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baepsaets · 5 years

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suga baby ~ min yoongi

pairing: min yoongi x reader

rating: sfw (future smut)

word count: 6.4k

summary: you’re a bartender at a seedy downtown dive. after a close call, your favorite customer yoongi takes it upon himself to make sure you have everything you could ever need.

a/n: hello, i have major writer’s block with eight’s a crowd and it manifested into this beast, i’m so sorry lmao. once again, thank you everyone for your sweet messages! i don’t get a chance to post them on my blog, but i always read them and they make me smile. thanksgiving break for me starts at the end of the week, so i hope to use that free time to catch up on my writing. please enjoy!

part 01 02 03

Min Yoongi sat down at your bar sometime between eleven o’clock and eleven-thirty. It was a busier Thursday night than usual, so by the time you finally made it down to his regular seat, there was already a light sheen of sweat covering your skin.

He eyed you from underneath his fringe. “You look tired.”

You snorted, already pouring him his regular drink—whiskey sour with a dash of grenadine. “I feel more tired than I look.”

“I know the feeling,” he replied, tipping his freshly-made drink toward you. “Happy end of the week.”

“It’s not the end of the week,” you told him, voice sourer than the drink in his hand, “if you work the weekend, Mr. Min.”

You tapped the bar next to his slim-fingered hand in annoyance, and his mouth quirked into a half-smile.

You had met Yoongi almost half a year ago, when he’d wandered into your shabby bar half-past midnight on a Wednesday night. The bar had been deserted, and he’d looked like a gemstone in a pile of gravel—Armani suit tailored to fit his slender frame, golden watch ticking ostentatiously on his wrist. He’d sat down at the end of the bar, furthest seat from the door, and had given you a short but dismissive look. “Can you make a good drink?”

With your lips pressed tight together, you’d nodded your head. You made a hell of a drink, which was the only reason you were a bartender. You were the first to admit that you lacked all other qualities that seemed required for the job—you weren’t particularly pretty, hated small-talk, and had a terrible case of resting bitch face. What you lacked in charisma, you made up for with a mean cosmopolitan.

“I don’t know,” you’d told him, flatly. “Can you leave a good tip?”

He’d raised an eyebrow, amused by the venom in your tone. “I’ll make you a deal—make me the best mojito I’ve ever had, and I’ll leave you the best tip you’ll ever get.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were intrigued by his offer. What was it like, having enough money to waste bartering with the bartender? You’d turned your back to grab a glass. Sugar, mint—he looked like someone who preferred it sour, so you added extra lime as you topped the drink off with white rum. You’d slid him the drink and pretended to immerse yourself with cleaning the countertop as he’d taken his first sip, watching him from the corner of your eye.

He had shrugged, trailing his finger around the rim of his glass. You’d tried not to sigh in annoyance. Whatever, whatever. You didn’t care if some pretentious, upper-class asshole didn’t like your drink. Plenty of other people did.

Min Yoongi had left half an hour later, and under his empty glass was a crisp, one-hundred-dollar bill.

Since then, you’d been stuck with the man, who was surprisingly good company.

“Busy night,” he commented, holding his drink up to the light, observing the way the grenadine turned the dark alcohol auburn.

“You’re telling me,” you replied, absent-mindedly. You eyed the rest of the bar, checking to see if anyone was gesturing for your attention. Your gaze snagged on a group of men near the door. They were typical—loud, obnoxious. A bundle of unease started to unwind in your stomach. With your manager in the back, you were the only person working the floor. If something happened, if a fight broke out, or if one of them made a move, you’d be completely on your own.

“Has there been a problem?” Yoongi asked. You glanced back toward him and realized he’d followed your gaze, also staring at the rowdy group.

“No,” you assured him. “It’s just been busy.”

It made a tingle shoot through your chest, thinking that he cared.

You were probably something insignificant in his life, compared to whatever rich people usually cared about—the stock market, or fashion, or something. Yoongi woke up every morning wondering what his hired staff was making him for breakfast, while you wondered if you could afford an overpriced coffee to get you through your sixteen-hour workday.

Yoongi sat down his drink. “Can I ask you a quick question?”

“It’s not like I have a choice. I don’t get off until three.”

You grabbed an already clean glass and started cleaning it just to look occupied, any excuse to loiter in front of his seat. Your favoritism was blatant to people who frequented the bar, but to the outside eye, it just looked like you were making small-talk with a random customer while you worked.

“Ha, ha,” he deadpanned, amused. “Do you remember me talking about my client last week?”

You nodded your head, interest piquing. You loved it when Yoongi talked about his job.

He was some type of music tycoon and owned a production company on a side of the city too expensive for you to frequent. He told you a lot about his job, mainly because he liked to complain about it. Most people who came into the bar to complain got too personal and didn’t care about what you had to say. My wife left me. I’ll never be a good father. Yoongi came into the bar and said, Fuck Ji-sung from the sounding department and fuck our capitalistic regime, before asking for extra whiskey.

And then afterward, staring into his drink, slightly drained but more relaxed than before, Yoongi asked for your opinion. Which he seemed to value, for some reason. You had a suspicion he was in such a position of power at his job, most people only told him what he wanted to hear. That wasn’t your style. You may have been reserved, but you were honest. Maybe your opinion wasn’t the most educated one, but it was unbiased and more genuine than any other he had the opportunity to hear.

“The one who wasn’t rude until you started working on his second album?” you asked. “Makes your staff sort his candy by color?”

“Yes,” Yoongi hissed, thoroughly annoyed. “God, what a prick. Don’t get into the music industry. If I had a dollar for every goddamn time—,” and then he went on a nameless tangent, about respecting people who only made minimum wage and having common decency.

You liked seeing Yoongi like this. When you had first met him, he’d been so quiet. You could tell he was used to being quiet—not shy, just reserved. Like you. He had a tendency to word-dump, saying everything he needed to say in one breathless paragraph simply because he wasn’t used to talking very much in the first place.

“—but anyway, anyway, I just wanted to ask how you knew your advice would work.”

You stopped cleaning your glass and stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You told me to give him more creative control over his next album and he started treating the staff better. Usually I do the opposite—treat my staff badly, and I fire you. But I didn’t want to lose this artist. Your advice worked. How did you know?”

You set the glass down and continued to stare, mouth slightly agape. You probably looked like an overworked fish wearing an apron. “You actually listened to my advice?”

He stared back, quizzically. “Of course. It was good advice. A little unorthodox, I’ll admit, but I needed a new approach.” His gaze sharped, turned a little darker, a little more intense. “I don’t usually reward bad behavior.”

You flushed a bit at his possible double-innuendo. Sometimes, it was like that with Yoongi. He’d say something teasingly, something that hinted at the idea of more. It was flattering, but you recognized it for what it really was—nothing serious, just harmless flirting. Everyone tried it at least once during your shift. They were drunk, and you were an easy target, especially once they were infected with liquid courage.

As if someone as handsome, rich, and successful as Yoongi would ever be interested in you.

“But I’m your bartender,” you gasped, surprised he couldn’t see the incredulousness of it. Yoongi was a millionaire. He paid people to give him advice. Highly trained people, who had some type of nonsense business degree that made them qualified to give him advice. You were a lowlife living paycheck to paycheck with a dead-end job and no foreseeable future, and he’d taken your advice over the advice of his hired staff.

And your advice had been better.

“That doesn’t matter to me,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal. “It’s the person on the outside that can see the bigger picture. I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t value your opinion.”

Hearing him say that made your skin tingle and flush. Yoongi seemed so effortlessly smart, effortlessly cultured, effortlessly eloquent. And he valued your opinion. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed. “But I had a gut feeling you were right. How did you know?”

Still caught off-guard, you slowly grabbed another glass to clean, finding comfort in the repetitive motion. “Well, you told me he only started acting out during this album. People who feel like they don’t have control over certain aspects of their lives tend to overexert control in others. I thought that because he felt like he didn’t have proper creative control over his album, maybe his frustration was manifesting as micromanaging your staff.”

Yoongi groaned, “Why couldn’t he just tell me that? I would have given him all the control he wanted.”

You shrugged, suppressing a laugh. “He was probably scared. You’re pretty intimidating.”

“Am I?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“Are you joking?” you asked. “With your scowl? Cacti are more approachable than you.”

He considered you for a moment, mouth flattening slightly. “Do I intimidate you?”

“No,” you scoffed. “I’m not easy to intimidate.” His mouth quirked again, and he looked like he was about to say something else, until—

“Hey, lady!” a man yelled from the other end of the bar. You turned and saw it was a member of the rowdy group by the door. “Can we get some service down here, too?”

Every ounce of friendliness dropped from Yoongi’s expression as he glared at them, but you only set down your glass with a sigh. “I’ll get you a refill in a second, be right back.”

You made your way down to the other end of the bar, conscious of the way the other man leered at you. Sometimes, you really, really didn’t like your job. You were in it for the money, and not even a great customer like Yoongi could make the job seem worth it on a bad night.

“What can I get you tonight?” you asked.

“Another beer,” he said, sliding his empty bottle across the counter. It tipped over the edge of the bar and shattered at your feet before you could scramble and catch it.

“Ow, shit,” you cursed. You stepped back, broken glass crunching under your feet. A shard of glass had cut the delicate, exposed skin of your left ankle between your shoe and the rolled cuff of your jeans.

“Today, please,” the man snapped, annoyed by your lack of promptness. You grabbed him an identical beer from the shelf behind you and set it on the counter. He snatched it up before you could even open it for him.

“That’ll be $1.93,” you said, eyeing the cut on your ankle. It was just deep enough to bleed, blood dripping down to stain the white of your sock. You would have to clean up the glass later.

“Excuse me? It was only $1.12 when I paid an hour ago.”

You wanted to throw your head back and groan. You’d given him that beer an hour ago, and it was the same price then as it was now. He was just trying to barter.

If it were any other customer, you would have let it slide. But you knew people like the man in front of you—give them an inch, and they would take a mile. If you didn’t set him straight now, he’d only try to push you further in the future.

“It was $1.93,” you told him flatly. “I know that because you didn’t tip and requested your change. It was a nickel and two pennies.”

“Are you saying I’m lying?”

“I’m saying that maybe you’re not remembering correctly,” you amended. “And even if it was $1.12 then, it’s $1.93 now. Either pay or give me the beer back.”

“Fine, bitch,” he snapped. The man threw the bottle onto the counter at an angle, hitting the edge of the bar closest to you and shattering. Your front was instantly soaked through as the beer splashed everywhere. Vaguely, you heard the group of men behind him cheering.

Anger and embarrassment flooded your chest. You were keenly aware of Yoongi at the other end of the bar, probably watching the whole exchange.

You didn’t want him to see you this way. It was just another reminder of how painfully, painfully below his league you were.

“You still have to pay for that,” you snapped. “Pay up and get the hell out before I call the police.”

The man laughed. He leaned forward and shoved you hard into the back shelf, and you yelped as bottles fell on top of and around you, barely missing your head. They shattered at your feet. Your back banged painfully against the wooden edge.

The noise was loud enough to catch the attention of the whole bar, and hopefully your manager. Before you could gather yourself, the men roared in laughter again, until the man who’d shoved you was dragged roughly away from the bar, and Min Yoongi punched the asshole in the face.

“Yoongi,” you gasped. It was probably the first time you’d ever called him by his first name. He didn’t stop or pause to look at you, only steadied the asshole and punched him again, the ring on his finger cutting across his cheek.

Another man from the group stepped forward and looked ready to intervene, but luckily at that moment, your manager slammed open the door to the backroom, making everyone jump. Your manager was a big man, old and stern, and he asked in his booming voice, “What the hell is going on here?”

Yoongi stepped away and cleaned his hand, wiping bloodied knuckles on the expensive edge of his button-down. You reached forward and grabbed his arm, tempted to drag him over the bar with you. Your manager gasped when he saw the state you were in, recognized your protective hold on Yoongi’s shirt, and immediately turned to the group of men still gathered by the door. They held up their fallen friend, the one Yoongi still looked like he wanted to beat unconscious.

“If you four don’t get out of my bar right fucking now,” your manager said darkly, “I’m calling the police and kicking your ass the whole time until they get here.”

Without a second thought the group of men scrambled out the door, dragging their friend with them. The sudden silence in the bar seemed to echo.

Yoongi turned and gripped the hand you had on his upper arm, and before you could protest, he was hauling you over the countertop like a child, other arm reaching out to hook underneath your leg and draw you next to him.

“Come here,” Yoongi muttered, lowly and almost to himself. Something in his voice sounded borderline frantic. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you squawked, undignified and startled by his sudden manhandling. Yoongi sat you on the nearest barstool as your manager hovered nearby.

He leaned forward until the tip of his fringe almost brushed your forehead. “Look at me. Are you bleeding?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Having Yoongi’s face so close to your own—well, it was hugely distracting. Your manager turned away and helpfully, a fellow patron at the bar filled him in with what they witnessed.

“(Y/N)?” Yoongi asked, and you realized you’d been silent for too long.

“I cut my ankle, but that’s it,” you told him. Yoongi dropped to his knees, the fabric of his expensive suit no doubt getting stained by the sticky bar floor.

You gasped at him to get up, but he ignored you in favor of grabbing your ankle, lifting it to his face. The cut was already dried and scabbed over. You tapped him on the shoulder to grab his attention, except whenever he looked up, with his dark and infuriated gaze, looking at you from such a compromising position—you lost your train of thought again. Jeez, maybe a bottle really did hit you in the head.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, like he could read your mind. He stood up and leaned closer, hand hovering near your face, almost like he wanted to cup your cheek but was keeping himself restrained. “You didn’t hit your head? Should I take you to the hospital?”

“No, no, no,” you immediately said. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“But they assaulted you,” Yoongi seethed, like he was stuck on it, like the thought had just been boiling in the back of his mind since his very first punch.

“It’s part of the job,” you replied, and he stared at you, dark and guileless. He seemed to scoot even closer, until his hips were between your open legs, and his hand was resting on your elbow.

“You don’t have to stand so close to me,” you whispered. “I probably smell like a college frat party right now.”

Yoongi grimaced but didn’t comment, which you were grateful for.

“I’m going to review the security footage and ban those men from the bar,” your manager declared, walking up next to you. “We can call the police right now if you want to press—,”

“That’s not necessary,” you interrupted, and Yoongi’s grip on your elbow tightened. “Really, can I just go home early? I want to shower.”

Your shift didn’t technically end until three in the morning, when the bar closed, but your manager’s gaze softened at your simple request. “I’ll take the rest of your shift and clock you out when I leave. You don’t work tomorrow, do you?”

You grimaced. “I have another seven to three.”

“I’ll ask Cindy to cover it. Take tomorrow off.”

Despite hating your job, your manager really was a life-saver. You thanked him profusely, and once you were done, Yoongi said, “Get your stuff from the back. I’ll walk you to your car.”

Your chest tightened. Yoongi was usually gone by the time you got off, and probably didn’t know you walked to work. It was only a ten minute walk, and while it wasn’t a pleasant one to make at three in the morning, you had a knife and a can of mace in your purse for emergencies.

“You don’t have to do that, Mr. Min,” you told him. “Stay and finish your drink.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Go get your jacket. I’ll wait here.”

In the backroom, you tried to make yourself presentable. Your black shirt was soaked and smelled heavily of beer, which made you wince. You didn’t even like beer. You fixed your hair as best as you could and wiped your face with a paper towel. Grabbing your jacket, you put it on and made your way back to the front.

Yoongi was crouched on the floor with your manager, helping him clean up the broken glass. They were locked in a low conversation that you interrupted.

“Do you want me to help?” you asked, but Yoongi held up his hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” your manager said. “Get home safe, okay?”

You agreed and Yoongi stood, wiping off his hands. He grabbed his own jacket and his scarf, leading you outside with the palm of his hand hovering lightly over your lower back. It struck you as something so gentlemanly, your traitorous heart fluttered. It was bitter cold outside, and your thread-bare jacket did little to protect you. You hoped Yoongi didn’t notice.

Most of the vehicles in the lot looked second-hand, except the one at the end; it was compact, and oily black. It looked like it cost more than your yearly salary.

“The Maserati’s mine,” he commented, breath fanning in front of his face. You didn’t know what a Maserati looked like, but you could tell the slick car at the end of the lot must have been his. It was the most expensive-looking one.

“Black,” you noted. “Like your soul.”

He laughed, and thankfully, the tension in the air dissipated. Yoongi toed at the concrete, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak.

“So,” you started, “I don’t actually have a car.”

He stared at you blankly, which meant you had caught him off-guard. “Pardon?”

You wanted to snort. Pardon. Posh as fuck. “I don’t have a car.”

“How do you get to work?”

“I usually walk.”

Yoongi’s mouth opened before he snapped it shut, scowling. He opened it again. Closed it. Ran a tense hand through his hair. “Are you joking?”

“I wish,” you snorted, but had to suppress a flinch at the sudden harshness in his voice.

“Is your safety a joke to you?” he asked, suddenly, furiously. “First the guy in the bar, then you wouldn't let me take you to the hospital. And now this? Do you know how dangerous it is to walk home in this neighborhood during the day? Let alone at night?”

“I live here,” you snapped. “You don’t have to remind me.”

“What’s your address?” he asked. “I’ll drive you home.”

The idea filled you with dread. He seemed so suave and sophisticated. When he listened to you, he made you feel important. Everything that had happened tonight hammered nail after nail in the coffin of your fantasy, whispering to Yoongi in the dim light of the bar until the early morning. The fantasy where you were more than yourself and the life you lived. Having Yoongi drive you back to your shitty apartment in his fancy Maserati would be the final blow.

“No,” you replied.

He raised his eyebrow. “Why not?”

Because I don’t want you to see my shitty apartment. “It’s not necessary.”

“It’s midnight,” he said. “It’s dark. It’s cold. I’m not going to let you walk home by yourself.”

“I’ve been walking home by myself just fine for the past year.”

“(Y/N),” he begged. “Please get in my car.”

You bit your lip in indecision. It wasn’t like he was going to go inside, and it was freezing; you really didn’t want to walk home when it wasn’t necessary.

“Okay,” you agreed. “As long as you don’t mind.”

Yoongi started leading you to his car until he paused, glancing back at you from over his shoulder.

“One second,” he said, stopping in front of you. He unwound his scarf from his neck and took a step closer.

Yoongi wrapped his scarf around your neck, stopping to tuck your hair underneath your jacket. He was standing too close, and you were glad your face was already red because you knew you were blushing. You took a deep breath and were delighted to realize the scarf smelled like him.

“There,” he murmured, pleased. “You looked cold.”

“Well, it’s cold out,” you commented, and he flicked your forehead. You gasped in mock-outrage.

“It’s unlocked,” he said, walking forward and leaving you to trail behind him.

The interior of Yoongi’s car was black leather and just sitting in the front seat felt sinful. You were afraid to shift, painfully aware of the fact that you were wet and cold and soaked in alcohol like a maraschino cherry.

“It’ll take a second for the heat to kick in,” he said. “Where do you live?”

You described to him the short drive, teeth nervously chattering. When Yoongi started the car, it almost seemed to purr. He must have had a CD in, because the radio started playing light classical music.

You eyed him teasingly. “Fancy. Do you have any Tchaikovsky?”

His head snapped toward you. “You know classical music?”

“I know Swan Lake, and that’s about it,” you admitted, laughing ruefully. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“It’s not a disappointment,” he replied. “Do you like it?”

The car felt warm, like you were enclosed in a bubble. Everything smelled like leather and Yoongi enough to drown out the stench of beer and vodka. The gentle sound of a piano filled the car, and you smiled.

“Yeah, I like it.”

You directed him downtown, tensing when you realized what the neighborhood must look like to him. Dark, and dirty, and covered in grime. Messy and trashy. The further he drove, the more his face creased in disgust. You felt embarrassed and defensive, because although you had no love for the neighborhood, it was still the place you had to call home. Judging it felt like judging you, too.

When Yoongi pulled in front of your building, he could do nothing but stare at it. It was short, square, faded and cracking at the edges. There was an upturned trashcan out front next to a dark lump that could have been garbage, could have been a sleeping homeless person. The yellow streetlight outside flickered.

“Thank you for the ride,” you whispered. “I’ll see you—,”

“Let me walk you inside,” he interrupted, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I want to make sure you get in safe.”

“It’s really fine,” you tried to say, but he was already turning off the car and stepping out. You quickly got out of the passenger seat.

“What floor are you on?” he asked.

“The fifth one.” Yoongi bypassed you entirely, and you had to jog to catch up with him as he walked inside, eyeing the suspicious lump on the side of the street.

He went to open the door but it stuck, metal creaking ominously. You reached out and grabbed the other handle. “You have to use the left door.”

He nodded, and the two of you went inside.

You’d never been more critical of your building than in that moment. You could see every flaw: the peeling wallpaper, the dingy furniture, the dirty floor, the water-stained ceiling. And you knew Yoongi saw it, too.

“We can’t take the elevator,” you told him. “It doesn’t work.”

The two of you climbed the stairwell, shivering slightly. He commented, “It’s cold.”

“There’s no heat,” you admitted, and somehow, the carefully neutral look on his face was even worse than an openly judgmental one.

You made it to the fifth floor just in time to hear your neighbor shouting through his thin wall, “Whatever, asshole!”

It was followed by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass. You walked past your neighbor's door like you’d heard nothing, although Yoongi seemed startled. You were walking quicker than he was, like you were trying to leave him behind. Why couldn’t he get the message that you didn’t want him here?

You grabbed your keys from your pocket and jingled them, halting in front of your apartment. Yoongi stopped next to you, still eyeing the dirty hallway. There were several unpatched holes in the drywall from where your neighbor had punched the wall after arguing with his girlfriend.

Yoongi broke the silence by saying, “So, this is your apartment?”

“It’s a real five-star hotel, huh,” you said, sarcastically. You unlocked your door and turned your knob, but kept the door shut tight. You didn’t want him to see inside. “Watch out for cockroaches.”

Yoongi’s lip curled in disgust, and he started eyeing the floor. Your chest quivered and started breaking into pieces, because you were laid bare. You were (Y/N), in your shitty apartment, getting home from your shitty job, where you would probably be stuck for the rest of your life.

“It’s, uh,” he said. “Nice.”

Ridiculously, you suddenly felt like you wanted to cry. “Thank you for walking me inside. I’ll see you later.”

“(Y/N),” he went to say, but you were already shutting the door in his face, pressing your forehead against the cheap and cracking wood. A dull ache was starting in your shoulder where a vodka bottle had fallen, but it had nothing on the serious ache building in your chest.

~~~

Almost a full week passed before you saw Yoongi again.

Usually, he came in every Monday night. He liked the bar best when it was quiet, when it wasn’t crowded, when he could monopolize your attention for longer and longer periods of time. Monday night came and Monday night went, and it dragged on relentless as you waited for him, telling yourself you weren’t waiting for him.

You locked the door that night with crushing disappointment.

The fight had probably scared him off. Obviously, he regretted stepping in to defend you. What would have happened if he’d gotten seriously hurt? Sued? His good name, ran through the mud by the media?

Tycoon Min Yoongi Arrested After Late-night Barfight.

The mere idea made you shudder.

You carried your disappointment into Tuesday, but by Wednesday, you didn’t even bat an eye whenever the bell at the entrance to the bar rang. You were wiping down the countertop at ten o’clock at night when Yoongi sauntered in, nose red from the cold, hair wet and mouth pouting with it.

Like usual, the bar was quiet. Two old men sat in the middle of the counter and preoccupied themselves with watching the shitty television mounted behind the bar.

Your breath caught in your throat. Yoongi had a bad habit of always looking like a supermodel, no matter what condition he was in.

Nerves tied your tongue. You wanted to ask him where he’d been, but didn’t want to seem like you cared. For a moment, you weren’t sure how to act around him, but you decided to just play it casual.

“Is it cold?” you asked, dumbly. Of course it was cold. It was the middle of fucking winter.

“It’s snowing,” he said, sitting in his usual seat, setting his jacket on the counter. You started making him his drink just to avoid looking at him. “I’m driving you home.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Yoongi shot you such a sudden glare, your teeth clicked together when you shut it.

“Thank you,” you said, sliding him his drink. He tipped it back and downed it, and you stared mesmerized at the bobbing of his throat as he swallowed.

He set the glass back down and hissed, and you refilled his drink in silence. Yoongi kept his eyes trained on the countertop.

The atmosphere between the two of you felt tense and awkward, and it only got worse the longer the silence stretched.

Maybe it was finally time. Maybe Yoongi was going to say your bar was too seedy for people like him to visit. People like Min Yoongi deserved better than the half-ass booze you could supply, the half-ass décor, your half-ass service. Not even a good drink could make up for it.

You and Min Yoongi were from two different classes. It didn’t matter how special he made you feel. At the end of the day, anything between the two of you, even just friendship, wasn’t meant to be.

“I want you to quit,” he said.

You slid him his drink with a short laugh. You liked the way Yoongi spoke—short, blunt and honest. It mixed so well with his sense of humor, it was hard to tell the difference between the two. “You and me both, buddy.”

What had happened last Thursday had shaken you up much more than you were willing to admit. Controversy was part of the job—there was a constant risk that some belligerent drunk was going to push you too far. But it had never gotten that bad before, and you cringed to think about what might have happened had Yoongi not been there.

“Yeah,” he replied. “But I’m being serious. I’ll give you $10,000 to quit right now.”

He reached into his suit pocket and set something on the countertop. You were distracted by his oddly stern gaze when you realized his hand was sliding you a check, and it was filled out to you, and when did you tell him your last name? His handwriting was neat and controlled and he was sliding you a check with your full name on it for ten-thousand-fucking-dollars—

You gasped and slapped your hand over it. “Put that away before we get mobbed by every patron in this bar.”

“Put it away in your pocket,” he said. “Do you want to grab dinner with me?”

To your utter shock, Yoongi took your hand and started leading you down the bar, toward your manager’s office. A few people eyed you, making you blush. You snatched your hand away, and he stared at it forlornly.

“What are you talking about?” you asked him.

“I’m giving you $10,000 to quit your job,” he replied. “And then I’m going to pay for your living expenses while you find a new one.”

You stared at him. It seemed like, for the first time in your life, you were struck speechless. You’d have to make a mark on your calendar. “What the fuck.”

“I’m sorry for how I reacted last week, at your apartment,” he said, suddenly. He took a deep breath to steady himself and winced. “I was an idiot and I didn’t expect it. I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t expect what?” you asked. “For me to live in a dump? For me to be dirt poor? Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

He winced again. “I want to apologize anyway. Take this check and talk to your manager. I want to warm up the car before we leave.”

He seemed so confident that you would agree. You felt the embarrassment and frustration from the last week bubble up in your chest. You grabbed a rag from behind the counter and started cleaning the bar, just for an excuse not to look at him.

“I am not a charity case, Mr. Min,” you hissed. He looked up, shocked at the venom in your voice, before his face creased.

“That’s not what this is. Don’t purposefully misinterpret me,” he ran a tense hand through his hair, and you had never seen him so undone. Pride mixed with heat in your stomach, to see him like that—to know that you were the one who finally put such a fine-edged crack in his golden composure.

“(Y/N),” he said. “If I hadn’t been here last Thursday, what would have happened?”

“Nothing I couldn’t have handled on my own,” you bluffed, but it was a lie. Maybe your manager could have gotten there in time. Maybe some other kind patron would have tried to intervene on your behalf. But the result was the same—nothing about either situation guaranteed your safety.

“Please, quit this job,” he repeated, quieter, more pleading. “Right now. And I’ll pay for everything while you find a new one. Your rent, your water, your electricity. Fuck, do you have Wi-Fi? Do you want Wi-Fi? What’s your phone number? And so help me God, if you tell me you don’t have a cellphone—,”

“I have a fucking cellphone, Yoongi,” you snapped. “Even poor people can have a cellphone.”

He eyed you, unimpressed by your attitude. “And you say I’m the cactus of this relationship.”

“You are,” you defended, until, “and there’s no relationship between us. I’m your bartender, and you’re my customer.”

“Why won’t you let me help you?” he asked. “You’re miserable here.”

“A lot of people are miserable!” you burst out. A few people turned to look at you, but you ignored them. “Life isn’t fair! It’s not always happy, or fun. Sometimes, people have to do a lot of shit they don’t want to do to survive, and that’s life, okay? That’s reality.”

“Maybe that’s the reality for some people, but it doesn’t have to be for you,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with accepting my help, you know that? You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

You were so used to doing everything on your own, you didn’t know how to accept help. You didn’t know how to ask for support.

“A lot of people would be grateful for an opportunity like this,” he continued. “How would they feel watching you turn it down?”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered.

“Someone very smart actually just told me that life isn’t fair. So, sucks,” Yoongi shrugged. On the outside he seemed calm and collected, but you could see the white-knuckled grip he had on the countertop.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Yoongi said. “If you really don’t want my help, I’ll accept that. But I really, really want to help.”

You threw your rag to the side and took a deep breath, and then another. You knew you had a temper, and you knew you were too stubborn for you own good. How would you feel, if someone in your position had an offer from someone like Yoongi, and they’d thrown it back in his face?

“Job hunting is hard,” you muttered, and Yoongi had to lean forward to hear you. “It’ll take at least a month.”

“(Y/N),” he said. “It could take the whole damn year and I wouldn’t care.”

“I should probably turn in my two-week notice.”

“You quit right now,” Yoongi demanded. “Non-negotiable.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you said, to yourself. You weren’t Julia Roberts, and this wasn’t Pretty Woman. What the hell were you thinking?

“We can go over details at dinner,” Yoongi said. “I’ll pay.” He paused, and eyed you sheepishly. “If that’s okay, of course.”

You didn’t like the idea of Yoongi paying for your dinner, but you guessed you would have to get used to it. It was just dinner. It was basically a business meeting.

“I’ll let you pay if we go somewhere cheap,” you bartered. He didn’t look pleased, but accepted the compromise nonetheless.

“Not McDonald’s.”

You laughed. “Not McDonald’s.”

Untying your apron from around your neck, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the upcoming conversation with your manager, but you had a feeling that no amount of deep breathing would help you through what followed afterward.

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dangan-meme-palace · 6 years

Text

Yandere DRV3 Boys

I fucked up the ask but I hope whoever requested this likes it :’)

The girls can be found right here

(Trigger Warnings for the following: Abuse (Emotional and Physical), Kidnapping, Manipulation, Suicide, Self Harm, Eating Disorders, Implied Murder, and Implied Torture)

Rantaro Amami

Probably fell in love with you when you asked him for help with something and thanked him for it by helping him with something he was struggling with

Wants to feel needed 24/7 so he just kinda

Does everything for you

All the time

Whether that means doing your homework, bringing you a lunch, buying you expensive gifts, or just being a shoulder to lean on

God help the people you vent about though

He's basically your personal problem solver so when people are the problem there's only one solution

Doesn't really mind you having friends because they make you happy and that's all he really wants

But again, god help the ones he deems unworthy

Definitely introduces you to his sisters

The amount of attention and devotion he gives to you probably worries his sisters though, and can lead to fights between him and them

They realize he's running himself ragged trying to take care of everything for you but he doesn't see that as a problem

In his mind you're helpless and need his help all the time and since he loves you why wouldn't he try to help :)

Who cares if he's tired, you take priority :))

You have to be careful about trying to get him to take breaks because if he knows what you're doing he'll get huffy

So you have to be like “awww maaaannn I'm super tired, will you cuddle with me for a while?" and hope for the best

Make sure you put in some effort too

He has it in his head that he needs to be doing everything for the both of you so

Make!! Sure!! He!! Rests!!

He'll overwork himself if you don't

He also makes a lot of decisions for you so if Y'all go to a restaurant he's ordering for the both of you

Overall a good boy who I would die for

Kokichi Ouma

Did somebody say mind games?

Probably fell in love with you when you exceeded his predictions multiple times

I imagine he's a lot like Izuru and Junko when it comes to being bored so when you came along his heart just !!!!

Finally, someone who didn't bore him to tears

And that's when things went from bad to worse

Gets really clingy shortly after his obsession starts

Always making excuses to be near you

He just doesn't wanna lose the only person who isn’t absolutely boring, okaaayyy~?

That being said you're not allowed to talk to other people period

He takes it as a personal offense tbh

Wants you to talk to him, pay attention to him and just never look away

Talking to you is something he enjoys immensely btw

Bonus points if you can see through his bullshit

Not gonna lie he's probably gonna threaten you a lot

Don't get him wrong he loves you dearly but

He wants to be the only one you think of

Would kidnap you given the chance

Probably tried to get DICE to kidnap you but since they thought it was a bit much for a “prank" they didn't do it

He screamed and yelled when they didn't

They're terrified of him at this point but that doesn't matter because he has you!!

Have fun being locked in what used to be DICE HQ

He doesn't actually love you btw

It's just flat out obsession

Try your best to keep him entertained with you

If you don't he's gonna be sorely disappointed in you and you're gonna be horribly disfigured by the end of it

After all, what do you do with toys you don't like anymore?

: )

Kiibo

Probably didn't realize he fell in love until waaaaay later

All he knew was that you were really nice to him and caused him to overheat like a motherfucker

Poor Miu honestly

She's probably the one who told him about his feelings but we all know she gave him more questions than answers

Google: what is a smash and why do I want to do it????

Bless him

He just wants to impress you so he researches fucking everything he can about dating

Also if you like the more robotic aspects of him he asks Miu for hella upgrades

Would straight up do anything for you just so you would keep looking at him

Gets jealous a fair amount but he doesn't know what it is or why he feels it so he just acts pouty

That being said he's kinda indifferent towards your friends for the most part but he doesn't think they deserve you

He's done so much for you to keep looking at him and what have they done? Nothing, that's what.

You trying to leave him would be your downfall

Idk why you would but if you did that's when he fuckin snaps

He's tried so hard and you still won't look his way

Nuh-uh

His thinking does a 180 and now he expects you to do everything you can to make it up to him

If you don't he's gonna get real nasty with you

Not above blackmail and threats at this point

He acts like you owe him everything

Why couldn't you just love him for the jetpack??!?

Shuichi Saihara

S t a l k e r

Fell in love when you were consistently nice to him

Probably sees it as some sort of debt that he can never pay back

Like Rantaro he just wants to make you happy but unlike Rantaro he's doing it from the sidelines

Leaves nice notes in your locker, candy in your desk, and anything he can think to do to make you happy

Doesn't care if you know it's him

He just needs to pay you back for being such a kind person

If you find out it's him he's over the moon

Until you say you want him to stop

W hat???? Why????

He's near tears you fucking monster

When you explain it's just because you feel guilty that he's putting in all this effort he reassures you that it's fine

He would do anything for you after all

Now if you're not a cuntlord like me and you don't want him to keep doing this he's heartbroken

Takes it as a flat-out rejection

And that's when the emotional manipulation rears its ugly head

The worst part is he's not trying to manipulate you he's doing this because he feels like he needs to

And by this I mean he's eating and sleeping less and probably started cutting himself as a sick form of punishment for making you mad at him

You were just too kind to do it yourself so he has to do it

When you find out and tell him to stop again he's sobbing

He just doesn't know what you want him to do any more

You need to be real careful around him at that moment

Reject him and he will lose all faith in himself along with any confidence he ever had

Might kill himself not gonna lie

Choose to accept him and he's listening to everything you say like its gospel

If you want something done it gets done no matter what

Just… try not to abuse your power… he'll make himself sick trying to do everything for you

Overall he's a really big emo and I love him a lot; 10/10 would die for this man

Ryoma Hoshi

Another emo piece of shit

He's a lot like Shuichi except he doesn't stalk you

He just kinda stays at your side

Unless you tell him to go away; then he's stalking you

Fell for you for the same reason Shuichi did except you really had to give it your all

He sees you as his new reason to live and thinks that since you saved his life it's only fair that he spends it trying to make you happy

It's the least he can do

As a bonus, he would totally let you make a whole bunch of short jokes and would genuinely laugh at every one of them lmao

If you tell him to stop hanging around you he is crushed

Starts taking risks like no tomorrow

He smokes 2 packs a day and is right back where he started, if not worse, on the suicidal front

Doesn't even try to make it up to you because he doesn't believe he can

You were his second chance and he blew it

Now he's just stuck in this funk until he eventually just dies

He either kicks the bucket from health problems caused by smoking or doing something stupid like walking into traffic

All he wanted was to make you happy

Kaito “luminary of the stars" Momota

Fell for you when you both were talking about space and you managed to out-nerd him

Wholeheartedly believes he deserves you

Why wouldn't he? After all, he's a fucking astronaut

An astronaut

Who wouldn't want a cool guy like him?

Apparently, you, because when he started flirting with him you shut him down immediately.

Well shit

That's okay! He likes them feisty too!

Tries showing off but nothing's working

Okay, now he's pissed.

Great.

He still keeps trying but on the inside, he's starting to doubt himself

Why isn't THE Kaito Momota good enough for you

Truly snaps for the first time when he finds out you have a boyfriend

Why the Fuck would you pick some loser, who's not even an astronaut, over him: Kaito. Mother. Fucking. Momota.

He's done

Kidnaps you and tortures your boyfriend in front of you

He doesn't even care if you love him as long as your his, you can hate him all you want for all he cares

He might even hate you a little bit back tbh

You're nothing more than a trophy to him right now

Can somebody say yikes?

Gonta Gokuhara

Precious

Too good for this

I can totally see him kidnapping you and keeping you in a giant terrarium though

He would probably fall for you after you weren't afraid of him due to his stature. Also, if you say you like bugs (even just one bug like a butterfly or a ladybug)

After he started obsessing over you he also started killing his entire bug collection

Gonta only collects the prettiest of bugs after all

Why would he need all those ugly bugs when he has the prettiest thing he has ever laid eyes on locked away for his eyes only

Might realize it's wrong to keep you locked up but not before you lose hope of ever getting out and break

Actively tries to get you out of your cage now

Doesn't work though because you barely talk and don't move on your own

:’D

Korekiyo “I will rip out your nerves” Shinguji

Let's get this straight: He doesn't love you.

He's obsessed with you, yeah

But he doesn't love you

He wants to observe your beauty and nothing more

Actually won't kidnap you

Hurray!

He just intensively stalks you

Un-hurray!

It's gotten to the point where he can predict you with ease

He knows your schedule, your hangouts, your friends, and your mother's maiden name

Probably has tea with your mother on the weekends, just saying

He prioritizes watching you above everything, even food and hygiene

He's getting a little thin… :( your mom is worried about her new friend :(

Doesn't matter because how could he miss you doing laundry!! So exciting!!

The big drawback with this man is that all he does is watch

If you're getting bullied, beat on, made fun of, abused; does not fucking matter

Kukukuku the faces you make while you're in agony are exquisite

Overall he's not much of a problem unless you don't want to be watched 24/7

….

I still hate him tho

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deadlydreamin · 5 years

Text

okay time for me to ramble about how much i love bts and how much those seven boys mean to me (this is actually a whole 2,390 word fucking essay so you can probably ignore this lmao):

for starters i want to talk about their talent. they have worked so hard as trainees and since their 2013 debut, and a lot of people seem to think they’re overrated. they have worked their asses off to get where they are today and they are always setting new records (or the army is for streams and shit) and doing things never done before when it comes to kpop. members like jin, who started off as a bighit actor with no singing/dancing talent - his vocal coach (and anyone who had heard his vocals from 2013 to now) says that instead of improving, that he’s completely transformed after probable years of staying up until 3am practicing. this is also shown with hoseok, who was meant to be a vocalist and main dancer but instead a rapper and main dancer - he worked hard (with the help of yoongi and namjoon) to learn HOW to rap, and again, if you compare cypher pt 1 to cypher pt 4, there’s a massive improvement in his rap. all of the members work so hard and have natural talent and i just- they deserve to be where they are today.

i also want to mention each of the members and what they’ve taught me.

starting with worldwide handsome kim seokjin, he’s taught me that hard work and perseverance will get you where you want to go in life. like i said, his vocals have completely transformed and he can sing notes higher than the sky [see his crystal snow triple high note, it gives me chills everytime], and his vocals have become so stable now while performing and i am proud of him. in his wings album solo, awake, he also expresses how he feels that he isn’t as talented as his other six members, and i can relate to this - i also feel inadequate compared to nearly everyone else around me. the bridge also makes me cry a little bit because it’s just- holy shit man. he’s also like the mum of bts, despite his love of cracking dad jokes whenever he can.

min yoongi, my ultimate bias. he is someone i look up to and aspire to be. yoongi is an incredible producer, lyricist, and rapper, and i could go on and on about his skills. he also works incredibly hard making music and his rapping is no joke, especially in cypher pt 2, 3, and his mixtape are brilliant. more than this, he talks about his struggles with anxiety (social) and depression, and especially his mixtape song the last - a lot of his songs on the mixtape have amazing lyrics, and specific instances of something happening that was incredibly personal to him. despite struggling with his issues, he has kept going, and when i ever get down, i think of how he has learned to love himself, and that i am capable of this too. also i think i relate to him most on a lot of levels - he’s the tired grandpa of the group, but can be silly and fun when he’s with hoseok. he has a hard time showing how much he cares for the others and isn’t as touchy as the other members tend to be, but he still does show he cares in subtle ways and i also can relate to this, because i often have no fucking clue as to how i should express my emotions. he looks like someone that could beat the shit out of you but is actually a big ol’ softie on the inside and he constantly says shit that makes me go “wow, same.” going back to his rap again, yoongi can rap fucking fast, but still can put so much energy behind his verses while doing it - he often builds up, he will go off and rap so fucking fast you question whether this man has lungs, and then go back - all the while you can tell he puts his entire being into his rap, if that makes sense. he also has a wide range - he can go from a kind of harsh, fast rap to a slower, smooth one (compare his verse of cypher pt 2 to seesaw - though seesaw does have his great vocals in it too, the change in his voice is remarkable).

your hope, your angel, j-hope. jung hoseok is an insanely talented dancer and rapper, and like the other members works so hard. his rapping, like i said, has improved over the years and he’s incredible now. his dancing has always been amazing to look at, because unlike jimin, who was also a dancer pre-debut, he did a lot of hip-hop based dance and he can express literally all of his emotions in his movements which i think is incredible. his vocals are also amazing and bighit needs to give him more vocal lines (like in blood, sweat and tears. that shit gets me every time). he is definitely the member who bias wrecks me a lot and i love his sunshine attitude. he’s a ball of joy and an angel (but also his fancam for that no more dream dance break does actually murder me) and his random outbursts and the fact he is also such a meme makes him lovable too. he’s taught me that i should always have a positive attitude to life and that it makes other people feel good too. hoseok has this effect on the other members (i believe it is referred to as ‘mood setter’ or something?), especially yoongi, where the other members may feel down but hoseok just has to be his extra self and they start smiling - like, yoongi will go from being tired and grumpy. place him in a room with hoseok? they’ll be goofs together and it’s the cutest shit (okay this is supposed to only be about hoseok but i do love me some sope content and i’m gonna go on about them here for a little bit longer). yoongi and hoseok are my two ult biases out of the various groups i listen to, because the two together create this chaotic energy and i love it - see the sope me behind the scenes duet bangtan bomb on youtube. those two are so chaotic in that video.

the kim namjoon himself. he’s the leader, rapper, and also produces/writes songs for bts. he’s also fluent in english due to watching friends, yet again he has an iq of 148 so he can do pretty much anything. namjoon is the glue that holds bts together - he does a good job of it, too, with sorting out solutions to disagreements and comforting the members when they need it most. if seokjin is the mum of bts, namjoon is the dad. namjoon has taught me that it is important we learn to love ourselves. his two mixtapes are different, particularly with the overall sound and tone of each mixtape - rm has a very hip-hop/rap sound, and is quite aggressive, while mono. is calming and very relaxed and reflective. i listen to rm when i’m feeling aggressive, and mono. when i need to relax or calm down (it is one of three things that helps me relax before going to sleep and also good to listen to after i’ve had a panic attack or something). i feel a particular connection with moonchild, from mono. the message namjoon portrays throughout the song is something with a calming sound, but also something that offers some encouragement to me when i need it, especially the chorus: “moonchild, you shine, when moon rise, it’s your time/moonchild, don’t cry, when moon rise, it’s your time”

park jimin. his high vocals are incredible and his high notes also give me goosebumps. he has a beautiful dance style that is unlike hoseok’s, as it is more contemporary/ballet focused and his movements reflect this. he has gone through hating his looks and becoming anorexic because of this, and i think that he is doing so much better now (i am talking him not eating a full, proper meal for upwards of ten days). he’s still quite self critical, and hates whenever he makes a small mistake, but i think that he puts so much work into making sure his performance is always perfect that he doesn’t always take care of himself, and that’s what i have learned from jimin - take proper care of yourself, and you should never have to hate your appearance because others develop high expectations for you. again, he works so hard to make sure he has a perfect performance every time and i commend him for this, but also he tends to overwork himself a lot and i’d love for him to take a week off at some point where he can just relax a bit more. he definitely deserves it.

kim taehyung. i think of the whole vocal line, his vocals are my favourite. he has a wide vocal range, going from notes lower than my not achieved grades to notes higher than the sky (stigma and singularity are great examples of this) - i can also actually sing his parts as i have a lower range and when i can sing a few lines with taehyung, i always feel good. like yoongi, tae can change and influence his rapping “voice”, taehyung can do a similar thing - he can be low and smooth with some high notes, and then suddenly he goes raspy and it’s fantastic (again, singularity vs war of hormone). the other three vocalsists can make their voices rough and raspy, but taehyung i think does it especially well, and it suits his incredibly low notes. despite his low voice, he’s actually got the personality and mental age of a child 99% of the time and to see him on and off stage is certainly interesting lmao. i would also like to add that he too is quite the meme (gucci boy) and he looks really good in a bandana/headband and i need more of that content in my daily life. taehyung was also behind the meaning of the army phrase “i purple you”, which means “i love/cherish/support you”, and whenever someone says that to me, i always feel great for the rest of the day. taehyung has taught me that bts do genuinely love us all and that as long as we support them, they will support us, and the shared love between bts and army.

the golden maknae, jeon jungkook. jungkook’s vocals are great, and in all honesty i do miss and go back to bts’ older music purely for the reason of seeing this young lad as one, a fetus, and two, to hear him rap. he’s good at pretty much anything he tries, having a black belt in taekwondo and various other things, and he’s currently working hard to study and learn english so that namjoon isn’t the only fluent english speaker in the group. honestly i find the concept of namjoon helping jungkook with english wholesome and it brings a smile to my face. despite jungkook being thrown into fame at a young age, he’s stayed humble and a happy person and i think it goes to show that fame won’t always screw someone up if they have the right people around them. jungkook had six older boys who practically raised him from when he became a trainee (which he must have been 12-13 when he became a trainee) and they taught him well. i’ve learned that from jungkook - by surrounding myself with the right people (though he wasn’t willingly technically, i’m grateful he did have the boys there for him and i couldn’t see anyone else in the group), i can remain what is most important in life - staying happy and humble.

bts has taught me several lessons in life, and i think that a lot of people dismiss them because they’re korean, because they’re overrated, because their music isn’t in english. what they seem to fail to understand is that emotion transcends languages, and that multilingual people do exist who translate lyrics for those who wouldn’t understand the entire song. even then, if you listen to the truth untold without english (or your native language) lyrics, you can still feel the sad vibes of the song. likewise if you listen to something like anpanman - you will feel the more positive energy and hype that the song conveys without the lyrics. a lot of people don’t want to listen to kpop because they might not understand what the songs are saying right away, but if you take your time and find music with messages you find inspiring and that impact you, it shouldn’t always matter what language the song is sung in, as long as you have a translated version that you can read and understand the basic message of the song. a lot of people wonder why bts has become so popular, and not just for their golden visuals, or their talent, but also the message they spread, especially with their love yourself album series - and it’s easy to see why after that. self love is something that many, many people struggle with and once people understand this message, people like bts because of this. people will listen to music that may not be in a language they speak because once they have seen/read the lyrics to the song in question, if the message stays with them, they will remember the message when they listen to the song, and just the association of the song and the message is enough for people to feel comfort from it. i am like this with magic shop - it is a song made specifically for the army, and about how we can take comfort in them when we are in pain/struggling/etc. the thought of this message enough while listening to the song makes me smile (and cry too lmao).

anyways, i think this is the end of my rambling. goodnight y’all, and if you read this far holy shit, you are a champion.

#bts #ramble #yoongi #hoseok #jin #namjoon #taehyung #jimin #jungkook #suga #seokjin #jhope #rm #v #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan

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m0onbean · 6 years

Text

strangers to lovers!AU with moonbin

genre: floOf!! strangers to lovers!AU

warnings: orchestra jokes

note: this literally happened to my sister except she didn’t get with him LMAO (and she’s in band but i’m in orchestra so i’m gonna make this AU about orchestra okay suck it candace)

in your school, orchestra is very competitive like... instead of sports being the “big” thing in typical high schools... at your town it was playing string instruments

so of course, everybody who was skilled at playing their string instrument was already deemed cool

you’re.. already at step 1... there’s just ONE problem

you’re last chair of the cellos

(note: in orchestras, the players are sorted in their seating chart by their skill. first chair is the chair closest to the conductor, so they’re the best out of their section. if you’re last chair... well.. you’re the least skilled LMAO)

bUT HEY!!!! you weren’t to blame !!!!

you first started to learn how to play the cello only a month ago

despite your private cello tutor’s efforts to spice you up it just didn’t work much. cellos are hard to play Ok

and even though it is a little embarrassing you can’t find yourself to care bc in the end you’re only doing this for your VPA credit LMFAO + your good friend MJ is also last chair in his viola section so the two of you were the Dynamic Duo. “the strings kings” as he calls it

“MJ never call us that again” “dang Y/N don’t get your bow so tightened” “MJ i swear to god-“

alrighty so your school is having a competition so your entire orchestra has to take a field trip to a fancy concert hall to perform

and so everyone in your orchestra is all panicking and tuning their strings cuz the bus is arriving soon

and when you’re done packing your cello, you look around to try and find MJ and that’s when you find a familiar(?) back and you’re like “MJ!!!!”

so you run up and smack his plush butt since that’s how you always greet him

...but you realize

this man is way too tall....

and when he turns around in utter confusion you’re like

shit........... S H I T

BECAUSE YOU JUST SPANKED THE BUTT OF A STRANGER

AND WHEN HE TURNS AROUND YOU REalize that he’s frEAKING FIRST CHAIR OF THE VIOLINS: MOONBIN

anD in your mind everything is scrambled into a mess bc first of all, it’s tHE FIRST CHAIR OF THE VIOLINS. AKA the king of the orchestra!!! literally he sits on a throne!!! he invented the word “orchestra”!!

AND IT WASNT EVEN LIKE A LOWKEY SLAP... it wAs like a FULL, haRD whack

so you’re out here apologizing several times and bowing your head frantically

but when you look up Moonbin is actually all cool about it

he’s just like “oh!!!! i wAs just... surprised” and you’re like “omfg i’m so sorry just end my life here right now i’m ready to be taken by the gods”

but he’s just like pffftttt i don’t blame you this ass is thicc asf

and you’re like ... wot

then he’s laughing and his eyes are crinkled up and he looks like a puppy & you’re like wow this man is so beautiful

but you remember you’re talking to the FIRST CHAIR VIOLIN and you get all

blushy from receiving this individual attention from him

so you excuse yourself and run away to whoever knows where so you can crumble and die from embarrassment

when the bus arrives and you find MJ to be your seat partner he asks why you look so drained

and you’re like... please i don’t want to talk about it

at the competition you’re still embarrassed bc honestly you technically sexually harassed him and that just goes unexcused but he was so chill about it like how?? and why??

and you don’t realize it but you’re zoning out while shamefully plucking the strings of your cello when suddenly a head pops up in front of you and you’re like bITCHWTF but when you see it’s moonbin you’re like- oh.. Ooh??

and he’s like “are you ready for the concert!!” and you’re like “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh notreally”

and he’s all smiley and happy that it’s nearly impossible not to at least smile back

yet you still can’t believe you’re talking to him !!!! especially because you’re pretty sure everybody is staring at the two of you talking rn and is like Why is the last chair cello and first chair violin talking ????

you two end up complaining about how the concert hall doesn’t provide you guys free food and laugh about your conductor’s bald spot

the performance goes well and you feel all giddy when moonbin tells you that you did well when you get back to the school

you end up messaging him for the first time on Instagram and apologize once again for slapping his buttkckskskaoa

he ends up dismissing it and assures you that it was nice

and you were like ....???wHAT

but he quickly corrects himself in the next message bubble and is liKE “wAIT I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT-“

that’s when you start to question his kinks

at school he starts to normally hang around you and even offers to play your cello and for you play to his violin

the star musician is actually better than you at the cello even though he’s only played it a few times before

you don’t even know how to hold the violin bow RIP

whenever you’re not in orchestra class together, he somehow manages to find you while you’re studying in the library or walking around the hallways

at first you’re a little taken aback at how persistent he is to maintain your odd friendship but you actually don’t mind at all

he suggests to tutor you so you can sight read pieces better and you of course take up that offer...

for the first quarter of the “lesson” it was actually learning while the other time was spent lounging on his couch while talking about both of your hardships and goals in life

despite being pressured as the star musician of the school, he loves and can perfectly handle it

his parents and teachers are always praising him and that motivates him to enter a musical college and major in Music Education and maybe start his own teaching business

his dreams are always so realistic and hopeful at the same time that you just admire how hard working he is and how he manages to not crack like an egg under all of this stress honestly

MJ starts getting a little jealous and pouts when you started to hang around moonbin more often but at the same time is secretly rooting for the two of you to hook up wHAT

moonbin ends up spending a LOT of time with you... in fact he spends so much time with you that you can’t recall what it was like not being around him

somewhere throughout the friendship there’s a turning point where you realize he’s not just your friend.. or you don’t want him to be JUST that

it comes at no surprise when you shyly ask him to be your boyfriend while you two are cuddling in your living room while listening to classical music in the background with him reading a book and you playing with his fingers

his response? a little scoff like “isn’t it obvious we are practically already dating”

you’re a bit hesitant to fully submerge yourself into this relationship bc you always need to remind yourself of both of your circumstances... he’s first chair violin and he’s like wayyyyy above you and it worries you bc you care about his reputation

and when you voice these concerns to him he just pets you and softly says “(y/n)... it’s literally just string instruments . nobody cares”

... he’s totally right though. nobody cares at all lmaooolo,, except maybe all of his fans that were hoping to date him... but moonbin is totally oblivious that he has a fan club LMFAO

your relationship is so pure and innocent yet it still makes your head spin and heart feel so tingly

moonbin is romantic af and wouldn’t hesitate to pluck a flower off the ground and tuck it behind your ear casually

he would like to always compliment your voice and say it’s the best music he’s ever heard and will ever hear

likes to compose his own songs and title them very lowkey things that all refer to you such as... Untied Shoelaces or Beautiful Eyes

other times he’ll just flat out title the song “(Y/N)”

likes to kiss you... a lot.

kisses you everywhere and whenever. in the music room, when he’s about the leave your house after a night of studying and cuddling, while you’re just playing the cello and he thinks you look cute, when there’s a red stop light so he can pause driving and peck your lips

you two are so open that it’s so easy telling him anything. for ex you’re constantly worried about your future and feel like you’re lacking. he makes sure to tell you that you’re doing fine and that you’ll succeed at whatever you do

and you comfort him and remind him to take a break since he’s always striving for the best so he tends to overwork and be really hard on himself

Moonbin always teases you for being so entranced by his butt the first time you met and thanks to your butt fetish, the two of you are together now

and you can’t really deny it because... well.. he’s not wrong lmaooo

dates would include him in your room at 10pm complaining about how even though classical music goes underappreciated these days that doesn’t mean that modern pop music isn’t good while laying his head in your lap as you run your fingers through his hair and nod your head whenever he makes a good point

occasionally he’ll cook for you and you’ll try to compensate by cooking for him too but it never ends up good (AKA you two end up burning all of the food) so you guys resort to ordering pizza

moonbin is so grateful that you understand him and remind him that he is a human that needs a break, too

and you’re grateful that he’s so understanding and genuinely cares about you

he even confesses that one of the main reasons why he took interest in you was because you were last chair cello but you didn’t slack off at all

even though you think he’s the most hard working person you know, he thinks the same about you

eventually MJ meets Jinjin, a trombone player, and immediately goes on a double date with you & binnie

you almost shed tears at how in love MJ is with Jinjin and the four of you are literally the best squad to have happened

in conclusion, you and moonbin love eachother so much and are perfect bye

#astro #moonbin #moonbin scenarios #moonbin headcanons #moonbin fluff #moonbin fanfictions

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