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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Auntie ‘Soka and Little Leia (and Rex)

The counterpart to Uncle Ben and Little Luke (Original Post, Chrono)

Listen. You all knew this was coming.

This got... very long and detailed and I’m going to have to clean it up and post to AO3. As in, this was supposed to be 2-3k and is literally ten times that long. It crossed 25k. And the initial section actually glosses over a bunch, actual fic-style writing starts at “That, of course, is when things get interesting.”

Warnings: discussion of various canon traumas (most relating to being child soldiers), general PTSD, several scenes featuring dissociation or panic attacks upon being triggered, and canon-typical violence.

Rated T, gen.

I still want there to be de-aging nonsense involved so Ahsoka is physically a late teenager despite having a solid two decades of field experience behind her (we’re pulling her from Malachor).

Leia, much like Luke, is now six. She just came from being a rebellion general. She is not happy about being a child. She was already short, this is just mean. She’s a human espresso.

UNLIKE BEN, Ahsoka is not happy about this turn of events. Being seventeen-ish is not helpful in the outer rim. She’s a female togruta, young and healthy, and in the Outer Rim, caring for a small human child. Sure, she has her lightsabers and plenty of combat experience, and she can keep them safe, but she’s just one person, and a major target for those looking to make some quick cash. It doesn’t matter how good she is; she needs sleep at some point.

It makes my heart happy to treat Ahsoka and Rex as two halves of the same black ops specialist so you know what, he’s there too! He’s physically like... 10-12 in natborn, maybe. They’re not sure, because clones age weird. He’s moderately more useful than Leia (who is very competent but also physically six, and short for that age), but he’s still... very small.

Reminder that none of them have been born yet.

Ahsoka has a harder time explaining WHY she has children with her, since she's barely more than a kid herself, and clearly unrelated by species. She sometimes just says “Oh, my adoptive brother’s kids” since it’s kind of the truth for Leia and she’s not touching the actual truth about Rex with a ten foot pole.

Ahsoka definitely knows about Leia being a Skywalker, or at least has suspicions that Bail never outright confirmed but was conspicuously quiet about. She does tell Leia about it, but it’s not like that means anything, right? Just, you know, your dad was my teacher! I don’t have to tell you he became Va--oh shit, you already knew that part. Well, fuck. What do you mean he had a son? OH SHIT, PADME HAD TWINS.

Alt take for explaining why she’s got kids: She’s my foundling, I know her name as my child (Leia shut up!!!)

(Ahsoka can fake Mandalore. Sometimes.)

That said, there is... significantly less gambling and significantly more theft to get to Coruscant.

As previously stated, Ahsoka is a black ops kinda gal, and more importantly, she looks like a fairly attractive young woman in the Outer Rim, with two children in good health. She’s a target, and also not the kind of person one generally gambles with. If she does gamble, people get upset when she doesn’t lose, in ways they don’t get upset about Ben doing the same, because she’s, again, a cute teenage girl. It’s exhausting.

As things go, she largely ends up stealing from people who deserve it and/or smuggling herself and her charges into someone else’s ship. They’re small, they can hide. Sometimes she can get them all passage by working as a mechanic, she’s good at that.

Once they’ve got a handle on when they are, they have to decide on Names. None of them have been born yet, so technically they could use their own names without anyone Knowing. Rex and Leia might not even be born, depending on how successful they are at, you know, stopping the war and everything. Ahsoka, though, she’s going be born in two years, and there’s no reason to prevent it, so... she doesn’t want to steal baby-her’s name. That would be mean.

Leia is already calling her “Auntie ‘Soka” when she can for reasons like “selling the bit” and “manipulating adults” and “making us both feel better after we had a mutual breakdown about Anakin being Vader.” Ergo, she decides that whatever new name she picks better include that in some way, and decides on “Sokari” because it sounds pretty.

Overall, they don’t... they don’t actually make it very far before there’s an Incident. Again, teenager with small children. They spend a lot of time hiding out in space ports looking for an opportunity.

That, of course, is when things get interesting.

Specifically, Ahsoka spots a Mandalorian.

She doesn’t recognize the armor. She does recognize the sigil, and thinks ‘well, they’re more likely to help than some,’ because from what she’s heard, the Haat Mando’ade are Decent People Overall. Her view is a little biased, mostly on account of the sheer level of grudge she has against Kyr’tsad. It’s fine! The True Mandalorians have the same grudge, right? And Mandalorians like kids and Ahsoka hasn’t slept in five days and it’s fine. It’s fine! IT’S FINE.

“Oh shit,” Rex whispers, before she can suggest anything. “Oh fuck.”

“Stop cursing,” Leia hisses, elbowing him. “People are going to notice.”

“That’s the Prime,” Rex panics, mostly quiet. Ahsoka’s heart drops, because fuck is right. “That’s Fett.”

Leia isn’t impressed. Ahsoka just angles herself between Fett and Rex and hopes that he doesn’t see them. That’s just asking for trouble.

Unfortunately, Ahsoka is in fact running on none sleep with left trauma, and doesn’t notice Fett walking up and dropping into a seat across from them until he’s actually done so, removing his helmet to glare a little more efficiently.

“Wanna explain why your kid has my face?”

Ahsoka later tells herself that he’s killed Jedi and that’s why he can sneak up on her, and that she can be forgiven some slip-ups with the exhaustion being what it is, and that she’s obviously going to be dealing with some emotional instability in light of the sudden return of teenage hormones and new forms of anxiety that are markedly different from those she was dealing with a few weeks ago.

What Ahsoka wants to say is “that’s kind of a long story,” or “maybe he’s a cousin,” or “kriff off, I don’t know you,” or maybe even “he’s a clone.”

What Ahsoka actually does is burst into tears, which is embarrassing for her, for Fett, for the kids, and for the entire rest of the bar.

It really is the straw that broke the eopie’s back. Even when she was actually this age, she didn’t exactly cry much. Objectively, Fett quasi-aggressively asking a valid question shouldn’t send her into a panic. She’s been through torture and worse. She shouldn’t be crying.

But she is, sobbing her eyes out with no control, and he’s just sitting across from her and looking uncomfortable while Rex wraps his little arms--oh Force he’s so small--around her, and both ‘children’ glare at Fett.

“So, I’m going to take it she didn’t kidnap you from a loving family or do something illicit with a blood sample,” Fett says, after it becomes obvious that Ahsoka’s not going to be ready to talk any time soon.

“She didn’t,” Rex says stiffly, with just the right emphasis for Fett to catch what’s implied. Ahsoka just keeps her head down, eyes pressed against the heels of her palms, trying to get her body to stop rebelling against her.

Fett’s eyes dart to Leia, who folds her arms and draws herself up, every bit the unimpressed princess. “My father claimed her as a sister, so she’s my Auntie ‘Soka.”

The man dithers a bit, the conversation clearly not going where he’d expected. “Right,” he says. “You--you’re all kids. I thought she was a little older, at least, but I didn’t have a good look at her face before.”

She is older, but actually admitting that is only going to make this worse, both for her pride and for her chances of making it out alive.

“Where are you staying?”

“What?” Leia bites out.

“You’re kids, you’re alone, and you’re clearly not okay if you were trying to hide the one with my face as blatantly as you did, and then... whatever this is, when I confronted you,” Fett explains. Ahsoka lifts her head to glare at him, but it’s probably not doing much with the way her eyes are rimmed with red and still wet. “Don’t give me that look, ad’ika, your kids looked as confused and horrified by that as the bartender did. They obviously didn’t think it was normal either.”

Well, kriff you too, Ahsoka thinks.

“And what do you mean by ‘blatantly,’ here?” Leia challenges. It’s adorable, but Ahsoka watched this tiny girl shoot a man last week, and wonders when people are going to start taking that seriously.

“There’s a lot of people in this galaxy, and I don’t exactly have the clearest memory of what I looked like at that age,” Fett says, slow and careful like he thinks they’re dumb. Ahsoka decides to chalk it up as being because Leia’s visibly six. “I would have thought it was just a coincidence if you hadn’t put in effort to hide him.”

Leia huffs, and Rex glares harder. Fett just sighs, like they’re all going to give him grey hairs.

“You can explain whatever the hell’s going on,” Fett says. “I’ll let you stay on my ship, there’s a spare bunk and you’re small.”

“For free?” Rex demands.

“A night on a bunk in exchange for information,” Fett clarifies. “We can negotiate from there.”

Ahsoka takes a few moments, notes that both of the others are waiting on her for the decision, and cringes. She doesn’t feel steady enough to carry that. She has to anyway.

“Rex?” she asks, voice rasping after the breakdown of the past few minutes.

“Yeah?”

“How much?”

He looks up at her, eyes calculating, and grimaces. “We don’t want Order 66. A warning is better, even if we... share information.”

She nods, and turns to Leia. “Any premonitions, princess?”

Leia glowers, cute and furious. “No.”

“No, don’t tell, or no, you aren’t getting any vibes about sharing info one way or the other?”

“The latter,” Leia clarifies, huffy to the last.

“Right,” Ahsoka says, and then just... hesitates. “Fett...”

“You’ve got conditions,” he guesses.

She bares her teeth in what could have, through a squint and perhaps a few drinks, been called an apologetic smile. “Just one, really.”

“Yeah?”

“No hurting, killing, or turning us in for bounties,” she says. “Any of us.”

“You’re children, I wouldn’t.”

She blinks at him, slow and careful. She hesitates. She reaches down, out of sight, sees him stiffen.

She unclips her sabers from her belt and puts them on the table.

His eyes are fixed on the weapons the second they enter his line of sight, and don’t move as he clearly realizes why she made the condition she did.

“I left years ago, because I couldn’t stay without it ruining me,” she says. Still slow. Still careful. She’s so tired. “But if I want to keep Leia safe, I have to get back to Coruscant.”

His eyes finally lift from the sabers, expression blank. “Just her?”

“Rex doesn’t have the same monsters coming after him,” she says. “If it were just me and him, I’d worry less. Leia’s a different kind of target.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith on the table by telling me that,” Fett says, voice flat and toneless. “Considering my occupation.”

“She’s a child,” Ahsoka says, feeling heavy and boneless. “Even with what I was and will be, even with what money you would get from the right buyer, you wouldn’t.”

“There are other risks.”

“There are.”

They stare at each other for too long, probably, and then Fett jerks as Rex kicks him under the table. The boys glare for a moment, and then Rex says, “If she weren’t good, I’d still be a slave to those who grew me.”

Fett blinks, and then nearly growls the word, “What?”

“She freed me,” Rex reiterates. “While I was trying to shoot her.”

Ahsoka lifts a hand and puts it on his far shoulder, pulling him into her side. She doesn’t meet Fett’s eyes again, because part of her is back on Mandalore, dodging her own soldiers and crying out as her family dies across the galaxy.

Fett breathes in. Breathes out. He puts a hand to his head, visibly frustrated. “Fine. A good Jedi kid, and two smaller kids, one of which is apparently in some way mine.”

Rex makes a face, which is fair, but also not helping.

“To the ship,” Ahsoka says, putting her sabers back on her belt and sliding out of the seat. “I’m... I’m Sokari.”

“You already know my name.”

“I do.”

---------------------------

Fett watches her like she’s a predator, which has the benefit of being accurate and slightly flattering. She lets other two take care of most of talking, and then Fett tells her to sleep first, and talk in the morning.

“You’re dead on your feet, jetii,” he snorts. “And that crying jag didn’t do you any favors. Sleep.”

So she does, and Fett doesn’t even wake her. He just lets her sleep. He watches her in the way of a guard. She sees him when she gets up to use the ‘fresher in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t even comment when she collapses right back into the mediocre cot she’s borrowed for the cycle.

Rex and Leia are safe, her hindbrain tells her, even in the depths of sleep. Her mind curls around theirs in the Force, and she trusts that they are here. They are not happy, but they are alive and unharmed, and that has to be enough.

When she stumbles her way to true wakefulness, groggy and loose-limbed, Fett greets her with caf.

“The kids wouldn’t let me near you,” he tells her.

“They’re good,” she says, cupping her hands around the mug. She feels wobbly, in every sense. Her body, her mind, her emotions, her connection to the Force. Nothing is on-kilter right now. “Did they tell you anything?”

“They waited for you,” he says. “But the little miss needed a nap of her own. They’re down in the other bunk.”

“I didn’t notice,” she admits. She should have. She’s Fulcrum. She’s a veteran of the Clone Wars. She’s... she’s supposed to be better than this.

“How long?” he asks, and then when she squints up at him, he clarifies. “How long did you fight?”

“My last fight--”

“No, whatever war you came out of,” he says. Her chest twists cold. “I don’t know if the Jedi sent you into it or if you waded in yourself once you left, but you move like a soldier.”

“I was,” she confirms. “But... but I don’t want to talk about the details. Not until the other two are here.”

He frowns at her. “Is there anything you can talk about?”

She shrugs and looks away, trying to take solace in the warmth of the caff she holds above the table, as if it can hide her, guard her, from the disgraced Mand’alor across the table.

“Jedi?”

“I’m not officially a Jedi,” she says, voice quiet. “Not anymore.”

“Then what do I call you?” he asks. “We’re not exactly close enough for names.”

“Torrent,” she says. “It’s not--I can’t claim my family name anymore. But I can claim Torrent, so I will. And if you want a title, I was a commander.”

“Bit young for that.”

“I got the rank when I was fourteen,” she says, and watches his face do something complicated and unpleasant. “Don’t. I know your own culture puts children on the field that young.”

“Not in command.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, well... the soldiers were technically younger. Adults, but...”

Ahsoka can see the way he casts about to figure out what species grows at that rate. He guesses a few, and she shoots all of it down.

She won’t tell him. Not until Rex is awake.

This part of the story is his.

--------------------------

When Leia tries to sit alone, a foot away on the bench like a proper adult, Ahsoka refuses to let it happen. She pulls the younger girl to her side and quells protests with a glance. It’s a decent skill, but she’s not sure how long it’s going to work on her niece-in-spirit.

“Your body needs the chemical release of skinship,” she says, and Leia glares at her. “I spent way too much time with the boys to not know about this. Deal.”

Rex sits close enough to knock their knees together under the table, and his warmth is the old comfort she needs.

“Do you want the story you’ll believe, or the truth?” Ahsoka asks.

“What’s the difference?”

“One of them involves something so impossible that even most Jedi wouldn’t believe it,” she tells him.

Fett folds his arms and leans forward to rest them on the table, challenging but oddly open. “Try me.”

“Time travel.”

He blinks, just once, fully controlled. “That’s a tough one.”

“There were only three Jedi left alive when I died,” she says. “Or... whatever it is that happened to me. I think I died. All I know is that one moment, I was thirty-two and dying, and the next, I was... seventeen again, and had these two with me. All of us younger than we were. None of us have even been born yet.”

She refuses to look him in the eye. “They both outlived me by... six years, maybe. Got caught up while traveling instead of dying. Leia was twenty-two. Rex was thirty-five. I’m not technically the oldest anymore. I mean, physically I am, but that doesn’t mean anything, and it’s not exactly doing us any good, and--”

Rex bumps his shoulder to her arm. “I dunno, Commander. I’ve spent a long time looking older than I should. Nice to look younger for once.”

She shoots him a small, pained grin. “Could be worse, yeah.”

“Let’s say I believe you.”

Her attention snaps back to Fett, who’s looking damnably blank, and is showing even less in the Force.

He waits a second for her to relax back into her seat.

“Let’s say I believe you,” he repeats. “How’s ‘Rex’ connected to me? What’s so special about Leia there? And what war did you fight in that has you acting like a veteran?”

“Three years in the clone wars,” she whispers, glancing to Rex and forcing herself to not go for her sabers to defend against an attack that her paranoia says is coming and the Force says is not. “Then almost all the Jedi were wiped out at once, and I spent a year... drifting. Then black ops for the next fifteen.”

“Black ops,” he repeats, still damnably flat.

“There was a Sith Empire,” she says, and she can hear her own tone growing somehow emptier. “Glassing planets. Enslaving entire species. Committing genocides all over. Of course, there was a rebellion, and of course I joined it. I was one of the only people left with Jedi training. For all that I’d left the Order, I still had a duty to the universe.”

His eyes flit to Leia, who shrugs and tries to look prim. “I was adopted and raised by one of the founders of the rebellion, a movement built on the desire to instate freedom and democracy in a galaxy that had lost even the pretense.”

“That why you’re special?”

Leia smiles, thin and patronizing. It doesn’t fit on her little face. “I’m special because my biological father was one of the most powerful Force users in history, and his Fall to the dark side and choice to become a Sith is why the Emperor’s rise was nearly uncontested. I do not like power, but it’s in my veins and I can’t change that. Force users are... a lucrative trade, and I’m still the size of a child, so I can’t fight back. I’ll be safer in the Jedi Temple, even if I don’t want to be a Jedi.”

Fett looks to Ahsoka, makes to ask a question, and then shakes his head. Not the time, maybe.

“So, that’s all... very complicated and I don’t know how much of it I believe, but it doesn’t explain...” he trails off, and sighs. “My kid, or whatever you are. I heard you mention clones.”

Rex grins. It is not a kind expression.

“Let me tell you about Kamino.”

---------------------------

Ahsoka has no idea if Fett believes them. Either he thinks they’re telling the truth, or he thinks their delusional kids. Whatever the case, he offers to take them closer to the Core. Ahsoka quietly offers to take a look at his engine in return, and then pretends not to notice when Fett awkwardly drifts to and away from Rex.

“They put chips in our brains to make us kill the Jedi we respected, cared for, even loved. I tried to shoot ‘Soka, Fett. She was seventeen and risked her life to get that chip out of my head while I was trying to kill her. I have never hated myself more than when I woke up and realized what I’d almost done, and I was one of the few that were able to fight it. I heard the stories of dozens of brothers who woke with their chips having degraded and chose to eat their blaster rather than live with the guilt of the orders they’d followed without question because of a thrice-damned Sith slave chip in their head.”

“So no, I won’t call you father or acknowledge you as clan until you do something to prove you’re worth it, shared blood or not.”

What Ahsoka does get out of the arrangement, for all that Fett’s route mostly takes them on a meandering path that isn’t faster than their previous system, is sleep. She gets to rest. She gets to trust that Fett won’t kill Rex, out of guilt for something he hasn’t done, that he won’t kill Leia out of a worry that she’s just a delusional child, a real child, that he won’t kill ‘Sokari’ because it would ruin any chance of gaining Rex’s favor, ever.

She’s not safe, won’t believe she can be until she’s in the Temple and Sidious is dead dead dead, but she’s safer than she’s been in a long time.

Every night, Ahsoka wakes up and stumbles to the little galley, deaths and torture sparkling behind her eyes with the energy of a thousand lost Jedi, ten thousand mourned brothers and sisters.

She is not the only one of their little group to be a survivor of a near-total genocide, but Rex could not feel his brothers die in the Force, even if his nightmares featured what they heard of suicide missions by the emperor’s favored shock troopers, and Leia had... Alderaan had more off-world survivors than there had been Jedi at all.

It’s not worth comparing their pain. It’s stupid to even think it. Part of her can’t help but do it anyway.

“Caf?”

She feels a lek twitch in response to the voice of the only other person on board who can reach the top shelf. “I probably shouldn’t.”

“Whiskey?”

“That’s a definitely shouldn’t.”

“Hoth chocolate?”

“...please.”

She doesn’t lift her head from her arms until the mug clicks down in front of her, ceramic on plastisteel.

“Do I ask what it was this time?”

She shrugs. “It’s hard to explain to non-sensitives.”

“Try me anyway.”

Ahsoka twists the Hoth chocolate in her hands, takes a sip as she thinks. “The Force isn’t just one thing. It’s... energy and philosophy and spirit, a sense of being that ties the entire universe together. Sentient and inanimate and living and dead, empty space and lush forests and stifled cities. For those of us who are sensitive to it, it’s possible to feel the life of everyone around you, theoretically possible to feel entire systems. If you have a Force bond, like a master and padawan, that can stretch across planets, even systems if one or both are particularly powerful.

“So just... just imagine, for a moment, what it’s like to feel the screaming of all those Jedi in the Force as their trusted men shot them down.

“Some of them were close enough that I could feel them die,” she manages. “I... it’s horrible. It’s horrific. It’s not something I can ever forget, and I want to. I want to forget what that moment was like. Not that it happened, but...”

She can feel the tears. Fuck..

“You want to dull the edges.”

“Don’t we all?” she asks, scrubbing the back of her hand across her eyes. “Leia lost her entire planet, billions of people, and she was forced to watch. Rex... Force, I can barely imagine, and I was there for most of it.”

Fett watches her, measuring. “From what he said, they were as much your brothers as his, by the end.”

“No,” she immediately denies. “They could have been, maybe, but the ones I was closest to died earlier, and then I left, and by the time the Empire rose, all but a handful were... no. Rex, I will claim as a brother in all the ways that matter, but I don’t get to do that with the rest. I don’t have the right.”

“You’re hard on yourself.”

“Fate of the galaxy, my good bitch. Guess who’s got it on her shoulders.”

He snorts at her, and nods at the mug. “Drink your Hoth chocolate. We’re landing in eight hours, and you’ve got kids to look out for.”

---------------------------

There’s a twitch in the Force when they land, something pulling at her in a way she barely feels. She’s had her shields up so fully for so long that it’s natural to hide away what she is to the point where she can hardly tell what anyone else is, either. It takes more than a moment to remember how to let herself spread out across the world.

“Auntie ‘Soka? Why’d you stop?”

She doesn’t have an answer to Leia’s prodding question. “I don’t know.”

It’s almost familiar. Old and half-forgotten, not the same as what she remembers, but--

“This way,” she says, and wanders off into the crowd. Leia and Rex follow without question. Fett curses and rushes through the rest of his transaction with the docking attendant. The sound of him jogging after them is almost funny, with the armor, but she can’t focus on that.

Ahsoka slips between people with the ease of a career built on such a habit, children trailing like ducklings. She knows this feeling, she knows this person, what is she missi--

“Oh,” she breathes, going stock still. She knows that face. She knows those braids. She even knows the presence.

Younger than Ahsoka had ever seen her, but unmistakably Master Billaba.

“Torrent, what the hell?” Fett demands, finally catching up. “You can’t just run off like that!”

“It’s Depa,” she says, eyes still fixed on the woman parsing through a datapad with an irritated vendor. She has a padawan braid. It doesn’t feel like Master Windu is on-planet, so this might be a solo mission, a... oh. Senior Padawan, Knight Elect. This is the kind of mission taken to test if she’s ready to be promoted.

Ahsoka feels light-headed.

Fett waits for her to elaborate, but she can’t. This was Kanan’s master. This was a member of the High Council. This was a woman who died and--

“You need to sit down,” Fett says, not a touch gruff. He puts a hand on her shoulder and guides her off the main walkway. “I’m... going to talk to the woman in the Jedi robes. You three just stay there and don’t get kidnapped.”

Ahsoka nods, feeling like she’s not quite inhabiting her own body.

It’s Depa.

Her eyes track Fett without conscious control, and her montrals pick up the sound.

Depa looks up when the armor comes close enough, free hand tensed in a way that says she’s preventing herself from reaching for a saber in reaction to the heavily-armored individual standing several feet away.

“Mando,” the woman says. “May I help you?”

“Are you Depa?”

Depa doesn’t do anything so dramatic as gape or step back, but she does blink rapidly for a moment. She then folds her hands down in front of her, drawing her spine up ramrod straight. “I am Jedi Padawan Depa Billaba, yes. May I ask why it is that you need to know?”

Ahsoka imagines Fett grimacing, or rolling his eyes, or maybe dithering. She can’t tell from this angle, and he has a helmet on besides. It turns his awkward silences into judgmental ones.

“I’ve had some Jedi kids on my ship, hitching a ride,” he says at length. “One of them recognized you and then just... froze.”

“You have our younglings in your care,” Depa says, carefully not accusatory, but close enough to be a warning.

“Not quite,” he says. “The one that actually came from the temple is seventeen. One of ‘em isn’t Force Sensitive, and the last one is but hasn’t been to Coruscant before. They’re trying to get the little one to the Temple for her own safety.”

Depa considers that, and then passes the datapad to the vendor. “Lead on.”

It’s surprisingly simple, really. Fett did all the talking.

And then Depa is standing right in front of her.

“Like I said,” Fett sighs. “She froze up.”

“Hello,” Depa says, hands laced together inside her sleeves. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Ahsoka shakes her head. “I know of you. I’ve seen you spar. You’ve never spoken to me.”

All true. A little misleading, but it’s fine, it’s all fine.

Depa waits a moment, and then says, “You seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“Sokari T-Torrent,” she manages. The words feel clunky in her mouth, the sound abrasive for all that it’s just her own voice, no different from usual. A little shaky, maybe. She can feel a cool breeze on her upper arms. Shouldn’t she have armor? She should have armor. “It... it’s been a long time since I’ve seen another Jedi. I’m having a hard time believing you’re real.”

“I see,” Depa says. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private? You seem a little unsteady.”

Ahsoka lets herself be led back to the ship, in the company of Mand’alor Jango Fett, Jedi Padawan Depa Billaba, Princess-General Leia Organa, and good old Captain Rex.

It’s like the start of a sick joke.

---------------------------

Fett and Depa talk where she can hear, but they rarely address her directly. Both seem to realize that she’s not particularly useful right now. Leia and Rex are pressing up against her at the little table in the galley, and Ahsoka lets them.

This is real. She can feel Depa in the Force, recognizes her energy even if it’s not quite what it will-was-could-have-been. This is happening.

It’s a textbook Traumatic Stress Response case, one of them says.

Fett has his helmet off. Ahsoka’s sure that’s wrong for some reason. She thinks he might already be on wanted lists. Should she worry about Depa trying to arrest him?

Depa asks about Rex at one point. Fett tells her that someone cloned him without his knowing, but the kid is more comfortable with Ahsoka so they’re still working on what that means for him.

It’s more or less true. Rex squeezes her hand the one time someone suggests separating them. She’s not letting that happen unless Rex wants to leave for whatever reason. They’ve worked apart before. They can do it again.

“Auntie Soka? You’re shivering.”

Is she?

Leia cuddles in closer, and Ahsoka runs a hand over her hair. It’s an absentminded motion, and for all that she knows Leia’s hair is fine as silk, it feels like plastic in the moment.

“I don’t think I’m okay,” Ahsoka announces. The words hang in the air like lead balloons, and she can feel Depa staring at her. “I haven’t been for a very long time.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Fett says. “Do you need to lay down, Torrent?”

Does she?

“No,” she says. “I... I don’t know what I need.”

“The spicy drink,” Rex tells them. “It’s grounding.”

Right. That.

Fett goes to grab it, and Depa continues to watch.

“How long ago did you leave your master?” Depa asks. “Or... did he die?”

Ahsoka closes her eyes and shakes her head. She can feel the shivers now, tremors in her biceps and a shudder she can’t control in the height of her ribcage. Her teeth grind together, jaw like stone.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Depa assures her. “I’m... going to recommend you see a mind healer on Coruscant.”

That was a forgone conclusion.

A cup clinks onto the table. Fett’s back. “Drink.”

She does.

Depa and Fett continue discussing it as “the adults” at the table. She’s older than both of them. Rex is older than all of them. Ahsoka follows about half of what they say. She agrees with most of it. Rex bullies his way into speaking when she doesn’t, without her even asking, because he knows her mind as well as she does. Fett rolls with it. Depa lets him.

She’s going to reach out to the Temple and see about getting them a ride back to Imperial Center Coruscant.

Fett makes Soka go to bed, taking Leia with her.

---------------------------

She feels more like a person come morning.

Depa’s sitting at the table, datapad in her hands and caff on the table in front of her.

“Good morning,” Ahsoka says, rough and croaking, and Depa’s eyes flick up to meet hers. She nods a shallow hello.

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” Ahsoka says, and goes about gathering a breakfast. There’s definitely some dried meat in here. She can get something fresh when they stop by the market later.

“I was hoping to speak with you about your options,” Depa tells her, once she’s sat at the table. “Fett and your friend Rex took care of most of the negotiation, and I feel like I have an idea of what would work best for you.”

Ahsoka nods slowly. “Okay.”

“There is a Master-Padawan pair a few planets away,” Depa says. “The Council informed me when I spoke with them about you and your wards. They’d be headed back to the Temple in a few days anyway, and the Council has agreed to extend an offer to Fett to handle the transportation. The presence of a Jedi Master on board will allow for him to get in and out of the Core unmolested, and we’d like for you and yours to have a Jedi escort, given what happened yesterday afternoon.”

Her complete spiral into nonbeing?

“I understand,” she says instead. “I suppose Fett agreed because he’s still trying to get Rex to like him?”

Depa shrugs. “That part isn’t my business.”

Of course it isn’t.

“Rex can stay with me for a while, right?” Ahsoka finally asks. “I know it’s not exactly protocol, but I’m...”

“In need of a support system until you’ve seen a mind healer, and against all odds, the child is part of it,” Depa summarizes. “Yes, I recognized as much. I think the Council will be able to allow some leeway there. I don’t know if he’ll enjoy it, given that all the others his age are Initiates, but we can adjust as necessary. On that note... Do you know Leia’s midichlorian count?”

“No,” Ahsoka says, and hesitantly adds, “But her biological father was my Jedi Master, and I’m told his count broke records even as a child. Given what Leia’s shown so far... it’s why I’ve been in a hurry to get her to the Temple.”

Depa frowns at her, clearly working through the implications of a Jedi having a daughter and still teaching... and then visibly dismisses the situation, eyes closing to breathe in the steam of her caff.

Biological father certainly implies a child that was raised by her mother or adopted out so the Jedi father could remain in their chosen career without a conflict of interest or duty.

She’ll tell the council the truth, or... at least Master Koon. Master Kenobi is still a padawan, but she can tell Master Koon.

She already told Jango Fett, of all people.

“Padawan Torrent?”

Her head snaps up. She hasn’t been a padawan in over fifteen years. It’s weird to hear. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if you wanted some time to think it over before I presented the offer to Fett,” Depa says.

Ahsoka gets the distinct feeling that Depa is planning a report to the Council that has ‘needs a mind healer’ underlined at least three times.

“No, I’m--I’m fine. That sounds like a good plan.”

“I’ll speak with him, then. Would you like to come with?”

"No, thank you.”

---------------------------

Fett agrees. Ahsoka’s pretty sure it’s all to do with Rex and maybe Leia. It’s probably nothing to do with ‘Sokari.’ She’s a Jedi, an adult in mind and in body, or at least close enough to count. She’s a damn sight more ‘enemy’ to Fett than the other two are. Not as much as Depa, maybe, but Fett’s been playing nice with her for Leia’s sake.

He plays nice with Ahsoka for Rex’s. That’s all.

They’re only a few planets over from the meeting point, and they have a few days to hang around before the escort meets them. Depa hadn’t given them a name--apparently it could have compromised the opsec for the Jedi team--but Ahsoka’s pretty sure she’ll be able to identify almost anyone. She gets the feeling that the Force is going to send her a familiar face, just as it did Master Padawan Billaba.

Ahsoka lets herself feel the world around her. It’s dark and dreary, in the sense that the beaten-down port is full of petty crimes and less petty horrors, but it’s still lighter than most of the Empire had been. She sneaks away from the ship at night, ignoring Fett at her back, and performs a bit of vigilante justice while she can. She’ll be banned from doing so as soon as she’s reinstated as a Jedi, probably, but for now... for now, she can look at the drug cartels and ‘they’re not slaves, really’ workers and do something to help.

She doesn’t use her sabers. She doesn’t need to. It’s been a long time since she has, for small fry like these.

“What are you doing?” Fett asks her, landing heavily behind her back.

“Chip removal,” she says, hand pressed to the slave’s leg. Her eyes are closed, but she can hear him shifting. “Let me concentrate, I don’t have a meddroid for this.”

He’s silent until she finishes, and waits until the people she’s helped are on their way to the planet’s freedom routes. He doesn’t ask what she did with the owners.

“You’ve done this before.”

“Regularly,” she confirms. “You?”

He doesn’t answer that, just ambles over to the the chains and stares down at them.

“Fett?”

“You go through this like it’s as easy as breathing,” he says. “It’s... impressive.”

“I guess?” she hesitates to continue. “I’m... I don’t think of it that way. This is the easy stuff. A time-waster that helps people. If I wanted to help for real, I’d been going after Jabba or Sidious or--”

“How old were you?” he asks, turning on his heel to face her dead-on. The vocoder of his helmet pulls the emotion from his voice. “When did this... these missions, the slavery battles, when did that start for you?”

“Fourteen,” she says. She’s not entirely sure, really, what counted as a mission for ending slavery and what counted as just a part of war, but she can round down. “Maybe fifteen. It’s a bit of a blur.”

“And you just kept doing it.”

“Of course,” she says. “If I have the time and the energy, if I need to do something and there’s nothing official on my hands, why not?”

He doesn’t answer her.

---------------------------

Rex greets them before she does.

Ahsoka, in her defense, is asleep at the time. It’s a restless sleep, but it’s enough that she doesn’t sense the nearing Force signatures until they’re almost at the ship.

She recognizes one of them.

“Auntie ‘Soka?” Leia questions, when she lurches to her feet and starts pulling on her boots with all the energy of a zombie. “Where are you going?”

“Jedi,” Ahsoka grunts. “Here.”

“I see.”

Leia dresses to follow her, in a little coat that’ll withstand the chill of the outside air, and Ahsoka makes it to the cargo hold just in time to hear Rex saying, “I’m not shaking your hand until you put your gloves on, Vos.”

She laughs to herself, breathless with the knowledge of what she’s about to find. She jumps the railing of the upper walkway, drops down just in front of the Master-Padawan team, and keeps her back to Fett and Rex. “Hello, there.”

One human, one Kiffar. She knows the latter.

“Would you be Sokari Torrent?” the Master asks.

“I am,” she says, with a slight bow. She can tell there’s a bit of judgement for how she’s dressed, but they’re covering it well. A Shadow and his trainee know the value of armor better than most Jedi bother with. “I’m afraid Padawan Billaba didn’t inform me of your names before we met.”

“And yet your friend knew my padawan,” the Master says.

“By reputation,” she says, as smoothly as she can. “I’ve encountered Quinlan Vos before, though I doubt he remembers--”

“I’d remember someone like you,” Quinlan interrupts, with a grin she’s sure is meant to be charming and rogueish.

He’s... very young for her, and not her type. Mostly, she wants to pat him on the head, but that probably wouldn’t go over very well. She still looks like she’s younger than him.

“Anyway,” she says, turning back to the master, “I’m afraid I still don’t know who you are, Master.”

“I am Tholme,” he says, with the bow that a Master gives a Padawan. She feels a little slighted, but it’s fine. She looks the right age, it’s fine.

It’s not like they know.

“It’s nice to meet you, Master Tholme,” she says. “My charges are Rex Torrent, the young man behind me, and currently coming down the ladder is Leia Antilles. I’m sure you’re aware of Jango Fett.”

“The Mand’alor,” Quinlan volunteers, and Ahsoka can almost hear Fett’s teeth grinding.

“Don’t call me that,” he says. She’s sure he’s got a hand drifting for his blaster.

“There isn’t a whole lot of room on the ship,” she says before the men can get into whatever weird contest she’s sure someone might start. Her bet’s on Fett. “But Leia and Rex are small enough to share with me, so I’m sure we can make it work.”

“There’s spare rolls for anyone comfortable with sleeping in the hold,” Fett grunts. “Or on the floor in the passenger room.”

“Well, I guess I could ask for a little help fi--”

“Vos,” Ahsoka snaps, letting her voice take on the kind of ‘obey me or get fresher duty’ irritation that she’d perfected back when the rebellion still had her managing people, before they’d realized she was more use in the field. “Do not.”

There’s a moment’s pause, and Tholme looks unimpressed with that raised eyebrow, but the kind of unimpressed that’s split between his own padawan and the stranger before him.

“Um,” Quinlan says. “I just--”

“No,” she cuts him off. “No flirting.”

It’s weird and uncomfortable and she’d have maybe been okay with it if she was actually the seventeen-or-eighteen-ish(?) that she looked, but she’s not. She’s in her thirties and Vos is... what, twenty? Twenty-one? No.

He stares at her, and she wonders momentarily if she’d gone too far in the direction of judging his intentions in the Force and preempted actual flirtations.

“I’m sorry?” He offers, looking confused, but ashamed. “I, uh, I’ll keep that in mind.”

She definitely preempted the actual flirtation.

Fuck.

Ahsoka closes her eyes and breathes in. Breathes out. Opens her eyes. “Right. That was... I’m not sure how much Padawan Billaba told you about me.”

“Enough,” Tholme says. He moves forward and puts a hand on Quinlan’s shoulder. Ahsoka has no idea if it’s to comfort him or hold him back. “I didn’t share most of it with my padawan, but I have a general understanding of what’s going on.”

Quinlan darts a look at his teacher, but Ahsoka doesn’t acknowledge it. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

“Thank you for your understanding,” she says, and bows, and stiffly turns away to walk to the galley.

---------------------------

Leia squirms into the bench seat, shoving her way under Ahsoka’s arm like a particularly wriggly tooka.

“What was that?” Leia demands, the authority of a rebellion general rather useless in the squeaky voice of a child.

“What was what?”

“The whole thing with Padawan Vos,” Leia says. “You blew up at him before he even did anything.”

That’s pretty true.

“I felt the flirtation coming before it happened and reacted inappropriately because I panicked. I’m significantly older than him, but I can’t tell him that, so it’s just awkward and uncomfortable and... I’m not okay, Princess. I haven’t been for a long time.”

“Yeah, we can tell.”

“Leia.”

“What? I need therapy too! Captain Rex needs therapy! I’m pretty sure Fett needs therapy! You, Fulcrum, you really need therapy. None of us are okay.” She huffs, wiggling impossibly closer. “I don’t like it, but it’s true.”

“I know,” Ahsoka groans. “I just... I just need to hold out until the Temple.”

“Will you be able to hold it together if you see someone you actually care about?” Leia demands. “What are you going to do when you see Kenobi?”

“Stop.”

“I’m serious, you--”

“Leia, that’s enough,” she snaps. “I was fighting that war before you were even born, and I’ve dealt with the consequences since. I know the risks and I’ll thank you to remember who taught you to control your own mind.”

Leia stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath. “That was uncalled for.”

“You’re not the child you appear to be,” Ahsoka reminds her, not a little sharply. “You want to dish it out, be ready to take it. What will you do when we see Bail Organa? When we see the toddler that is Anakin Skywalker?”

“I get it.”

“I’m not sure you do,” Ahsoka mutters. She isn’t surprised when Leia ducks out of the embrace and leaves the galley. She lets the girl go, guilt warring with the memory of how Master Kenobi had more than once spoken that way to Anakin at the height of the war. The fact that she’s an adult in the body of a child isn’t an excuse for poking at Ahsoka’s open wounds. It was cruel and unnecessary, and unbecoming of a... not a Jedi. A princess. A politician.

She rests her head on her arms and zones out. She should meditate, but that seems like... too much effort.

She can feel Vos and Tholme setting up in the room they’ve been assigned. Neither seems particularly angry. Most likely, Tholme’s given the absolute shortest explanation of ‘child soldier, dead master, highly traumatized and emotionally unstable’ to Vos to smooth over the incident in the cargo hold. Rex is with Leia; he’s agitated, but less so than Leia herself. Fett’s annoyed, in the cockpit, but he seems annoyed as often as not. There’s a shudder at lift-off, and a few minutes later, they’re in hyperspace, headed for the Core.

Fett finds her, falls into the other bench in full armor, and drops his elbows onto the table. The helmet clunks down a moment later.

She doesn’t lift her head. “What do you want?”

“Do I need to keep Vos away from you?”

“What?”

“Vos. He made you uncomfortable. Was that him being someone that hurt you in the future, or just the interaction being awkward?”

She lifts her head. She stares at him. “What?”

He leans back and crosses his arms. “Do you need me to tell Vos to stay the hell away from you?”

She’s gaping. “You realize I’m thirty-two, right? I can handle my own battles.”

“You’re also traumatized as hell and everyone can see it,” Fett argues back. “If Vos himself is a trigger, I can handle it.”

“He’s not,” she tells him. This is strange. Fett’s being strange. “He was actually a friend of my grandmaster’s. I’m just uncomfortable with the flirting because I’m a lot older than he realizes, and I can’t tell him that.”

He nods sharply, and then looks away. The silence sits.

“Thanks for asking?” Ahsoka says, well aware of how her confusion over the offer turns it into a question. “I mean, thank you for... caring.”

I guess, she finishes in the privacy of her own head. Or at least pretending to.

Fett makes a face, still not facing her. He eyes the galley instead. She can guess where his thoughts are going. The galley is... not very big, especially with six people on board instead of one, but she’s sure they’ve stocked up enough. On the off chance they do go through more than expected, because of how many growing bodies are in residence, they can stop off and buy more. They have those resources now.

Jango never does ask what she did with the slavers.

“Who’s going to cry if I spice things properly?” he asks.

“Probably Leia,” she says immediately. “Vos will try to power through it even though he’s going to be overwhelmed. No idea about Tholme, but I think he’ll keep a straight face whether he likes it or not. Rex and I are fine, ‘hot’ was pretty much the only flavor of seasoning the GAR had.”

“GAR?”

“Grand Army of the Republic.”

He finally looks at her.

“You already knew I was a child soldier, Fett; don’t act surprised.”

“That doesn’t mean I like hearing about it.”

“I was fourteen. That’s old enough by Mando standards, Fett. Just think back, when did you get on the battlefield?”

“I take your point,” he says, lip curling unpleasantly. “It just hits different now that I’m old enough to look back and think of how damned young fourteen really is.”

Ahsoka shrugs. “Yeah, well--”

“You said the clones were ten.”

There’s the rub, isn’t it?

Of course it was about the clones.

“...closer to seven, by the end. Kamino was just making speedies at that point. Triple growth on the average instead of double, but averages in that case meant they’d been growing at double rates for six years and then got forced through four growth cycles in a single year to beef up the army when we kept losing men.” She looks down at the table, picking at a scratch in the plastipaint with her nail. “Rex and the rest of the ones from the beginning were basically twenty in mind and body, even if they’d only been decanted ten years earlier. The speedies... I always wondered. They’d gone from functionally twelve to functionally twenty in a year. That’s not... even in Kamino, that can’t have been normal. They didn’t act like adults, not the way the originals did.”

Fett rubs at his face, groaning. He swears under his breath in three different languages.

She pities him, if only because he hasn’t actually done any of this yet. He’s paying for the crimes of a man he likely won’t ever become.

She kicks him under the table. “Wanna make tiingilar and see how long it takes Vos to start crying while he insists it’s fine?”

---------------------------

Dinner is when the questions start. Some are relatively easy. Others, not so much.

“My Master was Leia’s biological father,” is an easy truth to share. “She inherited his power, so I need to get her to the temple for her own safety, because home no longer is.”

“Yes, her adoptive parents were unfortunately killed rather recently. We’d prefer not to talk about it.”

“Rex is with me. Where he goes, I go, and vice versa.”

That one gets her an odd look.

“I thought...” Quinlan trails off, gesturing between Rex and Fett.

Fett keeps his face impassive, but his discomfort and guilt leak into the Force. “I didn’t know Rex existed until I ran into these three in a spaceport cantina a few weeks ago.”

Quinlan blinks at him, looks at Rex again, and then turns back to Fett with a grin that might have been described as ‘saucy’ if he were less smug about it. “Wild oats, huh?”

“Are you shitting me right now,” Leia whispers, and Ahsoka elbows her.

“That was inappropriate, padawan.”

Quinlan’s grin fades as Fett just continues to eye him.

“Um, so--”

“How old is the kid?” Fett interrupts.

Darting eyes answer him, as Quinlan tries to gauge Rex. “Ten? Maybe twelve?”

“And how old am I?”

“...early thirties?”

“I’m twenty-seven.”

Quinlan’s grin fades further as he does the math.

“I’d have been between fifteen and seventeen when he was born,” Fett says, tone flat. “Between fourteen and sixteen at conception. I know damn well I wasn’t doing anything that could have resulted in a kid at that age.”

Quinlan rallies. “So, brothers?”

Tholme sighs loudly, hand over his eyes.

“I’m a clone,” Rex says, and Ahsoka can feel the amusement he gets out of Quinlan’s confused shock. They’d both had plenty of respect for Master Vos, but Padawan Vos was nothing but trouble. “Harvested genetic material, grown in a tube, inconsistent aging meaning I don’t even know how old I am for sure.”

“I broke him out,” Ahsoka adds, which is half true.

“There was a chip in my head,” Rex adds, with a bright smile. Quinlan’s discomfort grows. “She got it out. Also, lots of brothers. None of them are... around anymore. The creators were trying to make an army.”

Vos and Tholme have no response. Fett looks like he’s been carved out of stone. Leia’s just ignoring them and picking at her food.

Ahsoka lifts a hand and, without looking, Rex high-fives her.

---------------------------

“Drop your elbow.”

Ahsoka tries to cover her smile at the dirty look that Leia shoots Fett. Fett remains unimpressed by the glare of royalty, just gestures for the girl to do as he said.

“I know how to fight,” Leia grumbles. “I took lessons. I was good at them.”

“And I’m better,” Fett says, leaving no room for argument. “You want the Torrents to take over?”

The Torrents. Rex and Soka. She likes being referred to that way. Like they’re a team that never got split up.

Force, she wished they’d never gotten split up.

“Again,” Fett orders, and Leia moves through the Mandalorian kata with ill grace in her emotions and all grace in her sweeping limbs.

Well, as much grace as an undersized six-year-old can, at any rate.

“Think he’ll ask me to spar her again?” Rex asks, dropping down into the seat next to Ahsoka and passing her a drink.

“Maybe,” she acknowledges. “I think he’s wondering if it’s worth asking Vos to spar with her, so she gets more experience with size differences.”

“Hm?”

“She flinched at his face again,” she tells him. “The whole... thing with Boba, I guess. She still won’t tell me why Fett triggers her sometimes, but he’s not pressing her to spar with him, and there’s only so much she can get out of fighting me. Asking Tholme would be presumptuous, but Vos is just a padawan. I think it’d work out.”

“And you?”

She looks at him, already feeling a cresting wave of bullshit she doesn’t want to deal with. “What about me?”

“Are you going to spar with the Jedi?”

She should. She hasn’t sparred with a saber since she got tossed back into a body only half-familiar to her. She’s let Leia borrow the shorter one to learn some basic blocking moves, Shii-Cho and then, with hesitance, the first Soresu form. Another time, she loaned it to Rex to practice some attacks; they both know that the next time he picks up her saber in battle, having lost his weapons or she her grip, it will be neither the first or last time he wields a sword of light. None of that, however, is... sparring.

None of that is against someone who knows what they’re doing.

How long has it been since she sparred with anyone other than Kanan and Ezra?

How long has it been since she sparred without the looming specter of Darth Vader in the back of her mind, without fear of the Inquisitors, without the knowledge that any saber held by someone other than her two friends would be red as blood and twice as drenched.

Would she be able to hold back as she fought?

“I should,” she acknowledges, eyes on where Fett is nudging Leia’s feet into position for some kind of leveraging flip. She’s so small. “It would probably be a good idea to spar against a master at some point.”

“Do you think you can?” Rex asks.

“I never knew him,” she says. “And he isn’t Dark. It should be fine.”

Rex nods, taking her word for it. They watch as Leia stumbles on a final move, and Fett gestures for her to sit down and get a drink.

“That man is a terror,” she informs them.

(She’d once described him as a slave-driver. She had not made that mistake twice.)

“Least it’s not Kamino!” Rex tells her cheerfully. When Leia refuses to look impressed, he laughs at her.

Ahsoka has a half-second’s warning before heavy boots thud to the ground next to her. “What’s Kamino?”

“Hello, Vos, it’s nice to see you too,” she drawls. “I’m good, thanks for asking, and yourself?”

The boy-not-quite-man rolls his eyes. “Hi, Torrents; hi, tiny one.”

Leia glares at him next.

“So, Kamino?”

“Planet by Rishi,” Rex says.

“Why were you there?”

“They specialize in cloning.”

Ahsoka covers her mouth as the conversation drops into the same awkward gap that always happens when Quinlan stumbles into a subject he didn’t know to avoid.

“Like... you were made there, or you were researching how it works for your own--”

Ahsoka slaps a hand over his mouth. “Now’s a great time to stop talking.”

He licks her palm.

She bares her teeth and arches her fingers just enough to press nails into his cheek.

He bites at her palm, and she yanks her hand away.

“You’re all children,” Leia accuses, conveniently forgetting that Ahsoka and Rex are both over a decade older than her.

“I can throw you the length of a swimming pool,” Ahsoka tells her. “One of the fancy competition-ready ones that would make a Tatooinian cry. You are absolutely the child here.”

“Using the Force is cheating, sir,” Rex informs her.

“Only if there’s a competition,” Ahsoka shoots back. “And proving that a certain princess is a small child is not a competition. It’s a declarative fact.”

“I’m going to rip open the seams on all your tops except the ugliest one,” Leia decides.

“Try me,” Ahsoka challenges. “Adi’ka.”

A low, rough cough interrupts them. “Are you done?”

Fett has his arms crossed, and an eyebrow raised. He knows they’re all adults here, and is entirely unamused. As the silence drags, the eyebrow climbs a little higher.

“Done with what?” Quinlan finally asks, thereby volunteering himself to spar in hand-to-hand with Jango Fett, as one does.

“Poor, poor Vos,” Rex laughs, watching as Fett barks out orders at Quinlan every five seconds to fix his footwork, to stop dropping his guard, to stop wasting energy on flips instead of just dodging the easy way.

“Throw him!” Ahsoka calls. To her delight, Fett obliges.

The thing is, Quinlan isn’t bad at brawling. He’s got training, endurance, skill. The man knows what he’s doing, objectively. He’s just not a match for Fett, and is used enough to relying on his saber that his hand-to-hand skills are rusty. They are perhaps less rusty than those Jedi who don’t take questionable jobs in the Mid-Outer Rim, and Ahsoka’s got a suspicion that Vos regularly gets into bar fights in his downtime, but none of that is enough for him to actually do more than survive against Fett without his saber.

Even the saber wouldn’t help, if Fett had his armor.

“Whose idea was this?”

Ahsoka cranes her head back and smiles. “Hello, Master Tholme. Vos... volunteered.”

“Did he know he was volunteering?”

“No comment.”

Tholme snorts, crossing his arms and eyeing the spar in front of him. “I thought Fett hated Jedi. Giving us a ride for the sake of you three is one thing, but why is he teaching my padawan?”

Ahsoka shrugs. “Constructive bullying?”

There’s a small twitch of a smile, quickly gone. “He said something wrong, I’m guessing?”

“There was no way he could have known,” she dismisses. “We’re just, like, ninety-percent tragic backstories.”

“You’d think the Force would warn him,” Rex notes.

“That’s not how the Force works,” Leia chides.

“No, no, he’s right,” Ahsoka corrects. “The Force does sometimes step in to stop a person from saying something stupid. However, Padawan Vos is at an age where people think they are very rational while being more irrational than they likely ever will be again.”

“Do I want to ask what you were doing at that age?” Tholme asks.

“Running bla...” she trails off, then whips around to gape at him.

He smiles, bland and unassuming. “Does Fett know?”

“Know... what?” Ahsoka asks.

“That you’re significantly older than you look,” he says, voice just low enough that the sparring duo can’t hear him. “All three of you.”

Ahsoka turns back to the spar, only catching Tholme out of the corner of her eye. “He knows.”

“Mm. Were you planning on telling the Council?”

“Yes.” That part was never in question. “How did you figure it out?”

“I am a good investigator,” he says. “And you rely a little too heavily on your physical forms to obfuscate. Were it just one of you, that wouldn’t be a problem, but the pattern repeated across three is a little easier to discern.”

“I hoped the whole ‘child soldiers’ thing would be a bigger distraction,” Ahsoka mutters. She glances at Leia and Rex. Both of them are used to being in charge to some degree, giving orders and making contingency plans, but in this... in this, Ahsoka is in charge. They’d decided that at the very start. It didn’t matter that Rex had lived longer and had more experience, or that Leia had held the highest Rebellion rank of the three of them. Ahsoka had been agreed as leader, and they were relying on her.

They’re waiting on her orders. Stiff and unhappy, in Leia’s case, but they trust her.

“Will you be telling Vos?” She asks.

“No,” Tholme says. “Your secrets remain your own unless they endanger us, and I’ve a feeling they won’t be.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Rex jokes, smile not reaching his eyes. “I’ve been working with this family for too long to trust that trouble won’t find them around the next corner.”

“This family?” Tholme repeats.

“Sokari was telling the truth about her master being Leia’s biological father,” Rex says. He shrugs. “I worked with him, with his wife, with both of his kids, with his master and his padawan. All of them, to a one, are trouble magnets.”

“Ah, but that’s not the secret that’s putting us in danger,” Tholme points out. “Simply existence as a Jedi.”

Rex shrugs. “Fair enough. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”

Ahsoka lurches to her feet, turning with a smile and dancing backward into the the stretch of empty cargo hold they used for such things. “A spar, Master Tholme?”

He looks past her, to Quinlan, and raises a brow. “Would you not prefer to spar with someone a little closer to your level first?”

She barks out a laugh. “Master Tholme, I’m afraid I’ve spent more of my life fighting to survive than having normal friendly spars. My style is more lethal than the average, and you’ve already seen what war’s done to my mind. I ask to spar with you because, if I lose control, if I slip in time or react on an instinct that isn’t appropriate, I trust that you’ll be more able to stop me than a senior padawan.”

He smiles. “Yes, I gathered as much. Still, better to ask. Shall we wait for them to finish up?”

Ahsoka shrugs, turns, and yells. “Clear the deck!”

Rex snorts behind her, and lowly mutters, “Sir, yes, sir.”

She smirks at him over her shoulder. “At ease, Captain.”

“That’s ‘Commander’ to you, I got promoted,” he sniffs, chin held high.

Heavy steps herald Fett’s arrival at their little group. “The hells are you doing?”

“I’m going to have a spar with a Jedi Master, and I want you and Vos to not get stabbed.”

“I’m not that easy to injure in an actual fight, let alone by accident,” Fett grouses. He looks up and over at Vos, who is already significantly taller, if a fair shot less built. “This one, on the other hand...”

“Hey!”

Ahsoka laughs and backs into the center of the cargo hold, drawing her sabers. “Don’t worry, Vos, I won’t play dirty. You’ll probably get your master back in one piece.”

He wrinkles his nose at her. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, aren’t you? He’s a Jedi Master and former Watchman. You’re... what, eighteen?”

Ahsoka raises a brow and activates her sabers, tapping the blades together and watching as more than one person winces. “Wanna bet on how long I last?”

“No,” he says immediately, stepping back to join Rex on the bench. “You’ve already blindsided me enough. I’m not dumb enough to fall for whatever you’ve got up your sleeve.”

“I don’t have sleeves.”

“Armwarmers-slash-greaves, then.”

“Greaves go on the legs, these are vambraces.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “I’m just going to stop talking now!”

“Good plan,” Leia snarks, and then literally hisses when Rex ruffles her hair.

Tholme lights his saber and sinks into an opening stance.

Ahsoka mirrors him.

---------------------------

She wins, but barely. She's had a few weeks to practice her forms, has sparred hands-only with Rex and Fett, but this is her first real try at using her sabers against a person, instead of a blaster or thin air, since she arrived in the past. She’s only mostly adjusted to her body.

But Tholme is a healer and a watchman, not a duelist. Ahsoka held her own against Ventress, against Grievous, against Maul when she was this age. Still adjusting to her body or not, her lineage is one of battle, and it bled true.

“You’re terrifying,” Quinlan tells her after they’re done, smiling like the sun as he hands her a towel. “Please never turn that on me.”

She laughs at him. “Would you believe that I’m out of practice?”

“Out of practice with what?” he asks, horrified and fascinated. “Fighting Sith Lords?”

“Among other things,” she says, and smirks when he chokes on his drink. “Multiple darkside users who claimed to be Sith, at least. One being a full Lord, one that was disowned by his master, and one that was apprenticed to a Banite apprentice, so she wasn’t technically allowed to be a Darth because of the rule of two.”

Tholme meets her eyes past Quinlan’s shoulder, head tilted and eyes half-shut in consideration. He’s taking her seriously. He knows what she’s not saying.

“How...” Quinlan trails off and shakes his head. “You know what, no. Asking you people questions never ends well.”

“Good plan,” Ahsoka says, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. “Also, you need to spar with Fett more. Your footwork is shit.”

“It is not,” Quinlan gripes. “You’re all just scary good at this stuff.”

“You mean surviving?” Leia pipes up, and smiles innocently when Quinlan turns to pout at her.

“You’re getting bullied by a six-year-old,” Rex informs him.

“Yeah,” Quinlan sighs. “I know.”

Ahsoka laughs, and it’s fine. It’s all fine. For a week, everything is honestly great. She trains, she laughs, she works through the nightmares.

Then fucking Denon happens.

---------------------------

Denon is a city-planet on the intersection of two major hyperlanes. It’s the kind of place where they stop for two things:

Fuel.

Paperwork.

Technically, there’s a whole mess of paperwork they have to fill out to continue along this specific hyperlane, since they aren’t official Republic ships, and don’t have the licenses to just pass along like ships that are pre-registered to the Trade Federation or the like. They could sneak past--literally all of them know smuggler’s routes--but it’s honestly less of a pain to do things legally. They have a Jedi Master. They have cash. Some of that cash wasn’t quite legally acquired, but nobody needs to know that.

It’s supposed to be a pit stop. That’s all.

It’s just a pit stop.

But no, the galaxy isn’t that kind and Ahsoka’s luck is currently being compounded with a Skywalker, two Fetts, and Vos, which means that of course they run into trouble. Of course they do. There was never any other option, was there?

“Motherfucker,” Ahsoka snaps, lifting her head up and slamming her drink on the table.

The glass is empty. That’s good. They’re in a restaurant right now, a little splurging after weeks with only each others’ company, and spilling the sugary child-friendly juice with that move would have drawn way too much attention from the servers.

“Language,” Tholme says, voice idly unconcerned.

“Sir?” Rex asks, kicking Ahsoka under the table. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wr--that jackass,” she hisses, getting to her feet. “Rex, grab a blaster, I’ve got shebs to kick.”

“Okay,” Rex says, grabbing one out of Fett’s holster and scooting out of the booth before anyone can tell him not to. “Whose?”

“I didn’t even know that he was... osik, I don’t have jurisdiction,” she realizes. “I don’t have any record of wrongdoing. I can’t arrest him since we don’t have evidence of criminal wrongdoing...”

“Are you two going to explain what’s going on?” Vos asks. “Or sit down, maybe?”

Ahsoka makes her decision. She eyes the window--the restaurant in question is a little dingy, but it’s also several dozen stories in the air. “Rex, remember the thing we did on Geonosis that you hated?”

He pauses, and then sighs heavily. “Yes, sir. I remember the... yeeting.”

Hah. That slang doesn’t even exist yet.

“Great. With me!”

It’s a good thing the windows are forcefields instead of transparisteel. A bit of a twist to the energy and they’re gone.

She only hears a little screaming before the wind tears all noises away while they plummet.

They land lightly--of course--and Ahsoka wraps them both in a don’t notice me aura. Nobody even notices that they’ve just come from above. It’s great that she can just Do These Things again, and get brushed off as Weird Jedi Shit, instead of worrying about the Empire. She’s missed being able to jump out of windows without fear.

Rex follows her as she starts running through the city. They don’t have comms, and he’s still so small, which means he can’t keep up with her even if she runs at normal speeds without Force enhancement.

“Should you carry me?” he asks, before she can figure out if it’s worth suggesting. She did it a few times before they joined up with Jango.

“It’s not... urgent, I think,” she says. She hesitates to speak, even as she keeps jogging with Rex at her heels. “Honestly, I’m trying to figure out if there’s anything I can ding him for so we can attack him. It’s all well and good that I can beat him right now, but all the crimes I know about haven’t happened yet, so it wouldn’t be legal...”

“Commander?”

“Hm?”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

She scrolls the conversation back mentally, considers, and says, “Oh.”

“Who’s getting steamrolled?”

“Uh, Maul’s here,” Ahsoka admits.

“Ah,” Rex says. He makes a face. “I understand the desire to jump out a window, now. I don’t agree with it, but I understand.”

Ahsoka laughs. “I mean, I just... every time I’ve seen him for almost twenty years, it’s been like... on sight, you know? We’ve never not attacked each other, except when I needed him to cause problems on Mandalore. But I always knew I was in the right, then.”

“So... what do we arrest him for?” Rex prompts.

“Um... carrying a lightsaber without a license?” she hazards. “We’ll need Tholme there. Hopefully I can just shout at him and he’ll attack me, but I think he only went full nutjob after Master Kenobi cut his legs off. He might be too controlled to try to kill me just for yelling at him.”

“...do we have to stalk him?” Rex asks, sounding like he’d most likely sigh if he weren’t mid-run.

She scoops him up and swings him around onto her back before she answers. “I think we have to stalk him, Rex’ika.”

“Don’t call me that.”

---------------------------

Maul is... exceptionally sneaky, actually. Either that, or he hasn’t done anything wrong yet. Ahsoka’s betting on the former, because she’s seen this particular skocha kung take over a planet before anyone realized he was the most dangerous person around.

Or maybe he’s just not committing crimes, and is in fact just here to buy groceries.

He’s examining a papaya.

She fantasizes about jumping across the market and greeting him with a heel to the cheekbone.

“Are you imagining a flying kick, Sir?”

“Yeah...”

“He’s examining a papaya, Sir.”

“I know...”

“Does he know we’re here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Do you think I should go hit him?”

“No.”

“Should I hit on him?”

“No, Sir. I would not advise that.”

“He’s looking at the neloms.”

“I can see that.”

“Why does he have to be so bo--did he just fucking bite a nelom?”

“It appears so, Sir.”

“Like... like rind and all. Just bit the little fucker.”

“Seems it.”

A scuff of metal. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

Ahsoka tips her head around to peer through the grate. “We’re spying, Fett, what does it look like we’re doing?”

Rex cranes his head. “We’re hanging upside-down from a fire escape to get a look at a suspected Sith Apprentice that is currently shopping for various fruits, Mand’alor.”

Ahsoka waves. “Hi, Master Tholme.”

“Sokari,” the master greets. “This seems a very conspicuous way to spy.”

She shrugs as well as she can from this angle. “Yes, but you see, this way’s more fun.”

“Is it now.”

Rex shifted. “He’s on the move!”

“To kill someone?!”

“No, to the deli meats.”

“Kriff.”

---------------------------

Apparently, Tholme and Fett had told Quinlan to take care of Leia, as Leia had wanted to finish her juice and refused to get involved in the Torrents’ nonsense. According to her, if they couldn’t be bothered to explain the nonsense, they didn’t need her.

This was true and accurate.

Quinlan shows up while they’re still stalking Maul, having moved to a low rooftop for a decent vantage point with less likelihood of being spotted. He’s giving Leia an eopie-back ride, and the pout on her face at needing it is adorable. She pouts harder when she sees them.

“Are you even trying to hide?” Leia scoffs.

“Not really,” Ahsoka admits. She’s got Fett’s binoculars out. “I’m not sure he’s caught wind of the fact that we’re here yet.”

“Or he has and he’s just biding his time to escape while we’re distracted,” Tholme points out.

“Meh,” Ahsoka says, avidly devouring the visual that is a teenage Maul glaring at leafy vegetables. “I just want him to do something so I have an excuse to beat his ass.”

“Do I get to know who?” Quinlan asks, setting Leia down on the roof. “Or are we going to keep being completely unwilling to share information?”

“Baby Sith Lord,” Ahsoka says. “He’s fifteen. A child.”

“A baby,” Rex agrees.

“You’re... that’s... ugh,” Quinlan groans as loudly and as dramatically as he dares, flopping down to the rooftop. “Master Tholme, please tell me this isn’t a real Sith.”

“He’s Dark,” Tholme confirms. “Sith is... up for debate until we have evidence.”

“He’s a bitch is what he is,” Ahsoka mutters. She observes the teenager in question stop to poke at some pink tomatoes. “E chu ta, break the law, already!”

“Does he have a lightsaber?” Quinlan asks. “If he has a lightsaber and no Jedi ID or specialty license, we can probably arrest him.”

“Auntie Soka doesn’t have a license or ID,” Leia points out.

“She’s got a Jedi escort,” Tholme says. “And if our supposed Sith is polite and plays nice, we can probably escort him to the Temple as well.”

Rex snorts derisively.

“Do you know why he’s on Denon?” Fett asks.

“No clue,” Ahsoka admits. “Evil reasons, probably.”

“You’re useless,” Leia tells her.

“Thanks, princess, how’s that attempt to open the jam jar by yourself coming?”

Leia says something very inappropriate for a princess, for a child, and for a lady. It’s fairly appropriate for a soldier, which is admittedly what she’s been for a few years now. Ahsoka sticks her tongue out at the girl like the mature operative she is.

“I wish we could still get him to lose his osik by just showing up and insulting him,” Rex mutters, low enough that Quinlan probably can’t hear.

“I wanna punch him in the face,” Ahsoka confesses. “I want him to try to punch me in the face, and fail.”

“Don’t bully the baby Sith,” Rex admonishes.

“He’s a Sith.”

“He’s fifteen, it’s tacky.”

“But it’s Maul.”

“I know, but you’re tw--significantly older than him.”

“But... but it’s the motherfucker himself.”

“...you can bully him a little, but only because he’s a Sith.”

Fett steals the binoculars. “You can borrow them again when you stop acting like children.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Rex says, dry as Ryloth. “I’m ten.”

“Pretty tall for your age,” Ahsoka mutters, and then giggles.

“Don’t steal my jokes,” Rex says. He elbows her, hard.

“You know,” Quinlan says, slow and tired. “Master Tholme and I are trained investigators.”

Ahsoka and Rex look at each other, and then up at him.

“Okay?”

“...do you want me to find actual evidence of this guy doing something criminal?”

“Oh, yes please.”

---------------------------

Quinlan, as it turns out, is not overselling his skills. He does catch Maul doing something illegal later that day. It’s a little more ‘stealing corporate secrets in the dead of night’ and less ‘torturing people for kicks,’ but it’s still enough to legally arrest him. Quinlan attempts to do so.

Quinlan does not succeed, and is forced to jump out a window to avoid getting cut in half. Maul follows, steals a passing speeder by throwing out the driver, and takes off. Someone--looks like Tholme--drops back to save the driver, but the rest of them give chase. Ahsoka gleefully takes point on that, of course. She’s the best pilot.

(Rex looks bored, but someone is likely to puke by the end of the night. She hopes it’s not Leia, who insisted on coming for some fucking reason.)

“How the kriff is a teenager that good?!” Quinlan yells, clinging to the edge of the speeder to avoid getting tipped out as Ahsoka swerves around a corner with a wild laugh.

“He’s a Sith!” Leia shouts over the wind. “What do you think?”

Quinlan is not impressed by the claim of Sith.

Ahsoka screeches as she drifts across four lanes of traffic and into an alleyway to pursue Maul. He’s pretty good at dodging cross-building walkways, but she’s better. She bares her teeth, hissing, and tries to pick a plan.

“Vos, how’s your aim with Force throws?” She calls to the backseat.

“Uh, decent?”

“Great! Fett’s the projectile!”

Vos takes a second longer to process that than Jango does.

“I’m wh--”

He cuts off, screaming, and is flung forward by Quinlan to crash headfirst into a teenage Sith.

“Take the wheel!” Ahsoka commands, not waiting to see who follows the order, because Fett and Maul are both getting to their feet, the other speeder is about to crash, and she’s not sure who’s going to win that fight.

She jumps from the speeder they’ve been violently dragging around Denon, and lands feet-first on Maul’s... shoulder.

Hm.

That definitely dislocated something.

“You should wear armor!” she chirps at him, drawing both sabers and grinning as he whirls to face her, eyes wide with hate.

He’s utterly silent.

That’s disturbing. Expected, but disturbing.

“Did you just throw me?” Fett demands, higher pitched than she’d normally expect.

“No, Vos threw you.”

“Because you told him to!”

“Yeah, it’s a good strategy!”

“It is not!”

“Why not? Throwing people was standard practice in the GAR.”

She can’t see his face, but she’s pretty sure he’s about ready to strangle her.

Ahsoka cannot, at that point, continue snarking with the father of her best friend, because there’s a red lightsaber coming for her throat, and she should probably worry about that. Maul’s very good at killing people and she’d like to avoid becoming part of that statistic.

As she is quickly reminded, he is... fifteen. And shorter than she’s used to. And already injured.

It’s really, really easy to take him out, actually.

At some point, the other speeder was safely recovered before it caused property damage, and their own is landing a few meters away with Vos and the kids.

“You have Force-negating cuffs, right?” Ahsoka asks.

“No, Master Tholme has them.”

“Oh,” she says, and grimaces. “I guess I’ll just... keep sitting on him then.”

Maul snarls, and she raps him on the skull. “Stop that, it’s uncivilized.”

Rex snorts.

Jango makes a noise that is incredibly frustrated with the lot of them, and turns on Rex. “Was she telling the truth?”

“About?”

“Throwing people being standard practice for the GAR.”

Rex’s face goes pained. “It was in the five-oh-first. And a few others.”

“What’s the GAR?” Quinlan asks.

“None of your damn business,” Fett snaps.

Quinlan throws his hands up in the air again. “Come on! I just proved I know what I’m doing!”

“And their tragic backstory is none of your business, prudii!”

Quinlan blinks at him, and then glances at Ahsoka. “Um.”

“He called you a shadow since your training, um, seems to be pointing in that direction,” she says as carefully as she can. “We were theorizing.”

“Wh... you actually paid attention?” Quinlan asks, looking horribly confused. “I thought I was just annoying you.”

Ahsoka laughs at him. “Oh, Vos... I’ve been running black ops for... much longer than most would guess. Trust me, I know another spy when I see them.”

She smiles as kindly as she can, because she hadn’t actually meant to make him feel left out or unwanted or... well, she’d been pretty patronizing, especially for someone seemingly younger than him. The smile does not work. Quinlan just looks kind of horrified about how young she just implied she started spy work.

Granted, she’d been sixteen for Zygerria...

Deciding to ignore him for a bit, she shifts on Maul’s back and pats him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Baby Sith. We’re going to get you lots of nice therapy. Mind healers, no Sith tortures, all that fun stuff. Maybe some plushies.”

“You’re also getting therapy, right?” Quinlan asks. “Please say you are. I’m required for the specifics of my training and if anything you’ve said is true, I feel like you really need it and I’m scared of what’ll happen if you don’t.”

Ahsoka laughs, knowing exactly how empty it sounds. “Oh hell, if I didn’t get therapy, I imagine Kix would rise from the grave to force me into it.”

The name means nothing to anyone except Rex, and... ah, yeah, she told Fett about Kix a few weeks ago.

“No more throwing me without warning,” Fett grumbles, dropping to sit on the ground next to her. “Especially not at baby Sith Lords.”

“I am not a child!” Maul spits.

“He speaks!” Ahsoka cheers. “Aw, I knew you could do it.”

“’Soka, I told you not to bully him,” Rex complains. “It’s tacky. You’re being tacky.”

“I’m allowed to be tacky,” Ahsoka declares. “I’ve died twice, that’s, like, permission from the universe.”

“You’ve died twice?” Quinlan asks, back in ‘fascinated horror’ territory. “Wait, no, I shouldn’t ask--”

“Too late! The first time was on a planet that doesn’t exist and my Master lost his mind, killed a god, and used the good favor of another god to have me brought back to life at her expense. Not in that order.”

“I--what? No, that’s--what?”

Ahsoka smiles brightly. “You asked.”

Tholme finally shows up with the cuffs.

---------------------------

“You should eat something.”

He glares at her.

“Baby Sith Lords need to eat.”

He keeps glaring at her.

“Maul, you’ll never get big and strong and ready to kill if you don’t eat your vegetables.”

He bares his teeth.

“No, I don’t eat my veggies, but I’m a Togruta, so if I eat too many vegetables I throw up.”

Rex kicks her thigh, right on the faulds. “What did I say about bullying the Sith Lord?”

“Not to.”

“And what are you doing?”

“Making him eat his vegetables.”

“Soka.”

“Rex’ika.”

He kicks at her again. “Get up, we’re swapping out the watch.”

“But I wanted to hang out with my favorite little criminal mastermind.”

Rex drops to the floor and presses his forehead to her shoulder. “How the hell is being around this guy the first thing to make you cheer up in weeks?”

“I’m allowed to be mean to him.”

“He’s going to bite you.”

“I’ll bite back.”

Rex jabs a finger into her ribs, and she squeaks. “Go get something to eat, Commander.”

“Fine,” she huffs, rolling to her feet and moseying along to the galley. She walks in on Tholme and Fett having an argument about the ways in which Jedi and Mandalorians differ. Quinlan’s on the side, watching with wide eyes, and little Leia’s drinking a juice box at his side, tucked up under his arm and occasionally saying things to fan the flames. Ahsoka assumes she’s enjoying herself.

She opens the cooling unit, looks over the contents, and pulls out a raw leg of eopie mutton. She leans against the counter, bites into the chilled-but-not-frozen meat, and uses the back of one hand to wipe the blood off her chin. The ‘real adults’ don’t notice.

“I’m like ninety percent sure you’re doing this to mess with me but also...” Quinlan trails off, staring at her with horror. “Why?”

“A girl’s gotta eat.”

“Yeah, but all the obligate carnivores I know are like... generally holding to basic rules of courtesy when it comes to not grossing people out,” Quinlan says. “Like, I don’t chew with my mouth open. You don’t... eat in the most intimidating--did you just crack the bone with your teeth?!”

Ahsoka smirks at him, using her free hand to take away the shard of bone so she can suck out the marrow without eating the bones themselves. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this isn’t polite society. We’re in a galley on a bounty hunter’s ship, and I’ve been living on the run or in an army for most of my life. Table manners are optional.”

“No, they’re not,” Leia orders. “Fett, it’s your ship, tell her to--”

“--and another thing!” Fett snaps at Tholme, clearly paying less than no attention to the food argument.

Ahsoka keeps on eating, trying to catch wind of where the discussion’s at. Mostly, it seems to be at ‘talking past each other.’ Neither of them seems to have fully grasped more than the absolute most basic parts of the other culture, and that’s only enough to insult each other, not actually have a constructive conversation. She’d have expected more out of Tholme, at least. He’s not exactly young.

“Hey, quick question,” she says, in a moment where both of them have paused for breath and the opportunity to seethe. “Fett, when’s the last time you worked with a Jedi, or any member of a Force-based religion, before I popped into your life?”

His nose scrunches up as he makes a face.

“And Tholme, when’s the last time you worked with anyone from the Mandalorian system?”

Tholme’s reaction isn’t any more gracious than Fett’s.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she says. “Vos, were either of them actually interested in that conversation, or just looking for an excuse to yell?”

“Now listen here, jetiika--”

“Fett,” she snaps. “I am not a child.”

“And neither am I,” he growls right back. “This is my ship, and I damn well don’t need you treating me like a misbehaving youngling. You’ve got a problem, you bring it to my face, not get all smug about people’s tempers blowing over.”

Well, then.

She smiles thinly. “Of course.”

He stands with his arms crossed, in full armor save for the helmet. She puts aside the eopie meat and wipes her hands, smiling until she can put her hands on her hips and let it drop to a challenge.

“You know, I’m just--I’m just gonna go,” Quinlan mutters, pulling Leia out with him, the girl hanging from under one of his arms. “This, uh, this looks like a problem for... you folks. Um. Yeah.”

He sidles out.

Tholme doesn’t.

Fett rubs at the bridge of his nose, and then gestures at the table. “Sit.”

“I’d prefer not to.”

He drops his hand and glares at her. “We have another week on this ship together. We are going to have this conversation. Sit.”

She sits, right on the warm spot left behind by Quinlan and Leia. She crosses her arms, lifts a brow, and waits.

Fett takes the seat across from her. Tholme leans against the counter.

“We all know you’re older than you look,” Fett says. “I heard Tholme mention it, I know that much has been shared. You’re acting like an actual teenager, and I’ve... I’ve put up with a lot. I am trying to keep things civil, particularly with you. I’ve tried to be friendly. You’ve been fucked up since we met, fine, everyone’s got trauma. The thing where you’ve started talking shit to our faces for what seems like your own amusement? That has to stop. You’re older than me, Torrent. Fucking act like it.”

She blinks at him, slow and not exactly happy, and turns to Tholme.

The man shrugs. “I was planning to put up with it until we arrived to the temple and handed you over to some mind healers. Fett doesn’t have that kind of time.”

There’s a curdle in her stomach, defensive and angry and guilty.

“You’ve been... a bitch,” Fett finally says. “You know that. I’m not going to mince words. You’ve been holier-than-thou and rude and condescending, and aiming that at Antilles is one thing, when you’ve apparently known her since she was a toddler and taught her things. Aiming at the rest of us isn’t going to fly. We’re all adults trying to share a space. Stop acting like... just like you have been.”

There is no defense to be made that they aren’t both already aware of.

She closes her eyes and tries to strangle the burst of irrational rage.

Their accusations aren’t unfounded.

They deserve an apology.

She is in the wrong.

She’s felt freer than she had in years, and in that freedom allowed herself too much rein, let herself lace her words with barbed wires and poison instead of sparks and spices, comments that were cruel instead of just joking. Too familiar. Too comfortable.

“My behavior’s been inappropriate,” she finally says, the words clumsy and too big in her mouth. “You’re right about that. I’m sorry, and I’ll endeavor to keep a tighter rein on my less pleasant behaviors in the future.”

At least she only lashes out with words. It could be worse.

She opens her eyes, fixes her gaze on the wall behind Fett, wrestles her expression into stiff neutrality. “Am I dismissed?”

“...uh, no, not after that,” Fett says, sounding just a little horrified. “What the hell was that?”

Tholme hisses out a breath. “Let her go.”

“No, this needs to be discussed, that’s not a healthy rea--”

“Fett, let her go,” Tholme insists, low and heavy.

Fett looks between the two for a moment, seems to come to a realization he doesn’t like, and then gestures almost violently towards the door. “Fine. Go.”

She walks out, doesn’t sprint. She’s stiff. She’s controlled. She’s the one that fucked up, so it’s fine if she doesn’t feel great right now. Getting called out on one’s own failings as a person isn’t something to get upset about if the failings are real. The feelings are real and normal, but this was her fault, and so it’s up to her to fix it, and she can’t let them know it hurt her, because this was her mistake.

She goes to the cargo hold.

---------------------------

Ahsoka works out her frustrations on Fett’s punching bag. She does not augment herself with the Force, just uses raw strength and technique, ignoring the tears that press at her eyes.

She’s fine.

It’s not weird. It’s not odd. It’s not strange to not notice she’s been kind of a bitch since her mood came up with the whole Depa thing, and then Maul. She’s been mean, mostly to Vos and Fett, and nobody’s confronted her about it until now. They let her have room for her trauma, and she hadn’t reined it in. She’s just gotten worse.

‘Snippy’ she’d always been, but age apparently hadn’t fucking tempered it.

“Um.”

She catches the punching bag, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. She hasn’t worked out all the twitchy, nervous energy yet.

“Vos,” she greets, once she’s caught herself enough that her voice won’t waver. He’s on the other side of the bag, but she knows his voice. “Do you need something?”

“You’re kind of... projecting,” he tells her, drifting to where she can actually see him. “Not self-loathing, but, um, recrimination? You just don’t feel very good and I was hoping to help”

Why in all the Sith hells does he have to be nice.

“I got called out on my behavior and wasn’t ready to face the fact that I’d kriffed up,” she tells him. “I’ll be fine. And I’m... sorry. I haven’t been fair to you and was using you as an easy target for some of my ruder comments.”

“I mean, I kind of figured,” he admits, coming closer. “I’ve been tutored by Shadows before, and a lot of them act like you. I just assumed it was more of that.”

“I still shouldn’t have let myself run loose like that,” she says. “I’m... it wasn’t appropriate. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

He shrugs, not meeting her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she says. “Not with... not with you. Or anyone other than Rex and a mind healer, really. Most of it is...”

She trails off, distantly noticing that her eyes are tearing up enough to blur her vision, and her nails are digging into the bag in a way Fett won’t appreciate.

There’s so much that beat her down, never quite breaking her, that she doesn’t even know what made her act the way she does.

“Want to spar?”

She looks over at him, wonders what he sees that makes him want to fight her when she’s visibly unstable.

He smiles, kind and easy, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s genuine in intent, if not in energy. He wants to help. “You all keep saying I could work on my hand-to-hand. Just take off the armor so I don’t break a finger, maybe.”

“You’re serious.”

“No, I’m Quinlan.”

She’s going to wipe the floor with this boy. “You sure you wanna fight me?”

“You won’t be able to meditate until you do,” he says. He’s right, damn him. “The other option is that I go get your... vod, I think? I go get Rex and you two can talk it out since you trust him with more. I don’t want to do that, though, he’s still a kid.”

She eyes him, lips pressed together and mind awhirl with emotions and thoughts she’d tried to beat out of her head and into the bag. “Ever fought someone without the Force?”

“...yes?”

“Was it cuffs?”

“Oh, you meant me not having the Force,” he realizes. “Er, no. Is... is that something you’ve done a lot?”

She smiles at him. “You’re planning on Shadow work. That means getting captured and stripped of everything you are at some point, Force included. Unfortunately, the cuffs are in use on a very annoying Dathomirian right now, so we’ll have to make do with you shielding like your mind’s a Kessel Spice Mine.”

“...do I want to know how often you’ve been captured?”

“No, you don’t.”

When he comes at her, it’s easy to dodge. It’s easy to tap him on target points, little pokes that show she could take him out, but isn’t going to until he’s learned something. He stays grinning throughout, letting her take the lead, and he treats her like... like a knight. Like a teacher. He’s stepped back and gone from trying to impress her as a fellow padawan, to proving himself to a full knight.

She’s not sure when that change happened, or why or how, but it makes things much smoother. She wants to think that it would have even if she hadn’t gotten a wakeup call from Fett.

So she treats him the way she treated Ezra, for the year she’d spent traveling with Kanan. She treats him as a student that’s willing to learn, good but not yet great, competent but not yet ready to survive. She draws him into the kind of chest-heaving exhaustion that tells a fighter just how much energy they waste.

(Ahsoka may have had her own style, but her grandmaster had been the pinnacle of a Soresu user. She’d spent years on the frontlines of a war. She knew the worth of conserving energy, and she’d teach it to any who stepped in to challenge her.)

“Who taught you to fight like this?” He asks, when they’ve taken a handful of moments to circle each other. His steps are heavy, sure, planted. Her own are light and ready.

“Soldiers,” she says. It’s true enough.

“Not your Master?” he asks, just as he tries to kick for her upper arm. It’s a safe question. For anyone else, it would be a safe question.

But for Ahsoka, it’s another chink in the armor, after a maelstrom of emotion, a storm of self-loathing, a dervish of instability.

She doesn’t break right away.

She spirals. She fights Quinlan, but doesn’t quite see him. Her strikes get sloppy, her feet stumble. She can’t make herself meet Quinlan’s eyes, not when the scrape of his heel against the metal sounds like the rasp of a breathing machine. Her shields get fuzzy, she knows, and she leaks what she feels into the air, making it sour and thick. She doesn’t notice, because all she can see, all she can--all she can hear and feel and--

She drops to her knees and grabs at her head, trying to stop it.

“Sokari?”

She breathes. In and out, harsh and jagged but natural in a way that the damned respirator wasn’t.

Her master her teacher her brother the traitor the hound the executioner

Her face is hot. Something prickles. It might be tears.

She tries to say something, tries to say a name or a request, tries to make anything come out of her mouth that isn’t the broken wail of a woman who hasn’t let herself think about how she died.

She feels herself pulled into someone’s arms, and she can’t quite tell who, but they’re bigger than she is, and feel warm and worried. They care. They don’t understand, they’re scared, but they care.

Her hands shake, clutched to her chest and she can’t breathe she can’t make herself take in enough air to do a Force-damned thing the empire is going to feel her her shields are down and broken and her emotions are spilling and the empire is going to find HER ANAKIN IS GOING TO FIND HER AND--

“COMMANDER!”

Rex.

Rex is here.

Her breath is coming so fast that she’s hiccupping more than she’s actually inhaling. She feels small hands in gloves on either side of her face, and then her forehead presses to something warm.

Rex. A Keldabe kiss. Her brother, her partner, her other half. He’s here. He’s calm. If he’s calm, then things are fine.

“What happened?” Light voice, high voice, small and distant. Leia. Little Leia little princess Leia she’s in danger she’s in trouble Anakin will--

“Commander.”

No. Here and now. She needs to focus on here and now. Her throat feels cold. She breathes too fast, still. She can’t stop it.

“I don’t know.” That’s Vos. He was... they were doing something. He was here. Talking to her. “We were sparring, and she just--”

Right, sparring.

“I don’t know if I said something?” He offers, voice pitching up, unsure and worried. Is he the one holding her? He’s the one holding her. That’s embarrassing.

“Commander?” Rex prompts. “Commander, can you open your eyes?”

She tries. She can’t. She shakes her head.

“Soka?” he asks, voice quiet. “Where are you?”

“F-F-Fett,” she manages. It’s enough.

“And where were you?”

His voice is so soft. So worried. She held him the same way after Mandalore, after Order 66, after all his brothers, all her friends...

“Soka.”

Her mind is spinning, and suddenly all she can hear is Anakin Skywalker is dead. I destroyed him.

Her breath hitches, and she wails.

“Commander,” Rex tries again, but her head is a vortex of Then you will die and Perhaps this child and not the Jedi way.

Our long awaited meeting.

I destroyed him.

Then you will die.

She can’t breathe she can’t breathe she can only see that yellow eye that’s too familiar but belongs to a stranger can only hear a voice that shouldn’t exist can only mourn and break and--

“Soka?”

“Malachor,” she manages. “I--h-he--I died.”

“What did you say?” someone asks. A vod. It’s the right voice, almost, rough and business-like, not accusing anyone yet, and... and... no. No. Not one of her boys. It’s Fett.

“Um, right at the end? I asked her who taught her to fight like this,” Quinlan says, nervous. “And she said it was soldiers. And I joked, I asked that it wasn’t her Master, and she didn’t answer that. A couple minutes later, she just started...”

“Oh, Soka,” Rex whispers, pulling her closer. “Commander, just breathe with me.”

“H-h-he, he just--R-Rex, he j-just--and I c-c-couldn’t--”

“I know,” her captain whispers. “I know, just breathe with me.”

“He k-k-k-killed me,” she sobs, falling out of the Keldabe and into too-small arms. “I l-loved--he was my broth-ther and--and he just--he killed me, he didn’t even stop.”

“I know,” Rex whispers. “Soka, I know.”

Of course he does.

---------------------------

“It was just bad timing,” Rex says, once they’re in the room she’s been sharing with her little family, curled up under a blanket and watching the floor like it has all the secrets to how she lost her world three times over.

“Is there anything we need to keep in mind?” Fett asks, gruff and uncomfortable. She wonders if he’s angry that she took his necessary confrontation and turned it into this mess.

“Don’t bring up her Jedi Master,” Rex says, and pulls her in when she shivers. Her eyes squeeze shut before she can stop them, tears beading up again. “Just... don’t. It’s too soon.”

“He’s--”

“He Fell,” Ahsoka interrupts. “I thought he died, but he became a Sith. And fifteen years later, we ran into each other, and I refused to join him in the Dark, so he tried to kill me.”

Fett swears, low and muffled. She thinks he has a hand over his mouth.

Quin and Leia aren’t there. She thinks they’re keeping an eye on their Baby Sith prisoner. That’s good.

“Soka,” Rex whispers, and she buries her face in his shoulder. She’s too old to be this kind of mess. She’s thirty-two. She’s Fulcrum. She’s...

She’s in need of a lot of therapy.

“We can avoid the subject unless you bring it up,” Tholme promises. “Definitely until the Temple. Is there anything else we shouldn’t talk about?”

Ahsoka can practically feel Rex’s deadpan look. “Sir, we’re a trio of child soldiers ripped from everything we know. Every other sentence is a risk. We’re just... working our way through.”

There’s a knock at the door. Oh. Quin and Leia.

“Just figured we’d drop this off before we went down to visit Mr. Grumpy-Face,” Quinlan whispers. He still thinks Leia’s a child. He’s trying to make things less terrible for her. That’s nice. “We decided he’ll be less angry if he tries Hoth chocolate, and made some for everyone.”

They definitely made it for Ahsoka herself, and Maul was an afterthought. Still. It’s sweet.

“Commander?” Rex prompts, jostling her a little to try and get her to sit up.

“Gimme a sec,” she manages. It takes longer than it should to push herself away from him, to accept the mug that Leia gives her, too-serious worry in the furrow of her brow and the twist of her soul.

She doesn’t look six. She doesn’t even look twenty-two. This girl was always too old for her skin, forced to grow up in the hostile fear of the Empire.

“Thank you, Princess.”

She sips.

She can barely taste it beyond the ashes she imagines coating her tongue.

I destroyed him, her memory echoes. His slightest hesitation before he made the final move, it haunts her. She almost reached him. If only she’d tried harder, yelled louder, been better...

She shivers.

“Do you need help falling asleep?” Tholme asks. “I’m a regular healer, not a mind healer, but...”

She probably should.

She takes another sip of her drink, willing herself to taste it. It’s good. She likes it. She knows she does.

“Can you make it dreamless?” she whispers.

“It doesn’t always work, but I can try,” he tells her.

She nods. “When I finish the chocolate.”

“Of course.”

---------------------------

Everyone’s careful around her for days. The whole decision to be nicer doesn’t mean anything when she’s walking about in a daze of too few emotions, drained of everything she could feel in favor of a grey cloud of fluff in everything she does.

She does forms. Single saber and Jar’kai. Ataru and Djem so and Soresu. Reverse grip, regular grip, partial reverse on either side.

Again. Again. Again.

She loses herself in the motions, not meditating so much as just empty.

Rex worries. Fett worries. Vos worries.

Leia and Tholme keep their shields locked up tight, and she doesn’t know how they feel. She thinks Leia might be judging her. She think Tholme might be pitying.

Maul simply hates. It’s an old and familiar sensation to walk into, and she takes unthinking comfort in his rage. She’s silent instead of snippy, when she plays the role of guard, and they stare at each other in silence. His eyes burn, and she wonders how much he’s heard of her nightmares.

“You need to talk,” Rex tells her, when he finds her with a cold cup of caff, eyes fixed somewhere beyond it all. She lifts her head. “Soka.”

She just stares at him.

He sighs and pulls her into a hug. “Commander, please.”

She can’t.

Ahsoka stares at the wall behind him, resting her chin on his head. Her neck itches under the lek at the back of her head, a little tingle of a feeling that she can’t bring herself to do anything about. The pale light of the galley is sharp against the chipped paint of the metal that surrounds them. It hurts her eyes to look, but it’s not the deep and dark lit only by red--

Then you will die, her memory growls.

She flinches.

“Breathe,” Rex tells her, too-small hands clinging at her back. “Just breathe, ‘Soka.”

She curls in tighter and tries to just breathe.

---------------------------

“Tell me something good.”

Ahsoka blinks. She looks at Leia. She doesn’t have the energy to parse that.

Leia chances a look at Rex, who isn’t leaving Ahsoka’s side any more than he has to, and Fett on the other side. Tholme’s asleep and Quin’s on Baby Sith duty. It’s just people who know, right now.

The little girl across the table, the child senator, the spy, purses her lips and huffs in irritation. “You knew my biological father before he became one of the worst people in the galaxy. Both of you did. Tell me something good about him.”

Good things.

About Anakin.

“You fought a war as a Jedi,” Leia prompts. “Surely you must have done some good things with him, or at least thought you were.”

Did they?

Every mission ended in tragedy or was just a ploy of Palpatine’s. Every saved life was just...

Wait.

“He built Threepio,” she finally says. “Your father wi--I mean, Bail wiped Threepio’s memory after the Empire rose, for your safety, but Anakin was the one who built him.”

Leia sits up, eyes brighter. “I didn’t know that. I... was Artoo involved? Did he build R2D2, or...”

“No,” Rex says, “But Artoo was his favorite astromech, and they always pushed each other into stupid stunts. We risked a hell of a lot to save that droid, more than once, and I didn’t find out until you started working with the Rebellion full-time, but Artoo and Threepio were the witnesses for your bio-parents’ wedding.”

Leia gapes at him. So does Ahsoka. (Fett doesn’t know enough to care.)

Rex grins, and if it looks a little forced, that’s fine. “He had a holo recording. I was one of the few people left that knew about the marriage that might have wanted to see, so Artoo offered. It was... sweet.”

He waits, probably for Ahsoka to add something herself, but she has nothing.

“I think that’s when they swapped droids, since Threepio was more useful to a politician and Artoo did his best work when we set him loose on the enemy.”

“He never changed,” Leia muses. “Did he always swear that much?”

“Yes,” Ahsoka answers, as Rex laughs. “Always. All the binary I learned started with the best swears.”

She tries to think of another good memory, something else that Leia might appreciate. Her mind ticks back to saving Stinky, which is just a terrible option, because that mission started with Hutts and ended with the Battle of Teth. That massive loss of life, all for the son of the creature that had put Leia in chains.

She wonders if she has anything in her memory that doesn’t end in blood and graves.

“Soka.” Rex.

“Hm?”

“Remember that time Fives and Echo got lost in the undercity their first time on leave, and we had to get the General to help us find them?”

She does.

He’s right, that’s a good story.

“Okay, so what you have to understand,” Ahsoka says, already digging the faint details out and dusting them off, “is that these boys were ARC troopers, top-notch, terrifyingly competent once they got through specialty training, and loyal as hell. Echo had memorized the reg manuals front to back, and Fives was... well, Fives ended up being the only person to figure out the chips before they went into action. Point is, the Domino twins were good... eventually. Just like everyone else, though, they started out shiny.”

---------------------------

“Tholme’s hiding something.”

Ahsoka wonders if Leia will just leave if she ignores her enough. Probably not. This was the girl that got kicked out of boarding school for leading a sit-in at age seven. She’s got patience.

“His job requires him to hide a lot of things,” Ahsoka says instead. “Not as many as Vos will have to, eventually, but a lot.”

“He’s hiding something from us,” Leia insists, visibly frustrated that Ahsoka isn’t as upset about this as she is. “Something important.”

The way she says ‘important’ is clumsy and impacted by the missing baby tooth. She can’t say the r. It comes out as ‘im-poh-ten,’ which is adorable, and if Ahsoka comments on it, she’s probably going to get punched by a six-year-old.

“The Force doesn’t care,” Ahsoka says. “I trust his intentions, if not him as a person.”

“If you don’t trust him, then why trust his intentions?”

“Leia, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I trust one and a half people in the galaxy,” Ahsoka points out. “Me not trusting a person isn’t a sign of anything except my paranoia. The only person I trust fully and without reservation is Rex. Even you, I only mostly trust, because my brain starts screaming if I think too hard. That’s why you’re the half.”

“Okay, whatever, paranoia aside,” Leia barrels on, “He should tell us. Whatever it is that he’s hiding, we deserve to know. We’re not children that he can just hide things from for our own good.”

Ahsoka presses her lips together. “Leia. Princess. I know you’re used to holding all the cards--”

“This isn’t about me being a control freak!”

“It is, though,” Ahsoka soothes, and smiles. “Your mother--the bio one--was the same way. You spent years as one of the leaders of the Rebellion, so obviously you’re used to having all the information, and people reporting to you... but Tholme is a Jedi Master. He reports to the Council and the Republic. Do you know how many people I kept secrets from while I was a padawan? We’re an unknown, Leia. They have no proof that we’re on their side, especially since we’re traveling with Fett.”

Leia crosses her arms and glares as hard as she can.

“I’m not going to bother him,” Ahsoka says. “I’ve already had, like, five unrelated mental breakdowns. I’m putting this on hold until we get to the Temple and I can trust that there’s a healer on hand to sedate me or something.”

“You... want to be sedated?”

“Leia, this... really should be obvious, but a Force-Sensitive losing their osik the way I have been isn’t actually safe. I know I broke a weapons rack last week.” Ahsoka gestures vaguely. “If the Jedi Master isn’t telling me something for reasons that might relate to my clear and obvious mental instability, I’m going to assume he’s got a point.”

“So he should tell me or Rex.”

“We’ll be on Coruscant in four days,” Ahsoka soothes. “Just... let it be. They won’t hurt us.”

“You don’t know that.”

Ahsoka shrugs. “I don’t have to. The Force leads me in all things, including this.”

Leia isn’t impressed by that, but Leia isn’t impressed by much in the first place.

She strides off in a fit that is, perhaps, more influenced by her six-year-old emotional control than she’d like to admit. Ahsoka lets her. It’s not worth the argument.

It’s only a few minutes later that Fett strides in, takes the seat Leia was just in, and asks, “What would it take for you to teach me how to use a jetii’kad?”

She blinks at him. “You want to learn how to use a lightsaber?”

“Yes.”

“...why?”

“Viszla.”

“I see.”

She does.

Ahsoka taps her fingers against the table, eyeing him with the kind of interest she copied from Master Kenobi, years ago. Fett doesn’t fidget, but she thinks he might want to. He just looks back, waiting for her judgement.

“You’ll need to justify it,” she finally says. “It’s a significant difference from what you actually did, so I need to know your reasoning for doing it, and your plans for once it’s done.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s step one,” she corrects. She tilts her head, considering. “My standards for you aren’t built in a vacuum, and you know that. Explain to me what you plan to do and how you plan to do it, and if I approve...”

“You’ll help me achieve it.”

“Maybe,” she allows. “A lot of that depends on Rex.”

“I expected as much,” Fett says. “He is... an admittedly large part of the reason.”

“He would be,” she says. She gives the silence a few more seconds to sit awkwardly between them, and then stands up. “I’d guess you’ve been brainstorming already. Do you have it written down or is it mostly just in your head so far?”

“I’m still... debating options, so to speak.”

She grins, and the shape of the predator’s smile, the baring of teeth... that almost makes him step back. She can see it in the twitch of his muscles. Smart man.

“Follow me,” she says, and doesn’t wait for him to stand. She strides out with tooka-light steps, hears the heavy beskar tread behind her, and goes to the cargo hold. Fett’s confusion grows tangibly behind her, especially when she tosses him a wooden quarterstaff. She picks up the other and spins it in one hand.

“You’re going to fight me,” she tells him, stretching and letting the staff help with the process. “And while we fight, you’re going to tell me what your plans for Mandalore are.”

He mimics her, but there’s a frown on his face. “And why staffs?”

“You and I, we’ve only sparred bare-handed,” she says. “I need a feel for how you fight with a weapon anyway. These are a good start.”

“Not the beskad?”

She grins, and the twitch is back. “No. That can wait. We start with the staffs.”

He takes a stance, and she mirrors him. She lets him strike first with a weapon, but she’s the one that asks all the questions.

(He is the only one on the ship that can fight her one-on-one right now, and he can win. Still, she makes him work for every inch, and what she doesn’t win in bruises, she wins in words.)

(Fett might yet be a proper Mand’alor, but Ahsoka learned war from her brothers, negotiation at the knee of a general and in the shadow of a prince, and government at the side of duchesses and queens.)

(If he wants her help uniting his people, he needs to prove that he can hold them together once she’s gone.)

---------------------------

Ahsoka’s interrogation of Jango’s plans is thorough, and she’s not the only one involved. She brings Leia in, and has her join in on the grilling. She maybe laughs as the twenty-seven-year-old survivor of Galidraan, the Mand’alor, a man who has killed Master Jedi with his bare hands, gets lectured on various government structures by a tiny girl that's missing several teeth and needs to sit on books to see the table properly.

Still, Leia knows this better than any of the rest of them do. The girl might have grown up heir to a monarchy, but she got a classical education and was drilled on democracy and all associated forms of government. Where Ahsoka knows military protocol and law enforcement, intersystem relations and defensive measures, Leia knows agricultural subsidies and welfare programs, infrastructure and education.

Ahsoka may know how to find out if someone’s breaking a zoning law, but Leia knows why it exists in the first place.

“And I grew up in a cult,” Rex says, when an argument on that topic breaks out. Everyone that hasn’t heard the joke-that-isn’t-a-joke stares at him. “The Jedi grew up in a religious meritocracy; Leia grew up in a monarchy; and I grew up in a cult.”

Ahsoka elbows him. He’s not wrong, but still.

Unfortunately, Ahsoka is about forty-seven percent sure that Leia will put her foot in her mouth when it comes to Mandalorian culture, blunt as the girl is. That prefrontal cortex isn’t anywhere near as developed as it should be, either, so impulse control for the princess isn’t great. Ahsoka refuses to let Leia and Fett talk about ways to mend the breaks between tradition and the pacifism of the New Mandalorians without either Rex or Ahsoka herself as a mediating presence. Tholme sits in a few times, but while he knows that Leia isn’t really six--though not about the time-travel, yet--Quinlan doesn’t.

They admittedly end up doing this while he’s on Maul-sitting duty.

“It’s like he doesn’t even care about making nice with the people that, at this point, make up the majority of his people!” Leia grumbles one night, as Ahsoka kicks over a step stool so the girl can brush her teeth. “He may not like the New Mandalorians, but from what I understand, it’s still early enough to prevent the majority of the cultural bleaching you brought up. If he stays this stubborn--”

“Leia,” Ahsoka says, and the girl’s mouth snaps shut. “I’m aware of your reasons for not trusting his intentions. But if I may say? Chill.”

“He’s not even trying!”

“He’s trying a hell of a lot harder than he did in the original timeline,” Ahsoka reminds her. “Brush your teeth.”

“I’m not a--”

“Teeth.”

It’s a little worrying, how the child’s brain affects Leia, but... well. That’ll pass in time, hopefully. Until then, Ahsoka gets to be the aunt she should have been. This includes tucking Leia in, which the girl grumbles about despite the fond waves of comfort that enter the Force around her. Ahsoka doesn’t call her out on it, just brushes back wisps of hair to plant a kiss on Leia’s forehead, and then does the same once Rex stumbles in, grumbling about the limitations of a cadet’s body, but far more ready to follow the protocol that is bedtime.

Rex doesn’t pretend to not like getting tucked in, for all that he’s sharing with a grumbly, already-asleep princess. He smiles up at Ahsoka, lets her hug him, and pretends they can be a normal family for five seconds.

Quinlan’s making a late night snack for himself in the galley. Tholme is guarding the Baby Sith. Fett...

Ahsoka goes to the cockpit, takes the copilot’s seat, and watches hyperspace pass them by.

It takes long minutes before either of them say anything.

“Do Jedi believe in souls?”

His shields are up, locked up tighter than the innermost chambers of the Imperial Palace. She has no idea where he’s taking this question. She has to cast about for an answer.

“That depends on how you define a soul,” she finally says. “Leia told me about Force Ghosts. A Jedi Master who underwent the right meditations and training could pass into the Force upon their death without losing their sense of self. They could remain themselves, to an extent, and interact with force-sensitive individuals. I don’t know if they could last that way indefinitely, but depending on your definition, I could argue those ghosts were evidence of a form of soul.”

“So you believe that the dead pass into the Force, but that what passes could be a soul. Something must exist for a sense of self to disappear at death in a way that impacts the Force as you understand it, and many would use the word ‘soul’ for that something.”

“Mm,” Ahsoka considers it. “I’d say that’s pretty accurate. You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“What about those not yet born?”

Her fingers feel cold, and she finds herself no longer able to watch the passage of hyperspace as passively as she had, and her eyes catch on streaks and motes of what is not dust, her vision unable to keep any more still than her heart.

“Oh,” she hears herself say. “The clones.”

It’s a long time before he answers, but the walls come down. He carries a confused sort of grief with him, guilty and a mite resentful. His questions have been building for longer than she’d thought. His voice is rough. “I’ve taken plenty of lives, but I’ve never known the name of someone I erased from existence before they were even born.”

“The stories we told Leia about the brothers.”

There’s a grunt of agreement from Fett, so those dots at least connect.

“I take it my answer wasn’t helpful,” she manages to say.

“Will they still exist?” Fett asks. “Will they be born elsewhere? Or is... is a soul something that only comes into existence after the body does?”

“I have no idea,” Ahsoka admits. “I want... I want to think that I’d be able to find them eventually, to recognize them, if their souls are still born into this world elsewhere.”

“And if your Sith finds someone else to build his army out of?”

Ahsoka looks at him, sharp and pointed. “You wouldn’t.”

“They’ll be doing it anyway, if their plans are as ironclad as you say.”

“You’re already associating with Jedi,” Ahsoka says, fighting the urge to break his nose. “They wouldn’t approach you, not now. They can’t leverage your anger against you. They won’t know everything, but they’ll know that you have friends among the Jedi.”

“You think they can’t come up with better lies?”

He has a point. He has more than one point and she hate hate hates it.

A Jedi does not hate.

I am no Jedi.

“You’re going to have to convince me,” she says. “Especially if you want to somehow balance this with the darksaber thing. I won’t teach you how to fight with it if you’re not planning to retake Mandalore.”

“That’s how they’d sell it,” he says. “Retaking Mandalore. An army ostensibly for the Jedi, and ultimately...”

“You’d build an army of slaves.”

“No, I’d be the inside man for when they build that army anyway.”

She holds his gaze. She looks away first.

“Torrent?”

“I’m thinking.”

He lets her.

“I’ll need to talk to Rex. Probably Leia.”

“Understandable.”

“I don’t like this.”

“I’m only just considering it. It’s an idea, not a plan.”

“That’s the only reason I haven’t ripped your throat out with my teeth.”

“Hyperbole doesn’t suit you.”

She glares at him, and leaves, her mind chopping up and laying out every possible angle on Fett volunteering to do the exact same thing as last time, but somehow worse.

Great. Just what she needed.

---------------------------

Ahsoka isn’t there for the shouting match between Rex and Fett, but she doesn’t have to be. She can hear it form clear across the ship, and Rex comes to her afterwars. He’s been crying, which isn’t as surprising as it could be. These bodies are still prone to such things, and will be for years. She doesn’t comment.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

“We need to take out Sidious before he starts anything on Kamino.”

“Agreed,” she says. “It’ll be hard, though.”

“I don’t care.”

“What did Fett say?”

“That if it wasn’t going to be my brothers, it would be someone else’s. Either we stopped the cloning from happening at all, or we mitigated damage by being there.”

“I don’t think Sidious is going to tap him for it,” Ahsoka admits. “Not unless you’re willing to stage that kind of fight publicly enough for Fett to claim the Jedi poisoned you, family, against him. It could work, but it’s a gamble.”

He knows all of this.

“I miss them,” he says, and she cards her fingers though the curls he’s managed to grow in the past weeks. “I just... even at the end, I had Wolffe. I knew Boba was out there; I wouldn’t be surprised if the beskar let him survive a Sarlacc. I had brothers. Not as many as I used to, but there was always someone. I miss them all, so much it hurts.”

“It wouldn’t be them,” she reminds him. She pulls him closer, puts her cheek to his head. “It would be the same process, the same faces, the same training, even, but the boys themselves...”

He clings to her and shudders.

“Rex?”

“I can’t force them to grow up the way I did. I want them back. Sidious is going to make the army no matter what. Someone’s going to suffer, and I don’t want it to be my brothers, but they won’t exist otherwise, and...”

“And it’s an impossible choice,” she summarizes. “And it sucks.”

“It’s sucks Gungan balls, ‘Soka.”

She laughs, and feels him smile against her shoulder. Good. He needs to smile more.

“He’s still trying to get me to like him,” Rex says. "He’s still making an effort, and he never did that for anyone except Boba, and it’s weird. I don’t know what to do with any of that.”

“Gain a brother,” Ahsoka whispers, and she feels him jerk against her. “If that’s what you want.”

“He’s not vod.”

“Same blood as all the rest, and you’re older than him, so he’s not really in a position to be a parent to you like he was to Boba,” she says carefully. “You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to, but... I think he’s trying. I think this means a lot to him, and that he isn’t any more sure of what to do than you are. You don’t have to forgive him for what he did in the future, you don’t have to accept when he reaches out, you don’t have to ever talk to him again after we reach Coruscant if you don’t want, but I think... I think it’s worth at least considering what you have to gain. I think it’s worth looking at what he’s trying to give you.”

Rex huffs. “Why couldn’t he just be the shabuir I knew in training?”

“Something happened between now and then?” she offers. “I don’t know. I never met him in the original timeline. I just know the guy that keeps trying to get on my good side so you’ll like him.”

He outright scoffs. “Soka, that’s not the only reason he’s trying to get on your good side.”

“...I’m a former Jedi who talks trash to his face,” she says slowly. “And I cried on him. There is no reason for him to be nice to me, other than you.”

“He thinks you’re cool and a good person and wants you to be his friend.”

“Bantha poodoo.”

Rex grins in a way that goes straight to smirking. “Soka, I’m not joking. Jango Fett wants you to be his friend.”

“Kriffing why?” she asks, more than a little horrified. “I’m a mess, look like I’m ten years younger than him, have gleefully kicked his ass in front of an audience; I even told Vos to throw him at a baby Sith Lord. Putting up with me is one thing, but I’m... I’m only barely not a Jedi. I’m a historical enemy of Mandalore, and part of the community he hates more than anything, and--”

“And his reaction to you kicking his ass was pure Mando,” Rex says. “In that he now thinks you’re a badass, and thus worth being friends with.”

“I can’t believe that. I physically cannot.”

“Soka, just accept it. The Mand’alor wants to be friends with you.” He scratches at his scalp. “I mean, he met you while you were protecting what appeared to be children, and it’s apparently still early enough for him to care about that.”

She leans back in her seat, eyes on the wall ahead of her and back against the cool metal of the other side. Rex falls back with her. She wonders if Rex changed the subject so they didn’t have to talk about deciding how many of his brothers get to exist, and whether or not he can swallow the bitterness of his history to have a connection with at least one member of his blood. She doesn’t ask. If he wants to change the subject, that’s his right.

“I don’t... no.” She denies it as well as she can, and then the implications dig a little deeper. “Is this me accidentally signing up to be the Jedi Order’s official liaison to the Mand’alor?”

“I mean, this point in time... they’ve got Kenobi for the Duchess, yeah?” Rex shrugs. “Good relations with the system are probably a good thing, and you’ve got a stronger connection than Tholme and Vos.”

“Ugh,” she says. She rubs a hand against her head, and then lurches to her feet. “Fine! Fine. If it’ll get him to retake Mandalore before the Sith decide to bribe him with an army he doesn’t get to keep, I’ll teach him how to fight for the kriffin’ Darksaber.”

“That’s what makes the decision for you?”

“Well something had to!”

They only get one lesson in before Coruscant, but the lesson lasts a full day, and Ahsoka’s got his comm number. Fett’s a quick learner anyway, and Tholme was there to give pointers where Ahsoka couldn’t.

He won’t measure up to a Jedi in saber-to-saber combat, but he doesn’t need to. He just needs to learn enough to turn all those skills with a beskad to something that works with a jetii’kad.

(The balance of a saber is wrong to those used to a physical weapon. The inertia doesn’t work the way anyone expects. There’s no need to worry about damaging the blade.)

(Fett is good. Ahsoka is better. And, bless his heart, he knows it.)

(She will mold him into the shape of someone who not only can, but should rule a system with a history like that, and he damn well knows that too.)

---------------------------

“Dropping out of hyperspace in T-minus twenty seconds.”

The Slave I is not, in fact, a Venator-class starship, or anything else near the size and smoothness of the ships that Ahsoka grew up on. This is a bounty hunter’s vessel, and the drop to real space jolts like nothing else. Ahsoka’s in the copilot seat for the return, but Tholme’s going to swap with her as soon as they’ve got confirmation that there were no problems with exiting hyperspace, and nobody’s shooting at them.

“We’re not going to get shot at,” Tholme had assured her.

“I always get shot at,” she’d told him.

“I have our clearance,” he reminded her, seeming more amused than frustrated. “There’s no need to worry about getting shot at.”

“I also always get shot at,” Jango had thrown in.

“Okay,” Tholme had allowed, after several minutes of his trust in the Temple warring against Ahsoka and Jango’s learned paranoia. The looks Quinlan had darted around the room when Leia and Rex also claimed ‘chronic getting-shot-at disease’ had been a treat. The paranoia of a Watchman and a future Shadow was great, but the paranoia of three revolutionaries and a galaxy-wide criminal was greater. “You can take us in close enough to get in radio contact, but the second we have to ask for clearance and a vector, I’m in the seat.”

She’d agreed, of course. She was paranoid, not inexperienced.

“We’re much less likely to get shot down by ground control if you tell them we’re with you,” she’d said, to his hilariously apparent metaphysical exhaustion. “Obviously.”

“Good enough,” he’d sighed.

What that means is mostly just that Ahsoka gets to watch the distant star at the center of Coruscant’s system grow rapidly brighter. She can pick out the constellations she’d grown up with, the stars the creche had projected on the ceiling every night, the ones that she may not have seen from the surface, but had greeted her and then sent her on her way every time she left on yet another campaign that lost her men their lives for a Sith Lord's wretched plans. These were the shapes and stories she’d never seen again as Fulcrum, a woman so hunted that to come within a dozen subsectors of the planet was to court her death.

For sixteen years, she hadn’t ventured closer than Alderaan, save for a single trip to Chandrila.

And now, maybe twenty minutes away at this speed, was the Temple. It was home.

A home that didn’t know her, that had sentenced her to death, that had hosted the rampage of her former master... but home nonetheless.

“Stable?” Fett grunts.

“Thrusters are good,” she confirms.

“I meant you.”

Ah. “I’m... fine. As good as I could be, anyway.”

She hesitates, but manages to speak before he does. “You?”

“I’m not the one walking into an entire building of triggers.”

“Only because you’re not entering it,” she says. “It’s the home of your ancestral enemies who, bad info or no, killed off a whole lot of your friends.”

“I get to leave,” he says. “You don’t.”

She plans to needle him a bit more, maybe on something a little less based in both their traumas. She needs to talk, if only to fill up the silence and keep herself from reaching out to all the lights in the Force. It’ll be too much, she knows.

Tholme enters the cockpit. “Change of plans.”

“Better be a good reason,” Jango says, voice flat.

“Leia’s crying.”

Ahsoka’s unbuckling herself before she can process the words fully. “What?”

Leia doesn’t cry for no reason. Her emotional control is as difficult as the body makes it, but she doesn’t just cry. There’s always a cause.

“I don’t know. Rex said to get you,” Tholme explains. “She was saying a name. He seemed to recognize it.”

Not good not good not good. If Leia was feeling the Emper--No. She cuts the thought off there. No catastrophizing. Information first.

“What name.”

“Luke. Mean anything to--and she’s gone.”

Ahsoka ignores him, just sprints to where she knows the ‘young ones’ are. They’re all in Maul’s room, because nobody wants to be alone with him now, but it’s the worst time to leave him without supervision. It’s not the worst option; he mostly refuses to talk, still.

This holds true, because he definitely isn’t talking when she bursts in. He’s sitting on the bench, in a corner, hugging his knees and watching Quinlan try to calm Leia down.

“Captain, sitrep.”

“Vos and Tholme attempted to show Leia how to reach out to feel the Temple from a distance. They felt that it would be a good use of the time, and an interesting exercise at this distance. She attempted to do so, struggled for several minutes, and then reacted with shock. She has repeated the name ‘Luke’ several times since then, and we’ve been unable to fully calm her down. I asked Tholme to get you, as you are the only Force-Sensitive on board that understands the situation in full.”

“Understood.” She nods to him, and then goes to nudge at Quinlan. “Vos, move.”

“Torre--”

“You can sit behind her, hold her in your lap like you did when we had lunch the other day, but I need to get in her face.” She waits for him to comply, and then drops to her knees and takes Leia’s hands in her own. She radiates calm and assurance, even though she knows Quinlan’s probably been doing the same since this started. She dips her head enough to get in the girl’s line of sight, waits for her to meet eyes.

“Princess,” she says, and meets Leia’s eyes. “What did you feel?”

“Luke.”

From this distance... they’ve got half the system to go, at least, and Leia’s training shouldn’t reach that far for anything more than the fact that the Temple is there. Ahsoka could feel unshielded individuals from here, if she focused, but she’s also been doing this much, much longer. The twins theory holds more water than ever.

“Can you show me?” Ahsoka asks, instead of asking for more clarification. She squeezes Leia’s hands and smiles. “In the Force?”

Leia nods, and closes her eyes. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, but it’s the first time in a while that Leia’s needed Ahsoka to guide her through.

Luke’s light, for all that it’s unfamiliar to Ahsoka, is brilliant among the rest of the signatures in Coruscant. Like Anakin and Leia, he’s a star in his own right, but he’s brighter. He doesn’t have Anakin’s bitterness or Leia’s righteous anger, just... light. Ahsoka had asked Leia to show her instead of looking for herself because she’d expected to not recognize the boy, but she needn’t have. He’s unmistakable.

He’s so bright that she almost misses the other signature that she does recognize. She shies away, knowing that it would be there, but... but it’s almost twinned with another nearby. Not identical, but different in a way that comes with age, with trauma, with... death.

Leia hadn’t arrived alone, after all.

Why would Luke?

Her eyes snap open, her hand coming up not-quite-fast enough to clap over her mouth as she gasps. She feels a shudder, one that starts in her shoulders and reaches deep into her ribcage, finds a home in her chest and doesn’t stop.

“Oh fuck,” Quinlan whispers. “Torrent? Um, Sokari?”

Rex steps closer. “Commander?”

“That shabuir faked his death again,” she manages. “Three times, Rex!”

He blinks at her. “...I know way too many people who fit that description, Soka.”

“Master Ke--” she cuts herself off. He might have changed his name, just like she had. There’s already an Obi-Wan here. Rex seems to be figuring it out, but she needs to give him another hint.

“He pulled a Hardeen,” she stresses, and Rex’s eyes snap shut with a tired groan.

“Who?” Leia asks, her own tumult of emotion paused in the wake of Ahsoka’s shock. There’s a hope and relief to her, and Ahsoka belatedly realizes that her main worry had been that she’d misidentified what was going on, that she’d given herself a false hope. Ahsoka’s internal reaction, her approval and awe at Luke’s presence, had trickled over enough to give Leia the reassurance she’d needed.

Unintentional as it was, Ahsoka was glad that she’d succeeded in helping her charge.

“Er...” she trails off. “I don’t know what name he’s going by, right now. We’ve spent so long in hiding...”

“The man Luke knew as Crazy Old Ben,” Rex says, and Leia’s eyes light up.

“Oh,” she breathes. “General O--no, names. The High General, then.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka says, not a little soft. “Yeah, I guess death didn’t stop him any more than it stopped me.”

“I could have told you that,” Leia says, smiling far too widely. She squirms where she still sits on Quinlan’s lap. “He was... he taught you, right?”

“As much my master as the official one,” Ahsoka says. She glances as Quinlan, feels Maul’s gaze on the back of her head. “Your f... my official master was very young when I was assigned to him. He wasn’t ready to teach, wasn’t even ready to be a knight, entirely, so my training was split between him and his master.”

Quinlan pops in at that moment, “Your grandmaster was military, too?”

We all were, she thinks. Even you, in your own way.

“I landed in their care mid-battle,” she says carefully. “It was a complicated situation.”

He nods, and she vaguely notes that he’s got his arms wrapped around Leia, and his chin tucked on top of her head. She isn’t sure if Leia’s noticed, but Quinlan’s picked up ‘baby’-sitting duty so often recently that she’s fairly certain he’s all but declared her ‘little-sister shaped.’ It doesn’t matter that Leia’s older--she’s still taking the juice boxes and gummy snacks that Quinlan shoves at her every single snacktime.

“Do you think...” Rex trails off, something uncomfortable twisting in the Force, even though his face keeps it mostly hidden. “My brothers. If the General survived and... and made it back...”

“I didn’t feel any,” Ahsoka says, because she knows she’d have noticed if it was anyone she’d met, and likely any clone at all. They all felt different in the Force, but they all held a spark that made her know it was one of them. “I’m sorry, Rex’ika.”

“A long shot,” he says, that dash of hope shriveling up. He must see something in her face, because there’s a curl of warmth in him, even if his smile is brittle. “It’s fine, really. I have you, ‘Soka.”

Rex and Ahsoka. Two halves of one whole.

She can’t wait to hear the lectures on attachment, the way people who haven’t seen her wars try to criticize her for clinging to any chance at still having a will to live. She can’t wait to see them justify telling her that it’s selfish to hold her sanity in her hands and refuse to let the grief take it away. She can’t wait to stare someone down for asking her to ‘learn to let go’ after she’s lost her family, her life, her universe three times over.

Most of the Jedi are more sensible than that, are reasonable enough to see those shades of grey and how to approach rules in the spirit they are meant instead of the rigid letter, but there will be some.

There will be more than enough telling her she is wrong to hold her oldest, closest, best friend as dear as she can.

Attachment, they’ll say.

What they’ll mean is ‘codepedence.’

They won’t be entirely wrong.

She reaches out for him, lets him fall into her side and stay there, closes her eyes and reaches out for the man she’d long called father, when they’d still been in each other’s lives.

This time, past the deafening flare of surprise-love-hope of the little star next to him, she can feel him reach back.

---------------------------

The second the ship has landed, even before Tholme and Fett are done with the checks, Ahsoka’s waiting at the exit. She strains her hearing so she’ll know the second the system will let her open the massive door of the cargo hold.

Leia clings to her side, and the boys stand to her back.

Quinlan’s stressed enough that she can feel it like a cloud. She is very much not trying to feel that stress. Quinlan’s stress levels, back where he’s got Maul so he can keep an eye on Ahsoka and the Baby Sith at the same time, are so low on her priorities list that it’s a a little sad.

It doesn’t take long for her to be able to punch the button and open the damn door.

It opens slowly. She bounces on her toes, because there’s a beacon of light and a steady, familiar glow on the other side, and she’s so, so close. She can’t see through the crack yet, because it’s day in this part of Coruscant, and the sunlight is blinding against the dark of the hold. So close. She’s so close.

“The hell’s wrong with you?”

Fett? Fett. He’s already here to get off? This door’s slow.

She doesn’t answer him, because the door is finally open enough to let her out, and she leaps through the gap.

She lands on a pourstone floor, feels pebbles and grit compress under her boots, frantically looks around as her eyes adjust to light and--

The High General, the Negotiator, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, looking just as he did when she first met him, if a little less armored and a little more fed. The hair, the beard, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes. His spirit is a little older, his smile a little more strained, his posture a little more tired, but it’s him.

He spreads his arms, low enough that she could have dismissed it if she’d cared less for hugs, except she’s almost as small as she was when they met.

And every other hug she’d given back then had been, functionally, her being a living missile aiming her montrals for someone’s organs.

She’s a little more aware of how to avoid stabbing her friends in the intestine now.

“Master!”

She sprints for him, collides and sobs, feels him stumble back and then sink to his knees on the too-hard floor, and can feel the tears pouring out of her already. Her breath hitches, and she wails like a child, and that last part of her that couldn’t even grasp at safety shreds itself. His arms are tight around her, warm and strong and Master Kenobi don’t you dare leave again.

It doesn’t matter that Sidious is out there, that the Republic’s been building towards war for a century, that even now someone’s kicking up the Trade Federation. Her dad is here.

“I’ve missed you too, my dear,” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of her head, the bristles of his beard scratching along the skin of her forehead. Off to the side, the binary suns that are Luke and Leia grow brighter in proximity, so bright she can barely bear it.

(“Fett, why the kriff are you reaching for your blaster?!”)

(“Torrent said her master tried to kill her.”)

(“Different guy, that was a different guy, put the blaster away.”)

(“You could have just warned me.”)

(“I didn’t expect you to go for a shot on sight!”)

(”Calm down, Jetiika, if I was going to shoot on sight, we’d already be in a firefight.”)

She ignores everything.

“If you fake your death one more time, I swear I’m going to kill you myself.”

He tries to pull away to talk to her more directly. She does not let him. He apparently resigns himself to this, because he just adjusts how he’s sitting and pulls her in closer.

“In my defense, I was far from the only one presumed dead that took advantage of that status, by the end,” he says, letting her slump into his lap and cry herself dry. “I’m proud of you. You know that, I hope.”

She nods against his chest, smearing tears and snot across the linen and wool. She doesn’t care that they’ll need a thorough washing. She can have her public breakdown and it’s fine because Master Kenobi is here.

He doesn’t even know what she’s spent the past fifteen years doing. Luke wouldn’t have known. He doesn’t know she’s thirty-two and broken, beyond a shadow and cut down by her own master. There’s so much he doesn’t know but the Force rings with the truth of it: he’s proud of her anyway.

“I’m going by Ben, now,” he mutters against her montral. “There’s already an Obi-Wan here, after all. Still, I remain a Kenobi.”

She can’t make the words come out of her mouth. She’s overwhelmed, so much so that speech is a mite bit beyond her.

Sokari Torrent, she presses along the frayed bond that’s knitting itself back to life with every breath they take. Leia was already calling me Auntie Soka, and Rex and I both took Torrent, for...

“For the men you lost,” he mutters. “Yes, that’s fitting.”

He smells like sapir tea and a spiced beard oil.

There’s a whirl of activity about her, greetings and ‘a Sith apprentice?’ and introductions. She distantly notes when Fett almost shoots Dooku before Rex shuts that down and advises the Master to leave the area before things spiral out of control. She feels Ben stand, and she stands with him, clings to his side like a child and trusts that whatever happens, whatever needs to happen, he’ll take care of it until she can stand on her own two feet without swaying.

Rex grabs her free hand, and she feels herself settle back into her skin, bit by bit.

She’s back at the Temple. The twins are safe. Her grandmaster is here. She has her other half.

They can save the galaxy this time.

She’s alive she’s home she’s okay.

She’s okay.

Everything’s going to be okay.

576 notes · View notes

angelguk · 3 years

Text

so much happens in this it’s such a huge mess omg. the return of the angst plot line of jock!jk (aka pretty boy universe please check ml for the other parts). this time featuring: Angst (with a capital A), miscommunication that makes you want to scream, chayoung’s true nature, namjoon catching stray bullets (figuratively), and lucas being a gem. also jungkook is somewhat semi-violent in this one (in terms of thoughts and some actions but no one gets hurt) so please don��t read this if that makes you uncomfortable. in general just an angry heartbroken boy. also oc is finally doing something good. listen to mess it up by gracie abrams + if we were made of water by banks + i will by mitksi + save room for us by tinashe. roughly 4.2k

titled — old friends, new foes

The spring scavenger hunt is an enormous success, all thanks to your careful planning and Bina’s much needed support. While you excelled at organising, you heavily lacked in the social aspect, something Bina fulfilled with smart marketing and a bright personality that drew in a larger crowd than you thought would appear. It's partially expected–she was head of the Events Committee for a reason–but it felt a little strange to lean onto her instead of Jeongguk. He was the one who usually spearheaded that side of your event plans, more than anyone else, and while planning this one you felt his absence tenfold. Like a gigantic gaping hole excavating through your chest and leaving behind a lonely hollow.

That hollowness surges when you spot him meandering towards the third location at the university courtyard, his fingers tangled with Hyeri’s. You slowly turn away from them, heart aching with each thud against your ribs, hoping they haven’t seen you. Maybe Bina sees the fall on your features because she’s gently tapping your arm, leaning in with a graceful brush of her amber locks over her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, feathering through the late afternoon breeze to reach your ear.

You’re about to say it, the pained ‘I’m fine' that had become a part of your routine. But then you hear him, loud effervescent laugh hitting the air, the sound striking your false demeanour down. Your vision blurs before you could choke the word out and suddenly Bina’s arm is firmly around you, guiding your heavy feet far away from the presence evoking your pain.

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to choke up, folding into yourself in the middle of a bench. She stares at you for a moment, before taking a deep breath and sharply clicking her tongue.

“You’re not.” Her eyes are gentle despite the harshness of her words. “I know this isn’t my place, but I do know why you stopped coming to committee meetings.”

The scoff you let out is instinctive. The jarring sound is a stark contrast to the action of your hand hurriedly wiping away the stray tears staining your cheeks. Of course, you’d avoided committee meetings – why the hell would you go when the president was your ex?

“And,” Bina continues, pointedly ignoring your reaction. Her hand reaches out moving to intertwine your fingers. You focus on the image of her sharp stiletto shaped nails that glitter under the glow of the sun settling on your lap instead of the thumping of your heart as she speaks. “Judging from what I’ve seen, it hasn’t been easy for him either. I know you’re probably thinking that you were the only one who cared about him–about your relationship, but I’m pretty sure he did too. So it’s perfectly okay for you to feel like this, no matter how long it’s been.”

Two months and three weeks, you mentally add. A lifetime and a single blink simultaneously.

“I didn’t need to know that,” you say, hoping to kill the hope fluttering in your heart. Bina squeezes your hand instead and gives it wings.

“You did. Also, Jeongguk’s kind of an asshole. Sorry if it’s too soon.”

It’s not, and you can’t help the tiny laugh that escapes from your throat. You glance up at her then, suddenly glad for the dazzling glossed coated smile that greets you.

“But,” she continues. “You’re doing the wrong thing too. I know you’re dating Lucas and it’s not fair to him when you’re still hung up on Jeongguk.”

“I know,” you admit. “And I’m going to fix that.”

She beams. “I hope you do. Don’t let him make you pick the wrong choices. You deserve better than that.”

Perhaps it was her words of reassurance that aided in getting you out of the house tonight. (Or it was Bina gingerly whacking your arm and insisting you needed to reward yourself for working hard). But a minuscule part of you is glad you heeded her advice. The music is louder than the words bouncing around your head, sound shoving your sorrow down as Chayoung hands you another drink. Everything is fast, bodies shifting wildly around you and the faint sound of a beer pong game capturing everyone’s attention. For a moment, you begin to forget. But then Lucas’s looming head materializes before you and guilt swarms your heart.

“Hey,” he offers, deep timbre sinking into your bones. You might just throw up.

You haven’t told him about Namjoon. You can’t bear to. But there’s something else more urgent that you need to say to him first.

Chayoung watches through narrow eyes when he leans forward to brush a light kiss on your cheek. He’s so sweet it makes your mouth turn sour.

“Haven’t seen you around,” Lucas continues, slipping beside you. A steady hand settles at the base of your back. You almost jolt away.

Chayoung’s face is hard, expression carved out of marble as she stares you down. You know she’s mad at you, rightfully so. Even Sieun hadn’t said anything for a few days after you’d told them about Namjoon. You were mad at yourself too. For what you did–for what you need to do to fix it.

“Been busy. Planning the scavenger hunt and all,” you say, gaze glued to a random lamp at the opposite side of the room. It’s easier than staring at Lucas, who’s still so warm and bright. Practically glowing like he’s got the Sun living in his chest.

You hope you don’t leave him cloudy.

He weaves his hand into yours, a pleasant noise escaping past his lips. “I know. Great job, by the way. You should be proud.”

Chayoung slinks away at that, the glower on her features burning your blood. You haven’t told anybody yet because you don’t want their advice on this. But you do need to end things with Lucas. It wasn’t fair to him. Yet, it feels nearly impossible when you tear your eyes off the fading figure of your friend and glance up to find him staring at you with the softest smile.

All you do is hurt good people.

It’s a terrible realisation but it forces you to croak out the words, a rip forming inside of you when that soft smile slips off his face at the sound of them.

“We need to talk.”

But the second they are out you feel something in the world click into place like you’re finally making the right steps toward the correct path even though you need to step on the hearts of others to get there.

Lucas lets you lead him in silence, the weight of it sinking onto your shoulders when he closes the door behind him, the music giving way to the noise in your head. When he turns to face you, watching apprehensively as you perch yourself at the edge of the bed in the room, it all begins to feel like deja vu. Except you’re on the other side.

“So,” you start, eyes on the wall. The feeling of the mattress dipping as Lucas descends beside you pulls your gaze back to him, heartstrings thrumming when the moonlight leaking through the opened curtains pools into his eyes.

How could Jeongguk have done this?

“We need to end this,” you say, realising as the air leaves your lungs that he did it like this. Like he needed to breath. It feels like cutting an anchor off your ankle, head breaking through furious waters to finally find air.

Lucas pauses, blinking slow. You don’t fill the emptiness with more words, afraid you’ll pour salt into an open wound. He lets what you said ruminate, eyes shifting to the scene around you. A random room, bathed by the glow of the room, and two hearts opposing each other–one already poised to leave. One that was never really there.

“Why?” It’s said lowly. You know why. You owe him this admission, after dragging him around on a sinking ship. But the words refuse to part from your throat.

“I’m not right for you,” you say instead, hoping he understands. By the flicker across his eyes, he doesn’t. “Like,” you try, your eyes dropping to where his heart lies. “You’ve got a lot of good in you and I don’t. We don’t match.”

Lucas cocks his head, staring at the ceiling. And this his gaze careens to you.

“You don’t think you’re a good person?”

“Well–” you splutter. But Lucas isn’t having it.

“You’re a lovely person, Y/N. With a lot of good in you too. You are kind of shitty for this though but every good person does shitty things.” It’s said factually like he needs you to understand this.

“I know that–”

“You don’t. You put yourself down too much. Why do you think Jeongguk loved you?”

Oh. That seizes that air from your chest, Lucas’s gaze slamming into your own with a surety that stings.

“Why do you think I like you?” He adds. You don’t know what to do, nervous system spazzing at this information assault. “And I know why you want to end this. You could have said it. I understand, though. The two of you did fight together so well.” He gets up then, towering like a God dictating judgment. “I didn’t expect you to stop loving him immediately, you know.” He’s near the door now, not fleeing but parting a new path. There’s a weird smile on his lips, like the forging of his steps hurts as much yours does. It’s like it’s been hung there, not pulled from his heart like you’d grown used to seeing.

“What did you expect?” You can’t help but ask.

He pauses, the door half-open. You could tell him to shut it, you could tell him to stay.

You don’t want to.

“That maybe one day you would love me more than you loved him,” Lucas whispers. He sees the fall on your features, knows the answer on your lips instantly. “But it’s okay that you never could.”

And then he’s gone, honey blonde hair swallowed by the crowd even with his impossible height. He leaves the door ajar, the music seeping into the room. But this time your head is louder, surer. Because Lucas just let you know something you weren’t even aware of yourself. There was no room for anybody else except Jeongguk. And it truly wasn’t fair to offer him your heart when it was half a world away.

—

Half a world away is apparently glaring at the shrubs flanking the back garden. Jeongguk doesn’t know who’s house this is. He doesn’t care either because at the moment he’s considering burning it down. He’d just seen you amble into a room, Lucas trailing behind like a stupid dog and his heart clenching hard in his chest. It took two seconds after the door shut for him to shove Hyeri off his lap and mumble something about needing air.

(What he needed was you).

The coolness of the night ebbed at his boiling blood, but nothing could ease the ache.

“You look like you need a drink,” Chayoung’s voice feels alien, creeping up his back. He turns to look at her, a polite comment on how he’d like to be left alone hanging on his lips. She interrupts it by handing him a cup, a tender smile gracing her lips. Jeongguk accepts it with a shrug, hoping the burn in his throat will be a distraction. It isn’t. But he forces another sip down as Chayoung slithers outside too, the room behind her glowing as if the building was on fire.

What store sells matches and lighter fluid in the middle of the night? And won’t ask incriminating questions?

“Why the long face?” She asks, peering at him from the corner of her eye.

Jeongguk shrugs, the words in his head refusing to form into understandable sounds.

“Hyeri not cutting it?” Chayoung murmurs. His eyes snap to her, but she’s not staring at him, her gaze fixed on the dark sky.

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk is baffled say the least. He thought his act with Hyeri was a little bit more solid proof. He liked her–somewhat.

Chayoung turns slow, almost sinisterly, a glint in her brown eyes that unsettles him. “I just don’t think she’s in your league.”

The scoff that leaves Jeongguk’s throat burns. He hated that stupid idea of leagues. You should like a person for who they are, not where they stand in foolish social hierarchies. But Chayoung reads his response wrong, suddenly impossibly close, a stray finger trailing along his shoulder. Her nails are talons. He shudders, trying to hide it by leaning away. Chayoung just leans closer, alcohol tainted breath grazing his own. For a moment, Jeongguk considers fleeing back inside to come ask you to collect your drunk friend (a perfect excuse to finally say something to you after months of radio silence) but then he remembers that might potentially end with him walking into the room and finding you with Lucas’s tongue down your throat.

And that would suck. A lot.

But before he can think of another solution Chayoung’s fingernails are scrapping his neck, leaving his skin prickled.

“But then again, do you seem to always pick the wrong ones.” That bristles him and his eyes are suddenly hard and narrow.

“What do you mean by that?” He spits it out, a spark igniting in his chest when Chayoung shrugs. The smile on her face disgusts him.

“You know what I mean.” Her finger is sliding down his shirt and Jeongguk feels branded even through the material. “When you look like this, running around girls like that is honestly a little sad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s hoping he’s hearing this all wrong. That she’s just drunk and acting stupid. But when her eyes lift to him he knows she means it. Every word of it.

“You could do better, Jeongguk. So much better.”

“Chayoung you need to shut the fuc–”

Her lips taste like vodka and cherry lip balm, which is sickening because that’s what you taste like–sans the vodka. Cherry lip balm was your brand. It always was, you’ve got like five of them scattered around your room and a couple more hidden in Jeongguk’s. He recoils instantly, acid climbing up his throat as his hands find something–anything to push away. What he finds are Chayoung’s shoulders and when he pushes he pushes hard. They break apart and the floor beneath Jeongguk cracks wide open, his head spinning violently.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He doesn’t know what else to say, the circuits in his brain frying. Chayoung’s tongue skips over her lips, now wet and a little plush from the force she used to slam her mouth into his.

“Showing you that you can do better.”

He blinks, taken a large step back when Chayoung moves forward, a little sway in her feet.

“You’re drunk and acting crazy. I think I should call Y/N to com–”

“Oh fuck Y/N. Such a whiny bitch. Do you really think she deserves you? After all the shit she’s put you through?” Chayoung’s eyes feel like knives, sharp and striking deep with every word.

“Aren't you her friend? What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeongguk needs this to de-escalate. Chayoung wants to throw gasoline on an open flame instead.

“No–what’s wrong with you, Jeongguk? Moping around for a girl who never realised what she had when it was right in front of her? C’mon now.”

“You seriously need to shut the fuck up. You’re not gonna talk about her like that in front of me.”

“Why not? Cause you still love her? Even when she’s fucking Lucas?”

That stings, his heart bursting in his chest because Jeongguk didn’t know you were sleeping with him. He thought it would just be kisses or something. Not that–not Lucas touching you like he used to. But then Hyeri’s face flashes in before his eyes and he wilts. He can’t blame you for anything, not when he’s been doing the same horrible shit to you. And that makes him pause, the sudden realisation that he’s been hurting you smashing into his head. He didn’t want to hurt you–never. Not even if you were hurting him. He just needed a distraction, something to ease you off his mind. And maybe you did too, but all left you both with was gaping wounds that would never heal. And with other people hurt too.

God, this was a mess. And it dawns on Jeongguk that’s he’s made the worst mistake he’s ever made in his life.

“You should hate her,” Chayoung continues, venomous.

“I don’t,” Jeongguk returns, voice levelled. All he hates right now is himself. And Lucas (which is fair). Chayoung blanches, shaken by his firmness. “I really don’t, in fact, I need to talk to her. Right now.”

He moves fast, foot already past the threshold when Chayoung speaks again, her words aimed with intent to kill.

“She kissed Namjoon.”

He feels the nerves in his legs still instantly, before they nearly give way entirely, his grip on the door frame the only thing holding him up as his heart tears out of his chest.

“I thought you should know,” Chayoung adds. And he hears it then, that vile smugness in her voice. She’s lying. She has to be. You wouldn’t do that to him. And he says that, storming back to Chayoung with his chest ripped open, his body thrumming with barely concealed rage. And fear. Jeongguk feels so scared right now because if you did that means everything he felt–everything he feared–could be true.

“She did.” Chayoung is immovable, standing tall and staring him down. “I’m not lying to you. Go ask Namjoon if you don’t believe me.”

Which, Jeongguk realises as his eyes fall shut that is going to absolutely do. And possibly break a nose in the process. He turns, trying to blink away the blurriness in his eyes, before Chayoung stops him with a single sentence again, this one said a little softer.

“Jeongguk,” she starts, eyeing him down, her brown eyes aflame under the moonlight. “I mean it when I say she doesn’t deserve you.”

—

Someone is attempting to break down Namjoon’s door. Which is bizarre considering it’s almost three in the morning. He has to drag himself out of the comfort of his warm sheets to figure out which maniac is attempting to smash through solid wood with only their fists because it seems like they’re almost succeeding.

The maniac in question is Jeon Jeongguk, standing rigid when Namjoon swings the door open, moonlight bleeding over his features. He’s mad, staring at Namjoon like he wished his head was rolling on the ground instead of stationed square on his shoulders. But there’s something else there, doe eyes glossy.

“Jeongguk? What the hell are–”

“You kissed her.”

Everything stills, the two men fixated on each other. Jeongguk is so still he could have been mistaken for a statue. Almost as if he was waiting for the words that would break this moment, ease the tension seizing his muscles, tell him what he wants to hear. Namjoon can’t do any of that. Instead, he sighs, a muted, “Oh”, floating from his lips.

Jeongguk snaps the second he realises it’s true.

“Oh? You kissed her and all you have to say is oh?” Hands are digging into the soft cotton of his nightshirt and Namjoon’s feet are no longer on the ground. He’s apparently levitating, lifted solely by this hurt angry boy invading his apartment. His back hits the nearest wall with a thud that vibrates through his bones. When the hell did Jeongguk get this strong?”

“Whoa–relax,” Namjoon wheezes, his strong fingers guiding Jeongguk off him. But heartbreak tends to be enough fuel because Jeongguk pushes back with an ease that unnerves him. “Jeongguk, you seriously need to relax. Let go of me and we can talk about this.”

“Why did you do it?” That is what he gets in return. Jeongguk’s voice wavers, coloured a violent red in the velvet of the night.

“I didn’t do anything,” Namjoon returns, the words delivered gingerly.

“No–no you did. You kissed her. You–”

“She kissed me, Jeongguk. And I can seriously explain all of it if you just relaxed and we talked about it–”

“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that to me–she wouldn’t.” And Oh God No, Namjoon thinks he just heard the sound of a heart breaking. It sounds like a weird mangled bird collapsing from the sky and its wing hitting the ground with a funny wet smash, fragile bones snapping like twigs.

Jeongguk’s fingers peel from his shirt and bury themselves in his hair, yanking at the cropped strands as his face twists.

This is far too much emotion for a single person to deal with in the middle of the bloody night.

“Hey–hey, calm down. It was a mistake, I promise you. She was just feeling a little all over the place and made a bad choice–”

“No–that’s the fucking point! She made a choice. She chose you.” Jeongguk’s staring at him in a way that hurts, like he’s attempting to transfer all the pain that’s writhing through his body into Namjoon’s from sight alone.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Jeongguk is frantic, almost like he’s trying to stop himself from pouring out onto the floor. A flood barely contained. “She chose you first. I was there–I was always there. But then you waltzed in and she saw something in you that she didn’t find in me and she chose you.”

Namjoon cocks his head, staring hard at Jeongguk’s round wide eyes, slowly coming to realisations that he was surrounded by idiotic people.

“I still have no idea what you are talking about, but I have to ask, don’t you remember a single thing I told you the last time we spoke about Y/N? You’re the reason we broke up.” That halts him and Namjoon takes that as a moment to press onward, somewhat tired of being dragged into this awkward mess. “And I’ll say this in the nicest way possible but you’re an idiot if you think Y/N wouldn’t pick you over me any day–over anyone really. I could be drowning and you could have a scrapped knee and she’d check on you first. We broke up because I realised I was just a placeholder until she felt brave enough to tell you she liked you. You were rather intimidating for her to approach. Or have you forgotten your track record of girls? It wasn’t easy for her–especially when she was risking losing her best friend.”

The silence that follows aches, Jeongguk’s eyes flashing like he never considered that in the first place.

“But why the other guys then? Why not just tell me after you?”

Namjoon’s going to bang his head into the wall. “You’re her best friend–what about that are you not getting? What if you didn’t like her back and it ruined the most important relationship in her life?”

“But I did–I always liked her.”

“No,” Namjoon nearly groans out loud. “You didn’t. If you liked her you wouldn’t have fucked Chaerin in the back of your car and then gone to report it to Y/N with a grin on your face.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon returns. “Oh. That’s the exact day we broke up too. Such a stupid fight because she was crying and that’s when I put two and two together and realised I was never going to take precedence over you.”

“I didn’t know I was hurting her,” Jeongguk murmurs, almost distraught.

A strangled noise erupts from Namjoon’s throat. “You’ve hurt her a lot more than you’ll realise.” But the second he says that and Jeongguk’s face twists into something unrecognisable he wants to take them back.

“She’s too good for me. Maybe we are better off apart.”

“No, no. You’re so wrong actually. This break-up thing has been miserable to watch and I’m not even in the centre of it. I’ve just caught a bunch of stray bullets.”

“You’re not getting me,” Jeongguk’s eyes swing to him. “She came to you at the end of it all. Maybe we are better with other people. Maybe you’re better for her.”

“She came to me because she missed you. She just needed someone to lean on during your absence. I wouldn’t have to do that if you were there. You know, you should just talk about this with Y/N.”

“I can’t, she’s happy with Lucas. I think.”

Namjoon wants to bang both your heads together so bad. Maybe finally the fact that you love each other would get through your thick skulls then.

“She doesn’t,” he says, instead. “And I know that for a fact. You should really go talk to her. Figure this whole mess out. And also finally get out of my apartment.” Jeongguk’s gaze withers. Namjoon shrugs in return. “It’s the middle of the night and I have a meeting in the morning. I really need to sleep.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” He’s so meek like this, nursing a shattered heart and a confused head. It’s slightly jarring to the image he usually presents, so self-assured and unfazed by whatever gets thrown at him. Never exposed like this, every emotion he holds inside displayed across his face.

“It’s alright. Just think about what I said and talk to her. Honestly. Not skirting over shit like the two of you tend to do. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, trailing towards the open door. Namjoon had registered a breeze billowing in, but he’d completely missed the fact that the door of his apartment was swung wide open. Jeongguk abruptly stops just as Namjoon’s sense of bearing returns, turning to face him with his face pulled down by shame. “I’m really sorry. For this whole thing. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that I was just–”

“I get it. You love her and it feels like she’s slipping from your fingers. Just don’t do that shit again and stop trying to push her away. I’ll say it again–you were always her first choice.” He sees it then, a slight flutter through Jeongguk’s chest. A broken bird mending.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathes. “Thanks.”

Namjoon sighs, offering a tight smile and shutting the door firmly when Jeongguk finally drifts out. He needs a drink before he hits the sheets again. A strong one.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #i hope this redeems jj!jk in your eyes #i might rewrite this who knows

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simluvbot · 3 years

Text

Enhypen’s reaction to when you punch a guy (hyung line)

a/n: this was a request ! I said I could upload this a few days ago but due to it being my birthday and it currently being exam week I didn’t have the time to edit this so that’s why I uploaded without proofreading at first TT // ok I finished editing 😁 Jake and sunghoon’s one is so bad don’t read it pls sorry

Although as this fic includes violence I only wrote for hyung like members and not maknae line, I hope you understand

Warnings: descriptions of physical violence (punching), mentions of being in a crowd, mentions of wanting to harm others (thoughts)

+ note: this is a work of fiction and in no way am I encouraging violence ! I wrote this in a way that I thought would match the member’s personalities although this is definitely not a true depiction of the enhypen members ^^

Lee heeseung

You and heeseung had been in the library studying together for your exams, and although you both had luckily reserved a secluded spot in the library that was both quiet and spacious for your revision, it wasn’t soon before some inconsiderate assholes had decided to occupy your desk too.

There were only two of them, yet they still managed to take up over half of the table whereas you and heeseung only had one small portion to yourselves

Plus they were very noisy, and the only librarian being on the seconf floor didnt help either 😐

You and your boyfriend had both made several attempts to sheepishly ask them if they could please quieten down before the librarian came back and kicked them out and more importantly so you mad heeseung could focus ??

But they simply ignored you, paying attention to the… online games ?? They had came to the library to play???

You were starting to get very annoyed, but decided to bite your tongue and instead have you and heeseung focus on your work

But it was when one of them spilt their coffee on heeseung’s expensive textbook and even laugh afterwards which is what you decided that you finally had it

You don’t know how it happened, but soon you were standing up and landed a solid punch on the guy’s face

Heeseung was really shocked, just as much as you at your brash movements

And he would be even more concerned for you when he sees the person you punched egret aggressive to you and start getting close in your face.

“Hey man, that’s enough.” Despite heeseung’s shock, it didn’t take him longer than second before he stood up and grabbed at the man’s arm easily after he got up close you you intimidatingly, heeseung’s strong grip preventing the stranger from hitting you back and you swear you’ve never heard heeseung’s voice so deep and authoritative before as he told the man to sit down and focus on his stupid game

Due to your own surprise at your actions, you barely payed attention to what was going on as heeseung had a polite (on his end..) whisper-argument with the two guys, packing his things up as well as yours before grabbing your hand and safely leading you out of the library

You two ended up going home where he cleaned at your busted knuckles gently, sad at the fact that you got hurt and overall bummed out at two guys who got you so worked up and that his go-to textbook got ruined ):

“Baby, why did you do that, Hm? We could have just left to another place. You could have gotten hurt if they fought back!”

More than anything, your boyfriend was upset at the idea of you potentially getting more than just a few cuts and bruises on your knuckles, and so you promised heeseung right then and there that you wouldn’t do it again

After both of you got changed into your pyjamas, you and heeseung had set up your own study area in the dining room table, where you both continued with your study session for the rest of the day, with lots of cuddles afterwards as a reward!

Park Jongseong

You and jay were walking back home and it was already dark outside as you were both walking through the streets.

Approaching a heavily crowded place outside a club which included several people under the influences, it was pretty hard for you both to squeeze through the crowd as you were walking past.

They literally were spilling onto the road.. :/

“Jay.” You gasped when you lost hold of his hand on yours, leaving you in the idle of the crowd alone. There were so many bodies around you and as you got quickly pushed to against a wall from the movements of the people you found it hard to make your way through the people who were much taller than you.

You were starting to get anxious and when someone came directly in front of you, literally ignoring you asking for them to move and plainly blocking you for no reason you started to get frustrated, adrenaline in your veins as you lost your boyfriend and wanted to get out asap before you started fo panic.

You had asked the person to please move out of the way so you could pass through and they even had the audacity to look at you and make eye contact — only to simply ignore you when you asked for the nth time for them to scoot.

So, with your anxiety peaking and frustration soaring, you punched them hard on their face as soon as they turned around, and when they went stumbling backwards you finally had enough space to escape from your trapped position against the wall.

Jay had finally found you and was right there a few steps in front of you, and you were almost reaching him when a hand pulled you back suddenly, slamming you against the wall aggressively and leading you to hit your head hard.

Jay saw the whole thing. and he was livid

He shouted at the guy and grabbed his hands in his, pushing him so he was off of you once again. Jay was so angry he literally thought he could see red. How dare a man not just refuse to let someone obviously distressed through, but to touch you and hurt you?

You had to calm him down and urged hin for you both to leave before the stranger started getting aggressive because he was already shouting at you both and some heads were turning 😟

He eventually listened to you when he saw your glossed eyes and you clutching at your aching knuckles, so gently grabbing your unhurt hand in his he swiftly led you both away from the crowd in less than a minute, face fallen and heart aching ah ):

“Hey, let me look at you. are you okay? Did that bastard hurt you a lot?”

You could tell he was still so agitated with what happened, checking at your bruised knuckles and looking a the back of your head that was starting to form a lump from the force of being pushed against the wall earlier.

“I’m so sorry, I should have held tighter. I should have brought some security guards with us today.”

You had to tell him it was okay and you defended yourself and the guy was just a jerk and can’t hurt you anymore.

Jay was still so sad at the fact that you got hurt all because he let you go accidentally for one second ): seeing you so anxious and literally in pain made him feel so bad.

He showered you in many kisses once you both got home and you had a relaxing bath together, as well as helping treat your bruise , promising for this to never happen again 🥺

Sim jaeyun

You were hanging out with your old classmates as a reunion and it was getting close to the time where Jake had said he would pick you up to take you home.

Your classmates had asked you if you had a partner and when you told them that you did, they all got instantly curious.

You of course got so excited and was ecstatic to flaunt off your talented and handsome boyfriend to them :D

So you showed them a picture of Jake, however the reaction that you were met with was not what you were expecting.

Your classmates were silent for a few moments as they looked at the photo, before one of them eventually asked,

“Oh, so that’s the guy you’re dating?”

You could see two of them exchange glances for a reason you could not possibly fathom and your heart fell to your stomach when you saw them stifing their laughter.

“What?” You asked, frowning as you looked at the photo you showed them on your phone. What was wrong with the photo?

“Oh.. nothing it’s just.. well.. he just doesn’t look like the best option..”

“It’s pretty cute actually. Of course you would end up with a guy that looks like he matches you in social level.. he’s probably a loser.”

You were so confused and the comments kept coming as they talked amongst themselves, openly criticising Jake for no reason.

You gotta admit, you never were the closest my with your classmates in the first place but still decided to agree to the meet-up for old times’ sake.

You could put up with their side glances towards you ever since you arrived because you barely cared, but when they dared talk about your boyfriend like that??

You were so angry you felt yourself almost shaking.

“Hey.” You said, standing up abruptly from your seat on the picnic table at the park you guys were hanging out at.

“Why are you insulting my boyfriend like that. What is wrong with you?”

Once again, they simply laughed in your face, seeming to think of your reaction as hilarious.

You were gonna start crying soon because the rage boiling up inside of you was reaching to the point that you were finding it hard to contain it and breathe deeply to keep calm and not cause a scene.

But they kept insulting Jake, liking watching you get angry under their gazes.

One of your classmates in particular kept offering comments, too many and you had enough - you snapped.

You punched them square in the face.

And you had done so just when you noticed Jake exiting his car right outside of the park, when it was obvious that he saw you.

You didn’t care, and in fact you started laughing almost hysterically in front of your classmates at their shocked expressions.

You were in tears because the person you punched started having a nosebleed… to you it was hilarious and you were in your own world trying to catch your breath from laughing so much until you heard your name being called.

“Y/n.” Jake said worriedly, finally reaching yoy and placing a hand on your shoulder.

He led you to his car, and after you both left and as you sat silently in the passenger seat having calmed down, you were staring to feel awkward with all the little glances Jake threw towards you ever so often.

He didn’t ask or push, instead just remaining silent and gripping at your hand you had punched your classmate with, thumb swirling over your red knuckles as he stared down at them with a bothered expression.

“Sorry.” You finally said, giving him a sheepish smile. “They just kept talking so badly about you when they found out I had a boyfriend.. I couldn’t resist.”

Jake if anything was a bit disappointed that you had reacted violently, and he was silent for a few seconds as he sat unknowing of what to say, frowning and licking his lips like a confused puppy trying to work out a solution.

“Please just don’t do it again. Violence is never okay, you should have just left. I don’t want my y/nnie getting hurt or getting into fights because of me, okay?”

You both drove back and cuddled a lot on the sofa, and Jake made sure to give your knuckles several kisses, his heart aching with the memory of what happened );

Park Sunghoon

“Ha, if it isn’t the ugly y/n.”

You bit your lip as you heard the familiar laugh of the rink bullies behind you, plainly mocking you.

“Still friends with that weirdo, park sunghoon?”

Ever since the members in the same extracurricular figure skating club had found out you were friends with sunghoon, the ice boy that they liked to torment for reasons forever unknown to you, you had soon too fallen victim to their evil teasing.

“I told you to stop making fun of sunghoon like that.” You said plainly, sighing as you sat down on a bench to undo your skates.

The group members laughed and would just not leave you alone, even going as far as sitting next to you and entering your personal space by constantly poking at your sides sharply.

And you swear to god the temptation of slashing open their faces with the bottom of your skates was very tempting—

But no, you had told sunghoon that you would meet him at the entrance of the rink to walk home together after your individual practices; and you were already running late.

“Where you going? To go see sunghoon? Huh? Go tell him that we messed with his skates so he fails in the competition.”

Your hands froze as you were tying your converses. You looked up, meeting the leader’s gaze.

“What?” You had enough. You could never understand why they had sunghoon as their punching bag. Sunghoon was used to it, not one to start arguments and the type to only keep to himself when things like this happen.

You just went along with it and followed his lead in ignoring your other club members, but them going this far to try to sabotage the performance sunghoon had been training months for? You had enough of simply doing nothing in retaliation to their bullying.

Standing up abruptly, they stood back at youe sudden movement, but not quick enough for being able to dodge the punch you swung directly on the nose of the nearest one in front of you.

“Y/n?”

Looking over to the doorframe of the changing room — there was park sunghoon.

“Sunghoon.” You said in shock, glancing over towards the group in front of you as they started guffawing at the sides of the person you punched

“Sorry, I got caught up with-“

You were just making your way speedily over towards hoon when you were pulled back by the wrist painfully.

You gasped when the force that you were let go of led you to be flung over to one side and practically topple onto the sticky matte floor.

Wincing as you landed on your wrist, you hissed at the fresh pain and the loud crack that came with it.

It was silent as everyone paused, having heard your wrist snapping as much as you had felt the pain of it.

“Y/n!” Sunghoon was at your side in an instant, pushing his way cut though the others standing around you in shock.

His pretty face was frowned with worry, eyes wide as he came in front of you, assessing your wrist without touching it.

“Let’s get out of here.” He scooped you up, and if you weren’t busy trying to breathe in and out deeply to calm yourself down after your injury, you would have been surprised at the skate bullies making space for a clear path Sunghoon to carry you through.

From all your time of knowing the talented ice boy, your skating partner and friend — you had never really seen him show much emotion apart from the small smiles and laughs he gave only to you. His long legs were able to stride quickly to a bench outside as he called an ambulance for you, a distressed expression as he meticulously cared towards you.

And gee if you breaking your wrist didn’t hurt like hell, but after all, did you regret that day? No. You finally were able to stand up to the bullies for the first time, and even more importantly — that moment had started the beginning of a new chapter for you and Sunghoon.

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #kpop imagines

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softlyjiminie · 4 years

Text

cherry glosses n car washes | j.j.k

⇢ pairing(s): goth!jeon jungkook x sorority sister!reader.

⇢ word count: 7K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: pwp, smut, fluff, college!au, sorority!au.

⇢ summary: in the blistering heat of the summer sun, a bikini carwash is the last place you’d expect to find tattoo bearing, black sweater wearing jeon jungkook. but then again, no one expected to find him dating everyone’s beloved sorority queen YN LN either. in all honesty, he only really came to support her…but most definitely in more ways than one.

⇢ warning(s): please read! brief fight scene, heavy smut, pwp, switch!jungkook, switch!reader, oral sex (male receiving.), oral fixation, fingering, handjobs, heavy!exhibitionism, dirty talk, overstimulation, male masturbation, cumplay, creampie, unprotected sex - please wear protection!

⇢ author’s note(s): hello my loves! happy august! i hope you all are having a beautiful summer! the time has finally arrived for this cheeky fic, read with caution! extreeeme jk spice up ahead. ( thank you to @bangtan-headquarters for allowing me to participate in their Bangtan Boardwalk Collab Event! )

everyone knows who YN LN is. some know you as a daughter, a friend but to everyone at alpha delta pi, you were sister. you were a kind to all, taking care of your peers in your sorority, whether that be during times of hardship or just needing a simple friend to pull through. no person went untouched by your bright light, no person went without your cheery smiles and soft spoken voice, through cherry glossed lips and under peach blush. you made friends everywhere you went, entrancing them with sparkling eyes and a soft cherry blossom scent— and although you denied it, you were everything everyone wanted to be; smart, pretty, popular— you were living the dream.

but then there was your dream...jeon jungkook.

with dark ink tattoos of guns and roses spiralling down his arms and intertwining with his finger tips, long, thick hair and more piercings than you could count, jeon jungkook was the epitome of college bad boy. your boyfriend was the complete opposite of yourself, trading out any colour for black sweatshirts and heavy combat boots, grazed knuckles and a pierced lip that contrasted with the bubblegum pink shirts you wore every wednesday because your sorority was obsessed with early 2000s movies and yelling ‘you can’t sit with us!’ to jocks across the quad.

jungkook liked rock music, his motorbike named missy, painting his nails black and writing songs with his little band ( the weeping kittens, which you always found absolutely morbid but loved anyways ) whilst you liked collecting sparkly lipgloss and pretty stationary kits and those sanrio stickers that you liked to put on jungkook’s phone case sometimes. it was a wonder to anyone on campus how you got together, and to say they were intrigued was an understatement.

but you loved him for who he was, even with all of his odd little tendencies; like wearing black in the summer and scrunching his nose up when he laughed too hard, or how he used your hair clips to hold his hair back when he was concentrating. you liked that he quiet in class but loud and giggly with you, soft and sensitive, snarky and sweet. jungkook wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met, not like jung hoseok from your brother frat— who all your friends thought you’d end up with. of course, you’d flirted with the jock once or twice at parties but he hadn’t stolen your heart that night in sophomore year when jungkook stole your kisses in the back of his yoongi hyung’s van.

and although your friends still try to set you two up, jung hoseok will never be your jeon jungkook— there just isn’t anyone else like him.

that’s why you wear his oversized black AC/DC shirt that differs very much from the pink interior of your room, decorated by your roommate in the sorority house on campus. you didn’t have the heart to tell aerum that the feathers above your bed made you sneeze in your sleep, or that her choice of wallpaper sometimes made you woozy and that you’d much rather a less...bedazzled look; so you let her decorate as she pleases, with only a few hums in of agreement when she changes the settings on the LED lights every week. it’s only now that you realise how blistering this summer is, so you have the air con turned up to the max— goosebumps rising on your bare legs as you chat to your boyfriend of a year over facetime about you’re upcoming philanthropy project.

‘a bikini car wash, huh? like in those teen romcom movies you make me watch?”

your boyfriend mumbles absentmindedly—jungkook has his phone propped up against something, giving you a full view of his perfectly toned body as he strums away at his guitar— he claims he’s writing you another song, the lyrics purely focused on your pink skirts and cherry vanilla chapstick, but your concentration slips as you watch his inked fingers tug at his guitar strings...thinking about the way they’d curl around your throat or slip into the warmth of your mouth and press down against your pink tongue.

your lover glances up from playing for just a brief moment, the corner of his red lips twitching up into a brilliant smile when he catches you looking. ‘dollface, you’re staring.’ he whispers smugly, quirking his pierced brow at you and you struggle to hide the warm blush that blooms across the apples of your cheeks and neck.

“no i’m not.”

‘don’t be a brat, you know you are.’

you whine at his scolding tone, rolling over on your disney printed bed sheets because after all, you’re still a little girl... or his little girl as jungkook would put it. he makes a low noise in his throat, finally putting down his god forsaken instrument so he can pay attention to you, before sitting back in his seat expectantly. “are you sure you don’t wanna come? we’re raising money for a good cause!” you try again, jutting out your bottom lip in full pouty mode as you bat your eyelashes up at him. you’d been trying to convince jungkook to come to your philanthropy event for at least a week— the aforementioned car wash that was happening tomorrow— but whenever you brought it up, his gaze would drop and he’d fall quiet. “we’re donating all the proceeds to food shelters...”

‘i don’t know, YN...’

“i even got a new bikini, i wanna show it off for you!”

‘angel...’ your boyfriend sighs, running a hand through his midnight locks with the lightest hints of frustration. you deflate immediately, dropping the topic in favour for not pushing him any further. you don’t mean to upset him, you just really want him there so you can show him off and gush about how much you love him— the thought itself has your pout deepening before you know it. ‘come on now dollface don’t make that face, you know i can’t help myself when you make that face...’

this much is true, you know that no matter what you’re doing, if you make that face— jungkook’s a goner. “meh...” your voice is quiet and muffled from where you’ve shoved your face into the sheets to hide from jungkook, because you know that you’ll melt if you look at him. you don’t know what it was about him, but your lover always had a way of making you feel small in the best of ways. despite his quiet personality, jungkook was very domineering inside and outside of the bedroom, he cared for you like no other, protected you like no other. he wasn’t one to take advantage your kindness and he wasn’t about to let anyone else do the same so perhaps that’s also why you fell for him.

jungkook hums, leaning into the camera to get a better look at you. ‘it’s not that i don’t want to come and support you baby... i’m just worried that you’ll be exposed too much and—’ he lowers his voice, so you feel as if he’s lying right next to, causing you whimper out for him. the boy tuts, a lazy smile painting his lips as he looks at you with all the love in his eyes. ‘—and god as much as i’d love to see you show off your little outfit for me, i’m not so sure i’d fit in with your...crowd of friends...’ you nod your head slowly in understanding, because as much as you loved the girls in your sorority, they had a knack for making jungkook feel like he didn’t deserve you, purely because he was different from your usual type and jungkook was always too shy and introverted to say anything. you hated that he couldn’t feel comfortable around your friends like you could with his— so you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to come around.

“s’ okay googie,” you hum, curling into a ball on your bed as he laughs at your pet name for him. “i’ll just have to show it to you another time.”

‘another time it is, dollface.’ jungkook repeats, pretending to boop your nose through the screen. you talk for a little while longer before the members of the weeping kittens come in and interrupt your facetime call. the band consists of four members; yoongi the drummer, namjoon the guitarist , jimin the bassist and jungkook, of course, lead singer and guitarist number two. the older two occupy themselves with teasing your boyfriend, poking his cheeks and singing old playground songs ( “YN and jungkook sitting in the tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”) whilst jimin clings to the youngest like a baby and if you hadn’t known better, you’d have thought that the purple haired male was the baby of the group.

jungkook’s cheeks flush a deep crimson when you decide to play along, wishing him a goodnight that makes his face ripple with cringe. “sleep tight googie-poo,” you coo with a sing song tone, finally sitting up to blow him a kiss. the other members shriek with laughter, ruffling their little junggoogie’s mop of dark hair as you tease him for them to see. “i love youuu!”

‘goodnight angel-bear,’ jungkook says quietly, gritting his teeth has he sinks into his sweater to hide his embarrassment. you know his reaction is more of a result of his hyung’s teasing— he claims he can’t sleep well without saying goodnight in your special way. ‘i love you too...’ he mumbles, giving you a shy smile before hanging up the call, leaving you to fall asleep with an equally wide smile.

“there you go, joongie, hope she’s clean enough for you!”

you grin as you wipe the remaining sudds off of hongjoong’s bright red vintage car that you’re sure he spent all of his college loans on. nonetheless, you take the twenty he offers you from his wound down window and ruffle his matching strawberry hair. “thanks YN-ah,” he giggles, turning away from you for a brief second to tuck his wallet away, he briefly smacks his friend ( mingi ) on the thigh for staring at your boobs — and you can’t blame him, you love those girls — before offering you a bright smile. “you guys did a great job on her.”

you thank him once again, winking at mingi with a sly smile before waving the boys off and waiting for the next customer. the bikini car wash your sorority has set up is booming with business, students from across campus driving in to get their cars cleaned. some of the girls on the committee ordered in pink and white balloons to hang outside your dorm house, with a handmade sign saying ‘alpha delta pi wash!’ painted in pastel shades. your girls are having a great time too, looking stunning in all types of bathing suits that show off their beautiful bodies under golden rays, splashing each other with soapy water to ease the burn of the summer sun against their skin.

you quite like the little number you’re wearing too, a pale pink two piece with obsidian black accents and panelling at either side. you wave to some of the girls as you head over to your booth to count the cash you’ve made so far, when the familiar sound of rowdy cheers and hollering boys fills the air. barely glancing up from your work, you note the excited squeals of younger members of your sorority— already tripping over their flip flops to get a taste of the frat boys that take over your car wash.

“what does a guy have to do to get his car washed around here?”

rolling your eyes, you close the catch box with a drawn out sigh— picking up your gaze to meet that of jung hoseok’s. he stands half a head taller than you, chocolate brown hair parted and pushed back from his forehead, he wears the typical varsity jacket and baseball cap combo, paired with blue jeans and his signature chunky trainers. you wouldn’t lie and say that hoseok wasn’t attractive because you’d messed about with him once or twice before, but now he couldn’t seem to understand the boundaries of your blossoming relationship with jungkook. “pay thirteen bucks and use some manners?” your question is more of a statement, with you not in the mood to deal with a cocky frat boy who thinks he’s entitled to your service. the brunette looks taken a back, not used to your snarky attitude with him, but today was not a day for you to be messed with, all you wanted was to raise money for a good cause and have fun, not deal with assholes like him. nonetheless, the jock hands you his donation with a smirk as you whistle over one of the girls to help him.

“hyeri, you don’t mind helping hoseok over here do you—?”

“no,” hoseok cuts in, stepping between yourself and the older girl— stopping her from taking the equipment she needs to clean his car. you roll your shoulders, a light sweat dripping between their blades as frustration builds up within your temple— dealing with hoseok is bothersome and all you want is to relax and let lose. the brunette steps closer to you, and hyeri watches with blushing cheeks, the short, red head almost wishing she was in your position— her flustered attitude only inflating the boy’s ego. so entitled. hoseok was so so entitled. thinking that he could get anything he wanted from any girl just because he was pretty, and maybe that was the reason why he liked you so much— because you resisted him. “i want you to do it, YN, wash my car for me princess? please?”

scoffing, you cross your arms and send an apologetic look to the bumbling mess that is now hyeri. “book him a slot for me, love? i’ll let you help?” you ask softly to which she nods her head and runs off to take a note. hoseok smiles triumphantly but his win is quickly shot down by the glare you send him, and if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. “you know it’s gonna cost you extra for even having me near you, right?”

“that’s an extra cost i’m will to pay...” the boy hums, smirk finding its way onto his lips once again, as he hands you another twenty before heading back to his car full of idiots. relieved that he’s gone ( for the time being ) you release a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding and head off to grab an extra bucket and sponge to clean hoseok’s obnoxiously bright yellow ferrari, but not before you take a second to reapply a layer of your favourite cherry gloss that had faded during the day.

you miss the recognisable sound of yoongi’s truck while your back is turned to the hustle and bustle of your event, so your skin jumps with goosebumps when a familiar pair of arms wrap around your bare waist. “guess who?” a soothing voice whispers into your ear, causing a light giggle to pass between your freshly glossed lips.

“let me think, is it mr. tall dark and handsome?” you tease, squealing as jungkook picks you up and spins you in his arms. before he’s even set you back onto your feet, your boyfriend attacks your face with soft kisses while tugging you into him. “you came!” you beam, once jungkook finally allows you to pull away— using an inked finger to trace patters on the small of your back. hums of approval sound from the bottom your throat while your stresses melt away, your boyfriend’s presence easily calming you down.

jungkook nods, a small smile tickling the corners of his pierced lips as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and presses your foreheads together. “i realised that i was being stupid,” the guitarist mumbles, lips only inches away from your own— you’re so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin and his own body heat radiating against yours. although your foreheads are growing sticky from sweat ( a result of the intense summer heat ), you don’t mind, loving being in close proximity to your lover. “i shouldn’t let the fact that we have different friends stop me from showing my support, i shouldn’t be one to judge your events or say i think you’re exposing yourself— because this is your body and your choice and i’m so proud of you, sorry for being a dumb boy.”

you boop his nose, heart melting at your boyfriend’s words and even more when he scrunches his nose under your touch. “but you’re my dumb boy,” you add, teasing him slightly as you lean up to brush your lips against his. from the outside, it would appear that jungkook would always be the one to make you flustered— so it amused you when your larger, much more intimidating boyfriend blushed under the slightest touches from you. he puckers his lips, awaiting your kiss only for you to nip at his earlobe and whisper. “now how may i help you today?”

pulling away, you can see jungkook shyly curling in on himself— beyond flustered by your actions. his brown doe eyes avoid your gaze while his fingers slip into the sleeves of his black sweater as if he’s hiding. “i uh, also came to get yoongi hyung’s truck washed... he’s not happy with the state we left it in last time,” your lover mumbles quietly, and now you understand why he’s acting more shy than usual.

with bubbling laugher, you reach onto your tippy toes to ruffle jungkook’s long black locks— effectively moving them out of place. “i can help with that, koo,” you tease and pinch his cheeks as you return to your normal height. “but i can’t promise it’ll be any cleaner than last time—“ jungkook tugs you into his chest once more, opening his mouth to speak, when a car begins honking from your left. you huff, pushing your head into your boyfriend’s broad chest while you grip his sweater. “it’s hoseok...i’m sorry.”

jungkook shakes his head, offering you one of his beautiful bunny smiles before he leans down and captures your bottom lip between his teeth. his deep caramel eyes are locked onto yours before he grasps your cheeks and kisses you fully, tongue slotting perfectly against yours as they battle in a light dance for passion. but as soon as the kiss comes, it’s over, jungkook releasing you while you stand dazed to process what happened. your boyfriend was never one for PDA but you definitely notice how he smirks and revels in the cheers you both get, sending heat straight down to your core and making a light slick pool between your thighs. cheeky bastard. the boy salutes you as he lets you go, allowing you to run off to hoseok’s car while someone else books your lover in, before he heads back over to the truck. you make quick work of building up the suds for washing the car, dipping your sponge into the soapy water as you work on the hood— deciding now of all times, would be an ample opportunity to tease him. in the meantime the guitarist makes himself comfortable in the drivers seat of yoongi’s truck, watching you get to work— and it’s not long before he notices little things about you, like how you lean over hoseok’s car a little more, drawing attention to the curve of your ass or how you purposely drench yourself with the crisp, clear and cool soapy water when you ring out each sponge.

suddenly, jungkook’s pants begin to grow tight and his senses kick into overdrive as he becomes increasingly aware of the show you’re putting on for him. the boy knows what you’re doing, from the way you look at him from over your shoulder, to the spark in your eyes and the way you lick your cherry gloss lips. jungkook’s body acts for him, hand sliding down to the buckle of his pants as he slowly undoes it— his cock is half hard in his briefs just from watching you. he hisses when he grabs his length, pumping it slowly. jungkook feels wrong, dirty for touching himself in public, let alone in his hyung’s van but he can never help himself when it comes to you— so he almost whimpers when you lean over to soap up hoseok’s window and give him a full view of your breasts in the little pink bralette you wear.

the guitarist thanks his luck that his dark sweater covers his dirty work, thrusting he shallowly into his hand— imagining that it’s your cute little pussy clenching around him. the warmth of need bursting in his chest because god, you look so good and he knows you’ll sound better when you’re underneath him. squeezing his cock, jungkook let’s a low groan rumble in his chest— fingertips just brushing at his orgasm.

but the euphoria of his release is suddenly ripped away from him when another girl he recognises as your roommate, areum, from the nights he visits you at the house— knocks on his window. jungkook tears his hands from his pants and gives the girl a smile, driving over to get the truck washed just as you finish up with hoseok. you smile at the job you’ve done and the way the frat member’s car shines as you dry up your hands. right when you’re about to leave to find jungkook, hoseok slips from his vehicle and grabs your wrist so that your attention is turned to him.

“she looks great, YN... thanks for cleaning her up,” hoseok praises you, leaning back against his precious yellow ferrari that you’re sure is loaned ( because realistically what college student could afford such a fancy car ), you blink, appreciative of his thanks and nod your head but your mind is too hazy from the looks your guitarist lover was giving you earlier. you know he’s beyond turned on at this point and your mouth almost waters from the thought of him taking you right there, right now. “is there any way i can repay you?”

you snap out of your thoughts, tugging your wrist from hoseok’s grip and smiling at him sweetly— hoping that it speeds up your interaction so you can return to your boyfriend. “you already paid.” you mumble bluntly, turning to leave once more before you’re pulled back into the taller male’s grasp.

“why so distant YN-ah? let me take you out to say thanks?”

“let me go hoseok.” you warn, growling out your words. it’s like he couldn’t understand, that he was incapable of realising that you just weren’t interested in him like that anymore. your eyes and heart were set on jungkook, your days flirting and messing about with boys from the neighbouring frat were over and you didn’t care what people thought of your new relationship. yes, jungkook wasn’t your usual, conventional type but he was yours. your shy, emo, inked, pierced pretty boy.

“just think about it...” the boy pushes for you to consider it, pulling you into him by the hips as the pads of his fingers sink into your naked skin.

“hoseok.” you repeat, your tone much harsher this time as you push him back by his shoulders.

“just let me—“

the wind is knocked out of you before you have a chance to retort, as you’re yanked free from hoseok’s burning grip into a warm and familiar embrace. you immediately recognise jungkook’s sweet, floral scent and cast your gaze upwards, his sharp jaw is clenched, pierced nose is flared and skin shines under the sun from his light perspiration. you’ve never seen him so angry before, at least not in public. jungkook has never been one to start fights or initiate major PDA in front of anyone, so his attitude today... shocks you. “are you dumb, stupid, or is it both?” your boyfriend spits, anger at hot as the sun that beats down on you. his large palms that hold onto your waist tighten and his possessiveness starts to make you light headed with want. you don’t know if it’s the fact that you’re both angry or that jungkook never gets this pissed but you feel the same wetness from earlier begin to gather in your panties. “shit man,” jungkook continues as a crowd begins to gather. “when a girl says to fuck off, you fuck off, especially when she’s taken.”

your pupils blow wide, gaze flickering over to hoseok who’s chest rises and falls with a mix of embarrassment and anger. you can’t tell which is the more domineering emotion. “and what if i don’t ‘fuck off’ what are you gonna do about it freak? we both know she deserves better than you.” hoseok goes for a low blow, eliciting a chorus of ‘ooo’s and ‘fight! fight! fight!’s from the group that surrounds you and his car. your boyfriend clenches his teeth ready to to spit out another comeback when you detangle yourself from his grip and knee hoseok in the dick before giving him a good old sucker punch— watching with a satisfied glossy grin as he doubles over in pain.

“YN, you bitch!” he cries out in pain, and you’re about to swing again when jungkook lifts you by your hips— legs kicking and arms flailing just to get another taste. once you’re a fair distance away, your boyfriend sets you down as you shake out your hand— knuckles barley bruised from the punch and you know that your lover is impressed ( and maybe just a little more turned on ).

hoseok’s frat brothers help him clear up his bloody nose while girls fawn over the poor thing. you’re not surprised when hyeri gives you a disappointed look, punishing you with the task of cleaning the interior of the douche’s car whilst the sorority takes a lunch break. something about repaying him for almost breaking his nose. you don’t mind though, you were far too hungry for something else.

“that was hot,” jungkook mumbles against your neck after everyone’s gone, he’s got you pressed against the door of yoongi’s truck— thigh between your legs and lips barley touching your neck. you moan lowly, feeling your hips naturally grind down against the meat of your boyfriend’s thigh whilst slick gathers at your entrance. the combat jeans he wears are a rough polyester, only adding to your stimulation but you’re beyond turned on at this point, not caring if anyone sees. not that they will, the car wash is closed while everyone’s on break, so you have time to kill. “the way you sucker punched him like that, god i don’t think my dick’s ever gotten that hard that fast...”

your laughter falls into an airy moan, as your fingers dance their way down from jungkook’s sweaty hair to push at his sweater. you wonder how he’s not burning in the thing with how thick it is, not to mention how black clothes attract heat but you don’t question it, only knowing one thing and one thing only. that you want it off. “don’t lie to me googie,” you whine when he pulls away to rid himself of the ghastly article of clothing— a different type of heat building in your core. “saw you watchin’ me wash hoseok’s car earlier, bet you were painfully hard just sitting there knowing you couldn’t touch me,” you breathe, enjoying the way he twitches in your grasp as you yank him up for a blazing kiss. his strawberry tongue swipes over your lips to taste the cherry they have painted on and the flavour bursts in your mouth as he forces your lips apart and tangles his tongue with yours. when he pulls away, only a trail of saliva connects you both, making you both groan in unison. “were you touching yourself, baby?” you ask breathlessly, forcing your head back against the cool surface of the truck.

“fuck, angel face...” jungkook hisses at your lewd words, hips stuttering when you grab his growing bulge through his jeans. “h-how’d you know?

“i just know you.”

your boyfriend presses his lips to yours once again, fingers diving down to pinch your clit over the panties of your bikini— making you squeal with pleasure. jungkook swallows each and every one of your noises, hands trailing up and down your body until the slide under your bralette where inked fingers pull at your nipples and squeeze at your breasts. the peaks harden under jungkook’s touch, which is surprisingly cool despite the weather and you arch your back into him— desperate for more.

“let me feel you,” he finally says, sounding just as desperate as you and you nod, letting jungkook drop your feet to the ground gently and shove his shirt into the front of yoongi’s freshly cleaned truck. the guitarist is about to open the door for you when an idea pops into your head. pulling jungkook’s arm, you point over to the piercing yellow ferrari on the other side of of the lot outside of your sorority’s house and his face falls. within an instant, the key’s of hoseok’s car are back in your hand (after an hour of cleaning it) and jungkook is lowering you onto it’s hood. “want me to fuck you here, dollface? for everyone to see?”

you nod your head, a series of incoherent babbles falling from between your lips as you stare up your boyfriend with a hazy look in your eye— a look that drives him wild. jungkook strips you of your bralette and takes a breast into his mouth, sucking and licking and biting like a man devouring his last meal. you have no choice but to take what he gives you, closing your eyes to the melody of wet, sloppy sounds as his warm tongue swirls around each bud— contrasting with the cold metal of hoseok’s car beneath you. his freehand tweaks your other nipple before dancing down to between your legs as he pushes your thighs further apart. wetness pours from your burning entrance, causing your panties to stick deliciously to your pussy and jungkook groans around your second breast ( having switched between the two ) before he slides his two fingers past the flimsy pink material to circle your dripping hole.

“please koo, finger me...fuck me!” you cry desperately, writhing against the expensive car that your pussy drools onto. he groans, wasting no more time as he pushes his tattooed digits into your tight cunt, you whimper as he grinds his palm against your clit with every thrust of his fingers inside of you— dragging his finger tips against your needy walls as your eyes threaten to flutter shut from bliss.

your boyfriend tuts from your breast, standing straight to lean over you while more of your juices splatter lewdly against the hood of hoseok’s car. “nonono, angel, eyes open, want you to look at me as i stretch you open on this fucker’s car, yeah?” he pants, curling the fingers he has buried in your pussy so that they catch deliciously on that one spot. your bleary eyes focus on one thing and one thing only, your lover. the way that his lips shine under the sun with smears of your cherry lip gloss, and the way that his dark eyes shift to lighter shades of coffee brown in the sunlight— the way his strawberry lips are caught between his teeth as he pleasures you and your heart bursts with adoration. “that’s my good girl...” he mumbles, voice gravelly with need when he notices your open doe eyes.

with uncoordinated movements, you manage to tackle the buttons of jungkook’s pants, pulling his painfully hard cock free from its material confines. he practically whimpers when your burning palm comes into contact with his weighty length, his tip bright red and glistening with need. “feel good baby?” you ask him while doing your best to pump him in time with the thrusts of your fingers, creating the illusion of him being inside of you. jungkook leaks endless amounts of precum, eyes scrunching shut as he grows closer to his orgasm.

jungkook buries his mop of midnight hair into the crook of of your neck, kissing at the skin there. “d-didn’t finish earlier...” he stammers, thrusting his length into your grip. “if you don’t stop i’m gonna cum before being inside you...” he wastes no more time, pushing your pretty pink panties aside and slapping is leaking tip against your glistening pussy— teasing you both even though you’ve been craving each other all day. his strong, tattooed arms hook around your legs, bringing you closer to him as he finally pushes his cock past your entrance— you hiss in unison as his weighty length sits within you and you dig your heels into the small of his back to prompt him to move. “shit...angel, dreamed of this pussy all day...”

“then take it jungkook, take me like you mean it,” you almost scream, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer. your nails dig crescent moons into his blemished, freckled skin as he circles his hips and drills is cock into you, tip rubbing against your fiery walls while you clamp down on him. your cunt selfishly sucks him in as you find the strength within you to lift your hips and meet his thrusts— loving the way he feels and the burn of his fat cock stretching you open. the air between you seems heavier, hotter as the sun shines brightly above you— your perspiration clouding the glimmer on the hood of hoseok’s car as mix of your arousals smear across the honey yellow paint. you’re messy, dirty, tainting hoseok’s car as jungkook fucks into you with wanton— chasing the release that’s been building in his stomach all day.

you love it though, the way he wrecks your little hole out in broad daylight for everyone to see if they wanted— the sounds of his hips slamming against yours filling the empty lot in front of your sorority. anyone could come back now and see you taking his cock, and the thought makes your pussy gush with sweet, hot nectar. “your cunt is so greedy, swallowing my cock whole,” jungkook reminds you, pushing his cock into your womb until he reaches the hilt. “you must like me taking you in public huh?” he speaks your thoughts, moaning heavily as you squeeze around his length with every word, your juices wetting him more. jungkook presses down on your tummy and you watch with awe as it bulges slightly— his hips never easing up as he pushes himself impossibly deeper inside of you. “god angel face, would you look at that, look at me inside of you.”

“you’re so big,” you praise from underneath him, gasping as he grinds himself into you— harsh material of his jeans brushing against your sensitive clit. you play a game of back and forth, pushing your hips against each other with every turn until jungkook picks up the pace again, a knot in your stomach begins to form— your orgasm sneaking up behind you as your pussy weeps and cries, painting the front of jungkook’s jeans as well as your pretty thighs. “wanna cum on this thick cock of yours koo, make me cum please please...”

“you’re driving me insane dollface,” jungkook comments through gritted teeth, pounding into you now at a relentless pace— you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock against your walls, causing your jaw to go slack as you drip endlessly. he shuts your pleas up with the two fingers in your mouth letting you taste the remains of your essence. your boyfriend only manages a few more thrusts before you’re falling limp against him with new colours flashing behind your eyes as cream against his cock. jungkook rides out your high, hitting your g-spot over and over and almost reaches his climax when you hear someone’s footsteps against the gravel. eyes widening jungkook pulls your weak frame into his chest, using the discarded keys to open hoseok’s car door before bringing you inside. your heart thumps as you spot a sister from your sorority in the side mirrors, she seems to be looking for something but for now, you remain out of view.

with that in mind, you push yourself out of jungkook’s iron grip— knowing full well that he still hasn’t cum. ignoring your boyfriend’s nervous and confused expression along with the thumping in your chest, you drop to your knees, paying no mind to the burn the gravel causes against them. “YN, what are you—?” jungkook never finishes his question as you brace yourself on his thighs, giving sweet kitten licks to his tip before taking him into your mouth. you won’t need to do much work, he’s already close and you can tell from the way his abs clench and his fingers weave their way into your hair. your free hands pump what doesn’t fit into your hot mouth, as you drool on his cock and spit gathers on your chin.

your boyfriend whimpers quietly in the front passenger seat and you slap his inner thighs when the girl walks past. you spare a glance to the mirrors once more, swirling your tongue around your lover’s length as he strains to hold in his moans. he whispers ‘pleases’ under his breath, begging you to let him cum...so once the footsteps retreat and disappear completely, you tap his thigh once and jungkook immediately bucks his hips. your jaw falls lax as he thrusts into your mouth as if it were your tight heat, desperately chasing the release he’s been waiting for all day. “fuck, fuck, shit!” he curses as your throat tightens around his length, causing him to spill his seed into your mouth. you swallow gratefully, only pulling away to show him the mess he made of your tongue before letting him pull you onto his lap. “such a dirty girl, sucking me off like that with people around...”

“you loved it,” you tease, twirling his long hair between your fingers as he kisses down the valley between your breasts.

“would have loved to cum inside you, more.”

you straddle jungkook’s lap, letting his half hard cock brush against your soaked panties as you grind down on him. “then let me make you cum again; let me ride you.” you state more so than ask, taking his hands into yours and intertwining your fingers. jungkook looks up at you with bright starry eyes, and you lose yourself within their constellations— you loved him, you knew that and no one would change that. the mood slips into something softer and you’re no longer in a rush to ruin hoseok’s car, instead you take your time easing yourself down onto your love’s length as it hardens with each stroke of your hips.

neither of you will last long this time, sensitive from your previous releases but that doesn’t stop you from slowly lifting your hips and bringing them back down to start a steady pace. the length of jungkook’s weighty girth, drags along your velvet walls with each rock of his hips into yours, sending tingles of pleasure down your spend. he lets go of your right hand, using his large inked palm to grab at your waist, guiding you into him in away that makes him whine. he moves onto your ass, squeezing the peachy flesh as you bounce on him, launching you both into new realms of pleasure.

“love that ass baby, how good it looks in this little set,” jungkook whimpers against your sweat slicked skin, closing his eyes to tune into the sounds of your angelic moans and wetness against his dick. “always so pretty for me...”

you swivel your hips in soft circles, clamping down on your lover with each word of praise as he sucks blues and indigos and violets between your breasts, his mouth salivating from watching them bounce with every thrust into your tight heat. he worships you under the golden sun, heated bodies moving together as you both work towards release. “it’s all yours, koo,” you cry, biting your cherry lips— bitten red and swollen from kisses your lover used to soothe your cries of wanton. “i’m all yours.” you add before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and you’re pulling him by the hair to yank him into another sweet kiss, tasting traces of your gloss on his pinkish lips.

“mine.” jungkook claims your mouth as his, as you squeeze and clench and clamp around his girth, tears beginning to roll as your high approaches. the guitarist doesn’t up, letting you swallow his whines as the sensitivity grows too much, the tip of his length hitting that one spot over and over again while you push your hips down to meet his every thrust.

“look me in the eyes when you cum with me.” you growl to him, freeing your hands to cup his cheeks— lips tingling and cunt spasming. jungkook can barely nod but he obliges, deep brown eyes pulling you in as his warm breath fans across your face. you drown in his eyes, falling under as the knot in your stomach finally snaps— your hips falter as you cling to jungkook with all you have, release glazing his cock until he fills you with his creamy essence. your fingers massage his wet scalp while you bury your face into his neck, hearing him whimper and cry out as he fills you over and over again.

eventually, the sensitivity grows too much and jungkook pulls out of you with small moans, fingers finding your messy entrance as a mix of your arousals drips onto the leather seats. “i love you, angel face...so fucking much,” he finally says with glossy eyes and a tiny smile, dipping his finger into your leaking hole and smearing the evidence of your rendezvous against your lips.

“and i love you, more than anything.” you hum back, licking the sweet and salty sheen from your lips before mirroring your lovers smile because all though he’d rubbed of your cherry gloss, jungkook’s cum was the next best thing.

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mcmusing · 3 years

Text

A continuation based off of my earlier post from two days or so. This was just supposed to be suggestions with scene alterations but my special self just had to turn it into a three-day production.

With a few tweaks, X-Men First Class could have been a better, more thought-provoking, honestly objective film.

I've already addressed the facts that the film favors Erik's cynicism too much. I also don't like the insulting implications that all of the women and non-white mutants going with him was some type of empowering moment. No- just no. However, with some modifications, let's try for a balanced story. Starting post-recruitment.

First off, don't kill Darwin. To this day, people are pissed that such a likeable character with ADAPTATION powers was callously thrown away like that. No, his powers won't break the plot. Just because he can change form to survive doesn't mean he can single-handedly defeat Shaw's forces. And here's a crazy idea, don't have Angel follow those fools, either. Maybe she's scared and unsure of who to trust, but when she sees how Darwin doesn't fall for that lame 'slave' remark, she's not sold on that 'queen' bait, either.

Maybe have Alex go with Shaw instead. He's hesitant and unable to face the disappointment in Darwin's eyes- they had started to connect- but he thinks Shaw's team will win the day. At least if mutants take over, he won't have to lock himself in a cage anymore. Besides, the CIA would likely dump him back in prison after the massacre. I also don't buy a young girl screaming and crying as she sees people murdered being so easily seduced into joining the killers.

When Charles and Erik return, Charles hugs Raven then goes over to offer Angel one as well. She's taken aback at first.then eases into it. Cue a hint of jealousy from Raven. Sean is still adamant about staying. Darwin agrees, bringing up how they killed the Oliver Platt agent, who advocated for them, so gruesomely. And everyone is genuinely upset about that instead of glossing it over simply because the agent was an expendable non-mutant. This whole film series infuriates me with how it has no respect for life.

Erik says, "Then, let's finish this mission. For him." He actually means 'for me' but it produces the desired effect.

Everyone agrees to stay, but Angel is apprehensive. With Alex on the other side, Shaw's team is packing all the fire power. Charles emphasizes that they absolutely must train. Also, training lasts four weeks instead if one because come on. One daggon week is not enough time to get everybody into shape, for Hank to complete the cure, and for bonds to forge. Stop moving at the speed of Disney romance, Matthew Vaughn.

They're all astounded upon seeing the mansion for the first time. At Charles proclaiming, "It's ours," and Erik snarking about 'hardship' Darwin is immediately perturbed and says pointedly, "You're really going out of your way for us, Professor. Thank you." The bashful Professor replies, "Just Charles, please." "And by the way," Raven slinks over, 'accidentally' nudging Angel out of the way, "that hardship was softened by me." An appreciative Charles hugs her and kisses her head. Raven takes them on the tour.

Over in hellfire land, Alex gives Shaw demonstrations of his plasma beams. The older man is instantly impressed. Alex brings up, "I heard Erik and the Professor talking once. I know what you did to Erik. How you made him stronger." An apathetic Shaw responds, "Your point?" Alex states, "I want you to do the same for me." Intrigued, creepy grin from Shaw.

Okay, x-training.

When Charles doesn't want to shoot Erik for deflection practice, a passing Darwin offers to instead. He explains, "Drive a cash-only cab on the east coast- better know your way around a piece."

Erik remarks, "You are aware you're gifted with divine sentient armor, yes?"

Darwin replies, "That's on a need to know basis. And New Year's Eve whinos don't need to know. Haven't had to pull the trigger yet."

Charles looks on pleased that Darwin hasn't had to harm anyone. While Erik deflects every shot, the telepath becomes uncomfortable at the masochistic vibes he's giving off. That's when Charles suggests a more interesting challenge, which leads to that satellite dish/Hanukkah scene all the slash fans melt over but that I've grown cold towards because Singer and Kinberg ruined Erik, wasted Michael Fassbender's time, and my emotional state as an FC fanatic. So help me, I hope they both burn i- moving on.

The x-training scenes are interspersed with scenes of various experiments being performed on Alex.

Angel and Sean become flight buddies with many a quip about the redhead being the Peter Pan to the the petite butterfly's Tinkerbell. In addition to pushing Sean off the satellite, Erik hurls random jagged discs at Angel. One of her wings is injured before she can center herself and Sean has to catch and glide her to the ground. Charles is incredulous, a bit of Hank's inner beast rears its head as he checks Angel over and snaps at Erik for almost getting her killed.

Unsurprisingly, the metal wielder is unapologetic. "This isn't recess, children. Maybe if you hadn't been so preoccupied with fun & games, you could've done more than cower while dozens of men were slaughtered."

Sean is crushed and Angel has to look away to hide the gloss in her eyes.

Hank retorts, "Maybe that wouldn't have happened if you had what it takes to stop Shaw a long time ago. You recruited us, Erik. Not the other way around."

Charles lightly chides, "Hank," but Erik merely says, "Knew there was a mutant in you. Nice to know there's a man in there as well."

Hank doesn't reply as he and Sean take Angel inside to the infirmary.

Once the younger mutants are out of earshot, Charles barely hides his anger as he seethes, "I'd ask if you've lost your mind but that's a foregone conclusion."

"She's fine," Erik dismisses.

"Being a firm taskmaster is one thing but you are crossing one too many lines. Sean was enough but Angel wasn't wearing a scrap of metal for you to snag. Erik, you could have killed that girl."

Erik comes back with, "Sean ensured that didn't happen. A few flesh wounds will feel euphoric compared to what Shaw will do to them. Either they can rely on each other on the field or they can't. It's better we unload the dead weight now."

"Dead weight," Charles echoes in disbelief.

At the younger man's unreadable expression, Erik gives him a prompting look. "Don't bite your tongue now, lab rat."

"I told you I felt- and still feel- every shred of agony he subjected you to. Erik," Charles spoke with a mix of sadness and gentle disapproval, "Sebastian Shaw is in your head far deeper than I can penetrate."

As Charles goes inside, Erik is left legitimately wordless.

Later in the mansion gym, Darwin is spotting between an agitated Hank and a tired but persevering Sean. Raven is using dumbbells nearby.

When Hank lasts longer, Darwin takes the barbell from him. "And the beast is boss."

Sitting up, Hanks asks, "You alright?"

A winded Sean replies, "No," and towels off. "Want to go at the bag a while? Pretend it's the Magnet-toe?"

Hank smiles, "Don't tempt me with such imagery right now."

Raven pipes up, "He's really intense, but... I dunno. He's seriously dedicated."

Sean says, "You can admire him. He's not a big enough head case to mess with the Professor's sister."

"Hey, I don't get any special treatment around here," Raven insists. "Remember how that impromptu dance party was all my fault somehow?"

Guilt flashes over Darwin's face at that.

As the younger men leave, Hank and Raven exchange sweet smiles. Erik is entering and they briefly exchange icy blue eyes.

Noticing the shape-shifter, Erik mentions, "It would seem I'm in disgrace with your brother."

"Preaching to the choir," Raven says lightheartedly. She puts the dumbbell down to rub her arms. "Do I have a brother? He's been so jazzed about training the rest of you."

"Well, you ladies are delicate blossoms in his eyes, aren't you?" Erik reaches out to stroke her shoulder and Raven flinches. Erik calmly explains, "You have a cramp forming that will leave that shoulder aching all night." At ease, Raven lets him massage it. "The dream boat's left the harbor you know."

Raven eyes him in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Hank," Erik clarifies. "I'd say its safe to remove your makeup."

Raven ignores him and goes to bench press. Erik snatches the bar out of her grasp. Insert the 'save energy, be blue, I'm only paying you any mind because you're freaky looking, adolescent girls are ruled by their emotions, those black kids are harshin' my oppression street cred, and your brother's recently had the nerve to mildly contradict me and I need to keep at least one Xavier in my back pocket' speech here.

At night, Angel suffers a violent nightmare. Hank, Raven, and Sean are in the hall with Darwin heading for her door. The Professor appears and calmly indicates for no one to come any closer.

Standing outside the door, Charles calls, "Angel? Angel, are you alright?"

Awake, she gives off a strained, "Yeah."

''May I come in, please?"

Once she grants him entry, Charles pulls a chair over to speak to the sweat coated girl at her bedside. "The massacre?" At her accusatory look, he explains, "Your every terror projected into my mind as if I lived them myself."

Angel tries to deflect. "It's not- it's nothing. Something must've messed me up at dinner. All this gourmet food is a shock to my system."

Charles eyes her kindly but knowingly. "Angel, you have no reason to be ashamed. What you witnessed was as sickening as it was senseless. There is no weakness in recognizing brutality for what it is."

Angel stays quiet a moment. "You and Erik already found me collecting tips for tricks. I know your neighbors must assume I'm the hired help. I don't want you to think that I'm too pitiful to amount to anything more than a 50-cent gutter reject."

Charles rushes to nip that in the bud promptly. "You, young lady, weren't rejected by any rubbish heap. You never belonged there in the first place. You knew pain long before any of this unfolded. I only wish I could've found you- all of you- sooner."

Angel manages a small smile of reverence. "Where did you even come from?"

"Want me to dig out my thesis?" Charles jokes. "I'm told it's a foolproof sleep aide."

Angel laughs softly then appears thoughtful. "Your powers don't just see memories, right? You can, um, push them back?"

Charles nods. "May I?"

She nods back and lays down again.

The telepath drapes a hand over her forehead, gently decluttering her mind until she's able to drift away.

Much later that night, an absently channel surfing Darwin is alerted when the TV remote is suddenly levitated out of his hand. He glances back at the wizard of metal entering the sitting room.

Erik sits on the arm of the sofa. "Your adaptability makes a full night's rest obsolete?"

"Don't I wish?" Darwin then asks, "Does yours?"

With a furtive smirk, Erik brings up, "Demons haunting a certain Angel?"

"You'll have to ask her about that."

"I'm asking you."

"Which you wouldn't need to do if you'd been concerned enough to drag yourself out of bed like the rest of us," Darwin says matter-of-factly.

"I did. Roughly an hour before she woke up the rest of you. I was finishing up a round of calisthenics when I saw Charles keeping tabs on her." Noticing him in short-sleeve workout apparel, Darwin averts his eyes when they land on the numbered tattoo. Erik doesn't miss it, though. "Something on your mind?"

Darwin faces the TV. "We shouldn't have to fight him."

"Shaw?" Erik scoffs. "His converting a government facility into a human slaughterhouse seemed like a desperate cry for help to you?"

"I mean Alex." The younger man then reasons, "It's not hard to see through that thick shell he puts up. He went from isolation in a hole to witnessing mass murder. He's confused, probably afraid of going straight back to lockup, maybe even-"

"He chose a side," Erik cut in sharply. "The wrong one. With his time spent under Shaw's wing, you cannot afford to pull punches on your lost playmate."

"Playmate," Darwin echoes dryly, looking at him. "We're the same bunch of B-list flunkies you wrote off before Russia, aren't we? But now that the stakes are higher than ever, you're stuck with us."

Erik apathetically responds, "D-list is pushing it."

"You were right." At grabbing the older male's attention, Darwin continues, "We were nowhere near ready for this two weeks ago. Everybody was having a great time, most of us feeling free for the first time ever. But I never should have let it escalate that far. I don't know how I...." Darwin appears reflective. "Every time we went into a department store- any time we set so much as one foot outside our neighborhood' my folks had it grilled into me: Head up and mouth shut."

Erik's eyes reveal a flicker of empathy. "I didn't mean I wanted you to file straight to the back of the bus. I refuse that- for any of us. We're paving the way for a whole new species, Darwin. Void of the current one's inane hangups on aesthetics and station."

Darwin questions, "Voided through progress or duress?"

Erik releases a faint wry chuckle. "A man after the Professor's own heart."

"And God help him," Darwin flicks him the remote on his way out, "Alex is after yours."

At daybreak, Angel makes her way down to the Xavier kitchen. Both gasp as a blue Raven morphs into blonde.

"I thought you were...."

"Your nerdy prime rib," Angel fills in knowingly. "Girl, please," she sits at the island, "don't be putting on airs. It's Mutant Manor around here."

Raven remains disguised and wears a taut smile. "Unfortunately, we weren't all blessed with pretty mutations."

Angel raises her head. "And some of us weren't blessed with pretty British brothers or a Barbie on/off switch." She gets an apple out of the bowl and takes her leave of the mute Xavier girl.

The only one around currently, Angel finishes the apple while roaming the magnificent mansion. She happens upon the lower area Raven specifically avoided during their tour.

"Searching for Frankenstein's Monster or Eve's Eden?"

Angel turns at Charles' voice. "This whole place is that second thing and your special sadist friend is the first one."

"Quite," Charles smiles then grows slightly somber. "That was my stepfather's laboratory. We had it sealed off after he died."

Angel points out the space. "Did he....?'

"There was an accident," Charles confirms cryptically. "Please, this is the one area of which I want you all to steer clear."

Angel develops instant nerves. "I- I'm sorry."

"It's fine, really," Charles reassures.

Inching closer to him, Angel peered up coyly. "When this is all over, if you keep me on until I can get some money together.... I can make you happy, Charles. If you want."

Charles catches her wrist when she goes to touch his face. "Angel, no. No, no, you don't have to do that. And I'm certainly not 'keeping you on'. This is your home for as long as you want it to be."

Angel appears so taken aback that her features soften and a childlike air surround her. "You.... You don't want anything from me? At all?"

"You've already made me happy, dear girl," Charles asserts warmly. "Even with all that we're preparing to face, having all of you here has filled this old empty place with more happiness than its known in far too long."

Angel regards him compassionately. "Bad things were done to you here, weren't they?"

Charles attempts levity. "Don't tell me you've developed a mental mutation."

She simply responds, "I had a stepfather, too."

Charles clasps her chin gently. "Have you eaten this morning?" At her showing him the remains of the apple, he brings an arm around her and begins guiding the way upstairs. "Come on. Let's get some actual breakfast in you. If you shrink anymore, we'll never get your feet back on the ground."

Angel giggles softly. "It's all good. I'm diggin' it on Cloud 9."

From a distance, an observing Raven slinks away before Charles can sense her presence.

After receiving no more than two hours of sleep, a startled Darwin is given a wake-up call in the form of a bucket of cold water.

From the doorway, a dispassionate Erik instructs, "The rear gardens. Five minutes." He leaves with that.

With many uncharacteristic swear word under his breath, Darwin rushes to dress in workout clothes. In the empty backyard, he calls for Erik. The only response he receives is a flying dagger to his shoulder that catches him completely off-guard. He is yanked from his dazed state as dozens of metal implements target him like heat-seeking missiles. He does his best to dodge them but he receives several knicks as he tries to flee into the woods. His powers only heal small scratches and even that's at a much shorter rate than he's used to.

Their minds linked via Charles, the telepath, Erik, Raven, Hank, Sean, and Angel are able to watch Darwin's performance on the satellite dish. Angel and Sean wince in empathy, Hank gives Erik period fury eyes but can't help his fascination with Darwin's abilities, and Raven is mostly smiling, focusing on the ones Darwin evades more than the ones that strike him.

When Darwin makes it into the woods, Erik mentally addresses him.

Erik: Catch your breath or keep your life. Your choice.

Darwin then has to drop to the ground facedown to avoid being beheaded by an antique sword.

Erik: You can graze later.

Aware that Charles must have consented to this, Darwin rises. "What's your game, Erik?"

Erik: As I keep reminding you wonderfully made but stupidity prone whelps, this isn't a game. If it were, riding the bench would be more dignified than you deserve.

Charles doesn't contradict him in front of the students, but casts an expression of unmistakable reprimand on him.

Nostrils flaring and fury ready to burst, Darwin remains in place as the next assault metal targets him. Instead of evading it, he seizes the sword by its handle. He then proceeds to ferociously swipe at every incoming object in-between dashing out of the way of the ones that attempts to sneak up on him.

Erik quietly develops the same expression of awed satisfaction when he first saw Sean take flight.

Raven teases: Look at Erik glowing.

Unaware that their link allowed the youngsters to see his face, Erik gave an impish Charles a scathing look.

Erik: Yes, glowing in amusement over such amateur swordplay.

Sean recognizes the Irish weapon: Is that a claideb?

Erik: According to the blacksmith.

Angel: Geez, Erik, we know you're ancient but you didn't have to bring all your medieval knicknacks from the old country."

Erik: Trot the globe as much as I have and you collect a few noteworthy trinkets here and there.

Out of breath, dirty, and worn, Darwin casts down the sword and tries to climb up to the satellite dish. Hank and Sean help him partway up. Hank immediately retrieves the first-aid kit to treat the residual wounds.

When the girls come over to shower Darwin with kudos, Sean jokes, "Would it kill you to leave just a fragment of cool for the rest of us?"

Darwin responds, "No but life with this metal menace will. Charles, please tell me there's a legit reason you're indulging this side show."

Charles explains, "Would a genuine concern suffice?"

(What do you mean there's a word limit?? Part 2 to come)

#x-men first class #alternate take part 1 #Charles Xavier #erik lehnsherr #raven xavier #armando munoz #darwin #hank mccoy #angel salvador #sean cassidy #Charles' Angels #Charles Xavier protection squad #Charles Xavier deserved better #Angel Salvador deserved better #Darwin deserved better #found family #found family feels

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monstas1ut2 · 4 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers x POC!Reader!

~Warnings~

•Mention of Biting

•Hints At Sex

•Cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Being His Girlfriend”

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-Shu Sakamaki

-What He Loves About You?Physically and Mentally?- : The blonde loves your thighs, there's so many things he imagines with them.. let that be innocent or devilish. He just wants you to sandwich his face, though he won't say that outloud. Now, what he loves mentally? You being sassy, or loud.. Now listen to this, he has a love hate relationship with your loudness when you get angry or when you laugh... He thinks it's hot when your angry... he thinks it's funny when you laugh... but he wants to push his earbuds in his ear very far sometimes...

-How He Kisses You?- : Shu tends to lazily poke his lips out a little, just a tiny bit. It flutters your heart when he does it because you know he wants a kiss. Shu cannot get enough of your lips, especially if you have lip gloss on.. it kinda turns him on in this odd way.. anyways, his kisses are soft, though they can also be sloppy with light touches.. swapping of saliva... his huge hand slapping your ass occasionally... yeah you two are... sexual at times...

-How He Hugs You- : He doesn't hug you on pure instinct... though if you come over to his mansion, he's very protective... so he immediately teleports down and wraps a lazy arm around you and disappears with you to his room. That's the most you get, unless you hug him.. in which he would take this opportunity to lean down and smell the nice products in your hair.

-How He Deals With Your Sass/Slang- : Shu doesn't mind the way you speak, he thinks it's unique and he understands the shortening of words because it's lazy to say the whole thing. Though about your sass, he normally shuts you up by smacking your ass pretty hard, or kissing you harshly... Shu always says he doesn't have time for your bratty attitude.. but he high key lives for it, especially when you're doing it to someone else.

-Dealing With His Vampire Tendencies- : Shu is one of the brothers that didn't drink from Yui much when she was living with them.. but when he got with you... he started to want blood every week... it wasn't annoying since you actually liked the feeling, but it was annoying to him.... He'd get annoyed if you wore that perfume he loves so much... he can't resist.. that smell mixed with your blood.. he-...

-Comforting Him- : Okay, Shu has a sad backstory, all the brothers do... we know that.. But you're his girlfriend, and the way you comfort him when he feels this way is just laying with him in bed.. his head near your heart as you give him a nice little scalp massage with your nails. Sometimes you'd talk with him, to get it off his chest... and after his mind is off of it.. you two don't talk about it any longer.... And he really does appreciate you... he just never says it.

-Reiji Sakamaki

-What He Loves About You? Physically and Mentally?- : This vampire loves... loves your skin... he unlocked a new kink he never thought he had... an interracial kink... He just loves the way your darker skin contrasts with his... He isn't afraid to say things about your skin, and he normally keeps your skin clear... Anyways, mentally... he loves your determination... You never back down unless you want to, not to please anyone else. You also have guts.. and he praises you for that.

-How He Kisses You- : Reiji Kisses you on the back of your hand, after that.. he may kiss you on your lips.. only if you beg though. He likes when you initiate things, even though it'll end up with him being the dom... he just loves seeing you so bold... So this means your kisses can go any way... It could be soft today, but completely slutty and sex filled the next with you giving out soft sounds.

-How He Hugs You- : Mister Reiji doesn't hug... you hug him... so his hands are always at his sides.. not making any move to lean forward or anything... though one day he thought you were sad... he thought you were crying and someone was about to die that day.. though he hugged you... it felt so weird but felt so right... he just held your head to his body with his gloved hand. Reiji wanted to stay like that forever but you looked up pretty shocked.. and he was annoyed that you tricked him... but lucky you... he gives you a hug once a month now.

-How He Deals With Your Sass/Slang- : Reiji absolutely hated the way you talked, but ya know... he got used to it... and when you get used to something, sometimes you start to love it. Reiji won't say this but he thinks your slang is sexy. Only because it comes out harshly when you're angry. We all know Reiji loves seeing you being messy with girls who tried speaking with him. He'd interfere, yes.. but he'd let you run your mouth before you could jump on the chick.. he won't say he likes it though. But if it's towards him, he gets sadistic, he wants to see you crumble and act right... and he can get you to act right in 0.001 seconds...

-Dealing With His Vampire Tendencies- : Reiji drinks blood when he wants to, and when you came around.. that stayed the same. He wasn't going to drain you, no... the only times he drinks blood from you is when he needs it and when you are being very rude and bratty. He has only done that once and it shut you up for a week because we all know Reiji is harsh with his bites...

-Comforting Him- : Reiji won't admit that he's down, or that he's thinking of the past. But you know him... you knew something was up. Comforting him is quite easy, you just hug him tightly... and you reassure him that he's number one in your book... you reassure him that you're never going to leave him... and that you understand...

-Ayato Sakamaki

-What He Loves About You? Physically and Mentally?- : This high ego vampire loves your boobs... this isn't going to change for anyone... he just loves boobs.. whether they are small or huge.. There's a big difference from your boobs and the boobs he'd seen before... Your boobs were like chocolate chips... and he would occasionally bite them, not your nipple though, he did that once and got slapped. What he likes about you mentally? Is your skills in volleyball. He has never seen a female as aggressive as you in any game really.. so it's fun to see you accidentally harm someone on the other team..

-How He Kisses You- : Ayato doesnt give warnings... you both could be on your way to class... or you could be going to practice... or even walking through the classroom door and here this redhead comes, pushing his lips onto yours.. Ayato's kisses are surprisingly soft, and not long at all unless he's getting riled up.. maybe because he's a secret tsundere... just a tiny bit.. But when he gets riled up, expect your lips to be bruised and your lip gloss all gone...

-How He Hugs You- : Ayato is just one of those guys, you know.. the one that has his arm around you 24/7.. so it's not necessarily a real loving hug but behind the scenes.. when you two are alone.. just open your arms and he's there... Hugs with him aren't quick whatsoever either... even better

-How He Deals With Your Sass/Slang- : Okay, so Ayato doesn't deal with your sass... simple.. if you're cursing someone out like a dog, he lets you. If you're cursing at him like a dog, he just curses back.. he high key thinks it's entertaining anyways so why stop you?

-Dealing With His Vampire Tendencies- : Ayato probably drinks more blood than all of his brothers. So when you came into his life with that caramel/chocolate goodness, he died inside and came back to life... devouring you every other day. He actually doesn't take a lot in one day, he knows his boundaries... but it's mostly everyday that he drinks your blood.

-Comforting Him- : Ayato tries to keep everything inside and hidden, so speaking about his problems mostly ends with him getting annoyed and angry.. though one day he let you comfort him and it didn't stop after that... He just loves the way you'd speak to him and the way you'd intertwine your fingers with his. He won't say it but he's absolutely soft for you... because he knows he's mentally safe..

-Laito Sakamaki

-What He Loves About You? Physically and Mentally?- : He... loves your ass... like... your ass... the way it jiggles in leggings, shorts... jeans... why does it move so much? He never seen such a thing where he used to live so... but yours was so.... nice... he usually has a hand on one of your ass cheeks 24/7. Now, mentally? He loves how bold you are, how blunt you could be... he recalls the moment you two met... it was like you were a stripper-..

-How He Kisses You- : Laito's kisses are obviously pretty heated, but he's so skilled it looks like those sexy movie kisses where they just.. dive right in... Though Laito loves cute pecks a lot... he'd take those as well.. just to have your affection.. his hands usually slides to your ass still though..

-How He Hugs You- : His hugs are tight and always loving. No matter the time of day, if you wanted a hug, Laito was right there giving you one. He just loves personal touch... and it had to take him awhile to get used to this whole relationship thing but you straightened that out.. for sure...

-How He Deals With Your Sass/Slang- : Laito didn't even notice your slang at first until he noticed he didn't know what you were saying sometimes... And he wouldn't say anything since it didn't bother him but he'd do little things to tick you off just so he could hear your voice... honestly your voice to him was sexy... Now... your sass? He loves it, he indulges in it and he sometimes gets girls to flirt with him just so he can see you about to take the hoops out-.... He's an ass... but he really means no harm.

-Dealing With His Vampire Tendencies- : Laito is probably the second brother who takes so much blood from their s/o... He usually does it during the time when you two kiss. He tends to do it on your lower body a lot and he actually does try to be gentle but that's kinda impossible.

-Comforting Him- : Laito probably had the most traumatic experience as a child? Being completely ripped of his innocence... So, of course it comes back to haunt him... He usually ends up not wanting to touch you, as you give him that space until he's ready to come back to you. When he does, you wrap your arms around him and you place his fedora on the side table and you lightly rub at his hair..

-Kanato Sakamaki

-What He Loves About You? Physically and Mentally?- : Kanato loves your face, how it glows in the sunlight.. he honestly debated about turning you into a doll but you reassured him that he could stare at you for as long as he wanted... Mentally, he loves your caring soul... You may be rude at times and mean but not to him-and Teddy- and that's what gets him happy...

-How He Kisses You- : Kanato didn't kiss you all the time, he used to prefer cheek kisses from your lips... but when he smelt cotton candy out of the blue he gripped your face and noticed your lip gloss was that smell. He figured he could taste it too so he kissed you.. his kisses are harsh of course because he never been in a relationship before.. so expect to have bruised lips.

-How He Hugs You- : Kanato doesn't really hug you... though he tends to place Teddy to the side and he doesn't let go of you in bed. But he's not doing that in public...

-How He Deals With Your Sass/Slang- : Kanato doesn't really care about your slang as much as the others. He does love your sass but, definitely NOT towards him though. If it's towards him he's going to straight lay you out... But if it's towards someone else he's smirking, and watching you let them have it...

-Dealing With His Vampire Tendencies- : Kanato is probably the third that drinks a lot... the triplets are literally just... wild... Anyways, he drinks a lot from you, mostly if he craves it or if you act sassy towards him... he isn't soft either.. so let's not curse mister Kanato out....

-Comforting Him- : Kanato would sometimes get angry at you for no reason and what you do is just let him... he then notices himself that he's doing his for no reason and he just let you embrace him. Usually Teddy is discarded and he's laying his head on your breasts.

-Subaru Sakamaki

-What He Loves About You? Physically and Mentally?- : Subaru loves your hair, he would ask to touch it, and you've told him plenty of times that he could considering he's your boyfriend... you told him that you don't let others touch it because you don't know where their hands been and you don't want them messing anything up. Mentally, Subaru loves your happiness... and your jokes.. he's so used to being depressed and angry.. so when you brightened up his life.. he was appreciative.

-How He Kisses You- : You have to initiate the kiss, if you don't... you just won't get kisses.. he acts like your so fragile and he tends to say terrible things about himself... So you usually initiate the kissing, he loves feeling your darker hands on his face while you do kiss him. He also surprisingly loves when you sit on his lap while you do so... it's always a soft kiss with him... he only does harsh kisses when he's pissed.

-How He Hugs You- : Subaru still believes you're fragile so he doesn't really touch you at all unless you touch him first.. so you initiate the hugs as well. He blushes of course and tends to hug back lightly, and one time you tackled him and he blushed so hard he actually looked like he was going to burst... he felt your ass on his crotch and he bout-...

-How He Deals With Your Sass/Slang- : Subaru doesn't mind your slang, he thinks it's entertaining, though your sass is something he won't deal with.. he usually shuts you up by wrapping that rough hand around your throat... and telling you to shut up... he.... he apologizes later..

-Dealing With His Vampire Tendencies- : Subaru is probably the brother that doesn't drink much. He doesn't like hurting you, but when he realized how strong you were.. he'd be a little alright with it.. and he'd bite at your shoulder or your wrist. He is actually pretty soft, and he tends to get your mind off of it... by doing something... bold.. with his fingers..

-Comforting Him- : Dealing with the whole mom thing.. having mommy and daddy issues like the rest of his brothers is... Subaru lets you comfort him, he lets you curl up beside him and he wraps his arms around you and doesn't let you go... this is comfort for Subaru because this way.. he knows you won't turn on him and you won't leave him so suddenly...

-Karlheinz

-What He Loves About You? Physically and Mentally?- : This dangerous man loves your figure... Mixed with that skin color of yours.. He just wants to eat you up... he may be acting like his purple haired wife who was absolutely obsessed with him... He's your biggest fan.. and everytime you come to work.. he's either staring at your new hairstyle, staring at your new acrylic set... or staring at your new clothes... Mentally, he loves how powerful of a woman you are.. some may say he won't like a powerful woman and honestly he didn't.. he knows he can still overpower you but nobody else can..

-How He kisses You- : Karlheinz usually wraps his arm around your midsection and leans down to you. He's always kissing you, and kissing on your neck. He just loves the taste, and it's like he's edging himself for a bite. His kisses are usually sexual most of the time, and it leaves you wanting more.

-How He Hugs You- : This man will kiss the back of your hand first before placing his hands on your waist... pulling you close while you try to wrap your arms around his neck but he's tall... even with your heels on..

-How He Deals With Your Sass/Slang- : Karlheinz is the one who looks up everything you say to understand what you mean... Though when he finds out, it's imprinted in his mind and eventually he can understand everything you say. You rarely talk that way in the work setting, but when alone with him... you let it all go. If you're sassy with him, he usually doesn't do much.. but if he is annoyed by it, he lets you know and lets you know you're on a thin line... if you pass that line even more he would give you some.. harsh slaps on the ass and force you to say sorry.. but if it's towards someone else.. best believe he's right there being petty with you.

-Dealing With His Vampire Tendencies- : Karl tends to be pretty calm with it.. he's powerful so he can get blood anywhere without having to bite into anyone. But he bites you for punishment sometimes, and would drain you completely so you could go to sleep... aka, pass out and not bother him... he loves you though.. really. If he needs your blood quickly he tells you that before biting where he wants... and his bites are unusually soft.

-Comforting Him- : There is no comforting this man...

~•~

#diabolik lovers scenarios #Diabolik lovers #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #karlheinz #boyfriend scenarios #poc reader #black reader

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the-awful-falafel · 3 years

Note

Am i the only one who doesn‘t see why people say Morty was so degraded as a character 😅 i mean sure the „i refuse to do that i‘m just desperate to get back together“ line was dumb, but it was just a joke, Rick literally explained it was basically Morty‘s midlife crisis talking: as soon as he‘s 14 again he would be less codependent and that‘s exactly what happened. He started setting boundaries and telling Rick he won‘t be with him anymore if he‘s not honest with him. Him supporting and forgiving Rick for now because he has a lot of empathy is in character for him but it does not and should not mean every bad thing Rick has done is just forgotten and that Morty is fully reset and healed. And despite the writers commentary, I really do think that they know this, I don‘t think this is an indication of Morty‘s character growth being tossed out. He‘s still going to snap eventually and Rick will still be held accountable. Nothing that happened made me think otherwise, it‘ll all happen in time. I can‘t see them just glossing over fucked up things like the vat of acid

Not really sure about everyone else's reasons, but the reason I felt like Morty got degraded/done dirty is mostly due to how needy, dependent, and clingy he was written towards Rick in the S5E10 opener (not even really the midlife crisis thing, which I know was just a joke, but more just in general), in a way that felt downright disturbing considering his solo development the rest of this season. At bare minimum they should have given Morty a few more weeks before he missed Rick enough to try and mend things with him (because I agree with you, he's forgiving enough to at least try, but he shouldn't be so forgiving he's going to grovel over it like he did here). Show him enjoying his own solo adventures with Rick's portal gun, going to school like a normal kid, surviving by himself, just something that doesn't imply that he's doomed to fall to pieces without Rick around. Like... when was Morty being desperate/needy enough for Rick's company that he'd attempt to emotionally blackmail Rick into coming back ever built up as part of his character? If it's due to the fact that Rick was the one who unexpectedly owned up to his abuse and left (which I acknowledge could change Morty's reaction), why did Morty's characterization still feel so exaggerated and specifically designed to shit all over the independence that they've been exploring in his character up to this point, and implicitly justify both his codependent relationship with Rick and the continuation of the status quo?

It also felt like the finale wasn't really respecting the sheer extent of Morty's abuse when it came time to address it in S5E9, which is bizarre since it was meant to be the episode where his and Rick's conflict reached a fever pitch and they split apart, so you'd think the core problems would be addressed... more clearly? Instead, it muddled their relationship as a weird, both-sidesing "okay but what if they BOTH had a lot to learn" allegory while also giving Rick a complete softball in his culpability by having him be the one to realize that their relationship is toxic (in a super broad way that noticeably didn't bring up any specific abuse he had done to Morty), therefore he must leave with the crows and inadvertently deny Morty (or the narrative) the opportunity to truly hold him accountable for anything. And even that character development on Rick's part gets regressed barely a few minutes into the next episode, but since Morty missed him so much, Rick doesn't have to do anything else besides the bare minimum to earn forgiveness! Status quo restored, hooray!

Yes, I know they tried to show it's not a complete regression since Morty is setting boundaries and stuff, saying stuff like "I don't want to do this anymore if you're not honest", but it came off as... rather weak to me, tbh. Not only was the buildup unearned, it didn't sound that different to how Morty tried to set boundaries and "invent honesty" in season 4, and that didn't hold up in the long run, either. Rick has always caved to a certain degree of Morty's wishes/nagging, even from the earliest seasons, so it's how he handles Morty's outright defiance to his ego/control over the relationship that is much more revealing about him as a person (like in Morty's Mindblowers and Vat of Acid). Rick being somewhat nicer to Morty in these episodes just doesn't feel like a significant enough improvement to justify how quickly the narrative forced them back together. Morty's forgiving nature felt uncomfortably utilized, too, like they were simultaneously acknowledging it as a fucked up trait "bred" into him to facilitate Rick's abuse, but also trying to have it both ways by painting his unconditional forgiveness of Rick as the first step in Rick realizing his mistakes and the two of them working to become true partners. If that was what they were going for, I'm sorry, but they executed it very, very poorly and left a lot of harmful implications with how it ends up framing abusive relationships in the process.

Like, the way they wrote it, I don't get the impression this is the start of Rick and Morty's relationship improving at all. I get the impression this is the start of them pretending their relationship is improving (and maybe genuinely trying for a while) but more and more of the fucked up stuff gets brushed under the rug and they start falling into the exact same patterns as before once "honesty" and "respect" stop working, because abuse built on such a one-sided inescapable power dynamic isn't fixed just by deciding to be nicer to each other.

If this discomfort is intentional, if they're planning on this "equal partnership" thing to eventually crash and burn since it's built on such an unbalanced, consequence-free foundation, bringing the conflict to a head in a later season in a way that respects our Morty's growth and finally holds Rick accountable in a way he can't depend on his victims' forgiveness to get out of, I'd... still view these episodes as ultimately a regressive cop-out, but I'd be slightly more tolerant of it, at least, since it would feel more intentional? The finale's excellent characterization of Evil Morty and how he called out Rick's abuse without much pushback indicates some self-awareness at least, so I'd like to have some faith this will be handled better in the future, but the behind-the-scenes writer commentaries are... very worrisome. I guess I'll have to wait and see what they do in Season 6 onward, but how they handled this particular conflict will probably leave a bad taste in my mouth for a while.

#asks #rick and morty #rick and morty spoilers #rnm s5 finale spoilers #morty smith

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agustdef · 4 years

Text

I Found You

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Hoseok x Doctor!Reader.

Genre: One Night Stand to Lovers; Fluff; Angst; Smut.

Word Count: 25.9K

Warning: Angsty. Language. Sexual activities. Daddy kink. Mild mention of pain within pleasure.

Rating: 18+.

Banner Maker: @httpangelicjimin is the lovely human who dealt with me changing my banner and being willing to change the title on this one when I thought to use it for a story I’d pulled at of my ass at that exact moment.

Beta Reader: @mindays is the sweetest bean in the world who betas all my stuff and not only corrects things, but makes me feel like I’m not just writing trash.

YN just wanted a weekend of peace and doing nothing. She’d spent a week doing twelve–hour shifts at the hospital and despite doing her best to take breaks she was drained. So, when one of the other doctors said they needed to swap their three–day weekend for one she had two weeks later she jumped at the chance.

It was like the universe was on her side.

So, she’d spent Friday sleeping and eating. Somehow, she’d even managed to get in some yoga, which made her body feel like it was on cloud nine. All the tension and stress of being on her feet melting away. It was just what she needed.

And she planned to spend her Friday night the same way. Surrounded by snacks as she watched the k–drama Goblin from the comfort of her bed and planned to order dinner as soon as the two leads finally confessed. She was so enthralled with the scene playing out – despite seeing it a million times – that she didn’t even notice the door to her bedroom open and her roommate enter.

It was just as the moment she was waiting for was to happen that she was alerted.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked, well shouted.

Startled, YN whipped her head around to stare at the male, eyes wide and chest heaving. Her heart felt like it was going to jump from her chest.

“What the fuck Beau?” YN said.

All she got was laughter and him plopping down onto her bed, obstructing the view of her TV. It’s when YN tried to push him to the side that she realized the moment had passed and the scene moved on to something else. Her nostrils flared and she glared at Beau, reaching out to slap his arm but hitting his breast instead as he tried to dodge.

“Ow,” Beau whined, swatting her back.

YN slapped his hand before he could though and stuck out her tongue.

“Ow my ass. You know that’s my favorite,” she mumbled.

Beau stuck out his tongue as well, his hand rubbing the assaulted boob. “Yes, that you’ve seen like three times this month alone.”

“And that matters because?”

“Because you can wait to see it again and we are going out to a party at the tattoo shop and you have to get dressed.”

The expression of annoyance on YN’s face morphed to that of confusion as she stared her roommate down. She reached up pushing his long, curly hair out of the way to press her hand against his forehead. It felt normal, which couldn’t possibly be right.

“We? We are doing what now?” she asked.

Beau rolled his eyes and rose from the bed.

“We are going to Yoonie’s shop and enjoying a tattoo party. You haven’t gone out to do anything in almost two months and you can’t use too tired as an excuse. I want you to go. Yoongi wants you to go. And you know it won’t be crazy, so you’re going.”

Naturally, YN had about twelve different arguments for why she shouldn’t go out, but then she saw Beau pout and something in her black soul couldn’t say no. She’d been impervious to his charms once upon a time, but now she was mush. It was ridiculous.

Also, she wouldn’t put it past him to Facetime Yoongi who’d smile at her one time and make her crack in an instant. Her roommate’s boyfriend was a kindred spirit and made her soft, so saying no to him felt like committing a crime or something.

How she’d attracted people who could weaken her defenses she was unsure. But she guessed they were nice to have around.

Groaning, she threw her head back. “Fine.”

Beau squealed and immediately turned towards YN’s closet, but that was a no go for her. He’d spend forever in there trying to get YN to wear something slightly more over the top then needed. Which would be done for the sole purpose of trying to put her out there to any of the people at the party so he could convince her to go on a date.

Wasn’t happening.

“Nope. I’ll find something on my own. You go get my curl creme and edge control from your bathroom, because I know you stole it,” YN said.

“I didn’t–”

YN fixed him with a glare before he could continue and he stopped talking though there was an eye roll as he walked out of the room.

“Also, I know you took my high waisted shorts too. Don’t think I don’t,” she shouted after him.

Once she heard a series of words cursing her a smile graced her lips. Getting on Beau’s nerves – even a little bit – was always fun.

With her temporary privacy YN made a beeline to her dresser. Without much thought, she yanked a pair of high waisted gray shorts from a drawer and slipped them on under her shirt.

She’d decided the weekend would be anti–pants.

After that she found a bra from another drawer and slipped it on up underneath before heading to the closet. Obviously, she wasn’t going to go all out but that did not mean that she wouldn’t at least try to be cute. She searched for a bit before finding a lilac, long sleeved, cold–shoulder top. It was a favorite of hers. Tight and flowy in all the right places. She was forever thankful that she’d been home the day Beau cleaned out his closet and had the chance to snap up a few things.

YN slipped off her shirt and pulled on the top before heading out of the room towards her bathroom. She was met part way by Beau with her hair care products in his hands.

“You’re not going to shower?” he asked.

“I showered three hours ago.”

At that Beau shrugged, but then there was this weird smile that graced his lips. It was one that YN was very familiar with and she’d already started shaking her head.

“Can I do your hair?” he asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you take too long. We wouldn’t leave for another hour at least because you’d overthink if something is even or if it looks good. And I’m guessing we don’t have that kind of time.”

Beau pursed his lips for a moment, but then shook his head.

“Exactly. So, give me fifteen minutes to do something with it and put on bare minimum make–up.”

He nodded and retreated from the bathroom. “I’ll text Yoonie and then go down to the car.”

YN gave a thumbs up before she got to work. Her make–up was truly bare minimum with some concealer, mascara, and a touch of gloss. Enough to keep her from looking like she’d worked twelve–hour shifts but not too much that she felt the need to do a full face. Then once that was done, she whipped off her bonnet and took down the twists. She’d planned to leave the twist–out in for a few days, but it needed washing so it could come down sooner.

It took her a total of five minutes to get the hair down, placed how she wanted, and her edges laid. A spritz of oil and some mild teasing of her curls and she was pleased.

She indeed looked cute enough to be happy with herself.

After grabbing her phone, purse, and backup charger she made quick work of slipping on a random pair of shoes and making her way downstairs to Beau’s car. He was pulled up to the door when she arrived, so the moment she slipped in they were off.

For the first ten minutes of the drive they listened to music and belted the lyrics, but just as they grew closer to the shop Beau turned it down.

“You have to be nice to people,” he said, fixing YN with a look that made her close her mouth as she went to protest. “I know you think you’re not mean, but you’re mean. You can’t be mean. Talk to people before you decide they’re dicks and then you can be however you want. But you’re here to have fun, destress, and socialize. Even if it’s only a little. And no, Yoongi and I don’t count.”

YN sighed, but nodded. But then a thought popped into her head.

“So that means–”

Beau cut her off just as he parked behind the shop. “No. No Jungkook or Jin or any of the boys either. You must branch out to someone else.”

Of course, he was right, so she was just going to go with it. Plus, there was one week where all YN thought about in her off time was that she needed to go out more. However, all her friends happened to be busy that whole week and she couldn’t be bothered to venture out on her own.

“Okay, dad.”

At that Beau glared at her before getting out of the car. YN laughed so hard she barely managed to get her belt off and to the back door before he opened it.

Once they were in the building she could hear the faint sound of music playing and it just happened to be a song she loved. YN followed Beau through the backroom to the hallway that led to all the tattoo rooms and then eventually to the spacious lobby area.

There were people loitering about mingling with each other, but it was not as many as YN originally feared. And honestly fewer people than when Yoongi usually threw get–togethers. So, it was a win for her.

The moment they stepped into view most people’s attention turned to them. Yoongi – who was in the middle of a conversation with Jimin, Namjoon, and someone else YN couldn’t see clearly – smiled their way. He broke from the group with his arms opened and Beau moved quickly towards him, but he was bypassed for YN.

As YN wrapped her arms around Yoongi in a tight hug she smirked at Beau over his shoulder. Beau pouted and glared at them.

“Does he look ready to murder us yet?” Yoongi whispered, amusement clear in his voice.

“Nah, just being a big baby.”

At that Yoongi laughed and pulled away from YN, but that didn’t mean he turned to greet his boyfriend. No, instead he reached up and gently pinch YN’s cheek which earned him a slap of the hand.

“Good to see you’re still eating properly with all that work you’re doing. Those precious cheeks looking plumper than usual, baby sister. So cute,” he cooed.

YN rolled her eyes so hard surely they should’ve gotten stuck. Yoongi always got weird when he didn’t see her for long periods of time because of work. It was cute, but also slightly embarrassing. Like the last time he’d called her little sister in a room full of people YN could count the number of people on two hands who tried to process this Korean man calling some Black woman his little sister.

“Of course, I eat. You constantly leave me food or send delivery to my job. Or have Jin come from all the way on the opposite side of the hospital at mealtimes to bully me into eating at specific times,” YN said.

All Yoongi did was smile and wink at her before turning around to face Beau. Of course, Beau tried to maintain his pout, but all it took was Yoongi smiling and kissing him for that to stop. While YN made fake gagging sounds in the background.

That earned her another glare from Beau, but again it didn’t last long as he looked between her and Yoongi.

“At this point you may as well find a way to adopt her,” Beau said.

“Oh, don’t worry. Mom already has the paperwork going,” Yoongi said.

It was hard to tell if he was joking though. He’d hinted at that before and since his mother had taken to her the same way he had; it wasn’t impossible that it would be a thought. And if YN was honest, she didn’t mind. His family was amazing and she loved them to pieces. They also reciprocated that love and it felt like she’d belonged somewhere for the first time. Like she had family for the first time in years.

YN shook her head as she tried to get her mind from wandering down that path. It wasn’t great and she didn’t want to ruin her night by thinking about someone who didn’t matter to her. Someone who she didn’t matter to.

“Oh, Hobi’s here. You can finally meet him, Sid. You two always manage to never be in the same place at the same time,” Beau said.

Nodding, YN followed them over to where the boys were standing around. Before she could even speak she was wrapped in hugs. And all of them were so tight that she was unsure if they were trying to break her. Once that was done she stepped a bit away so they didn’t think of clinging to her again.

“Hi to you too,” she mumbled while rubbing one of her sore arms.

Jin laughed as he watched her. “That’s what you get when you go MIA for so long. Even I had trouble finding you and we pretty much worked all the same shifts.”

“Maybe you’d find me if you didn’t spend so much time flirting with all the nurses in my department,” she said.

Naturally Jin didn’t mind being called out in the slightest and merely smirked at her. The dork loved himself a little too much sometimes. Or honestly the ladies loved him a little too much. And men. And non–binary people. Just everyone. Everyone loved him a little too much and as a respectful “fuckboy” he ate it all up.

“Before we’re forced to hear about Jin and the new male nurse in cardiology. YN meet Hoseok. Hoseok, YN,” Yoongi said.

Finally, YN glanced the way of the mystery man from earlier and her eyes widened a fraction. She would’ve been embarrassed if his expression didn’t mirror hers.

He looked almost exactly like that last – and first – time she saw him months ago, except his hair was longer and a light brown. It looked good on him, like way too good that she was imagining how things would have differed if she’d had all that to pull on.

Of course, while she mildly fantasized the others stared them down and descended into confusion when neither spoke a word.

“Uh, y’all good?” Beau asked cautiously.

“Do you know each other or something?” Namjoon asked.

Not taking their eyes off each other they both nodded. But Yoongi didn’t find that sufficient and pinched YN, drawing her out of the momentary shock.

“Uh, yeah. We met a few months ago in a club,” she said.

Hoseok nodded. “We slept together.”

That made everyone freeze, mouths and eyes opened wide in shock. But that shock did not last long at all.

Yoongi lost it a little. “Oh goodness, no. No. No. No. You made me listen to you go into detail about that. You basically just gave me a preview of my little sister’s sex life. No.”

Hoseok appeared to be embarrassed by that, but not so much that he tried to escape or hide away. And YN was almost equally disgusted, but not because her sex life had been divulged. She had no qualms with that seeing as she’d done the same thing. But thinking about Yoongi knowing anything that happened that night was just so weird. Her body literally shuddered at the thought.

“My bad,” Hoseok said.

“Yeah, your bad,” Yoongi said.

From there silence remained within the group, but then something shifted in Yoongi and he looked ready to square up with Hoseok.

“Did you sleep with her and kick her out? Hoseok, so help me if you treated her like trash I will hurt you.”

YN quickly moved to put a hand on his shoulder and push him back a bit.

“Whoa, there. None of that happened. We slept together and he offered to let me stay the night. The next morning I got dressed and we said our goodbyes. He was very nice,” she said.

It took a moment or two before Yoongi calmed down, but when he did he appeared remorseful for his little outburst. And though YN was a little surprised and knew it was unnecessary some part of her was warmed by having someone willing to back her up.

“Sorry,” Yoongi mumbled.

However, despite Yoongi pulling it together, Beau was looking at Hoseok as if not sure if he was upset with him or not. Which was not good seeing as YN knew of the two Beau was most likely to hurt some feelings on behalf of those he cared about. And it didn’t matter how close he was to the other person, if you fucked up, you fucked up and he was going to tell you about yourself.

“Is this going to make things awkward?” Beau asked.

“It shouldn’t,” Hoseok said.

At the same time YN replied with, “Nope.”

That appeased him enough and YN hoped all of it would stop there, but obviously that couldn’t be the case.

“Go talk,” Yoongi said.

“What? Why?” YN whined.

Yoongi fixed her with a serious expression and she knew immediately that he wasn’t going to budge. “Because I need to be sure it won’t be awkward so you need to go talk about this. Also, I just need a moment away from both of you until the mental image stops.”

“But–” Hoseok started.

“Let’s just do it. He’ll push for forever and then it’ll be bigger than it is. Plus, you did just mentally scar him.”

Sighing, he stood straight up and nodded. “Fair.”

YN stepped out of the way so that he could get by and extended her arm in a flourish.

“Lead the way.”

And lead he did. Hoseok took her towards the back and didn’t stop until he entered one of the artist rooms. It was one YN had never been in before so she assumed it was his and was proven correct when she saw some polaroids of him tattooing on the wall next to some sketches.

While she took in the space Hoseok had taken a seat in his rolling stool and watched her. He didn’t rush the conversation, just observed her. And from the way he angled down to her lower half when she finally looked his way, he was also checking her out.

YN smirked at that.

“We fucked, it was good, we did it again in the morning before I left, and there are no hard feelings right?”

That made Hoseok laugh. “As blunt as you were then. You keep that up and I might need another round right now.”

“Another round?”

“Yup.”

“Right here?”

“Yup.”

Then it was YN’s turn to laugh. “You must want Yoon to kill you.”

“I’d be fine with that. At least I got to have some great sex before I die. And isn’t that all anyone could ever ask for?”

And just like that she remembered why she’d even wanted to go home with Hoseok that night. His bright smile, the easy back and forth, the fact that she most definitely wanted to sit on his face and he was more than down for that.

From that point in their conversation, they went to talking about the ideal thing to do before death and then somehow got to talking about some YouTube video Hoseok had seen. It reached the point where he whipped out his phone to show her, standing up so she could see better. Though because of the length standing got annoying fast and despite there being a perfectly good tattoo chair that they could recline next to them, Hoseok sat on his stool and pulled YN onto his lap.

They were so wrapped up in what they were talking about and then watching, that neither of them realized how long they’d been gone. Or how that would look.

Yoongi burst into the room suddenly as if to catch them in the act and neither of them even flinched. And despite them clearly not being up to anything he still glared at Hoseok like he was planning his death.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asked.

YN shrugged, turning the phone so he could see. “Watching a thirty–minute video about drama in the YouTube beauty industry.”

For a moment Yoongi’s glare stopped and his brows knitted in confusion as he squinted to see the screen. But as quick as his aggression left it returned.

“On his lap?”

“We got tired of standing,” she said.

At that Yoongi raised a brow and gestured to the tattoo chair as if the answer were obvious, and it was but it didn’t really matter.

YN groaned. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re sitting on his lap!”

“Just be happy it’s all I’m sitting on,” she mumbled.

The gasp that left Yoongi afterwards made her aware that she hadn’t said it low enough, and before she could say anything else he stormed out of the room murmuring about needing bleach.

“Wait, Yoon. I’m sorry,” she shouted as she got up and went after him. Though she was laughing so it didn’t make it any better.

From there she was forced to chase Yoongi around the party until he let her hug him and promised not to murder Hoseok. Of course, it took some of Beau’s help for the second thing because any time Hoseok made a case for himself you could tell Yoongi was thinking about it even more.

After that, she moved about talking to the people she knew, but somehow always ended up in some corner talking with Hoseok about anything and everything. It was nice and she didn’t hate being forced out of her home as much. Of course, she was still tired so a good time and a nice conversation didn’t remove the longing fully.

As things winded down and people started to leave the core group – the people who worked there and close friends – all huddled near the waiting area. They all joked around and dragged each other for everything under the sun. Most things weren’t off limits so it led to a lot of dodging random punches to the arms if anyone felt any kind of way. But no one ever crossed a line.

It remained that way until even they got tired and were ready to head home. YN got up from her seat to use the bathroom and Beau hopped up with her.

“I’ll come with you,” he said.

YN paused and turned to look at him with a raised brow.

“Why?”

“Because.”

Arguing was always a choice, but it was also a waste of time and she really had to pee. So, without a word YN turned and headed to the bathroom with Beau hot on her heels. Once inside she was grateful it was two stalls so she had some distance between them, but it wasn’t much since Beau felt the need to lean against the closed stall door as he talked to her.

“So, what are the odds you sleep with Hobi again?” he asked.

YN rolled her eyes. Of course, that’s what he wanted.

“Moderate to high seeing as I’ll probably see him more often now that he’s not guesting at shops all the time and we’ll be in each other’s presence a lot more. Plus, he is single and I have no objections to sleeping with him if he’s down.”

“Wait. Did you just give in? That quickly? Oh, come on you usually make me work for it or deny, deny, deny until I leave you alone.”

There was the sound of a toilet flush before YN answered.

“Maybe it’s because you’re a nosy Nancy and I know you won’t let this go. Plus, what is the point of lying to you when I’m sure everyone noticed me checking him out more than once in the past few hours,” she said.

With a slightly harder push she indicated her want to exit the stall and Beau moved to let her out. She tried to avoid his gaze, but she saw him in the mirror as she went to wash her hands.

Beau stared at her with eyes wide, but slowly a smirk graced his lips. Which was all YN needed to see to know he was not done with his questions despite getting an answer from her so easily.

“So, is this a fucking thing or could it be a dating thing? Do I finally get to go on double dates with you again? We haven’t had those since you and that doctor Jin works with broke up.”

“I don’t know. I’m not even saying we’re going to have sex again; I’m saying I’m not opposed. Whatever happens, happens,” she said, but just as she finished rinsing she continued, “And for the love of Zeus please do not mention that man ever again. He’s been trying to enact some sort of at work booty call situation and has Jin passing me notes. I would rather do anything else but remember dating him.”

At that Beau laughed, well more like he cackled. He found amusement in hearing about how that man just didn’t know how to take a hint. Of course, YN’s “ex” had never gone as far as to make her uncomfortable or cross a line, but he was so damn annoying and she was beyond over it.

“Okay, okay. I’ll let it go. And I’ll never bring up Dr. Mistakes–Anal–Beads–As–Candy.”

Before YN could even turn around Beau ran away, sprinting out of the bathroom at a speed he reserved for when he knew his ass was going to be kicked. And YN did plan to kick it but decided not to once she’d gotten out of the bathroom. At least not do it right then, she’d get her revenge another time. An unexpected time.

So, while Beau ran to hide YN took her sweet time making it back out front. When she appeared Beau was hiding behind Joon and she didn’t even bat an eyelash or glance his way. She wanted to build the fear.

With their return everyone started to say their goodbyes and gave out an unnecessary amount of hugs. Yoongi had an early morning work thing so he was going back to his apartment, which meant he and Beau being soft on a vomit inducing level for a few minutes. It was a win for YN because she didn’t have to hear them or happen on their naked forms at some point, but as she was forced to see them snuggle into each other and cooing she kind of wished he was coming back with them. Or that Beau was going with him.

Thankfully, Hoseok appeared in front of her and his presence gave her something else to focus on, even if she could still hear them. Though even that went out the window the moment he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I would be more than okay with sleeping with you again. Like very much so down for that to the point that you could ask me right now,” he said.

YN scoffed at that, knowing he must’ve heard Beau in the bathroom. Which wasn’t hard seeing as he’d asked the questions loudly despite them being in the same space.

“Eavesdropping, are we?” YN asked.

Hoseok laughed and shrugged. “Just in the right place at the right time. And I’m very glad I was.”

“Ah, okay. Well, I’ll make sure to remember your answer to this thing you didn’t eavesdrop on,” she said.

He pulled away, but only enough to meet her eyes. “You should. You should even give me your number so we can maybe make it a thing.”

Though part of her wanted to laugh, something about the eye contact and smooth words made her just hand over her unlocked phone. Which made Hoseok smile wider than she’d seen, something that she thought would be impossible.

Once he put the number in and called himself he handed it back. YN thought he’d give her space after that, but he just leaned in again. That time he was close enough that she felt his breath on her neck and it sent a tingle down her spine.

“Oh, and I’m down for the dating thing too. So, text me when you have the time to let me take you out,” he whispered.

That time a tingle coursed through her for a different reason, and in a different place.

YN planned to take him up on those offers, but of course work happened.

Things at the hospital weren’t even hectic, but for some reason she worked ten times more than she had for months. She was in a constant state of movement, to the point where she ate while walking the halls to do things and only ever sat in the car ride home and when she went to bed. Her body wasn’t happy at all, but it knew there was no stopping.

Or it at least knew that it would get a short break in between and kept going until that time came.

Her work week was at its end on a Tuesday night. It would be almost two weeks off for her since she’d taken on such a workload that she was mandated a longer off time and her vacation time coincided with that. It was a miracle. Or that’s what it felt like with how shitty her day had been.

It was non–stop running around because an accident occurred and she was in and out of surgeries. Nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but on one operating table there was a pregnant woman who’d been on her way in because of labor. In the end she was fine but trying to stop the bleeding and safely deliver the baby was a draining task.

After that YN was allowed time to shower and eat, because ten hours in surgery was no joke.

And because of the strenuous work she’d been moved to doing only charts for her last few hours. There weren’t a lot so she trudged along slowly to get them done. She finished her last one about fifteen minutes before her shift was over.

Of course, she usually hid until time was up but something possessed her to go to the nurses’ station to check on things. However, when she arrived at the station she was surprised to see who was standing there.

Jin was flirting with the head nurse as usual, though the woman merely ignored him. It wasn’t like he was one hundred percent serious and she was older and married. Her kids were Jin’s age. So, the young doctor with his smooth words didn’t faze her. But the true surprise was that Hoseok was leaning against the counter next to him talking with a male nurse.

None of them paid her any attention until she got closer and cleared her throat.

With her presence clear Hoseok turned to her and she watched as his smile grew and though she returned it confusion bloomed.

Naturally, Jin didn’t let her curiosity last too long.

“Looks like Hobi was right on time. Though I’m glad you showed up instead of making me search your hiding spots,” he said.

“Right on time for what?” she asked.

“Oh, he got tired of the conflicting schedules so he demanded to know when you would be free so he could ta–”

Hoseok cut him off, using his hand to cover Jin’s.

“What he’s trying to say is that I wanted to go out with you soon and I thought this was the easiest way. Though it might seem a little creepy, but I’d hope you could look past that since you did joke about the only way this would work is if I were spontaneous. Plus, you said you’re off for a while after today,” Hoseok said.

Though he appeared confident in his words she could see some uncertainty in his eyes. He probably worried he’d crossed a line. And though usually she’d be put off by that, he wasn’t wrong she had said it. Plus, she’d been serious and joking. With the way life was there was always a high chance she’d keep forgetting or having something else to do. Or he’d be busy with work himself.

But got damn was she tired and in no way prepared to go out with anyone. That must have been clear in her expression though, because Hoseok was already talking.

“I know, you’re ending a week of intense shifts. And Jin told me this one was not great by any means. We’re not going out, going out. I had something planned for us to stay in. It could be your place or mine. Nothing crazy or that requires energy or paying much attention. Promise.”

YN pursed her lips for a moment, but she didn’t hate the idea. She was tired, exhausted was probably the better term, but being in the company of someone else in a relaxing environment sounded good.

“That’s fine,” she said.

In an instant she watched all worry leave his face and his smile brighten even more. That time she had no reservations about returning it.

“Let me finish up and go get my stuff and I can meet you at the main entrance?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out front.”

“Okay.”

They stood there for a moment staring at each other until Jin got fed up and lightly shoved YN in the opposite direction. After glaring at him she finally made her away around the nurses’ station to talk for a moment with the doctor taking over. It was a few minutes before she headed to the locker rooms and switched from her scrubs to a pair of joggers and a too big hoodie she’d stolen from Yoongi some time ago.

After a quick bye to her people and Jin – who had a few hours more of his shift – she headed to the main entrance. Hoseok wasn’t right in front because that was illegal, so she had to jog a little to get to his car. He leaned over to push the door open for her and she slid in, dropping her small backpack on the floor in front of her.

Once she’d gotten her seatbelt on she expected him to start driving, but after several seconds of nothing she turned to look at him. He wore an amused expression as he watched her.

“What?” she asked.

“You haven’t told me where you would prefer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

He chuckled at her obvious forgetfulness.

“It’s wherever you want, love,” he said.

“Uh…”

YN pulled her lower lip between her teeth and nibbled on it while she weighed her choices. At home she’d get comfortable instantly and have everything that she needed at her fingertips. But at the same time she didn’t want to deal with Yoongi being weird and overprotective and she knew he’d be there that night. But Hoseok’s meant spending a night in a bed she was only mildly familiar with, which would end in her waking up more disoriented than usual after a shift like the one she had.

After a minute or so of debate, her sanity won out.

“Yours.”

“Okay then, it shouldn’t ta–”

“But I need to stop by my apartment to get some things–”

They both spoke at the same time and paused when they heard the other. There was silence for a few seconds and then laughter. YN motioned for Hoseok to continue.

“I was saying that it shouldn’t take long. I don’t live far from here. And to answer what you were saying, Beau summoned me to your apartment and gave me that,” he said while pointing to the back seat.

There sat one of YN’s weekend trip bags and immediately she rolled her eyes. Of course, Beau somehow foresaw that she’d chose to go to Hoseok’s or at least he hoped enough to raid her room for things she’d need.

Sometimes she questioned how close they were when she found herself unbothered by him going into her room to pick clothes for her. But alas what was done was done.

“Well, I guess straight to yours it is.”

Hoseok nodded and they were off. He didn’t try to make conversation and for that YN was glad. Despite the time to decompress at work with her charting it was never good enough because she was still in the environment. On the way home was a good time for her to process and move on with her day. It helped keep the bad things from lingering if she got them out of the way. It also lowered her emotional sensitivity. Sometimes the smallest thing could set her off after a hard day if she didn’t sit with it for a moment.

By the time she finished they were in the parking garage of his building and had been for several minutes. She only realized when her brain registered that she hadn’t felt the vibrations of the car for some time. Free from her haze she turned to look at Hoseok in confusion.

He smiled. “You were deep in thought, so I wanted to let you finish whatever it was. Not like we’re in a rush anyway.”

At that YN could feel her cheeks heat a little, though not enough that a blush would be clear. She murmured a soft thank you and they got out of the car.

Though she’d been able to grab her backpack from the floor without a problem, Hoseok snatched up her other bag and tossed it over his shoulder. And from the look on his face when she’d reached for it there hadn’t been any use in trying to take it from him. So, she followed him as he led her through the garage and into the building. Once inside he slowed and when they were next to each other his hand went to her lower back, guiding her to the elevators.

Though she’d been a bit drunk the last time she’d come to his apartment she could still remember the way up. Her brain hit her with a barrage of images at every step and once inside the elevator it played out the whole scene of them practically humping each other as they made out.

Hoseok seemed to remember as well because he laughed and then looked at her with a smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow, but of course she wasn’t actually bothered at all.

“Don’t think it’s happening again,” she said.

“Don’t think what’s happening again?” he asked, faux innocence coloring his voice.

Yet another eye roll and laughter from him before the doors opened on his floor and he guided her out. The apartment was the last one in the hallway which meant she had to deal with his teasing the entire way there. Once he input the code she pushed the door open to get away from him and his poking.

It was exactly how her fuzzy and then morning brain remembered. Organized with a few things thrown here and there, but by no means messy. There was also a strong smell of what could have been lavender, but YN couldn’t tell.

“You can set your stuff down in the bedroom. And shower if you want. I know you’ve had a long day, so it could help,” he said as he finally handed over her bag.

For a moment YN thought to turn him down because she’d showered, but then she realized how icky she felt. Showers at work weren’t always the best for feeling truly clean no matter how long you stayed in there or how hard you scrubbed.

“I think I’ll take you up on that,” she said.

Nodding, Hoseok led her to his bedroom and then to the ensuite. She set her backpack down in a corner of the room and brought the weekend bag with her. Once she entered the bathroom Hoseok was turning on the shower and then pulling out a towel, rag, and pointed out the body wash for her.

“That should be it,” he said, but paused glancing at her. “Do you need something for your hair?”

YN smiled at the consideration but shook her head.

“I don’t care a whole lot if the braids get wet and I’m sure Beau packed something for me. But thank you.”

Moving forward she pressed a kiss to his cheek, which made him freeze. When she pulled away he’d collected himself and was smiling at her. He stared for a moment before excusing himself so that she could get her shower in. Telling her to call out for him if she needed anything.

Since she’d showered a few hours before it wasn’t a long one. Beau had packed a shower cap and her bonnet in the bag, along with some things that she most definitely didn’t need since she had no plans to have sex with Hoseok. And even if she did there was no need for the vibrator he put in there. But ignoring that she undressed and threw on the shower cap, jumping into the shower so she could get it done. She stood under the hot water for a while and it helped calm her further, but since she didn’t want to take a century in there she cut it shorter than her usual.

It took maybe ten minutes or less for her to get herself clean in a way that actually felt like it and then she was done. She dried off in the shower before stepping out. Quickly, she threw on her undergarments – thank goodness Beau packed a sports bra – and then a pair of pajama shorts, plus a too large t–shirt that she’d stolen from Beau who’d stolen it from Yoongi.

Once done she redid the bun her box braids were in and headed out with all her stuff. The moment she stepped foot into the bedroom she was met with a shirtless Hoseok in low hanging joggers.

It took everything in her not to stare at the tattoos like she’d done the first time they met. Tipsy her had the man unbuttoning his shirt in the bar so she could get a better look. How they didn’t get kicked out, she was unsure.

“Done already?” he asked, glancing up from his phone.

“Yeah. I took one at work, I just didn’t feel clean enough,” she said.

He nodded though she saw a look flash in his eyes for a second and then disappear as quick as it came. She assumed it was worry or pity, something she was used to when she said things like that. People tended to think she was trying to wash away something that wasn’t physically there and they wouldn’t be completely wrong in that assumption.

YN placed her bag near the backpack and then turned back to Hoseok with a raised brow.

“So, what are we doing?” she asked.

Hoseok pursed his lips as if in deep thought, but in a second it was replaced with yet another smile. “I was thinking of watching The Old Guard and finishing that season of Kakegurui. We don’t have to move onto season two, but I need to get to the end before I lose it.”

They’d been watching that anime together via Facetime for a few weeks and were maybe four or five episodes out from finishing. And YN wanted to get that done as much as he did. But she also had been upset for weeks about not getting to watch Old Guard. Like upset enough that she accused Beau of betrayal when he watched it without her and Yoongi had to play mediator. Though she was upset with him too, despite his somewhat convincing lie about falling asleep halfway through it.

But regardless of that she couldn’t help the happy feeling that filled her for him remembering that and for thinking it was something she’d enjoy. He was very right and honestly, it was what she needed to fully immerse herself into the relaxation of a break.

“That sounds great,” she said, smiling way too hard.

Without a word Hoseok reached out for her hand and she let him take it. Their fingers laced together as they walked out into the living room. Out there the TV was set up and the couch had a few blankets as well as some fluffy looking pillows. And since it was one of the larger ones that were in an L–shape she knew she’d fit comfortably on it no matter which way she laid.

She was led all the way to the couch and Hoseok practically ripped her arm off pulling her down with him. YN gasped and struggled to right herself as she was practically swallowed by the blankets. It took several seconds to get comfortable, but before she could truly settle into that Hoseok pulled her closer so that she was practically on top of him.

When he stopped moving her around she slapped his arm.

“Excuse me, sir. You’re getting mighty comfortable are you not?”

Hoseok snorted. “I’ve slept with you and despite only seeing each other a handful of times over several weeks I’ve made it very clear I’m into you. And you fell asleep during that one group movie night using my thigh as a pillow. So not a word about being comfortable, ma’am.”

YN scoffed at that but didn’t say anything. She had a very vivid memory of waking up the next morning still pressed against his thigh. If everyone hadn’t been sprawled out around them, she would’ve been much more embarrassed than she had been. Which wasn’t that much since the man's thighs made a nice, firm pillow.

“Fine,” she mumbled.

“That’s what I thought. Now what are you craving for dinner?” he asked, pulling out his phone and adjusting it for both to see.

Before she opened her mouth to ask what the options were, he already had a folder where he kept all his takeout apps open. She perused the page until something caught her eye and then she tapped the little app for a pizza place she liked.

“I thought you avoided greasy food after a shift?” he asked.

YN tilted her head back and pouted at him. Of course he was right, but she wasn’t in the mood for something light and healthy. She’d deal with the consequences later.

“Are you going to deny me what I want?” she asked, her voice gentle.

Hoseok’s expression softened as he reached over to boop her nose. But then he stuck his tongue out at her.

“You know I’m not, so stop pouting. And I don’t want to hear not one complaint when you feel like shit in the morning,” he mumbled the last part.

“I will complain as I damn well please!” YN shouted in a burst of energy.

All Hoseok did was roll his eyes and shove the phone closer to her face so she could put toppings on her pizza and order whatever else she wanted. She didn’t get much else. Besides the pizza she got a large coke that she made clear wouldn’t be shared and fries because why the hell not.

Fries were never a bad choice. Even when she felt like crap the morning after.

With food ordered, Hoseok wrangled her into another position and pressed play on Netflix. She planned to argue but she felt so comfortable and her body physically relaxed, so there was no urge to call him out. Besides, he knew what she was okay with and she knew that if she was actually uncomfortable, he’d accept being called out. They wouldn’t have survived that night after sex if they hadn’t been clear on what was and wasn’t okay.

YN got so caught up in watching and being comfortable that time passed quickly and before she knew it they were halfway through the second episode and his doorbell was ringing. She groaned and fussed about having to move but got up without much persuasion.

Hunger was still present despite the need for comfort more than anything.

Hoseok went and came back in minutes. By then YN paused the show and moved down to the floor so she sat in front of the coffee table. He laid out all the food, placing her box of pizza in front of her, along with everything else.

The urge to eat at the smell of the food was strong, but she waited until he returned from the kitchen with glasses and got comfortable next to her. She opened her box carefully and smiled as she looked at the pepperoni, bacon, jalapeno pizza with heart eyes. No time was wasted grabbing a slice and taking a bite.

By some miracle she didn’t moan out loud afterwards.

It had been so long since she’d had that pizza or any pizza at all. She’d been busy with work and thus that meant avoiding greasy things for the most part. Even when someone had brought it into the breakroom she had opted to grab a poptart before she ran off somewhere. She didn’t realize that she actually missed it.

The way she ate it made her feel almost like a pig, but she’d only consumed three or so slices in the time it took the episode to finish and the next to reach its halfway point. And Hoseok hadn’t made any sort of comment, not that he would judge her about how she inhaled her food.

Though she had spent that time focused on the TV and her food, not even sparing a glance at Hoseok. Carefully she turned her head to see him equally as focused as she was, and his pizza almost gone. Her eyes went wide as she looked from his to hers and back again. She’d seen him eat before, but it still shocked her how fast he could consume food.

Did he even chew?

After about forty–five seconds of her watching him Hoseok turned his head to look her way. He swallowed the crust he’d shoved into his mouth and raised a brow.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I don’t think you even chewed that.”

He merely shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

“I did chew,” he mumbled after.

“For what? Two seconds?” she asked incredulously.

That made him laugh; one of those throw your head back kind. It lasted for several seconds and at some point YN shook her head and moved her attention back to the TV. Hoseok tried to get her attention after but she shrugged him off, even as he poked her side repeatedly and whined in her ear about wanting attention.

As minutes went by it was a little hard to ignore him, but as the last episode queued up she closed her pizza box – despite having half left – and moved on to her fries. Which got him to stop since she was eating and poking a stomach while someone ate was cause for not a great time.

But sadly, she barely ate a third of them before she felt the tightening of her stomach and knew it was best to stop. It wasn’t unbearable and she didn’t want to make it that way.

Once she pushed it away from her Hoseok took that as the cue to start cleaning things up and preparing them to be put away. After downing some of her coke in hopes of a burp to make her feel not bloated she went to help, but her hands were smacked away. That didn’t deter her, but after the fourth smack she glared at Hoseok.

“Why are you stopping me?”

Hoseok paused in his cleaning, turning to her to smirk and wink.

“Because. Now go get comfortable. We’re going back to the couch and staying there for the rest of the night.”

YN pursed her lips for a moment before huffing and leaning back against the couch.

“Fine. So bossy,” she mumbled, though not low enough.

Again, Hoseok paused and turned to her, but his expression was different. Amusement and a glint of mischief lurked in his eyes. The kind of mischief that sent a tingle down her spine and elsewhere.

“If you truly want bossy, we can always go back to you calling me Daddy, darling. I have no problem changing around this night since you want to misbehave,” he said.

Naturally, YN stared him down unbothered by his words. Of course, they did something to arouse her, but she was also a brat and wouldn’t back down from such a small amount of intimidation. Especially when she wasn’t submersed in that mindset before the topic was brought up.

They stayed that way for a while. Just staring and waiting for the other to back down, however neither of them did. What stopped them was a yawn that YN tried to keep at bay breaking to the surface.

His entire demeanor shifted despite the fact that YN saw he was clearly trying to keep his composure. Once he got his expression under control he pointed towards the couch and took everything to the kitchen.

Part of YN wanted to remain where she was, but she also didn’t want to start something she couldn’t finish. And that yawn reminded her of how tired she was – at least physically. She could fight sleep for a while, but her body felt a little sore and heavy. There was no point in keeping the little game going, so she dragged herself up from the floor and headed off to the bathroom to pee real quick. When she returned Hoseok wasn’t back yet, so she crawled onto the couch and positioned herself on her side against the corner of it.

A few minutes passed before he returned and when he did she was laying there scrolling through her twitter feed. She didn’t even notice his presence until he fell onto the couch, putting almost all his body weight on her in the process.

It took a minute or two to get him off, and when he finally freed her he snatched her phone to place on the other side of him. She was ready to take it back, but like the first time they got on the couch he pulled her into his arms to cuddle and placed half her body on top of his.

“So, we have ten minutes left on this last episode and then Old Guard?” he asked.

YN nodded, not finding any reason to disagree with what he said. Nothing in her no longer wanted to go along with the plan, if anything she was more eager now that she was calmer and had food in her system.

“Okay,” he said.

With that he started the episode up again and YN focused on the screen. It wasn’t like anything too exciting was happening, but either way she didn’t want to miss it.

Once the ten minutes was up they stared at each other for a little while and said nothing. After a while they both shrugged and Hoseok put on Old Guard. YN hyper focused on it, her excitement bubbling in her stomach. However, she found it hard to focus no matter how much she was enjoying it. Her mind kept drifting back to the last episode – or well, the whole season. She couldn’t wrap her mind around what it was, but she didn’t want to spend the whole time trying to figure it out.

She was ready to let it go until Hoseok sighed.

Tilting her head a little she looked up at him and was met with furrowed brows and a perplexed expression.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

Hoseok seemed startled by her sudden question because his eyes went wide for a second before he pulled it together.

“No. Everything’s fine,” he said.

That was obviously false and YN planned to push him on it, but then he sighed again.

“Okay, maybe it’s not fine. Nothing is wrong, at least nothing bad. But is it bad that I don’t know how to feel about the show and the ending?”

YN shook her head, pleased to see he felt the same way.

“Oh, my goodness no. I haven’t been able to focus because I couldn’t figure out if I loved it or thought it was meh or anything. Like I know it wasn’t bad, but what do I feel? What does that ending make me feel?”

His body visibly relaxed.

“Oh, thank goodness it wasn’t just me.”

And just like that their movie was forgotten and they discussed the anime in depth. All their thoughts on scenes and the questions they had while watching and still had after finishing it. They got so wrapped up in it that by the time they finished it was really late and they decided to try and watch the movie the next day.

That night they fell asleep wrapped up in each other, closer than they’d been on the couch. Which felt impossible.

“That’s not allowed! The rules don’t allow you to stack cards. No. No!” Jimin yelled, trying to force Yoongi’s cards back into his hands.

Yoongi smirked and simply slapped them back on top of the pile.

“Yes, you can. Now draw sixteen, bitch!”

Jimin squirmed where he sat on the floor and whined some more.

“It is not. You can’t do that,” Jimin said.

Not uttering a word, Yoongi simply pointed towards YN who was laughing at Jimin’s crybaby antics to the point that tears were falling. Every time she tried to pull it together she looked at his face and saw how upset he was and started laughing again. It took about four attempts to get it together over a minute before she could speak.

“Thems the rules,” she said.

Of course, that didn’t please Jimin at all, but when he looked around for back up no one offered their support. After rolling his eyes so hard they should’ve gotten stuck, he grabbed his sixteen cards from the stack. And he called Yoongi every word in the book while doing it.

From there the game progressed with more yelling about what wasn’t allowed and Beau and YN locked in an intense battle for who would get Uno first. They kept yelling at each other and glaring whenever one of them did something to screw over the other. When they got down to their last card it seemed like one of them would lunge at the other at any given moment.

As the end drew near, YN was focused on the cards being placed down and stopping Taehyung from leaning over to peek at her hand. She had one blue and one red draw two that she needed to throw down, she just needed the right colors.

And the universe did not let her down.

Taehyung dropped a blue card as he stacked it with a yellow and immediately she began to laugh. One of those kinda creepy ones that you would expect from a villain. Turning her head she stared at Beau – who was after her – while she placed the cards down.

“Uno. Uno out, bitch! And draw four,” she shouted.

Though she wanted to savor that moment of staring at Beau’s enraged face she knew that she was in danger. YN’s next move was to roll away from the group, which was perfect timing since Beau already swung to punch her in the arm. She didn’t stop until her body bumped into the couch and someone’s legs, which was far enough away to get Beau to let her be, though the glare he fixed her with could’ve killed her.

All YN could do was smile, wink, and then finger gun at him. Which made him throw an empty can of beer at her, but his aim was shit so it sailed past YN and hit the small end table next to the couch instead.

The animosity fizzled after that though because the round was not over and of course if Beau couldn’t be first he needed to be second. Which meant destroying everyone else with all the stacks, reverses, color changes he had on hand. It was fun to watch them all groan and curse as he just laid out the cards each turn.

YN watched them intently but after a few moments the legs she’d rolled into lightly kicked her. She turned her head to look up at an amused but pouting Hoseok.

“Hi there,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Would you prefer to come up here? It’s more comfortable.”

For a moment YN pursed her lips as if actually thinking it over like it was some major decision, but Hoseok scoffed and kicked her again.

“Fine, fine. If you insist,” she said as she crawled up onto the couch.

She sat so that her legs were pulled under her and they had a few inches between them, but Hoseok didn’t approve. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer so that her leg touched his thigh and then he released her, but kept the arm wrapped loosely around her.

“You have to stop manhandling me, dude. At least take me on a date first,” she teased.

Hoseok scoffed. “We’ve had like four dates. What do you mean? And did you just dude me?”

YN rolled her eyes. “We’ve hung out four times in an apartment that was either yours or mine. And two of those times we slept the entire time. And yes, I did. What about it?”

“You fell asleep first one of those times,” Hoseok said incredulously, but he didn’t stop there. “And don’t act like you didn’t call those dates and consider them valid since you were so busy. Also, how dare you dude me? I thought I was better than dude?”

“Okay, fine you’re right. But you have not taken me out on a date that involves leaving the house. Also, why are you better then dude? Is there something else I should be calling you?” she asked.

There was silence for a few moments as Hoseok looked at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. He seemed appalled, but YN didn’t know which thing was the problem. With how dramatic he could be anything she said could have “offended” him.

After she poked him in the side a few times he broke his silence.

“Yes, actually. I am not a dude, I am a… I am your… I am…”

Not wanting to interfere, YN watched as he struggled to find the right word for whatever it was he was trying to say. It was amusing to watch how flustered he got as more time went by. At some point he started blushing from it, his ears and neck turning red. It was interesting to see his neck tattooed colored in because of how flustered he was.

And though patient YN decided after two minutes of stuttering and avoiding eye contact that she needed to move things along.

She leaned towards his ear and whispered. “You’re my what, Hobi? My friend? My lover? My boyfriend? My daddy? What is it?”

The way she spoke was so soft and almost innocent, which was intentional. YN loved messing with people in general, so Hoseok was in no way immune to her trying to rile him up. Not even a little bit.

However, while it usually took more to get a reaction out of him he was already reacting before she finished the word daddy. His fingers dug into her side and then suddenly he was tickling her. It was just one hand at first, but then his other joined in and YN started violently squirming in an attempt to get away.

“Stop,” she squealed.

That obviously didn’t help her at all, if anything Hoseok became more brutal with his tickling. At some point he eased up, but it was only as he adjusted himself to be over her since she’d fallen to the side upon his first attack and her body was sprawled across most of the couch.

It took who knows how long for him to stop tickling her and by then she was breathing so heavily that it was all she could hear. Though it surely didn’t stop what he whispered in her ear from breaking through.

“You don’t want to test your daddy right now. You will stop teasing me.”

The deepness of his voice excited her and part of her brain wanted her to consider where she was, but it was overshadowed by the part that was wrapped up in him or maybe that part of her simply didn’t care in that moment.

Slowly, she tilted her head back so she could look into his eyes. Hoseok’s soft expression was no more and in its place was a locked jaw and intense eyes. YN could feel her heart quicken and without thought her hands began moving on their own accord, one tangling in his hair.

She felt so drawn into him and bit her lower lip as she felt like her body was on fire. Desire came to the forefront and she could feel the arousal as it built up inside her. And with the way Hoseok’s lips turned up into a smirk it was clear he could tell how she felt; which only made her want it more. Want him more.

But again, they weren’t considering where they were.

One second Hoseok’s head was dipping down and the next it was whipping up, his lips forming a frown and his eyes fixated on something off the couch. Or someone.

“Ow. Why are you throwing things?” Hoseok said.

Confused, YN glanced around until she noticed an empty beer can on the floor in front of the couch. And after seeing that she followed Hoseok’s gaze to Yoongi who stood a few feet away clearly unamused.

“Maybe because I don’t want you two going at it on my couch. Or maybe because I don’t want to see you going at it at all. You are not fucking in my presence,” Yoongi said.

YN rolled her eyes.

“No one is fucking or going to fuck in your presence,” she groaned.

“Sure fucking looked like you were about to. And I would love for it to stop looking like that,” Yoongi retorted.

At that Hoseok moved and so did YN, choosing to sit up as she stared down the man she considered her older brother.

“Do I need to mention the love seat incident?” she asked.

At that him and Beau froze. They both averted their gaze, but YN could still see the blush work its way onto their faces.

“That wasn’t… definitely not the same,” Yoongi said.

“Ah yeah, very different. Worse actually. Because who the fuck has sex in a shared living space, let alone perio–”

“Nope. Shut it. Don’t you dare finish that sentence. We promised to never speak of it again,” Beau shouted, while looking like he was going to die of embarrassment.

“That’s what I thought,” YN said.

After that it was a bit awkward. Even YN – who’d been so confident seconds before – felt it. That and an intense heat, as if she weren’t in an air–conditioned space.

She needed to get out of there, but not because of the awkwardness. Well, mostly not because of it.

“I feel hot enough to pass out. I’m going for a walk,” she said as she stood up.

“It’s late I’ll–” Yoongi and Hoseok started at the same time.

They stared at each other after, but it didn’t last long as Yoongi gestured for Hoseok.

“Uh, I’ll go with you,” Hoseok said.

Shrugging, YN grabbed her phone from the coffee table and headed towards the door. There she slipped on her shoes and grabbed one of the lighter jackets hanging on the coat rack. Nobody would be leaving so it didn’t matter whose she took.

Hoseok was right behind her and she waited for him to be ready before heading out.

“Don’t have sex in public either,” Namjoon yelled after them.

YN didn’t miss a beat and shouted back. “Not everyone is like you and gets almost arrested for public indecency in the alley behind a cupcake shop. In broad daylight might I add.”

That left everyone laughing, even Hoseok. And without another word they were out of the apartment and in the elevator.

They remained silent as they headed down and even once they were out of the building and on the street.

Yoongi’s apartment wasn’t in the middle of the city, but it was near a popular area. Which meant that despite the lateness they had to maneuver around groups of people who walked or loitered about. Thankfully as they got a block or so away the number of people lessened. It didn’t mean they were completely alone, but they weren’t running into people every few seconds.

It was three blocks in when the silence between them was broken.

“Where are we going? If you wanted to walk we could’ve gone to the park, which is in the opposite direction,” Hoseok said.

YN shook her head.

“I didn’t say I was only going on a walk. I do plan to go to the park, but there’s something else I want first. Though if all this walking isn’t what you want to do I could continue alone. I’ve done it a million times later than it is now.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hoseok shake his head and huff.

“Nope. I said I’d come with you, so I’m following your lead. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

And to emphasize that point he reached over and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together. His grip was firm, but gentle enough that she didn’t feel the need to readjust or pull her hand away.

From there it didn’t take long for them to reach their destination, which was an ice cream shop. When Yoongi first moved apartments they’d all gone on a walk to get a look at the neighborhood and got lost along the way. It was dark out and most things were closed by the time they got back on track and they’d stumbled upon the place to see it still open. That’s when they learned that they could get ice cream until four in the morning no matter the day of the week.

It quickly became a favorite location of YN’s; she’d even come after work some days. Of course, it was out of the way in relation to her apartment, but that didn’t matter. Sometimes she just needed to sit in a nearly empty ice cream parlor and devour four scoops of ice cream covered in whipped cream to get through the day.

Hoseok appeared a little perplex as she turned, pushing the door to the place open but he didn’t utter a word. He simply watched her as she approached the counter with a bright smile on her face.

“Minho!” she called out.

One of the workers behind the counter whipped around in surprise, but the moment his eyes landed on her he smiled. He held up a finger and then turned back towards what he was doing.

“What flavors are you thinking?” YN asked.

Hoseok didn’t respond right away, which made her turn her head to glance at him. However, instead of looking at her he was up close to the window taking in the ice cream. His eyes were wide as he perused the options. It was cute to see him slowly become more excited as he assessed everything.

She’d gotten so caught up in watching him that she didn’t notice Minho walked up until he cleared his throat. YN looked up to look at him and was met with him glancing between her to Hoseok and doing that stupid eye brow wiggle thing. It made her roll her eyes hard.

“I thought you stopped working this shift? You didn’t take the test yet right?” she asked him.

Minho’s face went blank for a moment that made her worry, but then a smirk made its way onto his lips. He then proceeded to do that dorky little shoulder dance he only brought out when there was something to celebrate.

YN was immediately filled with joy.

“You did? You passed? Oh my goodness. Fuck yes!” she squealed.

That seemed to grab Hoseok’s attention as she noticed him looking at them a little confused. The urge to explain was there, but she was more so caught up in voicing her excitement for Minho.

“I told you you could do it. You were agonizing for nothing. That test is stressful enough without you adding your own overthinking stress,” she said, reaching over to high five him.

Minho rolled his eyes at that. “I know, I know. I psyched myself out. Now it’s done and the new issue is applying for schools. My score was great, but I’m still up against so many people.”

“And you will get into so many places you apply. You’re applying to us right?” she asked.

At first she thought he was going to tell her no, which would result in her being a little pissy with him, but not much seeing as it was his future.

“Of course, I am. You and Jin would kill me if I didn’t and with all the help you’ve both been for getting through undergrad there is no way I would pass up the chance for a residency there. Plus that internship I did means I qualify for more scholarships there. Two of which mean a full ride.”

“I knew I taught you well,” YN said, pride filling her.

Once their little moment was over she turned to Hoseok still appeared confused, but also he seemed to be content. As if something about the interaction had brought him a little bit of happiness despite him being an on looker.

“Hoseok, this is Minho. He’s a pre–med student, soon to be med student. He interned with Jin and I for a while and we’ve kept an eye on him since. Minho this is Hoseok, he’s a friend and tattoo artist at Yoongi’s shop.”

Both men greeted each other politely.

“Sure, he’s a friend,” Minho mumbled, though not soft enough.

At that YN huffed and reached over to pop him, but of course he moved away before he could. He did the stupid eye bro wiggle again which antagonized her more, but instead of trying to get to him she calmed and reminded herself to remember it for next time she saw him not at work.

“Okay, now that you’re done trying to assault me. What can I get you guys? I assume YN wants vanilla, chocolate chip, moose tracks, and chocolate with enough whipped cream to root her teeth. But what can I get you Hoseok?” Minho asked.

“Uh, I can’t handle nearly as much sugar as her. And I hope I never have to. But… maybe two scoops of Superman ice cream. In a cup,” Hoseok said.

YN didn’t try to defend herself or punch his arm, just rolled her eyes and moved down since there was a line forming behind them and the other worker was already doing her sundae.

As Minho got Hoseok’s ready they talked a bit and appeared to hit it off, which pleased YN. She was glad that Minho would have someone else to talk to. The kid tended to keep to himself and his main friends were scattered around the country at different schools. It was hard not to worry about him even though she knew he was doing fine.

Once they got their ice cream and YN paid – despite earnest protest from Hoseok – she led them to a booth back in a corner. And the moment she plopped down a scoop of whipped cream was in her mouth. Of course, the ice cream should’ve been the focus since it would melt but it lasted a little longer in the cold shop so devouring half of the cream first wasn’t the end of the world.

As they ate there was small talk here and there. Talking about their days or whatever thing they were excited about that was coming up. It was consistent and chill, no pressure to have something uber interesting to say and no need to fill the silence when they both stopped talking to just eat their ice cream in peace.

And it felt nice for YN to be able to do that with someone outside of her normal circle of friends. Of course Hoseok was a part of that circle, but she’d never brought him there so it was new for her.

New and nice.

Well, the nice didn’t last for too long.

Just as YN got to the last bit of her ice cream a few people entered the shop, though she paid them no mind. Not until she heard a voice that was painfully familiar. YN’s head snapped up and her eyes found the person with ease.

There were three people to be exact. A middle aged man was smiling down at a kid that looked around ten and a woman around the same age was looking at both of them with a wide smile on her face. They were in their own little world and though YN wanted to look away; she couldn’t for a moment or so. It hurt, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking.

She needed to get the hell out of there.

It took Hoseok grabbing her hand to get her focus back on him. His lips were turned down in a frown and his eyes flickered from her to the people she’d stared at. The questions were clearly present, but as he opened his mouth something in him shifted physically. Next thing YN knew he was smiling at her and standing up.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

Without another thought she nodded, not even bothering to finish her ice cream. She got up and threw the bowl away in the trash can behind their booth. Afterwards she grabbed Hoseok’s outstretched hand and they headed out.

She was so close to getting away, but her waving bye to Minho screwed her over.

Out of interest, the older male turned their way and they locked eyes. His eyes widened and though YN tried to get herself to move quickly after it was too late. The man leaned down to whisper to the woman and she turned around faster than YN could look away.

That was the moment YN felt like her chest would cave in. Like she would drop to her knees right then and there. It was as if all her work over the years had been for naught, though she knew that the real issue was the joy she saw on the woman’s face. The joy and the regret. As if she was allowed to feel either of those things when it came to YN.

It took a minute, but YN pulled it together and took the lead heading out of the shop. She kept her pace fast, but not so much that she appeared to be running away from anyone. Because even though she wanted to get away, there was no running from that woman. She didn’t hold that much power over her.

Once outside YN was sure everything was safe, but of course it wasn’t.

“YN!” the woman called out.

Ignoring her was the smart move, but YN stopped walking and turned to look at her. She stood just outside the door with the man and the boy next to her. She still wore that smile despite it being clear that YN was far from happy to see her.

“I thought that was you, baby. I wanted to say hi,” she said.

YN scoffed. “I am not your baby. And I don’t know how many times I can make it clear that I don’t want to say hi to you. I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t want to be in the same space as you. I want nothing to do with you. You do not know me, so please act like it.”

The smile dropped immediately and a frown formed on the man’s face.

“YN, we get that you’re upset, but that isn’t how you speak to your mo–” he said.

There was no way she was allowing him to finish that word.

“Going to stop you right there. She is not my mother and she made that perfectly clear for most of my life. Just because she had reality knocked into her later in life does not mean she gets to change anything. And you are not my father nor are you some sort of authority that gets a say in how I talk to her. Least of all when it comes to respect. Neither of you have respected me as a person, so you get none in return. Not one bit. This is not some little family reunion. None of you are my family. Unless you hold the name Min or are one of the few people who I talk to on the daily you are not my family. You will never be my family. I made that clear after you tried to backtrack. Now keep on doing what you did for over ten years of my life and pretend I don’t fucking exist.”

And with that YN turned on her heel and walked away, dragging Hoseok behind her. She didn’t turn around once, not even when she heard a broken voice calling out to her over and over again.

That woman could sit with her sadness and guilt for her whole life. YN no longer cared to absolve her of it.

So, with that behind her YN kept moving forward. Literally.

Once she’d started speed walking away she didn’t stop. Not until they were at the park two blocks away from Yoongi’s apartment in the other direction. Once there she located a bench and plopped down onto it, releasing Hoseok’s hand in the process.

Hoseok merely sat down next to her and didn’t say a word. She knew he had a million questions, but he hadn't bothered to ask them or to tell her to slow down the entire way there. He’d just gone with the flow and she felt bad.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You obviously wanted to get away from them and they didn’t take the hint,” he said.

She nodded because he wasn’t wrong, but then she was shaking her head.

“No. I almost dislocated your arm and dragged you for blocks without saying a word after blowing up on people in a very vague way. I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t.”

She turned to look at him for the first time since they’d left the shop. He was staring at her with understanding and care, which only enforced what she was going to do.

“I may not need to, but I want to. It’s better that I vent it out instead of keeping it all in like this. I agree with my therapist when he says it’s better for me to tell the story when I feel like I need to get it out no matter how many times I’ve said it and no matter how much progress I’ve made. And seeing as you’re trying to stick around you would find out anyway,” she said.

Hoseok’s expression remained the same for a bit, but then he smiled and nodded at her. His hand reached over to grab hers, giving it a light squeeze.

Taking a deep breath YN prepared herself to get into it. To get sad, angry, and numb all over again. She was better than she used to be, but that didn’t stop the emotions from hitting hard each and every time.

“Okay, so you’ve been privy to the dynamic of me in Yoongi. How we seem like siblings who spent their entire lives together and how his parents treat me as if I am their own. It’s because I basically am. I’m obviously a Black woman in the middle of South Korea who fits so well it’s weird. It’s because my father was stationed here at one point after he married my mom and when it was time for him to retire they wanted to stay here. But they had to go back to the US first. While there they had me and though that meant moving was a little harder that didn’t stop them. So, when I was two we moved here. We lived in a house not far from Yoon’s. And though we didn’t know each other for the first few years here he found me stumbling home crying one day and basically took me in. I was only a year younger than him, so we kept close and he treated me as if we were the same age. His family would watch me sometimes when my parents were busy and eventually it was like my second home. Everything was okay.

“But a few weeks after my tenth birthday my dad got sick and it was so sudden. So quick. One moment he was healthy and the next he couldn’t leave the hospital bed or breathe without help. His health deteriorated so quickly and within two weeks were in the VA hospital saying our last goodbyes. He was gone not too long after I’d said I love you. It was just so much and ten–year–old me was stronger and much more grounded then you’d expect of a kid at that age, but that shit fucking hurt. Hurt to watch him leave us. Hurt to watch my mother break down as she lost her husband. Hurt to watch them put him in the ground.”

At some point YN’s breathing increased and her chest tightened. It reached a point where she had to pause and breathe, like truly focus on the action to stop herself from getting too worked up. Hoseok pulled her closer and squeezed her hand and she could see he was going to say something, but she shook her head and took a deep breath before continuing.

“That hurt, but things got better. Things always pick up after something like that. Everything was back to normal, well as normal as could be with a death in the family. We all were good for a while, but sometime between eleven and twelve something in my mother shifted. I’d known a good bit of my life that she hadn’t wanted kids so soon and I was a surprise. She held no hatred, but it was what it was. But as time went on I could feel the resentment. As she tried to move on with her life in the romance department or just meeting new friends I could tell she just saw me as an obstacle. The love was there, but it was so different then before.

“At some point she sent me to the Min’s house more often and wouldn’t come home for days. The self–doubt on if she wanted me anymore was so strong and just as I thought I was wrong; I was proven right. She’d found another retired military man that she was heavily interested in, but he didn’t have kids and didn’t really want them. Which was fine, but he’d voiced not wanting anything to do with children and my mother couldn’t even muster the energy to say fuck him and find someone else.

“No, she told him she had no kid and that went on for months until I came home one day for something and he was there. He didn’t react horribly, but he was obviously displeased with me. Well, no displeasure isn’t the right word. Maybe disgust was it. But either way that’s all it took before my mother was packing up her things and mine. She was moving in with him and I was going to be sent to a foster care center that dealt with international kids.”

A bitter laugh escaped her as she said it. The memory of how her mother acted like it was natural and treated her as if she was lovingly taking her child on some sort of adventure instead of giving her up. YN felt fully immersed in her own rage and anguish, but not enough that she didn’t notice how Hoseok’s jaw locked and the anger in his eyes. She wanted to stop after that, but she was on a roll.

“Anyway, I stayed there for a week. Again Black girl in Korea where even in an international foster care home I’m the only one. It was horrible. I hated every second of it and I don’t know if it was the bullying or pity that made it so bad. But that Monday came and I was finally sent back to school, where Yoongi met me at the front gates. He didn’t know why I’d vanished and when I told him we skipped school and he took me back to his house. He told his mom and she told us to stay at the house. She returned several hours later with all my stuff and told me I was staying there now. That that was my home now and she'd given my mother a good cussing out and demanded some form of custody.

“So, from then on the Min’s were my family. They didn’t have a whole lot, but they took care of me. And my mother had the decency to provide money for them taking care of me. Helped feed and clothe me. And at some point I felt okay with it all, but that feeling of unworthiness doesn’t just leave because new people tell you you are worthy and that they love you. I spent so much time worried they’d get rid of me at some point that I was scared to even do something slightly wrong. But eventually Yoongi stopped it for the most part.

“And when he admitted he needed therapy once we got to college I realized I did too and we took the plunge together. Went to talk out our shit. Got better. Didn’t fix everything, but we just wanted better. Better was all we could aspire for and got damn it felt so fucking good to be better. To feel better. To feel like we could live and thrive.”

YN hadn’t realized tears began to fall until Hoseok wiped them from her cheeks. She blew out a burst of air and tried to pull it together.

“We can stop there. You’ve said so much and I don’t want you to keep going and getting yourself even more worked up. You don’t have to do this, baby,” he said.

Of course, she shook her head again. Stopping would give her time to calm down, but she didn’t want to emotionally decompress and then get worked up again. It was best to get it out all at once.

“I’m almost done,” she said.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Yup.”

“Okay.”

That time she squeezed his hand to gain strength to continue.

“I went to school for nursing first. I knew I wanted to be a doctor, but I thought becoming a nurse first would help out. It would mean I got hands on while in medical school and where I work now offered to pay for me if I worked there and went to school. So by the time I was doing my residency I was so immersed that I was doing more than a lot of the other residents. And that meant that I worked more intimately with patients.

“I was on my pediatric rotation when she came in with a little boy with a high fever. They had her step out so when I arrived she wasn’t in the room. I was told to comfort the kid and get him treated. So, I did that. And about twenty minutes in she appeared. I was turned around so she couldn’t see my face, but she thanked me and I recognized the voice. When I turned the smile she’d been wearing was gone and replaced with shock, then anger. She was angry with me. As if I’d done anything wrong. And not being an idiot I put two and two together. I requested to be switched out because of our relationship despite having not seen her in like ten years or so. But instead of just letting me be so we could continue that way, she felt the need to pull me to the side to tell me about myself. How I was wrong for not just doing my job seeing as we had no relationship. How just because we’d run into each other there was nothing that was going to change. How I shouldn’t get my hopes up. How she was living such a great life with her husband.”

“She fucking what?” Hoseok shouted.

“Yup. And I told her that I didn’t give a fuck despite the pain I felt inside as I was being rejected again. I told her it didn’t matter and I wanted nothing to do with her or her family. And then I walked away from her. Then four years later we ran into each other and she had this guilt on her face. She cornered me to talk, to apologize, to say how her son needed his big sister, to say how sorry her husband was. And by then I was so fed up that I told her to fuck off. That I wanted nothing to do with any of that. Then I went to an emergency therapy session to talk that through and get validation on my right to not want to forgive them or deal with my half–sibling. And here we are now. Years later and she still tries. And sometimes I think maybe I should talk to them, but I can’t.”

Without missing a beat Hoseok let go of her hand and used his hands to cup her face so he could make her look at him. His eyes were intense, but kind and he looked at her with sadness, but not pity.

“And you don’t have to. They messed up, not you. You hold the right to choose how you proceed. And if that means not talking to her son then that’s fine. You don’t owe that kid your time when he puts you in proximity to people who hurt you. Especially people who should have been there for you like they were for him. You are doing wonderfully, YN. You are living a life you want and working on your issues. You are being the best you can and that is what matters. You are what matters,” he said.

His words came down on her hard and before she knew it she launched herself forward into him. Hoseok moved his arms so they wrapped around her and he let her cry into his chest. He simply whispered soft words of encouragement and validation.

It felt so good. Like she’d lifted a weight off. It didn’t take everything away, but something about it made things feel a little less trash. A little less hopeless.

It’s what sharing did for her and she was so happy to have someone else to share stuff with.

They stayed like that for a while until they realized two and a half hours had passed and everyone would come looking for them if they didn’t go back. So, after ensuring that YN was good they walked back to the apartment, hand and hand with laughter flowing between them.

When they’d finally managed to go on a date it was about a month after the incident with YN’s mother. Hoseok had so many appointments and events to go to that for once it wasn’t her schedule in the way. But when he was finally free of work he asked her to accompany him out to an amusement park on a Saturday evening. YN loved them so she didn’t hesitate in saying yes.

Hoseok picked her up after he finished his last session of the day. And he looked way too attractive. His black, ripped skinny jeans gave her the perfect view of his tanned firm thighs. And he’d opted for a short sleeve shirt, which meant that the sleeves on his arms were on display. Also, though YN hated to admit it, the backwards snapback he had on had the weirdest effect on her. Usually she rolled her eyes at people wearing them because they were often try hard, wannabe fuck boys, but the fuck boy aesthetic fit Hoseok well.

Too well.

However, YN wasn’t allowed to linger on that long. For some reason Hoseok felt the need to rush and practically dragged her down to his car the moment she had her shoes on. And once in the car he seemed very focused on driving so she didn’t try to maintain conversation, just stared out of the window and took the time to relax.

Moments of peace were rare and she’d take them whenever she could.

By the time they arrived at the amusement park Hoseok’s serious focus appeared to dissolve into nervous tics. He chewed on his lip aggressively and wouldn’t stop tapping his finger on the steering wheel. Even when he pulled into a spot and turned off the engine he still stayed that way, not glancing YN’s way at all.

“Hobi,” YN said while placing a hand on his thigh.

It took a moment but when he finally did look her way he put on a smile, though it seemed a little forced. And the nervousness laced into his expression didn’t falter at all.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

There was a head shake and a shrug from him, which was clearly a lie and YN planned to call him on it until he had a change of heart.

“I’m feeling unnecessarily nervous. It’s normal, the idea of roller coasters do that to me and I get on them anyway. But for some reason it’s worse this time,” he said.

YN opened her mouth to offer something else but was cut off.

“And don’t say we can do something else. I asked you to come here because I wanted to come and know you love amusement parks. It was my decision and I’m sticking to it.”

Again, YN prepared to reassure him that somewhere else was fine, but then he narrowed his eyes at her and she shut up. Even using her hand to mime zipping her mouth shut, locking it, and throwing away the key.

That got him to laugh and that’s all she needed.

After that they got out of the car and headed towards the entrance. Hoseok paid for them to get in and YN having spent time with him knew not to try and fight him on it. He was the only one besides Yoongi and Seokjin who could get her to put her money away, despite the ongoing war of paying within the friend group.

From there they entered the park which had many people walking around, but not the usual crowd. She chalked it up to people wanting to visit the fair that set up shop about twenty minutes away from the park and had a limited opening. It was also an option that Hoseok had mentioned, but YN knew all too well that fairs were never as exciting as someone thought they were. They’d be a smaller version of the amusement park where you hoped to find something new to do and you would find the same games or rides as the park, at a more expensive price. It just wasn’t worth it.

“So, where do you want to go first?” Hoseok asked.

That pulled YN from her people watching and forced her to look at the rides and games. She wanted to playthings, but she also knew that if they won anything it would have to be carried around the park until they left. So, games were a no. Also, she wanted to get on more calm rides, because she loved them as much as the high and fast ones, but that felt like a good wind down.

“How about that?” she said while pointing to the biggest ride in the park off in the distance.

Hoseok looked at her incredulously. Poor man looked scared out of his mind and it was kind of adorable.

“What? Why? Can’t we work our way up to that? There is an adorable merry go round that I’m just dying to see you on,” he said.

More like pleaded.

“The merry go round is for later. I want to work my way down, not up. But if you’re uncomfortable we can start on something else or not even ride it.”

No matter how much YN wanted to go on the ride she wouldn’t force him. The date was supposed to be fun and she couldn’t live with herself if she made Hoseok do anything that he didn’t want to do.

When a minute passed and he said nothing she knew the answer.

“We can go on the swinging ship instead, Hobi. It’s a good starter ride,” she said.

Hoseok nodded, but the moment she started walking he shook it.

“No,” he said, taking a deep break before speaking again. “We can go on the big one. I’m just not used to jumping right on it and if I’m honest I usually avoid it unless Jungkook drags me on, but I can do it. It’s fine.”

“Hoseok…”

The fear slipped from Hoseok’s expression as he turned to cup YN’s face, a smile forming on his lips.

“It’s fine. I promise. Though you might have to hold my hand the whole way there,” he said.

YN rolled her eyes at his cheesiness but held out her hand for him to take anyway. And once their fingers were laced together Hoseok started running. There was a struggle to keep up and she cursed him multiple times, but she kept going until they reached the line.

Of course it was long and she was ready to wait, but then Hoseok steered her towards a different line which was much shorter. She looked at him with a raised brow, but all he did was smirk and flashed her the two fast passes he had. YN’s eyes went wide because she hadn’t even heard him ask for those. But nonetheless she was excited and expressed that by leaning closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Instead of averting his gaze like he often did Hoseok merely leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek in return. Which brought a wide smile to YN’s lips and that only seemed to make Hoseok’s grow wider.

They stayed like that – like the dorks they were – until they realized they were next in the line. And that info brough Hoseok’s nerves back in full force. YN did as best she could keeping him calm with sweet words and several hand squeezes. She worried it wasn’t enough as they were strapped into the ride and Hoseok started biting his lip again. The voice in the back of her head told her to tell the person in charge that they were getting off, but then she watched as Hoseok took a long deep breath and the tension melted from his face. He smiled and turned to wink at her as the ride started moving.

That reassured her and since the ride moved she focused on what was in front of her. She felt her stomach dip immediately and squeezed her thighs together best she could as they approached the drop. The discomfort before things got started was her least favorite part, but the feeling she got after made it worth it.

And it was very worth it.

The ride dropped and she felt like she was in another world as it twisted, turned, rose, and fell again. It excited her and she was so happy that she started laughing, which surely made for a horrible picture but she didn’t care.

By the end of the ride she was more than eager to get on another and though frazzled, Hoseok also felt that way. So, as soon as their stuff was collected from the bin they were on their way.

They zoomed to every ride they could get to and luck just happened to be on their side almost every time. So, few people used the fast pass lane and that meant they were on a new one minutes after leaving the others. And they used that to ensure they got on as many as possible. The only time they stopped was to get little snacks here and there, both worried that too much would trigger nausea and/or vomiting.

It was just pure fun. The type that YN didn’t always have time for. And the type that Hoseok didn’t always look for.

For about four hours they hopped around from ride to ride, but at some point the excitement and adrenaline wore them down.

“Okay. I think I’m getting too old to be getting on these rides all day,” Hoseok said as they finished one of those rise slowly and drop quickly rides.

He sounded out of breath and YN felt out of breath. There was only so much that a body could take, even if they were technically just sitting there and going along with how things moved. At some point you’d zap all your energy or get your adrenaline too high too often, and that was not good at all.

“Same. Want to switch to games?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” he said.

And just like that they laced their fingers together and walked towards the front of the park. Most, if not all, of the games were up front. Of course, it was just a ploy to get children excited immediately and thus make parents spend more money sooner. Also, to remind them and the kids to try for one of the prizes as they left. It worked out for them well enough. YN remembered coming as a kid and begging Mama Min to let her spend her allowance on trying for a large stuffed teddy bear. Which she failed to do, only for Yoongi to try once and win it for her. She’d never been so grateful and salty in her life.

But regardless of that she usually did the games because she liked the competition and had mastered a few. So even if she failed for what she really wanted, she got something. And even if she didn’t the world wouldn’t end because she wasn’t stupid enough to spend a whole lot of money on the games.

Thirteen–year–old her would’ve been shocked.

“How about the basketball one?” Hoseok offered.

That brought a smile to her face.

“Yes.”

Hoseok led them that way and before he could stop her YN paid for three rounds. He of course was displeased but didn’t utter a word about it. In fact, his body language shifted and he released her hand and grabbed a ball from his side of the stand.

“I can’t beat Yoongi, but I should be able to beat you. One of you siblings needs to be taken down a peg,” he muttered.

The urge to cackle at that was strong, but YN maintained an aura of nonchalance. Getting cocky or showing too much confidence would make him nervous and she wanted to kick his ass when he thought he had it in the bag.

After she grabbed her own ball the stand worker started up the timer and they got to work. YN didn’t glance Hoseok’s way once, just kept shooting the balls into the hoop and sinking most of them. Even when the new rounds started she continued to remain focused. It wasn’t until Hoseok missed his last ball that she turned his way, smiling and winking before she shot her ball and it sunk in.

Nothing brought her joy like seeing the defeat and incredulous look on Hoseok’s face after she’d done it. The laughter that fell from her lips was involuntary, but she made no attempt to stop herself. It was just too funny.

“Ho… how are you so good at this?” he asked, practically shrieking.

It took a minute, but YN pulled herself together.

“Who do you think was forced to play with Yoongi so he could practice when he didn’t have team practice? He dragged me everywhere, most times against my will. So, I got decent at it. And then we would come do these games and learned how much force and what angle worked best to force it through. You never stood a chance, love,” she said.

At that Hoseok merely pouted and YN turned to request the large bunny that hung close to the top. She thanked the worker and then turned back to Hoseok.

“I thought you weren’t fond of bunnies?” Hoseok asked.

YN shrugged. “It’s for Kookie, he loves them and he was eyeing this the last time we came here. We had to leave quickly so we didn’t have time to stop though.”

“Oh.”

All YN did was nod and then stare at Hoseok waiting for him to say something else. The pout was still on his lips, but there was also a slight twitch that showed that he fought off a smile. It took a moment for him to notice her looking at him though and then he was shaking his head and focusing on her.

“You want to do a few more? It’s getting late and you know that means a flood of teenagers are about to come,” he said.

“Sure, a few more times of me beating you won’t hurt,” she teased while nudging him.

“Oh, so that’s how it is? It’s on,” he said.

Then just like with the rides they found themselves immersed in games. There were only a few people playing them so they got to play almost immediately. It was a war of games and who could manage to pay first. And though Hoseok did well to beat her with paying, he didn’t fare so well with the games themselves.

After they finished with the water squirting game YN had won all but one game. Besides the bunny she’d given her prizes to kids who’d been nearby or watched their competitions. Hoseok won a baseball related one and had his own snake, which he told YN was for her since she was one. Lying to him about not being good at games and then beating him by a long shot.

The entire walk to the car he pouted, not uttering a single word. Even when they put their prizes in the trunk and got in he didn’t speak. It wasn’t until he’d started the car, put it in reverse so he could pull out, and then put it back in park did he speak.

“How could you beat me in almost everything?” he whined.

If YN didn’t find his pouting so adorable she’d be annoyed with him, but there was no way she could resist that face. Even the whining was endearing. The man had her close to whipped.

But despite how much she relished in it she still rolled her eyes at him.

“I spent a lot of time playing games like that. After a while even the ones you suck at become easier. It’s not because you're bad at it, I’m just really good,” she said.

That didn’t stop the whining and at some point she simply unbuckled herself so she could lean over the center console and shut him up with her lips. Hoseok gave in quickly, his hand slipping to cup her face as he pressed closer. And the longer their lips pressed together the more worked up it made YN. At some point she nipped at his lower lip with her teeth causing his lips to part and her tongue the chance to slip in. As their tongues intertwined she pressed closer to him, almost sliding into his lap. And she would have done that if the sound of a car horn hadn’t startled them into pulling apart.

YN’s head whipped around immediately, but she couldn’t find where it came from. Which she was grateful for since she couldn’t deal with the embarrassment of someone watching them.

She slid back into her seat and readjusted her shirt, which had risen as their kiss had grown more aggressive. Once presentable she turned to Hoseok again, who stared at her with an intense look in his eyes and while chewing on his lower lip. Which immediately made her want to kiss him again because they were so soft and nice against hers.

Then a lightbulb moment happened.

Leaning over the center console again she stopped and watched as he tried to close the space but pulled away a little. When she did there was some rumbling sound he made, but no attempt to move close again.

“How about I make it up to you for beating you?”

If she assumed that his expression couldn’t get any more intense, any more lust filled, she was wrong. Hoseok leaned closer to her as if to kiss her, but then he didn’t.

“You can definitely do that,” he whispered.

And just like that he was reaching over to re–buckled her seat belt and pulled out of the parking lot. As he drove YN turned her head so she could smile without him seeing, because if she learned anything from the first and only time they’d slept together it was that any perceived cockiness from her meant more teasing and she didn’t want that.

The car ride back to his place was silent, but their lack of interaction didn’t dim the tension in the car. Especially with how much of it radiated from Hoseok. When YN would glance his way his face was serious and his hands gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. And if he happened to glance her way when she looked at him he gave that megawatt smile that sent a tingle down her spine.

By the time they reached the parking lot YN was sure that there was a damp spot on her panties and feared that any time spent unable to do anything would cause it to grow. Maybe even expand so much that the shorts she wore were affected.

Thankfully, Hoseok wasted no time. He got out so fast that he was at her door before she could fully open it and took her hand to lead her inside. Not a word was uttered as he led her through the lobby to the elevator and even in there he was silent. It made YN antsy, but also excited. They’d avoided sex every time they hung out, despite a few times where it seemed like they’d give in.

Once they were inside of Hoseok’s apartment everything shifted. The tension was still there, but it dimmed. Hoseok had been in front of her the whole time and by the time she’d kicked off her shoes he’d finally turned to her was a calm, soft look.

“What’s wro–” she started.

“You’re sure about this, right? And I don’t mean as in if you’re sure about having sex, but how we’re going to do this? It’s my default and if you want to do it another way we can. But I need to know what you want before I proceed.”

It was almost like the little rambling speech he gave before they fucked the first time and she still thought it was sweet. That despite her reassurances and him knowing she was into it that he’d constantly make sure before he proceeded.

“Seeing as part of the reason I made sure to kick your ass in every game was to get you riled up, yes I’m sure. I appreciate you asking though,” she said.

That first sentence was all that was needed to flip his switch so he went back to the lust driven man from before.

“Oh, so you thought it would be fun to play games?” he asked, but YN knew it was rhetorical so she remained silent.

When he didn’t get a response from her Hoseok smiled and motioned her forward. And without a thought she moved towards him, though she walked slower than she usually did. Which was something that Hoseok seemed to notice but didn’t comment on.

YN stopped with a few inches between them, far enough that they weren’t exactly in each other’s faces but she could feel Hoseok’s breath on her. She’d contemplated staying back a little farther but had to remind herself that she’d messed with him enough to get herself in trouble and didn’t want to make it worse.

At least not this time.

But she didn’t have to worry about displeasing him for long, because the moment she stopped his hands cupped her face and his lips smashed into hers. He just barely missed knocking their heads together, but that thought was gone the more she got into the kiss. Just like in the car it was passionate and needy. Hoseok attacked her lips with such vigor that she couldn’t help the excitement and arousal that bubbled inside of her. She was beyond eager to continue just kissing him despite the need for more though. The idea of pulling away didn’t make her happy.

Which meant Hoseok did just that as she nipped at his lower lip. A whine escaped her because of it, but he merely laughed at her. He then grabbed her hand and led her out of the mini hallway and towards his bedroom. Part of her wanted to say the couch was closer, but his bed was bigger and far more comfortable.

The moment they entered the room he released her hand and went to sit on the edge of the bed. He motioned her forward and she went, but when he patted his thigh she hesitated. It was only for a second, but he noticed it.

“I’m not dealing with you talking about being too heavy to sit on my lap. Daddy’s thigh. Now,” he said.

The fact that he remembered after one instance of her saying that in a non–sexual scenario made her cheeks heat up. Not enough to be seen, but enough for her to be slightly more embarrassed by knowing she was blushing.

Not wanting to prolong anything she carefully sat down on his left thigh and much to her pleasure he reconnected their lips. Her arms moved to wrap around his neck as she pressed closed to him, her breasts pushed hard against his chest. That time she wasted no time trying to get him to part his lips and at first he ignored her, but then he bit down on her lip in a way that was almost painful but was right in the threshold of what she took pleasure in. His tongue slipped in and immediately they were tangled together.

So, wrapped up in the kiss YN didn’t really notice Hoseok’s hands move to her hips and guide her up and down his thigh. Well that and the thickness of her shorts. But when she did begin to feel the friction against her covered crotch a moan slipped from her mouth immediately, though it was muffled by Hoseok’s lips.

At that point she didn’t hesitate in helping him out – though it also helped her. She pressed down on his thigh and moved her hips along with his hands, though she tried to move faster as the need for more pleasure increased, but of course Hoseok corrected her form. He used one of his hands to smack her ass and she knew to stop. Though him spanking her only made her much hornier.

Eventually he moved her faster and their lips parted, but she was so wrapped up in the pleasure of riding his thigh that it didn’t matter. As her hips picked up speed she threw her head back and a chorus of moans escaped her.

She wanted more. Needed more.

Hoseok watched her for a while, saw her pleasuring herself and then his lips mouth was on her neck. That sparked something more in her as they trailed down her neck, sucking marks into her skin as they got lower and lower. When they reached the top of her breasts the sounds she made stuttered a little. The skin there grew overly sensitive in sexual situations and that was definitely the case then. Every touch made her feel electrified and thus explained the whimpers that poured out of her.

And she didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed.

No, YN’s focus was solely on her own high and with how little action she’d gotten over the last few months she got close quickly. And she thought she was a few more strokes away from reaching that, until she was suddenly on her back being pressed into the bed.

So wrapped up in herself YN failed to notice Hoseok leverage her weight to shift their positions. Instead of on his lap he was between her legs. The only constant was his thigh and the fact that he hadn’t stopped rubbing it against her.

“You were getting off so well on my thigh, baby,” he said.

YN nodded, her mind drifting to the way his leg was pressed firmly against her. With him more in control there was more pressure and it made the friction much more enjoyable.

“You want to cum on my thigh? Want me to finish you off this way?”

Again, YN nodded, though it was more frantic. She was so close and she needed a little more to push her over the edge, but then he stopped. A grunt of disapproval escaped her as she felt the climax fade away slowly.

Grabbing her face, Hoseok made her look at him. She was forced to see his smirking face as she felt her high slip away from her. A whimper slipped from her lips and she pouted.

“Nope, don’t give me that. You know you have to use your words, baby. Answer my question,” he said.

“Yes, I want to get off this way,” she practically shouted.

Though seemingly displeased by her loudness Hoseok didn’t waste another second. Instead of his thigh though, he used his knee to press against her. It could provide more pressure and once he started moving it her stomach tangled in notes quickly. Her hands gripped the cover for strength and she arched her back a little hoping to get closer.

At some point the feeling of his knee hurt a little, but she was so close that she didn’t care. The pleasure outweighed the pain – and even added to it.

But despite her proximity to reaching her climax she felt frustrated. It felt so far away and she was whining more than moaning at that point. She thought she’d never get there and then suddenly her body tensed, then relaxed. With a jolt she came, her mouth opened wide with not a sound coming out as she rode the wave of it.

There wasn’t much time for her to recover though, because Hoseok already had her shorts unbuckled and pulled them down along with her panties. The cool air made her squirm as it brushed against her sensitive clit. She whined, which made Hoseok pause with a brow raised.

“Done after one orgasm?” he teased.

YN huffed. “Never.”

That made Hoseok smile wider as he threw her clothes to the side and lowered himself so his body hovered over hers. She watched him as his head tilted down to press a kiss to her forehead and then he just continued lower. Her nose, lips, neck, collarbone, her chest. He only paused once he got to the top of her breasts, his eyes flickering up towards her. She knew that look from the first time and immediately narrowed her eyes at him. All he did in return was smirk and then move his hands to the bottom of her shirt instead of just tearing the flimsy material.

The process of getting it and her bra off was fast and before she could throw the material his lips were around her right nipple. He suckled on it and allowed his tongue to teasingly circle the bud. It hardened faster than when exposed to cool air. And despite his complete focus on that one he didn’t leave the left one out. Hoseok rubbed the peak between his fingers and occasionally pulled on it. And at some point he switched nipples giving each the same treatment the other had received.

Somewhere along the way YN’s eyes fluttered closed as she unraveled under his mouth. It aroused her; her body ready for another climax. And though she knew it was possible with him just doing that she wanted something more.

Though she knew what it could earn her YN began squirming underneath him. Her movements were small at first, but the more they went ignored the more she moved. Until finally Hoseok bit down on her left nipple and she released an involuntary moan, that sounded slightly like a scream.

He pressed a soft kiss to it after that and then pulled away from her chest, brow raised as he looked down at her.

“Impatient, are we?”

“A little,” YN whispered.

And for a moment that made the expression on his face shift. The smile on his lips was genuine and he even reached up to softly caress her cheek. But it truly only lasted for a moment before he was back to staring her down with a mischievous look.

“Rushing me will cost you, baby. But don’t worry you’ll enjoy it,” he said with a wink.

That sparked a little fear into YN, but also made her eagerly anticipate what was to come. And Hoseok was nice enough to not leave her waiting for too long.

Just as he had been before he pressed kisses down her body. The ones across her stomach tickled, but she tried her best to fight the giggles that wanted to escape. She focused on the way he got slower as he got closer to between her legs. How his eyes flickered up towards her every so often as he did it. She thought he would tease her by placing kisses against her thighs or just close enough to her clit without touching it, but he did no such thing.

The moment Hoseok’s head was between her legs his lips suckled on her clit, his fingers spreading her open for him. A gasp sounded from her at the abrupt action, the feeling of his warm mouth heightening the pleasure of his touch. The way he sucked on it with enough force that it stimulated her enough without extra interaction.

But then he abruptly stopped.

In place of his lips was his thumb, rubbing slow circles against her clit. His mouth ventured lower, his tongue lapping at the cum from her previous climax. He made a purring sound as he licked her clean and they were almost drowned out by the noises YN was making. She hadn’t realized she missed being eaten out, especially by Hoseok, until he was doing it and she didn’t want him to stop. Surely, she could come several times just from his mouth.

But of course just as she grew comfortable with that he switched it up on her. His tongue still ran along her folds, but he used his hand not against her clit to slip a finger inside of her. Which caused her hips to jolt and her to arch to be closer to him. That made him laugh and the vibrations from it heightened the pleasure she felt and made her arch even more.

However, Hoseok put that to a stop quickly.

Because of her neediness he stopped playing with her clit to use that arm to push her hips down. She whined at the loss and was going to vocally object, but then the finger inside of her began moving. It was a brisk back and forth motion, but then he curled it upwards and again her hips jolted. There was no chance for her to move closer though because he maintained pressure to keep her down.

After a bit of going on like that Hoseok pulled away to look up at her. His lips formed a pout, but she knew that it was just to tease her.

“You’re squirming so much, love. Is it because you want more?” he asked.

YN caught herself about to nod and cleared her throat before speaking. Though it didn’t help the voice crack.

“Yes.”

Instead of continuing from there Hoseok stared at her and for several seconds she was confused, but then she got it.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Good girl.”

Those were his final words before his mouth reattached to her clit and he added a second finger. His pace before had been moderate, but that time he moved his fingers at a briskly and slammed them into her as if they were his dick.

Naturally, there were no complaints from her. With her lip between her teeth she propped herself up on her elbows to get a better view of him. The attention to her pussy was one thing but watching him do it was another. Seeing the way his mouth attacked her clit made her even wetter and she felt the coil in her stomach tightening.

At one point he hit just the right spot with his fingers that it had her screaming out for him. She even almost lost balance and barely caught herself before she was flat on her back again.

“More. Please more,” she begged.

Despite not using his title Hoseok didn’t deny her of her request. He slid both fingers out and then slipped in three instead. It was a bit of a stretch, but she didn’t mind at all. And a stretch is what she’d need before she could take him.

And of course, the thought of taking him only brought her more pleasure.

She reached a point where she knew she was moments away from cumming again and she needed it bad. So, she laid back again and used her hands to play with her nipples. Pinching and twisting them to respark their sensitivity. All while watching Hoseok between her legs.

Who knows how long it took, but unlike her first orgasm she felt that one coming. Her body tensed, her hips bucking enough that Hoseok lost his grip and couldn’t stop her from arching up.

Not that he really tried.

While she came he was still licking her and his fingers were still driving into her. They didn’t slow or falter for a second. And he kept going even after she’d finished. Which meant that he was working on her sensitive pussy. She always needed a minute between orgasms, but Hoseok wouldn’t let up.

Whimpers escaped her lips from the discomfort, but then Hoseok made eye contact. He held her gaze in a way that ensured she couldn’t look away and she watched as he pulled his fingers out of her and licked each one clean. A moan got stuck in her throat as she watched him, her lips aching to be the ones around his fingers instead.

The show didn’t stop there though. Once he’d licked clean Hoseok lowered his head again and YN watched him lick her thoroughly. She could feel his tongue on every part of her pussy and with the way her body reacted it felt like she was dealing with orgasm aftershocks. But nothing compared to the moment when he wrapped his arms around her thighs and yanked her forward before tongue fucking her.

“Fuck,” she whispered repeatedly.

Her eyes clamped shut, but Hoseok dug his fingers into her thigh and she reopened them. His eyes were still on her as he continued fucking her that way and they entranced her again. All she wanted to do was watch him.

Then, in an embarrassing amount of time, she found her pussy spasming and herself cumming again. It was strong and a little painful, but nothing that she couldn’t handle. Until of course it didn’t end as it usually did. She laid there for a while and was unsure how much time passed before her body truly relaxed. Her eyes had glossed over and by the time she came to fully Hoseok was hovering over her with a smile but worry in his eyes.

She took a deep breath and then spoke. “I’m good.”

A sigh escaped him and she assumed it was one of relief.

“Good. But maybe I should give you a break for a bit. I have something else you can do,” he said.

Though a tad drained the idea of him having something for her to do made her perk up. She really hoped it was what she thought it was.

After pressing a quick kiss to her lips Hoseok climbed off the bed and though confused for a moment soon enough she heard things dropping onto the floor and the sound of a zipper. Following a few deep breaths she sat up fully and watched as Hoseok pushed down his jeans and boxers.

And just like that she was drooling.

His dick was hard and a bit red from lack of attention. It pressed up against his stomach and she could see how wide it was. Hoseok was about average size in length, but in girth he definitely surpassed her past sexual partners and the few pornstars she frequently watched if she was failing to cum on her own.

Him inside her was a nice stretch. That included her mouth and pussy.

So, the moment she had it within reach she got on her hands and knees to crawl towards him. She stopped at the edge of the bed and though she wanted to grab it immediately she didn’t. Her head tilted back a little and she looked up at him with a soft pout upon her lips.

Of course Hoseok knew what she wanted, but naturally he wouldn’t just give it to her.

“Words,” he said.

She chose her words carefully. “Can I touch you?”

That stupid mischievous grin made an appearance again and she was sure he was going to deny her or find some way to twist her words. Hoseok was like a genie and you often had to be specific.

But he surprised her.

“Go ahead. I’ll save that for another time. Right now I just want to feel that sweet little mouth of yours.”

YN didn’t need to be told twice. Her hand wrapped around him as she used her other arm to prop her up a little. Not bothering with teasing her mouth opened and she took in a quarter of his dick. She lightly sucked on the tip, coating it with her saliva. That didn’t last for long because soon enough she was releasing the head and running her tongue along him. There was no guarantee that she’d be able to take him fully and she needed something to coat him while she simultaneously jerked him off.

Though her focus was his dick it didn’t mean she left his balls hanging. After she’d hit base her head lowered and she took it all on in her mouth, sucking it hard. It’s what finally got a response out of Hoseok, who tended to try and keep his cool.

And the grunting noise he made only incentivized her. She released it from her mouth and her tongue flicked across both of them. Her mouth occasionally enclosing around one of them.

It didn’t last long because one tug of her braid and she was kissing up his cock until she reached the tip. Her eyes angled up to make eye contact with Hoseok as her lips parted and she took him in. That time she took him in about halfway before raising her head nearly off him. She maintained eye contact as her head bobbed and she got into a rhythm and then she broke it to take him down farther.

Her right hand firmly on the lower half of his dick moved as she moved her mouth. They moved in perfect unison and when her mouth tightened around him, so did her hand. YN worked herself up to a good pace that way, reaching a point where she was moving in a way that made it easier for her to take more of him. It stretched her cheeks a fair amount, but what was a little discomfort when she got to choke on his dick.

And choke she did.

Once she got comfortable she got more adventurous. Doing her best to keep her mouth wide and relaxed she took in most of him, leaving and inch or two untouched. But after several attempts she finally conquered all of it, taking him down her throat and holding it before coming back up for air. She did that as many times as she could.

Hoseok seemed to appreciate it if the sounds he made were any indication. Or the way he fisted her hair.

It was clear that he was close and goodness did YN want him to cum in her mouth. She ached for him to climax as if it were her doing it and with how worked up she was it would definitely lead to hers sooner rather than later.

To move things along her hand moved down to massage his poor neglected balls. She’d been so focused on getting him into her mouth she’d forgotten to give them attention. So, she carefully rubbed them around in her hand, squeezing every so often.

Response from him was positive and she could feel that he was ready to let go.

“Stop. I am not cumming in your mouth. Not this time,” he said through gritted teeth.

Despite that YN didn’t stop. In fact, she picked up speed and deep throated him while squeezing his balls and despite his efforts to pull her off it didn’t happen in time. His release came out in spurts and shot down her throat. As it did she slowly pulled him out of her mouth, though she didn’t fully release him until she was sure he was done.

If she was going to get in trouble she was going to make sure she got every drop of it.

The moment she pulled away though she was suddenly being pushed back on the bed. Before she could even respond Hoseok was over her and though his eyes appeared blown out from the orgasm there was also some anger radiating off him.

“What did I tell you to do? Stop. And yet you can’t seem to follow instructions. This is the third time you’ve gotten daddy riled up baby and I’ve been nice but that has to end,” he said.

His voice was so soft with its false sense of kindness that if she hadn’t known what she did pissed him off she’d think it wouldn’t be that bad. But Hoseok was a consistent and forward person, he’d made his rules and intentions clear upon the first meeting and she knew they hadn’t changed. Not unless she wanted something different and even then they wouldn’t budge all that much.

Knowing Hoseok expected no response from her she remained silent, which didn’t seem to make him upset or pleased which she preferred. Honestly, she preferred him to say something, anything else. But he remained hovered over her, his smile growing in a way that almost made him appear a bit scary, which made her worry a little bit about what would come.

Punishment could be anything.

Then after making her squirm under his gaze Hoseok rolled off her, laying on his side beside her instead. He didn’t utter any commands, just used his own hands to spread her legs farther. It gave him the perfect view of her glistening pussy. A mix of her last orgasm and her arousal from sucking his dick.

Next thing she knew his hand made contact in a swift slapping motion against her pussy and she jumped a little. The pain was sudden and slowly dwindled to nothingness. Not that he really allowed her to experience that relief before his hand made contact again. Each strike was harder then the last and they were so out of rhythm that YN could never truly prepare for the next one.

Despite that it didn’t stop or halt her arousal, in fact it merely ramped up. If she couldn’t feel how wet she was, surely she could hear it every time he spanked her. The noise was loud and clear.

“So, now your compliant. Not fighting me much or putting up a fuss. Just sitting here and taking it. You must really be enjoying yourself,” Hoseok said just as he made his hardest impact.

A tingle ran down her spine and YN couldn’t be sure if it was from the pain or the pleasure. Maybe a mix of both. Or just his words.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I wouldn’t want you to not have some fun. And with how fucking soaked you are, I should be able to do this with ease.”

Before she could process what he meant two of his fingers slipped inside of her. There was no buildup of the pace or the intensity, he simply moved them as quickly as he could and with every push in his palm slapped against her clit. It was overwhelming to go from one intense form of stimulation to the other so quickly and without warning. Her body felt like it vibrated as she endured it.

Very quickly it became too much, because despite Hoseok not having a lot of leverage from his position he still knew how to do it just right. How to bend and twist his fingers just enough to make penetration feel like enough to make her reach climax.

And she almost reached it, her walls tighten around his fingers and she felt ready to go over the edge, but then he stopped.

Bewildered YN turned her head to look at him. Hoseok just stared at her with a smile. It’s when she realized what her punishment truly was. The spanking wasn’t enough, he was going to deny her orgasm.

She wanted to scream.

“Open,” he said.

Though she didn’t know why he wanted her to do that she still complied. Her mouth opened as wide as it could get and then he placed the fingers that had been inside her between her lips. And without having to be told her mouth enclosed around them, sucking them clean.

“You thought you were going to get to cum again didn’t you? How greedy of you, baby. You can’t think I’d let you off that easily?”

Not being able to speak, but also knowing no response could make things worse YN nodded. Her movements were slow and she watched his expression closely to see how he’d react. The small genuine smile that graced his lips for a moment let her know that she’d done the right thing.

After she’d thoroughly licked his fingers clean he pulled them from her mouth and they went back down between her legs. They didn’t slip in immediately though, instead he used them to rub circles and figure eights on her clit. It was sensitive from his previous actions, so every touch made her hips buck forward. She couldn’t keep still and Hoseok seemed to be amused by it.

“So sensitive and responsive. You’d think that you’d be running away from me and yet you press forward wanting more. So eager for daddy, love?” he asked.

“Yes,” YN said, though it came out hoarse so she repeated it.

Hoseok hummed in response, his fingers moved lower and then he slid three inside of her. She’d cum enough and was wet enough that they entered with ease. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel the stretch they caused, which was so delicious that she purred in response to it.

The pace that time was slow. Painstakingly slow. YN wasn’t sure if it was better or worse, but at least it was something. And with her impending orgasm having not faded quickly the buildup happened faster. Though she ached to tease her clit to move things along but knowing Hoseok that would make it worse.

And she feared that he’d snatch it away again.

While she languished in the feel of his fingers her head fell back against the bed and she moaned out. Her hands longed for something to do, so she slowly creeped them up to her breasts. When Hoseok caught wind of the movement he stared at her for a moment before nodding. Not needing to be told twice her fingers lightly flitted over her nipples. They hadn’t been played with in a while but were still rock hard and responsive to her touch. As she carefully tweaked and pulled at them a chill ran through her.

It felt so close and she needed it so bad. She pinched harder hoping to ignite more pleasure in herself and push things along, which helped greatly. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt her walls pulsate and she hit the edge, but again it was snatched from her.

“Nope. Eyes open baby,” Hoseok said and though she couldn’t see him she could hear the amusement in his voice.

Her eyes flew open and she cried out, her body shaking a little from the feeling of being denied yet again. She felt so frustrated and eventually let out a scream to make that clear.

But that didn’t seem to faze Hoseok one bit. The little shit just laid there and smiled down at her.

“Poor baby. You can’t hide those pretty eyes from me. You have to watch while I do this. Can you do that?” he asked.

Though her want to be compliant waned she nodded and mumbled a yes.

Apparently, it was enough for Hoseok because he slid his finger back inside of her and continued his painfully slow fingering.

That made YN more frustrated than she could comprehend and she was eager to defy him, but she thought of something better. Turning her head she looked at Hoseok whose eyes were glued between her legs, but eventually met her own. She chewed on her lower lip and stared into his eyes, whimpering and moaning whenever he hit just the right spot. No matter how much she wanted to close her eyes in pleasure she resisted and maintained that contact.

It wasn’t instantaneous, but there was a shift in Hoseok. He went from stoic and mischievous to the lust filled eyes he’d had in the car on the way there. His fingers picked up the pace – which she wasn’t sure was intentional – and he watched closely as she continued to voice sounds of pleasure.

Something in him was cracking.

Not seeing that as enough of a change in him YN reached over to cup the back of his head, her own moving closer to press a kiss against his lips. It was gentle, but passionate and she knew that her neediness was clear. After she pulled away, but only enough that she could see his eyes and he happened to hit just the right spot to set her off.

“Please, Daddy. Please. I need to cum so bad,” she whispered.

There was no reaction for a few seconds, but then his fingers pulled out and she thought she’d failed. That wasn’t the case though.

“On your hands and knees, baby. The only way you’re cumming again is on my cock,” he said.

YN was sure she had never moved so fast in her life, because within three seconds she’d flipped on her stomach and pushed herself up. Not only was a climax imminent, but he was also doing her preferred position. The way her stomach flipped didn’t even feel like it relayed how eager and happy she was.

The moment she was in position Hoseok’s hand was on her hip and she felt his dick rub against her folds. It would have annoyed her minutes before, but at that moment all she could think about was it being inside of her.

“Condom?” he asked.

Her response was immediate.

“No. Goodness no. I just need you in me.”

Laughter escaped Hoseok at that and then he didn’t hesitate to push inside. Aware his thickness he didn’t slide in all at once and entered her a few inches at a time. Not that YN would’ve minded him doing that.

Once he made that final inch he paused.

“You good, baby?” he asked.

Despite barely being adjusted to the stretch she nodded frantically.

“For the love of all that is, yes. Please move. I need you to move,” she cried out.

And that was all he needed to hear.

Hands gripping her waist, Hoseok pulled out and then pushed back in. His pace was moderate and slowly sped up. Just like with his fingers he slammed into her as hard as he could with the kind of leverage he had and YN was thankful for it.

If she had been vocal before it was ten times that with his dick inside of her. Her own moans were cut off by each other when he hit the right spot, especially when he continuously found it. She could feel herself build up again and she would be damned if she lost out one more time.

“Faster. More, please.”

The words were soft, but with the change up in stroke she was sure he heard her. And from the way he also released a series of moans it was clear the shift was needed for both. That both of them were on the brink.

One stroke in particular sent a wave of pleasure through her and she could feel that she was close.

“Fuck. Close. So, fucking close,” she screamed.

In an instant Hoseok’s arm was around her waist and he was pulling her up to press against his chest. YN was shocked, but she went with it since it hadn’t dulled her own pleasure and she felt so fucking full of him.

“Play with your clit for me, love,” Hoseok whispered in her ear.

Her hand shot down and she used two fingers to press against it. They moved at the same pace that he fucked her in and with how sensitive it still was her hips bucked each time she applied pressure. But goodness did it do the trick.

There was a momentary freeze up and she felt herself unravel a half a second before she did.

“I’m cum…”

The force of it rendered her speechless. Even the moans she’d been letting out ceased, her mouth agape as she came. And it didn’t end quickly nor was it her usual minimal mess climax. She could feel herself squirt around his dick, though it didn’t fully process; too busy experiencing the euphoric moment.

When she finished her body fell forward and Hoseok released his grip, allowing her to fall onto her hands as he continued to fuck into her. His pace picked up, but his strokes were less uniform and a bit all over the place. Soon enough he was cumming inside of her.

“Fuck!” he yelled.

What happened after that was a mystery to YN because she spaced out hard as she came down from her high and regained control of her breathing. When she finally did tune back into reality she was on her back and Hoseok – who was also breathing heavy – was smiling down at her.

“Making you wait wasn’t so bad now was it?” he joked.

Naturally, YN’s hand reached out to swat at him, but she was too tired and missed the mark completely. Hoseok laughed at her and then leaned down for a quick kiss before getting off the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” he said and then went to the ensuite.

Still not fully recovered, YN took a moment to get her breathing back to normal completely. It took a minute, but she did it. Though the way her pussy pulsated proved to be a little uncomfortable and altered her focus a few times.

By the time she was able to sit up Hoseok returned. He grabbed her hand and helped her off the bed, seeing her legs buckle he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to the bathroom. Once inside he helped her over to the toilet so she could pee, and then into the bath he’d drawn.

The hot water was too much at first, but after a few seconds and slowly immersing herself she adjusted to it. And it felt so good against her skin.

After ensuring she was comfortable Hoseok went to leave, but YN reached out and grabbed his hand. A pout on her lips.

“Where are you going? Are you not going to join me?” she asked.

Hoseok leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I'll be back in a minute. I just need to take care of the sheets so we can lay down after,” he said.

That had her blushing and dropping his hand immediately.

Laughter followed Hoseok as he made his exit to do what he needed, but YN didn’t take it to her. Instead she focused on relaxing in the tub. Her eyes fluttered shut and her body sank lower. She’d gotten so calm and comfortable that she didn’t notice him come back until he moved her body forward so he could slip behind her.

Despite the change it didn’t affect her comfort, it enhanced it more than anything. Her eyes didn’t even open.

At first at least.

Seconds in Hoseok began trailing kisses along her collar. The sudden touch surprised her, despite already being wrapped up in him. But it only lasted for a moment before they fluttered shut again, a content sigh leaving her.

They sat there in silence for a while, but Hoseok had something to say.

“So, is the first date the right time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

YN scoffed. “We both know this is like date twenty.”

“Oh, so you acknowledge that our hang outs were dates. How convenient.”

“Oh, hush,” she said as she pinched his thigh.

Of course, he whined about that, but stopped quickly.

“So does that mean it isn’t and you will be my girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“What do you mean oh,” she said, turning to see his face.

“I thought you’d make me beg.”

“Okay, never mind. I take it back, I won’t be your girlfriend.”

“No, no… No take backs.”

And for the rest of the bath time they bickered, even as they finally made the attempt to clean themselves and not just sit. It was safe to say they were nearly prunes when they finally got out.

Psst... if you like this pairing I’ll be following their story years after this moment for my Bangtan Boardwalk collab with @BangtanHQ in late August. It’ll be called ‘With All My Heart.’

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