#itsbeeble masterlist

Warnings: Uhhh public sex (car sex), slight age gap (Hyunjae is two years older than reader), oral (m and fem receiving), pet names, switch!Hyunjae, switch!reader, Haknyeon might be scarred for life, swearing, mentions of chemistry, they make out in a library, face-fucking kinda, threats, reader almost kicks the bucket, Hyunjae jumps out a window, Sangyeon is NOT happy, idrk there’s a lot happening MDNI!!!

A/N: Yeah this is uh... yeah

~

“This is so easy, how are you not understanding?” Hyunjae is hunched over beside you, scowling at the seemingly infinite number of red marks he’d made on your worksheet. You scoff at him.

“Sorry to burst your little bubble, Lee Jaehyun, but maybe you should consider the fact that Chemistry doesn’t come easy for everyone.” Maybe take that stick out of your ass and you’d see that.

Lee Jaehyun, or as most people like to call him, Hyunjae was a straight A student. He was nearly perfect in everything. Perfect grades, perfect voice, perfect face, perfect body. He was perfect when it came to the sports he played, he had the perfect family and home. The only horrid thing about him was his attitude. 

He was cruel. To you, at least. Maybe just to you, his best friend’s little sister. Maybe he just didn’t like you because you always seemed to be around, always trying to one-up him in everything related to school. Trying to be better than him at math, at english, at extracurriculars. You joined the debate team in high school just to spite him. And he’d be damned if he ever said he felt threatened by you. 

If you were being honest, you really didn’t hate him. You liked him, even though he clearly didn’t care for you. You looked up to him, similar to how you looked up to your brother, but Hyunjae was different. He wasn’t just your brother’s best friend. At some point you started going out of your way to try to impress him, even if it never ended well for you. You wanted to spend more time with him, get to know him more. 

“I would think that you’d be decent at this,” he sneers at you, “given how you seem to be so good at everything else.” You bite down on your tongue and turn back to the worksheet. The mistakes you’d made were so silly, so you understand why he’d be confused that you’re getting them wrong. Simple miscalculations when balancing equations, simple miscalculations for enthalpy. All of them were simple, and yet somehow you consistently got them wrong. “Your brother wouldn’t be making these mistakes. I thought you idolized him.” 

“I’m not Sangyeon,” you snap. “Plus, why would he be taking a chemistry class as an Econ major? He doesn’t need this shit.”

“Gen eds, doll.” Hyunjae smirks at you. “We all had to do them at some point.” 

Your tongue was starting to hurt from how hard you were biting on it to avoid yelling at him. You’d forgotten that Sangyeon and Hyunjae were already in their third year of college while you were barely starting your second. 

“Don’t call me doll,” you slide your chair forward and lower your head. “Give me another worksheet.” Hyunjae shakes his head. “Dude, give me a worksheet. Let me try again.”

“I’m not giving you another worksheet,” he says as he begins to pack up his things. “You clearly aren’t understanding anything I’m teaching you, so why should I keep helping?” You rise from your chair at the same time as he does, your eyes going wide. 

“There’s no way you’re giving up because I get mixed up sometimes.” He looks down at you, almost annoyed that you’re still talking to him. “Lee Jaehyun, you cannot be serious.”

“I’m dead serious, doll. I don’t know why your brother asked me to help you when it’s clear there’s nothing I can do for you.” He turns to walk away, and your hand latches onto his wrist, attempting (and failing) to pull him back. He’s taller than you and definitely a lot stronger. You barely even get him to wobble on his feet, and he hardly stops walking toward the exit of the library. Now, you’re just being dragged along with him. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” You jog to stand in front of him, walking backwards (in hindsight, you should’ve known that was a bad idea). “Like, I’ve never done anything wrong to you but you just fucking hate me for no reason. Why?” He’s looking down at you while he walks, jaw tense and eyes narrowed into a glare. 

“You’re stuck up and think you’re better than everyone.” 

“Yeah, but so do you!” You argue. 

“You’re more annoying about it though. Like everyone has to know that you think you’re better than them.” He spits out, and the two of you stop walking, standing outside of the library. The cold air of November bites into your skin, slipping through the gaps of your knit sweater. “You just have to brag about every achievement you get, about every goal you make in soccer, and every award you get from school. You think you’re just some fucking princess that everyone needs to bow down to.” 

“Again, you’re the same way!” You snap. You’re walking backwards again, hardly paying attention to where you’re going with how focused you are on Hyunjae. “You’re constantly shooting me down, when all I’ve ever done is look up to you! All I’ve ever done is try to impress you, but you just have to make me feel bad about myself huh?” 

Hyunjae’s eyes widen a fraction, his lips parting as he listens to you talk. He’s not walking any longer, but you are. You’re backing toward the stairs leading to the parking lot and he reaches forward to stop you.

“Doll,” he tries to get your attention but you’re on a tangent now.

“Maybe I went too far sometimes, but it’s only because you’re my brother’s best friend and I wanted you to notice me!” 

“Doll,” Hyunjae tries again and takes a step forward. You’re getting closer to the first step, just inches from backing off the edge. 

“But you’re right. Little old Lee Y/N can’t possibly be worth helping, she’s too dumb for you isn’t she? She isn’t enough for you to not—” 

“Y/N!” Hyunjae lurches forward when your foot slips from under you. For a moment you flail in the air, arms waving while you attempt to get your balance. Your brother’s best friend grabs one of your arms, yanking you toward him and pressing you tightly to his chest. Your body spun, and you found yourself pressed against the railing, your face squished against the tall man who had his arms wrapped fully around you.

You can feel your heart pounding, and you can feel his own, It’s rapid against your cheek, slamming against his ribs. He’s warm. His body is warm, and your hands tighten around his jacket. Call it desperation, but you know this is the only time Hyunjae would ever touch you and you wanted to make the most of it while it lasted.

“Are you dumb?” Hyunjae pulls you away from you, holding you an arms-length away while he scans you over. “Why the fuck would you walk backward near a staircase?” He looks angry, and you duck your head into your chest. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “I know it was stupid but I just—” 

“What if you had gotten hurt, doll?” He interrupts, his grip on your shoulders tightening. “What then, huh? I’d never be able to forgive myself.” 

“Didn’t realize you cared that much about me,” you try to joke. His frown only deepens, and you begin to shrink in on yourself. 

“Of course I care about you!” Your heart begins to pound again. “You’re my best friend’s little sister, why wouldn’t I care about you?” And then it sinks. You just got best-friend’s-little-sister-zoned. 

You wonder if he ignored everything you’d said before the fall. Maybe he did. Maybe it’s for the best that he did. Save yourself the rejection, move on with your life. Easy enough. 

“I dunno,” you shrug, “figured you hated me enough to let me fall.” Hyunjae scoffs and grabs you by the arm to start dragging you back to the car.

“Idiot.”

~

“So what you’re telling me,” Haknyeon sits across from you, his chemistry textbook open but going ignored as he listens to you talk about what happened with Hyunjae. Since the staircase…incident he hasn’t spoken to you, and you really needed to pass chemistry so you enlisted your friend to help. “He calls you doll, acts like he hates you, then you confess to him and fall down the stairs, he saves you in the most romantic way, then brother’s-best-friend-zones you?” 

“Yeah, pretty much,” You dig your pencil into your lip, listening to it click while you read through one of the practice problems that Haknyeon gave you. “And since then he hasn’t spoken to me.” 

“What a dick. You’re doing that one wrong, by the way.” He slides his chair across the library’s old carpet to sit next to you. “Finding the delta-H of a reaction is products minus reactants, not the other way around.” His shoulder is brushing against yours while he explains and writes down how to do the problem correctly. 

One of the doors to the library opens and you glance up, almost immediately locking eyes with Hyunjae. Your stomach sinks when he narrows his eyes at Haknyeon.

“Oh shit,” you mutter, dropping your gaze again.

“Please don’t tell me that Lee Hyunjae just walked into the library and currently looks like he wants my head on a spike.” Your friend is now frozen, speaking quietly out of the corner of his mouth.

“I will not confirm nor deny any of what you just said.”

“If that man kills me, I will kill you.” Haknyeon hisses, and you just smile at him. Hyunjae is sitting at a table nearby, and you feel that familiar sinking feeling in your chest when he looks at you again.

“He’s not gonna kill you. Laugh as if I said something funny.” You jab him in the side and he starts cackling loudly, gathering the attention of several other students around you. “Not that loud, genius!” He quiets his laughter, and you can see the flush rising on his cheeks. “God you’re dumb.”

“What am I supposed to do? The hottest man I’ve ever seen looks like he’ll snap me in half if I touch you! I’m terrified!” He grabs you by the shoulder, and you hear his chair scrape against the ground. “Oh god he’s gonna kill me and it’s your fault, you bitch.” 

“Y/N,” Hyunjae’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder, and he bends down to the opposite ear so you can hear him better. Your body goes rigid, and you feel his breath brushing against the side of your neck. “A word, please?” You turn your head, leaning back so you aren’t so close to him. He’s staring at you, a mix of emotions swimming in his eyes. 

“Uh,” you glance at your friend, but he’s already shoving his face back into his textbook. “Yeah, sure. Hak, I’ll be—”

“Yup, go ahead, have fun.” Your friend spits out and then Hyunjae is pulling you up and walking you toward a dark corner of the library.

“Is this where you kill me?” You joke, but he doesn’t laugh. He’s facing away from you, hands shoved into the pockets of a loose jacket. “Damn, killjoy much?”

“You sure move on fast, huh?” You reel back and he turns to face you completely, a small smile practically stapled to his lips. “With tutoring, I mean. You were able to replace me just fine.”

“Oh, uh,” you blink, “yeah I guess. Hak is a great…teacher? Jaehyun are you okay?” His jaw tenses before he responds again, taking a few steps toward you until he’s just inches from you, and you’re pressed against a bookshelf. 

“You know you’re the only person who calls me Jaehyun? Not even my own parents call me that.” His head is tilted, his eyes half-lidded while he looks at you. “Why is that?”

“I, um,” your brain is faltering, overwhelmed by him. The way he looms over you, the way his fingers dance across your waist, the way he’s looking at you like you’re his last meal. “I don’t— spite, maybe? Jae, you’re getting really…really close.”

“Does that bother you, doll?” He asks, he’s only a few inches away, and you’re getting the urge to lean up and press your lips against his. 

“N-nope. Not at all. In fact,” Your hands are wrapped around his jacket, holding him so he can’t step away from you, “this is great.” He smiles, and you don’t see joy in it. You see mischief and lust. 

“Really?” 

“Mhm.” One of his hands slides up to grip your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“And what if,” his voice is just a whisper, his breath fanning your cheek when he tilts your head to the side. “I did this?”

His lips are warm against your skin. Warm, and soft, and your breath is hitching in your throat andd you know he can feel it. Hyunjae kisses your neck right below your ear, his teeth just scraping against the tender skin and his lips sucking gently. Your eyes are fluttering, your body leaning closer to his. His hand releases your jaw, finding its way back to your waist while your own hands slide up to tangle in his hair. 

He slides his lips down, trailing them across your neck and sucking little pink marks into the skin. 

“Should—” you stumble over your sentence when Hyunjae pulls your shirt to the side, placing kisses to your collarbone. “Should we b-be doing this?” He hums, and the vibrations against your skin have you gasping.

“What do you mean, doll?” He pulls away, leaning back up to look you in the eye. His eyes are halflidded and dark, filled with the lust you had seen in his smile. Your jaw drops open a bit, your hands sliding back down to his shoulders when he leans toward you again. 

“I just— I mean— what would Sangyeon think?” Hyunjae rolls his eyes. “I’m seri—” He’s kissing you before you can finish that sentence. It’s a rough, searing kiss and the suddenness has you gasping. With your mouth now open, Hyunjae is able to slip his tongue into your mouth. It dances along your own, tracing every inch of the wet cavern of your mouth. Your lips are slightly chapped against his, and you wonder if he notices. You wonder if he cares, but the way he groans against your mouth tells you he doesn’t. That he cares only about the way your lips mold against his, the way your tongue dances against his own, and the way your body seems to fit perfectly to his. 

“Who—” his lips press against yours as he speaks, “cares— what— he— thinks?”

Hyunjae presses further against you, pressing you into the bookshelf, and you can feel the kiss becoming sloppy. You can feel the spit beginning to slide down your chin, but when you try to wipe it away your brother’s best friend pins your arm above your head. You squeak into his mouth, feeling him smile against you. 

He pulls back just slightly, catching your lower lip between his teeth and watching your eyes flutter, listening to the whine that escapes you. 

Hyunjae says something to you, something you don’t catch, and then he squeezes your hip.

“Sorry. What did you say?” He smiles, and this time you know he’s amused. There’s a little twinkle in his eye, and you find yourself smiling along with him.

“I said,” he drawls, “that we should get out of here.” 

“Oh…” you hum. “Yeah, no, yeah we should.” He tilts your head up again, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you okay, doll?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You reassure him, “Just…a little shocked, I guess?” 

“Shocked,” he echoes, tilting his head to the side. “Shocked about what, doll?” You shrug, your cheeks starting to burn from the way he stares at you. 

“You’re just…you’re a really good kisser.” You’re mumbling, but you know by the way his smile grows that he heard you.

“What was that?” He coos, turning his head so he can “hear you better”. You scoff. “I didn’t quite catch what you said. I’m a really good what?”

“I said you’re a dick,” you snap and push him away from you, your cheeks now blazing. He trails after you, practically giggling at the reaction he pulled out of you. Haknyeon is still at the table when you come into view and you see his eyes go wide when he sees you.

“What…happened to you?” You grab your jacket and bag, shaking your head. 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, Hak.” You feel Hyunjae’s hand on the small of your back, urging you along and you watch your best friend’s eyes bug out of his head. 

“He— you— are you two—”

“She said she’ll tell you tomorrow, Hak.” Hyunjae says sharply, now firmly pushing you along. “Let’s go, doll.” 

~

You’re in his car, straddling his waist in the backseat. Your lips are pressed against his in a rough kiss, much sloppier than in the library. It’s a mess of tongue and teeth and spit and his skin is so warm against yours. Your hands are underneath his shirt, but his are under your own shirt. You can feel goosebumps rising on your skin where his hands trace. Your waist, your stomach, your back, underneath your breasts. He’s so gentle with you. You, on the other hand, are rough. Your hands are digging into the skin of his abdomen, sliding across his abs and up to his chest. He hisses when your nails dig into him, undoubtedly leaving little crescents into his golden skin. 

You pull away only briefly, a string of spit connected between the two of you. He’s staring at you with awestruck eyes, staring at the marks he left on your skin, at the knots he made in your hair, at the stretched collar of your shirt from where he pulled on it. 

“What happened to what Sangyeon would think?” Hyunjae’s hand slip to cup your ass over your jeans. 

“I’m not the one that’s gonna have to tell him that his best friend fucked his little sister in the backseat of his car in the library parking lot.” You tug your shirt over your head, tossing it to the front seat. To be fair, Hyunjae moved the car into the darkest corner of the lot, but his windows weren’t tinted and if security came around to check what was up, you’d both be fucked (in more ways than one). “Besides, should you really be worrying about that right now?”

Hyunjae lowers his mouth to your chest, placing wet, sloppy kisses to the soft skin while you unhook your bra and let it slide off your arms. 

“You’re really gonna make me do it? All on my own?” He gazes up at you and you can only smile at him.

“If you want me to suck your dick, yeah. You will.” His grip on your waist tightens and his eyes go wide. You lift his head, connecting your lips again as you begin to roll your hips against his. He hisses out, letting his head fall back at the sudden pressure against his growing erection. You let your eyes drift closed, enjoying the friction, enjoying the pleasure each roll of your hips sends up your spine until you decide it isn’t enough. Until the quiet, gasping breaths that escape the boy under you aren’t enough. Until you need more.

You force yourself off of him, pushing yourself as far back as you can in the cramped backseat of his car, the little waves of pleasure dissipating as you undo the button of your pants and begin to tug them down. Hyunjae watches you, eyes hazy and chest heaving under his shirt. You pause in your motions and stare at him with a cocked eyebrow. 

“What?” He exhales heavily and you scoff, kicking his leg. He hisses, lifting his head and glaring at you.

“You really think I’m gonna be the only one undressing? Take your shit off, Lee Jaehyun.” He sits up, leaning toward you. Challenging you.

“Why would I do that, doll?” He coos. “I quite enjoy the little show you’re putting on for me.” You can hear the little tremor in his voice, can see his cock straining against his jeans. You love the act he puts on, the way he wants you to think he’s in charge, so you play along.

You widen your eyes, playing the role of a desperate little girl. He may be older, but you’re smarter. You’ve known him long enough to get an idea of what he likes, just based on what you’ve accidentally overheard from his conversations with your older brother. 

“Jae,” you practically purr, leaning forward and letting him see the way you’re squeezing your breasts together with your arms. He watches you lace your hands together, tenses when you place them on his knees and bring yourself forward until your mouth is right next to his ear. His breathing hitches when your breasts brush against his chest. “Can you please take your clothes off, baby?” You press a gentle kiss to his jaw. “I promise I’ll be good.” 

He doesn’t respond, but you can hear him shuffling, hear the zipper of his pants and feel him shoving the garment down his legs as fast as he can. His shirt follows after, and you lean back with a pretty little smile on your lips as you slowly pull your jeans down. Hyunjae watches you carefully, practically drooling as more and more of your skin is exposed to him. More for him to touch, to feel, to play with. 

When the last bit of your legs is exposed and your jeans are thrown to the side, he tugs you onto his lap again. You both hiss when his fully erect cock presses against your core, when the slick fabric of your underwear brushes against him and leaves a small damp spot on his boxers. Your hand rises to the back of his neck, nails scratching gently as you begin to roll your hips again. 

You aren’t slow this time, you aren’t gentle with him. You grind against him as if you’re already riding his cock. You roll your hips in gentle circles, pressing down hard with each drag of your hips. This is the pleasure you were searching for. This is soothing the ache that had been building and building since the night at the staircase. 

You listen to the pitiful whines that leave Hyunjae’s mouth, listen to the gasps, and the pleas. You feel the way he lifts his hips to meet yours, thrusting harder and harder with each moan of his name that leaves your mouth. 

“D-doll,” Hyunjae whimpers, “Y/N, please. ‘M s-so close, doll, please.” 

“Please what, baby?” You lower your head to his neck, sucking harsh purple marks into his skin and running your tongue over each one to sooth the burn you know is there. “Hmm? What do you need from your doll?”

“You pro-promised,” he pleaded, squeezing at your hips and trying desperately to get you to stop. You can feel his dick twitching underneath you, and your hips only move faster and harder against him. You can see the tears welling up in his eyes. 

“What did I promise, Jae?” You ask. “Tell me.”

“You prom— promised you’d— that you’d suck me off.” You kiss your teeth, slowing your hips. Your own body is screaming at you, begging you for the release you’d just ripped away from both of you. You, unlike Hyunjae, are good at hiding how desperate you really are to have him inside of you. He’s still thrusting into you, whining at the loss of pleasure. 

“I did, didn’t I?” You run the back of your hand down his cheek and watch him lean into your touch. “I can’t let my baby suffer now, hmm? Not after he asked so nicely.” 

Hyunjae watches in awe as you slide to the ground in front of him, tugging his boxers down with you. He watches as you brush your hand over his leaking cock, running your thumb over the slit and digging in. He whines loudly, jerking his hips into your touch. 

You pull your hand away just briefly to spit into your palm, using that and the pearly liquid leaking from his tip to help run your hand up and down on his length, squeezing gently when you get closer to his tip. 

When your lips finally wrap around him, a shudder runs down Hyunjae’s body, his back arching and his head falling back. There’s a brief moment between when you first put your mouth on him to when you begin to suck, one where you just watch the older boy twitch and shudder under your touch. 

You don’t linger too long, shifting and rising a bit on your knees so you can take more of him down your throat. Your hands grip at his thighs, squeezing tightly when he hits the back of your throat and you have to hold yourself back from gagging. You pull yourself back up, suckling at his tip before bringing yourself back down onto him, taking a bit more of him into your mouth. You repeat these actions until you’re able to take all of him into your mouth. 

From there, when you take him down your throat you moan around him, letting the vibrations hit him until his hips jerk up and he’s sent impossibly farther down your throat before pulling yourself back up and digging your tongue into his slit and drinking in the precum that leaks from his cock. He’s a whining, blubbering mess, begging you to go faster. To make him cum. To do anything except tease him, but you don’t listen. You take your time, occasionally pulling off his dick entirely just to watch him suffer. 

“‘M close again,” he chokes out, barely heard above the sloppy noises of you choking on his cock time and time again. His eyes, up until this point, have been squeezed shut. He’s afraid that if he looks at you, he’ll bust right then and there. “Fuck, doll, please.” 

He makes the fatal mistake of opening his eyes, making direct eye contact with you. His breath hitches in his throat again, his chest tightening. You look so messy, drool running down your chin and onto his balls. Your make up is running down your cheeks, your hands squeezing so tightly at his thighs. 

It just takes you sending him into the back of your throat one more time for him to regain control of himself, gripping your hair and sitting up a bit. Your eyes go wide when he thrusts into your mouth the first time. He hears you gag, but he’s just so close. He’s so close, and he can’t help how his hips move faster and faster, each brush of his tip against the back of your throat sending him spiraling just a bit more out of control.

“You thought I’d just let you take control?” he hisses, tugging your face towards his hips when you try to pull away. He can hear your muffled sobs, hear you gagging on him. “Let you run this show? Pretty girl, you have no idea what you just got yourself in—to—” He stutters his last word, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he empties his load into your throat. He hears you choke and pulls back, letting the last ropes of cum paint your cheeks and your chin while more spills out the side of your mouth. 

Hyunjae gasps for breath, watching you pull yourself back onto the seat with your back pressed against the door. He watches you run your fingers through the mess on the lower half of your face, bringing it to your lips. You whine at the taste of him, and he feels his cock twitching back to life already. 

Then he notices the lack of underwear on your body. Sometime between you taking control, and him forcing it back you stripped yourself of the last bit of clothing on your body. He turns toward you, wrapping a hand around each of your legs to spread you open. Your eyes are wide again, and you try to protest when he lowers himself to be face-to-face with your sopping wet cunt. 

“Such a pretty doll,” he murmurs, bringing a finger to your slit and collecting some of your juices. Your body twitches, trying to pull away from him but he just pulls you closer. “So cute, still trying to be in control of something.” 

He runs his tongue all the way up the length of your pussy, stopping to suck on your clit before bringing his tongue back down and repeating that again and again and again. You writhe underneath him, moaning loudly when he digs his tongue into you, practically fucking you with it before he’s slipping two fingers inside of you. You knew it would sting with just one of his fingers, but the burn of two fingers pushing inside of you and immediately beginning to pump in and out of you at a rapid pace has you crying out and curling away from him. He just holds you closer, his fingers scissoring in and out and his mouth sucking relentlessly and the knot inside of you is growing so tight, your body curling and your hands gripping his hair tightly. 

Then your body goes slack, your vision blurring and your ears ringing as you release all over the bottom half of his face. He doesn’t relent, doesn’t stop drinking up your release until you’re kicking your legs and shoving his body away from you. 

You both gasp for breath, trying to recover. Your body is tingling with your release and you can see Hyunjae leaning against the door opposite you, running his hand up and down his length while he watches you, waiting for his cock to become erect again so he can fuck you.

“So,” his voice is rough, “now that we’re somewhat even, I vote that we both tell Sangyeon that I fucked his little sister in the backseat of my car.” You roll your eyes.

“I just gave you the best suck of your life, and you think I’m gonna tell my big brother that his best friend fucked me? His best friend that’s two years older than me?”

“You’re 21,” Hyunjae frowns, “two years isn’t that bad. If you were 14 and I was 16, then it would be weird, but that’s not the case. We’re both legal adults in college.” His hand slows on his cock, but he keeps his fingers wrapped around the tip. You run your tongue over your lip.

“Jaehyun, I thought you hated me. What changed?” He shrugged.

“Simple. I never hated you. Sure for a while you were just my best friend’s annoying sister, but like…I dunno. I never really hated you, I just didn’t know how else to interact with you. What about you? I thought you hated being around me.”

“Yeah because I wanted to make out with you half the time you were around,” you roll your eyes and let your head rest against the steamed window. Hyunjae sputters out a laugh, throwing his head back and yelping when it slams against the glass. You gasp and jump forward, crawling over his lap to cradle his head.

“Shit, Jae, are you alright?” You run your fingers through his hair, feeling for where his hit his head. He lets his forehead rest against your collarbone, still laughing. “Why would you throw your head back like that?”

“You sure have a funny way of showing that you like me, you know that, doll?” His lips press gently into your skin and you flick the side of his head. He hisses under his breath and pinches your hip. 

“You worry me sometimes, Lee Jaehyun.” He hums and brings his hands to your hips. “You gonna fuck me now?” He kisses his teeth and pushes you off his lap until you’re on the leather seats again. 

“Hands and knees, doll,” he instructs and you grin.

“Ooh, doggy style. Didn’t think you liked that kind of thing.” You roll onto your hands and knees, lowering the front half of your torso until you’re able to lay your head on your hands and (sort of) gaze back at Hyunjae. You watch him pull a foil packet out of the center console and click your tongue. “Only use one if you want to. I’m clean and on birth control. As long as you’re clean and fine with it, you don’t have to.” You watch the man behind you shudder again.

“God, Sangyeon really is gonna fuckin’ kill me, doll.”

“Problem for tomorrow, really.” You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his tip pressing into your entrance. A quite whine escapes you at the stretch, and Hyunjae rubs your sides to sooth you while he continues to slowly press himself inside of you.

“Almost there, baby.” He assures you. “Just a bit over halfway.”

“Are you shitting me?” you whine. “Why the fuck are you so big?”

“Good genetics, doll.” You feel his hips against your ass and your body relaxes slightly. “Tell me when, okay?” 

“Just fucking go already,” you hiss, fighting through the stretch. “God, just fuck me Hyunjae, please.” Your hips roll back against his and he exhales shakily. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“It’s either me or my brother, pick one baby.” 

Your teeth dig into your lip when Hyunjae gives an experimental, shallow thrust into you. He pulls out a few more inches and thrusts into you again. When he pulls himself out all the way to the tip, he inhales sharply before plunging into you. Your body jerks forward at the force of it, a moan escaping you, and then he’s plowing into you at full force. 

Hyunjae drives his hips into you hard and fast, your body jerking forward so much that you have to grab onto the door to stop yourself from hitting it. The moans you let out become loud cries and screams of his name and you know that if there’s anyone left in the parking lot, they’ll know exactly what’s happening. You can only pray that they know better than to approach the window, pray that they can’t see the way you beg for Hyunjae to move faster, to go harder if that were possible. 

“Such a good, pretty girl for me,” Hyunjae tangles a hand in your hair, yanking you back into his chest. The new angle has his cock driving into that spongey spot inside of you time and time again. “So pretty like this, filled with me. But what would Sangyeon think, hm? What will he think of his pretty little sister getting fucked senseless by his best friend, someone he trusted to look after her while she studies?”

“F-fuck, Hyunjae, please!” You beg, clawing at his hands and his hips and the back of his neck. “Fuck, harder, baby, harder!’

“You want me to go harder baby?” Hyunjae coos, sliding one of his hands down to your clit. “Want your brother’s best friend to fuck you until you can’t breathe? Until you’re begging me to stop?”

“Yes,” you cry out, “please please please, Hyunjae!” He groans, loud and raspy in your ear and you can feel your abdomen starting to tighten okay. “Oh god, I’m so close baby please! So close, so close!” 

“I know baby,” he grunts, “fuck, you’re so fucking tight around me, doll.” 

His fingers are rubbing harsh circles around your sensitive clit, the callouses of his hands providing that delicious friction to drive you straight over the edge screaming his name and squeezing tightly around his cock like a vice until he can only grind his hips into you, and then he’s groaning and warm ropes of cum are filling you and spilling out around his cock. 

It takes the two of you a few minutes to recover before he’s pulling tissues and wipes out of his glove compartment and gently wiping away any traces of his release. When he gets to your face, he can only smile at the dazed look in your eyes.

“So, I take it I’m telling your brother?”

“You can bet your ass you are.” He hums and places a featherlight kiss to your lips. 

“You called me Hyunjae for the first time.” You hum.

“Don’t get used to it, Lee Jaehyun. It was heat of the moment.” He laughs, tugging his boxers and jeans back onto his body before helping you with your bra and underwear. 

“I meant it, you know.” He says when he’s got you situated in the front seat of the car. You look at him with tired eyes, enjoying the heat that comes with his car being on. Your seat is reclined so you can rest on your way home, and one of your hands is wrapped in Hyunjae’s. “When I told you that I never hated you. And if you’d let me, I want to take you out on a date after finals.” 

The thought brings a gentle smile onto your face.

“Only if Sangyeon doesn’t kill you first.”

~

It’s two days later when you force Hyunjae to tell him. The marks on your neck, and the scratches on Hyunjae’s haven’t faded in the slightest, and you know Sangyeon has been asking his best friend about them. 

You’d been sitting on your bed with your boyfriend when Sangyeon burst into the room, yelling at you about the dishes and stopping when he saw the two of you curled up on your comforter. You could see his mind trying to click everything into place, followed by your brother taking a few steps forward and Hyunjae sliding off your bed to get to your open window. 

“LEE JAEHYUN YOU’RE SO FUCKING DEAD!” Your brother screams out the open window while Hyunjae makes a run for his house, one hand thrown into the air. 

“WORTH IT!” You hear him yell, and you can’t muffle the laugh you let out before your brother turns on you with nothing but rage in those brown eyes of his. 

“Lee Y/N,” he hisses.

“In my defense, it was all him.” You back away from your brother, shuffling to the edge of your room.

“You’re dating my best friend?” 

“Maybe? Depends on how you react to either answer.”

“Oh, I’m gonna fucking kill you both.”

“Only if you can catch us!” You bolt out of your room, screaming when you hear him pounding after you. 

Listen to Should’ve Said No by Taylor Swift for full effect

It’s quiet in your apartment when he opens the door. He’s tired, and all he wants to do is curl up beside you after months of being away on tour, but there’s something weighing on his chest. Something lonelier than the apartment he comes home to. 

It’s dark, and it’s quiet, and it’s lonely, and he swallows the lump in his throat when he sees you at the kitchen counter with your back turned. There’s a faint light from your phone, but he can’t hear any videos playing. He notes how you’re curled in on yourself, one of your arms wrapped around your stomach and the other clutching your phone. 

“Y/N?” You visibly flinch when he speaks, and you lift your head. Your face is just barely illuminated by the light of emanating from the screen in front of you. “Baby, what are you doing up?” 

You shrug, fingers drumming on the counter as you debate what to say to your lover. He comes up behind you, and you can sense his hand rising to touch your shoulder. 

The sound of your phone slamming down on the marble stops him, and he can only freeze when you get off your chair and circle around to the other side of the kitchen, leaning with your back pressed against one of the drawers and your arms dangling limply by your side. 

There’s an social media post opened on your screen and a lump begins to grow in his throat. 

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL, AKA S.COUPS, OF SEVENTEEN SEEN WITH MYSTERIOUS WOMAN

There’s a video of him, clear as day, leaning down to this woman’s ear and whispering something. His hand is placed on her hip, rubbing circles with his thumb. He pulls back, just far enough to look her in the eye and he has to shut his eyes, knowing what comes next. 

“Baby, listen—”

“Don’t call me that,” you’re oddly calm when you speak, almost defeated. “You don’t get to call me that.” Seungcheol purses his lips, turning your phone off and lowering his gaze to the counter. 

“I’m sorry.” You can only look at him, the disbelief and anger and sadness in your eyes spearing him to his spot in your apartment.

“That’s it?” You whisper, but to him it’s almost like you screamed it right into his ear. “That’s all you have to say about that?”

“I…” he huffs out a breath, shifting his weight left and right. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N. I really don’t. You saw the post, you’ve probably already decided where you want to go from here—” He doesn’t even see you cross the room. He doesn’t hear your feet softly hitting the ground, he doesn’t hear the soft sobs leaving you. Seungcheol only feels the stinging of your hand against his cheek, the burning of the aftermath. 

“You don’t…” he admires that you take a moment to collect yourself before speaking again. “You don’t have a single explanation for what you did? Not even a weak ‘I didn’t know what I was doing’ or- or a ‘I was drunk and thought she was you?’” 

You’re pacing, tugging at the strands of your hair and plucking the split ends. You’re not looking at him, and he wishes he could take back everything he’s said tonight. 

“Would that help?” His voice is bitter.

“Did she approach you first?” You look at him suddenly, and it’s his turn to look at the ground. 

“What?”

“Did she approach you?” You repeated. “Or did you go to her? You always did like someone who made the first move.” Your voice trembles and Seungcheol feels the regret bubbling up, a boiling pot ready to spill over and burn at any given moment. “Was she even worth it? Was she worth ruining what we had?”

“I- no she wasn’t—”

“Then why did you do it, Choi Seungcheol?” You snap. “Why didn’t you just say no? Push her away, tell her you were taken— fuck, Seungcheol, why didn’t you just go home?”

You can’t help but wonder why none of the boys were there to stop him. You wonder where they were when he made the choice to shatter something good. To take everything he had and smash it on the floor, stomping on it and crushing it to dust. Did they know? Did they even care? Why did none of them tell you?

“Do you really think we would’ve lasted anyway?” Seungcheol glares hard at you, the exhaustion from his flight and the will to just end this and move on with or without you pushing to the front of his brain, words spilling from his lips before he could think to stop them. He watches you reel back, watches the fight disappearing from your eyes. It’s so dark in your apartment, so dark that he can hardly see but he can’t help be glad for the lack of light. He can’t bear to see the tears welling in your eyes right now. 

“What are you talking about, Seungcheol?” Your voice cracks. 

“Our relationship was failing either way,” he spits out. “I’m always gone, and when I’m home you have work. It was bound to happen to one of us at some point. And don’t tell me you haven’t at least thought about it, because you’d be a fucking liar.”

Silence, and then you’re taking a step back, pressing yourself against the cold metal of the refrigerator. Your heart is pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears. 

“Get out.” Seungcheol blinks at you. His hand wraps around the back of the chair next to him. 

“What?” 

“Get. The fuck. OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT OF MY FUCKING APARTMENT,” you’re shoving him toward the door, beating on his chest with your fists knowing that you aren’t doing any lasting damage so you grab one of the travel bags he’d set down and throw it at him. He stumbles back, dumfounded and clutching the bag you’d thrown at him. “I gave you EVERYTHING. I stuck with you knowing that NOBDY FUCKING ELSE WOULD HAVE BOTHERED and you just throw it the away for some bitch you met at a club?” He tries to hush you, warning that your neighbors would wake up but you couldn’t care less. He’s pressed against the door now, and he’s almost afraid of what you’ll do and what you’ll say even after he leaves. 

“You need to calm down,” his voice is trembling now. Not from fear. No, this is anguish. It has finally hit him that he’s losing you. That there is no coming back from this.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down, Choi Seungcheol.” You spit out. “I hope she was worth throwing six years down the fucking drain.” You rip your door open, shoving him and the rest of your bags out. “Happy fucking anniversary.”

Seungcheol feels his stomach drop, his heart falling with it when the door slams in his face and the lock clicks into place. He feels almost numb, confused, and almost…almost relieved that you didn’t decide to just kill him where he stood. 

His body slumps forward, his forward resting against your door while he gathers his thoughts.

You were right. You had given him everything, gave him your all through the entire relationship. You’d supported him and loved him and forgiven him for everything he’d done.

Except this. He’d done absolutely unforgivable. He couldn’t turn to anyone for this, knowing they’d never forgive him. The members themselves already won’t speak to them, and when they do it’s business only. He wonders which member would have told you if you hadn’t found out on your own.

Was she worth it? 

He truthfully doesn’t know the answer to that. He’d been so cruel to you rather than accepting that he was wrong. So, so very wrong for everything he’d said and done. 

He should’ve gone home, called it a night and told the members to either catch a ride with him or find their own way home. He should’ve pushed that woman away the moment she’d touched his arm. The moment she leaned up to ask him to dance with her. He should’ve said no the moment he saw her, but he didn’t. He’d betrayed you, betrayed your trust, betrayed everything the two of you built together and there was no getting it back. Not this time. 

It’s cold, and dark, and lonely while he walks down the hallway. It had been a long time since he’d felt this alone, since he’d truly given up. 

It’s cold, and dark, and lonely, and it’s all his fault when the rain pours down and doesn’t stop.

~

Warnings: mild smut, pet names, angst, name calling (in the not sexy way), mild bullying? Idk that’s it I think. Jeonghan’s kind of a bitch

listen to Lovin’ Me by FIFTY FIFTY for the full effect

It keeps happening

Let's meet again

At this hour

You feelin' me?

You did it again. 

You responded to his call. 

Despite the late hour, despite the exhaustion weighing on your bones, you responded to his call. Responded to Jeonghan, to the way he called you only when he wanted someone. Wanted someone to touch, to kiss, to fuck. Someone willing to be under him.

How could you not? When he treats you like he cares for your, makes you feel like you’re the only person he has his eyes on. Like you’re the only one he holds at night, calling you pretty names while he fucks you into oblivion. 

When he’s pounding into you, you can’t help but wish that you were the only one he would do this to. With his hand on the base of your neck, your legs wrapped around his slim waist. The pleasure is building up, a knot winding up so tightly in the pit of your stomach that you can’t help but whine his name into the open air, can’t help but claw at his back, holding his shoulders for dear life. 

One of your hands finds his hair, tangling in the black strands and pulling a pretty whine from his lips. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” his head falls into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and placing light kisses into your sweaty skin. “Do that again.” You do, your back arching into him and your walls fluttering around his cock when he thrusts into you even faster. 

You let your eyes flutter shut again, taking everything he gives you in this moment, knowing that when it’s over, you’ll have to leave again. Pretend that he never touched you, never fucked you, never convinced you that maybe…maybe you could be something more. 

~

He’s watching you, his eyes tracing your naked body as you lay beside him. Neither of you is saying anything, just letting the silence wash over you. Jeonghan wonders what you’re thinking. You’re quiet. Too quiet, your breaths making hardly any noise in the silence of his bedroom. 

It’s sudden when you get up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and gathering your scattered clothing items. Jeonghan checks the time on his phone. 3:07AM. He gnaws on his lip, his brows furrowing. 

“You should…” Stay. You should stay with me. Stay with me forever, love me the way I love you. “You should get going.” He watches your body stiffen, and a lump begins to form in his throat. “Don’t want anyone finding out, y’know?” 

“Yeah. I know.” You tug your shirt over your head, searching for the slippers you’d worn over. You refuse to look at him. You keep your eyes on the ground, but he can tell by the shaking in your hands that you’re upset. “Can’t have anyone thinking you care about me. What a scandal.” 

“Sweetheart,” Jeonghan sighs and sits up, leaning against the headboard of his bed. “You know that isn’t what I meant.” You look at him, finally, and shrug.

“Sure it isn’t. I was just joking.” He knows that’s not true. Knows that you’re more hurt than you’re letting on. 

“Come here,” he beckons you toward him, but you hesitate. “Sweetheart, come here.” You do, and he leans forward to grab your hand and pull you toward him until you’re sat on his lap, only separated by your thin shorts and his duvet. Jeonghan runs his hands up and down your sides, squeezing lightly at your hips. Your hands are resting on his chest, and you’re refusing to look at him again. 

His hand comes up to your chin, grabbing it between his thumb and pointer finger and forcing you to look at him. There’s a tiredness in your eyes, beyond the late hour and the…activities you’d participated in not thirty minutes prior. It scares him. 

“You know I care about you.” A kiss is pressed to your lips, featherlight but enough to have your eyes fluttering shut and waiting for more. So he gives you what you want. His kiss becomes heavier, but stays slow and patient. His tongue runs across your lip, and he waits for your lips to part before he pulls away, teasing you just a little. “I’m sorry if it seems like I don’t.”

He watches you nod and pulls you into him, your head now resting in the crook of his neck and his arms wrapped around your waist. He stays like that for a few moments, cherishing the time he gets to hold you, to pretend that you’re his and no one else can have you. 

~

The scorn-filled looks you receive from him the second you enter the lecture hall has your throat tightening and your eyes watering. You listen to the way his new fling flirts with him, mocks you, and throws herself all over him. He responds to the comments, though disinterested, with equal amounts of mockery. He makes a fool of you, and his friends just watch and listen with looks of utter confusion, as if they hadn’t seen him kissing you and holding you with absolute infatuation in his eyes. 

“Hey,” you flinch when Seungcheol takes a seat next to you. 

“Hi…?” You can feel a set of eyes burning into the side of your head and know Jeonghan is glaring at the two of you from across the room. 

“Are you and Jeonghan okay?” Your body stiffens, and Seungcheol frowns. Your professor enters the hall at that moment, and you expect the taller, muscular man to get up and head over to his friends.

But he doesn’t. 

He sits with you, waiting for you to respond to him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stare straight ahead, trying to listen to the older man at the front of the room talk, but it’s hard when Seungcheol is staring down at you. 

“Y/N,” he speaks quietly now. “Aren’t you two a…thing?” He’s even questioning himself, and you can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips, louder than expected. 

“You really think I would willingly be with him?” You’re upset. Seungcheol can tell, and you know it frustrates him just as much as it frustrates you. 

“You don’t have to lie to me.” Seuncheol nudges you with his elbow. “You don’t have to lie to any of us. Everyone already knows. It’s just the two of you that don’t want to admit it.”

“I don’t have anything to admit.” You lie. “We aren’t together. We aren’t dating. We aren’t a thing.” 

Seungcheol frowns, and even you know that you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. 

~

“Seungcheol,” you flinch when you hear Jeonghan’s voice approaching the two of you after class. He’s walking towards the two of you, his new girl draped under his arm. He’s glaring at the two of you, his gaze only hardening when you meet his eye. “What are you doing with this…thing.” He sneers at you, and your gaze drops to the ground. 

Thing. Jeonghan sees you as a thing. An object. He didn’t call you a freak, or a bitch, or a nerd. He called you a thing as if you weren’t even worthy enough to be considered a person. Like you were some second-rate object that’s been used and tossed aside over and over again. 

“Don’t call her that, Jeonghan.” Seungcheol snaps, stepping in front of you. “She isn’t a goddamn object. She’s a person, one you’re being a piece of shit to for no reason.”

“Oh please,” Jeonghan scoffs. “You really think I don’t have a reason?” He takes a step forward, and so does Seungcheol. He looks tiny compared to the other man, smaller in stature and build. But he stands his ground, confidence radiating from his body. The girl behind Jeonghan begins whining, tugging at his arm until the dark-haired man snaps at her and waves her away. She scoffs, glaring at him and then at you before stalking away. 

“I’m getting real sick of your shit, Jeonghan.” Seungcheol hisses. “And so is she.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Jeonghan’s eyes flick to you, an unknown emotion filling them before he’s looking back at his friend. “What kind of bullshit has she put you on now?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Han.” Seungcheol leans down to his friend, whispering something that you can’t hear, but you can see a bit of panic in Jeonghan’s eyes before it’s replaced by annoyance. “You understand me?”

“Loud and clear.” 

~

It was hours later when you hear from Jeonghan. Hours later when you get the weak apology text, and him telling you that he’d meet you in front of your dorm to bring you to the party that night. You almost text him back to tell him you wouldn’t be going. That you felt sick and he should just go and have fun with his friends. With the girl he’d been with. But you don’t. You can’t bring yourself to lie to him, even when he does it every day. 

Truthfully, you don’t understand him. Don’t understand why he feels the need to lie to you and to everyone around you. The burning feeling inside of you, the knowledge that you never come first in his life no matter what he tells you when you’re together. No matter how he tries to convince you that you were the one he wanted. That you were the one he cared about, not the girls you see him with every other week. 

“You’re thinking.” Jeonghan glances at you out of the corner of his eye, scanning your face and your body. He watches the way you tug your dress down, sliding the straps just a little further up your shoulder. You look over at him and shrug. 

“I’m not. Look at the road.” He scoffs, but listens to you nonetheless. 

“You make it sound like I don’t know you, sweetheart.” But you don’t. You want to scream. You want to tell him everything that’s been on your mind these past few weeks. But the look in his eye, the genuine concern…it stops you. You know, or you think you know, that he cares about you. That he wants you to be okay. 

“I said I’m fine, Hannie.” You can hear the pounding music down the road and start to unbuckle your seatbelt. “Stop the car.” 

“What?” You look at him, your eyebrows coming together.

“I need to get out, remember? Before anyone can see me?” Another scoff from him. “What are you scoffing at?”

“Why would I drop you off down the road? We can walk together.” 

“But why— you never want us to be seen together.” You can see him sink in on himself. He pulls the car over, and you stare up at the house. Maybe this is what he wants. He wants to lead you on, to show you to people as if he wants to be with you and then dump you on the ground again by the end of the night. 

You flinch when he opens your door, holding a hand out for you to take. You can see people lingering on the front lawn, watching you and talking to each other. You don’t know what they’re saying. Don’t want to know. His hand is warm in your own, and you find yourself easily slipping into the rhythm of being his again, just for a few hours. Just for the night, and then everything will go back to the way it should be. The way he wants it to be. 

“Let’s go, sweetheart.” Jeonghan’s smile is warm, but you don’t return it. You tug your skirt down your legs, your free hand shaking while you’re led up to the front door. 

He knocks, his eyes moving to your figure while he waits for the host to open up. 

The door swings open. You drop Jeonghan’s hand before the host notices, stepping away when the two men greet each other. You slip inside without either of them noticing, and disappear to a corner of the room where none of his friends would notice you. 

You begin to mingle. You begin to talk to people you know, talk to people you’ve never seen before. You begin to grow comfortable, but never fully. Not when you can feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you the whole night. Not when you can see him standing with his friends with a cold glare on his face. Anger, maybe. Never jealousy. Not from him. 

He attempted to approach you a few times, but you were quick to slip away from him. You were quick to avoid his attempts at talking to you, at insulting you or getting too close. You avoided him altogether, if possible. But it was getting harder. He was popping up out of nowhere, trying desperately to get you to stop for just a moment. 

~

“Sweetheart,” he approaches you again, when you’re leaving the bathroom. Your eyes go wide, and you try to squeeze by him again. He takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching before he shoves you back into the tiny room, locking the door behind him. 

“Jeonghan, what are you doing?” You hiss, trying to push past him again but he catches you by the arm and presses his lips harshly against your own. He kisses you hard, nearly knocking you over from the force of it and causing your arms to fly up, using his shoulders to stabilize your body. Everything inside of you, every thought and every beat of your heart, screams at you to shove him away from you. Everything about this sets off alarms in your brain, but you shut them down. You let him kiss you. You let him sweep you off your feet again, let him empty any thoughts you might have had of pushing him away.

When you pull away, your heart pounding and your breathing labored, he doesn’t let you go far. He doesn’t let you pull out of his grip and escape around him. Not yet. Not when he has so much to tell you. 

“Why are you doing this?” His eyes go wide at your question. At the tears that begin to pool in your eyes.

“What?”

“Why do you…Why do you do these things? You— you tell me that you hate me. You can’t even consider me a person in front of your friends or— or anyone at these fucking parties or at school. You pretend I mean nothing to you, treat me like this side piece that comes to you at every beck and call. And then— and then when we’re alone you act like you actually care about me. Why, Jeonghan?” 

The tears are spilling down your cheeks. He watches them fall. Watches them slip under your chin and down your neck and all he wants to do is wipe them away but he feels like he’s frozen in place.

“I don’t— I do care about you, sweetheart. You know I do!” He reaches for you, tries to take your other hand in his, but you pull away. 

“No, I don’t.” You shake your head, flinching when a knock sounds at the door. “I don’t know shit, Jeonghan.”

“What— what do I have to do to get you to believe me?” He begs, his voice trembling just like yours. He can’t lose you. Not like this. Not yet. “You— do you want me to— to yell it out for the world to hear? Do you want me to drop Eun-bi? What. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it for you.” He’s on his knees, and you stand about him with a look nearing heartbreak. 

“No, you won’t, Hannie.” Your voice cracks and you watch as the realization hits him. That you’ve hit your breaking point. “You won’t do any of that. You know why?”

“Why, sweetheart.”

“Because you don’t love me.” His heart shatters. He’s sure you can hear it cracking into millions of pieces. “Not in the way you think you do. Not in the way I want you to.”

“So…so what? This is it?” You take a deep breath, looking away from him. He’s on his feet again, reaching for you and forcing you to look at him. “You’re just gonna leave? Just like that? You’re not even going to give me a chance?”

“I’ve given you chances,” you snap, jerking out of his grip. “I’ve given you far more chances than I should have.”

“You don’t mean this.” He scoffs. 

“I do, Jeonghan.” You look him in the eye, far angrier than you had been moments ago. “I’m done trying. I’m done trying to get you to love me how I love you. I’m just…I’m so tired.” 

This time when you step away from him, he lets you leave. He lets you unlock the door and open it gently. He watches you hesitate, waiting for him to say something, anything. Wait for him to stop you.

He doesn’t. 

He watches you leave.

Oops! I'm losing again

Even if you take it slowly, I want you to reach me

Falling in

~

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not a ton though), mild flirting, Jeonghan is sad, reader is sad, everyone is sad, swearing, name calling (not the fun kind), a few mental breakdowns, the reader knows she was being manipulated and was somewhat okay with it (idk just read it), Joshua is flirty but like in a best friend kinda way, everyone knows Jeonghan and Y/N are simps, Jeonghan MEGA SIMP

Listen to If I by Seventeen for full effect

A/N: In honor of me reaching 300 followers, here is part 3 of Lovin me! I appreciate all of you for reading this and I hope you continue to enjoy my works <3

~

Our path, our promise to be together

Is already thwarted and you walk away, turning your back on me

It reduces to a single dot

It's too empty outside of that interest

I hope that that dot

Comes back before me and turns into you

“Have I ever told you how stupid you are?” 

Jeonghan is sitting on the couch, head down and his hands tangled in the strands of his hair. Across from him stands Joshua, Seungcheol, Soonyoung, and Seokmin. He barely makes the effort to listen to his friends as they yell at him. He wants to say that he doesn’t know where those words came from. He wants to say he didn’t mean to say any of that, that he was just mad and didn’t know what else to do. 

But that’s a lie. 

He knew exactly what he was saying. Though the reason he said it is something that can’t be found, he’d wanted to tell you that since the night of the party. 

“Are you even listening to us?” Soonyoung’s gaze is hard. There’s nothing but anger in his eyes, and Jeonghan feels the guilt beginning to seep into his bones again. “What the fuck were you even thinking?”

“Soonyoung,” Joshua, ever the voice of reason, cuts in. “Leave him be.”

“Shua—” A glare from the older man and Soonyoung shuts his mouth, leaving the room shortly after. 

“Seok, make sure Soonyoung stays out.” The other man doesn’t really say anything, just shoots Jeonghan a murderous look before stalking out of the room. 

There’s a certain tension building between the three remaining men. Jeonghan keeps his head down, avoiding the judging glare the Seungcheol obviously has glued on and the disgust that Joshua tries to force down and replace with pity. The two, having known Y/N a little more than everyone else, were rightfully angered. 

“Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?” 

Jeonghan finally lifts his head, his cheeks red from anger and embarrassment. He wants to scream and yell and throw things and hit the men in front of him. He wants to run out the door, find you, and fix things. He wants to do so much, but all he can do is bite back a sob. 

He’d never been a particularly emotional man. He’d never been one for crying, thinking that there was no point in being upset over something from the past. His family had always been stoic people, keeping their emotions to themselves and never letting the public see them come apart. Jeonghan had grown up the same way. Jeonghan had thought that he’d stay that way.

Then he met you.

Emotional. Broken. Crying over dogs that die in movies. He’d been disgusted by how open you were with your thoughts. Disgusted that you showed your struggles to the world and didn’t care if you embarrassed yourself.

~

The first time Jeonghan officially met you was in the spring of your sophomore year. He was a semester ahead of you and had convinced himself that he was far superior to every other student at this university. He’d seen you in passing, in some classes the semesters prior, and had bumped into you in the halls once or twice. Never had you spoken. Never had either of you thought the other was important. 

He approached you for the first time while you were studying for your Organic Chem final. You’d been crying quietly at the time, muffling your sobs with the sleeve of your sweater. It worked, mostly. But apparently, Jeonghan, from across the library, believed that you were far too loud and far too pathetic for his liking. 

“You’re weak.” He stares down at you, standing at the head of your table in the library while you try to stop your tears. You look up at him, tears not slowing and a confused pout on your face. His lip curls, anger washing over him in tidal waves. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re weak,” he repeats. “Pathetic, really, that you’re crying over something so trivial.”

“Why do you care what I’m crying about?” You ask.

“Oh, I couldn’t give less of a shit about you,” he smiles, but it’s condescending. He doesn’t care what you feel after this, he just wants his opinion of you known so you can stay out of his way. “I care that you’re annoying as shit and bothering me while I try to get stuff done without listening to your pathetic blubbering.” 

You’re shocked, he can tell, but that just means that his words will sink in and hopefully you can shut up. 

Unfortunately, he underestimated you. And, unfortunately, he failed to see the iced coffee beside your textbooks until it was soaking into his hair and the crisp white button-down he’d made the fatal mistake of wearing that day. 

“Who…” he seethes, “the fuck do you think you are?” 

“Who do you think you are?” You snap back. “I didn’t fucking do anything to you, so why do you think you have the right to come over here and insult me? You don’t even know me you egotistical rich prick.” He would never have admitted it to you, but he’d admired how you stood up to him. How you didn’t bend to his will just because of who he was, what his reputation was. He’d admired that you didn’t even recognize him, although, at the same time, it bothered him to no end. Jeonghan wanted you to know him. He wanted to break that strong will of yours, no matter what it took. 

Especially now that you’d dumped coffee over his head and forever stained his favorite shirt.

~

It was months later— September of your junior year, to be exact— that he allowed himself to let his guard down for the first time. At least, for the first time in front of you, of all people. Jeonghan, frankly, couldn’t help the disgust overwhelming every other emotion when you’d approached him outside his frat’s party. He’d tucked himself away, out of the view of all partygoers, hidden by the branches of an old oak tree. His heart beat rapidly, slamming against his ribs time and time again until he thought the bones were going to break. 

A crunch in the leaves behind him and he flinches, tearing his head out of his hands to wipe the tears from his eyes. 

He catches sight of you, and you him. 

You’re wearing a skirt much too short and a shirt far too tight to be considered comfortable. You walked in heels far too tall for your feet to stay stable in, and he watches you wobble over to him. He can’t find it in him to scoff or laugh or mock you. He lets you sit beside him, playing with your thumbs and not saying anything. 

You listen to him cry, but you don’t make fun of him as his family would. You don’t comfort him. He’s grateful to you. He’d never admit it, but he was grateful that you just sat there quietly. 

He lets his head slip down and rest on your shoulder, and he feels you tense up. Jeonghan half expects you to shove him off, with how he’d treated you. 

You don’t. 

The next day, you went back to normal. He knew it hurt you when he started openly berating you again, mocking the way you dress and the way you talk. He saw the tears pricking in your eyes and scoffs. How dare you think that things would be different. How naive could one possibly be?

After your class together, though, he’d made excuses to his friends so he could catch up to you. They didn’t question him. They never did. 

“Hey,” he called out to you. The halls were near empty. Most people were either studying or in class, so nobody would see him approaching you. 

You turn to him, your eyes narrowed. 

“Yes?” Your answer is simple, your voice quiet but clearly annoyed. He frowns. 

“I just— I hope you know that last night changed nothing about how I feel about you.” You raise an eyebrow, and he goes to speak again, but you interrupt him. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” He runs his tongue over his lip and shrugs. 

“Because you’re easy.”

~

“I told her she was easy.” Jeonghan looks between Joshua and Seungcheol with this…distraught look on his face. “I told her that she was an easy target. Like she was someone that was meant to be used.” Joshua mumbles some curses under his breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping away momentarily. 

“When did you say that?” Seungcheol asks quietly. Jeonghan can practically feel the rage building inside the older man, can feel it bubbling up inside him and waiting to boil over. 

“During…while I was talking to her. I told her just a little bit ago and— and I told her that a few months ago. Back when we first started this whole thing.” More tears are beginning to well up. He can feel them starting to roll down his cheeks but his body is shaking so badly he can’t move. “She knew from the start that I hadn’t given a shit about her. Why did she— why would she agree to that arrangement if she’d known I was just using her?”

“Because she cared about you, Jeonghan.” Joshua snaps. “Because even though she knew you hated her, she also knew that you felt you had no one who could help save you from yourself. She saw that you were just killing yourself slowly, from the inside out, and she wanted to help you no matter what it cost her.”

~

“Y/N?” A tap on your shoulder and you flinch, jolted out of the trance your econ textbook had you in. Joshua stands to your right, two coffees in hand and his backpack over one shoulder. You smile at him and he sets the drinks down, away from any of your papers. “I figured you’d need something to keep you going.” A pretty smile, one that would have anyone’s heart fluttering. 

Yours wasn’t excluded from that.

“I appreciate that, Joshua.” His bag drops to the floor, and he watches you for a few moments. He watches you spin the cup he’d set closer to you, tracing your nail across the lid while you highlight any information that stood out to you within the pages. There’s no discomfort between you two. There’s no elephant in the room. You know why he’s there, but you also know he’s not there for Jeonghan. He’s there for you. 

“Are you…Are you doing okay?” Your eyes flick up to his again and you shrug.

“Good as I can be. You heard what he said. I know you did.” He nods slowly. 

“Yeah…” You smile sadly.

“I should’ve known it, really.” Joshua’s head jerks back slightly, his eyes narrowing at you to try and figure out what you mean. “That he didn’t really care about me.” 

“That’s not true, Y/N.” Joshua shakes his head and you shrug again.

“Sure it is. I mean…I don’t doubt that I was a form of comfort for him and that he grew attached, but at the end of the day I didn’t do much more than that. I was different. I was something that he wasn’t used to, and he liked that. Maybe that thought somehow convinced him he was in love with me but that’s…I don’t believe he did. Because if he loved me, why was he saying those things to my face? Why was he…why was he so cruel?” 

Your eyes are beginning to sting with the presence of tears, and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe them away. Joshua watches you sadly and curiously. You want to laugh. Only a year ago, you’d been in a similar position with Jeonghan. Him crying under that stupid oak tree with you watching him and not saying anything. 

“I don’t know, Y/N…I truly…” Joshua inhales and sinks back into his chair. “I wish I could give you some kind of explanation for the things he did. He’s…he’s always been a bit rough around the edges. He’s only started opening up to us because of you. Because you taught him that it’s okay to feel things like that.”

“I didn’t teach him shit.”

“That’s not true, baby.” He shuts his mouth when the name slips out, and he waits for you to correct him. When you don’t, he continues. “You taught him what it felt like to love someone, whether it was romantic or a form of obsession. You taught him that it was okay to cry. That it was okay to want things, to need things.”

“I’m not going to forgive him, Joshua.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” He leans forward. “I’m asking you to see from his perspective why he said those things. I know that it’s no excuse. I know he should’ve just ignored you from the start if he knew he was gonna speak so horribly to you. But he didn’t, and that led to both of you getting hurt. I want you to just…Just try to understand a bit more about him, okay?”

You dig the nail of your thumb into the side of your index finger, ignoring the sting it sends through your nerves. 

“I just wanted to help him.” 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

“Why did he…Why did I let this happen?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. He just…he isn’t the easiest person in the world to get along with.” You try to laugh but it comes out in a quiet sob. You raise your hand to your mouth, biting into your skin to keep yourself quiet, and Joshua moves to the chair next to you. You let him pull you into his arms, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and the other running up and down your back. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is why Jeonghan is so cruel. He never had anyone to truly comfort him. He never had someone to smother his doubts and worries, to give him a hug when he was struggling. You can’t help but wonder what he’d be like if he’d received that love. Would he have been kinder? Would he have loved you the way he repeatedly claimed to?

You don’t know. And, now, you don’t really want to.

~

“What did she say?” Jeonghan is pacing the span of his bedroom, biting the nail of his thumb until there’s practically nothing left to bite. Joshua sits in the middle of the older man’s bed, legs crossed and body leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Was she mad? Did she ask to see me? Did she yell?” A hundred questions are running through Jeonghan’s mind, and Joshua attempts to keep up with the ones that manage to slip out of his lips. 

“She wasn’t…mad, per se?” He’s questioning himself before he even begins. “She was more, like, sad. I think. She was sad and confused. Just like you! Man, you guys are perfect for each other!” He attempts a joke, but Jeonghan just scowls. 

“You’re not funny, Hong Jisoo.”

“I know.”

“What else did she say?”

“She…She was really set on the fact that you chose her, of all people, to use. But she also knew from the start why. She wanted to help you, at first. To help you break out of the shell you’d created around yourself. And then she let it go too far and, well, here we are.”

“So she doesn’t forgive me?” Jeonghan leans against his dresser and tips his head back with a sigh. Joshua watches him carefully, gnawing on his lip in thought. 

“Not yet, at least. I think you just… I think you need to put in the effort to fix things. I don’t think apologies are really gonna do anything anymore. Especially not with what happened last time you tried to fix things.” 

“You’re still not funny.” Jeonghan hisses. Joshua scoffs and sits up straight. 

“I wasn’t kidding. Han, you’re on a losing streak in terms of apologies. Every time you even try, you make things worse for yourself and for her. I want to help you, but if you keep fucking up then I can’t! I won’t sacrifice my friendship with her because you decided to be a fucking moron!”

Joshua’s voice echoes around the small bedroom, and Joshua throws his body back onto the mattress. He knows he shouldn’t have gotten himself involved in the situation. Knows he should’ve stayed away from you in the first place, no matter how drawn to you he was. But Jeonghan is his best friend. How can he leave his best friend to suffer like this while he prances around, flaunting the fact that he’s able to stay in Y/N’s life and Jeonghan isn’t?

That’s cruel. And no matter what Joshua thinks of his best friend at this moment, he won’t lower himself down to Jeonghan’s level. Not now, not ever. 

“So what’s the plan?” Jeonghan is laying by Joshua’s head, his legs dangling off the edge of the mattress.

“Plan?” Joshua echoes, his head turning to look at the older man as best he can. 

“You know, the plan to help me fix things?” Jeonghan frowns. “You do…have a plan…right?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Yeah, I have a plan.”

~

You walk into your lecture hall the next day, and there’s a muffin and coffee in front of your seat. Just plain black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. Nothing special, except for the bright blue sticky note attached to the paper cup. Your first thought is that someone put it by the wrong spot, that it was for someone else that sits near you. 

You lift the note a little, trying to find any clues as to who this could be for. A name for the recipient, a name from the sender. Anything. Fortunately, you find both. Scrawled in messy handwriting is a note for you. 

It’s hard to ESPRESSO my feelings for you, sweetheart,

But MUFFIN compares to you <3

Enjoy the coffee and the muffin, 

I know you have a lot of classes today

I love you.

~ JH

Your second thought of the day is to tear up the note and throw away everything he left on your desk. Anger and confusion are beginning to boil inside you, but you know you can’t let it show. Not when he walks in just moments later with Joshua and Seungcheol in tow. There’s no girl hanging off his arm this time. In fact, for the first time since he’s met you, he gives a smile and a small wave. You don’t return the actions, just sink into your seat and lower your head so you can’t possibly lock eyes with him so you won’t have to interact with him.

Unfortunately, he sits down right next to you. He doesn’t say anything to you. He just sits down and, shockingly, takes out his laptop and a notebook. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye but look toward the front of the room just moments later. He’s comfortable. You can tell just by the way he smiles and lets himself lean back in his chair. He’s usually sitting up straight, eyes straight forward and lips drawn into a line. 

People are staring at the two of you. People are whispering, just quiet enough that you can’t hear what they’re saying about you. You imagine that they’re shocked, confused, and a bit upset that he chose you instead of them. If only they knew the extent of your relationship.

You wish that you could push him out of his chair, tell him to fuck off, and leave you again like you’d told him to only a few days prior.

But you can’t. Embarrassing the so-called king of the school would set you aside as a social outcast and you would likely be relentlessly harassed for the rest of your time here. 

Instead, you choose to push the coffee and muffin aside and focus on the lecture up front. You ignore Jeonghan, and how he examines your side profile. You ignore how your stomach growls and the smell of the muffin is growing stronger. You won’t cave. Not to him. Not anymore.

~

The next day, you walk into your first class and there’s another muffin. Joshua sits in the chair beside yours, and he looks up with a smile when you approach. 

“Someone left you something,” his tone is teasing while he pushes the wrapped treat toward you. You scoff and push it back toward him. 

“I don’t want it. You have it.”

“He doesn’t want me to have it,” Joshua argues and shows you the little sticky note on the coffee. “Look! Words cannot ESPRESSO how much you BEAN to me, sweetheart! Isn’t that so cute?” 

“I hate you. And I hate him too.” You drop your bag and slump forward. Joshua pushes both items in front of you one last time and rubs your back comfortingly. “I don’t understand him, Shua.”

“Eh, does anyone?” A sigh from you, but no response. You’re too tired to deal with this. Too tired to care that Joshua would absolutely be telling Jeonghan about his success. You take a sip of the coffee and your eyebrow arches. You’d never told Jeonghan your coffee order. 

“How the fuck did he figure out what my favorite coffee order was?” You shoot an accusing glance at Joshua who just rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t tell him anything. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he paid as much attention to you as you did him?” 

“No.” You say flatly. “He didn’t pay attention to me. He hated me, remember?” Joshua grimaces and you turn to the front of the room. 

~

The week continues like that. Jeonghan would leave a coffee, a stupid note, and a muffin at your seat during your first class. If he shared that class with you, he sat right next to you. He tried to make conversation once, his voice and hands shaking while he did so. He was so nervous to just say hi, and you were cold in the way you shot him down. He didn’t waver, however. He kept that quiet, relaxed confidence up. You were almost impressed by how persistent he was. 

Almost.

Friday night rolled around, and you were already on your way to the Sigma Tau frat to meet up with Joshua. You knew there would be a lot of people there, knew that too many students would be getting drunk off their asses before finals started on Monday. You weren’t going to exclude yourself. You knew you had friends to keep an eye on you, but you also knew how to pace yourself so you could have a good time but not put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.

Still, though. You were nervous. Nervous that Jeonghan would corner you again and try to talk to you. You were nervous that you, in your soon-to-be inebriated state, would find it in you to forgive him for everything. 

“Just stick with me,” Joshua reassured you. “I won’t let him bother you too much.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t let him bother me at all,” you mutter and pull your skirt down slightly. It was still early May, so the lingering low temperatures of winter bit at your skin and raised goosebumps in its path. 

“You know that I won’t be able to stop him from approaching you. He always finds a way, baby.” Joshua squeezes your waist while he guides you through the crowd. Already you can spot Jeonghan laughing with the other guys in the frat, drinking some ungodly concoction Vernon had thrown into his cup. Seungcheol spotted you first and subtly shifted his body to hide you from his friend’s view. “I can, however, keep him from finding you for a little bit.”

“You’re an angel, Shua.” You smile at him, and he throws a wink at you. “So what has our friend Vernon mixed up tonight?” You lean over the counter and Joshua stands across from you. People bump into you while they stumble by, some people already plastered and others trying to help their plastered friends. 

“Something with a lot of tequila,” he points at one of the three large containers, “something with a lot of rum,” he points at the middle container, “and something with a little bit of every alcoholic drink we have. Just for fun.” He points at the final container

“Ooh, sounds…” you make a face and Joshua laughs.

“I know. But, you know Vernon, he likes experimenting.”

“I’ll bet.” You drum your fingers on the counter and point at the first container. “I’ll start with some of that…mixture?”

“Coming right up, babe.” Joshua grabs a cup for you and starts to get your drink. Both of you make a face at the odd red liquid that pours out, but your friend is quick to sniff it and take a small sip. “Good news, it isn’t poison!” 

You take the cup from his hand and take a sip as well. A grimace passes over your face almost immediately. 

“Bad news,” you clear your throat, “I’m gonna be absolutely off the walls from whatever he put in this.”

“Wasn’t that your goal?” Joshua comes up beside you again, that pretty smile of his making you blush a little bit. Under the purple lights, however, it’s nearly impossible to see the redness in your cheeks. 

“You ask a lot of questions, Shua.” 

“And yet you still give me the answers I want.” You shove his arm, but he hardly budges from his spot. He just smiles and laughs at your annoyed pout, and guides you back to where the crowd is growing thicker. Jeonghan sees you now, you know he does. His eyes are practically locked on you, his mouth practically hanging open. You see Seungcheol mouthing an apology from across the room, and you nod to acknowledge it. 

You figured he’d find you at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. You thought you would at least be tipsy. You hoped you would have been drunk. 

But no.

You’re stone-cold sober, and he’s staring at you with this longing look in his eyes. You look away first, and Joshua frowns. 

“He found you?”

“Yeah.”

“Surprised he didn’t immediately come over here and start kissing your feet and begging you for forgiveness.” You both watch a girl approach Jeonghan, and Joshua gasps loudly when he pushes the girl away. You can tell Jeonghan said something harsh to her, just based on the way she quickly runs back in the direction she came from to hide in her group of friends. 

“Jesus, that was cold,” you remark. Joshua hums. 

“I told you, he isn’t interested in anyone else but you.”

“Not this again, Shua.” You groan and let your head fall back. 

“I’m just saying—”

“Just stop! It isn’t…I won’t do this again!” Joshua stands his ground this time, staring down at you with stern eyes and crossed arms.

“I’m not saying that you need to forgive him immediately and start fucking him again.” You scowl.

“Then what do you want me to do, Shua?”

“I want you to just…start over? I guess? Just start over with him. Reintroduce yourselves, and forget your whole history together. Start as friends, or fucking date, or whatever works for you. Just…just don’t do this shit where you guys— and not just you, because this wasn’t your fault. I don’t want you to think I’m blaming you because I’m not— just don’t force us all to choose between you and him, because that would end up hurting more people than necessary. I don’t care if you talk and decide to be anything to each other, just don’t let this go any farther.”

~

The lights have become blinding, the music deafening. A headache is beginning to form, creating an ache behind your eyes. You lost sight of Joshua hours ago, although you don’t doubt he’s with the other boys in the frat. Odds are, he’s gotten himself drunk and forgotten all about his promise to not leave you alone. You don’t mind though, you’ve grown comfortable in your little corner of the room, out of sight and away from the eyes of the other partygoers. Your plans of getting drunk are long forgotten, now thinking too hard about what Joshua told you.

“Have you seen Jeonghan?” Mingyu stands in front of you, a drink in his hand and his teeth gnawing on his lip. 

“No, not since earlier. Why?” You look up at Mingyu, your lips twisted into a puzzled frown.

“He’s been missing for, like, an hour. Nobody’s seen him apparently. Figured I’d ask you since you’d been staring at him for three hours.” You scoff at the comment and cross your arms. 

“I wasn’t staring at him.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Mingyu nods as if he believes you, but you know good and well that he doesn’t, and he doesn’t really care either. “Anyway, last we heard is that he was drunk off his ass and trying to talk to you, I think. I dunno. Something about a mental breakdown?” 

Your throat began to close, but you forced yourself to speak again.

“I have no idea where he is, Mingyu, and I don’t plan on searching for him.” That’s a lie. You both know it just based on the way your eyes flick toward the back door and your teeth gnaw on the corner of your lip. A small, almost pitying smile crosses the tall frat boy’s lips. 

“Well, if you see him, tell him that we’re waiting for him to play pong.”

“Will do.” He tries to slip through the crowd, but his bulky frame bumps into several different guests, which causes him to spew out a variety of different apologies until he makes it to the dirty plastic table that had been set up on the other side of the room. 

You know you shouldn’t find him. Every instinct in you is screaming for you to just stay where you are, find Joshua, or just leave the house. But a small piece of you, something so minuscule you almost don’t feel it, is asking you to please find him. Make sure he’s okay. Don’t let him suffer on his own again as if you hadn’t been suffering on your own for months. Years, even. 

You stare down at the drink in your cup, the ice in it now melted to create a watered-down tequila mixture. You know you won’t drink it. Know that it won’t do anything to provide you with the courage you need to do this. 

~

The music is muffled now that you’re outside, but your ears are ringing from the sudden change in noise level. You’re shocked to see no one out here. Usually, there’s a bit of a crowd trying to escape the noise and have a quiet conversation. You’d think that more would be out here just to enjoy the weather after a brutally cold winter. 

But there’s no one. 

Probably ideal for the conversation you’re about to have.

You inhale quietly, staring at the oak tree that’s barely twenty feet from where you stand. The branches have begun to grow leaves, shielding anyone who might be under it. Shielding Jeonghan, who you know is tucked behind the trunk and isolating himself. That’s what the two of you would always do if you wanted to get away from the noise. One of you would sneak out of the house, out of the view of the guests, and tuck yourselves behind the tree. The other would join a few minutes after. It didn’t matter which of you wanted to leave, somehow both of you ended up under the tree at the end of every party, waiting for everyone to go home or go to bed.

“Jeonghan?” Your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, but it’s enough to get his attention. You see his head lean to the side, almost laying completely on his shoulder. His dark strands of hair fall to one side of his head, a shine catching on them from the lights of the house. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Getting away from the party.” His voice isn’t slurred, which is a good sign. He’s probably had a few drinks but nothing to keep him from talking to you. “Too loud in there these days. They’re gonna go deaf.”

“They’ll be fine. Are you okay?” You don’t sit beside him. You don’t make any moves to be anywhere but five feet in front of him, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. You wait for the discomfort of the situation to set in, but it doesn’t. 

Not yet, anyway.

“Peachy.” You can see a cup of something next to him, pressed between two large tree roots. “You?” He doesn’t look at you. Not in the eyes, anyway. He’s scanning your body from head to toe, likely trying to figure out if you’re actually with him. 

“Let’s get you back inside. The boys want to play pong and they need you in there.” You avoid the simple question. When you look at him again, he looks…sad. Broken, really. You stick your hand out for him to take, and he looks at it with furrowed eyebrows.

You stay like that for a few moments. He sits against the trunk of the tree, staring at your outstretched hand thoughtfully. You stand a few feet away from him, your arm beginning to ache and the air beginning to bite at your skin. 

“Remember the first thing I said to you?” He finally asks. You drop your hand and sigh. 

“You called me pathetic.”

“I called you weak.” he corrects. “There’s a difference.”

“Not a big one.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Do you know why I said that?” Your heart is beginning to ache. You know he’s going to tell you all the reasons he hated you as if you weren’t aware of them already. “Because I was jealous of you.” 

“You were jealous?” Your nose scrunches and you move closer to him, out of pure curiosity. He watches you take a seat next to him, flinches when your arms brush together. “Why?”

“Because you were everything I wasn’t.” 

“Right, because you weren’t free to feel things.” Your neck cracks when you turn to look at him. Jeonghan laughs and nods.

“I guess so, if you wanna make me sound like a robot.”

“You might as well be.”

“Don’t be rude.”

“I think I’ve earned this.” He goes quiet, and you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. If you took it a step further than you should have, and now he’s going to hate you and your whole friend group will be forced to pick sides, just like Joshua said would happen. 

“You think too much,” he’s looking at you now and when you lock eyes, he doesn’t look away. 

“Maybe.”

“I always kinda liked that about you. The way you think about everything. But sometimes you think too much, and you get lost down this rabbit hole that no one can pull you out of.”

“I mean if you put it like that…”

“Don’t go thinking on me now,” he nudges you and you smile. “Don’t wanna have a conversation with a brick wall.”

“Oh ha ha,” you pick at the skin around your thumbnail and lean your head against the bark of the tree. “Isn’t it weird how…even with everything that happened, you’re still the person I’m most comfortable with?” 

“What about Joshua?” Jeonghan sounds bitter, but you know he isn’t. He knows you would never like Joshua, at least not how you like him. 

“Nah, he doesn’t get me like you do.”

“Careful now, you almost sound like you love me.” still. You almost sound like you love me still. You know that’s what he wants to say, with the way he cuts himself off like he was punched in the gut. The way his eyes water just slightly, and when the light hits them just right it looks like they’re shining brighter than the stars above the two of you. 

“Oh, wouldn’t that be a scandal?” Your voice is soft now, and neither of you laughs this time. There’s a sad cloud floating above you two, waiting to pour down rain and drench the two of you. 

“I really am sorry, sweetheart.” Your heart swells when he says that. Your throat closes up once more and you have to take a moment before you speak. “I didn’t mean anything that I said to you that day.”

“You did, though.” He opens his mouth to argue but you place your hand on his knee to stop him. “You did mean it, you just…didn’t exactly intend to say it. Yes, it hurt to hear it out loud for the first time. Yes, I hate you for saying it and confirming what I already knew. But…it isn’t necessarily your fault. I mean, it is, but also it isn’t. You can’t help that you were raised like that. You can’t help that you resented me for being able to feel what you wanted to. You didn’t…you didn’t receive the same love as I did when I was growing up, and that isn’t your fault. What is your fault is how…you didn’t tell me anything. I had to find out from people around us why you hated me so much. I had to find out from Joshua that…that you did love me, you just didn’t know how to show it or prove it.”

“I know, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry.” A tear slips from his eye and you smile when you wipe it away. Your hand lingers, and he presses his cheek into your palm. You feel him exhale a warm breath of air and his eyes shut. 

“I know you are. And I want to forgive you, Hannie, I do. It’s just…it’s going to take some time.”

“I know,” he place his hand over yours and squeezes lightly. “I know it will.” 

A comfortable silence washes over you, and you feel a cold breeze wash over your skin. Your body trembles from the cold and Jeonghan frowns at you.

“Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

“To be fair, I thought I’d be inside the whole time and it gets very warm in there.” Jeonghan scoffs and starts to remove his jacket, despite your quiet protests. 

“You need to start bringing a sweatshirt or something to keep you warm. You know we come out here a lot, so why didn’t you think of this?” He scolds you, forcing you to slip your arms into his jacket while he does. It’s a few sizes too big for you and the sleeves go fast past your hands, but you don’t mind. It’s warm, and comforting, and honestly you might not return it to him. 

“I’m sorry.” You lean your head on his shoulder, and he stiffens for a moment. “I’m sorry for not understanding.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Your lack of understanding is my fault, and mine alone. I didn’t…I just didn’t trust you enough, which I see was a mistake.” His hand rises to touch the back of your head, his fingers rubbing where your hair has been tied and relieving the ache that had begun to form. You feel him starting to relax against you, his shoulders sinking and his legs slipping down to lay flat across the grass. You hear a door open behind you, and a few laughs. On instinct, you start to pull away, but Jeonghan’s grip tightens, keeping you secured to him. 

You expect him to make a comment. You almost want him to. 

Instead he looks toward the sky, partially blocked by the low-hanging branches and smiles.

“The stars are pretty tonight, aren’t they?” You lift your head to look at him. He keeps his eyes facing forward, but the hand he has in your hair slips down to your shoulder and he draws you into him.

You smile before you respond.

“Yeah, I guess they are.”

If we can walk this path together again

I want to hold your hands and give you warmth

If I hold your cheeks with warmed hands

Will you smile again for me?

~

Warnings: Angst, Jeonghan is an actual bitch, mentions of a panic attack, mentions of sex (like a bunch), swearing, I think mentions of alcohol at one point but I could be lying, Jeonghan also gets slapped

Listen to Hate That... by Key and Taeyeon for full effect

And I hate that I hate that

You’re happy without me

And I pray and I pray

I want you to be painful as much as I do baby

I can feel the breakup falling apart alone

You wonder, deep down, if you’d overreacted. If you should’ve just kept your mouth shut so that you still had him, even if it wasn’t the way you wanted. You can’t help but gnaw on your lip, your footsteps quiet against the tile floor of your university. There’s this burning feeling in your chest, this burning anxiety that just keeps building and building. Will it bubble over? Will you break down, further embarrass yourself, and make him hate you more?

Your nail digs into the side of your thumb, subduing the thoughts for a few moments and allowing you to take a deep breath. Everything feels uncomfortable. Your clothes feel too itchy against your skin, your jeans rubbing the wrong way, your bag too heavy on one shoulder and too light on the other. You’re hyperaware of everything that could possibly be wrong with how you look and a lump is beginning to form in your throat.

You should’ve just left it as is.

He was happy to just have you at night, so why weren’t you?

You ruined everything. You always do.

The thoughts are beginning to overwhelm you, and you can hear footsteps approaching from the opposite direction. You can hear laughter, and bright conversation despite the early hour. Your vision is swimming, heat building behind your eyes as tears begin to well up. 

Are you okay?

You can’t tell if the voice is in your head or not until a hand comes to wrap around your arm, pulling you to the side of the hallway. 

“Y/N,” Joshua is in front of you. One of Jeonghan’s friends, one that stood by and watched as the man who claimed to love you in secret belittled and berated you every day. “Are you okay?”

You can’t breathe, and you think he can tell when he rubs circles into your arms with his thumbs, trying to keep your attention and ground you. 

“Look at me,” his hand brushes the underside of your chin, turning your glossy eyes to his. “Do you want to leave?” Your breathing starts to grow shallow, and he’s pulling you away from the lecture hall. 

You see him then. You see Jeonghan, watching you and glaring at you. He just stands there, another girl on his arm vying for his attention like you had for so long. You watch him turn away from you, his lip curling momentarily before he’s kissing the girl. The pulse behind your ribcage begins to stutter and your hand grabs onto Joshua’s, squeezing tightly while the man led you out of the building and into the courtyard where a cool breeze begins to wash over your skin.

You knew you were right. You knew that he would never love you, not like you loved him. You hated it. Hated that he could be happy without you, while you were here suffering from the consequences of letting him win. You were never together, you know that, but this hurts worse than any breakup. That after everything he told you, everything he convinced you was true, you still meant absolutely nothing to him. 

~

Anguish. 

That’s what Jeonghan feels when he watches you walk away with his best friend. Anguish at the knowledge that he’s officially lost you. That you’ll never crawl back to him the way he always goes crawling to you. 

He knows you’d never believe him if he told you that he loved you. Not now. Not after his failure at the party. Jeonghan remembers how heartbroken and tired you’d looked when he couldn’t find the words to tell you that he loved you. Remembers the tears that you tried so hard to fight back when he tried to stop you from leaving. 

Vaguely, Jeonghan can think of all the times he’d known you questioned your relationship with him. He thinks of the night he almost asked you to stay, but instead told you to leave. 

Oh, what a fool he’d been to think you’d hold out for him forever. When he treated you as something less than human and flaunted his flings right in front of you. What a fool he’d been to think that you would just…let everything he’d done to you go without a second thought. 

But now, as he watches Joshua run his hand up and down your back, hugging you into his chest, he can’t help the burning rage that fills him. He knows he has no right to be upset, especially not now that he solidified your belief that you meant absolutely nothing to him. 

“Hannie,” Ha-Seung whines, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. He barely spares a glance at her, but he sees her flinch at the sharp look in his eye. “What’s wrong, Hannie?”

“Don’t call me that.” Jeonghan’s voice is filled with a different kind of venom. One that causes his new fling to step back and lower her gaze to the ground. He knew it wasn’t her fault. Knew that she had no idea what he was feeling and why he was feeling it. No one did. No one would ever believe that he would love you. That someone with status and power would fall in love, obsess, adore, and yearn for someone who has nothing. No money, no true status in the world or in school. 

Now he was confused. You really were just…nothing. You were no one. You weren’t popular, you didn’t have many friends, and you kept to yourself. So why was he so drawn to you? Why did he claim to hate you? Why was he so focused on you when he could have and does have, anyone he can possibly think of? 

“It’s simple,” Soonyoung takes a large bite of the rice on his plate after he speaks, and his next words come out muffled. “You wan’ so’one t’ balansh you ou’.” He swallows, ignoring the disgusted looks he receives from his friends. “You want someone stable. You want someone loyal. You crave someone who can love you unconditionally, and ignore that, yes, you have status and yes, you have power. She’s that person.”

“It also helps that she’s smart and funny and very pretty.” Seokmin chimes in, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

After the party, it had become blatantly obvious that Jeonghan was upset. He only got more upset when he tried to explain to Seungcheol and Mingyu, and both told him that they already knew. That they always knew, and that it was only a matter of time before she left. He discovered soon after that all of his friends knew.

Not that he was the definition of discreet, with how loud the two of you were and the marks left on his neck, matching yours whenever they saw you (read: him) arguing. 

“So…what do I do then?” He leans forward, resting his chin on his hands, which have been resting on the table. “It’s not like I can just go up to her in front of the whole student body and just…proclaim my love for her.” 

“Jeonghan, you’re one of my best friends and I love you.” Soonyoung sighs. “But you basically just admitted that you’re still embarrassed by her.” 

“I’m not!” The older man cries. “I’m not embarrassed by her! I love her so much it physically pains me to admit it. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and it scares me.”

“So if she came up to you right now and asked you again if you loved her, what would you say?” Seokmin presses. “Right here, in front of two hundred people in this cafeteria.” 

Jeonghan hesitates. Truthfully, he doesn’t know. He isn’t embarrassed by you. He could never be embarrassed of you. But to have people know that he’s been fucking you and loving you in private while verbally assaulting you in public, what would happen? What would they think of him? They’d think he’s a monster. 

And they’d be right. 

“I’d…I’d tell her I love her, I think.”

“You think?” Soonyoung echoes in disbelief. “You can’t think you love Y/N, Jeonghan. You have to know you love her before professing your love and acting all jealous because Joshua helped her and you can’t even go near her without calling her a thing.” A callout to what he’d said to her just three days prior. He flinches when he recalls the look on your face, the tears in your eyes, and the way Seungcheol immediately stood up for you. 

“Here’s what you’re gonna do,” Soonyoung leans forward, a glint in his eye that has Jeonghan leaning back. “And you’re gonna follow this plan, okay?”

~

You almost regret going to the Sigma Tau frat to study with Seungcheol. You had so many memories here, good and bad, and you swear you might cry when you look up at the house and see the window that you and Jeonghan would climb out of to sit on the roof together. You’re quick to turn your gaze back to the wooden door in front of you, your fist poised to knock. You freeze, panic beginning to settle in. What if no one is home? What if Jeonghan is home? What if he tries to talk to you? What if he starts to yell at you? That panic begins to build when you knock on the door and Jeonghan is the person to answer it, albeit a bit disoriented. His hair is a mess, his eyes half-lidded, and his sweatpants slipping down his hips a bit. It’s quiet for a moment while you both register what’s happening. While he registers that you’re right in front of him and he’s right in front of you. 

“Y/N-ie!” Chan shoves past Jeonghan, embracing you in one of the tightest hugs you’ve ever gotten. “I missed you!” You blink, unsure of what to do. Sure, you’d seen the other boys in passing but you’d never actually met them. 

“I, uhm,” Chan leans toward your ear, and you can feel his breath fanning your neck.

“Just go along with it. Please just play along.”

“I- I missed you too, Channie.” You awkwardly embrace him in a hug and you watch Jeonghan’s eyes narrow. Jealousy? Anger? You’re not sure what you’re seeing in his eyes, but your heart aches a bit. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good!” The younger boy grabs your hand, shoving past Jeonghan to let you into the house, and drags you toward the kitchen. “Let me go get Seungcheol.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I can go find—”

“No,” Chan says sharply, his eyes practically begging you to just stay where you are. “Just stay here!” 

“Oh…kay?” You watch him run off, and find yourself rubbing a nonexistent stain off the table. It’s silent now, and you faintly hear a door slam and hushed voices. You let your bag slip off your shoulders and hit the ground with a dull thud. 

“How’d you meet Chan?” You jump when Jeonghan comes up behind you, moving to stand next to you at the table. He puts space between you, even though the last thing you really want is to be far from him. You can try to hide it, but you can’t help but love him. Can’t help but want to be how you were only a week ago.

“Oh…just between classes, I guess.” He hums, and you eye him carefully. 

“You and Seungcheol have gotten close.”

“We just study together.” Another hum, and this time silence. It’s becoming awkward, and the air has become thick. You wonder why he hasn’t left yet, or why he hasn’t started on his usual tangent about how you’re nothing to him. Since, clearly, he couldn’t possibly love you. No. You’d been a fool to believe that someone like him could love someone like you. 

“Y/N,” Jeonghan takes a breath, and you hear his feet shifting around. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” You turn to him, your eyes narrowed. 

“You don’t have to be sorry for not loving me, Jeonghan. It really isn’t that big of a deal.” You try to sound genuine, but you know that you sound bitter. You feel bitter, and you likely look bitter as well. 

“That’s not— sweetheart that’s not what—” he cuts himself off, his eyes squeezing shut. “That’s not the only thing I’m sorry about, but we’ll get to that later. Just…I wanted to say that I’m sorry. For everything. For how I treated you in the past, and how I continue to treat you.”

“It’s fine.” He scoffs.

“You’re lying. No one is fine with being treated like they’re worth nothing. No one should ever put up with that, and the fact that you put up with it for so long is just…” his voice trails off and he digs the dull nail of his thumb into the old wooden table. You can see, now that you’re looking at him, how tired he looks. There are bags under his eyes. His skin is pale, his hair is hardly taken care of when usually he puts utmost effort into making himself look presentable. Like a prince. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 

Your heart is pounding, your body frozen in place while he searches your eyes for something. For anything. Acceptance, forgiveness, hatred, anger. You can’t feel anything, though. It’s like you just became empty the moment he spoke to you, like you can’t register anything anymore. 

He stays there in front of you, seemingly not caring that his words have broken you. He waits, though it’s just a fraction of the time you’ve spent waiting for him and he knows it. 

“Why now?” Jeonghan tilts his head and you repeat yourself. “Why now? After all this time, after you told me that you didn’t care about me the way I care—”

“I didn’t say that!” He snaps.

“You didn’t have to!” You yell back, tears burning behind your eyes again. The house is quiet. Too quiet, and you just want to leave. 

Jeonghan looks away from you.

“You didn’t…” your breathing is shaky, “you didn’t have to, Jeonghan. The way you acted was enough.”

“Sweetheart,”

“Don’t call me that.” He purses his lips and exhales through his nose. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I just… I haven’t felt like this before.” 

“Like what?” You look at him again, and he’s getting closer to you. He keeps a good distance between the two of you, but he’s inching his way closer and waiting for you to tell him to stop. 

You don’t.

“In love.” He smiles sadly. “I’m in love with you, whether you believe it or not. I’ve loved you for a long time now, I think.” 

“You’re lying.” Your voice starts to break. You don’t know if you believe him. You don’t know if you want to believe him. After all, he can lie so easily to everyone else. What’s to stop him from lying to you?

“I’m not.”

“You are.” He’s right in front of you now, his breath fanning your face as he tries to get you to meet his gaze. 

“Why would I lie to you, sweetheart?”

“Because that’s what you do.” Your brain is screaming at you to stop, but you won’t. Not anymore. “You lie to people, Jeonghan. You lied about us, you lied about caring about me. You made me feel worthless, Jeonghan, and now you have the audacity to tell me that you love me?”

“I told you, Y/N.” He snaps. “I told you that I’m sorry. What more could you possibly expect from me?”

“I want you to be honest for once!” You cry. “I want you to tell me the truth!” 

“FINE.” He yells. “You want honesty? Fine. I targeted you because you were easy. Because you were desperate. Because I knew that no one else wanted you and that you could give me what I wanted because you weren’t obsessed with me. You just wanted someone who could pretend that they gave a damn about you. I hated that you were allowed to show your misery, that you allowed yourself to show how weak you were. I loathed that I couldn’t do that because I had so many people watching me all the fucking time. So I went for you. And I drove all my frustrations into fucking you, into pretending that I cared about you just so I could break you down and make me feel better. But then something changed. I felt…I felt different, one day. One day I just…I didn’t want you to go. I wanted you to stay with me and love me and just…be with me.” 

He took a deep breath. 

“I wanted to be the person that you could be happy with. I wanted to be the one that made you happy, that had you laughing to yourself even when I’m not with you.”

~

Jeonghan doesn’t expect the stinging of your hand hitting his cheek. He doesn’t expect to see you lifting your bag off the ground, tears running down your cheeks, and violently sobbing. 

“Fuck. You. Yoon Jeonghan.” Your voice comes out in a whisper at first, and he swallows hard. “Fuck you.”

“Sweetheart, wait—” You cut him off and fear spikes through him. He’s officially going to lose you. He’s going to lose you for good this time and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. 

“I loved you.” 

“I know, sweetheart, and I love you too—”

“No, you don’t.” You spit. “You love that you had someone who you knew would do anything to just be loved by someone. You don’t love me. You don’t love anyone. You only care about yourself and your status. I doubt you even care about your friends.”

“Y/N, please.” He feels his face warming. He feels his own tears beginning to well up behind his eyes. “Please, don’t leave. Just let me— let me fix this.” You’re backing away from him, and he’s following you. He’s trying to get you to stop, but you won’t and he knows he can’t stop you this time. 

“You can’t fix this one, Yoon Jeonghan.” You sniff, wiping your nose a bit. “Don’t— don’t talk to me again. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t fucking talk to me. I fucking hate you.”

And I hate that I hate

That you’re happy without me

And I pray and I pray

I want you to regret more than I do

If you loved me

I just hate that you’re happy

~

Your story began in a convenience store, over a bag of sour candy. It was a Sunday night, the day before your finals began during freshman year of college. You’d shared a class together, Calculus, but never shared a word amongst each other. That night you in the convenience store had sparked…something. Something that even you weren’t quite sure about. 

You’d been in your pajamas, just sweatpants and a sweatshirt with your hair tied back so you looked somewhat presentable to the public roaming the streets at the stroke of midnight. The straw for your half empty iced Americano rested against your lower lip, your eyes focused on the candies in front of you. He came up beside you, dressed in a tight black shirt and loose cargo pants, saying nothing to let you know he was there until he reached for a pack of sour gummy worms. His deep, gravelly voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“I say go for these,” he says, flicking the package before grabbing it off the shelf. “They taste good, not too sour and not too sweet.” You turned your exhausted gaze to the tall man with fiery hair and headphones half covering his ears. There was a small smile on his lips, one that offered little comfort to you. 

“What if I didn’t want something sour?” Mingi just shrugs and begins to walk away.

“Up to you, really. I just figured I’d give you my opinion.” You follow him to the register, the same bag of sour candies in your hands. He glances down at you, his smile growing just slightly as the tired young cashier rings him out, and he waits for you while the cashier rings out your candy.

“Why are you up, anyway,” your fingers rip open that small blue bag easily while you two walk back to the dorm buildings. 

“Studying, mostly.”

“Song Mingi?” You say in mock shock. “Studying? I never thought I’d see the day!” The taller boy laughs loudly, and you can’t help but laugh with him. It was true, though. In your class he always had his head down and the professor learned to just leave him alone during everything except exams, where he’d somehow excel. She didn’t need to know that you’d been leaving him a copy of your notes on his desk at the beginning of the next class all semester. In fact, he doesn’t need to know that either.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the girl who leaves me all of her very well organized notes stressing over a final that should be a breeze for her.” He counters, leaning down to you and nudging your shoulder. Your cheeks flush, and you turn your gaze away from him. 

“You knew?”

“You do know that I was never actually asleep, right?”

“Coulda fooled me, Mingi.”

“I do appreciate it, though.” You look at him again, and he’s still looking down at you. His arm brushes against yours, but neither feel the urge to drift back away from each other. “I need to repay you, somehow.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You shake your head, and he hums. 

~

You probably should’ve known it then. Should’ve known that getting mixed up with Mingi might not have been the best idea you’ve ever had. But fuck, if the way he fucked you didn’t feel like heaven on Earth.

The first time he fucked you, he had your back pinned against his chest, one of his feet planted firmly on his mattress, his hips pounding into you from behind. His hands pinched and tugged at your erect nipples, his face tucked into your neck as he sucked dark marks into your skin. Broken moans fell from your lips, your vision swimming with pleasure that built itself up and up, seeming to never stop. Your warm walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him tightly every time he pulled his hips back only to thrust back into you harder and faster than he had been.

Your hair stuck to your skin, your hands flailing and reaching for something, anything to hold onto to ground yourself. One of your hands fell to his hair, gripping it tightly and forcing a low groan from his throat. He pulls away from your neck, lips finding your own and you can taste the hint of sour gummies on his tongue when you suck it into your mouth. You let him lick into your mouth, practically shoving his tongue down your throat with how furiously he kissed you, but you didn’t mind. 

You probably enjoyed it a bit too much, his cock abusing that spongey spot inside of you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, one of his hands slipping down to play with your clit. The stimulation is enough to send you over the edge, spasming around him and crying out against his lips. His orgasm arrives soon after your own, thick ropes of warm cum spilling against your walls and spilling out of you while he continues to fuck you until the overstimulation becomes too much for you. 

~

It becomes a regular thing for you both, fucking each other whenever you get the chance. You both have become…something that you can’t quite name. Not quite exclusive, but not fucking anyone other than each other throughout the next few years. It confuses you, to say the least, the fact that you’re both beginning your senior year in college and still don’t have a label. 

Although now, as you sit with your body splayed across his lap and a bag of sour candies being shared between you two at a party neither of you could care less about and your fingers tangled in his bark hair, you can’t find yourself caring. Not when the kisses he places against your throat have your body thrumming with arousal. He doesn’t care that your friends are right in front of you, doesn’t care that Hongjoong keeps trying to get him to keep his hands to himself. All he sees, feels, hears, smells, and tastes is you. All he cares about is you, and the way you’re running your hand up and down his toned arm. 

“You two,” Wooyoung slurs with a plastic cup in his hand. “Are kinda gross.” He squints at you, pouting when he notices that neither of you are really paying attention to him. Your peer over at him, an eyebrow raised as he stumbles to the couch and sits next to San. You feel your eyes starting to flutter when Mingi sucks at a spot underneath your ear, your grip on his arm tightening a bit. You feel him smile against your skin. 

“Mingi,” Seonghwa’s voice is sharp. His eyes are narrowed as he looks at you both. Anger. Is that what the emotion is? The emotion in his eyes, his fists tightening at his sides. Yunho sits next to him, more uncomfortable than angry. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Your…lover? Friend? Partner? Whatever he is. He sighs against you, reluctantly pulling himself away from your skin and sliding you off of his lap to follow Seonghwa and Yunho further into the house. 

~

That should’ve been your first warning for the night. 

The second should’ve been Hongjoong’s pitying look toward you every few moments while you talk with Jongho about one of the classes you share, the excitement for your final year in college. 

Your third and final warning, the one you listened to.

“I’m glad Mingi won the bet.” 

All eyes turn to Wooyoung, the drunken man completely unbothered by his sudden declaration. There’s a mixture of emotions now. Confusion on your behalf, panic on everyone else’s. 

“What?” Hongjoong tries to shush the younger boy, but he’s persistent.

“The bet!” He chirps. “You know, if Mingi got you to sleep with him, then he’d get $100 from each of us? Didn’t he tell you?” 

It’s like the whole room goes silent. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You feel the horror and the realization setting in as you figure out what exactly Wooyoung just told you. What your friends had been hiding for so long. Though, could you really call them your friends now? Now that they’ve told you the truth? 

Your eyes search the house for Mingi, and you find him already looking at you. You can’t read the emotions in his eyes, but you can see him gnawing at his lip and his eyebrows furrowing while Seonghwa yells at him about something. It makes sense now. Why he didn’t want to put a label on you two.

In hind sight, you should’ve seen it. Although, how could you have? He always seemed like a nice guy. Always helped you if you were struggling with something, always brought you those stupid fucking sour gummies. You were completely blinded by the idea of someone showing you true affection for once that you couldn’t see the pity behind his friends’ eyes. 

~

“Y/N.” 

You don’t turn around when he calls your name. His voice cracks and trembles when he speaks. You can’t help but scoff, but you put on a brave face before you turn around. You plaster a smile onto your lips, your wipe the tears away from your eyes and pray that you can hold yourself together long enough to talk to him and get out of there, to take your car and run far, far away.

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step toward you, but the step you take back makes his stumble and freeze in his place. His hands are shaking, a far cry from the confidence he always seems to radiate. 

“It’s okay,” you force the words out, digging the nail of your thumb into your palm to keep the tears back. “I’m not mad.” You see him clench his jaw, see him start to stretch his hand out to you.

“You should be.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” The tears are starting to well up again and you take a deep breath, turning your gaze away from him. “At least you got a good fuck out of all this, you know?” The laugh you let out turns into a sob, and you put a hand over your mouth to muffle it, to try and calm your breathing enough to continue speaking. Mingi takes another step forward, and then another, grabbing onto your hand before you can get too far from him. 

“That’s not— that isn’t why I did this!” You stare at him in disbelief. 

“So why then? Why did you make the bet in the first place?” There’s no answer from him, and you bite down on your tongue. You pull your hand out of his grip, and he lets you walk away.

There’s a sour feeling boiling in your gut, and as soon as your car door shuts, you allow it to spill over. The sobs free themselves, and you let the tears run down your cheeks. 

A breakdown. One you’ll have to handle on your own this time. No one to bring over snacks and drinks while you watch stupid movies and cuddle on your couch. No friends to fall back on when you need help. Nothing. 

You’re back at the beginning again.

Monday rolls around too fast, the rest of your weekend spent holed away in your dorm room. Your roommate, Ryujin, did her best to comfort you, to keep people out. To keep them out. You had let your phone die the night of the party, ignoring the hundreds of texts and calls you’d received that same night. When you’d finally plugged it in Sunday morning, you made it a point to block each of their numbers. All eight of them.

You don’t go to your first class, the one you share with Jongho. You don’t go to the one after that, the one you share with Mingi, San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang. Nor do you go to the one you share with Seonghwa, Yunho, and Hongjoong. You stay in your dorm room, curled up under your blankets with the curtains shut and the lights off. You let the silence be your comfort for the time being, at least until Ryujin comes back with your dinner. 

There’s a knock at your door. One, two, three slow knocks. You know it isn’t Ryujin. She has a key and she would just come in without warning. That leaves only a handful of people, none of which you want to see.

“Y/N,” Wooyoung’s voice is quiet and muffled, much unlike his usual tone. You’re almost surprised he was the first to try to speak to you. “Can you open the door?” You pull your blanket further over your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m— we’re sorry. We’re really sorry. Just…just please talk to us? Talk to me at least?” Your heart begins to pound, a lump forming in your throat. He sounds…sad. He’s been sad, of course, but he’s never sounded sad. Always trying to make other people laugh before receiving comfort. But now…there’s nothing for the two of you to laugh about. He could laugh at you, of course. You’ve been the victim of their sick joke for three years now, and you had no idea.

“Y/N, I just…I want you to know that he never intended to hurt you like this. I know that…I know that it doesn’t seem like it, and I know it doesn’t make sense, but he really cares about you. He always has. This was never a game to him. You were never a game to him.” 

You wonder if he’s lying to you. Wonder if he’s just trying to win back your trust, try to get you to open the door only to laugh right in your face and make a joke out of you once more. 

There’s silence now, and you assume he left, giving up on you. You feel the tears on your cheeks now, feel them sliding across your cheek, to your nose and onto your pillow. You bring your sleeve-covered hand to your mouth and bite down, muffling your sobs as best you can. 

You knew it would hurt more after the fact. 

You just didn’t know it would hit you like a tidal wave.

~

“Hey,” Ryujin shoves your shoulder, jolting you from sleep. The smell of fried chicken wafts through the air, reaching your nose and forcing you to peek your eyes open. She’s frowning down at you, a plastic bag of takeout in her hand. “You hungry?”

“A little.” She hums and goes to sit on her bed, unlacing her sneakers and kicking them onto the floor. You push yourself into a seated position, rubbing the sleep and the dried tears from your eyes. The lights are on now, creating a harsh glare that makes you squint. 

“You think you’ll drop his shit off tomorrow?” Ryujin is looking at you now, her hands resting on the mattress beside her. “Like his sweatshirts, the trinkets, shit like that?” You shrug. “You’ll have to at some point.”

“I know.” 

“Want me to go with you?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Okay.” She passes you a box and a fork. “Eat up, think on it. If we don’t do it tomorrow, I’m free Thursday if you want someone with you.” 

It’s hard to eat when you’re on the verge of tears. You realize this now, as well as the fact that food tastes bland when you’re crying. You keep your head down, choking down the tasteless food while the tears begin to fall and land on and in the box on your lap. The sniffing follows, and you try to force the sobs back but it begins to hurt. 

Ryujin doesn’t say much. She sits across from you, listening to you and not trying to talk to you. You appreciate it. While receiving comfort is nice, it’s sometimes better to just have someone nearby. 

Just the knowledge that she cares to stay is enough for you. 

~

Tuesday is uneventful. You no longer have tears to cry, your eyes seemingly dried up and sick of you. You continue to lay in bed, moping. Wooyoung comes by again. This time he attempts small jokes, things you used to laugh at. Jongho getting yelled at by Hongjoong for spilling coffee on a canvas. Making fun of someone in your shared class for tripping on the shitty lecture hall stairs. 

“It’s boring without you,” he says finally. “We aren’t laughing like we used to. Hongjoong is locking himself up in the studio more, coming out less. San is picking up more shifts at the cafe. Yeosang, too. Jongho spends more time at the gym. Yunho doesn’t cook, and when he does it tastes like shit.” He takes a breath after a second, and you listen carefully. “Seonghwa doesn’t clean anymore, which is funny considering he was always yelling at us about keeping our spaces clean. The house has essentially become one big trash pile.” You note how he doesn’t talk about himself, or about Mingi. You want to know why. You want to know why he is here and the one who started all this isn’t.

“You’re probably wondering why it’s me here, right? Why Mingi hasn’t come to try and talk to you?” There’s a thump against the door, you presume it’s him leaning his head against it. “If we were joking, I would tell you I got the short end of the stick this time around. Granted, it’s my fault this happened. If I hadn’t gotten myself fucked up in the first place, maybe you still wouldn’t have known. Maybe this whole thing wouldn’t have happened, maybe we could’ve forgotten the bet even existed or Mingi would’ve told you. So it’s my fault.”

~

It isn’t. You know it isn’t his fault. Yes, he had been part of it. Yes, he’d neglected to tell you a crucial part of why Mingi had approached you. But, at the end of the day, it’s Mingi’s fault. He didn’t have to take the bet. He could’ve refused. He could’ve told you outright.

Everything seems bittersweet. Every memory you have of college, from your first class with Mingi, to the day of the party. You can’t help but hate the things you once loved about him. His laugh, his gummy smile, the way he carried your things wherever the two of you went, the way he kissed you. All those things are so bitter in your mind. 

The convenience store down the road from your campus once held so many good memories. The first time the two of you met, the little trips you’d make whenever one of you couldn’t sleep. Those sour candies used to taste so good to you, but now you can’t bring yourself to even look at the small blue bags.  

~

Wednesday. You wake up to Ryujin’s alarm, and force yourself out of bed. You know you have to go to class today, know you’ll have to at some point or you’ll fall behind. You know you can’t do that, not when you’re so close to getting out of here.

There’s a knock at the door. Ryujin groans from where she still lays in bed, and you sigh knowing you’re gonna have to answer it.

And boy, do you regret doing that.

“Mingi,” you choke out. He blinks down at you, mouth partially open and eyes filled with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“I— I wanted to see you.” He stutters, hands clenching around the papers he’d been holding. “You weren’t in our— your classes yesterday so I wanted to bring you these.” He shoves the papers forward. Notes. Organized in the same way you’d done for him these past few years, little doodles and notes scattered across the slightly wrinkled pages. “I tried to— to keep them neat, like yours. I hope they’re okay.” 

You don’t say anything for a few moments, just staring down at these notes. These stupid fucking notes that shouldn’t affect you like they are, that shouldn’t make you want to go crawling back to him like you want to. 

“Thank you.” You say numbly, your voice trembling slightly but you blame it on the early morning fatigue. There’s a tiny spark of hope on his face, his eyes twinkling slightly. “Please leave now.” 

And just like that, the hope he’d had for just a few moments is completely crushed. 

~

Mingi knows it’s his fault. Knows he can’t blame you when you shut the door in his face. He should be happy you didn’t slam it the second you saw his face, and he’s forever grateful that you didn’t. 

He pushes a few loose strands of his fiery hair out of his face, shoulders slumping forward while he makes his way to the exit of the building. The warm air of mid-September hits him hard, and his nose scrunches while he adjusts. 

“Did you really think she was gonna forgive you?” Jongho stands to his left, leaning back against the brick wall of your dorm building. 

“What are you doing here, Jongho?” The younger boy shrugs and pulls himself off the wall.

“Making sure you didn’t do anything stupid.” There’s a pause and Jongho corrects himself. “At least, not again.”

“I get it,” Mingi snaps. “I fucked up.”

“You did more than fuck up, Mingi. You ruined her.” Jongho’s eyes are narrowed, and Mingi has to take sharp breaths to keep himself from lashing out. “What do you think is gonna happen with her now? She doesn’t trust any of us, the people she considered to be her best friends up until Wooyoung told her what you did because you didn’t. She’s going to isolate herself, Mingi. She’s going to decide that she hates you, and then you’ll never be able to reverse the damage you did. The damage we all did.” 

“What do you expect me to do, Jongho?” Mingi huffs and Jongho shrugs. Of course the younger boy would come here and bitch at him, but not offer a solution. He’s on his own this time. He has to fix this himself and he isn’t quite sure where to begin. 

“Fix it. I don’t want to lose my best friend because you’re a fucking asshole.”

~

Surprisingly, you go a full week without any of them trying to talk to you in person. It’s a week of whispers and piteous looks. A week of judgement. A week of wanting to kill anyone and everyone around you except for Ryujin and her friends.

“How long do you think it’ll be before he tries to get the boys to apologize?” Ryujin stabs a fork into her cafeteria salad. You shrug, resting your head on the palm of your hand. 

“I hope he doesn’t.” Yuna says bluntly, “he doesn’t deserve any type of forgiveness from you. I don’t care how good he fucked you while you were together.”

“Technically,” you say, “we weren’t together.”

“He never asked you to be his girlfriend?” Yeji’s jaw drops and you shake your head. “And you still held onto him for three years?” 

It’s silly, thinking about it now. You’d been looking for something secure, and he’d given you that for a while, but it hadn’t been enough. You couldn’t claim him faithful to you, because you were never together. And yet…you tried to remain as faithful to him as possible. A part of you had hoped that he’d ask you to be his, to make it official. A part of you didn’t care for the labels, or the technicalities, or anything like that. You just wanted him to tell you that he was yours, and you were his. Just that would’ve been enough for you.

“Don’t give her a hard time,” Lia scolded. “You would’ve done the same thing.”

“Not for three years though,” Chaeryoung frowned. “At that point I would’ve asked him how serious he actually was, and whether he actually wanted to be with me or not.”

“I did, a few times.” You defend yourself. “And he always said that I was the only one he wanted.”

“But he never made it explicitly clear that you were together?” Lia scoffed. “Fucking loser. All of them, not just him.”

“I dunno…” You shrug again and run your tongue over your lower lip. “They were my friends, at one point or another. That much, I know.” 

You’re watching them together. Watching them cram together at one table in the university’s dining hall. They aren’t boisterous as they usually are. They aren’t laughing and yelling and throwing things at each other. They sit quietly, hardly talking to each other. Every now and again, one of them will look in your direction for a brief moment and lock eyes with you, looking away immediately after. 

But not Mingi.

He didn’t look at you even once. 

You see the sour candy on the table in front of him, unopened and untouched. The blue bag seems to be mocking you, even from across the room. You look away before you feel the tears well up, returning to your table’s new conversation. A party on Friday, one that Ryujin is forcing all of you to go to. 

You don’t see Mingi look up at you as soon as you look away, or the way Seonghwa has to stop him from getting up from the table and approaching you.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Mingi and Wooyoung fight (physical), very suggestive at the beginning!!!, hair pulling, minor choking, oral (m and fem receiving), degradation, unprotected sex (don't take after their example! Stay safe kids!), breast play, creampie, minor marking I think, rough sex. I think that's it but lemme know if I missed something!!

~

You can feel him watching you. Across the room, tucked in a corner. He’s watching you and Wooyoung talk to each other, get closer to each other. You know he watches Wooyoung’s hand brush your arm. You don’t look at him, though. You keep your gaze on the man in front of you, chills running up your arm where he touches you. 

“You’re extra flirtatious tonight,” you comment softly, just barely audible to the two of you over the pulsing base coming from the speakers. Wooyoung smiles and leans down to you.

“Am I now?” His breath fans the side of your face, and you can’t help the way you lean into him when he pulls back. A quiet laugh, and you tuck your chin down out of embarrassment. 

She’s already moving on?

What a fucking bitch.

I’m glad Mingi finally saw that she wasn’t worth it.

Your heart lurches, you blink back the tears in your eyes. Four months later, and you’re still the talk of the university. Four months of whispers, of jeers, of Mingi letting people believe that you were the villain of this story. Oh, how you’d like to tell them the truth. That you were nothing but a bet to him, and you were able to accept that and move on when he wouldn’t.

“Hey,” Wooyoung slips a finger under your chin, tilting your head up so you would look at him. “Ignore them. They’re not worth your time or energy anymore.” 

“You make it sound like they were worth my time in the first place.” He smiles. “Besides, I have someone to focus my…energy on.” A quirk of his eyebrow, a sly smirk. 

“And who might that be?” He’s leaning towards you, and you back up knowing he’d follow you. He follows you until you’ve backed yourself against the wall and he’s close enough that you can feel the gentle brushes of his breath on your cheek. 

“Curious, are you?” His hands are on your hips, thumbs running circles against the clothed skin. 

“Just a bit.” His lips are brushing against yours under the flashing lights, casting shadows around the two of you. If anyone really notices the two of you, they don’t say anything. Or maybe they do, and they just choose to move on. Too drunk to care, to high to figure out what’s really happening. 

The first light press of his lips against yours has you swimming with emotions. It’s quick, not quite hesitant but not quite confident. Testing the waters, not rushing into it like you had with Mingi. It’s experimental, testing to see if you’d pull away or pull him closer. You like the way his lips taste. He tastes sweet, like cherries. There’s a slight salty taste to his lips, as well as lime from the shots he’d taken earlier and you can’t help but crave more.

The second kiss is deeper, and you decide on the latter, grabbing onto his jacket. His lips move smoothly against yours, and his hands squeeze against your hips, digging into your skirt and tugging you toward him. You’re both growing desperate for each other. The days you’ve spent together, the subtle comments and fleeting touches building up to now. 

His lips part, and you feel his tongue prodding at your lip, a light encouragement for you to let him in. To let him taste you. And you do, your mouth opening bit by bit until he can slip his tongue into your mouth. You relish in the feeling of his tongue licking into you. Sliding against your own, brushing against the roof of your mouth, and pushing itself as far back as it can reach. Wooyoung wants to taste all of you, you can feel it in the way he chases your lips every time you pull back for air. When one of his hands comes to rest on the back of your neck. A soft moan escapes you, and you feel him smile against your lips. Your senses feel both heightened and muted, the feeling of Wooyoung kissing you beginning to overwhelm you.

When he finally pulls away from you, he doesn’t go far. You don’t let him go. You hold onto his biceps, your nose brushing against his while you catch your breath. 

“Have I told you,” he breathes out, “that you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen?” 

“Wouldn’t hurt for you to say it one more time.” 

His lips press against yours one more time, and then you’re being pulled away from the wall and against his body. You ignore the dirty looks you receive. Wooyoung is the only one that matters right now. Not the petty girls who begin to spread their rumors again. Not Mingi, who glares at the two being so absorbed in one another in the middle of the party he’d invited you to. Not that either of you were aware of that. You’d presumed it was Seonghwa, one of the few you kept in contact with. 

“Here, or home?” Home is the apartment he shares with Jongho and San after moving out, getting away from their old friends. Away from Mingi, and the picking of sides. 

Another breathless kiss is placed against Wooyoung’s lips, and then he’s torn away from you and thrown to the floor with a tall, muscular figure pouncing on him immediately.

The crowd erupts into shocked yells. A circle forms, no one daring to interrupt the the two. Wooyoung flips Mingi onto his back, yelling something that you can’t hear. You know he isn’t fighting back. You can see him just holding Mingi’s shirt, trying and failing to dodge the fists that fly up. San pushes past you, Jongho, Yeosang, and Yunho following quickly after to separate the two. 

“You think you can go after my girl like that?” Mingi yells, eyeing you when you get closer. Glaring at you when you cling to Wooyoung’s side instead of his. 

“She stopped being your girl the moment you made that bet, jackass,” Wooyoung snarls. There’s blood dripping down the side of his face. Your hands shake at your sides, terror and anger filling your body and nearly overwhelming you. 

A bet?

He made a bet about her?

What an asshole.

How could she not have known?

Poor girl…

“That’s not true and you know it!” Mingi comes closer, but Yeosang pushes him back, muttering to stop. “You know that I claimed her. You fucking her won’t change a goddamn thing, Jung Wooyoung.”

“You didn’t claim shit! You can’t fucking claim a person, Mingi! Do you know how fucked up you sound? Do you even understand what you’re saying?” Wooyoung’s hand wraps around yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand despite how badly you know they ache. 

“I get it now,” Mingi sneers and glares down at you. “She probably fucked you while we were together, didn’t you Y/N? You’re a fucking slut—”

Your hand collides with his face before you even recognize that you’ve left Wooyoung’s side. Gasps and yells rise from the crowd.

Did she just hit him?

I didn’t think she had it in her!

I would hate to be any of them right now…

“How…” your voice trembles when you speak and Mingi looks down at the ground like a kicked puppy. “Fucking dare you accuse me of that. How dare you assume I was anything but loyal to you for the full three years you refused to “claim” me as your own.” Your fingers formed quotes in the air. The house has gotten quiet. 

“Y/N,” Wooyoung reaches for you and San pushes him back with a shake of his head.

“Wooyoung was the only one who was honest with me. He was the only one that had the balls to realize that what you all did to me was awful and cruel and just fucking evil. You have let people run around this campus, spreading rumors that I cheated on you, that I slept with all of your friends, that I did some awful shit to you and you didn’t even try to deny it!” 

He did that?

I knew something was up with him!

“Oh will you all shut the fuck up?” Your gaze flies to the crowd, and you watch people cringe away from you. “Don’t act all fuckin high and mighty now that the truth is out. Go take your horseshit somewhere else, go spread your fucking rumors and stay out of this for once!” People begin to flee immediately after, scurrying out the door and ducking their heads to keep from locking eyes with you.

“Y/N,” Mingi starts, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Save it, Song Mingi.” You shake your head. He stares at you. “We’re done. I’m so fucking done with you. Don’t come near me again. Don’t talk to me. Don’t approach me, or anyone that i care about. I never want to see you again.”

~

“What you did was stupid.” Wooyoung sits at your desk while you treat the wounds he received. A warm wash cloth touches his face, and you watch him wince. 

“I didn’t touch him, if it makes you feel better.” You frown, brushing your fingers lightly over the bruises forming on his face. The blood has been cleaned off of his skin, the cuts bandaged. The bruises…there’s no hiding those. There’s nothing to help them heal.

“It doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“I’m kinda sick of you boys saying you’re sorry.” He frowns, wringing his hands in his lap. “I just want you to not do it again, okay?”

“Okay.” You look down at him, and he lets his head fall forward, landing one your stomach. He sits there for a few moments, and you raise your hand to run it through his messy hair. You’re upset, of course, but you can’t help the little smile on your lips. 

“Woo…” 

You can feel his hands touching your bare leg, where your skirt stops and your bare skin begins. You can feel him pushing his fingers under the tight fabric. 

“What?” He lifts his head, a devious look in his eyes when he rests his chin against your stomach.

“Do you really think I want to have sex with you now? After what you did?” He smiles at you, enjoying the way your body tenses the higher his fingers climb. 

“It’ll make you feel good~” He sings. “And you won’t have to do anything today!” You run your tongue over your lip, raising an eyebrow at him. He places a light kiss to your stomach, and you feel him pulling you to straddle his hips on your desk chair. 

“You think there’s gonna be a next time?” He pouts at your teasing comment, digging his fingers into your sides. You erupt into giggles, trying to pull away from him but he just pulls you closer to him. 

“Don’t tease me like that! Not after I was just your brave Prince Charming!” You scoff and he presses a light kiss to your lips, one that you quickly return. When you pull away, you tilt his chin up, forcing him to look you in the in the same way he’d done earlier.

“You promise I don’t have to do anything?” He begins to raise your shirt, hands sliding up your torso and pausing when they reach your breasts.

“Absolutely nothing, baby.” You hum, your fingers tangling in Wooyoung’s hair when he begins to kiss the thing material of your bralette. 

“I don’t wanna fuck you in my desk chair. That’s hard to clean.”

“Know from experience?” A hint of scorn in his voice. Not toward you, but at the fact to Mingi got to fuck you in that chair and he didn’t. 

“A bit. Why? You jealous?” Wooyoung scoffs, lifting you up and walking you backward to your bed until you’re falling backward onto the mattress. 

“Of that asshole? Never.” Your shirt slides over your head, your bralette following. His eyes are gleaming with lust and you can’t help but squirm under his gaze. “After all, he’ll never get to see you like this again. I on the other hand, will get to see this whenever you want me to. Preferably every day.” 

You gasp when his lips attach to your neck, to your collarbone, and just above the curve of your breasts. He sucks dark marks into your skin, relishing in the way you’re gasping and whining his name. The quiet Wooyoung… and please… that begin to fall from your lips has him growing harder in his pants. The fact that it’s his name that you’re saying, not Mingi. 

His lips finally attach to one of your nipples, his hand coming to squeeze at the neglected one. He mouths at your skin, sucking, kissing, biting and licking. His free hand squishes the two mounds together, both hands tugging and pinching your nipples while he practically suffocates himself between your boobs. 

You feel arousal pooling between your thighs and you try to wrap your legs around his waist. To pull him down to grind against your heat and relieve some of the pressure that builds. He pulls away from you when you do so, smirking down at you, at the mess he’s created against your skin. 

“When I told you to let me do everything, baby,” Your eyes widen, and he shuffles your body further up the bed. “I meant it.” 

He strips you of your skirt and panties without a second thought, staring down at your dripping pussy with a hunger in his eyes. Pure, unadulterated, filthy desire. When you try to close your legs, he’s quick to catch you and spread them open again.

“Don’t— don’t look at me like that,” your voice is weaker than you’d intended it to be. His eyes flick up to look at you again, licking at his lips and smiling again.

“Nervous?”

“No.” You choke on your breath when he lunges forward, diving into your heat and giving you the first, long lick. His tongue dips briefly into your hole, making your body lurch and a choked moan escape your lips. You cry out when he sucks firmly at your clit, lapping at it immediately after until you’re shaking underneath him. “F-fuck Woo, please!”

“What, baby?” He pulls away from you for just a moment, removing his shirt and undoing his belt before you yank him back down to you, your lips sliding frantically against his. He groans against your lips when you palm at his growing bulge, undoing the button and slowly undoing the zipper so you can slip your hand into his pants. “Fuck, okay baby. I know what you want. Gotta prep you first, though.” You preen against him, your hips jerking when his hand slips down to play with your pussy. Two fingers prod at your entrance, slipping in with surprising ease. He thrusts them into you slowly, curling them when he begins to pull them up. 

His whole body goes rigid when you wrap your hand around his hardened cock, his breath coming out in little gasps and his fingers stuttering inside of you despite the way you beg for him to go faster, that you’re almost there.

“Thought you— you were gonna let me do everything?” He chokes out, and your eyes flutter when you look at him.

“C-changed my m-mind.”

Wooyoung’s groans turn into whines and whimpers when you begin to pump his shaft in tandem with his fingers sliding in and out of you. When he picks up speed, curling his fingers to hit that spongey spot inside of you, you pump your hand faster and dig your thumb into the slit. Despite the pleasure you both feel, you try to force yourselves to keep your eyes open. To watch the other receive pleasure.

When you sit up, there’s no way for Wooyoung to stop you. Despite the weak protests he gives you, that he promised you wouldn’t have to do anything, you’re quick to shut him up with a squeeze to his cock. His fingers slip out of you, but you can’t find yourself caring. Not when he looks so angelic, his mouth dropped open in a silent ‘o’, his back arching into you and his abs tightening. 

“G-Gonna cum, baby.” He whines. “Fuck, please, ‘m gonna cum baby please—” You tear your hand off of his cock, and he cries out, body jerking at the sudden loss of pleasure. You can see the dark, wet spot forming on his boxers, and finally tug his pants down his legs. His underwear follows soon after, and you finally see his cock. You can’t help the drool that pools in your mouth. It’s long, not too skinny and not too girthy. The tip is curved, and you just know that it’ll hit all the right spots inside of you. 

And fuck, do you want it in your mouth. 

He can’t even stop you when you bring your mouth down onto him, taking him deep until your nose is pressed against the warm skin of his pelvis, until he can feel himself brushing against the back of your throat. His body trembles when you begin to drag your mouth back up, all in one long, slow suck with your tongue rubbing against the vein on the underside of his cock. An airy moan leaves his lips, one he hadn’t expected from himself. 

You begin to leave little kitten licks at the tip of his cock, tongue digging into his slit ever so slightly and relishing in the salty taste that seeps into your mouth from his precum. His hand is tangling in your hair, gripping it tightly but not quite pushing you back down onto him like you’d love for him to do. He’s gentle with you. He’s holding back on you. You want to break him. 

“Baby, s-stop.” He chokes out, but his hand finally begins to push you down onto his dick, contradicting what he said. “D-don’t wanna cum yet.” You only suck harder, fingers digging into his thighs when your throat begins to contract around him. 

Wooyoung finally manages to yank you off of him, and you can see his chest rising and falling rapidly. He grips your hair tightly, the back of your head stinging from where he pulls on the strands, and your neck tilted backward. You look at him with lust filled eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. 

“You don’t know how to listen, do you?” He hisses, his free hand tracing a line down your neck. 

“Wanted to— to suck you off,” you breathe out, gasping when his hand finds its place around your throat and squeezes lightly. 

“Poor baby,” he croons, “so desperate for cock that she won’t even listen to simple instructions, hm?” When you don’t respond, he squeezes your throat a bit tighter. A weak moan escapes your throat and he scoffs, practically manhandling you so you’re on your stomach with your ass in the air and your legs spread open for him. You can feel him running his hands all over your body, squeezing at your breasts, your waist, your hips, and your thighs. 

“Wooyoung,” you whine, wiggling your hips as a means to get him to come closer to you. To fuck you. “Wooyoung, please fuck me.” 

“I will, baby,” he coos, and you whine at the first sign of his cock pressing at your entrance. “I will.”

The stretch has you writhing beneath him, having not fucked anyone in months. You whine into the mattress, your eyes rolling back and drool beginning to drool out the side of your mouth. Your hands grip the sheets, almost tears the threads when he finally bottoms out inside of you. He doesn’t wait to start fucking you, his hips immediately setting in at a brutal pace that has you screaming his name, begging him to go faster, to fuck you harder.

His hips clap loudly against your ass, the arousal that drips from you aiding him as he slips in and out of you. His grip on your hips grows tighter when your walls squeeze around his throbbing length, already so close to release. He won’t cum before you though. Not before you’ve had your fill of pleasure, of him. 

“So full,” you preen, “So fucking full, Woo, please, fuck me harder!” He doesn’t respond, too fucked out to respond. He complies though, his hips pounding against yours and driving you closer to your oncoming orgasm. You try to slip your hands down to your clit, but he slaps your hand away to replace it with his own. 

“You’re not making yourself cum,” he hisses, gripping your hair and yanking you back against his chest. The new angle has your back arching and your jaw dropping. “That’s right, baby, let everyone know how good I’m making you feel. I want you to scream for me.”

And you do. The stimulation of his fingers rubbing harshly at your clit combined with his hips slamming repeatedly into that spongey spot deep inside you has you seeing stars. You slump against his body, unable to keep your body held up. Your orgasm hits you hard, has you reeling and screaming for the man behind you. His lips attach to your neck, sinking his teeth in while his hips stutter and he empties himself inside of you. 

When he lays you back down, your arms completely give out, your body slumping against his mattress. He stays upright behind you, cock slowly softening against his thigh. His head is tilted back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You watch him from where you’re curled up on his bed. He looks ethereal in the dim light of his room, sweat beading on his forehead and the bruises on his face only adding to his current appearance. 

~

“So,” Hongjoong sits across from you and Wooyoung in a cafe. You were surprised to see him, honestly. You and Wooyoung had been on a date, three weeks after the night of the party, when the tired music student had stumbled into the same cafe and started a quiet conversation.

“So,” Wooyoung’s hand traces shapes on your thigh, keeping you calm.

“You two are together now?” 

“We are.” Wooyoung confirms, a small smile crossign his face.

“Good,” Hongjoong nods. “That’s good. Can’t say I saw it coming, but I’m happy for the two of you. As long as you’re happy together.”

“Thank you, Joong.” You shift in your seat, leaning slightly into Wooyoung’s side. He smiles down at you when you do this, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

“How is he?” Woo asks, looking down at his coffee.

“Who? Mingi?” Your boyfriend nods and Hongjoong sighs.

“Not good, to be honest.” 

“Oh.”

“He’s isolating himself, won’t let us talk to him.” You furrow your brows and bite at your bottom lip. “He’s heartbroken, I guess. Not that he even deserved a second chance after what he’d been doing after you found out. The rumors, the forced conversations, the fight. He’s lucky we didn’t kick him out of the house.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask. “Not that I wish you had. Just curious.”

“I get it.” Hongjoong nods and sips at the iced drink in front of him. “Mostly because, despite what he did, he’s still my friend. It sounds fucked up, but he’s always been there for me you know?”

“He’s been there for you, so you have to return the favor.” Wooyoung nods. “Understandable. We won’t judge you for that, despite what he’s done.”

“I know.”

“He’s lucky to have you, Joong.” You comment, and the older man smiles at you. It’s a weak, fragile smile. One on the verge of collapse. “It’ll get better.”

“Will it?” 

“It will. I know it will.” A shaky sigh from the man across from you. A sniff. “You have my number if you need anything from us.” Wooyoung looks down at you, his eyes wide with shock. You just shrug at him. “I might hate Mingi, but I don’t hate Hongjoong. The others haven’t bothered to reach out so I can’t say the same for them.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Hongjoong smiles at you and looks down at his lap right after. “You don’t have to, though. Not after everything he put you through.”

“Not for him,” you shake your head. “For you, for Seonghwa and Yunho and Yeosang. You four deserve it.”

He looks at you one more time, but he doesn't say anything else to you.

Content. Closure. You smile to yourself, knowing that even if this year had been a shitshow, you're in a better place than you'd been previously. You're happier, with a good group of friends and a man that loves you and isn't afraid to show it anymore.

Happy. A sweet ending to a horror story you hadn't known you were in until now.