I Don't Know If You Know Yet...I Hate To Be The One To Tell You....but....i Really Really Really Really

Just wanna let you know I fucking LOVE your writing so much. All your yan HQ stuff? GOOD SHIT. Super creative and I love how the mystery of the "TBC" style open ending creates more intrigue and suspense. Also your yans are distinct and i appriciate that so much. Also your Gojo soulmate? A+ 10/10 Would shoot an arrow at that bastard again and give him a lil kith👌

THANK U SM🥰🥰 I’m so glad you like the yandere aus cuz I’ve rly enjoyed writing them!! And that scene from the Gojo story was a legit fever dream I had😂

This message was so sweet! It’s been a while since I’ve read such nice words abt my writing; u def made my day!!💜

Hi, part six of reborn was awsome. Any idea when part seven will come out?

Tee hee SO

It’s looking like I’ll (write and) post the next part sometime before Monday. Obviously, that’s when school starts again, so there won’t be another chapter after that for a while🙃

BUT this chapter is planned to “wrap up” a portion of the story. More parts will come after of course, but there’s always the option of straight up stopping right at that point.

I have no idea exactly when part 7 is coming out; it all just depends on when the inspo to write hits👉👈😐

AND I promise I won’t leave y’all on a cliffhanger for the next three or four months

...maybe😏

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

Kidnapping Fan Reader (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

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

Word count: 3814

Bakugou Katsuki:

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

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

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

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

At first, Bakugou was confused. What a dumbass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surely you wanted this too, then.

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

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

“Ground Zero?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please don’t.” 

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

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

It only takes a year to break you. 

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

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

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

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

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

Totally worth it.

Todoroki Shouto:

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s all like, “Hmm, makes sense.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What.

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

Todoroki had to stop this. 

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

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

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

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

Todoroki loved it.

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t like that, YN.”

“L-like what?”

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

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

And now… you just didn’t know. 

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

What was he going on about?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Midoriya Izuku: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh, how embarrassing.

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

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

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

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

Now, it’s become more of an obsession. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Deku just knew he had to tease you more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where? Where is she? Where’s YN? 

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

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

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

The outcome is certainly not disappointing. 

Oh my God, he just winked at me. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you here?”

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

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

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

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

“YN, please don’t make me do this.” 

“Do what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were so tired…

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

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

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

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

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

Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 2~

(Supernatural/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

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

A/N: Here’s another part (finally:)) Lowkey proud of this mf. My god, I’m so happy y’all like this series, and I seriously hope you enjoy this part!

Tag List: @burntcilantro​  @alloverbutterflies​  @translucentthoughts​  @zaejia​  @momothepeachgirl <-this tag doesn’t work😔 @black-veil-chemicalz​  @miigoth​  

Word count: 6200

        “Let me go.”

        “No.”

        “Let me go.”

        “No.”

        You had been stuck in that damned cage for two weeks now. The blood red walls of the room closed in on you more and more every day, and the only sources of light you could treasure came through the window and played on the television outside of your cell. Since they had captured you, they fed you every morning, midday and night, on a schedule no different from a zoo animal. You no longer held the fuzzy feelings for them that you’d had before they kidnapped you, but for some reason you couldn’t hate them. Besides, they haven’t hurt you yet, so it wasn’t likely they ever would. 

        “Let me go.” Akaashi sighed and threw you a dirty look while locking your cage. 

        “Dear God YN, for the last time, we’re not letting you out!” His calm voice never raised more than necessary, but the heightened brow he gave you spoke enough of a threat. Never gonna happen. 

        After tucking the key into his pocket, he tugged on the bars to test if it was actually locked before taking a seat on the new, leather addition to the living room they trapped you in. You figured since your makeshift bed was made of the cushions from the old couch, they kind of had to adjust to the room’s new centerpiece. You. Anyways, Akaashi had just returned you from a bathroom break he and Bokuto would occasionally allow you. It was a minuscule amount of freedom you got to be away from their sight, but it was limited to five minutes each, excluding emergencies. 

        “Geez, Mr. Grumpypants. I just asked a little question.” He narrowed his blue eyes at you and you sneered back.

        If they were going to drive you crazy, you would do the same. 

        The only thing keeping you from truly going insane was the TV you could never reach. It wasn’t much for size, but it drawled peacefully with the news channel. It was the only way you could see the outside world, other than the room’s window, which only showed a forest anyway. You figured you were in the life-sucking, second-floor living room of some well-kept but forgotten mansion.

        Nothing decorated the maroon walls aside from one wilted, framed painting. It was dusty and wrinkled, but held three figures: you and your kidnappers. Dressed in an elegant, royal purple ball gown, you sat in what appeared to be a throne while each man stood behind your bare shoulders, Akaashi on the left and Bokuto on the right. The former wore his signature frown while his erratic companion had a wild grin. You, on the other hand, only smirked, but something akin to pure joy gleamed in your eyes. Maybe it was the lighting. 

        You constantly reamed the freakshows for getting a professional painting done of you and them in love, but they always dismissed the topic, saying it was “for another time.”

        Like hell it was. 

        “Hey dumbass,” you suddenly piped up, dropping cross-legged onto your “bed” and leaning back against the bars to relax. Akaashi only hummed in response, but his eyes had been on you the whole time you were deep in thought. “How did you douche canoes get a picture like that?” Your insults grew worse the more you stayed in captivity. 

        “You’ll find out soon, my love.”

        “Oh come on, how long is ‘soon’?”

        “Soon.” You roll your eyes. 

        “All right then. Can I be let out soon?” A muscle in his jaw twitches at the question while his eyes slowly narrow at you, leading you to throw in the towel. 

        “Fine, fine,” you rush out, avoiding his burning gaze. “Can I at least take a bath? I smell like century-old roadkill.” You sniff instinctively at your words and immediately regret the action. 

        Akaashi, however, seems to adore your idea. 

        “Oh, my YN,” he coos, standing and approaching your cell with a rare show of deviousness glinting in his eyes. “We would love to bathe you.” 

        You blanch and gulp at the suggestion, nostrils flaring. 

        “On second thought, I think I’ll keep stewing.” 

        Akaashi hums and draws closer to the bars, leaning against them with a smirk. “Are you sure, YN?” The way he says your name makes your heart skip a beat, the low murmur barely audible from your place on the ground.

        “Positive,” you snarl, remembering that now matter how attractive the man before you was, he was also your kidnapper. After you open your mouth to spout another retort, Akaashi suddenly pulls back just as Bokuto barges into the room, hands loaded with a tray of food. 

        “My love! I made you breakfas-” His ecstatic smile drops in an instant. As soon as his eyes lock on you, they change. Their color shifts from his normal gold to an intimidating red. Blood red. The sight wasn’t familiar, but it struck fear into your heart like no other, and you couldn’t help but tremble under his… depraved gaze. Something about it exuded desperation and hunger.

        You swallow nervously and his eyes dart to your throat, watching the act. A low rumble begins to echo through the bare room as Bokuto approaches you ever so slowly. The tense atmosphere of the room grows thicker as you wait for an attack, frozen in your position on the floor. 

        His lips peel back, and just as you catch a glimpse of his fangs glistening in the sun’s light, his body is thrown back out into the hall like a sack of flour, tugged by an invisible string. Akaashi levitates your breakfast tray in midair with one hand while he waves the other, causing the door to close with a slam. With a flicker of his fingers, the lock clicks and your food carefully lowers to the floor, sliding under the cell’s iron bars with practiced ease. 

        “Ignore that,” he mutters, blue eyes still trained on the entryway with a hidden display of disease. You struggle to follow his orders blindly, still shaken by whatever the hell had just happened. 

        Deep in thought, you carefully tear off small bits of the cinnamon roll Bokuto had made, chewing on the sugary goodness with chattering teeth. You were too frightened to even focus on the flavor, even though it was by far your most favorite prison food. Finally, you submit to your curiosity. 

        “Hey.” No response.

        “Hey!” Ignored.

        “Hey Akaashi!” Nothing. For two minutes you try to grab his attention, yelling his name and obnoxiously clanging against the bars with your fork, but nothing happens. Try me, buddy.

        The only source of protein Bokuto had provided for today’s breakfast was a hard-boiled egg rocking back and forth on your metal tray thanks to your frantic movements. You don’t hesitate to grab it and chuck it at Akaashi’s head. 

        Mission failed. We’ll get ‘em next time. 

        Your evil professor from two weeks ago throws up a measly hand and suddenly the egg hits an invisible wall. It falls to the hardwood floor with a dull thump while he rolls his eyes at you. 

        “Seriously?”

        “Oh c’mon Akaashi!” you gesture to the door with a nod of your head. “What the hell was that?”

        “I said ignore it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. The raven-haired man exits the room with a bang, leaving you to collapse back onto your bed and try to fall asleep again. Nothing worked though. Bokuto’s glowing scarlet eyes were burned into your retinas, and you highly doubted you would be getting good rest any time soon.

        “What the hell was that?” you repeat under your breath. 

                                ~~~

        More time passes, and you don’t even have the energy anymore to count the sunrises. You haven’t seen Bokuto in a while, but guessed that was mostly the last encounter’s doing. Hate no longer encompasses your brain when you see or think of them, although all of your feelings have grown dull at this point. You haven’t felt excitement, rage, worry, or happiness in too long. You couldn’t even force a glare anymore. Sitting in an empty cage, surrounded by nothing and no one was really getting to you. Scientists were right when they said humans were social creatures. You were dying, slowly from the inside-out. 

        Your hair felt greasy and dead. Your cheeks felt sunken and sullen. The only thing you could do in captivity was lie down and sleep. So you did. 

        You sat with your head propped up on your elbow, boredly watching the day's weather forecast instead of searching directly outside the window at it. It was sunny and hot, just like always, and yet you couldn’t even feel it. 

        A loud groan of pain outside the door causes you to jump. 

        “I can’t control it, Akaashi!” Another agonized grunt. “I need her! Your potions aren’t working anymore!” The hall is silent for a second, presumably thanks to Akaashi’s quieter tone. Then Bokuto speaks once more. “No, her scent is too much! I can’t!”

        Nothing happens for a solid ten minutes. There was a clock on the news channel, and you’d been checking it once every few seconds in between watching the door leading to the hall. Absolute silence for ten minutes after that shocking outburst. 

        Without warning, the entrance to your room blasts open and a table chock-full of colorful glass bottles and bubbling chemistry equipment floats in, one foot off the ground. A small bookcase follows, only containing titles in a foreign language that, you were pretty sure, was ancient and dead. At last, Akaashi trails in as the caboose to the furniture express, his arms raised in the air and pointed at the newest additions to the fun room. 

        “What’s going on?” You push off the ground and clasp the bars of your cell, leaning as close as you can to watch Akaashi perform his magic. With squinted eyes, he gently sets the floating furnishings on the floor, pushing them against the wall before snapping his fingers and producing a spinny chair in front of the table. 

        “Bokuto’s going wild, and I need to keep an eye on you from now on while I work.” He doesn’t dare make eye contact with you, and instead focuses on transporting in a new cabinet from the hall, carefully placing it between the books and the desk. Its shelves are filled to the brim with labeled jars and locked boxes, some glowing and some creating curious clouds of fog. 

        “Why?” you ask restlessly, gripping the iron tighter. “What’s wrong with him?” 

        At the question, Akaashi halts his movements and hesitantly turns back to you. His blue orbs drop to your neck before flicking back up to your face. “He’s keeping his promise.” 

        His promise? His promise?! What promise? You dig through your memories of every time you’ve ever interacted with Bokuto, and there was only one promise you could think of. 

        “Next time, I promise I’ll wait until you let me!” 

        It was after you found out he had bitten you. After you found out he had drank your blood. 

        Is that really what caused this? His whines out in the hall had been disturbingly pained, and every word he spoke had sounded forced through bare teeth. 

        Suddenly, his red eyes from a few mornings ago made a lot more sense. 

        He was thirsty, and you were the only juice pouch he wanted. 

        “Akaashi,” you shift on your feet and rub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Why doesn’t Bokuto just… umm…” you trail off, not exactly sure how to phrase it without sounding insane. From inside your cage. Where you had been locked in by a vampire and a wizard. Maybe you should just quit trying to sound sane from now on; it was quickly becoming a useless habit of yours.

        “Yes?” His back is still to you, but he turns his head in effort to show he’s listening while he fumbles with radiant tonics at his new work station.

        “Why doesn’t he just, like, drink from another person?” 

        The black-haired man’s posture goes rigid, and his head slowly raises to face the wall in front of him. The bottled liquids are left forgotten on the desk while he grips its edges with white knuckles. A bitter chuckle leaves him, and it shakes you to the core.

        “Oh, my love, you have so much to learn.” 

        “Do I?”

        “Yes,” he smirks. “For now, just know that the only one he willingly drinks blood from is you, and you alone.”

        The thought makes you nauseous. You hadn’t even been conscious the first time, but you already know you don’t look forward to another blood-sucking experience. “Wonderful,” you mutter bitterly, folding your arms and stepping away from the bars. 

        You don’t speak for the next hour, only watching Akaashi work with wide eyes. Every few minutes, a puff of steam or a crackle of sparks would arise from his movements. As if on repeat, he constantly switched between trailing his finger over a page of an open book, shaking random glass bottles until they had a reaction, and plucking various jarred items off the shelves to add to his mysterious concoctions. As someone who had never believed in magic or storybooks, you were mystified. 

        “Hey Akaashi?” you piped up, eyes still locked on his hand’s twirling motions as he read from the book. 

        “Yes, my love?” You still kind of hated that nickname, but in a way it was growing on you. 

        “Can I do some of that... stuff?” 

        “Absolutely not,” he responded in the same, domestic tone. 

        “Oh come on, I’m dying in here, bro!” 

        “Well, bro,” he spat out, obviously not a fan of your own name-calling, “it’s even more deadly out here. You can’t touch any of this stuff unless you want to lose your eyesight.” 

        “Well, I’d have to look at you less, so maybe it’s worth a shot, hmm?” 

        He doesn’t answer, instead choosing to let out a deep sigh and roll his shoulders back. You weren’t done, though, and decided to complain until his ears bled. 

        “Oh my God, I’m so bored.” Zero acknowledgement from your pal, but no matter. 

        “Akaashi, my dude, I’m like really bored in here.” You tap your nails against the metal lockspace, causing annoying little clinks to reverberate around the room. 

        “I’m not your ‘dude,’” he whispers, so faint you can barely hear it. 

        “My dude! I’m really bored. I could literally die of boredom right here, right now. You wanna know how bored I am?-”

        “No.”

        “-I’m so bored I could-”

        “My love!” he barks, spinning to face you with a glare. “Do you mind?” While his eye twitches and his teeth gnaw, you only shrug your shoulders with pursed lips.

        “No, not really. You’re fine.”

        Akaashi’s deep blue eyes observe you in annoyance and he finally gives in, stomping close enough that you can see each one of his long lashes. “What. Do. You. Want.” 

        “To do something, Akaashi!” You throw your arms in the air exasperatedly and spin around. “Do you know how much it sucks to be in here?” His face darkens with guilt as you give him a pleading look. “Please,” you fold your hands and pout, “please just let me do something, anything.” 

        Ashamed, Akaashi brushes a hand through his hair and bites his lip, trying to come up with an idea that won’t require you to leave the cage. At last, his gaze brightens and he snaps his fingers.

        Something crashes to the floor behind you. You spin around and gawk at the sight. 

        “Books?!”

        “Go nuts, my love.” 

        I’ll try.

                                ~~~

        “What’s the difference between eggshell white and white white?” You furrow your brows and squint at the phrase in the novel.

        “Eggshell is softer.” 

        “Really?!” Your eyes widen in excitement and you begin to wiggle on your blanket pile. “Wow, that’s so amazing! God, aren’t words just so interesting Akaashi?”

        “Are you being serious?”

        “Fuck no.” The grin drops off your face and you toss the book back behind you. Good news: Akaashi had given you a bookshelf. Bad news: every single one so far had been mind-numbingly dull. Or maybe it was the atmosphere. 

        Life seemed to be just a little more stale each day you sat in that room without Bokuto’s interrupting presence. You missed the times when he would barge in with a “Hey hey hey!” and slide your food into the cell before plopping down cross-legged and telling you stories. It didn’t matter what they were about. Sometimes it was about a dog he got to pet at the grocery store. Other times it was a bird he saw while running around in the forest. It wasn’t until now that you realized how much you actually missed him. You legitimately missed your owlish kidnapper, who had bitten you without consent.

        Somewhere deep in your mind, you guessed he was still just the same old diner customer who occupied most of your shift, then made up for it with a generous tip. But maybe, just maybe you saw him as more than that.

        “Akaashi,” you sigh, rolling over onto your stomach and resting your chin on your folded arms, “is Bokuto okay?” 

        He doesn’t respond for a minute, and the air in the room grows a bit harder to breathe. “I don’t really know, YN.” His answer, at last, isn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, but neither was the agonized roar that followed. 

        “AAHH!” 

        You scramble to your feet while Akaashi drops a glass in surprise. The glowing liquid splatters everywhere, but he pays it no mind even as it sizzles against the hardwood.

        “What the hell was that?” you whisper in terror, wide eyes watching him for an explanation. The shake of his head along with a shrug didn’t exactly comfort you. 

        Abruptly, another howl of pain cuts through the air, breaking the nervous tension like a knife. Then a scream sounds. Bangs and cracks rumble the floor beneath your feet as Bokuto, or what you assume is Bokuto, cries out in absolute torment. 

        You flinch every time he makes a noise, and frantically reach for Akaashi when he begins to walk towards the door. 

        “Akaashi, no-” He silences you with a finger against his lips and nods reassuringly before cracking open the door and disappearing into the hall, locking it in his wake. 

        One minute passes. More screams, but nothing worse.

        Two minutes. 

        Three. 

        Four. 

        On the fifth minute, or the three hundred seconds that you had counted Mississippi-lessly, Akaashi crashes back into the room with wide, panicked eyes, slamming the door behind him. 

        He sprints towards your cell with a heaving chest and waves his hand, causing the bars to fly open. Your heart rate speeds up at the sight. I’m free.

        “We have to go,” he sputters, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the cage. His fingers clench your own so tightly, and his palms are clammy and twitching as he drags you out of the room. 

        The halls are dark, but colored the same maroon as the walls of your cage-area. You barely have enough time to comprehend all the tapestries you pass, every vase and statue and stained glass transforming into a blur as Akaashi speeds up his longer stride. Your legs burn as you try to keep up with him, and your heart races in excitement. 

        I’m free.

        Every twist and turn he leads you through gives you whiplash, and you only now know that you’ve been living in a friggin’ labyrinth for the past month or so. Each corridor has a window, and each window displays the full moon outside. It’s the only light that shows Akaashi the path he needs to take. 

        Your arm begins to ache from his straining grip, keeping it constantly extended as he flies ahead of you in a dead sprint. The burn only lessens when Akaashi slows to a stop in a large foyer. Two staircases lead down to one main entrance of the mansion. 

        I’m free. 

        You’re so close you can practically taste it. And finally, your blood rushing in and out of your eardrums, becoming so quiet that you can finally hear it. A low growl coming from the hallway just behind you. 

        “Come on,” Akaashi shouts to you, snatching your hand once again and trailing you down the steps of the right staircase in a mad rush. He pulls you out the main entrance and slams the two large doors closed behind him. The lion-faced metal door knockers clang loudly as it shuts, and Akaashi mumbles foreign words under his breath while releasing his grip on you, waving two blue, glowing hands over the crease of the doorway.  

        What was the strongest bone in the body again? 

        “This should give us enough time to escape. Then we’ll figure out how to fix him once we’re far enough away,” Akaashi chokes out, gulping down air while he watches the mansion’s entrance warily. 

        “Oh, good.” In a split second, you throw your elbow into Akaashi’s forehead, effectively knocking him unconscious. “Guess I’m still a little pissed off about being locked up though, dickhead.” You deliver a swift kick to the side of his body while leering over him with a smirk. Then you swivel back and observe your escape routes. 

        There was option one, which was a paved path that presumably led to the real world once more. Both Bokuto and Akaashi, when he woke up, would easily spot you running down this trail. 

        Or there was option two, which was the dense forest that you could barely see from the large patio of the mansion. It would be less easy to find you or track your scent, but you would have to travel slower on account of not tripping and being wary of wild animals. 

        You decided to take your chances and tore cheek towards the forest. Your legs were about to give out thanks to the marathon inside the house, so the only thing fueling you right now was pure adrenaline. You had done many amazing things with adrenaline, so you figured it could help you out now too. 

        Every rock and twig on the forest floor seemed to be out to trip you, so you attempted to hop over them with all the grace you could muster. What you hope looked like an elegant gazelle galloping on the great plains actually appeared to be a newborn giraffe bumbling around on spare strands of hay. You twisted your ankles like twenty times, but the pain only drove you harder. 

        I can make it!

        I can make it!

        I can make it!

        Wind whipped past your face and blew your hair into your mouth, but you had to settle for choking on it because every time you spit it out, it thwapped right back into your eyes. Your lungs pleaded for a break while your knees began to wobble, and the time you finally decided to give in to their whining was about the time you tripped over a fallen log and face-planted directly adjacent to a pile of what you prayed wasn’t any sort of excrement. 

        I can’t make it.

        “Fuck,” you wheeze, wiping the dirt and hair off your face before butt-scooching to lean back against a tree. Tenderly, you rub your ankles and try not to cry out at the pain. Tears stung your eyes while your muscles throbbed with soreness. Your heartbeat was tangible even in the palms of your hands. Every little thing that could hurt in your body did hurt. Places you didn’t even know existed twinged every few seconds, and you couldn’t help but rue the day you quit the gym. 

        “Shit,” you whimper quietly, biting your lip as wetness begins to pain your cheeks. How were you even supposed to return to real life normally after this? After being kidnapped by your teacher and a man who knows where you worked? Would the cops put you in the Witness Protection program? Would you ever get to see your family again? Most importantly: would you even make it out of these woods alive?

        The low growls that slow began to resound around you certainly increased the severity of that question. Your breathing hitched as you spotted something, or some things, about thirty feet away from you. Mountain lions, but twice as big, and of different colors. And from the sound of it, they were also behind you as well. 

        As a pack, they circled you, and ever so slowly, they creeped closer and closer. The one directly in front of you was nearest, and you cowered away with silent snivels of fear. It appeared to lead the group with every step it took, with its massive, black paws pressing soundlessly against the forest floor. It was barely visible thanks to its fur color, which was as dark as the night sky. It was by far the largest of them all, none of the others in your line of sight even came close. 

        As you hugged your knees to your chest and dug your back into the tree behind you, the leader loomed nearer. Finally, it was practically two feet from you, and sniffed you curiously while the others stayed perched and ready to attack. Then you got the weirdest feeling from it, like the wild feline was smirking at you. 

        What the hell? You furrow your brows and stabbed your nails into your legs, trying to stop yourself from making anymore sounds. Even the smallest reaction on your part might cause them to attack. But then a surprised mewl sounded behind you, followed by a whimper. Then another, then another until you realized that something… or maybe someone was picking them off one by one. 

        The leader in front of you huffed out a warm breath that hit you in the face as it snarled. This caused you to cry out in instinctive fear, and a loud growl echoed in response. 

        A flash of white latched onto the flank of the wild cat beside the leader, who whipped around with a hiss and a swipe of its meaty paw. The tackled feline went flying behind its attacker, then its friend was tossed away with inhuman strength as well before all that remained was the black cat in front of you. The pained mewls of the rest of the pack finally died out, and the leader whipped his tail up into a frenzy as he charged the glob of white you squinted to see. 

        Screeches, growls and grunts arose as one large clamor while you clenched your eyes closed and prayed that you would make it out alive. Large thuds and smacks were audible before it all stopped in a dead silence. You heard the telltale thumps of multiple felines fleeing the scene, and hesitantly opened your eyes to see flashes of black, orange and white all fade into the distance of the dark forest directly behind the white creature in front of you.

        The only thing you could hear was the wind whistling and the heavy panting of the animal in front of you. The woods were so dark, but in an instant, two glowing red orbs were visible on it. On him. 

        “Bokuto,” you mutter under your breath. He growls deeply in response, carefully padding closer on bare feet to you. He was covered in the tatters of a black and white t-shirt and basketball shorts. His wild hair was in disarray, and you found small, bloody scratches here and there on his body, which grew smaller and smaller by the second until they healed over as smooth skin. 

        “YN,” he grumbled tightly, dropping to his knees and slowly surveying you up and down for any damage. With clenched fists at his sides, he leered over your body, breathing heavily while his eyes finally found home on your neck. Deep in his burning eyes, you saw two conflicting emotions: hunger and shame. His lips peel back to reveal two sharpened fangs, glinting in the moonlight. You can’t help but whimper at the sight and recoil, letting out a shaky breath when he stops at the noise. 

        “YN,” he repeats, his voice needy and guilty all at the same time. His hand slowly unfurls from his side and weakly brushes a hair out of your face. You wince at the feeling of his touch and he cringes at your reaction. “YN, I-” Bokuto rears back with a whine and bites his lip, easily drawing blood with his tooth-like daggers. 

        “AKAASHI!” he suddenly shouts, red eyes flaring as he avoids your gaze. The abruptness scares the life out of you for the last time, and your brain decides it needs a break from all the recent excitement. Bokuto calls out for his partner in crime once more as your vision goes fuzzy, and with an involuntary sigh of relief, you pass out against the rough tree behind you.

                                ~~~

        “Here, my love, drink this.” Akaashi settles onto the couch beside you and hands you a cup of tea with his own magical kick. You’re finally in a new room, no more cage even though you KOed one of your captors. It has a four-poster, royal purple bed with see-through tulle hanging down around it like a protective curtain. There’s a television directly across from it, sitting on top of and in between bookshelves, stacked with stories much more interesting with the ones Akaashi had previously provided. Instead of your old window, you now have a glass sliding door leading to a balcony, which has a staircase down into a gated off garden, chock-full of every kind of flower imaginable. 

        There’s a closet filled to the brim with clothing from all different centuries, most of which you refuse to wear. And last but not least, there’s a couch right next to your private bathroom, upon which both you and Akaashi are sitting. 

        “Thank you,” you mumble, accepting it with a soft smile and reveling in the warmth it provides for your fingers. 

        After you fell unconscious deep in the forest in front of the mansion, Bokuto had Akaashi carry you home to get some much-needed rest. When you awoke, the black-haired male helped you get undressed and into a bath, and you were too worn and traumatized to care if he saw you in the nude. 

        “I’ve seen it all before anyways, my love,” he had said. You didn’t bother to ask for more information, too wrapped up in releasing the tension of every muscle in your body. 

        And now, he served you a tea like a good little butler, while you sat wrapped in a warm blanket in your new cage. It was much cozier than the last one, you had to admit. 

        “Is Bokuto okay?” you whisper, still staring into your cup of tea while biting your lip. Akaashi’s arm around your shoulder tensed for just a second, then relaxed as he pulled you closer. You give in, enjoying some form of comfort after last night’s events. 

        “He’s seen you. And I don’t know if that’s made him better off or worse.”

        “Can I see him?” Your question causes Akaashi to shift in his seat, facing you with wide eyes and a blanched face. 

        “YN, he might hurt you.”

        “That’s okay.” 

        “Excuse me?” He raises a brow and gently grasps your chin in his hand, turning you to face him seriously. 

        “Let me see him.” Akaashi shakes his head.

        “YN, he’ll-”

        “I don’t care,” you interrupt more forcefully this time. “Let me see him. I just wanna say thank you.” Akaashi licks his lips nervously and clenches his eyes closed in contemplation. 

        “All right, fine. I’ll go find him. But don’t say I didn’t tell you so.” Your lips quirk up at his fold, and you grab his hand just after he stands. 

        “Thank you.” Your eyes sparkle in the lightning, and you’re not sure but you’re also almost damn positive Akaashi just blushed. 

        “Just be careful,” he grumbles, squeezing your hand before pulling away and leaving the room. 

        About half an hour passes, and after a pat on the back for your personal ability to assume how much time has passed, the door to your new bedroom opens just a hair. 

        “YN?” Bokuto whispers through the crack. “Akaashi said you wanted to talk.”

        “I do. Please come in.”

        “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

        “Please just come in.” Your beg works, and Bokuto hesitantly pushes his way inside, closing the door softly behind him. He hasn’t opened his eyes once since he entered, and you smile softly at the sight. Silent as a mouse, you rise up off the couch and slowly approach him. 

        “Y-YN-”

        “Bokuto, look, I know what’s happening to you,” you pause and wrinkle your forehead. “Well, I kinda know what you’re going through. But you helped me through all of it, and you didn’t hurt me even once. Thank you.” You cup his face gently and he inhales deeply at the affection. 

        “Can I see your eyes now?” you ask carefully. His hands trail up your sides and over your arms, all the way up to your own as he cups them closer to his cheeks. 

        “YN, I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

        “Bokuto, I trust you now.” You trail your thumbs up just under his eyelashes before returning them down to the apples of his cheeks. “Please, just let me help you.”

        After a long moment of silence, his eyelids flutter open, displaying beautiful golden orbs that shift to bright red in an instant. Bokuto swallows nervously and grips your hands tighter, his gaze constantly flickering down to your neck while a slow rumble starts to sound from deep in his chest. 

        “YN…” 

        “Come on,” you take a hand of his in your own and lead him to the couch, sitting and dragging him down next to you. Slowly, you release your grip and pull your hair back and away from your neck, tilting your head slightly to display what he needed. 

        “YN!” Bokuto growled, instinctively leaning closer before pulling back just as quickly. “I don’t wanna hurt you!” 

        “You won’t.” Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and you wonder if he can hear it too. Without a second thought, you grab his hand once more and place it against your neck, cringing at the uncomfortable feeling already. Maybe I can’t do this. 

        “I can’t, YN. You need to know I can’t stop if I start.” 

        “You won’t kill me.”

        “Never,” he exclaims, scandalized at the thought. His hand twitches against your neck. “I just… I’m not sure if I can stop when you do feel it. God, I need it so bad, YN. I know I won’t stop.” You were ready for this like an hour ago, but now you’re beginning to feel doubts. That’s no bueno. 

        “Fuck, Bokuto, just get on with it already!” As fast as you can, you dig your hands into his hair and yank him down into your neck. 

        Your first thought was Oh, ouchie.

        Your second thought was OW FUCK, SON OF A BITCH!

        Apparently, he had a little less resolve than he knew, because that motherfucker dove right in like a rat on a Cheeto. As soon as his fangs pierced the delicate skin of your neck, you couldn’t even speak. It was like when a cat accidentally gets their claws caught in their owner’s skin, but instead of one small flinch of pain, it was hours, times like a hundred. 

        It was like getting your blood drawn, except by a human… ’s mouth. Yeah, no shit.

        It hurt, god it hurt so bad. The noises he made as he drank your blood, sucking it straight out of it’s most vital vein, were so vulgar they made you want to plug your ears. One hand of his was in your hair, not yanking harshly, but just gently leaning your head back while the other held you in place with his hand on your hip. 

        The constant stabbing feeling pulsed right through your whole nervous system with every gulp of his mouth. At first, you had attempted to thrash wildly against him, desperately trying to get away from the agonizing pain. Then, as your body and mind began to feel more tired, more drained, you could only bunch his shirt up tightly in your hands while you whimpered. 

        Every noise you made, Bokuto responded with a small groan or grunt, but his grip never let up, and eventually you couldn’t handle it. For the second time in a span of twenty-four hours or so, you submitted to your aching body and slumped in the vampire’s grip.

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Childish Ways (Genos x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You always throw magnets at Genos. He’s gotten used to it at this point.

A/N: I’m a simple person. I get an idea at midnight. I write it. I ruin my sleep schedule just for the hell of it. Hope y’all like it!

Word count: 1592

        Clink.

       You were a Class S Hero, just like him. You were also a teenager just like him. Except for the fact that you still considered washing dishes and buying groceries chores instead of training. And like any kid your guys’ age, you liked to mess around and fuck with people. Which currently explained why you were throwing magnets at him with the hope they would stick. 

       You had an audience too. “Ooh, you missed that one.”

       “Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” 

       Child Emperor stuck his tongue out at your reply before continuing to suck on his lollipop. The rest of the Class S heroes sat in the dim conference room either boredly grumbling under their breaths or, in Pig God’s case, inhaling a five-star steak dinner. The Hero Association had called them all here under the pretense that there was a Dragon-level threat in the area. Of course, Genos noted the usual heroes were missing: Blast, Metal Knight, and a couple others. So, as the remarkable heroes all laid in wait, they disinterestedly played on personal gadgets and other devices. 

       It was early on when Genos found you took a liking to throwing magnets at him. When you first sat in the conference room with him after freshly joining Class S as an exceptional hero, you had excitedly asked if he could ‘hold those souvenir magnets like your fridge at home’ while observing his metallic form up and down. From that day forward, anytime you saw him roaming your city or entering the Hero Association’s onyx skyscraper, you would pull out a handy stack of flat magnets and flick them at him like a deck of cards. 

       Ding.

       “YN, you have terrible aim.” The child who sat next to you watched your Hawaii magnet hit the server robot in the corner of the room, causing it to let out a slew of concerned beeps before toppling over.

       “Shut it, pipsqueak, I’m working on it.” You stick your tongue out of the corner of your mouth, squinting at your target before flicking the card with your super-powered strength. It flew past an undisturbed Genos’ head, ruffling his bangs on the way by before smacking anticlimactically into the wall behind him. Saitama next to him lets out a humorous grunt before returning to drawing on the illuminated table with his gloves. 

       “Craaaap.” You groan and dramatically drop your head down onto the glass surface. Child Emperor pats your back reassuringly. 

       “One day, YN.” 

       “It’s gonna happen today, squirt. Just watch me.” With a newfound, unearned enthusiasm, you whip your head back up and eye Genos, who unblinkingly stares back, completely unaffected. The cyborg was used to this, and was no longer threatened by your magnet-throwing like he had been at first. In the beginning, he had taken a fighting stance after your first lob, pointing his bodily weapons at you only to flinch in surprise when you screamed in fright. Since then, he let you have your fun, now knowing it was harmless… and a little endearing. 

       Genos was drawn out of his thoughts when a particularly small object made contact with his cheek, hitting it harshly before bouncing off and rebounding into Saitama’s unassuming face.

       “Double kill!” you announced in a mockingly deep voice before victoriously high-fiving the ten-year-old next to you. After that win, you excitedly wiggle in your seat, already aiming another magnet at him for consecutive bullseyes.

       “Go for the throat!” Child Emperor advises from beside you, pointing at Genos with shining eyes and bouncing up and down in his chair. You give him a disturbed look.

       “There’s something wrong with you, kid.” You shake your head but still flick the magnet from between your fingers. 

       Fwap.

       “AW YEAHHH!” You both cry out triumphantly, fist-bumping at the success.

       “YN! Child Emperor!” With perfect timing, director of the association enters the room and hurls dirty looks at the two of you. 

       “Sorry sir.” Following the scolding, your face grows ashamed and you swivel away in your chair, plopping your elbow onto the table and disappointedly tucking your chin into your hand.

        After the excitement dies down, Genos peels a France magnet away from his forehead wordlessly. He watches your form out of the corner of his eye and smiles softly, silently tucking the souvenir into his pocket.

                               ***

       “You totally like Genos.” 

       The Class S hero was standing dutifully outside of the bathroom, waiting for his master to do his business when he overheard you and Child Emperor still exiting the conference room. 

       “Well duh. How’d you figure that one out, genius?” Genos shifted on his feet at your confession. At least one of you had your emotions figured out.

       “C’mon YN, you’re like, way old, just tell him!” 

       You scoff. “I’m only a few years older than you! Anyways-”

       “Still,” the child muttered under his breath.

       “Anyways,” you interrupted bitterly, “it’s not like he’s gonna like me back. He’s totally cute, but quiet and emotionless.”

       “I’m not sure I wanna hear this anymore-”

       “I’m not gonna confess any time soon, and neither is he. I’m just too nervous and shy.” Your voices were growing closer and the cyborg panicked, pushing his way into the men’s room and holding the door open just enough that he could continue eavesdropping. 

       “Pansy-ass, just do it. He’s like a robot, what’s he gonna do?”

       “Shut it, you know he’s more than that. For now, I’ll just stick to-”

       “Genos?” Saitama exited the stall, staring bewilderedly at his disciple. “Did you follow me in here?” He began to wash his hands while still warily eyeing the blond. 

       Genos stays silent for a second, contemplating the conversation he had just overheard. You were attractive by societal standards, and never tried to actually hurt or insult him. Plus, you reminded him of a part of himself he lost long ago. A part he could never have again thanks to his vendetta and cybernetic self. You were playful and fun-loving, and so optimistic about life that it reminded him of happier days in his old schools, surrounded by other kids who thought life would always be that easy. Memories of you throwing magnets at him stood brighter than any others that he had formed since the death of his family, and he liked it that way. He liked the effect you had on him. No, he liked you.

       “Master,” Genos suddenly voiced. The bald hero hummed while exiting the bathroom, the blond trailing after. 

       “How do you confess your romantic feelings to a girl?”

       “What the hell, Genos?!”

                               ***

       It was perfect. It was grade school, and he liked to think it reflected the same childishness of you throwing things at him to hint that you harbored a crush on him. It was a handwritten note, and Genos traveled all the way to your city to deliver it to you. 

       “YN,” he monotonously called out when he spotted your figure observing the streets from a rooftop. You grew scarlet at the sight of the cyborg making his way up to you. Nervously, you began to twirl a lock of hair around your finger, watching with wide eyes as he approached you emotionlessly. 

       “Genos.” Your voice caught in your throat as you struggled to breathe normally. 

       “Here.” His face was intimidatingly blank, but you expected nothing less as he presented a folded up note to you. With trembling hands, you accepted the slip of paper and unfurled it slowly. 

       You attract me like my metal attracts your magnets. 

Time stopped.

       You pinched yourself then closed your eyes harshly, opening them only to see the note still held those words. Looking back up at Genos, you began to giggle slightly. Then you started to laugh. It slowly grew into the elegant wheezing of dying camel as you held your stomach from the pain, your face frozen in hilarity. Your chortles didn’t stop until you saw Genos’ shoes back up slowly, and you glanced up to see his head turned away in shame. Quickly, you stood up straight, coughing awkwardly to disguise the remnants of your humor while wiping away a few tears that had leaked. 

       “I- guh,” you guffawed before covering your mouth guiltily, “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m laughing.” He didn’t respond or even move a muscle, so you continued. “I like you too, and this,” you hold up the note, “this is the best thing I have ever gotten from somebody.” You beam while taking a couple steps toward him. A gasp almost slips out at the sight of his glowing, yellow eyes at last staring into yours. Your heart begins to pound uncontrollably in response, and he comes closer as well. 

       “Good, I’m glad.” His smile was stiff and insincere at first, but when you returned your gaze to the cheesy note, it grew soft and genuine. You nodded along with his words while biting your lip and observing your scuffed shoes. Then, your eyes grew to the size of saucers when his hand came up and prompted you to look at him with a small pressure on your chin. You obeyed and watched perplexedly as he fished for something in his pocket. 

       “Does that mean I can keep this, then?” Genos then whipped out an item you had been searching for since last week. 

       “YOU STOLE MY FRANCE MAGNET?!”

       “You threw it at me.”

       “IRRELEVANT!”

Okay yall, hear me out:

Iwaoi x reader

—thank you for coming by to my Ted Talk

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💜💜

Misery Loves Company (Garou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Garou was falling for you, ever so slowly. It only takes a small bath with you for this to settle in. 

A/N: I thought I tried to make it pretty cute, but it ended up a little too meaningful to be fluffy. Nonetheless, thanks for all the love recently, and sorry I haven’t been writing as much! I truly am grateful you guys, anyone on here who is supporting me, so thank you. Please enjoy!

Word count: 1867

        The chair was uncomfortably hard, but every time Garou mentioned that, the nastiest stink eye was thrown his way, courtesy of you. 

       “If you don’t like it so much, then don’t come crawling to me next time you rub blood into your hair.” You were right, it was a bad habit of his. Your hands were stained orange as you combed through his paling strands. His neck was growing stiff too from leaning back into your sink, but he was too afraid of your reaction to mention it. Besides, he was rather occupied purring at the way you gently massaged your shampoo onto his head. 

       “Is that,” Garou sniffs the air scrutinizingly, “strawberry scented?”

       “My home, my shampoo.”

       “Right,” he nodded, pressing his lips together to prevent you from stopping the ministrations. Your bathroom was quiet aside from the sound of the sink running and the soap bubbling. The light on your ceiling was slowly burning through Garou’s closed eyelids, but he could care less. Right now, he was too focused on keeping his breaths light and soundless. He didn’t want you to notice how much your nails gently scratching on his scalp affected him. At first, the silver-haired man thought you were simply focused on the matter at hand, until….

       “Garou,” your fingers paused momentarily, and he had to hold back a whine, “you’re gonna get seriously hurt one of these days.” You were concerned. You, a regular, powerless human, were concerned over him, the Hero Hunter. God, you were perfect.

       “I can handle myself, YN.” His golden eyes flashed open and observed your face smugly while his mouth grew into a lopsided grin. You tensed and subconsciously tugged at his strands, causing him to hiss. To avoid his strong gaze, you turned your head away, flushing and nervously nibbling on your bottom lip. He was always able to get past your walls and under your skin, and that fact infuriated you. Sort of.

       “What if you die, what then?” You regained the strength to argue. “I’m not some… revivaler who can raise you from the dead!” Anxious to move, you quickly massage your fingers back into his now-clean hair, biting your tongue when he groaned silently at the sensation.

       “I think the word you're looking for is necromancer-”

       “Shut it.” He snickered, but kept silent otherwise. While you cupped your hands and collected water to wash his hair with, Garou lost himself in his thoughts. Ever since the beginning, when he had first met you, you were always worried for him. You knew he was a wanted criminal, and a powerful, almost unstoppable fighter, but you still cared for him. It was new for the young man, but he enjoyed it. He reveled in the tender way you treated him, as though he wasn’t as dangerous as the world thought. You were wrong on that end of course, but that wasn’t the point. You were just so…

       “I’m done,” you announced suddenly, turning off the faucet and handing him a small towel for his freshly-washed, strawberry-scented hair. Hesitantly, he sat up and began to rub his scalp, only to yelp at a new twinge in his side. Garou was shirtless, so he could easily see where he had just reopened a fresh laceration courtesy of the last hero he fought. 

       “You okay?” 

       “Of course. I’ll be fine.” It was the truth, but you never bought it until the wound was nothing but healed-over skin. Scoffing, you started the water in the bathtub.

       “You need to clean your injuries. Strip.” The blunt statement flew over your head completely until your criminal companion had something to say about it. 

       “Wow YN, I’m glad you finally came to your senses,” he teased. You almost choked on the oxygen in your lungs while you attempted to whip out an excuse, but it was too late. After you turned around to correct yourself, Garou approached you, shamelessly naked and utterly self-satisfied. Every outline, indent, and vein screamed at you to stop and stare, but you were stronger than your urges. For once in your life. 

       “Just get in the tub.” Your back faced him and your heart stuttered when you felt his presence beside you. The hot water dribbled over the edge as Garou sank into the porcelain, his jaw clenched at the feeling of every scratch on his body stinging in pain. He thought he hid it well, but you peeked over your shoulder in unease at his complete silence. If he was not hurting, he would be throwing suggestive offers your way. The sight of his bareness made you blush, but his snarl made you more concerned than anything. 

       “I know it hurts, but your wounds will heal faster, I promise,” you assured him softly, kneeling beside the tub with your hands on the edge. Once again, Garou’s heart skipped at your words. You actually gave a damn if he was injured from a battle with a do-gooder. What more could he ask for? Slowly, the young man’s body loses tension as he sinks lower into the water, pleased with the feeling of your eyes watching his every move worriedly. His own glowing orbs flicker open and meet yours in an instant. 

       “Join me.” Your jaw almost dropped through the floor. “Please.” Maybe he got a concussion from the fight, because his whole demeanor had changed in an instant. His eyes weren’t suggestive or hungry, and his brows didn’t quirk up like they normally would. Instead, he was sincere and almost desperate while his arms rose out of the water in offering of an embrace. You followed the droplets that trailed down his biceps, lucky bastards, and returned to the rest of the bath. 

       You liked him too, you always have. You wanted him too. Even though he could drag you into some deep shit if anyone ever found out he was in your house, you actually wanted to be with him. He held values and beliefs that defied many others, and his strength to deny society’s will interested you, not to mention small moments like these. You both liked each other, and you knew it too. You sucked with words though, so you figured this action could make up for your vocal slack. 

       “Don’t look,” you declared softly, and he nodded understandingly, ducking his drying head while his arms remained up in the air enticingly. The sound of clothing hitting the floor almost made him deny your wish, but he didn’t. Not even a peek. Go him. 

       Just as your foot dipped into the water, however, he stretched up and tugged you into his chest, water splashing everywhere. You squealed in surprise and he chuckled playfully, pulling your exposed figure impossibly closer. “Stop, I’m laying on your bruises! I don’t want to make them worse!” He ignores your exclamation and settles his chin on your shoulder. His hands mindlessly draw small patterns on your stomach. Tingles flow from every shape he creates but you don’t say a word; you only tightening your thighs closer together while your breathing stutters.

       “I don’t care, I don’t want you to see my hair when it’s down.” Garou notices how you relax at the playful response, and he’s glad. He loves when you’re flustered around him, but he would hate if you tried to close yourself off now, while you’re completely bare-skinned with him in a tub. The glowing in his chest almost bursts out with pride when you laugh easily, and he preens when your muscles relax into his own. 

       “You don’t think it’s a little too late for that?” Your head leans back to rest on his own shoulder and you begin to play with the bubbles on the water’s surface lazily. He smiles at the act.

       “I was hoping you were too charmed by my big, strong muscles to notice,” he shrugs, ever so slowly reaching up and running a hand along your right arm. You smile while continuing to collect and blow away the suds. 

       “Mmhmm, well they are pretty distracting,” you pat his cheek next to your head reassuringly, “but they definitely aren’t that distracting.” 

       “What’s that supposed to mean?!” You giggle and his movement halts at your wrist, caressing the skin there as he holds your hand against his warm jawline.

       “I’m just wondering how much hair gel you use in a week.” He pinches your side at the jab and you let out an adorable squeak- God, he was whipped.

       He was almost positive he began falling for you when you first met.

                               ***

       “Is it too tight?” You stared into his eyes with concern. Who the hell is this girl? After having passed out on the street post-brawl, he woke up in a strange apartment. Later, you approached his side, handed him a sandwich to eat and began to wrap his wounds in tape, all while he kept asking you the same question. 

       “Why?” Why did you care if he was hurting? Why did you not call the cops when you first recognized him? Why did you seem to care about him, the monstrous Hero Hunter? Throughout the span of time you worked, he kept eyeing the window over your shoulder. A clean escape. But you were a curious one, different enough to make him stay. 

       “Everyone has their reasons,” you muttered. Your deep eyes stared into his own, strong and intimidating, while your words rattled his brain. You listened to his side of the story after that. You sympathized with him, comforted him, understood him. You made him feel like he wasn’t alone that day. Thank God he didn’t jump out that window when he had a chance. What a mistake that would have been. Now, he had you.

                               ***

       Unable to hold back any longer, Garou carefully pressed a kiss against your shoulder, his grip on your wrist tightening after you gasp. He didn’t stop there. You gulped as he trailed his lips all the way up your throat and ended just under your ear. 

       “I think I love you,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear. He didn’t know for sure. No one had ever treated him the way you did, but he didn’t want to scare you away either. But as you took a deep breath and responded, his heart warned him that his assumption was correct.

       “I think I love you too.” Your face grew red at your own words, and you were frustrated with yourself at how bashful you suddenly became. Meanwhile, your hands subconsciously gripped his own comfortingly, and he beamed against the side of your face happily. 

       You never wanted him to change, and you accepted him for him. You didn’t want him to stop being himself, or become something he wasn’t. You just cared about him, loved him for what he was. And suddenly, he didn’t feel so alone anymore. 

Oreosmama’s Masterlist

AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER/LEGEND OF KORRA

CALL OF DUTY

HAIKYUU!!

MY HERO ACADEMIA

ONE PUNCH MAN

STAR WARS

STRANGER THINGS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Other Fandoms:

Chaos Walking:

🟣Headcanons🟣

When He’s Sad (Todd Hewitt) 🌦️

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid: 

■  Envy on Leave 🌦️

After failing his field test, Spencer is stuck on desk duty for a week. You, his usual partner for cases, get put with Morgan for the newest case, and Spencer can’t say he’s a fan. Oh no, he’s not a fan at all. 

Jujutsu Kaisen: 

Gojo Satoru:

■  Ten to None (Soulmate AU)🌦️

Soulmates’ markings add up to ten so soulmates know just how much of a danger their soulmate is to them. You have a ten on your wrist, so you know your soulmate must have a zero. There’s just one problem: no one in history has ever been worthy of a danger rating of ten, so who the hell is the supposedly “invincible god” were you fated to? 

Peaky Blinders:

Michael Gray: 

■  Gray Chains (Yandere) 🖤☀️ 

Michael needs to see you. It’s been three days after being shot by Luca Changretta’s men, and he knows you need to see him too–especially since you’re chained up against his headboard for trying to escape from him too many times. 

■  Lost and Found (Yandere/Sequel to “Gray Chains”) 🖤🌦️ (🔔?)

Michael is weak and desperate for you after being bedridden with his gunshot wounds in the hospital, but after weeks of caring for him, you know your feelings for your former kidnapper have grown into something you don’t dare confess. One night, when you almost let your feelings slip, you decide to flee. Michael won’t let you go so easily.

Queen’s Gambit:

Benny Watts: 

■  April Showers ☀️

All dolled up and ready to confess, you await a certain chess champion’s visit as a thunderstorm rages outside. But the longer your phone call stretches on, the closer you realize he may be to feeling the same about you.

Seven Deadly Sins:

Ban:

■  More Than a Name (Soulmate AU) ☀️

While escaping from the Holy Knights who are chasing after not her, but the name on her wrist, YN runs into the last person she expected to see so soon: Ban, her soulmate. 

Top Gun: Maverick

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw:

■  Look Me in the Eyes 🌦️

During naval training, your jet crashed and burned, taking your memories with it. But the lieutenant who saved you seems to know you better than he lets on. The only issue is that he refuses to tell you his name.

hey! are all requests open or just some? i just want to make sure before i send in something :))

All requests are open, go nuts!