je t'aime (min yoongi x reader)

drunk

you cursed under your breath, exasperated. this min yoongi was an enigma. when he was with you, or even texting, he was romantic, flirty, and kind. but the second something arose at work, he became stressed, gave short replies, and generally seemed uninterested in you altogether.

you had been chatting for around three months now- and there had been barely any progression. sure, there had been several dates, visits to cafes, restaurants and more. regardless, he had yet to kiss you and was overall very guarded.

you needed to find out what he did for a living, but he clearly didn't want to share. you began to wonder if he perhaps did something in the... fantasy fulfilment workplace, or even something more... sexual.

biting your lip, you became a little nervous. it wasn't that you had anything against someone in that profession but it'd certainly put a spanner in the works of your relationship- that's even if you had one. you hadn't actually confirmed anything with yoongi so perhaps calling it a relationship was premature.

running your hands through your hair, you cursed, full of stress. grabbing a bottle of wine from the fridge, you poured yourself a plentiful glass. you were well aware that this was a bad idea, given that you'd already had an excessive amount of wine with yoongi, but you just needed to relax.

a glass or two, or three later, you found yourself ringing yoongi. "(y/n)?" his voice was husky, tired and deep, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "yooooooongi~ are you a protestant?" yoongi snorted over the phone, laughing loudly. his laugh was beautiful, you noted. "why are you laughing yooooongi? it's a serious question!"

yoongi laughed again. "no i'm not a protestant. i'm also not a prostitute, which i'm guessing was what you were trying to ask." he laughed again. "oh, okay, that's good. so what do you do?" you queried. "just stuff. nothing interesting. but look, i've got to go. make sure to drink some water when you wake up!" he hung up, and you stumbled to the bed, falling asleep as soon as you hit the mattress.

~

once again, you were woken up by your phone ringing. this was a recurring theme now, and it was not a good way to start your morninh. "hello?" you answered groggily, massaging your temples as your hangover began to kick in. "where in the fuck are you?" your manager screamed down the phone at you. you flinched at his loud voice.

"at home? why?" you asked. "are you fucking kidding me? its fucking one in the afternoon, you were supposed to be in at nine! you know what- you're fucking fired. i don't want to see you again." he hung up.

you nearly started crying- this was not how you wanted to start your morning. you crawled out of bed, ignoring your disheveled clothes from last night. with a sigh, you swallowed a few aspirin, chugging a glass of water. once again, you rubbed your temples, desperately hoping your headache would dissipate soon.

when your phone rang again you answered much more angrily. "look, i fucking get it, i'm fired! you don't need to say it again, don't expect me to come down there again." there was a silence, causing you to panic. maybe he was ringing to apologise and you just blasted his ear off. "um... it's yoongi?"

"oh shit! i'm so sorry, fuck, shit, oh for fucks sake i'm sorry." yoongi chuckled at you. "it's fine, i'm guessing you haven't had a great morning?" you smiled, bewildered that he could make you happy even in a time like this. "yeah, not great. i overslept and woke up to my manager telling me i was fired... and i have a killer hangover." yoongi chuckled again. "did you drink some water like i said?"

you furrowed your brows. "like you said?"
"yeah, you rang me last night." yoongi explained.
"oh shit. what did i say?" you were panicking now. 'i really hope i didn't ask him if he was a sex worker. please, please, please god...'

"you asked me if i was a protestant." he laughed, and you face palmed. "oh my god really? and you still want to maintain contact with me?"
"you betcha. can i come over?" you looked around your apartment. it was a mess. you hesitated. "i don't have to i just figured-"
"no! no it's fine, come over. just don't be alarmed at how messy it is."

"alright, be there in ten." he said, hanging up. frantically, you began tidying, throwing clothes in your laundry basket, frantically putting packets and cans in the bin, and in eight minutes, your apartment looked acceptable. however, when passing a mirror, you quickly realised that you... didn't.

your hair was all over the place from sleeping and your clothes were creased beyond belief. you cursed, frantically brushing your hair as you looked for something to wear. you managed to throw on an outfit and look somewhat decent just as yoongi rang the doorbell.

yoongi turned up holding two cups of coffee, and handed one to you. you took it thankfully, taking a huge gulp. "how did you know how i like my coffee?" yoongi smiled as the two of you walked into your living room. "lucky guess." you smiled at him, taking a seat on the sofa. you didn't know why you were so nervous, but you were.

he walked over, his eyes scanning your apartment as he did. it was almost as though he were evaluating it, and it didn't help your nerves. you took a sip of your coffee as he took a seat next to you. "why did you ask me if i was a protestant last night?" he inquired, turning to face you.

'wow okay, straight in there with that then...' you thought, gulping a little more audibly than you had intended. "well, i was drunk, for starters." yoongi gave a polite chuckle at this, which was probably intended to calm you, but in fact only made you more nervous. "and with how dismissive you were of your profession- or 'work stuff' as you call it- i began to wonder if it was a profession you were ashamed of, and the only one i could think of was a sex worker which i know is horribly judgemental and i don't mind if you are but-" stopping abruptly, you realised that yoongi had a soft smile on his face. "sorry. i sort of went off on a tangent there, didn't i?"

"yeah, a little." he said with a light chuckle. "my profession isn't anything to do with sex, actually. but it is something i don't like to admit to anyone, since they often judge me." you frowned slightly at this, subconsciously defensive of him. "but for whatever reason, i feel as though i can trust you." he paused, a conflicted expression crossing his face. he sighed, and said- "i'm a rapper."