Broken Wolf (Bakugou x wolf!reader)

Christmas Special

This is a short that isn't connected to the main story.

I always wanted to do a soulmate AU. So if you guys bare with me, I'm going to test out my skills with it with this special. And I know it's a little late, but I'm sure there are Christmas decorations still up in someone's house besides mine. There are no quirks in this and your old enough to be living on your own. I hope you guys like it. 🎅🏻☃️🌨❄️🎄

⚠️Fair warning, could be triggering to some people.

You shiver as you trudge through the snow, heading toward your small apartment building, the layers of coats doing nothing to keep the cold from nipping at you. Getting inside, you sigh in relief, knocking off the layer of snow that had was practically an outer layer at this point. Peeling off your coats, you hang them up onto the coat rack, pulling off your snow boots and long, thick pants you wore over you normal ones. It was a nice change to step into the warm room, walking over to you small kitchen and put the groceries on top of the counter.

You put your groceries away before going to your chair and sat down, pulling down your long sleeves to stare at the writing you had put on your skin. Nothing new, nothing that you didn't write, just your grocery list and the order you had to writ on your wrist since you ran out of paper. You knew it was stupid, thinking that someone would suddenly write on their arm to make your fears and doubts to go away. When you were younger, you had once found a small flower drawn onto your wrist, but as soon as you went to show your parents, it was gone, not even a smudge left.

They pushed it off as you wishing for a soulmate and that you had just mistaken something to be on your wrist. But you were positive that someone drew it, so you wrote on your arm, asking why they got rid of the flower. You continued to write questions on your arm for about three years, before you stopped and just used your skin for notes and reminders. You knew it would annoy whoever your soulmate was, if you really had one, so you continued to do it to spite them. But that small little flower was the only hint of a soulmate you had, but it went away so quick, that it was hard to tell if it was even real or some hopeful dream.

Your parents didn't have soulmates, they just meet and fell in love, with no force or pull, so everyone told you that you were going to be like them and not have a soulmate. That they had already died or that they don't care about someone who constantly scribbles on their arm. You sigh and look at your lonely, small Christmas tree, just a string of lights and cheap, plastic the only decorations. The only thing extraordinary about it was the priceless star that sat on top, pure crystal and a family heirloom. Your Mom had wanted to throw it out when you still lived with her, but were able to save it, the memories of past Christmases seeming to dance in its artificial light.

You smile as your childhood swam past in a lazy flow, allowing you to enjoy the memories of excitement and laughter. The pure joy you had when you opened your presents, and the smell of breakfast swirling all in your mind. A buzz from your pocket brought you back, pulling out your phone to find a text from your Mom, your heart sinking as you read it.

I'm sorry sweetie. The flights had been canceled due to snow. A new flight won't be open until four days after Christmas. We'll be there for New Years though.

You look at your tree again, it hitting you hard that your going to be alone this Christmas, but you tried to cheer up. It's not for another two days. Something is sure to happen by then... right?

The cafe you worked in was pretty busy this morning, people wanting something to warm them up after trudging through the snow to get to places. Snow plows were having a hard time trying to control the snow that continued to cover the roads with fresh, soft, cold layers. You were working with only one other person, both of you keeping to your respected stations, your practice smile greeting the next customer. Writing their order on your arm, more out of habit now, and your coworker has all of the order slips, you glance over it, hoping to find some sort of new writing, out of pure habit than anything.