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💜💜
Hi! Already told ya but I really liked you ST headcanon❤️ could you make one with Billy (+ any other stranger things boys you want to add) about them accidentally hearing that y/n has feelings for them? It’s too cliched but such fluffy fluff is my air:>
*GIF not mine*
A/N: yeah so this took me like a month but also guess what i had to bullet point every single goddamned mfing line in this post by hand bc of tumblr's new formatting or whatever, and then i posted it on the wrong goddamn request so i had to do it twice so ig we all got probs kill me. Anyways, i kinda went overboard on this prompt bc i love billy so naturally no one else made it into the hc🤷♀️ what a shame👀 Enjoy!
Word count: 4856
Billy Hargrove:
“I don’t like him.”
Billy’s eyes fluttered open, and they glided lazily onto your form in the desk in front of him. With his hands folded behind his head and his legs crossed, feet perched on his own desktop, Billy knew the teacher had long ago given up on scolding him for his lackadaisical behavior in class, and even longer ago had he realized Billy would never put much effort in anyway.
One such happenstance that seemed to disturb the entire class, though, was how Billy had wound up there in the first place. Honors English didn’t exactly seem tailored to his, er, capabilities, to put it lightly.
However, before Billy and his family had moved to Hawkins, Indiana, he’d been quite the student (according to the principal…after you’d complained), and lost in translation was some other lame excuse that English classes in California were inherently more advanced than those of Indiana anyway.
You called bullshit. You had sworn Billy had bribed the teacher to let him remain in the class just to disrupt your existence.
It wasn’t exactly his crowd, so to speak, judging by the glasses, focused faces, and pencils scribbling around the room. Nobody in the room looked like they’d even smelled a cigarette before—well, not until Billy arrived.
But you? God, you fit in like a glove. Here was where you divided yourself from the rest of the school, from its bullies and booze and tobacco—from its corruption. You were innocent when it came to such “paraphernalia,” as you called it. You were untouched, and more importantly, you were unclaimed.
Billy was enthralled with this virtuous disposition of yours. In the beginning, his feelings for you,“little Miss Priss” as he’d grown to calling you, appalled him. Of all the girls in the school he could choose from, all the hot blondes that fawned over him in the halls and the enticing brunettes that asked him out after catching his eye for a moment, never did he think for a fucking second that it would be you.
The prude.
“Don’t like who?” Billy interjected harshly, dismissing how you and your friend flinched at his sudden interest.
“No one!” you both mumbled, avoiding his gaze and spinning around in your seats.
Billy’s brow rose at that, and the instant the bell rang, he kicked his feet off his desk and reached a hand toward you. You scooted forward in your seat the second his fingers brushed you, and Billy paused, a small ache in his chest disguising itself as irritation.
Clenching his jaw, Billy curled his fingers around the back of your desk chair and dragged you back to him, the rubber stoppers on the ends of your chair legs squealing in protest against the polished floors. The teacher glanced up from his podium at the front of the class at the sound, an unimpressed look on his face, but was otherwise unconcerned about the situation unfolding. After all, it happened almost every morning.
The teacher sighed and resumed calling roll. Billy kept one fist clasped around the back of your chair and one long leg outstretched beneath your seat, his boot situated around the nearest footing to stop you from scooting away. He leaned forward, hot breath rustling your hair as you sat stock-still, hands folded in your lap.
“YN-”
You flinched.
“-who were you talking about?” Though it was a question, he more demanded the answer than asked for it, because Billy would be damned if he had to listen to you and your friend giggle and jabber about your feelings for any guy that wasn’t him.
Just the thought of another boy in the class catching your eye in general made him feel angry.
No, maybe not angry. Sick was more like it. You weren’t his, and he knew that—fuck, he knew that all too well. He wouldn’t let it be that way for long, though.
For months he’d tried to take his mind off you and place it, force it, on someone else. But when girls at parties and in his car, in hotel rooms or in their own goddamn bedrooms couldn’t eliminate the picture of you hot-glued to the forefront of his mind—couldn’t erase your secret smile when Billy had Sharpied a dick on Mr. Morrison’s board, or your glare when he’d tugged your seat over to his for the first time, or that feeling of your hand overtop his when he’d tugged on your hair to distract you, to bring your attention back onto him—Billy knew he had to give up on getting over you.
He’d finally accepted that his only course of action was to keep your eyes on him just as his were locked on you. It was only fair.
“Nobody,” you huffed under your breath. “Why do you even care?”
The tension on Billy’s face softened, relaxed as he looked over your form appreciatively, licking his lower lip. ‘Heres’ and ‘Presents’ resounded about the pair of you as Billy released his grip on your seat’s backing, settling the same arm on his desk and reaching up a hand to twirl a strand of your hair around his finger. “Oh, no reason, babe, just making sure I’m still in your good graces is all.”
You scoffed and twisted in your seat, yanking his hand from your hair with a grip on his wrist. “Were you ever?”
Billy held your gaze while simultaneously imploring to whatever asshole wandered around in the sky that you would never release your hold on him, and he allowed his lips to curl up into a real smile. So long he went without ever letting that happen, and then you showed up and now he never wanted to stop.
Just as Billy reached up to brush a strand of hair from your forehead, the teacher reared his ugly, bald, fucking bastard head.
“YN, Billy,” Mr. Morrison called aloud, his tone on the latter’s name far more irritated, and, of course, you sat at attention, turning away from Billy and tearing your hand away from his wrist. “Pay attention, please.”
“Sorry, sir.”
And just like that, you slipped from his grasp. You ignored Billy’s every poking and prodding of his pencil in your back for the rest of class and focused rather on whatever the hell Morrison was on about, curled over your notebook with your head ducked low.
It was only when Billy sighed and sat back in his seat with crossed arms, chest tight, that he realized your friend was watching from the corner of her eye with a small grin.
Until Billy flipped her the bird, then she scoffed and looked away too.
By the end of class, Billy’s head was dropped back, mouth open and releasing soft snores. The bell ringing didn’t wake him; what did was your courteous kick to his foot in order for him to release your chair, which he did, so you could push your seat in. Then you smacked his forehead with your notebook for good measure. “Wake up, asshole, class is over.”
He grunted, swatting away the offender. “You’re so kind to me, babe,” he grumbled bitterly. “What would I do without you?”
“Considering you spend every waking minute in this class annoying me, I truly, honestly don’t know.”
Billy smirked at that, gaze latched onto your form as you walked away side-by-side with your friend, whom you seemed to be shaking your head at. Sluggishly and with a yawn, he rose to his feet, lugging his bag over his shoulder and following your path out of the classroom.
He lingered behind a few steps, stopping only to lean against a water fountain and pull a pack of Marlboros from his back jean pocket. He swiped the cigarette across his bottom lip before slotting it in the corner of his mouth and reaching for his lighter.
“That’s not what this is,” you groaned, fiddling with the combination of your locker.
Your friend hummed sarcastically, a mocking “Totally” on her lips from Billy’s distance away. He could barely hear the two of you, especially through the thick crowd of students flooding the halls, rushing to their cars and buses to get the hell out of school.
Of course, you were lagging behind to study in the library, and, of course, Billy would be there to bother you for the next half hour before “suddenly remembering” he had a date.
Fuck, he hated it. He hated himself, and how easily you wound him around your little finger. He used to wish you were cruel; some cold-blooded bitch to him so it would be so much easier to dismiss his feelings and walk away. Instead, you were kind. The only fucking person who could battle back against his attitude and yet still care about his wellbeing. How many times had you tugged a cigarette from his mouth with a small, disapproving grumble, or silently placed a water bottle on his desk when he’d enter the classroom reeling from the effects of the night before?
He'd never met anyone that was too good for him. Not since…
Fuck. He hated this.
How? How did you have that power over him? When did you ever have time to wrench your hand into his chest, break past his ribcage and grab a fistfull of his heart just to steal it out and shake it in front of him like some cruel game of fetch?
“Goddamnit,” he huffed, eyes narrowed at his lighter that sparked fruitlessly. One last click, though, and a flame bloomed in his hand.
“I swear it’s not! The guy’s an asshole. You know my grade is actually dropping in that class?” You slammed your locker closed, armfuls of textbooks hugged to your chest. “It’s because of him. Pretty soon, I’ll have an A-minus. Do you know how long it’s been since I've had an A-minus in a class?”
“Not as long as you haven’t had a D.”
You blanched, whole body flinching like you took a punch to the gut. “I-... you-... that was totally uncalled for.” Your friend snickered.
Billy, meanwhile, had grown infinitely more interested in the conversation, so much so that he had almost coughed out the smoke in his lungs. His eyebrows raised as he watched a flush rise to your cheeks.
“You’re disgusting, you know that?” You pointed at her disapprovingly, but she only laughed more boisterously.
“Oh, come on! Am I wrong?”
“Who cares about my…” you gestured at yourself wordlessly, floundering, “e-experience level? You really think that asshole is gonna solve that?”
“Easily.”
You threw your arms in the air hopelessly at your friend’s deadpan, rolling your eyes. “No! Not happening! The only possible outcome is a newfound exposure to STDs.”
“Worth it.” Her hands snapped up in surrender at your glare. “Kidding. Just kidding.”
Slowly but steadily, the halls were clearing. Billy didn’t bother trying to disguise his watchful gaze as he inhaled another cloud of smoke, pulling the cigarette from his lips to tap the ashes out in the water fountain behind him. He let out the fumes in one long stream as he leaned a hip against the metal edge of the fountain, settling his other hand into a front pocket on his blue jeans.
Billy waited, as he always did, like a predator ready to swoop in on his prey the second it was alone. Two blue eyes stay cemented on your form like a promise, a pledge of devotion. It was the yearning from afar that pained him the most, certainly because what excuse could he ever fabricate to explain himself? You hadn’t called his name—-your gaze hadn’t even accidently washed over him. You’d done nothing to gain his attention. You had done nothing but be, and for that, Billy was undeniably, absolutely addicted.
He needed you.
Billy massaged two fingers at his temple, taking another drag with half-lidded eyes.
“You better be.” You sighed, slamming your locker closed and clenching the straps of your backpack in your hands. “The day I actually throw myself into the arms of that aggravating jerk is the day I toss all of my self-respect in the trash.”
It’s me. It has to be.
She’s talking about-
“He’s not that bad if you think about it. Even you yourself said-”
“I know what I said,” you floundered, shoving a finger against her lips. “But—you know what—if we both ignore that I ever said it, then maybe, just maybe, my feelings will fade away, and we can both look back at my confession one day and laugh.” You pull your hand away from her, posing your hands on your hips righteously. “Laugh while knowing that my feelings for him were ridiculous and dumb and stupid and childish, and that I was just acting like a regular teenager with a little, stupid crush on some dumb boy-”
“You’re in love with Billy, aren’t you?” your friend deadpanned.
Your face fell, and you pouted. “Yeah, fine, you’re right, I’ve got it bad.”
-Me.
The cigarette fell from his lips, landing on the floor soundlessly. Billy stood at attention, his hand falling out of his pocket as the other dropped from his head. Love. YN is-
She’s in love with me.
All color in his cheeks disappeared, just as all the air in his chest. He couldn’t breathe, but in a good way, like the burn of surfacing from underwater for too long—like he was seconds away from the first gasp of fresh, sweet oxygen, after suffocating for so long.
He wanted this—fuck, he needed this. Who gave a damn if he deserved it or not, he was going to have you. You and the warmth of your hands; your smile and your laugh, all of your blushes and your tears.
All of it. Every single last ounce, he wanted it all.
He could fucking have it, too.
She’s in love with me.
Your friend grinned all too smugly. “You’re finally admitting it out loud, huh? Look at you, growing up right before my eyes. How does it feel?”
“How does what feel?” you grumbled, still curled in on yourself, cheeks dusted pink.
“Your first real love confession to a boy.” She dropped both of her hands on your shoulders as your brows furrowed.
“Does it really count if he’s not even here?”
“Nope,” she beamed, spinning you around in her grip. “Good thing he is!”
For a moment longer, you were still visibly confused at her words. The halls had long cleared, and the only sights and noises that now filled them were your wide eyes and quick gasp.
“Billy.” His name slipped from your lips like an accident, tumbling out without a second thought and landing in the allconsuming silence of the hallway with a dull thud.
He couldn't help it. God, he couldn’t fucking help it.
The trembling that took hold of him, the shiver that began in the tips of his fingers and transferred up the length of his spine—he hated it because he had to hate it, but deep down he loved it more than anything else.
Because you were just so fucking perfect.
Your eyes were glassy, like any second you were going to burst into tears. There was a small quiver of your lower lip, and, like a tidal wave, the overwhelming urge to feel that same quiver against his own lips, his skin, crashed into him.
He really, really couldn’t help it. It was second nature.
A corner of his mouth lifted, and his eyes glinted with condescension. “Is that right?” he hummed, amused. “Are you in love with me, YN?”
The pounding in his chest, the pregnant pause as he waited, the subtle, dizzying fog that began to flood his mind, all of it he ignored. He had to hear it. Say it again.
But he couldn’t help it, and the more your glistening eyes studied his face, tears threatening to overflow at the waterline, the more he could feel that sweet burn in his lungs turn painful once more.
And it hurt so much worse when you twisted out of your friend’s hold and bolted.
Your tennis shoes squeaked in protest against the vinyl composition tile, down the hallway and clear through the glass doors of Hawkins High, never turning back no matter how many times your friend called your name.
When the doors slammed shut, a gust of wind followed and ruffled the stray curl against Billy’s forehead. The smirk had long fallen from his face.
Your friend bit the inside of her cheek beside him, obviously searching for words of any kind to explain your reaction. “She’s just-… well, you kind of…” She huffed, adjusting her backpack straps against her shoulders. “Look, she’ll be back on Monday. She wouldn’t skip school, even out of embarrassment like that.” She threw him a sidelong glance. “Though, maybe next time you don’t respond like that, right?”
Billy’s face hardened, and he pulled the pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. He slotted a smoke in the corner of his lips. “Who gives a shit?”
Your friend pursed her lips, observing as he struggled once more with his lighter. He gripped it with white knuckles, and the butt of his cigarette was crushed between his teeth. “Right,” she nodded with a sigh. “See you Monday.” Her footsteps trailed down the hall and away.
When the doors shut after her too, Billy spat out the smoke, hurling his lighter down the hallway with bared teeth. “FUCK!”
Monday. Fucking Monday?
Billy wrenched two hands in his hair, his nostrils flaring as he gnawed on his lips. It hurt, it all fucking hurt. Everything.
She left, she fucking left. She ran away from you, and you know why too—it’s because you’re so weak. Why the hell would she ever want to be with someone like you? How could she ever be in love with-
Billy paused, his hands falling from his scalp, his shoulders rolling back. His head raised, slowly.
Fine, you could have until Monday. But on that day, he was getting some fucking answers.
The weekend didn’t pass by quick enough, despite Billy not remembering most of it. He recalled the party he attended that Friday night, the keg and the shots and what must have been some girl trying her best to come onto him. He remembered shoving her off one minute with a snarl and thundering towards his car, and then the next he was waking up in his own bed. He remembered working out and drinking Saturday and Sunday away, and he remembered waking up Monday with a healing bruise on his cheek, his father none too impressed that he’d drunk all the beer in the house in the span of two days.
But who fucking cared, right?
Who gave a shit when his Camaro came squealing into the school parking lot, stopped parallel between three spots? Who gave a shit when he ambled Hawkins High halfway through the school day, his shirt unbuttoned down his chest, his cologne wafting after him everywhere he went?
And who gave a shit when he arrived in Mr. Morrison’s class, early for the first time in the six months he’d been in it, and planted himself in his seat, his legs kicked up on his desk, his arms folded up behind his head, blue eyes carefully watching the doorway.
Because, yeah, you’d ran away from him. But you’ve been doing that for so long now, dancing out of his reach each time he wanted you, twisting out of his grip each time he almost had you. This was the first time you’d ever escaped him knowingly.
Finally, he knew you loved him, and once more you got away.
Of course, your little game of cat and mouse had to end like this—it had to end with him catching you.
And catch you he did.
God, you were so fucking beautiful, it actually made him ache. Your friend was shoving you in through the classroom door, two hands braced against your back despite you trying to wriggle away like a loose fish.
Your face was red, completely, utterly red, like you’d just come back from running a marathon. Your eyes were darting around frantically, from the desks to the ceiling, and he knew you were actually considering your chances of escaping through an air vent.
She’s in love with me.
He didn’t care. Suddenly, at the sight of you, he just didn’t fucking care anymore. He didn’t care that you ran, about the turmoil you’d caused him, about the misery that had been his weekend away from you.
He couldn’t care for anything less because the second your eyes landed on him in that classroom and you let out the softest little squeal, all he knew was you, you, you.
So fucking cute.
Billy kicked his feet off his desk, reaching forward and pulling out your chair before patting the seat backing suggestively. Like clockwork, his smirk reformed on his face, a small glimmer of patronizing amusement in his eyes.
“Come on, babe,” he simpered at you. “Don’t be shy. Take a seat.”
Come back to me. I need you.
Your eyes widened, and you squirmed in her grip once more. “Nope, I can’t do this.”
“Hush up and go.” One big shove from your friend and you were stumbling forward, scrambling to regain your balance.
Billy silently urged you closer, gesturing down at your seat with his hands the closer you shuffled toward him. As he did, he drank in the sight of you, flushed and skittish, stumbling toward him like a baby deer on new, unsteady legs. He noticed the darkened skin under your eyes, most likely matching his own, though he doubted you and him were sleepless for the same reasons.
When you ground to a halt in front of him, you gulped, your attention everywhere but on his face.
“Hey, YN,” he practically purred, hands itching to reach out to you.
“Hello, Billy,” you squeaked, dropping into your seat and gripping the bottom in an effort to slide the chair forward. Very quickly, though, you discovered Billy’s boot was already perched around the chair’s footing, and one hand had an iron grip on its back.
“Going somewhere?”
“I guess not.”
Billy hummed. “I think you have something to say to me.”
“Umm nope, don’t think so.”
“Oh, come on, no need to be shy. I just wanna hear you say it,” he prompted, as his other hand glided up, curling a strand of your hair around his finger. “Tell me how you feel about me, YN.”
“I think you’re a jerk,” you whispered, turning back slightly to fix him with a flimsy glare.
“Besides that. Tell me what you told me Friday, before you ran.” He tugged at the strand of hair, his brows raised expectantly.
“I didn’t mean it-”
“Don’t-” Billy gritted his teeth, his hand leaving your hair to grip your chin, turning you to face him. “Don’t say that.” He watched as your eyes grew damp again, all soft and delicate and one small admonition away from bursting into tears.
You were so fragile, so small in his eyes. It often made him wonder why he ever thought he should be the one you should be with. How could he ever hold you in his arms without tarnishing you?
So badly, he thought he wanted to have you just to dirty you, take away that purity that seemed to hover over your head, but there were some days where he knew that all he wanted from you was to make him believe he could hold on to something so clean.
He wanted it. So, so bad, he wanted whatever you would offer him. He wanted to hear those words straight from your lips.
Your cheeks were so hot, he itched to cradle them in his palms and absorb some of that warmth. He wanted to wipe away all of the tentativeness with the pads of his fingers and leave behind the breathlessness, the pure affection that was its source.
“You just want to laugh at me,” you whispered, your voice almost breaking. “You’re just going to tease me about it like you do with everything else.” You swept a hand underneath your eyes. “You’re so cruel, Billy.”
“Stop-” he hissed and shook his head, gritting his teeth. “You don’t get to say that. Not after all I’ve ever wanted is for you to love me back, you don’t get to fucking say that.” Billy seized your wrist, tugging you closer. “I know what I am. I know what I do.”
His pride was wilting away the more he spoke to you, the longer you didn’t pull away from him, and his mind pounded in indignation. At what point did you turn him into a complete lovesick fool, and was it before or after you first smiled at him?
If your wide-eyed look was any indication of your shock at his feelings, he wondered just how baffled you would be once you discovered his willingness to bend over backwards at your every plea. You would never take advantage of him, and he knew that, but the tendrils of doubt still crawled up his spine at the thought of leaving himself so vulnerable for you.
“But you, YN?” He traced his eyes over your face, huffing softly. “In all my life, I’ve never wanted something more.”
You stared at him, open mouthed. Your gaze was so surprised, so innocent that it actually frustrated him. How could you have not seen? How could you be so blind?
“So don’t you fucking say that it’s cruel of me, or selfish, or some other bullshit.”
You gasped when he tugged you closer by the wrist, his other hand encompassing your cheek.
“Just say it again.”
His eyes darted over your face, desperate.
“Please.”
Your eyebrows twitched up at that, and your gaze grew tender, raking over his face slowly as if committing to memory. You paused at his lips, watching as they parted and pursed against one another.
You’d worn him down. You’d exhausted him, mentally and physically. Of all the months he’d waited for your confession like this, he never thought the last few moments would be the most excruciating of them all. What more did you want from him? Already, he could feel the swell of anger at his throat ready to be unleashed, to lash out at you until you were in steady tears again just so he knew exactly what you were feeling once more. Billy wanted—no, needed—some part of you to be under his thumb, just so he could pretend, if even for a second, that your emotions for him were still in his range of sway.
Instead, his heart stuttered when the hand in his grip wormed away and pulled off the other that was at your cheek. You splayed his hand out on the surface of his desk, then you intertwined your fingers with his and squeezed. Your teeth worried at your bottom lip as you ducked your head.
“I’m in love with you, Billy.”
His eyelids fluttered shut, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Finally. Fucking Finally.
You were his, completely.
He couldn’t help it. He really couldn’t.
His hand found your chin, and he tipped your head up, gaining your attention.
“I fucking knew it,” he simpered, entirely too smug. And when you tried to scramble away, panicked and scared, his hand found the back of your neck and tugged you close, his lips landing on yours.
In his hold, you grew lax, only your hand tensing around his. Your lips didn’t move against his, seemingly too tentative and inexperienced to truly indulge yourself.
Billy grinned into the kiss, far more pleased than anyone should be at the knowledge that he could leave marks on you in so many more ways than one. When he pulled away, he quickly cupped your face with a hand, thumbing at your lips in search of the remainder of his own warmth.
“Library, after school?” he muttered, his mouth still curved.
“Only if you don’t have a date afterwards,” you grumbled. You could sass him all you wanted, and Billy couldn’t care less. He could hear your breathlessness and feel the heat in your cheeks, and pride flared in him knowingly.
“Well, I might-”
“Are you guys done yet? ’Cause that was kinda gross.” Your friend dropped into the seat beside you, her nose wrinkled. You straightened up, unraveling yourself from Billy’s hold and nodding your head.
“Yep, yeah, definitely all done. Totally.”
And just like that, you were gone. Billy bristled at your instantaneous lack of touch and threw a snarl at your friend, who only shrugged.
Then she held out a hand, brows raised expectantly.
“You owe me.”
Billy rolled his eyes, fishing his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans and rifling through it, passing her a ten dollar bill.
“Keep the change.”
“With pleasure.”
No context just oreo. <33
Oop😳
Oreos really do make the best pets tho😌😌
Ps he’s laying on my stomach rn sos I can’t breathe
I love your yandere headcanons! I was wondering if you could do yandere headcanons for Ushijima from Haikyuu; they could be an extension of that one Ushijima scenario you did where he’s kidnapped the reader!
*GIF not mine*
A/N: Goddamnit, I know this could be better, but I’m glad you’ve liked the others so far! This one’s a bit rambly, but I rly hope it was what you’re looking for. Enjoy! (Side note: Farmer Ushijima is canon, dang nabbit 😤)
Word count: 1236
I know y’all ain’t surprised, but Ushijima’s kind of oblivious as to how to go about all of this after he finds out he’s in love.
Just gonna say, he totally brought you up to the team, talking about how he likes you a lot and stuff. Shirabu’s like “ask her on a date” and Tendou’s like “bro just kidnap her.”
So he kidnaps you.
The only reason Ushijima would have to go as far as kidnapping you is if he’s truly whipped. We’re talking like “kill everyone around you” whipped.
He doesn’t really murder people, of course. That’s too much time spent away from you and volleyball.
And yeah sure, you’re right up there with volleyball when it comes to priorities in his life, but Ushijima really hates to compare. There are times where he’ll leave you locked up in the apartment while he goes out to play a game, but there are also times where he will skip practice just to hold you in his arms a bit longer.
Let’s see, how do I say this…? He thinks you’re okay with this.
Honestly! We’ve all seen how Ushijima handles Oikawa. He strongly believes Oikawa would be happier at Shiratorizawa, so of course he believes that as soon as you live in his home, you’re happy as a clam.
‘Cause let’s be honest-- as the love of your life, Ushijima knows what’s best for you.
All right, let’s do a lil recap: Ushijima falls for you, kidnaps you, and keeps you in his apartment without ever allowing you to leave.
In the first week you’re in his home, you’re free to roam wherever, but the doors and windows are heavily locked up.
By the second week you’re in his house, you’re tied up in your own room, shackled to the bed and only allowed to travel as far as your personal bathroom. After ten failed escape-attempts, Ushijima almost lost his cool, so he figured keeping you in one place would keep his mind at ease.
This is a known fact, but yandere Ushijima is possessive af. Before he kidnapped you, he would almost explode at the way you interacted with other people. God, you used to act like you didn’t know you were his. It pissed him off so much.
Speaking of, let’s talk about punishments.
Spankings
Spankings
Spankings
… yeah🤷♀️
Goddamn, it’s true. He makes you count them out loud and everything because he just loves the way your voice rises in pitch the longer it drags on.
He’s not cruel, though. Part of him is human and does realize that you’ll need time for recovery, so he keeps lotion on hand just for that occasion. You’re still squirming across his lap while he does so, but after one last *WHAM* to dat ass, you know to keep still.
Yeah, so uh… you can’t sit for a few days after that, and holy hot damn does that shit leave marks.
There are times where Ushijima just passes you through the halls in his apartment and he’ll just stop you with his hands on your hips and lift up his shirt that he makes you wear. Slowly, he’ll run his fingers over the large, hand-shaped splotches of purple, red, and blue, allowing a small smile to grow on his face.
“I like seeing my marks on you, beautiful.”
When you’re especially rowdy, Ushijima has no qualms about tying you to his bed and leaving you there for a few days. At nights, he’ll curl up around you and go to sleep, hugging you like his favorite pillow. In the mornings, he’s not afraid to get naked in front of you, changing without a care in the world while you curse yourself for actually being attracted to such a horrible person.
Most days, Ushijima likes to feed you by hand. I’m serious, y’all. He googled it online and found that “feeding each other food is a sign of love and trust.”
“Interesting.”
After that, he’ll track you down in the house and straddle you right in the middle of your chest so you can’t move. There’s a plate of food in one hand and chopsticks in the other, and he’ll just hold out a bite of food to you and be like “Open.”
Part of him likes the idea that this is what normal couples do, but deep down Ushijima knows he loves this because he likes when you have to depend on him for even the most basic things. Little stuff like that makes him feel like he’s the one giving your life purpose.
And shit, does he like that you might believe your life revolves around him. It’s all about reciprocity with this dude.
Umm okay, lemme just switch this back to headcanons for a sec:
He doesn’t seem it, but Ushijima’s a very physical lover. Hand-holding, hugging, kissing, you name it. More than anything, he’s just addicted to the feeling of you against him.
He doesn’t tell you he loves you often. Some days, he won’t even talk to you, maybe just little greetings when he comes home from school and such.
If you ever accidentally hurt yourself in the house, Ushijima won’t go bonkers like you might hope. Instead, he just shakes his head and takes you to the bathroom, silently grumbling that you should be more careful while he helps you wrap the injury.
If I’m honest, I do think Ushijima is the type of guy to force himself on you. Yep, you read right. While it doesn’t happen often because his libido isn’t that wild, if he wants you, he gets you. Of course, there are days where you’re more whiny and wanting than others, but the days that you’re not, he’ll just chalk up to you being as silent in bed as he is.
Holy fuck, could you imagine those grunts??
He’s not the most sexually demanding of all yanderes, but he still has needs like any other guy his age. Ushijima will never use sex as a punishment, though. I really don’t think he’s not the type that’ll “fuck you into submission.” That’s for more horny yanderes.
Instead, I think Ushijima treasures the time he does it with you. With this one, it’s “making love,” honey. Like I said earlier, he’s very physical with you. Of course, it’ll be rough and hard, but you are still the love of his life. His cum dumpster? Maybe some days, but his beautiful lover all the same.
With sex, it’s either for stress relief or wanting to feel you. Really, it probably only happens like once a month, tho.
Ushijima doesn’t ask for much in return when he shows you his love. The rules with him are quite simple.
1. If he wants to touch you, let him.
2. Don’t escape. He will find you.
This big boi just wants to love you and only you, and he expects you to feel the same. Really though, he understands if it’ll take you some time.
Just… don’t test his patience too much, yeah? You’ve gotta start a family soon so the kids can tend to the farm🤠
*GIF not mine*
Summary: At the Shiratorizawa vs Karasuno game, it breaks your heart to see Sugawara get so excited by Kiyoko’s touch. After a long day of the silent treatment, your boyfriend must show you just how much more you affect him than any other girl around.
A/N: Honestly, this ended up better than I thought. Sorry it took me a while, and I’m not gonna lie, the other requests are probably gonna take just as long. My life is just a little sucky right now, so please have some patience. Still, hope you like it!
Word count: 2923
Sugawara and Kiyoko were close-- they were friends, after all. But seeing him blush after she held his hands during a volleyball game was too much.
The sight of it made your stomach churn. His face was completely red as he jerked his hands away with a shout before bobbing and weaving the others.
“It’s mine! Get your own!”
You could hear him from all the way in the stands, and there was no way the cameras hadn’t caught some of it.
The game against Shiratorizawa was possibly your boyfriend’s last game ever, and he had begged and begged you to come and watch. Of course, you had agreed without much coaxing, but now, all you wanted to do was go home.
Deep in your chest, your heart twinged. When was the last time Sugwara had ever been so aggressive over your touch like that? You couldn’t remember. Part of you felt alienated the instant it happened.
They’re just friends.
Kiyoko’s not the kind of girl to do that.
Koushi would never hurt me like that.
I’m not jealous. I’m not jealous. I’m not…
Was there really a point in lying to yourself? No, the answer is no.
The bitter taste of betrayal slapped you in the face the moment Sugawara had fought so hard to hide Kiyoko’s contact from another’s touch. Maybe your touch just wasn’t as precious to him.
Maybe… maybe Sugawara actually wanted Kiyoko. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had found her more attractive over you. The girl could wear shoes made of dog dookie and boys would still kiss the floor beneath her feet.
But your sweet, loyal boyfriend was the last person you ever expected to jump on that bandwagon when he was in a relationship.
It hurt. Plain and simple. Your heart clenched and your stomach tightened and all you wanted was space, space, space.
So when Sugawara jogged onto the court for the fifth and final set of what could’ve been his last game, he glanced into the stands with an excited grin to see… no one.
“Where’s YN?”
~~~
The next day at school was hard, but ignoring Sugawara was even harder. Though he wasn’t in your class as you were only a second year, it seemed like he was everywhere, all at once.
Every corner you turned, he was there. Each class you passed, he was inside, asking a question you already knew the answer to.
I’m right here, I just don’t want you to see me.
A majority of it was just pure pettiness, but the last little inkling was fear. After avoiding him for so long, you still weren’t sure you could keep it together once he finally caught up to you.
Last night, your phone was blown up with texts, every one of them inquisitive.
“Did you hear we won our game?”
“Where did you go?”
“Are you gonna answer me?”
“Did something happen?”
“Are you okay?”
You didn’t answer a single one of them, instead choosing the age-old tradition of a silent treatment.
Lunch was the hardest. You always ate with Sugawara out in the courtyard under your favorite tree. Your back would rest against his chest and you would feed him part of your lunch, him always returning the favor.
So you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty while you nibbled on a chip, watching from your desk in a classroom on the second level of the school as Sugawara bolted out into the courtyard. His gray head of hair hung low as he made his way back inside the second he noticed you weren’t there. He shoved his hands into his pockets and lowered his gaze, observing his shoes as he scuffed them with every step.
You weren’t an evil bitch-- why would seeing him like that not hurt you? It was just… you couldn’t forget his look of pure awe as Kiyoko touched him, like he had just been blessed by a goddess.
You knew you were nothing special. No matter how many times Sugawara told you that was wrong, you just knew it. But a part of you still wanted to believe that Sugawara had meant what he said all those times.
~~~
“YN, open up!”
A fist pounded on your door with hefty conviction. It hadn’t backed down for the past twenty minutes, and honestly, it seemed like it never would.
“I know you’re home, YN! Please, just answer the door!”
With parents still at work, you were all alone at the house. There were no school projects or assignments, no homework or work-work; it was one of those few days in a year you would use to go to your boyfriend’s house and “study.”
“I’m not leaving until you let me in, YN!”
After ignoring him all day at school, you knew you wouldn’t be off the hook for long. Sugawara always worried about you like this. There wasn’t a day gone by that you two hadn’t at least contacted each other via phone, so there was no doubt he knew something was up.
But you stayed put on the living room couch, wrapped up in a blanket and hugging yourself while trying to convince yourself the tears were just allergies.
“YN!”
There was a saddened whine in his voice, like a hint of desperation.
You wondered if he was hurting like you. Would he be as jealous if you acted that way with somebody else? Would it pain him to see you blush and value another boy’s touch? Would he even care?
Or were you just being childish?
In every relationship lies one secret insecurity. One person’s more attractive, another’s skinnier, another’s taller. Another may be smarter or another may have a more stable life. There’s always a possible hamartia. And yours?
Sugawara was older than you.
He never treated you like a child, though he had that habit. His friend group was all older, and yours, of course, was younger.
It was only a year, but in high school, that made all the difference. Girls his age, in his class, always spending time around him were bound to go after him at some point. At least, that’s what you always assumed. You’ve never told Sugawara any of it-- of your fears that there was another girl who he talked to that one day might just peel him right from your grasp-- you didn’t want him to think you were being childishly insecure.
And so, seeing Sugawara with Kiyoko made your volcano of unease erupt.
“YN, please!”
But you didn’t want to lose him. God, you really didn’t want to let him go. He was kind and loving and made you feel things you’d never felt before.
“Hey.”
So you slithered out of your nest of blankets and opened the door.
In a word, he looked disheveled. His hair stuck up in every which way, unkempt tufts barely catching the light of your porch. His hand, still frozen in the air to keep knocking, shook in place. But what most rattled you to your core was his face.
He looked… scared. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought a murderer was after him. The cold of what was eight p.m. in March had bitten his cheeks and nose to a nice pink color. Angry lines framed worried, hazel eyes that widened at the sight of you. Or more, the tear streaks you had failed to hide.
“YN,” he sounded winded, “what happened?”
Now. Right now was the moment you had been dreading. Unloading all of your personal insecurities onto another person was quite possibly the hardest thing to do, mostly because you knew nothing could be done about it.
“I…” The words were trapped, caught in your throat in a nasty combination of crap you could only hack up in the form of a sob. “I, um.” And that’s all you could say.
For a solid two minutes, Sugawara waited patiently for nothing. His brows rose in a gesture of take your time, but after seeing your lips stay zipped instead of opening and closing with the possibility of words, he must’ve gotten the hint.
He nodded then pursed his lips. “Okay then. Why don’t we… well, come with me. I want to show you something.”
Without another word, he snagged your hand and tugged you out of your house before closing the door.
“Maybe you can tell me what’s up once we’re there.”
~~~
The drive wasn’t long, but by the time it was over, Sugawara’s headlights and the moon were the only lights around.
The local park sign greeted you once he helped you out of his car, closing the door for you before grabbing your hand and leading you away.
You were surprised at how warm his fingers were when they intertwined with your own, flexing against yours out of habit while Sugawara tugged you around.
“There,” he muttered under his breath, leading you right to the thickest oak tree around. The trees were few and far between in the clearing where you two settled, and just barely in the distance could you see the plastic playground of the city.
“Come on.” After taking a seat against the rough trunk, he pulled you down into his lap with a soft smile. Like always, your back leaned into his front, which worked as a heater in the slight breeze of the night. His hands wound around your waist and hugged you flush against him with not even an inch to spare. Both of your guys' legs lay straight out, his just outside your own but pushing them close enough together that one almost sat on top of the other.
Instinctively, your hands relaxed down onto his thighs, and you finally let yourself relax back into his form.
The silence was nice and peaceful. For a moment, you forgot why he had even brought you there. When you truly let go and wound your arms up behind Sugawara’s neck, he decided to break it.
“So… do you want to talk about it?”
Not really, but you knew you had to. Tonight, you just wanted this undisturbed moment with him. You just wanted to listen to the trees rustle and the crickets chirp, all with him by your side. But you knew that if you wanted more moments like this, you had to start talking.
“Koushi,” you sighed and shook your head, “yesterday, at… at the game, right?”
“Yeah?”
“You and Kiyoko got really, um, really close.” You could feel him suck in a breath, but he let it out slowly before humming for you to continue.
“I think I see where this is going.”
You weren’t sure what to make of that response, so you kept speaking. “You held hands and-- God, I feel so stupid, but it made me kind of… jealous.”
“And that’s why you ignored me all day?”
Out loud, it sounded ridiculous-- ridiculous and foolish. So why did the memory of them still hurt?
“Yeah. Basically.”
You wanted to say more. You wanted to explode and confess, just let loose of all the feelings you’ve kept rammed up for months of being with him, but you just didn’t want to run the risk of losing him.
You loved him. At least, you think you did. It’s only been so many months, but when he wasn’t around, you missed him, and when he was around, your heart raced with excitement. Seeing him with Kiyoko almost made it look like things were one-sided.
“Kiyoko and I are just friends.”
A log broke away from the dam in your chest, increasing your need to let loose.
“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was tight, and there was no chance Sugawara hadn’t heard it. His fingers started dancing along your stomach, slipping up your shirt only so far as the skin below your belly button before splaying along the hot flesh.
“YN, I know you’re still not telling me something. Please, you can talk to me. I’m your boyfriend, and I’m here for you.”
The level of comfort those words held, Sugawara had no idea. Your heart fluttered at just their meaning. Someone was there for you, and they wanted to listen.
So you spoke.
“I just,” you didn’t know why, but your eyes began to burn with tears, “I know I’m not that girl, you know? The one that everybody would love to talk to and stops and stares at. The one that people would kill to touch or smell or something. And I know that’s weird or selfish, but God, I just hated seeing you with a girl like that.”
“YN-”
“Kiyoko’s perfect,” you continued, throat constricting the more you choked out. “I know that. Everyone loves her and wants her, but…” The first salty trail paved its way down your cheek. “Koushi, I want to be that girl sometimes. It’s gonna sound vain, but I really wanted to be that girl to you. But maybe I needed to be knocked down a peg like that.”
“YN!” His voice rose and cracked, and his forehead dropped to your shoulder. “Please, please don’t think those things about yourself. Please.” With an open-mouthed kiss to your neck, he shook his head. “I don’t want the girl I love thinking these things. I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy. You must not see it, but you’re that girl to me all the time.”
Another kiss, this one sloppier as he bit back his own tears.
“Koushi-”
“I hate making a fool of myself in front of you.” Kiss. “I hate how I still feel like a little schoolboy whenever I see you.” Kiss. “Fuck, I mean, my hands shake and my heart flutters and I just know my damn palms are sweating but I still want to hold you.” Kiss. “And YN, when I hold you, I can’t even think straight.” His entire back has curled in over your form like a shield. “My heart just pounds like crazy and I feel so stupid because I keep thinking that we’ve been together for so long and I still get so excited to see you, like a damn toddler on Christmas.”
The two hands under your shirt travel to your sides so Sugawara can turn you in his lap until you’re facing him head on. Then they peel away and cup your face, fingers stroking the skin while Sugawara stares at you with what could only be described as pure love in his eyes.
Just the sight of it robs the air from your chest. Breathless couldn’t describe it, but a rush of elation could. Your stomach twinged with excitement as you swallowed up the unfiltered allegiance Sugawara was swearing to you with his soft, hazel eyes.
“YN, I can’t believe you thought anybody else could make me feel something more than you.” A thumb brushes over your lips while he shakes his head. “You must be blind.”
When your hands reach up to tangle into his hair, he only allows one of them to complete the trip. The other, meanwhile, is caught by the wrist. Sugawara leads your hand to his chest, pressing your palm flat against the space hiding his heart.
“Can you feel it?” You do. His heart is pounding, much like your own. The speed and force of each thump under your palm has you leaning your cheek into his other hand. “There’s that smile I love so much.” His thumb runs over your upturned lips once more, and you can’t help but blush.
“Koushi.”
“Hmm?” His eyes are still locked on your lips, but they slam shut once you pull him into a kiss. A moan escapes his throat at the feeling. It’s passionate and thankful and loving. It washes your worries away and has you confront the warm, soft truth: you’re in love with him, and that’s what matters. You’re urged to separate only for a truly desperate need of air, and even then the distance between you barely grows.
His hot breath warms your cheeks as he dips his forehead against yours, dropping his hands to wrap your legs around his waist. Fingers massage the flesh of your thighs as he keeps his eyes closed, lips searching for yours once again only to be stopped by a giggle. His eyes flash open at the sound, crinkling at the corners when his mouth curls into a confused smile.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” In all honesty, you feel like you're on cloud nine, riding a wave of pure bliss. “It’s just…” your hand pats against his chest, rumpling the white t-shirt he’s wearing. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Maybe we should take a little break.”
Sugawara chuckles and leans back against the tree, ducking your face into the crook between his neck and his shoulder with a hand in your hair.
“Trust me, princess. When you’re nearby, it always beats this fast.”
*GIF not mine*
Summary: After getting into a scuffle with a villain, you get knocked unconscious and retain minor injuries. At least you thought they were minor. But according to the destructive blond who had blasted his way into your hospital room, your brain might be a little more damaged than you first thought.
A/N: You get amnesia. That’s it, that’s the story. Really cute, really sad. I hope it’s as good as I think it is… either way, enjoy!
Word count: 2960
Rain dribbled outside your hospital window while you stared in wonder at the needle lodged in your hand. Wait, was it wonder? Nope, you were wrong; it was agitation. Every now and then you would move to grab your glass of water on the table next to you or take a look at your phone, only to hiss in pain at the sudden jab. You get used to it, my ass, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes at the nurse’s words. You couldn’t even move to, ehm, unwedge the paper-thin hospital gown you were forced to wear.
“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, and the nurse standing in the corner of your room with a clipboard finally peered up, if only to serve you a dirty look. You twitched your eyebrows in response and she heaved a large sigh, pushing up off the counter she had been leaning back on.
Setting down the clipboard on your legs, she refilled your water glass while occasionally glancing up at you. “I know this sucks, but you hit your head pretty hard, so we need to monitor you in case there’s any serious damage,” she insisted, but the pity in her eyes told you differently. Had they already found the damage? Handing you the cup, she reached for the clipboard once more, preparing to ask the same questions you had answered about a million times by now.
“Nope,” you stopped her, “I’ve already told you one too many times before. It’s March thirty-first, my name is YN YLN, I go to U.A. High School, and I’m tired of these stupid questions. I remember everything that happened, so just let me go home!” you pleaded.
“YN,” she sighed again, “I’m sorry, I truly am, but this is for your well-being. The symptoms of serious brain damage can take hours to show, and these precautionary steps need to be taken for your health.” Your hands dropped down on the hospital bed beside you and you groaned in exasperation.
“You’ve gotta be kidding meee-” your guttural whining was interrupted by a loud bang down the hall from your door. Both you and the nurse looked at each other with frightened eyes. You jumped into action, pulling out your needle and ignoring the liquid that splashed everywhere while you hopped out of bed, but your companion was faster, more prepared.
“Sit back down,” she ordered seriously. Her eyes were wide and intimidating, and this was the one time you were actually scared enough to listen. Slowly, you lowered yourself back down on the now-soaked bed, but sat on the edge so as to be ready for anything. Hesitantly, the nurse tiptoed over to the door, and you held your breath in anticipation.
The storm arrived and the calm ended when your door literally blasted open and a wave of heat hit you. Choking on the fumes, you barely noticed your nurse get slammed into the wall next to the room’s entrance thanks to the explosion. A figure walked through the smoke and you stood, preparing to fight even though your knees wobbled and your hands shook.
“Dammit dumbass, what the hell were you thinking?!” The enraged voice made your racing heart skip, and your defensive stance faltered. “Your stupid ass could have gotten killed, then what?! What am I supposed to do when you’re dead?!” The nonsensical shouting was soon joined by the appearance of a blonde guy stepping closer and closer to your trembling form. His brows were furrowed and his teeth were bared in a snarl. Who is this dickhead? You resisted the urge to gasp at his words, knowing you would choke on the hot air around you anyways.
“Umm, I think you have the wrong room, dude,” you mumbled with a pointless shrug, suddenly finding the speckled floor fascinating. You braced for impact, maybe another explosion, but it never came.
“What is your dumbass on about?” His tone was quieter, and now he seemed more concerned than irate. Surprised at the abrupt mood shift, you glanced back up at his face. Oh wow, his eyes are gorgeous. Maybe crimson was your new favorite color, but this guy’s bitter attitude was kind of ruining it for you.
“Hey! Who are you calling a dumbass, dumbass?” you retorted lamely. It was all you could come up with, and to be honest, this guy was giving you quite the headache. Either way, that seemed to enliven the eruptive blond once more.
“What are you, stupid? It’s me, idiot, and now’s not the time to joke. Tell me what happened.” Okay, this boy and his repetitiveness was getting on your nerves. Glancing up at the ceiling, you prayed for grace and patience while dealing with your unwelcome visitor. After exhaling loudly into his face, you shouldered past him and trudged over to your unconscious nurse through the rubble he had caused.
“Look jerkwad, like I’ve said, you’ve got the wrong room.” Using your super strength, you picked her up and lugged her over to your own bed, unceremoniously dropping her before dusting off your hands and swinging back around to face the guy. “And I think you’ve caused enough trouble in here. You should probably leave.” You nodded your head to the door just in case he had forgotten where the destroyed exit was.
“YN, I don’t think you’re okay.” He brushes off your words, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the door. “We need to find someone to help you.” Clenching your jaw at his ignorance, you ripped your hand away from his grasp.
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, you’ve got the wrong girl! Now leave.” You harshly point to the door and glare at him, losing your patience. The blond’s hands twitched at his sides and he looked about ready to blow his top, his maroon orbs lit like a bonfire. Then, it was almost as if someone had stolen the spine right out of him in an instant. Slowly unfurling his fists, he slumped his shoulders and turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone. Just... promise me you’ll get some help, YN.” You blanched at his surrender, but he didn’t wait for your response. Promptly, he whipped around and sauntered out of the smoky room, his hands stuffed indignantly in his pockets. Letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, you bit your lip. You almost felt bad, but you didn’t know why. His words had been insulting and had stung your heart, not to mention he had KOed your nurse. Overall, the guy seemed… just terrible. So why did you suddenly want his presence back?
###
It took a couple more days in the hospital and another week locked in your own home before you were finally allowed to return to school.
Bouncing up and down in your seat on the subway, you couldn’t keep the giddy grin off your face. You were just so excited to return to class and train instead of lazing around your house all day. Also, there was an inkling in the back of your mind that you would see someone there. Someone you missed, but couldn’t remember for the life of you.
Shrugging it off, you plugged in your earbuds and strutted to the beats of your music all the way to the entrance of your classroom.
Once there, you beamed are the sight of the oversized door, pushing it open and stepping inside like it was the entrance to an elegant ball.
“YN, you’re back!” the voices of your classmates harmonized as they jumped up at your arrival.
“We heard you got whammied,” Kaminari spoke up first with a smirk. You scoffed.
“Of course not. I got like thirty blows in before he finally took a swing. It just so happened to catch me in a bad spot is all,” you waved off his suggestion.
“So what happened, then?” Mina spoke up.
“Well, I saw a villain trying to hurt some innocent kids, so I called the cops, right? But they weren’t showing up fast enough, so I-” you were interrupted by the loud bang of the door whipping open. The chattering around the room died of instantly, and all your classmates’ attention was drawn to whoever had just arrived behind you.
Confused, you turned around to see what had caused such a reaction, only to see the asshole from a week ago. “Ugh, you’re here too?” you melodramatically whined.
The blonde didn’t reply, but he seemed to wince at your comment. His silence baffled you, but you figured maybe he was only okay with cussing people out in private. He walked past you and completely dismissed your presence.
Bewildered, you observe as your classmates silently moved out of his way so he could take his seat on the far side of the room. They had all watched your one-sided interaction with perplexed eyes, and you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Okay, why are you guys acting so weird now?” you prompt them, only to widen your eyes at the numerous gasps you received. Overdramatic much?
“YN, did you two break up?” Uraraka asked, watching you sadly.
“Break up? Us two? What are you talking about? By the way, who is that guy?” Your numerous questions only served to confuse your audience even more, and they all grew somber and awkward, avoiding your gaze. You almost spontaneously combusted when Kaminari began to casually whistle while looking away, but someone finally spoke up.
“YN,” Iida’s matter-of-fact tone was gentler than usual when he stated, “it seems you have amnesia.”
Aww man, you missed these guys.
Ignoring the baffled stares, you began to giggle, short little burst bursts of chortles before slowly easing into all-out howls as you held your stomach from the pain. Your laughter prompted the others to join you, chuckling lightly while still exchanging confused glances with each other.
Wiping the tears from your eyes, you snickered. “Nice joke guys. But seriously, who’s the new kid?”
A loud crash boomed after your statement and you peered over to see the blond guy stepping out of his chair and stomping towards you. Tensing up at his glare, you choked out a sigh of relief after he thankfully bulldozed right past you.
You scoffed uncomfortably, releasing another anxious chuckle. “Okay, what’s up with that guy?” You pointed your thumb behind you jokingly, but your face fell when you only received pitying gazes in response.
###
Bakugou sat out on the entrance steps of the school, picking up pebbles and blasting them away with his quirk.
Miserable, that’s what he was. He didn’t want to cry, that was for sure. He was pissed off and it was raining. Yeah, it’s just raining out, he tried to assure himself.
It didn’t work.
Eyes burning and teeth clenching, the top U.A. student folded his arms over his knees and pressed his face into them, hissing curses at himself.
“This is stupid. Why is she so stupid? Why did that dumbass have to forget everything?” he scolded angrily, digging his nails into the fabric of his pants.
Just as he began to see stars behind his eyelids, a gentle hand patted his shoulder. Bakugou jerked his head up violently, baring his teeth and glaring at the intruder. The act dwindled into a mere whimper when he soon identified the sight.
“H-hey,” you stammered, your eyes looking at anything but him. Pulling your hand away, you slowly lowered yourself down next to him and flattened out your skirt.
Bakugou glanced back down at his knees and scooted away from you slightly.
Glowering at the action, you tried not to take it too much to heart. Instinctively, you began to pick at the skin on your hands before finally finding the courage to speak.
“Look,” you mumbled, “umm, my- our friends told me about… you know, us, and how we were, um, together and stuff.”
You glanced over at him, but only received a grunt in response, so you looked back down and continued, scratching at your hands even harder.
“I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry I don’t remember… you know, us. From what they told me, it sounded like you- erhm, we were really happy together.”
Bakugou didn’t say a word, but he ducked his head even farther down, biting his lip and clenching his eyes shut.
Uh oh, if he thought that was bad then here comes the kicker.
“So, look, I don’t know you enough for us to get back together, and to be honest, you seem kind of like a jerk— sorry, that was mean. A-anyways, I just wanted to say that… um, maybe we could try being friends again, I guess.” Apparently the suggestion wasn’t good enough for the explosive blond, because he went off.
“Are you kidding me?! Friends?! You only want to be friends again?!” Bakugou’s voice was tight and rushed, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Come on YN! We’ve been through so much together. Please, just remember me!”
The desperation in his pleas made you tear up, and words lodged themselves in your throat.
“I’m sorry! I don’t know how to!” you exclaim. You began to sniffle as tears trailed down your face. This boy, this poor boy was heartbroken over a relationship that you don’t even remember. Your heart, your head, everything began to hurt, and when you looked over at him once more, the pain only increased.
He was leaning over towards you, one hand paused in your direction while the other supported him on the rough concrete below. His eyes were puffy and wet, but he appeared frustrated.
“Please.” His voice cracked mid-whisper, and he stared directly into your eyes, into your soul.
Shaking your head dejectedly, you placed both your hands on his shoulders and pulled him towards you. The hug took both your breaths away, but neither of you minded as he crushed you into his chest.
Crying silently for the forgotten boy, you mumbled into his neck, “I’m so, so sorry. I just don’t know how.”
You felt his jaw spasm against your collarbone, and he tore his head away to look you in the eyes harshly.
His nostrils flared, and under his breath he muttered, “Please don’t hit me.”
Before you could question him, he placed his hand on the back of your neck and pushed your lips onto his.
It felt right. So so right... No wait, you didn’t know him!
Suddenly growing shocked by his actions, your eyes widened as you tried to push him away with your hands on his chest, but he never let up. He kept your lips pressed hard against his own while he held you in place, two hands cupping your cheeks.
At the last second, you decided to use your strength to resist, but then something hits you. Like a brain freeze, you tensed up at the sudden wave of pressure directly behind your eyes.
Memories. There were memories, hundreds of them, all playing like a movie in your head.
The first day you met, when you asked him to spar. He had cackled haughtily in your face as a response, only to holler in surprise when you swiped his leg out from under him. “Oh, now it’s on,” he had snarled up at you from the ground.
Then the first time he had asked you out. It had been Valentine's Day, and he had thrown a bouquet of flowers at you sitting peacefully at your desk. They hit you in the face harshly while he shouted with a red face, “We’re going to the movies tonight!”
Then your first kiss. During training you had socked him right in the face. “Ow, you son of a bitch!” You covered your mouth while gasping, and then began to giggle.
“Sorry, you want me to kiss it better?” you suggested while snickering.
“Actually, yes.” He tugged you in swiftly as your lips collided, albeit a little brutally from the initial force.
And now, as you pulled away from him with closed eyes and a dazed smile at the memories, you couldn't help but scoff at his brash words from when he had first seen you hurt.
Opening your eyes to smack him in the chest, he let out a less-than-manly shriek at the sudden change in sensations before glaring at you harshly, his eyes still puffy and red.
“What the hell was that for?” he barked at you, lip curled back into a vicious snarl.
“Who the hell do you think you are? Why did you barge into my hospital room and think it was a good idea to call me a dumbass first thing? You knew I got hit in the head, how could you-”
Your scolding is abruptly stopped when Bakugou tugs you back into his familiar, strong arms.
You release a breathless foof as all the oxygen in you chest is forced right back out into the atmosphere once more. Smiling and laughing under your breath at his needy skinship, you gently patted his back while letting your lips brush against his ear.
“I’m glad you’re back.” His voice was muffled in your shirt, but you still understood and kept rubbing his back soothingly.
After a few minutes of sitting like that, he pulls away. His face is still locked in a signature frown, but there’s a livelier glint in his eyes. Still, Bakugou seems to have an irresistible urge perfectly in that moment to chastise you. “But I swear to God, if you ever get hurt and forget about me ever again, I will blast your ass to outer space.”
“Wow, that didn’t take long,” you rolled your eyes, smiling adoringly.
“Hey,” he rested his hand on your cheek, his maroon eyes hardened and dark, “I’m serious.”
“I know,” you whisper back, laying your hand over his own to keep him in place. “I promise I’ll be more careful from now on. I swear.” Pressing another kiss to his lips, he smirked into it before pulling away with mischievous eyes and standing, lending you a hand to rise as well.
“Good, you better… dumbass.”
“Hey!”
In "Just a Little Confession", was there any truth to what Kenma said or was he just jealous?
It was actually a little bit of both.
As estranged as their relationship grew to be, Kenma still cared about YN and never wanted to see her heartbroken, hence why it was difficult for him to see her move on so quickly after she confessed to him.
In that story, Kenma has definitely seen Kuroo use women and toss them aside like nobody’s business, but at a certain point I think he began to see YN was different to Kuroo, and thus he panicked and tried to scare her away.
It’s the thirsting on Hisoka even tho I’ve never actually watched hunter x hunter for me🤡
Can I Please be added to tag me for reborn?
Yep, I got u🤩
*GIF not mine*
Summary: You don’t need a mate right now; you’ve got more important things, like revenge, on your mind. But the Alpha King needs a mate to take his throne, and now he’s come to town to take you.
A/N: okay, tell me if I’m wrong but like y’all have read this plot eighty bajillion times on Wattpad before, right? Ehh, I literally thought of it in the shower and it might be some sort of stealing from some unknown author I read back when I was a young, young Oreosmama, but I’m still gonna post it for now bc I like it. I channeled my inner Wattpad writer for this too so I hope you enjoy!
Word count: 4244
Someone should have told the Alpha King that lining up one thousand-something girls shoulder to shoulder in ninety degree weather was a mistake waiting to happen.
“Achoo!”
Your sneeze caught the attention--and glares--of the six or so girls lined up on either side of you, each with their own individual reactions. The girl directly to your left, for instance, smiled pityingly and passed you a kleenex from a package sitting in her purse just beside her feet.
“I get allergies too,” she shrugged, “always good to keep some handy, don’t you think?” Mustering the most sincere grin you could, you nodded in thanks and accepted the tissue.
Sweat dripped down your temple and slid down far enough to disappear under the color of your windbreaker, a piece of clothing that had made you the outcast of the day evidently.
You didn’t care. You wore it for a reason.
As more pollen tickled your nose, you leaned forward just a bit to see how far away the man traveling down the line was. Good, you thought, I still have enough time.
Though he was just a tiny speck from your place somewhere in the middle-end range of the line, you could feel the tension he was inflicting on his audience.
The Alpha King. Like all his fathers before him, he was traveling from town to town in search of his predestined mate so he could finally take his place on the throne. He was the ripe age of twenty and, according to all the times you had seen him on the news, he was quite the looker.
Though technically illegitimate because his father and mother had produced him before marriage, the Alpha King of this century was especially distinctive for an entirely different reason--he was hot.
With blond hair that always seemed to be ruffled and crimson irises that could singe off your eyebrows, Katsuki Bakugou was a young king known to all. Even grandmothers, though they disapproved of his less-than mannerly attitude, still swooned at his natural beauty.
Every time you saw him on TV when you were younger, he would always have that permanent scowl etched on his face. And, like most other girls at the time, you wished you could have been the one to turn it upside down.
Then you grew up and realized he didn’t really matter. At least not to you.
He was just another alpha, albeit the one of the largest pack in the world. Unlike most packs, the Bakugous’ numbers reached into the hundred millions and had towns scattered all over the nation. They were known to be untouchable, and it was an honor to be a part of them.
“God, could this go any slower?” Your eyebrows rose in surprise at the groan of the girl next to you. Though she seemed even less interested in the event happening around her with gum smacking and eyes rolling, it seemed her family had at least convinced--or maybe forced--her into a dress that made her blend well with the other girls.
Well, at least you weren’t entirely alone in your dreading of this process.
The process itself wasn’t particularly a rager but it was a sacred tradition that the Bakugou pack insisted on continuing. This was how the Luna Queen was found, wherever she was.
You just wished she’d show up soon so you could get this show on the road.
Bakugou Katsuki, however, seemed to be taking his sweet time sniffing down the line of women in the open field of your hometown. Parents and other not-of-age people were forced to stay in their homes so as to not interfere with this careful procedure, and that was the one thing you were thankful for--the one thing you were looking forward to.
Now, you just had to wait for the bodyguard of your particular clump of women to step away so the king could smell each of you individually. Mates’ scents are supposed to stand out in crowds of millions, but after one particular sick incident so many centuries ago where a certain Alpha King ended up with a stuffy nose, they decided to leave the kings unescorted as they walked along the line.
And so here you were, waiting ever so patiently for Mr. Rhinoceros-neck to step back and away to join the rest of his fellow betas as they guarded the king from a calculated distance of seventy feet.
But, of course, Bakugou Katsuki was taking his sweet time.
Part of you almost pitied the girls beside you, obviously making the mistake of not wearing sunscreen. You memorized the day's exact weather report and were determined to not let even a sunburn stop you from your mission.
Though, maybe a reapplication wouldn’t hurt since you seemed to be sweating off your first layer of SPF 60. Perhaps the windbreaker you zipped over a thick black sweatshirt was a bit of overkill but it was all part of your plot.
Heat strokes be damned--you were not screwing up today.
Twenty minutes crawled by at a snail’s pace and in that time, the scent of deodorant and perfume reached its crescendo. Girls in skin-tight, above-the-knee dresses reapplied just a touch of antiperspirant with ease as the Alpha King made his way closer and closer to your gaggle of a hundred or so women. The other girls who had gone with more modest skirts and dressy blouses, however, had a bit more trouble tackling the B.O. issue.
The sun reached its peak in the sky and you checked your phone to make sure you hadn’t counted wrong.
Nope, no mistakes here. Four hours you’d been standing in that line with Miss Smacks-her-gum on your right and Lady Kleenex on your left. Smacks-her-gum had made the mistake of not wearing sweatproof mascara but you weren’t going to tell her that anytime soon. Trapped in a black leather jacket over a poofy black skirt that tickled your own legs beneath their leggings, she looked about two seconds from blowing her top or passing out--you hoped you weren’t going to be around to see either.
“Ooh, he’s getting closer,” Kleenex squeaked out, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger out of habit. “Damn, he’s so cute.” She glanced back at you with a nervous smile. “I really do wish I was his mate but, God, what are the odds, right?”
“Yeah,” you breathed out with a friendly smile, waiting until she returned her attention to the direction of the Alpha King, for she would be the first one he sniffed of your little trio, before dropping the smile entirely, “what are the odds.”
Now!
Rhinoceros-neck glanced up and down your row one more time from thirty feet away to make sure no one had left before leaving his post, a sure sign that the group of bodyguard betas wasn’t too far behind.
If even one of them saw you, the plan would be ruined. You had to make this quick.
Unzipping your windbreaker, you shrugged it off your shoulders and pulled it free of you entirely, feeling for the binder clips in the front pocket as you did so. Then you zipped it back up and shoved a scrunched wrist under each clip.
“What are you doing?” The girl in the leather jacket seemed less pissed off than you expected, that was until you tried to attach the binder clip to her jacket-shoulder.
“Don’t mind me, I just can’t stick around long,” you mumbled, too busy to expand on just how dumb your plan was with attaching the other clip to Kleenex girl’s shoulder cutouts of her blouse.
Yes, perhaps it was all based on the slim-to-none chance you had of lucking out so stupidly that an entire group of betas and an Alpha King literally overlooked your existence, but it was your only chance of escaping scot free. All you needed was for it to look like a person was there.
You’d done your research, and you’d done it well. You knew Bakugou Katsuki was a pissy man, but you also knew he never made eye contact with women while he went down his lines. Part of it was out of respect as due the tradition’s requirements, but part of it was to make the entire process faster. Women were beautiful all over, but finding your true mate depended on all of your senses, not just one.
If his peripheral vision was as useless as you hoped, you could make a clear getaway and go on your true mission. As fun as it was to participate in the Alpha King’s police lineup of one-thousand women for four hours, you had other things to do with your life.
Like finding that deadbeat father of yours.
You stepped back and inspected your windbreaker, fluffing it out here and there while the two girls it was attached to tried to crane their necks back far enough to ask you what the hell was happening.
You didn’t respond to their questions, instead kicking off the flats you’d allowed your mom to shove on your feet and placing them in the exact place they’d been for the last two hours, easily found due to the matted down grass. Attached to the backpack you’d brought that sat behind you like all other girls had done with their purses and such were a pair of combat boots, the laces strung around the straps of the black bag.
All dark colors, all practically invisible in the forest you planned on escaping through.
Past your group of one hundred girls was another group of the same number before all the women of the town finally ran out and the edge of the farm’s field met a forest. The owner of the wheat field that had been so viciously attacking your nose for the better part of your morning had been paid handsomely for his participation in this town and century’s search of the Luna Queen, just as his ancestors had been.
The forest was thick and ran for miles far and wide, while on the complete other side of the field sat the rest of the town waiting for the Alpha King’s verdict.
Queen or no Queen? they all wondered.
Shit, did I grab that extra protein bar? you wondered.
The grass was wonderfully cool on your sock-covered feet as you untied your boots, glancing up once or twice and going on your tiptoes to see how fast the Alpha King was moving at this point. Surely he was growing tired of this just as you wished he’d take even more time.
A blond head bobbed past fifty or so girls down, proving yourself correct. He was going faster.
“Shit,” you hissed, kneeling down to lace up the boots, only to catch a faceful of dirt courtesy of Leather Girl’s gothic boots.
“What the hell are you doing down there?” she spat, Kleenex girl nodding with the same curiosity.
“I’m gonna go for a stroll.” You returned your gaze to the boots, lacing the last one up faster before a blond or a boot could stop you.
“What about the king?”
“What about him?” You rose to your feet and swung the backpack’s straps over your shoulders, tightening them for a mad dash you prayed wouldn’t have to happen.
“Why are you just up and leaving now? You could be caught and get in serious trouble,” Kleenex piped up innocently. Her eyes were glimmering with concern, an emotion you knew was much undeserved for someone like yourself about to do something so stupid.
“No I won’t,” you shook your head and gestured to the jacket clipped between the two girls. You adjusted the clips so the windbreaker didn’t slump as much, but it was almost an impossible task due to the eight-inch difference between the two of them. “If you guys keep that up, we’ll all survive this. Just play it cool.”
Both pairs of eyes on you bulged as you traveled toward the woods instead of the town where they thought you were leaving to. The girl in the leather jacket caught your hand in the nick of time, tugging you back hard enough that you were face to face with both girls. The movement behind their backs distracted other girls in line whose attention you really didn’t need at this point so you yanked your hand away with a glare.
A flare of guilt lit up your stomach at the worry in both girls’ gazes, but you couldn’t stop the question escaping your lips. “What do you want?”
“What if they catch you?”
“They won’t.”
Leather Jacket gave you a deadpan look. “What if they notice you’re gone?”
“I’ll be gone by then, hopefully,” you stared down at the hand still reaching for your wrist for emphasis.
“Well, what about your family?”
The question made you tense and your eyes flashed. “They’ll be fine,” you gritted out. You were doing this for them after all, and all of it was explained in the neatly folded letter still in the pocket of your windbreaker.
They would understand. They’d have to.
“Fine then,” Leather Jacket shrugged, forcing a strand of black hair back behind her ear. “Just be safe.”
Finally, something you wanted--yet didn’t exactly expect, especially from her--to hear.
Kleenex nodded in agreement and you smiled.
“Thanks.”
And then you left, crouching down and slipping behind the backs of a hundred girls you’d gone to school with for twelve years.
~~~
Katsuki kept his jaw clenched and his eyes locked on the grass below his shoes as he made his way down the third line that week. Hundredth line that month, with many more to come.
Kirishima and Kaminari snickered in the group behind him as he tripped on a sudden hole in the dirt, causing him to cuss and throw a glare back at them. “Zip it, you two.”
Both men straightened up and saluted him with pursed lips. “Yes sir.”
And then they broke off into laughter once more.
Katsuki’s lip curled back and he refrained from growling, knowing that he could scare any of the girls to his left and then he’d get an earful from his parents.
Hands shoved into his pockets, he strutted past each and every girl without even catching a whiff of something he even minded at that point. Instead, it was all the same. Flowery scents here and tropically scents there made his mind reel with a full-fledged headache. This town was bigger than the ones he was used to visiting, but a town was more preferable than a city any day--the populations were always too high for him to ever escape a scenting line in a short six hours.
Plus, quaint towns like this had his most favored landscape: small shops and cottages behind him with a wide forest surrounding, too thick to even see the sunrise and yet so clear that you could count the stars.
Not that he’d ever tell anyone he liked that.
Although, deep down he thought that if he ever did find his mate, a town like this was where he’d like to settle down after running the pack for long enough. Letting his wolf free in miles and miles of forest was a dream, and reminded him of his pack’s headquarters thousands of miles away from here.
At least I can see the end of the line now, he thought, reaching up a single hand to massage the back of his neck.
He estimated he’d be done in this town in another ten minutes. Then maybe he could convince his father’s Beta to let him roam through the forest for even just an hour before moving on.
Just a little faster now.
Of all the parts of scenting lines, his favorite part was definitely finishing them.
So close… so close.
Now, he could see the last girl--and the anxious smile on her face. Dear God, that poor thing thought she was the one. She definitely wasn’t the first, and he had to thank that no girl had jumped like the ones in the previous towns had.
All towns and cities had their weirdos, but Katsuki was especially pleased to find out that this town was astoundingly normal.
Well, maybe except for that one girl that was very obviously trying to make a break for it to the forest.
Well that’s a new one. Maybe he-
Mate.
The sweet scent of sugared pine and apple trees wafted into his nose, mixing with a slight pinch of spiced cinnamon. His eyes almost rolled back into his head and yet he couldn’t take them off the form sprinting behind the other girls.
Gasps filled his ears as Katsuki’s body stood at attention. But if that girl was his mate then how could he smell her…?
One look to his left and he saw a single maroon windbreaker, attached via what looked like binder clips to the clothing of the two women on either side of an empty space. Even a pair of shoes sat on the floor where his mate had stood, and wind forced the jacket to flutter in midair.
She ran away.
Something in Katsuki’s chest sank as he growled in frustration, ripping the windbreaker away from between the two girls and ignoring how they flinched before he pressed it to his nose, inhaling as much of the scent as he could.
Intoxicating.
He could feel his mind sharpen as he stepped away from the group of girls, turning his head once more to search for his mate.
A black form disappeared behind a collection of trees hundreds of feet away but he heard the crack of her stepping on a twig as clear as day.
“Kirishima,” he barked and the redhead appeared at his side. “Take these two into custody. They might know something.”
“Bakugou, did you find her?”
He kept his gaze locked on the trees.
“Yes, but take the other men with you. I want to find her alone.”
“But what if-”
“No,” he spat, blazing eyes almost setting Kirishima aflame, “I’m doing it alone. If even one of you gets near her or gets in my way, he’s not making it out of the forest alive.”
Kirishima nodded in understanding and whistled to the others, grabbing both girls as they whimpered in fear while waiting for better restraints.
Katsuki still kept his eyes locked on the forest edge, just where his mate had disappeared. It was only then that he noticed his hands were wringing the jacket of life, twisting it until it appeared to be tight as a spring waiting to uncoil.
Pressing his lips firm against one another, he unraveled the jacket, searching for something, anything that might give him a clue as to who you were and why you did what you did.
At last, he found a letter in the front right pocket, addressed to your own mother.
Dear Mom,
I’m going after him. I can’t let what he did to you slide, even if you say it was for the best.
With love,
YN
YN. At least now he had a name.
And it was perfect.
YN, your mate was going to find you whether you wanted him to or not.
And he wasn’t going to let you go.
~~~
There was no way you had escaped as smoothly as you thought you did. Even though you felt like every breath you took sounded like a trumpet announcing your location, you never stopped running, staying crouched beneath the groups of women who didn’t even bother to turn back and watch the show.
It wasn’t too graceful either. Your thighs were on fire due to, you know, you having never done this before. After a solid two minutes, you felt your calves spasm and you almost gave up there, but the forest’s edge was so close… so close.
When the floor finally transitioned from grass to grass mixed with soil and animal feces, you almost jumped for joy, sprinting so hard that your legs almost gave out when you passed a hefty group of trees that you felt wide enough to hide you.
Your ears perked at a series of gasps that rang in the clearing behind you and it was then that you knew your escape was far from over.
Maybe there actually was a law against escaping the Searching for Luna Queens ceremony--you’d googled it thoroughly just to make sure you weren’t officially a criminal on the run until after you located your father. But hey, maybe Google had lied to you.
Then you were screwed.
Your mother and stepfather, you could deal with.
The entirety of the Alpha King’s pack… hmm, not so much.
So you kept running, wincing every once in a while that you stepped over a cracked twig. Sweat stuck your hair to your skin and slickened your legs entirely, the midday heat combined with a run through the humid forest finally catching up to you.
A small rest wouldn’t hurt. Maybe twenty minutes had passed, thirty if you were really lucky. You settled for a small stump in somewhat of a clearing. Here, at least, the branches of the trees were only swinging so low that they just brushed the top of your head, as opposed to when they thwapped you in the face while you ran.
Zipping open your backpack, you grabbed the first water bottle you saw, not even bothering to search for the cap after you tore it off and tossed it away before gulping down three-quarters of the bottle.
Your heart finally seemed to slow as you took in gasps of air, batting away and choking on the occasional gnat. Your hair felt greasy and sweaty while the rest of your body was just entirely moist--you’d never been so disgusting before.
But you’d also never run away from a group of thirteen grown men before so you chalked it up to it being amateur hour.
From your seat on the stump, you honed in on your surroundings, trying to figure out which direction to go from there.
Birds chirped to your left (possibly South), but you heard the small babblings of a creek to your right (also possibly South). There was nothing coming from in front of you but flies buzzing and the occasional deer scraping its antlers against a tree, and meanwhile behind you there was a-
SHIT!
You jumped out of your seat on the stump but it was already too late. Just as you lunged ten feet out a weight tackled you from behind and forced you onto the ground, their heavier weight and superior strength keeping you immobile.
Shoulda known it was illegal.
But only then after your heart stopped trying to rip itself away from your body did you feel it. Sparks. Little zaps of pure pleasure tracing up and down your spine and forcing an involuntary shiver out of you.
And the smell, oh God the smell. Like your favorite fruits sprinkled with just a touch of vanilla that had you biting back a moan.
Mate.
Parts of you were happy and others were sad. Happy you found your mate, but sad he had almost just tackled you and forced your face into a pile of bear dung.
This was not a great first meeting.
“Are you gonna get off me anytime soon?” you wheezed out, spitting out spare bits of dirt that had flown into your mouth mid-tackle.
Thank God you packed a toothbrush.
“Only if you promise not to run.” Jesus fuck this man needed to chill with his voice. It washed over you and warmed up the pit of your stomach like no other, every husk and lilt of his words making you almost quiver in delight.
“Yep,” you coughed out, voice surprisingly steady for someone being suffocated mentally and physically, “pretty sure I’ve learned my lesson. You’re good.”
After a slow, somewhat trembling exhale, the man finally got off you and rose to his feet, instead choosing to drop into a squat beside your head with both arms relaxing on his knees.
Very strong, muscular looking arms on very strong, muscular looking knees. And things. And chest. And everything.
Dear God, maybe you actually hit the jackpot for once.
A large hand reached towards your face, not particularly gentle as he brushed the hair from your face, though you could tell he was trying by his hesitancy. His hand paused right as it reached your hair and after a deep breath, he pushed it back up behind your ear and you could see the rest of him at last.
Oh holy shit.
“Ba-akugou Katsuki.”
“YN.”
The Alpha King was your mate.
heyy i’ve been reading ur fic for a good while now and i have to say i just constantly find myself coming back to it. you write with clarity (seems simple but it’s hard to find writing as well done as urs) and emote really well and your fics are always soooo entertaining to boot! idk if that last one is the right word but bdjdjdjf i just love ur fics. thank u sm for sharing them :’)
Awww thank you so much! It’s been a while since I’ve gotten a message as kind as yours, and I really appreciate it!! I’m glad you like my stories🥰🥰
18+, minors dnrI write sometimes ig maybe, we’ll see🫠Masterlist . . . . . . Side BlogRequests? What requests?
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