content: fluff, very soft, slight angst, implied sex but non-explicit, one curse word, during time-skip, implied that itâs the day before the attack on Marley.
words: 1.4K
He was always wondering where you were. It was strange, really. Before meeting you, he never had anything that plagued his mind other than the thought of a vast world outside the walls. He would picture fiery lands and cold mountains, inspired by the pictures in his books. He would even see those sights in his dreams, imagining what it would be like to ride his horse through those magical landscapes, his friends by his side. Maybe even the air would smell different, perhaps sweeter than the scent of blood and shit he was so familiar with. Every night he dreamt of this world, the taste of freedom on his tongue.
Now, he dreams of you.
Especially at times like this. When it was quiet and late into the night, and he knew, he feared, how dangerous tomorrow would be. Even his trusty book, with its few pages loose and damaged from the years of flipping through it, wasnât distraction enough. He trailed his fingers over the fading pictures, brushing over them with a gentleness only he possessed, and sighed. What he failed to notice was how your careful gaze was observing him in silent worry.
"You look tired."
He startled, the beautiful sound of your voice, delicate and concerned, digging him out of his reverie. When he raised his head from his book, he was more than ready to take in the sight of you, his beautiful angel who still made him blush even after months of intimacy. And you didnât fail to disappoint him, your form standing in the opening of his private tent. He felt immediate relief.
"I didnât think I would see you tonight," he smiled faintly, the light in his once bright blue eyes dimmed but not yet extinct. Your expression mirrored his, tired and worn out with years of sleepless nights and deadly expeditions. You turned to close the slight gap in the tentâs opening, tying the knot and smoothing the thick fabric, thus forbidding the outside world to enter your little haven.
"Hange was done with the last few details of the plan, not that I was much help to them anyways. I figured Iâd come see youâŠ" you trailed off, words left unsaid. It might be the last time we ever see each others like this. After all, you were about to set the world on fire and you doubted you could come back from this unscathed.
Well, Armin would never miss an opportunity like this one. He raised from his chair, carefully putting the worn book aside. You stood there, quiet and sleepy, unmoving as you admired him. His face was illuminated by the dimming candlelight, and while he walked the few steps that separated the two of you, you took in the intricate details of his features. It had been impossible not to fall in love with his complexion; faint freckles on his sun kissed nose, long blonde eyelashes kissing his cheeks with a blink and the soft, inviting pink plump of his lips. He called you an angel, and yet he was the otherworldly one.
The rest of his body was just as beautiful, strong yet surprisingly gentle, seemingly untouched by hunger and pain. But you knew better. You noticed how his eyes seemed to hold the burden of war and duty. You remembered oh so clearly the nights spent crying silent tears or screaming ugly sobs in each others arms. The fear of losing each others, the horror he felt at the thought of losing control and annihilating everything around him, losing friends and dying with dreams unfulfilled. These nights were all too familiar. You desperately sought for nights where gentle touches and private smiles were exchanged.
So in this moment, when you knew that if you extended your hand right in front of you, you could touch him and feel at peace, nothing could hold you back. Therefore, the only logical choice was to move forward.
And he immediately caught your extended fingers in his warm hand. You could never comprehend how soft his palms were, even after years of harsh work and training. Every soldier you knew had their hands hardened by years of slaying Titans and fighting to survive. Armin was just different, you thought. He slayed with his tongue and battled with his mind. It seemed the only purpose for his hands was to gently hold yours.
You pressed your palm on his chest, eager to feel his heartbeat. You never went a day without feeling his pulse soothing you. And he let you. The atmosphere outside the tent was tense, soldiers either readying themselves for what tomorrow would bring or drinking until they couldnât stand. However, right in the middle of your little world bathed in candlelight and soft touches, everything seemed timeless, free from burdens and duties.
Armin leaned towards you and pressed his cheek against your forehead. He enjoyed the feeling of your warm skin against his own, your steady breath hitting his neck and your hair tickling his cheek.
"You know," he started, your skin warm, his heartbeat steady, "Iâve read about this type of fish in the ocean that weâve never seen before. In the book, they call them 'sharks'."
You hummed, your eyes half lidded with sleep. "Sharks?" He nodded, and in a moment of tenderness, he tilted his head to kiss your cheek before returning to his previous position. You couldnât help but smile.
"Apparently they are predators of the sea, vicious and dangerous. They come in all shapes and sizes, and theyâre all hunters. The book even mentions how they have teeth sharp like razors and that they possess the ability to smell a drop of blood in the water from long distances."
"They sound quite awful. Build to kill." Your mind conjured the sight of a deadly sea animal, with teeth long and sharp like swords, eyes scarlet red and a body as big as those Marleyan boats.
"Maybe theyâre just misunderstood," Armin whispered. His voice felt like a saccharine melody dripping into your soul and his hands started playing with your hair. "Perhaps itâs in their nature."
For a second, you noticed how his voice trailed off, mind lost somewhere you couldnât follow.
"Then we should befriend them," your silly suggestion tugged a smile on his lips. "After all this. We could find out where they like to swim and build a little house there. Even if itâs in the middle of the sea." You pressed your cheek to his chest and he wrapped his arms around your waist. "We could observe them and maybe weâll discover that theyâre not so bad after all. Perhaps the biggest ones are the friendliest, the most gentle and caring sharks of all. And weâll use your beautiful talent with words to rewrite history books and make sure those creatures are never misunderstood again."
"It seems youâve got it all figured out," he chuckled. Walls, he loves you so much.
"Of course," it was the most obvious thing after all. Were you to survive all of this, you knew youâd spend the rest of Arminâs days exploring beyond the sea with him and befriending the world. "Weâll build our cottage, weâll even get a dog, or three, and weâll ride our horses onto the beach," you were mumbling against his shirt and you only now noticed how you both had unconsciously started to sway together, dancing to the music of your future.
"We could open a bookstore," he suggested, and his eyes lit up at the thought. It seemed you had both decided to ignore your impending doom. It was much more pleasant to picture yourself with Armin, walking on sandy beaches hand in hand, playing with your dogs in the fields, cooking delicious meals together, and making love into the night.
"With⊠lots of books in all sorts of dialects." You felt yourself dozing off, yet you fought sleep with all your might just to appreciate the moment for just a second longer. "A whole collection of books dedicated to sharks. And⊠multicoloured seashells and rocks to brighten up the place."
"Hmm," his eyes were closed, lost in the fantasy. Acting on instinct, he slowly and gently guided the both of you to the bundle of blankets you had accumulated on his cot over the last few weeks. You followed without question and giggled when he tugged your body so you both fell on the pile of softness. "Letâs make plans for tomorrow then."
You smiled gently and settled next to him. You tangled your legs together while he wrapped the thin blanket over your bodies.
"Yeah. Tomorrow."
He knew that tonight he would be dreaming of you and your impossible future together.
ââ y/n and erenâs parents are close friends that is how she made it into the group
ââ y/nâs parents own a development company and own a bunch of different buildings across nyc
ââ y/n used to do cheer with historia but then quit to focus on fashion
authors note: kinda a short first chapter but we r just setting stuff up yaaaa đȘđȘ gossip girl?? đźđź who is it??? tbh idk yet but we will find out one day. also adding fun facts to this bc theyâre - gasp - fun!
tag list: @calumsfringe @rory-cakes @entrapta25-blog @usernamehere91
cw: 1.3k wc, this is my entry for @gojoath's yandere collab! this armin comes with charm and a hint of obsessive behavior, it's quite short but i haven't written anything in a minute so i hope you'll still enjoy :)
âUhmâ excuse me?â
The soft voice peels your attention away from the thick book youâve been immersed in for the past minutes and you suddenly find yourself focusing on delicate features, azure gaze limpid yet hesitant boring into yours.
âIâm so sorry, is it okay if I sit here? The cafe is packed, Iâve been waiting for half an hour nowâ a tentative smile stretches rose shaded lips âand, well, I could only gather enough courage to ask because weâre kinda here to do the same thing. Unless youâre waiting for someoneâ the smile grows wider, cheeks dusted with a pink so pretty as he holds up the same book you had started reading just yesterday on the subway.
A little taken aback, you smile too and his dimple gets a little deeper in turn.
âSure, take a seat! Iâm not waiting for anyoneâ
Armin graciously lets his backpack slip from his shoulder onto the floor and places the battered copy of Les Miserables on the table, at measured distance from your latte. You fixate on the book as he wanders off to place his order, not before offering one last relieved smile and uttering a thanks so quiet it almost gets swallowed by the voices murmuring at different tables and the sound of the coffee machine behind the counter.
The book is worn out, with black ink stains smeared across the fore edge, rendered thicker by what you assume are colorful sticky notes used for annotations. Is he studying it? Or is he just one of those readers who are the complete opposite of you? Always so careful, almost reverent with each title: your fingers explore attentively, to feel the furrows that make each page special, invisible irregularities that make you smile and bring comfort until you truly canât resist anymore and bring the book up to your face to give it a quick sniff. When you encounter a paragraph or a sentence that you canât risk forgetting, the palest trail of a pencil is the only thing you use to highlight it.
When the stranger comes back with his cappuccino, cocoa powder sprinkled on top, itâs a bit disappointing that he simply sits down across you and picks up the book once more without uttering a single word. Usually youâd simply go back to reading too but he has nice hands with fingers that spread prettily to hold whatâs not exactly a light book, the afternoon sun is hitting his fair hair just right and youâve been sitting in silence for enough time to crave a chatâ
His gaze travels up from the page that had his brows furrowing and youâre so embarrassed to be caught staring with the same intensity some lurker would have.
âGod, sorryâ you chuckle nervously, blood suddenly simmering underneath excessively layered clothing, âitâs just⊠you seem to really like it. The book, I mean. Iâm always scared to ruin the ones I love the most but yours seems just as lovedâ.
He smiles and a pretty blush sets on his cheeks as one hand timidly scratches the back of his neck.
âWell, I mean, love changes things. I like looking back at the things I loved and seeing how different they are compared to when I first got them, you know?â
âYeahâ you smile back âyeah, I think I know what you mean. Would it be weird to ask about the notes youâre taking?â
âOf course not, but Iâd ruin the book for you. To keep it vague and spoiler free, I usually highlight dialogues or descriptions that really impress me. If they remind me of authors or poetry I have already explored, I expand on the concept and add my own thoughts. Itâs messy and very underwhelming once you actually go through itâ his awkward smile radiates warmth and, hell, you think itâs attractive.
âYou sure make it sound anything but underwhelming, thoughâ you deem the chuckle you elicit a small victory, so itâs only natural to finally introduce yourself.
Armin utters his name with bashfulness, heâs aware it sounds odd but your reaction to hearing it for the first time is the one thing he wouldnât have been able to predict. You say it back: Armin. Wow! Are you from Germany? I think it comes from Arminius. Yeah, sorry, I have a Classics degree!
Armin.
It sounds so much better when you say it and he licks his lips by a weird reflex that tastes like coffee instead of the sweetness of your chapstick: youâre wearing it today too, not really one for lipsticks, the dim lights of the crowded cafe accentuating the mild shine of your pretty lips. 100% natural, moisturising peppermint lip balm. He canât wait until heâs alone once more to apply the waxy consistency to his lips with his index finger, just like you always do.
âJeanâ Armin replies to your question with ease, his thoughts are already wandering off but you certainly donât need to know that as you take a sip from what heâs sure itâs a latte gone cold ânot only because he shares one of my friendsâ name. I just love that he embodies hope, even in such darknessâ
He knows youâre gonna love Enjolras and perhaps even Eponine, conflict and tragedy always, inevitably luring you in. Armin wouldnât love you as much if you werenât so fascinated by pain: the movies you usually pick, all the plays you have watched with friends and family, even those ridiculous true crime podcasts you listen to at night right before going to bed, show that you have depth, that youâre interested in the fundamental sorrow and evil that lies in everything human.
Not in you. The pettiest thing you ever did was getting the last twix from the vending machine at your workplace, to get back at your idiotic colleague. Youâre incapable of being selfish or wicked and thatâs what worries him the most, thatâs what keeps him awake at night and urged him to finally bring himself to come out into the open.
It's a little unfortunate: he hates ruining books and had to visit a couple different shops to find an edition that would match yours, hours spent cracking the spine, aging those brand new pages, adding empty colorful sticky notes and random stains. Tea, coffee, ink, the explosion of an old but elegant fountain pen, different bookmarks to make the book look thicker, fuller, filled with thoughts that never really existed. He's read it while in high school, hated every page, each character, dialogues and painfully detailed descriptions a never ending agony that used to fuel his nightmares as a student.
Most importantly, Armin is far from having everything ready for you just yet. But man, was this worth it. Youâre more beautiful than ever up close, your voice is as smooth as the satin of the pink ribbons he has bought for you. Now Arminâs certain theyâll match the color of your eyes just right.
âYou have a friend named Jean? Thatâs so cool!â you lean forward over the table, itâs imperceptible but, like an opposite magnet, heâs instantly drawn to your floral scent.
âHeâs okayâ he chuckles with sincere affection âalways drags me along for the most insane hikesâ
You huff, sympathetic.
âOuch. I hate hikesâ of course you do âIâd probably just ghost himâ
âTried that. He has the keys to my apartment so he simply dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawnâ
You wrinkle your nose adorably.
âDamn, thatâs some dedication. Maybe Iâll end up meeting this Jean guy and convince him to leave you aloneâ
Armin freezes in his seat. Ths first thought that crosses his mind is not a chance in hell.
Heâll keep his friends away from you, Jean and Connie and Eren, with their charming smiles and good looks and lame jokes youâd be too polite not to laugh at. Youâre too good for them, youâd be too good for anyone, the thought of you sitting in a coffee shop on your own is already torture. You truly donât realize how hideous and dangerous the world and its people can be.
âWhatâs that face?â the silver tinkling of your laugh is a pleasant interference for increasingly febrile thoughts âyou werenât even going to ask for my number, after all this?â
Armin blinks his surprise away, heat spreading in his chest with the intensity of fireworks explonding in the night sky.
Warnings: Historical!AU, afab!painter!reader, manga spoilers, implied sexism and feminism(?), making out, established relationship
CHEF-D'OEUVRE
/ËSHÄËdoÍovrÉ/ a masterpiece.
Never in a million years would you have guessed that your husband would agree to become your model, but here you are. Though you canât quite say his reaction was one you were expecting at all.
âŻâŻâŻÂ ââŠâ âŻâŻâŻ
You are a distinguished young lady, coming from a family of well-respected men and women alike, and he was a member of a reformist group that lived in the offside of town, who had long been orphaned because of a tragic accident.
When you were told that women would never be accepted into an art academy, you traveled to the unlikely side of town to seek out like-minded people, such as those who believed that women should have equal opportunities as men when it comes to studying art. That was when you met the reformist group who so actively stood for the equality of men and women.
How likely is it for someone like you, to stumble upon a âlost soulâ like him amidst all of this? And how much more likely is it for you to end up falling in love with said boy, even after knowing of societyâs disapproval of your union? The answer is not likely, yet not likely doesnât mean it canât happen.
You found solace with one another, and now he becomes more to you than just a lover. He has become your muse.
Synopsis: Nevermore AU! Usually, Isagiâs visions would revolve around soccer or his teammates, this time however⊠it was different. This time it involved you going to the woods and being attacked by a werewolf.
Warnings: Nudity (nothing NSFW though), violence (?), general Wednesday Netflix series shenanigans, but not everything is based on Wednesday so some things might be different, perhaps swearing.
⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . âŠ
The weather is cold⊠too cold for him to be sitting outside with nothing but his uniform on. Then again, when is it not cold at Nevermore Academy?
He admits he shouldâve worn his jacket, but did he? No. Absolutely not. He feared that he mightâve regretted the circumstances far too late now.
So here he sat, among his teammates, who last he remembered, were playing charades in the middle of the courtyard like no one was watching.
âSmelly breath?â Bachira guessed, earning a head shake of disapproval from Kunigami.
âA person with smelly breath?â said Igarashi. âThatâs what he said you dumbass!â chided another.
âWell, then I donât know what the hell thatâs supposed to beâ again, Igarashi rebuked. Kunigami on the other hand, persisted even though no one knew what he was trying to act out; flailing his fingers around his face as if it was supposed to imitate flaring. Was he trying to act out a face on fire? Isagi couldnât tell.
âItâs not a face on fire is it?â he tried to guess, but Kunigami shook his head once again. Well, it was worth a shot.
âItâs a DemogorgonâŠâ Chigiri chimed in unenthusiastically. Somehow his answer was correctâŠ
He usually doesnât mind the cold all that much, but this is too cold even for him. He wondered how the rest of his friends seem to be holding up, despite not wearing any additional cold-weather attire.
âSeriously? Howâre we supposed to guess Demogorgon from thatâ
"I've never even seen one before"
With that, the group broke out into small rebuttals and snide remarks, but Isagi was far too occupied with holding in a shiver to actually join in on the groupâs chaos.
His demeanor finally broke when a strong gust of wind blew past them, and his hands flew to his sides in a pathetic attempt of protecting himself from the cold breeze.
The bell rang, much to his delight. So he quickly picked up his bag and said his goodbyes to his teammates before walking into the school building, where the temperature is arguably warmer than it is outside.
As he pushes through the ocean of students, he notices that his eyesight starts to get blurryâ usually a telltale sign that he was about to get a vision. You see, Isagi is a psychic⊠He had the ability to foresee the future; and around the time when he first joined Nevermoreâs soccer team, his visions only became more intense and vivid.
He found a way to sharpen this ability, of course. Heâs even learned to use foresight to predict his opponentâs next move. Some might argue that this is an unfair way to play sports, but when youâre in Nevermore, outcasts are encouraged to hone and embrace their uniqueness.Â
So using his visions as a means to an end isnât an outrageous thing to do⊠not when others can use telekinesis to move the ball in their favor, or when Gorgons use their power to petrify their opposing teamâ not to mention werewolves tend to be super strong and fast, so theyâve got that as an advantage already.
Usually, Isagiâs visions would revolve around soccer or his teammates, since his visions only tend to occur when heâs feeling a particularly strong emotion, like being hyped on adrenaline. This time⊠it was different.
Heâd bumped into you in the hallways, and you quickly apologized before walking away, thinking nothing of the encounter.Â
But from his point of view, he saw flashes of a dark sky⊠trees⊠forest⊠a full blood moon, and⊠a creatureâŠ
No⊠not just any creature. A werewolf⊠a really mean-looking one.
He saw the beast lunge at him before attacking, then the vision flashes to an image of you, laying on the ground under a tree. You were injured; mostly your body was tattered with scratches, probably inflicted by the beast he saw earlier.
He finally came to when another student bumped into him. He opened his mouth to call out to you, but the repercussion of his vision prevented him from forming coherent thoughts in his head. In the end, he could only watch you as you disappear into the swarm of students, forcing him to walk away, afraid that if he dwells on you for too long, he might be late for class.
He spent the rest of the day thinking about the vision heâd just had. Worrying over the fact that you might be in danger. True he doesnât know you all that well; he does know your name and youâve spoken from time to time, but that is as far as his knowledge about you goes. He doesnât even know what kind of outcast you are, but even so⊠his opinion of you stands in a positive light.
Needless to say, youâre not a stranger. If there was a chance that he could stop you from being gravely hurt, he should take it. The reason why the vision came to him in the first place was probably so he could prevent it from happening, right?
Without putting too much thought into it. He set off to find you after equipping himself with appropriate things he might need later on to face the feral werewolf.
Thankfully Isagiâs used to going to soccer training after class, so Bachira didnât really question him when he left their shared dorm after classes and told him that âIâd be out lateâ.
His blue eyes fell upon the bright white orb in the deep navy sky. His boots prowled through the heaps of leaves that scattered across the earth's floor. To his dismay, the sky started pouring at a rapid pace. The ground beneath him became a lot softer, and inevitably it makes it hard for him to navigate through the forest. He shouldâve brought a raincoat.
The pitter-patter of the rain and the booming of thunder didnât help make it easier for him to find his way eitherâ but by some miracle, he stumbled upon a familiar sight of a wooden sign standing a few feet from where he stood. He recognized that sign from his vision. This is the path you took before you got attacked by the werewolf. Now the question begs⊠where were you?
In the distance, through the sound of falling rain, he hears a screech. Although your voice sounded strangled, he could still recognize it. So he ran in your direction, lightning speed as fast as his feet could take him. He can hear your pained screams and gurgles, mixed with occasional howls and growls; in the back of his mind, heâd hoped he was not too late.
He eventually reached a clearing, and as he halted, so did your voice.
There was no one there⊠he was all alone⊠and whatever footprint was left to help him trace your steps would have been washed up by the rain. Aimlessly, he started scanning the area. He wanted to call out to you⊠to someone, but heâs afraid that by doing so, he might alert the werewolf of his presence instead.
He backed up a couple of steps before hearing a loud thump behind him.
He freezes. Then⊠from behind him, he heard a monstrous growl. Isagi didnât need a vision to know what was standing behind him
His body turned around faster than he could even blink, and there stood behind him was the werewolf he saw in his vision. It stood on top of a rock and its stance tells him that the monster was ready to pounce. Suddenly the memories of the vision came rushing back to him.
The vision of the werewolf lunging forward and attackingâŠ
That vision was going to happen. The vision he saw wasnât of the werewolf attacking you, it was of the werewolf attacking him. You were probably long unconscious somewhere, thatâs why he had a vision of finding you injured.
The beast roared before charging at him, just as his prediction foretold. Luckily he dodged the attack in time. He's probably got a few scratches on his palm now, but he'll worry about that later.
He was swift enough to get back up, grab a wooden log nearby, and smacked the werewolf across the face when it jumped at him again. Though, remembering that this is probably a fellow student, Isagi made a mental note to not be so rough.
He was about to give the beast another blow to the head when he stumbled on the wet slippery concrete beneath him. Curse the rain⊠why did it have to rain now of all times.
When the monster came running at him at full speed, he quickly shoved his hand in his pocket to grab the one thing he brought that could possibly save him from this quandary. Sleeping Stardust.
A small amount should be able to put even a mountain troll to sleep, but sleeping stardust isnât known to be very effective when used in the rain. Isagi could only hope for the best as he throws the dust at the monsterâs direction. With his eyes closed, he waited for his demise⊠luckily, the Grim Reaper has yet to make a visit.
The monster jumped back upon making contact with the sleeping stardust. It squealed and whimpered, shaking its head around; presumably trying to shake away the dust that had gotten into its eyes. Eventually, the werewolf fell to its knees.
The sleeping dust is workingâŠ
Then the beast dropped to the ground and fell unconscious.
Isagi let out a sigh of relief, but he wasnât done here yet. He quickly got up to find you, however before he could take a step, the sleeping werewolf transformed back into its human form. The figure becomes more and more familiar the more human it becomes.
Finally, once the werewolf fully transforms, realization dawned on him like an anvil tied to a piano falling from the sky.
You were the werewolfâŠ
Once the shock subsided, Isagi rushed to your side and wrapped his hand around your shoulder to pick you up. How stupid could he have been to not realize that the vision wasnât of you being attacked⊠it was of you attacking him.
He pushed those intrusive thoughts aside. Right now making sure youâre okay is his priority. âHey! Hey you okay?â he called out, pushing a strand of wet hair behind your ear. He then presses two fingers on your neck to check your pulse.
He knows sleeping stardust isnât lethal, but he just had to make sure.
Your body slightly squirmed in his grasp as your eyes slowly crack open. âOh thank GodâŠâ he breathed out, then he slowly helped you sit down. You asked what happened, and he told you,
âYou wolved out⊠Iâll explain later once we find shelter⊠here, can you stand?â he said extending his hand to you, and you took his offer gladly before attempting to stand up, but ultimately stumbling as you tried to steady yourself.
Isagi was quick to react and catch you before you end up falling to the ground; you thank him.
He hadnât noticed this before with everything else practically overwhelming his better judgment, although now that your body is literally pressed against his, he can no longer ignore the fact that you are stark naked before him.
âI-Iâm sorry Iââ you started, âIâve never um⊠this is the first timeâŠâ you tell him.Â
By now heâs pieced it all togetherâ this is your first time turning, hence why you were so aggressive towards him. Werewolves tend to have that effect when they first turn. They lose control of their humanity and the beast within completely takes over. Some are lucky enough to be able to be in control from the start; clearly, thatâs not the case for youâŠ
He had it all figured out, he really did... just... right now his brain is too bewildered to even comprehend intelligible thoughts. He could practically feel his face heating up, and his mind drawing a blank.
âIâŠIâwell uhâŠâ whatever brain cells he had left in his head had now flown out the window.
Have you not realized that youâre completely naked? Sleeping stardust does tend to make the consumer unaware of their surroundings for a little while. But regardless of how numb and unaware you are right now, you must be freezing cold.
âAh!â he gasped, finally realizing the most important thing at the moment. âYouâre probably freezing! H-here! Take my jacket!â he stuttered profusely, as he covers your body with his blazer.
âO-Oh⊠thank you,â you say, finally realizing your indecent apparel. You hug the blazer tighter, hoping itâll help you cover up, but his blazer could only cover so much. He then guides you to a cave nearby where the two of you will take cover until the rain stops.
âAre you comfy? Cold? Are you hurt anywhere?â he asks. He helps you to sit down, even though you insist that youâre capable of walking and sitting by yourself. Itâs kind of endearing how doting he is of you.
Once the two of you settled, you waited for the rain to stop
âSo⊠what were you doing out here?â he asks, likely to defuse the tension between you. âMh⊠I wanted to clear my head⊠my family uhâŠâ you paused. âThey can be overbearing during the full blood moon⊠yâknow since I⊠havenât turned and all'' Isagi felt like he was prying now, he felt bad for asking.
âHeh⊠I guess they donât have to worry about that anymore thoughâ you say, trying to keep the conversation as light as possible. âWhat about you? Why are you all the way out here?â you return the question.
âI dunnoâ intuition I supposeâ he replied, perhaps a little way too honestly than he wouldâve liked; before he could take back what he said, he heard you giggle. God, you sound cute when you laugh.
âIâm glad you followed your intuition⊠who knows what wouldâve happened to me if you werenât here to helpâ you feel him stiffen when you lay your head on his shoulder. If you were fully aware youâd probably pull back and apologize, but right now you were way too tired to even notice. Before you knew it, you closed your eyes and fell asleep again.
The sleeping stardust mustâve not worn out yet, Isagi thought. So he let you sleep beside him as he waited for the rain to stop.
He prays that the rain will stop before everyone wakes up. Otherwise, he might end up getting called to the principalâs office for coming out from the forest in the early mornings carrying a naked student in his arms. That would be a difficult situation to explain.
[âč SUMMARY âș] isagi is usually really soft with you, until after a big win and heâs worked up on adrenaline!
[âč MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS âș]
afab!reader, all chars are 18+, pussy drunk!isagi, rough sex, praise, some begging, pet name [baby], creampie
when you ask isagi how his game went as he stumbles into the apartment all sweaty and grinning, his groping hands and his lips messily clashing with yours is enough of an answer.
âmmph- won,â he mumbles between kisses, hands pawing at your waist and flitting through your hair as his tongue glides against yours in a panted frenzy. âgot two goals⊠missed you, wish you were hah- there to seeâŠâ
you can tell isagiâs worked up by the way heâs practically pushing you onto the couch, toppling over your frame to treat you the way heâs been wanting to for hours now.
a gasp is pulled from your chest as he nips and sucks at the crook of your neck, his hips dragging in slow grinds against your shorts with his heavy bulge letting you know just how much he missed you.
âmm- canât resist you right now,â isagi groans softly as his hands work to slip your shorts and panties off of your hips, his lips connecting with yours through shallow pants and soft moans. âso pent up it hurtsâŠâ
âthen use me to get it out,â you murmur back softly, and he swears that time just froze. his cock twitches in his shorts, taut and pressing hard against the fabric at your pretty plead. âlemme help youâŠâ
the room spins in isagiâs head as he rushes to slip his waistband down, pulling your hips flush against his. âgod- might get a lil rough, baby. sorryâŠâ
isagi grunts out softly as he slips the head of his cock between your walls, the slick feeling overwhelming him enough that he thinks he might just cum right then and there. his veins bulge against his forearms as his fingers dig into your waist, a sharp inhale escaping him as he bottoms out.
âfuck- guess the game got me worked up,â isagi moans out softly, slowly dragging his cock in and out with languid movements. âfeels so good, donât think i can hold back much longerâŠâ
âsâ okay,â you whine out against his lips, admiring the dark, murky lust glimmering in his eyes. âi can take itâŠâ
as if those words were the knife that cut through the last thread of his resolve, he canât help but just crack.
âshit, shit, shit, fuck,â isagi grunts out in succession with each wet smack, hands gripping your waist roughly as his hips rut into your slick pussy. âyou proud of me, baby? for scoring all those goals?â
âmm- yes, s-so proud of you yâichi,â you whimper out the words between shaky gasps, and you swear his cock throbs inside of you at the praise. you mumble out mindlessly, âdid so good⊠doing so goodâŠâ
âhah- yeah?â isagi groans, hips smacking faster against yours in mind-boggling thrusts. his lip is caught between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed and face tense as he fervently chases the euphoric pleasure starting to twitch in his cock. âgod- gonna make me cum when you feel this good.â
âlemme have it,â you whine and flitter your hands through his hair, grasping the locks and moaning at every pressured shock of pleasure jolting through your body.
âoh, shit,â isagi fucks into you sloppily, wet slaps and grunts pervading through heavy air of the apartment. the pent up adrenaline sears through his skin and makes his cock feel so tight with every quick drag, his hips stuttering as he rocks his body against you. âmmph- gonna cum soon, you gonna take it?â
âyeah, yeah,â you moan out shallowly, chest rising and falling quickly with each pant he draws out of your body. âgâna take it allâŠâ
âmm- fuck, so good to me, baby,â isagi shudders, cock twitching and his quick breaths turning ragged as he digs his fingers into your waist tighter. his jaw hangs open as a voice cracking moan leaves his lips, hips flushed against yours as ribbons of white spill between your walls.
he rocks his hips into you a few times as he catches his breath, face flushed and euphoria throbbing in his body.
âguess this is my reward for those goals,â isagi sighs out heavily, lips connecting with yours as exhaustion wracks his limbs. âgâna score a lot more so i can come back to this againâŠâ
summary: he never would have imagined that finding a love letter on his daughter's desk could lead to the spiral of insanity that it did.
a/n: you have most likely already read this post before. that is because my account was deleted before and i need to repost everything if you guys ever want to read this again. this is one of the few imagines that i didn't want to edit. honestly, it was my most popular post before for a reason. it's a fun read. interactions on this post would be greatly appreciated, especially comments.
reminder that requests are open on this blog because i have an empty inbox. and if you like demon slayer, check out my side-blog @katwatcheskny where requests are also open.
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Every time I turn a corner, I hope I bump into you. Doesnât matter where; Iâm just always hoping I get to see you even if itâs only for a few seconds.
This was the first letter Aizawa had seen.Â
(Y/N) was exhausted and had fallen asleep while studying. He noticed her lights were still on when he opened the door to say goodnight before leaving for his nighttime patrol, he found her face down in a textbook at her desk. He almost laughed at how much she still looked like a little kid when she was like this. He carefully picked her up and laid her down into her bed, listening to her babble nonsense as she cuddled into her pillow.
When he went back to her desk to turn off the lamp, thatâs when he noticed among her English textbooks was a pink piece of paper that stood out prominently amongst the other white sheets. Aizawa had never been the type of parent who invaded his daughterâs privacy, he was the cool laid-back dad who she felt comfortable enough to talk to. But he found himself overtaken by curiosity of this pink sheet, so he sneaked a peak.Â
He was surprised, his daughter had received a love letter.
He searched the page for a name, but there wasnât one to be found. His daughter had a secret admirer. But he didnât have enough time to process how someone was secretly pining for his daughter before he needed to leave.
Aizawa carefully laid the note back where he had found it, careful to make sure (Y/N) didnât know that he had invaded her privacy. He looked at her and saw the five year old girl he had adopted ten years ago, as he softly rubbed her head.
The next day, as he crawled to class in his sleeping bag, he still thought about that pink sheet of paper. It was such a juvenile thing that he had long forgotten about from his own teenage years, people giving and receiving love letters. He had received a Valentineâs Day one from Ms. Jokes but he didnât take it seriously, it was just riddled with bad puns. But this one was different.
In the teacherâs lounge, where he would usually try to sneak in a nap between lessons, he instead found himself still thinking of this letter when Present Mic decided to saunter over, noticing the distress his friend was in.
âHEY, ERASER!â he began, his obnoxiously loud voice ruining any chance for him to get any extra sleep. âWhatâs got you making that serious face?!â
He shuffled over for Yamada to plop down beside him. Aizawa knew he shouldnât say anything, it was no oneâs business what letters you received so long as they were appropriate. But Yamada had never just been anyone. He was his close friend since high school and he had helped him with (Y/N) whether it was babysitting or advice (which was never useful, but appreciated).
That and Aizawa needed someone to talk about this letter with, and this morning when he had asked (Y/N) if something had happened at school and she just shrugged and said nothing interesting. He thought having a secret admirer would qualify as something interesting, so you were clearly withholding the truth from him and he needed consultation to know whether he should be worried or not. Even if the best he could get was a childless thirty year old wearing all leather with hair big enough to make a cockatoo jealous.
âI found a note from a secret admirer in (Y/N)âs room last night,â he answered, as Yamada gasped in predictable shock.
âSomeone broke into (Y/N)âs room?!â he exclaimed.
âNo,â Aizawa replied, his stern face annoyed at the implication he would ever let someone break into his daughterâs room. âShe must have gotten it at school and then left it on her desk. There was no name on it, though.â
âOh,â Yamada exhaled, gripping his heart dramatically. âDonât worry about me like that. I was worried our precious little (Y/N) was being stalked.â Once he had calmed down more, he turned to the black-haired male with a cheeky grin, âwhatâs the big issue then?â
âWerenât you listening?â Aizawa asked.
âCome on, (Y/N)âs a pretty girl, it was only natural she was going to attract many suitors,â he shrugged, annoying Aizawa greatly. This was the moment Present Mic decided to be calm and rational, he had to admit there was a part of him hoping Yamada would overreact and he would know he wasnât the crazy one for being worried. âWhat did it say?â
âNothing scandalous, it was just about how they want to see her face whenever they're in the hallway,â Aizawa responded.Â
âOh, young love!â Midnight exclaimed, actually shaking with excitement. The two turned to face their coworker who had been doing her best to pretend like she wasnât paying attention, but she couldnât help herself after the mentions of secret love letters that caught her attention. She grinned at the two, âsounds like something from a great love story for the lovely (Y/N) Aizawa.â
Aizawa narrowed his eyes at her statement. (Y/N) was too young to have some great love story, he hadnât even had a great love story.Â
âI wonder which boy has the yearning heart,â Midnight mused, clearly still enjoying herself with this whole incident that was not supposed to be some kind of twisted enjoyment for his coworkers while Aizawa was trying to process the whole letter. âPerhaps a classmate who admired her intelligence and cooperativeness, or one of your students attracted to the scandal.â
âWhat ''scandalâ?â he asked, regretting it immediately.
âDating your teacherâs daughter, the attraction to the forbidden,â she answered.
Aizawa found himself cringing, âsounds more like a nightmare.â
âBesides, I doubt anyone would actively want to date (Y/N) because of who her father is, heâs not exactly father-in-law material!â Yamada interjected, clearly missing the point Aizawa was going for. âItâs probably one of her classmates that sees her cute face all day but was too intimidated to speak up!â
Trying his best to wiggle away while Present Mic and Midnight continued to discuss who they think could have written it, he slid off the couch and made his way back to his classroom with his sleeping bag over his shoulder. He had been contemplating what they had said.Â
(Y/N) was pretty and admirable, he shouldnât have been surprised sheâd be the kind of girl that boys would send love letters to. But he never imagined sheâd be the kind of daughter who would keep this secret from him.Â
Or perhaps he was simply overthinking. Everything about parenting was new to him with (Y/N). It was easy to take Eri in after having raised (Y/N) when she was that age, but he had never been a parent to a teenager. Maybe he was expecting too much from her. He thought he was lucky and she skipped over the teenage angst years where she would start to hate him and want to rebel. Maybe secrets were just something they have now.
Either way, it was extremely exhausting.
He wanted to be able to be the laid-back father who simply accepted this new chapter of life and be able to continue with his own, but now he felt like an overbearing mother, secretly looking for her face in the hallway. Looking for what boys were looking at her, which ones could have written her the note.Â
He pinched the bridge of his nose, he needed a nap.
I wanna lay next to you and listen to the beat of your heart. I wanna close my eyes and fall asleep in your arms. I wanna feel you and just forget the world.
There had been a second love letter.
He was about to leave his classroom when he noticed (Y/N) leaving class late and alone with another pink paper in her hand. He hid and stared at the crack between the door, and watched as she carefully left down the hallway, hiding the paper in her bag. So whoever was leaving this letters was putting them in her bag rather than her shoe locker. Which meant it had to be someone with access to the classroom and it had to be between lunch and when school ends for her to only be putting it away now.
He was definitely wasting too much of his analytical and observation skills on this. But that wouldnât be his biggest crime of the night.
`When he got home before he would have to leave for patrol, while she was playing with Eri in her bedroom, he took the chance to sneak into (Y/N)âs room.
Aizawa walked over to her desk again, looking around but it wasnât where he had found the note innocently sitting out for him to see days prior. That should have been enough for him to leave. It was none of his business what the letter said. The first time he defended himself with her own thoughtlessness leaving notes lying around for anyone else to read.
But now he was rummaging through her school bag quickly, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasnât caught in the act. He doesnât think he would ever live down the embarrassment of being the type of person who acted so crazily over a love letter. That and (Y/N) would never trust him again.
Soon he found the letter and read it in detail.
He felt himself shudder at the words. While there was nothing particularly explicit about them, he wanted to choke out whoever sent this to his daughter. He supposed someone could find it romantic to know someone was pining after them with such poetic and vulnerable language, it was just Aizawa homicidal.
Perhaps he was getting too worked up over these love letters. But there was no going back, he had already overstepped one boundary when reading the first letter, then with telling his co-workers who kept talking about potential romantic interests for (Y/N), and now a big one when he started snooping through her private belongings. What was wrong with him?
Doing his best to return everything into its proper place, he quickly took a picture of the letter and the handwriting present. If Midnight was right and it had been one of his students who wrote that letter, then their handwriting would match.Â
Aizawa quickly slipped out of the room and walked over to Eriâs, where (Y/N) was seated on the floor playing with dolls with his adoptive sister. Memories flooded back to when he first got (Y/N) and he tried overcompensating for his lackluster parenting skills with dolls and other girly items. In the end, she enjoyed the cat plushie he had first bought her more, and still keeps it on her bed to this day.
âAre you heading out already, dad?â (Y/N) asked, looking up from the small girl to her father who was watching them with uncharacteristically wistful eyes.
Snapping back to reality, he nodded while walking over and bending his knees to pat the tops of both (Y/N) and Eriâs heads. âTen more minutes of play and then itâs off to bed with the both of you. I hope you did your homework, (Y/N).â
âAlways do,â she beamed.
As he moved to leave the room, he paused at the door frame before turning back to look at his daughter who was back to looking at the doll in her hand while Eri was giving a little wave goodbye. Another flash to her younger figure holding a doll in their first home. âDid anything interesting happen today, anything you want to talk about?â He asked again.
(Y/N) turned and met his gaze with a stoic expression, but something in her eyes looked like she was pondering her response. âNo, not really.â
âOkay then.â
The next day in class, while the class was talking amongst themselves before homeroom began, Aizawa found himself glaring at them. Unlike the usual glaring he gave them to be quiet, this time he was looking around the room at all their faces and trying to come up with a list of potential culprits.Â
It was easy to eliminate some characters from who could have sent the letters. The spelling was too good to be Kaminari, too sweet for Bakugo, too emotionally vulnerable for Todoroki, too bold for Midoriya, penmanship too good for Kirishima, too innocent for Mineta, not straightforward enough for Iida, and too lacking in sparkles for Aoyama. Slowly one by one he started creating a hierarchy of most likely to least likely, but only the comparison would show.
His most likely became a strange list, with Tokoyami becoming one of the most likely due to his more poetic nature compared to the rest of the class.Â
Once homeroom was over, he left to find the files from their midterms and compared each student to the handwriting from the second letter.
âERASER HOW YO~! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!â Yamada screamed as he entered the office, earning a glare from Aizawa before he quickly lowered his head and continued to examine the papers and his phone.
âWhat does it look like Iâm doing?â He barked.
âHaving a third-life crisis,â he responded, walking over to see exactly what he was doing, which did not make the situation any better.Â
Someone who didnât know Aizawa or the situation would assume he was stealing test answers or intellectual property of the students, instead of a desperate father trying to intercede in his daughterâs love life. Which was either worse or better depending on the person. To Present Mic, it was hilarious.
âAre you really getting this worked up over a note?â
ââŠthere was a second.â
âA SECOND! LEMME SEE!â he demanded, reaching out for the phone, which he managed to snatch away quickly.Â
While he was the cool uncle to (Y/N) since she was a little girl and she had been long coming to him as a second parent, he didnât have any problem getting in the middle of this. Hell, he had been her advocate during Aizawaâs continuous descent into madness over the little pink paper.Â
He started to laugh, âwhoever wrote this was bold and smooth. If I got a note from someone in high school like this, I wouldâve been theirs in a second.â
âNot helping,â Aizawa sniped, taking back the phone to continue.
âNot trying to,â Yamada retorted, âI want no part of this obsessive behavior unless itâs watching and making commentary, because you are losing it and itâs actually cute to watch you get so worked up like this.â
Aizawa growled in response as he looked at the final paper.Â
Not a single match.
And for the first time ever Hizashi Yamada was right.Â
Whoever was (Y/N)âs secret admirer had to be in Class 1B. He guessed that made sense, seeing someone everyday and developing feelings for them gradually over time. But it would make it even harder to know which boy it could be. Unlike his class, he couldnât check all their handwriting and he didnât know them enough personally to make an educated guess about the admirerâŠ
Suddenly his mind was racing with ways he could convince Vlad King to give him access to any written fills in his class, just enough writing from each student he could analyze their handwriting. Perhaps bump into him when he was holding his paperwork, and when he dropped it, he would switch it out with fakes. Or have someone or something distract him while he goes through the papers on his desk, Mic could be a good distraction, he never shuts up.Â
Then he realized he was scheming on how to out a teenagers crush.
Yamada was right twice now, he was getting too obsessed over these letters. This must have been the end of the world or he really was crazy.
âHow come you never write me letters like this?â Yamada asked.
He glared at him, closing the file and putting it away.
âWhoever wrote this isnât just feeling puppy love or good fashioned teen hormonal horniness, this is full of mature infatuation,â Yamada commented.
Aizawa clenched his jaw and began grinding his teeth, activating his quirk out of frustration hoping to silence Yamada. âReallyâŠnotâŠhelpingâŠâ
âLook on the bright side, whoever wrote this isnât some shallow guy who only likes her because sheâs pretty and is going to break her heart after a few days or when the next pretty girl comes along. Maybe this is going to be something great for (Y/N),â he explained, getting awfully sage in his tone as he continued. Even Aizawa was actually interested in what he had to say.
âSince when did you start making good points?â Aizawa groaned.
âI know, right?!â Yamada gleefully enthused, seeming surprised as well. âUsually youâre the one in the right. I guess when you started acting like the crazy one, I had to become the rational one to balance it out.â
âWell thanks for the advice,â Aizawa stoically nodded, leaving the office, residual shame at his actions was still clouding him as he pondered climbing back into his sleeping bag between classes.
I want you to be mine. Selfishly, thoughtlessly, mine. Because how can you be just friends with someone who you want to kiss all the time?
(Y/N)âs grip tightened on the third letter she had received, it was after lunch and she had been busy in the cafeteria with Kendo, Kodai, and Pony. The previous days she had tried to eat in her classroom to see who was putting these notes on her desk, but whenever she tried, there would never be anyone coming to the classroom. So she decided to wait until the letter was already there.
Looking down at this latest desk, covertly reading it while they had a mathematics class, she found her face turning bright red. It was the most straightforward in progressively more bold love letters. However she found herself increasingly endeared to them. This one had her feeling a bit giddy.
However not as giddy as she felt when she flipped the note over.
Meet me on the roof after school is over.
Stuffing the note into the back of her book, she struggled to hide how bashful she was for the rest of the class, being easily distracted and flustered whenever someone spoke to her. All she could do was wait for school to be over so she could run up to the roof and meet with her secret admirer.
She didnât know what she was expecting. She knew what she was hoping for once she stepped onto the roof. She had dreamed about it for a while, and when she got the first letter she had fallen asleep to dreams of her crush being her admirer, but she didnât want to get too worked up. But (Y/N) couldnât help but be a bit hopeful when she was looking at the note.
She hadnât shared the notes with anyone but Kendo. She was the class representative and like a big sister to the whole class, so she knew she was going to give her the best advice. Kendo was excited about the notes and they quickly started to rank which boys it could or couldnât be.
Kendoâs first idea was Tetsutetsu because of how friendly he was to (Y/N), despite how friendly he always was- she knew it couldnât be him because he clearly had a crush on Kendo that she was completely oblivious to.Â
Awase, Kuroiro, Tsuburaba, and Honenuki were all names she had thrown around, but (Y/N) was unsure if she was close enough with any of them for them to have developed as intense as the ones present in the notes.Â
Thatâs when the suggestion of Monoma came up. The two interacted regularly, he wasnât exactly someone you could easily ignore. Mainly because he refused to let anyone. He was just intense enough to send these messages despite their friendship seeming only platonic. Hell, she might have even considered it if it didnât mean sheâd have to constantly hear him mock 1A because of her father. She already had to deal with that enough as his classmate.
Once the bell rang dismissing classes, she almost jumped out of her seat out of pure nerves. However she tried to do her best to compose herself.Â
As she said goodbye to her friends and the classroom became more empty, she gave her secret admirer a minute or two to find their way to the roof and the hallways to clear out before she exited her class, the note flat against her chest.
â(Y/N),â a voice spoke up. She turned and saw her father.
âOh. Hey, dad,â she greeted, rubbing the back of her head as she tried to hide the note behind her. However, he had clearly noticed it, but unbeknownst to her he knew it had to be another love letter from her secret admirer. However he did his best to compose himself after his little incident of insanity.
âIs everything okay?â he asked, âanything interesting happening?â
âNo,â she dismissed, âwhy you ask?â
He exhaled, lowering his head a bit. âI donât know, I just think the older you get the less you need me. Like youâre becoming completely independent. Iâm just thinking about how in three years youâll be an adult and Iâll just be the weird thirty-three year old guy you call once a year on Christmas.â
Her eyes widened and she bit her lip, what was getting into her father? What had she done that would give him that impression.
âWhy are you acting so crazy, dad? Iâm never going to be too old for you to be my dad,â she stated, conviction present in her voice and the note almost completely in the back of her mind now. âIâm not gonna lie and pretend like Iâm not going to get more mature, and yeah we might not be as close as I was when I was five, but now we can look forward to other things.â
âLike what?â he asked.
âI donât know,â she shrugged, âwe can watch more mature films together to feel intellectual before switching back to Barbie and The Fairy Secret for the millionth time, or when I turn twenty we can have my first drink together, or when I get married youâll walk me down the aisle and give me away.â
Aizawa couldnât help but find himself grinning. He had never considered him as much of a parental figure before, but god did love his girls. And (Y/N) was actually breaking his heart with how sweet she was being. He walked over and pulled her into an embrace, she quickly wrapped her arms around him, careful to keep the note out of his view.Â
âHow did you get to be such a great kid?â he jokingly questioned.
She chuckled, âyou did a moderately good job.â
He patted the back of her head, Aizawa felt like he was finally coming to terms with how much his daughter had grown up. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead which made her giggle. âOkay, letâs head home.â
âUmm,â she mumbled, pulling away again, her grip tightening on the letter. Her mind was racing for a convincing lie. âI actually got to meet with a teacher about something first, but Iâll see you soon, promise it wonât take long.â
He had to stop himself from asking a follow-up question. He had a sneaking suspicion she was lying (because she sucked at lying) but he couldnât call her out without admitting he had read her other notes and knew that whatever she was planning to do had something to do with this newest note. So he used all of his self control to force a smile for her and nod.
âOkay,â he replied.
âSee ya,â she announced, slowly walking down the hall while he watched.
Despite feeling a constriction in his heart over watching her leave with that love letter in her hand, every paternal instinct screaming at him to follow her and forbid her from dating boys while she was still living under his roof, but he wanted to put an end to these obsessive tendencies. Aizawa trusted his daughterâs judgment, she had become much wiser than he expected.
âWHY THE HELL ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE! WEâVE GOT TO FOLLOW HER!â Mic screamed, causing Aizawa to turn and see his friend and Midnight having been watching the entire encounter.Â
âI thought you told me to just let it be?â Aizawa countered.
âYeah but now that you're back to being rational, I have to be the dramatic one, we have to go and protect our baby before something happens!â
âWhat about you?â
âThe chance to see a new romance blossom or a young heart be crushed is too exhilarating to miss out on witnessing!â Midnight explained.
Before they knew it, they had followed (Y/N) in an almost too obvious manner that made Aizawa believe either she knew and said nothing or she was denser than a stone wall. Soon the three were all peeping through the open door on the roof of the UA building, with their heads stacked on top of each other to all get a peep.Â
A crusty guy with a sleeping bag, a dominatrix, and a guy in full leather watching a teenage girl waiting for her secret admirer. If they didnât know her this would have been creepy. Actually- it was still creepy.
And sad.
It made him feel old.
(Y/N) was looking around frantically, she knew she was a bit late after waiting for all her classmates to leave but then speaking with her dad unexpectedly but she hoped he didnât think she wasnât coming. Then the terrible thought that this had all been some prank on her came to mind. Who could be so cruel?
âI was afraid you werenât going to show,â a voice spoke up, causing her head to jerk almost violently in anticipation. âI know the letters may have been a bit intense, I was scared I might have scared you away with how blunt they were.â
Shinso was rubbing the back of his neck as he walked over to (Y/N) who looked surprised. He felt a little embarrassed but relieved he hadnât been stood up.
âI liked that about them, they were honest and kind and poetic,â she lightly smiled looking down at the pink sheet, a small blush spread across her cheeks, âitâs what made me hope they were from you.â
He smirked, âI meant every word I wrote. I was afraid I wouldnât be able to get them out properly if I was looking you in the face. That something would come out wrong or I wouldnât get the point I was trying to make.â He moved closer, slowly closing the gap between them, and (Y/N) started to lean closer. âBut I really do want to be with you, (Y/N), and I really want to kiss you.â
Shinso carefully lifted out his hand to touch her shoulder, feeling her lean into his touch and the smile across her face was all the indication he needed to lean down and close the distance between the two of them, placing a chaste kiss on her gentle lips. Pulling away after a few seconds.
(Y/N) quickly placed her hand on his cheek and pulled the purple-haired male back in for a more passionate lip-lock. She could feel Shinso smirk against her lips as he reciprocated the kiss, his grip on her shoulder strengthened as he moved it down her back to pull her into an embrace.
As they pulled away for more air this time, he rested his forehead on hers, enjoying how close he could be to her now after months of pining.
âYou know Eraserhead, Present Mic, and Midnight are watching us?â He asked, looking past her head a bit to see the three watching from the door.
âYeah, they donât understand boundaries. You get used to it.â
Warnings: crack(?), swearing, mild innuendos, mentions of the reader having a mother that acts very much like the typical (Asian?) mom. For the record I'm Asian... pls don't come for me
A.N:Â Iâm on BNHA brainrot lately, so I puked this out in the midst of my finals.Â
⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . âŠ
You know how mothers wake up super early in the morning and start washing the dishes and cleaning the house super loudly? Banging the vacuum cleaner into every single nook and cranny in a passive-aggressive manner in an attempt to wake you up?
Well, thatâs how Katsuki is with you.
In your defense, you donât even wake up all that late. You may even consider yourself an early bird. Still, compared to someone who goes to bed at precisely 8 PM, he wakes up way before the sun even peeks over the horizon (but thatâs beside the point).
What you absolutely can NOT tolerate was that he would make it a mission to do all these menial tasks whilst being as deafening as possible like heâs got some kind of personal vendetta against you.
However, youâve always known him to be a rather loud and brass individual, so you don't put it against him at all at first. One night you did end up having trouble sleeping, so when the inevitable sound of pans clanging against each other invaded your slumber, you couldnât help but get a little irritatedâ regardless, you tried to keep a level-head, and told him to quiet down next time.
âThe neighbors might hear and complainâ you reasoned, to which he replied, in a classical Bakugou Katsuki fashion: âTo hell with the neighbors!âÂ
It still hadnât bothered you much at that point. Until it eventually dawned on you that he was doing it on purpose. You hadnât even noticed until you heard him muttering under his breath one time as he vacuumed the bedroom floor, practically ramming the end of it to the bedroom wall.
âI have to do EVERYTHING myself around hereâŠâ
Immediately, your eyes shot open. That attitude of his hit WAY too close to home for you to ignore.Â
It reminded you of how your mother would complain all day about how absolutely no one in the house would help her do the chores as she goes and cleans the house.Â
It reminded you of how sheâd wake up at the break of dawn every single day and FOR SOME REASON decided that the entire world needed to know what she was doing. She absolutely will NOT stop until every single person in the house is awakeâ neither will your Katsuki.
Suddenly all of his sour âFinally, youâre awakeâs make sense to you. The passive-aggressiveness was as clear as day now.
To say the least, this knowledge youâd just discovered left a bitter taste in your mouth. So, out of your own volition (and pettinessâŠ), you waited⊠and waited⊠until the clock struck 4, and outside, the sun has barely yet risen from the sky.
You start doing YOUR list of chores as loud as possible.Â
A mischievous smile stretched across your face when you hear the angry stomps coming down the stairs and finally into the kitchen of your shared apartment.
âJesus woman! Can you be any louder?! Have you any idea what time it is?!â
âOh finally youâre awakeâ you mock his tone of voice without batting an eye at him. âAre you being smart with me?â he retorted. And here you thought he couldnât sound more like a mother.
You couldâve sworn he sounded more like a mother than both your mothers combined.
âBaby, donât you have work early today?â you inquired innocently. âWhy donât you go back to sleep for a little bit? Breakfast would be ready by the time you get up, I promiseâ you finish sweetly, and you can see his anger melting away at the softness of your voice.
The moment wouldâve been tender if not for the fact that you were actively trying to give him a taste of his own medicine.
Katsuki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to contemplate your suggestion or to stay and say something elseâ he chose the latter.
âHow am I supposed to sleep when youâre being so goddamn loud?â normally heâd be a lot more livid, but youâve come to realize that the older he gets, the more he starts to mellow out⊠as mellow as Bakugou Katsuki can get at leastâŠ
Plus heâs had a very long day at work yesterday, not to mention he was held back for a while so he had to come home later than usual last night. It almost makes you feel guilty for doing this to him, but you were already far too deep to turn back now anyway and you needed to prove a point.
âI donât know⊠you tell me⊠how am I supposed to sleep when youâre being so loud every morning... mom?âÂ
Thatâs when it finally hit himâŠ
Perhaps you should count yourself lucky that you decided to do this on a day when heâs particularly worn out. Otherwise, he might just serve you up on a silver platter to eat for breakfast⊠and I donât mean that in a pleasant wayâ but regardless, you smile cheekily as you see the irritation grow within him.
âYou insufferable bratâŠâ he said, barely whispering. He took slow sluggish steps towards you before wrapping his arm around your middle and pulled you closer until your back presses flush against his sturdy front.
God, you simultaneously hate it and love it when he's tired.
On one hand you feel bad for him when he pushes himself to the point of exhaustion, on the other hand you love how much more cuddly and soft he becomes when he's tired.
âDid you really have to wake us up THIS early just to prove a point?â he asked, almost in disbelief. Your response to him was simple, short, and genuineâŠ
ââŠâ The Cute Barista Who Couldnât Get My Name Right ââŠâ
Synopsis: Imagine having Kuroo Tetsuro as your barista and he can never for the life of him get your name right⊠or perhaps he can, he just chose not to.
+ coffee shop AU, Barista!Kuroo, fluff, Kurooâs terrible at flirting
A.N: HQ season five when??
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When he calls for you, he wasnât calling your name. He was just shouting something that sounded close to your name.
It didnât help that the entire time he was looking straight at you with half-lidded eyes as if heâd done nothing wrong. You rose from your seat with lightning speed and rushed over to the dark-haired barista to grab your drink right out of his hands and thanked him before rushing to the exit.
âAnytime sweets, see you around!â you gave him an awkward smile, then finally walked out the door to make your way to your college campus.
You look at the name written across your coffee cup in bold black letters and you realize the attractive new barista hadnât only said your name wrong, but heâd also written your name incorrectly. A dreary sigh escapes you, but you let it slide.
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