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chimcess · 9 months ago

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Waterlog || pjm (1)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!

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Staring at the pool, I managed to calm myself with relative ease. Jin had been right, physical therapy had made things easier. The water glistened prettily in the lights, and I waited with bated breath for my trainer to come in.

Emery was a sweet guy, pretty with a lip ring and tattoos, but with a surprising amount of shyness it was laughable. His softness was offset by his powerful muscles, and I enjoyed his never-ending sense of humor. Unlike Dr.Maddox, Emery treated me like I was a normal person. Not an Olympian who almost lost her leg in an accident, or the woman whose fiancé died. I was just Y/N, and it was a relief to be around him.

Running my fingers along the scars on my leg, I mindlessly drew patterns around them in the silence. It was not normal for Emery to take this long, but his assistant had said he was running behind due to another patient, so I was unbothered. I had planned my entire day around this, so I was in no rush.

Finally, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Emery. Breathing heavier than usual, he rolled his eyes at me in frustration before saying his pleasantries. Whoever it had been had gotten him worked up.

“Rough morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

“I shouldn’t say this, but I hope that woman never comes back here.”

I laughed, “We all have that someone. Don’t feel too bad.”

Shaking his head, I could tell it took restraint on his part not to rant and rave about the woman who had left. Emery and I were more friendly than most. I had been seeing him for over two years now, but we still kept a semblance of a professional relationship. Especially Emery.

“How’s the kids?” He asked, making small talk as we started getting ready for a swim.

I was the coach of a high school swim team in town, something I talked about quite a bit, and Emery always liked hearing about. He was a great water polo player but chose to go into physical therapy while he was in college. After seeing one of his friends get injured and how much physical therapy had helped him, Emery decided to change his major. Four years later, he says he could never see himself doing anything else.

“They’re doing well,” I said honestly. “We got a couple of freshmen on the team, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they would.”

Emery hummed, offering me assistance getting into the pool. While walking had been mostly figured out, the obvious limp aside, I still had some trouble with getting in-and-out of things. Even my bathtub had to be switched out since I was unable to step over it. I still used the medical chair while in there, too.

The water was cool against my skin, and I felt instantly relieved. The dull aches and pains left as soon as I got into the water. Swimming to my usual spot, I waited patiently for Emery to join me.

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

Going to the edge of the pool, Emery grabbed a set of barbells and handed them to me. Taking them, the two of us went over the workout plan for the day. Pulling himself up on the pool’s edge, Emery picked up his stopwatch and told me to begin.

Getting on the interstate, I sang along to the radio as I made my way to Hoseok’s. The two of us had been friends since high school, our mutual love for swimming making it impossible to keep apart, and only growing with time. He was one of my biggest support systems after the accident. Both of us had retired years ago now, but I remembered our days as Olympians fondly. Those were the best years of my life.

A small group of our friends were getting together at his house to watch the summer Olympics this afternoon. The women’s swimming finals were happening today, and I knew two of the girls competing. Turning on my blinker, I quickly got off the interstate.

Pressing around my car’s radio screen, I went to my contacts and pressed Andy’s number. She was off today and in charge of getting everything together. Hoseok had tried to do it himself, but always seemed to forget who should do what and ended up buying everything himself. She picked up after the fourth ring.

“What’s up, sugar?” Andy greeted, her voice soft and light. Her Memphis accent was thick and brought a smile to my face. Everyone had made jokes about her being southern when we first met. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Nationals.”

I shook my head even though she could not see me.

“I’m on my way,” I replied. “What should I pick up? I completely forgot.”

Andy sighed, “You’re just as bad as Jin.”

Seokjin was Andy’s husband. The two of them had been together whenever they moved to Colorado, married before I ever met them, and became quick friends with Hoseok when they moved to the Springs. That was how I had met them. Whenever their daughter Dani was born, Andy had asked me to be her Godmother and I sobbed in her lap. They were my closest friends next to Hoseok. Jin was indeed very forgetful, though, and the jibe made me chuckle.

“Cut me some slack,” I argued. “I’ve been working out for two hours straight.”

I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just get some pizza or something. We’re picking up some wings and Hobi’s in charge of the drinks. Minho and Tilly are bringing… something. I don’t even know anymore.”

Fully laughing now, I saw a Little Ceasars up ahead and got into the correct lane. Minho and Matilda were loose cannons when it came to our parties. While sweet, and fiercely loyal, I found myself wondering why I hung out with them at times. We were night and day personality wise, but I loved them dearly. Minho would probably bring some Korean side dishes from home, and Matilda would pick up a few packs of ramen from the store. Andy was stressing over nothing again. I hoped she was getting proper rest on her days off.

“I’m at Little Caesars,” I told her, parking my car. “I’m going to get the basics. How many things of Crazy Bread should I get?”

She thought for a second before replying.

“Five?” She was definitely unsure about her answer.

It was hard to gauge just how hungry everyone would be, and Jin was a bottomless pit.

“Sounds good,” I said instead, already thinking about getting more.

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

“See you, Andy,” I unplugged my phone from the charger.

Pressing it to my ear, I pressed my start button and turned it off. I climbed out of my car and started walking to the store.

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

“Love you, too,” I replied. Opening the door, a worker greeted me with a smile. “I’m about to order.”

Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I gave the worker an awkward smile before telling him my order. I ended up getting seven bags instead of five. Just in case. Dani really liked the stuff and Jin could smash an entire bag by himself. While I waited for the cheese pizza to come out of the oven, my phone started ringing.

“Hello?” I answered, unable to check the caller ID while the cashier shoved the crazy bread into my arms.

“I heard from a little bird that you’re thinking about competing again.”

I grinned and thanked the cashier as she handed me my other pizza.

“Hello to you, too, Frank,” I replied. “And your little birdie wouldn’t happen to be Hoseok, would it?”

Frank and Sarah Boone had become a part of my life after the accident. They ran a local support group to help those affected by drunk drivers to get connected with resources and therapy. The two had lost their son when he decided to drive home drunk from a party and used the group as their own coping mechanism. They were wonderful people and owned their own joint coffee shop and bookstore in Denver.

“Won’t say names,” He chuckled, “But it might have come from a certain part-timer. So, is it true?”

I placed the boxes in the passenger seat and rounded my car. This was not a conversation I was expecting to happen today. I had brought up the idea to Hoseok since the Olympics were coming up next year, but I was not committed to it. I was enjoying my new job coaching and did not think I was in any condition for competition. When he brought up the Paralympics I laughed. Those competitors were in better shape than I was, and I doubted I would qualify. I was disabled but my disability did not (as far as I knew) carry over into the pool.

“I was just talking shit, Frank,” Backing out of the parking space, I put in Hoseok’s address and started to drive. Switching over to my car’s phone, I put my phone down and looked at the road. “You know I’m happy with my life right now.”

He made a grunting noise that told me he did not really believe me. No one did. All of them were sure I was miserable about my career ending far before its time, and while that may be true, I felt more loss about the life I was supposed to have than winning medals. I missed Namjoon more than any medal. Frank and Sarah understood that.

“I know that,” He cleared his throat, and I could hear the congestion. Frank had come down with a nasty case of walking pneumonia two weeks ago and was still recovering. “Just got a little excited is all. It would be nice to see you putting yourself back out there.”

It would be nice to see myself back in the pool, I could admit that. I had dreams of it at times. Being a competitor was a part of who I was. From the first time my dad took me to my swim classes when I was six all the way until I claimed my eighth Olympic medal, everyone had said there was nothing I hated more than losing. I was fiery, free-spirited, and kept my eyes on the prize. It was the thing Namjoon loved about me the most. That made me frown.

“I left a champ,” I forced a laugh. “Need to save some gold for the rest of them.”

Hiding behind humor was a pastime.

Frank laughed, oblivious to the hollowness in my tone. “Heard they have a new guy taking your place.”

That made me snort, “He’s not taking my spot. Totally different competitions, my friend.”

“Winning gold like you, that’s for damn sure.”

It must be Jimin Park. The kid turned up on the scene a year after my accident. He was a very, very talented swimmer. Fast as a bullet with the best butterflies I had ever seen, Park was a force to be reckoned with in the men’s league. It was a joy to watch him swim and this year would be his first Olympics. Hoseok and I were very excited to watch him.

“If you’re talking about Park,” I chuckled. “He’s far from new. He’s been competing for a few years now. First Olympics, though.”

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

Truthfully, I did not know how old he was. I remember the buzz around how young he was when he first broke out on the scene. He was eighteen when he took home gold all season before a family emergency took him out of the Olympics last minute. No one knew what really happened, but his team had said his brother was in an accident, tragically losing his life, and Jimin was prioritizing his family. He’s competed every year since and with the Olympics next year, I was certain Park would be there. He deserved it.

I was parked in front of the house now and from the cars outside, I was the last person to arrive. Frank and I talked for a few moments. It was cute how much he had learned about swimming so we could be buddies. Sarah was the only person who recognized my face when I first started going to the meetings and her husband was determined to get me to open after weeks of sitting in bitter silence in the back.

We hung up after I promised I would make it to the meeting next Thursday. Frank was not happy about me skipping the past two weeks, but understood I was taking some time to myself. My boys were going to compete this year, I had fought tooth and nail for that funding, and the extra hours at school were exhausting. Jeremy and Evan showed promise, but they knew how to drive me up the wall with all of their simple mistakes.

As I suspected, the party was in full swing. Matilda and Minho were laughing loudly on the sofa, Hoseok sporting a beer in the recliner next to them, and Dani practicing her gymnastics in the middle of it all. I could hear the commentators talking animatedly about the girls, who they believed would come out on top and highlights from the night before, but I never really paid them any mind.

“Pizza’s here!” Minho boomed, practically running to greet me.

I laughed, handing over the boxes, “Need help carrying the rest in.”

Matilda offered, happily taking my car keys and leaving the house. Minho had disappeared into the kitchen. Dani spared me enough attention for a smile and wave before launching into excited pleas for me to watch her new moves.

“Super cool, babe,” I smiled sweetly after her handstand. Dani was not particularly good at gymnastics. She started later than the other girls, rarely did anything she was actively afraid of, and hated her coach. Andy was already looking for a better gym, but I just thought she should start pointing her in another direction. Dani loved dancing and she would be a wonderful ballerina or figure skater if given the proper training. The Kim’s, however, seemed fine watching her deal with gymnastics and cheerleading. “You’re getting better.”

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

Flipping the right way around, her hair coming out of its messily tied bun and falling down past her shoulders. Brown, loose waves made her look so much younger than her eight years, her small stature only selling the illusion even more. Her skin was smooth, and she always looked as though she had been playing outside in the sun, a constant tinge of pink beneath her sandy skin. Her features favored her father, large eyes, long face, and plush, pillow-like lips, but after meeting Andy’s parents, I could see her grandmother hidden within the mischievous glint in her eyes and too small ears.

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.

She continued to babble away as I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my shoes and tossing my hat onto the small buffet table that sat above the shoe rack. Matilda came back inside, her arms filled with bags of bread, and I took two from the pile. With a thankful, thin-lipped grin, she also complimented Dani’s moves before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.

“Dani,” Hoseok seemed to have finally grown tired of hearing the girl talk. I would imagine this was all he had been hearing since he arrived. “Do you want to color with me?”

The little girl clapped happily, her eyes bright and shining, before abandoning her mat to gather a few coloring books and her massive hoard of crayons. Hoseok looked at me then, a sly smile on his face before winking. I chuckled and shook my head. He always did that to make her shut up.

I left the living room before Dani came back. I loved her dearly, but I could admit she talked too much. It was a good thing for a kid her age to be so social but that did not mean I wanted to hear her every waking thought. Andrea and Seokjin were the only parents in our little group, and I imagined it would stay that way for a while. Even if my dreams of children were still alive, I did not have anybody I wanted to take on that responsibility with.

Minho was eating the pizza, as expected, while Matilda had already claimed her own bag of Crazy Bread. Andy and Jin were snuggled up at their dining table, his arms securing her to his chest, and she curled into him. I loved watching them together. I had grown up in a house with two people who hated one another, barely kept up a facade of civility before my mother skipped down to be with her new boyfriend in Florida leaving my dad and I behind in Pennsylvania. We made it work but things were never the same after that. It made me happy to know little Dani would feel the love radiating in her home as she grew up. I had never seen two people so enamored with one another in my life- not even Namjoon and I.

“How was therapy?” Minho asked after we exchanged pleasantries. “Hoseok said you were talking about competing next season.”

I laughed in disbelief. That man did not know how to keep his mouth shut. I said the same thing I told Frank over the phone, and he scoffed. Minho never truly laughed, if I was honest. It was always a snicker, scoff, or chuckle. He was a man of little words and even fewer outbursts of joy, and I found his versions of those things just as reserved as the rest of him. He was the most expressive when he smiled, but those were just as rare as a genuine laugh. Dani managed to squeeze more out of him than anybody else.

“Stop meddling!” Andy scolded the other man from her spot in Seokjin’s lap.

“Never,” My friend replied, amusement clear in his voice.

“Never!” Dani echoed, voice louder than Hoseok’s. She was giggling happily alongside him, and I rolled my eyes. He was her favorite. “Never!” She repeated again, pleased when Hoseok laughed. “Never!”

“That’s enough,” Jin’s voice was even and smooth.

Dani did not shout again but we could all hear her and Hoseok attempting to cover up their laughter. Andy smiled fondly. Their little friendship had warmed her heart. After Dani, Andrea had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. It had come back six times before her doctor said she needed to get a hysterectomy. She grieved the children they would never have, the large family she dreamed of stolen from her, but once Dani was old enough to walk, she had been glued to Hoseok’s hip.

Hoseok for all he spoke about never wanting children, he adored Dani. His family was small, he and his sister the only children, but they were extremely close. She lived in New York City as a fashion designer and got married last year, and I always had the feeling Hoseok felt lonely without her. Dani was a welcome break from routine and made him feel special. It was sweet but I hoped my friend would find someone to share his life with someday.

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

It was a great day for the U.S. Opal Simmons was one to look out for. She was the oldest woman on the team, a shocking 24, but she could out swim a vast majority of them. Her freestyles were amazing, earning her a gold with Japan just a few points behind. I was hopeful she would be able to come out on top in her distance swim. While not the fastest in the pool, the girl knew how to pace herself. The cameras cut to the shot of one of her coaches smiling triumphantly at the performance.

He was a good friend of mine, Oswald Bunch. He had been heavily involved with the Olympics for years now, promoted to one of the lead coaches back in 2020, but I remembered when he was still competing. A few years older than me, Ozzie was known for his backstrokes and long-distance swimming, and we bonded whenever we got the chance to meet in London back in 2012.

That was my first Olympics. I was a fresh-faced 20-year-old on a mission. My team at the time was stoked to have me around and I was excited to be there. I had built up a solid reputation over the course of two years, winning seven medals my first adult-competitive season, and the high was incredible. Back then, I was always the one to beat at the breaststroke and therefore, the medleys were in my favor as well. I walked away with 4 golds that year, and again in 2016. The accident happened a year later, but I left the competitive world with 8 gold Olympic medals and 19 world champion gold medals. Katie Ledecky held the record now, but for a time, I was the most decorated female swimmer in history. I was excited when I was finally passed up, happy for the younger woman.

Ozzie was the man, but sadly never got out of Michael Phelp’s shadow. It was not his fault. That man was insane in the water and would become the most decorated Olympian ever. Bunch was a great swimmer, but I did not know a single person who could compare to Phelps. Hoseok, maybe, but he only had 12 gold medals. Phelps had 23.

“Simmons looks great out there,” Hoseok praised, a large smile on his face.

“Her butterflies could use a little work,” I murmured back, already seeing how I could fix it with some extra exercises. “It’s slowing down her freestyle. What else is she scheduled for?”

“I think she’s doing the 200-meter freestyles and the medley relay,” He replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Bunch is banking on her pacing.”

“She won’t win those,” I was positive. “She’s just going to get tired. Breaststrokes are obviously not her thing.”

He laughed, “You’re the breaststroke queen, Y/N. No one's as good as yours.”

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

“Never said she wasn’t,” He sipped. “Her freestyles are killer. Girls could never beat you in breaststroke or a medley. You’re untouchable there.”

It made me smile despite myself. Hoseok was right, those were my competitions. Even if Katie had surpassed my record for most gold medals ever, I still had more Olympic medals than she did, and they were in completely different events. I could have kept my title had the accident never happened. I would have. Even if we were friendly, Ledecky would have been my competition, and I would have fought hard to keep the record.

“What’s Jimin doing this year?” Matilda asked as the women’s scores were posted. Opal would be a strong contender. “Anyone know?”

I nodded, “I haven’t watched every competition, but he’s sticking to what he does best. Didn’t he swim the 200 yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “He’s skipping out today and doing his individual tomorrow. Swimming back-to-back after that. Kid’s a fucking animal in the water.”

I couldn't agree more. As I stared at Opal’s smiling face, her pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I wished I had been able to watch Jimin instead. She was cold and impassive even with a large, perfectly white grin that took up most of her face. In fact, I found her quite boring outside of the water. No flair or features that set her apart. Just a tall, well-built blonde with a nice smile. Ozzie would have to work hard to make her memorable.

“Simmons did well,” I yawned. “It’s getting late, though, and I have work in the morning.”

The goodbyes were quick, and Dani made me promise to take her roller skating soon. There was a girl at school making fun of her and she wanted her “super cool” and “famous” aunt to tell them off. We all laughed, and I told her we could go this weekend after gymnastics practice.

My drive home was uneventful. It was already dark out, something that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud, and I never turned on the radio. I preferred to drive in absolute silence, eyes and ears glued to the road. I had only started talking on the phone recently.

I was much worse after the accident. I refused to get inside of a car for weeks and if I did, I was a mess. No one was allowed to be a distracted driver either. No radio, no phone, no conversations. Nothing. Jin had been the default chauffeur during that time and put up with my anxiety better than the others.

It was close to a year before I tried to sit in the front seat again. Another five before I got behind the wheel. For hours I would sit in the garage with my hands on the steering wheel staring off into the distance. I was still in a wheelchair for most of my daily activities and a very obvious limp made me too self-conscious to be seen. Isolating was easy. Keeping the others away was more difficult.

My drives started with me just backing out of the driveway. I went around the block a few weeks later, hands shaking and Andy trying her best to soothe me in the passenger seat. I did not drive past the Whole Foods two minutes away from my house until after the second year. Things were easier after I ditched the wheelchair and got more open to the idea of therapy.

Moving out of Denver was the best decision I ever made, the Springs were easier to drive in and the traffic was not as awful. Andrea and Jin bought in Black Forest once I was settled in Briargate, so loneliness was never an option.

Matilda almost moved in after the housewarming party Andy threw for me. She said it was far too big for one person and the neighborhood was to die for. I laughed her off at the time not really wanting to admit how nice it sounded.

Nestled in Fairfax, my house was a beautiful piece of architecture. The striking brick and wood front exterior provided a warm welcome, with teal trimmings bringing a fresh feeling to the otherwise plain color scheme. With five bedrooms and four bathrooms, I dreamed of the day I was able to fill them all. A dream that I hoped would come before I hit 35.

Pulling up to the house, I waved to Chika next door. The old woman raised her hand, still nursing a large mug of what I assumed to be tea and smiled. They were lovely people and we often helped one another out whenever we could. Chika liked to bring over food if she cooked and I paid my landscapers to keep with their lawn.

“Late night?” Chika called out from her front porch.

“Went to a friend’s house,” I replied.

“Good,” She meant it. “Glad to see you getting out of the house.”

I smiled but was not sure how well she could see my face in the dark.

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

I showered quickly and sipped on a cup of chamomile tea before heading off to bed. After taking my night medications, one to force myself to sleep while the other blocked the never-ending nightmares, I climbed into bed. I was able to play a single game of solitaire before they both kicked in. I fell asleep with the sound of gentle rain humming in the background.

“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle.

The twelve boys waited, their small talk coming to an abrupt end. We had just finished warming up and I allowed all of them a short water break. I was a huge advocate for rest periods. No one needed to pull a muscle or fatigue early due to over working. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns.

Jordan, our captain, was smiling happily. He was such an excited kid, and his positivity was contagious. While some of the boys were disappointed when I first chose him to replace our old captain after his graduation, I was sure his spirit would do everyone some good. It did not take long for the others to come around and he was beloved.

“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

“Alright. That's what I like to hear,” Flipping through my clipboard was more for show than anything. I used to rely on it heavily when I first started teaching since brain damage messed with my short-term memory, but I had been doing this long enough to know what was happening. Now it was just a way for me to write notes about their performances. “We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. Following?”

No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.

“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

“Thank you, Abbot. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”

All twelve of them began to prepare to take their mark. One by one they stood on their blocks and waited for me to make the call. I admired them all for a moment. You could see the difference in each one of them. Those who were confident stood tall, their shoulders squared, and head held high. Newcomers were still figuring out their place on the team but were eager to prove themselves. Two of them would be leaving us this year, Gabriel and Marcus, and neither one of them were continuing to swim after graduation. It was a sad thought, but I was happy with how they carried themselves. They had both come a long way.

“Take your mark,” My voice echoed. Each boy got into their starting position as I watched them like a hawk. One of the freshmen, Phineas, needed major work on his form. I would talk to Jordan about it. Grabbing hold of my stopwatch, I took a deep breath. “Go!”

Marcus was the first in, like always, and I ignored him. I knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself. Phineas was the weakest link in my chain right now. He was struggling, his arms growing tired and his speed nonexistent. The other freshmen, Tobias, or as the guys called him, Twig, was not much better. He had more strength, but I chopped that up to his size. I would need to really start working some more beginner drills to get them in shape. Jordan and Gabriel would be more than happy to give up a Saturday or two to help out.

Marcus was the first one finished and I marked his time. Still a tenth of a second faster than Jordan. After Jordan came Gabriel and then Joseph and Anthony. I was disappointed in Jett’s time, but I would invite him to the weekend practices with the others. He needed some foot and hip exercises. Twig came in before Phineas, but every other boy was already out of the water by the time they made it back. Phineas was visibly upset, and I made a note to pull him to the side after practice to cheer him up.

Practices typically lasted two hours and the boys swam hard. Phineas did, in fact, perk up after I told him I was noticing tons of improvements in his performance. Twig just seemed happy he was not the worst guy in the water. After talking it out with Jordan, we decided on a good weekend time for extra practices, and I stayed behind to print off a poster and signup sheets for the rest of the boys. I had a feeling almost everyone except Marcus would show. He had a part-time job now and his weekends were full.

Sitting in my office, I poured over my observations and timecards. With a team this large I should have an extra set of hands to help with timing. I sent an email to the principal asking about helpers and got back to the nitty gritty.

All of them could work on something. Phineas might have needed the most work, Twig not far behind him, but my most seasoned swimmers had room for improvement. Jett was still struggling with maximizing propulsion, Anthony and Milo needed to get better water balance, and Gabriel’s pull could be better. Even my best swimmers, Jordan and Marcus, could use a bit of refinement in technique. It was nitpicking but they were too talented to give up on their potential.

It was close to nine when my phone began to ring. I knew it could not be any of my usual calls. Andy was working nights this week and Jin was fast asleep at home with Dani. Minho was in bed by eight, Matilda would never bother me this late, and Hoseok hated phone calls. Checking the caller ID, I was shocked to see Ozzie’s name.

“Hello?” I answered tentatively, afraid he might have called me by accident.

“Otter,” Ozzie greeted me happily. He seemed so delighted that I answered, I smiled even though I hated the nickname. “How’s life going?”

I chuckled, “Rockin’ and rollin’. Saw your girl last night. Looks great, Oz.”

“Appreciate it,” He was so dismissive of it I became interested. This was not a catch-up phone call or else he might have hooked onto the bait. My stomach twisted in anticipation. If it was not for pleasantries, then it was for work and that was something to be excited about. “Still teaching high school?”

“Mhm,” I fiddled with my pencil, papers forgotten. “My boys team is strong. I only have three girls that signed up so we’re just training during P.E. and hoping some more join.”

We chatted a bit more about the team. The longer it went on the more knots I had. Oswald was fishing for something, and I wanted to figure out what. After telling him about Phineas, I asked what the random call was about.

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

“Alright, you caught me,” Ozzie sighed. “Look, the Olympic team is looking for another assistant coach and your name came up a few times.”

My mouth went dry. I had heard about Tiara Marsh leaving to focus on her family. She had a baby and stepped down a few months after coming back from maternity leave. I respected the decision and messaged her my congratulations. Ozzie had taken the lead coach position three years ago with Todd Packer as his partner. The other assistant, Drew Jones, was a sweet girl from what I heard and working with her would be a dream.

Still, it was an impossible task. Trying to imagine myself on the sidelines, coaching the next big names in sporting history with a massive squad behind me made my stomach queasy. I doubt any of them respected me. My leg was ruined, my career burned out just as quickly as it started, and I never had the chance to reach my peak. Now I am a 30-year-old washed up recluse. Just thinking about the media frenzy made my breathing get a little heavier.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oz,” I murmured.

“I told them you wouldn’t go for it,” He replied, unsurprised. “They’re going to approach Storm Kline instead.”

“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”

“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”

That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.

While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.

“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.

“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”

This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season.

“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”

“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”

That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.

“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”

“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.

“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”

Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”

Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.

As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.

Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest.

That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.

“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”

“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”

I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”

He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.

His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me.

“Can you see me?” He asked.

I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”

Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.

There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?

“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.

“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”

His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.

“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”

My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.

“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.

“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”

Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.

“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”

I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master.

“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”

It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.

“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”

Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man.

“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”

He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat.

“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”

I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”

Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that.

“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”

We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh.

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.

Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.

Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them.

Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking

I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar.

Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.

Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.

First work then play, I told myself.

Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.

I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.

“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”

Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.

“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.

“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”

The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.

“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”

I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”

Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.

Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November.

It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.

Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother.

She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.

“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”

Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade.

Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.

“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”

I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”

“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”

“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”

Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently.

“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”

It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.

Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.

“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”

“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”

It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself.

“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”

I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”

Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips.

“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”

That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.

“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”

“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”

It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”

And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others.

“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway.

I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.

“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”

I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment.

“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”

Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices.

When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.

The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.

“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me.

I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”

She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible.

“Sounds like we have company!”

A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled.

“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”

His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.

His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.

“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”

The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.

“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”

“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”

I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”

That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job.

It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched.

Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.

“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”

I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”

He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again.

“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company.

“Hope the concert was nice.”

That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.

“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”

I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.

“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease.

“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”

I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.

Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.

Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.

James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more.

The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up.

“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”

Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”

I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”

He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out.

Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice.

Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.

“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”

I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family.

“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.

“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”

I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.

“You don’t look very impressed.”

I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”

“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”

“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”

I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that.

Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.

It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.

“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”

No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags.

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.

“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.

Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage.

Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.

He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.

This trip was going to be long. Very, very long.

The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.

We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.

Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.

“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”

I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“Thanks.”

He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.

Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.

“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”

It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.

“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”

I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.

Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.

The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.

“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”

Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.

The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.

“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely.

I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”

She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”

The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.

It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.

The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.

“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”

I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”

The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.

“I put your stuff in your room.”

Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”

With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down.

“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”

Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”

The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?

“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”

He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”

I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.

“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”

He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”

Now I felt like an asshole.

“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”

Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”

I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him.

“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”

Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”

I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”

I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.

“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”

“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.

“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”

Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”

That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same.

It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it.

“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”

I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

I nodded, “See you.”

He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.

Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.

"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."

Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.

"Likewise," I replied.

We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.

As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.

I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio

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ihavethedreamies · 8 months ago

Text

Best Friend's Brother | Doyoung

Kim Dongyoung (Doyoung - NCT 127)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.4k

Pairing: Doyoung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Friends to Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Like 5 years, reader is 19 and he's 24), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Fingering, Spanking (once or twice), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)

Author's Note: I wrote this a long time ago and had it saved somewhere else and totally forgot about it till the other day, lol. I Beta-ed it myself but there might be some errors still.

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

You had always had eyes for your friend's brother. It was nearly impossible not to give the fact that he was simultaneously the cutest and hottest thing on the face of the earth. There were times where Doyoung would smile or laugh and you heart would melt; the other times he would get angry or annoyed, and THAT look…made your ovaries explode. His broad shoulders and narrow build appealed to you more than the ripped guys you'd meet at the gym. You did always wonder what he had hiding under there though, because every time you were at the pool, he either didn’t get in or wore a shirt…Though, the wet fabric clinging to his body didn’t leave too much to the imagination. The worst part though, was that your best friend knew EVERYTHING. And she would tease you mercilessly for it. She was never disgusted by your crush on her brother; however, she requested to never have to see anything between the two of you. Fat chance at anything happening though. To him, you were like another little sister. You had been friends with his actual sister for many, many years, and he probably still saw you as the toothless six-year-old that hit him in the head with a plastic baseball bat. It wasn’t on purpose of course, but he, and his sister, never let you live it down.

Luckily, since he was five years older, there was never a point where you two were at the same school. You weren’t sure you could handle all the stares and attention he got from other girls, because he for damn sure got it. You remembered one valentine's day the amount of chocolates and notes he brought home from school. The year after you had decided to make chocolates for him yourself, but when they turned out terribly misshapen -still tasty- you ate them yourself.

Little did he know, you had a framed picture with him on your vanity…Not in a creepy way. It was from a few summers back where your group of friends had gone camping and he went along with some of his friends to basically chaperone. Therefore, there were other people in the picture, not just him. Your favorite part of it was that he is standing behind you with that beautiful smile, his hand resting on your head. Right after the picture was taken, he ruffled your hair, then dispersed with the rest of the group. That night, several of your friends flirted and joked with his friends, but you and he sat aside, watching the shenanigans. You were both exhausted but would be teased endlessly if you went to bed, so you sat together under a tree watching the fireflies. It wasn’t until later that you had found out you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he fell asleep with his head resting on yours. Rumor had it, your best friend had a picture, but refused to show you. She claimed she needed it for when she did something otherwise unforgivable and needed an out.

One day you were over at her apartment, both of you studying on a hot late-spring day, the open windows allowing for a nice breeze to waft through. Her apartment was settled above her aunt's bakery and so she got a discount on rent. Since their aunt and uncle had no children themselves, Doyoung was set to inherit the business in a few years. On nice days, they would sit outside and offer samples and coupons to people walking by, and his beautiful face always drew people in like flies. It was honestly amazing to listen to him chuckle and converse with customers, but also distracted you from your studies. Often your friend would catch you, eyes closed, reveling in listening to him, daydreaming.

"Yah! Get to work." She tapped the end of her pencil on your notebook.

"Sorry." You snapped out of it and got back to taking notes. Summer break was approaching, which meant so were finals. Not too worried about it you realized you might gain a reason to be if you continued to drift off into Doyoung land. It had become soon to closing time for the bakery, staying open till about six pm that time of year. You decided to take a break and got off the floor to pace her apartment. The remnants of the food you had delivered had been put in the refrigerator and the dishes had long since been picked up by the delivery boy. Opening the fridge, you scan through it, feeling a bit snacky but not sure what you wanted. You also had a bad habit of opening the fridge when in the kitchen even if you weren’t hungry. Going to the small balcony, you leaned on the railing to watch Doyoung sweeping in front of the store and wiping tables down. The sleeves of his white button-up were rolled to above his elbow, and his jeans were perfectly hugging-

"How's studying going?" His voice startled you and your eyes moved from his ass to his eyes. He was looking up at you like a curious bunny and it was the cutest freaking-

"Uh, it's going." You huffed a small laugh awkwardly, hoping he didn’t catch you staring.

"Do you need any help?" He asked and you blinked back. Should you take the opportunity? You really didn’t need help…You glanced behind you at the pile of books and papers on the table, as well as his sister conked out, drooling on her homework.

"Uh, yes please. I'll be right down!" You called as quietly as you could for him to still hear you, but not wake her up, and shuffled back inside to grab your study materials. Your sandals flapped on the stairs as you descended the outside staircase and moved to meet him out front.

"Let's go sit inside, it’s a bit cooler." He smiled and motioned for you to follow. He closed the doors, flipped the sign to closed, and you found a table. There were only three small tables inside, so you had to put some of your stuff on the windowsill next to you. He removed his apron - dear lord his buttons were STRUGGLING - and moved the chair from across to next to you.

"What class are you studying for right now?" He asked.

"Advanced World History." You weren’t exactly having trouble, but it was the hardest class you needed to study for. His eyes widened then he blinked at you.

"You're, what, a second year? I could have never at nineteen." He shook his head.

"Can you now?" You asked and he laughed. Your heart thudded so hard it's like she fell over the railing of a balcony.

"I can try…I should have asked what class before I offered." He huffed a nervous laugh.

"Well, maybe you can just help me go over the study guide. You know, make sure I know what I'm talking about." You handed him a green-paper packet and he turned his chair to face you better, leaning back into it. He began to go over questions, and you answered, but he tripped you up. You had memorized them in order, and he was reading off at random. This meant you had to actually know what the answer was instead of relying on repetition.

"Daeng! Try again!" He eyed you over the top of the paper playfully. You crinkled your nose, thinking.

"You're so cute." he whispered, but you heard it. Your head shot up to stare at him, and realization crossed his face that he said it out loud. You expected him to brush it off as some little sister thing, but his cheeks and ears turned a bright red.

"I'm cute? Me? No, no, you're cute." You had no idea where the confident flirtation came from, but you were dead serious. He blinked at you again.

"Cute." You pointed at him. Your deadpan stare and serious tone caught him off guard. He cleared his throat nervously and wouldn’t meet your eye.

"Next question." You waved the situation off, screaming inside. It was like you were having an out-of-body-experience and your filter had been removed, letting him your instinctual thoughts.

"You really think I'm cute?" He put the paper down, sitting up straight.

"You are the cutest thing on the face of the earth." Once again, you were completely serious. His whole face bloomed red, and he brought his hand to his mouth, trying to hide his giddy smile.

"Come on, keep going, we didn’t finish." You pushed the paper toward him, but he just glanced at it.

"Questions." You poked the paper.

"How long have you thought I was cute?" He put his hand down, the embarrassment dissipating and turning to smugness.

"Forever, continue." Paper was shoved. Finally, he picked up the packet and when his face was hidden, you released a rush of air to try and calm down.

"On a level of one to ten, how cute am I?" Man, he was like a dog with a bone. You rolled your eyes.

"Eleven."

"How long have you liked me?" That threw you off a bit.

"I never said I liked you-" You tried to play it off. He put the packet down.

"You think I'm cute." He smirked.

"Puppies are cute, bunnies are cute, you are cute. In what world does that mean I like you?"

"Why do you have the hoodie I lost a few years ago in your closet?"

"H-how did you know about that?"

"Saw it in the picture on your story when you were modeling the animal onesies you two got to match."

"It could have been any red hoodie; how did you know it's yours?"

"I didn’t…not until now. Plus… it’s way too big." He smirked and your violent intentions flared to life.

"You little shit!" You scolded and he guffawed. You were sure your face was as red as that sweatshirt.

"How did you even get it?" He questioned and you exhaled harshly.

"I was at your house when it was just me and your sister. We had ordered pizza, but I was in my bathing suit since we were playing with the hose outside in the heat. The doorbell rang and I wasn’t answering the door in my school swimsuit, so I grabbed the first thing out of the clean laundry I could find." You shared and he hummed.

"Just you in my hoodie, hm?" His gaze had changed, and you weren’t sure how to feel.

"Oh, hush, pervert." You mumbled, glancing out the window at the setting sun. You heard the chair scrape on the floor, then felt him standing next to you, close enough to feel his warmth. Turning to glare up at him, your neck cracked having to bend back too far. He was so close. If you breathed too deeply your chest would brush against him. That thought made your breath hitch. Do not breathe. However, the air was stolen from your lungs when his hands, his BEAUTIFUL hands, cupped your jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered, his lips already slightly touching yours.

"Ye-" You didn’t even finish your acceptance and he instantly latched onto you. You whined, any sass draining from you instantly. Carefully, you lifted your arms and clutched his shirt above where it was tucked into his jeans. His hand moved from your jaw to back of your neck, deepening the kiss. His other hand ran down your arm and settled politely on your waist. Doyoung finally pulled away and your breath came out harsh, sucking in air. After your lung's respite, he was on you again, this time his tongue snuck past your lips, brushing at yours. You gasped and he swallowed it, backing you up till your back hit the wall. Both hands ended up pinning you in as he placed them on the wall and your hands left his side the clutch the fabric over his chest. Once again, he pulled away right as you needed to tap out for air. A small trail of saliva connected your lips, and he licked over his own, breaking the connection. He moved to bend down, most likely to kiss your neck, but you stopped him.

"We can’t, not here. Your sister could come down any minute. At least let me get the rest of my stuff. We can go to my place, it’s closer." You whispered and he backed up a bit.

"Don’t you live in a dorm?"

"Yes, but my roommate works nights." You were still so close that your lips brushed as you talked. He grunted, backing up, and you moved toward the door so fast, you almost slipped. Your left sandal came partially off, and you fixed it, before shuffling rapidly out and upstairs again. Being as quiet as possible, you entered her apartment and grabbed your other things, shoving them in your bag. You bumped your leg on the table as you moved around and fought back a grunt. His sister was still asleep, so you laid a blanket over her shoulders and shut the windows, hitting your leg again on the other corner of the table. Coming down about five minutes later, you saw he was behind the counter when you reentered, probably finishing last-minute business. You shoved all your study materials haphazardly into your bag and then waited patiently for him to finish. You were sure you looked EXTRA sexy with frizzy humidity hair, panting like an old dog with two still-forming bruises on your shins. He went into the back then came out with his own bag and smiled innocently as he met you.

"Ready?" He whispered directly into your ear, and you wanted to scream YES! but refrained.

"Yep." You tried to stay casual, and he chuckled. He led you outside and across the street to his car. It was nice, not super fancy, but still pretty nice. It was a dark blue with black leather seats. You weren’t sure your bare, sweaty thighs would love the upholstery. Getting in, you threw your bag in the back along with his and before you could reach for your seatbelt, he was doing it for you. Right as he clicked it, he gave you a brief peck on the lips. He went to start the car and your hand flung out to rest on his arm.

"Wait…I need to know, what- how do you feel about me?" You did not want this to be a one-night stand, a fling. You were pretty sure this was more than a crush, could be full-on love, and you didn’t want your heart broken. Especially not by him, anyone but Doyoung. His gaze turned to you, soft, and he sighed.

"Honestly, it was last year that I really realized what was going on. It was your birthday party at the noraebang, and you were singing with one of the guys there. I don’t remember his name. Anyway, it was a romantic duet and despite the fact that he could sing, and you cannot-"

"Hey!"

"I couldn’t stand seeing you so close to another guy. Watching you struggle to read the prompter because your contacts weren’t the right prescription, was just so freaking cute. Then you smiled at me so brightly when the song ended, at least I saw it that way. I only wanted you to smile at ME like that. I've been hiding it, because I didn’t think you would want to go out with your friend's big brother…" He tapped awkwardly on the steering wheel, giving you a sheepish look.

"My dude, that is like the most popular trope in fanfiction, you realize that right?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, that and a daddy kink-"

"Okay, thanks, that's all I need to know!" He sighed again.

"I really, really like you." He finished and you brought your hand to rest on his, wrapping your fingers around his, resting them on the center console.

"I really, really, really like you." You emphasized the third really. He smiled sweetly and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"If this is too fast for you-"

"I have been waiting YEARS for this. Drive!" You pointed forward and he laughed, doing as you said. Once you got to campus, you directed him to the parking lot nearest your dorm building. There were still people walking about in the dusk light, and you grabbed your stuff and his hand, leading him inside. Going up to your floor, you drag him down the hall, awkwardly nodding to your neighbors. They were gawking at Doyoung, and it pissed you off. You grumbled as your keycard refused to work the first time, getting more upset that you were letting them eye-hump your man…In reality it was probably because there was a dude there, not what he looked like. You finally saw the light turn green and heard the lock click open. Shoving the door open, you yanked him inside. Throwing your bag on the floor, you used your card to enter your room as he looked around the tiny dorm living room. Another room was across from yours where two other girls lived.

"Don’t worry these walls are REALLY soundproof." You reassured, shutting the door as he entered.

"How do you know that?" He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Because if one of them ever brings a guy, I don’t hear anything." You motioned vaguely. While your room was clean, bed made, you panicked upon seeing your rabbit stuffed animal on the bed. You grabbed it, its name might or might not have been Doyoung, and yeeted it into your closet.

"What are you hiding?" He teased and you closed the door to the closet, before being backed into it.

"Nothing." You tried to cover the act up by resting your forearms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his neck. He hummed suspiciously, bumping your forehead with his, before very softly kissing you. It was different than before, this felt more like love than lust. It made your head swim more than the previous kisses. He pulled back after a much shorter time, and he ran his hands over your frizzy hair.

"You're beautiful." His soft voice made you want to cry.

"So are you," You brought him down to your level again and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you so close you could feel the buttons of his shirt dig into your stomach. One hand drifted to your short-clad ass and gripped. You let out a gasp and his tongue once again invaded. He was the best kiss you'd ever had. You also had a feeling he was about to be the best in other ways too. Disconnecting your lips, he moved down, laying wet kisses and sucks on your neck. You let out a shaky exhale as he sucked over your pulse. You knew the position he was in was probably not comfortable, having to bend over so far due to his height.

"Move to the bed?" You offered and he laid one more kiss on your neck, then pulled back to allow you both to move. You barely sat down on the bed before he pushed you lightly onto your back and crawled over you. He stared warmly down at you for a second, then shoved his knee between your legs, grinding his thigh into you.

"Ah!" You moaned softly and his lips reattached to yours. He dominated the kiss, and you were totally fine with it. As his tongue wrapped around yours, your hands flew to the buttons on his shirt, shakily undoing them as quickly as you could.

Much to your disappointment, he was wearing a white tank top underneath, hiding his bare body. He broke the kiss to remove the shirt and…fuck. Just seeing his bare shoulders did enough for you... While to many that may not be sexy, that was the most of Doyoung's skin you had seen. He smirked at your gawking, watching your reaction as he removed the tank top and let it fall to the floor next to the bed. Despite the fact that you had never heard of or seen him work out, he was nicely toned. For a man who liked to lie in bed all day, he had a nice body.

"Your turn," He argued when you tried to kiss him again. You swallowed, nervous, but none the less sat up to remove your own tank top. You were in a sports bra underneath, super sexy, and you hesitated, but removed it as well. Instantly, he was on you. He manhandled you to wrap your legs around his waist, and his lips latched onto a nipple. You sighed at the feeling, never being much sensitive there, but since it was him, you actually shivered a bit…He let go with a pop and you felt a surge of adrenaline, pushing him off. He landed on his back, using his elbows to prop himself up. Before he could question you, you straddled him, running your hands over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to see you like this." You whispered and he huffed in amusement. As you stroked his skin, his hands grasped at you, linking his fingers through the belt loops of your jean shorts. With a handle to hold onto, he pulled you down and grinded up into you. Since you were both wearing denim, there wasn’t a ton of sensation, but the act itself made you both groan. You could tell he was getting harder by the second, and you were sure your underwear was already ruined. He continued to grind up into you, making your hands falter.

"Okay!" you declared, climbing off of him just enough to move down the bed and fumble with his belt. He seemed shocked, but when he tried to protest you shot him a glare. He relaxed back onto his elbows again as you undid his pants. You rubbed his cock through the fabric of his boxers, salivating slightly. Finally pulling him out, you gasped, staring at him. While not absolutely huge, he was bigger than anyone you had been with before.

"(Y/N)-" Doyoung's thought dropped off when you ran your tongue up the length of him. Unfortunately, no moan or groan came out, be he did let out a harsh exhale. You had no idea how long you had wanted to do this, and no one, not even him, was going to stop you. Not that he wanted to stop you. After a few more licks and kisses, you wrapped your lips around the head and began to descend. Finally, he let out a light groan and it sounded heavenly. You couldn’t get all of him in your mouth without using your throat, so that’s what you did. When your lips met the skin of his pelvis and you swallowed, his arms gave out and he flopped onto his back. His gorgeous fingers dug into your scalp, gripping your hair but not moving you. You swallowed again and then began to bob your head, taking him into the base each time. He was getting louder, and his noises made you moan.

"Fuck!" He cursed at the vibration. So, you did it again.

"(Y/N) if you don’t stop, I'm gonna cum." He warned. You didn’t stop. You wanted him to cum down your throat. Continuing, if not increasing your pace and sucking strength, he let out a whining moan and thrust up slightly as you felt his cum shoot down your throat. Swallowing it all down, you slowly pulled off as he caught his breath. He looked up at you as you made sure to get every drop that had spurted around your lips. Seeing that did something to him, and he shot up, pining you down roughly against the bed. You squeaked in surprise as he rapidly undid the button of your shorts and yanked them off. He paused at your panties; they had little ducks on them. He gave you a look, to which you shrugged, and then those too were yanked off. You watched as he took his fingers and ran them up your soaked slit. You moaned, eagerly anticipating him fingering you. His hands were just so-

"Doyoung!" He had suddenly shoved a finger inside of you. He quickly found your sweet spot, surprisingly so, and the pleasure shook you. Without warning he added another finger, scissoring them as you tried to catch your breath. Hovered over you, waiting till you got enough air for him to kiss you. When you could finally breathe easily, his lips attached to yours, his tongue wrapping around yours. You were in heaven, and he wasn’t even fucking you yet. You weren’t sure you could handle the pleasure. He left your lips, and you threw back your head, the pleasure of his now three fingers building rapidly.

"Oppa, I'm gonna cum." You moaned and something about the pet-name got to him, and his movements intensified, his thumb moved to your clit.

"Then do it," he ordered, and you saw white. He continued his assault, helping you ride out your orgasm. Before you got too over stimulated, he pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth to suck your juices off. You gaped at him, body feeling limp. By that point he was completely hard again, and he spread your legs, placing one knee up over his elbow, rubbing the head of his cock against your still twitching hole.

"Oh, please-" You encouraged, and he slowly began to ease into you. The stretch stung a bit, but the overwhelming feeling and emotions overpowered it. As he slowly got deeper you tried desperately to not cum again so soon. Having Doyoung inside of you, finally, was better than you ever dreamed. He finally was in all the way, barely bumping your cervix. You felt so full.

"G-give me a second." You gripped his biceps, controlling your breaths to get used to the feeling. He kissed over your face as you got used to him, ending with a soft peck to your lips.

"Ready?" He questioned and you nodded. He started slow, barely pulling out before going as deep as he could, grinding his pubic bone against your clit. Your breath hitched each time.

"More." You pled and he smirked. He hitched your other leg up as well then began to thrust harder, pulling out halfway before slamming back in. You could already feel an orgasm building, it made your head swim. Nothing had EVER felt this good. He continued the half-thrusts and after a particularly hard grind you came undone again. It shocked both of you, and he halted his movements as you clenched around him. His brows furrowed at your tight walls fluttering, trying hard not to cum himself. He wanted to give you the most pleasure he could before he finished. Once your orgasm had calmed, he began the slow pace again. He quickly built speed though and you practically screamed when he began to fuck you in earnest. You were were practically bent in half as he loomed over you, fucking you into the mattress. Your hands flew up to grip at his bare back, your nails dragging and leaving red lines. Doyoung groaned at the feeling and dug his own nails into your thighs. The slight prick of pain excited you, more than you thought it would. That was something to be explored later, though. All of a sudden, he pulled out and you exclaimed.

"What-!" With much more strength than you thought he had, he flipped you over onto your hands and knees. You barely kept your balance before he slammed back in, knocking your arms out from under you. Your front half fell to the bed, and you gripped the sheets to hold on for dear life. He was deeper now, each thrust ramming his head against your cervix. Tears pricked at your eyes; the pleasure so intense you almost weren’t sure you could handle it. Then, his hand came down harshly on your ass and you yelped.

"Fuck, do that again please." You pleaded and you could practically hear him smirk. He landed another hit, on the other side this time, most likely leaving a big red handprint. The somewhat flimsy wooden bed frame provided by the college rocked, the headboard knocking into the painted brick wall. If you weren’t being fucked out of your mind you would have made note that despite the unsteadiness, a lot of students had probably done something like that. That alone proved the resilience of the beds. Your hands above your head were gripping your sheets hard, and his hands left your hips to cover yours. He linked his fingers with yours, his thrusts getting slightly off rhythm. As he fucked his cock into you, each time he buried fully back into you, more of your braincells floated away. Nothing else came to mind but your impending orgasm.

"Doyoung…gon-gonna cum~." You whined.

"Me too, hold on a bit, princess," he grunted, leaning over you more, one arm wrapping around your middle, so his hand laid on your lower stomach. His thrusts got shallower, but no less deep, pressing on your tummy to feel himself inside you.

"Cum inside." You told him and he almost outright stopped.

"I'm on birth control pills, please cum inside." You pleaded and he swore several times, grinding into you. When you felt his hot cum shooting inside, it knocked you over the edge. You saw stars and swore you blacked out for a few seconds. When you came to, he was pulling out and a great deal of fluid was flowing down the inside of your thighs.

"You squirted." He informed and you barely registered what he said.

"Huh?"

"You soaked me." He chuckled and you propped yourself up to look back at him. You gaped at the very obvious splatter of wet covering his lower half.

"Shit! I'm sorry! I've never done that before!"

"Shh, it's okay. It was hot." Doyoung chuckled and you sighed in relief. You slowly let your body fall to the bed till you were laying on your stomach.

"Where’s the bathroom?"

"Second door across the living room." You waved your hand, already feeling drowsy. You listened as he partially clothed himself, pulling his underwear and pants back on, then left your room. Since you didn’t hear anything, you assumed your roommates were not home and he came back with a warm, damp washcloth. He was incredibly attentive and helped you clean up. Slowly, you sat up as he threw the towel on your dirty laundry. He picked his shirt up off the floor and handed it to you.

"I have clothes to change into," you pointed at your dresser, and he shook his head.

"Please?" He gave you a smug look and you narrowed your eyes at him. Snatching the shirt from him, you buttoned it up and you smiled at how the fabric pooled over you. The sleeves went past your hands, and you could practically wear it as a dress and still be decent to go outside. He sat on your bed, and you just stared at each other for a bit.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked, almost sheepishly. You furrowed your brow dramatically.

"What kind of question? YES, of course!" You glared and he laughed, tackling you. Since you were on a twin sized bed, you both could barely fit. He pressed his back against the wall and hugged you so close to him there was still a good four inches of bed at your back. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and reached to pull the comforter over you two.

"What about when your roommate comes home?" He asked as you cuddled. You glanced behind you at the clock.

"I'll text her; she can sleep on the couch." He reluctantly let you get up to retrieve your phone. You stood, texting, and he admired you in just his shirt.

"Be nicer if it was red."

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #nct #nct 127 #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #nct doyoung #nct 127 doyoung #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct smut #nct 127 smut #smut #doyoung smut #doyoung x reader

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chuuyasheaven · 1 year ago

Note

Hi im back☺️☺️ can i request prompt 2 with (who would have guessed) chuuya? I just couldnt resist after that last smut like HOLY shit i reread it every morning😭 Take your time and remember to stay hydrated💛

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ; 02 : Brat taming

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ; Chuuya has been pretty busy lately, and his needy girlfriend is being bratty abt it. This leads up to him taking you against the table. <3

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs; mean!dom!Chuuya, sub!bratty!fem!reader, fucking on a table with Chuuya, degrading kink (f!recieving), ooc!Chuuya (ig), slight spanking, kinda fingering, petnames (such as slut, baby, whore, etc.), porn without *any* plot, basically me in heat /j, etc.

ɴᴏᴛᴇs; This is a draft bcs i can. So take this while i have to take a break, i just suffer from major daddy issues right now lol. Also, this was from my new year event, enjoy! ( 5-6 months later; felt horny for Chuuya so take this while i prepare myself for a exam!!)

“Such a fuckin' brat for attention, huh?”, Chuuya tsked at you.

He had such a stressful day, just to come home to you whining and annoying him further.

Chuuya just needed to somehow ‘relief’ all that stress!

“I’m s-sorry, Chuuya!”, you said just for him to spank you.

“I don’t wanna hear it.”, he hissed.

You were being spanked on the table, bent over of course, while still having your panties on.

All his spanks just kept you wet for him.

Even though you still had some undergarments on, you could tell there was gonna be a slight hand print.

“Now, bend over for me, just where i can see you perfectly, understood?”, Chuuya commanded you, with a slightly strict tone.

Not wanting to piss him off more, you just bent over as far as you could, just how he wanted.

Waiting for his next move, you felt him rip off your panties.

But those were your favorite!

“C-Chuuya! Those were my favorites?!”, you felt his hand wrap around your neck from behind, it wasn’t too harsh, but it wasn’t very soft too.

“I can always buy you more. Now, do you want me to fuck you or do you want me to just leave you like that?”, he whispered into your ear, sneakily having his gloveless fingers tease your wet pussy.

This made you even more desperate for him, even wetting his fingers with more of your slick.

“You don’t want me to leave you so wet for me, do you? It would be such a shame, y’know?”, now he was just teasing you. For what even? To beg? As if!

“N-no..p-please, fuck me, Chuuya.. I-i need you!”, he felt a small smirk creep up his lips.

“What was that? Was it my slut begging for me to fuck her brains out?”, Chuuya never disappointed with his dirty talk, did he?

He knows what he’s doing, he just wants to frustrate you!

But it’s fair, afterall all your whining got you here..

“J-just do it already..”, you weakly said, starting to grow impatient.

“I know you can beg more nicely than that, baby.”, Chuuya denied you even further.

“C-come on, p-please, Chuuya..stop t-teasing me, I’m r-really sorry!”, you could feel yourself on the edge of desperate tears.

“Awe, my poor princess is about to cry, isn’t she? Well, if you want it, who am i to deny you?”, finally, he was gonna take you!

“But since you’ve been such a brat, i won’t go easy on you..”, i don’t care, just fuck me like the whore i am!

You heard Chuuya take off his belt, feeling relief washing over you.

When he removed his boxers, you felt him entering. Since he’s not that cruel, he’s gonna wait a few seconds before pushing in completely.

It was finally time, he started to thrust into you, just like he said before, not particularly soft..

His pace was fast and rough, which was amazing, but kinda overwhelming, but you asked for this.

“Consider me nice enough to even fuck you like this..”, Chuuya said while ruthlessly fucking you into oblivion.

“F-fuck! F-feels so good..”, you chanted, obviously already cock drunk.

“You’re already so drunk of my cock, aren’t you? Fucking slut.”, yes, it was mean, but it was just the truth!

Honestly, nobody should blame you.

You slowly felt your high approach, feeling your knot build up.

You felt Chuuya’s hitched breathing and whimpers against your ears, while he was holding your tits.

“Fuck, ‘m so fuckin’ close..”, you were getting pretty close too.

“Tell me, who’s fuckin’ slut are you?”, you better still have the ability to answer this question.

“Y-yours! I’m your slut, only you fuck me like this..”, you answered, slurring these words.

“Damn right, nobody can slut you out like i can, understood?”

Something just snapped guys.

#chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara #bsd fic smut #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

Text

For The Hell of It - Ateez X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Crack!Fic & Idol AU

Genre: Fluff, Humour, Crack

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 7,178

A/n: So, this was inspired by my own frustrations as both a tall and chubby girl and always seeing indicators about how “small” the reader is compared to the love interest in reader insert fics. It’s time to pin THEM against the wall! They swim in YOUR clothes!! Hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Disclaimer: This fic isn’t meant to ‘call anyone out’ if they use these tropes or do these things the reader rants a bit about to start. This is just me writing out some of my feelings and expression emotions surrounding my own frustrations. If you aren’t tall or chubby, you’re still most definitely welcome to read this! It might put some things into perspective for you, who knows! Also, as a reference, I'm literally as tall as Mingi, so that’s how I pictured heights in this lol there may or may not be smuts to come of this later in the future, but that’s still undecided. ;)

Summary: San finally gets to live out one of his fantasies... yet, so do all of his friends.

A Friday night unlike any other. Well, for the most part. You finally had an evening where all of your schedules lined up, so you agreed to spend the night drinking with the guys. They were all celebrating a successful tour wrapping up, and the start of a month long vacation to rest after their most recent comeback. You, on the other hand, are celebrating a promotion at work, with a generous pay raise to boot.

You’re just happy you can all find jobs that you love, and still find time with each other to spend hanging out. You haven’t been best friends for years for nothing.

“No, I’m serious!” You continue, noticing you have every single one of their gazes transfixed on you right now. “I can’t count the amount of fics I’ve read that someone has sent me where it’s supposed to be a second person point of view, only for it to say some shit like, “you looked up into his eyes” or “character tilted your head up to meet his gaze”. Don’t even get me started on the “swimming in his clothes” trope.”

The way you snort is echoed by both Yeosang and Wooyoung.

“Literally, it’s so annoying when you’re reading something, get almost fully immersed in it, only for the “he towered over your small frame” to get thrown into the mix.” You continue, gesturing at yourself with your hands to emphasize your next point. “Like, what part of me is small?”

You laugh, incredulously, and most of them can only blink at you in shock.

“Listen, if I want to imagine myself, I don’t know, sword fighting with Zoro, I’m definitely going to be eye level with him.” You rant. “I’m literally taller than he is!”

“You read One Piece fanfiction?” Jongho asks, a teasing glint in his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink.

“There is a serious lack of Shanks reader inserts, and I am devastated,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wooyoung leans forward, a mischievous quirk to the corner of his lips. “So, then, have you ever read any fanfiction about us?”

Your eyes gleam, “wouldn’t you like to know, loverboy.”

Mingi snorts out a laugh, right alongside Yunho as Wooyoung pouts.

“My one friend sent me a Changbin size kink one once,” you recall, scrunching your nose. “Weirder when you know the person, but like, I’m literally double his size. Was hilarious when my friend tried to explain to me how that was supposed to work when there’s no way in hell he could ever make me feel small.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong leans back onto the couch. “Don’t need to know that.”

“I can’t wait to tell Binnie about this,” Wooyoung cackles, already pulling out his phone to text said male.

“Like, I know it’s not the worst inclusion issue that reader inserts have,” you comment, shaking your head. “Don’t even get me started on the descriptions of skin tone or hair type. Yet, it just gets so frustrating when every fic you read isn’t as inclusive to you as you’ve been lead to believe.”

“Write your own,” Yeosang shrugs, offering a solution.

“I do!” You reply, and you watch as nearly all of their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines. “Though, half of the time it’s easier said than done.”

They nod, seemingly in understanding as you continue to rant.

“Literally, for once I just want to read a fic where the reader pins the guys against the wall.” You take another sip of your drink. “Have him wear my clothes for a change, and see how he swims in my hoodie.”

You fail to notice the way both Seonghwa and Jongho shift slightly in their spots, both swallowing thickly.

“And don’t even get me started on a lot of the chubby reader type fics out there.” You sigh, shaking your head once more. “I’m more than just my insecurities, but that’s all chubby people seem to be known for. Like, I’m fat, not ugly.”

The guys all tip their drinks in acknowledgement at that, agreeing with you wholeheartedly.

“Do you know how venerating it was when Resident Evil Eight came out, and everyone and their mom started simping for Lady Dimitrescu? Confidence boosting to the max. The fics that came out of it were immaculate.” You lift your hands in front of you for emphasis, touching your pointer finger to your thumb.

“Oh yeah, Sannie boy had much to say about her,” Wooyoung teases, and you notice the aforementioned man turn bright red.

“Hey!” He reaches over to hit Wooyoung’s knee harshly.

“Boy wanted to be pinned to the wall so bad he asked me to do it for him,” Yunho chuckles, only causing the younger male’s blush to deepen.

“Did you do it?” You raise a brow, pure mirth dancing on your features.

“No,” Yunho chuckles, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

“Neither did I,” Mingi adds, grin stretching across his features and causing his eyes to crinkle at the sides.

You turn to Seonghwa who just shakes his head in response.

“Wow, some friends you are,” you laugh, turning your gaze to a pouting San in the next moment. “Still want to be pinned to a wall?”

Suddenly, he can no longer meet your gaze, embarrassed sputters escaping his lips. Yet, he doesn’t deny it.

“Wait, have none of you ever been pinned to a wall?” You look around, seeing as they all shake their heads in response. “Received a kabedon by someone you like?” More denials fall from their lips. “Then, I’m assuming you’ve never been lifted against a wall, either?”

“Can’t say that I have.” Jongho grumbles, lips tugging downwards in the corners as if the thought greatly distresses him.

“Seriously, you guys are missing out.” You take a sip of your drink. “Though, can’t say that I have, either. In fiction, though, apparently I’m a goddamn feather.”

A brief moment of silence passes over all of you as you collectively take sips of your drinks. Then, you’re turning to look at San.

“Do you still want to be pinned to the wall?” Your brow quirks as you ask him this for the second time, noticing how more than just San shifts slightly in his spot.

He averts his gaze, suddenly finding the coffee table between you the most fascinating thing. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” you stand, stretching your back out as you do so. “Let’s go.”

His head immediately raises to look at you, mild shock pulling at his features. It’s most apparent in the slight way his eyes widen, lips parting as he meets your gaze.

“I’ll pin you to a wall if you want,” you shrug stepping out of the sitting area and cracking your neck. “I am taller than you, and as long as you’re okay with it-“

“No fair! How come San is the only one that gets to be pinned to a wall by you?” Wooyoung complains, quite loudly at that.

“Oh, my offer is open to all of you,” you huff out an amused laugh. “If you want.”

The way you see them all straighten has the grin on your lips widening.

“I can’t promise I’m who you want to pin you, but just picture it’s someone else if you’d like.” You shrug. “But I’m willing if you are.”

Wooyoung physically hops off of the couch before attempting to male his way over to you. Only, he gets harshly pulled back down into his spot by Yeosang in the next moment.

You quirk a brow.

“The offer was for San first,” Yeosang grumbles, and though he tries to hide it, his cheeks begin turning the slightest bit darker as a blush dusts his features.

“So,” you trail off, tilting your head slightly to the side, “is that a ‘yes’?”

Both Yunho and Hongjoong quirk their bros at you, while Wooyoung nods eagerly. At the way Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Mingi blush, you know you have them, too.

“Well, if you’re offering,” Jongho shrugs, tossing the remaining contents of his drink back as he settles fully into the couch.

Wordlessly, Mingi pours him another one.

“Make it sound like I’m forcing you, why don’t you,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “Just say you don’t want to do it. You don’t have to give in to peer pressure, bubs.”

“Oh no, I’d love to see this.” Jongho grins, a sudden gleam to his eyes.

“Well, I’m first!” San immediately pops up onto his feet.

You grin, “someone really is eager.”

“It’s only been the biggest fantasy of his for-“

A hand gets clamped over Wooyoung’s mouth curtesy of Yeosang.

If your eyes could go any wider, you swear that they’d fall right out of your head.

“How do you want me?” San asks, moving beside you near the wall.

“Those are dangerous words, Sannie boy,” you smirk, turning fully to face him and noticing how he glances up into your eyes. “This is all about your comfortability though. The second you want space, or anything, you let me know. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nods his understanding.

“Do you want a full immersive experience, or just what you signed up for?” You ask, taking a step towards him while he takes one back.

The sudden dark look in your eyes makes his lips part, excitement strumming through his veins. At the way you quirk a brow at him, he realizes he still has yet to answer you.

“Uh,” how is his brain already this fuzzy when you haven’t even done anything to him yet? You’ve been close before, San clinging to you more often than not. However, it’s just so much different when he’s on the receiving end for once. So much more intense.

“Immersive! Immersive! Immersive!” Wooyoung begins to chant, followed shortly by both Mingi and Yunho. Even Seonghwa cannot help but to lowly add in his voice to the chanting.

San swallows, licking his lips. “Immersive.”

A cheer rising up from the other males in the room greets your ears, and it only serves to boost your ego for the moment.

Again, you quirk a brow. “Ready?”

A nod is all the confirmation you get before you’re bringing a hand up to firmly press it against the wall beside his head. The sound of your palm making contact is synonymous with the way his breath hitches as he watches you lean into him.

Slowly, you bring your opposite hand up to rest your fingers lightly against his chin. Your eyes hood over as you lift his head to make sure he’s staring deeply into your gaze.

You shift closer, the corner of your lips quirking upwards.

San’s breathing deepens, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows again thickly. Briefly, his eyes dart down to your lips. A fact of which, you seem to notice.

“Quite a different feeling when you’re on the receiving end, huh, Sannie?” You lean in, breath ticking the shell of his ear.

A shudder wracks his entire body, goosebumps trailing up his arms as his chest just brushes against your own with each breath he takes. His lips clamp shut, suppressing the moan that wants to escape him.

“Do you want to wrap your leg around-“

The question hasn’t even finished leaving your mouth when you feel him lift his left leg to loop it around your side. Your hand immediately finds purchase on his thigh, and you can physically feel the way he trembles within your touch.

A chorus of ‘oh’s echoes behind you.

“Shut up!” San snaps, turning his head to glare at his group mates.

Unfortunately for him, the movement causes you to drop his leg, backing off of him shortly after.

San’s lucky to turn back around to face the others the moment you move off of him, for you fail to see the way he slaps the sides of his cheeks with both hands. The way he can feel his skin continuing to heat beneath his own touch only adds to the fire burning within his soul from these turn of events.

He knows you said he could picture anybody pinning him, but the fact that it was you somehow made it so much more intense. It was - you are - perfect in every way, and this has just made him realize that. How could you fit together so easily, like this was a position you had always been meant to be in with him?

The worst part is, it’s over, and he may never get to experience this type of euphoria again.

“Alright, who’s next?” You turn to the remaining males, not noticing the crisis San seems to be having against the wall behind you.

“Oh, me, me!” Wooyoung, again, eagerly pops up from the couch, only to be dragged back down by Jongho this time.

“I’ll go,” Yunho surprises you by standing to his feet. At the curious looks both Hongjoong and Yeosang send him, he’s shrugging. “What? I’m intrigued.”

“Alright, Beanpole,” you motion him over using two fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture. “You’re next.”

He mumbles slightly under his breath about you calling him ‘Beanpole’ again, stating how you’re no different, seeing as you’re practically eye-level with him. Though, with the way he eagerly steps over Mingi who still rests on the floor, you can tell he’s attempting to maintain his composure for now.

Finally, San walks back to his spot beside Seonghwa, almost as if in a daze. Only when the elder male pats the younger on the shoulder does he seemingly snap out of it. In the next moment, San sits back on the ground, pulling a pillow over his lap as he leans forward.

“If my back gives out, you guys are paying for my medical bills,” you casually comment, turning towards Yunho who leans against the wall.

“Are you planning to lift us?” Hongjoong asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Possibly,” you shrug. “Depends on if you want the full immersive experience or not. I’ve got ideas for all of you.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about this before?” Yunho’s familiar smug grin begins to pull at his features.

“Not necessarily,” you hum. “It’s just more interesting this way.”

“Then, please,” he meets your gaze, “immerse me.”

The moment those words escape his lips, you’re in front of him. Your hands gently grab his waist, before stepping directly into him. Your brow quirks just as you hear his breath hitch.

“When I tell you to jump, jump.” You say, a playful gleam shining in your eyes.

He nods.

“Jump.”

The moment your hands settle on the skin of his thighs, you press yourself fully against him. The way your chest feels rising and falling against his own sets his heart fluttering in his chest. Not to mention the way you quite literally have him pinned against the wall in your arms.

His eyes are wide, breath hitching in his throat as the full reality of the situation comes crashing down upon him. Never has he imagined that he could be the one being held against the wall like this. The way your eyes shine as they continue to stare into his own only make it that much more intense.

Yunho swallows as he hears you giggle.

Shit, he really wasn’t prepared for this.

“What’s the matter, Yuyu?” You tease, breath tickling the skin of his neck as you lean into him. “Tall girl caught your tongue?”

A few hoots and hollers are heard from the others as Yunho’s ears turn bright red. His lips part in answer, but no words escape him, too immersed in the feeling of your warm, plush body pressing against his own. The way that you’re suddenly slightly even taller than before as you hold him against the wall, his legs wrapped around your waist, has a pleasant shiver running down his spine.

A moment later, and you’re dropping his legs back to the floor.

You smile, patting the side of his gobsmacked face gently. “There ya go, beanpole. Now you know what it’s like.”

Turning around, you see Mingi practically rush to his feet. “Me next.”

You chuckle at his eagerness as Yunho slowly walks back to his spot, caught in a trance.

Just as San was before him, Yunho cannot help but marvel at the feeling of having you pin him to the wall. He never really thought about it before, and it was simply to sate that curiosity in his mind, but the fact that it was you, and that he enjoyed it immensely because it was you, is making his head spin.

He swallows thickly.

“Come on, Big Boy,” you extend your hand out to Mingi in offering, to which he gladly takes.

A giddy smile rests on his features as you guide him over to the wall. The eagerness you can sense radiating off of him is contagious, and you cannot help but to mirror his expression.

Your lips part in question, but Mingi beats you to it.

“Immersive.” He confirms with a firm nod, only causing you to chuckle lightly in response.

“I think it’s safe to say we all want the immersive experience right now,” Seonghwa voices, and you spare a glance back at the group to see all of them eagerly nodding at you.

“And here I thought I was touch starved,” you joke, a giggle to your words.

“Hey!” Wooyoung complains. “When you have a pretty lady offering to pin you to the wall, call us, and then see how you feel.”

Compliments from them, especially Wooyoung, are not unusual. However, something about this time feels different when he says this. Perhaps it’s the way he never breaks eye contact with you, or perhaps it’s the way you can just feel how sincere his words are. Still, it shocks you to your core.

You let out an amused puff, turning back to face the male trembling in excitement against the wall.

“Woah, there, Big Boy,” you grin. “Don’t be turning full Chihuahua on me.”

“Oh, leave the poor man alone,” Hongjoong joins in on the teasing. “He’s just excited.”

“It’s not like I’m giving him a lap dance.” You chuckle, stepping in closer as you watch Mingi’s face turn a bright red.

“Are you offering?” Wooyoung sounds just a tad too hopeful.

“Don’t even joke about that, Woo,” San throws the pillow in his lap at his friend.

“Yeah, cause you probably wouldn’t be able to hide your boner next time.” Yeosang deadpans.

A beat of silence.

Laughter erupts throughout the room as San turns bright red once more, stuttering out denials all the while.

“You won’t be laughing when it’s your turn!” He shouts, pulling his knees up to his chest as a pout pulls at his lips.

“Hey, no judgement here,” you grin, raising your hand nonchalantly in his direction. “Huge confidence boost when knowing you can turn someone on like that.”

San sticks his tongue out in Wooyoung’s direction as if to say, ‘so, there.’

You chuckle once more, taking the time to casually lean against the wall right beside Mingi using your one hand. The way you see his whole body freeze for a moment as his breath gets caught in his throat has a smug grin pulling at your features.

“By the way, are we still on for movie night next week?” You ask casually, completely ignoring the male beside you for the moment.

“I swear, if you make us marathon Star Wars again,” Hongjoong jokingly turns to glare at Seonghwa.

“Oh, give the guy a break,” you comment. “It’s his favourite series.”

“Have you seen the new Lego Death Star that just came out?” His eyes light up, looking around hopefully at each of the males scattered around the room.

Yunho nods, somewhat aware of what the elder male is talking about as the topic of Legos is discussed.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Mingi finally calming down. Though, the slight pout that pulls onto his features has you leaning in to his ear.

“Don’t worry, Min, I haven’t forgotten about you,” you whisper, lips but a hairsbreadth from his ear. He shivers again, and you smirk. “Immersive, remember?”

In the blink of an eye, you’ve shifted your position to stand directly in front of the male. Your head is still buried in his neck, nose barely brushing against his skin as his breath hitches once more. Again, your hands settle on his hips as you lean into him, and he swears he can feel you smirking against the side of his throat.

The room goes silent, watching the scene unfold before them. The others seem just as caught off guard as Mingi is by your sudden shift in position.

Yet, why are Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong suddenly all feeling jealous?

You pull away form Mingi’s neck only to move in impossibly closer. Your one leg slips between his own, nose brushing against his as the corner of your lips tugs upwards. In the next moment, you’re lifting a hand to cup the side of his face.

The way your thumb tenderly strokes along his cheekbone as you step away mirrors how your touch fades from his skin. A fact of which he doesn’t like all that much, body attempting to follow yours as you pull away.

“Someone likes attention more than I thought,” your voice is light, a teasing glint to your eyes as Mingi begins stuttering before you.

“You can’t blame the man,” Jongho takes another sip of his drink. “You’re acting hella intimate with us all of a sudden.”

“I said immersive, remember,” you playfully wink at the youngest, noticing how he hides the lower half of his face behind his glass in the next second. “If you don’t want it, I won’t do it. I told you, I’m not trying to make any of you uncomfortable.”

“Well, more for me, then,” this time when Wooyoung stands up, neither Jongho nor Yeosang stops him. “Make it as immersive as you’d like, Darling.”

“As long as you can handle it, Baby Boy,” the moment the words slip passed your lips, a chorus of ‘oh’s reach your ears again.

Just as Wooyoung happily bounds over to you, you notice Mingi trudging back over to his spot on the floor.

Mingi cannot help himself. He’s distracted, mind reeling with the revelations of the past events that he’s just experienced. The only problem is, now, he wants more. He wants you to hold him against the wall like you did Yunho. He wants you lean into him again, just like you did with San. Only this time, he wants to feel your lips on his own.

He shakes his head. What is he thinking? You’re one of their closest friends. He shouldn’t be thinking about all the other ways that you can pin him, and then how he can pin you to the wall. Perhaps, even to the bed…

“Oh, this is going to be good,” San shifts forward, eagerly watching as his best friend finally gets to experience what he did only a short while ago.

Wooyoung is eager. In fact, he’s the most visibly eager out of all of them so far. Well, that you can tell. He even goes so far as to reach out for you, back not quite pressed against the wall.

Before he can so much as touch you, though, you have his wrists in your hands, pinning him to the wall. You lean into him, body towering over his smaller frame as a choked moan manages to escapes his lips. From the way red begins to creep up his neck, you know that he did not mean for that to come out so suddenly.

“Did I say you could touch me?” Your voice lowers, head tilting to the side almost mockingly.

His eyes go wide, and you’re surprised how willingly he shakes his head ‘no’.

The corner of your lips raise. “Good boy.”

This time, the moan that escapes him is much louder than the first. You watch on in amusement as he begins squirming beneath your hold, hips shifting slightly against the wall as you keep the lower half of your body distanced from his. He whines slightly when he realizes you aren’t budging.

Behind you, the rest of the guy’s jaws drop.

“You were just waiting for this, weren’t you?” You hum lowly, feigning concern for his current state. “Desperately wanting someone to hold you like this against the wall?”

Wooyoung bites down on his bottom lip, nodding shamelessly.

You step in closer, and you can physically feel how his body melts into yours. You lean into his neck, lips ghosting the skin just below his ear. “Good boy.”

The moment you back away from him, Wooyoung lets out a whine in protest. As soon as you release your hold on his wrists, he reaches for you, but you easily dodge his hands. A chuckle falls from your lips as you see him pout.

“So,” Hongjoong’s voice draws your attention to his smirking features across the room, “you’re a domme.”

“What was your first clue?” You quirk a brow back at him, amusement dancing in your eyes. In the next second, you shake your head, noticing how Wooyoung begins to walk back to his spot in a haze, that pout still tugging on his lips. “When I want to be, I can do both. Not that any of you will get to experience either.”

“Not that we’d want to,” Jongho rolls his eyes playfully.

You point in his direction, “hurtful.”

“Never say never,” Seonghwa breathes, seemingly lost in his own world for the moment.

Your brow raises, mild surprise painting your features as he seemingly comes back to reality. The tips of his ears begin to go red once he’s realized what he’s just said.

“Well, I think our eldest here should go next, then.” Yunho claps the male on his shoulder, giving him a firm shove forward all the while.

“Yeah, come on, Hwa,” San encourages, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “It’s much more fun than it looks.”

“It looked to me like you were having a lot of fun, there, San,” Seonghwa’s eyes sharpen slightly as he pushes himself to his feet.

“I can’t watch,” Yeosang shakes his head playfully, standing to his feet and heading down your hallway in the next second.

Your eyes follow the movement, amusement shining within.

Seonghwa stepping towards you draws your attention.

“I’ve never been a fan of getting pinned to a wall.” He states, somewhat bluntly.

“I don’t have to pin you to the wall, you know.” You grin, nudging his shoulder lightly with your own.

“I thought the whole point of this was to ‘show us what it feels like’,” Jongho comments, placing his now empty glass onto the coffee table before him.

“There are other ways to encapsulate the same types of feelings,” you reply, placing a gentle hand onto Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” He raises a brow curiously at you.

“Wrap your arms around my shoulders,” you begin, already moving to lean into him to prepare yourself for what you’re going to do. “I’ve seen videos of you guys doing this with each other, but,” you shrug briefly, “context.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrows, but he still does what you ask of him.

The moment you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, you’re bending down and lifting him into your arms.

“Oh, Jesus, I wasn’t prepared,” you wobble slightly, now carrying him bridal style in your grasp. “How the fuck do you guys make this look so easy.”

“Are you saying I’m heavy?” Seonghwa pouts, resting quite comfortably in your arms for the moment.

“No, I’m saying I’m surprised my noodle arms haven’t given out on me yet without the wall for support.” You reply, a slight chuckle to your words.

“Should we start preparing those medical bills of yours?” Hongjoong teases, though you notice there’s a certain glint in his eyes that has never been there before. Well, not that you’ve ever noticed. A glint that has only appeared due to the fact that he’s witnessing you be so close with the others. Others that aren’t him.

“Hey, can I borrow a sweater?” Yeosang calls from down the hallway. “I’m cold.”

“Go for it!” You call back, shifting your hold on Seonghwa slightly as he peers out at the rest of the guys while still held in your arms.

“You know, you’re right,” he hums, nuzzling himself deeper into you. “This is quite nice.”

“It’s the old ‘Uno reverse card’,” you chuckle, setting him back onto his feet just as Yeosang comes meandering back into the room. “You don’t realize you want it until it’s happened to you.”

Yeosang stops just beside you, blinking at the way Seonghwa slowly returns to his spot. The way the eldest glances almost longingly back at you from over his shoulder while doing so does not go unnoticed by any.

Turning your head, you finally notice that Yeosang has opted to clothe himself in one of your largest hoodies. The material quite literally drowns him, the hem reaching the middle of his thighs.

“Now, this is what I’m talking about,” you motion to Yeosang’s body, nodding approvingly.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know you like Yeosang,” San rolls his eyes, cheeks puffing slightly as he rests his chin on his knees.

“First of all, I like all of you,” you reply, a playful snort escaping you as you smile. “No, I meant the clothing difference. This is what ‘swimming in their clothes’ means. It’s nice to be on the receiving end instead.”

“But you’re not the one wearing the clothes?” Mingi’s brow furrows, confusion shining on his features.

“You know what I mean,” you wave him off. “Literally, I can understand certain size kink fics now where the character fucks their love interest in their hoodie, and nothing but their hoodie.”

“Are you saying you want to fuck me in nothing but your hoodie?” Yeosang quirks a brow, a wide grin tugging at his features.

“Depends,” you hum in response, and you watch as Hongjoong spits out his drink, choking on the liquid in the next second.

“On?” He tilts his head curiously, blinking innocently.

“You wanna wear my thigh highs, too?” The way you see his eyes nearly bulge out of his head at your words has all of you bursting into laughter.

However, what you fail to see is how Yeosang goes quiet, cheeks flaring with colour.

“Well, this is certainly a game of truth or dare I never expected to get into.” Wooyoung cackles, tossing another drink back.

“I think we’re learning more about your interests tonight than in all of the years we’ve known you.” Yunho laughs, leaning back in his chair.

“You’ve never asked,” you shrug his words off casually, mirth dancing within your eyes.

“Who’s turn is it, anyways?” Yeosang grumbles, hiding his hands deep within the sleeves of your sweater.

“Yours.” Your response causes another round of heat to spread across his cheeks.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Wooyoung nudging Jongho beside him. A male of which is clearly annoyed by the elder’s actions, but who nudges back, nonetheless.

“I don’t know how I feel about being pinned to a wall,” he raises his hands in front of himself in caution, backing away from you slowly.

The way his hands are hidden by the long sleeves of your sweater has you smiling lightly.

“If you don’t want me to, that’s quite alright,” you reply with a nod in understanding. “Like I said, I’m not about to force you guys into something you don’t want.”

“Oh, believe me,” Wooyoung chuckles, hiding somewhat behind Jongho as Yeosang takes a threatening step towards the younger male in warning. “He wants it.”

“I’ll believe it when he says it,” you tilt your head in acknowledgment in Yeosang’s direction, meeting his gaze once more.

The room goes silent, all of you turning to look at Yeosang once more.

“Uh,” he blinks, turning to look at any one of the other guys for help. Only, the way they simply watch on in glee lets him know they’re not going to do anything.

“Welp,” you turn back to the seven guys seated around your living room. “Maknae, leader, which one of you is next?”

“I’ll do it.” Yeosang’s voice from behind you draws your attention to him once more.

“Oh?” The smug grin on your face says it all, and he swallows thickly.

“Not against the wall, though.” He replies.

“That’s fine,” you reply with a nod, walking closer to him in your next breath.

You motion him closer, and he steps into you quite eagerly. Though, he does attempt to hide it, he doesn’t do a very good job.

“When I tell you to jump, jump into me,” you whisper lowly into his ear, and the way you feel him shiver as you lean away from him has that familiar smirk tugging at your lips. “Jump.”

Yeosang hesitates only a moment before quite literally leaping into your embrace. Your hands come to settle on his thighs, pulling him closer into you as he wraps his arms around your neck.

“Kind of different when you’re on the other end, isn’t it?” You smile, eyes crinkling as you watch him nod, somewhat amazed for the moment.

The way you can feel him tighten his legs around your waist has you chuckling, turning back around to face the other guys.

“This is… different than I thought it would be,” he mumbles into your ear, chin resting on your shoulder as he buried his face into the side of your neck. “It’s quite nice.”

The way you raise you eyebrows in agreement says it all, that same knowing look shining on your features.

Slowly, you lower Yeosang back to his feet, but he doesn’t release his hold from around your shoulders. Of course, you lean down slightly, allowing him to embrace you for as long as he wants.

“Another perk to it is simple things, like hugs.” You say, just as Yeosang finally pulls away from you.

Of course, you notice how he avoids your gaze now as he walks back to his spot on the couch.

“What do you mean?” Mingi inquires, knocking back the rest of his drink shortly after.

“Chest height.” You shrug, to which he immediately starts coughing at your answer. “What? You’re telling me you wouldn’t take full advantage of burying your face in your significant other’s chest if you could?”

You notice the gears in San’s head turning, before a devious look is shining in his gaze. “Does that mean I can have a hug, then?”

He starts to move, only for Hongjoong to reach over and quite harshly tug him back to the ground.

“Ow,” San begins to rub at his ass. “The fuck was that for.”

“You’re not as slick as you think you are,” Jongho rolls his eyes, standing up from the couch next.

“She didn’t deny it!” San counters, pointing in your direction all the while.

You shrug, “maybe next time.”

The way they all turn to look at you, eyes full of both mild surprise, but also excitement has you chuckling in response.

“If that excites you, you guys should all really try thigh riding,” you joke, and you notice how Jongho stumbles over his own two feet just before reaching you. “Oh, someone’s eager.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles, leaning back against the wall closest to you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that a challenge?” You quirk a brow, turning fully towards him now as you take a step forward.

“I doubt you’re up for it,” he quips, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

“You’re right,” you smirk, hand landing right beside his head as you lean into him. The way his breath hitches has your voice dropping slightly. “I’ve never really liked brats, but that doesn’t mean I’m not up for taming one.”

A mixture of loud, boisterous laughter, and pointed ‘oh’s can be heard from the others around you.

You huff, clearly amused by how silent Jongho gets. His arms fall to his sides as you step in closer, noticing how red begins to creep up his neck as he attempts to maintain his composure.

“What’s the matter, Baby Bear?” You feign concern, your nose brushing against his neck as you lean further into him. “All bark, and no bite?” He shivers as your breath caresses his skin. “Pity.”

His one hand moves to grab your hip, but you’re much quicker.

In the blink of an eye, you have his wrist pinned against the wall, your one leg sliding between his own.

“I wouldn’t try that, if I were you,” with the way your head tilts and the angle you find yourself in, you manage to be looking up at him through your lashes.

Jongho has never felt smaller in his entire life. The position he finds himself in with you, combined with your words and the way your looking at him has him melting into your touch. So, when his body sinks slightly, allowing himself to rest on top of your thigh between his own, you let him.

The worst part for him, though, is when you pull away.

Jongho just manages to catch himself before he stumbles forward, not expecting you to release him so suddenly. He can only stand there, staring intently at the floor for a good thirty seconds in order to compose himself as you turn back to the other guys.

“Goddammit,” he curses lowly. “How are you so good at this?”

You giggle, and the sound fills the room with a vibrance unlike anything before. Yet, why are their hearts suddenly racing?

“It’s nothing more than the shock of your first time experiencing something like this, probably,” you shrug him off, proud smile pulling at your features. “Or you’re all just secretly in love with me.”

This time, it’s Seonghwa who spits out his drink in response, choking on his breath soon afterwards. Comfortingly, Yunho pats his upper back.

“I’m just playing,” you chuckle, arms crossed loosely over your chest as you shake your head.

“Seriously, you were right,” Wooyoung voices, staring directly at you while Jongho slowly moves back to his seat. “I never knew I needed this until now.”

“San was right to want this,” Yeosang corrects, shooting a brief look at the aforementioned male out of the corner of his eyes.

“I’m glad I could be of service,” you salute lightheartedly, two fingers pressing to the side of your forehead before letting out a small click of your tongue as you flick your wrist.

“Hang on, you’re not done yet.” Hongjoong stands to his feet, and immediately, there’s a sudden tension that fills the room.

“Never said that I was, Captain,” you wink playfully, and you almost miss the way he loses his footing just as he steps over Mingi for the moment. Though, you chalk that up to him simply misplacing his balance.

The moment he steps before you, a silence unlike ever before fills the room. All of the guys watch on eagerly to see what you have planned for their leader, and just how he will react to it, too.

“So, I take it you want the immersive experience?” You quirk a brow teasingly.

“Give me everything you’ve got,” he replies, breathlessly.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that, yet, mister,” you poke his upper chest lightly, noticing how he tilts his head upwards slightly to meet your gaze.

“We’ll save that for later, then,” he grins, noticing how you slowly begin to back him up into the wall.

“Who said there will ever be a later?” You hum, tilting your head slightly as you watch him lightly hit the wall behind him.

His breath hitches as he looks up at you through his lashes, the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly.

“I just did.”

This time, when you place your hand beside his head, it’s slow. The movements are precise, keeping your arm straight for the moment as you casually lean into him.

“Oh, really?” You quirk a brow. “What makes you so sure that I’ll agree?”

Hongjoong smirks, his one eyebrow twitching upwards slightly. “I’m positive you’re just as curious as I am.”

“Am I?” You hum, taking a step in closer to him and noticing how his breathing deepens. “Curious of what? Are you sure you’re not just projecting, Joong?”

The way you say his name, your lips curving around the one syllable, is like music to his ears. He cannot stop himself, he goes to reach for you, a shameless whine getting caught in his throat.

Like every time before, you’re quicker. Only, this time, instead of pinning his wrist to the wall beside his head, you raise it, holding it above him as you lean over his entire body.

“You boys are very touchy tonight,” you tut, shaking your head as you lean the slightest bit more into him.

“Can you blame us?” He replies, staring up into your eyes. “This is the first time we’ve experienced a temptation like this before.”

The room remains deadly silent, as if the other seven are fully agreeing with the words Hongjoong is speaking to you right now.

“Yes, the heat of the moment can do that to people,” you chuckle, stepping the slightest bit closer to him so that he can feel your body heat against his own.

It’s slight, but you feel him arch forward in your grip, pressing his body flush against your own.

“We both know it’s more than just that,” his tone is low, sultry as he melts into your touch.

The corner of your lip quirks upwards smugly, pushing him flush against the wall.

“Is it really?” You feign innocence, leaning in to press your forehead against his own. Your noses brush. “I guess we’ll never know.”

In the blink of an eye, you’ve stepped away from him, releasing his wrist and letting it fall back to his side.

“Well, that was fun!” You chirp, completely unaware of how Hongjoong’s dark gaze never leaves your figure even for a second as you move to finally return to your own spot.

He licks his lips, clearing his throat lightly. Taking a step back towards the seating area, he blinks, refocussing his vision. The sound of laughter reaches his ears, and you all continue on as if nothing happened.

Yet, how can they just act like nothing happened when you’ve fulfilled desires within them that they didn’t even know that they had? This has certainly made them all change the way they view things, especially the way they see you.

All that they do know, is that now, they want you. In ways more than just a friend should.

496 notes · View notes

hugmekenobi · 2 years ago

Text

The Bad Batch (1)

Chapter One: Aftermath

GIF by @sinfulsalutations

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: You joined the Batch 8 months ago and everything was going well. But then, Order 66 happened and suddenly the galaxy around you changed. Now, not only do you need to be careful given your new ‘social status’, but you also need to navigate your feelings towards a certain Sergeant.

Chapter Summary: You and the Batch have to deal with the way the galaxy has changed. And secrets get revealed along the way.

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers

Warnings: Use of (Y/N) (but I’ve limited it as much as I could), swearing, canon-typical violence, character deaths, slight canon deviation (particularly in later chapters), the Force works according to what I need, angst, mild injury description, reader also digs herself a hole with some poor early choices

Word Count (Ch 1): 18.9K (so sorry, episode one is a long one)

Rating: 18+

Author’s notes: Like I said, just putting this out there cause I finished this last year and I just have it sitting in my docs and figured I’d give it a shot! Majority of the dialogue is from the show but my own parts and voice is in there too! I’ve written the reader to be someone who makes mistakes and isn’t a flawless character because that’s how I want her to be so I can understand if that’s not for everyone, I even got annoyed myself sometimes lol. But yeah, still very nervous about sharing this but if you do read, hope you enjoy! :)

MasterList

Kaller.

You watched as the young padawan left your group to head back to his master. You remembered when you had been his age. Life had been so different. You never imagined that where you were right now is how your life would’ve worked out. Fighting in a war? Or at least facing conflict of some kind? Sure, that seemed inevitable given the way your life was set out but going from a life of relative peace to a soldier (not that that label was very well accepted but it was what you believed), to a civilian, back to a soldier but fighting with a group of defective clones? No. Nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

“Credit for your thoughts?”

You smiled and turned to face the, more modulated, but all too familiar covered smokiness voice of Sergeant Hunter of Clone Force 99. You’d ran in to him and the rest of the group a long time ago- it was coming up on 8 months ago now- when they were on a mission on Devaron, one of the many planets you had settled in. You’d watched as they got themselves into a bit of bother with a rather large battalion of Separatist droids and you knew you had to help. With your assistance, along with their rather unorthodox tactics, the droids had been taken care of quickly and you found yourself not wanting to leave them so when Hunter offered you a spot on his squad, you hadn’t hesitated. At the end of the day, you were back doing what you enjoyed- helping people. Of course, something you hadn’t fully thought through and something you quickly realised was that, with them being soldiers of the Republic, you were often in the presence of a Jedi which wasn’t ideal. You huffed out a breath before replying, “That would just be a waste of your rather limited funds.”

“You’re okay though?” Hunter asked, lightly touching your shoulder.

Even though his helmet was on, you could feel his eyes looking into yours. You pushed away the heat that began to spread through your body. The last thing you needed was to get that warm and fuzzy feeling you so often felt in front of the clone with enhanced senses. That had been getting harder and harder lately. Yes, upon first meeting him, you’d noticed that he was a rather attractive, but you’d hoped that feeling would only run surface deep, but you’d been wrong.

Over the months you’d been alongside him, that feeling only grew until it became a deeply engrained part of you. There were moments where perhaps you thought those feelings were reciprocated. A few months into your new membership, after spending your time sleeping in one of the ship’s passenger seats, the two of you began share his bunk in both the ship and their barracks because, according to him, ‘sleeping in one of those chairs wasn’t a suitable way to live or prepare for missions’.

Moreover, you were often paired up with him on these missions, but you convinced yourself this was nothing more than him being a good friend and sergeant. Yes, it was all platonic. Friends platonically shared a bunk and often woke up in each other’s arms. Yes, it could only possibly be platonic. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Hunter, can we do this already, I wanna attack some droids!” Wrecker complained loudly.

You drew your hood and mask up and followed Hunter over to where Echo, Tech, Wrecker and Crosshair were standing.

You took your weapon from the sheath slung over your back. You’d melted down a bunch of vibroblades to make this. It wasn’t quite the length of a sword, but it was close enough, and it was the nearest thing to a positive reminder of home you had.

“I still don’t understand why you use that and not a blaster. Logically, a blaster is more practical for a battle.” Tech observed.

“You know Tech, sometimes you don’t need to understand everything. This works just fine for what I need.” You replied simply.

“Okay. Everyone ready?” Hunter asked.

You and the others nodded.

You took a breath to calm your pounding heart. This mission would be the closest you’d come to encountering the many Jedi masters scattered across the galaxy. You’d always managed to not stick around too long after the job was done. You tended to hang back, usually with Crosshair, avoiding any and all interaction whilst the others spoke to them, but you sensed this mission would have you in closer proximity than you would like. You couldn’t put a finger as to why you felt this way, a large factor was probably you and the group were the only reinforcements available so there wouldn’t be many buffers, but there was also something else that was bothering you- you were going to tell them after the mission today and you had no idea how it would go down or just how bad their reactions would be. You couldn’t dwell on it for too long though, Wrecker had dislodged the boulder and it had begun its course down the cliffside, so you all began your descent to the droids below.

It was child’s play really. You gelled well with the rest of them. Every droid you came across fell victim to a stab of your weapon and Wrecker didn’t need your help getting rid of the tanks, much to your relief. You weren’t sure you would be able to get away with that today. It was over relatively quickly. Chopping off the last droid’s head, you began walking over to where Caleb and his master were taking cover. Maybe you could hide behind Wrecker and go mostly unseen.

“If you’re done hiding down there, I suggest you launch a counter-attack.” Hunter said, removing his helmet. “Another droid battalion is approaching.”

“The General is the one who gives the orders around here.”

The Jedi Master put her hand up to appease the clone captain. “He’s right Captain this is our chance. Launch the counterattack.”

“Yes General.” He said a tad reluctantly before addressing the rest of the battalion. “Alright men let’s go!” He ordered before he, the Padawan and the General made their way out their bunker towards you all.

Wreaker pushed his way past Echo, leaving you a bit more exposed than you would like. “There you are little Jedi. You missed all the fun!”

“Watching your team in action was the fun.” Caleb replied with a smile.

“Care to introduce your new friends Caleb?” She asked.

Fuck. You watched as the General lowered her hood. That was Depa Billaba. There was a very strong chance she could recognised you. You adjusted your mask over your nose, making sure it suitably covered as much of your face as it possibly could.

“Yes Master. This is Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, Tech, Crosshair and…” He trailed off and looked past Wrecker slightly. “Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name earlier.”

You coughed and stepped forward beside Wrecker as you told her your name.

The Jedi Master let out a hum as she heard it. “Forgive me, that name sounds very familiar. Have we met before?” Depa mused, her eyes peering into your own.

You avoided her gaze quickly. “No.” You replied before retreating back into the safety of the group.

Hunter watched you carefully. He knew you didn’t like interacting much with the other people the mission involved but this time you seemed even more uncomfortable than usual.

She stared at you for a moment longer before returning her focus back to the group as a whole. “While I’m not sure fun is the sentiment I would express. I agree with my padawan. Your exploits were quite impressive.”

“Exploits?” Wrecker repeated, confusion in his voice.

“Don’t overthink it, Wrecker.” Crosshair said, before walking off.

You followed him; you really didn’t want to be a part of this interaction.

“Thank you General.” Echo said.

“Now would one of you please explain where my actual reinforcements are.”

“Re-routed to the Capital. We’re all you’re getting.” Hunter answered.

“Ha! We’re all you need!” Wrecker added.

“Actually, if my intel is correct, the general will not need any of us. The Clone War will soon be over.” Tech said.

“Better tell that to the clankers headed our way.” Depa’s clone captain countered.

“I am referring to the encrypted comm chatter. Clone intelligence is reporting General Obi Wan Kenobi has found and engaged General Grievous on Utapau.” Tech explained.

“If he captures or kills Grievous, the Separatist command structure would collapse.” Echo theorised.

“And most likely the droid armies along with them.” Tech added.

“A fascinating theory yet unfortunately not something we can control from here. I suggest we focus on the task at hand.” Depa suggested.

“Any orders?” Hunter asked. “Or shall we do what we do?” He added before putting on his helmet.

“Let’s blow something up! Yeah!” Wrecker cried enthusiastically.

“Well Caleb, shall we let them ‘do what they do’?” She asked her young padawan.

“Only if I can go with them.” He answered happily.

“Very well.”

“Hey kid you ready for this? We move fast.” Hunter told him.

“Good, that’s the only way I know.” He replied smoothly before running off.

“I like him!” Wrecker said before him, and Echo followed.

Giving a quick salute, Hunter too ran off.

You had noticed the group had dispersed so you and Crosshair ran towards the squad too. You were keeping pace with Caleb at the back but as you were running, your body ran cold, and you knew it wasn’t the Kaller climate. Something was wrong, you could feel it. You knew Caleb did too because you both slowed down at the same time and that was when you heard the blaster fire. You turned around and your heart sank to your stomach.

“Master.” Caleb said, his voice filled with concern.

“Caleb, wait!” You tried to grab him, but he turned and began to run back to the sight where his master was fending of a group of clones.

“Master!” He cried out again, igniting his lightsaber.

Hunter and the rest of the squad too began to hear the blaster fire and stopped and turned around to see what was happening.

You watched helplessly as the Jedi Master took multiple blaster bolts and as you heard her final cry, you felt a pain that wasn’t just from this. It felt like the pain of an entire galaxy, and it took everything in your power not to fall to your knees. You couldn’t give yourself away. You inhaled deeply and saw Caleb making his way back to you, but you heard Hunter and the others approaching and as they did so Caleb stopped and looked warily at the group of clones.

“Stay away from me!” He demanded, before running off into the forest.

“Kid, wait!” Hunter called after him.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked, coming to stand beside Hunter.

“Wha, what just happened?” Echo asked.

“The comm channel is repeating one directive. Execute Order 66.” Tech explained.

“Yeah, I heard that too. What’s Order 66?” Wrecker inquired.

“I am not certain.” Tech said with a slight sigh.

“Well can you get certain?” You snapped aggressively.

The others all turned to look at you.

You sighed. “Sorry. Just shocked, that’s all.”

Hunter studied you for a moment before addressing the group. “Echo, Tech talk to the Reg captain. Find out what you can.” He looked to you and Crosshair. “We will track down the kid and make sure nothing happens to him. Wrecker, stall anyone who tries to follow us.”

The three of you ran into the woods. You knew you could find him quicker than Hunter could track him but until you knew what exactly this order was, your secret would have to remain a secret.

“He’s close.” Hunter said quietly.

You looked in the trees around you and you spotted a huddled brown figure on a tree branch. You nudged Crosshair and subtlety pointed up. “There.”

Hunter followed your gaze. “Come on down kid. We’re here to help.”

You noticed Crosshair fiddling with his sniper. “What are you- No!” You watched in horror as Crosshair fired on the branch and the young Jedi deflected the bolt.

“Liar!” He shouted before jumping away.

“What are you doing?” Hunter asked, stunned.

“Following orders.” Crosshair answered.

You just stared at him. “You don’t even know what the order is.”

“Stand down.” Hunter ordered, pushing Crosshair back. “Until we know what’s going on.” He walked off, tugging your arm gently to get you to follow him.

You shook your head at Crosshair before following Hunter.

“Good soldiers follow orders.” Crosshair said once the two of you were out of earshot before he walked after you.

The comm linked chirped and Wrecker’s gruff voice came through. “Hunter, you’ve got regs in bound.”

“Copy that.”

“We have a situation.” This time it was Tech’s voice.

“Tell us something we don’t know, Tech.” You answered.

“It appears the regs have been ordered to execute the Jedi.”

You immediately stopped walking. You felt lightheaded and your knees were definitely threatening to buckle and this time you weren’t so sure you could resist, so you leaned against a tree.

“What? Which Jedi?” Hunter asked.

“All of them. They’re saying the Jedi have committed treason.” Tech clarified.

“That would explain things.” Crosshair said.

“It doesn’t begin to explain things!” You snapped, pushing off the tree to walk towards him.

“I suggest you get back here.” Tech inserted.

“Can’t, haven’t found the kid yet.” Hunter explained.

Crosshair turned and raised his rife. “Wrong.” He fired.

You watched Caleb fall and ignite his lightsaber and come running at Crosshair.

“Stop!” You shouted at Crosshair before trying to grab his rifle, but he pushed you back and continued firing at the padawan.

“Crosshair, stand down!” Hunter ordered.

Caleb landed a blow to the rifle causing it to fall from Crosshair’s grip.

“Don’t!” Hunter called out.

Caleb landed a hard kick to Crosshair’s chest, causing his to crash into the bottom of a tree.

You turned to face Caleb and spoke calmly to him. “Take it easy, kid.” You took a slow step towards him. “Easy.”

You heard the sound of Hunter’s blaster hitting the ground and he also began to slowly walk towards the boy. “We’re on your side.” He said.

Caleb turned and ran.

You shot Hunter a look and the two of you ran after him. As you approached where he was, you saw he had stopped at the edge of a cliff. You and Hunter both slowed your advance.

“Stay back!” He cried.

Hunter removed his helmet, and you followed suit by taking down your hood and mask.

“Just hear us out.” You said gently.

“No. You killed her!”

“The others did. We’re just as confused as you are.” Hunter replied.

You saw the fear and uncertainty in Caleb’s eyes. You inhaled deeply. It was worth a shot, so you reached out into his force signature. Caleb, listen to me.

Caleb turned his gaze towards you, his eyes wide with surprise. You’re a-

Yes, but I’ve not been a part of The Order for a long time.

They killed her. I can’t trust them.

They didn’t kill her Caleb. He wants to help you. Let him, no harm will come to you I can promise you that. Trust him.

Do he and the others know about you?

No. You knew there was no point in lying to him.

Then how am I supposed to believe I can trust them when you haven’t even told them who you are?

There were a series of reasons for why I- You can- Please Caleb listen to me.

No!

Caleb don’t- You shook your head slightly in mild discomfort. He’d pushed you out. You wouldn’t be able to communicate with him like that now unless he was the one to instigate it.

Hunter’s eyes darted between you both. He couldn’t think of how, but he could’ve sworn the two of you just had a conversation. He brought his attention back to the frightened padawan in front of him. He slowly continued his approach.

“Stay back! Stay back!” Caleb shouted.

“We can help you. Come with us.” Hunter moved forward again and reached his hand out.

Caleb glanced at you whilst backing towards the edge. I won’t tell him, but I can’t go with you.

You nodded sadly but you couldn’t blame him. If you were in his position, you weren’t sure you would go either. Suddenly, you all heard the sound of regs heading in your direction and you knew your time was up.

“No!” Hunter called out but it was too late. Caleb turned and jumped across the river and with one last look back, he disappeared into the woods.

Perhaps, if you were smart, you would’ve followed him, but you didn’t want to leave your squad and you needed answers too. You’d kept it a secret this long, it would just be a little harder now. You and Hunter watched him go and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Crosshair approach.

“Where’s the Jedi?” He enquired.

“I stunned him when he jumped. He didn’t make it.” Hunter answered soberly before turning away.

Crosshair glanced at you. You only glared at him and turned to follow Hunter.

The ship came out of hyperspace. “We are coming up on Kamino.” Tech announced.

“It’s good to be home. How long’s it been?” Wrecker asked.

“One hundred and eighty rotations in a standard cycle but galactic zone changes put the adjusted figure at around two hundred and five.” Tech explained.

“What?” Wrecker replied, face filled with confusion.

Echo sighed. “A long time.”

“You got that right!” Wrecker replied with a laugh.

Despite everything that just happened, you chuckled slightly. Something you never grew tired of was the dynamic between all of them. You adjusted yourself slightly from where you were platonically sitting on the floor, leaning against Hunter’s legs. You noticed that Crosshair was staring at you both.

“What?” Hunter asked, without opening his eyes.

“You sure that padawan died when he fell?” Crosshair asked.

“It was pretty easy to deduce, Crosshair.” You snapped.

Crosshair looked back to Hunter.

“Sure I’m sure. Why?” He replied, looking over at him.

“Well usually when someone falls you look down. Not across.”

“Or some of us don’t like to watch.” You added solemnly before standing up and moving towards the front window.

Hunter got out of his seat and followed you.

As you entered the rather wet and thunderous planet atmosphere, two ships set themselves up on either side of The Marauder. “Unidentified transport transmit your clearance code.”

“Clearance code?” Echo repeated. “Don’t they know who we are?”

“Must be a protocol drill.” Tech stated before transmitting the code.

“Authorisation confirmed. Proceed to landing bay one-tac-one.”

As the ship landed and you all walked out, you could not only see but feel that something was different.

“Shock troopers? What’s the Coruscant guard doing here?” Hunter thought out loud as he saw a group of red and white armoured clones walk past.

“Something strange is going on here. This doesn’t feel like a simulation.” You said.

Tech looked up from his datapad. “You are correct. This isn’t a drill.”

“Oh, man. What did we miss now?” Wrecker complained.

“The end of the war.” A shock trooper replied.

“Say again, trooper.” Hunter requested.

“General Grievous was defeated on Utapau. The Separatist leadership has collapsed. The war is over.”

“Just like I said.” Tech pointed out.

Wrecker gasped and sounded genuinely impressed. “It is just like you said!”

You weren’t so impressed. Kenobi- your friend- was probably dead now anyway. The end of the war did not feel right to you. Something was wrong and it wasn’t just the dead Jedi. As you were standing there, two regs carrying a stretcher passed you and a hand came free of its covering and a lightsaber fell out of its grasp. You took a step forward and stared at it and felt that cold feeling rush through your veins again.

“Is there a problem?” The shock trooper addressed you.

You tore your gaze from the weapon in his head and spoke calmy. “No problem.”

Hunter came beside you and brushed his fingers against yours. “We’ll just head to our barracks then.”

“Best hurry. There’s a mandatory general assembly at 1500.” The trooper informed you all as you walked away.

“It’s not just the clones on Kaller. All the regs are acting strange.” Hunter observed.

“Let’s test that theory.” Tech said before approaching an oncoming group of regs. “Excuse me, Trooper. What division are you from?”

“Step aside.” The clone responded roughly, elbowing Tech.

“Oh. Well, they seem the same to me.” Tech said frankly.

You gave him a small smile and patted his shoulder sympathetically as you walked past him.

“Ahh. Good to be back.” Wreaker said as you all entered the barracks.

“The smell’s getting worse.” You and Echo said in unison.

“You’re both still new. You’ll get used to it.” He said cheerfully enough, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Speak for yourself.” Crosshair said, pushing past the two of you.

“Well, I’ll get the board.” Wreaker pulled out his vibroknife and began adding to the tallies that were etched on the wall.

You took off the strap that had your weapon in it and laid it down on the table in the middle of the room and sat down next to Hunter. Your knees touched under the table.

“Eleven more successful missions. Ha! Like there was any doubt.” Wrecker said proudly before heading to his bunk.

“Kaller wasn’t a win.” Echo added.

“Says who? We completed our objective.” Wreaker argued.

“Not every objective.” Crosshair said.

You glanced at him suspiciously. Ever since Kaller, he had been acting strange.

“Those two let that Jedi kid escape.” He continued, pointing in your direction. “Or do you want to keep lying to us?”

You clenched your fists tightly to stop yourself from doing or saying something stupid.

Hunter stood up and walked towards the window. “I don’t like to think of executing our commanders as a mission objective.”

“An order is an order.” Crosshair stated.

“Since when?” You questioned as Hunter turned to face him.

Crosshair stared harshly between the two of you before Echo spoke up.

“None of this makes sense. Those clones served alongside General Billaba for years. How could they turn on her like that?” Echo said, a hint of anger coming through.

“Because of the regs programming.” Tech replied.

You looked at him. “Come again?”

“What programming?” Hunter asked.

“It’s been well documented that the Kaminoans inhibited the cognitive functions of clones to engineer them to follow orders without question.”

“Ha! We sure don’t!” Wrecker said smugly, pushing his Lula toy into Crosshair’s face who was having none of it and pushed against it.

“Obviously we are different.” Tech said. “They manipulated pre-existing aberrations in our DNA, resulting in your brute strength, Crosshair’s sharpshooting skills, Hunter’s enhanced senses and my exceptional mind. My guess is we are immune to the effects of the programming. Though I can’t be 100% certain of it.”

You stole a look at Crosshair who only narrowed his gaze at you. You looked away. “What about Echo? He was a reg before he joined you, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, if all regs were programmed, why didn’t I react like the others?” Echo asked.

“The damage you sustained on Skako Minor most likely wiped out all your present behavioural modifications. You are more machine than man… percentagewise, at least.” Tech answered.

Echo sighed. “Lucky me.”

You gave Echo a sympathetic smile before a PA announcer sounded. “All personnel report to the staging area for a briefing on the state of the Republic.”

You grabbed your weapon casing and jumped out of your seat and walked towards the door. You needed this briefing. Maybe after it you would finally be able to make sense of all that happened.

“This is one meeting I don’t want to miss.” Hunter said, following you.

“First time for everything.” Tech said before he and everyone else made their way out.

You were stunned by the image on the screen in front of you. Chancellor Palpatine had certainly had a rough time of it. His skin looked like it was about to fall off his face, it was scarred and damaged to the point where if you hadn’t been heard so many of his previous senate meetings, you might have struggled to recognise him. But what shocked you even more were the words that were coming out of his mouth.

“And the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated.”

Jedi rebellion? They wouldn’t have- they couldn’t- would they? No. You had your issues with them, but you couldn’t believe this. You felt sick to your stomach.

“The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger!”

You were too focused on the screen in front of you to notice Hunter glance up to the platform where the top Kaminoans were. With them he noticed someone he did not recognise.

“What is it?” Tech asked him.

He turned to him slightly but by the time he looked back up, the person was gone. “Nothing.” He replied. Then he felt a hard grip on his wrist, and he looked down to see your hand there before he looked back at you and saw that the colour had drained from your face.

“The Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire!”

“Galactic Empire?” Echo repeated quietly.

“For a safe and secure society.” Palpatine finished with a smile and applause rang through the assembly.

“Still don’t think the regs are programmed?” Tech pointed out.

You glanced around you; everyone was cheering in unison. Everyone was happy about this new reign. Everyone except the six of you. All this assembly did was confirm your suspicions. You couldn’t ever tell them what you were. Not only would that put you in danger, but it would put them in danger too. You had to do everything in your power to supress that part of you, you’d gotten good at it when you were on your own. You only started to embrace that part of you again when you joined this group. You had to do this, or you were screwed.

As you all walked down the corridor from the meeting, you were still trying to process what you had just witnessed.

“Galactic Empire? We’re soldiers of the Republic.” Echo said.

“Republic, Empire… What’s the difference?” Crosshair inserted.

You scoffed in disgust. “I can think of a few.”

“The systematic termination of the Jedi is a big one for me.” Tech responded.

“That being the main one.” You agreed.

Just then, Hunter held his hand up to stop you all. “We’ve got company.”

You all turned round and what greeted you left you quite surprised.

“Hello.” The young child said with a smile and wave.

“What’s that?” Wreaker asked, bending down.

“Adolescent human female. Origins… uncertain.” Tech replied.

“Or in layman’s terms, Tech, a young girl.” You said with smile and a roll of your eyes. You walked forward and kneeled down in front of her. “What’s your name?”

“My name’s Omega. I was wondering when you guys would come back.”

“You know who we are?” Hunter asked, nudging past Tech.

“Hunter, Echo, Tech, Wrecker, Crosshair and (Y/N).” She said looking back to you. “You’re Clone Force 99. Although-”

“Yeah, I know. I’m clearly not a clone but I helped these fellas out of some hot water, and they’ve needed me ever since.” You grinned up at Hunter who shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“Technically-”

“No, Tech. Everything I’ve said is true.” You turned back to him with a smirk.

Omega let out a small laugh.

“What are you doing on Kamino, kid?” Hunter asked.

“Her job, of course.” A smooth, calm voice answered for her.

You stood up and saw a female Kaminoan approach your group. “She is my medical assistant. One with a curious mind that causes her to wander. Come Omega, there is work to do.” She turned away and Omega followed her but not before giving you all one last wave.

You glanced at Hunter and the others and were pleased to see that they all looked just as confused as you were. In your time on Kamino and all that you knew about it, that was quite unexpected.

“This day keeps getting weirder and weirder.” Hunter said.

“Can’t disagree with you there.” You said.

You didn’t know if it was because you’d been living off rations for so long, but this canteen food was quite possibly the best food you’d tasted in a while. You were at what was now your usual table.

“Clones being programmed. Nothing controls me.” Wrecker said authoritatively, standing up at the table.

“Wrecker, it is a logical conclusion that your affinity for destruction would stem from your conditioning.” Tech explained.

“You take that back!”

“I am merely stating a scientific hypothesis based on factual data.”

“Well, I’ve got a fact for you. I like to blow things up because I like to blow things up!” He yelled, slamming his fists down on the table. “Got it?”

“Well, I’m convinced.” Crosshair sneered.

“Will you sit down.” You hissed, grabbing Wrecker’s arm, you didn’t want any more attention being drawn to you and the squad right now.

Hunter joined your table, sitting across from you. “An Imperial’s been sent to evaluate the clones. Everybody’s talking about it.”

“What kind of evaluation?” Echo inquired.

“Hopefully not mental. Clearly, we’d never pass that.” Tech said.

You couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at the looks on the others faces. Then another strange thing happened.

“Hello again.” Omega said as she sat down at the table next to Hunter.

You all just kind of stared at her.

“Omega. From earlier? In the corridor?”

You cleared your throat. “Sorry. Come on guys, back to basic human interactions please. Staring like this is just weird.”

Hunter spoke up. “Yeah, kid we remember. Don’t you have someplace to be?”

“No. I’ll stay.” She said before dipping into her food.

“You want to sit with us?” You asked sceptically.

“That’s never happened before.” Tech added.

“I like you. You don’t fit in around here either.” She said.

“What are you really doing here on Kamino, kid? Don’t you have a family somewhere? Parents?” Hunter asked.

“Parents?” She repeated, looking at him slightly puzzled.

“Check it out. The defects squad’s got themselves a new recruit. Another member added to the Sad Batch. Gotta say, I preferred it when they brought back the hot loner.”

Don’t be an idiot, don’t be idiot. You don’t want attention right now, you thought to yourself. So, you just joined the others in glaring at the two regs that walked past your table. You went back to focusing on your food, but you seemed to have lost your appetite now. Then all you heard was a squelch and you looked up to see Omega standing on the table, one roll in hand, the other seemed to have exploded all over the one reg’s neck and the side of his face.

“Who threw that?” He demanded angrily, eyes scanning the area.

“I did.” Omega said seriously. “Now apologise to my friends.”

“I like this kid!” Wrecker said.

“What did you say to me?” The reg pointed in her direction and began walking towards her.

“Whoa, whoah, whoa. Back off.” Hunter stood in front of him. “I suggest you keep moving.” He said firmly.

You and Wrecker both stood up behind Omega. You hoped this would be all you had to do.

“Know your place, lab scrapper.” The reg started to walk away but as he did so a bunch of food trays hit him.

You all turned to look at Wrecker who was holding two more trays. “Oops.”

You put your head in your hands. “Wrecker, did you have to?”

“That’s it.” The reg said heatedly.

“Oh yeah!” Wrecker shouted before throwing the trays, those ones hitting another reg straight in the face.

“So much for lack of attention”. You grumbled to yourself before landing a punch to a clone that was coming from your left.

A quick look around told you that everyone was doing just fine, even Omega was handling herself and Crosshair… well, he was just being Crosshair, eating his meal, not phased by what was happening around him. That was until a clone kicked Echo into his tray and his food went everywhere… then he got involved.

You came round the table to go to the clones near Tech, but a clone stood in front of you. “You’d be better off getting out the way. Save yourself the black eye and sore ribs.” You stated.

“I’ve got a better idea. Come back to my barracks. Save us both the fight. Unless you into that sorta thing.” He said with a smirk.

“I just threw up in my mouth.” You said with a disgusted scoff.

“Sorry, guess I just thought clones were your type or is it only the one’s with a higher military rank?” He jeered.

You glowered at him before darting forward and landing a punch to the right side of his face and a quick kick to the middle of his body sent him onto his back. He groaned. “Did try to warn you.” You said smugly.

You stepped over him and made your way to Tech. You both were able to easily deal with the few clones that came over but then you heard a crash. You turned to see Echo being tackled to the ground. You had to turn away quickly to push back another clone that had advanced towards you. As you did so you heard Tech call out.

“Echo, watch out!”

You looked and saw the reg bring down the metal tray straight on to Echo’s head and he slumped to the side. You ran over to the reg and pushed him away and knelt down by Echo. “He needs to go to the medical bay.”

Machines. That was all he could see. No, he couldn’t be back there. “No! Get them off!” Echo sat up quickly, pushing the scanners away.

“But my tests are not yet complete.” The small droid said calmly.

“Echo. Echo, it’s okay. It’s me. Omega.” She soothed, moving the droid to the side. “I understand. I don’t like being hooked up to their machines either.”

Echo looked at her and took another few breaths to calm himself down.

The droid spoke again. “Hello, CT-1409.”

“His name is Echo.” Omega pointed out.

“I am AZ-345211896246498721347. Your assigned medical droid.” The droid said with a spin of his body.

You walked through the medical bay doors alongside Hunter and were thrilled to see that Echo was awake.

“Ha told you he’s alive. You owe me two credits!” Wrecker said smugly to Crosshair who only shook his head.

“How you doing, Echo?” You asked.

“CT-1409’s condition is stable.” The droid answered. “But I have some distressing news for the four of you. According to your test results, you all appear to be genetically defective clones.”

The droid’s sincere and distraught tone meant you had to turn away to choke back your laughter.

“I will leave you to process the shock of this revelation.” He said gravely before going away.

“We’ve got a problem.” Echo announced.

“Not really. We’re more deviant than we are defective.” Tech interjected.

You studied Echo’s face, and you could tell whatever he had to say had nothing to do with any medical information. “You’re not talking about that are you?”

Echo nodded. “Admiral Tarkin’s here. He’s the one evaluating the clones.”

You scoffed in disgust which caused the others to stare at you.

“How would you know anything about him?” Crosshair asked.

“Uh… I had a life before you guys you know. I heard rumours.” You said quickly. You couldn’t tell them the reason you knew he was kind of an asshole was because of your time in the Jedi Order where you had argued with him as he helped the Order ruin the life of your friend. It didn’t surprise you that he was already an important person in this new Empire. He was definitely someone you needed to avoid, if there was even the slightest chance he recognised you, you all were fucked, and you couldn’t have that.

“This is the same Tarkin form the Citadel rescue when you, uh… How shall I put this?” Tech paused.

“Blew up.” Wrecker finished the sentence.

“And turned into that.” Crosshair added, taking his toothpick out his mouth.

“Way to be sensitive guys.” You said with a shake of your head.

Echo sighed. “Yes, and he’s not a big supporter of clones.”

“We’ll soon find out. We’ve been summoned by the prime minister.” Hunter said, crossing his arms.

“Guess he didn’t find that mess hall fight amusing. But I sure did.” Wrecker said.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with.” Hunter said.

You all made your way to go but Omega called after you. “Wait!” She darted in front of doorway. “The fight was my fault. I’m going too.” She said determinedly.

“Not happening. We’ll handle this.” Hunter said firmly before walking past her.

“But I-”

“Listen, kid.” Hunter turned sharply to look at her. “Our squad’s nothing but trouble. For your sake, keep your distance. Got it?”

Your heart went out to her as you watched Hunter walk away. “He was a little harsh, but he’s right. I love them all, but we tend to end up in tight spots and as you’ve seen, we’re not the most popular group there is. I’m sure we’ll see you around though.” You placed a hand on her shoulder before walking out the door to join Hunter and the others as they waited for you.

You began walking towards the prime minister’s office but as you were walking a shock trooper addressed you harshly. “Where do you think you’re going? The training facility is that way.”

You all turned to look at the trooper.

“Training facility?” Hunter asked.

“For a battle simulation. Admiral Tarkin has requested to see more of your squad in action.”

“Then we’re not being reprimanded?” Tech questioned.

“No, you’re being tested.” The clone answered severely.

I sure as hell am not, you thought to yourself, this was the last thing you needed. “Well, you guys enjoy that. I’m just going to head back to the barracks. Good luck, sure you’ll do great.” You said casually with a click of your fingers. You slowly etched your way out the group and began to walk past Hunter and the shock trooper. As you did so, the trooper grabbed your arm.

“That includes you.”

Hunter reached his hand out and he felt the others behind him take a step forward, but he caught himself just in time and waved them back. He was sure you could handle this yourself plus he didn’t want to get his squad into any more trouble.

You looked down at the grip the clone had on your forearm and looked into his helmet, an unimpressed expression on your face. “Is this not part of the clone evaluation?” You asked him.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re an observant fellow and those eyes of yours can see that I’m obviously not a clone.” You removed yourself from his grasp. “So, I’ll not be participating in Admiral Tarkin’s evaluation.”

“He requested your presence too. As far as he’s concerned, you’re an equal part of this squad so that means you’re being evaluated too.”

Shit, you thought to yourself. You could only hope enough time had passed and the hood and mask would be enough that he wouldn’t recognise you. You made your way back into the group, ignoring many of their quizzical stares.

“Now, go gear up.” The shock trooper ordered.

“So, we’re not in trouble, and they want us to fight more? Ha! Maybe this Empire thing’s not so bad after all.” Wrecker said merrily.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” You muttered as you headed to the training facility.

As the lift to the training facility began to rise, you kept adjusting your ensemble. You couldn’t afford any slip ups when you were doing this.

“It’s fine.” Echo muttered to you.

You glanced at him but before you could say anything else, you all were in the facility, and you kept your head down whilst Tarkin spoke to you all from the observation area where the prime minister was too. His suave voice echoed around the room. “The value of all clone troopers and other personnel…”

You didn’t need to lift your head; you could feel him looking at you.

“Is being challenge by the Empire. To demonstrate your effectiveness, a combat-proficiency test is in order. Take your positions.” He finished speaking.

“We’ve done these a thousand times, guys. You know what to do.” Hunter stated before putting on his helmet.

“A battle simulation? Give us a real challenge.” Wrecker voiced through his helmet before you all broke off into your positions.

You crouched behind one of the barriers that had Tech and Wrecker behind them too, whilst the other 3 took up their positions on the opposite one.

You waited a few moments before you heard the whirring of the training droids, and the towers came online and fired down on you. You knew Crosshair would be sent to the towers and sure enough, you saw him make his way over to them. You didn’t have a blaster, but you did have another vibroblade strapped to your thigh, so you took that out and threw it at one of the droids. It implanted itself deep within the face of the droid and it collapsed to the floor. You noticed a few more fall too as the other’s shots met their targets.

As Crosshair took the towers down, Hunter signalled you all to move in. You ran out from behind the barrier and drew your modified vibro-weapon. You picked your knife up from the fallen droid and dodged a few of the shots headed your way, managing to cut down a couple more before you took shelter behind another barrier. You couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated, if you could use your ‘special’ skillset effectively this could all be over so much quicker.

You peered out from behind it to see Wrecker doing exactly what you wished you could do: just taking on all the droids. You made eye-contact with Tech who only rolled his eyes. To be honest you were grateful for Wrecker’s antics at this point, you needed this to be over. Plus, it was enjoyable to watch him get so much fun out of a drill like this.

“What else you go? Gimme more!” Wrecker shouted up to the watch platform.

Admiral Tarkin thought this had been over much too quickly. This group hadn’t been tested nearly enough. “If the Galactic Empire is to be stronger than the Republic which preceded it, it’s soldiers must follow suit. Switch to live fire.”

The prime minister didn’t like that idea one bit. “Admiral Tarkin, I must protest. I don’t care so much about the woman, but live rounds could damage my clones and my facility.”

“For which you will be fairly compensated. Do it!”

The prime minister reluctantly nodded towards the Kaminoans at the control panel.

You had been studying their interaction, something didn’t look right. You attention was brought back to the current situation as new, more advanced droids appeared in the area in front of you. This combined with what you had just seen above you didn’t look good. “Wrecker, hold on a minute!” You called out as he began running towards them. His shots were useless, even his brute strength didn’t have an effect.

Then it all went to hell.

You watched as the droids used live rounds, one of them hitting Wrecker. You darted out quickly, managing to cut the arms off the first droid. You ran over and grabbed Wrecker’s right arm. “You alright?”

“I felt that one.” Wrecker said, his voice straining slightly.

Tech had dashed out to grab his other arm so together the two of you were able to scurry behind the barrier before the other droid’s blaster fire made contact with you.

You sat helplessly whilst blaster fire surrounded you. Why was it the one time you actually needed to use the abilities you had the one time where you absolutely could not. If it got bad enough, you might have to anyway. You knew where that would leave you, but what about the others? A whistle brought you out of your head and you looked over to see Hunter giving the three of you hand signals.

“Oh! I hate hand signals!” Wrecker complained.

“They’re not too difficult to understand Wrecker once you know them.” You said, taking your knife back out and throwing it into the arm of one of the other droids. It didn’t do much to stop it, it just focused its attention on you causing you to duck quickly.

“Perhaps if you memorised them.” Tech suggested.

“Why don’t you memorise them?” Wrecker snipped back.

“We have.” You and Tech said at the same time.

“What we did on Felucia.” Tech clarified.

You jumped out from behind the small wall, jumping over the head of the droid that had your smaller vibro-blade in it, grabbing it as you did so. You knew that was foolish but if you needed to, you could talk your way out of it. You’d done it before.

You distracted the droids to allow Wrecker the time to move in. You slid on your knees, avoiding the blaster fire, and sliced through the legs of one of the droids. As it fell, you stabbed your weapon through the head of it, rendering it useless. Great, two down, lots more to go, you thought. You felt a blaster bolt whizz past your head as you ran quickly to where Hunter and Crosshair were taking cover. “How do you think we’re doing?”

“Could be better.” Hunter replied.

You saw that Tech was in the middle of reprogramming the droid. If all went according to plan, the playing-field should even out shortly.

Admiral Tarkin watched this display with intrigue. “These are rather unusual tactics.”

“The clones of experimental Unit 99 have a tendency to veer from standard combat protocol. Something that the woman who is a part of their group has also embraced.” The prime minister explained.

Tarkin peered down at you. There was something about you that didn’t quite sit right with him, and he needed to know what it was.

Oh, thank fuck, you thought. Tech had successfully reprogrammed the droid so now your life was simpler. With Tech taking down most of the advancing droids, the rest of you were able to finish the ones that remained. Everything seemed to be going fine… right up until it wasn’t. Tech had already started to struggle keeping the connection with the droid he was controlling and to make matters worse, a last droid appeared at the top of the training facility and fired at Tech’s droid. He fell to the ground.

“Tech!” You cried out. You saw Hunter throw his vibroblade into its arm and you used that to run up to it to stop it from continuing its fire in Tech’s direction but you severely under-estimated how fast it would react. Before you could use your weapon, it landed a kick to the centre of your chest that sent you flying backwards. You collided into Hunter, who quickly got to his feet and grabbed you. The two of you scrambled to get to cover. You leant back against the barrier and Hunter kneeled in front of you. “Sorry about that.” You said sheepishly, trying to get the air back into your lungs. “That was really dumb.”

“Are you okay?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m sure I’m supposed to feel like my entire chest has just caved in on itself.” You said with a laugh.

Hunter sighed, hoping you couldn’t pick up on the extent of the relief he felt. He looked away from you. “Crosshair, we need more cover fire!”

You looked to see how Tech was. He was still on the ground and that droid wasn’t stopping its assault. You needed one of them to come up with something quick or you really wouldn’t have much of a choice. If you had to die in order to save your squad, then you’d do that but at the same time you really hoped there would be another option. Crosshair’s voice then sounded.

“Wrecker, knife!”

You watched as Wrecker threw his knife into the air and Crosshair’s shot hit it perfectly. It spun in the air and hit the middle of the droid’s head, deactivating it. Out of all the shots you’d seen him do, that was by far the most impressive. You rested the back of your head against the block in relief. Your secret was able to stay a secret still.

“Here.”

You looked to see Hunter holding his hand out to you. Calm yourself down and just take the hand like a normal human being. Nice and casual, you reminded yourself. You took it and let him bring you to your feet. “Thanks.”

Hunter wanted nothing more than to keep that feeling of your hand in his for as long as possible, but he knew this wasn’t the place or time. Not to mention, you probably didn’t view it in the same light he did. He let your hand go once you were on your feet. “Nice work.” He directed to Crosshair.

You had made your way over to Tech and helped him to his feet. You glanced up at the observation platform to see Tarkin walking away. Please let that be the last I see of him, you thought.

Omega looked at the man who was studying the birthing pods and she felt a sense of unease.

“Extraordinary. Aren’t they?” The head scientist Nala Se said.

“That remains to be seen. Tell me about Clone Force 99.” Tarkin requested.

“They are medically defective clones whose cellular mutations enhanced traits desirable in a soldier.” Nala Se responded.

“And the woman who is with them?”

Lama Su told him your name before continuing with explaining your background. “She came back to Kamino with them the last time the clones were here. According to them, she assisted them on a mission, and they offered her a place on the squad. As far as I’m aware, she’s been with them ever since. Her tendency to stray from the normal rules also means she fits in well.” The prime minister replied.

Tarkin thought for a few moments, but your name didn’t ring any bells with him unfortunately. “Where did she come from?”

“They met her on Devaron. As to her original origin, I do not know.”

Tarkin pondered this before continuing. “How many of these enhanced clones do you possess?”

“Five are all that remain.” Nala Se answered.

“They could be an asset to your new Empire. Their female included, she’s bonded with them in a way I’ve not seen their fellow clones do.” The prime minister added.

“Yet reports indicate they exhibit a concerning level of disobedience and disregard for orders.” Tarkin countered.

“A side effect of their mutation.” Nale Se explained.

“Yet one that has never hindered the completion of their missions.” The prime minister inserted.

“Then they executed Order 66?” Tarkin asked.

“Since both the Jedi General and Padawan on Kaller were eliminated, one would assume-”

“Assume nothing.” Tarkin interrupted the Kaminoan prime minister. “Only the general’s death is confirmed. A counter-report filed by one of their own, says the Padawan escaped. Let us see where the loyalty of these clones and their friend truly lies.” Tarkin said before leaving the room.

Omega watched as he left. She didn’t like him, and she worried about what he had in store for all of you.

You removed your mask and hood as you entered the barracks and sat down at the table, head in your hands. What the fuck was that evaluation? Live rounds? What the hell? Apparently, Wrecker shared your unhappiness.

“Live rounds? They used live rounds! On us!” He said, throwing his helmet on the table.

“We were there, Wrecker. We know.” Tech replied.

“I tried to warn you about Tarkin.” Echo added.

“Yup. Major Dickhead.” You concurred.

“Who’s that Imperial snake think he is?” Wrecker voiced angrily.

“Stow it already. You got shot. It happens all the time.” Crosshair said coldly.

You stared at Crosshair and made eye-contact with Hunter who nodded back at you. Good, at least I’m not the only one who has noticed this, you thought.

“There’s a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used for target practice.” Tech refuted.

“Exactly! We’re not dummy droids.” Wrecker agreed, looking at Crosshair.

“That much we agree on.”

Shit. You quickly put your hood and mask up and went to stand next to Crosshair as Admiral Tarkin entered the room. You felt Echo and Hunter’s eyes on you as you did that, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t exactly avoid him now so this was the closest you could get.

“That was quite an impressive display.” Tarkin said, walking down the middle on the line.

“Didn’t have much of a choice.” Hunter answered.

“Our new empire may have methods which seem a bit unorthodox but so does is this squadron. Particularly your presence here, (Y/N), is it?”

“Yes.” You said quietly, avoiding eye-contact. You felt his cold hands through your mask as they placed themselves on your chin, angling your face up to look at him. You resisted the instinct to tear his hand away and send him crashing into the barrack wall.

Hunter had to fight the urge to pull his hand off of you, but he noticed your left hand moving. The signal was clear, you were fine. He looked to the others who were all frowning in Tarkin’s direction, well, all except Crosshair who kept his expression neutral, and shook his head to stop any of them from saying anything.

“Your choice of weapon is rather unusual. How did you come by such a device?” Tarkin asked you.

“I made it myself. Gathered a bunch of vibroblades together.” You replied.

“And no blaster?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like them.” You answered simply.

Tarkin paused. In all his time in military command, he’d never come across an ordinary soldier who didn’t fight with a blaster by choice. Only the- no that couldn’t be possible. He continued his questioning. “You weren’t a part of this squad in the beginning.” Tarkin stated.

“That’s correct.” You answered curtly.

“Yet they allowed you to join them after only knowing you for a brief amount of time.”

“I made a good impression.” You said coolly.

“Clearly. Tell me, your military and fighting background, what was it?”

“Self-taught.” You lied smoothly.

“I doubt that. A person of your skill had to have received training from somewhere.”

“I pick up quickly, working with this squad helped me figure a few things out.” You replied easily.

You were good. He had to hand it to you, but his suspicions were not yet quashed. Your voice and eyes felt familiar to him. There was only one way he’d know if he was right or not. “Take of your mask.” Tarkin ordered.

You felt your heartbeat start pounding in your ears. “No.”

“That’s an order.”

“Not one I’ll be following and if you try anything, you’ll end up in the medical bay.” You said defiantly.

Tarkin narrowed his gaze at you but before he could say anything, a clone voice grabbed his attention.

“You got a mission for us sir?” Hunter asked, wanting Tarkin’s attention to be away from you.

“Indeed.” Tarkin responded, releasing his grip on you, until either you slipped up or he had further information he would just have to wait. There was a larger issue at hand here. He walked to face the clone who spoke to him. “We have tracked a group of insurgents to the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with.”

You took a shaky breath as he turned away from you. That was too fucking close.

“What sort of insurgents?” Echo asked.

“Separatist forces intent on keeping the galaxy at war. If you neutralize this grave threat, you will be looked upon most favourably as I assess the needs of the Imperial army.” He informed you all before walking out of the room.

You felt all the eyes in the room turn to look at you. “Problem?” You asked casually.

“What was that all about?” Wrecker asked.

“What?” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.

“If you were trying to get yourself thrown in the brig, that was an excellent way to go about it.” Tech added.

“I wasn’t trying to- I didn’t- I-” You broke off with a sigh.

“What’s going on?” Hunter asked you, his tone softer than what it usually was, as he moved to stand in front of you and laid a hand on your shoulder.

You looked into his eyes. You hated this. You wanted nothing more than to tell him- to tell all of them- what you were but you couldn’t, the time where you could safely tell them was gone and now it was killing you inside, way worse than it was before. “Nothing.” You shuffled away from him. “Come on, we got a mission to get on with.” You left the room quickly and walked down the corridor to the ship.

Echo and the others came to stand by Hunter who had watched you go. “She’s been acting strangely. Have you noticed?”

“Of course, I have. She’s been different since the mission at Kaller.” Hunter agreed.

“I too have observed several alterations in her behaviour since landing here.” Tech added.

“Do we think she’s okay?” Wrecker asked.

“Why are we talking about this? She’s right, we have a mission to be getting on with.” Crosshair frostily.

Hunter glared at him. “Since when don’t you care?”

“Never said I didn’t but I think we all know why you do.” Crosshair replied. “I’m just focused on the mission as we all should be. Certain feelings should be pushed aside.”

Hunter turned away from him. He wouldn’t have this conversation again. “Come on, let’s go.” He could only hope there would be a moment where you would feel comfortable enough to tell him what you were going through.

You were sitting on the steps leading into the ship after Tech and Echo arrived, trying to push your anxiety and self-loathing away but to no avail. All that had happened had overthrown any denial you were able to hold on to.

You couldn’t convince yourself otherwise; your entire relationship with them had started with a lie.

You had lied about the biggest part of your life to your team. No matter how you acted around them, no matter how much of it was genuine, your lie remained, and that lie was going to have to stay a part of you forever and you couldn’t do it anymore. This part of you would either kill you or them and you cared too much to see that happen to them. After this mission, you would leave them, as much as that hurt you to decide, you knew it was the only way out. You’d been on your own before, you could do it again. You stood up and walked over to Echo who was staring at the datapad. “Find any more intel on the insurgents?”

Echo looked up from the screen. “Negative. Imperial files are locked down tight.”

“That’s annoying. Maybe Tech-”

“Yes, give me time. I’ll crack them.”

You turned to see Tech walking down the steps. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

“I’ll say this for the Empire. They know fire power. You should see the new armoury.” Wrecker announced as he and Crosshair came over with what you assumed was a box filled with explosives.

“That impressive huh?” You asked.

“He actually cried.” Crosshair revealed.

“Hey, we both did.” Wrecker protested.

You let out a small laugh. That was the Crosshair you’d been familiar with, the one you’d seen glimpses of earlier was unknown to you, but it was good to see that he seemed his usual self.

“There’s no room on board for that.” Tech said.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll make room.” He sighed happily as he made went to pick up the container. “A new mission and unlimited explosives. Things are back to normal.”

“That’s not going near my rack.” Tech objected as he followed Wrecker on to the ship. “I refuse to sleep by a projectile again.”

You smiled fondly as you watched them go on board. You were going to miss that. “Hey.” You lightly grabbed Crosshair’s arm as he walked past you. “Where’s Hunter?”

Crosshair looked past you. “There.”

You turned to see Hunter walking through the doors.

Hunter noticed you looking over at him. He knew you shouldn’t affect him this way, in fact his life would be a lot simpler if you didn’t, but he couldn’t help it. Within two months of you joining his squad, you had grown to become a key part of him, and he couldn’t stop it, not even if he wanted to and right now, whatever was happening with you, was driving him crazy. He wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how, and he couldn’t know how until he knew what was bothering you which you clearly didn’t want to tell him or anyone else for that matter. A familiar voice brought him back to the current moment.

“Hunter!”

He sighed and turned to see Omega running to catch up to him. “I told you to keep your distance.”

“I know, but I need to talk to you.” She said.

He kneeled down in front of her. “Alright. What is it?”

“That Imperial officer, I think he has it out for you. I overheard him talking to Lama Su. He doesn’t like clones or (Y/N).”

Hunter let out a chuckle. “Ah, that’s nothing new for us. But we get the job done and (Y/N) has already made it clear to him she could handle any trouble he throws her way.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“A mission’s a mission. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Then let me come with you.” Omega pleaded.

“Kid, you’re not a soldier. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s dangerous here too. Things aren’t like before. We need to leave Kamino.”

From the distance, Hunter heard Wrecker calling for him. They were ready to go. “Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.” He stood up and began to walk away.

“Hunter.” Omega called quietly after him.

He turned to face her.

“Um, never mind.”

He carried on walking to the ship.

You stood next to Crosshair as Hunter approached. “She okay?”

“Ah, something about her I can’t figure out.”

“Well, she’s a kid, they’re not supposed to be easy to figure out. Hell, most adults aren’t.” You patted his shoulder before going on board the ship.

I’ll say, Hunter thought to himself as he watched you climb the steps.

“Well, I guess kids aren’t quite your area of expertise either.” Crosshair added before he followed you up.

Omega watched Hunter board the ship and watched as it flew away. She hoped they would be okay.

“Omega, come along. I told you to stay close.” Lama Se beckoned.

Omega turned away to follow her out the docking bay.

The ship landed in the Onderonean jungle, and you all left the ship, helmets, and masks on, hoods up. You could hear the sounds of many creatures roaring in the distance.

“What was that?” Echo asked.

“You don’t want to know.” Tech replied bluntly.

“Well, at least it’s not a swamp.” You added brightly.

“Close enough.” Crosshair griped.

“The Separatist encampment’s two clicks south. We’ll continue on foot and do a full perimeter scan.” Hunter ordered. He stopped Wrecker as he went to run past him. “Covertly.”

“Oh, come on. It’s been days since I’ve blown something up.” Wrecker moaned.

“Easy, Wrecker. Your programming’s kicking in.” Tech pointed out.

“Hey, don’t start with that!” Wrecker said before knocking Tech in front of him.

You smiled to yourself and shook your head at Tech. “Was that really necessary?”

“I was merely pointing out-”

“I know, I know.” You said with a laugh. “Come on, you’re the man with the scanner, lead the way.”

The rest of you followed behind Tech as he scanned the jungle area.

“How many droids we talking about, Tech?” Hunter asked.

“I can’t tell from this distance. Something’s blocking my scan.” Tech replied, hitting the side of the datapad.

“Clankers always travel together in packs. Let’s get a closer look at what we’re walking into.” Hunter said.

You all climbed up one of the large trees and laid down flat.

“Tell me what you see, Tech.” Hunter directed.

“I’m clocking twenty-five heat signatures ahead but zero droids.” Tech answered.

“Tarkin said insurgents, not droids.” Crosshair said.

“I’m not sure they’re either.” You pointed out as you peered through your macrobinoculars. You passed them over to Echo.

“She’s right. There are children down there.” Echo stated.

“Children? Out here?” Hunter said, confusion in his voice. He grabbed the binoculars from Echo and sat up as he looked through them.

You sat up and looked at him. “Something’s not right, Hunter.” You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“What are you waiting for? Give the order.” Crosshair instructed, the scope of his rifle focusing in on one of the people.

“Negative. Stand down.” Hunter ordered.

“What?” Crosshair responded.

“You mean, we’re not blasting any droids?” Wrecker asked.

“There aren’t any droids, Wrecker.” You replied. You felt the like there were many sets of eyes on you.

“Well, so what do we do?” Wrecker asked.

“We finish the mission.” Crosshair answered. “Make the call, Hunter.”

“We’re not alone. Now stand down.” Hunter commanded.

Just as he did so, a group of who you guessed were the so called ‘insurgents’, surrounded you all. You drew your weapon and kept your eyes on them.

“Let’s hear them out.” Hunter pushed your sword down. “Trust me.”

You looked at him and nodded. You followed his lead and put your hands behind your head, as did the others, but you noticed that Crosshair hadn’t yet done so. “Crosshair.” You hissed.

Crosshair only let out an incredibly irritated sigh before he lowered his rifle and raised his hands.

Before you began the walk down to the camp, the troops came and took some of the equipment you all were carrying, including the helmets. One of the soldiers took your hood and mask down. You went to quickly push them back up, but he held his gun up at you.

“Don’t.” He said sternly.

“Hey, easy with that.” Hunter said to the soldier, turning back to look at you.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry.” You said calmly, lowering your hands slowly. The others had their helmets taken so you would have to make do too. “I’ll leave it down.” Please let there be no one here who could possibly recognise me, you thought.

The sight which greeted you left you lost for words. Aside from a few soldiers, most of the people at the camp were ordinary civilians, not a weapon or threat amongst them. What had Tarkin been talking about?

“These aren’t Separatists. They’re Republic fighters.” Echo said.

“Why would Tarkin send us to attack our own forces?” Tech asked Hunter.

“Because we refuse to fight for an Empire.”

Oh, of course. It would truly be too much to ask that you could go an entire day without the threat of being recognised. That voice belonged to Saw Gerrera and you’d only helped him utilise some more of his forces after Obi Wan, Rex, Anakin and Ahsoka had assisted him earlier in the war. You stepped behind Wrecker, hoping his size would shield you a little bit. He turned back and glanced down at you, but you just shook your head gestured for him to turn back around.

“You’re Saw Gerrera. Trained by Captain Rex and General Skywalker to fight for the Republic.” Tech stated.

Hunter watched as the man stepped towards him and took his blaster out it’s holster.

“So, the newly declared Empire sent you to wipe us out?” Saw said, turning away from the clone in front of him.

“Well, we’re here to neutralise a group of insurgents.” Hunter explained.

Gererra chuckled and turned to face him. “Well… here we are. What are you going to do? Strike us down like you did the Jedi?”

Your blood ran cold as he said that. The images in your head so vivid it was like you were back on Kaller.

“Is that a request?” Crosshair sneered.

“Enough.” Hunter said firmly. “We expected to find battle droids, not-”

“Civilians? Times change, targets change.” Saw interrupted. “Why don’t you take a look at the insurgents you were sent to destroy.”

Hunter studied at the group in front of him, they looked worried and afraid. These people weren’t a threat that needed to be taken out.

“Makes you wonder what else they’re lying about.” Saw said before turning to address his group. “Let’s mobilise. Pack up the camp.”

Hunter took a few steps towards Saw. He glanced back to see the others following but you weren’t where you had been standing when you first arrived. Wrecker coughed and tilted his head back. He then noticed your silhouette behind him. He turned back to face Saw. “What’s going on here? Who are these people?”

Saw stood up and responded to the clone. “Villagers, croppers, former Republic fighters, all now displaced refugees since Palpatine unjustly appointed himself Emperor.”

“According to reports, the Jedi made an attempt on the Supreme Chancellor’s life. His actions were a defensive measure.” Tech said.

You couldn’t help but scoff.

Saw paused. “You boys got yourself someone else?”

Stupid. Dumb. Idiot. Shit. Fuck. You could’ve kept thinking about all the words that described the stupidity of your actions, but you knew you would have to move out from behind Wrecker anyway, so you stepped out and as soon as you did so, you saw the flash of recognition in Saw’s eyes. You reached out quickly. Please don’t. They don’t know. I’ve been with them for a while and now more than ever they can’t know. Telling them puts them in danger and I can’t have that. Please.

Hunter looked between you and Saw. You had that same intensity in your eyes that you did on Kaller before the padawan jumped.

You let out a sigh of relief as he gave you the tiniest nod of his head. Again, you ignored the side-eye the others were giving you.

Saw looked away from you and back to the clone with the goggles. “And I figured you for the smart one. With the Jedi decimated and the clone army under his command, Palpatine will have control over the entire galaxy. Unless we stop him.”

“The war is over.” Crosshair said.

“If we give up now, everything we fought for… everyone we lost, will have been for nothing. I won’t let that happen. The Clone War may have ended but a civil war is about to begin.”

You didn’t know what to make of this. You weren’t keen on the idea of this new Empire, but you didn’t like the war either, too many people got caught in the crossfire, too many people got hurt but this regime would probably do just as much damage. You couldn’t remember the last time there had been peace in the galaxy.

“With a handful of fighters and limited firepower? You don’t stand a chance.” Hunter said straightforwardly.

“Not alone we don’t.” Saw insisted.

“We should leave if we’re gonna make the rendezvous.” A soldier informed Gerrera. “What do we do with them?”

Saw paused and looked at the group in front of him. “The clones and others.” He paused slightly and looked in your direction, but he saw your gaze quickly drop down. He continued. “Once helped us free Onderon, so we’ll give them a choice. The old ways are done.” He pointed the clone’s blaster at him.

You took a slight step forward just in case.

“You can either adapt and survive, or die with the past.” Saw carried on as he turned the blaster around before he handed it back to him. “The decision is yours.” He finished before turning of the lamp and walking into the jungle with the rest of his squad.

You watched him as he walked away, and you reached out one last time. Thank you. You saw him stop for a brief second before continuing to walk on. You put your hood and mask back on and waited for Wrecker to gather the gear. You stood next to Hunter and pulled on his arm but just as the two of you were about to walk away, you both stopped. You made sure to stop a second after he did. You had that suspicious feeling again and you knew Hunter did too but neither of you could see anything. You glanced at him, but he just gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, you knew that meant he wasn’t sure what it was. You both turned to go, unaware of the probe droid in the treeline.

“At least with the Republic we knew where we stood. Tarkin and this Empire are a whole different story.” Tech stated as you all made your way back to the ship.

“Why are we debating this? We need to complete the mission.” Crosshair said.

You turned around sharply to stare at him. “Wake up Crosshair. They sent us to eliminate innocent civilians.”

“Who said they’re innocent?” Crosshair replied, holding your stare.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hunter said frustratedly, turning back to face Crosshair.

“Me? What about her display back there? That didn’t strike you as unusual?” Crosshair snarled, turning to look at you.

You avoided Hunter’s gaze as his eyes flicked towards you. “You don’t know what you’re talking about Crosshair.”

“Technically he’s referring to-”

“Not now, Tech.” You interrupted quickly.

“That aside.” Crosshair continued. “I’m following orders.”

“Exactly.” Hunter countered, taking a few steps towards him.

“Those insurgents are plotting against the Emperor.”

“Are you serious? Why does that matter? This Emperor isn’t providing safety or security, him and this regime are going to crush people and tear them apart. There’ll never be an end to the conflict that people have had to deal with for so long.” You said angrily.

Crosshair only glared at you before looking back at Hunter. “If you don’t have the stomach to do what needs to be done, then you’re not fit to lead this squad.”

You watched as the two of them stared each other down before that recognisable feeling of being watched returned to you. “Hunter, I think-” You didn’t need to finish your sentence, since Hunter had already drawn his blaster and fired it past Crosshair’s head. You looked to see a probe droid crash to the ground.

“We’re being followed.” Hunter said before brushing past Crosshair.

You all followed him towards the site where the droid fell.

“That is a probe droid.” Tech explained.

“Oh, joy.” You said sarcastically.

“Tarkin’s spying on us now?” Wrecker asked.

“The Jedi never did that.” Echo added.

“Not that you know of.” Crosshair refuted.

“No, they didn’t.” You argued, immediately regretting it. What was your problem? Were you trying to get yourself killed? Clearly you were suffering from an ill-timed case of word vomit. For months, no for years, you were able to keep this secret why all of a sudden was every word that came out of your mouth one that could lead into it. You glanced around the group; everyone was staring at you. Perfect.

“How would you know?” Tech asked.

“Um, you know, I hear things and from what I’ve heard, the Jedi were pretty stand-up guys.” Maker, what the fuck did you sound like? Never in your life would you have described the Jedi, or anyone for that matter, this way.

While he desperately wanted to know what was going on with you, he also wanted to save you from any more awkwardness. “Omega.”

“What about her?” Echo asked, turning his eyes from you to look back at Hunter.

You huffed out a breath and nodded a thank you as Hunter walked past you, before following him back to the ship.

“She warned me about the mission. And Tarkin.” Hunter replied. “She said not to return to Kamino, that it’s not safe for us anymore.”

Wrecker grunted. “Maybe she’s right.”

“We’re taking the word of a child now?” Crosshair asked stonily.

“I would not discount Omega’s insight. A state of heightened awareness is not unusual for an enhanced clone such as herself.” Tech said simply, looking up from his datapad.

You angled your head to face Tech as he leaned against the ship’s doorway. “She’s a what now?”

Wrecker just laughed. “Good one Tech, you almost had me.” He joined you on the steps of the ship.

“When Nala Se spoke of five clones, Tarkin assumed that meant us, but Echo’s a reg. The fifth is Omega. I confirmed my suspicions after analysing her DNA while we were in the infirmary.” Tech explained.

“And you waited until now to mention it?” Echo asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“Well, I thought it was obvious.” Tech replied plainly.

“Hey, Tech, here’s an idea. If it seems obvious to you, it’s probably not to the rest of us. These are things that are good to know well in advance.” You said with a shake of your head, standing up and joining him in the doorway.

“We’re going back for her.” Hunter said, turning away from the jungle.

Crosshair stepped in front of him. “Disobeying orders again over a kid? Bad play, Hunter.” He pushed a finger into his chest.

Hunter just pushed his hand aside and stepped past him. “She’s one of us. We’ve added a new member before, and it worked out.” He said, glancing at you.

You met his stare, but you couldn’t help but feel the guilt of what you were doing come crashing through you.

“We’re not leaving her there.” Hunter continued before stepping past you and into the ship.

Lost in thought, you stared out the ship window, your eyes following the droplets of rainwater as they slowly trickled down. You found yourself picking two beads of water and waiting to see which one would reach the bottom first. It was funny, you knew of Kamino’s climate before coming here and the times you had the weather had always been the same, dark, and stormy, yet you were always surprised to see it be that way. You couldn’t imagine anything good was waiting for you all once you landed but you knew Hunter was right, Omega had to leave with you all. Tech’s voice took your attention away from the trickling water.

“I’m getting no response from com-scan.”

“That’s unusual.” You said quizzically.

“Indeed.” Tech replied.

“Bring us in. We’ll find out what’s going on.” Hunter directed.

Before you stepped out from the ship, you drew your hood and mask back up- to protect you from the harsh weather more than anything else right now. You all walked towards the- now sealed- bay doors but before you all entered, Hunter spoke. “Stick to the plan. Split up, find Omega, meet back here at the ship.”

You nodded and walked over to open the door and you weren’t comforted by what greeted you. The bay was encased in darkness, the usual hustle wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The eeriness of it made your skin crawl. You stepped forward but before you could make it very far, shock troopers came out, blasters drawn, and your group was surrounded in an instant.

“As expected.” Crosshair sniped.

“Shut up, Crosshair.” You hissed back. You looked over to see Admiral Tarkin make his way over to Hunter. Dammit. Your mask and hood would be useless now, that probe droid would’ve caught you without it. You could only wait with bated breath and hope that time and Tarkin’s general distaste for the Jedi would have meant he still wouldn’t recognise you.

“The Empire does not tolerate failure, Sergeant.” Tarkin said, his displeasure evident.

“There were… complications.” Hunter replied.

“Yes, the probe droid’s report was quite detailed. Conspiring with Saw Gerrera. And you made your position quite clear.” Tarkin said, directing his gaze at you.

At least he didn’t recognise you. You’d be dead already if he had, you thought before replying, “Yeah, that position being I’m not a fan of a system or an Emperor that likes to go after innocent civilians. Not to mention, some of his employees are assholes. Oh, sorry, that’s a big generalisation, I meant at least one of them is.” You responded, glaring at him.

Tarkin did his best to maintain his composure. The probe droid had managed to send an image of your face and he was annoyed to admit that your profile meant nothing to him but this attitude of yours was becoming a problem and it would have to be dealt with. He nodded to the shock trooper closest to you and smirked as the butt of his blaster made contact with your cheek and then your stomach.

You grunted and kneeled down in pain. “Make that two employees. That feel good?” You panted, looking back at Tarkin. You took Echo’s outstretched hand and stood up, taking a few deep breaths to get air back into your lungs.

“Quite. You would do better to learn your place.” Tarkin answered.

“You need to stop.” Echo whispered.

“I can handle it fine.” You muttered back.

“You might, but he can’t.” Echo said, jutting his head in Hunter’s direction.

You glanced over to see Hunter’s fists clenched at his sides; his jaw tight as he stared at Tarkin. Any other day, you would’ve let your thoughts run wild with what that could mean, but now was not the correct time for that sort of thought process so you just skipped to the last part of your routine and dismissed it as nothing special. It was nothing more than a leader who cared about the general wellbeing of his squad, if it had been anyone else, it would’ve been the same.

“I assume you know the punishment for treason.” Tarkin resumed, speaking to the clone sergeant.

You went to open your mouth again but Echo’s tug on your arm stopped you.

“Treason?” Hunter replied, shocked.

“Throw them in the brig.” Tarkin ordered.

This was how you would die.

This was the way Tarkin would kill you.

No, not by finding out your Jedi secret.

But by locking you in the brig with Hunter wearing only his blacks.

The material clung tightly to him, accentuating every ripple of muscle he had. You simply could not handle it. Yes, the two of you shared a bunk and when he had the time, you knew he would remove his armour and sleep in them, but it was usually always dark, and you were too exhausted to actually notice and appreciate what they did for him. You weren’t the most focused waking up either, so you’d never had, what you supposed was the pleasure given the way your body was reacting right now with heat spreading throughout it and your heart rate dramatically increasing, of seeing him in them.

Now it was happening at the worst possible time.

You were trapped.

In a tight space.

With every other squad member.

Who in the galaxy had you wronged to receive this punishment? To have him in front of you, looking like that, and not being able to act on every impulse that your body was wanting to do, was torture.

It felt wrong, not to mention a little bit creepy, to let your mind wander this way when there was no way his had ever done the same, but you couldn’t help it. This was going to kill you.

“You’re staring.” Echo uttered quietly to you.

“Shut it.” You shushed back, no malice behind it, before turning away from Hunter swiftly and you sat down on the bench, so out of it that you didn’t notice the small child sitting in the corner of the cell or really register that Hunter had been looking at you just as intensely.

Hunter couldn’t help but look at you. If Tarkin wanted to give him a hard time, this was a good way to do it. Being trapped in the brig with you was doing things to him that he should be better at ignoring. Your top layer had been taken off you so you were left wearing your leggings and undershirt which meant much of your skin was exposed and it was making his mind create images and thoughts he absolutely should not be having. He began thinking about the various ways he could make the goosebumps on your arms disappear, but he stopped himself. It was not the correct time for this, it was never the correct time for it, but he couldn’t help himself. This was going to be a struggle.

“You’re staring.” Wrecker whispered to him.

“I’m not.” Hunter replied defensively, before looking away from you quickly and facing the back of the cell.

Echo glanced between the two of you as you both looked away from each other at the same time. He sighed internally. He couldn’t believe you both were so clueless. Everyone else could see how you felt about each other but nothing had happened. He’d lost track of the number of conversations he and the others had with each of you individually about it, only to be faced with pathetic denials and excuses from both of you. They’d even tried a couple of times to set up situations were the two of you were alone, to try and force one of you to talk because it was just getting ridiculous and still nothing happened. You both were, somehow, too oblivious to what you felt for one another.

“Well, the plan wasn’t a total failure.” Tech spoke up.

You looked at him and followed his gaze and there was Omega. Huddled against the wall of the cell. Wow, your brain had short circuited after seeing Hunter. How did you not see her? What happened next wasn’t helping either. You watched as Hunter made his way forward and kneel down in front of her, it took all your willpower to not stare at the muscles in his back.

“I warned you not to come back.” Omega said.

“Had to. We were looking for you.” Hunter responded, making sure he was keeping his eyes on her and not you.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her face light up in surprise.

“Me?” She replied.

“What do you say, kid? You wanna come with us or did we get captured for nothing?” Hunter asked.

“You came back for me?” She repeated.

“That’s right. Or you can stay on Kamino if-”

“No, it’s like I said before. I want to go with you.” She said eagerly, standing up.

“How touching.” Crosshair sneered.

You turned to look at Crosshair before glancing back at Hunter as he stood up and stared back at Crosshair. You cleared your throat, trying to disperse the awkward tension that had arose.

“Uh, Hunter, how are we breaking outta here?” Wrecker asked.

“I’m working on it.” He replied sternly, his eyes staying on Crosshair.

“You know what you should work on? Explaining when you went soft. I have a pretty good idea though.” Crosshair said, his eyes focusing on you.

You looked away awkwardly. Apart from Echo, Crosshair had been one of the main people who had spoken to you about the whole Hunter situation despite your many denials. Even though he’d done it in his Crosshair way, you had never got the impression it was a serious problem for him. Until now.

Hunter stole a glance at you before looking back at Crosshair.

“Stow it, Crosshair.” Echo said.

You noticed Omega glancing in your direction. You gave her what you hoped was a reassuring smile and stood up and walked just behind Hunter, so you were standing next to her.

“Don’t you see we’re locked up in here because of him?” Crosshair said angrily. “He had us disobey orders.”

“So what?” You asked.

“I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem.” Tech added.

“Yeah. We do it all the time.” Wrecker agreed.

“Good soldiers follow orders.” Crosshair said aggressively, taking a few steps closer to Hunter. “Every choice you’ve made since Kaller has been wrong. First the Padawan, then Gerrera. You’re becoming a liability.”

You shook your head in disbelief but when you saw Omega look anxiously back up at you again, you put your arm around her shoulder. Judging by your most recent displays, if you spoke up more, you would probably only make things worse.

“We can debate my choices later.” Hunter replied. “For now, let’s focus on getting outta here.” He took a step away from Crosshair.

You studied Crosshair as he went to sit down. He was clutching the side of his head. Something about him now just felt weird to you, he felt like a stranger. You felt Omega leave your side and watched as she made her way over to him. She was a medical assistant after all, maybe she could figure out what was going on with him. You sat back down on the bench and placed your face in your hands, wincing slightly as you forgot about the bruise that was forming on your cheek.

“Does it hurt?”

You lifted your eyes to see Hunter kneeling in front of you, his eyes focused on you. You shook your head. “Nah not really. There’ll be a bruise but it’s fine if I just leave it alone. I should’ve seen it coming though, there was only so much of my charming demeanour Tarkin could take.” You said with a small smile. Before you could say anything else, you looked past Hunter to see a shock trooper approaching. You stood up.

Hunter mirrored your actions and turned to see what was going on.

“CT-9904, you’re coming with us.” The trooper dictated, whilst another brought the shield down.

You took a couple steps to the right whilst Hunter darted in front of the trooper. “Oh, no, no, no. We stay together.” He said firmly.

The trooper only hit his blaster into Hunter’s stomach.

“Hunter!” You quickly made your way over to him and grabbed his arm to haul him back to his feet. “Are you okay?” You asked softly.

“I’m fine.” He replied, grimacing slightly as he straightened up.

“Yeah, being on the receiving end of one of those isn’t the greatest feeling in the world.” You let go of his arm and made to step towards the clone, but he held his blaster up.

“Stand down!” He ordered.

You and the others stilled and all you could do was watch as Crosshair left the cell and walked out the door with them. You didn’t know what they wanted with him, but one thing was certain, it could not possibly be good.

You were situated on the other end of the cell, opting to lean against the wall rather than the bench. You told yourself it would be more comfortable for your back and not because you had a better view of Hunter that way.

You straightened your back against the wall. It had been a while since you’d all been sent to the brig, and you were getting fed up. You couldn’t be bothered wrestling with your inner turmoil anymore. All it would take would be a simple flick of your wrist and the switch controlling the shield would be lowered and you all would be able to leave. You could deal with the other soldiers easily enough and then you could leave them and… and never look back.

You sighed sadly but as you looked to where Hunter was sitting, that feeling of sadness changed in to one of amusement as you saw Omega mimicking each movement he made. That was another reason to do this, at least you guys had actually done something to piss Tarkin off, Omega was just a kid and didn’t deserve this. You inhaled deeply. “Guys I can-”

“I’ve got it. Why didn’t I think of it before?” Tech interrupted before pausing to looking back at you.

“No, go ahead Tech.” You said quickly. Just because you’d been at peace with that decision didn’t mean you wanted to do it, doing that would still put them in danger so if Tech had a plan, then you weren’t going to stop him.

Tech moved Echo aside and sat where he had once been before continuing. “This isn’t a prison.”

“Yeah, well I beg to differ.” Echo said.

“This is a Kaminoan facility. It was built prior to the Clone Wars. There were no barracks or prisons when it was constructed.” Tech clarified.

“Well, how does that help us?” You asked.

“Because while these cells were retrofitted to hold normal individuals, they could not possibly account for someone like Wrecker.” Tech replied.

“Oh! You mean I could punch our way out?” Wrecker asked eagerly, standing up.

You glanced over to where the troopers were and noticed them looking back to where you all were.

“Ssshh.” Hunter and Omega both said.

“Oh. Right. You mean I could punch our way out?” Wrecker repeated at a whisper this time.

“If you punch the correct spot.” Tech confirmed.

“Right. Show me where.” Wrecker said, rubbing his knuckles keenly.

“If this is gonna work, we’ll need some cover. Form a wall.” Hunter ordered.

You, Echo, Hunter, and Omega stood up to conceal the area of the wall Tech was examining. Omega had taken up what was your usual position next to Hunter, so you just stood next to her.

Hunter glanced down at Omega and then looked over her head at you only to see you look back at him and shrug with a small smile on your face.

“Hit this. Here.” Tech directed to Wrecker before coming to stand next to you.

“Right.” Wrecker kneeled down. “Tell me when.”

“Now.” Hunter said.

Wrecker punched the area and quickly sat back down.

The rest of you stood casually and waited for the troopers to look away again.

Wrecker examined the spot that he hit but let out a grumble. “Nothing happened.”

“Are you sure this is going to work?” You asked Tech quietly. You needed to know if your services would actually be required.

“Try it again. A little harder.” Tech said.

“You’re all clear. Make it count.” Hunter said.

“Okay.” Wrecker said before pulling his arm back and crashing his fist into the metal wall.

Again, you all waited for the soldiers to look away from you.

“Oh, it still didn’t work.” Wrecker said.

You kept your eyes on the soldiers in front of you, but you felt Tech leave your side to examine the wall.

“Oh yes, it did.” Tech corrected. “Look.” He pulled back part of the metal to reveal an opening behind the wall.

“I’ll never fit through that.” Wrecker pointed out.

“Astute as always Wrecker, but I was actually going to suggest-”

“I’ll do it.” Omega agreed.

“You sure, kid?” Hunter asked.

“I’m sure.” She confirmed.

“I’ll go with her.” You said, looking at Hunter.

He nodded. He knew you could handle these guards just fine; he didn’t need to be worried. “Okay. Omega, get to the console and hit the lever to lower the ray shield.” He looked back at you. “The guards are all yours.”

You smiled before glancing down at Omega. “Come on, Omega, let’s go.” You both stepped back and squeezed through the gap in the wall. You let Omega start climbing first, you followed closely behind.

“Incoming.” Echo warned as the group of shock troopers approached.

“Wait, where are the other two?” The guard at the front asked.

“You tell us.” Hunter replied calmly.

“Harm them and you’re a dead man.” Echo said.

Another one of the clones spoke into the commlink on his wrist. “Operations, we need a status report on prisoners 0219 and 0220.”

You and Omega paused as you heard this echo up through the vent, she had stopped just on top of it, you were just behind her.

Omega felt the vent buckle under her slightly and she glanced back at you.

You held your finger up to your lips and raised your hand to tell her to wait. You kept an ear out for what was happening below you and from the sounds of it, Wrecker was doing his best to provide an excuse, but he didn’t quite have the knack for that sorta skill, for as long as you knew him, he never had.

You kept listening and knew you had your opening once you heard the guard ask again for where the two of you were. You nudged Omega’s leg and gave a single nod of your head. As she hit the vent and came tumbling down with it, you jumped down quickly after her and you noticed that most of the guards were trapped under it, so your job had just gotten a lot simpler. “Hit the switch, Omega!” You called before landing a kick to the trooper that had gotten up to grab her and that kick sent him right into Wrecker’s oncoming fist. You took in the scene around you and sighed.

“What?” Hunter asked, walking over to you.

“Oh, nothing. Just thought I’d have more to do.” You pouted. “Omega did a lot of my job for me. Nice job, kid!” You said smiling at her.

Hunter chuckled before addressing the wider group. “We need to find out where they took Crosshair. Let’s move.”

You all carefully made your way through the hallways before stopping at the next new corridor. You sighed. “We’re not going to get very far without our gear.”

“They started moving all your things to the hangar. Your gear might be there too.” Omega suggested to Hunter.

“This way.” Hunter directed.

The six of you began to quickly head towards the hangar. You only hoped you would be able to find and help Crosshair in time.

The group of you silently made your way into the hangar and you were pleased to see that all your kit was there. You grabbed your hooded layer and hastily put it on, and you immediately felt comforted. You knew you shouldn’t have let it, but the ensemble you had put together provided you with a deep sense of security, something you’d only ever found at one other time in your life and that involved lying next to a certain someone in the quiet and darkness of space. You were losing one, so you were glad to still have the other.

You slung your sword over your back and tied your smaller vibroblade to your thigh. You looked around you to see the others finishing putting their gear back on, though Wrecker seemed to have lost something.

“Tech, power up the ship. The rest of us will go after Crosshair.” Hunter instructed, grabbing his blaster.

Yet again, you felt a disturbance in your veins as you heard the beeping of the door behind you. You turned to look towards it. “I don’t think we’ll have to go far.” Just as you said that the door opened. You and the others ducked swiftly before peaking over the crates in front of you and what you saw filled your heart with dismay. Amidst the shock troopers that ran through, came another soldier, armour all black, sniper rifle in hand. You weren’t fast enough.

“Is that… Crosshair?” Wrecker asked, his tone filled with disbelief.

You saw out of the corner of your eye that Hunter had stood up and walked into the middle of the room, so he was standing across from Crosshair. Your eyes darted between them, you had to be ready just in case. You wouldn’t let anything happen to Hunter.

“Best stand down, Sergeant.” Crosshair warned. “Make it easy on yourself.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Hunter replied.

“We should’ve killed that Jedi. You disobeyed orders.”

Your heart stopped. What had happened to him? You bit your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything that would only prove to escalate the situation. You took a moment to glance down at Omega who had taken cover by the crate you were positioned at. You laid a hand on her shoulder, hoping that it would provide some comfort before focusing your attention back on Hunter and Crosshair.

“I did what I thought was right.” Hunter answered.

“You never could see the bigger picture. Now surrender.”

One look at Hunter and the others told you everything you needed to know. No one here was surrendering.

“Is that an order?” Hunter asked.

“Heh. I guess it is.” Crosshair responded with a smirk.

“Well, I guess I’m disobeying that one too.”

You took a deep as the two of them stared each other down. You knew one of them was getting ready to shoot and you just knew Crosshair would be the one to shoot first so if it looked like Hunter wouldn’t be able to get out the way in time, you would be ready. “Stay close, Omega.” You whispered to her whilst keeping your gaze on the men in front of you.

You waited, everyone else tensed their blasters but you waited.

You’d had a lot of practice in patience. In everyday situations, you weren’t great at it but when it came to scenarios like this, you pretty much had it nailed.

You tuned out the thunder in the background and watched.

You exhaled deeply as you watched Hunter duck out the way of Crosshair’s shot and you turned back to face him, your back against the crate, as he hunkered down in front of you. “Don’t do that to me.” You chastised him but your voice was filled with relief.

Hunter couldn’t let his mind wander about what your relief meant in regard to him right now, so he only nodded at you before putting his helmet on and taking up position next to you.

“Omega, keep your head down.” You told her as blaster shots pinged off the crate and your surroundings. You cursed under your breath as the shock troopers threw smoke charges, concealing your view, well only partially concealing yours. You could sense where the others were, but you couldn’t reveal that without answering other questions and given Crosshair’s new allegiance, you most certainly couldn’t do anything to remove the smoke yourself. You and Hunter ducked as a blaster bolt fired past your heads. “Tech, we gotta move. Now!” You called into the comm on your wrist.

“I’m working on it.” Tech responded.

“Wrecker, clear the smoke on three.” Hunter directed.

“You got it, boss.” Wrecker replied, grabbing two crate lids.

“Omega, stay low.” Hunter reiterated. “One… two…”

“Three!” Wrecker finished, jumping up and hitting the trays together, the impact dispersing the smoke.

You watched as he flung the lids into the oncoming soldiers, one making contact, but Crosshair managed to get out of the way of the other before getting a shot away in Wrecker’s direction. You quickly moved a finger, keeping your hands at your side but it wasn’t enough, the bolt still made contact with the upper left part of Wrecker’s chest, and you watched with worry as he fell down. “Omega, don’t!” You grabbed the girl’s arm and pulled her next to you just as a shot whizzed past. “He’s using Wrecker as bait.” You told her, keeping her from going again.

“But he needs help.”

“I know.” You said, looking at her with a nod. You turned to face Hunter. “What’s the plan, Hunter?”

“Tech, we’re out of time.” Hunter called to the ship, looking away from you.

“Almost got it!” Tech called back, powering up the engines.

“When I say go, you both head for that ramp and don’t stop. Got it?” Hunter said, his helmet turning from Omega to look at you. “Echo, we go for Wrecker.”

“No way, I’m not-” You began to protest.

“I need you to be safe.”

Any quick retort you were about to give vanished from your lips. “What?”

“I meant I need you to make sure the kid stays safe.” Hunter corrected quickly. Now was not the time.

You sighed, of course that’s what he meant. “Okay.”

“Go!” Hunter stood up and repeatedly fired his blaster in the direction of Crosshair and the other troopers.

You grabbed Omega’s hand and the two of you ran to the ship, but you couldn’t shake the deep feeling within you that Echo and Hunter would need your help. Clearly Omega felt similarly because you both stopped at the same time. You noticed a blaster on top of one of the crates. You grabbed it and handed it to her. “Go to the stairs of the ship. Trust yourself and take the shot. You’ll know when.” You told her urgently. You watched her take the blaster with a nod, fear but also determination behind her eyes.

“What about you?”

“I’m going to circle back around this crate. Don’t wait for me.” You both split up, you making sure you moved to the crate closest to you, your eyes never leaving Crosshair.

Just as you got yourself situated, you saw Crosshair raise his rifle towards where Echo and Hunter were struggling to get Wrecker to the ship.

You lifted your hand, closed your eyes, and called on the Force to push him down. Just as you did this, you heard Omega’s shot hit his blaster and you opened your eyes to see Crosshair sprawled on the floor. You knew he wouldn’t stay down very long. With Hunter and Echo’s gaze fixed on Omega, you darted out and grabbed Wrecker’s feet to help bring him on board the ship.

Crosshair couldn’t understand what just happened, one minute he was getting ready to fire his rifle, the next he was knocked to the ground. He recovered quickly and stood up, drawing his other blaster.

“I told you to go.” Hunter said, voice straining slightly with Wrecker’s additional weight.

“That wasn’t going to happen.” You replied, ducking your head as some of Crosshair’s hurried shots rang around you. You all made it onto the ship, and it took off, leaving Crosshair and Kamino behind you.

“Ouch!” Wrecker complained as you stuck the needle in his shoulder between the gaps in his armour. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s that gonna do?” He asked anxiously as he saw the next needle you brought out.

“You’ll be okay. Just hold still.” You replied.

“Is this what you were looking for?” Omega asked, holding the stuffed toy up to Wrecker.

“You found my Lula!” Wrecker gasped, taking it from the small girl.

You used that moment to quickly stick the other shot into his neck.

“Ow!” Wrecker cried out.

“I saw an opportunity and I took it.” You said with a smile. “It’s done now, don’t worry.”

Omega giggled and moved out the way as Tech came over to Wrecker.

“Hold still.” Tech instructed, holding out his scanner.

“Don’t examine me. I’m not a computer.” Wrecker said huffily.

“This will take just a second.” Tech responded.

“Get that thing away from me.” Wrecker grunted.

You huffed out a laugh and looked away from the two squabbling clones to see Omega heading for the cockpit. You took a few steps forward and turned around to look at Hunter, tilting your head in Omega’s direction, indicating that he should follow.

Hunter nodded and walked with you into the cockpit. He glanced at you, not knowing if he should speak first. He wasn’t sure how this was all was supposed to work.

“Go on.” You murmured. You stayed back a couple paces, waiting for him to go first.

He took a deep breath before approaching Omega. “Your first time in space?”

“First time anywhere.” Omega replied, looking back at him.

There was a slight pause before he spoke again. “That was an impressive shot back there. Where’d you learn to do that?” Hunter asked.

“I don’t know. She told me to trust myself but I’ve never fired a blaster before. I guess I got lucky.” She said, with a shrug of her shoulders.

Hunter faced you. “You told her to take the shot?”

“Figured you’d need to the help. I didn’t want anything to happen to you.” You told him as you came to stand beside him. “Or Echo, or Wrecker.” You included quickly.

Before Hunter could say anything else to you, Tech and the others wandered through.

You took that moment to step aside and sit down in the seat behind the co-pilots chair. That was a bit close. You chuckled as you saw Echo come through bearing much of Wrecker’s weight, it definitely looked like a struggle. “How’s he doing, Tech?”

“He got lucky, but he’ll be fine.” Tech replied.

“It’ll take more than a blaster shot to take me down.” Wrecker said with a laugh.

“You were down.” Echo corrected, removing Wrecker’s arm from his shoulder.

“Yeah, well, not for long.” Wrecker responded with a chuckled before grabbing his shoulder in pain.

“What’s the plan, Hunter?” Tech asked, swivelling his pilot’s chair slightly.

“I thought we could go off on our own. Lay low. But with Crosshair gunning for us, I’m not so sure.” Hunter answered.

“What about your friends? Could any of them help us.” Omega asked, looking back at Tech.

You barked out a laugh.

“That would be a short list.” Tech replied, before looking back out the window.

“I can think of one.” Hunter revealed. “Plot a course for J-19.”

“J-19?” You and Echo asked.

“We know a guy.” Hunter said, glancing between you both before looking back at Omega and turning the co-pilot seat towards her. “Strap in kid, you’re not gonna want to miss this view.”

You smiled warmly as you watched him and as you saw Omega study what Tech was doing to prepare the jump to hyperspace but that smile quickly became one of sadness. You were dreading the conversation you needed to have once you reached this new destination. You sighed and left your seat just as the ship entered hyperspace.

You stepped away from the cockpit and were just about to take your sword off and lay it down when you heard Echo say something that made you freeze.

“I still can’t believe Crosshair just fell down like that.”

“Yeah, that was pretty weird.” Wrecker agreed.

“Anyone see what happened?” Hunter asked.

“Oh, that was (Y/N).” Omega answered innocently.

Shit. You were rooted to the spot. You thought you’d gotten away with it.

“It couldn’t possibly have been her, she was nowhere near Crosshair. She was helping get Wrecker on board the ship.” Tech corrected.

“Yeah, how could she have done that?” Wrecker asked.

“Her attention was on Crosshair when he was getting ready to shoot. I saw her close her eyes, raise her hand slightly and the next thing that happened was he was on the ground.” Omega explained.

Fuck.

“Ha nice one kid, way to cheer me up. No way she can do that.” Wrecker said with a laugh. He turned to face you, expecting to see you smiling at such a ridiculous suggestion but instead he was met with your back.

Hunter had turned to look at you, only to see you frozen in place. Omega couldn’t have been right, could she?

“She does not possess such an ability.” Tech argued. “Only the…” Tech trailed off, turning to look at you. You had been behaving differently ever since Kaller and this could be a reason as to why. Was it true?

“Yeah, sorry Omega, only the Jedi can do that and she certainly isn’t one. We’d know.” Echo added. “Right?” Echo turned to look at you only to be met with the sight of your back at the other end of the ship. “(Y/N)?”

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t lie anymore. You felt all their eyes on your back.

“I’m sorry, did I say something I shouldn’t have?” Omega asked worriedly.

You sighed and finished taking off your weapon. “No.” You probably would’ve had to tell them when you told them you were leaving, they wouldn’t have let you get out of that one without a series of questions. You squeezed your eyes tight before opening them and turning to face the many pairs of eyes that were focused on you. You might as well start over. You introduced yourself again with a new piece of information. “Hi. My name is (Y/N) and I used to be a member of the Jedi Order.”

Next Chapter>

#the bad batch #hunter x reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x female!reader #hunter x femaleJedi!reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #friends to lovers #star wars #fluff #angst #hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter x you #the bad batch fanfiction

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angel-of-the-moons · 1 month ago

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Any peeps in Florida/down south! In light of many people likely losing power, here is a friendly tip if you want to wash your hair etc!

These are awapuhi (shampoo) "bitter" ginger; also known as the "beehive flower", "pinecone flower" or "corn flower" as I like to sometimes call them.

I have seen them grow in nice big clusters in different parts of Florida (and some other places too). These flowers have helped out the past couple of years when we don't have running water during outages and storms; but we want to stay clean!

(images found on Google)

HOW TO IDENTIFY:

They are rather obvious plants, but some come in different colors! The "unripe" ones are usually green, and their nectar smells slightly bitter but still works the same as a fully mature plant. Just remember to be a bit more gentle on these, and the tiny blossoms they may have on them.

If you want a sweeter, more perfume flowery-type scent: a ripe flower can range from deep pink/red (like these images), though I've read that some can get darker.

WHAT THE NECTAR IS/HOW TO USE IT:

The liquid "nectar" can range from thick to watery--but!--you can put it in your hair and let it dry (it does dry like water) and it will help keep your hair shiny and lightly fragranced.

I grow my own, but if you see them, try to collect the nectar in things like bottles or cups, and apply as much as you like/need for your hair. I recommend holding your head over a sink or tub to keep it from getting everywhere while you cleanse.

(It CAN make your eyes sting if you get it in them, so be careful!)

You can also freeze them in ice cube trays or small Tupperware for later use to preserve the quality of the nectar as it CAN go sour at room temperature if left out for too long (ask me how I know THAT lol). I usually only harvest a few ounces and put it in the fridge for immediate use a few times a week.

HOW TO HARVEST:

DO NOT remove the flower or cut it, as they do not grow quickly and you will kill the plant that much quicker. Try to avoid bending the stalks as well. As we approach the end of their season, I hope people can get a lot of use from these little guys in the wake of the storm!

Make sure to wear rubber/latex/vinyl gloves if it feels icky (some of them also have tiny barbs. While not painful, they can be annoying to graze while milking the plant). With all the rain incoming, these flowers will be nice and plump--full of nectar!

What you do is lightly squeeze in an upward motion and make sure the nectar drips into your container or hand (a funnel greatly increases chances of a better collection). You can strain it through a coffee filter to remove any unwanted "pulp", bugs or dirt. Then use as you please!

The nectar also soothes things like bug bites, cracked skin etc (at least in my personal experiences with it) so you can also use it for that! Just remember to do an allergy test just in case you're worried about that.

These are uses I can confirm myself that work! I love harvesting bare-handed because it always leaves my skin so soft and buttery!

Stay safe out there from this storm, everybody.

And have fun jerking off your flowers aksksklsdl

#🌙 arch's thoughts #hurricane prep #hurricae helene

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wordsinhaled · 3 months ago

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transmasc haircut woes ahead...

so i was growing out my hair again but it is starting to become annoying/a sensory nightmare this summer/doesn't feel like me/kinda gives me some dysphoria.

so i wanna give it the chop (again).

but the thing is i am. like. very intimidated by barber shops??? i live in a significantly queerer and more progressive city now than i used to which helps. but i'm still a tiny 4'10 pre-T transmasc person and i do not feel like i look like someone who "belongs" in a barber shop, if there is such a thing (i'm sure there isn't but the anxiety tells me there is).

i am sure i am overthinking it but being in like... a Designated Male Space feels quite scary. i struggle to even walk past florsheim's in the mall or have other men see me in the men's section of stores, if that gives you context on how scary all of this is for me. i have no idea what i think is gonna happen if i walk in there - like, anxiety brain says i'm gonna be gatekept out, people are gonna be like, "what are you doing here?" or "you're not masc enough to be in here," or whatever, i have LITERALLY no idea - and i'm sure i'm making a mountain out of a molehill and no one will actually be mean to me or bully me in a barber shop!

but the thing is i have like, no idea what goes on in there? and that's part of the anxiety, i guess. mind you, i know queer cis women go and get their hair cut in barber shops as well, so i guess... i also don't want to be read as that either?

i have gotten my hair cut before by a male hairdresser at a hair salon and it was a person my parents picked, a hair style my mom picked, and then he would dye my hair a Different Shade of Brown and my mom would give me frosted highlights or whatever at home, because she told me my natural hair color was boring and lacked depth. i had more or less zero control over the experience in terms of what i came out looking like. i was like... 23, 24 when this was still happening.

at one point, she took me to a consultation to get my hair chemically straightened (keratin, i think it was going to be) which would have gotten rid of my natural wavy texture, because i was "too lazy to put in the work" to do anything with my hair (because i wanted it to be short, most of the time, if anyone asked me). that was like, the one thing i brought myself to be able to say no to because. i didn't want to do that.

it took a while for my hair not to be processed to shit and to grow back in nice. but i fucking LOVE my natural hair color and texture and volume actually, it's beautiful, in my opinion, if i do say so myself. it's a lovely shade of brown and it's got amber/chestnut highlights in it in the sunshine and it has nice texture and it's soft. come pet my hair, basically.

anyway, sorry for the detour about Hair Styling Trauma but maybe this will help explain why the fuck i feel like i can't go and just Get My Hair Cut. lol, gotta love finally getting out from under the thumb of a narcissist and still having Shit Going On years later.

even up until the most recent time my hair was short, i have been going to hair salons (not barber shops) and i have been in that weird limbo of "girl asking for pixie cut," which is NOT the experience i want this time. every hairdresser i've ever had is always like, are you sure you want it this short? the last person who cut my hair was a pretty chill italian guy (like, came recently from italy, spoke italian in his shop, not like long-time italian-american type italian) who felt... probably the safest i've found because he was sort of relaxed about the whole thing and didn't get weird about it. but even with him, as close as i managed to verbalize what i want was to ask for something "gender neutral" because it felt like. incredibly scary to be like, "i do not want to look like girl. please do not make me look like girl."

he understood the assignment and is probably the one who would give me the best haircuts i've had. but even then it still sort of felt like i was... asking for it in a sort of weird adjacent-to-what-i-really-meant way and getting there by sheer coincidence of a person understanding the assignment vs like. please make me look more like boy. am not girl trying to look like boy. am not edgy girl with pixie cut. you feel me???

edit: also. i don't think that hair is inherently gendered one way or another, it's just like... the way that people tend to gender the process/different types and styles of hair that makes me uncomfortable and makes me feel misgendered. and like the perceptions of you that people have. and that a lot of the vibe is going to depend on how whatever individual haircut works with my face. and that when i go on T these things may also change. so i'm not trying to like... binary the hair but also... it's the dysphoria of how people talk to you/look at you/etc. at personal care places, you know?

i don't even necessarily want something with zero length, because my hair tends to look good when there's something there to style, but i just ... i don't want a Women's Short Haircut, you know??? at the same time i know that i have a Lot of Hair and people have fucked up my short haircuts before so i don't want a Bad Haircut either. i don't feel like i can do the same shit i always do again where i come in and sit there silently and slightly embarrassedly while i secretly hack my way into gender euphoria while the person thinks they're cutting a girl's hair.

anyway, what the fuck do i do and how do i not feel like dysphoria central during this whole process? what is a barber shop like? what do people talk about in there? can i just be quiet? is everything going to clock that i have not socialized with men like ever but want to? idk, do i lead with being transmasc? do i just bring sample photos of men's haircuts only and have a conversation about how they will work with my face shape? do i just say i am trying to look Not Like a Girl? that seems. incredibly terrifying. i would bring a queer friend to chill me out, but i haven't made any here yet to be able to bring.

asdjdjfj if u have read this far thank you and sorry for being a hot mess !!!

#transblr #uhhh how else do i even tag this #personal

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marchsfreakshow · 1 year ago

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Cigarette Tension [Michael De Santa]

You and Michael De Santa; you're friends with Tracey De Santa, and she brings you home one day when Amanda and Jimmy are out.

Moodboard made by @lilthbunny

Sort of a self insert fic cause I'm down bad for this man. (And as gender neutral as I could make it lol)

Could be suggestive. -18 be warned; Addiction to smoking is referenced.

Your perspective.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tracey pulled up in the driveway, and I stared wide-eyed at her house. It was a mansion, let alone one with a pool and a tennis court of all things! She got out of the car and my jaw was slack. "Y/N c'mon! Fame Or Shame is gonna start sooonnn!" She wiggled a bit as I brought myself out of my trance and stepped out of the car.

I had become friends with Tracey De Santa recently after accidentally bumping into her when I was shopping. We apologized after a while, but at first, she was telling me off, annoying me with 'what's your excuse?!' And 'im from money you know?! Daddy can kill you instantly!' I rolled my eyes a bit before picking up her stuff.

"lemme pay you back."

"This was $100..?" She asked, staring at the broken perfume bottle on the ground.

"Okay? I have $200 to spend still." She just smiled and I took her back into the perfume shop.

A few weeks later, and more asks later, I was finally stood by her front door. "I think Jimmy and Mom are out. Daddy's being lazy still in the living room." She grinned. I chuckled in response and walked in with her. "Daddy! My friend Y/N is here."

I followed the chirpy girl into the living room. It was magnificent, and much more than my small apartment. But the man sitting on the sofa took my attention. He was in his 50s at least. Chubby... but attractive. He looked over with a drink of whiskey in one hand.

We made eye contact immediately, and it was like I was captured by him, even though I was just looking into his eyes. I couldn't let my thoughts run wild here, I just couldn't. No one said anything, but Tracey could tell I was staring. "Y/N. Eugh. I'll be in my room sorting this shopping out. Be right back."

I sort of mumbled an okay and leaned against a wall awkwardly. Michael went back to the TV. "you can come and sit down."

"oh I'm okay, thank you though."

As soon as I said that, the man stood up. He turned off the TV, and quietly went outside, holding out a cigarette box behind him. I stared hungrily at the box while it disappeared. The debate and war in my head were eventually won, and I nonchalantly joined him outside. "You smell like you smoke inside."

"You smell like an addict."

"And look at that, you lured me out here." I felt so confident now. My own guess was the cigarette between my fingers, and the lighter I was about to light for the both of us.

We made eye contact again as the cigarettes were lit and we took our breaths.

Tracey clearly was busy sorting out my own shopping compared to hers. I bought barely any expensive things, but it seemed she got everything that was expensive. "How did you meet my angel then?" The word 'angel' came out like sarcasm, but I felt the love within it.

"I broke her perfume by accident when we bumped into each other. I decided I was nice that day, and bought her a new one." Michael raised an eyebrow, side-eyeing me for a second. I fidgeted around a bit as we took our time to smoke.

A few minutes went by before he stomped his cigarette out, I wanted to take my time. I already fucked up my cigarette sobriety, why not enjoy it? Michael's eyes found mine again. A war was happening in my brain again. He was attractive, for a 50-something-year-old. But god he was married! With two kids my age, a bit younger. Clearly.

I was finishing my cigarette up, and I stomped it out soon after. He stood in front of me barely blocking the bright sun. "Michael."

"I can tell..."

"Tell what?"

He placed a kiss on my cheek, then my neck. I was confused and turned away. "You got it figured out.", Michael winked at me, then headed back inside.

I was standing there, against a wall, in my friend's backyard, questioning why her dad just kissed me after a cigarette. He smelled vintage. Old cologne, worn-out suits, and the cigarettes.

When I figured he was back to watching TV or something, I walked in awkwardly. The man was distracted with making a bowl of chips in the kitchen. After taking a deep breath, I headed up the stairs and found Tracey's room right in front of the stairs. She was sleeping. I wasn't sure for how long, but she was asleep. The other door, I assumed was Jimmy's by the sign on it. "Welp, fuck Fame or Shame I guess," I muttered, grabbing my own bags, that held my shopping.

"Why don't you stay for the evening? You're nice. And you seem like a good friend to my girl." Michael said suddenly. The tension I felt last time had come back.

"oh no, I really couldn't. I have all this, and I wanna get it all home quickly." I stuttered out, feeling embarrassed for no reason. I barely knew these people! Why was this middle-aged man so attractive and why did I have to make friends with his daughter!? It seemed like the war in my brain never stopped. My nerves calmed when I was on my own. Or I was drinking. So many things calmed me, but staying the night wasn't one of them.

"No seriously. C'mon. I'm ordering Chinese food tonight. D'you like Chinese food?" Michael just smiled and patted the seat next to him. The TV was playing some sort of old film. A noir film.

As I sat down next to him, awkwardly, I nodded. "I get takeaway a lot."

"oh?"

"I'm not incredibly well off, but I got 400 from my aunt recently. So, I paid my rent for a few months, and y'know. Met Tracey-." My mouth blabbered. I waffled a lot before Michael cut me off.

"You're staying then?"

"Mhm."

"Good! I'm sure Amanda will take to you." His eyes stuck to the movie. It was intimate. I leaned my chin on my knees while attempting to watch the movie too.

Time passed. Movies and shows went by. We ate, and drank, and he had one last cigarette. I wasn't sure where Amanda and Jimmy were, and Tracey was a deep sleeper. "Where is everyone?"

"Jimmy'll come back soon. And Amanda probably found somewhere else to sleep."

"That... sounds bad." My tone was slightly guilty. Not like I had done anything anyway, but it was 4 p.m. at this point, and no one had come back to Michael's place.

"My relationship is fucked. Might as well keep it up."

"What happened? If you don't mind talking about it.."

"I fucked another stripper. She decided her tennis coach was the best person to go to after. Because of course, she did. In my own house, on my own bed. Of all fucking places."

Michael kept going about their relationship, but I could tell he was leaving some details out. Like he couldn't tell me every part of the story. When he stopped and looked over at me, I held his hand softly. He used his hands a lot clearly. Rugged, short, dirty nails. My thumb softly rubbed over his thumb. Empathy wasn't my strong suit, but I could try. The man's eyes softened for once and placed the same hand on my thigh.

I was feeling something. But I was so, distracted by looking at him, I couldn't tell what he wanted. Whatever it was, I didn't know if I should give it to him. The concentration on my face became obvious, and he backed down a bit, moving his hand away. "You didn't..have to.." I whispered, inching closer to him and his alcoholic breath. He kept his silence and went back to the position we were in a few seconds ago. It was like a clock was ticking. A time bomb about to explode.

This was lust. Not love. I didn't want to be known as the one who fucked my best friend's dad. Not particularly. But, he held me captive when I stared at him. Why was he fucking me with his eyes? That look I didn't see often, I knew it. All he did was hold onto my waist as I faced him, sitting on my knees. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know who was around. All I knew was that I just wanted him. For some fucked reason. Daddy issues I guess.

His hair was a bit messed up after being inside all day. The red shirt, the baggy trousers. His hands. His eyes, and his 5 o'clock shadow that was still there at 7pm. Everything about this feeling was fucked. Everything. But god he was so handsome. At any moment, his wife could come through the door, or his son, or Tracey could wake up, and kick me out of the house for being weird with her dad. My eyes screamed nervousness apparently.

"We'll be okay."

He kissed me gently, and he held me gently. This felt insane. What was I doing?! Kissing a married man!? While I kissed him back, my thoughts were like a race track. Where did I drop off my shopping? Nothing sounded like it broke, but maybe something did. "Are you alright?" Michael rested his hand on the side of my face, looking concerned.

"You're distracted."

"I suppose so."

"Nothing matters right now. Calm yourself."

We were entangled in each other again. I sat on his lap, straddling him. He held the small of my back. I gripped his shoulders. Our breaths mixed when we pulled away from each other. The TV was still playing noir movies. It didn't distract him, thank god.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

oh. shit.

I went wide-eyed and got off Michael immediately, my embarrassment now noticeable. Tracey stared shocked at her dad as I hurried behind her, grabbed my stuff and headed for the door.

"Y/N!"

"Tracey, angel.. listen."

"DAD! I can't fucking believe you! You're worse than Mom sometimes, Jesus!"

She stomped out into the backyard, so I took this opportunity to move away and go home. Thankfully, Michael didn't follow. Not until I got out the gate anyway. He stopped the car next to me and stared apologetically at me. "Just let me drive you home,"

Awkwardness filled the car, my bags in the back, and I was sitting in the passenger seat, looking out of the window. I refused to look anywhere but the window. I just couldn't look over to him. The man driving me home. The man who I was making out with a few minutes ago. Clouds went past quickly, and the bags were the only noise coming from inside the car.

The drive almost killed me inside it was so long. But we got there, eventually. Taking a deep breath, I just opened the door quickly, grabbed my stuff and closed the car door behind me.

He lingered.

"Don't linger, Michael..." I mumbled. The car window was open, and I knew he wanted to say something. My front door opened, my foot entered the hallway, and I didn't decide to look back. He stood there, by my front door. "I'm home now. Thanks.."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's my fault." I kept walking away, into the living room, but because he was in the doorway, I couldn't close it.

"Alright. But you know you can come back."

"I think Tracey's opinion of me has drastically changed. I doubt it." My mutters continued. I acted uninterested and bored. But I wasn't mad at him, not really.

"Just...come back soon okay?" The door shut. Finally. My chest felt less heavy now, so I almost slid my way into the kitchen.

A creak.

Not my footsteps. They couldn't be.

"Michael please.."

"I don't think anyone will realise."

We just stood there, staring at each other. "How about a smoke?"

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

The only tag today: @beetleblunt

#gta 5 #GTA V #michael de santa #michael de santa x reader #gta fanfiction #im such a simp #Michael de Santa x you #fluff #x reader fluff #suggestive #gta #grand theft auto v #might make a part 2 #big Michael simp help

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milligramspoison · 11 months ago

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No one asked for this lol but I was talking about it the other day- the killjoys essay I did for my junior year 🫶

Some little notes:

This is set in a world where the Fab Four faked their deaths after the events in Sing, hence why they’re here!

The characters Ghost Bullet, Cyanide Candy, Black Heart, Glitter Baby, Acid Cat, and Lighting Storm are ocs created by my best friend tumblr user @frankierosbackbends and myself!

Speaking of Cyanide, Ghost, Acid, and Storm, they’re based off of sims Niamh (@frankierosbackbends) and I created about 5-6 years ago, who you can meet here!

Annoyingly so, I live in Florida. By now, we all know Florida fucking sucks. This was written around the time the don’t say gay bill was passed. Being scared at the time, I hid the fact that Ghost and Cyanide are gay, which made me feel awful I had to hide that part of them. And I still feel awful about it. I was scared of any repercussion I could’ve faced, so while it’s know that they’re together, I hid the fact they were gay men. It still really annoys me almost 2 years later that I did this.

If it’s not great, it was for school lol. I would’ve done a lot more if I didn’t have school barriers around me

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stillness-in-green · 1 month ago

Note

What do you think about Horikoshi ending the manga without a canon couple? Do you ship or used to ship MHA characters? Did you see romantic potential? Do you think Horikoshi might confirm a couple later?

No canon couple? Au contraire, my dear anon! The manga ended with the most important canonization of all!

(Everybody give a huge hand to The Only Hets Who Matter, Gentle and La Brava; they deserve it.)

As to the ships people actually care about or were expecting some word on (e.g. the stuff with the students), my reaction there is overwhelmingly “lol gj hori”. I’m glad he ended it with no canon student couple to speak of! While I do sympathize with the position of certain people on Twitter who contend that Ochaco’s arc about repression really needed her to actually confess to Deku, I hated what her crush on Deku did to her arc anyway, so I don’t have it in me to be too annoyed. Anyway, I don’t think it’s possible to do the Iron Might 2.0 part of the epilogue if Deku and Ochaco[1] have been dating the entire time, so I’m perfectly happy to run with the headcanon that she did confess at one point and it didn’t work out for whatever reason, so by the time the last chapter rolls around, they’ve just been friends for years.

1: Or Bakugou, for that matter, but with all due respect to the BakuDekus who haven’t been seeing Shonen Jump battle manga come and go for twenty years with nary a confirmed gay MC amongst them, that was never in the cards.

I remember posting once ages ago about a Japanese fan’s hope that Horikoshi, who the fan perceived as being at least somewhat progressive about women, could manage to end the series without a bunch of timeskip romances showing up at the last minute. While I have some deep reservations about Hori’s progressive cred at this point in time, and am not tremendously impressed with his writing of women, either, credit where credit is due: he did end the series without any timeskip romances.

As to there being any confirmation of couples in the material we have remaining, I imagine the last train station[2] for that is going to be the final volume release in December, as, on top of the usual volume extras, Horikoshi should be considerably more free to include expansions that his schedule and exhaustion kept him from in the weekly publication. I could even see a bonus chapter of some sort, maybe something post-epilogue so we can see the power suit in action or something silly and fourth wall-breaking to celebrate the series conclusion. There’s also going to be one last fanbook released in January, which I have been assuming will be a data book like Ultra Archive.

2: Or harbor, I suppose, since we’re talking about ships.

Now, do I think any of that stuff will confirm ships? Eh, that’s not really in my analytical wheelhouse. The farthest I’d venture to guess is that I would a) not be surprised to get some clarification on Deku and Ochaco, and b) definitely peg the volume release to have material like that over squirreling it away in the fanbook.

For myself, my shipping habits are somewhat erratic—it’s not really where my primary engagement in media lies, and certainly not for this series! But that’s not to say I don’t have ships, or that I’m not happy to talk about them, so if you’re curious about that, do feel free to hit the jump. I’ll order them by general sphere first, then by how passionate I am about them compared to ones I just think are kinda cute or funny for whatever reason.

DISCLAIMER: While I have not explicitly stated as much here before, I am a 40-year-old asexual proshipper, proshipper here meaning I'm in favor of curating your own fandom space and not harassing people about their fictional ships under any circumstances. When I say I ship something, that does not mean I’m idealizing the relationship, want it to be canon, think it would be cool in real life, or am mentally putting myself in the place of one the characters. It’s solely because there’s something in the dynamic I think is fun or interesting, and “interesting” can very much include the same kind of interest one might have in watching a building get demolished.

That is to say, there are a handful of Too Problematic For Tumblr ships in here—one age gap but otherwise wholesome, one age gap and tacitly abusive, and one that really hits the Tumblr Trifecta by being age gap, abusive and incestuous. I've put all three at the very bottom in their own section in descending order of Most BadWrong, but if you’re one of those people deep into The Discourse about how ships need to be Morally Correct otherwise the shippers are terrible people who should kys, this is not the post for you. The block button’s there if you need it—and be advised that it’s there if I need it, too, and I’m not afraid to use it. (I grew up in dark fantasy shoujo fandoms; I am not litigating my ships with anybody.)

~~~Stillness’s Dubious and Delightful BNHA Ship Opinions~~~

Villain-o-rama-rama:

Spinarakiya, ShigaRD, Spinaraki: Alas for my short-lived OT3! I was really, really pumped for this in the stretch between MVA and the early stages of the first war, what with there being such interesting possible angles between all three parties, only for Re-Destro to get arrested and never seen in person again, Spinner to get snatched up by Gigantomachia and never look back, and Shigaraki to get lost to the possession plot for, at least as far as scenes with his allies were concerned, basically the rest of the series.

Not exactly great material for my shipping heart, though I’ll refrain from the rant comparing how long the PLF members were living in close contact with each other compared to the League of Villains and why that should have meant they developed stronger relationships than what we got.

But canon being what it is, I do still ship the hell out of these three in a canon divergence situation, or any number of potential AUs. I love the connective tissue there, with Re-Destro + Shigaraki having some startlingly strong background parallels and lasting injuries courtesy of each other, Shigaraki + Spinner having the gaming and the emptiness themes, and Spinner + Re-Destro having their Big Gay Feelings About Shigaraki as well as an appreciation for patterned fabrics some shared early frustrations about Shigaraki’s seeming lack of plans or direction.

It's a good dynamic, and I think they could all do a lot for each other, though certainly not in ways that are good for the continued survival of Hero Society. But fuck Hero Society anyway.

As to the component parts, I don’t ship Re-Destro and Spinner without Shigaraki being at least an invisible part of the dynamic (though I would read the fic where he wasn’t with considerable interest!), but I’m also very much on board with ShigRD and Spinaraki individually. My constant refrain about Shigaraki and RD is that they have a lot of common ground but very little common language, and I’m fascinated by how much of that they could recognize in each other and how much of it they could then recognize back in themselves, versus how much you’d get one of those cases of, “This guy is a freak and I’m so normal.”

It's so, so, so important to me that Re-Destro is the first ally Shigaraki won entirely on his own merits. He's got no borrowed reputation from Stain, no monsters on loan from Sensei, and no help from people on Sensei’s payroll, yet still, as a result of his efforts (both in his own fights and in making the League his own, even if it didn’t start that way) he wins himself an army and a follower who never saw a light that wasn’t his.

I weep for the Shigaraki/Re-Destro relationship we could have had if Horikoshi didn’t decide that Shigaraki in the endgame was to be nothing but a pawn, and therefore couldn’t be allowed to keep any of his markers of independence and growth.

As to Spinaraki, man, what is there even to say? The relationship so clear and obvious that it had even the mhatwt bros out there saying, “Spinaraki but at what cost?” in the last chapter! I will admit that I liked them better when their romance had that apocalyptic tinge than when it suddenly started getting painted as primarily about them being Gamer Bros, but at least that melancholic “beauty at the end of the world” shading came back when Shigaraki talked about destroying Mount Fuji for Spinner (be still my heart!).

They will meet and be close in every world and I will hear nothing else.

RiKoku: I don’t think I truly understood the appeal of ex-lover ships until these two. They snuck up on me in a big way, pretty much entirely a result of my realization when I was halfway through the (first and only, sadly) MLA Week event that Trumpet was pretty free-roaming and independent from Re-Destro all the way through Deika only to be glued to his side from there on out. Together with the Spinner parallels (the subordinates who fought each other and then came together to the crater to see their worlds remade) and my jokes about wanting to see the MLA heads during their stressed-out, over-achiever college years, all the pieces fell into place for a Rikiya and Koku who had dated for a few years and then broken up when Rikiya realized that his authority as Re-Destro—and Koku’s strong subordination to that authority—meant that he could not responsibly stay in the relationship. (This also presents several good explanations for why a man in Rikiya’s situation isn’t married with at least one child already.)

Anyway, to me, they never really fell out of love with each other; Re-Destro just couldn’t justify overlooking the power dynamic problems once he realized how extreme they were. (This does make for a fun alternate angle on RD’s personal life post-Deika, wherein Trumpet watches RD pass the mantle of leadership to Shigaraki Tomura and then more or less immediately pounces on him because now he doesn’t have the power dynamic excuse anymore. Look up the great Whatever Is Spared by @leftofrevolution on AO3 for more on this.)

Overhonest: I just like Nemoto much more than I like Chrono, and thus my Overhaul ship of choice follows suit. I like the idea that their feelings are wildly unbalanced but not totally one-sided—Overhaul has more baggage than a freshly loaded airport carousel, but he does like the Shie Hassaikai, as proven by them being mentioned in the Likes section of his character page. Nemoto in particular is someone whose presence we know Overhaul finds reassuring and we know it because he told Nemoto so directly when Nemoto asked, which means it can’t be anything other than the plain truth. He relies on Nemoto enough to make demands of him, he expects (and gets!) effectiveness, and he even bothers to take the time to justify out loud why it would be okay for him to merge himself with Nemoto physically (because Nemoto would say yes if asked, right? of course he would) rather than just doing it with no thought to Nemoto’s feelings about it because why should he care about that.

And Nemoto, for his part, is of course an obsessive weirdo who’s totally smitten with the first person he’s ever found who legitimately wants him around, so smitten that he’ll happily overlook the fact that Overhaul primarily wants him around because he’s useful.

Moving away from what’s on-the-page canon, I enjoy (and write) the take that Overhaul is sex-repulsed, not because he’s fully asexual, but as an extension of his mysophobia. This makes his sex life extremely fraught, but not non-existent. When I dabble with writing them (and they’re by far the ship I’ve written the most explicit material for in this fandom), I write him as basically a sex-repulsed demi (not that he would know or use that terminology!) who is attracted to Nemoto but has been largely left aggravated and sexually frustrated by their periodic experiments in non-traditional ways of getting him off. (Nemoto, for his part, is more than willing to keep trying! No kink is too weird for this guy if it means finding something Overhaul would actually like.)

(To get real here for a second, if Spinarakiya is meaningful to me as a person who’s comfortably poly, Overhonest is meaningful to me as an asexual person who's only ever had allosexual partners.)

AFOUji: Truly the Evil Husbands of all time. I wish the shift from Final Boss Shigaraki to Final Boss AFO hadn’t left Ujiko with a few truly inexplicable characterization beats,[3] because I truly do love these two as just the worst pair of mutually enabling monsters making the world worse and more dangerous for everyone while being 100% supportive of each other’s passions the entire time. Here’s to 70 years of Dark Lord/Mad Scientist domestic bliss.

3: For the record, I consider these to be his, “I've only been living for the boy's sake,” line in Chapter 269 and his clear reticence and dissastisfaction with Shigaraki getting the surgery in Chapter 240.

DabiSkep: Skeptic is the only man Dabi has ever thanked for his contributions. Dabi goes out of his way to kidnap him. I’m 90% convinced that they’d been working on the video together prior to the Villa raid. The combination of Skeptic’s deep and abiding neuroticism with Dabi’s swings between lazy malice and manic pushiness is extremely funny. What can I say; it’s just about the only Dabi ship that really clicks for me. I enjoy leftof’s take that Skeptic had a goth phase he never completely exited and so Dabi appeals to his inner Hot Topic teen, which he is 100% aware of and 150% embarrassed by.

School Environs:

Mirio/Tamaki: Tamaki literally regains consciousness at the exact moment Mirio loses his quirk. Other than cases where there’s some actual explanation for that—a magical connection, psychic powers, etc.—I have never seen that kind of beat happen outside of a shoujo manga. The bit where one romantic lead just mysteriously has a Bad Feeling in the same instant that something Bad happens to their love interest is so shoujo-coded. Jesus Christ, Tamaki is so moe. And Mirio so clearly thinks the world of him, too, as evinced by what an over-the-top sobriquet he dubbed Tamaki with. They’re great, end of story.

Monoma/Shinsou: I’ll admit I liked this somewhat better when I thought there was any chance at all Shinsou might end up in Class B—I kind of loathe that he wound up in Class A for the self-evidently terrible reason that it’s The Main Character Class, when it seems so obviously a conflict of interest for Aizawa to be teaching him. But eh, it’s okay; it just means Monoma will have to nobly learn to look past it after a lot of time spent being completely obnoxious about it.

My annoyance with Shinsou’s class placement aside, Monoma is one of my favorite students, and I like that he immediately latches onto Shinsou as a kindred spirit. And, like, if that were 100% one-directional, I would probably shrug it off, but Shinsou, despite trying to play at being aloof, does actually get invested enough that he gets pretty bothered by the idea of Monoma needing help, even in something as inconsequential as a class exercise. It’s just a much, much more interesting dynamic than Shinsou has with Deku or especially Kaminari.

Also, as someone with a bit of a Thing for mind fuckery, the way Copy and Brainwash can play off each other is Good.

MomoJirou: The fanart is cute and I like Momo better than Kaminari. And the culture clash thing is fun.

Shouto/Inasa: The fanart is cute and I like Inasa better than Deku or Bakugou.

Professional Sphere:

Hawksdeavor:The age gap adds flavor. The fact that Endeavor is still married but deeply unhappily so makes it even spicier. The difference in what they represent (or could potentially represent) to each other is the best part, with Hawks, for Endeavor, being someone who represents a totally clean page, while Endeavor, for Hawks, represents a lifelong adoration. Finding each other’s reality in all of that would be an interesting relationship arc and could be extremely fulfilling and strengthening for both of them.

The spoiler is (or at least should have been, if I’d been writing the series) their divided feelings on Dabi. Honestly, I really wanted to see them clash over the matter of Touya and how to deal with him, with Endeavor wanting to save him but not knowing how and Hawks just wanting him gone but not knowing how to get away with it. A certain pair of facts is glaring to me: first, that Hawks was a chief architect of the second war’s battle plans, whereas we never saw Endeavor involved with them at all, and second, that, when the big day came, Endeavor was slated to fight All For One with Hawks at his side despite at least some guilty protests from Enji that he really ought to be facing Dabi.

It smacks strongly of Hawks making some profoundly selfish decisions under the guise of clear-headed strategy and I really wanted it to blow up in his face when Dabi found his way to their battlefield anyway. Pushing Endeavor into a place where he had to choose between them and ultimately chose his son (say, by protecting him from an attack coming from Hawks) would have been validating for Touya, done a lot to lever Endeavor’s arc out of the reactiveness and passivity that drag it down so badly in the canon, and also handed Hawks a real consequence for how dismissively he treats the lives of Villains and how much he’s tried to avoid reckoning with both Endeavor’s abuse and Enji’s own attempts to do said reckoning!

In summary, Hawks and Endeavor could be very good for each other, and the incredible amount of baggage they’d have work through first would be key to either making that good ending feel earned or lead to them dramatically and deliciously imploding. Either one works for me, and either one, even without the romantic angle, would have been more interesting than the pablum we got.

NightMight: Speaking of could-have-been-good relationships that dramatically imploded! I love Sir Nighteye as the most visible cost of All Might’s lifestyle, the one he lost because he couldn’t step away from the path his ideals had set out, and how that ideal inevitably took him full circle so that he found himself standing, for Deku, in the same place Nighteye once stood for him. And of course by then it was too late and Deku wouldn’t listen to him anymore than he himself listened to Nighteye back then.

But Nighteye didn’t give up on caring about him, even if he had no avenue left to express it but throwing himself into finding a successor All Might would accept, which led to Nighteye's own (wonderful) relationship with Mirio.

Just great, difficult, adult stuff about irreconcilable differences that never stopped them from caring about each other even as those differences forced them to their parting of ways.

Mount Lady/Kamui Woods: They’re cute and I like the idea that they both have trouble, for opposite reasons, with cameramen. I like that he calls her just Lady when he thinks she’s in trouble. And not to put too fine a point on it, but I like that they’re kinda the most explicit Pro Hero couple and yet she’s the more prominent and important character with the more visible arc, which is a nice contrast to most of the other hetero relationships in this benighted manga.

Other/Cross-faction:

Togachaco: The yuri ship that could. My god, the canon divergence I want to give these two. You know why I want Deku and Ochaco to not be together in the end? Because I want Ochaco to realize that she did everything in her power to save her Villain while Deku—after all that talk on the cliff!—just killed his, and triggered Toga just before he left to do it, meaning Ochaco had a harder time with Toga than she might have otherwise.

But, I’m not here to talk about No. 2 Green; let’s talk instead about the canon divergence where Toga survives (shove that absurd death-via-blood-transfusion right into the incinerator) and then Ochaco has to come face to face with a system that does not want to let her be anywhere near as kind as she wants to be. The canon divergence where Ochaco realizes that her forgiveness is immaterial to justice, where she watches the system she fought to defend gear up to try Toga as an adult because Japan needs a scapegoat for the destruction of the war and all of the people who are actually most responsible are already dead or dying. Where Ochaco realizes that she has to do something drastic if she doesn’t want to live the rest of her life haunted by the knowledge that her compassion got a 17-year-old victim of emotional and psychiatric abuse executed by the state. The one where she decides to take a fucking stand, and it forces the rest of her class to confront that need as well.

“The cutest girl in the whole world,” my god.

Kotarou and Nao: I’m not as big on it by the time we’re seeing them in the Tenko flashback, though I certainly wasn’t pulling for some mean-spirited, allegedly feel-good “Nao slaps Kotarou and the whole family walks out of him” thing like you see in fanfic sometimes. No, what I really like with Kotarou and Nao is thinking about them when they’re both still young, in the stretch of years where they really think they'll be happy together. That her being with him can make all his problems go away, that him being able to bury his past and be better than all the people who hurt him (and there were so many people who hurt him) will be enough, that love is the answer to everything. Sure, the cracks are there, but they’re thin, and they can be hidden beneath all the days when things are good, when the two of them hold each other and feel safe and loved and sure.

The cracks are still there, and love isn’t enough when love becomes a band-aid and a blind eye. But the love is still there too, and it’s so fierce and so desperate, and it still won’t save them.

Sorry, everyone; they make me emotional. They are beautiful in the way of sparks dancing above flames, or early flowers blooming right before a vicious cold snap. Ah, me.

StainMight: GOD, All Might really needed to grapple more with Stain’s side of his legacy. Like, StainMight is really a victim of the way the story looked like it was setting up to criticize All Might’s methodology as well-intended but not sustainable long-term, but then, like every other aspect of the series that was about systemic critique, that criticism just evaporated and Stain became an All Might cheerleader with nothing to say about the system All Might supported for thirty years. Maddening! But for real, All Might should have been badly hurt in that car attack and then rescued by Stain, both to give Deku some stress about how All Might could be in danger after they parted on bad terms, and also to really make All Might have to sit with this opinionated zealot all-too-prepared to talk about how no one else is really living up to his example.

And there should be UST the whole time.

Yoichi and Kudou: I am almost entirely negative towards the OFA Collective these days, especially Kudou’s role in the endgame, but I still have some fondness for what he and Yoichi could have been. My god, the first One For All transfer really should have been because they kissed. More beautiful, more tragic, more profound, and preserves the Yoichi that had some actual fucking agency in the life he lived instead of just constantly being AFO’s or Kudou’s trophy princess there to talk about how respectively terrible and awesome they are.

TogaTsuyu: I just think it would be interesting if Tsuyu were actually allowed to be more present in the Toga plotline, rather than only arriving as a spoiler to avert major shifts every time. Toga says she likes Tsuyu, too, after all, and Tsuyu is so different from both Ochaco and Deku, so much more thoughtful and considered. I dunno, I just wonder how things might have gone if, for example, it had been Tsuyu that Toga managed to draw away in the Jakku fight. Given that side story with her snakey friend Habuko, evidence suggests that Tsuyu is a good deal more observant and intuitive than Ochaco, and I wonder if she might have been able to suss out what Toga was actually asking there better than Ochaco did, and how that might have changed things.

THE TUMBLR PROBLEMATIC ZONE:

Gentle Criminal and La Brava: I was willing to follow the canon’s initial vagary about these two, but I also like them quite a bit together, so if canon wants to put them in wedding rings at the end of the series, that’s fine by me! Yes, I’m aware that there’s a pretty significant age gap there, which would have been at its most apparent when she first sought him out, but I don’t for one single instant believe that he’d be anything less than a total gentleman to her. Indeed, it’d be entirely plausible to mount an argument based on his behavior that they were not at all romantically involved circa the Culture Festival arc,[4] and only become so after Gentle’s imprisonment and subsequent release. But in general, what I’m more concerned with is the dynamic—I regard a power differential in a relationship as a reason for both parties to be cautious and mindful of that differential, but not as an immediate game-ender.

4: Most obvious is that when she says, “I love you,” he only says things like, “Thank you,” in return.

In that sense, Gentle and La Brava are great—they click together perfectly and obviously make each other tremendously happy after a lifetime of rejection. La Brava, in Gentle’s theatrical attention-seeking, finds someone who accepts her overflowing way of showing love; Gentle, in living up to La Brava’s feelings, finds a reason for his skewed heroism beyond satisfying his pride. To whatever extent their life together was heading anywhere bad (and there’s no evidence of this at all save that Heroes were always likely to catch up to them eventually, making La Brava’svery extreme response to Gentle’s defeat likewise inevitable), Deku’s intervention got them off of that path and back onto one that let them be accepted by the world, which they seem to have capitalized on marvelously.

They’re the only Villains I can think of whose turn to Team Hero in the endgame works for me without any significant quibbles. Good for them! I hope they are so, so happy together, because they deserve it.

AFO and Kotarou: MEANWHILE, IN MY OTHER KOTAROU SHIP. I love AFO knowing Everything about what he’s doing here while Kotarou knows absolutely Nothing about what AFO is doing here. I love an AFO who is self-amused in being friendly and reassuring and distractingly attractive to Kotarou, an AFO who knows that his toying with Kotarou would make Shimura Nana sick with terror and rage, and even if she isn’t alive to be so anymore, the fantasy of it is satisfying enough, especially since Kotarou is himself a very handsome young man, one whose hurt and resentment AFO finds beguiling to sometimes prod at, as if unable to leave a bruise alone except the bruise isn’t on his own skin.

I have an AU I’m never likely to write where Kotarou winds up successfully knocking out Tenko on the night of the accident before going on the run with him, only for them to get picked up by AFO a few weeks later, and let me tell you guys, that’s where all my guilty pleasure AFO/Kotarou really lives.

That said, I liked this one much better before we got the opening for it in canon, and not just because AFO’s disguise persona was doofy-looking instead of devastatingly handsome. It was always one of those ships that tickled my inner hedonistic wickedness fancier but that I never wanted to be canon because my affection for the ship's vibe was not more important to me than the integrity of Shigaraki’s arc, and Shigaraki’s arc was far better served by his early childhood being as free from AFO as possible. Alas, the reveal is very AFOtarou but at what cost.

Dabideavor: Sorry not sorry everyone, but all the people screaming about how this is SICK FILTH seem to have missed the point that it is indeed, absolutely and completely, sick filth and that’s part of the appeal. Personally, I like it for two main reasons.

Firstly, I want Endeavor to have as hard a time as possible, and times don't get harder than this. I enjoy it when he's frozen and helpless in the face of the son whose life he destroyed because I have a long history of enjoying stoic male characters being made vulnerable through suffering.

Secondly, and more importantly, I like it because I like the version of Dabi you see in it, particularly compared to the Fanon Dabi who made so much League of Villains fan content un-fucking-readable for years.

I'm going to try to keep the hot fandom tea to a minimum here, limited to the upcoming footnote, but I hated Fanon Dabi.[5] He was an incoherent mash of a character designed to be a vehicle for the unabashed revenge fantasy of bloody murder against Bad Dads while also presenting no danger whatsoever of splash damage, a Woobie Big Brother who was completely harmless except to the father whose organs he was planning to paint the walls with. Every excuse that could be made, would be made, for Dabi's more questionable or even outright nasty moments, even if it meant minimizing or outright erasing the harm we saw Dabi do, right there on the page in literal manga monochrome.

5: There's a particular type of flanderization that goes into Fanon Dabi, the same kind of flanderization I saw attached to Steven Universe's Lapis Lazuli, and which informed the absolute umbrage certain people took with Rebecca Sugar for describing Spinel, the SU movie's villain, as toxic. There is a portion of fandom that loves abuse victims who get angry and lash out, but which will go absolutely ballistic at the slightest suggestion that abuse victims are themselves also capable of harm, that lashing out has the potential to hurt innocent people. In a perfectly executed DARVO, it becomes "victim blaming" to confront an abuse victim about the very real abuse they're inflicting on others. I only specified fictional characters here, but it's a dynamic you see in real life, too. Some people hunger for nothing so much as an acceptable target and abuse victims are not exempt from that statement.

The Dabi I thought was fun was the high-energy maniac who doesn't give a shit about anyone else getting caught in the crossfire of his revenge. Both that version of Dabi and the Endeavor who's paralyzed with guilt and despair are facilitated by Dabi’s father-obsession having a taboo sexual dimension to it that Dabi is all too ready to shove in the face of absolutely everyone who would think worse of Endeavor for it. That means Endeavor himself, of course, but also all the good little civilians who Endeavor keeps telling to watch him. Watch this, says Dabi, as he makes lewd hand gestures on force-streamed national television.

It's not about Dabi healing as an abuse victim, and it’s not about Dabi having a fulfilling arc—covering that stuff was canon's job! It's about the fact that I, for reasons both personal and related to fandom spite, am personally entertained by Dabi being pedal-to-the-metal deranged about doing whatever it takes to seize Daddy’s attention and never let him look away again, which also means acting to ensure that no one is capable of or willing to save Endeavor from that fate. Like, if you want someone who would spend ten years plotting the most agonizing possible way to torment his abuser, then it’s sophistry to suddenly declare some agonizing torments off-limits. Dabideavor is just committing to the bit.

#bnha #stillness answers #stillness ships #tw: incest #just discussion no depiction #it's the last one on the post

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