Hello! I Read Your Reborn Series And I'm In Love With It, The Plot And Story Is Just Immaculate. If It

It would be interesting to see Osamu try to turn his life back around, come to terms with Atsumu's death and be his own person again. BUT!!! Please don't feel pressured to write a part 2 if you don't feel like it/don't want too 🥺 I was just genuinely curious if a part 2 was possible so I sent an ask. You're already giving us so much amazing content and I don't want you to burn yourself out and do any request that you don't like 🥺❣

Thank you, your words mean a lot more than you know🙏 And I’m thankful I’m surrounded by such kind people like you on here💜💜

I’ll definitely consider making a part 2 for Lapse in Judgement, as I’m also kind of interested in where I could take Osamu’s character without Atsumu by his side. The idea has definitely been noted :)

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

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

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

We’re not gonna talk about how I wrote this instead of finishing part two of what’s in a virtue. We’re not even gonna talk about what this is. I’m just gonna… yeah, here ya go.

!Trigger warnings: dubcon

Body swap au with soap who just wakes up one day and says, “no fuckin’ way.”

Soap who thinks it’s the best fuckin’ dream he’s ever had.

Soap who solemnly agrees with you in the mornings that yes, the two of you do need to work together to fix this as soon as possible, but who spends his nights in front of a mirror stripped down to nothing, masturbating because it’s fucking you, and you’re so pretty when you’re panting. Soap who was always convinced that making you come would feel just as good as coming himself, and now he doesn’t have to figure that out anymore.

Soap who, fuck, has his cake and eats it, too.

Soap who grins so proud at the awkward way you stumble around in his body, too big for you. Soap who, after discovering you’d had to——ahem——relieve yourself for the first time, feels his skin fucking buzz at the fact that you can’t meet his eyes, your eyes, anymore without a schoolboy blush spreading across his own damn face.

Soap who knows you liked what you saw.

Soap who makes your body come again that night, not even thinking of your body anymore, but of your mind fumbling around in his body, experimenting with touches and caresses. Soap who imagines you knowing how to pleasure him inside and out when this is all over.

Soap who records the sound of your voice saying his name, because the lines are getting so damn blurry, and emails the video to himself. Takes pictures, too.

Would never blackmail you with them, no, no, no.

But he deletes them from your phone after sending them all to his drive.

Soap who, after everything is over, after you’ve both found your ways into your own bodies, trots after you like the dog he is wherever you go.

Soap who, after you check the deleted folder of your photos app, gets a good and proper scolding.

Soap who managed to record the entire reprimand, listening to the anger in your voice, the how dare you do that to me——to my body?! That’s so fucked up, Soap!

Soap who rewards himself yet again that night, teeth gnawing at the hem of his shirt that he hadn’t bothered taking off, just pulling up high enough to jack himself off with his back against his front door. Panting at the dash he’d made up his flat’s stairs, then panting your name, whimpering disingenuous apologies to your chiding voice.

Soap who doesn’t stop, who won’t stop until he’s got the real you screaming his name.

Your writing is amazing. You clearly have a talent and im glad i get to see it!!

Oh thank you so much!! This comment makes me really happy, so I’m glad I get to see your writing too lol 🥰💜

hi um so two of my fav writers on this platform literally reblogged another of these drabbles as i was writing this one so?? I'm buggin.

It’s the long-drawn snapping of neurons that prickle at you, eyes closed and forearm thrown over your face. A slow peel of eyelid after eyelid, foggy thoughts wisping away at a moment’s notice in the blackness of the bedroom; the ceiling is more a theory of shapes inferred from moon-coerced shadows than its usual cragginess, and you unhook your arm from the dip between your nose and forehead to reach up. Comb your fingertips through the air. 

Was it the breeze through your ever-closed window? Open now, a new development, but surely one that would rouse you like a bear from slumber. You feel large enough to be a bear, warm enough to feel tarped in fur, lethargic enough to clamber off your mattress and land on all fours and grunt like an animal. 

Maybe it was the slice of light underneath your bedroom door. You never forget to turn off the switches in your living room, the LED bulbs too glowy and insistent to sleep the way you do, curled up on one side and facing the doorway. 

Or maybe it’s because you’re not sleeping the way you always do. Not at the moment. Right now, you’re tipped onto your back, each limb swallowed up by an inch of cushion, flat like a slab of carbonite. Your body and the bed are inseparable—each pore on your skin is looped through with a stitch that dips into the sheets, rises back out and finishes with a double knot. 

All you can do is lay there. Willingly, you suppose, despite the spasms. 

A new ozone layer has settled around you, consistency of molasses, and hot to inhale. It stinks of past activity, like breaths that have been used up and tossed out. All of it cloys against your skin, maintaining a sheen of sweat to add to the discomfort. 

You’re awake now, though. 

Unhappy, but no longer unconscious. A bit bitter that you’re all alone. 

But a sharp trill pierces the air, and it hits you—that’s it.

That’s what had awoken you. 

Roused this grumpy, sticky, sore form of you that’s polyfoam-bound, torn too quick from a fundamental repose period. You’re too exhausted to moan, gripe, curse like you should. 

Even as the lights under the door flicker out, and something pushes it’s way inside with various scuffling movements. The room returns to stagnancy with a soft click, save for the lone gust of wind invading and receding at an unsteady tempo. 

Your next breath is a roiling mix of oxygen saturated with sodium and garlic. You hum aloud, a vague attempt to dissuade the bile crawling up your throat. Each time your tongue scrapes past your teeth, the morning grime collects and taints your tastebuds. 

You need water, and a toothbrush, and two tablespoons of toothpaste. Five minutes for an alcoholic rinse, too. 

Definitely don’t need the robust wafting of a pepperoni Hot Pocket up your nostrils at the ass-crack of dawn, as the mattress dips with a bulky outline. 

“Sorry, Bonnie,” a Scottish voice that is not apologetic in the slightest mumbles beside you. “Didnae mean to wake ye. Fuckin’ makes me ’bit peckish.”

Child’s Play (Yandere Garou x Reader) (NSFW)*Request*

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Getting you to fall in love with Garou was like child’s play. Now, he just needed to give you a reason to stay by his side. 

A/N: Anon 1, your English was great, and thank you so much! Anon 2, I can’t stop thinking about it either tbh😳. I decided to mix these two together because, seriously, who doesn’t love yandere Garou with a breeding kink? That’s a deadly combination. Anyways, sorry this took a little while to get out, but I hope y’all like it!

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, dirtyyyy talk, overstimulation, slight?cum play, dubious consent maybe?? (not really but he’s yandere so who knows)

Word count: 3143

        You were already asleep when Garou came home, snoring and drooling on his side of the bed. 

        Blood caked underneath his fingertips and dotted his face, so he didn’t bother waking you. Instead, he chose to watch from your bathroom sink as you slept, washing away the metallic substance with a soft smile. 

        When he deemed himself clean enough, he settled himself on the side of the bed and stroked your face. He cooed when you nestled further into his palm. 

        Garou had loved you for years, and only just recently had he gotten you. You were so innocent at the time, too, not even knowing that he was the Human Monster roaming the streets at night. A simple first date, flowers, and a kiss at midnight, and all that waiting had been worth it. 

        You finally wanted him too.

        The first time you had let him into your bed was when he truly never wanted to let you go. You were pure. His pure little Angel, only for him to corrupt. 

        “YN.” And tonight, he wanted to make that corruption permanent. 

        “Nuh-uh.” Your eyes didn’t even open when you hummed a response, instead clenching closed harder in hopes to preserve your sleep. 

        Garou shook his head and chuckled. Not tonight, Angel. “YN, wake up.” Tonight, he needed you.

        “I don’t wanna,” you whined, furrowing further into the covers. You let out a screech when they were pulled away from you, exposing you to the crisp night air all-too suddenly. 

        As if the shock to your system wasn’t enough, Garou slammed his lips on yours in a desperation you knew wouldn’t have him backing down anytime soon. Moaning in response, you struggled to keep up with his needy pace, not even bothering to fight his tongue for dominance. 

        The moment he pulled away, you sucked in air hungrily, opening your eyes just a sliver to find Garou’s in the dead of night. 

        “You awake yet?” Judging by the look in his eyes, you knew your response wouldn’t change his mind. This was happening right now whether you were ready or not. 

        Luckily for Garou, his Angel was all too willing. 

        “What the hell got you so excited?” You muffle a yawn before helping him out of his long sleeve. The second he was shirtless, you were zapped awake with a spark zipping down to your core. Garou shirtless was a sight to behold; after years of training to perfect his body, you couldn’t deny that it had paid off. Shoulders, biceps, abs, everything bulged, and everything was yours to touch. 

        Just like you were his.

        In a spectacular display of reciprocity, Garou ripped your sleeping shirt-- or rather, his-- in half, tossing the tattered cotton aside and leaving you only in your plain jane underwear you had worn to bed. Unsurprisingly, Garou still thought you were wearing too much. 

        “Don’t.” He tore your hands away from your chest, leaving you bare to the freezing air that had your skin tightening. 

        Many times over had you been naked for Garou, and each time he watched you with nothing but desire floating in his pupils. It was no different now, but you couldn’t help but feel overexposed, especially after just waking up. 

        “Garou, it’s- I’m cold.”

        He smirked in response, hands pushing you on your back and tugging apart your legs before he slid himself between them. “Then let me warm you up, Angel.”

        His pupils were blown wide, consuming every inch of gold left as he pressed his apparent erection against you. The friction was delicious, but not enough. You wanted more, more, more, so your hips jolted up to meet his, hands seeking out his waist to pull him closer. 

        “Fuck,” Garou hissed, head dropping to the sheets beside you as he ground into your clothed warmth. A hand slipped down your body, pushing away your panties to rub circles into your clit. 

        “Mmmm!” Your movements turned frantic as you rolled your pelvis against his fingers, searching for more pleasure, more release, more anything.

        Garou listened to your moans eagerly, loving the noises you gave off as he provided you with his touch. It almost distracted him from what he was really there for-- almost.

        “Nhhh,” you huffed when your dripping core was suddenly uncovered, walls clenching at the instant cold that brushed them. Garou wormed his way out of your grip to rid you and himself of the last layers dividing you, tearing the clothing away like it would burn him at any second. 

        When he returned, he didn’t situate himself in the same spot, instead settling on his knees between your legs. Nothing happened for a solid minute as you fell from your high while waiting for him to do something, anything. You lifted your head to ask, but the question slipped from your lips when you saw him. 

        Ogling. That was the only way to describe the way Garou stared at your glistening core. He looked like a man starved as his hands hovered over the area, wondering where to start first. 

        “Garo- oh SHIT!” Two fingers plunged into you the second you opened your mouth, the act followed by a thumb latching to your clit. 

        “Yeah, YN? Need something?” he teased with a crooked smile. You slammed your head back against the mattress the second your back arched, sparks flying behind your eyelids as you humped against his hand. 

        It was too much, his thumb on your bud rubbing too fast and hard that you searched blindly for the offender. In the darkness of the room, you managed to latch onto his wrist and keep him still while you panted, hips still involuntarily rolling at the pleasure. 

        “Really? That’s all it took, Angel?” Garou ripped his fingers away from your heat without warning, leaving you unbearably empty. “You better be able to handle more than that tonight. Or maybe it’s been too long, hmm?”

        Shifting on the bed, Garou rose onto his knees and wrapped your thighs around his waist. One hand grabbed at your breast, massaging the mound while the other positioned his length at your slit. A deadly grin encompassed his face as he leered down at you, rubbing against you almost patronizingly. 

        “Is that it, Angel? Has it been too long for you? Do you want me to take it slow?” Even though his voice was husky from holding back grunts, it was surprisingly steady as he tortured you, rubbing his tip up and down your heat to gather a collection of wetness you provided with ease. 

        “No-o,” you choked out, thighs trying to press him closer. Of course, you had no chance compared to his own strength, but it was worth a shot. “I need you bad, Garou.”

        “Really?” 

        “Yesss.”

        “Good, Angel,” he finally pressed his head past your folds, breaching the area that needed him most. Then he leaned down to lay a kiss ever-so sweetly on your forehead.

        “Because I’m gonna fill you up until you can’t take anymore.”

        His length bottomed out in you before you could even ask, leaving you to almost gag on your own spit in shock. 

        “FUCK!” you cried out, digging your nails into his toned back just to hold on. 

        Garou was rough, almost springing tears from your eyes at the bruising pace he had started with. Slapping sounds combined with the squelching of your juices overflowing filled the room, outshining your moans and his grunts. 

        Two fingers pinched your nipple without warning, drawing a squeal from your lips that Garou swallowed with a kiss. 

        “Shit, you're so tight,” he grits out, pulling away from your mouth to sit tall and pound into you from above. The hand just inches away from your aching bud moves away at the last second, instead slipping under your thigh to hold you in place. 

        “Please, please, please,” you mumble, palms pressing against his chest with all the force you could muster. 

        It’s too fast, it’s too much. He’s stuffed inside you completely, filling you up so tight you feel like you’ll split in half. Garou’s size always required some time to adjust, but he had been in too much of a hurry tonight. 

        “Nuh-uh, Angel. You wanted it. Now take it like a good girl.” 

        The next time you try to open your mouth again, Garou pulls out of you completely, leaving you moaning and clenching around nothing. 

        “You still want me to fill you up?” His brow raises expectantly, but when you only nod, a punishing hand slams against the flesh of your backside. “Use your words.”

        “Please Garou!” you whine, “Please just fill me up!” 

        He nods approvingly, but before you know it, you're being flipped onto your stomach. Large, rough hands reposition your hips up onto your knees before one reaches up to press your face into the sheets. The other presses on the small of your back, leaving you in an arch that spreads your cheeks perfectly. 

        “Oh I will, Angel. You’re gonna take every drop I give you like a good girl, right?”

        “Yes!”

        “Good.” A hand comes down on your behind as a reward for your compliance, reddening and burning the flesh just right. 

        The new angle Garou has as he slips inside has him pressed right up against that perfect spot inside you. Your slick makes it easy for him to re-enter you, his member nudging deeper and deeper past your fluttering walls until he’s finally buried to the hilt. The pace he begins with is much slower this time, torturously taking his time to push into your heat before leisurely pulling out again, repeating and repeating the same pattern that makes you want to scream.

        This was what you wanted ten minutes ago when he first entered you. Slow and careful, no pain to battle the pleasure. You were much too far past giving a shit whether it hurt now. He could rearrange your guts for all you cared-- you just wanted him to fucking move. 

        “Garou, please!”

        “Aww, but I’m having so much fun with this, Angel.” Ten fingernails dig into your hips almost hard enough to draw blood. “But I guess I could give it to you just this once.” 

        The thrust is so damn hard not only does your back immediately arch the other way, but the entire bed frame moves, slamming into the wall hard enough to almost crack it. 

        “OH FUCK!” you scream into the mattress, head growing foggy at the brutal pace Garou has now set with his hips.

        A hand presses into your back once more, leaving it to bend the other way once again to display yourself to Garou. Electricity lights up every nerve in your body, leading you to mumble mindlessly against the blankets as he drives into you from behind.

        Cruel, bruising, and yet so deliciously euphoric. Each time Garou rams into you from the new angle, the tip of his length bumps into your g-spot, sending your fingers flying and grasping for anything to hold as you sob in pleasure. Yet, unlike you, Garou knows exactly where to place his hands. 

        “Look at your greedy little pussy,” he snickers, burying a hand into your scalp and yanking your head back. The pull burns, but it tightens the coil in your chest that you know is going to explode any second. “Shit, every time I pull out, Angel, you suck me right back in.”

        “Hmmm-ngh.” Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you’re not even sure why you bother moving your hips to match his pace; he’s going too fast, pounding into you too hard that when you do push back against him, you know you’re only setting yourself up for some nasty bruises later.

        “Do you want me to fill you up? You wanna feel my cum, Angel?”

        “Mm fuck yes! Don’t stop, Garou!”

        “I don’t plan to.”

        You can feel your own slick gushing down your thighs and soaking into the sheets below. The wetness only grows worse when Garou digs a finger back into your clit, pressing against the bud harsh enough to have you scrambling away from the excruciating contact. 

        Circles, quick and powerful, shove your nub around brutally, pushing it back and forth enough to have tears spring from your eyes. When Garou pinches the sensitive bundle of nerves, it’s all over.

        “Garou, I’m cumming!”

        “Go ahead, Angel. I’m not stopping you.” 

        Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as the bubble finally pops. Your thighs quiver and your core clenches around his length each time it drives back into you, but your juices almost push him out completely. Like a waterfall, they overflow from your hole down your twitching, aching flesh, utterly ruining the blankets you ache to collapse against.

        Instead, Garou doesn’t stop for a second. While your entire body feels spent and worn, he continues to thrust back into you, an action done easily thanks to the complete slickness provided by your release. Not even his fingers have moved from your clit, still rubbing patterns until it feels like it’s on fire. 

        “Garou, stop, stop, it’s too much,” you whimper breathlessly, trying to crawl away only to be pulled right back. 

        “We’re not finished here, Angel. Not until I see this naughty little hole,” he drives back into it for emphasis, “overflowing with my cum. I’m gonna fill you up, baby.”

        After enough pleas, he finally stops the fingers torturing your bud, and they move instead to claim the skin of your backside. With two handfuls of your plump flesh, Garou bottoms out inside you for the last time, burying himself as far as he can in your heat before he releases.

        “Fuck, YN,” he groans, enough warmth spilling inside you that you can actually feel your walls stretch from the sheer amount. Your core, still quivering from overuse, milks his member of every drop. “You take everything I give you so, so well.”

        Garou slips out of you with both of you panting and huffing at the aftermath. Kisses pepper your back, but the second you try to lower yourself down, Garou props you right back up again. 

        “Oh, Angel, look what you did,” he tsks. You already know what happened; you can feel his hot release sliding down your shaking thighs just the same as your own. You flinch away from the feeling of Garou sliding his fingers along your skin, gathering the seed up on his fingers before pushing it back inside you. 

        “F-fuckkk,” you whimper, trying to wiggle away from the nails toying with your abused slit. The overstimulation of his fingers brushing over your sore bud once again has your chest tightening with a sob. The burn, the ache, the non-stop throbbing of your walls all felt so bad, and yet so good at the same time. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

        “YN, did you think we were finished here?”

        You don’t respond, barely even having enough strength to lift your head from where it’s pressed into the mattress. The bed squeaks as Garou repositions himself behind you. His hands, large and slick with both of your releases, slide back up your body all the way to your breasts. He presses a kiss to your spine before tugging you up with brute strength, using the positioning of his hands to press your back against his chest before massage the mounds’ peaks. 

        Garou’s teeth nibble on your earlobe before he whispers, “You were sorely mistaken, Angel.”

        He sinks his member back inside you, the new angle driving much deeper than earlier, almost too deep. It doesn’t matter that you’re worn and covered in sweat. Drool pools down your chin and your jaw drops just before your head falls back onto Garou’s shoulder, nodding back and forth as he rocks into you. 

        “Shit, I can feel my cum inside you, but your greedy pussy wants more, doesn’t it?”

        “Mmmmmhm!” That damned coil in your stomach tightens much easier, almost driving you over the edge again thanks to the short break Garou gave you. Suddenly, your body’s rearing to go again, the ache of sore muscles fading away into pure bliss as you wrap your arms above and behind you, right around Garou’s neck and digging into his hair. One tug, and he knows you’re ready for another round.

        “You wanna be filled with my cum? You wanna have my children, don’t you?”

        “Ah shit!” One thrust of his hips pulls his member out of you completely, having it bump directly into your clit before finding its way back deep into your fluttering hole.

        Tears stain your cheeks at the euphoria that comes with Garou sheathing his length inside you, tearing apart your walls each time with a feral frenzy you can only go to him for. 

        Your mind hums with white noise, creating a foggy haze over the rest of the night.

                                ~~~

        Garou can’t stop smiling. He knows he should have fallen asleep by now. Even the sun was beginning to rise just outside your window.

        But he just couldn’t help but stare. 

        The bed was a mess, and he would have to buy you a new headboard and sheets, but you looked so beautiful. 

        Deep down, he knew it was too early, but you were practically glowing with pregnancy already. 

        Last night, you had made him promises while fogged in pleasure, promises you hadn’t even noticed you were making. 

        “I’ll always be yours, Garou.”

        “Yes, please let me have your children.”

        “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

        The scratches raking down his back held proof that you were at least partially conscious of your actions, so he knew you meant what you said.

        A hand of his slides over your neck, past the marks littering your body to massage the soft skin of your stomach as you sleep. Surely it wasn’t just his imagination at this point. Your stomach actually looked swollen this morning, so full and ready to bear his children. 

        After last night, there was no way you weren’t pregnant. 

        Soon, he would become the father of your children. 

        Soon, you would have a reason to never leave him.

Story Time (Ushijima x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: When you are assigned a partner project with the intimidating Ushiwaka, you start to realize he’s not all that scary, and maybe, just maybe you could teach him a thing or two about Happily Ever Afters.

Author’s Note: I’m just gonna say it now: Ushiwaka would be a big softie for his s/o. There, I said it. Anyways, he’s a lil OOC in this fic, but suck it up bc he’s adorable… well, at least to me, he is. Enjoy! 

Word count: 3344

        The rain drops on the window were having a race, and droplet number three was winning. You, the referee of this epic face off, sat in class quite boredly, barely comprehending the teacher’s droning on about a new project. You were going to have a partner and a syllabus, so there was no reason for you to listen that intensely. Your neck was sore from being held in it’s turned position for such a stretch of time, and so was the hand that held your chin, but you couldn’t care less. A tune popped into your head, and while humming slightly you began to bounce your knee to the beat as well. 

        “That song is super old, you know,” the redhead who sat beside you piped up, “try singing a newer one, like ‘Filter.’” 

        “Tendou, is there something you and YN would like to share with the class?” the teacher announced, giving your desk mate a pointed look. 

        “Sorry, miss, I was just suggesting YN change her radio station. The song she was on wasn’t really my style,” he teasingly remarked. A couple of students chuckled at the facial expressions the class clown and the teacher exchanged, but you were just glad the attention was once more off you. Finally, the teacher backed down and returned to the list she was reading aloud, and Tendou gave you a victorious smirk. 

        “’Serendipity’ is not that old,” you whispered to him while keeping your eyes on the front of the class. 

        The redhead raised his brow in return, opening his mouth to counter, “You know it's from three years ago, right. They’ve made plenty of new-”

        “YN.” The teacher’s call instantly grabbed your attention, and you looked up at her in fear of a scolding. “You’ll be partners with Ushijima.” The statement startled you, until you remembered oh crap, there’s a new project. Dark green eyes found yours from across the room, and you blushed before glancing away. Your desk mate beside you had noticed, however, and let out a small hum with a devious smirk before moving to join his own partner. 

        Tendou’s intimidating teammate sauntered over to your desk, completely dismissing the lack of personal space and invading your precious bubble. He didn’t smile at you, but he never smiled, so that was to be expected. Ushijima was known as a terrifyingly strong, but equally handsome, man, and with that information, you received the same amount of pitying looks as you did jealous. 

        Ignoring the eyes on you, you watched in your peripheral vision as Ushijima pulled up a chair right next to your desk and crashed down into it. His lumbering body wasn’t as graceful as it seemed on television, and you couldn’t help but spiral into a mental rabbit hole at the thought of him, or more specifically, his volleyball team, and the games you had seen them play on local sports stations. There was always one player your eyes never strayed from, but to be fair, the platinum blond setter was highly attractive. 

        You were drawn from your thoughts by a throat clearing at your side. This time, the man’s spine-chilling presence was too close to bear, so you scooched your own seat away slightly, only to cringe at the loud screech it made against the floor. A look flashed in Ushijima’s eyes, but it was gone too quickly for you to identify, especially as you chuckled nervously at your own blunder. Finally, he gruffly spoke up. “I think we should read books to the local elementary school.”

        Silence fell over you. Yep, that was definitely the last thing you expected to hear from the stone-faced ace. “W-we should what?” you asked incredulously.

        “For our ‘Give Back to the Community’ project. I think we should read to elementary schoolers.” Oh, so that’s what the assignment was about. However, your fellow third year’s suggestion was just as jaw-dropping as when you first heard it. To make sure he was serious, you inspected his dark orbs, only to find they were just as indifferent as when he first approached you. Well, no point in arguing with him now, you thought, instantly adhering to his admittedly good plan. In any case, you already had a younger cousin who attended that school, and would love to see her again. 

         “I think that’s a great idea,” you declared while flashing him a small smile. “What kind of books were you thinking?”

                                ~~~

        Walking through the halls, you glanced back down at the note you had for Ushijima. It was a reminder he had wanted you to make for both of you, along with a time and place of when you would read at the elementary school. Last night you had contacted its principal and had gotten the go ahead for your project. Now where is that brute, you thought as you searched for his olive-brown hair. At first, you thought it would have been easy given his hulking form. But now, after trying to hunt him down for at least twenty minutes, you were starting to grow agitated. 

        “Hey YN, looking for someone?” A voice sounded behind you. Turning around at its familiarity, you expected to also see your partner, only to flush at the sight of your crush. Tendou smirked at your red face, but he also appeared disappointed. You didn’t notice a thing, though, as your eyes hadn’t strayed once from Semi. The blond looked at you almost unimpressed, and you subconsciously wondered if there was something on your face, or if your hair had been mussed up. 

        “Y-yeah, umm,” you cleared your throat at the stutter. “Have you seen Ushiwaka anywhere? I have our project time for him.” 

        Tendou smiled at something, or someone behind you, and kept his mouth shut when a deep, stiff voice spoke, “Hello YN.” Whipping around, you beamed victoriously at the sight. The action must have blinded the ace player, because he looked away directly after. 

        Shoving the note into Ushijima’s hands, you informed him, “We got the appointment on Friday at the elementary school closest to here. I already spoke with our teacher, and she gave us permission to miss school for it, thank God. It’s around lunch, so we’ll have to leave a little before that time.” Your eyes shined with pride at what you had already done for the project, and you talked almost excitedly. You had always wanted to work with children, so you adored Ushijima’s idea. 

        “Sounds great, I’ll see you then.” 

        “Okay, see you guys around.” Waving as you walked away, you turned back and held your cold hands to your cheeks. While you had only ever truly spoken to Semi once, it was still just as nerve-wracking to speak with him directly behind you. 

        As you left down the hall, you failed to notice the three pairs of eyes on you: one indifferent, one cocky, and one… abnormally bright.

                                ~~~

        Sitting in one of two main rocking chairs of the school’s library, you were even more nervous than usual when Ushijima approached you, arriving right on time while you had chosen to roll in twenty minutes ahead of schedule. The teachers you had talked to said they would release their students at 12:30 to the library, giving the pair of you thirty minutes to choose a story and hope it would keep their attention. 

        “Hey,” you greeted your project partner, observing as he took the seat next to you. 

        “Hello,” he responded bluntly, sitting uncomfortably stiff in his chair as it began to rock on its own. The conversation seemed to have hit a dead end; that is, until you remembered something. 

        “Oh, what fairy tale did you want to read to the kids?” you asked him, standing up and approaching the section of the library evidently labeled “Fables.” While waiting for his response, you chose to busy yourself by checking out the many options available on the shelves. 

        “Preferably a calm one. Maybe… without princesses?” For the first time in your whole life, Ushijima sounded unsure of himself, almost as if fairy tales were unknown territory to him.

        You grew confused. “Well then, what’s your favorite one from when you were a kid?”

        “I never really read fairy tales as a child. Though I do remember hearing about one that does pique my interest.” You stopped and stared at your partner in bewilderment at the first half of his statement, and a frown stole the place of your smile at the confession. Who’s never read fairy tales as a kid? What a sad childhood that must have been, you thought to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. 

        “I’m so sorry, but fairy tales are great, you should read some when you have the chance! Some are a little more sinister than others if you read from certain authors, l-like Cinderella! In the original, the stepsisters like cut off parts of their own feet, but-,” you cut yourself off, surprised at your own word vomit. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.” Your jaw almost dropped when Ushijima, the Ushijima, brandished you a small hint of a smile, the corners of his lips slightly upturned. 

        “It’s okay, I like hearing about them. Maybe not those kinds of scenes but…” his deep voice trailed off and he gestured for you to continue. Quickly, you changed the subject and looked away to avoid making contact with his sharp, olive-colored orbs. You knew that if you had kept staring, a blush would’ve been inevitable. 

        “Umm, okay, that’s cool,” you mumbled out. “Anyways, you were saying one piqued your interest. Which one?”

        His eyes seemed to glimmer at the mention of his evidently beguiling fable, and he announced, “‘Little Red Riding Hood.’ That’s the one that has always interested me. Although I hear there are many different versions of this one, so I fear I might not be thinking of the right story for the kids. What do you think?”

        You shake your head and say, “No, no, no. That is a good one, but what happened in the version your thinking of that's got you so interested in it?”

        “Well, in the one I’ve heard about, the wolf and Little Red Riding Hood-” Ushijima is cut off by the sudden chatter of young children entering the room. Eyes widening in surprise, you check the time, only to be confused when you realize that they are a few minutes early. A teacher stumbles over to Ushijima and hurriedly explains that the kids had finished their music class ahead of schedule, so the reading would need to start prematurely.

        Hastily, you wrack your mind for the author’s name of the age-appropriate Little Red Riding Hood story and “Aha” victoriously as your eyes spot the book you were looking for. Retrieving it from the shelf, you strut over to your project partner with the slim picture book in hand, motioning for him to join you in front of the twenty-something group of elementary schoolers in your two given rocking chairs. 

        You give him a small, reassuring smile before you announce, “Hey kids, my name is YN YLN and this is Wakatoshi Ushijima and today we will be reading ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ to you guys!” Attempting to keep your voice cheerful, you are relieved when the children respond positively instead of groaning like you had expected. Spotting your little cousin in the front row of the class, you return her excited wave softly and accompany it with a large grin. Winking at Ushijima, you don’t have time to question your cheeky action before you hand him the book, allowing him to start reading his coveted fairy tale. 

                                ~~~

        As more time passes, you start to realize Ushijima is growing more and more confused with his fable. After you close the book with the classic “Happy Ever After,” you throw him a confused smile as the class of children shout a loud, rambunctious “Thank you!” Before you can question him, however, your younger cousin approaches and gives you a large hug.

        “N/N, that was so fun! I wish you would read to our class more! Can you please read to our class more?” Her voice began to transition from begging to whining, and you started to panic internally while wondering how to handle the situation. After all, you had only babysat her once before, and that night, you had done just about anything to get her to stop crying. 

        You were fearing the same result when, thankfully, her teacher came to the rescue, telling her that she needed to rejoin the class. Grumbling under her breath, your cousin gave you one last hug while glancing at Ushijima, who had been awkwardly watching the encounter from his chair. Looking away with fear, your cousin hesitantly whispered, “N/N, your boyfriend is scary.” Your cousin’s teacher was quick to usher her out of the library before you could explain that, no, the scary man was not your boyfriend, and please don’t tell the rest of the family as they will flip.

        Sighing in exasperation, you whip around and give Ushijima a shy smile and laugh before saying, “Sorry about her, she just assumed, I’ll tell her later. If she doesn’t forget by then.”

        Ushijima ignores your lame joke while responding, “That’s okay, I didn’t mind.” Hearing those words, you flush slightly and wonder if he meant it how it sounded. 

        Rapidly changing the subject, you asked him why he seemed so confused while reading the ‘Red Riding Hood’ fairy tale.

        “Well,” he admitted, “In the one I’ve always heard about, the wolf and Little Red Riding Hood fall in love, and the wolf is actually just a kind werewolf who looks scary most of the time. And Little Red Riding Hood isn’t a little girl, but an adult just like him, who ignores his flaws….” Ushijima trails off and he looks away as he begins to blush as well. Your eyebrows raise softly at his unexpectedly sheepish admission, and you smile widely. 

        “You know, if you wanted a story like that, we could always read ‘Beauty and the Beast.’ That one’s pretty much on the track you’re looking for,” You tell him, grin not stopping for an instant. 

        “We?” he asks gently and you almost choke on the oxygen in your lungs. 

        “You! You! I meant you. You could always… read it on your own, not we.” You fail to miss the way the smug glimmer in his eyes falls, and you smirk while lightly suggesting, “Unless you do want us to read it?” 

        With that, Ushijima seems to gain his confidence back, only for it to drop once more when he mutters, “I couldn’t do that. We shouldn’t do that.”

        Bewildered by his sudden change in attitude towards you, you quickly question, “Why?”

        “Because.”

        “Because?”

        “Because I’ve seen you around Semi, and I… I don’t want to ruin whatever you guys may have,” Ushijima admits, his hands subconsciously curling into fists. While watching this, your eyes widen in realization and you wonder to yourself, Am I really that obvious? Shaking away the thought, you quickly grab the man’s hand and unfurl it, holding it in both of yours while looking him in the eyes.

        “I’ll admit, before today, I did like Semi, but for appearances only! I’ve never even talked to him. Well, only once, but that was because he helped me pick up my books when I dropped them, tripping over God knows what-,” you cut off your own rambling once again, and wonder to yourself why you do that so often, especially in his presence. “Either way, my crush on him is purely visual, if that’s what you want to call it. Now... well, I’m really hoping we get a chance to read ‘Beauty and the Beast’ together. Or at least watch the movie…?” you trail off suggestively, timidly awaiting his response. 

        Ushijima is silent for a moment, and you begin to lose your confidence, loosening your grip on his hand, but he quickly grasps both of yours once more in an instant. 

        “I’d like that. A lot.”

                                ~~~

        Glancing at the clock on the gym wall, you groan and look back to the court while whining, “Wakatoshi, come on. We’re gonna miss the movie.” You bounce up and down on your toes impatiently, watching your boyfriend once again spike the ball so hard into the floor on the other side of the court that it bounces up and lands in the stands. At least I don’t flinch at the sound anymore, you thought, watching Goshiki grumble under his breath before racing up the stairs to retrieve yet another volleyball. 

        “Sorry, babe, just one more I promise,” the ace replies distractedly.  

        “Babe, huh?” Tendou asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “You guys must be getting serious. Who’d have thought Mr. Scary, Blank-Face Man would get a girlfriend, and call her ‘babe’ nonetheless!” The redhead laughs to himself loudly and cheekily elbows Shirabu in the side, who responds by shooing his hands away in irritation.

        Ignoring his teammate’s taunts, Ushijima tosses up the ball again to Semi, who sets it perfectly in place for his favorite spike. The ball hits the other half of the court so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t pop from the pressure. Following as it travels once more into the public seating on the second level of the gym, your amazed expression drops in exchange for amusement. Everyone witnesses as it rebounds back down onto the court as a result of the ball hitting a chair. 

        “Thank God,” Goshiki mutters, dropping the first ball he got into the basket and picking up the second one just as it rolled over to him. “I am so tired of this job,” he tells you, and you giggle at his worn out expression. 

        Noticing this, Ushijima jogs over to you and swiftly kisses your cheek, giving a pointed look to the first year before packing up his gear. You roll your eyes at his possessive action and decide to help the boys clean up while waiting for your boyfriend. Just as you reach for a stray volleyball, another hand plucks it away. You glance up and smile politely at Semi while jokingly claiming, “That one was mine, you know.” 

        The blonde third year blushes at your quip, chuckling slightly before replying, “Sorry, I didn’t know you claimed it. You still want it?” He teasingly holds it out to you, but the ball is stolen out of his grip by one stronger, larger hand. 

        Looking up slowly, Semi shivers at the glare he receives from Ushijima who smoothly throws the ball into the basket behind his teammate. “Actually, it was mine.” 

        Scoffing and smirking at your boyfriend’s jealous tone, you grab his now empty hand and say, “Don’t get all pissy, let’s just go before we miss the whole movie.” As the two of you walk through the gym doors, you look over to see Ushijima glaring back at his poor teammate, who keeps his wide, brown orbs locked on the ground to avoid the ace’s wrathful gaze. You roll your eyes once more before pulling his face toward yours. The intimate act successfully captures his attention, and you playfully whisper, “You’re really hot when you’re mad. I like it.”

        Raising his brows, Ushijima’s deep voice teased, “Oh really? Well then maybe we should skip the movie altogether.” 

        You smile flirtatiously at him while biting your lip. “I like that idea. Maybe we could just talk all night long.” 

        “Sounds good, because I’m still confused as to why the little girl didn’t notice her grandmother was actually a wolf. Was she nearsighted?” You groan at his innocent change of the subject.

        “Are you serious? I’ve told you a thousand times, she was just a little girl who didn’t notice for the sake of the story!” 

        “I would’ve noticed if my grandmother was a wolf.”

        “I know, I know, ‘cause nothing flies past you, except for every single joke ever.”

        “Impossible… jokes do not fly.” 

        Your whine of exasperation fades into the night as the two of you walk home to discuss fairy tales. 

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.”

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.

OMFG I JUST SAW THE PART THREE WAS POSTED AN HOUR AGO, BLESS YOU!!

✨ again

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