Yoongi Our 65 Nonchalant Dread Head

yoongi our 6’5 nonchalant dread head😍😍😍

minted (explicit) | myg

title: minted (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , suspense , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: this series may not be for everyone, language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, tension, slow burn, choking, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, slight e2l, fight sequences, multiple future explicit scenes, yoongi deserves his own warning, chains but who is ever ever shocked, graphic depictions of violence drop date: august 5th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.4k aiyaaa✌ mood playlist: here

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Ever since you could remember, gang activity in your town has run unchecked. 

Anything goes. Rough fights out of nowhere, car chases busting streets, or even random delinquents snatching food on the run, dust kicking up onto stock they left behind. 

And out of all the districts, yours is begrudgingly the second worst. 

Why? You still aren’t completely sure. But you do know that the darkest is reserved for the underbelly that only slithers in rumors. A place in which you will never find yourself. 

But you do wonder what must happen there to warrant the winning title because each day here is a battle to keep yourself afloat. 

All you do is sell fruit. Why are you fighting for your life every week? Why can’t you exchange goods for money in peace? If you could compare it to the movies you grew up watching on an outdated television, it’s a grungy reflection of the wild west.

But through all the shit you’ve chosen to endure, at least one person is always kind enough to buy his wares and go.

And today is no different.

You still don’t know his name. But you yearn to. Because his hair is the color of magic and rebellion, and his tattoos really set off that bright mop of locks. 

If those lethal, piercing eyes weren’t enough.

When he lifts three long digits, it takes all your strength to nod and get his purchase together. This is the part that never changes, either.

Just like always. One, three, or five fingers for tangerines. Never two, never four, and never any other fruits. 

It’s charming, in a way. As if he’s more particular than most about what he wants—a trait elusive to many.

Like clockwork, you would hand his order over in thin plastic, and he would walk away to hitch a ride on a passing cart. Just like he does right now with a lazy gait, white tee billowing from his jeans. 

Another day. Another exchange.

In the wavy heat of summer, you sigh. Wondering if anything is ever going to change, and if you would ever get to know more about your most frequent, most mysterious patron.

After a while, you do try talking to him. 

Those looks of confusion slowly turn into little hums or grunts, then into single words that keep you going for days. Even though you rarely hear it, his voice is just as attractive as he is. 

One day, you offer him a plantain, handing it over and telling him it’s on the house. 

“Thanks,” he says amongst the clinks and conversations of the street, pocketing the food away. 

When he does, you see a flash of black metal, and you already know what he’s carrying. You’re used to seeing all sorts of those around nowadays. In this district, you’d be shocked if he didn’t have an arsenal on his person while traveling through.

Besides. Even you have a couple collecting dust in your own flat, handed down by extended family but never used.

“If you ever need anything other than tangerines,” you start with a point to his pants, “Please buy those instead.” 

He’s unmoving. Blinks are all you get so you have no choice but to explain,

“I’m so tired of eating them with everything.” 

When he huffs in amusement, your heart flutters thrice. There’s no reason for a sheen of sweat and sticky mint locks to be so deadly. 

“Then eat something else,” is all the stranger advises before walking off. 

Well.

Even though you don’t have much of a choice, the guy does have a point. You wouldn’t be shocked in the slightest if his aim’s just as straightforward as his wit.

Once one exchange lasts longer than a sentence, the two of you start little conversations during his visits. Which prove more fatal than normal since he’d rest his tattoos on the top shelf of your cart. 

From what you can make out, there are creatures stretching in beautiful teal and vivid orange, and even striking white on his other arm. They ripple so well with his veins, a canvas that sways and hypnotizes with every drum of his fingers. 

You know what they symbolize, though it’s unique to have all of them together. 

Taboo, even. 

But you can’t hold back your admiration because of the sheer beauty. What would they feel like if you just… 

“You always stare this long?”

Shit. “Oh, sorry. I just… I rarely see anyone’s ink up close.”

To your dismay, he takes his arm back. “I don’t have a lot of time today, princess.”

“Right, sorry. Hold on,” you respond, cringing hard at blurting two apologies in a ten second span. 

Meanwhile, your way too handsome regular cocks a brow, clearly comfortable making you squirm as you hand over his bag. 

Effortless. In your chaotic life, It’s almost intoxicating feeling someone this resolute in their whole demeanor. If only you could be so commanding and assured one day. 

But here you stand instead, pretending to count fruit you one hundred percent know the stock of already. “Your art is really nice, by the way,” you admit to your inventory. “All the high-powers. I like what you picked.”

“Didn’t choose these.”

Ah. Way to assume things. 

Raising your head, you make to apologize a third time.

But he’s already retreating with his tangerines, hand stuffed in a pocket and beautiful waves a little less vibrant than you recall. 

“What.” 

“I worry sometimes.” 

His gaze lifts. “About me?” 

“Yeah.” 

You don’t know why you choose to say that of all things. But it’s honest. You always wonder about him and think about the weapon in his jeans. Does he use it? Does he ever need to? 

Maybe you should pick up a hobby or two.

Fingers resting dangerously close, he asks with a tilt of his head, “What would you do, doll? If something happened to someone like me.” 

Someone like him? What does that mean? 

Great. Now you have even more to wonder about, as if he knew that was your exact predicament.

You stare, roaming along his arms before meeting his eyes—almost. “Find someone else to buy my tangerines.” 

Huffing, his brows tick up with his mouth. “I respect that.” His attention doesn’t leave your face as he slowly takes his purchase. “See ya.” 

“Bye,” you whisper back, watching him go. More thoughts and concerns bouncing around your mind in the sticky heat of midday. 

These little nicknames he’s using also aren’t helping your issue in the slightest. 

It starts when you hear shouting from a block down.

“Here they come!”

“Bunch of idiots this time.”

“What do you mean this time?”

Rough raiders this early? They should know it’s almost time for Dragon’s sweep. Bold.

After you hear the telltale yells, clanks, and bangs, your section of the street braces for impact. 

And it swoops in like a whirlwind, ruffians tearing through, pillaging and stealing and swiping goods into thick woven baskets. 

Baskets? The usual suspects always carry leather bags. You assume because of their sturdiness and inconspicuous nature, but what do you really know.

Here it goes again. 

As your fruit is taken right from your cart, you sink to your toes, mourning the regular loss of your menu.

No use fighting. Like every other time, you all let it happen because there’s no point in trying to protect anything that isn’t valuable. Perishables and small homemade goods aren’t worth getting gutted over. Truly, the worst losses you suffer are when—

Your cart shifts violently before thieves topple it over, cracking one of your wheels and splitting the wooden boards in three places.

Springing to your feet, you douse the perpetrators in anger, “What the hell!”

“Oh, this was yours?” Someone chides while his cronies run past. “Thanks for the oranges, love!”

“They’re tangerines!” you correct at his retreating back, kicking your cart before yelping at your bad decision. “Damn it…”

Back to your knees you go. Head drooping, arms encircling, and disappointment pooling around like a shadow.

More shouts and feet in the road rampage through. Then it gets quieter. And quieter. 

Then it’s done.

After silence swells in the wake of chaos, groans start making their way down the street. 

“What’d they get from you this time,” you ask your neighbor, a charming old man selling anything from bowls to wide, round frying pans. 

Looking over his little wreckage, he blinks hard. “They got my woks. Nothing as bad as yours. You okay?” 

Walking over to help clean his mess up first, you bend down with a sigh, “I’ll be alright. But it still sucks.. My poor tangerines..” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Not much to do about it now,” you resign, all your energy taken from you, too. 

A little bit of time passes as you complete your usual round of help, though this raid was worse than others. As they all give their thanks, you keep thinking about how to make the whole situation better. Moreso for them than you because you’ve always been one of the least vulnerable ones on the block.

“You should find another place to sell, dear.” 

In disagreement, you slip into a saddened smile. “I can’t leave you guys,” you explain to the lady you’re holding pails for. “Who will help clean everything up?” 

“Don’t underestimate your elders now.” 

“Fair,” you respond through a chuckle, handing her one of the metal buckets. “If only better protection was an option around here.”

“You know the rules,” another shop owner drones through lingering spices, “Dragon won’t protect us if it isn’t in their own interests.” 

Unfortunately, he’s right. Every single raid that hasn’t coincided with a gang sweep goes overlooked. Even the city police don't bother coming down your street anymore, which is another issue in itself.

If only Tiger or Crane had been the high-powers in place instead. 

At least they seem to be more fair.

After you finish helping, you finally venture back to your own cart, realizing that the trek is a lot further than you thought. 

Did you really walk so far this time? The damage was dealt for much more than a block at this point. 

Not like you need to sprint back, though. What’s left to steal? Everything you got swept into those woven containers.

Still so odd…

But not as odd as the sight that greets you on your return. 

Because instead of seeing your wreckage of a cart tilted and abysmal, it’s upright and being mended.

By none other than your favorite set of hands.  

What the hell? What’s he doing here? You quite literally have nothing to give so there’s no reason for him to spare a second at your broken stand. 

Fast-walking, you hastily try to halt his help, “Oh, shit, you don’t have to—” 

“Course I don’t.” 

That shuts you up. In your split second of silence, you note with agony that his hair is messily tied in a minted bun. Are his sleeves bunched at his biceps, too? Great. What were you even telling him again? 

Ah, yes. You were telling this mystery of a man that he doesn’t have to literally put your stand back together. “Seriously, I got it.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” 

“But it’s my cart, I don’t need your—”

With one look over his shoulder, your mouth snaps shut. And suddenly can’t move to argue again. 

What the hell is up with today? 

Forget all that. What’s he doing? At least you’re familiar with all the shop owners and vendors on your block, though you can’t say you wouldn’t do the same thing for someone you don’t know. But this guy has always been so standoffish and barely approachable. So how is he lending both hands to help you right now? 

Whatever. If he’s gonna be as stubborn as this heat, you can be, too. 

Scanning the area for scattered tools, you find a sun-warmed hammer and get to work, fixing one end of the cart while he works on the other. When you feel his gaze on your working shoulder, it takes massive strength to ignore him—even if you wanna know what his issue is and why he smells really, really good this afternoon.

Looks like you need more nails for this board to fit. When your eyes find a couple on the ground, you clinch a second piece between your teeth while hammering in the first. 

Sounds stop at your side, but you wait until you pluck the metal nail from your mouth and stamp it in to look over.

Oh. He’s eyeing the hammer. Not you. Obviously. 

You wordlessly hand it over, arm slicked with exertion. Because after the day you’ve had, you don’t feel like everything needs a spoken sentence attached. 

It takes the guy a bit to take it from you, but when he does, he holds your stare. “Thanks.” 

You simply nod, eyes sticking to him as he works on the tattier side wait it looks almost new. Better than it has in a very long time. Did he really get that much done in the time you were gone? There’s been great care taken during his repair if that’s the case.  

Hmm. You finally learn something about your favorite customer. Maybe he’s just been a mechanic or carpenter this whole time? 

Contemplative, you get up on sore legs to walk to your cooler—something thankfully missed by the rough raiders. Digging through the clinkage, you retrieve a local beer you recently procured from the restaurant across the street. 

It’s not much. Absolute bottom shelf. But it’s all you got other than a few pieces of oni-coin, so he’s gonna have to deal with it.

When you offer the glass, your regular eyes it for a moment. More than enough time for you to get a good look at his striking floral top.

Well. Mechanic and carpenter are out of the question because that one piece of clothing looks more expensive than your entire apartment building.

Who even is this guy? Now you feel destitute handing him something so cheap.

Just when you think he’s gonna refuse, he takes the beer and smoothly shucks it open, suddenly making you wonder how a bracelet can do that and why it was so attractive.

God. You need to walk straight to the nearest inlet stream and dunk your head right in.

“Thank you,” you whisper, gulping at his full swigs. “You really didn’t have to do all this.” 

“Got some time to kill,” he shrugs. Standing, the man takes another sip, peering along the street with sunlit eyes. With the bottle near his mouth, he murmurs, “You really need to set up somewhere else, doll. This street’s turning into a hot spot.” 

Squinting up at the long lines of clothes and curtains floating in the breeze, you sigh at the building nearest. “I live close,” you sulk. “And this is the easiest place to get to.” 

Those are excuses. Just tell him the real reason you won’t venture out and plop yourself somewhere more profitable. Well, maybe not all of the reasons, but the main one. 

Leaning back on your cart, you stare at the loose dirt, swiping some with your shoes. “Maybe I’m just used to it at this point.” 

He won’t respond. Or he’ll respond in his own way, which is mostly silence. 

But a bright strand falls over his face before he hums, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Many people have warned you at this point. It’s basically your stubborn and spiteful nature that’s making you stay in the first place. Why would you move when you chose to be here? Why leave a place you actively choose to call home? 

Fighting spirit quelled, you nod right to your stand as you count what’s salvageable. “I know, but I like it here.” When he lifts an unbelieving brow, you look away. “It’s true. But trust me, if there was a way to just make it all stop, I’d take it.” 

He takes another swig, both of you looking into the street and watching things slowly get back to normal pace. Adults and kids alike are back to wandering around, buying what’s left and offering condolences. 

“I’m not fixing another cart,” your patron turned repairman grunts, motioning to your wheel as he steps back. “So don’t fuck this one up.” 

Huh? It wasn’t your fault! All the accidents and chaos that blow through aren’t something you can control oh he’s grinning. Why is he grinning? Why do you feel hot all over? 

His teeth shine in daylight. “I’m messing with you.” 

Ah. 

This version of him is not good for you at all.

When he starts to walk away, you blurt out a quick, “Wait!” 

Shit! Why did you do that? What are you possibly supposed to say right now? All you wanted was to see him a little longer… And while staring at his backside would be more than enough, you kinda wanted to actually talk. 

What do you do? He stopped; he’s waiting. 

And he looks impatient as hell. 

Snapping into action, you round your cart and trot over, offering your name as if you didn’t just give up where you lived. 

Then—without thinking—you ask for his with the most curious, innocent, “What’s yours?” 

Silence has never been so booming.

In the dusty swirls of your street, you wait with a back that’s getting sweatier and colder with each passing second. 

Was that not okay to ask? Did you fuck up with a single question? 

Perfect. You just blew your one good thing about being out here. Wincing, you crush your words so hard you think your teeth will break into dust, drifting off into the very breeze wafting his striking locks. 

After a condescending puff, he only smirks.

Then he takes one step. And another. And another.

The air around you melts, weighing on your shoulders while lighting them aflame all at once. It’s a feeling you can’t describe to anyone else, because they would just need to stand next to this man to believe it. 

Checking to see if the street is clear, your best customer leans over. Slowly. Purposefully. “Yoongi,” he offers with a voice so handsome you’ll think about it for days. “But don’t fucking tell anyone.” 

Oh. 

Why did… you kinda like that? 

Blinking, you swallow. “I won’t.” 

This is when he’s supposed to just leave. He’d walk away, bag swinging with his strides. But ever keeping you on your sore toes, the man just chuckles low before rasping out the most devilish sentence in existence, 

“Always took you for a good girl.”

Then he backs away, turning on his heel and leaving you a statue in the street.

Yoongi. 

For a hardened soul, his name is so… 

Tender. 

For the next sixty days, you don’t get ransacked once. 

But there’s also been no sight of Yoongi. 

As the weeks trudge by, you can’t decide which outcome is worse.

The skies are magnificent today. But obviously at a molten price.

“Thank you for trying,” you say to a lovely wares owner before venturing back out into simmering streets. Exhaling, you wipe sweat from your brow, squinting before choosing to walk left or right. 

Left seems promising. 

You’ve been searching for hours now, perusing through shops, checking out vendors both nice and catty. But after a whole day’s search, you still haven’t found what you’re looking for. 

It’s nothing urgent or pressing. But you would at least like to be prepared. 

Since your initial mission is a bust, hopefully your next one makes up for it before you melt right into gravel and dirt.

Find a meal.

Walking along the busy roads, you pass a few options and keep them in mind, making sure to greet a fellow tangerine cart vendor with a smile. Hopefully they do well today.

A couple steps further, a giant cooler catches your eye. Seafood of all types lie inside along cubes of ice, and you weigh the pros and cons of smelling like fish just to have a cool head.

But before you can make any choices, the smell of spices and hearty soup softly pull your feet inside the restaurant nearby. 

What’s here? Noodles? You’re always down for that. Apparently even in scorching weather.

After ordering, you take your seat at a random middle table in a chair facing the entrance. 

Always facing the entrance.

Damn. You really need to accomplish what you set out to do. But sunset is fast approaching these days, and you aren’t anywhere close to home. All you have time for now is eating and heading out. 

The service here is quick, at least. You’re already thanking the owner for sliding a bowl in front of your sweaty form. 

With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down. 

Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back by now, freshly showered and curling up on a worn down bed. 

But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months. 

Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching sliced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth. 

At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the… 

Ambiance. 

Wait. 

Dragons. A lot of them. 

You can’t pull your eyes away from the crew walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun in their eyes and donning their telltale, striking teal. 

But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that truly has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass. 

…Yoongi? 

His jacket. The colors.

He’s in Dragon?

Suddenly his hair makes terrifying sense.

As his guys stalk through, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do with this harrowing information. There are so many thoughts overlapping each other that they all amalgamate into one huge batch of sludge. 

Aren’t you smack dab in Crane territory? There’ve been white suits peppering the streets everywhere. 

So what the hell is Dragon doing here?

From the slight confusion pinching his forehead, you know Yoongi didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers. 

Hold on, what—

“What are you—”

A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past. 

All of them waste no time tearing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending with gritty paint and smoke. 

And just like that, your reunion is over. 

Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—

A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling. 

Shit. 

Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company. 

Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often? 

Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.

Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time. 

Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here? 

With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side. 

Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase. 

Shit shit shit this is so stupid. This is probably the worst decision you’re gonna make in your life.

But your gut is churning thinking about Yoongi. Even a seasoned swordsman needs expertise to wield mere chopsticks and win. 

Fuck, if you succeeded in your search today, you probably could’ve been a little more useful. 

Swiping your own set of red from a nearby cup, you hightail it up, slowing as you round a corner and immediately hear multiple clangs and scuffles beyond the last turn.

Stop. You can go back. You can still turn around and go home.

An inhale.

Your feet propel you up and into a dark hall. As you slowly slide along the wall, your gut churns and churns. At a bang, you crouch with a skipped beat of your heart.

This is really, really dumb. But you can’t stop yourself and you have no clue why.

Nothing happens around you. So you keep going. With each careful slide of your foot, you get closer and closer to the noise.

Approaching the corner, you very slowly stick your head out for a peek.

And it’s pure commotion. Pure chaos. Holy shit, what is going on? 

Fuck, there’s already a body lying limp on the floor meters away—

Your chopsticks. You wanna hurl.

But a man flies out of a room ahead before he grips and wrestles with another, and you reel yourself back to avoid being seen by either one.

Where is Yoongi? Is he okay? Did he leave already?

You give one more peek, scanning the long raucous corridor as swift as you can to see any sign of.. Mint.

He’s still here. How’s he just walking so nonchalant as his crew fucks shit up? Crap, he just went into a room and out of sight. 

“Where’d they go?”

“Upstairs!”

Fuck, that was in the restaurant! Get up get up you have no choice but to hide now. 

With pounding steps, you rush forward and book it, entering a large room to dive behind some steel shelving and large, woven baskets right as more Dragons come in behind with fists clenched.

Breathe. Steady. Calm the fuck down.

The grunts rush to the hallway to join the fray, and you wait in the now pungent solitude of your room. With only a still body to accompany you. 

What do you do? What even can you do? 

Just as nerves grip your stomach like a vice, Yoongi strides into the open area, heading right for the exit and not even sparing his kill a glance. 

Go. Go now. Why can’t you move? Why aren’t your hands letting go of your cold confinement? It smells like death and blood and you need to leave with the only person you know—or don’t—so why can’t your feet just fucking—

Someone else slithers into the room. A man in brown with a knife. A knife, a knife, a knife he’s getting faster and Yoongi doesn’t hear him the guy is too quiet fuck! “Yoongi!” 

It all happens before your brain can paint the bloody picture. Shooting out from your hiding spot, you race towards the assassin, slamming into their lanky build just in time.  

Both of you topple to the ground, your target roaring in pain and twisting like hell to fight back fuck you didn’t get him how you needed to he’s got you—

Pain erupts in your hip as you’re grabbed, the room spinning as you’re thrown to the side and your ear hitting concrete right before chopsticks ping down. Thinking quick, you knee the guy as hard as you can, scrambling to finish the job because if you don’t, you’re gone gone gone.

“Bitch!” Your opponent clutches your shirt right as you reach for the nearest red pair, seizing your throat right as you grip and swing them around to stab the other side of his neck with a yell.

Luckiest timing of your life. 

“Hng!” Fuck, he’s still holding down hard and choking, choking, squeezing. “Fuck you!” 

Fight back. Keep the weapon inside he’s too strong finish him finish him. 

Darkness. Ink drops in water. Your vision taints as your grip loosens, and you can only hope that Yoongi got away safe. He had to. At least you… Were able to do… 

This one thing… 

…

Oxygen and life rush back into your lungs, color burning through your esophagus as you gasp for sweet sweet air. Right as you come to, all you witness is the heavy heel of a boot twisting the forearm latched onto you. 

And when the shoe leaves your vision. Lifeless eyes stare back.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck that was close. Oh god. You actually did it. Oh fuck. 

Coughing, you rush up as you get tugged and pulled right against chains and embroidery, your ears ringing with a gravelly command and glass breaking in the nearby corridor,

“Don’t say my fuckin’ name so loud.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Yoongi roughly lets you go before pinning you with pure anger. Not to say thank you. Not to tell you any words of gratitude at all. The only other thing he finds the need to say is simply, 

“You shouldn’t be up here.” 

What the fuck. You just murdered someone for him and this is all you get? Eyes welling, you feel your body slick and sticky with crimson when you turn, coughing and spitting out regret before you wheeze, wheeze, wheeze, “That’s—that’s all you have to say?” 

Dread swirls around your stomach like poison.

But the sternness from before completely vanishes as Yoongi lifts your chin. His eyes scan your throat and chest, and you rip your head away from his touch because he is not excused just yet. 

“It’s not mine,” you snap, knowing exactly what he’s looking for and what you must look like to him. Dirty. Gross. Certainly a far image from the girl selling tangerines.

But your face is gently held again, and somehow this softer turn carries more strength to swivel you forward. 

Why is Yoongi still looking? Now he’s holding your gaze as if he’s never seen you before. What’s that about? You’re still the same, the same, the same.

…Are you?

More crashes and shots are heard down the hall, and Yoongi snaps his head up in an instant. 

God, you smell. You reek. Your nose is tainted and your hands even more so. There’s no way he’s gonna have anything to do with you now. 

But you get the shock of the century when the man commands you to come along. “Let’s go.” 

Absolutely not. This is all you got in you for a lifetime. “What? No, no, no. No way, I’m going home.”

“And they’ll follow you the whole way back.” 

“I—I didn’t mean to—” 

Shots ring out before grunts barrel out into the short hallway. All of them piling out from crevasses and hidden passages. 

You give one more look at the two men now crumpled on the ground, bile rising up and threatening to spill. 

“Tough shit, princess. You did, now live with it.” 

Live with it. How poetic. 

You were protecting him. You did what you had to do. But you have blood on your hands again and now Yoongi will see you as something else besides a fucking street vendor. 

“Are you coming or not?”

You’re gonna puke your guts out.

With a stilted cry, you bend to snatch your weapons up yet again—gagging at the squelches and much deeper red—before following Yoongi’s long steps. 

Your hands. They’re shaking so bad you can’t even pocket the chopsticks properly. But you finally get them down, crushing your palms and squeezing just to stop them from rattling. 

When you wait behind Yoongi checking the corner, you turn around to make sure you aren’t being followed. And seeing the hallway still a moving mass of broken glass and hard swings, you think you’re safe. 

The stairs feel so different on the way down. Is that because you feel completely changed? There’s no coming back from this. Another side of you died right alongside those two people upstairs. 

No time to think about that. You have to follow his lead. And he’s slowing down why is he slowing down? 

Oh. Normal. Be normal to not garner suspicion. You have to do the same. 

Wait. You can’t go down there with a shirt full of stained evidence! Grabbing him and pulling back, you whisper, “Yoongi—”

His growl is so fierce your head spins, “What the fuck did I say about my n—”

“My clothes,” you panic. “I can’t.” 

Yoongi gives you a quick look before gripping the duffle strap. Brows lowered, he grits out while dumping it, “Lose the shirt.” 

“What?” 

“Do it.” 

“Where’d he go?”

“It’s gone!”

Your heads snap up before you lock eyes. And he doesn’t need to say anything to show you what he’s thinking behind those minted bangs.

As you hastily strip, your brain works in weird ways. Instead of processing how you very much need to hurry the fuck up, you lament the bra of choice today. And how sweaty you look. Because of course those are your thoughts of choice right now. 

Something’s dumped on you before your shirt hits the ground, and you think about its warmth before you realize exactly what’s on your shoulders. “You sure?” 

He’s already heading down. Oh god. You’re really putting this on shit shit shit. 

You’re quick to slip into the material before checking for your chopsticks, rushing down the rest of the stairs to meet him. Nerves firing on all cylinders, you follow Yoongi out of the restaurant with a single, disturbing thought. 

This is going too well. 

But you’re passing tables, you’re walking by the fish display, don’t fucking sob you’re out in the street now. 

Relax. You’re walking. His white tee is flawless and people have no clue you left a bloody shirt on a stairwell. Don’t fucking cry.

But suddenly.

Shouting erupts behind you both, just as a cop car rolls past the restaurant only to get surrounded. 

And with one look back, your brain freezes. Right before Yoongi sounds a little too delighted to say something so foreboding,

“Looks like you’re in it now.”

Adrenaline spikes as you burst into motion. Hot summer air stings your lungs as legs propel you forward, with nothing in sight except for your partner in high crime. 

Yoongi’s right. 

You’re in it now. 

And just like the delinquents that you despise, the two of you both kick up dust on the run. 

You’re really doing this. 

Holy shit, you’re really doing this and there’s no waking up, no jolting awake, no pinching yourself to know that it’s all a dream. The only thing pinching is your sides, fresh stings of karma with each heavy footstep through crowded streets, buildings, levels, wherever the fuck you go. 

At least Yoongi is commanding as he leads you through the city—clearly from a heap of experience. Though rattled, you follow him with more adrenaline than questions. Because running is all you know. Run, run, run, escaping is your only objective and you cannot let up even once.

Your feet pelt down a staircase before you leap onto a disposal bin, impact denting as you follow Yoongi’s long strides across the colorful tops. Shouts and metal pings echo behind you as your chasers catch up, and you grit your teeth so hard they rattle as you jump to alley ground. “Fuck!”

Searing, searing pain rushes through your legs as you twist and wind through busy corridors, squeezing into the gaps Yoongi finds as he barrels in front. 

“Get back here!” 

“You fuckers!”

Who’s following you? Are they even Crane? You don’t see a shred of white on their clothes at all so are they working for some random guy Yoongi stole from?

When you watch him turn at the shouting, all thoughts vanish as your gut churns. 

He’s grinning.

You just killed someone for him. And he probably has more blood on his hands than you can imagine. 

And he’s… enjoying this? 

You feel sick, mind blazing with a million red warning signs. How could you ever have had feelings for h—

You bounce off a passerby as you run, grunting at the sudden pain in your shoulder when another person rams into your back and topples you over, dirt scraping into your palms and knees. 

Shit shit shit it’s so dusty on the ground and all you see are traveling shoes where are you? Where is he did he leave did he even see you fall? It’s too condensed here there’s no way he’s not taking the next chance to disappear.

Forget all of that, they’re coming. The chasers are coming and you see them see you down get up get up get up what the fuck get up now.

Ripping out a groan, you rush to your feet as soon as someone swoops in, bashing someone right behind you with someone’s crate of fruit. 

Yoongi? He waited for you?

“Go!” 

Both of you hightail it with you now in the lead, and your eyes buzz as you slip through holes in the crowd. Left, left, right, around, left again, between. 

An intersection ahead. Yes. Lose everyone in the vehicle traffic or hitch a ride with a stranger. Fascinating how the survival tactics that spawn from your block develop in real time on the run.

Almost there, almost there, almost there—fuck! 

Whiffing in front of your nose, a metal weapon smacks the ground at your toes. 

Flailing, you dodge the next swing, ducking before you see a black duffle smack your assailant in the face. 

Keep going. Finish him and get away. As Yoongi shifts left, you lunge forward, sending a swift punch to the guy’s ribs that hurt like hell goddamn oh fuck someone brought a knife!

“Yoongi!” Just as the surrounding civilians yell and clear out, you rush toward his aid before you’re tackled, air whooshing out of your lungs as your back pummels into gravel. Fuck fuck fuck this masked woman also has a dagger. A thick one. Don’t let her win don’t let her win hold on for dear fucking life. 

Did you think you’d find yourself in a grudge match to keep metal from sinking into your chest today? No. Ever? Also no. 

Your arms are shaking. Shots ring out. Sweat is your enemy. The street is in uproar. Where’s Yoongi did he hear you? Fuck, the metal tip is pricking you now this is— 

Mercifully, your attacker yelps as something slams into her side, dark brown clothes crumpling before you’re hoisted upward and dragged back into the crowd. 

“Let me go or I’ll kick your ass—”

“You good?” 

Oh, it’s Yoongi. Again. Okay. Eyes swirling, you lock onto the gun held flush in his other hand before you nod. “I—I think so—”

“Then keep up.” 

Winding between people, you’re only focused on getting away. But when you catch glimpses of him, he’s back to his glint. He’s exhilarated.

If only you were both doing anything else. If only you weren’t so queasy and guilty and loathing of your own self.

Right as you finally burst into bustling traffic, Yoongi boldly stops a taxi at its hood, motioning you to follow him inside. 

Shocked but head reeling, you open the door closest to your sweaty legs and slide in. 

And before you can even greet the shouting driver, Yoongi pulls you to his side and rushes something out in your ear, 

“Kiss me.” 

“I said get out!” 

“What?” 

“Come here.” 

You’ve kissed before. Not many times, but enough to know that this man knows what the fuck he’s doing because you feel like your soul just abandoned you to exist in this car forever. You don’t know why this is happening or where this came from, but his lips feel as soft as his name and as deadly as the gun he’s pulling on your driver—

“Han Station,” he drawls, halting time and space. “Or your papers are burned by morning.” 

Oh. 

You were just… Oh. 

Lips puffed and head swirling, you sit frozen in your spot, marinating in the realization that the best kiss of your life was a mere distraction. And as you watch Yoongi keep his aim straight, you assume he probably didn’t even think much of it, either. 

“…I thought you looked familiar,” the driver slowly grits, hands gripping his wheel before he shakes his head. “You’re a little far from home.”

You think that’s all he’s gonna say. But his eyes are sharp in the rear view mirror, knowing a gun is pointed straight at his dome. “Aren’t you.”

What is he getting at you need to leave fast—

“Agust.” 

…Huh? 

Agust? 

This is the first time you feel a heartbeat against your arm, and you hold a breath as Yoongi tightens his fingers on the gun. 

When he doesn’t reply, the car fills to the brim with tension, and you feel crushed by its liquid weight. 

Don’t you have to go? Aren’t you in a chase? Are you getting a little too hot?

When you go to slide to your own side of the car for some space, the hand around your shoulder squeezes. 

And you’re more confused, exhausted, and thrown off than ever. 

“Han Station,” is all Yoongi—Agust?—repeats, voice ice. “Now.”

To which the taxi driver stares, standing his ground until he breaks eye contact first to obey. 

“Fuckin’ Dragons and their useless whores.”

Oh, fuck that. 

Before you can lunge forward to outright strangle the man, Yoongi does something that has your eyes magnifying into saucers and hands shooting up to your mouth.

He fires the gun straight at the man’s thigh, yelps leaving both the driver's throat and yours holy fuck! 

“You bastard—”

“You’ll live. Drive.”

“Fucking—fuck!”

The car shifts through traffic, swerving left and right and cutting off slower vehicles. When force smushes you closer into Yoongi’s side, you can’t help but notice how fit he is, and how calm he’s being despite the whole chase. Despite that spike in adrenaline. Despite blowing a hole in a stranger’s leg for six words.

He also feels really, really good against your side, but you can’t let that matter anytime soon. There’s absolutely no way you can let this dangerous man in, especially after this entire nightmare of a day. 

So you swallow, trying to compartmentalize because you’ll reach insanity if you don’t.

Does anyone out there know you took a life minutes ago? Or hours ago? You just kissed a criminal five and a half minutes ago. Would they care about that, too?

The window is suddenly much more interesting than any of your wandering, slingshot thoughts. 

Wait. It’s very pretty in this area, and you finally can tell some semblance of where you are. Because you only know of one part of the city that looks like this, and it’s deep in Crane territory. 

Did you both really make it this far? 

Carefully tended to, it’s a lot greener on the sidewalks, and more open on the roads. And it’s on one of these roads that you finally notice the sunset, gold accents shining on sleek street signs and the tops of buildings that seem much more at rest than you do. 

Rest. Sleep. Home. 

With the luck you’re having, it would be a miracle and a half to reach even one of the three. 

Did you get followed? You don’t know how much longer you can run, so you really fucking hope not. 

“Almost there,” Yoongi whispers, voice scratching your ear in the worst and best ways. “When we get out, move your ass.” 

When you watch the wary, heavy breathing driver in his rear view mirror, you bite out, “I know how to get out of a car, thanks.” 

“Just listen to me.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?” 

“No.” 

That came out quicker than you could stop it. But Yoongi only lets silence come between you before he squeezes your shoulder. When he speaks, you can hear how carved out his smirk is without even seeing it, 

“Good girl.”

And you spoke the truth. It wouldn’t have come out so fast if it weren’t. But you know to at least follow his advice here because he’s kept you alive thus far. He didn’t need to drag you out and protect you the whole way, so it’s not like he would steer you wrong here. Right? 

Right? 

“Here,” Yoongi orders before the car slows to a stop. 

That wasn’t so bad. You can get out normally now so why did Yoongi say—

Right as your foot hits ground, the taxi peels out, forcing you to throw yourself out of the side before the rest of your body leaves with it. 

Fucking hell that hurt what the fuck was that for? 

Dirt and dust coats your tongue before you do anything to spit it out. Saliva rushes from your glands as you cough and hack, all while feeling every muscle group in your body begging to not stand up. 

But you feel rough, commanding hands on your arms. “You good?”

“Yeah—”

“Then get up. Get up.”

Straining and wincing like hell, you follow Yoongi’s lead yet again. Because you hear cars rolling up with bad intentions and that means you have to sprint again. 

What the fuck did Yoongi steal? And how the hell are these guys still on your tail? Their resources have got to be as good as Crane’s and yet, they don’t feel the same at all. 

You’re hobbling, but you’re going. You’re rushing. You’re going to get through this alive. 

Instead of heading into the underground, you find yourself ascending a flight of steps. Rumbles and rattles hit your ears as you realize exactly what kind of station this is—one you haven’t seen anywhere in your district. 

Han Station is a floating railway? 

Holy shit, where are you?

Yoongi skids around a corner before you plant hard to stop yourself, only to see him clash with someone before something connects right with your stomach, and you crumple before you feel a solid hit to your head. 

Oh.

The world spins and moves as you hear vibrations, slowed sounds that could be shouts. Gunshots? Or maybe songs? You don’t truly know but your head is aching—

Your arm rushes up to block something before your body follows, and you scream before gripping whatever you can and flipping a whole body forward. 

Reality crashes back into your ears as you snap out of your head. 

You haven’t had to do that maneuver in forever. Was muscle memory more than enough?

“Come on!”

Go. Go, follow him, both of you need to get to the rail shit it’s leaving!

The blaring reverberates through the air, pinging off metal and wheels screeching on the track lines as you bolt for the open doors.

Mid-stride, Yoongi swings to look at the people barreling up the stairs. “One more time: do you trust me?”

“No!”

“Good”—his hands grip your waist—“Jump!”

Head empty, you leap onto the railcar right as it starts to pick up speed, and you watch in horror as Yoongi empties his clip behind him until he can’t anymore. 

“Yoo—” Fuck, what was his name? He seems to not prefer the one you call him and that has to be for good reason. What was it?

You’re leaving. He’s gritting his teeth while hitting the bottom of his gun but he needs to get up! What was his fucking name! 

“Agust!” 

Yoongi finally whips his head around, dashing to the end of the train and straining to carry the duffle. 

He needs to launch it or leave it behind. There’s no way he’s not being weighed down so hard. “Here!” you yell, knowing that look is only reserved for people he doesn’t want to trust. It’s normal. But it still stings. “Hurry up!”

After one more second, he swings it around and flings, leaping onto the side handrail after you get blasted by the bag holy fuck that hurt. 

He was running with this the whole time? No wonder his shoulders are so cut this is heavy.

Straining, you peek out into the wind, seeing Yoongi holding on and scooting along thin steprails towards your awaiting hands.

Shit, this is dangerous. Buildings and the city below fly by, and a parallel train whooshes and roars past as you finally tug him inside with shaky wheezes.

Just like that.

You made it out.

What the fuck. You did it. No one else was able to get onto the train. You’re safe for now. 

Finally, finally, finally able to breathe. 

But goddamn, you both stand out like blood on a blank page.

As you struggle to fully stand, you notice everyone else on the train—well-kept, carrying themselves in sleek linens and lush outfits, hair done beautifully and to perfection. 

Which makes it unsurprising that plenty of them regard the pair of you with suspicion and morbid curiosity. While intrigue covers the one with an unfairly handsome face, zings of jealousy and judgment fire your way. 

You feel so out of place. You are so out of place. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to look at you like filth. The words from the taxi driver pierce your brain again, and you feel rage and pain bubble up to your tongue,

“Anyone got something they wanna sa—”

But Yoongi does something that has your brain chemistry altering because he casually bends a knee in front of you while holding the top rail, forcing you back into the side of the train car and only seeing his jewelry. 

When your eyes snap to his, he regards you before peering outside. “Stop,” he mutters. “You're causing a scene.”

“Me?” Oh, he has some nerve. “What did I do, you’re the one—”

“Quiet.”

Ridiculous. Huffing, you let disagreement tug your lips while joining him in watching the world go by. 

Realizing with a pang that you are probably never getting back home. You’re never gonna see your favorite neighbor with his woks and caterpillar eyebrows. All the produce you were planning to sell will only succumb to mold and time. 

Your tangerines… 

When a tear falls, it glints in your reflection before quickly being swiped away. 

No. Don’t do any of that here where people can see—where he can see. No one will know what the hell you just went through today. Be normal, strong, normal. 

The ride lasts a little longer, with people coming and going during each stop. When there are seats open, neither you nor Yoongi move to take them. The two of you stay glued where you stand.

Silent, together, and covered in hidden blood.

The next stop seems to be in a quieter sector of the city. All around you are buildings you’ve never seen before stretching miles into the sky, and the streets are so neatly paved you’re convinced they’re fake. 

“This is us,” Yoongi whispers, hand guiding your hip to move toward the doors.

Skin scorching under his touch, you can only nod.

Where are you now? Where are you getting off? 

You both exit the train with a few others, and you watch with heightened curiosity as they carry satchels and wear shoes that look horribly uncomfortable. As you move down the steps, you keep craning your neck to take everything in, and more questions fill your head than answers. 

But the truth remains even as you and Yoongi stop in front of your destination.

You cannot run anymore. Even if more of whoever those guys were showed up, you may just choose to sit down instead of take another stride. Besides, your body is still running a thousand steps even though you haven’t moved since getting on the train anyway. After today, the chase may never stop.

“We’ll stay here.” 

We? Stay? 

“Here? This place is…” You keep peering up and up, the top of the building so high your neck hurts. It’s so foreign and magical your only adjective is a quiet, “Nice.” 

At your side, Yoongi seems annoyed when he asks, “Expect something different?” 

“Yeah, like… I dunno, a secret lair or something.” 

Air whooshes from his nostrils, but there’s a stark absence of a smile. Looking up at the building, too, he explains something that you’ve never heard of before,

“We’re in a grey zone. No one will follow us here.” 

Right. Because that somehow makes sense to regular civilians like you. Because you are one, are one, are one. “Allegedly,” you scoff, not knowing what to believe anymore.  

Yoongi pauses before heading up, and his agreement makes you look. “Allegedly.” 

Mm. 

After taking the tiny steps to the entrance, you wonder what he must be thinking bringing your haphazard look in tow. 

Because he could’ve left you behind at any point in time. But he didn’t. What does that mean? Why is he keeping you alive and at his side?

While you’re taking in the opulent and vast lobby, Yoongi guides you toward the front desk, shifting the duffle on his shoulder. 

This place is gorgeous. Nothing like you’ve ever seen. How were they able to install a waterfall in a building? What kind of money does this so-called grey zone have? 

Yoongi nods toward the concierge, who quickly nods back and scurries away and into a room.

If you weren’t so tired, you could probably make something of that exchange. But you are very much exhausted so frankly, you don’t give a shit right now. 

Although. You do give a shit about the fingers suddenly interlacing with your own. As your hand is held, you shoot your best client a look so potent he stares back. “What now,” you snip, question low and dripping with distrust. 

Unfazed, Yoongi slowly pulls you into his side, a steady hand coming up to wrap around your tired hips. So nonchalant, so lax, so confusing as he murmurs,

“Just wanted to.”

Your heart trips into the next beat.

On sore legs, you wait until the concierge comes back with a key, eyes swiping over you as if they finally noticed your existence. Which seems to perplex them as they hand over the metal device.

And Yoongi just takes it, not a word said before he directs you across the lobby to what look like elevators.

Even these look fancy as fuck. Wherever you are and whatever this place is, you feel even more out of place than on that judgy train. 

A hotel worker bows before he motions to the opening doors. “Nice to see you again,” he murmurs to the ground, seemingly expecting the same non-response given to the front desk. “Would you like the usual, Mister—” 

“No,” Yoongi clips him off. “Not this time.” 

“Understood.” 

Brows pinched, you’re starting to get a weird feeling. 

How does everyone know Yoongi so well here? He said this was a grey zone, which you’d think would be akin to a neutral or non-threatening one. So why does it feel like he’s got this area on lock? Who exactly are you getting into an elevator with? 

…Who exactly did you save? 

Yoongi was right when he said you’re in it now. But faced with more questions surrounding him than anything or anyone else, you’re starting to wonder what pit of hell you dropped yourself into. 

Especially after catching the look of utter panic from the serviceman. 

Right before sliding doors shut the world out. 

—

—

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: thank you all for being so patient as i work through this! it was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but i like, need characters to get to know and learn about one another before heading into spice lmao. I NEED PLOT OK. THERE WILL BE LOTS OF SMUT I PROMISE DSHFKDSF we just gotta get through the slow burn first >:)) a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist (coming soon!)

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ SFW ALPHABET━ JAY

contents. based on this template my note. i will be doing a nsfw version, don't you worry (maybe even for other members, lee heeseung i'm looking at you) also, i think you can tell for which letters i had inspo and for which i had no inspiration. library.

a = affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?) jay is a very affectionate man, but he doesn't show it all the time, or in grand measures. it can be holding your hand in crowds, or brushing your hair out of your face. to him, smaller shows of affection are just as important as celebrating anniversaries, overall, a really gentle and affectionate man.

b = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?) i honestly see him having a small circle of friends, being on good terms with everyone, but really hanging out with a handful of people, so prior to your relationship, you two shared the same circle of friends and hung out regularly. he also gives out the best advice and isn't afraid to say exactly what he thinks whenever someone asks him for his opinion. a very open and a reliable friend.

c = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?) to him, heaven on earth is when the two of you are laying on the couch, your head on his chest and his strong arms wrapped around you. after a hard day of work, there is nothing more he wants than to just relax with his favorite person. i feel like his arms would feel like the safest place in the world, shielding you two from everything bad in the world.

d = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?) jay is the picture perfect husband material. he already knows he wants to settle down and start a family in the future. since he already knows how to cook and to clean (and is mighty good at it), his future wife shouldn't have to worry too much about it.

e = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) like ripping off a band-aid. as quick as possible, without dragging it out. however, jay would do everything in his power to stop the break up from happening. he's a rational man, and believes all conflict comes from lack of communication, or no communication at all, so he'd try and talk to you, hear you out and see things from your perspective. if the break up is still inevitable he'd do it quickly, but it doesn't mean he'll move on quickly as well.

f = fiancee (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?) he dates to marry. simply as that. he's not a man for situationships and one-time flings. he won't even start dating you unless he sees getting married to you one day. it will take time for him to actually propose, curtsey of his idol life, but the idea of marriage is in his head since the very start of your relationship.

g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) a big strong man like he is has a reputation to uphold. he is, however, a big softie in his heart. he’s attentive to your needs and always makes sure to be considerate of your feelings. even when he’s joking around, there’s a softness to his words and actions that makes you feel cherished.

h = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?) i'm a firm believer that this man will never initiate a hug unless it's very early in the morning, or if he's very tired. it doesn't mean he doesn't like hugs, just the opposite, but to him they're such big shows of intimacy and deserve such a setting. when he does hug you, it's the best feeling in the world. if there's a height difference, he'll place his chin on the top of your head, and if you're the same height as him, he'll softly lean in and place his forehead against yours.

i = i love you (how fast do they say the L-word?) not that fast, it takes him quite a while, but it's because he wants to be absolutely sure that you two are serious about each other. once he does say i love you it's as if all the other words evaporated into thin air. it's all he manages to say in the early mornings or late nights when you're in bed fighting the tiredness away.

j = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?) jay does get a little jealous, but he doesn't show it. well, maybe sometimes, but it is quite rare for him to get jealous, angry and possessive, simply because he isn't insecure in your relationship. he knows he's yours and you're his and that's all that matters to him.

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?) jay’s kisses are soft and deliberate, as if each one carries a special meaning. he likes to take his time, letting his lips linger on yours just a little longer, savoring the closeness. his kisses are varied depending on the moment—sometimes playful and quick, like when he’s teasing you, and other times slow and passionate, drawing you in completely. jay loves to kiss you in places that feel intimate and personal, like the nape of your neck or your temple. he has a soft spot for forehead kisses, finding them comforting and affectionate, almost like a silent promise to always be there for you. when he’s feeling particularly affectionate, he’ll trail a series of kisses from your forehead down to your lips, taking his time to show you just how much he cares. as for where he likes to be kissed, jay enjoys it when you kiss his jawline or just below his ear. it’s a sensitive spot for him, and he can’t help but smile when you find it. he also appreciates it when you plant a quick kiss on his cheek in passing, especially if it’s unexpected—it never fails to bring a grin to his face. overall, kissing with jay is a gentle and intimate experience, one that leaves you feeling cherished and loved.

l = little one (how are they around children?) jay has a natural ease around children, almost as if they can sense his gentle and kind nature. he’s patient and knows just how to make them laugh, whether it’s by pulling a funny face or engaging them in a silly game. jay doesn’t force interactions but instead lets them happen organically, making kids feel comfortable in his presence. jay also has a protective instinct when it comes to children. if he notices a kid feeling left out or shy, he’ll quietly make his way over to them, offering a kind word or a gentle nudge to join in on the fun. he’s incredibly attentive, always making sure the kids around him feel included and happy.

m = morning (how are mornings spent with them?) mornings with jay are a blend of peace and warmth, often starting slow and unhurried. he’s not one to jump out of bed immediately; instead, he enjoys those first few minutes of the day lying close to you, savoring the quiet before the world wakes up. sometimes, he’ll pull you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a sleepy embrace as he murmurs something soft against your hair. if he wakes up before you, jay likes to take a moment to just watch you sleep, a small smile playing on his lips as he takes in your peaceful expression. he’s the type who loves the calm of the morning, the soft light filtering through the curtains, and the feeling of being completely at ease with you by his side. on weekends or days off, jay might nudge you awake gently, suggesting you stay in bed a little longer just to enjoy each other’s company. these mornings are often filled with quiet conversations, laughter, and the occasional tickle fight, where he tries to coax you out of your drowsiness with playful affection. when it comes to breakfast, jay is more than happy to take the lead. he might slip out of bed to make you a simple meal—something comforting like toast with jam, eggs, or pancakes if he’s feeling fancy. he enjoys the routine of preparing food and often hums softly to himself while cooking, feeling content knowing he’s starting the day off by taking care of you.

n = nights (how are nights spent with them?) nights with jay are calm and comforting, a time to unwind together after a busy day. he enjoys cozying up on the couch, watching a movie, or listening to music with you, creating a peaceful atmosphere where you can both relax. he values these quiet moments, often sparking deep conversations that bring you closer, sharing thoughts and dreams as the night deepens. when it’s time for bed, jay is all about making you feel secure and loved. he’ll take his time setting up a comfortable space, ensuring everything is just right for a good night’s sleep. once in bed, he likes to hold you close, his presence warm and reassuring, as you both drift off to sleep, feeling connected and content.

o = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) he takes his time when it comes to opening up about himself. in the early stages of your relationship, he’s more reserved, sharing just enough to keep the conversation flowing without revealing too much too soon. he prefers to let the connection build naturally, allowing trust to develop before he delves into deeper topics. his initial openness comes in small doses—playful stories, casual anecdotes, and light-hearted memories that give you a glimpse into his world. as the relationship deepens, jay starts to share more personal details, peeling back the layers of his thoughts and experiences. he doesn’t rush this process; instead, he waits for moments that feel right, where the atmosphere is calm and the conversation naturally leads to something more meaningful. when he does open up, it’s clear that he’s thought carefully about what he wants to share, making his words all the more impactful. he values emotional intimacy, but he wants to build it on a foundation of mutual understanding and respect.

p = patience (how easily angered are they?) jay is incredibly patient, rarely getting angry or frustrated quickly. he understands that everyone has their own pace, whether it's in conversations or when tackling challenges together. when conflicts arise, he takes the time to listen to your perspective and calmly express his own, ensuring that you both feel heard. this level-headed approach helps to create a safe space where you can discuss your feelings openly without fear of backlash. his patience also shines through in the way he supports you, whether you’re working on personal goals or dealing with life’s ups and downs. jay is the kind of partner who will stand by your side, encouraging you to take your time and reminding you that it’s okay to not have everything figured out. he believes that patience is essential for a healthy relationship, allowing both of you to grow individually and together while navigating life’s challenges hand in hand.

q = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) jay has a remarkable memory when it comes to the little things about you. he pays close attention to the details, from your favorite snacks and movies to the stories you share about your childhood. he often surprises you by recalling things you mentioned in passing, making you feel special and valued. this thoughtful nature extends to remembering important dates and events in your life, and he enjoys celebrating even the small milestones that might slip by unnoticed. not only does jay remember facts about you, but he also takes the time to understand your feelings and preferences. he’s the type who will ask how your day was and genuinely listen to your response, eager to know what made you happy or what challenged you. his ability to remember these details showcases his dedication to the relationship and his desire to create a strong, meaningful connection. it’s this attentiveness that makes you feel seen and appreciated, reinforcing the bond you share.

r = remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?) jay has a knack for cherishing the little moments in your relationship, often reflecting on how they’ve shaped your bond. one of his favorite memories is the day you first met; he vividly recalls your smile and the instant connection he felt. he often thinks back to how nervous he was to approach you and how grateful he felt when you welcomed him so warmly. this memory stands out as a beautiful reminder of the beginning of your journey together. he also holds dear the simple, everyday experiences that make your relationship unique. whether it’s your spontaneous dance parties in the living room or quiet evenings spent cooking together, jay finds joy in these little moments. he believes that it’s not just the big events that matter, but also the shared laughter and warmth in your daily life. these memories create a tapestry of love and connection, making each day with you feel special and significant

s = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?) jay is naturally protective and values creating a sense of security in your relationship. he’s attentive to your needs and always ensures that you feel safe and cherished, whether it’s by holding your hand in crowded places or checking in on you when you seem a bit off. his protective nature is gentle rather than overwhelming; he trusts you and encourages open communication, making sure you both feel secure in your connection. jay believes that emotional security is key to a strong relationship, and he works hard to foster an environment where you can both be yourselves without fear of judgment.

t = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) jay puts a significant amount of effort into your relationship, always striving to make you feel special and appreciated. he’s thoughtful about planning dates, whether it’s a cozy night in with your favorite movies or a surprise picnic at the park. jay enjoys coming up with creative ideas that reflect your interests, showing that he truly listens and cares about what makes you happy. for anniversaries and special occasions, he puts in extra thought, often handpicking gifts that hold sentimental value or creating personalized experiences that you’ll both cherish. in addition to planning dates, jay also invests effort into the little things in everyday life. he’s the kind of partner who remembers to ask how your day went and checks in on your well-being, making sure you feel supported. whether it’s helping out with chores or simply sharing a quiet moment together, he believes that every small act of kindness contributes to a strong and loving relationship. his commitment to trying his best in both the big and small aspects of your life together is what truly makes your bond special.

u = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?) jay has a few habits that he sometimes struggles with, like overthinking situations or being a bit stubborn when he believes strongly in something. he tends to dwell on his mistakes, replaying them in his mind, which can lead to unnecessary self-doubt. while he’s usually laid-back, there are times when his stubbornness can make it hard for him to compromise, especially if he feels strongly about an issue. despite these quirks, he’s always working on being better and appreciates your patience and understanding as he navigates his own challenges.

v = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?) jay is somewhat conscious of his looks, particularly because of his idol career in the spotlight. he takes pride in his appearance, making an effort to dress well and stay well-groomed. however, he’s not overly vain; his focus is more on feeling confident and comfortable in his own skin rather than seeking validation from others. he enjoys experimenting with different styles and looks, but ultimately, he prioritizes authenticity over trying to fit a specific image. despite his attention to appearance, jay values inner beauty just as much, believing that genuine character and kindness are far more important. he appreciates when you compliment him, but he’s not someone who needs constant reassurance about his looks. he finds it refreshing when you both can laugh about silly moments or imperfections, emphasizing that confidence comes from being yourself. for jay, it’s about balance—taking care of how he presents himself while staying true to who he is inside.

w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?) jay feels a deep sense of completeness with you, as if you bring out the best parts of him and make him a better person. he genuinely believes that you complement each other in a way that makes life richer and more fulfilling. while he values his independence, he also recognizes that your love and support provide him with a sense of stability and purpose. jay is not dependent on you for his happiness, but rather, he sees you as an integral part of his life, and he feels that together, you both create a whole that neither could achieve alone.

x = xtra (a random headcanon for them.) i think jay has a playful and adventurous side that often surprises you. he loves planning spontaneous day trips or fun activities that add excitement to your routine. whether it’s suggesting a random road trip to a nearby city or organizing a themed movie night complete with costumes, he really enjoys bringing a dash of fun into your time together. i think his spontaneity keeps the relationship lively and shows how much he values creating lasting memories with you. his ability to think outside the box and embrace new experiences makes every moment feel special and full of joy.

y = yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) i think jay has a few dislikes that stand out, especially when it comes to certain foods. he’s not a fan of overly spicy dishes, as he prefers flavors that are more balanced and enjoyable. the idea of eating something too hot makes him cringe, and he’ll often avoid meals that might ruin his taste buds for the day. i think he appreciates a well-cooked meal, and he finds it hard to enjoy food that doesn’t meet his standards. in addition to food, i think jay has a strong aversion to dishonesty. he values transparency and sincerity in relationships, so when people are insincere or deceitful, it really bothers him. he believes that trust is fundamental, and he feels disappointed when others don’t uphold that standard. this dislike for dishonesty extends to his own behavior; he makes an effort to always be upfront with you, wanting to create a foundation built on mutual respect and understanding. i also think jay is not a fan of overly crowded or chaotic environments. while he enjoys socializing, he prefers smaller gatherings where he can connect with people on a deeper level. large parties can feel overwhelming for him, making him want to retreat to a quieter space. i think he finds joy in meaningful interactions rather than trying to navigate through noise and chaos, which allows him to be his authentic self in comfortable settings.

z = zzz (what is a sleep habits of theirs?) i think jay has some pretty endearing sleep habits that make nighttime feel cozy. he tends to fall asleep quickly, often snuggling close to you as soon as his head hits the pillow. he loves to be wrapped in your arms or have his head resting on your shoulder, finding comfort in your presence. sometimes, he talks in his sleep, mumbling the sweetest things that make you smile even in your half-asleep state. jay is a light sleeper, easily stirred by sounds or movements around him. if he hears you rustling or getting up during the night, he’s likely to wake up and check in on you, making sure you’re okay. this protective nature comes through even in his sleep, as he instinctively reaches out to hold you close. his sleep habits reflect his caring personality, creating a warm and loving atmosphere as you both drift off into dreams together.

permanent taglist. @astratlantis @jongseongfile

all rights reserved @hyuchuus 2024.

hi, was wondering if you could do something for sero!!! i feel like i never see any fics for him. anything is fine!

I agree wholeheartedly!! I hope this doesn’t disappoint

CHOCOLATE BARS AND SLIDES

Sero Hanta, your cute coworker, always knows how to save the day

No powers AU, Office AU,

————————————-—————————————

Your desk chair squeaks under you as you adjust yourself for what you think might be the hundredth time today. You’d think that your employers would splurge on more comfortable chairs, considering your shift consists of sitting at your desk for ten long hours, but they were as cheap as they come.

You have a few hours before you’re off, but you know you can’t leave until you finish this presentation. You of course got lumped with it at the last meeting, too polite to tell your boss you were already painfully overworked to also add that to your list. You know stuff like this only pushes you up the company ladder, so you try not to complain too much. But it’s still annoying.

A knock sounds on your office door. A hand pops in holding a coffee cup before a grinning face quickly follows.

“Got an order for UA’s best employee.” Sero smiles, waving the coffee in the air.

If not for the living wage it gives you, your job gives you a blessing in the form of your cute coworker, Sero Hanta. He had the office right next to yours and you found yourself spending your lunch breaks together, getting drinks on Friday’s at the bar down the street. He would keep you company while you worked, lounging on the couch in your office, and you’d do the same. Even outside of work, you’d met all his old university friends and he’d met yours.

Of course, it’s very helpful that he’s also the most attractive person in the company. And also the most attractive person you know in general. Long, dark hair he always ties into a low bun when he’s really focusing on work. He’s so tall, and you’ve learnt the muscles under his work suit are hidden but there, having dragged him home after long nights out with too many beers, one of your hands not big enough to wrap round his arm. And that smile. Perfect teeth, the perfect grin. You love it every time it’s aimed at you and you do everything you can for him to do so.

You get up quickly and rush to the door. He’s ditched the coat of his suit and loosened the tie, rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. Things get much quieter the closer you reach closing, and the uniform rules also get much more lenient. He hands you the coffee and you ignore how your fingers brush against his, warm and soft.

“God, I love you.” You take a long sip and sigh contentedly. “I needed this.”

You sit back down at your desk and Sero takes a seat on your couch. “Are you talking to me or the coffee?”

“The coffee.” You take another sip.

“I’m unappreciated in my time.” Sero leans back, scratching his head. “What are you still working on? We’re finished in like, an hour.”

“I have to finish this thing, it’s for tomorrow. Aizawa gave it to me personally so if I don’t finish it I’ll personally be blamed.” You scrub at your eyes to try and wake yourself up.

“You nearly done?”

You nod. “I think. I should be out soon.”

Sero grins. “And then we’re going out for drinks?”

You shake your head and look back at your computer. “It’s a Wednesday, you alcoholic.”

“Yeah, so what? We haven’t hung out in ages.” He whines, leaning his head back against the couch. Your eyes trace the line of his neck, his sharp collarbones dipping into his button up and you quickly avert your eyes.

“I know. Aizawa has been giving me like, every piece of extra work we have. I don’t know why.”

“It’s because you never say no.”

You bite your lip, contemplating. “I can’t say no to Aizawa, he’s my boss.”

“That’s definitely not true, you workaholic.”

You type a sentence and nothing happens. You huff, tapping aggressively at the mousepad.

“Doubt that’s going to help.”

“Shush. God, it’s so hot in here.”

Your fan is broken and does nothing to stave off the heat filtering in from outside. It’s the end of summer, the last days of it already slipping away, but the autumn weather still hasn’t settled over the city. Your windows are open but you’re sure you’re sweating through your blouse. You unbutton the first two buttons, fanning yourself with your hand.

“It’s okay. I just need to read through everything and then I think I’m good to go.” The room is silent and you look up. Sero is staring at you quite intensely, his face a little red.

“You okay? I know it’s hot in here, my fan is broken.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m alright.” He sits up, adjusting himself. You peer at him for a second but you turn away.

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

You smile slightly. He’s looking at you expectantly, so excitedly. You feel bad to disappoint him when he’s come all this way to your office, with a coffee no less. But you’re tired. It’s been a long day. A long, hot day, and you have no intention of doing anything but getting home, showering and sleeping.

“I’m sorry, Sero. I’m gonna take a rain check on today.”

He pouts. “Come on, babe, please? It’ll be fun!”

“Actually, it’s not really a rain check since we never had plans.” You pointedly ignore the pet name he insists on using on you. You know that it means nothing considering the fact he calls Kaminari it more than you.

He says your name, dragging out the syllables. You try to ignore him but he’s now moved to stand at your desk, palms flat on the table. You look up and he’s looking right at you, brown eyes staring into yours.

“We won’t go out then. But promise you’ll get some rest tonight? You look dead on your feet.” He says softly.

His eyes crinkle with concern and a part of you knows he’s only pushing you to go out to make sure you’re okay. Sero knows better than anyone you’d rather overwork yourself than ask for help despite how much you might need it. Your heart clenches at the gesture and you smile softly. He does the same and you tug on his tie.

“Yeah, I promise. There’s reruns of criminal minds and a tub of ice cream calling my name.”

“That’s my girl.”

——-

The towel wrapped around your head slips as you bend down to light the candle on your bedside table. The shower had done everything to rejuvenate you, and the smell of your vanilla body wash wafts over your nose. You're wearing your comfiest joggers and your baggiest shirt, and had grabbed a spoon and your favourite ice cream to snuggle in bed with. Your laptop is set up above your duvet and you sit down excitedly, more than prepared for your night in.

You could start finishing the episode you’re on. You should, really. You remember a promise you’d made to a certain sexy coworker that you’d relax, but. You can’t help it. Before you can even decide against it you check the presentation one last time. It was done a couple hours ago before you came home and you know it’s perfect. But you need to make sure that all the slides are the right colour, that all the text is there. Just in case.

You click the Google slide. While it loads you dig your spoon into the carton. The chocolate melts over your tongue, but as you go back for another scoop, the ice cream drips onto the keyboard. You frown, rubbing at it with your finger. Which only makes it worse. You sigh, reaching for a tissue, and scrub at it m again. It cleans quickly and you smile triumphantly. You’re too tired to care for the sticky residue. You glance back up at the screen and you freeze.

Because it’s blank.

You seem to be back on your Home Screen. You pause. Maybe you didn’t actually click it. You look through your files and it’s not there. You curse because Google slides doesn’t have a rubbish bin, nothing you can look through to find the thirty page slide you just deleted.

“No, come on, please. Don’t do this to me.” You whisper to yourself.

You feel tears prickle behind your eyes. You’d spent so much time on this and Aizawa needed you to present it tomorrow. You spend another five minutes searching and you come to the horrible realisation that it’s gone.

Panic grips at your throat as you curse under your breath. You don’t know what to do and for some reason the first thing your brain can think of is to call Sero. If anyone can help you or at least just calm you down it’s him. It’s only nine in the evening so you know he’ll still be awake. Shaky fingers dial his number as you hop out of bed, laptop under one arm. You pace around your apartment as it rings once, twice, before he answers, voice deep and gravelly through the phone.

“Hello?”

“I deleted it! Sero, I deleted the slides, what am I going to do?”

“What?” The confusion is evident even through the crackle of the speaker.

You shake your head. “The slides Aizawa wanted. I-I don’t know how but I deleted them, Sero, I don’t know what to do.” Your voice cracks and you bite back tears. You hear shuffling on the other line.

“Hey, hey don’t worry about it. You’re 100% sure they’re deleted?”

“Yes. Yes, I looked everywhere. And I didn’t have a backup because I’m an idiot and I forgot. God, I’m so stupid.”

“None of that talk. Look, we can re-do them.”

You bite your lip. “It took me days, Sero. I- Will we have time?”

“We’ll have to try. They might not be as detailed as the originals were but I’m sure we can crack them out in one night. We’ll stay up all night if we have to.”

You nod a couple times and then you remember he can’t actually see you. You feel like crying again because there’s no way he’s actually this kind. “Okay. Thank you so much for this. For everything.”

“No problem. It’s what I’m here for. You wanna meet at yours?”

You glance at your cluttered messy living room, the dirty laundry piled on the floor. “I-I can’t do my place. You okay with yours?”

Sero goes quiet for a minute, and you hear voices in the background. “Uh, Kaminari invited some people over, so mine's a no go.”

You both take a moment to think of where you can meet. Your eyes land on the office keys on your coffee table.

“Hey, why don’t we meet at the office?”

“Will it be open?”

“I have a key.”

The line goes quiet for a minute.

“I won’t question that. Okay, I’ll be there in like, ten?”

“Sounds good. And again, thank you so much, Sero.”

“It’s alright, babe. I promise.”

You don’t stop to think once the line is cut, just quickly change into something a bit more presentable. You grab the first shirt and jeans you can find and rush out the door. You do make one stop to get some cans of coffee and snacks from the convenience store by your work. A little treat for Sero. You grab the chocolate bars you always see him eating and a couple bags of chips.

When you get there, Sero is leaning against the front doors. He’s wearing jeans and a hoodie. It’s weird seeing him in such casual clothes when you’re so used to him in a suit and tie. He looks up when he hears you walking in.

“Oh hey, did you-“

He’s cut off as you nearly knock him over in a hug, the bag of food rustling in your hands.

“Thank you, thank you, Sero, seriously.”

He laughs, arms circling around your waist to return the hug. He smells citrusy and you can feel the muscles underneath his hoodie as you slowly let go.

“I think you’ve said that enough.” He laughs. He immediately grabs the bag out of your hand as you fumble in your pocket for the key to the building.

“How do you even have access after hours, anyway?”

“Well, Aizawa caught me staying after closing so many times that he talked to security and let me have a key. He said at least that way I’m not trespassing after hours and I won’t get in trouble.”

Sero doesn’t respond so you turn, and he’s looking at you blankly. You squirm under his intense gaze.

“What?”

“You’re allowed after hours because you’re a workaholic?” He drawls and you shove his arm.

“No, I just- Shut up.”

The two of you wave to Hound dog, the night shift worker, and continue up to your office. Sero dumps the bag of food onto your desk before grabbing a chocolate bar and digging in.

“So what do we have to do?” He says around a mouthful of food.

“Well. I had about twenty slides? Or thirty? I can’t even remember now.” You walk over to your desk, fumble through its drawers and pull out a few papers.

“Aizawa gave me these for the presentation tomorrow. We have to summarise it all and make sure that everything highlighted is on the slides.”

He nods, peering at them over your shoulder where you’ve come to stand next to him. “Okay. So, give me half the stack to make into slides, you do the other half and we’ll just combine our stuff at the end.”

You nod and the two of you pull out your laptops. Sero props himself up on the couch. You consider sitting on the desk for a moment. It’s probably better for your back. But then Sero stretches, and his hoodie pulls up and you get a glimpse of what you think are abs, and you quickly decide to sit with him. You both place the laptops on the couch and sit so you’re facing each other, papers on your laps.

You work silently for a few minutes but then Sero asks how it all happened. You recount your nightmare incident with the ice cream, blushing furiously at the boyish laugh he lets out once you’re done.

“Ice cream caused you all this stress? Oh, you poor soul.”

You shake your head wistfully. “I’m never eating Ben and Jerrys ever again.”

Sero quitens and you glance up. He’s looking down at his laptop, eyebrows furrowed slightly as he focuses on a particular part of the paper he’s reading. You watched him tie his hair up moments before, and you wonder what it’d feel like if you just touched the wisps that fell over his face so effortlessly.

God, you’re such a creep.

“What were you doing before I called?” You clear your throat and hope the flush on your cheeks is not visible.

“Uh, you know. We were just hanging out.”

“You and Kami?”

Sero laughs nervously. “No, actually. Bakugo and Kiri and Mina. And Jirou.”

Your mouth gapes. “Oh my god, Sero! You were hanging out with all your friends and you ditched them to do paper work with me? At-“ you consult your phone quickly, “nine fifty seven?”

The tips of his ears go red and he shrugs. “I don’t mind. You needed my help.” His eyes shoot down to the screen.

You smile slightly. He’s refusing to look up at you, suddenly very interested in what colour to make his text. Only the fear of Aizawa’s wrath is stopping you from tossing your laptops on the floor and kissing him.

A shiver runs through your body. You rub your arms, curling up tighter against yourself. Despite the stifling heat during the day, the night welcomes a bitter cold that you were definitely not dressed for. Sero notices your shivering and immediately grabs his hoodie and yanks it off.

“Sero, no.”

“It’s fine, I run hot anyway.”

He throws it in your lap despite your protests. You huff but you’re too cold to refuse the gesture, so you slip the hoodie on. That same Sero smell infiltrates your nose and you pull the sleeves over your hands to warm them up.

“Thank you.”

He’s looking at you again, like he was in your office a few hours ago. That intense look that leaves you flustered and thinking that maybe he does like you back. You both stare at each other for a second, fingers stalling over the keys.

You clear your throat and break the silence.

The night continues with much of the same. Somehow, instead of being face to face like before, you’ve turned around so that your backs are resting against the couch, your shoulders and thighs touching. His body is warm next to yours, so you guess that he actually does ‘run hot’.

The two of you chat as you work and you find it much easier to recreate everything while he’s there to help and keep you entertained. And yet, despite all of his banter, you still find that you’re so terribly exhausted. The week had been long and despite the fact it was only Wednesday, (Thursday, judging by the fact it was now twelve am), you were tired.

You tried to push through. You only had one slide left. You decided that the heavy detail you used before was too much, and cut back almost everything to save time and effort. Sero had joked that that meant you never needed all that information in the first place, and you’d thrown a chocolate bar at him in retaliation. This was, despite the slides looking a little bare, something Aizawa couldn’t complain about.

And yet, though you’re so close to finishing, you feel your eyes fluttering shut. You cross your legs and adjust the laptop on your lap. This couch is so comfy. You never really noticed before. It’s probably why Sero is always lounging on it.

It won’t hurt if you shut your eyes for just a second, right?

——-

Sero jumps at the sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns to you to say something but finds that you’re asleep. On his shoulder. Your laptop is abandoned on your lap and Sero quickly grabs it before it slips off.

You’re both nearly done. He’s sure it will take a couple more minutes for him to finish everything up. You’d both been working on the same document, and he watched the icon with your name on it blink a few times before disappearing as he shuts your laptop.

He should probably wake you up. It can’t be good for your neck all bent like that. But you look so cute. He moves slightly and you make a little noise and bury yourself further into his arm.

God must be tempting him.

He’s sure it’s obvious he likes you. Half the office knows, but of course Sero likes you. How couldn’t he? Always smiling, always following along with whatever stupid thing comes out his mouth. Even though it might’ve been too much, your work ethic was unmatched by every one of your coworkers and he couldn’t help but admire it. You were funny and you both liked all the same things. You watched the same shows and you got along with all his friends, rambunctious enough to keep up with Kaminari and mouthy enough to even get along with Bakugo.

And it also didn’t help that you were gorgeous. Beautifully long lashes blinking behind even prettier eyes, that smile that lit him up from the inside. When he was in your office earlier and you’d unbuttoned some buttons from your blouse he’s sure he was about to combust. And then, when he was standing at your desk and could see the line of a lacy black bra peeking from behind it? That was enough for him to combust, and he quickly ducked out the room and ignored your confused expression as he coughed in his elbow to hide his furiously red face.

Sero has no clue if you know. Maybe today was enough to bridge the gap of uncertainty you both teetered on. His friends surely thought so, mad enough he was bailing on their monthly hangout to do paperwork.

“It’s not paperwork, guys, it’s love.” Kaminari had said, clutching his chest.

Him and the rest of his friends had watched as he quickly dashed around their apartment grabbing his laptop, his bag. Kiri and Bakugo were playing Mario kart, Kaminari egging them on, and the two girls painting each other's nails. It felt so similar to their days at college, and while he didn’t want to leave, the desperation and tears in your voice was enough to have him jumping out of his seat.

“It’s not love, it’s pathetic. The both of you. Just ask her out.” Bakugo rolled his eyes, shoving Kiris arm, trying to cover his view, out his face.

Sero grabbed his hoodie from his room, yelling out. “It’s not that simple!”

“It is! She so likes you back, everyone at UA knows.” Kaminari said around a mouthful of crisps.

“No they don’t.”

“I know, and I don’t even work there.” Mina quipped. The nail varnish brush dripped onto her clothes and she cursed.

Sero sighed. Where did he leave his keys?

“Look, it’s- I’ll think about that later, she’s really freaking out right now.” Sero found them under his suit jacket and shoved them in his pocket. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Sero’s getting some!” Kiri whooped, and Kaminari joined in.

He’d ignored them all and quickly left to meet you at the office. And when you appeared at the doors with that nervous smile on your face, hair pulled back messily, it made all the sense in the world why he ditched you for them. When you slipped his hoodie over your head, sat next to him instead of on your desk.

Sero doesn’t think he’s reading into things. He’ll ask you out. When you’re not ripping your hair out over work, if he can ever convince you to leave this room, he’ll ask you out. Maybe next time you’re getting beers, or next time he’s beating you in Mario Kart.

For now, Sero leans lower so you can rest your head better without hurting your neck. He should probably wake you up but instead, he continues typing, lulling you to sleep with the sound of the key clacking beneath his fingertips.

——————————-——————————-—————

I hope you all enjoyed!! I’ve been very anxious waiting to see if I got into uni, and now that’s all over I should be posting more regularly. leave any asks and I’ll try my hardest to get to them!!

oki weird but i lwk like your url

thanks anon idk how i came up with it (i promise i dont have a toenail fetish🙏)

NOT ON MY WATCH ⋮ P.SH

SYNOPSIS Sunghoon caught you getting ready for your supposed date, and it was clear he was trying to convince you to reconsider. He tried to dismiss his actions as simply "looking out" for you, but deep down, he couldn't shake the thought that lingered in his mind: why him, not me?

𝓟AIRING brother's-best-friend!sunghoon x fem!reader 𝓖ENRE fluff, friends to lovers (?) 𝓦ARNINGS jealousy, slight bickering / argument-ish? 𝓦ORD COUNT 2K+ ( 2054 words ) 𝓕EI’S 𝓝OTES first sunghoon fic (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) hoon has been taking over and that picture on pinterest fueled this idea in mind … think of this as a thank you for 100+ followers ♡ i truly am grateful and i hope to continue to make much more works for you all !! enjoy & ily >ᴗ<

You heard a gentle knock on your door, followed by a familiar voice asking, “Can I come in?” It was Park Sunghoon, your brother’s best friend. His frequent visits to your house had become routine, and you were used to seeing him almost every day. It felt like he practically lived there, but given his close friendship with your brother, it wasn't surprising.

“No.”

“Come on, please?”

“What’s your excuse for bothering me this time?” you replied, still focused on the mirror in front of you, showing no intention of letting him in.

“Your brother is busy playing games with Jake right now, and they’re being way too loud,” Sunghoon sighed, clearly exasperated. “Mind if I come in to escape them for a bit?”

“I don’t think my brother would appreciate you suddenly disappearing. He might think something’s up,” you replied, still focused on your appearance.

“He’s too busy trying to beat Jake to even notice I’m gone,” Sunghoon said with a faint smile. “Besides, I’d much rather talk to you than listen to them shout at the screen.”

“I’m flattered,” you laughed softly. “Alright, you can come in. Don’t be annoying.”

Sunghoon opened the door, his eyes settling on you as you sat at your desk, touching up your makeup. He raised his eyebrows slightly, leaning against the doorframe, clearly wanting to enter. “What are you getting ready for?” he asked, curiosity evident in his voice. “You look rather pretty.”

“Why, thank you. You’re being nice today,” you replied with a teasing smile. “I’m getting ready for a date.”

“Funny,” he said with a soft chuckle as he walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge while watching you apply your blush. “What are you really getting ready for? A girls' day out?”

You rolled your eyes and turned to face him. “No, seriously. It’s an actual date,” you insisted, trying to convey sincerity.

“You’re joking,” he said, laughing a little more, but when he saw your serious expression, the laughter faded. “Seriously?”

“Why would I joke about my love life?”

“You seem like the type who would.”

“Oh, don’t start. Remember, I’m the one who let you into my room,” you said, turning back to your mirror.

Sunghoon's smile wavered, a flicker of jealousy crossing his features as his eyes narrowed with mock suspicion. Hearing you say that, he couldn’t help but feel slightly…bothered.

“An actual date, huh? With who?”

“Why should it matter to you?” you asked, genuinely confused. “It’s not like you’re my brother.”

Sunghoon hesitated, searching for a reason to dismiss your plans. “Does your brother know about this… supposed date?”

“First of all, it’s an actual date, so I don’t know why you’re doubting me,” you replied, crossing your arms defensively. “And secondly, why does he have to know?”

“Oh, so he doesn’t?” Sunghoon crossed his arms, frustration evident in his expression. “I would think you’d be smart enough to talk to your brother about this. Someone should know about this date of yours.”

“Well, now you know,” you replied with a teasing smile. “That should be enough, right?”

“Is that so?” he said firmly. “Then no.”

“What?” You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden declaration.

“You’re not going,” Sunghoon insisted, his voice carrying a hint of jealousy that was impossible to ignore. “Not on my watch.”

You’d always known Sunghoon as your brother's annoying friend, the one who constantly found ways to bicker with you. But instead of the usual smirk he wore, his expression was serious—totally out of the ordinary.

Why was he suddenly acting like this?

“Okay, you’re confusing me,” you said, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to decipher his words. “Why wouldn’t I go?”

Sunghoon crossed his arms tighter, trying to maintain his composure. “Because you told me about your date, right? So I’m saying you shouldn’t go—just offering my opinion,” he said, attempting to mask his jealousy with a casual tone.

You frowned, feeling your frustration build. “Why should I listen to you?”

“So you just want me to stay silent? What if your brother asks me about you, wondering where you’re at, and I lie, and—who knows if you won’t get hurt?”

“Why would I get hurt?” you replied, exasperation creeping into your voice. “You don’t even know my date.”

“Then tell me about him,” Sunghoon pressed, his curiosity tinged with something deeper.

“Why should I tell you?” you asked, your frustration growing. “This isn’t your business.”

“It’s either you tell me about him, or I tell your brother,” Sunghoon replied, his voice firm and unwavering. “You know how protective he can get.”

You sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to let this go. “Fine. A friend of mine set me up with someone. He’s supposed to be nice, and I thought it’d be fun to meet him,” you said, trying to sound casual despite feeling a bit cornered. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

“So, you don’t know him?” he asked, his tone filled with skepticism.

“I’ll get to know him then.”

“No, that sounds so...unsafe!” Sunghoon said, his voice tinged with genuine concern. He was struggling to form his thoughts properly, not wanting to say the wrong things but clearly wanting to show his disapproval. “What if he’s not who he says he is? You can’t just meet up with some random guy.”

“Sunghoon, it’s not like I’m going to be reckless,” you replied, feeling a bit defensive. “If my friend knows him, then I should be fine, right?”

“Still, just because your friend knows him doesn’t mean he’s a good person.”

“You judge a lot for someone who hasn’t even heard about this man before,” you countered, crossing your arms.

“And you’re putting a lot of trust in a man you’re planning on seeing today,” Sunghoon shot back, his expression unwavering.

The room fell into a tense silence, his words hanging heavily in the air. You could see he was genuinely concerned, but his protective stance was starting to grate on your nerves.

“Whatever, Sunghoon, you can’t change my mind. I have to give this thing a try.”

“And do you even have a ride?” His question caught you off guard, making you pause. You didn’t have a ride.

You hesitated for a moment, trying to think of a quick response. “I was just going to take the bus,” you admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Sunghoon sighed, clearly not satisfied with your plan. “I’ll drive you,” he offered. Then, with a smirk, he added, “But, you’re going on a date with me.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you felt your cheeks flush with confusion. “What? Wait, what do you mean?” you stammered, caught completely off guard by his sudden declaration.

“I think I made it pretty clear that I didn’t like the thought of your date, did I not?” Sunghoon said, getting up from the bed and walking over to your desk. He leaned against it, pressing his palms on the surface, standing right next to where you were seated. “I wouldn’t want you to waste a cute outfit.”

“Okay, this is all of a sudden—this is crazy, Sunghoon!” you exclaimed, trying to wrap your head around the situation.

“Come on, you tell me that all the time. Why don’t you tell me something new?” he replied with a playful smirk. He was back to his usual self, but there was a flirty undertone you weren’t sure whether you hated or actually enjoyed.

“No really, do you know how insane you sound right now? Why would I go on a date with you?” you asked, still trying to process his sudden proposal.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“We can’t.”

“Why is that?”

“You’re my brother’s best friend—and my friend is going to kill me if I back out now,” you explained, trying to sound resolute.

“I don’t think it would be a problem to cancel now,” Sunghoon said, dismissing your concerns with a casual shrug. “And your brother? He doesn’t have to know.”

“Sunghoon!”

Sunghoon let out a small scoff, unable to hide his disbelief. He couldn’t understand why you were so set on meeting this guy. Did the thought of going out with him really bother you so much that you'd choose a stranger over him? The idea was unsettling to him.

“You’re already planning on breaking the rules that your brother established, so why are you hesitant now?”

“It’s not the same.”

“So, you’d rather go out with someone you don’t even know, instead of someone you’ve spent time with and know well? Why him, not me?” he asked, his frustration clear in his voice.

He muttered a curse under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Running a hand through his hair, he looked away from you, letting out a quick sigh as he struggled to collect his thoughts.

“Forget what I said.”

“You could’ve just blackmailed me by saying that you were going to tell my brother about this, but you chose to basically ask me out?” you pointed out, narrowing your eyes.

“It’s not like I meant it,” he mumbled, clearly flustered. “I’m just looking out for you because, you know, I’m your brother’s best friend. I was trying to get your mind off of this dating nonsense thing—as your brother would’ve liked.”

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sunghoon, you’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing!” he insisted, but the pink hue on his cheeks betrayed him. He tried to maintain his composure, but the blush only deepened under your scrutiny.

“Right, and I’m supposed to believe that?” you said, crossing your arms with a knowing smile.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m a little jealous. But can you blame me? I’ve seen you around all the time, and you’re amazing. And I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I didn’t know how. So, hearing you talk about going on a date suddenly was definitely not a good feeling.”

“I didn’t think you saw me that way,” you admitted softly, feeling your defenses start to crumble.

“Well, I do,” Sunghoon replied, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “I’m just trying to understand why you’d choose a stranger over someone who’s been here all along.”

“I’ll admit, I didn’t think you were actually suggesting we go out,” you said, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Let alone, suddenly calling it a date…”

“It could be considered a friendly one then. Would that make you feel more at ease with agreeing? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with my abruptness,” Sunghoon replied, his tone softening as he tried to reassure you.

“Oh? Yeah…that could work too…”

“You sound like you want it to be considered an actual date,” Sunghoon teased, a playful glint returning to his eyes as he leaned a little closer. “Is this you saying ‘yes’?”

“There you go, being your teasing self again. I thought we were having a moment,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “I can’t help but think you meant it that way for suddenly bringing it up.”

He laughed. “Well, we can have an even better moment, only if you accept.”

“Ask me properly then.”

“So demanding,” he teased, shaking his head with a grin.

“It’s either that, or I actually take a bus and meet up with him,” you said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Don’t joke like that,” Sunghoon said, meeting your gaze with a serious look, though a small smile soon cracked through. “Okay then, Y/N, will you go out with me tonight?”

You pretended to consider it for a moment, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “Well, since you asked so nicely… I guess I can rearrange my plans,” you replied with a smile, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. You might feel a twinge of guilt for backing out of your original plans, but you know your friend won’t hold it against you. After all, you're still going on a date—just not with the person she set you up with. Instead, it's with your brother's best friend, which adds an unexpected twist to the evening.

“But if my brother even suspects a single thing, you’re so dead.”

“Don’t worry, even if we have to sneak out, I can make it work.” Sunghoon said confidently, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I promise this will be worth way more than whatever you planned on doing today.”

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