Bad Sleeping Habits (Nishinoya X Reader)

Ignorance is Bliss (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Confessing to you has turned into quite the hassle for Bakugou, as you seem to be totally oblivious to every single one of his ideas. From notes to jewelry, you don’t notice a single thing he tries to anonymously give you. Surely you weren’t that ignorant, were you?

A/N: I desire sleep. I just wanna sleep…. Anyways, here’s another Bakugou oneshot, because it’s just so easy to get ideas for him. This time, poor explody boy’s just confused. Again, thank you guys so much for the likes and follows, and please enjoy!

Word count: 3349

        To Bakugou you were… tolerable. However, in his case, those were pretty high marks. And it was because you were so tolerable that he found himself okay with the idea of hanging out with you more. He was fine with seeing you around after school, or maybe at the movies. Maybe even in his dorm room- okay, he was crushing on you. Hard. Hard enough that he found himself wanting to ask you out. 

        At first, Bakugou tried to ask for the annoying redhead’s help, but that didn’t work out so well. 

        “What about getting her candy and a teddy bear, and then telling her how you feel? Girls like that stuff,” Kirishima had innocently suggested.

        “What is she, five? Fuck no.” He shut down his sturdy friend instantly. After that, the blond had told his companion that he would figure it out on his own. If on his own meant he used Google. To be fair, it was the only other resource Bakugou could depend on at this point. So he searched up what girls like, and found a whole bunch of mumbo jumbo he didn’t really have the money for, but they were worth trying out anyway. The first thing on the list? Flowers. All right, he could afford that. 

        The next day, the blond hero-in-training barged into class much earlier than he ever had, even earlier than the loud-mouthed class captain, and plopped down a hefty bouquet of roses along with a small note attached saying who it was from in the middle of your desk. And then he waited. 

        When you finally showed up, Bakugou was practically snoring in his chair, reclined back with a small dribble of drool crawling down his chin. You didn’t greet him, but you never did, so that wasn’t unexpected. What was, however, was your reaction to his gift.

        “Who the fuck left their garden on my seat?” you exclaimed with disdain. The volume was loud enough to jumpstart the blond from his slumber. He furrowed his brows at your question, now wide awake. Here’s the thing, Bakugou knew you were a cusser. It was one of the few things he liked about you. But the fact that you had cussed at his gift... well, that kind of ticked him off. 

        “What’s wrong with them?” he demanded, but before you could respond, a loud sneeze echoed around the room. 

        Sniffing harshly, you untucked your face from your elbow and inspected the damage before replying, “I’m allergic to their pollen, dumbass.” Pinching the bouquet’s stems between your thumb and forefinger, you held it as far away from your face as you could while you carried it over to the trash. Bakugou’s voice stuck in his throat before he could try to stop you, so he could only watch in horror as you hovered the gift over the plastic bin. Watching his personal note work free from between two stems, the blond clenched his jaw and seethed silently when it gracefully floated to the bottom of the empty bin. 

        “Aww, YN, are you really throwing those roses away? They’re so pretty!” Uraraka spoke up, just then stepping into the classroom. She pouted sadly at the sight. 

        “Well, do you want them?” you offered, extending Bakugou’s gift towards her. 

        “Umm sure. I guess I’ll take them if you really don’t want them!” she agreed, accepting the bouquet and taking a whiff before thanking you. As you told her it was no problem, Bakugou curled his hands into fists and sneered. 

        “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

                                ###

        That night, the blond student consulted his old friend Google once more for advice, leering over his glowing laptop and scouring for anything that might help him woo you. “A poem, huh? Ugh, do girls really like that sappy shit?” You best believe he copied one of Shakespeare’s most popular pieces and dropped it off at your door signed with his name the next morning. Plagiarism be damned, he really wanted to go out with you. After watching the love note flutter to the ground face-down, he quickly knocked on your door and rushed away, peeking out from the wall of another hallway while he waited for you to answer. 

        “Okay, who the fu- what the hell?” you wondered aloud, whipping open your door and angrily peering out only to see no one. Glancing around, your eyes finally spotted the white paper on the floor. Lifting it up, you observed the backside of the note with a scrunched nose. Shrugging dismissively, you crumble up the slip of paper with both hands while grumbling under your breath, “Fucking litterers,” before throwing the ball into the trash can outside your door. After you returned inside your room, Bakugou came out from behind the wall and stared at where you had stood, totally and utterly dumbfounded. Were you really that stupid? Surely you were kidding with him, right? You didn’t seriously just throw away his love letter after only looking at the blank side, did you?

        Shaking his head, Bakugou abruptly remembered that yes, you have done dumber things. Just thinking off the top of his head, he could remember many incidents where you completely amazed him with your own idiocy before he ever thought much of your presence. For example, one time you had been so tired that you had run into the wall directly next to Class 1-A’s entrance, then proceeded to yell at it, “Move dumbass!” So yes, yes he could believe you had just thrown away his confession note obliviously. Bakugou shook his head at the memory before rubbing his temples, walking back to his own room to plot yet another tactic of confession.

                                ###

        Google was a godsend, and had provided him with the perfect gift. Jewelry! How had he completely managed to forget how much women love jewelry. Over the weekend, Bakugou had managed to convince Kirishima to buy him a necklace for you, one that was “your style.” In the end, his redheaded classmate arrived at school on Monday with a silver heart encasing a crimson stone on a metal chain. After silently thanking Kirishima with a small nod, Bakugou couldn’t help the small curl of the corners of his mouth while he lifted the locket up to glimmer in the fluorescent light of the classroom. His hard-headed companion, however, seemed a little disappointed in the gift. 

        “Look dude, I really don’t think YN is going to like that. She’s not really that kind of girl,” Kirishima insisted, a little concerned at how his friend would react if yet another confession plan failed. 

        “Trust me, this time I’ll get her. Plus, you know how all women love jewelry, it’s foolproof,” Bakugou assured his friend with a smirk eyes still set on the necklace. Patting Kirishima on the chest, the blond gestured for him to observe as he set down the necklace on your desk and made his way back, both preparing to watch your reaction. The redhead pursed his lips and bit them anxiously while his friend squinted with impatience. Finally, you entered the classroom and Bakugou had to hold back a fist pump. After all, he wasn’t victorious yet. Sitting down in your seat, you didn’t appear to notice the necklace, and the blond flinched harshly when you ignorantly dropped your bag on top of it. An apologetic hand settled onto his shoulder, and Bakugou was too stunned at your utter obliviousness to things right in front of you to shrug off Kirishima. 

                                ###

        He had watched you all day in class, and nothing. You hadn’t acknowledged the necklace at all, and you didn’t even notice when your notebook had accidentally pushed it off the table. The future hero’s eye twitched and his hands began to tingle in irritation. You had to be screwing with him! How ignorant could you be? 

        It wasn’t until after school when he discovered you had, in fact, noticed the necklace, but for all the wrong reasons. Miserably dragging his feet to his room, he had passed the common area, only to hear your heart-stopping voice. Halting in his tracks, he backtracked until he could see you and the pink freak standing in the middle of the room and conversing. Eavesdropping slightly, he leaned his head in to hear better. 

        “Oh YN, that’s so cute,” Ashido gushed, holding her hands to her cheeks as she observed the necklace you held in between the two of you. “Who gave it to yo-”

        “How much do you think it could sell for?” you asked distractedly, scrutinizing the gem in the center of the silver heart before peering back up at your classmate curiously. 

        “Well, i-isn’t it a gift?” she replied, her usually bright voice dropping with a lilt of uncertainty.

        “I don’t know,” you shrugged casually, “I just found it lying around.” Umm, no. Bakugou vividly remembered setting it down quite obviously in the center of your desk. Maybe you needed a nice, new pair of glasses. That could be his next gift. 

        Mina shifted excitedly from foot-to-foot with her hands folded in front of her heart before enthusiastically suggesting, “Well, why don’t you just keep it? It is really pretty!” 

        Pursing your lips, you looked at her with an “are you serious” face before promptly responding, “Because it’s not mine, duh. That would be rude, Mina.” 

        Distractedly peering back down at the necklace, you made your way to the exit of the common area with Ashido bewilderedly shouting after you, “And selling it isn’t?!” 

                                ###

        In a last ditch effort to grab your attention and confess, Bakugou made his way to the mall and searched for a clothing store you seemed to absolutely adore. On many of your clothes resided the word “Pink,” and the blonde student could distantly remember his mom always dragging through malls and passing by a shop with the exact same name. 

        Now, as he stood in front of the bright, highly feminine store, he couldn’t help but sneer disgustedly at its neighbor. Shuddering (and blushing) at the sight, he stepped into the original store, only to bare his teeth at the sight of the one register being in the connecting room. In that store. Bakugou groaned aloud, attracting attention from most of the customers and workers in the area. Snarling back at them, the blond continued to his original goal, wandering into the other, darker half of the shop. 

        “Why the hell are they the same store?!” he muttered to himself with a grossed out expression, all while keeping his head low to avoid staring at the rather lewd clothing around him. Although, it seemed unavoidable at a certain point when Bakugou accidentally ran into a table, looking up to find his path once more only to make eye contact with string. That’s it, he swore that’s all it was. Just… string. What the hell is that gonna do?! His face burned at the sight and he clenched his jaw tightly, searching for the checkout area so he could finish his business and get the hell out of this place. 

        At last, he reached his destination and slammed his palms down on the counter, causing the cashier to flinch with frightened eyes. “Gimme a Pink gift card. Twenty-five dollars,” Bakugou demanded harshly. The girl in front of him instantly lost her patience at the order, and she had to force on a fake smile before replying. 

        “Sorry sir,” her voice was snide. “We only have Victoria’s Secret gift cards here.”

        “Whatever, just give me a damn card,” he barked, shoving the cash into her hands. The teen boy was growing seriously uncomfortable in this place, and he despised that feeling. 

        “Here you go. Have a nice day!” the worker sarcastically chimed, beaming at how anxious he appeared. His lip curled at her tone and he grumbled under his breath as he navigated his way out of the vulgar store. 

                                ###

        Bakugou’s hands trembled as he set down the card on your desk. He was still shaken up over that stupid store, but whenever Kirishima asked him about it, he just shook off the question, mumbling about how he didn’t want to talk about it. Crashing down into his desk, Bakugou miserably shoved his chin into his hands, resting over the surface and waiting impatiently for you to see his gift. He wasn’t stupid this round. In a brightly colored, anonymous card, the blond had written about how he liked you and how he wanted you to buy yourself something nice. It was a genius plan, as now he didn’t have to worry about buying you something. Oh man, if only he had put his damn name on it. 

        When you walked into the chattering classroom and sat in your seat, you inspected the card thoroughly, even poking at it with your goddamn pencil. What the hell? Either way, when you finally opened it like a big girl and watched the special gift card drop unceremoniously onto your desk, you didn’t make a sound. You just… stared. You were totally silent, breathing evenly with a blank face as you inspected the card like it had the secrets to the world. Evidently, you didn’t want to know those secrets, as you abruptly pushed up out of your chair, ever-so gracefully banging it into the desk behind you. Your eyes were dark and unreadable, and you hair acted as a curtain around your face while your fingers braced against the desktop. It was like you were burning the hot pink words printed on the gift card into your brain. 

        Finally, you looked up and stared ahead at the teacher’s board while your face slowly grew enraged. “Mineta, you little creep! I’m gonna kick your ass!” Bakugou jumped at your outburst, observing shakily as you swiftly turned your head to the pint-sized, purple student in the corner of the room. As a result, the little squirt screamed in terror and ran away. You chased him out of the room, and Bakugou couldn’t help but bite his lip tentatively while staring blankly at where you had stood. 

        Kirishima, also shaken by your sudden outburst, made his way over to his best friend’s desk, glancing at yours along the way. Spotting what had made you so upset, the redhead groaned and dragged a hand down his face while shaking his head. “Seriously, Bakugou, Victoria’s Secret? That was your genius idea?” The blond nodded in a daze. “If she ever finds out,” he continued, “she’s going to murder you.” Bakugou could only nod in agreement, still shocked at your reaction to the gift. Was it really that perverted? 

        Helplessly, he stares up at his friend with desperation dripping from his face, whispering a small, “Help me.” Kirishima beams brightly at the admission, placing his hands on his hips.

        “Finally willing to listen, huh?”

        “Don’t push it.” Bakugou massages his temples, exhausted from the week's events. 

        “Don’t you worry, buddy. I have the perfect idea.”

                                ###

        There was still a small, minuscule chance that Kirishima was wrong, right? Bakugou could care less at this point, he just wanted to confess to you. You were strong, stubborn, loud-mouthed, arrogant, and infuriating. He loved it. Ever since you had insulted him back and then proceeded to kick his ass almost beat him up during a training session, he had fallen for you. Which was why he had gone to such lengths for you. He wanted to get you the perfect gift to return all the fuzzy, totally lame feelings you had given him. And apparently, according to Kirishima, a little bunny stuffed animal and a box of chocolates were the best way to begin to do that. The redhead had claimed that gifts wouldn’t make any girl, especially you, fall in love with him instantaneously. Bakugou was doubtful, but according to how all his previous plans had crashed and burned into one spectacularly extravagant trainwreck, he had no room to judge. 

        While letting those thoughts run rampant in his head, the normally tumultuous hero-in-training stood silently in front of your door, awkwardly waiting for you to answer after he had painfully knocked on it with his forehead. What was he supposed to do; his hands were chock full of stuffed rabbit and chocolates. Breathing a sigh of relief when the door opened to reveal you with a soft, sly smile, he shoved his new gifts towards you. 

        “I like you,” he mumbled apprehensively, looking to the side to prevent you from seeing his flushed cheeks. You could barely hear him, but you knew. Oh yeah, you definitely knew. 

        “Took you long enough,” you teased, hugging the presents to your chest. “No offense, but your other gifts were shit. Oh, aside from this.” Fiddling with the heart necklace and giving him a lopsided grin, you tossed the bunny and the chocolates onto your bed behind you before grabbing him by his wrists and tugging him inside, him stumbling in after you with a dropped jaw. “Speaking of, if you really want me to buy new lingerie, I’ll bring you along next time.” You laughed cheekily as Bakugou’s cheeks grew a darker shade of red, and he muttered at you to shut up. 

                                ###

        Bakugou’s arm tightened around your shoulder as you pushed open the door to the classroom, giggling at his deadpan joke while the corner of his mouth quirked up at your bright smile. Directing you to your seat, he released your shoulder and groaned while dropping your bag to the ground. “Ugh, why is that thing so heavy?” he whined, glaring at the weighted object. Laughing at his pain, the pair of you suddenly tense up at a smaller presence behind you. Instantaneously, the both of you grow pissed, you whipping around and glaring while Bakugou wraps his arm around your waist possessively. 

        “What do you want, pipsqueak?” your boyfriend hissed at Mineta. 

        The shorter male’s eyes widened and he took a barely noticeable step back before standing tall once more and proudly announcing, “YN, I was hoping you’ve come to your senses today and realized that you have wrongfully blamed me for a despicable, unthinkable action!” Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong, but that didn’t mean you wanted to admit defeat. Especially to him. Sneering and opening your mouth to respond, the little grape lifted a finger to pause you and continued, “I will, however, forgive you in exchange for a generous kiss.” Ignoring your disgusted look, Mineta closed his eyes and puckered his lips, only to open them once more at the sound of explosions. 

        Bakugou’s grip on your side was practically bruising, while his other hand was raised with an eruptive display for all to see. Snarling ferociously, the blond’s voice was gruff and threatening as he lowly warned, “You better get a head start while you can. I’m gonna beat your ass, you little creep.” Bakugou’s scarlet eyes were glaring nastily at Mineta, and if looks could kill,... well, you know the rest. The purple-haired pervert stumbled back a couple steps before he whimpered and spun around on his toes, hightailing it out of the classroom. Bakugou smiled at the sight and turned to brush his lips against yours. You placed your hand on the back of his neck to hold him there for a couple seconds, gently nibbling on his lower lip before finally pulling away. The tingles his soft kiss left behind compelled you to keep your eyes and revel in the waves of pleasure they evoked. You were content, at least until a loud bang ripped your eyes open. It was the door to the classroom swinging open as you saw the blond hair of your boyfriend disappear into the hallway. 

        “You purple son of a bitch!”

        Wincing at the roar, you hesitantly sat at your desk, sucking air through your teeth and fiddling with the silver locket around your neck.  “Oopsies.”

MY FRIENDS AND I WERE DISCUSSING AND THEY WERE LIKE "You know you'd be the perfect darling" and I was like "Excuse me?" And the reason was "Well... If they treated you right you wouldn't care about anything else... As long as your Yandere wouldn't hurt you or the people you actually care about I doubt that you'd actually try to escape" and I was like 👁️👄👁️ but I couldn't even say no cause they were right 😂 As long as I'm "Okay" I wouldn't even care that I'm kidnapped by a psycho 🤷🏻‍♀️

Agakdhjsjdks dudeeeee🤦‍♀️

Bruh I just imagine like you sitting on a couch eating Cheetos while your yandere is downstairs fucking murdering someone.

Guy dying: SOMEONE HELP ME

this anon: y’all hear sumn

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

All requests are open, go nuts!

Maid for Him (Oikawa x Reader/Slight Yandere)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You were his maid. His lover. His life. He simply couldn’t let that sleazy visiting prince anywhere near you.

A/N: Hey guys. I know it’s been a while, and I’m really sorry. Life has really been kicking my ass lately, and I don’t want to let y’all down, but I just need a little more time between posts. Again, I am really sorry I haven’t been as active. But hey, thank you so much for 700 followers while I was gone! I hope you enjoy this Yandere Oikawa imagine to celebrate!

Word count: 1764

        Everything seemed dustier than usual. The sun shone brightly through the stained glass windows, and fell upon the grimy, priceless tables. Artifacts from all over the world, vases, paintings, weaponry and more, were all covered in the fine particles. 

        Oikawa brushed a finger over an especially neglected sword and smirked at the gray filth left on the tip. 

        Oh, my little YN, are you neglecting your duties again? I suppose I’ll just have to punish you.

        A snicker left him at the thought, and he continued down the halls to find you, dressed in that cute little maid uniform you wore. He was clothed just the way you liked him; in his riding gear and fresh from the showers, preparing to go to the stables. But he just had to see you first. 

        “Where are you, love?” he muttered under his breath, brown orbs darting back and forth through the velvet-lined corridors. An occasional ray of warmth brushed over his form with every confident stride past the windows. It was silent for ages, and the residual scent of this morning’s breakfast still hung in the air. Sweet-berry covered pancakes combined with the freshest maple syrup accepted as a gift from the visiting kingdom. 

        It had been almost as delicious as you. 

        Oikawa tsked at every empty room he passed, a sneer growing larger and larger on his face. All of them were filled with at least one servant, but not a single one was you. 

        “Where the hell are you?” he seethed through gritted teeth. 

        His bedroom. Nothing. 

        The dining room. Nothing. 

        The throne room. Nothing. 

        Even the library was vacant of your presence. A nauseating pressure welled up in his throat. You didn’t… leave, did you? 

        No. You would never. You loved him too much. 

        Just as he loved you. 

        So where the hell were you?

        After rubbing his temples, Oikawa shook his head to clear his thoughts. Surely you were somewhere nearby. 

        “Please don’t.”

        Like right there.

        Your nervous tone echoed from within a guest room of the castle. He rushed toward the familiarity like a cat after a mouse, leather boots stomping against the floor rapidly. 

        “Oh come on, sweetheart. I saw the way you were looking at me this morning.” A slimy, greasy, disgusting voice responded to you. The prince from the neighboring kingdom. Oikawa charged faster to the door, until he was practically sprinting throughout the castle. Arriving at the cracked door, he paused only to peer inside at the sight. 

        You, in that horribly revealing uniform, with a feather duster in your hand. Your face was flushed, your eyes were wide, and your body seemed to be trembling with fear. Every few seconds, you shifted your weight from side to side, gripping the bottom of your short, black and white skirt with white knuckles. 

        The good-for-nothing bastard who towered over you sniggered at your nervousness. He stood in the center of the room, his arms itching to reach out for you as he slowly backed you closer and closer to his four-poster bed. The so-called prince was trying to make a move on you. 

        That would not be tolerated. 

        “I was only offering you orange juice,” you stuttered. Dread painted your face, and every word you spoke accompanied a frantic tremble of your delicate lips. Oikawa’s nostrils flared, but he stayed hidden, ready to pounce when the moment called. 

        “I know you were offering so much more than that.” The foreign prince stepped closer and stretched out a hand, snagging a strand of your hair and rolling it between his finger tips. You flinched as he did, and cringed at the feeling of his alarming proximity. You weren’t moving, or even breathing, and you looked about ready to faint. The prince, standing a good head taller than you, took this as a go-ahead however. 

        His black, curly hair lowered over his blazing eyes, and you clenched your own tightly shut at the feeling of his hot breath falling over your face. The finger twirling your strands stopped, only to drag down the side of your paled cheek.

        “I’ll show you a good time.”

        “Please don’t.” His body drew closer to yours. 

        “Just let me-” 

        Slam!

        With a ferocious kick to his gut, the prince went flying into his decorative bookshelf, causing the first two rows of novels and other decorations to topple onto his head. If looks could kill, the man would already be six feet under as Oikawa lowered his leg, grinding his jaw and heaving his chest up and down. Running a swift hand through his brown locks, your savior let a relaxed smile fall onto his face at the sight of the prince’s gashed forehead.

        “That’s no way to treat our workers,” the brunet spat, reaching blindly for you while delivering the offender a paralyzing glower. “Don’t ever let me see you around YN again.” When his hand met yours, he snatched your wrist and dragged you out of the room, leading you outside and away from the scene. 

        After you tugged on his hand in effort to get him to slow, Oikawa dug his heels into the rich carpet of the halls and swiveled back to you. His endless brown orbs searched you up and down for any signs of disturbance or corruption, and only found tears swimming in your eyes. You bit your bottom lip, but bowed your head respectfully nonetheless. 

        “Thank you so much, your majesty. I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened if you hadn’t been there to save me.” 

        The prince rolls his eyes and scoffs, tugging you into a bone-crushing hug and forcing your head into his shoulder. “How many times do I have to tell you to drop the stupid titles?” After a long moment, you giggle softly against his skin and wrap your arms around him, relaxing into his hold. 

        “Sorry, Tooru,” he felt you grin when he sighed in relief, and the act made him giddy, “I was worried someone would hear.” 

        “I don’t care. Maybe I want them to hear.” You pulled back and smacked his chest at the thought, but Oikawa didn’t care. You gave him your signature raised brow and opened your mouth to lecture him about “keeping your relationship under wraps” as per usual, only to be stopped by him pressing a finger to your lips. The feeling of you, no matter how small, almost made him groan in pleasure, but he held back, knowing you both needed to discuss what had happened. 

        The playful glow in his eyes darkened into a more serious tone, and one of his hands reached up, brushing your hair out of your face before cupping your red cheek. The other interlocked his fingers with your own, and he ran a thumb along the skin of your knuckles. You had dropped your feather duster a long while ago back in the room, so you were free to press your other hand over the one against your face. 

        “Are you okay?” he mumbles tightly, his gaze scanning over your body carefully once more. He doesn’t know what he would do if that man had hurt you. Actually….

        “I’m fine, but you’re about to break my fingers, so could you…” you trailed off and raised his grip into his view, displaying his suffocating grip. Oikawa let go in an instant, and his heart panged at the thought of hurting you. God, what was I thinking? Oikawa grimaced, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh of his palm. 

        “I’m so sorry.”

        While blood oozed from his wounds, you smiled gently at him and shook your head, dismissing his apology. “It doesn’t matter,” his chest fluttered at the words, “I’m just glad you were there, Tooru.” He almost whimpered at the name. 

        Oikawa’s body shivered in excitement as you drew closer, at last pressing your lips against his in a swift, loving kiss. 

        His muscles ached to trap you against him, keep you there for longer than the five seconds you had allowed, but he knew better than that. Anything more that barely-there touches in the halls, and he would frighten you away. 

        He couldn’t risk it.

        You pulled away just barely, letting your breaths brush his lips in the most intimate way as you let your eyes close, presumably to relish in the sensation. You felt the sparks of true love just as he did. He just knew it.

        He couldn’t lose you. He won’t lose you.

                                ~~~

        The door to his chambers clicked open, and Oikawa snarled at the interruption. He couldn’t stay mad for too long though. You were passed out with your head on his lap, sleeping contentedly. You were obviously worn out from the day’s events, and what better person to take care of you than the love of your life? The prince simpered at the thought, brushing his hands through your wild locks and leaning his back against his headboard.

        “Your majesty-”

        “Be quiet,” he hissed, hurling both knights a glare. When his gaze returned to you, it filled with adoration as he ran the pad of his index finger down the bridge of your nose faintly. You mewled under your breath and snuggled closer into his lap, still not waking. Oikawa cooed at the sight, and scratched your scalp with the tips of his fingernails. You always loved the feeling in your sleep; it was one of many things he knew about you.

        “Your majesty,” the first knight whispered, quieter this round. His gaze stayed locked on his liege, knowing that if it strayed south even once, the consequences would be dire. “What do you want us to do with the prince?”

        Oikawa’s lips quirk up and his expression softens. Ever so fondly, he strokes your supple cheeks with the back of his hand and leans down to peck your smooth forehead. As he drifts away a few inches from your undisturbed face, he hums serenely, enjoying the content atmosphere of the room.

        “Kill him.”

Envy on Leave (Spencer Reid x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

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

A/N: Hey I watch criminal minds now for one reason and one reason only. Can u guess what it is? Anyways, enjoy!

Word count: 2236

        His eyes had followed you all day. His gaze stayed locked on your figure as you smiled, laughed, and pushed Morgan away with a blush. On any normal day, that would be you with him, but since Spencer failed his last gun-on-the-field test, he had been punished with one week of desk duty. 

        ...Leaving you to partner up with Morgan on the newest case. 

        You and Spencer were good friends, both bonding over being the youngest on the squad while being somewhat prodigies. But where Spencer thrived in mind, you thrived in body, having one of the best aims at the academy and being exceptional at hand-to-hand combat. 

        Naturally, they paired you and Spencer together, tying together the two weak links. You’d needed more experience and familiarity with the cases the BAU handled; Spencer had needed training (or protection) on the off chance of a physical altercation happening on a case. But now that Spencer was confined to the office only, you were working without a partner, and so you had been paired up with Morgan.

        Something you didn’t seem to mind one bit. 

        He could see it, the both of you working together over a table scattered with papers. Derek’s hand would brush yours or your shoulder would bump his. You would snort at something he said or look deep into his eyes while explaining a lead you had uncovered. 

        Spencer burned with envy, jaw tight and eye twitching as he clicked on his mouse a little too tightly, only to hear a small crack. Glancing down, he scoffed at the sight of his jammed button, no longer able to move and therefore no longer able to select anything on his computer. Useless. 

        When he returned his gaze to your and Derek’s forms, his chest jumped at the sight of you staring right at him, a small smile on your face. The moment you noticed Spencer look up, though, you flinched away, a flush of pink rising up to your cheeks as you began to cough and spin in the complete opposite direction to avoid his gaze. 

        Spencer rose to his feet in concern, and Derek glanced at you in surprise, chuckling and patting you on the back as you choked on your own spit. 

        “Wrong pipe?” Spencer could barely hear him say from the distance but could read his lips. Not that he focused on those words too much, too busy watching the way Derek’s hand rested on your back and rubbed your shoulder blade. 

        It was when you whispered something then, Derek leaning in to hear you better and you, in turn, leaning closer to him as well that Spencer finally tore his gaze away. A swell of hot jealousy rose in his chest and burned his throat like bile. 

        His chair rolled back and slammed against the wall, almost shaking the room as Spencer snapped up from his seat. People startled to attention at the sound of the crash, eyes wide and confused when they saw Spencer as the cause. He saw you had twisted around as well to see what had happened, brows furrowing and lips parted when you met his gaze. 

        He held it, eyes never leaving yours as he tugged his computer toward him, pulling random cords. When he finally unhooked something, anything, he gathered up the cord in his hands and announced to the group, “I need a new mouse.”

        With his detached keyboard dangling by his side, Spencer stormed out of the room, leaving confusion and concern in his wake. 

                                ~~~

        “You need to tell her.”

        “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

        “Honey, you’re smart, not smooth--give up on this whole ‘lying makes me look cool’ spiel.”

        Spencer bit his tongue, trying to focus his eyes on the screen that Garcia had pulled up. Photos of the recent unsub who’d been murdering teenage girls in a small town. Stuck at the home office, Spencer could only wait for information of the case’s status to reach him, otherwise he had no clue how it was going or how the team was doing. 

        Or if you were okay.

        “Is it really a lie if there’s nothing to tell?” He dropped his eyes to the phone, still ringing and waiting for Morgan to pick up the call for the unsub’s identity.

        “No,” Garcia sighed, “but in your case, there’s plenty to tell.” She adjusted her glasses while zooming in on the various pictures, only peering out of the corner of her eyes to say, “Face it, Reid, you’re a smitten kitten.”

        “I am not-”

        “Sweetness, whatcha got for me?”

        “Suspect’s name and criminal history, as always. Aren’t I just a god?” Spencer rolls his eyes, sitting back in his chair and giving up on the argument as Garcia relays the information. Instead, he focused on the screen, familiarizing himself with the suspect until he heard your voice. 

        “Is Reid okay?” you asked in the background of the call, barely audible over Garcia and Morgan’s flirting. Spencer straightened up at that, head whipping toward the phone as he stopped in his tracks to listen for more.

        Garcia raised a smug brow as she paused mid-sentence, both lines quiet and waiting for Spencer’s response. Spencer parted his lips, preparing to speak before you asked, “Is he there with Garcia?”

        “Y-yes,” he sputtered, “I’m here.”

        The room turned quiet, neither side of the call quite sure how to respond. A shuffling on Morgan’s side clued into the fact that he’d handed her his phone, allowing her to talk to her missing partner. 

        “Oh, um,” her voice was louder, its shakiness more noticeable, “cool-I mean, good.”

        His heart warmed. “Yeah.”

        It went dead silent again, silent enough that Spencer could hear Garcia’s lashes brushing her skin as she rolled her eyes. There was a buzzing running along his veins as he sat and waited, thinking of how you’d wanted to know if he was okay, if he was there.

        “So… do- do you have any ideas about our guy?”

        And just like that, it was just you and Spencer delving into a case together again, even if he was so far away. 

        “A few.”

        “Give ‘em to me.”

                                ~~~

        It was the first unsub you’d taken down single-handedly, and the team decided to celebrate. “To YNs!” rang around the bar as the BAU clinked beer bottles together, everyone congratulating you and patting you on the back. A large grin spread across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes and making them gleam. 

        Spencer watched from a stool at the bar, a smile settling on his face dotted with a hint of pride. He watched as Garcia gave you a side hug, cracking her bottle against yours before whispering something in your ear that made your eyes widen. He tensed in his seat after that, grin dropping as a heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. 

        She told her. YN knows how I feel, and it wasn’t even from me. Shit.

        Your eyes never looked up, never tried to meet his even though you knew where Spencer was in the room. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. 

        Panic rattled his brain as he watched your every emotion from then on, trying to gauge how you felt about what Garcia had told you. 

        It was hard to do when Morgan approached you. 

        That look was on his face; Spencer knew it well. After a few beers, Morgan was loose enough to hit on women, loose enough to hit on you.

        Like a hawk, he watched the interaction--Morgan spoke under his breath, you laughed, he laid his hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him with that gleam in your eyes. 

        Spencer should have known. He should have seen it coming. Why would any girl prefer him over a guy like Morgan? Especially you? Big, muscular guys who were at your level of strength and stamina, and even compared to your mind in some ways. 

        Why would you want him? He couldn’t even pass the gun-on-the-field test. 

        Even though it hurt, Spencer watched your interaction with Morgan a little longer, taking in how you nodded at what he said, biting your lip and blushing at what he’d muttered as Morgan pointed at him and- Shit, she’s looking, act natural!

        Spencer spun toward the bar, almost falling off his stool as he slammed his hands against the counter to balance himself. Heart pounding in his chest, he set down the beer, a sigh escaping as he set his elbows on the surface and dropped his head into his hands.

        If there was ever a time where Spencer envied Morgan (which wasn’t often), it would be now. He thought you and him had had a connection; every case aside from this week’s you’d worked by his side, asking for his guidance and in turn adding your own opinions, unfiltered by previous cases. It was his shoulder that brushed against yours while cramming together to overlook the same group of files and papers; it was his hand that skimmed over yours; he was the one you walked out with every night, looked toward for guidance, high-fived after solving a case, and laid your head on during a long flight home. 

        How could he have been so stupid?

        “Spence?”

        YN.

        A hand pressed on top of one of his, still buried in his own hair. His skin tingled at your touch, and his heart tightened in appreciation. Gently, you tugged his hands out of his hair, forcing him to look up as you took a seat to his right. 

        “Hey, the only one who gets to tousle your hair is me, remember?” you teased, cheeks blooming into a soft pink. Spencer straightened up and faced you, eyes trailing up and down your face. When you shifted uncomfortably, he paled in embarrassment.

        “Congrats on your first solve, YN.” Instantly, your face lit up, and Spencer’s chest constricted. God, he loved when you smiled at him. 

        “I couldn’t have done it without you.” You took a sip of your beer, missing Spencer’s face falling.

        “Actually, it seems this was the one case you have done without me.” His voice turned forlorn, attracting your attention. 

        “What?”

        His lips quirked in bitter amusement. “You seemed to handle things quite well with your new partner.”

        Brows furrowing, you set down your beer, turning fully toward Spencer. “Are you talking about Morgan?”

        Yes.

        “Yes.”

        You paused, gaze turning thoughtful as you observed Spencer’s every action. You could see right through him; he could feel it. But your words confused him. “This case… I didn’t like it very much.”

        “What? Why?”

        You shook your head. “It wasn’t right.”

        “But you got the guy.”

        “No,” you smiled softly. “I know that, but… I didn’t enjoy it like I usually do. Not that I’m, like, a sick person or something!” you rambled nervously, hands gesturing in a panic. “It’s just,” you clenched your eyes shut and took a breath, “it sucked that I couldn’t work it with you.”

        Spencer froze. 

        “What?”

        You opened your eyes and looked at him, face fully red. “I wish you’d been there. You know, instead of… in-instead of Morgan.” 

        Spencer’s jaw dropped. Your eyes widened. 

        “Not that I don’t like Morgan! Morgan’s awesome! Not that I like Morgan in that way, though--and-and I don’t like you in that way either! Wait, that’s not what I meant--what I mean is that I like you in a way that I don’t like Morgan. No, wait, I like you in a way that is different from the way I like Morgan, and-crap, that sounds wrong-”

        Your voice seemed to fade as Spencer watched you frantically ramble. His heart pounded so loud it drowned out his own thoughts until all he could hear was Morgan’s not the one she likes; it’s me. She likes me. YN likes me and misses me and wants me around her and-holy shit. 

        “-and so yeah, I like you.” Your mouth slowed to a stop as you finally took in a breath, face transforming from the previous purple to a flushed red. 

        Spencer couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t take his eyes off you. The girl he’d fallen for since the minute he’d first met her returned his feelings. 

        “Spence?”

        His eyes dropped to your lips, following the way they muttered his name. 

        “Spencer?” 

        He lifted his hand, brushing his fingers along your warm cheek before running his thumb over your bottom lip. 

        “Say it again,” he mumbled. “Please.”

        “Spencer?”

        “No.”

        “I like you, Spencer,” you smiled against his thumb.

        “Yes.” He leaned forward, stepping down from his stool and still towering over you as his nose pressed against yours. He tugged your lips to his, his hands drawing yours up to his hair before cupping your face. When you tightened your grip on his locks, he sighed. His hot breath warmed your face as he pulled away, his thumb brushing along your puffy lower lip. “Always yes.”

Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 6~

(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: Ayeee, so it wasn’t like riding a bike and maybe just maybe this chapter sucks ass, but here we go! The long awaited part 6 of Reborn! I’m so happy y’all are liking it so far and I can promise you this won’t be the last chapter of *this year.* Winter break’s not over yet, so don’t lose hope now! Merry Christmas from me to you and, as always, enjoy!💜

Tag List: @burntcilantro  @alloverbutterflies  @neonghxst  @zaejia  @momothepeachgirl  @black-veil-chemicalz  @bumblebeel  @blxkstar  @keigosbitch  @spicyiwa  @rikorene  @idiot-juice-enthusiast  @cherriomilkmangos  @floriane4536  @shimy-deko  @lanceyfancypants  @asteroikawa  @bokutowo  @ichiraku-verse  @samie-babie  @astro-anomaly  @hq149  @paganandshit  (some don’t work 😔)

Word count: 4500

        “YN.”

        Bokuto stirs on the ground, whimpering your name just once more while he stutters out a breath. Behind his lids, his eyes stir rapidly but not once does he wake. 

        The sight warms your heart just as much as it pains it. They’re alive, but at what cost? It was clear Kuroo hadn’t bothered to feed them in the week or so that they had been left in the cages, leaving both their bodies to wither to breathing skeletons. 

        Akaashi’s cheekbones jutted out in the moonlight as his head leaned against the wall. His lashes gently brushed the skin just under his eyes as he slumbered but he still looked ready to startle at even the smallest of noises. 

        One of those being your footsteps brushing the concrete of the basement. 

        They fluttered and slid open, revealing those gunmetal blue eyes you adored so dearly. Even though the dank scent of decaying meat stung your nose, you still inhaled when Akaashi seemed awake enough to notice you. 

        “YN…?” he mumbled, sleep and exhaustion gruffing his voice. Your heart jumped at the familiar tone and you bit back a whimper. 

        “Akaashi-”

        “YN!” Akaashi sprung himself up from the dusty floor and crashed into the iron bars, shackled hands clanging against the metal. “YN, oh God, please tell me this is real.”

        “It is,” you nodded, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, “it is, and thank fuck you’re okay.” Carefully, you reached out a hand and cupped his face, releasing a breathless laugh when he kissed your palm before leaning into the hold. 

        Even the smallest touch felt like pure euphoria as Akaashi’s cheek brushed against your fingertips, lighting up a million tingles all throughout your body. A shiver works its way deep through your bones, bringing goosebumps and a haunting reality along with it.

        “Kuroo,” you swallowed, observing as Akaashi’s gaze grew hard, “he said you guys were dead.”

        His jaw twitched but the wizard kept silent, taking the smallest of glances back at Bokuto through the bars of his own cell. 

        The action makes you pause and panic, your hold on Akaashi faltering as you too look at the vampire collapsed on the floor. “Wait, Bokuto, is he-” you glance back at the wizard as he shakes his head, reaching a single hand up to press your palm back against his lips.

        “No, my love, he’s okay. I promise. It’s surprisingly hard to kill the supernatural.”

        “Then why-”

        “Trust me, YN, it’s better if you don’t wake him.” Akaashi’s hold on your wrist tightens in warning, but there’s more concern in his eyes than anything. “You don’t want to see him like this.”

        “Akaashi,” your voice softens as you brush a hair from his forehead. It’s cold to the touch, a disturbing fact you struggle to shake away before you continue. “I’ve seen him through this phase before, and even then I could trust him. Let me try.”

        “My love, forgive me, but you’re wrong.” Your brows furrow as the wizard gazes into your eyes unflinchingly. There’s a concern you’ve never seen before that stuns you for a split second.

        Even Akaashi himself seems haunted by what’s happening to Bokuto just a few feet away. You can still hear his whimpers and see his body tremble, but the younger man was right--there was something feral about the vampire’s movements now. 

        Every twitch jolted his body like a strike of lightning and every moan had the smallest of rumbles layered beneath. His form was curled in on itself, but it seemed like the days he had been in captivity had only stood to make him grow larger. In a single ray of the moon, you could see his hands now.

        His nails had grown sharper than knives and each tip was doused in red. 

        “What happened to him? What changed?” With struggle, you tear your uneasy gaze away from the ecstatic boy you had grown to know. “It’s only been a week--I know he’s gone for longer without… my blood.”

        “Yes, when he knew you were safe. Now, it’s been one week and he hasn’t heard or seen a single thing from you.” The wizard stole another glance at his longtime friend. “Things are different this time. He’s changing and losing control of himself.” 

        Guilt tore at your heart now because, deep down, you couldn’t help but feel this was your fault. Bokuto was in pain because he was worried about your well-being. Back when you were in the mansion, he would constantly check up on you however often he could. When he couldn’t, Akaashi was sent to be the messenger. 

        Now, he’s had no one to reassure him of your safety. Kuroo could have killed you for all he knew and no doubt that thought had been eating at him for the past seven days while he was stuck in this cell. 

        That’s exactly why you needed him to see you now, so he didn’t have to worry anymore. 

        “Akaashi, I can’t just let him stay like that.”

        “YN, don’t!” Akaashi’s eyes widened when you twisted out of his grip and moved towards Bokuto’s cell. The wizard reached for you in a panic but only groaned when his shackles once more clanked against the iron bars like a warning. “YN, please, even I don’t know how he’ll react right now! He’s too dangerous!”

        It didn’t matter. You had left him to suffer like this and you couldn't stand the thought of just leaving him in there without ever letting him see you in return. 

        It wasn’t fair, and in your heart of hearts you knew you wanted to feel his touch just as much as you had wanted Akaashi’s. 

        “Bokuto,” you called out as loud as you thought was appropriate. There was still the variable of you being in what you hoped was a soundproof dungeon to be considered, and you held onto that hope as you tried to get the vampire’s attention. 

        “Bokuto!”

        Nothing. Just another stir of his body and another whimper of your name.

        Akaashi was still reaching for you, warning evident in his voice as pleaded with you in any way possible to stop. 

        “Please, YN, what if he hurts you? I’ve never seen him like this. He could snap, for all we know.”

        You stayed silent, letting the thought of being hurt by Bokuto roll off your back. Even if he did, which you doubted, you didn’t want your finding them to be in vain. 

        If Kuroo were to ever discover you had found them tonight, you at least wanted to see Bokuto one last time and vice versa before the cat undoubtedly took you away.

        However, nothing you whisper-yelled seemed to stir the slumbering vampire. In a last ditch effort, you glanced around the room for something--anything, really. Like… that pebble that just so happened to be inches away from your freezing toes. Perfect.

        “YN, don’t even think about-” Too late.

        The pebble ricocheted right off Bokuto’s temple and onto the floor inches from his face. 

        For a few seconds, you and Akaashi both held your breath as the atmosphere of the basement grew ten times thicker. 

        But nothing happened. 

        In fact, all Bokuto did was stop snoring and even making a peep, and you figured you had found his secret “Silent Mode” button. His body stopped twitching and shivering, and after a couple seconds, Akaashi rolled his eyes and let his shoulders fall to their original place. 

        “Well done, my love. If I had known all I needed to do was throw a rock at Bokuto’s head to shut him up, I would’ve done that the second day we got here.”

        “Akaashi!” you chided, huffing at your failure of a plan. What more could be done that couldn’t wake up the entire werecat clan? 

        The wizard only shrugged. “My love, I know you wanted him to see you, but it was too much of a risk. Neither of us know how he would’ve reacted. Count your blessings and return back to your room before that cat finds you’ve escaped.”

        “Akaashi…”

        “I’ll let him know you were here and you were okay,” he gives you a soft smile before nodding to the creaky door you had entered just twenty minutes ago. “Be safe.”

        “I-”

        “Darling.”

        “Yes?”

        The voice hadn’t startled you in the slightest; it was only the look of shock on Akaashi’s face that had made you realize oh shit, that was Bokuto.

        You swiveled back to the second cell so fast you gave yourself whiplash, your head growing woozy but that didn’t stop you from sprinting back in front of your vampire. 

        His eyes were open now, his back no longer facing you. A shadow was cast on his body when he had rolled over, however, and now all you could see in his dim, molded cell were his glowing red eyes. 

        Two flaring orbs the color of fresh-spilt blood pierced your soul from twenty feet away one second.

        Bokuto’s hand wrapped around your throat the next. 

        Fangs bared, you couldn’t even brace for impact before the shock hit you like a freight train. It numbed the pain you were so used to for what must’ve been a minute as you stood there, a statue of horror. 

        Finally, your brain caught up to the action and you cried out, pushing against Bokuto’s chest as a burning sensation festered against your throat. A loud thumping pounded against your ears as you whined, feeling his teeth dig deeper in than they ever had before. A fogginess took over your eyesight as your knees grew weak; suddenly, all you could do was let your jaw hang open as oxygen lodged in your throat.

        “Bokuto, stop, you’re hurting her!”

        Stop, please. It hurts.

        Oh God, please let me go.

        Muffled under the sound of your blood sloshing against your eardrums, you can hear Akaashi’s yelling and then-

        Two knocks at the wooden door.

        The pressure and pain around your neck all release at the same time and you collapse to the ground, trembling while pressing a hand to your neck in despair. A cry rips its way out of your throat just before the door squeals open. 

        “Am I interrupting something?”

        Kuroo slips in through the doorway, observing the scene with pursed lips. When his gaze lands on you, his dark eyes flash for a split second before he produces a pristine, white handkerchief from the pocket of his basketball shorts. 

        “YN,” the werecat presses a hand against yours on your neck, urging it away before replacing it with the cloth, “did he hurt you?”

        You don’t make a sound, still focusing on trying to steady your breathing while Kuroo crouches by your side. Before you know it, his lips are pressed against your damp forehead and, of course, the reaction is instant. 

        “Don’t touch her!” Akaashi sneers at him, wrapping two fists around his iron bars tight enough to leave his knuckles white. “You have no right to lay a finger on her.”

        “And you do?” Kuroo laughs bitterly as he pulls away, still keeping one hand against your back to keep you upright. “Look what happens at just a little touch.” He gestures from your blood-soaked nightgown up to your shivering shoulders. “She gets hurt.”

        You don’t bother sparing enough energy for a rebuttal. Even an ounce might leave you unconscious any second, so instead you stay silent and observe. 

        Akaashi’s face is guilt-ridden as he stares at you, his eyes just as broken as his heart. Bokuto, on the other hand, is facing away from you entirely. His back is curled over his entire form as he crouches in the darkest corner of his cell, but you can hear the smallest of wails as he does so. His shoulders shiver and shake as he hugs himself, whispering incomplete thoughts littered with “monster,” “kill,” and “YN.”

        “No excuses now, are there?” Kuroo sighs and shakes his head. “You were the ones who hurt her. Can you accept that, or are you so selfish that you still want her to crawl back to you?”

        Akaashi flinches like he’s been slapped, cringing as he avoids complete eye contact with you. Instead, all he can do is stare at the rag slowly gathering more and more blood at your collarbone. 

        At that point, you think the exertion is worth it to defend them, but before you know it, Kuroo’s whisked you up into his arms and carried you all the way through the door with a slam. 

        “Don’t worry, kitten. I won’t let an incident like this ever happen again.”

                                ~~~

        “How’s your steak?”

        “It’s fine.”

        “Too raw? I know you don’t like that much pink in the middle.”

        “It’s fine,” you repeat, sliding the knife back through the meat without so much as a glance towards Kuroo. 

        You know he’s been growing frustrated at your lack of a response lately, but you weren’t quite sure what else to do. It’s been three days since Bokuto attacked you and you still can’t shake it from your mind. 

        Nightmares haunt you, chasing after you with glowing red eyes. As always, you try to run but your feet feel like they’re trapped in quicksand. You’re never fast enough, and then--bite. 

        The bandage on your neck is useless at this point; you know it because you’ve had experience in the neck-wound area. Bokuto’s bites, no matter how hard, only take a day and a half to heal. Only after your first bite was there the lasting effect of trauma and nightmares--now was just another exception. 

        That’s all you wanted it to be, at least. You hoped it was just a little accident (as easy as it is to say after having time to get over the pain). And yet you knew it was hurting the boys trapped deep down in the basement. 

        Sometimes, you still think you can hear Bokuto crying out your name. 

        Most of the time, you blame it on your imagination. 

        “YN.” Kuroo’s snap draws your attention back to him, reminding you that you still had to play nice with him. “Lost up there, huh?”

        “Uh, yeah,” you return to chewing on another bite of steak. “Just thinking.”

        It was a tad too raw.

        “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

        “Doesn’t everybody?”

        Kuroo chuckles, watching over the rim of his glass as you swallow a gulp of wine. “There’s that fire I love.” 

        You almost choke on your drink.

        A sly look appears in his eyes as he stares you down, setting his own utensils on the table to prop his elbows up and fold his hands. From there, he sets his chin down on his knuckles and tilts his head. “You’re thinking about them again, aren’t you?”

        Hmm, play dumb or be honest, play dumb or be honest…

        “Don’t try to play dumb with me.” Damn. “There’s not much you can hide from me anymore, YN. I’ve known you too long.”

        This pisses you off. He didn’t know you. No one really knew you. The only people who knew you were-

        “Bokuto and Akaashi hurt you, YN, and yet you still want to be with them. If that’s not blind love, I don’t know what is.”

        “They didn’t-

        “How’s that bite doing, by the way?”

        “Don’t,” you hiss, throwing him a nasty glare. “Don’t pretend you know shit about how I feel or who I care for.”

        “Do you care for me?”

        “Fuck you.”

        “That’s not an answer,” Kuroo simpers.

        “Maybe try that ‘thinking’ thing and you’ll find one.”

        His face falls and his jaw clenches. “Fine. I relent,” he holds his hands up as a gesture of peace before picking up his knife and fork once more, digging back into his dinner. “That topic of conversation makes me lose my appetite anyway.”

        Nostrils flaring, you take another indignant sip of wine.

        Kuroo eyes you as you do so, lips twitching as you set down the glass. “Let us talk about something else, kitten.”

        “Please no.”

        “What did sweet little Akaashi tell you about magic?”

        His question actually prods your interest for once and you sit up a little straighter. What did you remember? Only that he didn’t want you to mess with it or you would die… or something along those lines. 

        “Judging by your curiosity, I’m guessing it wasn’t much.” Kuroo licks his lips. “Though, might I add having your full attention is thrilling, if I do say so myself.”

        “Get on with it, jackass.”         “At least I get a nickname. One point for me,” Kuroo snickers. You roll your eyes and empty the rest of the wine glass, but that only seems to excite him more. 

        “Kitten,” he finally begins, “magic can be wielded by anyone. Spells and such can be cast by your average Joe.”

        Anyone? Kuroo’s point in all of this was still beyond you, so you urged for him to continue. 

        “So?”

        “So, wizards only exist for the simple reason that they are the only people powerful enough to use and create light magic. ‘If the soul is pure’ and all that other bullshit.”

        “Why are you telling me this, Kuroo?”

        “Because, kitten, dark magic can be wielded by anyone--though, using it is… severely frowned upon.”

        At that moment, you felt a twinge in your stomach. A small churning that lifted up, up, up into the top of your chest and expanded until you almost felt it hard to breathe. 

        And then the bubble burst. 

        Burp.

        “Oop, excuse me.” You cleared your throat. “Anyways, fascinating story, Kuroo, but what does this have to do with, oh, I don’t know, anything?”

        A glint of something sparked in Kuroo’s gaze but disappeared just as fast. “Nothing, kitten. Just thought you would have liked to know. And now, something you might be more interested in.”

        “Yes?” Like you were on the edge of your seat. 

        The werecat huffed, his irises growing thinner. “I’ve decided to allow you one visit to those scumbags, but don’t expect me to be this generous again.”

                                ~~~

        Walking down the same hallways you had followed just days ago felt… bittersweet. You wanted to feel excited about seeing Akaashi and Bokuto again but it felt like a boulder had been dropped in your chest, shoving down any ecstatic emotions you’d expected to have. 

        Something was terribly wrong. 

        Kuroo wasn’t being any too discreet about the situation either. A forced frown but glowing eyes told you to be wary of whatever you were going to find in the basement. 

        Or whatever was going to happen. 

        You knew you would have to confront what had happened with Bokuto. What he’d… done to you. As you followed the marbled paths of Kuroo’s home with two werecats just on your tail, you couldn’t help but feel the urge to curl up in a hole and hide rather than discuss that. 

        You’d rather eat bugs. You’d rather bungee jump and break the string. You’d rather-

        “We’re here.”

        The boy you’d assumed was Kenma--and rightfully so--lackadaisically gestured towards the door, not even bothering to open it for you before walking off with his friend.

        “Wait!” You held out a hand to stop him, “You’re not… like, supposed to come in with me?” Not that you wanted him to, but you figured Kuroo would want some sort of visual on you while you talked to your soulmates. 

        “Do you need me to wipe your ass too?” the blond man sneered, one hand on his hip while the other clutched a phone at his side. “Just hurry up before I leave you to find your way back to your room.”

        With that, he dropped to the floor just outside the hall, legs laid out flat in front of him while he began tapping away on the glowing screen. 

        What a delightful guy. 

        Huffing a sigh, you hugged the sweatshirt around your body closer to your stomach, remembering just how cold and miserable the room had been the last time. Though the horrifying end of the reunion just three nights ago had shocked any thought of temperature from your mind, you still remember returning to your room that night with blue fingers.

        Just the thought made you wonder how Bokuto and Akaashi were even still alive in there. 

        Swallowing all your anxiousness, you tiptoed your black sneakers all the way to the oak door at the end of the hall and hovered a hand over the chrome knob. 

        Even in the flickering light, you could see your warped appearance. Thick, dark circles framing red-stained eyes served as a heavy reminder that you hadn’t gotten a solid night’s sleep in a week. You could feel your own mouth draw into a natural frown and couldn’t bother to put in the effort to smile. 

        You knew this interaction was going to suck, but it was the not knowing of how much that made you refrain from even turning the handle. 

        Just when you made the conscious thought to cover your nail-bitten fingers with a cotton sleeve, you heard Kenma rise from his position on the floor and walk away. 

        Well that didn’t last long. 

        And with that, you opened the door. 

        The staircase was more haphazard and creaky than you remembered. Each step squealed under the slightest pressure, making every move you made sound like rat torture. There was a distinct scent of bleach and body odor that wafted up and singed your nose hairs as you crept down the stairs, a held breath bubbling your cheeks. 

        Like night and day, the room you now entered had a depressing atmosphere about it. Or, at least, that’s what it gave you. This time, there were no waves of excitement arriving with thumping heartbeats in your chest. This time, you knew exactly what you were getting into.

        Starting with Akaashi, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

        Unsurprisingly, Bokuto was curled up in the same corner, but it appeared like he hadn’t moved since the last time you’d come down. 

        Part of you was thankful you didn’t have to be met with those glowing red eyes again. 

        Akaashi’s eyes cracked open the second he heard you scuffing along the floor, and he rose from his position with extreme care. Cautiously, he held up his cuffed hands and approached the bars. He was trying not to scare you away. 

        “YN.” He mumbled your name with a tenderness you would find in a mother consoling her child. “Are you okay?”

        Anger bubbled at the words. Surely he was patronizing you? In the back of your head, you felt a voice scratching at you, trying to tell you that this was Akaashi. You cared for him as he cared for you, and he didn’t deserve a lick of mistreatment. Neither of them did. 

        Fuck that.

        “Am I okay?” You scoffed, throwing him a bitter smile. “Oh, I don’t know, Akaashi, do I look okay? Does the bruise around my throat look okay? Does my bleeding wound look okay? You tell me if I look okay!”

        Fury lodged itself in your throat as you charged towards his cell, sneering when he backed away just out of reach. Your hands wrapped around the bars and tightened just enough to satisfy your urge to strangle. 

        “My love, calm down.” Akaashi looked you over, head-to-toe, with a concerned gaze. “Something’s wrong, just tell me.”

        “Aww, of course sweet little Akaashi wants to make everything better,” you pouted, puppy dog eyes on full display. “What are you gonna do? Curse all my pain away like last time?”

        The wizard flinched at the jab, furrowing his brows before setting his jaw. “This isn’t you, YN. Kuroo’s done something to you.”

        “That’s where you’re wrong, my love,” you spat. “This is me finally being honest with you. Doesn’t the truth hurt like a bitch?”

        He pursed his lips, forcing himself to stay silent while observing your every move like a hawk. The feeling of his eyes on your skin only helped to piss you off more. With an indignant huff from your nose, you released your iron-grip on the bars of his cell and stepped back, lifting your chin to stare down at him. 

        “All right, Akaashi. Hide that anger like you always do, but I won’t hold back. And you know who else won’t hold back?” You drag your gaze to the right, trailing along the musty room until finally landing on the slumped form in the corner of the only other cell. A perfect target. 

        Akaashi didn’t even bother to follow your gaze before shaking his head. “Please, YN, whatever Kuroo’s done to you, don’t take it out on him. Bokuto’s already punishing himself enough for what happened.”

        “No, Akaashi.” At last, the wet blanket spoke. “I deserve whatever she has to say.”

        “Bo-”

        The vampire cut off his friend by rising abruptly, joints cracking with the movement as he stumbled over to the bars of the cell to face you. 

        Seeing his face made you pause in your agenda. The last time you had seen him, you never really got to study his face--especially with all the biting that was happening. Now, you finally noticed. 

        His eyes were back to their signature golden, though they may as well still have been red considering how bloodshot they were. The skin of his cheeks were damp while his lips were bitten and bleeding, and all you could focus on was just how much love he still held in his gaze. It was disguised as regret as he slumped his shoulders in so much he could’ve caved in on himself any second. 

        You loved it. He had become so broken like an empty shell of himself that he couldn’t even bear to look you in the eyes and confront his mistake. The guilt wafted of him in waves and you drank it right up. 

        The nagging voice in the back of your head fought back full force and stole the glare right off your face, but it never stood a chance against the words that slipped out of your mouth. 

        “I hate you.”

Previous  Masterlist  Next

List Of Alternate Universes

Alternate Universe (also known as alternate reality), is commonly abbreviated as AU and it is a descriptor used to characterize fanworks which change one or more elements of the source work’s canon. The term most often refers to fanfiction, but fanart can also depicted the characters in AUs.

Unlike regular fanfiction, which generally remains within the boundaries of the canon set out by the author, alternate universe fiction writers like to explore the possibilities of pivotal changes made to characters’ history, motivations, or environment.

Alien Invasion AU – In which the story deals with an alien invasion when canonically it does not ever happened.

All Human AU – In which characters who are canonically non-human are now humans, with corresponding changes to their backstories.

Alpha/Beta/Omega AU – Often referred to as A/B/O or even Omegaverse. It is a growing trope of AUs originated in kinkmemes in which characters can be Alphas (dominant males or females), Betas (ordinary working class), or Omegas (submissive males or females).

Android AU – In which the main character or most of the cast are turn into androids that serve different purposes, such as bodyguard, solider, caregiver and so on. In other cases it becomes something similar to Absolute Boyfriend (Zettai Kareshi) where they are mail order androids that can be order online or from a cataloged. If not, they may have originally been human but turn into an android for whatever reason.

Angel/Demon AU – When angels and demons exist (in the case of canons that don’t have them) or a character is recast as one of them. However, these kind of AUs don’t necessarily have to have both beings in the story as some tend to focus on only one of them.

Arranged Marriage AU – Similar to the Marriage Law AU, only the difference is that not all the characters are required to be married. It is mostly focused on only one pairing and it is usually a pairing that wouldn’t normally get together such as crack ships or doomed ships. In some stories it is a plausible idea, but in others it is not.

Bakery AU – When most of the cast of a story works at a bakery while the rest are customers.

BDSM AU – Is when the entire cast is either a dominant or a submissive and BDSM relationships are considered the norm. Be advised that while a healthy BDSM relationship is consensual and not dangerous, if handled incorrectly it can result in abusive behavior which is offensive and considered bad BDSM etiquette.

Bookstore AU – When most of the casts works at a bookstore. If not, usually a few of the characters work there, while the rest of them are customers. Another version is the Library AU, in which one or two of the characters are librarians, while the rest of the cast spend their time looking for particular books.

Business AU – In which the story is set in a building and the characters are employees. Sometimes it is focus on one character who works as a secretary and another character as their boss. 

Circus AU – In which the story is set in a circus and the characters are circus performers or customers.

Coffee Shop AU – Also known as Barista AU. In most cases, one half of the main pairing is the barista and the other is or becomes their favorite customer; in some stories the whole cast works at a coffee shop.

Crime AU – In which the characters of a story are various type of criminals, such as burglars, bank robbers, gangsters, drug dealers, smugglers, hitman/fixer and so on. This AU focuses on their criminal lives. It is similar to the Mafia AU.

Darkside AU – Is when the canon villain of the story succeeds in their mission and the AU story focuses on the outcome of it.

Desert island AU – Or an uninhabited island AU, in which a character or most of the characters of a story are trapped on a deserted island, usually from being shipwrecked or their plane crashing.

Dystopian AU – Is set in a dystopian society that is not the original setting of the canon.

Fairy Tail AU – In which canon characters are put into situations and/or settings from fairy tales, such as Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty,  Little Red Riding Hood, etc.

Fantasy AU – In which the story takes place in a fantasy universe where magic or magical abilities is normal, technology is nonexistent and supernatural creatures exist.

Flower Shop AU – Similar to the Coffee Shop AU and the Bakery AU, but instead the entire cast works in a flower shop. Or one of the characters works there and the rest are customers.

Genderswap AU – In which one or more characters in the story switch binary sexes, such as depicting a male character as a cis woman.

Harem AU – Or Reverse Harem AU is when a story that doesn’t contain any polygamous or love triangle relationships turns into one. Usually the main character has something happen to them that attracts the other characters to them, be it from a love potion, experimental perfume, spell gone wrong, and so on.

Haunted House AU – Or Haunted Castle AU, in which a character moves into a new home or castle and doesn’t know that it is haunted (usually by a ghost, sometimes a demon or some other type of creature) or they are dared by their friends to spend the night in it. 

High School/College AU – In which the characters are shown in high school or in college together. They are often done with characters who canonically meet later in life, altering or entirely overwriting their original backstories. Similar to this AU is the Boarding School AU and the Elementary School AU.

Hogwarts AU – In which the characters from other stories are placed into the setting of Harry Potter. These can be coexistent with Harry Potter canon, or ignore it entirely. But they are often portrayed as students of Hogwarts instead of teachers that work there.

Hospital AU – In which the characters of a story are doctors, nurses and patients in a hospital (sometimes it is set in an asylum). 

Hooker AU – Where one or more of the characters is a sex worker. The more common is the Pretty Woman-type fantasy of a hooker with a heart of gold, rescued from life on the streets by a client. Sex work of all kinds is portrayed: brothels, escorts, street prostitution, “call-girls” as well as strippers and go-go boys. Most of the time one character of the pairing is the hooker and the other the client, though some stories have both characters as prostitutes (sometimes along with other canon characters, in either a brothel-type setting or living on the streets).

Hunger Games AU – In which characters from other stories are competitors in the Hunger Games.

Ice Cream Shop AU – When the casts works at an ice cream shop. Possibly one of the characters owns it, while the rest are employees or customers.

Law Enforcement/Military AU – In which the cast are policeman, federal agents, soldiers, marines or whatnot and the story focuses on their lives.

Mafia AU – In which the characters are in a mafia.

Magic AU – Incorporate magic in stories where there is no magic present in canon.

Marriage Law AU – It spawn from the Marriage Law Challenge in the Harry Potter fandom, in which the premise is to forced marriage between a Muggle-born to a Pure-blood (or Half-Blood) due to a new decree passed by the Ministry of Magic to help preserve the magical population. 

Master/Slave AU – In which the cast are place in an universe where slavery is an accepted economic and cultural institution. Some stories treat this as a significant moral problem to be resisted and overthrown if possible; others treat slavery as an unchangeable institution.

Merpeople AU – Or also known as Undersea AU, in which a story is set in the ocean and the characters are turned into mermaids and merman. Sometimes it’s focus on only one character that becomes a mermaid or merman and another character that is a human. When it’s the latter the AU usually turns into a Little Mermaid type of story.

Modern AU – In which characters from a historical (or pseudo-historical) canon universe are placed into a modern setting.

Monster AU – In which the characters are changed into non-human creatures, such as Incubus/Succubus or other kinds of monsters.

No Human AU – Also known as Animal AU, is the opposite of All Human AU, in which characters that are canonically human are now non-humans.

Noir Detective AU – In which the characters are put in a typical ‘40s or ‘50s film noir environment. Or sometimes as a homage towards the style, in which the characters are still their canon selves, but plot or aesthetics are given a noir slant.

Opposite AU – In which canon personalities and backstories are swapped out with an opposite versions of themselves. Such as a quiet shy character may become loud and outgoing.

Pacific Rim AU – In which the characters are put into the world of Pacific Rim (most often as Jaeger pilots). This AU gained popularity due to the concept of Drift Compatibility that made for excellent shipping interactions.

Pen Pal AU – Is when two characters (who have met in canon) have not met each other in this AU. Sometimes they live in the area and other times they don’t live on the same continent. Usually it is their school that sets them up as pen pals. If not, it is because one of the characters writes a letter to the wrong person/wrong address or they accidentally texts the wrong person.

Pirate AU – When the whole cast are pirates and it is focus on shipboard life, usually it is set in early nineteenth-century Europe. Sometimes it’s pirates in outer space.

Prison AU – In which characters meet for the first time in an prison environment where they have to depend on each other.

Private Detective AU – When one of the characters becomes a professional detective while the rest of the cast are their clients or the detective’s contacts in the police department (sometimes they work in other fields, in which the Detective character calls them in for favors to help solve difficult cases).

Reincarnation AU – In which stories with historical canon setting have the characters become reincarnated into a modern setting and in doing so they are quite similar to their canon selves.

Reverse AU – Is when the roles (and sometimes backstories) of the characters are swapped, such as the hero is the villain and the villain is the hero.

Rockstar AU – In which the main casts is a popular music band or one of them is a solo artists with many groupies which may consist the rest of the characters. 

Roommate AU – In which the characters in a fandom are all living together in an apartment or an house. Usually this kind of story is focused on two characters that become roommates.

Royalty AU – Where one or more characters (who canonically aren’t) are members of a royal family. This usually goes hand in hand with a historical period, featuring a Medieval AU or Regency AU, although some works are set in Modern times or even the Future.

Single Parent AU – In which a character has a child or becomes a parent in someway and raises them on their own. 

Soulmates AU – Is when two (or more) characters are fated to be together, sometimes through multiple lives and/or into the afterlife. Sometimes but not always, the pairing might have a characteristic or tell to help them find each other, such as identical or complementary birthmarks, tattoos, scars, or an invisible string that ties to their other half which becomes thicker and shorter the closer they get to them. Some stories only need a character to hear (or just see) their soulmate to know who they are.

Space AU – Where a fandom that is canonically set on Earth becomes set in outer space.

Spy AU – Also known as Secret Agent AU or Espionage AU. The whole cast is turned into spies, sometimes they work for the same organization, government or they operate independently. Other times the AU is focused on only one or two characters that are the spies.

Superpowers AU – In which the characters have superpowers and are either heroes and/or villains. 

Steampunk AU – In which a story is turned into a futuristic/sci-fi version of a 19th Century, usually Victorian or Edwardian containing clocks, gears, springs, steam power, analog computers, airships, etc. 

Vampire/Werewolf AU – In which vampires and werewolves exist (in the case of canons that don’t have them) or a character is recast as a vampire or werewolf. However, these kind of AUs don’t necessarily have to have both species as some tend to focus on only one kind.

Victorian AU – In which characters from a modern or future-set story are relocate to a stereotypical Victorian romanticism era.

Western AU – In which the characters are transplanted into the “Old West”; or sometimes, especially in science fiction stories a Space Western equivalent, which may involve a western-type plot without horses and cattle ranches.

Wonderland AU – In which the story and the characters are turned into their own version of “Alice in Wonderland”.

Zombie Apocalypse AU – Also know as Zombie AU. In which stories that don’t contain an zombie apocalypse have it happen to them.

Note: This isn’t a complete list of AUs, but I will keep updating it whenever I come across something new (or someone lets me know what I’m missing). Also, keep in mind that sometimes an AU story is combine with others elements. For example, instead of the very common story about the characters attending a high school in modern times, it can be a magical school set in an futuristic world. 

Love Me Through the Phone (Bokuto x Reader) (NSFW)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After Bokuto leaves for an away game on Valentine’s Day weekend, you’re left to handle the day’s pleasures all on your own. There’s just one little problem--nothing comes close to what Bokuto could give you. Luckily, he offers a solution, and though it’s completely out of your wheelhouse, you find yourself desperate enough to give in.

Warnings: smut, phone sex, mutual/guided masturbation, dirty talk, slight praise kink, slight dumbification, edging (if you squint), (gentle) dom!Bokuto

A/N: Happy belated Valentine’s Day! Here’s a lil gift from me to u that I’ve had stuck on my mind for a while. Yes, yes, I know, I ain’t great at writing smut, so if someone else wrote this prompt w/ Best Boi Bokuto™ uhh… *cough cough* sendittomeplsnthx. Enjoy!

Word count: 2731

        “So… what are you wearing?”

        “Jesus Christ,” you break off into a laugh, picking up the phone. 

        “Nah, nah, c’mon, I’m serious. We gotta start somewhere.”

        Still shaking your head, you lean back on the bed once more, propped up on a few pillows but otherwise completely reclined. “Fine, fine, but anything else like that and I’m gonna have to leave you to your hand.”

        “I promise, now c’mon. Tell me.”

        “Seriously?”

        “One-hundred percent.”

        You purse your lips, debating a little. You can feel how much you want it--want him--and when you shift your hips, you can almost feel it soaking uncomfortably against your clothing. He’d texted you minutes ago with a proposition after learning of your predicament last night. 

        You’d wanted him so bad, but that alone wasn’t enough. Bokuto was off at an away game, and the distance--plus it being Valentine’s Day--only made things worse. You’d tried so hard, even trying to imagine his hand in your own’s place, even his tongue. It was just not enough. 

        Though, Bokuto didn’t seem to know how to handle the situation either. 

        “Fine, fine. I’m, uh, I’m wearing that little dress you like-”

        “Yeah?”

        “-and those silk panties you almost tore that one time.”

        “Really?”

        “Fuck no. It’s a Monday--I’m wearing sweats and a tank top, and I’m pretty sure there’s at least two rats making babies in my hair.”

        “Well at least someone’s getting some.”

        “Kou!”

        “Sorry, YN!” Bokuto whines, his voice crackling through the line. “But come on! Take this seriously.” He pauses, silence flooding your room.

        “Just… let me help you.”

        Your thighs subconsciously clench at the tone. It’s so familiar it’s like they’re preparing to be spread apart. 

        The place between your thighs is soaked by now, far more stirred than you’re letting on. The fact that your voice is still steady surprises even you at this point. 

        “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

        “Don’t be, baby. Just lay back for me, will you?”

        “Okay.” Gnawing at your cheek, you make the choice to place Bokuto on speaker, setting him down just beside your shoulder so you can hear his every word. At this point, you’re on your back, head lain on a pillow and hands dancing along the strings of your sweats.

        “Comfy?”

        “Yeah.”

        “Good.” There’s a few shuffles over the phone, and when Bokuto’s voice returns he sounds a little out of breath, a little strained. “Good. Okay.”

        “Okay,” you nervously parrot, not really sure what else to do with yourself. Slowly, you’re beginning to gather that neither of you have done this before. Despite Bokuto sounding so confident earlier, he now seems reduced to the same anxious, aroused mess that you are. 

        “All right, now just…just follow my lead, okay?” 

        “Mhmm.”

        “I want you to go slow, no matter what I tell you. Don’t speed up until I say.” His orders, simply the thought of their implications, leave your fingers twitching closer to your arousal. The need to touch yourself was beginning to leave a yearning that ran rampant through your veins. A single spark filled your stomach with heat. 

        “Okay.”

        “Good,” he exhaled. “Now touch yourself.”

        You almost choked on your spit. “Wh-uh, I mean,” your gaze traced along the ceiling frantically, desperately trying to distract yourself from the burning in your cheeks. “Like, where?” 

        Your question had slipped out without a second thought, and when Bokuto chuckled, the flush spread to your chest. 

        “Maybe you’re right,” he pondered. “Let’s go slower than that.” A huff, then his voice returned, excited. “All right, I got it. Think of me, all right?”

        “Kou, I already tried that.”

        “I know, baby, I know. But now you can actually hear me, and you don’t have to imagine a thing. Leave it to me.”

        You were grateful he accepted your timid silence as approval. 

        “Okay, so… think of me touching you, right? Like I’m right there in front of you, baby, and I’m just running my hands all over you-”

        “Kou?” you cut him off, blindly picking at your fingernails. 

        “What’s up? You wanna stop?”

        “Can you touch yourself too?” And it’s when he falls silent that you realize how awkward that sounded. “Ah shit, I-I mean, like, I just kinda felt awkward doing it alone and like I felt like if you were doing it too I’d feel better about it and-”

        “God, YN, you thought I wasn’t doing that already?”

        “What?” 

        He scoffs, and shame begins to sour your anticipation. 

        “The second you said you were touching yourself to the thought of me, babe, I was at it. You seriously thought I was gonna sit here and just let you play with yourself while I’m over here just listening?”

        “I mean, a little…”

        “Shit, YN. I let you tie me up once and suddenly you think I like being blue-balled.”

        “Well…”

        “It was one time!”

        “Whatever, Kou! Can we just…get back to what we were doing?”

        “Fine, fine. But we’re discussing this later.”

        “Okay, okay. Just get on with it, will you? Please, Kou, I…” you pause, body once more growing aware of the situation between your legs. “I need your help.”

        “I know, babe.” Bokuto gulps, taking a second to relax himself once more. You’re busying yourself with fiddling with the bottom of your tank top now, tempted to just lift off the damned thing along with the rest of your clothes. 

        But you’re a little curious if Bokuto would mind that.

        “All right, sweetheart. Like I said, follow my lead.”

        You hum. 

        “I want you to imagine me there, right on top of you, baby. Think of how I’d push your shirt up, how I’d run my hands up your sides. Do that to yourself for me, will you, sweetheart?”

        You listen and copy his words, running your hands underneath the cotton hem and brushing your fingertips along your hips, just as Bokuto had done so many times. 

        Well, it wasn’t perfect. But his voice certainly helped. 

        “Go up higher, baby. I want you to hold those pretty tits of yours.

        “God, I can almost feel ‘em in my hands. So soft, always wanna keep my hands there. So fuckin’ pretty.”

        “Kou…” You do as he asks, but it’s not enough. You want more, now.

        “I know, I know. But remember, sweetheart, I said we’re taking things slow tonight.”

        “But-”

        “Now touch yourself. Imagine my hands playing with those cute little nipples of yours, baby. Make ‘em all tight and perky for me.” Hesitantly, you follow his lead. Your fingers draw circles, tug and caress like how you remember he would after long days. How his hands would yank off your shirt before palming and squeezing and stroking. Some days he was really mean, and your hips shifted at the thought of the dark marks he would leave scattered along your chest. 

        “Feel good?” His voice is breathless, and you’re a little uncertain of whether that means your soft moans had somehow passed through the phone line despite how much you’d suppressed them. Though, Bokuto did like you loud. 

        “So good,” you pant, hands still toying almost torturously. “But I want more, Kou, please.”

        “Fuck, baby, I ever tell you how cute you are when you beg?”

        “Kou…”

        “Fine, fine. But you know I’d play with your pretty tits longer than that. From now on, let’s go at my pace.”

        Fuck. You knew Bokuto had a pace, but when it came to nights like these, it was slower than you’d expect. Though most nights Bokuto jumped you and kept at it like a rabbit, there were just some days where he dragged things out, usually just to hear you beg for him. An ego boost, or whatever. Like he needed it. 

        “Slowly, sweetheart, bring your hands down to your thighs and spread ‘em, nice and gentle--you know how I’d peel ‘em apart.” He broke off into a grunt. “And t-then stroke the insides of your thighs, baby.”

        “Kou?”

        “What’s up?”

        “Do,” you clench your jaw, telling yourself to get over the embarrassment by now. “-Do you want me to take my clothes off?”

        “Fuck, you still have any on? Why?”

        “Oh.” You took that as a cue to tear off your tank top and sweatpants, a little ashamed by the eagerness with which you did it. That feeling only grew when you squirmed out of your panties, catching a glimpse of the glistening stain left on them. 

        An idea hit you, and though you knew it would only make you flush more, you wanted to hear his reaction.

        “Kou?”

        “Are they off?”

        “My panties are soaked.” 

        The reaction was instant. 

        “Jesus–fuck,” Bokuto hissed under his breath. You heard something akin to skin on skin as his cursing hitched, and a strangled groan filled your ears. 

        “Fucking tease,” he rasped when he finally seemed to stop himself from going too far. There was a tension in his voice that warned you he wanted revenge. “Put both hands on that wet little pussy, sweetheart. For that, I wanna hear it.”

        Finally. The second your dominant hand made contact with your swollen clit, your hips jerked up without volition. “Sh-it.”

        “Nu-uh, YN. Keep them there. Two inside, one on your clit. Nice and slow.”

        It was hard to keep a steady, controlled pace. Your hips kept bucking, your back kept arching, and the two fingers Bokuto had ordered deep inside you weren’t reaching that little spot he seemed to have memorized like the back of his hand. 

        The lone index finger you kept circling your clit wasn’t doing your sanity any favors. The muscles of your thighs began to tremble in sheer desire of some actual force, a little muscle behind the action. 

        “YN,” Bokuto’s tone was low, warning. The second you’d sped up your hands to meet your needs, Bokuto could hear your closed-mouth whimpers growing higher. 

        “Kou, please.”

        “Hands off, baby. Completely.”

        “Wha…” you opened your mouth in protest, reluctantly pulling two soaked fingers out of your weeping hole and forcing your hand away from your clit. 

        “I told you to listen, baby. And now that’s all you get to do.”

        “Kou, what-”

        “Ahh, shit.” You slam your mouth shut, biting your lip at the delicious moans echoing through the phone. “Fuck, so good.”

        Bokuto’s strained groans come quick and in between pants. You’re positive there’s a sheen of sweat covering his forehead now, his arm flexed and taut as he strokes himself. 

        “YN, baby. ‘F-Feels so good.”

        “Kou,” you plead, gaze a little unfocused as you listen to his moans while forcing your hands to stay at your sides. You feel yourself twitching, clenching around nothing. 

        “Fuck, wish I was inside you right now.” Throaty moans now filter through the crackling line, so loud you wonder if the neighboring apartment can hear--not that they shouldn’t be used to it by now. “You’re always so fucking tight, sweetheart. Always so wet and tight on my cock.”

        “Kou please, let me-”

        “Hold on. Just a little more, baby--fffuck. Know you wanna touch yourself. Spread your legs for me, but don’t touch.”

        You peel your knees apart once more, frustrated to no longer have any friction to work with. Your hips roll desperately, but it accomplishes nothing but making you more desperate. You can feel your arousal dripping down, now, soaking into the sheets. 

        “You remember before I left, sweetheart? Remember how I fucked your pretty little brains out? Never seen you like that before, so pretty and crying over how good my cock felt inside you.”

        “Yes, Kou, yes! Please, just let me-”

        “Said you couldn’t walk the next day. Said I fucked you so good you couldn’t feel your legs, baby. You feel ‘em now? All spread apart and just fucking shaking? If I fucked you right now, sweetheart, you think you could even think straight?”

        “No, Kou, fuck I need you so bad.” You threw an arm over your eyes, the other digging into the sheets as you waited and waited for permission. 

        “You only got your fingers, and you can’t even use ‘em. All you got is me, the thought of me fucking into you, turning your pretty little brain into mush. Making you feel so good all you can do is cry. Baby, I still got those scratch marks on my back.”

        “Kou-”

        “Just a few more days, sweetheart, and I’ll have you making new ones. For now though, I suppose I could let you play with yourself.”

        You almost cried out in relief, hands darting down to your aching, sopping hole, feeling as it drenched each fingertip with ease. 

        “Three fingers inside. I know you can take it. Pretend it’s me warming you up for my cock, baby, stretching you out and having you dripping all over my fucking hand.”

        He’s right, it is a stretch, and you almost whimper when you press your fingers up and against the little pleasure center deep inside you, fingertips just barely brushing. 

        “Your little clit hurts so good, doesn’t it, baby? You’re being so mean to it aren’t you, rubbing hard circles into it.”

        He pauses, breaking off into a drawn-out groan of your name. 

        “I don’t care. Go faster.”

        And you do, and he’s right, and you just can’t bring yourself to care as you press harsh patterns into your clit, struggling to pump your fingers at the same time without losing pace completely and frustrating yourself. 

        “That’s it. Say my name, baby. Scream my name while you play with yourself. Couldn’t do that by yourself, could you?”

        “Kou--fuck!” You clench your eyes shut, arching your back harder as you speed up your desperate ministrations. Heat gathers at your clit from the friction, and your slick is practically gushing now, loud and pornographic.

        Bokuto certainly got what he wished--there was no way he couldn’t hear how wet you were. 

        “You can only touch yourself with my help, can’t you? So fucking good to me, baby. So pretty playing with your tight little hole like that. Dirty little thing.”

        “God, fffuck,” you whimper, back arching when your gushing finally reaches its peak. 

        “You coming?”

        “Y-es!”

        “I wanna hear who made you feel this good. Who made you play with your own little pussy so good, baby?”

        “Kou! Yes, Kou!”

        “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” Bokuto moans one last time, loud and guttural, and the slick of your fingers brushing and kneading your clit becomes too much. Your legs, spread wide and strained, shake with the effort as your back arches against the pillows behind you, head tossed back and mouth open in a silent gasp. 

        Bokuto soothes you on your way down, small “I love yous” and “so good for mes” traveling over the line. When your body finally stops twitching, you lean over and snag your phone, turning it off speaker and pressing it to your ear. 

        “Thank you, Kou,” you hum softly, lethargic and exhausted. “That was so much better than last night’s shit show.”

        “I’m so relieved, baby.” He pauses, humming. “And glad to know you can’t seem to come without me.”

        “Yeah, well, good thing you’re coming back soon. This was good, but…” You sit up, staring at his side of the bed, a little unkempt from you rolling over to it in your sleep night after night. “I wish you were here.”

        “I know, baby. I wish you were with me too.”

        “It’s so lonely without you.”

        “I know. I miss you.”

        “Plus I finally found out where you hid those handcuffs after that night.”

        “Goddamnit, YN, just throw those fucking things out! I’m not getting blue-balled again!”

Ya know what I love about fan fiction?

You wanna write a cliche? Go for it!

You want your story to be super angsty and way overdramatic? The more the better.

You want so much fluff it hurts? Write it!!

You wanna mix werewolves with a sitcom? Why not??

You wanna write a 300 word one shot? Cool.

You wanna write 200k+? Also cool.

You wanna write a story that’s been written a thousand times over? Do it anyway!

You wanna write something so outlandish and specific that it only has a target audience of like two people? Well, then those two people will love it.

It’s such a beautiful and nonjudgmental art. And yes, it is an art. It’s an art that is actually solely about bringing joy to you and your audience.

And I love that.

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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