#bts coffee shop AU

[moccahobi]

Cafe Amore [Jimin x Taehyung]

Summary: Taehyung and Jimin live two opposite lives only connected by their work at a coffee shop. Yet Jimin desperately wants more. Can they bond over coffee despite Taehyung disliking it?

Personal Prompt: How does Cafe Amore make such good coffee? Simple! They make regular sacrifices to coffee gods.

Paring: Jimin (BTS) x Taehyung (BTS)

Genre: Coffee Shop AU, Fluff

Warnings: Light mention of human sacrifices

Word Count: 2.5k words

A/N: This is part of @thebtswritersclub project "heating up"! I also got the prompt "coffee shop au" which I am a sucker for. And I had an old prompt I wrote that I could use! Also. Normally I use photos from BTS's facebook for my banners. Today, I used ones from the BTS World Wiki. I remembered Jimin having been a mochi maker and just knew the vibes would fit.

In a world of darkness and frustration, what is the one thing that can brighten it all?

For Jimin and his world of darkness ( the morning rush at Cafe Amore), the answer is the boxy and warm smile of Kim Taehyung (his coworker and the only person working the front with him). The morning rush had started sooner than he was scheduled though, and Jimin was flooded with coffees, drowning in an aroma he previously loved. It was a bad idea for the coffee aficionado to work here, cursed to explain over and over again what a piccolo and a (real) macchiato are.

An hour into the rush and Taehyung finally enters. Bless his heart but he knew nothing about coffee before working at the cafe. He didn't even drink it. Instead his mind was on the specialty drinks and fun flavors he could make. It was endearing and scary how much sugar Taehyung could consume when practicing his drinks. Cafe Amore has amazing beans that shouldn't be ignored, yet here Taehyung was, almost always ignoring it. It did mean that Taehyung took Mr. "Cat" when he came in asking for a "macchiato" which Jimin was forever grateful for. 

He was Jimin's best (work) friend, and Jimin always found himself thinking about how he might become real friends. The ocean between work friends and real friends felt insurmountable though. Nothing in sight and mapless.

Instead Jimin tried to find comfort in being work friends, to savor their laughter and treasure the smiles. Taehyung didn't seem like someone who'd be friends with Jimin anyways. A jazzy free spirit didn't seem to mesh well with an uptight perfectionist. Jimin spent all his freetime locked away in a dance studio while Taehyung explored the city and found niche places all around. They seemed to live in separate worlds bridged only by their work.

Jimin tapped Taehyung's calf as he rushed to get changed in the back. The rush was no where near done but now at least the rush would feel better. Taehyung was a magical salve full of small comments and smiles that fueled Jimin to keep going. 

"I went to a jazz bar this weekend. It was so fun! When we have a chance, I'll show you pictures." Taehyung said as he signed into the next register, his warm hand patting Jimin's shoulder.

Jimin nodded, swallowing the silly feelings of jealousy over being able to see these events but not be let in. He chose being a busybody, but sometimes he wished for more. Taehyung made him want more. 

"I had to work all weekend," Jimin forced a laugh, "Jazz sounds so much nicer."

With that, the two slid into a silent dance, rushing around to feed and fuel the 100+ coffee (and non-coffee) lovers who filled the rush. Not infrequently, they'd brush against each other, the barista bar space a glorified gap between the counters. Jimin felt himself relaxing when they bumped into each other, Taehyung's warmth a kind break from the fire of customers and the boil of the barista machine.

Two hours later, Taehyung was able to finally make himself a smoothie and the two could take a breather.

"One of the songs made me think of you." He started, the blender screaming over him, "I mean, I don't know how to dance well, but it seemed like one that would have great potential for dancing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Do you dance to jazz much?"

Jimin shrugged, "Not really. I'd be down to try though."

Try for you. His traitorous mind supplied, And then maybe you can come watch me perform.

"What do you dance to then?" Taehyung asked as he filled his cup and grabbed a straw.

"Contemporary and ballet. But I've not had much time lately," Jimin sighed and looked down, "My dance studio cut the classes I'm teaching so I've been picking up more shifts here."

Taehyung nodded, "Lot's more?"

"I mean... My pay here is much worse than my pay at the studio so yeah. I get to see the place at much quieter hours now though."

"That sounds creepy! I didn't think this place ever wasn't busy."

Jimin laughed, "There's a time between 3am and 5am that is near dead!"

Taehyung shook his head, "Sounds like a brutal time to be working. They should just close the shop then."

Jimin shrugged and took a sip of his latte.

"Were you working Saturday night?"

He nodded.

"That's when I went to this jazz bar. Want to see some of it now?"

Before long another rush came.Jimin was swept up in the hectic rush of the day,  one song in the backtrack of his mind. It hung over him and he found himself stealing away to his mind to choreograph it. It totally wasn't because of the cute video of Taehyung dancing to it surrounded by old couples. The song was just good.

It would be three more days before Taehyung and Jimin were scheduled together again. Their days off just slightly overlapped and left an awkward day when one was working and the other wasn’t. *It also meant that there was a day both had off.* Jimin was asked to take his break early that day, finally getting a moment off his feet to sit and breathe. Given… early meant 4 hours in rather than 5. One of the few things he hated about the cafe was never being able to breathe while working. There was almost always work to do and if there wasn’t, a manager could find more. Sure he and Taehyung spent their fair share of time talking, but if there wasn’t the threat of more work to do soon they were working on something as they talked.

Jimin took a deep breath and looked out of the shop, imagining what he'd be doing now if bills weren't such a threat. Maybe he'd be dancing. Maybe he'd be spending more time with his cat. Maybe he'd be with friends. It was times like this that made Jimin frustrated that he had to work to live. The world was cruel and unfair and his jobs weren’t lucrative. Even with a roommate, money could get tight. The stress of living sometimes weighed on Jimin more than it seemed it weighed on others. If only he didn’t need to work. If only he could leave and not work ever again.

Jimin sighed, not liking the upset he felt at the thought of working, wanting to focus on the fun he had with Taehyung at work. He spent so many hours of his life here, stuck in the cafe with a smile. Would he be happier if he didn't work here? if he was doing other things?

"Try my new drink!" Taehyung bounded over, a neon blue beverage in his hands like a neon blue light breaking Jimin’s dark thoughts.

Jimin laughed and felt some tension leave him. He refused to think about how many spoonfuls of sugar were in the drink but at least it looked unique. 

"It's a blueberry pie milkshake. One of my neighbors back home gave me a ton of blueberries that I'd been keeping in the freezer for a good time. Inspiration struck me so here it is!"

Jimin nodded, taking a slow sip the sugary sweetness coating his tongue and only barely cut through by a small hint of acid, "Mhhh. I imagine the customers who like dessert drinks will love this."

"What about you?" Taehyung asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Yeah. I think I would prefer it to be a bit tarter, but it's good." Jimin said, trying to think of how much more of him he could stomach of the sugary drink. His latte will help cut through the sugar so maybe a few more sips.

Taehyung nodded before going back behind the counter to continue working. Tiny cups lined upon the counter made Jimin worried. Was he going to offer free samples to customers? Jimin cut his break a bit shorter to toss the half-drunk milkshake out when Taehyung was in the back after watching Taehyung offer a tiny bit to anyone who passed the counter.

The rest of their day flowed uneventfully aside from one customer who spat out Taehyung’s milkshake and called it the “worst thing ever imagined”. Taehyung thankfully just laughed it off but it did mean more cleaning and Jimin took to doing it when Mr. Cat came in and his eyes zeroed in on the final batch of samples Taehyung had. That’d make the whole “worst thing ever imagined” ordeal disappear. 

Jimin was first to sign off and he found himself struck by the urge to stay later if only to get off at the same time as Taehyung. Theoretically he could stay and talk with Taehyung, but he had hours of housework to do and he didn’t want to be at this cafe longer than needed. Curse modern media for making it seem like grabbing a drink after work was a common thing.

With staggered shifts at the cafe, it meant that often only one person left at a time. Yet often it felt like the only thing he could try to branch the ocean of distance between work and life. How else would one become friends with coworkers? Sure Jimin had Taehyung’s number from the work chat… but was that really something he could use? No. Jimin sighed when he got into his car, taking a few moments to breathe before driving away.

Taehyung was at work before Jimin the next day, his eyes wide as he sipped a black drink.

"What ya' got there?" Jimin asked as he clocked in.

"Americano."

"Sugary?"

"No. It's black."

"Thought you didn't like black coffee," Jimin said with a laugh as he walked back to grab his apron.

"I didn't think I did. But Mr. Cat had some after getting a whiff of someone’s latte. Don’t ask me how or why he smelled someone’s latte. Made me decide to try one."

Jimin nodded but didn't know what to say. All their coffee smelled good to him and as he brewed himself a cappuccino, it didn’t smell different. Nor did it taste different when he took a sip. Well the milk did, but that was because they got a different brand. He watched as Taehyung reached for a second cup of americano and eventually a third.

"You might want to slow down on your coffee." Jimin finally said, reaching out to take the cup from Taehyung.

"Why? I'm enjoying the coffee."

Jimin nodded and laughed, "Yeah. But this has a lot of caffeine, especially if you've not had much caffeine before. Maybe switch to a decaf one? Or water? Maybe some food."

Taehyung sighed, "Wow. Ok, dad. This has water in it," But he did grab something to eat from his bag and started sipping on his water.

"The coffee here is really good though. You might really like it in a latte or cappuccino. The milk mellows out the bitterness."

Taehyung nodded, his cheeks filling with his breakfast bar, "How do they make it so good? This batch smelled better than others so maybe they changed a supplier?"

Jimin shrugged, "Not that I know of."

The conversation died down as a rush came, the usual caffeine junkies and work-in-cafe people coming and going throughout the two hours. Jimin was glad that Taehyung didn’t have a chance to make another drink for himself. The dude was definitely shaking from how much he already drank. 

"Omg! what if they started sacrificing people to make their coffee better?" Taehyung said, jumping from the chair he was lounging on during his break, his eyes wide. Jimin was thankful that Taehyung wasn’t holding his latte as he started swinging his arms around. 

Jimin laughed and shook his head.

"I've read stories of people investigating similar stuff, "Taehyung continued, coming up to the counter to whisper conspiratorially, "I once heard of someone... I think his name was Namjoon and he went searching into a coffee shop because their stuff suddenly got good but people were going missing. Do we know of anyone who went missing recently?

Raising an eyebrow, Jimin tried to think of where this story might have come from "I don't think so. Besides, I've been working 50 hours lately, when would they have had time to kidnap people? How would it even make the coffee better?"

Taehyung threw his hands up, his eyes widening with dramatics, "There are gods you can sacrifice people to, duh."

Did this come from a book Taehyung read? 

Jimin nodded, sipping his tea, "Sure. So this Namjoon dude went and investigated?"

Taehyung nodded, "Yeah. Apparently in the attic, there was a whole ass cult!" Taehyung shivered, "Imagine if that was happening here!"

"We have an office above us and no basement."

"You never know! What if they just told us that? Anyways Namjoon went missing apparently."

Jimin nodded, his mind finally landing on a book that fit what Taehyung was talking about. *Dungeons and Dry Cappuccinos.*, "Maybe Namjoon ended up being sacrificed. Maybe the missing people were a lure for people with no life who spent too much time online."

That last part wasn’t part of the story but it always seemed true to Jimin. 

Taehyung hummed, deep in thought, "I saw pictures of him somewhere. He's hot. I think he actually wooed this god named Seokjin. They, like, lived happily ever after. What if he and this god married and have coffee orchards?"

Jimin laughed, thinking back on the promotional material for the book, "I don't think coffee orchards exist."

"You know what I mean."

Jimin nodded, "If that's the case and no one has gone missing around us,how do we keep the coffee here so good? Clearly it’s good for the bank."

“Well our dessert drinks are more expensive so I don’t know about that. But…” Taehyung got quiet, his eyes focusing on nothing as he thought, "If Seokjin has blessed us then I think there has to be more love here. Not enough romance happens. That has to change."

Taehyung looked serious, his eyes burning with passion. Jimin felt alive with the intimidation and curiosity. What was Taehyung playing at?

Jimin laughed and shook his head, "How?"

"Go on a date with me."

His breath caught in his throat, unable to believe that Taehyung was asking this. Searching Taehyung’s face, Jimin saw no mirth anymore. Was he serious? 

"What?"

The sureness left Taehyung’s face and he looked down, scraping at some dried coffee grounds, "To appease the coffee gods, of course."

Was Taehyung just as unsure about getting closer? Jimin smiled, trying to calm the excitement in his stomach.

"Of course. It’s vital we appease Seokjin. When?"

[nightscapepersona]

Fly V to the Moon - Ch. 26

“The one where her heart flutters straight into the pond”

Hello! This chapter was long in the planning and such a joy to write. Listen to the playlist in the recommended songs for more fun. Leave a like if you enjoy this chapter... it genuinely, truthfully, sincerely means a lot! :)

Pairing: Taehyung x OFC

Genre: Fluff, Idol AU, Coffee Shop AU, Café Singer OFC, Slow Burn

Warnings: Light swearing, but it’s all for banter. Again, this is fluff.

Word count: 2.9k (Usually short chapters!)

Recommended Songs: The Astronaut — Jin; Sunflower — Harry Styles; Sunflower  — Post Malone & Swae Lee; you’re inside Monet paintings (playlist) — compiled by nobody

Summary: She’s a foreign elementary school teacher by day, a charming singer by night. Taehyung and company discover her at a small garden jazz café where she had a gig one night, only to find out from Jin that she was an arts teacher at a local school in Seoul — Jin's nephew and niece’s teacher, in fact. Taehyung finds himself on a surprise adventure to the moon.

Masterlist

Note about the Art: Did you know Monet painted 250 water lily paintaings as part of his series? They are also called Nymphéas. Real life Taehyung has expressed love for Monet’s paintings before, and some of his paintings are personal favorites of mine. As you may know, our OFC owns one particular art shirt based on one of his works that caught his attention all the way back in Chapter 2 and comes back in Chapter 20. I won’t give spoilers, but this is connected to Chapter 24. If you’re also an art lover, this virtual tour of Monet’s water lily murals might interest you. As another note, impasto is the painting technique used by Van Gogh, where brushstrokes are visible because paint is laid thickly on the canvas.

✻  ✻  ✻

Fly V to the Moon — by Nightscape Persona

Chapter 26: The one where her heart flutters straight into the pond

“Sunflower.”

A stroke.

“Sunflower.”

Another stroke.

“My eyes...”

One more stroke of ochre, just for good measure.

“Want you more than a melody.”

She continued to hum the song that she woke up singing and which refused to leave her mind as she layered strokes and strokes of ochre paint on her canvas.

À la impasto.

Impasto like her inspiration, which had turned up that morning in variegated brushfuls of thick and layered waves.

Yes, that morning Lia woke up and felt like painting.

Sunflowers.

It was mid-March. Snow was thawing. Green grass growing. Winter farewell show was coming.

And she had woken up with an insurmountable craving to paint and paint and paint until the ochre rays of sunlight had long faded into the blue of night.

As of lately, there had not been many mornings like this, where she awoke feeling inspired rather than absolutely hammered by the week.

As of lately, meaning as of long. With work and with the café and with life happening in between, painting had been relayed to the background. Ever since last September, perhaps, when the band convinced her to start guest-singing in their gigs.

“I've got your face.”

She dabbed more strokes of ochre on the canvas, shifting from humming to singing once more.

“Hung up high in the gallery.”

Life happening in between.

“I love this shade.”

Funny how “life happening” now included Taehyung.

“Sunflower.”

His brown eyes and his smile and his eye smiles and his brown hair turned ochre with the sunlight.

His irremediable charm.

Memories of their little dates that frequently intruded into her brain as little love letters throughout her day.

The proximity of his face.

The coldness of his hands.

The sound of his laughter, warm and deep and euphonious.

Him speaking sweet nothings in the little voice notes he started to send her everyday for the past two weeks.

Wait for me, sunflower.

The ghost of a kiss brushing past her lips.

Electricity and hummingbirds.

Maybe if I liked you less it wouldn’t be so hard to tell you this.

Recollections of words he’d said rotating around her mind every second of every hour like a merry-go-round.

I think I’ve fallen already.

A kiss or two burning on her lips.

Lia caught herself staring like stupid at the strokes on the canvas, brush mid air, paint beginning to dry.

She shook her head, giggling and blushing even when he was not there.

Perhaps she now had a muse.

Which was good.

He had already pretty much been her singing muse, a.k.a. source of nerves, since she had become aware of him attending the little gigs.

Stroke.

And he was not to blame, anyways, for not painting a thing for months. He had not yet broken into her life and made it swirl and capsize and ignite like so.

Stroke.

The most painting she had done was a few brushes and traces here and there when she helped the kiddos in class.

Funny.

As an arts teacher Lia barely painted at all.

So much for someone not wanting to become a monolith.

Out of the corner of her eye, she peeped the leaflet open flat on the console table across the room. A leftover from many months ago when she was checking out Art programs. Perhaps in France.

She dashed another stroke of ochre before any bit of regret or disappointment or whatever had time to kick in. She was happy, and she was painting now, and that’s what mattered.

Her phone buzzed.

Again.

It had been buzzing all morning.

She was deliberately ignoring it to paint.

She knew Taehyung would be busy that day, so she didn’t even bother to take a glance. Though perhaps the session could be paused to text Taehyung. A quick check in to ask how the trip was treating him that day. To let him know she was thinking of him.

She unlocked the phone.

The latest notification was a post. From Taehyung. She clicked it, immediately giddy.

It was—It was Water Lilies.

One of the many, at least.

A picture of one of the many Water Lilies paintings scattered around the world. He had tagged the location as the Metropolitan Museum of Art. New York. The caption was simply “Monet”.

She swept to the next pictures. More water lilies. And one bridge over the water lily pond. A collection of all the water lilies in that museum. A smile inevitably painted on her face. Oh, she adored him.

She gave the little post a like.

Her mind went back to their little moment in the garden when they’d discussed Monet. How the little scene seemed like a moment from a painting. Had he been thinking of her?

Her chest scrunched in fondness.

He had told her he’d visit some museums with Namjoon while they were in New York. He had told her he would send her all the pictures when he did. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he wanted to post them first. Not that she was resented or anything. Nope. She was definitely not pouting. 

Hold on.

Water lilies.

The gift.

The gift.

Her heart started to beat faster.

Her phone buzzed again.

He posted something else.

Another series of water lilies. And a bridge. This time at the Museum of Modern Art. New York.

A part of her brain was itching over the thought of whether this could be the sign. The other part was short-cutting over the fact that it was in fact the sign.

The caption read:

               Nymphéas, this is your sign.

Nymphéas. The water lilies.

It was indeed the sign.

Wait—Did he just call her water lily? Did he—he called her nymphéas—did he—okay, okay, okay. Her chest puffed up in rapture, nervous hummingbirds fluttering all over inside.

She jumped out of her little stool and ran to her room, where she kept it.

The gift.

She rushed back and placed it on the dining table. There it sat, mirroring her hesitation to open it in spite of the terrible itching to rip it open at once.

She started to unwrap the top like an envelope. Slowly, taking every precaution to not spoil the paper in any way. She could not and would not deface the water lilies, no. 

Top safely removed, she turned the precious package upside down.

Soft cotton fell on her hands.

A folded shirt.

White.

A design hinting below the border of the fold.

An image. A painting.

Lia almost wanted to squeal. She was almost certainly positive of what it was.

She let it unfurl to see its front, and a small paper fell from within.

The little note was handwritten by Taehyung.

               For my favorite art teacher with

               never enough art shirts to wear.

Her heart fluttered straight into the pond.

Of course.

It was water lilies.

Of course it was the water lilies.

One of the many water lilies.

A water lily shirts.

She let herself give out a little squeal. Why not. The little shit had done it again.

One day she’d have to sue him. For health deterioration due to his grand gestures. For making her heart flutter and capsize and swirl.

It was not just the shirt. It was the gesture, the planning. That knowing he’d be away, he’d prepared a moment. The name—nymphéas—the phrase that he’d written for the whole world to see, but only she would know it was meant for her.

Their little esoteric thing.

She plunged herself into the pond again. The pond being the table, she pounded her head against the wooden table in a fit of giggles.

She should—should she? Yes. She should call him.

Lia dialed him up. 

He didn’t even let it ring.

“Did you like it?”

A mix of giddiness, nerves, and a bunch of other feelings that shall not be named, Lia couldn’t help but laugh immediately upon his blunt answer.

“I loved it!,” she gushed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! How—where—how did you even get it? Never mind, I know. So you—you've been planning this since—you’re telling me you planned this ever since—ever since—before you left—but you had to have it shipped—so you—I—You!”

She heard his laughter on the other side of the line.

“So you do like it?”

“Come on, yes, I do like it!,” her voice was getting higher, “I love it!”

“Okay. Good. Okay. Okay.”

“I’ll wear it everyday. I’ll sleep in it.”

“That’s nasty.”

“Nobody can stop me.”

“The smell of rotten water lilies will.”

“Okay, yeah, no,” she tittered. “But this—this sits on the table of sweet unexpected gestures from you with a crown, right by the ramyeon stunt.”

His low laughter resounded from across the line.

“Didn’t know you had a table for sweet unexpected gestures.”

“Me neither,” she buried her face in her free hand. “But you’re making it extremely hard not to make one. When did you plan this?”

“Uhhh, that’s kind of funny.”

“How so?”

“Well. You might find it funny to learn that. . .”

“That. . . ?”

“. . . I kind of started window shopping online for art shirts in December.”

December.

“What? Wait, so you’ve had it since then?”

“No, no, no. I do have had it for weeks, buuut I was not really planning on gifting you one back then. We had just met. It’d be. . . strange.”

Okay.

“Makes sense. So, . . . when did you decide to?”

“Some day after the mini-mart incident.”

He giggled.

The ramyeon incident. Their first real face to face interaction.

Lia giggled too.

They let the call go quiet for a few seconds.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“My pleasure.”

She caressed the fabric, roaming over the painted lily pads in light hues and tints of lilac, blue, and green. Below the painting, a caption read: Claude Monet. Nymphéas, 1908. The name of a gallery was printed below.

“How come you chose this one?”

“Oh, it was hard to choose one. I seriously struggled. When the artist has over 250 water lily paintings you can choose from, how can you even choose? And I wanted to choose one that suited you. Your aura of. . . well, you.”

Lia giggled. Again.

“Good thing the number of museums that sell art shirts of the Water Lilies reduced the scope for you.”

“There were still many museums to choose from!”

She let her laughter run freely across the line. She heard him too, buoyant across the line.

“And then you visited the museums and didn’t tell me.”

“I can hear you pout, but! There’s a reason! I was itching to send you the pictures on the day we visited. Dying. But if I did, it wouldn’t have been that obvious that it was the sign! Actually! It would not have been worthy to be called the sign!”

This Taehyung. She buried her head on the dining table, giggling. Again.

“Got it, got it. It would have ruined your big moment.”

“Yes, actually, so please, do not laugh. Actually, do please continue laughing, I love that sound.”

Lia once more felt the urge to cover her face with her hand. She was certain she had grown beetroot red.

“You, sir, are an absolute hopeless romantic.”

“I’ll take that, yes. Besides, I have two more shirts for you from this trip. Because one water lily shirt is not enough when there’s 250 to choose from.”

Butterflies started to fly in her stomach. Oh, she adored him. But that was excessive.

“No! You—You didn’t have to!” 

“Yes, I did and that’s all I shall say.”

“Taehyung!”

“Lia!”

“So you can have a trifecta of water lilies! They say good things come in threes.”

“Well, I know only one of you, so. . . I doubt that.”

He laughed.

“But seriously. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“And seriously, don’t do it again. Please. I love the gifts, but you don’t have t—.”

“No can do.”

This Taehyung.

“So,” he changed the topic. “What’s new? How are things going there? How’s school? How’s the café?”

“Well, the café. . .”

Lia did have news about the café.

“Did you know there was a whole compound behind the wall at the back of the garden? It used to be a single house, but it was divided at some point.”

“Really?”

“Yes! You’d think there was only the garden and the small part that is the café.”

“So the garden was a courtyard of sorts?”

“Yes! Point is, they’re rehabilitating that other section.”

“They are?”

She hummed.

“Is the café doing that well?”

“So it seems.”

“Well. You know, it's actually no wonder that it’s prospering.”

“How come?”

“It must be because of you. You made the business flourish with your magic spell that allures customers into your enchanted lair of jazz and hazy afternoons.”

She giggled.

“Why a lair, though? If it’s enchanted it cannot be a lair!”

“If it is enchanted it is precisely a lair!”

“But it is not evil!”

“Well. True. Okay. Yes. A haven, it is.”

“Anyways,” Lia chuckled. “How is the trip treating you?”

“Good. A little tiring. But good. I want it to be over already, though.”

“So bad?”

“No! Not bad! Just… I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too.”

She heard him sigh.

“So,” she tried to divert the conversation.

“So?”

“What are you doing right now? Or were. Before I called you.”

“Besides from stressing over the sign?”

Lia tittered.

“Yes.”

“We were on set. Filming. Well, are. Currently on break. What about you?”

“I was painting. Well, I was actually on break too.”

“Wait,” he gasped across the line, “you were painting?”

“Yes! I’ve been painting all morning.”

She wouldn’t tell him she stopped painting because she was distracted by thoughts of him, though.

“I didn’t think you… painted. Which is dumb. Of course you paint. You love paint. You teach arts. How could you not.”

She was giggling. Again.

“What were you painting?”

Shit.

“Sunflowers.”

She heard him go quiet on his side. She almost could feel him smile.

“Does that have anything to do with me?”

Of course.

“Maybe.”

He let out a titter. So soft Lia almost didn’t catch it through the call.

“First water lilies and now sunflowers. If flowers only remind me of you hereon in, it shall be your own fault, sir.”

“As I said, I’ll gladly take that.”

She could hear his smugness.

“What do you think about carnations, by the way?”

“I love carnations.”

“Noted,” he spoke gravely.

Lia smiled for herself. How would she ever get used to him?

“So. . . going back to water lilies.”

“Yes?”

“If you hadn’t specified it was the sign. . . I mean, I decided to text you by chance and by chance saw the post. That was what confirmed my suspicion.”

“Well, I thought that maybe you would get it right away because it was obvious since the gift was wrapped in water lilies and maybe you remembered that,” he started speaking faster. “But when I started preparing the second post I started thinking what if it is not that obvious, because it had been ten minutes since I posted it and I was getting nervous that you hadn’t caught it and—.”

He stopped for air.

Lia was smitten. At how he’d started over explaining himself, rushedly and excitedly and agitatedly. How he was tripping over his words and how he sounded nervous somehow.

He resumed his frantic narration.

“And then I saw you liked it, which made my heart jump out of my chest, like, Jimin has been laughing at me since I squealed because you lik—yeah, anyways, you liked it, which meant you were currently on your phone, but you hadn’t told me anything, so I started to think, what if you hadn’t caught it—but anyways, that meant you were currently on your phone, which was the perfect time to make sure you saw it, so I decided to write the caption just in case, because what if you hadn’t caught that it was the sign, and apparently it did work because then you were call—.”

“If you were here, this is where I would shut you up with a kiss.”

She felt brave, okay.

He went silent.

“And since we’re at it. I was not laughing at you, I was laughing because of you. Of joy. You made my day.”

She heard a very soft little giggle on the other side of the line. Then, both remained silent. She could picture him smiling. She hoped he could picture her grinning too.

Then he broke the silence, with a whisper.

A very soft whisper, like a rustle of lily pads over the water.

“I love you.”

Her heart fluttered straight into the pond.

A sudden disturbance cut through his side of the call, taking her out of the moment. She heard the voices of her bandmates yelling and guffawing.

“Is that Lia? LIAAAAAAA.”

Was that Jimin?

“Shhhh, go away.”

“LIAAAAAAAAAAA,” someone else yelled.

“DID HE TELL YOU HOW HE’S BEEN MOPING AND HAS NOT SHUT UP ABOUT YOU ALL THIS TRI—.”

Taehyung yelped, telling them off.

She was sure he heard her name screamed out loud again, and a whole lot of teasing which only grew louder.

If she wasn’t still slightly shocked about his whispered words, perhaps she’d be more embarrassed.

“Ahhh, I’m sorry. I have to go, they—”

“LIAAAAAAAAA.”

She giggled.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Okay.”

“Take care.”

“You too.”

“And thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“BYEEEEEEE,” another person yelled.

“Okay, bye.”

He cut the call.

Lia was left in a pond full of ripples, caressing the soft fabric with a dumb smile, the soft “I love you” turning around and around inside her mind like fish below the surface.

✻  ✻  ✻

Masterlist

✻  ✻  ✻

All chapters: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5  — Chapter 6  — Chapter 7 — Chapter 8 — Chapter 9  — Chapter 10 — Chapter 11 — Chapter 12 — Chapter 13 — Chapter 14 — Chapter 15 — Chapter 16 — Chapter 17 — Chapter 18 — Chapter 19  — Chapter 20 — Chapter 21 — Chapter 22 — Chapter 23 — Chapter 24 — Chapter 25 — Chapter 26 — Chapter 27 — Update on Part 2 — Part 2 Preview

[faggotinni]

my favorite part of fandom is that specific moment when we all collectively go, "Oh yes, now blorbo needs to open a coffee shop" followed by the infamous "and they should fall in love w shitto while they're at it"

[forever-once-gone]

Day 3: Yoongi - You Meet Your Fated at a Coffee Shop <3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (lol)

Word count: 3.7k (can't keep them short for the life of me)

Content and Warnings: soulmate au, coffee shop au, gn!reader, sharing preferences, arguing, frustration, they're both a bit dense lol, but other than that nothing too terrible in this, just sweet honestly, almost throwing up, coffee snob!Yoongi, barista!Yoongi, mocha slander, terms of endearment: baby, dear, Y/n is ready to FIGHT

Author's Note: Hey! So like I know it is well past Feb, but tbh it was crazy of me to even think id have time to publish these things during midterms season. Even though I had reading week, it was just not going to happen. Even though I did manage to write some of the days, I obviously couldn't every day. And posting? Forget about it. Anyway, even if it's past Feb, would you want me to post the ones I did write? It won't be instantaneous, but I would like to share what I did write, and maybe even finish all the other days as I had already planned out what I wanted to write each day. Let me know if you're interested! Anyways, as always, enjoy! <3

Another mocha, just another mocha to fill up in the takeaway cup for another person who is trying to get through the February cold. Yoongi gets a lot of mocha requests before the winter holidays season. When so many are hyped up with Christmas cheer. Even people who do not celebrate Christmas tend to indulge in peppermint mochas when the snow hits the ground. And the trend trickled into the post holiday months every winter season. To the point when people ordered mochas even into early spring.

Yoongi, ever the coffee enthusiast, hated having to make so many mochas.

Frankly, he considered mochas just snobby chocolate milk with the smallest hint of caffeine. Like do mochas even deserve to be considered coffee-based beverages? He thought not. You could barely even taste the coffee in between the thick, tongue-coating taste of chocolate and the heaviness of way too much milk.

Everytime he had to make mochas, every single time, he’d be cursing in his head about how he would rather just be able to make his espressos, black coffees, and iced americanos. Iced americanos are the most he’d be willing to go when it comes to diffusing the taste of coffee.

Adding milk? Forget it.

Adding sugar? He’d rather just pour it down the drain than drink it.

Alas, when it comes to his job, he has to fulfill the customer’s wishes. No matter how much he hated the sugary, barely-even-coffee, more-like-milkshakes drinks, he would make the drink for them. A waste of good coffee in his books, but he needed the money that came from his overpriced caffeinated chocolate milk 

So, when it came to a coffee-novice coming into his coffee shop asking for a mocha, he would grit his teeth but make the drink nonetheless, the underline he requires to be able to pay his shop’s mortgage and keep all of his employees.

It was another one of these spring days when he’d unlocked the front doors of the café only to see someone new. Normally, only a few select people would come to his café so early in the morning, after all, most people started work at 9 or later. Only a few people would come at 5:30 when he opened. But today, there was someone new.

There was you, a person he’d never seen before standing behind his regulars. A cheery looking person, giving him a smile when he unlocked the door and opened it for the small group of people to trickle in.

He made his way behind the counter as he began his small routine with his regulars, smiling at each one of them as they gave him their orders, even though there really was no need as he had gotten each one of them memorized ages ago.

He took and prepared each order with practiced ease, until he got to the last person in line. The one who had spent the last ten minutes scanning the chalkboard menu with an analytical look.

You.

“Good morning,” you said to him with a kind smile.

“Good morning,” he replied. “What can I get started for you today?”

You wrung your hands, scanning the menu again, before looking back at him. “Can I get a large mocha?”

He scoffed. Seriously, chocolate this early in the morning? Typical from a cheery-looking person like yourself.

“What?” you asked, wondering if you’d broken some unspoken social cue. You’d seen the way he’d kindly spoken to the customers before you, making small talk, so what happened when it came to you?

“Nothing, nothing,” he waved you off, before pressing some buttons on his cash register’s screen. “That’ll be 5000 won.”

“No, no. That definitely was something. Did I say anything wrong?” You insisted, brows furrowed together in a mix of worry and a bit of indignation.

“No, not at all. It’ll be 5000 won.” He tried to force a smile, but your eyes were squinted together just as you did before when you were scanning the menu, but this time your object of interest was him.

“What? You just don’t like me or something?” You felt a bit uncomfortable, out of place in this cafe with a barista who seemed to hold a certain disdain for you from the moment you opened your mouth. But that didn’t mean you were going to back down from this entitled man. You eyed him up and down, letting him know the contempt was mutual.

He let out a small scoff, before seeming to recompose himself with customer service professionalism. “Of course not. I’m sorry if it seemed that way. Your total is 5000 won.”

You could see through his poorly reconstructed composure, but nonetheless gave him the requested money. You were already running late to your job interview, and you needed this job if you hoped to actually be able to rent a place in this city. You had already spent three weeks staying with your friend after moving here from your old city. You couldn’t stay with her forever, even if she was willing to keep you for forever if you needed it.

You stepped away from the register after he had given you your change and moved away to make your drink. You took the time to continue admiring the interior of the cafe as the barista flew around his counter space. You took in the worn furniture resembling something half between industrial and contemporary. The hanging lights and the various maps lining the walls of the place. Very hipster. Fitting for a coffee shop.

The call of: “One large mocha?” brought you back from your inspection. With a hum, you took your drink from him, feeling the drink warm your gloved hands.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, have a nice day.” And with that he was moving back to his dishes to clean up the dishes he’d used before the next customers wandered in.

You turned away from him, moving towards the door. Before you pushed open the door to brave into the cold, you flipped open the flap on the top of the to-go cup. You took a quick sip, ready for the delicious drink to coat your tongue, but instead your tastebuds were assaulted with a heinous amount of sugar. It tasted like you’d boiled a pool full of chocolate and dumped a truck full of sugar and then reduced the entire pool full over a roaring fire until only a cup of the concentrated mixture remained full of pure chocolate and sugar.

You immediately turned back on your heel. Pressing your tongue against the tip of your mouth, trying to rid it of the sweet assault. “You messed up,” you slammed the cup on the counter, seeing the barista’s shoulders jump at the loud thump.

“What’s the issue?” he asked, as he wiped off his hands on a hand towel before flipping it onto his shoulder. He leaned onto the counter with the palms of his hands, not even trying to hide his annoyance with you anymore considering the frown he sent your way.

“This is way too sweet. Like what, did you dump a whole bag of sugar into this thing?” You nudged the cup towards him. “If you didn’t like me, you could have just refused to take my order, you didn’t have to do all this!” You gestured to the cup.

“Please, I need you to calm down. I didn’t do anything to your drink. It’s just a regular mocha. Mochas are sweet, you should have known that before you ordered it for the first time.” He rolled his eyes slightly.

“First time? Oh, honey, no—I know what mochas are meant to taste like and this is not it. It’s practically the only thing I ever get!”

He scoffed yet again. Typical, he thought to himself. Never would've guessed. “Just take your drink and go, I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t believe me do you?” You said in disbelief. You never would dare fight with someone like this, but for some reason, this one guy was just getting on your nerves. Typically, even if your order had gotten mixed up you would just swallow your disappointment and try to enjoy the drink anyway. Even if it was something bitter and boring like a plain black coffee. But the way this man had been acting from the moment you ordered has been rude and completely ruined your confidence. Not what you needed at all before trying to get this job. And for some reason, it felt like all your senses and emotions had been turned up to 100, so controlling your anger was a lot harder.

“Drink it,” you told him, holding his eye contact. “Yeah, drink it. If you can drink even one gulp without making a face, I’ll admit I was wrong and leave.”

The barista tongued his cheek for a moment, contemplating what you said. “I don’t want to. I don’t like mochas, besides, I can’t drink a customer’s drink anyway.”

“I’m just gonna take your refusal as you admitting that you fucked with my drink.”

By this point the two people left in the shop were watching the two of you fighting at the counter. A middle aged man walked up to the counter, stepping in to try and defuse the situation. “Why don't you just take a sip of it, Yoongi? Just to prove them wrong?”

“I refuse,” the barista, Yoongi, said to the man. “It’s a matter of principle at this point. I’m not drinking it. I know my abilities, and I know that that mocha would be as good as mochas get. I’m not gonna take a sip of a nasty ass mocha just cause this person wants to throw a fuss at five in the morning.”

“So you admit you fucked with it?! You admitted it’s nasty!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes at you for the umpteenth time this morning. “I just hate mochas, they taste like shit. But anyone who likes those chocolatey messes will admit mine are as good as they get. I might not like them, but I still put all my effort into making sure they taste good.”

“Just fucking drink it then! I’m not joking, this tastes like shit. Maybe something is wrong with your milk steaming machine or something—this just isn’t right!”

The middle-aged man decided to try and put the fight to an end. “Why don’t I just give it a try, huh?”

“No!” But Yoongi and you said at the same time, before turning back to each other again.

“He refuses to admit it, and he has to be the one to try it!” You crossed your arms.

“And they’re the one who is making a big situation over nothing, you should never give in to people like them.” He glared at you. Now that his patrons were getting involved, he wanted to get you out as soon as possible.

“Just try it! I swear it’s unbelievable. Just give it one sip!” You threw up your arms in frustration. “Come on, I’m not even asking for a refund or anything, I just want you to admit that you took your anger out on me for no reason. That’s all, I don’t even want an apology!”

“I don’t need to apologize! I didn’t do anything wrong! That mocha is PERFECT! I’d bet my life on it.” Yoongi was fuming now, chest heaving with frustration and annoyance. He was this close to calling the cops on you and calling it a day.

“Oh shut up with the ‘perfect’ nonsense! It’s not perfect! Just try it! This whole thing would have been over ages ago if you just gave it a try!” You pulled the cap off of the cup. “If you’re afraid it’s poisoned, I’ll take a sip of it before you drink it. See look.” 

You took a swig of the drink, nearly choking on the sugary beverage as you tried to keep the concoction from coming right back up. You gagged for a second or two, before finally straightening back up, wiping your mouth with the back of your gloved hand.

The two men around you exchanged expressions, their anger turning more to disbelief. Either you were a great actor or that drink really, really sucked.

“There, see. I didn’t tamper with it. Now, please, please just try it. Please. Don’t make me look insane. Just try it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ll try it. But if it tastes fine, you need to leave my shop and never come back, you hear me?”

“I swear. I won’t come back, don’t plan to anyway.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at that, before grabbing the lidless cup from the counter. He held it up, hesitated, and then said, “I really don’t like mochas,” with a scrunch of his nose. He took a breath and then took the smallest sip you’ve ever seen a human being take before slamming the cup down. His hand immediately came up to cover his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed.

You couldn’t bear to hide your smug look. How was he gonna hide how terrible the drink was now? He looked like he was going to throw up. Ha! That will show him!

But then he did the weirdest thing. He took another sip. A long sip this time. Other than his furrowed brows, he didn’t choke, gag, or even dry heave for a millisecond. Just watching him drink was making you nauseous.

“Oh my god!” you yelled, snatching the cup from his hands before he could take another sip, holding it up behind you, away from him. “You’re going to give yourself diabetes if you drink that whole thing!”

Immediately he tried to reach across the counter and get it back from you. “Hey! Give that back! This makes no sense!”

“Yoongi, calm down!” The man said, pushing the barista back off of the counter that he was practically leaning his whole body onto at this point.

“Why does it taste good?!” The distress that the barista was under put even you on pause. You watched the barista scramble around, rubbing at his head as if it was aching him. Was this the effect of all the sugar?

“Hey, man, you doing alright?” You placed the cup back down on the counter, holding a hand out to him to show you meant no harm.

He just shook his head, picking up a half empty mug from behind the counter that you had seen him periodically sipping from between the preparation of yours and the others’ drinks. He took a large gulp only to immediately run to the sink, spitting the drink right into the drain.

“Why does my coffee taste so heinous?! Why does it taste like fucking bitter gasoline? Why does the mocha taste so fucking good?!” He was still hunched over the sink, the only thing you could see of him was his back a bit of his lowered head. His arm reached to grab the hand towel on his shoulder to throw it to the side.

You had no answer for him. This was all so bizarre.

“This—” the middle aged man brought both your and Yoongi’s attention to him, as he brought the cup back to his lips for another sip. When had he taken your mocha from you? Was it when Yoongi was losing his mind? 

“This tastes…” He took another sip. His brows furrowed in concentration. 

“This tastes like a regular mocha.” He put the cup back down. “I think you guys need to calm down for a moment and think about what this means.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him.

“I think you know what I mean, dear.” The man had a kind-hearted look on his face as his eyes flitted between both you and Yoongi.

“OH MY GOD.” Yoongi grabbed the edge of the counter, seeming to understand the man’s insinuation. “There is no way.”

“What? What am I missing?” The man only shook his head as Yoongi raised his head to meet your gaze. He just pushed his half empty mug to you. Inside was black coffee.

“Try it. I need to see if it’s true.”

“Um, no. I don’t like black coffee. Yuck.” You nudged the mug right back to him only for him to stop the movement halfway. 

“That’s exactly why you have to try this,” Yoongi said as calmly as he could, though you could swear he looked almost like he could faint right then and there.

“Fine,” you took the mug from him. “Just cause you did drink the mocha.”

You swirled the dark liquid in the mug, debating whether it was worth it to drink the bitter liquid. But when you looked up to see that both the man and Yoongi were watching you like scientists inspecting their latest mutant rats for their observational notes, you just took a sip only to get them to stop staring at you.

Instantly your throat was soothed as the smooth taste of the perfectly roasted coffee made its way through your mouth. You’d never drunk anything so refreshing, so calming as it warmed you up from the inside out. Even though there was no sugar or cream, you surprisingly didn’t mind it as it allowed the rich flavour of the black coffee to shine through strongly. It tasted so good.

You didn’t put down the mug until you’d finished the whole thing.

The middle aged man had a small smile on his face, while Yoongi seemed to be still in his inspector mode.

“So,” the man began. “How was it?”

You thought about it for a second. “Good. Like really good. Like surprisingly good.”

The man clapped his hands. “Well there you have it. Congrats you two.”

You shook your head for a second, scrunching your face in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi came around the counter, finally coming to stand beside you without anything between you two. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Easy, Yoongi. Don’t want to scare them off now do you?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the man but then nodded his head in understanding. “You don’t like black coffee right? Too bitter or something?”

You nodded. “Yeah, too bitter. I need more sugar or else I just can’t get it down.”

“And I hate mochas. They’re too sweet and you can’t even tell there is coffee in it since it's so overpowered by the sugar, chocolate, and milk.”

“Okay… What does that have to do with me though?”

“But I just liked the mocha. Not just liked, I loved the mocha. And you loved the black coffee.”

“Yeah…” You waited for him to clarify further.

He waved his arm as if urging you to think further, but when you just cocked your head to the side in confusion, he dropped his arm back down to his side. “Seriously?” he asked, exasperated. “I hated my usual coffee and loved your mocha. And you hated your usual mocha and loved my coffee.”

You nodded your head, trying to understand what he was trying to get at. Until it just clicked, your eyes widening instantly, reaching to grab his elbows. “OH MY GOD! We’re soulmates! Oh my god! We switched preferences! We’re soulmates!” You threw your arms around him, pulling him as close to you as you could through your thick winter jacket.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, his arms reciprocating your grasp.

“Oh my god! I knew I was meant to move here! I have to tell my roommate! But wait—” you pushed him out of your hold.

Yoongi let out a light groan, as he caught himself from stumbling.

You pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You hate mochas, you black coffee supremacist!”

“Seriously?” Yoongi asked you. “That’s your biggest concern now?”

“Well yeah! I mean, I don’t know if my preferences will change back, but if they do, I can’t stay with a soulmate that thinks he’s superior to me because of his coffee preferences!”

Yoongi let out a small laugh, his lips tugging into a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I think I will never be able to hate mochas after today.”

Even with your finger still pointed at him, you felt your lips pull into a wide smile at the hidden meaning behind his words.

You both jumped at the clearing of a throat behind the two of you. The man had made his way to the front door of the coffee shop with his order in his hand. “Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to let you know that my wife, Maria, had been recording the entire thing in case you needed to call the police.” He nodded towards the other patron who had been at the shop when you and Yoongi had started fighting who was now standing holding the door open as she waited for her husband. “Let me know if you want the video of your first meeting, I’m sure your friends and family would love to see it,” he said between kind-hearted soft laughs, before leaving hand-in-hand with Maria.

“Maybe even our future grandkids,” you teased him happily, taking a step back towards him.

Yoongi just smiled in reply, showing off his perfect teeth to you.

You felt your heart swell.

He took another step towards you, grabbing a hold of your hands by your side. “I would like that.”

You heard the door chime as a customer walked into the coffee shop before their steps halted somewhere behind you.

“Uh, is this a bad time?” The customer asked from behind you.

“Give me a second,” Yoongi replied.

“Alright,” the person cleared their throat. “Just don’t want to be late for work.”

That seemed to jolt you out of your Yoongi admiring stupor. “Shit! I have an interview!” You tightened your hold on his hands before letting go.

By the time Yoongi realized what was going on, you were already halfway out the door.

“I’m going to be so late! I’ll be back later, okay, baby?” You had pushed the door open taking a step out before turning back to him. “I am allowed to come back right? Or am I still exiled from your shop?” You asked with a smile.

“Seriously?” He laughed, shaking his head as he made his way back behind the service counter. “Maybe you’ll just have to try your luck.”

“You’re impossible.” You laughed into your hand, waving your hand at him. “When I come back, if you don’t let me in, I’ll tell all your customers that I almost threw up after drinking your mocha.” You stuck out your tongue at him as he fake gasped, before finally actually leaving the shop.

Well, there's that.

So if you didn't get it, in this case, soulmates have different ways of finding out if they're meant to be in this universe. For Yoongi and Y/n, they met and ended up switching coffee preferences (or maybe even more preferences but the only thing they noticed so far is the coffee). Even though their reactions may seem extra, when you meet your soulmate all your emotions/feelings/everything is meant to be heightened. So they had each other's preferences, but n times stronger. So that's why they loved the other's preference like it was ambrosia, but their own preferences tasted like so bad to them. Y/n found the mocha wayyyy to sweet like Yoongi would usually, and Yoongi found the black coffee wayyyyy too bitter cause Y/n likes her coffee well sweetened and with a lot of stuff to mellow the coffee flavour.

But anyway, yes they're in love.

So yeah, do let me know if you want me to post the rest of these. It will be a slow process, but I would like to do so.

Take care!!

[bloody-bee-tea]

IntiMarch 2024 Day 11 - Make me something sweet

The prompt for this was "Kiss me"

Satoru is bored out of his mind and he’s not shy to let his manager know about it. Things are always horribly slow between the breakfast and the lunch rush and it’s complete overkill to have three people tending today.

Or any day, really, because two people could handle this just fine, in Satoru’s opinion.

Well, in all honesty he probably shouldn’t complain because it means he has a job and doesn’t have to rely solely on his family’s money but still.

He’d rather be home than be bored out of his mind like this. And it’s not even as if he can slack off, and waste his time away on the phone because Nanami is already sending him glares as it is and even his manager is looking over more often than not, so Satoru has to at least pretend.

Satoru forces a smile on his face when the next customer comes in, but Nanami is already at the cashier, so he lets him handle everything, while Utahime busies herself with actually making the coffee.

There’s not even anything to stack up, because they keep everything meticulously prepared and so Satoru heaves out a huge sigh.

“If you’re that bored why don’t you just leave,” Nanami snaps at him after one too many sighs and Satoru makes a face at him.

“Believe it or not, I actually do need the money,” he gives back. It’s not a huge secret that Satoru’s family is loaded, but it’s an even less well-kept secret that Satoru despises all of them and would rather die than be reliant on their money.

“But why does it have to be in my shift?” Nanami complaints, not even waiting for Satoru to reply before he turns his back on him.

“It’s not as if I chose this,” Satoru still mutters, certain that Nanami hears him and that, too, is the truth.

He asked for one more shift per week and this is what Yaga gave him. He’s not going to refuse, even though he would rather work with anyone else than with Nanami, with his stick up his ass, and Utahime, who hates his guts.

Satoru mechanically smiles again when the doorbell chimes but he immediately straightens up when he spots the customer who came just in.

“Oh, wow,” he breathes out because the guy who steps closer to the counter is certainly a sight to behold.

His long black hair is made up to a messy bun at the back of his head, half of his hair still spilling out. He’s build like a fighter, tall and thick and Satoru guesses he can lay him out flat in seconds, but his smile is the sweetest thing Satoru has ever seen and it honestly feels as if he’s swooning when he spots his incredible eyes.

It takes Satoru a moment to even notice the huge gauges the guy is spotting and then another one before he spots the ring in his lips and Satoru feels as if his heart is going to beat right out of his chest.

Satoru can feel Nanami side-eyeing him, but he is professional through and through, because he easily smiles at the gorgeous guy.

“Suguru, welcome back,” Nanami greets him and Satoru immediately files that away.

Suguru. What a nice name.

“Nanami, hello,” Suguru gives back and he seems to be a regular because after one too many creepy incidents Yaga told them not to wear their nametags anymore.

“The usual?” Nanami asks and Utahime starts preparing the order before Suguru even nods, so he really must come by often enough for them to know what he wants.

Or he’s just incredibly boring, Satoru thinks when he sees that Nanami rings him up for one black coffee. Well, with a face like that, he’s allowed to be boring, Satoru decides.

“You’re a little over-staffed today, huh?” Suguru asks as he waits for his order and before Nanami can even open his mouth, Satoru slides up to the picking-up area.

“I wouldn’t say so, I’m very lucky to be here today,” Satoru sweetly says blinking his eyes at Suguru and for a split second he thinks it works but then Nanami is right there, smacking the back of his head.

“Ouch,” Satoru complaints but Nanami only rolls his eyes.

“Behave, Satoru,” he chides him and his face only gets more constipated when Satoru pouts at him. “Just for once, please be normal.”

“It’s perfectly normal to flirt with customers,” Satoru hisses back before he turns back around to Suguru, smile already back on his face, but it slides off when he realises that Suguru walked away without another word.

“It’s not!” Nanami tells him. “Don’t alienate him, he’s a regular.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Satoru sighs out, stretching himself out over the counter. “But so boring with his black coffee. Does he ever order anything else?” he asks.

“No, never,” Utahime chimes in. “That’s his go to and he can’t even be swayed with specials or other offers.”

“Ugh, he clearly doesn’t know what’s tasty.”

“Satoru,” Nanami warningly says but Satoru is barely listening to him.

“Does he always come by at this time?”

“Except for the weekends,” Utahime confirms and Nanami groans when Satoru’s grin grows bigger.

“Yaga!” he calls out, turning around, Nanami hot on his heels.

“If he changes shifts permanently, I want out of this shift!” he says, just as Satoru marches into Yaga’s office.

“What the hell is going on?” Yaga breathes out, already pinching the bridge of his nose but Satoru only gives him a winning smile.

This is going to be great.

~*~*~

“Suguru, hello,” Satoru greets Suguru a day later, with no annoying Nanami breathing down his neck and he enjoys the way his familiar approach briefly makes Suguru’s steps falter.

“Satoru, was it? What happened to Nanami?” he asks, clearly confused by Satoru’s presence, but Satoru will get him used to this soon.

He has all the morning shifts now, after all.

“He had to change shifts, which is why I’m going to be here from now on!”

“I see,” Suguru gives back, a small smile curling around his mouth and Satoru knows that he already has him half charmed. “I’ll take—”

“A black coffee, yes, I know,” Satoru interrupts him, already busying himself with getting his order. “Here you go!”

He presents the cup with a flourish, even though there’s not even some latte art he can show off but Suguru still takes it with a smile.

“Thank you,” he gives back. “Until tomorrow then.”

“Until tomorrow,” Satoru agrees and gives Suguru his biggest smile. “I can’t wait.”

And Satoru really can’t; he has an entire plan ready. He’ll ease Suguru into his presence for a week and then he’ll get his order wrong, so Suguru has to come back and Satoru gets another chance to talk to him.

It’ll be fine, it’s an absolute fool proof plan.

~*~*~

Satoru slides his newest concoction over the counter. It’s an almost disgustingly sweet drink Satoru came up with on the spot and he thinks that this time, it’ll have to be the one that brings Suguru back in the shop to complain about his orders always getting fucked up.

Suguru thanks him with a warm smile and Satoru decides not to read anything into the way Suguru’s fingertips slide against his fingers as he takes the cup because so far Suguru hasn’t come back.

He still comes in at his usual time of course, but no matter what Satoru puts in his coffee, Suguru never returns to demand a refund.

And it’s driving Satoru up the wall.

He’s usually good at flirting; his looks help and Satoru knows how to wield them in a way that makes people flustered and while Suguru is always unfailingly polite and even jokes with him, he never ever reacts to any of the more flirtatious remarks Satoru makes.

It’s maybe time to admit that Suguru doesn’t want to respond to any of his flirting attempts but Satoru refuses to admit defeat.

Not until Suguru outright tells him to stop it.

~*~*~

Suguru comes in with a girl at his side and Satoru’s heart plummets to the ground.

“Shoko, goddamit, just stop,” Suguru says, sounding more relaxed than Satoru has ever heard him and he watches with mounting despair how Suguru slumps over her much more slender frame and how she takes it like a champ.

Satoru could do that, too, he petulantly thinks just as he plasters his usual customer smile to his face.

“Everything okay?” Suguru asks before Satoru can even say something and Satoru nods.

“Of course, hello, welcome, what can I get for you today?” Satoru asks, acting as if Suguru and the girl—Shoko apparently—are just another pair of regular customers and not the actual man of Satoru’s dreams and the woman who destroyed it all.

“Satoru, are you sure you’re okay?” Suguru asks again, and Satoru tries to keep his attention on Shoko, who is raising a questioning eyebrow at Suguru.

“You know the people here by name?” she asks, quickly scanning Satoru to see that he’s not wearing a name tag.

“It’s my regular coffee shop, Shoko,” Suguru tells her and the casual use of her name makes something sour curl in Satoru’s belly.

“Can I get you your regular today, too?” Satoru forces himself to ask and dutifully rings it up when Suguru nods.

Satoru takes Shoko’s order as well and then gets to preparing them without his usual pestering and bantering. He only realises too late that muscle memory overrode everything because instead of making Suguru his stupid black coffee like he was supposed to do, he still makes one of his extra special drinks for Suguru.

He briefly thinks about pouring it down the drain and making Suguru that boring order but in the end, the coffee is already made and the sooner he hands it over, the sooner Suguru and his girl will leave.

“Satoru,” Suguru tries again as Satoru puts the drinks on the counter, quickly snatching his hands away before Suguru can even think to reach for his.

“Thank you for your patronage,” Satoru stiffly says and turns away from them before Suguru can find his voice again.

“Oh wow, he’s prickly,” Shoko mutters, not quite low enough for Satoru not to overhear and so it hurts extra bad when Suguru doesn’t even say anything.

But Satoru guesses he has his answer to his flirting right there.

~*~*~

“Satoru, hello,” Suguru greets him as he steps into the shop and Satoru gives him a brief smile, before he busies himself with Suguru’s coffee.

This time he’s not caught off guard like he was yesterday and so he makes extra sure to make Suguru a black coffee and nothing else.

“Here you go,” he says as he hands Suguru his coffee and he briefly falters when he sees how unhappy Suguru looks.

“Everything okay?” Satoru can’t help but to ask because he knows that Suguru sometimes struggles with his classes or that his sisters are giving him grey hairs and Satoru aches to alleviate his stress even just a little bit but he has to remember that that’s not his job.

Suguru already has someone who does that for him. At least Satoru hopes Shoko does.

“Sure,” Suguru quietly gives back without meeting Satoru’s eyes and he simply takes his coffee and leaves.

“Okay then,” Satoru says to the empty space in front of him and wonders if things will always be like this between them now.

Maybe he should change shifts again. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to flirt in the first place.

“What is this?” Suguru’s voice suddenly asks and he sounds mad.

Satoru’s head flies up and watches how Suguru marches straight up to the counter, not even caring about the other patrons in the shop.

“Huh?” Satoru very eloquently asks and Suguru almost slams the cup down on the counter in front of Satoru.

“This? What the hell is this?”

“Your—black coffee? Just like you ordered?” Satoru cautiously says, because he doesn’t know what’s going on, why Suguru is so angry.

“But you never make me what I order,” Suguru huffs out and despite everything Satoru can feel himself go hot in the face.

“And you never complaint!” he hotly gives back. “And now that I do what you ask me to, you come back here to what? Complain about a perfect order?”

“Yes!” Suguru almost yells right back and Satoru looks around the shop.

Everyone is looking at them, including the new girl who took Utahime’s spot for the day.

“You’re on your own for a moment,” Satoru tells her before he turns around and walks straight into Yaga’s empty office.

He doesn’t even have to turn around to know that Suguru is following him and just a few seconds later the door closes.

“What is going on, Satoru?” Suguru asks and Satoru heaves out a breath.

“What is supposed to be going on? I made you your fucking coffee, Suguru, what more do you want from me?”

“I want you to make me one of your stupid sugary concoctions!” Suguru gives right back and Satoru is at a complete loss.

“I don’t get it. You never complained about them but you also never said anything about them. I don’t know what’s going on.” It’s a first for Satoru to admit something like that and Suguru must realise that because his entire stance softens.

“The first time you made me something that was not my black coffee I almost came back,” he says, seemingly making sure to keep his composure. “But it turns out I like what you make me. I was looking forward to what you make me.”

“I wanted you to come back,” Satoru blurts out without thinking and Suguru frowns at him.

“You wanted me to complain?”

“I wanted you to come back so we could talk some more,” Satoru admits. “I changed shifts just for—" He cuts himself off but of course Suguru can finish what Satoru wanted to say perfectly well.

“I’m glad you changed shifts,” Suguru quietly says and steps closer to Satoru, who immediately takes a step back. “Satoru?”

“You should probably go,” Satoru bitterly says. “I bet Shoko is waiting for you somewhere already.”

It’s mean and way too telling, going by the sudden understanding washing over Suguru’s face, but he can’t take it back anymore.

“I wanted to introduce Shoko to Utahime,” Suguru says with a small smile. “She’s just her type.”

Satoru blinks.

“She’s gay?”

“I am, too,” Suguru tells him and dares to take another step towards Satoru.

“Huh, me too,” Satoru says, though it’s probably redundant at this point.

He already admitted he was trying to flirt with Suguru.

“So, what do we do with that now?” Suguru asks, that same warm smile on his face that first caught Satoru’s eyes and Satoru squares his shoulders.

“Kiss me,” he orders, clearly catching Suguru off guard with that but it barely takes him a second to digest Satoru’s demand before he leans in.

It sends tingles all through Satoru’s body, especially when his lips catch on the ring in Suguru’s lip and he doesn’t quite manage to suppress his low groan.

It’s better than anything Satoru daydreamed about and going by Suguru’s low chuckle against his lips he seems to know that somehow.

“You taste sweet, too,” he whispers without really pulling away and Satoru blinks his eyes open.

“I only make you my favourites,” he mutters.

“You have good taste,” Suguru says and Satoru leans in to get another taste of Suguru for himself.

“I really do,” he then agrees and it makes Suguru laugh again, clearly catching up on what Satoru really means.

“Now give me your number so we can meet outside of this shop and Nanami can have his morning shift back. He’s miserable in the afternoons.”

“He’s always miserable,” Satoru says out of reflex even as he’s busy getting his phone out. “You gonna take me out on a date?”

“I’m going to take you out on so many dates,” Suguru seriously says and leans in to nip at Satoru’s lips again, sliding Satoru’s phone out of his hands in the process. “This evening even if you have time.”

“Absolutely,” Satoru agrees without even thinking about it.

If he already has other plans, he’ll simply reschedule. Suguru takes precedence.

“Here you go. I’ll text you.”

Satoru can only blink, not even having noticed how Suguru put his number in and clearly messaged himself already and before he gets his bearings back Suguru already walked out of him.

“Hey,” Satoru calls after him, but he’s way too late and he can only watch Suguru’s broad back leave the shop.

And then he startles badly when his phone chimes.

It’s a text message and Satoru almost breaks the screen, he’s tapping on it so insistently.

Meet me here at 6pm for dinner the message says, accompanied by a link and Satoru wants to puff his cheek in outrage at the demanding tone of this but then he sees that Suguru saved his name with a little heart next to it and Satoru melts like a cube of sugar in a cup of coffee.

It’s hard to be mad when he has to smile so much.

[btschooseafic]

Scared of Love (in a coffee shop)

Pairing: ot7, ot6 x jungkook

Details: jungkook centric, a/b/o dynamics, coffee shop au, soulmates au

Summary: Jungkook loses his job and gains a new one.

Warnings: implied mpreg (not jk), attempted assault

Masterlist

***

Jungkook was towards the end of his shift when he caught the posturing alpha scent. It broke through the bar’s typical alcohol and sweat smells. He scanned the crowd as he finished making the drink he was working on, placing it front of the customer with a tense smile.

There was a man looming over a girl in the corner.

Jungkook moved over to them. “Everything okay here?” He called out, over the many conversations in the room.

“We’re fine,” the man said, barely glancing at him. The girl’s body was frozen stiff, but her wide eyes flickered to meet Jungkook’s.

Jungkook frowned. “Give her some space.”

“What?” Now the man turned to look at Jungkook, gritting his teeth, lip pulled back in a partial snarl. “This is none of your business, man. Back off.”

“You’re the one who should back off,” Jungkook thought aloud. “She clearly wants nothing to do with you.”

The man smirked. “She never said anything.”

The girl opened and closed her mouth, eyes still locked on Jungkook, gaze turning pleading. The man leaned his palm on the wall behind her, pinning her there. She whimpered. He laughed and the sour scent of terrified omega curled into the air.

“That’s it.” Jungkook came out from behind the bar and grabbed the man’s arm, pulling him away from her.

“What the fuck!”

Jungkook twisted his arm behind his back and shoved him towards the entrance. Minho was working the door tonight.

“Keep him out of here, he’s scaring omegas!” Jungkook told the bouncer.

Minho nodded, grabbing the protesting alpha.

“You’ll regret that!” The alpha shouted after Jungkook as he moved back inside.

The girl was still in the corner. “You okay?” Jungkook asked. “Are you here alone?” She shook her head.

“My… my friends went to the bathroom. I went to get drinks, and…” She swallowed. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Jungkook grimaced. “That sucks. I’m sorry you were made to feel unsafe here.”

She shrugged. “I’m… it happens. I wish I was better at…” She sighed. “Thank you.”

Jungkook waited with her until her friends came back. They immediately wrapped their arms around her and offered to get a cab together.

Most of the customers left in the next hour, Minho shepherding any stragglers out the door with a firm hand and a tough look.

After he finished cleaning, Jungkook started the walk home.

It was early morning. The streets were mostly empty.

Jungkook sped up when the back of his neck prickled, like he was being watched.

Before he could react, someone grabbed his arm and pulled him into a nearby alleyway. There was a loud rip as his jacket tore. It hung off his arm. Jungkook’s back slammed into the wall. He couldn’t breath.

“I told you you’d regret it.” It was the man from earlier, sneering down at him.

Jungkook gulped in air.

“I don’t,” Jungkook told him truthfully. Even if this alpha beat him up, he didn’t regret helping that girl earlier. She didn’t deserve this man invading her personal space like that.

The man’s brow furrowed. He leaned in and sniffed at Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook squirmed, trying to protect his scent glands. It was too late.   The man laughed. Jungkook’s scent blockers must have worn off. They were a cheap brand that he frequently sweated off during his longer shifts.

“Omega,” he cooed. “Were you jealous? You wanted me to pay attention to you instead of her?”

Jungkook’s face twisted in disgust. “You’re delusional.” He tried to twist out of the man’s hold again.

“You’re too worked up,” the man told him. “Let me help you calm down.” He reached for the back of Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook bit his hand. The man growled and reeled back. Jungkook kneed him between the legs. The man howled and crouched down, curling in on himself. Jungkook took off at a run.

Maybe that was a mistake.

Alphas like that liked a chase.

Jungkook ran with the man on his tail for several blocks. Then he saw a crowd of people coming out of a nearby club.

He wove his way into the crowd, hoping the mixture of scents would hide his. Club goers frequently wore strong scent blockers or perfumes so they could enjoy their night without dynamics interfering. Jungkook caught a strong fruity scent and moved closer to it. He saw the man pause at the end of the block, raising his head to sniff.

“Are you being chased?”

Jungkook flinched, turning to the strawberry-scented man who addressed him. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was very handsome, dark fluffy hair contrasted with his bright red jacket. His arm was slung over the shoulder of a shorter man, who was also incredibly good looking.

Jungkook nodded, still catching his breath.

“For fun, or an unwanted suitor?” The shorter man asked. Jungkook stared, still a little startled by how good looking the two men were. In his job, he saw a lot of people dressed their best on a night out, but he never seen anyone look so good in a plain white t-shirt. The shirt’s wide neck line showed off several mating marks. Jungkook pouted slightly—of course such a pretty man already had mates.

The man was still looking at him expectantly.

“He’s a bully,” Jungkook explained. “I wasn’t… I’m sorry I’m hiding behind you.” He glanced back at the end of the block. The man was gone. Jungkook sighed in relief. “Looks like he’s gone. I’ll leave—“

“Better stay for another couple of minutes. Make sure he’s really gone.” The man in the red jacket leaned closer to whisper to Jungkook. Jungkook breathed in the strawberry perfume, the sweetness making him dizzy. He wondered how it would mix with the man’s natural scent. “What?” The man raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tae!” The shorter man smacked his hand. “Give him some space.”

“Sorry.” Tae straightened up, smiling sheepishly.

“It’s okay…” Jungkook mumbled. He listened to the two men (mates?) bicker for a few more minutes before he turned to leave.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay getting home?” The man in the white shirt asked him concernedly. Jungkook nodded. “Well… okay, stay safe.”

When he got home, Jungkook scrubbed his skin hard to get rid of the feeling of that man looming over him. He was a little disappointed when the strawberry scent disappeared as well.

Jungkook woke later that afternoon, a little sore and bruised, but otherwise fine. He frowned at the tear on his favorite coat for a while before cooking something to eat. Before long it was early evening, time to head to work.

“You’re fired,” Jungkook’s boss said. Jungkook stared at him.

“What?”

“A customer came to me this morning, told me you attacked him, unprovoked, showed me the bite mark on his hand.”

“It wasn’t unprovoked!” Jungkook snapped. “He attacked me first—and he was harassing another customer!”

“I didn’t hear anything about that, just that you attacked someone,” his boss said. He waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter who started it, the customer is always right.” Jungkook lowered his head, trying to think about whether to curse his boss out, or beg for his job back. He needed the money, but at what point did this job stop being worth it? “It’s nothing personal, but I’m running a business here.” He clapped Jungkook on the shoulder. Jungkook tensed at his touch. “I’ve got to make the tough decisions sometimes.”

Ten minutes later, Jungkook sat on the curb outside the bar, Minho standing beside him, watching him in quiet concern.

“Oh.”

Jungkook looked up, seeing the girl from last night. She smiled hesitantly at him.

He nodded at her. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping to find you here. I wanted to thank you, again, for last night.”

Minho squinted at her. “This is the girl that creep from last night was bothering?” He asked. Jungkook nodded. “Maybe she could talk to the boss, get him to give you your job back.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “You lost your job?”

Jungkook nodded again. “Our ‘friend’ decided to drag me into a dark alley. I defended myself. He complained to my boss, so I lost my job.”

The girl frowned. “That’s ridiculous!”

Jungkook shrugged. “I think I’m done working here anyway. It sucks.” He glanced back at Minho. “No offense.”

Minho snorted. “None taken.”

“So… you don’t want me to try and help you get your job back?” The girl asked. Jungkook shook his head.

“The job search will be hell, but it’ll still be better than this.”

The girl bit her lip. “What if… what if I know a job you could go for?”

“Really?” Jungkook smiled. “That would be great!” He had already been dreading the process of touching up his resume. He hadn’t touched his portfolio since he left his apprenticeship. Unless his arm counted as an example of his work? He tilted his head. “What kind of job?”

Jungkook spent the rest of the night pacing in his apartment. He tried to settle down in his nest, but his nerves wouldn’t let him. He’d counted and recounted his savings, but it wouldn’t be enough to pay his rent and send hyung money. He needed this job. Hopefully the meeting tomorrow morning would go well.

Jin’s Cafe had the name Jin written over and over again on the window. Jungkook frowned, imagining a self-centered manager who wouldn’t be much better than his last.

“They’re really nice,” the girl said, as if she was reading his mind. “I promise.”

The sign on the door was flipped to ‘closed,’ but the girl punched a code into the keypad and opened the door.

The cafe smelled nice. There were the usual coffee and pastry smells, but also a fresh green scent, like a garden. The room was filled with shelves of books, records, and plants. Curving green vines ran under everything from trot to hip hop.

A man was restocking one of the shelves. He turned as they walked in, eyes widening slightly.

“Jiwoo-yah, you’re early. Your shift doesn’t start until later.”

“I know.” She smiled at him. “But, I actually wanted to introduce someone to you. You know how you said you could still use another employee?” She motioned at Jungkook.

“Hello.” Jungkook bowed slightly. “I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“Min Yoongi.” Yoongi dipped his head. “I’m one of the managers here at Jin’s Cafe. Are you open to a casual interview, Jungkook-ssi?”

“Sure.”

“Jiwoo, have you eaten yet?” Yoongi asked her. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen and get some breakfast from hyung? He’s got a new matcha toast he’s trying out.” Jungkook perked up. Yoongi grinned. “Ah. Bring one out for Jungkook-ssi as well.”

“Oh, no, no.” Jungkook shook his head. “It’s fine. I was just… curious.”

“Jin-hyung loves testing his food out on unsuspecting guests,” Yoongi told him, waving Jiwoo along. “So, Jungkook-ssi, do you have any experience working as a barista?”

Jungkook nodded. “I did work in a coffee shop during school.”

Jungkook waited for Yoongi to ask what he went to school for, but instead he asked, “Did you enjoy working there?”

Jungkook smiled. “Yeah. The manager was nice. And good at baking! She made these really good banana nut muffins I always used my employee discount on.”

“Do you have any interest in books, or plants, or music?” Yoongi asked. “We sell all three, so it’s good to know a little about them.”

“Well, I don’t know read much, and I don’t know anything about plants, but I do like listening to music,” Jungkook told him honestly. He and Yoongi talked about what kind of music they liked to listen to until Jiwoo came out again with a plate for Jungkook. The matcha toast was pretty, the green spread contrasting nicely with a neat row of strawberries on top.

“It’s yummy,” Jiwoo said. “Have some.”

“But don’t praise it too much, or hyung’s head will get too big,” Yoongi added. Jungkook actually lost his ability to talk for a moment, savoring the flavors mixing in his mouth. He let out a few appreciative noises. Yoongi frowned. “You don’t have to keeping eating it if you don’t like it.”

“What?” Jungkook frowned back at him. “But, it’s so good.”

“But your face is so angry!” Jiwoo protested.

“Oh…” Jungkook scratched the side of his face. “That’s just… how I look when I enjoy things.”

Yoongi grinned. “How cute.”

Jungkook flushed. “I…”

“You have green on your mouth,” Jiwoo told him. Jungkook groaned as she handed him a napkin. Yoongi was still smiling.

“Jungkook-ssi, how would you feel about starting on a trial basis?” He asked. “You haven’t met the rest of us yet, so I’d like to see how we all get along first, but I like what I’m hearing from you so far.”

“That would be great.” Jungkook bowed again. “Please take care of me.”

“No need to be so formal,” Yoongi said. “How old are you? Call me hyung.”

Jiwoo, as it turned out, was Jungkook’s same-age friend. She dropped formalities quickly, complimenting the purple tips of Jungkook’s hair as she walked him through how to use the espresso machine. Jungkook liked how she filled any silences with cheerful chatter before they could get awkward.

As soon as she finished running him through the sales system, Yoongi shooed him out the door.

“I wouldn’t start you on the morning rush for you first shift!” Yoongi said. “Are you free later tonight? We can introduce you to the rest of the guys and show you how to close up.”

“That sounds good, hyung.”

Jungkook walked home with a little spring to his step. He saw his brother had texted him, asking if he’d be available for a video chat with Seoyeon soon. Jungkook settled down in his nest, hugging the plush rabbit that Seoyeon had sent him from his last birthday. She had a matching one, “So when I hug my bunny, you hug yours, and it’s like we’re hugging each other, samchon!”

Junghyun answered after the first ring.

“What’s wrong?”

“What? Why does something have to be wrong for me to call you? You texted me earlier.”

“Yeah, but you hardly ever respond to my texts. Usually, I have to get Seoyeon to lure you in if I want a response.”

Jungkook pouted. “That’s not true.”

“…Sure. So, what’s up?”

“Well, don’t freak out, but I got fired.”

“…Jungkook.”

“It’s fine! Totally fine! I didn’t like that job much anyway, and anyways, I got a new job already!” Jungkook didn’t tell Junghyun why he’d gotten fired, but he told him all about Jiwoo and Yoongi and how nice they were being to him.

“It really sounds like you could get along with them well,” Junghyun thought. Jungkook hummed in agreement. “I’m happy for you.”

Jungkook usually got along with coworkers, but he had never been too close to any of them. Jiwoo and Yoongi seemed like people he wouldn’t mind spending time with even outside of work.

“I’m excited,” he admitted. “I hope it all works out.”

[biaswreckme]

the brink of a wrinkle in time | namgi

His name was Yoongi, Namjoon learned the first time he crossed the glass door from the harsh and freezing weather into the warmth of the industrial shop.

Pairing: Namjoon/Yoongi

Member: Namjoon, Yoongi

Length: 930 words

Genre: Fluff, Coffee Shop AU, Romance

Rating: Teen and Up/PG-13

Triggers/Warnings: alcohol is mentioned once

You can read it on: AO3

Project: Heating Up, from @thebtswritersclub

Project prompt: Coffee Shop

If ever given a choice, Namjoon would much prefer going to a coffee shop to do his work instead of going to the office or even working from home. At the office, even though he was working with other producers and musicians, there were too many people coming and going and being generally loud that it disrupted his work flow. At home, there were too many distractions, not limited to but including his roommate Hoseok. There was always something else to do to procrastinate, even though he loved working with music - especially now, working on his own project. So he found this little place with a blue sign near his apartment that was open every single day of the week, and camped at one of the few tables for the afternoons. There were people coming and going, for sure, but they were never too loud, and the smell of fresh coffee being frequently made in addition to the pleasurable sound of the machines and utensils working created the ideal environment for him. 

The fact that one of the two afternoon baristas was someone very similar to a grumpy cat - a handsome one, that is - also helped a lot. His name was Yoongi, Namjoon learned the first time he crossed the glass door from the harsh and freezing weather into the warmth of the industrial shop. He thought he had fallen in love that very first afternoon - well, started harboring his strong crush - when Yoongi had brewed him a hot americano and put it on the counter with a small nod in his direction. Now Namjoon had replaced the heavy thick coat for a light jacket and the hot americano for a cold one. There were very few words exchanged between them the entire time, but whenever they talked, Namjoon felt something akin to butterflies in his stomach and he had to hold his own hands to stop them from shaking. 

Namjoon had to almost run to the coffee shop that day, for the rain was pouring heavily, his umbrella barely able to do its job, his backpack to his chest to protect his laptop from the water. The seemingly always grumpy barista was there again, his back to the windows. Even with the downpour, Namjoon had to pause and take a deep breath before entering the cafe to try to appease the butterflies making a mess of his insides. But there was something different. Something had changed. As soon as Namjoon crossed the threshold and put his umbrella in the designated place, despite the awful weather outside, Yoongi looked at him and smiled. He smiled. A beacon of happiness to Namjoon’s week, that gummy smile taking him by surprise.

“You’re RM, right?” he asked, handing him his now usual order of a large iced americano, before Namjoon had even ordered it.

“What?” Namjoon froze by the door, not believing the scene in front of him and what he heard.

“The rapper and producer, RM? I’ve seen you working on music before, just hadn’t connected the possible dots yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. How did you know?”

“Hearing you order here and then listening to RM’S music, I couldn’t help but wonder if it were you… the depth and low tone of your voice, especially when you sing…” Yoongi trailed off, suddenly even shier at speaking the truth.

It was the first time someone had recognized Namjoon for who he was as a musician and he couldn’t feel happier - and even more proud of himself. Especially when it was his crush recognizing him and his work. It was also the first time that Namjoon sat at the counter to talk to Yoongi, never once even crossing his mind to open his bag to retrieve his laptop to keep on refining his new songs. Conversation flowed, and time passed without any of them really noticing. It was almost as if they were hypnotized; a trance of good conversation and an even bigger interest from both parts, truly starting to get to know each other. As the place was closing for the day, Namjoon shakily inhaled deeply then exhaled, gathering every little sliver of courage he possessed.

“Maybe we could go out sometime for a coffee? Well, not for a coffee, I imagine you wouldn’t like that after being around it all day at your job, but maybe for a drink? Or a talk? Or maybe…” Namjoon had a tendency to ramble when he was nervous, and Yoongi could not help but smile again, finding it adorable how flustered the other seemed to be.

“Coffee works just fine, I love coffee. As long as it is not here, I quite enjoy going to new places.” 

“It's a date then. I mean, sorry, if you don't mean it that way, but…” 

Yoongi had to interrupt again, wanting to reassure Namjoon that they were on the same page, with the same intentions. “It is a date.” 

And so they would slowly go on dates, meeting for coffee - and sometimes for whiskey at different bars across town -, learning more about pasts, presents, and their possible futures together, delving deeper into each other’s minds and having thoughtful conversations. It would be winter again, just around the same time Namjoon entered the coffee shop for the first time a year before, when Yoongi would come from around the counter to shyly kiss him on the lips in greeting, leaving Namjoon stunned. Namjon guessed he would have to be used to getting surprised by Yoongi, and he could not wait to see what more was in store for them.

[lilprincegoo]

lock it and leave me (with my dignity) by kiwiismewe

seokjin/jungkook

Meet-Cute, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Humor, gamer!jungkook, barista!seokjin, Alternate Universe - College/University

6.4 words

rating: G

After embarrassing himself at the campus coffee shop, Jungkook becomes enamored with one of the baristas, and for some unknown reason even catches his attention. Now if only he could stop making a fool of himself.

[stacywaters]

Coffee and Violets (SUGA) CH3 - Visiting the Flower Shop

(Yoongi POV)

"Did you talk to her?? Did you like her? Are you guys going on a date soon?" Hoseok bombardes me with questions the second I walk through the door.

"Woah- slow down. We just chatted for a bit, why the rush?" I ask.

"Ah, I should've figured as much." He pouts and goes back to the shipping label he was printing for an order.

"...I did get her number though"

"WHAT?!?!?!?"

——————————————————————————

"So she's coming over tomorrow? What are you going to wear?" Hoseok asks.

"The same thing I always do? She's just going to look at my lyrics.., It's not like a date."

"Sure. It's not a date. I believe you."

"It isn't!" I yell back, my face starting to burn red.

"Haha! You're blushing! I told you you'd like her~" He sings while running out of the room.

Damn it, Hoseok. He always overreacts. What's the big deal, anyway? Is it not normal to invite someone over? Or to give them your number?

...Is it?

*ding*

I pull my phone from my pocket and read the message.

Y/N: Hey! Just checking to see what time you wanted me to come over tomorrow :)

I blink rapidly, trying to comprehend the text in front of me. I start to type out a response, "Anytime is really fine. We're not busy."

Y/N: Alright! See you tomorrow then! 😃

I set my phone back on the table. Hoseok walks in, "What was that dinging sound earlier? Did she text you?"

"Yeah"

"WHAT DID SHE SAY?" He yells while grabbing my phone from the table. As he scrolls through the messages, he says, "You didn't even respond to her. It's rude to leave people on read, y'know."

"There was nothing left to say" I respond.

He starts typing something out and hits 'send'.

"Much better!" He replies.

"What did you do??" I reply, panicked.

He hands me the phone to show the message, reading: I can't wait to see you 😊

"HOSEOK!! I would never say that! That's so dumb, she's gonna think I like her or something."

"Don't you?" He smirks.

We're interrupted by another ding from my phone. Hoseok gets to it before me and reads out the message, "Oh? Catching feelings already?"

—————————————————————————

(Y/N POV) 

Why did I send that?? I question myself. I hardly even know him, I shouldn't be joking like this.

I type out another message to clarify the previous one.

Y/N: Just kidding. You better not haha

Yoongi: Why? Do you have a boyfriend?

Y/N: I might.

Yoongi: What's his name?

Y/N: Okay, I don't. You still better not catch feelings, I know how tempting I am ;)

Yoongi: I promise.

I set my phone down on the counter, giggling to myself as another customer walks in.

"Hey! What can I get for ya?"

——————————————————————————————————

Before I step out of the cafe to go to the coffee shop, I give myself one last look. I'm currently wearing a gray sweatshirt with black jeans and my tennis shoes. Wow. I really chose to not dress up at all.

It's too late to change though and I wouldn't anyways. I step out and walk a step or two before opening a new, different door.

"Hi! Welcome to- OH HEY Y/N!!" Hoseok greets.

"Hi" I timidly grin as I step into the shop.

"Yoongi's just in the back- I'll lead you there!"

I follow him behind the counter into a large room with long, black tables and shelves covered with foliage.

"Yoongi~ your date's here" Hoseok calls to him.

"I'M NOT-"

"SHE ISN'T-"

"Relax! I'm just kidding. Have fun you two!" And with that, Hoseok goes back to the front of the store.

Yoongi turns around and makes eye contact with me, a small smile playing on his lips.

"h-Hey" I say apprehensively, breaking the eye contact and instead glancing down at my worn sneakers.

"Uh, hi. Here, you can sit next to me." He turns away, his face turning a pale pink.

I walk over and sit on the stool next to him. Despite the large room, I still feel too close. I fumble with my hands and bite my bottom lip. I didn't realize this would be so awkward. Why did I agree to this? And why is it so much easier to chat with him when it's over text?

(Yoongi POV)

This was so much easier when it was Hoseok writing the messages... I tap my pencil against the desk while looking over the pages of lyrics in front of me.

"U-um this- er.., these are the lyrics I have so far. They're pretty new so if they don't sound good then-"

"You read my writing yesterday. Don't worry, I'm not gonna judge yours" She smiles sweetly at me while gently pulling the papers from my hands. I watch timidly as she reads through them.

"These are really good" she says, turning back to me, "but- well..," She pauses in thought.

"You can say it, it's okay" I say.

"It's just, well, they leave me a little heartbroken."

Her words surprise me. Heartbroken?

"It sounds like you've been through so much, and I just," her voice wobbles and a tear escapes her eye.

I rest my hand on her shoulder, "Hey, hey, why are you crying? I'm okay, we're fine."

She turns to me, her teary eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights.

"I don't want you to have gone through that. That's so terrible. I want you... to be happy" She turns away, "You deserve to be happy."

A light laugh escapes my lips, "First of all, you don't know me. Maybe I don't deserve to be happy."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!! You're a good person and you deserve to be happy! I just know it!"

I gasp at her outburst. Everything, the pout on her lips, the dark blush on her cheeks, her passion, the way she defends me when I can't even defend myself, all of it draws me to her. This is the first time, in so long, that I've felt... loved. She doesn't even know me and yet, her presence feels so warm.

"Thank you."

Why am I already so attached to her?

Am I...

Falling for her?

Next Chapter?

[biaswreckmepls]

Fan-Chosen BTS fics #3 - March 2024 - Day 8 (BONUS)

Extra Cream

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121209

Author: 1995soulmates

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Park Jimin/Kim Taehyung

Status: Completed

Chapters: 1/1 (7108 words)

Tags: Coffee Shop AU

Summary:

Taehyung doesn't even like coffee, but he likes Jimin. So he visits Jimin's coffee shop regularly, makes small conversation, and hopes one day he works up enough nerve to ask him out.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121209

[mightbekelly]

Despite Despising Coffee - A NamJin Coffee Shop AU

Title:Despite Despising Coffee

Ship: NamJin

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 5.1k

Namjoon HATES coffee, but when Yoongi drags him into a cafe for his caffeine-fix Namjoon finds a reason to keep coming back.

SNIPPET

Namjoon hated coffee. 

The smell of it was too overwhelming. The taste of it was too bitter unless drowned in saccharin syrups. It made people’s breath smell bad. Namjoon much preferred tea that he could brew at home over going to a trendy coffee shop where he’d be surrounded by coffee snobs and the overwhelming smell that seemed to permeate his clothes by proximity. He’d only ended up in the corner coffee shop one day because his best friend, Yoongi, declared he needed a cup of the vile liquid or he would die. Literally die. 

"You're not going to die, hyung," Namjoon pointed out as he trailed in behind Yoongi. He tried to breathe through his mouth to avoid the pungent aroma of coffee, but that just made it feel like the smell was coating his tongue.

"If I have to go another fifteen minutes without caffeine in my blood system, then I will keel over and pass away," Yoongi argued as he made a bee-line for the queue at the counter. "You know, you didn't have to follow me in here."

Namjoon frowned. "It's cold outside," he complained. "I could have just made you a cup of tea at my house before we left."

"Tea is weak sauce," Yoongi shook his head. "I need the strong stuff. I've built up a resistance and need Herculean amounts of my bean juice to maintain a normal standard of living."

"Fine, but we're taking it to go. Right?"

"Yes, Joonie. If only to keep from having to hear you complain the entire time," Yoongi sighed.

"Thanks, hyung," Namjoon said, trying to sound as sweet and sincere as possible. Namjoon crossed his arms and let his eyes wander over the interior of the coffee shop.

The cafe was quaint, if Namjoon's notions of coffee shops were anything to go by. To be fair, he was more familiar with Central Perk from Friends than any actual coffee shops. This one had a couple of table rounds with seating. There was a bench along one wall with interspersed square tables, each big enough to seat two. Those were primarily occupied by people with large mugs and laptops in front of them. There was a small bookcase in the corner with books that offered reading material and a sign advertisement for the bookstore next door. If the place didn't reek of coffee Namjoon would almost call it comfortable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it was Yoongi's turn to order. Namjoon had been looking over the items in the display case beside the register contemplating getting a snack. Unfortunately his appetite was completely killed by the unpleasant fragrance in the shop.

"Welcome to Java Nice Day Cafe," came a cheerful voice that drew Namjoon's attention away from the scones and other assorted baked goods.

There, behind the counter with a black marker in hand, stood the most handsome man Namjoon had ever seen. His lips were soft and full, his eyes cheerful and a warm brown, flawless skin, and broad shouldered. Even his voice was music to Namjoon’s ears. Namjoon felt his mouth go dry as he instinctively stepped behind Yoongi as if trying to hide from the gaze of this perfect man. The move was in vain, given how many centimetres he had on his hyung.

"Large americano, extra shot of espresso," Yoongi said.

"For here?" the man asked.

"To go," Yoongi clarified.

Without looking, the man behind the counter reached towards the pile of paper to-go cups beside the register to grab the largest cup available. He glanced down only to scribble on the side as he asked for the name on the cup, which Yoongi provided. Then he placed the cup down on the opposite side, closest to the coffee bar and the barista who was working through the orders before Yoongi's.

Then those bright eyes turned and looked directly at Namjoon. "And for you?"

Namjoon felt heat rush to his cheeks as his brain short-circuited. His mouth opened to respond, but no words came out.

Yoongi looked over his shoulder at Namjoon. "Did you want something, Joonie?"

Again, Namjoon's mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. It wasn't that his voice was gone, but the vocabulary centers of his brain were completely offline. 

Silence drew out between them.

The man at the counter looked back to Yoongi. "Is your boyfriend okay?"

"Not his boyfriend," Namjoon blurted out and promptly he wished the ground would open up to swallow him whole.

The man's eyes returned to him, an eyebrow raised. "Is that so?" 

Namjoon nodded.

[nightscapepersona]

Fly V to the Moon - Ch. 27

“The one where he wants to be where she is”

Aaaaand... this is the end of Part 1 of Fly V to the Moon. I’ve decided to split this journey into two parts, as we have come a long way, but there’s still so much I have left to write. I think these 27 chapters can stand well on their own, as they tell the journey of Lia and our Tae coming together. But! There’s more to the story! Some of my favorite future chapters have not been written yet. I’ll announce Part 2 soon, but in the meantime, enjoy these 27 little things. Twenty-seven chapters for our almost 27 year-old. Every like and every read you’ve given to this little piece of my heart has genuinely, truthfully, sincerely meant a lot! :) Thank you for flying to the moon with us.

Pairing: Taehyung x OFC

Genre: Fluff, Idol AU, Coffee Shop AU, Café Singer OFC, Slow Burn

Warnings: Light swearing, but it’s all for banter. Again, this is fluff.

Word count: 2.2k (Usually short chapters!)

Recommended Songs: Christmas Tree — V; Easy Love — Pentatonix; Sunflower — Harry Styles; Fly Me to the Moon — covered by Suhyun; L.O.V.E. — covered by Suhyun .

Summary: She’s a foreign elementary school teacher by day, a charming singer by night. Taehyung and company discover her at a small garden jazz café where she had a gig one night, only to find out from Jin that she was an arts teacher at a local school in Seoul — Jin's nephew and niece’s teacher, in fact. Taehyung finds himself on a surprise adventure to the moon.

Masterlist

✻  ✻  ✻

Fly V to the Moon — by Nightscape Persona

Chapter 27: The one where he wants to be where she is

It was the day of the Winter Farewell Show.

A Friday in the second week of March.

Showtime was drawing near by the minute, and Lia was doing what you’re supposed to before a show: wait and try to calm down.

That day they had been waiting in a small ward across the terrace. Across the garden on the compound of the café that had been recently refurbished. Though most of it had been adapted as a gallery and private rooms for distinguished guests, a ward had been kept as a dressing room for invited artists.

Funnily enough, as soon as she’d walked into the café earlier that afternoon, she had been notified of a gift awaiting her in the dressing room.

An arrangement of flowers.

A bouquet of sinuous shimmer roses, apricot peonies, and peach carnations, adorned with fluffy bunny tail grass.

An exquisite bouquet with a small card attached to it that bore a message from none other than…

Taehyung (HeR bOyfRiEnD).

It was not handwritten by him, but it was heartfelt.

          Since I cannot be where you are.

                                                     —V

She had gone bananas internally. Her bandmates had gone bananas externally, and she had no other choice but to tell them. That he’d sent the flowers, of course.

Not anything else. She still hadn’t told them about what happened after their date. All they knew was that it went very well. No one knew they’d met again. Not even Jihyo knew they were now on official terms. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea to let so many people into their little thing yet. Or ever perhaps. Even if they were as see-through as glass.

So that’s as far as she’d told them, that he’d sent the flowers.

And they went even more bananas.

She too was over the moon and floating on helium, but a little thorn threatened to spike into her balloon whenever she had to say that no, he wouldn’t make it to the show. The balloon also threatened to fly her higher and higher whenever they teased her about it, because, yes, her boyfriend had sent her flowers and she was giddy as fuck.

Anyways. That had been over an hour earlier.

It was now twenty minutes till three in the afternoon of a warm-ish Friday in the second week of a thawing March. The rush of adrenaline before a new show was settling in, and Lia was trying to assuage her nerves.

She was currently caressing the meanders of a carnation flower as she quietly sang one song.

“And I’ll tell you…”

Focused on the pretty flower and her thoughts. On the song—his song—that spoke, amusingly, of thoughts thought by her.

Focused on the person it brought back memories of.

“A million little reasons...”

Too focused to hear the half-muffled expression uttered by her bandmate. 

“Oh my go—!”

Muffled as if something covered her mouth. Or something. Perhaps a hand.

Typical banter among the band.

The door creaked shut as feet shuffled around it.

“I’m falling for your eyes.”

Still, she continued singing. She was used to the noise and the quiet and the going and coming before a show. And she had nerves to dampen, so she paid them no mind.

“I just want to be where you are.”

What took her out of the reverie of sinuate petals and the soft song and warm thoughts was someone clearing his throat right behind her.

Someone she immediately recognized.

But it couldn’t be.

Her finger stopped tracing the flower.

The room was absolutely silent. Like everybody else had left, which was normal.

Except for the sound of gentle breathing behind her.

No.

It couldn’t be.

“Then it’s good I made it to where you are.”

No way.

Lia turned around in a heartbeat to his tall figure clad in brown before the door, a grin plastered on his face.

“What—but what—how—you’re—?”

Such eloquence.

“What are you doing here? Oh my god!”

She ran across the tiny room, and much to her dismay, he pulled her into a bear hug, belly laughing at her astonishment, as her voice went higher and higher.

You’d think they’d know each other for years, judging from how Taehyung had enfolded her inside his arms so tightly, almost crushing her, and how she had wrapped her own arms around his torso in response, zero resistance, happily letting herself be swayed from side to side by him, cheeks squished against his shoulder. A waft of his cologne hit her right in the face. One more thing she didn’t need to feel absolutely intoxicated.

She could stay there forever, you know. But she was in disbelief and required to know how his act of presence was even possible.

She broke off the hug, though still very much clinging to Taehyung, ogling him with eyes of wonder.

“How—you’re here—how is this possible?”

His eyes mirrored her merriment.

“Are you not supposed to be in—across the world?”

They were so close. She could see the mole below his eye as he shrugged.

“Well, we had a gap in our schedules and I asked if I could run away for a few hours.”

She just gawked at him. He was not a holo, but he seemed like one. As if she blinked, the illusion would disappear.

“So here I am.”

She was in pure disbelief.

“For a few hours.”

That was more than enough.

His face was only centimeters away. His face, which was very much real, and very much there right in front of her. Her hands wanted to cup his cheeks, and she let them.

His eyes glinted at her touch.

“Are you crazy?”

A mellow laughter.

“Maybe. But I couldn’t miss this. Seeing you on your favorite show yet.”

She ignored the awareness in her brain that he’d flown halfway across the world for a few hours to see her. She ignored it or she would go as insane as he was for doing such a thing.

“My flight leaves at 4.”

He was there. So close.

Irradiating heat. Gazing at her. Beaming at her. Holding her.

“4 in the morning?”

She took notice of his rosewood lips.

“Yes.”

His own eyes trailed over hers, mimicking her, like an echo.

She felt compelled to kiss him.

She was frozen in place—because of disbelief or excitement or nervousness or his handsome face being only inches away or his arms all around her, or everything at once—, but she felt an irresistible force begging her to kiss him.

So she did.

As scared of someone walking into the room as she was. Of someone seeing them all up in each other’s square meter. Her hands cradling his cheeks. His hands cradling her waist.

She unthawed the rest of her body into movement and made her face budge towards his face.

He leaned to meet her in the middle.

Like petals.

Soft.

Smooth.

Carnations.

Just a brush.

It was just a peck.

But it made her stupidly giddy.

When their lips parted ways, turning to smiles against each other, she was surprised by their softness pressing against her temple. Which made her grow shy even if she was smitten by it.

It was all very new, that sort of affection.

She was loving it, but still could only look down at the ground. His eyes followed hers down.

He immediately took notice of her shirt, his grin increasing in radiance by a thousand suns.

Yes, she had chosen to wear his Monet shirt for that gig.

“You’re actually wearing it!”

He walked back to look at her, stretching her arms, but not letting go of her hands.

“How could I not! It’s just in time for spring!”

He laughed.

Someone knocked on the door, taking them out of their little moment.

They dropped out of each other’s hands. For good measure.

“Teeeeen minutes for the shoooow!”

Gayeon.

They waited to see if she would come in. Apprehension in their faces. The door didn’t open.

“I should go grab my seat,” he said, shifting his feet towards the door.

A matter wandered through Lia’s brain.

“Taehyung.”

“Yes?,” his eyes turned to Lia, interest piqued by her serious tone.

“It’s better if no one sees us, right? To keep it between as few people as possible. Isn’t it?”

He sighed, but nodded.

“Well. Yes. Of course. For our privacy,” he pointed his finger between them. “But if you trust them, I don’t see why you shouldn’t tell your band.”

He moved his hand to tuck a curl of hair behind her ear.

“Okay.”

He smiled then.

“I’ll see you then.”

She gestured towards the bouquet.

“Thank you for the—.”

His eyes widened.

“Oh! I almost forgot!”

He started patting around his coat, quite earnestly. Quite comically.

Lia was giggling now.

After some searching, he retrieved a small pearl card from a pocket inside the coat.

“Aha.”

Taehyung held it up triumphantly and handed it to Lia, ceremoniously. His own way of dealing with nerves, she supposed.

“Pretend it came with the bouquet. I wanted the card to be handwritten, but that would have been impossible, you know, given that I ordered it from another continent entirely and all.”

She turned it over.

          I just want to be where you are.

“But since I’m here now.”

She looked at him, fondness welling up inside her chest and hummingbirds fluttering around her belly.

His eyes were puddles of warmth, and she could get lost inside them. Fall inside them, just like Alice down the rabbit hole. She’d never stop falling for his eyes.

But someone knocked on the door again.

“Hello! I’m coming in!”

Jimin.

Of course.

The door opened a little bit.

“They told me to tell you it’s minus six minutes now,” Jimin smiled, peeking through the gap. “Hi!”

Lia giggled as she greeted him, sort of sheepish, sort of happy to see Taehyung had not come alone. Jimin walked in and went straight for a hug. A gentle hug that said many things.

“It’s nice to see you,” he said sweetly, letting go. “But I have to take your lovebird with me so you can go do your show now.”

He winked as he started to drag Taehyung outside of the room.

“Wait, wait, wait!,” Taehyung squawked.

“Okay, you have five seconds,” Jimin turned towards the corridor.

Taehyung rushed across the room to give Lia one more hug. She stopped him in his tracks and pecked his cheek.

“Thank you for the flowers!,” Lia said hurriedly, “I truly love them! And thank you for coming! I know it was—.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Aw,” Jimin added from the tiny hall.

She was blushing, she was sure.

“Good luck!,” he said.

“I love you!”

The words just poured out of her mouth like petals, easily, and his eyes sparkled at them.

“And thank you too, Jimin!”

Jimin came back to drag Taehyung out of the dressing room for real.

Lia pulled Taehyung in for a quick hug one last time before he was ushered away. His cologne hit her senses like a truck one more time.

“Sure! Happy to see you! See you after. You—”

He clasped Taehyung by the arm as he hurried to send her a flying kiss before he disappeared through the door, both men giggling like idiots.

. . .

The show was a blur.

A blur of colors apricot and tangerine and cantaloupe and punch. Like the flower installations hanging and swiveling and swaying all around the café. Like the bouquet waiting in the other room. Like the afternoon colors gleaming in the sky above the garden.

A blur of songs about sunflowers and easy love and a little million reasons to fall in love with someone.

A blur of carnations and petal lips and bear hugs and hands cradling her face. 

She was ecstatic, and it had truly been one of her favorite shows until then. In part for the occasion, their repertoire, of course, but mostly due to the surprise. A fever dream.

All throughout the show she had glanced at the little low lit corner where he was, on the other side of the garden, and she couldn't help to feel that if she blinked, he would disappear in a heartbeat. But he didn’t.

He had come. 

A blur of words he’d said two weeks ago started echoing inside her mind.

But I will make time for you. If that’s what you’re asking.

He’d made time. He came.

I’ll try every time I can.

He had the chance to come, and he took it.

I will always pull through for you because I believe this is worth it.

All she’d asked was for him to care, and she would be there, no grudges to promises he couldn’t make nor keep. She didn’t expect… this. She didn’t expect this level of commitment (though it’s also called having money, cause those private jets sure ain’t cheap, you kno—shut up, Lia).

Here he was, coming through. Here he was on the first of many times where he would show her he cared. He had stayed true to those words, those little promises.

And so he would continue to do. That was what they would grow to have, an easy love, like the drip drop of water off old tile roofs after a monsoon.

She could see now the place he had made for her in the equation of his life.

And fireworks burst inside her chest.

Thus they said farewell to winter and welcomed spring.

New beginnings.

✻  ✻  ✻

Masterlist

✻  ✻  ✻

All chapters: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5  — Chapter 6  — Chapter 7 — Chapter 8 — Chapter 9  — Chapter 10 — Chapter 11 — Chapter 12 — Chapter 13 — Chapter 14 — Chapter 15 — Chapter 16 — Chapter 17 — Chapter 18 — Chapter 19  — Chapter 20 — Chapter 21 — Chapter 22 — Chapter 23 — Chapter 24 — Chapter 25 — Chapter 26 — Chapter 27 — Update on Part 2 — Part 2 Preview

[bloody-bee-tea]

BeeTober 2023 Day 17 - Auction

“Hey, Geto, your stalker is here,” Yuji loudly calls out and Suguru stiffens before he slowly turns around, dread already forming in his gut.

To his immense relieve he spots a mop of fluffy white hair, which means it’s not Mahito. Satoru might be a stalker as well, but at least he’s less of the worrying and more of the annoying kind.

Satoru doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before Suguru says “No.”

“Aw, come on,” Satoru immediately pleads, flopping down over the counter as if he’s made out of water instead of flesh and bones. “Please?”

“I am not going to make your damn concoction,” Suguru says because the thing that Satoru orders on the regular is revolting and honestly a little bit worrying.

He’s going to die of diabetes one day, and he can’t be older than twenty two. He’s too young to die.

“How else am I going to survive then?” Satoru whines out, blinking up at Suguru who tries his best not to get lost in those damn blue eyes.

“Find another coffee shop?” he suggests and busies himself with wiping down the counter, pushing Satoru off in the process.

“And make you lose your best customer? I think not,” Satoru shoots back to which Suguru only rolls his eyes.

“Worst customer, you mean,” he replies and Satoru pouts at him.

“If you don’t make my coffee, I’ll stay here until your shift ends and then I’ll accompany you home,” Satoru finally says—threatens more like—and after giving him the flattest stare Suguru can muster, he turns around and gets started on Satoru’s concoction.

He pointedly doesn’t think about the fact that he has the monstrosity memorised, which is actually quite the feat considering that Satoru uses almost all their toppings in it.

“Aw, I knew you loved me,” Satoru sighs out when he puts it down in front of him and there is something entirely too pleased on his face.

“Now get out of my face,” Suguru tells him, not having much hope that Satoru will leave immediately.

He usually likes to stick around for a while, at least until his drink is empty, and Suguru knows that he’s quite friendly with all of the staff. It’s just Suguru who he seems to annoy to no end; even Shoko had a nice thing to say about him even though she only comes in to pester their manager Utahime and Suguru doesn’t even want to think about that.

“If it isn’t my favourite barista,” a new voice jolts Suguru out of his thoughts and this time, a cold shudder runs down his back.

He curses the day Mahito found out where he works and coming face to face with him now, it’s not the first time that Suguru debates if quitting his job here wouldn’t be easier.

The only thing stopping him is the fact that Mahito will find him again sooner or later and Suguru is not a job hopper.

“Go fuck yourself,” Suguru says, not even pretending to be nice to him and he can feel Yuji’s eyes on him.

It’s a badly kept secret that he and Mahito have a history and it’s even a worse kept secret that Mahito is an unhinged creep who is probably going to try something sooner or later.

Suguru is just waiting for the other shoe to drop and it’s making him sick to his stomach.

“I’d rather you do it,” Mahito drawls out and Suguru sneers at him.

“Not a chance in hell,” he presses out, even though he knows he shouldn’t engage with him more than he has to but he can’t help himself.

“We’ll see about that,” Mahito ominously says and Suguru clenches his teeth so hard together he fears they are going to crack.

There’s a tense silence for a few moments before Yuji butts in.

“A customer, how nice. Geto, you’re needed elsewhere,” he says and nudges him out of the way. “What can I get you?” he then asks Mahito and there’s only cheer in his voice but Suguru caught a glimpse of his expression and it’s pretty jarring to see easy going Yuji glare at someone like that.

Still, Suguru is thankful for it and shuffles to the side, as far away from Mahito as he can be. He didn’t notice that it put him close to Satoru though.

“You okay?” Satoru asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and even he is giving Mahito a considering glance.

“Fine,” Suguru shortly gives back though he softens a bit when Satoru frowns at his response. “Promise, I’m fine. He’s just—”

He doesn’t actually know how to finish that sentence but Satoru hums.

“Unhinged and dangerous?” he finally asks and Suguru huffs out an unamused laugh.

“Probably, yeah,” he admits, eyeing Mahito.

He’s scrawny as hell, but Suguru knows that he’s sturdy and lithe. He couldn’t take Suguru in a fight, not ever, but that’s not always the most dangerous thing anyway. He knows Mahito is fast, and crazy enough to carry weapons with him. Plus, he has no regard for his own well-being and Suguru would really rather not clash with him.

He might have to, though, if Mahito keeps up his stalking tendencies because Suguru will not allow him to find out where he lives.

“You staying safe?” Satoru asks, eying Mahito up and down as if he’s seizing him up.

“Trying to,” Suguru shortly gives back and then turns away from Mahito. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Fair,” Satoru agrees and then smiles at Suguru. “Now, here’s the movie I saw last night,” he then says and Suguru immediately groans.

Satoru has the extremely annoying habit to retell a movie in excruciating detail and Suguru already feels his brain leak out of his ears.

“Not a chance,” he interrupts Satoru before he can even really start, which makes him pout again and Suguru sighs, almost immediately giving in. “You have ten sentences to describe the movie,” he relents and immediately regrets his every life choice when Satoru’s eyes start to sparkle.

They really are incredibly blue, Suguru finds himself thinking right before Satoru assaults him with endless run-on sentences. Suguru is not even sure he pauses to take a breath and by the time Satoru finally falls silent again, a good fifteen minutes have passed.

“You’re insane,” is all Suguru can say to the onslaught he just had to withstand and Satoru grins at him.

“It worked though, so worth it,” Satoru declares and it’s only then that Suguru remembers Mahito.

He whips around but he only sees Yuji who gives him a thumbs up.

“He left like ten minutes ago!”

Suguru lets out a breath of relief and even manages a smile for Satoru.

“Thanks, I guess,” he awkwardly says because he has to admit that it did kind of work and that it was incredibly kind of Satoru to distract him like that.

“Thank me by giving me my next drink for free,” Satoru says, batting his eyes at him.

“Absolutely not,” Suguru immediately replies because one, he made that drink often enough to know that it costs a small fortune and two, he’s not going to enable Satoru’s sugar intake.

“You meanie,” Satoru grumbles but he keeps smiling at Suguru. “Anyway, see you next time I guess,” he then calls out, dumping his cup in the trash and waving at Suguru.

“Not too soon, please,” Suguru calls after him but he knows that Satoru will be back two days later because he always comes in on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, just like clockwork.

“He’s really nice,” Yuji suddenly says from behind him and Suguru does not jump.

“He’s an annoying, arrogant brat.” He knows that because he spent enough time chatting with him when Satoru comes in to pick up his drink.

He’s also incredibly intelligent, self-aware, passionate about the things he enjoys, kind and somewhat of a nerd. Suguru has no idea what to make of him, if he’s being honest.

“Better than that other guy,” Yuji says with a shrug and Suguru has to agree with him.

Satoru is way better than Mahito.

~*~*~

Suguru doesn’t know why he didn’t protest harder when the promotion idea for the shop came up the first time, but when his name is being called out he regrets his every life choice that brought him here.

Auctioning each of their staff off for an hour had seemed like a great idea on paper—especially with how popular they all were—until Suguru has to stand in the spotlight and he spots Mahito in the crowd.

He really should have known better.

Mahito gives him a grin that makes goose bumps break out all over his body and he wonders if he can fake being sick to get out of this.

“The starting bid is 1.500¥,” Utahime calls out to the crowd and immediately there are plates being lifted.

Suguru thinks he’d be equal parts flattered and embarrassed when the bids go up to 15.000¥ in almost no time, but the fact that Mahito is still bidding as well makes cold sweat break out on his forehead.

He’ll only have to spend an hour with him, and they will stay in the shop so there is not really something that could happen but with Mahito everything is possible, and not in a good way.

If this goes on, Suguru doesn’t have to fake being sick.

“I see 20.000¥,” Utahime says and Suguru doesn’t even have to check to know that it’s Mahito’s bid. “Going once, twice and—”

“150.000¥,” a new voice calls out and silence falls over the room.

“What the fuck,” Yuji mutters out next to Suguru and Suguru wants to agree.

That’s an incredible amount of money and he thinks he knows who the voice belongs to.

“150.000¥ going once, going twice,” Utahime gets back into the swing after a short, surprised silence, “and sold to the guy with the number 8!”

Suguru would love to confirm if it really is Satoru who just spent an obscene amount of money to spend one hour with him, but before he can Mahito is leaning in way too close.

“You’ll regret that,” he whispers before he’s bodily shoved out of the way by a smiling Satoru.

“Suguru! I do believe this hour is mine,” he says with a nasty look at Mahito and Suguru can only mutely nod. “Wonderful, I ordered food and drinks, so if you would, please,” he sing-songs and offers Suguru his arm as if he’s a damsel.

Suguru takes it, because what else is he going to do after Satoru paid for this and then he’s being led away to a table that is covered entirely with the baked goods they offer in the shop.

“Who is going to eat all of that?” Suguru asks as he slides into the booth and Satoru grins at him.

“You. Well, us really, but you haven’t eaten today, right? So most of it goes to you.”

“How do you know that?” Suguru asks and Satoru’s grin softens.

“You were too busy preparing everything to stop and eat, right?” he asks and Suguru flushes with how accurate it is. “So eat up.”

“Thank you,” Suguru mumbles and picks one of the cones. “But you—really shouldn’t have spent that much money.”

“I really should have,” Satoru says and glares at Mahito, who is still standing in the middle of the shop, glaring at Satoru in return. “No way in hell was he going to get that hour with you.”

“That’s—nice, but it’s not really a long-term solution,” Suguru mutters, before he bites into the cone. “He’ll only be worse after this,” he adds once he swallowed and Satoru turns back around to him.

“No, he won’t,” he says as if he knows something Suguru doesn’t and Suguru slowly lowers the cone.

“What did you do?” he carefully asks and the grin he receives now is sharp and dangerous.

“I have some connections,” he cryptically says and Suguru stares at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” A horrifying thought occurs to Suguru. “Are you with the mafia?”

Satoru bursts into laughter at that and Suguru feels that is entirely unfounded. It’s a valid thing to ask after someone said such a line after all.

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” Satoru asks him once he calmed down, still way too amused for Suguru’s liking but the flush that is now on his face suits him wonderfully Suguru thinks.

“Should I?”

He’s Satoru. There’s hardly more Suguru needs to know.

“My family name is Gojo,” he says and Suguru almost drops the cone. “I’m the heir to the Gojo Group.”

“Holy fuck,” Suguru whispers out because everyone knows the Gojo Group.

“So you really didn’t know,” Satoru says, and he sounds pleased.

Him being the heir to such a family would explain how he can spend that much money on Suguru, but it still doesn’t explain his comment about Mahito.

“What did you do to Mahito?” he asks and Satoru’s eyes flicker back to the man in question.

“Turns out he’s wanted in several other countries. You really do not keep good company, Suguru.”

“It’s not company I choose,” he gruffly gives back, because he moved here to get away from him. “So he’s going to be arrested?”

“Hopefully today,” Satoru agrees and then turns a blinding smile at Suguru. “And until then, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Satoru, you really shouldn’t have spent that much money on me,” Suguru says again though he can’t deny that he’s flattered.

“How else was I going to stick it to him and get a date with you?” Satoru easily asks and Suguru chokes on his cone.

Satoru wordlessly pushes Suguru’s coffee closer to him, and Suguru takes a few desperate sips of it.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he finally wheezes out and Satoru seems almost affronted.

“Well, my flirting didn’t seem to work that well, so I had to resort to this,” he says with a shrug and Suguru is glad that this time he didn’t have anything in his mouth.

“Flirting?”

“Come on, Suguru, you think I spent half an hour talking to the others? I only ever come in during your shifts anyway.”

Suguru wants to say that he didn’t know that, but he stops himself. He did know the days Satoru comes in, he just refused to make that connection in fear of what he’d read into that.

“You’re kind of famous,” is what he says to that and Satoru taps his finger on the table.

“I kind of don’t care,” he replies, clearly impatient and when Suguru doesn’t say something to that—still too busy processing everything he learned in the last five minutes—Satoru leans back with a sigh.

“Look, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, just think about this as me helping the shop out, alright? You’ll spend this hour eating and when this is over, I won’t come by again. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“No!” Suguru blurts out and reaches out to take Satoru’s hand in his, fearing he’ll get up and leave right this second. “Just give me a moment to wrap my head around this,” he pleads and Satoru slumps in his seat.

“Fine,” he mutters but he doesn’t hesitate to close his fingers around Suguru’s.

It’s a lot to take in, Suguru can’t deny that, but the most important part right now is that he doesn’t let Satoru leave. Well, actually, the most important part is that he gives Satoru an answer.

“You could have just asked, you know,” Suguru softly says, moving his hand to thread their fingers together.

“You don’t ask people who work in the service industry out for a date while they are on their job,” Satoru gives back. “That’s just rude and puts you in a bad spot.”

It’s incredibly considerate of him and Suguru can feel himself soften.

“So you tried to flirt.”

“Hey, my flirting is great!”

“Except for the part where I didn’t even pick up on it,” Suguru shoots back and Satoru narrows his eyes at him.

“Well, maybe that’s a problem with you,” he considers and Suguru laughs.

“I’m technically not on the clock now. You gonna ask, or what?” he then challenges Satoru, who immediately straightens up in his seat.

“Suguru, I really like you. Would you go on a date with me?”

“You mean other than this?” Suguru can’t help but to tease and he fights the urge to kiss the stupid pout off Satoru’s face.

“You’re so mean to me,” Satoru whines and Suguru gently squeezes his hand.

“Did you miss the part where this is already a date?” he asks him and watches how Satoru’s face lights up.

“You could have just said yes,” he still complaints and Suguru laughs.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he shoots back and he can’t deny that there is something incredibly comforting about this banter.

“I’m going to take you out on at least two more dates, for the emotional stress you caused me,” Satoru mutters under his breath and Suguru lifts their still clasped hands to his lips, so he can press a kiss to Satoru’s knuckles.

“Deal,” he breathes out and enjoys the dumbfounded look on Satoru’s face, which quickly gets replaced by a vibrant blush.

“You can’t just do that!”

“Watch me,” Suguru shrugs and gets back to his cone, pretending to be entirely unfazed, even though his heart is beating away incredibly fast in his chest.

“Oh, I am,” he hears Satoru say and he refuses to acknowledge his own blush at that, though going by the way Satoru snickers, he definitely notices it.

They spend their time bantering like that, keeping their fingers threaded together and neither of them notices when the hour passes, both secure in the knowledge that they don’t have to keep track of that.

There will be many more hours ahead of them, after all.

[btschooseafic]

Scared of Love (in a coffee shop)

Pairing: ot7, ot6 x jungkook

Details: jungkook centric, a/b/o dynamics, coffee shop au, soulmates au

Summary: Jungkook is struggling to make enough money to pay his rent and send extra to help with brother raise his niece. In this situation, many people would wish for a rich Fated Mate to solve all their problems. Jungkook knows better than that. The idea of Fated Mates makes Jungkook nervous. So what happens when he meets them at his new job?

Warnings: implied mpreg (not jk), attempted assault

***

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

[lilprincegoo]

Cuffed by chahans

yoongi/jungkook

Fake/Pretend Relationship, Misunderstandings, Pining, Slow Burn, Light Angst, Writer!Yoongi, Fluff, college student having an existential crisis!jungkook, Crack, Flirting, Sharing a Bed, Drunken Kissing, basically every cliche fic trope known to man, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, it's not a coffee shop it's a smoothie shop cuz healthy decisions yknow, Friends to Lovers

44.4k words

rating: M

Cuffed (adj)- 1)To be in a relationship. Often associated with ‘Cuffing Season.’ 2)To be physically handcuffed. (Redirect: Kinks, BDSM) In which Yoongi’s looking to (read: is forced to) get cuffed, and as fate would have it, so is the man of his dreams. Too bad the man of his dreams doesn’t do romance, though.

[stacywaters]

Coffee and Violets (SUGA) CH8 - Soft Rain

(WARNING: Some angst stay positive y'all :])

(Your POV)

You stumbled out of bed, alarm blaring. A fuzzy light filtered through the blinds and into your messy apartment. After the last few days, normally you would've stayed home again. But the cafe was already closed yesterday while you were out with Yeongsun, and you can't keep it closed for much longer. 

You figured it'd be good, get your mind off things. So you had breakfast, got dressed, and walked to the cafe. 

The morning air was cold, morning dew fresh and your footsteps echoing through the empty streets. You sighed as you opened the door to the cafe. The flower shop next door wasn't open yet, and most people weren't out. The day had barely even started, but when you have to make everyone else's coffee you have to be up before them.

Because when you're busy saving everyone else, who is left to save you?

You drank your coffee black and bitter this morning. It seems silly, being so heartbroken from something that hardly even started. Maybe what you missed was just the excitement of something new and different. But old is okay. The usual is comfortable. The very reason you've stopped reaching out and messaging friends and meeting new people. Someone has to forget to respond first. Someone has to care less. Someone has to move on. And it's never you.

The glass panes reflect the empty cafe, but your imagination finds something else in them. The image of Yoongi and Minsoo together. Laughing together, being together. Why is it that you've never been on a date? Why has no one asked you? Maybe everyone else is just busy. Maybe there was an odd number of soulmates and you were left. Maybe plans don't always go according to plan and you just have to be happy for everyone else who is.

Ring! Ring!

You look up at the bell that just rang as someone walks into the cafe.

(Yoongi POV)

Hoseok barges into my room at 5:30.

"C'mon... It's too early..."

"No, Yoongi! You don't get to do this. You don't get to give up all hope and hide away from everyone. I'm not letting you go there again"

I sigh, "She loves someone else, Hoba. You saw them together. She's just a nice person who was kind to me once  and I'm the fool to try and build something on such a small act"

"Then fall in love with someone else! At least get out of bed. Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to make you feel any better, huh?"

As Hoseok leaves, I shrug the covers off and drag myself out of bed. He's right, and the shop needs us. I can't drop everything just because of a girl. Though I'd do it for her.

We arrive at the shop a while later. I start to set things up for the day.

"I'm gonna go grab us some coffee, 'kay?" Hoseok said.

I nodded in response, watching as he walks out the door and into the cafe. Her cafe. 

Memories flash back of her and him,.. what was his name, Yeongsun? She seemed so shy with him, like he made her nervous. Was it because she liked him so much? Why can't she like me that much? Maybe it's because I do stuff like this. Dwell over those I hardly knew. She might as well be an angel, there's no way a girl like her would fall for someone like me. She deserves better.

"Good news!" Hoseok yells as he runs back into the cafe.

(Your POV)

You look up at the bell that just rang as someone walks into the cafe.

"Hi Y/N!" Hoseok calls as he walks over to the counter.

You start preparing his usual, "Hey"

"So... how'd the date go yesterday?" He asks.

You groan, "Ugh.. terrible. It- Here's the thing, it wasn't even supposed to be a date!"

"What?" He asks, leaning forward. You guys had your fair share of gossip, so this was nothing new. 

"Yeah! We used to be neighbors, so he just came to drop something off from my mom. He suggested we go out and have lunch together, so I agreed. Then he was like, flirting the whole time?"

"No..."

"Yes. And it was only supposed to be lunch, but he was dragging me around to all these other places and would keep telling people we're dating"

"Gee, I'm sorry Y/N! That's awful. What did you end up doing?"

"I told him he was too much, he insulted me a bit, I walked away and cried at my apartment" You chuckled bitterly, "but it's fine. Gotta keep the shop runnin', am I right?"

He nods, "Yeah, that's what I had to tell Yoongi this morning"

You focus in at the sound of his name, "Yoongi? What about him?"

"Oh, he..." Hoseok fumbles.

"He was here a few days back with Minsoo... did they fight and break up or something?"

"No, they weren't actually dating either," He assures, "He's never been good friends with Minsoo, it's just that she's so persistant, y'know?"

"Ah..." You mumble, deep in thought.

"I think you might want to see Yoongi, I feel like there was some confusion?" He questions.

"y-yeah! Do you know if he's free later?"

"Oh, he's free right now"

(Yoongi POV)

"Good news!" Hoseok yells as he runs into the cafe.

"What?"

"She can tell you herself!" He says as Y/N shyly walks in behind him, two coffees in her hands.

She hands me one, "Can uh, can we um.."

"Let's go in the back" I suggest.

She follows behind. We sit next to each other, avoiding eye contact.

"So," She starts, "You aren't dating Minsoo?"

"NO! No, god no. She is.."

"Yeah, that's probably for the best" She laughs. I smile at her.

"But uh, you were with-"

"No, I'm not with Yeongsun. That was a mistake"

"Oh" I look down, trying to hide my grin, "w-what happened? If you don't mind me asking,"

She sighs, "He's just a neighbor, it wasn't even supposed to be a date. He just suggested it as lunch, since I thought we were friends" 

She told the rest of the story as we drank our drinks.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. That sounds really upsetting"

"Yeah, I just-" She pauses to look at the rain that started pouring out the window, "I don't know why relationships have to be so hard. I feel like..."

"like you distance yourself from people, and the second you meet someone new you become attached?" I finish before I can even think about the truth I was spilling.

She looks at me, a faint smile growing on her face, "yeah"

"I know how that feels"

We stay quiet for a few seconds. Or minutes. Or however long. We drank our coffee, looking out the window at the stormy day outside.

"listen, Yoongi, I-" She stops to look down at her watch, "Shoot! I gotta go! The cafe opens in just a few minutes!" She quickly grabs her coat and begins rushing out of the room.

"Wait-" I call out. She turns around, "Uh, I..." Is now really the time to tell her how I feel? Just because she doesn't love him doesn't mean she likes me. I don't want to get the signals wrong again, "Let me walk you back"

"Yoongi, I'm just going next door"

I smile at her saying my name, "Well, yeah. But it's raining"

Next Chapter?