Hey! Just Wanted To Ask If You Will Be Continuing Your Story 'Rawr XD'? I Liked The First Chapter And

Hey! Just wanted to ask if you will be continuing your story 'Rawr xD'? I liked the first chapter and would like to read more. Sorry for bothering you 🙂

hello! hi! i am continuing all of my stories, writer’s block and work are just kicking my ass right now so i’m incredibly slow in putting chapters out.

thank you for liking it <3 and don’t ever apologise!! you’re not bothering me. feel free to make yourself at home in my askbox!

You’re doing amazing! And your stories are amazing!! 💚

*kisses you directly on the mouth*

thank you macaroni ❤️ your stories are even more amazinger (if that’s even a word) and i would sell all the toes on my left foot to have a shrivel of your talent

why ?? aren’t my posts appearing in the tags? crying rn

Fictober 4/31: I’ll Have My Usual With A Side of You - MYG

- Click HERE for the masterlist!

- Word count: 1.7k

- Warnings: bad writing, ooc yoongi, yn is a barista, a random oc, please ignore the formatting (my phone hates me), yet again: bad writing, i didn’t proof-check this because i haven’t slept in about 24 hours x

Monday- 9:40pm

‘Only twenty minutes until closing’, I repeat in my head, eyes running over the incredibly empty cafe.

There’s only two customers in currently, both students with their eyes glued to laptops and stupidly-large cups full of their caffeine choice with an extra shot or two of espresso beside them.

I had given both a pastry free of charge moments ago, heart clenching as their half-closed and black-rimmed eyes stared back at me, head nodding in thanks.

Jane, the colleague working the closing shift with me, was hiding in the back under the guise of cleaning up the back, a task which shouldn’t have taken her this long even if that’s what she was in fact doing. I strongly suspected she was texting her boyfriend, the owner’s son, asking if we could close early without getting in trouble. I hope that one day he’ll say yes or at least get him to alter the opening hours to something more normal, rather than 7am-10pm, it’s ridiculous!

The door chimes, bringing me out of my thoughts. A quick glance at the clock before one to the customer tells me it’s still only 9:41pm, 19 minutes until closing.

“Good evening, what can I get you?” I ask automatically, running my eyes up and down the customer in question. He’s fitted in an oversized black hoodie and distressed jeans, tiredness clear in his eyes as his eyes run over the pastry/dessert counter.

“A large iced coffee with two shots of espresso and a small cup of whipped cream please.”

“Anything from the pastry or desserts? They’re free in the last fifteen minutes, or they’ll be thrown away.” I offer, finished punching in his coffee order and already tapping through the various prompts.

“Can I get those two chocolate croissants? And anything you can recommend?” His eyes meet mine over the screen, anxiously gnawing on his bottom lip.

“The cupcakes are good. We have some red velvet and chocolate ones left, they have cat and dog faces too. We also have a couple of peanut butter cookies, assuming the whipped cream is for a dog.” I ramble, pretending to busy myself with the sugar packets as I attempt to avoid his pretty eyes.

Gorgeous men, they’ve always been my downfall.

“I’ll take three chocolates, four red velvet and a couple of the cookies.” I nod in reply, beginning to package up his desserts and calling out for Jane to start on his coffee and see if the two students need anything else before we close.

“Alright, do you have a loyalty card with us?”

“No, but I’m going to start needing one.” I simply nod in reply, sliding him one over the counter and instructing him how to register before announcing his total.

Just as he pays, Jane arrives and begins on his coffee. His eyes avert to his phone, tapping away and frowning at the harsh brightness compared to the semi-dimness of the cafe. I slide around the counter, approaching the other two customers with a side-glance to the clock: 9:46pm.

“We’re closing soon, we’re taking any last orders now.” I’m careful not to speak too loudly to them, recognising the tell-tale signs of working through stress migraines but I still speak loud enough that they’ll hear me through their spinning thoughts.

Individually, they nod, checking the contents of their cups as I walk back to the counter.

The man happily grabs his coffee once Jane places it on the counter next to the pastries (which I had sorted into a bag beforehand.)

I keep my eyes on him, enthralled by the man. He’s so effortlessly attractive.

Sighing, I glance at the clock as he leaves.

9:50pm.

I glance at the two students packing up, eyes nearly falling closed with every move and final dregs of coffee chugged.

Jane begins to wipe down the machines and restock the cups while I empty out the till of notes and restock it with change ready for the morning shift.

I always hate when I’m on the morning shift and there’s no change left in the till! It always seems to coincide when a customer wants to pay with big notes (who the hell has such a high note at that ungodly time in the morning anyway?!)

My mind runs back to the man from earlier. I should really get out more.

Wednesday - 11:17am

“Yoongi!” I hear a voice call out right before someone crashes into me, sending the tray I was holding (thanking every deity out there that the cups and plates were empty) flying out of my hand and crashing to the floor alongside me and the stranger.

Porcelain and glass litters the floor, alongside empty sugar packets and soggy paper straws. My head and body throb, groans sounding when I try to sit up.

Much deeper, louder groans can also be heard from my right yet I pay no attention. The throb in my head is worse than the rest, the pain making my head spin and my stomach turn.

Several footsteps and voices can be heard as they rush over, kicking glass shards and half a porcelain plate across the wooden floor. A screeching sound begins from somewhere close, too human-like to be a siren but almost too high in pitch to be human.

I’m brought out of my haziness by a hand snapping right in my face, almost catching my nose.

“Oh no! Hyung you’ve killed her!”

“She’s breathing you idiot!”

“Probably not for long, you’ve knocked the poor girl practically unconscious!”

“Would the both of you shut up? My head’s throbbing.” The man next to me groans, sounding familiar.

“Yoongi-hyung, you’re going to be charged for manslaughter!”

“I don’t know which one of you is making that dreaded screeching sound, but I won’t hesitate to throw this plate at you.” I grumble, almost smiling with the silence that is now present.

“Sorry about that.” A new voice appears, squatting down in-front of me. His hand is outstretched, a gentle smile on his face. I don’t trust it.

“Namjoon, leave the poor girl alone.” That familiar voice appears once again, my head swivelling around to see if I can place who it belongs to.

Him.

The man from the other night.

Mr iced coffee with an extra two shots of espresso.

How does he look even more attractive?!

I avert my eyes away from what must be one of the most attractive men in the world to the smashed cups and plates littering the floor. It’s a mess: a cacophony of porcelain and glass (not to mention the occasional sugar packet) strewn across the floor and under tables and chairs. I’ll probably still be here after my shift ends, making sure every inch of the mess is long gone with no chance of making any unsightly appearances.

“Hey, sorry about the mess. I’m Yoongi, by the way.”

Yoongi. A handsome name for a handsome man.

Two weeks later - Monday - 6:03pm

The cafe is completely empty, not a customer in sight. Surprisingly, Jane isn’t hiding away in the back, she’s sat at one of the tables staring out of the window. Meanwhile, I’m arranging the cups and plates in size order, utterly bored out of my mind.

Neither Yoongi or his merry band of idiots has turned up the past few days and it’s made the days go slower. Even when it’s not the hottie himself, usually one of his friends is hidden within one of the booths with a stupidly large caffeinated drink in hand and a joke ready to crack.

Maybe they found a new coffee shop with an even hotter and funnier barista.

Maybe they realised it’d be much cheaper and easier to make their coffee themselves at home.

Maybe I did something to offend them.

“Y/N? Issei says we can close early! Bye!” Jane flies past me, swiftly pulling her coat on and flying out of the door.

She had deep-cleaned everything about half an hour ago, much to my confusion, but it makes sense now. She must’ve jumped on the phone straight after we had finished cleaning yet I can’t find it in myself to be mad at her.

Switching off the lights and flipping around the open sign, I exit the coffee shop: triple-checking that the door is locked and no-one had somehow snuck in or had been waiting outside.

I manage to get about halfway home before rain begins to slap against the pavement and drench my hair. Wet strands stick to my face and neck, clothes clinging to every curve of my body. Desperately, I quicken my pace.

Just as I do, a car speeds up and flies by me, driving through the puddle that was beginning to form at the side of the road and splashing me! My legs, now thoroughly soaked, tried to speed up again to get home and be as dry as I could.

Another vehicle drives past, much slower than the last, however I still try to jump to the other side of the pavement to escape the rainwater. The vehicle; an old electric scooter, slows to a stop beside me.

“Hey, Y/N right? Do you need a ride?” A voice calls out from the person driving, the helmet muffling most of what he said.

“Look, I don’t know how you know my name but please leave me alone.” I spit, spinning around to continue walking off. Their hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, the other lifting the visor to expose his face: Yoongi.

“How are you going to make me my americano if you catch your death out here? Climb on.” He tries, motioning with his hand. I glance between the bike and him, unsurely staring at his helmet. “You can take mine.”

“Promise me that you won’t get into an accident? I’m not the biggest fan of hospitals and I’m still recovering from the tackle you gave me a few weeks back.” I climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his chest as he fires the engine up.

“Damn, I was really looking forward to playing doctor and patient.”

“Yoongi! I barely know you!”

“Do you want to change that?” He mutters, slightly glancing behind him to see me staring up at him.

“Coffee?”

“Coffee.”

I'm happy they're doing it on their own terms.

But of course they will be missed until 2025.

To wake up to this was hard but at least they're doing it their way.

I'm not gonna stop writing about these beautiful boys.

If anything it makes me want to write more. I have so much more that I want to write about now.

having to work when bts is having what may be their last concert ever is horrible.

why can’t i just be with my boys 💔💔