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rubycruzin4abruzin · 9 days

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Forbidden Crown: ch. I

Summary: As a princess, your parents choose your spouse, and they decide it’s time to start looking shortly after your fifth birthday. However, when your parents decide to unite kingdoms with Tir Asleen and introduce you to Prince Airk, you’re seemingly more drawn to his twin sister, Kit.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: fluff, matchmaking, childlike play, kisses to mimic adult behavior, pure innocence

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of Forbidden Crown! It’s a coming of age story, so in this chapter, our main characters are five years old, but in the next, they’ll be ten, and so on. Not too much happens in this chapter, but I promise it’ll get a lot juicier later. Enjoy! :)

As a princess, you always knew you wouldn’t get to choose a spouse. Instead, you grew up knowing exactly who you would one day marry.

Your parents, the king and queen of Azarenth, decided it was time to start looking for suitors shortly after you turned five. Their idea was for the two of you to meet frequently, essentially growing up together before tying the knot and officially uniting kingdoms. After some extensive research, your parents discovered a nearby kingdom with a prince around your age. So, they packed your belongings and loaded up the carriage for the journey to the kingdom of Tir Asleen.

Since you were so young, your parents didn’t tell you the exact reason you were visiting this new kingdom; all you knew was that you were going to play with a new friend and that your parents seemed very anxious upon arrival. They had dressed you in your best clothes: a puffy white dress with pink lace ribbons, and were constantly readjusting the bows or smoothing out the fabric. You scowled at all the fuss; you had been on plenty of playdates before and didn't understand why this one was such a big deal.

Stepping out of the carriage, a woman who appeared to be the queen of Tir Asleen greeted you and shook hands with your parents. She introduced herself as ‘Sorsha,’ and wore a wide smile as she spoke in a gentle tone.

“Hello little one,” she bent down to meet you at eye level. “The children are out back in the garden. Why don’t you go play?”

You agreed, happily leaving the adults to chat freely. As you made your way to the garden, you wondered what Sorsha had meant by ‘children.’ Your parents had said that you were here to make one friend, but the possibility of making multiple friends was even more exciting.

Upon reaching the palace garden, you opened the gate and walked in to see only one child, a boy who looked to be around your age. You felt a twinge of disappointment, but quickly hid it after he noticed your presence and flashed you a warm smile.

“Hi,” he greeted. “I’m Airk. Airk Tanthalos. What’s your name?”

You introduced yourself, prompting him to nod in response before speaking again.

“My mom says we’re gonna be friends now. I was just playing hide-n-seek with my sister.”

You perked up at this new information, excitedly anticipating the arrival of more friends.

Airk spun around, calling out to the entirety of the garden. “Kit! Our guest is here!”

No response. Airk sighed. “Kit! Olly olly oxen free!”

Suddenly, a little girl emerged from behind a tree, capturing your attention. She was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. You were taught that princesses should always be proper and ladylike, which Kit certainly was not. Instead, stray hairs clung to her flushed cheeks and hung just above her mouth, dyed purple from grape-juice. Grass and mud stained her tunic, and she wore breeches. You didn’t know girls were even allowed to wear breeches.

As she walked towards you and Airk, you quickly became infatuated with her. She was just so… cool.

Airk turned back towards you, rolling his eyes. “That’s Kit. Don’t mind her. She’s stubborn.”

“Gotta be stubborn when you’re the best hide-n-seeker in all of Tir Asleen.” Kit retorted, sticking out her tongue.

Airk stuck out his tongue back in response before gesturing towards you. “This is our guest. Mom says we’re going to be friends with her now.”

Kit turned towards you, face brightening as if this was the first time she noticed your presence. “Oh you’re the guest. How old are you?”

You shyly held up five fingers, causing Airk to erupt into mocking laughter. “You’re five? I hadn’t realized I was in the presence of a baby!”

Anger bubbled up inside you at his words. You had just met this boy, and he was already not very nice.

“Shut up, Airk!” Kit exclaimed, pushing her brother's head. “If anyone here is a baby it’s you!”

“Nuh-uh! You’re the baby! You’re only six!”

“So are you, idiot!”

“I’m still older!”

“By like, one minute!”

Airk huffed in response, crossing his arms and pouting. Kit flashed you a reassuring smile, and you felt warmth bubbling from inside you. This girl, this cool, older girl, had just stood up for you.

“Do you want to play tag?” Kit asked you. “Airk is awful at tag.”

“Nuh-uh! I’m super fast…”

“I can’t,” you cut Airk off and looked towards Kit regrettably. “I can’t run in this stupid dress.”

You pulled at your outfit, exaggerating your frustration. Kit scrunched up her face, seemingly deep in thought before she jumped up as if a lightbulb went off in her head.

“I’ll be right back,” she exclaimed, before running inside.

Now that you and Airk were alone together, it was almost awkward. You tugged at your dress, while he sat and pulled at the grass.

“I like your dress,” he muttered. “I think it makes you look pretty.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks at the compliment; maybe this boy wasn’t so bad after all. “Thanks.”

Seconds later, Kit came running back out of the castle carrying a garment of some sorts. She slowed to catch her breath as she approached you, proudly holding up the item.

“Breeches,” she explained breathlessly. “Put them on under your dress, then just tuck the skirt in.”

You stared at the garment, turning it over in wonder. “I’ve never had breeches before.”

“Keep them,” Kit replied. “Now you do.”

Your heart swelled at her kind gesture. First the cool girl had stood up for you, and now she was giving you a gift.

After thanking her, you slid the breeches on from underneath your dress, and tucked your skirt into the waistband. The thick fabric of your dress spilled out and bulged against the hem of the pants, sort of making you look like a spinning top, but you didn’t care. You were mobile now, and free to play whatever.

Feeling giddy, and slightly mischievous, you walked up to Kit, giggling behind your hand before slapping her on the shoulder.

“Tag! You’re it!”

You ran away, chuckling loudly as Kit gasped. She narrowed her eyes with an impish grin, feigning displeasure at being “it.”

“I’ll get you for that!”

The game continued with the three of you, but it was mostly you and Kit chasing each other around the garden, giggling until your ribs ached. At one point, you were running away from Kit, almost escaping before she took a shortcut through a flower bed and tackled you. You landed flat on your back, looking up at a giddy Kit in shock.

“Tag! You’re it! I win again!” She exclaimed, giggling as she reached up and pulled out a pink ribbon from your hair.

You groaned, grabbing for the ribbon as she dangled it over your head. “Kit! No fair, give it back!”

“I don’t think I will. I won, so I’ll take this as my trophy.” She twisted the ribbon in her fingers, examining the lace detail. “Besides, I gave you my breeches, it’s only fair you give me something of yours.”

She crawled off of you and lazily tied the ribbon in her tousled hair. The untidy knot hung loosely over her tangles and stood out like a sore thumb, but the sight of her in something you owned was so enthralling that you couldn’t care less.

Batting her eyelashes, she pouted her lips dramatically. “How do I look?”

You giggled. “Beautiful. Like a princess.”

The two of you tittered about while Airk groaned, feeling left out. “Can we play something else?”

Kit shrugged. “Fine. Let’s play house.”

Airk perked up, nodding in enthusiastic agreement before running over and grabbing your arm. “Great! We can play mommy and daddy, and you’re our child and you have to do whatever we say, Kit.”

“Nuh-uh!” Kit argued, grabbing onto your other arm. “How about I play the daddy, and you be our child and do whatever we say!”

“No fair!” Airk exclaimed. “It was my idea first!”

“It was my idea to play house!” Kit retorted smugly before slinging an arm around your shoulder. “How about we let our guest decide?”

“Fine!” Airk turned to you. “Who do you want to be married to? Me, or Kit?”

You looked between the siblings, weighing your options. Kit was so cool, but Airk was a boy, and you’d never heard of two girls getting married. But if it’s just pretend, and she’s playing the daddy anyway, then it should be alright… right?

Turning to Airk, you shot him a smug smirk. “Who’s the baby now?”

Kit erupted into mocking laughter while Airk grumbled, crossing his arms. “I’d rather be the horse.”

With that complaint, the game began, Airk finally giving in and agreeing to be yours and Kit’s son. You were pretending to prepare Airk as the next heir to the throne before Kit entered the scene, carrying a branch as a makeshift sword.

“Hello, wife,” Kit announced, lowering her voice to impersonate a man. “I’m back from the fight with General Kael.”

“Welcome home, dear,” you replied. “How was the fight?”

“Well I won, of course.” Kit boasted.

You clapped your hands in excitement. “That's wonderful, my love! Airk, did you hear your father?”

“Sure, sure.” Airk grumbled, completely disinterested.

Kit turned to her brother, waving her finger and pretending to be stern. “Listen to your mother, son. Someday it will be your responsibility to defeat leaders of evil armies.”

Airk rolled his eyes while you giggled, smiling at your pretend husband. “Darling, I’m so happy I married you. You’re such a great husband and father, and I’m so proud of you for defeating General Kael.”

“Bo-ring!” Airk complained, being completely ignored by you and Kit.

“Thank you sweetheart,” Kit replied in her mannish voice. “But the battle isn’t over yet. I must go back out and defeat Queen Bavmorda. Give me a kiss for good luck?”

“Kiss?” You asked, breaking character.

Kit dropped the act, returning to her normal voice. “Yeah. Mommies and daddies kiss, so we have to kiss.”

“You can’t kiss!” Airk shouted. “Kissing is for grown-ups!”

“We’re grown-ups in the game,” Kit argued.

“I’ve seen my mommy and daddy kiss, but I’ve never kissed,” you admitted, silently hoping that Kit wouldn’t think less of you.

“That’s alright,” Kit reassured with a gentle smile. “It’s easy. Just stand still, and close your eyes.”

You did as you were told, and suddenly, just for a brief second, you felt Kit’s lips on yours. It was only an innocent peck, but lingered with the taste of grape juice, and left an unfamiliar buzzing sound in your ears. Every inch of your small body tingled with warmth, and in that moment, you were convinced that Kit could do no wrong; everything about her was perfect.

“Gross!” Airk sneered, earning a sharp thwack from Kit using the tree branch she was holding.

And so the game continued, you pretending to tend to your ‘kingdom’ and prepare Airk as an heir, while Kit ran around the garden, using her trusty tree branch to reenact tales her father, Madmartigan, had told her. In between scenes, you would boss Airk around, sending him on side quests, or hide behind shrubs and share sweet grape-juice flavored kisses.

Eventually, the sun began to set, signaling the end of your play day. You and Kit had teamed up to wrestle Airk to the ground when Sorsha and your parents entered the garden gate, laughing like longtime friends. Upon seeing you, however, your parents froze at the shocking sight. Their beloved daughter, raised to be a prim and proper princess, was caked in mud, and wrestling a boy with her dress tucked into a pair of breeches that didn’t belong to her.

You heard your mother call your name, and immediately paused the roughhousing to shift your attention towards her. She forced a plastic smile, clearly displeased with your current appearance, but unwilling to make a scene in front of Sorsha.

“What are those?” She asked through gritted teeth, gesturing towards your lower half.

“Breeches!” You replied proudly. “Kit gave them to me.”

“Well wasn’t that nice of her,” she hummed, exchanging looks with your father.

Sorsha looked over to her own children and let out a sigh, noticing they hadn’t stopped wrestling. “Kit! Get off your brother!”

“Airk is in training, mom!” Kit whined, climbing off her brother. “He has to learn how to defeat Queen Bavmorda if he wants to be the next heir to the throne!”

“Her father…” Sorsha muttered an apologetic explanation to your parents before turning back to the twins. “Kit, why don’t you and Airk go inside and ask the cook to make our guests a snack?”

“Fine…” the twins murmured before trudging back into the castle.

Now that you were alone with the three adults, it seemed as if all their attention fixated on you. They crouched down to your level, peering at you with toothy grins plastered on their faces. A feeling of unease settled like a pit in your stomach, compelling you to take a small step back before they started speaking.

“Sweetheart,” your mother started, her voice dripping with sickening sweetness. “Did you have fun today?”

“I did,” you replied, letting your guard down slightly. “Kit is fantastic. She’s like a brave warrior princess!”

Your mother pursed her lips in disapproval, prompting Sorsha to quickly chime in. “What about Airk? Did you enjoy playing with Airk?”

Even though you had formed a stronger bond with Kit, you did still enjoy playing with Airk. “Yea, he was fun to play with too.”

All three adults beamed at you once again, teeth shining so bright you were almost sure you were going blind. That previous feeling of unease settled in your stomach again; you weren’t sure what your parents were planning, or why they kept interrogating you about your new friends.

It was your father, your gentle and typically soft-spoken father, who decided to ask the question they were all waiting for. “Princess, when you grow up, would you like to marry Airk?”

The adults looked at you expectantly, waiting with bated breath. To you, this was nothing more than an innocent question, a completely hypothetical situation. To them, however, your answer would determine the rest of your life.

You furrowed your brow, pondering their question. “If I marry Airk, does that mean I can play with Kit forever and ever?”

Your parents glanced at each other, and then at Sorsha. All three were slightly taken aback by your response, and none of them knew how to answer your question.

Finally, it was your mother who decided to speak up, nodding slowly as she did. “Well… if you were to marry Airk… technically you and Kit would be sisters. So… yes, I suppose you would get to spend a lot of time together.”

A warm feeling exploded in your chest. Sisters? You’d never even had a sibling before, let alone a sister, and the thought of having one as cool as Kit made you bounce with excitement.

“Then yes,” you exclaimed. “When I grow up, I want to marry Airk!”

The adults cheered in approval, your father hoisting you up onto his shoulders while the women chatted about plans for something you couldn’t make out. At this point, the twins came back out carrying snacks, and ended up joining the impromptu celebration. Not you, nor Kit, nor Airk knew what exactly was being celebrated, but everyone was happy, and that was all any of you cared about.

That night was spent in the Tir Asleen castle, you and your parents meant to be resting for the journey back to Azarenth the next morning. You were supposed to use one of the many guest rooms available, but you and Kit had begged your parents to let you share Kit’s room, and after promising to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, they finally agreed.

You and Kit spent the entire night hidden under her covers, telling stories and sharing sweet secrets. Once the night sky turned pitch black, you had to resort to soft whispers and stifled giggles, for fear of your parents hearing you awake so late and making you sleep separately. Eventually, just before daybreak, you two fell asleep, passed out only after neither of you could keep your eyes open any longer.

The next morning, Sorsha found you both collapsed, buried under Kit’s sheets, lying in a heap and practically tangled into each other. As she gently shook you awake and sent you to the room your parents were staying in, she couldn’t help but smile to herself; Kit didn’t have many girl friends, instead opting to spend most of her free time with her brother and other boys from the neighboring village. It was refreshing, watching her daughter form a close bond with a girl, especially one she was planning on having as a future daughter-in-law.

After getting dressed and sharing a quick breakfast, it was time for you and your parents to begin making your way back to Azarenth. You and Kit shared a tearful goodbye, promising to remain close companions as you embraced each other for the last time.

“Do you still have my breeches?” Kit whispered.

You nodded. “I’m wearing them under my skirt.”

As you let go of each other, you glanced down and noticed your pink ribbon from the previous day was now tied around Kit’s wrist, neatly held together with a bow. You smiled, gingerly picking up her hand and running your fingers over the lacy fabric.

“My ribbon…” you whispered.

“Mommy helped me put it on,” Kit grinned proudly, holding it up by her face in an exaggerated pose. “How do I look?”

You giggled. “Like a princess.”

After leaving Kit and bidding a quick farewell to Airk, you and your parents piled into the carriage for the journey back to your own kingdom. Soon, all you could hear was the dull clip-clop of the driving horse stepping along the cobblestone road.

“Hmm,” your mother pursed her lips as soon as Tir Asleen was out of sight. “I’m not sure how I feel about that Kit girl. She doesn’t seem like the most positive influence. I mean, breeches? On a princess? What was her mother thinking?”

You gulped, crossing your legs and pulling your skirt farther down, fearing that your mother could tell you were secretly wearing Kit’s breeches underneath.

“Something tells me Sorsha isn’t too happy about the breeches herself,” your father murmured, making your mother nod in agreement.

The tips of your ears burned with resentment. In that moment, you hated your parents for looking down on Kit, and didn’t understand how they couldn’t see her the same way you did: wonderful.

Despite your indignation, you chose to bite your tongue, deciding that arguing would prove fruitless. Instead, you threw yourself into your imagination, looking out the window of the carriage and daydreaming about you and Kit growing up and running away together, free from the confines of your parents.

Little did you know, it would be five years before you saw Kit again.

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hedghost · 9 months

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maya le tissier | love languages

maya tells you she loves you in just about every way she can, all day, every day. she just doesn't say it in so many words. it takes you a while to catch on.

not enough maya appreciation on this app - enough is enough

word count: 8.7k

quality time

the empty bottle of wine stands sentry on the coffee table. you watch as the low glow of the tv reflects in the dregs left in your finished glasses. the volume is too low to hear what's being said, the show you were previously watching reduced to a steady background hum, but neither of you mind; you'd both stopped paying attention long ago.

you glance up from your book momentarily, your eyes flickering over the figure at the other end of the sofa. maya is similarly occupied; one hand softly tracing the words as she reads, the other absentmindedly tangling back and forth in mocha’s fur as he stretches across her feet. her hair hangs loose around her face, the lamp beside her casting her half in shadow and half in warm, orange light. mocha looks up at you, but maya doesn’t.

your attention shifts back to your book, and you settle back into familiarity. this nightly routine is one you love; the shared moment of respite from your busy schedules. it’s getting late though, and the words are starting to blur together on the page. you don’t want to disturb the peace just yet.

it’s only when you find your eyes running over the same sentence for the third time that you shift. the old sofa creaks a little as you stretch, and you let out an exaggerated groan to match it as you stand. maya laughs a little, but she doesn’t lift her gaze from the page. if she had she would have caught the way you poked your tongue out at her, and probably would have responded in kind.

maya cooked tonight, and so you begin to dutifully gather the empty dishes. it’s only when you’re arms deep in soapy water that you hear maya stand too. her book thuds against the coffee table, and mocha lets out a low bark.

“just taking the dog out,” maya calls, and you hum in response. the latch clicks. you reach a soapy hand out of the water to flick the kettle on. it’s all part of the routine.

they aren’t gone long, and their return is soon heralded by the gentle patter of mocha’s claws against the hardwood. maya pads into the kitchen, pulls two mugs and two teabags out of the cupboard, pours the water, now boiled, then hauls herself onto the worktop beside you.

“i was thinking of going on a dog walk in the woods tomorrow, you wanna come?”

“yeah sure, are the others coming?”

it’s a running joke that the 'unoffical manchester united dog walker's club' is the apex of the team’s social ladder. forget the coffee mornings, the brunches, the team nights out - if you wanted a way in for true bonding, you had to own a dog. it was common on days off for a group of the girls to get together to walk their dogs, with the intensity ranging from leisurely stroll to outright hike, depending on who had planned it. you’d learnt the hard way to politely decline when leah chose the route.

sure you didn’t technically own a dog, but having been roommates with maya for the best part of a year, and best friends for far longer, mocha was basically in shared custody. you regularly tagged along, as an honourary member of a tight-knit group.

it’s why you weren’t expecting maya to shrug and shake her head.

“i haven’t asked - i figured we could just go together. we haven’t hung out just us in a while.”

you chose not to mention that the two of you spent almost every night together in your flat, or that you’d gotten lunch together just two days ago. instead you grinned and nodded, drying your hands and taking the cup of tea that maya held out to you.

“sounds good,” you sip gently at your tea - before spitting it out with a yelp, “fuck, that’s hot!”

maya laughs brightly at you, even though you do this pretty much every day, “yeah no shit, i just made it - be patient for once!” you stick your tongue out at her, and this time she does see it, and she does return the gesture. it’s childish, sure, but your friendship had started in the youth age groups, and, although you were responsible adults now, some things never change.

you lean back against the counter as you wait for the tea to cool, and the two of you begin chatting a little while longer about not much at all. eventually maya jumps down, rinsing her mug and heading to her room, mocha in tow. you follow her, your own cup only half-drunk, flicking off the lights as you do so.

“night y/n,” maya says softly as she pushes her door open, lingering slightly in the doorway. she watches you clumsily shoulder open your own door, opposite hers, waiting for you to reply.

“goodnight maya.”

—-

maya was already up when you emerged the next morning, early mornings always coming to her more easily than they did to you. she always looked so put together when she woke up, a stark contrast to your disheveled appearance. not that either of you cared - those boundaries of self-consciousness had long been washed away between the two of you. it was only maya after all.

“there’s coffee in the pot,” she mumbled, chewing her words around her cereal.

“thanks, you’re an angel.”

“you ready to head out in a bit?” maya asked, having now swallowed her mouthful. you groaned a little in jest, but maya’s bright eyes shone with humour, and you nodded.

“sure, sure - although you know it’s called a day off for a reason?”

“you agreed to it, plus you’ve had like a two hour lie-in.”

“i know, i’m actually feeling very well-rested.” you placed your cereal down, seating yourself across from maya with a grin, “it’s just more fun to moan at you.”

“glad to hear it,” maya smirked, taking another spoonful. she knew you well enough to know that your moaning was only ever lighthearted, and she was perfectly happy to indulge you. you liked that about her, liked how easy it was to settle into that playful teasing whenever you were around each other, which in fairness, was most of the time.

---

you walked barely a half-step behind maya, eyes focused on the imprints her shoes left in the rain-softened ground, but ears firmly locked onto her latest anecdote. she turned slightly to look at you as she talked, and when you laughed, she did too. she looked so comfortable when she laughed, the way her eyes crinkled and her head tilted back. walking alongside her, you felt equally light. she paused to fall in step with you, still smiling. the two of you made eye contact, and you couldn't help the way your smile grew. maya looked away, fiddling with the dog lead she held in her hands.

"by the way, the girls were talking about having dinner tonight at millie's, do you wanna go?" maya asked, eyes flickering over the trees that surrounded you, before eventually landing back on you. you shrugged, giving maya a guilty smirk.

"is it bad that i can't really be bothered?" you scrunched your nose up, but maya smirked back again, shaking her head. maybe you were imagining it, but her posture almost seemed to loosen, as if she were relieved. you didn't ponder it long though, because the splitsecond thought faded as soon as maya spoke, and your attention diverted back to solely her.

"no, me too!" she grinned conspiratorially, "i'm glad it's not just me - i love them and everything, but we see them literally all the time, i kind of just want a quiet night in."

"well, you see me all the time - better not be getting sick of me now le tissier?" you raised an eyebrow playfully. with anyone else, maya's words might have worried you, might have played on your insecurites of being too much, too overbearing. with anyone else, your reply might've been edging on serious, might've taken every inch of your body not to let your worries seep into your voice, but this was maya. you didn't have to worry about that with her, and so your tone was light, purely joking. maya's reply confirmed as much.

"oh god, like you wouldn't believe," maya countered back with a grin, before she cupped her hands around her mouth and called out to the empty woods around you, "somebody help! this fucking stalker won't leave me alone!"

the sound echoed through the trees, and you nudged her with your shoulder, hard enough to send her stumbling, feet slipping off the path and into the muddy ditch. you laughed, before wrapping a hand around her bicep and pulling her back to walk beside you. all this time, maya's grin never wavered, and she looked up at you, eyes shining.

"you’re such a dickhead, these trainers were clean earlier."

"that's on you for wearing white shoes to the woods to be honest."

maya rolled her eyes, before calling for mocha to come out of the same mud she'd just stepped into. you loved days like this, so familiar, so comfortable, where you and maya just slipped into playful teasing. it was this easy banter, the kind that comes with years of friendship, that made hanging out with maya so, well, easy.

"seriously, though," maya's voice was softer as she looked over at you, a little shyer. "i could never get sick of you - you're different." this side of her you loved too, the warm, gentle soul, always willing to extend a hand of comfort, or an olive branch.

"i could never get sick of you either maya."

she smiled back at you, and it was like the sun got a little brighter.

---

the rest of your day off had passed similarly, with shared smiles, inside jokes, and teasing banter, until you and maya found yourself collapsed next to each other on your shared sofa. the same positions as always - you curled up against one arm, maya reclined comfortably against the other, legs outstretched.

maya picked up her book, immediately immersed, but yours remained closed on your lap. you snuck a look at her, chewing your lip in thought, replaying the day in your mind.

it had been nice - as it always was with maya. you appreciated it, the quiet time with her, where you never had to do much except exist. maya gave you that - the freedom to just be.

your musing was interrupted by the harsh buzz of maya's phone against the coffee table.

"pass me that?" maya murmured, too engrossed in her book to even look up. you reached over, not without an exaggerated groan to hint at your displeasure at being made to move. maya kicked you as you held out the phone to her.

"shut up - can you just read it to me?"

you groaned again at being given the laborious task of unlocking her phone. opening her messages though, your attention piqued a little. the text from mary was innocuous at best, but it was maya's earlier messages that caught your eye.

"well," maya looked up at you expectantly, cutting you off from your thoughts, "who was it?"

"oh uh," you internally shook yourself a little, still a little confused at the messages, "just mary, she said, uh, she'll see you tomorrow."

"oh cool, thanks y/n," maya turned back to her book with a smile, a preoccupied air clouding her words. silently, you clicked maya's phone shut and placed it down, thoughts firing. you were a little perplexed - maya was never one to turn down plans, and especially not with made up excuses. she loved getting coffee with mary; they did it all the time. or at least, you realised, they used to.

you tried to think back to the last time maya had met mary for coffee. now you thought about, it must have been a while. your schedules were jam packed, and you and maya had spent pretty much every day off recently together. first you wondered if they'd had a falling out, but from the way they were texting you dismissed it quickly.

then it occurred to you, just briefly, that maybe maya was one to turn to down plans, and maybe you just hadn't noticed it, because she never did it with you. you shook your head. that wouldn't have made any sense. the dog walk earlier had probably just been one of the errands maya had mentioned, and she'd just asked you along for company.

yeah, you thought, slowly picking up your book, that was probably it.

words of affirmation

the thoughts flickered in your head the next morning, as maya picked up an extra coffee on your way to training. they stirred a little more as you watched maya interact with mary, searching for any irregularites, but finding none. they resurfaced again over the course of several days, as you noticed maya turn down coffee, then lunch, then dinner with various teammates. all in favour of just hanging out at home.

but this was maya, you thought, so she was a homebody, so what? who were you to judge, given that usually you'd also gladly take a calm night in at your flat over a hectic night out with the girls. the thoughts faded pretty quickly after that, and by the time sunday rolled around, they were pretty much nonexistent.

your attention focused instead on the game ahead of you. as with every week, the nerves seemed to roll inside you like waves cresting over one another, instead of neatly against the shore. it was something you'd never quite managed to shake, the overwhelming feeling of stress before a match, leaving you feeling disjointed, all jagged around the edges. it was fine usually, something you'd come to deal with. you'd learnt to take those feelings and channel them into fire.

nobody's perfect though. sometimes, you needed a helping hand. and true to form, maya could always tell when. no man is an island, as they say, and there was maya, always ready to leap into those stormy waters, paddle in hand, lifejacket on.

"hey you."

"hey," you sighed, looking over at maya as she sat down heavily next to you. you could tell maya didn't need a second look to understand how you were feeling. you gave a half-heartened smile.

"sorry," you murmured, trying to shake yourself out of it, "i'm all-"

"jittery?" maya filled in, soft smile gracing her features, "yeah, i know."

you nodded begrudgingly, taking a deep breath in. you wanted to speak, to explain more, but it was as though maya sensed you couldn't quite do it. she stepped in.

"hey, you got this okay? you always do."

you opened your mouth, but maya's gaze found yours, and you found yourself believing her. you were never really one for eye contact, but something about maya made it easy. maybe it was how kind her eyes looked, how knowing; like every thought or worry you'd ever had was reflected back in them - broken down, understood, seen. maybe it was just because they were pretty.

"nerves are good, remember? they mean you want to do well," maya echoed your mantra back to you, and you listened. words always sounded better coming from her.

"i know you'll play well, because you always do. you're a great player, you're tough, you're smart, you're good. there's no one else i'd rather have next to me on the pitch. the team trusts you. i trust you."

you nodded, pulling maya in for a hug. you closed your eyes, breathing her in. her breath tickled your neck as she whispered, "and if it goes wrong, i've got your back. always."

"thanks," you smiled, though she couldn't see it, "love you."

maya nodded, pulling back with a smile. her hand lingered on your thigh as you met her eyes once again. "let's smash it."

---

you did, in fact, smash it. the game went well, a perfect result - clean sheet and a win - and right at the heart of it, was you and maya. maya and you, ever solid, ever present. she was right, as she always was.

your defensive partnership had seeded itself from the early ages, when the two of you were young, shy kids in the england youth groups. it had blossomed and strengthened through your brazen teens, and now, finally together at club level, it was a force to be reckoned with.

you were both good players individually, but your closeness off the pitch was what cemented it as brilliant. you read each other so well, it was honestly sometimes scary. sometimes it felt like maya knew what you were going to do before you did. you often didn't even have to speak, but you did anyway, because it was maya, and you liked speaking to her. any excuse for a chat.

"see? told you you'd be fine," said maya as she sidled up next to you when you left the pitch. you elbowed her side and laughed.

"just fine? did you see that sick tackle i did?"

"hmm, mine was better," maya winked, and you rolled your eyes, pushing her into the changing rooms with a loud laugh.

---

the day ended as it always did: you and maya (and mocha) on the sofa, too worn out to do much else. today though, the tv was blaring, its sounds interspersed with your laughter and commentary of the godawful show maya had turned on.

"can you believe this shit?" you laughed, turning to look at maya, "why are we watching it?" she rolled her eyes.

"because its funny, shut up."

"and because you fancy the main character." you gave maya a sly smirk, which she returned with an eyeroll.

"maybe..." then she grinned widely, "can you blame me?"

"nah, i get it."

you laughed, reclining back into the sofa. mocha gave you a disgruntled look as you pulled your feet up to rest in maya's lap, nudging him from where he lay. you turned back to the show. okay so maybe you were a little invested now. feeling eyes on you though, you looked back to realise maya hadn't done the same.

"what?" you smiled.

"nothing," if you didn't know better, you'd say maya looked a little sheepish. you weren't sure why. you gave her a questioning look, complete with raised eyebrow, "just zoned out a little."

you shrugged and nodded, half turning back to the tv. maya, however, seemed to want to say more.

"your, uh, your hair looks nice like that," she said. you tried to meet her eyes, but her gaze was back fixed on the tv.

"oh, thanks," you murmured, a little surprised. not at the compliment - maya gave you them all the time - but more at her tone. it was soft, borderline shy. you weren't sure why she was being weird.

"you should wear it down more often," maya looked back at you, and just like that her usual easy smile back, her brief awkwardness now dissipated.

"i mean i would if i could - having it up for training all the time kills my head."

"god same," maya gave an exaggerated whine, and the laughter was back, "i'm not going to have a hairline by the time i'm 25."

---

by the next morning, you barely remembered the compliment, having gone on to spend the rest of the night fixated on that stupid tv show, admittedly only to loudly debate the attractiveness of each character with maya.

it was only when you reflexively went to put your hair up that it crossed your mind again. you made pensive eye contact with yourself in the mirror, before gently placing the hairband down. no particular reason.

it seemed mary had finally managed to corral maya into getting coffee, and so she was nearly out the door by the time you headed into the kitchen for breakfast. digging around in her bag for her car keys, she looked up at you briefly, smiling in small greeting.

"you doing anything today?" she asked, and you shook your head, fully intent on just relaxing on your day off, "i'll be back in a couple hours, shall i pick up a few bits for lunch?"

"sounds good," you nodded, although your attention was very much focused on finding yourself some breakfast first.

"cool," maya shrugged on her jacket hurriedly, only pausing at the door to call back over her shoulder, "that outfit looks really good on you by the way!"

you barely even had time to look up before she was gone.

---

you'd be lying if you said the compliment didn't put a little spring in your step for the rest of the morning. you told yourself it was just the same as any old compliment, but there was a niggling feeling that it was made that much sweeter just because it came from maya. two compliments in two days - you were being spoiled.

although now you thought about it, maybe it wasn't that out of the ordinary. you'd intended to spend your free morning slothing out on the sofa, maybe catching up on the shows you'd missed, or finishing the book you'd been neglecting of late. instead, you found yourself thinking back on your many interactions with maya.

the more you thought, the more you realised just how often maya said nice things to you. for all the two of you teased and joked, you could pick out a dozen examples just this week of maya complimenting you - superficial things like your hair, your clothes, your make-up, but not just that.

on the pitch, you realised, she would frequently offer words of appreciation, calling out that you'd done well in a drill as she ran past you, patting you on the back as she congratulated you on a tackle, a block, a pass. even beyond that, just yesterday in an interview she'd said you were her favourite person to play with. the day before that she'd mentioned how much she loved being around you.

the moments, all seemingly inocuous at the time, now seemed to pile up before your eyes. linking them all together was the warm feeling you felt whenever she'd say something, and the soft smile she'd offer in return. you sipped your coffee slowly, a startling thought dawning on you - were you a compliment whore?

with this newfound information about yourself, you tried to think of compliments you'd been given by others, but surprisingly came up short. with a jolt, you realised you didn't remember because in all honesty, you didn't really care. it was only maya's opinion that mattered.

this realisation was somewhat startling, and you didn't quite know what to do with it. you knew from past experience that you often had a tendency to come up with wild fantasies, to see things that weren't quite there when it came to romance. you shut down the thoughts, refused to think about what it might mean. maya was your best friend, of course you wanted her to think highly of you. it didn't mean anything.

you pushed the thoughts away, locking them up for a rainy day. this is why you shouldn't be left alone - you started thinking. as maya had joked to you many times before; that was dangerous.

the door opened, and maya appeared, laden with bags.

"this doesn't look like just 'a few bits', maya," you grinned, watching her struggle for a second before standing to help.

"shut up," she said, watching as you took the, admittedly heavy, bags and placed them on the counter. she walked past you, squeezing your upper arm in the process, "nice biceps."

you made a playful show of flexing them, and tried not to think about the warm feeling that swelled up inside you. the realisation that you'd do pretty much anything to get her to compliment you again hit you like a slap to the face.

physical touch

thoughts and feelings continued to rattle around inside you for the next few days. now that you'd opened the floodgates, it was getting harder and harder to deny the brewing thoughts that accompanied every single thing maya did. you tried endlessly to push them back down, adamant that you just saw her as a friend. and it worked, if only for a little while.

the thing is, the harder you tried, the more you denied it, maya had this uncanny way of worming her way back into your heart. you supposed it was a side effect of her being just so, well, perfect.

you told yourself it was only because she was your best friend, your, strictly platonic, soulmate. these past few weeks however, try as you might, you couldn't deny that, just maybe, you were developing a crush.

maybe you had been for a while.

you tried to ignore it, but every day you registered a new thing that dragged you down a little deeper. maya could make you smile by just being around you. maya could say exactly what you needed to hear. every word was like a breath of fresh air, every look was warm sunlight, and every touch was a spark of electricity.

and, as you'd recently realised, there was a lot of touching. you and maya were touchy friends, the kind who had no qualms about casual embraces or friendly physicality. you'd never noticed it before, probably because it had never meant anything before, but lately you noticed just how frequently maya sought out your touch.

the first time you'd really registered it, you'd been out at a bar with the girls, celebrating the latest win. you hadn't quite realised the extent of your feelings, still in the early phases of filtering through what they all meant, and steadfastly denying most of them.

the air was warm and stuffy, contributing to that heady feeling of the alcohol catching up with you. you leant against the bar, watching the girls gathered together in a booth, their raucous laughter audible even from where you stood. you tried to ignore how your eyes unconsciously shifted back over to maya, or how her laughter seemed to stand out as louder than the rest.

your thoughts were cut off by a rough hand grazing your waist. you shifted out of the stranger's grasp, but there wasn't much leeway at the packed bar.

"you here alone, sweetheart?" you took another small step back as the man turned to you. his heavy scent of beer and sweat clung in the air, almost suffocating.

"no, i'm with friends, thanks," you muttered, trying to make eye contact with the bartender so you could get your drinks and go.

"i'm sure they wouldn't mind if you found some other company..." his rough hand reached out to touch your hand, and you grimaced, pulling away.

"i'm okay thanks."

"at least let a guy buy a pretty girl a drink."

you were just considering leaving the bar altogether when you felt another arm slink around your waist. this one, however, was soft and slight, and welcome. you sank backwards, letting the familiar smell of vanilla shampoo envelope you.

"she's already got one, thank you." maya's voice was firm, and you let her drag you away, back to the table. she passed you a drink, her arm still comfortably tight around your waist.

"you okay?" she asked, voice low and concerned, as you both sank into your seats. you nodded, trying to regain a bit of clarity.

"yeah thanks, fucking creep," you shot a quick glance over to the bar, where the guy still remained, before looking back into maya's concerned eyes and nodding again, "thanks for the drink."

"no problem - just, stay with me for the rest of the night, yeah?" you nodded, having no intention of doing any different. maya's expression flickered protectively, making her eyes look several shades darker.

it was only a little later, when you were halfway through your drink and had all but forgotten your vile encounter, that you registered that maya still hadn't moved her arm. you were unaware if she even knew herself, the both of you now comfortably drunk. the two of you were pressed up against one another in the booth, her fingers stroking absentmindedly at where your shirt had ridden up. an unbidden shiver ran through you, your sudden awareness making each touch feel like a static shock.

"you okay?" maya must have noticed the way you tensed up, because she turned to you, lazy smile clouded with inebriety. you could only nod. shaking yourself internally, you resolved yourself to dealing with your feelings tomorrow, and sank back into her. you leant heavily into her, missing the way her soft smile grew as you did. maya didn't move her hand all night.

when you woke the next morning, it was to a headache and hazy memories of the early hours. you dragged yourself to lie on the sofa, only after downing some water and painkillers.

maya joined you some time later, looking equally worse for wear. she sluggishly filled her water bottle, before trudging over to the sofa.

"i knew those jagers were a bad move," she groaned.

"i distinctly remember you saying the complete opposite last night," you laughed, opening your arms for her. you didn't think much of it as you did, but when maya collapsed on top of you for a hug, the memories of last night flooded back. you couldn't argue with the warmth that flooded your body as maya nestled on top of you. it was time to accept that you felt more for her than any friend should.

"you should've stopped me," she groaned into your chest, her arms wriggling their way around your back. you swallowed, before deciding, perhaps stupidly, to just give into it. you'd deal with the consequences of falling for her later.

"i tried! you called me boring then bought another round," you laughed, your hand coming up to rest on her back.

"oops," you felt maya grin into your chest, "what are you watching?"

"just shitty tv," you replied, "wanna change it?"

"nah, i'm okay," her reply was muffled, and you nodded, stroking her back softly. as you felt maya's breathing even out, you had a sinking feeling that there was no going back now.

---

from then, it was like a switch had been flicked. whereas before, you'd barely noticed all maya's hugs and touches, now, each one seared itself permanently into your brain - and your skin.

some of the touches were accidental, you assumed, maya brushing up against you as she walked past, or her thigh pressed up against yours as you sat together in the changing room.

others were obviously intentional - maya playing with your hair as you lay on the sofa, or placing a casual arm around your shoulder during training, maya leaning her head on your shoulder during team talks, or taking your hand to drag you around behind her. and of course, the most frequent of all, the hugs that punctuated pretty much every single interaction you had.

it would be a lie to say you didn't enjoy it, but now that you'd had to accept why each touch meant a little more, sometimes it bordered on some kind of glorious torture.

there were also other instances, where you were unsure if maya even meant the touches or not, her actions hanging precariously in the balance between conscious and absentminded. as her hand grazed the small of your back for the countless time that morning though, you were starting to suspect it wasn't all entirely accidental.

this gave way to another problem though, in that it was getting harder and harder for you to deal with, without melting each time she so much as touched you, or breathed in your direction.

it didn't help that you were starting to notice how naturally flirtatious maya could be. if you weren't certain that maya didn't have an evil bone in her body, you'd almost believe she was doing it on purpose. luckily, you knew maya was absolutely unaware of her nature, and this was just something she did with everyone. sucks for you.

the unfortunate thing about having a crush on your best friend is that you find yourself accidentally staring at them far too often. it was no surprise, then, that a lot of your free time was allocated to observing maya. any time you weren't sneaking glances at her you spent thinking of ways to make it not obvious that you were sneaking glances at her.

okay, so yes, you definitely needed to get over her, but you could allow yourself some indugences, right?

the thing was, you were starting to observe new things about maya. firstly, the way she always threw her head back when she laughed, properly laughed. secondly, the way she'd play with her ring whenever she was either nervous, or bored. and thirdly, that maya was not actually a naturally flirtatious person.

contrary to what you'd been firmly telling yourself, maya was not like this with everyone. sure she was still touchy, but the longer you watched, the more you noticed the differences in how she acted with the others, and how she acted with you.

---

the uncharacteristic spring heat clung in the afternoon air around you, disturbed only by the occasional breeze. you paused your run down the field, sensing that maya had the play under control, and had gone herself. you dropped back slightly to cover her, watching her recieve the ball and expertly pass it on to lucia, who was straight through on goal. you didn't need to hear the way the crowd exploded to know she'd scored.

you pumped your fist and watched as the girls further upfield swarmed one another, but even from where you stood you could pick out maya amongst them. you took note of the way she hugged lucia, the way she clapped the other girls on the back, filed the images away in your mind.

maya jogged back towards you, so you grinned and held out a hand to congratulate her on the assist. you noted the way her smooth palm clasped yours, and the firmness of her grasp as she pulled you into her. you'd seen how she'd hugged the others, firm and fast, clapping them twice on the back before pulling away.

the way she hugged you, the way your body slid into hers, just seemed different. this was steady, grounding. her arms seemed to envelope you, slotting you gently into place, and when she pulled away her hands lingered, fingers smoothing out your shirt collar, her touch feather-soft. it seemed like more.

you tried to ignore it, really you did, but when the final whistle blew and her hand found yours, you couldn't help but wonder. you compared the way she congratulated the others on the win, all friendly grins and joking pushes. sure, she did that with you too, but with you it always seemed a little softer, a little longer. you started to wonder if all those casual touches you'd labelled as accidental were anything but. maya didn't seem to do that with anyone else.

you must've been reading too much into it, you eventually decided. maya was probably just more relaxed around you since you were best friends. you were just getting ahead of yourself, thoughts clouded by your unhelpful crush, seeing things you wanted to see. surely.

that's what you told yourself as maya sat next to you in the changing room, her fingers brushing your thigh.

gift giving

you sighed, running your hand down your face. your thoughts had been running hard and fast since the game yesterday, and you were desperate to think of anything else. you'd spent the day trying to busy yourself, but it was a difficult feat given that you and maya had still spent the day joined at the hip.

it had been hard to not think about it when you walked the dog together and her arm kept bumping up against yours. it had been hard when you'd gone out for lunch and she'd loaded you with covert compliments. it had been even harder when she'd bought you a coffee, completely unprompted, your order memorised to a tee.

as much as you loved spending time with maya, you were somewhat grateful that she'd since headed to the shops alone, giving you a slight reprieve. it couldn't be healthy, reading far too much into situations that were clearly just based off years of friendship.

"i'm home!" the shout echoed around the flat, and you swivelled in your seat with a smile that you just couldn't help. maya dumped the bags then padded towards you. "close your eyes, i got you a present."

"should i be worried?" knowing maya she was probably about to put something absolutely ridiculous in your hands, but you dutifully did as she asked anyway.

you felt the crinkle of packaging as your hands closed around the mystery item. you opened your eyes cautiously, but your heart melted a little as you saw a packet of your favourite sweets.

"for me?" you asked, slightly confused. maya nodded, eyes sparkling, "aw thanks," your voice was genuine, if a little perplexed, "uh, why?"

maya shrugged, flopping down onto the sofa next to you, "why not?"

you smiled, glad maya couldn't see you blush. pulling the packet open, you held it out to maya, who popped one into her mouth, then leant her head against your shoulder.

---

it was a few days later that you realised the sweets weren't an isolated incident. in the past week alone she'd brought home coffee for you (three times), some chocolate you liked (twice), a new waterbottle (yours was always leaking and it was apparently 'doing her head in'), a mug that she thought you'd like, and a small stuffed crab that she said reminded her of you (that one had definitely been a dig, but you chose to ignore it). for a second you had a worry that you'd forgotten your own birthday.

it seemed like every time maya left the house, she came back with some little snack that she knew you liked, or some trinket that 'made her think of you'. she was like a fucking magpie.

you said as much to mary at lunch, maya having just deposited her protein bar that she 'didn't want' in your lap. it just so happened to be your favourite flavour.

"sorry, am i hearing things, or are you complaining about getting free food?"

"i'm not complaining! i'm just... confused," in fairness, you weren't even sure what you were confused about. mostly you just wanted to vent about your crush - without actually having to own up to the whole crush thing. "and it's not just food! yesterday we walked the dog on the beach and she kept collecting pretty stones for me,"

"well, you know, it's maya, she's not much of a talker."

"what? maya talks all the time," you looked at mary incredulously. maya had literally just been chatting her ear off.

"no, i mean she's not much of a talker," she gave you a knowing look, and you just stared back, even more confused now. mary rolled her eyes, "about her feelings, idiot."

"what's that got to do with anything?"

"god, the pair of you are as thick as each other." mary slapped your shoulder and then rose from her seat, leaving you staring after her, more lost than ever.

---

it was only when maya tried to pay for your dinner the next day, that you wondered if mary was suggesting that maya had feelings for you. you tried not to even entertain the thought, because regardless of how much you wanted it to be true, you knew it couldn't, wouldn't end well.

the smallest part of you, the sensible part, the part not yet utterly consumed by all things maya, knew that you'd only be getting your hopes up. as much as it hurt to pine after maya like this, any sort of rejection would hurt far, far more. and so, you ignored and dismissed it. there was no way that someone like maya could ever fall for someone like you.

maya's actions were purely platonic, you decided. she was a good friend, and that was the end of it. that was what you convinced yourself, that was what you repeated as a mantra every time you looked at the little crab toy that maya had placed beside your bed, 'to keep you company'.

that was what you tried your best to believe when maya came into the kitchen the next day, hands behind her back. you looked up from cooking with a soft smile and a raised eyebrow. she looked back at you, almost shyly.

"i, uh, i thought you might like these," maya didn't make eye contact with you as she thrust a modest, yet beautiful, bunch of daffodils towards you. your heart melted, and you tried desperately to not let your mind run away with itself. still though, you couldn't help it. maybe, just maybe, maya felt something for you too.

your mind lit up with possibilities, with fantasies, with dreams. maybe this was the moment you'd dreamed of. maybe she was about to confess, to ask you on a date, maybe-

"you know, for the flat," maya said hurriedly. maybe not, "the shop was uh, they were going to bin them so they were on clearance, they might be a bit manky," maya trailed off, still avoiding eye contact.

you tried not to let yourself get disappointed. this was exactly why you shouldn't get head of yourself. reaching out to take them, you smiled and inspected them. there didn't seem anything wrong with them at all.

"no, they're lovely," the emotion crept into your voice despite yourself, and you had to clear your throat, "uh, for the flat - they'll look lovely in the flat."

maya smiled and met your eyes, properly this time. for a split second the shyness was gone, just pure, honest maya. then she swallowed, turned, and hurried out the room.

acts of service

the thing about trying to get over maya, was that she made it so fucking difficult. how were you meant to forget about someone who treated you so perfectly, who could do no wrong, who regularly went out of their way to do things for you? how were you supposed to do anything other than fall in love?

so you stopped denying it, and instead you justified it. you let the full delusion of falling for your best friend overtake you, and let maya's endless perfection drag you deeper and deeper each day.

now that you'd accepted maya didn't see you like that, every day felt like a constant bombardment of kind gestures. the worst part was, you could never ever hate it. that was the thing with maya - she didn't even realise how good she was.

and so, you did the only thing you knew how to. you started to withdraw from maya. not majorly, not enough that she would notice, of course, just enough distance to give yourself a little time to get your head straight.

distance had never really factored into your close friendship before though, and maya was unwavering in her presence. it was like she had a sixth sense for when there was something weighing on you, and she made it her mission to help ease that load.

"hey, i made you a cuppa," maya knocked lightly on your open door and poked her head around. you couldn't help but smile genuinely at the gesture, "i'm doing some washing, you want me to do yours too?"

"oh, thank you, is that okay?" you asked hesitantly, and maya nodded. you slid off your bed and began to gather the dirty washing that lay strewn across your floor. you were never too great at keeping your room tidy on the best of days, but whenever your mind ran away from you, it was always the first thing to deteriorate. of course, maya knew this.

"yeah course," maya placed the tea down on your bedside table, then perched in her usual position on your bed to watch you. "you okay?"

there was a slight waver in her voice, and you could read her so well that you immediately recognised it as concern, laced with a tiny bit of anxiety. you knew maya, knew her mind would worry. you didn't want her to blame herself, and instantly you felt bad.

arms now laden with clothes, you straightened and nodded, "yeah sorry, just tired." then, seeing the soft smile on maya's face, you couldn't keep it up much longer, "i'm coming in now anyway, you want to watch something?"

maya smiled, taking the clothes from you, "sounds good, give me five minutes!"

sighing, you watched her leave. well, your plan didn't last long. picking up the tea, you followed her into the living room. distance clearly wasn't going to work.

---

"hey, maya?" you called hurriedly, rummaging through your cupboard. she hummed in response, "have you seen my-"

"your boots?" maya appeared in the doorway, holding out your shoes with a smirk, "they were dirty as hell so i cleaned them for you."

"oh," you blushed, "thank you," you took them from her, almost reverently. she was just too good for you.

"now let's go - we're gonna be late!"

you followed her out the door, taking a deep breath in. you were already stressed, you had so much to do, and if maya was going to be this sweet to you all day, you were worried you might just keel over and die.

---

"i'll make dinner tonight, okay?"

you nodded, peeling off your soaked through socks with a wince. maya sat next to you in the changing room, already showered and dressed, her hand placed comfortingly on your thigh. training, as expected, had been awful, it was cold, wet, and your mind had been occupied. you knew you'd played crap, but coach had so kindly reminded you multiple times, leaving you to run an extra few laps once training was done.

you only had yourself to blame. things with maya were just piling up, everything else seemed to be going wrong, and it was taking all your effort to keep yourself sane without upsetting her. distance might've been the easy way out, but there wasn't a chance in hell that you'd do anything to make maya feel guilty, or worried.

all you wanted was to have a warm shower, go home and collapse on the sofa, preferably next to maya. unfortunately, your agent had other plans, and you were required at some media thing before you could relax. you sighed at the thought. you had so much to do this weekend too, plus your room needed cleaning, the mess having steadily piled up from the stress of it all.

and now here was maya, ever thoughtful, offering to cook dinner, even though it was your turn tonight. she was so sweet, you could almost cry. you took a deep breath, turning to look at her.

"you're the best maya." she smiled in response, and squeezed your thigh, before standing.

"i know, now go shower, you look like shit."

only maya could pull a laugh out of you at times like this. you nodded, and dragged yourself dutifully to the shower, wishing you could fast forward the next two hours so you could just go home.

---

the media stuff, as expected, had been shit. sure, some people enjoyed that kind of thing, but to you it felt like being paraded around like a dancing bear, just being poked and prodded with sticks. okay, maybe you were exagerrating, but today had just been really, really shitty, and you wanted to go home.

you fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the rain, before finally, thankfully, managing to push the door open. you stepped inside, soaking in the warmth, and the smell of maya's cooking. your eyes adjusted to the low, orange light, and you felt yourself relax almost immediately.

there was low music coming from the kitchen, and you could hear maya humming gently along. hoisting your heavy bag a little further up your shoulder, you elbowed open your bedroom door, before stopping in your tracks.

your eyes widened as you took in your room - what had earlier resembled a bomb site now looked cleaner than you'd ever seen it. there were even candles lit on the desk, filling the room with flickering shadow and the comforting smell of vanilla. maya's vanilla.

you heard hurried footsteps behind you, before you felt maya come to a stop behind you. you couldn't quite bring yourself to turn around, for fear of her seeing the emotion threatening to spill out of your eyes at such a small, but meaningful, gesture.

"i, um, i tidied your room for you," maya sounded tentative, nervous even. she rushed to continue. "i just knew you'd had a rough day and i know your room gets messy when you're stressed so i just wanted to help, i hope you don't mind," you didn't know what to say, it was so small, but it felt like the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for you.

when you didn't reply maya spoke again, quieter this time, "i'm sorry, did i do the wrong thing?"

at maya's apology, you spun to face her, rapidly shaking your head.

"no, maya, i- thank you," you rushed to placate her, not wanting her to worry. your voice was choked, full of feeling. you pulled her into a hug, and she breathed an audible sigh of relief, as though she had been expecting you to be angry.

you held on tighter than you should've. you couldn't think of any other way to convey your thanks. it was such a tiny gesture, but to you, it meant everything. after such an awful day, maya had gone out of her way just to make things a little lighter. something she knew you struggled with when you were stressed, and she'd just helped you like it was nothing. you couldn't put it into words.

you'd never felt so loved.

you paused, pulling out of the hug, deep in thought, because that was exactly it. you thought back to why you were so desperate to get over maya, driven by fear of repeating the past, full of failed relationships and heartbreak.

before, in relationships, you'd always been filled with doubt. they'd said the words, sure, but how were you ever meant to be certain that they meant them? you'd keep yourself awake at night, worrying if they were serious, until either they proved you right, or your insecurites drove them away.

but here, with maya, it felt different. all that doubt, all that insecurity, you realised you've never felt like that with maya. all of a sudden, and with some certainty, you realised you've known for quite some time.

you think back to all the gifts, all the touches, all the time and the looks, the actions and the words, and you realise there's never been any lingering doubt. maya has shown you time and time again that she loves you. now you had some catching up to do.

"hey maya?" she hums, already moving to leave your room. ordinarily, you would never have been this bold, this confident. ordinarily, you would've been twisting your fingers in anxiety, stuttering out the words. right now, however, you had never been so sure.

"i love you too."

you've said those words countless times to her, but you know it's different now. you can tell maya can tell from the tone of your voice too, because when she looks up at you there's no confusion, only eyes swimming with hope, and pure, deep, boundless affection.

you reach out and pull her towards you, so your faces are barely inches apart. her eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes.

"i um, i didn't say-" her voice is low and hoarse, and she cuts herself off, because you both know its not true. tension ripples around you, until you can't stand it. when her eyes flicker down a second time, you close the gap. her lips are soft, and she lets out a pleased little gasp as you kiss her softly.

"yeah, you did," you smile, and maya returns it, "you say it everyday."

this is actually so shit i'm sorry, the idea's been in my drafts for literal months, i wanted to do it justice bc mlt deserves all the love but i hate like at least half of this lmao it got so repetitive i'm sorry

all love, soph xx

#yes i know love languages are a scam designed by a misogynist to force women into subservient marriages #but its a good format for a fic #i hope #maya le tissier x reader #woso x reader #muwfc x reader #maya le tissier imagine #maya le tissier

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fistfuloflightning · 9 months

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”Hashirama thinks—“ “I already know what he thinks. I want to know what you think. You were Hashirama’s shadow when you were Senju Tobirama. But you’re an Uchiha now, and that means standing at my side, and not in my shadow. This village is as much your making as it is mine or Hashirama’s.” Tobirama remained silent, red eyes fixed unseeing on her cup. Madara knew the peace haunted her in a way it didn’t the others. Her sole purpose for existence was no longer there and she was learning there was more to life than constant vigilance and a kunai in hand. And she was terrified of it.

#was digging through my old unpublished fics and found this little snippet in my madatobi folder #doubt I’ll ever publish it but it’s a comfort writing exercise #the daimyo forces senju/uchiha peace and butsuma offers an arranged marriage between tobi and mads #intending her to break the peace/help destroy the uchihas from the inside #but she’s more loyal to her brother and his dreams and becomes reluctant allies with mads to take down her dad #I wasn’t sure where I was going with the fic but I might keep working on it #naruto #madatobi #uchiha madara #senju tobirama #female tobirama #my art #naruto art #my writing

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twistedappletree · 5 months

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Arranged marriage zhuiling AU where instead of being arranged to marry each other, Jiang Cheng keeps trying to set Jin Ling up with random girls from other clans after Jin Ling mentions he’s interested in marrying ‘someone’ because he doesn’t know Jin Ling meant Lan Sizhui, so Jin Ling keeps doing the most ridiculously annoying and unappealing things to scare off every girl who comes to Koi Tower and Jiang Cheng is ripping his hair out because you little brat, you said you wanted to get married???

Eventually, both of them are so exhausted from the miscommunication that Jiang Cheng investigates and finally finds out what’s wrong, then tells Jin Ling he has one more potential spouse for him to meet. Jin Ling is a pouting lackluster mess over it until his entire world stops when the doors to Koi Tower open and Lan Sizhui walks through.

#zhuiling #lingzhui #fic ideas #will probably actually write this soon ngl ahahaHAHAHA #poor JC not know wtf is going on #i feel like it’s more IC of him to actually think he’s helping instead of trying to force JL to marry anyone #bc he does love him and wants him to be happy #but both of them are so shit at communicating and JL is never gonna admit he likes LSZ to his uncle #so JC has to do his own digging to find out 😭#zhuiling musings #ok but what if JC finds out JL and LSZ love each other through Jingyi #lmfAOOOOO #Jingyi’s just like ‘your stupid moody niece is in love with my best friend you dumb purple slut’#ffffuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUCCCCKKKK AHAHAHAHA #apple babble 🍎#mdzs au #arranged marriage au #married aspec ZhuiLing would be so cute tho I think about it a lotttttt 😭✨🌸

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yandere-writer-momo · 11 months

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🌶️ Yandere Baki Shorts:

Mine 🌶️

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Afab reader x Kizaki

I wanted to do something a little darker. A little smutty. So you have this monstrosity of 5.5k words.

Kaoru is about 24/25 in this.

Also! Did you know most men want to be with women who are like their moms? (Weird)

Minors DNI

TW: stalking, yandere behavior, uncomfortable themes, misogyny, mommy issues, forced marriage, dubcon, and forced voyeurism

…………………………………………….

Kizaki was doing it again, Kaoru noted. His dark eyes observing his right hand man smiling at the lucent screen. Just what has been so interesting to him over these last few months that he was failing to listen to his words?

“Kizaki?” Kizaki nearly dropped his phone from his hand when Kaoru’s deep voice rung throughout the limousine. “What is so interesting?”

Kizaki’s eyes dart to the steering wheel, sweat pooling down his back in nervousness. Should he tell his boss he’s been seeing someone? That he met a wonderful young woman while out on a food run for Kaoru a few months back?

“Kizaki.” Kaoru’s tone is stern, his gaze now narrowed. This wasn’t like Kizaki. The older man was usually quite diligent with his job but as of late, he’s been giggling like a schoolgirl at his phone. A rosy blush now spotted on his tanned cheeks and he seemed more at ease as of late… was he sick?

“I can’t hide anything from you, boss…” Kizaki rubs the back of his neck. “I have a girlfriend.”

Something broke in Kaoru’s head like a glass vase from Kizaki’s words. Kizaki had a girlfriend… a girlfriend. A girlfriend before Kaoru.

A silence consumed the limousine, the tension so thick that it could be sliced with a knife. Kizaki hadn’t meant to make things awkward…

“She must be an amazing woman.” Kaoru mutters softly under his breath. He should be happy that Kizaki was seeing someone… and yet, he was jealous. Kaoru couldn’t keep a girlfriend for more than a month.

And it always fell back on him. His life was too dangerous, he was too emotionless, he wasn’t romantic enough, he was too much in bed, or he was too controlling. Kaoru was too much for a girl and he just accepted it. He was never going to find anyone to love someone like him.

Yet… he craved it. He wanted a woman as wonderful as his mother. A beautiful,demure woman who would listen to him and comfort him… it was unrealistic, he knew that. Kaoru has only truly adored one woman in his life and that was his mother. No other woman could compare to her, at least the ones he’s been around as of late.

“Boss? I apologize for not telling you sooner.” Kizaki snaps Kaoru from his daze. The yakuza boss clearing his throat. How unprofessional of him to get lost in his own musings while his most trusted man shared a bit of his personal life with him.

“It’s alright… I understand.” Kaoru trailed off, his attention turning to the bustling city streets. He was getting into his emotions again, he needed to calm down before they spilled out. “You’re allowed to have a life outside of me.”

Kizaki smiles sadly at his boss. He has always been worried about Kaoru. The younger man just seemed lonelier as the years dragged on… ever since his mother’s passing.

“If there’s anything you want or anything I can do for you, let me know.” Kizaki smiles warmly at his boss.

Oh how those words were going to bite him back…

Kaoru noticed Kizaki buying a bouquet of roses every so often as the seasons went by. The soft red petals reminding him of a distant memory of his mother. She was always so fond of the prickly, aromatic flowers. But their beauty could never compare to hers… he missed her everyday.

“Is she fond of them?” Kaoru asks, his dark eyes glancing into Kizaki’s through the rear view mirror. The older man smiling at him.

“Yes. I personally peel off the thorns for her. Delicate flowers for my delicate lady.” Kizaki says more to himself than Kaoru. “She deserves only the best…”

Kaoru clenched his fist tightly. The skin on his hand now a pale white. He shouldn’t be jealous of Kizaki, he truly shouldn’t. It’s not as if he desired Kizaki’s woman. It was more of a fact that Kizaki had found love despite his criminal status while Kaoru himself still struggled.

Kaoru was in his mid twenties now and he had yet to have a long term partner.

Women came and went out of his life. Whether they were a date for the night or someone to warm his bed, nothing ever came from his numerous attempts at companionship. Romance was an entirely different story all together. He wasn’t a romantic nor was he good at comfort. He was a man who was hardened by the horrors in his life and there was no one willing to patiently wait for him to open up… there was no one who ever tried to love him… love is what he truly desired deep down.

Perhaps that’s why he drowned himself in liquor, crimes, and fights. Just a bit of serotonin and he would be okay. Just another shot of adrenaline and he wouldn’t think about it. Hanayama Kaoru didn’t need anyone or anything. He was too proud to ever admit aloud that he was lonely.

“Boss? You seem a bit quieter than normal.” Kizaki piped up from the driver’s seat. Quieter than normal? Kaoru was quiet in general. “What’s on your mind?”

Kaoru opened his mouth to speak before he ultimately decided to shut it. He wouldn’t trouble Kizaki with his woes. He didn’t want to ruin the man’s night with his girlfriend. Kizaki didn’t have to always put Kaoru above himself. The older man has loyally served Kaoru for years now. The man deserved a life outside of the Hanayama family.

“It’s nothing.” Yes… it was nothing.

Kaoru felt his stomach drop when he caught a glimpse of a young woman holding Kizaki’s arm across the street. Who was she?

“Oh that’s Kizaki’s girlfriend, (your name).” One of his men shared with a smile. It was as if he read Kaoru’s mind. A hand was then placed on his shoulder. “She’s a really pretty thing.”

Kaoru droned out his men’s words other than her name. Her name was even pretty… Kaoru observed Kizaki and her laugh together. She looked so gentle… so unlike the women he attracts. How did Kizaki find her?

Kaoru watched Kizaki speak to her before the man noticed Kaoru across the street. Kizaki then whispered something in her ear, the young woman turning to glance over in Kaoru’s direction.

(Eye color) eyes meeting smoldering obsidian eyes for the first time. Kaoru’s breath was stuck in his throat when she gave him a smile so bright, it felt like he was hit with a ray of sunshine.

Kaoru nearly choked on his spit, his eyes memorizing her facial structure and expression. This was the first time a woman has ever happily greeted him…

Kaoru shook his head. This was wrong. He couldn’t be pinning after his best friend’s girlfriend…

Kaoru gave a small wave back before he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

Kaoru would not let this crush grow anymore… it wouldn’t end well for Kizaki.

Kaoru couldn’t get her out of his head. Her face haunting his dreams… her smile appearing every time he shut his eyes. She was inescapable and it was hell.

(Your name) looked just like a dream to him… his mind was making her into some romanticized version of herself and he just couldn’t stop the delusions from overtaking his mind. Kaoru found himself increasingly slipping through the cracks of reality and into his fantasies.

Kaoru ran his fingers through his hair and sighed loudly. What was the point in fixating on her if he could not have her? He was a horrible person for even having indecent thoughts about Kizaki’s girlfriend. How could he not be jealous? Was he that unlovable?

Kaoru could feel his eyes water a bit but he shook his head to stop them from falling. Men don’t cry.

Yet today was a day he would allow himself to wallow in self pity. It was the anniversary of his mother’s death and just like every year before this one, he was determined to visit her grave.

The limousine came to a stop at the cemetery, Kaoru exiting the vehicle in a timely fashion. A giant bouquet of red roses in his large hands.

“Are you sure you don’t need any guards?” Kizaki asks from the driver’s seat. The older man’s eyes filled with worry.

“I’m not a child, Kizaki. I’ll be fine.” Kaoru reassured his friend. Even if something did happen to him, it’s not like Kaoru couldn’t handle it. He danced with death so often, it became a dance routine.

“Alright… I’ll be back in an hour to get you.” Kizaki then drove off, leaving Kaoru behind.

The yakuza boss made his way up the cobblestone step until the graves because more and more familiar. His eyes watery once they landed on his mother’s grave. A grim reminder that she was gone…

The sky was cloudy and a light drizzle kissed his skin with each step until he stood in front of the elegant monument that held his mother under it.

“Hello, mom…”

Kaoru knelt in front of the grave stone and placed the roses beside the angel shaped tombstone. He reached into his suit jacket to pull out a lighter to light some incense. The tears were slowly starting to fall from his stone cold face.

Kaoru’s ears picked up a soft humming. He turned his head and noticed a familiar young woman kneeling at another grave across the rows of tombstones. A modest white dress on her form as she knelt on the grass. A stain no doubt would be on her knees, but to Kaoru, she still looked like a fairy.

She slowly turned to face him once she noticed his presence. (Eye color) eyes meeting obsidian once more, this time at closer proximity.

Her eyes widened at his tears. The young woman getting up and slowly making her way towards him as if he was some injured wild animal. And perhaps in her mind, he was. Kaoru couldn’t be certain of what she was thinking, he wasn’t a mind reader.

It was when she knelt before him that he could hear his heart drumming in his head. Thump. Badump. Thump.

Time slowed down when she placed her small hands on his scarred cheeks and wiped the trail of tears from his face. This had to be a dream… there was no way she was really before him… and then she hugged him. Her small barely fitting around his waist as she pulled him into a warm embrace.

Kaoru sucked in a shaky breath when her warm skin met his. The scent of roses lulling him into a dream like state of relaxation. Her body fit so perfectly against his… like a missing puzzle piece.

“It’s okay…” and as soon as those softly whispered words left her plump lips, he was completely under her spell. His walls were knocked down and the waterworks began.

Large muscular arms pulled her body flush against his, his face buried in the crook of her neck as a sob wracked through his chest. He held her like a lifeline as years of pent up tears cascade down his scarred face. Her comforting scent of roses calming him in a familiar way…

Kaoru glanced over at his mother’s grave as a revelation hit him. His mother must have sent (your name) to meet him… that’s why they are so similar… why she smelled of roses and was oh so soft. She was his destiny.

Their meeting here at the cemetery and their comforting interaction was fate…

And on that cold, cloudy day, Kaoru finally succumbed to his delusions.

The first gift that came to (your name)‘s house was a bouquet of ruby colored roses. There had to be at least a hundred of them in the little black box they came in.

The scent was overpoweringly heady and sweet to the point that it gave her a headache… but it was sweet of Kizaki to buy her roses. It’s been a minute since he’s gotten her a bouquet of her favorite flowers…

She smiled as she brought the bouquet up to her roses and inhaled the scent. Hmm… there was another scent mixed in there… almost like a tobacco scent which was strange. Why would someone spray cologne in with the roses?

Oh well, she’d display them in the center of her table so she can enjoy the present her boyfriend had gotten her.

She was unaware of the scarred man who sat on the bench across the street admiring her from afar… he was so happy she loved his gift. Especially because he left a piece of him with it… it’s important to accustom one’s partner to their scent. That way it’d be more calming to them.

Kaoru sighed and rose up from the bench. The giant man lighting a Cuban cigar and inhaling the tobacco deeply. Soon… he’d woo her soon.

“I didn’t get you a bouquet of roses, darling.” (Your name) felt her blood run cold at Kizaki’s words. He didn’t get her the roses… then who got her the roses? “Sorry but I have to get back to work. The boss has been keeping me so busy as of late…”

(Your name) lips twitched. She knew she was going to be second in Kizaki’s life compared to his boss, but lately she hasn’t been seeing her beau as much… it was a bit lonely to say the least.

“Be safe. Love you-“ Kizaki had hung up right away, leaving him no time to respond to her words of admiration. A sigh escaped her lips as she sat down at her table and buried her face in her hands.

It wasn’t Kizaki’s fault. He was a busy man and she shouldn’t bother him with her incessant chatter. She’d only call him if it became too much for her.

And oh did it become overwhelming quickly.

(Your name) found a gift for her every single day since the box of roses. Sometimes double gifts. Now it was exquisite jewelry pieces and designer clothing… how did they know her exact sizing and tastes?

She felt violated in her own home at this point. Who was her secret admirer and how did they know so much about her… and why were they so persistent?

(Your name) itched to call Kizaki but he’s been so busy with work and she didn’t want to add onto that stress. She was a big girl, she was sure she could handle this.

Another week had gone by and now she was even more paranoid. It felt as if someone’s eyes were always on her. That she had a stalker…

She swore sometimes she’d see the flash of a camera out of the corner of her eye. It was frustrating and terrifying all at once.

Not to mention the black limousine she’d spot near her place of work. Who on earth could be following her around? She didn’t think she was such an interesting person…

But lately, her rude clients have disappeared seemingly out of thin air. No one has heard of them since they screamed at you… it was strange.

The last two weeks have been so strange…

She arrived home a little earlier than normal since she felt sick at work. And low and behold… she caught her admirer red handed.

She just didn’t expect them to be Kizaki’s boss… Hanayama Kaoru was it? Despite his rugged appearance he was a few years younger than her. Not that she was excusing his outlandish behavior with his age.

“You’re back early…” Kaoru muttered, the man still holding a neatly wrapped black box in his hands. “I guess this makes things easier for me.”

(Your name)’s eyes were wide when he tried handing her the gift. She took notice of the intricately tied knots around the box. What on earth was this man insinuating?

“I think you’d look lovely in red and black…” Kaoru whispered, his dark eyes admiring her facial expressions.

“I really cannot accept these-“ Kaoru put a finger up to her lips and hushed her.

“Shh. It’s okay. I know you want me as much as I want you…” Kaoru pressed a chaste kiss to the shell of her ear, causing (your name) to involuntarily shudder. He was in her bubble and it disgusted her.

(Your name) put her hand over his mouth and attempted to push him back. Instead her palms were met with a kiss from his large lips.

Kaoru easily swatted her hand away and swooped her into his arms. His lips on her cheek now.

“If you wanted me to kiss you, you could have just said so…” Kaoru chuckled at her attempts to get away from him. She felt like a kitten trying to defend itself from a lion. He made her feel so small and helpless…

“Stop it-“ His lips silenced hers in a swift kiss. His tongue prying her mouth open with ease, the pink muscle easily swallowing hers whole. This was no kiss… this was an assertion of dominance. Kaoru was letting her know how useless it was to resist him. To reject him. To escape him.

A string of saliva connected the two, his obsidian eyes hazy with lust. The yakuza leader leaning forward to lick up the saliva string from her lips.

“You taste so good.” Kaoru whispered as he peppered her face with more kisses. “I just want to devour you whole so no one else can ever taste you…”

Kaoru reluctantly pulled away, a smile now on his usually stoic face. “I’ll see you around my dear… next time I’ll bring a better gift. One that will be sure to wow you. I’ll see you around, dear.”

The moment he left, her knees finally gave out from under her. (Your name)’s strength completely left her as the waterworks began to come. She felt so hopeless… getting away from him was hopeless.

There was not a doubt in her mind that Kaoru would one day swallow her whole. And she was even certain that it would be in the near future.

There was something seriously wrong with that man… he must’ve been hit in the head too many times to truly believe that the way he was behaving towards was normal.

Kizaki noticed Kaoru’s sudden change in behavior. His boss would buy giant bouquets of roses, expensive jewelry, and clothes from the latest designers. It didn’t take long for Kizaki to figure out that Kaoru had fallen in love.

Kizaki was thrilled to know that his boss had fallen for someone… his boss deserved to be happy after all these years of solitude and rejection.

Kaoru had been increasing his work as of late, which kept him from seeing his girlfriend as much but she was understanding… Kizaki loved (your name) so much. He couldn’t have picked a more perfect partner for him.

Lately she seemed a bit on edge so Kizaki decided to drop by after his latest errand for Kaoru. Kaoru seemed a bit agitated that Kizaki didn’t want to work longer, but he relented.

Kaoru told Kizaki he’d be collecting his bride soon, but Kizaki wasn’t quite sure what his boss meant by that. His boss barely has been seeing his recent beau, how could marriage be on the line?

It was when Kizaki arrived to (your name)’s home that he realized what was truly going on with his boss. The familiar gifts all sitting precariously on her dining room table unopened. Her eyes red and puffy and her voice hoarse from crying.

“He won’t stop…” Her voice was barely above a whisper but Kizaki heard her. The reality was still sinking into him. This had to be a sick joke… a prank. Kaoru couldn’t possibly be in love with (your name)…

Kizaki knew the truth no matter how much he wanted to ignore it. Kaoru wasn’t a man who joked around, he was always serious. And these gifts were proof that he was serious about (your name).

“He was at the cemetery when I was there and he… he just looked so sad.” (Your name) choked out the words, her hands tightly gripping her arms. “I just hugged him was all and now he won’t leave me alone… why won’t he leave me alone, Kizaki?”

Kizaki couldn’t muster a response… yet his actions provided her the comfort she desired. His arms wrapped around her in a gentle embrace. His chai tea scent offering her solace.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” Kizaki pulled away and held her face in his hands. His dark eyes softening at her face. “I won’t let you be subjected to this. I love you.”

(Your name) nodded her head and pressed her lips against her boyfriend’s. Kizaki leaning his forehead against hers.

“We’ll get through this together, darling.”

Kaoru marveled at the photos he had a photographer take of (your name). A giant professional portrait of her now hanging in his office. He wanted more of her… but for now he would settle for this temporary fix to his addiction.

Kaoru sighed dreamily as his hands flipped through each photo fondly. She was so beautiful… and so kind…

Kaoru’s behavior was becoming more and more concerning to his peers but they didn’t dare pipe up in fear of him lashing out.

No one wanted to end up on his bad side or else their face would end up as an article in the daily paper… Kaoru was not a man anyone wanted to mess with and especially not to stand up to.

Kizaki flinched when Kaoru threw his desk across the room. The wood splintering under the force of his throw and various papers scattered across the room.

Kaoru wasn’t handling the news well… that Kizaki wanted to marry his girlfriend of almost a year and that he wasn’t going to accept payment for her hand.

“I’m offering you one million yen.” Kaoru murmurs under his breath. “Do you want more money? Just name your price and I’ll pay it-“

“Boss… you can’t buy love-“ a chair was then thrown over Kizaki’s head. The older man sighing at Kaoru’s tantrum. Perhaps Kizaki was reaping what he’s sown by spoiling Kaoru for all these years.

“You said if there’s anything I want from you, you’d give it to me…” Kaoru whispered, his large form looming over Kizaki. “And I want (your name).”

“Boss-“ Kizaki winced when Kaoru pinched the doors frame by Kizaki’s head apart in by inch. It was a warning of what extremes Kaoru was willing to go to to get what he desired.

“She’s my soulmate, Kizaki. My mother sent her to me…”

“But she doesn’t love you-“

“I’m sure in time she will… she’ll love me with time.” Kizaki felt a chill run down his spine at the look in Kaoru’s eyes. He’s lost it… Hanayama Kaoru has officially lost it.

If Kizaki has talked to him more would he have ended up a better man? If he had paid more attention to Kaoru’s silent cries for help, would it have made a difference? No… Kaoru was too far gone to reason with.

It didn’t matter what Kizaki said or did, Kaoru was going to have his way.

Because what the boss wanted… the boss got.

“Marry me.” Kaoru got down on one knee in front of (your name) at the front of her door. His men behind him to prevent her from running. “Marry me and I swear I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.”

(Your name) was speechless. Kaoru was undeterred from her lack of response and her gentle rejections. This man was not going to take no as an answer…

“Kaoru… I-“ Kaoru stood up and slipped the extravagant ring, that somehow fit perfectly, on her ring finger.

“It would be wise to accept me, lest you want something horrible to happen to Kizaki.” Now he was resorting to threats and force to get what he wants… how lovely. He was smart to exploit her weaknesses, she’d give him that.

(Your name) held his hand and leaned her head into his chest. If he wanted her to play pretend then she was willing to. Anything to prevent Kizaki from being harmed.

Kaoru softly smiled at her submission. He knew she’d see things his way… that’s what soul mates did…

Being forced to marry your lover’s boss was not something (your name) ever thought she’d be doing but here she was…

She was dressed to the nines in an elegant white dress that felt much like that of pretty wrapping paper than an article of clothing. Her wrists tied expertly together with a pristine white silk ribbon around her bouquet of roses.

The aromatic scent of the flowers she once admired mocking her for her misfortune. If she hadn’t loved the flower of love so much, would she be in this situation? Or would she be getting married to the love of her life, Kizaki, instead?

(Your name) sighed, pulling her bound wrists up to her chest in an attempt to comfort herself. Kizaki wasn’t powerful enough to do anything to convince his boss that this was wrong… and Kaoru made sure to threaten her into marrying him. Marry him or Kizaki will die. Of course she chose the first option… she’d do anything for Kizaki.

Two armed guards came in to escort her to her wedding. She obediently went with them. It’s not like she had a choice in this matter. She didn’t even get to pick her dress or the venue. This was all an orchestration of Kaoru’s ‘devotion’ to her.

The man was a control freak with mommy issues. Kaoru was unhinged but in a classy way. At least she’s be wined and dined while he goes on some delusional rant of her being his soulmate.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Imagine that it’s Kizaki at the alter and don’t make a scene.

And for awhile, it worked. She pretended it was Kizaki she was saying her vows to. That it was Kizaki who hungrily pressed his lips against hers. That it was Kizaki who swung her over his shoulders like a heathen- there was no pretending that this was Kizaki. Kizaki would never treat her so savagely, so barbarically. There was no gentleness in Kaoru’s haste to own her.

(Your name) knew in Kaoru’s eyes, she was a possession. A trophy. A plunder.

Especially with the way Kaoru threw her onto the bed like a ragdoll for their wedding night. His hands excitedly untying the knots he had made prior to her wrists.

“I can’t wait any longer… I’ve gotten you such a wonderful wedding gift too…”

That’s when Kaoru opened the closet door to reveal Kizaki bound and gagged to a chair. The poor man in perfect view of the bed. He wouldn’t… Kaoru couldn’t possibly think of doing something so cruel.

And that’s when he began to tear off his clothes like a child opening a gift on Christmas Day. The ripping of fabric and snapping of buttons echoing throughout the room. This was happening… this was going to happen.

Kizaki screamed through the gag, tears falling from his eyes. (Your name) squeezing her eyes shut when he removed the last article of his clothing. The bed dipped under his weight as his body joined her on her cushioned cage.

“My darling wife… tonight I’m going to show you how much a man can truly love a woman.”

(Your name) nodded her head to try to shake away her tears. She knew there was nothing she could do against this mountain of a man. Not if she wanted her beloved to live. So she would pretend again… she would pretend the man who was ripping apart her dress was Kizaki. That it was Kizaki’s hands grasping at her flesh so excitedly.

Her eyes never left Kizaki’s as Kaoru’s lips began to suck and bite down her neck and onto her chest. His hand guiding one of hers to his chest.

“Can you feel how my heart beats for you?” Kaoru asked softly like he was your lover instead. Like he wasn’t the man who threatened to kill the man you loved for you to accept him. “You make me feel so alive…”

(Your name) shivered when Kaoru slowly dragged her hand lower and lower. His dark eyes not leaving her eyes once during this act.

His breath hitching when the soft skin of her hands lightly grazed his hip.

“Please… pay attention to me.” Kaoru whispered, his lips pressed firmly in the junction of her neck. “Look at me and only me… look at your husband. At your life partner…”

It wasn’t long before she laid out completely bare in front of him. His lips salaciously covering every inch of her skin that he could. Tiny red marks in their wake from him nipping at her with his teeth.

He still held her hand in his as he stroked himself with her soft palms. His size was impressive… intimidating even. She wasn’t sure if he was going to fit in her.

Kaoru has her hand guide him to her entrance. The fat, bulbous tip kissing her lips gently as he lined himself up.

“You’re so beautiful… my beautiful wife.” Her head is thrown back when he begins his assault. Kaoru sheathing himself deep inside of her in one thrust. His sheer size causing her stomach to bulge. He was so big… bigger than any man she’s ever been with before.

“Oh god!” She cried out, her nails leaving angry red crescents on Kaoru’s back, the man smirking at her reaction. She’s never been stretched like this… never had someone make her feel… “so full…”

Kaoru smirked, his hips slowly rocking into hers. “I’m not even all the way in yet and you’re already a mess under me… what a perfect wife you are.”

Kizaki could only watch as Kaoru began snapping his hips into (your name)‘s. Her gasps and whines shamefully turning him on. Kizaki felt so ashamed watching her being railed by another man.

(Your name) could feel her eyes roll back when Kaoru threw her legs over his shoulders to go even deeper.

“So tight… so perfect.” Kaoru sung her praises, his hips moving faster as she cried out.

Kaoru moved his hand to push down on the bulge on her stomach, the poor girl coming undone in an instant. Kaoru’s face lighting up.

“You’re mine.” Kaoru chanted like a mantra. This man was insane. Absolutely insane… but she couldn’t deny that she’s never been sexually satisfied like this before. Kaoru knew what he was doing.

When he grabbed her hips and angled her up, she came undone again. A smirk was on his lips the entire time. It disappeared once he noticed her trying to look over at Kizaki again.

“No one’s ever made you feel like this before have they?” Kaoru asked, a finger reaching across and harshly pinching her nipple. A strangle cry escaping her lips, her eyes now on Kaoru again. “There we go. Look at me. Look at your husband.”

Kaoru firmly pressed his lips to hers as his hips began to stutter. Insane ramblings and sweet nothings were mixed together to form gibberish out of his mouth. The only word that she could understand from him was “mine.”

She felt his muscles go taut and she watched as he bit his lip to try to silence the loud groan that escaped his lips. Kaoru pulled out just in time, his sticky essence coating her stomach and collarbone.

Kaoru then slumped on top of her, pressing messy kisses all over her cheeks and jaw.

Her eyes turned over to look at Kizaki who was still crying but the stain between his legs was evident of what had happened… Kizaki had gotten off to watching her be railed by Kaoru…

“My beautiful wife… I promise to take care of you for the rest of our days.” Kaoru fondly mumbled in her ear. “You’re my world.”

(Your name)’s eyes never left Kizaki’s as she drowned out Kaoru. “I love you…” she whispered softly before Kaoru was on top of her again for the next round.

It seems Kaoru wasn’t going to stop until she understood that she was his… until she directed those three words towards her.

“I can’t have you telling another man you love him, dear.” Kaoru chuckled, his lips pressed firmly to hers. “You’re mine.”

#tw.dubcon #baki the grappler x reader #yandere baki #yandere imagine #female reader #yandere #yandere fic #hanayama kaoru #kaoru hanayama #kaoru hanayama x reader #baki kaoru hanayama #baki hanayama #Baki Kizaki #forced marriage #TW.forced marriage #tw.voyeurism

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 month

Text

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago.

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.”

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?”

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared.

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?”

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.”

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear.

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs.

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer.

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no—

“Looking for this?”

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.” He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.”

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?”

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?”

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.”

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger.

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger.

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for.

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?”

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.” He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens.

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.”

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you.

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat.

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.”

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.”

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you.

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?”

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss.

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?”

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?”

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.”

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.”

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch.

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little,

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?”

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.”

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?”

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him.

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen.

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there.

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him.

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word.

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 8 months

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Twisted Love pt 5

Loki x reader

Pairing: Loki x Wife reader

Warnings: Forced marriage, language, anxiety, panic attacks, if I forgot anything please let me know!

Summary: Loki Leaves for the hunt and your left to your own devices.

A.N Sorry it’s been so long loves!! The writers block was hitting hard but the Loki show revived me lol, hope you enjoy this chapter!

"No your highness, you should wear this. It's tradition after all"

You glanced over to the wardrobe where Adessa held out a silky dress of emerald.

"Tradition to wear green?" You tilted your head.

She smiled nodding her head, "No, not quite, but it is tradition to wear your husbands colors on the days of the hunt" she pulled you towards the screen and slid the fabric to you. Knowing you liked privacy.

“Oh I see" for some reason that made you feel a bit embarrassed but you slid off your sleep clothes and complied anyway.

Luckily last night your exhaustion won over so you didn't lie nervously overthinking from Loki being so close for too long.

Although you had been anxious, you actually didn't hate that he slept next to you. It was sort of nice to not sleep alone.

You stepped out and Adessa nodded approvingly. "Now for the finishing touches, she pulled you towards a small chest on the ground and pulled out a few golden accessories.

"There, now there's just one more thing..." she shuffled in the chest some more and her hands pulled out a small dainty golden headpiece that had two protruding horns.

"Adessa do I have to wear that...?" You eyed the crown carefully. It wasn't that you didn't like the headpiece. Quite opposite actually because the piece shimmered gorgeously and you loved how the design was subtle and elegant all at once. The problem however was that is was a version of Lokis own Horn crown and for some reason that made you shy.

"Yes you do, it's the law" you gave a her a look.

"Ok so it's not the law but still, you'll look lovely with it on and his majesty won't be able to resist."

That doesn't make me feel any better...

Reluctantly you nodded, knowing she wouldn't give up any time soon.

"Alright now you're ready, let's go!" she pushed you excitedly out of the tent before you could even mentally prepare yourselves.

The guards at the entrance bowed slightly when you appeared then proceeded to escort you.

You eyed Adessa nervously.

"Don't worry, we are just going to see off the hunting parties" she whispered then fell into step behind you. You nodded and tried not to shrink away when you saw people stop to look at you.

You knew that everything, even you being escorted was all part of the big show.

Even the trail you walked was lined with petals.

Ok this was nearing on being ridiculous now...

"This way your highness" one of the guards motioned to an open area where you could see in the distance Loki, Thor and the rest of the royal family. They were all clad in lavish armor, in their respective colors.

You gulped when you neared closer and gained their attention.

"Her royal highness" the guards stepped aside and left you exposed.

With a shaky smile you bowed and walked closer. Frigga was the first to greet you.

“My dear you look absolutely lovely” she pulled you to stand next to her which you were grateful of.

You bowed your head slightly to the all father, and Thor and when your eyes met Loki you sucked in a breathe. His eyes were not on you but rather roaming from bottom to top.

Perhaps you should have fought Adessa harder, did he think this was too much?

When he did finally look up he averted his gaze quickly and you felt you had upset him somehow.

"Loki doesn't she look absolutely stunning" you flushed at her sudden teasing. Frigga why...

You hesitantly looked to him awaiting his answer,

he cleared his throat, "Yes she does" although he was basically forced to say it it still made you fluttery and nervous all the same.

"Now then let's not waste another moment" Odin suddenly announced stepping in front of everyone.

"Good luck my dears” Frigga gave her sons a nod then turned to you with an encouraging nod.

“G-good Luck Loki” you felt butterflies flutter in your stomach, had his name always sounded so smooth on your tongue?

He gave you a small nod then turned around with the others and made their way out of the camp.

“Now how about some breakfast?” The Queen smiled and offered her arm.

“That sounds lovely” you followed her through the makeshift camp, eyes leaving Lokis disappearing figure reluctantly.

**********************************************

“My Lady I wonder if I might ask a favor of you…”

You perked up from your laying position under the shade of a beautiful bay lily tree.

“Of course, what is it?” You eyed the slightly blushing girl curiously.

“Well um you see, this camp is close to an old dear friends place of mine and well I’d hate to miss the opportunity to see her while I’m here um…would it be alright if I took the next few hours off? Of course I’ll have someone look after you in my stead!”

A smirk formed on your lips. “Well of course, we can’t keep your dear “friend” waiting now can we?”

“Here” you handed her the thick cloak that lay at your side. “It’s been getting colder I’ve noticed, oh and don’t worry about getting back to me too soon, enjoy your time, take tomorrow off as well if you wish, I’ll be just fine here on my own.” You smiled encouragingly. Honestly you felt a little uneasy at the thought of not having her nearby but you could tell she needed a break. Preparations for the hunt have been running everyone ragged.

She practically jumped on you with joy,” Oh my Sweet benevolent gracious Lady! You are truly a gem among rocks!!”

“Alright alright, you’d best save that sweet talk for your friend hm?” You jutted your head towards the camp entrance.

“Now go on before it gets dark, and I mean it about not rushing back, I don’t want you walking back at night, it’s not safe. Come back during daylight tommorow ok?”

“Ok mother will do, I’ll alert one of the maids so they can-“

“N-no that’s not necessary, I’ll be ok on my own”

“But how could I possibly leave you with no one to assist you?”

“Honestly I’ll be alright, I’m just going to be laying here reading anyway. And I am more than capable of dressing myself for bed.”

She looked like she wanted to protest but you playfully pushed her along and she reluctantly agreed. “Well alright… but if you need anything ask for Felice, she’s very sweet and keeps her nose where it belongs.

“Alright, I will, have fun”

“Oh I will my Lady, don’t you worry” she winked before practically sprinting out the camp.

You laughed quietly after her, the sun was still high in the sky and everyone seemed to have something to do but you. Sighing you threw your book aside and decided to stretch your legs.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mathis and some other guards helping unload crates off a carriage.

Frowning you spun the other direction away from him and began walking mindlessly.

It was amazing how this area was once just forest and now it looked like a mini city.

Luckily everyone was occupied so no guards followed you. One thing you took for granted in your old life was freedom of well… freedom.

In the palace you didn’t leave your room that often and when you did a guard was beside you wherever you went.

You quickened your steps until you reached the outskirts of the camp. There was practically no one there and you felt you could finally relax, truly relax.

Your eyes scanned the forest line, dozens of tall beautiful trees lined the area. Valheim didn’t have beautiful foliage like this, or maybe it did, it’s not like you really had a chance to go on vacation.

You spent several moments standing there breathing in the crisp air.

Your thoughts traveled to Loki and wondered how he was faring. In all your time together you’d only seen him composed and elegant, you couldn’t exactly picture him covered in blood and taking down a wolf. Or perhaps he’d opt for a bow instead of his golden blades.

The area was too peaceful to leave so soon so you decided to explore a bit more. You followed a small opening between two trees that formed a natural trail.

You kicked off your shoes and sighed happily feeling the soft grass caress your feet.

You started to pick flowers along the way, maybe you’d bring a bundle back for Frigga. Or maybe that would seem not proper? Picking wildflowers like common folk. Oh well you’d pick them anyway and decide later since they were so pretty.

Maybe you’d make perfume for yourself out of them…

Before you knew it you had a picked enough flowers to fill a shop, your dress wrappings conveniently formed the perfect basket.

The dimming of the sky caught your attention.

Perhaps you should be getting back before anyone worries about your absence.

You are just about to turn back when a sudden howl has you frozen to the spot.

****************************

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collegeboysam · 7 months

Text

viserys being the champion of making aemond and lucerys get married to "fix the problems between families" will never get old for me. the concept of a lifetime. i see it in the summary of any fic on ao3 and i start cheering and clapping for ten minutes before i read

#arranged marriage tag on lucemond fic??? delicious delicious delicious finally more food #make those enemies marry each other and add forced-couple tension to their already fucked up problems DO IT VISERYS #lucemond

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

Chosen by Eywa - The Dream Hunt - Chapter 1

chapter 2 →

summary: eywa makes no mistakes... in the midst of his preparation to become the future olo'eyktan, neteyam is told to be with a chosen mate. guided by the signs of eywa, tsahik picks y/n, a woman orphaned by the war, whose heart already belongs to another

contains: arranged marriage, mentions of war and grief, angst, one-sided enemies to lovers

wc: 4.6k

a/n: i just wanted to say a major THANK YOU for 4k and for the support you have shown for this series before i even posted anything 😭 i hope this meets your expectations, and i am very excited for the next chapters

chosen by eywa masterlist | general avatar masterlist

Eywa makes no mistakes. Y/N had clung to these words her whole life, since the day her parents were taken by the merciless war against the sky people. She found comfort in knowing that her journey was already prewritten, destined for a greater purpose. But she had never expected for Eywa to turn her world upside down, forcing her to question everything she believed in, and lead her to a love that she never imagined possible…

The scent of smoldering herbs filled the air, mingling with the soft groans and hushed whispers of the healers attending to the small party of warriors. Y/N's deft hands worked quickly, spreading the last thick layer of healing poultice over the gash on his arm. He winced at the searing pain, then let out a weak chuckle at his own reaction.

"Mawey," she murmured to the injured warrior, her voice sweet with warmth that she failed to conceal, “We are done.” Their eyes met briefly, and a blush crept up Y/N's cheeks.

She turned away, to hide a small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips, and stepped closer to Kiri to search for another remedy in their shared basket. Neteyam, sitting beneath his sister's tender ministrations, winced slightly. His eyes then spotted Y/N, who was rifling through the herbs and ointments, though her thoughts seemed to drift somewhere else.

“What are you looking for?” Kiri asked, poking her head out from behind her brother.

“Oh,” Y/N turned, flashing the siblings a sheepish smile, “Was just making sure that we had enough eanean.”

Kiri nodded, though she was hardly convinced. Having worked with Y/N side by side for years now, she had grown to read her subtle moods. Over the past few months especially, with the increased work, the two women had become closer, and Kiri had suspected that there was something going on between Y/N and Kaye, the warrior she was just tending to. But she ultimately decided not to intervene.

“I still don’t understand how you even crossed paths with those skxawngs at the Eastern border,” Kiri returned to the conversation she was having with her brother.

"They were lying in wait," Neteyam answered, his gaze still fixated on Y/N, "I don't know how they figured out we'd be there today, but they attacked us from above."

"That's very bad," Kiri sighed, applying fresh bandages to his back, “What if there were more of them?”

She circled to stand in front of her brother, while her eyes darted around the spacious tent. The healing tent had been expanded due to Mo’at’s request, who had decided that the old one was too cramped. Mo’at also took on more students because of the attacks from the sky people, and the clan now boasted a larger number of healers than ever before.

"We probably wouldn't have made it out alive," Neteyam sighed, disappointed.

The future Olo’yektan saw no point in hiding the intensity of the day’s event; he had barely escaped his own death earlier. He was assigned to lead the party, and the weight of bringing his warriors to safety was heavy on his shoulders. How could he ensure they would never end up in the same situation again? Getting trapped by the sky people, almost facing death. He couldn’t help but feel insecure in his own ability as the future chief, maybe he wasn’t ready to pass his Dream Hunt yet.

Kiri's shoulders slumped in response, though the answer wasn't difficult to guess. She stole a quick glance at Y/N, who seemed to be frozen in place, listening to the conversation. If anything happened to Kaye, if she lost another person she loved to the war, would she be able to bear it?

The familiar touch of Kaye's hand on her back broke Y/N out of her thoughts. As he passed by, uttering a grateful "thank you," she blushed deeply, but the worry in her eyes was not lost on Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N dipped her feet into the cold water, feeling the soreness starting to slip away from her body. The river was serene, calming her, as she had been on her feet all day, working under the watchful eyes of Mo’at and tending to the injured warriors. Kaye, who sat next to her, nudged her thigh with his. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers, his canines peeking out with a small smirk.

“You know I don’t like it when you are upset with me,” he said, nudging her again playfully, “Y/N.”

Her ears twitched, as she turned to look at him with a hint of annoyance at how unserious he was being. He had accidentally blabbered about his stupid idea to take on two geared up sky people at once and almost lost his arm during the encounter.

“The Great Mother may have looked after you today, but it won’t always be so,” she said firmly, “I lost my parents to a slip-up like this. Eywa does not intervene in these matters.”

“I know,” Kaye cupped her cheek tenderly, recognizing the reminiscing in her eyes, “I will be more careful.”

She leaned into his touch, eyes closing for a moment with a small sigh. Her mind wandered back to the memories of her parents. It was a pain that never fully went away, a constant ache that still kept her up at nights.

“I worry about you, Kaye,” she murmured.

“And I worry about you,” he replied softly, his thumb rubbing circles on her cheekbone, “Which is why I think it is time to tell my family about us.”

Y/N blinked at him, feeling the familiar spark of hope ignite within her, but she quickly pushed it aside. She had heard these words from Kaye before, a promise that he had broken time and time again. His family held importance in the clan, his parents were strict, determined to arrange a mate for Kaye, just like they did for the rest of their children. And she was never worthy of their attention. She had nothing to offer to them. Kaye knew that too well, but he continued to give both of them false hopes of a bright future together.

“You don’t have to, it is no rush,” she mumbled, wondering if her devotion to him would ever be matched, “I don’t want you to fight with your parents.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Like in the womb of Pandora, surrounded by the elders and the Tsahik, Neteyam proudly wore the white paint on his body as he silently took a seat in the middle of the circle. His mother lingered behind with a mixture of worry and pride on her face; she had looked forward to the day her firstborn passed the Dream Hunt, but the earlier encounter with the sky people had shaken her slightly. What if Neteyam was too tired and wouldn’t survive his uniltaron? Jake threw an assurring arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest, and she gratefully complied, peeking at her son with a smile. Jake was grinning, confident that Neteyam, who had already accomplished so much at his age, would pass his trial with ease. He had prepared for it for months, what’s one more rite?

The chanting began to pick up with the beginning of the ritual, and knowing his role too well, Neteyam opened his mouth willingly when Mo'at approached him with a glowing worm hanging from her fingers. The worm wiggled around as Neteyam closed his lips around it and chewed it down. The smoke from burning herbs filled his nose and eyes, burning all the way to his lungs.

The chant grew louder and more hypnotic, and the taste of the worm on his tongue numbed his buds like a torch. Neteyam felt his body vibrate involuntarily, and as his father placed an arachnoid on his neck, he felt it stung him twice mercilessly. Neteyam squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the noise and the pain, as his mind began to slip into a trance. He could feel his lungs give out with a sharp pain and as he desperately gasped for air, it seemed like he was falling, spiraling down with nothing to grab onto. His heartbeat suddenly was louder, faster in his ears, thumping in a rhythm as he plummeted it down. The world went dark, and when he opened his eyes, Neteyam saw himself in the forest, surrounded by mist.

His body went limp for a moment, bright sunlight blinding his vision. He gathered his energy and barely moved to his feet, when with a sudden gust of wind, a banshee flew right above him, so close to the ground that it almost threw him off. Instinctively, Neteyam reached to cover his eyes with his hand, and then he was no longer himself.

His body ached, as it began to stretch out. His hands were growing, transforming into wings, as venom flowed through his blood, he was suddenly floating above the forest. It was like he was on the back of his ikran but the feeling was more intense. Unmistakably, his mind was no longer his own, Neteyam saw and felt through the banshee.

A rush of adrenaline burst through him, and Neteyam, for the first time in his life, was free, as he soared through the sky. He couldn’t express it, but he could feel it somewhere in his heart that this is what he was meant to be. One with Eywa.

As he flew over the trees, he spotted and neared closer to himself. His own Na’vi body stood small and fragile from the new point of view. But there was also somebody else standing next to him. A woman holding his hand. She was laughing, her voice vibrantly filled his ears with a pleasant sound. A long necklace wrapped around her neck and hung all the way down to her stomach, adorned with big beads, glistening under the sun, and blue feathers. Her hair was let down in soft waves, and her face… When Neteyam tried tracing her features, he realized he couldn’t. The image began to slip away from him, and he felt his body betray him once again…

Suddenly, his eyes flew open, the darkness of the cave enveloping him. His trembling body was arched, palms digging into the soil beneath him, sweat rolling down his face in big drops. Neteyam took a moment to regain his breath, heart pounding.

“It is finished,” Mo’at’s voice broke the silence, words echoing through the cave.

Neteyam winced slightly at the loudness and rubbed his eyes to regain his vision. He could feel the eyes of elderly on him, then the relief in his mother’s voice, as she rushed to his side. Her hands reached for his face, massaging his temples.

“Did you see your spirit animal?” Neytiri asked with a smile, her eyes brimming with curiosity.

Neteyam nodded weakly, a small smile of his own stretching across his lips.

“I saw an ikran… I was the ikran!” he exclaimed, his laughter filling the cave.

Jake and Neytiri joined in his giddy laughter, the rest of the circle smiling in approval. Neytiri pulled her son into a tight embrace.

“We are very proud of you, son,” Jake said, crouching down next to them and patting Neteyam’s head, knowing exactly what he went through.

“Thank you,” Neteyam smiled, then as if he remembered another vision from his Dream Hunt, continued, “But I saw something else too!”

Mo’at approached him hastily, making a room for herself, as she splayed her fingers against Neteyam’s face. She peered into his amber eyes with curiosity, urging him to continue.

“I saw a woman,” he smiled, the memory returning to him, “She was holding my hand… well, the hand of my Na’vi body.”

Neytiri gasped softly, her eyes widening with shock. Mo’at’s expression remained stoic, though she gripped Neteyam’s shoulder.

“Did you recognize her, child?” she questioned, concealing her surprise.

“No, I couldn’t see her face,” Neteyam shook his head with a slight disappointment, “She was a Na’vi woman. But I couldn’t see her clearly.” He looked to his father, seeking answers, but found only confusion there.

Neytiri and Mo’at shared a knowing glance before rising to their feet. Neytiri brought her hands to her chest, anxiety etched onto her features. Jake registered it immediately, now alerted too by their reactions.

“Is something wrong?” he whispered to her.

She looked back at him, confusion marring her expression. She wasn’t really sure what it meant, only knew that Eywa very rarely sent a vision during the uniltaron. Mo’at circled around Neteyam, the air thick with tension. He waited patiently, his eyes trained on his grandmother, though he was already a little worried by how long she waited to speak. She took a step back and motioned for him to stand up. He complied, his body still weak.

“The Great Mother had blessed you with another vision, a peek into your destiny,” Mo’at’s tone was serious.

Jake’s ears perked up, unsure if it should excite him or scare him. He looked around the cave, seeking for a similar reaction, but everyone except him and Neteyam seemed to have an idea of what it meant.

“What does it mean, grandmother?” Neteyam asked carefully.

“It is time, Neteyam,” Mo’at spoke with a glimmer of pride in her eyes, “The Great Mother thinks you are ready to take a mate. Your journey begins now.”

Neytiri wrapped her arms around her son once more with a bittersweet smile. She seemed relieved by the explanation. Neteyam, like the perfect son, had passed every rite on his own. Now it was time for him to face the rest of his challenges with a woman by his side, someone he would love and cherish. He wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. Jake watched with the same confused expression on his face, ever so often glancing at Neytiri to try and understand how he should react.

“If you have already chosen a mate in secret from the clan, you must reveal it now, child,” Mo’at spoke again.

“No, grandmother, I have not chosen,” Neteyam shook his head firmly, “I am not mated with anyone.”

“Very well,” Mo’at heaved a sigh, then tilted her head slightly, “Do you have anyone in mind for the role?”

“No,” he shook his head again, this time slightly embarrassed by his own answer. It was the only thing he lacked so far, “I didn’t have time for that.”

The words brought a pang of guilt to his parents. They both lowered their ears immediately, feeling fully responsible for raising their son with such a weighty burden on his shoulders.

“Good. Then the search begins,” Mo’at announced, “You will hear the answer soon.”

Neteyam felt his heart sink. His mouth hung open, as he looked around the cave for support but the elderly only seemed content with the decision and began to disperse. He would hear the answer? Were they going to decide for him? Of course, arranging bonds was quite common and successful in his clan, especially within the line of Olo’eyktans. Their mates were chosen carefully, keeping in mind that the couples had to be strong enough to lead their people through thick and thin. But he was content with his life as of now, exploring the forests and working on his skills. Neteyam didn’t feel ready, despite his vision. He glanced at his father, who was now frowning and clearly holding himself back from speaking, biding his time until they were left alone to discuss the matter further.

“Neteyam, you should go to the celebration, your brother and sisters have been waiting for you this whole time," Neytiri spoke softly.

"But mother -" Neteyam tried to protest.

"No buts, boy," his father interjected, “You did well. Go celebrate."

“Fine,” Neteyam nodded, his voice falling to a whisper.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It has been a few days since Neteyam passed his Dream Hunt, but he was already impatient for his grandmother’s decision. It could take her months to make it, yet he couldn’t help the anxiousness. Was he too late to choose a mate for himself? What made it worse was the conversations he overheard between his parents. He tiptoed around the corner of his family tent, his mind already racing with conflicting thoughts. He had gathered every argument and piled it into a high tower, ready to unravel it onto his parents, but as their voices grew louder, he couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"I can’t believe you’re going along with this, Neytiri," Jake's voice echoed, his tone growing more exasperated by the second. "He should have a choice in who he wants to spend his life with."

"He didn’t make a choice in time," Neytiri replied, her voice firm, "But the Great Mother has. A mate has already been chosen by Eywa.”

“And what if he doesn’t like this arrangement? You were in his place once,” Jake was upset. He had never expected Neytiri to agree with Mo’at’s decision.

“Ma’Jake,” Neytiri sighed, “Eywa makes no mistakes. Neteyam received a clear sign, it would be foolish to ignore it.”

Neteyam's heart skipped a beat at her words. His mother seemed determined that it was the right step to take, and deep down, he thought he agreed with her. He had to trust in the wisdom of Eywa. Yet, Neteyam was scared because of his own helplessness.

“I don’t know…” Jake trailed off.

It wasn't fair play, arguing with Tsahik’s decision, with Eywa’s signs. Jake may have lived on Pandora for over 20 years, having been reborn as a Na’vi, but he still felt like an outsider when it came to the traditions of the clan. He wasn’t going to enforce his opinions with his position as Toruk Makto and go against everyone. But he also didn’t want to see his son suffer.

Neteyam sighed before stepping into the tent and revealing himself. Both of his parents stiffened, having suspected that he overheard their conversation. He felt caught between two and he had no other choice but to put a stop to it.

“‘Itan,” Neytiri’s expression softened, sensing the uncertainty in his eyes. She walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know that you might feel confused but I believe that accepting Eywa’s sign will lead you to being a strong leader someday. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices, but ultimately the Great Mother looks after us. Our fate is already written.”

“Whatever your grandmother decides, you don’t have to go along with it, if you don’t want to, Neteyam,” Jake added with a strained voice, “Trust your heart.”

Neytiri nodded with a small sigh. She too was conflicted, torn between her trust and her love for her son. The vision during the Dream Hunt was a rare blessing, and Neytiri didn't want Neteyam to miss out on it.

“You have been destined for greatness, ‘itan,” her expression softened, “We will be with you every step of your journey.”

“Thank you,” Neteyam looked between his parents, “But I decided to accept the sign. And I want to make you proud,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jake and Neytiri exchanged a glance. Neteyam could feel the weight of his clan's expectations heavy on his shoulders, like he couldn’t refuse, no matter how much his parents expressed they would support him. Now, as he looked at their worried faces, he knew he had to put his own desires aside for the sake of his people.

“Grandmother sent me over to get you. She has her answer,” Kiri’s voice trembled slightly as she delivered the news, interrupting their moment.

Her ears were flat against her skull, face etched with worry for the burden placed upon her brother. She could only hope that he would be happy and at peace with whatever will be decided.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

One man's joy is another man's sorrow.

Becoming the future Olo’eyktan’s mate, getting accepted into his family, being his family, filling the hole left by the death of her parents. To be granted the ultimate praise and be chosen by Tsahik, be approved, be enough. After losing everything, it all seemed too good to be true to Y/N.

Her heart sunk deep in her chest, voice hitching in her throat before words of protest could even escape. How could she agree to being with Neteyam? Sure, he was handsome, skillful, he was respected and would be sweet to her. But he wasn’t Kaye, wasn’t the one she wanted. Not the one who promised to be hers. No. It was going to be Neteyam, the future Olo’eyktan. The guy who had grown up with the eyes of the whole clan on him. Who was performing all the time, concealed his true feelings. Someone whom she didn’t know well, whom she never saw that way.

“Y/N, do you accept?” Mo’at asked, her voice louder this time.

Y/N’s thoughts raced faster at the gravity of the question. Mating with Neteyam would fulfill her duty to her people, a duty to carry on the traditions, an opportunity to belong, to be part of something bigger, greater. To finally feel useful, be able to give back to her clan. She glanced at Tsahik and could see the disapproval etched on the older woman’s features.

Any girl would kill to be in her position. It felt like a slap to even consider rejecting Neteyam, Mo’at was convinced that her grandson was going to be everything and more. She had seen him in her visions since even before he was born. He had a strong heart, was destined to be a leader, guide his clan to a better future, make a happy one for himself too.

The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, each breath Y/N took felt like a burden on her chest. Jake and Neytiri, who stood nearby, waited patiently, hoping for the answer they wanted to hear but also expecting the one they feared. It was hard to tell apart which was which. Y/N stole another glance at Neteyam, whom she had greeted only a few minutes ago, just before his grandmother revealed her vision of Y/N being mated with him. He looked guilty, chewing on his bottom lip, muscles tense, as he desperately seeked for a reaction from her, anything. He felt the guilt eating away at him, he wasn’t blind, Neteyam had seen they way she was around Kaye. He just couldn’t understand why they had never announced it to the clan. Maybe things wouldn’t be so difficult now…

“I-I,” she stuttered, “I don’t know what to say, it is a great honor but…”

“But you deny?” Mo’at raised her eyebrows in disbelief, completely baffled with her answer.

“No - yes,” Y/N stammered, shaking her head, “I am only saying that there are many women in the clan who are worthy of becoming the mate of the future Olo’eyktan. Women better than me, who would know how to lead a clan.”

Mo’at pursed her lips together, clearly dissatisfied. Y/N wanted to scream, to run away, to hide from the responsibility that was thrust upon her so unexpectedly. Neteyam's eyes bore into hers, pleading silently for a chance. But she didn't know him, not really. How could she possibly agree to mate with someone her heart didn’t long for? Neytiri shifted uncomfortably, nudging Jake to do something, anything to ease the situation. He sighed, stepping forward to Y/N.

“I know it can be hard to let people take care of you, kid, but sometimes it is okay to let yourself just be,” he placed a hand over her shoulder, his features etched with sincerity, “Your parents were great people. I thought very highly of them, I truly mean it.”

“I know, Olo’eyktan, they respected you too,” Y/N nodded weakly.

Ever since their passing, Y/N could feel Jake’s protective gaze on her. He had been looking out for her for years now, making sure that people in the clan treated her well. It was him who had asked Mo’at to take Y/N as a student because he saw the potential in her to help others. But now, it was time for him to be taking all that back, and the realization made her heart clench painfully.

“I’ve never told you this but before your mother passed away, I was there with her,” he paused for a moment, “She asked me to take care of you, to make sure you had a place in the clan. And I know of no better way to fulfill that wish than this.”

As he spoke, Y/N's felt like shrinking under the weight of his arm still resting on her shoulder. She couldn’t tell him that her heart belonged to someone else, someone she could never have because she had nothing to offer. Nothing to give, nothing to make his family think she was worthy of him.

“The sign of Eywa was clear,” Neytiri chimed in, drawing attention back to her, “Neteyam had a vision during his Dream Hunt. He saw his mate.”

“But that’s… that never happens during Dream Hunts!” Y/N seemed baffled too.

She looked at Neteyam, hoping for a further explanation, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Shame and pressure showed on his face, as if the argument made by his mother put him into an even deeper pit of despair.

“It happens rarely,” Neytiri continued, then smiled softly, as if catching up on with her own thoughts, “Very rarely, Eywa sends these signs to exceptional Na’vi. It must be her way of saying that it is time to let somebody else help him on the rest of his journey.”

Useful. It was the precise word Y/N used, whenever she asked for Tsahik’s help during the lessons. When her eyes would go red from the amount of tears she shed when she felt unwanted. When she hid herself from the man she loved because his parents would never accept her. Y/N had always been a hard worker, eager to prove herself in the clan, but no matter how much she did, it never felt enough.

Neteyam watched her with fear and desperation. Now the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to make things work. The pressure of being the perfect son, the future leader, was a weight that he needed to share with someone strong.

Then they saw it. A single atokirina’, a sacred seed that had last appeared to Y/N on the day her parents were killed, floated around her, casting a soft glow over her features. For a moment, nobody spoke, watching the seed with adoring smiles. Y/N's expression softened too, feeling as if the Great Mother herself had blessed her. Eywa had spoken.

“It seems like Eywa tries hard to convince you, my child,” Mo’at's words were soothing, her voice softening as she spoke with adoration for her world.

"To be chosen by Eywa is a wondrous thing,” Neytiri added with a grin.

Y/N’s gaze met Neteyam's, his eyes searching for any sign of what she was thinking. Did he feel the same pressure as her? Did he want this, or was he as trapped as she was?

“Is this really how it works?” Y/N asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Eywa speaks to us in many ways, my child,” Mo’at nodded.

chapter 2 →

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rubycruzin4abruzin · 9 days

Text

Forbidden Crown | Masterlist

Summary: As a princess, it’s your parent’s job to choose your spouse. Shortly after your fifth birthday, they’ve decided you are to marry Prince Airk of Tir Asleen once you turn 20. The problem is, as the years go by, you’re slowly falling in love with his twin sister, Princess Kit. In a time period filled with homophobia and sexism, how will you navigate these newfound feelings as you come of age, and your wedding day approaches nearer?

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: varies by chapter

A/N: based off this request and lightly inspired by The Miseducation of Cameron Post. I’m so excited to start this series, and I appreciate all of your support. Masterlist under the cut :)

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III (TBA)

Chapter IV (TBA)

Chapter V (TBA)

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lokischocolatefountain · 6 months

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Unveiled || Chapter 1

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG 13 for violence. Subsequent chapters’ ratings may vary

Word count: 1.7k words

Summary: Saving a life was noble. You didn’t expect applause or praise for it. But kriff it would be nice if you weren’t treated as the scum of the Earth for it.

A/N: Gonna make this the SADvent calendar instead of the advent calendar. At this point, I have to admit that I won’t be posting everyday. But I’ll still post when I can. When I have internet and am able. Lot of shit happened. My friend and I got fucked over in three different cities in a very short period of time. We were humiliated in Venice, robbed by an intentionally dysfunctional system in Riyadh, and almost sexually exploited in New Delhi. It’s a round the globe horror story. But some good things happened too- we made friends through our shared trauma and I got to meet my internet friend I’ve been moots with for a loooong time. So in true fanfic writer fashion, here’s a fic I’ve been writing posted during some of the most difficult days of my life

“Go!”

He screamed loud enough to break through the sounds of the intensifying battle. You ignored his heart-wrenching screams and dragged him with all your strength, your own weapon slung over your shoulder and reachable should you need it to defend the wounded Mandalorian. You were a warrior, trained through years of life or death battles. It was why you were sent to the Mandalorian covert on Navarro to train with them. But this was an impossible one. Even for you. Even for the man you were dragging past enemy combatants using your own body as a shield.

You settled him against the walls of the cave you’d dragged him into. You reached into your armor and retrieved the bacta patches you had with you. You took a look at the patches and then at the large gash on his neck that went up who knew how far. The hope you had for saving his life dwindled. But you couldn’t give up. The motto of your teachers back home rang loud and clear in your head.

No soldiers left behind. No life collateral.

“Not s-safe. Not safe you— Listen to me,” he choked out as you leaned in close and inspected his wound.

“Shut up, Din! Shut the fuck up!” You spat as you retrieved more medical supplies from your pouch. You’d done this many times in training. You could do this. You could fucking do this!

“My helmet…” he whimpered too soft to be audible if you weren’t so close to him.

“It’ll be okay, Din. I got you,” you reassured as your brain finally comprehended the exact risk he was in and you knew what you had to do.

“This is gonna hurt at first, alright?” You warned more than asked as you inserted the needle. It was the last thing you did before he lost consciousness in your arms. The last thing you did before making the big mistake that would change the course of both your lives.

———

“Din.”

He looked up at you from his bed, resting after a long session in the bacta tank. You imagined him underneath the helmet, the only face you knew in the covert other than that of the children who were yet to take the creed. His features came to memory, bloodied and bruised and at the edge of life itself. His strong nose, his messy black hair and blood. So much fucking blood. That he was alive at all was a miracle.

“Din?” You called again when he did not respond.

“Why are you here?” He asked, his voice stoic, emotionless as it came through his helmet. It was how it always was. Something about wearing a helmet filtered out part of the humanity of voices. But there was something about the way he spoke this time that was chilling to you.

“I…I just wanted to see if you’re doing well.”

He snorted, turning away from you as though your mere presence disgusted him. Rage boiled through your veins as pain shot up through your legs as a reminder of the blow you’d taken in the process of saving his fucking life.

“You know what? Fuck you, Din. I know you’re hurt and shit, but you have no right to speak to me like that.”

“Get out. Right now. I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

You flinched at the way he spoke. The coldness of his voice and the words themself. You turned away from him and walked out of his room, bearing the pain in your leg as you trodded on to your own room. You didn’t expect him to thank you. No, that was not why you saved his life at the risk of ending your own. But you didn’t expect him to behave so appallingly either. You raked through your addled mind for clues on what you could possibly have done to deserve this. Did you say something before the battle? No, it couldn’t be. You’d exchanged few words before battle and he was…nice. As amiable as could be for a man who spoke in grunts and sighs more than he did words.

You crashed on your own bed, whimpering when the act shot another piercing sensation throughout your body. It did nothing to alleviate your anger for Din, reminding you of what you’d done to yourself for him. For someone you thought a friend until now.

On a strange planet, fighting for space and acceptance, Din was one of the first people to be amicable to you. Well, you took his grunts and sighs as a sign of friendliness. For all his stoicism and his beskar like facade, he never did snap or show signs that he wanted you to fuck right off. So you stuck by. Stuck by when training, when you ate your meals and he sat by listening to your idle chatter. Stuck by when he took a hit and needed saving.

Perhaps he had a concussion.

That should be it. For a man clad fully in beskar, he had a soft heart. Never did he speak to you or anyone else in the harsh manner he just spoke to you. You shivered as images of his dark messy hair and blood so dark it matched returned to your mind. His closed eyes and his limp body collapsing on you as you attempted to remove the shrapnel that has somehow gotten underneath his helmet to his skull. A sharp pain shot through your leg again and you let out a cry. It was a mess pop emotions. You were happy it did not hurt as much as it did on the battlefield yet annoyed that your body was outside your control.

You jumped, both from the pain and from the opening of the door. You looked up, hoping to find the nurse droid that visited you every now and then to check your vitals. The gleaming gold helmet on a tall, strong stature told you that this was no small visitor. Despite all the beskar and the strong shoulders that carried an entire covert, she was very human.

She said you name, in a way that was gentle, calming, yet told you that she could be relied on.

“Did we win?” You managed to ask through the spasms of pain.

“We did,” she said, stopping in front of you. “You did well, warrior.”

You snorted. “I succumbed within minutes of the battle.”

“You did. So did a few others. That does not make you any less of a warrior. You were valiant.”

Despite disagreeing, you nodded. You were in no mood to start an argument with the leader of the community that was housing, feeding, teaching, and caring for you. No matter how much you disagreed with their way of life.

“So, do you visit everyone who got a little scratch of their leg?”

“I do, yes. But my visit is not just to check on your wellness.”

“Oh?”

“You saved one of ours. Din Djarin.”

You said nothing, feeling too embarrassed to acknowledge it even though it was true. It would sound too much like boasting if you accepted. In poor taste in your dismissed it. It was best to take a sip out of the mandalorian pog soup and remain silent.

“Do you know what this means for his future?”

You tilted your head as you considered her words. What the kriff was she expected to say to that? What if it was a rhetorical question and you’d just acted like a womp rat in the snow about it?

“You removed his helmet, soldier.”

“To tend to his wound,” you quickly interrupted. “You— you didn’t see what— you weren’t there! He would’ve died if I hadn’t done that,” you sputtered, shaking your head in disbelief of the implication in her words. The Mandalorian were quite strict about wearing their helmets. Once a child took the creed and wore their helmet, they would never take it off again. But there were exceptions. Right? There had to be. Receiving emergency medical help had to be one of them.

“I know.”

You waited, not for long, for her to proceed. For her to reassure you that it did not count because you had no other choice but to remove his helmet to save his life. With no words coming from her, you shot up from the bed, pain be damned and dragged yourself to where she stood.

“He would have died!”

“I know,” she said, more sternly this time.

“Go on then, tell me how you are going to punish him for the audacity to be alive.”

“He became an apostate the moment his face was seen by a living thing.”

“An apostate?”

“He has strayed from the way and will be cast out from the covert. He is Mandalorian no more.”

You shook your head frantically. That was some bantha shit! “No. No, no, no. No,” you sputtered. “That is not fair. Look, it’s not his fault. He was unconscious when it happened— when I did it,” you said, thumping your chest. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He told me to go away. He was ready to die. Kriff— you can’t— This is not fair,” you screamed, your voice breaking at the cruelty of it all.

“This is the way,” she said in a manner that was too cold for you to consider calm.

“Oh, for void’s sake, spare me the kriff about the way. What kind of way of life is it to cast someone out for being alive?” You spat, all your reservations about rudeness and your sense of cultural relativism flying off into a blackhole.

“There is only one way for him to remain in the covert and he rejected the proposal. Said he could not possibly do that to you.”

“What is it? Does the way ask for a human sacrifice? Is that what it will take to keep him from being excommunicated from everyone he knows and loves?”

“I understand you think us barbarians, soldier. I will discount it on account of your efforts to save one of our own. And for how you have protected us. There need be no blood. Only the establishment of a riduurok so that he will have been seen by the only being he is permitted to show himself to.”

“What is a riduurok?” You asked, even though you had a sinking feeling about it.

“Marriage.”

Masterlist

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