Hey, I Don't Know If I Sent This Already (if I Did, I'm Sorry), But Do You Still Write For OPM?

Maid for Him (Oikawa x Reader/Slight Yandere)

*GIF not mine*

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

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

Word count: 1764

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

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

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

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

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

        It had been almost as delicious as you. 

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

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

        His bedroom. Nothing. 

        The dining room. Nothing. 

        The throne room. Nothing. 

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

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

        Just as he loved you. 

        So where the hell were you?

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

        “Please don’t.”

        Like right there.

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

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

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

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

        That would not be tolerated. 

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

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

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

        “I’ll show you a good time.”

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

        “Just let me-” 

        Slam!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        “I’m so sorry.”

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

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

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

        He couldn’t risk it.

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

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

                                ~~~

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

        “Your majesty-”

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

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

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

        “Kill him.”

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

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

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

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

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

bakugou reacting to his crush having those thirst tiktok (the ones where they just lip sync to a song and loon pretty HAHAHAH)

Bakugou’s Crush with a Thirst Trap TikTok (BNHA Headcanons)

*GIF not mine*

A/N: Ok, so I know you wanted this to be a lil thirsty, but you’re gonna have to bear with me when I say that this is a lot more thirsty than imagined. Honestly, I’ve been in a mood lately where 24/7 I’m like 🥵, so you just gotta take this and run, especially considering how late it is. Nonetheless, hope you like it! (Side note: asdfskdj thanks for 1.2k followers already! Y’all, I swear I’m boutta cry with this🥺)

Word count: 1653

B r u h

It’s like you’re trying to have this boy explode when you make this video.

Maybe you are.😏

Anyways, although Bakugou has a huge spankin’ crush on you, he doesn’t stalk you on your social media accounts. 

Nope, instead he sees your little video in school. 

“Bakugou! Bakugou!” He had just stepped into the classroom and already Kaminari was jabbering at him. 

What a pain in the ass.

The rest of the Bakusquad is hovering around his desk and has their eyes locked on his phone in his grip. “You gotta come see this!” the blond grins. 

“No, I don’t.”

Kaminari rolls his eyes and rises from his seat, shoving his phone into Bakugou’s hand and clicking on a video. “Uh yeah, you do.” 

Albeit reluctantly, he watches the video and-- oh.

Oh fuck.

It’s a TikTok of yours, but so much naughtier than what he’s seen. The first thing his eyes land on are your hips, moving in a tantalizing pattern and twisting them so slowly. Then they trail up your body, barely clothed in only a lace bra that outlines everything you had to offer and more. They move on towards your slim neck and up to your face, where your lips look plump, the bottom trapped between your teeth. That pink tongue of yours peeks out and swipes along the gloss covered lip you chew on so seductively, his gaze following the wet muscle with conviction.

Then his gaze lands on something that has him squirming in his seat-- your bedroom eyes. Heavy-lidded and already looking fucked into a daze, you smirk at the camera and lip sync to the particularly dirty song. Bakugou gulps at the sight. 

His pants are suddenly too tight, an excited part of himself straining against the fabric. 

He doesn’t even have the capacity to be pissed off that you made the video for any pair of eyes to see; right now, he’s rather stuck on how to hide the tent in his jeans that will no doubt rage till the end of class. 

“You’re such a goddamn perv,” Bakugou spits, thrusting the phone back into Kaminari’s hand. God, the only thing that could make this worse for him is if you were to-- oh heeeey, look who just joined the party.

Your entrance is instantly greeted with catcalls and wolf whistles, each one making Bakugou grit his teeth harder and harder together. 

“WOOHOO, YN,” Kaminari pipes up from beside him, “nice video.” 

In traditional YN fashion, Bakugou expects you to lob your backpack right into his smug face, but instead, you shock him by letting out a snicker. 

“Just for you, my friend,” you snigger, flipping him off with both hands. 

What the hell does that mean?

All through class, Bakugou is forced to sit at his desk with his backpack over his lap, but he can’t help letting his gaze draw to you from time to time. He had only been caught a handful of times, but each time you only glanced away just as quick. 

“Just for you, my friend.”

“Just for you.”

“Just for you.”

The words echo in Bakugou’s mind, making his fists curl and curl until his fingernails almost draw blood in his palms. He’s put out of his misery when the bell rings, and he blasts out of class sooner than Aizawa can dismiss him. 

In his dorm, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about you. The way you moved, the way you looked, that glint in your eyes. But was it all for Kaminari?

The thought makes his hands tingle with sparks, but deep down, his stomach churns nastily. Was that perv the guy you were thinking of when you made that?

What kind of a sick power play was it for the creep to show it to him anyways?!

Pacing back and forth, Bakugou digs his hands into his hair and growls. 

“FUCK!”

The only times he had seen you that way were in his room, in his brain, while he sat on his bed and grunted your name deeply, dealing with his bodily desires. 

God, how could you post something like that?

The phone on his nightstand was practically calling his name, begging him to open the app and watch you. The memory just wasn’t enough at this point.

Five, six, seven times he’d watched it now. Eight, nine… oops, there had been a miscount. He must’ve watched your video at least forty times by now, each one riling him up more than the last. 

“Fucking hell,” he hissed for the fifth time, biting into his lip viciously to keep back a groan. Why did you have to do this to him?

Even more, why did you have to make this for Kaminari?

Shit, it must’ve been midnight by now. He couldn’t even calm himself down with a cold shower, exiting the bathrooms just as excited as he’d entered. His hair dripped water that slid down his bare upper body, trailing lower and lower until it soaked into the cotton surrounding the skin below his v-line. Rifling a hand through the blond locks, he fluffed them up to their original form, still damp, but in place.

And when he travels back to his dorm, his crimson gaze slowly gazes over to yours, just a door over. Aside from the towel, his hand only clutches his phone, and once again, your TikTok flashes through his thoughts. 

Ever so hesitantly, his tongue darts over his lips, wetting them swiftly. Seriously, what the hell was that video?! Why would you post something like that?

Aside from Kaminari’s benefit, according to you.

And with those words, his fist bangs against your door, uncaring that the sun was long gone and lights were supposed to be out hours ago. He just needed to know.

You, on the other hand, were pissed. You whip open your door with burning eyes, having just been woken up at exactly 1:07 am. 

“What in the everloving fuck do you need?” It doesn’t cross your mind that it’s the exact person you had been waiting for to come to your room for hours; you’re just enraged at any dumbass who’s woken you up from a rather pleasant dream. 

Not a word is said before a phone is shoved into your face, showing last night’s thirst trap TikTok courtesy of you.

“What is this?” Bakugou interrogates, eyes aglow beyond the screen. 

Oh, you gotta be kidding me. He’s doing this now?!

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you shrug and gesture to the phone. “Well, ya know Bakugou, I think they’re calling it a ‘thirst trap’ nowadays-”

“No, YN,” he interrupts, pushing into your room. Instinctively, you step back, even though you and your body are in agreement that you want him closer. “What the hell is this?”

There’s no doubt that the glint in his eyes is possessive, especially after he slams your door shut with his foot. 

“Bakugou, c’mon, it’s past midnight. I need to go to-”

He chucks his phone to the side with a snarl and snags your hips, forcing you backwards until your knees buckle against your bed. You fall back with a gasp before Bakugou falls after you, his knees immediately assuming a position to straddle your thighs. 

“YN,” he grounds out, hands now pressed on either side of your head, “who did you make that for?” It was the million dollar question, and evidently Bakugou was going for big money. 

Of course, you want this to happen right now. God, you’ve waited months for this guy to finally display that he returned your feelings. But now, slightly peeved and a little playful at his jealousy without a cause, you wanted to have some fun.

“Who do you think, Bakugou?” Eyebrow raised, you let your tongue slide over your lower lip, smirking when he rushes to watch the action. 

“Don’t fuck around, YN.” A rough finger brushes a strand of hair away from your face, but little did you know, it was a distraction technique. Before you can tease him again, both of your wrists are trapped above your head, completely immovable in his iron grip. “Who the fuck was the video for?” 

There was a little uncertainty flickering in Bakugou’s eyes. You realized with shock that part of him was unsure about all of this. Part of him was legitimately concerned you didn’t actually want this. 

Don’t worry, you would qualm all his fears, especially after he slid a knee between your thighs and pressed against a sensitive area that left you a whining mess. “You, Katsuki!”

Instantly, all hesitation flees his body as he grips your wrists tighter, dropping his forehead to yours and capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. 

“Hell yeah it was. Now let me show you what bad girls get for showing off what’s mine.”

Safe to say, Bakugou had to help you walk to class the next day, but it was totally worth it.

You would never admit it to his face, but Kaminari’s plan was genius. Posting a thirst TikTok was the perfect way to force Bakugou into confessing. 

You just wish the dark marks covering your skin weren’t so obvious, especially the one right on the underside of your jaw. No amount of makeup would cover his hickeys, but don’t worry, you would learn that over time.

if the taglist for reborn is still open could i please be added? i love it sm <3

I’m glad you like it🥰🥰 the taglist is still open and you’ll def be tagged in the next part🤩

Your fic is so damn good!!! It is made my dayyy~ Thank youu really 🥺🥺❤❤❤

im not sure which fic ur talking about, but either way im glad u enjoyed it!!

No context just oreo. <33

Oop😳

Oreos really do make the best pets tho😌😌

Ps he’s laying on my stomach rn sos I can’t breathe

I Wanna Build a Snowman (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Oikawa just wants to build a snowman on one of the coldest days of the year with his beloved girlfriend. What could go wrong?

A/N: Major fluff. Like...that’s it. That’s the warning. We’ve been getting assloads of snow where I am so I figured why not. Hope you like this domestic fluff!

Word count: 2264

        Something cold, soft and insistent hits you in the face. 

        “YN!... YNNNN!” Oikawa keeps whisper-yelling your name and patting the side of your cheek until you finally gather the energy to crack open an eyelid. 

        “Tooru,” you yawn, moving to sit up and rub the sleep from your blurred gaze, “whyyy?” The lights of yours and Oikawa’s bedroom are still off but the open curtains of your floor length window allow the white brightness flooding the space to blind you. 

        Huh, looks like the blizzard warning wasn’t a joke.

        The light zaps every ounce of energy right out of you as you struggle to stay conscious and you give in, flopping back despite Oikawa’s whines. 

        “No, no! YN, come on, let’s go outside!”

        “Are you insane?” you mumble into your pillow, rolling over only to be flipped right back.

        “Neither of us have any type of clothes equipped for that kind of weather. Just go back to sleep- oof.”

        A piece of clothing, pants by the feel of the starchy exterior, thwaps you in the face and incites enough anger inside you to wake you for revenge and nothing more. 

        “That’s why I bought those last night while I was out!” The bed shifts as Oikawa rises from the bed, giving you a show of skin as he strips off his night clothes and dresses in the newly purchased snow pants and boots. 

        “I swear to God if you don’t let me go back to sleep I’m to suffocate you with my pillow before sleeping on top of both of you.”

        “Well that’s vivid.”

        “It’s also very desirable right now.”

        Oikawa pouts, zipping up a puffy jacket to his chin before shoving a beanie on his head and dropping back onto the bed next to you. “Come on, YN! I wanna build a snowman!”

        “I swear to God if you start singing-”

        “Do you wanna build a snowm-mmphf!”

        A pillow thwaps Oikawa in the face and you drop back to the bed with a groan. “Fineeee, so long as you shut up and don’t ever sing that song again, I will go outside and build a snowman with you.”

        “Oh come on, it’s tradition!”

                                ~~~

        Okay, so maybe you weren’t a morning person and perhaps Oikawa had been right. Though the weather may as well have left you feeling stranded naked in the Arctic, passing up the opportunity to build a snowman with your boyfriend on one of the few days both of you had off together would have been a terrible decision. 

        Feeling like a toddler wrapped in twenty-ply toilet paper, you stumbled down the stairs of the complex and out into the freezing cold of nature. The snow pants and boots Oikawa bought for you sagged just a tad on your hips and you had to constantly readjust them with one gloved hand while the other held firmly onto your boyfriend’s as he led you out into the open space between the building and the parking lot. 

        Snow still fell in small bundles, settling into your hair and onto Oikawa’s hat, slowly and surely soaking in and freezing all at the same time. The sky was a chilled gray, the sun a distant glowing orb in the sky that could never overpower the precipitating clouds that laid claim on the sky. A wind brushed the stray hairs from your face and bit at your cheeks, bringing with more flakes that settled onto the tips of your lashes effortlessly. 

        Every footprint you and a grinning Oikawa left behind revealed there was a solid nine inches of snow that crushed the dark green grass underneath. A laugh left your companion as he tugged you farther along, barging through the piles of white that seemed reluctant to move. 

        “Okay,” Oikawa declared, turning back to you with a pink nose and cheeks as his breaths left puffs in the air. “What should we do first?”

        The childlike glimmer of excitement in your eyes made the smile on your face grow full-fledged. Then a devious thought came to your mind. “Well,” you tapped your chin in faux deliberation, pulling your hand out of his to set it on your hip, “I suppose we could…”

        Without another word, you pressed both hands on Oikawa’s chest and pushed as hard as possible, letting out a laugh at the split-second betrayed look on his face before his black-coated form disappeared in a cloud of snow. 

        It took him a second to recover as you went into hysterics, folding your arms around your stomach as you guffawed. Oikawa propped himself up on his elbows and blew a hair out of his face with a pout. 

        “You’re gonna pay for that.”

        And before you knew it, your open-mouthed laughter was interrupted with a choke as snow met your tongue and teeth. 

        Small clumps of flakes stuck to your forehead and chin as you gasped, trying to wipe away the cold in vain as Oikawa rose from the ground, two more snowballs already rounded off in his hands. 

        “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Tooru,” you warned, stepping back and keeping watchful eyes on both of his armed hands.

        “Oh, come on, babe.” Oikawa grinned a sly grin that told you you had awoken a beast. “You know I can’t let you off the hook after that.”

        And the battle commenced. 

        Somehow even in the freezing cold you were working up a sweat, ducking and dodging as many snowballs as you could while firing off your own. 

        Sometimes you would hit Oikawa in his long legs as he dove away from a throw and sometimes he would hit you back in the arms or chest while you hurried to build a fort to protect yourself. At a certain point, both of you had built fortresses that were each a solid three feet high. Oikawa had gone for the simple-yet-classic snow wall tactic while you crafted a small barrier as long as your wingspan that surrounded your front and sides, packing snow on top of solidifying snow while Oikawa occasionally knocked off a solid chunk that required you to handle damage control. 

        Your teeth began to instinctively chatter as the snow that hit your face melted off and slid down your jacket, soaking into Oikawa’s t-shirt underneath. Every so often you would have to tug your gloves back down after they slid up during your construction efforts, allowing cold clumps to stick to your skin and leave patches of irritated red in their wake. 

        But you were distracted for just a second too long playing defense and that was all Oikawa needed. 

        A shadow fell over your work as you began to carve a makeshift window in your fort, punching a hand through the thick wall of snow in order to keep an eye on your enemy as you worked--however, such efforts seemed futile as you slowly turned around to see a towering Oikawa with two armfuls of snow prepped and angled right over your head. 

        You had been too focused on your own shaky breaths and mutters that you haven’t even heard him army crawling behind you and gathering up an avalanche to bury you under. 

        “Oh shi-” flumph.

        Oikawa tipped his head back and released a maniacal laugh as snow piled in your lap and atop your head, making you look like the snowman he’d wanted to build this morning. 

        “Looks like I’ve won this war, YN,” he nodded to himself, dusting off his white-sprinkled blue pants and puffy jacket. “Though, to be fair, it was well fought. You must’ve just gotten too distracted by your opponent’s dazzling looks to notice he’d already trapped you in a corner, and nobody can blame you. I guess I’m just too-AGH!”

        In two seconds you went from partial abominable snowman on the frozen ground to tackling Oikawa to the ground and straddling his chest, dropping two handfuls of snow into his face as he screeched. 

        “What were you saying about victory, Tooru?” you sniggered, stealing the hat right off his head and pressing it onto your own. “Distracted opponent and whatnot? Kinda makes me wonder who really won this…”

        Oikawa coughed up a snowball as you used all your weight to roll off him and settle onto the floor next to him, just far enough away that you could spread your arms up over your head and down back to your side. Just as you worked to spread your legs and arms in synchronization to complete your snow angel, two folded arms dropped onto your stomach before a head plopped on top relaxedly, forcing a large cloud of air out of your mouth. 

        “I don’t know, babe,” Oikawa mumbled, adjusting right on top of you so he could lean over and draw patterns into the snow with a single finger right next to your other side. Each time he shifted, a bony elbow dug even harder into your stomach, forcing noises out of your mouth no different from the choking sounds of a floundering seal. “I really think we could call it a tie right here.” 

        With one dazzling smile sent your way, Oikawa moved so he was laying entirely on top of you, legs tangling with yours and all before he moved to straddle your hips. “Never,” you choked out, helplessly wiggling underneath him. “Ugh, get off me fatass.”

        “Hey! I’ve been watching my weight before the season!” He pressed a finger to your forehead after dodging every hand you tried to bat him away with. “I’ll have you know this is all muscle, but I don’t believe you need such proof after last night.”

        You gagged at the eyebrows he waggled at you before mustering enough energy to roll onto your stomach right underneath him and army crawl out, finally free from his weight. “Don’t be such a perv.” You rolled your eyes, standing up and staring down at him with your arms akimbo. 

        Oikawa’s lips curled up into a smirk as he rose to his feet, approaching you with eyes narrowed enough to have you waiting for his next words. “You know, you weren’t this shy last night either.”

        “Shut up!” You blamed the pink tint of your cheeks on the cold and smacked his arm, spinning away when he yelped in surprise. 

        “Hey!” When you kept your back to him, he huffed out a sigh and made his way closer to you, so close his entire body was pressed against you. Two arms slithered around your waist and a freezing nose traced a path up along the side of your exposed throat. 

        When you relaxed into his hold and leaned your head away to allow him more room to tease, Oikawa hummed in thought and pressed a kiss to the skin, hands tightening on your hips. 

        “Let’s go back inside, baby,” he murmured, peppering more and more pecks along your skin until he had enough of the back-to-front issue and spun you around, pressing his forehead against yours. Both of your puffs of air now mingled together as he spoke, his brown eyes trailing from your warm gaze to your red cheeks to the plump lips your tongue just couldn’t seem to leave alone. “We need to do something to… warm up.”

        The innocence that fell over your face, no matter how fake, made his jaw clench and his body grow still. 

        “But I thought you wanted to build a snowman?”

                                ~~~

        You shivered under the mounds of blankets on the bed, wearing nothing but the soaked hat on your head as Oikawa entered the room with only a sheet covering his bare form. Two steaming cups of hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows were held in his hands, one of which he held out to you after shutting the door to the bedroom and dimming the lights. 

        The sun outside was long gone, instead leaving the moon to shine and reflect off the layers of snow that you and Oikawa had ruffled up hours earlier. 

        You accepted the mug with a soft smile and scooted over, making room as Oikawa shrugged off the blanket completely, leaving himself uncovered to the cold still circling in the room. 

        “As much as I like your staring, YN, a wolf whistle is always appreciated every now and then.” 

        You only wiggled your brows and blew a kiss at him over your mug, giggling when he gawked and muttered “Perv” under his breath. 

        Oikawa wasted no time grabbing his own mug off the nightstand, settling in beside you with an arm wrapped around your hips to keep you curled into his side. As the movie began, he let out a long sigh and pressed two marshmallow-flavored lips to your forehead, grinning when you nuzzled in closer. 

        “Ugh, Frozen? Really?”

        “Shhh,” Oikawa whispered. “You’re gonna miss the song.” You could only roll your eyes and lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and soft humming to the music. 

        And as “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman” faintly played through the shining window of your apartment, two snowmen sitting just outside with pebbles for eyes and carrots for noses froze and solidified under the light of the stars, their makeshift twig arms still holding hands.

CHARACTER FACIAL EXPRESSIONS (WRITING REFERENCE)

EYES/BROWS

his eyes widened

her eyes went round

her eyelids drooped

his eyes narrowed

his eyes lit up

his eyes darted

he squinted

she blinked

her eyes twinkled

his eyes gleamed

her eyes sparkled

his eyes flashed

his eyes glinted

his eyes burned with…

her eyes blazed with…

her eyes sparked with…

her eyes flickered with…

_____ glowed in his eyes

the corners of his eyes crinkled

she rolled her eyes

he looked heavenward

she glanced up to the ceiling

she winked

tears filled her eyes

his eyes welled up

her eyes swam with tears

his eyes flooded with tears

her eyes were wet

his eyes glistened

tears shimmered in her eyes

tears shone in his eyes

her eyes were glossy

he was fighting back tears

tears ran down her cheeks

his eyes closed

she squeezed her eyes shut

he shut his eyes

his lashes fluttered

she batted her lashes

his brows knitted

her forehead creased

his forehead furrowed

her forehead puckered

a line appeared between her brows

his brows drew together

her brows snapped together

his eyebrows rose

she raised a brow

he lifted an eyebrow

his eyebrows waggled

she gave him a once-over

he sized her up

her eyes bored into him

she took in the sight of…

he glared

she peered

he gazed

she glanced

he stared

she scrutinized

he studied

she gaped

he observed

she surveyed

he gawked

he leered

his pupils (were) dilated

her pupils were huge

his pupils flared

NOSE

her nose crinkled

his nose wrinkled

she sneered

his nostrils flared

she stuck her nose in the air

he sniffed

she sniffled

MOUTH

she smiled

he smirked

she grinned

he simpered

she beamed

her mouth curved into a smile

the corners of his mouth turned up

the corner of her mouth quirked up

a corner of his mouth lifted

his mouth twitched

he gave a half-smile

she gave a lopsided grin

his mouth twisted

he plastered a smile on his face

she forced a smile

he faked a smile

her smile faded

his smile slipped

he pursed his lips

she pouted

his mouth snapped shut

her mouth set in a hard line

he pressed his lips together

she bit her lip

he drew his lower lip between his teeth

she nibbled on her bottom lip

he chewed on his bottom lip

his jaw set

her jaw clenched

his jaw tightened

a muscle in her jaw twitched

he ground his jaw

he snarled/his lips drew back in a snarl

her mouth fell open

his jaw dropped

her jaw went slack

he gritted his teeth

she gnashed her teeth

her lower lip trembled

his lower lip quivered

SKIN

she paled

he blanched

she went white

the color drained out of his face

his face reddened

her cheeks turned pink

his face flushed

she blushed

he turned red

she turned scarlet

he turned crimson

a flush crept up her face

WHOLE FACE, ETC.

he screwed up his face

she scrunched up her face

he grimaced

she winced

she gave him a dirty look

he frowned

she scowled

he glowered

her whole face lit up

she brightened

his face went blank

her face contorted

his face twisted

her expression closed up

his expression dulled

her expression hardened

she went poker-faced

a vein popped out in his neck

awe transformed his face

fear crossed her face

sadness clouded his features

terror overtook his face

recognition dawned on her face

SOURCE

I know everyone is saying this, but I really do love Reborn, and I hope u continue it soon! Hope ur doing well!

ahhh goodness yeah looking back especially now at my writing in reborn im rly struggling with how to continue it like my portrayal of the reader was so cringey pls just let her die in ur mind omg

and that sucks cuz i have like a 3000 word note chock full of future chapter ideas but i just dont know how i could ever continue without rewriting the whoel thing. what truly sucks tho is that hq fandom is dying now that the manga has ended so not many people care much for the story anyway, and why put so much effort into something no one will care for, u know, especially when it's something you partially regret.

even so, im glad you have enjoyed the story, anon. maybe one day i shall continue it, perhaps with new characters or smth, but for now the story shall patiently wait for its day in the sun

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.”