You’re Horny (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

Look Me in the Eyes (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: During naval training, your jet crashed and burned, taking your memories with it. But the lieutenant who saved you seems to know you better than he lets on. The only issue is that he refuses to tell you his name.

A/N: pfft half yall don’t read this anyway so imma just say rooster’s hot, oreosmama out *drops mic*

Word count: 3345

It’s not the pervading scent of antiseptic and boredom that has carved its way into your skin, nestling deep into the creases of your brow and your sneering upper lip—

It’s his unflinching gaze.

The lieutenant hovering over you, with a spoonful of green, gelatinous “dinner” posed over your lips, mumbles, “Open the hatch, the F-18 needs to land.” 

He’s a staunchly built man ornamented in the same naval jacket he’d been wearing when you first came-to in the hospital room, his lofty shoulders embellished in unfamiliar patches. Over the last two days, most of which have consisted of him lording himself over you or sitting back in the chair beside your bed, his five o’clock shadow has thickened, and the wrinkles underneath his teasing eyes darkened a shade.

The F-18 bumps against your sneer, and he chortles to himself. 

You know why you’re here. 

Well, sort of.

You know that it must’ve hurt. Like a falling-unconscious-due-to-pain kind of hurt. Black and blue splotches paint your temple and upper left cheek, and each time you force a smile, it aches. The rest of your body looks the same. In the first shower you’d been allowed, you twisted and turned as much as your burning abdomen could handle and had come to the conclusion that you were glad you didn’t remember much of what had happened.

The only real issue was that you didn’t remember much of anything. 

The story you had been told was haphazardly crafted, not unlike if a toddler had drawn a house with crayons and passed it to you, insisting it looked exactly like the one you lived in. 

It goes something like this: you were flying your jet when the engine stalled, and when you ejected, your head smacked against the windshield. You were lucky—you were unconscious when you had crumpled in on yourself, snapping five of your ribs like pencils, and when you’d landed on the ground, face in the dirt—you were so, so lucky. 

But the lieutenant says differently. 

When he found you, you were awake. You were echoing his name into the stagnant desert air, screaming and sobbing in ways that still keep him up at night. 

You know because he sleeps with folded arms on the edge of your mattress, and he rattles the metal skeleton each time he flinches. And the times when he thinks you’re too buried in exhaustion and slumber, his hand finds yours, fingertips light as air against your skin.

These are the only times the lieutenant bares that part of himself to you. 

In the mornings, when you can look him in the eyes and see the guilt buried underneath, he winces a smile onto his lips and asks if you remember anything yet. 

You don't.

And he winces again. “Back to the drawing board, huh?”

The lieutenant is a nice-enough man when he wants to be. The only issue is that he doesn’t seem to want to be. 

“Tell me your name,” you snipe, dangling over the precipice of flinging Jell-O across the room. 

This is a game he never wants to play, despite how often he wins. He has the whole naval base’s hospital staff refer to him as Sir or Lieutenant-no-last-name, and each time you ask, he’ll give you the same response.

“You know my name.” 

You don't. He’s a complete stranger. He can hold you hand and feed you Jell-O and help you hobble to the bathroom; he can brush the hair from your sweat-crusted face in the mornings and, on some rare occasions where he thinks he’s woken up before you, he’ll graze a feather-soft kiss on your bruised temple.

And you still haven't got a clue. 

Because whoever the lieutenant is, the tight grip he has on your heart is completely foreign to you. It’s a grip that says you and him aren’t just something definable—you were a we in this life; the pair of you have formed a way of living in tandem, your own intrinsic tango to which nobody else knows the steps. It’s not just like or a passing fancy. It’s not just hot static running through veins. 

This is fully fledged; this is oxygen now. The rise and fall of your chest is the rise and fall of his. The absence of it must be suffocating. 

So you don't know why he doesn’t like this game. He makes a question-answer into a back-and-forth, and then he winds and winds you up until you’re ready to snap. 

It’s not fair. God, it’s not fair. You deserve to know his name. Doesn’t he know it’s not just a tickle in the back of your mind anymore? If he was the one whose name you were screaming, didn’t you deserve to know what it was?

“Why do you keep doing this?” 

You watch his lips purse, the color bleeding out of them and into pink patches on his neck and cheeks. The spoon rattles against the tray, and the glob of green wavers in its curve. He refuses to hold your gaze like always. Self-inflicted torment disguises itself as burnt-sienna irises. The life you’ve forgotten is bowing his shoulders, and your crash, no matter the fact that he saved you, is eating away at him. 

Then the lieutenant smiles, in the fractured way—the way someone might laugh at a funeral. 

“Because knowing my name wouldn’t help you. You never called me by it, anyway.”

This, oh God—this is the closest you’ve ever gotten, and you’re still wading in the darkness. A name you’d never even call him by, what a wonder that does to your psyche. 

A name was a start; it was a first impression. There was a lot in a name. 

So you’d never called him by his name… so what?

So what, only lovers knew each other by more than a name? So what, he never called you by yours? So what, you didn’t want to ever call him by his name, never felt the urge, but felt it was rather proper considering you didn’t know what to call him at all?

He keeps you doggy-paddling for it.

The hospital room is polluted with silence for the rest of the night. Slowly, you finish the Jell-O as he sits back in his chair, watching, yet not quite seeing you. You missed when his staring felt like a buzzing fly. Now it’s a thunderstorm hanging over you, foggy and dampened, and you’re struck every few seconds with a shiver. 

He doesn’t reach out for your hand when you pretend you’ve fallen asleep. Twenty minutes past lights out, he stands and heads into the bathroom, slowly creaking the door closed and locking it before the shower faucet turns on and stays on for a long, long time. 

Where his hand should be is where he laid his jacket, one sewn patch erroneously rough against your palm. With another glance at the light underneath the bathroom door, you haul the leather jacket up into your lap, tracing the ridges and folds. You trails your fingertips along the jacket, searching for… something. Anything. 

Cold metal, a zipper slips underneath your fingers, and you sit up straighter despite the outcry of pain in your ribs. 

A pocket, and inside is a small plastic card—his ID. 

That, and a small, velvet box. 

No…

No, you won’t open it. 

No, no, because he shouldn’t even have that here. 

Why—dear God—why did he have that here?

It’s not for you. That’s for sure. You don’t even want to open it. No.

It’s not yours. It’s not yours to have, especially since he hasn’t offered it to you, and it’s not yours to wear, and it’s not yours to look at, to watch, iridescent, crystal devotion reflecting the moonlight from the room’s lone window. 

But when you lift the cover and curse the stars that the man whose name you don’t even know knows you so well, knows how beautiful it is in your eyes, and even worse, how well it fits on your finger, you know it’s yours. 

Well, not yours. 

It’s hers. The one before the crash’s. 

That’s her ring on your finger, and that’s her lieutenant grieving in the bathroom. 

This is her life, not yours. All you own anymore is the absence pulsing in your chest. 

You own the spasms in your veins, the brief and lasting panic of who am I, really?, the deficiency of life and past and love; the frail hold on this reality, on that man, on this ring. 

The rest is not yours, so you should let it go. 

Then, ideally, you should be able to float away, free from these junctions to a girl you don’t know. The man who loves her loves your face. He loves your body, and your voice, and each of the words falling from your lips, perhaps in the wrong order, yes, but he’ll rearrange them in his mind so that it matches hers.

Ideally. 

Ideally, it’s not this drowning feeling, a weight like a hand pressing hard against your chest, shoving you deeper and deeper under the current. She’s the one who breathes, not you. You don’t need to breathe. You’re an accident in this world. 

The I.D. slips from your grasp and falls to the floor. 

You’ve read it. You saw the name, the rank, the naval symbol. In the dim moonlight and the single glowing strip underneath the bathroom door, his not-really-a-smile smiles up at you from the vinyl floor. 

And now you see it, chrome duct tape peeling off the jagged stitches of a patch, the one over his heart. Another of his games: his missing call sign. 

It… fits him. Strangely enough. 

Is this what you called him?

The hospital room floods with a subdued yellow light carried out by the steam of the lieutenant’s shower. He emerges with a towel wrapped around his lower body, a sheen of wet on his cheeks you’re not certain was caused by the shower. 

Like you, this is his third shower in this room, but unlike him, he’s not wearing a smirk when he exits, bare feet padding along the cold tiles. He doesn’t spare you a glance while he pilfers through his black duffle bag, the one seated on the only other guest chair in the room—the one that never moves. 

Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t look, because you hadn’t thought to take off the ring. It was a plan as half-baked as when you’d first decided to put it on. Some barbaric, frenzied part of you, the same one that had slipped it on and hugged it close to your heart, refused to yank it off. It was another you—not her nor you, but a new one that had fallen in love with him, Rooster, without memory or qualms, the one that had no issue with him lingering in every corner of your mind; no, in fact, she preferred it.

You don’t listen to her when the lieutenant pivots back to face you, a fresh pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and the rest sourced from the duffel bag in tow, one fist curled into his towel at his waist. His eyes land on yours, and your fingers slicken with the sweat of your palms, tremble like the thumps beneath your ribcage. 

At the worst moment possible, you notice, in the hazy yellow light of 10:07 PM, that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw’s eyes are achingly akin to whiskey. It’s the dark, thick kind that coats your tongue and hits you five seconds after you sip it like a freight train; heady, terribly intoxicating, and in large doses, coaxes out the worst side of yourself at an even worse moment. 

The ring clinks against the bed’s metal framework before shuddering against the tile floor, and his eyes leave yours to watch it rattle. The skin of your left ring finger burns from the swift twisting and tugging you’d employed in a state of tipsy panic—your plan had been to slip the ring unnoticed beneath his leather jacket, the same place you’d stuffed the velvet box. 

A breath tears itself out of the lieutenant’s chest. Tan skin rises and falls once, and his grip goes white-knuckle on his towel. 

Then he pads back toward the bathroom without a word and disappears behind the slammed door. Somehow, in some terrible way, it is even harder to breathe with him not in the room after that. 

But he bursts through the door a second later, completely negligent of the violent pacing of your heart, donned in clothes wrinkled and stretched in odd places from frantic dressing. He covers the distance with three long strides and slackens back into the plastic hospital chair, the heavy creases under his eyes never having looked so deep-seated. 

You see it now. The damage this whole experience has done to him. He’s been hollowed out, rigorously gutted to the point that one last revelation might finally crack him in half and let the despair pour out. 

You’re afraid to tell him all that you don’t know. That even though you had slid that ring on and off your finger, you still don’t know him. But, God, you want to tell him that you love him, despite knowing it won’t be enough. It’s not even enough to you, and it’s all that you have. 

Usually, he wears this sheen layer of tenderness over his face; it slips off every night when you close your eyes, and he smooths it back on in the mornings in the mirror. Some days he layers it on so thick you never even notice the grief hidden underneath. 

It must have gotten too heavy to bear. 

The silence hangs just as heavy. He runs both hands down his face, pressing hard enough that his skin emerges pink, and folds his hands, knocking them against his lips. Veins in his eyes grow redder by the second, and your heart begins a slow crawl up your throat at the watery levels of his eyelines, waiting to spill. The ring sits on the floor untouched. 

“Do you,” he faltered, clearing his throat. “Do you… remember anything?”

He’s looking at you so intensely that your skin is searing. Shame washes over you, grasping your shoulders and burying you deeply into its chest. You want to cry. 

“Nothing.”

The lieutenant stares at you a second longer, stretching it out until you’re trembling. Then he looks away, down, before reaching and retrieving the ring from the ground. He observes it for just a second, the way it glimmers in night’s imperfect lighting, and his eyes squeeze shut.

Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, you’ve learned, will draw things out until the perfect moment has come. He will wait until the ache swells and culminates, with a tolerance so inexhaustible you wonder if, in all your time loving him, you ever bothered to wait up. He’s noticed how the darkness has swallowed both of you wholly, and only now does he offer reprieve. 

Bradley tells you your name.

And he tells you that he’s been in love with you since the first second he saw you. 

He tells you that he can’t bear the thought of losing all that you’d had, and that his world had been crumbling apart before his own goddamned eyes ever since your jet’s engine had sputtered and died. He tells you that he’s so, so fucking sorry he couldn’t save you, sorry that your life ever got entangled so messily with his in the first place, and even more sorry that he’s so useless to help you find your way back, that you can’t seem to find your way back to him. 

And when you began to cry, he bolted up from his seat and held you, whispering apologies into your hair, and you cried a little harder, because you had found your way back to him, but he wouldn’t ever care, because it wasn’t the same path you’d taken before. 

You cry because it hurts to hold him, and even more because it hurts him to hold you. You want all of the I-love-yous he’s ever said to be for you, and you want that damned ring too. 

You want that goddamn ring on your finger right now because he’d promised you that it would be yours. That first moment he’d ever seen you, stumbling drunk in a crowded Hard Deck and spilling his beer half on his Hawaiian shirt, half on yours, that he’d make up for it by putting a spendy ring on your little finger right there, despite not actually knowing where right there was. The only one I’ll ever buy, he’d hiccuped, it’ll be yours, darlin’. 

“Rooster,” you croaked into his chest. “Roo.”

A provoked sob tore from your throat, your arms and ribs aching from how tightly you clung to him, even after he froze. You surfaced from the curve of his shoulder, hands sliding past his sides, over his thrumming chest, and up to cradle his damp jawline before drawing his face down to yours. He mumbled your name, whiskey eyes potent as ever, and you smothered the rest of his question against your lips. 

You couldn’t tell who was crying anymore. Your cheeks’ dampness was his, just the same as his lips pressed against yours so harshly, so numbingly you couldn’t quite tell where yours ended and his began. It must have been somewhere close to where his tongue met yours, making up for lost time as he fought hard and fiercely for everything he’d been starved of for three, going on four, unbearable days. His hands left their leverage against the bed and latched onto your hips, rough fingertips familiarly caressing the soft slopes of your sides, and when you offered an airy moan to him, he accepted eagerly with a tightening grip. 

You separated from him with a small cry, ribs twinging. Bradley pulled away in horror, and his dilated pupils struggled to sober up to join. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, larger hands now grappling at yours and trying to remove your grasp. “You need—ice, I’ll go get you some ice–”

“Roo, no,” you mumbled, refusing to let go of him. 

He paused, and his body shivered under your touch. The familiarity of his name from your mouth seemed as comforting to him as it was to you. His lips twitched and curled, and he breathed a small sigh. The hard lines of his face grew tender as he slid his hands down to your wrists, turning and pressing a kiss to each palm. 

His heart jumped and throbbed against your fingertips, and you had no doubt he could feel the same from yours. The heat of his damp cheeks had grown infinitely warmer under your touch, and for all the nights you’d spent with just a grasp on his hand, the change was more and more welcome. 

“Don’t leave me again,” he pleaded against the skin of your palm, voice thick and bittersweet, like honey seeping through your ears. “I don’t think I can handle that again.”

He steeled himself against your mattress with one hand when you tugged his forehead down against yours, lips just whispering against one another. You smiled. 

“Was it all the Jell-O that did you in, or…?”

“Yeah, actually,” he nodded, tongue pressed against his cheek. “It was. I hope you know we’re never having Jell-O in our house ever again.”

“Not even lime?”

“Especially lime.”

You huffed, “Fine.” You pulled away, despite how desperate Bradley was to follow you. He let you fall back against the pillows with your hand still in his grasp, and he settled onto the edge of the mattress, letting his spare hand find home in the pliant skin of your thigh. Your eyes rose to the ceiling. “But it’ll cost you.”

Soft lips brushed the back of your left hand before cold metal slipped around your finger. “One of these?”

“Exactly.”

Bradley hummed. “Gladly.”

The Luna Hunt (Alpha Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You don’t need a mate right now; you’ve got more important things, like revenge, on your mind. But the Alpha King needs a mate to take his throne, and now he’s come to town to take you. 

A/N: okay, tell me if I’m wrong but like y’all have read this plot eighty bajillion times on Wattpad before, right? Ehh, I literally thought of it in the shower and it might be some sort of stealing from some unknown author I read back when I was a young, young Oreosmama, but I’m still gonna post it for now bc I like it. I channeled my inner Wattpad writer for this too so I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4244

        Someone should have told the Alpha King that lining up one thousand-something girls shoulder to shoulder in ninety degree weather was a mistake waiting to happen.

        “Achoo!”

        Your sneeze caught the attention--and glares--of the six or so girls lined up on either side of you, each with their own individual reactions. The girl directly to your left, for instance, smiled pityingly and passed you a kleenex from a package sitting in her purse just beside her feet. 

        “I get allergies too,” she shrugged, “always good to keep some handy, don’t you think?” Mustering the most sincere grin you could, you nodded in thanks and accepted the tissue. 

        Sweat dripped down your temple and slid down far enough to disappear under the color of your windbreaker, a piece of clothing that had made you the outcast of the day evidently. 

        You didn’t care. You wore it for a reason. 

        As more pollen tickled your nose, you leaned forward just a bit to see how far away the man traveling down the line was. Good, you thought, I still have enough time. 

        Though he was just a tiny speck from your place somewhere in the middle-end range of the line, you could feel the tension he was inflicting on his audience. 

        The Alpha King. Like all his fathers before him, he was traveling from town to town in search of his predestined mate so he could finally take his place on the throne. He was the ripe age of twenty and, according to all the times you had seen him on the news, he was quite the looker. 

        Though technically illegitimate because his father and mother had produced him before marriage, the Alpha King of this century was especially distinctive for an entirely different reason--he was hot. 

        With blond hair that always seemed to be ruffled and crimson irises that could singe off your eyebrows, Katsuki Bakugou was a young king known to all. Even grandmothers, though they disapproved of his less-than mannerly attitude, still swooned at his natural beauty. 

        Every time you saw him on TV when you were younger, he would always have that permanent scowl etched on his face. And, like most other girls at the time, you wished you could have been the one to turn it upside down. 

        Then you grew up and realized he didn’t really matter. At least not to you. 

        He was just another alpha, albeit the one of the largest pack in the world. Unlike most packs, the Bakugous’ numbers reached into the hundred millions and had towns scattered all over the nation. They were known to be untouchable, and it was an honor to be a part of them. 

        “God, could this go any slower?” Your eyebrows rose in surprise at the groan of the girl next to you. Though she seemed even less interested in the event happening around her with gum smacking and eyes rolling, it seemed her family had at least convinced--or maybe forced--her into a dress that made her blend well with the other girls. 

        Well, at least you weren’t entirely alone in your dreading of this process. 

        The process itself wasn’t particularly a rager but it was a sacred tradition that the Bakugou pack insisted on continuing. This was how the Luna Queen was found, wherever she was. 

        You just wished she’d show up soon so you could get this show on the road. 

        Bakugou Katsuki, however, seemed to be taking his sweet time sniffing down the line of women in the open field of your hometown. Parents and other not-of-age people were forced to stay in their homes so as to not interfere with this careful procedure, and that was the one thing you were thankful for--the one thing you were looking forward to. 

        Now, you just had to wait for the bodyguard of your particular clump of women to step away so the king could smell each of you individually. Mates’ scents are supposed to stand out in crowds of millions, but after one particular sick incident so many centuries ago where a certain Alpha King ended up with a stuffy nose, they decided to leave the kings unescorted as they walked along the line. 

        And so here you were, waiting ever so patiently for Mr. Rhinoceros-neck to step back and away to join the rest of his fellow betas as they guarded the king from a calculated distance of seventy feet. 

        But, of course, Bakugou Katsuki was taking his sweet time. 

        Part of you almost pitied the girls beside you, obviously making the mistake of not wearing sunscreen. You memorized the day's exact weather report and were determined to not let even a sunburn stop you from your mission. 

        Though, maybe a reapplication wouldn’t hurt since you seemed to be sweating off your first layer of SPF 60. Perhaps the windbreaker you zipped over a thick black sweatshirt was a bit of overkill but it was all part of your plot. 

        Heat strokes be damned--you were not screwing up today. 

        Twenty minutes crawled by at a snail’s pace and in that time, the scent of deodorant and perfume reached its crescendo. Girls in skin-tight, above-the-knee dresses reapplied just a touch of antiperspirant with ease as the Alpha King made his way closer and closer to your gaggle of a hundred or so women. The other girls who had gone with more modest skirts and dressy blouses, however, had a bit more trouble tackling the B.O. issue. 

        The sun reached its peak in the sky and you checked your phone to make sure you hadn’t counted wrong. 

        Nope, no mistakes here. Four hours you’d been standing in that line with Miss Smacks-her-gum on your right and Lady Kleenex on your left. Smacks-her-gum had made the mistake of not wearing sweatproof mascara but you weren’t going to tell her that anytime soon. Trapped in a black leather jacket over a poofy black skirt that tickled your own legs beneath their leggings, she looked about two seconds from blowing her top or passing out--you hoped you weren’t going to be around to see either. 

        “Ooh, he’s getting closer,” Kleenex squeaked out, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger out of habit. “Damn, he’s so cute.” She glanced back at you with a nervous smile. “I really do wish I was his mate but, God, what are the odds, right?”

        “Yeah,” you breathed out with a friendly smile, waiting until she returned her attention to the direction of the Alpha King, for she would be the first one he sniffed of your little trio, before dropping the smile entirely, “what are the odds.”

        Now!

        Rhinoceros-neck glanced up and down your row one more time from thirty feet away to make sure no one had left before leaving his post, a sure sign that the group of bodyguard betas wasn’t too far behind. 

        If even one of them saw you, the plan would be ruined. You had to make this quick. 

        Unzipping your windbreaker, you shrugged it off your shoulders and pulled it free of you entirely, feeling for the binder clips in the front pocket as you did so. Then you zipped it back up and shoved a scrunched wrist under each clip. 

        “What are you doing?” The girl in the leather jacket seemed less pissed off than you expected, that was until you tried to attach the binder clip to her jacket-shoulder.

        “Don’t mind me, I just can’t stick around long,” you mumbled, too busy to expand on just how dumb your plan was with attaching the other clip to Kleenex girl’s shoulder cutouts of her blouse. 

        Yes, perhaps it was all based on the slim-to-none chance you had of lucking out so stupidly that an entire group of betas and an Alpha King literally overlooked your existence, but it was your only chance of escaping scot free. All you needed was for it to look like a person was there.

        You’d done your research, and you’d done it well. You knew Bakugou Katsuki was a pissy man, but you also knew he never made eye contact with women while he went down his lines. Part of it was out of respect as due the tradition’s requirements, but part of it was to make the entire process faster. Women were beautiful all over, but finding your true mate depended on all of your senses, not just one. 

        If his peripheral vision was as useless as you hoped, you could make a clear getaway and go on your true mission. As fun as it was to participate in the Alpha King’s police lineup of one-thousand women for four hours, you had other things to do with your life.

        Like finding that deadbeat father of yours. 

        You stepped back and inspected your windbreaker, fluffing it out here and there while the two girls it was attached to tried to crane their necks back far enough to ask you what the hell was happening. 

        You didn’t respond to their questions, instead kicking off the flats you’d allowed your mom to shove on your feet and placing them in the exact place they’d been for the last two hours, easily found due to the matted down grass. Attached to the backpack you’d brought that sat behind you like all other girls had done with their purses and such were a pair of combat boots, the laces strung around the straps of the black bag. 

        All dark colors, all practically invisible in the forest you planned on escaping through. 

        Past your group of one hundred girls was another group of the same number before all the women of the town finally ran out and the edge of the farm’s field met a forest. The owner of the wheat field that had been so viciously attacking your nose for the better part of your morning had been paid handsomely for his participation in this town and century’s search of the Luna Queen, just as his ancestors had been. 

        The forest was thick and ran for miles far and wide, while on the complete other side of the field sat the rest of the town waiting for the Alpha King’s verdict. 

        Queen or no Queen? they all wondered.

        Shit, did I grab that extra protein bar? you wondered.

        The grass was wonderfully cool on your sock-covered feet as you untied your boots, glancing up once or twice and going on your tiptoes to see how fast the Alpha King was moving at this point. Surely he was growing tired of this just as you wished he’d take even more time. 

        A blond head bobbed past fifty or so girls down, proving yourself correct. He was going faster. 

        “Shit,” you hissed, kneeling down to lace up the boots, only to catch a faceful of dirt courtesy of Leather Girl’s gothic boots. 

        “What the hell are you doing down there?” she spat, Kleenex girl nodding with the same curiosity. 

        “I’m gonna go for a stroll.” You returned your gaze to the boots, lacing the last one up faster before a blond or a boot could stop you.

        “What about the king?”

        “What about him?” You rose to your feet and swung the backpack’s straps over your shoulders, tightening them for a mad dash you prayed wouldn’t have to happen. 

        “Why are you just up and leaving now? You could be caught and get in serious trouble,” Kleenex piped up innocently. Her eyes were glimmering with concern, an emotion you knew was much undeserved for someone like yourself about to do something so stupid. 

        “No I won’t,” you shook your head and gestured to the jacket clipped between the two girls. You adjusted the clips so the windbreaker didn’t slump as much, but it was almost an impossible task due to the eight-inch difference between the two of them. “If you guys keep that up, we’ll all survive this. Just play it cool.”

        Both pairs of eyes on you bulged as you traveled toward the woods instead of the town where they thought you were leaving to. The girl in the leather jacket caught your hand in the nick of time, tugging you back hard enough that you were face to face with both girls. The movement behind their backs distracted other girls in line whose attention you really didn’t need at this point so you yanked your hand away with a glare. 

        A flare of guilt lit up your stomach at the worry in both girls’ gazes, but you couldn’t stop the question escaping your lips. “What do you want?”

        “What if they catch you?”

        “They won’t.”

        Leather Jacket gave you a deadpan look. “What if they notice you’re gone?”

        “I’ll be gone by then, hopefully,” you stared down at the hand still reaching for your wrist for emphasis. 

        “Well, what about your family?”

        The question made you tense and your eyes flashed. “They’ll be fine,” you gritted out. You were doing this for them after all, and all of it was explained in the neatly folded letter still in the pocket of your windbreaker. 

        They would understand. They’d have to.

        “Fine then,” Leather Jacket shrugged, forcing a strand of black hair back behind her ear. “Just be safe.”

        Finally, something you wanted--yet didn’t exactly expect, especially from her--to hear. 

        Kleenex nodded in agreement and you smiled. 

        “Thanks.” 

        And then you left, crouching down and slipping behind the backs of a hundred girls you’d gone to school with for twelve years. 

                                ~~~

        Katsuki kept his jaw clenched and his eyes locked on the grass below his shoes as he made his way down the third line that week. Hundredth line that month, with many more to come. 

        Kirishima and Kaminari snickered in the group behind him as he tripped on a sudden hole in the dirt, causing him to cuss and throw a glare back at them. “Zip it, you two.”

        Both men straightened up and saluted him with pursed lips. “Yes sir.”

        And then they broke off into laughter once more.

        Katsuki’s lip curled back and he refrained from growling, knowing that he could scare any of the girls to his left and then he’d get an earful from his parents. 

        Hands shoved into his pockets, he strutted past each and every girl without even catching a whiff of something he even minded at that point. Instead, it was all the same. Flowery scents here and tropically scents there made his mind reel with a full-fledged headache. This town was bigger than the ones he was used to visiting, but a town was more preferable than a city any day--the populations were always too high for him to ever escape a scenting line in a short six hours. 

        Plus, quaint towns like this had his most favored landscape: small shops and cottages behind him with a wide forest surrounding, too thick to even see the sunrise and yet so clear that you could count the stars. 

        Not that he’d ever tell anyone he liked that. 

        Although, deep down he thought that if he ever did find his mate, a town like this was where he’d like to settle down after running the pack for long enough. Letting his wolf free in miles and miles of forest was a dream, and reminded him of his pack’s headquarters thousands of miles away from here. 

        At least I can see the end of the line now, he thought, reaching up a single hand to massage the back of his neck. 

        He estimated he’d be done in this town in another ten minutes. Then maybe he could convince his father’s Beta to let him roam through the forest for even just an hour before moving on. 

        Just a little faster now. 

        Of all the parts of scenting lines, his favorite part was definitely finishing them. 

        So close… so close. 

        Now, he could see the last girl--and the anxious smile on her face. Dear God, that poor thing thought she was the one. She definitely wasn’t the first, and he had to thank that no girl had jumped like the ones in the previous towns had. 

        All towns and cities had their weirdos, but Katsuki was especially pleased to find out that this town was astoundingly normal. 

        Well, maybe except for that one girl that was very obviously trying to make a break for it to the forest. 

        Well that’s a new one. Maybe he-

        Mate.

        The sweet scent of sugared pine and apple trees wafted into his nose, mixing with a slight pinch of spiced cinnamon. His eyes almost rolled back into his head and yet he couldn’t take them off the form sprinting behind the other girls. 

        Gasps filled his ears as Katsuki’s body stood at attention. But if that girl was his mate then how could he smell her…?

        One look to his left and he saw a single maroon windbreaker, attached via what looked like binder clips to the clothing of the two women on either side of an empty space. Even a pair of shoes sat on the floor where his mate had stood, and wind forced the jacket to flutter in midair. 

        She ran away.

        Something in Katsuki’s chest sank as he growled in frustration, ripping the windbreaker away from between the two girls and ignoring how they flinched before he pressed it to his nose, inhaling as much of the scent as he could.

        Intoxicating.

        He could feel his mind sharpen as he stepped away from the group of girls, turning his head once more to search for his mate. 

        A black form disappeared behind a collection of trees hundreds of feet away but he heard the crack of her stepping on a twig as clear as day. 

        “Kirishima,” he barked and the redhead appeared at his side. “Take these two into custody. They might know something.”

        “Bakugou, did you find her?”

        He kept his gaze locked on the trees.

        “Yes, but take the other men with you. I want to find her alone.”

        “But what if-”

        “No,” he spat, blazing eyes almost setting Kirishima aflame, “I’m doing it alone. If even one of you gets near her or gets in my way, he’s not making it out of the forest alive.”

        Kirishima nodded in understanding and whistled to the others, grabbing both girls as they whimpered in fear while waiting for better restraints. 

        Katsuki still kept his eyes locked on the forest edge, just where his mate had disappeared. It was only then that he noticed his hands were wringing the jacket of life, twisting it until it appeared to be tight as a spring waiting to uncoil. 

        Pressing his lips firm against one another, he unraveled the jacket, searching for something, anything that might give him a clue as to who you were and why you did what you did. 

        At last, he found a letter in the front right pocket, addressed to your own mother. 

Dear Mom,

I’m going after him. I can’t let what he did to you slide, even if you say it was for the best.

With love,

YN

        YN. At least now he had a name. 

        And it was perfect. 

        YN, your mate was going to find you whether you wanted him to or not. 

        And he wasn’t going to let you go.

                                ~~~

        There was no way you had escaped as smoothly as you thought you did. Even though you felt like every breath you took sounded like a trumpet announcing your location, you never stopped running, staying crouched beneath the groups of women who didn’t even bother to turn back and watch the show. 

        It wasn’t too graceful either. Your thighs were on fire due to, you know, you having never done this before. After a solid two minutes, you felt your calves spasm and you almost gave up there, but the forest’s edge was so close… so close. 

        When the floor finally transitioned from grass to grass mixed with soil and animal feces, you almost jumped for joy, sprinting so hard that your legs almost gave out when you passed a hefty group of trees that you felt wide enough to hide you. 

        Your ears perked at a series of gasps that rang in the clearing behind you and it was then that you knew your escape was far from over. 

        Maybe there actually was a law against escaping the Searching for Luna Queens ceremony--you’d googled it thoroughly just to make sure you weren’t officially a criminal on the run until after you located your father. But hey, maybe Google had lied to you.

        Then you were screwed. 

        Your mother and stepfather, you could deal with.

        The entirety of the Alpha King’s pack… hmm, not so much. 

        So you kept running, wincing every once in a while that you stepped over a cracked twig. Sweat stuck your hair to your skin and slickened your legs entirely, the midday heat combined with a run through the humid forest finally catching up to you. 

        A small rest wouldn’t hurt. Maybe twenty minutes had passed, thirty if you were really lucky. You settled for a small stump in somewhat of a clearing. Here, at least, the branches of the trees were only swinging so low that they just brushed the top of your head, as opposed to when they thwapped you in the face while you ran.

        Zipping open your backpack, you grabbed the first water bottle you saw, not even bothering to search for the cap after you tore it off and tossed it away before gulping down three-quarters of the bottle. 

        Your heart finally seemed to slow as you took in gasps of air, batting away and choking on the occasional gnat. Your hair felt greasy and sweaty while the rest of your body was just entirely moist--you’d never been so disgusting before. 

        But you’d also never run away from a group of thirteen grown men before so you chalked it up to it being amateur hour. 

        From your seat on the stump, you honed in on your surroundings, trying to figure out which direction to go from there. 

        Birds chirped to your left (possibly South), but you heard the small babblings of a creek to your right (also possibly South). There was nothing coming from in front of you but flies buzzing and the occasional deer scraping its antlers against a tree, and meanwhile behind you there was a-

        SHIT!

        You jumped out of your seat on the stump but it was already too late. Just as you lunged ten feet out a weight tackled you from behind and forced you onto the ground, their heavier weight and superior strength keeping you immobile. 

        Shoulda known it was illegal.

        But only then after your heart stopped trying to rip itself away from your body did you feel it. Sparks. Little zaps of pure pleasure tracing up and down your spine and forcing an involuntary shiver out of you. 

        And the smell, oh God the smell. Like your favorite fruits sprinkled with just a touch of vanilla that had you biting back a moan. 

        Mate.

        Parts of you were happy and others were sad. Happy you found your mate, but sad he had almost just tackled you and forced your face into a pile of bear dung. 

        This was not a great first meeting. 

        “Are you gonna get off me anytime soon?” you wheezed out, spitting out spare bits of dirt that had flown into your mouth mid-tackle.

        Thank God you packed a toothbrush. 

        “Only if you promise not to run.” Jesus fuck this man needed to chill with his voice. It washed over you and warmed up the pit of your stomach like no other, every husk and lilt of his words making you almost quiver in delight. 

        “Yep,” you coughed out, voice surprisingly steady for someone being suffocated mentally and physically, “pretty sure I’ve learned my lesson. You’re good.”

        After a slow, somewhat trembling exhale, the man finally got off you and rose to his feet, instead choosing to drop into a squat beside your head with both arms relaxing on his knees. 

        Very strong, muscular looking arms on very strong, muscular looking knees. And things. And chest. And everything. 

        Dear God, maybe you actually hit the jackpot for once. 

        A large hand reached towards your face, not particularly gentle as he brushed the hair from your face, though you could tell he was trying by his hesitancy. His hand paused right as it reached your hair and after a deep breath, he pushed it back up behind your ear and you could see the rest of him at last. 

        Oh holy shit. 

        “Ba-akugou Katsuki.” 

        “YN.”

        The Alpha King was your mate.

Reborn (Bokuto/Akaashi x Reader) ~Chapter 4~

(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: Holy shit, y’all, I am so sorry for the inactivity, but here’s one mega-long ass chapter to make up for it. Life has been hectic lately, so I hope you’ll forgive my slacking. I seriously hope you guys enjoy this one, though!

Tag List: @burntcilantro​  @alloverbutterflies​  @translucentthoughts​  @zaejia​  @momothepeachgirl  @black-veil-chemicalz​  @miigoth​  @blxkstar​  @keigosbitch​  @actual-smol​  @rikorene​  @idiot-juice-enthusiast​  

Word count: 8233

        “YN GUESS WHAT!”

        Bokuto was… nice. Most days, he was a little too energetic for your taste, but you were slowly growing used to his wild actions. Everything he did, he did with a smile, and you liked that about him. Except he had a habit of barging in on you at the most unsavory times and proceeding to act willfully ignorant to his mistake. Exhibit A: you were in the shower.

        “GET THE HELL OUT BOKUTO!”

        “But YN-”

        “GET OUT!”

                                ~~~

        Lately, your feelings for the boys have grown. Although you still had your doubts, you still accepted any offer of affection they had. Akaashi was more of the discrete type, with his nightly cuddles and his small smiles. He even introduced you to the rose garden outside your balcony, and helped you in watering them any chance he could. 

        Bokuto, on the other hand, was much more erratic. Instead of peaceful midnight snuggles, the vampire chose to mount you in your sleep and shout in your ear until you woke up. He was like a petulant child who needed constant attention, but after months of being trapped in the mansion with only him and his wizard companion, you gave into every whine and beg he shrieked. If he wanted to watch the sun rise, you dragged your butt out of bed and sat on the roof of the house with him. If he wanted to bake a five-layer cake at the asscrack of dawn, you stood alongside him in the kitchen and only helped when he would accidentally splatter ingredients on the walls. Every time Bokuto did anything around the house and wanted you there, you would be, but only because he was whiny. Oh, and also you’ve been bored out of your mind.

        Today seemed to be your lucky day, though. 

        “F-U-N! FUNLAND!” the vampire sang ear-splittingly, pumping his hands in and out against his chest with every beat. 

        “F-U-N LAND! FUNLAND!” you chanted with him, mocking his moves and wiggling your hips excitedly. Akaashi had the expression no different than that of a worn-out parent as he stood between the two of you, occasionally getting hip-checked and booty-bumped.

        Where were you, you ask? Oh, only the happiest place on Earth!... Or is that copyrighted? Whatever, who cares?!

        After however many months of being trapped in that joy-sucking mansion, Bokuto and Akaashi finally let you outside, and it was to go to the local amusement park. There had been many ads on TV displaying just how magical the park was, but you never got to see it with your very own eyes until right now. Also, their theme song was catchy. 

        “FUN… LAND!” you and Bokuto finished on a high note, smacking your hands together in a high ten with smiles on par with the sun. People in the line behind you groaned at your fiftieth cover of the tune, bitterly groaning and grumbling in the day’s humidity. 

        While you and your singalong companion bounced on the tips of your toes at the front of the hoard, Akaashi handed the workers your tickets before leading the way into…

        “FUNLAND!” You two screeched once more, snapping your mouths shut after Akaashi served you the dirtiest look. 

        People were right to complain. The heat from the sun was palpable enough to dampen your skin in seconds. Sunburns were expected, and a little looked forward to, but the wizard, ever the careful parent, doused both you and the vampire in gallons of sunscreen. 

        “Shouldn’t you die under the sun?” you had asked Bokuto this morning.

        “No, Akaashi cast a spell on me years ago. No setting on fire for this vampire!” he had replied, snatching his friend up in a hug.

        All around the park, people ambled about like ants, chattering with each other and touring the park. Screams were audible from the many roller coasters and other fun rides around you, though it was difficult to tell if it was from fear or joy. A small breeze blew past every few seconds, just barely ruffling the bottom of your flowing, blue sundress and cooling your bare legs. You sniffed the air greedily, enjoying the scent of sugary, fried delicacies and coconut sunblock. 

        Most others, much like your two companions, wore shorts and t-shirts, smiling under sunglasses and making their way to the many attractions offered. Akaashi glanced around at them before making his way to a thick post holding maps and other advertisements for the park. You and Bokuto trailed behind him, barely containing your excitement as your eyes greedily ate up the scene before you both.

        “All right, you two,” Akaashi spoke up, scrutinizing the map from behind his shaded lenses, “where do you wanna go first?”

        “Bumper cars!” you piped up first, laughing victoriously at Bokuto’s disappointed huff. 

        “Are you sure?” the wizard asked.

        “No!” Bokuto whined. “We should do-”

        “Bumper cars it is!” You grab both their hands swiftly and drag them through the crowds, pushing past the occasional crying baby and scuffing your sandals against the paved ground. 

        When you spotted your game of choice, you cheered in delight. 

        “Whoo!” You made your way up to the short line, hauling them both in behind you. Fake horns honked and tiny tires squealed against the floor as you shifted on your feet. Seconds later, the round in front of you finished and you bounced on your feet, quickly pulling both men forward behind you.

        “Sorry, looks like one of you will have to wait till next round.” The teenaged operator forced on a sympathetic smile and fiddled with his cotton, park-themed t-shirt while you groaned in despair. 

        “Oh c’mon,” you turned around to face the boys with a pout and Bokuto shared your look. Akaashi, on the other hand, shrugged and stepped under the tied rope representing the line area. 

        “You two go ahead, I’ll watch from over here,” he gestured to the metal gates surrounding the court and folded his arms against it, leaning leisurely while nodding at the two of you to go ahead. With a swift turn to your vampiric friend, you narrowed your eyes and slowly stepped backwards onto the battlefield. 

        “It’s on,” you smirked, rolling your shoulders and cracking your knuckles.

        “Oh, it is so on!” Bokuto yelped, and with that you both sprinted to your cars, him taking a yellow one and you taking a green. 

        “Thank you for deciding to play Funland’s Wonderful Bumper Cars today,” the operator droned monotonously. “Please keep your hands and feet inside your cars at all times. Please don’t exceed the marked speed on the vehicles. Please don’t-” 

        “Game on, you owl-haired freak!”

        “You’re goin’ down, darling!”

        And with that, the game began. You screamed out a “charge” and pressed your gas all the way down to the floor, making a beeline for Bokuto. He does the same, scrunching up his face and yelling aloud as well while speeding up towards you. 

        Crash!

        You and Bokuto collide and rebound off each other, both whipping back and forth in your seats from the force. The contact causes you to ram into the other cars, and the children around you scream in terror at your viciousness behind the wheel. 

        You circle your enemy rapidly, making yourself dizzy as you spin your wheel around the court. 

        “Come at me, wuss!” you taunt, sticking out your tongue at the vampire. He takes the bait and floors it, taking an angle to intercept you at the perfect point in your circle. You react just in time pressing on the brakes fast enough to stop just before he hits you and cackling mischievously as Bokuto slams harshly into the wall, flying forward and ramming his gut into his wheel. 

        “This isn’t over, YN!” he groans, holding his stomach while you slowly push your car into him, cursed with the hindrance of not being able to reverse. 

        “Yeah, yeah.” You ruffle your hand in his hair as your car squeals against his, slowly leaving friction marks against the side of his own vehicle. You whip your wheel around in an instant, targeting other children while Bokuto is trapped against the wall. While you savagely bump against the others in the court, you occasionally catch a glimpse of Akaashi, who watches you with bright, humorous eyes behind the fence. 

        You give him a small wave before releasing another ferocious war cry, directing your car towards Bokuto and bashing into him once again just after he freed himself.

        “Why?!” he screeches, bouncing off the wall and jolting in his chair. 

        “You can never beat me!” you grin, revving up your imaginary engine and spinning to face him again. You prepare to give one final blow, pushing past terrorized children who hurriedly drive out of your way before taking aim. 

        “It was nice knowing you, Bokuto!”

        “YN, don’t do this!” he pleads. Akaashi stands just behind him and quirks his lips at the sight. 

        “I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL!” You press your gas all the way down to the floor and tense your body for the crash, but the cheap plastic only bumbles along the court, leaving you hunched over your steering wheel and pursing your lips in confusion. You slowly bump into Bokuto with a thump before casually rolling to a stop just a few inches away.

        “You two!” The operator points an accusing finger at you and your opponent. “Get out right now! You’re scaring the other riders!” 

        The “other riders” are a fearsome age of six through nine, and every one of them gives you a pouty glare as you exit your bumper cars. 

        “Sorry,” you and Bokuto mumble to the worker, stepping out of the gate that he slams to a close behind you. 

        While you walk side-by-side away from the warzone, Akaashi walks over to greet you with a hand over his mouth, clearly disguising a smug grin. 

        “Nice job, you two. You managed to get kicked out of a ride in the first twenty minutes.” 

        “Whatever, let’s just go play mini golf now.” Bokuto trudges over to the highlighted sign, you follow closely behind and Akaashi becomes the smug caboose to your pain train.

        “I’m definitely gonna kick your ass this time,” you mutter under your breath, just loud enough for the vampire to hear. 

        “Oh yeah?” You can hear the smile return to his voice. “It’s on, darling.” In a mad dash, you both leave Akaashi in the dust once again while racing towards the air conditioned building. 

                                ~~~

        After ten holes and ten simultaneous losses, Bokuto barely has enough dignity to pout. While his hair lights the way for you all in the black-lighted room, you victory dance your way to the final course. 

        Akaashi goes first, and like all the rounds before, he gets a hole in one. He’s been claiming it’s skill, but you know for sure he’s been using some good-old wizardy to kick both your asses. Maybe he was still a little salty about not being able to play bumper cars. 

        Bokuto goes next, and whimpers when his neon pink ball bounces off the windmill, getting knocked off into the flowing moat never to be seen again. 

        You finish last, winding up barely enough to tap the ball through, taking a deep breath and waiting for the perfect moment. Suddenly, a presence creeps up behind you.

        “My love, you’re aiming way too hard,” Akaashi whispers, pressing his solid chest to your back. His arms wind around your rigid form and his hands encompass yours on the measly golf club, carefully guiding you back and then forward again, tapping the ball just perfectly enough that you, much like him, get a hole in one.

        “It’s just mini golf,” Bokuto grumbles from the other side of the course. 

        “Keep telling yourself that.” Akaashi pulls away and you finally suck in some much-needed oxygen, standing up straight and gripping the club tightly. 

        “AKAASHI!” They both argue back and forth while leaving you behind with a muddled mind. Your skin skill tingles from his touch, but you swiftly catch up to them before your thoughts run rampant. 

        The humidity is the first difference you notice when you exit the small building. The sharp contrast between the previous dark room and the burning sun pains your irises, and Akaashi lowers his sunglasses while pulling out his map. 

        “Okay, you two. What’s next?” he asks, raising his voice over the loud babbling of those around your tiny group. 

        “Roller coaster!” Bokuto lifts his hand up over his eyes and gawks at the elaborate ride before him. It’s called Big Bertha, and you don’t even want to think about getting on it. It lives up to its name, with about eight loopty-loops and even more tracks that spin you upside down, then rightside up in stomach churning-intervals. The typical screams and squeals you hear make you gulp and flare your nostrils. Even its height is making you dizzy. 

        “Sounds good, let’s do it.” Before you even have a chance to veto their idea, they’re already dragging you to the line, one of their hands on each of your wrists. Your voice is caught in your drying throat while you stare down the four-seated death sentence.

        In what felt like seconds but was actually twenty minutes, you’re shoved down into the front row seat, Bokuto sitting on your right while Akaashi settles in on your left. One last seat is left open, but with a fierce growl from the vampire, the final rider on your twelve-row horror show decides to wait for the next round. 

        Your whole body is shaking while you repeatedly swallow down your fear, clenching and unclenching your fists repeatedly while observing the track before you. It’s a forty-foot climb, leading to a soul-departing drop that you know, you just know you won’t survive. Akaashi pulls down the foamy bar over your shoulders as per request of the ride operator, giving you a curious look at your awkward appearance. 

        “Are you okay?” He places his hand on yours in attempted comfort, but you’re too far gone to feel it. 

        “Mhm,” you squeak back, keeping your eyes locked on the bar in front of you while gripping your restraint with white-knuckles. Akaashi gives you one more uncertain look before nodding and facing forward, placing a reassuring hand on your bare thigh. As if reading the room, Bokuto does the same and squeezes the flesh with excitement. 

        “YN, this is gonna be so fun! Why do you look constipated?” His normal, overjoyed grin almost blinds you into submission, and you whimper when the whole car jolts forward with a squeal before chugging up the track. 

        Your breath escapes you as gravity pulls you against your seat, forcing you to look up at the clear blue skies of the wonderful day of your end. Oh God, I’m gonna die here!

        Slowly, ever so slowly, you inch up the track, climbing higher and higher into the air as your brain begins to ache with pure fear. Your whole body is trembling uncontrollably, and Akaashi gives you another curious glance just as you reach the top. 

        “All right, YN, tell us what’s wrong. Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?” How is he so calm right now?! 

        You try to focus on your breathing, in and out, in and out, but nothing distracts you from the drop. Farther and farther, the tracks lean you to face straight down, and the people from here all look like squirming ants. The trees look like green toothpicks, and you? Well, you’re just plain green. 

        “Hey guys?” you whisper hesitantly, heart rate speeding up at the imminent drop.

        “Yeah?”

        Nothing.

        Nothing.

        And then…

        “I have a fear of heights.”

        You drop. 

        Every mistake you’ve ever made haunts you as you scream for dear life, slapping your hands down onto the ones on your thighs and digging your fingernails into their arms. Air whips past you as you’re pulled back and forth, up and down. The world flies past you at unstoppable speeds and you can’t even think straight. 

        Your heart is beating so fast as the ride slows, only to climb another hill before dropping you suddenly once again. You clench your eyes closed in fear this time and grab Bokuto and Akaashi’s hands in your own, feeling their bones and tendons and just how much you’re crushing them at the moment. The only audible sounds around you aside from the wind whipping past your face and pulling your hair is both men’s laughs. You carefully open your eyelids and glance to your sides.

        Bokuto. He’s smiling and laughing and cheering and throwing his arm in the air and it’s beautiful.

        Akaashi. He’s doing the exact same, and never before have you seen him so happy and carefree than in this moment. 

        They were gorgeous, and joyful, and so euphoric in this moment that you never wanted it to end. 

        These men… are they really my soulmates?

        You so wanted them to be, if they could look this happy all the time. If you could make them look like that all the time. And you so wanted to do that.

        Suddenly, that roller coaster didn’t seem all that bad, and as it came to one final drop, you closed your eyes and giggled with glee, embracing the fall and the heart tremors it gave you. 

        Then it slowly rolled to a stop, and the only noises around you were the excited chitters of the riders behind you. Smile still plastered on your face, you breathlessly open your gaze and listen to the pressurized air releasing as your restraints push up and over your head. 

        Your chest is thumping and your ears are pounding as you pat your cheeks to get the feeling back in them. Then you glance at your partners. 

        Both supernatural men seem stumped at the sight. Their mouths are wide open and gawked at you. You freeze up under their gaze, but push their foam bars up and over their heads nonetheless. 

        “Uhh, guys? I think we have to get off now.” You stand and gesture for them to do the same. They do, and trail behind you with delirious gazes as you lead them out and away from the ride. Now that you realize it, women have been gawking at the men following behind you all day. You pass girls your age, younger, and older, and every single one stops and stares, giving yearning looks to your soulmates. 

        You glare back as you lead them both to the lunch area, obeying the growls in your stomach while you seat them at a bench-table across from you. 

        What a bunch of-

        “My love,” Akaashi licks his lips and earnestly shakes his head at you. “You are beautiful.” 

        Your eyes widen at the words and you go rigid in your cedar placement. Where the hell did that come from? 

        Bokuto is still gaping like a fish, but abruptly snatches your hand on the wooden presses his forehead against the back of it while groaning. “God, darling, how are you so perfect?” 

        “Umm, guys?” You shift in your seat, anxious under their serious gazes.

        Akaashi’s eyes darken at the familiar words and a muscle in his jaw twitches. “Speaking of, why didn’t you tell us you were afraid? Even though-” he pauses and wordlessy shrugs towards the roller coaster, “-that just happened,” he shakes his head, “we still wouldn’t have gone if we knew.” 

        You raise a brow. “Mind telling me what just happened?”

        “You looked like an angel, darling,” Bokuto presses a kiss to your fingers before letting you go. “So fucking perfect. And all ours.” He smiles at you, a loving, adoring smile that gives you whiplash when compared to his possessive words. “Now, how ‘bout some lunch? I really want one of those big Pixie Stix!” Oh wow, that’s a mind fuck.

        “You’re gonna get sick if you eat that,” Akaashi scolds, rising up out of his chair and walking towards the food stands. Bokuto does the same and pouts at his companion. 

        “Oh, come on Akaashi! I promise I’ll be fine. Just let me get one, please?” 

        What kind of mind games are these two playing?!

        While they both make their ways to the concession stands, women of all ages watch the men with lovey-dovey eyes. They giggle and point, and some closer to your range push each other forward with encouraging whispers to shoot their shot.

        “Darling, are you coming?” Bokuto’s call draws you out of your jealous thoughts, and you nod along dazedly. In a split second, you walk over to join them, puffing up your chest and keeping your gaze forward to ignore every nasty glare the thirsty females serve you. That’s right, bitches, they’re mine-

        “My love,” Akaashi interrupts with a pointed look, “could you please tell Bokuto that if he only eats the tube of sugar, he’s going to make himself sick?” He jabs a thumb at the vampire accusingly before gesturing to the menu. “Just pick something else.”

        “How about an elephant ear-”

        “No.”

        You breathe out a laugh and drop your hands on your hips. “Akaashi’s right, you know,” you nod to the wizard, but Bokuto only nods while staring at something over your head. 

        “Mhm sure.”

        “Come on, you are going to-” You get cut off abruptly by him simply humming and walking away while licking his lips. The act almost hurts you, like you had just been completely ignored by your significant other. Like.

        “Don’t take it to heart, my love,” Akaashi grasps your hand and squeezes reassuringly, and you know he had seen the pain on your face. “He’s not one to so easily dismiss you. I know he’s bringing you something too. It’s the only explanation.”

        You only nod and purse your lips, taking a small comfort in the fact that his fingers rest perfectly against your own. He smiles softly at the feeling of your thumb brushing over his knuckles, and presses a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling you to the open counter. 

        “What would you like, my love?” he whispers into your ear, chuckling quietly when your body goes rigid against his own. 

        “U-umm, you order first,” you shrug nonchalantly to brush over the quietness of your voice. “I don’t know yet.” Eyes glinting, he nods and turns to the woman behind the counter. 

        “I will have a…” his order fades away as you narrow your eyes at the girl’s actions. There’s something… arrogant about her. Her eyelashes flutter like she’s trying to flick dust out of her eyes, and her lips pucker like she’s about to hop over the counter and jump your- erm, Akaashi. 

        “Mhm,” she hums seductively, biting her lips, “anything else for you, babe?” 

        Your nostrils flare at her attempts to woo him. You know your kidnapper would never go for this woman, but a part of you still wants to wring her neck like a wet towel. 

        “Yeah, just a bottle of water.” 

        “I’ll go get a cold one for you,” she winks, “I know it’s pretty hot out here.” Running a sensual hand through her hair, she sighs dramatically before making her way deeper into the food stand, bending low to give your wizard a nice show at the only thing she has to offer while she grabs his water bottle. You grit your teeth at the sight and muster the most enraged glare anyone’s ever seen.

        “Are you all right, my love?” The pet name reassures you, but the arrogant tone of Akaashi’s voice drives you up the walls. 

        “Of course,” you hiss, eyes still locked on the… nice woman behind the counter. “Why do you ask?”

        “Because if you grip my hand any harder, I fear I might just lose all feeling in it for a while,” he simpers, holding your white-knuckled hand up to your tunnel vision. 

        “Oh, sorry” you seethe, attempting to yank your hand away only to have Akaashi hold it in place. He still intertwines his long fingers with your limp ones, but you don’t have enough pride to reciprocate. 

        “My love,” he coos teasingly, “are you jealous?”

        “Fuck no!” You scrunch up your nose and bang your free hand on the counter just as the woman returns with Akaashi’s order. 

        “Do you want the same thing as me?” he asks, grabbing his hotdog and water in his free grip. The thought for some reason makes your stomach churn, and in your bitterness, you decide to play it petty. 

        Turning towards the woman, you ignore Akaashi’s question and spit, “I want an elephant ear.”

        “YN-”

        “And a chocolate shake. And that’ll be all, babe,” you sneer at her. The woman raises her perfectly plucked brows, unimpressed, but you don’t have the time to care what she thinks.

        Akaashi sighs from beside you, and a minute later you return to your table with all the sugary goodness you could think of in the heat of the moment. Bokuto is already seated, and when he smiles at your lunch, the entire inside of his mouth is tainted blue. 

        “Woah, YN, that looks great!” The hungry vampire sidles up beside you, taking up the only room for another person on your side of the table as you plop down with a humph.

        “You want some?” you offer with a smirk, tearing off a piece and chomping on it with an emphasized moan. “It’s delicious.” 

        “Definitely,” Bokuto nods and takes a bite of the chunk in your hand, his lips brushing your fingers before he pulls away. “Wow, that’s good! Akaashi, you sure you don’t want some?”

        The wizard only shakes his head and takes a bitter bite out of his hotdog. Bokuto furrows his brows at the tense atmosphere of the table, then snaps his fingers and gasps excitedly. 

        “Darling, I almost forgot,” he snags something out from under the table and hands it to you, “I got you something!”

        It’s a cherry-flavored Pixie Stix tube. Sixteen inches of pure sugar and diabetes fuel, but it was your favorite flavor, so who were you to deny?

        “Aww, thanks Bokuto!” You peck his cheek in thanks and try not to blush at the abnormal action. You were still growing used to showing them affection as well. 

        “You’re welcome! I had blue raspberry, so now we can make purple!”

        Akaashi choked on his hotdog.

                                ~~~

        The day was only half-over, and after lunch, Bokuto had an ingenious idea of going to the Tilt-a-Whirl teacups. Yep. Genius. 

        Your stomach tremmered and gurgled with every movement, and you could almost feel all the sugar you had consumed fighting back. Still, it gave you quite a rush, and you had a bounce in your step as you made your way to the next ride. If only you knew it was going to be the worst decision yet. 

        “You’re gonna throw up,” Akaashi murmured from your side, waiting patiently alongside a contrasting Bokuto who vibrated with excitement. 

        “No I’m not.” You discretely fold your hands over your stomach, trying to soothe the growing ache. 

        “I told you not to eat so much sugar.”

        “I’m not gonna throw up!”

        “Our turn!” Bokuto cheered, pushing past the person counter and scrambling into the first teacup. You and the smug wizard both clamber in after him, settling into the plastic benches hidden inside the ride. 

        The signature music begins playing and Bokuto wastes no time, instantly dropping his hands down onto the wheel in the center and twirling it as fast as he can. 

        “WHOOO!” 

        The trees and other attractions of the park begin to blur, and at first you enjoy it. Wind whips past your face as your hair flutters behind you. The force of every twist and turn tugs you back and forth in the most curiously exciting way, and you begin to uncontrollably giggle at the feeling of pure joy beaming in your chest. Even Akaashi finds it in himself to smile as the vampire beside him whips the wheel faster, cranking it to the left and right with his enhanced strength. 

        While the black and white haired man hoots and hollers with delight, you grip the wooden bench below you tightly, trying not to go flying straight out of the teacup. The muscles in your cheeks ache from the constant grin, and everything feels just so right.

        “YEAH, WOO-HOO!”

        Then it goes horribly wrong. 

        Your stomach begins to churn and burn at the constant twisting, and a wave of nausea hits you, desperately trying to climb up your throat. Ever so elated, neither man notices how your face abruptly falls, and you puff up your cheeks in effort to hold back a gag.

        Oh no. There’s the elephant ear.

        The bottom of your throat stings at the feeling of your stomach acid relocating, and you almost cry tears of joy when the ride stops lurching violently with a loud beep. Your head spins while your vision grows unfocused. The only thing you comprehend is the fact that the door to your teacup has just opened, and you can finally make your escape. In a reckless sprint, you scurry out of the enlarged drinkware and launch yourself off the ride’s platform.

        “YN?!” Both men call after you, but you don’t have time to spare. Frantically searching the area, your eyes dart back and forth for the nearest trash can to empty your stomach contents. 

        At last, you spot and dart towards it with one wizard hot on your tail. He pulls your hair away from your face just in the nick of time as you toss cookies into Funland’s Funtastic Waste Disposal. 

        “Oh, YN,” Akaashi hums, rubbing your back comfortingly, “I told you this would happen.”

        “Shut u-” you break off to cack into the bin once more, closing your eyes and groaning bitterly at the ringing in your ears. The black-haired man massages his palm up and down your spine while a depressed vampire paces behind you.

        “YN, I am so sorry! I am so, so, so sorry!” he cries out in despair, hands hanging limply by his side as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

        “No, Bokuto, I swear it’s not your fault-” you can’t hold back another gag, or finish a sentence to save your life. One last wave of nausea climbs up your throat and you lose the final bits of your lunch for the day. The anxious man whimpers at the sound as Akaashi grimaces, taking one for the team and handing you the last of his water while you wheeze against the can. 

        With a heavy sigh, you gargle some of it in the back of your sore throat before spitting it out, wiping your mouth with a napkin also provided by the wizard. After taking a few minutes to catch your breath, you peel away and let out a deep sigh, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands.

        “Hey guys?”

        “Yeah?” they chime.

        “Let’s skip out on rides for the rest of the day, okay?”

        “Of course.”

                                ~~~

        Two teddy bears, three pink flamingos, eight multi-colored dogs, five Pikachus and one big llama. Those along with about fifteen other stuffed animals you couldn’t identify were all stock-piled into your hands as a gesture of repentance. 

        After you greeted your guts in the nearest trash can, Bokuto had compiled enough guilt to frighten the Titanic. Akaashi had nothing better to do than play the amusement park games as well, and this only increased his companion’s competitiveness. 

        Bokuto excelled at the games of strength and skill. Basketball shooting, darts and balloons, bottle rings, he even broke the mallet at the “Ring the Bell” game. And the bell. But you did get a big, fluffy unicorn out of it, so no harm, no foul. 

        Akaashi, unsurprisingly, had much more success in games of chance. Every time, he knocked down all the bottles, chose the rubber duck with the highest number, hit every moving target with his water gun, and won you a goldfish with a ping pong ball. You didn’t exactly have the capability of handling a fish at home though, so you had to give little “Hinata” back. Shame.

        “My love, I just won you a blue penguin.”

        “Awe, thanks Akaashi!” You awkwardly squatted to allow him to add it to the top of your collection, and slowly raised back up, keeping a close eye on the precariously-balanced bird.

        “You totally stole that win from me!” Bokuto accused, tossing a smaller penguin on top of your pile. 

        “It’s called being skilled, Bokuto. No cheating necessary from me.”

        Bullshit.

        “Hey guys?” you panted, carefully following after them while watching your toys like a hawk. They didn’t pay you any mind, instead choosing to continue their petty argument.

        “Guys?” Nothing.

        “Hey! Guys!” Nada.

        “HEY DIPSTICKS!” Everyone within a thirty-foot radius averted their gazes to you at your shout, and you drop your rainbow-themed assortment of creatures on the ground with a huff, ignoring their eyes. You were used to being watched constantly anyway.

        “Yes, darling?” Bokuto smiled proudly, observing his and Akaashi’s impressive gathering like a devoted hunter. You wipe the sweat off your brow and gesture to the toys. 

        “I really don’t need all these. What if some children want them?”

        “Our children can have them.”

        “What?”

        “What?” they both pipe up. Not even a second later, they gather up the stuffed animals in their hands and stack them back up in your arms, completely ignoring the conversation that had just happened. A conversation you sincerely wanted to expand upon. 

        “They’re for you, YN,” Akaashi declares, setting a flamingo on your shoulder. 

        “We only want you to have them, no one else,” Bokuto adds, innocently placing a monkey under your chin. “We want people to know that we won them for you.” 

        Their expressions seemed pure and innocuous, but the prideful twinkles in their eyes revealed the opposite. Like wolves marking their territory, they loaded you with gifts and surrounded you protectively, hiding your form while simultaneously showing that you were taken. 

        Was that true? Were you actually stuck with these two men for life? On the surface, the thought made you cringe. You never liked the idea of other people seeing you as property to be owned. Deep down, however, you knew you were more than that to these guys. Your heart fluttered every second you were around them, and your stomach filled with butterflies every time their skin brushed your own. No, you didn’t want to be claimed like a stray cat. 

        But maybe…

        “Hehe, Akaashi look,” Bokuto chuckled and pointed out a neon sign overhanging a large, white building, “there’s a magician at the park.”

        “Ugh, how humans always think they can perform magic disgusts me.” The wizard sneers at the sight and attempts to walk past without another glance, but you lag behind, enraptured at the thought. 

        Real magic and fake magic. Huh. Wonder how he would actually react?

        After ten minutes of begging from you, and thirteen minutes of begging from you and Bokuto, Akaashi snapped like a twig and folded. 

        “Fine!” he hissed under his breath, not so subtly stomping towards the miniature arena. “We’ll go, but we’re not staying the entire time!”

        “Hell yeah!” you and Bokuto cheered. The vampire went in for a fist bump, which you awkwardly pressed your forehead against because, you know, your hands were kind of full. 

        While the sky had grown darker and darker as your two companions were stuffed-animal hunting, it wasn’t as dark as the inside of the magician’s building. With a warning from Bokuto, all three of you settled into the back row of the show, closest to the exit and farthest from the younger viewers whose ears could be tainted with Akaashi’s irritation.

        It was a smart choice, because as soon as the stage lit up and the magician appeared in a cloud of smoke, the wizard immediately had something to say. 

        “They just had a secret hatch on the stage, you know,” he grumbled under his breath. 

        “There’s two people in that box.”

        “He hid the card up his sleeve.”

        “There’s actors in the audience.” 

        Five minutes in, and it was like you were listening to the podcast remake of Breaking the Magician’s Code. 

        “Oh, come on, Akaashi!” you groaned quietly, lowering your voice when the people in front of you delivered viscous glares. “How is that woman floating other than by pure magic?!”

        The wizard smirks. “There’s a machine behind the magician.”

        “But the hula hoop-”

        “Works around the machine.”

        You pause for a second, scrutinizing the fakers on stage and gnawing on your lip, debating the odds.

        “Goddamnit, Akaashi.” With a final scoff, you stand up from your seat and collect all your stuffed animals in your arms, submitting as Akaashi snickers. He rises as well and proceeds to help you gather your things while Bokuto stays seated with golden eyes still locked on the stage.

        “Where are you two going?” he whisper-yells, not glancing away once while gasping in amazement at the show. The vampire claps erratically when the “floating girl” lowers to the floor and bows to the audience. 

        “C’mon, dude, it’s all a sham.” You huff and hug your stuffies closer, glaring at the wizard who ruined your fun. “Let’s get out of here.”

        “How can that be a sham, YN?!” He points at the stage with all seriousness and childlike wonder. “It can only be magic!”

        “It can only be a machine.” You roll your eyes and nod your head to the exit. “Now let’s go. Mr. Grumpy Pants here decided to reveal all the secrets.” 

        Bokuto blows a stray strand of hair away from his face with a pout before dragging himself out of his folded chair, following you and Akaashi out the door like a sad puppy.

        Outside, the sky is now a navy blue as the sun sets in the west. Parents and children are still roaming the park, but their voices have lowered as the streetlamps light their faces. The scent of ash and heat still hangs in the air, and you don’t hesitate to ask why.

        “There’s a firework show tonight,” Akaashi answers, checking out a glowing souvenir shop. “We’re gonna stay and watch it.” 

        “Umm, all right, but nature calls, so lemme go to the bathroom real quick.”

        “Okay, we’ll find you later!” 

        You pass off your collection of toys to Bokuto, who hugs them to his chest and takes a large whiff of their scent. You choose to ignore how his eyes glow red for a split second, and walk off with a wave over your shoulder to find a restroom.

                                ~~~

        “Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross,” you sing, shaking your hands frantically to air-dry while backing your way out of the women’s room. The door slams shut behind you as you squint in the night, searching for either of your kidnappers through the darkened park. 

        “Darling!” A bulky, white blur of a figure calls out to you in a familiar deep tone, and you jog over to Bokuto as he waves his arms. Barely avoiding tripping in your sandals, you slow to a stop in front of him, inhaling quickly at the small setup he and Akaashi must have created. 

        It’s a blanket with Funland’s logo laying on the forest floor in a secluded area of the park. The only life around you is the trees whishing in the warm wind, and the moon provides the only light, save for a small, floating candle Akaashi levitates from his seat on the green and purple fabric. Stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes surround the rectangle like a barrier, and the wizard pats the space beside him while Bokuto settles in on the other end of the blanket. 

        A soft smile creeps onto your face, and you wordlessly plop down between them, snatching a few pieces of popcorn from the bucket your vampire holds. The buttery goodness bursts with flavor in your mouth and makes you hum in delight. 

        Crickets chirp and owls hoot from within the woods that border the amusement park, the woods you currently relax in. Both men have content expressions on their faces, but Akaashi stretches out his legs in front of him, folding one over the other. Bokuto, same as you, is sitting crisscross with the treat in his lap, occasionally snagging a fistful and chewing without a care. 

        The atmosphere is peaceful and calm, almost romantic as the wizard leans back on one hand, using the other to slowly lower the candle to the ground before he turns to face you. 

        “My love.” His tone is smokey and guttural, enticing a flicker of heat in the pit of your stomach while his gunmetal blue eyes pierce through your heart. “Would you like to see some real magic?”

        A scoff almost chokes out of you, but in effort to preserve the tender mood, you disguise it with a bite of your lower lip. “I would love to, Akaashi.” 

        At the sound of his name falling from your lips, his pupils flare and a corner of his mouth quirks up. He nods to the fluffy barrier and waves his hand over their presence, allowing a maroon mist to wash over them. 

        Nothing happens for a second or two. Then, one by one, they twitch to life. Rainbow unicorns stomp their hooves against the floor. Rosy flamingos stretch out their limbs and flap their wings. Dogs shake out their pelts. Cats lean back deeply on their haunches and wiggle their tails. Pikachus crackle with artificial snaps of electricity. And finally, as the last of them grow accustomed to their newfound abilities to move, they begin to parade around the blanket like a miniature marching band, circling all three of your forms in perfect harmony with one another. 

        You can’t speak, you can only watch with childlike wonder as they play with each other. Kittens pounce on puppies, penguins hop over turtles, and every other creature putters along with silent steps on the forest floor. Your face softens in amazement, and you exhale lightly at the sight.

        “Wow, Akaashi.” Your voice is breathless, and your vision goes blurry thanks to your overgrown smile. “This is amazing!” You don’t dare grow any louder than a whisper, fearing that you might scare them away. It doesn’t really occur to you that they are all enchanted, and wouldn’t flee anyway.

        “Better than the magic show?” he smirks. Air hitches in your throat, and you can’t help but lean closer to his face. His gaze is hypnotizing enough, no spell required to draw you in, and you don’t even stir when a different hand, a rougher, larger hand from the other side of the blanket lands on your bare thigh. Your warm breaths brush past his lips, leading to him drawing in the lower between his teeth, sucking on the plump flesh alluringly.

        “Much better,” you nod, eyes locked on his entrancing actions. The hand on your thigh squeezes harder as a form leers closer to your back, hot puffs hitting your neck. 

        Close. They’re both so close. And somewhere deep down you want them even closer. You want to feel them. 

        Akaashi’s lips brush yours, and Bokuto’s run across your neck, and then-

        BOOM!

        Fireworks crackle in the sky and you jump away from them both, pressing a hand against your chest to calm your racing heart. 

        “Holy shit!” you shout, then begin to laugh at the perfect timing of the fireworks show. Just wonderful. 

        Red, green, and blue spades of fire crash and collide in the air. Cheers and whistles echo in the distance, and you can’t help but think what the fuck just happened?

        “Hehe, wow,” Bokuto chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, “guess the show started a little late.”

        “Yeah,” Akaashi responds gruffly, a vein popping in frustration on his forehead. Both men sound just as out of breath as you, but you don’t dare remove your eyes from the sky. Maybe you were afraid something would actually happen if you did….

        Or maybe you were afraid it wouldn’t. 

        “Darling!” The pet name almost floors you. “Catch!”

        You hesitantly glance at Bokuto in confusion, chest pumping, and your heart skips a beat when you catch sight of his flushed cheeks. 

        Then you get hit in the forehead with a kernel. 

        “Aww,” he pouts. “Open your mouth this time, darling!” 

        You do, and his Adam’s apple bobs before he tosses a piece, landing it perfectly on your tongue. Pressing your lips together, you chew on it with a relaxed smile, pleased at how easily Bokuto could thin out a tense atmosphere.

        “Mm, my turn, my turn!” you cheer, grabbing a handful of ammo and aiming at Bokuto’s wide grin. 

        “Hell yeah!” you cheer when you hit beginner’s luck, giggling when Bokuto gestures for more instead of eating the one. 

        You toss more and more, Bokuto does the same, and, at some point, Akaashi winds his arm around your waist calmly. The night grows darker, the moon rises higher in the sky, and soon, your eyes can barely stay open. 

        You yawn and recline back on the blanket, laughing breathlessly when a stuffed puppy boops your forehead.

        “Let’s go home, my love,” Akaashi softly smiles down at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch leaves a trail of sparks, much like the last fireworks dying in the sky. 

        “I’m too tired to get up, though.” With fluttering eyelids, you struggle to stay conscious as you reach your arms up lazily. “Carry me home.” 

        The wizard’s gaze darkens, still glued to your peaceful face while his jaw twitches at the sight. Then he glances up at Bokuto, who nods frantically just before your vision goes dark. 

        The last thing you feel is someone lugging you up on their muscular back, locking your ankles at their stomach and winding your arms around their shoulders while you doze off against their nape. 

                                ~~~

        Rain splatters against your balcony, and you sit up on your bed with an easy smile on your face. With a quick, euphoric stretch, you pat the cold mattress around you, searching for your nightly visitors only to come up empty. 

        “Bokuto? Akaashi?” 

        No response. The rest of the room is dead silent aside from the weather outside. Yawning, you throw off your covers and purse your lips at the nightgown you wear. Yes, you were falling for them. There, you admitted it. But that didn’t mean you liked how they would undress you while delirious. 

        Soft feet pattering against the hardwood floor, you stifle a snort at the sight of the stuffed animals thrown haphazardly around your room. Opening the door, you call out into the hallway, “Oh, come on, guys. You could’ve at least been gentle with the penguin.”

        Your voice echoes, but it still remains the only sound in the house. 

        Hours pass, and you still can’t find them. You’ve searched every hallway, every room, every goddamn nook and cranny in the house, and nothing. You even went out into your rose garden, where Akaashi had taught you how to water and care for them. 

        Nothing. 

        “Akaashi?! Bokuto?!” Your voice grows more frantic as you sprint through the house, eyes darting back and forth in search of any hint of where they’ve gone. 

        You only come to a halt at the one spot you haven’t checked. 

        The front doors.

        They were usually locked, trapping you inside and keeping everything else out. But maybe just this once they weren’t. 

        Hesitantly, almost reluctantly, you push down the handle with a bated breath. The gears grind within the ancient wood carvings, and you furrow your brows in concern when it opens.

        “A-Akaashi? Bokuto?” 

        Rain gathers in puddles on the front steps as you peer down the driveway. Still empty, still bare. No sign of your boys. But you still call out their names, and dare to wander farther out. 

        “Guys?” You step over and observe the hedges that line the mansion. 

        Swift footfalls scuff the pavement behind you, and you breathe out a sigh of relief. 

        “Oh thank God, I thought you guys went missing or someth-” 

        Fabric falls over your head, blocking out the light of the sun and easily dampening in the rain. A bag. You don’t miss a beat, and let out a loud scream of pure terror.

        “Let me go!” You struggle against the hands caging your wrists behind your back. One sneaks away to sensually stroke your left hip, barely protected by your thin, black silk nightgown. 

        A familiar cackle rings through the air, leaving your stomach to churn.

        Oh no.

        “I finally found you-”

        Oh God.

        “-Kitten.”

        Kuroo.

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Not a request but girl your writing is just *chefs kiss* and i just wanna say you deserve the world and more please take care of yourself and ily stay safe!!!❤❤✨

Oof someone kind enough to write this message deserves the world💜

I’m glad you like my writing and thank you so much🥰🥰 take care of yourself too, kind anon🥺💜

I'm so sorry it took me so long to finally read the second part. Again, I'm on my knees for desperate and in love Gaz. To have a man half as devoted as Gaz is would be a DREAM

ahhhh you're all good I just posted the final part and am mentally and emotionally exhausted...

...which means he is wonderfully whiny and needy all over again. I'm actually considering posting the blurbs i have left over from my idea doc for this fic but we'll see how this last part gets received first😬

but I'm so glad you enjoyed the second part!!🥹

Can I request Yandere Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya kidnapping a Fan Reader? Y/N is a fan but mostly those type of fans that admire from afar. But the reader can't handle being in the same room with the yandere. The reader gets all red and runs away. And if the yandere show affection, Y/N covers their face from embarrassment.

Kidnapping Fan Reader (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Ngl, this request is the bomb. Like seriously, I love ideas like these! Anyways, I’m gonna make these a lil long, and also I was a lil confused on how to make the reader a fan?? But I tried so here ya go. Please enjoy! (Side note: Good Lordy these are long😳😳 my bad)

Word count: 3814

Bakugou Katsuki:

As a pro hero, Bakugou was initially quite frightening to you. 

You were a nobody, just someone who always happened to be in the crowd whenever he had a person to save, but then your view of him changed when one day he saved a kitten from a tree in the park. 

It was the first time you had ever seen him so… calm. There was even a hint of a smile on his face when the cat chattered at him. Then, of course, he noticed you creepily watching him. 

A blush encompassed your face but before he could shout at you for watching him, you had dashed away with your hands on your cheeks. 

At first, Bakugou was confused. What a dumbass.

But then it was like he was seeing your blushing face everywhere. No one had ever looked at him like that-- like he was cute. 

Months passed, and you couldn’t help but notice the hero Ground Zero had become partial to patrolling your part of town for any danger. 

You brushed it off, counting it as a blessing since you often got to see him on the rooftop across from your apartment building, just surveying the street below. 

If only you had known that he was only watching you.

Bakugou couldn’t believe how stupid you were, leaving your window so open and bare for anyone to peer inside. Anyone could watch and see how you curled up on your couch to read a book. They could see how you would slowly fall asleep, head dropping back as a bit of drool dribbled down your chin. Any loser stupid enough to look through the glass would see how your shirt became rumpled as you shifted in your sleep. It was large enough to slip off one shoulder and leave your untainted skin bare for anyone to corrupt. 

God, it was like you were teasing him, daring him to come take what was his. Bakugou would teach you a lesson or two about toying with him. 

The wind blew through your open window. You always left it cracked since your AC was a bit fickle. And as you dozed off to sleep, you were almost certain that squeaky noise that reminded you to buy a little WD-40 once in a while was only a dream. 

Licking his lips, Bakugou slid open your window, cringing as it whined with the movement. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath, pushing it up the rest of the way. Thankfully, you were already knocked out, soft snores falling from your lips in a steady pattern. 

He couldn’t help but glance around your apartment, snickering at the sight of a poster in your open bedroom. It was from a photoshoot of his from when he first debuted as a pro hero. You had purchased the partially shirtless version. 

Surely you wanted this too, then.

And with that logic, he didn’t worry when your eyes fluttered open after he picked you up. 

Mind foggy, you were rudely awakened from your dream about a certain pro hero when you felt your body being lifted. The perpetrator made you wonder if you were still dreaming. 

“Ground Zero?”

“It’s Katsuki, babe. Call me Katsuki from now on.” His arms felt like solid metal, caging your knees and side to his chest as he carried you bridal style to your- open window?!

“W-what are you doing?” He snickers at this.

“Oh please. Don’t act all innocent now. I’ve seen your poster of me, and how you blush whenever I stop a villain in front of you. You want me, YN. And I want you too.”

“Please, I don’t want this!” You struggle in his arms, placing your hands on his chest to push him away but he doesn’t budge. 

“You little tease,” he hisses, using his arms to hold you over the ten story drop that was your open window. “I know what you like.” Fear leaves your body trembling as you default to your instincts, wrapping your arms around his neck so as to not fall to your death. Bakugou grins at this. “You think I don’t know how to read you by now?”

“Please don’t.” 

“Oh, don’t worry babe. I’m taking you home.”

And with that, he hops out of the window and explodes his way through the skies, reveling in the way you cling to his body so tightly. Your whines and whimpers were so cute. Almost as adorable as the blush you used to always wear around him.

It only takes a year to break you. 

In his own home, he kept you locked up tightly. Every window was barred and every door to freedom had six locks, each matching the keys he dangled on his fingertips every time he came home. 

In the first few weeks, you were scared of him and what he would do. Then a month later, you determined his attitude: he was naturally loud and volatile, but he would never hurt you. From then on, he expected you to act a certain way.

Cook him dinner, greet him with a kiss, sleep in his arms, and never try to escape. 

It had been a struggle to get you to agree to the pattern, but after months and months of practice, you finally got in the groove. 

Bakugou even got to see that classic blush of yours whenever he arrived home and peppered your face with kisses. 

Totally worth it.

Todoroki Shouto:

With Todoroki, you’re just a minor student in the Support class of UA, but everytime you cross paths with him in the halls, you let out a squeak and sprint past him. 

Todoroki tried to shake it off. Of course, you weren’t the first person to be wary of him and his abilities. Honestly, it was nothing new and he had a mark to prove it. 

Really, it’s true. Todoroki thought you hated his guts. You always avoid talking to him and hide your face whenever he comes into a room. He thought that was a red flush of anger on your face. 

It’s only when Kaminari groans about how jealous he is over the whole thing. 

“Ugh, Todoroki, you’re so lucky. Why does a hottie like YN have to be whipped for a guy like you?!”

Todoroki just shrugs and walks away, but it only hits him later in his dorm that “Oh shit, that’s what that is.”

He’s all like, “Hmm, makes sense.”

It doesn’t make sense, but he still likes you.

He’s not really sure why, he just does. Todoroki’s never had a girl that acted like you around him. Acted like he was this great person worthy of admiration, whether from a distance or up close. 

The thought of you begins to leave fuzzy feelings in his chest. You? Whipped for him? Nu-uh, no way.

But God, then he notices the way you smile when he enters a room, just before you hide your face. And the way you stutter and fumble over your feet to run away when he talks to you. 

With a quick Google search, he deduces that these are all signs of a crush. 

Oh. Ohh. Well… Todoroki kind of liked that. 

And the next day, he was determined to talk to you. He wanted to see those cherry cheeks up close, and those little flecks of color in your eyes as well. He wanted to see your pupils dilate and your lips fumble for words because you were speechless at the sight of-

What.

A man. No, not a man. An unworthy piece of shit was talking to you. Making you laugh and giggle enough that a rosy tint fell on your face. He was too close for comfort, only inches away from brushing your hand with his. 

Todoroki had to stop this. 

In seconds, he’s covered the distance between you two, feet stomping against the floor loud enough to gather the attention of most in the classroom. He had barged into your classroom to talk to you.

“T-todoroki,” you stutter pathetically, eyes wide as you scramble to hide your face. Blood had risen to the skin of your neck, clear as day thanks to you turning your head to the side. 

“YN, I need to talk to you.” With a hard glare at the other guy, the Class 1A student latches a cold hand over your wrist and tugs you out of the classroom, other students watching in awe at the display. 

“W-what are you-” you cut yourself off and curse under your breath, heat gathering in your face. God, you hated how you couldn’t control yourself in front of him.

Todoroki loved it.

“Shh, just come with me,” he hushes, dragging you into a nearby janitor’s closet just as the bell rings.

“But we need to get to class,” you choke out, proud of how you kept your words steady this round. Butterflies flutter in your abdomen when he pulls you into the tiny room, closing the door behind him before turning to you. 

“We can skip for a bit.” Heterochromatic eyes burn into your own, leaving you ducking your head and scuffing your shoes on the floor. 

“Why-” your question falls from your lips when Todoroki begins to leer closer to you. The sudden proximity leaves you stumbling back until you hit a wall, gulping when his forearms cage you in, one on either side of your head. 

“I didn’t like that, YN.”

“L-like what?”

“That guy,” he seethes. A heat begins to flow off him, growing hot enough to make your forehead perspire. The other half of your body is almost numb, slowly fading into the first dead twinges of frostbite. One of your cheeks feels sunburned while the other is completely desensitized. “He shouldn’t have been touching you.”

Was this a dream? This boy, a soon-to-be pro hero and one of the top in the school, had cornered you in a closet with his face inches away from yours. You didn’t even know he knew you existed. You had always watched from afar, first falling for his aloof looks at the sports festival. 

And now… you just didn’t know. 

“I can’t let that happen again, YN. I just can’t let you run around talking to other guys, laughing and being so close to them when you know you’re mine.” 

What was he going on about?

“Not anymore,” he finally adds, pressing his forehead against yours and staring into your eyes. 

It doesn’t dawn until it happens that he had grabbed a cloth off a shelf in the janitor’s closet. The sickly sweet smell of chloroform invades your senses as you scream in surprise.

You couldn’t help it after a while. You were so tired. And as your vision fades to black, Todoroki purses his lips and wraps his spare arm around your waist. “Not anymore,” he mutters.

You had always known the Todoroki family was loaded. Though it’s not why you liked him, you couldn’t avoid the fact that he used it to his advantage-- especially with you. 

He had bought a small apartment only a few blocks away from UA and decked it out with soundproof walls, bulletproof glass, and locks on everything. 

The one bedroom-- your bedroom-- was beautiful. Silk sheets on a king-sized bed, canopy overhanging it like a protective curtain. There was a bookshelf and a television for your entertainment, along with a window seat so you could see the outside-- the glass was tinted, of course. He didn’t want anyone invading your privacy. 

A closet was filled to the brim with clothing of your size, all fitting like they had been tailored for your body alone. As much as you hated to admit it, Todoroki treated you like a queen. A kidnapped one, yes, but a queen nonetheless. 

He was only waiting for the day that you would ask him to join you on that large, lonely bed of yours. 

Midoriya Izuku: 

In all sense of the word, you were his fan. Really, there was nothing more to it. 

You would flock to all his fights, simply amazed by his power and will. He was a hero, pure and kind to all with an open mind for everyone, and you admired that. 

It also didn’t hurt that Deku was attractive. Rippling muscles hid behind a green costume, almost too similar to the retired hero All Might’s. Freckles dusted over the bridge of his nose and onto the tips of his cheeks, giving him an almost boyish look, but there was something in his eyes. Something you couldn’t see unless he looked directly at you- Oh!

You glanced away with a blush after the number one hero looked up from tying down the villain he had captured. He must have felt your eyes and saw you staring like a hawk-- how embarrassing!

Of course, you weren’t the only one watching him. There was an entire crowd gathered to see the pro hero do his thing. It was only awkward that he had made eye contact with you of all people. What made it worse was that he had smirked. 

Not even his normal, everyday smile that he gave to everyone, but a sly, devious little quirk of his lips. It looked so foreign on his face, and it felt like he knew something you didn’t. 

Ugh, how embarrassing.

You couldn’t hide the heat on your cheeks so you decided to abandon the group of fans, leaving them to watch the rest of Deku’s and hoping to catch up on the news later that night. 

If only you knew that wouldn’t be the first time he had noticed you in a crowd. 

Deku had been watching you for weeks. You were just so adorable, he couldn’t help himself. And honestly, deep down he sees himself in you. There’s a strength behind your eyes, a confidence to do something, and a will to make things happen. 

Deku wanted to help you discover how great you are. In the beginning, at least.

Now, it’s become more of an obsession. 

Under the guise that he wants to see what quirk or potential you have, he’s fallen into the habit of watching you in his spare time. 

No, it’s not stalking. He’s just making sure you’re safe. 

Somewhere during this process of wanting to get to know your life, he’s discovered that you’re perfect. Not only for him, but for everybody. 

You were kind to others, always handing out compliments and taking the high road in arguments. So pure, so untouched. Deku wanted to keep it that way. 

It was all the better when he had followed you home one day and saw it-- the home screen of your phone. It was a picture of him taken by a local fansite. Dramatic flames had been photoshopped behind his outlined form, and even Deku had to admit he looked good. The picture had caught every detail, every indent of his body the hero suit clung to and enhanced. 

He caught you biting your lip and clicking your phone off with a blush before continuing home. 

Deku just knew he had to tease you more. 

What he felt wasn’t fluffy at all. It was intense. A deep, possessive side of him had been unlocked the more he followed you. One day, he knew he had to do something about it. 

Another kidnapping, another villain fought, and as expected, you were among the crowd of spectators. Deku figured you were just as addicted to him as he was to you.

You must’ve been. It was the only explanation. 

You wiggled your way through the crowd all the way to the edge, right where you could peek between all the surrounding people and catch a glimpse of the battle. 

Blood poured from a gash in Deku’s head as he dodged another swing from the villain. 

He hasn’t been moving his legs much, surely I can strike… now!

With a swift kick of his foot, Deku cracked the villain’s kneecap with enough force to make him crumple to the ground. His audience cheered at the sight and news reporters began smiling at their cameras, announcing to their viewers at home that the number one hero had won yet another battle.

While he kneeled down on the villain’s back, his gaze wandered the crowd. 

Where? Where is she? Where’s YN? 

Panic struck his heart when he couldn’t find you in your usual front row spot. No, you were here. You had to be.

His ears perked through all the jabberings of the crowd at the sound of a single camera clicking. Eyes darting back and forth, he finally spotted your signature phone case, with a chibi version of his own face on the back. 

Relief floods his system all before that familiar rush of arrogance that always comes with you watching him takes over. As soon as he finally catches your eye, he throws you a wink.

The outcome is certainly not disappointing. 

Oh my God, he just winked at me. 

You blanch at the sight before your throat releases a little squeal of excitement. You hadn’t even opened your mouth, but apparently it was still audible from thirty feet away. 

You’re almost positive steam is blowing from your ears by the time Deku begins chuckling, green eyes twinkling in glee. 

 Before you could spontaneously combust, you hightail it out of there, shouldering through the crowd and tearing cheek all the way to your house like a bat out of hell. 

“That did not just happen!” You slam your apartment door behind you, coughing and heaving breaths as it had been a while since you ran a goddamn marathon. 

“Oh my God, kill meeeeee,” you whine, running your hands down your face before flopping backwards onto the couch. Evidently, you had accidentally sat on your remote, as the television clicks on and scares the shit out of you. 

“Number one hero Deku defeated the villain only twenty minutes ago, right outside this gas station. Now, we do have footage, but we must warn that it may be graphic for some viewers.”

Your eyes drift to the screen as it switches to footage of the actual fight. Deku takes a hit right to the forehead, leaving a small gash before he dodges and jams the heel of his foot into his opponent’s kneecap, dropping him in seconds. The footage drags on for a few more seconds, and your face burns at the sight of him winking and snickering. 

“They actually got footage of that?!” Part of you is mortified that people all over the city had now seen that (and you’re a bit surprised that it was even real), but the other half is almost glad that it was you he had done that for. Your heart warms at the thought.

“I know, right? I kinda want to save that video now. If only they had caught your cute little blush too.” The sudden voice leaves you lying rigid on your couch. It’s a man’s, and it sounds way too cheerful for your average robber.

“Who are yo-” you cut yourself off when the man comes into view, taking your breath away. 

“Hi darling,” Deku grins. A rough hand peels away from his side to brush the hair away from your face, not faltering when you flinch away. 

“Deku…?” You try to sit up but in an instant, he’s straddling you, one leg on either side of your hip while his face nuzzles against yours. 

“God this is a dream come true, don’t you agree?” 

“How…?” Your mind has truly gone blank, even as your mouth gapes like a fish. 

“Don’t you agree?” Deku repeats insistently. The knees on either side of your hips have begun to press against you with bruising force. His hands trail up and down your arms slowly, just trying to feel you. 

“Why are you here?”

Deku huffs and pulls away, only to press his forehead against yours. “C’mon YN, I know you’re smarter than that.” Rude. “I’m here so we can finally be together!” 

Your hands tremble at your sides. There’s a definitive edge to his tone that makes you understand there’s no other way out of this.

“... You want to be together, right?” Only a second ago, he looked so dangerous and now his eyes are watering. Who exactly had you fallen for? 

“Deku… we don’t know each other.” It was then that you discovered there was nothing more awkward than reassuring a random man straddling your lap. The awkwardness only increased when his tears began to drip down onto your face. 

“YN, please don’t make me do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“I really didn’t want to do this, but I can see now there’s no other way.”

“Deku,” you don’t like the low timber that has grown into his tone, “what are you doing?” 

There was no point in fighting. Deku was a pro hero, number one at that. He’d trained for years, perfecting his body and his quirk, and the best you’ve ever done is buy a gym membership and never use it. 

That’s exactly why no matter how you pushed against his broad shoulders, his toned chest, or even tried to knee him where the sun didn't shine, you couldn’t stop him from pulling the cloth out of his pocket and laying it over your face. 

“Shh,” he couldn’t hold back his tears as you struggled. “Please don’t fight it, YN. Just breathe it in and I promise we can be together forever. Just breathe.”

You wanted to keep fighting. You didn’t want to go where this insane, batshit hero would inevitably take you. But God…

You were so tired…

The next time you wake up, the sun is shining through a nearby window. What you assume is a bed lies beneath you, enveloping you in it’s soft covers. 

Solid, muscular arms are wound around you like a barrier, and you finally take note of what had woken you up.

Pain. Teeth are nibbling at the skin of your neck, no doubt leaving marks.

“Please stop,” you say, voice scratched from little use. The thigh that has worked its way between the two of your own presses higher against your sensitivity, shifting with excitement as Deku smiles.

“Good morning, darling! Welcome to your new home!”

His Mask (Kylo Ren x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After your very first mission for the Resistance goes awry, you can’t help but feel a connection to the Supreme Leader sent to interrogate you. However, when he lets you go after reading the name on your wrist, you can’t help but feel like the mission hadn’t accidentally gone so wrong after all. 

A/N: So like… this was one of the dudes I’ve been drooling over for the past couple weeks. Just a warning, I’ve only watched the first movie of the prequels and even that was like four years ago, so I wish you luck. Kylo is just *mwah* so freaking pretty I couldn’t help myself. Enjoy my first fic about a *non-animated* person, and Merry Christmas y’all!

Word count: 4115

        Hot. Dark. Dank.

        The bag haphazardly shoved over your head blinded your eyes along with your other four senses. Stray hairs plastered to your forehead with ease thanks to the sweat you produced combined with the condensation from your own breaths.

        “Please, let me go,” you sniveled. “I don’t know anything, I swear.”

        Your hands flexed and tugged against the metal clamps strapped over your wrists, doing nothing but leaving behind a rash you yearned to soothe. The chair you were strapped into was more like a reclining board, leaving your head to rest on stiff metal while your feet hovered above the floor, ankles confined akin to your arms. 

        “I think you know more than you’re letting on.” The voice was gruff and modulated, giving signs that this was the masked man you oh-so wanted to be the last person to interrogate you. 

        It was frustrating and terrifying all at the same time. Not only did you have no idea what information they wanted to extract from your brain, you also knew your denial of such would only cause them to hound you more. 

        “Come on,” you whimpered, head slamming back with a clang. “Just let me go. Please.”

        Silence followed your words for a solid minute before a whoosh of fabric met your ears. 

        “Leave us,” the robotic voice mumbled, causing two or three heavy pairs of footsteps to trail out of the room. What you assumed was the door hissed to a close with one final click. 

        More footsteps, these ones drawing closer to you, left you only to tense up in anticipation as the heat of another person took the place of the stale air on your right side.

        The bag over your head was ripped away in an instant, causing you to gasp and swallow as much cool oxygen as possible. The light of the room stung your eyes less than you expected, most likely because it itself was dimmed with hues of deep blue climbing up the walls. 

        Taking in your surroundings, you immediately noticed your interrogator was nowhere near your field of vision--probably on purpose. 

        His presence, instead, was palpable behind you as the heat of his form rolled off in waves. 

        “There’s no one here to save you now.” 

        Though you didn’t need to be told that, the thought still drove a cold stake of fear through your heart. 

        “Come on, I don’t know anything,” you pleaded, shifting your position to try and stare at the man who seemed adamant on not allowing you even a glimpse of his form. 

        “Then perhaps I should stop bothering with the theatrics.”

        The man the Resistance had warned you about was… intimidating. At least you knew you could trust them about that fact. Black leather covered every inch of his powerful figure, save for his helmet and cape, and a lightsaber was strapped to his hip. Watching the way his hand twitched just near the handle of the weapon, you feared he would pull it out and slice you right in half any second. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears but it couldn’t silence his voice. Sweat dripped down your face and clammed your palms when his head tilted to the side. 

        He wasn’t shy about observing you, doing so for what felt like hours. 

        “What is your name?” he finally grunted out, posture never changing. You, on the other hand, twitched and shivered every few seconds, itching to crawl into a hole and never come out. 

        Should I lie? Should I tell the truth? Would he be able to know even if I did?

        This man held your fate in his hands. To him, you were just another prisoner to gain information from and deposit into the nearest waste planet when he was done.

        But to you, he was the man who could kill you without batting an eye. It didn’t matter if you were someone’s soulmate or daughter or friend; you were just someone who happened to get involved in this galaxy’s war. A poor soul among many this man was ready to sacrifice in order for him to gain power. 

        You were nothing but another bug to squash. 

        “YN,” you dropped your head to your chest, acknowledging your fate. “YN YLN. And I still don’t know any information that might-”

        Clang!

        You flinched as the lightsaber crashed onto the floor, following its path back to the shaking hand that had dropped it. The man before you now stood stiff as a board but you could hear him suck in a breath between his teeth.

        “Your name is-” he cut himself off and cleared his throat. “What’s your name again?” Unlike the last five minutes, his voice suddenly sounded less sure and demanding. He sounded unstable--one of the many emotions you never expected from one of the most feared people of the galaxy. 

        You hesitated, furrowing your brows before forcing your eyes to trail from his still-trembling hand to his mask. “It’s… YN.” You swallowed, licking your lips before continuing, “Why?”

        “Your wrist. Let me see it.”

        “What?” Suddenly, his every movement had your attention. You reared back in your chair and tensed all your muscles, trying even harder to rip straight through the solid metal. “No!”

        “Show me,” he ordered, his tone now sharper than a blade. 

        To hell with him.

        The second he reached for your hand, you ripped it away, keeping your wrist face down against the metal clasp he had unlocked to reach it. Just when he grasped your hand for the third time and tried to rip it away from your side, you did something that shocked both you and him out of the stupor of war. 

        Spit dribbled straight down the middle of his helmet, sparkling in the dim lighting of the room while trailing down every indent in the silver detailing around his eyes. 

        Oh shit. I’m fucked.

        Ever so slowly, he dropped your wrist and straightened his posture, facing his head towards something just off in the distance past your own. You bit your tongue and watched his every move with a hawklike focus, knowing that a man trained as much as him could kill you in a split second without you even realizing. 

        Even when his hand raised in what you expected to be the last backhand of your life, you never looked away or braced for impact. 

        So you grew confused when his hand traveled up to his mask, which came undone with a small hiss of pressurized air. 

        Oh. 

        Oh okay. 

        Wow.

        He was…. His hair was…. Damn.

        This man, the man before you, was hot. Beauty marks decorated his right cheek as hazel eyes burned into your own. A long, straight nose sat naturally lifted above lips that seemed too plump for their own good and dark brown curls that had never heard the words “helmet hair” just barely reached the end of a pointed chin--all of which made you consider your sanity. 

        How-… how?

        “Sorry about the helmet.” Nice one, YN. Apologizing to the enemy.

        His face never changed; he only looked you up and down, properly this time. You were too caught up in the shock of his surprising allure to notice just where his eyes had landed. 

        It was only when you felt your arm being lifted away from your body that you were shaken from your daze. “Hey-”

        “Hmm.”

        Your brows furrowed. “‘Hmm’?” You tried to rip your wrist from his iron-tight grip but you soon noticed the effort was useless. “What the hell does that mean?”

        “Your soulmate…” he trailed off, cheek twitching as he glanced away. “He is…”

        “What?”

        “He’s…” the man set his jaw and returned his gaze to yours. You only noticed there had been a warmth in his eyes when it was gone; all he gave you now was stone-cold nothingness. “He’s dead.”

        His gloved hand dropped your right wrist and it only flopped down to your side. He’s dead. Whatever emotion you’d had on your face dropped in exchange for a blank slate. Tears pricked your eyes and yet you felt stupid for even mourning someone you’d never met. 

        “Oh.” 

        The logical part of you that had shriveled to the size of a worm still questioned the relevance of this all. How did this man know your soulmate? Why had he been so adamant on seeing his name in the first place? What did he have to do with any of this?

        The man you still had no name for clenched his jaw and turned away as a tear slipped down your cheek. 

        “We have no use for you.”

        “What-”

        “You will be returned to where you were found. Now that we know you have no relation to the Resistance, your name will not be blacklisted and you will be left alone.”

        “Why-”

        He left no room for your confused--albeit broken--questions as he turned away and pressed his hand against a glowing panel near the entrance to the room. The door slid open to reveal a blinding, white hallway guarded by a single stormtrooper. 

        “Hey, wait!” You tugged against the restraints as your eyes stayed locked on his back, only to crash onto the cold floor when the clasps suddenly released. “Oof!”

        Click. With his mask situated back over his face, he finally faced you once more, his soldier standing at attention by his side. 

        “I’m sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you.”

                                +++

        “YN, you’re back!” 

        The Resistance leader, Leia, glanced up from the holopad. Her dark brows raised high enough to meet her hairline as her lips separated in shock. 

        “YN.”

        You struggled to meet her eyes or even fake a smile at the one who had greeted you. “General,” you cringed at your raw voice, feeling the onset of crying side-effects attack you all at once, “can we talk in private… please?”

        Leia schooled in her surprise enough to nod at the other Resistance members, gesturing her head towards the exit just behind you. They filed out accordingly, each one more concerned than the last about your distraught appearance. 

        Finally, when it was just the two of you left in the room, Leia directed you to the table she stood at, shutting down the holopad so the only light in the room buzzed from the ceiling, flickering every two seconds due to the overgrown tree roots weaving in and out of each electric wire. 

        “YN, I’m so sorry we got separated on that mission. I never meant for you to be left behind like that.” Leia shook her head at herself in shame, but something told you she was avoiding eye contact for a reason. “Did you-... are you okay?”

        “Yes,” you nodded, dropping into a single leather chair sitting at a computer a few feet away from the holopad’s table. “Yeah, for some reason, I’m fine. They-,” you glanced at your wrist before swallowing and returning your eyes to her face, “-they let me go. I don’t know why they did, but they let me go.”

        “Did you-”

        “General,” you interrupted with a shake of your head, “please, I need to tell you something.”

        Leia got the hint and grabbed the second chair in the room, sitting with a straight back and hands splayed out on her lap. They seemed to twitch for something--something like a weapon to protect herself. You guessed it was a habit of hers, but since you had only known her for six  months or so, you tried not to think too much of it. 

        Ever since she had found you holed up in your home hiding from the First Order soldiers that had attacked your town, she had taken you in. “Something about you,” she had said with a knowing smile, “I just want to make sure you’re safe.” She had treated you like her own daughter, much different from how she’d treat the other Rebels. Every two seconds, she would scan you for injuries or ask if you were okay. She’d even let you stay in her own home, in a spare room. 

        At least, you had thought it was a spare room. 

        It only took her two months of knowing you before she revealed the name on your wrist was her son’s. The very room you stayed in had been his, Ben Solo’s, and she’d wanted to make sure her son’s soulmate was safe and healthy in case she’d ever found him again. 

        She’d told you the story of how she got separated from him during a skirmish with the First Order and ever since she’d been searching for him. 

        It was only today that you knew she needed to give up the search. 

        “Leia, I-,” your breathing grew quicker and your headache grew worse and before you knew it, you were shedding tears. “Leia, I’m so sorry.”

        The former princess tensed up and reached a hand toward you. “YN, what-”

        “He’s gone,” you whispered, shaking your head and pursing your lips, “I found out when I got captured.”

        “Kylo’s dead?” she breathed out, eyes growing forlorn. You paused, raising your eyes to study her face. 

        “What?” You sniffled, wiping away the tears and growing confused at her words. “What do you mean? Who’s Kylo?”

        “The man who…” Leia’s words broke off when a sort of realization dawned in her eyes. “Oh.”

        You were at a loss for words, utterly confused at her silence when you noticed something. 

        Her eyes. Her nose. The hair, the nervous habits, the “lost” family pictures, all of it. 

        “Kylo was the man who captured me,” you muttered, eyes growing wide and thumb running over your wrist, “but he’s not Kylo on my wrist, is he?”

        Leia was trained in keeping secrets and her expression was as calm as one could expect, but it was only for one single reason. 

        She wanted to let you down easy.

        “No, YN. His name used to be Ben Solo.”

        “And it’s not anymore.”

        “No. Now he goes by Kylo Ren,” she closed her eyes and dropped her head. “That’s his name now… in the First Order.” 

        “You knew?” A spark of betrayal flickered in the pit of your stomach. Though he was Leia’s son, he was also your soulmate. Some part of you felt like you had a right to know what had happened to him--especially if he had done something as significant as turning to the dark side. 

        Instead, she had lied to you, omitting just enough of the truth that you would stick around. 

        Lord knows you would have left months ago if you had learned of the person he had turned into. 

        A thought hit you--a terrible, painful thought that had you gulping and biting your cheek. “Did…” your fingernails dig into your palms to steady your breathing, “did you want me to get captured? By him?”

        Her lack of a response was all you needed to know. 

        “Oh, my God. You knew. You knew the entire time. That’s why you took me in. You thought I could save him.”

        “YN, please, I had to-”

        “You didn’t have to do anything,” you clenched your eyes closed, resentment overtaking anguish deep in your chest. “You didn’t have to lead me to him like a lamb to the slaughter.”

        More tears fell, and the one person you thought you could trust in this galaxy only sat by and watched, opening and closing her mouth without a single word escaping. 

        “I just wanted my son back,” she finally whispered, “I didn’t want him to lose himself like my father had.” 

        “Yeah,” you scoffed, licking your lips and rising from your seat. “Well, now you’ve just lost another person.”

        “YN, wait-”

        “I’m leaving,” you breathed out, shaking your head hopelessly, “so please don’t bother coming after me.”

        Nobody said a word to you as you walked to the nearest empty craft and boarded, and the only ones who tried were hushed by Leia. 

        “Let her go. She wants to be alone now.”

                                +++

        The bar was chattier than usual, though you blamed it on being a Friday afternoon. The outside was hot and though you could still feel the beating sun through the glass windows, the tan building was a hell of a lot cooler. Air conditioning clanked and buzzed as you cleaned glasses and bused bottles. 

        “YN,” the bartender of the night handed you a damp rag and gestured to a table just over the bar ledge, “stop moping around or I’ll cut more than your paycheck.”

        You sighed and grimaced, accepting the dripping cloth before tiptoeing your way around the many customers already reaching their alcoholic limits. 

        Only two weeks had passed since the worst day of your life and you still felt the sting of betrayal and rejection. Not only had the man you were supposed to spend the rest of your life ended up being the daunting Supreme Leader of the First Order, but the woman you had almost grown to love as your own mother had delivered you straight into the palms of his hands. 

        You were lost and confused, trying to find some sort of way to keep traveling across the galaxy by making money anyway possible. Sadly, only bounty hunter bars seemed interested in allowing an unknown, unwanted female to wash their dishes and tables. 

        “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, wedging a used fork under what must’ve been the third piece of gum stuck to a wooden chair that day. Gambling and poker around the room must have reached an all-time high as cheers and groans ringed in your ears. An all-around unpleasant buzz settled directly between your temples as you bit your lip, scraping at the gum harder and harder until finally--finally--the last string of green tore away from the seat and gathered around the fork’s prongs. 

        Forearm burning, you almost permitted yourself a small cheer in success until you noticed a change in the bar’s atmosphere. 

        Everyone was dead silent as the bell atop the entryway stopped jingling. The wooden door creaked to a close and five to ten pairs of heavy footsteps thumped against the dusty concrete of the bar’s floor. 

        Panic froze you like a deer in headlights, hoping your location in the back corner of the bar hid you from whoever had entered. You didn’t even dare raise your head for fear of drawing attention to yourself. 

        The person who had the power to silence a crowd of former soldiers, bounty hunters, and drunk mechanics was not someone you wanted the focus of. 

        More footsteps pounded on the floor, drawing closer before a familiar voice spoke up. 

        “Clear everyone out,” Kylo ordered. “Then leave us.” 

        Your heart jumped at his firm, mechanized tone and a warm wave of fuzzy feelings washed over you. After being by your bitter self for so long, you suppose the new emotion wasn’t completely unwanted. You just… weren’t sure if you were happy about its cause. 

        Eyes still locked on the tabletop, you listened as people filed out of the building without question, more than likely at gunpoint with hands raised above their heads. A solid five minutes passed before the room was left completely empty aside from you and your soulmate, and you chastised yourself for deriving some sort of pleasure out of the opportunity of getting to see him again. 

        “YN.”

        “Why are you here?” You spun around to face him, surprised to find his hand outstretched and reaching towards you. Almost immediately, it dropped to his side as he straightened his posture. 

        Deep down, your heart glowed at his presence, and you hated it. You hated that even after everything that had happened, everything you had learned, that you still wanted to see him. You wanted to feel his touch and see his face again. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted to see your own name in your own handwriting on his wrist. 

        You cursed at whoever had placed his name on your wrist, because you were falling for the man before you before you had even seen his face twice. 

        Kylo’s hands raised from his side, pausing midway for just a second before reaching up fully and removing his helmet. Like before, it clicked and pulled away with a hiss and, of course, his hair looked untouched. 

        That said nothing of his appearance, however. 

        His eyes held dark circles you didn’t quite remember from your last meeting and his lips seemed paler. The brown locks, as you took a second closer look, seemed more flat and dull than you remembered. 

        Maybe it had been the glory of your first meeting, or maybe it just so happened to be that he was feeling as bad as you had been without having your soulmate by your side. 

        No, it wasn’t physical, like a stabbing pain in your side. It had been more like a piece of yourself had been missing; like there was a hole in your heart that ached and ached, but you just didn’t know how to solve it. 

        Seeing Kylo now made it fade just a little, but just as much time together would be needed to heal how much time you had spent apart. 

        The Supreme Leader set down his helmet just next to your forgotten rag and gum-fork on the table before returning his attention to you. With a twitch of a muscle in his jaw, he met your eyes and spoke. 

        “I thought tracking you down would have been hard, and yet you decided to find home in a place where information can be bought at any price.”

        “Maybe I wanted to be found.” The words slipped from your lips without volition but you couldn’t deny their truth. You wanted to see him again because, though your first meeting had only lasted minutes, you found it hard to focus on anything else.

        His lips twitched at your confession and he took that as an invitation to step closer. “I’m glad then.” 

        “Kylo-”

        “Because you’re coming with me,” he latched a hand around your wrist, “willingly or not.”

        Your eyes widened and some part of you screamed to pull away; maybe it was the logical part of your brain, or perhaps it was your brain altogether.

        Either way, you didn’t care to listen.

        “I’ll go with you,” you nodded, “but only on one condition.”

        Hazel eyes met yours and he nodded curtly. “Anything.”

        “Let me see my name.”

        His brows furrowed for a split second before he released your wrist and removed his right glove, tugging up his sleeve and flashing just the minimum amount of bare skin. 

        YN YLN. Same easy handwriting, a little too heavy in the beginning but lighter in tone at the end. Your name was a bold black, a stark contrast from the rest of his paled wrist. 

        Without a word, you reached forward and snagged his hand, running your index finger over the name and smiling at the quick breath he sucked in. 

        You felt it too--the rush of pure endorphins travelling down your spine, through every nerve ending in your body. 

        Unconcealed happiness. Sheer pleasure. You shivered a tad at the giddiness running through your veins. 

        Kylo was much better at concealing his emotions, allowing only a small tilt of the corner of his lips while his pupils widened at the feeling. 

        “I’ll go with you,” you nodded, a small grin making its way onto your face. “I want… I want to be with you.” If possible, his eyes glowed even brighter and a hint of adoration creased the corner of his lids.

        “Good.” Ever so hesitantly, he reached a hand up to cup the side of your face. “Then we shall rule this galaxy together, my empress.” You leaned into his hold and pressed a hand against his own, intertwining your fingers with his against your cheek.

        “Just one more request.”

        “Anything for you.”

        “Stop wearing that goddamned mask.”

Operation Breakup Backfires (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: What’s the harm of a little breakup prank? It doesn’t even work anyway….

A/N: There’s no shortage of Bakugou ideas in my brain, I swear. Also, this might be the first of a little prank “series” I’ll be writing for multiple characters, idk. It just depends if I get more ideas. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1236

       “I’m gonna do it.” You knew it was mean, but you really wanted to see how your explosive blondie would react. 

       “Okay, yeah that’s great,” Kirishima says, “but you know he’s gonna spontaneously combust, right?” You click your tongue. 

       “Oh c’mon, it won’t be that bad.” Crossing your arms, you relax deeper into your assigned seat while Kirishima shakes his head frantically, his palms slamming against the surface of your desk.

       “You’ve met Bakugou, right?” 

       “Yes, I’ve met my own boyfriend,” you scoff, jaw twitching. 

       “Then you know how stupid of an idea this is. The Baku-beast is gonna come out of hibernation if you do this!” Was it ever in hibernation? You shake the thought away and wave your hand dismissively. 

       “I won’t let it go that far, I promise.” Kirishima raises his brows at you.  

       “I don’t believe you. This is gonna be a nightmare,” he mutters with wide, anxious eyes. 

       “He’s not gonna hurt me!” The redhead nods. 

       “Oh, I know that. What’ll happen is he’ll take it out on the rest of us and it’ll be a bloodbath!” He nervously rubs the back of his neck while mumbling, “My throat never looks good post-Baku-strangle.” The phrase mystifies you.

       “Ok. First of all, you have a name for that?” You shake your head, baffled. “Second of all, quit being a wuss.” He grows offended at your words, holding a hand to his chest. 

       “I’m not being a wuss, I’m being logical,” he corrects you with a confident head nod. You roll your eyes at the act. Ever so discreetly, you cough out a loud “Wuss!” while mockingly covering your mouth. Kirishima hurls a withering glare at you. 

       “I am not-”

       “Shush!” You cover your lips with a finger and nod your head towards Bakugou stepping through the doorway. The redhead huffs out a breath and walks away. 

       “Mum’s the word!” you call after him.

                               ###

       The common room is empty aside from you, waiting anxiously in a chair for your boyfriend. You had texted him that you wanted to talk after school, and got a “K” in response. It was enough for you. The doors behind your chair slam open loudly and you take a deep breath before popping up and taking on a solemn face. 

       “What did you want to talk about?” Bakugou asks with pursed lips. His tone is sharp and impatient, but you’ve never heard it any differently. Sighing, you slowly approach him and bite your bottom lip, softening your eyes. 

       “I want to break up.” 

       Silence.

       Bakugou’s face doesn’t change. Not a single twitch in his body, or a widening of his eyes. He seems… unaffected.

       “No.” 

       No? No?! He just rejected your breakup, tackled it and slammed it down like a pro-wrestler before suffocating it with a pillow using one word. ‘No.’

       “Katsuki,” you lick your lips and he tenses at the action, “I just don’t think we’re working out-”

       “We exercise all the time, YN, I think we’re fine.” His voice is rough and guttural, and you notice his hands curling into fists. 

       “You know that’s not what I meant.” You drag your gaze back up to his face, giving him a pleading look and desperately trying to sell your prank.

       “I don’t care,” his jaw clenches and he narrows his vermilion eyes at you, “we’re fine.” The hiss makes you flinch as he stares you down threateningly. Oh shit, he’s fucking scary. 

       You were conflicted; you wanted to be agitated at the fact that he wouldn’t let you break up with him, even though you didn’t really want to end things with him, but you were also touched at the way he wasn’t willing to let you go. However, when his feet stomp loudly against the floor as he approaches you with dilated pupils, fear takes the lead in the race of your emotions. You stumble back at his sudden advancement.

       “Yeah, no, you’re totally right,” you hurriedly agree with him, nodding your head frantically, “I’m good, you’re good, it’s all good.” You give him finger guns and a cheesy smile but his expression never changes. You want to crawl into a hole and die just to avoid his intimidating gaze. 

       “So, um, I’m gonna go to my room now.” 

       “Okay.” With his approval of your release, you hightail it down the hall, barging into your dorm and slamming the door behind you before deflating against it. Hands pressed against your flushed cheeks, you trudge into the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. 

       “What the fuck was that?” you whisper to your reflection. It doesn’t respond, thankfully. The faucet pours cold water that you splash onto your burning face. The beating in your chest is racing so fast it hurts, and you press a hand harshly against it, feeling the swift buh-bumps under your fingertips. That, what had just happened down there, was indeed a failed prank. And now you knew for a fact you were stuck with him. It’s not like you minded that but shit, he was scary! Nope. Never again. No more pranks on Bakugou. 

                              ###

       That night, as you lie in bed beside him, he slowly rolls over to face you, gently dropping an arm over your waist. 

       “Did you really mean it?” he whispers. The room is too dark to spot any emotions on his face, but his words are hesitant. Gulping loudly, you rest a hand on his cheek and throw a leg over his hips. 

       “No, it was just supposed to be a dumb prank.” At your confession, he purses his lips and you start to trace random patterns on his face to ignore your growing blush, ashamed at your actions. 

       “You could’ve just dumped water on me or something,” he gruffly responds, hand pressing into the skin of your back firmly. 

       “Y-yeah, maybe I’ll try that next time.” You look away with a nod and clear your throat. 

       “Just,” he continued, eyes intently focused on the wall to avoid your gaze as well, “don’t ever do that again. I don’t think I could handle it.” Bakugou leans his head into your touch but doesn’t say another word. 

       If you didn’t know any better, or perhaps if you didn’t love him, you would have smirked or snickered, or maybe even pointed out how abnormally gentle he was in that moment. But you weren’t cruel, and you didn’t want to lose the warmth by your side at night. Or the grip around your body during the day. Or his comforting presence every living moment. He was it for you, and you seemed to be it for him. 

       A smile grows on your face at this realization and you run your thumb over his cheek adoringly. The corner of his mouth twitches before you press a kiss against his lips and tuck your face into his chest. 

       “I won’t leave you. Ever.” He smiles into your hair.

        “Good, ‘cause I’m not letting you go.” 

       Yeah, your prank kind of backfired. But hearing him say that made it all worth it.

Pspspsppspspspspspps hiii how have you been?? Bestie, drink water and stay safe and healthy <33

Also,,,, If it's alright to ask; I have been reading your reborn series and I liked it alot!! Is there any close date or sm where you are planning to post the new chapters? (Sorry I don't wanna sound rude)

You didn’t sound rude at all! I’ve been fine, and u better be drinking water too😤😤💜

Happy you like it, and I’m for sure thinking of updating it some time around the beginning of summer. No promises on any certain date, but the new chapters have definitely been planned🥳

idk what I’m doing but call me a duckling bc I be following all the ppl who use this format and it looked like fun

Soap who meets you, a medic for the Shadow Company, after he’s injured on the mission. Soap who’s dragged by Ghost up into the chopper, who you lean over and promise you’ll do your damn bestest to make sure he looks pretty by the end of this.

“Let me know if you see the light at any point, Sergeant MacTavish. That’s usually a bad sign.”

Soap who won’t stop looking you in the eyes as you work, mumbling to himself in such a thick accent you figure it’s best to ignore him, especially while finishing a suture on his chest that draws out an excessive groan.

Soap who flirts with you the entire time. Soap who’s ignorant to the gaping wound on his chest, and is much rather invested in the way your smell washes over him as you hover, ponytailed hair dangerously close to his hand. Soap who lets his head fall onto your shoulder on accident, Bonnie, so sorry, even as he sniffs for more of that shampoo and tang of sweat, because you’d been working so damn hard to keep little old him alive.

Soap who lets you wrap around him, pressing your hands against the wall and the cushion next to his thigh to get leverage to lean him up and off the cot.

Soap who clings a little too tightly to your shoulder as you lead him down and away, safely back to his base and into his CO’s protection.

“Thank you for not dying on me, John,” you say as you guide him back to Ghost.

Soap who watches you still, dazed little grin on his face even as Ghost grapples a hand at his shoulder——to hold him steady or hold him back, he’s not really sure.

Soap who wouldn’t mind staying with you, though. For a little longer.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” And he throws you a cheeky wink despite his sickly flush.

“Screwball,” you mutter fondly, waving a dismissive hand over your shoulder as you make your way back up the Shadow heli’s ramp.

Soap who grins as you go, eyeing your ass as he leans over to Ghost with a whispered, “What ‘oes screwball mean?”

“‘Fuck would I know, Johnny? Now let’s get a fuckin’ move on.”