Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

The Weight of Birthdays (Yoongi)

To the world, Min Yoongi was a musical genius, known for his lyricism and quiet brilliance as a rapper in BTS. To ARMY, he was Suga—a calm, introspective presence in a whirlwind of fame. But to himself, Yoongi was just... tired.

The jokes had started years ago, their origins so mundane that Yoongi couldn't remember who said it first. It was likely one of the members, during a casual moment in the dorms.

"Hyung, you're such a grandpa," Taehyung had teased, laughing when Yoongi declined to join a late-night gaming session. "Always going to bed early."

"Yeah," Jungkook added with a grin. "You even sit like one!"

It was true; Yoongi had a habit of sitting with a blanket draped over his knees, his posture slouched. The other members had laughed, and Yoongi had chuckled along with them. It was harmless. It was funny.

Except, over time, the jokes didn't stay inside the dorm.

ARMY began calling him "Grandpa Yoongi," a term of endearment, but one that stung in ways no one could have predicted. The jokes spilled into livestream comments, interviews, and even fan letters. "Grandpa Yoongi is the cutest!" "I love how lazy you are!" "Our sleepy grandpa!"

At first, he brushed it off. But as the years passed, the words grew heavier, sinking deep into the crevices of his mind.

Standing in front of the mirror, Yoongi stared at his reflection. The light in the dorm bathroom was harsh, casting shadows under his eyes and highlighting every line and imperfection. He frowned, turning his face to the side.

"I really do look old," he muttered. His hand reached up, tracing the faint wrinkles near his eyes.

In the past, Yoongi had never been particularly concerned with his appearance. His music, his words, and his creativity were what mattered. But lately, his own reflection felt foreign—like an enemy.

His mind replayed the teasing comments, the endless jokes. "Grandpa." "Boring." "Lazy."

With a sigh, he looked down at his hands. They were calloused from years of playing the piano and guitar, a testament to his dedication to music. But even these, he thought bitterly, looked old.

Before debuting with BTS, Yoongi's birthdays had been unremarkable. In his family's modest household, celebrations were simple—if they happened at all. Sometimes a cake, sometimes just a quiet acknowledgment of the day.

But after debut, everything changed. His members celebrated his birthday with surprise parties, cakes, and livestreams for ARMY. They showered him with love, and ARMY followed suit, sending heartfelt messages and gifts.

At first, it had been overwhelming. Yoongi wasn't used to being the center of attention. But over time, he grew to appreciate the affection, even if he didn't always show it.

This year, however, the dread in his chest was suffocating. The thought of smiling for the camera, of reading messages that called him "Grandpa Yoongi," felt unbearable.

The dorm was quiet that night, the others having retreated to their rooms early. Tomorrow was Yoongi's birthday, and the members had been unusually secretive, sneaking around and whispering about plans.

Yoongi sat on his bed, staring at his phone. His inbox was already filling with birthday messages from ARMY, each one more effusive than the last.

"Happy birthday, Grandpa Yoongi!"
"You're so adorable, even when you're lazy!"
"Never change, Grandpa!"

He put the phone down, his chest tightening. The comments weren't malicious—he knew that. But they felt like tiny cuts, each one deeper than the last.