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ifonlyyuweremine · 10 months ago

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Captain’s Girl. [Part I]

John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)

Synopsis: After Laswell pitches you a favor to join 141, you're left with no choice but to accept. The only problem arises when you and the Captain start to butt heads, but if the two of you hate each other as much as you say, then why is the rest of the team calling you his girl?

Tags: Enemies to lovers, tension, military romance, forbidden love, smut, fighting, secret feelings, slow burn.

Word count? You know the drill, it’s long.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

‘Captain John Price.’ You skimmed the document again, his name catching your eye for the third or fourth time. The black ink seemed to bleed together against the crisp paper of your enrollment documents into Special Forces Task Force 141. It was a promotion, and an honor at that, special forces to begin with were selective.

But 141 was almost unheard of, a combination of British special forces and American special forces. They were one of the best, and you were about to become a part of it. You read the documents again.

‘All personnel will be working under John Price and answering to Kate Laswell, respectively-’ Your eyes trailed further along the mess of columned words, making sense of the legality aspects of transferring to a new team. You hadn't expected to be transferred over, not until Kate had contacted you with an offer. You could tell she was put under pressure by the way her voice strained against the receiver…

“Look, I need you here. Ever since Shepard went rogue, we've been a bit tight over here. John has stepped in as commanding officer; technically, we already have a sharpshooter on 141. But we could use a hand, just until we sort out our bearings. Then, if you'd like, I can transfer you back to your current team…”

You'd raised an eyebrow, “Laswell, you're acting like I'm the only one who can fill these shoes. Why don't you hire a private contractor from KorTac? I'm sure they have more experience anyway.” You heard her blow out air from her nose, amused. “[Name], I don't think I have to tell you how much these guys hate private contractors. We need someone who can work as a collective team, you know… integrate themselves for the time being.”

You pursed your lips together, weighing out the pros and cons. However, Laswell was one of the best people you had ever met, a long-time friend since the baby days of your recruitment. She was a woman of her word, and she had your back. And if she said this team needed someone, she was being serious. You sighed, leaning back, “Okay, send me the details, Laswell. I'll think about it.”

…You read the contract one last time; it was simple enough. You would be transferred to 141 at the end of the month; it was a year-long contract. Which, in a way, made you a private contractor, too. The rest of 141 was under the impression that you were there to stay, everyone except the Captain and, of course, Laswell, not that she was on 141. If they decided they didn't need you before the contract ended, you could pick to stay for the remainder of the year or transfer back to your original task force.

A sigh left your mouth; you picked up your pen and flipped to the last page. Etching your signature into the blank line. You had till the end of the month; as of that moment, you were officially a member of 141.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Well, you had to give Laswell credit where credit was due. It had been a few weeks since your arrival and you fit in quite smoothly into 141; you believe she called it “integrating.” To nobody's surprise, the team was almost entirely men, aside from Ferrah, who was stationed elsewhere. It hadn't been long since your arrival until you were bound to run into someone; Jhonny was the first…

It was later in the day and you were wandering about; transferring to a new location was something you never got used to, so you tried to get a head start on mapping out the place. Everything was similar to your last base, but you still felt a bit alien. A small room tucked off to the side caught your eye, and you followed in that direction. It was a small break room, a kitchen, and a fridge tucked away in the side; there were a few cupboards and a single run-down couch.

You mosied over to the kitchen, opening cupboards and looking inside drawers. You found the usual silverware, mugs, napkins, junk, and tea bags. You stopped; tea actually sounded pretty good. Sitting on the counter was one of those electric tea kettles; you reached for it.

Waiting until the water was boiling, you grabbed the first mug you saw in the cupboard. As you dipped one of the tea bags into the scalding liquid, the door handle jostled across the room. You heard him before you saw him; his voice was deep, a bit raspy, with a thick Scottish accent. Walking through the door came a man dressed in sweatpants and a military-issued shirt. His head was shaved aside from a cropped mohawk of brown hair. His face was pulled into a subtle frown with his eyebrows furrowed. A phone pressed against his head by his shoulder.

You locked eyes with him, the pale spheres of his eyes boring into yours. You could tell he was studying you, maybe trying to deduce if he had seen you before or if you were a stranger. Suddenly, you heard muffled talking coming from the receiver of his phone. You looked down at your tea, not wanting to be considered rude for staring.

The man's voice came again, but it was almost unreadable. It was like a different language, probably Scottish, and then it stopped. When you looked back up, he was standing a few feet away from you, reaching into one of the cupboards.

“Sisters.”

You blinked; it took you a moment to understand he was talking to you. “I-What?” You asked, caught off guard by his comment. He looked back at you, holding up his phone. “S’who I was talking to.” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you nodded slowly; it was an odd way of making conversation. “Oh, okay…You uh- don't look too happy about it, family troubles?” You asked, his lips cracked into a soft smile, and he shook his head. “Nah, she's just a bit dafty. She's auld, so she feels the need to boss me around from time to time.”

You nodded along, trying to use context clues to understand some of his choice words. You watched him fill his mug with some water you had just boiled. “Ah, I see. I'm not sure I can relate; I'm the oldest sibling, so maybe I do all the bossing around.” He nodded, one of his thick eyebrows rasing, “How many siblings?”

You smiled, “Just two, a brother and sister.” The man hummed, looking down at his tea. “Gotcha…” A silence enveloped the room, and after another agonizing moment, he spoke up again. “You a new hire around here? Can't say I would forget a face like yours, lass.” You nodded, glad that the silence had been put to rest, a smile growing on your face at his comment. “Yeah, new transfer to 141.” Suddenly, his eyes grew more comprehensive, “You're the newbie?” He said, astonished.

You chuckled softly, “I wouldn't say newbie; I'm just a transfer from another unit.” His face cracked into a grin, “No kidding, apologies, didn't mean to come off as rude.” He held his hand out to you, “Johnny McTavish, team calls me Soap.”

Your eyebrows raised, “You're a part of 141?” His smile didn't fade as he nodded, “Aye, sharpshooter and sniper.” You felt a grin creeping up on your face; this Soap guy was friendly. Way friendlier than you thought the people on 141 would be. “I’m [Name]. I'm also a sharpshooter, but I also work with mechanics and firearms. Soap is…uh pretty interesting call sign, any meaning behind it?” You saw something in his eye; maybe it was pride, or perhaps something more sinister, “Well, when you clean out a room as fast as I do, people notice. You ain't got a callsign, Bonnie?”

You shook your head, “No, I guess my name has always just done the job.” Soap pat you on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you one.” You and Soap just talked for the next few minutes; it was nice. The conversation ebbed and flowed without problem; he nodded to the door after your tea was nearly empty. “Aye, Bonnie, why don’t I take you to meet the rest of the team? Give you a head start on the meet and greet.”

You smiled, “Yeah, why not?”

…The more time you spent with the team, the easier it got; it helped that they made good conversation. Jhonny was…well, Johnny, good sense of humor but never knew when to quit. Ghost was quieter; he didn't trust you immediately, but you'd managed to pull a few chuckles from him and the occasional polite conversation.

Kyle Garrick, or ‘Gaz,’ was an all-around good guy, funny, polite, and incredibly talented. You could never get over the time that you had gotten drunk off your ass, and Ghost told you a story of when Gaz fell out from a helicopter and was shooting at people while he was swinging from the airborne vehicle.

And then there was Price. Captain John Price, you'd met Price a day after Soap introduced you to the rest of the boys. To say the atmosphere was tense between you would be an understatement. From the minute he laid his eyes on you, they went stiff. His whole demeanor around you reminded you of a rock; it was like he didn't even want you on the team. His voice went curt, and whenever you spoke, his eyes bore holes into your head like he wanted to shoot lasers into your brain by just staring.

You'd talk about it to the rest of the team, but they shrugged it off. “Maybe he ain't used to you yet; it takes a while for the lad to trust anyone. He usually puts on the tough guy act for new recruits.” Ghost had said; Jhonny snorted at that. “Tough guy act? Dinnae, nothing bout that; when I first joined, the man made me want to pull out my hair. Think that's more than a tough guy act L.T.”

Usually, this wouldn't have bothered you as much as it did. But for some odd reason, he got under your skin like nobody else could. And believe, you were no stranger to difficult co-workers and bosses. Even worse, your first interaction with him was incredibly awkward, and you couldn't have left a good impression even if you had tried. It was almost etched into your mind like a stone tablet…

It was your last day to set up, get used to the team and your surroundings before you started working. The three days you had to relax were mostly spent either in the base gym, or eating in the cafeteria. What could you say, you were a creature of habit.

Until this point, you had met almost the entire team besides the captain. Technically, you weren’t required to meet him until you started working, but you'd already met everyone else. So, you figured it wouldn't hurt to get acquainted. You pried the information about Price’s whereabouts from Gaz: “I haven't seen him up and about today; usually, he's around. It probably means he's hauled up in his piss-poor office. The guy hates it there but usually locks himself up there when he's in a bad mood or has paperwork.”

Despite his warning, you went ahead and searched for Price’s office. That was mistake number one. After a minute or two of searching, you came across a door with the engraving “Price” carved into the wood in neat lettering. You reached for the door and tried to turn the handle, but nothing. It was locked; you frowned and tried again. But to nobody's surprise, the door remained shut.

So, you resorted to the next best thing. You knocked a few times but were met with radio silence. Maybe he wasn't in there, you chewed on your lip, thinking. There was a small window in the door, but it was covered by blinds. You squinted, pressing your hands to the wood and moving your face inches from the glass; you tried to peer inside despite the closed blinds. That was mistake number two.

“Can I help you?”

You jumped. The voice came from behind you. It was deep with a smooth British accent; you whirled around to face the person. Your eyes met what was possibly, in your opinion, sex on two legs. The man was tall and built like a tank, judging from how his biceps and chest filled out his cotton shirt. His face was stern, with short-cropped brown hair and a muttonchop beard. His eyes a deep shade of blue, you swallowed.

Damn.

You didn't believe you had a type, but this guy probably would've checked off all the boxes if you did. You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment; when he raised his eyebrow, you snapped out of your trance-like state. “I’m-uh looking for Captain Price. I thought I'd check his office, but I don't think he's there.” You cringed; your voice was rushed, a pitch higher, too.

The man crossed his arms; god, he could probably pop your head like a balloon with those things alone. “Well, you found him.” He said plainly. You stared at him briefly; of course, he was the captain. Why else would he be here? You wanted to punch yourself in the gut. “Oh,” you breathed, “great then. I wanted to introduce myself; I'm the new transfer.” You tried to muster up a confident smile, which most likely had the opposite effect, given he was looking at you like you'd grown a second head.

“[Name], I know. I read your file.” He deadpanned. His voice caught you a little off guard; he wasn't irritated per se, but he didn't seem happy about this introduction. You cleared your throat, “Great then, I'm sure Laswell told you I was coming?” You were grasping at strings here, trying to prolong the conversation.

“Yes. I'm well aware you are here. Laswell has a way of inserting help into my team.” You paused; well, that wasn't meant to be a compliment. Your smile faltered, and you looked around the room like this was some prank. “She said you guys needed someone…?”

Price nodded, his demeanor unsettlingly calm, “That’s her opinion. Now, I respect Laswell; she knows what she's doing. That doesn't mean I always agree with her; 141 was just fine, this is just a precaution on her part.”

You felt your eye twitch a little; you transferred from your other unit, the unit you were extremely close to, mind you… for this? You joined out of the kindness of your heart, only for this jackass to say you were ‘just a precaution.’ “Well, I hope you won't hold a grudge.” You said a bit curtly. Price pursed his lips together in a tight line.

“Wouldn't dream of it; a year is an awful long time to hold a grudge.” He said, the malice and ego coming off his tongue so strong you could almost taste it. What was this guy's problem with you? You did the nice thing and took time out of your day to introduce yourself to him. And he was treating you like you'd personally wronged him. “Good, then I won't either.” You breathed, frustrated. Price looked down at you, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “Well, that's good to hear; now, are you going to let me into my own office or keep standing there like a human blockade?”

This guy.

Your palms squeezed into fists, shooting him a nasty glare. You forgot you were standing right in front of the door, the embarrassment making the tips of your ears heat up. You pushed yourself to walk away, “It was nice meeting you, Captain.” You spit, venom in your tone, walking away like a wounded animal.

Suddenly, you somehow forgot about how hot he was; at that moment, you wanted to smash his gorgeous face into a wall. You liked your new Captain a lot more when he didn't speak. But the reality set in: John Price hated you for some unknown reason, and you were starting to hate him back.

…You had calmed down since that first encounter. Maybe it was a one-off thing; after all, you did go when Gaz warned you that he may already be in a bad mood. Maybe you had jumped the gun? and Price didn't hate you.

News flash: He hated you, and it was not a one-off encounter.

You were now a month into your new job, and if it weren't for Price, you would've actually been enjoying your time with 141. Everyone else was great; they were warming up to the idea of having you as a teammate. The training was hard on you, but you expected that, you were improving day to day. But no matter how well you did, you always had Price’s voice in your ear telling you that you could've done better. The man was running circles around you.

Slowly, you started to lose patience with him; when he laid out the bait, you bit. It was getting easier to react instead of keeping calm and passive-aggressively telling him you were grateful for the friendly criticism.

Even the team started to watch every interaction you had with the Captain keenly. They would tease you ruthlessly, saying his name while your back was turned just to laugh at the way your whole body seemed to go as stiff as a board.

“I swear the two of ya seem to bicker like an auld married couple. It's like watching my parents fight.” Soap had said to you once after an agitated conversation you'd had with Price moments before.

Was it your fault for causing some of the arguments between you two? Possibly. But he instigated just as much as you did; it was like a competition of who could get under the other's skin the most. And you couldn't even avoid him; Gaz wasn't kidding when he said he was out and about when Price wasn't in his office. He was like your shadow.

You were in the cafeteria? Oh, so was Price. You were in the gym? That's funny; Price was just about to do his workout. Training? He was practically glued to you and nitpicking everything you did. You were trying to go for a fucking walk around base past lights out? Price couldn't sleep, and as your captain, it was his obligation to make sure you didn't do anything stupid.

Intrusively, you wondered if he had implanted a tracker into you while you were sleeping. That had to be it; there was no way you just happened to experience so many ‘coincidences’ back to back.

Eleven more months, you had eleven more months stuck with him. Maybe in that time, you could come up with a detailed plan on how you would murder, hide, and successfully get away with killing your Captain.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was one of those off days where you didn’t have much to do. Like the calm before the storm, 141 had an incoming operation; plans were laid out, and everyone knew what to do. All that was left was playing the waiting game before you loaded into the helicopter and landed in a checkpoint base in Urzikstan.

With nothing to do, you figured it wouldn't hurt to hide away in the break room with some tea and scroll on your phone. You rarely had time to yourself, so you might as well make the best of it. You peeked into the break room and smiled when you found it was empty. You made a beeline to the small kitchen counter; you'd managed to snag some different types of tea for yourself over the few weeks you had been at base. It was the floral and sweet kind that nobody touched, despite Ghost's comment that: “It's not real tea.” You found it incredibly enjoyable.

As you turned on the electric kettle, the doorknob jostled. You looked up, and your eyes met Price. Well, shit. He made eye contact with you. Obviously, the feeling between you two was mutual based on how his lips dropped into a frown when he saw you. You stared at each other for a beat before you turned your head away.

You weren't doing this today; you were too tired to bicker with your captain over something useless. You stared at the counter, waiting for him to leave or speak. But he did neither. Instead, he walked over to the counter and grabbed a mug. The silence between you was so loud that the room might've been quieter if you were arguing.

He was close, not enough that you were touching, but enough that his presence almost tickled your skin.

You just continued to watch the counter and your mug. Glancing at the kettle, you almost grimaced; it was barely bubbling. When did boiling water take so long? The tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. But, Price was the first to crack.

“Interesting mug,” he commented, his voice as it always was when he spoke to you. Dry. You debated not responding, but the silence was killing you just as much. “It's my favorite.” You said back, matching his tone. However, your eyes were soft as you looked at the mug before you. It was ceramic, with hand-painted fish drawn onto it. Cod, salmon, tuna, and swordfish, too, their colors vibrant compared to the barren beige of the rest of the cup.

He made a low hum sound, almost like he didn't believe you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you finally turned to look at him. You stopped briefly; his eyes had heavier bags than the last time you'd seen him. He didn't look as stern or unshakeable as usual; rather, he looked more weary, human. You forgot you were going to say something to him, “What?” You said, suspicious.

His eyes broke away from yours, looking down at his hands as they tore away the top of an instant coffee packet. Price emptied its contents into his plain white mug and cleared his throat. “Nothing, s’just that's my mug.” He said; his voice wasn't mad or accusatory. Instead, it was just like he was stating a fact.

You frowned, your eyebrows sinking further down your face. What was he talking about? You'd been using this mug for weeks; in fact, this was the first mug you'd used here, back when you first met Jhonny and the rest of the team. “That's not true; all the mugs in the cupboard are communal.” You pointed out, looking at him like you'd caught him in a bad lie.

He looked back at you, an almost smugness to his gaze. “Look at the bottom of the cup.” He said plainly. Your frown deepened, but you grabbed the mug and turned it over in your hands out of curiosity.

JP. It was painted in small lettering in the middle of the circular bottom. Your face dropped. Oh. JP, standing for John Price. It was his mug. Your face reddened as you realized you had been drinking out of his cup for the past month. Why hadn’t he said anything about it to you before now? He obviously knew, considering he'd seen you drink from it before.

You opened your mouth, trying to come up with a good defense. “But- Jhonny told me all the mugs in the break room were for everyone. Including this one.” You said, pointing at the mug in your hands.

Price raised one eyebrow, “And you believed him?” He said. The gears in your head started to turn; the guy had a point. Why had you trusted him of all people? You pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, “fucking christ Soap.” You muttered, primarily to yourself.

The steaming whistle of the kettle broke your train of thought, and your head snapped in its direction. You looked from the boiling kettle to the mug in your hand, a sigh exiting your chest. You held out the mug to him, “Here. It's yours, I'll get another one.”

Price looked surprised for a beat before his face went neutral again. He shook his head, pushing the mug back towards you. “No need; I've already got this one.” He grunted, nodding to the plain white mug sitting on his side of the counter. Before you could protest, he grabbed the kettle, pouring the hot water into his mug. Your nose scrunched as the aroma of instant coffee hit you.

He raised an eyebrow at your visceral reaction, “Not a fan of coffee now, are we?”

You cleared your throat, looking away from the blackening devil concoction. “I like coffee-” You clarified, “-just not that instant crap; it tastes like sewer water.” The curve of his lip twitched into a half-amused smile. Bringing the mug to his lips and taking a hearty sip, “noted.” Price hummed. You reached out to grab the kettle, but he handed it over to you before you could.

You raised your eyebrow; this was the closest thing you'd ever had to a friendly conversation with your Captain. You skeptically took it, breathing a ‘thanks’ to him. A comfortable silence fell on the both of you; Price could drink his coffee while you waited for your tea to brew.

Your eyes seemed to pull towards his direction as you waited, observing the curve of his lips, his nose that was just a bit crooked, and the coarse hair of his beard that thinned into stubble the further down his neck it went. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed his drink and how his large hand seemed to make the mug seem small. He somehow pulled off looking like he hadn't slept in weeks, which ticked you off somewhat.

He shot you a sideways glance, “You're staring.” Price said flatly; you looked like a deer caught in headlights. “I was…zoning out. And for the record, I was looking at the-uh wall behind you.” You cringed at yourself; the long pauses and uhs weren't adding to your credibility.

Price gave you a funny look, turning to look at the refrigerator behind him, which was most definitely not a wall. He turned back to you, “The wall you said?”

Well, shit, thanks, captain obvious. You frowned, giving up, “It doesn't matter-” you huffed, “Point is, I was zoned out.”

That answer seemed to satisfy him or at least force him to drop the subject; Price shrugged and took another sip from his mug. “Let's hope you don't make a habit out of it. Wouldn't want to add that to the other list of…qualities you have.” Here we go again. You raised an eyebrow, the edge in his tone all too familiar. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “Which are?”

Price cleared his throat, gesturing his mug to you and your tea. “Theavory, for one.” Well, he got you there. You blew out air from your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you'd let him pull from you.

“Funny.” You said sarcastically.

A small smile tugged at his lips, “Yeah, well, just trying to lighten the mood between us.”

There was a pause.

The way he said ‘between us’ didn't sit right with you; what he said had undertones of bitterness, almost similar to the layers of an onion. Now, was it possible that you were reading too much into this? Yes. Was it also a tone-deaf thing to say, considering he was the primary reason you two didn't like each other in the first place? Also yes.

Don't bite the bait; don't bite the bait, “The mood you created?” You bit the bait.

He glanced at you, one of his eyebrows arching. For a second, it was silent, like he was mulling over whether it was worth it to engage. Price sighed, setting his drink down. “Look… [Name], if this is about that time when we first met, I was in a bad mood. I wasn't trying to be harsh; I'd just had a shit day. Nothing personal on you.” He craned his neck to the side, sliding a hand over his nape.

You crossed your arms. “You could've apologized,” you pointed out. Price paused, staring at you quizzically, “Why would I need to apologize?”

You almost gaped at him; his ego seemed to know no bounds. If it wasn't so irritating, it might have been comical, “You called my job a ‘precaution,’ and me, a ‘human blockade-’” You deadpanned, “-I don't like when someone downplays my whole career.” Price just stared at you blankly, his face morphing into more confusion.

“But you are a precaution.” He said, “That's the whole reason why Laswell put you here.” It was like he was explaining something to a child.

You huffed, “Captain. With all due respect, I'm a part of this team whether we like it or not. I don't want to be treated like an outsider- everyone else here seems to treat me like I belong here so why don't you? What's not to trust?” You questioned, your eyebrows pinched together and your lips pressed into a not-so-subtle frown.

“You don't belong here, though,” Price said frostily. “You're here for a year [Name], no more, no less. You belong to a different task force, so excuse me if I treat you as such.”

You stood there, stunned for a moment. A familiar feeling of resentment bubbling up inside you like the electric tea kettle. Your hands squeezed the ceramic of your mug, “Just because I'm not here to stay doesn't mean I'm any less committed to my job. I work my ass off every day to show you that I belong here. I just don’t understand why you’re too stubborn to even see that.” You huffed.

Price pursed his lips into a tight line, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer. “I don't have time to micro-manage everything you do. That's not stubborn; it's having other responsibilities besides making you feel included.”

Well, if he hadn't made you feel like a toddler before, he definitely was now. “Well, that's funny because you seem to do a perfectly good job at micromanaging everything I do despite your ‘lack of free time.’ And- I’m not asking you to make me feel included; I’m not an infant. I’m asking you to treat me with the same respect you treat everyone else with.” You hissed.

It didn’t surprise you how quickly the polite interaction with him turned into another bitter argument. When it came to Price, emotions ran high. Higher than you would like to admit.

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a child, I would respect you more.” He bit back, and you groaned, throwing your hands up in the air.

“I’m not though- I’m clearly telling you the problem between us. But since you have this…this grudge against me you won’t even listen to me.” You huffed.

Price shot you a look that said, ' I'm winning this argument, and there is nothing you can say to stop that.’

Internally, you wondered if getting dishonorably discharged was worth throwing hot tea into your captain's stupid face. Instead, you decided to look away, setting your mug on the counter with a sharp ‘clank.’ “Fine then, don't listen to me. That works, too.” You breathed through your teeth.

Price downed the rest of his coffee, throwing his head back and then setting his mug upside down in the small sink. He turned his whole body to you, crossing his arms. His blue eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows pinched together in scrutiny. “You want me to listen? Go ahead. Say what you want; I'm all ears.”

Your voice died in your throat. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you didn't put up much of a fight against him, especially not with his ‘I'm the Captain, and you are one word away from cleaning toilets’ voice.

You pressed your lips together in a tight line, and the silence between you hung dangerously quiet for another moment. “Nothing, Captain.” You said through your teeth.

Price nodded, his eyes drilling holes into you, “That's what I thought. Now, it better stay that way for the duration of the next week or so help me; I will take away every privilege you have.” With that, he promptly turned on his heel and stormed out. Leaving you, a seething statue.

You looked down at his mug, still held tightly in your hand. You glared at the painted fish, “Fuck you.” You whispered to the watercolor salmon. Your frown deepened, substantially disappointed that whispering ‘fuck you’ to your Captain's mug didn't carry the same satisfaction you'd feel if you said it straight to his face.

Arguing with him was like arguing with a brick wall. Scratch that. Arguing with Price was worse than arguing a brick wall, a brick wall wouldn't intimidate you and then storm off.

You didn't feel like finishing your tea anymore. You grit your teeth together, dumping the liquid into the sink and watching as it slides down the drain. You had a few days before the mission, and you were going to make sure that you didn't fuck anything up. Lest you suffer the wrath of Price and your own self-doubt.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Shit!”

Your head snapped toward the voice, even with the night vision gear you had everything was difficult to identify. It was safe to say you weren't a fan.

It had been 72 hours since you landed in Urzikstan, and 4 hours since you left the checkpoint base. If you had to guess, it was most likely around 0300 standard military time. Which meant you and the rest of 141 only had another two hours before you had to evacuate and hop on the trucks back to the checkpoint.

Your orders were simple enough, break into the compound and locate the underground terror group that was allegedly creating a bio-warfare laboratory. While it wasn't concreated information British and American SAS couldn't risk not sending a team to see if the tip was accurate. Being the genuine pigs of the situation didn't sit right with you but you weren't employed for your opinion on what the government chose to do and not do.

Still, being sent on a wild goose chase or worse into a trap made you more on edge. Everyone had paired up in case this was a setup and because the universe could never let you win you were grouped with Price. Which brought you back to the present moment.

“Price whats going on? talk to me.” You said in response to his curse. Trying to keep your voice as low as you could while still being audible. You weren't an expert but typically someone hissing ‘shit!’ wasn't a good sign.

In the split second before he could respond you heard the click. Along with the sound of Price’s footsteps trying to get out of the way, then came the sharp boom of a gun being fired. Only after the sound had left the barrel of the gun did you see it. The building wasn't finished, half of the construction was halted, leaving rooms unfinished, walk-offs, and random piles of rubble. Hidden behind a cement pillar a floor above, looking down at you was a person. More importantly a person behind a giant ass gun.

Shit!

You immediately threw yourself out of the way, ducking yourself behind a large amount of rubble. Your eyes scanned for Price in the darkness, frantically making sense of the objects around you. Another fire. Followed by another one. You didn't have time to look for Price. You turned your body, shielded by the debris, and pointed your gun up. It didn't take long before you locked onto the figure, you drew your breath in and pulled the trigger. The firing stopped.

You peered up over the rubble just in time to see the limp body flop over the drop-off and slam into the concrete. You were met with a deafening silence, “Price you copy?”

After a moment you heard someone move, “Yeah-” Your shoulders dropped, a breath you didn't realize you were holding escaped. You never thought hearing that deep British voice would ever make you this relieved. “Yeah, I copy.” He breathed. You stood, carefully making your way over to the corpse of your attacker. Looking down at the body, their face hidden by a cloth and glazed-over eyes looking up at the ceiling.

You grimaced, it was like looking at a dead fish. You looked up, nobody else was above. The only thing remaining was the unaccompanied sniper.

“This guy was alone.” You said, eyebrows furrowing. “And his aim was shit.” You deadpanned. Your head turned, expecting to meet Price. But were only greeted by an empty space, “Price?” You asked looking around.

“Over here.” He gruffed, you turned around. Price was standing next to a wall, his palm flat against its surface. It was like he was leaning against it, your eyes narrowed. His left leg was slightly raised off the ground, something wasn't right.

You jogged over to him, “What's the matter?” you asked, because of the night vision goggles coupled with the amount of gear he was wearing you couldn't see his face well. However, you didn't miss the way his jaw flexed. Before he could respond you pinpointed the issue. The leg that was raised had a small bullet-sized hole in his boot.

“Shit.” You breathed.

This really wasn't what you needed. You and Price had to be out of the compound in the next hour and a half, being shot in the foot was a major problem. At least it wasn't an organ, you thought. “Can you still walk?” You asked.

Price put his foot on the ground, putting his weight on it. You cringed as he let out a quiet hiss, “Yeah just fuckin’ hurts like hell.” He took a step, he was limping but he could walk. Which was a small win for both of you. Just as you opened your mouth someone spoke in your ear piece.

“[Name], Price, you copy? We heard shots.” The voice was grave, deep, with a thick British accent. Ghost.

Price answered, “We’re fine. Bastard with a sniper nicked my foot. Did any of you find the lab yet?” He said through clenched teeth, despite your dislike of your captain you felt a little guilty. If you'd seen the shooter before Price would probably be fine.

“We just found it, nobody’s here. S’a fuckin’ ghost town… no pun intended.” Ghost’s staticky voice rang in your ear, if you were in a better situation you might have laughed. Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned.

“That makes no sense.” You chimed in, “If this guy was here there should be more people. It doesn't make sense for only one person to be set up here.” You looked at Price. His head was already turned to look at you. It was a beat before anyone spoke again.

“Price.” A raspy Scottish accent this time. Soap. “The labs empty, no inventory at all. Everything is sterile.” You felt your throat run dry, the silence on the radio spoke louder than anything you or anyone else could say. Either they evacuated before the team had gotten there or the whole building was a ruse.

You looked back at the corpse lying a few feet away from you and Price. “They knew we were coming.” You breathed. The weight of your words seemed to carry for miles, but the implications might have been worse. You looked at Price, the same thoughts you had probably already running through his head. “We need to fucking leave, right now.”

Price gave a small nod, “Everyone get out. Gaz, call for emergency evac now. Leave the same way we came do not under any circumstances go further into this building.” Price demanded. Which was followed by a series of ‘copies.’ You started for the way you entered, just as you reached the empty doorframe you heard a grunt behind you. You looked back, fuck. You forgot Price was hurt, fuck, fuck, fuck. He could walk but there was no way he could run with his foot.

You doubled back, and as you ran to him Price raised his hands. Almost in protest, “I can keep up, I'm not immobile.” He exhaled, and you shot him an unimpressed look. The situation was bad enough, you weren't going to deal with this. You couldn't waste time and walking on a bad foot would only worsen it for Price in the long run.

You grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulder, one arm grabbed the back of his vest, holding his side up so his injured foot didn't hit the floor. It wasn't the most comfortable but it worked.

Price opened his mouth but you spoke before he could get a word in. “You can't keep up and you know it. Whatever problems we have don't matter right now, we've got to get out of here. God knows what the people who were here before us did to this place. But we don't have time to think about that-” Your eyes met his, the red hue of the night vision goggles making his navy eyes seem black. “-I’d much rather keep you alive but I would gladly die with you than have it be my fault that you die. So shut the fuck up and move.”

That seemed to do the trick because Price did in fact, shut the fuck up. You quickly exited with Price. It wasn't as fast as you would've liked to leave but it was the best you could do with a six-foot tank of a man leaning against you.

A few minutes later you and Price successfully made it out. The rest of the team was already waiting a ways away from the building, you let out a relieved sigh. Just being out of the compound seemed to lift a weight off your chest and calm your racing heart. Price seemed to feel the same way judging by his taunt muscles relaxing slightly.

You made your way over to the team, Ghost was the first to notice you. He did a slight double-take as he saw Price, “Thought you said the bloke nicked you?” He commented, you gently released Price letting him lean against the outside wall of an abandoned house.

Price grunted, “Yeah well he nicked me good.” He said back, Ghost nodded. Soap and Gaz peered at the bloody hole in his boot, “That’s gonna be a pain to heal I’ll tell you that.” Soap commented, and Gaz nodded along. “No kidding.”

Price’s frown deepened, and he let out a breath. “Gaz how long till evac trucks pick us up?” Gaz looked out at the open area then looked back, “I’d say twenty minutes give or take.” That answer seemed to give Price a little peace.

A few minutes had gone by, and Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were all talking with you while Price leaned against the wall silently. You glanced at your Captain, gingerly making your way over you leaned against the wall a few inches away from him. You didn't know what to say if you should say anything for that matter. Making conversation with Price wasn't your strong suit, but you felt bad.

“So…you okay?” You asked dumbly, Price gave you a look that made you want to go right back to the others. He was silent for a beat before speaking. “I got shot in the foot [Name], you tell me.” He deadpanned.

You swallowed, nodding. Asshole. No matter, you decided to take it in stride, “Right.” You breathed, “I just… wanted to check.” On second thought maybe you really should leave, it was like you were communicating with an alien. And after your last argument with Price, you walked on eggshells whenever you were around him.

The stretch of silence between the two of you lasted longer than you would've liked. But after a moment Price cleared his throat and nodded, “Thank you.” He said.

You did a bit of a double-take, thank you? Price never thanked you. It was like he was allergic to congratulating or acknowledging you in any form that wasn't to reprimand you. You must've looked as confused as you felt by the way he glanced at you and then went on. “For helping me out of there, you were prepared for the worst back there and you still had my back. I appreciate that-”

“-you uh, you did good.” He clarified.

Your mouth was probably hanging open at this point, ��you did good.’ The words hung in the air around you, filling your ears with cotton. Price your captain, Price your mortal enemy had praised you. He gave you a sideways glance, “Don't look so shocked [Name], you're still on thin ice.”

Ah, there it was, your shoulders slumped. It was better than nothing though, “Right, uhm thank you.” You said a bit awkwardly, Price gave you a small nod in return. It wasn't much, but it was acknowledgment.

After some time passed by you and the rest of 141 loaded into the trucks, starting the long drive to the checkpoint base. You tried to lean your head back and get just a little bit of rest, but after thirty minutes of failing to do so, you gave up. There was just too much in your head, too many unanswered questions. You thought about the man you'd killed, why was he there? What was the use of evacuating a building if you just left a single sniper with terrible aim lying in wait for someone to come looking around?

Did that mean they didn't know 141 specifically was coming? The question that worried you the most was the fact that if they did plan for you to raid the lab, who on the inside was feeding these people your team's operations? You shuddered. It was bad enough that commanding officer Shepard went rogue a few months prior. The SAS really didn't need another mole. Especially considering the amount of enemies the American and British military had made.

Your shoulders slumped, it didn’t really matter, what mattered was that everyone made it out. You didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if the previous occupants had left explosives inside the building. It was better to just be thankful that nothing happened.

Your first operation with 141 had been a bust, but considering the circumstances you thought it went as well as it could’ve. Not counting Price’s foot.

Subconsciously your eyes drifted over to Price, his boot had been taken off and his foot was wrapped in white garb. Just until someone could look at it properly, everyone had taken their night visions and helmets off to get some shut-eye. Your gaze drifted up until they met his face, navy eyes met yours. You froze, you hadn't realized Price was awake. The two of you didn't break eye contact for a minute, almost like a challenge of who would be the first to look away.

“You make a habit of staring at people or is it just me?” He deadpanned. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, he could never let you catch a break, could he?

“I wasn't staring, and you were looking at me too.” You defended, it didn't matter if you were staring, he wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you confess that. One of his thick eyebrows raised, “I glanced at you. There's a difference, you just happened to look up at the same time.” He said back, calm as ever.

You half rolled your eyes, he could word it however he wanted to, but in the end, it was pretty much the same thing. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.” You hummed, matching his nonchalance. Your gaze dropped back down to his bandaged foot, “How’s the foot?” You asked, hoping he wouldn't catch you changing the subject.

Price grunted, his head lulling back onto the seat. You shot a glance at his adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down before averting your eyes. “Feels like I got shot in the foot, so…not great. It's better than an organ so I won't complain that much.” He breathed.

You nodded, “You ever been shot before?” you asked, what could you say? You were curious. He nodded, clearing his throat he cast his head down to look at his chest. One of his hands pulled up his bullet vest and shirt revealing the beginnings of his abdomen, right above his hip bone there was a small scar. “Two years ago, caught me while I was down. Took forever to heal, fuckin’ hurt like hell too.”

You zeroed in on the exposed skin, it was all muscle, no surprises there. The man was built like a 4x6 brick, his skin was shiny with sweat, and from what you could see his bullet scar wasn't the only one that littered his skin. Just below the dipped fabric of his shirt was the start of a happy trail. You swallowed.

What the fuck was wrong with you? A few days ago you were plotting how you could murder him and now you're ogling a sliver of his stomach like a horny teen girl.

You absolutely did not find a single part of your boss attractive. Forget your first interaction with him when you were practically gaping over him like a fish. That didn't count. This was Price you were talking about. Sure, he was conventionally attractive with just the right amount of ruggish charm to make him mysterious. And yeah, he was built like a tank, so what? And you couldn't forget about his stupid fucking British accent, who the hell was into British accents anyways? (You were. Embarrassingly so.)

Price looked up at you, the silence making you raise an eyebrow. “See something you like aye?” He said, amusement dripping from his voice. Your eyes immediately snapped back to his face, embarrassment churning away at your insides.

“You wish,” You said back. So maybe you found some parts of your Captain hot, that didn't matter. In the end, it was still Price. And the flames of hatred don't die out just because one's enemy is a little (a lot) attractive.

Price breathed out what sounded like a laugh, he dropped the shirt. “Keep telling yourself that [Name].” Your fists squeezed together as he threw your words back at you.

You glared at him, “You're so full of it you know that?” You breathed, which only seemed to pique his interest further. You were glad the rest of the team was either sleeping or so used to your fighting that at this point they tuned you out. Jumping off a cliff seemed nice in comparison to the ruthless teasing that Soap and Ghost would enact if they found out you'd been caught ogling Price.

“Didn't realize this would strike a nerve, any particular reason why?” He said, you grimaced. You could almost taste the smugness from his tongue like syrup, “It didn't.” You said through your teeth, “Then again, egotistical men are a pain to be around. Especially ones that think everyone around them wants them.” You grumbled.

Your words seemed to have the opposite effect, Price straightened. A small tug at his lip made you want to slap that smirk right off. “I never said you wanted me, but liars always do have a way of telling on themselves don't they?” He grinned.

Something flashed in his eyes, you didn't have time to see what it was. But right now, all your willpower was devoted to not picking up your gun and giving him a matching hole in his right foot. “I think I'd rather shoot myself than be anything but professional with you.” You said frostily.

Price hummed, the smirk never leaving his face and he leaned back. “Glad the feeling is mutual.” He spoke calmly.

Your eye twitched, he was pulling that card now. Reverse physiology or whatever it was, the ‘I don't have to want you but you have to want me.’ Well too bad you didn't care, you couldn't care less. If Price didn't want you that was great-better even.

“Yeah,” You huffed, “Super glad.” You turned your head away so you didn't have to look in his direction. Maybe you should've left him in that building, it was a tempting thought. The rest of the drive back to the checkpoint was spent in silence.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The base felt dreary, everyone was still in a funk from the previous night. Everything felt just a bit more surreal, nobody was talking about what happened either. Not that there really was anything to discuss.

The checkpoint base wasn't as nice as your previous base. It wasn't even a full building, there were a few small ones but those were mostly used to store weapons. Everything else was industrial-sized tents, making privacy a luxury. It didn't even have a proper barracks, just a large tent with several stretcher-like beds placed in rows. To be completely honest the entire thing was a pile of shit. But it was a roof over your head so there was that.

You sat at a bench in the ‘commons,’ a poor excuse for food sitting in front of you. Gaz sat next to you while Ghost and Jhonny sat across from you. They all had similar grimaces plastered on their faces as they ate their protein paste.

“If I have to eat this shite for another day I'm going to go into that food storage room and light the thing up. They got us eating like dogs.” Ghost said after draining the last of his rations. You half-heartedly agreed, humming a sound of approval that was accompanied by Gaz’s small chuckle.

Soap grinned, “Don't get yer panties in a twist just yet L.T, heard they're serving dessert paste too. Courtesy of Price’s injury.”

You shivered, it sounded just as bad if not worse. Then a thought popped up, you looked around the common space. “Hey, you guys seen Price? Isn't he eating?” You hadn't seen him for almost the entire day, which was a blessing for you but it did strike you as odd when normally you couldn't get rid of him.

Gaz shrugged, “He was in the medical tent last time I saw him. The guy was getting his foot looked at, he’ll probably show up soon.”

Ghost turned his head to face you, while it was a little hard to tell with his balaclava, one of his eyebrows raised. “Awful concerned about Price aren't you? Thought you hated the man.” Your lips curled into an exasperated frown.

“I'm not. And I do hate him. I was just curious.” You brushed him off, trying to avoid his stony gaze. Soap and Gaz exchanged looks that made your eyebrows furrow.

Gaz looked at you, “What about the other day when you helped him out of the building?” Soap was next to chime in, “Or that you use his mug all the time and he lets you?”

You shot Gaz a glare, “First, he's still my Captain I'm not going to leave him in a building where I think he's going to die.” Then you directed a similar glare at Soap, “Second, I didn't know it was his mug because you tricked me into thinking the mugs were communal.” You said through your teeth.

Ghost smirked, “Sounds like you care.”

Your hands gripped the table with unnecessary force. “I do not.” You defended, the looks exchanged between them made you want to crawl into a hole. Suddenly you weren't as inclined to finish your meal. You stood, grabbing your tray of half-eaten food and trash. “I'm not hungry anymore.” You said dryly.

Soap laughed, faking a disappointed frown. “Come on lass we were just getting started with ya. Where's the fun in leaving before the real jokes start?” You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the bench and walking towards the trash.

“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” you replied as you dumped the remanence of your ‘lunch�� in the trash. Just as you were exiting the tent Soap's voice called out to you.

“Oh, if you see the old fart, tell him his dessert paste is waiting for him!” That earned an amused tug at the corner of your lips, shaking your head in exasperation as you pushed past the floppy tent entrance.

You didn't even make it a foot outside before your momentum was halted by a larger mass. Your face met something hard, but also somehow soft at the same time. You stumbled back, gaining back your balance from the force of running into something. Or more specifically, someone. You looked up in dismay to see what kind of idiot ran into you.

It was Price, because of fucking course it was.

But it was Price with the addition of a single crutch and a newly wrapped foot. Your eyes slowly crept up to his face, the mortifying reality that you slammed right into his chest setting in. What’s worse was that the previous conversation with the guys was still very fresh in your mind.

‘Sounds like you do care,’ Ghost’s words echoed in your mind, haunting you like a…well a ghost. Ironic.

“Do you mind?” Price's words snapped you out of your trance. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. It was silent for a moment before your vocal cords decided to actually comply and let you speak.

“You ran into me.” You said lamely, the tips of your ears felt hot. Like lava was slowly being poured onto your head. Price’s eyebrows furrowed, his navy eyes studying you. Even on one crutch, he seemed to tower over you in a way that made you antsy.

“Why are you red?” He asked, the question caught you off guard. Making you falter for a second time, “I-What?”

Price’s eyes narrowed a bit, a finger pointed directly at you. “Your face. It's red,” It wasn't a jab, more like he was observing a simple fact. Suddenly you became hyper-aware of the heat spreading across your face. You touched your cheek, and the pads of your fingers burned at the touch.

Oh my god.

Your face was hot, it was flushed. You were blushing. Blushing. In front of Price.

You swallowed, feeling a bob in your throat. It was like you were in one of those dreams where you showed up to school naked. “I'm allergic-” You blurted out.

A beat of silence ensued, and Price raised a single brow. “Allergic?” He said, to which you responded with a hard nod. Think, think- what was a believable lie? “Yes… to the dessert paste.”

Price didn't look skeptical now, he just looked downright confused. “What the hell is dessert paste?” He questioned, while a good question, you didn't want to stand around to explain it to him while your face looked like the cover of a period ad. You shook your head, steering around him like a robot.

“Ask soap.” You said as you made your escape, “I'm going to the med tent so I don't go into anaphylactic shock.”

That was a lie, you were going to the bathroom to rethink your career and splash cold water on your face. Leaving Price a standing statue, a perplexed look on his face.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A pack of 8 beers was slammed down onto the small table in front of where you were sitting. The bottles lightly clanked together, you looked up. “What’s this?” You asked, Soap stood in front of you with a confident grin.

“This is how we’re going to make it through our last 10 hours in this shit hole.” He proclaimed, his hands on his hips.

It was late, everyone but Price was in the sleeping tent. True to Soap’s words, in 10 hours you and the rest of 141 were finally going to load up into the heli and return to the original base. Thank goodness too, you didn't think you could stomach another meal here. Ghost looked over from his cott, “The hell did you get that from?”

Soap waved him off, smoothing over his poor example of a mohawk. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” He fished into his pant pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, grabbing one of the bottles he flicked the cap off with a soft pop’ “Since it is our last night, why not celebrate?” He went on.

You eyed the pack suspiciously, if it came from here it was probably shit beer. But it was still something, you shrugged. You reached for one, “I'll take what I can get.” You sighed.

Grabbing a bottle you snatched Soap’s knife to knock off the cap. Throwing your head back as you took a generous swig, it burned down your throat. The pungent flavor making your nose scrunch and your mouth curl. Soap did the same, smacking his lips as he swallowed. “Well…It could be worse.” He muttered.

Ghost and Gaz followed suit, walking over to your space and grabbing two bottles. After some time had passed the four of you had settled into a sort of circle, you were two beers in and things were already getting fuzzy. You didn't normally drink, mostly because you were a lightweight. But when you did drink, you got drunk. You were tipping your head back with laughter at every story, the warmth in your stomach making the tent somehow feel cozy.

Soap reached for his third bottle but Gaz swatted his hand away, “Leave some for Price Jhonny.” He scolded, Soap simply rolled his eyes and groaned. “The old man won't care, he only drinks at those shitty pubs. He's a stickler bout not drinkin’ on base, something about ‘not mixing business with pleasure’” He mocked, doing in your opinion, a decent Price impression. You chucked.

“I don't think Price takes ‘pleasure’ in anything, he's such a stick up the ass he wouldn't know fun if it hit him in the face.” You breathed, and while not the most articulate thing to say, your tongue and thoughts were loose enough that you didn't care.

Ghost’s mouth curled into a knowing smirk, “For someone who hates Price, you sure do love to talk about him any chance someone brings him up.” He said smugly, earning snickers from both Soap and Gaz.

“Oh fuck off will you?” You grumbled to Ghost, this whole teasing you about Price thing was getting old fast. “I say one thing and you guys act like I have some schoolgirl crush on him.”

Soap grinned, “You said it lass, not us.” He coughed abruptly when you smacked him in the stomach, making him lean forward to catch his breath. You glanced at Ghost who’s hands were now raised in surrender.

“Come off it [Name], we’re just teasing, you're not doing yourself any favors by acting with him the way you do.” He commented, which only confused you. All you did was argue with him, where was there room for speculation? The look on your face must've told them everything they needed to know.

“What do I do that gives off that impression even remotely?” You said defensively, they all exchanged looks.

Soap spoke up, “It's not just you bonnie, Price acts differently around you too. It just gives off a certain impression. Some people just take it the wrong way.” There was an underlying uncomfortableness to his words that you didn't miss. And who were ‘some people??’

Ghost smacked him upside the head, earning a startled grunt. “Fuckin’ twat, Soap doesn't know what he's saying.” Ghost said facing you. “He's already tipsy, don't take what he's saying to heart.” Soap was holding his head, shooting a glare at the lieutenant.

You shook your head, not ready to let it go. “No, who's some people? And what did you mean when you said ‘taking it the wrong way?’” Your eyes narrowed in on all three of them, waiting for someone to speak first. Gaz looked away, immediately giving him away as the weakest link. “Gaz what's he talking about?” You asked firmly.

He tensed up, glancing at Ghost and then back to you. “It's really nothing, it's just a silly rumor.” Ghost shot him a firm look, “Kyle-” He warned.

A rumor? What the hell was there to talk about? The last time you'd heard of a rumor going around about yourself was in high school, it wasn't a pleasant experience, to say the least. Your lips pursed into a tight line, something about how secretive they were being set you off. “What rumor?” You said, after a minute of silence, you slowly got more frustrated. “If it's about me I deserve to know.”

Ghost didn't speak, neither did Gaz, but Soap did. He blew out a sigh, glancing back at Ghost who was maintaining strict eye contact with you. “There is a bit of a widespread rumor back at base that you've been shaggin’ the boss. People started calling you Captain’s Girl.”

The pit of your stomach dropped.

You felt dizzy, looking between the three of them. Waiting for one of them to break, to smile and say ‘got you!’ but it never came. “You're joking right?” You said, laughing nervously, the longer the silence the more nauseous you became.

Ghost shook his head, his eyes hard but his demeanor a bit solemn. “We didn't want you to know for obvious reasons. Thought it would make things worse between the two of ya’ and it was just too far.” You swallowed, this was a joke. This was a joke and they were just teasing. When nobody spoke after the reality set in.

Of course, this would happen to you, you worked your ass off just to be respected in a field dominated by men. You were asked to be a part of 141. But all people saw was a slut who worked her way up the ladder by playing Miss ‘Hard to Get.’

“We tried to stop it as best we could trust us, it's just a little hard to keep quiet when word spreads fast,” Gaz interjected, his eyebrows scrunched in…guilt? Second-hand embarrassment? Sadness? You couldn't tell.

You sat there in silence, processing everything. “But- but I'm not. I'm not sleeping with him.” You sputtered.

Soap placed a hand on your shoulder, “We know you ain't. You don't need to listen to those people anyways, it's just barrack talk, people needing a story to make their lives more interesting.” A well of emotions started to flood your senses, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the gravity of the situation hitting you.

Captain’s girl.

What. The. Fuck.

This was Price’s fault. It had to have been, Soap said he was acting weird. Maybe this was all his elaborate plan to destroy your career and kick you off 141 for fraternization. It had to have been him, right? You weren't thinking as clearly as you would have liked considering you were borderline drunk, but that didn't matter. You shot up from where you were sitting, making Soap jump.

Stumbling you started to make a beeline for the entrance, Gaz also got up and followed you, much to your chagrin. “[Name]? Where are you going??” He called after you.

“To find Price!” (And kill him.) You shouted back angrily, storming outside before Gaz had the chance to stop you. Obviously, you didn't think this through enough because it was pitch dark outside. And Price was nowhere in sight, fuck.

Whatever, you could search this place for hours if you had to. He was bound to pop up somewhere, like how the tide is drawn to the moon you and Price always had a way of being pulled into each other. You stormed through the dark, almost tripping on your own feet once or twice in the process.

You'd been there long enough that you could tell what area was what. Even in the pitch-black cloak of the dark, you could feel your heartbeat in your head. It was like your body was pulsing with the rhythm of your anger. Just as you were about to start shouting his name a light caught your eye. You swiveled your neck so fast it burned the muscles in your nape. Low and behold it was Price walking out of the medical tent with his single crutch.

He stopped when he noticed you, his face a mix of confusion. “What are you doing? I thought I told you guys not to go outside after lights out?”

You felt every emotion rush back to you at the sound of his voice, the sight of his face, the fucking absurdity of the whole situation. Your hands clenched into fists, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I thought you sucked before but I underestimated how much of a jackass you could be!”

Price stood there like a deer caught in headlights, so baffled he couldn't even speak. “Excuse me?”

You marched straight up to him, “You heard me. Apparently making my life a living hell wasn't enough for you was it? You sadistic fuck. Do you get off on torturing me? Is that it?” You spat. The heat in your face rising with each word.

He didn't say anything, his navy eyes looking at you like you belonged in an insane asylum. After a minute of silence, he breathed, “[Name]. Realistically I should be laying into you right now and giving you every single punishment there is for the rest of your stay here for cursing me out after lights out with no provocation on my end. But, I'm going to give you one chance to explain why you're acting like a screaming banshee before I send your ass straight to the bins.”

His words only ticked you off further, well two could play dumb. “You know exactly why I'm angry! No provocation is such bullshit. You- You just think I'm so stupid don't you?!” You were stumbling, your mouth felt heavy. It was like your mind was moving faster than your body could keep up with.

“Are you drunk?” He asked incredulously. You shook your head, “No! I mean yes I had a few drinks but I'm not drunk. Stop deflecting-” You rambled on.

His eyes turned to narrow slits, “I don't even know what I'm deflecting- you can't just start making a scene and expect me to know why you're angry. I'm not a mind reader.” He groaned.

“The name! The rumor- whatever you call it. You spread a rumor about me to the entire base that I'm sleeping with you! People are calling me your girl! The guys told me, everyone thinks I'm some slut because of you!” Everything in your body was burning, it felt good to finally yell at him but the words hit you hard.

You were labeled as the slut. No matter what you did there was always going to be a man overshadowing you just because of a preemptive notion that you were weaker. Something you'd spent your life fighting was now your reality.

Price’s eyes went wide, he almost resembled a wooden board. For a moment his eyes softened, like he was taking pity on you. “That's what this is about.” He breathed, “Look, I’m just as upset about that rumor and the name as you are. I don't know who started it but I can give you my word it wasn't me. You can ask any one of the guys and they will tell you the same thing.”

You started to speak but he raised a hand to stop you, “-I know it's not fair. But the damage has already been done, the thing about rumors is that they pass. And nobody thinks you're a slut. You're just as capable as anyone else on this team.” He said calmly.

It was silent for a moment. You didn't really know what to do or what to believe. All you had to go on was his word, which wouldn't normally hold much weight but something about him seemed so genuine. “I- how do I know you're not lying to my face? You hate me. And I’m just supposed to believe a random person made this rumor up when you've been trying to kick me off the team from the start.”

Price halted for a moment, his face reflecting a series of conflicting emotions. “I don't hate you, and I am not trying to kick you off.”

“Well, it sure as hell doesn't seem that way, even Soap said you act differently around me. I don't understand why you fucking hate me so much when almost all I ever do is try and suck up to you!” You shouted, your voice slightly slurring with how fast the words escaped your lips.

A vein bulged in Price’s temple, his jaw working with his growing temperament. “I don't know how often we have to go through this same conversation before you get it through your thick head. I don't hate you, I'm hard on you. There's a difference.”

“Well, that's not what it looks like to me. Especially not to the mystery person who just conjured a rumor that we’re sleeping together out of thin air.” You seethed, until now you'd been standing a few feet away from him. But somehow, amid the argument, you found yourself now uncomfortably close.

Price scowled down at you, “What do you want me to say to you?! That I'm sorry I also got caught up in some dumb rumor. That I'm sorry you got your feelings hurt because I was a little harsh.”

Your mind was telling you to communicate your feelings like a normal person. The alcohol and your heart told you your fist connecting with his face was the better option. And right now, your heart (plus the alcohol) was winning.

“I want you to fucking show me you don't hate me! You can say all you want that I'm just being dramatic but there's obviously a reason why I think you hate me.” You fired back.

The two of you stood there for a moment, his eyes drilling into yours. A scowl on Price’s lips and his eyebrows pinched together, there was something about the heat of the moment that made you more on edge. You were hyperaware of everything around you, most importantly you were hyperaware of your proximity to him. The night air was cold but you were on fire.

“You want me to show you? Fine.” He grit out, and before you had time to react he was on you.

His hand was on your neck, thick and warm. Pulling you close so that his lips captured yours in what you could only describe as ‘a hungry kiss.’ The coarse hair of his beard tickled your skin and before you even knew what you were doing, you started kissing him back.

Fuck. He tasted like smoke and whiskey, a woody smell clung to him like sap. Greedily your hands pulled at him, your fingers bunching the cotton of his shirt like he'd disappear. You'd kissed men before but never in your life had anyone kissed you like this. The kiss was hot, desperate, almost angry. His tongue slid along yours, you felt the drag of his teeth nip at your bottom lip and his throaty groan when you only pulled him closer.

You couldn't remember why he was kissing you, or why you started kissing him back. You didn't know why you were so angry, nor did you pay mind to the chance that anyone could walk outside and see the two of you.

You heard his crutch absentmindedly fall to the ground, clattering against the hard dirt. Price's other hand snaked to the back of your head, curling his thick digits into the locks of your hair. His nose brushed against yours, he felt so warm. Asshole or not this man knew how to kiss.

“[Name]!”

Gaz’s voice broke you out of the trance you seemed to have been under. Immediately you and Price tore apart, your heart jackhammered in your ribcage. You looked at Price, he looked at you.

His blue eyes were blown wide, his lips parted and shiny with the reminisce of your spit. A reddish tinge colored his ears and cheeks. He looked horrified.

You didn't fair much better. You probably looked like a gaping fish. You'd just kissed Price. Price had kissed you. You two had been kissing. Holy shit.

Footsteps snapped your attention away from him, Gaz ran to meet you. His breath heavy like he’d been running around for a good amount of time. “[Name] Price didn’t start the rumor- you left before I could tell you. I-” He stopped, his eyes darting between both you and Price. You probably looked as guilty as you felt. “I…uhm I guess you two worked it out?”

There was an awkward silence before anyone spoke, Price cleared his throat, quickly wiping his lips. “She’s aware… You two go back to the tent, it’s late. We leave early tomorrow so get a good sleep.”

You were still in shock, could you even move your limbs? Another silence hovered over the three of you like a looming dust cloud. Gaz awkwardly shuffled to you, patting your shoulder as if to say ‘party's over, let’s go.’ He nodded at Price, “Right, see you in the morning Cap.”

Before you knew it, your legs were moving as Gaz led you back to the tent. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, “You alright?” He said hesitantly. You didn't know what to say to him, you didn't even know what you were feeling. And you doubted saying, ‘Honestly I don't know because two seconds ago Price's tongue was down my throat and I can't tell if I'm turned on or horrified,’ was appropriate.

So, you settled for a simple: “I’m fine.” Gaz gave you a skeptical look, but he chose not to comment on it. Once you got back to the tent Soap and Ghost had already started to get into their respective cots. Soap gave you a funny look over his shoulder, “What happened to you? You look shell-shocked.” He laughed.

You didn't even have the energy to respond, giving him a disgruntled grimace in return. You fell into your cot, burying your face into the thick sleeping bag. Your cheeks burned, and the taste of Price still lingered on your lips.

Apart of you wished that you were blackout drunk, then maybe it would be easier knowing whatever happened would disappear by the morning. But his groans, his hands in your hair, his lips, they were carved into your brain. And they weren't leaving.

You had to grapple with the reality that Price had kissed you. And you had kissed him back.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Hey, wait! Don't go!

Well… hello there. It's me again! To those of you who aren't familiar, you can call me Baebae. And to those who are welcome back! I've written fanfiction a bit before (check out my other stuff on my home page) but nothing like this. So that makes this special, and I'm happy you can join me while I embark on this new journey.

There is no spice in this chapter but it is coming in the next part. There are only two parts to this so you won’t have to wait that long. Trust me I am trying my best to crank out the next one so I’ll try my best to be quick!!

I would be so, so, so, soooo grateful if you would like, follow, or repost. Don't feel any pressure but I love hearing any feedback you can provide as I am relatively new to this and it spurs me on to know people enjoy what I put out. If you so choose you can message me or comment if you'd like me to @ you in the next part so you're notified. <3

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and I'll see you in the next part. Toodles! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Part II of Captains Girl!

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

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fumiliar · 4 days ago

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the first k.n

when you tell people the story of how you and kento got together, people are usually shocked. the expectations of how kento chased you or how he made the first move, it was all crushed.

kento was always caring, that was never questioned. but whether he liked you or not? that was always questioned during the beginning of your relationship with kento.

it all started in your first day at your new company. a fresh graduate who finally landed their first office job, and coincidentally there was also a fresh graduate joining that day, nanami kento.

kento was prim, respectful, and frankly eerily quiet. he spoke one word sentences, or however many words he found necessary. efficiency was seen in his actions, even in the way he made his coffee or ate his lunch.

since you both joined around the same time, you guys had to go through training together, clumped together. they saw you both as a package, the left and right shoe. and not only were you clumped together in social settings, you also had cubicles right beside each other. it was like fate refused to seperate you both.

your first impression of kento was that he did not like you very much. sometimes, you feel someone staring at you from the side and most of the time, it's kento squinting at you for doing something.

but one day changed it all...your workplace had a dinner get together to celebrate getting their monthly paychecks. everyone was invited, including you and kento. and being the youngest, you both kept getting teased by your higher ups.

and when the night started to die down, when the ruckus and teasing halted. kento finally spoke to you for something other than work.

"what's your favourite alcohol?" kento asked.

"i don't really enjoy any? maybe a shot of sake to kill my nerves right now."

"okay," kento stood up from the table and poured two sake shots for you both. "cheers to our first month," you clinked your glasses and drank the shot in one go.

and frankly, those small talks continued through the night, until you realised it was almost midnight. "kento, i've got to go. i've really enjoyed this convo, i hope you don't ignore me in the office after this. cause i'd be really hurt. but, it's late and i've got to get a taxi before there's none."

"i'll drive you home. i have a car," kento offered, no, stated.

"kento, you literally drank with me. no way!"

"i don't think you realised, but my only shot was the first shot we had, which was an hour ago. i'm not even tipsy, trust me. i would never put you in danger."

a little tipsy, you were quite stunned at his final words. but you accepted it nonetheless. he helped take your belongings and led you to his car. he unlocked the car, and before you could get your hand on the handle, his hand reached it first. a gentleman is what went through your head. and before you realised it, kento was already in the driver's seat.

"where do you live?" kento asked as he reached to buckle your seatbelt.

"i can do it myself," you buckled your seatbelt as you heard a chuckle from kento. "i live near, let me put my address in your maps," as you took his phone and typed in your apartment, you couldn't find it, until you realised it was under 'home'.

"you live here kento?" you asked him. and he only responded with a nod. "oh, i live here too. i can't believe i haven't met you! what's your floor?"

"im on the 6th"

"same! what a coincidence we haven't met. i've lived there for like 3 years...how long have you been living there?"

"i actually just moved in, like yesterday? my apartment was quite far and my lease was ending, so i found an apartment closer to work."

"ooh, that's why i haven't met you and why you didn't come in yesterday. "since we live in the same apartment, want to go to work and home together?"

"sure, i'd love that."

that was the start. the start of everything.

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #kento nanami #nanami x reader #fumiliardrabbles #jjk nanami #nanami fluff #nanami kento #nanami x y/n #kento x reader

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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forget me not (2) II l.williamson

part one forget me not (2) II l.williamson

"mum i need to go."

"leah no-" but her mums words were cut off as the blonde clicked end call, fingers flying against her screen until she found your contact, call after call declined until it stopped ringing all together.

she then moved to texting, sending message after message until the 'do not disturb' notification popped up and her stomach heaved, you never put your phone on do not disturb.

her guilt peaked even higher noticing all of the messages above those she'd sent to you in a panic, clearly prior to your graduation and worrying about her whereabouts.

(8) iMessages from; lover girl 💐 hey baby i just arrived, you were dead to the world when i left (shock x) i'm kind of nervous! they just handed out our caps and gowns, its feeling really real now. what if i fall over when i'm walking up?? someone just put that thought in my head and now it won't go away 🥲🥲 i can't wait to just look out and see your pretty face, you can always ground me even without trying💘💘💘 *three missed calls* less just called me, she's leaving soon so i hope you're up and showering! i know you're not the best texter in the morning anyway grumpy 🫶🏻 we have to switch our phones off and leave them in our bags now babe but i'll see you in a little while. still so nervous ah! your support means everything, i love you leah 🩵

even though leah knew you were upset, the fact you hadn't made any attempts to call or message her after her no show only solidified it further for her, the blonde selfishly sort of wishing you had to ease her guilt even just a little.

"fuck!" the girl swore as she threw her phone on the passenger seat, burying her face in her hands with a deep and prolonged exhale. "okay think leah, think." she mumbled to herself, fists balling and rubbing against her eyes until she saw stars, head thumping back against the headrest.

grabbing her phone again she winced seeing the multitude of other missed calls, from alessia, your mum, your aunt, your best friend, all worrying that something had happened to her for her not to show up, the sweet messages from your mum checking in if she was okay hitting her in the stomach in a different sort of way.

"alessia!" she realized, quickly hitting call on the girls contact, feeling like an idiot for not even noticing her friends absence and putting two and two together, this was a brand new low.

"come on!" leah grunted, calling the younger girl easily six times and each one going right to voicemail, finger hovering over your mums contact before abandoning that idea with a shake of her head.

"shit." leah swore again checking your location and noticing you'd stopped sharing with her, biting down on her bottom lip as her knee bounced and her fingers drummed against the wheel wracking her brain for anything.

"fuck me leah where did she say the celebration was afterwards?" the footballer mumbled to herself, eyes squeezing close as she tried to think back, unable to even remember you mentioning your graduation in the last few days, another nail in the coffin of realizing she had been an awful girlfriend to put it lightly.

a sudden spark of hope she grabbed her phone again, clicking into instagram and huffing when both you and alessia hadn't posted anything, searching up several of your friends and families accounts finding the same wall of silence in her way.

growing even more desperate leah clicked into an app she checked maybe once a year, only keeping her facebook active for the sake of her childhood friends.

"thank you aunty gillian, thank you!" leah whispered as a quick scroll of her feed showed your godmother had posted some pictures from the graduation and the post ceremony celebrations, a quick zoom confirming the restaurants name on a menu on the table.

without another seconds hesitation she was putting the address into maps, car roaring to life as she peeled out of the colney carpark at top speed, flying across town and swearing loudly as she seemed to hit every red light in all of london.

"williamson." she barked to the valet as she screamed to a halt in front of the hotel where the restaurant was, throwing the keys at the young boy who didn't even have time to say a word before she was pushing through the double doors and bursting inside.

"m'am im really sorry you can't-" the hostess tried to stop leah as she barreled past, ignoring her completely and hurrying into the restaurant. it didn't take her long to find your closest friends and family on a big table in the corner, alessia spotting her before anyone else did and eyes widening.

though as leah came to a screaming halt in front of them, the table falling quiet as they took her in, still clad in an arsenal tracksuit with wet hair and frantic eyes looking as you would have said had you been present, a hot mess.

"no auntie ava its alright, i'll handle it." alessia murmured to your mum as leah shrank under the scrutiny and harsh glares from your friends and family, nobody impressed with her no show even if they didn't know the full story.

"you need to leave, right now." alessia warned, grabbing the blonde by her bicep and pulling her away from the table, around the corner and out of view. "less please i can-" leah started as the younger girl held up a hand.

"i don't care leah. i've just gotten her to calm down after she's just spent twenty minutes crying in the bathroom after her big day!" alessia warned, leah taken aback by the venom in her teammates tone, the girl normally so sweet butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

but there was one thing your cousin didn't mess about with, and that was family.

"she cried?" leah deflated, voice barely above as whisper as the taller girl nodded. "yes leah she cried several times, she's heartbroken that her girlfriend didn't show up for her graduation. but rather chose to go to the same training we have four or five times a week, she saw on instagram." alessia growled, poking accusingly at leahs shoulder.

"nope." alessia held up a hand again as leah opened her mouth to pour out another excuse or hurried apology.

"i told you leah, i don't care. she deserves to enjoy the rest of her day, you've ruined enough and done more damage than you can apologize for in the two minutes you've got to leave before i let my brothers escort you outside." alessia warned seriously, jaw clenched and still gripping harshly onto leahs arm.

"but less-" "leah, go."

but right as your girlfriend was ready to get on her knees and beg alessia to get her even one minute of your attention, you came stumbling around the corner in search of your cousin.

"baby-" leah started, falling quiet with a hiss as alessia sharply pinched her and moved to put her body in between the two of you like your own personal security guard.

"you have some nerve!" you laughed, leah frowning at the slur in your voice and the way alessia hurried to catch your swaying body, shooting the older blonde a filthy glare over her shoulder as she steadied you and mumbled something in your ear.

"no i know. i'm done crying over her!" you responded, leah swallowing hard as her knees buckled with how much anger was ablaze in your eyes as your gaze moved back toward her.

"you're a little late." you mocked with a pout, voice dripping with sarcasm as your eyes burned holes in your girlfriends head, trained on her like lasers.

"bubba please if you just-" "don't leah, don't call me that." all the anger seemed to deflate out of your voice at that, the obvious hurt and betrayal in it wrapping around leahs heart and squeezing tight like a fist.

"i don't want to hear the excuses, or the apologies, i don't even want to look at you leah. i have never been so let down or dissapointed, hurt, angry, sad." you listed off every emotion which was wracking your body, pausing for a moment and swaying a little leaning into alessia more.

"i have been there for you, for everything leah. i was there by your side every day when you did your acl, through the rehab and recovery good times and bad. i didn't leave when you yelled, when you snapped, when you hurled insults just for helping because i knew you were hurting and you weren't lashing out at me." you shook your head as leah felt sick to her stomach.

"i was there for you during the world cup. i stayed in england to be there for you, watching my own cousin playing the tournament and living out her dream through a phone screen, not daring to mention the games because i knew you were devastated to miss it." you paused to swallow the tears which brimmed at your eyes.

"i have put up with a lot of shit leah, dismissed a lot of things because i love you. but this...this isn't something i can sweep under the rug and excuse because you're hurting and i want to support you. today i needed you, i needed you to support me and you couldn't even do that." you whispered, wishing you had another drink in hand for a spike of liquid courage which was bleeding rapidly out of the open wounds your girlfriends actions slashed you with.

clearing your throat you continued, tilting your chin up a little higher. "less already took me past our place and i grabbed a bag of stuff, i'm moving in with her for awhile. i don't want to see you, hear from you, nothing, until i am ready leah. i never thought you of all people were capable of hurting me like this, now please go." with that you turned around, stumbling slightly but catching yourself with a sharp inhale and marching back off to the table.

"no. leah you heard her, you need to leave." alessia's hands pressed against her chest as she tried to follow after you.

"like i said, you can go on your own terms leah, or i'll get my brothers." your cousin warned seriously, leahs mouth opening and closing before she gave in with a nod, turning and walking away.

"its another one for you!" you looked away from the football match your cousin was currently forcing you to watch, alessia appearing seconds after the bell had rung with another bunch of flowers as you got up with a sigh.

"she's consistent, you've gotta give her that." alessia shook her head as you took the flowers from her, perching herself on the arm of the lounge as your eyes scanned over the card.

"we look like we own a florist shop." your cousin commented, eyes roaming over the countless bunches of flowers littering the living and dining rooms.

"i've texted her telling her to stop!" you shook your head placing down the bunch with a deep seeded sigh, dragging your hands down your face. "what are you thinking?" your cousin asked knowingly as you wandered back toward the lounge, collapsing into it as she spun around on the arm to face you.

"i don't know." you exhaled honestly, face buried in your hands as alessia kicked you gently, looking down with a raised eyebrow. "its been two weeks and i miss her." you admitted honestly, sitting up with a slight grunt.

"but i'm also still really hurt and upset and there isn't an excuse under the sun she could make that would help that go away." you added on, grabbing a throw cushion and pushing your face into it with a scream.

"would you consider hearing her out anyway?" alessia asked, playing devils advocate as you looked back up with another sigh. "yes? no? maybe?" you groaned, laying back down on the lounge in a world of indecision.

"sounds like you want to. but you're a little scared of what that might mean? just hear her out, it doesn't mean you have to go running right back into her arms but it'll mean you're not sitting here wondering what it is she has to say." your cousin read you like a book with a small smile. "i hate that you're always right." you shook your head as alessia chuckled.

"just looking out for my little piccoli ravioli!" your cousin cooed, a grunt leaving your body as she dove on top of you, pinching your cheeks and shaking your head side to side before rolling off of you.

"you know i can very easily smother you in your sleep russo."

none the less you took her advice, reaching out to your girlfriend? ex girlfriend? you weren't even sure what the two of you were at this point given you'd had practically no contact for the last fortnight.

which is how you found yourself a few days later taking a deep breath, hand on the door to the coffee shop you'd agreed to meet up with her at, steadying yourself with a nod before you pushed it open.

you spotted her right away, her eyes trained on the door and hand raising to wave you over the very moment you stepped inside. "i got your usual, sorry the ice melted a little...i was early." leah started with a slight blush as you sat down, pushing the iced latte across the table.

"thanks." you gave her a small smile, taking a sip as an awkward silence settled between you two. "should i start? is that okay?" leah blurted out suddenly, knee bouncing nervously as you nodded and she exhaled shakily.

"i'm not going to waste your time making excuses or apologizing over and over or grovelling." leah started as you quirked an eyebrow and sipped at your drink, curious where she was going with this.

"i'm just going to be honest instead, get right to the point. baby i was a selfish blind asshole, to say the least. i took you for granted. i did not support you even a tenth as much as you did for me. i don't deserve you, i don't deserve a second chance." leah paused, meeting your eyes for a moment as you nodded for her to continue.

"i forgot about your graduation, i didn't care enough to remember despite all the little hints you left me that you shouldn't have even needed to. theres no nice way to say it, theres no excuses for it, no lies. i didn't prioritize you, i didn't respect you or your achievements or put your needs above my own when thats all you've ever done for me." leah sighed, fiddling nervously with her hands in her lap.

"i was so blinded by the joy of being back on the pitch, kicking a ball, being with the girls again. all i was focused on was making the roster for camp, returning back to glory and my captaincy and playing full games for arsenal again." leah admitted, neck and ears flushing hot with embarrassment.

"but nothing, not football not arsenal, not anything, should ever take priority over me being a good supportive life partner and girlfriend. you were right you have put up with so much from me, done so much for me, pushed aside your feelings and your problems to put mine first, and i couldn't even do that for a day when you've done it since the moment we got together." leah continued, shaking her head disappointed with herself.

"love there isn't enough apologies in the world that i can ever say to make up for it. obviously i am incredibly sorry, but you deserve better than words you deserve evidence and action and commitment." you were taken by surprise as leah suddenly stood.

"if you will please please please just come with me for a quick drive i have something for you." she hesitated for a moment before offering you her hand, a confused and skeptical frown on your face as you sized her up.

"its not more flowers, is it?" that caused a small smile to make its way onto the blondes face as she shook her head.

"no, no more flowers."

"seriously? leah this is all very weird." you shook your head as she pulled up outside your shared home, a place you'd not stepped foot in for just as long as you hadn't seen your girlfriend for, holding out a blindfold.

"i know i know i know. and i'm sure you don't right now which is completely valid, but i need you to just trust me and put this on." leah bit her bottom lip sheepishly as you sighed, giving her a hard look before snatching it out of her hand.

"no! i've got it." you smacked away her hand which tried to help, tying it up yourself as your heart rate sped up the moment your world was plunged into darkness.

"can i grab your hands? please?" you heard the car door open and flinched a little, nodding slowly as you felt leahs warm hands interlock with your own, pulling you up to your feet as the car door closed behind you.

"step, step, rock, puddle, another step, three more steps, gate." leah announced each reason for moving you, your frown deepening as you realised she was leading you around the side and toward the backyard, ears straining and senses heightened trying to work out what was going on.

"leah!" you huffed as you tripped and almost fell, strong hands steadying you as the blonde winced. "sorry...one more step."

"okay, i'm taking the blindfold off now." leah sighed shakily, and you felt her hands trembling slightly as they fumbled around clumsily with the knot on the back of the blindfold.

but persisting she finally got it, wincing as it slipped away and the sunlight struck you in the face. but that was nothing compared to how high you jumped at the large yell which sounded next, your hand coming to cover your mouth.

"happy graduation!"

"what? this is..." you trailed off, all of your friends and family and colleagues gathered around the backyard, fairy lights strung up in trees and a long table splitting the yard in half decked out with flowers and food and candles.

you tensed as leah grabbed your hands again, moving to stand in front of you with a smile. "i know i ruined your special day by not showing up for you. but you deserve to have your achievements celebrated in a way even half as big and special as you are, and everyone who knows you and loves you agrees, and they're here to show that to you." leah explained softly, another cheer ringing out from the crowd in your backyard as you both looked across with a laugh.

"you organised this?" you asked as leah nodded, letting go of your hands. "i'm not asking you to move back in tonight and forgive me right away. but i hope this is a step in the right direction to me showing you that you mean more to me than anything in the world, and i was such a fucking idiot to take that for granted." leah promised sincerely as your features softened.

"thank you." you caught her off guard by pulling her into a hug, admittedly melting into her taller form as you held one another tightly, your guests all turning back into their own conversations as music started up and chatter floated through the air.

"you're very very welcome. now go and be celebrated!" the blonde pulled away and gently pushed you toward the crowd, smile on her face as you nodded, turning and stepping toward your parents first who cheered and handed you a flute of champagne.

"did you know about all of this?" you tugged your cousin aside around an hour later once you'd made your rounds greeting and chatting with everyone, the sun setting as leah was busy setting up the catering she'd organised for dinner, lia by her side helping out as a fair few of the arsenal girls hung about, good friends with you through both leah and alessia.

"who do you think helped her grovel for forgiveness with the whole family?" alessia smiled knowingly, sipping at her drink. "the whole family?" you asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise as your cousin nodded.

"mhm, had me gather everyone at your mums place and she stood in front of them all delivering a speech about how much of an idiot she is and how much you mean to her, and how first and foremost she wanted to make up for ruining your day, even if it didn't mean you'd take her back." alessia explained as you glanced at leah over her shoulder, a small smile curling into your lips at the way she helped your nephew dish up his food, chattering away to him and pulling silly faces making him giggle.

"was it brutal?" you asked with a chuckle, alessia wincing. "horribly horribly awkward. nonna ripped into her, then your mum, then my mum, then your brother, then my brothers, then-" alessia recounted as you cut her off with a laugh.

"okay okay i get it, we have a very tight knit family who clearly have my back." you smiled with a shake of your head. "we do. but they all agreed to come, and that when she's not being an insensitive stupid idiot leah is crazy about you." alessia spoke a little more softly.

"go talk to her." your cousin kissed your cheek, slipping her drink into your hand and taking your empty one, pushing at your back encouragingly as you sighed and let your feet lead you over to her.

"hey, can we talk?" you asked, leah practically dropping the plate of food in her hand with a nod, hurrying after you as you made your way up the back steps and inside, wanting a little more privacy than your backyard full of friends and family provided.

"is this all okay? is it too much? did i do too much? less warned me not to go overboard and i know i said no more flowers but obviously theres flowers here and i got catering from your favorite restaurant and it took me days and days to get everyone to agree to come and then-" tired of her rambling you leaned in, pressing your lips against her own and effectively silencing her.

"i-okay." leah blinked in shock as you pulled away, a small smile of amusement on your face. "first of all, this is very very sweet leah, its perfect." you assured with a firm nod, leah visibly sagging in relief.

"second of all...i want to come home, tonight." you held up a hand as the blonde perked up and opened her mouth, snapping it right closed. "this doesn't fix everything leah, i'm still hurt and its going to take time for me to trust you properly again" you warned as the defender nodded eagerly.

"but we can't work on things unless we're together, and i have missed you." you admitted quietly, the words scary to confess but knowing you needed to be honest. "i've missed you so much, like...so so much." leah breathed out shakily making you smile.

"but promise me one thing?" your hands came to cup her face as she nodded.

"no more apology flowers leah for like...a long time." you grinned as leah let out a laugh of surprise, hands falling to your hips and drawing your body into hers, eyes searching you face as you nodded knowing what they were looking for, her lips sweetly pressing a few times against yours.

"i promise."

#woso community #woso #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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ayeforscotland · 1 year ago

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What is Dataflow?

This post is inspired by another post about the Crowd Strike IT disaster and a bunch of people being interested in what I mean by Dataflow. Dataflow is my absolute jam and I'm happy to answer as many questions as you like on it. I even put referential pictures in like I'm writing an article, what fun!

I'll probably split this into multiple parts because it'll be a huge post otherwise but here we go!

A Brief History

Our world is dependent on the flow of data. It exists in almost every aspect of our lives and has done so arguably for hundreds if not thousands of years.

At the end of the day, the flow of data is the flow of knowledge and information. Normally most of us refer to data in the context of computing technology (our phones, PCs, tablets etc) but, if we want to get historical about it, the invention of writing and the invention of the Printing Press were great leaps forward in how we increased the flow of information.

Modern Day IT exists for one reason - To support the flow of data.

Whether it's buying something at a shop, sitting staring at an excel sheet at work, or watching Netflix - All of the technology you interact with is to support the flow of data.

Understanding and managing the flow of data is as important to getting us to where we are right now as when we first learned to control and manage water to provide irrigation for early farming and settlement.

Engineering Rigor

When the majority of us turn on the tap to have a drink or take a shower, we expect water to come out. We trust that the water is clean, and we trust that our homes can receive a steady supply of water.

Most of us trust our central heating (insert boiler joke here) and the plugs/sockets in our homes to provide gas and electricity. The reason we trust all of these flows is because there's been rigorous engineering standards built up over decades and centuries.

For example, Scottish Water will understand every component part that makes up their water pipelines. Those pipes, valves, fitting etc will comply with a national, or in some cases international, standard. These companies have diagrams that clearly map all of this out, mostly because they have to legally but also because it also vital for disaster recovery and other compliance issues.

Modern IT

And this is where modern day IT has problems. I'm not saying that modern day tech is a pile of shit. We all have great phones, our PCs can play good games, but it's one thing to craft well-designed products and another thing entirely to think about they all work together.

Because that is what's happened over the past few decades of IT. Organisations have piled on the latest plug-and-play technology (Software or Hardware) and they've built up complex legacy systems that no one really knows how they all work together. They've lost track of how data flows across their organisation which makes the work of cybersecurity, disaster recovery, compliance and general business transformation teams a nightmare.

Some of these systems are entirely dependent on other systems to operate. But that dependency isn't documented. The vast majority of digital transformation projects fail because they get halfway through and realise they hadn't factored in a system that they thought was nothing but was vital to the organisation running.

And this isn't just for-profit organisations, this is the health services, this is national infrastructure, it's everyone.

There's not yet a single standard that says "This is how organisations should control, manage and govern their flows of data."

Why is that relevant to the companies that were affected by Crowd Strike? Would it have stopped it?

Maybe, maybe not. But considering the global impact, it doesn't look like many organisations were prepared for the possibility of a huge chunk of their IT infrastructure going down.

Understanding dataflows help with the preparation for events like this, so organisations can move to mitigate them, and also the recovery side when they do happen. Organisations need to understand which systems are a priority to get back operational and which can be left.

The problem I'm seeing from a lot of organisations at the moment is that they don't know which systems to recover first, and are losing money and reputation while they fight to get things back online. A lot of them are just winging it.

Conclusion of Part 1

Next time I can totally go into diagramming if any of you are interested in that.

How can any organisation actually map their dataflow and what things need to be considered to do so. It'll come across like common sense, but that's why an actual standard is so desperately needed!

#AyeforScotland #crowd strike #Dataflow

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uyuforu · 1 year ago

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Why your Birthday is your Personal New Year

All pictures were found on Pinterest

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Your Birthday's Significance

Your birthday mark the day you were born (duh), but it's more than just a day we celebrate the day you were born. It marks the day you came into this world. As we know, in Astrology, we calculate our birth chart/ natal chart based on the exact moment you were born. It will ten create a map, with planets, asteroids, placements, and houses based on a rising, and specific degrees represents the specific placements of planets the minute you came into this world, and this detail makes you very unique. In this case, your birthday isn't just a celebration, it's also your personal new year. While humanity celebrate it as a group of individual on a certain date (depending on the culture), you as an individual will celebrate it on the day you were born. You are growing one year older, with one year full of new achievements and new events coming into your life. Let's see what can help you see those!

Your Solar Return Chart

જ⁀➴ Calculate your Solar Return here.

Free Horoscopes > Horoscopes Drawings & Data > Extended Chart Selection > Chart Type: Solar Return Chart

Your Solar Return Chart (SRC) is an Astrological tool that enables you to see what will most likely happen to you during your next year. As it is said, it is your Solar Return, so your Sun's return. Based on your natal sun, on the exact degree, SRC is calculated based on when the Sun will return on the same sign with the exact same degree. You'll see in each SRC, your Sun is in the same sign and degree as your Natal Sun. Only the house will change if you have different risings in your SRC over the years.

This means that each year, on your birthday, or the day before your birthday sometimes, you'll pass through another SRC, and have a view on what will most likely happen to you. You can also use this technique to check previous SRC and understand some life events better. Checking our SRC is a way to see that every years of our life, we achieve and change, and transform, as we are meant to evolve with time.

Annual Profections

જ⁀➴ Calculate your Annual Profections here.

Annual Profections are based also on Astrology, and mostly on our ages and houses. Basically, this tool explains that depending on which age (and so birthdays) we are, we embody a certain house that year. For example, when you will turn 25, you'll embody the 2H more. It usually means you'll probably be more focus on savings, money, perhaps making more money this year, or also changing the way you manage your money, etc. Each House has a different meaning. Of course, this doesn't mean you will need to wait to be on a certain house to do something. It just means as an individual, those houses will represent your more intern focus. And it may actually go naturally, without you need to force anything. Life is most likely to put you through certain transformations based on the houses' themes.

Numerology's Personal Year

This isn't a subject I know very well, I just have some base. So if you are interested in it, I suggest checking more on Tumblr or the Internet. An account that has more knowledge is @lilithsrealm. I suggest checking their account!

Numerology is a great tool too to check on your birthday. Just as with SRC and Annual Profections, Numerology can also tell you in what phase you'll enter this "new year". You'll need to take your birth day, birth month, and the current year of your birthday, add all of those numbers together, and then get a number that will be the total of all of those, and this will be your personal year number!

Example: I was born on August 6th, so 8 / 6. And this is the year 2024. So I'll calculate 8 + 6 + 2 + 0 + 2 + 4. All together this makes 22, so it's my personal year number this year. So, specific case, but 22 is a master number, so in this case we don't really add it together again. But if you end up with any other number than 10/ 11/ 22 or 33, then you add it together. Even if mine is 22, the 4 energy will still be there, but 22 is important. I say 4 because 2+2=4 (lol).

Every year, on your birthday, your personal year number change, indicating you'll go through another cycle of your life. Each numbers mean something specific, so I suggest making more researches after finding out yours!

Destiny Matrix

જ⁀➴ Calculate your Destiny Matrix Chart here.

જ⁀➴ Destiny Matrix Romance Numbers

Destiny Matrix is an Esoteric tool that explores the 22 Arcana's of the Tarot to see a different approach of yourself and your life, as a Chart, similar to Astrology. It's a tool that also enable you to develop your full potential as an individual. Numbers and Chakras are used instead of signs, houses and degrees. Numbers on the Chart will go from 1 to 22, representing each Tarot's 22 Major Arcanas. Colored Numbers are your main energies, they are also great tools to understand your true potential and why you came into this life, but also past life, desires, and your soul's purpose. On each sides of the chart, you'll see your different ages, representing different eras of your life. And above those different ages, you'll see a number, between 1 to 22.

Different ages then represent different birthdays. And the numbers above those age represents the different energies, based on the Tarot's Major Arcanas. It will represent the energy of those specific years, and not only in a specific area, but as a whole. For example, I have 8 this year, so this can represent entering legal matters with someone, for example, a wedding, or a contract with a society. It can also mean being more mature and taking more responsible choices. It's also closing a karmic cycle, etc.

Thank you for reading!

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v1rtualsalvat10n · 8 months ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 for the first time

― luigi thinks of you in his cell. that's it that's the fic.

notes :: thank you for all the support to show my appreciation i would like to throw a rusty screwdriver into your hearts i love u guys!!

The thing they don't tell you about prison is that it's really cold.

No, seriously. It's really fucking cold, even here in NYC where it's already cold to begin with - it's like you're in the back of a deep freezer in a shitty jumpsuit, because you kind of are. It's cold enough that I have to curl up into a ball on my "bed", knees to my chest in order to try and stay warm.

And because I have nothing to do, I find myself staring at the white, emotionless wall, and doing that sort of thing is kind of a surefire way to get your mind to wander. One of the tried and true methods, if you will.

It's lonely here. Sure, the inmates like me, they're nice, but I mean... I'm not really in the mood to socialize with anyone. This whole ordeal has sucked the energy out of me. I've been being thrown around the country for days, ever since they found me.

I don't even want to think about what's happening outside of this place, either. I'm sure people have lots of thoughts and things to say about what I did.

I wonder if she saw it.

The news, I mean. Of course she saw it, who didn't? I bet her and all my old classmates and friends are probably talking about it, about me, what I'd done - right now. Trying to pick apart my motive, maybe grieving about the life I'd thrown away. Guess I had a lot ahead of me.

Can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she's disappointed in me. Or maybe proud. Why am I thinking so much about what she thinks of me? It was one fling, from ages ago, I can't even remember when... at one of countless parties, and yet I still see how she looked underneath me so clearly.

It wasn't really just a fling. I talked to her about it - about how the system was falling apart (if it was ever together to begin with) and I felt the need to put all this privilege I'd been granted to good use. How I felt like I had to do something. She told me about herself, too, how she'd been fucked over time and time again and how she knew countless others who felt the same way.

Actually, yeah, we spent a lot of time together, thinking back on it. She'd come over on those cold winter nights I remember so fondly and we'd keep warm together, whatever way we could find. She was kind of... below me, I guess. Lower class. Not that I cared that much, though. Didn't make her any less of a lover.

And then I went radio silent. Then I figured out exactly what that thing I had to do was, and I put all my effort towards it. I didn't have time for love anymore. I had to take the chance I'd been given and fix things.

So I started leaving her on seen, stopped answering my door, even when she'd yell that she knew I was there, stopped showing up at the places I'd loved before, I stopped everything. Dropped off the map and left nothing but a ghost in my place.

She probably hates me.

I'd like to think that maybe this brings her solace... that maybe the idea that "it wasn't because you did something wrong" made her feel better, but I doubt it does.

When I get out of here, if I even do, she'll probably have forgotten all about me, because everybody forgets. I'll be old news by the time that day comes, and everything we did, everything we wanted to do - would just be a hazy memory.

I still remember seeing her for the first time. I remember the way her eyes pierced through my soul, and I remember how it made me feel inside.

I wonder if she remembers that too.

#luigi mangione #deny defend depose #uhc assassin #uhc shooter #luigi mangione x reader

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shallyouobeyme · 2 years ago

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Map

Platonic!Yandere!Damian x reader (GN)

Summary: Damian and you have to work on a project together and he realizes how you seem to be invisible to everyone else - how you want to be invisible - and something in him makes him want, no need, to figure out why...

! Minors Do Not Interact !

TW: Domestic abuse (not shown directly), planned kidnapping, Dark content, yandere, This is all fiction, I do not condone this

Day 4 of my Yandere Writetober, Tomorrow word is 'Golden' so if you have any ideas lemme know

People did not think Damian was sentimental, most of all his family. If a person had an idea of who Damian was, but wasn’t close to him or hasn’t personally met him then they could probably still assume that in private he might be a bit more emotional than in public. This person would be wrong though. Sure, in private Damian might be a little more open and showed a few more emotions, but most of those were rage, pettiness and sarcasm. Damian was a lot of things, but definitely not sentimental. At least not usual. And then you came into his life.

From the moment he was born, Damian had a map of how exactly his life would be played out. Then he was brought to his family and the map changed. From wanting to become the next head of the League of Assassins, he now wanted to become the next Batman. He wanted to step up once his father needed to step down and take his rightful place as the head of the family. Alone.

Everyone and everything else that was a hindrance in that way - be it his age, school, villains, friends or even his own family - was just an obstacle on the map of his life. He thought you'd be just the same, a Problem to be taken care of and to leave behind. Just another annoying child in his class - which Bruce insisted he attend - that weren't fit for the reality of life he faced every single day. It was just typical that he had to be stuck with you working on a project for a class in which he had a grade to make up, because of too many absences. He didn't bother to question why you had to do the project, he just wanted to get it over with.

"I'll be doing the project - I doubt you could help anyways - and you can just put your name on it as well, then I don't have to bother with you," Damian sneered to you once class was disbanded, already more than done with you and with the situation. You seemed to turn into yourself and he recognized how shy and intimidated you were and if he had been just a tad more empathetic he'd feel bad. Damian rolled his eyes and turned to leave when your hand tugged on his uniform's blazer.

"Uhm... I-I'm sorry, but-but I'd really like to-to work on the project together, I-I really need this grade," you stuttered, your head lowered in shame, even though you had no real reason to be ashamed. Damian wanted to make a snide comment about how the project was definitely better off if he was doing it on his own, but something about how small and fragile you looked kept him from doing so.

That was the first detour from the life on his map. That moment of emotion that no one witnessed, not even you because of how your head was held down. And it was only the beginning. He scoffed at your request, but it wasn't truly malicious like before.

"Fine, but we'll do it at your place today after school, no discussion," Damian stated and left no room for arguments, turning around and leaving the room, not hearing your small sound of protest.

During the rest of the school day, Damian couldn't help but watch you from the corner of his eyes, he saw how you were hidden in your uniform, seemingly wanting to merge with the backdrop of the classroom, how you kept completely to yourself and seemingly managed to become completely invisible to anyone but him and some of your teachers.

So after school, he had to keep his eyes peeled open to see you come out since you really seemed to disappear between all the other students. He went over to you and told you to lead the way home, not bothering to offer to have Alfred drive the two of you since, for reasons he didn't understand himself, he wanted to spend the time with you alone. Detour number two.

The way to your home was spent in silence, Damian looking around sceptically and you turned into yourself like you always seemed to be. The route to your home took you out of the more or less safe and high-income neighbourhood of Gotham Academy to the less secure area not that different from the region around Crime Alley. He wondered how your parents were able to afford your tuition for Gotham Academy, but he knew that you were rather good in school so he figured you were on a scholarship.

When you finally arrived at a rundown apartment complex you brought him to a flat on the fifth story, carefully opening the door as if you were afraid of making any sound.

"I'm sorry if it's a bit messy," you mumbled vaguely in his direction as you carefully opened the door and Damian realized it was the first thing he had seen you say since you had asked him to let you work on the project as well. Then you lead him into the apartment and everything somewhat fell into place.

To say it was a bit messy was an understatement. There were empty bottles of beer, vodka, wine and all other kinds of alcoholic beverages, Damian even caught sight of some less legal substances, but he decided not to mention them aloud, already seeing based on the darkening colour of your face and the way you tried to avoid looking anywhere near him that you were highly ashamed and emberassed. Detour number three.

He saw how you looked through the open doors into the other - not cleaner - rooms and he could hear your relieved sigh when there was no one else in there with the two of you. Then you lead him into your room if one could call it a room, which had a size just barely big enough for a measly small bed, a box usually meant for laundry filled with your clothes and a small desk that looked like you had taken it from the side of the road. There was no chair or even a stool.

Damian noticed Jason's influence - much to his anger - when his first thought was that 'Harry Potter would feel bad for you'. His next thought was that you didn't deserve to live like that, that you deserved better. Detour number four brought him right off of the road like never before.

"Uhm... You-You can sit on the bed if that's okay, I'll-I'll sit on the floor, then we can work on the project," you spoke hesitantly and shuffled to sit on what little space was left on the floor, but was stopped when Damian pulled you to sit beside him on the bed.

"There's enough space here for both of us," he argued and turned to you. "But- uhm- we don't have any space for the project then."

You were right, he supposed, as he saw that both of you sitting on the bed were basically taking up all the mattress had to offer. He sighed and decided that he was already neck deep into whatever was happening so he might as well see where it was going.

"Then we won't do the project today," he stated in the same tone that left nothing up for discussion and you seemed almost relieved, "We can work on it tomorrow after school in the library."

"O-Okay, I'm sorry it's so-" You stopped in your tracks, seemingly on the verge of tears, and then gave it another go, "-I'm sorry you came here for nothing, I can lead you to the door."

"I'm not leaving yet," Damian said much to your surprise as he saw the shock displayed on your face, "first I want you to tell me what is going on here." He tried to tell himself that it was just his vigilante persona shining through, but deep inside he knew it was you that made him so curious about this situation.

"What do you mean?" you squeaked, obviously - but badly - trying to hide something. Damian let his instincts lead him as he quickly took your hand and pulled up your sleeve, he had been noticing how you were playing with it every time you were scared or ashamed. He wasn't all too surprised to see blue, purple, green and yellow splotches littered over the area, some bruises new, some old. You tried to pull your hand away, but Damian's grip stayed strong.

He pulled your hand even closer to him as he inspected the arm and asked: "Did your parents do that to you?" He looked up at your face and saw tears welling up in your eyes. It made you look even more fragile and delicate than he already thought you looked like throughout the day, but it also made this rage well up inside of Damian. How dare these people make you cry, how dare they hurt you. He wanted to rip them apart, wanted to make sure nothing and no one ever hurt you again.

"Tell me the truth, I will help you, I promise," Damian encouraged you and received a weak nod from you as your tears started to flow down your face in streaks. "Okay, give me a second, I'll be right back, don't worry." Damian used his blazer's sleeve to gently wipe away some of the tears - something that his family would believe to be a lie if you had told him about it - and got up to leave the room to call Alfred to come pick him and you up.

He told Alfred that he'd be inviting a friend for a sleepover, hanging up on a too-stunned-to-speak Alfred who was surely already on his way to inform Bruce of this new development, he didn't bother to tell him that he planned for it to be a more... permanent... sleepover.

You needed him, you needed him to protect you, to care for you, to make sure you never again had a reason to cry. You were such a pure, fragile soul, one that didn't deserve to be left alone in this cruel world, he was sure that once his father had met you he'd understand. He'd feel the same way. You'd be safe with them, they'd become your family, the family you deserved and needed.

And if Bruce didn't agree if Bruce told him that he was crazy, that he couldn't just take you away from your life, no matter how bad it was, and take over your entire existence... well, he had already become ready to derail his entire plan, had become ready to redraw the entire map of his life just for him to have you along, so he might as well return to his roots because he was sure his mother would be more than happy to take you in as long as it made Damian return...

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thepoetofthenight · 13 days ago

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˚⸙⋆ " How do the Hobbit characters act around you? ‧₊˚. ⸝⸝

✎... Some quick Notes:

Hello again! I really liked how this post turned out. I wrote it for about four or five days and only yesterday finished translating it into English. As always, I'll leave the original Portuguese version down below!

To be honest, I didn't write one for Thranduil because I can't write about him very well. I feel like I don't know him as well as the other characters, and I can't invent things about him as easily, so I don't feel as comfortable writing about him... I'll try to write something about him next time!

I have a short introduction in my first and last posts, so if you're interested, check it out! I hope you enjoy your reading session!

Characters:

Thorin; Bilbo; Dwalin; Fili; Kili; Bofur*; Beorn*.

* - This symbol means that of all the ones I wrote, these ended up being my personal favorites!

Word count: 1950~ words

Thorin

☆ At the beginning of the journey, Thorin barely speaks to you. He ignores your presence most of the time out of fear of something he still can't quite understand (but we all know it is the fear of developing feelings for you).

☆ However, this doesn't mean he doesn't have his moments of more sensitivity, and sometimes he ends up surprising even himself: Thorin finds himself holding your hand and helping you climb a steep hill, always putting himself between you and danger... He's somewhat overprotective and often makes you feel suffocated, which can lead to some arguments between you two, but when you ask him why he acts this way, he doesn't know what to answer, ending up responding to you with not very kind words.

☆ Even after these arguments, he always keeps an eye on you; he watches carefully the way you treat his kin, the way you thoroughly clean your sword, the way your hair caresses your forehead… He observes you so closely that even the other dwarves have noticed.

☆ But Balin had long noticed his affection for you, so he went to speak with his longtime friend. It was after a private and turbulent conversation that Thorin finally realized the feelings that had blossomed for you throughout the adventure. However, even understanding what was going on inside his heart, he refuses to believe or give in to these emotions, pushing them aside until the last possible moment (even if that moment is death itself).

Bilbo

☆ Bilbo is relatively quiet about his feelings, is not much of a flirt, but is still quite obvious about what he feels for you. He gets awkward when he talks to you, his tongue tingles and his legs feel shaky, but he hides it pretty well, remaining didactic as always.

☆ You end up doing a lot of things together, and not by mere chance, but because the Hobbit follows you whenever he can. He's like your shadow; during long journeys you walk side by side, while he asks you countless questions about yourself. This is how he ends up discovering many things about you, like your favorite food and your favorite flower. However, beyond these questions that may seem trivial but are important to him when getting to know someone, he also asks you about your culture, where you come from, and the customs of your people (bonus points if you have a map of the country, as he's fascinated by them).

☆ When you're apart, which is rare, his eyes are always focused on you. He's a natural observer, so he notices everything about you: the gentle way you pet your horse, the curious look you give to certain people, and the watchful steps you take when passing through a field of flowers. And it's from this act that verses of beautiful songs about you are born, about your features, which to him are perfect, your voice and your sensitivity that stood out among the dwarves. Sometimes you catch him singing, and when you ask him to teach you how to sing them, he gets flustered and quickly tries to change the subject.

Dwalin

☆ Dwalin acts as if he doesn't care about you, but in reality would throw himself into a pack of trolls just to try to save you. He'd do anything for you; he'd do whatever you told him to do, even if he seemed annoyed about doing so. Anxious about your lack of hand-to-hand combat experience, he offers (and by that I mean practically forces you) to learn how to fight, so you'll understand the basics of combat and defense. He says it's so you won't be a burden to the company, so others won't have to defend you when the time comes, but deep down, he's let the fear of finding you in a dangerous situation without being there to protect you get to his head.

☆ In these private lessons that usually take place at the end of the day, just a few meters from the camp, he gets carried away by his enthusiasm and ends up taking the training session very seriously. However, despite not showing any mercy, he actually takes the greatest care of you so as not to hurt you, as if you were a little flower that he had to protect.

☆ This harshness contrasts with the way he treats you at other times: on days when you're more tired than usual and refuse to participate, he sits beside you and listens attentively to everything that torments your mind, your fears and insecurities, and he stays right beside you, happy to hear anything you want to share with him. If, for some reason, you show sadness, he puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, appearing calm and serene on the outside, but at war in his own thoughts; after all, whoever or whatever made you feel this way, he'd catch them and have a good "talk" with them (let's pray it wasn't none of the dwarves).

Fili

☆ His expression changes when you're around; his eyes shine like diamonds in your presence and stay fixed on your face, ignoring everyone else around.

☆ Fili teases you from the moment he meets you, which can get a bit annoying and tiring, but I swear he does it because he really likes you.

☆ All his actions are instinctive; he doesn't consider what he might gain from it, whether he'll earn your love or a simple thank you. Fili does what he feels at the moment, helping you with everything he can and cannot, trying to make your life easier on the journey, taking over your watch when he sees you're more tired than usual, and carrying the heavy load when he notices you giving in to its weight.

☆ He stopped going on hikes and territorial scanning missions with Kili as often as he used to and started doing them with you, which irritates his brother a bit; on walks to gather fallen tree branches for the campfire, he lets his listening side dominate your conversations, preferring to learn everything he can about you.

☆ If you show interest in one of his knives that he has scattered and hidden on his body, prepare yourself to hear a long speech about them, what kind of blade they have, where he got them, and the feats he's accomplished with each of them. If you listen carefully, he'll be genuinely touched and happy; he loves sharing the things he loves with you and feels special when you do the same, as if at that moment he's the only one who matters to you.

☆ Fili's feelings for you are obvious to all the dwarves, but not so much to himself, and it takes a more serious situation, like you being in imminent danger, for him to recognize his own feelings.

Kili

☆ Just like his brother, he likes to tease you too, though he's not oblivious to his feelings. He falls in love almost instantly upon meeting you: If love at first sight is real, then this is what Kili feels for you: a burning love that dominates his chest and weakens his soul.

☆ Kili can tease you, but he does much more than just that: he flirts with you carelessly without caring about the situation you are in or who is around you. It doesn't matter if you are in the middle of a battle or alone, he will find a way to compliment you, which can be annoying, but romantic depending on your point of view.

☆ He quickly breaks down personal space barriers if you encourage him and starts touching you, first in small ways, like on your shoulder after sitting next to you, and then he gets bolder and starts putting your hair, if long, behind your ear, touching the small of your back when you are side by side, and caressing the palm of your hand. He is not afraid to show you his love, both physically and through words, and is always ready to reassure you and reaffirm the love he feels for you.

Bofur

☆ Bofur is friendly to everyone, and everyone knows it. Therefore, his actions and advances may go unnoticed. However, if you pay close attention, you'll be able to distinguish his kindness from his attraction to you.

☆ When your eyes meet, he can't help but smile; when he decides to start singing and dancing, he always takes your hand as an invitation to a good time. In the rare moments of leisure that were more common at the beginning of your journey, he loves to tell and show you part of the culture of his wandering people and plays beautiful music on his flute just for you. If you show interest, he offers to teach you how to play the instrument.

☆ He's even more generous and attentive to you than to the others (even Bilbo). He's your protective friend when in difficult times, but not in a suffocating way, letting you savor freedom on the condition of your safety.

☆ The dwarf enjoys messing with you, but mostly with the others, creating funny situations and inside jokes between you two, making it common for the rest of the company to catch you both laughing and giggling. He also likes to be by your side while traveling, so be prepared to hear him babble for hours on end, as he always finds something to say.

☆ He loves being on watch with you, and surprisingly, in contrast to his cheerful, talkative and playful daytime self, these moments are filled with the silence of the night. You both lie silently side by side, the warmth of his shoulder against your arm, watching the starry sky fill with smoke rings the dwarf makes. However, it's in these moments that he takes advantage of the absence of company to get to know you better. He asks you simple, but personal questions about you, your family, your home, and as he listens to your stories, he can't stop imagining a future where he shares a life with you and a house he can finally call home.

Beorn

☆ It may not seem like it, but to the surprise of many, he has the most gentle soul you can ask in a man and a truly good heart. At first, upon meeting you, he seems distant and suspicious, and rightfully so, after all, he'd suffered enough in his life to stop trusting strangers a long time ago. Bearing this in mind, we mustn't forget that he's not made of iron, and no matter how hard the walls around his heart may be, it's through your kindness toward what he loves that you can earn his trust and heart.

☆ Beorn finds your curiosity about the things he's interested in amusing. He appreciates it when you ask him about his swarms or if you can pet his ponies, and he loves it even more when you accompany him during his daily tasks. And it's because of your curiosity that he becomes curious himself about you and your life, where you came from, who you were, and what life you led to become who you are. He usually remains silent and watches you go about your activities, however at night, when the stars dominate the dark sky, he asks you simple questions and gazes into your bright eyes while listening to the sweet sound of your voice.

☆ The affection that grows in him for you gains overnight an immeasurable intensity. Your company warms the emptiness that has long surrounded him, and your presence is like a home for his broken soul. This affection he feels suddenly becomes concern. With what he had suffered and lost, he didn't want anything bad to happen to you, so he became more protective, standing firmly between you and danger.

Versão portuguesa (portuguese version):

Thorin

☆ No início da jornada, Thorin mal fala contigo, ignora-te a ti e a tua presença na maior parte do tempo por receio de algo que ainda não sabe bem decifrar o que é (mas todos nós sabemos que é o medo de criar sentimentos por ti).

☆ No entanto, isto não quer dizer que ele não tenha os seus momentos de maior sensibilidade, às vezes acaba por se surpreender até mesmo a ele próprio: Thorin apanha-se a dar-te a mão a ajudar-te a subir uma colina íngreme e de difícil acesso e põe-se sempre entre ti e o perigo.

☆ É um tanto superprotetor e muitas vezes faz-te sentir sufocada, o que pode criar algumas brigas entre vocês, mas quando lhe perguntas o porquê de ele agir desta forma ele não sabe responder, acabando por dizer palavras não muito afáveis. Mesmo após estas brigas está sempre de olho em ti, olha para a maneira com que tratas os seus, a maneira com que limpas a tua espada, a maneira com que o teu cabelo beija delicadamente a tua testa… observa-te tanto que até os outros anões já notaram.

☆ Mas Balin já notará á muito mais tempo a sua afeição por ti, então decidiu falar com o seu amigo de longa data. Foi depois de uma conversa a sós e em muitos momentos conturbada que Thorin finalmente percebeu os sentimentos que floriram por ti ao longo da viagem, no entanto, mesmo percebendo o que se passa dentro do seu coração, o mesmo não quer acreditar ou ceder a "meras emoções", pondo-as de lado até ao último momento possível (mesmo que esse momento seja a própria morte).

Bilbo

☆ Ele é relativamente quieto sobre o que sente, não é um grande flertante, no entanto ainda óbvio quanto aos seus sentimentos: Bilbo fica desajeitado quando fala contigo, sente a língua a formigar e as pernas bambas, no entanto disfarça bem, mantendo-se didático como sempre.

☆ Acabam por fazer muitas coisas juntos, e não por mero acaso, mas porque o Hobbit segue-te sempre que pode. Ele é como a tua sombra, durante as longas viagens andam lado a lado enquanto ele, quando lá ganha coragem para falar, faz-te imensas perguntas. É dessa forma que acaba por descobrir muitas coisas sobre ti, como a tua comida favorita e a flor que mais gostas. No entanto, para além destas questões que podem parecer banais, mas para eles são importantes para conhecer alguém, também te questiona sobre a tua cultura, de onde vens, e os costumes do teu povo (bonus points se tiveres um mapa do país, já que ele é fascinado por mapas).

☆ Quando separados, o que é raro, os seus olhos estão sempre focados em ti. Ele é um observador nato, então nota tudo um pouco sobre ti; a maneira gentil com que cuidas do teu cavalo, do olhar curioso que dás a certas pessoas e do cuidado que tens ao passar por um campo de flores primaveris... e é desse seu ato de te observar que nascem versos de canções bonitas sobre ti, sobre as tuas feições que para ele são perfeitas, a tua voz e a tua sensibilidade que se destacava entre os anões. Às vezes apanhas-o a cantar trechos dessas canções e quando pedes para ele te ensinar ele fica afobado e tenta mudar de assunto.

Dwalin

☆ Age como se não quisesse saber de ti mas atiraria-se para o meio de um monte de trolls para te salvar. Ele faria tudo por ti, tudo o que lhe mandarias fazer ele o faria, mesmo que parecendo chateado em o fazer. Ansioso pela tua falta de experiência em luta corpo a corpo, o mesmo oferece-se (e com isto digo que praticamente força-te) a te ensinar a lutar, para aprenderes o mínimo de combate e defesa. Ele diz que é para não seres um fardo para a companhia, para os outros não terem de te defender quando a hora chegar, mas no fundo deixou que o receio de te ver numa situação perigosa sem lá estar para te proteger lhe subir à cabeça.

☆ Nessas aulas privadas que normalmente acontecem no final do dia, a poucos metros do acampamento, ele deixa-se levar pelo entusiasmo e acaba por levar muito a sério o treino, no entanto, apesar de não demonstrar qualquer piedade, na verdade tem o maior cuidado para não te magoar, como se fosses uma pequena flor que tivesse de proteger.

☆ Essa sua dureza contrasta, pois, com a maneira como te trata noutros momentos: nos dias em que estás mais cansada e recusas-te a participar, ele senta-se ao teu lado e ouve atentamente tudo aquilo que atormenta a tua mente, os teus medos e inseguranças, tudo aquilo que quiseres partilhar com ele ele fica feliz em ouvir. Se por alguma razão demonstrares tristeza, ele põe uma mão no ombro para te confortar, parecendo calmo e sereno por fora, mas em guerra com os próprios pensamentos, afinal com quem ou o que te fez ficar assim ele iria apanhar e ter uma boa “conversa” com ele (vamos rezar que não tenha sido nenhum dos anões).

☆ Dwalin parece fazer de tudo um pouco por ti, pequenas coisas, como dar o seu lugar se tiveres desconfortável, e nos dias em que pareces mais cansada diz para te sentares e toma conta do teu cavalo enquanto tu descansas as tuas pernas cansadas. Essa sua dupla faceta confunde-te um pouco, mas não os anões, que o provocam constantemente quando tu não olhas.

Fili

☆ O seu semblante muda quando estás por perto: os seus olhos brilham como diamantes na tua presença e fixam-se no teu rosto, ignorando todos os outros que vos rodeiam; mete-se contigo e provoca-te desde o momento em que te conheceu, o que pode se tornar um bocado chato e cansativo, mas juro que ele fá-lo de bom grado.

☆ Todas as suas ações são instintivas, ele não pensa no que poderá ganhar com isso, se ganhará o teu amor ou um simples obrigado. Faz o que sente no momento, ajuda-te em tudo e mais alguma coisa, tentando facilitar a tua vida na viagem, substituí-te no teu turno de vigia quando te vê mais cansada e leva a carga pesada quando te vê ceder ao seu peso.

☆ Parou de ir muitas vezes fazer as caminhadas e missões de reconhecimento territorial com o Kili e passou a fazê-las contigo, o que irrita um pouco o irmão, e nas caminhadas para apanhar galhos para a fogueira ele deixa o seu lado de ouvinte dominar as vossas conversas, preferindo aproveitar o momento para aprender tudo o que pode sobre ti.

☆ Se demonstrares interesse numa das suas facas que ele tem espalhadas e escondidas no seu corpo, prepara-te para ouvires um grande discurso sobre as mesmas: que tipo de lâmina tem, onde as arranjou e os feitos que fez com elas. Se o ouvires com atenção ele fica genuinamente tocado, adora partilhar as coisas que gosta contigo e sente-se especial quando o fazes, como se fosse o único que te importasse.

☆ Os seus sentimentos por ti são óbvios para todos os anões, mas nem tanto para ele próprio, sendo preciso acontecer uma situação mais séria como tu estares em perigo eminente para reconhecer o amor que nasceram por ti.

Kili

☆ Tal como o irmão, gosta de se meter contigo e te provocar, no entanto não é alheio aos seus sentimentos. Ele apaixona-se quase que instantaneamente após te conhecer: se amor à primeira vista é real, então é isto que Kili sente por ti, um amor ardente que lhe domina o peito e lhe enfraquece a alma.

☆ Ele pode-te provocar, mas faz muito mais que isso, flerta contigo desleixadamente sem querer saber da situação em que se encontram ou quem vos rodeia, não interessa se estão no meio de uma batalha ou sozinhos, ele vai arranjar maneira de te elogiar e tentar engatar, o que pode ser chato, mas romântico, dependendo do teu ponto de vista.

☆ Ele quebra rapidamente, se lhe deres trela, barreiras sobre o teu espaço pessoal e começa a te tocar, primeiro em pequenas maneiras, como no ombro após se sentar ao teu lado, e depois fica mais ousado e começa a pôr o teu cabelo, se longo, atrás da tua orelha, a mexer no final das tuas costas quando estão lado a lado e a acariciar a palma da tua mão. Ele não tem medo de demonstrar o seu amor, tanto fisicamente quer por palavras, está sempre pronto a te tranquilizar e reafirmar o amor que sente por ti.

Bofur

☆ O Bofur é simpático com todos e isso todos sabem, por isso as suas ações e avanços podem passar despercebidos, no entanto, se prestares bem atenção, conseguirás distinguir a sua amabilidade da sua atração.

☆ Quando os vossos olhares se encontram ele não consegue conter o sorriso; quando lá decide começar a cantar e dançar pega sempre na tua mão como um convite para um bom momento; nos momentos escassos de lazer que eram mais comuns no começo da jornada, adora mostrar-te parte da cultura do seu povo errante e toca belas músicas com a sua flauta. Se te mostrares interessada ele oferece-se para te ensinar a tocar o instrumento.

☆ Ele é ainda mais generoso e atencioso contigo do que com os outros, é o teu amigo protetor nos tempos difíceis, no entanto não numa maneira sufocante, fazendo-te saborear a liberdade pela condição da tua segurança.

☆ Gosta de se meter contigo e com os outros, acabando por criar situações engraçadas e piadas internas, sendo comum o resto da companhia vos apanhar entre risos e gargalhadas, e também de ir ao teu lado na jornada, então prepara-te para o ouvires matutar já que ele arranja sempre o que dizer.

☆ Adora ficar de vigia contigo, e surpreendentemente, contrastando com a sua personalidade diurna (alegre, falador e brincalhão), estes momentos são preenchidos pelo silêncio da noite, ficando ambos calados lado a lado, com o leve calor do toque do seu ombros encostados no teu braço, a ver o céu estrelado ser preenchido por anéis de fumo que o anão faz.

☆ Contudo, é nesses momentos a sós que ele também aproveita a ausência da companhia para te conhecer melhor. Faz-te perguntas pessoais, sobre ti, a tua família, a tua casa, e ao ouvir as tuas histórias não consegue parar de imaginar um futuro em que partilha uma vida contigo e uma casa que finalmente poderia chamar de lar.

Beorn

☆ Pode não parecer, mas para surpresa de muitos ele tem uma alma gentil e um coração realmente bom. No início, ao te conhecer, parece-te distante e desconfiado, e com razão, afinal a sua vida não era um sonho bonito e já sofrera o bastante na vida para parar de confiar em estranhos há muito tempo. Tendo isto em conta, não podemos esquecer que ele não é de ferro, e por muito duras que sejam as paredes em torno do seu coração, é com a tua gentileza para com aquilo que ele ama, a natureza, que consegues ganhar a sua confiança.

☆ Para ele, a tua curiosidade pelas coisas que ele gosta é fascinante, adora quando lhe perguntas pelos seus enxames ou se podes afagar nos seus pôneis, e gosta ainda mais quando o acompanhas a fazer as suas tarefas diárias. E pela tua curiosidade torna-se ele mesmo curioso, por ti e pela tua vida, afinal de onde vinhas, quem eras tu e que vida levaste para te tornares quem és hoje. Normalmente mantém-se calado e observa-te a fazer as tuas tarefas diárias, no entanto, à noite, quando as estrelas dominavam o preto céu, ele gosta de te fazer perguntas simples e diretas e fica a olhar para os teus olhos brilhantes enquanto ouve o som doce da tua voz.

☆ Esse carinho que cresce nele ganha, do dia para a noite, uma intensidade imensurável, a tua companhia aquece o vazio que há muito o rodeava e a tua presença era como um lar para a sua alma quebrada. Esse carinho que sente torna-se preocupação. Com aquilo que ele sofrera e perdera, não queria que nada de mal te acontecesse, então fica mais protetor, firme entre ti e o perigo.

I also wrote about the Lord of the Rings characters, but I don't know if I'll ever post it because I didn't really like how it turned out. Like Thranduil, I have a hard time writing about these characters and I really don't know why. I seem to be more familiar with The Hobbit, but I actually grew up watching The Lord of the Rings, so I don't know why it's so hard for me to write about them.

I'm currently writing "What Kind of Drunk Are They?". I don't know when I'll finish it since I take my time writing, but if I have more drafts of other headcanons that I haven't published yet, I'll post them. See you then! <3

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epiphanytofu · 2 months ago

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Fankids are still a thing, right? Whatever, go my scarab. Introducing my two fankids for an incredibly RARE rarepair that I've been keeping hidden for over 2 months now, Jangle and Chime. Twins who are complete opposites, but stick together as if they were glued to the hip.

Jangle is the more eccentric, hyperactive, silly, and chaotic half of the duo, always up and about, everywhere at once and speeding around like his life depends on it. There's rarely a moment where this one isn't doing something fun or getting into mischief as he makes it a point to search for the next adventure, regardless of the time or place. He has a love for performing, talented in many forms of entertainment and will gladly put on a show when asked to. Despite his childish nature, he is intelligent in his own ways, showing a deep interest in literature, philosophy, and morals, despite his young age. Furthermore, he has quite the eye for spotting lies and truths and he's not afraid to shout out what he sees. Funny enough, he is not a very good liar himself; he's quite blunt, but never wishes ill on anyone... unless they insult or upset his family. Perhaps Jangle takes his role as a jester very, VERY seriously. Chime is the quiet, emotional, timid, and insecure half of the duo, always preferring to stand back and let others take the spotlight and attention. Whereas Jangle is always found running about, never sticking to one spot, Chime would rather stay in her comfort zone, keeping to herself in a limited number of areas to minimize the amount of social interaction as much as possible. She finds more comfort in solitude and quiet, always becoming distressed if too much noise is made, too many people are present... or there's a minor inconvenience that just happened. It's very easy to upset her. Much like her brother, she is quite smart for her age, except her specialty lies with mathematics and anything involving numbers, which allows her to excel with machines, mechanics, and tinkering. She tends to do so often, finding it to be a special interest of sorts. Though, it's not all she does; Chime DOES have a particular interest in music as well. Perhaps one day she can finally make music that's just as pretty as her brother's. Moving onto some gameplay aspects; there is the topic of both twin's abilities, starting with Jangle's.

As it can be read here, Jangle's ability can stun Twisteds using the jester doll named Jack in his head, who has a separate conscious. His active is different from other toons' abilities, as instead of an instantaneous use, the ability can be charged up, which causes Jangle to start winding up to get ready to use his ability, which requires the ability button to be held down long enough. Thankfully, in moments of danger, he gradually speeds up the longer the icon is held. This can be particularly useful for distracting or escaping; You can release the button at any time before the ability goes off to save it.

For Chime, hers is also different from some toons' passive abilities. Using Bobette as an example, Bobette has a specific radius around her that toons can enter for stamina regeneration. However, with Chime, she doesn't have a radius. Instead, it relies solely on how areas of a map are divided into parts for her ability. Once she enters a room or a large area that counts as one space altogether, all toons within that area receive her extraction boost. though once she leaves, it will instantly wear off. She'd be useful when several machines are in the same area, offering support to all who extract on the nearby machines. Lastly, here are their trinkets!

I have. A LOT MORE. To talk about with them, since they're decently developed. But this post is already a smidge long as is and I'm tired, so I'll probably save it for another time. In the meantime, take these doodles of them as filler. (And you get to see the concepts for their Twisteds.) [ Edit: Btw if you got any questions, feel free to ask. I forgot to mention that originally, I was too tired. ]

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ct7567329 · 2 months ago

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What Comes After ~ Kix x F!Jedi Reader

Summary: Trapped together during a dangerous mission, you and Kix navigate both a tunnel on Utapau and the feelings you’ve hidden for too long.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: Canon-typical violence (it's mostly fluff today!)

A/N: i loved seeing all the love for Kix in my latest poll! writing this actually put me in my Kix feels again. he's literally so precious and would absolutely be a perfect husband. if this does well enough (or enough people ask) i'll absolutely make a part 2 bc i'm simping hard for this man rn. anyways, I digress, enjoy 🫶

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The hangar bay of the Resolute thrummed with life. The cold, metallic air shimmered under the brilliant lights that bounced off durasteel hulls and rows of meticulously stacked crates. Shinies in crisp white armor moved like clockwork, securing gear, checking supplies, and loading equipment into waiting gunships. The familiar scent of lubricants, ozone, and the faint undercurrent of blaster residue clung to every surface, a constant reminder of the war’s omnipresence.

Kix stood among them, his helmet tucked beneath one arm, though his gaze was far from the tactical maps flickering in blue holo-light in front of him. His body was present, lined up alongside his brothers in the 501st, listening, or at least pretending to, while Captain Rex outlined their next mission with his usual calm precision. But his mind, stubborn and reckless, was elsewhere.

It was on you.

You stood a few meters away, your Jedi robes catching the faint breeze stirred by the gunships’ idle repulsorlifts. The glow of the holo-map lit your face in soft blue, accentuating the sharp focus in your eyes as you absorbed the briefing’s details. The way you tilted your head, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of your lightsaber, was a picture burned into Kix’s memory.

He should have been listening. Rex’s words were clear: infiltration of Utapau’s sinkhole systems, suspected Separatist droid operations, possible environmental hazards. But all Kix could hear was the steady, traitorous thrum of his heartbeat in his ears, the slight tightening in his chest whenever you so much as shifted your weight or brushed a flyaway strand of hair from your face.

He began to wonder when his infatuation with you started. Kix didn’t know exactly. Maybe it was that day on Kamino when you first arrived to join the 501st, presenting an unfamiliar face in the midst of sterile white corridors and the hum of rain on the domes. He’d noticed you then, not just because you were new, but because of how you carried yourself. Jedi often walked with detachment, a weight of the galaxy’s burdens on their shoulders, but you met the clones’ eyes. You spoke with them, not at them. You asked for names, not ranks.

Or maybe it was that deployment on Felucia. He remembered watching you work in the medbay after a mission, your sleeves rolled up, fingers steady as you healed a trooper’s shattered arm. You’d been exhausted, the stress lines faint at the corners of your mouth, but you’d still let out a tired and small, but genuine smile. And when Kix had offered to finish suturing the wound for you, your hands had brushed his, warm and grounding. He’d felt the spark then, quick and fleeting like the crackle of a deflector shield.

But it hadn’t faded. If anything, it had deepened into something more dangerous.

He caught himself staring again and quickly looked away, focusing instead on the lines of the hangar floor and the scuffed boots of Fives beside him.

“Hey, Kix,” came a voice at his side. Jesse’s tone was low, teasing, but not unkind, “You with us, or have you drifted off into love-struck oblivion?”

Kix scowled faintly but didn’t respond immediately. Jesse nudged him with an elbow.

Hardcase leaned in from the other side, his grin wide beneath his helmet, “C’mon, we’ve all seen the way you look at her. You’ve got it bad.”

“I do not,” Kix said, a touch more sharply than he intended, his cheeks warming beneath the cool metal of his helmet.

Fives, ever the opportunist, smirked, “What’s the matter, Kix? Scared she’s going to read your mind? Jedi can do that, you know.”

“I’m not—” Kix started, but Jesse cut him off, his grin widening.

“Relax, we’re just giving it to you. But if you faint during the mission because you’re too busy staring, we’ll have to carry you out.”

The others chuckled, and even Rex, though maintaining his composed expression, allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch in amusement.

Kix exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head, but he couldn’t fully suppress the smile threatening at the edges of his lips. His brothers meant well, and their ribbing, though embarrassing, felt like a grounding force amid the swirl of emotions he tried so hard to keep locked down.

The briefing concluded, and the troopers began to break formation, heading toward the waiting gunships. Kix adjusted the strap of his medpack across his chest, mentally reviewing the contents: bacta patches, field sealant, stim injectors, painkillers. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to realize he was standing still amidst the scattering of troops around him.

You approached him, your stride sure and light, your expression softening as you drew near, “Kix,” you said, your voice quiet but firm “Are you ready?”

His throat tightened briefly, and he had to clear it before answering, “Yes, General. I’m ready.”

Your eyes met his, trying to ground him, but keeping a faint glimmer of something he couldn’t quite name, “Good. Stay close during the descent. I might need you.”

“I’ll be right there then."

As you turned to join the other Jedi boarding the gunships, Kix felt a pang of something sharp and tender twist beneath his ribs. He watched you for a moment longer before pulling his helmet into place. The world narrowed to the faint hiss of the seal locking and the muted sounds of the hangar outside.

Inside the gunship, he settled onto one of the benches beside Jesse and Hardcase, the others filling in around them. The rumble of the engines vibrated up through his boots, a low, comforting growl. The doors sealed shut, and the hangar fell away beneath them as the gunships lifted into the upper atmosphere.

The others continued their light banter, but Kix’s thoughts were elsewhere. He stared at the floor of the gunship, the scuffed metal, the faint traces of carbon scoring from past engagements. His pulse quickened as he replayed your brief exchange in his mind, dissecting every nuance of your expression, the subtle tilt of your lips, the glimmer in your eyes.

Naturally, he wanted to kick himself for being like this and not being able to push the feelings aside, like he was supposed to. Jedi were meant to be unattainable, distant. Attachments were forbidden. For you, love could mean danger, vulnerability, a risk to everything you fought for. But still, he felt the pull of something deeper, the ache of wanting more than friendship, more than duty.

Kix’s fingers curled slightly against the edge of his medkit. He couldn’t afford distractions. Not here, not now. The mission came first. His brothers depended on him to keep them alive, to mend their wounds and hold the line.

Yet his thoughts turned stubborn, reckless, insistent. Maybe it was foolish. Maybe it was dangerous. But if this mission went sideways, if something happened and you were hurt, Kix knew with a grim certainty that he’d move the stars to protect you.

Utapau’s surface stretched out beneath them as the gunships banked into descent. The world’s vast sinkholes yawned open like gaping mouths, their depths shadowed and secretive. From the upper atmosphere, the craggy edges of the sinkholes seemed almost delicate, like fragile lacework carved into the planet’s crust. But Kix knew those caverns were deep and treacherous, filled with unseen dangers and potential collapse points.

As the gunship shuddered slightly, dropping altitude, he glanced at you across the compartment. You sat with Anakin and Ahsoka, head bowed in concentration, perhaps meditating or simply preparing yourself for the challenge ahead.

In that moment, as the gunship’s engines roared and the ground loomed closer, Kix let himself feel the weight of his heart in his chest, the unspoken promise he’d made to himself. Whatever awaited them at the surface, he wouldn’t let you face it alone.

The gunship rocked violently as it descended into the sinkhole. Dust and grit battered against the viewports, painting streaks of dirt and shadow across the armored glass. Below them, Utapau’s craters swallowed the gunships whole, the sun’s light fading to a thin, dusty glow as they dropped deeper into the sinkhole’s throat.

Kix tightened his grip on the bench’s handholds, the vibration of the repulsorlifts rattling up through his armor. The hangar’s bright lights were gone now, replaced by the oppressive darkness of Utapau’s cavernous depths. The air grew heavier, the temperature cooler, the walls of the sinkhole rising like jagged teeth around them.

Beside him, Jesse murmured, “Lovely place for a picnic, huh?”

Hardcase snorted, but Kix barely heard them. His eyes, though obscured by his visor, were fixed on you as you rose from your seat to glance toward the cockpit. You leaned slightly forward, bracing yourself against the wall, the faint light catching in your hair.

The gunship bucked as it banked hard to the right. The pilot’s voice crackled through the comms, "Approaching LZ. Separatist contacts on the outer rim of the sinkhole. Prepare for insertion.”

Kix felt his pulse quicken. He shifted his weight, checking his medkit with a practiced motion, double-checking the placement of the emergency bacta and ensuring his field injectors were secure. His armor felt heavier here, the close walls of the sinkhole pressing in around them, but he welcomed the weight.

The gunship’s side doors hissed open as the repulsorlifts strained to hold them steady against the swirling dust and debris. Below, the landing zone, a narrow ledge near the mouth of a cavern waited, but already, Kix could see flashes of blue and red as blaster fire crisscrossed the air.

“Go, go, go!” Rex’s voice cut through the noise. The troopers surged forward, dropping from the gunship’s skids with practiced efficiency. Kix was among them, landing in a crouch and immediately scanning the surroundings.

The air was thick with dust, the tang of electric from blaster bolts, and the distant rumble of shifting rock. The enemy wasn’t concentrated but instead was scattered pockets of droids taking potshots from behind boulders and natural outcroppings. But the terrain was treacherous and narrow ledge was uneven, riddled with fissures and loose stone.

You landed nearby, your lightsaber igniting with a snap-hiss of brilliant blue. The blade’s glow cast flickering shadows on the cavern walls as you deflected incoming fire, your movements swift and precise. Kix felt a sharp jolt of admiration, and perhaps something more, as he saw you turn, briefly, to ensure the clones were advancing safely.

The battle was quick but brutal. The Separatist droids, clearly not expecting such a coordinated assault, began to retreat deeper into the caves. Rex signaled for the squad to pursue.

“That way,” you called, gesturing toward the droids’ path. Your voice was clear, calm amidst the chaos, “They’re falling back into the caverns. We need to cut them off before they regroup.”

Kix hesitated for only a moment, then fell in step behind you as the squad moved forward. The ledge narrowed further, forcing them into single file, the cavern mouth looming ahead like the throat of some vast beast.

The ground beneath them trembled. At first, it was faint, barely more than a whisper of vibration beneath your feet. But then it deepened into a low, ominous rumble. Small stones began to clatter down the walls, bouncing and skittering across the ledge.

“Look out!” you shouted, turning sharply, your eyes wide with alarm.

A deafening crack split the air as the wall above them gave way. A cascade of rock and debris came crashing down, a landslide triggered by blaster fire or the unstable terrain. Dust billowed upward, blinding and choking.

“Take cover!” Rex’s voice rang out, but it was too late.

Kix’s instincts took over. He lunged toward you, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward a narrow fissure at the cave’s entrance. Together, you stumbled inside just as the landslide surged past, a wall of dust and debris sealing the entrance behind you.

The world narrowed to the space of the cave, the sudden silence broken only by the sound of falling dust and your ragged breaths. Kix coughed, waving a hand to clear the air, though the fine grit coated your armor, skin, hair, everything.

You were on your knees beside him, lightsaber extinguished but still in hand, your shoulders rising and falling as you caught your breath.

“Kix are you alright?” you asked, your voice rough from the dust.

He nodded, though his chest felt tight, “I’m fine. You?”

You gave a faint, breathless laugh, “I’ve been better. But I’m alright.”

Together, you turned to face the collapsed entrance. The pile of rock and debris was massive, a tangle of jagged stone and packed earth. Even a lightsaber would struggle to carve through it without risking further collapse.

You pressed a hand against the rubble, closing your eyes briefly. Kix watched as you reached out with the Force, trying to sense the stability of the remaining structure. The effort made your brow furrow, sweat beading along your temple.

“It’s too unstable,” you said softly, “If I try to clear it, it could bring the whole cavern down.”

Kix’s jaw tightened, “Then we’ll find another way out.”

You glanced at him, a flicker of gratitude in your gaze, “I'm pretty sure that's our only option.”

He nodded, his voice firm despite the tightness in his throat, "We'll figure this out, General."

You offered him a faint smile, playing with the use of titles, "We always do, Medic.”

As you rose to your feet, brushing dust from your robes, Kix felt the knot of tension in his chest ease slightly. Even trapped in a collapsing cave, with danger pressing in from all sides, your presence steadied him.

He swallowed hard, turning his gaze deeper into the cavern’s shadowed depths. The light from the entrance was faint now, a soft glow filtering through cracks in the rubble. Ahead, the tunnel sloped upward, the walls narrowing and twisting out of sight.

Kix adjusted his medpack, his hand brushing against the worn strap. The weight of it was a familiar comfort, but it also served as a grim reminder of the situation. They were cut off from the rest of the squad.

The thought made his gut twist. He’d faced danger before, through ambushes, explosions, blaster fire, but the idea of you, alone and vulnerable, struck a chord of fear he couldn’t shake.

“Let’s move,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the weight of the situation.

Kix nodded, falling into step beside you as you began to navigate the winding tunnel. The air grew cooler, the walls damp with condensation. Each footstep echoed softly, a reminder of the vast emptiness around them.

As they pressed deeper into the shadows, Kix felt a gnawing worry settle beneath his ribs. He wasn’t just concerned for your safety, though that alone was enough to make his hands tremble. It was more than that. It was the growing realization that he couldn’t imagine leaving this cave without you.

And in that moment, amidst the dust and silence and shifting shadows, Kix understood the depth of his feelings.

He was in love with you.

Kix’s steps echoed softly on the uneven floor as he followed you deeper into the darkness. Behind him, the sealed entrance was a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional hiss of shifting debris settling into place.

The only light came from the faint glow of your lightsaber as you ignited it, casting a gentle blue hue along the cave walls. It illuminated streaks of crystalline minerals and the occasional trickle of water seeping from cracks in the rock.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The narrow tunnel twisted and turned, descending deeper beneath the surface. Kix focused on each careful step, noting the way your shoulders were set with determined tension. You were trying to stay calm, to assess the situation, but he could see the fine tremor in your hand as it gripped the hilt of your saber.

He cleared his throat quietly, breaking the heavy silence, “You’re holding up better than most would,” he muttered, his voice low but warm, "you seem exhausted."

You glanced back at him, the blue light glinting in your eyes, "So are you, Kix. For both."

He gave a soft snort, more out of habit than humor, “I’m used to patching people up, not getting trapped in caves. But I guess it’s good to keep me on my toes.”

A flicker of a smile touched your lips, a small but genuine response to his attempt at levity. The sight made his pulse quicken, a tight ache settling in his chest.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you for months now. Ever since that mission on Christophsis when you’d saved his life with a sudden, precise strike of your saber, cutting down a droid that had nearly shot him point-blank. He’d been shaken, grateful, but it was the calm, focused, protective look in your eyes that had stayed with him. After that, it was as if every moment spent with you was magnified. The way you tilted your head when you listened. The quiet, steady authority you carried in briefings. The rare moments when your smile broke through the mask of command and revealed something softer, something just for them.

But he wasn’t oblivious. A Jedi and a clone weren’t supposed to have that connection. Yet here in the shadows of a collapsing cave, the rules felt very far away.

As the tunnel widened slightly, you paused to scan the area. Kix watched the way your shoulders rose and fell with each breath, the soft sound of the lightsaber humming at your side. His heart ached with something sharp and unwelcome as he knowledge that if this cave became your tomb, he’d never get the chance to tell you how he fells.

“How deep do you think we are?” he asked, his voice soft but edged with a tremor he couldn’t quite suppress.

You turned, considering, “Hard to say. Utapau’s sinkholes run deep, and these caves are likely natural extensions. We’re probably under several hundred meters of rock by now.”

“Lovely,” he muttered.

You gave a small, tired laugh, “We’ll find a way out, Kix.”

“I know,” he said, though a shiver crept up his spine. His body was already aching from the weight of his armor, the strain of the mission, and now the added tension of uncertainty. But he pushed it aside. You were here and alive. That was what mattered to him.

A faint rumble echoed through the rock, and both of you instinctively crouched, scanning for signs of another collapse. But the tremor passed, leaving only silence.

You straightened, exhaling slowly, “Let’s keep moving. We need to find a passage that leads upward.”

Kix nodded, though his legs were beginning to protest. They continued forward, the tunnel sloping downward before finally leveling out into a wider chamber. The ceiling arched above them, glittering with mineral deposits that caught your lightsaber’s light like scattered stars. For a brief moment, it was almost beautiful.

Kix found himself staring at the light on the stone, the soft reflection in your eyes as you turned to scan the chamber. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words tangled in his throat. Instead, he stepped forward, his foot brushing against a loose rock.

The sudden shift sent a sharp pain lancing up his leg. He gasped, stumbling as his knee buckled beneath him.

“Kix!” you turned sharply, the saber flickering dangerously as you caught him before he could fall completely.

“I’m fine—” he started, but the pain worsened, a sharp, twisting agony that made his vision blur. He sank to his knees, clutching at his side where the armor plates had shifted.

You crouched beside him, urgency in your voice, "Where does it hurt?”

“Left side and lower back. Feels like something’s torn,” he ground out, his breathing shallow.

Your hands moved quickly, fingers tracing along the edges of his armor with practiced ease, “You might have a fracture or internal bleeding,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him, “I need to check.”

Kix gritted his teeth, “Don’t overextend yourself. You’ve already used Force to keep the landslide out of the cave. I don't want to drain you too much.”

Your hand stilled briefly on his arm, “Kix,” you said softly, and he heard the unspoken plea in your voice.

He forced a strained smile, “I’ll be fine. Just a little banged up. Not the first time.”

You gave him a look that silenced his protests. Slowly, carefully, you began to remove the plates of his armor, your fingers deftly releasing the catches. When you peeled up the lower hem of his upper blacks both of you winced. The skin beneath was bruised, swelling rapidly with discoloration spreading across toward his hip.

“Looks like a deep muscle tear or a bleed," you said quietly. “And I’m guessing you hit your back pretty hard, too.”

Kix felt lightheaded, his breathing shallow. The pain was intensifying, a deep, pulsing ache that made it hard to focus, “I’ll manage."

But you were already preparing yourself. He saw the way you closed your eyes, steadying your breath, gathering the Force around you. The faint glow of your saber dimmed as you focused, the air around you charged with energy.

Kix’s eyes widened, “No. You’re exhausted already. If you—”

“I’m not letting you die here, Kix,” you cut him off firmly, your voice a low whisper that sent a shiver through him.

The words struck him harder than any injury. He opened his mouth to protest and argue, but the glow of your hands as you pressed them gently to his side silenced him. The warmth of the Force flowed into him, a gentle, golden pulse of energy that soothed the tearing agony and slowed the bleeding.

His vision blurred, not from pain this time, but from a wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. You were risking yourself for him, pouring every ounce of strength you had left into holding him together.

The pain dulled, and he felt his breathing steady, but as the glow around your hands faded, your shoulders slumped, and you sagged against him.

“No, no, General,” Kix’s voice broke as he caught you, his hands cradling your head as you slipped into unconsciousness, “oh come on. Stay awake, please."

The cave around them was silent except for his ragged breaths and the soft echo of his whispered pleas. Its walls loomed close like silent witnesses. The air was heavy with the faint tang of minerals and dust, broken only by the shallow echo of Kix’s ragged breathing and the soft rustle of your robes against the stone floor.

Your head lolled against his shoulder, your skin cool beneath his gloved hand. Kix's pulse hammered in his throat as he cradled you, his hands trembling slightly not from the terror of seeing you collapse like that.

"Please, General," he whispered, his voice frayed and raw, "Don’t leave me here. Please."

His fingers brushed your temple, tracing the curve of your cheek as if by sheer will he could anchor you to him, keep you tethered to this fragile moment. Your eyelids fluttered, lashes casting faint shadows, and his heart caught painfully.

Then, you let in a soft inhale, shallow but steady. Relief flooded him, so sharp it made his vision blur.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice cracking on the word. "You’re okay. You’re still here."

You stirred faintly, your weight shifting against him. Your voice was barely a whisper, "Kix?"

"Right here," he said, tightening his hold as if he could shield you from the cold, the fear, the crushing weight of rock above them, "You’re good. I’ve got you."

Your brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing your face as you tried to sit up. But he was already guiding you back down, his hands steady but gentle.

"Don’t move too fast," he said softly, "You passed out after healing me."

Realization dawned in your eyes, along with a flicker of guilt, "Oh, Kix. I'm so sorry. I-"

"I know," he interrupted, his voice rough with emotion, "But you scared me half to death."

Your lips quirked faintly, the shadow of a smile ghosting across them, "That’s not an easy thing to do."

Kix let out a shaky breath, a sound that was almost a laugh but caught somewhere between relief and exhaustion. He brushed a thumb lightly along your cheek, the touch intimate in a way neither of you had dared before. "You didn't have to do that," he whispered. "You gave everything you had left."

"But for you though," you murmured, the words so soft they might have been a thought.

He closed his eyes briefly, the weight of those words settling deep in his chest. When he opened them, he saw you watching him, your gaze tired but steady.

"How’s your side?" you asked, your voice still faint.

"Never better," he replied, though the truth was more complicated. The pain was a dull throb now, numbed by your Force healing, but he could faintly feel lingering pinches. Still, he wasn’t about to tell you that.

"Good. Then let's get out of here."

Kix hesitated, then gently shifted you into a more comfortable position, resting your head on his lap. He leaned back against the cave wall, careful of the instability of the soil, and cradled you close.

"We will," he agreed quietly, though in truth, he wasn’t sure how. The cave was vast and treacherous, but in that moment, with your heartbeat steady against his, the crushing weight of fear eased. "Eventually," he continued, "let's just take a minute."

You hummed in agreement and let your eyelids close. There was something too comfortable about resting your head on Kix's lap that you couldn't resist his offer to relax for a moment.

Time passed in silence, broken only by the faint dripping of water and the soft rhythm of your breathing. Kix listened to it like a lifeline, grounding himself in the simple reality of your presence.

After a while, you stirred again, sensing his gaze was locked onto you. "You’re hovering, Kix," your voice was soft but tinged with a hint of humor.

His lips twitched, "I can’t help it. Occupational hazard."

You cracked one eye open, meeting his before you lifted your head up, resting your hand on the cave walls to help you stand up, "More like boyfriend hazard." The words slipped from your lips in a murmur, half-drowsy and teasing, but they hit him like a blaster bolt.

His breath caught, his pulse stumbling as he stared down at you, stunned into stillness.

Boyfriend hazard.

You said it like a joke, your voice light, your lips curving faintly in a tired smile. But Kix’s mind reeled, the weight of that single word sinking in. It wasn’t the playful tone you’d used, or even the way your smile softened the edges of the moment. It was the truth beneath the jest. The quiet acknowledgment of something fragile and unspoken blooming between you. Before you could get on your feet, he grabbed your wrist and tugged slightly. Acknowledging his silent wishes, you sat down next to him, legs crossed.

He swallowed hard, his throat tightening painfully. Slowly, his hand brushed your hair back from your face, his fingertips tracing the line of your jaw, down to your neck where your pulse fluttered faintly beneath his touch.

"Is that what I am to you?" he asked, his voice low and almost trembling, not from fear but from the overwhelming tenderness blooming inside him.

You blinked up at him, the teasing glint in your eyes fading into something softer, more open, "Well that would surely complicate things." You watched his smile fall before you continued, "but I'm not necessarily one to take the easy path."

The corner of his mouth curved, not quite a smile, more a raw, vulnerable thing. He leaned down slightly, his forehead brushing yours as he exhaled a shuddering breath.

"You’ve been in my head since Kamino," he whispered, his voice a confession, "I thought it was just a silly crush. But then you kept showing up. In the medbay, in the field, everywhere. And I realized I was looking for you. Every damn day."

Your breath caught, your lips parting as though to respond, but he pressed a gentle finger to them.

"And I’m not saying this because we’re trapped in here," he said quietly, his voice firm despite the tenderness, "I’m saying it because it’s been building for a long time. And I can’t pretend its not there anymore."

You shifted slightly, wincing as you moved to sit up, your forehead still close to his, "I don't like pretending either," you whispered.

His lips twitched faintly, his other hand coming up to cradle your cheek, "Then I'm an idiot for waiting this long."

You let out a soft laugh, the sound mingling with his. The weight of exhaustion and fear lingered at the edges of the moment, but here, in this quiet, hidden place beneath the surface of a war-torn world, it was just you and Kix. No ranks, no orders, no looming battles. Just a man and a woman, leaning into each other because it was all they had.

Kix’s thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, tracing the curve of your smile. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat that stretched between you. But instead of closing the distance, he simply rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the hush of the cavern.

"We’re getting out of here," he said softly. "Not because we have to, but because we want to. But because there’s more than just survival waiting for us outside."

You nodded faintly, your eyes fluttering closed, your breath hitching slightly as you leaned into him.

For a while, neither of you spoke. His arms remained around you, steady and warm, his pulse a reassuring thrum against yours. You drifted, not quite asleep, but caught in that quiet space between wakefulness and dreams, wrapped in the safety of his embrace.

Kix’s fingers traced idle patterns along your back, his mind quiet for the first time in what felt like days. And though the cave around you was dark and still, in that small bubble of warmth and whispered promises, it felt almost like home.

For a long while, neither of you moved. Kix’s arms felt like a shelter while his breath pushed softly against your hair. The moment of confessions and half-spoken truths, lingered like a quiet echo in the stillness of the cave.

But eventually, the reality of your situation pressed in. The faint tremor of cold in your limbs was begging for you to move. You stirred first, a reluctant shift that made Kix’s arm tighten briefly around you before he reluctantly let you go.

“We should keep moving,” you suggested, forcing back a yawn.

Kix nodded, though he didn’t seem particularly eager to let you go. He pressed a gentle, soft, almost absent-minded kiss to the top of your head before drawing back and groaning as he got up.

“Yeah,” he agreed, "We should.”

You rose, stiff and aching, but determined. Kix retrieved his scattered armor and, with your help, strapped it back on as best as you could.

Once ready, the two of you began moving again, deeper into the labyrinth of rock and shadow. The air was cool and damp, heavy with the faint scent of moss and mineral-rich water. You used your lightsaber again to light the path ahead, a faint blue glow casting long shadows against the walls. For a while, the silence was companionable, the rhythm of your footsteps echoing softly off the walls.

But then Kix’s voice broke the quiet, tentative but steady, “When did you know?” he asked, glancing sideways at you.

You slowed slightly, startled by the question, "Know what?”

“You know,” he rolled out the syllables, dancing around what he asked, “I guess to put it simple, about the feeling being mutual.”

You bit your lip, hesitating. The cave narrowed, forcing you both to walk closer, your shoulders almost brushing. “I’m not sure,” you admitted after a breath, “I'm not sure if it was sudden. I can see little moments. Like the way you always look out for the others. How you never hesitate to help, no matter how bad things get. The way you laugh, even when you’re exhausted. How you always make me feel like I’m not just another Jedi. I feel like I'm just me.”

Kix rubbed the back of his neck, a faint flush coloring his cheeks, “I guess I didn’t make it easy to ignore, huh?” he winced wryly.

You smiled, the curve of your lips gentle in the dim light, “No. You didn’t.” The silence stretched again, but it was warmer now, filled with a quiet understanding. The sound of your footsteps echoed softly as you continued deeper into the cave.

Kix glanced at you again, his brow furrowed slightly, “I always wondered how the Jedi managed it,” he shrugged, “The whole no attachments thing. Doesn’t it get lonely?”

You stopped in your tracks, the question cutting deeper than you expected. “It does,” you admitted, "But we’re taught to suppress those feelings. To let them go, like we let go of everything else.” You waved your hand, the bitterness in your voice sharper than you intended, “But that’s- I don't know. I don’t think that's me."

Kix slowed, watching you with quiet intensity, “What do you mean?”

You sighed, your voice growing more determined, “The Jedi Code was written millenia ago, by people who couldn’t have imagined a galaxy at war like this. We’re supposed to be selfless, to put the needs of the galaxy before our own. But at what cost? Our happiness and humanity?”

Kix’s steps faltered, and he reached out, his gloved hand brushing your arm lightly, "So, you don’t agree with the Code?”

You met his gaze, allowing your hand to grab his, intertwining your fingers around his as you continued to walk. Kix couldn't help but look down at your hand in his and smile. It felt natural.

“Not entirely. I think it’s too conservative and rigid. We’re not droids, Kix. We’re people. We love, we grieve, we feel. Denying that it doesn’t make us stronger. It just makes us hollow.”

Kix’s grasp on your hand tightened, “Have you always felt that way?”

You hesitated, then nodded, “Honesty, for a long time. If it weren’t for the war, I probably would’ve left the Order already.”

Kix’s brow furrowed, “Left? You’d give up being a Jedi?”

You gave a small, wistful smile, "Oh I enjoyed my time at the Temple, mastering the force, being knighted. I love what it’s taught me. But I also want more. I want a life and home and people to come back to and to laugh with them without guilt. But to love without rules, that would be nice for once.”

Kix’s voice was rough, almost disbelieving, “That sounds like something us clones can only dream of.”

You shrugged lightly, a trace of sadness in your smile, “Maybe one day, when this war is over I’ll find that. Somewhere quiet and peaceful. Perhaps you can too."

Kix’s lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, he reached up, his hand brushing your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along your jaw. His touch was light, almost reverent, as though he were memorizing the feel of you beneath his hand, “I’d like that,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, "To find something like that." He hesitated briefly, "but something about the idea of doing it all with you makes it somehow seem even dreamier."

Your heart stumbled, the quiet confession sinking into you like a warm tide. For a moment, the war, the cave and the danger lurking outside all faded, leaving only the fragile thread of possibility stretching between you.

You leaned into his touch, your breath catching as his fingers tangled gently in your hair, "You mean that?”

His smile was faint, but it reached his eyes, crinkling the corners with quiet sincerity, “I wouldn't lie to you. I’ve been so focused on patching up the others and keeping everyone else going that I never thought I could want something for myself. But after Saleucami and meeting Cut and his family, knew I wanted more than just surviving day to day. I want to live.”

A shiver ran down your spine, not from cold but from the weight of his words. You leaned forward, your forehead brushing his as you whispered, “I get that." For a long moment, you stood there, your bodies close, the warmth of him steady against your cheek.

Eventually, Kix drew back slightly, his expression soft but determined, “As you said before, we should keep moving,” he teased, though his voice was tinged with reluctance.

You nodded, your fingers still grasping onto his. As you walked side by side, your shoulders occasionally brushing, the air between you felt lighter.

The air felt a little less heavy now, though the shadows still pressed close as you and Kix moved deeper into the cave system.

There was a shift between you, something that hadn’t been there before. Some sort of openness perhaps. The fragile confessions, the quiet touches, the slow realization that whatever had bloomed between you in these dark tunnels wasn’t going to be left behind.

You glanced sideways at him, taking in the faint smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth despite the exhaustion in his eyes. His gaze met yours briefly, and something unspoken passed between you.

After a while, the tunnel narrowed again, forcing you both to slow. Ahead, there was a faint draft of cool air, and you realized with a start that this might actually be an exit. Not a clear, wide path back into daylight, but a crack in the rock wide enough to let air flow through.

You paused, hand braced against the wall, and looked back at Kix. He was breathing hard, but determination was written in every line of his face.

“We’re almost there,” you nodded into the breeze.

His smile was soft but wry, “I think you've been saying that for the last hour.”

You gave a quiet laugh, shaking your head, “This time I mean it. Feel that breeze?”

Kix nodded, his expression clearing just a little, “Yep. It smells like fresh air.”

You both stood there for a moment, shoulders brushing, letting the cool air wash over you. Then Kix took a shaky breath and pushed off the wall, “Well,” he said, his voice low and rough, “guess it’s time to stop being the medic and start being something else.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Something else?”

He gave you a playful smile, "I mean we came into this mess as a Jedi and a clone medic, right? I think we’re leaving as something more.” The words were light, almost teasing, but you heard the truth in them, and it sent a quiet warmth spreading through your chest.

You stepped closer, brushing your knuckles lightly against his, “Together,” you winked.

Kix smiled, and for a moment, you both just stood there, the air from the crack in the wall stirring faintly around you. The cave was still a cage, but it no longer felt like a prison. It felt like a threshold. “I was worried,” Kix said after a moment, his voice quieter now, “That when we got out of here, you’d just go back to being a Jedi and I'd just go back to being the battalion medic and we would just pretend this never happened.”

You shook your head, firm, “This isn’t something I can pretend didn’t happen. It’s not just some," you paused before giving a half laugh, "I don't know, cave moment.”

Kix’s lips twitched, “Cave moment?”

You sharply exhaled from your nose, “You know what I mean.”

His smile grew, a soft warmth in his eyes, “Over analyzing everything you say is one of my new duties now, is it not?"

You let out sigh of content, your fingers brushing his cheek, tracing the faint stubble there, “I won't leave us behind down here."

He leaned into your touch, his breath warm against your palm, “Good,” he retorted, “because the guys are going to give me hell when we get back.”

You snorted softly, "Oh?”

Kix’s grin turned playful, though there was a faint flush at his ears, “Oh, yeah. They’ll say something like, 'You finally did it!’”

You laughed, the sound echoing softly against the cave walls, “They’ve been waiting for this?”

He shrugged, his expression mock-innocent, “Maybe. I might’ve let a few things slip. It's hard not to when you’re stuck in a ship with the same squad."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade, “Great. So, we’re the gossip of the 501st.”

Kix’s arm tightened around your shoulders, “Well, if we’re going to be the gossip, we might as well make it worth their while.

You laughed again, the sound lighter than it had been in hours. Then, more softly, you continued, “We need to get out of here.”

Kix raised an eyebrow, “I thought you said we were almost there.”

You gave him a crooked smile, “We are. But I mean we need to get out of here. Out of the cave and whatever bubble we had up around each other. We’ve got lost time to make up for.”

His expression softened, and he leaned in, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. His voice was low, steady, "We will. One step at a time. But let’s start with getting out of this cave, yeah?”

You nodded, your breath catching slightly at the quiet promise in his voice. Together, you turned toward the narrow opening, your hands brushing as you prepared to squeeze through.

The light beyond wasn’t full daylight, instead just a faint shimmer of something brighter than the dark. But it was enough to tell you that there was a way forward.

As you and Kix moved toward it, shoulder to shoulder, you realized something.

You weren’t just walking out of a cave, you were stepping into something new together.

tags:

@trixie2023 @clon3wh0r3 @melonmochiii @alice-in-wonderland111 @marvel-starwars-nerd @simping-for-fives @horsegirl4561 @koskareevesismyqueen @katelynnwrites @pinkiemme @youmaynowdothething @808tsuika @dangerdumpling @ahsoka-padme @persaloodles @soclonely @coffeeandtodd @gryffindorqueensworld @obiorbenkenobi @jedi-dreea @lightning-wolffe

#clone x reader #kix x reader #kix x you #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #501st x reader #clone wars fanfic #kix is so touch starved #this man deserves everything

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