you were supposed to sabotage your best friend's blind date. make him lose interest. scare him off a little, maybe accidentally insult his ego enough that he'd go home and tell his parents there had been “no chemistry.” you were absolutely not supposed to make him want to marry her. or technically you in her form.
pairing: ceo!jeon jungkook x you/reader
warnings: none
word count: 1.4k
authors note: i'm lierally so excited to start this series. writing romcoms is and always will be my favourite. i hope you like this short sneak peek as much as i enjoyed writing it. as always, if you would like to be tagged in the next chapters, please let me know in the comments. (please make sure the feature to enable tagging is switched on. unfortunately, i couldn't add a couple of people for this chapter. :()
series masterlist
you were nervous. not normal nervous either. not presentation at work nervous or meeting someone's parents for the first time nervous. this was the kind of nervous where your stomach had apparently stopped functioning somewhere between leaving your apartment and arriving at the restaurant, and now only existed to make your life significantly more difficult.
which, honestly, felt fair.
because how many people regularly went on blind dates pretending to be their rich best friend?
exactly.
especially when said best friend had emotionally manipulated you, financially bribed you and somehow convinced you that identity fraud, but make it friendship, was a completely reasonable thing to participate in.
and now it was too late, because you had arrived.
too early, actually. painfully early.
the kind of early where you stood outside the restaurant for another five minutes because arriving twenty minutes before your blind date somehow felt more embarrassing than pretending to be another person. your reflection stared back at you through the glass windows and, honestly, you barely recognized yourself. mostly because approximately eighty percent of what you were wearing belonged to your friend. the dress? hers. the heels that were already slowly killing your feet? also hers. the jewelry around your wrist that probably cost more than your monthly rent? unfortunately, also hers. the only thing that was actually yours was the cheap halloween wig you'd bought on impulse and somehow it looked better than your real hair, at least according to your best friend and every other person on this world
you look expensive, she had proudly announced earlier.
i look borrowed, you had answered.
now, walking through the entrance toward reception, your brain decided this was the perfect moment to spiral. because suddenly there were too many questions and not enough answers. how did he look? how exactly were you supposed to sabotage this? what if he recognized you? what if he was weird? please let him be weird. or arrogant. or one of those men that talked about cryptocurrency during dinner and called themselves entrepreneurs after opening one business account.
anything would help.
because your mission tonight was simple in theory: ruin the date, make him dislike you, make him go home and tell everyone that miss jin young-seo was rude, unpleasant, and maybe slightly concerning.
easy.
probably.
hopefully.
you were led through the restaurant by a waiter, and honestly, you probably looked less like someone attending a blind date and more like a lost dog following its owner around.
completely out of place.
everything around you looked expensive in a way that made you suddenly aware of every single thing you were wearing even if most of it wasn't technically yours. the lighting was dim but somehow still screamed wealth, the tables far enough apart that rich people apparently also paid for personal space, and the decorations looked minimalistic in the terrifying way where minimalistic usually meant unnecessarily expensive.
you kept looking around while walking, trying not to stare too obviously while trying not to trip over your own feet.
because this place was expensive expensive. the kind of expensive where there were no prices displayed outside because if you had to ask, you probably couldn't afford it. the kind of expensive where you immediately knew your monthly salary wouldn't survive here.
actually not even survive.
your monthly salary probably wouldn't even cover dinner.
your savings?
also questionable.
you were beginning to understand why your friend had insisted on paying.
the waiter stopped near one of the tables and pulled the chair back for you.
for a second you just stared.
because no one had ever done that for you before.
then, realizing you had already paused too long, you quickly sat down.
carefully.
very carefully.
because suddenly the chair also looked expensive.
and breaking furniture in a restaurant you couldn't afford while pretending to be someone else felt like a very bad way to spend your evening.
you didn't even realize how long you been stuck in your own thoughts when—
“miss jin young-seo?”
the voice pulled you back so suddenly you almost jumped.
you looked up from where you had apparently been intensely studying the table decorations because if you were being honest, staring at the flowers had been easier than acknowledging the fact that you were sitting alone in a restaurant expensive enough to make your bank account cry.
“yes?”
and then your brain completely abandoned you.
because oh.
oh no.
your friend had forgotten to mention an important detail.
a very important detail.
her blind date was ridiculously attractive.
not normal attractive either. not oh he looks nice attractive. no, this was the kind of attractive that immediately irritated you because it complicated everything. he was tall in a way that felt unnecessary, dressed too well for a random dinner date, and had the kind of face that made you understand why rich people seemed to succeed at everything. broad shoulders hidden underneath an expensive coat, sharp features, calm expression, he looked less like someone attending a blind date and more like someone who accidentally walked out of a luxury brand campaign.
your first coherent thought was simple: he's hot.
your second coherent thought followed immediately after: this is deeply unfortunate.
“you are miss jin, right?” he asked again politely.
and honestly?
you had never been happier to temporarily be miss jin.
“yes,” you answered immediately.
too immediately.
the lie rolled off your tongue so naturally that it actually concerned you a little. maybe you should reflect on that later. much later. preferably after surviving tonight.
“please have a seat,” you said quickly, gesturing toward the chair in front of you because if you stared any longer this mission was already compromised.
and that was the problem.
because sabotaging ugly people? easy.
sabotaging attractive people? harder.
sabotaging attractive people who also seemed polite? borderline unethical.
still, you had a job to do.
you reached into your purse and pulled out the business card your friend had forced into your hand earlier. well, not your business card. hers. because apparently rich people exchanged business cards on blind dates while normal people exchanged instagram handles and asked what music you listened to.
“i don't even know who you are,” you said bluntly, deciding rudeness was probably the safest route.
good.
strong start.
“your name is?”
he blinked once but didn't look offended. if anything, he looked calm. suspiciously calm.
then he reached into his pocket and placed a card in front of you.
“my name is jeon jungkook.”
you stared.
“what?”
“my name is jeon jungkook.”
you exaggerated your expression.
“jeon what?”
“jeon jungkook,” he repeated patiently.
you raised your voice another octave.
“jeon jungkook?”
at this point he looked like he was reconsidering whether dinner was worth enduring whatever this interaction was.
good
excellent.
progress.
he reached for his card again.
you immediately pulled it closer.
“oops.”
his hand stopped midair.
you smiled awkwardly.
he slowly pulled his hand back.
you looked down again.
jeon jungkook.
then you turned the card around.
there was a logo.
a familiar logo. too familiar.
your eyes narrowed.
wait. no. absolutely not.
you looked again.
your stomach dropped so fast you were surprised it didn't physically hit the floor, because that wasn't just any logo.
that was your company logo.
your company.
your workplace.
the place where you spent eight hours pretending emails weren't slowly destroying your mental health.
slowly, very slowly, you looked back down at the card.
then back at him.
then back down again.
jeon jungkook.
the president.
your company president.
your CEO.
the man whose face was probably hanging somewhere in headquarters.
your brain kindly replayed the last ten minutes for you.
you had lied.
pretended to be another woman.
been rude.
mocked his name.
refused to return his business card.
and were currently committing identity fraud in front of your CEO.
amazing.
truly incredible work.
this was exactly why helping friends should legally require paperwork.
“miss jin.”
you didn't react because your soul had temporarily left your body.
“miss jin.”
clearer this time.
“yes?” you answered quickly, still mentally somewhere else entirely.
his eyebrows pulled together slightly.
“is something wrong?”
if something was wrong? what here was even right?
you were pretending to be someone else, sitting across from your company president on a blind date you were supposed to sabotage while actively realizing your boss was unfairly attractive.
BUSINESS PROPOSAL | jeon jungkook | series masterlist
you were supposed to sabotage your best friend's blind date. make him lose interest. scare him off a little, maybe accidentally insult his ego enough that he'd go home and tell his parents there had been "no chemistry." you were absolutely not supposed to make him want to marry her. or technically you in her form.
pairing: ceo!jeon jungkook x you/reader
warnings: none
word count: tbd
authors note: after rewatching business propsal for the hundred time i had a little idea about a series. of course with jungkook as the ceo? (hello??) this will most likely be published when i’m nearly done with maybe. (hopefully soon..)
and also new theme. do we like it?? i’m not the best in making/editing covers so bare with me. :/
introduction: how to accidentally tease you guys with a sneak peak. - publish date: 30. May
one: how to accidentally be the best friend ever. - publish date: tbd
summary: when your best friend comes to you asking for a favor, always say no. especially when that favor somehow involves a blind date, identity fraud, and pretending to be her in front of a man neither of you have ever met before.
two: how to accidentally ruin a blind date - publish date: tbd
summary: when you’re on a date pretending to be your best friend, the goal is simple: sabotage it. ruin the vibe. make it awkward enough that he starts questioning his entire life choices. what you are not supposed to do is accidentally sit across from your boss halfway through dessert.
three: how to accidentally not reveal your real identitiy - publish date: tbd
jsummary: when you suddenly receive a sms from your blind date while literally sitting next to your boss, well your blind date, don’t panic. that’s what bathrooms are for.
four: how to accidentally date your boss (as someone else?) - publish date: tbd
summary: when he offers to drop you off at home after the fourth date, get out of the car early. or risk him finding out where you live. or worse realizing who you actually are.
five: how to accidentally get a happy ending - publish date: tbd
summary: when he finds out who you really are, don’t scramble for excuses, just tell him the truth. no damage control, no clever lies, no last-minute improvising. simple. or not?
taglist: open! if you want to be tagged for updates, let me know in the comments.
you shouldn't have tried to make him jealous. or maybe you did the right thing.
pairing: idol!kim taehyung x you/reader
wc: 1.3k
warnings: 18+, pure filth.
authors note: first post ever and it’s smut. didn’t proofread it
“will you ever try to make me jealous again?” taehyung whispered in your ear as he thrusted in you from behind. hard and fast, your hands pressed against the cold window of the hotel. the coldness cooling down your hot body. your check was pressed against the hard surface of the window, a fogy layer already creating on it because of your hectic breathing.
you couldn’t answer, all your thoughts, all possible sentences you could form, were gone the moment he entered your needing wet hole. and god did you love it.
your sounds echoed off the walls, not even trying to hide your voices anymore. not caring if anyone could here you. not caring if they heard, how good taehyung was fucking you.
he pressed your front firmly, insistently and harder against the cold glass, but not too hard. it was just enough pressure, like he knew how you liked aftr all this time. he always knew what you liked. how you liked it.
his arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, grounding you and pulling you against him until you had barely enough room to think—let alone move. each time, he pushed in and out of you. every time, your body tilted forward completely, because you could no longer hold yourself, he would pull you back against him. not caring about all the cries and whimpers coming out of your mouth. “i’m sorry,” you subbed. but were you really sorry?
the way he pressed his hand on your lower abdomen, whenever he rammed his cock into your cervix with full force, made you feel it more intensely. "can you feel it? how deep i’m inside you?" as if he was trying to prove something, he went deeper than you thought was ever possible. his thrust brutal and deep, his cock dragging against your walls like he was trying to stamp himself in your body. as if he wanted to make sure that you would even feel him days after this. no, so that you could never forget him.
"do you really think that jimin could ever fuck you the way i do? do you think he could even make you come?" his hand, which had been pressed against your abdomen, found its way to your clit. two fingers rubbing it in a sloppy way.
you moaned as you buried your head into the pit of his shoulder. “tae-taehyung don't stop,” you screamed, holding on to the window with your arms, to his biceps, which had grown twice as much since he returned from the military, to something, anything, you could hold yourself onto. you could still remember exactly when he'd sent you a topless picture without any context. a shirtless picture of him after training in the military. and the only thing you could see was, how big he got. so big and bulky. looking so sexy, so manly that the first thing you did when you went home was, make yourself come with your fingers to the sight of this picture. making a mess on your bedsheets.
"i asked you a question baby. answer me," he gasped breathlessly against your ear, his voice low and raspy. he started kissing down your neck slowly, leaving light bites, desperate to mark you. to mark you as his. “tae not.” were the only words you could get out, way to fucked up. you agreed when you started this ‘relationship’ that you would leave no marks. no hickeys, no nail marks on his back. nothing. because how was a world-famous idol going to explain to his make-up artist where all the marks on his neck came from?
"should i send him a video of me fucking your tight pussy. what do you say?” you knew exactly who he meant. “maybe then he will stop flirting with you.”
he chuckled.
“or better i'll call him over and show him how much of a cockslut you are for me,” he swivelled against your ear, licking where he'd marked you. you convulsed around him. a needy moan escaping your lips. at this point he was just desperate. desperate to get a response from you. desperate for any kind of reaction. you knew why he was doing this, you knew what he wanted, why he pushed you, and yet, you flirted with jimin. looking deep in his eyes, smiling devilishly. and that was all it took for him to explode. and maybe he knew why you did it too.
“you like that? the thought of jimin seeing how i’m fucking you? fucking your needy pussy for months,” he moaned as he abused your cunt. taehyung slowed his pace, only so he can penetrate you harder. each slap that connected with your skin elicited a pornographic moan from your throat. you felt his balls slapping harshly against your ass, and how his body pressed you against the cool surface of the window. his fingers still rubbing and pinching your clitoris, making you cry out.
“tae please.” you didn't know what you were begging for. were you begging for him? or for the thought of him filming you both? how he was fucking you hard and mercilessly? how he fucked you, a mere employee of HYBE? maybe that was the reason why the whole thing had started between you in the first place. why you were on your knees with taehyung's cock in your mouth in the first week of you working there. blowing him like it was about winning the gold madeille. or maybe the fact that the whole thing was secretly giving you the kink. the thought that something could come out at any moment, someone seeing you, someone reporting you. that this was your dirty little secret.
“no matter how hard you try to make me jealous,” each of his thrusts deepened with the roll of his hips. “you're mine. say you're mine. only mine.” you moaned loudly. your breaths becoming shorter, chest rosing rose and felling quickly. his finger let go of your clit and found your neck.
with each thrust he hit your sweet spot inside o you, the pressure intensifying until you thought you might break. your eyes watered, not from pain, but from the intensity of the lust that built up and threatens to swallow you whole. you could feel his muscles tensing, his body on the verge of its own release.
you nod, “yes-yes i'm yours. only yours,” your voice turned into a high-pitched whimper before you finally came. you came undo on his throbbing cock. still as he kissed your g-spot with his tip. for a moment you thought you could see stars, mound dropped no sound coming out. only hearing the pounding of your racing heart in your ears. no, you really were seeing the stars. taehyung really outdid himself. “fuck. fuck. fuck.” taehyung fucked you through it, his thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release. his fingers clasped your neck harder, the pain of your high coursing through you, riding out your high.
he pulled your head to his neck and greedily pressed his lips to yours in a messy, teeth clashing kiss. the angle was uncomfortable, especially since your neck was stretched in a painful way. but you didn’t care. it felt good. way too good. you gasped pain-filled into his mouth, taehyung seizing the opportunity to push his tongue slopply into your mouth.
“gonna fill you up. gonna mark this pussy,” he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with need. “gonna pump you so fucking full of me, that it‘ll be dripping out of your cunt for days.” his voice sending another shiver through you, making your oversensitive clench around his cock. and then he buried himself deep with an animalistic moan, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you, colouring your inner walls white. not stopping until you felt the mixture of his and your come dripping down your thighs.
soft moans and the sharp hiss of breath were the only sounds in the room. no other sound could be heard for a couple of seconds.
taehyung pulled himself slowly out of you. you whimpered at the loss of the feeling of fullness. then he bend his head down to your ear. “only mine,” he said as pushed the mess leaking out of your cunt back in it.
My favorite tumblr BTS fics of 2026 (as a namjoon and yoongi bias)
Namjoon:
The Bodyguard by @rmnamjoons (Namjoon x Reader) - My first ever tumblr fic and I read it in genuinely one sitting (it took hours)
Office Hours by @minyoongiss (Namjoon x Reader) - The filth?? Amazing 10/10
Heart got teeth by @100vern (Namjoon x Reader) - 5sos and BTS my two worlds collide??????
Seokjin:
Clichés and Canapés by @kpopfanfictrash (Seokjin x Reader) - Fake dating my beloved 🫶
Yoongi:
Play Dirty by @97luvz (Yoongi x Reader) - Not even going to lie. I just found out this is a part of a series and I will be reading the rest now but the line “you have a friend?” is now such a big inside joke between me and my friend. ALSO YOONGI WITH PRINCE ALBERT PIERCING??? Needs to be more common ngl
Cybersex by @gimmethatagustd (Yoongi x Reader) - I'm a slut for a good brother's best friend and this delivered. This fic is so so so good and the relationship build up chefs kiss
Reckless by @merakoo (Yoongi x Reader) - I WANT TO SMOKE WITH MIN YOONGI AND THEN GET RAILED BY HIM ARE YOU KIDDING??? (anyways this fic was so hot I love it 🫶)
Taehyung:
Midnight Curfew by @taerotic (Taehyung x Reader) - OMG THE SMUT??? THE TENSION? THE POLICE RADIO??
Jungkook:
Like $ugar on my tongue by @shawtuzi (Jungkook x Reader) - Where can I find a man like this???
Fall in love again and again by @spideyjimin (Jungkook x Reader) - This is genuinely such a cute fic and it needs even more attention
Sinners by wintrbears (Jungkook x Reader) - OMFG THIS WAS HOT, i love me a oc/reader that bosses the other around 🙂↕️
Multiple Members:
Good Girl by @jamaisjoons (Seokjin x Reader x Yoonji x Jimin) - THE FILTH!!! Also didnt realize it was Yoonji for a hot minute and thought it was yoongi but genuinely made it all the better
Only here to Sin by @gimmethatagustd (Namjoon x Reader, Taehyung x Reader, Jimin x Reader, Taehyung x Namjoon) - Okay infidelity, not my fav. But this fic genuinely was so good so many things I did not expect to happen happened and OMG THE TAEJOON DRABBLE AT THE END??? Give me 10 more
Made of Honor by @kookooluvr (Namjoon x Reader, Jungkook x Reader) - Dont get me started on this fic. Genuinely my roman empire fic, all of my friends (2 people) know about this fic. I bring it up often and I believe EVERYONE needs to read it
All night by @axigailxo (Namjoon x Reader x Yoongi) - My bias’s so genuinely amazing already plus the smut 10/10
Sugar Talking (Taehyung x Reader) and Better than him (Jungkook x Reader) by @inthelow - THE FILTH THE FILTH THE FILTH, i need to find a man who degrades me like Better Than Him Jk ngl. That shit was so hot
Lights, Camera, Action by @colormepurplex2 (Jungkook x Reader x Namjoon) - This was so good and SO HOT??? The last chapter also just made me so happy
Ongoing Series:
Run, Little Bunny by @gukcnt (Yoongi x Reader) - Okay, im so fucking excited to keep reading this, like genuinely idk what it is about the dynamic of this but its hot asf and I JUST KNOW the smut is gonna go crazy
The Hit list by @wintrbears (Jungkook x Reader) - Both me and my best friend are reading this and we are constantly on the edge of our seats waiting for a new chapter to come out.
Yes, Chef by @yoonmetogether (Yoongi x Reader) - My best friend has gotten genuinely sick of me talking about this fic and im patiently awaiting for the next chapter 🙏 I neeeeed to know if they take it further because ugh the dynamic??? 10/10
Anyways I love all of these fics and I 10/10 recommend all of them to anyone who hasn't read them. Also just support these amazing authors ❤️❤️
in which a so called cowboy with a gucci hat turns out to be the most submissive boy you ever met or in which you ride taehyung like the good cowgirl you are.
pairing: sub!taehyung x dom!reader/you
warnings: 18+, explicit sex scenes, explicit language
authors note: wrote this in one hour? taehyung you and that cowboy hat are truly an inspiration.
word count: 800
he was absolutely wrecked beneath you, a broken, sobbing mess of pathetic whimpers and desperate gasps that echoed through the room.
you didn't know who he was, didn't care, didn't need to know; the only thing that registered in your dazed, drunk (at least an hour ago) mind when you saw him standing in the dark, shadowed corner of your best friend's halloween party was that you needed him instantly. especially with that ridiculous, fucking gucci cowboy hat perched on his head like a crown for a clown.
who even wore a designer hat to a cheap, trashy costume party? he looked like a joke, a wannabe cowboy with too much money and zero style, but the way his eyes tracked your every movement, wide and dilated, completely submissive, desperate to please, that was what you wanted. you wanted to break him completely, to see him crumble into nothingness under your hands, just a submissive little cowboy who existed solely to service your needs.
"shit, you feel so good," you groaned, your voice breathless and wrecked, your hips moving on their own, seeking more friction, more of him, deeper. your hands pressed flat against his hard, heaving chest, your nails digging in aggressively, scratching marks into his skin, claiming him, branding him as yours, turning him into your personal toy. fucking him like a good cowgirl cause that’s what a real cowboy needed. or not?
"fuck me, please, just fuck me." he needed it. but you needed it more, needed to feel him fill you up, needed to feel his cum painting your insides, needed to feel his desperation against your skin.
you leaned forward, capturing his mouth, tongue exploring his mouth, tasting his desperation, his need, his submission. he moaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer, begging for more, begging for you to use him harder, to take him deeper, to break him completely. you pulled back, panting, your lips swollen and red, your eyes locked on his, seeing the pure adoration and submission in them, a sight that made your pussy drip.
and when he whimpered. fuck.
your head fell back, your neck exposed, giving him perfect access as you rode him with wild abandon, your hips snapping up and down, faster and faster, harder and harder, letting his thick, pulsating cock slide in and out of your wet, welcoming pussy. rolling you hips up and down, back and forth, a rhythm that had you seeing stars, your body consumed by pleasure, your mind completely blank except for the feeling of him inside you.
you reached down, your fingers trailing through your juices, slicking up his cock as you took him deeper, longer, more, more, more, his thick shaft stretching you wide, filling you completely, his tip brushing against your cervix, making you cry out. "you like that, cowboy?" you taunted, your voice breathless and rough. "you like being used by me? like this?" you squeezed his cock with your inner muscles, milking him, drawing more pleasure from him, making him groan and arch his back, his hips bucking up to meet yours, matching your rhythm, his tip filling you with pre-cum until he hit that spot, making you moan. you wanted to fill that empty space with his seed, with his life, with everything he had. you were so done for a nameless cowboy.
his hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, his nails digging in, anchoring you to him, holding you down so he could sloppily thrust up into you, meeting you stroke for stroke, driving you both insane. "take it, take it all," you grunted, his face buried in your neck, his lips kissing, licking, biting your skin, making you shiver with delight, making you moan louder, making you need him even more. his tongue traced a path up your neck, to your earlobe, sucking and nibbling on it, making you cry out, your body trembling with pleasure, your pussy clamping down on his thick cock.
"f-fuck... please... more," he begged, his voice cracking, hie body writhing, your hips moving faster, faster, faster, needing to feel him cum inside you, needing to be filled by him, needing to feel his hot, sticky seed paint your insides, marking you. god please yes.
his cock throbbed inside you, pulsating, filling you with hot, thick seed, painting your walls with his cum, making you feel so full, so used, so dirty, so good.
you came hard, your body shaking, your toes curling, your vision blurring, your mind going blank, lost in the overwhelming pleasure, lost in the feeling of him inside you, lost in the feeling of using him, a broken, pathetic little cowboy, used by a woman who didn't even know his name.
you rode him through your orgasm, your hips moving slower now, your body spent, your chest heaving, your skin glistening with sweat, your body covered in his pathetic marks, his bites, his scratches. he was still hard inside you, his cock still pulsating, still filling you with his cum, still whimpering pathetically. such a sweet sweet boy.
you leaned down, your face inches from his, whispering in his ear, voice low enough for him to hear: "you're mine now, cowboy."
falling in love with your best friend was never on your bucket list, never tucked anywhere among the things you hoped to accomplish in your life, especially not when he suddenly started talking about a girl. or in which you learn just how deeply the thought of a maybe could hurt.
pairing: nonidol!min yoongi x you/reader
warning: resolved feelings, angst, heartbreak
word count: 3.2k
authors note: the next update can take a while (university!! :() if you want to be tagged in the next parts let me know.
series masterlist | previous part | next part
12. november 2020
losing yoongi was never something you thought about. not even for a second. not in passing, not as one of those distant what ifs people sometimes entertain when they're bored or scared of losing things. it simply didn't exist as a possibility in your mind. he had always been there, quiet and constant. never giving you a reason to even think about it.
just like you had never thought you would fall in love with him.
that wasn't supposed to happen either. not to the two of you. not to something that had always felt so stable, so familiar, so safe in the way only lifelong friendships could be. there had never been a moment where everything suddenly changed. no realization that hit you all at once. it had happened slowly, quietly enough that by the time you noticed it, the feelings had already settled too deep inside you to pull back out again.
and maybe that was the cruel part.
because if you had realized it sooner, really realized it, maybe you would have stopped yourself. maybe you would have put distance between the two of you before it became impossible to separate where your friendship ended and your feelings began. especially not when he had a girlfriend. maybe you would have kept your mouth shut during that conversation. maybe yoongi would still be here.
but instead, you lost both things at once.
the best friend you thought you could never lose.
and the version of yourself that still believed some things were permanent.
you still remembered the way he left. how normal it had looked from the outside. no screaming, no dramtic even movie like final words, no hesitation. just him standing up, grabbing his jacket, and walking to the door like he needed air more than he needed to stay.
he never looked back. and that was the part your mind kept replaying in all the quiet moments. not the argument itself. no, just how his hand was on the doorknob. the pause that lasted less than a second. and then the sound of the door shutting behind him while you sat there staring after him like your body still hadn't caught up to what had just happened.
for a while, you genuinely thought he would come back. but god you were so naive. so naive.
you sat there for minutes, maybe hours, you couldn't really tell anymore, staring at the same spot, waiting for the sound of footsteps outside your apartment again. waiting for your phone to light up. waiting for him to text you something short and awkward like we should talk again or i didn't mean it like that.
anything.
you would have taken anything. because despite everything, despite the humiliation burning under your skin and the ache sitting so heavily in your chest you could barely breathe around it, there was still some pathetic part of you that believed yoongi would come back if enough time passed.
that he would realize you were still you. that you were still his best friend before you were anything else, but he didn't come back. and slowly, the reality of that started settling into you in the worst possible ways.
that had been five days ago.
by day five, your heart felt like something had been carved out of it, leaving behind an emptiness so heavy you could physically feel it every time you breathed too deeply. it wasn't the kind of pain people described in movies, wasn't sharp enough to make you collapse or loud enough to consume you all at once. it was quieter than that. worse, somehow. a constant ache sitting beneath everything you did, like there was suddenly a missing piece inside of you, something essential that had been there for so long you never considered what it would feel like without it.
without him.
and still, you couldn't cry.
that was the part that made you feel the most pathetic, because what exactly did you even have the right to cry over? nothing had technically happened to you. yoongi hadn't betrayed you. hadn't lied to you. hadn't broken your heart in the way people usually meant when they said those words. he had simply reacted to something you should have never let happen in the first place.
your feelings.
that was the root of all of this, wasn't it?
if you had never fallen in love with him, none of it would have happened. maybe the conversation would've stayed calm. maybe you could've fixed things before they turned into whatever this was now. maybe he wouldn't have looked at you so differently by the end of it, like he suddenly didn't know where to place you anymore.
maybe he wouldn't have left.
that thought replayed in your mind endlessly, exhausting itself into every corner of your day. you kept going over the conversation piece by piece, searching for some exact moment where you could've stopped it from becoming irreversible. some sentence you should've swallowed instead of saying out loud. some reaction you should've softened. some version of yourself that would have known better than to let feelings ruin the one relationship in your life that had always felt permanent.
because maybe then yoongi would still be here.
maybe then you wouldn't still remember the sound of the door closing behind him so vividly. maybe then you wouldn't have spent hours afterward staring at the same spot, waiting for him to come back even though some part of you already knew he wouldn't.
it was your fault.
by day ten, the anger was gone.
even the guilt had dulled around the edges, exhausted from repeating itself over and over again in your head until there was nothing left to argue with. in its place came something worse. something quieter.
an emptiness so endless it felt like it was slowly consuming you from the inside out.
it settled into everything. into the silence of your apartment, into the hours after work, into the spaces between your thoughts where yoongi used to exist that you had never noticed how much room he occupied until all that space turned hollow.
you kept finding yourself staring into nothing without realizing how long you had been doing it. minutes passing unnoticed while your mind drifted somewhere far away, detached from everything around you. sometimes you would sit on the edge of your bed still wearing your shoes after coming home from work, eyes fixed on the wall across from you while the sky outside darkened slowly without you noticing.
and strangely enough, you couldn't even replay the argument anymore.
not properly.
it was like your mind had blurred the edges of it on purpose. the words, the exact things that had been said. they slipped away from you every time you tried to hold onto them. you remembered the feeling of it more than the conversation itself. remembered the heaviness in your chest, the way yoongi had looked at you differently by the end of it, the sound of the door closing behind him.
but the words themselves felt distant now.
faded.
like your brain had decided there was no point torturing yourself with specifics anymore when the outcome remained the same regardless.
your phone lit up constantly beside you.
messages from your friends. missed calls. small check-ins that grew gradually more worried the longer you ignored them.
are you okay?
please answer.
at least tell us you're alive.
sometimes you opened the messages. sometimes you just stared at the notifications appearing one after another across your screen until it eventually went dark again, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer.
not because you didn't want to.
you just... couldn't.
even reaching for your phone felt exhausting somehow, like forming words required more energy than you had left in you. and what were you even supposed to say anyway?
i'm fine felt like a lie.
i'm not okay felt too real.
so instead, you said nothing at all.
by day fifteen, it felt like your life had continued without you.
somehow, the days kept moving forward even though a part of you still felt stuck back there, in that apartment, in that conversation, in the moment yoongi walked out the door without looking back. the world hadn't paused for you the way some childish part of you had almost expected it to. people still laughed around you. your coworkers still complained about work. the trains still arrived on time. mornings still came whether you wanted them to or not.
and somehow, you kept moving with it.
you got up.
you went to work.
you came home.
you slept.
the routine continued so naturally it almost felt cruel.
because wasn't this supposed to hurt more visibly? weren't you supposed to fall apart properly after losing someone who had been part of your life for so long? instead, everything around you remained painfully normal, while you moved through it feeling strangely disconnected from all of it, like your body had memorized how to function without needing you fully present anymore.
and maybe that was what frightened you most.
how easy it apparently was for life to continue.
because somehow, it had to, didn't it?
people lost things all the time. people lost relationships, friendships, versions of themselves they thought would stay forever. and eventually, no matter how devastating it felt in the moment, life still dragged them forward anyway.
so maybe this was normal too.
maybe this empty feeling settling deeper into your chest each day was simply what moving on looked like before it actually became healing.
or maybe you were just getting used to the absence.
that thought lingered with you longer than you wanted it to.
because no matter how much time passed, there were still moments where your hand twitched toward your phone before you remembered there would be no new message from yoongi waiting for you. moments where something funny happened at work and your first instinct was still to tell him about it before reality settled back in again.
small moments.
stupid moments.
the kind that hurt worse than the big ones sometimes.
and despite everything, despite the silence stretching between you longer and longer with each passing day, some pathetic part of you still expected him to come back eventually.
not because you believed he loved you back.
but because you couldn't understand how someone could be your entire life for years and suddenly become nothing at all.
day twenty. or maybe twenty-one. or even twenty-two.
you couldn't even say for sure anymore.
the days had started blending together somewhere after the second week, melting into the same dull routine until dates stopped mattering altogether. mornings came, evenings passed, and somehow another day disappeared before you could fully register it had even started.
so when your doorbell rang, the sound startled you more than it should have.
you frowned slightly from where you were sitting on the couch, your gaze slowly lifting toward the door as the ringing echoed through your apartment again. for a moment, you just stared ahead blankly, your brain sluggishly trying to process who would even come by unannounced.
your friends had stopped trying after a while.
not completely, but enough to give you space after your lack of replies became answer enough on its own.
the bell rang a second time.
you pushed yourself up slowly, your body heavy in that strange, exhausting way it had been lately, before dragging yourself toward the door without much thought. honestly, part of you considered not opening it at all.
until some small, stupid part of your chest betrayed you for half a second.
because for one humiliating moment, your mind wondered if it was him.
if somehow yoongi had changed his mind. if maybe he missed you too. still after all this time there was a hope.
you opened the door anyway.
and your breath caught slightly when you saw who was standing there.
"jimin?"
jimin's expression softened almost immediately when he saw you properly.
he looked at you quietly for a moment, taking in the oversized hoodie, the tired eyes, the fact that you looked like you hadn't properly slept in days. not in a pitying way people sometimes looked at someone they thought was falling apart. instead, he looked at you as if he instantly knew what was wrong.
"hey," he said gently.
your hand tightened slightly around the door handle. "hey."
there was a short silence before he tilted his head a little.
"can i come in?"
you hesitated for half a second before stepping aside wordlessly, letting him walk past you into the apartment. jimin glanced around briefly, and the look in his eyes told you immediately he noticed the state of it. not dirty exactly, just... abandoned. dishes still standing in the sink. blankets thrown over the couch. curtains still half closed even though it was the middle of the afternoon.
you suddenly felt embarrassed by it.
by yourself.
jimin sat down slowly on the edge of the couch while you remained standing for a moment, arms crossed loosely around yourself before eventually sitting down on the opposite side.
another silence settled.
then, quietly, he asked, "how are you?"
the answer came automatically.
"good."
jimin looked at you for maybe two seconds before letting out a small breath through his nose.
you swallowed slowly before speaking again.
"i'm good really."
"you don't have to try with me," he said softly. "i can literally see it on your face."
your eyes dropped immediately to your hands.
"and honestly," he added, not cruelly, if anything almost fondly, "you're a really bad liar."
something in your chest tightened painfully at that, because under different circumstances you would've rolled your eyes at him. would've argued back automatically. but now the words just made you feel tired.
"do the others know?"
jimin's expression shifted slightly at that. not surprised. more like he had expected the question eventually.
he leaned back a little, his voice staying careful. "i'm not here to talk about that."
you gave a quiet humorless laugh, nodding once to yourself.
"so they do know."
jimin stayed silent for a second too long.
then finally, quietly—
"yeah."
the word settled heavily between you.
and somehow, despite already knowing the answer before he said it, hearing it out loud still made heat crawl up your neck in humiliation.
you looked away quickly, jaw tightening slightly.
"great."
"hey." jimin's voice softened immediately. "it's not like that."
"then how is it?" you asked quietly, still not looking at him. "because i'm pretty sure everyone knowing your best friend confessed to someone who doesn't want her back is exactly as pathetic as it sounds."
"no one thinks you're pathetic."
you laughed again softly under your breath, exhausted more than amused. "jimin."
he frowned slightly then, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
"i mean it," he said more firmly this time. "and honestly? most of us were more worried about you than anything else."
that made you finally look at him again.
worried.
the word felt strange, because somehow you hadn't really considered that people could look at this situation and feel sorry for you instead of embarrassed by you.
jimin held your gaze for a moment before speaking more carefully.
"you disappeared."
his tone wasn't accusing.
which somehow made it worse.
"you stopped answering texts. calls. no one's seen you outside of work in like more than two weeks." he paused shortly before adding quieter, "you really think we wouldn't notice?"
then he added, "and yoongi didn't show up either."
your chest tightened immediately at the sound of his name, subtle but enough for jimin to notice.
he sighed softly through his nose. "you really think we couldn't figure out what happened?"
you looked away again without answering.
"come on," he said gently, though there was a faint layer of disbelief underneath it now. "you two spent practically every second together for years. and then suddenly neither of you are around anymore?" he shook his head slightly. "we're not stupid. people can do one plus one."
you swallowed hard, fingers tightening against the sleeves of your hoodie.
"doesn't mean they know details," jimin added quickly, like he could see the panic starting to settle into your expression. "most of them just know something happened."
"that's somehow not better," you muttered quietly.
jimin's expression softened again immediately.
"hey." his voice lowered slightly. "no one's making fun of you."
you didn't answer.
jimin looked at you for a long moment, like he was carefully choosing his next words.
then he sighed quietly, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting against his knees.
"i don't want to know what you two talked about," he said softly. "seriously. i'm not here to interrogate you or pick sides or whatever you think this is."
your throat tightened slightly at that, but you stayed quiet.
jimin's voice softened even more.
"i just want to be here for you."
the words were so simple.
so painfully simple.
"and whenever you're ready," he continued carefully, "if you ever wanna talk about it, then we can. i'll listen. but right now?" his eyes met yours fully for the first time since he arrived. "right now i'm just here with you."
something inside you broke at that.
completely.
because for the past weeks, everything inside of you had felt trapped, compressed so tightly into your chest that even breathing sometimes felt exhausting. you had spent days forcing yourself not to cry because crying meant admitting this was real. admitting it hurt exactly as much as it did.
and the second jimin said those words, the second someone finally stopped asking questions and simply stayed.
the tears came.
all at once.
your vision blurred so suddenly it startled you, and before you could stop it, tears were already spilling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. weeks worth of exhaustion and grief and humiliation crashing into you all at once so violently it made your chest ache.
you lowered your head immediately, one hand pressing hard against your mouth like that would somehow stop the sound threatening to leave you.
it didn't.
"hey, hey—" jimin's voice turned quiet instantly, concerned in a way that only made you cry harder.
you shook your head quickly, tears falling faster now, your breathing uneven and embarrassing and impossible to control after holding everything in for so long.
"it hurts," you managed out finally, your voice breaking apart halfway through the words. "it hurts so bad, jimin."
he didn't interrupt you. didn't tell you to calm down. didn't tell you it would pass. he just moved closer carefully, like he was afraid you'd pull away if he did it too fast, before wrapping his arms around you without another word.
ans the second you felt someone hold you again, really hold you, the reality of how alone you had been these past weeks hit you all at once.
you cried into his shoulder helplessly, your fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie like you needed something solid to hold onto while everything inside you came apart.
"i know," jimin murmured quietly, one hand moving slowly up and down your back. "i know."
but he didn't.
not really.
because how could anyone understand what it felt like to lose the person who had been part of almost every corner of your life?
how could you explain that it wasn't just heartbreak?
in which the combination of ovulation and teacher mode hoseok can be really dangerous or in which a dance break leads to hoseok showing how good of a teacher he can be.
pairing: idol!jung hoseok x you/reader
warning: 18+, explicit sex scenes, explicit language
word count: 2.7k
authors note: a short one shot because why not.
"shit, baby," hoseok moaned, a low, guttural vibration against your ear as he thrusted into you from behind. each powerful drive of his hips pushing you harder against the cold wall of the supply closet. you couldn't suppress your own moan. a helpless cry escaping your lips as the thick head of his cock struck that perfect spot deep inside you. "your pussy is heavenly," he breathed, his fingers wandering down from where they'd been gripping your hip, finding the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.
you threw your head back against his chest as his fingers began to circle your clit with a pressure that pushed you dangerously close to the edge. "be quiet or the others will hear us," he hissed through his teeth, his voice a harsh whisper. "or do you want the others to hear how i'm fucking you in a supply closet?"
you whimpered, the sound pathetic, even to your own ears. you had ridden yourself into this situation, your own impatience and desperation leading you to this. because what you were ovulating and suddenly seeing him in his trainer mode was the hottest thing you ever saw? every sharp command, every moment of focused intensity, was a direct line to your core. how him scolding the others for not doing enough or making a mistake, his voice firm and unforgiving, made you rub your thighs together for some kind of friction. so pathetic.
"hoseok, harder," your voice was barely distinguishable from a moan, a ragged, desperate plea.
hoseok behind you let out a breathless laugh. and suddenly, you were pressed further into the wall as he drove into you with renewed vigor. "any moment someone could walk in," he whispered, his voice a teasing, dangerous murmur against your ear. your pussy clenching around him, a traitorous, involuntary reaction to the thrill of his words. "ah, you like that, don't you?"
the question hung in the air, a mocking knowing taunt that made your cheeks burn with a mixture of shame and undeniable arousal. you couldn't answer, couldn't form a single coherent thought, let alone a denial, because the truth was that you did like it. you liked the risk, the danger, the thought of being discovered.
he rammed into you, the words punctuated by a brutal, punishing thrust that stole the air from your lungs and sent a jolt of pleasure so intense it was almost painful through your entire body. "s-shit, did it get you this wet just from hearing me coach the others?" he grunted, his voice a low, smug purr against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "did you get off on hearing me tell them what to do, wishing it was you i was ordering around?"
his words were a filthy, humiliating, an unvarnished truth that you couldn't deny, even if you wanted to. he knew.
he laughed again, a low, dark sound that vibrated through his chest and into your back, a stark contrast to the frantic rhythm of his hips. "answer me," he commanded, his voice a low growl, his fingers tightening on your hip. "did you like hearing my voice, telling them what to do? did you pretend it was you i was directing, you i was pushing to your limits?"
you could only shake your head, a frantic, desperate denial that was betrayed by the way your body was responding to him. by the slick, undeniable evidence of your arousal coating his cock, by the way your inner walls were clenching around him for more. he didn't believe you, of course. he knew you too well, knew the way your mind worked, the way your body responded to his voice, his touch, his presence. he knew you were lying.
"liar," he breathed, the word a soft, intimate caress, a final, damning condemnation. "you're such a fucking liar, and you know it." and with that, he pulled you head and bended it so that you could see his eyes burning, "now," he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl, "you're going to tell me exactly what you were thinking, exactly what you wanted me to do to you or you won't come."
the words were stuck in your mouth.
"come on," he pressed, his voice a low, persuasive murmur. "don't get shy on me now. not after you practically begged me to fuck you in here. tell me what you were imagining when you were watching me. was it this? did you want me to bend you over the nearest piece of equipment and fuck you in front of everyone?"
your breath hitched in your throat, the image his words painted so vivid, so debauched, making your knees tremble and your heart pound against your ribs. you couldn't speak, couldn't form a single word, your mind a chaotic mess of shame and desire.
"or maybe," he continued, his voice dropping even lower, a conspiratorial whisper that was somehow even more intimidating, "maybe you wanted me to pull you into a room, close the door, and have my way with you. is that it? did you want me to spread you out and taste you, to make you come on my tongue until you couldn't remember your own name?"
you whimpered, a pathetic, desperate sound that was all the answer he needed. he knew. he'd known all along.
"i knew it," he breathed, the smug, triumphant smile on his lips impossible to miss. "you're such a dirty little girl, aren't you? so desperate for my cock that you'll take it anywhere, anytime, won't you?" and before you could answer, before you could even process his words, he pulled your head closer and kissed, all teeth and tongue.
his tongue delved into your mouth, leaving you breathless and dizzy. his hands were everywhere, one tangled in your hair, holding you in place, the other roaming your body, in a slow, deliberate way. teasing you. reminding you that he was in control.
he pulled back, his lips swollen and glistening, his eyes dark and intense, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. "look at you," he breathed, his voice a low, husky murmur. "so fucking beautiful when you're falling apart for me."
his thumb brushed over your lower lip, gentle, almost tender. "i could fuck you for hours," he continued, his voice dropping even lower, a low, intimate confession that made your heart skip a beat. "i could fuck you until you forgot your own name, until the only thing you can remember was the feel of my cock inside you, the sound of my voice in your ear."
your breathing, already ragged, became a series of sharp, shallow pants, and a soft, helpless whimper escaped your lips with every slow, deliberate thrust. he slowed his pace even further, his movements becoming almost lazy, a torturous, languid rhythm that was designed to push you to the very brink of madness, to make you beg for the release he was so cruelly denying you.
"that's it," he breathed, his voice a low, encouraging murmur against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "i can feel you. you're so close, aren't you? you're right there, baby. just let go. let me have it." his fingers, which had been stroking your clit with a slow, teasing pressure, began to move with a renewed urgency, a firm, relentless circles that pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your body a trembling.
just as you felt the first tremors of your orgasm begin to build, a low, insistent buzz emanated from the pocket of his jeans,. it was his phone, a frantic, persistent vibration. he ignored it at first, his focus solely on you, but the buzzing continued. you head turned back at him.
a slow, wicked smile spread across his face. he saw your fear, and he liked it. he liked it a lot. with a low, chuckle, he reached into his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate, a cruel, calculated tease. he pulled out his phone, the bright screen a harsh, intrusive light and held it up between you, his eyes never leaving yours.
he pulled slightly down, his lips brushing against your ear, a slow, deliberate movement that made you shudder with anticipation. "it’s namjoon" he whispered. "should i answer it? should i let the guys hear how i'm fucking you in here when i should be back in the practice room? should i let them hear how you're begging for my cock, how you're about to come all over me?" his words filthy, humiliating, making your cheeks burn and your pussy clench.
"yeah?" he said, his voice low. he kept his thrusts slow, but deep, a punishing, deliberate rhythm that made it impossible for you to think, to focus on anything but the feel of him inside you. "you’re such a filthy slut. my filthy slut."
he swiped to answer.
"hoseok? man, where the hell are you? we're all waiting," namjoon's voice, tinny and distorted, echoed through the small space. he put it on speaker. on speaker? what if he would hear anything? shit. a wave of panic shot through you, and you instinctively tried to pull away.
but his grip was like iron. one arm locked around your waist, pinning you to him, while the other held the phone between you. and then, as namjoon's voice continued to drone on, he began to move again. it was a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, a deep, grinding thrust that sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure through you. you bit down hard on your lower lip, the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth, an attempt to stifle the whimper that was threatening to escape. you nails digging into your palms.
hoseok's smile widened, his eyes glinting as he watched you struggle. he was enjoying this, enjoying your humiliation, enjoying the power he held over you in this moment. "i'm on the can," he said, his voice a nonchalant murmur, a stark contrast to the brutal, punishing rhythm of his hips. "give me five minutes."
"five minutes no more," and with that, he hung up, tossing his phone onto a nearby shelf with a careless, dismissive flick of his wrist.
"now," he breathed, his voice a low, dangerous growl, a stark contrast to the casual, dismissive tone he'd used with namjoon.
"where were we?" and with that, he resumed his relentless, punishing rhythm, his hips snapping forward with a brutal force that stole your breath and made your head spin. he was no longer teasing, no longer drawing out the pleasure.
he didn't give you a moment to recover from the shock, from the lingering terror of being so close to discovery. the second the phone clicked off, his hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in, and the rhythm of his hips became punishing, brutal. each thrust was a deep, powerful stroke that knocked the air from your lungs, that sent a jolt of pleasure so intense it was almost painful through your entire body.
"that's it," he growled, his voice a low, guttural snarl against your ear. "take it. take every fucking inch. you wanted this, didn't you? you wanted me to fuck you like this, to remind you who's in charge."
he reached down, his fingers finding your clit, still swollen and hypersensitive from his earlier attention. he didn't just rub; he pressed down hard, a firm, unyielding pressure that was the final, devastating blow. "come for me baby," he commanded, his voice a low, authoritative roar that was a final, undeniable order. "now."
and with his words, with his touch, with the brutal, relentless rhythm of his hips, you shattered. a strangled cry tore from your throat, a broken, desperate sound that was a mix of his name and a string of nonsensical curses. your body convulsed, your inner walls clenching around him in a rhythmic, pulsating release that was so intense it was almost painful. your vision went white, the sound of his voice, the pleasure that was consuming you from the inside out. leaving you breathless and boneless, a limp doll in his arms, your body trembling with the force of your release, your mind a blank, blissful void.
the way your body convulsed, the way your inner walls clamped down around him in a vice-like grip, was his undoing. it was a silken, milking pull that stole his last shred of control, a final, desperate plea. he buried himself deep inside you with a final, brutal thrust, a guttural, primal "shit" tearing from his throat as he found his own release in you.
his body collapsed against yours, his full weight pinning you to the wall, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged, shallow pants that fanned across your sweat-slicked skin. you could feel his heart hammering against your back, a frantic beat that echoed the pounding of your own.
for a long moment, you just stayed there, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. his weight a comforting, grounding pressure against your back, his forehead still resting on your shoulder as he struggled to regain his composure. finally, with a soft, weary sigh, he pushed himself up, leaving you feeling suddenly cold and empty.
you turned to face him, the dim light from the crack under the door casting a soft, hazy glow over his features. his hair was a mess, a wild, disheveled halo around his face, and his lips were swollen and glistening, a testament to the ferocity of your kisses. you reached up, your fingers gently combing through the tangled strands, a soft, tender gesture that was at odds with the raw, primal intensity of your earlier encounter. he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, a sigh escaping his lips.
"you look like you've been through a war," he murmured, a low, teasing rumble that made you smile. you couldn't help but let out a laugh. "look who's talking," you retorted, your voice a husky whisper.
"i love you baby," he said, his voice a soft, sincere murmur.
you smiled, a slow, genuine smile that reached you eyes, "i love you more," you said.
taking a deep, steadying breath, he opened the door, after making sure that you weren't looking like you fucked your brains out. he stepped out first, holding the door open for you. you followed him out.
the guys were still scattered across the floor, recovering from practice, limbs everywhere, shirts clinging to damp skin, the air thick with heat and effort, but the second the door opened, everything paused just long enough to acknowledge your presence.
or rather both of you.
"sorry, boys," he said, his tone relaxed, almost amused. "took a little longer than expected."
there was a beat, just long enough for that to settle, for the implication of it to hang there in the air, before anyone even responded.
and then jin, shifted slightly where he was sitting, his expression already giving him away before he even opened his mouth. the smirk came first, his gaze moving between you and hoseok with far too much awareness for your liking.
"yeah," he said, dragging the word out just enough to make it worse, "we noticed."
you could feel it immediately, the heat rising, creeping up your neck in a way that made it impossible to ignore, especially with the way the others were now watching a little more closely, a little more interested than before.
and maybe, just maybe, you could've recovered from that. could've ignored the tone, brushed it off, pretended like nothing about this was as obvious as it felt.
if jin had stopped there. which, of course, he didn't.
"you might want to," he continued, "wipe the lipstick off your neck, hoseok."
I WOULD LOVEEEE TO SEE POST DATING SHM COUPLE!!! I think it would be interesting to see the aftermath after that night, how they interact if they act any differently,,,, sora <_<. I’m messy like that, BUT I would love to see them be just sweeter to each other in general~~~ I hope you do take up on that Drabble because I would love to see it~~~ 🤍🤍🤍🤍
i will keep all of this in mind. right now i have a couple of other one shots etc. i’m working on. after that hopefully i will start writing the drabble(s) <3
Hi I was wondering if you planning time skip in Maybe? I just thought that since current chapters were taking place in 2020…
yes, i’m planning to do a time skip. right now the chapters are still closer together in time, but the next ones will be spaced further and further apart.
falling in love with your best friend was never on your bucket list, never tucked anywhere among the things you hoped to accomplish in your life, especially not when he suddenly started talking about a girl. or in which you learn just how deeply the thought of a maybe could hurt.
pairing: nonidol!min yoongi x you/reader
warning: resolved feelings, angst, heartbreak
word count: 4k
authors note: after a looong time another maybe-update. if you want to be tagged in the next parts let me know.
series masterlist | previous part | next part
21. october 2020
you had thought about texting yoongi for longer than you were willing to admit, the idea circling your mind over and over agai, but never turning into action. no matter how often you told yourself that it would be easier to just get it over with, to say something instead of letting the silence stretch, but every time you opened the chat, every time your thumb hovered over the keyboard, something in you hesitated.
jimin's voice in the back of your mind, telling you just talk to him, that it would clear things up, that whatever you were avoiding would only get worse the longer you let it sit unresolved, and you had agreed, because it made sense, because it sounded simple when it was reduced to words, but somehow that didn't translate into actually doing it, into pressing send. instead of staring at a screen. instead, you kept opening the chat and closing it again, over and over, your gaze catching on the last message every single time.
see you.
it had been yours and after that nothing.
no reply, no follow-up, not even the small, almost meaningless confirmation that he had seen it, just silence.
days passed like that and before you knew it weeks, until eventually you started telling yourself that not texting him was also a decision, that leaving things as they were counted as something you had chosen rather than something you had avoided, even if that distinction felt thinner the more you thought about it.
a few days later, you did open the chat again and this time you didn't close it immediately, your fingers actually moving, typing out a message that sat there for a moment, unfinished and uncertain, before you stared at it long enough to find reasons why it wasn't right, why it sounded off, why it could be misunderstood, until deleting it felt easier than sending it.
day seven came after a night that hadn't really been sleep so much as lying awake with your thoughts refusing to quiet down, and maybe that was why you sent it. not because you had finally found the right words, but because you hadn't, because thinking about it had stopped helping.
we need to talk.
it wasn't what you had planned, not even close to what you had been going over in your head for days. the different versions of the same message you had rewritten over and over again. something like hi yoongi, how are you? maybe we could meet for a coffee? or what do you think about you, me, and our favorite café? you had given yourself options, had tried to shape something that didn't sound like you had been thinking about this conversation for far longer than you wanted to admit, that didn't scream distance or tension.
you had wanted it to sound effortless.
like nothing had changed. like you weren't sitting there, rereading every word before sending it, wondering if it sounded too distant, too much like you were trying to fix something that had already shifted between you.
you had thought about all of that.
but in that moment, none of it was there. you didn't think about how it would sound, didn't think about how he would read it, didn't stop to consider whether it carried more weight than you intended. you didn't think at all.
you just sent it.
day eight you found him sitting across from you on the couch.
and it was strange. more than strange, actually.
it felt wrong in a way, because nothing about the situation should have felt unfamiliar, not his presence, not the simple fact of being in the same room as him, and yet everything felt slightly off, like something between you two had shifted just enough to make it noticeable but enough to say that it was not in a good way.
you hadn't expected this part. you hadn't expected the silence.
not like this.
because silence with him had never been a problem before, it had never been something that needed to be filled or fixed or navigated carefully, it had always been easy, coming from knowing someone so well that you didn't need to prove it through constant conversation. you could sit for hours next to each other and not talk and it wouldn't have been this strange.
i mean he is, or at least was, your best friend. your constant. your yoongi.
and now you realised that you had never questioned that. you never thought about what it meant to lose it. to lose him.
and yet now you were sitting across from him, your hands resting in your lap, your fingers curling slightly as if they needed something to hold onto, and when you tried to speak, nothing came out. not because you didn't have anything to say, but because suddenly, saying it felt harder than it should have.
your hands were shaking.
slightly. you hadn't expected to feel nervous. at least definitely not like this.
and the longer you at him, the more you realised that something felt different. not the situation. no, it was something else. something that made you look twice, like you were trying to figure out what exactly changed without really knowing where to start.
it wasn't anything obvious. but the more you looked, the more it added up. his hair, it was longer than you remembered, not just grown out but actually styled, like he cared about how it sat instead of just letting it do whatever. it framed his face differently now, but he looked good. really good.
and then there were the clothes, they were new. a bit more put together, a bit more thought behind it, like he didn't just grab whatever was clean anymore. not the oversized hoodies he used to live in, not the ripped jeans that had somehow become part of him. no, his jeans were looser now, cleaner, sitting differently on him, paired with things that actually matched instead of just it suited him. it was almost annoying, because it made it seem like this had happened without you really noticing when it started.
maybe that was the weird part.
not that he had changed, but that you hadn't really realized it while it was happening.
and now you were just standing there, looking at him, trying to match the person in front of you with the version of him you were used to and they didn't quite line up anymore.
so why did it feel like this? why did it feel like you were sitting across from someone you didn't quite know how to talk to anymore? why did it feel like the space between you had stretched into something unfamiliar without you noticing when it happened?
for a moment, you both just sat there in silence, not like the kind of silence you used to share without thinking, but something more deliberate, something that settled between you and stayed there, making it harder to ignore with every passing second, and you couldn't help but wonder if this had been a mistake. if you should have met him somewhere else instead, somewhere less personal, less enclosed, somewhere like a café where the noise of other people would distract you, it might have made it easier to start, easier to pretend that this was just another conversation and not something that had been waiting too long to happen.
maybe that would have been better.
maybe.
he was the one who broke the silence eventually, his voice cutting through it in a way that felt almost too casual for the space you were in.
"long time no see."
you didn't know how to take it, whether it was meant as a joke or an attempt to ease the tension that had already settled too deeply between you, but whatever it was, it didn't quite work, not in the way it probably should have, not in a way that made any of this feel lighter or easier.
if anything, it only made the distance between you more noticeable.
you let the words sit there for a second, longer than necessary, as if giving them time might somehow make them land differently, but they didn't, they just lingered in the space between you, too light for what this was and at the same time too heavy because of everything that had led up to it, and you found yourself staring at him without really meaning to, searching for something in his expression that might explain what he meant by it, or at least make it easier to respond.
but there was nothing obvious to hold on to.
so you exhaled quietly, your gaze dropping for a brief moment before returning to him, your posture shifting slightly. "yeah," you said finally, your voice steady enough, even if it didn't feel like it entirely belonged to you in that moment, "that tends to happen when you don't talk for weeks." the words leaving your mouth before you could register what you said.
it wasn't harsh. not exactly. but it wasn't light either. and maybe you wanted it to be harsh. maybe even hurt him the way he did you.
another brief silence followed, and you could feel the weight of it pressing in again, making it harder to ignore the fact that this wasn't going to be a normal conversation.
you shifted slightly where you sat, your hands coming again together loosely in your lap as you looked at him again, this time more directly, like you were forcing yourself to stay present instead of retreating into your thoughts.
"that tends to happen," he said, his gaze steady on you, "when someone's in a relationship. or not?"
it wasn't accusatory.
not directly.
the words settled somewhere between observation and implication, quiet but deliberate enough that you couldn't ignore what was underneath them, and for a second, you didn't answer, not because you didn't have anything to say, but because you were trying to decide which version of your thoughts you were willing to let out first.
"i didn't realize being in a relationship meant disappearing completely," you replied finally, your voice now tighter.
he didn't look away.
"i didn't disappear," he said.
you let out a small breath, something between a quiet laugh and something amused, your gaze dropping briefly before returning to him.
"right," you said, nodding once, slow, like you were agreeing to something that didn't quite make sense, "because not hearing from you for weeks is just what, normal now?"
the question lingered, pulling the conversation into something more defined, something that was no longer just about filling silence but about everything that had been left unsaid for far too long.
the moment didn't settle after that, his expression didn't soften, didn't give you anything to hold on to, and the calm way he carried himself only made it worse, made it feel like you were the only one reacting to something that apparently, to him, didn't require much reaction at all.
"it's not disappearing," he said, his voice even, "it's just priorities changing. that's normal."
the word lingered in the space between you longer than it should have, not because of what it meant, but because of how easily he said it, how natural it seemed to him, as if this could be reduced to something simple, something expected, something that didn't require further explanation.
"normal," you repeated, quieter, but not softer, your gaze fixed on him as you tried to keep your voice steady, "so not talking to your best friend for weeks is just part of that now."
he exhaled, slow, like he had already anticipated this reaction and had decided it wasn't entirely reasonable. "i didn't say that," he replied, still calm, still measured, "i said things change. i'm in a relationship now, i don't have the same time i used to."
"no," you said, and there was something sharper underneath it now, something that had been building long before this conversation even started, "you just don't make the same time anymore."
"that's not fair," he said after a second, his tone still controlled, but firmer now.
you let out a quiet breath, one that felt more like restraint than anything else, your hands pressing trembling in your lap. "what part of it isn't fair?" you asked, your voice steady enough, even if it didn't feel like it entirely belonged to you in that moment.
"the part where you act like i've done something wrong for living my life," he answered, his gaze steady, unwavering in a way that made it clear he wasn't going to step back from this, "this is what happens. people get into relationships, things change. it's not some personal attack against you."
you stared at him for a moment, because it wasn't just what he was saying, it was how easily he was saying it, how simply he reduced something that hadn't felt simple at all from where you were standing.
"i never said it was a personal attack," you replied, quieter now, choosing each word carefully even as the tension beneath them grew more difficult to contain, "but you don't get to act like nothing changed when it clearly did."
"i'm not acting like nothing changed," he said, his tone getting angrier, "i'm just not turning it into something bigger than it actually is."
that made something in you tighten, your composure slipping just slightly as you let out a breath that held more disbelief than anything else. "bigger than it actually is?"
he didn't say anything.
"it already is bigger than that," you said, your voice more insistent now, even if you were still trying to keep it contained, "you just don't want to acknowledge it."
his gaze shifted at that, enough for you to notice, enough that something in the air changed drastically.
"or," he said slowly, his voice quieter now but far more pointed, "you're the one making it bigger than it needs to be."
you stilled slightly, your jaw tightening as you tried to hold onto whatever control you still had left over this conversation. "i'm reacting to what's there," you said, though it didn't sound as certain as you wanted it to.
"are you?" he asked, and this time there was no mistaking the implication behind it, "or are you reacting to something else?"
the question landed somewhere deeper than you expected, not because you didn't understand it, but because you did, and for a moment you didn't answer, not because you didn't have anything to say, but because you were trying to decide how much of it you were willing to admit.
"what is that supposed to mean?" you asked finally, your voice quieter now.
he held your gaze, steady, almost searching in a way that made it difficult to look away. "it means that the way you're reacting right now doesn't match what you're saying," he replied.
you frowned, your patience thinning further, slipping through your fingers in small, controlled increments. "and what exactly am i saying."
"that this is about us not talking," he said, "about time."
"it is," you answered immediately, too quickly.
"no," he said just as fast, shaking his head slightly, "it's not just that."
something in your chest tightened, your frustration rising now in a way that was harder to keep contained, because he was pushing at something you had been deliberately avoiding, something you had no intention of putting into words.
"then what is it?" you asked, your voice sharper now, the edge no longer as controlled as it had been before.
there was a pause like he was deciding whether or not to say it, and for a second you thought he might let it go, that he might leave it there, let this remain something unresolved but manageable.
but he didn't.
"the way you're acting," he said, his voice still calm but far more direct now, "you'd think you were jealous."
the word didn't need emphasis to land.
it did anyway.
your expression hardened almost immediately, your reaction quicker than you could filter. "that has nothing to do with it," you said, but the firmness in your voice felt thinner than you intended.
"doesn't it?" he asked, not pressing, not raising his voice, just stating it in a way that made it harder to dismiss.
"no," you replied, sharper now, your composure slipping just enough to be noticeable, "it doesn't. what does any of this have to do with jealousy."
"because you're not just upset that we haven't talked," he said, his gaze fixed on you, "you're upset about why."
"i already told you why," you shot back, the words coming faster now.
"you gave me a reason," he corrected, "not the reason."
you let out a short, incredulous breath, your frustration breaking through more clearly now as you leaned back slightly, as if creating distance would help contain it. "so what," you said, "you think i don't want you to be happy, that i'm not happy for you, for nari, that i'm just sitting here bitter because you're in a relationship?"
"i think," he said, steady, unwavering, "that you don't like it as much as you're pretending you do."
that hit closer than you wanted it to, your reaction immediate even if you tried to hide it. "that's not true," you said, but there was hesitation there, small but undeniable.
but he noticed it.
"then why does it bother you this much?" he asked.
you already knew what you were supposed to say. you could feel the answer forming somewhere in the back of your mind. something that wouldn't turn this into what it was clearly about to become, but it never made it past your throat.
"because you don't have time for me anymore," you said instead.
it came out too quickly, and the second the words were there, hanging between you, you felt it the small, immediate regret, like you had just crossed a line you hadn't meant to step over so openly.
he didn't react right away.
he just looked at you.
and there was something about that look that made it worse, because it wasn't confusion, wasn't even surprise, just this quiet stillness, like he was taking a second to decide what to do with what you had just given him.
"that's not the same thing," he said after a moment.
his voice was calm, but not soft.
and somehow that made it feel more final.
you shook your head, your frustration already rising, mixing with something heavier that had been sitting there for weeks now, something you hadn't really put into words until now. "no, it is," you insisted, even if your voice didn't sound as steady as you wanted it to. "you're my best friend, and suddenly i barely see you anymore, we barely talk, everything feels different, and i don't even know when that happened."
he didn't interrupt you, but he didn't look like he agreed either and that only made it harder to stop.
"you weren't even at namjoon's birthday," you continued, your voice tightening slightly, the memory still sitting wrong with you, "and everyone kept asking me where you were, like i would know, like i should know, and i couldn't even answer. i didn't know what to tell them, because i don't even know what you've been doing lately."
you let out a breath, shaking your head slightly, your gaze dropping for a second before lifting again.
"i don't know how you are," you added, voice quit, "i don't know what's going on in your life, what you're thinking, what you're dealing with. and i'm just supposed to act like that doesn't matter?"
he shifted slightly where he stood, like he was thinking about how to respond, but when he finally spoke, it wasn't softer. it was hurtful.
"or maybe," he said, "you should stop making me the center of everything."
you blinked at that.
the words didn't sound harsh on their own, but the way he said them made them land heavier than expected.
"i'm not making you the center of everything," you replied immediately, your tone defensive now, because that wasn't how it felt to you at all.
he held your gaze.
"you are," he said certain in a way that didn't leave much room for argument. "you're talking like i disappeared, like i'm gone, but i'm still here. i just have other things going on too."
that made something twist in your chest.
"yeah," you said, your voice tightening slightly, "i know that. i know you have a girlfriend now, i know you have your own life, i'm not saying you don't, but that doesn't mean i'm just supposed to what? step back and pretend like nothing changed?"
he exhaled, running a hand through his hair, like this conversation was already exhausting him.
"things did change," he admitted.
and for a second, that almost felt like something, like maybe he saw it too, but then he continued.
"that's normal."
the word hit wrong.
normal.
like what you were feeling wasn't.
"normal doesn't mean it doesn't matter," you said, voice so low you couldn't even hear yourself.
he looked at you for a moment longer, something unreadable in his expression.
"i'm your best friend," he said, "not your boyfriend."
and just like that, everything stilled.
it wasn't even said in a way meant to hurt. but it did. more than anything else he had said so far.
you felt it immediately, the way your chest tightened, the way your throat closed up before you could react properly, like your body had already understood the weight of it before your mind caught up.
because no matter how often you had argued before, no matter how far things had gone sometimes, he had never said something like that.
never drawn the line like that.
you opened your mouth, but nothing came out at first, and you had to swallow hard before you could even manage a response.
"i'm not—" you started, then stopped, because you didn't even know how to finish that sentence without making it worse.
he didn't interrupt. didn't step in. just waited.
"i'm not asking you to be that," you said finally, your voice quieter now, more strained than before, "i never said that."
he nodded slightly.
"you didn't have to," he replied.
that made you freeze for a second.
because there was something in the way he said it that felt like he had already come to a conclusion you hadn't fully admitted out loud yet.
"then what are you saying," you asked, your voice barely steady now.
he hesitated for a moment.
and then, "i'm saying you're expecting something from me that i can't give you anymore," he said.
"anymore?" you repeated quietly.
he exhaled, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to you.
"i can't be there the way i used to," he said, more carefully now, like he knew this part mattered, "not all the time, not for everything. i have other priorities now."
you stared at him, because that word, priorities, felt like it rearranged everything without asking you first.
"so i'm just not one of them anymore," you said.
it wasn't meant to sound accusing, but it did.
he shook his head slightly.
"that's not what i said."
"it's what it feels like," you replied immediately, your voice tightening again despite yourself.
there was a pause. longer this time.
"i didn't stop caring about you," he said.
and for a second, you almost wanted to believe that was enough, but it wasn't. because caring wasn't the same as being there and both of you knew it.
"then why does it feel like you did?" you asked.
he didn't answer that right away and maybe that was answer enough.
you looked at him, and for a moment it didn't feel like the same person you had been talking to for years. or maybe it was. maybe this was just a part of him you hadn't had to face before.
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