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instead of you [part thirty-two] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of sex (mdni ; 18+)

word count: 2.2k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

The first time you met Jisung was at a party on campus. It was a month into your first semester of college and one of the frats had passed out fliers in the residence halls in the hopes of getting lots of the freshman girls to attend. 

You had dragged your roommate with you, insisting that you needed to get out there and start meeting people since you were each other’s only friends thus far. 

But the joke was on you because she ditched you not even five minutes after arriving, having recognized an ex-boyfriend from her hometown. You didn’t hold it against her, you had been the one to convince her to come in the first place and you understood the whole ex thing. 

But you were a lot shyer back then, less confident. So you stumbled your way through the house until you reached the kitchen. No one had offered to make you a drink yet so you figured you might as well make one yourself. You’d need a little liquid courage if you were going to get the balls to talk to any of these people anyway. 

That’s where you ran into Jisung. He was bent over the stove cooking what looked to be a grilled cheese sandwich. He turned his head when he heard you come in and nodded at you in acknowledgement.

“Want one?” he asked.

“What is it?”

“Grilled ham and cheese.”

You nodded. “Hit me.” 

He finished simmering the one in the pan and slid it onto a paper plate before grabbing the ingredients for yours. 

“How long have you lived here?” you asked conversationally. 

“Oh, I don’t live here.”

“Are you a pledge then?”

“No.”

“You’re not… affiliated with this frat?”

“Nope.”

“Are your friends?”

“Nah.”

“So you’re just…”

“Stealing their food? Kind of.”

You shrugged. “I won’t tell.”

He cracked a smile. “Good, because I’d really regret making you a sandwich if you did.” 

You hadn’t noticed until that point but he had an accent. 

“English?” you asked.

“Yes, that’s what we’re speaking. Why, do you know another language?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“No, I’m from Korea, actually,” he explained after chuckling. “But my English tutor was British so I picked up a little bit of an accent.”

“What made you decide to come all the way over here?”

“A mix of things, really,” he sighed.

“You’re probably tired of that question, I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay. I just don’t have an interesting answer or anything so conversations usually fizzle out after that.”

“I get it. It’s like when everyone in your hometown asks you what you’re going to study and what job you’re getting your degree for.”

“Pretty much,” he agreed. “Your grilled cheese is ready.”

He plated the sandwich and handed it to you, turning the stove off and depositing the pan and spatula in the sink. 

“Thank you!”

“You might want to let it cool down a bit, though.” 

“Yes, chef.” 

He gave you a look, making you freeze in place. 

“What? Should I not call you that?”

“No, it’s just- I’m a culinary major. I’m always saying that to my professors but no one’s ever said that to me before. I know you didn’t mean it mean it but it sounded weird.” 

“I was just referencing Hell’s Kitchen,” you admitted. 

“Just so you know, not all chefs are like Gordon Ramsay.” 

“Only the majority?” 

He winked at you. “Bingo.”

“So if you don’t want me to call you ‘chef’, what should I call you?” 

“I never said I didn’t want you to call me that,” he clarified. “But you can call me Jisung.”

“Jisung. Nice name.”

“Thanks. Do you have one?”

You grinned. “I do.”

He gave an exasperated little sigh. “And what is it?”

You told him, leaning forward and whispering it like it was a secret. 

“You have a nice name too.”

“Thank you.”

“By the way, your sandwich should be cool enough to eat by now.”

You leaned back against the island and took a bite of your grilled cheese. Jisung gauged your reaction, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Good?”

“Great. Best grilled cheese sandwich I’ve ever had.”

“Don’t fuck with me,” he warned. 

“I’m not! Listen, I can’t cook for shit so I’m very easy to impress.” 

“I’ll take your word for it. It’s better for my ego if I ignore the last part.” 

“I can make a mean Moscow Mule, though. My talents lie in mixology, not gastronomy.”

“Make me a drink, then?” he asked. 

“Gladly.” 

You set your paper plate on the counter and made your way over to the fridge. 

“Let’s see what they have in here.”

“Oh, now you’re the one stealing food?” 

“Guess that makes us partners in crime.” 

You fell silent as you looked over the contents of the refrigerator, gathering a bottle of orange juice and half-empty jar of raspberry jam. You checked the expiration dates before continuing because you didn’t trust frat guys and then set them on the island with a handle of tequila that had been left out. 

Jisung watched as you spooned the jam into an empty solo cup, visibly skeptical. You couldn’t blame him for not trusting you, you had just met him, after all. You poured the orange juice in next and mixed the two together, finally adding a shot and a half of tequila. 

“Don’t want to get you too drunk,” you explained. 

He scoffed. “You think that’ll do me in? I’m Korean, remember?”

“Fine, suit yourself.” 

You poured what you approximated to be another shot of tequila into the cup. You filled another cup with ice from a nearby cooler and poured the contents of the first cup into it. Instead of shaking them and risking making a huge mess, you rolled them between the cups until you were satisfied that everything was properly mixed. 

You presented Jisung with your creation, eyes shining. “Here you go! It’s a makeshift tequila sunrise.”

Jisung reached for it but you stopped him abruptly. “Wait! Hold on.”

You took a sip of the drink yourself, just to make sure it was actually palatable, before passing it off to him. 

“Sorry, wanted to check.”

“Not confident in your abilities all of the sudden?“ he mused. 

“I’m trying something new,” you grumbled defensively, “artists make mistakes. I’m not above admitting that and therefore want to quality check my products to make sure it’s good enough for my consumers.”

“Didn’t realize you were taking this so seriously.”

“I take everything seriously.” 

He eyed you suspiciously. “Something tells me that’s not true.” 

-

That night, and all the others you spent with Jisung flashed before your eyes like some sort of sick slideshow as you stood there with him in the hallway. The fractures in the glass were beyond repair now, spindling inward threatening to shatter.

You supposed it was what you deserved, watching your relationship with your best friend crumble right in front of you. 

“Why do you ask?” you said quietly, still testing the waters.

“You think I haven’t noticed you sneaking off every night?” Jisung demanded.

“Uh-”

“At first, I thought you just needed some space. And I understood because you’ve been stuck with us for over a month now, but then it happened every night and you’d be gone for so long,” he sighed. “So finally, I followed you-”

“You what?”

“I know, I’m such a bad friend for invading your privacy.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and you could already feel the tears welling up. 

You tried to hold them back because you didn’t deserve to cry. You’d put yourself in this situation, and you knew it was wrong, but you still did it anyway. You clutched your towel closer to your body, trying to shrink into yourself. 

“I heard what I needed to,” he continued. “So how long have you been fucking my brother?”

“Jisung, I-”

“I asked you a question.”

“Long enough,” you muttered. “He found out we weren’t actually dating. I didn’t tell him-”

“That makes it better?” 

“No, I just thought you should know.”

“What does it matter anyway,” he spat. “We had an agreement. You had one task and you couldn’t even do it. I should have never invited you on this goddamn trip.”

You couldn’t help but agree. “I’m sorry.” 

Jisung laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “I don’t believe you. If you actually felt any guilt over this you never would have done it. Or you would’ve at least stopped before it got to this point.”

“No, I am sorry,” you tried. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” he asked, eyes widening suddenly. “You’re not pregnant, are you?” 

For a fraction of a second, you were thrown back in time. The best friend that didn’t hate you was suddenly standing in front of you, eyes full of concern. It passed just as quickly as it had come when you denied it. 

“No, it’s just… I f- I’m in love with him.” You couldn’t even look Jisung in the eye when you said it, too afraid of his reaction. 

It was dead silent all throughout the house after your confession. You stared at the floor where a puddle had appeared at your feet from your dripping hair. 

He chuckled again in disbelief, breaking the silence. 

“You’re not in love with him,” he said matter-of-factly. “You don’t even know what love feels like. You’ve only known him for a fucking month, how could you possibly love him?” You were crying now, furiously wiping away the tears that fell onto your cheeks. “You’re just lonely, y/n, and desperate, and grasping at straws for anything that feels like ‘love’.”

“That’s not true,” you insisted. You weren’t sure why you were trying to defend yourself. He was probably right. 

“It is true! I’ve known you for how many years now? You’ve never had a real relationship with anybody. How could you possibly know what love feels like?”

You shook your head adamantly, convincing yourself he didn’t mean what he was saying. “You’re lashing out.” 

“Is it lashing out if it’s true?” he quipped. 

You swallowed hard, choking a bit. 

“I can’t fucking believe this. My best friend and my brother. I went away to school to be on my own and have my own life, and somehow Minho manages to take that too.” He was mostly talking to himself now. “What if someone else had caught you two? How fucked up would that have looked? I put no flirting with my brothers on the list of rules for a reason, obviously. Although I guess it didn’t matter in the end anyway, did it? You didn’t take them or this seriously.”

“Ji, that’s not true and you know that. I’m the one who wrote out those flashcards. I memorized all that stuff about your family. I flew halfway around the world for you— I did take it seriously.”

“Until Minho offered his dick to you on a silver platter?”

“Oh my god!”

“Am I wrong?” 

You sighed. “It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“Explain it to me then. When did this all start anyway?”

“Minho kissed me for the first time in, um, Italy.” 

“Oh my god, I’m the biggest fucking idiot in the world,” he groaned. 

“But it wasn’t like that then… he still thought we were together then.” 

Jisung threw his hands up. “That makes it worse!”

“I know but he was drunk.”

“That’s not an excuse. You of all people should know that.” 

You let the dig slide since he was in an emotional state and you were in no position to argue anyway. 

“I know.”

“So you guys have been sneaking around behind my back for like a fucking month now?” 

“We didn’t sleep together until Shanghai, when he found out we weren’t together. But I feel like I should tell you I kissed him in Japan. Just so that you know everything.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Jisung deadpanned. “Thank you for being so honest.” He spat the last word at you, which again, was deserved, but hurt nonetheless. You sniffled. “I can’t believe you’re the one crying right now.” 

You couldn’t believe that Jisung wasn’t crying but then again he wasn’t the type to cry when he was angry. He only cried when he was sad, and that probably hadn’t hit him yet. 

You were starting to get cold wearing nothing but a towel but tried not to let it show. Of course, Jisung noticed instantly. He sighed as you shivered and pursed his lips. Even when he was furious with you, even when your relationship was irreparably damaged, he cared about you. It wasn’t something he could just turn off, though maybe with time, he’d learn to. 

“Anyway, go to bed. I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“O-okay,” you mumbled. 

Jisung brushed past you abruptly, muttering to himself loud enough for you to hear.

“God, I wish I’d never fucking met you that night.” 

You bit down on your lip as hard as possible to choke down a sob. All you could do was stand there motionlessly and stare at the floor. You waited for him to walk away into the living room but the footsteps stopped suddenly. 

“Oh, and a word of advice-”

“Hm?” You turned around to face him, trying your best to pull yourself together. 

“You should try getting over your feelings for Minho as fast as possible. He doesn’t love you back. He’s just using you, babe. I know he’s pretty smooth but that’s why he’s so good at his job. Easier said than done, I know, but you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”

hard one to write (and i imagine to read) but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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