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snifflyjoonie · 10 months

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Call Me What I Am

In which Jimin has to take an immediate leave from work.

Whump-centric featuring an injured Jimin and a stubborn Yoongi. (plus a little allergic!Yoongi as a treat)

Word count: 3032

FlowerShop!AU Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

a/n: Hi, all! I’m so excited but so incredibly nervous to be back with my first full-length fic in awhile. I feel so unbelievably rusty, and I’m really hoping that doesn’t reflect too much in my writing. I’m so beyond appreciate of those of you that have been so kind to me while I took a much longer than anticipated hiatus. But I’m happy to be back! The featured flower for this installment is a black dahlia. Points if you know what types of emotions they represent! This is my first ever fic on this blog that doesn’t involve illness, and is my first injury fic period. It required me to do a bit of research, so I hope I did the story justice! Please let me know if you guys end up liking this one xx thanks for reading!

It had only taken Jimin a few months to realize that there truly was no-one out there quite like Min Yoongi.

Granted, he had expected so from the very beginning. There was just something about the tattoo artist that continued to draw Jimin in the more they spent their time together. Each date would seem better than the last, and Jimin found himself more times than not planning out what the two could do on their next outing before the current one had even finished. But despite the unbridled amounts of joy they would experience together, there was something about Yoongi that had been on Jimin’s mind for quite some time now.

For one reason or another, the tattooer did not want to call him his ‘boyfriend’.

The pair had been exclusively seeing each other for a while now and had mutually enjoyed every single excursion they’d been on, but yet…nothing had been made official. Jimin was more than ready, but Yoongi – despite his normal air of nonchalance – seemed oddly hesitant. The florist had tried to subtly hint at his eagerness to be partners, but whenever any kind of ‘boyfriend’ or ‘lable’ conversation began to rear its ugly head, Yoongi was always quick to change the subject. Jimin had even tried asking Namjoon about it, hopeful that maybe the man’s ex-coworker could shed some light on his uncertainty, but all the other could offer was a shake of his head and an unsure-sounding ‘Yoongi is…just like that.’

Yoongi’s unwillingness, or perhaps tentativeness, to solidify their relationship had started to fill Jimin with anxiety and self-doubt. The longer this went on, the worse the feelings would get. There were many nights he’d lie awake second guessing if he was maybe too loud on their most recent date, or possibly too giddy, or too annoying…too anything that would make Yoongi not want to see him anymore. But, Yoongi would always call him the next day, ready to plan something else, or to even just talk. It would always leave Jimin feeling more confused by the end of it. It almost felt as if he was getting pulled in two different directions — the relief of Yoongi still wanting to see him on one side and the frustration of maybe not being good enough on the other.

Finally, Jimin had had enough. He was going to get an answer out of Yoongi one way or another. He owed it to himself. He wasn’t going to get strung along like all of the other times in his life.

Yoongi was going to make a decision whether he liked it or not, no matter the outcome.

Jimin stares out his shop’s window with his chin resting in his palm as the fingers of his free hand drum anxious melodies against the wood of his front counter. It’s raining outside, and the florist can see the fat water droplets draw indiscernible patterns as they trickle down the window pane. It has been raining for two days straight and, according to the weather forecast, would rain for at least three more. Jimin sighs. It was almost as if the weather outside could feel his own inner turmoil, the sky crying alongside him in chaotic solidarity.

He pushes himself away from the counter and heads over to the front door, locking it and flipping his sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’. Today had dragged on, and Jimin was both relieved and nervous when the clock had finally struck five.

He had been anxious all day, playing the conversation he wanted to have with Yoongi over and over on loop in his head. He dreaded the worst case scenario. Despite what he kept telling himself, he really wasn’t ready to possibly lose the other. He couldn’t bear the thought.

Letting out a shaky breath, Jimin pulls on his coat and slips on his shoes. He knew Yoongi would be at his tattoo parlour tonight, so that was where Jimin would head next. It was now or never.

As he pushes open the door and tumbles in, Jimin hears the words before he fully registers that Jungkook is resting stomach down on one of Yoongi’s tattoo beds.

“Oh shit, Yoongi — your boyfriend is here.”

He sees Yoongi glance over his shoulder towards him briefly before turning his focus back onto the half finished artwork on Jungkook’s back. If he was at all taken aback by Jungkook labelling him as “boyfriend” his face doesn’t show it.

“Hey.” He greets, and Jimin is barely able to make it out over the buzzing sound of his tattoo gun.

“Hey, sorry to bug you.” Jimin huffs as his soggy hair drips cold raindrops down his cheeks. “I knew you were working late so I thought I’d drop off some food. Hey, Gguk. There’s enough for you too, if you want.”

Jungkook makes an appreciative noise as he turns to Yoongi with mock surprise plastered on his face.

“Yoongiiiii, I would die for your boyfriend.”

There it is again, that word...boyfriend. It makes Jimin go ridgid, but why would Jungkook consider them anything else?

This time he sees Yoongi scoff slightly before deciding to speak up.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” He mumbles as he turns his attention back to Jimin, his expression unreadable. “Just put the bags on that table there.” He nods towards a small coffee table that sits in the corner of the room. “I’m a little busy right now.”

Jimin can see Jungkook’s eyes dart to him like a homing beacon. He’s waiting for a reaction, waiting to see if what Yoongi said was out of line or really the truth. Jimin doesn’t give it to him. He instead simply smiles tightly, nods, and sets the food down where Yoongi had instructed.

“It’s Chinese.” He murmurs. “Hopefully it’s okay.”

Yoongi hums instead of responding. He’s too focused on what he’s doing which Jimin finds both admirable as well as frustrating. Jungkook on the other hand seems ecstatic, which Jimin guesses he appreciates.

“You guys…almost done?” He questions as he wiggles out of his soggy jacket and kicks off his muddy shoes.

“Nearly.” Yoongi deadpans as Jimin slowly makes his way over to take a peek. From what he can see, Yoongi is etching one of his beautiful signature floral pieces into the other’s skin. The artist had already finished the line work and was now working on delicately shading each individual petal.

“Like it?” Jungkook asks, his smile growing when Jimin nods back. “I just let Yoongi do whatever he wanted this time. I’m glad he had some space for me today because I—”

The host is cut off as Yoongi suddenly sniffs sharply, lifting the tattoo gun from Jungkook’s back as he pushes himself away. Jimin can see him scrunch up his nose before he aggressively begins to rub it against his shoulder.

“All good?” Jungkook asks, glancing curiously over his shoulder to try and see why the tattoo artist has stopped.

“Ugh, yeah, just…fuck.” Yoongi suddenly snaps his attention to Jimin and the florist is surprised to see that he’s glaring. “Did you come straight from the shop?”

“I? Yes?” Jimin blinks, surprised by the sudden bite in Yoongi’s voice. “I mean I grabbed the Chinese before coming here, but I—”

He’s cut off by the artist aggressively waving him away.

“Look at you, your shirt’s covered in pollen. Ugh, you smell like a goddamn garden, Jimin, back up.”

Although taken aback by the other’s hostility, Jimin obeys without question and takes a deliberate step backward. He’s aware of Jungkook’s eyes once again locking onto him, clearly searching his face for any sign that Yoongi’s behaviour is perhaps abnormal, but again Jimin remains stoic.

“Why are you even—hh—hH’ISSHhhiuew!” Yoongi interrupts himself with a sneeze that he desperately tries to aim anywhere but towards his sanitised equipment. After the first comes a second, and then a third. Finally Yoongi swears loudly and slams his tattoo gun down onto his table, swivelling fast in his chair towards Jimin. “What are you doing here, Jimin.” His voice is like venom, but he becomes considerably less intimidating upon a gurgling sniffle. “I’m busy tonight. I told you that when you texted me yesterday.”

“I just needed to talk to you, Yoongi.” Jimin murmurs, “I knew you’d be here and I don’t mind waiting. Why don’t I just go sit in the lobby so I don’t—”

“Talk about what?” Yoongi cuts him off as he presses his nose against his tattooed forearm. “What could possibly be so urgent?”

For the first time since walking into the tattoo parlour, Jimin can feel his voice start to falter. Up until this moment Yoongi had never once before spoken to him in this tone, and frankly, the florist wasn’t sure what to make of it. He had expected Yoongi to get annoyed with him, granted, but to be annoyed even before the conversation he wanted to have began was making Jimin’s initial adrenaline start to sputter and fizzle out.

“I think I’d…rather talk in private.” He almost whispers, glancing towards Jungkook with mild embarrassment as the host looks back and forth between the two. “That’s why I don’t mind waiting. I’m sorry about this, Gguk…” he offers meekly, but the host quickly shakes his head and gestures that it’s fine. Despite this, Jimin can still tell that he feels uncomfortable — who wouldn’t?

“You came all of this way without warning, you’ve now interrupted my session, and on top of everything you’ve made my allergies flare up in the middle of a tattoo.” Yoongi scoffs, emphasising his last point with another wet sniffle as he pulls off his gloves, making Jimin wince. “So you might as well just say what you need to say so that I can blow my nose and get back to work.”

“Yoongi, I really—”

“Jimin, just get on with it.”

“But I just—”

“Listen, you’ve got about five seconds before I—”

“Yoongi, I need to talk to you about us!” Jimin blurts, instantly flushing red as he watches Yoongi’s mouth fall agape, his sentence abruptly dying on his tongue. Jungkook in turn buries his face into his hands, clearly wishing he could be anywhere else but here.

“…What?” Yoongi chokes, obviously taken aback.

“Us, Yoongi.” Jimin continues on, desperately trying to ignore the unexpected third person in the room. “I just…need to talk to you about us.”

To Jimin’s surprise, a light pink blush begins to spread across Yoongi’s cheeks.

“…What about us?”

“I just…” Jimin rakes a hand through his damp hair and allows himself a moment to search for the right words. Despite all of his attempts to prepare for this conversation he still doesn’t feel ready. “…I need you to tell me what I am to you.” He finally says, locking eyes with Yoongi as he does so. “I need to hear you say it.”

“And this couldn’t wait?”

“I’ve been waiting.” Jimin retorts, but the tone of his voice is starting to noticeably pitch up in desperation. “It’s been months, Yoongi.”

“And somehow you think the right time to bring this up to me is when I’m…when I’m in the middle of— HATSH’hhiuew!” Yoongi twists to the side and catches his sudden sneeze into cupped hands before he swears loudly once again. Jimin can see he’s getting visibly agitated at himself and the situation, but the florist isn’t ready to back down.

“I tried to tell you it could wait until you were finished, but you weren’t listening!” Jimin shouts back as thunder claps somewhere off in the distance.

“Why the hell does this matter so much to you?”

Because I’m falling in love with you!

Jimin bites down hard on his tongue and fights back the tears that are starting to well up in his eyes as his inner voice screams the words he’s too afraid to say. The silence that follows is loud and horrible, only being broken by the crashing sound of raindrops as they pelt wildly against the windows.

“Jimin,” Yoongi continues after a moment when it’s clear Jimin has nothing more to say. “I like you and I want to keep seeing you. Shouldn’t that be enough? Why do you want to label this so badly?”

The florist feels his cheeks grow hotter with a mix of rage and humiliation. The conversation was going absolutely nowhere and he nearly felt ready to rip his hair out. He opens his mouth to respond again, to maybe come up with some type of response that would somehow magically show Yoongi exactly why it felt so important to him, but instead he’s cut off by a sudden interjection from Jungkook.

“Um,” the host starts, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “I know this is probably bad timing, but…are we going to eat that Chinese food, or…?”

The other two stare blankly at him in pure dumbfoundment. Sensing this, Jungkook merely nods in understanding and resumes his futile attempt to disappear. Yoongi is the first to speak back up, but thanks to Jungkook there is considerably less tension permeating the air around them.

“Jimin,” he sighs, and Jimin can see the man’s eyes visibly darken.

The same eyes that he could see oceans in, the eyes he’d get lost in, the eyes he’s grown to love…Jimin dreads what’s to come next.

“I think you’d better leave.”

The bluntness of Yoongi’s words cut into him like a hot knife through butter. He purses his lips and nods, doing everything in his power to fight the continued urge to cry. He feels stupid, regretful, and unbelievably embarrassed. He’d really thought that Yoongi was someone special, someone different, someone he could truly see himself loving for years to come. He was devastated to realize that wasn’t the case.

Without another word Jimin heads to the door. He pulls on his now chilly, damp jacket, slips into his water-logged shoes as fast as he can, and rips open the door. The violent rain wastes no time slamming against him like a thousand tiny bee stings as the hot summer storm rages with no sign of letting up.

Blinded by an indecipherable mixture of his own tears and the pouring rain, Jimin can’t help but immediately lose his footing on the steps outside of Yoongi’s shop. He tries to catch himself, reaching out dramatically for the railing to his side, but it’s too late.

The florist tumbles to the ground and lands hard onto his right wrist with a horrifically gory sounding crunch.

Hot searing pain shoots through Jimin’s joint like lightning. The agonizing tendrils reach all the way down to his elbow and up the very tips of each of his fingers. He cries out involuntarily and the sound he makes is shrill and animalistic. He barely even recognizes it as his own voice.

It feels almost as if he's been punched in the gut; he gasps for air greedily through his now gritted teeth but it never feels like enough. He sees spots and his head swims. Any attempt he makes to move his wrist is met by unimaginable amounts of sharp, protesting pain and he knows without a doubt that he’s broken it.

The florist grits his teeth harder still, whimpers, and awkwardly tries to cradle his now broken wrist. He swallows thickly at the misshapen sight of it and starts to feel woozy. He desperately tries to will away the cloudiness that starts nipping at the edges of his consciousness — he had never been good with pain and this time was clearly no different, if not worse, and now Jimin was almost certain that he was going to pass out.

Suddenly the door of the tattoo studio flies open and out rushes Yoongi with Jungkook hot on his heels.

The men rush down the stairs carefully and are on Jimin in a second, but the florist can barely register their presence. He’s able to hear Yoongi ask him if he’s okay, but it’s muffled and low. Jimin can’t respond, he can only gasp.

“Emergency services, what’s the location of your emergency?”

Jimin blinks up at Yoongi, his eyelids starting to feel heavy. He can see Yoongi barking his shop’s address into his cellphone, but everything is starting to feel much slower than normal. He vaguely registers Jungkook trying to help him sit up as rain pours down around them.

“Alright sir, and what seems to be the problem?”

Jimin realizes that Yoongi’s phone is on speaker as the blonde quickly begins assisting Jungkook.

“Hi, yeah, we need an ambulance. Fuck. His wrist is broken really badly. I think he slipped down the stairs? Fuuuuck, how long will it take?”

Jimin can hear the rising panic in Yoongi’s voice as his vision begins to blur around the edges.

“We have paramedics on route, sir. What is your relation to the injured?”

“My boyfriend.” Yoongi chokes out. “He’s my boyfriend. Shit, please just hurry, I think he’s passing out.”

“They’re on their way, sir. I need you to stay with him until they get there, okay?”

Jimin can feel Yoongi carefully pull him into his lap as he speaks, but he can’t hear what the other is saying anymore. It sounds too muffled and too far away, almost as if he were drowning thousands of feet underwater whereas Yoongi was somewhere safe on dry land.

He blinks one more time, one last in vain effort to try and stay conscious as Yoongi leans his upper body over him, shielding him from the rain and speaking more words that Jimin just can’t make out. He wishes he could stay present, hear Yoongi, assure him that he would be fine, but it was fruitless. He knew himself, and at this point there was nothing he could do to stop the darkness from enveloping him like a wet weighted blanket.

As Jimin finally lets himself succumb to blissful unconsciousness, his mind explodes into images of intricate and colourful floral patterns before everything fades away. The last thing he registers is the feeling of a gentle kiss being placed on his forehead as the wail of a far-off siren fights to slice its way through the thick summer storm.

#AHHH IM SO SCARED TO POST LOL #I’m doing this on mobile so I am hoping and praying it posts correctly #god I hope you guys like this #I’m so worried my writing may’ve suffered in my absence and just ufgggjdjssks #but what can you do #allergic!yoongi #bts whump #mine #bts sickfic #Tw injury #yoonmin #bts au #sorry that I made them fight LOL #bts snzfic #kind of if you squint heehee #bear with me I’ll update my fic masterpost when I get on my laptop later #bts snz

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snifflyjoonie · 10 months

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red-eye flight

I still haven’t gotten a chance to edit the jikook college au fic yet, so I’m posting this very unedited very gratuitous drabble that I may or may not have written in my head on the airplane to go see yoongi last week instead

businessmen taehyung and jungkook au: jungkook crying + rhinitis + snz, taehyung caretaker kinda?

Taehyung owes his boss a really nice bottle of wine for always springing for first class seats. He’s tired– tired of wearing a suit, tired of giving presentations he could have given from home, and just straight up tired– and he’s more than ready to get home and change into sweatpants and sleep for the next week.

As he stows his bag in the overhead bin, he glances at the man who’s in the window seat next to him. The man is very handsome, with long, wavy dark hair, and he’s dressed similarly to Taehyung, in slacks and a button-up shirt. He gives off extreme businessman vibes, and Taehyung is grateful because that usually means he won’t get bothered during the flight.

Taehyung pulls his tablet and earphones out and settles into his seat. As soon as the plane is in the air and his ears are done popping due to the pressure change, he pulls up his tv show to watch on his tablet. He taps the play button and leans back, stretching his legs out in front of him. A few minutes into the show, he gets the sense that someone is watching him, and he carefully shifts his eyes the slightest bit to the right until he can see the long-haired man next to him. He’s surprised to see that the man isn’t looking at him, but at his tablet screen, his big eyes wide with interest.

“Want to watch with me?” He asks, and the man looks a bit startled.

“Oh.” The man looks at him for a moment, eyes round as saucers, and then a smile breaks out over his face. “Sure, I would love to!”

Taehyung pulls the earbud from his right ear and hands it over, and the man happily puts it in his ear, still grinning.

The drama is a particularly sad one, and by the end of the episode, Taehyung is biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from crying. He blinks hard and then looks over at his seatmate. He’s surprised to see the man leaning close with his chin resting in one hand, elbow propped up on the armrest, tears streaming openly down his face.

“That was so sad,” the man says when he catches Taehyung looking. “And so beautiful.” He sniffles wetly, pulling the earbud out of his ear and handing it back to Taehyung. “Thank you for letting me watch with you.”

The man sits back in his seat and uses his hand to wipe the tears from his eyes, and then he drags the back of his hand under his nose, sniffling again. His nose is bright pink and his eyes are big and watery and red-rimmed. He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them again a big, fat tear rolls down his cheek, sliding down his face and along his jawline until he reaches up to wipe it away with his thumb.

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, dragging his eyes away from where he can see more tears welling up in the man’s eyes. “Yeah, it’s a sad one. I think the next episode is gonna be rough.”

The man sniffles again and pulls the sleeve of his button-up over his fingers before bringing it up to dab at his still-teary eyes. He doesn’t seem to care about the dark, damp spot that forms on the fabric.

When Taehyung hears him sniffle yet again, he digs through his bag for a travel pack of tissues, which he offers to the man with a smile.

“Thank you,” the man says, looking a little sheepish.

He carefully opens the pack and pulls two tissues out, folding them neatly in half before holding them over his nose to blow. As soon as he’s done blowing his nose, his head bobs forward with a sneeze– the sound of it is entirely too fucking cute for a sneeze, of all things– and then when his head is already down, he tucks his face into his elbow and aims two more adorable sounding sneezes into his sleeve.

“Bless,” Taehyung offers, trying not to coo. He’s a little jealous, to be honest, because his own sneezes are outrageously loud and not at all cute.

The man nods in acknowledgement, blinking rapidly, and the sniffles again. “Ugh, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Taehyung says, relaxing back against his seat when he realizes he’s been leaning forward and slightly towards the man. “Please, use all the tissues you need.”

The man’s face flushes at Taehyung’s words, but he nods again. “Thank you. I promise I’m not sick, by the way. My rhinitis just gets really bad when…when…”

He trails off, unable to finish his sentence as his lips part and his eyelashes flutter. Through eyes that he can barely keep open, he looks down at the pack of tissues in his hands, his fingers scrambling at the package like he’s intending to pull one out, but he quickly gives up on that when his breath hitches dangerously in warning of another sneeze– or, as it turns out, three more sneezes, which he hastily aims into the crook of his elbow.

“Bless,” Taehyung says.

“Thanks,” the man replies quietly, cheeks pink as he manages to free another tissue.

They sit in relative silence for a few moments, until the man sniffles wetly and then twists toward the window, bringing his sleeve up to his face.

Taehyung notices that he sneezes three times again– two small quiet sneezes and then a third, more forceful sneeze that makes the man shake his head ever so slightly, as if he’s trying to shake the irritation right out of his sinuses.

“Bless, bless, bless,” Taehyung says, starting to feel a little concerned at the frequency with which the man is sneezing all of a sudden. “Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters in response, scrubbing at his nose.

“It’s alright, I really don’t mind.” Taehyung offers a smile. “I’m Taehyung, by the way,” he says, hoping to ease the man’s embarrassment just a little by switching topics.

“Jeon Jungkook,” the man replies, returning Taehyung’s smile.

“Well, Jungkook, I do have more tissues in my bag. Please let me know if you’d like them.”

“I have a nasal spray. I should probably try to take that,” Jungkook sighs, his shoulders slumping.

“By all means,” Taehyung says, holding his palms up. “Do whatever you need!”

Taehyung respectfully keeps his eyes forward while Jungkook grabs a small bottle of nasal spray from his carry on, but he can’t help just watching a little bit out of his peripheral. First, Jungkook blows his nose again, very quietly and very slowly. Then, he sprays the bottle into one nostril, then the other, inhaling through his nose as he does. He tucks the knuckle of his forefinger up under his nose immediately after, using one hand to cap the spray and then trying to pull out another tissue, and Taehyung realizes he’s trying to keep himself from sneezing when he glances over and sees Jungkook’s chest heaving.

Jungkook switches to pinching his nose lightly, and then balls the tissue he finally manages to pull free up and shoves it under his nose, holding it against his quivering nostrils and breathing slowly, and slightly shakily, through his mouth. His chest rises and falls quickly like he’s breathing heavily after a workout for a minute, and then eventually his breathing slows and he lets out a small sigh.

“I’m impressed,” Taehyung comments. “If you sprayed something up my nose I’d immediately be sneezing my brains out.”

A sudden, slightly strained laugh bursts out of Jungkook, and then he quickly pinches his nose again, eyes widening slightly.

“Not gonna lie, I’m impressed too,” he replies, voice sounding funny through his plugged nose. “Half the time I sneeze it out and have to do it all over again.”

Taehyung cringes in sympathy. “Oh, that sounds awful.”

Jungkook shrugs and chuckles a little. “I’m used to it, I guess.”

“So,” Taehyung says, leaning toward Jungkook as if to share a secret. “Do you think it’s a bad idea if we watch the next episode?” He asks, gesturing toward his tablet, and Jungkook laughs and holds his hand out for an earbud.

“No, I think it’s a great idea,” he says, and the two of them fix their eyes on the screen, prepared to cry together through the next forty-three minutes.

#I’m obsessed with this!#bts au #bts sickfic #allergic!jungkook

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