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letters-and-lemons-blog · 6 years

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New Year, Old Us

Summary: there’s nothing like being in the same room as your ex on new years but kissing another when the clock strikes midnight.

2.5k

Warnings: mentions of attempted rape

The thing about being in the same industry as your significant other is that if--or when--the breakup happens, you're seeking comfort from the same circle of friends. The news will travel faster than your mouths can speak, concerned messages assaulting your phones in endless streams of so I heard what happened…want to talk about it? In the months that follow, your friends will do everything in their power to make sure the two of you don't cross paths. Someone's got a birthday? Might as well throw two parties instead of one, where things could quickly go south if the ex-lovers make a scene. You used to work in concept design for his group? You’re now swamped with the upcoming trainees’ debut.

But a lot of things can't be avoided. Company gatherings, for one, are an attend-at-all-costs type of thing. This year, the event is taking place on the rooftop, a throwback to older days when the company only consisted of a small, close-knit group. Nowadays, just the makeup and hair department gets its own floor. But despite the distance, everyone knows one another, staff meetings often times ending with trips to the restaurants and bars nearby.

An hour into the party and drinks are flowing smoothly, projects and deadlines pushed aside as everyone rejoices on the past year, accomplishments and awards brought up in conversation with wide smiles and encouragements for an even better year to come. You're feeling the buzz yourself after being roped into downing some liquor when your coworkers started taking shots at the bar.

Not a dancer most of the time, you can't find it in yourself to refuse tonight when your coworkers are dragging you to the makeshift dance floor. In this time of night, it's hard to make out who's who. The only thing you're sure of is that you're going to get blisters from the way your heels are rubbing against the back of your feet, and you chastise yourself for wearing the shoes you purchased last weekend. Who were you trying to impress, anyway?

And maybe the answer comes in a tap to your shoulder.

It's the new hire, Kim Sungmin, accepted on the spot with a masters in marketing and a charming personality. He's got an eye on you, so you've been told, and with the way the night was structured, you figured you'd be talking to him tonight.

"Noona," he begins. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good," you reply, quickly noting that your coworkers have suddenly disappeared from your side.

"Can I get you a drink?" Sungmin tilts his head toward the bar.

You pretend to look surprised and say, "Are you finally repaying me for all the times I helped you out?"

He plays along. "And to pay it forward, because I'll need your help in the future, I’m sure."

"Well then," you say. "You better hurry along. The drinks aren't going to walk here themselves."

Sungmin flashes you a smile before heading to the bar, and you scan the crowd for any sign of your coworkers. The search proves futile, but before you can be disappointed, Sungmin returns and hands you a glass.

"Just beer tonight?" you ask after taking the drink from his hands.

He shakes his head. "S'got whiskey."

"Hm," you hum. "My favourite. How'd you know?"

He hides a smug grin behind his glass. "You looked like someone who'd enjoy a good drink."

You smile, and bring your glass to his. "Here's to a wonderful year."

"A wonderful year," he echoes.

As the night drags on, you find yourself dancing with Sungmin for most of the songs. He's been telling you stories about his previous workplace, where he was in charge of creating ads for toothbrushes that doubled as hair combs.

"At one point, I was sure that if the company didn't go under, I was going to sabotage the sales myself," he confesses. "I mean, how was that supposed to sell? If someone wanted to brush their teeth, the toothpaste ran down to the comb, and if someone did their hair, there'd be hair in the toothbrush!"

You're having a hard time standing upright with how hard you're laughing. It's been a while since you've laughed so hard, and just when you're about to tell him that, the DJ stops the music.

"Alright, alright, everybody. Don't worry, we'll be back real soon. But it's 11:59pm and we've got 20 seconds until the new year. Who's ready?"

The crowd cheers. Sungmin wraps an arm around your shoulders.

You take a moment to look around, seeing the excited looks on everyone's faces. Correction: everyone's faces except one. You recognize his eyes almost immediately, dark orbs behind hooded lids.

10…9…8…

With five drinks in your system as you stand in the arms of another man, there's nothing like seeing your ex at a New Year's party.

7…6…5…

The clock will soon strike twelve and all the couples in the room will be sucking each other's faces.

4…3…2…

And it's like he knows exactly what you're thinking because the look he sends you then is the devil himself, criminal and finding its way straight to your loins.

1…

You turn to face Sungmin, and when the cheering begins, you're tugging him to your lips.

The sky is still dark outside, but it must be morning given the traffic you can already hear down below. You reach for your phone, but stop when your hands come up empty. There's no nightstand there. A wave of panic washes over you right before you hear the duvet crinkle behind you.

"Mornin'."

You let out the breath you've been holding. Memories of last night, of Sungmin, come back to you and you turn around to find him still under the covers, tips of his hair peeking out. Reaching over, you card your fingers through his hair, and he hums in response. The blond strands bend stiffly under your touch, brittle fibers bearing the mark of bleach and chemicals.

Wait. You swear Sungmin's hair was brown last night.

"Don't stop," he protests, and this time, you hear the drawl in his voice that points you to a certain someone. Just to confirm, you lift your head and sure enough, you're met with the designs of a familiar curtain.

"…Yoongi?"

A hand shoots out from under the covers and pulls your wrist back to his scalp. "I said don't stop," he grumbled.

"Yoon--what the fu--" you jerk your hand away from him, using the other to prop yourself up.

"We'll talk later, just come lay down for now."

"What? No, no we're not talking about this. I can't bel--this can't be happe--fuck." You rub your temples, your hangover catching up to you.

"There's Advil and water on the floor beside you."

You mutter a thanks, grateful for anything that will relieve the pounding in your head.

"Lie down, Y/N," Yoongi pats the bed where you were before. "Come on, I've seen you naked before. I've got nothing to gain from this."

You send him a skeptical look (which he probably can't see anyway) but relent nonetheless.

Five minutes go by in silence.

"Yoongi?" You begin, knowing he was too quiet to be asleep. "Can we talk?"

He sighs. "Thought you weren't talking about it."

"…Please."

He brings the duvet down from his face and rubs his eyes, a small yawn leaving his lips and you unconsciously study his features. When he opens his eyes, he begins. "We didn't fuck."

"Yoongi!"

"Hey, I know you'd want to know that so don't pretend like you don't."

You purse your lips, unhappy that he still knows you so well. "Well then, why am I here? All I remember is that I was with Sungmin the whole night."

It's his turn to look displeased. "Why don't you ask him then? I'm sure that boy toy of yours has got plenty to say for himself."

The dark tone of his words take you by surprise. "Wait, Yoongi. I didn't mean that, sorry. But … what happened last night?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs again. "Promise me, Y/N, that you'll listen to what I say, and only that. Just listen, don't start thinking about other things, don't go blaming yourself. Okay?"

Warily, you nod.

"He tried to drug you," Yoongi pauses when he hears you gasp, and grabs your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. He waits until you give him the go-ahead to continue. "It was around 1 A.M. and getting pretty loud. I was about to leave because we had a busy day and I was tired, so I went around to say bye to some people. As I made my way around, I noticed you two weren't dancing anymore, and it looked like you guys were getting ready to head out too."

You nod along, flashbacks of last night returning with what Yoongi was telling you.

"But for some reason he left you and was walking to the bar by himself. I found it weird so I stayed behind in case he was up to something. I couldn't see clearly but he got two glasses of something with vodka, and came back to give it to you. I would have just left if it ended there, but I guess you gave him a look or something because all of a sudden he was telling you that it was water, and that was when I knew he was up to no good."

You let out a shaky breath, and Yoongi squeezes your hand. It's not until you see the drops on the duvet that you notice you're crying. He takes his hand out of yours and reaches around to pull you towards him.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Yoongi gently kisses the side of your head.

When he snatched the drink out of your hand last night, you were furious with him. Even though you were already drunk at that point, words slurring together meaninglessly, he had to put up with you knocking your fist against him as he dragged you out of the party. In the car, it had been a test of a lifetime to drive safely while you were screaming in the passenger seat. Your apartment was on the other side of the city and he didn't trust you to yourself, so Yoongi decided that one night with him wouldn't kill either of you.

By the time he reached his apartment, you had fallen asleep, looking so cute and peaceful that Yoongi couldn't help but smile. Hauling you up to his unit was by no means a piece of cake, but with the way you pouted and grabbed at him, Yoongi wondered not for the first time if things had truly been bad enough to warrant the breakup. It was only when he laid you down onto his bed that he noticed your tear-stained cheeks, and if Yoongi was mad at himself whenever he used to make you cry, his fury was multiplied hundredfold last night. Gritting his teeth, he sent very stern, carefully-worded emails to the company, repeating over and over again that it had not been your fault and that you were not to suffer from the consequences.

"Yoongi?" your sniffling interrupts his train of thought.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

He says nothing, but pulls you closer. With your back flush against his chest, you let out a deep breath, letting everything sink in.

"You know, we never spent a New Year's together," you point out.

He winces. It's true. This year was the first year they'd been given a day off on this day, whereas usually they'd be rehearsing for some show tonight.

"Do you have a New Year's resolution?" you ask.

He knows what you're doing: distracting yourself so it doesn't hurt so much, and he goes along with it. "Yeah. I'm going to grow taller." The chuckle it brings you is worth the kick he receives. "How 'bout you?"

"I wanted to be more daring, to try new things and," he sees your lips quiver. "And…to meet new people."

"Hm," Yoongi pretends to ponder. "Statistically speaking, you should have better luck with the next few."

You laugh at this, but Yoongi notices the light tone in your voice slowly leaves and the laugh transitions into something else. You're crying, he realizes.

Yoongi had never been good at comforting people, and even when the two of you were dating he was still unsure of what to do when he was faced with your tears. So imagine his surprise when you pause to say, “Just … stay like this, Yoongs." He quietly lets you know that he's heard you, voice choked in his throat and he's not sure if it's because that you still know him so well, or that the old nickname just slipped past your lips and it's been so long since you’ve called him that.

It's still dark when you wake for the second time. This time, however, you're not surprised when you find an arm wrapped around you, soft snores landing on the back of your neck. It's comforting, actually, and note that you haven't slept this well in a long time.

Yoongi wakes to the sound of the door closing, and he’s out of the bedroom in a flash. To his relief, it was only the delivery guy, and you were carrying the bags to the kitchen when arms came behind you and Yoongi, in the quietest of voices, whispered stay the night, too, okay?

You object at first, telling him that you've got nothing to wear and it's going to be weird to wear his clothing, but he stops you when he pulls out a drawer full of your belongings.

You raise a brow, and Yoongi scratches the back of his head. "I never threw these out."

The implication behind his words makes you blush, too, but you agree.

It’s not the last time you spend the night at his place, either. The two of you find yourselves settling into familiar routine, the comfort of each other’s company drawing you closer and it’s not long before you find yourselves spending almost every night together. Of course, eventually that leads to an awkward conversation about what exactly is going on. The question that hangs in the air is a walk on the tightrope between forgiveness and second chances. The answer, thankfully, tips the scale.

"So," Namjoon begins as the maknaes finally sit down at the table. "Are you and Yoongi hyung back together?"

"Hyung!" Jungkook exclaims. Jin knocks Namjoon on the head.

"It's an important question," the leader defends himself, rubbing the side of his head.

"Show some tact, will you?" Jin scolds. "But he's right, Yoongi. Are you and Y/N…"

The entire table turns to look at you both.

"Well if not, why the fuck would she be here?"

The room erupts in cheer, with hugs given all around.

"About time, actually. Hyung was terrible to be around when he was moping." Jungkook offered helpfully, only to be met with his hyung's middle finger.

Yoongi tries to keep up an indifferent expression for the rest of the night, but fails miserably when the rest of them don’t let up their teasing, and he ends up hiding his red-tinted cheeks behind you.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts suga #suga #yoongi #bts yoongi #suga scenarios #yoongi scenarios #bts imagines #suga imagines #yoongi imagines

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letters-and-lemons-blog · 7 years

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Blurred

Summary: it’s fwb until it isn’t anymore. | 1.3k

“Fuck,” Yoongi groans, sinking into the bed as he lay atop of you. Out of habit, you stroke his hair, and he turns into the touch, light hum sending vibrations to your neck. This close, you can feel his heartbeat through your chest, a familiar lull that reminds you of how well you know him. When he pushes himself off of you, he’s got that dreamy look in his eyes, as he always does afterward. It’s a kind of look that you want to tear your eyes from, knowing he’s retracing every curve and crevice of your face, updating the file he’s kept from the last time you were together like this, making note of any changes. “This hair looks good on you.”

You look away, “thanks.” It’s always this part, this aftermath, that’s hard to maneuver.

Starting it was easy as can be. As per some sort of ritual, you met with him in his hotel lobby, the stress from your job driving you to this outlet.

“I am one lucky man,” he’d said when you’d arrived, “to be in the presence of such a fine-looking lady tonight.”

As usual, his lavish words slipped right past you as you turned to the bar, ordering yourself a martini. Yoongi shakes his head as he seats himself on the next stool.

“You know that I have better liquor upstairs,” he reminds you for the nth time.

“Yet,” you say in between sips. “I still prefer this.”

Yoongi says nothing in response, only ordering another martini and pushing the glass to you once it came.

“What’s this for?” you ask with a lifted brow as you pop the olive into your mouth.

“You were going to order another anyway,” Yoongi shrugs as he looks away.

You stare for a moment, but the suspicion is quickly put aside at the prospect of a free drink. You down it in one go, slam the glass on the counter, and turn towards him. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Yoongi gets up and gestures for you to walk first, trailing behind as you made your way towards the elevator.

You hit the button to the 37th floor, and take a moment to really look at Yoongi. He’s gotten lighter since the last time you saw him. For someone as young as him to inherit a company, it’s certainly not a small task. The Yoongi you used to know, however, didn’t let any signs of fatigue show, a goofy smile always adorning his face, crescent eyes forming every time he saw your face. But he’s not the same Yoongi anymore. The bags under his eyes are etched out under the fluorescent lighting, and the dull hue to his skin gives his sleepless nights away. You almost feel bad for not checking whether he was free tonight.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Yoongi says as he closes the door behind you.

“Nice flowers,” you comment as you hang your coat up.

“You said you liked yellow,” he explains as he puts your bags away. “There’s water on the counter, and juice in the fridge. If you want coffee or tea the hot water’s in the kettle,” he busies himself with undoing his laces.

“I’ll pass. Let’s just get this over with,” you decide, making your way to the bedroom.

He looks up at you, expression unreadable, but says nothing. You notice his quiet behaviour, but choose not to comment. It’s not what you came here for, and frankly, Yoongi’s always been a bit hard to understand. He follows you to the bedroom, remains silent as he takes off your clothes, and if it weren’t for the rustling sheets, the room may as well have been empty.

“Leaving already?” Yoongi comments as you step into your pant legs.

“Yeah, well,” you say as you shimmy into the tight jeans, “I’ve got to get some groceries before the store closes. Have you noticed that all the bread sells out so quickly now?”

Yoongi ignores your attempt to change the subject. “Why didn’t you say it?” His voice is solemn, and it’s clear that the question has been hanging over him for some time.

“Say what?” you feign innocence.

But he’s not buying it. “I told you I loved you, Y/N. You ignored it.”

“I didn’t hear you, Yoongs,” you mutter as you grab your socks.

“Don’t lie,” Yoongi’s voice pins you down. “I said I loved you, Y/N. Does that not mean anything to you?” He gets up and sits on the edge of the bed, facing your back.

“I told you, Yoongi. We’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t fuck.”

The vulgarity in his words has you stunned. “We’re not talking about this,” you turn towards the door, but he’s right behind you, tugging your wrist before you even make it two steps away.

“Y/N,” he starts. “Tell me. Why not us?” He turns you to face him, and you will yourself to focus on a spill in the corner of the rug. “Please…” His voice cracks near the end, and you notice the tears in his eyes when you finally turn to look at him.

“We…” you trail off, “we won’t work.”

Why? His eyes implore, hands squeezing your forearms. Min Yoongi was not known for pleading. He only needs to lift a finger to get what he wants, but not when it comes to you. You were a lock that he just could not find the key to, a piece that he couldn’t fit into the puzzle even though he knew it had a place in there.

“We’re not at the same, the same place,” you mutter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yoongi tries not to make his voice sound harsh, but it’s truly a test to his willpower.

“Just look at you, Yoongi!” you exclaim. “Early twenties, and you’ve already got your whole life ahead of you. There’s so much that you’re already destined to do, and you’ve got so much responsibility on your back. And then look at me…” you pause.

Yoongi starts to understand, understand the reason why you’ve always carried that look of shame every time you saw him, and why you insist on using a payphone to call him so he doesn’t know your number.

“I have no idea where I’m going to be in the next ten, five, heck, even two years,” you lower your head. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, but I don’t even have mine right now.”

The silence that ensues is deafening. Afraid to look his way, you look at your feet instead, taking in your Keroppi socks across from his YSL slippers.

“God damn,” you hear Yoongi sigh. “How are you so fucking dumb?”

“Excuse me?” your head shoots up.

He laughs. “This whole time,” he shakes his head. “This whole time I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, when you were actually thinking this?” He laughs dryly once again. “Come here, Y/N,” he pulls you forward into a hug.

“Yoongi,” you squirm. “You should think this through.”

“You silly girl,” he sighs, takes a step back and squares you to him. Staring you in the eyes, he enunciates every word. “That doesn’t matter. It’s you that I want, Y/N, not some 9-5 that’s supposed to impress me with whatever responsibility you have. Besides,” he continues. “I’ve seen you take care of your entire family when they hit that slump a while back, and if that doesn’t show how capable you are, nothing will.”

His fingers brush your cheekbones. “Do you get it now?”

You hesitate, but then nod, once, twice, and Yoongi breaks out into the brightest smile you have seen from him in weeks. He’s almost screaming with joy as he tugs you into him, twirling the two of you around until you collapse onto the bed.

Later that night, as you lay on Yoongi’s chest, you ask, “So, does this mean…are we…”

“Yes,” he says as he leans up to kiss you. “And yes.”

#bts #bts scenarios #suga #yoongi #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #suga scenarios #suga imagines #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #bts imagines #bts drabbles #bts fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic

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