It was pretty clear that you had no interest in him. You were too busy gushing to Jongho’s older sister about boys from your university, none of them being anything remotely similar to Jongho. You liked boys who were older, much older, and stronger and bigger than you too. You liked them smart and outgoing. Jongho didn’t see himself as any of those things. When he first realized he was crushing hard on you back in his freshman year of high school, Jongho was still small and meek, a lanky boy with big eyes and a heart that beat for the prettiest girl in school. He still vividly remembers the first time he popped a boner because of you. He was truly a lost cause from the beginning. But he was never brave enough to act upon any of his feelings. He thought that just getting to be your friend for now was good enough. everyone wanted to be friends with you anyway. Jongho guesses that having his sister be your best friend came to his advantage in a way. But as the years passed, and things started to change, the one thing that remained unmoving was how you made Jongho feel. What used to be an innocent little crush that would make him swoon became something that started to intoxicate him. Jongho’s mind had long since strayed from innocent thoughts of getting to hold your hand and ask you out on cute dates where he’d kiss you on the cheek and tell you how beautiful you are. Jongho was not a little boy anymore. His high school days are over. He’s grown a good few inches since then. His body is strong, with broad shoulders and thick thighs that would make any girl swoon. His cheeks have lost their softness, jaw chiseled and more defined now instead. His speech is no longer quiet and slurred. His voice is deep and his words are much more calculated. His thoughts changed drastically too. He looks at you with hunger behind his eyes.

The hands he had once dreamed of intertwining his fingers with were now the ones he imagined trapping in his grasp, pinned above your head. The waist he had once longed to wrap his arms around and hold close was now one he imagined digging his fingertips into, leaving deep purple bruises in their wake.

The lips he thought of gently kissing he now pictures red and puffy from his teeth biting into them. Everything about Jongho changed. He now desires you in a much more carnal way than ever before. but despite all that, you still won’t look at him. It’s started to make Jongho beyond frustrated. having to see you come over and talk to his sister about every boy you’ve been seeing or hooking up with, when he’s the one that’s been pining after you for so long. it’s simply unfair and it makes Jongho want to pull his hair out. He hates having to see you dressed in skimpy little outfits, prancing around their house and getting ready, only to go out to clubs with his sister where other men would get to have their eyes and disgusting hands all over your body. Everyone else but Jongho got to have a taste of you and he was slowly starting to despise you for that. Having to see you so often became too overbearing when he realized you would never return his feelings. You would never look at Jongho the way he looks at you; with lust. All that you see him as is your best friend’s little brother. That’s all he’ll ever be in your eyes.

Jongho fucking hates that thought with a fiery passion.

It’s not uncommon for you to sleep over at their house most days. Jongho knows you prefer being here rather than with your own parents, since they’ve never really been good to you. Every time his sister and you go out clubbing, you’re guaranteed to come back to their place and sleep over.

Lately, it’s become a much more frequent occurrence for you to come back by yourself, after Jongho’s sister ends up ditching you at whatever party you were at, for any guy she decided to leave with that night. Which left you to come back to the house alone.

Where the only one waiting was Jongho. Most nights he’d sleep through the sound of the front door slamming and shuffling inside the house. But something made him startle awake this time around. Jongho is by no means a light sleeper, but today the sound of kitchen cabinets opening and closing rouse him from slumber, and the constant hiccups and loud steps padding through the living room wouldn’t let him go back to sleep. It’s like that for a good ten minutes. The commotion keeps him awake, staring at the ceiling of his room with a scowl etched between his brows, until it stops. The house falls silent again, almost as if it’s just him and no one else. But Jongho knows he’s not the only one in the house anymore, and since he didn’t hear his sister’s bedroom door opening, he knows she must not be the other person inside the house either. After another five minutes or so of silently staring into the darkness, he finally decides to kick the blankets off his body and get out of bed. The floor creaks as he walks and the tiles in the hallway are cold beneath his feet. He wishes he had put some socks on. Coming to a stop behind the living room couch he glances over at the tv that’s playing some sort of horror movie on mute that he knows he didn’t leave it on before going to bed. With a sigh, he walks closer and peers over the back of the couch. Of course, lying pretty, with hair splayed over the cushions and lips pouted outwards, is none other than you. Dressed in nothing but a tiny top and a skirt that rides halfway up your thighs, your shoes not even off your feet. “Sweet,” Jongho comments dryly, pursing his lips before walking around the couch to crouch before you. Shamelessly, he lets his eyes rake over your body, lingering on your exposed thighs, making his brows pinch together in sudden unreasonable frustration. Of course you had to come in here, looking like a beautiful disaster, smelling of sweet perfume and cigarette smoke, with glitter clinging to your lids and cheeks, most likely drunk off your ass. “You’re a mess,” Jongho scoffs. He doesn’t know why, but he reaches for your ankles, untying the laces that he can tell you must have struggled with, only to give up on. He slips the shoes off and starts to grow more frustrated by the second. “Had fun, Y/N?” he smiles bitterly with no genuine joy behind it. He doesn’t even look at you as he speaks. “I’m guessing not since you came back all by yourself.” You stir in your sleep, mumbling something incoherently before you quiet back down. Your hands are clutched into tiny fists by your head and your knees are bent up, curling into yourself. You look annoyingly adorable and Jongho can’t understand why he’s so angered by the image. “Probably let yourself be groped up at the party, didn’t you?” He spits with malice. “Let everyone just use you right then and there, didn’t even wait for someone to take you home.” You don’t make a single sound, only breathing evenly as you keep on sleeping peacefully. “Pathetic.” Jongho knows he has no right to do this. To say these words to you. To see you as a slut even though you’ve given him no reason to perceive you as such. But it’s the fact that you want everyone out there. Everyone else but him. He doesn’t even think twice before his eyes zero in on where your skirt has lifted enough to offer him a perfect view of your underwear. The light coming from the tv is also doing a good enough job of letting him get a better look. He shouldn’t. He’s disgusting. He’s cruel. He should feel ashamed. He flips your skirt up. The sight of pink lace makes his hands squeeze into fists and his mouth water involuntarily. Pretty, soft, delicate skin. Unmarked. Unclaimed. Right before his eyes. Jongho is going to either gouge his eyes out or get his hands all over your unconscious body in front of him. He opts for the latter.

It’s with a cautious move that he lets his palm run down the swell of your ass. Your skin dips ever so slightly underneath the pressure of his touch. The fat springs back into place when his fingertips dig in and out. Jongho bites his bottom lip until he draws blood. Of course every part of you just has to be pretty and irresistible. Jongho is positively seething at this point. “No one deserves you YN,” he mutters lowly, letting his hand trail down to the back of your thigh, digging his fingertips into the plumpness of it firmly enough to make you whine in your sleep and flip over onto your stomach, offering him easy access. “But i do.” Jongho hooks his index underneath soft lace. His eyes drift briefly over to your face, before he focuses right back. The anger is still present. It’s finally time, he decides. Time to take what is rightfully his. He’s waited long enough. “I deserve this.” Of course you’re still infinitely pretty everywhere. Even where Jongho’s never seen you before. He stares intently at your pussy that’s completely bare and smooth and inviting enough for him to part and expose your hole with two fingers. You’re all soft and pink, glistening beautifully before his eyes. He wants to slap his palm right on top of your cunt just so he can punish you for being so perfect even where you’re not supposed to be. He circles a tentative finger around the tight opening instead. It’s clear as day why anyone would want to get a taste of you. You’re far better than any of Jongho’s wet dreams. Every time he’s imagined himself with his head buried between your thighs, it didn’t even come close to how good you looked in real life. “Look at that,” he whispers, scooting closer and using his other hand to keep your panties pushed to the side. “How many cocks got to sink into this sloppy cunt, hm?” he tugs so hard that he thinks he can hear the lace slowly starting to rip in his hold.

“Who did you whore around for before finally getting to me, Y/N?” Of course you didn’t “get” to him willingly. If you hadn’t passed out drunk on the couch and if Jongho wasn’t such a disgusting pervert, this would’ve probably never happened. But alas, it did. And there’s no going back now. The feeling of moisture against his fingertips takes Jongho aback and it makes his jaw clench. Of course you’re wet from the faintest of touches. Pretty and responsive. Could things get any better? Jongho’s hand is shoved inside his sweatpants before he even gets to blink twice. He’s uselessly fisting at his cock that is now undeniably hard, knowing that what he needs in order to alleviate the ache is to sink it right into the cunt he’s been ogling at. Rising up to his feet, he tugs his pants low enough for his dick to spring free and bob into the open air, hot and hard to the touch. His eyes are locked onto your face, watching as you still sleep soundlessly, without a single clue about what’s about to occur next. His knee props up on the couch cushion right next to your head. With one hand he takes a hold of himself and with the other he smooths your hair off your face, tilting your chin back. “Pretty girl,” he sighs, circling the tip of his dick around your puckered lips. “All mine. just like you were meant to be.” His head prods at your mouth until it finally opens, lips suckling as if it was a pacifier. Jongho grits his teeth and tries his hardest not to slip his entire length down your throat. He lets you suck gently on the tip and drink up all the precum that’s being offered to you. “Fucking cock slut. Look at you.” Jongho’s thumb pushes at the corner of your mouth, encouraging you to open it further. “So eager to have something in your mouth even when you sleep.” You whimper weakly, eyelids starting to twitch. Jongho pays it no mind, guiding his dick little by little inside your mouth, engulfing himself in warmth and wetness, making his balls constrict.

The sight of you sleeping so blissfully unaware with your pussy out in the open and your mouth stuffed with cock makes him almost shoot his load right then and there. Before he realizes it, Jongho has slid far enough inside your mouth to make you gurgle. Your eyes flutter open in confusion. Strings of spit still cling from your lips and onto Jongho’s shaft, the sight utterly obscene. You cough, hand reaching forward to weakly paw at Jongho’s thigh, fingers grasping at the material of his sweatpants. “What the fuck-“ It takes you a little while to be able to focus enough on the sight in front of you. You blink up weakly. “Jongho?” Your eyes need a few long seconds to adjust to the darkness, but when they do, they look as if they might pop out of their sockets when you take notice of Jongho sitting before you with his dick out in the open, hard and wet with your spit. “W-what’s going on?” “Go back to sleep, Y/n,” Jongho’s tone was gruff and unwavering. A slight threat. Your face falls. Your eyes take in the scene in front you much more clearly, face becoming overtaken by fear. “What are you d-doing?” you ask, trying to scramble back. Jongho is quicker, though. His fingers wrap around your chin in a bruising grip before you can get too far. You stare up at him in pure horror. “For once, just let me have this,” Jongho grits, watching as your mouth parts, but seemingly not knowing how you should reply. “Don’t speak.” “Jongho,” you whisper, squirming uncomfortably and still trying to scoot back when you see him grab a hold of his dripping cock, “Y-you can’t do this.” “Why not?” Jongho scoffs, leaning in until he’s speaking right in your face. “This is all your fault, you know?” he spits, watching your eyes grow bigger. “You made me like this. Had me running after you like some sick puppy, only to kick me away like a stray every single time. You left me no choice.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble, a yelp escaping from the back of your throat when Jongho grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you closer until your foreheads press together. “Why don’t you ever look at me?” Jongho asks, hurt evident in his voice. “Why don’t you like me?” “I-I do like you!” You cry out, trying to pry his hand away with your weaker ones, but it’s to no use. “Not the way I want you to.” He shakes his head, as though what he’s about to do has been decided long before this moment. The certainty in his expression makes your heart pound with fear. He releases your hair, only to seize the nape of your neck instead, his grip firm enough to keep you exactly where he wants you. “Not the way I like you.” “This is wrong Jongho, please!” You desperately plead, trying to kick your feet, but to no use. It doesn’t deter Jongho in the slightest. “It is,” Jongho nods his head. He knows it’s wrong. He knows he should stop. But you owe him this. “I’m sorry.” Before you have the chance to scream, the breath is knocked out of your lungs as Jongho manhandles you, flipping you onto your front. Your skirt is still flipped up, underwear hanging crookedly over your hips. It’s relatively easy for Jongho to reach between your thighs and cup you right on top of where you’re warmest. “No, stop!” You struggle uselessly, cries getting more frightened by the second as Jongho continues on unbothered. “Jongho, get off, seriously!” Jongho can tell you’re still drunk. Your movements are sluggish, your speech slightly slurred. You kick your legs weakly and try to scoot away, but you’re far too slow for someone who supposedly doesn’t want this. He uses that as an advantage. A sharp slap lands against your cunt, making you squeak as your body stills instantly. “Let me have this,” Jongho grits out, anger roughening every word. As though this is somehow your fault. As though you’ve done something to wrong him.“Stop refusing me.”

“Please, please, please…let me go,” You hiccup weakly, trying to shift your hips away, but it’s no use. Jongho is already dragging your underwear down your thighs with one hand, the other holding your hands tightly behind your back. “Why does everyone get to have you but me?” Jongho asks bitterly, like he can’t make sense of why you insist on denying him. “Look at this,” he scoffs incredulously, running a tentative finger through your folds. “How many people got to have a taste of this cunt before me?” You gasp wetly, falling stiff as a board, as if all your fight or flight instincts have suddenly left. You can do nothing but breathe heavily as Jongho’s fingers start to run up and down through your parted folds. The first press to your clit has you yelping and trembling, as if a button had been pushed inside of you. Your body reacts against your own will, hole slicking in an instant. When Jongho’s fingertips come back sticky he chuckles darkly. “Of course you’re wet,” He presses down even more punishingly on your clit, making your legs flail, mouth falling open. “You don’t even want me, yet your little cunny is gushing at the slightest touch.”

A shudder of humiliation goes through you. You think you should definitely be fighting a lot harder than are. Your high pitched mewls are not doing much to help you in your current predicament. “W-wait, stop,” You gasps at the first hint of a finger near your opening. “Please!” Your pleas fall upon deaf ears as Jongho easily sinks two fingers down to the knuckle. He grunts. You feel snug and warm—like you’re trying to suck him right in. Jonghos wondered for so long how you would feel inside. He can’t believe the day in which his questions are being answered has finally come. “Fucking tight,” he grunts, fingers scissoring inside your cunt mercilessly, adding another alongside the first two.

It’s a tight fit, but your gushing hole accepts it greedily. “Love your slutty body.” Your hands try weakly to slide out of Jongho’s grip. So weakly it can’t even be considered an actual attempt. Jongho wants to laugh at the futile attempt but he focuses on thrusting his fingers harder instead. "Could probably break you right in half.” It’s not a lie. You looks so small and fragile underneath him right now. The words, although they don't sound like a genuine threat, are far from false. "Fuck you so hard that you'd ache for days on end." You sob pitifully, face splotchy with tears and mouth overfilling with spit that dribbles down the corners of your mouth. This already feels like too much and Jongho hasn’t even gotten his dick inside of you yet. “You’d like it too,” Jongho continues to speak. He curls his fingers causing you to release a choked sound. “I know you would.” You try to shake your head no, but your neck aches too much in your position. “Filthy little slut.” A whine escapes you when the fingers inside of you suddenly pull out without warning, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing, still wet and throbbing in the chilly air of the room. You take that as a chance and desperately struggle to push yourself up when your arms get released. Jongho is on you in an instant, having climbed up on the couch behind you, hands forcefully holding your hips down. You sob softly as you grip onto the couch arm uselessly, blunt fingernails digging into the velvety material. The breath gets knocked out of your lungs when you feel something prodding at your entrance. “I’m going to fuck you,” Jongho says without a hint of doubt. No hint of hesitation. Jongho wholeheartedly means what he says and you know that. Which is exactly why you’re absolutely terrified, heart now stuck in your throat. “N-no, Jongho, please! I’ll do anything! Y-you can take me out—we’ll go on a date, and we can do whatever you want. Please!”You desperately try to reason with him. On any other day, Jongho might have considered your proposal. He wishes it didn’t have to come to this for you to finally entertain the idea of going on a date with him. Jongho lets out a heavy sigh. “You’d do anything?” 

You nod frantically. “Anything!” 

Jongho pretends to think it over. He ponders with a hand holding his dick and the other pressing down on the small of your back, keeping you in place.  

“Then sit still,” He finally grunts followed by a sharp thrust of his hips. A painful wheeze rips straight out of your lungs when he shoves himself inside your outstretched cunt, bottoming out in one go.  Fat tears instantly roll down your already sticky cheeks, your frail body getting jostled forward from the powerful thrust. 

“Shit,” Jongho grunts at the same time as you whisper another “please” that goes unanswered. “Always knew you’d have the tightest pussy.” 

Your stomach stirs as Jongho begins to pull out, the drag feeling searing against your walls, only to push right back in twice as powerful. You think you see white for a solid moment. 

“Oh God,” you moan, gripping tightly onto the couch as you get mercilessly plowed into. The worst part of it all is when it starts to feel good. You can’t deny how deliciously heavy Jongho feels inside of you. How well he’s pounding you right into the couch, making you feel small and helpless underneath him, completely overpowered. 

You gush around his cock so much you’re sure you made a puddle underneath yourself. “Mine,” Jongho growls, lowering down enough so he can nip on the back of your neck. “All of you belongs to me, Y/n. This pretty little body of yours,” You cry out when your front gets lifted enough for Jongho to sneak his hands underneath your chest and cup your breasts over your top, “These fat tits,” you positively sob when your bra is pushed down and your perky nipples get exposed to the air of the room, twisted by skillful fingers, “This tight little cunt.” the statement is accompanied by a powerful thrust that you feel all the way in your  tummy. “Mine, Mine, Mine. You’re all mine.” 

You can do nothing but keep on moaning as you get fucked within an inch of your life, filthy words being continuously grunted in your ear as you  unwillingly hurl towards an orgasm, screaming as you cum and let go all around Jongho’s cock. 

“God, you really are just the perfect whore,” Jongho’s hips piston into you, making your ass jiggle with every powerful thrust, painfully overstimulating your sensitive hole as he pounds you with purpose. Before you can try to recover, and get a grasp on reality, Jongho is cumming hotly inside of you, making you keen high in your throat as you feel how deep he shoots his load. 

You’re unable to do anything else but slump down with a defeated whimper.   

“Good, so good. Did so well,” Jongho practically purrs, pressing kisses over your shoulder blades, still holding you down. “I knew you’d like it.” 

You want to scream. To tell him that you didn’t like it. That it was wrong. But that would clearly be a lie. The only thing you can do is whine. 

“Shh, don’t worry,” Jongho leans forward so he can reach your face, kissing your cheek tenderly. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

You lost the power to protest long ago. 

Jongho sits behind the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cornflakes when his sister walks into the house at the crack of dawn. She seems surprised to find him awake so early in the morning. Quickly scanning the room, she realizes it’s just the two of them.

“Where’s Y/n?” she asks, furrowing her brows as she tosses her purse onto the couch.

Jongho shrugs. “Dunno.”

She yawns loudly as she clumsily slips off her shoes. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me up.”

Jongho rolls his eyes, but a slight smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. He wouldn’t even dream of it. When the door to his sister’s bedroom shuts loudly, he deems it safe to get up and places his bowl in the sink before retreating to his own room. The sun has just started to rise, and his room is engulfed in a weak yellow glow. Jongho thinks there is nothing more beautiful in the world than the sight of you lying in his bed in the warm glow of the sunrise—naked and bruised, completely debauched and cum stained. “Hi, pretty baby.” He smiles widely as he locks the door behind him. You whine from behind the makeshift gag Jongho tied around your head and shoved inside your mouth. “Guess what?” You whine weakly as Jongho stalks toward you, carefully climbing onto the bed and hovering above you. When he frees your mouth and lets you catch your breath, he speaks the words you don’t know if you’ve been dreading or somehow excitedly anticipating. “I get to have you for the whole day.” You don’t even have time to respond before he’s kissing you again. And again. And then again, until the world around you disappears, until you melt into the mattress and into Jongho’s arms. Where you belong.

── ۶ৎ thinking of Jongho, who sees his pleasant quiet time late at night on the terrace interrupted by you, who steps onto your own balcony almost like a ghost, silent and frightening him. there is a bottle of alcohol in your hand whose label he can't read, but can tell is pretty strong. he sees you down it as you drink straight from it, downing it with barely a wince from your face. he sees you turn your face around as you casually take in the quiet scenery when your eyes settle on him. then, without missing a beat you extend your arm in his direction.

"my bad, do you want some?" he doesn't answer right away, a shocked, small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth at the casualness of your tone "wait' you can drink, can you? you look young"

the question pulls at the ugly pride barely buried under the surface of his usually thick skin. without really a word of acknowledgement, he does the unthinkable and demands the bottle with a gesture of his hand as he gets up from his chair. the distance between the balconies is small, easy to pass the bottle around. easy enough to jump he thinks when he gets a better look at you. the bottle is ice cold, but he can tell where your palm has rested by the melted, slippery condensation surrounded by frost. he takes a sip from it, eyes fixed on you before feeling the hard liquor go down his throat. he can't savour the warmth of it before he chokes on it, covering his mouth and his embarrassed expression behind the back of his hand. he turns the bottle and looks at the label with a displeased look, like it's the bottle's fault.

"you don't like it?"

your tone is not mocking but he feels heat prickle underneath his skin. his eyes rest over you. calm, nonchalant. are you drunk? no, you might just be a bit weird. a bit fucked up he think as he feels the remains of the after taste burn at the bottom of his throat.

"I can handle it" he says, and he might not be talking about the liquor anymore.

he takes another purposeful, loud gulp while keeping his eyes lazily fixed on yours as if proving something he wasn't entirely sure you even cared for. he downs it without issue, ignoring the persistent burn of it and bitter taste on his tongue. it pisses him off when all you do is clap in an almost condescending way. it isn't though, you are genuinely shocked. and yet.

he has seen you before, he thinks. in the elevator, in the hall, maybe. he hadn't paid you any mind, busy as he always was. he had enough with hongjoong and wooyoung bickering at all times of day whenever the three of them would be home. you reach your hand, asking for it back. he feels the soft brush of your fingertips when he hands it back to you. he doens't know why, he wants to reach you. maybe is the nonchalant way in which you seem to pay him no mind at all, or the deplorable state of you: messy worn sleepwear that showed only your legs underneath a big shirt and gym shorts. he wonders it it was your boyfriend's, such a long shirt, on such a wrecked-looking girl. bare face and slightly tangled hair. he can feel the weight of a rough week on your shoulders without even having to ask. and yet, that apathy intrigued him.

he sees you take another long gulp, and he can't help but notice how your lips warp around the rim to down every drop, the way the column of your throat works to swallow it all. his tongue darts across his bottom lip when he thinks about how he just had his mouth around that same bottle, the same spot where you are sucking at, completely unaware at that. it bothers him.

"I'm Jongho" he says, with a light politeness that could fool anyone. it even fools you.

you put the bottle down and extend your hand to him, with a polite bow as you offer him your name. he can taste the alcohol laced on it, and he thinks he wouldn't mind drinking it straight from your lips. the thought shocks him. you are a mess. a crazy neighbour he should be telling the boys about tomorrow. instead his hand grabs around yours and he makes sure to grip it a bit strongtly, a small glimpse of his strength, of what he could do to you. you don't seem to care, or if you do it doens't show anywhere on your face nor body. jongho's eyebrow twitches with discontent at your indifference.

"do you always drink alone?"

you cock your head to the side, as if deep in though. his chest swells at the gesture, for some reason he doens't comprehend or doesn't want to think about. he can't think you are cute. not in your state, whatever it is. you are not drunk, you are just fucking odd.

"I am not drinking alone though" you say, pointing at him with your index finger.

jongho thinks it's fucking rude of you, but he says nothing. he's busy convincing himself that your attitude isn't doing anything to him. he doesn't miss the way you avoid the question.

"as we are meeting for the first time, I am assuming that's a 'yes'" he says slowly, making sure to enunciate every word, as if trying to quietly call out the way you are casually treating him even though you both just met.

he watches as your eyes get lost somewhere in the horizon.

"it helps me sleep" you say with a small smile.

"that's a bit of a worrying answer"

he does mean it, even if he can tell you are probably just messing with him. then he sees your smile shift, and he can tell that this one is genuine, your eyes soft in the soft light coming from inside your apartment.

"thank you" is all you say, and jongho feels like something inside of him just sunk deeply somehwere within him.

he hates it.

a loud voice breaks through the polite conversation.

"what are you doing here?"

wooyoung.

jongho cureses under his breath, body slightly turned away from his groupmate and eyes moving away from you. just what he needed.

"nothing, hyung. just resting"

he waits for wooyoung to notice you, his body frozen in place as he registers your presence. you extend the bottle to him.

"you want some?"

wooyoung looks at you, then at jongho before moving his hand to grab the bottle from you without so much as a second thought. jongho's hand grabs at his wrist, stopping him.

"is too strong for you, hyung. trust me"

wooyoung looks at his junior with an eyebrow raised.

"oh? are you drinking together? is this a drinking party?"

wooyoung's loud voice has managed to break the quiet, charged atmosphere that had settled between you two. he wonders if you've noticed it too. he watches as wooyoung leans towards your balcony, introducing himself with the effusive eagerness that wouldn't bother him usually. he stands behind him, eyes boring into yours as if to remind you he's here. you can feel it, really, burning hot through your already hot skin, but when your eyes settle on him he's looking away, muscle popping under the skin along the expanse of his jaw.

you excuse yourself, the buzzing tension brought by the new member of the party breaking though the calm you were seeking. you turn around, not without giving jongho a last, not so secret nod of acknowledgement. then it suddenly feels like it might not be enough.

"goodnight, Jongho"

he hears you loud and clear, the way you don't acknowledge the older man even louder. he allows himself to give you a small smile. he hates how you don't even wait to hear it back from him before you step inside, closing the door of the balcony behind you.

You didn't want to give Eunji hope that you and Jongho would ever be together again, but it was more realistic that you didn't want to give yourself that hope. It would only hurt everyone all over again. The feelings and circumstances were too complicated, all about pride and humility and "doing the right thing."

It honestly gave you a headache.

And some other parts of you were aching, too.

Curse that Jongho for giving you a taste of something he had no intention of giving you again.

On the flip side, Jongho was uncharacteristically rotting at his mom's house. Being at his apartment was too depressing and lonely when Eunji was at your place. And even though his mother was still treating him like a homeless bum squatting in her house for what he'd done to you, it was at least better than being alone.

It was a self-inflicted loneliness, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.

Honestly, he felt like a teenager. Back in his old bedroom, staring at the ceiling as he imagined all the ways he wanted to be with you like a lovestruck, hormone pumped, pubescent kid.

It wasn't like he could go back to the company either. He was forced to be on hiatus until the online backlash died down or until he could get his shit together and come up with a statement that could resolve his sins in the eyes of Atiny.

He was seriously scum to a lot of them now.

Honestly, even if you came out and publicly stated that you forgave him, he didn't think anyone would believe you. Who could forgive what I did?

He sighed, turning in his bed and closing his eyes. Yeah. This was his fault. He deserved this. He deserved to be alone.

His mom peeked into his room when she had called him three times and he hadn't come down. His breathing was heavy, he wasn't sleeping.

Then she heard him choke on a breath.

"Oh, my son," she sighed. Jongho didn't say anything as his mother came over to sit by him. She had been upset with him since your last visit, but she hadn't considered how upset he truly must have been with himself.

Jongho had never loved anyone but you, after all.

He wasn't one for affection, but the moment he felt his mom's hand slowly stroking his back, he squeezed his eyes tighter, really feeling like a kid again as he tried his best to cry as quietly as possible.

Maybe he was right that they shouldn't be together, but how could being right feel so wrong?

The next time you saw Jongho was before school started for Eunji. You hadn't talked about it, purposely not sending her to hang out with her friends or do extra-curriculars in the summer while the whole drama was going on online. The excuse was that they wanted her to spend more time with you to make up for the past years.

But now that school was right around the corner, you both had to suck it up and talk.

Jongho appeared at your door to pick up Eunji who groaned at the sight of him.

"I don't wanna go home with you!" she complained and Jongho chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, I'll tell halmoni to throw the kimchi jjigae in the garbage," he said with a shrug and her head whipped around, eyes wide as her mouth watered at the thought.

"Sorry eomma, I have to go back," she said matter of factly, running to her new room (you had converted the guest room), to get her things.

You smiled at her as Jongho came to stand next to you.

He didn't dare touch you.

"We should talk about what we're going to do for her school."

Your heart twisted. "You're really comfortable with sharing input on that decision? You've been doing it alone for so long."

"I am," he said simply, creating an obvious distance between the two of you. He wanted to pour out his words of praise and self-loathing about how he should have been doing it with you this whole time and it felt more right to make decisions with you than without you, but what would that achieve?

Being friendly led to problems more complicated than just co-parenting. Being civil was the only option.

You pressed your lips together and nodded, "You can sit."

Jongho sat on the couch across from you and you let out a breath.

"Were you thinking of anything particular that you wanted to do?" Jongho asked, "About Eunji's school."

"I don't want her to know about anything that's happened, not even the slightest chance of it," you said, very firm in your words, "But Eunji is so social and energetic... I don't think taking her out of school would benefit her..."

Jongho was surprised, adding his two cents, "I was actually considering the home-school route. Mingi's wife homeschooled Jiyeon her whole life."

"I know, but... I wouldn't know where to start with doing it myself, regardless."

"No, I would never expect you to change your life to that extend, y/n," Jongho said, shaking his head, "I brought it up to Mingi and he said that she was dying to take on another student and feel like she was in a classroom again."

"Oh," you said, thoughtfully.

"You know about Minjun, right?" Jongho asked, and you smiled fondly.

"Yes," you hummed. "Eunji wouldn't be alone if they're doing school together, and she'll have Jiyeon around, too."

"I don't know," you sighed, "I still wouldn't want to burden them. I'm sure they won't feel burdened, but... I still don't think it's enough for Eunji."

Jongho sighed. It was a complicated situation. Eunji was way too outgoing to be homeschooled. She'd likely get bored easily and take it out on poor Minjun.

"If we send her to school, she's guaranteed to hear something," you said softly, biting your nails. Jongho wanted to take your hand away from your mouth, but he couldn't cross the boundaries that he'd set up in the first place. Damn, being civil is so hard.

He had half a mind just to tell Eunji about his sins so you wouldn't have stress over it, but he knew Eunji would probably never forgive him if she knew the true result of his mistakes.

But she'd find out one day. He still didn't know how he'd managed to keep it from her so far. Maybe she didn't want to know. Maybe she wanted to love both of her parents without worrying, even if they weren't together.

"We don't- We don't have to decide right now if it's stressing you out. How about... how about we do a trial run?" he said.

You looked at him unsurely and he could help but smile at you reassuringly. "We'll do a year or less of time with Eunji doing homeschool, and if she doesn't respond well to it, we can always re-enroll her."

"That's true," you said thoughtfully.

"Okay, I'm ready!" You were taken out of your thoughts by Eunji who came back in the living room.

"Look, appa, eomma got me cool science pins," she said, flaunting her backpack at her father.

"Woah," Jongho said in awe, "Those are so cool."

"My friends are going to be so jealous when I see them," Eunji giggled snarkily, and you and Jongho both looked at each other unsurely.

Eunji picked up on it immediately and scoffed.

"You guys are always weird when you're here!" she exclaimed, "What is it now?"

You and your ex-husband had a silent conversation with your eyes.

Do you want to tell her? No, way, she hates me enough. You're the one who had it all planned out. Yeah, but you're the one who doesn't want her to find out.

You sucked in a pissed breath through your nose and Jongho grinned triumphantly.

"Eunji... can I ask you something?" you said tentatively. She side-eyed you. The insecure little girl inside of her worried that you were thinking about leaving again. She didn't like it when you were serious. But she took what you said seriously. You were never going to leave again.

So she nodded, "What is it?"

"You know that appa is a singer, right?" you asked, and she nodded. "Duh."

You chuckled, "And you know he's famous?"

"Yeah," she said, tilting her head, "Well, there are some things happening with the the company right now, and me and appa were thinking that maybe you should wait a little bit to go back to school."

Eunji furrowed her brows and looked at you confused. "What does that mean? Like... more summer holidays?"

"Well, no," You explained, "You'd still be learning, but-"

"Oh, okay," she said with relief, "My friends are annoying anyway. They're always trying to talk to me in class while I'm listening and then I get in trouble!"

"So annoying!" Jongho agreed enthusiastically and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"So you'd be okay if you were homeschooled?" You asked her and she shrugged, "Yeah. I don't care."

"You are too easy going," You huffed, "And here I was worrying for nothing. I thought you were going to be mad!"

"I go to school to be smart, not for friends. I can have friends at soccer camp," she said with a shrug.

"That's my girl. Brains before besties," Jongho said with a proud nod and she looked at him disgusted.

"That was so cringe, appa." He only chuckled.

"So you promise you're okay with it?" you asked her, "If you hate it, we can always put you back in school."

"Yeah! I can hang out with Minjun," she said, shrugging, and she nodded, "He's cool."

"Okay," you breathed out, "He's nice? You like him?"

"Yeah. He's nice, eomma. You should meet him, too," Eunji said, patting your arm suspiciously reassuring for a 9 year old girl.

"Then that's what we'll do then. We can talk to your friends' parents to set up playdates if you want to," you said, but she shrugged, "Okay." It didn't seem that she cared all that much.

You pulled her in and bombarded her with a barrage of kisses, making her giggle as she tried to push you away. "I'm gonna miss you," you admitted to her, "I love you."

"I love you, too, eomma. I'll come back soon!" she exclaimed. You pressed a few more kisses to her cheeks and Jongho wondered how things had changed so much.

Aside from recently, he couldn't really remember the last time the thought of Eunji had brought you joy. Once upon a time, you didn't even want to be Eunji's mother, so deep in your simultaneous self-deprecation and self-preservation that you found it best to just remove yourself for the greater good.

Did you know that you had been depriving yourself of this love? Did you know that you were depriving Eunji of it?

More importantly, did he knew that he'd deprive you both when he decided to leave you that day? Of course he didn't. So of course you didn't. There were no correct answers.

There were no correct answers.

The drive home was silent as he thought about it. Eunji, once upon a time, would fill up the space with her chatter, but now that she'd lost hope, for the most part, that her parents would ever get along, she opted not to talk about you to Jongho and vice versa. She'd come to that conclusion all on her own, not wanting to rock the boat anymore.

So even if her father hurt her mother, at least they were separated so they wouldn't have to hurt each other anymore.

It made her sad to think she'd never get the fairytale love story between her parents like the movies and some of her friends portrayed, but she was at least happy that she had both parents now, instead of just one.

Jongho had minimal contact with you in the next few weeks, and you wondered if he'd finally accepted that you two were nothing but co-parents with no feelings attached. He'd seemed pretty civil when he'd come to the apartment to talk about Eunji's school, almost as if you were a female staff member that he was just collaborating on a project with.

You didn't know how to feel about it. Obviously you loved him, despite everything, and even if he thought it was best you weren't together, you thought he'd at least want to be someone close to you to make up for all the lost time. Or maybe that was just your wishful thinking. Why would he make up for the lost time he threw away himself in the first place.

You huffed at the thought as you knocked on Mingi's door. Eunji was going to do a test run with Minjun and his mother to see if they were a good fit academically.

You hadn't seen your friend in a long time. Any of them, Jongho's members' wives, really. Once upon a time, you'd been almost closer to them than you were to your own members who long lost contact with you in order to preserve their image, ultimately disbanding after realizing that you were the person who kept them together in the first place.

You didn't like to think back on your idol days, too much. It felt like a dream that were forcibly woken up from, leaving an intense fatigue in its wake. Your idol life, your members, it was all something you would never be able to get back, even if you wanted to. They moved on, you moved on, and you'd been given a found family in Jongho and his members.

Another family that had been forcibly ripped away from you.

But now that you were back, you wondered if they still thought of you fondly. You wondered if the woman you'd met so long ago as Jiyeon's nanny would regard you with warmth when she saw you or if she would consider you as someone who was unstable, someone who abandoned Eunji.

Eunji noticed your racing thoughts on your face. She didn't know what to do, much like her father, so she simply hugged your waste and leaned her head on your hip, making you look down at her.

You patted her head with a warm smile. You wondered that even if they did think all those terrible things about you that you assumed they might, Eunji's sincere love was all that you needed, and maybe they'd see that too.

But all your worries were quelled when the door opened and the now Mrs. Song opened the door to find you standing there.

She looked at you for a moment, blinking once, then twice, before a full blown smile stretched across her face and she pulled you in for a hug.

You didn't have many female friends. You didn't have any male friends either, of course, but feminine friendship was something you didn't' realize you had missed so dearly, trumped by how much you'd been missing Jongho.

You wrapped your arms around her, tight as if you two were childhood friends having a reunion after twenty years, when really it had only been 11 years since you met and 9 since you'd seen each other. Still a significant amount of time, but you didn't realize how much love you'd had outside of Jongho, too, at the time.

She pulled away to look at you properly, her hands finding your cheeks as she breathed out.

"I can't believe you're real. You're actually here, y/n!"

"I am," you said softly, "It's been a long time."

"And I hate you for that," she pouted, "I know Jongho's the worst, but I loved you, too, you know."

You gaped, and she couldn't help but laugh, "Come inside!"

You'd forgotten how forthcoming she could be, and memories flooded back as you remembered Jongho telling you about how they ended up together as it was actively happening. You witnessed the love that created Minjun in real time.

You were once a part of this group, but your mental health had declined so rapidly that you didn't even consider them when you and Jongho separated all that time ago.

"Wow," you breathed out as she handed you a mug of hot tea. Your eyes widened at the familiar smell of spices and you looked at her in awe.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" she chuckled, "Since you'd had a hot cup of my special recipe?"

"So long," You breathed, pouting with genuine sadness.

"JUNNIE!" she suddenly yelled very loudly, "COME MEET EUNJI'S MOM!"

You heard the sound of hasty steps coming down to see you and you couldn't help but look at the little boy who appeared in awe.

"Woah!" you laughed, feeling as if a part of your heart that had unknowingly been dislocated all this time suddenly snap back into place.

"Hi!" he said cutely and you reached yoru hands out hesitantly, looking at his mother for quick permission that she granted before your fingers found his cheeks, pinching them. "Oh my gosh, you look just like Mingi-ssi."

He yelled in despair, "NOOOOO, I want to look like mom!"

Said mother smacked him gently in the head making Eunji laugh at him tauntingly, causing him to glare at her. You raised your eyebrow inquisitively at your friend and she chuckled, "They're frenemies. It's all harmless."

"Okay," You hummed, "Are you sure you're okay with teaching Eunji? I don't want to burden you."

"Of course not, y/n. Never," she said, sitting next to you and placing her hand firmly over yours, "Besides, Jiyeon was partially responsible for the reason she needs to stay home in the first place, so consider it Mingi and my apology."

"Now that is something you shouldn't feel even a little bad about. I'm happy that Eunji trusts Jiyeon that much, but I'm equally as happy that Jiyeon had the emotional intelligence not to tell her. You have an incredible daughter," you sighed thoughtfully.

"Thank you," she said, nudging you with your shoulder, "So do you."

"I had no part in that," you chuckled morbidly, "She's perfect all on her own."

"Hey," she tutted, "Whether you were there or not, she still has your traits. You still created her and that's incredible, too. Okay? Don't let whatever you're telling yourself convince you that you did not contribute at all to the brilliance of that little girl."

There was an easy about being here in the company of another woman, another mom, a friend that for some reason didn't make you want to cry. Instead you looked at her, an almost teasing smile on your face as you said, "How are you so good with words?"

"I'm a teacher," she replied and you let out a breath of relief, "I don't think Eunji will be any more eloquent than that if she has anyone but you teaching her. I still feel bad though."

"What will convince you otherwise?" she asked, rubbing your arm, "They're friends, I love teaching, Eunji is, I'm assuming, okay with the transition so far?"

"Yeah," you sighed, "I just don't like that I'm changing her life so drastically after finally being with her after so long. I don't want her to think that things will never feel normal again because I came in and bulldozed back into her life..."

"Do you know what is supposed to be her normal?" she suddenly asked. And you looked at her questioningly, "Her normal is supposed to be having two loving parents in her life in whatever way that looks like. I know she treated you horribly in the past, but all she has wanted in the last 9 years was to have you back. She's like Jongho in that stubborn nature of hers, but she came around, didn't she?"

You hummed thoughtfully in confirmation.

"I think she knew her life would change the moment you came back into her life, and I don't think she wants it any other way."

You pondered it for a moment, not thinking that Eunji could have such complex thoughts at such a young age, but then you remembered how she must have had to grow up a little quicker, not having a mother, you, around. That on top of being Jongho's daughter, a man who prided himself, maybe a little too much, on his intelligence.

"You're right," you said, breathing out a sigh of relief. She giggled victoriously, "I know."

"Okay, so," she said, standing up, "Let me walk you through the curriculum and see where Eunji is at."

You stood up with her and proceeded to do just that with them.

Being with Jongho, be it before or after he left you, always felt heavy. There was a depth to your relationship with him that never let you felt so easygoing as you did when you were with your friends. Sure, you'd only met her through Jongho, but that didn't change anything for you.

This was the community that you needed when you didn't have Jongho to rely on anymore.

And by the end of the day you felt that maybe not being with Jongho as he was back in your life wouldn't be such a bad thing if you could have this again. As long as you could be civil with him, you could have this again... and for the first time, you felt content without your ex-husband.

That was the first time you'd acknowledged him as your ex in a conscious way.