#dont take back a cheater irl!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Text

mingi x reader x wooyoung

word count: 25k

angst, smut

(part 1)

even before your relationship with wooyoung ended the way it did, you always wondered what drove people to cheat? did they just never care from the start, basing the relationship off lies and fake smiles, or did something happen down the line?

were there problems that only one person could see and didn’t feel comfortable enough talking about to the other? did they feel neglected or unloved, like they needed to seek out that affection and validation elsewhere?

or did they really just have no regard for another person, selfishly occupied with their own pleasures and needs while realizing, maybe, they didn’t care if they hurt the person or not.

if you asked your ex-boyfriend, he’d say it was none of the above - he’d say that it simply just happened.

that one second, he was in love with you and the next, he somehow found himself in a whirlwind of kisses and touches behind closed doors with someone who wasn’t you.

that while he knew it was wrong and unfair to you, a part of him felt like he couldn’t stop. like he could keep up this affair of being a sweet, loving boyfriend but also someone another person found desirable and attractive.

enjoyed the rush and thrill of doing something forbidden, even though it felt wrong.

but of course, he didn’t tell you any of this; you hadn’t talked to him since he cried outside of his dorm building begging you for another chance.

the same way you cried on the whole ride home and into your pillow that night, the night after that, and the night after that for about two whole months.

you can even admit, looking back at it now, eight months later, that you handled the breakup in a very cliche way: crying into a box of chocolates in bed and swearing that love didn’t exist. it was sad to you then, to believe so young that what you once felt was the best feeling in the world didn’t exist.

but the more time went on, the more you saw maybe you’d jumped the gun on that.

because just a few short weeks after the breakup, blocking wooyoung on every form of social media and telling your parents to never allow him in the house, you heard a knock at your door.

you approached it warily, eyeing the spray bottle on the counter and debating on arming yourself with that, before you saw a tall, familiar head through the glass window that definitely wasn’t your ex’s.

“how do you know where i live?” was the first question out of your mouth, not being able to keep the bite out of your tone or annoyance from crossing your face at mingi’s dejected form in front of you.

he had tried to talk to you the first few days after the incident, begging you to just hear him out and insist he never wanted you to feel stupid or in the dark; but that’s exactly how you felt.

how could you not, after knowing everyone in wooyoung’s life knew about him and lisa except you? everyone who saw you and him together, looked you in the face and smiled at you two together, while also being fully aware of what him and another girl were doing.

“nice to see you too,” mingi said, his hand toying at the back of his hair nervously, an awkward smile creeping up on his face as he tries to lighten the tense mood.

but you’re only a few weeks out of the gate of being cheated on and humiliated, the boy in front of you harboring that information until it all blew it up in your face in the most upsetting way; so you can only roll your eyes and slam the door in his.

or at least attempt to, before his foot slips through the open space and halts it.

“y/n, wait-”

“no, mingi. i have nothing else to say to you.”

“i know and i don’t blame you,” the boy says, his soft, kind voice a stark contrast to his large, looming appearance. “but you deserve an apology. just give me ten minutes to try and explain.”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you look up at mingi, annoyance flooding through your veins as you’re tempted to tell him to go fuck himself. that no explanation is gonna excuse him harboring that knowledge for months.

and he must know it too, because his face twists into one of remorse as he mutters a quietly spoken “please.”

and a small part of you knows he’s not the one who deserves this harsh reaction. he’s not the one who cheated and betrayed your trust; he had some allegiance to you, sure, being that he was your friend, but not as much as wooyoung did.

he didn’t promise to love you and assure you there was nothing to worry about that. that he only had eyes for you and wouldn’t even think about betraying your trust or affections. he didn’t look you in the face and promise he’d never hurt you because he loved you more than anyone.

and even so, he looks almost as pathetic and desperate as your ex did when he was begging you for a second chance.

“five,” you snap shortly, backing away from the door and watching as mingi’s eyes light up in surprise.

he gives you a small smile that would usually soften your heart but only proves to make you raise an eyebrow, leading him to the living room where he fills you in on the truth about the past six months.

how when they first kissed at a random party, wooyoung was shitfaced and didn’t even remember the next morning; it was lisa showing him a picture her friend had snapped in the span of a few seconds that reminded him, guilt flooding through him as he told the girl that could never happen again.

but it did end up happening again. when wooyoung wasn’t shitfaced and lisa was there in his dorm alone.

“he said that lisa was crying, something about feeling alone and upset, because all her friends had boyfriend’s and she felt like a single loser,” mingi says, remembering how down and confused his roommate was the next day when he came home. “and then before he knew what happened, she leaned in and kissed him and he...”

mingi looks up to gauge your reaction and sees you’re just watching him blankly, cold, emotionless eyes that don’t give away the fact hearing this is making you wanna cry and scream all over again.

“he was conflicted,” is what mingi decides on saying.

“not conflicted enough though,” you say, a mix of sadness and humor in your tone as you shake your head. “they were still fucking for two months after that.”

“they never fucked,” mingi is quick to clarify.

you raise your eyebrow and he nods his head as if to say it’s really true, your teeth sinking into your cheek again.

“they kissed and did...other shit,” mingi says, not thinking you wanna hear that wooyoung accepted far too many blowjobs from the girl. “but they never fucked. he said he...couldn’t.”

“wow. what a guy.”

you can’t even try to keep the dryness out of your tone and it causes mingi to press his lips together so he doesn’t smirk, instead looking over your face and frowning when he notices your eyes are puffy.

“i didn’t say that so you take him back or anything,” mingi says quietly, “i just... he told me all of this and i said he had to stop. that it wasn’t fair to you, even if it was just kissing and blowjobs.”

you wince upon hearing it put so harshly, mingi cringing as he realizes he let the details slip out.

“sorry,” he mumbles, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head.

“it doesn’t matter. i’m over it.”

mingi’s eyebrow raises as he looks over your face again, not commenting on the puffiness under your eyes or the fact your hands are pressing into one another anxiously.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you,” he says after a few silent moments, his voice laced with such sadness and sympathy you can’t help but meet his gaze.

“i told him so many times to cut the shit, that it wasn’t fair and i was gonna tell you. but, really, a part of me felt like it wasn’t my place and i...i really just didn’t wanna make you sad,” he says, his voice and eyes honest and sweet even though you find his words incredibly stupid.

“i know that’s so stupid,” the boy acknowledges, a dry, humorless tone in his voice. “but i almost...wanted him to get caught, you know? so you saw it firsthand and realized, like, your worth, i guess. even though seeing that would’ve made you sad too, so i... i guess i really just don’t fucking know. i didn’t know what to do.”

and you don’t know if it’s because of his rambling or the absurdity of the situation but you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, air leaving your nose that has mingi looking at you in surprise.

“you’re right,” you say a smile quirking at your lips that has mingi looking over your face carefully. “that is stupid.”

“but it’s also stupid to be mad at you, i guess,” you say when he looks down in embarrassment, emphasizing your last two words sarcastically as you sit back on the couch and look him over. “wooyoung was the one who was supposed to be loyal to me, not you.”

“but kind of me, too,” mingi says softly, his arm reaching out to pluck a piece a hair off your shoulder absentmindley. his touch is gentle and warm and his long fingers linger on your skin, the move shocking you as much as it comforts you.

mingi had been touchy and affectionate after just a few weeks of you knowing him, one to pull someone in for a hug or wrap an arm around their shoulder opposed to a stiff, clammy handshake. it was something you liked about him immediately, how warm and innocently affectionate he was.

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch his fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses mingi’s face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

you’ve never seen a smile as big as the one that crosses mingi’s face after you say that, his arm reaching out and pulling you into him; the boy really does underestimate his size and strength, though, dragging you right across the couch and straight into his hard body where he begins to stammer out more apologies.

“tell you what,” you say, craning your neck to look up at him. “the next time some asshole’s cheating on me, just tell me right away and i’ll accept these 200 apologies from you, yeah?”

“there’s not gonna be a next time,” mingi promises, his familiar scent and loud, happy voice bouncing off your living room walls. “because i’ll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you again.”

you roll your eyes as you push him over on the couch, letting out one of your first genuine giggles in weeks as you watch him flop on the cushions like a fish out of water.

and you really think mingi’s what you got through the months that followed that conversation.

because if he wasn’t driving down every few weekends to hang out, you were texting and facetiming almost every hour of the day.

he helped you through the rest of your senior year, when senioritis hit it’s peak and you all but refused to do any homework or projects. he was the first person you called when you needed motivation (or distractions), talking into the wee hours of the morning or falling asleep on facetime together.

he was also the first person you called when college acceptance letters came in, his deep, happy voice expressing how he knew you were gonna get in.

“and you’re gonna go to the one only thirty minutes away from me, yeah?” he asked playfully, your eyes rolling as you plopped down on your bed.

“yeah, right,” you giggle out, looking over the three pamphlets as you, really, try to consider how to even begin the process of choosing.

that’s another thing mingi ended up helping you with, weighing the pros and cons of each school with you and even suggesting you drive up to him so you can tour the college close to his.

you don’t know for sure but maybe that’s why you ended up accepting that offer, after seeing the beautiful campus in person, the friendly students and ‘spacious’ dorm rooms that looked a whole lot better than two out of state schools you’d have to wait until the summer to see.

but if you asked mingi, he’d say it was absolutely because of him - because now you could see him every day. now he could easily help move you in and bring you lunch and show you the spots off campus where they never check ids or question a bad fake.

and while all of those were certainly helpful, you especially liked that, when classes started up and nearly knocked you on your ass, mingi was there to help you some more.

“you said professors were nice!” you squealed, hitting him in the arm as you two walked into a coffee shop smack in the middle of your two colleges; it’s also the coffee shop you waited pathetically in this past valentine’s day, but you try to let that painful memory slip your mind.

“hey! i’m sorry, most of them are!” mingi defends, his eyes widening and a laugh nearly bursting from his mouth when he sees the five syllabuses you throw onto the table.

“oh? then what is this?”

and sure enough, almost every class lists required textbooks costing over $150, several papers throughout the year, and a strict two-absence policy that will result in a whole letter grade drop if broken.

“and then if we miss because of a death in the family, we have to bring proof! what kind of sick shit is that?” you squeak, arms flying and eyes nearly bulging out of your head; if you were already this fucked after only a week of classes, you don’t even wanna know how you’re gonna be when real work starts.

mingi takes a hold of your arms to stop your flailing, his large, warm hands seeping through the sleeves of your shirt causing you to look up at him.

“babe...you gotta calm down.”

you don’t remember when he started dropping little pet names like that, or when his touches got more frequent and lingered, but you only know it’s something you guys don’t comment on. how, sometimes, both of you can even hear the others fastened heartbeat if you’re close enough or will meet gazes before shyly looking away.

you look up at him with a pout, the teasing smirk on his handsome face making you wanna stomp on his foot.

“i don’t wanna take a picture with my grandma’s corpse,” you whine, knowing that if anyone were watching you both right now, they’d think you were nuts.

“and you won’t have to,” mingi says, an inappropriate laugh bubbling from his mouth that causes you to smack his arm roughly. “why are you hitting me!” he yelps, a soft, amused smile on his face. “i’m trying to help you.”

and because you’re whining and he’s laughing, amused eyes locked on one another while his hands run up and down your arms soothingly, you both miss the fact that someone was around to see you both.

someone watching with hard eyes and a sinking heart at hearing your familiar laugh, at seeing your eyes twinged with amusement and happiness looking at someone who isn’t him.

but he knows he doesn’t deserve to see that anymore. that he ruined that chance with you and he shouldn’t even be surprised that you were able to move on to someone better.

even if that someone was his friend, a fact that’s making his blood boil right about now.

“you good?”

yeosang’s voice pierces wooyoung’s ears the second they leave the coffee shop, a knowing look on the boy’s face as the other can only shrug.

“yeah,” wooyoung says quietly, looking back through the window to see you dragging mingi to the counter by the hand.

your touches look comfortable and familiar, like you’d spent weeks, or even months, growing closer to one another; he knows that it takes you a while to warm up to people, only letting a select few in - which now probably worsened after the shit he did.

with that knowledge, he also knows that it doesn’t even matter if he wasn’t good (which he’s not, he feels it in the way his chest is aching and veins are burning) because he knew it was a mistake.

he knew sneaking around and lying to you was leading him down a path that would cost him the best thing that ever happened to him. he was the one suffering without you while you’re, apparently, able to move on.

and evidently, he’s also the one whose always been selfish - hoping that there’s a way you’ll somehow forgive him and see that, even though he wronged you, a part of him still wants you.

and he always gets what he wants.

“y/n, c’mon pleaseeee.”

it’s the eighth time mingi whined that sentence to you over the phone this week, a sigh leaving your mouth as you smack your hands onto your comforter.

“mingi, i’ve said the same thing for the past four days! what makes you think my answer’s gonna be any different tonight?”

the first month of school had, admittedly, kicked your ass.

it wasn’t even that the work was challenging or daunting, you liked what you were learning and you even made a few friends in your classes, but it just feels like you’ve never gotten a moment to yourself since this all started.

if you’re not surrounded by classmates or your roommate, you’re working at the coffee shop you and mingi frequented so much, they offered you a job. but with your roommate gone this weekend and you not on the work schedule till sunday evening, you intended to spend the next two days in bed.

catching up on shows, taking naps in between, taking some time to catch up on reading - you were only gonna move when your bladder and stomach begged you to, not a tall, whiney man.

“because i’m begging,” mingi sighs, knowing with 100% certainty you’re already curled up in bed with your laptop in front of you. “how many fucking times are you gonna rewatch love alarm?”

your mouth drops open as your eyes fall to the screen, jojo and sun-oh’s faces staring back at yours causing your cheeks to flush; how the hell did he know that first of all?

“until season two comes out,” you whine back, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth before he sighs. you roll your eyes at the sound, pushing yourself to your feet to grab water from the mini fridge. “if you wanna hang out so bad, come over tonight and watch with me.”

“you know i would but i already told people i was coming,” he explains, a pout on his face he wishes you could see in an effort to persuade you (even though you’d probably just curl your lip in disgust).

“then have fun and enjoy! i’ll be watching sun-oh whisk jojo away and-”

“i know why you don’t wanna go.”

the words die in your throat just as you hear him say that, his voice low and sympathetic that has you poking your tongue into your cheek; he only uses that voice when he thinks you’re about to be upset by something.

and it’s not hard for you to gather what he’s thinking, given that he wants you to go to your ex-boyfriend’s campus party.

“if you’re thinking what i think you’re thinking, then you’re wrong.”

because if he has this notion that you don’t wanna run into wooyoung, then yes, he’s wrong. sure, you don’t wanna particularly see him, but it’s been months. you’re over him and you know he’s over you, there’d be no reason to alter your life in hopes to avoid him.

“what do you think i’m thinking?”

“we’re not doing this, mingi,” you groan, pushing yourself away from the counter and heading right toward your warm bed. “i’m not going for no other reason than i wanna stay in my bed for the next two days. you can come over after if you want but i’m not setting foot in that disgusting frat house. have fun and don’t drink too much!”

and with that, you hang up and crawl under the blankets with a content smile on your face.

one that drops when you hear a knock on your door thirty minutes later, already knowing by the distinct pattern that it’s no other than the boy you hung up at the start of your episode.

“that was a quick party,” you say when you open the door, leaning against the frame as you stare at mingi with a raised eyebrow.

he looks the same way he did during the conversation that rekindled your friendship, his hand toying at the back of his hair and a nervous smile on his face.

“yeah...” he laughs out awkwardly, the stare he’s giving you causing you to shake your head immediately.

“you didn’t go, did you?”

“no. i wanted to pick you up first.”

he sees fury cross your face and your arm reaching out to smack him, his hand quickly catching it and pulling you into him.

“c’monnn, we’ll only stay for an hour. and then we’ll come back here and finish love alarm for the 700th time.”

your eyebrows narrow at you stare up at the boy, so annoyed at him ruining your night you don’t even realize how close your bodies are pressed up against one another. his hard, toned chest against yours that would, without a doubt, make you flush if you realized.

“please,” he whines, a pout on his face as he tightens his hold on you. “i don’t wanna go alone, i told them i was bringing a friend. and i miss you. we haven’t seen each other in a few days and-

“just shut up,” you growl, pulling him in your room by his shirt because you just know he’s fucking relentless. you close your laptop begrudgingly, throwing him a dirty look before you go to the closet to change out of your sweatpants.

“you should wear the jeans with the-”

the look you throw his way immediately causes him to stop talking, a smirk crossing your face as you turn away and curse him out in your head for looking so handsome, maybe you couldn’t resist walking in with him tonight.

but you also couldn’t resist the way your eyes roamed the crowded frat house forty minutes later, the familiar scent of alcohol and sweat invading your senses.

there’s just as many people as last year when you came, a sticky cluster of bodies that is all too off putting when you were just bound to your bed in pajamas and fuzzy socks.

you’re also all too aware of the setting that’s giving you flashbacks, beer pong tables and what seems like dozens of pretty girls with dark hair littering the house - it’s making you far more uncomfortable than you care to admit.

“y/n,” you hear a voice say, your neck turning toward the male presence. it takes you a few seconds to remember who he is, attractive features you remember thinking were so regal causing you to smile politely.

“you should tell him it bothers you,” you hear yeosang say, looking over at the boy with a wide eyed gaze. he says it so straight forwardly that it causes you to grow nervous, biting your lip before you open your mouth to speak.

“what?”

he raises his eyebrow and you know he’s seeing through your lie. the lie that you’re not all bothered by being here and watching him play with another girl. a girl you’re almost positive has ill-intentions. and now you see where yeosang’s bluntness comes in.

“that him and lisa make you uncomfortable,” yeosang tells you, looking over and seeing them smile at one another in victory. “because you’re worried, aren’t you?”

it’s the first time it’s been verbalized and it makes your stomach squeeze painfully, sadness and anger and disappointment flooding through you.

“should i be?” you squeak, since you know he sees you them a lot more than you.

“i don’t know,” he says, the both of you looking over in time to see lisa smack wooyoung’s arm playfully as she throws her head back. “should you be?”

that was the first and only conversation you had with the boy and yet he hinted more to you than anyone else in your life at the time; granted it was still early in but he had obviously saw something, too.

maybe a suspicious glint in wooyoung’s eye, lingering over lisa despite your presence a few feet away. maybe he could tell you weren’t gonna be enough to keep him loyal, maybe he-

you shake your head of these thoughts, reminding yourself that you’re over this.

you’re over him and the way he made you feel and everything about the whole breakup entirely; why would you want someone who, when it came down to it, didn’t want you back?

“hi, yeosang,” you say with a sweet smile, mingi greeting the shorter boy before someone else pulls his attention away. you let out a sigh and roll your eyes, a deep chuckle leaving the boy who pats the seat next to him.

he’s not surprised to see you but he is surprised that you came here tonight, of all places. where he knows wooyoung is lingering and knows when he sees you, he’s gonna come over with sorrow in his eyes and a voice to match.

ever since the breakup, yeosang had been the one there for wooyoung. he knew what the boy was doing was wrong, and he felt bad for you, but he also knew wooyoung could do anything and he’d still be there for him.

he could disagree with him and find his actions and decisions questionable but in the end, he’d be there for him.

that’s why he saw and tended to the breakdown wooyoung went through after everything happened. watched the boy become a shell of the person he’d been, no longer happy and bubbly and, instead, drowning his sorrows with alcohol when he wasn’t doing the bare minimum for school.

yeosang had to tell him more often than not, with some tough love, that he had ruined everything between you two. and for him to wish that he could talk to you or get another chance was incredibly selfish.

but through all of that, he was there for him. would stop him from drinking himself into a coma or take him out of the house to distract him any chance he got.

especially because a few weeks after everything, mingi had started distancing himself. the boys had still lived together until the semester ended in may, but it’d been obvious the boy wasn’t as...tolerant of wooyoung as he was.

and now he sees why. with the way mingi’s soft eyes are looking at you from across the room, watching closely as you sit down next to him and send a polite smile his way.

“so what, you loved these parties so much you decided to come to school here?” yeosang smiles teasingly, a deep chuckle leaving him when your face turns into a grimace.

you tell him how you go to the school just a half hour away, how it was the only school you were able to tour in person and how, with sinking suspicions, that mingi played a big role in you coming here.

“my roommate is so nice though,” you share with him, a happy smile on your face as you tell him about the girl whose face piercings and dark makeup are a complete contrast to her sweet, soft-spoken personality; you remember thinking when you first met that she was gonna rip your head off, especially because you came in jabbering with an even more excitable mingi.

but she loved him and you immediately and as far as roommates went, you couldn’t be happier.

“and i work at a coffee shop now. i was a little thrown off the first few weeks but i think i’ve finally adjusted,” you giggle out, a small smirk on his face that you find far too endearing.

“that’s good,” yeosang says before he reluctantly adds, “i’ve seen you working there a few times.”

“oh?”

your eyebrows pull together as you cock your head to the side in confusion; you’d never seen him in there before. and you think you would’ve recognized him immediately, even outside of this sleazy frat house.

“yeah, the first week of classes we were there and saw you and mingi,” he says, “then i went back and saw you working behind the counter.”

you don’t comment on the we, because you have a good feeling about who he’s talking about, so you only nod and smile, telling him to say hi next time and you’ll give him a cookie on the house.

“i know she didn’t just offer you a free cookie,” mingi says, plopping down next to you and throwing his arm around you. “i ask all the time and she laughs in my face.”

“because you come in every day!” you squeal, smacking in the stomach lightly. “they’d go broke and i’d be fired.”

“you’re a grimy fuck to even ask,” yeosang says, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth at the look on mingi’s face. you listen to the boys bicker back and forth as your eyes roam the room, everything about the scene so familiar but also different.

you don’t feel uncomfortable or nervous for the same reasons you did a year ago, when the music was too loud and the scent was overwhelming and there were just too many people.

now you’re uncomfortable and nervous about just who’s lingering in this crowd, like you’re about to be met with something, or someone rather, that’s gonna hurt you.

even though you’ve convinced yourself that you’re okay and you won’t care. you won’t care in the slightest if you see lisa under wooyoung’s arm across the room, if you see now that those months really did mean something to them and they were able to prevail.

nope. it won’t bother you at all; in fact, you think two people like that probably deserve each other.

but your roaming eyes say otherwise. the nervous knot in the pit of your stomach and the way you press yourself closer to mingi (in a way he doesn’t comment on but welcomes) says if you see them together, you might lose your shit just a little bit.

“you good?” mingi asks lowly in your ear, his large hand falling onto your knee. you feel the warmth through your jeans and the indents of his rings against your leg, looking up at him with a forced, tight smile.

“i’d be better if i was in bed like i planned,” you say through clenched teeth, a deadly look in your eye that should make him fearful but just makes him laugh.

“oh, c’mon, aren’t you having fun? you got to see your old friend-”

“yeosang.”

and like the universe was showing mingi just how much fun it was allowing you to have tonight, a voice that makes your blood run cold finishes mingi’s sentence.

your eyes snap to the boy you haven’t seen in over eight months, a face that once made you so stupidly happy with his wide smile and sparkling eyes; you remember when you first met him, you were so confused by the look them.

why he looked at you so fondly and made your heart flutter even though it shouldn’t have been.

and that’s the exact feeling you’re getting right now, seeing the boy who, the last time you looked at him was crying and begging and desperate, look at you with glossed over eyes and not a hint of a smile.

“hey, woo,” yeosang says, noticing his friend’s lingering gaze and your obvious discomfort; he doesn’t think an atmosphere has ever gotten so tense so fast.

it takes him a second to stutter out the response “hi,” his eyes moving from yours to mingi’s hand on your leg before back to you. you can’t help the way you quirk an eyebrow at him, almost daring him to say something about mingi’s hands on you before he shakes it off and looks to yeosang.

you only listen to the boys speak as you look down at your feet, mingi’s arm tightening around you when you start to wiggle them. it’s a nervous habit he’s picked up on after these months of getting to know you and, apparently, he’s not the only one who remembers it.

“you do that every time i sit next to you.”

you peer up at the senior who’s insisted on spending lunch with you for the past three weeks, the ever-present teasing smile on his cocky face making your eyebrows pull together.

“do what?”

he nods his head down to the floor where you’re tapping away, toes wiggling in your shoes as the balls of your feet bounce up and down slightly.

your cheeks flush and you shrug your shoulders, not wanting him to know that, while you’re confused by his company, it doesn’t make you any less aware of how attractive he is. doesn’t make the stupid little crush you’ve developed on him any less intense or you any less nervous.

“oh,” you say quietly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks that makes his teasing smile widen.

“yeah, oh,” he mocks, his eyes lighting up with amusement you know it’s directed toward you. you narrow yours at him but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest, his foot hitting yours under the table playfully.

“it’s okay, i think i just make you a little nervous.”

“nervous?” you ask, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head. “why on earth would i be nervous?”

and with a playful cock of his head, a smile on his face that only grew softer and sweeter over time, he so boldly said “because you like me too, don’t you?”

you catch wooyoung looking at your feet and immediately stop bouncing them, putting your right sneaker over your left before looking up at mingi with a small smile.

“i’m gonna go get a drink.”

“i’ll come with-”

“it’s fine, it’s right there,” you say, nodding your head into the kitchen only a few feet away.

you leave before mingi can even respond, quickly getting up and scurrying away from the tense atmosphere you know is partially because of you. you need to just get away from all of that for a second, knowing that this was a possibility tonight but didn’t think it would happen so fast.

it’s easy to think you’re over something when you’re not presented directly with it but, now, seeing him makes all those masked feelings come to the surface.

how hurt and betrayed and upset you were by what he did. how you tried to convince yourself that you were over everything simply because you know you deserve better; and while you know that, it still doesn’t quell the memories.

doesn’t stop you from thinking about the nights before he went away to school, the two of you under the stars when he assured you he loved you and didn’t wanna break up with you. teased you for thinking he’d wanna break up with his high school girlfriend when he went off to college.

“i don’t wanna break up,” you whimpered against him, your hands fisting his grey sweatshirt as you hid your face in his neck. he pressed a kiss to your head, bringing a hand to your back as he rubbed up and down soothingly.

“who said anything about breaking up, my love?” he cooed, the term of endearment causing your stomach to swoop.

“i-i just assumed you wouldn’t wanna be with your high school girlfriend in college,” you say quietly against him. “it would make sense, i guess, so i can’t say i blame you but-”

he brings your face to his as he places a firm kiss on your lips, melting into you as he palms your cheek softly. you kiss him back immediately, feeling your heart break at the thought of never being able to do this again.

“i don’t know why you’re thinking like that,” he mumbles once he pulls back, running his hand through your hair before tucking the strands behind your ear. “but get those thoughts out of your head. i’m not breaking up with you, baby. in case you forgot, i just told you i loved you the other day.”

“i know but-”

“but what?” he asks with a smirk, pushing you down on your back and rubbing the stray tear off your cheek. “you think i just say shit to say it?”

“no, but-”

“then stop. i’ll tell everyone at college i have a high school girlfriend and they won’t have shit to say about it.”

it doesn’t stop you from remembering how much his voice and eyes used to calm you, how, in a setting like this, one look from him would completely put you at ease and make you feel better.

“y/n.”

you immediately grow tense at wooyoung’s voice saying your name, not having heard it fall from his lips in what felt like forever.

you’re debating whether you even wanna turn around and look at him again, knowing you can just go on your way and completely ignore him. knowing you should go on your way and completely ignore him.

but instead you turn to him and give him a blank look, waiting for him to say something else before you turn back and rummage through the cooler for a soda. your hand searches through the freezing ice for a red can of coke, the tips of your fingers growing numb as you fish through the water.

partially because you can’t find one and partially because you don’t wanna turn back around and face him.

“you drink now?”

your neck cranes up to look at wooyoung, his eyes soft and curious as he looks down at you. you hate how your body still responds to him, how he still looks so handsome but also like he lost a little bit of weight.

you hate how a part of you is concerned about that, wondering if he hasn’t been eating well or is doing drugs harder than pot.

“no,” is all you say shortly, deeming your efforts for a soda useless and shaking the wetness off your hand. your eyes fall to his empty ones and you raise an eyebrow, surprised not to see some sort of can of alcohol near him.

“i don’t really drink anymore,” he offers after a few silent seconds, your eyes raising to his before mingi’s voice plays in your mind - “wooyoung was so shitfaced the first time they kissed, he didn’t even remember. he didn’t know until lisa showed him a picture.”

“i didn’t really ask,” you say before you can stop yourself, his face falling before a sigh leaves his mouth.

“i guess i deserve that,” he mumbles lowly, your teeth sinking into your cheek before you turn to leave.

you begin to wonder why mingi and yeosang let him follow you in the first place before you feel a hand lightly touch the back of your arm, your neck snapping back and arm pulling away when he mutters your name pleadingly.

“how have you-”

“we’re not doing this.”

“i just wanna talk, y/n,” he says quietly, the sad desperation obvious in his tone. “i haven’t seen or talked to you in months.”

“and why is that, woo?”

you don’t even mean for the nickname to fall from your lips but it does, twists his stomach in a way that makes him feel even more shitty and defeated and guilty.

tears prick your eyes as you realize you haven’t said that name since febuary, his own softened gaze on you making you shake your head and take a step back.

“if we could just talk for a few-”

“we’re not doing this,” you repeat firmly, taking a step away from his looming presence. “i wasn’t even supposed to come tonight.”

“but you came with...mingi?” he asks lowly, like spitting the boy’s name out was the hardest thing he had to do in months.

but you bet what you had to do over these past few months was harder.

finish school while also dealing with the heartbreak that comes with being betrayed in such an awful way. building back up your confidence and worth and trying so hard to convince yourself you didn’t do anything wrong.

that’s why you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, holding back the slew of curse threatening to leave your mouth.

“yeah. i did,” you say confidently, your eyes roaming back to mingi to see him making his way over to you. “and i’m sure there’s someone waiting around here for you, too.”

you watch his face crumble and mouth open to speak but you’re quick to shake your head and walk to mingi, rage filling your chest when you feel wooyoung’s warm, strong hand grab you by the wrist.

“y/n, wait-”

“don’t touch me,” you spit out, ripping your arm away from him harshly.

you can see he regrets the movement the second you look at him but can’t find it in yourself to care, giving him one last look before walking over to mingi - his face, too, is apologetic but much more fearful than your ex’s.

“he said he was going over to-”

“love alarm. now. before i bash your head in and never agree to anything ever again.”

“we’ll pick up snacks,” he says, a hesitant, happy smile creeping up on his face despite your unwavering expression. “my treat.”

“no shit your treat,” you grumble, your hand snaking through mingi’s larger one as you pull him out of the frat house into the cool, fall air.

it’s the much needed crispness you need after the sweaty, tense air you were just subjected to, you and mingi hand in hand as you walk to his car parked a few blocks away.

there’s only a few moments of silence before he addresses the elephant in the room.

“did he say something to you?”

you look up to see mingi staring at you with a soft expression, a sigh leaving your mouth as you nod your head. he stops you both from walking, his hand moving to your hip as you two stand in the street.

there’s a soft glow on him cast from the street light, his eyes roaming your face making his heart pang in your chest. he can see your tense and upset right now, your lips rolling over one another like when you’re trying not to cry or scream.

“are you okay?” he asks softly, a question that would usually make you roll your eyes making your face soften; you know the boy has his faults, a little confused and naive and doesn’t always make the right choices, but he always means well.

he truly cares for people and doesn’t like seeing them sad.

“i’m okay,” you confirm with a small nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips. “i...it’s over now, you know. it’s different seeing him after all this time. harder than i thought, really, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

mingi nods his head as he squeezes your hip lightly, taking your hand back in his. they swing playfully in between your bodies, a touch that seems very juvenile and platonic filling you with a warmth you don’t think you should be feeling yet.

you told yourself to wait a year. you even heard somewhere that, for as long as you’ve been with someone in your younger years, you should try to be single for the same amount of time afterward.

take a moment to focus on yourself and ‘soul search’ for the things you want in life.

but having mingi by your side has made that goal harder, or maybe easier depending on how you look at it; especially because his touches linger and make you want more. his eyes watch you so softly and the smile that lights up his face when he first sees you makes you happier than you’ve been in a while.

“we’re not friends with her anymore.”

you don’t expect him to say that but it makes your eyes widen.

because for as long as you guys have discussed wooyoung and the situation, neither of you have ever addressed lisa directly. where she is now or if they remained friends - you told him a million times that you didn’t care.

and even after seeing wooyoung tonight, you want that to still ring true; but again, your actions don’t match your thoughts.

“oh?”

“yeah. a few weeks after that happened, woo refused to be in the same room as her. said it made him sick.”

a scornful laugh threatens to leave your mouth at that, since the last time you’d seen them together, their tongues were down each other’s throats and he was mostly definitely not sick by it.

“anytime we were with her and her friends, he’d leave and say he didn’t wanna be around her. then he just started to avoid us so we eventually just cut them all off. we didn’t really like them anyway, to be honest.”

it takes you a few moments to process his words but it proves to just be too much for your emotionally drained, distraught mind.

“why are you telling me this?”

mingi’s hand tightens ever so slightly on yours as you two continue to walk, his thumb rubbing against your cold skin as the silence remains.

you can only hear the gravel beneath your feet and the last few cicadas that can stand the crip fall weather, looking ahead in the darkness and wondering if he’s ever gonna answer you.

“because he’s waiting for you.”

your feet halt and you look up at him, eyes wide and shocked as he looks down at you. you can’t quite make out the expression on his face, maybe something like fear or hesitance that makes your heart lurch.

“he...told yeosang he wants you to forgive him. and to give him another chance.”

a little bit of every emotion rips through you at this knowledge, rage and annoyance and outrage but also a little bit of sadness you’re not ready to address.

“he’s got balls, i’ll give him that,” you mutter, a smirk quirking on mingi’s lips as he nods his head. he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, torn between his lasting bits of loyalty to wooyoung but his feelings for you.

because over these past few months, he’s wanted nothing more than to kiss you and hug you and make you see you can trust him - not only as a friend but a boyfriend.

a much better boyfriend than the one you had; but he understands you need a friend and he’s okay with that - more than okay, really. though the looks you give him make his heart pound just a little harder, like when you lean your head on his shoulder during a movie or play with his fingers until you fall asleep on his lap.

“but...i think there’s better people out there for me,” you say quietly, head cocked to the side as you start to toy with his long fingers. it’s flirty and daring and maybe a little vengeful after your conversation with wooyoung but you also know it’s genuine.

that the feelings you have for mingi and the way he makes your chest warm is very much so real.

“don’t you think?”

a smile lights up his face and he has to tell his heart to calm down before it explodes, a knowing glint in his eye as he looks over your face and nods his head.

“i do think,” he says, tapping you on the tip of your nose in a way that makes you giggle. you watch as he turns and bends down, a smile lighting up your face as you immediately move to jump on his back.

“now what snacks do you want for tonight, little one?”

the next three weekends you’re deemed safe from any college parties, either your shifts at the coffee shop or mingi’s school work keeping you free from his whining or incessant phone calls.

but the second you heard a knock on your door one saturday night, your movie on in the background and popcorn popping in the microwave, something tells you that you’re fucked. that you’ve steered clear of that sticky, overcrowded house for far too long, and it’s like the tall, handsome boy at your door has realized it.

“you’ve evaded me long enough.”

“sadly, i don’t agree,” you respond dryly, a smirk on the boy’s face as he lets himself in before you can close the door. you let out a groan as he helps himself to your freshly cooked bag of popcorn, throwing the pieces in his mouth as he tells you to get dressed.

“now why would i do that?” you ask, hands on your hips and a snippy tone already in your voice.

but it doesn’t deter mingi in the slightest; if anything, it almost eggs him on even more. his eyes squinting before he abandons the popcorn and charges toward you, large hands gripping your waist as he guides you to your closet and tells you to change.

the deep, commanding tone in his voice should make you angry. it should make you roll your eyes and tell him he’s not the boss of you. that you have no intentions of going out and he could either leave or stay for the movie.

but it’s the contrast of that and the sweet look in his eye that always gets you. how he can be tough and commanding but then cute and playful.

it’s always what gets that feeling of electric between you, his body looming over yours and eyes staring up at one another challengingly. a part of you always wants to tell him to fuck off but then know you wouldn’t be able to handle the sad, mildly pathetic look on his face.

“it’s halloween-themed. but no costumes,” he says, tightening his hold on you and toying with the ends of your white t-shirt. “so match with me.”

your hands travel to his broad shoulders, his muscles under your hands affecting you far more than you’re leading on. a part of you wants to feel just how warm and soft his skin is, trail your finger over his collarbone until he groans or warns you to watch it.

your nails dig into his back ever so slightly, your brow cocked and head turned to the side as you slowly start to step closer to him. his knees hit your bed frame just as you push him back, his butt plopping on your comforter as you stand in between his legs.

“no,” is all you say, a knowing smirk on your face as you watch his eyes flame with something like arousal and disbelief.

he shakes his head and watches you walk to your closet, throwing himself back on your bed with a silent groan and a plea that, tonight, you don’t push him too much.

but a few hours into the night, a few too many beers in mingi and your own growing attraction toward him has the night leading in that direction.

you knew mingi was a good dancer, something you learned at one of these parties last year. it was the only thing that made you smile on those nights actually, watching the boy go from bumping and grinding to jumping around like a kid with a sugar high.

and lucky for you, tonight, he was going with the former. his body placed behind yours, not a stitch of alcohol coursing through your veins, as you guys dance and giggle and and talk to a few people from his classes.

it’s something very casual, nothing innately sexual about your moves other then your bodies are close and you can feel his groin against you. but you’re both just moving to the beat, your head thrown back on his shoulder as a girl tells you all about mingi’s public speaking skills, or lack thereof.

“he gets sooo red it’s actually kind of cute,” she tells you, the wink she throws your way making you both share a smirk; because anyone with eyes can see that, embarrassed or not, terrible at public speaking or not, he’s cute.

“ehh, he’s okay,” you tease lightly, his hold on your waist tightening. you squeal when his cold hand touches the sliver of skin exposed from your shirt, elbowing him lightly before turning around and poking at his cheek.

“what?”

“i’m okay?” he mocks, the look on his flushed face making you giggle into him.

“well, what do you want me to say?” you ask, cocking your head to the side in a way you know is gonna cause trouble. but you wanna push him to that point, the excited warmth fluttering in your chest when he looks at you in a way that makes you feel wanted.

you hadn’t been able to see it at first, mingi’s clear affection and liking toward you meanwhile he thinks it was there even when you were with wooyoung; but of course, he knew better than to act on it, watching your smile and laugh from afar and hoping that wooyoung knew how lucky he was.

because he’s pretty sure since the moment he met you, when you came in holding wooyoung’s hand with a small, shy smile on you flushed face, he even wanted you then.

but now, it’s like the roles have switched. now, there’s a very drunken, very pissed off wooyoung standing across the room wishing he could be the taller boy.

he’d been watching you two since the moment you arrived, what sparked the alcohol he guzzled down in a matter of a few hours after he told himself he was done drinking.

yeosang told him to stop drinking beers so he moved to shots and that’s why he’s currently stumbling around and muttering under his breath, already the defeated, shitfaced boy no one wants to be at a public event.

he knows he shouldn’t feel it, the anger brewing inside his chest at seeing you and mingi pressed up one another flirting. but he is. he’s so fucking mad and jealous and seething, it’s only a matter of time before the slightest bit of sanity he has left breaks.

makes him stomp over and grab you in a way he knows isn’t right. in a way he knows will make you hate him even more; but maybe that’s why he does it. just completely self destructing because seeing you again, and seeing you with someone else, has really put things into perspective for him.

that he’s not the sweet, perfect boyfriend he thought he was and, instead, someone very flawed and toxic. someone who hurt you and is now expecting a second chance solely because he loves you.

someone who, after seeing his ex girlfriend try to move on and build up her confidence again, ends up stumbling over and grabbing her by the arm anyway.

one second you’re looking up at mingi and smiling and the next your neck nearly snaps off, looking down at the tight grip on your arm as you hear a familiar voice growl to the taller boy that you and him need a minute.

you don’t know why or how mingi allows it to happen but suddenly, you’re outside. the cold air surrounding you does nothing to calm your burning veins, ripping your arm from wooyoung’s grasp and pushing him back with all the strength you could muster.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not even have spotted the boy all night. “i told you not to touch me.”

“i know you did. and i know you hate me. and i also know i deserve that but-”

“no shit,” you snap, taking a step backward and looking the boy up and down who you barely recognize right now. he still looks like the person you once loved but his demeanor is so incredibly different, eyes hazy and bloodshot from the alcohol you can smell on his breath.

“i miss you,” he mutters lowly, the drunken slur to his words making your stomach twist. “i just...i just wanna talk, y/n and if you still-”

“i don’t wanna talk to you.”

and if wooyoung was sober and in the right frame of mind, he wouldn’t have approached you to begin with. he wouldn’t have dared put his hands on you again and begged you for a second chance like he did that fateful afternoon.

but because he’s a mess, because he’s been a mess for the past several months, he looms over you and keeps his eyes on you as the next words leave him.

“but you wanna talk to mingi?”

“don’t you dare start that shit,” you spit out, every angry, red-hot emotion searing up in your veins - but you’re happy it’s not tears, at least. you think if you cried in this man’s presence again, you’d have to hide away for the rest of your life. “you don’t get to do that.”

“i don’t get to feel jealous that i can’t talk to the girl i lov-”

and similar to the slap you gave him that day, when you walked in and saw another girl in his lap, you can’t stop yourself when you do it this time either. have him taint that word and feeling for you anymore than he did when he lied to your face for months.

“it’s your fucking fault, wooyoung. you did this. you cheated on me and completely proved that that’s not true,” you snap, anger-filled eyes burning into his. “so don’t say that to me.”

“you don’t know what i feel,” he counters lowly, a slur to his words that has you knowing this is not the time for this conversation.” i’m telling the truth.”

he stumbles closer to you and you’re so focused on staring him down that you don’t see his hand move to your waist.

“you don’t know how much i fucking regret it. please, baby, if you’d just-”

“get away from me.”

“get away from me,” you say, attempting to rip your hands from his grasp. but he only tightens them and brings you closer to him.

“just please, give me five fucking minutes, y/n, so we can finally-”

“if you just listen to me, maybe you’ll-”

“stop,” you say, struggling to pull your hands free. you need to get away from him. you can’t hear him sound this pathetic and sad and begging.

“stop. let go of me, wooyoung,” you say, voice firm and strong despite how shaky and upset you’re getting on the inside. the familiarity of this scene is too much, his desperate pleas and your building sadness and hurt making a lump form in your throat.

“did you know i was drunk when it first happened?” he slurs out, his glossy eyes looking at you with such pathetic desperation. “i didn’t even know what the fuck happened the next morning. i didn’t remember anything, not even how i got home.”

you swallow down any response regarding the first incident, feeling tears burn your eyes as you shake your head at him; you can see she completely took advantage of him but...

“but what about the time after that? and then the time after that?” you ask, watching as his face falls and you feel heart break in a way it hasn’t in months; he may be telling the truth about the first time but if that really were the case, it wouldn’t have happened when he was stone cold sober on a friday morning.

“what about those two months after, wooyoung?” you voice aloud, begging the tears behind your eyes not to fall. “were you shitfaced then?”

“no but i-”

“exactly,” you spit out. “you knew what you were doing then. so get the fuck off me and leave me alone.”

“i can’t, please just-”

“wooyoung, stop.”

it’s mingi’s deep voice that pulls you and wooyoung out of the heated discussion, your ex tightening his hold on you and attempting to pull you behind him.

he doesn’t wanna lose you yet, you’ve been gone for months. even if you’re fighting and even if you hate him, he’s selfish and he needs you. he wants you still.

“you stop, mingi,” wooyoung growls, a new type of anger flooding through him. he releases his grip on you and stumbles toward the much taller boy, seemingly unfazed by the size difference as he shoves him back.

“if anyone should be pissed here, it’s me. stealing my fucking girl like some little bitch.”

“she’s not your girl anymore,” mingi says lowly, his eyes and body tense as he stares down wooyoung. “if you weren’t shitfaced right now, you’d remember that. and you’d remember why.”

“you’re such a-”

“enough, woo,” you say quietly, the nickname that rendered him hurt three weeks ago when you said it making him snap his head back to look at you; and before you can see his softened, glossy eyes, you warn him to never do this again before you turn to go home.

you hear footsteps follow behind the whole way, knowing that it’s mingi and knowing that his head is probably trained on his feet right now. you don’t stop walking until you’re at his car in the campus parking lot, leant against the side and looking up at him for the first time in twenty minutes.

he sees unshed tears in your eyes and his face immediately crumbles, about to take you in his arms when you hold out your arm and shake your head.

“please... don’t ask me to come to another one of these.”

guilt immediately consumes him and his adams apple bobs, a quick nod of his head before he pulls you into his chest. you sniffle against his shirt and inhale his scent. you couldn’t help in the beginning but compare him to wooyoung, the different smell of his cologne and broader chest under your head.

it was a good different but you hate that, even after an exchange like the one you and him just had, your mind still goes back to wooyoung; you still think about him and compare them and maybe that’s why you’re crying right now. too

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” mingi mumbles against your head.

you don’t even realize there’s tears on your face until he pulls back and wipes at them, that broken feeling within your chest so painful it feels like you’re about to collapse.

“i hate him, i really do,” you whimper out, shaking your head and wiping at your red face. “i...why did he do it? i thought i was over it, mingi. why am i not...” your voice breaks and you shake your head, struggling to breathe and get the words out in the cold air. “i fucking hate him.”

mingi can only hold you and rock you gently, his warm arms never leaving you as he tries to mend your broken heart. it’s something he’s been trying to do for months and will continue to do, wanting nothing more than for you to be free from the damage wooyoung did.

and if it were that easy, he’d be able to look at this moment in a few months time and see this was when his love and affection for you shined through and helped you. helped you see that there are other people who want to help you and be there for you, who will try their best to treat you better than the boy who hurt you.

but, unfortunately for him, things are never that easy.

you threw yourself into work and school in a way you’d never done before.

if you weren’t doing study sessions with a few people from your classes or spending nights in the library, you were busting your ass cleaning tables and dealing with overly nice college kids who attempt to make up for the mean and bitter middle-aged.

true to mingi’s promise that october night, he never asked you to go to another party again; instead, he’d crash your movie nights afterward, only ever staying at the frat house for an hour or two because “they get old real fucking quick.”

but he never says the same thing about your friday and saturday nights, even though they religiously consist of laying in bed, eating junk food and watching cheesy romantic dramas.

so whether you were taking pity on him or your study groups pleas to meet them at a bar down town finally got to you, you were en route with mingi and a far too chatty uber driver for a night of “much needed fun and drinking,” as one of your friends put it.

“i’m kind of scared,” you mumble to mingi, a smile pulling at his lips at your innocent confession. you’ve never been to a bar before, let alone one that is known to serve under age kids and is raided by the cops monthly.

“i’ve never been here but i’ve heard it’s fun. the music is pretty good and there’s a live band that-”

“are you two a couple?”

you and mingi eye each other suspiciously, a smirk playing on both your lips at the man’s awkwardly blurted out question. it’s almost as awkward as you saying yes when mingi says no, the taller boy’s face falling as his head snaps to you.

“wait...i mean...yes?” mingi says, hand going over your mouth as you hold back a giggle.

you both hear the man laugh out a response, you far too consumed by mingi’s shocked face while he’s still trying to process why the hell you had said that. he can see it’s all teasing and fun though, a glint in your eye that makes it obvious you were only saying that to quell an uncomfortably nosy question.

but he’s not ignorant to the fact of how much he wants that to be true.

“why would he even ask that?” you giggle out as you two walk into the bar, not a bouncer or real id in sight. “right in the middle of our conversation, no less. what a weird thing to do.”

a smile creeps up on mingi’s face as he already sees the effects of your three spiked seltzers from back in your dorm, his hand brushing your hair behind your ear. his eyes linger on your pink cheeks and he has to stop himself from laughing, the two of being pulled from the moment just as it started.

“maybe because he thought we looked-”

“y/n!”

the familiar squeal of your lab partner’s voice causes you to jump, mingi’s body still close to yours as you say hello and introduce them to each other.

“for tonight, this is mingi, my boyfriend,” you tease, the wink you throw his way causing him to shove you playfully.

the girl can only watch with a smirk, knowing that when she drags you to the bathroom in 20 minutes because she broke the seal, she’s gonna have to ask you all about that.

“hi mingi, boyfriend of the night,” she says, the shy but handsome smile he throws her way all too endearing. her hands falls into yours as she beckons you both to the dance floor, dragging you away just ahead enough to ask if you plan on keeping him longer.

you only roll your eyes and push her playfully, looking back to smile at mingi who’s watching you in a way that makes you think, tonight, you’re finally gonna kiss him.

or that could just be the alcohol coursing through your veins, another cup of vodka and something, you don’t even know what your friend asked for. but it’s good, cold and sweet and you’re gone enough where you can barely taste the sting of alcohol going down your throat.

you wouldn’t say you were drunk, courtesy of the huge meal you and mingi had back at your room, but you’re definitely a little tipsy. tipsy enough to dance without a care in the world, not distracted by the big groups of people or much too stuffy environment.

you were there to have fun and dance, any problems from school work or shitty customers or a lingering ex-boyfriend the last thing on your mind.

you haven’t seen wooyoung since that october night, when he was far too drunk and far too emotional and made you cry far too similarly like when you first broke up.

it’s always a sad, hopeless cry, knowing that you shouldn’t still be hurting but feeling it deep within your gut that, whether you want to admit it or not, you still were. you were still hurt by the betrayal of someone you loved so much, even though you wished you could just turn those feelings off.

and despite all of these feelings inside of you, you’re surprised to learn that, in your impaired state, you’re not a sad drunk yet. you’ve been laughing and smiling and dancing, bouncing your attention between your study group friends and mingi who spotted a few guys from his classes.

which should’ve been the first indication that wooyoung was lingering around this bar.

he spotted you a few times during the night but knew better than to go over, remembering the last time he saw you, he got a well-deserved red mark on his cheek. he also saw how mingi watched you, a soft fondness in his gaze that hurt him as much as it comforted him.

because he thought you’d be safe with him tonight. that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight or allow you to stumble off to the bathroom by yourself.

but when the several cups hit you all at once, an unpleasant pressure on your bladder, you told the group you were gonna go pee and walked off without any response. it was so fast, one minute laughing and dancing and hearing the pounding music in their ears and then the next realizing you weren’t there.

“oh...my god, my hair,” you whined in the mirror as you washed your hands, brushing through the frizzy, knotty strands.

“it looks bea-beautiful!” another tipsy girl smiles, stumbling over to you and holding herself up on the wall. “don’t be silly!”

a giggle bubbles out of your mouth as you look at her in shock, her three friends coming out and praising each other is a similar way.

it’s an oddly intimate and sweet ten minutes in the girl’s bathroom but it keeps you smiling even on your way out, waving goodbye to them before you turn back around and bump into someone’s chest.

“oh, i’m sorry, i-”

“it’s okay, pretty,” a deep unfamiliar voice says, his voice far too brash and flirty for your liking. you look up to see glossed over eyes and a smirk covering his sweaty face, the faint scent of alcohol and b.o making you queasy.

“how’re you doing tonight?”

“i’m fine,” you say, every bit of you now sobered as you watch his predatory gaze. the bar is still pretty crowded but the bathrooms are dark and off to the side, something you hadn’t even noticed in your tipsy state.

“you here with someone tonight?” the boy asks, eyebrow raised suggestively as he takes a step closer to you.

you swallow nervously as you nod politely, a tight smile on your face when your heart starts to pound. something innate within you is scared, the dark vacant corner only making you more nervous when your back hits the wall behind you.

“you’re pretty. so i guess it’s a boyfriend, huh?”

“yes,” you say shortly, wishing you could push him back or or yell or slap him the way you did wooyoung. “so if you’ll excuse me, he’s probably wondering where i-”

but before you can move around the boy, a clammy hand on your elbow pulls you back to the wall. you immediately feel your heart drop into your stomach, panic setting in as your eyes shoot up to the man’s face.

you don’t like the look behind his beady, glossy eyes and if you can’t get away within the next few seconds, you’re probably gonna scream.

“now hold up now,” he says playfully, the slur in his words and stale smell of beer on his breath only making this worse. “maybe i’m b-better than your boyfriend,” he hiccups in your face, breath wafting in your face and making it pinch together.

“i don’t think so,” you hum under your breath, shaking your head as you pull your arm out of his grasp. “so please leave me alone now.”

but he doesn’t.

“hey, hey, hey, wait,” he says, a crooked smile on his face as he blocks his bigger body with yours. “just give me a chance, yeah? let me buy you a drink?”

your eyes flare and fists clench at his persistence, the way he’s inching closer to you and not taking no for an answer really making you mad. making you ready to stomp on his foot and kick him between the legs.

“c’mon, your boyfriend doesn’t even know you’re gone,” he says, an attempt to sound sly and convincing only making your skin crawl even more. “he’s probably with some other chick. let me show that i’m much better than him, babe.”

his hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, a clammy thumb running along your bare skin. “he doesn’t know how good he has it if he let a pretty little thing like you walk off alone.”

“i know how good i have it actually,” you hear a voice mutter, one that, up until this very moment, would’ve made you angry or sad; but now, you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful to hear him.

you hear footsteps coming closer and each one fills you with relief, the thought that he’s about to kick the shit out of him the least of your concerns.

“so i suggest you take your fucking hand off her.”

your eyes meet the tight ones of wooyoung over the boy’s shoulder, his jaw clenched and gaze calculating as he debates ripping the guy off of you and shoving him against the wall or tugging you behind him.

he goes with both.

taking you by the hand gently but firmly, your body bumping his as he puts you behind him. and then similar to how you were caged in, wooyoung does the same to the boy an inch or two taller than him; but it’s like neither are even aware of that.

wooyoung’s body is stiff and rigid, the vein in his neck popping out as he stares down the guy. what freaks the creep out the most is, even by how pissed and dark this psycho is looking at him, his gaze looks...careless. like he wouldn’t even hesitate beating the shit out of him despite the way they’d be thrown out of here in three seconds.

“didn’t know you were real, dude,” the man stutters out, as if that is a good enough excuse to pin you against the wall and harass you.

and wooyoung must find it absurd too, a scoff leaving his mouth as he cocks his head to the side.

“would it matter if i wasn’t?” he growls lowly, his body hot and angry as he takes his shirt in his hand. he wraps it around it to the point of choking the guy, his body thrashing underneath his hold.

“get the f-fuck off me you psycho.”

“you don’t like it, do you?” wooyoung asks, a sinister smile on his face as he steps closer to the boy. “being caged in by a fucking lunatic? are you scared now?”

your eyes widen at the dark tone in wooyoung’s voice, your quiet call of his name falling on deaf ears. he’s too focused on not beating the fuck out of the guy in front of him, his hand tightening as he decides to throw him into the corner of the wall.

you watch the man’s head smack off the wood trim and immediately screech, a chastising call of wooyoung’s name that has him grabbing your hand and heading for the exit.

you’re about to object until you see he’s only bringing you outside the bar, sitting you down on a bench outside and welcoming the cold night air; it’s mid-november, only a week until thanksgiving break, and it’s unsurprisingly very bitter out.

he helps you sit down before letting out a shaky sigh, his hands running through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down and not run back in to finish what he wants so desperately wants to. he’s pacing slightly and you’d be probably be scared if it was anyone else, watching his jaw tick and vein pop in his neck.

“you’re jeaaalous,” you tease your boyfriend of three months, watching his eyes follow two boys who had talked to you after class; you’d become friendly with them the first day of classes, their bright smiles and funny remarks immediately making you feel comfortable with them.

“no,” he growls lowly, his hand wrapped around your waist the whole time you go to your locker. you bite down on your lip to hide your smile but it does nothing to keep your giggles at bay, your back pressed up against the cold metal as he looks over your face.

you cock your head to the side and smile teasingly at him, your thumb soothing over the ticking vein in his neck. the feel of it under your skin makes you wince a little because it seems almost dangerous, like his head or neck is gonna explode.

“no?” you repeat, cocking an eyebrow as he looks at you in disdain. “then what’s this?”

his hand reaches out to grab yours, quickly interlacing your fingers as his other rests next to your head on the cool metal.

“nothing,” he responds dumbly, dipping his head and hiding the possessive flare in his eyes as his next words fan over your ear. “i just don’t like seeing someone with my girl.”

you shake your head of the memory and see wooyoung making his way over to you, the boy slowly kneeling in front of you as he meets your glossy gaze.

“you okay?”

you lick over your dry lips, a lump already forming in your throat at his closeness and the softness in his voice. you can tell by his eyes that he hasn’t had a stitch of alcohol tonight, everything about him looking so similar to the boy he was last year during this time.

before things went to shit and before he started the double life you both still haven’t recovered from.

you don’t know if you could get the words out if you tried so you can only nod, your cold hands in one another. it feels as if a little bit of everything about the past five minutes has sobered you, fear and comfort and the coldness that should be alerting you to get away from the boy looking at you the way he is.

but you can’t seem to do that, lips pressing into one another when you feel that lump growing bigger and bigger. you think you stop breathing when he reaches up to cup your cheek, his warm palm on your face for only a few seconds before you let out a shaky breath.

you know this isn’t good. that you and him together alone right now isn’t good. months of telling yourself you hate him and that he should rot before seeing him before your eyes and knowing that a part of you still cares for him.

“wooyoung,” you mumble warningly, that breaking feeling within your chest knowing you can’t have him touching you.

his face falls at the same time as his hand, splayed out on your jean covered knee in a way that feels so foreign but familiar. his hands are smaller than mingi’s but there’s something about them that almost makes you feel more comforted, remembering the times like this he would hold you and make you feel better.

made you feel like no one would ever hurt you because he was there.

“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice deep and full of genuine sorrow.

but you don’t know what exactly he’s sorry for. for the drunken man, for him touching you, for what he did? you go with the first one, because you’re not ready for the conversation the other two need.

“not your fault,” you hum quietly, trying to talk through the growing lump in your throat. “just a drunk asshole.”

“not about that,” he laughs out humorlessly, rising from his spot below you and sitting down next to you. he’s close enough to where you can feel the heat radiating off his body but your arms aren’t touching - just a few centimeters separate you.

“i’m sorry about our last conversation. it...wasn’t fair of me to do that and say anything to you.”

you shiver as a biting gust of win blows past, your arms wrapping around yourself as you simply nod. you can’t really think of what to say. because you don’t wanna say it’s okay, it’s not, but he also seems genuinely apologetic.

“i’m trying not to drink anymore,” he explains to you, not quite sure how to take your silence and choosing to fill it. you can hear some embarrassment laced in his voice, his eyes trained down on his dirty sneakers. “it’s...caused me nothing but problems.”

caused him to lose you and fuck up time and time again. misplace all of his priorities and transform him into a person who lost his happiness in the span of a few months.

“i messed up that night obviously, though,” he chuckles out, not a trance of humor in his tone as he meets your gaze. usually it’d be him watching you be nervous but now he can feel the shift in dynamic. that even though you’re still uncomfortable and nervous too, you still have the upper hand.

you can decide right now if you’re gonna start this conversation or tell him to go fuck himself.

“i’m sorry you had to witness that. i know it was really fucking shitty of me.”

“it was,” you agree quietly after a few silent seconds, wooyoung’s heart dropping in his stomach as he prepares to get his ass handed to him. “but i don’t know if that second slap was warranted.”

that loud high chuckle you’d always complain was ear piercing bubbles out of his mouth and you can’t help but bite back a smile at hearing it, resisting the urge to giggle right along side with him.

“it definitely was. i was a dick.”

you only shrug your shoulders, something pulling in your chest the more you two sit down beside one another and actually talk. not curse or slur words at each other or put your hands on the other but actually have some sort of discussion.

“it wasn’t right. what i did.”

and then just as you were starting to feel good about all of this talking stuff, your heart falls in your stomach and you wanna run from away from this conversation. a part of you doesn’t wanna reopen these wounds but another part of you knows they were never really healed or closed.

especially not after seeing him again.

“i can’t even tell you why or what happened because i don’t even fucking know. i missed you even though we saw each other and talked a lot but...she was just always fucking there. would never leave me alone and i was so stupid to not realize it.”

that’s something he always reflects back on, how you saw something the first day you met her but you both chopped it up to insecurities.

“and then i think i just started to lie because i loved you. which doesn’t even make sense because you don’t lie to someone you love. but i was so selfish and desperate to keep you. i knew you’d leave me.”

“no shit, wooyoung,” you can’t help but say, the quiver in your voice one you can’t stop as you hear all of this from his mouth. “the first night when she kissed you drunk, you should’ve told me. the fact that you didn’t...makes me thing you knew it was gonna happen again. without alcohol.”

“i didn’t tell you because i thought you’d be mad. i know i would’ve been.”

“i don’t think you’d be mad if someone took advantage of me,” you confess quietly, something you now know was absolutely the case. “but truthfully, it wasn’t even that, woo. you lied right to my face when i asked you in my room that day.”

“we’re just friends,” he says and you bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t scream; you hadn’t said anything like that so why is he telling you that? “she only texted me for the schedule, love.”

you look up to meet his gaze and see a frown on his lips, his eyes trailing over every part of your face.

“do you trust me?” he then asks suddenly, seeing all of the doubt and hesitation over your face. you immediately nod your head, feeling tears burn the back of your eyes at the idea of starting a fight.

“then why does it seem like you don’t?

“you made it seem like it was me. and that’s why i really tried to fucking hate you,” you confess, voice wavering and watery and you even hear how it sounds like you’re about to have a break down. “being with her was bad and me needing to see that was bad but you...lying like that was worse.”

he swallows the lump in his throat as tears sting his eyes, his jaw clenched and eyes on the concrete so tears don’t fall.

“a part of me thinks i should hate you,” you say after a few silent moments, wondering if he’s even listening to your words anymore. “but i...” your voice breaks and the cold air stings your watery eyes, successfully (and thankfully) halting your words.

and whether wooyoung noticed your shivering or saw your eyes, you feel him move beside you before his sweatshirt is placed around your shoulders. the scent of his cologne could make you burst into tears on the spot, the teakwood scent you loved so much further overwhelming you.

“thanks,” you mumble quietly, his hummed response the only sound between you two for the next few moments.

the muffled music and chatter from inside the bar could be heard from the street but it seems as if no one is out tonight. just you, wooyoung and the lingering silence that comes with sitting beside an ex who hurt you and an ex you’re still in love with.

it just so happens that, for you, both of those are still the case. no matter how much you wanna deny it or pretend that’s not the case, him sitting beside you and giving you soft little smiles is making you weaker than you wished.

you know you should get up and leave, tell him this isn’t a good idea and that you should go back inside to mingi and your friends. but it’s like your brain and your body are at a complete disconnect, welcoming the warm heat from his jacket and the strangely comfortable presence of him beside you.

“i still love you.”

the wind blows by at the time he says that and, at first, you think you made it up. that your deluded mind is hearing things and you really are just far too vulnerable and upset right now.

but the when you peak at him, you can tell by the look on his face he’s not sure if he said that either. actually confessed to you in such a way he knows is wrong and unfair but just couldn’t stop because to the core, he’s selfish when it comes to you.

he always has been.

“i always will. i always did.”

and when you feel yourself start to break, the tears burning at the back of your eyes coming to the surface, you feel the anger and spite finally leave your body and be replaced with a sad, pathetic version of it.

“i don’t know how i’m supposed to believe that,” you whimper out quietly, your eyes roaming his face in a way that breaks his heart; your eyes look so sad and defeated, he just wants to pull you into him. “i don’t even know why you’re saying this to me right now, woo.”

but he knows it’s in the way you still call him that with ease, like you don’t even realize you’re saying it and it’s just completely natural, that that’s exactly why he’s saying it.

that he wants you to see, even though he made a mistake, there’s still something to hold on to.

“i miss you,” he tells you softly, his voice low in a way that makes you swallow the lump in your throat. “i really fucking miss you, y/n. and i love you.”

“you’re not being fair,” you whimper out, the tears brimming your eyes falling down your cheek as you look at him. that’s when it really hits him how much he hurt you, how much you avoiding him and blocking him out of your life was meant to shield you from this.

“that’s not fair at all, wooyoung. what am i supposed to do? just forget it? believe now that you love me? you said the same thing then.”

“and it was true then,” he says, his tone more desperate and tight. “it was a mistake, y/n. the first time and the times after that. they’re lousy excuses but i’m being honest.”

he reaches out to wipe your tears and you can’t find the energy to pull away, exhaling a shaky breath when his thumb wipes at your face. his touch is gentle and soft and makes this moment even more hard for you, the look on his face making your heart wrench in your chest.

“please, baby. i know it’d be hard but if we could just-”

“don’t. please.”

you pull your face away and shake your head as you look at him, wiping your wet cheek with the back of your hand.

“you’re not about to honestly suggest we date again? are you out of your fucking mind?”

“no no no. not date,” he’s quick to clarify, his hands up in innocence. “if we could just be friends. friendly. not...avoid each other and argue every time we see each other.”

he lifts his hands to your face again with a pout on his, swiping both thumbs under your eyes; you notice his own eyes are teary but don’t even wanna think about him crying in front of you.

it hurts you as much as it enrages you, remembering the last time he broke down in front of you.

“i don’t want you to cry every time you see me,” he mumbles lowly, his gaze looking over your face with such affection you can’t bear to look at him anymore.

“i don’t...i want...i...”

“i’m never gonna trust anyone ever again. do you fucking realize that, wooyoung?” you cry, his voice ringing in your head from january, when now you know he had already been with her, asking why you didn’t trust him. “you were with her and turned it around on me and asked why i didn’t trust you.”

“i want you to trust me.”

but he says that like it’s easy. like you can just so easily forget everything and trust him blindly. like he didn’t do anything wrong.

“i don’t know, wooyoung.”

he sees the fear and apprehension flickering behind your eyes, a sigh leaving his mouth as guilt starts to wash over him. he shouldn’t be doing this right now. he shouldn’t be asking you to do this when he’s not even sure you’ve forgiven him yet.

he shouldn’t be feeling this intense want and need to have you to himself again.

you both hear the faint sound of the door swinging open but pay no mind to it, too lost in the intense gazes and buzzing air between you two. you know you shouldn’t be considering this just as much as he shouldn’t be asking but here you are, actually considering his words right now.

“just...think about it?” he offers, eyes glinting with hope and affection that would usually soften you in a second. “i know it’ll take time but maybe we can just try?”

you lick over your cold, chapped looks as you look at him, every part of you knowing you should be saying a big fuck you and fuck no to him.

“i’ll wait for you again,” he adds, a hint of teasing behind his words as he thinks about your first few months together. him sitting with you every day during lunch and you outright ignoring him for half of them. watching as your confused expressions and sneers slowly morphed into smiles and giggles.

realizing that, he was right to think you guys were good for each other, because being with you was one of the easiest things in the world when he wasn’t being a fucking asshole.

“you barely waited,” you grumbled lowly, remembering the events from high school a lot more along the lines of him buying you snacks, asking you to a different movie every weekend and not giving you a moment to yourself during lunch.

“a whole two months actually,” he says, the amusement in his voice making a sad smile cross your face. he can tell it’s sad by the way it doesn’t meet your eyes and it makes his heart hurt just a little bit, his hand moving to yours so your cold fingertips brush.

“i’ll wait as long as you need this time. and if you decide you don’t want to be friends...that’s fine, too. i’ll...accept it and never talk to you again.”

you hate the way your heart pangs with hurt at that idea, terrified and embarrassed by how fast things changed in three months. how three months, you never wanted to see him again and now the prospect of that is physically paining you.

but could you put yourself through this? should you put yourself through this? he could be lying again. he could just be-

“y/n?”

mingi’s deep voice pulls you from your thoughts as you jump at the sound of him, your eyes meeting his confused, cautious gaze before quickly snatching your hand away from wooyoung; but it’s obvious he already saw how close you guys were, on top of the fact his sweatshirt is wrapped around your shoulders.

“you okay?” mingi asks as he looks at you, his gaze shifting to wooyoung and hardening every so slightly. “why are you upsetting her? haven’t you done enough?”

“mingi, it’s-”

“some drunk asshole was harassing her because someone let her walk off alone,” wooyoung says to the boy, standing from his spot next to you and walking over. it’s at that time your friends come out and their eyes light up upon seeing you, quickly rushing over and dabbing at your red, damp face.

mingi and wooyoung continue to have a stare down as you’re bombarded by drunken coos and sticky hands, the taller boy watching you carefully before wooyoung clears his throat.

“guy said she had a boyfriend but that’s not the case, is it?” wooyoung says, the shift in him to being conniving and mean at the way he sees the boy looking at you. “no matter how much your bitch ass wants it.”

“fuck you,” mingi spits out, “you don’t deserve to even speak to her after what you did.”

“you don’t deserve to give me advice after you tried to swoop in and steal her.”

“she’s not something to steal, asshole. i’ve actually been there for her, wooyoung,” mingi says, his tone deep and gruff as he resists the urge to thrown him up against the wall. “watching her cry and get through the shit that you inflicted on her.”

the words effect him just as much as mingi wanted them too but he’d never let the boy know that, instead narrowing his eyes and shoving the boy backward.

“our shit’s between me and her so maybe fuck off for once and leave her alone,” wooyoung says, popping his neck to the side as he watches mingi’s jaw tighten. “look like a pathetic little puppy following her around.”

“more pathetic than pining after someone you cheated on? you know you fucked up and now that she’s moving on, you’re pissed.”

“who the fuck said she’s moving on you-”

“mingi, we’re gonna go.”

it’s your soft voice that breaks up their lowly growled conversation, wooyoung’s dark eyes changing as he turns back to look at you. you hold his gaze for a few seconds before meeting mingi and the boy can’t even lie in saying it hurts how much more comfortable you seem looking at him.

wooyoung can barely hear mingi mumble his response, letting out a groan when the taller boy shoulder checks him and says “they’ll see him around.” the boy bites back a snarky comment as you meet his gaze again, flickers of hope and confusion and fear in your gaze.

he can only assure you with a soft smile and hope that you really see he meant every word he said.

“i couldn’t even tell if he meant it, you know,” you tell mingi on the walk home, wooyoung’s sweatshirt still hanging from your body.

the walk from the bar to your dorm is only about twenty minutes, you and mingi’s hands bumping clumsily as you walk down the main road.

“like he seems sorry and he just said we’ll be friends. but i can’t....actually trust him again. what he did was wrong and i can’t just forgive him.”

mingi’s been quiet during your rant for the past few minutes, only the occasional hum or nod assuring you he’s even been listening. but it’s when you crane your neck up to look at him you see his face is...unusual.

expressionless, almost, in a way you never see on the usually happy and smiley boy.

“mingi? are you okay?”

“hm? yeah, i’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head before his arms bumps into yours.

your eyebrows pull together in suspicion, about to ask him if he’s even been listening before he beings to talk again. “do you actually feel that way, though? that what he did was wrong and that you can’t forgive? or do you just think you should feel that way?”

“i-”

the question strikes you more than you thought it would. because the answer seems obvious - you shouldn’t wanna forgive him. you should know what he did was wrong, know it in the way loyalty and trust is such a crucial part to relationships.

but forgiveness is where that line gets blurred for you.

hearing him and seeing him look and sound apologetic was hard. thinking back on your relationship and remembering how good you guys were together was hard. trying to put yourself in his situation, although you’re not sure you would’ve been in it in the first place, was hard.

and it’s not like he’s asking you to trust him and be his girlfriend again.

you’re just gonna...slowly repair your relationship again, right? but when you utter that thought to mingi, his feet stop moving and he looks down at you with an unconvinced expression.

“you say that, y/n, and i wanna believe you,” he says, his hand toying at your fingers as he tries to remain gentle and calm. “but...i don’t know. you guys looked...”

the softness and affection was obvious, the possession and love behind wooyoung’s eyes matching your soft but fearful gaze was eye opening.

if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve seen a couple making up from a fight. a happy, loving couple who was able to get past a hardship in their relationship and would be able to thrive again.

“what?”

“you guys looked like you were...together. i thought i interrupted something,” mingi says honestly, remembering how you jumped away and your hands and face followed. “kind of seemed like you guys were gonna kiss.”

“mingi, that’s definitely not-”

“and look, if that’s what you want, that’s fine. but, please, y/n. you have to be careful. you can’t forget how much he hurt you and really have to consider if he’s being-”

and maybe it’s because you just wanted him to stop talking about it. or because your mind is muddled and confused and still swirling with the effects of alcohol and the tension with wooyoung. or because, underneath all of this drama, a part of you also has come to like mingi.

or at least, the comfort and feelings of affection and desire he gave you. he’s been there for you since the beginning and after a few months, you always thought this moment was gonna happen. you just didn’t know when.

you didn’t know when one of you was gonna grow the balls to kiss and see what happens after that.

it takes him a few seconds to respond before you feel him kiss you back, lips parted and his hand in yours moving to your hips. he pulls you against him the more you kiss, like you’re pouring every emotion you’ve experienced tonight into him while he’s pouring every emotion he’s held back for months.

he just doesn’t know that at the time.

he just knows that you pull back and smile at him in such a pretty way, a blush on your cheeks and glint in your eye as you tell him you really are only considering a friendship with wooyoung.

but you go home that night not thinking about the kiss or mingi’s sleeping body beside you. you go home thinking about how nice it feels to be wrapped in wooyoung’s familiar scent and jacket.

almost like, when you close your eyes, you can pretend the body next to you is his.

truthfully, you didn’t know how that kiss was gonna effect the dynamic between you and mingi. you didn’t know if things were gonna be awkward or different or if now all of the expectations changed.

but even that night when he dropped you off, and stayed for a sleepover which was not unusual, you curled up in bed with a bag of chips and your laptop as you each shared a headphone.

and nothing felt different.

you two just went along with your usual relationship, not even mentioning the kiss until it became something that happened a day ago. then a week ago, then two weeks ago, then over a month ago, until it kind of seemed like something you guys were never gonna talk about.

but school and work kept you both busy anyway, the last few days before christmas break full of studying for finals, finishing projects and dealing with the holiday rush of customers stocking up on sugary desserts and espresso shots.

among those customers in the coffee shop was wooyoung, the boy coming in three times a week for his usual order of black coffee and a chipotle chicken club.

at first, you could tell the remnants of your conversation outside the bar were lingering. you were both apprehensive, his eyes guarded and voice overly polite every time he ordered or thanked you.

you kept up your professional attitude but still felt that familiar feeling of nervousness bubbling in your stomach, torn between giving him another chance as a friend or saving yourself the possibility of getting hurt again.

but it was in the little things he did over the weeks of him coming in that eventually wore you down.

when a particularly unpleasant customer gave you shit, he was quick to jump in like a ‘good samaritan,’ share a not-so-nice few words that had you biting back a smile and instead telling him it was okay.

he always ordered two drinks by accident, his black coffee and an iced coffee that would sit on his table for a few minutes before he came back over to you and your coworkers claiming he didn’t need it anymore.

but he knew it was your favorite drink and he could tell you needed a pick me up, working well into the evening until the sky fell dark and streets grew empty.

which brought him to his current predicament, the last person in the coffee shop while you closed up alone on the not so decent side of town; he noticed you closed alone on thursdays and it never sat right with him, watching it happen for two weeks before deciding he wasn’t gonna allow it anymore.

“hey, we close in about ten minutes. can i get you anything else?” he hears you ask, his head snapping up from his phone. there’s a rag in your hand and a small, polite smile on your face, looking him over warily.

“oh nah, i’m good,” he says, a shake of his head and a small laugh leaving his mouth. you purse your lips to the side and nod unconvinced, going back to the counter to finish cleaning.

you let out a small sigh when you realize you forgot to text your roommate to come pick you up, your car in the shop and god knows how much money down in your back account. but before you can even get to her contact, you hear wooyoung coming your way.

“thanks again, y/n, ” he says, gesturing to his empty cup of coffee in hand.

“you’re welcome! have a nice night, wooyoung,” you smile politely.

you think that maybe saying his name over and over will remind you of what he’s done to you, halt the stupid butterflies in your stomach that erupt every time you see him enter the coffee shop or catch him looking at you.

he smiles but doesn’t respond, only looks you over before looking out the window and then back at you.

“so, how’re you getting home?”

you press your lips together as you now realize why he’s been lingering tonight, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him; he must’ve noticed your car not in the parking lot before.

“i was wondering why you were lingering,” you mumble, a chuckle leaving his mouth that makes a small, uncontrollable smile pull at your lips.

“knew you were on to me,” he quips playfully, winking as he goes over to the garbage and throws out his cup. “lemme drive you home.”

“i was gonna call my roommate to get me, it’s okay,” you insist, wiping out your phone again and scrolling to her name. you hear his footsteps approach you again, his hand reaching out slowly before gently falling onto your arm.

and even though you heard him, you still jump at the contact, what feels like an electric shock zipping through your skin you know is all in your head.

“c’mon, y/n, that’s not necessary. i’m here,” he whines slightly, eyes pleading and soft with a smile you’re trying so hard to resist. you lick over your dry lips and narrow your eyes slightly, letting out a sigh when you can tell he’s not letting up.

and it’s late. it’s so late and you’re tired and still have two papers to finish and edit tonight. you might as well, right?

“fine.”

he smiles happily before guiding you to the front door, watching you lock up before you silently walk to his car. he opens the passenger-side door and you give him a strange look, never having seen him do that before, before thanking him.

the car ride is quiet and awkward and cold for the first few minutes, you softly giving him directions before he turns on the heat and you sigh in relief. he side-eyes you as you put your hands to the vent, relishing in the hot air on your cold skin and he can’t help but smile at the sight.

“hands are still like icicles, i see.”

you look over and see the smirk on his face, probably remembering how when things were different, you’d warm your hands up on his skin despite his screams. sneak your hands under his shirt when you’d star gaze at night or hold onto his arm and giggle as he begged you to take them off him but never made any move to get them off.

“always,” you say shortly, a slightly strained but breathy giggle leaving your mouth that makes his heart pull in his chest.

the quiet hum of the car surrounds you both for the next few moments, an unspoken tenseness in the car from the reminder that, last time you were alone, he said he still loved you and you had a breakdown. he begged to be friends again and you left him without an answer.

an answer that’s now lingering between you two, trying to decide if this is gonna be something that’s able to be repaired in some way or you’re both gonna let the fond memories and old feelings die out.

you can’t even lie and say you weren’t going back and forth about it some nights, when your bed seemed too cold and memories were playing and, for some reason, your thoughts of mingi weren’t enough.

but you were terrified. every part of you was terrified to open this relationship back up just to possibly be hurt again. put your time and effort into him and make more memories that could potentially be tainted again.

you suppose that’s a risk with any relationship though, because mingi hurt you too and look at you two now; you don’t think your friendship with him has ever been stronger.

you let out a sigh as you wrack your brain, so lost in thought and the building ache in your temples that you’re barely able to hear wooyoung call your name.

“y/n?” he repeats, smiling softly when you look over at him in a daze and hum lowly.

“you good?”

“y-yeah,” you stutter, cheeks flushing a warm pink that wooyoung’s always sworn is the cutest thing about you. even more cute than when you stutter over your words or lick over your lips when you’re lost in thought.

“i...i was just thinking...” you continue a few moments later, your heart saying fuck it because your brain seemed to have lost this battle a while ago.

“about?” wooyoung prods gently, looking over at you as he stops at a red light; he can see your apprehensive, your quietness and shifting eyes one of the telltale signs.

“about...what we talked about the other night,” you say, peering over to see him watching you patiently, softly, so much like the way he’d watch you in the beginning.

“about trying to be friends.”

his eyebrow raises and he can feel a lump already forming in his throat, the smile he puts on his face one to disguise how fucking nervous he just became. because he was serious, no matter how selfish he’s realizing he is, if you tell him you don’t wanna be friends, he’s gonna respect that.

no matter how much it’ll pain him.

“and?” he asks, tightening his hand on the steering wheel when his eyes fall to your lips; watching as your tongue swipes over them before meeting his gaze again.

the look in his eyes makes more butterflies erupt in your stomach, a soft intensity that momentarily makes you forget everything he’s done; it also might be responsible for the next words that leave your mouth.

“i...think we can try.”

and you didn’t know it at the time but that was that sentence that sealed your fate for the next two months, mirroring the happy smile wooyoung throws your way as your heart lurches in your chest.

his hand twitches to take yours in his but he knows that’d be absolutely inappropriate so he only grips the steering wheel tighter, thanking you softly and promising that he’s not gonna fuck this up.

and for the next week, he doesn’t; you two fall into a schedule you would’ve never anticipated at the beginning of the school year.

he comes in a few hours before your shift ends, studies for finals with cups of coffee and desserts until he’s the last one in the building with you. he helps you clean and close up, his signature high-pitched laugh echoing through the empty walls when you smack him with a rag or yell at him for trying to steal another cookie.

he brings you home every night, your finger tips colliding as you warm your hands with the vents and smile shyly when the sensation from your skin meeting zips through you.

it’s a dark and clear night tonight, what seems like darker than any other december night, and there’s hundreds of stars in the sky. it’s something you both notice but don’t have the hearts to comment on, both of you catching the other peeking out the window or admiring the sight above you at a red light.

you bite down on your lip when he catches you, a blush creeping up on your face before you stutter out a question. the first one that comes to mind.

“you excited to be going back home?”

the smirk on his face is so obviously teasing but you don’t have the stomach to be snippy right now, grateful when he decides to play it nice tonight and answer without calling you out.

“how ‘bout you? your parents must be so happy.”

“they are. not happy that i’ll be using their car all break but i think they’re still happy,” you giggle out, wooyoung looking over at you an eyebrow raised.

“it’s still fucked?”

“yeah,” you sigh out with a shrug. “it’s okay though, it’ll definitely be fixed by the time i’m back for the spring.”

“that’s true but then how are you getting home tomorrow?”

and that’s how you ended up driving home for christmas break with wooyoung, his pleas, your apprehension, your parents confusion and mingi’s utter disapproval making the trip a very questionable one.

but it had made sense, you guess, saving your parents an hour drive to a destination wooyoung would be going to anyway.

“y/n, are you sure you’re okay with this?” mingi had asked, sitting atop your bed as you folded your clothes into a suitcase. you noticed the way the smile fell from his face when you told him, your stomach twisting as something that strangely felt like guilt began to surface.

but you shook it off and smiled softly at the boy, insisting that an hour with him would be okay.

“he’s been coming to work and driving me home every night this week, mingi, and i haven’t had a breakdown yet. it’ll be fine.”

the boy doesn’t find your comment assuring in the slightest, narrowing his eyes at you and feeling something pull in his chest. he doesn’t think you’ve realized how much you’ve drifted this week, small things that maybe he’s being too sensitive about or thinking too much into it.

but he’s wondering why you never asked him for a ride. or why the texts you’d usually send him about rude customers or funny co-workers have dwindled this week. he’s wondering why, for some god forsaken reason, your eyes are brighter and there’s a look on your face that just seems happier.

ignorance is bliss though and that’s why mingi just nods his head at you and opens his arms, smiling into your hair when you agree to take a quick 30-minute break for an episode that turns into almost three hours of cuddling and giggling.

“that’s not what happened at all!” you squeal, hitting wooyoung in the arm as he incorrectly recounts meeting your parents for the first time.

“there’s no way i did that!” he says, his lips quirked up and a laugh bubbling in his chest.

“you literally did! i almost died, that’s how i remember so well,” you screech, never forgetting that the first time you introduced a boy to your parents over dinner, he patted his lap and told you to take a seat.

wooyoung bursts out laughing the same way he did then, your mom looking at you two half in amusement and half in shock while your dad didn’t miss a beat and patted his lap for his wife in return; you were both pink in the face and smacked their arms playfully.

“your dad always liked me, i never understood why and now i certainly don’t.”

you bite down on your lip to control your growing smile, the two of you sharing memories the whole ride down.

it’s probably the worst thing to do at a time like this, where you’re both back in familiar settings, with a hundred different reminders and memories of one another. where you now only have each other and an old group of mutual friends with way too much free time you don’t know what to do with.

“you were funny i guess,” you tease lightly, a small giggle leaving your mouth when he side eyes you with mock annoyance. “remember when you got him the toilet golf for christmas?”

wooyoung throws his head back in laughter again and you both giggle and squeal for him to keep his eyes on the road, hitting him in the arm playfully as you tell him it’s still in his bathroom to this day.

“he’s probably real good now, too,” wooyoung says with a wink, the roll of your eyes making him bite back a smile of his own. “what’re you guys doing for christmas this year?”

you share holiday plans for the remainder of the car ride, telling him that you’ll be going to your aunt’s a few hours away from christmas to new years day. there’s only about five minutes left until you’re home when wooyoung’s next words stir you into shock.

“maybe we could hang out when you’re back. go ice skating or something.”

you press your lips together as you look at him, his face relaxed and eyes on the road like the suggestion had been the easiest thing in the world. you don’t know that, internally, he was kind of freaking out. hoping he didn’t just back track all the progress you guys have made, just within this car ride even.

ice skating was something you guys did last year together, your hand in his before you promptly fell on your ass but he saved you every time. you were still newly dating and it was all very sweet and pure, cheek kisses and awkward fumbling which were the telltale signs that you were a new couple in the honeymoon phase.

“i....”

the words seem caught in your throat, knowing you wanna say yes because friends ice skate. friend hang out like that, this shouldn’t be a new concept to you.

he can sense your apprehension and quickly meets your gaze, his face falling before he’s quickly shaking his head.

“only if you want to,” he smiles softly, an uncharacteristic shyness on his face and in his voice. “if you’re bored and got nothing else to do, ya know.”

not because he desperately wants to be with you during this break. not because hanging out with you this past week has been the happiest he’s felt since almost exactly a year ago.

“no, yeah, sure. that’d be nice,” you eventually stutter out, a smile breaking out across wooyoung’s face that calms all the anxiety and tension in your body. you can feel this attachment is wrong and unhealthy but it’s like you have no control over it anymore, blinded by him and the memories and the way he makes you feel.

the way you watch his car drive off after he walks you to the door, already buzzing with excitement for your...friendly outing with wooyoung in the next few weeks.

the holidays pass as quickly as they came and soon enough, you’re running around your room picking the finishing touches on your outfit as wooyoung is set to arrive in a few minutes. he had called you this morning after he woke up, telling you to dress warm and that he’d see you later tonight at six.

you hear your door bell ring and your eyes widen, moving to the clock to see he’s, surprisingly, five minutes early. you deem your matching boots and jacket good enough, running down the stairs and to the door.

you’re only faintly aware of the fact you can’t see his head through the top glass window the way you saw mingi’s when he came to your house last winter, shaking the memory from your head and smiling when you see wooyoung standing there with a cup of hot chocolate.

“hey b...y/n,” he smiles, his heart pulling in his chest so much he almost slipped up and forgot you’re only friends. but you just look so pretty and this feels a lot like a date, his stomach twisting and heart pounding in such a foreign way; he hasn’t been on a date since...

“hi! thank you, woo,” you smile softly, taking the cup from his hand and ushering him inside quickly. “just gotta find my keys. my parents are still at my aunts.”

“was hoping to see your dad, ask him about his golfing skills,” wooyoung teases, not coming to terms with the true anxiety and shame he feels knowing the older man definitely knows what he did to his daughter.

but if he does, you don’t make any indication of it; only smile at him and nod your head toward the couch, telling him you’ll be ready in a few minutes. he goes into the living room and smiles upon seeing your christmas tree light up with white lights and homemade ornaments.

your house smells of vanilla and the fireplace is crackling, a perfect warm contrast to the cold, biting weather outside. he plops down and watches the fire crackle, the heat warming his face and making him lean back with his eyes closed.

the warmth of the fire makes him melt further into the couch, sinking back into the comfortable couch until it almost feels like he could fall asleep.

you walk back in a few moments later and see the sight before you, your eyes widening and heart lurching because fuck. he has no right looking like that, sprawled out handsome and relaxed on your couch with the soft fire glowing on his face.

your eyes rack down his body quickly, his eyes closed and legs spread, head tipped back against the couch in a way that looks like he... you have to shake your head out of the daze, your own cheeks flushing because you feel like an absolute gawking pervert right now.

even though you’re painfully aware of how long it’s been since you last...

you shake your head again and make you way over, his eye peeking open upon hearing your footsteps, your pink cheeks and wet lips making him swallow and twitch in his seat; you look so fucking pretty tonight.

“hey,” he smiles, voice gruff and low as he looks you over. “you look nice.”

“you too,” you smile softly, your eyes moving from him to the roaring fire. “do you like it?”

but his eyes are still on you, roaming your body in a way that has his cock straining in his pants. he’s missed you and fuck has he missed those parts of you, too. he can see something behind your eyes but he’s not sure if it’s just his own lust creeping up on him, a hunger that he never thought he’d see again from you.

“like what?”

his voice is deep and gruff and sounds so rough, you have to stop the shudder from going through you. you can only swallow the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the sensation ripping between your legs as you look at him watching you.

with eyes so dark and lustful you can only hope that your own desire isn’t imagining it, staring back at him as you lick at your dry lips and remind yourself to breathe.

“th-the fire,” you say nodding your head toward the flames he was entranced by before. “do you like it?”

“oh,” he laughs out, the lump in his throat and growing arousal far too much right now. “yeah, i do. it’s nice.”

you nod your head as you look down and play with your fingers, bag hanging from your shoulder as you watch him from the middle of the room. the air is thick and the room feels 100 degrees, your heart pounding in your ears as you hear the whipping wind outside.

that’s where you guys should go right now. in the cold. around people. not alone in a hot space that’s only getting more and more tense.

“i...should we go or?”

he looks from you to the window to the fire and then back to you, a small pout on his face as he leans himself back on the couch. “five more minutes? it’s so fucking cold out and this is nice.”

you almost wanna say no because the tension is too thick right now but you also don’t know if you could move if you tried, nodding your head as a quiet “sure,” leaves your mouth.

the room is silent and you’re looking at him while he’s watching you, the need to swallow becoming more and more prevalent before you cock your head to the side.

“is it really cold out? should i wear something heavier?”

you know you don’t have to. this is your heaviest winter jacket, you just need to say fucking anything before you do something you might regret. or not regret at all, anything to feel relief and remember the way his lips feel against yours.

“no, that should be fine,” he says, smiling as he looks over your outfit and face again. “you look good. really good.”

a shy smile crosses your face and you feel a blush creep up on your face, looking down at your boots that may or may not be new.

“thanks. so do you,” you say softly, meeting his gaze and biting down on your lip when he smiles teasingly at you.

“is that why you’re all the way over there?”

your eyes narrow and breath hitches and you almost think he knows how much he’s effecting you right now. how long it’s been since you’ve had any sort of contact with another person that wasn’t completely platonic or pure.

“shut up,” you mumble, taking a few small steps toward the couch but still keeping your distance. he raises an eyebrow almost challengingly and that’s when you feel yourself growing more suspicious, cocking your head to the side as you blatantly look him over.

you watch him roll his tongue over his lips before looking into the fire place, that familiar tick in his jaw and neck making you smirk before feigning innocence again.

“you really like that, don’t you?”

his eyes raise to you, not a trance of teasing or amusement on his face as he look at you. it’s all dark and lustful and you don’t know where this is all coming from but it’s creeping up on you fast.

“the fire, i mean,” you add, nodding your head toward the furnace again.

his eyes narrow and jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into your lip to stop the smirk from creeping back up on your face; but it must not help completely because you watch a different sort of look cover wooyoung’s face.

one you haven’t seen in a long time.

“a lot of smart ass remarks for someone who’s standing across the room,” he bites back, eyes widening and cock twitching when you shrug your shoulders and are suddenly standing right in front of the couch.

you can only look down at him with a small smirk on your face, eyebrow’s raised as if to say now what are you gonna say? but you should know by now that wooyoung is almost never speechless or action-less, spreading his legs out on the couch just a little bit more before a teasing smile crosses his face.

he repeats the actions he did that first day meeting your parents, tapping his lap again as he licks over his lips and tells you your seat is still here. he knows it’s a risk and so do you but it doesn’t stop you from looking over his body, everything in you screaming that if you do this, there’s no going back.

you’re gonna be back to where you were months ago, caught in a cycle of worry and fear and all-consuming emotions, something dangerous and draining when a person like him knows they have power over you.

but right now, after the past three months of going back and forth with him and sorting through your emotions, you just wanna forget everything. turn your brain off for a second and do something, anything, that’s gonna make you feel something other than sadness and anger and confusion.

“come here.”

the command is gruff and deep and makes your lower stomach swoop, your fingers falling to zip off your jacket before your bag lands on the floor with a plop and you’re straddling your cheater of an ex-boyfriend right on your living room couch.

your lips collide and he groans at the same time you moan into his mouth, a mess of open-mouthed kisses and tongues that feel so pent up and natural, it’s like neither of your brains are on.

when you move against him and feel his hard cock under you, it only spurs you on to do it more. press your body into him and wrack your fingers through his hair.

he growls into your mouth and places his hands on your hips, his finger tips digging into your shirt as he disconnects your lips for air and travels down your neck.

his kisses are wet and sloppy but you throw your head back anyway, every part of your body burning and begging and aching to be touched by him. and it’s like he knows it, he still knows every part of your body better than you or anyone else in the world, sucking a hickie into your neck as his hands cup your ass.

“jesus christ, y/n,” he growls into your skin, your eagerness and closeness and warm body against his making all the blood go right to his cock. you can feel it pressing harder against you and let out a whine, pulling his face away from your neck so you can crash your lips against his again.

it’s a flurry of kissing and sucking and biting, your own hands ripping your shirt over your head before wooyoung’s face is in your chest and sucking hickies onto your skin. you lean your head back and let out a whine, your hand tightening in his hair before you push him back and pull at the bottom of his shirt.

he can only smirk at the pout on your face, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your cheek. “still so fucking good for me, aren’t you?” he hums lowly, waiting until you nod for him to pull his shirt off and place a smack on your ass.

it echoes through your empty house and you let out a whine, pushing yourself against him before he takes your face in his hand.

“and you’ve only been good for me still, right?” he asks lowly, his voice deep and possessive in a way you’ve never heard before. it sends butterflies right through your stomach and in between your legs, wetness pooling in your underwear as he tightens his hold on you. “no one else has fucked you, right?”

and you know that should be the tipping point.

you know you should rip yourself away from him and slap him again, ask him why the fuck that matters when you know for a fact he’s been with someone else too. he’s been with someone while lying to you and acting as if everything was okay. that you were never indebted to him after the breakup and you still aren’t now.

but instead, you shake your head and look at him all wide-eyed and glossy, your breathy “only you have fucked me,” making him growl before flipping you over and ridding you from the rest of your clothes.

he falls to his knees before pulling to the edge of the couch and devouring your dripping pussy, his tongue lapping at you in a way that makes you scream out and push yourself against him. your stomach is tightening and legs are shaking and you can’t stop the moans that are leaving your mouth, repeating his name like a mantra as he slips a finger in.

“oh god, baby,” he growls against your wetness, your hole so tight around his finger he can’t wait to be buried inside of you.

“let- let me ride you,” you beg despite the way you’re still pushing yourself on his face. it’s a pleasure you don’t ever want to stop but you also wanna feel him inside you, missing so desperately what it feels like to be full of his cock.

“ah, ah, you gotta come on my tongue first,” he demands lowly, curling his finger inside of you and making you cry out. “you’ve been such a good girl for me. don’t get bad now.”

“b-but i wanna-”

he sucks your clit into his mouth and you scream out, legs shaking and hips bucking into his face before your orgasm hits and you’re shaking against the couch.

you barely have time to catch your breath before he lifts you up and pulls you on top of him, guiding you over his cock before you sink down on him and you both moan out at the same time.

“oh my god,” you whine out at the same time he grunts “fuck,” your movements slow and easy as you adjust to his size in you. but once the slight sting has dulled and he feels you relax slightly, he pulls your face to his and connects your lips.

“now ride me, baby. i know you’ve missed sitting on my cock, haven’t you?”

with your hands gripping the back of the couch, you nod as you start to lift your hips up and down, leaning forward every so slightly so you can feel something against your already stimulated clit.

“answer me. who’s are you? who’s cock have you missed sitting on?”

“y-you, wooyoung. you. i’ve- i’ve missed your cock,” you whine, your hips moving more frantically the more you bounce up and down on him. your breaths are labored and the room feels at least 30 degrees hotter, his grunts and groans and your high-pitched yelps filling the festive living room.

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this tight pussy again,” he growls out, when he feels himself getting close and needs you to come again before he can release inside of you. “i...you’re mine, baby. you fucking get that now, don’t you? you’re mine. and you’ll always be mine.”

“yes,” you whine out, frantically moving against him before moaning out when he starts fucking up into you. “yes, yes, yes. yours, wooyoung. p-please come, let me come, i wanna feel you-”

his last final grunt cuts you off and you feel your own orgasm take over, both of you riding out your highs and moaning each other’s names over and over until your ears are ringing and hearts are pounding in your chests.

you’re faintly aware of his hand rubbing up and down your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your head before he pulls out of you and lays on the couch.you close your eyes and let out a tiny whine at his exit, a small smile lingering on wooyoung’s face as he grabs a baby wipe from the bathroom to clean between your legs.

you smile lazily at him when you see him between your legs, cheeky fuck he is placing a teasing kiss between on your clit as he walks away laughing at your squeal.

he collapses on top of you when he’s back, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you completely and places another kiss on your neck. he peppers them down your skin and you can only smile, still on the high of your orgasm and feeling loved that you can’t register all the other emotions fighting to break through.

fear and confusion and maybe even slight panic, realizing you just gave in and fucked the life out of the ex-boyfriend you know you’re supposed to hate.

the doorbell ringing is the first thing that brings you back to reality a few minutes later, jumping up and nearly smacking wooyoung in the head had he not also lifted his head. his eyes are wide but not as bad as you, a smirk on his face as he asks if you’re expecting company.

“i don’t think so?” you say, pulling on your jeans before you start to frantically search for your shirt. wooyoung’s quick to throw you his, a knowing smile on your face because you remember how much he loved to see you in his clothes after you guys had sex.

and that hasn’t seemed to change.

“it’s definitely not my parents, they’d just use their key,” you assure him, attempting to fix your messy sexy hair that wooyoung’s always thought was the sexiest shit. “i’ll be right back.”

as you walk through the kitchen and peer out the front door, it feels like time stops when you see a familiar head of hair through the window. it’s like an exact parallel of the day mingi came to see you when you guys made up, except you hadn’t just fucked wooyoung on your couch.

and sure enough when you open the door, there mingi is with a handful of flowers and a large cup of tea in hand.

“hey! sorry i’m late, i can’t believe how much-”

his face drops the moment he takes in your appearance, messy hair, flushed pink cheeks, hickies on your neck, and an inside-out t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination of what you just got done doing.

“traffic there was,” mingi finishes quietly, staring back at your surprised, shocked face in a way that makes his heart drop in his chest - you didn’t remember.

“i...hi,” is all you dumbly say, the high from before quickly vanishing as you stare at mingi who’s looking more broken-hearted and confused by the second. it’s already making you wanna cry, his usually starry eyes dim and confused as he looks you over.

“did...you forget i was coming?” he laughs out, humor in his tone that sounds so horribly masked you have to hold back tears.

“happy new year, y/n! let’s hope this year brings us-”

your aunts words are cut off by blaring of your phone, mingi’s name popping up on your screen making a smile break out across your face; you’re not surprised he’s the first one calling to welcome you into the new year.

“you should get that,” your aunt smirks, a blush on your cheeks as you shake your head and tell her it’s not like that.

but she thinks the smile on your face says otherwise, the giggles and laughs and the way you throw your head back as you talk to the person on the other end of the phone.

“i should be back in two days, you can come see me then drama queen,” you smile into the phone, mingi’s whiney complaints that he misses you so much, he doesn’t think he remembers what you even look like. “i’ll be home around six, i expect you there with flowers and a hot beverage.”

“oh my god.”

guilt like you’ve never experienced rushes through you all at once, face pale and mouth open as tears build up behind your eyes. mingi can see them building and already knows what’s happening, a lump forming so tight in his throat he can only shake his head.

“it’s okay, y/n.”

because he saw the car across the street; he thought, maybe, it was a coincidence - ignorance is bliss, after all, but he knew your reaction was gonna be the only thing he needed to see. and the tears in your eyes makes it pretty obvious what’s going on right now.

“wait. no mingi, it’s not. please. just let me-”

“no, it’s okay, really. i- i should’ve told you i was still coming. how were you supposed to know?”

“we talked two days ago. i- i remember talking and planning it, i just...”

wooyoung called me, too. wooyoung called me and asked to go ice skating and it was like after that, everything else was gone from your memory. you were so consumed by that you forgot you were supposed to-

“it’s okay,” he assures again, a small sad smile on his face as he holds out the flowers and drinks. “consider it a special delivery.”

and when you don’t take it, just continue to stare blankly at him, he places the drink and flowers on the steps and turns around wordlessly. because he’s not about to break down and have this conversation with wooyoung in the house, have you explain yourself when he obviously misunderstood things here.

he’s just about to his car door when he hears your footsteps running after him, his eyes closing tight to fight off the few small tears building in his eyes.

“mingi, wait. please wait, i-”

“it’s fine, y/n. i...i was stupid,” he laughs out humorlessly, turning around and looking over your already tear-stained face. “i misunderstood and that’s okay. i...we never officially said we were doing hanging out and i-”

“you didn’t misunderstand anything,” you’re quick to tell him, your mind completely clear as you take in mingi’s dejected face; you know you’re both not only talking about tonight’s plans.

you’re talking about the past ten months together. the friendship you built and the lingering touches and smiles. the way you made each other feel so safe and content and at ease. the way you only ever really smiled and laughed around one another.

his face looks familiar now though. his entire demeanor looks familiar, except you think you recognize more because you remember feeling like you looked a lot like that last winter. like you saw something you shouldn’t have and felt hurt in a way no one’s hurt you before.

and you think those might’ve been the wrong words to say because within the next few silent seconds, mingi’s face morphs from devastation to the smallest hint of anger you’ve ever seen from him.

“don’t say that.”

tears fall from your eyes and you feel like you can’t breathe, watching him grip the handle of his door like he’s dying to get the fuck in his car and away from your house.

“if...if i didn’t misunderstand anything, y/n, then i... this...” mingi shakes his head because he can’t even fathom this whole situation right now. but he knew from the beginning your relationship was very up in the air, the two of you never officially claiming to be anything.

“we never talked about anything. our feelings or the kiss, so i did misunderstand things,” mingi confirms again, because this rationalization is easier. not feeling the need to hate you and yell at you and ask what the fuck you were thinking is easier.

“i thought you were just...you know, figuring it out still so i didn’t wanna pressure you. but maybe that was wrong, maybe you just never wanted-”

“mingi, please. no. i know this looks bad but we can-”

“y/n?”

wooyoung’s voice makes you both freeze, you keeping your gaze on mingi while his goes to the boy at the door. you can’t see the challenging look in wooyoung’s eyes or the smug look on his face, mingi’s hand tightening on the door as he tells you he’s leaving now.

“what?” you cry out, eyes wide and watery as you shake your head frantically.

you know you’re being unfair and you know this is over but you can’t help but hold onto just for a second longer, your heart pulling so horribly in your chest, you’re not sure you’ve felt pain like this before.

“i’m leaving, y/n. get away from my car, okay?”

he keeps his voice soft and sweet and quiet, begging you to just go back to wooyoung as he keeps his eyes trained away from the boy. because he knows if he looks at him again, he’s gonna run over and beat the shit out of him.

“mingi, please, i didn’t-”

“it doesn’t matter anymore,” mingi says coldly, voice a bit harsher and louder. “just get away from my car.”

“i know it looks bad but please, mingi, please, i didn’t mean to-”

“get the fuck away from me.”

your face falls and lower lip quivers, mingi’s face crumbling before he runs his hand over his face. he takes a few deep, calming breaths before his large hand cups your face, daring wooyoung to come over and say something right now, as his thumb runs over your cold skin and wipes at the wetness.

“i’m sorry. i just...i have to go.”

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you blurt out, knowing and seeing clear as day that’s what happened. “i didn’t know... we never said...i...”

you don’t know what to say but you know this all feels very fucking wrong. you know that you feel like you messed up one of the best friendships and relationships you’ve ever had, the pulling feeling deep within your gut making you wanna vomit.

“i know, y/n, it’s okay,” he assures gently, his hand falling from your face and making you feel ten degrees colder. “i just gotta go, okay? please.”

your face crumbles as you find that you can’t look away from him, only backing away when he’s able to open the door and wedge himself in.

he turns on his car and puts it drive before he can even put his seatbelt on, his eyes never leaving yours until he’s taking off down the block and suddenly the neighborhood is quiet.

you hear footsteps making their way up behind you but can’t move from your spot, staring at the spot his car just occupied before arms wrap around your body.

you can feel now that they’re far too cold and far too short and feel far too wrong. how could you have not felt this before? known that this just didn’t feel right?

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch mingi’s fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses his face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

“i’m happy you’re mine again,” wooyoung whispers in your ear, his breath ghosting over your lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “we can work through this, okay? you know how much i love you, baby.”

but do you really know that? what about when the next girl comes along, with dark hair and a pretty smile and makes him feel so desired, he just tells you that again because he knows, in the end, you’ll believe him?

the end

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @minbinwhore @chrryhwa @chogiout @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @toffee-hwa

#this is so twisted and toxic #but alas angst won again <3 #dont take back a cheater irl!!#the love alarm s2 debacle was also very self indulgent #wooyoung #mingi #wooyoung angst #mingi angst #ateez angst #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #mingi scenarios #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #ateez smut

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