Hiya Can You Do Tsukishima Crushing On Sugawara Younger Sister Who Is In The Same Year And Class As Him

Misery Loves Company (Garou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Garou was falling for you, ever so slowly. It only takes a small bath with you for this to settle in. 

A/N: I thought I tried to make it pretty cute, but it ended up a little too meaningful to be fluffy. Nonetheless, thanks for all the love recently, and sorry I haven’t been writing as much! I truly am grateful you guys, anyone on here who is supporting me, so thank you. Please enjoy!

Word count: 1867

        The chair was uncomfortably hard, but every time Garou mentioned that, the nastiest stink eye was thrown his way, courtesy of you. 

       “If you don’t like it so much, then don’t come crawling to me next time you rub blood into your hair.” You were right, it was a bad habit of his. Your hands were stained orange as you combed through his paling strands. His neck was growing stiff too from leaning back into your sink, but he was too afraid of your reaction to mention it. Besides, he was rather occupied purring at the way you gently massaged your shampoo onto his head. 

       “Is that,” Garou sniffs the air scrutinizingly, “strawberry scented?”

       “My home, my shampoo.”

       “Right,” he nodded, pressing his lips together to prevent you from stopping the ministrations. Your bathroom was quiet aside from the sound of the sink running and the soap bubbling. The light on your ceiling was slowly burning through Garou’s closed eyelids, but he could care less. Right now, he was too focused on keeping his breaths light and soundless. He didn’t want you to notice how much your nails gently scratching on his scalp affected him. At first, the silver-haired man thought you were simply focused on the matter at hand, until….

       “Garou,” your fingers paused momentarily, and he had to hold back a whine, “you’re gonna get seriously hurt one of these days.” You were concerned. You, a regular, powerless human, were concerned over him, the Hero Hunter. God, you were perfect.

       “I can handle myself, YN.” His golden eyes flashed open and observed your face smugly while his mouth grew into a lopsided grin. You tensed and subconsciously tugged at his strands, causing him to hiss. To avoid his strong gaze, you turned your head away, flushing and nervously nibbling on your bottom lip. He was always able to get past your walls and under your skin, and that fact infuriated you. Sort of.

       “What if you die, what then?” You regained the strength to argue. “I’m not some… revivaler who can raise you from the dead!” Anxious to move, you quickly massage your fingers back into his now-clean hair, biting your tongue when he groaned silently at the sensation.

       “I think the word you're looking for is necromancer-”

       “Shut it.” He snickered, but kept silent otherwise. While you cupped your hands and collected water to wash his hair with, Garou lost himself in his thoughts. Ever since the beginning, when he had first met you, you were always worried for him. You knew he was a wanted criminal, and a powerful, almost unstoppable fighter, but you still cared for him. It was new for the young man, but he enjoyed it. He reveled in the tender way you treated him, as though he wasn’t as dangerous as the world thought. You were wrong on that end of course, but that wasn’t the point. You were just so…

       “I’m done,” you announced suddenly, turning off the faucet and handing him a small towel for his freshly-washed, strawberry-scented hair. Hesitantly, he sat up and began to rub his scalp, only to yelp at a new twinge in his side. Garou was shirtless, so he could easily see where he had just reopened a fresh laceration courtesy of the last hero he fought. 

       “You okay?” 

       “Of course. I’ll be fine.” It was the truth, but you never bought it until the wound was nothing but healed-over skin. Scoffing, you started the water in the bathtub.

       “You need to clean your injuries. Strip.” The blunt statement flew over your head completely until your criminal companion had something to say about it. 

       “Wow YN, I’m glad you finally came to your senses,” he teased. You almost choked on the oxygen in your lungs while you attempted to whip out an excuse, but it was too late. After you turned around to correct yourself, Garou approached you, shamelessly naked and utterly self-satisfied. Every outline, indent, and vein screamed at you to stop and stare, but you were stronger than your urges. For once in your life. 

       “Just get in the tub.” Your back faced him and your heart stuttered when you felt his presence beside you. The hot water dribbled over the edge as Garou sank into the porcelain, his jaw clenched at the feeling of every scratch on his body stinging in pain. He thought he hid it well, but you peeked over your shoulder in unease at his complete silence. If he was not hurting, he would be throwing suggestive offers your way. The sight of his bareness made you blush, but his snarl made you more concerned than anything. 

       “I know it hurts, but your wounds will heal faster, I promise,” you assured him softly, kneeling beside the tub with your hands on the edge. Once again, Garou’s heart skipped at your words. You actually gave a damn if he was injured from a battle with a do-gooder. What more could he ask for? Slowly, the young man’s body loses tension as he sinks lower into the water, pleased with the feeling of your eyes watching his every move worriedly. His own glowing orbs flicker open and meet yours in an instant. 

       “Join me.” Your jaw almost dropped through the floor. “Please.” Maybe he got a concussion from the fight, because his whole demeanor had changed in an instant. His eyes weren’t suggestive or hungry, and his brows didn’t quirk up like they normally would. Instead, he was sincere and almost desperate while his arms rose out of the water in offering of an embrace. You followed the droplets that trailed down his biceps, lucky bastards, and returned to the rest of the bath. 

       You liked him too, you always have. You wanted him too. Even though he could drag you into some deep shit if anyone ever found out he was in your house, you actually wanted to be with him. He held values and beliefs that defied many others, and his strength to deny society’s will interested you, not to mention small moments like these. You both liked each other, and you knew it too. You sucked with words though, so you figured this action could make up for your vocal slack. 

       “Don’t look,” you declared softly, and he nodded understandingly, ducking his drying head while his arms remained up in the air enticingly. The sound of clothing hitting the floor almost made him deny your wish, but he didn’t. Not even a peek. Go him. 

       Just as your foot dipped into the water, however, he stretched up and tugged you into his chest, water splashing everywhere. You squealed in surprise and he chuckled playfully, pulling your exposed figure impossibly closer. “Stop, I’m laying on your bruises! I don’t want to make them worse!” He ignores your exclamation and settles his chin on your shoulder. His hands mindlessly draw small patterns on your stomach. Tingles flow from every shape he creates but you don’t say a word; you only tightening your thighs closer together while your breathing stutters.

       “I don’t care, I don’t want you to see my hair when it’s down.” Garou notices how you relax at the playful response, and he’s glad. He loves when you’re flustered around him, but he would hate if you tried to close yourself off now, while you’re completely bare-skinned with him in a tub. The glowing in his chest almost bursts out with pride when you laugh easily, and he preens when your muscles relax into his own. 

       “You don’t think it’s a little too late for that?” Your head leans back to rest on his own shoulder and you begin to play with the bubbles on the water’s surface lazily. He smiles at the act.

       “I was hoping you were too charmed by my big, strong muscles to notice,” he shrugs, ever so slowly reaching up and running a hand along your right arm. You smile while continuing to collect and blow away the suds. 

       “Mmhmm, well they are pretty distracting,” you pat his cheek next to your head reassuringly, “but they definitely aren’t that distracting.” 

       “What’s that supposed to mean?!” You giggle and his movement halts at your wrist, caressing the skin there as he holds your hand against his warm jawline.

       “I’m just wondering how much hair gel you use in a week.” He pinches your side at the jab and you let out an adorable squeak- God, he was whipped.

       He was almost positive he began falling for you when you first met.

                               ***

       “Is it too tight?” You stared into his eyes with concern. Who the hell is this girl? After having passed out on the street post-brawl, he woke up in a strange apartment. Later, you approached his side, handed him a sandwich to eat and began to wrap his wounds in tape, all while he kept asking you the same question. 

       “Why?” Why did you care if he was hurting? Why did you not call the cops when you first recognized him? Why did you seem to care about him, the monstrous Hero Hunter? Throughout the span of time you worked, he kept eyeing the window over your shoulder. A clean escape. But you were a curious one, different enough to make him stay. 

       “Everyone has their reasons,” you muttered. Your deep eyes stared into his own, strong and intimidating, while your words rattled his brain. You listened to his side of the story after that. You sympathized with him, comforted him, understood him. You made him feel like he wasn’t alone that day. Thank God he didn’t jump out that window when he had a chance. What a mistake that would have been. Now, he had you.

                               ***

       Unable to hold back any longer, Garou carefully pressed a kiss against your shoulder, his grip on your wrist tightening after you gasp. He didn’t stop there. You gulped as he trailed his lips all the way up your throat and ended just under your ear. 

       “I think I love you,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear. He didn’t know for sure. No one had ever treated him the way you did, but he didn’t want to scare you away either. But as you took a deep breath and responded, his heart warned him that his assumption was correct.

       “I think I love you too.” Your face grew red at your own words, and you were frustrated with yourself at how bashful you suddenly became. Meanwhile, your hands subconsciously gripped his own comfortingly, and he beamed against the side of your face happily. 

       You never wanted him to change, and you accepted him for him. You didn’t want him to stop being himself, or become something he wasn’t. You just cared about him, loved him for what he was. And suddenly, he didn’t feel so alone anymore. 

If It Ain’t Broke (Bokuto x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You broke up with Bokuto for a good reason. At least, what you thought was a good reason. But right now you can’t help but miss him terribly, and according to Akaashi, he’s feeling the exact same. But did you really break him like his friend said?

A/N: Did y’all know Bokuto is 6’1”? God, he’s a fucking dreamboat. How some people don’t like his beefy ass, I will never know. I’m just gonna warn y’all now, this is only well-written bc I had my cat by my side literally the whole time I wrote this. He’s given off fuckin’ good-writing vibes, I swear. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 2299

        “Fix him.” You flinch as a palm slams down on your desk, crumpling your assignment. Unimpressed, you raise a brow. 

        “Excuse me?” With a glance --- Akaashi --- you huff and turn to face the intruder.

        “Fix him. You broke him.”

        “Broke who?”

        “Bokuto!” Your classmate’s sudden outburst is unlike his usual, aloof self as he throws his hands in the air. “I can’t remember the last time he hit one of my sets after you talked to him.”

        “Maybe that’s not my problem,” you snicker. 

        “Oh hardy har har.” He rolls his eyes before lowering himself to your level. “Just fix him. We have a game coming up and our team can’t handle another depressed Bokuto phase. We almost lost the last one because of him.” 

        You wanted to make another snide comment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. After breaking up with your owl-haired boyfriend, every sighting of him, even the mention of his name pained your heart. One time, you had spotted him at the same time he noticed you in the hall and he only whimpered before sprinting in the opposite direction. Most of the time, you regretted ending things, but you had to respect your own feelings. Although maybe, just maybe this once you could do the boys’ volleyball team a solid. 

        “Fine,” you avoided his gaze and fiddled with your hands. “I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect it to make everything all sunshine and rainbows afterwards!” 

        “C’mon YN,” he smirks at you, “we both know that’ll be inevitable.” 

        That smug bastard was always right.

                                ~~~

        You attended their practice that night, attempting to sit in the corner discreetly but that plan didn’t pan out. The second Bokuto walked through the gym doors it was like he caught a whiff of your scent. Some kind of animal instincts inside of him awakened as his eyes darted around the room, quickly spotting you with your legs splayed out as you tapped away on your phone against the wall. Not a sound of acknowledgement was made, but the impact of your presence was instantaneous. 

        Like a true captain, he took charge of his team right off the bat, even though practice wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes. 

        “Time for stretching, boys!” 

        “Bokuto, nobody’s dressed yet.”

        “Then hurry up!” 

        Every jump was a tad higher, every spike a tad harder, and near the middle of practice Akaashi gave you a pointed look. 

        ‘I told you so,’ he mouthed while dodging a stray volleyball of Bokuto’s. Your middle finger was raring to go, but you held back with much personal restraint. There was no way your ex was this pumped only at the sight of you- oh wait, this is Bokuto. Nevermind. 

        “Akaashi, set me up one more time!” The ace’s eyes strayed to you for a split second before he ran up and jumped, rearing back and spiking the ball so intensely you shivered at the sound. How did it not pop after that? It was his hardest hit yet, and a miniscule ounce of pride warmed your chest when Bokuto turned and grinned at you. 

        “Hey, hey, hey!” he fist-pumped, returning his attention to his team. For the last thirty minutes of practice, they decided to work on serves, and the outcome was just the same. 

        The hair on the back of your neck raised as you watched his bulky form take a couple purposeful steps before smack! The ball whistled through the air and landed perfectly in the corner of the court, blasting the water bottle away like a rocket into a forgotten area of the gym. His signature shout was interrupted by a sudden voice by your side. 

        “He hasn’t been like this in weeks,” Akaashi squatted next to you, taking a sip from his water. “I don’t understand how you got him so hyped up, but I’m glad.” He glances away from the court and watches your face from the corner of his eye, flashing you a small smile. “I’m glad you came today. We needed this.” 

        “I just came to watch, nothing more.”

        “We both know that’s a lie.” He quirks a brow at your slightly flushed face. “Just talk to him this time, okay? He’s not-”

        “Akaashi!” Bokuto orders from the far benches, “Come set for me again!” His voice is more demanding than usual, and his eyes burn with jealousy. The setter only chuckles under his breath at the sight of the green-eyed monster, and stands to face him. 

        “I will,” you grab his hand to halt him and stare into his eyes, nodding with certainty, “I promise. I’ll talk to him.”

        “AKAASHI!” You both jump at the abrupt, irritable shout. Frantically, the setter nods back at you and wriggles his hand out of your grasp before jogging away, visibly shaken. With a gulp, you dare to peek over at the court, only to nervously shift on the floor after making eye contact with Bokuto. His orbs, normally yellow and glowing with excitement, are dark and pouring with envy. Pursing your lips, you can’t help but slump a little lower against the gym wall, hesitantly trying to hide yourself from the palpable heat that rolls off him in waves. 

                                ~~~

        Practice ended quicker and louder than you imagined. Everything the ball made contact with-- Bokuto’s hand, the floor, that one door that flew open after impact-- it all created a sound that boomed and echoed around the room. Akaashi decided to call it quits after the door almost blew off its hinges. 

        Bokuto silently picked up stray volleyballs and loaded them up in the basket before wheeling them into the storage room. It was around this time that the co-captain of the team gave you the signal. With about four or five frenzied head nods towards the private closet, you finally caught his drift and made your way over. 

        The stench of sweat made you nauseous, but you powered through as you walked nearer to the boys, ignoring how their chatter had subsided when you shuffled past them. 

        The room was dark and dusty, with the only light coming from the outside. Bokuto perked up at the sound of your tennis shoes squeaking against the mopped floor. He parks the bucket of balls in an unlit corner next to some brooms before facing you.

        “You came today. I was surprised.” His voice is wobbly and uncertain, and you’re shocked to finally notice just how ruffled he appeared. The normally wild hair atop his head sat in drooping grey and black tufts, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He flashes a small smile at you, but it’s forced and trembling. He was coming off the high of you watching him practice just like the old days, and he’s regretablly remembering that the old days have passed. You broke up with him. 

        “Yeah, I did.” You sway back and forth on your feet while twiddling your thumbs. Pursing your lips, you take a hesitant step closer and say, “I thought you did great, by the way.”

        The life returns to his eyes for a split second, but it disappears just as fast. “Thank you,” he mumbles. The room returns to a deafening silence, and you bite the inside of your cheek to pass the time. 

        “Why,” he pipes up once more, killing the quiet. “Why did we have to break up again?” His arms hang limply at his sides while his feet scuff the floor. He didn’t dare to look you in the eyes at the moment, and you understood the feeling. The atmosphere was tense and choked up, like a glass teetering precariously on the edge of a table. One wrong move and everything would shatter. 

        “Because,” you force out, breathing shakily, “you just… you just never had enough time for me.”

        “But I do now!” The cup falls. Everything breaks. 

        “Do you?” you whimper, pressing a hand against your lips to contain a sob. He steps closer instinctively, eyes watering at the sight of your walls collapsing.

        “I do, I swear!” His rough hands grab your shoulders and yank you closer. His golden orbs search your face one, two, three times before he leans closer. “I promise, YN! Please, I promise!” His strong fingers trail down and grasp your wrists, tugging you into his chest while he pulls your arms around his back, free of their own volition. You don’t deny his needs and melt into the embrace, shedding a few stray tears into his shirt which you clutch tightly.  

        “I promise,” he whispers once more into your hair, wrapping his own muscular arms around your shaky form. “I don’t want to be without you ever again.” His voice trembles against your ear, and you begin to notice just how much your body missed his own. You fit perfectly against his chest, and his warmth makes you feel just right. Your heart races in a good way, and the pit of your stomach fills with a joy only he can provide effortlessly. You were made for each other, and you were perfect for each other. 

        Oh shit… you were perfect for each other. 

        “Okay,” you whisper, nodding into his shirt. “Okay, let’s give it another shot.” The reaction is instantaneous. 

        “Hey, hey, hey!” he whoops victoriously into your ear, hugging just tight enough that the only sound you can muster is a wheeze. You hang on for dear life when he lifts you up and spins you around while cheering even louder.

        The atmosphere of the room grows ten times softer and brighter thanks to his beaming, and his hands trail down to the backs of your thighs and tap twice. You understand and hop with complete faith that he will catch you, and you will continue to do that until he drops you one day, which is highly unlikely. In a seasoned fashion, you wrap your legs around his waist and wind your arms around his neck for stability. He settles his hands under the tips of your thighs and stares up at you like you’re the light of his life. You wouldn’t mind if he kept doing that forever. 

        “I missed you so much,” he admits, completely unashamed. You can’t contain your smile, even though your cheeks are a bit puffy from your breakdown earlier, and your eyes crease at the corners. 

        “I missed you too.” 

        “I won’t leave you alone ever again. I swear!” You giggle and run your hands behind his neck and into his nape, just barely brushing through his hair.

        “Okay,” you nod happily and stroke his peppered tufts. “I’ll hold you to that.”

                                ~~~

        A body crashes into the desk next to yours, but you don’t pay it any mind. 

        “Whatcha doin’?” The voice is playful and overjoyed, ecstatic even. 

        “Homework.” Your response is the opposite. 

        “Awesome!” Bokuto cheers, grabbing the attention of the rest of the class. While you palm your face, he loudly scooches his chair closer, ignorant to the noisy squeaks it causes. The racket finally stops when he deems himself an appropriate distance from you, which just so happens to be a roomy six inches. The only thing more palpable than his presence is the warm breaths hitting your neck. 

        “It’s homework.” 

        “I know, but you’re doing it, so it must be amazing!” You didn’t know whether to smack him silly or kiss his lips off. Neither idea seemed more desirable at the moment.

        He’s practically bouncing in his seat beside you while his head plops down onto your shoulder. 

        “I think x equals six,” he points down on your paper, chin bobbing on your collarbone with every syllable. 

        “X equals two.”

        “Oh.” 

        His grin doesn’t falter even once while he basks in your less-than-satisfied presence. You’re about to blow your top, and you just can’t take it any longer. 

        “What are you doing here, Koutarou?”

        “I’m spending more time with you like you wanted!” You sigh exasperatedly and glance up at the ceiling.

        “Kou, I meant more like after-school stuff! This,” you turn in your seat and gesture to him, “you sneaking into my class to visit while my teacher’s in the bathroom?” You shake your head. “It’s a bit excessive.”

        He throws you a whiny pout at puppy dog eyes.

        “But I wanted to see you!” Your hardened exterior cracks just a bit. God, he was an irresistible, beefy pain in the ass. With a huff, you cup his cheeks and peer into his sparkling eyes.

        “I know,” you smile reassuringly, “I wanted to see you too. But you need to go back before-”

        “Bokuto!” Your teacher stands in the doorway with folded arms and a tapping shoe. “Please return to your classroom right now!” Your boyfriend chuckles at the sight and spins up out of his seat.

        “Oops, gotta go babe!” He presses a swift kiss to your lips that rattles your brain and widens your eyes. With a breathless gasp, you watch as he dashes out of the room with a cheeky grin, waving excitedly on the way.

        “At least he’s fixed now.” Akaashi reclaims his chair and sits at his desk beside yours, observing as the class door closes with a slam. The teacher shakes his head and rubs his temples while returning to the front of the class, shuffling a stack of papers. 

        You, on the other hand, are still in a daze, slowly running your fingers over your lips to revel in the lasting tingles. Then you break out into a smile. 

        “Yeah. He’s fixed now.”

He Has a Nightmare About Losing You (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Headcanons cuz I be lazy :( Yes, yes, it has indeed been a while. But I hope you guys enjoy these short lil headcanons to make up for my absence!

Word count: 1250

Kozume Kenma: 

After he has the nightmare about you leaving him, he wakes up drenched in sweat.

His first instinct is to call you. He just wants to hear your voice, but…

He doesn’t say a word.

“Hello? Hello, Kenma? Kenma are you there?”

…

Beeeeeep.

This mf hangs up on you. 

The next day, you go to school with dark circles under your eyes, absolutely pissed and a lil worried.

You see him in the halls and he looks like absolute shit. When he sees you, his eyes light up, but he doesn’t make a move.

You have to go to him, and he doesn’t tell you what’s up for twenty minutes. Like you have to rip it straight out of him.

“What happened last night?”

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

… what.

So yeah, you’re sitting in class, smirking while he blank-face asks for his game back. The deal is taken, and he fiddles with his game and avoids your gaze while telling you what happened. 

Your heart breaks when you hear the story, the sadness in his voice chipping away at your resolve. 

“Kenma…” 

He’s never one to ask for physical affection, but he spares you a small glance after you say his name and it speaks volumes.

You wrap your arms around his middle and crush him into your chest, smiling sadly into his school blazer. 

“Next time, just tell me when you’re not okay, okay?”

His arms tighten around you, and his face buries deeper into your shoulder. 

“...Okay.”

Bokuto Koutarou: 

In the same dramatic fashion as his actions, he has a dream about you dying. Via volcano. Nonetheless, this panics him into a wild frenzy. 

It’s three am, and you get a call from your wonderful, loving boyfriend. 

“YN, COME HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Your voice is croaky and you cringe at his volume. “What…?”

“GET OVER HERE SO I CAN MAKE SURE YOU’RE ALIVE!”

Okay, one: you were literally speaking to him right now. And two: just… fuck no.

“Kou, it’s three am. The only reason I’d go over to your house right now is to kick your ass.”

You hang up after, and he tackles you first thing in the halls at school the next day. 

“YOU’RE ALIVE! MOUNT KILIMANJARO DIDN’T KILL YOU!”

You can only groan once again his overkill tone and rub your temples at an oncoming headache. Your face is shoved into his chest as he protectively peeks over your head for any incoming danger.

“That volcano is dormant, Bokuto.”

“AGAAASHEEEEE!”

Don’t worry, you were in a pissy mood now, but later you gave him many reassuring cuddles and kisses to calm him down. 

He made you sleep in his bed for the next three days.

Kuroo Tetsurou:

Kuroo is smoother than most when he has the nightmare. However, much like the others, he calls you.

“Mmm, hello?”

“Hey kitten, what’s up?”

...

“Tetsu… you called me.” 

Yeah, okay, only slightly smoother than sandpaper. But hey, he did his best!

Anyways, he explains his nightmare about you in that drool-worthy, husky morning voice of his. 

You both stay up to talk about it and more for hours, and much like a soothing lullaby, his gruff words eventually lull you to sleep.

“Kitten?”

No response.

“YN, are you awake?”

A soft snore sounds from the other end, and Kuroo can help but smile at his phone. 

“All right, Kitten, sleep well. Good night.” 

He ends the call, but the next day he teases and guilt-trips you for falling asleep on him. 

You have to make it up with lots of hugs and smooches, along with more and more sleepovers at his house, no matter how many times your parents embarrassingly shout at you to “Be safe!” and “Use protection!”

… You do.

Kageyama Tobio: 

The day is bright and beautiful, and birds chirp outside your window to a melodic tune. 

After you feel a poke to your forehead, your eyes tiredly flutter open to find your boyfriend Kageyama watching you like a hawk two inches away from your face. 

“Hey YN.”

“Hey babe…”

Cue awkward silence.

It’s too early for you, so as you try to close your eyes and fall back asleep, Kageyama inches closer to you. 

His gaze stays on your face like an itch you can’t scratch. Finally, after twenty minutes of you scrunching up your face and trying to force sleep, you snap. 

“Tobio, what’s wrong.”

“It’s fine. I’m nothing.”

“Mhmm.” Yeah, as if that would convince you. 

You move your face closer to his, little by little until your nose brushes his own. His lashes flutter closed at the feeling, and he lets out a small hum. 

“Tobio, come on. Tell me what happened.” 

After a sigh, he finally admits he had a nightmare.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he shakes his head, the small tuft of hair on his forehead tickling you. “I just want to lay here with you.”

It was the most romantic thing he had ever said to you throughout your entire relationship aside from “I love you,” so you couldn’t help but give in to his wish. 

You tangled your legs with his own and guided his arms around you. 

While yes, you were mostly in a relationship with Kageyama because of his oh-so endearing attitude, his warm, awkwardly tight snuggles were just an added bonus.

Hinata Shouyou:

Much like the other Karasuno boy, you’re already in his bed when he has a nightmare. 

He imagined you leaving him for someone taller, and woke up with a cry of your name in the middle of the night. 

“YN!” 

He gasped and panted and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, gulping and glancing down at the sight of you. 

You were still knocked out, dead tired from the night’s earlier events. He couldn’t blame you. Even he was a little worn. 

The sight of you was beautiful. Comforting. Your hair was splayed out and tangled, and your bare shoulders peeked out from under the comforter, heavily marked and bruised from his lips. Your face was locked in a state of serenity as you snoozed away in his bed. 

Hinata let his fingers brush along your cheek while he bit back tears at the thought of losing you. 

He eventually gave in to his needs and laid beside you, snaking his arms around your waist and trapping you as close as possible to his own form. 

You woke up to the sound of small whimpers and a wet shoulder. 

“Shouyou?”

He squeaked and pressed his face deeper into your skin. 

“Please don’t leave me, YN. Please.”

Your mind was groggy and the heat radiating off the boy beside you was almost too much, but his broken voice sobered you up in a split second.

“I won’t,” you reassured, running your hands through his sweaty, orange strands. “I will never leave you.” 

“Good.” His tears seemed to slow at the thought, and he pressed a kiss against your bare skin. 

You in his bed was all he needed to recover from that terrible dream. You were his, and he was yours. Hinata knew that fact was undeniable as he hugged you tighter and you smiled at the feeling.

“How about a little pick-me-up?”

Vibrating lightsabers? Heck yeah, count me in but lol, when you said Star Wars AU all I can think of is the Miya twins as Luke and Leia and it gets better, Ushijima and Oikawa doing that "You are the chosen one scene" with "You should have come to Shiratorizawa". OMG xD. Can someone draw me a fanart of that

Agsjhdjsjs yes someone please get on that.

“You should have come to Shiratorizawa”

“I HATE YOU”

And bruh, I’m conflicted on whether Atsumu or Osamu would look better with the hair buns... and the golden bikini🥵

Yandere KageHina x Reader (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Just the one, but I really wanna do more for other pairs like Daichi-Sugawara and such. Not really sure how I feel about this one in general, but I hope y’all like it!

Word count: 1157

Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio:

With ease, these two take up all your attention. 

One minute, Hinata’s trying to show you his improving math grades, and the next, Kageyama’s trying to show off his power serves. 

Neither one leaves you alone for long but as soon as they come together on you, everything turns into a zoo. Kageyama’s shyly holding your hand, purely for the peer pressure of Hinata draping his entire arm around your waist.

Let’s face it--you’re just another contest between them. 

However, as soon as a new boy even looks like he’s trying to come into the picture, they’re gonna scare him away. (This is one of the few times they work together for a common goal--how sweet!)

Hinata will try his best to politely ask the man to leave you alone… but that doesn’t work. So now it’s Kageyama’s turn.

He glares. And then he glares some more. 

All silence. Just glares. 

And then the boy never bothers you again! Really, it’s that easy. 

They’ll never kidnap you unless absolutely necessary, but that really never happens considering they’re already the only men in your life. 

Kageyama’s terribly awkward in showing his affection to you, but Hinata is the complete opposite. The shorter has no shame in tackling you in a hug, while the taller most definitely is terrified of even brushing the hair from your face. 

But Hinata has much to learn too. While Kageyama understands your desire to not stand out, Hinata just loves to show you off to the world!

This includes kisses (bordering on making out) in the middle of class--a huge no-go for you.

All it takes is one “You know she hates that, dumbass!” and Hinata’s learned his lesson, but he’s still antsy to show you off. 

To volleyball games, your attendance is mandatory. Some days they wouldn’t even dare to play if you weren’t there to watch.

They love to see you cheer for them, no matter how much it makes Kageyama blush while Hinata jumps up and down. One successful quick attack and both boys’ gazes search the crowd for you, finding home and waiting for your approval like a pair of puppies.

They’re such good boys.

However, this totally presents a problem the minute you all graduate high school. 

It would be a lie to say they completely hated sharing, but there was still a small rivalry of who would get you once the inevitable split happened. 

Whose games would you go to more? Who would you live with? How would the other have to compensate?

You didn’t want to leave them either. After all, it’d been three years. In that amount of time, there was no way their love was still completely unrequited. 

A compromise was met.

You lived in an apartment in a city exactly halfway between both boys’ teams. They paid for your living expenses--because of course they loved to spoil you--while you went to the local college. It was perfect!

Until it wasn’t.

There was a boy. 

In one of your classes. 

He was nice. Too nice. 

But he wasn’t the only one. 

Suddenly you had friend groups you were hanging out with, people who had no idea what you liked or what to keep you away from. 

When Hinata and Kageyama agreed to meet you one Friday night at your apartment and you weren’t home, that was the last straw. 

Clearly you couldn’t be trusted on your own. Clearly, you didn’t deserve that freedom. 

And then they found you, smiling, chatting, laughing with what could only be described as undeserving scum, Hinata and Kageyama snapped. 

“Please don’t!”

“It’s for your own good, YN. You didn’t listen to us!” Normally, Hinata couldn’t bear to see you cry without shedding a few tears of his own, but tonight his eyes were dry. His face was still sad though as he handcuffed you to Kageyama’s bed. 

Kageyama enters the room, a suitcase in each hand. “Here,” he hands one to Hinata. “This one stays at your house while I keep this one here.”

The new plan: you were to be locked up in one of their homes, switching every week. 

Hinata accepted the bag with a nod, tossing one last glance at your crying form. 

“YN.” He couldn’t resist, brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. Hinata cringed in sadness at the way you flinched away from his touch, but he didn’t mention it. “Please. You know I hate to see you cry. Look at it this way,” he forced a smile, caressing the skin underlying your cuffs, “now you don’t have to wait for one of us to come to you, because we’ll always be here. And if you want to see the other, we can FaceTime!”

Kageyama clenched his jaw at the scene, wishing he didn’t have to keep you locked up just to keep you in his apartment. 

But he knew it was for your own good. 

Finally, when Hinata couldn’t take anymore of your crying face, he rose from his crouch at your side with a whimper and made his way to Kageyama standing in the doorway.

“Remind her that I love her every day.”

“Okay.”

“And that she can always call if she needs to.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t forget that she’s almost on her-”

“I know that, dumbass, you don’t think I have that marked on my calendar?”

“I was just saying, Kageyama!”

“Whatever.”

And with that, Hinata left with a suitcase of half of your possessions in hand.

Kageyama sat by your side on his bed the minute his front door closed, one of his hands reaching up to brush through your hair. “You understand why we needed to do this, right?”

You couldn’t hold his blue gaze for long before more tears sprung to your eyes. “Please…”

Kageyama shook his head, dropping his hand to cup your cheek. “It’ll be like this for a while. At least… at least until we can trust you again. All right?”

When he saw your bottom lip begin to quiver once more, he knew reasoning with you was pointless. Even though he’d known you for years, handling your emotions was still foreign to him. 

Hinata was so much better at that stuff. 

Kageyama huffed and rose to his feet, pressing a hesitant kiss to your forehead before moving to the suitcase sitting on the floor. “I’ll help you unpack, and tomorrow maybe you can come with me to practice if you’re good, okay?”

Kageyama and Hinata were always going to struggle with sharing you, but it was an issue they were willing to work through. After all, they shared one common goal: keeping you by their sides.

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

(Supernatural/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: How do normal people react when they get kidnapped by a vampire and a wizard claiming to be their soulmates? Because you try to choke them out with their own breakfasts. But maybe that’s just you. 

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

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

Word count: 4500

        “YN.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “Akaashi-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “Then why-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “Bokuto!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        But nothing happened. 

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

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

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

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

        “Akaashi…”

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

        “I-”

        “Darling.”

        “Yes?”

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

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

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

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

        Bokuto’s hand wrapped around your throat the next. 

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

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

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

        Stop, please. It hurts.

        Oh God, please let me go.

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

        Two knocks at the wooden door.

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

        “Am I interrupting something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                ~~~

        “How’s your steak?”

        “It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        It was a tad too raw.

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

        “Doesn’t everybody?”

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

        You almost choke on your drink.

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

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

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

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

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

        “They didn’t-

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

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

        “Do you care for me?”

        “Fuck you.”

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

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

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

        Nostrils flaring, you take another indignant sip of wine.

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

        “Please no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “So?”

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

        “Why are you telling me this, Kuroo?”

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

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

        And then the bubble burst. 

        Burp.

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

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

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

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

                                ~~~

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

        Something was terribly wrong. 

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

        Or whatever was going to happen. 

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

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

        “We’re here.”

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

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

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

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

        What a delightful guy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

        Well that didn’t last long. 

        And with that, you opened the door. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        Fuck that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “Bo-”

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

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

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

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

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

        “I hate you.”

Previous  Masterlist  Next

Can i also be tagged to reborn? Love ur story btw! <333

Of course!! I’m glad you’re liking it☺️💜

Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 7~

(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: Ayooo happy 2021 y’all! We fucking made it! I’m glad y’all are here to kick off the new year with me, and as a celebration (and a lil apology bc I’m gonna have to go on hiatus again), here’s the next part to Reborn! I wish you all luck and happiness in the new year, and, as always, enjoy!

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

Word count: 8155

        Some days you couldn’t stand to look at yourself in the mirror. When you’re feeling guilty after a buffet or just not wanting to face the music of an all-nighter. Maybe even after running over a squirrel on the road.

        The back of your mind whispered now was one of those times, but you ignored it. 

        Tears streamed down Bokuto’s face, flushing his cheeks and highlighting his golden irises. And yet, it seemed he still couldn’t find it in himself to meet your gaze. 

        “You’re a monster and I hate your guts,” you sneered, letting a foreign wave of fury wash over you. It was like your emotions had been hijacked and someone was pressing all your buttons at once. Your inability to control yourself made you even more pissed off. 

        Akaashi could only stand by and watch, pain and disappointment reigning on his face as Bokuto bawled like the baby he was. 

        You shifted your gaze back to the vampire and stepped closer to his bars. “Your head is emptier than the coffin in my grave. You always act all tough, but I know what you really are--a sad, old, lonely vampire clutching onto the only friend in his life while chasing after girls.” I don’t mean that. “And do you wanna know what else?”

        Like the prick of a needle, a headache stirred at the base of your neck and stretched to the top of your skull. Small jabs of pain dug under the superficial layers of your scalp and pierced the edges of your brain. Stop please. I don’t mean any of this.

        Just when you bit your tongue in effort to fend off the ache, Bokuto met your gaze for the first time in minutes. 

        Agony dominated his innocent eyes. His lower lip was drawn into his mouth and gnawed on enough to trail crimson down his chin. Each bone in his body appeared to tremble while his Adam’s apple bobbed every few seconds. But not once did he speak. 

        He didn’t beg you to stop or plead for you to take it all back. There was this aura around him that told you he was going to lie down and take this without even a hint of fighting back. No matter what you threw at him, he was willing to be your punching bag for however long you would let him.

        And that boiled your blood. 

        You stomped closer to his cage and shoved a hand through the bars, reaching out for him only to snicker when he dove away. 

        “Just as I thought.” You rolled your eyes and pulled away. “You’re a coward. Afraid to let me even touch you. Doesn’t that make you wonder how I felt after the last encounter we had?”

        He whimpered.

        “Exactly. I was terrified. You tore into me like roadkill. Like you wanted to kill me. How does that make you feel, Bokuto? Do you hate yourself for what you’ve done? Do you even feel bad? Or is it just that the beast you bury inside yourself finally took over and-”

        “That’s enough.”

        “Oh!” You simper at Akaashi. “Look who’s decided to join the party-”

        “That’s enough!” The wizard’s nostrils flare as he shakes his head at you. Voice lowered, he mumbles to himself incoherently while studying you like a hawk. “You don’t mean any of that, YN.”

        “Oh yeah? Does your light magic tell you that?”

        Akaashi’s eyes narrow at you. A million questions fly through his mind right before you while he reads every inch of your face. Then his lips part.

        “Does your stomach hurt, my love?” His tone is surprisingly gentle compared to the scowl he has carved into his features. You stumble back and furrow your brows. 

        “What?”

        “Do you have a headache? Do your toes itch?”

        “What the hell are you on?”

        His jaw irks and his shackles tap on the iron bars of his cell while he ponders. 

        Meanwhile, Bokuto sat crumpled on his knees, looking like his soul has torn in two. His head has lowered to his chest and dust stirs on the ground where his tears fall. Both hands lay curled into fists on his thighs, clenching and unclenching in an irregular pattern. 

        Frustration coils around your throat, forcing you to speak as you grow impatient. “Spit it out, Akaashi. What the fuck are you looking for?”

        Once more, the wizard’s eyes raise to meet yours head on as he studies you for a moment, looking stumped. “There’s got to be something… oh!” Standing up straighter, his cuffs clatter and clang as he gathers your attention, watching your every move. 

        “My love, how do you feel about us?”

        “Why does that-”         “Do you love us?”

        “W-what?” you exclaim, staggering back. In your chest, your heart jumps and stutters, gathering a zoo of butterflies in your stomach. For some reason, the question… excites you in a way. Not in an angry way, either, but more so a “now’s the time, just spit it out” way.

        Except you had nothing to spit. 

        Or, more precisely, you had nothing you wanted to spit. 

        Yes! Say it!

        Like your lips were sewn together, you force yourself to stay silent. No words seem to gather in your mind at Akaashi’s question. Wasn’t it too soon for something like that?

        Of course it was. And you… h-hated them anyway, right?... No?

        Fuck. 

        What was love anyway? Was it wanting to spend time around Bokuto and Akaashi? Was it wanting to be held in their embrace for as long as they would allow? Maybe it was wanting to have conversations about the dumbest things that slowly grow more serious and intense, or yell at sports games on television that you didn’t even know the rules to. 

        Surely it wasn’t any of that, because you wanted all of that. 

        “My love.” Even Bokuto had perked up to answer the question, head tilting just enough to glance at you through his lashes. Akaashi, however, seemed to read you like a book. “Please. Answer the question.”

        “I… y-... I… love… you.” You choked your way through each syllable, then the words came out as easy as a breath. “I love you.”

        A giant weight lifted off your shoulders and suddenly you could breathe again. The constriction around your throat lessened into nothing and your chest felt so light you could laugh. The freedom to have control over your emotions and your thoughts was almost as intoxicating as the dopamine flooding to your brain. 

        Akaashi looked like he could pass out in relief while Bokuto collapsed onto his back and starfished. “Thank fuck,” the former sighed. 

        It was only when weeps began to emit from the latter that you realized you were on damage control duty. “Oh God, Bo, I’m so sorry.”

        All he did was cry harder, body shuddering with every whine. Remorse tugged you to the floor and led you to reach for his outstretched leg, patting the top of his foot just enough to gather his attention. 

        “Bo please! Look at me.”

        He grew quieter, but only a touch as you struggled to catch his eye. You shook his foot hard, but it was only when you used all the strength you could muster to drag him toward you that he finally gave in and met your gaze. 

        “Bokuto… Bo. I… I’m so-” you bit your lip as a sob caught in your throat. 

        You loved these men--truly, you did. The thought of losing their smiles, their warm hugs, the care and gentleness they had only for you… it killed you. After today, you weren’t quite sure you could manage another second without them. 

        These two… powerful, tender, doting beings. They were prepared to risk their lives for you and more; you couldn’t help but feel yourself falling harder for them by the second. 

        “Bokuto, I love you,” you mumbled through a wave of emotion, “and I’m so sorry.”

        The words hit home and you could see the spiral it flung the vampire into. Love, anger, sadness, joy--each one passed before your eyes in his very own as he studied your face. 

        No one had ever looked at you like that. 

        And yet it felt like he’d been doing it for centuries. 

        One hard yank and you were tugged flat against the cell bars as Bokuto embraced you. 

        So warm. So, so, dreadfully warm and adoring that it stung the corners of your eyes. In his hold, you felt like you could face anything head on, because he-

        No.

        Because both of them would be by your side. The wizard and vampire before you were willing to take a bullet and more just to see you smile. A love like that was rare. 

        Destined.

        You owed them so much for how they’d loved you. 

        So you patted Bokuto’s back, running a hand through his familiarly calming hair just for good measure before pulling away and stepping back. 

        Akaashi’s hand fell from its place on your back and returned to his side before both men faced you. 

        A rush of responsibility ran through you like a bucket of ice, refreshing you for what was to come. 

        They had taken care of and loved you for so long, and now it was time for you to return the favor. 

        “I’m going to get you guys out of here.”

        Before they could argue, you dashed up the stairs and out of the dungeon, in search of the man who had started it all. 

                                ~~~

        As expected, the halls of Kuroo’s mansion were chilling to the bone as you stepped through the occasional moon’s ray in search of the cat. 

        Opalescent, marble floors absorbed and amplified your every footstep as you made your way through the halls, shoes squealing every few strides. In the heat of the moment, your grand idea to locate Kuroo’s room and steal the key to the cells was… overzealous at best.

        At worst, it had one too many holes. For one, you had no clue where Kuroo’s room was. For two, you had no idea where you were. Unlike Akaashi and Bokuto’s home, there was no atmosphere of familiarity and, more importantly, no vampire or wizard to direct and guide you around the place. Here, you were a fish out of water. 

        Though, you had to admit the supernatural must all have the same taste in interior decorating. Ancient-yet-creepy paintings of landscapes or figures seemed to litter the ruby walls and you barely managed to not stub your toe on the sporadically-placed vases and tables of the corridors. Emerald green vines framed each window that lit your path along with the single chandelier you found consistent with every high ceiling of the halls. 

        And yet, not a sound could be heard. Your feet began to twinge at the miles you felt like you’d walked in search of… well, you didn’t know what, exactly. If Kuroo found you, you had no idea what to say to him. However, you also had no clue on how to locate his bedroom either. 

        At this point, you were praying for a miracle while wandering the halls like a lost kitten. 

        Not a single soul had crossed your path, not even a lazing Kenma who’d barely found the effort to locate a couch before crashing to play his game. 

        Stuck in a labyrinth of ruby and white halls, you wanted to tear your own hair out for leaving the dungeon with a half-baked plan. Of course, you’d often thought of knocking on any one of the wooden doors you’d come across on your weary travels, but there was some apprehension that came with each potential interaction. 

        Though you were certain Kuroo had informed everyone that he’d okayed you going down to meet Bokuto and Akaashi, you were positive he wouldn’t be okay with you wandering the halls. Now was one of few times you actually wished you had supernatural abilities of some sorts so you could defend yourself should any one of the werecats housing the mansion find you. 

        “YN?” Like that one. 

        A hand settles on your shoulder, somehow scaring even more of the bejesus that had already fled from you when the voice had first spoken. 

        As you turn, the face that greets you is even less surprising than the smile that rests on its face. Kuroo drops his hand from your shoulder, leaving a burn in its wake as he steps closer to you. The distance between you two could violate the rules of not only basic personal space but also any high school prom’s as well. 

        “Reunion’s over already?” And there it was--that sly, devious glint in his glowing eyes that you so dearly wanted to smother. 

        For an instant, you feel like a rat just waiting for the trap’s mechanism to snap down on your neck and end your suffering. 

        However, something in you urges to not give up so easily. You still had a lot to fight for, and judging by the anticipatory look in Kuroo’s eyes, you weren’t caught just yet.

        But… just how could you worm your way out of this one?

        “I, uh…” Think YN, think! “Umm…”

        Cue the lightbulb.

        “I couldn’t stand to be in that damned room with them any longer!” you sneered uneasily. You mustered as much disgust on your face as possible, and with Kuroo right in front of you, such a task was almost too easy. 

        The corners of his mouth turned upward devilishly. “Good. So I assume that means you’re…?”

        Your brow raises before you realize and rush to finish his question. “O-oh, yes, yes! I am totally and completely… over… them. Boy do I really hate their guts.”

        Though you weren’t exactly up for a Golden Globe, it seemed anything you gave Kuroo right now he would lap up like a starved kitten. 

        It wasn’t hard to see that Kuroo was willing to try and get you over Bokuto and Akaashi by any means necessary, but him being so desperate gave you a way past the very own walls he thought he had built so well. 

        If this was chess, you were almost sure you had him in check. 

        You just needed to make one last move to really ensure such a swindle. 

        A breath escaped Kuroo’s lips easily when his jaw dropped at your hug. One minute you were across from him, giving your best impersonation of spite. The next, your arms were wrapped around his midsection and your face was pressed into his chest. 

        Cologne of sea salt mixed with sandalwood wafted up both your nostrils with one fell swoop, invading and fogging your mind. Though not altogether unpleasant, there was something simply too foreign and external about it that made it leagues behind what you knew. Any day would you rather take in Akaashi’s scent of lavender with hints of spices and Bokuto’s pine and leather. 

        Not that you were a serial man-sniffer though.

        Nudging yourself back to the task at hand, you waited until it seemed just safe enough to search Kuroo’s jacket pockets for anything key-shaped. 

        The man in your arms seemed too shell-shocked to notice. In the last minute, he hadn’t made a single sound nor movement to reciprocate the hug; instead, all you could hear was the expected mouth-breathing of a dropped jaw. 

        Ever so slowly, you run your hands along his jacket in what you hope seems like an adoring motion, and yet there are no suspicious lumps--anywhere, thankfully. 

        No little bumps along the polyester, crimson fabric that seemed to resemble anything but a candy wrapper. Part of you wanted to search the pockets of his shorts but logic told you touching anything lower than the waist for a hug would definitely not end in a hug. 

        In any case, it seemed your internal debate on whether to cop a feel of Kuroo’s pants’ pockets or not was no longer the biggest issue. Kuroo finally came back to reality and returned the embrace. 

        It was obvious this was no friendly hug to him; he believed it to mean so much more than that. Long, athletic arms wound around your waist and tightened to the point where you struggled to inhale more than a gasp. Black locks tickled your neck the instant Kuroo dropped his head onto your shoulder with a smile so large you could feel it through your sweatshirt. 

        He was happy, so, so happy to finally have you in his hold. From what you could feel, even his own hands were shaking at the thought. 

        “God, I-... I’ve missed you so much, kitten.” He nuzzles deeper into your neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you in my arms again.”

        Kuroo was in love. Even the blind could see it. Over the centuries, he had fallen for you so hard he was actually shaking with joy from getting to hug you again. 

        The man before you was lonelier than you ever thought. He was a king without a queen, a man without his woman.

        A husband without his wife.

        Oh right. He-... We were… married.

        Centuries ago. Many, many centuries ago. And yet, Kuroo still believes that bond can be mended. He wanted that girl… you back, and now…

        Now you’ve just resparked that hope that he could have you again.

        But he couldn’t. The hug was just a ruse; it was just some way for you to get back with your real soulmates. 

        This poor, rejected cat before you would be left behind yet again. 

        A horrible, terrible ripping scratched at your heart. Isn’t he innocent in all this?

        Akaashi’s words, muddled but still clear in their purpose, came back to your mind all at once. 

        “He went mad without his queen. Many supernatural species perished under his tyrannical reign, and as a result became extinct. In the remaining villages, he hung posters of you. Wanted, dead or alive.”

        As kind as he was, he was still one of the main reasons children are scared to leave their beds at night. Monsters, vicious and uncaring, will attack just for spite. Supernatural beings are no different. 

        Perhaps, somewhere along the way he had changed. But you couldn’t place all your hope on a maybe. 

        This was still the man who held the ones you loved locked up under your own two feet. He was still the one who ordered his soldier to shoot when he’d first found you so many years ago. 

        Kuroo was still the man who’d made you become cursed. He was still the one who’d started it all. 

        “Kuroo?”

        “Hmm?”

        “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

                                ~~~

        His room was, of course, in the deepest, darkest end of a corridor in one half of the mansion you completely forgot existed. Naturally. 

        As if you would disappear any second, Kuroo kept his hand interlocked with yours the entire duration of the walk to his room, and he didn’t dare release it now that you’d arrived. 

        When the lavish double doors open, it’s like you’ve stepped into a larger version of your old apartment. At least, it was easily double the size. 

        Directly across from you is a balcony of marble white and rose gold. Flowers bloom along the railing and lead downward just out of eyesight from the glass doors that trap it outside. Inside, meanwhile, there’s a four poster bed large enough for ten with a frame that reaches just up to the ceiling, covered in black curtains, black sheets and crimson pillows. A plush carpet rug leads to steps up to the enormous bed and the two wooden nightstands on the side of it. Directly opposite of it is a flat screen no doubt visible from space and sitting on a cherry red console. To the left of the TV is one black door and to the right is another. 

        Kuroo leads you inside before you can ogle the room anymore. “You like it?”

        Bitch-

        “Are you pulling my leg right now?” You breathe out, eyes still trying to take in the sheer vastness of the room itself. “Like… holy shit.”

        “I’m glad you like it,” he snickers. “I like seeing you breathless.”

        And, of course, the pervert had to ruin it.

        His comment sobers you up and makes you realize something--searching for that damned key is going to be worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. Fuck me.

        Just as you start inspecting the room with what little time you’ve had inside it, Kuroo spins you to face him. “So…”

        “So…”

        The grin on his face turns soft as he reaches a hand up to caress your face. The touch, however loving, feels wrong. Like “he’s just wiping his germs on your face” wrong. Deep down, you’re thankful the connection between you and your boys is so strong because otherwise you were sure Kuroo’s charm would have worked wonders on you by now. 

        The room was beautiful and Kuroo was being so sweet, but now was your chance. You needed to find that key and get out of here.

        Kuroo’s face leaning in closer to yours drew you back into reality. “I’m glad you like it in here. You can stay as long as you like.” His pupils enlarge, giving you warning signals like no other. 

        His head lowers just a bit closer, lips parted, and just when his eyes flutter closed… 

        Smooch.

        Eyes wide, you watch the floor as Kuroo’s lips press against your cheek. “Can you go get my clothes?”

        Instantly, he pulls away and presses a finger to his lips, gaze shocked and locked on your face. 

        “...From my room, please?”

        “Y-yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, of course. I’ll go… do that.”

        Never before have you seen Kuroo so flustered and if the situation had been less serious than you were sure you would have laughed. Instead, you felt just as antsy as Kuroo, but for an entirely different reason. 

        Without so much as a farewell, Kuroo hastens to leave the room, closing the door behind him and taking what must have been a brisk jog down the hall to cool himself off. 

        You wait until thirty seconds have passed after his steps turned inaudible before you hop to it, foraging every visible inch of the room before going deeper. 

        “It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself as you yank up the carpet, observing a concerning amount of dust. “Just don’t tell Bokuto and Akaashi and there won’t be a problem.”

        Lord knows one of them could probably smell Kuroo on you. You just hope they’ll save the questions for a later date. Like never. 

        No key anywhere. Not in the console, nor the nightstands. Not under the heavy-ass mattress nor behind the curtains of the balcony. Nothing. You even searched in the reading corner that had somehow passed your first survey of the room, on the bookshelves and under the two sofas. Nada.

        Summoning the patience to confront whatever was behind the two doors, you opened each one and, for lack of surprise, observed an abnormally large bathroom and a walk-in closet. 

        For a centuries-old werecat’s closet, it was surprisingly bare. One side was completely empty save for hundreds of hangers on a single metal bar. The other side was only half-full with t-shirts, coats, and suits hanging while jeans and shorts sat gathering dust on the floor. Judging by the look of things, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kuroo came back with more than just one pair of clothes for you.

        Hopefully, by then you would be long gone. 

        The bathroom, however, was much more of a challenge. About twenty cupboards each had their own stock of individual toiletry supplies, and yet not a single one held a key. You even had to perfectly restack twelve packages--not rolls--of toilet paper in the same, annoyingly perfect pyramid shape. He even had feminine products, but you supposed there should be no surprise there. 

        Obviously, he’s been preparing for you for quite a while. You’d be touched if you weren’t so creeped out by the sight of it altogether. 

        At last, you slumped out of the bathroom with sore arms and legs. Standing on your tiptoes and reaching up into cupboards took a lot more out of you than you thought. Such pain, and all for nothing. 

        Especially when you noticed a glint of something sparkling just above the carved doorway to Kuroo’s room. 

        The key. 

        It had been sitting in plain sight this whole time. However, spotting it wasn’t the issue. Reaching it would be. 

        Regarding the doorway, it was polished wood carved into a perfect arch to fit both doors, and at the top sat the sculpted head of a roaring lion. Just at the top of his dusty mane was the key, and no matter how high you jumped, you knew you wouldn’t be able to reach it. 

        It was high--almost three-of-you-stacked high. The bed was too far away to try and launch yourself, and neither nightstand looked sturdy enough to hold you. So what could…?

        The sofas!

        They were huge and a long ways away. Not only that, but you figured with the amount of time Kuroo had been away that he’d found clothes for you to “sleep in” tonight about a hundred times over. What was truly concerning was that he hadn’t shown up yet.

        Counting your blessings, you didn’t bother wasting any more time. Quickly, you dashed over to one of the black leather sofas and started to push it with all your might.

        Uh oh.

        No, not “uh oh” it was too heavy; in fact, the chair was actually seated on sliders to make mobility easy. 

        What was “uh oh” was the heavy steps finally making their way back to this room. 

        Speak of the goddamn devil.

        The steps weren’t patient or slowed either--it was clear Kuroo was done being away from you for so long. 

        Now or never. 

        If you got caught, you weren’t quite sure you could handle the consequences, so you stopped considering them altogether and moved. 

        You shoved the sofa past the carpet and across the wood floor, catching onto the occasional rock and leaving a scratch in its wake--nothing an all-too adoring werecat would notice. 

        You barely avoided crashing into the doors themselves and hurried to clamber onto the sofa. 

        Move, YN, move move move.

        Barely keeping your balance, you reached for the head of the lion, only to hold back a cry when your fingers barely brushed it’s jaw.

        Fuck, YN he’s getting closer. Think!

        Kuroo’s footsteps were loud, but not as loud as your heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

        Shit, shit, shit!

        You couldn’t reach any better from the arm of the chair, instead just skimming its pointed ear. A sob built in your throat in frustration.

        Please!

        Your only chance was standing on the head of the chair, but according to every physics law ever, that would be fucking impossible. 

        The steps were just outside the door now.

        With one more nervous glance, you pushed all of your weight to lean on the wall just beside the door, stepping one trembling leg up onto the top of the chair’s back.

        The doorknob twisted. 

        NO!

        The door cracked open just as you pushed all your strength onto your lifted leg, propelling yourself up and-

        You missed.

        The door cracked open. 

        “Kuroo!”

        And it stopped there. Another pair of footsteps made their way over to the door and you tensed when the door shifted open just a tad.

        Then it shut completely. 

        The knob twisted back into place and two pairs of footsteps receded just a couple yards away. 

        Kenma’s voice pipes up and Kuroo’s voice whispers back but you don’t spare another second trying to decipher the conversation. 

        Swiftly, you step back up onto the back of the chair and propel yourself up one more time, stretching every ligament in your arm so taut you swear you felt something tear but you don’t mind. 

        The key is cold and made of brass, but it sits between your two fingers all the same. 

        Eyes bulging in effort to hold back a cheer, you’re quick to climb back down and push the chair all the way back to the reading corner just when the conversation in the hall ends. 

        Collapsing into the sofa, you grab a random book off the shelf and tear it open, smoothly inspecting a random page just as the door opens. 

        “YN?” Kuroo steps in and glances around, lips curling into a smile when he spots you in the corner. “Ahh, the mini library. I figured you would like that.”

        “Yep,” you nodded, allowing yourself just the smallest smile of victory so you can wear it as a disguise. “I’ve got myself acquainted here with…” you squint at the page, before pursing your lips and turning the book rightside up, “Gandalf and Bilbo.” 

        “Upside down?”

        “It’s a talent I’m working on. I’ll show you later.”

        Kuroo chuckles before closing the door behind him, dropping an armful of clothes on the bed. 

        “So I wasn’t sure if you wanted the blue sweatshirt or the black one so I brought both. And that same philosophy applied to just about all the other clothes I dug through so,” he gestured to the pile, “go nuts.”

        Setting the book back on the shelf, you rose and stood to observe the clothes. Sadly, the bed was too large for you to stand directly across from Kuroo to dig through them, so you accepted your fate and sidled up beside him while he watched your every move.

        “...YN?” His tone was curious and careful as he narrowed his eyes at you.

        You kept your eyes on the clothes and urged your voice to keep steady. “What’s up?”

        “Why are you so flushed?” His hand runs down your cheek, gathering droplets of sweat that had formed from your stress earlier. “I don’t suppose you worked out or something while I was gone.”

        Though his proposition would have been a great excuse, you weren’t exactly the person to spend your spare time working out for the hell of it. Anybody knew that.

        “Pfft, no,” you waved a hand nonchalantly, “reading upside down is just really hard. You’re lucky you came in when you did or I might have just passed out altogether.”

        Kuroo studied you for a moment longer, leaning just a bit closer before humming. “All right. Then I’ll just say you’re welcome.”

        “Thank you.” Rummaging through the collection of pants and sweatshirts once more, you struggled to think of an excuse to get the hell out of here. 

        Kuroo’s hand moved to rest on the small of your back and suddenly all precaution flew out the window. 

        “K-Kuroo.”

        “Hmm?” The hand never retreats, and instead Kuroo turns toward you expectantly.

        “I… uh… don’t think I’m ready to sleep in the same bed with you yet.”

        Wonderful topic change, YN.

        “And why’s that?”

        “It’s not anything against you!” You scramble to find the words, turning toward him and wetting your lips. “I just… I think it’s too soon. For me, at least. I mean, I know it’s not too soon for you! In fact, I’m sure you think it’s overdue or something, but I’m just not that… comfortable yet…” you decide to trail off with your rambling and instead assess the hole you’ve just dug yourself in in silence. 

        Kuroo does the same, pressing his lips together and meeting your gaze head on. You knew he was searching for something, and you almost let out a sigh of relief when he finally nodded. “Don’t worry. I understand.” And then you notice his hand is still on your waist, but only because he’s placed the other one on your other hip. Then, ever so carefully, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “One day, kitten.”

        Suddenly feeling dirty, you nod and pull away completely. “Of course.”

        Now how do I get out of here?

        Kuroo lets his hands fall back to his sides and his eyes drag down to the clothes still sitting in a clump on the bed.

        Bingo.

        “Oh, damn,” you hiss, picking through the clothes. “These ones are really uncomfortable. You didn’t get my favorites.” What you lack in acting skills you hope you make up for with swiftness. “Just wait here, I’ll go get them from my room.”

        Kuroo’s gaze shifts ten times more serious in an instant. Like a snake, his hand snaps out from his side and snags onto your wrist, effectively holding you in place just as you turn to leave. 

        Swallowing the fear in your chest, you spin back to Kuroo like he gestures. Slim fingers grab onto your chin and tilt your head to face his, forcing all your attention onto him.

        “You’re not going to do anything stupid, right kitten?”

        You kept a steady gaze and refrained from nervous shifting of any kind. You were too close to give it all up now. “Of course not. I just wanted more comfortable clothes.”

        With a pause, Kuroo narrows his eyes, glancing your form up and down before nodding. The bruising grip on your chin is released and you bite the inside of your cheek to fend off a whimper. 

        That son of a bitch was going to leave a mark.

        “Don’t keep me waiting long, YN.”

        Not bothering to stick around longer than necessary, you exited the room without another look at Kuroo and shut the door with a whoosh. The roaring blood pumping in your ears blocked out any other sound as you dashed down the halls, flying past tables of antique knick knacks and curtainless windows. 

        Soon, your mood shifted from a state of uncertainty to absolute pride. You did it. You got the key, and now you would get everyone out safely. Your one-man party would have to wait until you actually found out how to get out of here, though. 

        Unlike before, you weren’t exactly lost. The occasional painting was actually familiar and you thanked your past self for doing a little sight-seeing while being stranded in the halls. 

        When you spotted the very first painting you remembered appraising--a lone tree surrounded by thundering clouds--you almost yelped with glee. 

        I’m almost there, guys. Don’t you worry. 

        By now, there was a faint tint of sky blue just reaching the horizon outside the window. The moon and stars were soon to be long gone, and you and the boys would have the bright sun to guide you away from this hellhole. 

        At last, you found the corridor you’d entered twice before. Bare as always, it was a sharp contrast from the rest of the house in terms of its flooring. Here, there was very little money spared; unlike the polished marble surface of the rest of the halls, this one was a simple concrete, leading to scuffs of your tennis shoes rather than the previous squeaks. 

        Nonetheless, you sprinted to the end all the same, making it entirely through the house undetected. You counted yourself lucky that Kuroo actually believed you remembered where your old room was. At this point, you could barely tell left from right without performing the classic “L” trick with your hands. 

        Biting back a smile, you struggled to remind yourself that you weren’t exactly free and clear just yet; there was still the issue of finding the main exit--or any sort of exit--now. While Kuroo was miles away in his room all the way across the house, that didn’t mean the other werecats infesting the place weren’t on the lookout for you. 

        Especially once Kuroo realized you weren’t coming back. 

        You made quick work of the creaky stairs, skipping three at a time before taking one final leap and crashing through the wooden door. Sucking in a breath through your teeth, you hoped the slam of the door wasn’t as loud to the rest of the house as it was to you.

        Yet, such fears soon didn’t matter. Bokuto and Akaashi’s heads both lift at the sound of your entrance before both men jump to their feet.

        “Darling, you made it!”

        “YN, are you okay?”

        While their voices clashed, you waited patiently until you had their full attention before brandishing the key with a wide smile. 

        Bokuto cheers as quietly as he could manage while Akaashi’s brows rose. 

        “How did you find it?”

        “Uh,” Ah crap. “I’ll… tell you later.”

        Not wasting any more time, you scamper over and unlock each cell, tensing up when you see Bokuto prepare for a classic tackle hug. Except it never comes.

        Instead, while Akaashi fiddles with his shackles, Bokuto lets his arms fall to his side and he backs away from you, suddenly appearing forlorn. The memory of your last meeting down here comes back and hits you like a freight train.

        “Bo, if this is about what I said-”

        “It’s not!” He glances away with a crease in his brow, busying himself with snapping Akaashi’s cuffs in two like they were made of nothing. “It’s just…”

        “What?”

        Neither man dares to meet your gaze, but Akaashi’s reason seems more for being on the lookout while Bokuto’s is out of shame. 

        “You didn’t see the fear in your eyes when I bit you.”

        “Bo…”

        “No, YN, you looked horrified. It was like you said. I’m a mon-”

        Slamming a hand over his mouth, you throw a dirty glare his way. “Don’t ever call yourself that. You’re not a monster, Bokuto. Would a monster bake-er… try to bake my favorite breakfast every day? Would he want to watch magic shows with me or hug me when it’s cold outside?”

        He mumbles behind your hand with downcast eyes and you shake your head. “No, Bokuto. You’re wrong. You’re not a monster, or anything of the sort, to me. I don’t care what you say.”

        With that, you release his mouth and yank him into a hug, blindly reaching for Akaashi to do the same. When you make contact with the wizard’s T-shirt, you pull him into your arms as well, sighing in relief at the feeling it gives. 

        This was right. This was warm and safe and so, so right. Fuzzy little feelings bumbled around in your stomach as you sank deeper into their arms, dropping your chin on both men’s shoulders. There was no guilt or betrayal that came with this hug because these men, no matter how little you knew them, felt like home. 

        For the past few weeks, you’d felt so lost and alone, and feeling them around you now was heartwarming. The world seemed to stop turning and whatever stressful situation you had been focused on before seemed to ebb away in their hold. This was what pure security, pure devotion, and pure love felt like. Two pairs of arms wrapped around your waist, ready to help you face anything from this point on. You weren’t stuck alone anymore. You weren’t unhappy anymore. You were just lost in the embrace of an attachment that had formed over centuries, and would continue in just that fashion. 

        “I’m glad you guys are okay.” The words, though sounding simple, had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for days now. And you meant every one of them. “It sucked being away from you all that time.”

        A soft smile formed on Akaashi’s face as he pulled away just an inch to see your face. Carefully, he unwound an arm from your waist and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “And we feel the same, my love.”

        Bokuto’s arms squeeze you tighter just for a moment before releasing altogether, allowing his golden gaze to reach yours. A grin larger than life itself almost blinded you, fangs twinkling in the light of the sunrise. “We missed you so much, darling. Being away from you is torture.”

        Involuntarily, your lower lip began to tremble as you glanced at both of them, hating how your heart skipped a beat at each sight. Maybe it was fast, and it certainly wasn’t expected, but you did love them. And there was so much more time for you to get to know them better, but now…

        “Oh shit, we have to get out of here!” Shaking yourself out of your daze, you pulled away completely, shivering at the cold that nipped your skin in seconds. 

        Both men snapped themselves out of the haze as well, one snagging your wrist while the other led the way up the stairs. Soon enough, each man had a hold on either of your biceps, both protecting your sides and leading you through the halls. 

        Initially, you wanted to announce that you might have a better idea of how to navigate Kuroo’s mansion, but you soon swallowed your words when you noticed Akaashi’s calculating gaze as he directed all three of you around. “This way,” he mumbled, jogging at a pace just slow enough that you weren’t completely left in the dust. 

        The sun was reaching higher in the sky, you noticed, just half of it reaching over the horizon and lighting the sky a dusty orange. The maze of halls and stairs was much more manageable now that you could actually see them with natural lighting. 

        At last, the three of you reached a foyer. One glass staircase led directly down to the middle of a large entryway, and just a few yards from where the last step met marble stood a pair of wooden double doors. The slaps of your footsteps sounded like thunder compared to the elegant pads of both Bokuto and Akaashi’s feet, but being so close meant no time for precaution.

        “Oh YN, surely you didn’t think I was that gullible.”

        So close, and yet so far. Just as your hand had touched the curved door handles, Kuroo’s voice stopped you in your tracks and chilled you to the bone. 

        Caught, trapped, cornered--whatever you wanted to call it. To put it simply, you were screwed. Spinning on your heels, you took in the sheer number of werecats. With no time to count, you estimated there were about ten transformed cats in all, each ready to pounce. Kuroo stood in his human form with folded arms, shaking his head in disappointment. 

        Oh yeah. We’re fucked.

        Bones crackle just to your left and where a silent Bokuto used to be, a hissing creature now stands at the ready. Still human-shaped, each muscle in the vampire’s body now appears doubled in size as viscous claws extend from each finger. Elongated fangs sharper than needles pierce through his gums and a glowing red takes over the deep auburn of his eyes. 

        On your right, Akaashi’s hands, now completely free of cuffs, radiate a maroon smoke, both pointed toward the crouching enemies. A line forms between his brow as spells wait to be cast on his lips. 

        While the odds weren’t looking good before, both transformations your boys had undergone make you feel just a little bit better about the results of this battle. 

        Akaashi reaches out a smoldering hand to push you behind them, closer to the door. “You’ll be okay, my love.” He glances back at you with a small smile. “I never lie to you, remember?”

        You nod and step back farther, hoping that promise wouldn’t be his last. Only one thing was for sure, and that was that nobody was coming out of this unscathed.

        Across the room, Kuroo’s teeth bare at the action and the black ears that had formed on his head flatten. “Don’t touch her.”

        And with that, he pounces. 

        The room that had been so tense and quiet just seconds earlier explodes into pandemonium. Hisses, catlike and vampire-like both travel around the room as you quiver against the door, fighting back the urge to flee. 

        A foreign language slips off Akaashi’s tongue in a rage as red mist envelopes the room, paralyzing three cats right in their place. Two others pounce on him and just like that, they are slammed into the wall with a swift wave of his hand.

        Bokuto, on the other hand, is drowning underneath a pile of cats. Flexed claws tear into every inch of skin, but he gives just as much as he gets. One cat yowls and flees after receiving a dagger-like fingernail in the eye while another drops to the floor with a kick against its head. 

        Part of you wanted to help in some way while the other urged you to flee from the house completely. As an unofficial compromise, you stood glued to your spot, unsure if you could move even if you wanted to. 

        Cougar-sized cats go flying with another flash of red from Akaashi’s hands, one crashing right into the staircase and you cringe at the crack that echoes with it. Blood spatters to the floor and soaks into your pant legs as Bokuto sinks his teeth into the throat of a pure white cat, tearing away and spitting out a solid chunk of flesh. 

        All the sights and sounds are macabre, but like a car crash, you just couldn’t look away, completely enraptured in horror. Even the scent of blood flooded your nostrils at this point, forcing you to gag and turn away just when a cat is kicked into the wall directly by the doors. 

        It howls in pain, but the proximity between you and the slumped, bleeding form goes completely unnoticed until you feel a pinch in your side. 

        No. Not a pinch. The cat’s jaw has unhinged and enveloped your left hip completely, digging in hard enough to meet bone. Tears spring to your eyes and your jaw drops in a silent scream. Shock does nothing to fend off the pain as it forces you to your knees. 

        The cat scampers away just when you find the strength to release a small moan. Hands grab at your side, and you don’t realize they’re your own until you cry out at the sheer amount of red drenching your hands. 

        Blood is everywhere, soaking into your shoes and socks. Pooling onto the floor around you. And yet, when you reach to cover the wound, you can no longer feel the large punctures it had left. 

        “YN!” Twenty feet away, Akaashi throws a hand out toward you while another helps Bokuto to his feet. The door behind you flies open and you drag yourself to your feet, hanging onto the doorway for support as you step outside. 

        Fresh air never smelled more sweet, and when you reach down to feel your wound once more, you almost choke in disbelief to feel damp yet completely unruptured skin. 

        What the hell? WHAT THE HELL?

        Two hands grab your waist and throw you over a broad shoulder, leaving your head and arms to sag against what appears to be Bokuto’s lacerated backside. 

        “You’re gonna be okay, YN, we’re getting out of here!” Bokuto shouts over the wind rushing in your ears. The speed the forest floor passes by your eyes is inhuman as the vampire weaves in and out of trees, Akaashi keeping in perfect stride just to the side of you both. 

        An overflow of blood rushes straight down into your head, forcing you to lift your skull just a little to fend off the dizziness. In the distance, Kuroo’s mansion of black and red brick grows blurry, and yet does nothing to obscure the sight in the doorway. 

        Two glowing green eyes peering from within the darkness. 

        Neither Akaashi nor Bokuto has noticed, but the sight of it has caused you to tense up and go still in the latter’s hold. 

        “Don’t worry, my love,” Akaashi grunts out as both men begin to slow to a stop. Bokuto shifts his hold on you, now gripping the backs of your knees and your shoulders. A hand, Akaashi’s, glows a gentle pink before he brushes through the hair on the top of your head. “We’re going home.”

        A wave of exhaustion washes over you, forcing your eyes to droop closed. 

        “You can rest now. We’ll keep you safe.”

Previous  Masterlist  Next

uhh hi again 😅 im sorry for requesting again hdhd but is it ok to request another akaash papercrane au? where him and the reader are friends and akaashi believed that if he folds a thousand paper cranes the reader who is sick would get better but in the end when his wish came true his life was taken in exchange for his wish.

Paper Cranes (Akaashi x Reader) 

*GIF not mine*

Summary: A thousand paper cranes led to one wish. Or at least that’s what the legend said. Akaashi never wanted or even minded if it was true. At least, not until you came along.

A/N: I’m just out here wondering why y’all wanna be hurt. Like wtf. Anyways, this bitch angsty. Like I seriously hope y’all cry at this, bc boy did I want to. So like, pls feel free to tell me if you did cry, bc then I would feel accomplished. Aight, hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 3725

        There was a… legend, of sorts. 

        If any one person could fold one thousand paper cranes, he or she would be granted a wish. 

        Akaashi had heard this story from his grandmother at a young age, and since then scoffed at the idea. What’s a wish gonna do? And why would he need one?

        He never truly believed in fate, destiny, or any other mystical mumbo jumbos. At least not until he met you. 

                                ~~~

        The swings are the loneliest place on the playground. Only one person can enjoy the ride at the time. If you have someone to push you, you only have a split second every time you swing back toward them to talk or laugh or enjoy each other’s companies. 

        Akaashi found himself there often. He was the quietest kid in his kindergarten class, and though his appearance did make him popular in crowds, he preferred the solitude of the swings. 

        The swings didn’t expect him to be funny. They didn’t expect him to be smart. They didn’t expect him to be perfect. 

        “Hey, can I swing with you?” 

        The swings didn’t- wait, what?

        Akaashi slowed his back-and-forth swaying, lowering his dusty tennis shoes to the bark of the ground to observe who had spoken. 

        It was a girl. A girl he had seen in his class often. The rays of the sun glimmered in her eyes, making them seem magical and kind. Her hands were folded behind her back shyly, and she scuffed the toe of her plastic sandal against her other heel while awaiting his answer. 

        Being confronted by his classmates was nothing new. All the time they came up to him and chattered like mindless lemmings. But Akaashi couldn’t help but gape at this girl in shock. 

        She was the first person to ask. 

        “S-sure.” 

        The young girl gave him a wide smile and crashed down into the swing beside his, already propelling herself to and fro with a kick of her feet. 

        A feeling awoke inside Akaashi in that moment. Competition. 

        Quickly, he bent and locked out his knees, trying to catch up to your pace though you were quite a bit ahead. You giggled and squealed when he swung ahead of you, and cheered victoriously when you blew past him. 

        Breathless. That’s how he felt. There was a glow in his chest, and suddenly he understood why so many other kids enjoyed being around their fellow classmates. 

        Having a friend who enjoyed the same things as him was fun. 

                                ~~~

        “YN!” Akaashi groaned, grimacing at the sight of you dancing victoriously above him. 

        “Look at all this money, Keiji!” You threw the Monopoly dollars in the air, waggling your hips and whooping. “How does it feel to SUCK?” 

        The black haired boy only folded his arms and pushed himself deeper amongst the blankets of the pillow fort. A pout carved onto his face when you began rubbing the fake bills against your cheeks. “Ahh, to be a millionaire. By the way, how’s your bankruptcy?” 

        “Shush, you,” he sulked, grabbing a stray pillow and tossing it at your head. You only dodged and laughed, crashing onto the floor beside him with a large oof. 

        “Ahh c’mon, you know you love me twerp,” you poked the side of his cheek as you laid on your back with a grin. 

        Shaking his head, Akaashi turned his face the other way and hid a small smile. “I can’t believe you were my first friend.”

        “Only ‘cause you sucked at swinging too.”

        “How does one suck at swinging?”

        “I don’t know! How do-”

        “Kids!” Akaashi’s mother interrupted, peeking her head into the fort with a quirk of her lips. “You better get to sleep. It’s almost ten.” 

        “Okay, Mom,” the boy nodded, discreetly jabbing your stomach as soon as she disappeared outside once more. 

        “OW!” you squealed, ruffling his hair in return. 

        The living room grew silent as you both settled in to sleep five minutes later. The excitement had calmed down, and now Akaashi was huddled in a blanket just a few inches away from your own. 

        His heart raced at the idea, and many thoughts flitted through his head. One being… 

        “Hey YN?” 

        You fake snored loudly and Akaashi scoffed, pulling a lock of your hair. 

        “Geez dude, why you always gotta hurt me?” You rolled over, incidentally getting even closer to your friend, and opened your eyes to face him. Akaashi was almost choking at the proximity. 

        With a purse of his lips, he lifted himself on one elbow and scratched the back of his neck. He avidly avoided your gaze as his cheeks tinged pink. “Sorry, I just….”

        You raised a brow. “Yeah…?”

        “We’re gonna stay friends, right? Even when we go to middle school? And even high school?” 

        Akaashi held his breath while you tapped your cheek thoughtfully. “Well, I was actually kinda hoping I could replace you with Godzilla once we got there, but if that doesn’t work out, then I guess so,” you shrugged. 

        He rolled his eyes and licked his lips. “Come on, I’m being serious.” 

        “I am too.”

        “Come on.”

        “All right, all right!” You lifted your hand out from under your blanket and poked him in the cheek once again, a new, nervous habit of yours. “Of course, stupid. We’re gonna be best friends forever. I promise.” 

        You held out your pinkie with a grin, and Akaashi stared at it hesitantly. 

        “Forever?” 

        You nodded, and he gave in, interlocking his last finger with your smaller one. 

        “Yeah, Keiji. Forever.”

                                ~~~

        Volleyball became a huge part of Akaashi’s life in middle school, and even on into high school. 

        “Hey, hey, hey Akaashi! Pass it to me!” 

        But not once did your friendship stray. 

        “It’s yours, Bokuto!”

        Every few seconds, he caught a glimpse of you in the stands. A large grin adorned your face, and you held a personalized sign just for him that you waved frantically any time he scored a point. 

        “GO AKAASHI!!!” Your voice, almost impeded by the overall clamor and volume of the gymnasium, was still fine-tuned in his ears. They perked at the cheer like the first melody of a bird on a bright morning. 

        A quirk of his lips accompanied the call, and he had to shake his head to stay focused on the game. 

        Block this guy’s spike.

        Send the set directly above the net so Bokuto can get a cross-court shot. 

        Where’s Konoha?

        I better send this one to-

        His never ending train of thoughts faltered for a second at the sound of a collective gasp. Nothing amazing had happened on the court, at least not from his point of view. So something must’ve happened in the crowd. 

        Hollers and cheers shifted to low, concerned murmurs. 

        The team on the other side of the net watched the audience in complete shock. 

        What is…

        Akaashi turned around with a crease in his brow and instinctively searched for you.

        You were gone. 

        Nostrils flaring, he slipped under the net to the other side of the court for a better vantage point. The sight shot his heart to pieces. 

        There, on the second level of the gym, collapsed against the plastic bleachers, was your unconscious form. 

                                ~~~

        The fluorescent lights on the ceiling of the hospital buzzed almost silently. And yet, for as long as Akaashi had been there, it was the only sound he could hear. 

        He stood outside your room like a guard dog, keeping his gaze locked on you at all times. 

        Through the glass windows of your room, he watched as your parents hugged you with tear-stained cheeks. You, on the other hand, were emotionless. Your eyes were unfocused, and you didn’t seem to be tuned into reality at the moment. 

        A half an hour passed. Your parents finally let him into the room, and he stepped in almost unwillingly. 

        “Mom, Dad, can… umm… can we have a moment alone?” 

        Your mom almost screeched in denial, but your father swiftly nodded and grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the room. “Of course, sweetie.”

        As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Akaashi gnawed on his bottom lip nervously. “So….”

         You seemed to snap out of it and turned to him with blank eyes. Your form was slumped back against the pillows of the hospital bed and you fiddled with the white cotton blanket. A thin, white nightgown covered your body, but it seemed to tremble every few seconds. Or maybe that was you. “Keiji.” 

        He took the cue and scurried to your bedside, grabbing your IV-plugged hand in his own. The pads of his fingers ran over your skin in a comforting manner, but he wasn’t exactly sure if it was helping any. “YN… what-”

        “The doctor said I have like a year.” You sounded so distant, locked away deep inside yourself. Almost confused at what was happening, but you also knew your fate. 

        Akaashi couldn’t breathe. His eyes watered and his brows furrowed and he almost grew angry at your dismissive state. But he couldn’t be mad at you. It wasn’t your fault. 

        “What,” he shakily whispered, whole body rigid, “YN, what happened?”

        “I don’t know,” your voice cracked, and suddenly the facade fell. Or maybe reality finally set in. “They said I’m sick or something and it’s incurable and I’m going to die! Oh God, I’m going to die, Keiji!” You wailed and bawled and cried as much as you could, and Akaashi let his tears flow too. 

        “I don’t wanna die!”

        Akaashi nodded, grimacing and clenching his eyes closed while he sat on your bed and hugged you. 

        “Please, I don’t wanna die!” 

        Your body convulsed in his grasp as you heaved out sobs, afraid of something you couldn’t fight. This was a battle no one could win. This was fate. 

        Akaashi cursed under his breath as he rocked you back and forth, running a hand through your tangled strands before whispering soft reassurances to your deaf ears. 

        You began to cough and hiccup, shoving your face deeper into his soaked shoulder. 

        Nothing could be said. Nothing could be done. 

        The room was tense, filled with utter, uncontrolled fear. 

        Nothing could stop this.

        “Please don’t let me die.” 

        Akaashi’s bloodshot eyes opened in the slightest as an idea hit him. He squeezed you tighter as your sobs slowed to whimpers, and shook his head. I won’t let that happen.

                                ~~~

        “Do you have an eight?”

        “Go fish.”

        “Fuck.”

        “Do you have a king?”

        “...No.”

        “YN.”

        “FINE!” You threw your cards down on the bed with a pout. Akaashi chuckled and gathered up the cards, giving you a smug glance. 

        “What is it you said to me when we were kids? ‘How does it feel to suck?’”

        You stuck out your tongue and batted his teasing hands away before folding your arms. “Shut up,” you muttered. 

        The hospital room was becoming more and more your own. Flowers decorated the windowsill, a couple books sat on the nightstand, and you even had a few folded cranes of Akaashi’s on your headboard. 

        Months had passed, nine to be specific, since you got the diagnosis. Time was running out. 

        “Well, YN, I brought your homework.” Akaashi dug around in his bag before pulling out a stack of assignments. A bright yellow sticky note sat on the top with your name scribbled haphazardly. 

        “You know, Keiji, it’s funny you think I’d actually spend my time doing that instead of, oh I don’t know,” you playfully shrugged, “having fun the rest of my life.” 

        Akaashi gulped but forced his smile to remain steady on his face. For you.

        “I think you should still do it, YN. It’ll keep you smart.” 

        “What smarts am I gonna need when I’m-” 

        “YN please.” Akaashi winced at your recent lax in self-respect. A muscle in his jaw irked at the thought, but his eyes stayed locked on the cranes just above your head. 

        You nodded and softened your gaze. “Sorry, Keiji.” You held out your hands and accepted the papers he handed you. “I’ll try my best on them.”

        “Thank you. And don’t forget to use my notes,” Akaashi added.

        “How could I,” you scoffed. “Half of ‘em are done in glitter pens.” The corner of Akaashi’s mouth quirked up at the thought. 

        “Only ‘cause I know you like them that way.” Akaashi leaned in to give you a hug, pressing a kiss to your hair that he knew you couldn’t feel. Your warmth, the warmth you filled his heart with, made him never want to leave. But he had to. 

        “All right, I have to go, but before I do,” Akaashi dug around in his bag for a second before locating his gift with a sparkle in his eyes. “Here.”

        A blue paper crane was set in your palm, and his fingers brushed yours before he pulled them away. Your body wiggled in happiness at the new addition. 

        “Yay! Another one! How about I call this one…” you trailed off, tapping your chin in thought. Then you pointed your finger in the air in glee. “Perry! What do you think, Keiji?” 

        You reached up and set the crane along with the others while Akaashi nodded in agreement. “It’s perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, YN.” 

        Just as Akaashi stepped away, you grabbed his hand and tugged it to gain his attention once again. 

        “What’s wrong?” 

        You scrutinized his face with narrowed eyes, reaching your hand up and brushing your fingers just above his cheeks. “Keiji?”

        “Hmm?” His eyes were almost closed in bliss, enjoying every spark of exhilaration that came with your touch. He flinched when you patted his cheek roughly. 

        “Get some more sleep at night. You look like shit.” 

        Blue eyes flickering open, he covered your hand with his own and delivered a soft kiss to your palm. “Not in a million years.”

                                ~~~

        Everything around him was fuzzy and blurred. The room was so dim and warm. A wave of exhaustion hit him every two seconds, leaving his head reeling and his ears thumping. 

        And yet, he wouldn’t move. 

        No, not if he couldn’t help it. 

        Papercuts littered his fingers. Scraps and scraps of paper, all shapes, colors and sizes, laid out in front of him, along with one lone whiteboard and marker. 

        The sun was just beginning to rise outside his window, and birds began to stir in their nests. 

        Fuck, he was so tired. His body pleaded with him to close his eyes just once. 

        No. 

        Shuffling of parchment became his new white noise. The pads of his fingers were on fire with every fold and every crease. 

        Then he set the new crane behind him, uncapped the marker and drew a single tick mark. 

        “Eight-hundred and seventy-four,” he muttered with a sigh. 

        Another.

        He grabbed a new page with sore, pained arms, resisting the urge to yawn and starting anew. 

        Fold. Crease. Fold. Crease. Fold. 

        “Eight-hundred and seventy-five.”

                                ~~~

        “Ughhh yesss,” you moaned, licking the sweet stickiness off your fingers. “It’s been too long since I’ve had ice cream.” 

        Akaashi smiled at the sight. Your face had glowed with pure joy when he showed up with your favorite flavor, and you had deadpanned “I love you.”

        It was enough for him. He chuckled into his own bowl before swallowing another spoonful. “What, is the Jello not any good here?”

        You flipped him off and continued downing your cold treat. “Next time they try to force that gelatinous shit down my throat, I’m just gonna hop out the window.” 

        “From the fourth floor?”

        You shrugged. “Why not? I could make it! I’ve seen it in the movies, all you have to do is roll.” 

        Your dark haired friend scoffed at the thought. “Yes, please ‘roll.’ It will be much quicker travel than limping on two broken legs.” 

        You busted out laughing. “See? Now you get it!” Your face was frozen in pure joy as you held your ice cream. 

        This moment made it all worth it. You were beautiful. Completely happy and carefree for the first time in a year. Akaashi didn’t want you to worry anymore. 

        He would only hope that you could find someone to make you laugh like this again once he was gone. He didn’t want you to be alone like he had been before you. You were the light of his life. You made him discover a purpose for living, and you lead him through it. He would follow you to the ends of the Earth if need be. And now was the time to repay you.

        His bag was empty this visit aside from a single slip of paper. It was blue, your favorite color. “It reminds me of your eyes, which are really hot, by the way,” you had said.

        “I did my homework like you asked.” You nodded with complete self-assurance and even held up the assignment. “I might’ve gotten number three wrong though….”

        “That’s okay.” Akaashi set down his bowl and stood up, approaching your bedside with slow, purposeful steps. 

        You were breathtaking at this angle. The sun shined just barely through your room’s window, and lit up your entire face with a single ray. It emphasized the natural glow of life you already had. 

        Yeah, he could do this. For you, he would do anything. 

        When he stopped at your bedside, you shifted under your blankets until your legs hung off the side of the mattress. Completely facing him, you threw him a questioning glance. “What’s up?”

        “Can I kiss you?” 

        He had to at least try. If only once. 

        You stopped breathing and your heart stuttered in your chest. Akaashi could read it all over your flushed face that-- Thank God-- you felt the same way he did. 

        It was a mixture of euphoria and anxiousness that flooded his stomach when you nodded. A shy smile covered your face, and it grew larger the closer he leaned towards you. Then finally, your lips touched. 

        The kiss was soft and slow, with Akaashi’s hands landing on the bed around you to support himself. Your lips were plush and tasted like sugary sweetness, and he snatched up your chin the second you tried to pull away too soon. 

        This second kiss was more passionate, rushed and intoxicating. The fervor of it left you feeling light-headed and breathless. And loved. His lips smashed against your own in a desperation of showing how he felt. It was as if he was making up for lost time, or something opposite of that. 

        And then he pulled away, gasping for air and not regretting a thing. His hand slowly dropped from your chin and fell to your thigh, barely covered by the thin hospital gown. His fingertips, rougher than you remembered, gently massaged your skin, leaving you to sigh happily. 

        His forehead pressed against your own, and smiles were permanently etched on both your faces. 

        “I love you,” Akaashi finally whispered, eyes staring honestly into your own.

        “I love you too,” you pecked his lips once more and he returned it with ease. 

        You stayed like that for so long, just enjoying the feeling and proximity of one another. The air was clear. You loved each other. 

        But now, one of you had to let go.

        Akaashi pulled away slowly with one last peck. While you sat with affectionate eyes watching his every move, he dug in his bag and pulled out a slip of paper. 

        “You write me a letter or something?” you teased. 

        “This is better than any letter I could write you, love, trust me.” Akaashi threw you a soft smile before settling onto the bed beside you. 

        You watched in utter fascination as folded and pressed the paper with skilled fingers. 

        “Wow, Keiji, you’re so good at that!” You let a hand hover over his own and stop the process for a second. “How long have you been practicing?” 

        Akaashi froze in an instant, but quickly rolled his shoulders and relaxed his form, leaning himself closer to your presence. “Quite a while now, but I did it for you.” 

        You beamed at him, tears pricking your eyes. “Keiji….” With a small, disbelieving shake of your head, you pressed your lips to his own just one more time. This time as a thank you. 

        Then you urged him to continue with a slight wave of your hand. 

        And he did so. 

        Fold. Crease. Fold. Crease. Fold. 

        And at last, the final product. A single paper crane of gorgeous blue, just like his eyes. 

        “YN.”

        “Hmm?”

        Akaashi hands you the crane and stares deeply into your eyes. “I love you.” 

        “I love you too.” 

        “And I wish for your life to be spared. At the expense of my own.” 

        “What?” You giggle in confusion, growing more and more concerned as Akaashi’s eyes seem to flutter. 

        Then they close for one last time. 

        “Keiji?” 

        His body slumps back, falling like dead weight to the mattress of your hospital bed. 

        “Keiji?!”

        You were afraid. So afraid. 

        “Keiji, what did you do?” you mumble breathlessly, wide eyes locked on him. On his body. 

        “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” 

        Gut-wrenching sobs tore through your chest, leaving your whole form trembling. 

        “KEIJI!” Your blood-curdling screams led crowds of nurses to your room, but they could never pull you away. You, keeled over Akaashi’s lifeless form, refused to move even an inch. You hugged him close, wailing and wailing against his unmoving chest. Incoherent moans scratch your throat as you rock him back and forth, whispering I love yous one last time.

        The legend was uncomplicated, but so painfully real.

        A thousand paper cranes. One wish. 

        And Akaashi’s wish was simple. A life for a life. 

        Him. For you.

Indebted and In Debt (Vampire Kenma x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Kozume Kenma is one of the most infamous vampires to ever exist, the legends of him and his clan rivaling that of Dracula himself. His preserved sarcophagus lies in the heart of Tokyo’s Supernatural Museum, subsection C: Vampires. You, on the other hand, are the reason wet floor signs exist. A chance slip, an accidental cut, and a band aid missing the trash can all lead to the chance meeting of you and the vampire committed to serving you eternally. “I am forever indebted to you, Mistress.”

A/N: lil idea I just had. Don’t know where I’m gonna go w it, if anywhere, but like y’all can read it if u wanna🥺👉👈 Enjoy!

Word count: 3631

        “Years ago, this museum was founded after the first sighting of a werewolf in Tokyo. He was spotted at midnight under a full moon just as he- Ma’am, please refrain from touching the artifacts.”

        Sheepishly, you pulled your hand away from a hip-high ancient wood carving of a mermaid, inching your way back toward the group as the tour guide fixed you with a dirty look. With a small huff, she straightened her shoulders under her Victorian-style overcoat that matched the rest of her gothic getup. An ancient London day dress made her seem as though she had crawled out of one of the many paintings on the wall that depicted Jack the Ripper as numerous supernatural creatures. The only thing that set her apart was the ID badge that hung around her neck. 

        As you returned to both of your friends’ sides, you avoided their shaming gazes and instead busied yourself with pretending to listen to the tour guide as she restarted her monologue. 

        “YN,” one of your friends, Akira, hissed, “you promised you wouldn’t touch anything!”

        “I didn’t!” you whisper-yelled back. “The lady stopped me before I could.” 

        At your half-effort to clear yourself of blame, Akira leaned her head back and let out a loud sigh. Kanna watched the interaction with a ghost of a smile on her lips, sniggering a little as she always did when Akira lectured you. 

        Both of your friends had invited you with them today as a celebration of passing your first semester of college together. Kanna had obtained the tickets in some way that went along the lines of “My dad’s brother knows the cousin of a guy who…” yadda yadda yadda. 

        Either way, you agreed to go with because, as expected, nobody was watching you and everyone had their eyes on them. Both of your friends were significantly beautiful, Kanna towering over you with long slim legs and hair that trailed down her back in waves while Akira stood just about at your chin, her hair chopped into a bob that never failed to frame her glowing eyes and constant frown. 

        Standing with them was like hiding in plain sight--an effortless camouflage. 

        You only realized you were lost in thought when Akira stalked back from the tour group that had managed to travel thirty feet ahead of you, her hand grasping your arm and dragging you back up to join them. When you returned you saw Kanna flirting with a boy who looked around your age and you distantly remembered him from your chemistry class. 

        Of course, he didn’t recognize you. 

        As the tour group made its way through the cathedral-shaped museum, stopping for a few minutes at a time for each exhibit of mythical beasts, your gaze darted back and forth between the ever-growing collection of sculptures and weaponry. 

        You remember being obsessed with the supernatural as a child, even getting into some intense arguments about whether vampires or werewolves were better, but at some point the infatuation had faded away into passing fascination--you were almost envious that someone had been able to preserve their own childlike spirit so much that they created an entire museum for it. 

        The outside of the makeshift cathedral looked exactly how you’d expect: towering spires with windows of stained glass depicting angels, suns, and crosses. The inside, however, was so juxtaposingly modern that it slapped you in the face the minute you entered. The walls were painted black with maroon accents, effectively maintaining a gothic theme. Though yellow lights embedded in the ceiling lit up each hall, brass sconces were still nailed to the walls, balancing two flickering candles each. 

        Everyone walked down a red velvet carpet that covered polished dark wood underneath and muffled their footsteps, the dull thumps somehow making the museum more ominous. Much like the exhibit you were in now, which was centered around witches, a single television hung at the far end of each exhibition room, ceaselessly playing a small, summarizing video of the creature’s origins. 

        As it murmured in the background about how witches and wizards were not the same thing, you inspected a broomstick that was supposedly owned by a witch from Salem. It floated in the air with two clear strings tied around either end just above a carved marble pedestal holding a gold plaque. The broom of Sarah Good, it read, caught and hanged in the Salem Witch Trials. Her descendants now live in New Orleans, the supposed location of a secret witch coven.

        You licked your lips thoughtfully, moving onto the next artifact with vested interest. The next was a cat skull and on its plaque it explained-

        Before you even got to read the words, you lost your footing and toppled over, crashing to the ground in a single heap of limbs. 

        Ow.

        Groaning, you righted yourself back onto your butt, inspecting the untied shoelace that had sniped you. Several gasps rose around the room, but not for you. 

        The wooden stand holding the cat skull balanced now on a single leg, tipping over in slow motion. Crap! 

        You tried to scramble up onto your knees to catch the fallen display but before you could, a form blew past you in the blink of an eye and caught it in its tracks, righting it back on its four legs before recentering the cat skull. 

        A chuckle left the museum worker as he spun back to face you, piercing green eyes observing your fallen form. Well, piercing green eye--the other was covered by a tuft of black hair, just as spiky and wild as the rest on top of his head. As he smirked, you could see a hint of his canines, looking sharp enough to cut through skin. You blamed the sight on the lighting. 

        And on the obvious supernatural fetish. 

        The man offered a gloved hand to you, the rest of his form draped in a velvet black trench coat, and as he pulled you to your feet, you glanced at his ID tag. Kuroo Tetsurou, exhibit handler. Of course he would be on the lookout for clumsy visitors such as yourself. 

        Good thing, too, because you were like a bull in a china shop. 

        “Thank you,” you mumbled, half-avoiding your gaze because you were embarrassed and half because you were never too good at handling yourself like a normal human when it came to attractive men. 

        “Of course.” He held your gaze and hand for just a tad longer than was socially acceptable before letting go and stepping back. “Though, perhaps stay a couple feet back when observing the artifacts.” 

        Those “fangs” had to be fake. 

        The worker left you with one last chuckle and a wink before walking away, hopefully to never see you ever again. God, that was embarrassing! A small pout grew on your face as you flushed deep red, refraining from hiding your face in your hands because you knew that’s what everyone else in the room expected from you--you figured you’d entertained them enough for one day. 

        While glancing around for a hole to bury yourself and die in, you realized your tour group was long gone. The witch exhibit wasn’t exactly packed with people so you could easily tell your friends were gone as well. 

        Muttering a small curse, you made your way through to the exit, flinching.  when the animatronic witch posed at the door cackled in your ear. 

        The dimly-lit hall was clear of people aside from a few stragglers searching for a room to inspect. As you made your way down the hall, voices floated out from each room, none sounding familiar. Each doorway had its own silver plaque positioned above, naming the topics of the room. 

        Centaurs. Genies. Unicorns.

        The tour you had gotten tickets for stated that it wasn’t going to go into every room in the museum, but it would brush over the most popular exhibits. And if there was one thing you remembered, it was that the newly-renovated vampire exhibit was the main reason the group you traveled with was so large. 

        The museum had added an artifact that bolstered their popularity greatly--the supposed sarcophagus of Kozume Kenma, one of the leading vampires of the Nekoma Clan. 

        Vampires. There!

        You speed-walked into the room, slowing your steps when you entered because you’d recently learned where traveling through an expensive exhibit without thinking would get you. 

        And yet, when you bursted into the room and saw a glimpse of Kanna’s black hair bouncing through the exit, you threw all caution to the wind.

        “Kanna!” You zipped in between the red ropes restricting visitors from getting too close to the paintings, darting around glass cases holding blood-stained cloaks and taxidermy bats while waving your arms like that would somehow catch the eyes of someone with their back turned. “Kan-NUH!”

        A wrinkle in the carpet launched you forward and you waved your arms wildly for balance. 

        If anyone had entered the room at that moment, they would have walked right out. You looked insane, like you were acting out your own rendition of monkey-turning-to-woman.

        Your fall landed you against a table where a sharpened blade sat, pointed upward for show. One hand slammed against the surface of the marble while the other, in your panic, slid just along the razor-sharp edge. 

        Shock came first and you flung your arm away with a gasp, stumbling back and crashing into what felt like another table. You reached your bleeding hand back blindly to stable yourself while the other reached up to press against your racing heart. 

        The pain was finally kicking in and the break in your palm began to drip down your hand, leaking blood with ease. Your hand shook so bad you could barely feel it, numb with panic as you gasped for breath. 

        Finally, when your gaze stopped wavering in sync with the pounding of your head, you glanced over at the sword display. No blood seemed to stain the blade, but a large sign hung just in the background stating PLEASE DON’T TOUCH!

        Definitely not a first for you.

        You looked over your shoulder out of instinct for just a second, wanting to see what sat on the table you currently leant on to see what other rules you were breaking, only to feel your throat close up at the sight. 

        A mummy sat in a polished black coffin, carved of wood with details of vines, leaves, and finally a cat’s yowling face carved into the latch that hung over the cracked-open space. A bloodied half hand-print sat right at the head of the body, coloring the mouth area red while the rest of the wrapping remained an aged white. 

        “Shit!” you hissed with panicked eyes, lunging back and away. “Shit, shit, shit! Oh, I’m so fucked.” A large sign, even bigger than the flatscreen that played the story of the first vampire, read DO NOT TOUCH OR APPROACH. SARCOPHAGUS IS EXTREMELY FRAGILE. 

        The three underlines of each word hit you like a freight train and you almost gagged. Unlike your other little slip-ups, this one would seriously cost you. 

        There was no way the coffin didn’t cost more than your apartment and college tuition combined, and you were already toeing the line of serious debt. 

        Do I tell someone? Do I not tell someone and let myself get caught?

        In terms of damage, the mummy looked totally fine. The small discoloring around the mouth was barely even noticeable from your ten-foot distance away, but the closer someone would get, the easier it would be able to see. Other random speckles of stains littered the wrappings, of course due to age, but in a museum for vampires? With red stains on the mouth of said vampire?

        Someone would see. Eventually. But according to the sign, no one would get close to it for a while. 

        Maybe you would escape this scot-free. 

        Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and fished for a band aid in your pocket. Injuries were common so you always kept some on hand. 

        “You’re gonna be fine, YN,” you mumbled to yourself, fighting to tear open the wrapper. Your hands were shaking so badly it was almost impossible and tears stung your eyes. “You’re gonna be fine. Just take deep breaths.”

        After five minutes of shaky fumbling and calm words, you finally just ripped the package in half and pulled out of the now-deformed band aid, slamming it over your wound and calling it a day. 

        Yesterday, you took four finals in four classes. Today, you damaged a fragile museum artifact that, if caught, would cost you thousands. 

        You were going fucking home. 

        You tossed your band aid wrapper in the trash with a huff, not noticing the single, stained paper fluttering to the floor just in front of the exit. 

                                +++

        Blood. Air. 

        Blood. Sweet, sweet blood. 

        Thirsty. Hungry. 

        Dark. 

        Pain. 

        Escape.

        Escape.

        Escape.

        Hoarse wheezes was all Kenma could manage as he lay stock-still on a soft surface. Pins and needles pricked at his every limb and he almost groaned in relief because it meant he was alive. 

        His tongue was heavy as a rock and was dry as sandpaper but he could still taste the sweet flavor on his tongue. Metallic-like, it was both nourishing and yet not enough.

        No, no. Definitely not enough. He needed more.

        Twitching his finger was an exercise that if he wasn’t completely dehydrated would have worked up a sweat. Moving the rest of his arm made him wish his death had lasted. 

        But someone had blessed him with blood, with life, and now he had a debt to repay. 

        Kenma wasn’t like Kuroo. He followed the ancient laws of vampires, now matter how outdated they were. Born-vampires had one code, and that was that whoever gave you blood and therefore everlasting life, was your master forever. 

        This was code. 

        Kenma thought of Kuroo and how he’d taken blood from all kinds of people, an action that would’ve been called taboo by the vampires of old. 

        Then Kenma thought of Kuroo alone and wondered just where he was. 

        It was completely dark, and each muscle he moved seemed trapped in the same position. A loud rip split the silence that previously mingled with Kenma’s wheezing as he reached up an arm and patted at his face. 

        Trapped. Stuck. Wrapped in something?

        “K…” Kenma tried to call Kuroo’s name, but even the first letter scraped at his throat hard enough that he gagged. 

        It was so dry. He needed more of the blood he’d given. 

        Just a drop would be a blessing. 

        “Ku…”

        But he had to get out first. 

        If he knew one thing about Kuroo, it was that the man was loyal. If he knew another, it was that he was also immortal. 

        Because Kenma followed the ways of the code, he was the right hand man of the Nekoma Clan. Kuroo was the leader, but he knew to protect his own.

        “Kuro...Kuroo.”

        The pain was irrelevant. His hand still scratched at his face, slowly yet desperately as he ached to tear away the cloth. To see light for the first time in centuries. 

        Footsteps echoed miles away, perking Kenma’s ears. 

        “Kuroo...Kuroo.”

        They drew closer and closer, ever so muffled through the wrappings that trapped Kenma in darkness. 

        “Kuroo...please.”

        A hand batted away the one Kenma kept patting over his face and Kenma heard the zing of a blade. 

        “Kuroo…”

        “Shh.” Kuroo’s voice urging Kenma to shut up had never sounded so melodic. “I’m here. I’m here.” 

        Kenma let himself relax, allowing Kuroo to cut through the thick cloths encasing his body like a cast. The latter cursed under his breath each time he sliced a bit too close to the skin, almost breaking it. 

        The process was long and painful. After coming back to life, Kenma suddenly had the urge to move, something he’d never had before. 

        Except he knew exactly why he needed to move. He needed to find them. Whoever they were. 

        Though eternal servitude was never exactly Kenma’s life goal, he knew it was an honor to be deemed worthy as someone worth eternal life. To be given such a gift was a sign that your life was meant to be spared. 

        When all the bindings split away and Kenma could open his eyes, a ringing burst in his ears accompanied by a pounding headache. He’d never known candles to burn so brightly, but maybe that was something of this new age. Or perhaps he was laying below a skylight. 

        Neither. The light source was a rectangular shape directly above, harnessing the light of a thousand white flames to make the room glow. It buzzed as well, or perhaps that was the few moths that flew around it. 

        “Kuroo,” Kenma reached a hand up to cover his eyes, “I have to-”

        “Shh.” The older hushed him once more before holding a cup to his lips. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

        The cup was dark and Kenma couldn’t see what was inside of it. Panic struck his heart and with a sudden burst of energy, he slapped the cup away from his face.

        “NO!”

        The cup flew, spilling clear liquid through the air before cracking against the floor with a splat. The older man in the room sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. 

        “Kenma, come on. I know the dumbass laws and your dumbass willingness to abide by them. You know I wouldn’t force you to drink blood you didn’t want.”

        Kuroo was right. Kenma trusted him to not force blood on him and he trusted Kuroo not to try and bring him back either. Kenma wanted his revival, if it were to ever happen, to be of someone else’s desire to revive him. 

        He’d just… panicked.

        “I know.” His throat suddenly felt parched and sickly and Kenma returned his gaze to Kuroo’s face. “Could you…?”

        “Yeah, I’ll go get another one.”

                                +++

        “I’ll never let go, Jack.”

        “Just move over on the door, bitch!” you wailed, sobbing into your ice cream and curling deeper into your blankets as the movie drew to a close. Tears ran down your face and half a tissue box sat in numerous crumpled-up balls on your coffee table. 

        To be fair, a large majority of them came from when you first got home from the museum. After throwing yourself a pity party, you decided to give yourself even more reason to cry by watching the Titanic movie over a bowl of ice cream.

        Your phone sat beside the used tissues, occasionally lighting up with missed calls from your friends hours earlier. Texting felt like a waste of energy, and you could certainly tell them what happened tomorrow.

        If you weren’t being arrested for damaging museum property at that time. 

        Even the thought sprung another nervous wave of tears to your eyes and you clicked off the movie, searching for another story to bawl your eyes out to. 

        Three loud knocks cracked at your door, making you flinch. 

        Probably Akira and Kanna, worried out of their minds. 

        “Guys,” you stood up and turned on your living room lights before walking to your front door, “I promise I’m fine. Something just happened today that really-”

        But when you turned the knob, it was neither of your friends. 

        It wasn’t even female. 

        It was two guys, one looking vaguely familiar while the other was entirely unknown to you. 

        The first, significantly taller and with the same ruffled hair, was Kuroo. Just the sight of the museum worker made you want to jump out your window and onto the sidewalk ten floors below. 

        The other was shorter with blond hair just past his chin, the roots a dark brown. His eyes were glowing with a sort of anticipation but his face appeared otherwise bored. 

        Nerves began to dance under your skin and you shifted from foot to foot, your hand still on the door. You only realized you were biting your lip when both men drew their gazes to the action, and after that you immediately stopped. 

        “Uhh, y-yes?” You gulped and watched them both with flared nostrils, ignoring the way the blond’s eyes followed your throat. “Did you n-need something, offic- I mean sirs?”

        The familiar one’s lips quirked, something akin to amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched your anxious movements. Yet, he never said a word. 

        Instead, the blond one stepped forward, somehow looking uncomfortable in a red sweatshirt and black sweatpants. There was an air of seriousness around him even as his face gave off a feeling of nonchalance. 

        Here it comes.

        You tensed up your shoulders and closed your eyes, waiting for the words of your doom. 

        Instead, cold fingers grabbed the hand you had limp at your side and you felt a softness brush over the back. 

        You opened your eyes once more only to see a small smile with fangs peaking out as the blond pulled his lips away from your hand. 

        “I am forever indebted to you, Mistress.”

        “What?”