I...I Can't Not Express How Good Your Yandere Michael Gray Fic Was OH MY GOD It Was So Well Written.

I just read the guppy love (shouto) oh my it was just so cute sfsedfergdidridtjr anyways are you planning to make a continuation? *silently egging author-chan to qwq* anyways your writing is phenomenal as always!! Please take care of your health and stay safe ily uwu)/❤❤✨

Akfjfjidkd I’m so glad you like that one🥰 definitely one of my favorites and though I don’t exactly have any ideas for a sequel, it’s definitely near the top of my lists for fics I need to write a part 2 for!

I’m so happy you like my writing🥺🥺 and u stay safe too💖💜

Telling Him He’s Hot (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

(Setter Version)

A/N: Not much again. Gets a lil saucy at times, just a warning. Enjoy, and thank you for 1.4k followers!

Bokuto for me is an obssesive and unstable yandere. I feel like he would force his darling to play the doting housewife for him. And he sees her not paying him enough attention, he will flip and either (1) beat her up or (2) fuck her until she's a blabbering mess 😌

You right, you right😤 he’s definitely fallen so far over the edge that he thinks you’re okay with what he does to you.

When he comes home from volleyball games, I can totally see him having you obey a strict daily routine of a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and then you bring him dinner and cuddle.

Honestly tho, there is solid evidence that this boy would love to see you covered in marks from his hands, sexual or otherwise.

(Can you imagine the smirk when he’s pounding into you? “Fuck yeah, YN, keep saying my name. Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this, baby?”)

If you’re requests are open, do you think you could do a part 2 of the yandere Michael Gray fic? I really loved it! Have a good day/night :))

Dudeeee I’ve been dying to write more Yandere Michael Gray fics but istg my mind is like a dried-up well rn. If u got any ideas, I’d love to hear em!

Ps I’m glad you liked it!

here’s a request, okay so like i’ve been sad recently so how would Tsuki, Bokuto, and Kenma (separately) cheer up their s/o who’s sad, thank you :) hopefully you do it, if you don’t it’s totally cool!

Cheering Up Sad S/O (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! Umm, and I know I’m not really qualified to help or anything, but I know one thing that always makes me feel better is laughing. Even if it’s forced, laughing always feels good to me, so maybe it’ll help you too! Anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

Word count: 802

Tsukishima Kei:

Honestly, he doesn’t take you seriously at first. 

Let’s be real, Tsukishima is shit with emotions

So he thinks you’re kind of just throwing a fit in the beginning. 

Then you start crying or just start being more quiet than usual and then he thinks oh SHIT.

He starts by standing beside you and just awkwardly patting your head.

Then he sighs and brings out the big guns, dragging you to the couch and setting you down there. 

He leaves and comes back five minutes later with popcorn, drinks and piles of blankets and he just cuddles you while watching his favorite tv show (documentary about dinos whattt)

I mean ur like crying so u can’t see the screen, right??

He’s got his lanky arms wrapped around you and you’re laying on top of him trying to steady your breathing. 

When you do, you give him a small kiss and mutter thank you before untucking your face. 

He’ll nod and then ask what you want to watch and that’ll be that. 

Basically yeah he’s gonna be extremely awkward around you cuz that’s just Tsukki.

But after he gets over his initial shock and is like “oh crap, I’m the boyfriend here, I’m the one who solves this,” he just gives you his best snuggles under the claim that he’s keeping you warm. 

“If you’re tears dry when you’re cold, then you could get hypothermia.” 

“Pshh, yeah did the T-rex tell you that?”

He’ll own up to it in the end and legitimately ask if you’re okay. You almost tear up at his sincerity but nod anyways and tackle him in a big hug once more. 

(He smiles lightly against your hair and rubs your back while enjoying the feeling of having you against him.)

Bokuto Koutarou:

Usually, you’re just as chipper as Bokuto is, so when you’re down in the dumps, he is too. 

Goes emo mode almost instantly when he notices you’re sad. 

Then he smacks himself out of it.

He carries you bridal style into a grocery store and lets you pick out your favorite snacks.

Y’all go home and he makes a whole-ass nest of blankets and pillows on the living room floor. 

Pillow Fort™

No movies or tv shows with sad scenes are allowed in this domain. Only comedies and fluff flicks.

He’ll feed you candy then beg you to feed him some too.

By the end of the night, he’s given you a massage, a bubble bath, and a cuddle to sleep.

He’s a big teddy bear, but also a solid teddy bear, so he’s a lil hard to snuggle with, but he’s warm so you don’t care. 

In the end, expect many hugs and kisses from this man, he is a very physical lover. 

And yes, the next day you will get breakfast in bed. Or brunch technically bc you both slept in till eleven.

Kozume Kenma:

This man is a listener. That’s all I gotta say.

He’ll let you vent about everything that’s been going on, and let’s be honest, there’s really nothing better than that.

He’s just about the best guy to have around when you’re sad.

If you want a hug, just ask and he’ll give you one. If you want a kiss, he’ll give you one too.

Honestly, he just wants to see you go back to being your normal happy self, so he’ll appeal to your every wish. 

I mean… that’s it.

After you’ve vented all your problems, he’ll ask what else you wanna do.

You want hugs. And that’s a fact. 

So yeah, he’ll give you hugs, and then he’ll give you his hoodie, and then he’ll give you his game and show you how to play cuz this boy is 🥺 level 100

He’s been sad before (I mean they all have but Kenma doesn’t like having a sad s/o) so he wants you to feel better as soon as possible. 

“You’re pressing the wrong buttons, YN.”

“No I’m not! This game is just STUPID!”

“YOU’RE STUP- I mean, yes the game is very stupid, yes.”

Guess who doesn’t get to touch his gameboy anymore.

By the end of the day, you’re both passed out in bed holding each other. Each of you is swaddled in his huge hoodies and cradling each other closely. 

*Next day*

“Kenma, where’s your game? I think I know how to play now.”

“I lost it.”

(Press X to Doubt)

You Told Me So (Sugawara x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: He was right. You should've brought a jacket before trekking outside on a rainy day. You just wish he would say he was right. 

A/N: Should I start watching Avatar: The Last Airbender? Anyways, here’s a lil imagine I got an idea for from this prompt by @otpdisaster​. Hope y’all like it!

Word count: 1684

        You made a mistake. 

        “YN, wear a jacket before you go out!”

        “I’ll be fine, babe.”

        You were wrong. Rain seeped through your clothes quicker than you thought possible. All it was supposed to be was a quick run to the store. The day was sunny and the sidewalk could blister bare feet when you had left. Sugawara had repeatedly warned you about the day’s weather report, but you were certain you could beat it out. If only you had listened.

        The short-sleeve t-shirt you wore was absolutely soaked, along with your flimsy black leggings. The tag on your tennis shoes had claimed they were waterproof when you had first bought them; apparently that was wrong. Puddles splashed and your socks squelched with every step you took, and all you could do was feel sorry for yourself. Every few seconds you twitched with an involuntary shiver as you made your way home. 

        Thunder rumbled overhead as the day came to a close. It was around seven at night, and although your boyfriend was sweet, no one could resist the smugness of your situation. He was right. With chattering teeth, you stumbled up the steps to his house, halting only to take a deep breath at his door. 

        Yeah, that’s right, you were nervous. No shame in that…. Never mind, all shame in that. You were never one to back down, even when you knew you were in the wrong, and right now, you were really in the wrong. Fist raised over the door, you couldn’t help but just stand there, biting your trembling bottom lip and sniffling occasionally. This is gonna be so embarrassing. 

        Knock knock.

        Movements inside the house are audible from your placement in front of the door, and you suck in a breath when the lock clicks. As soon as the man on the other side spots you, the entryway whips open in the blink of an eye. 

        “YN,” Sugawara breathes out, but you hold up a hand to stop him from continuing. 

        “I know what you’re gonna say,” you exclaim before avoiding his intense gaze, “but- oof.”

        Air puffs out of your lips in a visible cloud as he tackles you in a bear hug. The drastic change in temperature compels you to sigh, and you tuck your red-tipped nose into his collarbone. 

        “God, you’re freezing, YN!” With one final squeeze, Sugawara pulls away and tugs you inside, sealing away the glacial climate with a slam of the door. He drops his hands on your trembling shoulders and ushers you to his living room, plopping you down on his couch before exiting without another word. 

        You, on the other hand, were frozen in surprise. All you could do was sit blindsided on the suede cushions, arms laying limply by your sides as your shoes oozed rainwater on the redwood floors. The TV across from you lit up your face with your favorite series, all ready to be watched. It was, after all, date night. 

        Footfalls patter back into the room before Sugawara stands before you, holding out a pile of clothes. “Here,” he helps you up off the couch and leads you down a dim hallway, “you need to change before you catch a cold. I just hope you don’t already have one.” You arrive at your destination, his bedroom, where he passes you the dry clothing with furrowed brows. “I’ll be in the kitchen, so just holler if you need something.”

        And with that, he leaves you to change in the comfort of your own privacy. Throughout all of this, the only thing you could do was watch with wide eyes at his actions. 

        You knew your boyfriend, but you also knew basic human instinct. Why is he not rubbing this in my face? You were baffled at his self-control, at his ability to resist the urge to stick it to you. 

        Like seriously, come on! What kind of person doesn’t say “I told you so” after something like this?

        “God, he’s too perfect.” You shake your head and pick through the outfit he gave you. A large, baggy sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Both types of clothing that you often steal from him on a weekly basis. Your heart stutters at the selection, and you laugh softly at his observational skills. “Who the hell am I dating?”

        Damp hair, pruned fingers, and trembling muscles. You were quite the sight to behold, and you actively avoided the mirror on your wall. Slipping on the new, soft clothes, you let out a relieved breath at the shift in sensations. You reveled in the oversized fabrics with ease, flapping the too-long sleeves and cinching the sweatpants’ strings until they no longer sagged below your hips. 

        Still wary of his surprising affection, you hesitantly creep out into the hallway, leaving your damp clothes behind in his laundry basket. You would grab them before you left. On your way to the living room, you pass the kitchen and find Sugawara still inside, rinsing out a pot in the sink. Two mugs rest on the marble counter, steaming and teeming with white marshmallows. The scent of rich chocolate hangs in the air, and you don’t hesitate to join him in the room. 

        Winding your goosebump-covered arms around his slim waist, you embrace him from behind and hum gently. “I hope some of that’s for me.”

        “Of course, baby,” he chuckles, grabbing the hot chocolates before trailing you over to the living room. It’s darker than before, and your show still waits on the large screen, paused just at a recap of the previous episode. Sugawara lays them down on the coffee table before turning in your arms, returning the hug and rubbing your back comfortingly. 

        “You still feel cold,” he places a hand on your forehead and tsks. “Let me go get some blankets. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He forces you down on the couch once again and steps away to search in his hall closet. 

        Every action he does leaves your heart thumping, even though you’ve been dating for a little over a year. He was still so sweet, and you still struggle to comprehend how you managed to catch a guy like him. 

        “Whatcha smiling about?” Sugawara smirks at you, dropping a pile of blankets on your lap the size of Mount Everest. 

        “You,” you reply honestly, almost purring when he wraps the thick comforters around your shoulders tightly. After every single one is draped around you, your boyfriend only grins in response, dropping down onto the couch beside you and winding an arm around your waist. 

        He hands you your scalding mug before grabbing his own, and you allow your frost-bitten fingers to pat the burning porcelain carefully. While taking ginger, intermittent sips, you both bask in each other's presence and enjoy the television entertainment. 

        An hour passes, and you both have moved to lie back against the couch. Your light-haired boyfriend rests underneath you while you sprawl out on his chest, greedily accepting any warmth he has to offer. One hand rests on your hip while the other brushes through your hair tenderly, and both of your own lose feeling underneath his form, but you don’t have the energy to move them. 

        The only sounds in the room are your level inhales and exhales and the show quietly droning on in the background as you embrace each other. Your eyes are barely staying open, but in a split second, a tickle hits you. 

        “Achoo!” 

        Aw crap.

        Sugawara cracks up lightly underneath you and squeezes your hip. “Bless you.”

         The kind gesture brings up all your past grievances of the day. He was just… so nice! Why?! That’s all he had to say? Nothing like “I knew you were gonna get sick.”

        His politeness made you huff and roll your eyes. Plopping your chin on his chest, you flick his forehead to get him to face you. His head turns to you, and his warm, chocolate-colored eyes are filled with an indescribable warmth that just makes you ughhhh.

        “Why?” you pipe up suddenly, dropping your hand to draw random patterns on his cheek. His face tinges pink at the feeling, but his brows furrow at your question. 

        “Why what?” You sigh. 

        “Why are you being so nice about this?” You poke his skin frustratedly, but not enough to hurt him. You could never. Not with those puppy dog eyes. “I didn’t listen to you, or your warnings, and now I might be sick. And all you’ve done is make me hot chocolate and cuddle me!” 

        Sugawara exhales a chuckle at your question and shakes his head amusedly. “Well, what did you think I was gonna do?”

        “I thought you were gonna say ‘I told you so’ and then do all this stuff.”

        “I’m not evil, YN.”

        “I know,” you facepalm, “but the fact that you haven’t said it is kinda creeping me out. It’s like one of those things that humans always do.” Your boyfriend nibbles at his lower lip thoughtfully. 

        “So, you really want me to say it?”

        “Yes please, I would feel much better if you did.” He snorts at this, stroking your silky strands slower now. 

        “All right,” he murmurs, nodding his head, “here it goes: I told you so.” 

        Accepting his words, you mumble a small thank you and allow the room to return to fall into silence. All is well, and the atmosphere grows peaceful once more as your cuddling resumes. Sugawara’s eyes close happily and he smiles into your hair, enjoying the fruity scent it emanates. You snuggle deeper into his solid chest, savoring the warmth he exudes and nuzzling your cheek against him lovingly before scoffing.

       “God, I knew you were gonna say that.”

Child’s Play (Yandere Garou x Reader) (NSFW)*Request*

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Getting you to fall in love with Garou was like child’s play. Now, he just needed to give you a reason to stay by his side. 

A/N: Anon 1, your English was great, and thank you so much! Anon 2, I can’t stop thinking about it either tbh😳. I decided to mix these two together because, seriously, who doesn’t love yandere Garou with a breeding kink? That’s a deadly combination. Anyways, sorry this took a little while to get out, but I hope y’all like it!

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, dirtyyyy talk, overstimulation, slight?cum play, dubious consent maybe?? (not really but he’s yandere so who knows)

Word count: 3143

        You were already asleep when Garou came home, snoring and drooling on his side of the bed. 

        Blood caked underneath his fingertips and dotted his face, so he didn’t bother waking you. Instead, he chose to watch from your bathroom sink as you slept, washing away the metallic substance with a soft smile. 

        When he deemed himself clean enough, he settled himself on the side of the bed and stroked your face. He cooed when you nestled further into his palm. 

        Garou had loved you for years, and only just recently had he gotten you. You were so innocent at the time, too, not even knowing that he was the Human Monster roaming the streets at night. A simple first date, flowers, and a kiss at midnight, and all that waiting had been worth it. 

        You finally wanted him too.

        The first time you had let him into your bed was when he truly never wanted to let you go. You were pure. His pure little Angel, only for him to corrupt. 

        “YN.” And tonight, he wanted to make that corruption permanent. 

        “Nuh-uh.” Your eyes didn’t even open when you hummed a response, instead clenching closed harder in hopes to preserve your sleep. 

        Garou shook his head and chuckled. Not tonight, Angel. “YN, wake up.” Tonight, he needed you.

        “I don’t wanna,” you whined, furrowing further into the covers. You let out a screech when they were pulled away from you, exposing you to the crisp night air all-too suddenly. 

        As if the shock to your system wasn’t enough, Garou slammed his lips on yours in a desperation you knew wouldn’t have him backing down anytime soon. Moaning in response, you struggled to keep up with his needy pace, not even bothering to fight his tongue for dominance. 

        The moment he pulled away, you sucked in air hungrily, opening your eyes just a sliver to find Garou’s in the dead of night. 

        “You awake yet?” Judging by the look in his eyes, you knew your response wouldn’t change his mind. This was happening right now whether you were ready or not. 

        Luckily for Garou, his Angel was all too willing. 

        “What the hell got you so excited?” You muffle a yawn before helping him out of his long sleeve. The second he was shirtless, you were zapped awake with a spark zipping down to your core. Garou shirtless was a sight to behold; after years of training to perfect his body, you couldn’t deny that it had paid off. Shoulders, biceps, abs, everything bulged, and everything was yours to touch. 

        Just like you were his.

        In a spectacular display of reciprocity, Garou ripped your sleeping shirt-- or rather, his-- in half, tossing the tattered cotton aside and leaving you only in your plain jane underwear you had worn to bed. Unsurprisingly, Garou still thought you were wearing too much. 

        “Don’t.” He tore your hands away from your chest, leaving you bare to the freezing air that had your skin tightening. 

        Many times over had you been naked for Garou, and each time he watched you with nothing but desire floating in his pupils. It was no different now, but you couldn’t help but feel overexposed, especially after just waking up. 

        “Garou, it’s- I’m cold.”

        He smirked in response, hands pushing you on your back and tugging apart your legs before he slid himself between them. “Then let me warm you up, Angel.”

        His pupils were blown wide, consuming every inch of gold left as he pressed his apparent erection against you. The friction was delicious, but not enough. You wanted more, more, more, so your hips jolted up to meet his, hands seeking out his waist to pull him closer. 

        “Fuck,” Garou hissed, head dropping to the sheets beside you as he ground into your clothed warmth. A hand slipped down your body, pushing away your panties to rub circles into your clit. 

        “Mmmm!” Your movements turned frantic as you rolled your pelvis against his fingers, searching for more pleasure, more release, more anything.

        Garou listened to your moans eagerly, loving the noises you gave off as he provided you with his touch. It almost distracted him from what he was really there for-- almost.

        “Nhhh,” you huffed when your dripping core was suddenly uncovered, walls clenching at the instant cold that brushed them. Garou wormed his way out of your grip to rid you and himself of the last layers dividing you, tearing the clothing away like it would burn him at any second. 

        When he returned, he didn’t situate himself in the same spot, instead settling on his knees between your legs. Nothing happened for a solid minute as you fell from your high while waiting for him to do something, anything. You lifted your head to ask, but the question slipped from your lips when you saw him. 

        Ogling. That was the only way to describe the way Garou stared at your glistening core. He looked like a man starved as his hands hovered over the area, wondering where to start first. 

        “Garo- oh SHIT!” Two fingers plunged into you the second you opened your mouth, the act followed by a thumb latching to your clit. 

        “Yeah, YN? Need something?” he teased with a crooked smile. You slammed your head back against the mattress the second your back arched, sparks flying behind your eyelids as you humped against his hand. 

        It was too much, his thumb on your bud rubbing too fast and hard that you searched blindly for the offender. In the darkness of the room, you managed to latch onto his wrist and keep him still while you panted, hips still involuntarily rolling at the pleasure. 

        “Really? That’s all it took, Angel?” Garou ripped his fingers away from your heat without warning, leaving you unbearably empty. “You better be able to handle more than that tonight. Or maybe it’s been too long, hmm?”

        Shifting on the bed, Garou rose onto his knees and wrapped your thighs around his waist. One hand grabbed at your breast, massaging the mound while the other positioned his length at your slit. A deadly grin encompassed his face as he leered down at you, rubbing against you almost patronizingly. 

        “Is that it, Angel? Has it been too long for you? Do you want me to take it slow?” Even though his voice was husky from holding back grunts, it was surprisingly steady as he tortured you, rubbing his tip up and down your heat to gather a collection of wetness you provided with ease. 

        “No-o,” you choked out, thighs trying to press him closer. Of course, you had no chance compared to his own strength, but it was worth a shot. “I need you bad, Garou.”

        “Really?” 

        “Yesss.”

        “Good, Angel,” he finally pressed his head past your folds, breaching the area that needed him most. Then he leaned down to lay a kiss ever-so sweetly on your forehead.

        “Because I’m gonna fill you up until you can’t take anymore.”

        His length bottomed out in you before you could even ask, leaving you to almost gag on your own spit in shock. 

        “FUCK!” you cried out, digging your nails into his toned back just to hold on. 

        Garou was rough, almost springing tears from your eyes at the bruising pace he had started with. Slapping sounds combined with the squelching of your juices overflowing filled the room, outshining your moans and his grunts. 

        Two fingers pinched your nipple without warning, drawing a squeal from your lips that Garou swallowed with a kiss. 

        “Shit, you're so tight,” he grits out, pulling away from your mouth to sit tall and pound into you from above. The hand just inches away from your aching bud moves away at the last second, instead slipping under your thigh to hold you in place. 

        “Please, please, please,” you mumble, palms pressing against his chest with all the force you could muster. 

        It’s too fast, it’s too much. He’s stuffed inside you completely, filling you up so tight you feel like you’ll split in half. Garou’s size always required some time to adjust, but he had been in too much of a hurry tonight. 

        “Nuh-uh, Angel. You wanted it. Now take it like a good girl.” 

        The next time you try to open your mouth again, Garou pulls out of you completely, leaving you moaning and clenching around nothing. 

        “You still want me to fill you up?” His brow raises expectantly, but when you only nod, a punishing hand slams against the flesh of your backside. “Use your words.”

        “Please Garou!” you whine, “Please just fill me up!” 

        He nods approvingly, but before you know it, you're being flipped onto your stomach. Large, rough hands reposition your hips up onto your knees before one reaches up to press your face into the sheets. The other presses on the small of your back, leaving you in an arch that spreads your cheeks perfectly. 

        “Oh I will, Angel. You’re gonna take every drop I give you like a good girl, right?”

        “Yes!”

        “Good.” A hand comes down on your behind as a reward for your compliance, reddening and burning the flesh just right. 

        The new angle Garou has as he slips inside has him pressed right up against that perfect spot inside you. Your slick makes it easy for him to re-enter you, his member nudging deeper and deeper past your fluttering walls until he’s finally buried to the hilt. The pace he begins with is much slower this time, torturously taking his time to push into your heat before leisurely pulling out again, repeating and repeating the same pattern that makes you want to scream.

        This was what you wanted ten minutes ago when he first entered you. Slow and careful, no pain to battle the pleasure. You were much too far past giving a shit whether it hurt now. He could rearrange your guts for all you cared-- you just wanted him to fucking move. 

        “Garou, please!”

        “Aww, but I’m having so much fun with this, Angel.” Ten fingernails dig into your hips almost hard enough to draw blood. “But I guess I could give it to you just this once.” 

        The thrust is so damn hard not only does your back immediately arch the other way, but the entire bed frame moves, slamming into the wall hard enough to almost crack it. 

        “OH FUCK!” you scream into the mattress, head growing foggy at the brutal pace Garou has now set with his hips.

        A hand presses into your back once more, leaving it to bend the other way once again to display yourself to Garou. Electricity lights up every nerve in your body, leading you to mumble mindlessly against the blankets as he drives into you from behind.

        Cruel, bruising, and yet so deliciously euphoric. Each time Garou rams into you from the new angle, the tip of his length bumps into your g-spot, sending your fingers flying and grasping for anything to hold as you sob in pleasure. Yet, unlike you, Garou knows exactly where to place his hands. 

        “Look at your greedy little pussy,” he snickers, burying a hand into your scalp and yanking your head back. The pull burns, but it tightens the coil in your chest that you know is going to explode any second. “Shit, every time I pull out, Angel, you suck me right back in.”

        “Hmmm-ngh.” Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you’re not even sure why you bother moving your hips to match his pace; he’s going too fast, pounding into you too hard that when you do push back against him, you know you’re only setting yourself up for some nasty bruises later.

        “Do you want me to fill you up? You wanna feel my cum, Angel?”

        “Mm fuck yes! Don’t stop, Garou!”

        “I don’t plan to.”

        You can feel your own slick gushing down your thighs and soaking into the sheets below. The wetness only grows worse when Garou digs a finger back into your clit, pressing against the bud harsh enough to have you scrambling away from the excruciating contact. 

        Circles, quick and powerful, shove your nub around brutally, pushing it back and forth enough to have tears spring from your eyes. When Garou pinches the sensitive bundle of nerves, it’s all over.

        “Garou, I’m cumming!”

        “Go ahead, Angel. I’m not stopping you.” 

        Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as the bubble finally pops. Your thighs quiver and your core clenches around his length each time it drives back into you, but your juices almost push him out completely. Like a waterfall, they overflow from your hole down your twitching, aching flesh, utterly ruining the blankets you ache to collapse against.

        Instead, Garou doesn’t stop for a second. While your entire body feels spent and worn, he continues to thrust back into you, an action done easily thanks to the complete slickness provided by your release. Not even his fingers have moved from your clit, still rubbing patterns until it feels like it’s on fire. 

        “Garou, stop, stop, it’s too much,” you whimper breathlessly, trying to crawl away only to be pulled right back. 

        “We’re not finished here, Angel. Not until I see this naughty little hole,” he drives back into it for emphasis, “overflowing with my cum. I’m gonna fill you up, baby.”

        After enough pleas, he finally stops the fingers torturing your bud, and they move instead to claim the skin of your backside. With two handfuls of your plump flesh, Garou bottoms out inside you for the last time, burying himself as far as he can in your heat before he releases.

        “Fuck, YN,” he groans, enough warmth spilling inside you that you can actually feel your walls stretch from the sheer amount. Your core, still quivering from overuse, milks his member of every drop. “You take everything I give you so, so well.”

        Garou slips out of you with both of you panting and huffing at the aftermath. Kisses pepper your back, but the second you try to lower yourself down, Garou props you right back up again. 

        “Oh, Angel, look what you did,” he tsks. You already know what happened; you can feel his hot release sliding down your shaking thighs just the same as your own. You flinch away from the feeling of Garou sliding his fingers along your skin, gathering the seed up on his fingers before pushing it back inside you. 

        “F-fuckkk,” you whimper, trying to wiggle away from the nails toying with your abused slit. The overstimulation of his fingers brushing over your sore bud once again has your chest tightening with a sob. The burn, the ache, the non-stop throbbing of your walls all felt so bad, and yet so good at the same time. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

        “YN, did you think we were finished here?”

        You don’t respond, barely even having enough strength to lift your head from where it’s pressed into the mattress. The bed squeaks as Garou repositions himself behind you. His hands, large and slick with both of your releases, slide back up your body all the way to your breasts. He presses a kiss to your spine before tugging you up with brute strength, using the positioning of his hands to press your back against his chest before massage the mounds’ peaks. 

        Garou’s teeth nibble on your earlobe before he whispers, “You were sorely mistaken, Angel.”

        He sinks his member back inside you, the new angle driving much deeper than earlier, almost too deep. It doesn’t matter that you’re worn and covered in sweat. Drool pools down your chin and your jaw drops just before your head falls back onto Garou’s shoulder, nodding back and forth as he rocks into you. 

        “Shit, I can feel my cum inside you, but your greedy pussy wants more, doesn’t it?”

        “Mmmmmhm!” That damned coil in your stomach tightens much easier, almost driving you over the edge again thanks to the short break Garou gave you. Suddenly, your body’s rearing to go again, the ache of sore muscles fading away into pure bliss as you wrap your arms above and behind you, right around Garou’s neck and digging into his hair. One tug, and he knows you’re ready for another round.

        “You wanna be filled with my cum? You wanna have my children, don’t you?”

        “Ah shit!” One thrust of his hips pulls his member out of you completely, having it bump directly into your clit before finding its way back deep into your fluttering hole.

        Tears stain your cheeks at the euphoria that comes with Garou sheathing his length inside you, tearing apart your walls each time with a feral frenzy you can only go to him for. 

        Your mind hums with white noise, creating a foggy haze over the rest of the night.

                                ~~~

        Garou can’t stop smiling. He knows he should have fallen asleep by now. Even the sun was beginning to rise just outside your window.

        But he just couldn’t help but stare. 

        The bed was a mess, and he would have to buy you a new headboard and sheets, but you looked so beautiful. 

        Deep down, he knew it was too early, but you were practically glowing with pregnancy already. 

        Last night, you had made him promises while fogged in pleasure, promises you hadn’t even noticed you were making. 

        “I’ll always be yours, Garou.”

        “Yes, please let me have your children.”

        “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

        The scratches raking down his back held proof that you were at least partially conscious of your actions, so he knew you meant what you said.

        A hand of his slides over your neck, past the marks littering your body to massage the soft skin of your stomach as you sleep. Surely it wasn’t just his imagination at this point. Your stomach actually looked swollen this morning, so full and ready to bear his children. 

        After last night, there was no way you weren’t pregnant. 

        Soon, he would become the father of your children. 

        Soon, you would have a reason to never leave him.

ATTENTION ALL GIRLS AND LADIES: if you walk from home, school, office or anywhere and you are alone and you come across a little boy crying holding a piece of paper with an address on it, DO NOT TAKE HIM THERE! take him straight to the police station for this is the new 'gang' way of rape. The incident is getting worse. Warn your families. Reblog this so this message can get accross to everyone.

not rlly a request but i was wondering if u planned on continuing the bokuto/akaashi soulmate supernatural au? i just discovered it and it is a masterpiece if i do say so myself

I am, and I’m super excited to continue it if I do say so myself☺️ new chapter is coming out on Christmas bc uh... kinda left y’all on a cliffhanger didnt i... hehe oops

He Has a Nightmare About You (Stranger Things Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: started watching this show for momma Steve, stayed for the other, also hot characters. Don’t judge me if a vecna version of this comes out soon👀 Enjoy!

Billy Hargrove:

He dreams of you often, but never quite like this.

You’re in his arms; his lips are on yours, and your hands are in his hair. 

When he pulls away, it’s to brush a strand back from your face, pushing it behind your ear while gazing into your eyes. A smile is on his face, inherently small and lopsided, but genuine. 

It’s one of those times where he can’t believe how happy you make him, how much he loves you. You turn him into a teenage boy with a puppy crush all over again, but as long as no one else is around, he doesn't mind that one bit. Vulnerability did not come easy to him, but with you, he’d tear down every wall he’d ever put up just to get closer to you. Just to hold onto you that much longer. 

“Billy…” you hum, your hands coming up to cover his own along your cheeks. He feels infinitely warmer, more relaxed at your touch, and he leans that much closer to you. 

“YN…” Billy drawls back teasingly, blue eyes soft and expectant on yours. Your breath ghosts over his lips, and fuck if he didn’t hate that you made a shiver roll down his spine. 

“I hate you.”

His smile falters. “What?”

You tug his hands off your face, leading them to drop to his sides before stepping back. You shake your head. “I hate you, Billy.” 

Billy’s body grows cold. His lips part as he searches for words, eyes raking over your face for any hint of jest. “This isn’t funny, YN.” He lets out a breathless laugh, but it’s dull and fake and trying to draw some sort of usual response from you. 

“It’s not supposed to be. I’m serious, Billy.” 

His nostrils flare, and he wants to be angry. He wants to grab you and pull you back into his chest and make you wish you’d never said those words, make you wish you never hurt him, make you promise that you’d never hurt him like this again. 

You said that once, that you’d never hurt him like he has been before. You promised.

He bites into his bottom lip, willing a level of restraint, or rather, indifference. 

She promised.

Time moved slowly the second you pulled away from him. Carefully, your arms came up to cross over one another at your chest. Your eyes hardened, not angry or frustrated, but certainly more serious and intentional from when you had said his name earlier. 

He’d never seen you so cold—not at him. 

“What changed?” The words slipped from his lips, but the second they did, he didn’t bother fighting to take them back. He felt trapped in his own skin, unable to escape the anger, the hatred, the i that coursed through veins. “Why now, I mean, after-” he cut himself off with a scoff, bitterly licking his lips, “-after fucking everything we’ve been through together, you just, what, hate me?”

He hated it, this. He hated you, and he’d never done that before. Even the thought of his betrayal being directed toward you made him feel sick. She promised.

Billy looked away, wrenching a hand through his hair and not bearing to stare at you when he spoke. “You- God,” the corners of his eyes pricked, “you said you loved me. What happened to that?” He glanced at you, hating, hating, hating that you were making him feel this fucking way. Throat tightening, he barked out, “What fucking happened to that?!”

“I don’t love you, Billy,” you muttered, seemingly unaffected by his display of emotions. “I could never.”

And you saw it. He knew you saw it. He knew you saw it because he wiped it away, and your eyes had followed his hand as he had. 

He was crying. Goddammit, he was so fucking weak. 

Despite it all, despite every single horrible moment in his life, he never knew the feeling of true despair until you were taking your love for him back and saying it wasn’t real. 

“Billy, come on.” Your tone was persuasive, placating like you were trying to reason with him. You were talking to him as though you were telling a child that Santa or the Easter Bunny wasn’t real, that they never were, and they never will be. 

You used that same soothing, calming tone the first time you tried to convince Billy that you did love him. He remembered your exact words. “I love you, and no matter how much you fight me on it, I won’t let you take that away from me.” You had been caressing a fresh bruise on his cheek, and the kiss you had left there had overpowered the pain of his father’s wound. 

“Don’t,” Billy mumbled. “Stop.”

Don’t corrupt that voice, he pleaded, though the words wouldn’t escape him. Don’t take that away from me.

“Billy.” You drew his attention back to you, and, despite the stiffness of his cheeks and lips, he sneered at your pitying gaze. “Be realistic. How could I have ever loved you?”

“Stop.”

“Your father hates you, Billy.” Your voice raised, eyes burning with a new fire into his own watery ones. “Your own mother left you. Do you know what that makes you?”

“Stop.”

“Do you know what that makes you, Billy?” you demanded, teeth bared. “It makes you unloveable.”

“STOP!”

“Billy?”

“STOP!” Billy flinched awake, sweat dripping down his forehead and spine, shivering at the breeze of his bedroom. Chest heaving, his eyes were wild and unfocused as they darted about the dark room, few objects such as his dresser and desk only visible due to the moonlight filtering through his window. 

Sighing heavily, Billy dragged his hands down his face, groaning softly and massaging his temples. 

“What a fuckin’ nightmare,” he grumbled before peering over at you. 

You, still curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully. Your hair splayed out along one of his pillows, one of his shirts wrinkled and twisted around your form, your leg still crooked over his hips. 

You were still his. Thank fuck, you were still his. 

“YN,” he shook you awake, one hand on your shoulder.

You hummed in your sleep, lips twitching downwards at the disturbance. “Wha…?” you grumbled, not bothering to open your eyes. 

“Babe, c’mon, let’s go for a drive. Wake up.”

“Nooooo,” you moaned. 

“Yessss.”

“Can I sleep on the drive?”

He raised a brow. “You think you’ll be able to?”

One eye of yours peeked open, focusing on him instantly. You pouted.

Billy’s chest tightened, but for the first time since the dream, he felt like he could breathe. Thank God. He was not going to sleep another wink tonight. Not in that damned house, at least. 

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. Stop giving me your little puppy dog eyes.” You rolled off the bed, falling onto the floor with a thud before rising to your feet and wrapping a blanket around your head and shoulders like a cloak. “But there are ground rules, mister.” You held up your hand to him. “One, you can’t drive over 30 miles an hour. Two, no loud music- or, wait, no music at all-”

“What?”

“-Three, only for the next hour or so, then we’re going back to my place to go to sleep.” You gave him a pointed look. “Deal?”

His lips sloped into his usual smirk as he rose to his feet, arms instantly moving to wrap around your waist and tug you into his chest, close and tight. 

“Deal.”

You. You, you, you. God, he never wanted to think about that nightmare again, and if he never again heard the words “I hate you” fall from your lips, even as a joke, it would be too soon. You were still his, and he knew, he fucking knew, dammit, that you loved him.

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“Don’t ask.”

Steve Harrington: 

“Steve,” Robin muttered softly. Her gaze was downcast, and she had one arm around the front of his chest and shoulders, trying to hold him back and redirect him. “Don’t look.”

“What’s going on?” He tried to peer around the others, all of whom either had their backs turned or looked at him mournfully. “Hey, what’s-” he tried to push past Robin, but Dustin rushed forward to help stop him, “-what the hell is going on?! Guys?!”

They all stood in a half circle around… something, he couldn’t see what. The kids and Nancy and Goddamn everyone except-

“YN,” Steve breathed out in realization. His heart was stuck in his throat, and the pounding of his own blood drowned out the quiet whispers of the others. “No. No, no, no, no—NO!” He shoved past the pairs of arms, pushing past a tearful Max and a sobbing Eleven, only to feel his whole body flinch back at the sight. 

“YN,” he whispered again, horrified at the sight, not wanting to believe it. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh God.”

Blood was- was everywhere. Steve’s knees wobbled and gave out as he collapsed into the forest floor beside you. His hands hovered over your body, feeling the heat rolling off it in waves from the gushes of hot, crimson liquid seeping from obscured wounds. A pool of it, he realized, dampened the knees of his jeans, cooling against his skin. 

“Steve,” you whimpered, “I’m scared. It hurts so bad.” You trembled, hands curled into tight fists as you clenched your eyes shut, tears trailing down into your sweat-soaked hair. 

“This isn’t right—you can’t… fuck.” He tore a hand through his brown tufts before springing into action, scraping himself along the damp soil to ease his legs underneath your back, your body lying perpendicular to his so he could lean your head in his lap. 

“YN, I…” he trailed off, gasping for air as his wavering hands encompassed your face. “I don’t know what to do,” he choked out helplessly. 

And you reached up to grasp his wrist, eyes so innocent and terrified. “Steve, please, I don’t wanna die.”

“This was never supposed to happen,” he rambled indignantly. “No no no because I was supposed to protect you because I always protect you, and now this is going so, so fucking wrong.” He felt the oncoming headache that arrived with fresh tears, the snot dribbling down his nose and onto his upper lip, the cold sweat that covered his body head to toe. He wanted to throw up and sob and hold you close and tight and never, never fucking let you go. 

His own heart, as you lay in his arms, was being ripped from his chest. No help was coming, there was no time to heal or press on what was already far too damaged to halt. You were… you were…

“Please,” you wailed, your screams echoing into the forest. He could hear the others shuffling around behind him, their own sobs fading into the mix. “No, please, I don’t wanna die! Steve, please!”

Steve could feel your cheeks getting colder, and he watched as your hands slowly began to unfurl at your sides. “YN, I’m so sorry. Don’t leave me, I can’t-” his own whimper cut himself off. 

“Steve,” you gasped for breath, your voice so small, so weak. “You said you would protect me.” The furrow in your brow smoothed itself out, and your chest began to slow its heaving movements. 

“I know, I know,” he weeped. “I love you so much, please don’t leave me.”

“You love me?” you whispered back. Your eyes, that had been locked on his for so long, filled with fear and anguish, shifted away, losing themselves in the black sky above. A small smile broke out on your bloodstained lips. 

“YN?” Steve questioned fearfully, sniveling as he peeled the hair away from your face. 

“I never knew that you loved me, Steve.” A single tear broke loose from your eyelids as you let them droop closed. “I love…” You mouthed the word you before you sighed, your body finally losing all of its tension, its stress—its fear.

Steve let out a quivering breath, his hands cupping your cheeks swiftly. “YN? YN?!”

“Steve.” A hand pressed on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off viciously. 

“YN!” He peeled back your eyelids, blanching at the blank look in your irises. “No, no, come on, I was supposed to protect you!” he cried out hysterically. 

Steve’s body curled over yours like he was collapsing in on himself, mouth mumbling pleas as he slid a hand over your chest, above your heart. 

Nothing.

“Steve!” The hand on his shoulder was more insistent, shaking him back and forth violently. 

No. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not now, not yet.

“Steve, wake up!”

“What?” Steve’s eyes flew open, and his head straightened up from the back of the couch, causing Dustin to yelp and jump back in shock. 

“Jesus, what the fuck?!” the younger boy screeched, leaving Steve wincing and pressing two hands to his ears. 

“Goddamn,” he hissed, “You really need to hit puberty faster; these voice cracks of yours are gonna leave me deaf one of these days.”

“Well it’s not my fault you sleep like a bear in hibernation.”

“Ew, what? That's disgusting, Dustin,” Steve grimaced. 

Dustin facepalmed. “You’re thinking of ‘heat,’ genius, I said ‘hibernation.’”

Steve faltered, nodding absentmindedly. “Oh.”

“Yeah, anyways,” he rolled his eyes, “you better head home.”

“Movie night over already?” Steve dug his palms against his eyes, trying harshly to wipe away the image of—er, that happening to you—from his mind. 

“Uh, yeah,” Dustin deadpanned, “Princess Leia changed out of her bikini about two hours ago, but I’m glad you were paying attention.”

“Well, look, if it makes you feel any better, the dream I just had was terrible,” Steve groaned, rising up from the coach and grabbing his jacket off the coffee table. 

“Yeah, I heard. Something about ‘oh no’ and ‘don’t leave’ and ‘YN, YN, YN.’” The tween rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you ask me, I’d say just ask her out already, ‘cause your pining from a distance is getting pretty depressing.”

Steve stared at him with pursed lips and blank, dead eyes. 

Then he fondled for his car keys in his jacket pocket and huffed. “Yep, I’m gonna go. See ya around, Henderson.”

“I’m serious, Steve!” Dustin called after him. “It’s getting creepy! Why don’t you just tell her that you’re absolutely whipped for-”

Steve slammed the door of his house, trekking towards his car while grumbling under his breath. “Frickin’ Dustin. I’m not whipped. Nobody,” he slid into the seat of his car, staring into the rearview mirror and adjusting it, “nobody has ever had me…” he paused, staring at his bloodshot eyes, at his tear-stained cheeks. 

“Fuck.” He glanced back at Dustin’s house, its windows still open and flashing with the action of a movie.

Goddammit, Henderson. 

Steve put his car into drive, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street, but when he slowed at his usual turn, he slammed the brakes on the car instead and stared at the sign of the intersecting street. 

You lived almost two blocks from there—Steve never realized that. 

He could—no, no he couldn’t. It was the middle of the night, around eleven o’clock according to his dash, so why in the world did he have the right to wake you up for news like that?

It can wait. His feelings can wait.

He said those exact words ten more times as he drove to your house, clumsily throwing it into park alongside the sidewalk in front of your home. He knew which window corresponded with your room, as aside from being the group babysitter and helicopter mother, he was also the chauffeur. 

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself as he stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut. “This is so dumb; this is a terrible idea. One of the worst, actually.” 

But he picked up the pebble out of your garden and chucked it at your window anyway, pure adrenaline launching the rock at a high speed and making perfect contact with the middle of the glass.

It also left a sizable crack.

“Oh shit,” Steve hissed under his breath, hands flying up to his hair as he saw your light switch on. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The window slid up, and before he knew it, your glare found his form. Your head was leaned outside of the window, hands braced against the sill as you whisper-shouted at him. “Seriously, Steve?! What the fuck?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he jogged closer to your house, questioning scaling the side to climb into your window, but then he noticed your tangled, matted hair and nightshirt. “Yeah, that’s my bad, I, uh,” he chuckled nervously, “sometimes I forget my own strength.” He shrugged lamely. 

You gestured angrily at the window. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this?”

This is going so wrong. Dammit, he knew this wouldn’t go well. 

“YN,” he called out to you, trying to get your attention as you investigated the crack with a sigh. 

“What, genius? Got another grand idea?” you snarked. “Why don’t you go break the locks off my front door too while you're at it-”

“YN, I’m in love with you.”

You choked on your next words, eyes flying open. “What?!”

“I’m just- I’m in love with you, and I really wanted you to know that.”

While he shifts back and forth on his feet, your mouth bobs open and closed. 

“Are you serious?” you finally land on. 

“Don’t call me Shirley?” he offered back lamely, and you dragged a hand down the front of your face. 

Nonetheless, you wore a wide, abashed grin. “You’re a goddamn fool, Steve Harrington.”

Steve shook his head and smiled at that. “Only for you, babe.”

“Now go home and go to sleep so I can kiss you tomorrow, dumbass,” you waved him away. 

A stupid, lovesick smirk took over his face, painting him the absolute dope you always pegged him as. “Sounds like a plan, doll.” He spun around, swallowing a large gulp of air and wondering if you could see the way his hands shook as he unlocked his car. 

“Steve! Wait!”

 He turned back, almost too eager, to see a large blush blooming on your face in the light of your room. “I love you too.”

What a horrible, terrible, shitty-ass, perfectly timed nightmare.