League Of Villains Reactions To Dabi And Shigaraki’s Children (BNHA Headcanons)

I ADORED WHAT I READ WYM,, it was ✨ magical ✨

IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT, the notifs were magnificent too👌😚

His Mask (Kylo Ren x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After your very first mission for the Resistance goes awry, you can’t help but feel a connection to the Supreme Leader sent to interrogate you. However, when he lets you go after reading the name on your wrist, you can’t help but feel like the mission hadn’t accidentally gone so wrong after all. 

A/N: So like… this was one of the dudes I’ve been drooling over for the past couple weeks. Just a warning, I’ve only watched the first movie of the prequels and even that was like four years ago, so I wish you luck. Kylo is just *mwah* so freaking pretty I couldn’t help myself. Enjoy my first fic about a *non-animated* person, and Merry Christmas y’all!

Word count: 4115

        Hot. Dark. Dank.

        The bag haphazardly shoved over your head blinded your eyes along with your other four senses. Stray hairs plastered to your forehead with ease thanks to the sweat you produced combined with the condensation from your own breaths.

        “Please, let me go,” you sniveled. “I don’t know anything, I swear.”

        Your hands flexed and tugged against the metal clamps strapped over your wrists, doing nothing but leaving behind a rash you yearned to soothe. The chair you were strapped into was more like a reclining board, leaving your head to rest on stiff metal while your feet hovered above the floor, ankles confined akin to your arms. 

        “I think you know more than you’re letting on.” The voice was gruff and modulated, giving signs that this was the masked man you oh-so wanted to be the last person to interrogate you. 

        It was frustrating and terrifying all at the same time. Not only did you have no idea what information they wanted to extract from your brain, you also knew your denial of such would only cause them to hound you more. 

        “Come on,” you whimpered, head slamming back with a clang. “Just let me go. Please.”

        Silence followed your words for a solid minute before a whoosh of fabric met your ears. 

        “Leave us,” the robotic voice mumbled, causing two or three heavy pairs of footsteps to trail out of the room. What you assumed was the door hissed to a close with one final click. 

        More footsteps, these ones drawing closer to you, left you only to tense up in anticipation as the heat of another person took the place of the stale air on your right side.

        The bag over your head was ripped away in an instant, causing you to gasp and swallow as much cool oxygen as possible. The light of the room stung your eyes less than you expected, most likely because it itself was dimmed with hues of deep blue climbing up the walls. 

        Taking in your surroundings, you immediately noticed your interrogator was nowhere near your field of vision--probably on purpose. 

        His presence, instead, was palpable behind you as the heat of his form rolled off in waves. 

        “There’s no one here to save you now.” 

        Though you didn’t need to be told that, the thought still drove a cold stake of fear through your heart. 

        “Come on, I don’t know anything,” you pleaded, shifting your position to try and stare at the man who seemed adamant on not allowing you even a glimpse of his form. 

        “Then perhaps I should stop bothering with the theatrics.”

        The man the Resistance had warned you about was… intimidating. At least you knew you could trust them about that fact. Black leather covered every inch of his powerful figure, save for his helmet and cape, and a lightsaber was strapped to his hip. Watching the way his hand twitched just near the handle of the weapon, you feared he would pull it out and slice you right in half any second. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears but it couldn’t silence his voice. Sweat dripped down your face and clammed your palms when his head tilted to the side. 

        He wasn’t shy about observing you, doing so for what felt like hours. 

        “What is your name?” he finally grunted out, posture never changing. You, on the other hand, twitched and shivered every few seconds, itching to crawl into a hole and never come out. 

        Should I lie? Should I tell the truth? Would he be able to know even if I did?

        This man held your fate in his hands. To him, you were just another prisoner to gain information from and deposit into the nearest waste planet when he was done.

        But to you, he was the man who could kill you without batting an eye. It didn’t matter if you were someone’s soulmate or daughter or friend; you were just someone who happened to get involved in this galaxy’s war. A poor soul among many this man was ready to sacrifice in order for him to gain power. 

        You were nothing but another bug to squash. 

        “YN,” you dropped your head to your chest, acknowledging your fate. “YN YLN. And I still don’t know any information that might-”

        Clang!

        You flinched as the lightsaber crashed onto the floor, following its path back to the shaking hand that had dropped it. The man before you now stood stiff as a board but you could hear him suck in a breath between his teeth.

        “Your name is-” he cut himself off and cleared his throat. “What’s your name again?” Unlike the last five minutes, his voice suddenly sounded less sure and demanding. He sounded unstable--one of the many emotions you never expected from one of the most feared people of the galaxy. 

        You hesitated, furrowing your brows before forcing your eyes to trail from his still-trembling hand to his mask. “It’s… YN.” You swallowed, licking your lips before continuing, “Why?”

        “Your wrist. Let me see it.”

        “What?” Suddenly, his every movement had your attention. You reared back in your chair and tensed all your muscles, trying even harder to rip straight through the solid metal. “No!”

        “Show me,” he ordered, his tone now sharper than a blade. 

        To hell with him.

        The second he reached for your hand, you ripped it away, keeping your wrist face down against the metal clasp he had unlocked to reach it. Just when he grasped your hand for the third time and tried to rip it away from your side, you did something that shocked both you and him out of the stupor of war. 

        Spit dribbled straight down the middle of his helmet, sparkling in the dim lighting of the room while trailing down every indent in the silver detailing around his eyes. 

        Oh shit. I’m fucked.

        Ever so slowly, he dropped your wrist and straightened his posture, facing his head towards something just off in the distance past your own. You bit your tongue and watched his every move with a hawklike focus, knowing that a man trained as much as him could kill you in a split second without you even realizing. 

        Even when his hand raised in what you expected to be the last backhand of your life, you never looked away or braced for impact. 

        So you grew confused when his hand traveled up to his mask, which came undone with a small hiss of pressurized air. 

        Oh. 

        Oh okay. 

        Wow.

        He was…. His hair was…. Damn.

        This man, the man before you, was hot. Beauty marks decorated his right cheek as hazel eyes burned into your own. A long, straight nose sat naturally lifted above lips that seemed too plump for their own good and dark brown curls that had never heard the words “helmet hair” just barely reached the end of a pointed chin--all of which made you consider your sanity. 

        How-… how?

        “Sorry about the helmet.” Nice one, YN. Apologizing to the enemy.

        His face never changed; he only looked you up and down, properly this time. You were too caught up in the shock of his surprising allure to notice just where his eyes had landed. 

        It was only when you felt your arm being lifted away from your body that you were shaken from your daze. “Hey-”

        “Hmm.”

        Your brows furrowed. “‘Hmm’?” You tried to rip your wrist from his iron-tight grip but you soon noticed the effort was useless. “What the hell does that mean?”

        “Your soulmate…” he trailed off, cheek twitching as he glanced away. “He is…”

        “What?”

        “He’s…” the man set his jaw and returned his gaze to yours. You only noticed there had been a warmth in his eyes when it was gone; all he gave you now was stone-cold nothingness. “He’s dead.”

        His gloved hand dropped your right wrist and it only flopped down to your side. He’s dead. Whatever emotion you’d had on your face dropped in exchange for a blank slate. Tears pricked your eyes and yet you felt stupid for even mourning someone you’d never met. 

        “Oh.” 

        The logical part of you that had shriveled to the size of a worm still questioned the relevance of this all. How did this man know your soulmate? Why had he been so adamant on seeing his name in the first place? What did he have to do with any of this?

        The man you still had no name for clenched his jaw and turned away as a tear slipped down your cheek. 

        “We have no use for you.”

        “What-”

        “You will be returned to where you were found. Now that we know you have no relation to the Resistance, your name will not be blacklisted and you will be left alone.”

        “Why-”

        He left no room for your confused--albeit broken--questions as he turned away and pressed his hand against a glowing panel near the entrance to the room. The door slid open to reveal a blinding, white hallway guarded by a single stormtrooper. 

        “Hey, wait!” You tugged against the restraints as your eyes stayed locked on his back, only to crash onto the cold floor when the clasps suddenly released. “Oof!”

        Click. With his mask situated back over his face, he finally faced you once more, his soldier standing at attention by his side. 

        “I’m sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you.”

                                +++

        “YN, you’re back!” 

        The Resistance leader, Leia, glanced up from the holopad. Her dark brows raised high enough to meet her hairline as her lips separated in shock. 

        “YN.”

        You struggled to meet her eyes or even fake a smile at the one who had greeted you. “General,” you cringed at your raw voice, feeling the onset of crying side-effects attack you all at once, “can we talk in private… please?”

        Leia schooled in her surprise enough to nod at the other Resistance members, gesturing her head towards the exit just behind you. They filed out accordingly, each one more concerned than the last about your distraught appearance. 

        Finally, when it was just the two of you left in the room, Leia directed you to the table she stood at, shutting down the holopad so the only light in the room buzzed from the ceiling, flickering every two seconds due to the overgrown tree roots weaving in and out of each electric wire. 

        “YN, I’m so sorry we got separated on that mission. I never meant for you to be left behind like that.” Leia shook her head at herself in shame, but something told you she was avoiding eye contact for a reason. “Did you-... are you okay?”

        “Yes,” you nodded, dropping into a single leather chair sitting at a computer a few feet away from the holopad’s table. “Yeah, for some reason, I’m fine. They-,” you glanced at your wrist before swallowing and returning your eyes to her face, “-they let me go. I don’t know why they did, but they let me go.”

        “Did you-”

        “General,” you interrupted with a shake of your head, “please, I need to tell you something.”

        Leia got the hint and grabbed the second chair in the room, sitting with a straight back and hands splayed out on her lap. They seemed to twitch for something--something like a weapon to protect herself. You guessed it was a habit of hers, but since you had only known her for six  months or so, you tried not to think too much of it. 

        Ever since she had found you holed up in your home hiding from the First Order soldiers that had attacked your town, she had taken you in. “Something about you,” she had said with a knowing smile, “I just want to make sure you’re safe.” She had treated you like her own daughter, much different from how she’d treat the other Rebels. Every two seconds, she would scan you for injuries or ask if you were okay. She’d even let you stay in her own home, in a spare room. 

        At least, you had thought it was a spare room. 

        It only took her two months of knowing you before she revealed the name on your wrist was her son’s. The very room you stayed in had been his, Ben Solo’s, and she’d wanted to make sure her son’s soulmate was safe and healthy in case she’d ever found him again. 

        She’d told you the story of how she got separated from him during a skirmish with the First Order and ever since she’d been searching for him. 

        It was only today that you knew she needed to give up the search. 

        “Leia, I-,” your breathing grew quicker and your headache grew worse and before you knew it, you were shedding tears. “Leia, I’m so sorry.”

        The former princess tensed up and reached a hand toward you. “YN, what-”

        “He’s gone,” you whispered, shaking your head and pursing your lips, “I found out when I got captured.”

        “Kylo’s dead?” she breathed out, eyes growing forlorn. You paused, raising your eyes to study her face. 

        “What?” You sniffled, wiping away the tears and growing confused at her words. “What do you mean? Who’s Kylo?”

        “The man who…” Leia’s words broke off when a sort of realization dawned in her eyes. “Oh.”

        You were at a loss for words, utterly confused at her silence when you noticed something. 

        Her eyes. Her nose. The hair, the nervous habits, the “lost” family pictures, all of it. 

        “Kylo was the man who captured me,” you muttered, eyes growing wide and thumb running over your wrist, “but he’s not Kylo on my wrist, is he?”

        Leia was trained in keeping secrets and her expression was as calm as one could expect, but it was only for one single reason. 

        She wanted to let you down easy.

        “No, YN. His name used to be Ben Solo.”

        “And it’s not anymore.”

        “No. Now he goes by Kylo Ren,” she closed her eyes and dropped her head. “That’s his name now… in the First Order.” 

        “You knew?” A spark of betrayal flickered in the pit of your stomach. Though he was Leia’s son, he was also your soulmate. Some part of you felt like you had a right to know what had happened to him--especially if he had done something as significant as turning to the dark side. 

        Instead, she had lied to you, omitting just enough of the truth that you would stick around. 

        Lord knows you would have left months ago if you had learned of the person he had turned into. 

        A thought hit you--a terrible, painful thought that had you gulping and biting your cheek. “Did…” your fingernails dig into your palms to steady your breathing, “did you want me to get captured? By him?”

        Her lack of a response was all you needed to know. 

        “Oh, my God. You knew. You knew the entire time. That’s why you took me in. You thought I could save him.”

        “YN, please, I had to-”

        “You didn’t have to do anything,” you clenched your eyes closed, resentment overtaking anguish deep in your chest. “You didn’t have to lead me to him like a lamb to the slaughter.”

        More tears fell, and the one person you thought you could trust in this galaxy only sat by and watched, opening and closing her mouth without a single word escaping. 

        “I just wanted my son back,” she finally whispered, “I didn’t want him to lose himself like my father had.” 

        “Yeah,” you scoffed, licking your lips and rising from your seat. “Well, now you’ve just lost another person.”

        “YN, wait-”

        “I’m leaving,” you breathed out, shaking your head hopelessly, “so please don’t bother coming after me.”

        Nobody said a word to you as you walked to the nearest empty craft and boarded, and the only ones who tried were hushed by Leia. 

        “Let her go. She wants to be alone now.”

                                +++

        The bar was chattier than usual, though you blamed it on being a Friday afternoon. The outside was hot and though you could still feel the beating sun through the glass windows, the tan building was a hell of a lot cooler. Air conditioning clanked and buzzed as you cleaned glasses and bused bottles. 

        “YN,” the bartender of the night handed you a damp rag and gestured to a table just over the bar ledge, “stop moping around or I’ll cut more than your paycheck.”

        You sighed and grimaced, accepting the dripping cloth before tiptoeing your way around the many customers already reaching their alcoholic limits. 

        Only two weeks had passed since the worst day of your life and you still felt the sting of betrayal and rejection. Not only had the man you were supposed to spend the rest of your life ended up being the daunting Supreme Leader of the First Order, but the woman you had almost grown to love as your own mother had delivered you straight into the palms of his hands. 

        You were lost and confused, trying to find some sort of way to keep traveling across the galaxy by making money anyway possible. Sadly, only bounty hunter bars seemed interested in allowing an unknown, unwanted female to wash their dishes and tables. 

        “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, wedging a used fork under what must’ve been the third piece of gum stuck to a wooden chair that day. Gambling and poker around the room must have reached an all-time high as cheers and groans ringed in your ears. An all-around unpleasant buzz settled directly between your temples as you bit your lip, scraping at the gum harder and harder until finally--finally--the last string of green tore away from the seat and gathered around the fork’s prongs. 

        Forearm burning, you almost permitted yourself a small cheer in success until you noticed a change in the bar’s atmosphere. 

        Everyone was dead silent as the bell atop the entryway stopped jingling. The wooden door creaked to a close and five to ten pairs of heavy footsteps thumped against the dusty concrete of the bar’s floor. 

        Panic froze you like a deer in headlights, hoping your location in the back corner of the bar hid you from whoever had entered. You didn’t even dare raise your head for fear of drawing attention to yourself. 

        The person who had the power to silence a crowd of former soldiers, bounty hunters, and drunk mechanics was not someone you wanted the focus of. 

        More footsteps pounded on the floor, drawing closer before a familiar voice spoke up. 

        “Clear everyone out,” Kylo ordered. “Then leave us.” 

        Your heart jumped at his firm, mechanized tone and a warm wave of fuzzy feelings washed over you. After being by your bitter self for so long, you suppose the new emotion wasn’t completely unwanted. You just… weren’t sure if you were happy about its cause. 

        Eyes still locked on the tabletop, you listened as people filed out of the building without question, more than likely at gunpoint with hands raised above their heads. A solid five minutes passed before the room was left completely empty aside from you and your soulmate, and you chastised yourself for deriving some sort of pleasure out of the opportunity of getting to see him again. 

        “YN.”

        “Why are you here?” You spun around to face him, surprised to find his hand outstretched and reaching towards you. Almost immediately, it dropped to his side as he straightened his posture. 

        Deep down, your heart glowed at his presence, and you hated it. You hated that even after everything that had happened, everything you had learned, that you still wanted to see him. You wanted to feel his touch and see his face again. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted to see your own name in your own handwriting on his wrist. 

        You cursed at whoever had placed his name on your wrist, because you were falling for the man before you before you had even seen his face twice. 

        Kylo’s hands raised from his side, pausing midway for just a second before reaching up fully and removing his helmet. Like before, it clicked and pulled away with a hiss and, of course, his hair looked untouched. 

        That said nothing of his appearance, however. 

        His eyes held dark circles you didn’t quite remember from your last meeting and his lips seemed paler. The brown locks, as you took a second closer look, seemed more flat and dull than you remembered. 

        Maybe it had been the glory of your first meeting, or maybe it just so happened to be that he was feeling as bad as you had been without having your soulmate by your side. 

        No, it wasn’t physical, like a stabbing pain in your side. It had been more like a piece of yourself had been missing; like there was a hole in your heart that ached and ached, but you just didn’t know how to solve it. 

        Seeing Kylo now made it fade just a little, but just as much time together would be needed to heal how much time you had spent apart. 

        The Supreme Leader set down his helmet just next to your forgotten rag and gum-fork on the table before returning his attention to you. With a twitch of a muscle in his jaw, he met your eyes and spoke. 

        “I thought tracking you down would have been hard, and yet you decided to find home in a place where information can be bought at any price.”

        “Maybe I wanted to be found.” The words slipped from your lips without volition but you couldn’t deny their truth. You wanted to see him again because, though your first meeting had only lasted minutes, you found it hard to focus on anything else.

        His lips twitched at your confession and he took that as an invitation to step closer. “I’m glad then.” 

        “Kylo-”

        “Because you’re coming with me,” he latched a hand around your wrist, “willingly or not.”

        Your eyes widened and some part of you screamed to pull away; maybe it was the logical part of your brain, or perhaps it was your brain altogether.

        Either way, you didn’t care to listen.

        “I’ll go with you,” you nodded, “but only on one condition.”

        Hazel eyes met yours and he nodded curtly. “Anything.”

        “Let me see my name.”

        His brows furrowed for a split second before he released your wrist and removed his right glove, tugging up his sleeve and flashing just the minimum amount of bare skin. 

        YN YLN. Same easy handwriting, a little too heavy in the beginning but lighter in tone at the end. Your name was a bold black, a stark contrast from the rest of his paled wrist. 

        Without a word, you reached forward and snagged his hand, running your index finger over the name and smiling at the quick breath he sucked in. 

        You felt it too--the rush of pure endorphins travelling down your spine, through every nerve ending in your body. 

        Unconcealed happiness. Sheer pleasure. You shivered a tad at the giddiness running through your veins. 

        Kylo was much better at concealing his emotions, allowing only a small tilt of the corner of his lips while his pupils widened at the feeling. 

        “I’ll go with you,” you nodded, a small grin making its way onto your face. “I want… I want to be with you.” If possible, his eyes glowed even brighter and a hint of adoration creased the corner of his lids.

        “Good.” Ever so hesitantly, he reached a hand up to cup the side of your face. “Then we shall rule this galaxy together, my empress.” You leaned into his hold and pressed a hand against his own, intertwining your fingers with his against your cheek.

        “Just one more request.”

        “Anything for you.”

        “Stop wearing that goddamned mask.”

Your writing is amazing. You clearly have a talent and im glad i get to see it!!

Oh thank you so much!! This comment makes me really happy, so I’m glad I get to see your writing too lol 🥰💜

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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i love your writing! if it's ok can i request something nsfw with yandere zuko (your hc for him were really good)

Hot With Envy (Yandere Zuko x Reader) (NSFW)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After seeing you laugh with another man at his five-year reign celebration, Zuko must show you who you belong to. 

A/N: Hey, so I finally got part of my life in order. Woohoo. Thankfully, that allowed me to finally finish this request. I’m sorry it took me a while, and I can’t promise that the others won’t end up the same way, but I hope this at least tickles ur fancy. Enjoy!

Warnings: Possessive sex, dirty talk, vaginal sex

Word count: 2916

        “God, YN. I can’t fucking believe you.” 

        Zuko was pissed. More than pissed, he was infuriated. Steam blew out of his nose every step he took as he led you out of the ballroom. 

        The fifth anniversary of Zuko’s reign as the new fire lord, and he had only lasted twenty minutes. 

        “What did I even do?!” The more you tried to pull out of his straining grip, the more bruising it became. You’ve seen Zuko jealous, possessive, hell, even straight up obsessive, but never have you seen him so green-eyed as tonight. If he grew any angrier, your hand would fall clean off. 

        “What did you do? What did you do?! Are you trying to piss me off?” 

        By the looks of it, he was dragging you towards his bedroom. The maroon halls of the Fire Nation Royal Palace were like no other; decked out in vases and other artworks of the past millennium, you didn’t dare look into the eyes of a royal painting for fear that it would fall and you would have to pay for damages. 

        “Zuko, come on. Just tell me what I did!”         His bitter laugh makes your teeth grind. “You really wanna know?”

        “Yes!”

        “You wore that stupid dress. Then you walked into that stupid party looking stupidly beautiful. Then you talked to that stupid guy!”

        “...And?”

        His storming down the halls slowed to a halt. 

        “‘And’? Fuck, YN. You’re absolutely clueless, and that’s coming from me.”

        It took you only a second to realize he had stopped directly in front of his bedroom. You weren’t an idiot; you knew where this was going. 

        “Zuko, stop. That’s your party out there. We can’t just abandon it while guests are still in attendance.” 

        “Why do you want to go back there so bad, YN?” You still hadn’t gotten a chance to see his face, but judging by the tightness in his tone, he was just as agitated as when you both left, if not more. 

        “I-I don’t-”

        “Do you want to see that man again?” The doors to his bedroom swing open hard enough to slam against the walls, leaving a harsh bang to echo around the room. When he turned back to you, there was a glint in his eyes you had never seen before. “Because trust me, my love, after tonight, the only person you’ll be able to think of is me.”

        His chambers were dark and spacious, with the ruby drapes drawn to cover the raised moon in the sky. The black carpet softened every step you took as Zuko dragged you to the center of the room, just where the bed sat. 

        It was large and lonely. The silk, crimson covers of the bed were pulled so taut over the mattress it looked as if nobody has slept there in ages. Two pillows stood at the beadboard, one too many for just Zuko. Four marble bed posts framed each corner, all leading up to connect with the high ceilings. Curtains hung between each, casting shadows over the bed from the candlelight in the corner. Zuko must have lit them while you were distracted with observing. 

        Otherwise, the room was filled with darkness, the one light barely enough to help your straining eyes. Before you could even see him coming, Zuko latched his hand back over your wrist and tugged you hard enough to have you stumbling into the bed, tripping and falling into the cozy blankets that swallowed you easily. 

        “Zuko.” You weren’t quite sure what you wanted to say. Maybe “stop,” or “let’s slow down.” You didn’t get a chance to decide.

        Seconds after you fell, he followed, his legs encompassing only one of your thighs. 

        After he dug his knee into your mound, you figured out why. 

        A moan slipped from your lips, causing Zuko to give you a smirk. Only when your hands came up to press against his chest did he capture them in his own, gathering them in a single grip and forcing them above your head. With his free hand, he trailed a finger down your cheek before cupping your jaw. 

        “Don’t worry, my love. There’s plenty more to come.” 

        At the words, his eyes darted down your body, tongue sweeping out over his lips before he slammed his mouth onto yours. 

        “Mmm,” you could only hum as he kissed you with a fevered passion. Body pressing yours deeper into the bed, he dug his knee harder against your clothed core, the pure heat radiating from his body making it seem like there were no barriers at all. 

        “Zuko.” His name escaped your lips in a breathy moan, and left him panting as he leaned his forehead against yours. 

        “That’s right, YN. Let everyone know who’s doing this to you.” Before you could respond, he sunk his teeth into the juncture of your neck, forcing you to mewl and jerk against his knee. His tongue peeked out to soothe the reddened skin, lapping up the growing sweat on your neck at the same time. 

        More, more, more. That’s all you could think of, and soon enough, you were practically humping Zuko’s leg like a bitch in heat. Though, he didn’t seem to mind one bit. 

        “Look at you, fucking yourself against me. I don’t even have to touch you to get you off.” A rip cut through the otherwise silent room like a hot knife through butter, and it took you a minute to realize what had truly happened. 

        Your dress slid off with ease, and when Zuko tossed it aside, you could see the torn threads spanning along the back of the fabric. With only a wrap over your breasts and-- albeit soaked-- panties to cover your twitching core, you couldn’t help but suddenly grow embarrassed at the situation. 

        “Wait, Zuko, maybe we should slow-” his lips recapture yours before you can finish, and his free hand begins to slide from your chin down to your collarbone. His fingertips, like little brushes of a feather, travel lower and lower until they meet the top of your white breast cloth. They dip inside, just into the space formed by the valley of your chest, and just as viciously as your dress, they rip the material away and toss it aside. 

        A burn was left behind at the harsh rip against your skin, but it’s quickly forgotten in exchange for Zuko massaging your mounds in his hand. Pleasure shoots through your core when he pinches the peaks, grinning against your lips at the whine you give off. 

        “Do you want someone else to touch you like this, YN?” Heavy-lidded eyes burn into your own, waiting with impatience for your answer. 

        “No, Zuko, only you- ah!” Your voice breaks off into a squeal when he pinches them once again before sliding off the bed to undress himself. Your chest heaves while you wait for him to return, and in that time, a thought flits through your mind-- you could touch yourself to relieve some of the ache. 

        The man seems to read your mind, and he tsks. “Don’t even think about it, love. You don’t want more punishments, do you?”

        The spanks, the hot touches, the rough bites. You couldn’t lie; the repercussions didn’t seem too terrible considering you would at least find release, but before your hand reaches down fast enough, Zuko’s already snagged it in a tight grip. 

        “Shit, you’re really that horny, love? Well fuck, let’s make this quick then, shall we?”

        In an instant, he drops your hand in exchange for your ankles, dragging you to the edge of the bed before forcing your legs apart. His thick length stands at attention by his stomach, leaving your juices to drip down your thighs in clear droplets. 

        Sightseeing doesn’t last long, and soon Zuko’s flipped you onto your stomach, propping up your knees and dragging a finger up the slick of your wet panties. 

        “This,” he growls, pulling aside the black lace enough to leave your throbbing core bare for him to see, “belongs to me.” Hands push your knees further apart, enough that your wetness can only drip down onto the sheets instead of trailing down your thighs. 

        Slap! A hand collides with the skin of your left cheek hard enough to have you cry out. “Say it, YN.” 

        “It belongs to you!”

        Slap! Another hit to the other cheek and you bury your face into the blankets, pleasure mingling with pain as Zuko less-than-gently rubs the abused flesh of your backside. 

        “You got that fucking right.”

        Then, before you acknowledge what’s happening, Zuko’s pushing himself deep inside you, faster than you can adjust and leaving behind a feeling no different than tearing your body in half. 

        “UNGH!” Instinctively, your back straightens and you try to crawl away, but another spank and Zuko’s bottomed out inside you. His member stretches your fluttering walls enough to the point of an unbearable burn, but luckily, he has enough mercy to allow you to adjust. 

        Tears prick your eyes and your fingers curl into the sheets, trying to bear the sudden intrusion as best as possible. And soon enough, you feel the ache begin to fade. 

        Zuko’s had enough sense to stop, hearing the way you cried under his first thrust, but he can’t bring himself to feel bad anymore when you begin pushing back against him. “Fuck,” he hisses when you purposefully clench around him. 

        Before you know it, he’s become feral. 

        The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the dark room in a frantic pattern as Zuko thrusts into you at a bruising pace. 

        “Ngh. Harder, Zuko!”

        He doesn’t disappoint, and soon, he’s driving you into the mattress with every thrust, one hand holding you in place on your hips while the other digs into your hair and yanks your head back. 

        “Shit, you’re so tight. So tight just for me, YN.”

        Mouth forming an “o” shape, you can’t even respond aas your eyes roll back from the pleasure. Your moans almost drown out the loud cracking of the headboard against the wall, and distantly, you know it could draw some curious eyes--

        “Look at your naughty little hole. Taking me so well.” 

        But you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. The feeling of his shaft dragging against your g-spot, pulling out just far enough to caress your swollen bud before plunging back inside has a coil tightening in your stomach. 

        “Fuckkkk. Zuko, I’m close!”

        “Already, love?” 

        The hand in your hair tugs hard enough to strain your scalp as Zuko pulls you up onto your knees, his chest flush to your back. With the new angle, Zuko rams into the special spot deep in your hole with every single-- holy fuck-- thrust. 

        “Who fucks you this good?” His hand untangles from your strands and reaches up around your throat. 

        “Zuko!” You throw your head back onto his shoulder and dig a hand into his sweaty hair, pulling his face down to your neck. At your silent command, his lips run up and down the skin, sucking on the skin between breaths and grunts. He follows dutifully as your body jolts back and forth, shaken violently with each drive of his hips. 

        “Who’s the only one that makes you feel like this?” 

        “Noooo- ah shit!” You can barely hold yourself up when Zuko’s hand, hot by his own command, rubs furious circles into your swollen bud. The act has you grinding into his hand while it throws you into a tailspin of pleasure, head growing foggy as you only chase a release. 

        “Nuh-uh,” he groans out, hand slowing just enough to have you whine, “say my name, love.”

        “Zuko, please! Keep going!” You have to choke out the words, the hand around your neck just tight enough to keep your breathing quick but loose so that you can speak. Your fingers tighten in his hair and around his wrist, one tugging his lips closer to your hot skin while the other keeps his hand assaulting your clit. 

        It’s too much, and you know it’s too much, but his hold on you from every end is stronger than iron. Your back arches at a particularly deep thrust that has the head of his member brushing your cervix. “Oh GOD! Zuko, I’m so close!”

        The constant clenching of your core around his length has already revealed this to him, and he keeps the fast pace that has you oh-so willing to beg.

        “Oh yeah, love? Tell me then, who owns you?”

        “More!”

        “Nope.” He pinches your clit hard enough that you spasm, but not enough to trigger your release. 

        “AGH!”

        “Say it, YN,” he captures your earlobe between his teeth. “Who owns you?”

        You can’t speak, too lost in pleasure to comprehend a word he was grunting into your ear. Each time he sinks into your dripping hole, he rubs your bud in tandem. You couldn’t even open your mouth at this point without drool dribbling down your chin. 

        “One more chance, love. Who owns you?” His teeth grit with impatience, and by now, he’s lost all rhythm. Erratically, he drives into you from behind, hips now leaving your backside red with fresh bruises. Then finally, finally, the bubble bursts.

        “ZUKO!” The scream of his name ripped through your throat just as harshly as your orgasm, liquid running down your thighs and soaking into the bed like spilled water. During this, you clench so tightly around him, Zuko almost blacks out from the feeling, releasing inside you just as fast. 

        As you fall from your high, your body begins to come back down, instantly feeling the side effects of staying in one position for too long. Your thighs whine and shiver before going just numb enough that you fall forward, Zuko having no other option than to collapse on top of you.

        His body is hot and sweaty, overheating you enough that you squirm and wiggle underneath him until he gets the hint. 

        “Oh, sorry.” 

        The phase of confidence is over as he slips out of you, allowing both of your juices to flood out of you in a delicious mixture Zuko eyes up proudly. Not long after does he fall into the space beside you, still panting and heaving in breaths while he wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

        “Come here.” 

        He doesn’t have to ask twice. Cuddles with Zuko after sex were silent and peaceful, usually followed by a shared nap for rest. 

        You settle your head onto his chest, ear right over his racing heartbeat as you lay a hand on his flexing stomach. 

        “That was…” you couldn’t even answer, instead shaking your head and settling for a grin in Zuko’s direction. 

        Though his face grows red, he nods in agreement, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Yeah,” he whispers, “it was.”

        The dim room falls into a silence not uncommon nor uncomfortable. Though sweaty, you both stuck to each other on purpose, wanting to be close after such a time. 

        When your breathing begins to slow is when Zuko speaks up again. 

        “Hey, YN?” 

        “Yeah?” It’s more of a yawn than a question.

        “You meant what you said, right?” 

        “What do you mean?” You peer up at him, a little flustered to see such an intense look in Zuko’s normally shy gaze.

        “When you said you belonged to me. You meant it, right?”

        Oh yeah, that did happen. In the heat of the moment, you would honestly say anything for such euphoria. Now, though, you wondered if that would one day be your downfall. 

        “Umm… well….” You wanted the conversation to die out and never be brought up again, but Zuko’s emboldened gaze was insistent. 

        “Well?”

        “Y-yes,” you drop your ear back to his heart and nod your head. “I meant it.” Anything to get out of this awkward situation. 

        “Good, my love. I’m glad. Now that I own you, no man will ever touch you again. I promise.” 

        Oh God, what trap have you just fallen into?

        With that, he rolled over and draped both an arm and a leg over your body, effectively trapping you to the mattress. 

        “Good night, my queen.”

        “Good n-night, Zuko.”

                                ~~~

        “Fire Lord Zuko.” 

        His eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was you. Your beautiful face, serene and peaceful in your slumber, framed by the sunshine peeking through the drapes behind your head. Ever so carefully, he untangled himself from around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead before ushering the guard to the hall. 

        “Did you manage to find him?”

        “Yes, my lord.” The soldier averted his gaze as Zuko tightened his robe and shoved on a pair of sandals. Once he appeared modest enough for the rest of the castle, the guard began to lead him through the corridors to a dank stairway. “We’ve left him in cell seven for you.” 

        “Good. Now I can show him what happens when you try to go after my love.”

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!

Yandere Ushijima Headcanons

*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🤠

Are there any good x reader authors out there, or is everyone still being sold as a sex slave to one direction?

I love your writing, thank you for taking the time to make and share it with us 💖 I hope your schooling’s going well! Good luck and please make sure to take care of yourself too!

You’re such a sweetheart🥺🥺 thank you so much! Honestly, I just logged back onto here for the first time in weeks and I really forgot how much support you guys have given me💜💜 it makes me feel really special and I hope you’re all doing great too☺️

(Ps: school is going great! How about you?💕)

Hurts to Forget (Bakugou x Reader)

*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!”

Breakup Prank (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

Setter Version (Part 1)

A/N: damn it’s been a while since i did this, gotta love some crack fics tho. Hope you like ‘em!

Sugawara, Atsumu, Koganegawa