#IT'S HARD OUT HERE FOR US COMMITMENT-PHOBIC HOES!!!!!!

[strongermonster]

the housing market sucks for all of us for a lot of reasons, but a reason near and dear to my heart is that i should be living alone in a small wartime house that i have all to myself to do whatever i please with and invite over whomever i want, instead of spending $30 on taxi fare to go fuck somebody on the other side of town because because we're both stuck living with other people but his roommates just left for work

[silverlightqueen]

Ruin My Life - Part 7

RML masterlist

fratboy!Jimin - angst (a lot of it too sksks), fluff, humour, smut (but not in this chapter)

Summary - y/n has some more tears left to cry, Mija hoes it up, Eunwoo makes a reappearance, a hero appears to save the day, and Namjoon is a good friend - ft. Jungkook back at it again with the ‘noona!’

Word Count - 9k+

Warnings - you will hate Jimin after this (but give him a chance), drinking, Joon and Mija being good friends again, crying, powerful men, Jungkook being cute.. uh, that’s it, lol (there will be smut in the next chapter and, be warned, it will be... hardcore)

a/n: this is unedited (as per usual sksks) but uh lmk what y’all think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist x

taglist💕: @keylowmonie @jennafromhome @btrombley13 @springday51818

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘y/n?’ Mija’s voice breaks through my slumber, making me wake up almost instantly. ‘Babe, what are you doing here? Have you been here all night?’ she asks me as I sit up, stretching as I blink. I take in my surroundings, the corner of the library amongst the astrology books that no one ever uses, and nod, remembering this being my only escape last night. Escape from the sympathetic looks, the comforting words, the prying questions, the sad and pitying friends. Escape from Jimin. It’s been a month since I saw Jeongyeon leaving Jimin’s room, and a tough month it’s been. He hasn’t gone an hour without calling or texting me, and now he’s resorted to waiting outside my lectures for me. I’ve had to beg my lecturers to let me use the back entrance and then practically sprint home. I haven’t been to any parties or bars since it happened, practically becoming a recluse. The boys have all begun blowing up my phone too, and trying to track me down, because I haven’t spoken to any of them either. I’ve had a full frat boy cleanse, and I feel better off for it. The abortion went well, too. The procedure was quick and painless, just as Dr Choi had said, and I only had a little bit of bleeding and stomach cramps for a couple days afterwards. I’m just worried about Chungae opening her big mouth, but surely, she has more sense than that. 

‘I was so worried when you didn’t come home last night. Jimin came looking for you,’ Mija says, taking the seat beside me. ‘I know. That’s why I didn’t come back. I saw him going into our block, and I couldn’t face him, so I came here,’ I say, and she places a hand on my back. ‘He said he was worried about you. He said you’ve been avoiding him and his friends, too. He said he thinks you’re angry at him, that he’s done something wrong,’ she says, and my heart aches at her words. He’s right; I am angry at him and he has done something wrong, but I still… care for him. I still don’t want him to be hurting. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He was supposed to just move on from me. I sigh, tears pricking at my eyes, and she pulls me into her arms. ‘I’m so sorry, babe. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this,’ she says soothingly as I try to hold back the tears. 

‘Maybe you should confront him now, y/n,’ she suggests, and I sit back, raising my eyebrows at her. ‘I really hope you’re joking because it’s way too late for that now,’ I reply. ‘No, just think about it. What have you got to lose? You can explain to him why you’ve been avoiding him and then he’ll leave you alone, so you don’t have to hide from him,’ she says, and I shake my head, the prospect of speaking to him making me feel sick. ‘You can’t stay like this forever. Avoiding him all the time,’ she says. ‘We’ve only got a few months left here, and I managed to do it for two years, so I’ll be fine,’ I reply, sniffling. ‘Yeah, because he let you. This time, he won’t. He’ll corner you one day. Then, what will you do?’ she challenges. ‘Get out of it. He’ll give it up eventually,’ I reply. ‘I don’t know, y/n. If I were you, I’d do it. I think you’ll regret it if you don’t. And you say you’re over the Jeongyeon thing, right? Why don’t you tell him about your feelings. You can say that you’re angry with him sleeping with her, but you’re willing to overlook it because of the way you feel towards him. It’s not great, but if it makes you happy, why not? I know he likes you, y/n. He always says that if he were to be with someone, it would be you. Every time he talks about not wanting to be in a relationship, it’s not because he doesn’t like you; it’s because he’s commitment-phobic,’ she says, and I sigh. ‘Listen, Mija, I want to tell him. Of course I do, because there will always be that little part of me that has hope, that thinks ‘what if’, but there’s no point. He’s told me time and time again, he’s not the relationships kind of guy. I’ll be setting myself up to fail. And I can’t just let him get away with what he did with Jeongyeon,’ I say. 

‘It wouldn’t hurt you to just tell him the truth, y/n. As much as he doesn’t deserve pity, just imagine how he feels right now. One of his closest friends, an important person in his life, someone he cherishes a lot, suddenly broke things off with him by just not speaking to him anymore and has been avoiding him for the past month. He must feel pretty shitty. But so he should, I guess. At least, if you speak to him, confront him, confess to him, whatever it is you choose to do, you can put him out of that misery,’ she says, and I digest her words, realising that she’s right. Jimin is all about validation, so the fact that I’ve cut him off must not bode well for his self-esteem and confidence. I bet he feels shit. ‘You’re right,’ I groan. ‘Speak to him, y/n. You’ll regret it if you don’t,’ she says. And this time, I nod, knowing she’s right. ‘Where is he?’ I ask. ‘They’ve got football training, out on the pitch,’ she says, and I stand up quickly, knocking over my chair. ‘Wait, you’re gonna go speak to him now?’ she asks, taken aback, her eyes wide. ‘If I don’t now, I’ll lose the confidence and then I never will,’ I say, and she nods, still looking quite shocked. ‘Wait. Please can we stop at the bathroom on the way. I just… I have to fix your hair before you go. I’ve got all my stuff with me,’ she says, and I nod with a sigh, knowing it won’t make the best impression if I go speak to Jimin with bird’s nest hair. We dash out of the library, stopping at the toilets, where Mija drags a brush through my hair and slaps some moisturiser and foundation on my face. Followed by concealer, and contour, and brows, and mascara, and highlight, and lipstick, and- ‘Mija! I haven’t got all day!’ I exclaim. ‘Sorry, sorry, let’s go,’ she says, both of us dashing out of the bathroom, and out of the block. ‘I swear to God, life is not on our side right now!’ Mija nearly screams when we step out into the rain. I supress a laugh, knowing there was no point in her beautifying me, and start to drag her down towards the pitch. 

As we get closer, my eyes scan the pitch, looking for Jimin, the butterflies in my stomach getting worse by the second. ‘There he is,’ Mija says, pointing to where he stands in the middle of the pitch, chatting to Jungkook. His hair is pasted to his forehead due to the rain, his shirt and shorts clinging to his body, and I try not to let that distract me from what I came to do. It feels like I’ve lost control of my legs, my feet taking steps when I’d much rather be walking the other way. Jungkook spots me first, nudging Jimin who turns to see me marching purposefully towards him, my stomach turning, rain pouring down onto us all. Jungkook steps away when I near Jimin, leaving the two of us alone. ‘Jimin, I have something to say to you,’ I say, the boys pausing their game, all of them watching us with interest, too far away to hear any of my words. I feel like I’m going to be sick, motivated by some weird surge of confidence that only slightly outweighs my urge to run back inside. ‘y/n, I’ve been trying to speak to you for the last month, and you choose now? This isn’t the time,’ he says tiredly, and his reluctance to speak to me is unexpected, making me feel sick inside. ‘Please, Jimin. If I don’t say it now, I never will,’ I plead, and he sighs before nodding, wiping some of the rain from his face. And then it hits me. I am totally, completely, head-over-heels in love with this boy. Even his sleeping with Jeongyeon hasn’t put me off him in the slightest; and all of the things I wanted to shout and scream at him about dissolve on my tongue. And I know exactly what it is I want to say to him.

‘You said to me, that day in the library, that we should sleep together, one last time, unless I caught feelings again, remember?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘Well, I broke the deal, Jimin. I fell for you in those few days we spent together. Harder and harder by the minute, until I was so consumed by my feelings for you that it hurt to even be around you, knowing you weren’t, and would never be, mine. So I used other stupid excuses and distanced myself from you, to try and get over you, to protect myself from the heartbreak, but my feelings for you have only grown in this last month. So that’s why I’m here,’ I say, and take a step towards him, leaving us mere inches apart. This close, I can see the water droplets on his face, the curling eyelashes that frame sparkling brown eyes. If we were any closer, I’m sure he’d be able to hear how hard my heart is beating. 

‘I’m done. I’m done protecting myself, shielding myself, trying to stop the hurt. Because that’s life. And it’s only making me unhappy. So I give you permission, Jimin,’ I say, taking his hand in mine and pressing his hand to my chest. ‘My heart is yours. Do what you want with it. Look after it, keep it safe, or break it. I don’t care. I’ve missed you over this past month, almost more than I could bear. I’ve missed you annoying me, pushing me close to the edge all the time. I’ve missed the other side of the bed being taken by you, because it’s been empty and cold, and I hate it. I’ve missed your eyes, your body, your smile, your scent, your taste, the way you run your hands through your hair, the way you used to put your arms around me, the way our legs used to tangle together, and you used to hold me close to you. I’ve missed every single part of you, and I can’t handle it anymore. I’ve missed you more than I should have, and I hope you’ve been missing me too. I just want you to come back to me. I want you to fuck up my nights, bring it all on, make everything wrong. I was so scared of you ruining my life, but now that’s changed. Because I want you to ruin my life, Park Jimin,’ I say, almost all in one breath, holding his hand against my heart the entire time, our eyes locked together. It’s almost like the world has stopped, just the two of us in the pouring rain, my words floating in the air between us. 

And then my world falls apart. 

‘y/n, I’m sorry,’ he breathes out, pulling his hand away and taking a step back from me. ‘Jimin,’ I whisper, feeling my heart ache. ‘I just… I can’t,’ he says, eyes dark and hard, face set with no emotion. ‘Jimin, I don’t care if you don’t think you’re good for me, or if you’re not the relationships kinda guy. Just give us a try,’ I plead, my voice wobbling, knowing how desperate I sound. ‘y/n, stop,’ he says, turning his head away from me, and I take another step towards him. ‘No, Jimin, please just give us a chance. I know we can work,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘I… I slept with Jeongyeon,’ he says, and I show no reaction, registering the surprise in his face at my lack of anger or sadness… or anything. ‘I know, Jimin. And I don’t care,’ I say, watching his mouth fall open before he closes it swiftly. ‘You don’t care? y/n, that’s not you. You’d never allow someone to cheat on you,’ he says, confused. ‘Yeah, but it wasn’t cheating. We weren’t together. Just one chance, Jimin,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘Tell me what’s making you say no, and I’ll try to fix it, change it,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘You can’t, y/n,’ he says, and I can see him hesitating. ‘Why?’ I demand, heart hurting. ‘Nothing can change the fact that… that I’m not in love with you,’ he says, the words breaking my heart into two. I take a step back from him, my hands balled up together at my chest as the words resound in my ears. ‘y/n,’ he says, reaching out towards me, and I flinch away from his touch, the way he retracts his hand physically hurting me. ‘y/n, please,’ he says, and I shake my head, looking up at him, my eyes meeting his, trying to see any kind of deceit in them. But there’s nothing. Nothing but cold, hard truth. ‘No, Jimin. You made me believe we had something. You strung me along, kept me as your little toy just so you could break my heart in the end. Planning our family, our kids, our life together. Staying the morning after, the afternoon after, even the night after. Taking me out to dinner, giving me a promise ring, calling me pet names. Confiding in me, trusting me, being vulnerable with me. I thought it was genuine, I thought you cared for me. But you were just using me. How long did you plan to use me, Jimin? Until the next pretty girl walked into your life? Until you fell in love with someone, someone that never would’ve been me, which you knew all along?’ I demand, hysterically, the tears that fall down my face mingling with the rain. He stays silent, staring at me blankly, and it’s like I can see his walls going up, blocking me out in the cold like I’ve never been before. ‘And, the worst thing is that after all this, after me being the one hurting and in love, I’ll still be the one hurting. You can just continue on with your perfect life, find someone to replace me with. But you’re irreplaceable in my life, Jimin,’ I sob, whole body shaking with my tears. ‘y/n,’ he says, staring at me with an unreadable expression, and I shake my head. ‘Fuck you,’ I whisper, turning away from him and marching off the pitch, tears still streaming down my face, head held high. 

‘You’re not gonna like what I’ve got to say,’ Mija says from the door of my bedroom, and I pause Dynasty on Fallon’s face, scrunched up in irritation. I can’t say I blame her for pulling the slightly unattractive face; life is pretty shit at the moment, for the both of us. ‘Don’t say it, then,’ I reply, and Mija rolls her eyes. ‘You know I’m gonna say it anyway,’ she says, slowly making her way into my room, keeping a safe distance from my bed. ‘You’re a mess,’ she says bluntly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘What’s new?’ I ask, and she shakes her head. ‘I’m serious, y/n. You’ve missed like a week’s worth of lectures, not to mention all the parties, and everyone has been asking about you. They’re all worried, y/n, and so am I. You’ve been wearing those clothes for over a week. You haven’t showered. Your hair looks like a birds’ nest, no exaggeration. You’ve been eating nothing but junk food, not a single piece of fruit, so I can’t even imagine how constipated you must be. Your room stinks of stale food and, I’m sorry to say it but, body odour. When was the last time you brushed your teeth, or washed your face, or dragged a comb through your hair? I get that you’re heartbroken, but it’s gone too far now. It’s time for me to intervene,’ Mija says, each word hitting me like a ton of bricks; she’s right, I am a mess. 

It’s been a week and three days since Jimin brutally rejected me on the football pitch. Since then, I have not left my room except to get my takeaways from the front door. My phone has been blowing up; texts and calls from the ASP boys (except Jimin obviously), people in my classes, loads of our sorority friends, our accommodation neighbours, Eunwoo and other boys from his frat. It seems everyone’s heard about what a sad embarrassment I am. And Mija’s right; as disgusting as it is, I haven’t showered or brushed my hair or teeth. I really am the definition of a mess. Yes, it’s been hard, but it’s no excuse to live like this. ‘Fuck, I’m vile,’ I mutter, throwing the covers off me, the sound of cellophane and plastic crunching from all the empty food packets on my bed, and jump up onto my feet. ‘Do not come any closer,’ Mija says, holding out a hand, her other hand covering her nose. ‘Sorry,’ I say sheepishly, going past her into my en suite. I peel off all my clothes and throw them straight into the bin, knowing no amount of fabric softener and washing powder will ever make me want to wear them again (good thing they’re only sweats). I climb into the shower, not caring what the temperature of the water is and let it pour down over my head, just standing there for minutes. Then I shampoo my hair three times (it needed it, trust me) and wash my body four times (needed it too) before conditioning twice, trying to restore my usually perfect hair to itself again. Once I’m done in the shower (after around an hour), I brush my teeth and then head back into my bedroom wrapped up in a towel to find it clean again, Mija stood in the middle of the room wearing one of my masks over her face and gloves on her hands. My bed is stripped of its sheets, presumably being washed, and a black bag sits beside the door, probably full of empty Chinese food boxes, curry containers and pizza boxes. ‘You’re welcome,’ she says before I can even thank her. ‘Thank you, best best-friend-in-the-world,’ I say, throwing my arms around her and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. ‘God, you actually smell good again,’ she says, and I shove her jokingly. 

‘Right, I’ve got something else to say that you won’t like,’ she says, and I lift an eyebrow. ‘Is that why you’ve cleaned my room?’ I ask. ‘No. Okay, maybe,’ she says sheepishly, and I roll my eyes. ‘Hit me with it,’ I say, bracing myself. ‘I want you to come out with me tonight,’ she says tentatively. ‘Oh. No,’ I say, sitting down atop my bed, and she sighs. ‘Please, y/n. We used to go out together every weekend. We’ve missed like eight weekends in a row,’ she says, and my shoulders drop from tiredness. ‘Mija, I’m really not in the mood to go to any frat parties tonight, and sorority parties are always shit, you know that. I don’t want to run into anyone,’ I say, and her eyes light up. ‘I am so glad you said that, because now you can’t say no. I don’t want you to go to a party with me; I wanna go to a bar. And you can’t say no, so start getting ready,’ she says, heading towards the door. ‘Oh, and wear something nice! I’m wearing my black bodycon dress with the black and white racer jacket!’ she calls over her shoulder. I sigh, heading over to my wardrobe and throwing it open, eyes scanning over the countless items I’ve never worn due to being self-conscious. And then I make a decision. Fuck it; I’m turning into a hoe tonight, and ain’t no one gonna stop me. 

‘Damn, girl, is that a second skin?’ Mija asks when I walk into the living room, looking me up and down appreciatively. ‘You know it. I’m going full hoe mode tonight, teetering on whore mode,’ I say, and Mija’s eyebrows raise, eyes wide. ‘Okay, I gotchu, sis, I gotchu. We gon’ find you a man tonight, no little boys for you, baby girl,’ Mija says, and I shoot her a wide smile, on her wave length. I desperately need a rebound. I’m dressed in a pair of jeans that don’t quite reach my ankle, so tight that if I breathe out too aggressively, the button will fly off and hit somebody in the face, and a black wraparound crop top, showing off a little bit of stomach and a lot of cleavage. On my feet are a pair of black sock boots, a gold choker around my neck and gold hoops in my ears. I don’t carry a bag, knowing I’ll probably leave it somewhere, and my phone is tucked into my front jeans pocket. I don’t have any money with me because I don’t need it; I can get an uber on my phone, I have apple pay if I decide to get a kebab or something on the way home, and I’ll be getting gullible men to buy me drinks tonight (okay, I might be a feminist, but that doesn’t mean I’m opposed to a man paying for me if he so wishes, alright? Don’t judge me). ‘Right, let’s go, then,’ Mija says, both of us heading out of the apartment and sneaking down to where our Uber is waiting before our enthusiastic RA sees us and interrogates us as to where we’re going. We jump into the Uber, the short ride to the bar taken up by us taking selfies and videos for Snapchat (gotta let everyone know I’m still a bad bitch). 

When we arrive, the queue is relatively long to get in considering it’s the least trashy bar in the area, and we trudge to the back of the queue, Mija cussing me out for taking so long to get ready otherwise we already would’ve been inside, hoeing it up. And then someone shouts after us, both of us turning to look. ‘Hey, y/n! Mija!’ Chen from KPN says, waving at us from the door of the bar. The bouncer looks between us suspiciously. ‘Y’all gotta queue, you know?’ the bouncer says, and Chen smiles at him. ‘They were with me, and I’m VIP,’ Chen says, holding up a VIP card that I didn’t know existed for this bar. ‘Then what are y’all doing outside?’ the bouncer asks sceptically, and Chen laughs. ‘They were having a smoke,’ Chen replies. ‘Fine, go in,’ the bouncer says, Mija and I exchanging a glance as we follow Chen in. ‘Thanks, Chen, you’re a real one,’ I say to the boy who grins at us. ‘No problem. It’s not like it inconvenienced me anyway. You two look nice,’ he says, looking us up and down as he leads us towards the bar. ‘Thanks, Chen. So do you,’ I reply, admiring the boy’s ass in his jeans. As much as I find Chen ridiculously attractive, trying to get him into bed would be fruitless, considering he’s gay. Though, that fact isn’t common knowledge; I only know from when I was dating Eunwoo and accidently stumbled into the wrong bedroom after a very long night to find Chen and a very handsome stranger lying in bed together. Well, doing more than just lying anyway. Long story short, Chen freaked out, told the guy to leave because no one knew he was gay, and I told him to relax and that I wouldn’t tell anyway, to get back to business and then I left. We’ve never spoken about it since, and I remained true to my word, not breathing a single thing about him to anyway, not even my boyfriend at the time. 

‘What do you two want to drink?’ he asks, clasping onto my hand and dragging me through the throng of people waiting for drinks. They let him through to the front because he’s ridiculously handsome and life’s unfair that way, and I reach a hand out to pull Mija through with me before realising she’s already disappeared. ‘Well, Mija’s gone, but I want the hard stuff. Hit me with the shots, Chen,’ I say, taking a seat at a stool, my hand still in Chen’s as he orders two shots of tequila, one each, flashing his VIP card. ‘How did you get a VIP card?’ I ask him, and he grins. ‘Dad’s best mate own the bar, so I get drinks on the house and free entry for my friends and myself,’ he says, and I nod, impressed. ‘Well, I might be gracing the bar with my presence more often now,’ I say, Chen laughing as the bartender puts the shots down beside us. We clink the glasses together, downing them in one, and as I put the glass back down, my eyes focus on the group of people dancing in the middle of the bar to the obscure RnB song playing in the background. Or rather, my eyes focus on Jimin in the group of people dancing, his hands on a girl, dick pressed against her ass. My heart stops, and then I feel rage bubbling up when I see that the girl is Jeongyeon. What a dick. 

‘What’s happened?’ Chen asks, and I jut my chin out in Jimin’s direction, Chen spotting him immediately. ‘Four more shots please,’ Chen says to the bartender who puts them down almost instantly, reading my mind. We take two each in quick succession, my throat burning, but I ignore it, knowing I need to get fucked if I wanna enjoy this night. ‘Here, don’t think about him. Let’s have a god night tonight. It’s been a while since we had a night out together. Not since you broke up with Eunwoo – not that I blame you, he is a bit of a dick. Let’s make this a good catch-up… unless you were looking to be dicked down? Because you know I ain’t the one for that,’ he says, making me laugh. ‘I was, but that can wait for later. Let’s have a catch-up,’ I say to him, and he grins, ordering a gin and tonic for himself, and a martini for me. We head over to an empty booth with a good view of the bar, and then he makes me sit on the side where I can’t see the dancefloor and, more importantly, Jimin and Jeongyeon. 

We sit and gossip for ages, being brought a steady flow of drinks due to Chen’s VIP card, and so after a while, he’s bursting for the toilet. ‘Go, you idiot, don’t hold it,’ I laugh, my words slightly slurred, due to the fact I lost count of how many drinks I’ve had around an hour ago. I get out my phone, seeing a text from Mija to say that she saw me with Chen and she’s gone home with some guy called Jackson, and to let her know if I need her. She’s also sent me Jackson’s address, in case he’s a serial killer. I send a text back telling her about the only thing he’ll want to murder, and before I can even lock my phone, Chen’s sliding back into the seat opposite me. ‘That was quick, I thought there’d be at least a bit of a queue,’ I say, my words trailing off when I realise that Chen is, in fact, not back, and Eunwoo is now sat opposite me. ‘Hey, y/n,’ he says with a handsome grin, my eyes trailing over his appearance. He looks amazing, as per usual, his dark clothes hugging his slim figure nicely. ‘I ignored your texts for a reason, Woo,’ I say, taking a sip of my drink, and he laughs. ‘I just wanted to check up on you. I heard about what Jimin did to you, and I wanted to see if you were okay. I actually stopped by one day and dropped you off some cupcakes from Betty’s, because I know they’re your favourites, but Mija must not have told you,’ he says gently, his words surprisingly making my heart melt. I did, in fact, receive some Betty’s cupcakes (which I’d devoured within minutes), but Mija hadn’t told me they were from Eunwoo, instead taking the credit for herself. I don’t blame her – she obviously didn’t want me to know that my ex was being nice to me, knowing I have zero willpower and probably would’ve jumped back into his bed again. 

‘Thanks, Woo, that’s really nice of you. But, yeah, I’m fine,’ I say, knocking back my drink, and Eunwoo waves his hand in the air, summoning a waiter. ‘Hell, yeah, you are,’ he replies under his breath, obviously not expecting me to hear, and the waiter arrives within seconds. ‘Can we get two margaritas please? Be generous with the tequila and stingy with the orange,’ Eunwoo says, flashing a VIP card between his fingers. I’m weak for a powerful man and the way he looks combined with the way the waiter goes rushing off to get the drinks makes my head spin slightly. ‘Woo, come on. I’m not making this mistake again,’ I say, and he clutches his chest. ‘Did you really just call me a mistake? I’m hurt. It’s not the first time, though. Imagine your older brother telling you that your dad told him that after you rushed KPN, he wished he’d wrapped it before he tapped it?’ Eunwoo says, coaxing a surprised laugh out of me, the boy smiling at my reaction. ‘Woo, I’m serious. I might be drunk, but I’m not drunk enough to go back to you,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I don’t want you to come back to me. I just wanna have a drink together,’ he says, and I look at him sceptically. He holds up his hands in a surrendering motion and I laugh. ‘I’m being serious, y/n. As much as I miss being in a relationship with you, I miss you as a person. We used to be good friends before we actually got together, and I miss having you in my life. Is it that much of a crime to want to catch up with you?’ he asks, and I feel my heart and head arguing, both saying opposite things. My heart wins; ‘fine, we’ll have a catch up.’

A couple hours (and more than a couple drinks) later, Eunwoo and I are both laughing at something. I forgot what it is though, we started laughing so long ago. ‘What time is it?’ I ask him, and he checks his expensive watch. ‘9.42. Wait, no, 4.17. Wait, I don’t know. I can’t tell the time,’ he says, thrusting his arm to me, knocking over an empty glass in the process. ‘Eunwoo!’ I exclaim, putting the glass upright again, trying not to laugh, before I take his arm into my hands, his soft skin against my fingers. ‘It’s… 1.28. How did you get 9.42 and 4.17 from that?’ I laugh, but he doesn’t laugh along, eyes trained on my hands on him. ‘Woo,’ I start to say, but he gets up hastily. ‘Let’s dance. We haven’t even danced all night,’ he says, pulling me up after him, leading me over to the dancefloor before I have a chance to reply. Not like I’m going to disagree in my inebriated state; I’m always down to dance, even more so with a bit of alcohol in me. A song by The Weeknd pulses through the room as Eunwoo and I merge into the group of dancers, his hands landing on my waist. The alcohol in my system seems to push out the warnings and the bad memories with the boy in front of me, and instead all I can think about is the fact that he’s extremely good-looking with better-than-subpar dick. I let his hands roam all over me, my own hands clasping onto the back of his neck, our bodies pushed together. He isn’t an amazing dancer, not like Jimin, but he’s okay, and he lets me do most of the work, my body rolling against his in a way that feels nice in a lazy way, like a summer breeze or a cool glass of Vanilla Coke (I don’t care what anyone says but Vanilla Coke is elite and that is that on that). After a while, I realise that his thigh is pushed between my two legs and he notices me noticing. Instead of reprimanding him as I should, I begin to grind down onto his thigh. His mouth drops slightly, hands clutching at lower back, before he leans down. ‘D’you wanna go have a smoke?’ he asks against my ear, and I think his offer over for a moment. It’s obvious he’s not just offering me weed, he wants to take me home. And I find myself being up for it. I know he’ll give me a good time, and he’s definitely clean, refusing to ever have sex without a condom. It just has to be a one-time thing.

‘Let’s get one more drink for the road first,’ I suggest, and he grins a satisfied grin. ‘I’ll go get them, you go sit in the booth first,’ he says, both of us going separate ways. I take my seat at the booth we were sat at before, thankfully still empty, and pull out my phone to check for any texts from Mija, but there’s nothing. Eunwoo slides into the booth opposite me as I lock my phone, and I look up with a smile, before realising it’s not Eunwoo. ‘Jimin,’ I breathe out, smile disappearing as I flinch back from him. ‘y/n, I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but I had to come check on you,’ he begins, angering me to the core. ‘I’m fine,’ I spit out, and he sighs. ‘y/n, please. I’m worried about you. Why are you with him?’ he asks, and I shake my head, fury coursing through my veins. ‘Don’t act like you care. You lost the right to be concerned about me and my life,’ I hiss, hands balled into fists with anger. ‘y/n, don’t do this. I just need to know that you’re okay with him, that you’re safe, that he’s not forcing you into anything,’ he asks, completely closed off, no emotion coming through at all. ‘I’m okay, I’m safe, and I’m not being forced into anything. He just wanted to check up on me. See if I was okay, after what you did,’ I say without a hint of emotion, the words dead and cold. 

He flinches at the way I speak to him, but doesn’t say anything, knowing he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. He goes to reply but Eunwoo appears then, putting four shots down onto the table. I wait for one of them to start on the other, but it doesn’t happen; instead, Eunwoo smiles a brilliant smile and holds out a hand to Jimin. ‘Hey, hyung, how are you?’ he asks, Jimin taking his hand hesitantly. ‘I’m alright, Eunwoo, how are you?’ Jimin replies warily. ‘I’m good, thank you. Here, y/n, I thought we might as well go for the hard stuff,’ he says, pushing two of the shots towards me. We both down them within seconds, Jimin watching us with an unreadable expression, before I rise from the booth. ‘Thank you for your concern, Jimin, but we’re leaving now. I’m sure Jeongyeon’s waiting for you somewhere. Probably in the toilets,’ I say venomously, and I know it’s a new low, but I can’t help it, and I feel even better when he opens and closes his mouth like a fish, not knowing what to say. I put my arm around Eunwoo’s waist and lead him away, feeling like a boss bitch with the knowledge that Jimin is most definitely watching us walk away now, his eyes – without a doubt – trained on my ass, or rather, Eunwoo’s hand on my ass.

Once Eunwoo and I step outside the club, the cold air hits me and I feel my head becoming light with all the alcohol I’ve consumed tonight. Eunwoo holds me up so I don’t fall and leads me to an Uber he must have already ordered, helping me in and sliding in beside me. He makes small talk with the driver, one big hand on my leg, as I send a quick text to Mija to let her know my whereabouts. I lock my phone once done, and sling a leg over Eunwoo’s lap, who regards me with a predatory gaze as one of my hands rests on his chest. He places one hand on my chin, tilting my head up and gently brushing his lips against mine before pulling away. My eyes flutter closed, waiting for him to continue, and then I feel his lips on mine again, this time with more force. He pushes my lips apart, tongue delving into my mouth within moments, and his hand wraps into my hair, pulling me closer. I let him take control, one hand still on his chest and the other on the side of his face, our mouths moving in sync. He distracts me completely, pushing Jimin out of my mind, and after a few minutes, we pull up outside the frat house. 

Eunwoo pushes some notes into the driver’s hand as a tip and leads me up to the house, our hands clasped together. He pushes the unlocked door open and leads me through the familiar frat house that I spent countless days and nights in, cooking for my friends, having movie nights in the living room with more of us than there were seats, sleeping in Eunwoo’s room, and not-sleeping in Eunwoo’s room. When we enter his room, I’m hit with such a strong sense of nostalgia that I freeze in the doorway. He sits down on the bed, looking up at me with an amused smile, and leans back on his hands. ‘Weird?’ he asks, and I nod, still unable to move. And then, in my drunken state, it’s almost as though this image of himself he’s managed to put into my mind tonight melts away, revealing the boy he truly is. The boy that used to manipulate me and lie to me. The boy that was so possessive he’d manage to make me feel guilty every time I spoke to a different boy. The boy that’d win me over with gifts and sex and showing me off to everyone. The boy that lost me the second he beat me up for texting a boy in my class about the assignment we’d been set. ‘I’m just gonna go toilet real quick, and then I’ll be back. Just sit on the bed, make yourself at home,’ he says with a smile, sinister now rather than sexy as it was in the bar. I nod as he gets up and I take the seat he was sat in, waiting until I hear the lock on the door click. 

My breathing starts to speed up, my mind swimming, and tears start to fall from my face. Despite still being drunk, I know that this is the worst decision I could make if I decide to go through with this. How could I have even kissed him? I check my phone, dozens of texts and calls from Mija, presumably to ask what the fuck I was thinking, and I rise from the bed, going light-headed. I stumble towards the door, trying to be as quiet as possible, and leave his room, feeling better the second I do. And then I spot his door, knowing this could be a lifeline for me. I knock gently, whispering his name through the door, and he opens the door. ‘y/n? You came home with him?’ Chen demands, and I dissolve into floods of tears, Chen pulling me into his arms. ‘God, what were you thinking? I saw you sat with him, but you looked like you were having a go at him, so I thought you’d be okay to deal with him yourself. I knew I should’ve come over,’ he says, self-deprecatingly, and I shake my head. ‘Don’t, it’s my own fault. But, please, Chen, help me get out before he comes out the toilet,’ I beg, and Chen nods, grabbing my hand and leading me towards the stairs. 

I hear Eunwoo’s voice saying my name, probably wondering where I am, and Chen does too, speeding up as he drags me down the stairs. He throws open the front door and then I realise my shoes are no longer on my feet, having kicked them off outside Eunwoo’s room as I always did. He may be a frat boy, but his room was always spotless, and he’d have a fit if someone wore shoes in his room. ‘Chen, my shoes,’ I say, a hiccup breaking up my words, and Chen sighs. ‘Come on,’ he says, lifting me up into his arms and out through the front door, shutting it behind him. The cold air makes my head spin again, and I burst into tears again, audibly sobbing into Chen’s chest as he walks away from the house. He walks for a few minutes, my sobs not ceasing the entire time, and it’s only when he stops, I look away from his chest to work out where we are. The sight I see makes me cry harder. ‘I know, I know, but I couldn’t exactly walk you to your apartment, and Mija’s probably getting dicked down somewhere so she couldn’t get you, and my car’s in the shop so I can’t drive you home, and I’m not putting you in a taxi by yourself in this state,’ he says all in one breath. ‘How can I go in there? I can’t face him,’ I say, and Chen shakes his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He dials a number and it rings for a few moments before the person answers. 

‘Hey, Namjoon. Yeah, I’m good. Basically, I’ve got y/n with me, outside your frat house right now. Can she stay the night with you? It’s a long story, she’ll explain it to you. Yeah, just don’t let… him know she’s here. Okay, thanks bro. In a minute,’ Chen says, tucking his phone back into his pocket once he’s done. ‘I didn’t know you and Namjoon were friends,’ I say, having calmed down now. ‘No one does. Both being frat leaders, we have to stay in contact to make sure our frat events and parties don’t clash, and we’ve ended up becoming friends over the years,’ Chen explains, just as Namjoon appears around the side of the house. ‘Here, come through the back, Jimin’s in the living room so he’ll see you otherwise,’ Namjoon says. ‘You’re gonna have to carry her, she left her shoes,’ Chen says, Namjoon sighing before holding out his arms. ‘Sorry, I would’ve gone barefoot, but not in your frat,’ I say as Chen hands me to Namjoon. ‘It’s alright. Thanks for looking after her, Chen,’ Namjoon says, and Chen smiles. ‘It was no problem. I’ll see you soon, y/n, stay safe, babe,’ he says, and I smile. ‘See you, Chen,’ I reply, watching as he leaves. ‘Right, come on, you weirdo,’ Namjoon says, carrying me around to the back of the house, ‘you’ve got a story to tell me. Getting dropped off by Chen in the middle of the night, barefoot and crying. Who are you, Cinderella?’ 

‘Wait. So let me get this straight. You actually were pregnant?’ Namjoon asks, and I nod as I shovel cereal into my mouth, tucked up amongst his (probably disgusting) bedsheets. ‘And you got an abortion?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘And Chungae saw you?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Yes, Namjoon,’ I say, and he becomes sheepish. ‘Sorry, I’m just… surprised. Does Jimin knows?’ he asks. ‘No, and you can’t tell him,’ I say, and he nods. ‘I wouldn’t anyway. But, y/n, how the hell have you gotten through all this alone?’ he asks. ‘Well, I had Mija,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘You know what I mean. She’s your best friend, and probably your best support system, but it seems to me you’ve only got one person in your life at the moment. What about your parents?’ he asks. ‘They don’t know. They’d be furious if they found out. I’m pretty sure they think I’m still a good little virgin,’ I say, and he laughs at that. ‘But, yeah, they’re abroad, in Cuba which is where their business is based. I go and stay with them during summer,’ I say, and he nods. ‘y/n, you should’ve come to me. You know I’ve always got your back,’ he says, and his words make my heart warm. ‘I know, Joon, but I just couldn’t bear to face anyone. All I got were pitying looks and I knew what everyone would be thinking when they see me. I can’t put myself through that, Joon. You know what I’m like,’ I say, and he nods, knowing exactly what I’m like. ‘But you know what I’m like, too, and I wouldn’t have pitied you, y/n. I’m actually proud of you. You’ve handled yourself with such dignity and class. Park looks like the dickhead, and you look like the bad bitch who, yes, she caught feelings, but she also told him what for on the football pitch,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘Thanks, Joon. I appreciate that,’ I say, watching with mild disgust as he pours my leftover cereal milk into his mouth.

‘No problem. Also, I know this really isn’t the right time, but I’ve been thinking,’ he begins. ‘No,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘You haven’t even heard what I want to say yet!’ he exclaims indignantly, and I shrug. ‘Don’t care. I know it’s gonna be something stupid,’ I say, and he looks at me with mock hurt. ‘Fine, tell me,’ I say, leaning back, and he grins a triumphant grin. ‘I’ve been planning our end-of-year rager, and as you know, it is our last year at school,’ he says, and I nod. Despite all being different ages, our course lengths worked out that we all finish the same year. Jungkook was supposed to finish next year but he’s been put onto a degree apprenticeship, meaning that he still has a year left, but will be completing his last year at the company who offered him the degree apprenticeship, so he won’t be attending university next year at all, no lectures, exams, nothing. Because of that, he begged (and begged) the university to let him join in with this year’s graduation so he could graduate with the rest of them, and they gave in eventually. 

‘So, I wanted to do something different with this year’s party,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ASP’s end-of-year parties are infamous; more booze than anyone needs, music loud enough to be heard a mile-off, no entry fee or limit on people. They’re always insane and almost always end with the police showing up, and the house is always a state at the end, all of the boys coming in over summer to get it back to normal, ready for their start-of-year party. ‘Go on,’ I prompt, and he smiles. ‘I’ve booked a function room in a hotel instead,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Oh, okay then. ASP going fancy now then, huh?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘We all gotta wear fancy shit, and there’s gonna be fancy food and fancy drink, but not so fancy music,’ he says, coaxing a laugh from me. ‘Sounds amazing, Joon, honestly. I don’t know if I’ll be attending, though, not after everything,’ I say, and he frowns. ‘Well, I was gonna ask you something else,’ he says, and I side-eye him. ‘I was wondering if you wanted to be my date,’ he says, and I raise my eyebrows. ‘Your date? Why?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘Because you won’t come otherwise. And I’m putting a limit on the guest list because if there’s too many people, it’ll turn mad, and I paid a very big deposit that I want back. If you’re not a date/plus one of one of the frat boys, you’re not coming,’ he says, and my mouth drops open. 

‘What? What kind of ASP end-of-year party is that?’ I demand, and he laughs. ‘I don’t want it to be an ASP rager like normal. I want it to actually be a celebration of our time here, and what good would it be if everyone at our Uni was there? It’s better this way because it’ll only be our close friends and we can actually have a good time and enjoy ourselves, rather than getting absolutely fucked, passing out on the floor, and waking up the next morning with your shirt and shoes missing, lying in a pool of your own vomit,’ he says. ‘But that’s what ASP end-of-year parties are all about,’ I whine, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Would it make you feel better if you knew we’re having one of the normal end-of-year parties as well, just with less of a budget because it’s going mainly to the posh one,’ he says, and I grin. As disgusting and messy and dirty they are, the ragers are tradition, and it’d be wrong to leave without them having another one. It'd ruin Namjoon’s legacy as the best ASP president the frat has seen. 

‘But, anyway. Will you be my date?’ he asks, and I hesitate. ‘Let me think it over. When is it?’ I ask, and he thinks for a moment. ‘Seven weeks yesterday, because the big rager is the Saturday before,’ he says, and I can’t believe how quick the end of the year has come around already. ‘I’ll get back to you, at the latest, the weekend before the big rager. Is that enough notice?’ I ask, and he frowns. ‘Well, now, because if you say no, then I’ll have to find someone else within two weeks,’ he grumbles, and I roll my eyes. ‘Joon, don’t be ridiculous. You’d find someone easy. You could go outside, ask the first person you see to be your date, and it’s 90% likely they’d say yes. You’ll be fine finding a date,’ I say. ‘Only 90%?’ he jokes, and before I can give a stinging reply, someone knocks at the door. 

Both of our eyes widen, panic on both of our faces, and it’s not until the person speaks that we act; ‘Namjoon hyung? It’s Jungkook.’ Joon pulls me up from the bed, calling out ‘one second’, and pushes me towards his closet. The second I open the door and see the clothes and empty takeout boxes piled up on the floor, I turn to look at Namjoon and shake my head. ‘Get in, y/n!’ he hisses, and I shake my head. ‘No way!’ I hiss back. ‘Hyung, you okay? I can hear whispering,’ Jungkook calls, and I motion for Namjoon to just let him in. Namjoon opens the door a tiny crack, looking to see if there’s anyone else in the corridor, and I hear Jungkook ask, ‘hyung, wha-’ but Namjoon pulls him into the room before he can finish his sentence, Jungkook’s words cut off by a yelp. ‘Ow,’ he says indignantly, rubbing at his arm as Namjoon shuts the door, before Jungkook spots me, staring at me in surprise. I don’t blame him. I look a right state; messy bedhead, dressed in a pair of Namjoon’s far-too-big socks and a far-too-big t-shirt that probably does nothing to hide my boobs and black panties I wear beneath. 

‘Noona?!’ he exclaims, moving forward to hug me, and I hold a finger up to mouth. ‘Shut it!’ I hiss as Namjoon shushes him, Jungkook stopping in his tracks. ‘Hey, JK,’ I say quietly, pulling the younger boy into a hug. ‘Noona, where have you been? I’ve missed you,’ he says sadly, and I laugh. It’s funny; I only spent a few days with Jimin, less than a week, I think, and I formed such a strong bond with him and the boys over that time. It warms my heart that Jungkook seems so happy to see me. ‘Wallowing. But, never mind that, you can’t tell anyone I’m here, okay?’ I say, and he nods, pretending to zip his lips shut. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’ he asks, and Namjoon and I exchange a glance. ‘Long story short, I got drunk, decided to go home with Eunwoo, then realised I was an idiot, tried to escape before he realised I was gone with help from Chen who then brought me here to spend the night with this lanky idiot who hogs the blankets,’ I say, Namjoon letting out an indignant noise. 

‘Um, okay. But honestly, noona, you can’t just disappear on us like that. We missed you, but we were worried as well. Mija noona would never let us into the apartment when we tried to come over. Just because of what happened with my stupid hyung, you can’t let that break our friendships apart. Okay?’ he asks, and I nod, endeared to no end at how sweet he’s being. You’d never think this was the boy nearly tearing my pussy apart with aforementioned stupid hyung. I sit down on the bed in my previous position, completely lying down except for my head which rests against the headboard, probably giving me a very attractive double chin, with my feet in Namjoon’s lap. Jungkook joins us on the bed, crossing his long legs adorably, and grinning at me. ‘Has hyung told you about our posh party?’ he asks, and I nod, trying to hold back a laugh when he says, ‘will you be my date then, noona?’