He Tells You To Run During His Fight And You Get Lost (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

Kidnappers and Keepers (Todoroki x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You get kidnapped by a douchebag named “Clarence.” Nothing tops that. Well, except for your dreamboat of a soulmate. Now, he’s a keeper right there.

A/N: It’s five a.m. What is sleep. Please love this because this puppy took me ages of procrastination, but I really liked my one idea at the end of the story. I kinda wrote this backwards and on two separate days, so that could explain why it seems a little different in some parts. Please enjoy!

Word count: 3309

        Does anyone remember when Nutella was all the rage? Man, those were the good old days. It was a peaceful time. Every story on Wattpad was about a romantic kidnapping, usually involving a werewolf or two. One Direction spoke to every thirteen-year-old on a spiritual level, and all earbuds were connected to cords attached to phones. 

        It was also around the time the villain in front of you began his story. Oh wait, no, that was only twenty minutes ago. Damn, it’s crazy how time can fly some days but then crawl by slower than a slug the next. Anyways, what was this guy talking about? Oh yeah, he was monologuing his evil plan while you were stuck on the grimy floor of a dark warehouse. He had snatched you off the street as a hostage and handcuffed you behind your back to a leaking pipe, forcing you to sit and listen to him blab. What a drag. 

        “And then we will rule the world!” The villain --what was his name again?-- looked at you expectantly.

        “Huh?” He groaned in exasperation. 

        “Did you even hear a single word I said?!” 

        “No. Did you know your fly was open?” The villain, a dirt-covered twenty-something-year-old in shady, black apparel, glared at you from under the flickering light in the large room. You, on the other hand, stared at the ceiling distractedly while flicking your teeth with your tongue. Note to self: next time you get kidnapped, don’t eat popcorn that day. Stupid kernels.

        “Can’t you take anything seriously?” He jabbed, although his hands discreetly checked his pants, only to burn red when he remembered there was no zipper. You snicker under your breath. Got ‘em. “Ugh, you know what?!” He suddenly exploded, approaching you with a roll of duct tape. “I’m tired of you.” The piece he ripped off was too small to stick well to your face, but you didn’t have the energy to tell him. You poked out your tongue between your lips before his sweaty hands patted down the adhesive, sliding it up and over your top lip to remove the sticky binding from your face. He stepped away and turned his back to you, whipping out his phone.

        “Now that that’s done, where the hell are they?” the guy muttered, tapping away. You shifted uncomfortably on the cement floor, your butt growing numb. At this point, the piece of tape now dangled awkwardly from your chin. I’ve always wondered what a goatee was like. 

        “Where’s who?” you wondered. The villain whipped around to stare at you in shock.

        “How the- how did you- why are you-... what?” You raised a brow at his stammers.

        “Shoot for a bigger piece next time, fella. Or try something stronger.” You yawn before cracking your neck. “Have you considered super glue?” The door to your right suddenly crashed open. Well just barge right in, why don’t you. 

        “Clarence, did you get the girl?” Oh, now that’s just mean. Who names their child “Clarence”? You would turn to crime too if you had that name. 

        “Yes, sir.” The new guys who just joined the party were villains you had never seen before. One wasn’t even human, per se, just a dark blob surrounded by a silhouette of purple. The other was covered completely in a black cloak so you couldn’t view anything of their figure or face. Not even when they approached you with an outstretched hand. 

        “Do not be afraid, this won’t hurt a bit.” Pshh, like you were going to trust that load. Your body trembled and your feet scrambled against the floor pushing yourself back and away. Sadly, you were stopped by the pipe behind you. So this is how I die. I’ll never get to meet my soulmate. Or unlodge that stupid-ass kernel in my back tooth. “I’m not going to kill you.” Lyin’ ass. “We just need you as bait.” He had the deep voice of evil. 

        “No thanks,” you hiss. 

        “I wasn’t asking.” Could you, though? It’d be more polite. You didn’t have time to flinch away before his hand grasped your face. Like full-on palmed that bitch like a dad inspecting a melon at Walmart. What. 

        “Umm, whatcha doin’ there, budd-” before you could finish, a bright pain flashed behind your eyes. You whimpered as white noise rang in your ears, and your body began to convulse violently. Mind-control. That’s what it was. And from what you could tell, this guy had better control over your thoughts than you ever did. It felt like someone had dug their fingernails into your brain, and you abruptly spoke without your own volition. 

        “She’s under my control.” The voice scraped at your throat, but it still sounded like you. Your body stopped its spasms and froze. You were now in the passenger seat of your own body, hijacked like a computer. People and their quirks these days. Whatever happened to the classic super strength? The man released your face and stood up, stepping back to join his wispy companion while he gestured towards you. Following the action, Clarence --seriously, this poor guy-- uncuffed you from the pipe and you forcefully stood on two numb, shaky legs. 

        “We’ll use her to distract the heroes before we attack.” The cloaked man spoke, features still shadowed by his hood. 

        “How do they know to come here?” your pitiful kidnapper asked. He seemed new to this kind of job; his voice had been shaky and unsure while he nervously wrung his hands. 

        “We sent the video of you snatching her to their agency.” Poor guy became the scapegoat. But wait, the agency? Oh crap. 

        Here’s a little history lesson: before you were attacked today, you would occasionally help out at Endeavor’s Hero Agency. One day, about six or seven months ago, you had found a worker of theirs severely injured from a villain. After healing them with your quirk, you had been offered a job at the office. However, you had to deny it because, well, you were only in high school. On the other hand, ever since that day the worker stayed in touch with you, every once in a while calling you for help if anyone was ever injured on a mission. Healing them made you feel like a hero, so you didn’t stop. But now today, you were seriously regretting getting involved with them. This sucked bad. 

        “They’ll come,” the dark cloud man assured, “they value the girl.” Aww, if you were in control of your body so you could blush and smack his arm bashfully. However, right now you were pissed, and the only smacking you wanted to do was that cloak guy’s head against that moldy pipe over there. This sucks major- A noise interrupts your mental rant. It was a clang outside, like someone had kicked a trash can. Nonetheless, the villains in the room all rushed to the shadiest part of the warehouse, taking cover behind large boxes. 

                                ###

        Shouto’s words had always been… less than reassuring. 

        Sorry about earlier, I was being mind-controlled by that cloaky fella over there. My name’s YN. 

        They were even more unsettling when an agent of his father’s called him and asked if he had ever seen a “YN.” 

        “No…” 

        “Oh, well if you do, please let us know. She was kidnapped a couple hours ago, and we could really use your help right now.” Now that he thought about it, Shouto did distantly remember the name floating around the agency once or twice when he had temped there. 

        “Okay, I will.” He hung up the phone and continued down the street, hands coldly shoved in his pockets while he made his way home. The task was easy until he heard yells coming from within the abandoned warehouse next to him. What the hell?

        “Todoroki!” A familiar voice shouted from behind him. The bicolored man slowly turned to see two of his classmates approaching, one waving erratically at him.

        “What are you doing out here?” Midoriya asked. 

        “I just felt like walking around. What about you?” More shouts came from inside the building next to them just as the green-haired boy was about to respond. 

        “What was that?” Iida stares curiously into the alleyway, eyes catching on a shady-looking door that led into the warehouse. “We must check it out,” the class rep declares before approaching the entrance. The other two follow him with furrowed brows, both concerned and unsure at the same time. A loud noise rattles from within the alleyway. 

        “Sorry.” Midoriya shyly steps away from a metal trash can and inches it away with his foot. The can’s cover falls off with the movement and crashes onto the ground. Midoriya’s face is not unlike a traffic signal at this point, glowing bright red. 

        Iida shakes his head before pushing open the doorway, entering the dim, moldy stash house.

                                ###

        What was that one sentence that has like all the letters in the English alphabet in it? It was about a fox and a dog… whatever. You were bored. And technically mindless. Sort of. You couldn’t do or say anything when three boys your age entered the nasty ass room you were in, and your heart couldn’t even skip a beat when your eyes landed on that one dreamboat. Do you think he purposely dyes his hair like that? I dig it.

        “...you YN?” Oh crap, you missed like half of that, sorry dreamboat. 

        “Yeah, but you guys are too late. The villains left that way, through the window over there.” The two-toned hair man glanced down at his wrist with confused eyes in your peripheral vision, but the villain controlling your body made no note. Then he gestured to his friends to follow him to the boxes. Dumbass dreamboat. 

        It was like watching a horror movie. The audience already knew where the murderers were, but the attractive protagonists- they’re always attractive. No ugly person ever gets hunted down, and that’s a fact- just can’t hear your annoyed screaming at the TV. 

        They’re hiding behind the- dammit. The whole room just got ten times more rowdy, and suddenly you were in control of your own body again. Must be how Cloak Man’s quirk works. Can’t fight and mind-control at the same time. At least God is fair. 

        Grunts, exclamations and whooshes all sound behind you while you huddle in a corner, shaking and hugging yourself until the fighting ends. 

        “Here, call my father and tell him to come!” It’s the pretty boy, and your eyes widen at his words before a phone slides on the ground over to you. He returns to the battle in hand-to-hand combat with Clarence, who doesn’t put up much of a fight after your soulmate-- holy shit-- turns one arm into a popsicle and the other into a flaming torch. Hot damn. Hehe, I’m funny- not the time YN! You shake yourself out of it and scramble to the phone, glancing back up to watch the fight while pressing the call button on the open contact. A wave of heat fills the room as your soulmate uses his quirk to roast that one cloaked bastard, and you curl even further into the dusty half of the warehouse you’re hiding in.

        “Pick up, pick up, pick up- hello?” The person you called is breathing heavily over the line. 

        “This isn’t Shouto, who is this?” It sounds vaguely familiar, but you don’t take the time to mull over the fact.

        “This is YN YLN and I’m in a warehouse off the main street in town. We could really use some cops or something over here!” 

        “YN? Shouto found you?” Aww, your soulmate told his father about you, how cute!

        “Yes, please hurry!” A sudden flame flashes directly in front of you, almost singeing your eyebrows away. The phone flies out of your hand- no idea how that happened- while you scream in terror, and your soulmate shouts back a “Sorry!”

        “Sorry my ass,” you grumble before army-crawling back over to his yeeted technology. The screen is cracked and dark. Now it was your turn for a half-assed apology, but “Shouto” seemed rather occupied at the moment. Speaking of him, you look back down at your soulmark and run your trembling fingers over the words. When you first got them, you thought you were destined to be with a dada’s boy. You predicted you would meet him in the park and he would throw a phone at you, too nervous to be alone without his father while he squealed out those words. 

        So, even though your current situation was less than desirable, you were kinda thankful. At least he needed you to call his dad for a badass reason, and not an excited, “gotta show my dad this” reason. 

        The door next to you slammed open and you screamed in fright once more, only to pause at the sight. Endeavor? Ohhh. The hot quirk your soulmate had suddenly made a million times more sense. The pro-hero wasn’t alone, and he stormed in with numerous other agents to take out your kidnappers. 

        The dark blob man disappeared into thin air when they entered the room, leaving his two villain friends to get restrained and captured by the new heroes. My guy fucking dipped. Candy-ass. 

        Hesitantly, you stood and approached your soulmate. He was watching Clarence and Cloak Man get tied up when you tapped his shoulder, gaining his attention instantly. You began to rub your own fingers together when he made eye-contact with you, and fended off the urge to touch the mark on his face. Just as you open your mouth to speak, your mind goes blank. Wow, so not helpful. Your soulmate raises his eyebrows at you, waiting patiently while you awkwardly bite your lip and clear your throat. After that, the words crawl their way right out of you.

        “Sorry about earlier, I was being mind-controlled by that cloaky fella over there. My name’s YN.” 

        Shouto is silent for a second while one hand swiftly covers the wrist of the other. Maybe it had burned for you earlier, but you had been too distracted to- Oh hello there. Yep, that’s a’ tingling all right. You copy his action and hiss at the feeling. It wasn’t unpleasant, but a sudden hotness on your wrist tends to freak you out once in a while. 

        “My name is Shouto Todoroki. It’s nice to meet you.” Oh god, he was adorable. Like an adorable, little well-behaved puppy. You were totally going to ruin that pleasantness for him one day. He’s just gonna walk in on you cussing out your own foot and it’ll go shjoop right out of him.

        “You too,” you mumble distractedly. “Or me too! Or… umm, yes, it’s nice to meet you too.” Ok, YN, what the hell was that? “Anyways…” This is a deesaster. “I have a quirk.” Yep, it’s over.

        “Okay....” He looks thoroughly confused. He might want to get used to that feeling around you. “Me too, I guess?” You want to smack yourself upside the head.

        “I’m sorry. I said that weird. Actually, I didn’t even say it.” He looks so lost. “I have a healing quirk, and you just got into a fight.” There we go, now you got him. He nods his head understandingly. 

        “Oh okay, so you’re offering to heal me.” Great job, Watson.

        “Yeah.” Your cheeks are so red at this point that they hurt. He holds out his scraped hands towards you and gives you a gentle smile. 

        “Work your magic.”

                                ###

        “We could use someone like you at UA.”

        After you had healed his wounds the first day you met, Shouto encouraged you to talk to the admissions office there. He had even asked his dad to recommend they give you a spot, and it worked. You didn’t know how, but you just counted your blessings and moved on.

        Now, you sat as a student assistant to Recovery Girl, with your very own dorm and everything. You attended the normal classes UA offered and worked during lunch and after school with the nurse to heal the injured and sick. It was usually the injured, and it was usually Shouto’s friend Midoriya. At a certain point, you didn’t care to ask what he had done, you just healed him and sent him on his way.

        “There you go, greeny.” You patted his freshly healed arm. “Now if you would stop hurting yourself, I really wouldn’t mind.” Your eyes strayed from his worn-out form to the new one, leaning in the doorway with crossed arms. Dreamboat.

        “I know, YN, I want that too. Thanks again, though!” The hero-in-training cheered right up at the prospect of getting to leave and bid you adieu, greeting Todoroki before disappearing into the hall. 

        “Hi.” Your soulmate stepped into the room with a soft smile, laying a kiss on your cheek before sitting in the patient’s bed across from your spinny chair. 

        “Well, hello to you too.” You beam at him with curious eyes. “You seem more chipper than usual, what’s up?” 

        “I just... really wanted to see you,” he admits apprehensively, staring at the posters on Recovery Girl’s walls to avoid looking at you. Your chest preens with happiness and you stand up to join him on the bed.

        “I wanted to see you too.” You slump down next to him and lay your head on his shoulder, intertwining your fingers with his own on your lap. The room stays silent while you both bask in the warmth of each other’s presence, but Todoroki surprisingly decides to break the silence.

        “So,” he pulls his head off yours and turns to face you, “have you come up with a hero name yet?” Your body begins to wiggle excitedly and you whirl around to face him, now sitting crossed-legged on the bed and bouncing your knees up and down anxiously.

        “Yes I did!” His eyes sparkle at your excitement and he laughs softly. 

        “Well?”

        “Say hello to… wait for it,” he rolls his eyes at your actions while you drumroll against your own thighs, “Health Girl!” 

        Todoroki grows apprehensive and his smile falls slightly. Your own face grows smug and you poke him in the side playfully. “I’m just kidding, I’m not that lame.”

        “You sure?” Your eyes widen. He has a sarcasm button now?

        “Woah, mister, you’re learning too much from me. You might wanna stop that before you start yelling at your phone for dropping itself.” (Yeah, that’s happened before. But to be fair, your phone was a dumbass bitch.) 

        Your heart glows with pride when he releases a small, rare chuckle. The Shuckle. Damn, you must be really special to get that treatment. Well you better be, with all that ‘soulmates for life’ crap dangling over your head.

        “No really, I actually did come up with a good name.” 

        “All right, tell me.” 

        Here’s the thing, your quirk wasn’t exactly healing people, it was more of speeding up their own body’s cellular processes when you got close enough. So you had the perfect name. At least, you hoped you did. Oh crap, what if it was terrible?

        “What about... ‘Enzyma’?” you suggest nervously, staring down into your lap and rubbing your fingers against each other. Arms wrap themselves around your hips and tug you closer to their owner as a pair of lips press against your forehead. Todoroki stares lovingly into your eyes after your own arms reach up to wrap around his neck, melting into his embrace. 

        “It’s perfect.” 

        So was he.

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

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

Ps I’m glad you liked it!

So I have a request can you write how Kenma Kageyama Nishinoya and Atsumu would react to their s/o randomly telling them to spread their legs cause she wants to put their head on their stomach 🥺👉🏾👈🏾 please and thank you 🙏🏾

“Spread Your Legs”... to Cuddle (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Slight warning guys, I haven’t watched season four. Aka, Atsumu is maybe OOC. Aka aka, I have no idea how tf he acts. I tried tho, I swear. Also, dear requester, with my dirty mind, I sincerely hope I took your request the right way, and hope you weren’t completely looking for innocent fluff. With love, this dirty-minded author. Anyway, hope you like it! (Oh fuck, I just reread your request, I am so sorry (I saw “randomly” and went off). But I promise some of it is fluffy!! you know... some of it.)

Word count: 1116

Kozume Kenma: 

I'm just gonna start out by saying this is Kenma we’re talking about.

If you ask him for something romantic, he’s obligated to say “fuck no.”

Like seriously, you just gotta sneak attack this dude, cuz straight up asking him isn’t gonna work.

… okay maybe just this once.

“Hey Kenma, can you spread your legs?”

He gives you a weird look, then returns to playing his game. “No.”

I told you so.

So anyways, you just, you know, spread his legs.

He’s laying on the couch so one of them dangles off, and you just kinda slither between and snuggle up to his lap. 

As you do so, he takes in a quick breath and avoids your gaze, keeping his eyes locked on the screen with maximum effort. 

You lay your head on his stomach and smile against him, enjoying the heat after a cold day.

“You’re really warm.” You press a kiss to his stomach and he tenses up.

“Y-you should’ve told me this is what you were going to do.”

“Would you have let me do it?”

“...” 

He just purses his lips and relaxes his game on top of your head.

“Do you want me to stop?” You set your chin on his stomach and peer up at him innocently.

He flushes and rolls his eyes. “...no.”

Kageyama Tobio: 

You’re playing with fire with this one. But like… fake fire that doesn’t burn when you touch it, you feel me?

… Anyways, this guy is very, very concerned at first.

“Tobio, can you spread your legs for me?” 

It’s one of the few days he’s invited you over (more like you invited yourself), and when you popped into his room, he’s already relaxing in bed.

When he hears those words, steam practically blows from his ears.

“W-WHAT?!”

You love to tease him of course, and any other day, you would’ve done so, but…

Fuck it, who am I kidding, you’re totally gonna tease him. 

You step closer to his bed where he’s got one leg crossed over the other and he flinches when you run your hands up his lower legs. 

“Just spread your legs for me, baby.” 

“Y-YN, you don’t have to do this.” 

“Don’t be so nervous, Tobio. I want to.”

Hesitantly, he allows you to settle your hands on his kneecaps and pull his legs apart. 

You slide up onto the bed and slink your way in between his legs, giving him a reassuring smile. 

Then you plop down in the middle of his thighs and rest your head on his stomach with a relieved sigh. 

“Mmm, thanks for letting me do this, Tobio.”

He’s silently oblivious for a moment. (Lowkey thinking “is this how it’s supposed to be done the first time?”)

Then he slowly sets his hands in your hair and combs through it with trembling fingers. 

“S-sure.” 

Don’t worry, later you showed him how it’s done ;)

… meaning you let him lay his head on your stomach then. Geez, get ur head outta the gutter, guys. 

Nishinoya Yuu: 

SPEAKING OF PERVERTS

Just kidding, this strong boi treats you like a queen. 

“Spread your legs, Yuu.”

“Oh, FUCK YEAH!” 

Except for that. You can only giggle when he spreads his legs wide instantly, relaxing a hand behind his head while the other rests on his chest.

With a grin, you clamber onto the bed and slip between his legs, resting your head on his stomach. 

Nishinoya instantly combs his free hand through your hair while you hum in delight against him.

‘Cause you guys do this all the time. Because this is how you cuddle. 

He loves feeling like he’s taking care of you, and this is just one of the many ways he does. 

When you ask him to spread his legs, he knows it’s because you’re cold and want snuggles, and this tiny boy absolutely loves to provide for you. 

Once, when you tried to move after he had fallen asleep, his legs literally wrapped around you and trapped you against his chest. It was warm tho, so you couldn’t complain.

Anytime, whenever you’re watching a movie or just plain old taking a nap, he loves the feeling of you between his legs. 

If it’s a scary movie or you’re having a nightmare and you whimper into his chest, he’ll just coo and massage your scalp until you calm down. We’re talking hairdresser-level scalp massages. 

Noya is good with his hands, it’s confirmed.

As I said before, he loves to take care of you, and you asking him to spread his legs isn’t an uncommon occurrence whenever you two hang out. 

Now this doesn’t mean he doesn’t get a little too excited sometimes...

Miya Atsumu:

First of all, y’all are just laying in the grass courtyard studying.

Well, you’re studying. He’s just basking in the sun and trying to fuck with you in any way he can. 

When you finish (or more like give up) your studying is when you ask order him.

“Spread your legs.”

His brow raises oH fUcK, then he does that lil smirk.

“Oh really? Here? YN, you naughty girl.”

You’re dead tired. “Shut up perv, I just wanna cuddle.”

“What if I wanna do more than cuddle?” *waggles eyebrows*

“Suffer.” 

You spread his legs apart and he silently inhales, trying not to choke on air. 

When you crawl up between his thighs, he tenses up and the smirk on his face falters a bit. 

Then you rest your cheek on his stomach and wrap your arms around him like a teddy bear and he’s like “oh.”

There’s not really much he can do. He doesn’t wanna push you off bc nO but he also wants to keep up his suave, self-controlled appearance. 

But that’s not how biology works.

His hands settle into your hair and he’s hoping if you fall asleep fast enough, you won’t notice. So he starts brushing through your tangled strands and holding you closer to keep you warm.

I mean, you were really tired after studying, right?

Wrong.

“Atsumuuuu.”

“Sorry babe, but this is mostly your fault, just sayin.”

Yeah so um, next time you wanna lay on his stomach, just kinda say it, cuz this boy is all about gettin’ it onnn.

You’re too pure for him to handle

I totally agree there needs to be more YANDERE! Daichi and YANDERE! Suga x Reader like ?!?!??! IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES AKDKAJFKSNJFDJ I practically screamed when I realized the plot twist literally went like "GENIUS!!! FUCKING GENIUS"

Afsjhkakdkd sameeeee

I’m just thinking about the cuddles from these bois and they got me kinda ✨funny✨

Nah but really, just imagine when they get jealous.

If it’s soft yandere, you’re just talking to a boy and daichi slips between you and him, making up an excuse or threatening him that if he ever talks to you again, he’ll [REDACTED]. Meanwhile, suga’s just dragging you away with a pout. “I can’t believe you were talking to that boy. What if he tried something on you? We would never forgive ourselves for letting something like that happen.” Daichi comes jogging after you later and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Sugawara moving accordingly and winding an arm around your waist. They’re almost suffocating with all the heat, but they don’t seem to mind one bit. “Sorry if you don’t like it, baby, but we just get a little jealous when you’re around other guys, that’s all.”

If it’s hard yandere, once again you’re talking to another boy. You’re laughing, he’s laughing, then suddenly your being slammed against the nearest wall with an eyeful of pissed Sugawara. You hear grunts, and with fearful eyes you peer over his shoulder to see daichi slamming his fist against the boy’s jaw, kicking and beating and pounding on the guy in any way possible. Suddenly your chin is tugged back to face Suga head on, reluctantly meeting his furious gaze. “Look what happens when you talk to other boys yn.” Every scream of pain from over his shoulder rips a wave of fear through you, leaving you trembling in his hands. “We get jealous, and you really shouldn’t do that to us, should you?” You don’t respond for a second, and Suga grips your chin bruisingly tight. “Should you?” It hurts, so so bad. Bad enough that you hastily nod and whimper in relief when he releases you. “Good,” his rough hand returns to your body, this time latched onto your wrist. “We’re going home.” With one large yank, you’re stumbling after him, but he stops to call out to his partner in crime. “Daichi.” “Hmm?” “Our dear little yn needs a lesson on not talking to other boys. Obviously, we need to teach her that she’s only ours again. You comin’?” Daichi’s mouth curls into a smirk. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He rises off the boy and steps over to join you, leaving behind what somehow was a body lying in a puddle of blood. His hand was soaked as he captured your own, forcefully intertwining your fingers with his. “Bad girls like you deserve to be punished yn. Don’t try to cry your way out of it this time. Our darling needs to learn the only place she belongs is by our side.”

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: nothin’ much to say, except I like writing with an accent for Atsumu. That shit’s bomb. Enjoy!

Word count: 2339

Tetsurou Kuroo:

“Hey YN,”

He starts off so strong. His voice has that ever present lilt in it, like he’s trying to bait you closer. 

“I-” he breaks off into a breathless, short laugh, “-I’m not really sure why I called… I guess I was hoping to catch you before I went to practice but…”

He swallows, and you can almost imagine him rubbing the back of his neck. “But I guess I missed you. I mean–not like that.” He sputters. “Not that I don’t miss you! I do! I-”

Kuroo pauses, a bitter chuckle traveling through the phone. “God, I’m a fucking wreck. Did you know that? I’m a fucking trainwreck after us, and I can’t even pinpoint why.”

There’s shuffles in the background before the phone thumps, and Kuroo’s voice is distant but still audible. You figure he’s put you on speaker for whatever reason while finding a seat somewhere. He huffs as he settles in. 

“Sometimes I think it’s because of the way we ended things.” He sighs, tone growing thick like his throat is stuck with something. “I yelled at you, so loudly, and I’ll never forget that look on your face when you left. I relive it every night, you know that? Asking myself what I could have done better and whatnot.” A loud hiss, like he’s sucking on his bottom lip harshly. “What I could have said or done to make you stay.”

“And then it’s not even the breakup that I can’t stop thinking about. It’s those moments we used to have, those goddamn memories I’ve got seared in the back of my brain that I have to repress when someone even spins a goddamn pencil like you did.”

Another thump, and suddenly his voice is much louder than before, the phone pressed back against his ear. “That pillow, you know the one that’s got your perfume all fucking over it. I tried to throw it away yesterday.” He scoffs. “And that failed. So I woke up fucking cuddling it this morning, as if I didn’t already feel like a loser.”

“And I know you still have my sweatshirt,” he inhales then exhales deeply. “I don’t want it back. I can’t–please don’t give it back, I don’t want it. Consider it yours, or whatever. Maybe you’ve already gotten rid of it, I don’t know.” So wobbly. His voice has slowly grown shaky over the last few seconds. “Whatever.”

A long pause drags out for at least a minute, and the only thing that stops you from checking if he’s still on call is the short breaths that are barely audible. 

“Just,” he finally breaks the silence, voice cracking. “Please, I gotta know. For my sanity, please, do you miss me?... Miss us?”

“‘Cause God YN I miss every second of us.”

“One of the guys yesterday asked me what happened between us. I don’t even know why, I just got so mad so quick I wanted to sock him in the face for even bringing you up.” A quiet slap against his skin, like he’s brought up his hand to run it down his face. “I just… I had spent all day trying to keep you out of my head. I saw you in the halls that morning, but I know you didn’t see me–you had your head down reading that fucking book you love so much–and for the rest of the goddamn day I tried to keep you out of my head. And then he brought you up, and I just… God, I don’t even know, I just fucking lost it.”

“The coach sent me home after that, said I needed to clear my head. Not that it worked, ‘cause look where I am now.” He released a self-deprecating laugh.

“Sitting on the damned school steps all over again, crying like an idiot for who knows how long.”

A voice, distant and hesitant, calls out to him. “Kuroo.” It’s Kenma.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m coming, just give me a sec.” But he’s quiet all over again, maybe deep in thought.

But then you hear a ruffling of clothes and a small sniff. Kuroo clears his throat. “I-I have to go. I’ll… just–call me back. Please. I wanna hear your voice, I-... I miss your voice.”

Silence.

“I miss you.”

“I love you.”

Then he hangs up.

Wakatoshi Ushijima:

“YN.” As usual, his tone is deadpan and succinct. If he’s calling you, there’s a reason for it. 

“You’ve left some clothing at my house. Please let me know when you have time to pick it up. I’ll have it prepared for you.”

“There are also the gifts you’ve given me there as well. I don’t know if you want those back or not, so please let me know before your arrival so I can get those packed up as well.”

“Regarding the gifts I’ve given you, you can keep them. I will not be needing them back.”

“If... if you have the time, I would also like to talk to you. I feel we have some things to discuss regarding our breakup.” The line falls silent, but when you pull the phone back, the voicemail still says it has five minutes left.

“I do not like the way we ended things,” he speaks up after a minute has passed. “It was… you’re wrong. You were wrong.”

“You said I didn’t care about you, but you’re wrong. I do. You said I never think about you, never spare you any thoughts, but you’re wrong.”

“The truth is, I hate how distracting you are. I find it hard to focus on practice now. In games, I feel myself losing my edge. You’re always just there. My mind is always on you. So much that I don’t know how to stop it.”

“So when you said I never cared about you… I was frustrated at how wrong you were.” A scraping is heard, dull and barely audible. He’s gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw in what you’ve always recognized as a hint of his growing irritation. 

“How you can take over my mind and still say that I don’t ever spare you a minute of my time, it angers me. You’ve taken so much away from me, and then you go and say that I haven’t given you enough…”

“It’s not fair. I don’t accept it.”

“Tell me, YN. Have I taken over your thoughts the way you’ve taken over mine? Do I have you as wrapped around my finger as you do me?”

“Or have I just become one of those lovesick fools I’ve always despised, chasing after something they can never have?”

“I deserve to know, YN. You owe me that much.” There’s such certainty in his tone. It’s impossible to think of his words as anything else other than absolute truth. Speaking through your phone was a man not only desperately heartbroken, but also completely, utterly confused. To draw such an emotion out of a man like Ushijima…

“Tomorrow, before school, I will find you.” His words held no threat, softly spoken so as to only sound like a promise. “I want you to be honest with me tomorrow, so I can have some semblance of closure.” 

Once more he’s gone silent, as if waiting for your response. Every breath he takes now comes out as a huff more than an exhale. He’s so wound up by now you’re almost positive this attitude will drag on until your conversation tomorrow. 

“It’s what I deserve, YN. You can’t take away from me the one thing my mind has run on for months now and expect me not to want answers.” There’s a squeal of a chair against tile flooring, and a beat later you hear the rustling of clothes as he takes a seat.

“What more you want from me, I’m not quite sure. Yet, somehow, I still feel myself yearning to give it to you.”

“Tell me, YN, is that fair? You’ve taken yourself out of my life, and I still feel as though I’d do anything for you. Give anything for you.”

“At the very least, I must know if my actions were not in vain; if you feel my absence even a little bit in comparison to the hole you’ve left in me.”

“Did you really love me? You said it before you left that night, but if you did, then I don’t understand why you left. I need you to enlighten me, YN. I just don’t understand.”

A pause. “Goodbye, YN. I look forward to our talk tomorrow.”

Atsumu Miya:

“YNNN!” The shout of your name is so loud you yank the phone away from your ear in shock.

Hesitantly, you draw it closer when everything quiets down again. 

“Oh God, someone grab his phone!”

“Atsumu, hand it over now!”

“He’s calling her, isn’t he? Dumbass.”

However remote, you can still hear the groans of your ex’s teammates along with the dull thumping and buzzing of far-off music. You figure he had been at a friend’s house or maybe even a club, and he’d probably locked himself up somewhere like the bathroom with his phone in tow. 

There’s a slam, then a click followed by the muffled shouts of the voices you’d heard earlier. Then a gulp as Atsumu downs the rest of whatever alcoholic drink he somehow got his hands on before calling you.

“YN, how dare you!” Accusatory, and extremely slurred. He’s drunk off his ass, and his accent is so thick you struggle a bit to understand him. “Yer such a meanie for breakin’ my heart like that, darlin’!”

“All I ever wanted was to love you an’ give you the world; why’d ya hafta go an’ take it all away from me?”

Another gulp, and now he’s sniffling. “I just… I just don’t know why you did it. It was gonna be us two forever, darlin’. You said you’d never leave me. Why did ya have to…?”

“I know it’s hard for you to be alone for all that time, darlin’, an’ I ain’t gonna act like I never saw how you felt. But you said you could do it–you promised that ya'd do it for me.”

“What happened to all those promises? You said you loved me so many times, and now every time I think about you sayin’ those words, it hurts so bad. I know I’m gonna regret this later, I ain’t stupid, but I want you ta know that I’m broken now, darlin’, and it’s because a’ you.”

“The nights are so unbearable, YN. I can’t stand ‘em. You wouldn’t believe how cold that bed is without you in it. And yer fuckin’ pillow–goddamnit that thing–so many times now I thought a’ just throwin’ it out rather than smell it for one more second. That fuckin’ perfume ya always wear is just everywhere on that bed though, so I say to myself, ‘What’s the point? It’s still there no matter what I do.’ And do ya know what’s really sad?”

The slurring, the wobbling, the stuttering. At this point, he’s an incomprehensible mess. Long ago you’d heard a concerning bang, but that bang had caused the end of his unsteady footsteps so you figured he’d finally just collapsed to the ground. 

“Two days ago I took down all the pictures we got hung up all over the apartment. Every single one I took down and put ‘em all in a li’l pile on the couch. An’ on the coffee table I had this stupid trash bag, and I had this fuckin’ lighter in my hand. For an hour, I sat there, lookin’ at the first damned picture I took from that pile. The stupid lighter ran outta gas ‘bout halfway through, and I still didn’t put the picture down. It was like I was stuck lookin’ at us, at how good we were. So many times I asked myself what the hell went so wrong that you up and left me outta the blue.” A choked up laugh snuck through the speaker. “It was that picture of us when we graduated. I was holdin’ you in my arms and you were smilin’ and hangin’ onto me so tight and—fuck-” Atsumu broke off in a breathless whimper, a muted sob slipping through. 

After about a minute of silent weeping, he cleared his throat, though it was scratchy rough when he spoke again. “All those pictures–they’re back up on the wall, darlin’. Never did nothin’ with ‘em, never hid ‘em away.”

“I just… I just don’t wanna get rid of ‘em. And ya wanna know why? It’s the most pitiful thing yer ever gonna hear.” He heaves a shaky sigh. “It’s ‘cuz I keep hopin’ one a’ these days yer gonna show back up at our door, that li’l look of confusion on yer face when ya see I got rid a’ all our pictures together, and then you’ll get all sad and pouty and beg me to dig ‘em outta the trash for ya.”

“I’d do it. Ya know I would. I’d do anything for you.”

“S-so can you come back, darlin’? Please?”

“‘Cuz I need you, bad. I can’t stand it anymore.”

“That damned house is too quiet without you singin’ and dancin’ all over it. An’ I can’t ever figure out where you got those scented candles from–the ones that smell like yer perfume. I can’t find ‘em, and the ones you left behind, they’re all burnt out. All used up.”

“I miss you, darlin’. Fuck, I can’t stand another second without you.”

“Please, just come back to me. I need you.”

And in the background his friends have finally jimmied the door open. There’s a strangled cry as one of them tackles Atsumu to the ground, ripping the phone from his grasp. “Fuck, guys, look, he is calling her.”

“Oh, ‘Tsumu…”

And the call ends.

I want this job

hahahaha just watched top gun: maverick and have begun preparing for my rooster phase

welp guess I’m into mustaches now

THAT FUCKING PLOT TWIST. COP DAICHI IS ALSO YOU'RE YANDERE?! WELL SSHIIIITTTTTT THEM HANDCUFFS ARE ABOUT TO BE PUT TO USEEEEEEEEEEEE

RIGHT?? LIKE GODDAMN🥵 there needs to be more yandere of those two w one darling istg

Side note: don’t be surprised if you catch me thirstin’ on daichi/suga x readers bro. Those two plus yn = the unholy trilogy of fuck me up, daddy

Hey! It’s the anon that requested for the yandere!garou headcanons, I just want to say that I’m so happy that you took time to write my request and I really love it, it’s so cute my heart just went 💓💖. But I was wondering if you could do something a little darker for him because I kinda wanna see how he is when he is a little more darker.

The Gift-Giver (Yandere Garou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Belts, tank tops, even a metal bat. All these “gifts” from the Hero Hunter’s fights on the news keep showing up at your doorstep. Today, you expected no different, except it is; an empty suitcase is there, and the white-haired man in your bedroom wants you to pack up for your new home. 

A/N: Aight my dude. Here’s the request you actually ordered lol. I’m such a freaking simp for this guy that I can’t hold back my uwus, but I rly hope this one is better suited for what you wanted. Enjoy! (Don’t mind me, I’m just gonna rename the other one now 😐) (Also: Thanks for 1.1k followers!)

Word count: 2941

        The first was a black belt.

       Laid peacefully upon your doorstep, it stunk of drying sweat and metallic blood. It was the first gift of many that you hid inside a closet of your house on the outskirts of City S.

        That’s what you liked to call them-- gifts. The name was much more appealing than what they actually were. And they never stopped coming either. 

        Tank tops, a magician’s hat, even a slingshot. The most recent? A metal bat. Each and every one of them greeted you on your return home from work like a message. 

        “I was here.”

        You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly who these objects belonged to. Reports on the news had clued you in that your biweekly Santa Claus was the Hero Hunter. But what could you do, call the police? Yeah, how innocent you would look with armloads of beaten-up heroes’ possessions. 

        Tonight was the night marked on your mental calendar. A new gift would arrive on your doorstep like every other Monday and Friday. 

        An oncoming headache took full-force as you jerked your car into park. 

        Here we go.

        With a deep breath and a massage of your temples, you pushed out of your car and slammed the door shut. Eyes were watching you, watching every step you took as you approached your doorway. The feeling wasn’t new and it didn’t shock you either. 

        No. What did shock you was tonight’s gift. You had gotten off work late today, so in the darkness of what was eight o’clock at night, you could only see the outline. 

        It was huge.

        It wasn’t a sword or another tank top. It wasn’t a fake dog tail or even a hero’s cape. No, not at all, because today’s offering to you was a suitcase. 

        Right off the bat, you expected a body. It wasn’t long ago that your stalker had apparently fought a hero without a signature outfit and had settled for gifting you with his disembodied limb. 

        You buried the hand in your backyard and prayed to God that no dogs would go sniffing. 

        So as your heels clicked up your home’s steps, you plugged your nose and held back tears as you opened your door. “No, no, no, please no.”

        What truly surprised you was that the suitcase was empty. No bodies or body parts, no fingers hidden in zipper pockets, no nothing. 

        Clicking on your living room light, you set down your bag and keys on the side table before locking the door behind you and continuing your inspection alone. Even in the artificial glow of the TV you always turned on to make your house feel more alive, you couldn’t see anything but the slippery, plastic material of its interior. 

        Part of you was suspicious, but the rest of you just wanted to thank God that your stalker hadn’t been as barbaric tonight. 

        “Thank fuck,” you hissed as you lugged the suitcase upstairs. Of course, you would still hide it in the closet across from your bedroom, but you were just glad it would seem less suspicious compared to the rest of the paraphernalia you had gathered. 

        After making your way up the stairs, you glanced into your bedroom on your way to the closet. A small glance, simple and unexpecting. 

        You should have expected it.

        There, standing in your bedroom with your ceiling light on was a man. Muscles you didn’t even know existed were defined through his tight, black long sleeve shirt while the rest remained hidden in loose-fitted sweatpants. White hair stood up at attention on his head, parted in two directions with a split in the middle while his eyes were half-lidded as he fiddled with something on your bed. The spheres of gold weren’t even watching you and their piercing gaze made you want to curl in on yourself and disappear. 

        “Welcome home, Angel. How was work?” His voice was deep and much too casual for a stranger, especially one that had broken in to your house. 

        You were speechless. Nothing, not even a whimper could escape your closed-up throat. Your whole body had frozen in fear while you watched him, suitcase still sat on the floor of the hall with the handle in your palm. 

        “Wha…” Your mouth moved, but really nothing worth hearing was coming out of it. 

        The man, the Hero Hunter, only trailed his gaze up to you for a second before dragging it back down to the bed, a single eyebrow raising. The corner of his thin lips curled up into a smirk. 

        “Speechless, huh? I’m not surprised, though I am disappointed in how naughty you dress when I’m not around.” His tone dipped in disgust as his long fingers finally stopped picking at the colors on your mattress. Then he lifted a hand, your panties dangling off a single index finger while he growled. 

        “Red lace. Who were you planning on showing these to, Angel?” 

        Fear spiked through your heart at his dangerous lilt. His tongue had spat the words at you like poison, but you still felt glued to the floor. 

        Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t move. Surely this couldn’t be real. 

        When he made his way for you, though, you knew it was only wishful thinking. Hand outstretched, you were almost certain he was going to strangle the life out of you thanks to the look in his glowing eyes, but he only used one abnormally sharp nail to lift your chin. 

        “The only one you’ll be wearing these for is me now, understood?” 

        “Who are you?” you finally choked out, lungs practically gasping for air as you held your breath in fear. “W-what do you want?”

        Evidently, the second question was much more hilarious than the first, as he let out a chiding snicker. “Oh, my sweet angel,” he shook his head. “My name is Garou, and I want you.” 

        Apparently he could see your eyes widen in horror, as he tsked while thumbing over your cheek. “You don’t need to be afraid, YN. I’ll take care of you now. All I ask of you is that you listen.” The word is partnered with a squeeze of the skin below your chin, daringly close to your throat. 

        “O-okay.” What else could you do but stutteringly agree? This man had a strength in his body that flimsily held back a wrath you received the after-effects of, and you had a whole closet to prove it. 

        Your submission makes him grin, leaving your stomach churning. “Good,” he pressed a searing kiss to your forehead that makes you want to rub away the skin. “Now start packing. I got you a suitcase and everything, my Angel. You’re gonna love your new home.” 

        You don’t respond this time, only settling for a nod as he pats your head like a good little pet and leaves the room. 

        He was gone. Garou had finally left you alone, but you still felt the scorching burn of his touch. The look in his eyes had been so greedy you weren’t surprised he didn’t take advantage of your panicked silence to explore. 

        It seemed, though, that he had already done some exploring of the sort, as your room was an absolute mess. Clothing was strewn everywhere, the more revealing of which had been clawed to shreds, no doubt from Garou’s razor-edged talons. With a small look in the mirror on your wall, you could see his own pricking under your chin had sprouted a dribble of blood. 

        Oh God.

        It was only now that you had a moment alone that the realization settled in. 

        Oh God.

        Oh shit! Oh fuck! FUCK FUCK FUCK!

        How could you get out of this?!

        Your bedroom window? 

        No, YN, what are you, insane?! This isn’t a movie, and you couldn’t run away from a man like that after a second story fall. 

        Maybe you could slip past him downstairs? Escape through the back door? 

        No. Once again, you didn’t have the speed or the stamina to outrun him. What you needed was a distraction. 

        Maybe you could start a fire. But your lighter for your living room chimney was downstairs. Overflow the tub? No, that would take ages and would not even phase him. 

        Then the perfect idea hit you. Your phone.

        It was still in your pocket from when you had checked it while walking into your house with the suitcase and used it’s flashlight for the inspection. 

        And now you could use it as the best distraction of all. 

        Calling the cops and telling them the Hero Hunter was here. That could bring on so much trouble for Garou while you slipped away and hid until he would finally be taken into custody. It was perfect! 

        Your fingers still trembled from the shock of it all. A man just a floor below you was trying to kidnap you and do God knows what else after that task was accomplished. 

        The beeps from every button you dialed almost echoed throughout the room. You were certain Garou could hear them, but by the time you tried to silence it more, the call picked up. 

        The same line as usual sounded, then “what is your emergency?”

        “Please help me, someone broke into my house and is trying to kidnap me.” A rather lame explanation, but in the heat of the moment, there was really no other way to put it. 

        After giving them your address, you hung up and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pounding in your heart. 

        I’ll be okay. They can save me. I just have to stall for a few minutes.

        It had completely slipped your mind that you never told them it was the Hero Hunter in your home. 

                                ***

        The suitcase was packed. 

        Your door had creaked a few minutes ago, signalling Garou had returned from snooping around your house to inspect your progress. His light footsteps trailed in and it had only taken one small look for him to deduce that you were too slow. 

        “I’ll help you pack, Angel. Obviously, you’re concerned about what I want you to wear, but trust me when I say I only want you to feel comfortable in your new home.” That was the least of all your worries. “You don’t need to try and impress me, I love how you look in everything.”

        Truly, it wasn’t what he said, it was the way Garou said it that made your skin crawl. Like he had literally seen you in anything, so there was no point in showing him what he had already seen. Though it was true that you had felt like someone has been watching you for weeks now, you never really noticed that the gaze was real until this moment. 

        Oh God, this could be my life now.

        No, you couldn’t think like that yet. The cops and hopefully some Class S heroes were on their way. All you had to do was keep Garou here just a bit longer. 

        Silence falls after his words and you resume folding your clothes and dropping them into the suitcase. Time to time, you hear Garou digging around in your dresser behind you before dropping a pair of your more scandalous undergarments into the case. The remainder of the moments spent in your room with you, he stands directly behind you with his bulky arms wrapped around your waist, solid as concrete. Sometimes, his chin sits on your shoulder and he watches you work. Others, he presses his lips to your bare skin, barely covered from your t-shirt, and runs his mouth up to your ear and down to your collarbone. 

        Of the two evils, you preferred the former. 

        You bite your tongue to stop from gagging at his wandering fingers. They’ve trailed up into your shirt, leaving your breath hitched, and now they’re making a move lower and lower. Just as the tips of his nails brush the zipper of your jeans, you start a conversation in effort to stop him. 

        “Garou.” 

        It works, and you almost cry out in relief when his hands draw back to your hips once more. “Hmm?”

        Now that you’ve halted his movements, you’ve almost forgotten how you planned on keeping him preoccupied. Then the perfect question hits you. 

        “...Why me?” 

        Killing two birds with one stone, you were genuinely curious as to why the Hero Hunter had chosen you to be the object of his affection. 

        Though, apparently your question was hilariously easy to answer, as he lets out a deep chuckle after your words. 

        “Because, YN, you were made for me. I can tell. And I can’t let this world hurt someone so pure like you. I promise I’ll take care of you for the rest of-” 

        Police sirens in the distance cut off his declaration of love, approaching faster and faster. Garou mutters a curse under his breath, separating from you to open the blinds of your window. 

        Flashing red and blue lights grow brighter before he cuts them off completely with a flick of his wrist. When he turns around, his eyes are darting, searching for some clue as to how they knew- oh shit.

        At last, his gaze lands on your phone, still sitting on the bed, face down. Your entire form stiffens and you berate yourself for not hiding it earlier. 

        Son of a bitch.

        “YN,” he seethes, voice low enough to make you flinch. Your heart beats hard enough to climb up your throat as his eyes burn a hole into your forehead. “I sincerely hope you’re not that stupid.” You gulp but keep your head low, hands still fiddling with a pair of folded jeans. You don’t dare reply to him. 

        “Oh Angel, you’re about to learn who exactly you’re dealing with.” With one last glare in your direction, he strides out of the room. His gait is no longer light and disguised. 

        No, he’s no longer patient and sleek. Instead, his stomps echo all the way to your front door. You can almost hear the wind blow through your house as he whips the entrance open and steps out to greet what you hope are your saviors. 

        The sirens’ screeches have finally stopped but their lights still flash through the cracks of your blinds. From what you can see, there are only two squad cars. 

        Judging by Garou’s well-built yet lithe physique, you’d say those officers are more than screwed. 

        Not even two seconds later, the horror begins. The door to your bedroom is open, but God how you wish it was closed. Maybe it would muffle the pained screams. 

        Gunshots sound, rattling your ears as you stay put, praying that they’ve hit their target. 

        No man can escape a bullet. You hoped that philosophy would apply to this moment as well. 

        For a single second, silence hangs in the air enough to hear a pin drop. 

        Then you’re placed into real-time horror movie audio. 

        Broken cries of “Oh God,” and “No, please, I have a family!” slam through your body like tidal waves. 

       You wanted to run, but you felt frozen in place. The godawful sounds floating in from outside kept you locked in your spot over the suitcase.

        Finally, your knees aren’t strong enough to hold you as they falter under the weight. With only your bed to support you, you wilt to the ground like a browning flower petal, collapsing in on yourself and whimpering into your kneecaps. 

        “Please,” you whisper.

        Crack. 

        “Not me,” you rock back and forth.

        Gurgle.

        “I don’t want this.”

        Shing.

        “I never wanted this.”

        Splash.

        “Why?”

        Slump.

        By the time the sounds are over, you’ve smashed your palms against your ears hard enough to leave bruises. The taste of copper in your mouth reveals that you’ve been gnawing on your lip too. 

        Large, rough hands tug you off the ground and into a hulking embrace. Not a single indent or raise in Garou’s form is soft enough to give you comfort. You feel trapped against a brick wall, sobbing and shivering at all the screams, shouts, and snaps you had just heard. 

        One of his hands digs into your hair, yanking your head close enough that it’s ducked into his chest while the other uses its nails to pierce the soft skin of your lower back. 

        “You made me do this, YN.” 

        You can feel it against your face, the blood soaked into his shirt. Deep down, you know it’s not his. 

        “I need you in my life.” 

        This was your life now. Cops couldn’t save you. The heroes whose possessions you hid in your closet couldn’t save you. This man-

        “And nobody’s ever going to take you away from me.” 

        This monster was unstoppable. Garou, the Hero Hunter, the Human Monster, had taken you as his own personal possession. 

        After gifting you with the trophies of his own wins, he would finally accept you as the ultimate prize. 

       “Now let’s go home, Angel.”

Praiseworthy (Bokuto x Reader) (NSFW)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After winning his volleyball game, Bokuto comes over wanting to celebrate. The both of you sure know how to throw a thrilling two-person party. 

A/N: (I literally listened to “Crazy in Love Remix” the whole time I wrote this, so it gets a little serious and steamy. I ain’t sorry.) I’m definitely going to hell for this…. Oh well. I wrote this to celebrate getting 100 followers, so thank you so much! This is my first NSFW however, so please don’t raise it to any high standards. Anyways, here’s Bokuto with a praise kink. Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT!!!, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,  praise kink

Word count: 2659

        You were at home working on an essay for your class and moping about missing your boyfriend’s volleyball game when you got his texts.

Owl-baby: WE WON OUR GAMEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Owl-baby: I’m coming over to get my reward ;)

       Smiling widely at the news, you shook your head at his antics. His reward usually consisted of movies and tight cuddles while he excitedly told you all about the game you shamefully missed. You looked forward to nights like those just as much as he did, but you were usually less vocal about it. Nonetheless, you were thankful your parents were out visiting relatives for the whole weekend, and began to prepare the living room for the inevitable snuggle session with Bokuto. Movie, check. Popcorn, check. Blankets, check. Boyfriend… the doorbell rang just as you picked up your phone to text him. A light, happy feeling flowed through your chest as you answered the door. As per usual, you choked out a breath after being tackled in a tight hug, but you never minded. 

       “Did you get my message?! We won, YN, we’re going to Nationals!” He was shaking with excitement and squeezed your sides as a result, making you jerk in his arms before laughing. 

       “Yes, of course I heard, Kou. I’m so proud of you.” You smiled softly while pulling away, holding his cheeks in your palms and rubbing them gently with your thumbs. Bokuto bit his lip at the action and placed his hands over your own, leaning in for a slow, deep kiss which you gladly returned. When he broke away, his golden orbs were abnormally dark and his pupils dilated after making eye contact with you. For an instant, his hands gripped yours harder before his eyes glanced back down at your lips, licking his own instinctively.

       “Tell me again,” he mumbled, cheeks growing red at his own words. His voice, however, was strong and didn’t waver once while he watched you intensely.

       “What?” you asked confusedly. You weren’t quite sure what he was getting at.

       “Tell me how good I did. Please.” You faltered at his request and sucked in a short breath at the implication. Running your fingers down his neck and back into his hair ever so slowly, you leaned your head in closer to his ear. 

       “You did so good, baby. So, so good.” His breaths were labored as you tugged on the strands between your fingers. His own hands, which had fallen down to your hips, were bruising at this point. Suddenly, he crashed his lips against yours once more and slammed you back against the wall in your home’s entryway. The pictures on the wall shook with the force, but you were too distracted to care. Even the movie playing in the background faded away as Bokuto’s tongue asked for entrance into your mouth. You let him in easily, fighting for dominance while occasionally separating for a breath. Every time you two rejoined, your teeth clashed from the battle, but it was too heated for you to notice. His hands slid down to your thighs and tugged on them encouragingly, a signal for you to jump. You listened to the orders and hooked your feet together behind his back. He carried you to your room blindly but surprisingly well, lips never breaking for a second. 

       His strong hands clutched your ass while you kept your own grip in his hair, keeping his head angled up at you for easy access. Bokuto backed up into your bedroom and kicked the door shut, the slam not concerning either of you. Pulling away, you both gasped for air with puffy lips and rosy cheeks while your boyfriend navigated his way to your bed. Slowly lowering you down, you fell back gently onto the soft blankets, tugging his face to join you. He smirked, running his thumb along your lower lip to spread the stray drop of saliva that had been located there before obeying your wish, his tongue reentering your mouth. His hands left your ass to slide up your shirt, caressing your sides tenderly. You, on the other hand, hooked your fingers into his pants’ belt loops and drew him in, grinding harshly against the hard tent in his pants. 

       “Oh fuck,” he groaned breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours while he returned the favor, sticking to the pace you had set while his fingertips tweaked your nipples through your bra. The touch shot a wave of pleasure straight down to your heat, and your thighs tightened around his hips instinctively at the sensation. Your whimpers were loud and shameless as you ground into him, ignoring the gushing crawling its way down your thighs. Bokuto looked back into your eyes and silently asked to undress you. You nodded in approval with heavily lidded eyes, lifting your arms to help him in the deed, and you did the same for him, throwing away the devilish shirt before tracing your fingertips in the grooves of his abs. 

       “Ah!” You let out a cry of surprise when the golden-eyed man tore your bra away from your chest, ripping the fabric in the process as he tossed it forgettably behind him. On any other day, you would have scolded him. Today, however, there was no time. You needed him. You didn’t even mind when his eyes hungrily stared at your chest before he pounced, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth and harshly sucking. When you had first gotten together, your hands had instantly reacted, covering your breasts shyly while you avoided eye contact. He had to gently coax your hands away while constantly reminding you that you were gorgeous. Now, you learned your lesson. Bokuto thought you were beautiful and he wanted you. And there was no stopping him when he wanted something. Even the second time he had seen you bare while you tried to hide, he jumped on you too quickly. Every time he got you naked, he was always somewhere on your skin. Touching, stroking, caressing, biting. Bokuto used everything he had when he was with you. Teeth, hands, even his thighs were often used to hold you down while you trembled under his will. 

       “Oh shit,” you moaned breathlessly. His mouth was leaving a display of hickeys all over the span of your chest, and one of his hands had slid under your arched back to press you closer to him and keep you still as you squirmed. Your lungs were begging for air as you gasped at the feeling of Bokuto’s lips, hands tugging his hair harshly. While you were distracted, his other hand traced a hot trail down the middle of your body, sliding past your belly button and slipping into your thin panties. Huh, that’s weird, my pants are gone. You had been too caught up that you hadn’t even noticed the only barriers now separating you and your boyfriend were his boxers and your barely-there undergarments. 

       “Damn, baby, is that lace?” He uttered hotly while glancing up at you from your freshly marked chest. Hesitantly, you nodded in response and he groaned, abruptly burying a finger deep inside you. You mewl loudly, moving your hands down to dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks you wouldn’t mind seeing in the morning. Your head falls back, pressing harshly into the mattress while Bokuto begins to rub furious, fast-paced circles onto your clit. “You treat me so well, sweetheart,” he groans, his other hand squeezing your hip to keep you firmly in place as you shiver from pleasure. 

       “Ah fuck!” you whine desperately. “Keep going, you’re doing so good.” The encouragement causes him to whimper while he digs another finger inside you, thrusting in and out too quickly for you to comprehend. The waves of pleasure are wracking through your body like never before, and you yelp when your boyfriend suddenly presses his thumb brutally against your clit, making your whole body convulse. At last, it becomes too much and you shakily warn him, “I’m gonna come.” 

       “Come for me, baby.” His words trigger an abundance of arousal, and immediately your juices flow out around his fingers as the bubble finally bursts inside your chest. Your moans are almost pornographic at this point, but you can’t help it. He feels too good. Bokuto watches your display with glimmering, ravenous eyes, and swiftly hops off the bed, removing his boxers in a split second before tugging your soaked panties down your legs and tossing them away. You’re still trying to catch your breath when he mounts on top of you, sliding his hips once more between your thighs like it’s where they’re meant to be. You don’t mind that thought, basking in the idea before it flies away along with the rest of your thoughts as Bokuto returns a finger back to your heat, gathering some remains from the inside of your thighs and popping it inside his mouth, giving it a small taste. 

       His reaction makes you burn crimson as he moans. “Goddamn baby.” He looks into your eyes and starts to hover over you, grabbing both of your wrists and trapping them directly above your head with one hand while the other positions his throbbing erection at your entrance. “The only one who gets to taste you is me,” he informs you possessively, golden orbs glowing at the thought. 

       You smile tenderly at him and agree. “Of course baby, you’re so good for me. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Your praise causes him to puff out his chest and smirk, and you wiggle your hips to remind him of the original plan. He takes the hint and abruptly thrusts into you in one swift motion. Your whole body jolts at the movement and you moan in surprise. Bokuto releases your hands and grabs both of your hips tightly, plunging into you swiftly. The feeling of him rapidly reaching deeper and harder inside of you, raking along your walls harshly causes your toes to curl. He hits that oh-so wonderful spot deep inside of you, and your jaw drops in pure euphoria at the feeling. His groans match yours in volume, and you absolutely adore that about him. Taking advantage of your free hands, you raise them up to his intensely focused face, caressing his cheek softly while moaning aloud. 

       His golden eyes burst open and he leans his head into your touch, his thrusts slowing slightly. You rub your thumbs back and forth across the apples of his cheeks while cooing, “You feel so good, Kou, don’t ever stop.” The reaction from him is instant. Already prepared, you dig your fingernails into his back and drag them down while hanging on for dear life as he pumps into you harder than before. The stinging from his back combined with your tightness causes him to bury his face into your neck, biting down in pleasure as his thrusts quicken even more. You whimper at his teeth, crying out and grabbing his biceps for stability as the mattress squeaks, the noise reverberating around the room and mixing lewdly with the sounds of pleasure. He peels your hands away, pressing them into the sheets above your head before intertwining his fingers with your own. His erratic pace begins to lose its steady rhythm as he grunts out your name deeply, gripping your palms harder. 

       Watching your face from above, he relishes in the sight of your open mouth and darkened eyes, not hesitating to combine your lips before he mumbles against them, “You’re so tight baby, I’m gonna come.” His hands grasp yours tightly and you squeeze them back in return.

       “Me too, Kou. Ah! Just like that, don’t stop!” His thrusts speed up in response, and the coil that had been slowly winding up deep within you is becoming unbearably compressed. Finally, it breaks, and you clench around him tightly while you release, overflowing just as before while your legs shudder uncontrollably. Bokuto groans at your tightness and releases as well, collapsing right on top of you. You let out a huff of air at the sudden drop, and giggle softly while running your hands through his sweaty, black and white hair. Your tired boyfriend’s breathing is labored, but still more controlled and calm than your own as you both bask in the afterglow you’ve created. Stupid volleyball stamina. As if he heard your thoughts, Bokuto perks back up, heaving himself back up on his hands and knees over you and peering deep into your eyes pleadingly. 

       “One more round?” he bargains, his hands running up and down your thighs, every time drawing closer to your sore, abused opening. He wants to keep going?! You shake your head and open your mouth to refuse, only to mewl and whimper when he begins to rub your overstimulated clit. He was harshly riding the fine line between pain and pleasure, but that wasn’t new with Bokuto. Suddenly, your mind goes foggy when he begins to stroke up and down along your core, enticing high-pitched whines out of you. He smiles brightly when your hands reach up and grip his shoulders in preparation for what was to come next. 

       Maybe just one more round won’t hurt.

                               ^^^

       So that was a fucking lie.

       When you woke up the next morning trapped in Bokuto’s tight grasp, your whole body howled in pain. Your fingers, your back, your legs. Hell, even your toes were sore. But that didn’t distract you at all from the amount of pressure in your bladder. I have to pee, I have to pee, I have to pee. You kept repeating that to yourself while you attempted to squirm out of your boyfriend’s death grip, only to panic and groan at the feeling of his arms tightening around your waist. His movements didn’t help your situation at all. Startled by the overwhelming fear that you might just not make it to the bathroom, you begin to writhe around like a fish out of water in his arms. At last, Bokuto whines from behind you, releasing an exhausted yawn. 

       “Why are you trying to leave?” He drops a muscular thigh over your hips, effectively putting a halt to your wriggling as well as more firmly trapping you to the mattress. You scoff humorously at the action before twisting in his grip to look at his face. 

       Patting his cheek, you sulkily explain, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

       “Do you have to?” His arms tighten.

       “Yes!” you exclaim exasperatedly. He opens his arms and you smile gratefully before turning and sitting up, setting your feet on the floor. However, just as you stand up, your knees give in and collapse directly under you, causing you to face plant on the floor with a yelp.

       “Oh shit, YN! Are you okay?!” Bokuto rapidly crawls his way over to you from his side of the bed, peering down at you on the floor.

       “Oh yeah, just peachy,” you sass back, muffled by a mouthful of carpet. Your arms burn as you try to lift yourself up. You settle for rolling over like a beached whale and shyly make eye contact with your boyfriend. “Umm, can you help me for a sec, babe?” 

       “Oh, of course!” He scrambles off the mattress and lifts you into his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal-style and setting you down on the sink. Ever so slowly, you hop off and stand on two trembling legs like a newborn giraffe, hanging onto the porcelain for dear life while your boyfriend watches with an amused expression. 

       “That good, huh?” he asks cheekily, waggling his eyebrows at you. You don’t hesitate to slam the door in his face, your cheeks on fire. He wasn’t wrong, though. It was totally worth it.