#also the softest coffee shop aus | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

runariya · 4 months ago

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One-Shot: A Sip Of Eternity (JJK)

pairing: vampire!Jungkook x f!reader genre: vampire!AU, coffee shop!AU, yandere-ish? idrk warnings: foul language, obsession, mentions of blood and ripped out organs, death, hunger, feeding off humans and animals, throwing up, Jungkook doesn't know what hit him, reader is sus, allusion of abuse, lmk if I forgot something word count: ~ 4.370

a/n: okay...I know I said I'm taking a break from writing while mini-me and I are down with sickness BUT hear me out....those fever dreams...uffff👀....I just had to write it down somehow. It's not edited and I think it's a bit jumbled up at places-sorry for that. I'll think about rewriting it, when I'm at full capacity again. Until then, have fun reading👀

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

🎵K.Flay - High Enough🎵 Do you see anyone other than me? Baby, please I'll take a hit of whatever you got Maybe two, maybe three Oh, you're phenomenal, feel like a domino, fall to my knees I am a malady, you are my galaxy, my sweet relief, oh, oh, oh

Thursday morning

It has been 811 years, 296 days, 13 hours, and 49 minutes since he was turned. 811 years, 296 days, 13 hours, and 49 minutes far too long, too boring, too repetitive. Jungkook has seen it all. He’s done it all. But this little human right in front of him? No, you’re new. Exciting, even.

He’s been the chief of this city for half his immortal life, running a cafe for his kind, invisible to anyone else.

So why on earth did a human find its way in here? And why do you smell so, so delicious?

“Back off or you’re dead” Jungkook growls in his head. The other vampires stop immediately, no longer ready to pounce. Knowing they don’t stand a chance against him, they only watch.

“Hello,” you say shyly, with the softest smile he’s ever seen.

“Good morning.” He scans your hands, looking for a wedding band, but your fingers are empty. “Miss.”

You flush, your heartbeat picking up. You’re cute, he thinks. So innocent.

“I said back the fuck off!” His voice booms, snapping the other vampires out of their trance. “What can I get you?”

“I’m new here…I mean in town…and here at this coffee shop, obviously…so…ehm…could you…if it’s not a bother…recommend something?” You stutter, your heartbeat now through the roof. Calm down, he thinks.

“Sure. The crimson latte is the most popular.” Of course, it is; it’s full of blood.

“That sounds fancy.” You cringe. “I’d like one, please.” Your voice is so soft, like a feather drifting in the breeze.

“Coming right up.” Jungkook turns to the coffee machine. “Okay, listen here, you little shits. If anyone in this godforsaken city even looks her way, they’re getting staked. You hear me? Spread the news. This little human is mine.”

A chorus of acceptance of his command echoes in his mind. Looking over his shoulder, he sees you looking around, oblivious. You’re wearing a summer dress, its colour making your skin glow. Your hair is beautifully styled, and your makeup matches your style so effortlessly it’s making him a little breathless. Or maybe it’s your quick pulse; he isn’t sure.

Just as he reaches for the blood on the counter, his fingers halt. Idiot, he reprimands himself. Shaking his head lightly, he takes the strawberry syrup and pours it into your coffee. This will do, he thinks.

Turning around, he falters, seeing your blinding smile. Your eyes sparkle like the tutus he sees little girls wear.

You look so sweet. Would you taste the same? But he won’t do anything. Your poor, precious soul shouldn’t be harmed.

“Here you go, enjoy.” He says, and when your fingers brush his, he feels a jolt. Retreating his fingers instantly, he looks at you with wide eyes.

You’re also startled by his reaction, your eyes wide and full of apology as if he was repulsed by you, which is not true.

“Sorry…how much do I owe you?” Your voice is like tiny bells to his ears.

“No worries. It’s on the house.” Jungkook wants so badly to reassure you, to smile, but all he manages is a twitch of his lips.

Your gaze drops down to his lips, and he’s impressed and elated you noticed his attempt at smiling. When your breathtaking smile reappears on your lush lips, his dead heart sings. Or is it his thirst?

It doesn’t matter. Because when you leave, he’s sure he’ll never see you again.

Friday Evening

Jungkook can smell you before he turns. Why are you back again? He thought it was a coincidence you could enter yesterday. An error in the spell protecting his shop from human eyes. But two days in a row seems troubling.

“Hobi, go out, find a human and bring it before the shop. See if it sees us.”

“Yes, JK.”

You’re now standing directly behind him, the counter separating you both. You’re not even a minute into his shop, and your scent has overpowered every molecule in the air. His thirst burns in his throat. He needs to hunt tonight. Damn you. If it weren’t for your delicious blood, he would have held on for a week more.

Jungkook takes a deep breath to ground himself, but it’s the worst decision of his dead life. Your scent now clings not only to his skin but to every cell of his.

Nonetheless, he turns around. But now he’s not sure anymore if it’s your scent or the sight of you that’s more compelling.

Dressed in another flowy summer dress, you look like a goddess. A human goddess, he corrects himself.

“Hello again.” Your smile blinds him, and even though it’s as bright as the sun, it doesn’t burn him. Or does it? Because he feels excruciatingly helpless.

What should he say? What did you say? What time of day is it even? He’s not sure. He’s also not sure who he is. No, that’s a lie. He knows who he is. He’s a vampire, an old vampire. But why does he feel so basic beside you?

“Hello.” He hears the snorts of the other patrons in his head, and they all get a glare in return.

You turn around briefly, then look at him questioningly.

“The usual?” He needs to distract you.

“Oh. Yes, sure! This strawberry latte was soooo delicious. The best coffee I ever had. You must have magic hands or something. Really, when I finished it, I thought, ‘Wow, you need one more.’ And then I thought…” You trail off again, face flushing, heartbeat accelerating as if hunted down, but your eyes turn sad, and you stare at the counter. “Sorry.” Despite his inhuman hearing, he needs to strain to hear your whispered apology.

“I’m glad you liked it.” What’s wrong with him? Why is he consoling you? Argh, you’re so pathetic, Jeon. Whatever.

Jungkook turns around in a rush, starting to prepare your coffee. Your heartbeat now slows down second by second. And it’s nearly at normal when he pours the strawberry syrup in it.

Just as he’s nearly finished, your heart rate rises in panic. He turns around at that, seeing you take a step back from the counter. But you’re looking to your left. And as he follows your view, he sees why.

“Pete.” Jungkook’s voice is grave. Said man startles and looks him in the eyes, like a child caught doing something it shouldn’t. “Sit the fuck down.” And down he sits.

When Jungkook turns back to you, you look at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly open. But it’s not fear he sees in your eyes but pure admiration and respect.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t just now push his chest up a little more. And he would be lying if he said he felt more powerful than he does now.

He steps to the counter, this time placing your not-so-crimson latte on it. Again, your smile and gratitude throw him for a loop he can’t understand.

When you leave with a wave and the door falls shut, he takes off his apron and turns to Pete. A terrified Pete.

“Get up. Follow me.”

And both disappear through the back door, Jungkook the only one with a blood-dripping heart in his equally bloody hand coming back.

Monday Morning

The weekend was horrible. No, it was more than that. If there was a word for the hell he went through, Jungkook would send a thank you note to whoever invented it.

Friday night, Jungkook was starving, so he went for his hunt. At first everything went smoothly, as always; he lured a poor soul in, took a bite, but then everything went downhill. The blood tasted foul.

Thick like tar, bitter like coffee grounds—he threw the sip of blood up in an instant, coughing violently while pushing the human away. He couldn’t help but heave like a cat trying to throw up a hairball.

Saturday night, the same thing happened. Lure, bite, puke.

And guess what? Surprise, surprise, Sunday night was the same again.

So, when Monday morning came, and with it your positive, content, chipper self with your savory, inviting, toothsome blood—oh boy, Jungkook wanted to cry like a baby.

To suppress the growing hunger, he starts counting the seconds, but when you stand before him, and he knows you’d never have a chance if he wanted to taste you, he’s done.

So done that he starts smiling at you.

No, not a friendly "hey there"-smile. A grimace more fitting on the face of a psychopath. But where’s the difference between him and a psychopath, really?

You beam at him regardless, not phased at all. “Hey! Your smile suits you! Your teeth are so nice!”

Jungkook malfunctions at that. His face falls, and he rolls his tongue over his teeth as discreet as he can. Did he show his fangs by accident? No. Hm.

“Thank...you...?” He questions you more than really being grateful for the compliment.

“I’d like the usual, please.” The wide, happy smile just doesn’t leave your face.

He’s only able to nod, and again like routine, turning around and doing his job. Your scent makes his hands shake uncontrollably. He’s starving, his stomach squeezing uncomfortably. He waits a moment so he’s able to continue.

“She’s checking out your butt,” Hobi giggles.

“Shut up.” But he can’t help but flex his buttocks and thighs on purpose while shifting from one foot to the other. He stops abruptly, realizing his doings. Why is he like this? He sobs internally, this isn’t him.

Jungkook again starts counting the seconds, willing his hands to stop shaking again, but this time he just can’t.

When he looks over his shoulder, he catches you indeed checking out his butt. Your eyes snap up, locking with his. You’re clearly embarrassed, and your little heart starts pounding violently. No, please don’t.

He forces his eyes back to the coffee. It takes all his willpower to take the cup and hand it to you without spilling its contents.

You thank him, as always, with a smile more soothing than any high he’s ever experienced.

“See you tomorrow.” Your airy voice wraps around him, squeezing his airways tighter.

“Bye,” Jungkook presses out, barely able to gulp the saliva collecting in his mouth.

The air in the coffee shop turns still with your departure, and he’s finally able to breathe normally again.

Tuesday Morning

This time he sees you outside his shop through the windows. You’re looking up at the sign and with that your face lights up.

You enter, and Jungkook is already on edge. The way you navigate his shop, as if it’s a normal coffee place, unnerves him to the core. How do you keep finding this place?

“Hobi, did you check the spell again?”

“Yes, JK. It’s still intact.”

Your presence disrupts his thoughts again. His body reacts the same way it does every time you’re near: adrenaline courses through his veins, making his hands shaky and his hunger rise exponentially.

You approach the counter, your scent now a familiar, maddening presence.

“Good morning...” Your soft voice trails off, and he finds himself leaning closer to hear you better.

“I'm Jungkook. Hello.” He feels foolishly pleased at how natural his voice sounds while his insides are on panic mode. “The usual?”

“Yes, please. Your strawberry latte is the highlight of my day.”

He turns with a nod and prepares your drink. His dead heart stirs, and he chides himself for being affected by your words and presence. He’s a vampire, the vamp-chief of the city, not some lovesick human.

Wait. Stop. What? He’s not lovesick.

When he places the drink before you after he’s finished, your smile is radiant. “Thank you.”

He watches shocked as you find a seat, not leaving like the days before. His eyes narrow at any vampire who dares look your way. You are his. No one else must interfere.

And it’s 52 minutes later when you leave with a wave his way. But who’s counting?

Wednesday evening

Yesterday he tried to feed off of animals. It went as horrible as he expected. And when you didn’t show up today, he didn’t know if he’s euphoric from the break from you or dejected because you need a break from him.

So when the door chimes this evening, and there you are again, he doesn’t know how to feel nor react. Jungkook’s throat burns in an instant, his thirst intensifying to infinity. He considers closing the shop early, but your smile as you approach the counter makes him change his mind.

“Hi, Jungkook.” Your cheerfulness is infectious, despite his inner turmoil.

“Hi. The usual?”

“Yes, thank you.” You lean in closer, and he catches your scent full force. It’s torture and pleasure combined. Oh, what a beautiful drug you seem to be to him.

As he prepares your drink, he overhears a couple of vampires discussing you. His glare silences them instantly. No one must threaten you. Not while he’s here.

“Today’s been so busy, I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. Oh, what am I saying? I’m not your only customer. You’re clearly busy all day and probably didn’t even notice I wasn’t here.” You’re so cute, he wants to eat you. Literally.

“I’ve noticed” Your eyes meet his as he hands you the latte, and for a moment, he forgets to breathe. He can see your racing heart, all the veins zeroed into his sight. Your blood is being pumped furiously through your whole system. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Anytime…” His voice is softer than intended, startling him to the core. He needs to fucking feed.

You say your name in the lightest voice he has ever heard in all his centuries, and he thinks he might faint for some inexplicable reason.

After you've left, he's seconds away from murder when Hobi, sipping his actual crimson latte by the window, teases, “You’re so whipped.”

Monday Morning - One Week Later

Okay. So. You haven’t shown up since Wednesday evening.

By Friday, Jungkook ordered his subordinates to comb through the whole city to search for you and make sure you were fine. They came back empty-handed.

So, on Saturday, he did it himself.

On the positive side, he could feed on some stray cats. It still tasted like shit, but he managed to suppress the gag reflex.

On the negative side, he didn’t find you. Your scent is unique to him; he's sure he could find it in the middle of an overcrowded stadium, but for some unknown reason, he couldn’t trace it at all.

Thinking it had to do with the nauseating taste of the cats, he searched the rest of the weekend. Every corner, every nook of this shit hole of a city, but it was as if you had disappeared into thin air.

To say he’s surprised to see you enter his shop this morning would be an understatement.

You look drained. The colour and brightness he’s used to seeing you radiate are dull. Your face is sunken in, and your eyes lack their usual sparkle.

“Good morning, Jungkook.” Your voice sounds hoarse, void of the warmth he learned to yearn for in your absence.

“Where were you?” He didn’t mean for his voice to come out this grave, and he winces internally when you look startled and take a step back. “Sorry…”

“I... I needed to go back to... to my hometown for a couple of days. I…” Your pupils tremble, and Jungkook isn’t sure if you’re scared of him or what happened in your hometown. “I forgot some important stuff there... and... it was hard to come back here.”

You’re a riddle. He just can’t figure you out. But the person he sees before him isn’t the girl he got to know. Yes, he doesn’t know much about you, but he knows that this isn’t you—this is a shadow of who you can be.

“You’re regretting coming back?” He needs to know if your state is due to leaving your hometown or leaving this city.

So, when your eyes shine with a silver lining on your lower lash line, and your voice breaks in a barely audible hush saying, “No,” he knows he’s going to take matters into his own hands.

“Good you’re back then.” He stares into your eyes, a flicker of warmth returning at his words. “The usual?” A tiny nod from you is answer enough for him to prepare your latte.

“You heard her. Find this hometown and figure out what happened.” At that, three vampires rise from their seats and are gone within seconds as you look on curiously.

“Jungkook?” His hand halts mid-air as he’s just about to reach for the strawberry syrup, your small voice blaring in his every fibre.

He doesn’t move when you whisper, your voice oh so fragile, “Thank you.”

He stares at his hand, which still hovers mid-air. What should he do? What would be appropriate human behaviour? He doesn’t know anymore. He’s too far gone to know that after centuries of being this emotionless creature. But is he really that emotionless when his dead heart seems to stir since he met you? He isn’t sure anymore.

Nodding once, he hopes it suffices. And when he’s done with your cup and turns around, he knows it did. Because the small smile and gentle sparkle in your eyes are something he seems to reciprocate without wanting to.

“You’re an angel, thank you.” Both your hands gently take the cup out of his large one, brushing them so feathery and warm that it isn’t a jolt that runs through Jungkook’s body but a sparkle as bright and soothing as the light in your eyes when you gaze at him.

Tuesday Morning

When you enter today, you’re wearing cozy loungewear and carrying a book in one hand.

So adorable.

So when you step towards the counter, Jungkook can’t help but lean on it with his elbows to be closer to you. He takes a deep breath of your scent and he’s high again. Even though it amplifies his hunger, your scent has become his drug, and he can’t resist it anymore.

“Good morning, ___,” he hears himself purr, and when a chorus of laughs echoes in his mind, he really couldn’t care less. Because in his vision, there’s only you. He wonders, do you see anyone other than him, too?

“Hey, Jungkook. Lovely morning, isn’t it?” you chirp, now standing so close he can almost taste your blood on his tongue. The pulse at your neck calls his name.

“It’s quite buzzing,” he husks. If only you knew that it’s you who has him all buzzed. If he could just have a little taste...

“Is it okay if I stay in today? I’m off of work and it’s getting so lonely at my apartment…” You bat your eyelashes at him, and those tiny waves of air drifting into his face nearly make him fall to his knees.

“Of course.” He licks his lips, imagining the taste of you on them.

You look down at the motion. “Good,” you husk back, equally drunk on him, it seems.

“The usual?” Jungkook straightens, no longer able to be this close to you. A flash of disappointment washes over your face and he sees you retreating into yourself even more.

“Yes, please,” you say rather sadly, staring at the counter separating you.

As he pours the coffee into your cup, the door chimes.

“JK, we found out what happened,” one says breathlessly.

When he turns briefly, you look at the three vampires skeptically. All three are standing in the middle of the room, staring at Jungkook without saying a word.

“Hey guys, take your seats, I’ll be there in a minute.” Jungkook glares over your head at them. They seem to get the message and do as he says.

“Next time make it more obvious, will you?” The irritation oozes off him and he finishes your latte with more force than necessary.

When he turns around and sees you, still so innocently looking into his eyes as if he were a hero just for existing, his irritation vanishes instantly.

“Here you go, beautiful.” WHY DID HE SAY THAT?!

Your heart stops, then you turn as red as the blood in your veins, and your heartbeat hums as fast as a hummingbird’s. Please don’t die...

“Thank you.” You take your cup with shaky hands and stumble slightly to a free nook, sitting down and staring at the cover of your book until he hears your heart go back to normal.

He walks over to the three vampires who investigated what happened to you, and when they tell him what your uncle did to you again and again, he unleashes the beast he’s known for.

Hushed as the whole conversation, he orders with a sinister smile, “Go kill him and everyone who knew and didn’t do shit.”

The rest of the day he spends watching over you, bringing you more lattes on the house, and using every opportunity to stand near you.

At midday, you ask if he serves anything to eat, and even though he knows he doesn’t—well, for humans he doesn’t—he says he’ll bring you some pastry.

“Go to the bakery at the other end of the city and bring some cake as fast as you can,” he orders Hobi, who chuckles and shakes his head but goes immediately.

He’s back in a couple of seconds.

As Jungkook serves you the cake as if it were his, you thank him profoundly. “You take such good care of me.”

If he had blood running through his veins, he would blush. So he flees to the backroom to shred the packaging, destroying all evidence of his care for you.

Wednesday Morning

You enter the coffee shop again, wearing a beautiful dress, but your gaze is fixed on the phone you're clutching in your hand.

Like a puppet on autopilot, you stand before Jungkook, not once looking up.

"The usual, please."

Jungkook doesn't like this. Why aren't you looking at him? What's with you?

Did something happen again? "Are you alright?"

At that, you finally look up, startled like prey facing a predator. You're clearly in shock, and he's sure it's not because of him.

"He's dead," you mumble.

"Who?" He knows.

"My uncle." You sigh, a smile spreading on your face. Not your usual one, but one that's neither fully sinister nor relieved. A perfect blend, he concludes.

The darkness suits you.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"I hope he rots in hell."

Jungkook snorts, and your loud laugh in response is music to his ears.

"So, the usual for celebration today?"

"Hell yeah!" You cheer, which earns you some agreeing laughs from the other patrons around you.

Your eyes sparkle more than ever.

Jungkook turns around, the euphoria in your veins too strong for him to ignore the hunger screaming inside him.

"I'm finally free. I can go wherever I want now," you muse behind him while Jungkook's heart drops to the cold, hard floor.

No. No, no, no. That was not the plan.

"Will you leave?" His nerves are over the roof, and even though his instincts urge him to drink you dry, he turns around to gauge your reaction.

"No." Your voice is determined, not any less euphoric than minutes ago. "I'm safe here, aren't I?"

There's a challenge in your eyes. As if you're aware of where you are, who he is, who you're with at the moment.

Jungkook cocks his head sideways, challenging back, "Are you?"

The glee on your face is replaced by the most unarmed look he has seen in his life. Your eyes drip with adoration and devotion when you say, "I'm safe when I'm with you."

"Leave. Now." He barks out, and while the coffee shop starts to empty, your delicate voice calls after them, "Yeah, please leave."

The room freezes, every vampire on high alert when they realise you could hear all they ever said to each other.

Jungkook watches you sharply, calculating the threat you might pose.

But when nothing seems suspicious or even dangerous, he nods to the others, and they fly out.

The silence between you and him hangs heavy, your heartbeat gaining in power and speed with every second.

"What are you?" Jungkook forces out.

Your eyes soften even more at him, tears collecting again at your lower lashes. "I don't know."

He knows you're telling the truth. So when your next words reach him, he can't hold back any longer.

"Please don't make me leave you."

Jungkook springs over the counter, embracing your tiny, fragile form in his arms. When your fingers cling onto his tall frame as if your life depends on it, and you turn your neck to offer him your carotid artery, he's a goner.

You're not only his new drug but also his only supplier.

"Please don't ever let me go."

Your words flutter against his whole being, intoxicating him further. And it's the squeeze of your tiny hand on his right bicep that unleashes him. He takes a deep breath of your scent and sinks his fangs into your neck.

You moan instantly, running your right hand through the hair on his neck.

You're it for him. He was right. You're fucking it for him. He'll never go back from you. Your taste invades his mouth, and every cell in his body sings with it. The buzz is so strong, he thinks it compares to a golden shot.

"I love you so much," you whisper, your hands running softly over his cold skin.

He retreats, high on you, pupils dilated, with a mouth smeared with your blood.

You look up at him with hooded eyes, the love and admiration pouring into his with every second.

It has been 811 years, 279 days, 15 hours, and 34 minutes since he started walking on Earth. 811 years, 279 days, 15 hours, and 34 minutes until he finally says the words for the first time:

"I love you."

__________________________________________

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

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lily-blue · 1 year ago

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13 reasons why | reason no.11: the baristas can speak numerous languages

☆ characters: barista!junhui & foreigner!you (Zhixiao - ‘98 liner) ☆ genre: coffee shop au, humour, angst ☆ summary: you like that Junhui always speaks his mind around you when he thinks you don’t understand the words he’s saying because those times he makes it obvious that your feelings are reciprocated; however, what starts out as an innocent lie - a harmless albeit intentional omission of truth - almost ruins your chance for a happy ending ☆ words: 8,7k ☆ taglist: @dat-town,@soobin-chois

➼ chapter index

Even though you liked your personal space and had no problem having fun on your own, you were a great friend. An amazing, attentive friend, really. Someone who might have called her loved ones out on their ridiculous behaviour, but supported them nonetheless, because at the end of the day, you were a firm believer that even a seemingly horrible idea could have put people on the right path - on the path that led them exactly where they were supposed to be.

Thus, for those who knew you, it came as no surprise that you had willingly relocated your study sessions with your best friend from the uni library to a downtown coffee shop just because her new boyfriend worked there as a manager. With how extremely busy Yuri could get due to her teacher assistant and substitute high school literature teacher duties and her two majors out of which one required a well-written thesis paper by the end of the year, you understood her need to at least see Wonwoo while you were working on your assignments and quizzing each other for upcoming tests. Especially because they weren’t one of those cringe couples who couldn’t keep the PDA at the bare minimum around their single friends. In fact! If you had had time to give it a serious thought, you would have realised that you had never seen them sharing anything more than the chastest, softest, shortest kisses when you were around.

They were definitely more subtle with their stolen glances, too, than you, who were openly ogling at Junhui whenever his shifts aligned with your weekly study sessions. It was both surprising and unsurprising that he hadn’t noticed your interest in him yet, but you supposed that his obliviousness was somewhat charming, and you were also too busy for a serious relationship. As much as you hated Yuri’s asshole ex-boyfriend for dumping her in public, you knew you wouldn’t have been able to settle for those baby steps they were taking with Wonwoo. Hence, at the start of your university career, you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t have committed until after graduation, and you were adamant to keep yourself to your word.

Still, as you were witnessing another female customer chuckling by the counter at something that the Chinese barista told her, you couldn’t have helped but wish that he would have been still single when the right time finally came. Otherwise, he would be your one that had gotten away.

‘Have you finished your research analysis? Mine is getting way too long,’ Yuri’s question pulled you out of your head, forcing you to tear your gaze away from the customer who took way too long in the line, making the people behind her visibly fidgety.

‘My analysis?’ You asked, holding onto those pieces of information your brain had actually managed to register, although you didn’t stress over whether your best friend had caught you red-handed or was unaware of your growing dislike towards the giggly girl.

With furrowed eyebrows, Yuri nodded.

‘I still have two entire aspects to explain in detail, but I’m almost there. They shouldn’t take up more than three, three and a half pages,’ you said, quickly checking your notes and the progress you had made in the last two hours. Admittedly, you had always had a problem with word and page count requirements despite your major - you were a zealous journalist-to-be in the making -, but somehow working on your thesis paper came easily. Maybe, because for the first time since you had become a student, your options were plenty: you had been allowed to choose your own topic, your own consultant, your own research methods. Unlike many, you loved every second of the journey.

‘But are you within the required number of pages? I think I need to get back to a few points and delete a few sentences,’ the girl frowned, tapping on her keyboard and clicking with her mouse vehemently. ‘Or entire paragraphs.’

Well that… that made you jut out your bottom lip a little. You made grabby hands at her over the table that you shared under the coffee bean sticker.

‘Come on! Give me that laptop. I’m sure it’s not half as bad as you make it to be,’ you reassured her and took the device from her when she lifted it over your empty plates.

First, with an easy keyboard combination, you checked how close she was to the maximum number of pages, then skimmed through the paragraphs, paying more attention to those that looked massive at first glance. Fortunately, she didn’t have many of them. You managed to get rid of almost an entire page of word vomit in half an hour without damaging the core value of the paper.

Unruly locks falling into your face, you were chewing on your cheeks from the inside when a soft thud made you look up from the screen.

‘I’m sorry,’ Junhui said before he quickly repeated his apology in Chinese, so that you could understand as he was still under the impression that you didn’t speak the local language. In his defence, you had never bothered correcting his assumption, but that was because some things were simply too entertaining to purposely put an end to them. ‘Your cup was empty for a while now and you work so hard,’ he rambled before he pointed at the freshly made mocha next to your notes that you had never ordered.

His thoughtfulness made you feel warm.

‘Thank you, I haven’t even noticed it honestly. It’s really nice of you,’ you offered a smile that turned into an amused chuckle when not even ten seconds later, Wonwoo walked up to your table with a glass of iced coffee on a metal tray. You wondered who had stolen the idea from whom.

‘I…’ Junhui started, unconsciously giving in to his nervous habit when he cracked his knuckles one by one methodically. You wished you could have put your hand on his to stop him from further damaging his joints.

‘Would you like some pastries, too, girls? A sandwich?’ Surprisingly, it was the always quiet Wonwoo who broke the silence, his question attentive albeit business-like. He sounded more like the manager of the place than your best friend’s boyfriend, although it was true that the former would have taken your money for the snacks, while one look at the boy’s rose-tinted cheeks and shy smile was enough for you to know he meant them as freebies.

Your eyes met Yuri’s and you wiggled your eyebrows a few times before your gaze slid to the Chinese barista, then to her boyfriend. You prodded your best friend in the shin with your foot to make sure she understood your silent request.

‘Do you still have one of your chicken-avocado sandwiches, Wonwoo-yah? She’d really love to try it,’ she assisted you, so that you could live with the opportunity even though you could have afforded your own food. It was nice to get special treatment every once in a while even if you knew it was all thanks to Yuri who - unlike you - politely declined the offer. ‘I’m still full from those donut balls with lemon custard, but thank you. Tell Mingyu, they were delicious. I really enjoyed them.’ She smiled at the boy, then helped him collect your empty plates while you were busy observing the small changes in Junhui’s facial expressions.

The barista seemed more lost than flustered by the time Wonwoo left and your best friend took her laptop back from you.

‘Can I help you with something?’ You inquired with your chin resting on the back of your hand, completely disregarding Wonwoo’s confused look when you addressed his friend in his native language instead of Korean.

You wondered whether you had noticed his reaction because he was standing in your line of sight or his emotions were oozing out of him for everyone to see. However, Junhui made no sign of acknowledging Wonwoo’s bewilderment, hence you guessed it was all in your head. That, or the boy was the most oblivious person you had ever had the pleasure or misfortune to encounter. One day, you would definitely need to sit down with him and talk to him about his total lack of situational awareness and its dangers in today’s society.

‘With something?’ He asked, scratching his nape and you suck in your lower lip to keep your urge to laugh aloud at bay. You didn’t intend to embarrass him more than how awkward he must have already felt. ‘No. No, thank you. I… I think I should, yeah. Go back, you know?’ He rambled and you nodded along his every word, endeared.

‘Yeah, it’s a busy afternoon, isn’t it? I’m sure Yeseo would appreciate the help at the counter,’ you agreed without checking how many people were standing in the line to get their order from the girl. It didn’t matter. Agreeing with Junhui and soothing his nerves at the same time didn’t hurt anyone even if you had already seen afternoons much busier with only one barista standing behind the coffee machine.

‘Good luck with your assignment,’ he lifted his fists for a “hwaiting” before he slowly turned his back to you and rushed back to work.

‘You should tell him you speak Korean. You clearly make him nervous,’ your best friend said with a disapproving shake of her head that you ignored on purpose. It wasn’t like you were straight out lying into the boy’s face or hurting him intentionally. Not to mention that it hadn’t been you who had addressed him in Chinese first. It was all on him that he had never asked you whether you were speaking the local language to any extent in which case you would have come clean right away.

‘You think he’s nervous to speak in his native language?’ You raised a brow in amusement, her boyfriend’s temporary absence not registering in your mind until Wonwoo came back to your table with a chicken-avocado sandwich on a porcelain plate.

You thanked him for the food with a small bob of your head and a bright smile.

‘He’ll feel stupid when he realises,’ Yuri frowned, her argument quiet, but impactful. It made you frown, too, so you bit into your sandwich and used it as an excuse to prolong the silence. You knew that your best friend was only trying to look out for you and Wonwoo’s friend, and you were also aware that she hated confrontations. These were your main reasons for not letting your hurt get the best of you and saying something you might have instantly regretted in the next second.

‘How are the kids in your class? Any crazy stories these days?’ You asked between two bites, diverting the topic as soon as you swallowed down the first one. Considering how tired your friend’s sigh sounded, you supposed she wasn’t too happy about your choice, but she played along nevertheless for which you were grateful.

You would talk about Junhui another day.

Rationally speaking, you were well aware that pulling two all-nighters in a row because of your upcoming exams, piled-up assignments and the last-minute editing of your thesis made you more sensitive to a lot of things including noises and lights, but you still thought that you were being followed. The fact that the street lights made every stranger, who was taller than you, look sharper and more dangerous didn’t help at all. Your heart was hammering in your throat.

You were on your way home from a long study session with a few of your classmates for a group project, mentally cursing yourself for leaving your powerbank in your other backpack, when you became aware of the rhythmic sound of a pair of sneakers coming from behind you. It was super unnerving because usually the streets in downtown were loud enough to shut out individual noises, but this time it was as if your entire being was hyper fixated on the loud thud, thud, thud that resembled your own speeding up steps. Could it have been all in your head?

You were too freaked out to look over your shoulder and check it.

If you had been studying in the university library, you would have taken the metro to get back to your apartment, as you lived three minutes from the closest station, but since one of the guys had wanted to be able to eat snacks during your brainstorming session, you had opted for a quieter bubble tea and coffee shop where you knew the owner wouldn’t have sent you away to make more space for new customers. When your nervous eyes landed on the lit up windows of Coffee Carat, you had never been happier that Freefall was so close to Wonwoo’s workplace or that you had to walk in that direction to get home.

Resisting your fight or flight response and the growing urge to just hold onto your tote bag and run for your life, you did your best to stay as calm on the outside as possible. You didn’t want the person who was very likely following you to know you were onto them. Who knew what kind of reaction that would have triggered in them.

Your hand was trembling like a damned leaf in the autumnal wind when you finally reached the familiar double door and instead of walking past it, you pushed it open urgently. Your legs almost gave out when it closed shut behind your back, shielding you from the outside world.

You didn’t know how long you had been blocking the entrance before someone walked up to you, but you flinched without meaning to when the person touched your upper arm ever so gently.

‘Hey. Is everything alright?’ Wonwoo’s voice reached your ears from under heavy layers of water, and you nodded, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes.

‘I’m just…’ you started. Admittedly, you weren’t sure whether it would have been a good idea to tell him what had chased you into their shop so late. Not because you were afraid of his opinion of you in case you were seeing things due to sleep deprivation, but because you would have bet your life on it that it would have gotten back to Yuri, and you didn’t want to worry her. ‘I’ve just had a group meeting nearby and still have some school stuff to work on at home, so I came by for a cup of coffee. To re-energize,’ you said.

‘Okay,’ Wonwoo replied with a curt nod; however, it was clear as day that he didn’t believe you. It didn’t matter. At least he was considerate enough not to push for details. ‘Coffee to go? Or would you like to finish it here? Rest a little before going?’ He asked and you gulped, pushing down the urge to look outside the window to check whether the person who had been following you was still lingering nearby.

‘Yeah, a break sounds nice. Thanks,’ you agreed easily and you both walked up to the counter without engaging into a more meaningful conversation.

Even though Wonwoo made it clear that he would prepare your order out of turn, you insisted that you could wait for yours just like any other customer, then stood in line with a faux smile on your face. Having three people in front of you meant more justified minutes to stay in the building. It meant more time for your hypothetical follower to get bored and leave.

Deep in your thoughts, you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings until it was your turn to order, but looking up from your sneakers, you lifted your head just in time to see as Junhui pushed Minghao aside, so he could take your order instead. In his defence, the action would have been pretty subtle if it hadn’t been for him saying:

‘Go away! We’ve already talked about this. I’ll take her order!’

You bit into your cheek from the inside to swallow down a chuckle. He was so dumb, but so adorable.

‘Man. You’re embarrassing yourself,’ Minghao retorted with a deadpan expression and rolled his eyes for good measure right before his girlfriend pulled him towards the sink where they hand-washed the dirty plates, cups, glasses and mugs.

Junhui sent a bright albeit awkward smile in your direction.

‘What can I get for you?’ He asked in Chinese and you chose a random item from their menu with one of the desserts that was sold for half of its original price due to how close they were to closing the place. The strawberry daifuku looked too good to let it go to waste even if you knew from Yuri that the owner always gave the leftovers to his employees and friends.

Once you put your hands on the sweets and your extra large salted caramel macchiato, you chose an empty table close to the windows and took a sip from the drink. A rational part of you, that was aware that you should have caught up on some sleep that night, doubted it did you any good, but hell, it tasted delicious.

The less daifuku remained on your plate, the more content you felt, but it wasn’t the same as if you had been suddenly freed from the anxiety. You still kept looking outside the window, following every pedestrian with your eyes and focusing on the darker areas of the park that separated Coffee Carat from Freefall. It was ridiculous because you didn’t actually need to go near the trees to get home, but still. The greenery you liked so much in this neighbourhood made you feel nervous for the first time in your life.

Maybe, you should have asked for something without caffeine or less sugar.

‘Hey… are you like, uhm, waiting for someone?’ Junhui’s question came from beside you and you almost dropped your mug because of how unaware you were of your own surroundings. It was almost comical, how the roles had gotten reversed for a second.

‘What do you mean?’ You asked, genuinely confused by his assumption. With whom would you have met at a coffee shop after 9PM? For late-night dates, you much preferred diners and underrated restaurants where you could learn about the other person’s taste, too, not just their personality, which could be faked more easily.

‘It’s just that you keep staring outside and I was thinking. I didn’t mean to be rude, maybe it’s not my business, I mean, it’s definitely not my business. But we’re closing in ten minutes,’ he informed you and you looked down at your watch with eyes wide like saucers. You hadn’t realised it was already 9:50PM.

9:51PM.

‘I’m sorry. I’ll speed up and leave. Thanks for the reminder,’ you said with a smile, another one that felt more genuine that it should have been considering the whirlpool of emotions in your belly. Or were those butterflies? This thought only turned your grin wider.

Junhui nodded and turned his back to you just to turn back around again, not even a heartbeat later.

‘No, but… are you okay? Can I help you with something?’ He asked, a bit unsure yet clearly determined to get the truth out of you. You contemplated how pathetic it would have sounded if you had admitted that you were suddenly afraid of the dark; that you were unsure whether there was a monster waiting for you outside or it was only in your head because you didn’t take good care of yourself these days.

On most days, you didn’t give a damn about other people’s opinion of you. You liked to think that you had thick skin that allowed you to live a carefree, unapologetic life at least in this aspect. However, sitting by the window, sipping on your salted caramel macchiato, you felt unusually vulnerable. Still, instead of annoying, the question felt nice when it came from Junhui. Obviously, you had nothing against Wonwoo, either, he was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t your person.

You looked around in the customer area, acknowledging that there were only three other girls in the shop and that most of the empty tables were already cleaned.

‘Do you have some time to sit with me?’ You asked and he nodded immediately, jumping on the opportunity like an excited puppy despite trying his best to remain collected. At moments like this, you had a hard time believing that he wasn’t off the market already, that Junhui was seriously single when he was a green flag on two legs.

‘Of course, I have,’ the barista claimed before whispering under his nose in Korean: ‘I always have time for you.’

You decided to file that piece of information away for another time and took a sip from your macchiato before you started your story time. You told him about the straining workload at uni, your poor time management and messed up sleep schedule. You also mentioned the new group project professor Lee had dumped onto you last-minute and those long hours you had spent at Freefall. Then, you took a momentary break - drank another gulp from your drink - and went into details about the footsteps you had heard from behind your back and how eerie it had been that they had hit the concrete for the same rhythm yours had done so.

‘Maybe it’s all in my head. Dunno, it’s not like there aren’t CCTVs everywhere in Seoul,’ you tried to downplay it, but Junhui had none of it. He shook his head vehemently and went as far as to put his hands on his hips with a straight back, his posture almost unnatural.

‘Maybe, but what if you’re right and this person is real?’ He asked, his tone firm enough for you to know he wasn’t stalling because he was waiting for an answer. Thus, you pressed your lips together and remained silent. ‘Are you in a hurry? If not, you should stay until we finish up and I’ll walk you home,’ the suggestion left his mouth easily, the flames of determination in his eyes rendering you speechless.

If you wanted to be honest, you didn’t hate the idea of waiting for Junhui. Mostly because his presence made you feel safe - a sensation you were lacking that night - and because it was him offering and not you begging for his company. Not that you had ever had to fight for his attention, not really, but he was an objectively handsome young man, which meant he wasn’t short of young girls and women fanning over him. He could have spent his time with anyone, yet he chose to walk you home because you might or might not have been followed.

‘I’m not in a hurry,’ you said at the end, not exactly shy about the sudden turn of events, but lowkey blushing when Minghao walked up to your table and shoved a mop into his friend’s hands without further explanation.

While the other customers left the building, you were allowed to stay by your table and eat some of the leftover pastries for free while the guys closed the cash register and cleaned the place. In a weak moment, you offered to help them with the easiest tasks, such as mopping the floor after Junhui put every chair on the tables in the customer area; however, Wonwoo reassured you that Seungcheol paid his employees handsomely. They could manage the short list of things to do easily.

Time flew quickly in good company; it was a universal truth. Hence, as you were watching the guys joke around and annoy each other while they were simultaneously doing their job and joining the radio whenever there was a song they knew by heart, it came as no surprise that they finished everything before you realised a whole hour had passed. Standing in front of the double door with one hand on the handle, you had to make a conscious effort to not laugh or smile when Seokmin called Junhui out on his eagerness to leave with you. He was funny, but you weren’t supposed to get the joke. You hadn’t told Junhui yet that you spoke Korean and it didn’t feel like the right time or place. His friends would have never let him live it down.

So your smile was more on the polite side until you left; until it was only the two of you and the boy coaxed the first laughs out of you with his silly stories and ridiculous jokes. He was so bad at telling them, jumping from one key point to the other, sometimes leaving out the most important pieces of information, that your belly hurt by the time you reached your apartment building.

If you had been the main leads of a romantic comedy - or one of those Chinese dramas that were worth binge watching in your scarce freetime -, Junhui would have lingered before he eventually said goodbye to you, but in reality, he seemed pretty okay with leaving as soon as you pointed at your windows, so you needed to take matters into your own hands before he walked away.

‘We will celebrate the end of our - hopefully - last exam period next weekend with a few of our classmates. It’s more like an early graduation celebration party, you know, without the family and all the hassle. Would you like to come? Wonwoo will be there, too,’ you asked in one breath, trying to sound as casual as you could despite your obvious ramble.

Since when was “you” and “rambling” in one sentence a thing? God.

‘I… sure, someone has to make sure Wonwoo doesn’t become a party pooper after all,’ he shot a smile in your way, that bright and genuine smile that always awoke the butterflies in your tummy. ‘And make sure you get home in one piece,’ Junhui mumbled under his nose in Korean, his voice barely above a whisper yet impactful enough to paint your cheeks a faint shade of pink - a colour you could hide in the dimly lit street.

You bit into your cheek from the inside to contain your giddiness.

‘Someone has to,’ you agreed with both statements without his knowledge and promised him that you would tell him more about the details once they were set in stone before he walked away for real.

You couldn’t have believed you had let such a great opportunity go to waste when later that night you realised that you could have asked for Junhui’s number if only you had told him that you would send him the fixed date and location via kakao. Such an amateur, school girl mistake.

You were so busy with finishing up the school year and so excited about the party with your chillest classmates and friends that at one point of the night, after like two or three glasses of somaek, you completely forgot that only a handful of your Korean friends spoke Chinese and that they all talked to you in their native language, which you couldn’t have pretended not to understand when they had already known your Korean was close to fluent. How else could you have gotten yourself a partial scholarship to a Korean program at one of the best unis in the country? It wasn’t like you had written your assignments in Chinese or your lectures had had magical subtitles only you could have seen.

If you had the brain capacity, you might have wondered if anyone had ever set themselves up for failure as wonderfully as you had done when you had invited Junhui for the party, but you were sleep-deprived and tipsy, so you simply greeted him with one of your sweet smiles when he finally arrived.

‘You’re late!’ You complained, your lips taking on a naturally pouty shape as you looked him in the eyes. He looked so good with his adorable mole above his upper lip and the one on his cheek that lately made you want to pinch it. Or kiss it. Maybe something in-between. Or both. Yeah, you could have definitely pinched his cheek and kissed him as an apology. Or should you have kissed him first and pinched him afterwards just to tease him? You liked teasing him a lot.

‘I’m sorry. There was an emergency at the shop,’ he apologised before he tilted his head to the left and pointed at Wonwoo who had also arrived only a couple of seconds ago. You followed his line of sight and sighed when you saw Yuri hugging her boyfriend so openly albeit a bit shyly. You wanted to do the same, just not with Wonwoo.

‘Hey guys! Grab a shot and come to the table! It’s time for the classic, the cliche, the legend!’ One of your classmates shouted, hyping up your slowly growing group, although you knew what was coming was the most basic drinking game of all time: ‘Truth or dare!’

You shook your head with a smile and tugged on Junhui’s sleeve.

‘You heard her. Let’s go!’ You exclaimed, completely oblivious to the fact that you shouldn’t have been able to understand the girl or that you had just blown on your imaginary house of cards as though it had always meant to be destroyed so carelessly.

You didn’t stutter, you didn’t waver and you clearly weren’t aware of the reason why Junhui was giving you such a terrified look. Your tipsy brain assumed it was because of the game and how juicy it could have gotten when one was playing it with the right gang.

With so many people around, it took for a while until you could actively participate in the game, but you genuinely enjoyed yourself while you were watching your classmates and friends embarrass themselves in public. Then, you dared Yuri to sit into Wonwoo’s lap and the crowd went wild. You hadn’t felt so light and carefree in months.

‘Your turn. Truth or dare?’ Wonwoo’s question was directed at you three or four rounds later, his eyes shining with unexpected mischief as he raised one of his brows. He was challenging you and you were a coward, so you chose:

‘Truth.’

Obviously, you would have been stupid to willingly embarrass yourself in front of Junhui. He was already way too quiet for your liking. Now that you thought about it, he hadn’t said a word since you two had joined your friends by the table.

You turned towards him, worried. And you were still looking at him when your best friend’s boyfriend’s question reached your ears, dread morphing your features as the seriousness of the situation hit you in the face. Oh. Why hadn’t you thought of the possibility that Wonwoo might have asked you why you were pretending not to understand Korean around Junhui? It was such a predictable question in hindsight, especially after the sneaky dare you had given Yuri.

‘I…’ you started, but the words stuck in your throat and you had to take a deep breath before you tried again, this time, with more confidence. It was as good of a time to come clean as any even if the circumstances weren’t ideal. So far, you could have soothed your conscience with the reminder that you had never lied in Junhui’s face. You didn’t want to start it now.

So you turned your whole body towards the boy and made sure he heard you when you told him the truth.

‘I like knowing those things he isn’t brave enough to admit aloud,’ you said, giving him one of your sweetest smiles in hope of his forgiveness.

Yet, he averted his eyes, and when you gave in the urge to touch his face and make him look at you, he cleared his throat and excused himself like it wasn’t painfully obvious that he didn’t need to use the toilet. He needed more distance between the two of you.

You bit into your cheeks from the inside hard enough to draw blood before you, too, left the table, using the weak excuse that you needed some fresh air. In reality, you just couldn’t bear to see the pitiful look everyone was giving you or hear the apology that fell from your best friend’s lips as though it was her or Wonwoo’s fault.

Even tipsy, you knew it was all on you.

The first thing that popped up in your mind when you left the diner and sat down on one of the plastic chairs outside was that maybe you were wrong and you did need some fresh air. Because hell it felt amazing when the cold, wintry air hit your face and caressed your warm cheeks like a mother would - or a best friend. A person you could confide in. God, you had screwed up big time, hadn’t you?

Frowning, it didn’t even occur to you that sitting outside in December, wearing nothing but a thin long-sleeved shirt and denim jeans was a bad idea. You didn’t question why there were only three other dudes chatting on the terrace, smoking cigarettes. You were just relieved to be alone while you were mourning a relationship you had never even had. You really liked Junhui.

It was the sudden weight of a jacket on your shoulders that pulled you out of your thoughts, your head snapping towards your intruder fast enough to hurt. However, as soon as your eyes met Junhui’s you swallowed down the groan.

‘What…’ you started, but didn’t know how to finish the question, so you pressed your lips together and said nothing. Did you even have the right to ask him what he was doing outside when you had made him so uncomfortable, he had to distance himself from you? Did you even want to hear the answer?

As much as you didn’t mind being rejected - you were an advocate for the basic human right of saying no -, at that moment, you would have rather not be called an awful person by the first person who had piqued your interest in years. You had already felt pathetic, your self-esteem could only take so much one night.

Junhui took the chair next to you.

‘Were you having fun?’ He broke the silence when he realised you wouldn’t, his gaze fixated on something in front of him instead of on you as though he was just as afraid of the look on your face as you were of the emotions in his eyes. You didn’t want him to resent you, though, you might have deserved it. ‘Or do you really like me?’

It wasn’t the first time you heard the boy speak Korean, clearly, but there was something new and almost odd about hearing Junhui dedicating a question to you in the local language. You allowed yourself another quick glance at him, and even in your tipsy state it was ridiculously easy to tell that he was much drunker than the last time you had sat this close. It took one to know one.

You let out a defeated sigh.

‘I like you. I really do, Junhui,’ you admitted as you wondered whether your confession was too plain and about the chances that he would believe you. Weren’t you a notorious liar in his eyes?

Your lips parted in disbelief when instead of an answer or a well-deserved accusation, you felt a light weight on your right shoulder; the side Junhui was sitting on. Slowly, to not ruin the moment, you turned your head in that direction, surprised to see the boy’s head resting on you. Too stunned to comprehend the situation, you lifted your left hand to touch his soft hair and simultaneously check whether he was asleep.

Based on the lack of reaction, he was. He fell asleep on your shoulder. On the very same person’s shoulder who had unintentionally made him feel like a fool. You didn’t have to be a genius to know you didn’t deserve the immense amount of trust something like this required from a person; he was so vulnerable, completely unconscious beside you, and so adorable as he was snoring lightly that you swore you would protect him from all harm. If only he had given you a second chance.

If you wanted to be honest, you had no idea how long you stayed outside or whether you had also managed to fall asleep at one point. However, it was fairly obvious that the party hadn’t been over yet when Yuri and her boyfriend walked up to you and informed you that they had already called a cab.

‘Do you need help with him? We can take a small detour to both of your apartments if you’re okay to leave in ten,’ Wonwoo offered and you sneaked a glance at Junhui before you made up your mind. Sure, you would have gladly stayed for a little longer, making up for all those university parties you had deliberately missed out on due to your workload, but making sure the boy got home in one piece was higher on your priority list.

‘Thanks. That would be nice,’ you accepted the help and let Wonwoo pull his friend into a bent albeit standing position when the driver finally arrived.

Since Yuri volunteered to take the passenger’s seat and out of the three remaining passengers you were the tiniest, you stuck between the boys in the backseat with Junhui’s head once again on your shoulder. Way less tipsier than an hour prior, it was impossible not to notice the effect his closeness had on your body: his warm breath fanning over your skin under your ear sent a pleasant shiver down your spine and whenever his nose touched your neck, you felt new goosebumps forming on your lower arm. He was so, so close and so damn out of it, you were sure he would have felt embarrassed that he was particularly cuddling you in front of his friend if he had been conscious.

God, even your cheeks were burning and you were sitting so upright, one would have thought someone had shoved a stick up your ass.

‘We’re here,’ Wonwoo nudged you when the cab parked in front of Junhui’s building and you acknowledged with a surprised hum that his place was in the opposite direction from the café than yours. Suddenly, his offer to walk you home after your mild panic attack meant so much more to you.

You looked down at the sleeping boy and brushed a stray strand of hair out of his face.

Although you did shake Junhui awake, dragging him up to the third floor was an adventure on its own, not to mention the mess he made as soon as his front door closed behind your back. He might not have thrown up on your shoes, but he crashed into several furniture and walls, which resulted in two broken porcelain decorations and a rose-coloured bump on his head.

‘It’s okay. You can rest now,’ you told him once he was under the blankets, still in his clothes but with his shoes and socks off. It wasn’t below you to put a drunk person in their pyjamas; however, with Junhui, you didn’t want to risk crossing that line without his explicit consent. Especially not after the unplanned twists and turns of the night.

Placing a hastily written note in front of the glass of water and painkillers that Wonwoo had put on his bedside table before he had given the two of you some space, you only hoped he wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable during the rest of the night in his jeans and shirt.

You were thinking about this and the way Junhui’s warm breath felt against your skin in the backseat until your body (and mind) gave in to exhaustion in your own bedroom.

You weren’t avoiding Junhui. But with Christmas coming up, then your thesis defence and your scheduled family trip back to China a week before Chinese New Year, you told yourself that you were too busy to spent so much time in a coffee shop, pathetically hoping that the boy you liked would not only show willingness to talk to you, but have some time to do so as well. You didn’t know his schedule and he had never texted you despite the note you had left behind before you had walked out of his bedroom after the disastrous end of semester party.

Rationally speaking, you knew you had other options. You could have asked Yuri’s boyfriend to send you Junhui’s schedule. You could have also cashed in a favour from Wonwoo and asked him to give the barista a short break when there weren’t too many customers at the shop, so that you could have talked. You could have texted Junhui first or simply shown up at the shop close to closing time. However, a selfish part of you wanted him to take the initiative, because you felt like that would have been a clear sign that he didn’t hate you, that you might still have had a chance.

So why you were at Coffee Carat two days before your flight to Beijing was beyond you. You guessed this was what it meant to be a supportive best friend: you showed up even when it was the last thing you wanted to do at that moment, even when you knew you were being set up as there was no way Yuri would have seriously needed a cup of coffee delivered to her flat in the middle of the day when she had her own coffee machine at home and her boyfriend worked at the same coffee shop.

With a resigned sigh, once it was your turn in front of the counter, you asked for her usual iced coffee.

‘And here I was thinking, he was overdramatic. You do look like you would rather eat glass than be here,’ Minghao said as he started the coffee machine, then filled an empty plastic cup with ice cubes. He was as grumpy as ever, but you wouldn’t have had him any other way. It also did good to your guilt that his first words to you weren’t overly nice. If you wanted to be a hundred percent honest, you deserved the roasting.

‘It’s always so nice to see you, Minghao. Thank you for asking, I’m doing pretty okay these days. No more assignments, no more all-nighters,’ you remarked with more amusement than malice as you fished your wallet out of your bag and linked your arms in front of your chest. Eyeing the glass display, you were contemplating whether you should have bought yourself a cupcake or a cinnamon roll. They both looked delicious.

‘Amazing,’ he mused. He put the plastic lid on Yuri’s drink, then followed your line of sight and put a freshly baked cinnamon roll with walnut pieces on top in a paper bag. You licked your lower lip unconsciously; you could feel the yearning in the pit of your tummy. ‘Though, it’s not exactly what a best friend would want to hear from the girl who is messing with their friend’s head,’ he added when you exchanged money, deliberately disregarding the whine that escaped your mouth.

It was a low blow, but you couldn’t deny that there was some truth to what he said. Even if you had never messed with Junhui’s head on purpose. Because despite the implication, you had never played with him. Your interest had been pure and genuine. It still was.

The unmistakable sound of broken glass pulled you back to reality and also forced Minghao to tear his judging gaze away from you. The scream stuck in your throat the moment your eyes landed on a panicking Junhui in the middle of a latte pond. Was that strawberry jam on his lower arm? Was he bleeding?

‘Are you okay?’ The question fell from your lips without thinking, the fact that you were speaking in Chinese not registering in you until Minghao gave you a nasty side eye. Oh. You quickly cleared your throat and repeated the question in Korean. ‘I’m sorry. Are you okay?’

‘I’m…’ Junhui started, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other in a crouching position. His cheeks, neck and ears were rose-coloured, but for the first time you were too worried about him to find his bashfulness adorable.

You were seconds from rushing behind the counter, so that you could examine his body for possible injuries.

‘I’m fine,’ Junhui shot a tight-lipped smile in your direction, which might have been meant to be reassuring, but did nothing to soothe your nerves.

If you had only given a single thought to your actions, you would have realised that running behind the counter as a customer was a horrible idea for numerous reasons. For instance, it went against basic hygiene regulations, therefore it could have gotten the place in big trouble if anyone had taken a picture of you sitting on your knees beside Junhui without an apron and a proper uniform. In the era of social media and cancel culture, there were no such things as small or innocent mistakes.

However, you clearly weren’t thinking - not about the negative consequences of your actions nor anyone else but the flustered boy in front of you.

‘Stop fidgeting. Don’t touch that!’ You scolded him so naturally it felt like the two of you had never stopped talking and pulled him up from the floor with ease, taking full advantage of his confusion as you dragged him to the closest empty chair.

After checking every inch of his lower arms two times, lips pressed into a thin line because of how nervous you felt, you acknowledged with a relieved sigh that Junhui was fine. He had one minor cut on his left index finger, that you dressed in a plaster dutifully.

‘Here. As good as new,’ you teased, not because you found the possibility of Junhui getting hurt funny, but because the worry you had just felt had been overwhelming and you needed to lighten the mood - for the sake of your sanity.

And maybe to dilute the lingering awkwardness around you when the silence settled.

It was the first time you saw him in weeks. Unsurprisingly, he looked the same, but somehow things still felt different. You wondered whether it was because you weren’t talking in your native language anymore. You missed the familiar warmth that always embraced you when he addressed you in Chinese. For the first time since you had moved countries, you swore you were experiencing homesickness, which was as ridiculous as true.

‘You know…’ Your body jerked when you heard Minghao’s girlfriend’s voice from behind your back. You snapped your head in her direction only to see her staring at the two of you with a broom and a plastic dustpan. ‘For people who can converse in at least two languages, you two are pretty shitty at communication,’ she said with a frown, her tone not judgemental per se, but still a bit reprimanding.

You bit into your cheek from the inside, swallowing back a scoff. Your communication skills were exceptional. You hadn’t had any problem talking to Junhui before… before that stupid truth or dare. Just the thought of it soured your mood.

‘Sooryeon-ah…’

‘We’re doing just fine,’ you remarked at the same time Junhui let out a pitiful whine. You looked back at the boy who was sitting beside you and closed your eyes for theatrics. Maybe, you weren’t doing fine at all. However, saying it out loud, admitting it in front of his friend’s girlfriend, felt so bad. As though you had failed before you could have even tried.

‘Oh? You’re doing fine, you say?’ Sooryeon’s interest was clearly piqued at the sudden turn of events, the smirk audible in her voice. ‘So he’s finally asked you out on a date?’

The speed your head turned in the barista girl’s direction wasn’t even funny. You could feel your neck crack and you cursed your instincts for betraying you so badly. Still, as giddiness slowly blended into your confusion, you couldn’t help but smile. Was it naive of you to hope that she was also up-to-date with the happenings between the two of you? Shouldn’t you have at least prepared yourself for the disappointment in case it had only been true before… before that stupid truth or dare.

‘Lim Sooryeon!’ Junhui’s raised voice took you completely off guard, pushing you from one surprise to another as the twists of the day pulled the rug from under your feet. You had never heard him so frustrated - angry? - in your life and you had known him for over a year by then. You had seen him surrounded by girls who didn’t know what no meant; you had seen him handle entitled Karens on a weekly basis with utmost patience; you had seen him being teased for hours to no end by his friends.

‘Moon J—’

‘He did. We’ll have street food tonight. Go, watch a movie,’ you cut the barista girl off before their banter could have drawn too much unwanted attention. A few of the customers were already giving you curious glances and you knew, deep down you just knew, that the only reason Minghao didn’t come up to you to scold Junhui was because of the growing line in front of the counter.

The silence that followed your statement was deafening and for a second you contemplated whether you should have apologised and told Sooryeon the truth - if you should have stopped altering reality so shamelessly whenever you seemed fit even though you never meant any harm when it happened -, but then Junhui asked:

‘We will?’ With so much enthusiasm that it threw your life off its axis.

He sounded so happy as though he wasn’t aware that he had, in fact, hadn’t asked you out on a date. How could you have said yes to a question that he had never asked? He was so silly but so adorable.

A grumpy voice in your head, suspiciously akin to Minghao’s, attempted to convince you that lying was not the solution, but one look at Junhui’s shy smile made it impossible for you to do the morally acceptable thing. What was so good about doing the “right thing” when that would have only dampened his mood? And it wasn’t that you were about to straight out lie in his face. You had every intention to have street food with him after his shift in case he was up for it.

You would have been stupid to turn down this miraculously obtained second chance.

‘We will,’ you confirmed with a soft smile, mustering up the courage to lean a little forwards, so you would have been close enough to him to cup his cheeks with your hands, squeezing them with a cooing sound.

‘Junhui! If your injuries aren’t deadly, come back behind the counter. You’re not off the clock yet,’ Minghao’s command cut through the air and you reluctantly let Junhui’s face go, so that he could pull away and go back to work.

That day, you decided that Yuri needed to wait a couple of hours for her iced coffee - the first cup became lukewarm by the time you put yourself together, therefore you used it as an excuse to stay until lunch break and finished it with your dessert. In the meantime, whenever the crowd was manageable, you exchanged a few words with Junhui: you apologised for last time and he apologised for never contacting you. You made him blush, teasing him about how delighted your grandparents would be when they found out he’s Chinese and he tried his best to repay the favour with the cheesiest compliments you ever heard (and a slice of orange cheesecake that finally did the trick and painted your cheeks red). It was as easy as you had remembered, talking to Junhui again, but you also knew Sooryeon had been right. The two of you had a long way to go when it came to communication, but that was okay. You were only at the beginning of the journey.

You had years to perfect your skills. A lifetime if you were lucky.

➼ next reason

#seventeen scenarios #caratwritersclub #junhui x reader #jun x reader #junhui x you #jun x you #moon junhui #wen junhui #ssbyme #seventeen series #coffee shop au

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waitingtobebroken · 8 months ago

Text

Very sad to have finished this! But also really proud of how it turned out 🤭🤭 Perhaps the softest AU I have ever written without even a drop of angst (I know, I know)

Heavenly Wicked Cafe (T, 34K words, Now complete)

Summary:

There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Love at First Sight, Mutual Pining, Awkward Flirting, Aziraphale and Crowley Share a Brain Cell, Crowley is Whipped, Aziraphale is Down Bad, awful customer service

#good omens #good omens fanfic #ineffable humans #gomens #good omens human au #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #coffee shop au #my writing

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newtonsheffield · 2 years ago

Note

Can I throw in another Spicy Sunday 🌶 request for Take A Deep Breath??

Anonymous asked: I know it’s Monday for you, and it’s a late ask, but can we get Spicy Sunday for the tattoo/florist au!? Maybe after the declaration of love and we’re living in the happily ever after!?

Anonymous asked: Are you planing on writing something for spicy 🌶️ Sunday ? The one night stand of florist and tattoo artist?

@kanthony23195 asked:

Hi Molly,

Long time, but sorry I had to enter the chat b/c this new AU is in my system and I can't stop thinking about it. So per usual is this the new tattoo Anthony?

Also, may I please request a Spicy Sunday for the new tattoo/florist AU? They are just so cute, perhaps the first time they make it official and Anthony is so obsessed? or whatever floats your boat.

Thank you!

Wow. Tattooist Anthony and Florist Kate really have everyone in a chokehold huh? All right, lets see how they do.

Kate loved that she could still feel Anthony on her body all day after he stayed over. It was like she could feel his fingerprints all over her. She could feel his lips still on her neck and the ways his knee nudged her apart and the way he whispered in her ear Oh that's it, baby, let me hear you. Oh fuck baby you feel so good. Fuck Kate. Oh, Fuck!

She loved it. She loved everything about the way they were together. She loved his fingers on her hip and she loved the way he placed his cap on her head, when they were at the pub, the way he draped himself over her, engulfing her completely. She liked the way his lips touched her neck softly and the way he slip into the shop every time he went out for coffee, leaving lemonade and a muffin on the counter for her. She'd catch him by the back of his shirt before he darted back out the door and drag him back until their lips met.

"I love you."

He got the softest smile on his face whenever she said it, wrapping her in a tight hug. "Fuck, I love you."

She loved how that settled on her skin, how he made her feel it every second they were together and every second they were apart. She loved how he crouched in front of her, waiting for her to get on his back to carry her around and she loved how he turned to her one day as they lay on a picnic blanket in the park with her head cushioned on his arm and said

"I'm going to marry you one day, Kate Sharma."

"Is that right?"

He grinned at her "Yeah, that's right. So get ready."

She could hardly keep the smile off her face these days.

"Can you stop daydreaming about Anthony?" Edwina rolled her eyes as she ducked her head back in the door, finished loading the van for their afternoon deliveries.

"I wasn't." Kate scoffed as she turned away, misting the orchid kokedama behind the counter. "I'm not constantly thinking about him, you know."

"You've got that dreamy little smile on your face that means you're thinking about him."

"Can you just get out of here?" Kate waved vaguely at her sister, her cheeks burning.

"Right, I'll be back soon."

The door swung closed behind her and Kate turned her back on it, continuing to water the permanent plants they kept to give everything a greener feel, humming as she went.

The door opened again quickly and Kate sighed, "Did you forget something?"

"Yes." A deeper, more masculine voice sighed regretfully, causing her stomach to lurch. "I think I forgot to ah... shag my girlfriend this morning."

Kate bit back a laugh, turning towards Anthony with her eyebrow raised "I don't think you did forget that."

Anthony was leaning against the wooden doorframe, making a great display of turning the sign to closed and locking the door. He was wearing a tshirt with the sleeves cut off and his jeans were tight on his legs, his doc martens heavy on the floor and Kate's chest felt tight already as he turned towards her with a devilish grin on his face.

"Oh that in the shower?" he chuckled, stalking his way towards her, "That hardly counts."

Kate clicked her tongue, heat already licking at her stomach, "I think if a part of you's inside me it counts as sex."

Anthony leaned over, letting his body roll against her, pushing her against the bench beside the sink, the strong, masculine scent of him overwhelming her. "Do you want to do it again though?"

She could feel herself aching for him, longing to lean up and press her lips against his, claim them as hers. She wanted her teeth to sink into his neck and for his next client to see that. To see that he was taken.

"Do you?"

Neither of them moved, just stared back at either other, their eyes burning together and a low growl built in the back of Anthony's throat. And then they both moved at once.

Anthony's lips bruised against hers as her hands twisted in the front of his shirt tugging him closer. She gasped against him and his tongue slipped into her mouth and flicked over hers. It had always been so good. From the very first time their lips had met into the back of that pub and her knees had felt weak. She hadn't stopped thinking about it, even as she'd gone out with other men and tried to forget him she'd remembered how he'd kissed her. As though this was the only chance he'd ever get to do it. And he still kissed her like that now.

His hands slid down her waist, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist, squeezing her arse gently, pressing her even closer to his chest. Her lips slid to his neck as a moan built in her throat and he shivered as her teeth nipped at his neck.

"Fuck, I can't stop thinking about you, Babe." His voice was rough, desperate in her ear as he set her down on the bench his hand sliding up her legs, "I can't stop thinking about how you tasted this morning."

Kate felt her breath hitch as her hips bucked against him helplessly, clutching him closer, encouraging his hand to slip into her underwear under her skirt. "Taste me again then."

Anthony chuckled, moaning as his hands slipped under the waistband of her knickers "No, Baby. Come for me like this."

Kate's head fell back against the wall as she nodded, letting her eyes roll back in her head focusing on the feel of Anthony. His arms were warm and strong, his chest broad as his hips rolled, lending their weight to his hand, the pressure heavenly already. His teeth were nipping at her collarbone, sucking the skin there, probably leaving a mark and she didn't care.

All she cared about was the press of his body and the heat coiling tighter and tighter in her stomach

I'm so close, Ant, I'm so close.

Tighter and tighter until-

Anthony pulled his hand away, chuckling as she let out a curse, his grin sent straight from hell to ruin her. "Changed my mind."

Kate tugged him forward by the waistband of his jeans, her hips grinding up against him as she tugged the button free. "Fuck me right now, or don't come to mine tonight."

Anthony's chuckle came out half a moan as she pushed his boxers down, "Eager this afternoon."

"Shut up."

She could hardly breathe as he ground against her, letting her feel him, letting them both feel it, and then moved his hips and they were joined together.

She couldn't feel anything but Anthony. Couldn't feel anything but the way his hips ground against her and he rotated hers so she could feel him, more. She could feel the heat building again as she nipped at his neck, sinking her teeth deeper and deeper into the skin of his neck. She let herself suck the soft skin there, felt his moan and gasped vibrating through her.

Oh fuck, Kate, baby, you feel incredible. Fuck you're always so incredible. Fuck I love seeing you like this. You're so fucking beautiful.

his hand tugged at the front of her shirt, letting her breasts fall free and his mouth moved over them and still their hips snapped together. The bench rattled against the wall and the sound of their moans filled the shop and she could smell their sweat hanging in the air.

That's it. Come on Kate. Come for me.

It surprised her as she tumbled over the edge, biting Anthony's neck to muffle the sound of her scream and Anthony followed, shuddering against her.

Anthony stood up after several moments. leaning into the feel of her fingers raking through his hair before he kissed her softly. "I love you."

"You were waiting for Edwina to leave weren't you?"

Anthony chuckled, "Yes. She takes so fucking long to load the van."

"Edwina would like to know if you're done!" a voice called out from the front, "She forgot her phone!"

#take a deep breath and jump (then fall)#spicy sunday🌶#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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invisibleraven · 1 year ago

Note

1 - coffee shop au for your most self-indulgent rare pair

"I've got a medium drip for Blaine!" Willie called, laying the drink on the counter. "And a grande nonfat mocha for Kurt!" He smiled at the very cute (and obviously together) guys that came up to fetch their drinks and Willie waved as they went off, hand in hand.

Looking at the clock though, Willie groaned. He knew he'd regret taking the double shift, but he had rent to pay and paints to buy, so the money was appreciated. He knew if he really wanted to he could ask Caleb for help, but he hadn't gotten that bad yet.

Maybe it was foolish, given Caleb was wealthy as Croesus, and more than happy to give his beloved foster song whatever he wanted. But he also was a self made man, and Willie wanted to prove he could do the same, make a mark for himself without it being because of Caleb's money or name.

Thus working at a coffee shop for shit hours while he got his Graphic Design degree, plus his Art minor. Maybe a useless degree to some, but he had already designed a few ads that kept his fridge stocked, and a job lined up for once he had his diploma next year. Giving him lots of time to work on his art, maybe even sell some of it.

All in all, Willie didn't have many complaints in his life.

Except perhaps that it didn't include any romance. Willie had been tragically single since he and Dante went kaput, and well seeing happy couples sit five feet away on dates and morning after drinks kind of stung.

Case in point, the super hot guys that just walked in. A blond in a pink hoodie with a honest to goodness fanny pack. The other with dark slicked back hair and in a leather jacket. They contrasted beautifully and the sappy looks they gave each other made Willie ache.

But he threw on his customer service smile, and greeted them. "Hey there, what can I get for you?"

"I'll have a large iced chai tea latte," the leather jacket wearing one said.

"Oat milk cappuccino please," the blond replied.

"Lex you know you'll be wired all night if you drink that now."

"Well Reginald, if I don't I'm gonna fall asleep at my drumset tonight. So caffiene me up."

"You guys in a band?" Willie asked, giving them their total.

"Yeah, Sunset Curve," Reginald said, shooting him finger guns. "Tell your friends!"

"We're playing the Satellite tonight," Lex said. "You should come check us out."

Willie's smile faded at that. "Aw man, if I didn't have to open tomorrow I totally would. I've heard of you guys, you're really good."

"Thanks, I'm Reggie by the way. This is Alex."

"Willie." Then he blushed as Alex shoved their change and a few extra bills into the tip jar.

"Well we go on at nine, so if you wanna come even just for an hour, we'd love to have you there," Alex said.

"I'll get them to set a ticket out for you if you want," Reggie offered.

"Why would you do that?" Willie asked. "You don't know me."

Reggie blushed and shrugged. "Always was a sucker for a pretty face, plus we always try to do right by our fans."

"You think I'm cute?" Willie asked with a smirk, sitting his chin on his palms. "Well neither of you are hard on the eyes either."

"T-thanks," Alex stuttered, turning the softest pink, rivalling his hoodie.

Sure Willie knew that they might only be complimenting him for a one night tumble with a third, but hey, he wouldn't exactly turn the chance down. It wasn't an epic romance, but it was more than he'd been offered lately.

Plus he didn't think he'd kick either of them outta bed given the chance.

"Ahem, your drinks are ready," Fuego called from down the counter, rolling his eyes at them.

Alex and Reggie both grinned, still flushed, and they took their drinks, but neither of them rushed to leave, almost reluctant to say goodbye to Willie. But then Alex got a text that made his face screw up and he muttered that they had to get to sound check.

"I'll try to make it tonight," he promised.

"Hope you do!" Reggie exclaimed.

"See you tonight Willie!" Alex called, yanking Reggie out and into the street, Willie watching them go.

He got back to work, restocking and cleaning between each lull, wondering if he could squeeze in a nap after work. Only then, firtune smiled on him and Mabel came in, asking if he would switch shifts with her tomorrow, meaning he would work the closing shift, letting him stay out late, and even sleep in the next day.

He was pretty quick to agree to the change, and took his share of the tips before flying home. He found he was too amped for a nap, but he managed to wash the worst of the coffee stink off himself and picked out his cutest crop top and snazziest socks.

And given the hungry, predatory looks that Alex and Reggie gave him as they spotted him from the stage? Well he figured he chose well.

And the next morning, when they woke him up with kisses and coffee from his cupboards? He knew he did.

#filled prompts #ficlet #willexie #julie and the phantoms

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yootaesowlwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Military Spy - Yoo Taeyang AU

Warnings: AU, Spy AU, Spy!Yoo Taeyang, slow burn, angst, betrayal, explicit language, explicit language. broken trust, happy ending.

W/C: 9.2K

You move around the park with one of your close friends, laughing with them, and gently slapping one of their shoulders at what was told to you, it looked like you were enjoying yourself. One person that was not enjoying himself was Yoo Taeyang as he was watching you and your friends from afar.

He was given a mission, and that was to gather information about what your friends knew, you, however, knew nothing, but your friends… they knew everything he needed to help his side out. His eyes move onto you, keeping a straight face and tight-lined smile, his eyes were cold as he practically glared at you. But… Perhaps you could be his ticket to that information he needed.

From a young age, he was trained by his father to be cold and emotionally unavailable to anyone, it was about winning a war, that had been drilled into his head. Focus on the mission, focus on winning, focus on taking over. That was all he knew.

A few days passed, and you were in a coffee shop, waiting for your coffee, on your phone mindlessly going through different apps to cure your boredom. Your name was called, and you received your coffee and put your phone away, as you turn to leave, you accidentally bump into someone, your coffee spilling onto the floor and yourself and that person.

“Oh my gosh!” You quickly say and turn to grab napkins. “I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry,” You begin dabbing the iced coffee from your arms and let out a sigh as you saw the mess on the floor, feeling bad that someone else had to clean that up. You quickly turn your attention to the person you had bumped into. “I’m so sorry…” You trail off as your eyes land on him. He was handsome, beautiful… And gosh, he carried the softest smile you had ever seen.

“It’s okay, no harm done,” He says, giving you a reassuring smile. Yoo Taeyang was well aware of how handsome he was, and he had been trained to use those looks to his benefit if he ever needed to seduce anyone, he never thought that the skill would become useful. “At least it was iced coffee,” You slowly nod your head, feeling bad that you had spilt your drink onto him. You reach out for his hand.

“Here, let me… clean your arm.” You say, and look down as you begin dabbing the liquid from his arm. “I can be such a klutz,” You miss the split second his frown returns to his face, but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and he was smiling once again.

“No harm done,” He says, and takes the napkin from your hand to clean the remaining coffee from him. “Let me buy you a new one, I feel bad,” you shake your head.

“No, no, you don’t have to,” You say and watch as he tosses the used napkins into the trash. “It’s not necessary.”

“I insist, I caused you to spill it, after all,” He says. “Let me get you one, what was it, an iced coffee or an iced Americano?” You couldn’t help but smile as he turns towards the ordering desk.

“It was an iced coffee,” You softly say. He nods his head and gives in the order, ordering an iced Americano for himself as well. Soon you both were sitting at a table with your drinks in front of you. “I don’t even know your name, and you’re buying me coffee,” He chuckles and takes a sip from his coffee.

“I’m Yoo Taeyang,” He says. “I just moved here, and already on my first day I cause a mess,” You couldn’t help but giggle and shake your head.

“It was my fault, I didn’t check before I turned,” You say and pull your drink closer to you. “Next time I’ll buy a drink for you,” He nods his head and licks his lips. He lifts his hand and runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back, only for them to fall back into place, a little dishevelled.

“If you plan on doing that, even though you don’t need to, then it’s only fair I also know your name?” He asks. You bite the inside of your cheek, why did you find him so cute? Why did you find his actions so cute? Although, his eyes did look beautiful as they sparkled in the light, and almost looked like warmth when the sun was hitting them just right. You quickly shake your head, realising that you were getting distracted by him.

“Oh, right, I’m Y/n Y/l/n,” You say. “I almost wish we met under better circumstances,” You grip onto your drink and brought it to your lips to take a sip.

“Almost?” He asks. “Why almost?” He tilts his head, causing his hair to fall over his eyes, and there you went again, your heart fluttering for no reason at all at a man you just met.

“I’m afraid if I didn’t spill my coffee on you… then we wouldn’t be talking like this right now,” You say. If only you knew that, he would have found another way to talk to you, and it wasn’t because he wanted to get to know you. It was because of his mission, because of what he needed. And he thought that it was easy, all going to plan, not realising what was to come for himself.

The next time you and Taeyang meet was when your friends, and you were in a park, he was following you when he decided to grip on the opportunity to meet your friends and assess which one had the most information, his job was suddenly easier than he initially thought.

“Y/n!” He says as he approaches you, a friendly smile on his lips, not one sign that he was up to no good. “And we run into each other again, this time without any coffee spilling incident,” You smile as you see him, you never thought that you would see him again, but here he was.

“Taeyang!” You say and break away from your friends to go greet him. “I didn’t think we had high chances of running into each other again,” He smiles at you and looks past you at your friends. “Oh, let me introduce you.”

“Wait, is this the guy you were telling us about?” Jaeyoon asks as he steps closer to you. “The one with the pretty sparkling eyes and the sunshine smile?” You could feel heat rising to your chest and reach over to hit his chest.

“Shut up, I didn’t say that,” You mutter. Youngbin steps behind Jaeyoon, looking Taeyang up and down. “These are my two friends, the other one is busy right now, but I’m sure if we keep running into each other you will meet him also,” He nods his head, not completely paying attention to you. “This is Jaeyoon and Youngbin, Youngbin is on vacation from his duties,” He nods his head, taking mental notes. “Guys, this is Taeyang, I accidentally spilt my coffee on him a few days ago.”

“Sparkling eyes,” Jaeyoon says to taunt you just a little more, you reach out to push him, only for him to step back and you to almost stumble forward, if it was for Taeyang that reacted quickly, grabbing onto you and holding you back, you would have. He had no idea why he had done that, he could have left you to tumble to the ground.

“Oh!” You gasp. You feel his arm around your middle and feel his front pressing into your side. “Oh, flip, thank you,” You quickly say and get your footing. He slowly pulls his arm back, feeling something strange inside him, he hadn’t quite experienced this feeling yet, and he wasn’t sure what to make of them.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you to accidentally face plant,” He says. You slowly nod your head, trying to calm your racing heart. Gosh, he smelt so damn good also. Jaeyoon looks between you both, a smile starting to grow on his lips.

“We’re all planning on going to the carnival tonight, if you want to join us,” Jaeyoon suggest. “Our other friend will be there as well if you want to come?” Taeyang slowly looks away from you, trying to shake the feeling that was going through him.

“I’ll meet everyone at the entrance tonight, then,” He says. You smile at him as you move to Youngbin’s side to nudge him.

“Sounds like a plan,” Youngbin says, finally speaking up. He and Taeyang look at each other for a few seconds before Taeyang takes a step back and walks away from you and your friends.

“Can’t you be a little nicer?” You whisper. He looks down at you, his features softening. “He’s new to town, make him feel a little more welcomed?”

“I can try, but I can’t promise anything,” He says. “Something… feels off about him,” And maybe you should have taken Youngbin’s words more seriously. It could have spared you a ton of heartache.

Taeyang approaches you and your group of friends, seeing an extra face along with you and Jaeyoon’s arm around you. Which makes him pause in his step for a moment. Were you dating him, perhaps? Or were you just friends? He would need to find out before even trying to seduce you further, he didn’t want to mess up the mission before it even properly started.

“There he is,” Jaeyoon calls out and releases you. “You made it,” Taeyang nods his head and gives you a smile.

“I wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity to make some friends,” He says. You couldn’t help but smile as he looks at you. “I don’t think we’ve met yet,” He quickly turns his attention to the third person that had joined you. “I’m Taeyang.”

“Inseong,” Inseong introduces himself. “I’m sorry for being late to meeting the sunshine smile also,” You quickly turn towards him and push him, making him chuckle. If there was one thing Taeyang had already noticed about you, it was that you were close and playful with your friends, he at least hoped that was all that they were to you.

“It’s the second time I’ve heard that today, you must have talked about me a lot,” He says as he turns his gaze back to you. You wave your hand in the air as you feel a heat going up your neck and towards your cheeks.

“They’re full of nonsense, don’t believe them,” You say, trying to wave it off. “We should get inside before it gets packed,” You quickly turn away to hide your flustered state and make your way to the entrance gate. Taeyang quickly jogs after you, wanting to make sure that your attention was on him. Not only did he need to earn your trust, but if you trusted him, then your friends would trust him.

“Wait, hold up,” He says. “Let me pay for you,” He reaches for his wallet. “I’ll pay for everything tonight,” He knew that he needed your trust, he had approached you first, and he needed your trust first before your friends would trust him and have him become part of their inner circle.

“Ohh, are you sure you’re not dating?” Inseong asks as he comes up from behind you both. “Can you pay for me too?” You look at Inseong, if looks could kill, he would have been six feet under by now. “No? All right, next time them,” He quickly says and backs off, which made Taeyang chuckle.

“I’ll pay for everyone’s entrance,” He says. You couldn’t help but smile at his generosity, little did you know, it was all a plot. “But for her, I’m paying everything for.”

“Hmm, yeah, just admit it right now that you love her,” Inseong says. “We won’t be mad,” Taeyang looks back at Jaeyoon as you approach the entrance.

“No, but you just gotta mean it,” Jaeyoon says. “Otherwise you will get a beating if you hurt her,” Taeyang quickly looks at you, only for you to hold your arm out for a band to be wrapped around it that would allow you access into the carnival. “You won’t do that, will you?” Taeyang begins taking out several banknotes before handing them to the person and gesturing to everyone in the group.

“No, no, why would I want to hurt her?” He asks. He felt nervous, almost like he had already been caught. Had someone caught on? Was he in danger of failing the missing?

“I don’t know… but it doesn’t hurt to ask and be sure, does it?” Jaeyoon asks as they wrap a band around his arm. “But don’t be a dick like others had been to her in the past,” And then he went inside to find you and make sure you hadn’t abandoned them already. Taeyang quickly got his band and moves inside to find you, being rocked by Jaeyoon’s words.

“I thought he saw right through me for a minute,” Taeyang mutters to himself before he pauses when he sees you at the ball toss stand, but Jaeyoon was behind you, helping you aim. He could feel something strange inside his bubble, was he jealous? No, he possibly couldn’t be, he doesn’t even know you. He moves towards you both. “I’ll take over from here,” Jaeyoon looks at him and nods his head.

“Y/n, call me if you want to go home,” Jaeyoon says. You nod your head and feel his warmth disappear before feeling it replaced by Taeyang’s. He waited until he was sure Jaeyoon was out of earshot.

“Are you two dating?” He asks. “I want to be sure and not try and shoot my shot if I don’t stand a chance,” You let his hand covers yours and have him guide you to throw the ball. You knew how to do it, but every time you protested against the help, they would only insist more.

“No,” You say. “But we are very close,” He guides your hand to toss the ball, and you watch it fall into the middle lane. “So, he’s a bit worried,” Taeyang hums before moving away from you and grabbing several balls.

“Let me win the biggest prize for you.” He says. You smile and take a step back, giving him space to throw. You watch as he aims for the far lane and tosses. “I’ll easily get it for you,” He says once the ball landed in it. He needed to impress you tonight and get the biggest prizes to have you falling for him.

“You might, that was good,” You say. “Did you practice beforehand?” You jokingly ask, making him chuckle and toss another one.

“No, no, I just have a good aim,” He says. You watch his hand closely, seeing veins appear on it as he throws ball after ball, each of them landing in the far lane. “What do you want?” He asks, interrupting your running thoughts. “Did I impress you also?” You slowly nod your head before pointing towards one of the large plush. He quickly gets it and hands it to you. “How did you become friends with them?”

“I knew Jaeyoon since we were little, he was much older than I was, but we ended up getting close, and so he introduced me to them, and we just…” You trail off, he nods his head. So you must not know much about the project the three of them were part of. “Is it strange for me to be just friends with men?”

“No, no,” He quickly says. “If the friendship works for you, then it works for you,” You nod your head and quiet down, letting your thoughts run a bit wild. “But… I’ll admit I’m a little jealous seeing how close you are with them,” You lift your head to look at him. “And it makes me wonder… if you would ever consider me that close of a person one day?” You couldn’t help but smile.

“You want to become as close to me as they are?” You ask. He nods his head.

“Closer if possible,” He adds on. And you wished you could just pause time, to let his words sink in completely, but alas, time continued to move as you smiled goofily at him. He looks past you at a stall. “Here, let me get this for you,” He pulls you towards the stall before you could protest, you only wanted the giant plush, and now he was getting more things for you, things you didn’t necessarily want.

You were sitting underneath a tree, watching the leaves rustle from the wind blowing, you were enjoying the windy day and some time to yourself. You absolutely loved when the weather was windy and not too hot, it meant you could enjoy the day without worrying about sweating too much, you could see the clouds passing overhead and take shape of different forms.

“I didn’t think I would find you here,” You hear, you lift your head and look towards the person that spoke to you and watch as the wind ruffles his hair and blow it over his eyes. Why did he always have to look this good? “But I’m glad I ran into you,” He moves to sit down next to you, and you watch as he reaches into the pocket of his jacket.

“I like coming here and sitting here,” You say. “It’s really nice when the wind is blowing and the weather is nice like this,” He nods his head, not completely paying attention to what you were saying. You watch as he pulls out a squared box.

“I remember you mentioned liking rings, so I got this for you,” He says. You take the box from his hand, curious about what was inside it. You had mentioned to him that you liked rings and would love to get yourself a ring with an emerald stone, even if it was a fake emerald stone. You open the box and found a diamond ring inside it. “I can’t afford a real diamond right now, but I hope the thought counts,” You bite the inside of your cheeks and close the box.

“Thank you so much for this,” You say and place the box next to your legs. “You didn’t have to get it for me,” You give him a smile, a little deflated it wasn’t the one you mentioned, but it was the thought that counted. “I will make sure to put it somewhere safe when I get home,” You didn’t want to seem ungrateful, because you weren’t, you were thankful for the gift, and you would put it on your dresser when you got home with the other jewellery you didn’t wear.

You continue to receive gifts like that, almost as if he was only half listening to you and not hearing everything you would tell him, which was making you feel disheartened, but you appreciated the gifts, even though you didn’t need them or want them. Taeyang was slowly starting to realize that the gifts he was getting for you weren’t impressing you much, he had seen them pile up on your dresser or inside a drawer of your dresser, and not once have you worn the ring he had bought for you, and he was starting to feel guilty about it, about not listening to you, and slowly he started to feel like he wanted to listen to you and get you the things you wanted.

You and Taeyang were walking in the park, and you were expecting another grand gift from him any moment now, it had become a habit for him to give you something when you both would spend time together.

“I was thinking, wondering more,” He begins to say. “Is there a place that you would actually want to go, visit, that you haven’t yet?” You tilt your head slightly and look skywards for a moment.

“Hmm, the beach, there’s this beach about four hours from here, and I would love to visit it,” You say. “I heard the shells are beautiful and want to watch the sunset,” He nods his head, this time, making a mental note about it. “Maybe one day.”

“Hopefully that one day is soon,” He says. “Maybe I can take you myself one of these days,” You smile softly had him.

“That could be nice,” You say. “Although you don’t need to, I’ll get there someday,” A strong gust of wind blows past you both, and you watch his hair becoming a mess before it settles back into place, only slightly disbelieving. “Why is it that every time the wind messes up your hair, it still looks cute and decent?” He chuckles at your question.

“I can’t explain that,” He says. “I wish I could, but I can’t,” You nod your head and watch as a few petals and leaves fall from the trees. “I’m sorry if this is… personal, but Jaeyoon mentioned past men being assholes to you,” You nod your head and bite the inside of your cheeks, remembering the words you were called. “What did they do, if you want to share?” You were almost surprised he wasn’t pushing you for an answer, usually, he would push a little more for you to answer, but this time… He didn’t.

“Because I’m so close to Jaeyoon, and the others,” You begin to say. “They would automatically assume I was easy, and when I rejected their request to sleep with them…” He suddenly stops and grabs your hand, pulling you towards him, a sudden feeling of anger bubbling inside him.

“What did they do?” He asks, his tone sounding cold, and it sent a shiver up your spine, his face was completely hard, and it looked like he was a completely different person.

“I… they called me names and said the only reason I didn’t want to sleep with them was that I already had enough men to satisfy me,” You say. Taeyang knew that they most likely used different words as you just said, and he had an idea what they had called you. “Jaeyoon once had to step in when one of them started to threaten me,” Taeyang could feel anger bubbling up inside him, he was absolutely pissed that you had experienced that with a bunch of lowlifes. And then it suddenly hits him… He was using you, you didn’t know what he was and why he had suddenly shown up out of the blue, he was no better than those men.

You had admitted to yourself that you were head-over-heels in love with Yoo Taeyang, but would you ever confess it out loud? No, but Inseong insisted that he liked you back, telling you that there was a reason why he kept getting you gifts, and meaningful gifts as of late, but you only told him that he’s just saying that because he and Taeyang had got close during the last few weeks, In which he denied loudly, saying that it wasn’t the case, but of course, you didn’t believe him.

Taeyang on the other hand was slowly becoming conflicted with his mission, should he send all the information he had gathered to his headquarters or betray them? He had no idea anymore, you, at first, started as just a random person, an afterthought to what would happen if he used you, but after spending the last few months with you, getting to know you, he had found himself actually falling for you. And suddenly his mission wasn’t as easy as it initially was.

The way your eyes shined in the sunlight, and the way they lit up when you saw something you liked, captured him, and held him mesmerised. The way your smile caused him to smile, even when he didn’t want to, your smile was just contagious, just like your laugh, he couldn’t help but laugh with you when you did. You had captured his heart without him realising it until it was too late.

“The daffodil means rebirth, it’s good for apologising to someone,” The store owner says. “While the forget-me-not’s symbolise respect and true love,” Taeyang nods his head as he held both penguins in his hands. Guilt was eating up at him, and he was trying to figure out how he would tell you that he was not who he was, but that his feelings are indeed true.

“I think I’ll go with this one for now,” He says, and hands the store owner one of the penguin plushes. He puts the other one back on the shelf and looks at the flower chart on the wall. The penguins each held a different flower, and he had paid attention to what you had told him a few days prior. He wanted to get this gift for you, and then he had to find a way to tell you, that he was someone completely different.

“I’ve got a little gift for you,” He says as you let him into your apartment. “Your roommate isn’t home, right?” You shake your head as you close the door.

“As usual, but I’m not complaining,” You say as you follow him to the couch, you had noted the medium-sized box in his hands. “What have you got in there?” He turns to you and extends his arms out to you. You take the box from him and slowly undo the bindings from around it. You sit down on the couch and place the box in your lap and carefully lift the lid off. “Oh…” A tiny little penguin plush lay inside, and it was holding a daffodil or looked like it was. “Oh, this is adorable,” You carefully take it out and move the box onto the floor to inspect it. He sits down next to you and watches you. “Tyang, this is so cute,” You had always received jewellery from him, but today… it was something you had mentioned. The daffodil, however, wasn’t something you had mentioned.

“They didn’t have any penguins with forget-me-not’s,” He says. You could feel your heart flutter, he had listened to you. “But I will search for one until I can find one,” You smile as you let your eyes roam over the small penguin before seeing a little note sticking from one of the petals.

“A note also?” You ask as you reach for it and carefully take it off. “Ohh, this is so cute,” You open the small paper and see tiny words scribbled onto it. “Did you write this?”

“I tried, but the paper was a little small for my big hands,” He says. You chuckle and read the three letters on the tiny note.

“I love you…” You whisper. You couldn’t help but let a soft smile form on your lips. The fact that the last few gifts you had received from him were things you wanted, and needed, made your heart feel warm, and although he might have been moving a little fast, you didn’t mind. He had listened to you. Heard you. “Taeyang…” You begin, only to be cut off by a knock on your door. You give him an apologetic look and stood from the couch, making your way to the door. You pull open the door and were greeted by your three friends, and they didn’t look like their friendly usual self.

“Y/n… he’s a spy,” Youngbin says. The moment those words left his lips, Taeyang’s eyes widen, and he stood from the couch, catching the attention of the three of them. “He’s a damn spy, sent to gather intel on us,” Youngbin enters your apartment, Inseong and Jaeyoon following behind him, you, however, remained frozen. “He’s been using us for his own gain.”

“I can explain,” Taeyang quickly says. This was not how he wanted this to go. “Let me explain,” He looks at you, concern in his eyes as if you hadn’t moved since the news broke. “Y/n, let me explain myself,” You slowly turn towards him, his heart breaking at the sight of tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

“Did you… use me to get to my friends?” You whisper, hoping desperately to keep your tears in. “Was it all a lie?” You watch as he swallows, he was surrounded, cornered. But the truth had come out, not the way he wanted to… But now he had to come clean about everything, even the bits he had wanted to keep for himself.

“At… at first I was, at first, but that’s not how it is now,” He says, his words almost coming out rushed. You clutch onto the plush, the moment you had only moments ago, disappearing in front of your eyes. “Y/n… it’s different now,” He tries to take a step forward, only to get blocked by Jaeyoon and Youngbin. “Y/n…”

“So… all of this, all of what we had, built… all lies?” You ask. You could feel your heart breaking into a million pieces. “All of it… even this?” You lift the plush, and he shakes his head, feeling his heart racing. He was on the verge of losing you, and he didn’t want that.

“No, no, I wasn’t going to,” He says. “I changed my mind, I wasn’t going to…” You throw the plush in his direction, the toy hits him square in the chest before plummeting to the floor.

“You’re a traitor!” You say loudly with a sob followed. “You never fucking cared, these are lies!” He could feel tears forming in his own eyes, but he had caused this. He had hurt you. “All of this, what we had, are all based upon lies!” And then you turn, taking off and running down the hallway of your own apartment building, needing to leave.

“No, wait!” He tries to go after you, only to be stopped by Youngbin and Jaeyoon. “No, no!” He was pushed back, and he could feel you slipping away from him as they held him back. “Y/n!” Inseong moves closer to them.

“Go after her, I’ll help,” Inseong says. Jaeyoon looks at Youngbin before bolting towards the door to go find you. “And you, I thought we were friends, but you do this to us,” He was pushed to sit down on the couch. “What have you shared?”

“Nothing,” Taeyang says. “Nothing, I wanted to… but I couldn’t…” His eyes move to the open door, only for Youngbin to move in his view. “I swear, I’ll give everything I took, every memory stick, every hard drive, everything back to you,” Youngbin leans down to be eye-level with him. “Raid my place, I don’t care… but make sure that she’s okay… I need her to be okay,” Youngbin places a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you actually like her or something?” He asks as he glares at Taeyang. Taeyang nods his head and slumps back against the backrest.

“I do…” He whispers. “And I’ll do anything to be sure that she’s safe,” Youngbin and Inseong look at each other for a moment before looking back at him.

“Anything?” Inseong asks. Taeyang nods his head. “Would you betray your own people for her?” And without hesitation, Taeyang nodded.

“What do you want to know?” He asks. “What do you need to know?” His mind made up on the spot, everything he had once stood for now crumbling and withering into nothing.

Days passed and nobody had heard from you, Jaeyoon couldn’t find you when he had gone after you, it was like you had vanished into thin air. And Taeyang was absolutely losing it. He was constantly at your apartment to see if you would return, but not once did you. And your phone was still on charge in the kitchen where you had left it when you ran. Nobody knew how to find you.

During this entire time, Taeyang was constantly monitored, to make sure he wouldn’t return to his people and spill everything, but not once did he, he even ended up giving all the information he knew to Inseong, and what he did with it, Taeyang didn’t care, he just wanted to find you, make sure that you were all right and weren’t harmed. But he knew that he didn’t stand a chance with you anymore, he had betrayed your trust, and your feelings and in the process, broke your heart, and his as well. And he wasn’t sure if he could mend it and make it better. He had fucked up, big time.

And then he remembered you mentioning the beach you wanted to go to, it was a long shot, but he decided to drive down to the beach, hoping that you would be there. As he climbed out of the car he could see you standing near the shore, watching over the waves, it was already getting late during the day and the sun would set soon. He makes his way towards you, his mind running a thousand miles an hour.

You hear footsteps getting closer to you, but you never thought or suspected that you had been found. You had gone to the beach as a getaway, not only to clear your head and think about everything but also to have a different scenery and to see it for the first time as well, you were hurt by what had happened. Not once had you been used like that, and you felt utterly broken. You didn’t even want to face your friends, feeling embarrassed that you had caused someone, a spy, to get information against them. You felt lucky enough that you had your wallet with you, at least before you had run.

“Y/n…” Taeyang softly says. You turn around and look at him, the memories of that day rushing back to you. You begin to back up, but you had nowhere to go besides into the ocean, and that was not where you wanted to go when trying to get away. He stops in his tracks, not wanting you to run again and disappear once again. “Y/n… please.”

“How did you find me?” You ask. Shocked that he did, none of your friends had found you yet, how had he?

“I remember you told me about this beach, how you wanted to come here,” He says. And you would kick yourself in the ass if you could.

“You remembered that?” You ask. “Was that also part of the lies you told us?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did. “Was this also going to be part of your master seduction plan?” If glaring could kill someone, he might have been dead by now.

“No,” He quickly says, feeling his heart being shattered by your harsh words. “No, that was never part of it,” He wants to take a step forward. “In the beginning, when we met…”

“That… our meeting, you planned that also,” You mutter. “Because no way would a person like you willingly buy a new coffee for a person like me,” This causes him to frown.

“What do you mean, a person like me and a person like you?” He asks. This time he does take a step forward, and before you could move away, his hands were gripping onto your arms, holding you in place. “When we met, I never had intentions of falling in love with you, I didn’t… I only had my mission in mind, and then I would disappear once I had what I wanted,” You lift your forearms to try and push him off. “But then… I got to know you, I fell for you, for real…”

“I don’t believe that,” You mutter and avoid eye contact. You could feel your eyes burning with tears. “How can I believe you when everything I knew about you was built with lies upon lies?”

“I… I don’t know how I will make you believe me,” He says. “But I will try my damn hardest to convince you, to let you know that I do…” He tries to follow your eyes to make you look at him. “So I don’t know what you mean by a person like me and a person like you…”

“Someone like you… would never fit with a someone like me,” You mutter. “It's like finding something cheap online and then afterwards realising you’ve been scammed,” He lets out a sigh. He caused this, he caused you to think like this.

“Y/n… a person like you… deserves someone that doesn’t lie to you, that doesn’t use you for information like I did…” He slowly says. “But here I am… hoping that you could give me a chance, a real chance, to show you… that I care about you, and deeply as well,” You try and get loose from his grip, but to no avail. “Please… give me that chance, I know I don’t deserve it… but please, I’m begging you,” You suck your lower lip between your teeth, you didn’t want to, but yet… you wanted to, just to see if he really cared about you. But you didn’t want to be left heartbroken once more.

“Taeyang… I… You hurt me,” You whisper. “I can’t forget that, or forgive that so easily…” He nods his head, understanding where you were coming from. “At least give me time to think, and clear my head a little more,” He nods his head slowly, he would give you that space, he would give you that time to think.

“I’ll give you that…” He whispers. “But you need to go back, our friends are worried about you,” You look away from him, you didn’t want to face them, in fact, you wanted to completely distance yourself from them, you had let them down by letting a spy near them. “They’re worried about you, not mad… You need to go back,” His hold on you loosens. “You need to go home…” You slowly nod your head and look down at the ground. “Let me take you home, and then I’ll give you the space…”

“Okay…” You whisper. He slowly releases you and you both make your way to his car. He opens the passenger side for you, and you climb in, once he is sure you were in, he closes the door and walks around and climbs in.

“Do you want to listen to music?” He asks. “It’s going to be a long drive back,” You take in a deep breath, thinking it over, it was going to be a long drive back, so you might as well try and talk to him, try and figure out why he chose to target you and not just go straight to your friends.

“If it's a long drive back, then you can maybe explain to me why me and why not just straight up approach them?” You ask and fasten your safety. “Otherwise I’ll just sit here and drive myself crazy with my thoughts,” He starts the engine, and he slowly backs out of the parking space. “Was I just the easiest route?” He could feel himself shrinking in his seat.

“When you say it out loud… like that, it sounds even worse,” He says. You nod your head and move your hands down to your lap. “But… yes, I believed you were the easiest way to gain their trust,” You bite the insides of your cheeks. “I was watching you interact with them and knew that you were close to them, and they would trust me faster if I befriended you.”

“That’ll teach me,” You whisper and move your gaze towards the window to look out from it. He glances at you as he stops at a stop sign before driving again.

“But… it wasn’t the easiest route in the end,” He says. “Because I hurt you, I broke your trust, your heart… something I held carelessly in my hands for so long before I realised how precious it actually is,” You could feel tears brimming in your eyes. “And I wished I realised sooner how precious you were, I wish I never made you the target because my chances with you, are most likely gone for good,” You sniff, and he could feel his heartbreaking at that sound. “And I’ll never be able to apologize enough for doing that, I’ll always carry this with me.”

“You’ll fall in love with someone again…” You whisper. “Me, on the other hand… I think I should just stay single and alone forever, that way I protect myself and my friends,” He stops at a red light.

“Who says I want to fall in love with someone else?” He asks. “What I did to you, that will never leave me, when you found out, your face, the horror and betrayal on it when I think of that…” You lean your head against the window. “I’m sorry for hurting, I know that it won’t make it better, but I’m sorry,” You take in a deep breath and close your eyes.

“I’m more disappointed than sad or angry,” You whisper. “In myself, for falling for it… for falling for you, how naive of me,” You sigh out and move your head away from the window and lean it against the headrest. He begins driving again, turning off onto the highway. He felt awful about what he had done to you. “That day… with the plush, was that a spy tool or was it really to apologize with the daffodil?”

“It was to apologize,” He mutters. “I was feeling guilty, they had the plush with the forget-me-not’s but… the flower meanings caught my eye, I didn’t think you would know,” You slowly nod your head and open your eyes to look at the road ahead.

“I didn’t… until I went to go ask a florist,” You say. He nods his head, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. “Even if you had come clean about it on your own, it would have hurt, but I believe it would have been slightly better than hearing it from someone else,” You blink and feel the tears finally spilling from your eyes. “Not by much, because I’m basically a traitor to my friends also.”

“You’re not,” He quickly says. “I can guarantee you, you’re not,” He could feel a lump forming in his throat. “They came to want you, their first instinct was to protect you, they know you didn’t betray them, they know I approached you, they know everything,” You let out a sigh.

“Still… I feel horrible about the situation,” You mutter. You take in a deep breath and slowly blow it out. “All planned out, everything from the start…” You sniff as you try and keep your nose from running, the lump only growing bigger in your throat.

“I can plan out an apology, I can plan something else out to try and make it up to you,” He says. You let out a sigh and close your eyes.

“It’s whatever, Taeyang, it’s whatever,” You mumble. And he wanted nothing more than to reach over to you and squeeze your hand, but he knew right now, you wouldn’t want that, not from him at least.

The ride back was indeed long, you slowly spoke more to him, slowly saw the reason why he did what he did, but still couldn’t accept his reason for it. You even told him to go straight for the target next time instead of going for someone else, to which he replied; he doesn’t plan on doing it again. You only nodded before closing the car door and making your way into your apartment building, with him not far behind you, wanting to be sure that you actually went back to meet with your friends.

“Y/n!” Jaeyoon says once you open the door. He quickly jumps up and makes his way to you. “Do you know how worried we were about you?” He throws his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “Where have you been?” Your face was squished against his chest.

“Jae, your boobs are killing me!” You say. His grip loosens before you wrap your arms around him. “I was at the beach, the one I wanted to go to,” You look past Jaeyoon and saw Inseong and Youngbin sitting on your couch, looking past you, most likely at Taeyang. “The one time he actually listened to me when I spoke…” You jokingly say before pulling away from the hug.

“We’re idiots, why didn’t we think of it?” Inseong asks. He walks towards you. “You’re not harmed, hurt, dehydrated?” He begins looking you over, trying to find any kind of bruising on you. “You look a little dehydrated.”

“I’m fine, Inseong, I had my wallet with me,” You say. He nods his head and looks past you at Taeyang. You kept your back towards him. “I want to apologise for the mess, I’m sorry I brought him into our circle…”

“It’s not your fault,” Youngbin immediately speaks up. “It was planned until almost the final detail,” He walks up to you and places a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, you didn’t see it coming,” You nod your head, still not feeling convinced that it wasn’t. “Have you eaten much?”

“I’ll still order something,” Jaeyoon quickly interrupts. “You probably didn’t think much about eating, did you?” He knew when you became upset, food was on the last thing on your mind. “I’ll order your favourite,” He fishes his phone from his pocket. You slowly turn around to look at Taeyang. Unsure if you should thank him for bringing you back or tell him to leave.

“He gave us everything back,” Inseong says. You stay unmoving as you look at him. “If you want him to stay for dinner, we won’t mind,” You finally turn away from him and look at Inseong.

“He can do what he wants,” You say, putting up a brave face. “I’m going to go change my clothes, it's been too long since I had on clean clothes,” He nods his head, and you walk past him and towards your room. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to stay for the late dinner or leave, you were conflicted about everything at the moment, but one thing to you was certain, you couldn’t trust him anymore, and you weren’t sure if you ever could.

Weeks pass and Taeyang dropped by your apartment every day with food, at least once a week he would bring you fresh flowers, you tried not to let him in, but you were slowly letting him back in, cautiously, there was always that little voice telling you to be careful of him, reminding you what he had done.

“A date is supposed to be to get to know someone,” You say. “And I’m not sure if I know anything about you really,” Taeyang nods his head as he looks at you, you both stood in the park on the windy day. “We should start with that because it honestly feels like you’re a stranger to me.”

“Where would you like to go?” He asks. He would do anything to regain your trust because he had finally admitted to himself that he has been head-over-heels in love with you.

“I won’t be giving you a hint,” You say. “I think I gave enough when I trusted you,” He nods his head and looks down at your feet.

“Would the aquarium be a safe spot?” He softly asks. You almost smiled, almost, he did remember the things you said. “I heard there’s a late night tonight if you want to go.”

“When do you want to leave?” You ask, sounding a little too eager. “I mean… I’m free tonight, I’m sure of it, I’ll need to make sure in my schedule,” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your sudden change to not sound excited.

“If your schedule allows it, we can leave now,” He says and gives you a smile. You nod your head and take out your phone, you pretend to go through your schedule and nod your head.

“It's all clear for tonight,” You say. “We can go, do I need to take anything with me?”

“No, no need, I’ll pay for our entrance,” He says. “I have a jacket if you get cold also,” You nod your head and make your way to his car. “It’s a date after all, so it’s on me,” Yo softly smile before lowering your gaze to the ground as you walk. For the first time in a while, Taeyang felt like he had an actual chance to win your heart, a real chance to do that.

Upon arriving at the aquarium, he pays for your admission fee and you both begin making your way through the aquarium, starting with the stingray tank. He stays by your side as he watches you, while you watch everything with wonder and amazement on your face. He couldn’t help but smile at your liking of sea life.

“Here is a little fun fact for you,” You say as you enter a darker room, and you could see some larger fish swimming in a lit-up tank. “I wanted to be a marine biologist,” You look back at him.

“Really?” He asks. You nod your head. “What happened?” Your smile fades a little as you turn away from him to look at the fish.

“My maths were extremely low, and I wasn’t accepted,” You say. He moves closer to you, his arm pressing against your shoulder. “But it’s okay, I can still appreciate sea life, even if I can’t work with them,” He softly smiles and looks at your face and finds a small smile on your lips. “Come on, the next room is penguins,” Before you could move, he grabbed onto your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours.

“Can I hold your hand?” He asks. You look down at his hand enclosed around yours and slowly nod your head.

“As long as you can keep up,” You say and look up at him before pulling him into the next room. A giant glass was separating the visitors to the penguin exhibit, and several penguins were swimming in the water while a few were sitting on rocks. “They’re so cute.”

“They are…” He whispers, his eyes on you the entire time. He knew you meant the penguins, but he meant you. “I hope you’re not about to tell me their most known fact,” He jokingly says, which makes you smile.

“I would have been concerned if you didn’t know that fact,” You say as you look at him. “Then I would have needed to bring you back during the school tours, so you can learn a little also,” He laughs and softly squeezes your hand. “The little tuxedo they also wear,” He could see the stars in your eyes as you looked at the penguins. You release his hand, and he almost reaches back for it until he saw you waddling in a circle.

“Are you a little penguin now?” He asks with a chuckle as he watches you. “Here, let me join you,” He begins waddling with you, leaving you in a fit of giggles. He couldn’t help but smile at hearing you laugh, his heart performed a flip when he heard it. You reach for his hand and waddle your way closer to the giant glass. You didn’t care if people stared, you were enjoying yourself, and hearing him laugh and seeing him smile was making you just as happy. You finally calm down and lay your head against his shoulder.

“I think we should move onto the next exhibit,” You sigh out, feeling out of breath from all the waddling you did. He squeezes your hand and you both make your way into the next exhibit, which was dark and the only light came from tanks, which were also colourful neon ones. You both walk slowly through it, the light illuminating both of you. You stop in front of one of the tanks to look inside at the jellyfish. You feel him lean down next to you, and you turn your head and found his face only inches away from yours, his breath hits your skin, letting you know how close he was.

“You don’t need to say anything right now, or ever,” He begins in a whisper. “But I feel like I should tell you and get this off my chest,” You blink as you listen to him, feeling your heart rate pick up. “But I do care for you, deeply, I want to see you happy… and if your happiness doesn’t include me, I’m okay with that… but I’m in love with you, Y/n,” You softly gasp at his confession, you weren’t expecting it.

“I… Taeyang…” You stutter out. “I… I need time,” You whisper, he nods his head. “I need to think… everything over, everything through.”

“Take your time, I’m in no rush for an answer from you,” He says. “But you deserve to know about my feelings for you,” You nod your head. “Before you… all I knew was what I was told, but you changed a lot of things for me, you changed my perspective on things, made me turn over a new leaf in my life.”

“Taeyang…” You whisper.

“Yes?” He says.

“That’s starting to sound super cheesy,” You say. He nods his head and gives you a sheepish smile. “But I understand what you mean, I do, just give me time to think, okay?” He nods his head once again, you smile at him before leaning away from him and tugging on his arm. “Next is the sharks…”

You make your way towards the gift shop, just to browse, but he ended up buying you a big penguin as a reminder of the fun you had in the penguin exhibit, as you were going back to your place, you ended up with street food for dinner and his jacket draped over your shoulders to protect you from the cold, even though you weren’t cold, he insisted you put it over your shoulders. As he stops in front of your building, you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“About what you said at the aquarium,” You begin to say. “I’ve been in love with you since before the… well, yeah, and I can try to dislike you or ignore the feelings, they will never go away…” He turns the engine off to his car and adjusts his body to face you. “Know that there is still a long road ahead with trust,” He nods his head. “But… my feelings won’t disappear for you, so… maybe we should try dating… If that’s what you want, of course.”

“It is,” He was quick to answer you. “It’s what I want, I want to date you, call you mine,” You lick your lips and nod your head. “So… you’re willing to give me a chance if I asked you?”

“Hmm… yes,” You whisper. You watch as his eyes light up and a smile forms on his lips.

“I will work hard to rebuild your trust in me completely,” He says. You nod your head. “And I will try my best to make you happy every day,” He reaches for your hand. “I wish we had more space, but, will you officially be with me?”

#yoo taeyang scenarios #yoo taeyang scenario #yoo taeyang imagines #yoo taeyang imagine #yoo taeyang one shot #yoo taeyang oneshot #yoo taeyang oneshots #yoo taeyang one shots #sf9 imagines #sf9 imagine #sf9 oneshots #SF9 oneshot #sf9 one shot #sf9 one shots #sf9 scenario #sf9 scenarios

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silvvergears · 6 months ago

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/crashes into the chat/ I heard Jariel Fanfiction lmao

So! The main places to look for Jariel fic are AO3 and ffNet (I've braved Wattpad, did not find anything noteworthy, the tagging system there is crap, there, I said it.)

DISCLAIMER: These are my personal favorites, this is not a statement on the quality of any fics that are not mentioned here! There are some that are simply not to my taste. There are some I just haven't read in a while and don't want to recommend w/ my patchy memories! I definitely recommend exploring these sites more yourself and seeing what else is out there!

Finished Jariel Recs on AO3:

Color Girl (T) by WizardlyMagick: Short but sweet soulmates AU where Jim and Ariel only see in black and white until they meet their soulmate! Starshine (T) by snickerdoodlles: Modern AU oneshot! Again, short but sweet story about Jim and Ariel in high school together. The Grumpy Barista Aesthetic™ (T) by Anonymous: They're here! They're queer! They're in a coffee shop AU one-shot where Jim is in distress about learning he's not immune to GrumpyxSunshine Bias! It's a delight. Packed Away (G) by silv3rbloodalch3mist (yes I'm recommending myself, leave me alone lmao): Post-movie one shot about Sarah, Jim, Ariel, and their adopted daughter! Top of the List (T) by silv3rbloodalch3mist: Me again, hi lol. College AU oneshot! Triton and Ariel dynamics! Ariel's Big Dumb Crush On Jim! Eric being generally A Cool Dude!

There's also several in-progress fics on AO3 that I definitely recommend checking out and giving some love, like Moonlighting (M) by unholyciel, Sailing Stars (T) by skeletorwrites, and my fics Ripples Into Waves (T), We're Just An Accident Waiting For A Place To Happen (E), Pull of the Tide (T), and Voulez-Vous? (T)

There's not a lot of action in the comments on these fics bc they are incredibly niche, so when you read something you like, leave it some love! (Believe it or not, Voulez-Vous may be getting updated soon so definitely keep an eye out on that!)

There's a lot more variety on ffNet, but it's also ffNet and the tagging is trash. You *will* be digging through a lot of Jim and M3lody fics, so just do your best with filtering. Also, they're ffNet fics from the 2010s, this is where grammar goes to die. I can get past it, some people can't, your mileage may vary.

Finished Jariel Recs on ffNet:

An Adventure (K+) by Good Gravy: This is a Kingdom Hearts AU and when I say I have the softest spot in the world for this fic, I absolutely mean it. It's just so cute, and Ariel is given the chance to kick some major butt! Treasure City (T) by brit02: Almost a Zelda and the Phantom Hourglass sort of setting? The vibes lean Pirates of the Caribbean with mermaids and magic while very loosely following the story of Treasure Planet, there's a love triangle with some willful miscommunication, a very fun read! His Treasure (T) by Chiban 2: There is an idea in this fic that lives in infamy in my brain and you will know it when you read it lmao. That being said, a fun crossover that merges the two movie canons and explores the "what if" if Ariel had met Jim first! Really cute, has lots of cameos from Ariel's sisters which is fun, Ariel and Jim are Dumb Teenagers which is always hilarious lol Coming Home by iesnoth: If you liked Landlocked, then you've probably already read Coming Home, but it definitely deserves a mention here! Also if I'm gonna rec my own stuff on her ask, I gotta shout Iesnoth out too lmao. A very sweet reunion one-shot set in a similar setting to the aforementioned fic. Tidepool Inquisition (K) by kreite: A cute one-shot in the Little Mermaid canon where Jim and Ariel have a cultural exchange in a tidepool! Super sweet~ Reunited (T) by OceansAria: Drama! Make outs! Elopement! I think it's a hair too long to be considered a drabble, but it's a drabble to me lmao. Second Date (K+) by sultal: Technically not a Jariel fic, but they are heavily featured and I would say romantically get second-billing to Peter and Wendy. The set up for this fic is so much fun, I love stories where the characters live in the parks and get to interact with each other. Has some drama and adventure as well as romance! Diving for Stars (K) by LittleDisneyFreak: Full disclosure, I don't remember the entire plot of this fic, but I know I really liked it and am now planning on rereading it when I get home lmao. It says incomplete, but it is a competed fic. The Palace Guard (T) by PurpleKorea134: This makes it on the list because while it is Not To My Tastes, it is the longest completed Jariel fic on ffNet and there are paragraph breaks when a new character speaks, so I think everyone should give it a try lol. Similar set up to Landlocked, canon setting for both movies meeting in the middle, except Jim is a palace guard and the love triangle happens in the castle lol. The Taking Fantasia (T) Series by sultal: So. I have a real love-hate relationship with this series. The worldbuilding is phenomenal, almost every Disney movie up to the early 2010s shows up. In the second fic Dreamworks and other animated canons get involved, it's a gas. The pacing and drama is great (This is NOT a T fic, by the way, the rating is lying to you this would be rated M on AO3. The series is arguably rated E, there is some DARK THEMES in this series and there is some moments where the gore actually made me queasy). Jim and Wendy's friendship is one of the best things my eyes have beheld and this series is fully responsible for them showing up in some way shape-or-form in almost any Jariel fic I write. Jim's characterization is stunning. The Jariel is SO FUCKING GOOD. This series is also singlehandedly why I hate Peter Pan now. Not the movie, the character. Like, viscerally. If his characterization works for you? You're fucking golden, enjoy the series, you're in for a ride. If it does not? Don't make my mistake. Don't get invested, it will Piss You Off. The third fic in the series has since moved to WattPad and I did not follow it, I have no clue how the third one goes. Proceed at your own risk.

As with AO3, there are also some really great incomplete stories of ffNet I recommend checking out and giving some love to. Another Side, Another Story (T) by Chiban 2 is one in particular I am dying to see continued. There's also Unexpected Journey (K+) by Inali Grimalkin, and From Sky to Sea (T) by Spirit of the Dead.

Also, if you're looking for a comic, I would be remiss not to mention Welcome To Walt Academy by PumpkinHaven! She recently finished moving everything to AO3, but she still has a thriving and active blog and community here on tumblr @welcometowaltacademy . It is mostly a Jackunzel comic, but it is a massive, sprawling story with lots of different plot lines and the Jim and Ariel ones are very good. I honestly am not even sure if Jariel is endgame, but they are extremely cute and Pining Jim is always a treat. Plus, this comic, like the Taking Fantasia series, got me hooked on a new Jim brotp and I absolutely LOVE Jim and Aladdin's friendship in this comic, it's just the best. The whole thing gives the vibe of youtube AMVs with all the characters edited together, and it's actually so astonishing all the work and love that has gone into this series.

This post is so long, but I'm glad to highlight a few of my favorite Jariel stories that I keep coming back to! I'm sure if I dived into deviantart, I could probably find some more, but reading fic on that site has never felt natural to me so I have not dared. Again, these are just the ones that I know or remember best, and I definitely recommend looking through those sites yourself and trying some of the other fics I didn't highlight! Mileage will vary, but there's a lot out there if you know where to look!

(And so, SO many uses of the song "Why Should I Worry". I swear it is haunting this ship.)

Hi so recently I've become a huge jariel shipper thanks to your content and literally have looked at everything by you. Your art, your fic Landlocked, even Ocean's aria! I was wondering if by any chance there were any other fics/comics you'd recommend because i literally don't know where else to look! Love your work by the way!

Ahhhh yes welcome to our very very small club, yes.

Ocean's Aria is a deep cut. I still love the concept.

I don't know where else to look either! I'm very picky about fanfic (a me problem), and I haven't seen any comics of them. I'm always been more of an amv person. It's how I got started on Jariel, all those years ago...

So here's my Jariel playlist. It's incomplete, but I've opened it to collaborators so you can add your favorites. there are some really good ones on there! Broken Road is the very first one I saw, and I think it set some standards for Ariel/Jim edits back in the day.

#jariel

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bluehoodiewoozi · 3 years ago

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THIRTEEN DAYS, THIRTEEN ALTERNATE UNIVERSES

Introducing a special event to celebrate the end of my last school break before graduation! And partly so I can procrastinate writing my final paper. The goal is to write one au per day and I have not made any actual plans for any other than the first one, so this is pretty spontaneous.

The order and aus are completely random for extra fun. Word count unspecified.

Please do feel free to send in any prompts or ideas for any of the following AUs: my inbox and DMs are very much open! :D

January 16 - BOO SEUNGKWAN - neighbours au

In which you’re starting to think your neighbour’s dog is Cupid in an earthly disguise. [3,5k words /// fluff]

January 18 - LEE CHAN - coffee shop au

In which the cute barista ends up flirting with you out of sheer boredom on a slow day. [1,3k words /// fluff]

January 19 - LEE SEOKMIN - romance novel au

In which he was never supposed to be the one you fall in love with. [2,3k words /// angst]

January 20 - XU MINGHAO - vampire au

In which you should’ve believed the ghost stories when you had the chance. [ 1,7k words /// mild horror with some romance]

January 21 - LEE JIHOON - kdrama au (”I’m Not a Robot”)

In which you have to pretend to be a robot to help your ex-boyfriend. [2,1k words /// romantic comedy]

January 22 - YOON JEONGHAN - flower shop au

In which you work at the flower shop and start finding mysterious bouquets and flowers on your desk. [2,9k words /// romantic comedy]

January 23 - KWON SOONYOUNG - soulmate au

In which your soulmate mark is broken. [1,3k words /// angst but it’s soft]

January 24 - JEON WONWOO - apocalypse au

In which he held on just long enough to protect you. [1k words /// angst]

January 26 - VERNON CHWE - roommates au

In which I forgot how to make full sentences, so here are some headcanons for what it would be like to be roommates with Vernon. [1,3k words /// romantic comedy, sort of]

January 27 - KIM MINGYU - monster hunters au

In which you are paired up with the softest monster hunter around. [1,5k words /// slow-burn-ish, somewhat a romantic comedy]

January 28 - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - greek mythology au

In which you were the only one to really know him. [1,5k words /// mostly angst]

January 29 - JOSHUA HONG - arranged marriage au

In which it’s hard not to fall for him, even in your circumstances. [1,2k words /// fluff]

January 30 - WEN JUNHUI - university au

In which snacks help you make a friend in class. [1,1k words /// strangers to friends]

NB! This post also functions as a masterlist for the event’s fics!

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen au #svt scenarios #seventeen

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domsaysstuff · 2 years ago

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Dom! My love! For the top 5 ask!

Top 5 kisses in KinnPorsche the Series

( @boysbeloving )

Aahhhhhh I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier, as you know - I got sick (then i also have been in a writing frenzy for the past idk two? Days). BUT

Daisy my darling wife! 🥺💞 thank you for this ask so much, i love ya babe from the bottom of my heart 💓

So this was so fucking hard because everytime I thought I had this shit figured out I remembered another kiss and just like that I was like "grrrr i need to start again" because like, all their kisses are ny favorite kisses?

But I think I figured it out (at least for the moment)

1. The Couch Kiss

Like no matter what, the couch kiss just holds my heart and I don't think I will ever get over it. It just a little kiss for the sake of kissing. Also it's hot, also this whole scene just lives in my head rent free. Sue me I'm horny and love casual intimacy

2. Ep7 Bathroom kiss my beloved

Is there anything about this scene that I can say that hasn't been said already? No. Did I rewatched it whole again while taking this screenshot? Yes, yes, yes

We all love it, we all know why it's so high up in the list

(Also can we take a moment to appreciate Kinn's jawline in the mirror in that ss? Like damn)

3. The first kiss - the pier kiss

The kiss that started it all, the kiss that made me fall in love with Kinn alongside Porsche, the kiss that started the beginnings of my coffee shop au, the softest of the softest and every time I watch it I still think of "We'll never have sex" by Leith Ross

4. Episode 6 - the goodbye kiss

It has everything, the love, the yearning, the angst. I was swimming in tears then and I am swimming in tears now, I have a lot of feelings about episode 6 goodbye

5. The final makeout

I don't think I need to explain this choice lmao

Once again thank you so much for this ask my beloved precious bean 💓 i hope you have a good day/night 😘

#ask game #kinnporsche #kinn theerapanyakul #porsche kittisawasd #kinnporsche the series #top 5 things #domanwsersstuff

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lily-blue · 3 years ago

Text

13 reasons why | reason no.1: it has a warm-hearted owner

☆ characters: coffee shop owner!seungcheol & best friend!you (Hoyeon - ‘95 liner) ☆ genre: coffee shop au, best friends to lovers au, fluff ☆ summary: your love for each other with Seungcheol comes so naturally, it’s like it’s been there from the beginning ☆ words: 6,7k ☆ massive thank you: to @dat-town for proofreading this chapter ♥ as always, your comments totally made my day! ☆ dedicated to: @starry-hannie ♥ because i read it somewhere that you’d choose him as your husband from the band and well, this is the softest story i have ever written 👉👈

➼ chapter index

You had first met Choi Seungcheol in your fourth semester in Korea University, during your shared Professional Communications seminar where people from different majors could have learned how to sound more appealing and intelligent than they actually were during business meetings and investor parties. However, you two hadn’t spoken more than a few polite words until one Wednesday morning, after your presentation on the cultural differences in different business etiquettes, professor Im had completely destroyed you with his cross-questions in front of the entire class, and the boy had come to your rescue. According to his confession on the end of exam week party, where you two had drunk to not failing the seminar in spite of Seungcheol’s bravado - the boy had outright called the man out on his disgusting comments on your “charming body language” and “pretty mouth” -, he couldn’t have borne to watch your trembling hands a moment longer once you had tried to hide them behind your back and he had just needed to do something. A couple of drinks in yourself, Seungcheol’s slurred words and dopey smile had urged you to hug him tightly for being such an amazing person and so you had done so until he had blacked out on your shoulder in the middle of a crowded kitchen.

Although that night you yourself hadn’t been quite sober, either, somehow you had taken Seungcheol back to the three-bedroom apartment that he had shared with his two best friends and even stayed for the rest of the night courtesy of Yoon Jeonghan who had been a master manipulator in an innocent-looking body (and who had later on become one of your closest friends, but that was another origin story).

Admittedly, you had thought that your friendship with Seungcheol would expire after a semester or two like how it had already happened in many cases when you had befriended someone in class, but it hadn’t. It had only grown stronger over the years, more accepting and more understanding in a way that it was almost intimate. It had survived not only your final year at KU or the one after graduation when you had been struggling to find a job, but it was still going strong to this day regardless of your capital letter Adult responsibilities.

After you got your first big project at the HR company where you were working full time for over two years, you were a little worried that you wouldn’t have enough energy to meet your friends as frequently as you were used to, but apparently the saying that one could always find time for things that mattered was very much true in your case. Also, your heart kept rejecting the word “no” when it came to Seoungcheol. Like how it did when the man woke you up on a fine Saturday morning and dragged you out of your home with the promise of a fulfilling breakfast, so that you helped him choose the perfect building for his own business: a coffee shop downtown of all things.

Even during the most draining exam periods in university, you had always rejected the idea of drinking coffee. Seungcheol knew this. Even Jeonghan and Joshua kept this in mind. But for some reason, your best friend still asked for your thoughts on the tiniest and most crucial details whenever he felt conflicted or was in need of a different perspective while building his own business. You were beyond shocked when he told you that he wanted you to be present when he signed the lease agreement - because seriously, you had passed your Introduction to Law class with a C while Jeonghan had literally majored in law and worked for one of the most successful firms in the country since he had managed to get himself an internship at said company -, but you went with him nonetheless because you wanted to support him and give him everything he needed. If he had felt like he would have rather had you by his side instead of someone who could have looked for flaws in the contract, who were you to deny him your endless faith in his capabilities?

His best friend. A cheerleader. A shoulder to cry on and a buddy to drink the night away with. You were many things for Seungcheol. Four weeks before the grand opening, you were an interior designer who spent every minute of her free time shopping for food-safe paint, cheap but quality porcelain, oversized coffee bean stickers and furniture sets online. Because you both wanted Coffee Carat to have a cosy and homey vibe while you also decided to not throw your money out the window just to have professional help. You were hard-working people with a precise work ethic. You could make it work in the harder but financially more pleasing way until you were there for each other to light up the mood with dad jokes and comforting hugs. Sure, Jeonghan and Joshua never failed to give you those glances when you crashed at theirs, eye bags prominent and limbs too sore to move, but you didn’t give them the time of day. You genuinely wished to see Seungcheol’s business thrive. It was his dream, after all, and his happiness was yours.

On the weekend when you agreed on turning the shop’s walls in different shades of beige and brown, you cut a few hours off your beauty sleep and woke up super early to have enough time for a quick visit to the bubble tea and coffee shop on the other side of the park where Seungcheol’s was located. Their baked goods weren’t as delicious as those heavenly custards, pies and cupcakes you had taste-tasted on Wednesday at the guys’ place, but they were strong on teas and tea biscuits which you both liked, so you weren’t complaining.

‘Yah! You’re supporting our future rivals, you realise this, right?’ A very tired-looking and disoriented Seungcheol screamed at you even before he reached the front door of the shop, his index finger accusingly pointing at the bag in your hands and the printed logo of Freefall, the youthful shop of your so-called enemy.

You rolled your eyes upon seeing his exaggerated frown and watched as he took his keys out of his jacket’s pocket then pushed it into the lock. From this angle and with your knowledge about him as a person, he looked more tired than annoyed, but you still added:

‘No. I’m supporting you because I know 6:30 is early for you, too, without caffeine,’ you said with a soft smile, putting emphasis on your own approach before you nodded your head as a sign of silent thank you when he tugged on the door handle and opened it for you. It was such a Seungcheol thing to do: holding the door for you when most people around you would have just entered first without thinking too much into the situation or of the person behind them.

‘Still…’ he grumbled and showed his keys back into his jacket’s pocket as he followed you inside the shop.

You were happy to see that he had already moved the new tables and chairs in the middle of the customer area and covered them with those transparent covers you had ordered last week. Not that you hadn’t prepared yourself for the draining preparations mentally, but this sight gave you more energy to start your busy day.

‘It’s still warm. Will you really not have it?’ You asked him from above your shoulder with your gaze settled on the backpack in his hands and the printed tee that he held out for you. It was a university tee way too big for your figure, but something you wouldn’t have to be too careful with during the painting. His thoughtfulness, like always, came both as a surprise and a constant in your life.

You turned around and walked up to Seungcheol, meeting him halfway because even when it was about a five-step-long distance, he never made you make all the effort on your own. The textile was surprisingly soft against your skin when he handed it to you.

‘Classic latte without extra sugar?’ He asked, eyeing the devilious bag with a pinch of doubt and hesitance in his chocolate brown orbs as if you hadn’t known his morning coffee by heart or you had been just like his flatmates who liked playing tricks on him regardless of time and location. Despite your own playful moments, you would have never pranked him when he was so sleepy and vulnerable. Not to mention that there were only four weeks left before the grand opening. That fact alone should have given him a free pass from everyone for the rest of the month because you all knew how stressed out he must have been behind his composed mask.

‘Would I dare feed you with anything else in the morning?’ The question fell from your lips playfully while you threw the tee over your shoulder and took his drink out of the bag with its secure holder. Feeling how full it was, you resisted the childish urge to shake it in front of Seungcheol’s face just to tease because you didn’t intend to accidentally pour its content all over yourself and the floor. A voice inside your head - alarmingly akin to Yoon Jeonghan’s pitched tone - told you that if that had happened, you wouldn’t have heard the end of it. ‘I also got us biscuits,’ you singsonged, excited to try the new items on Freefall’s menu since they had looked good when the owner’s granddaughter presented them to you, telling you about their flavours and the original receipt she had experienced with.

‘That, too? The betrayal!’ He sighed, earning another eye roll from you, an even less serious one this time. He was so dramatic.

‘I got them for free,’ you pointed out without going into too much detail about your friendly conversation with Eunseo who was two years younger than you two and a phenomenon to be around. Admittedly, it wasn’t the first time you had been in their shop, but you genuinely saw nothing wrong with slowly becoming their regular because they had tea and tea biscuits while Coffee Carat wouldn’t. And you loved those.

Deep down, you knew Seungcheol saw nothing wrong with it, either. And even if he had seen them as his future rival for real, he would have never tried to control you and from where you got your snacks and drinks.

‘Seungcheol… Cheolie~’ you pouted at him and batted your eyelashes with a piece of pink biscuit in your hand. It was strawberry flavoured and you bit into it with an exaggerated hum. It tasted so much better than their pies, their talent in baking these types of desserts was beyond you. ‘Look at it this way,’ you started with your mouth full. ‘If I got us more free biscuits from Eunseo, sooner or later, they would go bankrupt.’

The scoff that left Seungcheol’s mouth was airy which meant that he was fighting a laugh. It made you feel proud that despite your ridiculous attempt at acting cute, his spirit was lifted because of it even before the first sip of his latte.

‘Am I forgiven?’ You asked with a shiteating grin plastered on your face that only grew wider when Seungcheol clicked his tongue and shushed you away, rose tinted cheeks reassuring you that he wasn’t angry with you (and most probably had never been).

So you decided to go easy on him and instead of calling him out on his flustered appearance, you encouraged him to start drinking before the beverage could have gotten cold and took off your own jacket and knitted sweater, so that you could put on his oversized tee, right atop of your tight crop top.

By the time you got to start carrying the heavy paint buckets and painting tools out from the storage room, Seungcheol’s paper cup was empty and his energy level was reaching new highs which could only mean one thing: another long day at the coffee shop with hard work and bad jokes. But you it was okay, because regardless of the possible threat of paint in your hair and on your skin - or the soreness in your arms -, you wouldn’t have spent your weekend in any other way so close to the grand opening.

No matter how good (so good!) chilling at home sounded in theory.

Despite your eagerness to be there for Seungcheol through hell and high water - or maybe because of this mindset -, by the time there was only one week left until the grand opening, you started to feel drained even after the least tiring activities. It was hard to balance your new project, all those new responsibilities and your constant presence at Coffee Carat, but how could you not rush to the shop right after you sent the last email for the day when Mingyu’s texts made it obvious that your moral support was once again needed?

gyu 🧁: “at this point he’ll change the whole menu pls ㅠㅠ” gyu 🧁: “we’re here since seven” gyu 🧁: “i’m so tired i’m so tired i’m so tired ㅠㅠ” you: “omw” gyu 🧁: “yes!! thank you, noona!!”

The shop was half an hour from your workplace in good traffic, but it was already 6PM, so it took you almost twice as long to get there; hair dishevelled and cheeks rosy from the bare minimum of running. Still, Mingyu looked at you as though he had seen someone ethereal while your best friend was simply confused because you weren’t a part of their Coffee Carat group chat (only the CC family one) and he was sure that the photo he had taken of the massive amount of baked goods in front of him had been sent to only the former.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t happy to see you, though. His smile might have been tired and faint, but it was an attempt at one of those that was reserved solely for you.

Reciprocating his smile, you walked up to the boys and took a seat on the table next to Cheol and from across Mingyu. The sight of the table between them, full of cupcakes, pies and what not, was genuinely concerning and mouth-watering at the same time. Yet, you couldn’t stop wondering what could have been so wrong with them if your best friend wanted to change the whole menu so close to the finish line. They smelled so delicious.

‘What’s with this?’ You mouthed to the baker with furrowed eyebrows and he gave you a sad shrug in exchange, clearly lacking the answer. His pouty lips made you want to pout, too, but you knew that being sad together wouldn’t have solved the problem.

So you put your bag on the floor in the base of your chair, got rid of your jacket and leaned your head on Seouncheol’s shoulder, stealing a peek at the paper in front of him. It was the same menu you had helped them come up with weeks ago, but it was also full of crossed words that you couldn’t make out.

You decided to deal with the dead end later and reached out for the closest cupcake which was still lukewarm to the touch. You took a bigger bite from it, knowing that Mingyu was an excellent baker, hence it couldn’t have been that bad, and your faith in the younger got paid off. It was soft and tasted like dark chocolate, but it also had something sweeter on the inside that melted on your tongue.

‘Hm, it’s delicious,’ you murmured between two bites, too content with the taste to raise your voice or take a break to form your opinion in an eloquent way. Seeing the younger’s proud puppy smile, you were sure that in the heavy silence of the shop, both boys could hear you clearly.

‘And we named it mint choco cupcake,’ Seungcheol groaned, the sound irritated and pained. It made your shoulders tense and urged you to lift your head from his shoulder so that you could look at his face from another angle. You didn’t like the furrow between his eyebrows, nor the way his fingers turned pale around the edges of the paper. ‘Why are we so bad at this, hah? No one wants lame cupcakes anymore,’ his real concerns fell from his lips a little easier now that you were there.

Seungcheol’s head fell forwards and his forehead met the firm surface of the table with a loud thud. You exchanged a worried glance with Mingyu, then put the half-finished cupcake next to the rest and turned towards your best friend with your entire body.

‘Oh, come on! It’s not that bad. It’s a mint choco cupcake,’ you said with your hand on his nape. You wanted to massage the knots away from his neck and lighten his mood along the way with your carefree tone, but he seemingly didn’t have any of it that afternoon. He kept groaning and mumbling under his nose as though that could have magically solved all of his problems.

It was rare that Seungcheol chose complaining instead of working on a problem, so you knew that he must have felt really stressed and somewhat resigned because of the names they had failed to turn more fun with Mingyu. But lucky for him, you were the queen of puns and lame jokes and you also knew how to handle him when he was acting like this without getting upset with his attitude. You were indeed the best person the baker could have called for help.

‘Okay, okay. Then, what about… Refreshmint?’ You threw in your idea after a moment of silence, earning a grin from Mingyu. Not taking your hand off Seungcheol’s neck, you looked at the sweets on the table and pointed at another cupcake with your other one. ‘Oh! And you could call the strawberry one Berry Tasty.’

Your tinkling chuckle filled the atmosphere until you felt the boy moving under your slightly sweaty palm and it died in your throat upon meeting his eyes. He didn’t look annoyed nor did he look mad. But you couldn’t have helped but fidgeted while he was staring into your soul.

It wasn’t unheard of the two of you to hug each other. Ever since you had gotten closer, you had shared many different types of hugs with Cheol from comforting ones through tipsy ones to desperate, “I don’t want to let go of you” types. Therefore, when your best friend suddenly leaned in and wrapped his muscular hands around you, you welcomed the quickening pace of your heart with familiarity. You patted his head and raked your fingers through his hair when it became obvious that he needed a bit of time to speak his mind.

Despite the long days behind your back and the tiredness in your bones, you didn’t rush him. Not even when Mingyu gave you the glance, his eyes shifting from your face to Seungcheol’s figure over and over again as an attempt to urge you to push him. You knew that pushing him would have done more harm than good even if he might have talked to you if you had told him that you were tired. It had been your decision to come here, making him feel bad because of this would have been unfair and low of you (and of anyone else). After all, it was common knowledge by then for the employees of Coffee Carat that you would have rather skipped a few hours of chilling around at home than put extra burden on Seungcheol’s shoulders.

‘I hate these so much,’ your best friend mumbled against your chest before he pulled away and looked you in the eyes. ‘But for some reason, they’re working.’

The laughter that escaped your throat was amused. The kind that left your shoulder shaking without control and your head fell backwards just a little. It didn’t take too long, only a few passing seconds, but that didn’t take away its genuinity.

‘Leave it to Choi Seungcheol to make you feel appreciated,’ you said with a smile while you lifted your hands to your cheeks and wiped away your stray tears.

‘I appreciate you,’ he claimed confidently, still so close that his face was barely a few inches from yours. Only then you realised that he had never stopped hugging you and that if he had leaned a tad bit closer, you could have felt his breath fanning over your chin. Oh damn. Your heart hadn’t beaten this fast since his last birthday party, when he had missed your cheek after he had opened your gift and kissed your neck instead.

‘I know,’ you reassured him after a hopefully not so visible gulp. The warm smile you offered him and his determined focus on your eyes should have done the trick and concealed your sudden self-consciousness. But if it hadn’t, you decided to move forwards from that moment as though it hadn’t pushed your heart into a critical condition. Since it really wasn’t anything new. ‘I was just messing with you,’ you said, darting your tongue out like a child until Mingyu cleared his throat from across the table and tilted his head towards the light brown clock on the wall. Oh! Since when time flew so fast?

Knowing that the boys had started the day at the shop around seven, you ruffled Seungcheol’s hair with an affectionate smile and asked him to give you the list that he had been crumpling unintentionally. It wasn’t easy to come up with creative names for every item, but when a few of the guys came over for their share of promised free food and you presented your ideas for them, you were certain that you were doing great because neither Minghao or Jihoon showed distaste towards them. And you had named your white chocolate-orange balls Unstoppaballs, for goodness’ sake.

It was nearing 10PM when you finally deemed your list finished and let go of Seungcheol’s hand on your knee so that you could have stood up from your chair and stretched your sore limbs a little. Since coffee wouldn’t be the only beverage that Coffee Carat would serve for their customers, you walked up to the counter with the goal to find one of the fruit-flavoured syrups that were perfect for lemonades. And while you found the strawberry one without any trouble - although it was on a higher shelf -, you couldn’t prepare a glass for yourself in peace because Jeonghan chose this exact moment to join you with his characteristic, lopsided smile.

‘So…’ he started, elbows resting atop of the counter while you took a second glass off the shelf and filled it with sparkling water. It wasn’t how you usually made lemonades, but this was an equally good albeit faster version without fruit slices and other fancy stuff. You gave Jeonghan a look, telling him to spill the beans or shut up altogether, because you weren’t in the mood for his games. Luckily, he knew you long enough and well enough to understand the message without actual words and so he said: ‘About Cheol and you… When will one of you finally confess?’

If you wanted to be a hundred percent honest, you had seen this question coming. Because as far as you were concerned, Jeonghan might have had an ongoing bet with the fourth member of your infamous quartet regarding your relationship status with Seungcheol. And why wouldn’t he have had one? The three of you had had one, too, when Joshua had been together with his last girlfriend and you had been able to eat out for free for a whole week courtesy of the boys when the girl had broken up with the guy due to their different needs in a relationship. To put it simply: she had found Joshua’s endless love to give her overwhelming because she was too fixated on being an independent woman in a rather extreme way. She couldn’t have accepted a gift from a man to save her life.

The only answer you gave your friend was a shrug as you paid special attention to mixing his drink. You liked seeing him riled up because of human stupidity way too much to give in too easily. Not to mention that he deserved the torture. He had eaten your spring rolls last week when you had saved them on purpose for the morning and had had the nerves to blame it on Kkuma.

‘If this is your way of telling me “we are just friends, Hanie” so help me God, I’ll find a way to screw up your mornings for a whole month if not two,’ he claimed with a displeased scoff, rolling his eyes at you when you placed the strawberry lemonade in front of him.

‘But we are friends, Hanie,’ you said with a pout, coaxing a dramatic sigh out of your friend who clearly wasn’t having it. Too bad. Because you loved it when he was sulking. He looked so adorable then and to be fair, amongst a couple of your friends, you would have also done a lot of things for him when he was acting this way (a lot more than you would have done seeing his aegyo). It was a weakness he didn’t need to know about or exploit when he was already a master manipulator.

You watched him take a few sips of his drink and drank some from your own glass, missing the frozen berries that you usually threw in the sparkling water when you were mixing the same, fake lemonade at the guys’ place. Seungcheol was so good at grocery shopping. Somehow, when it was his turn to fill the empty shelves, they always had everything in their kitchen that you craved.

Smiling at the thought, you walked around the counter and stopped in front of Jeonghan. You put one of your elbows on the firm, wooden surface before you looked up at him with a smile in the corner of your mouth.

‘Not that I owe you an answer, but I’m planning to ask him out after the grand opening. He’s too stressed with the preparations, now isn’t an ideal timing,’ you explained quietly, knowing well that in your expanded friend group, keeping secrets was close to impossible. These boys walked in on everyone without knocking as though they owned every apartment at least one of you lived in, a few of them eavesdropped on anyone and everyone who could form coherent sentences and another handful of them had a bigger urge to spread rumours than any neighbourhood ahjumma you had encountered in your life.

‘It seemed pretty ideal to me in our last year of uni, too. Or when you two went on a vacation without us. Or when you and Seungcheol took off the same week from work last summer just to not do anything under the same roof for days,’ he listed a few “perfect opportunities” you could have grabbed, but honestly, at that time, none of these had felt ideal. And great timing was crucial in delivering a successful confession. One could have had the greatest speech of the century, the most romantic setting and the prettiest dress on, if their timing was bad, it could have blown into their face. And you had been too big of a mess in senior year to let that happen. For the other two mentioned occasions, you had good reasons, too. It was just that… at the moment, bearing your friend’s piercing gaze, it was mentally draining to recall them.

‘I’m a different person now,’ you retorted easily, willing yourself to not blink or look away first. You couldn’t lose against him. No. You would have rather let your eyes become the next Sahara or your tears roll down your cheeks than blink first.

‘Who is a different person now?’ The question came from your right, the familiarity of the voice forcing you to snap your head towards its owner. Freaking Choi Seungcheol and your trained brain that always reacted to his presence.

‘Me,’ you said with a smug grin, overconfidence radiating from your body - a clear attempt to keep the boys’ attention on you and avoid Jeonghan’s knowing glances for as long as it was humanly possible.

If someone had walked in on your trio and asked which of these two made you frown more, you couldn’t have chosen from Jeonghan’s scoff and Seunhcheol’s obnoxious laughter easily. They were both annoying.

‘No, you’re not,’ your best friend said once he calmed down and wiped away his nonexistent tears. You finished your drink in one go and rolled your eyes when he reached out for your hand, fingers sliding in between yours with ease. ‘Come on! I’ll take you home,’ he said as he tugged on your arm gently to pull you further from Jeonghan who quickly opened his mouth to complain, claiming that he was the one who lived with Seungcheol, so he should have been the one who got that offer.

You didn’t waste your energy pointing out that he had his own car parked in front of the café or that he should have hurried up before Seungcheol locked him inside the building like how he had accidentally done so with Mingyu during their lunch break two weeks ago when the younger had been in the storage room, organising the ingredients in peace with airpods in his ears. You had never gotten so many missed calls within twenty minutes than that afternoon.

The morning of the grand opening was a bit more hectic than either of you had predicted, but it was a mess in the most positive way of the word. Or so you thought based on the growing number of customers until your gaze landed on a panicky Seungcheol who stormed into the storage room as soon as he marched behind the counter. Worried, you followed him without thinking or caring about the fact that you weren’t allowed to enter the employees only areas when the coffee shop was open. So what if someone had seen you without at least wearing an apron? Your best friend needed you.

The first thing you noticed when you closed the door behind your back was that it was really quiet inside compared to the chaos on the other side. Then, your gaze fell on Seungcheol who was leaning his forehead against one of the metal shelves full of extra plates and glasses and you forgot about everything else. He looked so small despite his height, so vulnerable with his head hanging low between his shoulders that you didn’t hesitate to walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his torso.

You could feel his muscle tense and calm under your touch in a matter of seconds and you smiled without realising when he untied your hands and intertwined your fingers with his, pulling you even closer to his back even though that wasn’t quite possible.

‘I’m okay,’ he breathed, voice barely above a whisper. You were aware that he used this tone to reassure you that he was indeed alright, but you also knew that this didn’t always mean that he was. Which made you a tad bit more worried than you wanted to show.

‘I know you are,’ you replied in the same, calming voice nevertheless, because he didn’t have to worry about you, too, on top of everything else.

‘There are more people out there than I expected,’ he admitted after a couple of heartbeats, his fingers playing with the silver rings on yours. Smiling like a fool, you wondered whether it was intentional when he slid his own on your thumb, securing it in its base without keeping up with the restless fidgeting.

‘Which is good,’ you claimed, slowly pulling away and turning him around so that you could take his face into your hands. You wanted to be able to look him in the eyes and see that he understood what you were saying when you repeated: ‘It’s a good thing.’

As though he forgot how to blink, he stared at you with shimmering eyes before he slowly nodded and said the same.

‘It’s a good thing.’

A part of you wondered whether this was another perfect opportunity that you refused to live with, but quickly dismissed the idea because clearly, just because the moment was ideal, the situation itself was off. Seungcheol had to go back to work and cheer his employees on while assisting them. It wasn’t a good time for throwing out big words in the open. It wasn’t a good time for I love yous.

‘You’ve got this,’ you said instead and he once again accepted your encouraging words with a nod and a grateful smile.

However, this time, before he walked away and left you alone with your thoughts, he leaned forwards and pressed his lips against your forehead briefly. He kissed you with such ease as though it would have been the most natural thing to do and you were just standing there like a statue until Minghao came in for extra cutleries and shoved out of his way with his shoulder in a hurry.

Dazed, you apologised and walked back to your table in the customer area.

Just like how you promised yourself, you stayed at the customer area for the rest of the day and made yourself busy by finding different ways to support your friends. You consumed as many glasses of lemonade as many flavours of pies they sold which was a lot. Then, you used the coffee shop’s special hashtag under each one of your photos that you uploaded for social media (and made Hansol upload for social media since out of everyone in your close friend group he had the most followers). You had a suspicion that the huge number of customers in the morning and after 6PM was his meme page’s doing, but you never really questioned him. Partly, because your knowledge wasn’t that advanced about Instagram and he was too humble to admit that he had this much influence, so you would have needed that extra grasp to make him talk. Mostly, because he was more silent while he was waiting for the closing time with you than he usually was and you didn’t want to push him too much.

Taking advantage of the fast wifi, you proposed a two-player game on your phones with Sol to kill some time and while you won only three times out of a dozen (unbelievable!), seeing him smile made you happy.

And your happiness just grew when the younger boy put his phone on the table and pointed at the front door with his index finger, signalling you that Seungcheol was about to turn around the OPEN sign that hung on the glass. You didn’t hesitate. You stood up from your chair and rushed to the counter to make a classic latte without extra sugar like how you had planned since you had been left in the storage room and for once, you couldn’t have been more grateful for Seungkwan’s tendency to not mind his own business. Because the blonde boy was so much better at using the super professional and super huge coffee machine than you.

After a rushed thank you and a hug that earned you an eye roll from the younger, you walked up to your best friend with a proud smile and held out the pleasantly hot beverage for him.

‘Congratulations, boss! I’ve never seen a more successful grand opening,’ you claimed even before he took the latte from you with his own, tired smile plastered on his face.

You watched as he collapsed on the nearest empty chair with a sigh and followed him, taking a seat right next to him.

‘Have you ever been to any grand opening?’ Seungcheol asked with a raised brow, eyeing you with suspicion. Since in the meantime, he also lifted his cup in front of his lips, for a split second, you weren’t sure whether he doubted your words or your coffee making ability more. Not that either of those would have been groundless of him. He knew you too well.

‘No,’ you admitted with a shrug, knowing that this didn’t make your compliment less sincere. You were happy for him. He could see it written all over your face. It was in your eyes, in your body posture. He couldn’t have missed it even if the two of you had been strangers, let alone with his capability to read you like you were an open book.

Seungcheol’s amused chuckle filled your senses and you watched him with heart eyes as he finally took a tentative sip from his favourite latte. Honestly, his surprise would have been slightly offensive if you hadn’t been aware that on your worst days, you could mess up even that instant coffee that the guys had in their kitchen. So you put up with his reaction and let him take your hand in his empty one with that giddy smile of his that was so him, your whole chest felt warmer when you saw it.

‘Delicious,’ he said, sipping on it diligently while his thumb drew small circles and eights on the back of your hand, once again creating the perfect moment, the perfect opportunity. It was time to confess to Seungcheol how you loved him more than a best friend. How you would have whined a lot more if it had been Jeonghan (or anyone else in your friend group, really, expect for the babies) whom you had helped out during the preparations. It was time and yet you said:

‘That only means, you don’t have to fire Seungkwan on his first day.’

You wanted to be angry at yourself for letting the moment pass again, but you were still there with Seungcheol and you still had time so you weren’t. For now, you simply enjoyed the boy’s attention on you and that small smile that seemed to sit permanently in the corner of his mouth. You hadn’t lost a single thing. In fact, you had so much. So why would you have felt anything other than contentment at a moment so cosy and homey?

‘I couldn’t have done this without you,’ Seungcheol’s statement broke the fleeting silence and you put your other hand atop of his and squeezed it with a fond smile.

‘Nah, I’m sure you’d have managed. I just made it more fun,’ you claimed confidently, but he shook his head. And as he stared right into your soul with his chocolate brown orbs, when your heart got filled with the familiar warmth, you once again wondered whether this was it. After all, he was looking at you as though you put all the stars in the sky. He cared for you, he loved you, he hugged you better when you were in need of a shoulder to lean on. You knew that you were more important to him than to lose you over a confession and he knew that you felt the same. There wasn’t a single scenario in which a confession would have destroyed what you two had.

‘I love you.’

It took you a few breathless moments to realise that it wasn’t your voice that echoed off the walls, but when you did, you couldn’t not smile like a fool. Because that was what you were. A fool for not beating him to it when you had loved him for so long. Maybe, you truly haven’t changed since uni.

‘Tsk, I was just about to confess, you know?’ You asked with a pout, making him smile a bit wider as well. ‘I love you, too.’

You weren’t entirely sure what you had expected from this moment or what had made you drag it out this much, but as you intertwined your fingers with Seungcheol’s, you didn’t mind the lack of groundbreaking gestures. Because now you had him in another way, too. You could love him in another way, too. And that was more than enough.

➼ next reason

#seventeen scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #scoups #ssbyme #coffee shop au #best friends to lovers #fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen series

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spacemothwithasword · 2 years ago

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i've seen only a couple of people on here talking about cryptid coffeehouse, and im so upset! i want to scream with you guys, because this vn is so adorable!!!

so you romance a sweet nb mothman. and it's a coffee shop au! also i don't think there are any bad endings. The choices you make are mostly what makes you the most comfortable in the current situation. Do you want to spoil this adorable mothman? Do you want to hug them, hold their hand, kiss them? You choose!

ALSO! PRONOUNS OPTIONS!!

AND IT"S FREE!

so yeah, pls go play the game. it's really good!

aaand here is my screams written minutes after i finished the game. beware there are spoilers!

i love Artemis so fucking much!!

they are so cute and funny and AAAAAAA

i've been screaming and kicking my legs all throughout the game!! how can they be so adorable??

this. THIS. THIS FUCKING CASUAL HEAD KISS

them being so nervous with kisses and then giving the softest most casual kiss without thinking - I DIED OK. the mc didn't think about it, the narrative glossed over it, BUT I DIDN'T. FUCK. it was so casual and soft and i needed some time to recover from that

BUT THEN THEY KILL ME AGAIN BY ASKING TO BE MC'S PARTNER IN THE MOST ADORABLE WAY! FUUCK! JUST! AAAAAAAA

needless to say i cried with them

#cryptid coffeehouse #visual novel #itch.io #dating sims

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snackhobi · 4 years ago

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this is my part of the rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab with @yeojaa, @underthejoon @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna, @untaemedqueen, @xjoonchildx ✨ MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS Y’ALL

summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.

pairing: yoongi x barista f!reader / word count: 14.8k / genre: coffeeshop!au, fluff, dash of smut (NSFW)

warnings: slow burn, terrible drink concoctions, pining, miscommunication (kind of/reader comes to incorrect conclusions based on literally nothing), the tiniest bit of swearing, heated makeouts, oral (m receiving), I think that’s it

a/n: I have a lot of people to thank: thank you to my loveliest most beautiful wife @yeojaa for the beautiful banner 🥺💖 thank you to @morndas for helping me name this fic and suggesting some of the awful weekly specials featured within 🥰 thank you to @yeoldontknow for letting me have multiple meltdowns at her and for letting me pick her brain about working in the music industry, and for helping me with plot points I wasn’t sure about!! 💕

also thank you to @hobi-gif for helping me brainstorm the original fic idea with her; she hasn’t beta’ed this fic because I am TERRIBLE and literally finished this like an hour before posting. that’s on me and not her. I am a shambles without her indomitable proof reading skills; any mistakes are down to me, and I apologise for that. I’ve only read this through like once, sorry in advance, I’m literally formatting this while I should be getting ready for work

Being a barista isn’t all bad.

Like, okay, you’re on your feet for hours at a time, the pay isn’t exactly the highest in the world, and coffee beans have a tendency to end up in the weirdest places (how did you get the light roast in your bra?)—but it’s not entirely terrible.

Here’s a (totally not comprehensive) list of good things about working at the Paradise coffee shop:

The free drinks (y’know, for taste testing purposes)

The free food (you probably eat more than you’re actually allowed, but who’s telling?)

Your coworkers (like Taehyung, who is—yep—currently shoving a whole mini panettone in his mouth)

Most of the customers are pretty nice, too (you have some lovely regulars)

(If you had to be more specific, there’s one regular in particular that you really, really like—)

(Yoongi appears like clockwork every week. Just after the Tuesday lunch rush, the bell above the door will sing out its greeting as he steps inside, ordering the same drink each and every time he’s here—a large Americano, to go, plain and simple and unadorned, no room for cream or milk, no added sugar or sweetener.)

(Yoongi really is the perfect customer. He has been from the very beginning, a point of quiet in a churning sea of hot, sweaty people all begging for frappés and milkshakes, the hottest point at the very peak of summer. The queue had been growing longer and longer, out of the doors as the blenders whirred their way through a neverending cascade of sugary, iced blends; the counters were a mess and all the baristas were running around and everything was chaos and in had walked this guy, all dark hair and dark eyes and dark clothes, even in the height of summer—you were ready for death at this point, hands sticky with syrup and apron streaked with flecks from almost every drink from the summer menu, and you’d braced yourself for some terse words, impatience and passive aggressive comments on the long wait—)

(—and this intimidating man had just patiently asked for an iced Americano, calm and quiet and polite.)

(You’d fallen a little in love, then and there. Fallen in love with that simple order, quick and easy to make, and fallen a little in love with the dichotomy of the man who looked like nothing but sharp edges being the softest customer you’d had all day. There was nothing rushed about his motions, no desperate need to get his drink and get away, no anger at having waited for so long.)

(He’d been ready to pay, too, no fumbling with his wallet or money; he’d tapped his card, easy and breezy and all lemon squeezy, but he’d left a tip in change, dropped almost thoughtlessly into the jar. He’d collected his cup with the smallest upturn to his lips, a tilt of his head, and then he’d left, other customers parting before him like the Red Sea.)

(The only thing that’s changed over the months is that the iced coffees of summer have changed into hot Americanos for the cooler months, autumn and now almost-winter, warding off the chill in the air. Everything else is the same; his dark eyes and low voice and patient smile, small but ever present, pressed lightly into the surprisingly soft line of his mouth.)

(So, yeah. Yoongi is your favourite customer. Even if you’ve barely spoken, really, the two of you dancing through the same short script each time he comes in—the longest conversation you’ve had so far is the one where you’d tentatively asked if he’d like a rewards card, and after a moment of contemplation, he’d quietly agreed.)

(You like to think that you’re Yoongi’s favourite server, too. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but—)

(Taehyung had been stunned into speechlessness, because, to quote his words exactly: “I tried getting him to sign up for a card last time and I swear he just pretended he couldn’t hear me? He just straight up didn’t respond? What?”)

(—you know Yoongi likes you at least a little bit.)

Anyway. You’re getting off the point. Paradise is a decent place to work, the people are nice, and the building is pretty and airy and welcoming and warm, toasty and cosy in the upcoming cold of winter. It’s one of the things that keeps people coming back, that lovely atmosphere.

Another thing that people apparently love about Paradise is the constantly changing menu. It’s not enough to have seasonal menus, no—you need to have weekly specials, apparently, to keep people interested. It’s like a gachapon, but instead of cute little capsule toys, it’s a random mix of concoctions that are hit or miss.

“Well, I liked the Peachy Keen Jelly Bean,” Taehyung says, around a mouthful of sweet bread, still chewing his way through the panettone.

“You’d be the only one,” you reply, swiping a cloth over the counters and crinkling your nose at the pile of coffee grounds you gather. “Iced peach tea with blackberry and vanilla and cherry and watermelon syrup has got to be one of the worst things we’ve ever served.”

That had definitely been one of the misses. This week’s special, though, is far more palatable, if incredibly sweet—Crystal Snow, a white chocolate mocha with whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar, and a crystallised sugar stick to stir in. Sugar on sugar on sugar, basically. (Your teeth ache just thinking about it.)

But there’s always something so fun about making the winter specials, no matter how sugary they are; the smell of the sticky syrups, the swirl of cream to top off the cup, the dusting of cocoa or cinnamon, everything mulled in the sweet warmth of winter. Even if the drink you’re making is questionable, you get so excited about it, genuinely enthusiastic when you recommend them to customers, carrying everyone into the spirit of the upcoming holidays. You’d hardly describe making coffee a billion times a day fun—it’s pretty exhausting, actually—but you’ve always had a weird affection for the winter menu and the weekly specials alongside it.

You don’t upsell the drinks because you have to. You do it because you want to.

(You’re pretty good at it too. Not a flex: just a fact. Your customer service is on point.)

The only person you’ve never tried to persuade into trying something new is Yoongi. He might not be rude or short tempered, but he clearly knows what he wants, and you hate the idea of ruining the easy flow of his visits. You’re not about to embarrass yourself by asking Mr No-Cream-Or-Sugar if he’d like a drink that's nothing but cream and sugar. Asking about the rewards card had been nerve-wracking enough, even if it had been worth it for the genuinely-unintentional-but-definitely-not-unpleasant brushing of your fingers when you’d handed the card over to him.

(Okay. Look. Yoongi is patient and pleasant and polite and cute. You never thought that you’d crush on a customer, but here you are. He just… oozes masculinity in an understated, self-assured way that has you internally swooning. He looks intimidating and serious but when he smiles his eyes go soft-soft-soft, his voice a low rumble as he gives you his gentle thank you, and everything about him is just so… attractive. Even the way he holds his coffee is hot, fingers loose around the lid as he makes his way out of the café, your eyes tracing every motion as he goes. Like. Come on. Of course you’re crushing on him.)

(Just a little bit, though. Just a little bit. It’s just an itty bitty crush. A teeny weeny crush.)

The bell above the door chimes. Your kneejerk reaction is to snap your head over to see who it is—but you hold it together, instead letting your head turn at a normal, natural pace. It’s just an unfamiliar woman, rearranging the tassels of her long scarf with one hand and holding her phone with the other as the door swings shut, and you deflate.

(... It’s a small crush, you swear. It’s not like this is around the normal time Yoongi appears and you’d thought it was going to be him. Nope. Definitely not that.)

As the woman lingers near the counter, eyes flicking between her phone and the chalkboard menu on the wall above your head, Taehyung finishes licking the panettone crumbs off his fingers.

“It’s Tuesday,” he states solemnly.

“I know?”

“It’s just past two o’clock,” he continues.

“I know,” you repeat, glancing at him quizzically. “You told me what the time was less than five minutes ago.”

“I did.”

The bell chimes again. This time, a gaggle of giggling girls come bubbling into the café, cutting you off before you can ask what Taehyung is trying to say. You go to flick your cloth at him before thinking better of it, not wanting to rain dark roast everywhere.

“Go wash your hands,” you say, just as the scarfed woman approaches the counter, ready to order. A bright smile splits your face, voice rising into its usual peppy Customer Service tone. “Hi, welcome to Paradise! How can I help you today?”

She barely glances up from her phone as she orders, asking for a latte macchiato and croissant, a distracted ‘no thanks’ when you ask if she’s interested in this week’s special. Oh well. The girls behind her, though, all seem incredibly excited when they catch wind of it; they all eagerly listen as you describe what a Crystal Snow is, your eyes lighting up as you mime piping the cream and dusting the sugar on top, laughing when they ask if they can buy extra sugar sticks to take home, because of course they can, you’d be happy to do that for them, would they like those in to-go bags? Yes, the bags are cute, aren’t they, the snowflakes are lovely, you agree.

Taehyung’s just finished wiping the steam wand when you give him the next order. You see the way his face crumples before his brows lift and his lips purse, pleading as he looks at you with big eyes, and you just roll your own eyes affectionately.

“Yes, yes, I’ll make them even though you’re meant to be on the bar, it’s fine,” you say, and Taehyung’s whole face lights up.

You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough by now to know that it takes him until at least Wednesday to memorise how to make whatever that week’s special is. And there’s not a queue, so you don’t mind taking over, pulling espresso shots and steaming milk and pouring everything together, puffing air in Taehyung’s face when he peers at your cream swirling technique. (No matter how many times you’ve tried to teach him, he’s never been able to get it right, usually just farting a mess of cream out of the nozzle and hoping for the best. Results are… mixed.) Maybe the flourish you put into dusting the sugar on top is unnecessary, but, hey. It’s fun. You smile to yourself as you give a small flick of the wrist over each drink, powdered sugar floating down like snow, and, done.

You don’t like to toot your own horn but the drinks come out Instagram perfect, each latte glass set on a tiny napkin on a saucer, sugar stick on one side, and you take a moment to admire your work.

“They’re so pretty,” Taehyung says, and your smile grows wider.

The girls all agree, cooing over the drinks in a way that only makes your smile grow even more, wide on your face. You watch as they squirrel themselves away in a corner, talking and laughing and nibbling their food and sipping at their drinks, pleased at the way their eyes widen at the first taste.

Yeah, it’s the small things that makes your time here good. Being a barista is a thankless job most of the time, as relaxed as Paradise usually is, so you try to appreciate the small things. Like having fun when you make a drink, for example. Making nice customers happy. (Having cute regulars that you can quietly ogle.)

Actually, on the note of cute regulars—

“Your 2:15 appointment is here.”

You tear your attention away from the table of girls at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. “My what—?”

There’s someone in front of the glass display, hunched as they slowly and quietly peruse the selection of pastries and food inside—and you realise with a jolt that it’s Yoongi. You have no idea how long he’s been there, so distracted with patting yourself on the back for making a few nice drinks; oh, God, what if Yoongi had seen your pleased expression? Do you look smug? You probably look smug. Great, now he probably thinks that you’re a self-obsessed clown, honking your nose like some sort of narcissist.

“You’re spiralling,” Taehyung points out mildly, voice low enough that Yoongi doesn't hear.

His surprisingly perceptive comment snaps you out of aforementioned spiralling, and after shaking yourself off, you glance over at him. “Why didn’t you serve him?”

He shrugs. “He didn’t seem like he wanted to be served so I just left him to it.”

To be fair to Taehyung, he’s not wrong. Yoongi is staring intently at a slice of carrot cake—even if he’s never ordered any before—and it’s not until you move to your usual spot behind the till that his attention finally rises, meeting your gaze with his deep, dark eyes.

Your inner schoolgirl feels like she needs to sit down. Your entire stomach and chest is a looping mess of frantic butterflies after making eye contact with the cute boy who you’re crushing on, but you’ve got a great poker face; you’ve worked as a barista long enough that you’re good at shoving your real feelings down, none of your internal turmoil playing across your face as you smile. Customer service mode activate.

“Hi, and welcome back to Paradise. What can I get for you today? The usual? Large Americano, to go, for Yoongi?”

You’re a little softer than you would be with other customers, a little more subdued, dialing down how upbeat you normally are to match Yoongi’s level. His lips lift almost imperceptibly, the faintest smile playing across his mouth, and it takes all your strength for your knees to not immediately buckle.

“Hi,” he says. His voice is soft and low, faintest drawl at the end of his words, and yep, just your weekly reminder that you’re enamoured with him. Cool. “Yes, please, that would be great.”

He already has his card ready, you know he does. He always does; card to pay, loyalty card to swipe, tip to drop in the jar, quick and smooth and easy. This is normally where you’d rattle off the price—as if he doesn’t already know what it is—but you pause, thinking about how intent he’d been on the pastry display, as uncharacteristic as that is.

“Did you… want something to eat, too? I couldn’t, um, help noticing that you were eyeing up the carrot cake?”

Yoongi blinks, wispy lashes fluttering. You can see the muted surprise that flashes across his face, and you wonder if you’ve misstepped, thrown off the usual rhythm of his visit. It’s an unusual step away from your regular script, an ad-lib that he wasn’t expecting.

“Uh, no, thank you,” he says. “Maybe… next time.”

He’s polite as ever, thankfully. You’re not surprised at his answer but you do have to wonder why he was looking at the cake so closely if he hadn’t planned on getting anything; you know he likes getting served by you the most, if the evidence over the months means anything at all, but you don’t think he’d stare at cake just so he would avoid Taehyung. You’re making assumptions based on the fact he just drinks black coffee and literally nothing else, but you’ve guessed he doesn’t have a sweet tooth. (The only time he’s ever ordered food had been two months prior when he’d asked for a single croissant, and nothing since. Taehyung still talks about the croissant sometimes.)

Well, it doesn't really matter. If he doesn't want cake, you're not going to force it on him, and the rest of the transaction goes as normal. Yoongi hands over his rewards card, fingers long and knuckles knobbly and altogether lovely, pays for his Americano—made by Taehyung, cup wrapped in the sleeve that you’ve written Yoongi’s name on, black sharpie bleeding into the cardboard—and smiles at you both when Taehyung hands it to him across the smooth wood of the counter.

“Thanks.” He gives you that slight tilt of his head that he always does, and you smile helplessly back.

He’s a gentleman, through and through, even if he looks as distant as ever; dressed in all black, his ripped jeans the only splash of lightness in his dark outfit. Maybe you’re biased, but no matter what he wears, he looks stylish, somehow. It’s something in his aura. All cool understated elegance and power.

And here you are, in your cream jumper under the dark mulberry apron of your uniform, a flower blooming next to the name on your badge. All chirpy customer service, smiling broad and wide as you go through the same motions over and over with each new person that comes in. Sometimes you wonder what Yoongi thinks of you, as different as you are to him, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter—because he keeps coming back, doesn’t he?

“Have a nice day,” you say as he turns to go, and when he glances over his shoulder and says you too, smile soft and eyes softer, you know he really means it.

(And if your eyes always trail after him once his back has turned, who’s telling?)

“You’re staring.” Taehyung’s telling, apparently.

You tear your eyes away from Yoongi, bell tinkling as the door swings shut behind him. “He’s my favourite customer,” you say. As if that explains why you were staring.

“You’ve barely spoken to him.”

“He’s my favourite customer,” you say again, emphatically. “He comes in, he gets the world’s simplest drink to make, is always polite, always leaves a tip, and he goes. Literally the perfect customer.”

“Alright, true,” he says, as if he hadn’t considered that before now. “Cute, too.”

You sigh. A little wistful. “Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, he is.”

Taehyung opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else when someone spills their drink on their floor with an unholy clattering sound, even if nothing breaks; without saying anything, both you and Taehyung raise your hands, eyes narrowing at each other.

"Rock, paper, scissors," you chant. Taehyung promptly loses, and the pout that forms on his lips doesn't disappear until he's finished mopping everything up.

(“Why do I always end up having to clean spillages?”

“Because you never win rock-paper-scissors. You always choose scissors, Taehyung. You literally always choose scissors.”)

The tradition of the weekly specials at Paradise is a weird one, truth be told. Each Monday whoever’s on the opening shift will enter the coffee shop and find that the board on the wall has been updated, the recipe typed up and laminated, waiting on the counter for the baristas. You all assume it’s the mysterious owner, who no one has ever seen, and no one even knows the name of, apparently.

“Someone has to know their name,” you’d said, once, back when you’d first started, only to receive a shrugs from everyone.

“I heard one of the old baristas say the owner’s name was Jackson,” Taehyung had said, and you’d just blinked at him.

“Huh?” you’d said, but Jimin had rolled his eyes and told you to ignore him, so you had.

This week’s drink is the Marshmallow World. As always, when you and Taehyung start your shift together, you read the recipe and follow it step by step to learn how to make it. Warmed milk, vanilla syrup, topped off with marshmallow fluff instead of whipped cream—not bad in theory, if you like sweet things, although it does pose one significant problem.

“It’s clogged my hole,” Taehyung says sadly.

You sputter on your own drink, desperately hacking your lungs out as you try to stop milk from going down your windpipe. “I’m-sorry-it’s-what,” you wheeze all at once, struggling for air.

Taehyung tilts his takeaway cup at you, gesturing at the lid. (All the mugs are still out back or on a rinse cycle so laziness had forced you to make do.) “My drink hole. It’s blocked,” he explains. “The fluff is getting in the way.”

So, yeah. It clogs people’s holes, apparently. But other than that, you have to admit it’s pretty nice, and if you drink it in the café (and thus out of a mug) then you’re fine. You just get into the habit of warning the customers if they order it to go and laugh about it with them and it’s all fine and dandy and everyone is happy.

It’s starting to get busier, now. The nights are getting longer and the days are getting colder and everyone’s starting to think about Christmas, which feels both close and far away, all at once. Close, because you still have presents to buy and there’s never enough time for it; and far, because the lights have yet to go up and Christmas songs aren’t dominating the radio yet and you have yet to experience the real winter rush. Students home for the holidays and families out to see Father Christmas and workers grabbing Secret Santa gifts, everyone desperate for something warm and soothing, hot and comforting in the face of the snow which has yet to fall.

But there’s something in the air, that cool hush that lets you know it’s nearly here—the changing of the seasons, the burnt sunset colours of autumn melting into the iced blues and greys of winter. No matter if you prefer hot or cold weather, there’s something about the beauty of wintertime that’s undeniable.

And it’s a lot easier to sell something like the Marshmallow World on a day like this, the nip in the air almost solid, biting cold into the apples of your cheeks, nibbling at fingers that are so cold they feel frost-bitten. Once again, your genuine enthusiasm shines through, persuading people to give the drink a go, happy to add a shot of espresso for whoever needs it, desperate for caffeine to buoy them up through the day.

You’ve just finished laughing with a lovely old couple, wearing matching scarves and hats—awwww—waving them goodbye as they go to sit down, when you come face to face with Yoongi, blindsided by his sudden appearance. You’d been so caught up, once again, too busy giggling your way through the conversation with your other customers, able to persuade them to try one special to share alongside everything else they’ve ordered.

“Oh. Uh. Hi,” you say. Your hand is still by your face after you’d given the couple a cute wave, and when you realise, you freeze. Flustered. Behind you, Taehyung is struggling to spoon the marshmallow fluff neatly on the vanilla steamer, making small noises of distress, but you’re too caught up in your own distress to really notice.

Once again, you have no idea how long Yoongi’s been there. You’re slipping. You’re normally aware of him as soon as he steps into the coffee shop. (You know, because you’re always aware of when a new customer steps in. Like any good barista would be.) Had he witnessed you enthusiastically waving your hands and talking about marshmallows and s'mores? Seen the way you'd grinned and laughed as you'd gotten excited over the weekly special, yet again?

Well, if he had, he doesn't seem perturbed at all. His usual smile is on his face, though you would swear it seems a little softer around the edges, almost fond.

“Hi,” he says, and… that’s it.

There’s no addition of his usual that would be great, and that’s when you realise you haven’t asked about his coffee. In fact, your fingers are still curled near your chin, almost like a claw. You clear your throat and let your arm fall to your side, fiddling with the tie of your apron.

“Hi,” you repeat. Flounder for a second. Try to remember your usual line. “Large Americano?”

“Y/n.” Taehyung whines your name from the bar, loud enough that it catches your attention. “The marshmallow isn’t staying. Why do you keep recommending Marshmallow World? Why must I suffer through this torture? Every day I wake up and I make coffee—”

“Sorry, sir, one second,” you say, face scrunching in apology at Yoongi.

“It's just Yoongi,” he replies, gentle, and your heart thuds in your chest. "You don't have to call me sir."

Your face feels warm. "Um, okay, Yoongi." You've said his name before, of course, said it dozens of times to confirm his order, but never like this—by invitation from the man himself, an acknowledgement of familiarity.

Taehyung makes another noise. Yoongi's expression turns into one of faint amusement, eyes drifting over your shoulder to your friend; when you turn around, you can see why.

The other barista’s managed to get marshmallow fluff all over the edge of the glass, on the handle of the cup, all the way up the spoon, on his fingers—everywhere except on the drink itself. It’s funny, in a sad sort of way.

“Wow.” You have no idea how he managed it, but you’re here to help. “Alright, go wash your hands, Tae. I’ve got this.”

The cup is a goner. There’s no way you’ll be able to wipe off the sticky marshmallow. You’re acutely aware of Yoongi at the counter, able to watch your every move, but then you get distracted as you salvage Taehyung's attempt at a Marshmallow World. You just feel grateful that it’s a steamer so you can pour it into a new glass, not having to worry about layers of coffee and milk and foam; it’s a pretty easy fix. Good. (You don’t want to keep Yoongi waiting, as patient as he may be.)

It doesn’t take long to spoon the marshmallow on, whipped peaks in the sticky white, and by the time Taehyung returns you’re ready to present him with the picture perfect drink, not a single lick of fluff anywhere it shouldn’t be. You've got your hands on your hips as you survey your work proudly, and Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you.

“Witchcraft,” he says, and you laugh.

“You’re welcome,” you say. “Alright, shoo, go take this over to the table before they start wondering where it is.”

When you turn back, Yoongi’s watching you. Contemplative. You tamp down the flush that threatens to spill onto your cheeks, face burning, but before you can say anything, he speaks.

“Was that the weekly special?”

You blink. Blindsided. Yoongi’s never asked about the special before, never commented on the A-frame outside, the sign on the wall that sits next to the regular menu. No surprise there—why would someone who only drinks Americanos want to drink ninety-nine percent of the weekly specials you offer? “Um, yeah,” you say. “We’ve got the Marshmallow World this week.”

“Would you recommend it?”

You can’t help it. You light up. You love when customers ask for recommendations, and the fact that it’s Yoongi—whose blood must be made of coffee at this point—who’s asking about it? Americano Yoongi, asking about something without caffeine? Black coffee Yoongi, asking about a weekly special that’s nothing but sugar and sweetness? Something inside you switches on, a Christmas tree, all flashing lights and shimmering tinsel and excitement.

“Oh, if you like sweeter drinks, absolutely! It’s great for a cold day like today,” you gush. Maybe you should reel it in, far more exuberant than you usually are with Yoongi, but. You can’t stop. “It’s warm milk and vanilla, so it’s a lovely comfort drink, and we can add a shot of espresso too if you were wanting a little pick-me-up. And then you’ve got marshmallow fluff on top for some extra self-indulgence. We were meant to, uh, toast the top, actually, but we don’t have the necessary health and safety clearance for blowtorches. I guess you could do that at home if you really wanted to. Everyone likes toasted marshmallows, right?”

Yoongi hums, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gotten ahead of yourself. Oversold it. Maybe he was asking out of curiosity. Just because he’s asking about it doesn’t mean that he wants one—

“Can I get a Marshmallow World, please? Large, to go?”

—or maybe Yoongi is an official convert to the world of sweet drinks, changing after a lifetime of drinking unadorned, unadulterated black coffee. Holy shit. Holy shit? Holy—

“And a large Americano to go, too, please.”

(Record scratch. Freeze frame.

Yoongi of-the-black-coffee is ordering his usual drink, and another. Both large. Too much for one person to reasonably drink before one of them got cold. He’s not ordering for one person; he’s ordering for two people. Of course Yoongi wouldn’t order something as heart-stopping as the Marshmallow World—not for himself, anyway.

Mental maths. Two plus two is four, four plus four is eight; one large Americano and one Marshmallow World is two people. Yoongi and one other person is two people, a couple of people, a couple—

Oh, God.

A couple.

You’ve been crushing on a taken man.

You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die? It’s sort of like that, but rather than remembering your life, you immediately recall every moment over the months where you’ve looked at him or thought about him with even the smallest iota of longing and you want to crawl under the counter and never come out.

You feel weirdly guilty. Like… like you’re some sort of unintentional homewrecker. Even though, you know, you thought Yoongi was single and you haven’t made a single move on him and nor had you had any plans to. The guilt bubbles up inside you anyway.

All at once, you feel immensely, incredibly embarrassed. Of course he’s taken. There’s no way he wouldn’t be, as attractive and nice as he is, and you’ve just been sat here crushing on him like a big dumb idiot.

You are the worst.)

You manage to squeeze this internal breakdown into the span of a few seconds. You’re grateful that you have your customer service face locked on, giving nothing away—from the outside the smile looks just like that, a smile, rather than the rictus of deathly mortification it actually is, burning through you like a wildfire.

Yoongi seems none the wiser, just patiently waiting for some sort of acknowledgement of his order. Most of your brain power is still taken up with the mish-mash of humiliation and guilt that’s roiling through you. Luckily, though, the part of your brain that’s still in the moment (trying to drag you back to the real world, shame-faced as you are) forces you to move before things get weird.

“One large Americano, one large Marshmallow World, both to go.” You tap the drinks into the till on auto-pilot, dimly noting that Taehyung’s been pulled into conversation with the old couple at their table, having delivered their drinks and food to them. It’s just you behind the counter, no one else to man the coffee machines. “Let me get those started for you.”

Luckily, making the drinks means you can turn your back to Yoongi, oscillating through the five stages of grief as you fiddle with hot milk and coffee grounds and paper cups. You always take pride in your work—especially when it comes to Yoongi—and you take even more pride now, determined to make these drinks as lovely as they can be. His Americano is fairly simple, but the Marshmallow World requires a bit more finesse, and you lavish attention on the fluff, swirling it beautifully, even though you know it’ll stick to the lid anyway.

(Okay, listen. Whoever this person Yoongi is seeing must be as nice as he is. They both deserve nice drinks.)

There’s something sweet about it, actually. Before the lids go on, you spent a second staring down at the drinks and the juxtaposition between them; black coffee and white marshmallow, bitter and sweet, night and day. It’s lovely, really, these two opposing things coming together. You wonder what Yoongi’s partner is like. Exuberant and bright, rather than his subdued warmth? A balance, yin and yang, opposite but complementary.

(Isn’t that a nice thing to think about? Finding someone who’s different to you but matches you so well?)

You firmly press the lids into place, making sure they’re secure. The protective cardboard sleeve of Yoongi’s Americano has his name—the name you’ve memorised, written out countless times—while the Marshmallow World has a scrawled happy face, and an enjoy! on it, for this mysterious person who likes sweet drinks. You do sincerely hope they enjoy it. You really do.

“The fluff blocks the hole,” you warn, sliding the cardboard tray for both drinks carefully across the counter. “It’s probably a better idea to just take the lid off.”

Something flickers across Yoongi’s face, too fast for you to identify. But then he nods, lifting the tray up with equally careful hands. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.

He’s always polite to everyone, Taehyung and the other baristas, but he seems to smile at you the most. He’s smiling at you now, curling at the corners of his lips, and you smile back, fighting through ten layers of embarrassment and self-inflicted shame to do so. Just because he smiles at you the most doesn’t mean anything. You can smile at people and not have it be weird; it doesn’t mean you return their ill-fated attraction.

Why, oh why, oh why.

By the time Taehyung returns to the counter, having escaped the chatty, kind clutches of the elderly couple, Yoongi is long gone. Your fellow barista finds you crouched down in front one of the cupboards with your head in your hands.

“Y/n?” He sounds incredibly concerned. “Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Are you sick?”

You let out a quiet noise, a mix between a whale dying and a hippo trying to swallow porridge, muffled into your palms. “I’m such a doughnut,” you say. “Just an absolute doughnut.”

Taehyung crouches beside you. “A glazed doughnut or a jam doughnut?”

Your hands drop away from your face as you think. “Plain,” you say, eventually. “Unglazed. No toppings or fillings.” A little sad and disappointing. It seems fitting.

Taehyung puts a hand on your shoulder, warm and comforting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You feel embarrassed all over again, thinking about admitting your (now-squashed) crush to your friend. It was stupid in the first place, crushing on a customer, especially as you’d barely spoken to him; Yoongi might be cute, and nice, but your crush was silly and dumb and you’d been silly and dumb not to think that he was already in a relationship.

“I’m fine,” you say. “Just going through it. And by ‘it’ I mean life generally, you know?”

Taehyung makes a noise of understanding, patting your shoulder. “Big mood,” he says sombrely. He always knows what to say, empathetic to a fault.

“Uh,” a customer says, craning over the counter to see the two of you. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I get a refill on my coffee, please?”

That effectively kills the conversation, which is good. Keep yourself busy and distracted. By the time you see Yoongi next week, this crush will be dead and gone and you’ll be fine. Just fine. Absolutely fine.

He’s dyed his hair.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the café is full of people, and Yoongi has dyed his hair.

You’d spent all of last Tuesday alternating between all-consuming guilt and embarrassment, Taehyung catching you with your head in your hands in one moment and furiously cleaning the steam wand the next, channeling your tumult of emotions into anything that will distract you.

It had worked. Mostly. You’ve had a week’s worth of time since, to get over this month’s long crush, your brain consistently reminding you that Yoongi is in a relationship, with someone who’s probably lovely and attractive and all around just wonderful (just like him). You remind yourself about this every time you find coffee grounds under your nails, or notice milk flecked on your apron, soured and off-white after a day of work; your life isn’t a meet-cute, and you’re not the cute barista who falls in love with the cute regular. You’re the tired barista who makes more cups of coffee in a day than most people probably drink in a year, and Yoongi is the cute regular who’s already in a long term relationship and comes to Paradise just because he likes the dark roast you use. That’s as far as it will go, because this is real life, and not a romance film or novel. (Even if you wished that it was.)

You’ve come to terms with it. Really, you have. But then he has to step into the coffee shop looking like that, his hair bleached so blond it almost looks white, silver hoops in his ears, and he’s still dressed in dark clothes but he’s wearing glasses, no, this isn’t a drill, Yoongi’s dyed his hair, he’s all light and dark, soft and sharp, and you want to crouch behind the counter again. Because he looks so good and of course he’s in a relationship because he’s hot, and you feel dumb for not having realised it sooner.

You can’t hide behind the counter, though. There’s a queue of people, all waiting for your attention and your time, and it’s still just you and Taehyung; none of your usual Christmas temps are back yet, still away at uni, hence the we’re hiring! posters that are up for all the customers to see (and mostly ignore). The seasons are changing and the weeks are passing and the really eager people are starting to think about Christmas shopping; you swear you don’t even need a calendar, able to trace how close you are to Christmas just based on the amount of foot traffic the coffee shop gets. You’re definitely hitting peak.

But it’s fine. You have this down to a fine art. You and Taehyung are both good on the till and scarily efficient at making drinks and plating food, dancing past each other with an ease that only comes with time spent working together and friendship alongside.

People aren’t ordering the weekly special as much, either, not today. You can’t blame them. Candy Cane Dreams is a white hot chocolate, flavoured with mint and coloured green, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles of candy cane bark and red and green drizzle too; it’s… pretty overwhelming. So it means you don’t have to take over for Taehyung from the bar, focusing on smiling at customers and soothing them after their wait, taking their orders and shuffling them along as quickly as you can. You keep a smile plastered on your face as Taehyung pulls espresso shots and grabs tea bags and heats milk, routine and familiar.

When Yoongi steps up to the counter, you’ve barely had time to mentally prepare yourself, so focused on serving everyone else in the queue; it feels like a slap to the face, a kick to the knees, but then you take one deep breath and exhale. Long, deep, slow, forcing air out of your lungs and thoughts out of your mind, and you smile.

You’ve been so careful up until this point, wanting to keep Yoongi happy, wary of misstepping—but he’s just a regular customer. You feel more confident, now, less worried about breaking this tenuous thing you thought you’d had; less worried about what you’re doing being construed as some weird, roundabout way of flirting, because. You know. He’s in a relationship, so it doesn’t matter either way. He’s definitely not interested. You can talk to him like you would anyone else.

So you say: “You dyed your hair.”

And, just like you suspected, Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve broken your usual script. “Oh, yeah.” He reaches up, touches his head, as if he’d forgotten. “I did.”

“It looks nice,” you continue, because it does.

He’s smiling back at you. He looks pleased; maybe a little bashful, even, as surprising as that is. “Thanks,” he says, warm and genuine. (The tiny gremlin of a crush that’s still lurking in your soul lets out a wistful sigh.) “Can I get a large Americano and a—” he squints at the board— “large Candy Cane Dream, please?”

(One plus one is two, Yoongi and his other half, the sugar to his coffee.)

“Sure!” Your voice is bright. “I’m guessing the Marshmallow World went over well?”

There’s a brief beat of silence, but you don’t notice, too focused on typing Yoongi’s order into the till.

“Yeah, it was great,” he says after that moment of quiet, and you smile. Good. You’re glad they enjoyed it.

“I’m really happy to hear that,” you say, genuine and bright.

“What’s actually in the, ah, Candy Cane Dreams?” Yoongi asks, and you laugh, leaning forward conspiratorially.

“It’s horrendous,” you say in a low voice, as if you’re sharing a secret. “Have you ever seen green hot chocolate before?”

You’ve never spoken to Yoongi like this, easy and light, and it’s… nice. He gives no indication of surprise at your sudden friendliness after months of barely talking. If anything he looks pleased, and at one point he even gives you a smile you’ve never seen before, wide and wonderful, flashing his teeth and gums. (The crush gremlin rattles at your ribcage like prison bars, trying desperately to escape, but you don’t give it a chance.)

“Alright, let me just swap with the other barista, he’s still not gotten the Candy Cane Dreams recipe down.”

You hear a suspicious crunch as you make your way over to Taehyung. He turns to you with a guilty smile, edged with sugar, munching on shards of candy cane while his back is to the customers.

“You’re terrible,” you say affectionately. “Go take over on the till, I have a special to make.”

Taehyung glances over, sees Yoongi making his way down to the collection point. “Huh. Alright.”

The Candy Cane Dreams recipe might be a questionable one, but it’s definitely fun to make (watching the white hot chocolate turn green makes you feel like a kid all over again, mixing shampoos together in your bathroom and calling them potions), and maybe you’re overly generous with the candy cane bark, giving Yoongi’s beau more to nibble on and enjoy. It’s not Christmas yet but you’re already in a giving mood, so sue you.

“Here you go.” You slide the drinks towards him, the man busy reading one of the vacancy fliers, eyes flicking away from the poster when you appear. Your lips quirk up. “Looking for a job?”

You’re expecting a huff of a laugh, a small shake of the head, but he answers you seriously. “Not me, but I have a friend who is,” he says, reaching to take the tray.

You realise your hands are still curled around the cardboard; you quickly pull away so that there’s no chance your hands will brush. (You might have shoved your crush down as far as it will go, but you have to be careful with your weak, gooey heart.)

“We could do with any help, honestly. Your friend is more than welcome to apply.” You glance over at the queue, which is small but ever present, and you know it’ll only get worse as time goes on. “And, hey, if you ever decide for a change of pace from whatever it is you do, we’d be glad to have you, too.”

This gets a laugh from him, a warm burst of sound. (The gremlin points out that this is the first time you’ve heard him laugh, really laugh, a little raspy and a little quiet and altogether lovely; you beat the gremlin back with a stick.) “I’m better at drinking coffee than I am at making it,” Yoongi says, eyes soft with lingering amusement. “I’ll leave that to the experts.”

You might have gone off script, but the nod he gives you is his usual one, that familiar tilt of the head. “See you next week?” His eyes are dark, dark and deep, and it’s so hard not to fall into them, to fall all over again.

“See you next week,” you echo, hoping the smile you plaster on your face doesn’t look as forced as it feels, as you struggle once more. Yoongi is just nice, okay? He's just being nice, but still. He needs to let a girl breathe.

(He needs to let the gremlin of her crush wither away, instead of making it threaten to come back as strong as before, fuelled by his smile and his eyes and his everything.)

(... maybe you’re not as over this crush as you thought you were.)

It seems like the we’re hiring! posters actually worked.

“I’m Jungkook,” says the new starter, all crooked smiles and warm eyes and thighs so thick they threaten to split the trousers of the café’s uniform, ties of his apron emphasising his small waist.

(“Good lord,” Taehyung says faintly.)

It’s the last week of November and even though Jungkook is still learning the ropes, he’s a massive help, and you know he’ll be a lifesaver over Christmas. He’s eager, learns quickly, and gets stuck right in, material of his shirt straining across his shoulder blades when he rips a bag of coffee beans open with his bare hands, rather than having to use scissors like you or Taehyung.

Taehyung watches with stars in his eyes as Jungkook pours the beans into the grinder. You cover your smile by sipping at one of the espresso shots Jungkook has pulled—full-bodied and dark, rich in your mouth.

“This is really good, Jungkook,” you say. He looks over, eyes squeezing into a smile.

“Thought it would be,” he says, and you can’t help but huff a laugh into the tiny espresso cup. He’s cocky and competitive, telling you that he’d never made coffee before but he was going to do a better job than any of the other baristas here. He’s too endearing to come across as arrogant, though, and you have to admit that the coffee is good. (Not as good as yours or Taehyung’s, of course, but still. Pretty good.)

Taehyung coos at him and reaches out to shamelessly squeeze his bicep. “Jungkookie is a natural barista.”

Jungkook’s cocky smile turns equal parts pleased and flustered. You continue to sip at the espresso as Taehyung moons over him, then the bell above the door rings, and the mooning temporarily is put on hold. (Temporarily, because Taehyung continues to moon over him for the rest of the shift, insisting on doing the bulk of his training, which is fine by you.)

It’s the 1st of December tomorrow, so not only do you have to clean after the café is locked up, you have to put out all the Christmas decorations, too. But it’s more fun that it is work, the three of you dragging the tree out of the storage room and decorating it with a menagerie of tinsel and baubles; Jungkook lifts Taehyung so he can get the star on the tree, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist and hoisting him up effortlessly, leaving your friend with a pleased smile on his face.

Jungkook is new, only on his second shift, but he’s slotted in so easily. He laughs at Taehyung when he wiggles his butt along to the Christmas songs you've put on to play, and he helps steady the stepladder as you string garlands of snowflakes on the ceiling, even if he doesn’t really need to.

He absently readjusts the reindeer headband Taehyung had unearthed from the storage room and proudly placed on his head. “Yoongi-hyung talks a lot about this place,” Jungkook comments, offhand.

If you’d heard this a few weeks ago, you probably would have fallen off the stepladder, inner gremlin grabbing your heart with both hands and squeezing tight-tight-tight. As it is you only pause for a moment, one of the larger snowflakes cradled in your palm, before you go back to your job of hanging them up.

“So you’re the friend he mentioned that needed a job,” you say.

“That’s me.” Jungkook grins, boyish and bright, and you laugh. “He really, really likes this café. Wouldn’t shut up about it, even before he told me that you were hiring.”

You can’t imagine Yoongi gushing about a café to his friends, but then again, he clearly is passionate about his coffee. Jungkook will know him better than you, having a real friendship rather than this patron-and-customer back-and-forth that you’ve had, so who are you to imagine what’s normal for Yoongi and what isn’t? You didn’t even know he was in a relationship, after all. You don’t know anything about the guy, really.

“Well, we appreciate his custom,” you say. “I know Yoongi is the one who actually comes in, but you can thank his other half, too, and I hope they enjoy their drinks as well.”

You’re too busy hanging the garland to see the way Jungkook’s face twists.

“Huh?”

“You know. Yoongi always comes in for his Americano and the weekly special for his partner,” you say.

You’re focused on stepping down the ladder without falling to see the expression on Jungkook’s face, nose scrunched and lips pursed, like there’s something he’s smelled that he really doesn’t like.

“Did he say that to you? That it was for someone else?”

“Hm?” You pause in grabbing another string of snowflakes, glancing up. “Oh, no, I just worked it out, you know? Yoongi is a religious coffee drinker, why else would he order something that’s basically hot sugar water? I think it’s cute,” you add, belatedly. “That he always comes in to grab something for them, too.”

(You wish you had someone to do that for you.)

There’s a beat of silence. Jungkook’s holding the stepladder, ready to move it, staring at you in a way that’s weirdly intense. “I see,” he says, like that isn’t weird or mysterious at all.

Then he drags the stepladder’s rubber feet across the floor with such a loud noise that Taehyung startles, bauble falling out of his hand and shattering. Jungkook, of course, profusely apologises and insists on cleaning it up—but not before making sure Taehyung is okay, of course, grabbing his hands and looking over them, as if the bauble had broken in his palms and not the floor.

Taehyung looks immensely pleased. You just smile quietly to yourself, roll your eyes lightly, and go back to hanging snowflakes as Jungkook speaks to Taehyung, soft and low.

You think your favourite thing about training a new starter is witnessing their reaction to the weekly special.

“So,” Jungkook says, slowly. “You put in the whole gingerbread man—gumdrops and icing and all—and just blend it?

“Yep.” Taehyung’s reply is cheery. “Straight in and whizz it all up.”

This week, it’s You Can’t Catch Me, I’m the Gingerbread Frappé which is a) probably the longest name known to mankind and b) probably the most questionable name known to mankind and c) who orders a frappé in December?

These thoughts are clearly playing across Jungkook’s face as Taehyung coaxes him to drop the gingerbread man into the blender, and you’re too busy enjoying the consternation on Jungkook’s face to notice someone stepping up to the counter—until they clear their throat, that is, and you all turn.

“Hi,” Yoongi says.

“Oh! Hi,” Taehyung says.

“Hyung! Look!” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook, wait—” you say.

“Whirr,” the lidless blender says.

It’s chaos. Frappé ends up everywhere, splattered over the counter and the floor, splashed across the wine-red aprons of both of your fellow baristas, as close to the blender as they were—saving you from any of the sugary fallout, unwitting human shields.

There’s a beat of silence, where you all stare at each other—

And then Yoongi laughs.

You’ve never seen Yoongi laugh this loudly, eyes squeezed so hard you wonder if he can even see, almost cackling as he laughs at Jungkook’s expression, joyful and loud and free. It’s another dimension to him, another new part you witness as Jungkook wipes gingerbread and ice off his face and Taehyung stares at the mess spattered across his hands and arms.

It makes you think of a paper crane. Yoongi is this unfinished thing in your mind, each new thing you learn about him another fold that you add, a flat sheet of paper turned into something entirely and wholly new. You wish that it weren’t so alluring, watching it come together, finding out more and more about this man you’ve technically known for months, but only recently started to get to know.

(You wish that it wasn’t so easy to keep falling for him.)

Once the counter is cleaned, both Jungkook and Taehyung retreat to replace their aprons, leaving you—once again—alone with Yoongi. He’d stopped laughing to tease Jungkook, to gently rib him, but you can see the smile that’s etched on his face, the echoes of mirth written across all his features.

“We usually train the baristas to keep the lid on, I swear,” you say, and Yoongi’s face splits into another smile.

“I was going to say that it’s an unorthodox blending technique,” and you can’t help but smile back at this, even if you’ve been trying not to laugh. Professionalism barely wins out, your lips trembling as you try to hold your giggling back, but Yoongi spots it anyway, looking pleased, like he’s accomplished something by getting you to (nearly) laugh.

You’re not laughing when you have to make one of the special frappés, though. You stare at the gingerbread man as you hold him above the blender, at his cheery iced face and his cute little buttons (not the gumdrop buttons), and brace yourself to drop him.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and let him go, before quickly slamming the lid on top and turning the blender on so you don’t have to look at the betrayal you’ve just committed.

When you turn, Yoongi has an expression of sympathy on his face; for you or the gingerbread man, you can’t tell, but his face smooths the second he notices you looking at him, blinking innocently, as if there’s nothing unusual going on. It’s disarming, seeing that expression on his face, when you’d gotten used to seeing him act more reserved, but it’s cute.

(It is cute, whether you’re crushing on him or not. It’s just a statement of fact, okay? It’s nothing more than that. Even if that tiny gremlin of a crush still lives in your chest, scuffing its feet against your heart, reminding you of its presence when you least need it.)

(It digs its heels in when you put the frappé and Americano side by side, nestled snug in their cardboard tray. You slide it towards Yoongi and you’re a little too slow, fingers brushing his when he reaches for them; you’re surprised by how quickly he moves, how eager he seems to be reaching for his order, fingertips dragging across the back of your knuckles, and the gremlin kicks your heart, pulse rising just at that glancing touch. Even if you know it’s fruitless, useless, you can’t help but like Yoongi anyway.)

(“See you next week,” he says, and you can’t do anything but smile helplessly back.)

You normally love snow. You love waking up to the sight of it, pure and pristine white, adding another dimension to your familiar world—you love snowball fights and snowmen and snow angels, even if it all leaves you feeling cold, chilled right to the bone, nose running and hands freezing. The best part about winter is getting warm again, the season of throw blankets and hot water bottles, knitwear and scarves, tea and hot cocoa, all cosy and lovely and wonderful.

It’s a bit different when you have to work all day, though. You watch as the snow on the streets outside is threatened by the spray of salt and a thousand spinning car wheels and busy feet, ice turned to slush water; for now the snow is winning, though, and judging from the weather forecast, you think that’ll be the case for the rest of the day. You hope it lasts through to tomorrow, too; by the time you get home you’ll be too tired and it’ll be too dark to play in the snow, and it leaves you feeling disappointed and sad.

(Winter is lovely but it can be a hollow season, too, something about the leafless trees and fogged windows making everything feel like an empty dream.)

At least Paradise is warm, even if you’re cooped up inside, safe from the still-falling snow that keeps trying to turn the world into an untouched, frozen wonderland. It’s quiet in the coffee shop today. Only the bravest of people have ventured out into the not-a-blizzard-but-basically-a-blizzard, plastered against radiators and putting drinks to their faces, letting hot steam heat their cold cheeks.

It’s why you’re both surprised and unsurprised when Yoongi appears, bell chiming above his head as the door swings shut and he stamps his feet on the front mat, knocking snow off his boots. He somehow looks disgruntled and soft all at the same time, a royal blue beanie on his head forcing his fringe down to sit messily over his eyes, bundled up warm even if his face is scrunched up and his cheeks are red from the cold.

“I hate cold weather,” he tells you once he reaches the counter, gloves peeled off his fingers so he can reach for his wallet, his nose tinged pink as he sniffs.

You proffer him a box of tissues. “You look like you need it,” you say gently, and he smiles at you, a warm hearth in the cold winter.

“Thank you.” His voice is equally as gentle as yours, and something aches in your chest.

It’s just you behind the counter right now, so you take Yoongi’s order and make the drinks too—one large Americano and one large Latteggnog (a basic latte made with eggnog instead of milk, rich and thick and creamy), this week’s special: everyone’s favourite Christmas drink, but with a twist of coffee.

The quiet gives you time to think. Jungkook and Taehyung are out back, the older barista coming up with the most ridiculous excuses to take them away from the counter; you don’t mind that they’re taking the time ‘counting the coffee beans’, as deserted as the café is.

The café is practically empty and Yoongi hates the cold but here he is, venturing into the ice and snow to get this person he cares about the drink they want, because they’re that special to him. (You hope they realise how lucky they are.)

You’re normally okay being single. Don’t really think about it. But there’s something about today, this moment, that has you reflecting; Taehyung has this budding thing with Jungkook, Yoongi has this steady thing with his love, and here you are, by yourself, alone. It’s hard to summon up your usual energy, going through the motions as you make the drinks. You tilt your head forward, dusting nutmeg on the eggnog latte, watching the way the sprinkle of spice settles delicately and softly in the foam. No flourish, no flick of the wrist, not today.

(There’s two cups in front of you now, but later, when you’re home, there’s just going to be one. Yours. Yours, and no one else’s.)

(When you get home, you’re going to do what any self-respecting single person would do: order too much takeaway, rewatch The Good Place, get emotional over Eleanor and Chidi’s relationship—they’re so different but they’re so perfect for each other, why can’t you have that?—mope for a bit, rewatch The Princess Bride, get emotional over Westley and Buttercup—where’s your cute farmboy who saves you from an evil prince?—mope a bit more, before finally climbing into bed and hugging a pillow to your chest in the space of having someone else there. You know. Perfectly normal single person things.)

When you turn to Yoongi, drinks ready and raring to go, you’ve forced a Customer Service Smile onto your face. They say that just the act of smiling makes you happier, right? Maybe if you smile hard enough, you’ll cheer up, chasing away this sudden sadness that lingers in the back of your throat, scratching at your lungs like black ice.

“Here you go!” Your voice seems too loud for the quiet hush of the café, but you roll with it anyway. “Enjoy your drinks!”

Yoongi takes them from you, hands carefully cupped around the tray, but his eyes don’t leave your face. He doesn’t return your smile, as convincing as it should be (even Taehyung struggles to tell between your real smile and your work smile, sometimes); he stands for a moment, looking at you.

You think he’s about to say something when he clearly thinks better of it. He tilts his head, like he always does, but you’d swear his expression is tinged with concern. “Thanks,” he says. Pauses. “The roads are really icy. Get home safe, okay Y/n?”

Blink, blink. Your eyelashes flutter. You suddenly realise that he’s never said your name out loud, never had a need to, even if he must have known it all along from the badge on your chest. It sounds so good in his mouth, soft and safe.

“Oh,” you say, slow with surprise. “Thank you. I will. You, too.”

Yoongi nods again, as if to himself, before he turns to go.

He stops one more time before he goes. He stands at the open door, glances over his shoulder before he steps out, dark eyes meeting yours, as if checking that you’re still there, still tethered to the ground. Seems satisfied when he finds that you are. He gives you one last smile, all soft around the edges—that’s something you know intimately about Yoongi, that he’s soft through and through, even if he can look sharp, as cold as the ice outside—and then he goes, back into the falling snow to deliver a steaming sip of warmth into the hands of the person he loves.

(Your heart aches.)

It’s the week before Christmas. The whole world has that feeling it always does at this time of year—excited and bright, if a little frantic, the hanging lights in the city a backdrop to people’s last minute shopping, their breaths pluming out into the air as they rush around in the cold. The whole world feels full of life, that final push towards the end of the year; the hearth fire of Christmas before that weird in between before the new year, that held breath of potential, before the clock ticks over and the world is thrown into the next year.

Paradise has been busy. It’s like summer, only instead of sundresses and shorts, everyone is in knitwear and scarves, shivering as they wait to be served, desperate for a drink to warm them up, something to eat to fill their bellies. You spend more time in the coffee shop than you do at home, pulling overtime shifts to help your fellow baristas out—everyone thinks Christmas is a time of relaxation and coming together, but it doesn’t feel like that when you work in a customer facing job, oh no. It’s just non-stop busyness and being rushed off your feet.

(You’d barely had a chance to speak to Yoongi, café full when he’d stepped in, your pace frenetic as you’d danced around behind the counter with Taehyung and Jungkook; you’d slid his drinks towards him, his Americano and the special, and maybe your smile had looked more harrowed than you thought because he’d caught your hand and squeezed it.

“I hope you get a chance to rest over Christmas,” he’d said, concerned and sincere, as you’d stood in stunned silence, not expecting that almost-intimate touch, gentle against your skin.

“I will,” you’d said eventually. Yoongi had seemed to suddenly realise he was still touching you, fingers clasped around yours, and he’d withdrawn quickly, giving you a smile that felt like a whispered secret, before leaving you to deal with the ever-growing queue.)

Suffice to say, it’s been a long week, and you’re tired, and your feet hurt after all the running around you’ve been doing, and you just want to go home. You just need to finish the close, need to finish setting everything up for the open tomorrow, need to finish cleaning everything, and then you can get some sleep.

At least, that’s what you thought. Instead, you’re standing across from Jungkook and staring at him incredulously. You can feel a headache coming on.

“Wait.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What do you mean, we need to deliver some coffee?”

You don’t know if Jungkook is being deliberately obtuse, but he just stares at you as if you’re the one talking nonsense right now, and not him. “We have a customer order to deliver,” he says.

“Yes, I gathered that,” you say. “I just mean, why did no one tell me sooner?”

Paradise doesn’t do deliveries, as such. You cater for events, and you technically do deliveries then, but it’s less ‘one coffee to go’ and more ‘enough sandwiches and pastries and bagels and coffee to feed an entire office’. It’s not that you can’t bring someone their order directly, it’s more that you just… don’t.

“Taehyung took the order,” Jungkook says, as if that explains everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose again. You can’t ask Tae about it, the other man having had to leave just as you’d been about to flip the sign to closed (‘Jimin says Tannie peed in his shoes again! I have to go clean it up! I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll cover a close for each of you next time!’), so it’s just you, and Jungkook, and the slip of paper on the counter between you. You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough to trust his judgement and his decisions, as inexplicable as they might seem sometimes, but you do think it’s weird that he’s taken this delivery on board.

“It’s not too far from here,” Jungkook adds, peering at the address on the paper. “It won’t take long.”

“We have to finish closing, Jungkook,” you say.

He shrugs casually, carelessly. “I’ll do it, I don’t mind. You can just do the delivery and then go home straight after, it’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” you mumble. “Why can’t you deliver it?”

“You’re the senior barista, you’re a better representative of the brand,” he says, and you have no idea where he pulled that from. (You blame Jimin. You know they’ve had shifts together, and Jimin is too smooth-talking for his own good.)

As much as you want to argue, you can’t help but cave, because the prospect of getting home early is one that you’re not about to sniff at. (You’d worry that Jungkook would get home late, what with the amount of prep he still needs to do for tomorrow, but you half suspect that Taehyung will reappear at some point, anyway.) You’re too tired to want to argue. “I just want to say this is a one off, and normally we cater for events, we’re not really a delivery service, okay?”

“Duly noted.”

It’s a simple enough order, anyway—it’s just two drinks. The first is a large quad shot latte with caramel and toffee syrup, extra whipped cream and cinnamon on top (something you’d definitely order, you think, indulgent and milky and with enough caffeine to kick you up the ass). Jungkook dutifully cleans as you start the second drink. The special this week is far, far less sweet than normal; a Rudolph the Red-eyed Reindeer: a simple red eye with a pinch of holiday spice, coffee with an extra espresso shot and topped with cinnamon and nutmeg. You take in a deep breath, swallowing down the warm smell and letting it flow through you before you double check the details on the note.

It takes you a second as you squint at the address, wondering why it looks familiar—and then you pause. This is Yoongi’s office, you think to yourself, and it feels a little like there’s an apricot pit sitting heavy in your stomach, heavy and hard. Paradise had catered a breakfast for them last week, and it hadn’t been on your shift and so you hadn’t gone, but—you’d heard enough about it from Jimin, the type who gets to know everyone and everything the second he walks in the door. You’d heard about the team that Yoongi manages, found out that Yoongi works in music, in artist and repertoire, and when you’d had the chance to Google exactly what that meant, you’d been bowled over. He has such a complex, high skilled job, and here you are, struggling to get a job with your degree, hence the barista thing. (Thanks, economy.)

You hastily shuffle past the address, trying to ward off your sudden sense of inadequacy, focusing on the name instead. What sort of name is Suga? you think to yourself, and then shrug. Probably one of the workers had enjoyed the breakfast the other week and was still hanging around before going on holiday for Christmas, or something.

“Alright, I’m off.” You’re ready to advance into the cold outside: coat on, scarf looped around your neck and hat secure on your head, cardboard tray of drinks clutched in your hands. “If you need help closing, just call me and I’ll come back, okay?”

“I won’t, but, thanks,” Jungkook says, equal parts self-assured and reassuring. “Don’t fall on your ass!”

It is icy outside, the entire world a winter wonderland, beautiful but cold and daylight long gone; snow drifts slowly from the sky above, dusting your shoulders and the top of your hat, flakes caught so softly by the weave of your clothes. It’s the kind of day that’s perfect spent indoors, curled up with the people you love, warmed through and through—and here you are, picking your way across the pavement slush to deliver a coffee to someone. (You’re not even getting paid for this.)

At least it’s not too far, really, just a few blocks away. The building is small, which is a plus, because it means you won’t have multitudes of rooms and offices to trawl past to get to your destination. The receptionist is more than helpful, too, when you say that you have a delivery for Suga; she gives you exactly directions and then she smiles at you, pleasant and pretty and lovely, and that gremlin that’s still clinging desperately onto your feelings for Yoongi whispers: what if this is Yoongi’s girlfriend? She’s beautiful.

Shut up, you think, before smiling back and thanking her, and heading on your way.

This close to Christmas you’d think that the building would be almost empty, but you’d be wrong. It’s not a buzzing hive of activity but there are still people walking around, speaking behind closed doors or laughing through open ones, decorations and tinsel hanging from the ceiling. Up ahead you see a someone come out of a room, shutting the door behind them before they walk in your direction. It’s a man who looks like he’s just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine and as you pass in the corridor he pauses, raising his eyebrows at you. Not suspicious, just surprised.

“Uh, I have a coffee for Suga,” you say without prompting, as if he was about to accuse you of some sort of nefarious scheme and your coffee delivery is the only thing saving you from that.

“Oh,” mister-model-handsome says, suddenly smiling widely, like this is all perfectly normal and not weird at all. He’s got some of the poutiest lips you’ve ever seen. “You’re nearly there, he’s just down the corridor and on the right. Have fun!”

“Uh, you too?” you reply. (Is he Yoongi’s boyfriend? He’s tall and broad shouldered and incredibly attractive, with the type of smile that makes people’s hearts race, and Yoongi definitely deserves someone like that.)

Your destination seems to be the office the (probably) model just came out of. You look around the corridor, which seems to be deserted now, the hubbub of people elsewhere in the building. You knock quietly, not wanting to disturb the hush that’s filled the air around you.

A beat. Then: “Come in,” someone says, voice muffled through the door.

It swings open easily at your touch. You stand on the threshold, mouth open around the announcement of your delivery when the words die on your lips.

Yoongi’s there, sitting behind a desk and his head bowed as he scribbles something in a notebook. He doesn’t look up. “Shut the door,” he says. Dumbstruck, you do just that, and it’s not until the door’s quietly clicked shut that he starts to raise his head. “Hyung, I already said that I don’t need to eat—”

And then he spots you standing there.

He stops mid-sentence, mouth open, eyes widening. He looks as shocked as you feel, utterly taken aback and agog, and even now you can’t help but notice how good he looks. He’s in a black button up, sleeves rolled to the elbow and top button undone, revealing the pale skin of his collarbones. It’s another juxtaposition, the Yoongi that you’re familiar with (an aura of effortless authority and attractiveness) in a place you don’t know at all, completely professional, his desk neat and the entire space put together. There’s a tastefully decorated tree in the corner but it doesn’t throw off the balance of the room at all.

“Uh.” You cough lightly. “I have… a delivery… for Suga?”

Yoongi stares at you.

“Is this… not the right room? I can go,” you mumble, gesturing over your shoulder with a thumb.

This seems to snap Yoongi out of whatever thoughts he was having as he shakes his head. “No, this is… Suga’s office,” he says. “I just didn’t order any coffee.”

You open your mouth. Shut your mouth. You don’t have an Americano on the tray, but he’d probably like the red eye, coffee with extra coffee, no sugar or cream. Just a little pinch of spice.

“Maybe it was a surprise, or something? Couples get each other gifts all the time.”

Yoongi’s lips quirk up. “I’m not really the type that gets surprised with gifts.”

Something about this strikes a discordant note in you. He’s always delivering gifts of coffee—he deserves those expressions of love returned to him. You can’t help but say as such.

“You’re always giving gifts, though,” you say. “Those weekly specials. I wouldn’t be surprised if your other half is returning the favour.”

Blink, blink. He looks perplexed. “I don’t have an other half?”

Your mouth opens again. “Uh,” you say eloquently. “What?”

“I… don’t have an other half? I’m… single?”

“You’re…” Your face scrunches up, wrinkled in confusion. What? He’s… what? “But you always buy two drinks?”

Silence. Then: “I… the Americano is for me,” he says. “I usually just pour the special away. I only started ordering them because you got so excited talking about them and making them. I never planned on drinking them.”

Your mouth falls open, soft around a quiet breath, a soft oh. “You—wait. You ordered them because I got excited about them?”

Yoongi’s eyes are so dark, so gentle; melted chocolate, warm. “You started to talk to me more, after the first time I did,” he says, and you know you had. Because you thought it was safer to talk to him, though you were secure in the knowledge he wasn’t single—but he is single. “So I kept doing it, because I wanted to talk more to you. I thought you knew? And that’s why you started having real conversations with me.”

You’re frozen in place, eyes as big as dinner plates. Min Yoongi, your futile crush, who looks as sharp as a knife but is as sweet as spun candyfloss, has been coming back week after week—for you. He’s not in a relationship, and he’s been flirting with you.

Or at least he thought he had been. You, however, hadn’t even realised.

“I was going to ask you on a date after Christmas,” he continues, calm and steady, as if your brain isn’t melting. He’s still sitting behind his desk, and there’s something about his tousled hair and bared lower arms—watch on one wrist and a few bracelets on the other—that has your heart pounding, that casual air somehow not at odds at the weight of the surroundings. Because the world is a backdrop to Yoongi, and he makes it work.

“What the fuck,” you say. You realise you’ve never sworn in front of him when something flickers in his eyes; not a bad flicker, no. Definitely not. “I thought you were taken.”

“I’m very single,” he says lightly, belying the weight behind the words. And then his eyes drop to your hands. “You said you have a coffee for me?”

Which leads to this: Yoongi, in his chair, you, leaning against his desk. He’s taken the red eye (of course) while you sip at the latte, relishing the punch of espresso, the flavour of the syrups.

You’re both staring at each other as you drink, air in the room growing thicker by the moment, when Yoongi breaks the silence. “This is probably the only weekly special I’d actually want to drink.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Black coffee with more espresso? That’s you all over,” you say. “The other specials aren’t so bad, though. I think you just need to give sweet drinks a chance.”

You’re speaking without thinking, but the second those words leave your mouth, the air turns electric. Yoongi’s still staring at you, unwavering and intent, and everything inside you is melting, leaving you flushed and hot. The smile hasn’t left his face, which had been warm but it’s changed, evolved, edged with something sharper.

“If you say so,” he says. His eyes are on your lips. “Let me try?”

His fingers are so gentle on your face, hands cupping your jaw as he tilts your head down. All your thoughts leave you. There’s nothing in your mind but Yoongi, his warm hands and dark eyes, the heat of his body so close to yours, his mouth; you can’t help but look down, tracing the shape of his lips with your gaze, a small soft pout that’s so at odds with the weight of his intensity.

When he kisses you, it’s featherlight. Barely the softest of pressures, the potential of something more—and then he pulls you in deeper, and there it is, that heat flickering in your stomach jumping into a full fire. The kiss turns hot and wet as he licks the flavour of caramel and toffee syrup out of your mouth, and he tastes like coffee, dark and bitter; you make a noise against his lips and he swallows it down, pulls you closer.

You’re straddling his knees, a little awkward and cramped in his office chair, but you don’t care. You’ve been wanting to kiss Yoongi for so long, even when you felt like you shouldn’t, thought about his dark eyes and pink mouth, the curve of his lips, the paleness of his hands; a steadying presence around your waist, holding you in place.

When you pull apart, Yoongi’s lips are flushed, kiss swollen. It looks good on him. Really good on him.

“I’ve thought about that more than I’d like to admit,” he says, and you can’t help but feel warmed by it, the realisation that you’ve wanted to kiss him but he’s wanted to kiss you, too.

“This really isn’t comfortable,” you say, wriggling a little—your ass is starting to go numb, sat on Yoongi’s knees—and Yoongi sucks in a quick breath at the way you’re all but squirming in his lap, even if he doesn’t say anything.

Oh, you think.

When you move away, he lets you go without protest, hands sliding off your waist. It’s not until you fall to your knees that Yoongi realises what you’re doing, his eyes widening.

“Y/n,” he breathes. “You don’t have to—”

“Please, Yoongi, I’ve wanted to do this for months,” you say. Maybe it was a little crass to start with, wanting to get on your knees for a man you barely knew just because he was hot and polite to you, but now you know he wants you back. You’re not about to let this opportunity pass you by, staring up at him between his knees, hands braced on his thighs. “But if you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

He looks torn, just for a second, eyes darting away from your face and to the door. It’s shut, but it’s not locked, and though the building is quiet there’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk in at any second.

Without thinking, you lick your lips. Yoongi’s eyes flicker back at the motion, watching how your tongue moves, and you can see how he crumbles.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he says, and you dig your nails into his trousers, electricity shooting through you.

“You’ll have to keep your voice down,” you warn, and reach for his zipper.

It’s a struggle for him, you can tell. He’s already biting his lip by the time you’ve tugged his trousers and boxers down, hardening under your grasp, and you knew his dick would be as pretty as the rest of him. You don’t have the luxury of worshipping him the way you want to, acutely aware of the fact you’re in his office, but it doesn’t mean you’re not going to make Yoongi feel good. It’s dirty and messy, the way you suck his cock into your mouth lewd and wet, lavishing attention on the most sensitive parts; his hips jump as you circle the head with your tongue and jerk the rest of his length with a hand.

Everything’s sloppy with spit and precum and Yoongi’s biting off curses, hand tightening in your hair as you take in as much of him as you can, relaxing your throat and swallowing him down, down, down. When you look up at him through your lashes he looks wrecked, the paleness of his skin flushed pink, and you can’t wait to see that all over. Can’t wait to see Yoongi entirely bare in front of you, when you have the luxury of time and pleasure.

But there’s something about this, too, that has your heart racing, cunt throbbing. You’re running your spit slick lips down the side of his shaft, tonguing the throb of the vein there, when you hear footsteps nearby, muffled through the door. It doesn’t sound like they’re coming in this direction and Yoongi seems almost entirely lost to the feeling of your mouth on him, but you flick your tongue across the spot where the head of his cock meets the shaft and he bows forward, swallowing down the noise that threatened to spill from his lips. He’s so fucking hot like this, falling apart under your hands and mouth, and you know he’ll give as good as he gets.

“Gonna cum,” he rasps. You smile up at him before taking his cock back into your mouth, jerking him off hard and fast as you lick and suck—and when he cums it’s with a noisy exhale of breath, a muffled groan, and even as you’re swallowing down his cum and mouthing at him until he winces with oversensitivity, you’re imagining what he sounds like when he doesn’t have to be quiet.

He’s not shy, either. You’ve barely tucked him back in when he’s reaching for you, kissing you. There’s no taste of coffee any more and you shiver, molten and boneless at the way his tongue presses into your mouth.

“Still want to take me on a date?”

You’re being cheeky, voice light as you joke, but Yoongi’s responding look is equal parts serious and affectionate. He sweeps a thumb over your cheekbone and you relax into his hands, feeling like a cat that got the cream. Here you are, on your knees in his office, the glittering lights of his Christmas tree thrown across your hair and skin, warmed by the touch of a man you’ve wanted for months but never thought you would get.

“Of course,” he murmurs, gentle-gentle-gentle, as if you hadn’t just sucked his soul through his dick—and you love that about him, love his inherent soft core, his big heart. You might not know him as well as you’d like—not yet—but you already know that much about him. “I owe you a present, too.”

Your face scrunches. “What, because I gave you a blowjob?”

At this he laughs, mouth split wide and gums on show as his whole body shakes with the intensity of it. “No, because you brought me a coffee,” he says. He still has your cheek cupped in his hand, palm warm against your skin. “But if you want to say it’s because of the blowjob as well, then sure.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.” You smile at him, gentle expression at odds with the meaning behind the words and your position—still on your knees.

You don’t know if they ache when you stand, because Yoongi is kissing you again, distracting you. And it’s easy, this back and forth you have, comfortable as you finish the (now lukewarm) coffees and get ready to go, because Yoongi insists on walking you home. Because he’s a gentleman, your gentleman, and he even holds the door open for you.

You’re not sure if you can reach for his hand, if that would be too forward in his place of work, if he doesn’t want to when this thing between you is so tentative and new. But you’re barely halfway down the corridor when he stops you with a gentle hand on your arm; when you look over, he’s smiling at you, and then tilts his chin up.

“Oh!” You stare at the huge bundle of mistletoe above you, tied with red ribbon and messily taped to the ceiling. It brings a smile to your face. “Oh, how cute.”

The hand on your arm shifts down. Yoongi weaves his fingers with yours.

“You know about the tradition, right?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and it’s not just from the lights from the ceiling above, turning his dark eyes into warm chocolate, deep brown. “Kissing under the mistletoe?”

You can’t help but blink, surprised at his sweetness, his forwardness. There’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk by right now, to see the two of you hand in hand under the mistletoe, but Yoongi doesn’t care at all. He’s staring at you like you’re the only other person in the world, and you feel like a fountain of champagne is bubbling inside you, heady and sparkling and light.

“I think I’ve heard of it,” you say, and he’s still smiling, a small thing, just for you. “Do you think you can show me?”

And he does, with his hand in yours, your lips against his, and up above, the mistletoe sparkles.

(Your phone rings. Caller ID says it’s Taehyung, but when you pick up, he’s not the one who speaks.

“So.” Jungkook sounds knowing, his voice bordering on smug. “How did the delivery go?”

In the background you can hear someone crowding close, put it on speaker, Kookie, I want to hear too, and you can’t help but smile at Taehyung’s eagerness.

“Good,” you say. Yoongi’s palm is warm against yours and you swing your joint hands together, looking at him, entranced by the way the snowflakes dust his eyelashes. The sky above is dark and the wind around you is cold, but the man beside is so bright and warm. You feel wrapped up in it. “Yoongi says he’s going to kill you, by the way.”

“He won’t,” Jungkook says cheerfully, loud enough that Yoongi can hear. He looks fond.

“Well, tell Taehyung I’m going to kick his ass for lying about Tannie peeing on Jimin’s shoes,” you say.

“You won’t,” Taehyung says, equally as cheerful, and you can’t help but smile.

“No, I won’t,” you say.

You think about the seasons. You think about the man walking beside you; the man who says he hates cold weather, but has kept his gloves off so he can feel your hand against his. The man who came out in the snow to order a drink, just to make you smile. The man who looks like winter but feels like spring, something cold bursting into potential, new life.

In the depth of winter, under the snow and twinkling Christmas lights above, Yoongi squeezes your hand.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon @vensulove

#btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #magicshopnet #houseofddaeng #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts #yoongi au #bts au #yoongi #yoongi scenario #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist #PLEASE feel free to message me with any typos or whatever and I'll get on those when I have a chance

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