(Dont) Let Me Be The Judge Of That

(Don’t) Let me be the judge of that

a/n: enemies to lovers w Osamu. Nothing more to say.

genre: mostly fluff, enemies to lovers au, fem!reader

warnings: Osamu being an ass in the beginning, swearing, mentions of social anxiety, 5.6k

《Synopsis: Osamu Miya is too judgemental for his own good, never accepting he’s simply wrong. You’re here to change that.》

Osamu Miya had a habit of judging people. It would take him one look and a few seconds to decide whether he liked someone or not, the answer often being the latter. But the worst part was just how stubborn and maybe a bit self-centered Osamu was. He trusted himself a little too much, and it was impossible to change his opinion of someone after he had made up his mind, and if he didn’t like someone, that was it, he would never grow to like them.

Or so everyone -including Osamu himself- thought until you entered his life.

~

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This is so beautiful I can't even- just read it.

it’s unexpected. uncalled for, really.

the last thing he expected when he came to you—eyes dulled behind smudged glass, crease between his eyebrows barely prominent, lips pulled taut ever so slightly—was for you to deny him entry through your doorway. granted, it was somewhere near midnight when he texted you, a few minutes shy of thirty past when he knocked on your door, but you had assured him it was okay. the grueling hours it took to get himself there in front of you are swiftly chipped away with each second of silent staring—why were you staring?—and he finds humility, worn and weary, standing on his doorstep. there he waits, bitter wind nipping at his ears, impending frown colored yellow by a nearby lightbulb, thoughts tinged with looming regret, until you pull him back—or forward, actually. you pull him to you, squeezing as if it were of utmost importance, as if something terrible would happen if you waited just a second longer. and he lets you, of course; tsukishima was never one for unnecessary questions.

unnecessary.

that’s what it is.

this—this desperation, this warmth, this compassion—it’s unnecessary. for him. for someone so uncaring, detached, empty—

you sniffle.

he sucks in a breath, frozen.

yet through the ice of lost sensibility he feels:

a lump in his throat; the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears; the stinging cold burning his eyes.

he doesn’t want to think about it.

what he would do without this, without you.

why?

because it’s unnecessary.

he removes his hands from the safety of his pockets, clutching at the material of your sweater and nuzzling into the crook of your neck as if there were nowhere else he’d rather be. nowhere else he could be.

there is nowhere else.

slowly, he closes his eyes.

he breathes.

and everything falls.

in the dead of winter there is warmth

part one of this collection of drabbles

thank you @snoozless & @querenciaas for beta reading <3

It's on my Navi but I'll still announce it here too, I'm on a hiatus for 3 weeks, so I apologize for the inactivity from advance. See you in 3 weeks!!

Seven stages of falling in love.

Synopsis: You’re afraid of needles and Bakugou is not the most suitable person that should be handling your shots for seven days.

Pairing: bakugou x reader

Warnings: cursing, I have no idea how long it is since it’s written on my phone this time, probably a lot of errors

Genre: fluff, some tiny bit angst but a happy ending so no worries

A/N: I was on a 9-hour road trip and wrote this to keep me sane.

BTW 50 followers yaay!

Day 1

“What do you mean I need to get antibiotic shots for a week?!” You exclaimed, refusing to believe what you just heard. It was just a sore throat, or so you had thought. You never liked doctors, so you rarely saw one, but when your ‘sore throat’ lasted for a whole month, your friends literally forced you to go see one.

You knew it wasn’t anything important, but maybe it would help to get a home rest for a day or two, giving you a little more time to binge anime study for that one exam that was coming up.

All your hopes and dreams died when you;

a) didn’t get to have any home rest, cause apparently, you didn’t have to stay home for a sore throat,

b) had to get shots for a week?!

This was why you hated doctors! You went in for a sore throat, hoping to get a home rest, and got what? A week of-

“It means what I just said.” The doctor answered your question gruffly, making you send him a questioning look. Weren’t the doctors supposed to be all nice and smiley? This one sure wasn’t.

“I don’t want to!” You whined, “Isn’t there a pill or something I could take?” He sent you a look that could only mean, are you dumb or something?

But you couldn’t care less about what he thought about you, though he was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen, all you were thinking about was doing whatever you could to not get any shots. “Is there no other way?” You asked, once again. This caused him to sigh loudly, turning his red eyes once again on you.

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As soon as I'm out of this hiatus I'm writing brother's best friend au with suna and no one can stop me.

I’ll See You, Even If I Close My Eyes

Synopsis: "I know who you are.“ You whispered, your eyes still closed.

 "Open your eyes, then. Open your eyes, look at me and tell me you don’t hate me.”

Genre: enemies to lovers (is that even a surprise at this point?), i feel like it’s a bit angsty but it wasn’t meant to be, a happy ending, fluff

Warnings: Shinsou is really mean in the beginning of this for the story purposes but I kept it short) some cursing, insecurities, mentions of social anxiety also its like 5.6k I think so that’s that

pairing: Pianist!Shinsou x fem!Reader

It was late in the night when you first heard it. The music coming from downstairs, a piano piece that enhanced and pulled you to it the moment you heard it. 

Running down the stairs as fast and quiet as you could, you rushed to the living room in the grand piano stood. You didn’t know anyone who played the piano in your class, and you desperately wanted to know who this music belonged to.

It was such a soft melody, so sad and almost dark, it sent chills down your spine. The piece wasn’t familiar, though what enchanted you so wasn’t the song but the way the pianist had delivered it, instead. 

You made it to the room, chest heaving from running so fast. It was ice cold downstairs, realizing it was because all the windows were open, making the whole room smell like the deep night and mist, although as you reached to the piano, you noticed the faint smell of lavender, as well.

You hid behind the cupboard when you reached the room, taking a peek inside to see the pianist, brows furrowing when you couldn’t. The tulle curtains dancing with the harsh wind, it was concealing the pianist professionally, only making you able to see the silhouette.

It was a man’s silhouette, you could tell that. You looked at his back, hovering over the black and white tiles of the piano, his broad shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly. You weren’t aware you had started to walk towards him, getting out of your hiding place.

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