#this almost got lost in my queue good fucking gourd

[miscelunaaa]

give yourself a try | myg | teaser

pairing: yoongi x plus-sized female reader

genre: colleagues to lovers, angst, smut, mutual pining, coffee shop au

summary: You’ve got an enormous crush on Yoongi, the machine tech, and, if Jimin is to be believed, the feeling is mutual. A broken espresso machine and a snow storm are all it takes to bring everything crashing down around you. Can you put it all back together yourself? Or will you need some help?

rating: 18+ for complete work

word count: 20k+ (still in edits! this will be released as a two shot!)

teaser wc: around 1.3k :)

warnings for completed fic: frequent POV changes. reader is insecure about her body and has a lot of internalized fatphobia. depictions and conversation about mental health and insecurity. panic attacks. conversations about angsty back story that includes medical issues, infertility, and break-ups. sexual content including but not limited to: making out in public, soft dom yoongi, oral sex, unprotected penetrative sex with other birth control in place, creampie. be sure to read the complete warnings before each part!

warnings for teaser: swearing, content is lightly edited and subject to change in the final posting

notes: What a labor of love this story has been to write. Everything is kind of a dumpster fire right now and I’ve been processing some shit over the past few months, and that’s when this story happened. It was supposed to be a 6k romp in a coffee shop with lots of crack, messy public sex, and abundant health code violations!!! And something happened and now it’s a 20k soft and feelingsy angst fic??? And like maybe the second best smut scene I’ve ever written?? There’s so much I want to talk about with this fic, but I want to let it speak for itself when the time comes. It’s nerve wracking; I’ve never written anything like this before. This is also the first time I’ve written an overtly plus-sized reader, so I hope I’ve done her justice. Drop me a comment or an ask if you’d like to be on the tag list for this! Part 1 will be coming next week!

Oh!! Last thing! The title comes from a song by The 1975. They’re one of my favorite acts of all time; they sit on a shelf inside my heart, right next to BTS and Sufjan Stevens. Enjoy!

— — — — — — —

It’s already been one of those days. The holidays are always a fucking mess; busy, messy, and stressful as hell. The stretch between Christmas and New Years is the messiest of all. Your customers were typically harried, your own personal lives probably stretched thin. Equipment breaking was just whipped cream on the seasonal latte. One of the heads on the machine kept overheating, even after you tried letting off heat from the boiler by running the steam wand and the grouphead. None of it worked, it just kept getting hotter and hotter.

“Y/N,” Jimin turns his head, speaking over his shoulder, “We’ve got a problem.”

You blink at him, glancing over his shoulder as he gives the pressure dial on the machine a tap.

“Huh,” you frown as you hand the customer in front of you his change, directing him to the pick up counter. No one left in line. That’s good. You walk over, pointed the steam wand out, and flip the lever to run it. The gauge’s little arm doesn’t move, staying stubbornly in the red. At least it had stopped rising.

“I’ll make the call, use the other head for now. There are two boilers in that thing, I think. I’ll be right back.”

You step into the back storage room, pull your phone from your back pocket, and call your boss. You already know what he’s going to tell you, but you always made sure to talk to him first. Mostly because you want to make sure he knows what a pain in the ass this fucking machine was, despite his insistence that it’s top of the line.

The line rings and rings, and that fucker just won’t pick up the other line. It’s a pity he pays so well despite being the most absent boss you’d ever worked for. It means you can’t completely hate his guts.

You hang up the call and pop him a quick text:

::: machine seems to have a boiler issue, i’m calling the tech.

boss::: 👍

You roll your eyes. Fucker can’t answer a phone call but can send an emoji. Figures.

You poke your head out of the back room to make sure Jimin is holding his own before making the call. There’s a lull, he’s already finished his drink queue and is leaning against a counter, detail cleaning a portafilter. God, you could have kissed him right then and there just for that. With a little smile playing on your lips, you duck back into the back and search for the barista tech’s phone number, and press call.

It only rings twice before he picks up: “Yoongi Min speaking.”

Ugh, his voice is like melted chocolate, or a freshly made ganache. Dark. Velvety. Rich. You just want to dip your finger in it and suck.

“Hi Yoongi, this is Y/N from KnockBox.”

“Ah, I thought it might be you. I’ll make sure I actually save your number this time. I almost didn’t pick up.”

Weird, he answered after two rings. Almost didn’t pick up your ass. “I don’t blame you for not saving it. The hope would be that I don’t have to call you this often.”

“Mm,” he grunts, “And yet, here we are. What’s the machine doing this time?”

“Boiler issue I think, it’s heating up and staying in the red. Won’t go down after letting steam run, nor the grouphead.”

“Hm.” Yoongi is silent on the other end of the line for a moment. “Don’t use it, but don’t turn it off yet. You’ve got the double boiler machine right?”

“Yes.”

“Keep an eye on both of them. These machines often have faulty switches that don’t trip when they overheat. I can recalibrate them but there’s enough wires and shit that I can’t talk you through it.” He pauses again, and then continues with a sigh. “I can be there in two hours. I know that’s not ideal because you close in an hour …” His voice is low enough that it makes your skin tingle. Waiting for him is no problem; at least you get to look at him for a few minutes during the trade off.

“Yeah, but we need a functioning machine. I have no problem waiting for you.” Cruel, ironic laughter echoes in your skull.

“This time of year is a bullshit season for coffee, I get it. Maybe you could just wait around to let me in, and then lock the door so that it locks behind me when I leave? That way you don’t have to wait on me and you can go home.”

“Yeah, I think we did that last time.”

“Alright, cool, see you then, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much, Yoongi. See you in a couple of hours.”

The line disconnects, and you sit with your head in your hands for a moment before heading back out to the front. Fuck. He was so attractive you can hardly stand it.

“How was the dreamboat?” Jimin asks, trying to play it as cool as he can. His lip quirks when you throw him a look; he knows exactly how attractive you find the machine tech your boss contracts out, and he will never let you live it down.

“He must be out at another job. He can’t be here for another two hours.” You said the words as plainly as you could, not trying to give your coworker the satisfaction of seeing you squirm.

“Fuck, seriously?” Jimin pushed himself off the counter and placed the portafilter on the machine’s drip tray. “You want me to stay? I don’t have class tonight.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I think it’s supposed to snow,” you say, casually. Like hell if you were going to miss seeing the man who’d haunted your dreams since you’d first had to call him. “I’ll just let him in, then leave.”

“Or, hear me out, you could fuck him in the back and then let him work on the machine and leave.”

“Ugh, Jimin, next to the mop bucket? That’s fucking disgusting.”

“And so is this crush you’ve had on him for the past few months! It’s so obvious even the babies have started to talk about it. Jungkook has plotting about how to get you two together since he caught you staring at Yoongi’s dump truck ass!”

“He’s what??” Jungkook is one of the student baristas, typically an opener because most of his classes are in the afternoon.

“He and Sarah AND Mercedes! Shit, Mercedes is about ready to put the moves on him just so you suck up your feelings and make your move to stop her.” All three of your little baby baristas are traitors?! Since when?

“Those little punks, I’m going to make them scrub the back splash bricks with a toothbrush.”

“That’s an empty threat and you know it. You’d rather do it yourself.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. You thought you’d been stone cold about this crush, that you’d been nothing but professional and courteous. Instead you’d gotten caught by four of your five coworkers. How had they even known you were staring? You were trying to be as inconspicuous as possible by doing cleaning tasks!

“Does everyone know about this, Jimin? Is nothing sacred anymore?”

“Yes. Literally everyone knows. Even regulars. The cute little old guy who brings in his newspaper every morning? He’s asked me about it, and how could I lie to him? So he knows.”

“God, Jimin, I get it, everyone knows.”

“Seokjin, that hot dilfy lawyer? He knows. He ships the shit out of y’all.”

“I’m going to end every single one of you.”

“He says that when y’all get married he’ll give you a discount on your wills and powers of attorney.”

You groan, “You’re all dead to me.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that if a guy like Seokjin can see it happening, anything can happen. You know how jaded that guy is about relationships. He wouldn’t just say something like that.” Jimin’s voice is almost serious now, he’s speaking more earnestly in spite of your obvious irritation.

“Oh please, Yoongi only knows I exist because of all the times I’ve had to annoy him with maintenance calls.”

— — — — — — —

thank you for reading! drop me an ask and tell me what you think. find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. my work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work. thank you.

posted: 2.16.2022