#good god these two gives me a headache good for them i'm gonna punch a hole in a wall

[morriemonnie]

oh my god go kiss somewhere else

[clouddd-hannn]

Have Some Ramen Part 1

Requested

COUPLE: Seo Changbin x M!Reader

GENRE: Fluff, Smut

WARNINGS: Overstimulation, blowjob, cum swallowing, curse words, degradation, choking, slight edging

SUMMARY: Academy's bad boy, Seo Changbin, doesn't know how to tell you, the school's new student, his feelings so he decides to act it out

"Fucking shit!" Changbin shouted as he landed another punch on the student's face, blood spluttering towards his knuckles from the red liquid that trickled down the beat up student's nose. "Know your fucking place, asshole. 'Cause the next time you see me, I'm hella sure it won't just be a tooth I'll fucking take from you."

The student shudders in his place as he nodded and looked down, immediately running away as soon as Changbin removes his hand from his collar. He scoffs before finally moving towards his friends that seem to be quite amused with his 'temper control'. "Damn, Seo. For a small guy like you, you seem to have quite a temper."

"Why do you care, Chris?" Changbin stated as he pulled out his cigarette pack, pulled the pull-tab, and got one cigarette, using a lighter to spark-up the cancer stick. He inhaled some smoke from the cigar and pulled the cigarette off from his mouth before blowing the cancer-causing smoke.

"You do know that can kill you? You've been puffing up smoke for three days in a row," Hyunjin stated as he stood up from where he was seated and neared the smaller who just scoffed.

"I know that, Hyunjin. I'd rather die now than later. Ugh, you guys are giving me a headache," Changbin groaned as he sucked in one more smoke before blowing it out then threw the cigarette butt, stepping on it to kill out the fire.

He was mindlessly walking towards the school's hallway, hand in his pocket. As usual, students were avoiding him as he exudes a dangerous that aura that if anyone nears him, you're sure to get back to class with a brussed eye. He was just minding his own business when suddenly, someone bumped into him. "Oh my goodness. I didn't know where I was going. Sorry," the student, a male student, stated as he looked down and walked away before Changbin could even see who it was.

Who was it? It was you. The new student at Miroh Academy who was having a hard time looking for his first class. Everytime you asked someone, they plainly ignored you or just brushed you off, which was annoying. "If I don't find that room, I'm gonna piss my pants," you whined as you looked back at your class schedule then back at the numbers that was on top of the door frame. "Ah. Where is that class?" You muttered to yourself as you looked for the class.

You looked at your watch and saw that you only had five minutes left. If I don't find that class on time, I'll be surely late! God, not on my first day! You thought as you panicked and walked towards a student who was with two other students. "Uhm, hello. I was wondering—"

"Sorry, I don't talk to low lives like you," the female student said, laughing it off along with her lackeys. You just raised a brow then huffed at their annoying chortle.

"How rude," you stated as you rolled your eyes then luckily, saw two male students carrying guitar cases walking towards your direction so you went up to them and stopped them. "I'm so sorry, if I'm taking up your time but I have to get to this class or I'll be late. Do you know where class 4419 is?"

"We are actually headed to that class. Why dont you join us? We could always have another one," the two smiled then nodded, making you sigh in relief as you bowed towards them repeatedly. Oh yes! Thank goodness!

"Oh my god, thank you so much! Everyone's been a prick and just ignored me," you stated as you stood back up and you three finally went up the stairs and hurriedly walked towards room 4419, not wanting to be late on the first day. As soon as you entered the auditorium, the class was still noisy, which means that the professor still hasn't arrived yet. The two other males placed their guitar cases beside them and looked at you. "Ah, thank you, really," you thanked the two with a wide smile.

"Don't mention it. I'm Jisung," the ravenette stated as he smiled, his gums showing then pointed at the taller one with brown hair. "He's Seungmin. We're actually a part of the school's band. I'm the bassist while Seungmin plays the synthesizer and also the vocalist."

"Oh? That explains the guitar cases, but if Seungmin plays the synthesizer, why does he have a guitar case?" You asked Seungmin who just smiled as he gently patted the guitar case.

"I always bring this with me to reserve my boyfriend a seat. And this is also his, he also plays in the band," he answered as he looked back at you then smiled. "Since we've introduced ourselves, why don't you introduce yourself?"

You widened your eyes at the realization then frowned. "Oh my. Sorry, I totally forgot. My name's L/N M/N, the new student here at Miroh Academy. Pleasure to meet you," you introduced yourself as you smiled widely, shaking the two's hands and pursed your lips, you sighed.  "I don't think I'd be able to survive the first day of school if it weren't for you two."

"Oh, believe me. Students here in Miroh Academy are competitive and more than just looks, they have riches and what you call 'attitude'," Jisung stated as he shivered at the fact and looked back at you. "Miroh students could care less about academics. They're more worried of their own reputation and their status in life...well, some. I'm not much of an academic person but I can manage. The band is my family."

You smiled at Jisung's word and was about to speak up when their professor entered, making you pout as you looked front and joined in with the other students to greet the professor.

3 hours later, you muttered a small 'yes' as soon as you heard the bell ring and you could already feel how drained your brain was with all the informations Jisung and Seungmin have been telling you. You were already in your second class and now, your professor's dismissing you all with a lazy tone.

Guess he hates first days, too. You thought as you packed your books inside your bag as you hummed and looked at Jisung and Seungmin who grabbed their guitar cases. "Why didn't Hyunjin show up? That slacker. I'll make sure to give him an earful," Seungmin stated with a loud huff then looked at you as you chuckled. "We're going to the band room, wanna come with us?"

You thought for a while before shaking your head, smiling towards then apologetically. "No. I can join you two next time. I'll be heading somewhere else. You two have fun at the band," you stated as you stood up, got your bag, placed it on your shoulder, and waved goodbye before exiting the classroom. You wondered for a while before finally deciding to walk up the stairs and went to the farthest top of the school. You were planning to buy some time at the school's rooftop since you just felt like it..and maybe to have some alone time with your manhwas.

Upon arriving, you were glad it wasn't locked so you entered the rooftop cautiously and closed the door behind you. You walked towards a corner and sat there, placing your book bag beside you. You let out a satisfied puff as you pulled out your phone and airpods from your bag and did what you had to do before putting your airpods on your ears and listened to the nostalgic sound of piano musics as you read a manhwa.

Not too far away, Changbin was walking up the stairs towards the rooftop where he was gonna eat. He was carrying his wooden lunch box and tumbler as he walked up the stairs with heavy steps. He had a scowl on his face, pissed off at his professor who told him he was a nuisance, which was partially true but you can never ever judge a book by it's cover. "Fuckin' fuck."

As he approached the school's rooftop, he could hear a few noises, like a page being turned. He shrugged it off as being crazy for hearing such things before finally entering the rooftop and walked to his usual spot, not expecting a person to be there.

"Hey," he called you but you were busy reading your manhwa and listening to piano music that you failed to notice Changbin. "Hey, moron! I'm talking to you."

Finally noticing you had airpods on, he scoffed then lightly kicked your leg. Finally noticing his presence, you blinked before looking up and Changbin swore he could hear silver bells ringing in his ears as he stared at your amazingly handsome face. You were really cute in his perspective and unlike other students, you don't seem to be afraid of him.

Students at Miroh Academy would immediately cower in fear once they see his face, but you didn't seem to be fazed nor wavered. He liked it. Wait, what?

You smiled at him before pausing the music and pulled out one ear bud. "Oh, hello. I thought I was the only one here. When did you arrive?" You asked the other as you scooched to give the guy some space to sit in, patting the spot beside you before going back to reading. "Don't mind me. You can eat while I read in peace."

Changbin scowled as he sat down a few inches away from you and opened his lunch box, placing his black metallic hydro flask beside him. He began to eat his pork cutlets and just chewed on it as he pretended you weren't there with a cold look. Come to think of it, you still haven't eaten breakfast so having to endure your hunger was hard, especially when the person next to you was eating pork cutlets and it's savory scent hitting your nose everytime you—

"What was that?" Changbin asked as you looked at him then blushed in embarrassment, you must've not heard but you were pretty sure your tummy rumbled. "Are you hungry?" Hw asked as he looked at you then raised a brow.

"No, no. It's fine. I'll—" you weren't able to finish your sentence when you heard your stomach rumbling again. You looked away in shame and let out an awkward chuckle. "Ah..haha. Sorry, I still haven't eaten breakfast."

"Tsk, don't fuckin' starve yourself, stupid," he stated as he took one more bite of the cutlet before placing the lunch box down beside your knee, huffing as he crossed his arms. "Eat," he demanded as he avoided eye contact, only staring at the other side of the rooftop.

You looked at the wooden lunch box before grabbing it hesitantly, picking it up then ate a piece of the cutlet. Your eyes twinkled in amusement and hummed in satisfaction as you chewed on the cutlet silently. "Wow! This food tastes so good!" You said as you began to eat more. "Did you make this?"

"No. Kicked a student's stomach to give it to me," Changbin answered blatantly as he shrugged as if that was nothing to be worried about, making you choke on the food and began coughing. "Hm. I've figured you'd do that. Here," he stated as he took his hydroflask and offered it to you.

You immediately got the tumbler and drank all of it's content. "You kick a student's stomach to get food? That's rude! Who knows if that student is already starving right now. You better go back there and give him some food, too!" You demanded as you glared at Changbin who seem unmoved. What the hell is wrong with this guy? He thinks kicking someone's stomach is great? You thought as you placed your hand on your hips.

"You're not scared of me?" Changbin asked as he raised a brow in confusion. You looked at his eyes, blinked twice before shaking your head.

"Why would I be? I mean sure, I'd be scared if you kicked my stomach, but I'll fight back, so—"

"Calm down, fucker. I was just kidding. I cooked those cutlets myself," Changbin stated with a 'tsk', making you sigh in relief as you watched him clean his ears out with his pinky. "You sound like my mother. Jeez. I already receive a lot at home which is why I live alone now and now you?"

You just chuckled as you continued to eat the cutlets, not noticing the curious look Changbin sent your way. You hummed as you began to eat the cutlets with a huge smile. "You think you can make more of these stuffs for me?"

He scoffed and glared at you. "The fuck do you think I am? Your fuckin' butler? No way! You have hands, why don't you cook for yourself?" Changbin stated as he crossed his arms and closed his eyes as he let the cold wind hit his face, his hair flowing with the wind.

"I could, but your cooking tastes better than my own. But I'm also a lazy person so I don't think I can. You don't want me to starve, right?" You stated as you poked his sides, making him scowl as he removed your fingers from him.

"I didn't want to, but since you're so persistent, fine," Changbin stated as he huffed. Chuckling, you clapped your hands and raised your hands in victory.

Later, while you were packing Changbin's hydroflask and wooden lunch box, you two heard the bell ring so you stood up and got your bag, placing your airpods back in their case and locked your phone. Changbin stood up as well and patted his pants off before putting his hands in his pocket. "What's your next class?"

"Uhm..History," you answered with uncertainty but nodded once you saw it was indeed History. You smiled and looked back at Changbin who dusted off his hands.

"Alright—"

Before Changbin could even leave, you held onto his wrist and smiled apologetically before holding onto the hem of his sleeve. "Can you maybe show me where my History Class is? It's Room 0325."

"Tsk. What a nuisance."

Was what Changbin said but nonetheless lead you to your History class, afraid you'll get lost somewhere inside the halls of this huge building. "Hey. Since we're now like friends—"

"Who said?" Changbin stated as he placed his arms behind his head and rolled his eyes. "Just 'cause we had a little chit chat back there, doesn't make us friends automatically. Besides, you're way too uhm..how do I put this..pure, I guess? You're too good to be friends with me no, you can't be friends with me."

"No way! I want to be friends with you. Let's start with introductions. I'm L/N M/N. I hope we get along well," you stated as you chuckled and held onto Changbin's hand, making him jolt in surprise as he looked at you. "Hey, tell me your name."

"Changbin."

"Ah! Hi, Changbin. Let's be friends—"

"Your class is here," he stated as you looked at the door then let go of his hand. You smiled as you looked back at Changbin then took out a lollipop. You took his palm and placed the candy on it, making him confused. "What's this for?"

"I can smell your cigarette on you. Why don't you lessen it? That's gonna be the death of you," you stated as you smiled genuineky. "Let's see each other tomorrow. Bye, Binnie," you said as you waved goodbye and entered the classroom.

"Huh. Binnie. What a kid."

-----

Months had went by and you were already getting known at the whole school. Not because you did something heroic or bitchy nor become a legend or prodigy but because you were friends with Seo Changbin. A kind-hearted and jolly boy friends with the school's infamous bad boy? What a strange yet cute combination.

"Binnie," you called out as you scrunched your nose, making Changbin face you as he carried both yours and his bag on his shoulder. The amount of convincing Changbin had to do just so he could get to carry your bag was enough to write a full 20 chapter book. "Do you still smoke?"

"Yeah. Why?" Changbin answered honestly as he sneered at one student, who immediately walked away. Changbin chuckled darkly before he stopped as you slapped his arm, scolded him with your 'scary' eyes. "Ow."

"Stop scaring students," you stated then gave him a lollipop, which Changbin immediately unwrapped and placed it inside his mouth. "I can smell the smoke on you. You know that can cause you to die, right?" You stated as you stood a distance away. Now, he probably knows the reason why you keep moving away from him.

"So what? You want me to stop smoking?" Changbin sassed as he scoffed which made you shake your head then nod before sighing.

"Well, yeah. That can rapture your lungs and I'm always with you. You do know that second-hand smoking is far more dangerous than first-hand?" You reasoned out and Changbin furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at your sulky face. He stopped his tracks and looked at you.

"No."

"That's fine. I'm not forcing you anyway. I'll—"

"M/N!"

You looked back, so did Changbin, and smiled widely upon seeing both Seungmin and Jisung running towards you two. "Seungmin, Jisung! Hey! Haven't seen you guys yesterday during classes. Were you at the band room the whole day?"

"Yep! We're preparing for the upcoming competition next week," Jisung answered as he looked at Changbin who was standing closely behind you, a scary glare sent their way, making Jisung and Seungming shiver in fear. They looked back at you and smiled.

Then, seconds later, you heard your phone ring. "Ah, my phone's ringing. Probably my mom. You three stay here first," you excused yourself. Your two friends wanted to let you stay badly but they had no choice but to be stuck with Changbin.

Then, you moved away and accepted the call as you walked a few distances away from them. Seungmin and Jisung looked at Changbin who was looking at them with a scary glint in his eyes. "Y-You're Hyunjin's friend, right?" Seungmin asked which Changbin just answered with a nod.

"You two are M/N's friends, right?" He asked back, the two nodding immediately, not wanting to get beat up by this muscle boy. "Does he ever tell you two that he hates me? He kinda sounds like he hates me."

"Hate? More like 'love'. Bud, you are the only name that comes out of his mouth everyday we're with him. Changbin this, Changbin that. Although, he keeps telling us how it worries him that you might die because of your smoking habit," Jisung answered as he smiled genuinely at Changbin who sighed. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing."

The next few days, you didn't exactly know what happened between Changbin, Jisung, and Seungmin but as soon as you returned, Changbin looked sullen, as if he was defeated. "What did Seungmin and Jisung tell you last week?" You asked, a bit curious and suspicious. Were they backstabbing me? Nah. I don't think so.

"Nothing. Just bunch o' shits I could care less for," he answered as you two walked up the stairs towards your second to the last class you had for that day. "Just don't mind it."

"How can I not? You seriously looked like you were sad. What happened, Binnie?" You asked again, worried. You saw how Changbin hesitated so you sighed then held onto his hand. "Well, I'm just here to tell you that if you ever need a friend to rely on, I'm always here, alright?" You reassured the other who frowned, not liking the fact that you two are still friends. He wants to be more than just friends. He wanted to tell you he loves you but he couldn't. He has never ever confessed to any person. Ever.

He only had casual flings and a few fucks but he had never ever fallen in love with someone before so now he's panicking. How can he confess to you? He tried to show it by actions like quitting his habit of smoking, helping you out, cooking food for you, making you laugh and smile, and even walking you home. Guess it still isn't enough. He thought so he immediately did what came first to his mind as he stopped.

"M/N-ah," Changbin called in a gruff voice, making you stop in your tracks as you looked back at Changbin. You raised your eyebrows and smiled, as if to tell him you were listening. Changbin closed his eyes before opening them again and sighed. "Do you want to come over to my house?"

You looked at him, bewildered. That was sudden. I mean, I don't have anything planned later. I'll just tell mom I'll be going to Changbin's. You smiled as you chuckled then nodded as you got your bag from Changbin. "Sure! I'll be waiting for you later then. My classes end at 6:30."

"Alright. I'll come get you there," Changbin said as he smiled at you softly, watching you enter the room with a wave.

"Oh ho ho, is our Changbinnie going soft?" Hyunjin teased as he walked with Seungmin who smiled. Changbin cleared his throat before he rolled his eyes then tsked. "Huh. Guess he only has a soft side for his M/N."

"Quit it, Hwang."

Part 2

[damnzawa]

henlo i'm not sure what your rules are for requests so i'm sorry if i'm doing this wrong i just love your writing uwu 👉🏼👈🏼 aizawa with an hero!s/o turned into a neko because they got hit by a quirk after fighting some villain? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

(CAT)ASTROPHE — A. SHOUTA

Note(s): OMG ?? I ?? AM ?? SO ?? FLATTERED ?? THAT ?? YOU ?? LIKE ?? MY ?? SHITTY ?? ASS ?? AND ?? CLICHE ?? WRITING ?? also i live for these types of scenarios SO EFF YES

Warning(s): Poorly written fight scene, Aizawa having a mental breakdown, Cat Fluff

...

Being a pro-hero comes with a lot of pros and cons. For some, the pros may outweigh the cons and vice versa. Some even has a healthy balance of both. While you, you were one of the people who have pros outweigh the cons.

You weren't really the pro-hero to compete for the spotlight but you still had a good number of people who knows of you and what you could do. Though, you aren't as flashy as the others, you had a unique charm to you that draws people's attention towards you.

It was that charm that drew the infamous hobo man of U.A. to you, all in his yellow, shining (not really) sleeping bag glory. Though at first, he was irritated at the fact that you were just a natural at everything and everybody just seemed to love you. But as time went by, he realized that this charm of yours has truly captivated him. You weren't like the other pro-heroes he had met. No. You were unique. One of a kind. Genuinely different from the others.

After months of (silent) pining, he decided to just fuck it and ask you out on a date, in which surprisingly you happily agreed to. As time progressed, and two dates became 3, 4, 5, and counting, he got to know more sides of you. More characteristics to add to your charm. And by the time you reached your 2nd year anniversary, you guys decided to move in together—which was by far the greateat decision you and Aizawa has ever made.

Your charms are a part of your pros. It's what makes you, you. But unfortunately, you had yet to learn that it was one of your cons too.

It was the usual night patrol. Check any suspicious activity, check if anyone's doing crimes, check up on the stray cat on the alley, repeat. Honestly, some times patrols can be quite a bore. But you didn't mind. It was part of the job after all.

Cautiously walking down the street, you suddenly heard a scream from one of the alleys nearby. You quickly sprinted into action, not sparing another second as you rushed into the scene of the crime.

"Please! Don't hurt my child!" The woman screamed as the villain inched closer to them. Silently creeping up on the thug, you noticed that the villain had a weapon—a gun to be exact which was gonna be a pain if they ever shot the woman and/or his child. "Please! It's all I have! I promise!" A robbery? In the night? Typical villain move.

"Step away from them." You commanded the villain as you activated your quirk. A force field acting as a shield appeared out of nowhere, protecting the woman and her child from harm. You could tell that the woman was relieved, however, the child was still crying.

The villain chuckled as he turned around to face you, your hero name rolling off his tongue in a sinister way. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the saviors of society! The heroes! Protecting the world from evil doers such as myself." You could feel a speech coming. You honestly could feel it. "At least that's what you think. You heroes think you're good shit after taking down some bad guys but do you ever wonder about those who also suffer because of you?" He pointed the gun towards you making you squint at him. "I lost my family! Because of you guys! Because of that stupid Endeavor! You don't really care about the people! You just care about the fame! The money! The recognition you'll get after locking us all up in jail!"

"I assure you, heroes are not like that. Sure we have our own ambitions, but we all protect the people. That's our number one priority." Your response made him snarl. "And as much as I would love to stay and chat..." You activates your quirk once again, this time making whips out of light. "...It's time to pay for your crimes." You attacked him with the whip to which he skillfully dodged. He appeared from place to place with a blink of an eye, making it hard for you to apprehend him.

'Shit. A teleportation quirk? That's gonna be a pain in the ass.'

Dodging his punches that came out of nowhere, you kicked him in the gut. After reading watching his moves while dodging, you figured out that he has this pattern. He would first attack you in the back—which caught you by surprise the first time—then he would go for your front then your sides. It was the repeating pattern he used on you, so after getting used to it, you finally had the upper hand.

He was thrown a bit from the force of your kick but quickly recovered from it. He attacked you with another punch on your left which you countered by grabbing on his arm and twisting it until you heard a crack.

'Well now he certainly can't punch with that one.'

"You bitch!" He pulled out his gun and repeatedly fired shots at you. Every shot was a miss and then finally you encaged him in a box of light.

"Sweet dreams." And with that, you knocked him out with your quirk.

After putting on quirk nullyfing cuffs and a rope made out of light around his body, you checked up on the victims. The woman was repeatedly thanking you while the child was still shaken up.

"Hey now kiddo. It's alright. You're safe now." You approached him with a gentle smile on your face. You were about to place comforting hand on his shoulder when he suddenly shot up.

"No! Get away from me and my mom!" A sudden force emitted from his body as he pushed you to the ground.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry about that!" You stood up and brushed yourself off as the woman repeatedly apologized for her son's behavior.

"No ma'am. It's alright. I'm fine, no harm done. See?" You flashed her a smile. "Kiddo, it's alright now. I'm a pro-hero. Police are on the way. Can you stay for a bit and tell them what happened?" The boy reluctantly nodded which made you smile even wider. "That's great then! You were brave out there kiddo."

"I'm sorry for using my quirk on you..." The boy muttered. You ruffled his hair and told him that it was alright. Though, you would surely see a paramedic later.

After the police arrived and collected your statements, you headed home with a headache. Apparently, the woman and her child doesn't know what his quirk actually is. The robbery might have triggered his quirk and you were the first one to be hit with it.

Great.

Just great.

You just hoped Aizawa was home too. You clearly need some of his A+ cuddles to ease the pain.

You arrived at your shared apartment shortly, but before you could even reach your shared bedroom, you blacked out.

...

Aizawa Shouta wasn't having the greatest day of his life. An eventful and rowdy day at U.A, then an eventful and extra rowdy patrol at night all while running with 3 hours of sleep? Yep. Not the greatest day of his life.

The grumpy man groaned as he remembered the stack of papers waiting for him back home. He could already feel the pain he was about to endure for the greater good of the future heroes he was teaching. He frowned as he imagined Kaminari's sloppy handwriting—and a possible doodle of him—in his homework, he could also imagine the cluster of words that didn't make sense brought to him by Mina Ashido.

But he could also imagine you greeting him with a kiss as usual. He could imagine your arms wrapped around him in a loving embrace, washing out the stress he previously had. He could imagine you rolling your eyes at him as he complained about you not getting enough sleep. He could imagine you helping him grade those forsaken essays he made his students do.

Well, maybe this day wasn't so bad for him. After all, he had you to go home to.

After opening the door, he expected you to greet him with open arms and ask him how his day went. He expected you to make fun of his struggles as a teacher and remind him that it was his choice to teach to begin with. But instead he was met with silence and no you.

To: Y/n

From: Shouta

Are you patrolling late tonight?

He waited for a few minutes but he didn't recieve a reply. He sent another message, and another, and another, until he finally decided to wash up and wait up for you just incase anything happens.

Just as he was about to enter your shared bedroom, he noticed your hero costume on the floor, a lump of something breathing underneath it. He lifted your hero costume, revealing a (h/c) cat—who stirred at his actions—sleeping peacefully. His hand instinctively reached down to pet it, feeling the smooth fur on his fingertips. The petting caused the animal to wake up, it's tired eyes looking at him with such warmness it was almost so familiar yet he couldn't remember where it's from.

"Shouta?" Aizawa froze on the spot as he heard your voice leaving the cat's mouth. He blinked owlishly, trying to process what the hell happened. Did the cat just speak? And did the cat sounded just like you?

"Why the hell are you so big? Did something happen?" You—the cute cat infront of him—asked as you unconsciously started to rub your cat chin into his shoulder.

"Y/n, I should be the one asking you that." You perked up at his response, head tilting as you waited for an answer.

"What do you mean?" Oh god you were giving him the cute eyes.

"Y/n, you're a cat."

"I'm a cat." You repeated. "Wait—what?" You blinked as you realized what had happened. Oh. So this was that child's quirk. "Shit."

"Shit indeed." Aizawa picked you up gently and placed you on the bed. "Mind telling me what happened?"

"Ok so..."

...

Aizawa secretly carried a laser on him the next day. You were dismissed of your hero duties for a week (because that's how long the quirk's gonna last) and was stuck in the apartment all day so he figured you could use a little fun right?

Right...

You greeted him as usual, but instead of human you, cat you is rubbing your body around his ankles and making a '8' shape as you circled his feet. It was quite cute to be honest. He had a soft spot for cats and you after all. He tried his best not to melt then and there.

"I've got something for you." Your ears went forward and your tail erected with it's fur flat at the statement. Clearly, you were happy. Aizawa brought out the laser thingy he had and started pointing it towards the wall, to which you suddenly leaped for. You followed the dot everywhere it landed and Aizawa couldn't help but smile at the sight infront of him.

...

"Shouta." You poked his cheek. "Shouta." You poked it once again. Why were you poking him exactly? Well, you were hungry and it was in the middle of the night. You couldn't reach the pantry nor the fridge handle so you reluctantly asked Aizawa for help. Somehow, he wouldn't budge. After poking him a couple more times, he opened an eye that showed that he was clearly annoyed by your behavior.

"What?" Came his gruff reply.

"I'm hungry." Aizawa sighed as he stood up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

"Fine." Sluggishly walking towards the kitchen, he looked at you silently trailing behind him. "You want tuna?"

"Haha, very funny Shou."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Yes please."

...

You purred as Aizawa rubbed the spot behind your ears. It was becoming a habit for Aizawa to pet and rub you like this and honestly, he was enjoying it—not that he'd ever tell anyone about it.

You insisted to not cancel your annual dinner date at your shared apartment which consisted of eating takeouts and watching whatever was on Netflix. You and Aizawa happily ate your food—you ate tuna... again—and now, the both of you were watching some Studio Ghibli film, well atleast you were supposed to.

You quickly got distracted once Aizawa started petting you, leading to you not focusing on the film at all. Aizawa's eyes was still on the film playing but you were sure he was also distracted. You found it a bit weird that the both of you quickly adjusted to this cat life and that neither of you freaked out at all. Maybe it was the pro-hero sides of you, who knows. But it was nice to see Aizawa helping you in any way that he can.

His petting abruptly stopped as he stiffled out a yawn. You looked at him and saw that he looked completely exhausted. More so than usual.

So, you hopped out of his lap and switched off the TV as you nudged Aizawa's leg with your paws.

"Come on Shou. Let's go to sleep."

Aizawa did not decline your offer and gladly followed you out of the room.

...

By the end of the week while having breakfast a loud 'poof' and smoke suddenly covered the whole room. After the smoke cleared, it revealed you in all of your naked human body glory.

"Welcome back, Y/n."

"Oh shut up, Shou."

ADDITIONAL NOTE(S)

This was fun to write! I hope I did this right though lolol. Also, requests are open!!

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

“WE ARE A TEAM!”

Angel Reyes x (pregnant) reader.

Chapter: 1

Chapter: 2

Chapter: 3

Word count: 1336

@iffoundmyhappythought asked: Angel falling for a girl who’s pregnant (father didn’t want anything to do with a baby) and her being hesitant to get involved with him because she couldn’t believe anyone would want to her with all the “baggage” she comes with. Would want her with all the baggage she comes with** but angel doesn’t care he’s so enamored with her and is excited to be a dad 😭🥰

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. Fluffy-daddy-Angel in da' house.

“ANGEL, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU SAY ‘EMPUJA’ AGAIN, I'M GONNA CUT YOU IN PIECES”, you cry yelling at him, taking his shirt between your fingers, till you're knuckles starts to white because the effort.

“Son, go away. Let me do this��.

“But pops...”

“ANGEL, GO FUCKING AWAY NOW”.

Pain. Your body is fully in pain with your legs open and four doctors helping with the childbird. You asked before to have some anesthesia, but they said that apparently you don't need it. Felipe holds your hand, leaving a kiss in your sweaty forehead while your boyfriend goes to the rest room, where the crew wait to know their niece Laura. You feel like Satan is inside you, pushing with all your might, thinking for a while you could break Felipe's hand.

It's been two hours since you were taken to that room, once your doctor said you were ready to give birth. Good god, you love your daughter, but why the fuck she's being so slow to meet the world? Is not that bad, she's gonna be surrounded by hot and grumpy old men who's gonna put a bullet without doubts in anyone who dares to make her suffer. They also had cool motorbikes and cook delicious food.

You push your body out again. One time. Two times. Three times more. At the fourth time you feel empty. A sharp cry floods the floor and you start to cry while your father-in-law kiss your cheek looking at the small baby. The doctors clean her with some warm water, putting her into a white blanket before leaving your daughter between your arms. You hug her softly looking up to the old man by your side with the happiest and tired smile you can show him. Everybody says that new-born babies are ugly, but Laura is the most beautiful in world.

“She's my granddaughter...”, Felipe says in tears with a whisper.

“Yes, she is”, you ask with a drowned yawn, before he takes her in his big hands.

──────────────

(Next morning)

The guys are drinking a coffee in the hospital hallway in front of the door of your room, where you're resting since Laura came to the world. You had no energies, so you fell sleep quickly. Everybody knows her. Everybody is there. The Mayans, Letti, Chuky, Vicki, even Chibs came from Charming to meet the new member of the MC.

“Is (Y/N) there?”

The men turn around, finding a younger man than is walking fast to them and pointing the room with a finger. Angel knows him. He saw his face in a picture, when you two move on together. He set it on fire. EZ looks at her brother, reading every gesture in him, putting a hand on his chest to stop the crazy shit he wanna do. “Please, don't”, Felipe says, holding his shoulders with an arm. But no one could stop him, not even Alvarez who cuts his steps.

“ 'fuck you doin' here, ah?”, Angel pushes Marcus away, upping his arms with anger and this kind of walk he uses when he's gonna beat your ass with no regrets.

“I came to meet my daughter. Who are you?”

Wrong words with ten men in front of him, who can kill him in the worst ways possible and sleep before like babies. Crossed arms, upped chins, security poses behind Angel. He laughs, licking his own lip with his eyes away. He's trying to control hisself, for you and Laura. You two don't deserve that a day full of happiness be ruined because of him.

“You better go away and never come back, puto cobarde”. (fucking coward)

“I'm not goi...”

Before Matt can finish the sentence, Angel's rings break his nose with a punch. Blood in the wall, falling to the floor, whinings. The oldest Reyes' brother lay on top of him, taking his red sweater with angry fingers, face to face. “Listen, motherfucker. If ya' dare to come back one fucking time again, I'm gonna make ya' dig your own grave. After that, I'm gonna tear off your skin and make ya' eat'. And then I'm gonna bury ya' alive”, he's eyes are fully open with the crazy mood can screw the shit out of Bishop, Galindo and whoever thinks that is on top of world.

EZ takes him by his shoulders, while Chibs checks the blade of his knife is well sharpened, 'cause he's gonna make sure Matt remember who the fuck are Laura's family. Coco brings the Reyes a coffee an put him apart, Creeper and Gilly takes the other man outside being followed by the crew looking for an alley. He never should come back and he's gonna regret it the rest of his life.

You wake up slowly and disoriented. For a moment, you don't know where you are. You still tired and feel a pain you've never experienced before. ‘Pi, pi, pi’, that sound is giving you a horrible headache, trying to incorporate yourself. Your weak arms falls laying again on the bed. You have to wait a couple minutes till your eyes get used to the white light and the sunny morning that iluminates the room. “Angel...?” You say with the dry throat. You can hear what's happening outside of the hospital room and you're shaking afraid. Tears falling down in your cheeks, calling Angel again with some coughs interrumpting it. The Mayan runs to the bed, having a seat and holding you between his strong arms. He fulls you of kisses all over your face.

“It's okey, mi dulce, I'm here... I'm here”, he says trying to calm you down with soft caresses on your back. “Laura is ok, and we're ok. He's not gonna come back”.

“He can't if he doesn't have legs”, Coco enters to the room talking more seriously than ever before. He hugs you too, being followed by Letti.

“Can... Can I hold her...?”, you ask looking at the baby resting in the cradle at your right. Angel nods walking to your daughter to bring you. She's the most beautiful creature in life, sleeping peacefully. You know you can't be more in love with someone else than with her. She's everything. She's gonna be a warrior.

Five minutes later, Bishop call to the open door, with the crew behind him. He carries a bag in a hand.

“What's up, mami?”, Tranq doesn't want to wait, hugging you softly and giving you a kiss in your cheek. “We bring Laura two presents”. He pokes her nose lovingly while the guys stand around the bed with a big smile on his faces.

Bishop takes a black blanket out of the bag with the Mayans' icon embroidery on it. You know Vicky made it and that's so kind.

“Show her our fav, show her our fav!”, Riz is very excited, taking it off the president's hands. Seconds later, he up on air a little vest. One exactly that their wearing. “Now she's an official member of Mayans”.

You start to laugh, leaving away the tears. Felipe holds Laura in his arms, moving like he's dancing to calm the girl who start to wake up. You take the leather vest, brushing with your fingers the patch at the right that says “miembro de honor”.

“Laura Reyes, miembro de honor of Mayans, soun' fuckin' good, man!” Angel says making some noise with his hands on the bed. “I'm gonna teach her to beat everyone ass! Yo! No one gonna bother my fockin' daughter!”

[elusive---ivory]

The Woman In Velvet pt. 5

Aaaaa, this is a lot one. This one is just all fluffy and fun.

WARNINGS: None, just fluff

PAIRING: Arthur x Oc.

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Three little girls were in the dining room, setting the table for their dinner.

"Ha, Seriously Sandy? You still don't have a date for Friday?" The girl with dimples giggled.

The girl with black hair shook her head and shrugged. "Looks like I won't be joining you for your triple date."

The girl without dimples gave her a shocked look and gasped. "Sandy! Don't be such a debbie downer. I'll set you up with someone."

The girl with dimples scoffed. "Really? Because, the last time you played matchmaker, you set up Dollar Dave with his sister."

The two sisters bickered until a large man appeared in the entrance of the dining room.

"Girls." The man spoke. His voice was raspy. He had a thick, black, cigar hanging out of his mouth. He looked over at the girl with black hair. The man took a seat at the newly set table.

"Deliah, Destiny, if your cousin doesn't wish to attend your ridiculous triple date, then don't force her."

The girl with black hair turned away from the man and muttered a small "Thank you" under her breath. She sat next to him, but scooted away a few inches. The two other girls rolled their eyes and sat down with them.

"Besides, I think Sandy and I would have lots of fun without the two of you, ain't that right, doll?" His eyes were glued on the girl next to him. She gulped hard. She stared hard at her cousins.

They both stared back with menacing looks. Neither of them bothered to help.

Sandy woke up to a dreaded alarm clock going off.

'Funny,' she thought. Her alarm didn't work at all. She had planned on getting a new one, but it was her same alarm clock. As she opened her eyes a little bit, she took in her surroundings. She was in her bed, and in her usual nightie. What was different about today?

"Oh fuck." She said, aloud. Sandy looked around. She threw the bed sheets off her body and quickly ran into her living room.

Arthur was standing there in the kitchen, shirtless. Sandy approached him carefully, still not fully understanding what was going on. The early morning sun was slowly creeping outside the window. The small apartment was dark, beside the light of in the kitchen.

"Hey." Sandy said, quietly.

Arthur looked around him, slightly startled. He didn't expect her to be up yet.

Arthur smiled at her gently. "Good morning."

Sandy looked down, bashfully. "Yeah, what are you doing up?" She stepped into the florescent lighting of the kitchen.

Arthur shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

"Really? Did you fix my clock?" Sandy smiled, giggling slightly.

"Yeah, you talk in your sleep. You kept mumbling about the alarm, so I fixed it." Arthur answered, sheepishly.

"Also, we were on the couch when," Sandy cleared her throat, "we, ya know."

Arthur smiled. "You also sleepwalk."

Sandy giggled and gently punched his shoulder. "You got all of that from just spending the night with me. Color me impressed, Detective."

Arthur flinched at her sudden roughhousing, but chuckled at her joke. "Yeah, you know. I do stand up comedy."

Sandy raised her eyebrow. "Really?" She said, brewing her coffee.

Arthur nodded, shyly. "Yeah. Tomorrow night will be my very first gig."

"Huh." Sandy stirred her coffee. "Save me a seat in the front." She winked, booping his nose.

Sandy walked out of the kitchen. Arthur's eyes followed her dreamily.

Sandy finally got into her routine according, putting on a seemingly different work uniform. Instead of matted and ripped purple violet blouse, it was a red and black velvet with a black satin skirt. It wasn't at all comfortable, but she had to make do. She put on black heels matching the overall theme of the outfit. When she was done, she found her cheap frame glasses, and gently placed them on her face.

Sandy walked back into the kitchen to give Arthur a small peck on his cheek.

"I'm heading out. Here's the spare key, just incase you want to lounge around here for today." Sandy placed a small key in his hand. "Try not to burn down the apartment." She giggled stepping out of the door.

Arthur's eyes never left her figure once. She looked so elegant when she walked. His hand gently touched the cheek where she kissed him. It left him breathless.

The gloomy office building seemed to be even more dull and dreary than usual. Sandy sighed sitting there in her small cubicle.

"Hey, did you hear about those subway killings?"

Sandy overheard two coworkers talking. Often times when she eavesdropped she would mostly hear some stupid gossip like she fucked or he fucked her etc, but this seemed serious.

"Yeah, I did. I hear they were employees of ours."

This caught Sandy's attention. 'Employees?' She thought. She continued listening intently.

"Wayne Enterprises?"

"Yeah, I hear one of them was Dennis Cullen."

Sandy's eyes widened. 'Dennis is dead?' Half of her celebrated the death of that bastard, but it just seemed wrong. She snapped out of her thoughts when a coworker knocked on Sandy's cubicle.

"Sandy, the boss wants you."

She took a long sigh. She got out of her chair and walked down to the boss's office.

"Needed me, Mr. Don?" Sandy asked, being as polite as she could be.

A large man looked up at Sandy from his paperwork.

"Yes, please take a seat." Mr. Don gestured to the two chairs in front of him.

"Why were you not here yesterday?" His voice sounded frustrated.

"Well, sir, I was really sick, yesterday and-"

Mr. Don cut her off with a glare.

"Look, I'm too bent on excuses. Now, as you may know, Dennis, your associate, has recently passed away. It's a shame, I know, but he had lots of clients. Since he's gone, you have to take after his clients." Mr. Don looked back down at his paperwork.

Sandy stood there dumbfounded.

"Wait. Shouldn't the person getting his position get his clients?" Sandy crossed her arms.

Mr. Don looked at her begrudgingly. "Well, yes, but there's still so many clients he had. Most are pretty upset by the current circumstances. Could you please do these few clients?" Mr. Don held a sudden desperation in his gruff voice.

Sandy gave a defeated sigh. "Alright. I'll see what I can do about the clients."

Dennis would always brag about his clients and how high maintenance they were. How he was so lucky to always have meetings with the one and only, Thomas Wayne. His position was completely up for grabs.

Sandy didn't want Dennis's stupid position. Not like she could ever get get it. She was a woman working 45 hours a week, yet being paid so little.

'Why the fuck did people get so angry over some dudes getting killed on a subway?' Sandy growled in her thoughts, as she walked out of the office building.

All day clients were yelling and screaming about how they furious they were for not getting their fucking products. It gave her such a headache.

Her heels tapped the wet pavement. The lights of bars and restaurants colored the numerous puddles on the ground.

As she was walking down the street, she felt a pair of eyes on her.

Crack.

She turned around. Her eyes monitored the alleyway next to her. She strutted ahead, continuing her path, while being on high alert.

Crack.

She heard it again. She started walking fast. As she did so, Sandy glanced behind her. It was a silhouette of a man walking fast. Her heart stopped. She kept walking faster, until she was gently jogging in her heels. She was almost to the subway.

The man had finally caught up to her, and gently tapped her shoulder.

Sandy froze. She turned around to face her stalker.

Arthur smiled gently, taking off the yellow hood of his hoodie.

She sighed in relief. "Oh, thank god. Arthur, it's just you." Sandy smiled at her supposed stalker. "I thought you were the subway killer."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, so I've heard."

"How could you not? It's everywhere. Who cares about some assholes dying?" Sandy tapped around her coat. "Damn it." She hissed under her breath.

"Hey, Art." Sandy said, getting his attention.

Arthur tilted his head. "Hmm?"

"Do you think I can bum a cig?" Sandy asked, desperately.

"Uh, yeah sure." Arthur handed her a fresh cigarette.

Sandy lit the cancer stick, inhaling the dangerous smoke, then exhaling it out of her lungs.

"Thanks, Artie." Sandy smiled. "Say, you never told me why you were out here following me anyway?" She said, with the cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

Arthur looked down, almost like a guilty puppy.

"I, uh, was worried." Arthur said, twiddling his thumbs.

Sandy smirked. "Worried? Aww, Artie. You don't need to worry about me, sweets." Sandy pressed a small kiss on his cheek.

Arthur started fidgeting with the bottom of his hoodie. "Uhh, well, of course, I do, Sandy. It's dangerous."

Sandy giggled. "Ok, I guess you can walk me back to my apartment." She put out the cigarette, and linked arms with Arthur.

The subway was deserted. The florescent lights flickered on and off as the loud railings of the subway train moved by.

Sandy was seated by Arthur's side, leaning on him a bit. For Sandy, Arthur was like a breath of fresh air. He was so comforting and sweet. He listened to Sandy's problems, no matter how stupid they were to her.

"So, you're a party clown?" Sandy said, holding Arthur's hand in hers.

"Yeah, at least I was. I'm focusing more on my comedy career. I've got lots of jokes." Arthur put emphasis on the word lots.

"You said that this morning. Let me hear some of your jokes." Sandy said, interested.

Arthur eyes lit up.

"Oh? Let me get my joke book." Arthur reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn down journal. Arthur gently handed the journal to Sandy.

Sandy flipped through a few pages of the journal.

"Well, what do you think?" Arthur asked, impatient. He looked pretty anxious.

Sandy laughed a little.

"How come poor people are so confused? They don't make sense." Sandy read, still laughing. "That's a stupid joke."

Arthur frowned. "Oh."

Sandy immediately corrected herself. "No, no, no. It's great, Arthur. You're gonna be great. I know it."

Arthur's frowned disappeared, and turned into a smirk. "You think so?"

"I know so, babe." Sandy kissed his nose.

"Could I look through your book more?"

Arthur nodded.

Sandy looked through each page, but there's one page that caught her eye. It had a polaroid picture of her with twisted writings all over the page.

Mrz. Sandy Fleck

Mrz. Sandera Fleck

MY dEaR, Sandy

Sandy's eyes read the page over and over again. Arthur began to look anxious.

The subway came to a stop.

"This is our stop." Sandy handed his journal back to him. "And, by the way, it's spelled S-A-N-D-R-A." She said, stepping out of the subway doors. Arthur followed behind her.

[freigaeist]

namseok for no.11 and if you make it the usual amount of angsty i'm gonna cry.... just saying..... ily bea 💜

anja my dude my bestest my love, i’ll really try not to make it the usual amount of angst! i can do happy!!! i can do fun i can do this!!! /cracks knucklesupdate: i tried cried and am so, so sorry but ilu2 <3

send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic

11 things you said when you were drunk (namseok)

hoseok is woken up by the feeling of a headache working through his head with the intensity of a jackhammer. his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth and he is in need of painkillers and a shitload of water. telling by the ache of his legs and arms and the growl of his tummy he should maybe just get a new meat shell.

when he tries to get up his skull is being pierced, or at least it feels like it and he groans and presses his hands over his face carefully, his fingers damp and his body too hot, sweaty sheets curled around him, strangling him.

“oh my god-”

“-you’re awake! good then, i guess”, a low voice hums from somewhere above and his dizzy, tired thoughts (accompanied by a shrill tinnitus) are convinced it’s god he’s talking to before he remembers the last person he was with.

“hey noodles, mind sharin’ some water?”, hoseok croaks and reaches out blindly, eyes still closed against the bright light of a sunny day reaching through the window of what he supposes must be namjoon’s room, telling by the scent and the softness of the mattress underneath his tensed and exhausted body. namjoon gives him what he asks for, cool bottle a pleasure to his sweaty palm and he downs it within seconds, sighing loudly when done and throwing it in the general direction of the trash bin (and hears the satisfying rustle of the plastic bag shortly after).

a minute or two he lays there, forearm over his face, sprawled out on namjoon’s bed and he hears namjoon’s body shifting on the floor besides the bed. his friend is quiet, too quiet, he can tell though being hungover and still dizzy. so he turns his head with a frown, blinks down at namjoon and studies his face through irritated slits.

“hey!” he nudges namjoon’s knee, let’s his wrist stay there, balancing shakingly. his hand feels too heavy, his arm even more. namjoon looks up, all doe-eyed and pouting. that is unusual for him, except when he’s pretending - which he is right now.

oh shit.

“you’re quiet. did somethin’ happen yesterday?”, hoseok asks. his voice is hoarse and the faint sting in his throat tells him he must’ve been really loud yesterday. or worse. he hopes he just sung along too enthusiastically. namjoon shakes his head wildly, grins not broad but actually strained and since it doesn’t reach his eyes they stay wide open and give his expression a somewhat psychotic undertone.

“nope!”, he answers then, popping the last syllable and though hoseok’s frown deepens and he tilts his head to get a better look at the other namjoon doesn’t falter, just continues staring. which makes it very obvious to hoseok that something’s off; namjoon is one of the worst liars he knows but then again try fooling jung hoseok.

“you’re lying”, he deadpans and coughs out a laugh, sitting up with a heavy groan before he sits cross-legged and face to face with namjoon, staring at his every mimic and gesture. his thoughts are still a spiral downwards, faint memories a colorful blur but his observational skills are as sharp as always. namjoon presses his lips together, puts a hand on his neck as a poor excuse to lower his eyes and hoseok tilts his head slightly to the side.

“joon-ah, tell me. right now, or i’m gonna-”

“-you were, like, super drunk, okay? i don’t blame you, i really don’t!”, it bursts out of namjoon, he even raises his palms in a defending manner and once again blinks up at hoseok with wide eyes, tousled hair and one ear still red from where he slept on it like death itself, giving him an even more child-like, innocent appearance. hoseok thinks about that, or at least tries to, and pinches the bridge of his nose to numb the everlasting headache. inhaling deeply he tries to bring back any kind of memory of the former evening and night but there’s just the faint throb of the skull-piercing pain and a blur of colors, scents and noises mixing together to something far too psychedelic and fucked up for past-drunk hoseok and his confused and seemingly slightly scared friend.

“ ‘kay, cool. super drunk. what else we got?”, hoseok asks and doesn’t know if he really wants to know. does he? nonetheless, namjoon obediently answers, voice loud and jumpy:

“you- you said some things and man, it’s cool! nothing nasty, just as i dragged you home-”

“-you what? how drunk-”, hoseok interrupts annoyed.

“-yeah, i gave you a piggyback actually and-”, namjoon tries to continue.“-what the fuck! what the fucking-”, hoseok interrupts again, voice growing shrill.

“-watch your profanity!”

“why’d you have to gimme a piggyback? dude, how gone was i?”, hoseok asks, voice not quieter but less hysteric. not that he minds being dragged on namjoon’s slender form but how did he even, honestly. the guy is a walking disaster on two legs without holding up another weight close to his, all muscles and energy, on top of his clumsy bean sticks.

at that namjoon shrugs, kind of exaggerating, pulling a face of pure distress and desperately gesturing around with his hands and hoseok can see that he almost hits long, slender fingers against the bed frame. hoseok just groans again, presses one hand over his face and waves the other dismissively at whatever namjoon wants to say because he already knows.

“fine, get it, i get it! super gone, ‘kay!”, he murmurs defeatedly, brushing a hand through his hair he looks at namjoon’s bashful and overly attentive face again and wants to punch him in said face a bit.

“but what’s that face for. what did i say”, he asks in a deadpan voice, not even raising it in the end quizzically like asking but more like demanding an answer, very well aware of his drunken self spreading everything that swims and buzzes through his brain immediately by yelling it out into the world - or trying to tell whoever happens to be next to him at that given moment. namjoon opens his mouth, pauses, looks around in a call for help. he has a finger raised and points it at hoseok absentmindedly and seems very desperate to find a halfway okay and acceptable way to describe whatever it was that hoseok did and said last night.

hoseok’s insides curl into nervous snakes, clenching his fists he bumps them against his knees and a low and impatient hum grows in his throat, turning into a whiny and high-pitched noise, his voice wavering until he reaches out and shoves namjoon’s shoulder who grunts and falls back a little before opening his mouth.

“it’s actually kind of hard to replicate our dialogue. more of a monologue, though. your monologue, that is”, namjoon rambles and his hands are doing this nervous thing again where they fling around in vague gestures, tangled in his hair, resting on his neck, tapping against the curve of his jaw, his lips every now and then. it drives hoseok crazy and he wants to both slap namjoon’s hands down and hold them tight so namjoon can’t use them to distract his gaze and busy himself and yell at namjoon to finally spit it out.

“i swear to god if you don’t tell me-”

“-you don’t remember anything?”, namjoon desperately asks, loudly over hoseok and blinks up at him and when hoseok shakes his head he presses his lips together in defeat, dimples drawing deep and averting his eyes again he scratches his right brow before he sighs deeply.

“okay, fine. so, we were at the club, and then at another, we met a few people and you wouldn’t stop dancing-”

“-which is so unusual!”

“-please don’t interrupt me. it’s hard enough to try to tell you this without you commenting on everything!”“i’m super nervous, of course i’d comment on everything!”“i know your nervous behaviors, hobi, but please.”

“sometimes i want to choke you. no hard feelings!”, hoseok chirps sarcastically but gestures namjoon to continue and mimics locking his mouth, throwing away an imaginary key. his insides are still a mixture of iron pressing him into the mattress and jelly making him want to move all of his limbs at once, throw up and additionally maybe jump out of the window, he can’t stand the tension in the air, surrounding and suffocating them.

“so, we’re there and we both drink far too much, okay?”

“we’ve been there a gazillion-”

“-what did i say about interruptions!”

“continue, my dearest friend”, hoseok sighs and actually presses his palms over his mouth. namjoon rolls his eyes at that, swallows and scratches his lower back, eyes darting around in a search for the right words.

“it was just really weird? you were in a kind of sentimental mood, you know? it was round about two blocks from here when you suddenly sat down and didn’t wanted to go on anymore”, namjoon starts again and hoseok’s neck and shoulders tense. when he tries to picture the situation the image becomes more clear in his head, he thinks his memory is coming back, this is not a picture his mind makes up to underline and visualize a story.

there’s his arm around namjoon’s neck though the other is way taller than him but he always manages to pull him down to his level. he thinks he remembers namjoon’s army coat against his leather jacket, namjoon’s side pressed against his and a pained groan when hoseok tugs at him too abruptly, hears his own laughter throbbing inside of his head. okay, that’s fine.

“why did i sit down”, hoseok asks slowly and namjoon avoids his piercing gaze.

“i don’t know, you just said you wouldn’t go any further and that i have to carry you”, namjoon mutters and hoseok feels his ears getting red and a nervous laughter bubbling in his chest, leaving his throat loud and obnoxious.

“hah, why would i- but you carried me?”

“well i was tired and you were super drunk and i wanted us home and safe and-”

“joon-ah.”

“yeah, i convinced you that a piggyback is just as cool as being carried bridal style”, namjoon coughs out and lifts a hand to wipe his nose, actually hiding a lopsided smile. the burn of hoseok’s ears spreads onto his neck.

“are you serious, i did not-”

“yeah, you did. but i somehow managed to get you on my back and-”

“-oh god, no! wait”, hoseok exclaims, almost yells and covers his eyes, shakes his head like he wants to get rid of the image when it blossoms behind closes eyes.

there he sits, on the ground seemingly, the perspective ant-like and his hands reaching out towards namjoon who is bent forward in front of hoseok, a wasted and anxious expression on his face, lit up by streetlights grotesquely.

“did i make grabby hands at you?”, hoseok asks coyly and when namjoon doesn’t answer he peakes through his fingers and sees namjoon suppressing a smile by biting his lower lip and nodding slowly, looking up in amusement yet very carefully.

“you did make grabby hands, yeah. pretty cute. you remember?”

“i think i do. wish i would not”, hoseok mutters and rests his head in his hands, elbows steadied on his knees as the memories come crashing in.

he thinks he was hanging off namjoon’s back with loose limbs, arms dangling around his neck, his right cheek pressed to namjoon’s left and his legs softly kicking at the long, clumsy bean sticks carrying him ever so often. hoseok thinks he remembers that his belly was a warm, swirling mess that felt good and that his chest was bubbling and even warmer and feeling even better. his cheeks ache and maybe that is because he was grinning like an idiot the whole time, wasn’t he?

“and you said something about how i smelled good which i didn’t believe because we were just coming out of the club and everything was smoke and club and shit. but you insisted and i know better than to fight with an intoxicated hoseok”, namjoon finishes causally and hoseok hears his own voice ringing inside of his head, too loud and words slurring, hot breath against namjoon’s neck smelling like jägermeister and his head throbbing and flashes of what seems like electricity in his memory lighting up the scene but that was probably just cars passing by.

“you smell sooo good, joon-ah, sososo SO good! very, very good! i love your smell, joon-ahhh! you smell-”

“-jesus, joseph and maria, i know, ho- shit, oh crap, you’re so fuckin’ heavy i’m gonna pass the fuck out! stop fuckin’ rubbing your face into mine, dude, i’m gonna fall over, shit fuck for fucks- fucking fuckery!”

namjoon has that habit of swearing very intensely and creatively as soon as alcoholic liquid hits his tongue and he didn’t disappoint this time, hoseok still hears his angry growls and breathy swears as lively as possible.

“uhm, do you remember what you said close to home? and, uhh, here?”, namjoon asks quietly, watching hoseok’s face going through different changes of emotions that come to an halt at something close to disgust, terror and embarrassment. he snaps out of it and blinks at namjoon over his hands, palms pressed together with fingers ghosting over his mouth as if he’s praying. for a complete loss of memory of the last night, probably.

the low hum that leaves his throat softly could be understood as “no” and namjoon nods, disappointment washing over his face and it’s that kind of expression that makes hoseok’s insides squirm painfully. his heart skips a beat and he wants to reach out to namjoon, his fingers are twitching but he presses them against his lips again, spreading them, hearing his knuckles protest lightly.

wasn’t it always like that? he really wants to reach out, unsure what his fingers want to do and would end up doing but it’s an urge he can hardly suppress and another reason why he isn’t around as often anymore. namjoon is his friend since forever and he doesn’t want to make namjoon uncomfortable, things between them stiff and awkward.

but things are stiff and awkward right now, namjoon is keeping words in the back of this throat that once belonged to hoseok. he spit them out, let them stumble out and now namjoon has to carry the burden of whatever he said and forgot. now namjoon feels bad about telling hoseok when it was him who said things he probably meant but didn’t want the insignificantly younger to hear, things he doesn’t want him to know.

hoseok is feeling sick, he wants to throw up just to release that guilt pressing down onto his stomach but knows it wouldn’t solve anything. so instead he reaches out, fingers ghosting over namjoon’s bleached hair and tips pressing against his oily forehead, shoving lightly. namjoon whines softly, his lashes flutter and he closes his eyes when his head rolls back onto his shoulders again. there’s those little wrinkles on his chin as he purses his lips, pouting. he looks soft and tired and vulnerable and hoseok’s heart aches a little bit, throbbing heavily.

“namjoon-ah, please tell me what i said. i gotta know”, he pleas quietly, voice wavering in annoyance but soft undertone comforting. namjoon releases a heavy breath through his nose, rubs at his eyes with one hand, fingers and thumb pressing into his skin. he continues doing that whilst mumbling an answer: “well, the things you said.. it’s more about how you said them? like i said, you were super emotional and it hit me kinda hard? first of you told me you loved me more often than usual, okay?”

hoseok swallows around the lump building in his throat and though his ribcage tightens he shrugs it off with another laughter, just as loud and obnoxious as the first.

“dude, we say that all the time-”

“-i know but it felt weird? not wrong but the way you said it..”

“hey, unlike other people-”, he coughs and let’s it sound like kim seokjin in between, “-i’m not a performance major slash acting student but let me have my moments!”, hoseok brushes it off, his neck and ears heating up too fast, his throat still tight, his voice overly loud in his ears. namjoon just looks at him and suddenly he seems like he has lived through five of their lifespans combined, with his fingers resting against his jaw he appears nothing but disbelieving.

hoseok’s strained smile falters and dies on his lips and he blinks once, twice before sucking in a breath and holding it just to feel the lack of oxygen making him feel even worse physically for a reason other than his conflicted emotions and the swirl of uncertain numbing coherent thoughts. he just looks at namjoon as namjoon looks at him and because hoseok is slouched over, with his elbows resting on his knees, and namjoon sitting on the ground cross-legged yet still tall they’re kinda even.

and it is so easy for hoseok to read namjoon. whilst namjoon is studying books hoseok kept studying people and he just reads in between the lines, studies the wrinkles between namjoon’s brows and the curve of his lips and the different depths of his dimples and he just knows. but at this very moment hoseok feels like looking at a book about a species he doesn’t know in a language not known to mankind and he swallows at the sting of the distance that forms between them. if hoseok would lift up his hand he could easily pull namjoon into some awkward but reassuring half-hug, laugh it off, say something along the lines how stupid they’re being and that they should just get back to normal and that he’s sorry - but he doesn’t.

hoseok doesn’t and namjoon doesn’t do anything either and hoseok feels that namjoon is reaching out to him, that he’s very carefully, tenderly but also precisely with the certain of a surgeon is pressing his finger onto hoseok’s softest spot that he hid so well. and it’s so hard not to waver and fall apart under namjoon’s tired and questioning, pleading gaze that he feels it physically and it’s more exhausting than any choreography, babysitting his younger cousins, running after the bus and night’s out dancing and drinking will ever be.

and he’s foolish to feel relief when namjoon lowers his eyes once again because namjoon’s favored weapon is still his words and how easy they seem to find him, sliding off his tongue artistically and spot-on, mustering to hide even the sharpest needles and venomous knives in candy cotton and soft silk.

“you know what hit me the hardest, hoseok? you said.. you really said that, and your voice, it was so soft i wish you’d remember”, namjoon begins and he actually huffs out a laugh at that, shaking his head he rubs at his jaw furiously and hoseok cringes inside and hates himself because that is definitely not a good sign, one of namjoon’s gestures of uncertain and how he must fight with himself internally.

“namjoon. please”, hoseok whispers, voice too soft and hoarse at the same time and the tension feels so thick that he can’t fidget around anymore, it’s handcuffing him and he sits there unmoving and practically waits for death to come and tear him apart, take him away.

“you said”, namjoon begins and his voice is suddenly very loud and vehement and hoseok feels the vibration of emotion trying to break the steadiness more than he hears it though it is audible; namjoon’s voice shakes ever so slightly, “you said you want to grow old with me.”

hoseok wants to swallow but his throat is too tight. he wants to lick his lips but his jaw is clenched and his nostrils dilate as he tries to get oxygen into his system, he won’t open his mouth. if he does he’ll cry and he can’t, he simply can’t. neither is he blinking because his eyes are burning and he can’t move an inch, his spine feels twisted, is aching and his stomach is so heavy he thinks it pulls him right through the mattress deep down under. he just looks at namjoon who looks at him again and his eyes are so goddamn huge, they’re so huge, almost round and there’s so much swimming in these orbs and his full lips are slightly agape and his chin is doing that wrinkly thing again and hoseok wants to curl himself around namjoon to protect him - but how to protect namjoon when the enemy is hoseok himself?

i want to grow old with you.

hoseok thinks he remembers saying that, he feels his dry tongue twitching at that comfortably like it said those words already and he wants to die. it’s not big, beautiful  and breath-taking words that belong on cinema screens but it’s so intimate and tender, so specific. he knows his drunk self, has seen videos and has scared people away with how much of an emotional train wreck he becomes. but never ever did he think it was possible to hit namjoon with his emotional baggage, with this shitload of burning hot affection and twisting cold uncertain pulsing inside of his chest whenever he just thinks about the younger. but he did and he wants to die.

grow old with me.

hoseok’s lips part and he sucks in a heavy breath, raises trembling fingers to shield his face and releases a shuddering breath. he has to explain himself, he has to say something, anything to make things right again and put namjoon’s feet back onto even ground because he still looks at hoseok like he’s lost somewhere between the hysterical shouts of i love you and the last sleepily sighed grow old with me.

“look, namjoon-”

“-is it true?”, namjoon asks and his voice his high and thin with timidity and hoseok looks at him, startled. namjoon’s face, however, is the opposite; there’s a stern frown sitting on his face and he’s pressing his lips together, leaning forward and he seems almost like he’s threatening hoseok to tell the truth. the latter lets out a huff that isn’t anywhere close to a laughter and wets his lips, blinks against the burn covering his eyes.

“i guess”, he then answers quietly, watching namjoon’s every move. namjoon’s lashes flutter before he nods slowly, pondering.

“i mean-”, hoseok hurriedly speaks up again, voice loud and shrill breaking through the faint throbbing in his chest, the tinnitus in his head, “-i mean, sure we wanna grow old with each other, you’re one of my bestest friends!”

namjoon’s face falters and it’s one of the ugliest and saddest things hoseok ever had to witness and his insides curl around, his bones crunching under the weight of guilt dripping down on hoseok like hot, fluid iron and he chokes out something between a laughter and a groan at what he did.

“yeah, i guess”, namjoon murmurs and his voice is hollow and it’s not strong enough to hold any kind of sincerity. a few seconds, maybe half a minute passes in which hoseok sits very still and his head is really loud and yelling awful things at him, his throat and ribcage are being held way too tightly by some evil force. and he feels so bad for making namjoon feel bad, he wants to reach out but he’s an elephant standing in a castle of class and his every move and raise of his voice could break everything into shards.

but namjoon is lowering his head, bringing out a long arm and steadying himself as he gets up and there’s a shadow on his face that isn’t drawn by the physics of light and hoseok’s heart throbs and aches. his body reacts faster than his mind so he finally reaches out and wraps his fingers around namjoon’s wrist.

“i’ll get you something to eat-”

“-wait! i don’t wanna grow old with you”, hoseok nothing but shouts and it echoes from the walls that seem too close and namjoon looks down at him with wide eyes. then his mouth is standing wide open and an expression of confusion and hurt is washing over his features.

“you don’t want to- hoseok, what the-”

“shit no! i didn’t mean it like that, i’m sorry, i want to grow old with you, hell, i want it so much - but not as a friend”, hoseok finishes breathlessly, his voice is so full of emotions that is wavers and gets stuck in his throat too many times but hoseok keeps staring at namjoon and from the way namjoon’s eyes light up and his lips twitch he understands, right?

and hoseok dares to interpret the glint in namjoons eyes, washing over his face and making it glow and hoseok’s heart ache in the most pleasant way, as hope. he feeds off that hope and it enables him to open his mouth again.

“namjoon-ah, i never told you and i’m- i’m so sorry but i don’t wanna grow old with you like that. i mean, of course i want, god i want that so badly, but i also want to share a home with you and like, own two cats and a dog and maybe a fancy bath tub and-”

“-and share a bed, maybe”, namjoon quietly butts in, voice soft but no longer uncertain as he looks down at hoseok and his expression makes hoseok’s bones melt; there’s that upwards curl in the corners of his mouth and his eyes growing smaller, grin spreading pressing them into adorable little crescents and namjoon looks so overly fond that hoseok feels his throat tighten and there’s something bursting inside of his chest.

“and share a bed, that would be dope. maybe go to museums together-”

“-and hold hands and whilst you stare at the art i’d only stare at you.”

“you cheesy asshole, i hate you so much!”

and hoseok’s tongue feels too clumsy and too heavy to form any words but there’s no need to because namjoon understands. just like hoseok reads namjoon’s body language like it’s his mother tongue namjoon speaks hoseok fluently, with all the rambles and too many hollow words, he filters through them and his head magically manages to find a sense without hoseok having to explain himself.

so when hoseok chokes out “i hate you, i hate you so much oh my god”, he just leans down and and wraps his long, slender arms around hoseok’s shaking form and when the first sob breaks out it’s muffled by namjoon’s shoulder and he shoves and presses himself onto hoseok and the bed carefully so they’re sitting there with limbs entangled and hoseok shivering against namjoon’s steady form. his damp, cold fingers stroke over hoseok’s warm, quivering back and he hums sweet little nothings.

“there, there”, he goes.

“i really, r-really ha- hate you”, sniffs hoseok, hot tears stinging in his eyes and dampening namjoon’s neck and shoulder.

“no, you don't”, namjoon murmurs bemused and rubs his ear against hoseok’s, his stubble into the other’s cheek bone.

“i really don’t, i love you so much, oh my god”, hoseok cries out and he literally wraps himself around the taller, ankles locking behind namjoon’s back, his muscles tensing and he doesn’t let go for a long, long time.

eventually hoseok’s shaking and shivering finds an end, the thrill being stroked out by namjoon’s long fingers and whispers of comfort, low voice tired but warm and full. he’s able to withdraw, leaning back a bit he rubs his face over his own sleeve and then looks at namjoon with bleary eyes and the corners of his mouth still quirking downwards.

“i’m sorry for not bein’ honest with you, i just- didn’t know what to do”, he says, voice still heavy with tears and wavering ever so slightly but namjoon just smiles softly and his eyes twinkle so sweetly as his dimples press into his cheeks and hoseok really wants to kiss namjoon.

“it’s okay. but hey, hobi?”, he asks and suddenly looks very serious so hoseok is feeling the thrill of a nervous buzz trying to move every inch of his body.

“mh?”“grow old with me.”“are you fucking-”“-yes. please grow old with me, for real!”,namjoon nods and he sounds so certain, the curve of his smile is so warm and his eyes so tender and hoseok wants to cry again.

“yes. oh god, yes, please”, hoseok chokes out and this mixture of a laughter and a cry feels weird in his throat but the aftermath is those familiar bubbles rising in his chest, exploding in his throat and he wants to kiss namjoon so badly, he still can’t believe his luck, he still doesn’t trust his karma but here he is, the boy he loves and admires right in his arms and he wants to kiss namjoon but he doesn’t.

but when laughter bubble out of his vibrating, slender and energetic form namjoon leans forward and catches the giggles right from his lips so hoseok really doesn’t have to worry anyways.

[appletaffy5]

AGRHGRHGEGHGHGHAGGHGHAGHRGHARGHARGHRGARHHHH I LOVE THIS

this is canon.

oh my god go kiss somewhere else