Yoongi Series - Tumblr Posts
neon signs [masterlist] | myg
title ; neon signs [ drabble series ] pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you
description ;
namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi.
(alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.)
tags ; college!au, fluff, idiots to lovers, they’re both kinda shy and also stupid dense and therefore terribly cute, both of them know the other is the university’s campus crush but neither of them know they themselves are campus crushes, best friend!namjoon, yoongi’s best friend!hoseok, namjoon and hoseok are the most patient and exasperated besties in the world
tracklist ; happening again - katherine li, something - gnash, first love - exo, dimple - bts, healthy - prettymuch
notes ;
um so i absolutely had an angstier fic planned for yoongi but then i thought of this and well. i couldn’t resist
this will probably be another drabble series where i release it out of order but the masterlist will be in order :) i don’t have a schedule planned but i hope y’all enjoy !!
blog tag ; series: nsyg
Keep reading
take five
pairing: yoongi x reader
wordcount: 10k
glimpse: dr. min yoongi’s a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand — oh and also, he’s divorced.
alternatively, you’re yoongi’s nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out — he never said anything about accepting though.
[ angst, fluff, unrequited love, so much pining ]
notes: inspired by yang seok-hyeong and choo min-ha’s dynamic from hospital playlist!! you don’t necessarily have to watch it in order to read this :D this idea has been sitting in my notes for like a year now (yikes) and i’ve only found the wILL to do it now!! took a short break because i’ve been mostly just pumping out stem koo for the past months, but here’s a yoongi piece to cleanse everyone’s palate!! this has got to be one of my favorite pieces ever hee-hee
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback/requests/love to my askbox anytime!!
[ part two ]
“Now where the hell did you hear that?”
Yoongi looks at you incredulously and for a moment, you think you’ve actually hit homerun with your stupid myth of the day because not only does he roll his eyes at you, he also scoffs and stops in his tracks.
“Just somewhere,” you mumble under your breath and hope that Yoongi doesn’t ask you for the exact source and citation because he already looks irked with what he just heard. “But they say it’s true though! If you don’t immediately drink water when you start having hiccups, you would have a breakout the next day or hours later, even.”
There is bliss in ignorance.
There is bliss and beauty in ignorance and it comes in the form of knitted brows and an agape mouth on Dr. Min, his eyes trained on you as if you asked him the stupidest question he's ever heard (you probably did) in his career and perhaps his lifetime.
Every week, from Monday to Saturday, Yoongi comes to his own clinic between the window of 8 to 8:15 in the morning wearing a bucket hat and his choice of clothing to wear under his white coat. Only his right hand would be occupied by the Louis Vuitton Keepall Bandoulière 45 bag, which he later tosses as soon as he enters the clinic and see his employees scramble to catch and save it, just to give himself a little chuckle every morning. He really couldn't care less if none of them manage to catch it, but it's kind of nice having a pointless yet joyful routine.
Additionally, every week, from Monday to Saturday, you come to Serendipity Aesthetics at 7:00 AM to drop off your things so you could walk to the expensive coffee shop to buy equally overrated coffee because after all, your place of work is in the heart of the luxury district. Between the window of 8 to 8:15, Dr. Min walks in and throws his designer bag into the air, to which every employee tries to catch so there wouldn't be a single scratch (but everyone knows that he literally wouldn't care if nobody could save it), and every single time, you're the one who catches his bag.
Also, every week, from Monday to Saturday, you make sure that you're Dr. Min's first interaction of the day.
It always starts with a pathetic skincare myth that you ask him to verify while he either confirms or denies it for you while walking to his office, giving him his coffee that you buy with your own money. It originally started with you searching compilations online and eventually, they got so boring and repetitive that you started making up your own.
The more ridiculous it is, the more reaction you get from Yoongi.
You quickly learned that by now and every morning, you get to see the way he furrows his eyebrows and you're convinced that if you say your myth in a defensive and completely-swayed tone, Dr. Min would actually look at you to deadpan.
This time, however, you probably struck gold.
"I would actually fire you if you even thought for a second that it would be true."
Granted, maybe the gold you thought you've struck is just plated and would turn green overnight.
"Very funny, Dr. Min. No explanation today?" you try to coax one from him because the door to his office is looking especially near and he doesn't allow you to enter anyway.
"I think it's pretty self-explanatory that I studied to be a doctor for more than a decade, have my own clinic, and threatened to fire you for your useless myth of the day, don't you think?" he hums lowly, wiping his finger to press his code onto his door.
"You do have a point," you sheepishly mumble at being outed more harshly for your tactics, "can I ask you something else though?"
Yoongi's eyes are glued on his phone as he just waves you off to both shoo and acknowledge you at the same time, leaning his weight to the door so he could both watch the highlight reel of a show he watched just last week and carry his bag.
"Later. I'm busy."
"No problem!" you stammer because you're not sure if you're ready to ask him anyway, wordlessly pushing the door open for him because he's deeply immersed on his phone. "Can I ask you over lunch? I-..."
... know a place.
Yoongi's door already closes on your face as the result of him kicking it backwards as he enters, making you take a step back to gather yourself.
You are not ready at all to ask him.
It's no secret that you have a crush on Dr. Min. Not at all. Practically everyone knows how head-over-heels you are for him; even the man himself actually.
It was embarrassing at first when it sinked into you that everyone collectively knows how you trail after him like a stray kitten whose gotten their first feed of the day, but later on, it’s something you actively and unnecessarily took pride in.
That way, you could ward off any other people in the clinic who have an eye on him! Dr. Park says that it’s the equivalent of a dog peeing on a fire hydrant within a street that nobody likes to walk in, but you just dismiss his comment as per usual. You’re sure that it’s impossible that no one likes him a little more than usual as an employee would, but perhaps they’re just not as showy as you are.
You can't pinpoint exactly why you have a crush on him because truth be told, you liked him in entirety. It was gradual, sure, but you liked him as a whole even from the start. Something about him’s so pulling that you find yourself complaining silently sometimes.
Liking him is easy. The variables aren't.
It just so happens that Dr. Min doesn't like you in that way, or in any way at all, but that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that. Everybody starts from zero at one point.
"Not to burst your bubble, buttercup, but you do know that Yoongi used to have a wife, right?"
Jimin, the cosmetic surgeon of Serendipity Aesthetics and Yoongi's business partner, asks you. He has no ill intent — he actually finds it adorable to see you pining after his best friend who's done nothing but turn you down.
It’s harsh, entertaining, but not laughable. Even the secondhand embarrassment and heartbreak makes Jimin look away whenever you ask Yoongi about his weekend. It’s a game of cat and mouse, but the only difference is that the mouse is unfazed and untouchable, and the cat's scared yet determined.
Coincidentally, Jimin's your childhood friend. Both his and your parents would assign him to watch over you even if he's just some years ahead of you. It even strengthened the bond of you treating him as an older brother and him fulfilling the role well, just as annoyingly.
Your communication hasn't been consistent especially when he entered medical school, which is why you've rarely ever heard about Yoongi before you even worked here. None of it matters though because it feels that you’ve been with Jimin for a lifetime in a literal sense, feeling a stroke of fate because somehow, he’s the common string that bridged you and Dr. Min unknowingly.
You like him a healthy amount. In a very respectful, healthy, almost pitiful amount.
"Yeah. I knew that," you sigh dejectedly, stirring your iced coffee that’s already gotten too watered-down for your taste. “She’s the model, right?"
How could you not?
How could you not know who Dr. Min’s ex-wife is because even before you worked in his and Jimin’s clinic, you’ve already heard of her?
You once saw her in an LED billboard once at a prime spot in a busy street. You saw her face on a promotional liquor poster in a convenience store without knowing that she was the wife of your then-crush (who you didn’t know yet) at the time. You see her large signature on the wall at a restaurant you regularly eat at but don’t have the appetite for nowadays.
"Mhmm, Jihye."
Jimin hums in agreement, spooning a portion from your plate and into his mouth because you’re too preoccupied to swat his hand away.
"Is she your best friend?"
Jimin rolls his eyes playful at the tone of your voice who’s suddenly gotten meek. "No, that's you, buttercup.”
You atleast feel comforted that Dr. Min’s ex-wife, whom you barely know, hasn’t managed to snatch perhaps your favorite person in the whole world. She once had Yoongi and that’s something you can stomach because it’s their life you’re not a part of, but something tells you that you’d be a little more bummed to know that Jimin and her are close just like the two of you.
“We were friends at best because I'm close to Yoongi and well... y'know..." He coughs awkwardly, eyes hesitantly looking up at you before he buries his face to the noodles to the point he could feel the steam rise to his face. "I was the best man at their wedding."
Jimin notices the way your mouth is just fixed on your dumpling, unmoving. It's only rare that you ask him about Dr. Min because there's always the guilt that you're just using your friendship with Jimin as leverage to know more about his colleague, but in the few times that you do ask about him, it always has something to do with major facts you can't immediately grasp your head around.
"Don't worry! They were in a relationship for three years, and only married for one. They knew each other even before Yoongi became a resident."
"That does not help me, Jimin. At all."
He only sheepishly scratches the back of his head, going back to his words which he now realizes did nothing to make you feel better.
"Relax. If you say something superlatively dumb enough for your skincare myths, he'll probably take the hint and date you out of pity."
You unclench your mouth on the dumpling, finding no will to chew it now that Jimin, once again, opened his mouth. "Made it even worse, actually."
He's no stranger to you feeling bummed but he knows that he's somehow in a bind because he's in a point of conflict between you and Yoongi, both his best friends. He can't exactly give you false hope in order to cheer you up, but he can't lie either and say that you don't have a solid fighting chance with Yoongi.
You're frowning but he knows you understand, well-aware that you'd recuperate soon enough.
"Cheer up. Just ask him out and if he denies you, then be it! I had a hand in designing this clinic, remember? It's big enough for you to avoid him."
"Not sure if I should feel inspired or discouraged," you tut under your breath, pressing your forehead down the table so you could ignore him while he leaves you alone. "Thanks, Dr. Park."
Jimin rolls his eyes at the nickname you use to spite him and only call him when the other employees are around, in which case there aren't, just because he did the equivalent of making you gulp orange juice after brushing your teeth like his sudden "I was the best man at Yoongi's wedding" revelation.
You don't know how long your forehead's been pressed to the table but it feels long enough to the point you hear a familiar set of footsteps you didn't anticipate to come this soon, immediately straightening your posture.
"Dr. Min! You're here!"
Yoongi looks up from his phone and nods, completely unsurprised that you're here in the breakroom at the exact moment that he comes in.
"Dr. Park bought everyone lunch today, yours is in this bag," you gesture to the meal you've separated and took the initiative of writing his name on so no one would "accidentally" claim it for themselves because it's always the one with the extra sauce and napkins.
He only hums as he plops down to the seat parallel to the paper bag, not registering it at all that you did it on purpose so he'd be sitting beside you. You didn't actually think he'd fall for it, but it's one of the times you feel indebted to his eager attention to his phone because he doesn't notice.
Yoongi sets his phone down on the table as it's held up by his convenient popsocket, immersed in slurping his own noodles to be oblivious of you who's close to losing your shit right beside him.
The opportunity is sitting right next to you and you didn't expect it to come this soon because if you knew that Dr. Min would be setting off your tentative plans unknowingly with how everything's coming to place, you probably would've rehearsed endlessly in front of a mirror.
"Can I ask my question now?"
Dr. Min's in the middle of chewing when you ask but he doesn't flinch, already aware that you ask him so much questions within a day that he feels like he's working with a nosey toddler.
"Go. You're gonna ask it anyway," he replies monotonously and continues chewing, bringing more noodles to his mouth even if his cheeks haven't deflated yet.
His nonchalance is what simultaneously intimidates and eggs you on, finding the words leaving your mouth with no filter at all.
"Can I ask you to go out with me? I'll only ask you five times and after that, I'm gonna get off your tail."
There's no beat of silence because Yoongi keeps chewing and you're sure you heard a chuckle in-between, looking at his side profile while holding your breath. You're just about to apologize for crossing a line you've been toeing for the better portion of a year when he looks at you once, briefly and lazily.
"Okay."
The word doesn't immediately click in your mind as you stumble with spelling out the letters in your head. Are you hearing it right? Is this just a side-effect of Jimin randomly clapping his hands beside your ears when you're getting groggy?
"O-okay? As in, yes?"
"Okay as in yes, you can ask me to go out with you," Dr. Min clarifies calmly, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips when he sees the favorite part of his show appear on-screen. "Asking me to go out with you is different from going out with you."
You're shell-shocked because that's exactly what you asked of him and you're even more surprised that he interpreted it as such, the weight of his approval now dawning on you.
"Of course."
Yoongi only hums but he can't bring himself to get another bite because you don't let a second go to waste, seeing your face plead closer to his peripheral vision that he only manages to give you a side-eye.
“Can we go out later, Dr. Min? I actually checked your schedule and you have nothing booked past 4 PM!”
You try to tone down your excitement and you're glad that the expectation of him answering you in the first try is only an afterthought, because he shoots you down twice as quick as you asked.
“No.”
“Do you have plans tonight then?” you prod with a gentle smile, trying to see if you can sway him even in the slightest.
“Nope.”
“Then why don't you wanna go out with me?” there's a light-hearted frown on your face and as much as you know that it won't elicit a reaction from Dr. Min, it's only playful. There's no real accusation nor anger behind your tone.
“Because I don’t, Y/N," Yoongi actually chuckles and he looks at you as if you're the silliest goose he's ever come across a pond. "You’re on closing duty later, bye!”
( ♡ )
“Good morning to my favorite dermatologist in this whole wide world!”
Yoongi hears you greet him cheerily and it almost makes him flinch because you materialized out of nowhere. He's about to scold you for doing that because who knows if you get mistaken and accidentally give a faint-hearted client with the shock of their lifetime, he really was about to — but he sees his cinnamon bun on your hand (courtesy of Jimin telling you his favorite dessert for the price of one cheek kiss), and all the words melt from his mouth.
“Good morning.”
Dr. Min almost snatches what you're holding and you almost huff, trailing beside him as his fingers quickly undo the familiar teal box packaging of his favorite pastry.
“You forgot 'Y/N, my favorite nurse in this whole wide world'.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t forget anything," he adds for good measure but something doesn't quite fit because as much as his hand is holding a box that houses his favorite type of sweet, his other hand doesn't feel warm. There's no cylindrical cup on his hand that makes his palm just the right amount of toasty and he realizes it the hard way because he raises his hand, ready to take a sip of a whole lot of nothing.
"Where's my-"
“Here’s your coffee.”
"Thanks," Yoongi feels the familiar warmth in his hand in a second and he sighs in relief inwardly, but there's just something off. Feels that there's something actively off because it's definitely more warm than what he'd feel in his regular cup. "Huh? Why is it in a mug?"
He wonders out loud and the sight of the ceramic mug is enough culture shock from the usual lidded paper cup he sees almost every morning, looking at you as if you've told him the worst insult known to man.
You didn't exactly think that Dr. Min would react as differently as this because Jimin said that coffee is still coffee to him, but in the process, you've directly forgotten that your friend told you right after Yoongi's coffee preferences — is that he tends to be a creature of habit.
“From the shop. I-I also bought the mug from the coffee shop so I can present it as this.”
You thought Dr. Min would be pleasantly surprised as he holds the too-expensive ceramic excuse for a coffee mug, but you don't know what to anticipate as he casts his eyes down.
GO OUT WITH ME? :), written in cocoa powder amongst the white froth, a product of going to the coffee shop extra early and having to fend off the red-haired barista with the bunny smile because he thought you were asking him out.
"Mhmm," Yoongi spends a second longer looking at the foam art before he takes a big gulp and effectively washes away what you significantly paid higher for than his usual coffee, trapping your wince at the back of your throat. You're looking at his Adam's apple and he looks just one gulp away from finishing it all, and he does right in front of you. "Can't. I'm taking my mom to go shopping."
You awe unconsciously as it's a known fact within the clinic that Yoongi adores his mom a lot and you see her quite often, having extra snacks being delivered personally to the employees each time because she's a nice and sincere woman.
“I can carry the bags?" you're only half-joking, a cheesy grin on your face, but Dr. Min only shakes his head at you and disappears into his office.
That's your second chance gone as quick as the latte disappeared into Yoongi's throat, but atleast you know that he doesn't hate the beverage and he can reuse the mug.
There's still some merit in your attempt somewhere.
There's never an empty instance in the clinic. It's always full. It's a little more high-end than most clinics and you could see it in the design and layout of the clinic itself, but it doesn't mean it's fully-exclusive. You see celebrities and socialites every other day and with the hands-on nature of your work, you're not as starstruck and bothered as you used to be.
There would always be more than a handful of VIP clients but that doesn't mean they're the only clientele. Serendipity Aesthetics isn't that snooty, and it's something you can manage with.
Your work's just as tiring as the doctors' and not a lot of people credit you for it, but it's something you shove to the back of your mind at the end of the day. You only scrunch your nose under your mask when you see the 73rd trustfund baby come into the clinic for the day, unfocus your eyes so you couldn't roll them when they manage to bring in their wealth that wasn't questioned into the conversation, and move on to your next patient.
You've just finished giving a diamond peel to a breadwinner mother (whom you've had a nice chat and laugh with throughout the process) when your eyes immediately lock in to the figure that knows no queues nor other clients as she walks past, walking straight to Dr. Min's procedure room.
And of course, you don't know whether fate is on your side or not, but you're the only assistant available to assist so naturally, Hoseok, the secretary, looks at you with a knowing nod.
You don't know what to expect when you come inside the procedure room, making yourself as small as possible when you knock twice briefly and enter, standing in the corner with your eyes trained on your clipboard.
Yoongi nods at you once in acknowledgement as his attending assistant, and you can barely acknowledge him back because the Jihye, who was Mrs. Min at one point, is in your direct line of sight.
She's sitting down but you can still see her graceful posture then with her shoulders pulled back and her hair framing her face perfectly. The casual sweater ensemble she wears is probably more expensive than your whole closet could be, but the gray of it doesn't dull her out at all. There's creases on the material since she's sitting down and is therefore not taut, but the wrinkles look poised on her figure nonetheless.
Her manicured hands sit prim and proper on Dr. Min's desk and you can't help but think how they used to look with a wedding band on her ring finger, your thought process making you look at his hands that are clasped right in front of him.
She smells expensive and important, just like how Dr. Min does. Not only do they have a figurative scent of gravitas surrounding them, but they also carry it literally. When they shared a home, have they started smelling like each other at one point? Does the intoxicating smell of daisies on Jihye become Yoongi's scent on his white coat at one point?
"What do you want, Jihye?"
You find yourself holding your breath in anticipation of hearing her voice in-person, and it's everything you've ever expected.
"Undereye fillers, please. I have campaigns and Fashion Week back to back so I need a touch-up."
Expensive, important, elegant, sweet.
Yoongi sighs under his breath, standing up from his seat to examine closer. You almost move to stand beside him to assist but you forget that of course, Dr. Min has his own penlight. You're paralyzed at your corner but you can't help but watch.
You watch him press Jihye's undereyes lightly with the pad of his thumb and then with his ring finger, assessing intensively but holding her lightly as if she's made of glass.
"They're not that sunken-in like usual. You still want a touch-up?"
Jihye laughs sweetly, putting a hand on her chest as she tilts her head up at Yoongi.
"Ah. You're still so sweet to me."
Yoongi doesn't indulge her with a laugh but instead just rolls his eyes, going back to his seat as he types into his chart. "Would that be all?"
"That's it for now," Jihye grins, clutching her purse to her chest as she rocks back and forth on her heels even if she's sat down. "Always down for a facial from you though."
"Jihye."
Yoongi clicks his tongue and gives his ex-wife a warning gaze, and just for the slightest fraction, you feel him turning his gaze to you. His gaze that's not for the purpose of feeling sorry you had to hear that, but rather for the purpose of telling his ex-wife that the two of them aren't alone.
"Yoongi."
She drawls sweetly and you could only look away because this banter of theirs doesn't concern you at all.
Dr. Min ignores her and looks at you, a firm line on his lips.
"Get me the materials, Y/N."
"Extra ice too! I wanna munch on some," Jihye adds as you're on your way out and you make the note of getting more ice from the freezer because she asked so, filling up a champagne glass neatly.
You wheel in your cart and you could only reply with a stiff nod when she thanks you eagerly, already plopping an ice cube to her mouth.
You wait as you see Yoongi become gentle, all from the way he injects the filler to massaging the skin underneath Jihye's eyes.
They're divorced and yet they look casual as they've always done this. They probably did and still continue to. They look like they still belong to each other.
You can't deny that Jihye's pretty and although you're not privy to details if she has work done or not, it doesn't change the fact that she's pretty. She must and is the prettiest girl in the world for Yoongi because obviously, he married her. Loved her. Maybe even currently love her even.
You feel silly. A little more silly than usual like what Yoongi points you out to be because after all, you're an assistant at work who's holding the tissues and the icepack, feeling as if you have the right to intrude or even be jealous of the fact that your boss, the one you have a pathetically huge crush on, is laughing with his ex-wife over an inside joke like what all couples have.
Like what all couples, divorced or not, have.
( ♡ )
Yoongi thinks he's actually managed to escape you.
He's in his procedure room simply because the airconditioner blows colder and not because he has a patient to meet at the moment. It's his favorite kind of quiet; no one's daring to knock on his door, no shoes squeaking, no you who keeps asking him questions at every waking moment you could find.
Come to think of it, not only did he barely see you today, but he also barely saw everyone in the clinic. It's unusual to say the least because for the hundred times that he passes by Hoseok, he now realizes that he barely occupies his position at the front desk. He's heard nothing from Jimin either whose office is just right next to his, unaccustomed to not having someone knock on his door until he budges and lets him in because the guy just wanted to hang out even in silence.
Actually, he doesn't know anyone's whereabouts at the moment. The clinic's full even at lunchbreak but it oddly feels quiet, making him put his phone down and debate to whether or not he should check up on everyone.
“Give me a facial, please.”
Yoongi practically jumps out of his seat when he hears someone pipe up from right behind him, goosebumps forming at the back of his neck as he automatically flinches.
He knows it's you but he didn't know it would be you who's sneaked up on him out of nowhere. Sometime in his whole thought process, you've already opened the door to his room without him noticing and he's badly reaping the consequence of not being perceptible enough.
"Holy fuck," he clutches at his chest from the shock upon seeing you that's slowly simmering down, throwing his head back, only to see you smiling at him gently as if you didn't age him atleast two years faster. "A facial?"
Yoongi grimaces at your crude plead, snickering to himself, but when he registers the weirded-out look on your face, he immediately remembers his profession and what you're actually asking from him.
“Yup! A facial.”
You seem to have no qualms about repeating your request and that's because you don't have any, feeling fully confident in yourself because you're certain that he can't deny such a trivial request at the time.
“Do you have a schedule with me? Have you paid to the front desk already?” Dr. Min asks you in succession and tilts his head at you, making his newly-dyed blonde hair bounce from side to side intentionally.
It's cute, really, but you didn't come here unprepared. After all, you believe that it's Dr. Min this time who owes you something.
“But it’s my birthday — you didn’t know?“
That throws him off the loop for a second and he doesn't even actually believe that it's your birthday at first, especially coming from you whom he believes is a big fan of bogus skincare myths and probably eats them for dinner.
He's about to ask you for some ID but the dots connect in his mind before he polices his employee over their own birthday; why everyone's been missing, why Jimin couldn't stay still the whole morning, why he's been seeing random balloons being held by patients in the waiting area, and why there's some bit of frosting left on the side of your jaw.
“Why would I know when your birthday is?”
“You hired me.”
You blink owlishly at what’s supposed to be an obvious answer but Yoongi reads it as being a smart-ass.
“I hired you for your credentials, not your birthday,” he rolls his eyes and you already know he’s fully recovered from the unintentional spook you’ve given him. "Actually, scratch that — Jimin told me to hire you."
You'd like to think that you'd get hired nonetheless if not for Jimin, but the thought lingers heavily on you. It leaves a bad taste on your tongue and you’re unaware that it shows on your face because for a second, Yoongi feels as if he should apologize because he may have took it too far. In full honesty, the whole concept of it only struck you now and you don’t know what to think of it, especially in a day you swore you’d only be self-indulgent.
You miss a single beat and the needier part of Yoongi’s guilt feels compelled.
“I’m-…”
“Nevermind. It’s okay! But it’s my birthday, and you told me that you give your employees a free facial as a birthday gift!”
Yoongi feels saved with your smooth transitioning but his eyes narrow once he recognizes the gist of what you’re saying, deeming it to be a little too demanding because all he wanted to do this afternoon was to lay back in between appointments.
"I can just give you a gift card,” he offers and he thinks you’re gonna accept the upgrade which is why he’s about to stand up and retrieve it from his office right this instant, being stopped abruptly when you block his way out of his chair.
“No. I want a facial.”
He hasn’t even started telling you that he has some designer gift cards in his drawer as well but you already shake your head no to what he was about to say, unrelenting when he tries to walk past you that only prompts you to hold your arms out horizontally.
“Fine. It’ll just be a quick one after the last patient and-...”
“Actually, your patient for this hour just cancelled because she has to appear in court for evading taxes or something.”
He blinks once, clearly unnerved. “Oh. Naeun? Again?”
Dr. Min hums to himself about taxes and turns his back on you silently, making you stammer in place because you don’t know if you’d accept rejection at your birthday this early into your attempt. You want to ask one more time if he’s still giving you a facial or not because you’re just standing there as still as an idle video game character, waiting for a prompt that would directly address you.
“What are you doing?” he asks you and you look straight to the mirror that’s in front of him, wide-eyed at being guilty for simply just standing in his presence. “Lie down already. I thought you wanted your birthday present?”
You realize belatedly that Dr. Min’s standing by his employee benefit because while he had his back turned on you because it turns out he was just preparing the tools and equipment he needed for your facial, not because he was annoyed at you and wanted you to take a hint by making you look at his back.
You've never been in this position, actually — the one where you're lying on the patient's bed and Dr. Min's looking down on you, the mix of a scowl and a small smile on his face just to appease you.
He's gentle. Much more gentle that you thought now that you're on the receiving end of his hands. Puts the least amount of pressure in holding up your head to put on a headband before setting you back down, his hands close enough to your face that you could smell the familiar scent of the clinic's hand soap.
You surprisingly melt when Dr. Min dots the cold cleanser to your face and rubs gently in small circles, expecting to flinch because of the overwhelmingly new experience, but there's just something in the way he caresses your face that puts you into ease.
“Jimin and the others prepared me a cake in the breakroom awhile ago.”
Your eyes are closed and you're relaxed and you don't entirely know if it's still a good look on you because Dr. Min's still rubbing in the cleanser, not entirely lying when he says that he's considering on rubbing in the lather to your mouth because he expected you not to talk this much considering he's already in the midst of giving you a facial.
“I pay all of you and you didn’t offer me any,” he mumbles in faux dejection, but the thought of having cake with the chocolate icing he's swiped from your jaw does sound appetizing.
“You were out on lunchbreak.”
You were out on lunchbreak with your ex-wife.
You withhold the last bit that you came to know because of Jimin, since he was on the way to Yoongi's office to invite him for your impromptu birthday lunch but couldn't even finish his invitation because Yoongi already uttered urgent lunch and Jihyo in the same sentence.
“Do you know what my wish was?” you speak meekly but Dr. Min doesn't notice the dimming hope behind it, one that's about to wear off sooner or later.
“Humor me,” he murmurs and that's when you hear the familiar beep of the steamer in your side, knowing that it would grant him 20 minutes of separation from you which he probably craves.
You've memorized it by now — steaming your face doesn't actually open your pores, and neither does washing your face with cold water close them. Steaming just loosens the pores which therefore allows products to seep in deeper and further.
Apart from that, there's one thing you've also come to memorize.
“That you’ll go on a date with me.”
Dr. Min chuckles and atleast you know that it'll soften the blow you expect by now.
“Nope. I’m watching a movie in the cinema with my friends tonight.”
You open your eyes and he closes them right back because it'll hurt to open with the hot steam, unconsciously doing it with a tut on his lips.
“It’s my birthday," you weakly offer with a pout on your mouth and you're oblivious to the half-smile Dr. Min has on his face because of course, your eyes are closed and have been threatened once again to be fired if you don't keep them closed.
“It’s my movie time.”
( ♡ )
Nothing’s going right.
You watched a movie last night with Jimin and it ended up having a cameo of Jihye, making the remaining thirty minutes in the cinema become a darkroom for all of your doubts and insecurities, while Jimin chews your remaining popcorn as silently as he could (because it would be a waste) while rubbing circles on your forearm.
You drank with him all night but he's counting his shots because he obviously has some clients to attend to the next day. It's not exactly a good look of being hung-over with his eye twitching as he completes a rhinoplasty at 1 in the afternoon.
Your car wouldn't be fixed for another week and when you hitched a ride with Jimin and passed by the shop, it's because your car's in the corner and everyone's working on a flashy blue Maserati, in which he made the off-hand comment that it looks like Jihye's but he isn't entirely sure.
Everything from last night until today makes you feel like you don't have control over anything at all. It's deflating and pitying and it adds to the ever-growing con list of what it's like to have a crush on your divorced boss.
So while Dr. Min's standing in his gown since he's assisting Jimin, and in turn you're assisting them and the two of you are alone because Jimin's still washing his hands outside, you ask.
“Go out with me?”
“Can’t.”
“Okay.”
Yoongi's eyes widen at your straightforward reply, cutting to the chase. There's no pleas, no rebuttals and most of all, there's no underlying curiosity. No sneak-handed question that inquires what exactly were his plans.
It's just a plain okay that he can't wrap his head around, making him look at you whose gaze is set on the patient's gown.
“It’s Jihye’s grandmother’s birthday today. She’s old-old — you get the point. Still thinks we’re together and we don’t wanna break her heart.”
He feels compelled to explain even if you haven't asked him remotely, preparing himself for any added questions you might have.
“M’kay. Have fun tonight.”
The question marks visibly float on top of his head and he doesn't know what he's missing, the opening of the door to the surgery suite signifying Jimin's entrance furthermore making his head cloudy.
“Yup. Gonna have a blast with my ex’s family," he says it either as a snide remark or a half-attempt in getting a reaction from you; either way, it dissipates into the air and he gets nothing.
You accept that nothing's going your way and it rarely does otherwise.
Yoongi keeps looking at you like he's never met you before.
( ♡ )
Yoongi enters the clinic, throws his bag into the air, and his eyes practically pop out of his head when he sees that it's Hoseok who's holding it.
Where are you?
It's emptying, almost. He's not hearing a skincare myth first thing in the morning and he doesn't have a warm cup of coffee on his hand, be it in a regular cup or a mug.
In fact, he's walking alone to his office and he feels the need to keep darting his head around because you must be hiding in one of the many vantage points you could spring out of.
There's a shadow set on the large couch, and he feigns his surprise that it's you who's gonna jump beside him any moment now, but it turns out to be the fake plant in the corner.
It's the big green fake plant they bought for accessories in the event that a patient of theirs would be allergic to a real one, and Yoongi's never felt this much annoyance towards an overpriced leafy hunk of plastic.
Jimin hasn't arrived yet but he assumes that it's because you're with him. You've got to be.
Jimin arrives sooner than anticipated as if to calm the curiosity in Yoongi's mind but immediately furrows his brows at him because he actually looks disappointed that he's here.
Yoongi peers at the empty spot beside his friend, even trying to peer his head further for the familiar package deal named you that he carried in mornings.
"Is Y/N with you?"
"No...?" Jimin tilts his head, genuinely confused that he's asking him about you, but is even more confused to learn that you're not here. "Is she with you?"
"No," Yoongi shakes his head no somberly, awkwardly standing as he tries to look behind him to see if you've already creeped your way there. "Weird."
He exits himself from the situation even before Jimin can question him and they both think it's the logical thing to do, especially since it's concerning you and they've been dancing around the topic of you for some time now — from the perspective of the one being crushed on and a potential love interest, the other being your best friend.
You come in some time later, still early before opening but Yoongi's not used to it at all. This is perhaps the first time he's seen you arrive later than he does, but he's conflicted if he ever wants that to happen again.
He's looking at his schedule for the day yet he can't help but peek at his window, anticipating a you who's trying to steal a glance but there's no attempts made, just walking straight past his office and into Jimin's next door.
Weird.
His whole day started off weird and his first interaction is basically omitted from his book because it doesn't start with his usual habit of fact-checking your myth, leaving a bitter taste on his mouth.
He has his own stash of his favorite snacks in his office but he plans to drop by the breakroom nonetheless after flying through all of his appointments before noon, instead accidentally (but thankfully) walking out to the whiff of your perfume because you just walked in front of him, entertaining a client that must be a walk-in.
"Taehyung?"
You walk to the familiar face you probably last saw just a few weeks ago, seeing his face register you belatedly in warmth and relief.
"Y/N, there you are! I was about to start knocking on every door to look for you," he sighs and you know he sincerely means it, thankful you've showed up just in time because he probably would've caused a ruckus by doing that.
"What do you need? I fell asleep early last night so I didn't get to answer your call."
Yoongi thinks that if he stands still enough, he could be mistaken for a fake plant with a white coat. He tries his best to fix his eyes and not be caught eavesdropping and looking, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's the best at it.
This guy calls you? At night too?
"Just my lobes. I need you to stitch them up back to normal. Tried the rubbing oil method for like a month but it barely did anything."
"Ah," you hum in recognition, gently taking Taehyung's earlobe into your fingers that makes him tilt his head to you in obedience so you could examine it closely. "You only had small gauges. 10G, right? 2.5mm is something I can work on alone."
Yoongi manages to conclude that you're somehow familiar and acquainted with this Taehyung guy, easily taking him under your wing and into an empty procedure room as if the two of you do this everyday.
It's a minor procedure. Local anesthesia and some stitches and Taehyung could walk out in less than an hour. Normally, if the gauges are bigger and therefore the earlobe's more stretched out, Jimin's called in to operate but 10G is something you can do without supervision, meaning that you and said guy would be alone together in the procedure room.
“Need help?”
As a doctor, Yoongi's just offering his supervision and guidance — that's all.
Taehyung's already well-acquainted in his position and so are you, the past fifteen minutes he's spent talking and hyping himself up to stroll in as casually as he could already meant giving you much leeway in between.
“No need doc," surprisingly, it's Taehyung who answers, a warm smile on his face which makes his shoulders vibrate in the slightest to which you tut at him. "Y/N’s used to this already.”
Yoongi's surprised but he doesn't let it show, clicking in his mind that the guy seems like a familiar face he's seen before but he can't place it exactly.
“Oh. Are you a regular in my clinic?”
“Hmm? Oh, no! I’m a first-timer here. I just meant that Y/N’s-“ he gets cut off and it's because you bump your knee into his to stop talking and moving, your voice finishing up his small explanation. "Used to stitching him up."
Tae's kind of scared to talk even more because after all, you're the one who's holding the needle to his ear, not wanting to unintentionally test you further so he just whispers to Yoongi instead.
“Exactly what she said.”
Yoongi feels like he's barging into a couple's business whom he's not a part of. He's seeing you in action as you reconstruct Taehyung's earlobes and that's where the familiarity hits him, quietly awing to himself.
Isn't this Taehyung guy famous?
You didn't take his offer up for help but he still shadows you, maneuvering himself behind you instead of standing by the door alone, not even pretending to give you pointers to fill up the uncomfortable silence (for him) because you both know you're doing a great job.
“Hey, remember when I thought that guy was flirting with you in the bakery?”
Taehyung suddenly pipes up and you have to hold still with the needle in your hand, shoulders shaking in a slight laugh.
“Of course. You ended up punching my brother.”
The two of you fondly laugh and it feels extra humorous because the two of you are trying not to move your bodies to the best of your abilities, seeing his cheeks turn red from trying to stifle his laughs as much as he could.
“He didn’t know whether he’d feel mad or proud of me that time.”
Yoongi turns up the light brighter that focuses on his earlobes that makes Taehyung squint. Normally, that's his non-verbal way of saying that the two of you should not be a having a moment right now, especially with him in the room.
He quips his lips to the side but stays quiet, his once-stable breaths dragging out extra slow.
“You free tonight? Minhyung’s staying with me for a week," he complies when you ask him to turn his head slightly, getting a response to his offer just as quick.
“Yeah, sure! Missed him anyway. He’s how old now?”
“Seven. He pokes fun at me now.”
The reminder of meeting Minhyung when he was barely a toddler versus the comparison of bullying his older brother now makes you laugh, remembering all the fond interactions you've had and continue to have with him. Just last month, Tae called you in the middle of the afternoon because Minhyung was suddenly looking for you.
You wrap up quickly and you wouldn't realize if not for Dr. Min who's been standing behind you almost the entire time, a barely-audible bite to his words. "He's finished."
Dr. Min beats you into relaying the aftercare instructions and follow-up check-up, the lax nature of how he usually explains being a stark contrast to how he sounds quick right now.
Taehyung's oblivious to the difference you could notice but he listens nonetheless, bidding you with a sweet warm smile as he exits the room.
“Thanks Y/N, see you later!”
Dr. Min shuts the door behind him and proceeds to clean up the station you've worked on, getting you into work because you don't quite understand why he even came in here in the first place.
“You didn’t tell me you had Kim Taehyung the model for a boyfriend.”
He passive-aggressively murmurs but you catch it, thinking nothing of the unusual nature your superior is exhibiting.
“You know him? He’s that famous now, huh?”
Yoongi, however, freezes. It's far from your easy chuckle and way further from the territory of peace because his face morphs into confusion. “What? I was kidding with you. He is your boyfriend?”
"What?" your eyes glaze at the odd joke you wouldn't have bothered correcting in the first place because you didn't think he'd ask, much less assume, in the first place anyway. “Oh no, he’s my ex-boyfriend.”
Yoongi genuinely doesn't know what to feel about that.
Is he frustrated over the fact that Taehyung isn't your boyfriend at the moment, or is it over the fact that you're exes and therefore share history together in a way he can't decipher?
He doesn't meet your gaze, the pettiness running through his bones before he could register it as such.
“I don’t believe that. Pretty sure no one would go to their ex’s place especially at night.”
The words he's just uttered basically tells you that he's eavesdropped well and even added his own analysis to it, feeling offended because as what you can recall, you didn't even ask him for his own take.
“I’m hanging out with him and his little brother.”
“Still. No one does that.”
You play off the offense you feel into nonchalance, gritting your teeth as you disinfect the area for the next patient.
“You can be friends with an ex, it’s possible, Dr. Min,” you wipe extra hard at the bed, not even knowing why you feel defensive for a situation that doesn't even involve him. “We didn’t break up in bad terms anyways so it was more than plausible that we would be friends.”
He looks up inhumanely fast, eyes trained on you as if you've grown two heads within a second.
“That’s impossible.”
You humorlessly chuckle and that's the end of it, choosing to tune him out while you clean up as quick as you could because you don't even know if you could stay in a space with him any longer.
Yoongi finds it odd that you're not searching for his gaze, stopping right in front of you when you retrieve the remaining sanitary equipment.
“Have you even checked the schedule? You agreed to him so quick. Who knows, we’d probably do overtime.”
“Then I’m reminding you that I’ve never been absent ever since I started working here, and if we need to do overtime, I’m using my leave.
Dr. Min hardens his glare at you. “That’s against the law, I’m pretty sure.”
“I can ask Tae later, his mom’s a lawyer.”
You add harmlessly as it's the truth and it does make you curious if it's just his unknown pettiness or the law that's talking, seeing his eyes roll at your quip.
“Heh," he narrows his eyes and turns his back on you, quick hands moving into a blur while he goes on his way out. “The gauze’s contaminated now. Get a new one.”
Yoongi can't explain it but he feels like something's changed in his routine and in some way, it has something to do with you.
His entrance every morning feels weird and his arm wants to give out every time he throws his bag into the air because it's not your familiar face that squeezes in so close beside him even if there's plenty of space for you to walk on.
He finds himself looking through windows and wandering through hallways just to look for a trace of you, even if it's the little chocolate nibs you snack throughout the whole day or if it's your extra handkerchief that Jimin uses because he forgets his all the time.
You’re supposed to ask him anytime now, aren't you?
You've used four of your chances in four different occasions with no exact pattern to it, but Yoongi knows. He knows and feels that it's been too long ever since the last time you asked him out (that was two weeks ago) in the procedure room and he doesn't know when the next would be.
He's sure it's a tactic of yours. It must be. You must've been doing it in a certain method that trains him to miss you and look for you unconsciously, even if he's at home and not in the clinic.
Yoongi finds himself lingering around you and he doesn't know if he could just continue hovering and hovering in this way; in a way that's unlike yours because you're unafraid to stand so close to him, talk to him whenever you please, and trail around him like a lost puppy.
He thinks he's had enough when he sees you enter the clinic, just thirty minutes away from opening and goes straight to Jimin's office, walking out later in your scrubs that makes him audibly gasp in surprise.
You enter the breakroom and he finds himself tailing after you unceremoniously, not being able to wait atleast five minutes to enter.
You're just now eating your breakfast because you've had a late start to your morning, also waiting a little later for you to retrieve your car from the shop that took longer than what you initially expected.
You're mid-bite into your cereal when you see a shadow cast onto the table, looking up to see Dr. Min who avoids your gaze as soon as you catch him.
“Yes.”
You chew slowly and cover your mouth when he turns to you, arms across his chest while you try to swallow. “I’m not following...?”
He sighs heavily, not knowing he had to spell it out for you.
Yoongi sits beside you and scoots his chair closer to yours, leaning his face onto his hand that makes you confused even more on how he's willingly sitting this close beside you.
“Yes, I’m going on a date with you.”
You swallow your cereal without a fuss as it registers in your head collectively, a curious and inquisitive quirk to your lips that throws him off.
“I didn’t ask, though.”
“No, this is the part where you use your fifth chance to ask me out and I accept.”
It's quite entertaining to see Dr. Min act and talk so impulsively, not used to seeing him this frustratedly determined. “But I haven’t asked.”
Yoongi closes his eyes once, his shoulders relaxing.
“Then I’m saying yes for the four previous times you asked me.”
You snort to your cereal and you're thankful that it happens before you scoop another spoonful to your mouth, shaking your head somberly.
“That doesn’t count.”
Yoongi pouts childishly, his brows furrowing at the concept of you denying him this time and not getting what he wants.
“Yes it does.”
“I can’t take you out, Dr. Min. I’m actually a little short on some date money because I’ve been buying you expensive coffee every single morning.”
"Just Yoongi," he corrects but doesn't choose to comment on the fact that you haven't been buying him coffee for two weeks now and he's unknowingly formed a dependency on the coffee and you. “Then I’ll pay for the date.”
“Then that means you’re taking me out on a date.”
“I know, which is why I’m saying yes, I’m accepting-“
You stop the flow of words that makes Dr. Min frown even deeper, looking severely dejected but the guilt doesn't hit you as much. “You can’t. That wasn’t our deal.”
“Then ask me to go out with you.”
It's a suggestion he brings up softly, uncertainty lacing his features because actually, it doesn't sound like a suggestion at all — sounds more of a plead than anything.
“Hmmm,” you pretend to think even if you already had a concrete plan for the day. “I’m busy. Dr. Park needs me.”
Dr. Min clears his throat, sitting up straighter and looks at you.
“Please ask me to go on a date with you.”
“Dr. Park needs me.”
Yoongi exhales through his nose and stands up, straightening his shirt and rearranging the bucket hat on his head before he relents, leaving you alone.
You think that's just about the end of it, but you're wrong because you see Dr. Min pop into the breakroom the moment lunchbreak starts, picking up Jimin who's sitting beside you and ushering him out of the door.
"The fuck? Yoongi! Stop — stop pushing me! You seriously can't just throw me out of the-"
Your eyes are still fixed on the door that Dr. Min just pushed Jimin out of and locked him out entirely, barely glancing to the paper bag that he put in front of you.
He occupies the chair beside you and clears his throat once again, clasping his hands tightly.
“Five takes.”
"Huh? Dr. Min, did you seriously just-..."
Yoongi pokes your cheek to get you to look at him, effectively taking your gaze out of the door.
“Give me five chances to ask you out.”
You thought he wouldn't push it to this because you swore you know him — know him well-enough that he doesn't like you and wouldn't care enough to pursue you once you've stopped.
“Why?”
He blinks owlishly because you're still asking him why when he thought he couldn't make his intentions any more clear, the two weeks without the usual you making him realize it further.
“I could say that I’m asking you this so you could give me a taste of my own medicine,” his attempt at what's supposed to be a joke makes you scoff, later chuckling when he waves his hands around desperately to clarify. “But as much as my pride would like that,” he murmurs. “I uh, I do want to go out with you.”
Hearing it from him is surreal, to say the least. It's something you've never thought to hear and it's admittedly something you've given up on trying to hear not too long ago.
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m going grocery shopping later,” you tell him and it makes his eyebrows knit in confusion, lips opening apart as he understands.
Yoongi grabs the prescription pad that fits snugly to his white coat, handing it to you as he explains it could be something for you to write your grocery list on.
“Thank you Dr. Min,” you chuckle at the wholesome gesture, a lot of pages left when you could've settled for a single leaflet.
“Great! I’ll be seeing you-“ he stands up and claps his hands, effectively being stopped when you reach out for him.
Then he understands.
“No.”
“I have a rewards card that’s been accumulating points for years now! You can use it," he offers gingerly, a grin on his face.
“Thoughtful, but no.”
“I can drive the cart really smoothly and I can promise you that I won’t even bump to your foot once," he nods for a convicting effect, thinking if he'd pass this time.
“Talented, but no.”
“I can lift all the grocery bags in one trip.”
“Nice try, but no.”
“No?” Yoongi parrots you with a tilt on his head, a slight pout on his face that makes him look warmer.
“No."
Yoongi accepts it and nod his head, pulling himself out of his chair before he convictedly talks again.
“M’kay. That was take one,” he says it out loud to console himself, earning a surprised gaze from you. “Four more chances left, right?”
Yoongi wordlessly stands and grabs a plate from the cupboard, taking out the lunch he's bought for you from the paper bag and sets your favorite food (courtesy of Jimin for a price of one hug) there instead, setting and plating it in front of you.
He taps two fingers on your cheeks, a cozy smile on his face as he tries to earn himself a loving smile from you before he exits the breakroom.
“Four more chances.”
fail-safe
pairing: yoongi x reader
wordcount: 8k
glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.
alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.
[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]
[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]
notes: finally got to writing a new series!!! i'm beyond excited for this + this whole new concept and flow i haven't touched on before <3 i hope u love fail-safe as much as i do :-)
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist
Yoongi buys atleast one scratch ticket a week.
The accessibility of buying one is top-notch considering that all he has to do is cross the street, shoot one look to the cashier, and he can either already go hunch in the corner of the road or in the comfort of his room. The moment his coin takes its first dig and he realizes that he’s won yet again, he’s satisfied enough not to buy another ticket.
He doesn’t want to risk losing the win he’s just gained, the odds of him throwing out money besting his chances in adding to his earnings. He thinks everyone’s a little greedy one way or another, but it’s the righteous part of him that thinks he’s different.
You do think that he is for all the right reasons, your vision only tunneling for him alone. He’s this fixed older figure in your life and you can’t figure out how to shrug him off — he’s this generous leech that sucks all of the rationality from your mind but returns it to you twofold, whether in the form of him saying something unintentionally endearing that it makes your chest hurt, or through him having to lightly smack the back of your head.
Yoongi’s your older brother’s best friend and there’s a novelty tag that comes with him, one that can’t be topped by any material possession to your name. He’s there for you, not in the exact way you want him to be, but nonetheless there. He’s special and unattainable at the same time, the finiteness of his love barely extending to you.
He’s there when you want him to burn the latest songs onto a CD you’ve spent all your allowance in, and he’s there when you get annoyed that he sneaked some of his own recommendations in there. You’re there when you later admit that his suggestions aren’t half-bad, and you also happen to be there when he grins at the praise.
He’s there when Namjoon won’t cough up the last slice of his cutlet, not because he’ll actually give you his, but because he’ll help your brother guard his plate. You’d only have to mope for a solid of three seconds before the two of them give up both of their last slices, and you’re there when Yoongi insists for you to try the sauce in the spirit of going out of your routine.
You don’t need Yoongi every single time but in the event that you do, he hangs back. He contemplates and hesitates and doesn’t give in to every single whim that you have, but he’ll be there. He lingers like the last holiday ornament you don’t want to remove until it’s February, his presence being oddly similar to your favorite festivities.
Yoongi’s the equivalent of a holiday you look forward to with each passing month and day; he comes around to and for you in instances, but never even in your most sincere wishes.
“I buy one scratch ticket a week — three if I’m really feeling lucky. When my palms itch, that’s when I know that I really need to buy them.”
He’s calm and collected even when you’re scrunching your nose up at him in combined worry and disbelief, humming mindlessly as you collect your thoughts. He randomly told you about his lottery routine and you’re still trying to wrap your head around how he blows his money off just easily. Yoongi has the mind to put scrap cardboard under you because sitting on the hot concrete with your uniform on can’t possible be a good idea, but you try to play off your fluster into stubbornness.
He’s just playing with his two ever-present coins (lucky charms as he calls them)— one that’s shiny and minted in the present year, the other being the oldest coin he’s ever had that happens to be older than he is — while you mutter about.
“I don’t know, Yoongs. That might be a gambling problem,” you squint, your side comment being heard clearly as day. “Might be the symptoms for hand, foot, and mouth disease too.”
“What— I do not have a gambling problem! My skin’s perfectly fine too, thanks,” he defends, the light shove he gives you doing nothing to tone down your teasing.
“That’s what people with gambling problems say.”
“Give me that-…” he mutters, trying to wrestle you for the sundae he bought you using the money he won from his scratch ticket just awhile ago. You don’t give in easily, even if your laughs that come straight from your chest suggest otherwise. “You don’t get it. It’s just this nice, fun little thing I can look forward to every week. I always buy the cheapest version anyway so when I lose, it’s not a big deal.”
You relent (like you always do when it comes to Yoongi) in understanding, waving him off after regaining your breath. “Nah. I get it. We all have to do things so we wouldn’t lose our shit,” you trail, racking your head to find the right words.“Yours is buying scratch tickets, and mine is-…”
“Yours is what?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, lips quirked in eagerness to know where you’re going with this. He can’t pinpoint a single thing he can attach to you and neither can you, your actual interests merely reflecting those of the people whom you love.
You love cross-stitching because your mom loves doing it, the tolerance you have for accidentally being pricked by the needle growing over time.
You enjoy playing badminton because Namjoon’s obsessed with the sport, no matter how ratty your rackets and shuttlecocks have become, and no matter how much he pushes you to ring the doorbell to your neighbor’s when he’s sent it flying to their backyard.
You’re probably an imposter yet you don’t feel like it. You don’t feel bad that your life most probably and will only revolve around your mom and Namjoon (maybe even Yoongi); you don’t feel dissatisfied that your life’s mundane.
You go where your love goes.
“Mine is watching you buy scratch tickets,” you shrug easily as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, making him laugh heartily. You’ve probably done something right because he hauls you up to your feet immediately.
“Get up. I’m buying you your first ticket,” he nudges you, grabbing you by the arm in excitement.
“But I’m not even legal!” you half-heartedly argue, internally excited that you’re finally getting to try your hand at the lottery because you’ve spent a few hundred minutes of your life tuned to the channel to pass the time, awaiting the results for something you haven’t even betted for.
“Right. Like I haven’t seen you trying to squeeze out a drop of beer from our empty cans whenever Namjoon and I drink.”
“Rude,” you roll your eyes playfully, gathering your things from the ground.
“It’s okay. I’ll give you your first sip of beer too if you want,” Yoongi offers sincerely; easily as if you’ve just asked him about the weather.
He’s here to buy you your first scratch ticket, and he’s still here to offer giving you your first sip of liquor in the future.
Your family friend for a cashier vehemently ignores the fact that you’re still underage to participate in the lottery, and instead only chuckles to herself in amusement. She’s an aunt that knows when to step in and not to, and she knows you won’t be harmed by a mere bet. In fact, she knows you won’t be harmed by anything with Yoongi in tow.
“I already used up all my change,” your frown in realization, holding the ticket in your hands in despair despite having scoured your wallet repeatedly.
“Rub it against the pavement. That’s what I do,” Yoongi lies fluidly, a scoff being caught in his throat when you actually attempt to do it. “I was only kidding, Y/N. Jeez,” he groans, pulling out his wallet. “Ugh. Here. You can have one of my lucky coins.”
It’s the old one, tarnished beyond relief that you can barely recognize what it’s actual value is supposed to be.
“Ew. I’m giving it back. It looks prehistoric,” you narrow your eyes, knowing that you don’t even have to put your fingers nears your nose to know that it’s already left a faint stench on them.
Yoongi rolls his eyes, a habit he can’t tell he’s formed himself or got from you. “If you use your brain for one second, you’d realize that it’s actually worth more because it’s older. Collectors would go crazy for that in the future.”
“That sounds like a hoarding problem.”
He’s just had about enough of your whining so he attempts to trade in the old coin for his lucky new one, but you stop him at the last minute with a meek smile.
“Kidding. Thank you. I’ll keep it safe, Yoongi. I promise,” you rush out before he changes his mind, scratching your ticket in silence.
He waits for you because you’re scratching so politely and neatly, a stark opposite to his experienced skill of scratching the paint off in ten strokes or less.
Your face is too close to the ticket that Yoongi can’t tell what’s happening, making him part your hair like a curtain to peek.
“Did you win?”
“Nope.”
“Let me throw that out for you.”
“No!” you squeak, keeping the ticket close to your chest. It’s a bummer that your first time is a loss, but it didn’t mean that you wanted to forget the sentiment behind it. “I-I mean no, I’ll keep it. It’s memorable now that I think about it.”
“Alright,” he shrugs carelessly, a smile breaking out in retaliation. “Hoarder.”
“Gambler,” you spit, tucking the ticket into your pencil case. “Next week again?”
Yoongi agrees, wrapping his head around the fact that he doesn’t have to be alone in his little routine every Friday.
“Sure.”
( ♡ )
You don’t mind getting hand-me-downs.
As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that it’s been loved enough to be passed on to you.
You adore your mother’s dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you don’t mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoon’s shirts that he’s outgrown, even through the numerous phases he’s had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.
You don’t mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that you’re probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase aren’t covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. It’s home to your mother and Namjoon — if it’s good enough for them, then it’s already the best for you.
Even on top of everything, you don’t mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and you’d barely bat an eye.
You don’t mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they weren’t offered, you’d seek them yourself.
So when Yoongi mentioned that he’s decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.
“Go crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.”
“I feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,” you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. It’s a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything he’s ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.
Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. “It’s either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebody’s uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.”
You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebody’s uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.
The thick gray hoodie you’ve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought you’d gotten hurt.
“No way, this too? But this is your favorite,” you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that there’s a catch to it belonging in the pile.
“Eh. I know it looked good on me but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Besides, I’ve bulked up! Wanna feel?” Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brother’s at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.
“You and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.”
There’s random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what you’re only allowed to grab from his stuff.
You’re not greedy — you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But there’s that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubik’s cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.
There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.
“Yoongi.”
“What now?” he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.
“Are you serious? Your helmet?” you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. “Does this mean you’re passing your motorcycle to me?!”
“Are you crazy? Fuck no,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesn’t miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; he’s not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. “Obviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.”
You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasn’t full of his shit. “Come on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.”
“Teaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.
“But you still haven’t taught me,” you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course — why would he do that for you?
You have an inkling that you’re being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after… by him.
Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didn’t mean to be that blunt. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to have your driving permit,” he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.
You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. “But I’m old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that can’t fit in your carrier.”
He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. “You’re so stubborn.”
“You’re a hypocrite,” you retort, knowing for a fact he’s known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot.
Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. You’re still not looking at him and you’re pouting and you don’t even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.
“I will teach you next week.”
“Oh my-…”
He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. “Provided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly don’t have a job yet-…”
“Ouch.”
“And I don’t have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what you’ll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,” Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. They’re too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.
“You go on rides wearing your pajamas.”
“Just say ‘thank you, Yoongi’.”
“You haven’t done anything yet,” you trail off, head tilting in confusion.
You’ve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.
“Thank you, Yoongi,” he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He won’t stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you won’t go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.
“Thank you, Yoongi,” you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.
He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.
“You can have the helmet.”
( ♡ )
Yoongi knows the ins and outs of your home.
He’s been at your house too much to the point that your mom already gave him a spare key and nobody batted an eye about it. He has his own designated slippers at the entryway too, something you would only use in a hurry if you needed to sign off on a package.
Yoongi, for some reason unfathomable (not really; you can tell exactly why because your mom is an extremely warm and inviting person), also has the power of dibs on the food in your fridge. He’d put strips of masking tape with his name on food that’s neither brought in nor made for him in the first place.
It should be off-putting — the way that for too many yet too little reason, Yoongi has become a prominent figure in your life even if you didn’t ask him to. You should be peeved that you have to set up four plates more often that you set up only three; you should be annoyed at some point that when you wake up at random times through the night, you’re not totally alone to begin with.
You shouldbe angry at Yoongi to a degree because he’s in your life and you don’t get to have a say on how he stays in it. The only problem is that you’re not, and probably never will.
“Can’t sleep?” you mutter as you look up from your strikingly clear paper, seeing Yoongi strut across the floor with a casualness that only real occupants of the house should supposedly possess. He has his brows furrowed at you as if he didn’t expect to see you in your living room, scratching his head in wonder.
“Why are you up?”
“Stressed,” you sigh, giving up altogether in attempting to make yourself look busy. Yoongi drives by your fridge to get himself a can of beer, finally seating himself beside you on the floor.
“Stressed about what? I’m sure it’s not about studying,” he snorts, unsurprised at your paper and the clear lack of motivation behind it. You only roll your eyes at him and he has half a mind to not remind you to not do it so much, the frown in your face reminding him that you really were frustrated.
It is you to throw the occasional tantrum, but he remembers that it was only when you were young; when Namjoon would whisper gibberish to his ear and purposely not whisper to yours just so he could tease you, or when nobody would believe that you taught yourself how to ride a bike with no training wheels. You didn’t know how to do the latter at all, but what had made you throw a tantrum was that nobody believed you.
You notice Yoongi’s digs, of course. You notice each one of his more than unsubtle nods to your intelligence and whatnot, the shots at your intellect not flying over your head like he expected them to. You admit that you’ve never been that scholastic; you weren’t born a genius and you don’t try exactly hard either.
Yoongi’s only joking but you can’t help but to think that he’s pertaining to something deeper, his constant digs at your lack of a passion making you sluggish.
“We have to write this essay,” you answer simply, your tone straightforward and unwilling for banter but Yoongi bites anyway.
“But essays are the easiest,” he trails, looking at you the whole time as he takes a sip of his beer.
You exhale heavily because no matter what, he just can’t seem to get it. Yoongi knows where you’re coming from but he doesn’t know where you’re headed. As a matter of fact, you don’t know where you’re headed either. “We have to write an essay about where we see ourselves ten years from now.”
“But that’s still easy.”
“If it’s so easy, then go write it for me,” you snicker, leaning back with a huff. He constantly undermines you and although you own up to your striking mundaneness from time to time, it didn’t mean that you liked being looked down on. Yoongi’s too used to you being yourself, he gets taken aback when you grow sick of your own.
He gathers all his willpower, far from being sleepy unlike you who would’ve been lulled to sleep if only you weren’t dead-set on arguing with him. “You know what? I actually will,” he claps, handing you his beer. “Go hold this for me.”
Yoongi grips your pen for dear life like you hold his beer, his hand warm as he works from sheer determination alone (he’s not competing with anyone except for whatever expectation you have for him and your paper), while yours was cold just holding his drink.
You’ve been so quiet that he actually gets curious, turning his head to check to see if you’ve dozed off when actually, it’s just you eyeing the can.
“No one’s watching,” Yoongi breaks you out of your thoughts, carelessly shrugging. He cares and he’s far too concerned for you, but he figures that nothing would hurt you so long as he can grasp you. “It’s okay. You can have your first sip.”
You blink owlishly at him and when he jokes about taking it back, you take your first swig of beer in a panic. Yoongi only shakes his head in amusement, pausing his writing just to see the look on your face.
“One more?” he asks right after he sees you wince, the unbearable sweetness yet bitter, stinging aftertaste of the beer making you shudder.
You have the urge to wash off the taste with ice cold water (you’ll even drink from the tap because you’re so desperate), but you resist it just so you wouldn’t look like a weakling in front of him. You wave him off with a bitterness, upset that beer doesn’t taste like what you’ve always imagined it to be. “Just write my essay for me,” you mull over the taste in your tongue, in deep thought while you stare at Yoongi’s back ahead of you. “Do all beers taste that way?”
“Eh. Most of them do. You develop a taste for it later on,” he answers, taking the can back from you before drinking it himself. He looks too dedicated in writing your essay, only goading the curiosity in you to peek over his shoulder.
He knows you, both in heart and memory, because he shields your own paper from you when he sees your shadow hovering above him.
“Yoongi?”
“Hm.”
“I told you why I’m up. Why are you up?”
He’s silent entirely, the only indication that he heard your question being his hand pausing abruptly. Yoongi doesn’t answer, and you don’t ask again. “Don’t worry about it.”
You take his answer to heart, dozing off on the couch before you know it. You don’t remember a blanket being placed on you, nor can you remember preparing your backpack for school the next day.
Your paper’s neatly tucked into your portfolio bearing handwriting that’s clearly not yours, but with a sentiment that’s similar nonetheless. You read through everything quickly before even stepping towards your teacher, the tips of your fingers just as cold as Yoongi’s beer last night.
You’ve committed the paper into your memory, even until the last part with an excerpt you can’t forget despite having passed the paper already. You don’t know what to feel because it’s Yoongi who’s speaking for you, detailing that ten years from now, you will still be your mother’s daughter and your brother’s sister.
He wrote your essay either for you or in behalf of you, and you can’t tell which one is better.
Yoongi, who knows the ins and outs of your home and the peaks and troughs of your heart, writes in clear handwriting — Ten years from now, I will still be Yoongi’s rock.
( ♡ )
Surprisingly, Yoongi hasn’t been around that much lately.
Even Namjoon (who you consider as his Siamese twin) is clueless to why his friend hasn’t been hanging out with him lately to do either everything or nothing, confused because they’re enrolled to the same classes all the way to the same part-time jobs, yet Yoongi’s been mostly unavailable.
When Yoongi is, however, he doesn’t speak at all about his previous absences. He comes as if he’s never disappeared a few times before that, his evasion to talk about his presence being apparent even if you’ve asked him directly.
You’re getting used to his new routine of hanging out with you only when the both of you are free, no longer moving mountains for both of your schedules to line up. He’s more present this month than he was at the last, the criteria for it being how many times you bump into him in your own home.
Despite all odds and evens though, Yoongi can’t get used to your silence. He knows you hold grudges longer than your brother, and the last time that he checked, he knows you’ve already let go of your annoyance for him suddenly being unavailable without any explanation.
It’s late, only the two of you are awake in the living room, there’s ten scratch tickets on the table for you to share, and he’s even gotten you your own glass to which he’ll put a controlled amount (a grand total of two long sips) of his own beer in. You’re not stressing about an essay this time, but the unconscious pout on your face is still the same.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
The frown on your face only goes deeper at being found out, the scratch of your lucky coin being the only clear thing that Yoongi hears.
“My best friends want to have this slumber party,” you sigh, more upset about what you’ve just uttered than you are happy about the cash prize you’ve just won.
Yoongi takes what you say at face-value, groaning at his third straight loss for the night. “That’s great. Wear cute pajamas, snap a couple of polaroids, don’t be the first to fall asleep and last to wake up, and just keep a pocket knife with you when you’re going out by yourself.”
The awe (and slight concern) over what he said should roll in any time now.
You should be comforted at Yoongi’s words because they’re supposed to ease the swirl of your stomach, even if what he just said is a repackaged version of what your family said before. You should let go of your worries because Yoongi, of all people, says that it’s supposed to be great.
Instead, you feel neither of what you think Yoongi wants you to.
“Was it something I said?” he mumbles after some time, turning his nose up at you as he tries to retrace his words. “I have an extra pocket knife you can borrow if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“We’re gonna be talking about boys, Yoongi,” you screw your eyes shut, sighing into the palms of your hands with a heaviness. “We’re gonna talk about crushes and experiences and all that.”
He shudders at that, his reaction mirroring Namjoon’s when you tried opening up to him. You get your brother’s reaction to a degree, of course, because you feel as if you’d be disgusted too if the roles were reversed. You want to talk about it with your mom too, but at the end of the day, she’s your parent and you just can’t talk about anything and everything with her.
Yoongi’s your next plausible option.
“Do you want some ice cream right now? You know what, I’ll buy you-…” Yoongi tries to evade the topic altogether, his attempt of escaping feeble as you drag him down by his hoodie.
“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”
“Heh.”
Yoongi shrugs at that, regaining his words when you deadpan at him. “So? What about it?”
You starfish on the floor at that out of frustration, the whine you’ve been bottling up coming out in the open because as usual, Yoongi doesn’t get it. “I-I’m probably the only one in my grade who hasn’t kissed someone yet! I can’t just lie carelessly because obviously, they’ll ask around.”
“So?” Yoongi chuckles, his breeze towards your state shocking you. “What’s it to them if you haven’t had your first kiss?”
“You don’t get it,” you grit through your teeth, crossing your arms so hard that it feels hard to inhale.
“I’m pretty sure I do,” he sing-songs, drinking the last of his beer. When you’re not looking though, he plans to either drink or chuck the remainder of your share because he doesn’t want you to develop a taste for it.
The anger you have for Yoongi bubbles up once again, the itch in your throat unbearable. You’re presented with the age gap between you once more, along with the raging emptiness in you that Yoongi’s reached so far and you’ve reached so little.
“You don’t get it because you’ve had all of these experiences when you were younger than my age right now,” you snap, although you don’t look at him when you do. If you do look at him though, you’ll only be reminded of how a face like his could have everything in this world — even a first kiss you’ve never had.
“Yeah, and so?” he knits his brows, growing defensive. You weren’t lying at all, but he still feels a little offended at the dig. He’s not not proud of it, but with the way you say it, it’s like you want him to burn in shame,
“Stop saying so,” you angrily mumble in frustration, a little breathless because you still don’t ease up on crossing your arms.
Yoongi straightens his posture, staring you down with his jaw set. He’s stern as he is, nostrils flaring in irritation. “No, Y/N. I’m genuinely asking — so what? What’s it to you if I had my first kiss at a younger age? What about it if everyone else in your grade has kissed someone and you haven’t? It’s not the end of the world.”
“I-I don’t know! It’s just unfair!” you let up, yielding to both the facts that Yoongi’s right with it not being the end of the world, and that you’re still entitled to feeling upset.
“Instead of spending time obsessing over your first kiss, maybe I don’t know, try being productive? You’re heading to college soon and you haven’t even thought of a career,” Yoongi goes off on you, making you roll your eyes automatically. There he goes again with the great big push of trying to push you into your supposed passions in life. “Someone else’s luck doesn’t mean it’s already your misfortune.”
“But it is.”
You say it so definitively, you almost convince him. You have your principles and so does Yoongi, but not everyone else. You have your principles yet you don’t have the luck. You’re not getting anywhere in life just like Yoongi or anyone else who was remotely born into wealth, no matter how quiet or obvious.
You can’t pursue something that interests you in the slightest without thinking what would come out of it. You can’t think of a degree and a course you’ll stick with, enough to do for the rest of your life because the only other option is to fail completely if you don’t. You have no plan and no passion and you don’t know if you’ll ever amount to anything to anyone at all.
By all means, you don’t agree with Yoongi this time. Someone else’s luck is your misfortune, in the same way that his first kiss doesn’t mean that it’s yours.
The sidetrack to your argument is a closed case already, judging by your downcast gaze. “I just have to put myself out there, that’s all. My first kiss doesn’t even have to mean anything. I just want to have it,” you admit, shoulders relaxing.
“Don’t,” Yoongi groans, the opposite of you as his whole body tenses.
He thinks that you don’t get him at all.
“What do you meandon’t?”
Your argument’s long-over (atleast you thought it was) but Yoongi’s getting more agitated by the minute, the disbelief on his face throwing you off. “Don’t do things just because you feel like you have to! Are you even hearing yourself right now?”
“I don’t want to be left behind, Yoongi! That’s all I’m trying to get at,” you raise your hands in surrender, shrugging thoughtlessly — it makes him want yell into a paper bag in exasperation. “I don’t want to be picked last. I don’t want to not be wanted.”
Yoongi exhales, screwing his eyes shut. It stays silent like that for a little while; him calming himself down, and you scratching your tickets. The calm doesn’t stay for long because you open your mouth carelessly, again.
“Can you be my first kiss?”
“Are you insane?”
“Ugh.”
You go back to your fourth scratch ticket, pouting in disappointment. You’re unfazed about the win that’s probably the largest sum you’ve had ever since you started doing the lottery.
You’re upset and you’re sick in the stomach but you stay silent like you never asked Yoongi to be your first kiss; it’s like you haven’t indirectly admitted to him that you love him enough, more than so, to want him to be your first.
You’re about to scratch the final ticket when Yoongi juts his hand out, fingers barely brushing yours to stop you.
“On second thought, don’t scratch that. Just keep it.”
“Because you want to turn me into a hoarder too?” you snicker, heeding his suggestion regardless.
“Because I’m not going to be right about everything,” Yoongi mumbles, looking at you with a solemnness you can’t decipher.
You try until the solemnness turns into pity.
“Still don’t want to be my first kiss?”
Yoongi softly laughs to your face, smiling as he lets you down — whether easily or harshly, you can’t tell.
“You already know what I’m going to say.”
( ♡ )
You’d like to think that you’re not kept in the dark about most things.
You already know that although your mom hasn’t had any relationships since your dad left, she still has plenty of suitors. Some of them are the reason why you have random food deliveries in the middle of the dinner that she’s already cooked, some have sucked up to her by getting you and Namjoon gifts.
You know about Namjoon’s growing love for football, even with the lessons he takes in secret because he didn’t want to trouble your mom for the money. It’s why he does his part-time job and why you’re looking for one anyways. You don’t want nor need much, so you almost always give him the remainder of your allowance by the end of each week.
Yoongi, on the other hand, you don’t know much about. You know that he’s an only child with a doting mom who works overseas and a rich but emotionally unavailable dad at home, and that’s about it. His home life is synonymous with yours, considering that your four walls have become an extension of his.
Maybe you’ve become too lenient on him — either that, or he’s become too disrespectful. It’s at times like these where your house is not his home, sickeningly so that you don’t want it to be yours either.
Yoongi is a sight to behold as he makes out with a half-naked girl on your bed, in your room. Your room has never been the neatest but with everything going on, it feels that it’s become the dirtiest that it’s ever been. Your house slippers are on the floor even if you always leave them by the entryway, and your sheets are a mess despite being one of the only things you try to keep folded in the room.
You’re angry, too much to the point that the words get caught in your throat. They catch onto bile and venom and everything at once, the strain in your voice heard when you yell.
“What the fuck?!”
Yoongi and the girl, whom you figure out to be Hyewon that he’s shared his first kiss with, jolt in unison. Hyewon’s scared shitless while Yoongi’s annoyed to death, the grunt he lets out pricking your ears further. “Sorry, sorry. She’s my best friend’s sister. She’s so annoying,” he drags you out of your room before he even gives you the entitlement to storm out of there in a fit of rage, seeing red the longer that he seems upset at you.
“What the fuck was that, Yoongi?” you grit through your teeth, the moment of you seeing red turn into white because you’re so frustrated that you could actually cry. Your chest’s heavy, not only out of rage, but out of everything that’s built up in the course of years.
“Can you keep it down?” Yoongi seethes, pursing his lips. “What, would you rather see us do it in the living room?”
“In the — what? Who do you think you are? This isn’t even your house, why are you bringing these girls here?” you point an accusing finger at him yet he doesn’t back away, his annoyance for you only growing tenfold.
He’s in the wrong no matter which way you look at it yet he doesn’t realize it, the epiphany that Yoongi genuinely thinks he’s in the right for doing this to you making your skin burn in fire.
“This is literally the first time I’ve ever done this! I can’t bring her back to my place, my dad has guests over!”
“So your smartest idea is to fuck someone in my bed?”
“Oh, you’re welcome. It’s the most action your four walls have ever seen,” he spits sarcastically, eyes narrowing at you. It takes little effort for him to dig up what you came to him for in worry and it terrifies you. The facet of Yoongi who had sternly told you that it was okay to be left behind if it means getting what you deserve, resembling nothing like him at the moment.
“I can’t believe you!” you whisper as you tremble, the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I told you that in confidence.”
“In confidence? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re not exactly a catch, Y/N.”
You clench your jaw so hard that it hurts, you ball your fists so tightly that it stings.
You leave your home without saying another word.
.
.
.
Namjoon’s panicked.
He came home a little later than usual because he had maximized the life out of his soccer lessons, only getting the signal to leave when the lights were turned off. He was only slightly worried at the first place because he was supposed to cook dinner for the both of you, but he placated himself by realizing that you’re not the baby that he still thinks you are — you could cook dinner for yourself if you were hungry already.
He thinks nothing of it. In fact, he just makes a quick stop at the convenience store so the both of you could indulge in a liter of ice cream without your mom urging to leave some for another night. You could think of a recipe from scratch (and it almost always works out at the end), so Namjoon walked in fully thinking he’ll get to sniff whatever concoction you have.
Except, he walks into a completely dark house, and that’s when he panics.
He can’t find your slippers by the entryway and you’re not in your room either. You’re not at the other convenience store hunched over taking your chances on scratch tickets, and you’re not out on the street either going people-watching.
The panic rises in him the more that Namjoon grasps this is the first time that this has ever happened and he doesn’t know why. He’s always made an effort to be absorbed into both your personal and academic affairs, and as far as he knows, you’re neither in a sleepover nor on a field trip somewhere.
Namjoon thinks it’s his fault someway somehow, and the guilt can’t fully dissipate from him until he sees you.
“Hey, Yoongi,” he breathlessly gasps the moment his friend answers, the latter being surprised because he thought it was you who was calling him after what happened awhile ago.
It’s his fault and he’s realized that hours too late, and the selfish part of him thinks that it’s you calling at ten in the evening begging for forgiveness.
“What’s up, man? It’s late,” he wonders out loud, thinking for a second if they were too much of the Siamese twins that you tease them to be because he can’t think of a rational reason why Namjoon would call him at this time of night.
Namjoon raggedly exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just wondering if you’ve seen Y/N by any chance?”
Yoongi’s heart drops so loudly that Namjoon thought for second that his friend had hung up on him, his urgency being shared the moment that he asked.
“What? Y/N isn’t home?” Yoongi asks in disbelief, immediately being filled with anxiety and disbelief. Just awhile ago, the two of you were arguing outside of your room. He did hear you leave, but he had fully expected for you to be back hours ago. He’s wracked with guilt all over, the drop in his chest amplified by the pit in his stomach.
“She’s not. Practice ran late and I-I know she’s responsible so I didn’t hurry home,” Namjoon recalls, being more and more frazzled by the second. “She left her phone here, and mom isn’t here either because she’s visiting my grandparents, a-and I don’t want to call her because I know she’ll be worried, a-and-…”
Yoongi interrupts him, the tremble in his fingers only enabling him to dig his nails into his palm deeper. “I’m coming over. Let’s look for her together.”
It barely takes a minute for the both of them to come together, not even exchanging any pleasantries with each other before Yoongi steps on the gas.
Namjoon’s filled with guilt, the type that only a sibling could carry as a burden. He thinks he was too selfish — too accustomed to pulling your own weight that it must have given you the impression that you had no other choice but to. Whatever it was that made you leave out of the blue, Namjoon thinks he could’ve done more. He should’ve came home and made you dinner as promised, for starters. He’s guilty over the fact that he’s the only close familial male figure in your life and he let this happen, as he makes Yoongi put his headlights on high-beam, scanning for anyone that looks remotely like you.
Yoongi, on the other hand, is filled with a guilt he can’t even begin to explain. It corrodes him from the inside-out in realization that he’s to blame for your sudden disappearance, the fact that Namjoon comes to him first to help find you not helping at all. If only your brother knew what he had done to you, he’s positive that he’ll be on the receiving end of a punch — what gets him more is that Yoongi wouldn’t blame him at all.
They see you in the bus stop two cities away, dressed in the same clothes you ran out with.
Namjoon’s relieved beyond compare while Yoongi’s fuming, his hands tucked inside his jacket to prevent himself from squeezing you into an embrace; neither of you deserve it.
There’s an underlying anger within Namjoon, one that lies behind the back of his throat as he checks you over for any injuries. The two of you walk ahead to Yoongi’s car while he himself trails behind, his heart significantly calmer than it was the past hour, yet nowhere near normal.
“Wanna tell me what you did?” your brother hums, trying to exhale the worry that’s embedded into him with each squeeze he gives around your shoulders.
“Went to the convenience store, bumped into my friends, then we took this impromptu roadtrip to go to the night market, then we all had our first actual shot of liquor and not just beer, my friend who owns the car turned out to be a lightweight, and now everyone just has to commute home,” you narrate in recollection, squeezing Namjoon back to try and ground him.
“Okay,” he answers simply, nodding. “Wanna tell me what happened before you did all those things?”
The breathless chuckle that leaves you is empty, void of any amusement at all. You smile nonetheless, unable to placate both yourself and Namjoon. “Nope.”
You arrive in silence to Yoongi’s car, the words unsaid between the three of you generating more tension than your brief disappearance itself.
Yoongi opens the front door for you, but you settle for sitting in the backseat.
Trocadero
You and Yoongi have known each other since school, forging lives for yourselves in the city you both love. One night changes the trajectory of your lives.
Pairing: Yoongi x F!reader
Rating: 18+
Word count: 10k total
Genre: Non-idol AU, smut, angst
Warnings: Sexually explicit scenes, explicit language, murder, violence. Unsuitable for minors.
Part 1
Part 2
©hamsterclaw 2021
mother knows best | index.
pairing | ot7 x female reader (platonic), ot7 moms & female reader
summary | being the only woman in a friend group with seven men automatically makes you the love interest in seven mothers’ wistful romantic stories. though your relationship with the guys remains completely platonic, the marriage fantasy their moms frequently project onto you and their sons has them coming up with all sorts of shenanigans to make you their daughter-in-law. mother knows best, you suppose.
warnings | overbearing moms, attempts at humor, platonic, slice of life au
note | a drabble series featuring the (fictionalized) bangtan moms! <33
main story ;
drabble 1 | sunday lunch
drabble 2 | of quail eggs and perms
drabble 3 | of hair styles and scissors
drabble 4 | of tangerines and dumplings
drabble 5 | mafia game
drabble 6 | code red
drabble 7 | father knows best
drabble 8 | a solemn day
drabble 9 | of ferris wheels and pomeranians
drabble 10 | of burns and skin care routines
drabble 11 | of fights and allergies
drabble 12 | once upon a treasure hunt
drabble 13 | of breakups and bouquet tosses
drabble 14 | a decade of friendship
drabble 15 | mother knows best
scenarios ;
scenario 1 ; what if tae’s eomma makes him & oc go to hawaii?
scenario 2 ; what if the members get tired of their eomma’s antics?
scenario 3 ; what if a someone flirts with the members (or vice versa) while they’re out with their mom?
asks ;
ask 1 ; what if the moms had a group chat?
ask 2 ; are the members idols in this au?
others ;
tag ; who is oc’s appa’s favorite among the members?
character asks ; the mkb gang answers your questions!
— status ; completed
Set Me Free - Masterlist
❥❥ Pairing: yoongi x female reader
❥❥ Genre: arranged marriage au, angst, fluff, smut
❥❥ Summary: Growing up as the sole heiress to your father’s fortune wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. In desperate need to escape your home life, you enter into an unexpected arrangement with the infamous Min Yoongi. Will the both of you be able to find freedom, happiness and possibly love?
❥❥ Word Count: 125k
❥❥ Status: Completed
My Masterlist
❥❥ Chapters
1. The Arrangement
2. Reflections
3. Greys
4. Entry Wound
5. Gravity
6. The Wedding
7. Da Capo
8. First Love
9. Interlude: Set Me Free
10. Les Amants
11. Butterfly Effect
12. Swan Song
13. Epilogue
© myooniverse - all writing is property of myooniverse. Do not re-post on other platforms
Yoongi's Girl
Part 2
Warning- to many to list! This is pure smut so take this as your warning my lovelies x please note this hasn't been edited but I couldn't wait to share!
You wait patiently in your room but yoongi keeps you waiting. You can't work out if to keep your silk robe on off so you leave it on but open, your harden nipples can be seen through the silk and you had decided to remove your underwear as you did want another set ruined. You hear the door knob rattle and the door slowly opening, "Just making sure your OK and if you need someth" you quickly cover up " for fucks sake tae what have i told you about knocking?". He stood there like a deer in the headlights, he was definitely a boob man. I would often notice him staring and then get flustered like a young teenage boy when I clocked him. "Sorry y/n I'll see you in the morning", you sighed whilst falling back on the bed where the hell is Min and why is he keeping waiting. As I bolted up from the bed yoongi walks through the door, you quickly try and straighting your self up and try you best to look suductive. "You OK you look in pain", "God Yoongi I'v been sat here waiting for you looking all nice and the time you finally show up I look a bloody mess". You hear a low chuckle "I think someone is a bit frustrated do you?" you lay back huffing as your silk robes falls either side of you. "why don't you show daddy were you want to be touched" he says walking to the foot of the bed, he grabs you ankles and pulls you down, you open you legs and and reach down and gather some slick that has be leaking from you aching cunt and run you finger up to your clit. Instantly feeling electricity run through you body, knowing Mins eyes are on you, you look at him and let out a breathy moan. " look at you showing me how much of needy slut you are, keep going y/n ." his words, his voice, HIM just him drives you wild, he makes you want to be this needy slut he calls you, you want him to use you, to please you, have you begging for his touch like it was it your life." Fuck daddy please" you scream as you feel his breath against your inner thigh. "Not get baby, daddy's enjoying the show too much, why don't you be a good slut and bend over, let daddy get a better view of that dripping cunt" you don't argue you flip over arching your back, making sure you give him what he wants, you bring your hand down slipping a finger into your dripping cunt. " Good girl but I know one finger is not going to be enough, add another make sure you stretch yourself for daddy". You do what he says feeling the slight stretch as you insert another digit. You moan in pleasure feeling the warm knot starting to build but you needed more, more to tip you over the edge, more to have you squirting over fingers, more to have you screaming your man's name. "Daddy please I need you to help me, please daddy need your hands, your mouth anything please" you felt his presence as he stepped closer feeling hands round the curve of you ass, spreading you cheeks feeling his clothed hard dick against you, you start to push back wanting to feel him. " Keep fucking that pussy with you fingers baby, daddy's going to take care of your tight ass". You felt him spread you cheeks apart as he spat on your puckered hole, feeling it drip down on to your hand as you slowly inserted a third finger, you let out a ferral cry when you felt his tongue kitten lick your ass hole, usually his tongue was all you needed but not tonight, tonight you were his dirty filthy slut and needed more. "Daddy please, fuck my ass with you fingers, I need you please daddy"........tbc
•APPRECIATION POST•
Fics recommendations : jungkook (mostly) || yoongi
can also be read as : starter pack of jungook & yoongi’s ff
🤎 - personnal favorite
1. ongoing series that makes my heart beats when there is a new update. everything below is chef kiss
mutual help @personasintro • jjk 🤎
color me in @taegularities • jjk 🤎
three tangerines @kithtaehyung • myg 🤎
schemin’ @dollfaceksj • myg 🤎
over wine @koocycle • jjk
risqué @mercurygguk • jjk
call me @peachypinkygloss • jjk
in which collection @onlyswan • jjk 🤎
spicy’n sweet @thvhoe • jjk
when the end comes @oddinary4bts • jjk 🤎
& more to come…
2. special mention to those fics (series+oneshot) who are onhold or completed and gave me the same effect
mathilda @babystrcandy • myg 🤎
rattled @gukslut • jjk 🤎
to build a home @soft4gguk • jjk
long way home @sparklingchim • jjk
the boy with galaxies in his eyes @oddinary4bts • jjk
idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk • jjk
reminder @dollfaceksj • jjk
daydream @xpeachesncream • myg 🤎
cool with you @kooktrash • jjk
bad influence @noteguk • jjk
taste of a poison paradise @dollfaceksj • jjk 🤎 (drabble and bullet points format!! last drabble soon!!)
deep six @bratkook • jjk (heard there will be a prequel ehehe!)
& more to come…
💌 to writers : please do believe that all of your works are worth to read. i am enjoying them a lot, very. so keep going because i will be there to support all of your work, the shortest to the longest one!
🧸 to readers passing by : enjoy reading fics as much as i like it, give support is the nicest thing you could do and i truly believe that it keeps the interaction more alive :)
•FICS LATELY•
again mostly jungkook and yoongi
continuation to this list
🤎 - personnal favorite (secretely want to put that heart everywhere)
@jaykaysthicthighs :
• end of the love story | jjk 🤎
• kiss me better | jjk
realistic (?) relationship at its peak especially ‘end of the love story’. i was lost of words once i finished it
@alphabetboyluvr aka @dappledaisies on wattpad :
• bad decisions | jjk 🤎
• throttle | jjk
• color vision | jjk 🤎
• night crawlers | jjk
BASICALLY everything she wrotes is masterpiece. I could put every works of her on that list. I binge read almost everything in few weeks
@peachypinkygloss :
• places i know | jjk 🤎
pain yet so good
@kookslastbutton :
• when i say forever | jjk
• too late to dream | jjk
where can i sign to have him too? him as an husband must be holy grail
@dollfaceksj :
• can’t afford love | myg
• sill don’t know my name | jjk 🤎
ALWAYS been weak for dad!au especially yoongs ones. about sdkmn, looking for an e2(?) then go for it! the tension is hawt as hell. (clovs babe i believe it will be e2l at the end i trust my guts + you did edge me with that ending arghh)
@13lov :
• tethered | jjk
(atm : 2 parts) i can’t stand his sister. let them be happy :(
@archivedkookie :
• after hours | myg
• need you | jjk 🤎
yoongs and kook : both simps
@jeonqkooks :
• our beloved summer | jjk
i am team yoongi atp. i am so mad against oc and jungkook. like cmon babes, lets communicate, i can be your therapist if you want me too? otherwise i am lovin a bit too much this series
@babystrcandy :
• the lucky one | jjk
noa’s healing fic🫶🏼
@oddinary4bts :
• november sun | jjk 🤎
short story big emotions
@wintaerbaer :
• seven storms | jjk 🤎
beautiful story
@jjungxkook :
• blackout | jjk
I think i read it twice already but feels good to reread (it’s a 3 parts). I am so whipped for both of them. Oh and the angst here? mindblowing and i loveeeeee it
@ot7always :
• oh my god they were (quarantined) roomates | jjk
a must to read. 17k notes ain’t enough
@yoonia
• carousel | myg
looking for good plot and suspense? you got served! i am actually half way through it and i just fell in love with all the cliffhanger
—
now that all of our boys are enlisting, my wish is for you writers to please keep feeding me with your writing about them. your works keep me alive and i am not even dramatic. i joined tumblr not too long ago and since then i enjoyed so much being here, i laughed, cried, screamed… a way to be comforted. and very much thank you to yall!
i know that 2025 is far away - actually no it is not so far away at some point - but our 7 is counting on us. we will wait for them so that they can fulfilled their promise!
yay to many years filled with bangtan💜
fail-safe; series masterlist
pairing: yoongi x reader
glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.
alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.
warnings: a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts + specified tags in each installment!
notes: thank you so much for all the love n patience for fail-safe 🫂🩷 i Love ur brains pls send ur thoughts n rants here :)
cross-posted on ao3. early access + exclusive content on patreon.
01: part one
02: intermission
03: part two
04: intermission 02
05: part three; finale
lonely blooming hearts - min yoongi au - masterlist
📘summary: all yoongi was looking for on that ominous erotic chat website was a little fun and distraction but what he found was you. after meeting you for the second time, he can tell there’s something different about you, and that something has captivated his heart faster than he admits. But what is going to happen when you find out who he is?
💘pairing: Yoongi x barista!reader, Namjoon x oc🍰
genre: social media, fake text & scenario au, fluff, possible crack, angst, possible romantic smut in the future
updates: once a week, most likely on monday 🗓
rating: M (+16)
status: ongoing
Disclaimer: Although this is a reader-inserted story, it may occur that I use pictures or describe scenes that include a physical representation of Y/n which doesn’t necessarily matches your own appearance. However, I’m really just using these descriptions or pictures for the sake of the story, for fake social media posts. I know a characterization can never fit all readers, but I really hope you are not put off by that. As someone who also reads reader-insert fics from time to time, I am hopeful you can oversee the difference between story-y/n and yourself and just transform the picture in your head accordingly.
📝 = scenario chapter 🥵= explicit content❗️= trigger warning
💌Profiles💌
🌸intro/chapter 1🌸
🌸part 2🌸
🌸part 3🌸
🌸part 4🌸
🌸part 5🌸
🌸part 6🌸
🌸part 7🌸
🌸chapter 8🌸 📝
🌸chapter 9🌸
🌸chapter 10🌸📝
🌸part 11🌸
🌸chapter 12🌸📝
🌸chapter 13🌸
🌸chapter 14🌸📝
🌸chapter 15🌸📝
🌸chapter 16🌸
🌸chapter 17🌸📝
🌸chapter 18🌸📝
🌸chapter 19🌸📝
🌸chapter 20🌸
🌸chapter 21🌸
🌸chapter 22 🌸📝
🌸chapter 23 🌸
🌸chapter 24🌸📝
🌸chapter 25🌸
🌸chapter 26🌸📝
🌸chapter 27🌸📝
🌸Bonus Chapter Muni & Namjoon🌸📝
🌸chapter 28🌸📝
🌸chapter 29🌸📝
🌸chapter 30🌸📝
🌸chapter 31🌸📝
🌸chapter 32🌸
🌸chapter 33🌸📝
🌸chapter 34🌸📝
🌸chapter 35🌸📝
🌸chapter 36🌸📝
🌸chapter 37🌸📝
🌸chapter 38🌸📝
🌸chapter 39🌸📝
🌸chapter 40🌸📝
🌸Epilogue🌸📝
🌸🌸🌸
(m. list) kiss it better | myg
🠒 summary: you're one of the lucky ones, everyone else tells you. finding your soulmate the day you turn 18 isn't something that happens to a lot of people... but you and your other half are going to have to make a lot of progress to be able to tolerate each other.
or, you and yoongi can feel everything the other feels, and you're hell bent on causing each other pain.
🠒 pairing: yoongi x reader
🠒 genre: angst, fluff, e2l!au, soulmates!au, college au, crack?
🠒 warnings: profanity, implied smut
🠒 notes: i own up to being a soulmates!au hoe... and here is the attestation for it. i hope you enjoy reading this!!!
PARTS
🠒 01 | one gaze
🠒 02 | two band-aids
🠒 03 | three roses
🠒 04 | the four of us
🠒 05 | five dates
🠒 06 | six idiots (plus yoongi)
🠒 07 | seven o'clock
🠒 epilogue | lifetime with you
taglist: open, just send an ask!
💜💜💜
So What? | MYG | Masterlist
Pair: Hybrid Cat Yoongi x F Reader
Summary: Running from a past that foreshadows him, Yoongi is adamant about ever turning back to his human counterpart form, in hopes that nobody would recognise him and take him away. You worked at a cafe with your best friend. As a more-than-normal day seemed to go by, you discovered something amidst your housing block. Perhaps - just perhaps, the nighttime is where the angels arrive.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au
Warnings: Contains explicit language, abuse
Total WC: 31473
Taglist: @bearr02 @svnbangtansworld @vintageoldfashion @prwprwprwpr @bontensbabygirl @codeinebelle @ldysmfrst @idkjustlovingbts @popcatx0 @yoonjinsgirl @marblemoonstones
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
🐈⬛
Missing Pieces Masterlist
Mafia!Yoongi x Female Reader
Genre: Mafia AU, Enemies To Lovers, Strangers To Lovers, Unexpected/Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst, Fluff
Description: Hooking up with Yoongi was a mistake. A mistake you’ve been making for the past 8 months. You knew he was dangerous; your friends had warned you before. Dealing with him was a bad decision. You knew that one day, things would get messy. That day came when you found out that you were pregnant. You didn’t expect things to go well, but you also didn’t expect things to spiral out of control either. When telling him about the pregnancy doesn’t exactly go as planned, you’re forced into a world you know little about. It’s there where you find out just how dangerous Min Yoongi really is.
Warnings (Still Updating): Mature Content, Crime, Violence, Unexpected/Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Heavy Angst, Torture, Cursing, Lots of Blood, Death, Lots of Trust Issues….
Keep reading
diamonds are a girls best friend | myg | part 1
》 pairing: best friends dad yoongi x f!reader
》 genre: smut, fluff, angst, three-shot, hidden relationship
》 word count: 7.4k
》 rating: 21+ for explicit smut
》 summary: you know it’s wrong. so wrong. there’s a saying that goes around - “if you can’t tell your best friend about it, then you probably shouldn’t be doing it” but when what you shouldn’t be doing is your best friend’s ridiculously hot and wealthy dad, just how do you say no to that.
》 warnings: forbidden romance, sneaking around? , dom!yoongi, sub!reader, age gap, ugh our lil couple is stupidly in lurv, lots of kissing, lots of hiding, love bites, sucking and biting, our yoongi gets off on being caught sO - exhibitionist yoongi in the form of changing room sex, fingering in a cafe bathroom, unprotected sex, shower sex, overstimulation.
》 a/n: biggest thanks to @kithtaehyung for making this lovely banner , its absolutely stunning. also to @sugasbabiie & @knjsnoona for being a wonderful betas, @ressjeon for being a supportibe hoe & @kimtaehyunq for being my whole rock n allowing me to stress over this as well as betaing too - i love u ♡
》 listen to - higher
Yoongi kisses the back of your shoulders as his fingers grace lightly over your damp skin; the back of his calloused hands caressing up and down your arm softly before turning you around and pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss full of lust and want.
His large hands skim over your soft skin and grip your hips, squeezing tightly, almost as if to tell you that he is still here with you. You wrap your arms around his neck and allow him to hoist you up, pressing your back against the cold tiles behind you as your legs wrap around his hips and lock your ankles around his slender waist, encouraging him to make his next move.
“You’re such a tease, pretty girl. Leaving me waiting in a changing room for, what, fifteen minutes?” He moans against your mouth, tugging on your bottom lip and suckling the skin gently before pulling and letting it go. “You should know by now I’m not a patient man.”
Breaking the kiss, Yoongi starts to trace warm, open mouthed kisses down your neck towards the column of your throat. As he finds your sweet spot in between the junction between your neck and shoulder, you moan at the sensation of Yoongi sucking and biting lilacs and rose blossom marks into your skin before skimming over them with his tongue.
Words are lost on you - all you could do is moan out pathetically at the attention you’re receiving. The small space is getting harder to see with the hot steam clouding your sight. One hand finds the back of Yoongi’s neck and tugs on his ebony hair, allowing his head to snap up to look you in the eyes, “J-just fuck me, Yoongi, please,” you plead.
Yoongi doesn’t waste another moment as he kisses you again, and he grips his cock in his hand and aligns it with your pussy before sliding all the way in one fluid motion, causing your back to arch in his arms against the tiled wall. Giving you a moment to adjust, Yoongi trailed his lips from your mouth and along your jaw before kissing up to your ear, his teeth nipping at the sensitive lobe. The breathy sounds only add to the slick in your cunt.
“Move,” you moan out, your voice breathless and airy. Yoongi pulls out, leaving just the head in before thrusting all the way back in. You gasp out at the impact, followed by a series of moans and whines as Yoongi captures your left nipple between his teeth, suckling the sensitive bud into his mouth, before pulling away with an obscene groan of his own.
“Gotta be quiet in here, baby.” Yoongi grunts, punctuating his words with never ending hard thrusts into your pussy, head falling forward onto your shoulder as his nails dig into the flesh of your thighs. “You never know who’s around.”
Your pussy clenches at his words; the thrill of being caught in a public place is one thing, but the thought of being caught somewhere public with a man you shouldn’t be with was another. You lower your head towards his shoulder and leave open mouthed kisses on his skin in desperation. The shower water does somewhat of a job of concealing both of your moans.
“Gonna c-cum Yoongi,” you whimper.
“Me too baby, won’t last much longer.
Yoongi sighs in euphoria as he brings one hand up to knead your right tit while his tongue swirls and sucks the left one, worshipping every inch of your body. Yoongi keeps up his pace to get you to your release first, a true gentleman. Moving his hand back to your ass, he curves his fingers into your skin, leaving small, barely visible crescent shapes with his small nails as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly.
Yoongi can always tell when you’re near your release as you clench your warm inner walls around his cock repeatedly as he never falters while piledriving you into the wall. Your head falls back as you clench around him one more time.
“I’m comi-!”
Yoongi cuts you off with a kiss to mask the volume of your moans. Your eyes snap shut, white spots appear in the inside of your closed lids as your second orgasm washes over you with immense power. The climax is stronger than you initially thought as you feel wetness all along the inside of your thighs before being washed away by the water from the overhead shower hose.
With a few more erratic thrusts into your creamy cunt, Yoongi seizes and holds you up with every bit of strength in him he has left. With help from the wall and your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he relishes in the
sweet bliss of release overcoming him like a freight train.
Yoongi looks down to where your bodies meet, watching the way his cock throbs as he releases inside of you. It’s been a while since he’s filled you up like this. He rides out his orgasm slowly, sliding in and out of you, admiring the way his load puddles at your entrance.
Keep reading
back-burner | 01
sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?
PAIRING. min yoongi x reader
GENRE. sister's best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenemies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, smut, fluff
WARNINGS. one-sided pining (?), longing, sibling jealousy, alcohol consumption, drunk rambling
WORDS. 2.8k
NOTE. hey ya'll!!! sorry for being a lil MIA 😓 things have gotten super busy recently but I managed to whip out a lil wip and plan for a lil drabble series hehe. I'll probably add the tags along the way so it's hard to say where this will go lol but I hope you enjoy!!
unedited :-( !!!!
back-burner masterlist | next chapter
"You're staring again."
Jeon Jungkook is a lot of things. Capable, talented, your self-proclaimed best friend, a multi-faceted nursing student, and handsome. What he wasn't, however, was helpful.
"Wow, thank you for letting me know. It's as if these aren't my own eyes that are doing said staring you speak off," you snap sarcastically, tipping the last bit of vodka and rum down your throat as you wince at the burn.
"That smart-ass mouth isn't going to shift reality," he retorts, snatching your glass away as you glare at him.
"Haven't you heard of manifestation? Speak it into existence, they say," you babble on, mumbling to yourself as you slump further down the plush leather seats.
The gala was beautiful, as usual. Rich and accomplished people alike were mingling with one another while their charming smiles reflected off marble surfaces to highlight their apparent brightness. It was both blinding and exhausting to constantly be surrounded by such greatness, especially to a point where people approached you thinking that you were equally as capable of it.
You weren't, and you don't think you'd ever be.
"Hm, sure." Jungkook rolls his eyes at you dismissively before he considers your words with his eyes looking upwards thoughtfully. "Maybe if you actually acknowledged your feelings then something could happen."
You scowl, drowning yourself lower to a point where your face is nearly squashed under the weight of your shoulders, your face morphed into an expression that's commonplace for you. You don't acknowledge the disapproving stares that a few of these socialites give you when they pass you, affronted to witness a woman like yourself allow herself to look as loose-ended as you were.
"Who says I'm not acknowledging it?"
"No one," Jungkook blinks before he's turning to where your line of vision ends, and you're bitterly reminded of what he was referring to when your eyes settle on them once more. "But the fact Yoongi's clinking glasses with Haerin in hand says something."
"So?" you snap, shifting back into a comfortable position before you're waving a waiter down for more booze. "They can do whatever they want."
"And if that's each other?" Jungkook asks with a raised brow.
You stomp on his foot as he yelps, sending you a lethal glare while you return his gesture with a sickly plastic smile. You don't bother listening when Jungkook begins muttering curses under his breath, and neither do you care about Yoongi or Haerin and how beautiful they looked together. Or how your heart was never with you when he was around, always two steps further than where it should've been. No. You don't care.
Jungkook pushes himself off the seat before shooting you one last once-over accompanied with a deep sigh before he's retreating to where the rest of his peers lay. You had no qualms of him leaving you, in fact, you appreciated the space. You rather be alone now, anyway.
"Another vodka and rum, please," you request from the waiter that bends ever so slightly to catch your order.
"Again, Miss ____?"
You don't appreciate the look of surprise on the waiter's face. You don't even remember if you've ordered from him previously, but the fact that he's sending you very judgemental eyes tell you enough; and your booze-hazed mind sends your mouth running before you can think of giving the man a break.
"Listen, Steve, my father didn't rent out this entire venue for you to micromanage my drinking habits, okay?" Your eyes narrow at him while his eyes widen.
"No Miss, that's not what—"
"Not what you meant?" you snort, "Come on. I've heard better. Just give me my damn alcohol and—!"
"Sorry, Steve." A voice interrupts apologetically as you recognise it immediately. Your body tingles with warmth at the low baritone of your newly joined guest, but you're still a little too drunk to comprehend it. "I'll take care of her."
Steve leaves, bowing apologetically before shooting you an annoyed expression that you think was meant to be kept to himself. You're just about to climb out of your seat to give him a piece of your mind before a large hand wraps around your waist to drag you back to your seat.
"What the—?"
"Having fun?" When you look up, Yoongi's shooting you an amused smile. It's nothing ostentatious, but it's Yoongi. A little cold but genuine nevertheless. You hate that despite your alcohol-fueled mind, your heart still flutters.
"Go away, Yoongi," you grumble.
"Can't do," he chuckles before he's releasing his grip around you.
You scoff. "Go away. I don't need you micromanaging me either."
"Not micromanaging," he hums, right as he occupies the vacant seat that Jungkook's left. "I care about your liver."
"Do you," you sneer.
"Matter of fact, I do. And so do your parents so I'm doing them a favour by not giving them a heart attack when they find out you're hospitalised because you had alcohol poisoning," he says pointedly as you scowl, "Did you even eat?"
"Yes," you lie.
"An entré from two hours ago doesn't count," he deadpans.
You sigh before you're glaring at him through your drunken eyes.
Yoongi doesn't look mad. You don't think he's capable of being anything but the tempered person he was. Rather, he looks amused, as if your clear distaste for his assistance humoured him than annoyed him like any other person. But Yoongi wasn't like everyone else. You disliked people in general and you didn't like Yoongi.
And unfortunately for your stupid, puny heart, it was the exact opposite of what you felt.
"Come on," he urges you with an extended hand, "You got to eat."
"Who are you, my dad?" you groan.
Yoongi levels you with an unimpressed look before he's making an effort to wrap his palm around your arm himself. You shiver at the contact, distracting yourself from the way your heart stammers in your chest to shoot a menacing glare at the man before you.
"No, I'm your friend and I care about you," he says easily before he's bringing you up with him when he stands up.
You yelp, dizzy on your feet as you stumble into his chest. Yoongi already has his arms extended, prepared for your inebriated stance when his palms rest on your waist to balance you out. He's warm. Cosy like your favourite blanket while all you wanted to do was snuggle deeper into his embrace. But when you peer up at him and see his concerned stare, one that was undoubtedly platonic, you feel yourself scowling at the harsh reality check.
"Aren't you busy?" you sneer bitterly, cocking your head to the side from where you remembered him and Haerin engaged in a rather amorous discussion.
"With your sister?" he raises a brow, "Your father called her over."
You scoff.
Of course. The only reason he was here and the only reason he ever spoke to you was that your sister wasn't available. It was always as if you were the second option, a convenient emblem to gravitate towards when he couldn't get the real thing. It was a bitter thought, that you only ever knew of Yoongi because of Haerin.
You would never be anything more than what you currently were to him.
Yoongi was older than you, as old as your older sister and that meant you watched him graduate before you, get his drivers license before you, attend prom before you. All of the things that you considered milestones in your life. And the worst part was that he did it all with Haerin by his side. The proof of their blooming friendship was there in the pictures of her room, on her social media pages and the friendly relations that both your families had with each other.
You first met Yoongi after a particularly strenuous day in middle school. You were just getting to know the concept of teenage angst and responsibilities when you came back home, exhausted from the load of homework your teachers had assigned you right before your final exams.
Haerin was already at the dinner table at that time, caught up in her senior assignments while she typed away on her laptop.
That time, Yoongi appeared.
You remember stopping in your tracks when you spotted the new guest, dark fringe covering his forehead while a beanie rested on his head. He had a large hoodie on that covered his rather narrow build, but he was still taller than you and your sister. You didn't know who he was, but you weren't blind. He was gorgeous. The prettiest boy you've ever seen and you befriended enough band kids throughout your life at that point.
When Haerin notices you awkwardly hovering by the door, only does she offer you a small smile as a greeting.
"Hey." It's friendly enough, but when she looks over to Yoongi, then to you, you gulp. "This is Yoongi. We're working on a project together."
When Yoongi finally looks up, his eyes are warm and friendly, but they hold a rather cold edge to them. One that sends a shudder down your spine as you quickly blurt out an introduction of your own before you're scampering off to your room.
From then on, the rest was history.
You and Yoongi grew closer the more Haerin and his friendship bloomed. What started as a group project eventually blossomed into a friendship that they labelled as 'forever'. Yoongi was always kind to you, offered to drop you off places, gave you advice when you were the one dealing with senioritis; explained 'adult' concepts like taxes and insurance to you when you were curious; fixed the engine in your car for you when it failed you in the middle of nowhere, and he even was the one that accompanied you to get your wisdom teeth extracted.
Yoongi wasn't just Haerin's best friend, but yours too. The difference was that the two of them were clearly more than that while you were forced to watch.
So when you return back to reality, eyes slightly unfocused when they rest on Yoongi's face, you're disgruntled in the reminder of where you stood, and who you were to him.
"Of course," you say with an eye-roll before you're pushing yourself off of him, "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."
Yoongi frowns at your stubbornness, especially when your words don't ring true when you take a shaky step away from him, ready to establish distance. Your head still spins but you rather get away from everything when you were loose-lipped than have Yoongi hold his friendship with Haerin over your head like a silent victory.
"Clearly not," he sounds displeased when his hand wraps around your bicep to turn around, "You're drunk."
"And you're being annoying," you snap, "Just—go—back."
You emphasise your points by shoving your finger into his chest, and now when your rage clears your mind ever so slightly, you nearly groan at how devastatingly handsome he looks tonight.
Suits complimented Yoongi's physique beautifully. Especially ones where his dress shirt was tucked in his pants, paired with a silver-toned belt that cinched his waist. The goddamn YSL black blazer that drapes over his shoulder only makes him broader, and you curse the Gods above for making him frequent the gym more recently.
"Don't be stubborn," he sighs, tightening his grip on your bicep.
"Don't be pushy," you throw your words back, huffing while you scowl at him.
"You're drunk," he reminds you gruffly, "Your sister would kill me if I let you go off like this."
And there it was.
You shove his grip off you with as much force as you can as you seethe. Yoongi's eyes widen at your blatant display of strength, especially when your eyes are livid when they rest on his stunned expression.
"Of course you're doing this for Haerin," you scoff bitterly while Yoongi just looks confused. "Guess what, Yoongi? I don't want you doing shit for me because you feel obliged to my sister to take care of her little sister. I'm responsible for myself and not for this hero complex you have, or if you want to impress her. Go fuck yourself and leave me alone."
"What are you saying," he says levelly, unimpressed.
This is the first time you've seen Yoongi look rather ... displeased.
Sure, he's looked annoyed before. He was only human. But this expression on Yoongi looks nearly blazing, and if you were any soberer, you'd drop it. But you weren't, and your mouth moves at its own accord.
"What I'm saying is that you have your head so far up her ass that you don't see anything in front of you!" you exasperate, throwing your hands up in the air. You're mildly aware that your voice is rising and that a few other people were beginning to take notice of your developing argument with Yoongi.
"Listen, let me take you home and—"
You interrupt him with a deprecating laugh, mostly to yourself as you shake your head in disappointment.
"Are you stupid? Do you not know how to take no for an answer?" you ask in disbelief, and Yoongi actually glares at you at your clear jibe at him.
"____, don't test me," he warns.
You snort, waving him off just as you see Jungkook enter your peripheral. Your friend looks rather alarmed and he's making his way over in a hurry, but you're quick with your words.
"Ooh. I'm so scared," you pout, peering up at him through your eyelashes before you're rolling your eyes at Yoongi's stone-faced expression. "Fuck off, Yoongi. Go back to my sister because that's clearly where you belong."
"____—" you hear Jungkook approach you with worry, voice a pitched higher before he's attempting to intercept your and Yoongi's conversation.
"I can deal with it," Yoongi says bluntly.
"Hyung, she's drunk and she's not in her—"
"Oh, I know. But whatever she wants to say to me she can say it to my face," Yoongi laughs tightly before you're scoffing at him.
Jungkook looks panicked, eyes darting in-between the both of you as you find power in driving Yoongi up the wall. Especially when this is the first time you've ever seen him anything less than composed.
"Really? Let me start, then," you smile plastically.
"Do enlighten me," Yoongi blinks.
"Guys I think—"
"You're an annoying asshole," you sneer, poking his chest while your eyes stay trained on his unchanging expression. "You act like you care about me when all you really care about is making yourself look like a good man in front of my sister."
"You're drunk—!" Jungkook hisses, squeezing your shoulder in warning as you drunkenly shove his hand off of you.
Yoongi remains blank in his face and that only irks you even more.
"You always come in and rescue me when you think I need saving but you don't care if I get into trouble! You never do! All the shit you do is cause—cause you want to fuck my sister, want to be this big macho saviour—"
"Okay, that's enough," Jungkook snaps, clamping a mouth over your mouth as you thrash in his hold.
The look on Yoongi's face is menacing. Your eyes widen when you note that it's terrifying that he doesn't move an inch, not even when his eyes slowly drift onto Jungkook's figure attempting to silence your muffled shouts under his palm.
People are staring, but you couldn't care less. Not when Yoongi raises one lone brow that has you shuddering.
"Let her go, Jungkook."
Jungkook freezes, and you take that moment of weakness to bite his hand as he yelps and retreats his palm.
"Ha! See? You're trying to embody this alpha male character," you snort as you feel Jungkook melt helplessly behind you.
"Am I," Yoongi blinks, unamused.
"Duh," you say obviously before rolling your eyes. "You know what. Just fuck right out of here and leave me alone. Let me know if you get into my sister's pants for what you did to me, yeah?"
"Follow me."
Jungkook freezes. You freeze.
And it's all because Yoongi has never sounded like that before.
Like he's threatening you.
"W-What?" you stammer, eyes rapidly blinking.
"We're going to talk," he says calmly, taking a deep breath before he's turning on his feet.
His back is turned to you when you gawk at him. "W-What makes you think I'm going to listen to you?"
Yoongi stops for just a beat, hands stuffed in his pockets when the silence quite literally makes your throat dry.
"Because ..." he says in a low tone as you feel your breath hitch, "The shit I'm going to say and do to you isn't going to be in front of an audience."
He throws you a cold look over your shoulder as you nearly cower at his gaze alone.
When he strides forward, you feel compelled to follow. And you hate that your mind decides that you are.
When you turn to Jungkook, he's as pale as you are, but all he can offer is a weak pat to your shoulder.
"Good fucking luck."
Yes please!!!
OTHER HALF Masterlist
Pairing: Yoongi X Reader | Werewolf AU
Premise: Never having had much growing up, or someone to call your own, having to walk away from your true mate is a heart-wrenching trial in itself. Having to pick up your pieces and find your place again, your sense of feeling incomplete is challenged by an enigmatic wolf, Yoongi.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Taglist: @dejavante @ladyartemesia @veronawrites @xjoonchildx @ot7lonelylover @bansheehunteremissary @xius-exos @koalaswillpeeonyou @lyanalvarado @min-yus @sweettaeguk @girlinthemikrokosmos @afangirllikeme-blog @btsmylife21 @btsis7okay
(Ping me to be added here! )
andante cantabile || MYG x reader
pairing: myg x f!reader
genre: historical / regency au, fluff, smut in epilogue
chapter rating: 13+
wc: 10.4k
summary: You are convinced Mr. Min is nothing but a rude and gloomy man after he leaves a horrible first impression on you. His friends' attempts to convince you otherwise are met with mixed success.
warnings: pianist!yoongi, jane austen rip-off, enemies to lovers if you squint, slow burn, mention of parent death, jungkook is the reader’s younger brother, full ot7 as supporting cast
note: I’m finally crossposting to tumblr again! A little nervous, mostly excited 😊 It’s exactly two years ago that I first posted this story, and I’m still really proud of it. The writing style was a fun challenge, definitely a bit of an experiment but I hope you enjoy!
(Posted as a oneshot on ao3, split into smaller parts for tumblr. That does mean the first part has relatively more screentime for the supporting cast, but there is a lot of regency!Yoongi goodness coming up 💕)
masterlist: 1 | 2 | 3 | coda
“Jungkook.” With an urgent whisper, you shook your brother awake. “Kookie!”
Your little brother had been sound asleep, curled up in the sheets, but he stirred at your insistent poking of his cheek.
“Wh— what’s going on?” he asked groggily, trying to escape your prodding finger. The five-year old boy sat cross-legged on the bed, his mouth hanging open as he blinked tiredly at you.
“It’s a full moon, remember!” you said, jumping off the bed. You pulled back his heavy curtains with a dramatic flair, an effect somewhat ruined by the fact Jungkook’s window did not afford a view of the aforementioned moon.
His only response to your words a bleary stare, Jungkook looked on the brink of falling back to sleep.
Unacceptable!
Drawing yourself up to your full eight-year old height, you pulled Jungkook out of the bed and to the window. He yawned loudly, rubbing at his eyes as he dragged his feet.
“Come on,” you urged him, lifting him up to sit in the window sill, then clambered up yourself and undid the latch. “We have a ghost to catch!”
“Ghosts aren’t real,” he said, pouting at you. “Jimin told me so.”
You sniffed. “Jimin is only seven. Do you trust him over me?” The cool night air brushed against your bare arms as you opened the window and you suppressed a shiver, hastening to readjust your cloak.
Jungkook put his arms around his knees, nuzzling into the fabric of his nightgown. “No,” he finally admitted.
“Then let’s go!”
In the end, you never caught any ghost—though Jungkook did catch a terrible cold. Still, for a long time you insisted one haunted the orchard until the passing of years forced you to grow up and put an end to your nightly adventures, the full moon a beautiful sight but nothing more.
“Miss Jeon!” a voice called out across the meadow.
The wind almost caught your straw bonnet when you looked up from the field of yellow flowers. With one hand you clutched onto your hat, the other filled with the flowers you had picked. You smiled at the sight of Areum Kim, your neighbour and oldest friend. Though she did not always carry herself with the greatest sense of propriety, you could not fault her for that. Indeed, she was the one person in whom you failed to recognise it as a fault at all.
She hurried down the stone path to you, her sister-in-law in her wake.
“Areum, Mrs. Kim,” you said warmly, giving a small curtsy. “What brings you here?”
Doyeon Kim, a delicate woman with striking eyes, sent a teasing smile Areum’s way. “Seokjin received a letter from his cousin today,” she said.
“Oh, do let me tell,” Areum protested, clutching onto Doyeon’s arm. She turned to you without waiting for an answer, radiating excitement. “My cousin Namjoon bought a summer home right here in Southdon, and he is coming over next month! Not only that, but he’ll bring his brother and some friends from London. London!”
“Your cousin? That is wonderful news!” you said. You had met him once before at the wedding of Seokjin and Doyeon Kim, though his younger brother had been too sick to travel at the time. He’d been a handsome man, with smart manners and a dimpled smile that motivated you to keep him in high spirits.
Areum nodded with enthusiasm. “And you will finally meet Taehyungie! Your brother is almost of an age with him, I am sure they will get along most splendidly.”
Doyeon laughed, a bright sound she hid behind her hand. “I have yet to find the person Taehyung does not get along with. That being said, his temperament does seem like a good match for Mr. Jeon’s.”
“Then I look forward to the two making their acquaintance,” you said, always pleased to see your brother make new friends.
The month passed by with little happenings of note. An expectant vibration hung in the air of Southdon, anticipating the arrival of Namjoon Kim and his party; particularly the well-to-do bachelors from London he was rumoured to bring. While your hometown was not without society, the city of London always cast a spell of curiosity and marvel.
Your younger brother was particularly excited, eager for the opportunity to expand his social circle. Frequently you overheard him with your other neighbour, Jimin Park, crafting plans for activities they could undertake with the newcomers.
As for your father, he made sure to note their bachelor status, though he knew better than to press the subject. The generous condition of your family’s financial and social standing meant you did not want for attention from suitors, but it also provided you with the luxury to be quite selective about a potential husband. Jungkook had once horrified your father by suggesting you not be married at all and instead become the residential spinster of Aberton Hall, where Jungkook assured he’d provide anything his beloved sister desired.
Now, while your disposition towards marriage was not wholly unfavourable, Jungkook’s half-serious jests always put your mind at ease, erasing any pressure you might have felt. He enabled you to approach the subject strictly on your own terms, and for that you would always be grateful.
So you awaited the arrival of the much anticipated party with no frivolities clogging up your thoughts, no expectations begging to be dashed. Instead you merely enjoyed the prospect of reacquainting yourself with Namjoon Kim and the doubled efforts that society would put into their events this season. Already Areum gushed to anyone who would listen (or pretend to) about the preparations she was making for a ball to welcome her cousins. She only needed the slightest provocation to throw an event, and her brother tended to indulge her fancies.
It was when Jungkook and you were engaged in a friendly practise bout of fencing that a letter arrived—and quite timely as well, for your brother had been beating you quite handily. His skills with the foil were unparallelled in the county and so sparring with him always brought mixed feelings on your part; you appreciated the challenge, but hated to lose. As much as you enjoyed going up against your brother, there were only so many defeats your ego could bear.
Your mask tucked under your arm, you thanked the servant for bringing the letter. Jungkook wiped his forehead, skin shiny with perspiration, watching as you read the letter and took in its contents.
“Who is it from?” he asked once you had finished.
“Mr. Kim,” you said, gently folding up the paper with a smile that refused to be contained. “He has called upon us for dinner next week. His cousins will also be attending.”
Jungkook’s face brightened with obvious elation. “How fortunate! I have been pestering father to invite Mr. Namjoon Kim and his companions over as soon as possible, but he insisted they must be allowed to settle in peace.”
His fervour brought out a warm laugh from you. “Father has a point,” you conceded, “but we are lucky to have such a considerate neighbour. He is kind to include us while he must have plenty of catching up to do with his family.”
“Which they can do just as easily in our presence,” Jungkook said, resting his forearms on your shoulders as he leaned against your back. With an exaggerated flair you fell forward, pretending to buckle underneath your brother’s weight. He laughed and held onto you to keep you on your feet. “You must agree, do you not?” he said with the pleased confidence of a man already sure of the answer.
You put the letter aside and took up your foil once more. “It does not matter if I do,” you teased. “We have been invited, to refuse would be most rude. Now, let’s continue!”
“Are you certain? I would hate to wound your dignity even further,” he said, the grin on his lips saturated with mischievous pride.
“Oh, I doubt you would,” you said, putting your mask back on. “But you will have to beat me first!”
If there was one circumstance that allowed you a fair chance to beat your brother, it was when his confidence soared too high. You would not pass on this rare opportunity, too enticed by the lure of victory. Jungkook’s eyes glinted as he also donned his mask, rising to your bait. You slid into a proper stance and Jungkook did the same, carrying on your ‘friendly’ practise bout.
Once Namjoon Kim arrived in Southdon, taking residence in Bexlow House, it took no time at all for rumours to circulate about him and his companions.
Hoseok Jung and Yoongi Min stirred up dust in particular; a rich yet eccentric patron of the arts and the pianist he doted on. Apparently Mr. Min was making quite a name for himself in London (or so Park told you, whose aunt spoke of him in her letters) but he came from old money, leading you to suspect his growing fame might not be based on skill alone. Fortunately, Mr. Seokjin Kim’s invitation ensured you did not have to wait long for the opportunity to turn hearsay and speculation into solid fact.
You could not help but tease Jungkook for his palpable enthusiasm as the carriage rode you towards Mr. Kim’s estate, a shine to his boyish face. “I swear,” you said, “you are more excited about them than Mrs. Lee and her daughters.”
Unabashed, Jungkook grinned at you. “Of course! After all, we do not often have new faces around here.” He looked his best today, in a fitted tailcoat of deep burgundy and his dark brown hair parted with an artful tousle to reveal his forehead, while the narrow shape of his waist evidenced the presence of a corset.
“Of course,” you affirmed with a smile. Surely his eagerness had nothing to do with the deep admiration that Namjoon Kim had instilled in Jungkook when they previously met. Three years of age difference made quite an impact, and Jungkook had followed the older boy around like an imprinted duckling.
The past years had done little to temper Jungkook’s memory, his idolisation back in full force. But Namjoon Kim had also left quite a positive impression on you, so you could understand your brother’s feelings. You only hoped the man had aged well, saving Jungkook from bitter disappointment.
With Acton Field only two miles from your home, the carriage ride did not take long. You had a beautiful view of its apple grooves, a lush green after the trees already shed their flowers through spring.
“Mr. and Miss Jeon! Welcome!”
Seokjin Kim gave you a jovial greeting, a wide smile painted across his beautiful face. Your neighbour had always been an attractive man and years of a flourishing marriage had only increased his charms. Always a proper man of the house, he made introductions between the various parties.
Expectation lived up to reality; not only as handsome as you remembered, but the years had lent Namjoon Kim a maturity that suited him well. His younger brother Taehyung made a striking figure himself, with large eyes and an intense expression that bordered the line of intimidating, until a rectangular grin softened his face when Seokjin introduced him.
Perhaps the Kims’ elegance attracted company of equal refinement, you mused. Mr. Jung certainly matched them with his sharp jawline, the very picture of aristocratic dapperness. And then there was Mr. Min, whose dour expression could not diminish his delicate features. Skin pale as porcelain contrasted by dark hair and dark eyes that regarded his surroundings with a certain caution. Not the most charming of men, but undeniably fair to look upon.
Areum drew you into a conversation with her youngest cousin, pleased to finally have you meet him. You quickly came to understand the confidence she had in a friendship between him and Jungkook; he was an amicable sort, earnest and up-beat. You spared a glance at your brother, and concealed a sympathetic wince.
As personable as Jungkook was, he had never grown out of his shyness—a consequence of living in such a small and unchanging community, you suspected. You did wish your father had not kept you and Jungkook so sheltered, but you understood where his protectiveness came from.
Now Jungkook stood next to Mr. Jung and Mr. Namjoon Kim, a clear battle in his doe eyes. His instinct to disappear into the background clashing with the desire to speak with the man he so looked up to. Fortunately Jung proved talkative enough for three men combined, easily entertaining with tales of London.
Besides, Jungkook was not the only quiet one in the drawing room.
Mr. Min stood with Seokjin Kim and his wife, and while he politely answered their questions, he struck you as distinctly unhappy to be there. Mrs. Kim was the very embodiment of hospitality, her face lit up with a smile that ought to lift the spirits of any guest. Yet Min proved immune, eyes restless as they wandered around the room. Did he truly think the company so poor? Seokjin’s japes were not so horrible.
The rumours had led you to believe Mr. Jung was the eccentric one, but at least the man showed himself to be likable. You adjusted your expectations of Mr. Min’s skills on the pianoforte; for people to put up with his disposition he must be talented indeed.
“Don’t you think so, Miss Jeon?” Areum asked, interrupting your inner musings.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” you replied without missing a beat, effortlessly stepping back into the conversation. “There are some rich fishing waters on our grounds, I am sure my brother would love to take you.”
There, a seed planted to create a connection, you thought, satisfied at your efforts to help Jungkook. Taehyung responded positively to the idea, adding that Mr. Min was an avid fisher as well.
You smiled, but your lips were pressed together tightly. Concealing the dreadful impression Mr. Min had made on you, you smoothly proposed a group outing for the men. After all, Seokjin Kim would be distraught if left out.
You cast a furtive glance at Yoongi Min, but was startled to find his eyes already on you. With a sudden rush of embarrassment you dropped your gaze to the ground, annoyed at yourself for feeling caught when he was the one who had been staring.
Fortunately a servant announced dinner was ready, and the group left the drawing room to partake in the meal. Dinner opened with a serving of white soup and the atmosphere was easy; even Jungkook relaxed now there was food to distract him from his own inhibitions.
Once again Mr. Jung proved himself a natural entertainer, speaking of his exploits in London. “I truly believe it is the arts that bring meaning to people’s lives. That is why I became involved,” he said with a beautiful smile, a calm timbre weaving through his voice while he spoke seriously of his passion. “It gives a voice to our inner self, allowing us to speak of what we fail to put into words. Like the music of our Yoongi here!”
The musician in question stiffened at the mention of his name, then made a soft hum of acknowledgement and brought another spoonful of soup to his mouth, leaving his response at that. However, the group did not allow him to eat in silence, their interest drawn by Mr. Jung’s remark.
“How long have you played the pianoforte, Mr. Min?” Seokjin Kim asked. “Professionally, I mean.”
Min swallowed slowly, ducking his head down. His eyes were almost lost under his dark hair, which he wore longer than deemed fashionable. “Not long,” he said, glancing at Mr. Jung and not elaborating further.
With an easy chuckle, Hoseok Jung picked up the thread of conversation that Min had dropped so carelessly. “I had to convince my friend here to share his performances with the public! If not for me, he would still be locked up inside his house.”
“And perhaps happier for it,” Min said in a stony voice.
You and Areum locked eyes at once, though she was less successful at keeping her face neutral. But Jung burst out laughing, a loud cackle that sounded through the dining room and defused any negative effect Min’s brusque comment might have had on the evening’s ambiance.
In the corner of your eyes you noticed your brother, whose eagerness to contribute had been building for a while now, his nerves calming and smile broadening. You turned back to your soup, your own lips curling upwards as well, pleased to see Jungkook on the verge of opening up.
Your joy proved short-lived.
“My sister has some fair skill on the pianoforte herself,” he said, and the corners of your mouth dropped before you could catch yourself. “She plays quite wonderfully!”
Jungkook. Your doting brother, the staunchest of your supporters and biggest champion (unless it concerned fencing). Any other day you would have been endeared by his belief in your talents, even the nonexistent ones, but today you had to make an exception.
Your skills were acceptable, and that was the kindest word on the subject you could spare without risking yourself delusional. One of your failings as a lady, and one you were painfully aware of.
“Jungkook, you flatter me,” you said with a small laugh. “That is higher praise than I deserve.”
Your words were not enough to repair the damage and you felt the eyes burning into you. The local branch of the Kim family smiled at your humility, too polite to say the words themselves, especially since they knew Jungkook would not be happy with them for it. Only Areum dared a raised eyebrow of scepticism, but the gesture went unnoticed.
However, their cousins had no way of knowing your words were not a display of false modesty. Namjoon and Taehyung Kim gave you looks of curiosity, taking Jungkook’s praise at face-value. Even worse; Min’s glum expression broke for the first time, an inquisitive glimmer in his dark eyes as he studied you with renewed interest. Sitting directly opposite of you, his attention was an unpleasant weight.
But Mr. Jung trumped them all, offering the suggestion you most dreaded. “Well, I would be remiss if I did not hear a performance,” he said, a geniality to him that assured you his request was honest with no ill-intent. “Who knows, I may have to sweep you off to London!”
The audacious words sent a burning flush through your already heated skin, your laugh growing ever fainted. “I fear London is too bold a stage for my limited abilities,” you said. “Besides, surely no one is interested in an amateur’s efforts when we have a professional among us.”
You gestured towards Mr. Min, catching his gaze. Imploring him to save you from embarrassment, you poured a silent plea into your smile. He looked back at you, a feline quality to his eyes—though his current expression brought to mind a grumpy tomcat rather than any sleek elegance.
“By that logic I would rarely have the opportunity to hear the playing of others,” he said, sullen.
“Ah, of course,” you acknowledged, shoulders slumping. There was nothing more you could do except praying for the party to forget about this particular conversation by the time dinner finished.
A lull settled over the table, the subject closed by Min’s statement. You continued to eat your soup, attempting to savour the veal broth but your efforts came up short. Namjoon Kim gave you a curious look from the seat next to you, then his face softened in a sympathetic smile. “Miss Jeon, I see your father is not with us today. Is everything well? I was looking forward to meeting him again.”
The change of subject loosened the knot in your chest. “Sadly, our father had to leave urgently to distant relations in Antwerp,” you explained. Only two days ago he had departed, after a pressing letter from your grand uncle that he was needed.
“I hope there are no health issues?”
“No, thankfully. There is business to attend to,” you said. “Our grand uncle is deeply involved in the stock market. I do not understand all the finer aspects of it, but father intends to return before the end of summer. I’m sure he will have the opportunity to explain it himself, if you are interested.”
“In the meanwhile, I am left in charge of the estate,” Jungkook interjected, and you heard a mixed jumble of pride and resentment in his voice. As pleased as your brother was to be entrusted with this responsibility, you knew he yearned for the opportunity to travel. However, the indignation was only subtle, soothed by the presence of new people right here in Southdon.
Various members of the party made suitably impressed noises, and Taehyung Kim questioned Jungkook about the grounds, specifically the fishing waters you had mentioned to him earlier. Conversation picked up again around you, and you gave Namjoon Kim a silent look of thanks for his smooth intervention. A slight nod in return, and then his attention turned to the topic at hand; organising an outing together to test out those waters. Seokjin Kim showed the most blatant enthusiasm but even Min eased into a small smile, a reminder of his supposed interest in fishing.
Basking in the obvious happiness of your brother, you calmed down and almost forgot about the earlier incident. Though you could not let it slip from memory entirely, not with Mr. Min casting persistent glances your way (much to your displeasure). You distracted yourself by regaling Namjoon Kim with stories about the town.
He burst into a dimpled laugh as you narrated how a flock of chickens once upset the Sunday sermon, when they had somehow gotten into the church and one laid an egg right on the pastor’s bible, another building a nest in the man’s hair. A tale from many years ago, though perhaps you should not be as fond of the recollection as you were, proof of your misbehaviour during that time of your life.
Of course, you left out the part about who was responsible to Mr. Kim, but you suspected he knew anyway. Father always blamed the lack of a maternal presence for your period of rebellion, but in time you settled down and matured into a proper lady.
Dinner continued to the next course, with such enjoyable conversation around the table that you entirely forgot about the looming threat waiting for you.
Hoseok Jung, the self-proclaimed patron of the arts, had not.
As the servants took away the final plates he pinned you with a slow smile, sparing no mercy. In his defence, he did not seem aware of the fact that you required such a thing. “Miss Jeon! Is now the time for you to grace us with a song?”
With no means to decline without risking insult, you supposed it was. Though ‘grace’ would not be the word of your choice. You nodded in agreement and could only hope your smile did not show the strain behind it.
Ever the excellent host, Seokjin Kim led his guests back to the drawing room. Usually his wife would be the one who played to entertain guests; Doyeon was far more musically accomplished than you. She gently touched your arm as she passed by, though you did not know whether it was intended as encouragement or sympathy. Under other circumstances she may have tried to take your place, but both of you knew Jungkook would take heavy offence.
All too aware of the eyes on you, you took place behind the pianoforte. It was a beautiful instrument, purchased only last year as a gift to Doyeon from her husband. You rifled through the music sheets and quickly found a sonata by Haydn you felt reasonably confident of. The others spread through the room, making themselves comfortable on sofas or by the window or, in Min’s case, standing by the bookcase behind the pianoforte.
You felt a stab of unease at his presence behind you but ignored him best you could. Bolstered by the proud shine on Jungkook’s face, you pressed your fingers to the keys. You focused on the music, fooling yourself into believing your brother was the only other person in the room. When he listened he did not hear mistakes, only creative improvisations.
And today, you very much appreciated to be indulged.
Music filled the drawing room as you made your way through the movements, starting off with a brisk allegro. You needed a few measures to hit your stride, but by the time you reached the minuet you found a sliver of peace deep inside you and latched onto it. Then, the third and fourth movements followed easier than you had anticipated. Not your worst performance, you reflected as you returned to one final allegro, building to the last crescendo—and then it was done.
Your fingers hovered over the keys as the climactic notes faded in the air, and you took a deep breath before lifting your eyes from the paper to face your audience.
A polite applause greeted you. As predictable as ever, Jungkook beamed at you as though you had just given a spectacular concert, but what truly warmed your heart was the appreciative smile of Doyeon Kim, an acknowledgement of your efforts. The performance had been… acceptable.
“Mm.”
You froze at the sound from behind you, far closer than anticipated. Quickly you recovered, smoothing a hand over your high-waisted dress as you nodded at your audience in thanks.
“That was excellent!” Jungkook said, then turned to the man standing just behind you. “Mr. Min, what did you think?” He smiled expectantly at the professional pianist, clearly anticipating a raving review. Your smile was more rueful, sympathising with Min for being forced in a position where he, if not outright lie, at least had to tip-toe around the truth.
Mr. Min sucked in a breath and when your eyes locked, his dark gaze caused a swelling of vulnerability deep inside you, invasive and unwelcome. “Your left hand is not as quick as your right,” he said. “It would help to first practise with just your left until you’ve mastered the part, then play with both hands.”
Any relief you might have felt at making it through your performance unscathed was cruelly doused by the sharp chill of humiliation. Your neck burned with a cold heat, creeping further to your cheeks.
Silence fell in the drawing room.
Decorum broken, you stared at Mr. Min, incapable of ripping your eyes away. His brow furrowed until he broke the contact himself, turning his head to the side. “Of course,” he said stiffly, “otherwise you played well.”
In the corner of your vision you saw Jungkook, his chest puffing up and a dangerous intensity drawing over his face. Wordlessly you begged him to remain quiet and not cause a scene, but a saviour presented himself before Jungkook could formulate a response.
Seokjin Kim clapped his hands together and let out a buoyant laugh. “How about we enjoy a glass of port, gentlemen? Come, come,” he said, putting his hands firmly on Jungkook’s shoulder as he led the young man back to the dining room with clear deliberation. “Let the ladies catch up on their gossip!”
Perhaps you were mistaken, but Mr. Jung gave you an apologetic look as he followed the others. They left you with Mrs. and Miss Kim, who rushed to assure you of how well you played. But, you thought bitterly, only by your standards.
Not by Mr. Min’s.
“And did you know he has seen a hot air balloon ascension?” Jungkook said to whoever would listen. On this particular day, that meant you and Jimin Park. “Mr. Kim has been studying technical drawings of them as well. Is he not amazing!”
Park, Jungkook’s lifelong friend and neighbour, looked at him with an indulgent smile. His light brown hair shone in the soft sunlight that fell into the parlour, cheeks lifted into an affectionate grin. You could still see the shadow behind his face of the adorable boy you used to know, but there was no denying Park had grown up into a beautiful young man.
“I look forward to meeting him at Miss Kim’s ball,” Park said, and you caught a pinch of jealousy at tomorrow’s planned fishing expedition, though not explicit enough for Jungkook to notice.
A blunder on Park’s part; Jungkook was the host for this outing and well within his rights to invite others, something he would do happily if he thought Park was interested. But fishing had never been a passion of his, only partaking when Jungkook forcibly dragged him along. If anything, your brother would believe he was doing Park a favour by leaving him out.
You looked up from your book, quietly developing a strategy. “What a shame though, that is still two weeks from now,” you said carefully.
Park’s lips parted, frozen in a response, then curled up as he recognised your efforts. “A shame indeed. Only so many weeks in a summer, then they’ll be back in London.”
“And Taehyung Kim is of an age with you! It would be lovely if you had the opportunity to meet sooner.” You chanced a look at Jungkook and felt a surge of triumph at his expression.
Rubbing a fingertip at his temple, cogs turning behind his eyes. “Oh, Jimin! What if you join us tomorrow?” he said, a wide smile bursting across his face. “You do not care for fishing, I know, but the company will make up for it!”
“That is so thoughtful,” Park said sweetly. “I will gladly take you up on that offer.”
“I do have to warn you,” Jungkook said, his expression souring, “Min will also be joining us. I saw no way to exclude him.”
You would never admit it, but part of you was thankful for the bite to Jungkook’s voice—though another part of you was flustered at his protectiveness. It had been a humiliating experience, one you’d rather forget, and so far Mr. Min had made no efforts to make repairs. The other Londoners had been sociable enough; the Kims had joined you and your brother when you crossed paths on a morning walk and Mr. Jung had happily chatted with you after church. Meanwhile, Mr. Min had utterly ignored you.
It was enough to convince you he did not care about the effect his impropriety had on you, which spoke ill of his character indeed. You struggled to understand why Mr. Namjoon Kim and the others associated themselves with such a man, but perhaps they simply were kind to him for the sake of Mr. Jung or so impressed by his musical skills.
“That is fine,” Park said, his eyes twinkling. “I must admit, I have become rather curious about him.”
Jungkook sniffed dismissively and instead returned to the subject of Namjoon Kim and his many exploits.
Park stayed all through dinner and joined you for a round of cards afterwards. As always the stakes became somewhat heated, nobody willing to walk away the loser. Jungkook looked at his hand with an insufferable quirk to his lips, confidence glimmering in his eyes.
“I propose I deal the next round,” Park said tightly, lifting an elegant eyebrow.
Smile turning dangerous, Jungkook cocked his head. “What do you mean to imply?”
“Oh, I imply nothing!”
“Good,” Jungkook said, “because unlike some, I do not resort to foul play to win. I don’t have to.”
You peeked over your cards to watch their bickering, already formulating a plan on how to best use this to your advantage. The more they riled one another up, the better your odds at taking away the victory.
Park bristled at the accusation. “Years of friendship, and this is how you treat me?” he sputtered, eyes wide.
“He treats you in the way your game tactics call for,” you said, hiding a playful smile behind your cards.
Park gave you a stricken look that spoke of the deep stab of betrayal you had just inflicted on him. But before he had the chance to respond, you were interrupted by your steward.
“Mr. Jeon, I am sorry to bother you, but could I have a moment of your time?” he said, ever polite. Jungkook excused himself and let the steward pull him away. Your eyes followed them, wondering what was important enough that it could not wait. However, your steward did not look particularly alarmed which assuaged most of your worries.
When you turned back to Park he was smiling at you, all belligerence of the game faded away. “Thank you,” he said, “for your assistance earlier.”
You chuckled, putting down your cards. “You are very welcome. I could not resign you to a fate of not meeting the Kims and Mr. Jung until the ball.”
“Ah, the ball…” he mused, drawing his thumb over his lip as his eyes twinkled at you. “I do hope I still hold the right to your first dance even with these fascinating newcomers around.”
“Of course you do!” you assured with a laugh. “I would not have it any other way.”
“Good.” The way his smile transformed his eyes into crescents was almost enough to make you forget about his fraudulent tendencies while playing cards.
“It truly is a mystery to me!” you exclaimed, struggling to keep your composure.
Areum was all sympathy, patting the arm you had looped around hers while she accompanied you on your morning walk. The touch of soft cotton was a slim comfort, but it assured you at least one person remained on your side.
For just a few short days your brother staunchly supported your dislike of Mr. Min, to the point that it embarrassed you at times! But hindsight made you appreciative of even those moments, now that they were lost to you.
One outing of the gentlemen together and Jungkook had changed his mind on the matter entirely. One single outing! Ever since then he tried to persuade you of the man’s intelligence, of his sense of humour. The latter had you convinced this was all part of some elaborate joke Jungkook was playing on you, though you did not understand what his endgame might be.
“I do not wish to speak ill of your brother,” Areum said, on the cusp of speaking ill of your brother, “but perhaps he simply lacks a certain sensitivity. It is easy for men among themselves to forget the wrongs they have inflicted on us.”
You smiled at Areum’s loyalty; you knew how partial she was to your brother, but she did not hesitate to choose a side. “Or Jungkook is simply having a laugh with me,” you said. “If Mr. Min truly is the man described to me, he would have apologised for his behaviour, but he has not even deigned to deliver a letter.”
Areum let out a deep sigh. “Seokjin also spoke of his thoughtfulness, it is baffling. Perhaps Mr. Min is just the sort of man who only gets along with other gentlemen. Oh!”
Her face lit up as she spotted something in the distance. You followed her gaze and saw a trio approaching you through the fields by horse, and even from this distance they were easy to recognise.
Jungkook and his two companions all looked in high spirits as they drew near, laughing brightly. Perhaps it was because they were so close of an age, but the three had become quite taken with one another. Areum’s smile gained a smug edge, satisfied to know her prediction had come true.
As for you, the sight of them getting along so amicably warmed your heart. Jungkook had truly come out of his shell around the youngest Kim, his efforts rewarded with what would surely become a treasured friendship.
“Good morning, Miss Jeon, Areum!” Taehyung Kim was the first one to call out to you.
They came to a halt near you and Areum, each astride an impressive Thoroughbred; the pride of the Park family’s stables. Greetings were exchanged, and Jungkook enquired after the well-being of Areum. She launched into an animated explanation of her newest ideas for the supper to be served at her event, staring up at Jungkook with a brilliant smile.
You bit your lip to hold back your amusement, but failed when Park sighed. His eyebrow quirked up at you, then he chuckled and shook his head. He liked Areum well enough, but once she got started on any given topic… You hoped they had no pressing matters to attend to.
However, Jungkook clearly did not mind. He asked in depth about her meal plans, though his focus lay with her choice of meats.
Taehyung Kim observed the conversation with interest, his head cocked to the side. “Do you think there will be strawberries?” he mumbled, more to himself than anything else. Then he blinked, as though to snap himself back into reality, and turned to you. “Did you enjoy the mackerel, Miss Jeon?”
The sudden change of subject threw you, and you needed a moment to realise what he meant. “Oh! Yes, yes very much,” you said. Freshly caught and prepared by your skilled cook, it had made for a delicious meal.
“Min caught it, did you know?” he said, his smile proud as though he had been personally responsible.
But your smile turned sour. Ah. Min again. “Yes, Jungkook mentioned it.”
Kim beamed at you. “He caught two, while Jeon had no luck at all so he was generous enough to share.”
Was there some conspiracy afoot? Had the universe turned itself against you, when all around you everyone sung the praises of Yoongi Min’s kindness while he showed you none? “Yes, very generous of him,” you said with as much warmth as you could muster.
It seemed to satisfy Kim, and you quickly took advantage of a lull in the conversation to close off this particular topic. “Areum, I am starting to feel peckish,” you said gently. “Would you like to join me for breakfast back at the house?”
Areum hesitated but she recognised something in your expression and nodded in agreement. “Yes, of course. Gentlemen, we’ll leave you be,” she said with a light bow. Everyone said their goodbyes, then you parted ways with the trio. Areum was more than happy to continue her chatter about the ball preparations to you, and in turn you let yourself be distracted by her planning.
As agreed she joined you for breakfast and you savoured the light-hearted banter as much as the fresh apricot jam. But eventually it was time for her to return home and you sent her on her way, insisting she take your carriage.
And then, Aberton Hall suddenly was far too quiet.
With Jungkook still absent, you made your way to the drawing room. There was something you had been putting off these past few days, and you needed to confront it. You were childish to avoid it for so long, while you believed yourself to have outgrown that particular trait. So now it was time to deliver proof.
Inside the drawing room, the pianoforte waited for you.
The instrument stared you down, but you stared right back at its black-and-white keys. One deep breath, and you sat down on the stool, rolling your wrists and stretching your fingers to prepare them for practise. Face steeled with focus, you ran through your warm-up exercises.
Despite your lack of natural talent, you always found the routine calming, the habitual rhythms and passages a place of solace that emptied your mind of distractions and discomforts. And so you felt ready to continue onto the next step after you finished.
A familiar sonata rested on the music desk.
You refused to let one memory—one man—spoil your enjoyment of this piece. You refused!
Yet, your hands hesitated above the keys. His words, his criticism, topped off by his disingenuous compliment; the faint ghost of their memory sang through you. Your expression hardened and you took another deep breath, then placed only your left hand on the keys and began to play. A strange sense of spite had taken hold of you, as though mastery of this piece would somehow deflect your feelings of embarrassment back onto Mr. Min. That it would prove him wrong.
By the time Jungkook returned to the estate you were still practising, but he must have discerned your state of mind, for he uncharacteristically made no comment.
Finally, the day of the ball arrived.
Wanting to look your best for Areum’s event, you put in every effort. You wore a sheer gown of cotton gauze, a satin petticoat underneath. Aiming for fashionable simplicity, the dress was white with beautiful embroidery forming a delicate trimming of leaves, while a ribbon tied around the waistline brought an accent of Pomona green to the ensemble. Your high waist was contrasted by a low neckline, the occasion allowing for such exposure of skin. It showed off the necklace of small pearls you wore, a fond memento of your mother.
The maid helped you prepare, carefully fixing a pearl ornament in your hair that complimented the necklace, and she buttoned up your long evening gloves. Together you finished in good time, so in the end it was you who had to wait for Jungkook, struggling to decide on the manner to tie his cravat.
You took the carriage to Seokjin Kim’s country house; a ball was one of the few occasions you would bother to do so. Already a significant crowd had gathered, filling up the splendorous home, and Areum stood absolutely radiant in the center of it all, relishing her role as hostess.
“Miss Jeon!” she greeted you eagerly, taking your hands in her own. “I am so happy to see you, we will start the first dance soon. I would not have you miss it.”
At her words your eyes instinctively darted through the crowd for Park, though you could not find him at first glance. A string quartet played a lively tune, lifting up the ambiance even further, and you saw people making introductions and socialising.
Instead of Park, you found Mr. Namjoon Kim. He looked as smart as ever in a charcoal tailcoat with a green vest underneath. The dimples in his cheeks greeted you before he did as he disentangled himself from a conversation with Mrs. Lee and came over to you and Areum. “Miss Jeon, might I have the honour of your first dance?” he asked after a light bow, a cheery gleam to his eyes.
“Ah, Mr. Kim, I am afraid my first is spoken for,” you declined him with regret.
“Well then,” he said, “I shall have to wait for your second!”
You smiled at the ease of his recovery. “And I shall look forward to it,” you assured him, but let out a soft ‘oh’ when you finally located Jimin Park. Kim followed your line of sight and chuckled, then excused himself, presumably to find an available dance partner.
The bustle of people meant that Park needed some time to wade through them to reach you. Meanwhile you spotted the other newcomers, taking up much of the attention with people eager to be introduced to them. Hoseok Jung thrived in this environment, his smile brightening up the assembly room, but even he could not disperse the gloomy fog that surrounded Mr. Min, who shifted on his feet beside the sociable patron. Taehyung Kim had been captured by Mrs. Lee and her daughters, but appeared to handle the situation with grace.
Then Park stood in front of you, bowing while you curtsied, though he went through the formality with a playful slant to his lips. His eyes flickered to Areum, who strode to the center of the dance floor with Jung Hoseok by her side, then back to you.
“Are you ready, my lady?” Park winked, offering you his hand.
“For you? Never,” you teased, but allowed him to take you to the dance floor.
Other couples followed, including Seokjin Kim and his wife. Doyeon’s marital status meant she outranked Areum, but Areum’s position as hostess gave her the honour of leading the first dance. She could not have chosen a better partner; Mr. Jung proved to be one of the best dancers you ever had the pleasure of seeing. Effortlessly he glided over the floor, taking Areum with him in his wake. You and Park followed their lead, as did the other couples. The slow minuet allowed for conversation with relative ease, a fact you gladly took advantage of.
“It truly makes me happy to see you and Jungkook get along so well with Mr. Kim,” you said, moving gracefully through the sequence.
An accomplished dancer in his own right, Park accompanied you with poise and finesse. He smiled at your words. “Kim is a good man,” he said. “I’d say I was lucky to have met him, but then I’d be selling you short.”
You laughed in response. “And now you give me too much credit, Park! At the most I moved up your meeting by a few days.”
Though his smile stayed in place, something of the cheer faded from his eyes, leaving you to wonder what you had said wrong. He saw your confusion and sighed, shaking his head. A partner-switch temporarily broke you apart, but you kept your eyes on Park while you danced with Mr. Lee.
“I apologise,” he said once you were reunited. “It’s just… sometimes I forget you don’t call me by my given name any more.”
“No,” you said with a weak chuckle, no less confused, “not since we were little.”
Back when you were children. Back when Park took care of your brother even though he was only two years older; still a child himself but wanting to be there for the boy who lost his mother. Jungkook had been too young to truly understand what it all meant, but Park did.
You swallowed thickly, a sudden gratefulness swelling up from deep inside you.
And while your smile faltered, Park’s returned in full force. “I suppose I’m simply not used to your devotion to propriety these days.” He let out a soft giggle. “Not when I remember how you snuck frogs into my bed.”
“You deserved that,” you said pointedly, lifting your chin in a huff, but then you sighed, the breath filled with nostalgia. “I had to grow up sometime.”
“Hm,” he mused, “but at least you still remember how to hold a grudge. It is reassuring to know some things never change.”
The words came with a teasing lilt, but you could swear they physically struck you, causing you to almost trip when the dance called for another switch. Mr. Lee must have thought you a dreadful dance partner, so distracted by Park’s comment.
Was he implying you were too hard on Mr. Min? That you had to give him a second chance without any apology at all? You had not even spoken to the man since that first dinner together, a direct result of his avoidance of you.
Park was quick to see how his remark had affected you when you returned to his side. A rueful smile tugged at his lips and he squeezed your hand as you circled around each other. “Don’t pay me any mind,” he said. “Clearly I have turned into an old man already, sentimental about my wasted youth.”
You laughed at his dramatic statement. “Don’t even say that! You are younger than me,” you pointed out. “What does that make me then?”
“An elderly spinster,” he grinned, relishing your affronted gasp.
The moment of discomfort had passed, and you relaxed into the rest of the dance. When the song ended, it was with some reluctance that you and Park parted ways—until you remembered your promise to Namjoon Kim.
The gentleman waited with crinkled eyes as he smiled at you, and he led you into a faster paced reel. Joined by Jungkook and Areum, you laughed often as the dance took you through interlacing figures and sequences of complicated footwork.
As the dance ended, you were both elated and in desperate need of catching your breath. Mr. Kim brought you back into the crowd, where he left you with Doyeon and went to look for a new partner himself. She gave you a knowing smile; Doyeon had a talent for making you feel as though she was aware of your every secret.
“How are you tonight, Miss Jeon?”
You wondered how much Areum had relayed to her about your grievances, but when Doyeon’s gaze drifted over to the new figure approaching you, a meaningful look in her eyes, you wondered no longer.
Mr. Min joined you, though by the look of him you would think he was only here under threat of death. He hesitated, then bowed lightly. You and Doyeon curtsied in response, exchanging a glance when Min stood before you, chewing on the inside of his cheek and glancing off to the side.
Was he trying to swallow his pride, finally using this opportunity to make amends? You had been waiting for him to do so, of course, but surely this was not the right occasion?
“I hope you are well, Mr. Min,” Doyeon said, and you were grateful at least one of you still remembered her manners. The man truly unbalanced you.
“Ah, yes,” he said, his eyes flickering up for just a second. “Very well, thank you.”
“Don’t you think the music is excellent tonight? Areum worked hard to procure the services of this quartet,” she pressed on after a moment of clumsy silence. You couldn’t help but feel for her, trapped in the uncomfortable pressure between you and Mr. Min.
He nodded slowly, as though he needed a moment to process her words. “They are very good. Miss Kim should be proud of her efforts,” Min said, and finally his eyes met yours properly. For one brief moment, you were struck by the absurd notion he was about to ask you for a dance. Then he shook his head, and the moment passed. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kim, Miss Jeon, you have to excuse me.”
His departure as sudden and awkward as his entrance, Mr. Min was gone.
“What… what just happened?” you asked Doyeon, but almost immediately another abrupt arrival interrupted your conversation.
Mr. Jung swept in with a cheerful greeting, the unexpectedness of his appearance the only similarity to Min’s clumsy manners. “Miss Jeon, may I be so bold as to ask you for your next dance?”
Though he caught you off guard, you still agreed gladly; his opening dance with Areum made you eager to have him as your partner. He provided easy conversation until the next set began, while Seokjin Kim came over to invite his wife to a round of whist. You pitied their poor opponents, their combined skill at cards left not many who stood a chance to beat them. A lethal couple indeed. You had no time to consider them for long though, because Mr. Jung led you to the dance floor with a charming smile.
To your own surprise, you found yourself fighting off a spot of nerves. Until now you had only talked to Mr. Jung in a group setting, and his undivided attention proved to be intimidating. However, you liked to think your heart was not so faint, and thus you smiled back at him as you took position for the dance.
It all started so well.
Mr. Jung delivered to your every expectation, floating over the dance floor with a grace that seemed contagious. Just a light touch of his hand was enough to lead you through the sequences with confidence and you felt like you were dancing on a cloud.
“So, I noticed Yoongi came to talk to you,” Mr. Jung said, and the cloud rained away from underneath you.
“I am not certain ‘talk’ is the appropriate word.”
He hummed. “I do hope my friend has not continued to make a bad impression on you,” he said, his tone playful but a glimmer of solemnity behind his eyes. “I’m sure I speak for him when I assure you he meant no offence.”
It occurred to you that perhaps Jung only asked you to dance because he saw your exchange with Mr. Min. If anything, you had to admire his loyalty. You sighed, thinking back on Yoongi Min’s clear discomfort. Something resembling a pinch of sympathy edged at your thoughts and you sought him out in the crowd. You found him conversing with Namjoon Kim, near the tables set up for cards.
He looked placid now, clearly favouring Mr. Kim’s companionship over yours. Then the latter whispered something to him and Min broke out in a laugh, the smile transforming his face. It highlighted just how soft his features actually were, and even from this distance you saw a hint of his gums, the sight strangely endearing.
Your mood soured at once.
“Yoongi would not have answered your brother’s question so honestly unless he esteemed you,” Jung said, taking your continued silence as a signal to persist. He did not sound unkind.
But the damage had been done.
“I do not mean to discredit your insights of Mr. Min,” you said, bitterness clinging to your tongue, “but I am decently sure of his esteem for me, and it is none.”
The final drop had spilled. You had grown weary of people’s insistence to defend the qualities of Mr. Min. Qualities he surely had (to accuse so many of your friends and acquaintances of lying would be unseemly), but deigned not to show you. If everyone else spoke of his kindness, and everyone else was granted his good humours, then his problem lay with you and you could think of nothing you had done to wrong him.
In this moment, more than ever, you felt justified to hold onto your resentment of Mr. Min.
Clearly Mr. Jung sensed he should drop the issue, focusing on the dance instead. You regretted disagreeing so openly with him, but a sudden exhaustion took hold of you and it took all your concentration just to keep up with the steps. After the dance finished, Jung moved on and you had a quiet moment to consider your words. You sighed and smoothed out your dress, fighting the urge to bite your lip.
As loathe as you were to admit it, Park had the truth of it when he said you still knew how to hold a grudge.
The following morning you immediately wrote a thank you note to Areum, showing your gratitude for her hospitality as proper. A routine task, yet you found your thoughts so scattered that the letter took far longer to finish than expected. After finally closing the envelope and handing it over to a servant, you considered taking a walk to clear your head. Except the idea of being outside, where you could possibly encounter other people, it wrapped around your chest in a rigid tightness, constricting your breath like a poorly fitted corset.
After your dance Mr. Jung had left you in decidedly cooler spirits than he had approached you, and you felt the sting of embarrassment over your behaviour. At the very least you could have pretended to humour his attempt at bridging the gap between you and his friend.
You took a walk around the drawing room with your maid but it failed miserably as a distraction. You tried a book of poetry, but the text swam in your vision, reading words without ever comprehending them. For a moment you entertained the idea of seeking out Jungkook for a bout of fencing, but your desire to isolate yourself won out.
In the end you winded up behind the pianoforte, fingers brushing over the keys without pressing down.
You sighed, the irony not lost on you that the one activity you associated with Mr. Min provided your best chance of forgetting about him. And indeed, the comfortable routine of your warm-up practise helped you find a quiet space inside your head. By the time you had gone through them, you did not hesitate to go through Haydn’s sonata again, a test performance with both hands.
Diligently you had been practising with just your left, and though perhaps your own opinion was not the most impartial, you thought yourself much improved. The hours of rehearsal were paying themselves back; you would never be an effortless virtuoso, but your execution of the first two movements approached the level of a performance more than acceptable. Perhaps even decent.
To your frustration, you caught yourself blundering during the slower andante, little mistakes slipping past you as you struggled to coordinate your hands. With a deep sigh you stopped, gathered yourself, then returned to the part where your trouble began and went back to using only your left hand.
Patience, you told yourself. Patience was all you needed. Patience… or perhaps obstinacy. That was a trait you had plenty of, and its power had always gotten you very far. You played through the andante with deliberation, repeating every part where you faltered. But eventually you reached the end of the movement, finishing with a satisfied smile.
The piercing sound of a lonely applause suddenly rang through the drawing room.
You startled, but only for a second. This was not an uncommon occurrence; Jungkook enjoyed quietly slipping inside to listen to you play, unaware of an audience other than your personal attendant. “Jungkook, I didn’t hear you co—” you said as you turned around, then froze again when you saw not one, but two spectators.
Jungkook, as expected… and Mr. Min.
His dark eyes studied you carefully, something undecipherable in his gaze. If you were not careful you would be trapped by him, that you knew for certain. You quickly averted your eyes, your attention drawn to the envelope in his hand.
“You sounded great today,” Jungkook complimented, then patted Mr. Min on the shoulder. “Min has some business with you, so I will leave you be.”
Before you had the chance to think of an excuse to keep him in the room, Jungkook was gone. Fortunately your lady’s maid stayed in attendance, saving you from scandal, but even so you still felt abandoned.
Mr. Min cleared his throat, tugging at his cravat before he spoke.
“It is good to see you again, Miss Jeon,” he said with a light bow, awkward, and you quickly stood up to curtsy in return. “I’m afraid I created a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?”
He nodded, stepping further into the room until he hesitated and came to a halt.
“Oh, please sit!” you invited him, remembering your manners, but he shook his head and remained standing in the middle of the drawing room.
“I was, uh, I came here to deliver this letter but your brother insisted I talked to you in person,” Min said, scratching his cheek. “He is a very persuasive young man.”
Despite your discomfort, your smile was genuine. “That he is.”
“But what I am here for…” he said, then trailed off for a second, as though trying to arrange the words in his head. Clearly he had not expected to be speaking to you. “Hoseok led me to understand you believe I have no esteem for you.”
You winced, having not expected Mr. Jung to be so frank with Min about your conversation. “I apologise, I—”
The words slipped out before you fully realised what you were saying, and you would have been annoyed at the fact you were apologising to Mr. Min if not for the hand he held up to stop you. “No,” he said firmly. “I am the one who should apologise. I should never have spoken so bluntly to you at Mr. Kim’s.”
Your hands clutched at your dress, restless as you tried to process the situation. This was a good thing, was it not? Why the sudden knot in your stomach?
“Then I aggravated the situation by not making amends at once. I thought…” He hummed lowly, lips drawn in a tight line. “I thought it better to keep my distance from you, to spare—”
He interrupted himself, looking away for a moment, then met your eyes again with a steady gaze.
“No, that was not honest of me,” Min said, frowning. “I did think you would prefer to avoid my company, but I was also embarrassed by my mistake. I will not make excuses for that. So instead… I apologise for any hurt I have caused you, and wish you to know that I do, in fact, esteem you. Highly.”
His eyes flickered to your maid, who stood just behind you, as though only now remembering you were not actually alone. It took you a moment to realise he had finished speaking, waiting for your response, and you stammered clumsily.
“I— Thank you, Mr. Min,” you said, ducking your head. “I appreciate your visit, truly.”
The platitude was an inadequate response to his words, but you could not muster any more.
Mr. Min chewed the inside of his cheek, nodding as though you had said something more profound. “Thank you for hearing me out, Miss. I will leave you be,” he said, and began to turn away. Just as he stood at the door opening he paused, and looked at you over his shoulder with a pensive smile. “I hope this is not out of line, but you made some remarkable progress. Quite impressive.”
Then he was gone, leaving you to wonder just how long he and Jungkook had been listening to you play.
Something heavy weighed down on you, your hands digging into the fabric of your dress. You finally had the apology you so wanted, that you deserved.
So why did you feel so burdened?
It was not until much later that you realised he never gave you the letter.
→ pt. 2 💕
Coffee and Violets (SUGA) CH2 - Yoongi
(Yoongi POV)
Hoseok comes running into the flower shop, a bright smile plastered all over his face.
"I'm guessing it went well?" I say.
"It was great! She was amazing-, You have to talk to her!!"
"I'm glad you have a new friend, but don't drag me into this."
"I'm serious Yoongi! You'd really like her! Besides, she told me she was into writing! Didn't you say just a few days ago that you need help on the writing for your songs? You should talk to her! She writes stories but I'm sure she could help with lyrics too!" Hoseok beamed.
"Okay. Maybe tomorrow." I agreed.
"Yes! Let's go first thing tomorrow! I'll text her right-"
"No! Don't text her, I said maybe!"
————————————————————————————-
"Are you ready to go?" Hoseok asks excitedly.
"We're just going next door. It's not a big deal.." I say, butterflies building in my stomach.
We open the door to the cafe and go inside. Walking up to the counter, every step weighs me down. What if she doesn't like me? What if I say the wrong thing and make a fool of myself? What if-
"Hey it's you again!" She greets Hoseok, "Is this the friend you run the flower shop with?"
"Yeah!" Hoseok turns to me and motions to introduce myself.
"Ah-uh.., I'm Yoongi, and you are?" I ask.
"I'm Y/N! It's nice to meet you, Yoongi." Y/N says.
My name sounds sweet as sugar against her tongue. She looks like she's from a movie. I stare at her like she's just a screenshot. The light brushes through her hair and sparkles in her eyes. She looks pure, but like a thousand thoughts are swimming through her head. A thousand thoughts I'll never know. I pull myself away.
"Ah, shoot, I just remembered that technically our shop is still open and no one's there to watch it. I better get back, enjoy your conversation guys!" Hoseok blurted out before rushing out of the cafe, leaving me on my own.
I turn back to her and she smiles at me, "So, what inspired you to start a flower shop?" She asks.
"Ah, well, I guess it was kind of more Hoseok's thing. I did like the idea of incorporating new flowers into bouquets that you don't usually see. There are so many beautiful flowers and plants that just aren't given the same attention that some are. I think that maybe through this shop we can show people that."
"That's beautiful.." She whispered, "I wouldn't have expected that. That's really sweet."
She purses her lips and looks away, snapping me out of my fantasy. I turn and face the window, what can I ask her?
"Why did you start a cafe?"
She looks up to me and grins, "Actually, it's more just a side project. Or I can at least hope."
"Do you not like running the cafe?" I say.
"No, don't get me wrong, it's pleasant. I love the atmosphere, but it's not my dream." Her voice turns to a whisper as she ends her sentence.
(Y/N POV)
From what you've heard-and that isn't much-this guy doesn't get out a lot. You feel like on some level, you can connect to him. Are you, too, hiding? Maybe he's right. This cafe isn't your dream.
"Sorry if that question was too personal.., You don't have to answer if you aren't comfortable" He begins, worry evident in his voice.
You respond, "It wasn't too personal a question. It was a good question. I'm still trying to think of an answer."
"Oh okay, take your time" He exhales.
"To be honest with you? When I was younger I wanted to be a writer. I already told that much to Hoseok. However, when I was in like, I don't know, 4th grade maybe? We had this project where we had to write a story. I had so much fun crafting my characters and adding new plot twists. I showed it to all my friends and we named characters after each other, it was a lot of fun."
He leans against the counter, "What happened?"
"When I got my story back, the teacher had covered it in red pen. Grammar mistakes, spelling errors, but mainly comments. She kept saying things about how the plot was 'unrealistic' and I needed to make my story simpler. Reading through my classmates' stories, they had a much better flow. I guess that's when I sort of lost my confidence."
He pauses for a moment, "...can I read some of your writing?"
"No, no.. it's really not good. I haven't even got anything published yet. You don't-"
"I want to read it." He states.
You sigh and head to the back room, grabbing a notebook from your bag. Opening up to a page, you say, "It's not edited or anything so it might be bad.., just stop reading if it's too terrible."
He doesn't listen, and instead scans over the page, reading your newest work. It's been so long since you've had anyone read your work, all you can do is stare at the ground in silent panic.
When he finishes the short story, he looks up at you with a bright smile, "What are you talking about? This is so good! It was really engaging and your characters are so unique. I want to read more of your work, in fact, if it's not too straightforward.., could I ask a favor of you?"
You freeze in shock, He... liked it? You begin to respond, "What is it?"
"Well, I've been working on some new music lately and could really use some help. Would you mind taking a look at it?" He asks.
You agree. He smiles, "Would you mind coming over tomorrow then?"
"Sure! I'll come."
"Ah, I guess I should give you my number then,.."
Author Note:
Hello everybody!! How are you today? I'm working on so many stories right now but please stick with me! I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. Also a very happy birthday to my bias, J-HOPE!!! 💕🐿️☀️
Coffee and Violets (SUGA) CH6 - Spilled Milk
[Warning: One swear word!!! :(]
(Yoongi POV)
I bite my pen in frustration. Hoseok comes in as I close my lyric book.
"What's wrong? Writer's block again?"
"Worse. I can't stop writing." I reply.
Hoseok shuffles over to where I sit, "How's that a problem?"
"I just started writing and it just started being about her"
He glances over the lyrics, "These are good. You should use these in your next song"
"No!" i slam the book shut again, "If I do, then she'll know how I feel!"
"And..?"
"C'mon Hoseok, she doesn't feel the same. She doesn't want me." I sigh.
"I don't thin-"
"Yoongi!" A girl yells, walking into the storage room, "I haven't seen you in forever!"
"Minsoo?" Hoseok asks.
Minsoo walks over to where we're sitting.
"What's that?" She asks, grabbing at my lyric book.
"Nothing!" I pull it away and hide it behind my back.
Sensing the awkwardness in the room, Hoseok tries to lighten things up.
"Minsoo! I haven't seen you since, what, high school? How've you been?"
"I've been so good! I've missed you guys though. Especially you, Yoongi" She passes a smirk my way.
The memories come flooding back. She was Hoseok's friend, and always was trying to get close to me. She asked me out several times, never quite getting the point. She would always bully others, putting them down to lift herself up. I had hoped she grew kinder since then, but apparently not.
"Sooo," She taps her acrylic nails against the table, "Do you guys want to go hang out? I heard the coffee shop next door is good."
"Actually, I'm sorry but I can't" Hoseok states, "I have to work the counter. We also have an important shipment coming in later today, but Yoongi can go!"
"No no no!" I whisper to him, "I'll watch the shop. You can catch up with her or something! Don't make me go!"
"Yoongi, you never watch the counter. Besides, the shipment is under my name and they need me to sign for it. Just entertain her for a bit."
"But don't you remember how she treated me in high school? I don't wanna go through that again!" I sneer.
"I'm sorry, Yoongi." He says before flashing a grin to her and leaving.
We walk over to the coffee shop, me dreading the entire thing. When we walk in, everything blurs as Y/N's smile greets me. Looking to my side, it falters for a moment before returning to me.
"Hi, what can I get you today, Yoongi?"
"Oh, you know him?" Minsoo jeers.
"y-yeah. Well, kind of." Y/N stutters. Cute.
We place our orders and head to a table, Minsoo practically clinging to my arm.
(Your POV)
I watch as Yoongi and that girl walk to a table. She's hugging his arm the whole way. when they sit down, his back is to me and all I can see is the glares she sends my way.
I try to focus on making their drinks, but my hands are shaking a bit the whole time. Focus, Y/N! You knew you weren't his type! you knew he probably had someone better! you knew not to get attached, so there is no reason to feel heartbroken now.
I call out their drinks, her name is bitter on my tongue. As I hand it over to her, I accidentally drop it. The lid falls and her coffee spills all over the ground and her heels.
"Oh...my... god." She yells.
"I-I'm so sorry, I'll remake that immediately, It was just an accident" I apologize as I try to clean the spill.
"You should be sorry. We are leaving right. now." She says, "You can't even get a little coffee order right, can you? People like you don't even deserve to know people like Yoongi"
He surely can't hear her over the loud pop music playing. The music you were going to change together. The music that I'll probably never hear now. Without another jab at me, she grabs onto Yoongi and drags him out of the shop.
(Yoongi POV)
"Why are we leaving?" I ask.
"That bitch spilled the coffee all over my new shoes, so I gave her a piece of my mind."
"You what?" I rage.
"I just told her the truth. You shouldn't be friends with someone like her, Yoongi. You can do better." She elaborated, "In fact, I'm still open if you want to-"
I run off back to the cafe. Which wasn't too far, seeing as Minsoo had managed to drag me just a block away. When I get there, I pull the door open. Except I can't. Because it's locked.
"What the..." I mumble.
Looking up, I see the sign on the door reading closed.
"Damn it!" I yell.
I try to open my phone to call her and apologize, but just my luck, the battery's dead. Going next door into my store, I try to find Hoseok.
Fluttering on the counter is a bright yellow sticky note:
Hi Yoongi!
There was an issue with the shipment so I had to go to the warehouse to confirm things. I'll be back soon! Don't miss me too much
-Hobi
"Ugh!" I wail. How can this get any worse? I made a mistake and I can't even fix it. Now she probably hates me and I've already lost the one person that makes me feel this way.
I've lost the only girl I've ever loved.