#one (1) day until the beginning of the school year and i’m already feeling sick

[artromanthur-lester]

tma gerry and michael meeting tmagp gerry and michael because i think they’re neat + i’m very tired

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 1: The Change

“Happy birthday, to you,” your teacher, Mrs. Palmer, and classmates finish singing to you.

“Thank you, everyone,” you giggle, happy that everyone did something special for your birthday in the middle of class.

You’re now six-years-old and your Momma’s promised to take you to Little Luigi’s Pizza Place after school, where you’ll get to open your presents from her, as well as eat all the pizza you want and have a cookie pizza for free! You begged her to let you stay home, but she laughed and said that she had to meet her publisher for her upcoming book, but she promised that after she was done, she’d come check you out and the two of you would go celebrate your birthday.

You look up at the clock (good thing it’s digital, because you haven’t learned to read the old clocks yet!) and see that it’s almost time for lunch.

“Come on, Momma,” you mutter to yourself. “Get here, already.”

Seriously, you didn’t plan to eat lunch, so you didn’t bother packing lunch today!

Just then, the intercom above the door chimes.

“Mrs. Palmer,” the school secretary asks.

“Yes?”

“Can you please send Y/N Gould to the office, please? There’s someone here to see him.”

“Yes,” you cheer, making a few in the class laugh.

“Of course,” she responds before the device clicks off.

You grab your backpack and toss it over your back before rushing towards the door.

“Bye, Y/N,” one classmate says as you pass her.

“Happy birthday,” another says as you near the door.

“Enjoy your birthday, Y/N,” Mrs. Palmer says, her usual bright smile on her face. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Remember to have your worksheet done.”

And with that, you leave the room and skip down the hall to the main office, happy that your school is small so you don’t have to walk far. As you do, all you can think about is all the pizza you’re about to eat! And the chocolate chip cookie pizza that you get after that! And don’t forget about the presents! Maybe you’ll get the new Pokémon Platinum game for your DS, or a new stuffed animal, or maybe a new movie!

The suspense is practically tearing you apart and you enter the office, ready to greet your Momma when you see… Sheriff Foley. And he looks… sad. You look to the secretary, who’s standing behind him, and she has the same sad look.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Sheriff Foley,” you say, looking around to find Momma, but not finding her. “What’s wrong? Where’s Momma?”

“Son,” he says as the secretary begins to cry a bit. “I have some bad news.”

You feel a weird feeling in your stomach, like when you eat a bunch of ice cream and get sick, but this feeling is worse than that.

“What?”

“It’s about your momma. I got a call from the police in Vegas and they said there had been a car accident. Some drunk fool leaving a casino hit your mother’s car.”

You feel your heart stop at the words “hit” and “mother.”

“Is she ok,” you manage to say. “She’s at the hospital, right?”

The secretary’s crying becomes louder.

“I’m sorry, son,” he says, a tear falling from his eye. “He was going too fast when he hit her. She’s gone.”

“Gone? Like missing?” Now, you’re crying. “Why can’t they find her?”

“No, gone as in she’s no longer with us.”

“Like… she’s gone to heaven,” you whisper.

He nods and it’s then you feel your entire world collapse. You remember what Momma said about going to heaven when you saw a squirrel asleep on the side of the road. She’d said that he had gone to heaven after falling asleep and that he wouldn’t be waking up again. That he’d always be there.

“No,” you cry, tears and snot falling from your face. “No, she can’t be in heaven! She said she’d be here!”

Sheriff Foley takes you into his arms as you cry.

The next few days go by in a blur. You stay with Sheriff Foley and his wife until the funeral. Unfortunately, the accident was so bad that the casket had to stay closed, so you weren’t able to see her one last time before she’s put in her grave. The whole town of Goodsprings is there; she was an author writing best-selling romance novels set during the Age of Sail and a pillar of the community, so everyone wanted to be there to say their final goodbyes to her and their condolences to you.

You said nothing during the whole thing. You hadn’t said anything since Sheriff Foley told you that Momma had gone to heaven and that she wouldn’t be back. The only noise to leave you is the sound of crying.

“Y/N,” he says as you watch the grave be filled with dirt. “When we leave, we’ll have to go by your house. You need to pack anything you need.”

“Why,” you ask, your voice sore from crying for days.

“Because a man is waiting there for you and when you have everything you need, he’ll take you to McCarran Airport. From there, you’ll go to Gotham City in New Jersey.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, first you lose Momma and now you’re losing your home?

“Why do I have to leave,” you say, tears streaming down your face.

“Because the county did some checking and found your father through a DNA test.”

You freeze at that. Your Daddy?

“Momma, do I have a Daddy,” you asked her once.

“You do, baby, but he doesn’t know about you,” she answered. “We met years ago, back when Momma was young and dumb. When I found out I was having you, I couldn’t find him. That’s when I realized I had to act right.” She rubbed her hand through your hair. “It’s thanks to you that I’m not like that anymore.”

That conversation goes through your head as you ride back to your house. You’re actually going to meet your Daddy? When you pull up to your house you see a fancy car sitting in the driveway and an elderly man in a suit standing next to it, watching you as you get out.

“I’m sorry, who’re you,” Sheriff Foley asks.

“Alfred Pennyworth,” the man says, bowing a little. “Butler to the Wayne Family. I apologize, Sheriff, but I’m afraid Master Bruce was unable to get away. Urgent business at Wayne Enterprises demanded his attention.”

“More urgent than his son?”

You can see the butler slightly flinch at that, despite how good he tries to hide it.

“I understand your frustration. I expressed the same sentiments, but Master Bruce couldn’t be persuaded to leave the matter to Mr. Fox.” He looks down at you. “I trust this is young Master Y/N?”

You can’t help but duck behind the sheriff’s legs to hide from him.

“Yeah, this is him.”

“I’m glad to meet you, though I wish it was under more joyous circumstances. You have my most sincere condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the ground.

“Come on, son, let’s get all your stuff packed.”

The three of you spend the next hour packing all your toys and clothes into cardboard boxes. When asked about your bed, dresser, and other larger things, Alfred said a room had already been prepared for you with a king sized bed and a dresser with room for all your clothes and more.

“Should you require anything else, I will ensure Master Bruce provides it.”

“What will happen to the house,” you finally ask Sheriff Foley, afraid for what he would say.

“Your momma already paid off her house and her will said that everything that’s hers goes to you. For now, the county will care for it until you turn eighteen, which is when you can inherit it.”

Hearing that should’ve made you feel better, but it didn’t because you’d have to wait so long to come back and even then, Momma still wouldn’t be here. As the two adults packed up the last of the boxes in the fancy rental car, you slipped away into your Momma’s office at the back of the first story. You slide open the doors, expecting to see her at her desk, working on her latest story like you’d done so many times before, but this time, an empty room and silence greets you.

You enter her office and hop into the big revolving chair, her favorite perfume still lingering from the morning of your birthday. You look at the desk and find something that takes your breath away: her favorite gold ink pen. One day, you’d asked her why your last name was Gould and she’d told you that your family came from a long line of goldsmiths who once made jewelry and other small things for rich people. Momma’s Daddy still worked with metal, even after the family practice was shut down, and when she said she was going to become a writer, he made her a gold ink pen to bring her good luck. You pick it up, looking at the beautiful design, and begin to tear up.

She carried it everywhere she went, so seeing it here cements the fact that she’s not coming back. Maybe if she wasn’t in a big hurry that morning, she would’ve remembered to take it with her and the accident never would’ve happened. And she’d still be here with you.

“Y/N,” the Sheriff says as he enters the office. “We finished packing everything. Are you ready to go?”

You want to say no and refuse to leave, but you know that you can’t stay here. You quietly pocket the pen and follow him to the car, where Alfred waits for you.

“Alright, son, be good for Mr. Pennyworth here. Do what he says and be a good boy like your momma taught you.” He gives you a hug and you wish it would never end, because then you’d never have to leave your home. “You’ll be back before you know it, and your home will be here waiting for you.”

A with that, you get into the car with Mr. Pennyworth and begin the drive to the airport. You use the mirror to see your house one last time, seeing it get smaller and smaller until it’s out of sight.

“I know this is sudden after the loss of your mother, but I promise Master Bruce and I will do everything we can to make Wayne Manor a home for you.”

“What’s it like?”

“The manor? It’s a large estate with a long and storied history that dates back to the early days of Gotham. There’s plenty of rooms for you to explore.”

“And what about my Daddy? What’s he like?”

“Master Bruce is a skilled businessman and one of Gotham’s biggest socialites. He’s also the adoptive father of Masters Dick and Jason.”

“He already has kids? Would they be my brothers?”

You’d heard of several of your classmates having older and younger siblings and had thought about having a brother or a sister. What would it be like to carry around someone younger than you or be care for by someone older than you.

“Master Dick would be your older brother, but he’s now living at the manor right now. He’s off finding himself right now, but I have no doubt that he’ll be back one day.”

“What about Jason?”

Mr. Pennyworth frowns at your words and you feel afraid that you’ve said something wrong.

“Master Jason would be your older brother, as well, but he was taken from us. With any luck, he and your mother have met one another.”

Oh…

“When did he go to heaven?”

“He left us a few months ago, but it feels just like yesterday.”

And with that, the talk is over. You two arrive at the airport and after the butler returns the rental car, he guides you to the gate where a private jet awaits the two of you. You can’t help but be amazed that you’re riding in a private jet that looks so much better than the ones you’ve seen on tv. You sit in one of the seats and it’s way softer than your bed.

“Master Y/N, we’re getting ready for takeoff,” the butler says as he puts his seatbelt on. “Put your seatbelt on.”

You do as you’re told and before you know it, you feel the jet begin to move. You hurry to look out the window to see everything moving past before the jet begins to fly. You stare out the window, watching Nevada, the state you’ve called home, get smaller and smaller until you’re above the clouds, unable to see anything, even the massive buildings of the Strip, which could be seen for miles.

It’s then you realize that this is real, that you’re leaving everything you’ve ever known and won’t be back for years and tears begin to fall from your face. You’ve spent the last few days crying so much that you’d think that you’d think that you would run out of tears, but apparently not. Not wanting to disturb Mr. Pennyworth, you face the window and bite your lower lip to stop making noises.

Somehow the flight seemed to be both long lasting and not long enough, because eventually, you saw a city show up below you. You squint your eyes to get a better look through the smog and see many tall buildings, all of the having those scary stone creatures you saw on a movie once.

“Welcome to Gotham City, Master Y/N.”

A/N: I’m hoping to make this a series that sees somewhat regular updates, but don’t quote me on that. I’ve been getting back into Resident Evil and I look up Yandere Batfamily stuff on this site so much it’s not even funny. Sorry if the first chapter was so long, but I thought if the first chapter was long enough, people would forgive me if future chapters are a bit lacking. Also, this series is heavily influenced by several of my favorite users, like @acid-ixx , @gotham-daydreams , @luludeluluramblings , and @darkstaria . You should totally check them all out.

[inkofamethyst]

December 22, 2022

Warning: Anxiety Post.  We all knew this was coming.

It’s just that any email in my inbox between now and the beginning of March that isn’t an interview offer or an acceptance is superfluous to me.  Now that all of my top ones are submitted (all that’s left is my “safety” which I may not submit until January tbh bc I’d heard that one of my schools could get back to me as soon as January and I’d choose that one over my safety any day, I think), I am officially starting to feel that icky feeling of “what if I don’t get in anywhere, what if everything I did is wrong, what if my only choice is between somewhere I definitely don’t want to go and not going anywhere at all, what if, what if, what if, I’m afraid, I’m so scared, I wish I just knew already” and so on and so forth.  But I am going to hold out.  Regardless of what happens, I will survive.  I refuse to consult admissions forums or subreddits like I have during my past few admission cycles because they only make me more anxious.  I just... I hate the wait, you know?  And the uncertainty that comes with it.  And while there is some comfort in knowing that there are tons of people out there just like you who are in the same boat because misery loves company, miserable, anxious people generally don’t help other miserable people feel all that much better.

And so I wait.  And I will have to keep myself busy in the meantime.  I will have to find some ways to distract myself into forgetting that my future plans, goals, and dreams are on the line here and that I don’t really have a backup plan lined up and.. hhhhh.  (Also I think I should’ve at least mentioned the consortium involved in two of my applications because that was a huge draw for why I was applying there in the first place, but those are also the two places that I.. am the most certain I will not be accepted to, so (they’d be dope schools to attend, don’t get me wrong, but for a variety of reasons I don’t think it will work out (or maybe I’m just being pessimistic disguised as realistic again to save myself from eventual heartache, but, really, who knows)).)

Plus I can’t help but think that maybe I should’ve done something different in this app or that app and maybe I should’ve talked more about why I really liked the school in my statement or maybe I should’ve submitted a copy of my poster as a representation of some of my old work and I just...  I’m just so worried.  Like I’m structuring my entire Spring around the possibility of interviewing and recruitment days, and it’d be so embarrassing to have none of that happen at all.  This ain’t undergrad with an average of 35% acceptance.  I’m looking at rates of 1-5% bruh.  And if I don’t get in anywhere I have to go back and tell that to my recommenders and I physically don’t know if I can handle that, and it makes me feel sick just thinking about it.

As much as I try to remember that I have great qualifications, fantastic recommenders, and a solid history when it comes to beating the odds of low acceptance rates (for the selective programs with ridiculously low acceptance rates to which I’ve applied, I’ve been accepted an almost unreasonably high percentage of the time), every single time feels like a new, more impossible beast.  

But that’s how it’s supposed to be, right?  As you become more qualified, the applicant pool around you increases in their qualifications as well.  So you know you’re putting up a fight in your application.  And your achievements, your selection over other talented candidates, represent not only the fight but the victory.  And that’s all I want, really.  A victory.  Even if it’s a choice between two of my preferred programs, I don’t need all six.  The victory wouldn’t feel so amazing if it was easy, would it?  So I accept the challenge (I have no choice at this point).  I accept the challenge and pray for the best. 

And if it doesn’t work out this go round, I have plenty that I can evaluate and improve up for the next go round.  Ideally, a year of setback won’t put me out of the running.

Today I’m thankful for all As this semester.  I’m thankful for my ecoanth prof who was far more lenient than she should have been but her goal was fully for us to learn in whatever way worked best for us and I can respect that.  I’m thankful for my easy archaeology class where all I did most days was show up and lazily scribble notes.  I’m thankful for my evolution class where there were so many opportunities to actively engage with the material (and gain points) before taking the exams that I never felt too worried about keeping a good overall grade.  I’m thankful for my popgen class where I learned! so! much! about genetics and computer modeling and I wish I could take another class with that prof in particular, he was probably the best prof I’ve had at this university (closely followed by my biochem 1 prof, I’d think).  I’m thankful for devbio, a class I only took because I needed it to fulfill a requirement and I didn’t think I’d care about it at all, but it introduced me to a whole new field in biology which I actually might want to explore more if I’m offered the opportunity.

[aztrareia]

[hiatus]

I think it’s the lactose intolerance talking, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need this art break.

So, hear me out, or don’t, the announcement is already up there in concisely one word.

[optional read below]

I started this school break with my [Wounded] series. And this was a whole mini series that I’ve taken from real-life “wounds”

Semi-permanent was taken from the times that I fell sick during school days. I’ve been very busy trying to keep up with studying, paired with the fact that I didn’t really know when or how to moderate myself in such a way that I was still able to balance rest and work. And it turns out, I couldn’t do that—and so for multiple times the past semester I fell very ill on the weeks before exams. Which sucked, but I guess, it was my body finally taking that break for me. Worst timing, btw. But it happened. I survived just fine, thankfully. Part of semi-permanent’s idea fuel was th fact I was still on that transition stage with trying to adjust to new environments—new place, new people, new ways of trying to get along with strangers in my general vicinity—moving homes twice—getting into a knee-injury accident thing while going down the stairs. This art piece had the premise that maybe some wounds are just that—“semi-permanent.”

Medic is an artpiece where I sort of emotionally face this thing called a “heartache.” I’ve forgotten over what heartache it is, but it held the idea that stuff like that—healing broken hearts—is a thing you have to do by yourself. It’s something that I feel is unfair to pass on to others, tasking them to helping you heal something that is exclusively yours. I don’t want to elaborate on the specific type of heartache—just know that it is yours to fill by yourself. That is what I believe in, and you are definitely free to refute that.

Mihael a (I’m not looking up the stylized fonts have mercy) is a play on my actual irl name. And yes, you are correct if you are thinking of a certain figure that’s very well known in religious literature. Simply explained, it’s an artpiece with the premise of facing those “demons” that live in our thoughts—the digital sword is a funny part of the piece I added at the last minute, but it fits well with the reference, no?

I won’t add too much of the photos since they are already here and posted, and this thing has been quite long already. But I am proud that in this past weeks alone, I was able to create I think, 10 works, 2 of them are wips, 1 of them might not see the day because I couldn’t for the life of me, feel confident with the art style I currently had, to justify, or at least be on par with other works—don’t do this btw. It’s just a personal thing for me that I wasn’t able to gather up that confidence to pick it up again and actually work on it. The photo above is that one art I made for 11.11. She was fun to work on. That’s all I will say about it.

This post is already long and winded and I’m surprised if you read this through (and thank you, if you did!). But as the title said, I’d like to take this time, coming up to the holiday season, to rest. I feel as though I’ve placed immense pressure on my skills (and that’s on me!) without really looking at what I was actually able to accomplish thus far. I hope to spend the remaining time until second semester begins next year, on things that don’t demand too much of my emotional and mental batteries. Doing something fun and specifically for myself that I don’t feel the need to document—and really just hoping for the times I get to touch grass so I can explore more of the new environment I’m living in. For the first time after a long time, I get to experience a Christmas holiday that is not just me and my single parental figure, and I look forward to that as well.

Be good to yourselves, I’ll be back with more long winded texts because I am still a talkative little shit with a keyboard I’m having fun using.

[volleychumps]

« Insecure S/O Reacting to a Confession 2

part 1 here 

format: scenarios

genre: fluff

- includes: Iwaizumi, Tendou, and Matsukawa

---------------------------------------------------

Iwaizumi Hajime

The sun wasn’t helping his flared cheeks in any way. 

“Stop interfering.” 

“Stop stalling then.” Oikawa grins, rubbing his best friend’s shoulders as if he were about to enter a boxing ring. The dark haired ace rubs his eyes in irritation with one hand, ignoring the flare against his cheeks as Iwaizumi attempts to shake his childhood friend off. The sight of you kneeled down in the school garden, hair pinned back away from your face as you tended to the flowers, made the heat surge through Iwa’s cheeks even more. 

“I’m not.” 

“Really? Because every day you approach her creepily from some distance, and then disappear. C’mooon, I already owe Hiro like fifteen bucks-” 

“You’re betting on this, shithead?”

“Nope.” The answer comes out a little too quickly as Oikawa dodges a second swat. “She’s so pretty I might have to approach her myself-” 

“Not another word.” Iwa grits out, Oikawa slightly smirking at the tick in his jaw and the way his onyx eyes harden. “I just...don’t wanna mess this up.” 

“There’s nothing to mess up until you confess. Ah, young love.” Oikawa sighs dreamily, Iwaizumi ignoring his dramatic friend’s swoon before making a decision. Today was the day. 

You wipe sweat from your forehead, attempting to ignore the beating sun down on your face as you tried to hurry the process a long, ensuring the flowers were getting just enough water. The touch of an icy can of tea against your cheek startles you, almost making you drop the watering pot before you hold a hand up against the bright sun rays, tilting your head in confusion at the broad-shouldered man in front of you. 

“Iwaizumi?” You smile in greeting as Iwaizumi shuffles his feet, breath catching in his throat at the sight. He was so screwed. 

You laugh a bit awkwardly, the cold touch of the can beginning to numb. “Um, is this for me?” 

“Yes.” He curses himself at how stern it comes out, but you gently take the can from his grasp, nodding in thanks. “I-I know you like this one.” 

“You do?” 

“No.” He didn’t want to sound creepy, yet somehow made it worse. 

“Oh.” 

Iwaizumi was ready to kick himself. He was hoping you would understand, the day you shyly maneuvered your way through Oikawa’s fanclub to get to him to offer him an ice cold drink was the reason he became so infatuated in the first place. 

“Well, thanks for the tea-” 

“I like you.” 

This time, you do drop the watering pot, eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights as Iwa’s heart sinks at your reaction. 

“I get it, alright?” You mumble, sadness swimming in your stomach as Iwaizumi fought the need to dart off. “You’re the handsome volleyball ace all the girls want, and they put you up to ask me out as a joke again. It’s getting old.” 

Ah. 

Iwaizumi sighs, knowing that the other girls preyed on you for your beauty and soft heart, finding ways to hurt you in the most immature ways possible. 

“Oi.” His heart tightens at the look of sorrow on your face, making him click his tongue before reaching a hand out before he can stop himself, smudging his thumb along the streak of dirt on your cheek. You look up at him in a doe-like manner, and your wet eyes are enough to make the ace want to hurt anyone who ever made you feel this way. 

“I’m not kidding.” 

“Iwa-” 

“Hajime.” He cuts you off, hiding a smirk when he feels the heat rush to your cheeks. “You can call me Hajime. Only you.” 

“Hajime.” you try it out, clapping your hand over your mouth once in shyness as Iwaizumi smiles a genuine grin, elated when you shy away into his touch. 

“Then...please take care of me.” You manage, condensation running down to your other hand holding the can as Iwaizumi slips it out of your grasp, taking a heavy sip of it before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I finished this one. Can I take you to a cafe?” 

“I’d love that.” You slip your gardening gloves off, Iwa slipping his hand into yours casually as you trail behind him, smiling when his grip tightens ever so slightly.

Surprisingly, the sun suddenly didn’t feel too hot today. 

Tendou Satori

“Today’s the day fellas!” 

“Oh, is it?” Shirabu mocks his surprise. “It’s not like you put ‘ask y/n’ out in huge block letters on our team calendar or anything.” 

“Bingo!” Tendou points finger guns at his teammate as Semi shrugs at a disgruntled Shirabu. “I’m about to get myself a Miss Tendou Satori-” 

“That’s not how that works-” 

“Hush, Ushijima. Your logic won’t ruin my day today.” Tendou bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for practice to let out as he tugs his last shoe on, his other teammates still in the process of changing. 

“Is she waiting for you?” Semi tugs his shirt overhead as Tendou hums happily in answer, Shirabu snarkily making a remark from the other side of the locker room. 

“She’s out of your league.” 

“I know she is! Which is why I’m going to treat her like the queen she is, since I myself am but a lowly peasant beneath her-” Tendou perks up at the time. “Gotta go, I’ll text you the outcome boys.” 

“Please don’t.”

“Tendou-senpai-” But the redhead had already darted through the door as Ushijima glances at his worried kouhai, tilting his head in question. 

“What, Goshiki?” 

“Isn’t Y/N L/N the one who had that mean prank pulled on her last year?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you rocked on the balls of your feet, fidgeting with the ends of your skirt as you wait for the rambunctious redhead on the volleyball team. No way a cute guy like him was actually- 

“Did I make ya wait long?” A pair of sneakers appear in your view, making you lift your head as Tendou Satori casts you a wide grin, school shoes hanging in his other hand. You tilt your head, wondering if he rushed here.

“Did you need something from me, senpai?” You blink, swinging your legs lightly on the bench you were sitting on, fearing the worst. Tendou clears his throat, suddenly feeling the nervousness he had been outrunning catch up to him. He can’t mess this up. Ever since you had adorably asked him to reach something for you at the snack shop for the school, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind. He made sure to wait around during the same time during lunch hour, your usual snack already in hand and plucked off the highest shelf. 

“Go out with me.” 

You flinch. There it was. 

His smile fades slowly with every beat of silence that soaks in the atmosphere between the two of you, and you swallow back a sob. 

“How much are they giving you to do this?” 

Tendou’s shoes hit the floor, his eyes blinking rapidly in confusion as you refuse to meet his questioning gaze. 

“What?” 

“I um, can help you if you want. Go out with you for a few days so they really believe-” 

“Hey, hey!” Tendou’s arms begin to flail around as he shakes his head no. “I mean it Y/N, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. I really wanna date you for real-” 

“You do?” 

Tendou’s chest felt heavier at the crack in your voice and insecurity swirling in your eyes, and he nods his head, kneeling in front of you carefully before asking to take your hands with his eyes. 

“I 100% do. You can strip me of my honor if I’m lying.” 

This makes you crack a smile, making Tendou breathe out a sigh of relief through his nose. He thumps his forehead against yours, making your eyes glint in a way they haven’t in awhile.

“Can this lowly senpai please take you out on a date this weekend?” 

“No, my lowly senpai cannot.” You say, turning your palms over so he can hold them properly. Tendou quirks an eyebrow, but he’s slightly smirking as you offer a shy smile. 

“But my boyfriend can.” 

Matsukawa Issei

“You’re staring again, ya creep.” 

“I think the term you’re looking for is skillful admiring-” 

“Just ask her out.” Hanamaki yawns, getting comfy on his best friend’s desk as Matsukawa leans into his palm, eyeing the way you pout when your friends steal your snacks. So cute. “What’s the worst she’s gonna do, say no?” 

“Yes.” Matsukawa sighs, hanging his head slightly as Hanamaki arches a brow, crossing his arms in pure amusement. 

“Wow, Matsukawa Issei hung up over a girl?” 

“Who the hell is hung up-” 

Hanamaki arches a brow when his friend visibly tenses up, looking over only to smirk when he sees another boy in class shyly offer up his pocky to you, you gladly accepting and smiling widely in thanks. Issei rests his head on the desk, stubbornly looking out the window as Hanamaki withholds a laugh over the hold you have over your classmate. 

“Oh just ask her out.” Hanamaki uncaps his drink. “You’re so into her dude, it’s making me sick.” 

Issei shifts in his seat. Maybe his adoration for you wouldn’t have begun if it hadn’t been for the way your much shorter legs pumped to catch up to his figure, who had pretty much reached his home.

“Matsukawa-san!” You had gasped for breath, the messy-haired boy guiltily slipping his headphones off at how tired you seemed. Before he could profusely apologize, you shoved his notes in his hand, bright hue to his cheeks at the act of kindness. 

“Um, you left this in the library!” you manage out, Matsukawa seeming to freeze in the moment. “I added some notes in there, I hope you don’t mind. It seemed kinda empty-” 

“You wrote notes for me?” He finds his voice again, cursing himself at that being the first thing that came out. 

“I was bored during free time anyways.” You scratched the back of your head before turning on your heel again. “Anyways, bye!”

And then you darted off again as Matsukawa Issei stayed still in his spot, wondering just why the hell his heart was beating at the pace it was going, colorful notes hanging from his grasp. 

“I’m gonna do it.” Hanamaki almost falls off the desk at Matsukawa’s revelation and the way he suddenly stood up. “I could kiss you right now, Makki.” 

“I’m praying to god, please don’t.” 

You lean against the shoe lockers, humming to yourself as you wonder just what your classmate would need from you, figuring he wanted to properly thank you for the notes. You would accept it and go, knowing that Matsukawa Issei was favored among the girls- 

“You’re here.” 

“This.” You smile softly, holding up a folded note between your fingers as Matsukawa shoves his hand in his slack pockets, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “This made it hard for me not to be, you know?” 

You eye him carefully, stomach sinking at the familiar situation in front of you. 

“You might have already guessed,” Issei breathes, trying to steady the pounding in his ears. “Or Makki might have already told you because he’s a shithead like that-” 

You tilt your head.

“-but I’ve got this killer crush on you. And if you could help me out, I would thoroughly appreciate it.” It comes out business-like, and you almost laugh if it hadn’t been for the weight in your throat. 

“Help you out how?” He doesn’t notice the crack in your voice as he pulls his sleeves up to his forearms, swallowing tightly. 

“I think a date would begin to ease the pain.” 

You really do laugh this time, but it’s not the kind of laugh of amusement. It’s forced, awkward, and makes Issei falter in his smile and movements. 

“Do they ever get bored?” 

All playfulness drains from the middle blocker’s face as his tone hardens. “What are you talking about?” 

“Sure, get the hot guy from the volleyball team to try and ask Y/N out, are you getting it on video?” 

“Y/N-” 

“I’ve gotta go.” you try to step away, eyes widening when he stops you with his much bigger frame. His lidded eyes widen at the tears prodding the corner of your eyes, carefully lifting a hand to swipe at them before looking at you seriously.

“You think I’m hot?” 

You can’t withhold the giggle that escpaes you, sniffling slightly as Matsukawa smiles gently, wrapping his arm around you to touch the small of your back. You yelp a little when you find yourself crushed against his chest, your upper back touching the lockers. 

“I don’t know what the hell happened to you in the past, but-” you look up at the handsome tall boy you had hand-written notes for, hoping your crush on him wasn’t too noticeable. “I can tell you right now that you’re really fuckin’ pretty, and I want to brag to my friends about how hot my girlfriend is-”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You cup his cheek in question as his grin widens. 

“Make me your boyfriend and I’ll show you.” He winks, and you raise both eyebrows in amusement before practically speaking against his lips. 

“I think we can arrange that.” 

---------------------------

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[watevermelon]

✧ MSBY Soulmate!Atsumu x Reader

➳ Summary: You knew all about his personality, whether through the rumor vine or the numerous warnings your friends gave you. But there was no avoiding it - he was your soulmate after all.

➳ fluff; mutual pining; small jealousy; slight angst with a happy ending ➳ Navigation

—-xXxXxXxXxXx—–

When he first met you, Atsumu hadn’t wanted to hear it.

This was in the prime of his life, being scouted for a Division 1 volleyball team was his life-goal and the only thing standing in his way was the upcoming Olympics. Which, of course, he was rumored to be included on as well.

Even back in high school, there were tons of fans and girls alike who would willingly fall to his feet. Regardless of his reputation, they were eager to share a single night despite knowing it would probably be their last. And Atsumu reveled in the excitement of the attention, feeding off the cheers and shallow admiration many threw at him both on the court and in the bedroom.

Atsumu didn’t want a soulmate, someone whom he was shackled to for the rest of his life.

No, initially he didn’t want you.

As for you, the feeling was mutual to a degree. Soulmates were a touchy topic for many, conversations about colors and contrast was something you could not personally relate to. The moment you met your soulmate, it was described to you as suddenly bathing your entire life in color.

A part of you was curious about your soulmate, where he was in the world, what was he doing and who he was with. But never had you centered your life around it, more like a passive curiosity that you hoped would one day be satiated.

You were a student of Inarizaki during its prime, the members of the volleyball team very popular among the student body. You had made acquaintances with Osamu and Suna through one or two classes, but never were you particularly close to them.

Your close friends often warned you about the leader of their trio anyway - Atsumu Miya and his drove of fuckboy energy. 

There was no doubt that the twin had multiple fan-clubs and obsessive flings surrounding him. You remembered once feeling sympathetic for his soulmate - thinking about how hard it would be to get him to saddle down to a single person. Especially, with the way he lived his life, it seemed the setter could care less about the concept of soulmates to begin with.

No, Atsumu would be a terrible soulmate for whoever was unfortunately linked to him by the red string of fate.

And while he was admittedly very handsome, you did not particularly care about the setter to actively reach out to him.

Besides, it was not like he even knew who you were to begin with.

The years went by and any thoughts you had about the setter were filed away in the quiet recesses of your mind, only appearing once in a while when Miya  Atsumu showed up on some article or newspaper cover for something regarding volleyball. You were silently proud of his accomplishments and representing your school and perfecture, achieving his dream and all, but hadn’t particularly cared about him in the first place.

That was all until one day, you walked into Onigiri Miya years later.

Even though Osamu was the quieter twin, he either had a good memory or was oddly sentimental, since he remembered your name immediately when you took a seat at the bar.

“I see the years have treated ya well.” Osamu started casually, almost making you blush at how the twin could say something like that as if totally normal between old friends. “How’ve ya been doin’?”

“I’ve been working in the city, just something temporary while I finish grad school.”

“Ah, you’ve always been smart.” He complimented.

“Nothing compared to you though.” You countered, “You look really happy doing this. And you have a few branches opening, I heard.”

“Keepin’ tabs on me?” He baited.

“Just like hearing about the success of our classmates.” You shrugged.

You were sure Osamu had something sassy to say back to you before he got called away by another customer. He motioned for you to stay as he walked to the other side. 

Your eyes followed him for a few seconds, watching how despite working around food constantly, he still had an athletic build after all these years. 

(Really, the dude was built like a dorito chip.)

And while you would have liked to stay and flirt with the pretty onigiri twin, a similar voice started from the door. A light chime signaling the front door opening, you heard a greeting toward Osamu, making you turn in your seat in interest.

Only to double-over in surprise as your world was suddenly too bright.

You had no time, not even seconds to get your bearings. Your life of white and black tones was suddenly full - the table covers were black and red, the plants at the windowsill were green with different arrangements of orange. You took in your surroundings quickly, soaking up colors for the first time in your life.

It seemed the other man was just as surprised, cursing as he went before you lifted your eyes simultaneously to look each other in the eyes once more.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Atsumu asked under his breath, but you heard it all the same.

What on earth could you possibly say to that?

Within seconds, the situation was whirling around in your brain that this was possibly the worst possible moment of your life.

You were soulmates that didn’t want each other - for opposite reasons, surely. You did not want to be with Atsumu since he was too much of a player to take the concept seriously and attempting anything with him would only result in heartache. And Atsumu didn’t want you because he surely had an endless amount of women he would rather be with.

“That’s what a girl wants to hear.” You countered as you crossed your arms.

You hadn't expected your first meeting with your soulmate to be met with expletives and it seemed Atsumu finally remembered a semblance of his manners.

“Sorry, ya caught me off-guard.” He started, “Now ain’t the greatest time for me.”

“Oh boy.” You murmured as you turned back in your seat at the bar, Atsumu taking the open one next to you.

“Wait, (L/N)? From Inarizaki?” Atsumu asked after he motioned toward Osamu in greeting.

“That’s me.” You formally introduced yourself, extending a hand out to him. He regarded you quietly before taking his phone out for you to take and put your number in.

“I knew it, I don’t forget a pretty face like yers after all.” Atsumu smoothly said. This was your soulmate and all you felt in response was resentment, thinking about all the women he probably used that line with. You handed him back his phone as he continued, “Wow, look at ya all grown up.”

“And look at you, a professional volleyball player.”

Atsumu looked at you with a critical eye, not one that you could really decipher, but it was clear he was looking at you very thoroughly. “Been to one’ve my games before?”

“Only a few times in high school.” You replied, facing his stare head-on as his smirk only widened. You weren’t sure what this was, but with a player like Atsumu, you were sure he was already sizing you up in a way you didn’t want.

Something told you that if you looked away, you would lose.

And so you held your ground, matching his intense stare as your onigiri meal waited for you at the bar-side.

Thankfully, his name was called out by his twin and Atsumu’s attention was grabbed away before you could break. 

“I didn’t know ya knew each other?” Osamu started as he returned, a glass in hand as he wiped it dry with a towel.

“We don’t.” You said instead.

Atsumu’s smirk tightened as he answered, “Just found out we’re soulmates, actually.”

Osamu put the glass down and turned to you, “'Tsumu fucking with me?”

“Unfortunately, no.” You answered.

“Unfortunately?” Atsumu emphasized as he turned to you more fully, the infuriating smirk still on his face for some reason, “I’ll have ya know that Imma great catch.”

“Debatable.” Osamu countered.

You laughed at his quip before looking at Atsumu, “Yeah, but I’m sure you don’t even want to be ‘caught,’ right?” You shot-back at the setter, “Unless you’re going to try to convince me that you still don’t want to entertain the droves of women at your feet?”

“Think ya have me all figured out?” Atsumu asked as he leaned closer to you, a quirked brow on his face. You looked toward Osamu who looked strangely amused, eyes going between you and Atsumu.

“I think I know enough to know why ‘now ain’t the greatest time’ for you.” You replied sassily as you shot back his first words to you, pushing at his chest to give back your personal space.

Atsumu just took your hand and put it in his own, calling your bluff. “Oh? Like how my time and attention are on Olympics while I’d rather treat my baby properly?”

“Oh god.” You said as you laughed.

You laughed.

To his face?

All the setter could think about was how interesting you were.

He had expected his soulmate to ‘fall at his feet’ as many had in the past. To cling to him for attention and to demand an exclusive shackle to them. But here you were: beautiful and independent and even physically pushing him away.

You grabbed your hand out of his light embrace and turned back to your food, smiling at what you thought was just another line he would feed to his other one-night stands. Atsumu bit his lip in frustration and looked briefly at Osamu, who was watching the two of you like his own personal source of humor.

If you were any other girl, Atsumu would wave you off. Say that he didn’t have time for one girl who didn’t care, he had dozens who would willingly take the spot instead. 

But you weren’t just any other girl, you were his soulmate.

And he could already feel the strange draw towards you.

Not even a few months ago he would scoff at the supposed soulmate bond. All the other members of the Black Jackals had found their other half and what they ranted on and on about made him sick. Bokuto somehow found a way to insert something about Akaashi at almost every conversation and Atsumu would constantly catch Hinata, even during midgame, staring at Kageyama.

They sickened him.

And yet somehow he now understood.

Seeing his soulmate before him, you were one of the first few people in a while that he felt like he had to prove himself to. There was probably an endless amount of expectation against him, he was sure. Being old classmates and seeing his name on a tabloid almost every other month would definitely do that.

And somehow only minutes into speaking to his soulmate, Atsumu wanted something different.

“I could always prove it to ya.” He shot toward you, making you laugh again. 

Alright, this shit ain’t gonna cut it.

Atsumu licked at his bottom lip before pulling your bar stool closer to his, relishing in the way your eyes widened in surprise as he did so. “Come on, ya lookin’ at yer soulmate. Just say what we both want and we can leave here together right now.”

You shot him back an incredulous expression, a challenging look in your eye as he put the ball in your court. It was strange to feed off the provocation of someone else; a new type of adrenaline in him as he wanted to get to know you.

“Sorry, but I’d rather not leave with a man who has hickies down his neck from some other woman.”

Atsumu almost felt himself click his tongue in frustration, but you were not exactly wrong. Just a few hours ago he was inside someone he couldn’t even name with a gun to his head, but that was a world before you.

A world before color and the sassy soulmate who seemed to want nothing to do with him. 

And while Atsumu wanted to prod a bit more, or at least get you to concede that he was the greatest option in the world, his phone rang out with Sakusa’s icon flashing on the screen.

Your eyes were drawn to the noise and you commented, “I’m sure you already have plans today anyway.”

Dashing that thought away, he lifted his phone to your eyes and showcased the proof to you. “Think again, my teammate is on the other line ready to chew my ass out.”

“Oh.” That shut you up, before shrugging and turning back to your food, “Well, I’ll see you around Atsumu.”

He leaned toward you, lips dropping beside your ear and lightly stating, “Keep ya schedule open this week.”

You hesitated for a second before saying, “Maybe.”

Atsumu answered the call and started gathering his things, his thoughts only half on Sakusa as the spiker complained about his cleaning habits in the locker room.

“We should probably exchange numbers again.” Osamu took out his phone, motioning it in your direction. 

You took it with a smile, to which Atsumu scowled and made a point of reminding his twin. “Yer better know she’s my soulmate.”

Osamu sighed outwardly and you just laughed adding, “And he’s the better twin afterall.”

Atsumu’s eyes darkened, phone completely forgotten as he took a step toward you, “I’ll remind you later who really is the better twin.”

He made it so easy to tease him, to challenge the world Atsumu built-up around him. You wanted to break it for some reason, to knock him down a peg for being stuck with a player as a soulmate.

And so you shot back, “I’d like to see you try.”

Atsumu smirked as his hand casually grazed up your thigh and squeezed at the skin there. “That’s a promise.”

He shot both of you goodbye’s before returning to his phone call and walking out the door. Atsumu had the last word for now, but you weren’t going to fall to his feet so easily. Turning back to Osamu was no help either, his expression amused as he watched the entire moment play-out.

“An here I was wantin’ to ask ya out.” Osamu stated plainly before shrugging as you sat still in your chair at the irony.

You expected that to be the last you’d see of Atsumu for a while - weeks or months or maybe even years as he entertained the long list of women that would be much easier to maintain than a soulmate.

He called you the next day, inviting you over for dinner and a movie before the weekend started.

You steeled your spine, telling yourself that the gorgeous setter was not going to get to you in a single night. He lived on the better side of Tokyo, just his zip-code alone was a flex of his wallet. And so when you reached his penthouse floor, you took a deep breath in the elevator before you entered his domain.

Again, you expected him to make good on his promise before, to make a move and prove to you that he was a playboy, asshole that you knew from high-school, but instead you had a pleasant first night.

Atsumu Miya entertained you with a home-cooked meal of all things, the two of you sat across from each other at his mahogany dining table.

“Who would’ve thought you would know how to cook well?”

“Ya know who my brother is?” Atsumu joked, “As if 'Samu will me live if I was an ass in the kitchen.”

“Of course, you’re just an ass in other places then.” You shot back, receiving a playful look of offense from the setter, before continuing. “But this tasted amazing, so thank you.”

Atsumu had that smirking expression on his face, like he was carefully watching you, picking you apart in his mind as he thought about the next ten moves in this strange game.

The setter put a hand on your knee under the table and you expected that to be the move, for it to slide up the rest of the way. But instead he tapped the area twice before he stood, grabbing your empty plates and motioning for you to go to the living room. 

“Why dont’cha get comfortable for the movie while I wash these?”

You weren’t disappointed, per se. 

Just surprised, if anything.

And the night continued on just as tamely, playful and even flirty banter between the two of you over the action movie that played out. At one point he draped a casual arm across the back of the couch, resting his hand on your shoulder and pulling you to lean against him.

You had witty banter back and forth and when the movie finally ended, Atsumu commented how it was getting late. Surprised again, you took the out and allowed him to call a car for you. Atsumu walked you down to the street and only when he was opening the door for you, did he lightly pull you at the waist to chastely move your lips together.

Lasting only seconds, he pulled away just as quickly and ushered you into the car and whispered in your ear, “See you soon, (F/N).

Everything you had expected of the playboy you thought you knew was shattered, no sudden move to get you on your back on his bedsheets. Yes, he still said plenty of flirty things to you, but he had yet to actually act on it. Was that simply a bluff before? Or was he playing a longer game to get you off the defensive?

“Yer so cute, (F/N).” Atsumu complimented you once as you lounged on his couch another day, “There are days I can barely keep my hands off ya.”

And before you could recognize how quickly your life was changing, that first initial date snowballed into more dates and somehow you had gotten to the point where you would visit his place fairly often. Whether for dinner or a simple hangout, it seemed Atsumu was keen on inserting himself into your life little by little.

And somewhere along the way, you started to doubt your earlier musings of a fuck boy with no regard for a soulmate. Maybe he had changed from high school? Or maybe, he had changed when he met you?

Or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe.

He had convinced you one night, when you came over for dinner or whatever it must have been, when it started to absolutely downpour outside. He insisted that he did not feel safe sending you home in this weather, to which you countered that you had travelled in worse.

That did little to subdue his worries and instead you found yourself in an oversized jersey getting tucked into his bed that night.

“What’s that face about?” He asked as you laid there together, bed sheets up to your shoulders as he placed an arm beneath your head.

“Nothing, just thinking.”

You thought the first time you’d ever see his bedsheets would be when he was inside of you, not tamely laying beside you and kissing your forehead goodnight. And when he pulled you closer to him, cuddling you to sleep that night, that was one of the safest times you had ever felt.

If this was just a game, if you were just another one of his girls, he would have made a move that night, right?

And so you believed that Atsumu was honestly as earnest in his actions as he said, trying to get to know you for you. Not because you were just another woman to put as a notch on his bedpost, but because he was genuinely interested in you.

That was until you saw the first dating scandal since you had met the setter.

He had plenty of other scandals before this, many women had been attached to his name before, but never had you cared in the past because that was simply his reputation and you barely knew him. But now you had an active role in his life, how could you not know about some woman he was apparently also spending time with?

You did not want to believe some random tabloids over the trust of your soulmate. At least, that was until one day you overheard Atsumu on the phone with his twin.

“Listen, I took out (F/N) that first time cause ya told me to.”

That shit hurted.

The entire foundation of your relationship was based on the fact that his twin pressured him into getting to know you? Did Atsumu even want to get to know you in the first place? Was he really playing with your feelings this whole time?

You turned and went back to his living room, filing this away in your mind as you took a seat. If Atsumu didn’t actually want you in his life, then you would surely give him the space he wanted to begin with.

But you had missed the rest of that phone conversation.

“But I feel like I’ve already fallen for her. I don’t know, she’s different. Ya, ya. I know, I won’t fuck it up this time.”

And so you resolved to put between each other the space he wanted initially.

When you first met, he was pretty vocal about not wanting a soulmate at the time. But he had convinced you along the way, that maybe this was something the both of you wanted.

You were wrong.

Phone calls went ignored and you stopped replying to texts after a few curt replies. You needed distance if you were going to get over Miya Atsumu and his inevitable line of one-night stands.

Your soulmate was supposed to be the one person in the world who completed you, who understood you whole and made you feel loved. And while you were on the precipice of those feelings, it all quickly came crashing down with reality.

Atsumu Miya did not want you.

One night, as you were studying for grad-school, you were working on your part of the group project and were expecting a call any moment now from your other partners. 

When the phone rang out, you picked it up without regard to the name on the screen until it was too late.

“Hey, (F/N)? Haven’t heard from you in a while.” Atsumu’s voice started immediately and it was not like you could hang-up on him now.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy trying to make rent, y’know. Not everyone can be a world-renowned professional athlete.”

There was a small pause on his end before, “... you could always stay with me if you have financial problems.”

What?

Why would he offer that? Just to make you suffer when he brought other women home?

“Don’t say things you’ll regret, haha.” You try to put back that earlier distance, “I’m sure you have a laundry list of girls who are eager to hear back from you after all.”

“What? (F/N), that’s not--”

You cut him off there, “Listen, I’m waiting on a couple people for a school thing. I’ll see you around, Miya-san.”

Miya-san.

Miya-san.

Where had he fucked up?

In the weeks Atsumu had gotten to know you, it was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that he hadn’t felt for anyone. It was like the unspoken bond crap that Kita had explained to him in high school or that Suna, who recently found his own soulmate, raved about was actually real.

For the first time in his life he wanted to spend time with a woman for longer than a single night. He wanted to bring you home, kiss you good morning, and possibly have a home with both your names on the mailbox.

And while not even a few months ago he would have scoffed at shit like that, Atsumu wanted it and felt that for the first time it was in his grasp.

So where did he go wrong?

The last thing he ever wanted to do was actually make you feel unwanted and he feared that his initial words might have sparked something within you.

It was no surprise when Atsumu showed up at your apartment unannounced the next day.

Not expecting any company, you waltzed over to the door, thinking it might be a package delivery, and opened it in your pajamas.

Atsumu walked right past you and into the living room, words striking with the specificity of a cobra. “Are you just fucking with me?”

You sputtered before closing the door, “What? 

He ran a stressed hand through his hair, but maintained eye-contact with you. “Yer my soulmate and I wanna get to know you. Am I alone in wantin’ this?”

“Shouldn’t I ask that of you?” You shot back, “You made it clear as day that you didn't want me as your soulmate to begin with!”

Atsumu sighed and took a step closer to you, closing the distance to lightly grab at your elbows. “For fucks sake, that was months ago. Don’t tell me that all that time together meant nothin’ to you?”

“Of course it meant something to me!” You exclaimed back, before pushing at his chest while he did not budge a single inch away. “Don’t act like I’m the one half-assed in this.”

He scowled back, “What is that suppos’ed to mean?”

You did not hesitate, "I know you only spent time with me because Osamu told you to.”

Atsumu recoiled in surprise and you took that as your escape, pushing his lingering hands away as you made for the kitchen. But the setter was out of his stupor quickly, trailing behind you.

“Fuck, what did ‘Samu tell you?”

“He didn’t have to tell me anything, I found out the truth myself.”

You could tell Atsumu’s stress level was skyrocketing, from the way his hair was mused without care and angled strangely in certain ways.

“Ya got it all wrong, it was just that first time!” Atsumu replied right behind you.

“What do you mean?”

“‘Samu was the one who told me to call ya the next day, but I was going to eventually ‘cause I wanted to get to know ya myself.”

You slowly took in his words, but it was hard to make any sort of decision with the setter right in front of you. A part of you, one that attributed it to the soulmate bond, was basically begging you to forgive him and wrap yourself in his embrace. That part wanted to feel those muscular arms around you once again, to feel safe in the arms of the one person in the universe meant for you.

But, afraid of getting hurt and without much argue left within you, you tossed back. “Yeah, eventually.”

Atsumu put a strong grip on your waist, holding you there in place before you could run away again.“‘Samu told me to, but I could’ave easily not done nothin’ that first night or any time after.”

You bit your lip at his words, Atsumu was laying all his cards on the table and he wanted a response from you. 

And he wanted it now.

“Please, ya know me better by now.” Atsumu turned you in place to face him, leaning down to whisper his words against your forehead. “I know Imma bad deal - I can’t imagine what ya thought of me back in high school and even earlier this year. I have a bad history and an even worse reputation.”

“But after just a few weeks, I don’t want ya out of my life ever again. Just hearin’ ya call me by my last name yesterday nearly killed me.” Atsumu continued, trailing his lips further down until your foreheads were touching, “Lets give this a try - a real one. Give me the chance to make you happy for the rest of our lives.”

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the insistent inner tug on your heart and how the setter was encompassing all your thoughts. “Atsumu… I--”

“Stop overthinkin’.” He interrupted, “I don’t want to bombard you. But I promise I won’t ever purposely hurt you.”

You took in a harsh breath, wondering how on earth this could be the same Miya Atsumu who plagued your high school. He had changed, not just from then but from the short amount of time you had already shared together. Opening your eyes slowly, Atsumu was still clutching you around the waist, but his eyes were carefully scanning your expression.

“Okay.” 

You replied, leaning into his touch more as the smile on the setter’s face widened.

He did not waste a single moment, leaning down to capture your lips with his. You stood surprised for a second, before pushing up to meet his gentle touches. There was no sudden epiphany, no instant speech of undying love after. But there was no denying the harsh flutter intensifying after every inflamed touch. 

Your heart pounded hard in your chest as you leaned more into the setter, knees going weak as his tongue roamed your open mouth. Your only focus was on how soft he felt against your mouth, how addictive it was to have Atsumu invaded all your senses. From the intense smell of his cologne to the light tickle of his blond hair against your head, Atsumu was dominating your every feeling.

And so it was quite a surprise when Atsumu gave you one final peck, before moving to your forehead and placing a light butterfly kiss there and backing off entirely.

“Fuck, just look at you.” He commented as he leaned back, looking at you up and down. There was no doubt the sight that greeted him, you messy with drool, tousled hair, and rumpled clothing. “Even in your sheep pajamas, it’s hard for me to keep my hands off ya.”

Your blush intensified at his words, putting a playful hand on his chest and muttering a small, “Shut up.”

“Never.” He quipped back, putting another kiss on your forehead before pulling away, only your hands still joined. “Now let’s get your apartment packed.”

“What?” You asked, confused. Your mind was still nothing more than a cup of spilled milk after Atsumu had all but ravaged your senses.

He smiled before pulling you back to your living room. You followed wordlessly, his previous statements slowly pouring into your brain after the intense liplock. It was hard to focus on anything when the attractive setter was making a point to kiss you at an open chance.

“As in packed to move in with me.”

[tooruluv]

Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee​ <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏���━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour. 

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat. 

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal. 

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name. 

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything. 

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy. 

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked. 

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories. 

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead. 

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes. 

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything. 

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same. 

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was. 

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that). 

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork. 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day. 

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing. 

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect. 

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea. 

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy. 

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class. 

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else. 

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting. 

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with. 

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity. 

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath. 

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy. 

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

 I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools. 

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger. 

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt. 

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight. 

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself. 

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder. 

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in. 

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.” 

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)

series masterlist

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 6k

warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink

note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes

Six months later...

“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”

You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”

“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”

“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.

“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”

“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.

“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.

“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”

“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”

“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.

“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”

She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”

“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.

“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”

“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”

“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”

You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.

After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.

“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.

“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.

“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”

“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”

“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”

“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.

“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”

“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”

You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.

“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.

"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.

"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.

“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”

“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.

“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”

“I think so, too, dear.”

Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.

Week 1, Day 1: Greetings

Hello                      Salut

Goodbye                La revedere

Thank you              Mulțumesc

You’re welcome      Cu plăcere

Good morning         Bună dimineata

Good afternoon       Bună ziua

Good evening          Bună seara

Good night               Noapte bună

You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.

How are you?          Ce mai faci

I love you                 Te iubesc

“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.

Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.

Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.

You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.

Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.

You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.

You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.

After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.

Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.

A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.

With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.

The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.

You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.

“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”

Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.

A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.

“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.

“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.

“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”

She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.

“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”

“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”

You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.

“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”

You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”

She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.

“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”

You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.

You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.

In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.

The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”

“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.

It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.

“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”

“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.

“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.

“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.

As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.

“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”

“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.

“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”

So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.

“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.

“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”

“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.

“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”

“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”

The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”

“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.

“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”

“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.

“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”

“Wow,” you smiled.

“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.

“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”

Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.

“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.

“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.

“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.

“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.

“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”

He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”

But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.

Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.

Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.

And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.

“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”

His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.

He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.

But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *

“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”

You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.

“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.

The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”

Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.

“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”

You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.

“Marry me?” he asked softly.

“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”

He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.

It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.

He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.

Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.

Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.

You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.

Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.

Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.

And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.

As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.

He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.

It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”

He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.

“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.

It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.

You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.

“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”

Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.

You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.

His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.

In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.

“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.

“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.

“Come in here, please…”

You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”

You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.

“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”

You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”

“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.

Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”

“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”

You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.

“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.

“Can I ask you something?”

He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”

“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.

“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.

You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”

“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”

“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”

He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”

You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”

You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.

“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”

“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.

He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”

You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”

“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.

“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”

“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.

He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.

sfarsit; the end

[urcuteharrington]

hi, I just saw your post asking for some requests. Maybe if you can do a Steve angst but with a little bit of fluff? 💛💛

forgotten?☁️🕊

summary-steve seemed to have forgotten you when nancy came into the picture

word count-1.8k

warnings-fighting and cursing

a/n-i really hope you guys enjoyed this because it took me so long to write but i appreciate you all and i’m so glad to be back 🤍

masterlist

huge thanks to @angsty-plots for giving me ideas for new angst plots<3

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steve and i were good friends that was until he started dating nancy wheeler. it use to be steve and i doing everything together hanging out at each others houses, long car rides , going to tommy’s parties , and now he forgot all about me. i knew steve had a crush on ever since the beginning... i saw the way he looked at her when she would walk past him , i saw the sparkle in his eyes when he talked about her or whenever she was around. it use to be steve, tommy, carol, and i hanging out at lunch everyday but i was soon replaced when steve asked nancy to go to his house for a hangout with carol and tommy since his parents were out of town. that night he only invited me out of pity and i saw the subtitle flirting between the two and it made me sick. i walked barb that night to the bathroom after she sliced her thumb trying to open a beer can.” i know steve has gauze and bandages somewhere here ill look just keep your hand under the water” i tell her. that night i saw nancy and steve go into his room and i knew what was going to happen and i couldn’t bare being their for it. I said my goodbye to barb wishing her a safe ride home and went on my way. remembering that night i cried my heart out wondering why steve never expressed interest in me.

That was months ago now it’s around october and it was tommy’s halloween bash. i wasn’t going to go but i decided that it was better than sitting at home doing nothing. i knew i was going to see steve their with nancy but i still went even if it was going to hurt seeing my best friend who forgot i even existed. I go dressed up as (whatever you want) and grab my keys getting ready to head off to the party. pulling up to the house i already see drunk teens walking around with their heels in hand or wobbling around. i walk in and head over to the kitchen and try to grab a drink of spiked punch. while pouring i look over and see them... steve and nancy dancing to the beat of the music. a sudden wave of sadness hit and i decided to take a sip of the punch feeling the alcohol run down my throat.

minutes pass and i decided to stay in the kitchen since i felt like it was my best bet to not run into them while on the dance floor. watching the drunken teens flirting and stumbling their words amused on how quickly the punch could get someone drunk.then i saw her , the girl who stole my best friend from me and the boy i loved. nancy walked into the kitchen and grabbed more cups of the spiked punch , one after another i was able to see her get completely shitfaced in the ,mater of only a few minutes. steve came looking for nancy and they got into a fight and i watched intensely. watching as the punch spilled all over her while sweater my mouth opened a jar shocked at how messy everything was getting. watching her and steve storm over to the bathroom. moments later i move to the living room near the front door and suddenly get shouldered by steve who seemed furious and watching jonathan rush to the bathroom. i decided to stay a little longer since the party was still going strong.

a few days later i noticed that steve and nancy were slowly falling out since he wasn’t visiting her at school anymore and her and jonathan seemed to have gotten closer. they seemed to be done and whatever was said in that bathroom must have been bad. i decided to go to steve’s house and check up on him, even if we weren’t friends anymore i didnt want to see him go through something like a breakup alone. knocking on his front door i waited anxiously wondering if i was making the wrong choice. “ hey how can i- oh hi y/n. i didnt uh expect you to be here?” steve says opening the door confused. “ i know steve but i wanted to talk to you” i say as he walks me to his room to talk.” hey i was actually gonna go out and apologize to nancy so if you can come and help me pick something out for her” my heart sank i haven’t talked to him in months and he already brought her up. not a hey how are you or a i miss you nothing its always about her i think to myself. “ oh i actually came to talk to you about something “ “ shoot” he says.” why did you stop talking to me” silence filled the room 1...2...3 minutes passed waiting for him to say something anything” steve you left me for nancy and i dont get what i did for you to sto talking to me. i understand shes your girlfriend but shit i didnt think you’d completely forget about me” i say standing up from his bed looking at him with sadness in my eyes.” i-i thought you didn’t want to hang out with us anymore y/n i didnt notice at first i i’m so sorry” he says guilt in his voice.” i feel like i lost the only person i truly cared about and and you were my friend and now you don’t even look my way steve how could you not notice me not being their... how did you not notice me not their at your basketball games cheering you on or the long car rides we would have just blasting music or going to tommy’s parties and taking turns getting shit faced. tell me steve is it me was i just not who you wanted to be around anymore was she my replacement because i saw it since the beginning” chocking on my words i hold back my tears. i didnt want to cry but eventually it fell and my vision blurred with tears.” y/n i never ment to make you feel that way and i am so sorry i guess i just got so caught up in nancy and i didnt notice you slowly leave and i i just feel terrible “ steve looked at me finally realizing how much he affected me and how much pain he caused me. “steve if you didnt want to be friends anymore you could have just told me you really hurt me” i say to him not daring to look him in the eyes.”i-i” is all he could say” you know what steve a simple hey i dont think we should be friends anymore its not your fault i just think we should go our own ways would have been nice” i say to him walking past him” you know thanks for being my friend for so many years but i cant be friends with someone who doesn’t give two shits about me anymore” i say as i walk out the door and walk back home since it was only a few houses down.steve not moving just in shock realizing that he was the reason why he lost his best friend.

days past and steve found out that nancy liked jonathan and accepted it telling her its okay and like that they broke up. driving around i felt a wave of sadness hit when the song steve and i would listen to while blasting music. tears spill down my face as i drive home. once i make it home i calm myself down and wash up when i suddenly hear the doorbell go off. walking over i open the door seeing the infamous billy hargrove “ hey their doll face i was wondering if you’ve seen my little sister max i know that you tutor some of her friends so i was wondering if you could help me figure out where the byers house is” he says licking his lips seductively “ yeah i could take you their and help you look for your little sister just let me grab my stuff “ i say looking at him.” after getting to the byers house i stay in the car until i see steve walk out confused at why he is their. everything happened so fast punches were thrown and now i’m driving the kids to this random area in hawkins. steve wakes up and sees me driving confused at how he ended up in this situation. getting to the destination steve and i talk while the kids grab everything. in the car they explained everything that happened in thus far with el , will, the upsidown , and etc. “ we broke up” steve says looking at me “ what why are you okay” even if we weren’t close anymore i didnt want him to feel like he had no one. “ she likes jonathan and the night of the party she called our relationship bullshit and i accepted it since i-“ dustin cuts him off by yelling at him how we didnt have enough time.

getting the kids out of the tunnels one by one steve was just about to help me up when he grabbed onto me tightly in a protective matter when the demo dogs ran toward us. watching as they ran past us he told me” i lost you once and i’m not gonna lose you again”getting out of the tunnels i was able to fully process everything that happened and once el closed the gate and steve and i were finally alone he broke the silence “ i love you y/n i never ment to hurt you and i’m sorry.” speechless i sit their “ steve i know you loved nan-“ he cuts me off “ after our first fight i knew she loved jonathan and i guess i couldn’t believe it till she called our relationship bullshit and i love you so much y/n and it was stupid of me to not tell you earlier” “ i love you too steve but what you did hurt me i mean you completely forgot about me” “ i know y/n but could you give me a second chance i’ll make it up to you... could i take you on a date and patch everything up” i really didn’t want to forgive him but i couldn’t just abandon him because i needed him i loved him and he loved me “ i would love that steve “ i say looking at him with love in my eyes and a smile plastered on my face.

[keity-devil]

Another one, I know. (Destinyshipping fic, spoil 'my not my never' child/teen @breathlessmorro.). But is more a fluff one. I think. Enjoy.

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Powers, my love? - Part 1.

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Morro and Kai have been in a relationship for a year and a few months already. They were happy with each other. The days together were amazing for them. Kai had met Morro for the first time because of Lloyd's help. They told everyone one day that his cousin was moving to town and he was excited about it. (Especially since they hadn't seen each other in years, Morro not knowing about the Garmadon family's problems until a few days after he came to town.) When he first saw him, he saw an emo and slightly shy boy, but with a tough personality, dreaded if you touched a blond hair of Lloyd's. Kai couldn't believe Morro was really Lloyd's cousin. They were so different from each other. Hair color skin, language, that's what he think until he find out it's actually adopted. They began to meet more often (because Lloyd wanted his best friend and cousin to get along), and the flame ignited. When Lloyd found out about Kai's relationship with Morro, he didn't expect his plan to have such a great result. He had agreed to their relationship, even pleased with it. Kai didn't expect that either, not to mention Morro who was confused at the beginning of their relationship, he thought it was all just a dream, a fiction, he didn't think anyone would love him and yet.. he found someone. They had kept this relationship a secret until they were quite comfortable with the idea of ​​the rest knowing about it.

But they both kept a secret from each other. Elemental Powers. Kai kept his firepower hidden from Morro, and Morro kept his windpower from Kai. They both kept it a secret, and to this day, everything has gone well with this secret concealment of power.

Kai opened his eyes slowly. The light coming from the sun came straight into his eyes. He turned his heavy head to the seat next to it. Morro slept soundly, a few strands of hair hanging down his slightly pale face. Kai turned completely to his lover, staring at him. He could feel the fire in him wanting to come out. It was hard to control himself not to create a heart of fire for his love every time he did something adorable or felt that he did not know how to show/express his love for him. But he couldn't do it. He risked his identity as a Fire Ninja, Red, Flame, he risked endangering both of them.. and he didn't want that.

Morro felt his dream slowly crumble, his eyes hard to open. When he opened them a little, he could already see a smile on someone face.

"Morning..." He said softly, feeling his throat dry.

"Morning mi corazón." Kai approached Morro's face, kissing his forehead softly.

Morro in response, approached him to warm up a little, maybe he will fell asleep. It seemed strange to him how Kai was much warmer at times, but when he asked him about it, he had received the answer that it was only because he is cold.

"Don't fall asleep again. You just woke up." He said with a smile.

Morro couldn't stop an innocent grin. "And what if I fall asleep again?~"

"I'll be forced to throw cold water at you to really wake up."

"Oh no, not at all. I'm sick of it. Do you want me to be sick?"

"N-no..?"

"Exactly. Just another five minutes..."

"Okay. Just five minutes." He had begun to stroke his thick, black hair.

------

Ninjas had to patrol the city every night. Just two. And tonight, Wu put Wind and Flame.

"Your serious now?" Wind said, rolling his eyes.

"This is the truth." Flame said, looking at the starry sky outside before he left.

"Why did Wu put me with you?" He said unfriendly.

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Maybe it is."

Flame said nothing more, wishing this patrol would end quickly so he could go home. He missed someone and thought of a good excuse for being late. The patrol went fast. Nothing new for the two of them. Wind and Flame were good at fighting, but in conversation and socializing, they needed work.

"Well, end of patrolling for tonight. It's late, I should run home quickly."

Wind looked at him. "Why? Parents, brother, sister?"

"Beloved boyfriend." He said calmly.

"Oh." He lowered his head. He didn't know why, but hearing him say that word, he had done it... "Mhm. Go then. Don't let him wait for you." He said in a tone with a little venom in it, disappearing from Kai's vision like the wind.

"What's with him? No, you know something Kai? It doesn't matter what's with him. I still wonder who's under the mask. Who could Wu trust to have these powers...?"

------

Morro arrived home first. The last conversation with Flame had left him in a bad mood. He wanted to make coffee, but that wouldn't calm him down, so he resorted to his father's method of tea. He went into the bedroom first, no sign of Kai. He could feel the bizarre state in him growing. He left a cold wind behind him, filling the room with a restless cold air.

Kai reached the front door of the apartment. He repeated his apology in his mind.

"Okay Kai. You can do it. Calm down, you know the words." He pressed the doorknob. When he entered, a strong mint smell struck him, with a cold wind as well. "Uh... tea?" He closed the door, rushed inside. At the kitchen table was the brunette, with a cup in his hand, frequently hitting it with his nails painted light blue and black. "Morro? Uh... are you okay?"

"Mhm.. Yes. Why? Problems? " Morro didn't want it to sound so harsh, but he was still on needles.

"Nope. None." He approached him, placing one of his hands on Morro's back. "¿Disgustado?"

"¡No entiendo cuál es SU problema!" Morro started. Not realizing what language he was in. "¡Incluso estaba tratando de tener una conversación normal con Él! Y comienza con eso y- ugh..!" He threw his head on the table, but he had hit the cup of tea with his forehead, overturned the cup, letting the mint liquid run down the tablecloth, which flowed slowly on the edge and on the floor. "Fuck this!!" He screamed, feeling like he was about to throw the cup against the wall. Instead, he picked it up, placing it violently on the table. He rose from his chair, taking a few steps that swirled in a circle walk, his fingers gripped by his disheveled, disheveled black hair.

Kai was just looking at him. Morro had rare moments like this. When he had the first one, it was from an old frustration that happens again. Then he managed to calm him down because he knew the reason, but now he didn't understand him.

"Hey, hey.. it's okay. It doesn't matter that you spilled it and stained the tablecloth. It can be washed. Calm down." Kai try to calm him down with the tea problem.

Morro wanted to scream, but he was holding him in. He didn't know how he could do that, knowing that in moments like this he would throw almost everything out of his soul. The brunette looked at him, his nails still in his scalp. He had taken a few breaths.

"Okay.. Okay.. I'm calm. I'm calm." Morro had taken a few steps to where they kept the water, putting it in a cup and drink it all in one go. "Can we.. forget about it, please? And just sit in bed, fall asleep in each other's arms...?" He said softly, feeling his hands tremble.

Kai smiled slowly. He did not want to insist on the reason for the crisis, because of the emotional state Morro was in now. "Of course. Come here."

Kai reached for the brunette's waist, coming down for a kiss that had greedily returned him.

------

The Ninjas were urgently call by Wu. Morro had not received the call, nor could he.

"Ninja, you've arrived. ... Where's Wind?" Wu knew their identities in each and every Ninja, and Ninja between them, except Wind. They didn't know who Wind was under the mask, nor Wind who they were under the mask. And they agreed with that. One day they will know about each other.

"I don't know, Master Wu." Zane replied calmly.

"Are you feeling well, Kai?" Wu asked, seeing his restless state.

Kai had muted a little, surprised by the question. "No, no. I'm fine, Sensei."

"You don't look good, Master of- "

"I'm worried!" He interrupted his Sensei. "Morro should have called me or sent me a text an hour ago and he didn't..! What if something happened to him??" They had an agreement with the call or the messages. Morro had a telecaster class after school and told him he would let him know when he went out to see him, but nothing.

"Something to happend to Morro? I think you're kidding Kai." Cole said, knowing the personality of Lloyd's cousin, Wu's son.

"I'm not kidding. It's possible. Morro doesn't know how to fight. He's not like us." That had frightened Lloyd. If he knew the truth, he would have been calm.

"I'm sure my son is fine, Kai." Wu reassured him. He was not afraid that Morro was in any danger, he knew his son. If he was in danger, he would have already announced it. "I say to- " The 'Garmadon' alarm sounds in the room.

"Attack in Ninjago by Lord Garmadon. He now seems to be attacking random places." Nya said, looking at the new target of evil.

"That's... that's where I live!" Kai said quickly, recognizing the place. "When I get Garmadon, I'll- "

"Kai... If Morro is there and that's why he didn't contact you?!" Jay suspected agitatedly.

"Oh no... we have to hurry."

------

Morro didn't care if anyone could see him. The world was in danger, and his instincts came first. When he removed the last person from the building, he turned inside, slamming the doors behind him with a strong wind, blocking them.

"Heh, now let's take care of the rats."

He was walking in the white dust with all his senses on alert. He couldn't see well, but he could hear. Suddenly Morro felt a hand grip his shoulder. He quickly reached for the stranger and knocked him to the ground. From the rising smoke, three Garmadon generals had appeared.

'Looks like I'm going to have some fun today.'

He held out his hands wide, after hitting them against each other. The wind that formed next to the three of them pushed them violently together as he clapped his hands against each other. All that was left in the air was his right hand, which had begun to control the wind that was now above the enemies, pressing against them. Sounds of pain were heard. Dust roamed the room uncontrollably. One of them managed to open his eyes despite the strong wind.

"Who are you?! A monster!? Surely a monster!" He spoke agitatedly, closing his eyes again, feeling the pressure even stronger now.

Morro's eyes gleamed in shock at the generals pressed by his wind.

"Monster! You destroyed everything! The houses, the vegetation, EVERYTHING!!"

Words from the past resound in his head. His hand had begun to tremble and his breath was short of breath.

"I'm not a monster." His tone had become harsh, both hands rising, putting them in a cage pressed by the cold wind. He was about to stop their right to breathe- "Monster!" Everything stood still for a few seconds, leaving his trembling hands to fall past his limp body.

The generals were breathing a lot, telling each other to get out of here as soon as possible, that the guy is crazy, a monster. Morro felt his legs begin to tremble, clinging to the wall with his hand.

"Everything is fine.. is fine.. What was in the past is gone..." He looked around disfigured. The white dust fell slowly to the ground. "I'd better go..."

"Morro!" A voice called his name out of nowhere.

"What the..?" Morro was amazed to hear someone call his name from afar, behind him.

"Morro!" Kai stopped running when he saw his lover. He would have arrived sooner if the door had not been locked. He was too agitated to remember what he was wearing at the moment.

"Kai..?" Morro froze in shock, feeling himself tremble much harder. Now it made sense in his head why it was always so hot and warm..

"I thought something happened to you!" He reached in front of him, taking both Morro's pale hands. Kai looked at him intently to see if he had any scratches or injures. He didn't, it was just filled with white dust and shaking body. He looked into his eyes, which were full of shock and... fear? "Morro, mi corazón, are you okay?"

Morro sat for a while, processing the words spoken by the person who had made him nervous the night before. "You're.. Fire Ninja.. Flame.. Kai, are-are you Him?"

This hit Kai directly in the soul. Only then did he realize what was happening. He knew it made no sense to deny it, it was just a waste of time and words.

"Uh.. yes. Yes I am." He remembered the fighting moves and supernatural powers the generals had feared when they left the building. "How do you know how to fight so well?" If they put the card on the table, put them all on.

The brunette, now with white dust on his head, stared blankly. "Wind. I'm Wind, Kai."

"You're kidding.."

"Not at all." He had created a small tornado with both hands. "See?"

"That explains why- Omg... Were you talking about me last night?"

Morro nodded slowly. His heart was pounding inside him. He didn't know if it was from anxiety, fear, emotions, or even all three or more, but he knew it was starting to hurt. Oh, and those damn memories. Morro now expected Kai to yell at him, even leave him. He expected the worst. He was too afraid to think of a good script. But.. Kai had started laughing.

"No.. I don't.. I don't understand.. Why.. why are you laughing?" He was confused.

"Oh! That explains MUCH better your condition last night." He slowly laughed, slowly squeezing his lover's pale hands. "You just didn't think I'd leave you for that, did you?" Morro looked down guilty. "Omg.. come here." He took him in his arms. "I hid that from you too. And you. We're even. It's nothing serious, mi corazón. On the contrary, I'm much calmer now. Calm that you'll be fine.. I had to think that Wind is Wu's son. It was obvious!"

Morro slammed his fist into his chest, looking him in the eye afterwards. "No. It wasn't. I was behaving completely differently."

"Maybe, but not always." He gripped his face in his fingers.

"I say I played theater well at times- " He had been interrupted by someone's lips on his. The kiss hadn't been a long one, but it had been a calm one for the brunette. "You'd better fly, colorful Ninja.~ You don't want the rest to suspect anything. I can feel them approaching the entrance to look for you."

Kai looke behind him, then glanced back at his boyfriend. "After you know what, I'll be back, okay?"

"Mhm.. Just kiss me already."

"Your wish is my command.~" Kai kissed him again, this time it was a longer one.

--

T r a n s l a t e :

Kai: "Upset?"

Morro: "I just- I don't understand what HIS problem is! I was even trying to have a normal conversation with Him! And he starts with that and- ugh..!"

[theamberwriter]

Bouncing Baby [4]: Sick Day

Read the Series! [1] [2] [3]

Pairing: Shota Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,613

A/N: Wow, hi guys! It's been a minute! I hope that you all like this next part! I'm so excited it's finally done after all this time. Hopefully you all still want to read it! This was a lot of fun to write. I hope you all enjoy!! Also, I hate editing on Tumblr Mobile, lol

~

You knew as soon as you woke up that morning, there was no way you were going to work. Your head was packed, your ears were stuffy and ringing, and your throat felt like sandpaper. You could barely open your eyes to shut off your alarm. You coughed, nearly puking as phlegm came up with it. You spit in the trash can next to your bed.

"Shota," you whined rolling over, and accidentally smacking him in the face with your hand. He grunted.

"You're not going to work today, are you?" he muttered, eyes still close. 

"Are you crazy?" You coughed and spit in the can again. "You know my quirk copies my physical state on other people. If I try to heal anyone, they'll all leave the office feeling like this."

"I figured as much, that's why I asked." 

Shota grabbed you, pulling your back to his front. You were worried about him getting sick. But you didn't protest the cuddles. They made you feel a lot better. You wished the two of you could lay there all day.

"I'll take Kohaku to work with me," Shota said as the third alarm rang. Reluctantly he sat up, placing his feet on the floor.

You rolled to face him, mostly asleep. Your head swam. "You don't have to. She's a handful."

"She'll be fine, nothing I can't handle."

"But your class - after everything that's happened...They still have so much left to learn. That's why I've been keeping her with me."

"Exactly, if they can't handle a child after this - there's no hope for them," your husband chuckled. You wanted to protest more. But your mind was getting dragged down into slumber.

You didn't hear them leave. Only waking to an empty house. For the first time in years, you were alone. No husband, no baby - it was unbearably quiet. But it was nice and serene. If only you didn't have a cold.

You glanced at the clock on the stove. Shota was three hours into work. You wondered how he and his class were faring. Little did you know, Kohaku would soon give them a run for their money.

Nobody had really questioned when Shota Aizawa walked through the halls with a baby that morning. A bag in his wife's favorite color was hung from his shoulder, and a black haired baby who was the spitting image of him on his hip. She was fast asleep against his shoulder. 

By that time in the school year, everybody knew he was married to one of the school's nurses and that the baby was theirs. The secret he'd been trying to keep, leaking out after only two weeks. All due to an incident where she phased through the walls, giving everyone a fright. 

It had been a regular occurrence after that that he'd watch the child in the classroom. Giving his wife a break to focus on her duties. So his class didn't much question the child either. Even though it'd been four months since they saw her last. The baby had grown much in that time.

Shota put his sleeping daughter in her playpen, then stood in front of his class. On his way to work, he'd thought of something fun. Something to give him a story to tell his sick wife to cheer her up when he got home. Maybe he'd even send her a video while the chaos ensued.

"Your morning classes will proceed as usual," he said. "However, your training later today will be different than normal."

Shota didn't answer any of his students questions. They would all just have to wait and see.

Their classes went by, lunch came and went. So far, Kohaku had been tame. He only had to erase her quirk a few times. Which she grew irritated at quickly. But she calmed down after All Might sat with her for an hour.

Kahaku napped after his visit. Shota right alongside her. He was glad she decided to sleep during the lunch period. He knew she was at her worst after nap time. But he wasn't concerned about it today. Today, her unruliness wasn't his problem. In fact, it worked great with his plan. It wouldn't have been as fun if she fell asleep in the middle of it.

Shota escorted his class to their training facilities once they all had changed. Kohaku was just beginning to wake up due to all the noise. She was still slumped against her father's shoulder. 

"Mr. Aizawa, what are we doing today?" Iida asked. "Is it some sort of special training?"

Shota smirked to himself. "Something like that. Today - you'll be taking care of my daughter."

There was a loud, collective WHAT?!

"We're not damn babysitters!" Bakugo growled.

"Don't curse around the girl, Bakugo!" Iida scolded.

Uraraka stepped forward. "She's only a baby, it shouldn't be too hard. Right?"

"Kohaku is very special. And not just to me and her mom. Kohaku is a year and seven months. However, as you may know, she already has her quirk," Aizawa explained. There were murmurs of oh yeah and shit, that's right. "My daughter can change the material her entire body structure is made of. Most likely to an atomic level. But, since she's only a baby, what she becomes and what she decides to do are totally unpredictable. 

"Your task is to watch her until the end of the day. I won't be erasing her quirk. Time out will only be called if Kohaku falls asleep or needs her diaper changed. If she's still in the facility at the end of the day, you've successfully completed the exercise. But if she gets out, even once, then I'm going to make you sit through sex education classes with Midnight for a week."

There was a collective shutter, aside from Mineta. He was way too into it. Nose bleed and all. Everyone else one could see them sifting through worst case scenarios. Shota knew Nemuri would be only too excited to show his class the ropes if BDSM. Quite literally.

Shota moved Kohaku's hair from her eyes. Checking if she'd gone back to sleep. But Kohaku leaned up, yawning as she rubbed her face. She grinned up at her father, then turned to look at everyone else. She leaned shyly back against his shoulder. There were a few aawwwws.

"You're playing shy now?" Shota chuckled. "You know them. They're going to play with you today. Would you like that? - I've brought a bag of her toys with us. Everybody take one. The first person she goes to gets to sit out a day of lessons if the class manages to fail. If the class succeeds, that person gets extra credit towards any class they're currently lacking in."

His whole class clambered for the bag. Pulling out cute little bunnies, and plastic rings, and soft books that crinkled when they moved. Bakugo was unlucky enough to get a teether that looked like a bowl of ramen that she'd recently chewed on. He turned white when her spit coated his hand. He seemed about ready to destroy it.

"I would like to note," Shota added. "That if any of the toys are ruined by a student, it's an automatic failure for the entire group."

Everybody turned to Bakugo. He glared them down, snapping an insult. Shota sat on the floor, and a few people followed. He put Kohaku on his knee, turning her towards the class. She seemed mesmerized by her selection of toys. 

"Do we have any questions before we start?" 

Iida's hand shot into the air. "Mr. Aizawa, could you please tell us what materials your daughter can turn herself into?"

Aizawa nodded. "I was wondering if any of you were going to ask. Lucky Iida did, so that you all can be warned. - So far, Kohaku has done four things. One, she can become a rubber-like substance. If she falls or jumps off something, she'll bounce. After each subsequent one, she will become faster indefinitely until she hits something she can't bounce off of.

"Two, she can become heavy metal. When this happens, Kohaku can't be picked up or knocked over. This is often how she pushes over her playpen. However, the metal is soft and scratches easily. Which means that, when she deactivates, she'll have cuts in her skin. Third, she can turn her skin into a diamond material. Unlike with the metal, she can't be hurt in this state. But she is light and can be moved. Finally, Kohaku has figured out how to make her matter permeable. You all have met Mirio, of the Big Three. It seems to be similar to his quirk.

"She may be a child. But children are unpredictable, and Kohaku is particularly rambunctious once she warms up to you. If you all can handle villains, I see no reason why you should have any trouble with my daughter. Does anyone else have anything to ask?"

When the class remained silent, Shota nodded. He bounced Kohaku on his knee for a moment while he spoke to her.

“Okay, Kohaku,” Shota started. “Which toy would you like to play with?”

He stood her on her feet, making sure she was balanced. She sucked on her thumb as she slowly started to wobble towards the class. Some began to shake rattles at her or crinkle books. A few started making the noise to call cats. Shota rolled his eyes, you couldn’t pspspspspsss at a baby.

Finally, she wandered over to Todoroki. He’d been sitting quietly, watching her. His eyes grew wide as she crawled in his lap, reaching for the rabbit in his hand. Todoroki froze as she pulled herself up to stand on his thigh. She held the rabbit closely, while gripping on to his shoulder for balance. Shota made sure to get a photo on his phone of Todoroki’s terrified face.

“Are you okay, Todoroki?” Asui asked. 

The corners of his mouth pulled down as he lifted up Kohaku and held her in front of him. She gurgled happily, jingling the chime in the rabbit.

“You scared of a stupid baby, Half and Half?” Bakugo snapped. He came over and took Kohaku from Todoroki’s hands, causing her to lose her grip on the rabbit. For once, Shota was glad when Kohaku started to cry. This was the beginning of the end.

Kohaku quickly turned herself into heavy metal. Bakugo cursed, trying to keep a grip on her. But she ultimately slammed to the ground. Kohaku gurgled happily, though Bakugo glared. She’d narrowly missed crushing his foot.

Shota watched on, laughing to himself, as Kohaku began to phrase through the large training terrain in the middle of the room. Students followed, leaping up into them. Trying to figure out where she might be in the structure. 

“There!” Kirishima called from the other side. 

Everyone followed, disappearing quickly, and Shota went to get a higher vantage point. Kirishima dove for Kohaku, but she went right through his fingers. He looked at his hands in disbelief, then watched as she teetered away. A few people tried to grab her, but she went through all of them.

“Oh, c’mon!” Kaminari whined. “She’s going to get out!”

“She’s not a dog, sweetie,” Ashido said, rolling her eyes.

“She’s still heading for the wall! Which means -” Kaminari paled, so did Ashido when she remembered what Kohaku’s escape meant.

“Todoroki,” Asui asked. “Where’s that rabbit you had?!”

Todoroki glanced over his shoulder. “I put it back in the bag.”

“That’s okay, I think I can replicate it.” Yaoyorozu flicked quickly through her book, then focused. Not long after a semi-perfect replication of Kohaku’s rabbit sat in her hands. She shook it, and the chime inside jingled. Kohaku stopped in her tracks, one hand held up to the wall. 

Kohaku searched for the sound, sputtering happily as she found the rabbit. She waddled over to Yaoyarozu , hands extending as far as her little arms could reach. Yaoyarozu picked her up, jingling the rabbit again. Kohaku seemed happy as long as made noise.

"That was way too close!" groaned Uraraka, slumping to the ground.

"I guess we gotta keep her entertained," Kirishima noted. "But how? Yaoyarozu can't keep making toys."

Aoyama butted in then, radiating sparkles. He grinned at Kohaku. "Allow moi to try. Prepare to be amazed, mon petit!"

However, Kohaku wasn't the least bit impressed by his belly laser. Even when he tried to make it flashy, like fireworks. Shota knew that'd never work on her. He chuckled at the display, taking a picture.

"She's just as mean as Mr. Aizawa," Aoyama whined. He curled into a ball, tears slipping out. The whole class groaned. 

Uraraka was next to try. She held out her arms, which Kohaku reluctantly went into. It took Yaoyarozu giving Kohaku the rabbit to hold.

"You wanna go for a ride?!" Uraraka grinned then activated her quirk. It was a moment before Kohaku could process what was happening. But when she realized she was floating high above the others she began to cry.

"Uraraka! Put her down!!" Ojiro yelled.

Uraraka panicked, flailing for a moment. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!"

When Uraraka released her, Kohaku fell right into Shoji's arms. Which she did not like very much. Kohaku wailed loudly, clearly not a fan of the multi-limbed hero. Mineta panicked and began trying to juggle some of his balls.

Ashido marched over, swiftly taking Kohaku. "Gimme her, you guys don't know anything about babies! It's okay, sweetie, Auntie Mina is here to save you from these idiots."

She sat down, Kohaku in her lap. Then started making faces at her. Kohaku's crying eased, and there was a moment of relief as she began to giggle. Though even that was short lived. Ashido decided to take Kohaku on a surf around the room. Only to have her goop splash and melt down Kohaku's newly made rabbit. That led to another bout of crying.

"And who were you just calling idiots?" Kaminari asked snidely.

Ashido whined. "Shut up, Denki! It was an accident! Here! - Tsu, you take her!"

"Me?" she asked, pointing to herself. But Kohaku was already in her arms. The two stared at each other. "You can definitely tell she's Mr. Aizawa's daughter."

Kohaku laughed as Asui's tongue hung out of her mouth. She reached for it, tugging, and catching poor Asui off guard. Kohaku stretched and pulled her tongue, gurgling in glee.

"Do you want me to take her, Tsu?" Midoriya offered. Kohaku has been playing with her tongue for five minutes at that point. Anyone could tell how uncomfortable she was.

Asui nodded. "Thanks."

"C'mere, little Kohaku," he cooed, trying to pull Kohaku off. She didn't want to let go. No matter how much he tugged and pulled. Asui even tried to retract her tongue.

Aizawa snapped a picture of the tongue of war.

Finally, Kohaku let go. But so did Midoriya. Everyone watched in horror as the baby went flying.

"What the hell, Deku, you dunce?!" Bakugo growled. 

Kohaku smooshed against the wall, then sprang back, careening towards the floor. She began to laugh and sprang off the floor as Sero and Kaminari hit heads trying to catch her.

"That's right!" Iida announced. "Mr. Aizawa said she can turn into rubber and bounce. - But she'll get exponentially faster. We have to catch her before she becomes too fast to see." 

"We better do it soon, look!" The sleeve of Hagakure's uniform pointed up at the training terrain. Kohaku was bouncing off one level then the other. Shota dodged expertly as she passed him, she was nothing but a blur.

A few went to catch her, but she even escaped Iida's swiftness. Soon there was nothing but ominous bouncing and maniacal giggles echoing. No baby in sight.

"We're too late," Tokoyami shouted. "It's going to be impossible to catch her now."

Jiro kneeled. "Not impossible. Hanta, when I signal -" 

Sero nodded, readying to shoot. Jiro plugged into the floor hearing every place she hit. The floor, the wall, the terrain, the ceiling…

"There!" she shouted, pointing to a space in the air.

Sero shot tape. To everyone's surprise, it wrapped around something. Kohaku appeared, pulling him with her velocity before she sprang back and hit him. Knocking them both to the floor. Kohaku cooed happily from her spot on Sero's chest. He gave a weak smile and a thumbs-up, trying to get the wind back in him. 

Kirishima went and picked her up. He grinned at her. But she seemed unsure of his pointed teeth. "That's an awesome power you got, little dude! Mine's not half as cool." 

He hardened himself up and Kohaku was instantly mesmerised. She turned herself into diamond. Clinking her hands against his hard skin, sputtering out happy gurgles. 

"Really? That's all it took?" Hagakure wondered.

Something strange began to happen the longer Kirishima played with Kohaku. She began to deform her skin. Eventually, it writhed and wriggled. Her whole body trembled. She took partial form once, twice - three times. Kirishima stared in awe as she settled on her final form.

"Oh wow!" He held Kohaku up to face his teacher. "Hey! Mr. Aizawa, look! She has a new ability!"

For the first time in over an hour, Shota joined his students. They all crowded around to what happened. In Kirishima's arms sat a baby that looked to be made of rock. Her skin was hard and rough, even crunchy! It had ridges, similar to Kirishima's when he hardened all the way up. Shota snapped a picture of the pair. 

Kohaku laughed, reaching for her father. Shota was surprised to find she was very dense. Not impossible to hold like the metal baby. But she felt like a small boulder. Very weighty and sturdy.

"Look at you," Shota chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "I'm very proud of you, Kohaku."

Kohaku went back to normal. Shota wrinkled his nose as soon as she did. He held her slightly away from him. Apparently all that effort to change made her soil her diaper. He wasn't the only one that smelled it. A few others were covering their noses. Some even gagging.

"I'm going to change her. I'll be back in a few minutes." Shota took her to a side room with the diaper bag. He decided it was time to give his wife a call.

"Hey," she croaked as the line crackled to life.

"You sound worse than this morning," he noted grimly. "Are you taking care of yourself?"

[Name] coughed. "Of course. I've had three glasses of water today. Plus I've been downing cough drops like candy."

"Drink more. I'll pick you cold medicine on my way home from work."

"I can go get it, you have Kohaku -"

Shota rolled his eyes. "I can handle her all on my own."

"Has she been good today?"

He grinned to himself. "Exceptional. I'm changing her now, so I thought I would call and check in on my lovely wife."

"I can't wait for you guys to get home," [Name] admitted. "It's unnerving how quiet it is. And I haven't been away from Kohaku this long before. I keep thinking I hear her crying."

"You need some rest." Shota frowned. "I'll call you again before we leave. We love you."

[Name] sighed in defeat, much too tired to argue. "I love you both, too. I'll talk to you later."

Shota hung up and finished changing Kohaku. He washed his hands, then took her back to the gym. "Are you ready to continue play time?"

All of his students had a new heir of determination. They'd seen what she could do now. Shota didn't know if they'd come up with a plan, or we're just being over confident.

"You have just over an hour until the end of the day," he announced. "So let's make this interesting."

"Wait - didn't Mina destroy one of her toys?" Midoriya asked. The class paled in realization. "Shouldn't we be out?"

Shota shook his head. "The toy Ashido melted down was made by Yaoyarozu. It wasn't one I brought with us. So you all haven't failed - for now. At the moment, only Todoroki and Kirishima are safe -"

"Why is shitty hair safe?!" Bakugo blazed.

"He helped her realize a new ability. I think that's a feat that deserves to be rewarded."

Kirishima grinned. "Awesome! Thanks, Mr. Aizawa!"

"Which leads me to the next part." This whole, honestly, couldn't have gone any better. This was better than he'd originally planned. "I want to see if anyone else can help Kohaku develop her quirk. As long as she isn't hurt, you can try to encourage her any way you see fit. The offer from earlier still stands. Anyone who succeeds is given extra credit, if you win. And gets to skip Midnight's, most likely elicit, sex education class, should you fail. - Your time begins now."

Shota put Kohaku down. She immediately went to Kirishima and rocked up. He hardened up himself as he picked her up.

"Maybe it isn't manly, but you're just so adorable," he said and gave her a little squeeze. 

"Oi, shitty hair!" Bakugo raged, marching over. "How is anyone else supposed to get a chance if you don't put the brat down?!"

"Insult my daughter again, Bakugo," Shota warned, eyes glowing. "And you'll wish Nemuri's class was the worst thing in your future."

Bakugo huffed. "Yeah, whatever."

"So…." Kirishima chuckled awkwardly. "Who wants to go first?"

"I'll give it a go!" Sato stepped forward, downing a thing of sugar. Kohaku was unimpressed as he powered up and flexed some. He gave up pretty quickly.

"It's okay, you tried your best," Ashido encouraged as he passed her. 

Kaminari stepped up next, flashing electricity in the palm of his hand. Kohaku seemed to enjoy the show, but there was no sense that she was trying to change. 

"Oh, c'mon," Kaminari groaned. "Don't you want to be an electric baby?"

"So she can fry herself and be as dumb as you?" Jiro teased. "I think not."

"Alright then, you give it a go!" Kaminari slunk away dejectedly.

Jiro and Kohaku exchanged a long glance. Then she extended her earphone jacks towards her. However Jiro retracted them immediately as Kohaku reached for them.

"Sorry, Kohaku," she said and jerked thumb behind her. "But you're not doing to me what you did to Tsu."

"You all aren't doing it properly," Iida scolded, stepping forward. "Allow me to demonstrate. Kirishima, put her down."

Kirishima did as he was asked. Kohaku was not very pleased. She went back to normal as she eyed Iida.

"Look here, little one," Iida instructed. He showed off his leg engines, revving them for show. Kohaku tilted her head. 

Iida took a sprint around the room. Then came to a stop in front of her again. Kohaku laughed at that, reaching her arms out. 

Iida shook his head. "Now you try."

Kohaku pouted. Kirishima laughed. "She wants you to pick her. Maybe if you took her on a run with you?"

Iida glanced between his classmate and the baby. Finally, he sighed and picked her up. He tucked her to his chest with one arm, then took off into a sprint. Shota had a feeling her hair was going to be a big knotted mess afterwards.

Kohaku looked slightly green as they came to a stop. Iida put her down, then gave her a small lecture on how his engines work. How she could incorporate them. But, honestly, she was a baby. So of course the whole thing was lost to her.

"You do know that's not how children work, right?" Uraraka asked.

Ashido crouched in front of her, conjuring a whole hand of grey mush. "How about you become a slime baby for Auntie Mina?"

"You sound stupid," Bakugo snapped. "Stop calling yourself that."

Ashido threw the slime at him. "Why don't you shut up?! Nobody asked you!"

It took a few people to cool him down. The sound as his hands began to pop got Kohaku's attention. She crawled right past Ashdio, who was still trying to coax out a slime baby. Kohaku sat staring up at Bakugo, watching as his hands crackled.

"What're you looking at?" he snapped, glaring at her. 

Kohaku stood as the popping stopped, and pulled one of his hands into her own. She looked closely at his palm and then flipped his hand over. She seemed dissatisfied. Kohaku made a soft pa, pa, papa, pa.

Bakugo frowned. "What are you doing?" 

"I think she wants you to use your quirk again," Sero pointed out. Kohaku continued to make the soft pa, papa, pa, pa, paap.

Bakugo sighed. But he did crouch to her height. "I need my hand back to make them pop."

Kohaku seemed to understand and immediately let go. Bakugo took a step away and lit his hands up for her. Kohaku squeezed in glee. She threw her hands up, making louder pa, papa, pa, pa!! She began running around again. Kohaku ran back through the terrain.

"Oh, way to go, Bakugo!" Mineta groaned. "You scared her. Now she's going to get out!"

"Shut it, extra," Bakugo snapped. "I didn't scare her."

"Not with his quirk, anyway," Kaminari snickered quietly. Bakugo turned to him, blazing.

Everyone went back up and over. Kohaku was nowhere in sight.

"Oh no, we lost her!" Ashido exclaimed. "I am not sitting through Miss. Midnight's class with you people!"

"She's not lost!" Midoriya exclaimed. "Look, over there!"

He pointed down by the far wall. Sure enough, Kohaku looked ready to go through it. 

"We won't reach her in time," Todoroki said.

Midoriya launched off. "I got her."

Unfortunately he went right through. Smacking face first into the wall.

"Idiot, Deku!" Bakugo took off after. "I'm not going to fail babysitting because of you!"

He landed, popping his hands again. Kohaku turned to him. She crawled over Midoriya, going to sit and watch the show.

"Wow, Bakugo is surprisingly good with kids," Ashido said, faintly.

Everyone dropped down to sit by Kohaku. There wasn't much time left. They just had to keep her entertained for a little while longer.

"Hey, Todoroki! Why don't you make some snow?!" Hagakure cheered.

Kaminari looked incredibly confused. "What?"

"Do you really think that will work?" Kirishima asked.

Hagakure nodded, even though no one could see it. "Sure, nobody can resist playing in the snow!"

Todoroki touched his hand to the floor. It iced up. Then a large flow started, not quite freezing all the way. Bakugo was not pleased as it crashed over him, dousing his flames. Kohaku's head popped out of the snow. She giggled happily as she looked around.

"What the hell, Half and Half?!" Bakugo yelled, melting the slush around him.

Kohaku crawled through the snow. She started taking chunks in her hand and compressing them. Everyone was a little confused when it congealed into ice. Until Kohaku started to tremble again. She stretched and jellied and shook. Then, finally, took form. This time, she looked to be made of ice. 

Shota snapped another picture. "Maybe we should let her see quirks in use more often."

"Aw, man, that's not fair!" Mineta whined.

"I mean, of course Todoroki would be good at this. He's good at everything." Hagakure shrugged. 

For the first time, Kohaku seemed to notice her. Just a uniform with no body seeming to be attached. Kohaku wandered over to her. She put her hands on where Hagakure's face should be. She was definitely surprised there was something there.

The disturbed look on Kohaku's face faded quickly. She patted Hagakure's face a few more times. Then began to shake again. She flickered a few times.

"This is amazing," Uraraka said in awe. "How do you think she's catching on to quirks so fast?"

"Observation, I suppose," Iida noted. "Look!"

Finally, Kohaku managed to flicker all the way out. Just a t-shirt and pants. She giggled to herself. Hagakure picked her up and hugged her tightly.

"I feel so flattered," she cried.

Bakugo grumbled. "She probably would've picked up my quirk, if you extras hadn't distracted her! Then she'd a real power!"

"No offense, Bakugo. But the last thing Mr. Aizawa and nurse [Name] need is another one of you," Kaminari said.

Bakugo was ready to argue again. A few people scrambled to cool him down. Shota admired the scene as they fought. Kohaku was coming along quite well. Better than he'd expected. He and [Name] had been afraid to let Kohaku around people while using their quirks. But he was starting to see how it's be beneficial to her.

Sure, there were things she'd figured out on her own. But she was very smart for her age. And her abilities with her quirk, the control, the range - it would make her something of a prodigy. He would have just to make sure to lead her down a good path. But not feel like she was being forced to do anything she didn't want to.

Shota wondered if any of the other hero courses would mind the exercise. That way Kohaku could be exposed to more, so she could learn. He'd have to have his wife take her to sit with the class beforehand. So she knew them. Then he'd take on the day of exercise. Just in case her quirk needed erasing.

"Enough of this," Iida yelled, finally. "We've nearly completed the exercise. Just a few more minutes, then you can argue about this outside."

Bakugo huffed. Kohaku became visible again and wriggled out of Hagakure's grasp. She went back to Bakugo. Pa, pa, pa!

"Yeah, pa," he groaned. He lit his hands up. But everyone nearly ran as Kohaku became an inferno. The flames were wild. Blazing and licking at people. She tottered from side to side. Melting the snow Todoroki had created.

As she tried to run off, fire still uncontrollable, Shota thought it was time to step in. He leapt down and joined his students.

"That's enough, Kohaku," he scolded. His eyes glowed and his hair flowed around him. Her flames were immediately doused. She tried to flick them back on a few times. But nothing worked. She wailed as she realized she couldn't do it anymore. "If you can't use your quirk responsibly, then you aren't going to use it at all."

Shota picked Kohaku up. She must've been getting tired from using her quirk, and playing so much the last few hours. She was getting cranky. But Shota knew she'd zonk in the car seat on the way home.

"We're calling it early, Kohaku is tired," Shota said. He wanted to add and so am I, to the end of it but refrained. "I'm proud of how each and every one of you did today. Surprisingly, you all passed. Congratulations. You're better with children than I thought."

"So - no Midnight?!" Ashdio asked excitedly.

Shota shook his head. "No, you saved yourselves. Barely."

"Uh, should someone take Deku to Recovery Girl?" Asui asked, leaning over his slumped form by the wall. "I think he knocked himself out earlier."

"Asui, you and Uraraka take Midoriya to the nurse's office while I finish up here."

Uraraka went and lightened up Midoriya, then her and Asui made their way out the door. 

"Todoroki, Kirishima, Hagakure, Bakugo - you all get extra credit. If you don't need, or want it, you're more than welcome to give it to someone else. Just let me know who."

"I know exactly what I'm using mine for!" Hagakure cheered.

"C'mon, man," Kaminari groaned, tugging at Bakugo's sleeve. "I know you have perfect grades! Give me your credit!"

Bakugo glared. "Get off me!" 

Kirishima awkwardly went up to his teacher. He grinned shyly. "Hey, Mr. Aizawa, if you ever want a babysitter, I'd be more than happy to watch Kohaku. Whenever you need."

"I'm sure she'd like that. I'll keep that in mind," Shota noted. And he would. Kohaku really seemed to like him, and he and his wife hadn't gone on a date in ages.

"Mr. Aizawa, is that all for today's exercise?" Iida asked. "Are we free to go?"

"Yes. But first - I just wanted to say thanks to all of you," Shota started. "You all did well handling her. There doesn't seem to be a scratch on her. She's learned a lot, but still has a long way to go. I know she'll keep today with her, even when she's older." Shota checked the time. They really had made it to the end of the day without an incident. "You're all free to go."

"Hey, Mr. Aizawa," Ashido started as the group left the facility. "Why did you bring Kohaku today?"

"Because even nurses have sick days." 

Kohaku slept on the way home, and while in the store. Shota couldn't wait to get home and tell his wife about his day. The one he'd planned all for her. He was sure she'd cry laughing so hard. It was all worth it if he could cheer her up, even a little bit.

The house was dark and quiet when they got in. He didn't bother flicking on any lights. Just in case it woke up Kohaku. Instead just setting down his things and going to look for his wife. She was curled up in their bed asleep in a mountain of tissues, some DVD rolling credits on her laptop. Shota laughed to himself. 

He moved everything and laid Kohaku down next to her mother. His stories would have to wait. For the time being, it was family nap time. That was truly the perfect ending to the day.

~

Taglist

@spiderwinchester @sinclairsamess  @dudesorriso @burningdragonfarmpainter @just-a-generic-username

 @lucinda-barnes-black @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy @heathers-inner-thoughts @cherraybomb @give-a-rookie-a-cookie @babayaga67 @asaucecoveredsomething @izzythefanfreak @blazelover132 @jacobsmemesibling @theravencawsatmidnight  

[loudstan]

Epiphany

A collection of  NCT werewolf AU stories.

Doyoung (pt.1) (pt. 2) (pt. 3) (pt. 4) (pt.5)

Summary: The wolf population kept decreasing and those who were left had a hard time trying to fit  into society. Sure, people didn’t consider them as dangerous as vampires, but wolves could still sense some hostility every time they did as much as go for a walk in a public place. Thanks to wolves’ natural magical abilities, NCT (one of the remaining packs) found a safe place among witches in a town where no one knew their secret, allowing some members to finally get a job, study and interact with others without fear of being rejected.

Life seems to finally be peaceful for them… except that wolves have needs, and one of those needs is finding their mate.

Pairing: Werewolf! Doyoung x Witch! female reader

Warnings: Eventual smut, Doyoung being stubborn.

Doyoung’s schedule is incredibly tight. After he wakes up, he goes for a quick run, takes a shower, helps Taeyong wake up the rest of the pack and proceeds to prepare breakfast along with the oldest members all before seven in the morning. And that is just the beginning; on his way to class he goes over what he studied the night before (until 3 A.M), stops to buy a big cup of coffee and starts his busy day as a student. 

  He was majoring in Magic Law because, as he said, he was good at arguing and lawyers made good money. Following a strict routine and being as intelligent as he was,  it didn’t surprise anyone when one of his professors asked him to be a teaching assistant when he was a sophomore. Now, during his final year, he accepted to continue with this job, since the payment was good enough to help provide for the pack. Truth be told, he always felt like he wasn’t doing enough. His original plan was to start working as soon as he graduated from high school, but Taeyong, leader of the pack, didn’t allow it, as he insisted education was important and he wouldn’t let Doyoung miss out because he wanted to help the pack.

  He didn’t like being told what to do, but Doyoung knew better than defying his leader, so he accepted, but focused on being efficient and graduating as soon as possible to, finally, work full time and be one of the pack’s providers like Taeyong, Kun and Taeil.

 I need to work harder.

  He  tried to concentrate on his notes but his vision was blurry. Thinking he was just tired, he drank the rest of his coffee and scanned his notes one more time while entering the classroom where he would be teaching a new group of freshmen. His heart was beating like crazy and his hands were shaking.

What’s wrong with me today?

 He couldn’t be falling sick. He had no time for that. 

“Are you okay?”

 Doyoung looked up and saw a woman standing at the door, looking genuinely worried about him. He saw you.

His heart started beating even faster as the sweet aroma of peach and fresh grass surrounded him. He sighed and his pupils dilated as he stared right into your eyes, his fingers clutching the papers he was holding.

You looked at the young man in front of you. His frame trembling slightly, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and dark circles under a pair of beautiful piercing dark eyes. You felt your face warm up a little when you caught yourself shamelessly checking him out. Calm down Y/N. This is your first day, you can’t be falling for the first guy you see.

“Is this Mr Choi’s class?” you asked and looked around to confirm the classroom was completely empty. You had come extra early in case you got lost.

 The man just glared at you, narrowing his eyes, he seemed to hate you already and you guessed you had probably fucked up in only five minutes. 

 “I apologise if I was impolite,” you said, not wanting to fail the subject because of a terrible first impression even though you weren’t sure what you did wrong. “I am-”

“My mate.” he growled.

“-a freshman law student…?” you finished your sentence with a confused whisper and then there was an awkward silence that you had no idea how to fill.

 If you were getting nervous, then Doyoung was freaking out. He didn’t even have time to get enough sleep at night. How was he supposed to make time to have a mate?! 

Having a mate also meant his wolf would want to start a family soon. Children were expensive. If he spent money on his own wife and children then he wouldn’t have enough to spend on his brothers. WIFE? Why was he thinking about marriage already?!

Concentrate. I need to concentrate. I’m panicking for no reason.She has no idea who I am and what is happening right now. If I just ignore this feeling it will go away. I can control this.

 “Should I leave-?” you asked shyly as you stepped back after what felt like an eternity of silence.

“No,” he hissed and you stopped moving- you didn’t even dare to blink. “This is professor Choi’s class, but I’ll be in charge of today’s lesson.” He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply (which he knew was a big mistake once  he took in your fragrance), and exhaled shakily only opening his eyes again when his breathing had calmed down.  He looked at his notes again, like Foundations of Magic Constitutional Law was more appealing than burying his face between your legs and finally introduced himself.

“My name is Kim Doyoung, the TA for this class.”

[vennilavee]

poisoned apples

pairing: levi x reader- grad school/boxer au summary: you tell your parents about levi and they aren’t too happy. so you do the logical thing and break up with him.  word count: 4039 warnings: blood, fighting, angst, oc’s family is very annoying (her family is against her and levi being together), levi is lowkey creepy for like 1% of this story, SMUT AT THE END (18+) a/n: another installment of perpendicular heavily inspired by the first gen experience and dating...enjoy. and ty to @bbygrgu​ for catching when i made dad a mafia boss by accident

The first time you had told Levi that your parents wouldn’t approve of him, he had shrugged it off. What did it matter, anyway? He’s never known you to care very much about what other people think.

But your parents’ approval was different.

You’ve always been the apple of their eye, their youngest princess who could and would do no wrong. Even when you kept your grades up in high school, when you were the picture perfect daughter- they didn’t know what you were up to. You had maintained your image of innocence until the moment you could move out for college.

They didn’t know what you were up to behind the scenes in college. And now, in graduate school.

They didn’t know that you smoked with your boyfriend, that your boyfriend had split knuckles from boxing more often than not. But they also don’t know that your boyfriend works two jobs to support his sick mother, that he’s in the top ten percent of his masters in computer science program and will surely have a job lined up after graduation.

They don’t know that you love him. They don’t know how much he loves you- how he’d walk the ends of the earth for you. How he’s your pillar, your person. They don’t know that despite the cold steel of his eyes, he has the biggest beating heart of anyone you know.

Because you haven’t told them. You know your parents better than anyone- that they’ll judge him before they know him. 

You’ve been together officially for the better part of nearly a year. And officially, it’s been a little longer. Levi can tell when something’s on your mind by this point- from how your pout turns a little thoughtful and your eyes are far away.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders and rubs your upper arm. “What is it?” Levi asks quietly.

“Huh?” You ask, breaking out of your reverie and turning your gaze towards him. A fading bruise sits on his jaw, and you thumb the area around it tenderly.

“You’re quiet today.”

“Maybe I’m just tired.”

Levi raises his eyebrow at you, as if to wordlessly say “really?”

You’re silent for a few moments before sighing and leaning into his chest. “I think I want to tell my parents about you.”

Levi will never pressure you about things like that- he knows where he stands with you and you know where you stand with him. But he won’t deny the small upturn of his lips.

“I’ve already met your mom and your uncle,” You continue softly, “I think I’ll tell them.”

You’ve told Levi about your parents before- about how you had to secretly and cleverly maneuver through the invisible rules they had you under. How you still find trouble spreading your wings. How most of your childhood was mainly you being told not to bring trouble, that your parents had it hard as it was-

“Always knew it.”

“What did you know?” You roll your eyes at him.

“You’re naughty,” Levi smirks, “You put up this pretty princess persona. But I know you. You’re smart and vicious and not afraid to get dirty.”

“You sure? You know it’s nothin’ to me if you wanna wait,” Levi murmurs, nose in your hair.

“Yeah,” You nod, “I think it’s about time. I… want them to know you.

“I love you,” You say almost shyly and Levi drops a slow kiss to your lips in response.

And that’s that.

Needless to say, the next time you saw your parents a few weeks later you were planning on telling them about Levi. Nerves seized you- despite your attempts at convincing yourself that they’d be happy for you- that you’d found someone who loves you wholly and completely…. You can’t help but think that something is about to go wrong.

It’s over dinner that you’re planning on telling them. Your older brother and older sister are in town as well, and are helping Mom with setting the table as you wash the pots and pans.

This is where you grew up, and yet you’ve never felt so uncomfortable.

Once there are five plates of hot food and glasses of water in front of your parents and your siblings, you take a deep breath.

“I have something to tell you,” You say clearly, resisting the urge to pick at the hem of your brown corduroy skirt.

Four pairs of eyes turn to you curiously and expectantly.

“I’m seeing someone,” You say, your voice a little less confident than before. Mom gasps excitedly, bringing a moment of relief to your senses. Your siblings stare at you unnervingly, as if they can see right through you. Dad only looks at you with wide eyes.

You don’t know what to think.

“Tell us about them!” Mom says eagerly.

“Umm… well,” You stammer with heated cheeks, “He treats me well. We go to the same school, he’s doing a masters in computer science…”

That makes Mom and Dad’s eyes light up. You roll your eyes. Still, your siblings say nothing.

“Show me a picture,” Mom demands, stretching her hand out for your phone. Desperation for her approval clings to your heart like a synapse that never stopped surging. 

“He looks oddly familiar…” Mom murmurs with narrowed eyes, “Do you know him? Where do I know him from...” She turns her head to your brother and sister. 

They’ve never been particularly good at lying. Or rather, this time- they just didn’t want to. 

“That’s the guy,” Your sister says, not meeting your eyes, “The one we saw her with. The one we told you is in a fight club-”

Your jaw drops, and no noise comes out of your throat. Horror lines your tongue and you have to squeeze your nails into your palms to stop panic from flooding your veins.

But your brother is shameless and always has been. He looks you dead in the face, something cruel spinning in his irises and says, “His name’s Levi. Ackerman. We saw-”

“So you’re spying on me now?” You hiss, the full weight of their actions not quite hitting you, “You both don’t have anything fuckin’ better to do?”

Mom gasps at your language. You scoff at her, throwing a nasty look her way. She deflates only slightly- because she’s never seen such a look on your face before.

“You’re our baby sister,” Your brother says, and you stand abruptly from the table, pointing an accusing finger at him. “We only want you safe.”

“I don’t need your concern!” You hiss at him, eyes narrowed to slits and flames licking your words.

“If it wasn’t for us, you’d be parading around with a washout who boxes illegally! You should be thanking us,” Your sister says, returning your fire.

“No,” You seethe as tears of frustration spring into your eyes, “He treats me well, he’s so good to me. He respects me, isn’t that what matters?”

Before anyone can counter you-

“Enough!” Dad bellows as he stands from his seat. The heat in your belly extinguishes, but only barely. You tear your blazing eyes away from your siblings and to your father, about to scream right back at him. 

“If this is true,” Dad continues, “If this Levi boxes illegally-”

“He doesn’t have money either, Dad,” Your sister supplies. 

“Oh my god,” You screech, “You’re such a-”

“If this is true, you won’t be seeing him anymore. I don’t want to hear about this again. And if you think about seeing him behind our backs… we’ll know. And you won’t be getting that tuition money for school anymore.”

You’ve never hated them as much as you did right at that moment.

Your heart hasn’t felt the same since you were home that weekend. It’s been a few days, and you haven’t reached out to Levi yet.

You need to break up with him, you know it. You won’t risk your education on him, no matter how awful it is for your parents to very much blackmail you with it.

It hurts that you don’t have their approval. 

You’re delaying the inevitable. So when Levi shows up to your apartment on the following Wednesday with your dinner from your favorite Thai restaurant, you feel your heart shattering already. 

“Hey, princess,” Levi says smoothly, dropping the food to the dining table and trying to pull you into his arms for a kiss. You turn your cheek at the last minute, not able to look him in the eye. 

Levi immediately knows something is wrong- you’re never this silent. Your hands are pressed against his chest, almost holding him away from you. 

In the last year and change that he’s known you, he’s never known you to reject his touch. Not like this.

“What’s wrong?” Levi asks, cradling your cheek. Your lips are parted, a shaky exhale expelling from them. Your eyes are a little red and puffy.

You’ve been crying. You’ve been crying and he had no idea.

“Levi,” You mumble in a small voice. As if you’re trying to memorize the way his name feels on your tongue.

“Princess,” Levi replies, worry beginning to creep into him.

“I told my parents about us,” You mumble, the confession adding to the tension of the room, “And my brother and sister.”

He stays quiet, waiting for you to continue.

“I can’t… they said I can’t be with you. They said they won’t help me with school if I’m with you,” You mutter, feeling foolish as the words slip from your lips, “They don’t want me to be with you.”

Levi steps back from you exactly two steps and it feels like he’s plunged a knife into your chest. The loss of his touch echoes in the emptiness of your hands. You cross your arms across your chest unsurely. He stares at you in silence for a few deafening moments. Your ears might bleed from the silence.

“So what are you saying?” He finally asks after a minute.

“That I can’t be with you. I-I’m… I’m breaking up with you, Levi,” You finally muster out. Unshed tears sit in your eyes and Levi is too in love with you to resist comforting you when you’re this distressed- even if you’re breaking up with him and breaking his heart.

Levi gathers you in his arms and thumbs away your falling tears. You broke up with him, and he’s comforting you- the thought makes you choke out another sob.

You both stand like that for a few minutes, your tears staining his black coat. The silence between you both is palpable and suffocating. 

The only viable option you see is letting him go. But you don’t want to, god, you don’t want to- not when this man is your other half. When he’s your best friend, your favorite person, not when he gives meaning to the word love. 

Levi finally speaks.

“I won’t tell you what to do. But just know I’ll treat you right and you’ll never feel caged with me,” Levi murmurs, tendrils of adoration tinting his words, “I love you.”

He presses a long kiss to your forehead before leaving your apartment. His kiss feels unfamiliar, and when your knees buckle and you’re on the floor, a sobbing mess, you realize why-

It tasted like goodbye.

One month. Two month. Then three.

You’ve never been the girl helplessly in love. You’ve never been the girl who wouldn’t be able to get by without the reciprocated love from your lover. You’ve never been the type to spiral recklessly. You’ve always been fine after breakups and dates that had gone sideways.

You can live without Levi, but you don’t want to.

But loving and losing Levi hurts worse than any kind of pain. You see him everywhere on campus- a tuft of silky, black hair here, a glance of a similar looking backpack there… You even think you see him at the coffee shop that you met him at. If you were stronger, you’d avoid that coffee shop altogether. But you don’t want to let go of the memory of your first time meeting him, and you don’t want to let go of the opportunity to watch you both in your mind’s eye.

Everything reminds you of him. Everything brings tears to your eyes. You’re just a stupid girl in love with a man you can’t have.

You haven’t spoken to your siblings since that day, despite their many attempts to reach out to you. Texts, claiming that they were just looking out for you and that they loved you, went unanswered by you.

You can’t bear to speak to them. You think if you’d ever muster the courage to reach out to him again… You wonder what you might do. A small part of you hates that your family still has this grip over you- that you’re in love with a man who respects and loves you and protects you, and because they don’t approve- you can’t be with him.

You hate it. You hate that you succumbed to it. You hate that you hurt him- the heartbroken kiss he had given you has been replaying in your mind every day. Every night.

It still hurts as if it’s fresh, as if three months haven’t gone by since you broke up with him. You often wonder what Levi is doing-

After all, he hadn’t put up any type of fight for you. But you don’t allow those thoughts to get very far. It’s not like you had positioned it as something to discuss. You had made the final call and pulled the trigger on your relationship. 

It was because of you. Was it worth it? To break up with him? For your family’s perceived happiness?

The questions leave a dull ache in your heart. You feel as if you’ve been spoiled with his love, and you had carelessly ripped his heart into shreds.

Today, you’re walking to one of your exams in your building and you swear you catch sight of Levi’s hair in the atrium of the building. But it’s gone as quick as it comes. And you head inside, putting thoughts of Levi behind you to focus on your exam.

Levi has been distracted for the last three months. Even if it doesn’t show- even if he’s doing spectacular in school, even if he’s on a new win streak in the boxing ring- his mind is almost always elsewhere.

His mind is always on you. What are you doing? Do you miss him? Is your relationship with your family improving? Is it worth it?

He’ll never tell you what to do, or what decisions to make. He only wants you to make a decision with no regrets, if that decision is truly what you want.

But damn, he wonders if you regret this decision. Levi has always been good at compartmentalizing- he lives by the same philosophy. Make a choice with no regrets. He’ll never regret following your lead and giving you what you want.

But what if you hadn’t wanted it? And what if… he hadn’t wanted it either?

Levi sees you more and more in the last month or so- showing up to places that you both used to frequent as a couple and places on campus. The coffee shop, some of your lecture hall buildings. He remains in the background, as a shadow. Only to catch a glimpse of you. Are you happy? 

Your eyes are sullen, your smile dimmed. But he’s sure nobody can tell. Because you’re good at that- being the perfect princess.

He feels like a ghost in his own life. Is this living?

Levi has to move on. He loves you, his love for you still burns as bright as it did months ago. But he has to move on.

Erwin tells you that there’s a boxing match tonight. It’s the finals of whatever the equivalent of playoffs in the boxing world is-

“He’d like it if you were there,” Erwin says, voice uncharacteristically soft.

“So he can tell me himself,” You say somewhat bitterly, “We’re not...together anymore.”

You choke.

“You and I both know he won’t tell you himself. Not when you broke up with him.”

“So it’s my fault then?” You exclaim. Erwin only watches you with wary, calm eyes.

“I’m only telling you what’s true. You don’t have to come, but he’d like it if you were there.”

Over the last few weeks, really since the first night without Levi, regret has been settling in your bones. Had you made the right decision? Was it worth it, to be this unhappy? Just to maintain harmony with your family? You think if you hadn’t rushed to break up with him, you could have talked about it. Levi has always been level-headed, almost too level-headed (like the way he had just accepted you breaking up with him). 

You think you could conquer anything with Levi standing next to you.

You can’t stay away. So you’re in the stands of the ring, watching Levi warily. He looks good- he’s bulked up a little. But you can see the lines of weariness beneath his eyes. 

You still ache for him. You are still his. Seeing him this close only solidifies what you already knew. 

You are undisputedly his. And he is yours.

Watching him, throw punch after punch, and sidestep jab after jab… All for his mother. To support his family. 

Tears well up in your eyes. You want to be part of his family. The epiphany hits you like a freight train- but it’s a welcome one. 

You want to love him the way you know how. You want him to love you.

You wait in the locker room for him, anticipation surging up your spine as you pace around the locker room.

Erwin looks like he’s got a stick up his ass, and Levi doesn’t hesitate to mention it. Levi rolls his eyes and walks into the men’s locker room.

But nothing prepares him for the sight he sees in front of him.

It’s you. 

It’s you, sitting on the bench, looking as pretty as ever. Gold hoops hang from your ears, a sunflower yellow blouse with the top three buttons unbuttoned and a plum colored skirt hugs your hips.

You bite your bottom lip, tearing through your skin mercilessly. Your heart slams right out of your ribcage. His eyes are narrowed at you, drinking you in. 

He’s a man dehydrated and you are his oasis.

Before you can whisper his name, he beats you to it. “Why are you here?” Levi asks sharply. His voice is flat, but you can hear the undercurrent of anger in his voice. Hurt masked by anger.

“Yeah, I missed you, too,” You mutter, standing up from the bench. You keep your distance from him, feeling the iciness in his glare. “Erwin told me you were fighting today. Somethin’ about the playoffs. Just...wanted to see you.”

He quirks a thin eyebrow at you. “Wanted to see me three months later?”

You immediately get defensive, “It’s not like you were dying to see me, either.”

A flicker of annoyance, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just let me go- you could’ve… You could’ve fought for me! You just fuckin’ let me go,” You exclaim in frustration, tears pricking your eyes.

“Don’t- you picked your family,” Levi says harshly, “When we could’ve figured it out together, you chose to be alone. Don’t put that on me.”

“I didn’t know what else to do! I thought I was doing the right thing,” You hiss, tears falling down your cheeks openly now. You’ve never been good at hiding your feelings from Levi. “You just let me go. As if the last year meant nothing to you-”

“The last year meant nothing to me?” Levi asks, his voice perfectly level. He takes a few steps closer to you and your breath hitches.

Your head is spinning. He hasn’t been this close to you in months- and yet it feels like no time has passed. 

“I love you,” Levi says quietly, “We would’ve figured it out. If the last year meant nothing to me then, this,” Levi darts out, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his bare left pec, “Wouldn’t be yours. It’s always yours, princess. But damn, baby. It hurt.”

“Levi,” Your voice is strangled, in pain, “I’m sorry, my love-”

“You made a choice,” Levi says pointedly, “Do you regret it?”

“Yes,” You breathe, “But I’m scared for us, for you-”

“We’ll figure it out,” Levi promises, cradling your face in his rough hands. He catches your stray tears with his thumb and presses his forehead to yours.

“I missed you,” You choke out with a sob, “So fuckin’ much. I’m sorry, I hurt you. I hurt us. I love you, I love you, I love you. I know we have so much to work through. But I love you, and I believe in you.”

“Let’s go home,” Levi mumbles, resisting the urge to drop kisses to your forehead, your cheek, your lips.

“Will you let me love you,” Levi rasps, cupping your cheek as he rocks into you slowly. The head of his cock brushes against your walls prettily, as if no time has passed since the last time.

He belongs here, inside of you like this. You mold to him and he molds to you.

Levi squeezes your waist, dipping his head for a harsh kiss. He kisses you as if he’s loved you for a thousand years, and he’ll love you for a thousand more.  He peppers soft kisses to your face and you moan into his touch, notes of his name escaping your lips.

“I love you,” Levi grunts as he rolls his hips into yours in movements of honey.

He’s not usually this talkative. But he knows you both need it. Levi sucks a mark, then another, over your tits and you tug your hands through his hair.

“Baby,” You whine, “Wanna give you everything...Love you, I love you, fuck, I’m sorry I hurt you-”

“You are everything,” Levi says, his nose in your neck, “Gonna give you everything, princess. Fuck-”

Levi nearly loses his rhythm at the gush of wetness that floods his cock. He groans and looks between you both, at the way his cock pushes into your wet pussy. This is where he belongs, in between your soft thighs.

You take Levi’s hand in between yours and squeeze. You think you could stay like this forever, with him moving so unhurriedly above you. His hips melting with yours, the broad expanse of his back pliant under your nails.

“Be mine again,” You beg, “Please, baby, be mine again-”

“Will you let me love you,” Levi asks again, gazing deep into your eyes.

“Yes, yes,” You moan, “Like that, baby- fuck, o-oh- Levi…” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to you as your tits brush against his glistening chest. You see the moon gazing at you through his irises.

You want everything, and he is everything.

You’re boneless in his arms, tucked into his side with the sheets covering your bare body. A leg is thrown over his waist and you rub mindless circles over his chest as he holds you close. Not wanting to let you go. 

Your breaths are soft against his warmed skin. Your eyes are still puffy, from crying but Levi always thinks you’re pretty. 

And having you in his arms, in his bed, after three months is an added plus.

“I meant it,” You mumble sleepily, “I love you.”

“What about your family?” Levi asks, squeezing the hand resting on his chest.

“I don’t know,” You say shakily, “I’m scared. But wanna figure it out with you. For you, it’s worth it. For you, everything is worth it.”

Levi only answers you with a soft kiss that makes your toes curl. He doesn’t know what tomorrow might bring, but he has you today. After this long, he has you for today. 

And tomorrow will come, the sun and moon will rise separately, but you’ll get through it together.

tags: @simpingmaize​ @captainchrisstan​ @bbygrgu​ @alrightberries​ 

[icantthinkofanythingcool3]

Everyone Knows (pt 1)

AN: This has not been edited, let me know anything y'all see and SEND ME REQUESTS PLEASE

Warning: Just some curse words I believe

Stiles, Scott and y/n had known each other for a long time. They had gone to school together since kindergarten, however they didn’t all really become friends until the second grade. While Scott and Stiles had already met, y/n was upset that no one would play with her. So she was sitting by herself on a bench when Stiles and Scott came over to ask her to play. Ever since then, they were all inseparable. While Stiles and Scott were always labeled troublemakers, y/n was always the one that seemed to keep them from getting into too much trouble. Although she would tag along most on most of their adventures, she was much more of a bookworm and homebody.

However, after their adventure the day before sophomore year started, y/n really wished she had stayed home more often. Dealing with the normal teen drama was enough, let alone now with all the supernatural stuff. Having werewolf/banshee/hunter friends and fighting for their lives all the time was really draining and pretty distracting. At some point between the fighting for their lives and trying to not fail high school, Stiles and y/n ended up having feelings for each other...and everyone one knew except for them. Even Lydia’s meddling couldn’t get the two oblivious teenagers to figure it out.

“Hey guys!” y/n said walking up to Stiles and Scott.

“Hi y/n/n!” Scott said, giving her a hug.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Stiles smiled at the girl.

Stiles always called y/n by cute little pet names. It literally made their friends sick and made everyone else think they were together. The two always acted like it was ludicrous that people believed they were dating, even though to everyone else it so clearly looked like they did.

Scott groaned internally at the pair, “Ready for English guys?”

The day passed slowly, as it normally does when no supernatural stuff was happening. At lunchtime, the group was all sitting together chatting about nothing in particular.

“Well, you know what, I think this supernatural quiet time calls for a party!” Lydia said, matter-of-factly.

“I actually agree with you on this Lyds. We definitely need some unwinding in our lives. I’m tired of waiting for the next crazy thing to happen!” y/n said, surprising the whole group.

“Well if the introvert agrees that we need a party, so it shall be. Friday, my house, 9pm. Spread the word lovers!” She said, and was off, surely to begin planning.

Later on in Sociology y/n and Stiles were talking about the party, “I cannot believe you agreed with Lydia about this party, very un-y/n-like.”

“Well, it’s true. I’m tired of always waiting for the other shoe to drop. We deserve to let loose and have a good time for once.” y/n exclaimed.

“Ooooooh are we going to get to see drunk y/n for the first time in our lives?”

“Shut up. I’m not promising anything, but I want to have fun. I want us alllll to have a good time, we need it.”

“I agree with you, I’m just surprised.”

“Well I hope it’s at least a good surprise!”

Stiles laughed at her, more than ready for the party on Friday. He was thinking maybe he’d finally have enough balls to tell her how he feels. That was exactly Lydia’s plan from the beginning as well. Their friends were sick of their oblivious nature, they just wanted the two to be happy. It was like they were actively avoiding it.

Finally it was Friday and everyone was getting ready for the big party. Allison and y/n were getting ready at Lydia’s after helping her set everything up.

“Sooo are you going to confess your feelings to Stiles finally tonight, or?” Allison asked y/n.

“Come on, I expect this from Lydia...but not you. Will you guys just leave it alone? It’s not happening.”

“It’s only not happening because you two refuse to be fucking happy! You literally are so meant to be yet neither of you will admit it!” Allison tried to convey how everyone else had been feeling.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Seriously, can we drop it?” y/n asked, this was not the relaxing time that she had been wanting.

“Honey, you both like each other, okay? That’s all we’re trying to say. We want you to be happy, both of you. You both are important to us.” Lydia said, trying to soothe the mood.

“I know, you guys always say that. I don’t want to ruin our friendship though. I know you guys said he feels the same way, but I just can’t risk it, I won’t.”

The other girls nodded in response and the trio finished getting ready for the night. People started arriving and the girls went their separate ways, greeting different groups. y/n felt bad for the conversation earlier, but she was just upset about how she felt about Stiles. She didn’t want to fuck up their friendship, but she knew she couldn’t keep this up. It was stressing her out and clearly her friends as well. Although she knew better, she grabbed her first drink of many for the night.

When Stiles arrived, he did a quick check around the room for y/n, but then got nervous and decided against it. He told Scott he was finally going to tell her how he felt, but he already felt like he was going to throw up and he hadn’t seen her yet. He was nervous about ruining the friendship, even though everyone else told him she felt the same way. He cared about her so much, he knew that he would do absolutely anything for her, but he just didn’t know what to do. So he grabbed his first drink of the night.

[sisterofsomeone]

花吐き病 - Part 1 – The Beginnings of Cherry Blossom

- Hajime Iwaizumi x Fem!Reader

- Masterlist

- Warnings: Angst, minor character death, swearing,

- Summary: Iwaizumi and Oikawa had been your friends since childhood. Sure you had feelings for Iwa-chan, but they wouldn't be the death of you, right?

———————

I'm not her. I wish I were, maybe then it wouldn't be so painful.

The sky was grey, overcast, and dreary as you stared across the courtyard. You saw some of your friends huddled under the bike shed to avoid the rain, but you were already caught right in the middle of the downpour. It was cold, a chill running through you as you trudged towards the entrance of your school, white shirt almost completely transparent now. This is exactly what you needed on your first day of senior year.

"Oi y/n, you're gonna get sick." He said throwing his jacket over your shaking shoulders and pulling you under his umbrella. "You're an idiot, you know that right?" You nodded silently. Words were always hard when it came to him. You dared to look up at him, his eyes cold and jaw tight. You thought he was mad until a smirk crawled across his face. "Enjoying the view?" You flushed, darting your eyes back to the ground while he chuckled softly above you. His hand guided you forwards as your legs grew still next to him. “Hurry it or I’ll leave you out here in the rain.” He barked out, causing you to rush to be beside him again. He was warm and smelled of cinnamon and birthday cake. All your friends would snicker whenever you said something like that, but it was true to you, the only way to describe Iwaizumi correctly, as abstract as it was. His hair was dark like the bark of an oak tree, hands calloused but firm against your back, pushing you ever forwards. You had kissed him once at a party in middle school. His lips were soft, movements strong at first before the boys started to poke fun at the two of you. He grew hesitant and eventually pulled away, leaving you stunned and flustered. It was a stupid dare he said as he wiped his mouth and smiled at the boys, but to you it meant everything. He tasted of sunlight and summer; a warm, buzzing feeling spreading through your chest, intoxicating you. Now you know, that was when it took root.

Iwaizumi ushered you to the nurse’s office, telling her you had been caught in the dreadful rain and she took you in without hesitation. Iwaizumi left with a silent nod in your direction as the nurse instructed you to undress and swap into some dry clothes, she had some spare and laid them on the bed for you before pulling the curtains shut. You did as you were told, undressing, and handing her your wet clothes. His jacket hung loosely across the back of the chair you had placed it on, but you enjoyed it being there. Iwaizumi always looked after you, and had done so ever since your mother passed three years ago, but he was a good friend to you even before all that. Your father had told you about your mother’s death over dinner, rather callously, saying that she had not been strong enough to survive the operation. You excused yourself from the table and ran all the way to Iwaizumi's house without shedding a single tear. His father opened the door, welcoming you in with a smile and shouting for Iwaizumi to come down and say hello. You silently followed him up the stairs, the news hadn’t reached them yet, so he was absentmindedly mumbling about some new move he learnt at practise that day. He kicked his bedroom door open and motioned for you to sit down. His room was messy, clothes scattered around the floor and dirty plates stacked on his desk. He caught your eyes and pulled you into his chest. “What’s wrong? You’re not okay.” That’s when you broke down, allowing yourself to finally cry for your loss. You felt all that pain, and he was right there with you through it all.

“Hey? You okay darling?” You blinked, not realising you’d been staring at the jacket.

“Y-yeah, just cold.” The nurse nodded and closed the curtain again to give you your privacy back while she went to turn up the radiator. You pulled the scratchy grey jumper over your head and shimmied into the black skirt she’d left on the bed for you before finally putting his jacket back on your shoulders. It was warm, Iwaizumi had brought it when you two went shopping a year ago, saying he looked like a shoujo-romance-manga-guy. You’d scoffed at the time, but you couldn’t help the fluttering of your heart. Your chest was aching as you watched him observe himself in the changing room mirrors, seeing him fix his hair and smile stupidly at his reflection. He was beaming when you shot him a weak smile back, exclaiming that this was the jacket he was gonna buy. You’d tried to remind him that it was more than he had said he’d wanted to spend but he dismissed you by saying that if you liked it, it was worth the extra money.

“Thank you for the spare uniform, I’m gonna head to class now. I’ll be back for my clothes at the end of the day if they’re not dry beforehand.”

“Okay darling, just be careful now, and don’t go back out into the rain without an umbrella!” She was smiling at you, but her tone was laced with worry as you rushed out of the little office.

The class had begun as you pulled back the door.

“Nice to finally see you today.”

“Sorry I’m late-“

“Miss, Iwa-chan did tell you that he took y/n to the nurse’s office.” Oikawa said as he waved at you. You smiled softly at him, and the teacher muttered something about rudeness or tardiness. You took no mind as you rushed to your seat beside the setter.

“So, see-through shirt trick hey?” He nudged you with his elbow and you flicked his forehead.

“More like I didn’t look at the weather forecast and left my umbrella and coat at home today. No trick. I don’t even think there is a trick that would get him to notice me.” You dropped your head onto your desk and heard a sigh leave the boy next to you.

“You never know until you try!” His sing-song lilt always annoyed the hell out of you.

“I can’t even speak to him, let alone pull off flirting with him.” You sneered back as Oikawa chuckled softly beside you.

“Well, you better figure it out fast. I hear she’s gonna confess to him today under the cherry blossom tree in the school garden.” The emphasis was apparent, and the word dripped with disdain as it left his lips. Oikawa hated Aoi almost as much as you did, but the two of you seemed to be the only one’s immune to her charms – sadly, that included Iwaizumi.

“It’s only a rumour, so you may be lucky. But I wouldn’t count on it sadly.” You lifted your head to meet his gaze. He was staring at you so intently, looking for any sign of distress in your face, but he didn’t find any. You were good at hiding your feelings.

“Good for her, I just hope she’s good to him.” You forced a smile, sitting up and finally paying attention to the teacher and the grammar lesson she was attempting to teach.

Oikawa continued to try to get your attention all morning, but you ignored him, opting to throw yourself into boring lesson after boring lesson, pretending to be okay with the idea of Iwaizumi falling for anyone but you. Your chest ached, lungs burnt, but you just pushed all the pain down and faked a smile, answering any questions thrown your way easily. He threw paper at you; pens poked your sides making you yelp and have to fake sneezes to cover the sounds.

“Fucking stop it Toru.”

“Oh, first name? I must be in trouble.” He smirked, throwing more paper your way while the teacher’s back was turned.

“You are. I’m so gonna kill you for this.”

“Then admit you’re upset.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m not upset. Iwa-chan isn’t mine to be possessive over.” Your chest ached at this admission, your body reacting to the idea of losing something that was never quite yours to begin with. Oikawa raised his eyebrow at you quizzically.

“That’s such a lie.”

“No, it’s not. He is free to date whoever he wants.” Your chest didn’t seem to agree, the tightness growing and your lungs burning. “And so am I.” You beamed at the setter, seemingly unfazed but he didn’t buy it.

“Like you would date anyone else.”

“I could!”

“Could not.”

“Could so!”

“Could-“ There was a loud bang as the board eraser collided with Oikawa’s shoulder, covering you both in a cloud of chalk dust. You recoiled, spluttering, and gasping for air.

“If you two are quite finished arguing in my lesson!” The teacher shouted. Oikawa protested for a moment, before the threat of another eraser being thrown at his head this time shut him up for good. Finally, some peace and quiet before lunch.

Oikawa’s girls had always hated you, but now they were easily planning your death, figuring out how to make it look like an accident. He had followed you at the start of lunch like a lost puppy. You headed to your usual area bento in hand, towards the bench beside the volleyball gym, and when you went to sit down he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap. That’s how you ended up like this, with Iwaizumi looking very uncomfortable sitting next to you two.

“So, this is new.”

“Oh, this? Nah, you just never see this side of y/n.” Oikawa teased, wiggling his eyebrows as he placed his hands on your hips. You yelped and glared at the brunette underneath you.

“O-Oikawa…” You stuttered out, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. You turned to look at him, your face red and body shaking softly.

“Aww y/n! Don’t be like that! You love sitting on my lap, don’t you? You love it when we’re alone at least.” Oikawa purred into your ear, but obviously loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear.

“Okay shitty-kawa, leave the poor girl alone.” He said, wrapping his hand around your arm and pulling you off of the brunette and onto the bench beside him.

“Aw, you’re such a buzz kill.” Oikawa poked his tongue out, pulling his eyelid as well and Iwaizumi just rolled his eyes.

“Shut up dipshit.” He said laughing softly. It was a nice noise.

“You would think after ten years of us, she’d get bored you know?”

“Oh yeah, all your other girls ran off within a few months max.” Oikawa threw a bit of his omelette at Iwaizumi, narrowly missing his friend. They shared a laugh across you, the sounds already calming you.

“You’d think you’d stop getting handsy with y/n after she so obviously turned you down last year.” Iwaizumi teased.

“Hey! She didn’t turn me down. We agreed we would be better as friends – mutually!” Oikawa pouted as you stifled a giggle. Iwaizumi glanced down at you, a smile spreading across his face when he saw you fully relaxed again. This was how you loved spending time with the two of them, just joking around and having fun. It wasn’t long before you were all separated again and had to rush off to class for the afternoon. But soon you’d be able to watch them practise after school like always, and that was the highlight of your day.

He was late. Iwaizumi was never late, but here it was 20 minutes into practice, and he wasn’t there. You had checked the changing rooms, running field, even his classrooms, but he wasn’t anywhere. You walked slowly back to the gym through the gardens, thinking about calling him, when you heard it.

“I like you. I like like you, Iwaizumi.” Silence. You hid behind the stone wall in the garden, just out of sight of the pair.

“Aoi I-“

“You don’t need to answer me now, just tell me there’s no one else.”

“Look, I’ve told you I’m single-“

“But you haven’t told me if there’s anyone you like yet, Iwa-chan.” It sounded wrong coming from her, the nickname sickly sweet, almost heavy in your ears.

“Aoi, -“

“Tell me there’s a chance for me Iwa.” You could almost hear the pathetic fluttering of her eyelashes from your hiding place. He would never.

“There’s a chance. But I want to get to know you first, okay?”

That’s when you felt it for the first time. The clawing at the back of your throat. You rushed to the bathroom, gasping, and struggling for air as your chest tightened. Throwing open the bathroom stall you retched into the toilet bowl, eyes watering and body shivering. Then you saw them through the tears streaming down your cheeks. Cherry blossoms were lying in the toilet bowl. You coughed and spluttered, bringing up more of the pale pink petals. They fluttered momentarily, before hitting the water and settling. That’s when you knew you couldn’t ever love anyone else, and you couldn’t survive without Iwaizumi loving you back.

- Tags: @haikyuu-cafe @sassyglassesbunny @cuddlesslut @daphnxy @bakugouswh0r3 @playboygeniusphilanthropist

[fallingforyou123]

Cinnamon and Roses- A Cupcakes and Therapy moment

Summary: A soft night in the bakery, fresh flowers and cinnamon sugar.

A/N: Here's the next bit of Cupcakes and Therapy, a late night date and some deep conversations. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1707

Warnings: Angsty sadness

Part 1

Masterpost

The day had felt like it would never end. The bakery had been busy this morning, a rush of people almost selling out the fresh pastries you’d spent last night baking. The afternoon had brought an unbearable heat that was only made worse by the warmth of the oven. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of seeing Bucky after you had closed the shop for the night.

You’d scoured your recipes trying to find something you’d think he’d like. You knew he liked the simple things, so you’d found a cinnamon bun recipe that you hoped he’d enjoy. You’d closed the shop a few minutes ago and were now preparing the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. You walked out from the back and saw Bucky standing on the other side of the glass, a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hands.

You open the door and let him in, accepting the flowers that he hands to you, “Bucky! These are beautiful, thank you.”

You reach up to place a kiss on his cheek, and suddenly he’s blushing like a teenager and you’re giggling at him. Bucky follows you into the back and watches as you place the flowers in a vase, “It’s rude to stare, ya know.”

Bucky chuckles at that. “Not starring, just admiring the view.”

You busy yourself with grabbing the last few things you need for the cinnamon rolls, willing the blush on your cheeks to go away. You turn around to face Bucky, handing him an apron, “Here, put this on. We’re making cinnamon rolls, you’re gonna get messy.”

He takes the apron from you and ties it around himself while you start explaining the first few steps. You begin preparing the dough mixture while instructing Bucky on how to do the yeast. You move in a sort of synchronized dance, the both of you falling into a comfortable rhythm, the only sounds being you uttering the next step of the recipe.

When it comes time to let the dough rise, you invite Bucky back into the front and bring out two bottles of beer. “When did you open the bakery?” His voice is a smooth break in the silence.

“When I was 20. I’d decided university wasn’t for me, dropped out after the first semester and ended up travelling for about a year. I ended up in this little town on the border of Spain and France. There was this bakery I’d go to every morning, run by a pair of older ladies, the spunkiest women I’d ever met, Emile and Lucía. After about the third or fourth day, they stopped me and asked in broken English, why I was always alone. I ended up spending the day with them telling them everything I could, a conversation of broken words. At the end of the night they offered me a job, said we could teach each other languages and I could learn to bake.”

You took a moment then, to catch your breath, to ease away the pain of the memories. Bucky hesitantly grabbed your hand, running his thumb along the back of it. With a shaky breath, you continued. “I spent months there, learning every recipe I know. Then one day when I came in, Emile was sitting at one of the tables, and she looked at me. I knew something was wrong but couldn’t bring myself to think about how bad it could be. She told me that Lucía was gone, she had went to bed the night before and never woken up. Suddenly the dream I had been living for almost a year had turned into a nightmare. Emile couldn’t bear to run the bakery anymore and my visa was about to expire, so I helped her sell it. We had a small funeral, Lucía had no family, so it was just us. After that I came back here, took some courses and bought this place.”

You wiped a few stray tears from your cheeks and looked at Bucky. He’d been watching you with a soft gaze, lost in your story. “They meant a lot to you, I can tell. They were your second family.”

You scoff at this, “More like my only family. After I left university, my parents cut me off. Haven’t spoken to my sister since highschool. She moved across the country with her football scholarship boyfriend after graduating, I think she’s got a little boy now. Emile and Lucía were all I had.”

“I know what it’s like to lose everyone. My family’s long gone, blood or not.”

The two of you share a moment, realizing that you might be more alike than you thought. Hands still intertwined, looking into each other's eyes softly, a domestic moment. You lean in slightly, a breathes space between the two of you. Fluttering eyes and a warm hand against your cheek. A sudden ringing, a reminder of where you are and a moment gone.

You pull away from Bucky and motion for him to follow you back into the kitchen. You fall back into a peaceful silence, Bucky rolling out the dough the way you instruct as you make the filling. The two of you laugh as he spills some of the filling on himself, a small comment about the apron slipping out of your mouth, a pinch of flour being thrown at you in return.

Before you know it, the pastries are in the oven and you’re sitting back at the table. The sun has set and the moon is bright in the sky. You watch the last few people in the streets as they head home for the night, the city turning over to the hands of those seeking a drink.

This time, it’s your voice that breaks the silence. “Tell me about your family.”

Bucky looks at you, hesitancy written all over his face. The life he lived not one he shared often. He begins slowly, leaving out the terrible details, “My parents died when I was young. My mother to a sickness that took her in a week, and my father to a war. I had a sister, Rebecca, she went off to boarding school after our parents died and I didn’t see much of her. Met my best friend during school, the two of us enlisted in the army when we were young. He went in as this scrawny little kid, came out someone I ended up looking up to, literally.” A small chuckle escapes him at the memories, “After the war I spent a lot of time hating myself for the things I’d done, the people I’d hurt. Ended up finding peace for a little while, before the blip. After that, I lost everyone. No one came back the same, and now I’m here, just me and my cat.”

You look at him for a moment, the two of you basking in a soft understanding. Yesterday, you were strangers, but today you’re something more. An ache begins to form in Bucky’s chest again. He doesn’t fully understand what this is, but as he follows you to the kitchen, he’s lost in a dream of what life could be. He’s known you for 24 hours, but he already knows that you’re meant to stay, in whatever way you want.

You catch him staring at you again as you’re pulling the cinnamon buns from the oven. You think to comment on it, but decide against it, finding it endearing. “Grab me the icing please. It’s better to put it on while it’s hot so that it can soak in.”

Bucky grabs the bowl and hands it to you, your fingers brushing for a second, the ache in his chest growing stronger. You drizzle the icing over the buns carefully, almost like it’s an art form in of itself. When you’re done, you take them out of the pan, placing them gently in one of the glass containers, keeping two out on plates. “We’ll eat these two now, and the rest you can take home.”

You hand him one of the plates, taking the other for yourself, and lean against the counter. The lighting is dim and the room has grown warm from the oven, a feeling of peace falling over the pair of you. You watch as Bucky takes his first bite, a smile coming to his face, “Reminds me of the ones my Ma used to make.” Memories float behind his eyes at the thought, and you’re happy that you can allow him this peace.

Bucky’s beside you now, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. You sit in this moment for as long as you can, enjoying the domesticality of it, something you haven’t felt in years. A small yawn escapes you, the long hours of the day finally catching up on you. Bucky looks down at you, a soft smile on his lips, “Seems like I’m keeping you up past your bedtime.”

You glance at the clock, noticing the late hour, “I’m an old lady at heart, I’m in bed by 9:30 most nights.”

Bucky chuckles lightly at this, moving to start cleaning up. He begins washing the few dishes that won’t fit in the dishwasher while you finish wrapping up the pastries. It only takes a few minutes, and soon you’re both standing at the front door, wrapping your coats around yourselves. “Can I walk you home?”

You give him a small nod, exhaustion keeping you from doing much else. You walk in silence, Bucky’s arm rubbing against yours every few steps, hands slowly inching their way towards each other, but never fully intertwining. Your apartments only a few blocks away, and before you know it you’re standing on the steps saying your goodbyes.

“I had a nice time tonight, thank you for this.”

You smile at Bucky and reach to kiss him on the cheek, “Anytime. Don’t be a stranger, call me, or stop in and say hi.”

With a small wave, you head into the building and make your way to your apartment. Bucky waits until you’re fully inside before turning and heading to his own building. A soft smile playing on his lips as he disappears down the street.