Lev: YN! YN! I Saw A Yakt Yesterday!

When He’s Sick

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: too tired to write anymore. Hope you like it!

Word count: 653

Kageyama Tobio: 

“Don’t touch me.”

“I said don’t fucking touch me. I’m not sick.”

Absolutely tries to bury you six feet under with his glare anytime you come close with the cold cloth

Is the type to wrap up in blankets when and only when others aren’t around

Instantly tears them off the second you come back into the room and severely regrets this afterwards

Never, and I mean never, lets you feed him. Sorry.

Medicine is the one thing he’s willing to depend on you for, and because he’s such a pain in the ass when he’s sick, you make the best of it--

By proceeding to buy the most disgusting-flavored liquid medicine and turning a blind eye toward the pills he’d specifically requested. 

“They were out.” “How could they have run out? It’s literally just-” “Shut up, I said they ran out.”

Tries to hide his gag when he chokes down the medicine. 

A few hours later he’s so delirious from the medicine and the fever that he finally lets you baby him a little bit. You bury him in a mountain of blankets, press a cold cloth to his forehead, and kiss his cheek. 

“Cuddle me,” he murmurs, cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded. 

He’snevergonnarememberthissofuckinggetitwhileyoucan you do as he asks

Next day he wakes up feeling better than ever, but you’ve started sniffling and coughing. 

“I told you not to touch me, dumbass.”

He takes care of you too.

Tendou Satori:

The sweetest, most obedient person you’ve ever seen. An absolute doll.

Just. Fucking. Kidding. 

“YN, get me this.”

“YN, get me that.”

The ultimate whining brat. 

I’m talking never shuts up, even when he’s ready to be knocked out on cold medicine. 

Will literally stop in the middle of a coughing fit to beg you for something. 

The king of “but I’m sick” 🥺🥺

At first you were really worried, wanting to help him get over the cold so he wouldn’t have to miss his next game. 

Now you’re wondering whether or not to just drive home and block his number for the next few days. 

Even when you go home for the night he texts you, asking for something or other. He wants you to buy him snacks or make him food or grab him a glass of water even though you’re not at his house. 

Let’s be honest, he’s absolutely thriving under your attention. He grabs your hand as you walk past his reclined position on the couch and drags you down next to him, muttering something about how scalp massages are supposed to help cure colds while he pulls your hand to his hair.

Won’t eat anything unless you’re feeding it to him. 

His inner five-year-old is finally coming out and you think he’s not gonna ask you to tuck him in? smh where have you even been this entire time

Finally, the charade ends when you burn your hand making him hot soup. 

The scalding liquid splashes up onto the back of your hand and the second you cry out Tendou is up and on his feet, sprinting into the kitchen and practically tripping over his own long legs as he slides to a stop in front of you. 

Assessing your furrowed brows and the way you cradle your hand, he grabs the cold cloth still stuck to his head before coaxing your hand away from your chest. He clicks his tongue as he wraps the wet fabric around your palm, running a thumb along your knuckles before raising his eyes to meet yours. 

“Better?” he whispers, pressing his lips to the backs of your fingers. 

“Much,” you smile, “but I don’t think I’m gonna be able to take care of you anymore.”

“Ahh, well then what’s the point of putting my thermometer under hot water anymore?”

“What?!”

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

How They Kiss *Captain Edition* (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Just a short little thing cuz I was feeling big brained. Enjoy!

Word count: 2005

Oikawa Tooru:

On the average day, I think he kisses with a smugness often found in the form of a curled lip. He likes the idea that he has you, and that he knows you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. 

His lips are always soft, smooth with the chapstick he always keeps handy. Most likely cherry-flavored because he likes the slightest pink tint it provides.

Normally, his hands are in your hair. Oikawa likes combing through your strands, almost as if to encourage you to do the same. 

Yes, he adores it when you comb through his hair. Tug on it or just brush through it, whatever you gotta do to give his scalp those eye-rolling sensations. 

The first kiss is never the last, and it’s rarely the highlight of the show. The second kiss is much more wanton; he forces as much passion in it as he can, whenever, wherever.

You’re never the one to open your eyes first; Oikawa prides himself in blowing your mind with a kiss that takes you a moment to process it. Not only that, but he also likes to see the little dazed smile you wear afterwards. No matter how hard it is, he will always force his eyes open just to see your face.

Bokuto Koutarou:

Oftentimes, Bokuto’s kisses are always giddy and filled with smiles. Usually, it’s after a game or a practice. While Oikawa uses kisses for pleasure, the Fukurodani captain uses kisses as greetings. 

It shouldn’t surprise you that you accidentally crash your teeth together or bump each other’s noses from time to time. The pain’s never worth thinking about for long, because as soon as you two find your groove, you’re off to the races. 

Bokuto’s not afraid to be touchy-feely, and God does he love feeling you. His hands will wander for a split second, but, after a few seconds, they always find home on your butt. 

He likes your hands against his chest. It feels like he’s surprised you with the kiss. You usually throw your hands up against his chest to cushion the blow when his lips land on yours, and it works about half the time. 

After a kiss, he separates only to litter your face with small pecks, eating up the little giggle you give off. 

When you guys are at that stage, after every kiss will come along a small “I love you,” said with glowing eyes that deliver the emotions Bokuto couldn’t communicate with words. 

His kisses are always rushed, not too much, but enough to frustrate you when it steals your breath away all too suddenly. His lips are only chapped because he licks them too much in excitement; it’s just another little perk of his you love. 

Terushima Yuuji:

Terushima likes to kiss you whenever he can. He’s got a wide array of kisses, but the one you receive most is heated, and of course a little tongue is mixed in. 

He’s a very optimistic guy, but he can become serious when it’s necessary. Thus, I think his kisses always start with a little “hello” as he presses his forehead against yours, then he waits for you to lean in before he dips his head and responds. There’s the slightest hint of a smile on his face when you two kiss, but it slips away the more intense it becomes. 

Suddenly, it’s heavy breathing as he cups your face, pulling you closer and not wanting to let go. His tongue asks for permission about fifty percent of the time at this point in your relationship, only because he knows that he can drive you up the walls with that piercing of his. 

Your hands fall to his waist, where they clench and unclench depending on how out of breath you are. That one pesky strand of hair on his forehead tickles your own, but you’ve grown to ignore it. 

Finally, when the heated kiss ends, Terushima likes to pull away quickly, smirking and waiting for you to open your eyes in shock. When you do, he drowns himself in the sight of your blown-out pupils.

His thumbs are always a rough texture against your cheek thanks to how often he practices, but Terushima likes to slowly trace them over the curves over your cheeks, almost as if he’s trying to wipe away the flush that’s grown there. He likes the feeling of your heated skin under his fingertips. 

Both of your hearts are racing, and Terushima will let out a little breathless sigh before pulling away completely and capturing your hand in his. “Let’s go home, baby.” He’ll kiss the back of your hand, letting his tongue slip out for a split second and chuckling at the grossed out reaction you always provide. 

Sawamura Daichi:

Daichi hands out kisses sparingly, even in private. On a normal day, he’ll only greet you with a swift kiss to the forehead before holding your hand in his and walking beside you to school.

However, when you do kiss, he’s always gentle. These moments are precious to him, and he would hate to rush them for the both of you just for the sake of a little satisfaction. 

Normally, they happen after a hug. He pulls away from your shoulder and leans your forehead against his, waiting to see you look into his eyes before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It’s just a preview. 

The second kiss is more drawn out. He presses his lips against yours, and they’re smooth because of the plain chapstick he habitually puts on every morning after waking up. It’s careful, almost like Daichi wants to remember every little detail. 

While one hand tilts your jaw so he can kiss you deeper, the other lies at the small of your back, pressing you that much closer to his chest. 

He likes your hands at the back of his neck, just barely dipping into the hair along his nape. When your fingernails scratch that little spot of his that makes him groan, that’s when he pulls away, hot breath mingling with your own in the miniscule space between your pleased faces. 

Daichi feels like he could never get enough of you, so before pulling away, he’ll press just a small kiss to your lips that you willingly return. The hand on your chin moves to brush away some hair that had fallen into your face, and he’ll push it behind your ear before leading you away, to go home to study or continue the makeout session, whichever option you prefer. 

Kuroo Tetsurou:

Kisses with Kuroo are quick and teasing, usually found between classes and in hallways. 

He’ll sneak up behind you and spin you around by your hips, tugging you into a kiss that quickly muffles your surprised squeal.

As always, you melt into the kiss, letting out a small moan when he teasingly bites on your lower lip. You’ve noticed that over the years, he’s bitten your lips more than you ever had. 

At school, they’re always slow. Kuroo likes taking his time to truly lose himself in it. He doesn’t give in to his wandering hands, not after the most recent time when you punished him for pinching your ass in the middle of the hall right in front of everyone. Two weeks without sex and he was willing to listen to your every demand about PDA.

At home, however, your body is free game. In the privacy of his apartment, Kuroo always has the kiss lead to something more. He lets you know this with an eager swipe of his tongue along your lower lip. After being given permission, he’s instantly inside your mouth and winning the battle for dominance, but he still loves the little fight you like to put up once in awhile. 

Kuroo’s hands during a kiss are always below the chest. They wander your waist, your hips, your ass, about as far as he can get before he decides to take things to the next level. A hand pats the back of your thigh, and that’s the only signal you need to wrap your legs around him and let him carry you to the bedroom. 

When Kuroo pulls away from kisses, it’s almost like he baits you to want more. A string of saliva connects the two of you, and no matter where it lands, he’ll clean it right up. The movement as he separates from you is so slow you don’t even realize he’s gone until you notice that you can breathe once again. Subconsciously, you always chase after him, and you’re slow to open your eyes. 

“Let me see, Kitten.” A thumb brushes on the skin just above your cheek and that’s the sign he wants to see how blissed out you are. The second he sees how blown out your pupils are, his lips attack yours again, aching to taste that much more of you. 

While you know he doesn’t use chapstick or anything on a daily basis, his lips are normally soft. Some days, after a volleyball game or practice, they might be cracked, and only then will you taste the tang of mango chapstick, but other than that, his lips are only naturally soft. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi: 

Kisses with Ushijima are always initiated by you, and you alone. The only time you get him to kiss you first is when you ask, and even then he will occasionally pause millimeters away from your lips and wait for you to cover the remaining distance. 

You wish he would kiss you more though, as he’s surprisingly good at it. 

While in the beginning, you assumed he would be a little clumsy and awkward, Ushijima was basically a natural. Kissing you was like breathing air to him, and took him little to no time to figure out what you liked. 

During a kiss, Ushijima doesn’t really set the pace or care where your hands go. Though, if you were to ask, he would have to admit that he likes your hands on his face. There’s something about you cupping his face and pulling him in that makes him almost want more. 

With his hands, Ushijima’s quite traditional, and they always land on your hips. You like to feel them flinch when you suddenly nibble on his lips or press your tongue against his mouth. 

His lips have the bitter taste of Carmex, and though you’ve begged him to switch to something more appealing, he’s surprisingly unyielding about it. He says it’s healing and beneficial, and there’s really no other purpose for chapstick that matters other than those. 

The average kiss with Ushijima is a little forceful. His lips press against yours almost harshly, and sometimes you wonder if he actually does like it as much as you. There are times where you try to end the kiss but apparently it's much too soon for him. He’ll chase after your lips, and on these rare occasions, a hand will stray from your hips and press against the back of your head, pulling you back in for more. 

When you do manage to separate from Ushijima, he has the cutest little quirk of brushing his nose against yours for just a split second. Don’t bother asking him about it though, as he claims he has no idea what you’re talking about. Still, in these precious moments after the kiss, his face is still as blank as ever, but the hair hanging down on his forehead is ruffled and sticking out wildly. Your hands on his face hide the flush behind them, but if you spread your fingers, the red tint is slightly visible on his tanned skin. 

“How was that? Not too much of a pain, right?”

“I would not consider it a waste of my time if we were to kiss again, I suppose.”

Really, that’s the best response you can squeeze out of him.

Can I request Yandere Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya kidnapping a Fan Reader? Y/N is a fan but mostly those type of fans that admire from afar. But the reader can't handle being in the same room with the yandere. The reader gets all red and runs away. And if the yandere show affection, Y/N covers their face from embarrassment.

Kidnapping Fan Reader (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Ngl, this request is the bomb. Like seriously, I love ideas like these! Anyways, I’m gonna make these a lil long, and also I was a lil confused on how to make the reader a fan?? But I tried so here ya go. Please enjoy! (Side note: Good Lordy these are long😳😳 my bad)

Word count: 3814

Bakugou Katsuki:

As a pro hero, Bakugou was initially quite frightening to you. 

You were a nobody, just someone who always happened to be in the crowd whenever he had a person to save, but then your view of him changed when one day he saved a kitten from a tree in the park. 

It was the first time you had ever seen him so… calm. There was even a hint of a smile on his face when the cat chattered at him. Then, of course, he noticed you creepily watching him. 

A blush encompassed your face but before he could shout at you for watching him, you had dashed away with your hands on your cheeks. 

At first, Bakugou was confused. What a dumbass.

But then it was like he was seeing your blushing face everywhere. No one had ever looked at him like that-- like he was cute. 

Months passed, and you couldn’t help but notice the hero Ground Zero had become partial to patrolling your part of town for any danger. 

You brushed it off, counting it as a blessing since you often got to see him on the rooftop across from your apartment building, just surveying the street below. 

If only you had known that he was only watching you.

Bakugou couldn’t believe how stupid you were, leaving your window so open and bare for anyone to peer inside. Anyone could watch and see how you curled up on your couch to read a book. They could see how you would slowly fall asleep, head dropping back as a bit of drool dribbled down your chin. Any loser stupid enough to look through the glass would see how your shirt became rumpled as you shifted in your sleep. It was large enough to slip off one shoulder and leave your untainted skin bare for anyone to corrupt. 

God, it was like you were teasing him, daring him to come take what was his. Bakugou would teach you a lesson or two about toying with him. 

The wind blew through your open window. You always left it cracked since your AC was a bit fickle. And as you dozed off to sleep, you were almost certain that squeaky noise that reminded you to buy a little WD-40 once in a while was only a dream. 

Licking his lips, Bakugou slid open your window, cringing as it whined with the movement. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath, pushing it up the rest of the way. Thankfully, you were already knocked out, soft snores falling from your lips in a steady pattern. 

He couldn’t help but glance around your apartment, snickering at the sight of a poster in your open bedroom. It was from a photoshoot of his from when he first debuted as a pro hero. You had purchased the partially shirtless version. 

Surely you wanted this too, then.

And with that logic, he didn’t worry when your eyes fluttered open after he picked you up. 

Mind foggy, you were rudely awakened from your dream about a certain pro hero when you felt your body being lifted. The perpetrator made you wonder if you were still dreaming. 

“Ground Zero?”

“It’s Katsuki, babe. Call me Katsuki from now on.” His arms felt like solid metal, caging your knees and side to his chest as he carried you bridal style to your- open window?!

“W-what are you doing?” He snickers at this.

“Oh please. Don’t act all innocent now. I’ve seen your poster of me, and how you blush whenever I stop a villain in front of you. You want me, YN. And I want you too.”

“Please, I don’t want this!” You struggle in his arms, placing your hands on his chest to push him away but he doesn’t budge. 

“You little tease,” he hisses, using his arms to hold you over the ten story drop that was your open window. “I know what you like.” Fear leaves your body trembling as you default to your instincts, wrapping your arms around his neck so as to not fall to your death. Bakugou grins at this. “You think I don’t know how to read you by now?”

“Please don’t.” 

“Oh, don’t worry babe. I’m taking you home.”

And with that, he hops out of the window and explodes his way through the skies, reveling in the way you cling to his body so tightly. Your whines and whimpers were so cute. Almost as adorable as the blush you used to always wear around him.

It only takes a year to break you. 

In his own home, he kept you locked up tightly. Every window was barred and every door to freedom had six locks, each matching the keys he dangled on his fingertips every time he came home. 

In the first few weeks, you were scared of him and what he would do. Then a month later, you determined his attitude: he was naturally loud and volatile, but he would never hurt you. From then on, he expected you to act a certain way.

Cook him dinner, greet him with a kiss, sleep in his arms, and never try to escape. 

It had been a struggle to get you to agree to the pattern, but after months and months of practice, you finally got in the groove. 

Bakugou even got to see that classic blush of yours whenever he arrived home and peppered your face with kisses. 

Totally worth it.

Todoroki Shouto:

With Todoroki, you’re just a minor student in the Support class of UA, but everytime you cross paths with him in the halls, you let out a squeak and sprint past him. 

Todoroki tried to shake it off. Of course, you weren’t the first person to be wary of him and his abilities. Honestly, it was nothing new and he had a mark to prove it. 

Really, it’s true. Todoroki thought you hated his guts. You always avoid talking to him and hide your face whenever he comes into a room. He thought that was a red flush of anger on your face. 

It’s only when Kaminari groans about how jealous he is over the whole thing. 

“Ugh, Todoroki, you’re so lucky. Why does a hottie like YN have to be whipped for a guy like you?!”

Todoroki just shrugs and walks away, but it only hits him later in his dorm that “Oh shit, that’s what that is.”

He’s all like, “Hmm, makes sense.”

It doesn’t make sense, but he still likes you.

He’s not really sure why, he just does. Todoroki’s never had a girl that acted like you around him. Acted like he was this great person worthy of admiration, whether from a distance or up close. 

The thought of you begins to leave fuzzy feelings in his chest. You? Whipped for him? Nu-uh, no way.

But God, then he notices the way you smile when he enters a room, just before you hide your face. And the way you stutter and fumble over your feet to run away when he talks to you. 

With a quick Google search, he deduces that these are all signs of a crush. 

Oh. Ohh. Well… Todoroki kind of liked that. 

And the next day, he was determined to talk to you. He wanted to see those cherry cheeks up close, and those little flecks of color in your eyes as well. He wanted to see your pupils dilate and your lips fumble for words because you were speechless at the sight of-

What.

A man. No, not a man. An unworthy piece of shit was talking to you. Making you laugh and giggle enough that a rosy tint fell on your face. He was too close for comfort, only inches away from brushing your hand with his. 

Todoroki had to stop this. 

In seconds, he’s covered the distance between you two, feet stomping against the floor loud enough to gather the attention of most in the classroom. He had barged into your classroom to talk to you.

“T-todoroki,” you stutter pathetically, eyes wide as you scramble to hide your face. Blood had risen to the skin of your neck, clear as day thanks to you turning your head to the side. 

“YN, I need to talk to you.” With a hard glare at the other guy, the Class 1A student latches a cold hand over your wrist and tugs you out of the classroom, other students watching in awe at the display. 

“W-what are you-” you cut yourself off and curse under your breath, heat gathering in your face. God, you hated how you couldn’t control yourself in front of him.

Todoroki loved it.

“Shh, just come with me,” he hushes, dragging you into a nearby janitor’s closet just as the bell rings.

“But we need to get to class,” you choke out, proud of how you kept your words steady this round. Butterflies flutter in your abdomen when he pulls you into the tiny room, closing the door behind him before turning to you. 

“We can skip for a bit.” Heterochromatic eyes burn into your own, leaving you ducking your head and scuffing your shoes on the floor. 

“Why-” your question falls from your lips when Todoroki begins to leer closer to you. The sudden proximity leaves you stumbling back until you hit a wall, gulping when his forearms cage you in, one on either side of your head. 

“I didn’t like that, YN.”

“L-like what?”

“That guy,” he seethes. A heat begins to flow off him, growing hot enough to make your forehead perspire. The other half of your body is almost numb, slowly fading into the first dead twinges of frostbite. One of your cheeks feels sunburned while the other is completely desensitized. “He shouldn’t have been touching you.”

Was this a dream? This boy, a soon-to-be pro hero and one of the top in the school, had cornered you in a closet with his face inches away from yours. You didn’t even know he knew you existed. You had always watched from afar, first falling for his aloof looks at the sports festival. 

And now… you just didn’t know. 

“I can’t let that happen again, YN. I just can’t let you run around talking to other guys, laughing and being so close to them when you know you’re mine.” 

What was he going on about?

“Not anymore,” he finally adds, pressing his forehead against yours and staring into your eyes. 

It doesn’t dawn until it happens that he had grabbed a cloth off a shelf in the janitor’s closet. The sickly sweet smell of chloroform invades your senses as you scream in surprise.

You couldn’t help it after a while. You were so tired. And as your vision fades to black, Todoroki purses his lips and wraps his spare arm around your waist. “Not anymore,” he mutters.

You had always known the Todoroki family was loaded. Though it’s not why you liked him, you couldn’t avoid the fact that he used it to his advantage-- especially with you. 

He had bought a small apartment only a few blocks away from UA and decked it out with soundproof walls, bulletproof glass, and locks on everything. 

The one bedroom-- your bedroom-- was beautiful. Silk sheets on a king-sized bed, canopy overhanging it like a protective curtain. There was a bookshelf and a television for your entertainment, along with a window seat so you could see the outside-- the glass was tinted, of course. He didn’t want anyone invading your privacy. 

A closet was filled to the brim with clothing of your size, all fitting like they had been tailored for your body alone. As much as you hated to admit it, Todoroki treated you like a queen. A kidnapped one, yes, but a queen nonetheless. 

He was only waiting for the day that you would ask him to join you on that large, lonely bed of yours. 

Midoriya Izuku: 

In all sense of the word, you were his fan. Really, there was nothing more to it. 

You would flock to all his fights, simply amazed by his power and will. He was a hero, pure and kind to all with an open mind for everyone, and you admired that. 

It also didn’t hurt that Deku was attractive. Rippling muscles hid behind a green costume, almost too similar to the retired hero All Might’s. Freckles dusted over the bridge of his nose and onto the tips of his cheeks, giving him an almost boyish look, but there was something in his eyes. Something you couldn’t see unless he looked directly at you- Oh!

You glanced away with a blush after the number one hero looked up from tying down the villain he had captured. He must have felt your eyes and saw you staring like a hawk-- how embarrassing!

Of course, you weren’t the only one watching him. There was an entire crowd gathered to see the pro hero do his thing. It was only awkward that he had made eye contact with you of all people. What made it worse was that he had smirked. 

Not even his normal, everyday smile that he gave to everyone, but a sly, devious little quirk of his lips. It looked so foreign on his face, and it felt like he knew something you didn’t. 

Ugh, how embarrassing.

You couldn’t hide the heat on your cheeks so you decided to abandon the group of fans, leaving them to watch the rest of Deku’s and hoping to catch up on the news later that night. 

If only you knew that wouldn’t be the first time he had noticed you in a crowd. 

Deku had been watching you for weeks. You were just so adorable, he couldn’t help himself. And honestly, deep down he sees himself in you. There’s a strength behind your eyes, a confidence to do something, and a will to make things happen. 

Deku wanted to help you discover how great you are. In the beginning, at least.

Now, it’s become more of an obsession. 

Under the guise that he wants to see what quirk or potential you have, he’s fallen into the habit of watching you in his spare time. 

No, it’s not stalking. He’s just making sure you’re safe. 

Somewhere during this process of wanting to get to know your life, he’s discovered that you’re perfect. Not only for him, but for everybody. 

You were kind to others, always handing out compliments and taking the high road in arguments. So pure, so untouched. Deku wanted to keep it that way. 

It was all the better when he had followed you home one day and saw it-- the home screen of your phone. It was a picture of him taken by a local fansite. Dramatic flames had been photoshopped behind his outlined form, and even Deku had to admit he looked good. The picture had caught every detail, every indent of his body the hero suit clung to and enhanced. 

He caught you biting your lip and clicking your phone off with a blush before continuing home. 

Deku just knew he had to tease you more. 

What he felt wasn’t fluffy at all. It was intense. A deep, possessive side of him had been unlocked the more he followed you. One day, he knew he had to do something about it. 

Another kidnapping, another villain fought, and as expected, you were among the crowd of spectators. Deku figured you were just as addicted to him as he was to you.

You must’ve been. It was the only explanation. 

You wiggled your way through the crowd all the way to the edge, right where you could peek between all the surrounding people and catch a glimpse of the battle. 

Blood poured from a gash in Deku’s head as he dodged another swing from the villain. 

He hasn’t been moving his legs much, surely I can strike… now!

With a swift kick of his foot, Deku cracked the villain’s kneecap with enough force to make him crumple to the ground. His audience cheered at the sight and news reporters began smiling at their cameras, announcing to their viewers at home that the number one hero had won yet another battle.

While he kneeled down on the villain’s back, his gaze wandered the crowd. 

Where? Where is she? Where’s YN? 

Panic struck his heart when he couldn’t find you in your usual front row spot. No, you were here. You had to be.

His ears perked through all the jabberings of the crowd at the sound of a single camera clicking. Eyes darting back and forth, he finally spotted your signature phone case, with a chibi version of his own face on the back. 

Relief floods his system all before that familiar rush of arrogance that always comes with you watching him takes over. As soon as he finally catches your eye, he throws you a wink.

The outcome is certainly not disappointing. 

Oh my God, he just winked at me. 

You blanch at the sight before your throat releases a little squeal of excitement. You hadn’t even opened your mouth, but apparently it was still audible from thirty feet away. 

You’re almost positive steam is blowing from your ears by the time Deku begins chuckling, green eyes twinkling in glee. 

 Before you could spontaneously combust, you hightail it out of there, shouldering through the crowd and tearing cheek all the way to your house like a bat out of hell. 

“That did not just happen!” You slam your apartment door behind you, coughing and heaving breaths as it had been a while since you ran a goddamn marathon. 

“Oh my God, kill meeeeee,” you whine, running your hands down your face before flopping backwards onto the couch. Evidently, you had accidentally sat on your remote, as the television clicks on and scares the shit out of you. 

“Number one hero Deku defeated the villain only twenty minutes ago, right outside this gas station. Now, we do have footage, but we must warn that it may be graphic for some viewers.”

Your eyes drift to the screen as it switches to footage of the actual fight. Deku takes a hit right to the forehead, leaving a small gash before he dodges and jams the heel of his foot into his opponent’s kneecap, dropping him in seconds. The footage drags on for a few more seconds, and your face burns at the sight of him winking and snickering. 

“They actually got footage of that?!” Part of you is mortified that people all over the city had now seen that (and you’re a bit surprised that it was even real), but the other half is almost glad that it was you he had done that for. Your heart warms at the thought.

“I know, right? I kinda want to save that video now. If only they had caught your cute little blush too.” The sudden voice leaves you lying rigid on your couch. It’s a man’s, and it sounds way too cheerful for your average robber.

“Who are yo-” you cut yourself off when the man comes into view, taking your breath away. 

“Hi darling,” Deku grins. A rough hand peels away from his side to brush the hair away from your face, not faltering when you flinch away. 

“Deku…?” You try to sit up but in an instant, he’s straddling you, one leg on either side of your hip while his face nuzzles against yours. 

“God this is a dream come true, don’t you agree?” 

“How…?” Your mind has truly gone blank, even as your mouth gapes like a fish. 

“Don’t you agree?” Deku repeats insistently. The knees on either side of your hips have begun to press against you with bruising force. His hands trail up and down your arms slowly, just trying to feel you. 

“Why are you here?”

Deku huffs and pulls away, only to press his forehead against yours. “C’mon YN, I know you’re smarter than that.” Rude. “I’m here so we can finally be together!” 

Your hands tremble at your sides. There’s a definitive edge to his tone that makes you understand there’s no other way out of this.

“... You want to be together, right?” Only a second ago, he looked so dangerous and now his eyes are watering. Who exactly had you fallen for? 

“Deku… we don’t know each other.” It was then that you discovered there was nothing more awkward than reassuring a random man straddling your lap. The awkwardness only increased when his tears began to drip down onto your face. 

“YN, please don’t make me do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“I really didn’t want to do this, but I can see now there’s no other way.”

“Deku,” you don’t like the low timber that has grown into his tone, “what are you doing?” 

There was no point in fighting. Deku was a pro hero, number one at that. He’d trained for years, perfecting his body and his quirk, and the best you’ve ever done is buy a gym membership and never use it. 

That’s exactly why no matter how you pushed against his broad shoulders, his toned chest, or even tried to knee him where the sun didn't shine, you couldn’t stop him from pulling the cloth out of his pocket and laying it over your face. 

“Shh,” he couldn’t hold back his tears as you struggled. “Please don’t fight it, YN. Just breathe it in and I promise we can be together forever. Just breathe.”

You wanted to keep fighting. You didn’t want to go where this insane, batshit hero would inevitably take you. But God…

You were so tired…

The next time you wake up, the sun is shining through a nearby window. What you assume is a bed lies beneath you, enveloping you in it’s soft covers. 

Solid, muscular arms are wound around you like a barrier, and you finally take note of what had woken you up.

Pain. Teeth are nibbling at the skin of your neck, no doubt leaving marks.

“Please stop,” you say, voice scratched from little use. The thigh that has worked its way between the two of your own presses higher against your sensitivity, shifting with excitement as Deku smiles.

“Good morning, darling! Welcome to your new home!”

Uhmm I just saw the fake texts? And like Terushima with a star wars kink? ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ ❤

Bro you already know it. How much you wanna bet he has a lightsaber in his closet that he runs around with when his parents aren’t home?

And what if like... he uses it on you bc it vibrates when it makes a sound effect😳😳

Aww shit, anybody else wanna see a haikyuu/star wars au now??

Guppy Love (Todoroki x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Fish don’t survive in coffee. You find that out the hard way.

A/N: My God, I love this one so much. Please enjoy!

Word count: 1486

        “Man, you are whipped for her!” Todoroki rolls his eyes at the statement. 

        “No, I’m not.”

        “You liar, you totally like YN!” Kaminari pokes his classmate’s arm obnoxiously. 

        “I don’t like her, so stop going around saying that,” Todoroki monotonously responded. 

        The class froze at the sound of a crash and a scream in the hallway. Suddenly, Mina bursts breathlessly into the room, her eyes wide with terror.

        “Yn fell in the hallway and-”

        Todoroki’s hand bursts into flames on his desk, leaving burns in the wood. 

        “Is she okay?!” He doesn’t wait for an answer before pushing past Mina and sprinting out into the hall. 

        “YN!”

        He finds you collapsed on your knees in the middle of the corridor with puffy eyes and red cheeks.

        “I dropped the fish tank.” You sniffle and shyly hold up a filled coffee cup with an orange creature floating ominously at the surface. “I don’t think Mr. Bubbles is gonna make it.” Your voice is tight with sadness as you stare ashamed into the overflowing cup. 

        “Yn, I’m so sorry.”

        “Can you make some water for him or something?” Your eyes glowed with hope as you stared up at him. 

        “I don’t think-”

        “Please?” Todoroki sighs and gives in, taking a seat next to you on the ground and cupping his hands. In the one, he creates ice, and then proceeds to use the other to melt it. 

        With his fingers clumped tightly together to form a makeshift bowl of water, Todoroki tries not to grimace at the slimy texture of the fish you plop into his hand. 

        Mr. Bubbles doesn’t move. 

        “Maybe he’s just sleeping,” you say hopefully, your eyes locked on the guppy. 

        “Maybe he’s dead.” Todoroki observes your face for a reaction, but you simply bite your lip with drying eyes. 

        “Maybe you’re right,” you mutter before groaning and dropping your face into your hands. Todoroki shifts uncomfortably and sneers at the dead fish floating in his grasp. 

        “What should we do?” you ask. Todoroki’s eyes trail to you before glancing at the nearby courtyard, then returning to your face once more. Catching his drift, you gasp dramatically. 

        “No, I am not leaving him for dead in the middle of the school yard!” 

        “He’s already dead.”

        “I don’t care!” After standing up, you help Todoroki to his feet and cross your arms indignantly. 

        “We should hold a funeral in the bathroom!” You smack your hands together as if you’ve just discovered the cure for cancer. “It’s genius! And tasteful!” 

        “Or we could leave some bird a generous meal in the school courtyard.” You give him a withering glare.

        “All those in favor of holding a memorial service for our beloved Mr. Bubbles, raise your hand.” You raise your hand at your own suggestion then ask, “All those opposed?” Todoroki narrows his eyes at you. Even if he tried to “oppose,” water and dead fish would spill everywhere. 

        “It seems we’ve come to a compromise.” You smile happily at him and clap excitedly. 

        “That was, in no way, a compromise.” The emotion of Todoroki’s face is emptier than a teenage boy’s search history, but you try to ignore how it still manages to make your heart race.

        “No matter! Follow me,” you announce, directing Todoroki to the nearest bathroom... it’s the women’s room.

        “YN no-“ you giddily shove him in with a little too much force and Mr. Bubbles goes on a once in a lifetime (or is it death time?) flight. You both watch in horror as he falls to the ground with a squelching “splat.”

        Nobody makes a sound, completely aghast at the crime scene. The bathroom is hauntingly silent except for the gentle buzzing of the fluorescent lights.

        “I’m not picking him up!” Todoroki mumbles and you shout at the same time, voices clashing noisily. Neither of you wanted to touch the corpse. Swiftly, you look over at your partner in crime and nod your head towards the fish once, twice, three times all the while he’s shaking his head.

        “No way, I already picked up that thing once. It’s your turn.”

        “Oh come on!”

        “Plus, you killed it.” You gasp offensively while he raises his brows. The staredown doesn’t last long and you eventually throw in the towel, pursing your lips and rolling your eyes. Shoes squeaking against the tile, you skulk your way over to the fish.

        “Fine.” Crouching low, you investigate Mr. Bubbles from multiple angles, trying to deduct the best method of transfer. 

        “He’s not just gonna flop himself in, you know.” You hurl a murderous look at Todoroki for the quip before reaching out with pinched fingers towards your flubby friend. 

        “God, this is a bloodbath,” you grimace before tentatively snagging a fin and holding back a gag at it’s slippery texture. 

        “Grossgrossgrossgrossgross,” you repeat all the way to the toilet, unceremoniously tossing Mr. Bubbles into the bowl like a sack of flour. “Oh my Godddd!” you choke out, darting over to the sink and almost slipping in the water puddle Todoroki left on the way. 

        While you clean your hands, your companion peers in at a floating Mr. Bubbles, blanching at the sight of the fish’s blank, bulging eye staring unblinkingly at him. He backs away slowly and you join him by his side, gulping nervously. 

        “Let’s get the party started, shall we?” you ask with a shaky smile. 

        “Sure” is Todoroki’s lame response. You scoff before clearing your throat.

        “Well, Mr. Bubbles, you lived a good, long life-”

        “About two weeks.”

        “And it’s a shame to see you go like this.”

        “Just to be clear, we know it wasn’t your fault-”

        “Zip it, Shouto!” You point a trembling finger at him threateningly and he raises his hands in surrender. 

        “Anyways, even though I tried my very best to save you-”

        “You scooped him into Aizawa’s coffee mug.”

        “It’s still a sad day to watch you go. We will always cherish the memories we shared with you-”

        “Yep, those two that we made. The one where we bought him for two bucks and the other where you overfed him and gave him fish diabetes-”

        “Do you know how it feels to be strangled? Because you’re about to find out.” Arms akimbo, you stare at Todoroki with fierce, wide eyes. He shrugs. “That’s what I thought,” you nodded. 

        As you ramble on to your beloved fish friend, Todoroki can’t help but zone out and think about the situation he has found himself in. For the first time in his life, he’s ditching a class in school, and it’s only to throw a funeral for an over-caffeinated guppy. With anyone else, he would have left twenty minutes ago, but right now he wanted to stay. You were here, and Todoroki never knew why, but he always felt drawn to your presence. He had only known you for two months, but something about you made him want to break down the walls he had built up over the years. You were different, and you valued every moment of life you had. He adored that about you.

        Geez, maybe he was whipped.

        The gentle beating in his chest soon rivaled that of a racing stampede of elephants when you scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Your heart sped up too, but you didn’t care to mention it. Instead, you chose to release a shaky breath when his arm slowly encompassed your shoulders. 

        “Um,” you swallow, “did you want to say anything?” 

        Todoroki held in a snort. “No, I’m plenty good.” The room fell into silence once more, but the atmosphere wasn’t solemn for a dead fish funeral. It was tense and shy, filled with teenage anxiousness that only arose when two requited crushes were together in one room. Todoroki started to grow uncomfortable, though.

        “So are you gonna flush him or...?” he trails off.

        “Oh yeah.” You lick your lips nervously and step out of his warm embrace before pressing down the handle. “Goodbye Mr. Bubbles. We wish you well on your journey to the... I don’t know, water heavens or something.” You step away with a shrug back into Todoroki’s hold. All is peaceful, until....

        Clunk clunk.

        Oh crap.

        Both of you watch in horror as the toilet clogs, water rising higher and higher until it overflows, carrying the dead fish with it. Yours and Todoroki’s eyes follow the journey of Mr. Bubbles as he rides a wave all the way to the tips of your shoes, stopping perfectly to stare up at the two of you with vacant, enlarged pupils. 

        You sigh and smack your palm against your face. “I’ll go get the janitor.”

        “I told you we should’ve just hucked him.”

        “Shut it, Shouto.”

bakugo when the reader is like in that cheerleader outfit from the sports festival 😳😳🤯🤯

Bakugou’s S/O in Sport’s Festival Cheer Outfit (BNHA Headcanons)

*GIF not mine*

A/N: Bruhhhh this was such a good idea, but I’m not gonna lie, I got a lil thirsty😳 Like seriously, this shit gets 🥵, so read with caution?? In all honesty, I hope you like it! Please enjoy!

Word count: 637

Oof, now this is a concept

When you do this, you’re playing a dangerous game, poking the bear, riling up a cobra preparing to strike. 

While the other girls dressed up for sake of competition, you did it to play with fire. 

You’re standing on the field, thighs and midriff bare for all the viewers to see like fresh meat on a platter. 

Then finally-- finally-- Bakugou steps out with his other classmates and confronts the sight. 

His eyes are just… roaming.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the sight as the atmosphere grows harder to breathe. The tension finally snaps when he- umm what?

Explodey boy charges at you with a sneer, his hands outstretched and sparking. 

He’s livid.

“YN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING?!” 

His tone is scolding and accusatory, almost like a father chastising a child. 

You weren’t exactly one to drool over being chided. In fact, your boyfriend just lit a fire under your ass. 

“Excuse me?”

“Take it off right now!” 

Oh-ho no, that’s NOT happening. 

Bakugou couldn’t believe you, testing him by going out in front of others by wearing that.

Rage pumped through his bloodstream at the sight, but not only that. His pants were growing tighter as well. 

He knew you were peeved at his tone, but the last thing he wanted on you was other people’s wandering eyes.

You were his, and as much as he didn’t wanna be that guy… he was totally gonna be that guy. 

Bakugou steps closer to you and ignores how you try to back away determinedly. His hand latches onto yours and drags you away, tugging you off the field and away from prying eyes. 

You struggle to keep up with his vigorous strides and huff in anger when he finally stops, pulling you into a room and locking the door. 

The room is silent as his back faces you. Not one part of you is afraid, all of your limbs held tight in preparation for an attack. 

“YN,” uh oh, “do you have any idea how fucking unbearable you are right now?” 

Ah, such a way with words. 

Anyways…

His voice is strained and dripping with lust, and when he finally turns around you understand why. 

Bakugou’s nostrils are flaring, and he takes deliberate steps closer to you. Try all you want, you can’t stop the harsh thumping of your heart at this moment. 

When he’s finally close enough, his hand grasps your wrists and walks you back, back, back until you make contact with a cold wall. 

“You made this mess, sweetheart,” he trails his lips down your throat. “Now fix it.” 

An hour later, Bakugou is called out to fight. He swaggers into the arena, disheveled hair barely noticeable from this distance. Thankfully, the high neck of his jacket covers a few hickeys as well. 

 You, however, scramble back into the stands, hair ruffled and clothes oversized. 

“Aww YN, where’d the cheerleading outfit go?” Toru pouts, waggling her pom poms.

Nervously giggling, you collapse into a seat next to her, ignoring the shakiness of your legs as you try to sit in a comfortable position. Ouch. 

“I, uh, I had to change. I was getting a little cold.” 

Not really. But Bakugou’s sweatshirt combined with leggings hides his lovebites better than that outfit ever would. 

It is definitely still tucked in the back of your closet for… future occasions, though.

Standing down in the arena, Bakugou spots you in the stands and throws you a devilish smirk that has you squeezing your legs together.

I just started a writing blog, your pieces were a big inspiration for me to start writing. I just published my first piece. I love your writing and I hope you keep doing it! :)

Oh wow, that’s awesome!! I’m glad I could give you the push you wanted to start writing (and thank you for the kind words😊)!! I remember that just starting out is one of the hardest things to do, so it’s awesome that you’ve taken that first step🥳🥳

Good luck and remember to have fun💜💜

The darling escape scenarios are sooo good, I love this series 😭 the fact that bokuto was afraid above all else hurt me even though I know he’s so messed up LOL but the kags and kenma scenes really surprised me! my heart usually sinks when the yandere gets out and captures reader again but this time it sank in a completely different way, watching the emotional manipulation working into reader’s thoughts 👁👄👁 I always hope for reader to succeed in escaping though, so I hope they did make it out and got away for good 🤞thank you so much for writing these fics, they’re always so fun to read!

😭😭this is so sweet!! I’m really happy you enjoyed the post as—ngl—I wasn’t really feeling too confident about posting it. The positive reviews it has been receiving in just a few short hours makes me want to write so many more though💜💜 thank you so much for this, and thank you all for the support recently🥰

I promise there is plenty more yandere content to come😌 and I’m glad you enjoyed the way I write them😚

Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 1~

(Supernatural/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: How do normal people react when they get kidnapped by a vampire and a wizard claiming to be their soulmates? Because you try to choke them out with their own breakfasts. But maybe that’s just you. 

A/N: This is gonna be a series if y’all want it, or it could die right here right now. Either way, I hope y’all like it!

Word count: 5771

        You were just as beautiful as when he had first met you eight centuries ago. The too-small apartment you bumbled around in was just outside the university’s campus so you could get to your early morning classes, and resided about two miles away from your horrible job so you could travel to work easily too. 

        Through your window, he could see you singing a tune shyly under your breath, still new enough to living in an apartment that you didn’t know whether your neighbors could hear you. The clangs from the dishes you placed into your cupboards hurt his ears, even though he was a few hundred feet away on another complex’s dusty rooftop. There was a gentle smile on your face that sped up his heart, and a lively glow in your eyes that made him hold back a giggle. Your skin looked so soft too-

        “What’s she doing?” A dull voice hummed behind the older, more energetic man. 

        “The dishes, just like every other Thursday,” he responded cheerfully, peeling his gaze away from the telescope and swiveling to his friend. “She’s putting away the knives.” 

        “She’s gonna hurt herself.”

        “No way,” the older shook his head, “she handles knives just as well as she has in her past lives.”         “Yeah, but this round she’s seriously clumsy. It gives me a headache.” The black-haired male shoulders past his companion to glance through the spyglass. He sighs at the event he witnesses. “There, see? She just cut herself.” 

        “Oh shit, let me see!” The erratic man pushes his aloof friend aside to watch you, scared you had been seriously injured. It doesn’t take long before the sight of you takes its effect, and he feels his canines piercing through his gums. You were bleeding.

        Inside your apartment, you hiss against your teeth while gingerly dabbing a tissue against the finger you had sliced open. Anxiously, he gulps before pulling away from the scope and turning to his friend. 

        “I guess we’ll just have to watch over her even more this time.”

        “No kidding.”

        Both men loved you. Both men needed you. And soon, both men would have you. 

                                ~~~

        University, you decided, was going to be a blast. You had a wonderful job at a little diner, many classes that interested you, and a cheap apartment that cost almost nothing compared to how wonderful the size and interior of it was. 

        There was only one small downside: everywhere you went, it felt like a pair of eyes was constantly watching you. While you did your homework, while you slept, while you traveled to class, it was terrifying. Someone was watching you; the only question was who? 

        “YN!” A voice frightens you out of your daze and you turn to find the voice. It’s Sakura, the only friend you’ve made since you’ve been on campus so far. Her long, black hair tumbles down her shoulders in wavy locks, and it brushes the waistline of her drastically-mini skirt. Most of her toned stomach is showing, but the neon orange crop top she’s wearing isn’t really doing her any favors. In a word, Sakura was… voluptuous, even though she stood about a petit four inches  below you. She certainly knew how to flaunt her assets, anyway. 

        You, on the other hand, accepted your collegiate fate instantly. Hiking your hefty backpack up higher on your shoulder, you tried not to feel like a potato sack standing across from her in your plain, maroon sweatshirt and black yoga pants. While she stood on the most popular Vans of this decade, checkered and all, you settled for your black and white Adidas, which were way past their prime. Your budget couldn’t afford it anyways, so there was no point in a comparison. 

        “Hey Sakura!” you waved shyly and tensed when she joined her arm with your own. “what’s up?” 

        “Oh nothing,” she rolled her eyes playfully before skipping on her feet beside you, “I’m just freaking out over getting to meet the new, hot teacher!” Squinting your eyes at the screech, you press your heels into the ground to stop her trek. Sakura glances back at you curiously.

        “New teacher?” Her jaw drops at you.

        “You didn’t know?!” You flinch at her high-pitched exclamation once more before shaking your head.

        “No…?”

        “Oh my God, YN!” she drawls and smacks your shoulder playfully, “you need to get in the loop around here! You’re a student too, you know.” 

        “Oh, trust me, I know.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Now tell me more about this ‘hot teacher’ you’re so excited to meet.” She squeals with delight and latches onto your upper arm, dragging you inside the school’s main building. 

        It looks much more sleek on the inside than on the outside. While the exterior of the school was made from old, mossy bricks and had spire-like architectures to resemble a castle, the interior had pure white marble floors and walls covered in glass cases holding trophies. More awards than you ever thought existed lined the bright halls of the university, each adorned with a picture of a smiling alumni. Distantly, you wondered if you would ever accomplish something as special. 

        “So Brittany told me that Alex said that Jennifer heard…” Sakura’s gleeful chitters echo down the endless corridors, trailing off as you fall deeper and deeper into a worry-filled rabbit hole. What if you failed right on the first day? What if you never even came close to winning any kind of important awards like the people who had come here before you? 

        A headache grew not only from the bitter scent of Windex in the air covering every glass surface around you, but also from the flurry of thoughts in your head. You barely even comprehend when Sakura drops your arm and gasps at something, and you only shake out of your daze when it’s too late. 

        “Oof.” You slam into a sturdy, bulky chest and fall with a thud to the marble floor. With a hiss, you rub your aching backside and groan lightly. “That kinda hurt.”

        “Oh, I’m so sorry, are you all right?” The voice is deep and throaty, but there’s a certain giddiness about it that makes you wonder if his bumping into you was really an accident. Huffing, you glare up at the man, only to freeze at the sight. His hair looks like a black and white explosion, and his golden eyes are lit up with childlike excitement. Everything about him screams “powerful,” and even though his mouth is hidden behind a black facemask, you could almost swear he was beaming at you. Suddenly, a hand is waving around in front of your face.

        “Are you okay?” he asks again, eyes still narrowed arrogantly while he offers you help to your feet. 

        When you accept, a spark trails from his fingertips to yours and travels through your whole body at lightning speed before settling in the pit of your stomach. Involuntarily, you shiver and your fingers squeeze his large, rough hands. He lets out a small hum and closes his eyes at the action before whipping them open not even a second later. The pupils, black and glittering, have taken over the majority of his irises, and the man takes a small step closer to you. 

        “Thanks,” you whisper, unable to detach yourself from his enrapturing gaze.

        “Of course, YN.” The skin just under his eye twitches as he leans closer to you, and your breath hitches at his growing proximity.

        “Ahem!” Someone clears their throat loudly behind the wild-haired man and he instantly pulls away from you at the sound. It was like you had burned him, but before you could ask if he was okay, he mutters an apology over his shoulder and twists away from you, but not before giving your hand a quick squeeze. With a wink, he disappears into another hallway, leaving you with a tight feeling in your chest and a racing heart. 

        “YN!” It’s at that moment that you realize Sakura had witnessed all of that. “What the hell was that?” she whisper-yells at you with wide, mystified eyes. Still flustered yourself, you can only shrug and clench the straps of your backpack tightly.

        “I don’t know.” 

        “Well it doesn’t matter,” she scoffs before grasping your forearm and discreetly gesturing to a man in front of you. “Look,” she whispers enthusiastically, “it’s the hot teacher.”

        Oh, so that’s why she had gasped. And not without reason, too. The guy standing in front of you stole your breath away, and jump-started your heart just as it was about to settle down. 

        He had gunmetal blue eyes that seemed to narrow at everything, and messy black hair you desperately wanted to run your hands through. Though he was less built than the man you had just run into, there was still a hint of muscle under his clean, dark blazer. He was decked in a suit and tie, and looked more like James Bond than your new English teacher. Not that you were complaining. 

        “You ladies must be new students in my class.” His tone, albeit flat and bored, still set a fire to your nerves, much like the boy from earlier.

        “Yes, professor, we are!” Sakura nods frantically beside you and bats her eyelashes. “We are so excited to be in your class this year!” While she puckers her lips discreetly, you shift on your feet and bite the inside of your cheek, trying to restrain a blush. When his gaze shifts to you and the corner of his lips quirks up, your plan goes down the drain. 

        With a light chuckle under his breath, the professor nods approvingly at the two of you, and an emotion flickers through his eyes for a fleeting second as he stares at you once more. You barely catch it and can’t identify it in the small amount of time before he says, “Well, my room is right here. Class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, but you’re not the only ones to arrive early, so go ahead and find a seat.” 

        He gestures for you to follow him inside, and the door closes with a whoosh behind you as you enter the classroom. While the professor, Keiji Akaashi from what you can read off his nameplate, takes his seat at his large wooden desk, you peruse the space around you. 

        Students are chattering about in the lecture hall. Some are gathered in large clumps peering down at phones and giggling, while others are alone with headphones on, relaxing before the first class of the day. Sakura foolishly attempts to seat you both at the bottom row, closest to the teacher’s desk. Although you appreciated her reasoning, something always drew you to the back of the classroom, the very end of the space. Normally, what led you to covet this mostly hidden area in the dimmer part of the luminescent room was the idea of solitude and sparement from cheating, but today it was something more. 

        There was a boy, yes another one, lounged in the farthest row. With feet kicked up and crossed one over the other on his table space, he leaned back and watched you just as you watched him. His arms were folded behind his head while he served you a smug smirk, running a slow hand through his dark bedhead before waving teasingly at you. The cheeky act made you squeak in surprise, then a sudden growl rumbled around the room. 

        “Ms. YLN, please find a seat. Preferably one where you won’t be distracted.” Mr. Akaashi grumbled, observing you with narrowed eyes. 

        “Yes sir.” With a frantic nod, you dash up the steps to the last row of desks and plop down in one, Sakura long forgotten in the front row. She’s already made a few friends who seem just as thrilled as her to be in this class, so you weren’t exactly worried. You drop your bag to the floor beside you and pull out your phone to distract from your lonesome, but it doesn’t last long. A warm body approaches you and collapses into the spot right next to you, relaxing back into the same position you had seen him in two seconds ago. 

        “The name’s Kuroo,” he grins at you, opening only one eye to look you up and down. 

        “I’m YN,” you sputter out, dismissing formalities. “Nice to meet you.”

        “I know,” Kuroo simpers, and you can’t help but scoff at his response. The confidence he oozes is contagious, and so is the smirk he wears. 

        “Oh wow,” you laugh with a nod, “all right, smooth guy, calm it down.”

        “What,” he raises a brow playfully, “is it not nice to meet me?” 

        You bite your lip and shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, I don’t know,” you slump down into your chair and mock his posture, kicking your legs up onto the desk and crossing your arms, “you tell me.” 

        Your desk buddy cackles at this and you giggle with him. His laughter is just as infectious as his attitude. In your head, you knew this was going to bloom into a fun friendship-

        “YLN, Kuroo! Class is about to begin, so settle down!” Mr. Akaashi looks like he is about to blow steam out his ears, and his jaw twitches while snarling at you two. The sight sobers you right up, and you hurriedly sit straight up at your desk while muttering an apology. 

        For the rest of the period, Kuroo whispers the occasional joke into your ear that makes you want to crack up, but you’ve already had enough of your teacher’s scowl to know that would be dangerously thin ice. It ends with Mr. Akaashi dismissing you all and handing out a rubric for your first assignment as people exit the doorway. As you scramble to gather your notes and pens for your backpack, your new friend stays behind to keep you company. 

        “I’m telling you, YN, you’re only gonna cry at the end if you watch it!” Kuroo insists while handing you a textbook. 

        “Why would I?”

        “Because they shoot the dog!” You pout at him sadly while he furrows his brows and starts to continue. “At least, you really shouldn’t watch it alone.” 

        “Mhm.” He follows you down the steps of the lecture hall and to the doorway where Mr. Akaashi waits with a withering glare. 

        “Maybe we could-”

        “YN,” your professor interrupts with a blank stare, handing you a paper. His long, roughened fingers brush your own as he does and the touch leaves a spark, “have a good day. Mr. Kuroo,” he directs his darkening gaze to your chatterbox companion and slowly bares his teeth. “A word, please.”

        The door slams behind you thunderously as you stumble out into the hall from the force. 

        “What the hell was that all about?” you grumble, hiking your bag higher up your shoulder before leaving the university building. 

                                ~~~

        The diner was never as wonderful as you wanted, but it paid the bills. Of course, there were always the usual creeps, who showed up at around five, and then there were the occasional newbie creeps, who always shot their shot while they had the chance. Thankfully, and you suppose not-so thankfully, you weren’t the prettiest girl on the job.

        Although they paid you mostly to drop enough dignity to wear a short skirt with an apron, you weren’t the one with the most assets to flaunt. That job was also incidentally how you met Sakura, who had plenty to show off. You had become good friends when you had the same shifts, but you had become great friends when you helped her fend off a fresh pedophile from out of town. 

        Since then, she stuck to you like white on rice whenever you clocked in, and always jabbered about the most important things in life when you had time to talk. Today’s topic: the hot, new teacher.

        “Oh my God, YN, you should have seen the way he looked at me!” She bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut excitedly, wiggling with happiness. A miniature wave of jealousy flowed through your veins at her words, but it was gone before you could question it. 

        “Really?”

        “Yes! God, he has the most beautiful eyes!” She sighed dreamily while wiping down the counter. “And that hair! Ugh, don’t you just wanna run your fingers through it?” Yes.

        “Umm, sure.” You pick up the stray menus while nodding distractedly. 

        “And don’t even get me started on his smile. He has the most amazing teeth! Did you see his teeth?!” 

        “Yep.” 

        “Oh, don’t you think he has just the most wonderful-” The bells along the top of the restaurant’s entrance chime, signalling a new visitor, and you don’t wait to scramble away from Sakura. 

        “Welcome to-” Oh.

        It’s the man from earlier, from before your class, except this time he’s missing his mask. Judging by his reaction, you’re guessing he heard your slight gasp. Even from behind the counter, you can see his blinding smile, and the almost sharp teeth that come along with it. 

        “Hey YN!” he waves and takes the stool directly in front of your awestruck form. 

        “H-hi.” Your meek response makes you grow many shades of red from your neck all the way up to your hair. With a gawking mouth, you blindly feel for a menu and lay it in front of him. 

        “Thanks!” 

        “Yeah.” Your breathing falters at the wink he throws you before scrutinizing the laminated pages before him for his dinner. It only takes a few more minutes of awkwardly gaping at him before a realization hits you. 

        “Wait!” you announce loudly, capturing the attention of the whole diner. The room silences and you tense with wide eyes before waving your hands dismissively to return the patrons to their normal chatter. It’s not quite as pleasant and rowdy as before, but it’s enough to please you. Returning your gaze to the wild haired man from before, you flinch to see he’s already watching you like a hawk. Or maybe like an owl, according to his hyper focused, expectant stare. 

        This time, you make sure to lower your voice as you whisper, “How do you know my name?” The man before you stiffens and his Adam’s apple bobs. 

        “Umm, I… I…” he avoids your eyes as his own dart around the diner nervously. “I heard your friend say it!” he exclaims with an assured nod. “Yes, yes I heard your friend say it.” He points at Sakura who is chasing down a customer’s toddler running rampant around the other tables and chairs. 

        “Okay,” you nod slowly, still scrutinizing his face with narrowed eyes, “I guess that makes sense.” 

        “Yep.” He grins complacently at you before dropping his face down onto the menu again. 

        “All right,” you repeat, bobbing your head still. “All right, so if you get to know my name, doesn’t that mean I get to know yours?” 

        “Yes!” His eyes sparkle with happiness as he practically breaks his neck to face you in a split second. “My name is Koutarou Bokuto!” He shoves a hand over the counter and you gingerly accept it, shaking it politely with your own. It causes more fireworks along your nerve endings and forces a slight huff out of you. 

        “Nice to meet you, Bokuto.” A small smile had crept onto your face during the handshake, and your gaze on him softens. 

        “Aww, c’mon, call me Koutarou!” He pouts and shoves his chin into his hand, slamming his elbow down onto the counter indignantly. You disguise a giggle behind your fingers and his dramatic facial expression lets up a bit. 

        “No way, we don’t know each other enough,” you laugh, pulling the notebook and pen out of your apron. “Now do you want to hear the specials?”

        “From you? Hell yeah!”

                                ~~~

        A couple weeks have passed since your first class, and within that time you seemed to have become a teacher’s pet. Apparently, according to Mr. Akaashi, you were the only student who actually tried or paid attention in his class. At a certain point, you wanted to correct and reassure him that no, you barely paid attention, you just really liked English and studied on your own time. But as time went on, you began to appreciate his comments on your abilities. Plus, you supposed he wasn’t exactly wrong; most people were either entranced by your professor himself or stuck in a daze while staring outside the convenient, twenty-foot high classroom windows. They were quite the aesthetic, which also made them a conducive distraction. 

        In this spanse of time, you had also received more visits from Bokuto at the diner, and you spent more time out of the classroom with Kuroo. Through those hours with them, you grew closer to both, each of them gaining the title as your friend. Lately, however, a large majority of your time was spent helping Mr. Akaashi grade papers. He had inquired you a while ago to become his student assistant, and you didn’t mind helping out. 

        When he had asked, though, was when you lost favor with just about everyone in your class. 

        “YN, could you come down here for a second?” He had just dismissed them all, and singled you out just as you began to pack your things. With a curious glance from Kuroo, you shrugged and trudged down the steps, nervously standing in front of his neatly-organized desk while students filtered out behind you. 

        “Bitch.”

        “Attention whore.”

        “What a slut.”

        You glowered at the names and slumped your shoulder, practically hugging your bag like a safety blanket at this point. Mr. Akaashi only rose from his chair and slammed the door closed after them angrily, Kuroo being one of the last to leave. 

        “I’m sorry about that.” You take in a breath and wave your hand dismissively. 

        “No, no, it’s okay. People are just stupid.” Akaashi purses his lips and nods at your words, but a muscle in his jaw twitches nonetheless.

        “All right,” he sighs, standing across from you and placing his hands on his hips. The action causes his suit jacket to shift back and the front of his pristine, white undershirt to tighten against his chest, showing off its toned muscles. You swallow at the sight and unwillingly drag your gaze back up to his. For just a second his eyes darken, but you blame it on the lighting, no matter how stable it is. 

        “Anyways,” he continues gruffly, “I wanted to congratulate you. You did well on the last assignment, and I’m proud of you.” His praise shoots deep into your stomach and you bite your lip to fight off a full-blown grin. 

        “Oh, um thanks.” You were flattered mostly, but a small part of you would mourn the way your classmates used to ignore your existence. 

        “Of course. I can also tell, by your assignments, that you’re quite ahead of the others.” God, he just never stopped. The apples of your cheeks were Rudolph red at this point. “And I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me grade some of the others’ papers if you have the time.” 

        The proposition made you pause at first. He later explained that it would only be a few hours a week after school just around the time the sun began to set, and that he would really appreciate the help. 

        … Who were you to say no? 

                                ~~~

        You should have said no. 

        In some weird way, you enjoyed scrutinizing the stupidity of your peers. Especially after the assholeish way they had been treating you recently. Even Kuroo’s essays on topics that weren’t even assigned were fun to read, as he usually would type up a five-page rant about why a certain cartoon character was an idiot, instead of about why Romeo and Juliet killed themselves. 

        However, there was a small factor in the process of helping Mr. Akaashi that you had accidentally mulled over. 

        He was hot.

        Already, there was nothing more distracting than your hot professor sitting across from you at his desk with his overcoat abandoned and his sleeve shirts rolled up to display his impressive forearm muscles. No, he made it worse, because this bastard forgot to mention he wore glasses. 

        Every few minutes, he would feel your gaze on him and glance up at you over the frames with a small smirk. The minuscule act was devastating on your focus. 

        Today was no different, although, something weird had happened. You had mistakenly walked in on him arguing over the phone with someone. 

        “You’re too stupid to be in my class. Plus, that dumbass cat is in it, and I know you won’t be able to hold yourself back around him.” Mr. Akaashi hissed into his phone. You couldn’t exactly hear the person on the other side, but something about their tone seemed… familiar. After that, he had spotted you and quickly hung up. 

        Now, you sat across from him at his desk with a chair you had pulled over from the corner of the classroom, and yawned behind your hand while reading a fellow classmate’s essay. 

        “YN?” He slowly set down the paper he had been marking with a red pen and peeked at his watch. “It is a little later than when we normally finish. Would you like me to walk you home?” 

        The offer was tempting, and although you did have self-control, your professor was really pushing it with those glasses. 

        “No, I’ll be okay.” You stand up and grab your bag, smiling shyly when he helps you put on your coat. “Thank you,” you mumble.

        “Of course.” A twinge of happiness leaks into his voice behind you and you have to glance back to make sure it’s still the same guy. He’s not grinning abnormally like you expected, but something akin to excitement glows in his eyes. 

        “Okay,” you rush out, a little flustered by his bizarre display of emotion. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” With a wave over your shoulder, you don’t even dare to look back, too afraid that you might hop on him like a wolf in heat. Something about Mr. Akaashi always made you want to stay longer than necessary, but you never did. Damn self-control.

        The sun had set hours ago, you could tell that by the way that you couldn’t even see your own feet. 

        “Goddamnit,” you groan, snatching your phone out of your pocket and turning on the flashlight. It was about a half a mile walk to your apartment, and you weren’t sure if your thirty percent battery could handle it. 

        “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss. Not only was it dark, it was also freezing, and you puff warm air on your fingers to fend off the cold. The streetlamps on the campus sidewalk buzzed and stirred with moths. A particularly cold wind nipped at your nose and threw your hair into your face. You could only spit it out with a “plugh” while you hugged yourself tighter. Crickets chirped and signalled they were the only sign of life in the area. Well, except for whatever had just snapped that twig behind you. 

        “Who’s there?” you yelped, whipping around and flaunting your flashlight in front of you. Nothing responded, and all you could see on the frosted concrete was a broken, wooden stick. There wasn’t even a footstep. By now, your whole body was trembling from fear and cold, but you kept on your way, speeding up your pace to a power walk while hastily trying to not trip over something as well. 

        A shiver rolled up your spine as a familiar feeling returned. Someone was watching you. Their gaze was tangible, like two fingertips jabbing against the back of your head. The hair on the back of your neck stood at attention as you started to jog, dismissing the possibility of a fall. 

        Adrenaline rushed through your body and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, along with the heavy breathing of someone behind you. Oh shit! 

        They were right on your tail, and you sped up into a sprint for your life. The flashlight on your phone flickered, then flickered some more when you smacked it with a frustrated “C’mon!” before finally turning off completely. 

        The university’s street lamps were long gone, as tonight you had chosen for a quicker back way so you could get to sleep earlier. Damn your need for beauty rest. 

        Your lungs pleaded for air as your legs burned. They wiggled from underneath you, now only fueled by your fight or flight hormone, and right now you were flying.  

        And then you weren’t. 

        With a horrified screech, you tripped over a stray rock on the concrete and tumbled into the grass near the sidewalk. Your stalker let out a small chuckle and straddled your screaming form. 

        “Help! Oh God, help me! Help m-mmpf!” A cloth slammed over your nostrils and mouth, and in your panicked state, you breathed. You couldn’t see the man above you, only a faint form of him, but you could tell from his weight that he was big. Well, not big. Muscular. 

        “Sshh, YN, we need to take care of you now. Just breathe it in, then we can take care of you forever.” 

        Tears pricked your eyes as you let out more muffled screams. Your heart was in a frenzied panic, and skipped a beat when your head began to grow woozy. 

        “Good job, YN.” Oh God. “You’re doing so well, darling. Just you wait.” Was that… “We’ll take care of you, and we’ll love you forever. Just like the old days.” Bokuto. 

        You were so tired, so very tired. You just wanted to sleep, to close your eyes. 

        So you did. 

                                ~~~

        Pain overtook the sides of your brain as you woke up. With a pained groan, you peeled one eye open, then another before glancing around. The room was relatively large, and you observed your surroundings as you sat up off a wood floor, wrapped only in a blanket and sitting on three couch cushions with a matching pillow. 

        The first thing you noticed was that you were in a cage. Metal bars surrounded you and grouped together so tightly you could barely fit your full forearm through. There was only about a foot of space left around your makeshift mattress, and the metal bars led all the way to the ceiling. A lockspace for a key was directly in front of you, and past it was a door to the entire room. To your left was a couch, de-cushioned for your benefit, and to your right was a TV, softly playing the day’s weather forecast. Behind you, there was a window, with the curtains pulled back to show a forest, the sky, and nothing more. Birds chirped from outside, signalling that morning had just started. 

        “What?” you whispered brokenly, scratching your already abused throat from yesterday’s screaming match. 

        “YN?” The door opened, and in an instant you stood and crashed forwards into the metal bars, reaching for whoever it was. “YN, are you awake? I brought you breakfast.” 

        The voice triggers a pain in the side of your neck, and you hiss while pressing your fingers against it. Then you whimper at the feeling. 

        There, on the side of your neck, equally away from your collar bone and your ear, were two scabbed puncture wounds about the size of pencil eraser tips. 

        “Oh my God,” you whisper, trembling with fear and pain. “What did you do to me?”

        “Good morning, my love,” Akaashi purses his lips and draws closer with a metal tray. It holds plates with pancakes, sausage, eggs, and anything else for breakfast that would normally make you drool. It’s well-made too, but too bad you feel more like hurling than anything else. 

        He sets it down and nudges it under a small space between the cell bars and the floor, just barely making it untouched into your cage. “My apologies,” he soothes with a gesture to your neck, “sometimes Bokuto just can’t help himself around you. I assure you he only tasted a drop though.” 

        With a strangled sob, you fall back to the ground and cup a hand around your bruised neck, weeping silently and hugging your knees into your chest for comfort. The sudden action causes Akaashi to jump, slamming up against your cell and clenching the bars with wide eyes. 

        “My love? Are you okay?” The door slams open behind him.

        “Well, is she awake?” The sight of him makes you moan in despair while tucking your face into your legs. Another clang against your cage is heard and you peer up to see Bokuto grabbing the bars as well, watching you with fearful eyes. 

        “What did you do to me?” you hiss angrily, tears oddly drying up in an instant. Your bloodshot eyes remain as you bare your teeth, and rage takes over you. The petrified state has passed and you’ve moved onto the next level. 

        “What the hell did you do to me?!” you shout, still pressing a hand against your neck. As if that could eliminate the mark he left. 

        Bokuto huffs and puts on a small pout, pressing his face dangerously close to the bars as he whines. “I’m so sorry, YN, I just couldn’t help myself! Next time, I promise I’ll wait until you let me!” His words ignite a flame in your chest. Your emotions are so up the roof in this moment that each one takes over on a whim.

        “‘Next time’?! ‘Let me’?!” You stand and charge the bars, reaching out to strangle both nutjobs only to smirk when they step back hastily. “I’m gonna kill you motherfuckers!”

        Both men stay silent and observe you hesitantly. Akaashi wonders if you might just go batshit enough to break out of the cage. Bokuto wonders how soon he will be able to get a taste of you again. After all, this time you taste even better than all your past reincarnates combined. It’s addicting.

        You wonder- oh fuck it.

        “Where the hell am I?!”

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