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cevansbrat0007 · 5 months

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Cross-Country Christmas (Teaser)

Summary: After Ari is left stranded by a surprise winter storm, you find yourself wishing for a little Christmas miracle...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Holiday Themes, Smut, Arguments, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, More Warnings to Come Minors DNI

A/N: This is only a TEASER, the longer fic is coming soon. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

8:30am on Christmas Day - Bell’s Creek, Texas

“I promise I’ll be fine, Beast.” Drying your tears, you crumble up your tissues in your fist before discarding them in favor of taking a sip of your coffee. “Like you just said, there’ll be other holidays. And certainly other Christmases.”

Ari was still stuck in Omaha. And while you had suspected this call was coming, you hadn’t been prepared for how much the disappointment would affect you.

By all accounts, your Bounty Hunter appeared to be in good spirits, albeit a little tired. He was still on standby, even though all flights were still grounded indefinitely. But you’d at least been happy to hear that he’d somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep.

Not only that, but he’d also made a new friend in some guy named Clint. They apparently had a number of things in common, with the most important being that they’d both served overseas. Ari had also alluded to his new buddy being in law enforcement as well.

But if you were being honest, you’d been so focused on trying to sound positive that you hadn’t quite been able to focus on his words as much as you would’ve liked. Thankfully, Ari seemed keen on having a conversation – even if it felt a bit one-sided.

“The airline keeps offering to put us up for the night. Anyone who accepts will be guaranteed a spot on one of the first flights out.” Ari coughs softly before continuing. “However, if you’re willing to wait a little bit there’s talk about them sweetening the deal with some sort of voucher or somethin’, plus miles and all that shit.”

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, forcing yourself to take another pull of your now lukewarm coffee.

“Yeah. So, Clint and I were thinking…” He trails off, briefly leaning away from the receiver to comment on something you couldn’t see.

“You two were thinking…what?” Your next sip of coffee tastes surprisingly bitter on your tongue. Maybe you would dump out the pot and brew a fresh one.

“That we should take ‘em up on their offer and just ride this storm out. We take the points, get the voucher, and then maybe in a month or two, we go on a vacation together somewhere nice.”

“You and Clint?!” You screech, accidentally knocking over your mug in the process. “Shit!” You scramble out of your chair to grab a dish towel and hurriedly mop up the mess.

“Hate to break it to ya, baby, but Clint’s not really my type.” The Bounty Hunter chuckles into the phone. “I was talking about me and you, Bird. We can pick a destination and have ourselves a holiday do-over.”

A beat goes by before you respond the only way that makes any real, logical sense. Even though it seems to take every last bit of your resolve.

“Okay.” Your voice comes out small and resigned.

“Aw now, don’t fret. I’ll be home soon.” Ari does his best to reassure you. “And once I’m back, we will spend every waking minute making up for lost time. You have my word.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“I guess we can hold off for a little while longer.” You sniff, wishing you could just go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. “But you had better keep your promise, Beast. Otherwise I’m gonna have to track down Santa and ask him for a new man.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humor elicits a short bark of laughter from Ari which, in turn, makes you smile as well. It would be hard, but you could make it

“Try it, sweet Bird, and I’m telling you right now that I’ll have you in my truck and over my knee before you make it outta the next county.” Comes his gruff response, clearly not enjoying the image of you hanging off another fella’s arm.

You know without asking that he’s probably not kidding – so you decide to leave it alone. If he wanted to thump his chest a little, then you’d let him.

“It was a joke.” You tell him when the line falls silent. Standing, you pad towards the fridge on bare feet, stopping once you reach the doors. Yanking one open, you survey the contents, silently wondering if you should even be bothered enough to cook today. Granted, you’d already brined the turkey so –

“Joking about my replacement isn’t funny, Bird.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Especially when I can’t be there in person to plead my case.”

You blow out a harsh breath at the same time as your eyes roll heavenwards. Why couldn't he understand that you needed to crack wise here and there in order to keep from crying?

END TEASER

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jeannineee · 11 months

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Honestly, I’m in the mood for angst. I’d be so heartbreaking being Cassian‘s lover and when he mates he doesn’t tell you at first and you have to find out last. And he just says that he didn’t know how to tell you and Nesta being a bitch again (yea I don’t like her)

Doubt

Cassian x Reader

a/n: anon you’re sadistic for requesting this!! (Jk but OUCH!!!) Cassian is an ass in this!! I didn’t include nesta in this part, but maybe there’ll be a part 2? Idk.

warnings: suggestiveness, cheating—depending on how you define it, ooc Cassian?

In the ninety-four years that you’d loved Cassian, you’d never known him to be a liar.

In fact, he was honest to a fault. His mouth had gotten him into trouble countless times. But, it was a trait that you’d grown fond of. You’d grown accustomed to it. Because of this, you’d immediately clocked when Cassian began acting suspicious.

It started out as him coming home later than normal. You didn’t think much of it at first, due to his duties as the General. Besides, when you asked him about it, he always had a reason for it.

Training the Valkyrie ran late.

Drinks with Az and Rhys.

He’d never given you any reason to doubt him, so you accepted it.

The concern and fear grew when Cassian’s physical affection slowly dwindled. He always, always had to be touching you in some way. A hand on the small of your back, your pinkies intertwined at dinner with your friends. You’d kept him grounded. Or so you thought.

You didn’t ask him about it, at first. You came up with excuses for him.

Maybe he’s just been in a bad mood, lately.

People change, right? It’s a normal part of life.

What had really hurt, though? It seemed like he no longer desired you. Not just sexually, but in any way.

After a month of this behavior, you’d gathered the courage to confront him. The two of you were sat at the dining table, an uncomfortable silence filling the room as you’d run out of things to talk about.

It had never been like this, with Cassian. Something was wrong.

“Cass, are you cheating on me?” You felt guilty as soon as the question left your lips. A part of you felt like an insecure little girl, but you needed to know.

“No,” Cassian answered immediately, but he still couldn’t meet your eyes.

You swallowed thickly, before taking his hand into yours. “Then what’s going on? You’ve been acting off lately, and—“

“I think I found my mate.”

The words ripped through your chest, and if felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room.

Hundreds of questions swam through your mind, but the only one you could manage to utter was, “Who?”

Cassian finally met your eyes, but his expression was unreadable. “Nesta.”

Nesta Archeron. Your best friend’s sister, Your lover’s mate.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying, and pulled your hand away from his.

“Is she the reason you’ve been coming home late?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’ve only spoken to her twice,” Cassian replied. “I kept coming home late because I was afraid. Afraid to tell you. Afraid to confront the fact that I’ve found my mate.”

‘My mate.’ He said it so casually. As though your near-century of loving one another was a blip of existence compared to the few weeks he’s known Nesta.

“Are you…” you trail off, forcing back tears. “…are you going to pursue her?”

Cassian went silent. That’s when your tears finally fell.

“We’ve been together for almost a century,” you said through a sob.

At the sight of you, Cassian’s heart shattered, and his own tears began forming. “I know,” he said quietly.

“Is what you f-feel for her stronger than what you feel for me?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “I don’t know what I feel for her. It isn’t love but…”

It’s the bond. He can’t help but be drawn to her.

You sniffled, wiping at your face. “I um…I…” you faltered. The words you were about to say made you feel like you were dying. “I understand…if you want to…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say them. But Cassian knew what you meant.

“I think—I think I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight,” Cassian muttered, swiping a tear away from his cheek.

You rose from your seat, barely able to look at him. A near-century of soul-consuming love. Is it really going to end like this?

“Yeah. I think you should.”

#acotar headcanon #acotar #cassian acotar #Cassian angst #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #Cassian x reader #nesta archeron #nesta

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cerise-on-top · 11 days

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Hi!

I noticed you did a Tall!Husband with the Task Force, could I ask for the same prompt with Nikolai, Farah, Alejandro, and Rudy, if you haven't already?

Thanks you! /nf

Hey there! Here you go!

Alejandro, Rodolfo, Farah and Nikolai with a Very Tall Husband

Alejandro: He takes you being this tall in stride. Sure, he would have preferred being the bigger guy among the both of you, but he won’t actively go out of his way to be butthurt about it. That just means he’s finally found someone who can wrap himself around him, and for that he’s grateful. You make for a nice cuddle buddy. Alejandro is quite the cuddler in general, so he’ll often just walk up to you just to cuddle you. He’s not above asking you to get something from a high shelf either, always rewarding you with a kiss to your cheek as well. Overall, there’ll be lots of cuddles, even if he sometimes might try to climb you as well. It’s his way of showing off just how strong he is. However, he will call you things such as “skyscraper”, but he loves it as much as he loves you. You’re just such a sweetheart. Alejandro will invite you to just about anything he does, as long as it’s not related to his job. He’s well aware that you’re super intimidating and scary to everyone else, but all he can see is his lover with the biggest heart imaginable. If you scare Rodolfo too much, though, then he’ll ask you to tone it down by quite a bit. Rodolfo has done nothing wrong, plus the two of them are very close. Ideally, you and Rodolfo would also get along well with each other. But other than that? Alejandro doesn’t really mind you being this scary. It just means that people feel less inclined to walk up to the both of you and bother you while you’re out on a date. He feels a bit torn on PDA, though. Trust me when I say he wants to give you hugs and kisses in public so everyone knows you’re his, but he holds back a bit since he doesn’t wanna endanger you. Secretly dreams of dipping you under the moonlight and giving you a big old kiss. While he can get very heated himself in the right situation, he’s a real sweetheart towards you as well, so the both of you would fit very well with each other.

Rodolfo: On the one hand, he’s not happy at all with you being such a giant. On the other hand he loves it. He wanted to be the taller guy among the two of you so he can make you feel protected. At least that’s what he’ll sometimes say to you, feigning hurt. In reality he’s going wild on the inside because his lovely husband can wrap himself entirely around him and give him the best hugs imaginable. Rodolfo gets to feel calm and at ease whenever you do that. Although he normally wouldn’t be as willing to do such a thing, he’d also have an easier time walking up to you and asking you for some cuddles. Especially with him being the one to be held. It’s a huge thing for him, but you’re a guy, his husband, so it should be quite alright. Is also a lot more affectionate with you in private than he normally would be. Lots of kisses, rubbing your noses together, pressing your foreheads together, all that stuff. He actually quite likes you being this scary towards other people, that just means he doesn’t have to deal with as many people when going out, so he likely will take you with him as much as possible. Scare everyone all you want, aside from Alejandro. That’s his best friend, you really shouldn’t be scaring that guy. Not that you properly could anyway, but still. If anything, you should be getting along with him so that the three of you can hang out together more often. Everyone else is fair game, though. One thing you can definitely count on is that he’ll, without using any words, ask you to run your fingers through his hair. All Rodolfo wants is to lie on his husband, have him run his fingers through his hair, and then fall asleep. He’s such a sucker for being on the receiving end of physical affection, and lucky for him, you’re willing to give it to him. If you want to talk to him while he’s falling asleep, then you may. Your voice calms him down greatly and lulls him to sleep. In order to show his gratitude, he’ll learn how to become the best cook out there. You will be well fed under your shared roof.

Farah: She’s of average height for a woman, so roughly 1,65m. You being taller than 2,10m is quite the height difference between the both of you. However, that doesn’t stop her from sassing you out of love from time to time. She’s not intimidated by you at all. She doesn’t really care about you being this tall, but sometimes she thinks about going to the sea with you and just messing around in the water together. You’re such a sweetheart, surely you’d be on board for such a thing. She could always just ask you to lean down for a kiss, but that would be boring. She climbs you like a tree and kisses you then as she holds onto you. Farah needs to show off just how strong she is, to everyone around you too. Not that anyone would ever doubt her strength, she’s the commander, after all, but it’s the thought that counts. Because of your height difference, she loves just walking up to you and giving you a big hug. Either from the front or behind is fine by her. If she’s hugging you from behind then that means she’s asserting dominance. You may be the taller one out of the both of you, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be the dominant one. You being this scary sometimes bothers her, though, especially when children are around. The adults likely can handle themselves, especially once she tells them that you’re, for the most part, not going to hurt them. But children will start crying upon seeing you, so she asks you to tone it down around them. She knows you wouldn’t hurt anyone, but still. You can be as scary as you want to be, as long as you don’t hurt anyone. You don’t need to glare daggers at everyone, though, since no one is going to take her from you. Farah’s loyal like that. Something that Farah would have definitely loved to do with you would be to have you lie on top of her, with her running her hands over your back and telling you how much she loves you. Unfortunately, you’d likely crush her. That doesn’t mean she won’t hold you close while standing, though. Again, she needs to assert her dominance in some way. You being such a sweetheart towards her really motivates her to keep fighting the good fight, though. She wants to fight for a future in which the both of you can live together in a nice home without the fear of war. A future in which the both of you can just go out and look at the scenery as the sun rises. Either way, that future isn’t as far away as it used to be.

Nikolai: He’s a very tall lad himself, standing proud at 1,98m. However, the first time he saw you, someone even taller than him, he had to chuckle a bit. It was a rarity for someone to be much taller than him, but he doesn’t mind. Nikolai isn’t sensitive. Nothing can stop him from proving himself to you, though, and picking you up. He does it with quite ease too since he’s such a strong lad. If you’re quite the cuddler, then so is he. He’s a chameleon in that regard, he can be whatever you want or need him to be. Either way, he’ll still mostly have you lying on top of him. Although he could go either way, it’s still a pride thing for him. Having someone as tall as you be vulnerable with him, lying on top of him while not fighting him at all, it feeds his ego. Yes, he’s strong. You better know that as well. Besides, he’s pretty sure he can make you feel protected like this as well. Won’t fight you if you want to hold him for once, though. He just loves having his husband in his arms as well, holding him close and giving him a few kisses to the crown of his head. He doesn’t mind you being this scary towards other people. It just shows you that you really don’t want anyone but him, so to some degree it’s even very sweet to him. You can scare anyone you want, aside from the important people. He also likes it because that means less people will come up to him and ask him stuff. He likes being left alone with you quite a lot. Besides, as long as you don’t scare people like Price or Laswell, not that you could anyway, they’re both tough cookies, you’re all good. Anyone else isn’t as important anyway. Because you’re such a sweetheart towards him, he’ll often take you just about anywhere. To his little home in Siberia, to St. Petersburg, anywhere he knows you won’t be in too much danger. Showing you around Russia is one of his favorite things to do. He’s a patriot, so he loves combining his love for his country with his love for you. You’ll get to see a lot of places that way.

#cod #cod x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #farah karim #farah karim x reader #cod nikolai #nikolai x reader

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wsdanon · 3 months

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Oooh fit in the fuga universe is so interesting too! I wonder how their relationships would be affected by being in Alcatraz. Also, what would Cell and fit think of each other if they met in that time instead of in the future in quesadilla island! There is so much potential in this idea!!

hm I feel a little better now so I can think about the idea more. and writing the first bit this is already kind of long and I have a lot more to say so I think this will be going under a cut lol \o/

also just to be clear there’ll be no spoilers for my 2bxfuga fic this is just me expanding on an idea for the reverse I came up with earlier

I think it’s much harder to make work than the other way around but also this is fanfic so who cares. fit has been in normal society before going to 2b2t and hasn’t been there for as long as on qsmp by the time he gets out. I think he adjusts fairly quickly to the rules but not in his mindset (probably similar to on the island but there’s a difference of everyone around him could still be enemies so he’s not as chill)

fit and cell would be especially interesting to me. I think they would immediately size each other up as being from similar places (kill or be killed places: the war versus the wasteland) and they’d either get along really well because of this familiarity or they’d hate each other. i think you could honestly argue for both ways but for a fitpac story fit and cell hating each other makes more sense

imagine them seeing the new guy come in and he’s immediately pretty cold to cell specifically. also he looks buff and capable as fuck and he’s in for murder \o/ think them trying to hire a gang to protect themselves from cell. maybe they approach him and go “hey we don’t like this guy that you don’t like—how about we team up?”

would fit agree to this? well I think out of his comfort zone in a prison where he doesn’t speak the language (and with pac asking) he’d agree. purely strategic not at all because pac was the one asking (okay maybe a little because it was pac)

fitpac interlude: pac seems pretty into polyamory so I don’t think whatever he has going on with fit will change what’s going on with cell but it might make him think twice about it/might not make it so extreme. I always use the idea that fuga takes place over a year so pac flirting with cell is partially to try and get him to not just kill them whenever he gets mad at them. having the slowburn with fit could just make his feelings for cell less genuine but wouldn’t stop the flirting (pac flirting with prison guards and bobinho even now that he’s dating fit)

mike is honestly probably relieved by this and even though he doesn’t trust fit as much he warms up to him a lot quicker than in my 2bxfuga fic I would say. as now pac has some other hot violent guy to fall in love with and this one doesn’t want to kill him. plus they haven’t had all their horrible experiences with cell yet so the two being similar in his mind doesn’t ring any alarm bells (unlike in the fic) and by the time it would, he already trusts fit

they probably don’t tell him about the escape plans until much later on and they trust him more. and then escape plans have to be delayed to account for another person. I’m not sure how much it would change of the overall plot because to me the biggest plot points are: 1) pac loses a leg 2) they escape—and I wouldn’t want to get rid of either of these

maybe they manage to escape without bringing cell with them? abandoning him at the prison instead of island? maybe JV survives? But then they wouldn’t bring Guaxinim with them… I’m not sure. if I ever wrote something for this it wouldn’t be like what I’m writing with the other version of the au now it’d just be a oneshot maybe. I already have two multi-chaptered fics I’m balancing I don’t think I could manage another lol

#wsd/n.ewidea #wsd/a.sks #wsd/a.non

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nishibishi · 2 years

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KISS THREAT | JEON JUNGKOOK (ONE-SHOT)

description: You swear to god there's something definitely wrong with you, because you're ninety-nine percent sure, there's not even in a hell's chance for you to be in love with Jungkook. Too bad, it's not hundred percent yet.

pairing: jeon jungkook X f.reader

rating: nc-17

genre: humor, angst, hinted smut, a lil’ bit of fluff (hehe)

word count: 2.6k

tags: bestfriends!au, enemies-to-lovers!au, mutual pining

warning: blasphemy; mentions of psychological disorders, the word ‘apocalypse, death; jungkook and oc are brats; hinted smut

note: hey there!!! this is my first time writing a fan-fiction, and since I’m not a native English speaker, pardon me for any grammatical errors that might be in there :))))) moreover, I absolutely suck at writing up a graphic smut so forgive me for that too. I promise there’ll be a lot more coming up and surely, with the required improvement and better plotlines. Constructive criticism is always welcome, as your warm response, appreciation, suggestions and regards are definitely gonna be a booster dose of motivation. also, the story is set up in an alternate universe, which means none of the characters here exist in reality.

P.S. I had to re-post it because I'd forgotten to add the description. I'm really really sorry.

‘This is just my post-period mood swings.’ This is just the 1700th time you’ve mentally told yourself in this one hour. Good for you, this reasonable (solely in your opinion) explanation has almost got you into a hold of phantom state of well-being and almost discarded the notion about you being mentally and emotionally unstable. Too bad, it’s just ‘almost’.

Fortunately, this justification sounds sane enough to be believed. The previous hour had you contemplating on more bizarre extremities: personality disorders, apocalypse, growing economic disparities and social injustice in the world, global warming and even cosmic radiations to be put to blame for the sudden behavioral changes in you.

Yet none of these ridiculous explanations can deny one undeniable fact.

You’re in love with Jeon Jungkook.

Eight years ago, you had come to New York City, with no close contacts and barely any family support on your side. Your conservative Asian parents had aspired for you to become a surgeon. But better late than never, you came to realize your true passion for literature.

It had dawned upon you that writing love poetries about the dusky evenings and the moonless nights wasn’t just a favorite past-time but a never-ending love saga, which possibly couldn’t end into a tragedy.

So you decided that it was high time for you to leave Missouri and go to New York.

But your family didn’t take your confrontation well. To them, the idea of sending their only child to pursue an uncertain career in an unknown place hadn’t appeared so flattering. Yet after a tremendous period of begging, praying and protesting, they had finally agreed.

The first day of college had you feeling extremely anxious and nervous, but within a week, you found yourself mingling with the group of infamous Asian people, who warmly welcomed your presence in the group.

One of them was Jeon Jungkook, a nineteen years-old guy from the Korean peninsula, pursuing a degree in Hotel Management. Your friends had described him as the shy, reserved and charming flower boy of the group.

However, 3 months passed, and you came to realize that he was none of it. Bratty, obnoxious and obstinate, Jungkook was the true embodiment of the Casanova Greek Gods up above in the heaven. Even breathing in the same space with him, vexed you to such an unbelievable extent that you preferred to burn yourself alive rather than replying back to his flirtatious texts.

That was your relationship with him. You combating with his flamboyant charisma for every microsecond passing by while he continued to pour his charm and affection on you.

Even after the college had ended, your friend circle never lost its bonding with time. The memories of your friends meeting your parents for the first time are still fresh in your mind. Initially, you had been skeptical about your parent’s reaction. But to your surprise, your parents were amazed by the cultural diversity among your friends and warmly welcomed each one of them, as if they were their own blood, and you were the one freeloading onto them.

However, the most unexpected event was the instant bonding up between Jungkook and your mother. Jungkook must’ve got her into a strong hold, because even till now, when she calls you up, she prefers to ask more questions about Jungkook’s new Biryani recipe rather than asking you about your well-being.

Jungkook & you have always done things together. Let it be your first book getting published or Jungkook’s first day as a junior chef at Keen’s Steakhouse, it’s either together or nothing at all.

Until the last month, when Jungkook made it official with girlfriend Sera, whom he had been secretly dating. Your friends were surprised, but you, were shocked to death. You couldn’t believe yourself for witnessing the love hypothesis Sera and him were making. The idea of someone as unsettled as Jungkook settling down had left you severely unsettled.

So unsettled, that you’d stopped watching and reading pornography, stopped bargaining for prices at the supermarket, stopped sending dirty crass memes on your group-chat and started pouring milk before cereal. For the whole fucking month.

That’s when your conscience made you think, that maybe, just maybe, you did like Jungkook. But this thought appeared so infuriating to you, that you found yourself under the vicinity of various excuses and put the blame onto the blank history of your life. And soon, you were back being obnoxious and clumsy. But you knew how bad you were at pretending. And your friends knew better, and yet no one budges to disclose the reason of your restlessness. They spare you the time to think and the space to contemplate.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t help significantly as Jungkook himself is your friend, and unlike the rest of your friends, he doesn’t know anything about the concept of personal space. In fact, invading one’s privacy is his biggest kink in this universe. Especially if he’s intruding you. And every single time, when he leans in closely, to hear you just telling him to ‘fuck off’, you fear the proximity, because you’re afraid of him hearing the loud thumping of your heartbeat. But you’re quick enough to recover. As usual, like always.

However, last week, something happened.

All of a sudden, Jungkook broke ties with Sera. His first-ever official relationship didn’t even last for twenty-eight days. This should’ve worried you, he’s a friend after all. But you, on the contrary, felt relieved, as if some load had been lifted off your chest. And then, it hit you hard. That perhaps you didn’t like Jungkook, you loved him. This sudden realization was so emotionally taxing on you, that last night, you ended up texting Jungkook, that you wanted to tell him something very impertinent. Something along the lines of “Hey, Jeon. I think I’m in love with the idea of being in love with you. So yeah, basically, I’m in love with you. And oh boy, believe me, you suck.”

Now, the very same Jungkook had been sitting beside you on your couch for past two hours and thirty minutes, watching “Black Swan” with you. Now the opportunity was presenting itself in front of you, and you were dreading it, would be an understatement.

“So what were you gonna tell me?” Jungkook’s voice breaks through the thickness of awkward silence, bringing you back to the reality, as you see the credits rolling over the screen.

“Nothing, really.” You try to play it cool as you continue munching onto the leftover Pringles.

Jungkook turns his head from the screen, his darting over yours, as his eyebrows lifts up in confusion.

“Y/N, you’re the one who called me up yesterday, because you had to tell me something very ‘important’.” You feel your muscles tense up as you see him air-quoting the word important. The sincerity in his eyes is more than enough for you to spill everything out, but you hold onto that hesitation as you meet his eyes.

“Jeon, I’m fine, okay? I just think it was because of my mood swings and nothing else.” You place your hand on his shoulder, trying to put a more convincing act as you smile at him.

Jungkook, however scoffs and changes his sitting position as he turns his body towards you, his left thigh now placed on the couch and his left hand placed on the headrest, his full attention on you now.

But your sole attention is on his highlighting crotch, aiming directly at you, as carnal desires fill up your dirty mind, yet you’re quick enough to regain your composure as you make eye contact with Jungkook, and you can tell, he isn’t having any of your bullshit today.

“Do I look like a dumb-fuck to you, Y/N? At least don’t lie to my fucking face.”

“Jungkook, dude, I’m not-”

“It’s been a month since you’ve started acting weird.” He cuts you off before you can explain yourself and guilt washes you up as you see the agitation in his eyes.

“Million times I’ve asked you and million times you’ve lied to me, but not this time, Y/N. You know what, I feel like I’m the only one putting up my hundred percent in this friendship.” His shoulders drop as his head hangs low.

You’ve never seen Jungkook flushing red with so much anger, profanities threatening to overflow from his lips, if the demo before wasn’t enough. The disappointment is sheer evident in his eyes. He looks exhausted from putting up with you. And your mind goes blank.

For the first time in your life, you’re afraid of losing Jungkook. Afraid of losing his friendship and everything that comes along with it.

His head is still hanging low, his nostrils flaring with anger, when all of a sudden your mouth develops a mind of its own and you blurt it out.

“I’m in love with you.” The words falling from your lips are merely little louder than a whisper, but Jungkook’s ears are quick enough to catch them. He instantly freezes and his eyebrows knit up in confusion.

“What?” His gaze rests upon you expectantly as you calm yourself down and repeat yourself, each and every word clearly.

“Jeon Jungkook, I think I’m in love with you.” Jungkook’s eyeball gauging out of their sockets, his jaw hanging on the floor as the shock apparently triggered his body too hard, as he takes in your words, remaining in that super-awkward pose for sometime. You close your eyes, the sick anticipation of rejection hitting your heart. You’re prepared to face the upcoming defeat, ready to take refuge in friend-zone or even worse, sister-zone.

But it never comes. Because after ten seconds of your confession, you witness Jungkook jumping out of the couch, falling onto the floor and rolling, holding his stomach for life as he laughs hysterically.

“What’s so funny?” You hadn’t expected any of this, especially the kind of outburst Jungkook is projecting out right now. Your question, however, doesn’t help as he continues to laugh louder than before, this time somehow managing to secure a seat on couch beside you, yet failing to understand the seriousness of the situation.

“Shut the fuck up.” You rebuke with the ever-increasing anger inside you.

“I can’t.” He manages to reply in between his mocking laughter. He is certainly having the best time of his life, meanwhile you’re sneering with annoyance, the flames of burning aggression reaching its peak. So you end up blurting out the most stupid thing that comes into your brain.

“Shut up or I’ll kiss you.”

The world must have stopped its course, an apocalypse is surely on its way and cosmic radiations must encroached your entirety as your ability to sense things has absolutely gone downhill. The realization dawns upon you that Jungkook has stopped laughing now, as he looks at you in amusement and curiosity.

“You, out of all people, are gonna kiss me? That’s a dangerous territory, Y/N.” He comes closer as he leans in, his musky scent challenging the control you hold over your conscience. Your weak response must’ve boosted his ego by zillion times, because the next moment, you see him closing the gap between you two, as his lips graze your the shell of your ears, which are probably glowing red by the proximity between you two.

“You’ve bombarded me with death threats so many times and every single time, I’ve laughed it off as nothing. But now you’ve presented me a mere kiss threat…” Jungkook says as he rests his head on your shoulder “…and for the first time, I actually feel threatened.”

You can hear the loud thumping of your heart, and the way Jungkook’s heartbeat resonates with your own, it’s maddening. His breathing relaxed and deep, one of his hands grips the curve of your waist, while the other one finds its home in the cavern of your neck. His fingertips trace the sharp outline of your neckbones as you two confide in each other silently.

How blinded you’d been all this time by your reluctance to sense Jungkook’s internal war with your resistance. The passion in his eyes had been imminent since the beginning, his boldness that was latent to the others, only coming to life when you were in his vicinity, his gaze lingering on you for a minute longer to be considered appropriate for someone one would regard as a mere friend.

There was a mute, invisible intimacy between Jungkook and you. You felt it whenever your hands brushed accidentally, you felt it whenever you would make eye contact and a smile threatened to stretch on your lips and you felt it whenever Jungkook added a new romantic song in your collaborative Spotify playlist.

You had been aware all along the way, conversely, you had been hyperaware about the subsequent consequences way too much, only to neglect whatever held you two together.

The penultimate realization must have struck you hard, as a shiver runs down your spine when Jungkook starts letting you go, pulling away only to stop few inches away from your lips.

“What will you do if I tell you I feel the same way? Will you push me away?” Jungkook whispers as his breath touches your lips. His hands cup your face as you close the gap between you two, your lips connecting with his, the taste of vanilla evident as his lips move gently against yours. While his hands slip down to waist, your hands wrap around his neck, one of your hands running through his luscious black hair.

A minute later, you feel Jungkook’s weight slowly heaving upon your body as you recline back on the couch while he manages to place himself in between your legs as he kisses you deeply. After a few seconds, he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, as you both gasp for breath.

“I love you, Y/N. Damn, I can’t believe I waited for eight years for you to just say it to me today.” You both chuckle wholeheartedly as he stares deep into your eyes.

“Want me to make it up you then?” You tease him as you run your hands on his back over his T-shirt, eliciting a moan out of his lips as he leans down to place butterfly kisses on your neck.

“You sure you want to do it?” He inquires as he raises himself up once again and looks at you earnestly.

“Yeah. I don’t think I can wait anymore.” You reassure him with sincerity, as you both get up from the couch and rush to your bedroom, Jungkook carrying you in his arms, promising love and harmony for whatever lies ahead in the future.

copyrights reserved for © nishibishi | 2022

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oh-snapperss · 1 year

Text

Promise I Held (Just Out of Reach)

hi guys. this is a cowrite by me and @tunastime, a continuation of our hot tea fics we wrote a few months ago. you don't have to have read them to read this, but it adds to the experience!

words: 3788

warnings: none

read on ao3!

On the top of a large, grey-white slab of rock, a figure looks to the sky.

Bdubs is sitting on the warm rock face and wondering when the sun might set. He sighs. The air in his chest feels short. He chews at the inside of his cheek and wonders when the sun will set, not because he needs it but because he wants it. It’s the only solace he gets here, and it’s the only solace the games give him in general, even when he doesn’t sleep, and even when he’s not allowed to. He’s not allowed to sleep here. The nights are too short to warrant it, and there’s too much killing going around, coupled with the fact that his clock isn’t visible to him. To see his time he has to stand by the river edge and crane his neck to even glance at the ticking seconds, and keep doing the mental math. He’s close to yellow. He can feel that at least. Maybe he’ll get lucky. Maybe there’ll be another chance to get a boogey kill. Some extension on his life. Something he’ll have to get for himself this time, it seems. He’s trying to be patient, something he’s gotten too good at doing, even with the short string it hangs from.

He’s waiting for Etho to come back.

It seems like a hopeless cause, but something deeply entrenched and rooting around in his chest believes otherwise. Etho comes back, doesn’t he? Not necessarily crawling, but something of the sort, standing off to the side, waiting to be welcomed back with a kicked-dog expression. So Bdubs is waiting for him.

“When will it be enough for you?”

Cleo’s voice is a cut through his train of thoughts like a cleaver. He turns, bracing his hand on the rock to support himself. She’s standing behind him, hands on her hips. At least he has Cleo, he thinks, as a warm tumbling thing rolls around in the empty space of his chest. He turns back around, expression souring.

“Never.”

The it is self-explanatory. It is whatever Etho gives him in lieu of an actual partnership, or an actual apology. They’d exchanged those, once before, after everything. So is he really to blame for thinking this might go a bit differently? That Etho might be beside him, instead of over the crest of the hill, playing house with the remnants of a team he used to be a part of? They’ve gone and replaced him with his better half. Dead weight. The it is the strings of affections Etho tries to tie together. It’s I love you never said but implied. It’s how they’ve always functioned, except in places they know are truly safe. Bdubs doesn’t mind that. But how is he supposed to not yearn for it, even here?

“He’s not coming back, y’know,” Cleo adds. She’s not moved any closer. Bdubs shrugs. He’s too busy watching the sky start to go orange at the edges

“Doesn’t matter,” he says shortly. Cleo huffs. She doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Bdubs, even when her footsteps have long since faded back to their cave.

Bdubs is waiting.

It’s an action he’s gotten very good at.

The good thing, though, is that night comes quicker than usual. It’s something about rotation, or sun’s rays, some science-y thing Bdubs would need to work out much longer than a few minutes to completely understand. He watches the sun brush the horizon for only a moment before he turns away, and the stretch of orange above it.

Etho never came back. His boots crunch against bits of pebbled stone and granite. So it’s his job to find him. He’s good at that, too. Just keep walking. Walking. Walking. Soon enough he’ll find something, right? Anything?

He pokes his way down, minding the way the stone turns to dirt and dirt to grass. Just beyond the next hill he can see a tall stone structure. He’s not sure what about this place feels so much more alive than previous games. There’s a nervous energy to the air, like a static charge. He makes his way over the hill.

He can see someone at the top of the tower as he manages down the other side of the hill. He hears grumbling, some unmistakable noise only Tango could make. Wading the short way over to the sandy bank, Bdubs stands, looking up on a particularly nicely textured tower, all things considered. He’s tempted to reach out and touch it, but Tango hears his approach. He leans over the edge of the tower, peering over at him.

“Tango!” Bdubs squints at him, smiling.

“Bdubs?” Tango leans a bit further. “What’d’you want?”

“I, uh…” He stops short. For all his big game, wandering around like he’s made up his mind, Bdubs still isn’t sure exactly what this is going to give him. Closure? Hope? Anything? He’s been standing here silent. Better say something. “I’m looking for Etho.”

“Mm.” Tango jerks his head to the left. He keeps his tone neutral, though, and besides, in the cover of nearly night, Bdubs can’t really tell what he’s thinking anyway. “He’s over at the farm. The uh—the box, there. Why? What’d’you need ‘em for?”

“Just to chat.”

“To chat?”

Bdubs nods.

“Yeah. I mean it.”

Tango shrugs. He seems to believe it. Bdubs isn’t lying anyway. It’s not like he could actually do something right now.

“Alright. Enjoy your talk, man. Lemme know if you need somethin’.”

Bdubs thinks he sees the swish of a tail before Tango ducks away, back to moving stone bricks around. Bdubs nods. Right. Left. To the farm. The “box” as Tango had put it. He can see the outline in the torchlight.

Making his way over, Bdubs steels his expression, trying to sooth frazzled nerves. He makes his way through the beach and around the side of the hill, toward the mass of dirt and granite that resembled its namesake.

Down the stone steps, walled in by the border and the box itself. Bdubs can hear the mobs within fighting, falling, dying. It’s a familiar sound, the clattering of bones and groans of undead… hissing of creepers and the crawling spiders. Not to say a pleasant sound, but… it’s something reminiscent of better times, at least, when time and death meant nothing.

He’s shaken from his thoughts at the bottom of the steps, where the entrance to the farm lies. There’s a hole, and a rickety ladder into darkness. He shakes his head, but doesn’t hesitate to descend, rung by rung until his ankles land in water. Eurgh. It splashes up to his knees when he turns to get out of it, and he shivers—not cause he’s cold, but… he’s a little cold.

Even with his soaked boots, and aching arms from the climb down, he falters before fully stepping away from the water and towards his… friend, partner, lover… Etho. Who hasn’t bothered to acknowledge him, save for the hand straying toward the diamond sword at his side and stiffened back. His other hand keeps busy, gathering gunpowder from the chest and placing it straight onto the crafting table.

“Etho?”

This time, his only sign Etho knows he’s there is that both hands go to craft TNT, and his posture gets about as bad as Bdubs knows it usually is. Other than that, Bdubs is ignored, and he frowns, a prickle of hurt creeping through. Dead weight. Did Etho think the same?

“E-Etho?” Bdubs’ voice falters, and he winces at the crack in his usual facade of boisterous bravado.

For the first time since the timer started, at least that Bdubs has seen, Etho pauses. Just a heartbeat, just long enough to acknowledge Bdubs’ presence. But the moment passes, and Etho resumes his work, not even bothering to turn to Bdubs as he gathers gunpowder and crafts more of the TNT.

Gather, craft. Gather, craft. A terrifying rhythm of coming destruction, and Etho won’t look at Bdubs. His hands are too busy, and Bdubs’ own flutter about uselessly before he settles on leaning against the wall and watching. Even then, he picks at the sleeve of his shirt, biting his lip before trying again.

“You’re… you busy right now?” He keeps his voice quiet, as if any volume might shatter the peace and walls both have built up. There’s water dripping from the rocks above his head and he holds back from wrinkling his nose when a drop lands on it.

“Got things to do,” Etho mutters, turning back to the collection chest. A wrinkle appears between his eyebrows—empty.

“Of course, of course…” Bdubs tracks Etho’s calloused hands as they pack away the last of the tnt. There’s a spark in Etho’s eyes as he does that Bdubs doesn’t particularly like—it feels wrong, and far too similar to the same spark a flint and steel might make. “Do you have a minute?” (Or a few?)

“Do any of us?” Etho’s tone is light, but to Bdubs, there’s almost a beat to each word, a tick-tick-tick of seconds passing, of life draining. Etho steps forward, and so does Bdubs, but then Etho steps right past him to the water and ladder, not even sparing a second to look into Bdubs’ eyes.

And so Bdubs follows helplessly, just like he always does, once again grimacing at the water pooled around his ankles before he starts up the ladder after Etho. “W-Etho, c’mon…”

Up and up and up into the starry night above, up the stairs, past the base and into the woods. Step, step, step, step. Tick, tick, tick, tick.

“Watcha doin’, Etho?”

“Resource gathering.”

“It’s the middle of the night… shouldn’t you be sleepin’?” Bdubs raises his eyebrows, trying to keep up with Etho’s quick march. He’s really too short for this–not that he’ll ever admit that out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be, sleep king B-double-o?” Etho side-eyes him, raking his gaze down to where Bdubs stumbles over his own feet.

“Oh, come on…” Bdubs grumbles, but Etho’s right. “...wanted to see you?”

“Wanted to see me?” Etho sounds teasing and entirely uncaring. “Shouldn’t you be with Cleo ‘n Scar?” They’ve reached a point, lit up with few torches. There’s a rudimentary tree farm ahead, ready to be harvested, but surely Etho isn’t just using his precious tnt, is he?

“Oh, tell me you aren’t just blowin’ it u-”

Bang! It’s lit and fired off before Bdubs can finish his sentence. While Etho heads forward, dragging his axe from his back to harvest and collect, Bdubs backs up a couple steps.

“Etho, please look at me-”

“I can hear you just fine. I gotta collect this stuff, ‘dubs.”

And that’s just it, isn’t it? It’s frustrating, and so very Etho, and none of it makes sense, because Bdubs just wants to talk to Etho and he wants Etho to look at him even if it’s just for two seconds, would he please just acknowledge, or sit down, or-

Two short breaths, then one deep, and Bdubs thinks maybe he can fix this. Maybe-

He leaves Etho to his farm, staying within sight to gather sticks and wood. When he drops to the ground to place it all, to make a fire, twigs push into his knees uncomfortably, the ground itself damp and cold. It’s awful, and it’s worth it to light the campfire, to place that rickety old tin kettle he’d brought with him. The kettle trembles in his grasp, a memory of a time with it hadn’t been his, it had been theirs. He waits to use it though, wanting to bring Etho over first.

But then Etho walks out, glances over, and just shakes his head, like it means nothing, like it never did. He scrambles to his feet, the kettle left empty on the ground. He makes it over to Etho before he can walk away fully, out towards the river nearby. Once again staring at the ground over Bdubs, Etho tries to slide past, but Bdubs just can’t help it, heart aching in all the worst places.

“Please-” Bdubs’ hands fly out, then halt just before touching Etho. His plea is quiet too, but Etho hesitates to move away and Bdubs reaches fully forward to take both of Etho’s hands in his. He runs his calloused fingertips over the backs of Etho's hands, gently turning them palm up with his thumbs. Scars cover Etho’s hands in angry red ridges, and Bdubs traces over them without a word, keeping his eyes on them instead of Etho’s face. He doesn’t think he could possibly look at Etho right now, not when Etho could shove him away, call him dead weight or laugh it off or-

But he doesn’t, and Bdubs barely catches the soft, too-fast intake of breath from Etho. Another moment of memorizing the palms he already knows by heart, and he closes his hands fully, squeezing them tightly.

“Just-come sit down. Please?” He won’t take no for an answer, tugging Etho forward with both hands until they’re next to a couple rocks near the farm. “Here.”

Etho’s eyes squeeze shut, stressed in the way Bdubs sees when he’s worked too long on a project without sleeping, or the times in the snow fort he’d thought Bdubs hadn’t seen in the nights spent across the fence. “I shouldn’t.”

“Just a few minutes.” (Just tonight. Just for tonight.)

He doesn’t miss the way Etho tenses, or the shuddering breaths he takes.

“Okay,” he sounds tired, already shifting his weight from leg to leg.

Bdubs doesn’t let go of his hand, though, as he pulls Etho with him to the unlit fire. It’s funny, in some type of way, that he came prepared thinking that Etho would say yes, when every other part of him knew Etho would say no. He drops to the ground, Etho still standing at his side, to light the fire. It takes a second to catch, but when it does, Etho is dropping next to him. He holds his hands out in front of him, palms turned toward the heat. Bdubs takes his time setting up. It’s a process he’s seen Etho follow too many times to count on his hands. If he’s being honest, he’d originally brought the set for himself, knowing a day without it would leave him grumpy and nonfunctional. Being able to share it with Etho now was a luxury he’d surely taken for granted back home. Now it, for this small moment, was all they had.

He fills the kettle halfway with water from his canteen, tosses in the tea leaves, and sets it in the coals. Chamomile. His preferred stuff. He watches the kettle for a second, listening to it start to rumble. Then he glances at Etho. Etho glances up, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His eyes flick across the dark sky they both know will soon be gone, replaced with the sun and a bright, scary blue. Bdubs sighs.

“Mind if I join you?” Etho extends one of the mugs towards Bdubs, and Bdubs takes it gratefully, hands curling around the heat of the mug. Then Etho sinks to the ground on the other side of the campfire, legs crossed. He places his mask on the log next to him.

I love you, I made you tea.

Etho hasn’t taken off his mask, yet, but he’s just at the side of the campfire. His familiar, left-hand spot to Bdubs.

Bdubs fishes two cups out of his bag—the last bit of the set. As much as he would rather wooden ones, the metal ones will have to do. He lifts the kettle as it starts to boil, and pours out a cup of tea. It smells strong enough as Bdubs lifts it. Then, he holds it out for Etho to take. Etho finally looks over, and his eyebrows furrow.

He’s still wearing his mask.

Bdubs swears he doesn’t flinch.

There, he takes another small wooden cup from the satchel and turns back to the pot. The metal tin is lukewarm at best, and only a few long wisps of steam rise from the cup’s surface, but Etho cradles it in both hands. With a deliberate slowness, he turns to Bdubs, and extends his hands.

Etho takes the cup, and Bdubs feels their hands knock together awkwardly as he tries to grab it from him. He manages the last bit of a wheezing sounding laugh, and pretends not to notice Etho’s eyes squinting shut for a moment.

Etho sits with his tea for a moment, holding it in the cradle of his hands. Bdubs knows the motion—he saw it a long time ago, before Etho got comfortable with him. He lowers his eyes to the second cup, and Etho seems to relax after a second. He hears him sigh tiredly. Bdubs stares into his newly poured cup of tea and chews his bottom lip.

“Etho...” Bdubs says, still looking up into the sky. Etho turns his head to him, and in the light of the fire, he can just see the profile of his face, tipped back. Etho’s eyebrows raise questioningly.

“Yes?”

“I want to offer you a proposition.”

“Etho?” He asks. Etho hums. “I want to offer you a proposition.”

Etho laughs. The sound is warmer than he’s expecting.

“I can’t run away with you, B,” he says, and his tone stays light. Bdubs feels his stomach turn over—both in a good and bad way.

“Hey!” He swings out, trying to catch his arm and failing. “I never said…”

But that is what he was going to ask. Etho’s stolen the words right out of his mouth. He takes a sip of tea. The chamomile is bitter without honey.

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” Etho starts, and it sounds an awful lot like a rejection. Bdubs shakes his head. When he looks over at Etho, his leg bounces nervously. He’s not looking directly at Bdubs, but over his shoulder instead, eyes occasionally flicking over to his face. His mask is forgotten, hooked around his ear, and his mouth is a fine line.

“You just can’t,” Bdubs finishes. “Look, I get it…I do, I promise.”

Etho sighs. It’s a weary sound Bdubs doesn’t hear often.

“I don’t think it’s good for us,” he manages, turning the cup in his hands. Luckily for Etho, Bdubs is watching his hands move, rather than studying the pinched expression on his face.

“No, Etho, it’s fine,” Bdubs says, despite the way his chest hurts when he says it. “You don’t have to make excuses.”

Silence stretches between them. Bdubs watches Etho turn the cup, like he’s studying the contents, and Bdubs feels his chest start to stuff up with cotton. It’s a lingering silence, like a sticky heat, something tangible, like a thread. He wishes he could reach out and cut it with a knife, but Etho coughs, and the stillness goes back to being the sound of crickets and water lapping at the shore a few paces away. There’s a shock of cold to the air. The fire fights to warm them both.

“Bdubs,” Etho starts. The words are slow and deliberate. “You don’t take this seriously. You're just treating this like it's a game."

Bdubs makes a noncommittal noise. "Well that's what you're supposed to do, isn't it?” He shrugs. “In the title and everything…"

Etho shakes his head. There’s that silence again. At least it’s shorter this time.

“I can’t come with you.” Etho doesn’t look at him. Bdubs shrugs again.

“‘S fine…at least finish your tea, will you?” The words are half-caught in his throat like he’s coughing them out. The dregs of his tea have gone cold in his cup, but he knocks back the contents and grimaces as he swallows. It’s better than nothing. Etho nods. He drinks slowly, even as Bdubs knows his tea has cooled, and even as the thread taut between them pulls at them both. Just one night, right?

“Just one night,” Etho says. Bdubs shuts his eyes.

“Right.”

Etho leans forward, still holding his cup. Then, he stands, brushing his free hand on his pants, rehooking his mask over the other ear. The expression Bdubs manages to catch is pained, tight, uncomfortable. Etho curls and uncurls his hands.

“Thanks for the tea, ‘Dubs.” Etho sounds unsure, like he might be looking for something else.

“Sure thing.”

Etho’s back is turned to him, now, where he stands at the very edge of the flickering light the campfire gives. And he’s about to leave, and they’ll meet again, sure, and pretend, and play two different games, and then they’ll go home and pretend to play the same one. He blinks back tears, because he knows, he knows Etho’ll come back to him, eventually. It’s just a game. Staggering to his feet, he stumbles towards Etho out of time–tick, step, ti-step, tick, tick, step. Even with his fumbling, loud movement, Etho doesn’t flinch, staring down into his cup just emptied, rather than the woods promising resources, or the stars that no longer promise safety.

He shuffles forward, to rest his forehead against Etho’s back. It fits just between his shoulder blades, pressing against the thin padding of Etho’s jacket.

For a second, Bdubs rests, and it's as if nothing's changed at all. For a moment, he holds his breath, and feels as if time stops ticking. It's over, though, as soon as it starts. Just one day.

He reaches up, hardly daring to breathe, until his fingers just barely brush against the arm of Etho’s jacket, tracing along his elbow. Part of him wants to wrap his hand fully around, wants to tug Etho around to face him, to beg him to stay with him, even if it means sacrificing their time. He knows better. He knows Etho loves him, and he knows it’s not enough, not in the game. So instead he stays perfectly still, save for his shuddering, unsteady breaths. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and he means it.

Etho’s own breaths are out of time, too. Just for a few seconds, but it’s enough. “I’ll see you after, ‘dubs.”

Bdubs doesn’t watch Etho walk forward. But he certainly feels the pull and the cool air on his face instead of fabric. Behind him, the fire splutters back into nothing, and the creeping chill against his back sets him shivering. He drags his hands up and down his arms quickly, trying to warm himself, and rather than linger and stare at his failed proposition, he steps forward in the direction of his bed. Step, tick, step, tick, step, tick.

#limited life #limited life smp #ethubs #etho #ethoslab #bdubs #bdoubleo100 #trafficshipping #my fics #hi guys. long time no see!#shoutout to tuna for being the best cowriter ever i love them sm #honored to have written this with you ueueueueueeueu

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deepspacedukat · 1 year

Text

Pulse

I just...I had an idea and I had to write it. In my defense, Shran pinned me to the wall and made me. 👉👈 🥺 Set during Season 5 which never came to fruition, in which Shran is a member of the Enterprise crew. Listen, my brain goes places when AO3 is down...

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Thy’lek Shran (ST:ENT) x Reader

[A/N: This is just fluff. Nothing constructive or useful to say here this time.]

Warnings: Interspecies kissing, human/Andorian kissing, made up Andorian culture stuff for the purposes of flirting (but hopefully it’s plausible?), it’s implied that they’ve been pining for like 3-4 whole seasons so it’s time for them to make out, mutual pining, they both think their feelings are unrequited, but they’re idiots.

~*~

To say we’d had a bumpy landing was an understatement. There was some sort of interference in the atmosphere of the planet we were attempting to scout out, and the shuttle I was in with Commander Shran came crashing to a halt after the engines died. We’d both been startled and a little rattled by our rather unexpected descent, but apart from a few bruises we were ultimately uninjured.

We gave the shuttle a quick once over from inside and found that external sensors and our communications array were the only things that appeared to be working. Enterprise wouldn’t be at our rendezvous point for at least another twenty four hours, so all we had to do was survive until then. Easy.

Or so I thought. Checking the external sensors, we found that the temperature outside the shuttle cabin was well below freezing. A fact that would be no problem for the Commander, but for my human physiology, I knew I’d have to be a little more careful when the cold started leeching inside.

“Well, look at it this way, Lieutenant, you might get a preview of what Andoria is like,” Shran quipped as we checked our emergency supplies. Something shiny landed beside me, and when I looked, I saw the silvery sheen of a thermal blanket. “You’ll need this much more quickly than I will.”

I could hear amusement dripping from his every syllable. Playfully nudging him with my elbow, I shook my head and started setting up the distress beacon with a warning about the atmospheric interference so that Enterprise could find us when it eventually came back.

The Commander and I passed several hours busying ourselves with various small tasks around the shuttle before eventually settling in to wait. I took a seat at the back of the shuttle with a data PADD, tapping away at a preliminary analysis of whatever the hell kind of interference was in the planet’s atmosphere.

“I admire your dedication, but I think there’ll be plenty of time to finish that back on Enterprise,” Shran said as he took a seat beside me and offered me a glass of something blue. Andorian ale, perhaps? But where the hell had he gotten that? I raised an eyebrow in silent curiosity, but he proffered no explanation. Fair enough. Setting my PADD aside, I accepted the glass from him with a quiet nod of gratitude. He tapped his glass gently against mine - a gesture he’d picked up from the Captain - and we both lifted our drinks to our lips. “You’ve been quiet tonight. I was going to surprise you with this next month, but I thought maybe you could use a drink after today.”

“Why, thank you, Commander. You’re always so attentive to your officers’ needs,” I noted as I swirled the remaining liquid in my glass. Being in close proximity to him always made me fidgety. I could only hope that he wouldn’t notice. When his arm nudged mine, I looked over at him to find him already watching me with a smile across his mouth.

“I think it’s safe for us to drop the formalities, don’t you?” The soft rasp in his tone felt smoother than the ale he’d poured for me and a great deal more satisfying. A murmur of my name from him sent my heart thudding in my chest, and I wondered a bit belatedly just how strong this Andorian style alcohol was. He’d said my name before, so why was the sound of it affecting me so much more now than it usually did? Maybe it was the relative calm inside the shuttle or maybe it was the lack of other crewmen in close proximity. “Is it still alright if I call you that?”

“Of course. Are you still alright with me calling you Thy’lek?” I asked catching myself staring at his lips for about the thousandth time since we met.

“You know you never have to ask,” he said refilling his glass and mine when they were both empty. Despite the pleasant warmth that spread through my limbs from the ale, a few hours later it became clear that the cold had begun to seep in just as we’d both anticipated. I hadn’t even noticed that I’d pressed my side against Shran’s until he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and his voice sounded from much closer than I remembered. “Need that thermal blanket?”

“Not yet. Maybe in a couple of hours, but right now I’m alright.” I was almost proud of how steady I sounded despite the Commander’s nearness. Coaxing my empty glass carefully from my fingers, he set both vessels down and drew me to lean more fully against him.

“Then I’d suggest you try to get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.” Rest did seem like a tempting option. I started to protest that I was fine, but barely a few words in a yawn tore from my throat betraying just how exhausted I was. Ceding to the wisdom of his suggestion, I staunchly ignored the blush heating my cheeks and rested my head on Shran’s shoulder. Sleep found me much easier than I’d ever admit. Within moments I was out like a light.

The cold seemed to be all around me, with the exception of one warm spot. Nuzzling sleepily into it, I practically purred at the feeling of heat brushing up against my face. A deep, rumbling sound shook the...whatever I was resting on, and blearily I forced my eyes open. When I did, though, all I was met with was a wall of two blue shades. One I recognized instantly as the blue of a Starfleet uniform. The other was a little harder to place until I leaned back slightly and saw that my makeshift pillow was Commander Shran.

Oh shit. Had I just been pressing my face against his neck like a cat? Startled fully into consciousness, I sat up rather abruptly, carefully avoiding meeting Thy’lek’s eyes. I knew there would probably be disgust there, and honestly, I didn’t think I was strong enough to take that. Forcing myself to my feet, I went over to one of the few working consoles and checked the sensors. Everything seemed fine, and I’d slept for something like six hours.

A murmur of my name from beside me startled me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t even heard Shran get up, but there he was looking at me all concerned. There was no hiding the way I jumped at the sound of his voice so close to me.

“Are you alright?” One of his hands rested lightly on my shoulder, and couldn’t help but look down at the point of contact. No doubt I had an expression of dumbfounded amazement on my face. Lifting his hand and brushing the backs of his knuckles lightly down my cheek, followed by the gentle caress of his gaze. Without a thought, I leaned into his touch. His other hand slid down to my waist, steadying me as he stepped closer. “You’re trembling.”

“Am I?” My voice came out as barely a breath. He nodded his head and started rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

Oh. He just thought I was cold. I mean, I was, but...I guessed he didn’t notice that it was his proximity that was causing me to shake. Why did that simultaneously relieve and disappoint me?

“If you’re ever going to visit Andoria, pretty girl, you’ll have to get used to being cold,” Shran said as a small smile wove across his lips. I tried my hardest to ignore the fact that we were practically sharing our breaths.

“I don’t mind being cold, but I wasn’t exactly dressed for sub-freezing temperatures.” I spoke through a huff of laughter as I started rubbing my fingers together to create some warming friction. At a hefty shiver from me - one actually due to the cold, this time - the Commander grasped my forearms and led me over to the little area we’d been using. He took a seat and eased me onto his lap. Grasping my hands, Thy’lek tucked them beneath the collar of his uniform. The warmth of his pulse beneath my fingers began seeping into my skin and I felt myself blushing at the intimacy of our position. Shran wrapped a thermal blanket around the two of us and settled his arms around my back to keep me steady.

“We can’t have you freezing, now can we?” Mischief and something else trickled into his tone. “You seem surprised.”

“Is this how you warm each other up on Andoria?” I asked hoping he couldn’t tell how flustered I was. His eyes skimmed lightly over my face, pausing over my lips. Surely I was imagining it. He’d done the same things dozens of times before, but he’d never been any more forward than that.

“Sometimes. Usually, though, this particular method is reserved for those we trust with our lives. Most commonly our families or those we see as prospective mates,” he explained, and my eyes went wide as I looked up at him. A thousand responses bubbled up in my throat, but what came out was measurably less steady than I’d intended.

“And in your considered opinion...do I fit into one of those categories?” I asked barely able to meet his gaze. A slow, intimate smile spread across his lips and beneath the thermal blanket we were wrapped up in, his hands drew me closer to his chest.

“You do. You always have, even if I haven’t exactly made my feelings obvious,” he murmured. I took a shaky breath and touched my forehead to his, allowing my eyelids to flutter closed. “Our loved ones are precious to us. To warm each other like this...to use the heat from our very blood...our life essence...that is the most intimate form of protection. You certainly don’t need it, but I very much want to be your defender, if you’ll allow me.”

His hands rubbed quietly up and down my back. My thumbs skimmed lightly over his thrumming pulse, and satisfaction rolled through me when I felt it speed up beneath my fingertips.

“I’d like that,” I admitted, almost too terrified to hope that we were on the same page. Tilting my head slightly, I let my lips brush over his. Shran’s hold on me tightened and he remained absolutely still as if he was afraid I would leave if he moved. With minimal hesitation, I closed what little distance was still between us and kissed him like I’d always wanted to.

When a signal from Enterprise crackled through the comm system, we were so wrapped up in each other that we almost didn’t hear it.

#commander shran x reader #Thy'lek Shran #thy'lek shran x reader #commander thy'lek shran #commander thy'lek shran x reader #fluff #deepspacedukat fics

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artemisia-black · 2 years

Text

Part one: Sirius and the shadow of being a Black.

In this meta, I am going to explore Sirius’s relationship to the immense amount of privilege he was born into and how this affects him (even when he rejects his family).

1.0 Practically royal

Sirius Black was born at the apex of wizarding society with multiple privileged characteristics (like stigmatising characteristics these are all context-specific). He is male, pureblood, good looking, intellectually gifted, charming, wealthy and the firstborn son of a prominent family who are obsessed with lineage.

Of the few glimpses we get of pre-teen/teenage Sirius, he is every inch a product of this privilege and has, at least subconsciously, imbibed some of the Black’s grandiose beliefs about being ‘practically royal.’

During the Prince’s tale, at 11 years old he is able to confidently deflect James’s jibe about Slytherin and does not feel the need to pander to it:

“Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” James asked the boy lounging on the seats opposite him, and with a jolt, Harry realised that it was Sirius. Sirius did not smile.

“My whole family have been in Slytherin,” he said.

Instead, he only positively reinforces James’s attempt at reconciliation

“Blimey,” said James, “and I thought you seemed all right!”

Sirius grinned. DH

This exchange indicates a confident child who is aware of his social standing and can command respect.

Contrast this with Harry’s experience of first boarding the Hogwarts’ express, where he he battles feelings of insecurity when first talking to Ron:

“I’m not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name,” said Harry, “I just never knew you shouldn’t. See what I mean? I’ve got loads to learn. ... I bet,” he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, “I bet I’m the worst in the class.”

So although Sirius is not described as clearly loved in the way James is, he is aware of his social capital. Indeed, even his willingness to ‘break tradition’ indicates a lack of fear of any dire repercussion about his sorting. Also I read the ‘my whole family’ line as a defence of his family and this indicates that he was looking to ‘break tradition’ and not break away from his family.

The second glimpse, we get of teenage Sirius occurs in Snape’s worst Memory where he is actively described as looking ‘haughty,’ and demonstrates his social privilege in two main ways:

When wishing for the full moon because he is bored- at this point in his life, Sirius is still very much at the top of the social hierarchy. And while he seems accepting of Remus’s condition, this callous comment indicates that he doesn’t fully grasp the marginalisation and pain Remus lives with. In the real world, this strongly reminds me of people who would never use a racial slur, but also have no grasp of institutionalised discrimination.

His insults towards Snape, can be read through a class lens;

“I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,” said Sirius viciously. “There’ll be great grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word.” OoTP

WIthin many Victorian treatises on poverty (often written by the aristocratic elite), poor cleanliness was often touted as a marker of the poor. Indeed, this was such a strongly held belief that the Victorian novelist and playwright Edward Bulwer-Lytton coined the term ‘the great unwashed,’ when referring to the masses.

So it is interesting that Sirius always goes for this aspect of Snape. Even in GoF when he’s being reasonable about Snape, he can’t help but make a jibe:

“ Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was,” Sirius added” GoF

Jibes about cleanliness also echos Walburga’s insults:

‘ Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness.’ OoTP

It is interesting to note, that he doesn’t throw a similar amount of contempt on Snape being a deatheater (see my meta about Sirius’s views on Deatheaters).

The other key pieces of information we learn about his teens is that he breaks alot of school rules. And this misbehaviour can be interpreted as combination of several factors:

Boredom because school is not stimulating for someone as intelligent as he is

An excuse to cut loose after growing up in a rigid environment

However one of the biggest contextual factors is his privilege. He doesn’t need to maintain a spotless record in order to secure work post- Hogwarts and he has the subconscious protection of his family’s position.

2.0 Hamartia and integrating the shadow.

While ostensibly Sirius seems to reject his family’s principles, he has still been deeply shaped by them.

Indeed, the vehemence with which he outwardly rejects his family, allows his ‘Black’ traits to almost become a shadow aspect of his personality, so when they do emerge it is with the full force with which they were initially repressed.

And this can be explored through his dynamic with Kreacher. Where he does not entirely acknowledge his privileged position as Kreacher’s master (the concept of house elves really give me the ick), so cannot reason the power dynamic between them and that Kreacher is a product of the Blacks not an extension of them.

Note: I am providing an explanation of this, not justifying it.

However, it is not entirely fair to critique him for his lack of insight without discussing the extenuating circumstances and the sheer amount of trauma he endured. Nevertheless, his unacknowledged privilege is in my opinion his hamartia.

In my next meta, I will explore his loss of privilege as Sirius is a unique mix of being born at the system's apex and being its victim.

#sirius black #harry potter meta #harry potter

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dolce-peach · 2 years

Note

Hi! I loved your soft & honeyed obi-wan fic, and was wondering if I could request another for him? Maybe him & the reader have the same dynamic they did in soft & honeyed. Obi-wan and the reader have just come back from a brutal mission where they lost a lot of men, and it's really negatively affecting the reader. Obi-wan notices how depressed the reader is and goes to comfort her, maybe some cuddles or something sweet like that?? I've been having a bit of a rough time recently and would love to see how Obi-wan would comfort the reader during a depressive episode. No worries at all if this is too heavy of a request, I appreciate you taking the time to read this & for writing all of your works. I love them & you! <3

stay

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

warnings: violence, death, grief

a/n: so this took a little longer than expected -- so sorry about that, anon! 🥲 i’ve been out of the country this entire month and also had a nasty cold (also could've been covid shhhhhh) -- also i’m so sorry you’ve been feeling that way 😔 sending all my love! also apologies bc you can tell that i’m obviously touch starved 🙃 hope you like it!! 🥰💗

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire @just-another-loki-fangirl

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

The plan was simple with very little room for error, as it always was. It was one of Obi-Wan’s secret talents, as you discovered over the years of partnering up for missions.

It fascinated you to see how his mind worked in high pressure situations. You noticed he often stationed you somewhere near him on the front lines. He took into account everything that could possibly go wrong. You appreciated that he wasn’t overly demonstrative about his need to protect you. Your eyes often found his anyway, even across the battlefield.

His priority was you as well as the mission.

If all went well, you and your entire squad of clones would be home before supper.

“That is all,” Obi-Wan said, concluding the makeshift briefing in the cruiser’s cargo hanger. “Cody, how soon can you get your men in the air?”

The clone commander stood tall. “Fifteen minutes, General Kenobi.”

“You have ten,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll want to have the element of surprise on our side.”

“Understood,” Cody replied with a nod, turning towards his team. “You heard the General! Wings up in ten!”

“Yes, sir!”

As the clones dispersed, you found yourself tightening your wrist gauntlets. You weren’t surprised when you recognized the pair of boots that stopped in front of you.

Obi-Wan’s gloved hands lay themselves on top of yours. “Allow me.” There was a small twinkle in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile. “What would I do without you?”

He chuckled as he easily tightened your gauntlets, casually checking the rest of your armor while he was at it. “In your defense, this armor isn’t intuitive,” he pointed out.

He took your hands and helped you into your gloves, the leather of his brushing against your skin.

You hummed. “Maybe there’ll be a day where we won’t have to wear these anymore.”

“If we complete today’s mission, we’ll be one step closer to that day,” he told you, as he always did.

“What are we waiting for then?” you joked, brushing a bit of his hair away from his face. “I’ll see you later?”

His eyes fluttered at your touch, selfishly relishing in your presence for one more moment more before nodding, his expression hardening. “May the Force be with you.”

You echoed his words before running off to your own ship. You glanced back briefly and flashed a smile.

It was all you could do before boarding your fighter.

In a way, it comforted you, to pretend like everything was okay in the midst of everything falling apart. You were sure it probably put Obi-Wan at ease. Maybe that was a bit of a guilty thought you had, but in the end, it really only put off the inevitable.

You knew your body was due for another breakdown at some point, but as your cockpit closed over your head and your ship launched into space, you knew it couldn’t be today.

You had a job to do, a duty to fulfill.

As you sliced the last battle droid with your saber, you took a moment to catch your breath.

Just because the plan was simple didn’t mean it was going to be a cakewalk. Part of you didn’t even want to turn around to see the aftermath of the small battle that ended up occurring. You were sure most of your squad had fallen. The lack of the sound of their boots only confirmed that.

“General!”

Hearing Cody’s voice gave you some relief.

“Commander,” you greeted. “Where’s General Kenobi?”

“Securing the last of the throne room,” he replied. “I was ordered to take the men I have left and see if you needed help.”

You glanced over your shoulder and couldn’t help but look away immediately. There was no question that your entire squad had fallen, their white armor almost glowing in the light that fell through what few windows there were in the room. Their bodies were strewn, decorated in their blood.

“My men...” you trailed off.

Cody beat you to it, already ordering what medic clones he had to start surveying for wounded soldiers.

You fell to your knees. How could this have happened? You were sure you were taking most of the heavy fire, deflecting blasts elsewhere. There had to be someone.

Anyone.

You could scarcely recognize Obi-Wan kneeling before you. His gloved fingers hooked gently under your chin, raising your face to examine you.

There were tears blurring your eyes. He bore concern in his face as he stroked your cheek.

“No one,” you breathed. “There’s no one left. They’re all...they’re all dead...”

“You don’t know that. We’ll check --”

“I do know!” you snapped. “You feel it as I do! Their spirits. Their life. Their Force, gone!”

At seeing Obi-Wan stagger back, your eyes were wide with horror as you covered your mouth. Stop talking! Stop thinking.

Stop living.

He called your name, cautiously taking your hand. “Breathe,” came the soft command.

“I can’t!” you sobbed uncontrollably.

“Just try,” he insisted, cupping your cheek. “Look at me.”

Your lower lip trembled as you followed his voice, gazing deeply into his ocean eyes. His thumb rubbed away grime and oil caked into your skin.

“There, that’s it,” he praised. “Their deaths are not your fault. Remember that.” His eyes reflected your sadness.

You leaned your head into his chest. “I want to go home.”

You felt his chest rise. “Me too,” he said as he caressed your head, holding you close.

You had no strength left in your body. It was a miracle you made it back to the star cruiser. With the help of Obi-Wan, who made no complaints while carrying you, you were able to get what rest you could in your quarters, away from prying eyes and grieving men.

Nothing could ever comfort you for your losses this time. You knew they were clones, men bred for war, but as the years went by, you couldn’t help but form friendships. They had your back, always.

As you sat still on your bed, still in your roughed robes, you glanced outside your window, to the infinite stars.

The door to your room slid open. Obi-Wan walked in with a tray of food. Sensing your silence, he set the food on your table before sitting down next to you with a heavy sigh.

“You should eat something,” he said.

“I think I just want to sleep,” you admitted tiredly.

He nodded, his lips pursed in a small smile. “Then sleep.”

You sighed as you leaned back, collapsing into your sheets. Closing your eyes, you could already feel yourself giving in to sleep.

The only thing barely keeping you conscious was Obi-Wan gently removing your boots and setting them neatly to the side.

He paused for a moment before removing your belt. You rolled over, so he could slip you out of your robes more easily. His fingers occasionally grazed your skin. Physical intimacy with you two was an unfamiliar thing, but it didn’t change the fact that you felt incredibly comfortable with each other. Obi-Wan had seen you in your most vulnerable states. He knew when you were guarded, and this wasn’t one of those moments.

On the other hand, he was harder to read. You eventually learned every expression and nuance his face had to offer, with the way his eyebrows were furrowed deeply or the way his hand always found his beard when he was deep in thought. You memorized every shade of blue his eyes had to offer.

Eventually you opened your eyes, seeing his eyes on you in quiet observation. You sat up, saddling his lap before you undressed him. It was your way of begging him not to leave.

“Better?” he asked quietly while watching you fold his robes neatly before setting them on the chair. His callused fingers brushed against your collarbone. You slowly hugged him.

“Yeah,” you whispered in his ear. “You?”

He hummed in affirmation. “Always so concerned about others before yourself,” he pointed out. “What can I do for you?”

You wanted to have him kiss you, hold you, take you in every way known to man. You wanted his skin against yours, holding you so close and so tight that you might disappear. You wanted him to make you forget your sadness.

You could never tell him that, to use you so you could use him. Part of you knew he’d never forgive you for that either.

For now, you could do with this.

“Stay.”

You felt his laugh rumble from his chest to yours. “Lay down then.”

You scooted back, letting your head hit the pillow. He lay down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. Letting his body spoon yours, you held his hand to your chest, interweaving your fingers in his. You placed a tentative kiss against his knuckles, and he responded by brushing his lips against your neck, breathing in your scent.

The sensation tickled you. “I should shower,” you said, trying to get out of bed. “I probably smell like oil and sweat.”

He refused to let you move. “Stay,” he murmured. “Rest.”

Feeling him pull you close to him sheltered you. You exhaled slowly, trying to force yourself to relax.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, as if hearing your troubled mind. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You turned until you were facing him, stroking his cheek. “How can you be so sure?” you whispered. “Our time is finite anyway. My men may have been clones, but they all had lives, personalities of their own. I was the only one with the power to save them, and I couldn’t in the end.”

“How would I be able to live with myself if I didn’t try?”

In the moment you gave a weak smile whilst gazing into his eyes, you knew you were safe. He meant those words, as much as you hated to admit, and as much as it went against what the two of you stood for. But in that moment, you forgot about protocols and duty.

His arms were all you could focus on, his body pressed close against you, skin on skin. His sweet musk dulled your senses as the warmth that radiated from his body sedated you. You ran your fingers along his chest, creating constellations through his freckles. His rough fingers squeezed the skin of your hips with every changing direction, making your breathing unsteady in the best of ways.

As he cradled you close in his chest, he stroked your hair. “None of it was your fault,” he said. “You understand that, right?”

“Obi-Wan...” you trailed off in warning as you pulled back, sitting up.

He took your hand. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Tears welled in your eyes. No matter how many times he said it, there would always be a part of you that would never believe him. Your grief would never think of letting you off the hook that easily.

You could see his eyes widen as you tried to hold back your tears. Wiping your eyes in haste, sobs shook your body. “I’m sorry...”

He gave you a sad smile. “What are you sorry for?” he said gently. “You have nothing to apologize for. I know it, my men know it, and your men know it.”

You shook your head as he wiped your tears. “You and I have responsibilities. I don’t want to keep you here, General.”

“General, now?” he lightly mused. “You’re exhausted,” he said, laying you down again. “Just try to sleep, alright?”

“Will you leave?”

He settled next to you. “No,” he said. “And we’ll talk about it when you’re ready.”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his in silent thanks.

You never realized when you fell asleep, but you woke up a few hours later, thanks to a nightmare. Much to your relief, Obi-Wan still slept beside you, his breath steady.

Your fingers found a home caressing his cheek with the lightest touch. Peace never left his face as he slept, almost making him look younger. If it weren’t for his beard, he’d probably still have his boyish look. It was one of the only signs that he lived in a world where he had to age too quickly, being thrown into something he never wanted to be part of.

When he stirred, you froze. He murmured something in his sleepy haze.

“It’s okay,” you hushed him. “Just sleep.”

His brow relaxed once more, the growing crease on his forehead disappearing instantly. You carefully repositioned yourself so your head lay on his chest.

Then you heard it. Steady thumps of his heart in your ear.

He was alive.

You bit your lip as tears welled up again. You never knew a simple heartbeat, something one wouldn’t ever think to listen to, would bring you so much relief.

You had to protect it at all costs. Even though you knew such thinking was deeply rooted in the dark side, what was wrong with protecting what you loved?

#anon #anonymous #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan #obi wan x reader #kenobi x reader #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #obi wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #angst #kenobi series #clone wars #requests open #sad hours 🥲

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polarisbibliotheque · 11 months

Text

Survivor's Blood (Leon x Reader) - Chapter 5

Survivor's Blood

Pairing: Leon x Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (you are here!)

Summary: After Raccoon City, Leon became the only Government agent with that kind of expertise. With relentless training, he was now a Special Agent - again, on his first day in the job. He just didn’t expect to live Raccoon City all over again… Maybe Leon was fated to always have the worst first-days-at-work ever.

Age Restriction: 18+. It’s horror, so expect a lot of graphic violence and blood dripping from this. I mean, VERY GRAPHICAL VIOLENCE. Nothing we haven’t seen on RE, but still. Yee been warned

TRIGGER WARNING: Bloody hospital. Really. Bloody, horror movie hospital :|

Author’s notes: Took some time, but hey, we're here!! Funfact: I have this extention on my browser that changes some words of what I'm reading to a target language I'm wanting to learn, and now Magical Donuts appear in my browser as Magical Beignets. I absolutely adored it and I might re-read everything just to laugh at the random French words being thrown here.

I hope you like how it's turning out!! A lot more to come!! And thank you so much for reading and being around ^^

Chapter 5

Hospital Arklay Hill, April 29th, 2001 – 22h03

The way to the hospital was a lot quieter than any of you could have anticipated. The rule was to save ammo and move without drawing attention, always trying to get to the hospital as fast as possible. Even though you were in Leon’s schedule, you still considered yourselves late.

You followed with Leon leading the way, as agreed. He dreaded the possibility of you getting caught by surprise if you were ahead of him – even if you said you knew your way around guns, Leon had a certain trauma of losing people in situations like the one you found yourselves in.

“Y/n. Can you talk to Valerie?” As soon as you found shelter behind an ambulance tumbled in the street, he finally talked to you. “We’re almost there.”

“Yeah, I can.” You started fumbling with the radio, its only purpose to communicate with the hospital survivors. You spoke with no answer for a while until you heard a hiss in response, fixing the frequency so you could hear it better. “Valerie? Can you hear me well?”

“Hi, y/n? Yes! Yes, I can!” The woman was clearly smiling, being washed by the happiness of knowing you didn’t abandon them. “How are you? Did you meet Leon?”

“Yeah, he’s here with me.”

“Hey, we’re almost there, Valerie.” Leon sat by your side, close enough so you touched shoulders. You kept the radio near your faces, making you both lean into it a little so you didn’t have to speak too loud.

“We need to know where you are in the hospital.” You added, glancing quickly at Leon. “And if you can go to a place where the extraction will be easier.”

“I don’t know if we can… I don’t even know where an easier place would be in here.” Valerie sighed, speaking in a lower voice tone while the other survivors argued about something else. “Almost all the patients got affected by this… I don’t know… Epidemics? I don’t even know how to call it.” She shook her head, sitting in the corner of the room so she could guarantee a little peace. “We managed to lock ourselves in one of the exam rooms; it’s not that hard to get here… After the reception, you need to turn right and then left in a long corridor. In this corridor, there’ll be a lot of doors: the third one to the right, you’ll get into a restricted area, the corridor to the exam rooms. We are in the…” And Valerie took a few seconds, mentally counting. “Fifth? Sixth door to the left? Sorry, I can’t remember for sure… But when you get here, we’ll hear you.”

“Hmmm, just a sec…” You had a good memory and Leon was trained to keep a good amount of information, especially in moments like those. But he had no idea of the hospital’s architecture and with that, you could help. “Leon, you wouldn’t happen to have a pen in one of those many magic pockets, would you…?”

Leon furrowed his brows, giving you a funny look as if asking what the hell you were thinking at the same time he scolded your comment about him taking so many things to the field. After Raccoon City, he became stupidly proficient in inventory management in the field and he had a good idea what was useful or not. A map and a pen proved to be crucial when he got stuck in the police department and roaming around the underground laboratory, trying to find everything he needed to leave those places.

So yes, even though he didn’t want to admit, he had a pen that he took off one of his many pockets almost against his will. That only made you smile.

“Thank you, Mary Poppins. You wouldn’t happen to have a piece of paper too, right…?”

Leon rolled his eyes as he took the map he folded enough to fit one of the pockets. Of every nickname he could have had in his lifetime, ‘Mary Poppins’ would be the last he would’ve imagined to be graced with.

“Ok, here we go…” You held the pen cap between your teeth while laying the map on your thighs. Leon could only hold the radio and accept his fate. “Can you repeat it, Valerie? Please?”

As the woman spoke, you drew a little map of the hospital on the back of the city’s map, trying to remember the sizes of the rooms so Leon would have a better idea of the place you were going in – as well as help you remember all the details without having to call Valerie all the time.

“It isn’t that far away from the hospital entrance.” You showed the place in the improvised map. You pointed the path with the pen. “If we clear the way from the entrance to the exam room, we won’t have to go in deeper and, with a little luck, we’ll be able to leave with no further problems.”

“Hmmm…” Leon analyzed the drawing. You were right, but… “There are other rooms along the way, right?” You just nodded in response. “There’s no way for us to know how many zombies are inside each room and if they are open or not. We can clean the way there, but it’s always possible for something to appear along the way.”

“That’s why one of us should lead the way and the other should be on the back, as we’re doing right now.”

“Ok. I’ll go ahead when we get there and, when we’re leaving, I’ll be on the back and you’ll lead.” Leon checked how many bullets he had left on his handgun – up until that moment, he didn’t see a use for the shotgun but that was about to change. He could feel it. “I think it’s worse if something we don’t know follow us from the inside of the hospital than another zombie crossing our already cleared path.”

“Fair enough.” You agreed more so you wouldn’t argue than anything else: you had lots of arguments to state you were more than capable of dealing with whatever creature that appeared from the insides of the hospital, but you could delay that argument.

“I need to warn you…” Again, Valerie lowered her voice. She was quiet for a while, considering if she would continue the warning. “I’m not sure what I saw. But I think… I think I saw… Something… Different from the people who were infected. Horrible. It looked like it was out of a horror movie…

“What was it, Valerie?” Up until that moment, Leon had reasons to believe what happened in that city was the result of a virus outbreak, but other creatures? Raccoon City was used as a laboratory, but New Setosa? Was it a field test? Whose? Umbrella’s? A lot of questions crossed his head at the same time; and none had an answer. “Can you describe it to me?”

“No. I can’t.” The woman’s answer was adamant. “I closed my eyes and remained quiet. But it looked like… An animal. That thing couldn’t be human. It wasn’t human.

“How many are there?”

“I don’t know either. I just saw one and when I realized it was far, I ran the fastest I could and didn’t leave this room anymore.” She remained in silence while you both waited patiently. “Out of everything that’s out there, that’s what I’m afraid the most.”

“We’ll find a way. If we find one of these things along the way, we’ll manage.” You had certainty in your voice, making Leon discreetly look at you. It was incredible how you remained brave, even if apparently – even when you had all the reasons to be scared.

As the conversation came to an end, you went back to your walk towards the hospital – now you could see the big, white building with green windows in the distance; the luminous sign with the letters spelling “Hospital Arklay Hill” was clearly stained with blood and some of them had a hard time shining, twinkling among the darkness of that night.

“Do you know what she was talking about, Leon?” Your question was quiet, following him as fast as you could without attracting a horde of zombies.

“I’m not sure…” He glanced quickly over his shoulders. “I saw a lot of things that couldn’t be considered human in Raccoon, that’s why I asked her to describe it to me. It’d be easier if we went in knowing what we’ll find, but the virus affects people in different ways: some become undead, others mutate into things that could easily come out of a horror movie.”

That made you think in silence – it wasn’t just Leon who had his doubts about what was going on in New Setosa. Initially, everyone thought it was a sudden epidemics of a virus attacking the nervous system: some people were quarantined in the hospital, until it started to spread – you had never seen a disease that spread so quickly. You also had never seen a pandemics, but that’s how you imagined an epicenter to be: non-stop contagion, loss of control and deaths. So many deaths.

You were scared. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were. Your feet didn’t really want to follow your will to move forward – but, if you didn’t go with Leon, he would have to go in alone.

And if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t want to be alone – as well as if you were one of those people in the hospital, you would want someone to save you. You couldn’t turn back now.

“Are you ok?” Leon checked while taking the map from one of his pockets to make sure you were in the right path and what the objective was. Leon remembered quite well, but he wanted to have a better idea – and maybe, seeing the hospital in the distance, he could understand the proportions of the rooms better. “You’re too quiet all of a sudden.”

“We barely know each other and there you are, already saying I talk too much.” You raised one eyebrow as he just took a deep breath to tell you how wrong you were. “Relax. I know. I just needed to release some tension. We need to go to the second hall and turn in the first corridor.”

“The second hall is through that door, right?” He pointed to a passage closed by a milky glass door, blocking your view of the next room. You nodded in agreement. “Let’s go then. Time to hope we won’t find the thing that worries Valerie.”

With a gesture from his hands, you prepared your gun and, now walking by his side, you quickly followed to the door you hoped would still work. As soon as you approached, the doors glided open enough for just one of you to squeeze through, jamming midway open with a strength that made it tremble. You exchanged looks and Leon crossed to the other side before you, immediately checking the right side of the room as you followed him and checked the left side.

It smelled like death. The hall was big enough to harbor a considerable amount of undead, but you found only three. One of them didn’t seem to understand how to move around the reception desk and let itself free from wherever it was stuck, another was stationary, staring at you both. And the third was banging mercilessly at the vending machine, as if it had swallowed its coin and it didn’t spew out whatever it had bought. The rest, was the classic: dead people torn apart on the floor and chairs, the walls stained in blood.

“We’re running through them?” Your question was valid: you had noticed Leon had a tendency to save each and whatever resource you found or had along the way, so you thought it was better to check before doing anything.

“Hmmm…” Leon thought for a while. Going through was a good option, but it would be a problem if you found anything worse in the corridor. If that was the case, you would be stuck, with problems in the front and in the back. “We don’t know what’s in the corridor, we might get sandwiched between this problem and something worse.”

“I didn’t think of that.” Even if your answer was serious, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing internally at his choice of words. After all, it wasn’t everyday you heard ‘sandwiched’ in such a serious conversation. “Let’s go then.”

With those words, you pointed your gun to the stationary zombie as Leon followed to the reception. With two certain shots, you both wiped out those zombies, drawing the attention of the third one, who slowly turned around and finally reached out to you, dragging itself as you met Leon in the middle of the room once more. With coordinated shots, the vending machine zombie was exterminated.

“If I knew you’d shoot as well, I’d have saved the bullet.” Leon gave you a small smile, making you mirror his expression. “You shoot better than a lot of people I met.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” You answered in a quick laugh, walking by his side towards the long corridor you now needed to cross.

Leon would have asked what you meant with those words, but as soon as you reached the big white doors that blocked the corridor, you fell silent. You were lucky the survivors at least tried to leave and ended up close to the entrance: the place was huge and if they were in the most distant wings, you would have serious problems.

With your backs to the door, each of you on each side, you waited until he nodded in a sign for you to enter. You both pushed the heavy door quickly, pointing the guns as soon as you entered the corridor, ready to shoot the first thing that appeared in front of your eyes.

But there was nothing.

The corridor stretched into a pitch black darkness with broken light bulbs that twinkled in whatever rhythm, humming with the energy that crossed the useless filaments. A couple of bodies were thrown on the floor – at least as far as your eyes could see – chewed by something… Different. The walls had blood stains in shapes of hands, on the floor, feet that tried to flee in despair. Beds, syringes, gloves, hospital paraphernalia… It was all tossed along the way, as if the place was hit by a hurricane – and now, it laid in a heavy silence in the foul air.

In Leon’s experience, that kind of situation was worse than the chaos: when there were screams of despair, you usually knew what was attacking and where the survivors were. When there was only silence, all you could do was to pay attention to whatever noises and hope you wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

“Stay alert.” Leon murmured as low as he could, leading the way. Your steps were calmer and a lot more careful now that you didn’t know what you could find. With his eyes now getting used to the lack of light, Leon found the door Valerie told you about – a little farther than he had expected.

Your steps were quiet behind Leon: even if you knew how to shoot and you wanted to be there, you couldn’t deny he was the best person to lead the way – after all, he was trained to that kind of situation.

You carefully dodged the pools of blood on the floor. You didn’t want to run the risk of slipping and falling over all that mess – you were already sufficiently dirty and all you wanted was a good shower to feel as good as new. As you crossed a good part of the corridor, you approached the first passage to the right that connected that corridor to another hospital wing – through another equally dark corridor.

You would’ve had normally walked by it if you hadn’t heard a strange noise coming from that corridor.

It was like an animal’s hiss. You allowed Leon to keep walking as you turned around to make sure there was nothing else needing rescue.

And it was the first time you saw that.

A creature that looked like it had no skin, with long claws, roaming the corridor with its four paws on the floor; sharp teeth framing a long, menacing tongue. You froze in place, terror filling your eyes. It was the most horrible thing you had ever seen in your life and you didn’t know what to do. Had that thing seen you? Should you shoot?

Before you could make any kind of noise, though, one of Leon’s hands quickly covered your mouth, pulling you towards him. You didn’t resist: with eyes wide open, you turned to him and found Leon with one of his fingers on his own lips so you would remain silent. You nodded frantically and, as he let you go, Leon held one of your hands and started walking as silently as he could so you could reach the door Valerie told you about.

It wasn’t that far away, but it seemed enough for a marathon. You heard that thing sniffing around, paws heavily hitting the floor, chasing you: slowly, calculated, searching for something it knew it was escaping. The claws scratched the hospital floor, the animal hiss louder and louder. You held Leon’s hand with a little more strength.

If you had to choose how to die, it would be by zombie. Never by something like that thing that chased you.

You risked a look above your shoulders, finding that thing finally reaching the spot in the corridor where you were before. There was so little left for you to reach the door. Leon pulled you closer, walking a few last steps to get to the next passage.

You almost said something when you saw that thing jerking its ugly head towards you. Stopping in front of the door, Leon finally looked at it: they were about to be noticed. You were so close. It knew.

Leon looked at you and tried, as best as possible, to tell you through hand signs to run as soon as he opened the door. You nodded in affirmation and, as soon as Leon pushed one of the metal bars to open it, the thing raised its head like a dog, screeching like chalk on a board, viciously running towards you.

“Go!” Leon did his best so you entered the corridor before him, quickly following. To your terror, the thing that chased you was too fast.

Leon wouldn’t be able to get in: having crossed the door, you saw the claws of that thing already prepared to tear his back open – and that would be a huge problem.

As he tried to escape, you didn’t think twice: aiming your gun, you almost emptied it in that thing’s head. You didn’t know how many bullets you needed, nor how many of them were there, and you didn’t even care if you needed to go on in complete silence – you wouldn’t allow that thing to kill Leon in such a stupid manner.

The creature fell heavily on the floor while Leon stumbled into the corridor you found yourself in. That thing’s tongue stretched until almost hitting your feet, as if even in death it wanted to tear you apart.

“What the fuck is this?!” That was the only thing you managed to ask, still staring at that thing with widened eyes, your hands trembling on your gun. You didn’t even have to state the adrenaline shock had been strong.

“Dunno. The guys at the station called it Licker.” Leon took a few deep breaths, a little discombobulated by how you had emptied your gun on the Licker instead of running in despair or screaming for help – saving his life in the process. “The good news, they are as blind as a bat. The bad news, those things smell and hear very well, so we need to be very careful and not make any noises when we see one of them.”

“Hmmm… I remember that name, Claire mentioned it a few times…” You also took a deep breath, giving that thing a last look. “I didn’t think it would be that ugly. And scary.”

“Oh, c’mon. They could win a beauty pageant.” Albeit the seriousness, you could hear a hint of a laugh in the back of his voice as you got back on track.

At least you were lucky enough for that place to be empty.

“I’ve never seen such a funny person in an apocalypse.” You aimed your gun above Leon’s shoulders in case something appeared in front of him. You didn’t hear any menacing noises, but that was only worse, considering the situation.

“Well, not my first apocalypse.” He shrugged, thinking about his own words. Who would’ve known one day he would find himself saying something like that. He imagined where he would be in four or five years, how he would handle that kind of situation. He hoped he would be an agent who feared nothing and could deal with things objectively, and even with a certain level of humor. “Which door? Fourth or fifth?”

“Actually, fifth or sixth. She didn’t really know.” You corrected him, pointing to the nearest door. “Let’s go?”

“Yeah. You go ahead.” He pointed the door with his head, giving you cover.

“Valerie?” You lightly knocked on the door to avoid too many noises, even if you had just done a whole rock show with all those shots in the Licker’s head a while ago. You didn’t notice, but a hiss echoed from the end of the corridor, making Leon aim his gun and his flashlight into the darkness, finding anything in return. “It’s us! Y/n and Leon!”

You heard a commotion inside the room and it confirmed you were at the right door. While the click of it opening and the handle moved to greet you, the hiss repeated itself, louder – but, as soon as the door opened, the sound of claws hitting the floor added to the soundtrack.

You, Leon and Valerie looked in the direction of the origin of the sounds – with the claws taking a vicious speed – making you hold Leon by his bulletproof vest and run inside the room as fast as you could, not allowing him nor Valerie to think of something else. The nurse, though, was quick enough to lock the door as soon as you stumbled inside, making the creature lose your track – without ever leaving the corridor.

“You’re here! Alive!” Valerie immediately locked her arms around your neck, holding you as if there was no tomorrow. You widened your eyes, glancing at Leon. He just giggled: it wasn’t everyday he saw someone so uncomfortable with hugs as you seemed to be at that moment. “Thank you so much…!”

“Thank you for what, Valerie?” A grumpy man interrupted the moment, stuffing his clammy hands in the dirty lab coat pocket. “They can very well end up locked up in here with us! They haven’t done anything to save us yet!”

“But we will, sir.” Leon tried to be diplomatic, noticing not so friendly looks shot at the man from you and Valerie. Someone had to be the voice of reason in there, or the very survivors would end up killing each other. “The goal is to leave here right now so we’ll get to the school at 22h20.”

“And then we’re gonna do what? Open the books and start studyin’?” The man wiped some of the sweat that dripped from his greasy hair, his little eyes filled with anger amidst that stuffy room. “Or you’re gonna find a magic way to get us out of this damned city?”

If Leon was younger, he would’ve answered with calm and patience.

But he wasn’t that rookie cop from Raccoon City anymore. He didn’t need to have that much patience. Not after all he had been through.

“As Special Agent from the Government working under direct orders from the President, I have a special task team with the best soldiers from the army, ready for an extraction operation of the survivors in New Setosa.” Leon was probably being too harsh, but, honestly, someone would have to put that guy in his place, be it by being gentle or by brute force. And, right now, Leon wasn’t that inclined to being gentle. “I think it’s enough magic to deal with this situation.”

And that talk was over.

“Under direct orders from the President…?” You had your arms crossed, slowly approaching Leon while he organized what was left of the ammo and loaded the shotgun. He raised his eyes to you, finding you with a small smile coloring your lips. That made Leon mirror your reaction, a little embarrassed by the way he spoke before.

But that guy really pissed him off.

After his answer, the survivors gathered to listen to the instructions on how they would cross the city to the school – having that little intermission to prepare ammo, items they wanted to take with them, care for any wounds and get ready for the journey to safety. And, while Leon got ready in his own lone corner of the room, you approached to talk to him.

“Yeah… That’s what happens when you survive a disaster like Raccoon.” He sighed slightly. “I ended up as a Special Agent just because of that, I’m the only one with this expertise.”

“I doubt all Special Agents have direct orders from the President of the United States.” You leaned on the bed Leon used to keep the guns and ammo as he counted and organized them. “C’mon, Leon. You didn’t get here ‘just’ because your star twinkled in Raccoon. To have this kind of job, you need to not only be a good agent, but an intelligent one as well.”

“Oh, well…” Leon shrugged, feeling his cheeks slightly burning and trying to do his best for you not to notice it. At least he was lucky: the lights from the room were broken. “You’re gonna have to ask that to the President.”

You narrowed your eyes, smiling right after. You didn’t know if it was just something he was saying to escape that conversation and dodge a compliment or if he was trying to tease you.

And, when you noticed the ghost of a smile in the corner of his lips, you knew it was a bit of both.

“So cocky.” You muttered back, making him raise his eyebrows and stare you in shock – but clearly holding back a laugh. “After that, I’ll only leave you with the shotgun ‘cause you’re the one dealing with that monstrosity outside, Mr. super-government-agent friends with the President.”

“Ok, I’m not complainin’.” And he loaded said gun, already leaving it ready with the strap across his shoulders. “Here. More ammo for your gun. After you shot that Licker like a cowboy, you’re gonna need it.”

“And I would’ve shot it more if I could.” You answered while reloading your handgun. Two magazines were probably more than Leon could give you at the moment – but you had already learned he had a big heart. “I’ll lead the way? As we agreed before?”

“I’m the one with the shotgun, ain’t I?” He raised one eyebrow, making you flash a little smile at the answer. “At that pace, you’ll end up workin’ for the President as well.”

“Yeah, right…” You shook your head, deflecting the compliment. Even so, you winked back at him. “If you’re my partner, I’ll think about it.”

“I can make that happen, alright?” Leon pointed at you, making you giggle. “You ready? It’s time to go.”

“Yeah. I think you should ask them that.”

Indeed, the survivors didn’t look too excited – but as Leon knew quite well, you didn’t need excitement to save your own life: you just had to run and never look back.

To be continued...

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urbanpineapplefarmer · 6 months

Note

I just saw your tags under the post about rosy maple moths and where do you live that you saw them regularly growing up? I have never seen one in person in my life

Central New Hampshire!

My family was a little under an hour south/southwest of the White Mountains, solidly in the foothills and right on a lake. We have bug lights at all the outside doors and when you go to turn them off in the morning there’ll be like ten rosy maple moths (as well as some Luna moths, tiger moths, mayflies, and other moths I don’t know well enough to ID at a glance) all clustered around the light just chilling. They’re pretty easy to pick up either by scooping them off whatever wall they're clinging to or, if they’re flitting about, by just kinda sticking your finger near enough for them to catch you. They’re so relaxed and chill (and also really fuzzy)!

(Not my photo but I can’t find mine right now)

These little guys are native to North America (per iNaturalist, pretty much everywhere east of Texas/Kansas/The Dakotas) but I haven’t seen them as frequently in the southeast. Admittedly I’m (nowadays) in that region early-fall-to-late-spring in a small city and I’m up in New Hampshire in the middle of a forest over the summer, so that definitely affects when/where I’m seeing them.

Rosy Maple Moths live in deciduous forests and the caterpillars live and feed on all kinds of maple trees and the occasional oak tree, so you probably won't find them in bigger cities, grasslands, or west of the Rockies (lots of fauna only exist on one side of the Rockies because those mountains are a pain in the ass to cross). Despite pink and yellow being a rather distinct color combo to human eyes, the moths blend in really well with the seed pods of maple trees.

I genuinely love these little guys and I always appreciate having a reason to remember just how unique they are! A friend once said something to me to the effect of "If fairies are real, they're Rosy Maple Moths" which is like the best description of these little guys I've ever heard.

#thank you for the ask!!!#i love getting the chance to mildly infodump about the natural world i grew up in #rosy maple moth #is one of my favorite bugs as of only very recently bc i grew up with them being just another nuisance of a moth #but then i started studying envi sci at uni and working as a naturalist educator in new hampshire for elementary/middle schoolers #and suddenly they were literally like fairies to me #i mean... all the other annoying bugs of my youth also became like 10x cooler when i was teaching other people about them but still #rosy maple moths have a place in my heart like no others

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

Brazen Qualities Ch 1

Warnings: Language.

The 24 hour news channel was playing quietly on your office t.v while you were working through your most recent argument, yet another senator caught in a scandalous affair, no surprise there. Now it was your job to remind both the upper politicians and the public that just because he preferred 21 year old blondes to his wife didn’t mean he wasn’t good at his job. There was a knock at the door, your assistant announcing that you had a visitor. You gave a quick nod of ‘let them in’ while you finished up the page you were on.

“Ms Dunbar,” you greeted, “what can I do for you?”

“I want you on my team.”

“That was fast.”

“So you heard?” Heather chuckled as she settled into a seat across from your desk, referring to her announcement that she was running for the democratic nomination for president.

“‘Course. Can’t let something like that slip by unknown when I work predominantly in the world of politics. You have any more details to lay out for me?”

“Your official title would be my legal advisor. I want you working alongside myself and Cynthia as we plan the campaign and on the trail with us. You’ll look over speeches, debates, interviews and the like before they happen, make sure everything’s in check. If anything comes up in an attempt to slander my name, you’ll be representing me.”

“A lot of that sounds like a job for someone fresh out of law school…” you leant forward, propping your elbows on your desk, linking your fingers, “why me?”

“Because you’re the only one that took a battle to court and got the Vice President to step down. You’re also the only one to defend a politician to the Supreme Court against me and win.” She grinned, “you’re well liked and respected in both the courts and in the White House, and you’re damn good at your job. One of the finest lawyers in the country.”

“Flattery won’t get you want you want Heather.” You half teased, “you do remember I’m childhood friends with Jackie, right?” She chuckled,

“Sharp’s already gotten you has she?”

“No.” You pursed your lips, “besides, she’s too…high strung. And there’s no doubt in my mind she has more than a few skeletons in the closet.” You tapped your chin on your hands, deep in thought for a moment, “but you’re offering me a job with a definite end date. What more do you have to offer?”

“You’ll have a spot on my campaign through to the election, once I’m in office, I can offer you something more substantial.”

“And if you don’t win? I highly doubt they’ll replace me with a temp here while I’m gone. I won’t have a permanent job to come back to.”

“What’re you asking for?” Heather wasn’t one to make promises this early in the game, hell she wasn’t one to make promises a week out from the election, but she needed you on her side, and if that’s what it was going to take, she’d bite. After all, a good lawyer always knew when to make a deal.

“Solicitor General.” You replied, your forearms dropping to cross in front of you on the desk, a small smile on your lips.

“I’m not sure I can promise you that. As small as the chance of me losing is…I would hate to make a breakable deal.”

“You don’t have to worry about it if you lose. My name’s already in the running, but if I take the time off to support you it might affect my chances.”

“Underwood’s already called you?” She quirked a brow and you let out a small chuckle.

“He was on the phone with me before your resignation even hit his desk.”

“Bastard….” She muttered.

“Agreed. So what’re we talking for salary?” She slid a folded piece of paper out of her purse, placing it on the desk in front of you. You shot her a glance before unfolding it, eyes skimming the scrawled numbers, “seems generous enough.”

“There’ll be a raise after I secure the nomination.”

“Are we doing this as a verbal agreement or do you have a contract for me to sign?”

“Good girl…” Heather grinned, knowing you were too smart to enter into not only a job, but a deal like this without having it signed and written down first.

“I’ve been doing this for fourteen years Heather, I’m no yuppie.”

“I’ll have something drawn up and to you by Monday.”

“And once I’ve looked it over…you’ll have yourself a deal.” You smiled, mirroring her in standing, a hand extending to shake hers firmly, “I don’t suppose you wanting me as a visible and prominent presence on your team has anything to do with my father?” You quipped.

“The support of someone with your last name may help my standings, but this is because the only person with a finer legal mind in this country-“

“Is you…” You smirked,

“Exactly.” She smiled, picking up her bag, “I’ll call you. Thank you.” Her hand was almost on the door knob when you called out.

“Heather!” She turned back to you, a question written on her features, “I know Underwood already announced he’s not running this term, but I’d watch your back.”

“Oh?”

“We both know he’s not to be trusted. He’s already tried to pull you away from the race before he even knew you were considering running and attempted to give away your job while you were still employed. You wouldn’t even be the first person he’s blackmailed this week.” Heather paused, her hand dropping to her side as she fully turned her attention to you, a brow quirked while she decoded your words.

“You know about Justice Jacobs…”

“I used to babysit his kids.” You shrugged, “and…when you’re not available people tend to come to me. If there’s a secret within the Supreme Court, there’s a pretty good chance I already know about it.”

“Which is exactly why I want you on my team.” Heather gave you a knowing grin before leaving your office, the door shutting behind her.

In all honesty, you weren’t surprised by her coming to you, despite being a special prosecutor herself, she would need a second set of eyes with similar legal knowledge to help her get through this. Especially when she would be so buried in the political side of things. It certainly did help that your father had been one of the highest ranking Senators for Washington for years before he passed. You’d spent your entire life growing up around politics, you watched the news every morning before school by the time you were six, government related conversations were part of the usual dinner time talk. You did homework surrounded by the senate, and you won every school president election you put your name in for. Your father often bragged about it, even when you were still much to young to even think about your career, but your connections certainly helped you rise through the ranks faster than a normal law student applying for a political career would. Not that you ever wanted a seat in the office, you loved law far too much to leave it behind you, not to mention the madness that came along with politics.

Though as Heather had mentioned, it wasn’t just that you knew someone high up, you’d dedicated so much of your education to leaving no nook or cranny of the law, the constitution, or anything related unturned. You knew it as well as you knew the back of your hand. Even fresh out of Harvard you won cases no one ever would have expected you to, your wit and intelligence far beyond colleagues your age. It wasn’t long before you secured a job working with the government, and it surprisingly didn’t take you very long to prove that you were more than the young pretty thing with a law degree roaming the halls. You were barely thirty when you took down the Vice President, facing off against Dunbar herself a few years later. She’d been so confident that she had the case in the bag, someone like you couldn’t possibly have the skill to take her on, but you’d rendered her speechless more than once during the trial, a simple smirk on your face as you headed back to the defence table.

It was in that moment she knew she needed you on her side, no matter what the circumstance. You became slow friends, exchanging pleasantries whenever you ran into each other in the halls. You rarely interacted outside of the professional environment aside from the very few run ins on days off. Though she was quick to offer a business card, offering up advice or support if you ever needed it on a case. You were hesitant at first, politics were always involved obviously, and you could never know what someone’s true motives were unless you really knew and trusted them. You reluctantly went to dinner with her when you had a very difficult case, and were surprised when she actually was in support of you, giving more than great advice that ended up with you winning the case.

From then on in you trusted her, you’d always respected her, admired the career she’d managed to build for herself. Your interaction was still minimal, professional, but it seemed like things were about to evolve. She was no longer your superior lawyer, she was a candidate, and you were her entire legal team for until she won this race.

It was safe to say that your relationship with Heather Dunbar was about to take a very big change.

#heather dunbar #heather dunbar x reader #brazen qualities #house of cards

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