Please Don’t Save Me (Yandere Garou X Reader) 

Your yandere works are IMMACULATE 😍 if you see me spam liking your works, no you didn't 🙈

Aww, thank you!!

and I didn’t see a thing👀🤐

He Sends You a Nude (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

(Ace Version)

A/N: Guess who’s going to helllll😙 I spent way too long on this, and my search history rly didn’t need that kinda damage, so ur gonna have to settle for this. Enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

One Sorry Idiot in a Tree (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After Bakugou saw you “flirt” with Kirishima, he wasn’t very happy with you. Gee, I wonder what you could do to make him forgive you. On a completely unrelated note, did you know there was a tree outside his window?

A/N: Just some more writer’s block killin’, don’t mind me. Got this idea from @otpdisaster​ with this prompt. Hope you like it!

Word count: 2305

        It began with small pebbles.

       Dink.

       Dink.

       After twenty minutes of that, you ran out of rocks. Now, you scaled the tree next to the dormitory building of Class 1-A like Rapunzel’s prince, prepared to get Bakugou’s attention by any means necessary. A branch, not exactly sturdy-looking, but enough, extended out perfectly to your boyfriend’s window. Before you tapped on it, you grimaced at the sight of the small cracks you had left in the glass from rock-throwing. 

       Oops.

       The night was cold but the full moon provided enough light for you to koala-climb your way across the tree branch to his window, hanging on for dear life whenever it swayed in the wind. The bark made indents in your hands from you gripping it like no tomorrow, but you were desperate to speak with him. Finally, you made across enough to reach out with one trembling arm. 

       Tap tap.

       “Why did he have to live on the fourth floor?” you mutter to yourself shakily, knocking on the glass once more before pulling back and clinging to the tree as evil winds from Satan himself tried to blow you up and away. So… guess I have a fear of heights now.

       At last, the curtains covering Bakugou’s window were ripped away as the blond glared out into the night, only for his eyes to widen in surprise.

       “YN?!” he exclaimed. Or at least you think he did. The thickness of the building muffled his words, so it was actually more like “Mphfmpfhmlpfhf?” He was now enraged and shouting at you through the pane, eyes glaring furiously in true Bakugou fashion. He was about ready to throw hands, approaching your form with heavy stomps you could hear from all the way outside, but he… you know, couldn’t reach you. 

       Throughout this whole fiasco, you were chuckling under your breath while watching him like a wild gorilla in a zoo enclosure. Then suddenly, Bakugou’s expression saddened and he withdrew from the window, sitting on his bed and just staring at you with arms hanging motionlessly at his side. You figured he was bummed he couldn’t beat the shit out of you when you were swaying back and forth on a forty-foot tree. You puffed a warm breath on the glass and reached out with a trembling hand, shakily writing “r u ok?” backwards. 

       Bakugou’s brows furrowed as he read the note (you wrote the “k” wrong) before scoffing and hissing words at you. Either he hadn’t figured out you couldn’t hear him, or this was his last push for you to learn how to read lips. Either way, you were over it. You shook your head and pointed to your ear, only to scream in fright when you lost balance and almost dropped to your chilly, forty-foot death. Bakugou jumped up from his bed and sprinted toward you, his palms slamming against the glass barrier while he shouted your name in a panic. 

       You, on the other hand, prayed to every god above and under the sun while you swung back and forth, hanging upside down and hugging the tree branch tightly to your chest.

       “Oh, son of a bitch, thank God!” you laugh in relief before wiggling yourself upright on the thin, outstretched bark. Bakugou’s forehead slapped against the window as he sighed thankfully, his breath causing the pane to fog. He caught sight of this and wrote you a message with a clenched jaw. 

       “R u ok???” In his haste, he had forgotten to write it backwards, and you giggled at the sight before nodding. He narrows his eyes at you and flips you off. You laugh and do the same while straddling the tree branch, clouds streaming from your mouth every time you breathe with the chilly temperatures. 

       “Goddamnit it’s freezing out here,” you mumble, teeth chattering. Normally, you would hug yourself and rub your arms up and down to gather warmth, but right now… no. Never. Yes, you were the idiot who climbed a tree to ask her boyfriend for forgiveness, but you weren’t the idiot who died falling out of a tree after climbing it to ask for forgiveness. Stupidity was your style, but dying stupidly was just pitiful. 

       Ever so slowly, you scooched your way down the branch, holding in a breath as it dipped with your weight while you reached out to write another message. “I’m sorry.”

       The blond read the note while a muscle in his jaw twitched. His arms hung limply at his side once more, but his hands still curled into fists at the words. With glowing, scarlet eyes, he snarled at you and plumped down into his spinny desk chair, fingers gripping the arm rests tightly.

       “At least he didn’t close the blinds yet.” Your chest fills with hope and you smile gently, wiping away the old message and drawing a new one.

       “I didn’t mean to piss you off.” 

       Your brain hurt from the amount of effort you had to put into writing that whole spiel backwards, but he was worth it. Your fingers turning blue? Yeah, that was kind of a problem. You blow hot air on the one hand before transferring and blowing on the other, watching and waiting for Bakugou’s reaction as you do. 

       His eyes run over the note once, then twice, then one more time until you realize he’s actually watching your form and rolling his eyes. Still, the blinds remain open, and you whisper a “Yes!” Extending your arm once again, you write another message. 

       “I love u.” You sketch a heart along with it, although it looks more like a fat, seated camel thanks to your trembling hands. 

       The message, however, still pleases the furious boyfriend, and you’d like to think he had whipped out his phone and taken pictures of you to remind himself on a terrible day that you loved him dearly. You know, rather than the less desirable, more realistic theory that he was going to blackmail you with it later and present it to his friends.

       “Oh, fuck you, dickhead!” you shout at the window, shaking a middle finger at him as emphatically as you can. Shit, why aren’t there any other physical gestures of hatred? My finger’s getting cold. It was getting more of a work-out than the rest of your hands, so you supposed you couldn’t complain too much. With Bakugou as your boyfriend, you were surprised your middle fingers didn’t have six-packs by now.

       Ooh, speaking of six-packs.

       The blond cackled in his room while reclaiming his seat, the motion causing his shirt to fly up slightly and reveal- Jesus fuck. Who gave him permission to have that?

       Shaking away the distraction, you give him a sarcastic smile and laugh before writing one last time. 

       “Ok, so do u forgive me?”

       You lean back and huff, waiting for his response while he assesses the message. At last, he purses his lips and rises slowly from the chair. The light glowing from his room pushed away the darkness around you enough for you to inspect your bluing fingers while you waited for a response. 

        Inside the warm, toasty building, Bakugou scoffed at your trembling form. That didn’t stop the fond smile from growing on his face, but maybe, just maybe you deserved it this round. Ah, fuck it. His eyes glinted when he came up with the perfect message.

       “Yes, I love u too.” 

       However, halfway through drawing this on the slightly-chilled glass that froze his precious fingertips, your form disappeared from his peripheral vision. 

       What.

       Bakugou’s face turned into pure panic when he spotted the cracked, jagged edges of a broken tree branch in your place. 

       “Oh shit! YN!” 

       Your boyfriend charged down the stairwell, loud curses trailing behind him in echoes as he busted ass down the steps. At last, the door was in sight as he blasted through it and out into the dark night, setting off the occasional explosion to light up his surroundings. Then he spotted your form, silent and unmoving next to a broken tree branch. 

       “YN!” the blond roared, sprinting towards you at break-neck speed and dropping on his knees next to you. Your eyes were shut and your lips were barely open, releasing small puffs of air every few seconds. Still, you didn’t make a sound, even when Bakugou patted you anxiously on the cheek. 

       “YN wake up, I swear to God.” You didn’t respond. He fell back on his knees and reached up to his scalp, hands digging in and yanking on the strands frustratedly.

       “Fuck, YN, please!” 

       Nothing. Tears pricked his eyes.

       “Come on! I forgive you, just please come back!” Your eyes peeled open at that and you let out a snort. 

       “Seriously, I have to fall out of a tree to get you to forgive me? You’re kind of a dic- foof.” Any air in your lungs was forced out as Bakugou snatched up your cold body and held you close, squeezing you tighter and tighter with every passing second. It was warm at first, so you relaxed into it, but then it started to feel like a strangling.

       “O-kay,” you choked out, patting his back, “I yield, I yield.” He held you impossibly closer just one more second and your eyes almost bulged out of your head before he leaned away, glaring at you with damp cheeks. 

       “Don’t ever do that again.” 

       “Do what? Flirt with Kirishima or fall out of a tree?”

       “Both.” He avoided your tender gaze and tensed up when your hands palmed his cheeks, wiping away any and all stray tears. 

       “Okay,” you whispered. “I promise.” 

       “Good.” He pushed away your grasp and rose up off the ground, glaring at his feet while holding out a hand. “Now come on. Your hands are fucking icicles.”

       You scoff. “Yeah, no thanks to you, dipwad.” Nonetheless, you accept his offer and stand up, cringing at his white-knuckled grip on your hand while he leads you into the dorm building. 

       “I didn’t ask you to scale a fucking tree to beg for forgiveness,” he grumbles.

       “I didn’t ask you to get all jealous and mopey after I asked Kirishima for a pencil!” you counter.

       “You didn’t ask for a pencil, you asked for his wood!” You can’t help but snicker at the memory.

       “Hehe, yeah. You should’ve seen how red his face got, too! Especially when I reached over and stole it.” You smack your knee while wheezing with laughter. “He looked so fucking scared!” 

       “It’s not that funny.” Bakugou shook his head and rolled his eyes. Your hands were so concerningly blue that all he could focus on was leading you back to his room.

       “-and his face was all like, ‘Oh shit!’” Your amused howls echoed throughout the dorm halls before stopping suddenly as the smile dropped off your instantly serious face. “I think the cold is getting to me.”

       “Yeah, no shit,” Bakugou grumbles, kicking open his door and slamming it shut after tugging you inside. “Strip.”

       “Excuse me?”

       “You’re excused. Now strip.” Your brows furrowed and you smacked his chest lightly. 

       “Listen up, pervert. I’m not stripping for you or anyone el- O-okay.” Mid-sentence, Bakugou had whipped out his trump card on you. Now, he stood shirtless and pantless in the middle of his room, giving you an expectant look. My man is hella ripped. You gulped while eye-fucking him. You wished there was no eye.

       “Who’s the pervert now?” he smirked, taking a seat on the far end of the bed so his back faced you. “There, I’m not looking. Now strip.” 

       To be fair, you knew there was some logic to his words. There was something about having to be completely nude, or at least in drier clothes, when someone was trying to fend off hypothermia. You didn’t care to think too much about it. Right now, your herculean boyfriend was demanding you to hop into bed (partially) naked with him. You weren’t always stupid. 

       After tossing your clothes into his laundry basket near the door, you slipped under the covers and poked him in his sturdy back. Are back muscles a kink? Shit, those temperatures out there had really messed with your head. Or maybe it was the fall? He got the message and joined you under the blankets, his arms instinctively wrapping around your frozen waist and pulling you close. You sigh and nuzzle into his warm chest, relaxing easily thanks to his body heat. Finally having a moment of clarity, you decided to apologize. 

       “I really am sorry for pissing you off like that.” You stared deeply into his eyes while nervously picking at the bedsheets. 

       “It’s okay.” 

       “It was pretty romantic when I climbed that tree for you, though, wasn’t it?” Bakugou sighed and tugged you closer by your cold hips. 

       “Yes, yes it was-”

       “I knew it!” you shouted, wiggling next to him in bed with victory. 

       “Shut up over there!” Kirishima shouted from next door. Your eyes widened with shame.

       “Sorry!” you shouted back before groaning and running your hands down your warmed face, peeking out from in between fingers when Bakugou released a small chuckle. The noise was deep and melodic, and you were addicted to it the instant you heard it.

       Yes, you were an idiot. And you would gladly stay one if you got to end every day with that laugh in your ears. 

       You were his idiot.

Okay, I have an itty-bitty problem. I have writer’s block. Like bad. The worst part is I just hit 200 followers and I really want to celebrate, but I don’t know how. This feels terrible. Does anybody have literally any suggestions for getting over this? Please help me, my brain feels empty.

is taglists open, sorry if it’s not ,,,

the reborn taglist is still open! If u were talking about taglists in general those are open too, so no need to be sorry🥺

hi its the anon who requested the second part and aHHH!!! im so happy omg ily its so well written and the ending omg just pERFECT SJSJSJSJ

Asjskfh thank you so much🥺💜 I’m so glad you liked it, and I’m happy I got to end the soulmate au on a high note😌👌

Hiya can you do Tsukishima crushing on Sugawara younger sister who is in the same year and class as him and Sugawara is super protective of his younger sister? ❤❤❤❤❤ five hearts for the best rating of an awesome writer

This is like three years old but I'm trying to clean out my inbox and I came up with ideas for this years ago so here they are:

“Awww, you loveeee me,” yn coos. 

“No,” he rolls his eyes and turns away, “I don’t.”

“Tsukki fell in love with meeee,” she sang, rocking from side to side with a teasing grin. 

I feel like Suga is mostly resistant to letting Tsukishima date his sister bc he knows how mean and rash Tsukki can be. 

Tsukishima one time just walks up behind yn and drops his forehead onto her shoulder. A muffled groan escapes from him while she pats his cheek and snorts. “Why is everyone so stupid?”

In the distance, Sugawara sees this and malfunctions. This is the first time he’s seen them together. 

For the first time in tsukishima’s life, he actually wanted human contact. He wanted to hold someone, maybe their hand. Or hug someone, even for just a second. He wanted to run his hands down their sides and brush the stray hairs from their face.

It was you. That “someone” was you.

yn sugawara. 

Don't mind me, I'll just be reading everything your masterlist, thank you. Your writing is *chefs kiss" 🥰

Oop, thank youuu🥺💜💜 have fun my friend✨

Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 1~

(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: This is gonna be a series if y’all want it, or it could die right here right now. Either way, I hope y’all like it!

Word count: 5771

        You were just as beautiful as when he had first met you eight centuries ago. The too-small apartment you bumbled around in was just outside the university’s campus so you could get to your early morning classes, and resided about two miles away from your horrible job so you could travel to work easily too. 

        Through your window, he could see you singing a tune shyly under your breath, still new enough to living in an apartment that you didn’t know whether your neighbors could hear you. The clangs from the dishes you placed into your cupboards hurt his ears, even though he was a few hundred feet away on another complex’s dusty rooftop. There was a gentle smile on your face that sped up his heart, and a lively glow in your eyes that made him hold back a giggle. Your skin looked so soft too-

        “What’s she doing?” A dull voice hummed behind the older, more energetic man. 

        “The dishes, just like every other Thursday,” he responded cheerfully, peeling his gaze away from the telescope and swiveling to his friend. “She’s putting away the knives.” 

        “She’s gonna hurt herself.”

        “No way,” the older shook his head, “she handles knives just as well as she has in her past lives.”         “Yeah, but this round she’s seriously clumsy. It gives me a headache.” The black-haired male shoulders past his companion to glance through the spyglass. He sighs at the event he witnesses. “There, see? She just cut herself.” 

        “Oh shit, let me see!” The erratic man pushes his aloof friend aside to watch you, scared you had been seriously injured. It doesn’t take long before the sight of you takes its effect, and he feels his canines piercing through his gums. You were bleeding.

        Inside your apartment, you hiss against your teeth while gingerly dabbing a tissue against the finger you had sliced open. Anxiously, he gulps before pulling away from the scope and turning to his friend. 

        “I guess we’ll just have to watch over her even more this time.”

        “No kidding.”

        Both men loved you. Both men needed you. And soon, both men would have you. 

                                ~~~

        University, you decided, was going to be a blast. You had a wonderful job at a little diner, many classes that interested you, and a cheap apartment that cost almost nothing compared to how wonderful the size and interior of it was. 

        There was only one small downside: everywhere you went, it felt like a pair of eyes was constantly watching you. While you did your homework, while you slept, while you traveled to class, it was terrifying. Someone was watching you; the only question was who? 

        “YN!” A voice frightens you out of your daze and you turn to find the voice. It’s Sakura, the only friend you’ve made since you’ve been on campus so far. Her long, black hair tumbles down her shoulders in wavy locks, and it brushes the waistline of her drastically-mini skirt. Most of her toned stomach is showing, but the neon orange crop top she’s wearing isn’t really doing her any favors. In a word, Sakura was… voluptuous, even though she stood about a petit four inches  below you. She certainly knew how to flaunt her assets, anyway. 

        You, on the other hand, accepted your collegiate fate instantly. Hiking your hefty backpack up higher on your shoulder, you tried not to feel like a potato sack standing across from her in your plain, maroon sweatshirt and black yoga pants. While she stood on the most popular Vans of this decade, checkered and all, you settled for your black and white Adidas, which were way past their prime. Your budget couldn’t afford it anyways, so there was no point in a comparison. 

        “Hey Sakura!” you waved shyly and tensed when she joined her arm with your own. “what’s up?” 

        “Oh nothing,” she rolled her eyes playfully before skipping on her feet beside you, “I’m just freaking out over getting to meet the new, hot teacher!” Squinting your eyes at the screech, you press your heels into the ground to stop her trek. Sakura glances back at you curiously.

        “New teacher?” Her jaw drops at you.

        “You didn’t know?!” You flinch at her high-pitched exclamation once more before shaking your head.

        “No…?”

        “Oh my God, YN!” she drawls and smacks your shoulder playfully, “you need to get in the loop around here! You’re a student too, you know.” 

        “Oh, trust me, I know.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Now tell me more about this ‘hot teacher’ you’re so excited to meet.” She squeals with delight and latches onto your upper arm, dragging you inside the school’s main building. 

        It looks much more sleek on the inside than on the outside. While the exterior of the school was made from old, mossy bricks and had spire-like architectures to resemble a castle, the interior had pure white marble floors and walls covered in glass cases holding trophies. More awards than you ever thought existed lined the bright halls of the university, each adorned with a picture of a smiling alumni. Distantly, you wondered if you would ever accomplish something as special. 

        “So Brittany told me that Alex said that Jennifer heard…” Sakura’s gleeful chitters echo down the endless corridors, trailing off as you fall deeper and deeper into a worry-filled rabbit hole. What if you failed right on the first day? What if you never even came close to winning any kind of important awards like the people who had come here before you? 

        A headache grew not only from the bitter scent of Windex in the air covering every glass surface around you, but also from the flurry of thoughts in your head. You barely even comprehend when Sakura drops your arm and gasps at something, and you only shake out of your daze when it’s too late. 

        “Oof.” You slam into a sturdy, bulky chest and fall with a thud to the marble floor. With a hiss, you rub your aching backside and groan lightly. “That kinda hurt.”

        “Oh, I’m so sorry, are you all right?” The voice is deep and throaty, but there’s a certain giddiness about it that makes you wonder if his bumping into you was really an accident. Huffing, you glare up at the man, only to freeze at the sight. His hair looks like a black and white explosion, and his golden eyes are lit up with childlike excitement. Everything about him screams “powerful,” and even though his mouth is hidden behind a black facemask, you could almost swear he was beaming at you. Suddenly, a hand is waving around in front of your face.

        “Are you okay?” he asks again, eyes still narrowed arrogantly while he offers you help to your feet. 

        When you accept, a spark trails from his fingertips to yours and travels through your whole body at lightning speed before settling in the pit of your stomach. Involuntarily, you shiver and your fingers squeeze his large, rough hands. He lets out a small hum and closes his eyes at the action before whipping them open not even a second later. The pupils, black and glittering, have taken over the majority of his irises, and the man takes a small step closer to you. 

        “Thanks,” you whisper, unable to detach yourself from his enrapturing gaze.

        “Of course, YN.” The skin just under his eye twitches as he leans closer to you, and your breath hitches at his growing proximity.

        “Ahem!” Someone clears their throat loudly behind the wild-haired man and he instantly pulls away from you at the sound. It was like you had burned him, but before you could ask if he was okay, he mutters an apology over his shoulder and twists away from you, but not before giving your hand a quick squeeze. With a wink, he disappears into another hallway, leaving you with a tight feeling in your chest and a racing heart. 

        “YN!” It’s at that moment that you realize Sakura had witnessed all of that. “What the hell was that?” she whisper-yells at you with wide, mystified eyes. Still flustered yourself, you can only shrug and clench the straps of your backpack tightly.

        “I don’t know.” 

        “Well it doesn’t matter,” she scoffs before grasping your forearm and discreetly gesturing to a man in front of you. “Look,” she whispers enthusiastically, “it’s the hot teacher.”

        Oh, so that’s why she had gasped. And not without reason, too. The guy standing in front of you stole your breath away, and jump-started your heart just as it was about to settle down. 

        He had gunmetal blue eyes that seemed to narrow at everything, and messy black hair you desperately wanted to run your hands through. Though he was less built than the man you had just run into, there was still a hint of muscle under his clean, dark blazer. He was decked in a suit and tie, and looked more like James Bond than your new English teacher. Not that you were complaining. 

        “You ladies must be new students in my class.” His tone, albeit flat and bored, still set a fire to your nerves, much like the boy from earlier.

        “Yes, professor, we are!” Sakura nods frantically beside you and bats her eyelashes. “We are so excited to be in your class this year!” While she puckers her lips discreetly, you shift on your feet and bite the inside of your cheek, trying to restrain a blush. When his gaze shifts to you and the corner of his lips quirks up, your plan goes down the drain. 

        With a light chuckle under his breath, the professor nods approvingly at the two of you, and an emotion flickers through his eyes for a fleeting second as he stares at you once more. You barely catch it and can’t identify it in the small amount of time before he says, “Well, my room is right here. Class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, but you’re not the only ones to arrive early, so go ahead and find a seat.” 

        He gestures for you to follow him inside, and the door closes with a whoosh behind you as you enter the classroom. While the professor, Keiji Akaashi from what you can read off his nameplate, takes his seat at his large wooden desk, you peruse the space around you. 

        Students are chattering about in the lecture hall. Some are gathered in large clumps peering down at phones and giggling, while others are alone with headphones on, relaxing before the first class of the day. Sakura foolishly attempts to seat you both at the bottom row, closest to the teacher’s desk. Although you appreciated her reasoning, something always drew you to the back of the classroom, the very end of the space. Normally, what led you to covet this mostly hidden area in the dimmer part of the luminescent room was the idea of solitude and sparement from cheating, but today it was something more. 

        There was a boy, yes another one, lounged in the farthest row. With feet kicked up and crossed one over the other on his table space, he leaned back and watched you just as you watched him. His arms were folded behind his head while he served you a smug smirk, running a slow hand through his dark bedhead before waving teasingly at you. The cheeky act made you squeak in surprise, then a sudden growl rumbled around the room. 

        “Ms. YLN, please find a seat. Preferably one where you won’t be distracted.” Mr. Akaashi grumbled, observing you with narrowed eyes. 

        “Yes sir.” With a frantic nod, you dash up the steps to the last row of desks and plop down in one, Sakura long forgotten in the front row. She’s already made a few friends who seem just as thrilled as her to be in this class, so you weren’t exactly worried. You drop your bag to the floor beside you and pull out your phone to distract from your lonesome, but it doesn’t last long. A warm body approaches you and collapses into the spot right next to you, relaxing back into the same position you had seen him in two seconds ago. 

        “The name’s Kuroo,” he grins at you, opening only one eye to look you up and down. 

        “I’m YN,” you sputter out, dismissing formalities. “Nice to meet you.”

        “I know,” Kuroo simpers, and you can’t help but scoff at his response. The confidence he oozes is contagious, and so is the smirk he wears. 

        “Oh wow,” you laugh with a nod, “all right, smooth guy, calm it down.”

        “What,” he raises a brow playfully, “is it not nice to meet me?” 

        You bite your lip and shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, I don’t know,” you slump down into your chair and mock his posture, kicking your legs up onto the desk and crossing your arms, “you tell me.” 

        Your desk buddy cackles at this and you giggle with him. His laughter is just as infectious as his attitude. In your head, you knew this was going to bloom into a fun friendship-

        “YLN, Kuroo! Class is about to begin, so settle down!” Mr. Akaashi looks like he is about to blow steam out his ears, and his jaw twitches while snarling at you two. The sight sobers you right up, and you hurriedly sit straight up at your desk while muttering an apology. 

        For the rest of the period, Kuroo whispers the occasional joke into your ear that makes you want to crack up, but you’ve already had enough of your teacher’s scowl to know that would be dangerously thin ice. It ends with Mr. Akaashi dismissing you all and handing out a rubric for your first assignment as people exit the doorway. As you scramble to gather your notes and pens for your backpack, your new friend stays behind to keep you company. 

        “I’m telling you, YN, you’re only gonna cry at the end if you watch it!” Kuroo insists while handing you a textbook. 

        “Why would I?”

        “Because they shoot the dog!” You pout at him sadly while he furrows his brows and starts to continue. “At least, you really shouldn’t watch it alone.” 

        “Mhm.” He follows you down the steps of the lecture hall and to the doorway where Mr. Akaashi waits with a withering glare. 

        “Maybe we could-”

        “YN,” your professor interrupts with a blank stare, handing you a paper. His long, roughened fingers brush your own as he does and the touch leaves a spark, “have a good day. Mr. Kuroo,” he directs his darkening gaze to your chatterbox companion and slowly bares his teeth. “A word, please.”

        The door slams behind you thunderously as you stumble out into the hall from the force. 

        “What the hell was that all about?” you grumble, hiking your bag higher up your shoulder before leaving the university building. 

                                ~~~

        The diner was never as wonderful as you wanted, but it paid the bills. Of course, there were always the usual creeps, who showed up at around five, and then there were the occasional newbie creeps, who always shot their shot while they had the chance. Thankfully, and you suppose not-so thankfully, you weren’t the prettiest girl on the job.

        Although they paid you mostly to drop enough dignity to wear a short skirt with an apron, you weren’t the one with the most assets to flaunt. That job was also incidentally how you met Sakura, who had plenty to show off. You had become good friends when you had the same shifts, but you had become great friends when you helped her fend off a fresh pedophile from out of town. 

        Since then, she stuck to you like white on rice whenever you clocked in, and always jabbered about the most important things in life when you had time to talk. Today’s topic: the hot, new teacher.

        “Oh my God, YN, you should have seen the way he looked at me!” She bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut excitedly, wiggling with happiness. A miniature wave of jealousy flowed through your veins at her words, but it was gone before you could question it. 

        “Really?”

        “Yes! God, he has the most beautiful eyes!” She sighed dreamily while wiping down the counter. “And that hair! Ugh, don’t you just wanna run your fingers through it?” Yes.

        “Umm, sure.” You pick up the stray menus while nodding distractedly. 

        “And don’t even get me started on his smile. He has the most amazing teeth! Did you see his teeth?!” 

        “Yep.” 

        “Oh, don’t you think he has just the most wonderful-” The bells along the top of the restaurant’s entrance chime, signalling a new visitor, and you don’t wait to scramble away from Sakura. 

        “Welcome to-” Oh.

        It’s the man from earlier, from before your class, except this time he’s missing his mask. Judging by his reaction, you’re guessing he heard your slight gasp. Even from behind the counter, you can see his blinding smile, and the almost sharp teeth that come along with it. 

        “Hey YN!” he waves and takes the stool directly in front of your awestruck form. 

        “H-hi.” Your meek response makes you grow many shades of red from your neck all the way up to your hair. With a gawking mouth, you blindly feel for a menu and lay it in front of him. 

        “Thanks!” 

        “Yeah.” Your breathing falters at the wink he throws you before scrutinizing the laminated pages before him for his dinner. It only takes a few more minutes of awkwardly gaping at him before a realization hits you. 

        “Wait!” you announce loudly, capturing the attention of the whole diner. The room silences and you tense with wide eyes before waving your hands dismissively to return the patrons to their normal chatter. It’s not quite as pleasant and rowdy as before, but it’s enough to please you. Returning your gaze to the wild haired man from before, you flinch to see he’s already watching you like a hawk. Or maybe like an owl, according to his hyper focused, expectant stare. 

        This time, you make sure to lower your voice as you whisper, “How do you know my name?” The man before you stiffens and his Adam’s apple bobs. 

        “Umm, I… I…” he avoids your eyes as his own dart around the diner nervously. “I heard your friend say it!” he exclaims with an assured nod. “Yes, yes I heard your friend say it.” He points at Sakura who is chasing down a customer’s toddler running rampant around the other tables and chairs. 

        “Okay,” you nod slowly, still scrutinizing his face with narrowed eyes, “I guess that makes sense.” 

        “Yep.” He grins complacently at you before dropping his face down onto the menu again. 

        “All right,” you repeat, bobbing your head still. “All right, so if you get to know my name, doesn’t that mean I get to know yours?” 

        “Yes!” His eyes sparkle with happiness as he practically breaks his neck to face you in a split second. “My name is Koutarou Bokuto!” He shoves a hand over the counter and you gingerly accept it, shaking it politely with your own. It causes more fireworks along your nerve endings and forces a slight huff out of you. 

        “Nice to meet you, Bokuto.” A small smile had crept onto your face during the handshake, and your gaze on him softens. 

        “Aww, c’mon, call me Koutarou!” He pouts and shoves his chin into his hand, slamming his elbow down onto the counter indignantly. You disguise a giggle behind your fingers and his dramatic facial expression lets up a bit. 

        “No way, we don’t know each other enough,” you laugh, pulling the notebook and pen out of your apron. “Now do you want to hear the specials?”

        “From you? Hell yeah!”

                                ~~~

        A couple weeks have passed since your first class, and within that time you seemed to have become a teacher’s pet. Apparently, according to Mr. Akaashi, you were the only student who actually tried or paid attention in his class. At a certain point, you wanted to correct and reassure him that no, you barely paid attention, you just really liked English and studied on your own time. But as time went on, you began to appreciate his comments on your abilities. Plus, you supposed he wasn’t exactly wrong; most people were either entranced by your professor himself or stuck in a daze while staring outside the convenient, twenty-foot high classroom windows. They were quite the aesthetic, which also made them a conducive distraction. 

        In this spanse of time, you had also received more visits from Bokuto at the diner, and you spent more time out of the classroom with Kuroo. Through those hours with them, you grew closer to both, each of them gaining the title as your friend. Lately, however, a large majority of your time was spent helping Mr. Akaashi grade papers. He had inquired you a while ago to become his student assistant, and you didn’t mind helping out. 

        When he had asked, though, was when you lost favor with just about everyone in your class. 

        “YN, could you come down here for a second?” He had just dismissed them all, and singled you out just as you began to pack your things. With a curious glance from Kuroo, you shrugged and trudged down the steps, nervously standing in front of his neatly-organized desk while students filtered out behind you. 

        “Bitch.”

        “Attention whore.”

        “What a slut.”

        You glowered at the names and slumped your shoulder, practically hugging your bag like a safety blanket at this point. Mr. Akaashi only rose from his chair and slammed the door closed after them angrily, Kuroo being one of the last to leave. 

        “I’m sorry about that.” You take in a breath and wave your hand dismissively. 

        “No, no, it’s okay. People are just stupid.” Akaashi purses his lips and nods at your words, but a muscle in his jaw twitches nonetheless.

        “All right,” he sighs, standing across from you and placing his hands on his hips. The action causes his suit jacket to shift back and the front of his pristine, white undershirt to tighten against his chest, showing off its toned muscles. You swallow at the sight and unwillingly drag your gaze back up to his. For just a second his eyes darken, but you blame it on the lighting, no matter how stable it is. 

        “Anyways,” he continues gruffly, “I wanted to congratulate you. You did well on the last assignment, and I’m proud of you.” His praise shoots deep into your stomach and you bite your lip to fight off a full-blown grin. 

        “Oh, um thanks.” You were flattered mostly, but a small part of you would mourn the way your classmates used to ignore your existence. 

        “Of course. I can also tell, by your assignments, that you’re quite ahead of the others.” God, he just never stopped. The apples of your cheeks were Rudolph red at this point. “And I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me grade some of the others’ papers if you have the time.” 

        The proposition made you pause at first. He later explained that it would only be a few hours a week after school just around the time the sun began to set, and that he would really appreciate the help. 

        … Who were you to say no? 

                                ~~~

        You should have said no. 

        In some weird way, you enjoyed scrutinizing the stupidity of your peers. Especially after the assholeish way they had been treating you recently. Even Kuroo’s essays on topics that weren’t even assigned were fun to read, as he usually would type up a five-page rant about why a certain cartoon character was an idiot, instead of about why Romeo and Juliet killed themselves. 

        However, there was a small factor in the process of helping Mr. Akaashi that you had accidentally mulled over. 

        He was hot.

        Already, there was nothing more distracting than your hot professor sitting across from you at his desk with his overcoat abandoned and his sleeve shirts rolled up to display his impressive forearm muscles. No, he made it worse, because this bastard forgot to mention he wore glasses. 

        Every few minutes, he would feel your gaze on him and glance up at you over the frames with a small smirk. The minuscule act was devastating on your focus. 

        Today was no different, although, something weird had happened. You had mistakenly walked in on him arguing over the phone with someone. 

        “You’re too stupid to be in my class. Plus, that dumbass cat is in it, and I know you won’t be able to hold yourself back around him.” Mr. Akaashi hissed into his phone. You couldn’t exactly hear the person on the other side, but something about their tone seemed… familiar. After that, he had spotted you and quickly hung up. 

        Now, you sat across from him at his desk with a chair you had pulled over from the corner of the classroom, and yawned behind your hand while reading a fellow classmate’s essay. 

        “YN?” He slowly set down the paper he had been marking with a red pen and peeked at his watch. “It is a little later than when we normally finish. Would you like me to walk you home?” 

        The offer was tempting, and although you did have self-control, your professor was really pushing it with those glasses. 

        “No, I’ll be okay.” You stand up and grab your bag, smiling shyly when he helps you put on your coat. “Thank you,” you mumble.

        “Of course.” A twinge of happiness leaks into his voice behind you and you have to glance back to make sure it’s still the same guy. He’s not grinning abnormally like you expected, but something akin to excitement glows in his eyes. 

        “Okay,” you rush out, a little flustered by his bizarre display of emotion. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” With a wave over your shoulder, you don’t even dare to look back, too afraid that you might hop on him like a wolf in heat. Something about Mr. Akaashi always made you want to stay longer than necessary, but you never did. Damn self-control.

        The sun had set hours ago, you could tell that by the way that you couldn’t even see your own feet. 

        “Goddamnit,” you groan, snatching your phone out of your pocket and turning on the flashlight. It was about a half a mile walk to your apartment, and you weren’t sure if your thirty percent battery could handle it. 

        “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss. Not only was it dark, it was also freezing, and you puff warm air on your fingers to fend off the cold. The streetlamps on the campus sidewalk buzzed and stirred with moths. A particularly cold wind nipped at your nose and threw your hair into your face. You could only spit it out with a “plugh” while you hugged yourself tighter. Crickets chirped and signalled they were the only sign of life in the area. Well, except for whatever had just snapped that twig behind you. 

        “Who’s there?” you yelped, whipping around and flaunting your flashlight in front of you. Nothing responded, and all you could see on the frosted concrete was a broken, wooden stick. There wasn’t even a footstep. By now, your whole body was trembling from fear and cold, but you kept on your way, speeding up your pace to a power walk while hastily trying to not trip over something as well. 

        A shiver rolled up your spine as a familiar feeling returned. Someone was watching you. Their gaze was tangible, like two fingertips jabbing against the back of your head. The hair on the back of your neck stood at attention as you started to jog, dismissing the possibility of a fall. 

        Adrenaline rushed through your body and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, along with the heavy breathing of someone behind you. Oh shit! 

        They were right on your tail, and you sped up into a sprint for your life. The flashlight on your phone flickered, then flickered some more when you smacked it with a frustrated “C’mon!” before finally turning off completely. 

        The university’s street lamps were long gone, as tonight you had chosen for a quicker back way so you could get to sleep earlier. Damn your need for beauty rest. 

        Your lungs pleaded for air as your legs burned. They wiggled from underneath you, now only fueled by your fight or flight hormone, and right now you were flying.  

        And then you weren’t. 

        With a horrified screech, you tripped over a stray rock on the concrete and tumbled into the grass near the sidewalk. Your stalker let out a small chuckle and straddled your screaming form. 

        “Help! Oh God, help me! Help m-mmpf!” A cloth slammed over your nostrils and mouth, and in your panicked state, you breathed. You couldn’t see the man above you, only a faint form of him, but you could tell from his weight that he was big. Well, not big. Muscular. 

        “Sshh, YN, we need to take care of you now. Just breathe it in, then we can take care of you forever.” 

        Tears pricked your eyes as you let out more muffled screams. Your heart was in a frenzied panic, and skipped a beat when your head began to grow woozy. 

        “Good job, YN.” Oh God. “You’re doing so well, darling. Just you wait.” Was that… “We’ll take care of you, and we’ll love you forever. Just like the old days.” Bokuto. 

        You were so tired, so very tired. You just wanted to sleep, to close your eyes. 

        So you did. 

                                ~~~

        Pain overtook the sides of your brain as you woke up. With a pained groan, you peeled one eye open, then another before glancing around. The room was relatively large, and you observed your surroundings as you sat up off a wood floor, wrapped only in a blanket and sitting on three couch cushions with a matching pillow. 

        The first thing you noticed was that you were in a cage. Metal bars surrounded you and grouped together so tightly you could barely fit your full forearm through. There was only about a foot of space left around your makeshift mattress, and the metal bars led all the way to the ceiling. A lockspace for a key was directly in front of you, and past it was a door to the entire room. To your left was a couch, de-cushioned for your benefit, and to your right was a TV, softly playing the day’s weather forecast. Behind you, there was a window, with the curtains pulled back to show a forest, the sky, and nothing more. Birds chirped from outside, signalling that morning had just started. 

        “What?” you whispered brokenly, scratching your already abused throat from yesterday’s screaming match. 

        “YN?” The door opened, and in an instant you stood and crashed forwards into the metal bars, reaching for whoever it was. “YN, are you awake? I brought you breakfast.” 

        The voice triggers a pain in the side of your neck, and you hiss while pressing your fingers against it. Then you whimper at the feeling. 

        There, on the side of your neck, equally away from your collar bone and your ear, were two scabbed puncture wounds about the size of pencil eraser tips. 

        “Oh my God,” you whisper, trembling with fear and pain. “What did you do to me?”

        “Good morning, my love,” Akaashi purses his lips and draws closer with a metal tray. It holds plates with pancakes, sausage, eggs, and anything else for breakfast that would normally make you drool. It’s well-made too, but too bad you feel more like hurling than anything else. 

        He sets it down and nudges it under a small space between the cell bars and the floor, just barely making it untouched into your cage. “My apologies,” he soothes with a gesture to your neck, “sometimes Bokuto just can’t help himself around you. I assure you he only tasted a drop though.” 

        With a strangled sob, you fall back to the ground and cup a hand around your bruised neck, weeping silently and hugging your knees into your chest for comfort. The sudden action causes Akaashi to jump, slamming up against your cell and clenching the bars with wide eyes. 

        “My love? Are you okay?” The door slams open behind him.

        “Well, is she awake?” The sight of him makes you moan in despair while tucking your face into your legs. Another clang against your cage is heard and you peer up to see Bokuto grabbing the bars as well, watching you with fearful eyes. 

        “What did you do to me?” you hiss angrily, tears oddly drying up in an instant. Your bloodshot eyes remain as you bare your teeth, and rage takes over you. The petrified state has passed and you’ve moved onto the next level. 

        “What the hell did you do to me?!” you shout, still pressing a hand against your neck. As if that could eliminate the mark he left. 

        Bokuto huffs and puts on a small pout, pressing his face dangerously close to the bars as he whines. “I’m so sorry, YN, I just couldn’t help myself! Next time, I promise I’ll wait until you let me!” His words ignite a flame in your chest. Your emotions are so up the roof in this moment that each one takes over on a whim.

        “‘Next time’?! ‘Let me’?!” You stand and charge the bars, reaching out to strangle both nutjobs only to smirk when they step back hastily. “I’m gonna kill you motherfuckers!”

        Both men stay silent and observe you hesitantly. Akaashi wonders if you might just go batshit enough to break out of the cage. Bokuto wonders how soon he will be able to get a taste of you again. After all, this time you taste even better than all your past reincarnates combined. It’s addicting.

        You wonder- oh fuck it.

        “Where the hell am I?!”

Masterlist  Next