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sugarstickery · 3 years

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An Allegory Within the Dark

This is an unofficial fan translation of chapter 3 of Jujutsu Kaisen’s first light novel, Departing Summer and Returning Autumn by Gege Akutami and Ballad Kitaguni.

Summary: Mahito stumbles across an unusual human in his search for a place to call ‘home’.

Featured characters: Primarily Mahito, with brief appearances from Hanami and Jogo, along with an unnamed novel-only character

Timeline: An undefined time prior to the events of the Vs. Mahito arc

An Allegory Within the Dark

If you want to hide a tree, you go to the middle of a forest.

So if you’re looking to hide a person, you should go to the middle of a city.

Following that logic, it makes sense for curses worthy of being the true humans to set up their hideout in the city center.

Cursed spirits would actually have it much easier if they spent their time in places crammed with fear where humans and the like can’t live: deep in the mountains or in densely wooded areas, for example.

But for a group of curses plotting to overturn the current era, a base in the heart of the city is crucial for invasion and seeking refuge. That being the case, it’s also better to try aiming for a location with a high concentration of negativity.

Anyway, that’s how some employees from a scam business ended up massacred.

“This really is the simplest way to handle it. All of them nest together up here away from the public eye, so clean-up is a cinch.”

Jogo laughed while trampling the burning remains of a corpse underfoot.

Roughly two minutes ago, there were about six humans in the office.

The curses considered a few ways to handle dispatching them but ultimately decided that burning was the fastest, so Jogo quickly turned them to ash.

“But humans used this building, didn’t they? Won’t it be a problem if there’s property management or something?” Mahito asked, poking at an ostentatious vase displayed on a shelf.

Apparently the concern was unnecessary. Jogo tried to answer with a grin, but a nonsensical language cut into their conversation.

“⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⎎⍜⋏⏁ ⟟⌇ ☊⎍⌇⏁⍜⋔”

“Oi, bastard—! Stop talking, Hanami! It makes my head itch!”

Though Hanami spoke in nothing but meaningless sounds, the intention behind it was somehow transmitted directly into the minds of others. This was usually unpleasant and it irritated Jogo.

When he noticed Mahito still looking his way, Jogo continued to explain despite his frustration.

“Hmph... What? There’s no need to worry. I asked Geto what his aim was, and it looks like these were the kind of underhanded humans who got involved in plenty of unethical things.”

“Hm. So basically, other humans won’t actually come close if they get that curse stuff happens here.”

“Exactly. Any respectable, straight-laced human would never come near this place under normal circumstances. It’s the perfect city-center hideout.”

“Is it really?”

“...What is it, Mahito? You don’t seem satisfied. What’s there to worry about? It would put us in a great position to start preparing our plans for the city, and it’s great for a quick escape if we need one.”

“Mm... No, you’re right, but...”

“But what? Spit it out.”

“It’s just... This room is really tacky.”

“Huh?”

With a pop, a small eruption burst forth from Jogo’s head. His narrowed eye looked like a painting of a gently sloping mountain.

“It’s tasteless, isn’t it? Stuff like that gaudy gold lion in the sparkly jar or this cheap-looking sideboard.”

“What are you even saying?! I have no idea what’s gotten into you lately, but you’ve been so annoying!”

“Movies.”

“Movies? Are those overly-embellished portrayals of humans really that interesting?”

“They’re references for my studies on the structure of a soul,” Mahito replied with an ambiguous smile.

If humans could see him, they might be reminded of a proud elementary schooler discussing the knowledge they gained from a book report.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t find the stories that interesting either, but I don’t hate the sense of visual aesthetics that humans have. That said, this room has too many useless colors and really hurts the eyes.”

“Such bratty, selfish complaints... We can just burn or toss anything that’s an eyesore.”

“No need, I’m going to look for a place to settle down on my own.”

“What? Ah, hey— Where are you going?”

Not waiting for Jogo’s response, Mahito waved over his shoulder and vanished like smoke or a gentle breeze, off to who-knows-where.

“Geez… Maybe it’s because he was born from human fear, but even knowing he’s a curse, he tends to be way too frivolous. Watching movies and all…”

While grumbling out his complaints, Jogo took a pipe from his shirt pocket to put in his mouth.

Unlike human cigarettes, this wooden pipe somehow imitated a screaming face when smoked.

“But that Mahito...”

Jogo spun around to survey the room with his one eye.

“...He says that, but it doesn’t seem tacky to me.”

“⊑⏃⋏⏃⋔⟟”

“I already said shut up!!”

You can only find a hideaway that suits you by looking for it on your own.

Mahito wandered through the city with this in mind. He alternated left and right turns on a whim any time he happened across a traffic light, walked alongside stray cats, or sometimes simply went in the direction of clouds that he liked the shape of.

While traveling along his chosen path like this, he keenly felt just how laughable humans were.

Though the city belongs to them, no one walking in and out of it was more free than Mahito.

Everyone seemed constrained. They were captured by ties of obligation and vanity, living in a wide, deep, big city with such narrow outlooks.

Unaffected by the enormous sky sprawling out endlessly overhead, they box themselves into their concrete city with their own hands and limited perception of souls, passing the time by whittling their lives down further and further.

Mahito even learned the words for some of these human concepts to study later.

For example, they call it “morals”. They call it “common sense”. They call it “emotion”.

But a human soul isn’t anything more than the resulting mechanical movement that comes from external stimuli.

And so they let go of freedom and live tightly controlled lives, fearing the judgmental stares of others, stooping to flattery for society’s approval.

“...What a waste.”

Everyone is bound by ostentatious shackles of their own making.

That’s why these curses know there has to be a change, as far as humans go. Those who cannot do anything but crawl in such an unsightly way under the magnificent sky must hand over the world.

Mahito thinks. He ponders over any topic his soul turns toward. He walks wherever the wind blows him.

Before long, the time had come for the sun to descend in the western sky. He could hear the burbling of a river.

“Not bad.”

The hideaway Mahito found was under a bridge, across the river.

It was a tunnel, vacant and huge like a temple.

Pipes ran along the inside, clear water flowing from them and into the river. It looked like wastewater was drained here after being purified, so there wasn’t much discomfort.

Apart from the humid air and the moss that emitted a peculiar grassy smell, it seemed wide enough to splash and jump around in, and the concrete’s cool texture provided a refreshing welcome.

There’s a season that curses are partial to.

Negative human emotions accumulate from the end of winter to spring, and it could be said that the rainy season served as the so-called peak of their ripening.

The inside of the damp tunnel held the same atmosphere. There was a gloominess there in the dim lighting that could easily nurture fear. It gently moistened Mahito’s skin; he felt cozy.

“Yeah, let’s stay here.”

When choosing a place to live, it’s best to trust your instincts.

Perhaps humans should do the same, but what they can’t readily do, Mahito can decide without hesitation. If he’s free when he wanders, then he’s free when he settles down, too.

Mahito stepped into the tunnel in good spirits, knocking solidly on the concrete floor.

The soul’s metabolism smooths out in comforting spaces. But…

“Huh?”

After walking a short distance, Mahito discovered “that”.

He initially thought it was some garbage or something that a human illegally dumped. But before long, it became clear that it was a sack-like silhouette leaning against a wall.

At first glance, it perhaps looked like a mere collection of rags.

But the shape of a soul was there.

—Ah, it’s alive.

Yes, just as Mahito had realized, it was a human.

The tattered clothing and wildly overgrown hair and beard hid his shape, but it was undoubtedly a human.

His exact age wasn’t clear from his outward appearance, but whether he was 60 or over 80, he looked elderly.

Mahito thought it was a bit of a pain.

There was already a visitor living in his precious hideaway.

Of course, taking care of this issue would be an easy matter for him. But he felt the same discomfort as a homeowner finding a stain on the wall of their new house.

‘Anyway, if I’m gonna deal with this, let’s get it done,’ Mahito thought, reaching out toward the old man with a little sigh.

Whereupon, unexpectedly, the old man spoke.

“...I’m sorry if you’re displeased.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what you came here to do, but... I’m sure your mood has soured after stumbling across the home of an old fool. But I have nowhere to go, either.”

Mahito was a little taken aback.

The old man was clearly aware of Mahito and turned toward him to speak. This wouldn’t be surprising at all if he was talking to a fellow human.

But Mahito is a curse.

The eyes of a mere human can’t clearly perceive cursed spirits.

It isn’t impossible, though. If humans are born with cursed energy, it isn’t unusual for them to be aware of the existence of curses.

What caught Mahito’s attention was this old man’s lack of ‘eyes’.

As in, he had no eyes in the physical sense. Instead, in the empty sockets that once held them, there was a burn scar that was painful just to look at.

Even sorcerers rely on their eyes to view the world.

They depend on their field of vision to spot cursed spirits. That’s why so many of them use sunglasses and the like to conceal their line of sight, as it helps them remain unaffected. It also helps them maintain a balanced mind when their daily life overflows with curses.

However, that was not the case for this old man.

“Can you see me?”

When Mahito asked, the old man answered with a gentle nod.

“At the very least, I can feel you.”

“But you can’t see the world?”

“Naturally. That includes the scenery, what you look like, what color your skin is, and even your gender. Even so... I know you’re there.”

“...Are you a sorcerer?”

“Most likely not.”

“You’re being pretty vague, even though you’re talking about yourself.”

“For a long time, that’s what I’ve been the most vague about.”

Mahito began to notice something strange.

He can feel the shape of a human’s soul.

He knows the movement of a soul’s metabolism, whether it takes on a harsh form, withers weakly, or flickers with liveliness.

However, this old man’s soul was hardly metabolizing.

It was like a meadow with no wind, or a still sea, or the blue sky on a cloudless day.

No, it would be most appropriate to compare it to a stone.

His soul was like a stone on the side of the road.

No fancy ornamentation, no polishing. Unmoving, unwavering.

Calmly passing the time while growing moss.

That was the shape this old man’s soul had.

No matter how calm or how old a person is, the human soul always flickers.

As the years stack up, common sense doesn’t disappear, selfishness isn’t eliminated, and fear isn’t conquered.

But this old man was different.

The old man’s soul was at peace. He had sincerely accepted that everything would decay with time, but that didn’t mean he would throw his life away. It was truly similar to the way in which nature existed.

It was Mahito’s first time meeting anyone like this.

For a while, the tunnel became something of a den for Mahito.

He had gotten a hammock from somewhere, which he hung up between the pipes. He lounged in it and read, passing the time in comfort.

In a movie about life on a deserted island, a human who was desperate to survive made a hammock. Through it, he was able to regain a little peace of mind.

Since it looked surprisingly comfortable, Mahito gave it a try and it worked out nicely.

The arguments and fights of the outside world didn’t reach the inside of the tunnel, where only the burble of the small stream could be heard.

It provided a good environment for soothing the soul.

While leisurely absorbing new knowledge from his books, Mahito would sometimes absentmindedly gaze up toward the ceiling, or glance down at the corner where the old man squatted, looking as he always did.

“How do you live like this? It’s pretty mysterious...”

In the end, Mahito didn’t kill the old man.

It’s important to note that the old man wasn’t much of a hindrance for him. If it would make no difference whether he was there or gone, then Mahito figured getting rid of him would be more of a hassle.

The old man was just there, even quieter and more carefree than a stray cat.

Mahito knew the phrase: ‘man is only a reed, but he is a thinking reed’.

He found it hilarious and also genuinely liked it. It simultaneously boasted about being trapped in thoughts of the soul, while also showing that humans were frail as weeds.

It could be said that the old man was an unthinking reed, then.

No – he was even quieter than that; more like grass or some type of moss. In any case, the old man said nothing and simply carried on living.

Every now and then, the old man would suddenly shuffle off elsewhere, but he would be back to sleep before Mahito knew it. He was surely getting food from somewhere, but he never seemed to gain weight. If he lost any while in the tunnel, he would eat just enough to gain it back when he left, and no more.

It was a style of living so close to nature that it seemed more like a phenomenon than a life.

“That’s why I seriously wonder if you can see me.”

The suspicion was uttered suddenly.

Mahito wasn’t exactly speaking to the old man. Rather, his tone was that of someone talking to themselves.

But when he noticed that the old man’s soul didn’t waver even after hearing him speak, Mahito finally addressed him directly.

“How long have you been here?”

“Let’s see… I think a few winters have passed, but I’m not sure,” the old man muttered, his reply quiet.

Since they were two beings with souls who were aware of each other’s existence, Mahito felt it would be more natural to chat every now and then.

“Don’t you get bored?”

When spoken to in a soft tone, the old man also responded softly.

“I’ve forgotten how to be bored.”

“How do you usually pass the time here?”

“I don’t do anything, really. I just listen to the sounds.”

“The sounds?”

“The sounds of the water flowing.”

“...Is it fun?”

“It’s not. But I forgot how to have fun a long time ago, too, so it’s not an issue.”

So it was like that. Mahito nodded.

If this old man could no longer even feel the pain of boredom, perhaps his soul was worn down.

Humans of the city gasp and struggle through the hurt of not having enough, yet always wish for more even when they get what they wanted. Their souls grew fat and tattered through the rich accumulation of these negative feelings.

So in that regard, from Mahito’s point of view, the old man had a thin soul – but it could be said that was clever of him.

A fat and full human soul leads to a fear of losing the gratifying present moment, which in turn gives birth to curses.

“It’s hard to get your attention. What’s your name?”

When Mahito asked, the old man looked into the air for just a second.

“I left that behind. You can call me whatever you like.”

“There are humans without names? Even curses have them.”

“If you don’t meet other people, you don’t need a name.”

“Isn’t it a problem if you don’t have one?”

“When is it a problem?”

“When it’s time to be buried.”

“I don’t need a gravestone with a name. I can just be stuffed into a common grave, or maybe I’ll rot undiscovered and return to the earth that way.”

“Can’t you take a joke?”

“…Was that a joke?”

The old man didn’t laugh. Neither did Mahito.

But Mahito had the feeling that this old man was childish, contrary to his appearance. His lack of attachments created an unsullied disposition that might make him younger than he looked.

His interest in the old man simmered and surged.

It was his first time seeing this type of human, his first time feeling a soul with this form. For Mahito, this was a rare specimen.

What kind of path must life take to make this kind of human? What would be the most intriguing shape to make with a soul like that? What uses could one plan for such a person?

And what kind of curse would be born from them?

With these questions fueling his curiosity, Mahito started to chat with the old man.

“Why are you here?”

“…Why?”

The old man looked up toward the ceiling through his unruly bangs.

His eye sockets were empty, but it seems like even without sight, humans tended to stare into nothing when they were thinking. One curiosity of Mahito’s was satisfied.

“You weren’t born and raised in this tunnel, right? As a human, you must have been in that noisy city.”

“Ah, that. I lived a fairly busy life a long time ago. I inherited the house, worked, made money and supported my family.”

“So you were a human in a pretty good position.”

“In human society, yes. Looking back on it now, it was all meaningless.”

“So... what, you basically started living in a hole like a mouse, then?”

“I did that because I lost everything that I needed up to then. I lost my social status, my money, and a place where I belonged.”

“You lost it all?”

“I was tricked. That’s when my eyes were burned, so I lost my sight then, too.”

Mahito incidentally recalled the company Jogo attacked.

“You got tricked, huh? You seem pretty good-natured about it.”

“That’s because I didn’t care much about being tricked.”

“You’re a weird old man. Is this some kind of hobby where you get your kicks when people deceive you or something?”

“I’m just saying, that’s the kind of person I was back then. The ones who tricked me were my old friend and my wife. My eyes were burned in that so-called “accident”¹; they claimed I wasn’t of sound mind and body after that, and under the guise of caring for me, they stole everything I worked for before I knew it.”

“That’s a pretty flashy way to trick someone, isn’t it? You’re talking like it’s someone else’s problem.”

“Those two loved each other, and I was loved by no one. Knowing that was more monumental to me than being tricked.”

It was hard for Mahito to interpret what the old man said.

Love. Is it really such an important word?

It’s said that curses born from love exist in the world. It seems there are tremendously powerful ones among them, too. But Mahito doesn’t understand how the mechanism by which people love each other is any different from a cat’s attachment to a blanket.

Still, Mahito knows for a fact that people are obsessed with it.

“Didn’t you curse them? The ones who tricked you.”

“Not really.”

“’Not really’, huh. You know, normally a human in that situation would get angry and hold grudges, and it would make the shape of their soul deteriorate.”

“It’s true, though. I don’t think I had the energy to even consider seeking revenge or hurting them.”

“...I get it.”

Mahito nodded, filling in the blanks.

Regardless of whether or not he can guess the trends in human emotion, Mahito has studied many movies, novels and poetry so far.

Then there were the humans he tinkered with. Mahito could put together the pieces he gleaned from those things and use them to break down the old man’s story.

“So basically, you were in despair. So much despair that it was like your soul was about to die. That’s how you broke through the creation of grudges and curses and ended up like this.”

The old man slowly shook his head.

“I may have been disappointed, but I don’t believe I felt the intense despair you’re thinking of.”

“Are ‘disappointment’ and ‘despair’ different?”

“They are; this is just my personal experience.”

The old man raised his face, following the memories.

“There was no burning resentment or turbulent sorrow. It’s just... I was tired, I guess. Between work, assets, reputation, my life situation and duties, dealing with others, caring about the family name... I think I was probably just tired and worn out because of it all.”

“And that’s why you didn’t get mad even after being tricked?”

“I was at peace. They say the soul gets lighter after going through disappointments.”

The old man’s voice was calm.

It had a cool quality to it, like muddy water that had been filtered clean.

“I couldn’t see, I had no money, I had no love... But as I was walking through the city with nothing to my name, it all suddenly became inconsequential. And then, as I looked around, I saw the city in a new light.”

“Even though you can’t see?”

“Yes. When you can’t see anything, it’s just sound and wind that goes on forever anywhere you are. I couldn’t even see the walls blocking the city in. It was just endless darkness spreading out forever, like a starless night. For the first time, I understood how wide the world was. And I thought to myself... ah, I’m free, aren’t I?”

Mahito blinked rapidly.

This old man’s thinking didn’t fit any other case he had gathered so far.

Even hearing about his past, he couldn’t understand the old man’s thoughts.

But even from Mahito’s point of view, the old man was certainly free.

Without so much as leaving the middle of this tunnel, he knew that the sky was vast.

Perhaps he knew it better than any member of high society walking around freely in the city. He knew the wide spread of the sky, the soft caress of the wind, the gentle sounds of the water.

This old man, who looked like a simple rakugoka², had no property or social standing. He even lost his connection to other humans... And maybe that’s precisely why he could uncover the elusive meaning of the word ‘freedom’.

He was just existing, just being alive, without attachments, grudges or curses.

“So basically ‘not all those who wander are lost’?”

“Yes, though quoting Tolkien’s works might be a little tedious.”

Mahito smiled when the man immediately caught the reference to a book he just happened to read.

“Were you a bookworm?”

“All I did was cram a lot of information in.”

“It’s good to be well-read.”

If curses are born from the fear that humans feel, could this old man even be considered human?

As Mahito is, he struggles with the expression of human emotions.

But he was calm.

For the first time since coming into contact with humans, he had a feeling of peace.

“I think if everyone in the world was like you, I wouldn’t have been born.”

Mahito looked back at his book.

The old man, staring into nothing as always, fell silent again.

Curses are born from humans, but they also kill humans. There is no way for the two to coexist.

But in this tunnel, a curse and a human were doing exactly that.

Though distorted, this peaceful period of time flowed by gently.

It’s only natural for humans to hate and fear other humans.

Since they can’t see souls, they can only make guesses about the feelings of others, and they’re swayed by their own emotions.

They don’t understand that these things are just a reflection of the soul’s metabolism. They don’t even know where their soul is.

Mahito investigated the matter.

This blind man lost his sight and his connection to others, so his soul received less stimulation.

And so, no longer influenced by unnecessary things in the physical world, he spent a lot of time facing his inner world and reflecting.

“It’s kind of like a monk’s training. Through strong introversion, a person looks at their soul more often.”

Mahito walked around the city, skimming through a beaten-up copy of the Heart Sutra.

It was a sutra handbook that focused on controlling the soul. It looked like humans of the past did their own research into freeing the soul from the material world.

The old man’s life ended up in a similar state without him setting out to do it on purpose.

That was likely how he learned to feel other souls through the darkness he lived in. Mahito concluded this was the reason he was aware of curses.

“I think he was already predisposed, but... seems like it’s easier for introverted humans to show promise.”

If he gave the old man’s situation even deeper consideration, he could probably make a lot of guesses about a sorcerer’s training. There’s even a way to encourage the first manifestation of cursed energy.

In that case, it should also be possible to take a talented person and ‘make’ them into a sorcerer or curse-user.

Unleashing a curse-user made by a curse onto a sorcerer...

That might be a fun experiment. It’s easier to shake up a human’s soul by having them fight other humans, rather than just exorcising curses. Sukuna’s vessel should be no exception.

Although...

—Maybe it’s fine to do that a little later?

Yes, Mahito thought it over at his leisure.

He is free. When it’s time to move, he moves. When it’s time to rest, he rests.

And he was not in the mood to launch that plan into action.

Rather, for the time being, he just wanted to gather knowledge and indulge in thought. He also got some new books and wanted to read fantasy novels while basking in the quiet comfort of the tunnel.

Mahito’s gait became lighter. While walking alongside the throng of people, he even began to hum.

Suddenly, a loud voice rang out from between two buildings.

“—so damn annoying, yeah?”

Looking over that way, he saw two young humans: a man with long, thin hair, and a muscular skinhead. They were undoubtedly people who looked like trouble.

The long-haired man listened as the skinhead rambled on with his complaints, seemingly in some kind of sullen mood.

“Damn, it’s seriously freezing. Anyway, every last one of ‘em just puts on shitty airs, but it’s all just talk. Nothin’ but excuses. Ah, I wanna kill ‘em all...”

“You say that, but come on. You talk big about wanting to beat these guys to death when you’re pissed, but could you actually kill someone?”

“Sure. Ain’t like killing’s hard.”

“Seriously?”

Mahito squinted and listened, the conversation going in one ear and out the other.

It’s not that he disliked the way they acted or how they spoke bluntly about their heart’s desires. But Mahito knew people like this were all talk.

“Yeah– seriously, anyone’s fine, I just wanna kill someone.”

Then maybe you should do it without saying anything.

Better yet, he thought about practicing some killing methods on them. But Mahito felt the light weight of the book in his hand as he reached out, and he stopped.

Rather than sparing any consideration for this, he just wanted to go back to the comfort of the tunnel and read.

“I’ll kill ‘em.”

The skinhead’s grumbling voice sounded like a spell.

But the words would find no power or heart to shelter in. Shut away between these buildings, the most a person can do is talk to themselves. It’s best for humans like this to stick to the narrow back alleys, foolishly thinking they’re enjoying a wide world.

Mahito averted his gaze and made his way back home.

“Why did Gregor become a bug?”

Mahito suddenly asked the old man, not taking his eyes off the novel.

It was a famous book by Franz Kafka.

A story in which a human unexpectedly turns into a poisonous insect.

“The most popular theory is that the bug is a metaphor.”

“Metaphor?”

“It means he was a person who was hated and oppressed within society, treated the same way a human would treat a bug. Kind of like an old man who was suddenly blinded and tricked one day.”

“Is that a joke?”

“Not exactly.”

It was detached and dispassionate, but an answer would come back any time Mahito said something. When conversing with the old man, it felt like talking to a dictionary. He had a lot of information.

He knew about things like the inner workings of the mind and human culture, and he was smart enough to explain it simply in discussions.

For Mahito, who analyzed human souls through books and movies, this old man’s knowledge and conversation helped in its own way.

When do humans get angry? Why do they grieve?

How do they trust and in what ways are they betrayed?

Mahito lived with a different sense of ethics when compared to humans, so there were many things he struggled to interpret. The old man explained them and helped him understand.

He had a strong interest in the experiences of the old man, who had once lived among humans but didn’t act like them.

“After becoming a bug, Gregor eventually hid away like he was told to, but he still ended up being spotted and it led to his death. Jii-san³, why do you think that is?”

“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”

“That’s a quote from Virginia Woolf, right?”

When Mahito immediately and correctly guessed the source, the old man raised a brow slightly.

“You’re a pretty avid reader, too. Conversations with you are really stress-free.”

“Do you have to go back to living with other humans, then?”

“If you don’t have any attachment to the human world, there’s no need to run from it or stand against it⁴.”

“I see,” Mahito murmured to let the other know he was listening, eyes still on the book.

Even if he wasn’t looking at it, the old man’s perpetually calm soul was aglow in the dark like always.

Mahito read his book in the dim room lit by the brilliance of that soul instead of a candle.

Time quietly flowed through the darkness.

Outside of the tunnel, signs indicating the end of summer crept up.

The end came abruptly.

One day, when Mahito was heading back to the tunnel with an abandoned poetry anthology that he picked up on an aimless walk through the city, he felt a noisiness that shouldn’t have been there.

There were one, two, three swaying souls.

One had a very familiar shape, but it was terribly frail. It was like the dying flame of a candle weakened by the wind.

With the same unchanging gait as always, Mahito stepped into the tunnel.

As expected, the old man was there.

But the unusual thing was the crumpled, strange position that he was in.

He was also sandwiched between two younger men who were looking down at him.

“Oooi, isn’t this bad? Did this guy seriously die?”

A man with long, thin hair spoke in a tone that was not particularly anxious.

“Didn’t I say it? I said I could kill,” a muscular skinhead replied, his voice casual.

“But ain’t this just impulsive?”

“Yeah, well, the old man had some real cheek, looking down on us when he’s this weak. So why not just kick him?”

The skinhead likely played sports, given that his legs were as thick around as logs. Kicking an old man to death would be easier than crushing a can.

The two didn’t seem to have a single scrap of interest in the old man, his life or his soul.

There was no reason, no grudge, no clear murderous intent.

It seemed like they simply arrived at the tunnel somehow. They took the opportunity to do as much violence as they wanted. They beat him on a whim.

It could be said that this way of being is freedom for humans.

Mahito crouched down, peeking at the old man’s face.

The beaten visage of the man with burned eyes came into view. But even at a time like this, his expression was as calm as always.

“Are you going to die?”

Mahito searched for even a mumbled word or two in response.

“...Seems so...”

The old man answered in a hoarse voice. He likely barely had the power left to speak now. It appeared as though the two men didn’t hear him over their loud conversation.

He intently inspected the old man’s soul.

The peaceful soul was not flickering, nor did it hold anger or grief; it was simply coming to an unhurried end.

Mahito was impressed.

This old man had found the true meaning of freedom. He really was released from every tie of obligation in this world. Even on the verge of death, that didn’t change.

Being able to make sure of that with his own two eyes, Mahito felt considerably relieved. In the same way he would watch a flower wither and fall, he observed the old man’s death.

Nevertheless...

“Jii-san?”

He had a feeling.

It’s like seeing a plot twist you don’t want to see if you keep turning the pages of a book.

Or like knowing the contents of a present before you open it.

That kind of buzz spread through Mahito’s chest.

While he puzzled over the instinctive alarm bells screaming at him to stop watching, everything was heading toward its end.

“...I thought I would die alone.”

The old man’s soul dimly flickered.

A smile was on his swollen face.

“...To have someone... here to witness this old fool’s last moments...”

The flicker might have been insignificant, like a single drop breaking the water’s surface. Even so, for an instant near death, at the end of it all...

The old man’s soul ‘metabolized’.

“...Tha...nk... y...”

The old man died smiling.

“. . .”

Mahito’s eyes opened wide, and for a moment, he was frozen.

He thought the old man was different when compared to other humans. To Mahito, he seemed unfettered.

Mahito thought the unique philosophical views stemming from such an extraordinary state of mind had freed him from all the shackles of this world.

But despite all of that, the old man was still captured right in his last moments.

On the brink of death, he clung to someone else so he could avoid a lonely end.

The old man was only human.

For a human, it was likely satisfying enough. Perhaps it was even the proper way for one to die.

“. . .”

Mahito said nothing.

But what felt like a dry wind blew through his chest, leaving him cold.

He didn’t know the name humans gave that emotion. But his consciousness was like yarn tangling in on itself, wriggling around like a worm—

And suddenly, it all cut off at once.

The only thing left behind was the sensation of standing in a dry and barren wasteland.

“—So basically,” the skinhead’s voice echoed. “Police probably won’t do a proper investigation. Not for this old nobody.”

“Hey, hey, hey; that’s still a person,” the long haired man answered lightly.

“Yeah, well, that guy started it.”

“He shoulda looked at who he was talking to before he picked a fight.”

“Anyway, my pants are dirty from all that kicking... That’s a problem.”

“So fussy. That’s what you’re worried about when you just killed a guy? How funny.”

“That ain’t a person. Anyway, don’t you know I like being clean? Ahh, the blood won’t come off... Water doesn’t do any good, right?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t – but more importantly, if you’ve settled down, I’m hungry. Let’s stop by a convenience store.”

“I dunno. If you’re gonna look, buy a bento and let’s get outta here.”

Mahito quickly stood up in the same way one would when they finished looking for something in a store.

A sense of fatigue was deeply ingrained in his body.

Their incoherent voices persisted, reverberating through the tunnel, smeared with excuses and attempts to escape reality. He couldn’t hear the soft burble of the stream.

With deep-seated listlessness, Mahito approached the skinhead as one would move to pick up fallen trash.

Idle Transfiguration. The technique spreads quickly.

And thus, the moment he tapped the man’s back, its shape was no longer human.

“Ee—!!”

If he just killed them, it would create a nuisance in the form of a corpse, so he simply folded it up into something palm-sized and kept it alive.

Then, with a careless sweep⁵ of his hand, he folded up the other man as well.

“Begh—”

It fell silent.

Mahito gathered up the two, now no bigger than chess pieces, and turned his attention down toward the remaining corpse of the old man.

It was now just a bag of meat full of bones. Not even the soul remained, so he couldn’t use Idle Transfiguration to fiddle with it.

He was briefly troubled by its disposal, which served as the biggest inconvenience.

In the tunnel, there nothing but the sound of running water.

It was a day where the sky seemed farther away than usual.

Clouds peeked out from around the buildings and a good feeling was carried in on the wind.

Mahito aimlessly walked about the city.

“Maybe I’ll catch a movie. It’s been ages.”

He picked a tiny, somewhat old-looking theater and snuck in.

He’s had high motivation lately, and it seemed like some unnecessary things had peeled away from his soul, leaving him more carefree than ever.

Thanks to that, he had also begun to toy with humans more often.

If he can fold a person up and make them small, he wanted to test out inflating one instead, but he slept on the idea overnight. It was pretty fun, but he knew that he was getting too absorbed. He also felt that carrying on with too much persistence wasn’t a good thing.

A change of pace every now and then was fine, too.

He hadn’t closely checked to see what was being screened. It was mostly just plain and obscure movies, but if one went in with no expectations, they might come across a surprisingly interesting tale.

Curiously, he had that kind of a feeling.

While walking through the hall of the theater, he casually felt through his pocket, which had grown bulky with the ‘small humans’ that he had touched.

—Speaking of which, he thought that was a nuisance.

He carelessly tossed some of them away.

Opening the door, he stepped into the theater.

Perhaps because it was a weekday, there weren’t many customers. The silhouettes of what appeared to be students filled out a few seats here and there.

From where Mahito stood in the corner, he had a good view of the screen.

Soon, instead of a curtain raising, the theater was engulfed in darkness.

T/N: [1] In this sentence, the implication is that the “accident” was very much orchestrated by the old man’s friend and wife, who burned his eyes somehow and then merely made it look like an accident [2] The rakugoka is the storyteller in rakugo, a form of (often) comedic theater that relies solely on spoken word from the rakugoka, who only uses a fan and hand towel as props [3] A way of referring to old men in general, basically like “gramps/grandpa”; Mahito never calls him by an actual name [4] Essentially, the old man’s saying that he (or anyone) can exist parallel to human society without interacting if they have no attachments to it and can still find peace, contrary to the Woolf quote [5] Kanji reads sweep, furigana reads cleanse (the same word for exorcism that sorcerers use)

Thanks as well to Pixi for help with editing and tl checks! If an officially translated version of the novel becomes available in your country, please consider purchasing it, or consider buying a copy of the original novel in Japanese if possible!

#jujutsu kaisen #mahito #mahito jujutsu kaisen #mahito jjk #jogo jjk #hanami jjk #jujutsu kaisen light novel #translation #departing summer and returning autumn

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starshine583 · 3 years

Text

New Girl on the Block (7)

(I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter! Feel free to check out the mini series connected to this fic called Journal Entries. I will warn whoever reads it that I’m not sure how long I’m going to keep it up, though.)

Ch.1 / Ch.6 / Ch.8

Chapter 7: That Happy Glow

“This is gonna be so much fun, Tikki!” Marinette exclaimed as she slid on her light pink flats. “I can’t wait to get to the aquarium!”

“Don’t forget your purse!” Tikki reminded, zipping around her chosen’s head. “I want to see some of the fish too!”

Marinette laughed and reached for her coat. The weather had been reported to drop over the weekend, and she didn’t want to take any chances. “Of course! I’ll make sure to pack some cookies for you too.”

When Felix told her last Monday that Adrien came to Rosemary looking for her, She’d been understandably distraught. Dupont had been given strict instructions to keep her new school’s name a secret, yet her old classmates were still coming to talk to her. It left many questions that needed to be answered. For example, how did they find out? Did Bustier tell them? Felix had mentioned that a girl was the one to give Adrien the information, though that hardly narrowed down the suspect list. Was Adrien the only one who knew? If not, were her other classmates going to try to come for her too? She’d asked her mother about it as soon as she got home, and as expected, Sabine flew into a rage.

“I send my daughter to a new school to get her away from her old classmates, and what do they do? They follow her there!” She’d fumed. “Unbelievable.”

Once Marinette talked her down from calling the police to file for harassment, they called the school, and Mme Bustier insisted that they’d been tight lipped about Marinette’s new school, but Marinette didn't buy it. Who else could have told Adrien? No one knew about her attending Rosemary, not unless Nathalie managed to find the information, and that was highly unlikely.

Although the situation was a mix of frustrating and worrisome, Marinette took comfort in the fact that Adrien seemed to believe she wasn't actually attending Rosemary. At the very least, he hadn’t stopped by again- as far as she knew -and hadn’t visited the bakery again either.

A small sigh passed her lips at the thought of how close she'd come to exposing herself as a Rosemary student. Thank goodness Felix had been out there to greet Adrien instead. His quick thinking had really saved her, and he even offered to give her a ride home afterwards. (For the second time) She never intended on asking Felix for help with things like this- mostly because she didn't want to bother him -but it was good to know she could depend on him when she needed to. Not only did he help her with Adrien, she also noticed him trying to keep others around her during the day after everything blew over. Allegra would order lunch with her more. Claude would join her to go to the lockers more. Allan would walk her to classes that they didn't have together. Things like that. Felix even offered to accompany her himself on a few occasions. It was a sweet gesture, and although the extra attention wasn’t necessary, it was greatly appreciated. Maybe she should make him a little thank you gift. What sort of things does he like again? Books and chess.. and silence.. how could she make a gift out of that?

Either way, Marinette couldn't thank him enough for his kindness, and now that six days of blessed silence has passed, the nervousness from the Adrien encounter was replaced with giddy enthusiasm for the aquarium. She buzzed around her bedroom to finish getting ready, putting on her scarf and earmuffs as quickly as she could. Allegra was supposed to come pick her up, but they were all going to meet up and walk into Aquarium de Paris together. She didn’t want to hold anyone up.

Marinette wrapped her purse around her shoulder, finally finishing her outfit, and bounced over to the trapdoor to go downstairs. Allegra should be arriving in about five minutes. That gave her just enough time to snag a few cookies for Tikki, a croissant for herself (and maybe Claude), and say goodbye to her parents.

“Goodmorning, sweetheart!” Sabine greeted warmly.

“Morning, Maman!” Marinette smiled, briefly pausing to let her mother kiss her on the forehead.

“Did you have a good sleep?” Tom asked, holding out an arm to her.

Marinette let out a nervous chuckle as she gave him a side hug. “Yes and no. I was kind of too excited to sleep.”

“You and me both.”

Marinette turned to one of the small tables in the bakery to see Allegra sitting with a smile and a cup of coffee. She was bundled up too, which told Marinette that she was probably right to put on her winter clothes.

“You’re already here?” Marinette asked, panic briefly seizing her chest. She looked around for the time. “How long have you been waiting? Am I late again?”

Allegra chuckled and stood up to pull Marinette into a hug. “Not at all! I just happened to get here a few minutes early, and your parents offered me a coffee while we waited for you to come down.”

Marinette relaxed a bit and hugged Allegra back. “You could have come upstairs to get me.”

“I didn’t want to rush you.” Allegra shrugged. “Besides, your parents are fun to talk with!”

Tom and Sabine both smiled and straightened with pride, causing Marinette to giggle.

“Here,” Tom said, taking a brown, paper bag out from under the counter. “We packed some breakfast for you.”

“And made sure to put plenty of croissants in for Claude and the others.” Sabine added with a smile.

Marinette took the bag with a sincere “thanks”. That saved her time on sneaking around for snacks.

“Oh, Claude is going to love those.” Allegra smirked, touching the bag to feel how warm it was.

Marinette giggled and nodded in agreement. It’s been almost three weeks since she started at Rosemary, and Claude still asks for croissants every lunch period. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yep! My driver’s waiting out front for us.” Allegra replied, tilting her head in the direction of the door.

“Have fun, you guys!” Sabine cooed.

“Make sure to take plenty of pictures with the fish!” Tom added with a wave.

“We definitely will.” Allegra beamed, looping her arm with Marinette’s.

With a final wave, they stepped outside together, and Marinette sharply inhaled as the chill of the air immediately gnawed at her features. She knew it was going to be cold, but she didn’t think it would be this cold.

I hope Felix didn’t decide to get there early today. Marinette thought to herself as they scrambled into the backseat of the car.

“So are you excited?” She asked Allegra while buckling in. Claude had been bouncing around the school walls all week for this trip, but Allegra hadn’t said much about it. Neither had Allan. Of course, they didn’t have to be excited. Marinette was just curious as to whether they were or why they weren’t.

“Absolutely!” Allegra grinned, bringing a smile to Marinette’s lips as well. Guess people show their excitement in different ways.

“Probably not as excited as Claude, though.” The blonde continued, a humorous expression crossing her features. “How many fish did he text on the group chat again?”

Marinette squinted slightly as she thought about it. “I think.. Twenty seven? Maybe twenty eight.”

“Twenty eight sounds about right.” Allegra said with a nod. “I swear Allan was this close to blocking him.”

Marinette laughed. “That knife meme was hilarious! I still can’t believe that Felix was the one who sent it. I was starting to think he didn’t read the group chat.”

“Yeah, he surprises us every now and then.” Allegra mused, a fond smile coming to her lips. “Like this aquarium trip. I don’t think he’s ever once agreed to go somewhere with us after the first invite.”

Marinette shrugged and settled into her seat as the driver pulled out onto the road. “Well, he did say that you were going to force him either way.”

Allegra’s smile turned devilish. “And he’s absolutely right. If he had said no to coming, I would have dragged him there myself, but that’s never stopped him before.”

Marinette tilted her head in a nod. That was certainly true.

“Maybe he just likes aquariums?”

Allegra hummed, a mischievous glint in her sky blue eyes as she said, “Or maybe he likes someone who’s going to the aquarium.”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. Like as in like like? Like a crush? Felix didn’t seem like the type to have a crush on someone, though after hearing him talk about the lovers in his classical playlist, she supposed it was a possibility.

“Is there someone else you guys know that might be there?”

A short laugh burst from Allegra’s lips, almost like Marinette had missed the point of something, and she shook her head. “No, nevermind. Forget I said anything. Let’s just enjoy our agreeable Felix while we have him.”

Marinette nodded, though her thoughts still lingered on the comment. Felix developing romantic feelings for someone sounded like such a foreign concept to her. Not that he was unlovable, or anything. He was just.. too logical. He didn’t dote on feelings. The only circumstance where she can clearly see him acquiring a spouse would be an arranged marriage. He’d probably be the one to plan it, too, seeing it as the most beneficial choice between both families. What type of wife would he pick, anyway? She’d probably be beautiful and quiet, right? Not to mention smart. Felix wouldn’t be able to stand someone ‘incompetent’. Maybe she’d be a bit of a perfectionist like him?

A soft hum passed her lips. It was definitely a thought.

~~~~~~

Felix grit his teeth as the biting chill of the morning seeped into his clothing. It was times like this that he wished those jokes about the incredible inaccuracy of weathermen were true. He hasn’t even been outside for ten minutes, and his fingers were already numb. If Felix had known that his coat and gloves would be this ineffective, he would have taken the second coat that his mother tried to insist he wear earlier.

A shiver ran up his spine as a particularly cold burst of wind whipped past him, and he pulled his coat tighter around his waist. What time was it? Were the girls going to be arriving soon?

He flicked his wrist upwards to catch sight of his watch. Allegra said that they would be meeting at Aquarium de Paris at 10am. Being 9:58am., they should be arriving any minute, but that didn’t stop him from heaving a deep sigh towards the wait. Note to self: Don’t arrive early to activities that take place outside during the winter.

A nudge to the arm brought Felix’s attention to Claude. He’d also arrived early- probably out of sheer excitement. He’s been blabbering about this trip all week -but the cold didn’t appear to affect him nearly as much.

“Are you nervous?” The brunette asked, causing Felix to shoot him a flat look.

“Why on earth would I be nervous?”

“Oh, no reason..” Claude said, his tone light and teasing. “I just know that Marinette’s going to be here.”

Felix rose a brow. “And?”

Claude smiled knowingly, but Felix couldn’t imagine what the brunette thought he knew this time.

“You two have gotten pretty close lately.”

“In what way?” There was the physical way or the mental way. Granted, both ways were incorrect, but it was an important distinction.

“Well, you talk to each other all the time.” Claude answered, as though that should be some monumental fact.

Ah. So it’s the mental way.

“That’s usually what happens when two people are in the same friend group.” Felix responded. “They talk.”

“Yeah, but what about the library?” Claude argued. Why did he feel the need to argue? “You two were practically touching noses, and no one else was there besides me.”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. “Yesterday? When we were sharing headphones?”

Claude nodded, a Cheshire grin crossing his features. Why did he look triumphant? No one had won anything. “Yep. That’s the one I’m talking about.”

“Do you share headphones differently?”

“Well, no..” Claude half-shrugged. “But you guys are still pretty close, don’t you think?”

Felix paused. The label of being close to Marinette wasn’t a bad one, save for the fact that it was completely untrue. In light of a physical closeness, the only moments that they were close would be times when Marinette fell on top of him or yesterday, when they shared headphones in the library, and the latter scenario is being taken entirely out of context. They don’t walk around holding hands or hugging or sitting shoulder to shoulder next to each other, and in all honesty, Felix wouldn’t want to. He doesn’t enjoy constantly touching people. And as for the mental closeness, Marinette hasn’t told him anything that she hasn’t told anyone else. Felix knows a lot about her, yes, but almost everything he knows has been found out secretly, through silent observations. He would hardly call that “close”.

“No, I don’t think so,” he finally answered, “but I’m still confused as to why that would make me nervous.”

Claude pursed his lips, studying him for a moment, then sighed and crossed his arms. “Oh, nevermind. Either you’re in denial or you’ll figure it out eventually.”

A hint of frustration started to stir in Felix’s mind. Figure out what?

Before he could ask anything else, another voice cut into their conversation.

“Oh, there you guys are!”

It was Allan, and when Felix looked up, he noticed that Marinette and Allegra were accompanying him as well. Wonderful. He’d somewhat forgotten about the cold during Claude’s maniac ramblings, but now that his focus had shifted, the weather was hitting him full force again. He needed to escape inside before his feet were frozen to the sidewalk.

Claude perked up and waved to the three as he ran over to them. “Hey guys! What took you so long?”

Felix hobbled over to them as well, catching sight of Marinette’s sheepish smile as she said, “Sorry, Claude. We got here as fast as we could.”

Claude, of course, waved off the apology. “Nah, I’m just kidding. We weren’t waiting that long.”

The brunette scooped Marinette into a hug, coaxing out a laugh from her. She was so bundled up with coats and scarfs and gloves that Claude had to squish her between his arms to hold her, and it vaguely reminded Felix of a marshmallow.

In weather like this, though, being a marshmallow didn’t sound half bad.

Claude blew out a contented sigh as he nuzzled his face into Marinette’s shoulder. “Man, Mari, you’re so warm! I need to start using you as my personal heater.”

Marinette chuckled and pulled back just enough to hold up a brown, paper bag. “Thanks, but I think it’s just the food Maman sent with me.”

A gasp flew from Claude, and he immediately set her back on the ground. “Food, you say? As in, croissants food??”

“Yes, Claude.” Marinette giggled. “Croissants food. Maman packed a few extras especially for you.”

Claude literally let out a girlish squeal and made “grabby hands” for the bag. Marinette gladly obliged, letting him dig through it for his favorites.

“Your mom is the absolute best.” Claude said, his voice muffled from the chocolate croissant he bit into. “Please adopt me.”

The group shared a small laugh, but Felix rolled his eyes. Claude was always overdramatic.

“You better not let Aunt Felicity hear you say that.” Allegra spoke up. She was also bundled to the max- though her coat was light purple -and looked about ten times warmer than Felix felt. “Remember the last time you asked Allan to adopt you?”

Claude scoffed. “That was different! This time I want to be adopted because of Mme Sabine’s cooking, not because of how many games Marinette has.”

“Oh, yeah.” Allan snorted. “That’s completely different.”

“Hey, mom will understand.” Claude insisted, placing his hands on his hips. “She knows she can’t cook anything to save her life. That’s why we have a personal chef.”

“Wait, are you two cousins?” Marinette cut in, confusion flicking across her features.

A slight frown came to Allegra’s lips. “No, why do you ask?”

“You called his mom ‘Aunt Felicity’.”

“Oh!” The blonde’s face lit up with understanding. “Yeah, we do that. Claude’s parents are Aunt Felicity and Uncle Albert, and Allan’s parents are Aunt Meridith and Uncle Theodore.”

Allan nodded in agreement. “I think it started back in middle school when Claude accidentally called M. Chanson ‘Uncle Arthur’ while taking some snacks.”

Allegra snorted. “Oh, yeah, that was definitely the start of it. Dad wouldn’t stop talking about it for days. He thought it was the best.”

Claude sighed, running a hand through his hair with a bashful smile. “That was totally embarrassing, but at least he liked it.”

“Can we all go inside?” Felix interjected. Talking about how they address the adults is nice and all, but his arms and legs have been burning from the cold for the last five minutes. Can’t they continue this conversation when they’re not standing in below-thirty-degree weather?

Claude laughed, throwing Felix a teasing smirk. “Aw, poor Fe. Are you cold?”

Felix scowled at his babying tone. “Of course I’m cold! Frost is slowly growing on our hoods as we speak!”

“Well, I’m not cold.” The brunette replied, swinging his arm around Marinette’s shoulder. “Because I’ve had some of Marinette’s delicious croissants to keep me warm.”

Felix scoffed and tugged his coat tighter around himself. Eating warm croissants certainly didn’t help him.

“They are pretty warm.” Allan said next to him. “You should try one.”

“He doesn’t have to.” Marinette, being the kind person she is, hastily jumped in. “We were planning on going inside, anyway, right?”

“Yeah, but I think Felix needs to taste one.” Allegra remarked. “It’s simply shameful of him to refuse them for this long, in my opinion.”

“I don’t like sweets.” Felix pointed out in annoyance. Just start moving towards the aquarium.

“Well..” Marinette faltered. “Maman did pack a regular croissant and a cheesy croissant..”

He held back a sigh. Though her intentions surely weren’t foul, his only ally had officially condemned him. It’s not that he cared to try one of Marinette’s croissants. After eating supper with Marinette’s parents last week, he had no doubt that anything they made was delicious. No, the problem came with the fact that he was being pushed to eat them. (The group wasn’t quite pushing yet, but he’d learned to pinpoint the signs of oncoming pressure.) If Felix says no, despite how unreasonable it might be, he expects that answers to be respected. The same way he would respect anyone else who told him no about something.

“See, there you go!” Claude smiled. “A nice, warm, non-sweet croissant to make you forget about the January weather.”

“I’d forget it just as easily if we walked inside.” Felix bit back.

“Oh, come on, Felix.” Allegra scolded. “Live a little! You don’t have to eat the whole thing, just one bite!”

“Guys, he really doesn’t have to eat it.” Marinette spoke up again. Felix silently thanked her for her efforts, but her previous comment made any resistance futile now.

“Oh, he’s eating it.” Claude stated. “He needs to know the pure bliss that is Mme Sabine’s croissants.”

“Plus, we’re not going inside until he tries it.” Allegra added.

Allan snorted. “Felix.. I think they want you to try the croissant.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed to a glare. “I’ll walk inside without you.”

“No, you won’t.” Allegra shot back. “You know why you won’t? Because you actually don’t mind trying the croissants. You’re just upset that we told you to try them.”

Felix was thankful for his pockets, because it hid the way his hands clenched into his fists. He absolutely hated when Allegra saw through his intentions. It made him feel transparent, vulnerable. Not to mention embarrassed. Was he that horrible at hiding his emotions or could he simply not match her level of observation? It was probably the former and that ticked him off the most.

“Just give me the dang croissant.” He finally bit off, jutting his hand out to Marinette. If he stared solely at her, he wouldn’t have to see Claude or Allegra’s victorious, blood-boiling grins.

Marinette flinched at the sudden movement and knitted her eyebrows, concerned. “A-Are you sure-”

“Positive.” Felix ground out, hoping she didn’t take it personally. Just give me the food so we can get this over with.

Although wary, Marinette handed over one of the croissants. The specks of yellow around the edges told him it was the cheese-flavored one.

With a deep breath to regain some composure, Felix took a bite of the breaded treat, and..

And it was incredible.

The croissant was piping hot, immediately stealing away the bitter coldness of the air as Claude had claimed. The cheese inside was stringy and practically melted in his mouth, and the softness of the bread allowed you to enjoy every bit of the doughy taste.

It took everything Felix had to keep a neutral expression. If they saw how much he enjoyed the food, they would never let him live it down. He’d be trying everything else under the sun merely because the trio was right one time.

“Well?” Allegra pressed. “How does it taste?”

“.. They are delicious.” He admitted, if only for Marinette’s sake. Downplaying Mme Sabine’s baking skills would only allow him to keep a small bit of his useless pride. He might as well be honest.

A smile slipped onto Marinette’s lips, but Claude’s triumphant laugh took away any satisfaction Felix might have gotten from it.

“I knew you would like them!” The brunette cheered. “Anyway, let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here!”

Felix scoffed, throwing a sharp glare at Claude. If it weren’t for how good this croissant was, he would have thrown it at him.

“Yeah, I think they’re open now.” Allan agreed as he checked his watch.

Curious, Felix checked his watch too. 10:10am.

“Oh! Race you guys there!” Claude abruptly announced, before breaking into a sprint.

Allan chuckled and humored the brunette by going into a jog, and Allegra picked up the pace as well. Felix, however, elected to keep walking as he munched on the croissant. The heat radiating off of it was enough to stall the looming chill around him anyway.

“So..” Marinette began, drawing Felix’s gaze down to her. She’d apparently decided to walk with him instead of running after Claude.

For some reason, that gave Felix a sense of accomplishment.

“Did you really like the croissants?” She asked, her hands fidgeting with the paper bag.

Felix nodded, taking another bite of the croissant as ‘proof’. “Claude wasn’t joking when he said that she made them fluffier than the clouds. I’ll have to buy them for Mother sometime.”

A small smile graced her lips. “I’m glad you like them.”

Felix offered a small smile in return. “Yes, me too.”

After Agreste’s visit earlier in the week, Marinette had been rather stressed. He noticed her looking over her shoulder often, checking windows before exiting buildings, spacing out during classes.. It was obvious that the encounter had unnerved her.

He tried to ease her mind by rallying the trio to help. They recognized her sudden anxiety as well, and although Felix couldn’t tell them the exact reason, he hinted at it possibly being the usual nervousness of their first round of tests that was coming up. This caused them to swarm Marinette for study dates and extra lunches, asking questions about different subjects while they walked her to her locker or to her classes. When this strategy failed- which wasn’t often -Felix would also offer to accompany her.

If she suspected his involvement in the extra attention, she didn’t show it, but she did relax after a few days of the special treatment. Felix took that as a success.

Marinette and Felix caught up with the rest of the group a few seconds later, and they all entered the aquarium together. Another shiver ran over Felix as they walked inside, the warmth of the building washing over him. He would have smiled with relief had it not been for the amount of people pushing against them. Despite the aquarium opening a little less than twenty minutes ago, people of all ages were already piling inside. Adults, teenagers, kids.. Felix supposed this was the price they paid for visiting on a Sunday.

“Everyone stay together!” Allegra instructed over the noise. She grabbed onto Felix’s wrist and Allan’s hand for emphasis. “We don’t want to get separated before we even pay for our tickets.”

Although it irked him for Allegra to be latching onto his wrist, Felix didn’t argue. Past experiences with the trio have made him well aware of how easy it was to get separated in a rushing crowd like this.

They weaved through the giddy schoolgirls and the tired parents until they found a steady line for the ticket both. There, they talked about which attractions to see first and which ones to save for later.

“I think we should just walk through.” Claude said, unsurprisingly. He was never one for order. “It’ll be easier if we just go.”

“But if we don’t have a plan, we’ll never get through it all.” Allegra pointed out. “It doesn’t have to be strict. We just need a vague goal to work towards.”

“We could start with the jellyfish?” Marinette suggested. “Those are always cool.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Allan agreed. “Then we could start working our way around to the shark tank. I say we save it for last since it’s the main reason we came.”

Claude let out a small whine. “Aw, what? Why would we wait till the end to see it if it’s the reason we came?”

“Come on, Claude, you know how the saying goes.” Allegra commented, flicking Claude on the shoulder. “Save the best for last.”

Claude grabbed his shoulder, even though the flick hardly hurt. “I never understood that expression.”

Allegra rolled her eyes with a smile and turned back to the group. “Are we all in agreement then? Start with the jellyfish and move to the sharks?”

“Works for me.” Allan shrugged.

“I don’t have a preference.” Felix stated, not that his opinion would matter much to anyone but Marinette.

With a (somewhat) solid plan, the group purchased their tickets and merged with the flow of the people to get to the main part of the aquarium. The first item on the list, aside from seeing Jellyfish, was to find lockers or another place to put their winter coats and gloves. Felix didn’t fancy the cold, but melting in a packed building also wasn’t preferable.

Allegra still held onto his wrist as they searched, but that didn’t stop the people around them from shoving and prodding to get through first. Felix jostled about, a scowl quickly forming on his lips after getting hit for the fifth time. How can it be so rowdy during the thirty minutes? Goodness knows what’s going to happen when more people start arriving! Why did he even agree to come here?

A gasp cut through the white noise of the crowd, and Claude called out Marinette’s name as she rushed forward.

She stopped in front of the jellyfish tank they came upon and pressed her gloved hands to the glass, smile bright and eyes sparkling with awe. The jellyfish circled in the water with the current, glowing blue and purple and pink under the aquarium lights.

A laugh of pure delight escaped Marinette, and she glanced over her shoulder at them. “Do you see how many there are? This is so neat!”

The sheer giddiness of her voice caused another smile to crawl onto Felix’s lips. Ah, yes. He remembered why he quickly relented to the aquarium visit. It was the first time Marinette had personally invited him to something, and he didn’t want to upset her if he fought against the activities as he usually did. After all, what thanks would that be to someone who constantly tries to keep him comfortable and respect his boundaries?

“Yeah, they look amazing!” Allegra grinned, tugging Felix and Allan forward to follow the ravenette.

Felix followed with a slight glare. He knew that holding onto each other was for the best, but-

Another person slammed into his shoulder, and Felix full on growled at them as they walked off like nothing happened.

-but perhaps the next time he feels the need to repay Marinette’s kindness, he should simply send a ‘thank you’ letter instead.

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @casual-darkness @vixen-uchiha @luxmorningstarr

#felinette #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Marinette

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tommybaholland · 3 years

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Hello! I was wondering if you could write a angst oneshot about the whole Izuku leaving UA incident and how his s/o would take it seeing that letter right after the war ark, and maybe their reaction if he came back?

If you've done this already please just ignore this! (ˊ˘ˋ*)

where are you, deku?

featuring: midoriya

recent manga chapter spoilers in this one! i have to admit that i haven’t been the biggest fan of the current arc thus far but this is one reason why i write. so i included some stuff that i feel were missed opportunities. also, if you read the manga, i’d love to hear any predictions you might have. enjoy! x

sitting in a hospital was never fun. it’s already bad if you’re there to be treated but sitting there, waiting for someone to wake up, not knowing that they will? you’d rather be admitted.

you didn’t know how he would recover from this. there’s no way his body could handle everything that he pushed through to stop the evil from winning. was there even a winner in this war? you’re not even sure how or why it started. there were so many things happening, so many twists and turns and surprises that everyone who survived physically wouldn’t have much luck mentally.

no matter how you spin it, there was no silver lining. and you were not the only one plagued by the lasting effect.

todoroki’s supposedly dead brother is alive and a mass murder, mirio has his powers again but doesn’t know that tamaki might be dead, midnight’s death was confirmed days ago and no one could just forget about it..

and it had been three days, but deku had not awoken from his unconscious state.

you were adamant about being the first one he saw when he woke up. he’d say that you’re stubborn but that was one thing you had in common. it was odd for him to stay unconscious for this long when he had always been the epitome of persistence.

the sound of all might entering the room jerked you awake from what was probably the tenth time you had dozed off.

“y/n,” he addressed. “you have done a great job keeping midoriya company but i think it’s time for you to get some rest. todoroki and bakugo have awoken, why don’t you go check on them with your other classmates?”

you didn’t even look over to him, not wanting to see the pitiful expression on his face.

“why isn’t he waking up, all might? he doesn’t even look like he’s in pain,” you observed, looking down at your unconscious partner.

“that must be a good thing, though, right?” the former hero replied.

“yes but,” you paused, unsure of how to say it. “it’s odd. he’s not in a coma-induced state, he just looks like he’s taking a nap.”

all might knew that midoriya and bakugo had kept the secret of ofa between them. now might be a good time to tell everyone, or at least everyone who should know, what was going to happen to him. midoriya was not unconscious nor asleep but was in a similar state, one that allowed him to talk to the previous holders of one for all.

until he finishes his conversation with them, an explanation would have to wait.

“you have observed well, y/n. i can assure you that he is not in any pain and will wake up eventually. he’ll want to tell you everything when he does. until then, please go tell the other students what you know for now.”

“what if he wakes up?” you questioned, continuing to face deku with your hands over one of his casted arms.

“i’ll have someone send for you but i’m sure you’ll be around when he finally wakes,” all might reassured.

you nodded, too tired to protest at this point. you stood from your seat before leaning down to press a parting kiss to his freckled cheek. his skin was warm which prompted a tear you didn’t know was there to fall down your cheek. he was alive but you wanted him to be okay.

you wiped the tear from your face and sniffled before turning around to finally face all might. he patted your shoulder as you walked by, quickly leaving the room. you decided that you would do as you were told and to go check on your other classmates. however, you didn’t get very far when you ran into bakugo who was storming down the hallway while resisting the restraint of sato and mineta.

“Y/N! WHERE IS HE?”

It almost made you smile to see that bakugo was still his belligerent self, despite being seriously injured. however, that doesn’t mean he should be walking around so soon. you stood in front of the door to deku’s room, prohibiting him from entering. once he finally reached you, he tried to push past you with his hands on your shoulders.

“you better move out of the way or start talking before i kill both you AND HIM,” he threatened when you wouldn’t move.

“he’s still unconscious,” you replied solemnly. “but all might’s certain that he will wake up.”

bakugo’s demeanor changed as he observed the melancholy expression on your face. he wasn’t an idiot but you were. it was the least he could do.

“well, i agree with him. of course he’s going to wake up, you idiot.”

you looked up at him, waiting for elaboration from his sudden confidence.

“tch. i thought you loved him or whatever. somehow your annoying ass decided to put up with his dumbass so you of all people would know that he wouldn’t just quit. and if he does, i’ll make sure he’s really dead.”

once almost everyone was discharged from the hospital, you were instructed to return to UA. you were told that you would receive updates and further instructions the next morning. however, sleep was far from what you would receive. despite the exhaustion, you were restless beyond belief which made you delirious and you couldn’t tell if the shuffling outside your room was real or not.

you woke up early, just when the sun was beginning to rise. you decided to get up as there was no point in trying to fall back asleep. you didn’t get even a step outside your room after stepping on a folded piece of paper that had been shoved under the door, waiting for you.

it was a letter from him.

it turns out that seemingly everyone got a letter from him. all of them varied in contents but they all conveyed the same message:

he had left the hero course.

they also explained his power and how it passed down from all might which is the reason why the league of villains and all for one were after him. yours, however, included a little extra message written at the end.

i love you, y/n. please don’t come looking for me.

he had probably blamed himself for all the strife he had caused with the war but you thought it was dumb for him to leave. how did he think he was going to do this on his own? there was obviously more to this story than he provided but given that he told everyone in the class, he had to keep it simple.

it was all making sense to you, shedding some light as to why all might was so sure of deku’s recovery. however, you didn’t get to see him when he woke up like you were told. he played it safe in writing these letters because he knew that you and others in the class would only try to stop him if he left. everyone was asking you about what you knew and you couldn’t tell them squat. you tried calling and texting him but he wouldn’t answer.

it was an odd feeling. you didn’t know whether you should be mad or not. if you couldn’t see your boyfriend yourself, you had to talk to all might. however, mr. aizawa was the only thing standing, or rather now sitting, in your way.

“by now, you all know that your classmate, midoriya, has left the hero course. this does not mean that the rest of you should follow in his footsteps.”

even though he didn’t tower over everyone anymore from his wheelchair, he was still equally as intimidating.

“now, UA has agreed to use its campus as an evacuation shelter. your families have already begun the moving process. classes will resume as normal but no one will be allowed to leave the campus under any circumstances. we’ve put a pause on all work study-related activities outside of the school until we know that there are no more possible threats, at least, for now. any questions can be directed to me.”

“will all might be returning?” you asked.

“all might will be taking leave from teaching for now,” answered mr. aizawa. “as i said, you can direct your questions to me.”

“right, sir, but i have questions for him about dek-- i mean, midoriya.”

“well, you’ll have to wait until he finds an opportunity to return then.”

“when will that be?”

“whenever he finds an opportunity, y/n. any other questions?”

it seemed like you were at a loss until you remembered something from when you were in the hospital with deku. bakugo’s behavior when you told him what all might said changed rather abruptly and you don’t think it’s because all might is his favorite pro hero. although they grew up together, deku and bakugo were anything but close. however, bakugo’s affirmation that he would recover felt odd and like he knew something that made him sure of it.

this led you to pursue him as your next lead.

you found him later in the kitchen making something for himself, as he usually cooked for himself than eating the food sent over by the school.

“what did you think about his letter?”

“what letter? i didn’t get anything from that damn nerd.”

that was surprising but that logic further pushed the idea that he knew something and therefore didn’t need a letter to explain it to him.

“so you don’t know anything about this?” you asked as you pulled out the folded-up paper that was left at your door that morning.

bakugo snatched the paper out of your hand and scanned over its contents quickly. his brows raised by the time he reached the end before he grimaced again.

“that idiot,” he muttered under his breath.

“so you didn’t know about it?”

“this is almost the same as what everyone else got,” he observed, ignoring your question.

“okay. but did you know about it?” you asked again.

“of course i did, you dumbass! so are you gonna ask me a billion questions now that his cowardly ass isn’t here to explain it to you like he should’ve?”

“so there is more to it.”

“he gave you the gist of it. that’s really all you need to know.”

“but what do shigaraki and all for one have to do with this?”

“can’t you read? the letter literally explained that.”

“like you said, it was really only the gist of it.”

“well, you were right in wanting to talk to all might but i guess you’ll have to wait.”

“no. if you know something, i need to hear about it. also, why do you get to know about all this?”

“because that moron originally told me about it back when we started school here. i didn’t take it seriously at the time until he started getting stronger. right after we moved to the dorms, he and all might told me everything,” he explained.

“i need you to tell me what happened then because he and all might aren’t here right now.”

“look, it’s really not my job to tell you! this really belongs between the two of them. dumb deku just promised that he would be strong enough to try to beat me.”

“at least tell me why he felt he had to leave when we could’ve helped him! i know he likes to act like a selfless idiot but i don’t know if he can do this by himself.”

bakugo sighed. “this is his fight and his fight alone. like icyhot said back at the sports festival, he has all might in his corner. that’s all the help he’s gonna need.”

you nodded in agreement.

“plus, that dumb power of his involves more than what you’ve seen of it,” he added cryptically.

“what does that mean?”

“did you even read the letter? it said that the power was passed down from all might to him, moron.”

“again, that doesn’t really mean much to me,” you pressed.

“tch. yeah. you probably only paid attention to that gross end part. that stupid nerd,” he muttered.

“what was that?”

“look, i’m done talking with you. either talk to all might or use your damn head.”

that wasn’t a complete waste of time but it certainly was a lost cause. despite his arrogance, everything bakugo said was true. he’s not someone who goes around lying about things so you felt that you could trust him when he said that deku would be in good hands with all might.

you left the kitchen somewhat satisfied but it still bothered you that you didn’t know everything completely. you wondered if there was anyone else who knew about it but the chances were slim, given that bakugo also stated that it was between deku and all might.

while heading back up to your room, you ran into todoroki. you hadn’t talked to him much since the war. out of anyone, he was probably going through it more than anyone.

“hey, todoroki. how are you holding up?” you asked, grinning softly.

his voice was still recovering but it was a lot better than a few days ago. “hello, y/n. my family’s okay for the most part and my father is finally doing what he should.”

you didn’t want to pry but you knew what he meant.

“did you get a letter?”

“from midoriya? yes. i’m not especially surprised since he and all might have been close since school began. however, i do find it odd that he suddenly has another power. did you notice it?”

you nodded. “it first happened during the training session with class B, right?”

“yes. were you ever curious about it?”

“he was probably more freaked out about it than anyone else so i didn’t focus too much on it,” you explained.

“i asked him about it and i agree, he did seem apprehensive about it.”

there was a beat of silence then which had you pondering over what bakugo had said.

“apparently there’s more to his power than we think and it has something to do with the passing from one user to another,” you reported.

“i’ve been thinking about that, as well,” todoroki replied. “it’s possible that midoriya’s power is evolving to beyond what all might could do with it. it would make sense, given quirk singularity.”

his theory seemed reliable since he would know about something like singularity.

“thank you for sharing that with me, todoroki. it think it’s quite possible that you’re right. i’m going to try to talk to all might if you want to confirm it,” you offered.

“thank you, y/n, but i believe the answer will be more clear later on. there’s something i have to focus on for myself right now. i hope you find out more soon.”

you thanked him, wished him well, and made the rest of the way to your room. now, you really couldn’t imagine what todoroki was going through. if anything, he had just as much weight on his shoulders as deku right now.

then again, you still needed answers as to exactly what he was doing.

later that night, bakugo sat on his bed looking down at a piece of paper. it had four simple words on it. words that both excited and annoyed him immensely.

i’m catching up, kacchan.

months passed and you hadn’t heard from deku. well, you had but not in the way you wanted. you finally got in touch with all might, who showed up to UA in person. apparently, mr. aizawa had passed down the message that you were wanting to talk but you don’t know how long ago that had been. you appreciated his effort but at this point, it was your boyfriend who you needed to see now. you didn’t want to displace your anger onto him but he could see that distress that you are in.

“i’m sorry that he couldn’t come himself,” all might apologized.

you sighed. “it’s alright. it seems like he has better things to do now.”

“he just needs to work on yielding one for all,” all might elaborated.

“is that what it’s called? one for all?”

“he didn’t tell you about it? i thought he wrote everyone in the class a letter?”

“he did but he didn’t go into too much detail which is why i wanted to talk to you,” you explained, your tone rather aloof.

“right. of course,” all might replied before clearing his throat to fill in the missing pieces.

it turns out that todoroki’s theory was on the track in that one for all had reached the singularity point and the quirks from its predecessors were beginning to manifest.

“the fact that he was completely quirkless before one for all makes the singularity point easier for him to transition to and use the other six quirks.”

that was news to you. “he was quirkless?”

“yes.”

it was all making sense now. everything that seemed off about him and his power was because he never had one in the first place. you also could now understand why bakugo was the most hostile with him when it came to training and deku’s improvement with his power. and this was why bakugo was dead set on deku coming out of this alive.

however, you couldn’t help but feel naive. you felt like you should’ve listened to your intuition more when things weren’t adding up and he was landing himself back in the hospital with broken arms time after time. but you ended up falling in love with him and it wasn’t because of his power. in the same vein, you weren’t about to hate him for it either, like bakugo or even todoroki at the beginning of the school year. he had worked hard to where he is now and the truth was that he had always been that way, quirk or not.

but how come he felt the need to hide it all, especially from you? bakugo had only recently been clued in about all of it so why not you as well?

“i made him not say anything to anyone, especially since i had started teaching at the school,” all might explained, continuing to be incredibly perceptive. “and bakugo was only roped in because he was catching on to it.”

“yeah. he told me that deku originally told him a while ago,” you recalled. “so what is he going to do about shigaraki and all for one?”

“we’re not entirely sure yet. right now he’s mostly acting as bait to try to lure out the league of villains while taking care of any stray villains from the prison breaks.”

“so what you’re saying is you don’t have a plan?” you questioned.

“we’re considering all of our options, y/n.”

“who?”

“deku, myself, endeavor, and hawks. best jeanist has also been helping with recon,” he elaborated.

of course, he’d have the top three heroes and all might on his side. not to mention all the vestiges talking to him in his head. what about the rest of the class though? surely he was going to need more than that. hero society is hanging by a thread that could snap at any moment if the villains strike again first.

“why didn’t you let me see him after he woke up?” you asked, changing the subject.

“we wanted him to stay at UA, as that’s where he’d be most protected. unfortunately, every decision has been his own,” he answered.

that was what you were afraid of.

since that conversation, the city had been partially recovered, villains were being captured, and there weren’t any threats as of yet from the league. UA fully reinstated work study programs and students were allowed out under heavy supervision.

todoroki kept coming back from his father’s agency with letters from deku to give to you. you read them, of course, but hadn’t replied to a single one. talking to all might was helpful, it really was, but you couldn’t help this nagging feeling inside you. his letters didn’t help much either. of course, you were happy to hear from him and it did give you that tingling feeling of love that you hadn’t felt in months.

the letters mostly detailed what he was doing and provided updates on his progress since you had talked to all might. however, if he was freely moving about the city, you didn’t understand why he couldn’t just come talk to you. all might had said that all the decisions made were his own and he was doing it in the best interest of you, the school, and his family. the thought of deku saying that he didn’t want to see anyone else get hurt made you shake your head. he’s very persistent and strong-willed but he too often doesn’t accept the help nor listen to the warnings of others, yourself included.

you missed him but you were also resentful towards him and you hated feeling that way. you wanted to be supportive rather than selfish but it was hard when he could be too self-sacrificing. it’s not that you didn’t have faith in him. you just wanted to prepare for the worst.

“hey, idiot.”

“what is it, bakugo?”

bakugo and todoroki approached you one day after they came back from their work study.

“we’re trying to tell you something important so don’t cop an attitude right now,” he glared.

you gave him an unamused look, unfazed by the irony. “so did you need something?”

todoroki spoke up next. “yes. my father would like to recruit you for work study. you don’t currently have one, right?”

“no. i don’t,” you replied honestly. “why does endeavor want me all of the sudden?”

“because midoriya—“

“shut up, you half and half moron!” bakugo interrupted. “look, we need help and thought you would want to be included.”

“okay. but why me?”

“you’re such a dumbass. just come with us!”

and now you were here at the endeavor agency in your hero costume with an uneasy feeling. maybe it was because you were standing right in front of the number one himself.

“hello, y/n.”

it was true that he didn’t have any other expression other than a scowl. lately, that scowl seemed worn down and honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

“bakugo and shoto have told me about you. of course, i first heard about you from deku.”

your ears perked up at his hero name. you hadn’t heard it in months.

“since he has left the hero course, we needed another student apprentice at the agency. the reason why we didn’t contact you sooner was that we were overconfident in thinking that we didn’t need another and for that, i personally apologize.”

endeavor bowing to you was a sight you thought you’d see only in your dreams.

“so what is this really about then?”

“the league of villains is on the move and he needs some help.”

you didn’t have time to even think of a response before the familiar mess of green hair came into view. that was really the only familiar thing about him against his dirty and tattered hero costume. not to mention all the upgrades that you had never seen before.

“hey, y/n,” he greeted with a soft grin.

you felt like your heart had stopped for a solid three seconds.

“deku…” you breathed out finally. you let the tears well up in your eyes. you didn’t want him to see you cry. you felt a rush of adrenaline pull you towards him and tackle him to the ground.

from the view, it looked like you were happy to see him. you were anything but thrilled.

“why— how— w- what are you doing here?” you questioned, leaning over him on the ground. you face felt hot with rage but you couldn’t stop it. the more you tried to suppress your emotions, the more intense they felt.

“well, i wanted to see you!” he answered, trying to lighten the mood.

“you wanted to SEE ME!? what about the previous eight months, huh? or when you woke up? you didn’t want to see me then either?”

“y/n, please i didn’t intend to abandon anyone. i only wanted to protect—“

“everyone, right?” you interrupted him. “what about the rest of us? we want to be heroes too! we’ve fought countless battles and went through a whole war with you! when are you going to get it through your dumb head that we want to help you?”

“heh. they sound like me now,” bakugo quietly commented as he and todoroki watched this whole scene.

“i wouldn’t get excited about that,” replied todoroki.

“i’m sorry if i’m being selfish but this isn’t fair, deku,” you cried, your tears dripping onto his face.

if he thought about it, deku had improved immensely in the last several months, most likely at a quicker rate than he had at UA. however, that was because there wasn’t as much restraint on the usage of his powers. he got to fight high-level villains without a lot of supervision. he was essentially a vigilante and the top three of the hero society were allowing him to do it.

“i’m sorry for leaving, y/n,” he began, sitting up as you leaned up off of him to wipe your tears.

“i wasn’t thinking about everyone’s feelings but i felt that it wasn’t anyone’s decision. you guys would have stopped me no matter what.”

you didn’t make eye contact with him until his next sentence.

“but that doesn’t mean i should be treated as a special case. you’re right, i shouldn’t waste all the energy and effort everyone has put into to stop something that i’m mostly responsible for. even though i’ve been figuring things out on my own lately, i have no idea how i’m going to stop all for one or save shigaraki.”

you suddenly felt stupid as he looked down solemnly. you were stupid for overreacting. at the end of the day, this was his fight. no one else could do this but him. however, hearing that he needed help was what you needed to hear.

your boyfriend needed help.

“hey,” you called softly, placing a hand over his cheek. he looked up as you with glossy green eyes.

“you don’t have to do this all by yourself. you have so many friends and heroes wanting to help you. i know you don’t want to lose anyone but i think everyone involved knows the risks.”

you looked back to bakugo and todoroki for reassurance. todoroki nodded in agreement while bakugo simply, “tch. whatever.”

“you’ve got me, too. you’re never gonna lose me, deku. and i won’t let you lose either. i love you too much even if you can be really dumb sometimes.”

“i love you too, babe,” he reciprocated, his face getting closer to yours. “i did really miss you.”

“i know, baby.”

you completed the reconciliation with a sweet kiss, one that made bakugo roll his eyes.

“can you idiots stop wasting my time already?!”

“i agree,” endeavor spoke up. “we should start telling them what we know.”

“right! sorry, sir!” your boyfriend squeaked before scrambling to get you both off the floor. you stifled a laugh. he’s probably seen some stuff over the last few months but his cute, spastic self didn’t change much.

“let’s get y/n acclimated to the agency first and then we’ll go over everything,” endeavor suggested.

“oh my gosh, y/n! i can’t wait to show you how huge this place is! c’mon,” deku exclaimed, grabbing your hand and pulling you around the office.

he didn’t want to let go once but if you wanted to because your hands were sweaty, he’d simply reach for it again. his thumb ran over the back of yours when you were just standing next to each other, giving it an occasional squeeze. even when it was his turn to talk, he didn’t release.

“okay so here’s what i’ve done recently and the information i’ve gathered from those encounters..”

you didn’t know what the end result would be and he was none the wiser. he knows how he wants it to end and now he has people he can count on for that.

heyy bnha night! let’s hear about more of your favs..

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya fluff #midoriya angst #midoriya oneshot #request #requested #tommybaholland

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Pacemaker

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Let me be clear: this is a very dark narrative. I have lots of warnings for my readers, including explicit smut, vulgar language, toxic relationships, voyeurism, choking, sadism, smoking, and drinking.

Word Count: 8.2K

Genre: Sugar Daddy AU; Established Relationship

Summary: Y/N had made a lot of bad decisions throughout her life, but signing up for that stupid Sugar Daddy website? The worst of them all.

A/N: The title makes more sense in the end, but I can tell you that pacemaker’s are used to control arrhythmia's - and Seungmin might just function that way for the reader! Also, I’m really sorry for making Chan such an asshole.

Seungmin was a good best friend, even if he was determined to ruin his lungs with expensive cancer sticks.

I had once tried to help him break the bad habit - stealing the cigarette boxes that he bought from the store and tossing them into the trash. But Seungmin made it rather difficult to break his addiction, and when I found him digging through the trash one evening, trembling fingers bringing the lighter up to his lips, I stopped trying to help him. And it might seem like a shitty thing for a best friend to abandon, but I was really tired of seeing my efforts die in vain when Seungmin made it loud and clear that he wasn’t willing to relent.

However, I was probably the worst person in the world to preach against his vices, especially when mine were far more consequential. Ironically, if I was to compare our biggest slights, then I might find a lot of similarities between our horrible habits. For instance, we were both prisoners to something toxic, and it was hard to push out those dark shadows when they had already snuffed out most of the light.

But at least Seungmin still had some control over his autonomy whereas I had allowed a single man to dictate every aspect of my existence. He decided the clothes that I would wear to his fancy office, and the things that I was allowed to do to my own person. He enacted so many rules that I could barely keep up with them, and he frequently reminded me that I was supposed to comply with whatever he demanded because I signed a foolish contract.

In the end, it was my fault for becoming so involved, but I could always rely on Seungmin for companionship when I felt another bout of existential dread. Because Seungmin was a good listener, and he made an effort to understand my problems even when he didn’t agree with my decisions. It was one of the things that I liked most about him, and I watched him with indifferent eyes as he stomped out his cigarette against the sidewalk.

Thereafter, his breath vaporized against the frigid air, and it was the only reminder that it was cold because my body had already grown numb to the sensation. “What happened this time?” Seungmin asked, raising a brow in question.

It was a deceivingly simple question because there was no straightforward answer that I could offer him in response. Instead, I shrugged while trying to collect my thoughts. Because I still wasn’t really sure how I felt about my latest rendezvous with him, but I knew for certain that it had affected me more than the other times.

“It was different,” I replied, and Seungmin nodded.

“Did he hurt you?” Seungmin asked.

“Yes, but not the kind of hurt that you’re thinking about,” I said.

“Well, that’s still fucked up,” Seungmin said. “Tell me everything.”

Oh, but there was so much to tell him, and my mind instantly brought me back to the very beginning when I signed my name on a contract that promised so much only to deliver nothing but pain.

Six Months Ago

The worst decision of my life was predicated on my desperation for cash, and I was almost at the point where I would do anything to see another zero on my bank statement.

When I first moved to California, I had a lot of big dreams, and I was so excited to secure a scholarship to a highly-accredited University. It seemed that the world was finally on my side, and I left my home on the east coast to start a new life with more opportunities. Everything was going according to plan, and there was nothing preventing my success.

Except for me, of course.

And it happened during the events of a single evening when I decided to attend a fraternity party on campus that my roommate recommended. The music was loud, the alcohol was unlimited, and any prior inhibitions had been thrown out the window much to my own detriment. I forgot all about my responsibilities, and I made one careless decision after another until I ended up in bed with a stranger.

I don’t even remember his name, but he was just one of the students who got busted by the police that night. Apparently, someone next door ratted us out, and they discovered a bunch of under-age students drinking alcohol without any supervision, including myself. But when the University found out, my scholarship was taken away, and my parents refused to send me extra money for tuition because they were determined to bring me back home.

But I wasn’t about to let one night ruin everything, and it was my roommate’s idea to suggest the stupid website. “It’s like a Sugar Daddy thing,” my roommate giggled. “All you have to do is sign-up, and then they’ll email you if there’s any interest.”

“Interest?”

“Well, they’ll probably want something from you in exchange for money.”

“How much money?”

“I guess that’s up to you to decide.”

Tragically, I was too desperate to consider the consequences, and I signed up without even thinking about the potential for disaster. And within a week, I got several emails from old misers offering me loads of cash in exchange for services that ranged from a private escort request to more explicit favors. But none of them stood out to me, especially in comparison to the young CEO who claimed to only be 28-years-old, but I could hardly believe his profile.

Still, I decided to entertain him, and I organized a meeting at a neutral location just in case anything funny happened. But I was still shocked to see the same man from the pictures waiting for me inside the coffee shop. And he was just as handsome as he appeared online: long, curly blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and a broad smile that took my breath away.

“Y/N?” he asked when I cautiously approached the table.

“Mr. Bang Chan?” I returned, and he laughed while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal strong, muscular arms.

“That’s me,” he said. “You can sit down if you want.”

“Of course,” I said, feeling rather foolish after standing there for so long. “I’m sorry, but I was really surprised because I honestly thought you might by lying about your age.”

“Why would you think that?” he asked, and I easily detected an accent carrying his words.

“Uh, considering the circumstances,” I said with a wince. “I feel like you could have any woman you want.”

“Oh?” Chan asked while raising one brow suggestively. “Maybe I just want you.”

“R-really?” I stuttered while wondering if I had made a good decision when I wore a skirt that afternoon. “You can probably tell that I’ve never done this before.”

“That’s alright,” Chan reassured me. “I don’t have much experience either.”

It seemed too good to be true - like there wasn’t any logical explanation for why this incredibly sexy businessman had signed up for some Sugar Daddy website when all he had to do was blink in my direction and I was already falling for him hard. “So, I guess you expect something from me.”

“I like how you do business,” Chan remarked. “We can skip all the formalities, then?”

“If you want,” I said, still feeling a bit sheepish as I glanced down at the table.

“From you, Y/N,” Chan continued. “I want a partner.”

“In what sense?” I asked. “Are you talking about something...sexual?”

“I’d really like that,” Chan said with a seductive smile. “But only if you’re interested.”

“Definitely,” I quickly agreed, throwing all caution to the wind as I surrendered to his ridiculous charisma.

“In return, you can have whatever you want,” Chan said. “Money isn’t an issue for me.”

“I really just need money for my tuition.”

“Is that all?” Chan scoffed as if he was in disbelief. “There’s got to be something else.”

I hesitated for a moment, wondering why it was so hard to ask him for those extravagances when the entire premise of our meeting rested on the basis of one exchange for another. “My apartment,” I said. “I plan to get a job in the future, but I’m struggling with rent.”

“Fuck the job,” Chan said. “I don’t mind paying your rent.” He smirked as he leaned back against the booth with a sigh. “I used to be a college student, Y/N, and I had problems paying for those things too.”

His attitude was nothing but nonchalant, and our terms were settled without a single complaint. Eventually, the deal was finalized when I met him later that evening at his lavish penthouse apartment, signing my name at the bottom of an exclusive contract that I hadn’t even taken the time to read.

“It’s done,” Chan declared, and I watched his forearms bulge as he applied pressure to the official stamp. “We can have some fun together,” he added, and the look he gave me was nothing short of predatory. “Tell me, Y/N. Are you a virgin?”

“No, sir,” I said, watching him throw the contract aside onto the coffee table.

“Good,” he purred while slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you take birth control? I hate fucking with condoms.”

“Yes,” I whispered, and there wasn’t an ounce of shame in my entire being when I studied the hard planes of his upper torso once his chest was exposed to the room.

Did I really just a sign a deal with a real-life Adonis?

“I’m gonna have a taste of that sweet cunt tonight,” Chan said, and one hand palmed himself over the front of his pants. “Bend over the couch for me, and keep your legs spread.”

“O-okay,” I agreed, hesitating because I wasn’t expecting him to move so fast, but I also knew that it was a foolish thought. What else should I have anticipated? There’s only one thing he wanted from me, and it’s not like it proceeded a romantic dinner or a long walk on the beach.

But it was still jarring to feel someone else’s hands on my hips - someone older and far more experienced. And his hands were proof of that confidence, perfectly assured in their motions as they drug my panties down my legs, fingers prodding against the folds of my labia. “You’re not wet enough,” Chan remarked, and I blushed because I was afraid that I had been doing something wrong. “We’ll just use lube.”

I flinched when I heard a loud POP! echo throughout the room when he opened a bottle from behind me. Then, I startled when something cold penetrated between my thighs because I wasn’t used to the overbearing sensation, and the flex of his fingers were incredibly thorough as they explored the private walls stretched around his intrusion. It felt nice, though, feeling him moving around, brushing against sensitive zones that had me moaning against the cushions.

“What a good slut,” Chan said, and I found myself whimpering at the derogatory term. “Let me use my cock instead.”

I gasped when his fingers disappeared in the middle of my approaching orgasm, leaving me clenching desperately for something to fill up the places that had left empty. But the sound of Chan shuffling out of his pants was reassuring, and he was nothing but teasing when he slid the head of his cock up and down my entrance. Spreading his pre-cum while prodding against me with the tip of his erection.

If I hadn’t been wet before, then I was positively drenching from the surprisingly playful foreplay. “Please,” I whined, and he must’ve been feeling merciful since it was our first meeting because he pushed himself the rest of the way inside between my walls with a grunt. Satisfying that persistent ache which demanded some sort of satisfaction from the fat cock splitting me with every aggressive plunge against my g-spot.

“There we go,” Chan hissed, and his fingernails dug into my skin while he rolled my hips back onto his cock - repeating the motion with a sensual rhythm that was slow but fulfilling. Deep and full. Pounding into my hips with every thrust and chanting obscenities into the air while the smell of sex hit me with as much force as his thighs knocking against mine. “Feels so good around me.”

I moaned at his husky tone, and slid further down the armrest of the couch because my clit was rubbing deliciously against the furniture that he had bent me over, and I focused on the addicting friction and the impression of his cock drilling inside my pussy until I came with a loud moan.

“Shit,” Chan cursed when I clenched even tighter around him, and the pleasure was like a dramatic rise - a climactic high - and I fell back into the moment with my heart pounding against my chest while Chan continued to plummet his cock into the stimulated entrance of my cunt before I felt his cum trickle down the inside of my legs.

“Good girl,” Chan said, and he landed a sharp slap to my ass before he was walking out of the room, stuffing his cock back into his pants while I looked down at my hands and wondered what I was supposed to do next.

And several long minutes passed before I realized that Chan wasn’t coming back, and I tried to ignore the sensation of his cum drying on my skin as I pulled my skirt back on over my sore hips.

Is this how it would be every time?

I grimaced at the thought, but I knew it was still a better alternative than returning home to my disappointed parents. Because Chan would at least help me stay in school, and he wasn’t really asking for that much in return.

Right?

But my heart was aching when I left his penthouse around midnight, returning to the shared apartment with my roommate and slinking into the shower while doing my best to remain quiet. Unfortunately, my thoughts were starting to become more rampant - louder than the prevailing silence - and I couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter with Chan. Because it was the second time that a random stranger had fucked me without consideration, and I would never forget how I felt in that moment, scalding my skin under hot water while scrubbing insistently with my fingernails scratching across my arms.

And I went to sleep that night thinking about the future for the first time since I lost my scholarship. For instance, how long would I have to keep doing this? Can it really end after my graduation?

Needless to say, I was unable to reacquaint myself with the familiar comforts of sleep, and I woke-up the next morning feeling like a much weaker version of myself. It was both a literal and metaphorical description for my current state of mind and physical being, and I forced myself to endure my regular routine so that I could leave for class on time.

But even as I was starting to feel better again, savoring the cool air of the morning as I walked through campus, everything was ruined when I received an unanticipated phone call from Chan around lunchtime:

“Can you come into my office today?” Chan asked, and I checked my watch.

“I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Perfect,” Chan said, and I hung up the phone before jogging to the bus stop.

The Voyeur

Chan’s office building was extravagant, and I had trouble finding his company because it seemed like there was no end to the numerous corridors. Thankfully, a polite worker was willing to steer me in the right direction, and I greeted Chan’s secretary with a nervous exhale of my name.

“He’s waiting for you inside,” she said with a bright smile. “But make sure to lock the door behind you.”

“Oh, sure,” I said, puzzled by the strange request, but I entered the room with a dismissive shrug, glancing back to turn the lock before stumbling in my steps when I realized that someone who was not Chan stood in the middle of the room.

He was a younger associate, and his hair was slicked back with some kind of product as he observed me with the faintest hint of a smirk. “You must be Chan’s newest plaything.”

I gasped at the stranger’s words. “Chan-” I attempted to call for him, but cold fingers wrapped themselves around my throat in warning.

“Shhh,” Chan whispered into my ear, and I trembled when one of his hands went down to the waistband of my skirt. “You’re right on time, Y/N.”

“Sir,” I said, trembling when he found my clit through the fabric, applying rough circles with a growl.

“Go sit on top of the desk for me,” Chan said. “Take off your skit and panties.”

“But there’s someone else-”

“Did you not hear me?” Chan interrupted, and there was an intimidating warning in his eyes that I found myself unable to ignore.

“Yes, sir,” I said in compliance, and I tried not to think about the situation unfolding in front of me. Instead, I carefully walked around the unfamiliar man without making eye contact, even though his gaze was focused on me the entire time. “Is this what you wanted me to see?” the newcomer asked, and I startled at the sound of his voice as I slipped out of my clothes.

“I think she’s your type,” Chan said, and he nonchalantly strolled through the room with his hands tucked into his pockets. “This is what you like, Jisung? Sit back and relax.”

Jisung pursed his lips as he found a comfortable position on one of the futons, and I gasped when I realized that he had unzipped his pants, fishing out his cock while casually stroking the full length of his erection, gaze fixed on the place where Chan was standing in front of me.

“Bend over, whore,” Chan growled, and I turned around in an instant, shivering when he forced my legs to spread even further apart, applying pressure to my lower back as I arched even higher for him. “Have you ever seen a prettier cunt?”

“Finger her for me,” Jisung requested, and I closed my eyes when Chan penetrated three fingers inside at once. Because it was a distant shout from his treatment the previous night, and I found myself enduring the pain from being aggressively handled.

“Is this to your satisfaction?” Chan asked, and he was moving lightning fast, thrusting his fingers so fast that my body wasn’t sure how to process the rapidly growing pressure building with every curl of his wrist.

“Fuck her then,” Jisung said, and I could hear the slick sound of his hand moving on his cock to match the pace of Chan’s motions inside of me.

“No problem,” Chan said, and his cock replaced his fingers with one harsh plunge, forcing my hips to collide with the side of his desk as he started an unrelenting pace, hands holding tight to my waist as he treated me as nothing more than his personal cock-sleeve.

My pleasure wasn’t a concern, and I could tell because he never once asked me if I was feeling good. Instead, he panted like a dog into my ears, groping along my chest while rolling his hips up into mine - grinding his cock as deep as he could manage.

“Chan...” I trailed off at one point because there would surely be bruises once he was done with me.

“Is there a problem, Y/N?” he asked, and I quickly shook my head even as he started thrusting even harder, forcing his cock even deeper inside my gaping core - brushing against previously untouched places that awakened something almost feral.

“No, sir,” I managed, choking around a moan when his fingers tightened around my throat again.

“He likes to watch,” Chan whispered, slowing down to a sensual grind while he spoke to me. “It gets him off every time.”

“I didn’t know,” I said in return, even though no response was really warranted.

Especially when Chan leaned back once again, picking up from where he had left off from before, and there was a stuttered hiccup to the way he moved - like he was nearing his own breaking point. His fingers curled themselves into my hair, forcing my head to the side to meet Jisung’s unwavering gaze.

“Jisung,” Chan said, and the voyeur himself looked up at the two of us with lust reflecting in his eyes. “Is it everything you wanted?”

“Keep going,” Jisung simply said in return, and Chan was laughing in the moments preceding his orgasm, spilling his seed between my convulsing walls before pulling out with a groan.

“You did good, Y/N,” Chan said, and he reached down for my discarded skirt.

Meanwhile, I glanced around Chan to see Jisung reaching for the tissue box on the table. “Thank you for the show, Mr. Bang.” Jisung said, and he cleaned off his cock before tucking himself back into his jeans.

The Sadist

That unexpected situation should’ve been the first and only sign required for me to break off the engagement with Bang Chan, but I was starting to grow addicted to the ostentatious gifts that he sent me.

Because on that same afternoon, I returned to my apartment to find a brand new SUV waiting for me outside my complex. It was the newest model, and my roommate was hysterical with excitement as she jumped around the front lawn and told me all about how a random man had brought the car to our apartment asking for me.

“I don’t know who you’re seeing,” my roommate remarked. “But if he keeps doing this kind of thing...”

“Yeah,” I agreed with a faint smile, and there was still an active part of me that thought I could put up with Chan if it meant receiving things like this in return.

Plus, I somehow deluded myself into thinking that everything was fine, and I guess my lectures on argumentative writing must’ve worked too well because I convinced my stubborn brain to endure the arrangement for a little while longer.

It also helped that Chan hadn’t spoken to me much in the week following our little date in his office, and I was able to forget about the encounter with Jisung. Plus, my tuition was paid, my bank account was full, and there were always expensive things allowing me to take advantage of a lavish lifestyle.

It was hard to argue against the current trajectory of my situation, but there was still a painful reminder of its price when Chan eventually called me the following Friday with another request:

“I’m having a guest over tonight,” Chan said. “And you’re the entertainment.”

I swallowed hard at his brusque tone. “Entertainment?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Chan reassured me, and I could only process his words while the dial tone played in the background.

But maybe I could handle the addition of a guest, especially if it was just Jisung or someone watching again. That hadn’t been so bad, and the worst part was the initial shock of seeing another man in the same room.

Maybe I was just overreacting, and this would be a regular night where Chan would fuck me in his bed and I would limp home and sleep on the brand new satin comforter he had bought for me.

Unfortunately, my initial enthusiasm was dulled when I knocked on the door to Chan’s penthouse, and he answered my summons with another man lingering in the background. But the other man wasn’t Jisung, and a single chill rolled down my spine when Chan’s guest turned around to look at me for the very first time. “You’re early,” Chan said with a pleasant smile. “We were just pouring ourselves some drinks.”

“That sounds nice,” I said, allowing Chan to take my coat before he led me into the living room.

“This is my associate, Lee Minho,” Chan said, nodding in the direction of the freshly identified man who was unreasonably handsome as he sat down across the room.

“The pleasure is mine,” Minho said with a smirk, and I had no words to match his arrogance, but Chan pulled me into his lap and I took some strange comfort from his embrace.

“Minho and I have been friends for years.”

“What a tragedy,” Minho remarked, and the simple jest was met with a chuckle from Chan who wrapped an arm around my waist.

“He was really excited to meet you as well.”

“Especially after listening to Jisung run his mouth,” Minho said, and I froze at the mention of the other man because that was the moment when everything started to plummet, and I could see the change in Minho’s gaze as he lowered his eyes to my chest.

“Can I see her tits?” Minho asked, holding his glass of scotch in one hand while the other disappeared down the front of his pants.

“Of course,” Chan said, and he didn’t seem to care at all about his friend’s vulgar request, pulling me back against his chest as his fingers worked apart the buttons on my blouse. “She doesn’t mind. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

I shook my head, paralyzed by Minho’s impenetrable gaze as he inhaled sharply when Chan removed the shirt from my arms. “Those are nice.”

“Aren’t they?” Chan agreed, and his fingers tweaked my nipples. But I shivered at the pressure, nearly jumping in his lap from the sudden stimulation as his thumbs rolled across the hardening buds.

“You ever fucked them before?” Minho asked, parting his lips around the rim of his glass.

“No,” Chan said, and his tone reflected his disappointment. “I guess I’ll have to try that in the future.”

“They’re a good size,” Minho remarked, and I couldn’t help but feel humiliated because they were talking about me in such a vulgar manner - like I was just a piece of meat on display for them.

“I like her tits,” Chan agreed. “But I think her ass is my favorite.”

Minho scoffed at that. “Isn’t that always your preference?”

“Why do you think I like fucking her from behind?” Chan laughed, and Minho smiled before draining the rest of his alcohol.

“Where did you get her?” Minho asked, and I watched as he removed his expensive suit jacket.

“Do you remember that website Jisung showed me?” Chan smirked. “It’s probably the best idea that he’s ever had.”

“Mhmm,” Minho agreed, and his lecherous eyes continued to openly stare at my breasts. “Has Changbin seen her yet?”

“No,” Chan said, and then he sighed. “I’m afraid to introduce them.”

“She’s exactly his type,” Minho remarked. “He’ll want to fuck her for sure, and I doubt you’ll tell him no.”

“He’s convincing,” Chan said, and he smirked while his lips pressed wet kisses against my neck and his hands massaged my breasts. “What would you want to do with her?”

“Me?” Minho chuckled, and his dark eyes were appraising. “I’d probably fuck her mouth, and then maybe cum on her tits.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Chan said, and then he was shoving against me from behind. “Get on your knees,” Chan growled into my ear, and I shivered at the guttural sound before falling from his lap and into the floor.

Meanwhile, Minho continued to watch me while stroking his cock, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “Is this an invitation?”

“Take her mouth,” Chan said, and he reached out for his discarded glass of brandy. “I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Minho smirked in response, and he pulled the occupied hand from his pants long enough to stand up from the couch, taking another step forward until his crotch was level with my face. “Is that true, little girl?” Minho asked, and I held my tongue when his fingers traced across my lips. “Do you want to suck my cock?”

I could feel Chan’s eyes on me, and I knew better than to disobey. “Yes,” I whispered, and Minho closed his eyes around a groan.

“Channie picked a good little cocksucker,” he said, and he quickly undid his pants, pulling them down his thighs along with his boxers. I inhaled when his cock was freed from the confines of his underwear, slapping against his stomach with a bead of pre-cum waiting on the tip. “Go ahead,” Minho said. “Let’s see what you can do for me.”

I swallowed hard, and I decided to start with a few strokes of his hardening erection - feeling the length of him under my hand because I knew that it would be painful to fit him inside my mouth. “Don’t tease,” Chan said, and I shivered at his harsh tone.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I decided not to waste another moment before I was parting my lips around the head of Minho’s cock, tasting the gathered pre-cum on his tip. It was bitter because it was overwhelming, and my jaw was already aching as I hollowed my cheeks and tried to prevent my teeth from scraping across the sensitive underside of his erection.

“Harder,” Minho growled, and he reached down to grab fistfuls of my hair while forcing the remainder of his cock down my throat - triggering my gag reflex with the sudden motion.

“I guess she’s not used to it,” Chan remarked - like it wasn’t a big deal that I could barely breathe around the intrusion, and spit was dripping from my lips as he proceeded to use me like I was nothing more than a warm space to fill with his cock.

“I’ll teach her for you,” Minho said, but it wasn’t a kindness to feel the tip of his cock hit the soft palate of my mouth, dragging between my lips as he ground his hips while moaning around a curse.

But I still tried my best, sucking at the skin and using my tongue to trace against the ridges. I also kept my hands firmly behind my back, trying my best not to reach out for his thighs because I was afraid that he wouldn’t appreciate the feeling of my nails digging into my skin. Not that he seemed to be extending the same courtesy - fucking my mouth with loud grunts and tugging on my hair with enough force that my scalp was screaming for me to intervene.

“Does it feel good?” Chan asked.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Minho said, and his eyes were glossy from the alcohol settling into his system and the approaching orgasm which I could taste as I tried my best to swallow around him.

And it was almost disorienting when he pulled himself free, keeping one hand in my hair while the other stared to stroke the length of his erection with rapid jerks. “Look at me,” Minho growled, and I forced my gaze to meet his own. “I’m gonna cum on your tits,” Minho snarled, twisting my hair as I did my best to nod around the impossible hold.

“Shit, that’s hot,” Chan whispered, and I closed my eyes when Minho finally came, spraying his hot cum across my chest as his thighs trembled from the effort.

“Damn,” Minho said, and he took a strategic step back to survey me from afar. “She looks better this way.”

“I definitely agree,” Chan said, but I only felt disgusting as I sat there on my knees with their eyes observing my wilted figure.

The Participant

For an entire week after my encounter with Minho, every time I spoke, or did something as simple as drink or eat with my friends, I was reminded of him.

It wasn’t necessarily the worst thing that had ever happened to me, and I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that had been aroused at the idea of Minho’s rough treatment. But the problem emerged from the lack of disclosure from Chan because he seemed to take impressive liberties with the contract. And I didn’t mind having sex with the older man since I gave him my full consent, but these surprises that he sprung on me when I wasn’t expecting them? I wasn’t entirely happy about those.

In fact, the more that I thought about the incident with both Minho and Jisung, the more infuriated I became, and I couldn’t help the brusque tone that I used to greet Chan over the phone when he randomly contacted me the following weekend.

“Someone’s having a bad day,” Chan said, and I didn’t appreciate his accompanying laughter.

“It’s just my classes,” I offered as a response, pinching the bridge of my nose to try and prevent an oncoming headache.

“I hope it’s not too bad because I’d like for you to meet me in the office,” Chan said, and I agreed without really thinking about the consequences. Because the last time I went to Chan’s office, I found myself being fucked on top of his desk with an executive watching in the background.

But I guess this was what I had literally signed up for, and Chan couldn’t possibly know that I hated our most recent encounters because I still wasn’t able to find the confidence to tell him. And maybe it was better this way since our arrangement was nothing but a superficial agreement between two consenting adults - we were both getting something out of it, and I didn’t want to risk losing the invaluable funding that he sent to my stunningly healthy bank account.

Instead, I put on my best smile for him when I walked into his office, greeting him at his Secretary’s desk as she offered me a courteous welcome. Does she know what’s going on? I wondered to myself when Chan took my hand and led me to the giant executive desk where he worked.

He chuckled when he patted his lap, and I dropped my bag onto the floor before dropping myself down between his strong thighs. “There you are,” Chan said with a smirk, tracing the pout of my lips with his thumb. “You look sexy today.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I hated to sound so timid in front of him, but he was still beyond intimidating, and I never knew what to expect from someone who continued to surprise me.

“I’ve missed you,” Chan said, and I hesitated when his hands found the hem of my t-shirt, crawling along the skin of my torso to hold me in place. “Last time was really fun.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, but it wasn’t very convincing. Thankfully, Chan didn’t seem to notice, and he brought me in for a sloppy kiss so that I could taste the mouth wash on his tongue.

“Let’s take a walk around the office,” Chan said, and I agreed because it seemed relatively normal in comparison to what he usually asked from me.

It was also startling domestic to hold his hand as he walked me through the maze of cubicles, talking about taxes and the stock market and whatever else he found interesting. In response to most of his conversation, I found myself nodding because I couldn’t comprehend his big text jargon or the complicated explanation when it involved his return on investment numbers.

“How about some lunch?” Chan suggested, and I agreed even though my stomach had twisted itself into knots during the ride over here.

However, when Chan reached out to hit the button to call for the elevator, he paused when he made eye-contact with someone walking out of the conference room. He sighed as he turned me around. “This is awkward,” Chan said, and I noticed that the tips of his ears were bright red. “I may have shown Changbin some pictures of you and....” Chan trailed off with a smile. “He really liked what I showed him.”

“Changbin?” I questioned, and Chan jerked his head to the side to indicate the exceedingly handsome gentleman who was lingering outside of the conference room with his eyes glued in our direction.

“Changbin really likes you,” Chan whispered, smiling as he allowed one hand to fall down and palm my ass.

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and I felt my entire face flush when I realized that it had come from Changbin. He was brazenly eye-fucking me from where he was standing, and I couldn’t even imagine the dirty thoughts running through his mind.

“He wants to fuck you,” Chan continued as if we were having a conversation about something as casual as the weather. “And I kinda want to see him pound this little pussy.”

He then audaciously cupped the heat between my legs and I squirmed around in his arms because we were in public. “What are you doing?” I asked, and there was every reason to panic when anyone could see us like this - when Changbin was already looking at us like we were incredibly interesting.

“He’s got a really big cock,” Chan added like that was supposed to convince me. “But I know that you’ll do it for me, right?”

I hesitated at his request, glancing back over my shoulder at Changbin who was still watching the two of us with a predatory gaze. “When?”

“Tonight,” Chan said before pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to my lips. “I’ll have something nice sent to your apartment. Wear it for us, won’t you?”

“Of course,” I agreed, and the response sounded robotic even to my own ears.

True to his word, Chan had sent over a rather scandalous pair of lingerie to my apartment - a matching set of underwear that included a red thong and delicate bralette with lace elegantly lining the comfortable padding. There was also a very short black shirt in the package and a thin camisole which wasn’t meant to cover much of me. And I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror when I realized that I looked like someone out of Chan’s wet dream.

But instead of walking through campus with such an appearance, I had wrapped my scantily-clad form in a long coat when I greeted Chan that night outside of his apartment, hoping that he wouldn’t question my desire to ride the bus in something more appropriate for public viewing. But maybe he was too turned on to scold me, dragging me inside his apartment and closing the door before opening the front of my coat.

“Fuck,” he growled when he saw me in my outfit. “You look so good in this.”

“Thank you,” I whispered in return, and Chan tossed aside my coat while reaching down for my hand.

“There’s no reason to delay tonight’s fun,” he commented. “Changbin’s already waiting in the bedroom,” he said.

I swallowed hard the mention of the other man, trying to piece together my disorganized thoughts when Chan invited me inside the lavish bedroom that was the exact same size as my entire apartment. But I also wasn’t surprised by the ostentatious reminder of his tremendous wealth, especially when I realized that there was someone waiting inside just as Chan had promised. The same man from earlier at the office was sitting in a chair near the corner of the room, dressed in his work suit and looking at me from beneath a fringe of blonde hair while his fingers tightened around his whisky glass.

“You were so patient, Bin,” Chan remarked as he reached down to remove his shirt.

“I think she’s worth it,” Changbin replied, and I tried not to squirm too much under his impenetrable gaze.

“What do you think of her outfit?” Chan asked, and he smirked while squeezing my ass through the skit.

“I’d rather see what’s underneath,” Changbin said, and his attitude was so nonchalant that I couldn’t deny that a small part of me was attracted to his eagerness.

“That can be arranged,” Chan agreed, and I held perfectly still as he removed my tank top before jerking my skirt down my thighs.

He didn’t even need to tell me to step out of the offending piece of fabric, sliding it across the floor as I stood in front of Changbin in nothing more than the skimpy lingerie that Chan had chosen for me. “Damn,” Changbin grumbled, and one hand slid down his chest before settling on top of the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Shall we start?” Chan grinned, and I watched as he walked over to the bed to make himself more comfortable on top of the mattress before holding out his arms for me. “Come here, Y/N.”

I nodded, crawling over the silken sheets while Chan whispered compliments into the silent bedroom. “She’s so fucking hot,” Changbin remarked, and I held my breath when Chan used his raw strength to turn me around - bringing my back flush against his chest as one arm wrapped itself across my chest. I shivered in response to his impressive muscles, pressing myself even closer to him while his other hand crept down to remove my panties

“Look at this,” Chan whispered, ripping the fabric and exposing my bottom half for Changbin’s eyes. “Such a pretty cunt.”

Changbin inhaled sharply at the exposed skin, and he stood from the chair to walk over the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes because he was shameless, palming his erection over his pants while his eyes glued themselves between my thighs. “Spread her legs for me.”

Chan nodded, and I could feel the way his fingers parted the wet folds of my labia before he drug his thumb along my sensitive clitoris.

“Oh, fuck,” Changbin growled, and his eyes were bright with lust as Chan continued to tease my throbbing sex while mouthing kisses against my throat.

“Do you see something you like?” Chan asked his friend as if the question was even necessary.

“Let me fuck her, Chan,” Changbin snarled, and I watched as he unzipped his suit pants before dropping them to the floor along with his boxer shorts, fisting his cock in one hand while the other worked at the buttons on his shirt.

“I don’t know...” Chan trailed off with a teasing tone. “I’m not really in the mood to share.”

“We both know that's a lie,” Changbin said with a humorless laugh. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

I bit my tongue to hold back a moan when one of Chan’s fingers penetrated my tight walls, putting on a show for Changbin as he maintained eye contact with his business partner. It was like they were engaged in some sort of competition over me, and I was melting from Chan’s ministrations, feeling him move around with his fingers curling against all the right spots. He also started to scissor his fingers to stretch me out in preparation for whatever else might happen, and Changbin whimpered as he continued to stroke his hand up and down the impressive length of his throbbing cock.

“I guess you can have it,” Chan said, and I yelped when he shoved me off his lap, tossing his legs over the side of the bed. “Hands and knees,” Chan barked, slapping my ass for good measure before he walked over to the same chair in the corner of the room. “You’ll be a good slut for Changbin.”

I whimpered at the rough treatment, and I tried to avoid Changbin’s gaze as I positioned myself on the center of the bed, dropping down onto my forearms while I raised my ass high in the air. I was breathing hard against the sheets, feeling my pulse skyrocket when the bed dipped beneath Changbin’s weight as he mounted me from behind.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, and I shook my head when he started to grope my ass, pulling apart my cheeks as his fingers prodded against the dripping entrance to my cunt. “Say my name, slut!”

I nearly screamed from the force of the slap he landed on my ass, and I took a deep breath to manage the pain. “Please, Changbin,” I sniffled, and there was nothing but blinding hot pleasure when he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down my slit.

However, he wasn’t nearly as patient as Chan, and I was shaking around the abrupt intrusion of his cock. He also wasn’t gentle, holding my hips with a bruising grip before he fucked his cock inside my wet heat, leaving me no room to breathe before he was driving his hips against mine like there wasn’t enough time in the world to split me open for him. “Shit,” Changbin hissed, and I was powerless when he shoved my face down into the pillows, forcing me back into an even deeper arch.

“Play nice, Bin,” Chan said, and I could barely spot him from the corner of my eye. “You know I don’t like it when you break my toys.”

“Can’t help it,” Changbin grunted, and I could feel the fat head of his cock brushing against my cervix.

“She feels good right?” Chan asked, and I finally located him, following his voice to see that he was rubbing his erection through the tented fabric of his pants.

“Her cunt is tight,” Changbin agreed, and he wasn’t even thrusting anymore; instead, he was manhandling me up and down his cock, slamming his hips against mine and filling the room with the sounds of wet slaps and crude moans as he chased his own pleasure.

He was fucking me like a madman, breath hot on the back of my neck. Everything was fast and hard, and the sound of the headboard hitting the wall was especially loud. “Fuck,” Changbin muttered, and I thought he might be slowing down, but he just adjusted his grip and set a brutal pace and fucked me even harder.

It was all too much, and I wasn’t expecting to come, but when he lifted one of my legs for a better angle, I felt a sudden wave of arousal drip around Changbin’s thick erection because he was scraping across my G-spot with every stroke. I moaned at the direct stimulation, and it felt like there was an impossible pressure building at the center of my abdomen, stretching and stretching until my vision nearly blacked out from the intensity of my orgasm.

“Yes!” Changbin groaned when I inadvertently squeezed around his cock even tighter, providing enough pressure to trigger his own orgasm. And I could feel his warm cum as it decorated the cavern of my pussy, escaping the place where we were connected with a squelching sound when he eventually pulled out.

“What a mess,” Chan groaned.

“Such a good little whore,” Changbin purred, reaching down to stuff his cum back inside where it belonged. I whined at the over-stimulation, but Changbin growled in response and slapped my ass hard. “I want one more round,” Changbin declared, leaving me lying on the bed as he rolled over to the side.

“Sure,” Chan agreed, and I felt his hand soothing along the side of my face as he wiped away my tears. “How long do you need to get it back up, old man?”

“Shut up,” Changbin muttered. “Give me ten minutes.”

‘Well, that’s all I need,” Chan remarked, and I whimpered when he took his turn to mount me from behind, twisting his fingers into my hair as he slid his cock inside with one hard thrust, grinding his hips in long, sensual circles while whispering the filthiest words into my ears.

Present

It wasn’t very much like me to reveal all those intimate secrets, but something about Seungmin’s presence was safe and comforting. “What an asshole,” Seungmin remarked, discarding a fresh cigarette that he hadn’t even bothered lighting before returning his attention to me. “You deserve so much better than him.”

“He pays for everything,” I said. “He pays for my tuition, and he sends checks for the rent...”

“So?” Seungmin scoffed. “I can help you get a job at the diner where I work. You can make enough money to pay for those things without him.”

“It’s just so hard...” I broke off with a sudden exclamation, and my emotions were spilling out despite my attempts to suppress them, holding Seungmin even closer by the collar of his jacket as I sobbed into his shoulder. “He owns me.”

“No, he doesn’t, Y/N,” Seungmin said with a firm tone. “Do you understand me?”

I shook my head. “I signed a contract!”

“Every contract has a loophole,” Seungmin said. “And I’m sure it expires at some point, or you can negotiate your way out of the terms!”

“He’s a businessman,” I argued. “There’s no way I can win.”

“Not with that attitude,” Seungmin said with a fierce look. “You’re not alone, Y/N. I’ll even help you figure out how to leave him, but that’s what you need to do because this relationship is not good for you!”

“I kept telling myself that I didn’t care,” I whispered, sighing when Seungmin carded his fingers through my hair. “I guess I cared too much.”

“It’s alright,” Seungmin said, holding me close as he spoke reassurances into my stubborn ears.

“I’m scared, Seungmin,” I told him, and he nodded.

“I’ll give you all my strength,” he promised, and the sincerity of his words triggered a fresh wave of tears, and I cried while thinking about the difficult situation that I found myself in.

The idea of Chan’s arrangement had once been enchanting because everything he promised seemed like a dream come true. But the reality was nothing short of a nightmare. And I was suddenly desperate to escape.

#stayracha #skzwriternet #skzsmutnetwork #chan smut #chan fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids chan #stray kids chan fanfic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #mostlycompetent #requested

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limenysnocket · 3 years

Text

Attention and Company

I couldn't help myself. @honorarytenenbaum

Summary: Sometimes you need someone to chill with, and that's okay. Maybe that person is your boyfriend who also gets a little roughed up at work sometimes. Pubs can sustain you both for only so long, but what you really need is to curb yourselves in the mall parking lot, right next to a shaved ice food truck.

Warnings: Just some light swearing, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and some brief mentions to "raunchy" behavior. This is a soft fic for y'all tonight, out here needin' some gentle lovin'.

A/N: Got some lonely feelings right now. I just wanna hug someone, dude. Yo, we could totally watch a movie over discord sometime... maybe.

○●□○●□○●□○●□○

Today sucked. Flat out. The bags under your eyes didn't lie, and now here you were, outside of your studio, sitting on the hood of your car, eating a granola bar to stave off hunger for a few more hours. Hopefully.

You pull your phone from your pocket, looking at the time for a moment, then looking at your screensaver. It was the only thing that could make you smile. You had your arm wrapped around one of your closets friends, Taika, and the phone didn't capture it, but he had his arm wrapped around your waist. His curls were all messed up, and the picture perfectly showed how drunk you both were by the fuzzy pink on your cheeks. It was 99 cent beer night at one of the local pubs, and unlike the first one held at a baseball game, all went well.

Of course, there was a limit to how much the two of you were allowed to drink, but that didn't stop the many failed attempts at stealing other people's drinks while they were looking away, just to get a taste more. Didn't matter that you guys were eventually thrown out of the bar for breaking rules and coming close to breaking a few faces, you had a great night.

That night also lead to a few other places, including his hotel room, but that end of the story has to be saved for another time.

Instead of staring at your phone for another century, you decide to unlock it and dial the man up. You knew he was somewhere around here, either charming his way onto another movie set to mess with his rich friends, or getting his tired ass kicked by daylight savings.

His number was saved to your favorites, so dialing him was quick and easy. The wait for him to pick up didn't last long either.

"Talk to me..."

God, his voice sounds like one big yawn. Looks like he needs a bit of perking up too.

"I've got two curbside tickets to eat a snow cone and watch kids do loops on their bikes in the parking lot. One of those tickets has your name on them," you grin, despite sounding exhausted too. The day really made you strain your voice.

His musical laughter really makes the sun look brighter from its low position in the sky.

"That's oddly specific... where would these magical tickets take me afterwards?" He had cocked his eyebrows up and leaned against his office door while he spoke to you.

"If this were a booty call, I would have told you already, Taik," you snort and tease him. "So, it's either make yourself fat on some weirdly flavored snow cone, or take your horny-ass home."

"Okay, okay... I'd like to make myself fat for a night, as long as your there," his voice is dreamy, desperate and warm. "You there already?"

"Nope," your lips pop the p, "but I'm nearby."

"I swear to God, if you're talking and driving, I'm gonna whoop your ass," Taika stood up, acting serious when he was just really worried about your safety in general.

"I'm not, I'm fine," you laugh again. "Not even in the car. Sitting on it though, trying to convince the world's sexiest man to go out with me again."

"And you said this wasn't a booty call," he retorts over the phone, making you playfully glare at the asphalt on the road. It's like he's in front of you.

"You coming or not?" you change the subject and you hear him laugh again, but softer.

"Yeah... I'll be there in a few minutes, gorgeous."

He always made goodbyes so easy. Maybe it was because you both knew you would be seeing each other again, no matter what circumstances you were thrown into. But the dial tone still had its effects.

You slip off the hood of your car, and take a seat in the driver's seat. The warm summer air makes your skin glow, and your brain went fuzzy only imagining it doing the same to Taika.

The drive feels so quiet. For a moment, you actually thought about calling him again, but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't pick up if he was driving.

As predicted, kids are zooming around on their bikes, showing off to their friends or trying to be cool, even though they all were obviously teary-eyed each time they scraped a knee. It was amusing to you and Taika, especially when some of the older boys would try to catch your attention and zip past you and Taika. It ended up being a heckle fest in the end, and some kid always went home with his butt hurt.

Keys and wallet in hand, you trek to the small, blue trailer tucked in the corner of the parking lot.

"Damn, you must have beat me here by just a few seconds," Taika calls, rustling his way through the small spaces between a couple of cars.

"Well, you've never been a speed demon type, so last place is your calling when it comes to racing," you guwaf and grin at him. He rolls his eyes and comes to walk right next to you.

"I pride myself on road safety," he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You glance at him from the side, just to silently check up on him. His hair was tousled and his eyes were resteless. It looks like he had it rough from the start. He had struggled to get dressed this morning, but picked the most eccentric clothes in his closet to make up from his lack of sleep.

"Dare you to try the dill pickle flavor this time," his cocky tone wakes you up.

"Like hell I will," you snort as you finally reach the trailer, where a teen boy happily greets the both of you.

"Oh come on, it'll be funny," he eggs you on, his bottom lip pouting.

"Keep trying to make me get dill pickle, and the next time we have a movie night together, I'm getting the pizza," you sniff and he rolls his eyes. He thinks it is an odd threat. "And I'm making it all Hawaiian pizza." That got his attention.

"Bull shit, you would never. Not on a perfectly good pizza!" He gasps.

"Oh, just watch me, pineapple boy," you snicker and point to his pineapple print shorts. You break conversation to order two piña colada flavored snow cones. Taika usually took for-fucking-ever when it came to picking a single flavor, so ever since the second time you've been out here with him, he assigned you to choose for him. He usually got what you got.

Now, you wait.

You plop yourself down on the curb, as you promised, and he joined you with a long, loud groan. You give him a bewildered stare, wondering if his age had really gotten him this much. He smiles at you through a wince.

"Sat on my keys," he wheezes and chuckles at his own stupidity under his breath.

Your eyes float down to where he pulls out his keys and you start giggling quietly.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done the same thing," Taika says, not handling the fact that you have new material to mess with him, and also trying to get some stories out of you.

"Well yeah, but I don't sit down as violently as you do," you prod his bicep, and he laughs.

"Such a lady. Must sit down gracefully and slowly," he says, mocking an English accent, but he was horrible at accents so of course it was bad. You smack his bicep this time, and he playfully flinches, like it hurt.

"I really need to get you into some accent classes or some shit, before you get your teeth knocked out," you shake your head with a smile.

"What? I think I'm great at accents. My American accent is the best one yet, don't you think?" He smirks at you, and proceeds to demonstrate. "All you have to do is put an 'er' at the end of everything, right? That's totally how they speak around here."

"I would be careful, Mr. Waititi. Could get in some trouble if you say that too loudly," you roll your eyes, and he sighs. Yeah. Things were going to shit in LA. It was clear to everyone, but what could two hollywood producers do to stop things like that? Keep making films, you guess.

"Two, large piña coladas!"

You look up, and so does he.

"I'll get them," you volunteer, but he places his hand on your shoulder before you could get up.

"Let me," he speaks softly, in a damn near whisper.

He stands up and strides right over to the trailer with so much confidence, you're envious. He comes back with two large styrofoam cups in hand, spoons, and a warm smile. His smile was always warm. It set fire in your belly.

He sits down a bit more carefully this time, even though his car keys were sitting in the grass, far away from his landing zone. He hands you your cup and a spoon.

"Do these have alcohol in them?" He nudges you with your elbow and you shake your head.

"As if they would let a seventeen-year-old serve alcoholic beverages," you throw in logic.

"I dunno... ever been to a ballpark before? Pretty sure some of those kids are way too young to be peddling there too, but that doesn't stop people from hiring them," he says while pointing his spoon at you.

"Fair point," you finish, then look at your snow cone. You decide to start eating before it melts.

Silence swarms the air, but comfortably. There's the occasional murmur of cicadas or humming cars drowning them out. Birds would land on the scorching asphalt to pick at whatever crumbs were left by other patrons, before fluttering away at the sight of a zooming bike getting too close for comfort.

Taika will point out a few of the kids doing tricks. He picks his favorites for the night, and he keeps himself busy by watching them. You, on the other hand, are occupied with him. You examine him from the tips of his dirty white chucks, to his frazzled hairdo.

"You look like shit," you mutter. He barely pays you mind and that comment was hardly acknowledged. It was like the air had gone a bit stiffer. He was hiding something from you.

"What's going on, Taik?" you worry. He never kept things from you, unless they were hard to bear.

He sets his cup down and holds his hands together. He looks so tired. So solemn.

"Today was total shit," he whispers and runs a hand through his hair.

"Well, yeah, I get that. I wouldn't have known if you had looked a little spiffier," you say, reaching out and gently tucking a curl on his forehead back in place with all the rest of its friends.

"Look, I--..." he says, turning to you, lips parted slightly, and a yearning sensation bubbling from the tips of his fingers as he rests a single hand on you.

There were tough times with the occupancy you both, willingly, chose. The hardest part about it was making friends, or making love, then finding out you have to leave it behind for a new location the next morning.

"I have to leave... for Sydney..." he says, reaching to gently take your cheek into the palm of his hand.

"When?" you manage, though you were clearly becoming upset.

"In a few weeks. Thor is waiting for me," he sighs, barely able to look at you while his thumb rubbed your ample cheek.

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"I don't want to leave you," he says, tilting your head up just the slightest bit. "And I don't want to stop loving you."

Your eyes search his for a moment, wide and a bit confused.

"I thought you said we were just a fling with--"

He cuts you off, "A fling with benefits. I know..." he sighs again, "but every time I find myself waiting for you to call on a shitty day, each time you rest your head on my shoulder, all the times you smile at me and tease me, I find myself falling... more in love with you." He has to pause to breathe.

It's so quiet. Dangerously quiet.

"What happens if I love you too...?" you muster your courage, and look right into his expressive, brown eyes.

"I don't know," he says to you, thumb still rubbing circles.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" you breathe, and he nods.

Still as statues, you wait for words to touch the air. It's only when his foot makes a wrong move and knocks over his snow cone, does the tension break.

His bottom lip pouts for him again and you quietly pick his spoon up off the ground. You clean it on your shirt and hand it to him, all before taking your cup, and holding it out to share. He smiles down at you, taking his spoon from your hand and sticking it into the shaved ice.

Your head leans against his shoulder when the sun disappears behind the mall building.

"I love you too," you whisper.

"I know," he says back, sucking at the tip of his spoon.

"Think we can keep this up over the phone?" you ask, wondering about a brief virtual relationship, just until one of you catches a break.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" he says, lowering his spoon, wrapping his arm around you, and giving you his full attention.

#taika waititi #taika waititi x reader #fanfiction #taika waititi imagine #taika waititi imagines #taika waititi x you #taika waititi/you #fluffy

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kaaytea · 3 years

Note

Can I have some headcanons of miyuki dating coach Kataota daughter (if he had one since him having a daughter isn’t canon) and how would Kataota react to finding this information out

Ok wait this is such a fun idea tho 😶 I kinda go into detail about how his daughter would be involved with the team for a bit and this is a LONG post... I hope you don't mind 😅

Miyuki and Kataoka's daughter

Read more of the KDAU HERE

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

I feel like Miyuki wouldn't get into a relationship until the end of his first year/beginning of his second year

He was kinda thrown into the catcher position when Chris got injured so I feel like he probably put most, if not all, of his focus on the team

With that being said

The entire team knows Kataoka's daughter

She would hang around practices and go to all the games so everyone knows her (I feel like she would do this even before officially enrolling to Seidou. She had nothing better to do and liked watching the different dynamics of the team over the years)

She's really close with the third years because she's watched them grow from the messy batch of first years to the absolute power houses they were now

So in short, she's kinda like the third years little sister :')

Obviously she'd be very knowledgeable about baseball. When you grow up with a parent who's job is coaching you're bound to pick up things about the sport

I can definitely see her, if not being a manager, than at least helping them out a lot

Honestly I think she'd help out regardless if she was an official member of the team or not

Because Kataoka was a pitcher I think most of her knowledge would be on pitching

Which brings me to how she more formally meets Miyuki

Her father had entrusted her to take notes on how the main batterys were doing now that Chris had injured himself, leaving a first year catcher to take his place

Miyuki payed her no mind as she observed, only acknowledging her when she pointed out small mistakes the pitchers were making

Once she had finished watching the pitchers she instructed the group to return to the field for the remainder of practice. The girl lingered in the bullpen until it was just her and Miyuki

He wasn't expecting her to talk to him but she did, pointing out a few things he could work on with Tanba. Miyuki suspected she had waited for the others to leave so she wouldn't embarrass him, which irritated him slightly but was grateful for nonetheless. Everyone was still warming up to the idea of him replacing Chris so it was nice of her to refrain from saying something that would bring even more attention to him

They walked back to the field together making small talk as they went. Miyuki was surprised to find out she was in the same class as him, he had just never noticed her

Miyuki quickly understood why his upperclassmen were so fond of the girl. She was always nice to him and had a plethora of tips and tricks up her sleeve. Her constant presence in the bullpen led to an odd sort of friendship between the two

Miyuki always had the impression that people didn't like him very much -old teammates complained that he was horrendously arrogant and pushy- but he couldn't help how welcomed he felt when around the younger Kataoka, almost like he was drawn to her

At the beginning of his second year it became painfully obvious his feelings for her were anything but platonic

In any normal circumstance he would ask her on a date and everything would be A ok!

But this wasn't any normal circumstance

It was an unspoken rule at Seidou that Kataoka's daughter was strictly OFF LIMITS

So Miyuki decided to ignore and suppress any and all romantic feelings he had for her

Out of sight out of mind

Well... That is until she confessed to him

Yikes....he uh... didn't see that coming at all

Miyuki would have classified himself as a grade A dumbass if he turned her down so the couple turned to the only logical answer

✨Secret relationship✨

They'd eventually tell Kataoka...but for right what he doesn't know can't hurt him 🤭

We all know Miyuki is a cheeky lil shit so he's really gonna push the limits with this

I'm talking stolen kisses in the bullpen, holding her hand under the table, pressing his hand to her lower back when they passed each other in the halls, "going over the scorebooks" which is code for meeting on field A once the lights had been shut off and going for a walk together

The Seidou team is HUGE tho so they were bound to be found out by someone

That someone was Furuya who walked in on the two making out in the bullpen one night

Rip Furuya 😶

That's when they decided to finally come clean and tell her dad

Miyuki had NEVER felt mOre awkward than at that moment

Sure he dealt with Kataoka's bone chilling stares and strict coaching on the daily, but being sat across from him in his office holding the hand of the one thing that's more important to his coach than baseball felt like he had been thrown into the deepest pits of hell

Kataoka is smart. He had a sneaking suspicion as to what was going on between the two but never wanted to confront the idea

And now he was struggling with wanting to protect his little girl -his pride and joy!- and letting her follow her heart

Ultimately he agreed as long as they kept it to handholding only when around him and if Miyuki promised to take care of his daughter

The smile on his daughters face was more than worth it when he approved of the relationship (his heart melted on the spot :'))

Do you really think Miyooks got away with out a smidge of threatening?

No....no he did not

Before Miyuki left the office Kataoka warned him that if he ever broke his little girls heart he'd never be able to pick up, let alone look at, a baseball for the rest of his time at Seidou

Now that the cats out of the bag, the pairs relationship would be way more open, but still low-key by Miyuki's request

A lot of their time shared together is at practice. She brings him water, helps Miyooks put on his catchers gear, and almost always joins him in the bullpen

Before games she pulls Miyuki aside and places a kiss on his cheek for good luck. In return he gives her his Seidou cap to wear :')

They probably barely get alone time so whenever Miyuki gets the chance he sneaks her into his dorm so they can hang out in an environment that's not on a baseball field

He probably uses this time to just hold onto her bc wOw he's never met someone whose hugs feel so warm and cozy

You can bet that when the rest of the team discovers their relationship the third years are ready to throw hands if Miyuki even makes her frOwN once!!

Poor Miyooks has to deal with 10+ protective "older brothers" and her father

The third years warm up to the idea tho once they realize they have something to tease the stone cold Miyuki Kazuya about

Kinda jumping ahead but when Miyuki is appointed as Captain she would instantly be right by his side supporting him. She'd be the one to reassure him that he's a great captain. She'd probably also be willing to lend him a hand if he ever needed assistance

#kayquests #Miyuki Kazuya #miyuki kazuya x reader #daiya no ace x reader #daiya no ace #ace of the diamond x reader #ace of the diamond #ace of diamond x reader #ace of diamond #diamond no ace x reader #diamond no ace #KDAU

134 notes · View notes

daveeddiggsit · 3 years

Text

The Plan

WIDEOUT MASTERLIST

Series: WIDEOUT (chpt viii)

Note: Thank you @braidedchallah for proofreading. Reminder — before you kill me — there is one chapter left (and an epilogue). Keep that in mind. Enjoy. Feel free to yell at me afterwards. If you’re reading this, I’m sorry for what you’re about to experience.

Word Count: 12.2k

Pairing: Football Player!Thomas Jefferson x Tutor!Reader

Warnings: angst. possible breakup. perhaps some crying. implied sex (more than once). thom being a perfect boyfriend. thom looking fine af in denim (i’m trash).

Summary: Goodbyes are hard.

Tags: @coololdsoulpoetlove @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @lilangeldevil006 @pana-ce-a @merrahonthawall @katierpblogg @thespianbooks @a-hopeless-fan @uniquelystarchildthedragon @wcreech @sabbrriiinnaa @imperial-martian @harpersmariano @icanneverbesatisfied @underthewillowtreerycb @i-know-i-can @astralaffairs @braidedchallah (if i forgot anyone i apologize, just lemme know for next time)

As one of the smartest kids in your graduating class, you have a certain reputation to uphold. Maintaining a perfect 4.0 GPA isn’t easy, which means that you have to choose all the right answers and make all the right decisions.

As it turns out, you seem to be pretty good at that. Being right about a lot of things, academic or not, seems to come naturally to you. Especially when it comes to a certain curly-haired athlete who also happens to be your boyfriend of over a year.

You had been right when you told him that he would recover from his ankle injury on the night it happened. Well, you can’t be entirely sure of that yet since he’s still not clear to engage in full-action sports, but it’s incredibly clear that he’s well on his way to recovering fully.

Almost exactly seven weeks after the incident, he’d gotten his cast removed and replaced with a boot so that he could put weight on his ankle again. Since then, he’s been in physical therapy almost daily in order to make sure that he’s healing the right way. According to him, he’s progressing well every week and is slowly regaining his mobility, strength, and speed. Just two weeks ago he ditched the boot so that he could finally put on a pair of shoes; you remember the grin on his face when he gave you a little dance to show off the new kicks he’d gotten as celebration.

He’s not 100% healthy yet, and he certainly won’t be back on the field (or track) for another couple months until he’s clear to practice, but you’re proud that he’s been able to recover as much as he has in relatively so little time.

On the night of his injury, you’d also been right about another thing: the fact that Thomas would receive college offers.

And that’s what you’re celebrating today.

After weeks and weeks of advocating for himself and sending his player reel and personal letters to the head coaches of schools he wanted to attend, he finally got an offer from one of his top college choices: the University of Virginia.

While their football team isn’t the most notable in the nation, their program is one of the best in the state of Virginia at a Division I level, and that’s pretty much all Thomas wants. After he recovers fully, Thomas will make an excellent asset to the team since one of their starting wide receivers is entering the NFL Draft after this year.

At UVA, Thomas would get the play time he needs to shine and show his true colors and talent as a wide receiver all while having a coaching staff there to support him and his every need. Their academic program for liberal arts is also something Thomas has been looking at in a school since he plans on majoring in English.

With all of that said, the Jefferson household decides to host a special dinner for their son in celebration of the wonderful news.

And while under normal circumstances, you would feel happy and excited for your boyfriend and his amazing accomplishment, instead you have a voice that lingers in the back of your mind reminding you of the similar news you had received just a week prior.

Thomas isn’t the only one with a huge scholarship offer.

After applying to many different schools with somewhat notable engineering programs in-state (because let’s be real, out-of-state tuition is absurdly expensive), you’ve received only a few grants from NYU and Syracuse University, but it isn’t enough to cover all of tuition.

But when you’d received an email last week from the one out-of-state school you had applied to last minute, your heart had just about dropped from your chest.

UCLA is offering you a full-ride.

You should be happy that you have an incredible offer. You should be elated for Thomas with his scholarship offer, too. However, you can’t help but feel a looming sense of stress every time you think about telling him.

That’s why you haven’t told him yet; it’s been nine days.

“Y/N?”

Thomas’ voice snaps you out of your thoughts and suddenly you are brought back to reality. You’re dressed up and sitting at the dinner table with Thomas across from his parents. The menu of the night consists of a couple different French dishes that his mother had learned to make a few years back when they visited Paris for an entire summer. His mother’s rendition of the food is nothing short of amazing.

Your eyes meet the warm brown ones that belong to your boyfriend as you turn your head to glance at him next to you. “Hmm?”

”You didn’t hear anythin’ I said, did you?” Thomas chuckles, biting his lip as he watches you put on a guilty simper.

“No, sorry.” You breathe out a small laugh in order to cover up your underlying nervousness. “I zoned out for a minute there. What were you saying?”

“Well, I’m arguin’ a case here. Technically, a hot dog — a piece of meat held together by two pieces of bread - is a sandwich, right? In simple terms and by definition this should be true, so don’t overthink it. My dad keeps saying it’s not, but please, Y/N, you gotta side with me this time.”

You take a breath in and click your tongue. “I don’t know, Peter, I think I gotta go with Thom on this one.”

“Yes!” Thomas celebrates, throwing his arms up dramatically. “I told you!”

Mr. Jefferson’s mouth drops at your response. “How dare you take his side. Did all those other times teaming up at dinner and making fun of him mean nothing to you?”

If it hadn’t been evident prior to this moment where Thomas gets his overdramatics from, then it’s certainly clear now.

“Case closed.” Thomas smirks, crossing his arms, proud of himself.

“What are you talking about? The case is far from closed.” His father retorts, splaying his arms out, causing Thomas’ mom to speak out.

“Hey, calm down, you two. You’re gonna make a mess if you keep on bangin’ the table like that.” She chastises them. They both mutter their apologies before Thomas’ father continues on defending himself.

“Y/N, why’d you choose his side? You know I’m right. Don’t let that boy guilt trip you; he’s still gonna love you if you disagree with him.”

“Sorry, Peter.” You shrug, sneaking a glance at Thomas who’s watching you with a glint in his eyes. “As much as I don’t want to agree with your son on this one, I unfortunately do.”

Thomas pauses to narrow his eyes as you in puzzled manor. “‘Unfortunately?’ Your words wound me, sweetheart, really.” He says in a teasing tone before his smile turns smug as he directs his attention towards his father. “But you see, Dad? It’s 2 against 1. ‘M sorry to say, but your opinion is overruled.”

Mr. Jefferson waves his son off dismissively. “That’s horseshit; your mother hasn’t sided with anyone yet. We still have one more vote to count.”

“Language, Peter.” The woman in question warns, giving him a look that’s only half serious.

“Well, honey? You agree with me, don’t you?” Peter asks his wife with pleading eyes, causing her to roll hers.

“Sure, sweetie.”

You shake your head and smile, leaning back in your chair to watch the antics unfold.

“What? Ma, why you takin’ his side?” Thomas jumps in. “I’m supposed to be your favorite, you know.”

“Of course you’re my favorite; you’re my only child, Thomas.” His mother deadpans, causing Thomas to frown.

It’s Peter’s turn now to smirk at Thomas and you. “See? Now we’re tied. Opinion very much not overruled, thank you.”

“Wait, what was your side of the argument again?” Mrs. Jefferson asks her husband. “You said a hot dog is a sandwich, right?”

“No, that’s what I said.” Thomas interjects.

“Oh, well then I agree with Thomas.”

“Ha!” Your boyfriend exclaims, pointing at his dad. “I told you! Your opinion is not valid. Hot dogs are sandwiches. End of story.”

“They are not sandwiches! They are a different entity. How can you compare a ham and cheese to a weiner between two buns? Well I’ll tell you. You can’t!”

“For the last time, Dad. It’s a piece of meat in between two pieces of bread. That is classified as what? A sandwich!”

“With that logic, you’d say that a burger is a sandwich, too?”

“Yup.”

“There is somethin’ wrong with y’all.” Peter shakes his head, picking at the leftover food on his plate. “I thought I raised you better, T. Y/N, I expected you to take my side on this one.”

“Sorry, Mr. J.” You shrug. “Tommy’s right. A piece of meat in between two pieces of bread does indeed technically classify it as a sandwich.”

“Y’all got me thinkin’ that I’m the crazy one now.” Peter sighs defeatedly.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that nonsense.” Thomas’ mother chuckles, waving her hand in the air dismissively. “Thomas, honey, your father and I are very proud of you and are excited for your opportunity at UVA.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Thomas grins. “I’m excited, too.”

Under the table, Thomas’ hand finds yours and laces your fingers together. Its warmth is comforting and the small moment makes you forget about everything for just a moment. A small silence stretches on for a bit before Peter speaks up.

“So, Y/N, how are your college applications going? Have you gotten any scholarships yet? I feel like you’re too smart to not get anything.”

Your stomach drops at the question. You really hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like this, and while it is a simple question that you should be able to answer quickly… you don’t. You hesitate and Thomas notices.

You want to tell the truth, you really do, but you can’t. This is Thomas’ night to celebrate and the last thing you want to do is mess it up with news that you’d be going to school across the country. Tonight is supposed to be about him, not you.

So you lie.

“Oh, um, no, not yet.” You chuckle nervously. The hand holding Thomas’ fidgets slightly and he squeezes lightly to try and help calm your nerves. “I mean, I’ve gotten into NYU and Syracuse so far. Still waiting to hear from Columbia. I haven’t heard much as far as scholarships, though, unfortunately. I’ve received a few grants here and there, but nothing too big.”

“Columbia, wow. What’s their acceptance rate? 10%?” Mrs. Jefferson asks, seemingly interested.

“6%.” Thomas jumps in to answer before glancing at you with a small smile. “I don’t think Y/N will have any trouble getting in, though.”

You send him the biggest smile you can muster, though you feel like it sort of comes out as a grimace. “Thanks, T.” You say softly.

Beat.

“What time is it? I think it’s past my bedtime.” Peter yawns, checking his watch. “10 o’clock? Where did the time go? Y/N, are you going to be okay driving home this late?”

“It’s not that late, Mr. Jefferson. I should be fine.” You’ve definitely driven home from Thomas’ place past 10pm before (multiple times), but you’re not telling him that. “I do think I should probably leave soon, though.”

“You wanna go get your things upstairs, then I can walk you out?” Thomas asks you with a mischievous look in his eye. Knowing him, he probably just wants to get you alone for a bit before you leave. Even through your nervousness to tell him the truth, you can’t deny his charm.

“Yeah, that sounds good, Tommy.”

Then, both you and Thomas excuse yourselves from the table. You make sure to thank Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson for dinner and the invite. You’re always honored to be included in their family events even if it’s something as small as dinner on a Friday night.

When you make it up to Thomas’ room, he doesn’t waste another moment before he kisses you softly, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek after he gently shuts the door.

“Been waitin’ to do that all night.” He grins afterwards, softly brushing over the skin of your cheek with his thumb.

You smile as you bring your hands up to his shoulders, wordlessly leaning forward to sweetly press your lips to his again.

“Missed you.” He mumbles as he pulls away to lean his forehead against yours. “Feel like we haven’t been seeing a lot of each other lately.”

He’s right. With both of you not having any classes together this year, you both worried about college applications, Thomas not in football season anymore and in and out of PT almost constantly, you two haven’t been seeing each other as much as you’d like. Another reason why you haven’t been able to tell Thomas about UCLA (aside from the fact that you simply don’t have the guts to do it).

“I know.” You sigh, looking off to the side for a second. “I’m sorry.”

“‘S not your fault. We’ve both been busy.”

“Yeah, but still.” You say softly. “Feels bad. I miss you.”

He chuckles. “Well, I’m right here, baby. Don’t need to go far.”

You smile haphazardly and roll your eyes as you bring your hand up to the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. Who knows how many more of these you’ll get before you both graduate and have to go your separate ways.

Before it can go too far, you pull away again.

“T?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m so proud of you.” You say genuinely because you really want him to know. You feel like you don’t tell him enough (even though that’s not the case). “Really, I am. You deserve that scholarship and so much more.”

“Thanks, love.” He murmurs while a soft smile adorns his face. “Hey, if none of these in-state schools give you anything, I think you’d have a good chance at getting something at UVA. They have an honors college that gives up a ton of grants and shit, you should look into it. I’m not sure if the applications are still open, but worth a try.”

You purse your lips before you give him your response. “Maybe, we’ll see.”

“I’m sure you’ll get something anyway, but just wanted to bring that up and let you know.”

“Appreciate the thought, Thom.”

Thomas grins, giving you one last peck on the lips before finally turning away to remove his overcoat. He double takes when he sees your face drop slightly. His eyebrows furrow as he notices your mood shift. “Hey, what’s wrong? Somethin’ botherin’ you? Not gonna lie, you’ve been a little off all night, sweetheart...”

You hesitate, not able to look him in the eye, the guilt eating you alive. The pressure of holding everything in is building up and while Thomas is normally your rock, the one you can go to for anything, you can’t this time, and you can feel it wearing you down.

You take in a shaky deep breath before you go to sit down on his bed, eyes cast towards the ground. “I’m okay, T, I’m just… stressed. With school.” You say, finally willing yourself to look up into his caring gaze. It hurts to lie to him, but you keep telling yourself that it’s his night.

“You sure?” He asks, taking a seat next to you to gently grab your hand in his. “Seriously, baby, I know when somethin’s up. What’s on that brilliant mind of yours, huh?” He lightly bumps his shoulder against yours in a teasing gesture, causing you to let out a half-hearted chuckle. He always knows how to get a laugh out of you, doesn’t he? “I know you’re worried about more than that stats test you have next week. Tell me what’s really botherin’ you.” He says softly, catching your gaze again.

Sighing once more, you tear your eyes away from his pleading ones. “I um…” You trail off after trying and failing to come up with another lie or excuse.

Thomas always draws your worries and frustrations out of you; he knows you so well to the point where he knows exactly what to say to convince you to tell him something. Honesty has never been a problem in your relationship, and the last thing you want is to push it to a point of no return. You already feel terrible for withholding the truth; you want to be free from this secret you’ve been holding.

And suddenly seven words echo in your head:

“Tell him. He’ll understand. He loves you.”

Your eyes flit back up to meet his concerned gaze. Here it goes.

“I did get a scholarship. All tuition and expenses paid. I got the email a week and a half ago and I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

His eyes widen at the confession, taken aback by how big the news is.

“Holy shit, Y/N, that’s… that’s amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you. Not surprised, but proud nonetheless.” He says genuinely, a smile evident on his face before it drops slightly. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?” There’s a moment of silence before he speaks again. “Wait, why’d you lie at dinner when my dad asked?”

You give him a sad smile before you look away again, fidgeting with your fingers on the hand that Thomas isn’t holding. “I didn’t want to take over your night, T. And I didn’t tell you when I found out because… the school’s in Cali.” You say, releasing a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

He cocks his head to the side slightly, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you only applied to schools in-state.”

You shake your head, pursing your lips before you respond. “That’s what I had planned originally, but my advisor pushed me to apply for this scholarship program at UCLA and… well, I got in.”

Thomas goes silent for a few moments as he looks off to the side, breathing deeply. It’s hard to tell what he’s feeling. Then, he lets out a low whistle. “Full-ride to UCLA, huh?” He says softly before he turns to look at you.

“Thomas…” You start, your voice soft and full of worry, but he continues to talk.

“Are you going to accept it?” He asks and you nod slowly.

Ideally, you have no other real choice; by going to UCLA you’d graduate with zero debt. And with UCLA’s engineering program and opportunities that other schools can’t fulfill, it fills all the boxes you want in a university.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Really. I’m glad they recognize how amazing you are.” The tone in Thomas’ voice is fond and he’s absolutely sure of the words he’s saying. “It’s far away, I know, but we can make it work.”

The emotions in his eyes are conflicting, but they still hold unrelenting love and support in them. When you hesitate to respond, his eyes search yours, trying to find some sort of answer in them, but before he can decipher anything, you tear your gaze from his.

“Right?” He asks as his grip on your palm loosens until your hand falls back into your lap, the warmth from Thomas’ fingers completely vanished. “Baby, talk to me. Please.”

“Thom, I… I want to think that but I’m not sure.” You admit quietly, and having said that, you can see something in Thomas’ composure crumble.

He shakes his head. “Nah, don’t you say that. We can make this work, Y/N.” His voice wavers slightly as he stands up and runs a hand over his curls, smoothing them back and away from his face. “I haven’t accepted the offer at UVA. I can decline and apply to UCLA—”

“T, I’m not going to ask you to do that—” You start, but he cuts you off.

“You don’t have to ask me, love. I’m willing to do this all on my own. Like I said, we can make this work. I’ll improvise. My parents can afford it, then I can just join the football team as a walk-on. I’m confident I’ll make it. Since they didn’t give me an offer I’ll prove them wrong and be the best damn walk-on they ever had.”

“Thomas, don’t—”

“I can also have my dad send the head coach a letter. I didn’t wanna pull that for any other schools because I wanted to earn all my offers — and because of the whole nepotism thing — but I’ll make an exception for—”

“Thomas, please!” You raise your voice and when he finally stops, you immediately regret it. You’ve never raised your voice like that with him before and doing so right now feels terrible.

“Please, T, just stop. I don’t want you to do any of that for me. How long have you been waiting for UVA to give you a chance? How many letters have you personally written to Coach Michaels, begging him to consider you for one of their open receiver positions?”

Thomas is silent as you speak, knowing full well that you have a point. You continue.

“You’ve been set on UVA as your top school for a couple months now. Don’t forget how hyped you were when you finally got the offer this morning. And now you want to just throw that away? No. I’m sorry, Thom, but I am not going to be the one to take it away from you.”

“You’re not.” He says earnestly. “Taking it away from me, I mean. I want to do this for you. For us. UCLA has a good football program, too, all I have to do is pull some strings if you’ll let me.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay, well I’m not letting you do that. Thomas, it’s not as easy as you’re making it seem. Think about this, okay? Think about yourself and your football career and all the opportunities that you’ll have for yourself down in Virginia. Don’t let me get in the way of that! I don’t want each of us to be an obstacle in each other’s successes.”

Thomas gives you an incredulous look and stills himself. “Are you serious? Is that what you consider our relationship? An obstacle?”

You look away, sighing. “No, T, I… I didn’t mean it like that, you know that.”

“No, Y/N. I don’t know that.” He looks at you with a distressed gaze, all traces of comfort and playfulness gone and replaced with hurt… caused by you — something you never would have thought you’d see in his eyes.

“Look, I don’t wanna talk about this right now. Today’s supposed to be your day.”

“Let me get one thing straight, Y/N. Our relationship is not an obstacle… it never has been and it never will be.” Thomas says coldly and you cringe when he calls you by your full name in a tone that’s less than friendly.

“I just don’t want our love for each other to get in the way of…” You trail off, but decide against speaking mid-sentence. “You know what, nevermind.”

“Get in the way of what?”

“Thomas,” you start, making eye contact with him once again. “I don’t want to get in the way of your football career. It’s unfair; I can’t do that to you, T. You deserve to make the most of your career in college so that you can make it to the NFL. That’s your dream, right? To play in the NFL for the New York Giants like your father did. Am I right?”

His jaw clenches slightly as he nods, and you continue.

“The coach at UVA believes in you — even through your injury. Why are you going to throw that away? In order to be with your high school girlfriend? Do you see how childish that sounds?” A beat of silence passes before you continue in a softer tone.

“I just… I don’t want you to do that, Thomas, it’s too big of a risk. You have a solid spot at UVA to prove yourself on the field. If you drop that for a walk-on position at UCLA, it’ll be a mistake. Instead of proving yourself to NFL recruiters, you’ll be set on proving yourself to college coaches just to get a chance on the field. I want you to have the best chances at making it to the NFL.” Now it’s your turn to stand up. You pace away from him as you continue to speak.

“Let’s say you do follow me to UCLA and join the football program. What if… what if something happens while we’re in college and we’re not together anymore? What will happen? You’d have potentially messed up your career for me and I don’t want that to happen, T. I’m sorry but I won’t let that happen.”

Thomas holds a hand up to stop you from your ramblings. He speaks his next words slowly. “Wait, wait, hold on now. You think we’re going to break up in college?”

You roll your eyes in frustration, crossing your arms defensively. “That’s not what I said—”

“No, no that’s exactly what you said.” He responds coldly, narrowing his eyes at you. “I’m starting to question our intentions in this relationship, Y/N. Did you ever plan on us being long term?”

“See, this is why I didn’t wanna tell you. I didn’t want this to happen.” You say, annoyed that it’s gotten to this point of you two having an argument.

“You just gonna ignore my question?”

“Before applying to schools, T, I wasn’t even thinking about the future. I was taking things day by day. We were both pent up in our little perfect world, but right now we need to face reality.”

“Okay, so then why’d you keep this a secret from me? Were you plannin’ on keepin’ this to yourself until graduation? I don’t know if you knew this, sweetheart, but a relationship is a two-way street and involves a little somethin’ called communication.” His snarky tone fills the room and has you rolling your eyes again. “Girlfriends aren’t supposed to lie to their boyfriends and then get mad at him for reacting a certain way when she finally decides to tell him huge news.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” You say, breathing out another sigh and softening up at his last sentence. He’s right; you shouldn’t have kept it a secret. “I wanted to tell you, I just, I don’t know what’s gonna happen after we graduate, okay? And I’m scared.”

“You don’t think we can work through that together? As a team?” Thomas’ eyes are begging you to reason with him. “I’m scared, too, but we’ll figure something out. Right?”

The look in your eyes is distant as you cast them down to the ground. “Yeah.”

“Maybe we could do a long distance thing. I’ve seen other couples do it.”

You fiddle with a loose thread on your sweater. “I don’t know, T. We’ll see if we can come up with something.”

He rolls his eyes and huffs out a hot-tempered laugh. “Okay.” He says shortly.

“What?”

“So you don’t want me to drop everything and go to UCLA with you, which is fine. I understand that. But now you’re telling me that you don’t wanna do long distance?”

“I didn’t say that, I just— we need to be realistic, Thom.”

“What does that even mean?!” He yells, and it’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at you. You hate it.

“We have to keep the future in mind!”

“I want you in my future! Don’t you want me in your future?”

“We both have different ideas of what we want. Different dreams, okay? You can’t have your dream of making it to the NFL and also have me when I plan on going to an engineering program across the country!”

You’re deflecting and he knows it.

“Answer the damn question, Y/N.” He says lowly, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

“Of course I want you in my future, Thomas!” You say exasperatedly, looking at the ceiling. “What kind of question is that?”

“Forgive me if I’m strugglin’ to believe that when you’re actin’ like this.” He says, his voice taking a more neutral tone, but he sounds exhausted. “You’re going to school across the country and you were hesitant to tell me - fine. I fucking get it. But you can’t just say that we’ll probably break up in college and think that that is fucking okay. It’s not! And you can’t say ‘I don’t know’ about dating long distance when that’s literally the only other option we have.”

“That’s the thing, Thomas. I don’t know if that’s the only other option we have.”

His face looks puzzled as he looks at you for a few seconds before realization finally settles in. Thomas narrows his eyes at you once again, his gaze cold, making your heart drop in your chest. “You wanna break up, don’t you?”

“No.” You state, choosing your words carefully. “I don’t want to. But we have to think about—”

“Our future, yeah. I get it.” Thomas snaps, cutting you off. “You know what? You want to talk about the future? Fine. Maybe we should.” He says simply, crossing his arms. “If you think we’re just going to break up in college anyway, maybe we should just speed up the process and get it over with.”

You shake your head at him. “Thomas, don’t do this. That’s not what I want.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s not.”

“I find that extremely hard to believe.”

“I’m done arguing with you, Jefferson.” You breathe out tiredly, running a hand through your hair.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks completely drained as he speaks again, his voice now calm. “What are we doing here, Y/N?”

A small silence fills the air before you answer quietly. “I don’t know, T.”

What are you both doing? Arguing about whether or not your relationship should continue after high school? Maybe you are being a little irrational about it, implying that you should break up before college and all. Thomas’ reaction to it all is understandable because he doesn’t want to lose you. However, he needs to be truthful to himself. Is this relationship going to work when the two of you are seeking entirely different career paths on opposite coasts?

What a fucking mess.

You hate that it’s gotten to this point. Your fear about telling Thomas and it going downhill has come true, and knowing that makes you even more emotional.

“Tommy… I…” You say sotto voce, on the edge of tears as you slowly reach for him, but he puts a hand up stopping you from moving any further. He turns his face so you can’t see his expression.

“Don’t, Y/N.” Thomas’ voice is firm, but it breaks slightly when he says your name. “Just don’t.” He whispers.

You watch him and he struggles to keep himself together. You hate that you’ve done this to him, that you’re making him feel this way… you hate that you’ve caused this.

“I’m gonna go…” You voice (barely above a whisper) after a long silent pause, not trusting your normal voice due to the shaky deep breaths that begin to rack your body. You’re on the verge of breaking down.

Thomas nods. “I think you should.”

And that breaks your heart.

You feel weird leaving like this, gross even. You don’t want to leave things off like they are. You don’t want to leave things unresolved and you don’t want to leave with Thomas still angry at you. Still, though, you grab all your things and head to the doorway of his room.

Pausing to look back at him, you open your mouth to say something, but hesitate. Deciding against it, you turn to open the door and leave without another word.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You call Maria as soon as you get to your car. She helps you keep your composure as you drive to her house, keeping you company via phone. You make sure to send your family a quick text of your whereabouts and that you plan to spend the night at Maria’s place.

As soon as you arrive in her bedroom and drop your bag to the ground, you break down and begin to sob, crashing into the welcoming arms of your best friend. You cry until you can’t anymore, and Maria is there for you the entire time hugging you and easing you through it.

She stays there, quiet and still, allowing you to let out all of your emotions. You don’t tell her the details about what happened until after you have no tears left to cry.

“Don’t be mad at T, please, none of this is his fault.” You sniffle, wiping at your nose with a tissue Maria gave you. “It’s all mine.”

“Y/N, don’t blame yourself for all this. You just want what’s best for the both of you in the long run. If he doesn’t understand that, then he’s just not seeing the whole picture.”

“I just hate arguing with him, Maria.” You say weakly, wiping at your face to dry your tears. “This is our first fight and I hate how I feel right now. I don’t want things to end on bad terms. How am I supposed to get over this feeling once we… if we break up before college?”

“You don’t have to end things on bad terms, Y/N.” Maria says softly. “You both need to be on the same page about this. If you both make a plan and sort things out, then maybe you can leave things on a positive note. Not as a goodbye, but as a see you later, you know? And if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. You’ll meet again one day and you can pick up where you left off. But if it’s not, then at least you guys can cherish what you had when you were just two kids in high school who didn’t know any better and made the most of their teenage years.”

You nod slowly. She does have a point, and this is all what you were thinking when you had even brought up the thought of breaking up after graduation.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“It’s my best friend superpower. I can’t help it.” She shrugs, making you laugh, even if it was only a half-hearted one. “Seriously, though. You two need to have an honest conversation with one another.”

You sigh, wiping the rest of your drying tears away with the tissue. “I think we both could use some space right now, though. I’m going to wait until Monday.”

Maria nods. “Monday. But you have to talk to him. You can’t chicken out. I know you, Y/N.”

“Sometimes a little too well…”

“All for the best.” She grins.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

After a long and lonely weekend, Monday finally comes and you make sure to wake up earlier than usual in order to make it to school in time for when Thomas comes out of his physical therapy session with his track trainer.

You haven’t called, texted, or seen each other since Friday night and the guilt and heaviness from what happened still weighs on your chest despite the reassuring words from Maria.

Patiently and nervously, you wait outside the boys’ locker room like you have countless times before, only this time, things feel much different. The anticipation lingers in the air surrounding you and you feel the stress push at your shoulders until the door finally opens and Thomas walks out.

After over a year of dating, you still get butterflies at the sight of him even though he’s just wearing simple black jeans and a t-shirt.

As he shrugs on his jean jacket and backpack, he glances up through a few stray curls that fall down in front of his eyes. His eyes flicker to you as he walks in your direction before he rips them away quickly.

“T, hey how was…?” You try to speak to him, but he just continues to walk past you.

You watch him as he goes on like nothing, completely disregarding your presence.

“You’re still mad…” You trail off, falling into step with him and his pace doesn’t falter.

He doesn’t say a word.

“Listen, I know you probably don’t wanna see me right now, but please hear me out.”

Still nothing.

You know he’s still upset; he only gets quiet when he has a lot on his mind or he’s going through something. Taking in a deep breath, you speed up so that you can get in front of him.

“Thomas, hey, stop.” You say, putting a hand on his chest. You know that if he really wants to charge past you he can, but instead he stays there, halted by your touch. He looks down at you, his face nearing yours, and your eyes plead with his. “Please.” You whisper, your fingers curling into his black shirt to hold him there (or maybe it’s more of a way to ground yourself).

Thomas’ detached gaze lingers on your face and as your eyes search his, you note just how devoid of energy he looks.

“I just want to talk. I…” You watch him as he breaks your gaze to look at the ground. “I know I fucked up; I said some things I shouldn’t have. Just please let me make it up to you. I need you, T. I want to fix this while we still can.”

You sneak a glance around you to see that you’ve attracted some attention from your fellow classmates who are unapologetically staring. Do they know about you and Thomas’ fight? How could they possibly know? You two are hardly making a scene, but then again… people are vultures who will perk up at even the slightest bit of drama.

“Can we go somewhere private? Please? Just the two of us.”

Thomas licks his lips as he looks around, then back at you lazily. “Can this wait? We have class in six minutes, you know.”

“Let’s skip.” You say, causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. “This is more important than class today, okay? How about we go to that diner down the street?”

“It’s a little too early for a milkshake and fries, isn’t it?”

“They have eggs and waffles, too.” You say, your eyes pleading him to accept your offer. “Please? I know you love breakfast.”

He’s quiet for a few more minutes and you wait in anticipation for his answer. Just when you get your hopes down and think he’s going to reject you, he speaks up.

“Okay.” He responds finally. “But only because I really don’t want to watch boring presentations about the social cognitive theory in my Psych class…”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “That’s good enough for me, T.”

“Bribin’ me with breakfast. You know that shit’s my weakness…” He mutters under his breath as he shakes his head. You’re not sure if he’d meant for you to hear that, but either way it makes a hint of a grin form on your lips.

“Come on, I’ll drive.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

When you get to the diner, it’s fairly empty except for an elderly couple at a booth and a man at the counter drinking a cup of coffee. The smell of eggs and bacon wafts through the air and enters your nostrils as you breathe in.

A waitress greets you when you two slide into a booth, sitting across from each other. She hands you both menus and gets your drink orders before she’s off.

Silence fills the air between you as you both look over your menus. Thomas doesn’t say anything and it feels weird, suddenly reminding you of why you’re here in the first place. While from an outside perspective it may look like a normal outing between you two, you can feel the lingering tension in the air that’s leftover from Friday night. Unspoken feelings and unresolved problems still remain.

You sneak a glance at him over your menu only to find him already staring back at you. As soon as your eyes meet, he looks away.

“I feel really bad about Friday.” You finally break the silence, your voice small. Wanting nothing more than to let him know how you feel, you try to catch his gaze. When his brown eyes finally meet yours, you continue. “I hate the way we left things…”

“Me too.” He finally says softly. You two stare at each other for a few more seconds and Thomas opens his mouth to continue. “I…”

Then, the waitress comes back with a couple water cups and two black coffees, interrupting whatever it was that Thomas was about to say. You and Thomas direct your attention to her with fake smiles as she asks for your orders.

After she takes your menus and leaves, you let out a sigh as you look down at your fidgeting hands.

“Listen, T…” You begin, regret and guilt evident in your voice. You make sure to look up and meet his gaze one more time before you continue. “I'm sorry for lying to you and your family — I should have told you the day I found out, but I was too afraid of losing what we have. And I'm sorry for fucking up your day when we were supposed to be celebrating instead.”

You stop to take in a shaky deep breath, looking down at your hands once again. “I’m so sorry if I made it seem like I was doubting our relationship or… or if I made you feel like I didn’t… like you weren’t…” Struggling to find the right way to express how sorry you are, your tone gets more and more emotional as you stumble over your words.

Thomas saves you from your struggle, however, as his hand reaches across the table to cover yours, causing you to look up at him with surprise. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“What?” You voice breathlessly. “I… I thought you were still mad. It shouldn’t be that easy. Why are you…?”

He shrugs slowly. “Because you’re not entirely at fault… and as much as I want to stay angry, I can’t stand seein’ you in distress like this.”

You purse your lips and squeeze his hand in yours. “I’m still really sorry, T. I want you to know that. I said some things I regret and…”

“I know you are. Especially after seeing you try to fix things today by not takin’ no for an answer earlier. We both said some things we regret and it’s okay, Y/N. Really.” His voice is soft as he responds. “I’m sorry for yellin’ and not fully listenin’ to what you were sayin’. And for bein’ kind of a dick to you earlier when I ignored you. I was in denial. I just felt like you were givin’ up on us too quickly and I… I don’t wanna mess up what we have. I really don’t.”

Your eyes soften at his words. “I know. Me neither.”

You both are quiet for a few seconds as you both struggle to find a way to address the elephant in the room.

Luckily, you both get interrupted by the waitress again who comes back with your orders. You let go of each other’s hand when your plates are placed in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight of your food, and you thank your waitress before she leaves again, telling you to let her know if you need anything else.

A comfortable silence falls in the space between you and Thomas, and though you feel that the tension from Friday night has now dissipated, the stress of the upcoming conversation still sits on your shoulders.

Surprisingly, Thomas is the one who initiates it.

“So…” He starts after chasing a mouthful of pancakes with a sip of water. “I’m guessin’ you won’t be comin’ back to town on holiday breaks?”

You cringe at the bluntness of the question. “What made you assume that?”

He shrugs, chewing his food before swallowing. “Just the way you were so helpless with your options. Thinking back to it, I figure that you probably wouldn’t have jumped to the possibility of breaking up unless you’d already thought things through somewhat.”

Very observant of him.

You nod before letting out a small sigh. “Yeah. My family’s planning on moving to Miami once I move out. Apparently they’re tired of the cold weather and wanted to wait to move until I graduated high school. They let me know when I told them the news.”

“Erik, too?”

“He’s staying in Philly until he graduates next Spring.”

“Well, that sucks.” He says, picking at the leftovers on his plate.

“Yeah.” You reply softly. “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore, Thomas. I thought the answer was clear, but now I’m not so sure.”

He sighs, putting his fork down before looking up at you. “I think I do.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you tilt your head in confusion.

Thom sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Well, for starters, you’re always right, let me just put that out there.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Well, for this instance, at least.” He says simply before he continues. “As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think we’ve got options here.”

“Yes we do, you said it yourself, T.”

“We don’t, Y/N, you were right. I didn’t wanna believe it before but now, I don’t think I have a choice.” He says, holding your gaze firmly. “The two of us going to the same school is out of the picture. Especially with application deadlines already being passed - I checked and I don’t know what I was thinking on Friday. And with us not going to be able to see each other even on holiday breaks… I don’t think that leaves anythin’ else on the table.”

“Thomas, really, you don’t have to do this. Don’t let me pressure you into something you don’t wanna do. Like you said, a relationship’s a two way street. We can work something out. I don’t know what, but we’ll try something else.”

“You’re not pressuring me, Y/N. What would that ‘something else’ be? Long distance? The chances of us visiting each other are slim, especially since I’ll be stuck at UVA for the majority of summer break for training camp. Especially since you’ll be in California and especially since you have no incentive to come back to town after you graduate.”

“You’re my incentive, T.”

He licks his lips and lets out a small laugh. “Baby, don’t fight me on this; you wanted this. Why the shift?”

“I don’t wanna lose you.” You say, voice quiet and close to tears.

Thomas reaches out across the table for your hand again. You lace your fingers with his and hold tightly. “I know. I don’t want to lose you either, but you were right, sweetheart. Seeing each other once a year isn’t good enough, let’s be real. I think we’d be hurting more than we'd be happy.”

You let out a long, deep sigh, squeezing his hand. He’s absolutely right and you knew this when you started this conversation on Friday — doesn’t mean that you don’t want to avoid it, though.

“We… we should…” He hesitates to continue the sentence. “We— God, why is this so hard?”

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, T.”

He takes a deep breath before the words finally come out. “We should break up. This summer.”

It sounds foreign coming out of his mouth and his change in viewpoint surprises you still, even after talking it through with him.

“I don’t wanna be your shackle, Y/N.” He says, squeezing your hand comfortingly. “I want you to do great things without worryin’ about me. Just like you were sayin’ on Friday. And I don’t wanna risk getting to a point where we grow too distant we lose all hope.”

Your eyes tear up a little bit and you reach up to wipe at your eyes with your free hand.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m lettin’ you off easy, missy.” Thomas looks at you pointedly, his voice wavering slightly. He lets out a small bittersweet laugh before he continues. “I’m gonna consider this more of a ‘see you later’ than a ‘goodbye forever’ kinda thing. At some point, I don’t know or care when, we’ll continue where we left off. Mark my words.”

You laugh, wiping away a stray tear. You’ve definitely heard those words before. “Have you been talking to Maria lately?”

He gives you a confused look. “No, not since we went on that double date with her and Ellie like two weeks ago, why?”

“She said a similar thing to me when I vented to her this weekend.”

“Really? Oh. I thought I was clever for that one.”

“You were.” You smile, rubbing small circles on the top of his hand.

A comfortable silence settles. The waitress comes back with the check and you give her your card against Thomas’ protests. It’s not long before she comes back and wishes that you both have a good rest of your day.

“This is gonna fucking suck.” Thomas suddenly says bluntly.

“Yeah, it is.” You sigh. “But you know what? We’re gonna make the most of the next three months. We’ll laugh together, we’ll cry together, we’ll enjoy the good times, and when the time comes… we won’t look back. Then, maybe one day, when I’m an engineer and you’re in the NFL… we’ll meet again.”

He sends you a watery smile, giving your hand a small squeeze. “I’m countin’ on it, sweetheart.”

You reciprocate his smile as a small silence stretches in between you two.

Thomas’ eyes fall onto his untouched (and probably now cold) coffee and with his free hand he reaches for the cream. You take that as a sign to let his hand go to let him tend to his glorified bean water, but as you try to withdraw your fingers from his, he just holds on tighter.

“Um, excuse me? What do you think you’re doin’?” He asks, glancing at you like you just committed a sin.

“Don’t you need to pour creamer?” You raise an eyebrow, wondering what the big deal is. “I don’t want you to spill it.”

“Girl, I can pour creamer with one hand, thank you very much.” And there’s the Thomas you know and love, not that he was ever absent in the first place, but it’s good to see him messing around again. “Let me hold your hand in peace because God knows how many more times I’ll get to do it. I gotta savor it.”

“Stoppp.” You whine, drawing the word out. “This is how you’re gonna act until graduation, isn’t it?”

“You complainin’, sweetheart?” He fake pouts as he carefully pours the cream in his coffee and stirs with a spoon. “I thought you loved me.”

You roll your eyes. “You know I love your dramatic ass.”

“Mhm. In more ways than one.” Thomas hums before he takes a sip of his coffee. He cringes when he realizes it’s cold and you laugh at his reaction.

“Ready to go yet?” You ask, amused.

He nods. “We’re not going back to class, though, are we? Because if that’s the case, then no.”

“What? Hell no. Who do you think I am?” You say as you both mutually let go of each other’s hand to get up from the booth.

“A goody-two-shoes, that’s what you are. Really, baby, I didn’t expect you to mention skipping class. That’s like… blasphemy for you.”

You shrug as he holds the front door open for you. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

Thomas gives you a suggestive look and that causes you to smack his arm. “God, Thomas, not like that. Jesus.”

He lets out a full-bodied laugh as you approach your car and he grabs you by the waist as he leans back against the driver’s door. He presses a kiss to your forehead, hugging you close to him. “Just messin’.”

You roll your eyes before you pull back to look him up and down.

“When’d you get this jacket? Haven’t seen you in it before.” You muse, bringing your hands up to grab the denim on each side of his collar.

“A week ago? Maybe two? This is my first time wearing it, though.” He answers before he smirks. “Why? You like it?”

“Yeah, you look good in denim.”

“Do I, now?” He cocks his head slightly, amused as your face drifts closer.

“Mhm. The jacket really suits you.” You hum, releasing the material with one of your hands to slide it up to his jaw. You give him a soft kiss on his lips before you pull back. “Might look better on the floor, though. I don’t know. We’ll have to try and find out.”

Thomas’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise; he hadn’t expected you to turn the suggestive talk around on him. A smirk forms on his lips as he presses them to yours one more time.

“Your parents home?” He mumbles against you.

You pull away slightly to think about it for a second. “No, actually.”

“Well, then I guess we’re about to find out.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Over the next few months, you and Thomas keep the promise you gave to each other at the diner. You’ve stayed positive and lived in the moment and, to be honest, those three months have probably been the best three months of your life.

You and Thom are both making the most of your time, making sure to spend almost every weekend together.

You study together even though you don’t share any classes. Most of the time is spent doing homework in silence, but you still enjoy each other’s presence.

For spring break, you go on a trip to the beach with Thomas, Maria, Ellie, James, Aaron, and a few more mutual friends. The week is full of banter and lots of fun-filled memories that you’ll remember for many years to come. It’s definitely one of the many highlights of senior year.

Thomas, being his over-the-top self, asks you to prom by spelling ‘Prom?’ out with bouquets of roses on your front lawn. And as if that isn’t enough, you wake to the sound of a live orchestral quartet playing your favorite song. You groggily walk over to your window to see where the sound is coming from and you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend grinning up at you with his arms gesturing around him proudly.

Of course you say yes.

You would have said yes even if he had asked you casually — but what can you say… you’re a sucker for flowers and he knows it.

Prom night is an absolute blast. You feel like a stunner in your dress and Thomas looks unbelievably handsome in his fitted tux. You stay together the entire night, dancing, singing, laughing, and joking around with both your and his friends.

You almost lose track of the amount of date nights you have with Thomas. You have movie nights, some nights you go rollerskating, concerts, restaurants, hell, you even go paintballing together, which is something that neither of you had ever thought you’d get into.

But as June grows closer and closer, you can’t help but feel that heaviness settle back into your chest. You’d be lying if you said that you haven’t thought about backing out of this agreement the two of you have. In fact, you’ve spent countless nights lying wide awake (sometimes right next to Thomas), trying to figure out how things would go if you decide to stay together.

With your parents deciding to move down to Miami a week after you graduate, it pushes the day you move out to LA earlier than you had originally intended, which makes the idea of staying together seem next to impossible. Your mother says that it’ll be a good opportunity for you to get to know the LA area before classes start in August.

This causes you and Thomas to have a more in-depth conversation about the plan and it ends with you two deciding to break it off a week before your big move. Both of you are in agreement that it would be best for the both of you, so that you have some time to recover. You figure it will be easier that way.

So, when the time comes to start packing your things for your move to California (and your parents’ move to Florida), you get stressed out. You notice that Thomas’ and your enthusiasm/positivity starts to fade as the date of graduation creeps closer and closer.

Which brings you to the present.

On the day of graduation, reality finally hits you. Because not only are you recognizing the fact that you’re leaving the love of your life in eight days to go to school in Cali, you’re also leaving Maria who has been a constant in your life since elementary school.

Maria plans to stay in town and go to community college to knock out all her general education classes before she transfers to a four-year university. Luckily, her girlfriend Ellie has the same idea, so they’ll be taking the same path after high school.

At least they will be together.

Unlike you and Thom, who are currently posing for a photo together for his and your parents who stand behind their phones grinning and teary eyed. You both give your best smiles to the cameras, trying to preserve the memory as best as possible without breaking.

Surprisingly, you and Thomas have stayed strong despite the impending suspension of your relationship that lingers in the atmosphere between you. Although teary eyed because you are saying goodbye to a lot of friends and faculty you’ve gotten to know over the years, you and Thomas don’t cry on graduation day. You don’t cry during the ceremony, you don’t cry during the many pictures you take that day, and you don’t cry at the large family dinner the Jefferson household holds for both you and Thomas.

You’ve both toughed it out both privately and in public. But graduation day eventually comes to its inevitable end, and the day after begins, marking your last day with Thomas Jefferson as your boyfriend.

The two of you make your last day special and have a day-long picnic in a nearby park. You wake up early and spend the entire day together, laughing, kissing, talking, and having as much fun as you can with the inevitable future looming over your heads. You both make the best of your time together, and that’s really all you can ask for.

As the day goes by, your time together begins to run out. And both of your composures begin to fade as each second passes.

While your curfew to be back home is 10pm, you and Thomas decide to hold onto each other a bit longer, so he drives you home and you sneak him into your room when your parents are too busy packing in the basement. They know that this is your last day with Thomas, so when you’re distracting them while Thomas makes his way up the stairs, you tell them that you’re going to sleep early. They comfort you for a few minutes but leave you to your own grief, knowing to respect your wish of ‘sleeping the night off.’

Little do they know, you and Thomas decide to have one more special night together.

When you finally make your way up to your bedroom, Thomas is sitting on your bed, glancing at the half-empty boxes in the corner of your room that need to be filled. Half of your room is packed up, but you’ve put off packing lately to spend time with Thom before you physically can’t anymore.

You let out a sniffle and you don’t realize that you are on the verge of crying until you see Thomas begin to break, too.

“Come here.” He murmurs, standing up from your bed to pull you into a tight hug.

You both cry into each other’s shoulders, fully letting yourselves go emotionally as you let out your pent up sadness. You’re getting each other’s clothing wet with tears, but neither of you care as you cling onto each other, not wanting to let go.

You don’t know how long you stay there or how long it takes until both of you calm down enough so that your tears fall silently.

“I told you this was gonna fucking suck.” Thomas mumbles against you, causing you to let out a laugh and sob at the same time.

You don’t respond, but after a few seconds, you pull away from his shoulder to look at him. Silence stretches between you before you whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you.” He echoes without hesitation before he leans his forehead against yours. You both bask in each other’s presence for a few more beats until Thomas speaks again, his words shaking. “Football won’t be the same without you, Y/N. I won’t be the same without you.”

“You played football for years before I became a part of your life. You’ll be fine, T.” You say quietly, though you are absolutely sure of your words. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek and wipe some of his tears away. “You’re gonna move on and be great and show people what you’re capable of.”

Silence stretches between the two of you before you take a step away from him as you remember something. Thomas frowns at your sudden withdrawal, but you explain yourself as you both wipe at your faces to dry them as best as each of you can.

“That reminds me…” You say, digging into one of the open boxes in the corner of your room until you feel a familiar piece of fabric. You pull out Thomas’ purple hoodie — the one he gave to you the night you officially became a couple. Damn, it feels so long ago now, but it hasn’t even been two years. “Here. You should probably take this back.”

He lets out a small laugh and takes the purple fabric from you to examine it. He seems lost in thought, but after a few moments, he shakes his head and hands it back to you. “Nah. Keep it.”

When you don’t take it, his hand reaches out to one of yours and he wraps your fingers around the fabric. You try to protest, but he continues.

“Don’t want you forgettin’ about me, now, do we?” He chuckles dryly.

“I won’t forget you, Thomas.” Your voice sounds so sure of your words that Thomas has no choice but to believe you.

He swallows and looks down for a second before he glances back into your eyes. “I know.”

“You’re gonna forget about me, though.”

Thomas shakes his head and his eyebrows scrunch together and he looks like he’s about to break again before he reaches out to pull you close.

“Never.” He mumbles into your hair before he pulls back. “Hey, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I will never forget you, Y/N Y/L/N. I couldn’t even if I tried.”

He brings his hands up to cup both sides of your face. His thumbs brush some fresh tears away before he continues to talk. “These eyes? Unforgettable. This beautiful face? Ingrained in my brain forever, sweetheart, I promise you that.” One of his thumbs lightly brushes over your lips. “Don’t even get me started on these lips. I’ll miss them for sure.”

Thomas pauses for a second before his beautiful brown eyes gaze into yours, letting you know that he truly means his next words. “I’m never going to forget any part of you, Y/N.”

You stay there, gazing at one another with nothing but pure love and admiration. Without breaking eye contact, you gingerly put Thomas’ hoodie (which is apparently yours now) back in the box you removed it from. You reach up to pull Thomas’ lips down to yours passionately.

Thomas responds, instantly reciprocating the kiss with the same amount of emotion that you pour into it. He moves his hands from your cheeks to pull your body closer to him. Your hand digs into the material of his shirt and suddenly, you can’t get enough of each other. You both need more — to be closer — but neither of you rush anything. You take it slow and try to take in every little detail about each other.

As layer after layer of clothing comes off, you two savor the feeling of each other’s lips, bodies, and touch. Every soft moan, every sigh, every gasp, every kiss… each and every moment that you spend with each other is savored in one final heat-filled act of love.

Afterwards, you both lie in your bed under the blankets, Thomas’ arm around your naked body and your head on his bare chest. You cherish each other’s presence for one final time, basking in silence until Thomas finally breaks it, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You still sure about this, sweetheart?”

You are quiet for a few seconds before you answer, sotto voce. “Yeah, T.” You listen to his steady heartbeat as you bring your hand up to rest on his torso. “You?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

A few seconds pass and you subconsciously trace little circles on his abdomen with your thumb. Thomas’ arm tightens around your waist as he pulls your closer.

“I’m sorry things have to end this way.” He mumbles against you, his deep voice reverberating throughout his chest.

“Don’t be.” You murmur, exhausted from the emotional toll this day has taken on you. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world — unless there’s a way where it doesn’t end with you and Thomas going your separate ways.

You shake your head at yourself for thinking so negatively. You promised each other something back at that diner.

“It’s not the end, T.” You speak out loud, shifting so that your head rests on the pillow and you’re face to face with Thomas. “You said it yourself before and now it’s my turn to say it: this is a ‘see you later,’ alright? So I better fucking see you later, or else.”

He laughs (oh, you’re gonna miss that laugh) and his hand slides up the curve of your hip to pull himself closer to you. “Back at ya, princess.”

You both sniffle, but you know that your time together, for the time being, at least, has come to an end — especially as both of you begin to drift off no matter how hard you try to stay awake.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” You whisper in Thomas’ warm embrace.

Thomas responds after he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to.”

So neither of you do.

And you both fall asleep, bodies entangled with one another, content to be in each other’s embrace one last time before you move away.

The next morning, Thomas wakes up before you do and he slowly untangles himself from you as he wills himself to stay strong. He dresses himself as quietly as he can before he presses one last kiss to your temple.

Then, he takes one last look at your sleeping form before he leaves, keeping his word to you and not giving either of you a chance to say your goodbyes.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

A week later, your heart beats frantically as you drop a box of things you plan on leaving behind against the wall outside of your room.

It’s minutes before you’re supposed to leave for the airport — you want to leave early in case something goes wrong and you get delayed. Sighing, you walk back into your empty room to check for any last things you may have missed packing into the many boxes that are already stashed into your parents’ car.

“Y/N?” You hear your brother call out from downstairs. “I think there’s someone waiting for you outside.”

Who could it be? You’ve already said your goodbyes to Maria earlier that day when she’d helped you finish packing.

Erik gives you a sad smile as you pass by and you give him a confused look.

“What? Who is it?” You ask, eyebrows raised. “You know we have to leave in a few, right?”

“You’ll see.” Erik says, causing you to sigh.

After determining that your final sweep (even though you’ve done it three times now) is done, you make your way past Erik and open the front door. When you make it onto your driveway, you’re shocked to see Thomas Jefferson standing there with a sheepish grin and his hands in his pockets, looking as handsome as ever.

“Thomas…” You trail off, surprised to see him after your last day together the week prior. “What are you doing here?”

Your boyfriend (well… ex now, technically) walks closer and takes his hands out of his pockets. You can see him fidgeting with his fingers as he speaks. “I uh…” He breathes out a nervous laugh before one of his hands reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

You watch him from a few feet away as he struggles to get his words out.

“Well, I… as your… not-boyfriend wanted to say goodbye.” He says softly, shifting his eyes to the ground briefly before looking back up to gaze into yours. “I changed my mind. Leaving without saying goodbye just gutted me and made me feel like we had unfinished business. I had to see you one more time, Y/N. I-I’m sorry.” Thomas’ voice is unstable as he apologizes and you feel tears well up in your eyes as he continues. “I know this breaks our agreement and everything, but I couldn’t just let you leave before—”

You cut him off by stalking forward to wrap him into a crushing hug — a hug the two of you desperately need at the moment. Thomas doesn’t waste a second before his arms encircle your waist to hold you just as tightly to him.

Even though you had spent the entire day with each other just a week prior, the need to see each other — to feel each other — one last time has consumed you both. You agree that waking up to an empty bed without saying a proper goodbye (even though it’s what you had initially wanted) had crushed you, and it had caused you to be an emotional wreck to the following two days.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, sniffling before letting out a bittersweet laugh. “I just made this so much more fucking difficult for us.”

“It’s okay.” You reciprocate his laugh as tears stream down your face. “It’s so worth it, T.”

A few minutes pass by as you hold each other close.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I’m really gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, T.” You say quietly. “So much.”

You’ve lost track of time and your mother is the one to finally bring you and Thomas back to reality.

“Y/N, we gotta go, honey…” Your mom speaks as softly as possible from her position at the front door, and you can see the guilt on her face as she watches her daughter’s heart break. “You’re gonna be late for your flight.”

You turn back to Thomas and give him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. You gave me the best year and eight months I could ever ask for… so thank you.”

You look up at him for a second before you sob and crash into his chest. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.” He replies softly before he steels himself. “But you have a flight to catch. Which means you need to go.”

You give him one last kiss, it’s watery from both of your tears but neither of you care.

“Go be great.” He says when you pull back. “You deserve the world, Y/N.”

He holds your hand until the grip slips when you take a step towards the car.

“See you later, Thomas.”

He smiles through his tears before he replies. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

You get in the car and a few seconds later, your mother pulls out of the driveway (apparently Erik and your father are going to drive separately). As the car drives away, Thomas waves from your driveway until you can’t see him anymore. You know that’s the last you’ll see of him for a while.

And maybe, just maybe, you regret leaving him behind.

But a voice lingers in the back of your mind that gives you some sort of relief:

If it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be.

#thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs x reader #jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #daveed diggs imagine #high school au #hamilton fanfic #thomas jefferson fanfic #wideout #feel free to yell at me #but on the bright side #GET READY TO MEET NFL!THOM #what a man

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lawxbread · 3 years

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hiya!!!can I ask for a scenario with some angsttt?😂😂I was thinking maybe sanji got hurt in a fight and was hiding his injuries but his fem!s/o found out? thanks so much in advance!! (I don't rly like nsfw smut stuff I just love angsty stuff for some reason loool)

(´• ω •`) ♡ Hey yo!! Thanks a bunch for requesting! I got so upbeat reading your ask since we all love Sanji, so I couldn’t wait to write it! Like you, I find myself appreciating writing/reading angst stuff lately so... your request came in handy !! I hope you enjoy it, have a nice and safe day! <3

I’d never think of you as a failure

Sanji x fem!reader

Summary: Sanji has been acting weird since he came back from an exploration mission. Thanks to that, an excruciating event happened between you and Sanji. Obviously, you couldn’t help but try to figure out what’s going on with him. Sanji’s cheeling past with his family certainly has to do with it. Well, at least he has you to count on.

Warnings: angst, disagreements, troubled past

Word count: ~1.7k

"I miss him..." You mumble to yourself as soon as you wake up, seeing the left side of your bed empty.

It's been a few days since Sanji, your boyfriend, left the ship with Luffy, Robin, Franky, and Law's crew to explore an island. The band split into two groups to streamline the process of going in search of the blue poneglyphs. Consequently, you and the rest of the crew are in charge of keeping tabs on the ship, while the other group is using Law's submarine since all of you agreed to meet at the next island.

You and the others have been waiting for the rest of the crew as you already arrived on the encounter island four days ago.

"Good morning, Nami." You greet the Straw hats' navigator while you approach Sunny's aquarium. She is sitting on the bench, "Morning, Y/N!". You both start a conversation, then you bring up the subject of the rest of the crew's members comeback, showing your worries about Sanji's safety. "I can't stand it anymore. I miss him so freaking much." You say as you cross your arms, with your hands gripping upper them. "I guess I've been used to be by his side." Nami can't help but give you a sad look. She tries to comfort you by saying they will arrive when you least expect it.

Suddenly, You hear someone yells, "THEY'RE HERE!! LUFFY AND THE OTHERS!!"

"Oh my god. And I want to earn a hundred million bellies!" Nami jokes as soon as she realizes the amused fluke. You don't hesitate a second and run towards the room's door in an attempt to check if it's true, with your heart pounding out of your chest, utterly desperate.

You see Usopp in the ship's mainmast, with his hands screening his eyes from the sun's light as he tries to get a better view of the group coming. He can't stop smiling and screaming about the other group's return, giving you a glad feeling.

"Oi!! Oi, oi, oi!" It's Luffy, happily waving at all of you. Your eyes automatically start looking for Sanji in the crowd. As soon as you see your boyfriend, without a second thought, you run towards him, immediately jumping out of Sunny, "Sanji!!".

When Sanji notices you, a smile from ear to ear on his face appears. He opens his arms, implying to give you a tight hug.

Quickly, you hug him. The warmth you feel when you both embrace each other is incomparable, "I missed you." Sanji whispers as he holds you.

When you are about to let go of the embrace, you slowly rub your arm over Sanji's right shoulder, "Ouch!" Sanji unintentionally lets out, as if he was in pain. "What happened??" You worriedly ask. "It's Nothing, Y/N-chan." Sanji grins while he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, "I'm okay. Don't worry." You can't help but fret about him. Still, you pass this matter over for a while.

Thereabout eight hours have passed since Luffy's group return. Since then, you've been spending this whole time with Sanji.

You are sitting on a bench in front of the kitchen countertop while you watch Sanji cooking the banquet for the celebration later, "You look tired.", you say with a concerned voice tone as you fold your hands together on the countertop. "How long has it been since you've slept decently?" Sanji scratches his neck with his index finger, "I'm not tired, Y/N-chan." Sanji replies while he puts some flour on the tip of your nose, leaving it entirely white. So then, he chuckles. "I've been sleeping well, don't worry." Afresh, he smiles, but you know he's hiding something from you. Sanji is unsettled, for sure.

The big celebration starts, lots of food all over the dinner table, which follows the Straw hats' classic menu: basically, the favorite dish of each one of the members. All of these, prepared by your sweet boyfriend and, also, the best cooker you've ever met, Sanji.

Luffy approaches the table, his mouth drooling for complete. Expectedly, he starts eating a piece of meat. When suddenly he asks with his mouth full, "Where's Sanji?" He's right. Sanji said he was quickly going to go to the room of you both about 45 minutes ago. You lean back and look up, wondering why Sanji is taking so long. Owing to that, you get up from your seat, "I'm gonna go call him."

An anxiety awareness comes as you walk towards your room. You don't know why, but you are having an awful feeling about Sanji's absence; a quickened breath takes over your lungs. Perhaps this is due to his behavior since he arrived. Genuinely, you know that he is not well, and it worries the hell out of you.

Even though it's also your room, you try to respect Sanji's privacy, considering that you don't know what he is doing inside there.

In reason of that, you knock on the door. No answer. You try it again. Still no answer. You do it five more times, and Sanji doesn't reply.

So you decide to come in.

You gradually open the door as you murmur, "Sanji?"

You take slow steps on the wooden floor. Sanji is not in the main room, so you call on his name using a louder voice, "Sanji!". Suddenly, a noise comes from the bathroom.

You immediately head over there. Hence, a feeling of shock erodes your body as you see Sanji failing to try to hide a big bruise on his right shoulder. You can't stop looking at the wound as you put your hands over your mouth in shock. The wound is really bad. It looks like it was an extremely strong punch's blow or something like that. Apparently, the injury has been there for about a week, so it's not recent. That is, Sanji was hiding it from you.

Sanji freezes and stares at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, " Y/N-chan..." His voice, a stuttering timbre. "Why didn't you tell me?" You ask him as you crease your brow and twist your mouth, trying to think of a logical reason that explains why he'd done that.

Sanji is simply shocked. He presses his fingers firmly against the palm of his hand. As if he is holding on to the urge to do something he doesn't want at all. Unexpectedly, his eyes flood with tears. Sanji was holding back the urge to cry. Cry in front of you.

"No, don't cry!! I hate it when you cry!!" You give him the saddest look you've ever had. He's paralyzed from head to toe. The only movement you see as you look at him is the tears running down his cheeks.

"Sanji!!!!" You shout to him while you fight back the craving to cry. Hands lead to your forehead as you feel your bloodstream on fire. Sanji is not saying a thing. He is doing nothing but cries and staring at you while he does so. "God...This is breaking my heart." Your voice is in a whiney tone, implying an inevitable shedding of tears. Then, eventually, your eyes well up.

"J-just talk to me...Please." You beg. Sanji shakes his head slightly as if he is trying to take a kind of stupor away. He glances at you with a fake smile, "I'm sorry for not telling you." He wipes his tears with his left hand, "I don't know why I cried." Sanji artificially chuckles, "I'm okay."

The cooker is lying to you again, so you confront him, "Stop telling me you're okay!!!!!" You exclaim. Sanji looks surprised at you. Then you add, "I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong." And when he opens his mouth to answer you, you interrupt him, "And don't try lying to me again." You give him a severe look.

A bleak silence takes over the bathroom for about 10 seconds. Sanji keeps staring at you, hesitating to speak the truth.

But then, he decides to blow off steam to you. "I got hurt in a fight." He looks down, avoiding your glance, "I didn't wanna you to think..." A line appears between your brows. "To think I'm weak." He looks back at you, "Damn it! How pathetic am I for crying like a baby in front of you??!" Sanji sighs as he palms his forehead.

You give Sanji a once-over, "Sanji!!!". He wide-eyed stares at you, "Why would you think that??" You can't help but be nervous, "I can't..." You cross your arms, "I can't just sit by and do nothing when obviously you're suffering." Further, Sanji is hesitating again. He lights a cigarette as a down look fills his face. When, finally, he confesses, "My family... used to treat me like..." Sanji blows a cigarette smoke, "... like a failure because they thought I wasn't strong enough." Sanji admits as he squeezes his eyes shut, fighting back his tears. "I don't wanna you to think I'm a failure and to doubt my strength as they did." He adds, "That's why I hid my injuries from you." Sanji quivers his lips as you gradually approach him.

"Sanji..." you mumble his name while you walk towards him. He opens his tearful eyes and gazes at you. When, suddenly, you hug him like you're never going to let him go, "I'd never, under any circumstances..." You look up, trying to maintain eye contact with him, "...Think of you as a failure." You smile with your eyes and mouth at him.

Sanji is shaken. Now he's crying again. But with joy. He can't stop smiling and crying at the same time. He holds you even more tightly in his arms; even though it is painful for his injured shoulder, he doesn't care. It's like he's anesthetized at the moment.

"Mmm...You're warm." He says.

The words you just said ended up comforting Sanji's traumatized and troubled soul. "Now, let me treat your injury properly." You ask him with a grin.

Later, you're sitting on the edge of the bed with Sanji as you bandage his injured shoulder. When, suddenly, you stop bandaging and then, you kiss it, "If I could..." You say as you look at Sanji's profile face, "I'd kiss away all of your scars." Lovingly, you smile at him. At last, Sanji looks back at you.

A pleasant silence fills the room as he presses his forehead against yours, "I love you." Sanji whispers.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece sanji #vismoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece scenario #one piece scenarios #sanji scenario #sanji angst #one piece oneshot #one piece one shot #one piece imagine #one piece angst #angst #op sanji #one piece fanfiction #one piece fic

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shiroandblack · 3 years

Text

Finwë, the Progenitor of the 'Fins'

[Disclaimer: what you are about to read are basically my thoughts and interpretation of Finwë. So if you have different thoughts and opinions that's perfectly fine]

Oh, and I'm totally not doing this because I'm procrastinating on the Fëanor thought-vomit I have going on in my head. Pfft, absolutely not!

Finwë, High King of the Noldor, Daddy to Fëanor, Findis, Fingolfin, Lalwen, and Finarfin (not that kind of daddy, get yer minds out of the gutter), husband to both Míriel and Indis, the Ned Stark of the Silmarillion, (depending on who you ask) the Fin to Elu's Finelwë -

I should stop.

First of all, we have no idea where this guy came from (I think?). He just suddenly popped out as an ambassador who basically went out with his buddies (OG Goldilocks and Tall Boy) to scout Valinor and see if the elves should move there or not. Prior to that, Finwë is not mentioned anywhere. People are generally divided if he was Tata's son as was Ingwë being Imin's son and Elwë being Enel' or if he's Unbegotten. Some also headcanon him as an orphan with his parents gone via Morgoth Kidnapping which was why he was chosen as an ambassador. I mean, magical guy on horse saying he'll take their society somewhere? I wouldn't really send the heirs or chieftains, I'd send someone competent enough to be a diplomat but ultimately no great loss to the tribal society of Cuiviénen (my god did I spell that right) if magical guy does pull a Dark Rider. Personally I do think that if he was indeed an orphan, it would explain some things in particular, like his want for many children and just a big family in general.

Anyways, the three go on their joy trip to Valinor and come back and go like "come, come, there are two pretty trees and no Dark Rider". I personally would have gone because of the no Dark Rider part but hey, if you like shiny, glowing trees and that's your main motivation, no judgement. Right after that, we don't know what happens to Imin, Tata, or Enel. Working on the assumption that the three are different people to the three '-wë's then they could have become Avari since the Avari are Tatyar and Nelyar. Interestingly, the Minyar all go and there is no more mention of Imin despite he was chieftain of all chieftains and then suddenly Ingwë is High King of all Elves? I'm gonna go with @squirrelwrangler's Klingon route here from their story 'Of Ingwë Ingweron' because I think there should be more depth to Ingwë and on a completely irrelevant note I have had a crush on 'the boy who would be Ingwë' since I started reading. You probably didn't need to know that, but now you do :)

(As you can see, I'm being very objective.)

BACK TO THE MAIN POINT. THIS IS A POST ABOUT FINWË. So anyways, the Great Journey happened and for some reason he and Elwë decide to meet up in a forest to do what nobody knows. Anyways, Elwë got skadooshed by Melian and Finwë went to Aman forever regretting the fact that he never got to do Elwë - I MEAN DO WHATEVER HE AND ELWË PLANNED in the woods of Nan Elmoth.

There he got married. Now, this is where I actually stop making fun of Finwë (yeah, no) and give you my interpretations and analysis which none of you have asked for but I'm doing anyways. So right off the bat, even when Míriel is obviously tired from giving birth to the baby who is his own crematorium - sorry, I meant Fëanàro - Finwë goes like "oh he's so pretty, I'm sure our other kids will be just as pretty". Which goes to show us that Finwë likely wanted an armada of kids right from the start. Y'all know what happens next. Point is, Míriel's dead and gone and Finwë is understandably a Sad Boy™.

Now, he also exhibits a certain impatient streak after Míriel dies. Surely he knew that the more he bothered Míriel about "hey, when are you gonna come back?" the more obstinate Míriel would be about not returning. I say he is impatient because he is an elf. He technically has all the time in Arda to wait for Míriel to return, but curiously he doesn't wait. Now, Fëanor was born in YT 1169 and Fingolfin in YT 1190 and since one YT is about 10 solar years (I'm pretty sure it's 9.8 years ish but I suck at maths so please have mercy on me) that means that Fëanor was around 200 years old when Fingolfin was born and we know Findis is elder. 200 years for an elf is not long at all, hell to the elven perception of time Finwë marrying Indis is probably like someone going out dating after 40 days of abstinence after a break up. This means that he married Indis relatively quickly after Míriel died, which shows that he was very eager for the marriage to happen.

Why? Was it because he knew Míriel wouldn't return for a very long time? Or was it because he wanted more kids? Or maybe that impatience is just intrinsic to Finwë's character? I actually don't know what to make of his motivations regarding this, so I'd love to hear anyone's opinions.

Finwë supposedly fell in love with Indis when he was going to visit Ingwë and saw her singing and the light was golden and Indis glowed and yeah. Prior to that, they most likely met in Tirion or even in Cuiviénen as Indis was close kin to Ingwë so I highly doubt that this was their first meeting and Indis was in love with Finwë since the early days of when the Vanyar and Noldor still stayed together in Tirion. This does make me wonder that even when Finwë was married to Míriel, were there seeds of feelings towards Indis? No, I am not saying he had an affair with Indis while married to Míriel, but you can feel attracted to someone even while married to another. But considering Finwë's favouritism towards Fëanor, I don't think this was the case and he probably began falling in love with Indis when he saw her singing and being basked in golden light. I do wonder what would have happened if he saw her picking her nose instead but hey, elves don't pick their noses in the Silm because all the nose dirt is removed by the sheer amount of times they must've cried in the First Age. Snotty crying ftw.

Many people in-universe seem to think that his second marriage was a mistake, but I do not think his marriage per say was a mistake. To me Finwë had the right to move on from Míriel, but what I don't agree with was that the Valar basically locked her up in Mandos for eternity. But this is a point of conflict that I feel I should address in a separate post about the Valar. In any case, what I think was the mistake was Finwë's impactful favouritism of Fëanor and his failure to reconcile Fëanor and his children by Indis. As there are a lot of external factors to him being unable to make his kids get along, I will be focusing more on the negative effects of his favouritism.

Finwë's marriage to Indis seems almost like a spontaneous decision, I don't think he actually sat Fëanor down and explained things to him quite well. After all, in Fëanor's mind Indis is the reason his mother is forever dead which is not really the case. Finwë wanted to marry Indis and Indis wanted to marry Finwë. It takes two to make the relationship work, after all. But despite Indis giving him what he wanted which is more children and a big family in general, Finwë still favoured Fëanor. Now I do get favouritism because everyone has favourites, but Finwë's favouritism only served to create more strife between Fëanor and Fingolfin. With one child, he lavishes praise and attention to the point that it's detrimental to Fëanor's growth as a person and with the other children, Fingolfin felt ignored enough to tailor his entire life into proving that he is more worthy to be Finwë's heir to - for a lack of better word - get his father to look at him the same way Finwë looks at Fëanor.

I don't doubt that Finwë loved his kids. I think he did love both Fëanor and his children by Indis, but the thing is . . . his actions always show that he loved Fëanor more. And I think that must have been devastating for his other children and what was the worst in my opinion is that Finwë doesn't seem to realise this. This could be a form of selective ignorance on Finwë's part or it could simply be that Finwë felt that he was giving equal attention to his children and that Fëanor needed more attention because he didn't have a mother. This is a logical thought process for him, but just because something seems logical it doesn't mean it's the right thing. Personally, I think Finwë's feelings towards Fëanor revolve around love and guilt and that guilt over denying Fëanor a birth mother makes him put Fëanor on a pedestal above his other children.

Now I'm gonna dive in to the circumstances up to his death. Prior to the infamous 'point-a-sword-at-traitorous-half brother' incident, the Noldor already had factions brewing under each of Finwë's sons. Which means that there were different groups supporting different sons (I'm just gonna give this quick glance because Noldorin elf politics and succession matters requires its own post honestly), both Fëanor and Fingolfin's group were advocating for these two princes to be Finwë's heir while Finarfin's most likely stayed neutral as throughout the text Finarfin has shown no real desire for kingship as his brothers (well, little did he know that his mother-name would come true in an arguably sad way). What is very interesting is the fact that Fingolfin thought he could be king after Finwë to begin with, which suggests to me that Finwë hadn't formally declared an heir. Usually it is assumed that the eldest son is heir and there would be no formal declaration needed, but the thing is Finwë had sons by a different queen and what's more is Fingolfin and Finarfin were the children of the ruling queen. Why he didn't do a formal declaration, I do wonder, because while it may have embittered Fingolfin for awhile I do think that if Fëanor had been assured of his position then maybe the two could have had some semblance of a healthy relationship. Maybe he viewed it as causing a greater rift between his children?

Now we finally get on to the sword pulling incident. We all know what happens, so I'll just skip on to the aftermath. Fëanor is exiled by Manwë, Finwë views this as an insult to his authority. I do agree that this can be viewed as that because as a Noldo, Fëanor should answer to the king of the Noldor and Manwë is exiling someone who is not his subject. But the thing is, Finwë probably wasn't going to really punish him and that's why Manwë stepped in. Hell, we have no evidence of a trial going on for what Fëanor did. But the thing is, this isn't just a regular Fëanor and Fingolfin screaming match this was Fëanor actually threatening harm to Fingolfin in front of everyone. The guy literally sashayed into the room, wearing armour and drew a sword. This must have been the equivalent of a bank robber drawing out a loaded gun to the elves.

Anyways, ya know what good ol' Finwë did to protest against Manwë's interference and Fëanor getting exiled -

He incited the Fourth Shinobi War -

No, he just yeeted off with Fëanor. Look guys, I have neutral feelings towards Fingolfin I mean he is no victim (in general) because he has done some pretty presumptuous things (which is what makes him interesting, let's be honest), but I have never ever felt so bad for him before. Hell, this is an even worse 'fuck you' then making him cross the Helcaraxë because Fingolfin's main motivation in life thus far is probably to be equal to Fëanor in Finwë's eyes. I mean, he did leave Fingolfin regent (did he? Oh gosh, I honestly forgot) but still dealt an emotional blow anyways.

Right, so we don't get much of what Finwë did in Formenos but maybe this whole thing was just for him to get a holiday. And then Melkor comes and fucks shit up by killing Finwë. Now, I'm going to talk about Finwë's murder and why it is in my opinion the Inciting Incident™ of the Silm, the Chekhov's gun being fired so to speak, the equivalent of Ned Stark's execution in the Tolkienverse. Everything else, Melkor's lies, the creation of the Silmarils, the drama between the brothers, it was a build up to this moment. And everything after, the exile of the Noldor, the War of the Jewels, it was what happened because of Finwë's murder. Prior to this, there were already factions among the Noldor as previously discussed above but none of these factions actually openly made any moves against each other. Why? Because Finwë was still alive, because Finwë was essentially the lynchpin holding the Noldor together. Now, I'm pretty sure that Morgoth killed Finwë just to fuck Fëanor's shit up even more, but what he did was quite tactically brilliant. He has effectively wrought chaos among the Noldor in one single swoop.

And thus the Quenta Silmarillion happens.

In Mandos, he meets Míriel and tells her about his life. Because maybe it went something like this:

Finwë: so yeah, you know I was with our son all the way through and then I died. What have you been doing?

Míriel: oh, you know the usual things one does when one is condemned to Mandos for eternity.

Anyways, he gives up any opportunity for life for Míriel. Which is admittedly a nice thing to do since the reason Míriel is kinda stuck there is related to him, until you find out Míriel weaves the history of the House of Finwë instead of well, I don't know building the Mírindis ship? Yeah, she probably weaved Fingon getting his head smashed open by Gothmog and getting his corpse trampled. Oh and the 'If I Die, You Die' duel between Celegorm and Dior which probably wasn't as badass as Katniss' "If we burn, you burn with us" line from Mockingjay made it seem but more bloody and violent. Also Maedhros throwing himself off into a fiery chasm. Finrod getting mauled by a werewolf.

Good times, I'm sure.

But hey, at least Fëanor comes within a few seconds after stepping into Beleriand to keep him company.

So, I'm done with teasing my analysis of Finwë. Thank you for your time. Have a nice day.

Just keep procrastinating <3

#the silmarillion #lotr #silm stuff #finwë #fëanor #fingolfin #the ASOIAF and Naruto and Hunger Games references you probably didnt need #house of finwë #look at me trying to form my thoughts into coherent paragraphs #ingwë #because i have a crush on him #elwë #because yeah #tags galore #i should be doing something productive

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gullivertravelstowonderland · 3 years

Note

Since Doomguy probably got all or most of his clothes shredded in the Divinity Machine Incident, imagine him going to a nice Sentinel tailor or seamstress to get fitted for some new clothes and armor. :)

Ficlet under the cut!

The Doom Marine awoke slowly, vaguely aware of the fact that he was laying on the floor, shrapnel of some kind pressing into his bare stomach. A distant voice was frantically calling to him, a strange weight settled on his arm and harshly pushing at his temple.

He slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes, absently shifting to drag a hand over his face with a groan. Whatever was on his arm flinched away, falling from its perch with an audible 'oof.'

"Watch it, you damnable oaf!" The Doom Marine froze, confused; he knew that voice. That was… God, right, the Divinity Machine!

He shot up, the back of his head connecting with something as he let out a pained growl, one hand slamming into the ground as he searched for the source of the voice. His eyes narrowed as they fell on the creature curled on the ground, staring up at him with both anger and fear in its eyes. His own eyes widened for a split second as he processed what had happened.

"You… What the hell did you do to me?!" The human barked, wrapping his free hand around his sore throat after he'd spoken. His voice rumbled low and gravelly, grating against his vocal chords for reasons he didn't quite understand, head spinning as the Makyr cowered under him, covering his ears and fixing a glare on the soldier.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! You weren't meant to become a monster!" Samur fumbled back off of the floor, running a hand along the curve of his mask with a frustrated sigh. "It must have something to do with your biology reacting poorly to the machine— either way, we're both going to die if we waste any more time! We need to work together if we want to get out of this, understand?"

The Doom Marine growled, trying to position himself so he didn't feel so… exposed as the Makyr tried to explain his plan.

—

When the Elite Sentinel Guard found the human, he was pressed against the wall with his knees to his chest, settled into the indented ring that surrounded the remains of the Divinity Machine. Samur had ordered them to bring a large sheet of fabric, crafting some story about a betrayer of some sort giving him access to the machine, and using it to make him a weapon more powerful than anything the Argenta had ever seen, in order to defeat the demons that invaded their land. The Doom Marine's job was mostly to stay quiet about who brought him there and comply with their demands until Samur was done with him.

To say the soldiers were shocked to find him in such a state would be an understatement. They were terrified, although you wouldn't know it at first glance: they had their weapons raised and stances defensive as they approached the giant. Two of them stepped forward, holding the fabric out to him, ready to spring into action the second things went wrong.

He hummed to himself, carefully raising a hand so they could see before he slowly reached towards them, gently taking the cloth from them with a small nod in thanks.

The two Sentinels quickly retreated back into the safety of their group as he unfolded the plain fabric, mentally planning how he was going to cover himself with it as he waited for the group to empty the room so he could clothe himself. When they made no move to leave, the Doom Marine turned his attention to them, fixing them with a peculiar stare.

"Can I… be alone?" He mumbled, deciding to ignore the pain it caused. An embarrassed blush crept over his cheeks as the soldiers cautiously complied, looking down at the cloth with a sigh before slowly standing in the small space once he was completely out of view. He had to be careful not to hit his head on any of the floating pillars as he stood, experimentally wrapping the fabric around his waist.

Fuck, this wasn't really gonna work, was it? He couldn't walk out of here wearing nothing but a scrap of cloth wrapped around him like a towel. He tore the fabric off with an indignant huff, his eyes scanning the room for anything he could use to sew it into something more fitting.

He grabbed some wires and a thin metal pole from the remains of the Divinity Machine, using his teeth to shape one end of the pipe into a loop before threading the wire through it. He laid the fabric out, using a piece of sharp metal to tear through it where he needed to and doing his best to turn the heap of cloth into a decently wearable pair of shorts. They weren't bad, considering the limited materials and circumstances he had to work with, just a bit loose around the waist; a problem easily fixed by tearing some tubing from the machine and tying it around his waist like a belt.

Once he was finally dressed, he slowly inched his way towards the door, peeking out at the soldiers gathered outside waiting for him. They sat amongst themselves in an anxious huddle, exchanging whispered words in their native tongue. A few jumped to attention once they noticed the giant looming in the doorway, offering an awkward wave as they brandished their weapons.

"Come on, we don't have all day. The shop closes in an hour." One of the higher-ranking Sentinels grumbled as he approached the Doom Marine, he and a few others ushering him out of the room, edging towards him with their weapons raised.

"Shop?" He questioned, stumbling as he tripped over his own weight. The Sentinels corralling him flinched, darting out of the way as he struggled to regain his footing, an apologetic cringe crossing his face.

His entire balance was off, despite his body seeming to be completely proportional— if a tad bit more muscular. Maybe it was just a side effect of the machine, or something had changed besides his height; whatever it was, the Doom Slayer wasn't really willing to dwell on it.

Civilians and soldiers alike stopped to gawk at the giant as he passed by, sheepishly curling in on himself at the unwanted attention. Why did this have to happen to him? Why did they have to drag him into town and make a huge spectacle out of him when all he wanted to do after the incident was curl up and disappear?

He was snapped out of his self-deprecating thoughts by a concerned shout, belatedly realizing that he had almost knocked someone over when the group suddenly stopped.

"S— sorry." He mumbled, turning his attention to the building they had stopped beside as a few of them made their way inside, most likely to speak with the owners. "Is this… a tailor shop?"

"Of course. You didn't think you'd be wearing that into battle, did you?"

His head snapped to the source of the voice, his eyes falling on the higher-ranking soldier from earlier. His brows furrowed inquisitively as he carefully lowered himself to the ground, afraid he misheard the small soldier. They all stepped back as he crouched, the group readying their weapons again.

"Battle?"

"Of… of course. You've proved your worth in the arena, and you would clearly have an advantage on the battlefield: not to mention you'd need to find some way to repay our people for the resources it would take to keep you alive… it's just the most logical solution." He muttered, fidgeting nervously with his armor under the Doom Marine's imposing gaze.

It didn't take long for the shop's doors to open again, the owner emerging with a quiet squeak of shock, turning to the soldier beside them and whispering something in the alien language. The giant settled himself on the ground with a sigh, the chill of night creeping ever closer, seeping into his exposed skin with a shiver. The superior soldier noticed, and quickly spoke up.

"Is there any way we could do this inside? I'd rather not make my troops suffer the cold any longer than they must— including the giant. I'd hate to imagine the amount of medicine it would take to cure a cold at that size…"

The giant stifled a laugh, following as the tailor led them around the building to what seemed to be a delivery entrance. The Doom Marine made his way towards the garage-like door, careful to step over the others this time as he forced it open and slipped into the blessedly warm space, ignoring the cries of shock and alarm at the action as he settled himself amongst the fabrics. The others followed suit, standing guard as the tailor closed the door and made their way towards the giant, gingerly extending a hand to touch his knee, and clambering on top of it when the giant made no move to stop them.

He sucked in a shocked breath, the sensation of another living, breathing person walking along his legs sending goosebumps crawling over his skin. He felt his face flush as he held his breath, watching the small tailor as they tested their footing on the odd surface. Once they'd seemingly found their balance, the tailor curiously padded over his lap, seemingly fascinated by the giant as they prodded at his limbs and torso, eliciting an odd noise to come from the back of his throat in response.

The tailor chuckled lightly as they held one end of the measuring tape out for the marine to hold, carefully making their way down the giant's leg until they ran out of tape with a huff. They decided instead to settle themself on the giant's knee and scribble the measurement into their notepad.

The Slayer shifted slightly, unsure of how to act in this odd scenario. The Sentinel soldiers would raise their weapons at the slightest movement, eyeing the larger man wearily; that he was used to. He was always the outsider, or the gruesome warrior, or the enemy— he was used to being stared at in mistrust or disdain— but this? This strange, casual fascination? Not normal.

The procedure continued semi-normally, the soldiers eyeing him warily as the tailor did their job, occasionally glancing up at the giant to mutter a request in that odd language, miming whatever it was they wanted. They didn't seem to speak English, but they certainly understood it, as they could respond to the human's questions rather easily. They seemed to truly enjoy working with the unusual client, despite the obvious difficulties. The Slayer, however, couldn't quite say the same.

It proved to be increasingly difficult to sit still during the strange procedure, as the comparatively small tailor clambered awkwardly over his much larger frame. The sensation felt… oddly familiar to the marine, though he couldn't quite place why. Of course, that wasn't much of a surprise. He had spent far too many years traversing the unforgiving planes of Hell and Argent D'Nur to retain much knowledge of his life before; he couldn't even remember his own name anymore.

At some point, while the tailor was measuring the length of his arm, a slight misstep and the ensuing twitch of the giant's muscles nearly sent the Argenta tumbling to the ground, the swift movement of the Slayer's reflexes startling the guards into defensive positions, ready to attack at the first sign of danger. The marine wasn't even fully sure what had happened by the time his brain registered the fact that an actual, living person was literally in his hand, sending his heart into his throat as he scrambled for the words to explain himself, trying to force his breathing to return to normal.

The tailor suddenly seemed so fragile, making the Slayer almost afraid to move, lest they fall to pieces. He could feel the Argenta's heart hammering in the small, almost doll-like chest. Each panicked breath wracked their whole body as their brain struggled to comprehend where they were and how they got there. They looked around briefly before locking eyes with their savior, the shocked and slightly panicked expression visibly relaxing as they caught their breath. For a moment it was as if time had stopped, as no one in the room moved or made a sound, just… froze.

Then, the tailor laughed, sending small tremors through the giant's hand with the motion.

It wasn't clear if it was from relief, shock, or just the pure absurdity of the situation, but the sound quickly broke the tension in the room as the others joined in, each for their own, unknowable reasons. The Slayer chuckled in relief, mostly, but also the utter strangeness of the whole day, culminating in the restrained, nearly hysterical laughing fit he had now, shaking his entire body as tears crept from his eyes.

His attention turned to the tailor when he felt the Argenta shift in his hand, softly clearing their throat before speaking, eyes locked with the Slayer's, a hand gently squeezing his thumb.

"Thank you, amiixus." The small person smiled, placing a fist over their heart in what the Slayer understood to be the planet's general sign of friendship, and he carefully shifted his free hand to mimic the gesture with a nod.

Friend. He liked the idea of finding a friend in all of this madness.

—

//In the end the tailor gives the Doom Slayer a small selection of outfits, as well as his custom-fitted Praetor suit— with a bit of help from the Maykers and a team of assistants, of course! Anyways, I really liked this idea and got a bit carried away lol. Hope you like it!

#g/t #giant/tiny #giant tiny #giant #tiny #doom au #doomguy #doom slayer #doom #doom eternal #doom 2016 #giants #giant doomguy #g/t writing #amod #a monster of divinity

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just-come-baek · 4 years

Text

get in, loser 2

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | carthief!reader | streetracer!reader

Word count: 8.3k

Summary: As controversial as it is, it’s Taeyong’s order for me to participate in the most prestigious race of the underground. As one may expect, it is frowned upon by other gang members.

A/N !REUPLOAD! sorry I fucked something up. Next parts shall be posted on Tuesdays every two weeks.

***

Getting up early in the morning isn’t really my thing. I was the most productive during late evenings and nights, and the fact that I had to be ready unusually early fucked up my sleeping schedule. Hopefully, it was the first, and the last time my presence was requested at such an unholy hour. Right after getting introduced to my new workplace, they had to be flexible enough to let me adjust the work schedule to my preference.

Unfortunately, Taeyong didn’t specify how early Lucas wants to see me the next day. I guessed it was around 7 o’clock in the morning – it was late enough for an early bird, yet early enough for someone who doesn’t really fancy getting up at sunrise.

Having parked my starling Fiat500 in front of the building, I saw a man. He was leaned against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette. It must’ve been Lucas. Who else could’ve been? It was the asscrack of dawn, for crying out loud!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me… that’s your car?” the man asked as he flicked the butt of the cigarette, stepping on it, grinding it against the ground, visibly galled by my cute feminine vehicle.

“It’s inconspicuous,” I commented, trying to make my point. Blending in after hours was one of the most crucial things in this profession, I didn’t want to go on and scream that I steal cars and race for a living.

“You’re late,” Lucas whispered. Under any other circumstances, I would roll my eyes, but right now, I just couldn’t. I was just staring at him, slowly checking him out. He was ridiculously handsome, and I tried my best not to drool. “I’m Lucas,” he said, sending me a playful smirk.

Politely, I introduced myself despite him already knowing who I was.

“That’s impressive,” Lucas commented, and I shrugged, not wanting to go through this once again. “How did you do it? It’s not that easy to steal Taeyong’s car, let alone Yuta’s,” he added, and I sighed, trying to come up with a vague and equivocal answer.

“What can I say? You’ve gotta have charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent.”

“Alright, I get it, keep your secrets,” Lucas voiced, biting his lips as if in deep thought. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure this out,” he promised and smiled, willing to take this secret with me to the grave. (I had a bad feeling in my gut, telling me Taeyong would be pissed if he found out the truth about the theft, and I was too cowardly to admit the facts.)

“Are we gonna stand here the whole day, or are you gonna show me around?” I challenged, and Lucas took a step to the side, gentlemanly letting me enter the car repair shop, following closely behind me.

“Ladies first,” he added, chuckling.

It wasn’t a typical car repair shop. The space was huge, and it could accommodate at least fifteen vehicles. On the inside, it resembled a car factory, but instead of assembling the cars, people were taking them apart.

What surprised me the most was the fact that I was the only female inside. Though I knew it was a stereotypically a male profession, men to women ratio was astounding. I didn’t mind it, though. I knew I could beat every single one of them. Gender didn’t matter at all.

“Let me introduce the guys you’ll be working with,” Lucas mentioned, and a few men stopped what they were doing to look at Lucas and me. “Please, meet Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark,” Lucas introduced them to me, but they didn’t seem very happy to see me. If anything, they seemed a little bit hostile.

“Hi guys,” I said, smiling and waving at them, but their intimidating auras didn’t change. It was awful, and I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was going to work with them. They obviously didn’t like me and didn’t respect me as if worthy of the same position. And it was especially weird because I knew I was better than all of them combined.

Ignoring their angry glances, Lucas explained their roles in this division. Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle were in charge of tuning up the cars, making sure they’re up to the racing standards. Mark and Jaemin were stealing the cars and bringing them here, and Jeno and Jisung were racing. Later on, Lucas revealed I was assigned to both – car theft and racing, and of course, the boys had to voice their objection.

Apparently, they had never heard of multitasking.

According to them, it wasn’t fair for a rookie member to participate in the street races. This position had to be earned through hard work, and they just couldn’t comprehend how much effort I had put to prove my value to Taeyong.

Well… to be honest, I didn’t suspect any of the boys to ever personally talk to Taeyong. I highly doubted they had an idea of what I had to go through to get recruited. They probably had never heard of Yuta, let alone been to his area and stolen one of his vehicles.

“I hope we will work together just fine,” I declared, though deep inside, I knew it wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. I was sure the boys were to make my time there miserable.

And, oh boy, I was right…

***

Somehow, I managed to survive a week at my new workplace without quitting. At some point, I was really close to doing so, yet then I remembered what I had gone through to work here, and this thought alone kept me going. The boys were an enormous pain in the ass, but it would definitely take much more than juvenile bullying to make me leave.

I was a lot of things, but definitely, not a quitter.

Having acted tough the whole week, I needed something to help me chill, and the only person I thought of was my best friend – Doyoung. I was a gang member now, but I knew it wouldn’t matter to him – it wouldn’t have any impact on our friendship.

Within an hour, I was already at his car repair shop. Not bothering to announce my arrival, I strolled inside, looking for him. It was already weekend. All of his employees were recharging their batteries for the upcoming week, so the slim pair of legs under the Nissan Maxima must’ve been Doyoung’s.

Smirking, I slammed my hands against the hood, startling him in the process. Swiftly, Doyoung rolled out from under the car, staring at me angrily, as if refraining himself from murdering me with bare hands.

“Jesus Christ,” he yelled when he saw my face, apparently relieved it was me. “Ever since I helped you with that gig, I have terrible anxiety,” he confessed, and I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same, fearing that someone might want to get rid of me with violence.

“Good thing I stopped by,” I mused, excited to reveal my amazing plans. “I was wondering if you would like to go on vacation with me – my treat. We haven’t spent all the money Taeyong gave me that time, and he hasn’t mentioned anything if he wants the rest of it back, so I thought we could go to the beach. What do you think?”

“More like Mr. Bad Boy’s treat… It does sound tempting, though. Where is the catch?” Doyoung asked suspiciously, knowing me all too well. “Are you on another stupid assignment?”

“Well… not exactly,” I answered, looking away, nervously playing with my fingers. “They’ve accepted me as the newest addition to the family, though some of them gotta warm up to me yet,” I explained, shrugging at the thought of the relentless bullying. “But that’s not the point. Taeyong told me to get rid of the car, and I thought of kindly returning it to Yuta. It’s only logical I send him back the car plates, yet far from home because I don’t want anyone to trace it back to me.”

Judging by the look on Doyoung’s face, he wasn’t completely sold on this idea.

“It’s like killing two birds with one stone. We’ll go to the beach, post the plates to Yuta, and then enjoy the rest of the weekend, sipping drinks by the sea. It’s a two-minute risk-free adventure. What do you say? We both deserve some leisure…”

Staring straight ahead, Doyoung must’ve weighed all the pros and cons of my proposition. Ultimately he decided he deserves some alcohol drinks with cute little umbrellas in the glasses.

“What about the other car?” Doyoung asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“I’ll give it back as soon as we return.”

“Fine.”

“Great! Pack your suitcase, the plane takes off in four hours.”

As soon as we arrived, we made a short stop to mail the package to Yuta, praying for him not to trace it back to me. The parcel contained the Ferrari’s plates, a key to the storage room in Japan where Yuta’s vehicle had been kept, and a tiny piece of paper with a sorry written on it. Hopefully, once Yuta gets it back, he will forget about the car ever being stolen.

Later in the evening, we checked into the hotel I had booked, left the baggage, and hit the SPA. Having taken all available services, I was calm, I felt like a lotus flower. Doyoung, however, still was anxious and whiny.

“You need some vitamin D, my friend,” I told him, and he grimaced at me in disgust. “You know… there’s this man, his name is Jaehyun. He’s a guy from work, and I’m pretty sure he could help you let off some steam,” I offered, and Doyoung shook his head, sassily wrapping his lips around the straw, sipping on his third drink of the evening.

To be honest, I doubted Jaehyun swung for the same team, but both of them needed to get laid. Jaehyun because I was really close to start believing his gaze could be literally lethal, and Doyoung because he was so whiny and intractable to be around. I knew it wouldn’t ever work out, but I had to, at least, try.

“I appreciate the proposition, but I don’t hook up with gangsters,” Doyoung said, setting his drink on the counter. “You know what…” Doyoung started, and I rolled my eyes, knowing his further statement will be both funny and hurtful.

When tipsy, Doyoung would often state things harshly without even thinking about running around the bush. “Being your friend has become really stressful recently. It’s a matter of time until I go completely bold, and it will be exclusively your fault.”

“I know…” I agreed, sighing in helplessness. “I’ve been a terrible friend, I’m sorry,” I whispered, resting my head on Doyoung’s shoulder, reaching out to hold his hand. “I’ll never put you in danger again, I promise,” I added, acting way out of my character. Usually, I wasn’t this emotional, but I suspected it was coming from pretending to be badass all the time.

“OK, enough of the weeping, let’s buy some alcohol to go and go get drunk on the beach, waiting for the sunrise,” Doyoung pushed my off of his arm and jumped off the barstool.

“That’s the spirit!”

***

“Gather round people,” Lucas yelled as soon as he entered the car repair shop. As always, he looked like a complete snack, yet I chose not to comment on that. Though we barely spoke with one another, everybody knew how big his ego was, and I didn’t want to inflate it even more.

“What is it?” Haechan whined at Lucas, being annoyed by the interruption.

“The color festival,” Lucas revealed, and everybody grew silent at the mention of the event.

Though a regular person wouldn’t understand what’s that big of a deal, to a car racer, it was an event of the year. It’s an annual the most prestigious car race in the country – participation alone is an honor. It’s every racer’s dream to take part and win, earning a shit load of money and fame. The participation fee is 50 grand per head, after all. Every year the date is different, and only the best racers are talented enough to be a part of it. No wonder Taeyong’s gang will have its representative.

“It takes place this Friday, and Taeyong has already decided who’s gonna represent us this year,” Lucas announced, and the boys started to guess whether it would be Jisung or Jeno. If I had to nominate anyone, it would be Jeno – his drifting skills were no joke. “As I was saying, it’s Taeyong’s direct wish that our special snowflake represents us in the competition,” Lucas specified, and the boys looked at me the way Jaehyun did – with hatred and disgust.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I chuckled drily, but the boys didn’t change their attitudes.

No way! Taeyong couldn’t… he wouldn’t. Well... I expected him to respect me after what I had done, but this… it was too much. Some drivers worked their entire lives mastering their techniques to participate, and right now, I felt as if I had my chance served on a silver platter. The boys must’ve felt the same way.

I deserved to participate, but Jeno and Jisung did as well. I wouldn’t mind sitting this one out. Their bullying was giving me a headache as it was, another reason to pick on me was the last thing I needed at the moment.

“It can’t be,” Jaemin stated, too perplexed to voice a longer statement.

“Well… it must be, Taeyong’s orders,” Lucas added with a smirk on his sexy lips, ignoring all complaints. “Guys, behave, it’s not my decision to make. You can always try next year,” he tried to console the whining boys, but it didn’t seem to work. If anything, it only multiplied the anger they felt towards me.

“It’s impossible,” I muttered, but the boys didn’t pay any attention to what I was trying to say, “I’m pretty sure it’s not final. I’ll talk to him, I think I can change his mind,” I continued, but once again my words were muffled by the loud white noise of complaining.

“You can’t just call him,” Lucas remarked, trying to remind me of my position in the hierarchy. Now, when I was a valid member of the organization, I had to follow the rules, and Lucas was my superior to whom I was obligated to report everything back. Talking to Taeyong would be highly unprofessional; I had to stick to the code.

“Can you try to persuade him?” Jisung asked, full of hope.

Lucas laughed at Jisung’s question as if it was one of the funniest things he heard in years.

“To be honest, I don’t give a fuck who’s gonna ride this year,” Lucas started truthfully, and I gasped at the harshness of his words. He didn’t sugarcoat nor beat around the bush. “It’s Taeyong’s decision, and I am in no place to question his choice, so beat it.”

His words successfully shut everyone up; Lucas was mean and straight-forward, but it had to be done. Perhaps his leading skills were a little bit rough around the edges, but they managed to get the work done.

“You,” Lucas exclaimed, looking at me. “Meet me here before the race; we’ll pick up the car,” he added, turning around, leaving me alone with the boys, so they could take out all frustrations on me.

“Fantastic.”

***

As expected, the boys, Jeno and Jisung in particular, were giving me hell. It was obvious they were unhappy with Taeyong’s decision, yet I shouldn’t be the receiving end of their relentless bullying. If I could, I’d pay Taeyong a visit and persuade him to change his mind, but just like Lucas said, I was on the very bottom of the gang hierarchy.

At this point, I’d call it quits. Unfortunately, I was too far in the game to bow out. Right now, I could only endure their harassment in hopes of quickly getting promoted, leaving them far behind. It wouldn’t be the most challenging thing I had done for the gang’s sake.

It was a Thursday night. Within 24 hours, I would compete in the most infamous race of the year, and I was beyond mortified. I had drunk half a dozen mugs of double lemon balm, yet the stress was still eating me from the inside out.

It was oddly quiet. Usually, at this time of night, something was going on, but tonight, it was silent. Without any white noise, one could hear a pin drop.

Everything suggested I was alone in the car repair shop. Having slammed down the hood, I wiped my hands in the cloth and looked around. Where was everybody? Did they forget to add me to their group chat? Did they go out for a drink without telling me?

I strolled through their stations, yet I didn’t find anybody. They really left me behind. That wasn’t cool. We weren’t best friends, but I deserved to know if there was a staff outing. Maybe this time around, I’d pass, given the plans I had for tomorrow, but any other time, I’d be down to have a beer with them.

Perhaps, they would warm up to me if we could spend some quality time together.

Once again, I looked around the space and decided to call it a day. There was nothing urgent that I had to finish, so I closed up. I really wanted to come back home, relax, and psych myself up for the upcoming race.

Yawning, I slowly made my way to my car, which was parked two blocks away from the car repair shop. Lucas had suggested it was for the best if the boys didn’t see my vehicle, since it would definitely become another reason to pick on me. Though I didn’t care what they thought of me, I ultimately decided to follow Lucas’ advice. He was my superior for a reason.

The narrow street was barely lit, yet I made my way through it with ease. I had the route memorized by heart, even though I wasn’t completely familiar with this city district.

Once the car conjured in my line of vision, I reached into my backpack, fishing for the keys.

Unfortunately, before I managed to find them, somebody grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me onto the ground. Stupefied, I looked up and saw half a dozen of persons, each of whom clad in a black hoodie and a face mask.

I was being mugged in a dark alley.

The survival instincts kicked in. The adrenaline rush hit me in a matter of seconds. Just like mothers who can lift cars to save their children, I was in a combat mode, ready to fight off all of them. I was outnumbered, but when driven on hormones, I thought I stood a chance to defend myself and kick their asses.

Quickly, I got back on my feet and took a few steps to the back to distance myself from the attackers and strategize my next move. My first idea was to run away, but that wasn’t going to work out. Two men with crowbars crept out of the shadows, depriving me of the only escape route I could think of.

“OK, think,” I whispered under my breath. There were seven of them, two of whom had crowbars, while one of them pulled out a knife. Seven against one, it didn’t sound fair. Back in the day, I had taken some self-defense lessons, but it was a long time ago. If I had some skills unconsciously memorized, they would surely be rusty.

Perhaps, I could bullshit my way out of it.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, but none of the men even flinched. They were frozen in their spots, probably waiting for the best moment to attack. “I don’t have any money on me, but I can give you my wheels,” I proposed, but once again, I didn’t get any reaction. “It’s a measly car, but I got it checked by a mechanic a few days ago. It’s as good as new.”

It was like talking to a wall. I could run my mouth, yet I would never receive any reply.

Plan A didn’t work out.

They weren’t cooperative enough for me to implement plan B.

I had no choice but to go with plan C, which consisted of fighting back, hoping they wouldn’t beat me to death. It wasn’t the most optimistic scenario, but it’s what my mind came up with after doing the math. It wasn’t a fair fight, what were the odds of me winning?

Close to zero.

When I was about to pick which guy I should attack first, the one in front of me made a cutting throat gesture. It did freak me out, but on cue, I ran up to the one with the crowbar and kicked him in the nuts before he managed to smack me with the metal. Instantly, he crumbled down on his knees, dropping the weapon on the ground.

It was my opportunity to try to even the chances.

Everything happened so fast. One second I was wiggling my body from side to side in an attempt to dodge the attack, while a moment later, I was swinging the crowbar like a baseball bat. In all honesty, I wasn’t that bad, I managed to omit most of their punches.

Unfortunately, there were too many of them. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t win. The least I could do was to try to minimize the damage.

Though I could feel a couple of bruises on my thighs forming up and my blood oozing from my shoulder, I gathered enough strength to swing the crowbar at the man, hitting him straight on the neck, knocking him out. As soon as the man’s head collided with the ground, everybody stopped in their tracks, trying to register what just happened.

They couldn’t believe that a woman successfully fought back. It was a small victory, though. Six more angry men wanted to mug me. Or rape me. Or worse.

“You bitch,” one of them yelled, going towards me with a knife as if he wanted to gut me.

I saw everything in slow motion. He ran to me, screaming, and I tightened my grip on the crowbar, getting ready to knock him unconscious, too.

Before he managed to get close enough for me to hit him, we all got blinded by the lights. There was another car in the alley, scaring the men away. In an instant, they picked up their stunned friend and ran away, disappearing in the distance.

My vision couldn’t accommodate this amount of light, so I couldn’t precisely see my savior. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the person behind the wheel, but the vehicle looked like a Ford. Too bad it drove off before I could have a better look.

Worrying the thugs might return, I limped to my car and locked myself in. My pulse was slowly getting back to normal, and the adrenaline was wearing off, making me feel the pain. Each bruise and cut was hurting me, but I inhaled, flooring the accelerator.

***

When I woke up around noon, I was sore all over. Though I had taken some painkillers and put on ointment on the fragile skin, I still felt like shit. I wasn’t the best at treating wounds, and I discovered this fact about myself in the worst timing ever.

How was I supposed to win the most meaningful race of the year when I felt excruciating pain when I had to stretch my arm? How was I supposed to operate the gearbox in this state?

By the time I had to leave my apartment, I felt only slightly better. High on meds, I drove carefully to the car repair shop, expecting Lucas to already be there. It was typical Lucas – giving vague instructions, yet at the same time, demanding precision, or in this case, punctuality.

Gingerly, I parked the vehicle outside the garage, noticing Lucas leaned against the wall, smoking what I hope was just a cigarette. Putting a smile on my face, I undid the seatbelt and exited the car, waving at my superior.

“What the hell are you wearing? Are you going to a race or Lazytown?” Lucas yelled, amused by my outfit. I could bet it wasn’t a typical outfit for street-racing.

Tonight, I chose to wear a pastel pink wig that reached down to my shoulders, a mini dress in the same shade of pink, and a pair of white combat shoes. I had my reasons to wear this type of clothing, though.

First of all – diversion; I hoped the other contestants would underestimate me upon seeing my eccentric outfit. Looks might be deceiving, and at this point, I couldn’t wait to bask in the glory of their judging stares. In this outfit, no one would think of me as a threat.

Second of all – bruises; no one paid them any attention because all the curious gazes were focused on extravagant clothes. Moreover, I could apply another layer of ointment if needed because the skimpy outfit allowed me easy access to my bare skin.

Third of all – Taeyong; pink was his favorite color and it matched his current hairstyle. It was a bold statement to demonstrate whose gang I was representing in the race.

“The outfit is going to serve its purpose, so let me live,” I murmured, not in the mood for friendly banter. Lucas was ridiculously hot, and I respected him, but right now, I didn’t feel like joking around. “What car do you have for me?”

Lucas pulled the sliding doors to the side, letting me in, following right behind me. Though I tried to control my walk, Lucas quickly caught on.

“What’s happened? Why are you walking like that?” Lucas asked in concern, and I told him everything about the men, their attempt to mug me, and the savior. I didn’t even fail to mention how I knocked one of the guys out with a powerful hit in the neck. “I don’t really think it was some random dudes,” he concluded, taking a closer look at my bruises and cuts.

“Huh?” I mused in confusion.

“I think someone wanted to make sure you’re not participating in the race,” Lucas stated. I creased my eyebrows, unable to make sense out of his suspicion. It was ridiculous. Though I knew how to race, my name wasn’t widely known in the illegal underground racing circle. “It can’t be a coincidence you’re getting attacked one night before the event.”

Well… Lucas had a point.

“Can you race?” Lucas inquired, his voice coated in worry.

I did not expect that, but it felt nice. Lucas, being my superior, looked after me, and it was the first time I felt like a legitimate member of the gang.

“I’ve taken a lot of pills, I can pull through,” I stated, smiling half-heartedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, though I could already feel the medication wear off. This insignificant setback wasn’t going to stop me. I had something to prove.

“Alright then,” Lucas said, following me to the back. “Taeyong has personally chosen these cars. You can pick any of them,” he added, and I looked at the beautiful machines in amazement. “Oh, before I forget, he also said you get to keep it if you win.”

“For real?” I asked, and Lucas nodded, smiling at my reaction. “Sweet.”

Now, I really had to win.

Taeyong had selected three vehicles for me to use: BMW M2, Toyota Supra, and Porsche 718 Cayman. The three of them were white and shiny, and it was a real dilemma.

“Tough choice,” I whispered, struggling to make the ultimate decision. Each vehicle had incredible features, and it was impossible to pick the best one. It felt like having a birthday on the same day as Christmas.

“Be quick, we’ve got to go,” Lucas urged me, tapping his foot against the concrete floor impatiently. “Make up your mind, woman.”

“OK, fine, fine, let’s go with Toyota,” I answered, and Lucas put his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fished out three sets of keys, and threw one for me to catch.

“Let’s go, then,” he added, quickly making his way to the passenger seat.

“How does it feel like to win such a race?” I inquired, breaking the silence inside the car. I was speeding to the abandoned airport, while Lucas was texting with somebody, completely ignoring me. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bond with him, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. Three years ago, being the youngest participant, Lucas had won the race, and I really wanted to know how it felt to make history.

Who knew? Maybe I’d be the first woman to win this race this year.

“Fine, I guess,” Lucas answered dismissively, not wanting to engage in the conversation.

“Oh,” I sighed, deciding not to pry further. We would have other opportunities to talk about it.

Once we arrived, Lucas told me to park the vehicle on the start line. The race would start in an hour, and until then, I had to mingle with other drivers and make my presence known. It was time for the rich men to make their bets.

“Hmm… that’s strange,” Lucas commented when I turned off the engine. “Taeyong’s here.”

“Is that strange?”

“He hasn’t attended such an event ever since he had won it five years ago,” Lucas explained, and I nodded my head, registering the new information. When Lucas put it like that, it really seemed out of character. “Interesting,” he added, deep in thought.

When Lucas got out of the car, I searched for Taeyong in the crowd. Thankfully, it wasn’t that difficult. This time around, Taeyong was wearing a green tracksuit set, thick-rimmed black Fendi sunglasses, and a pair of simple white sneakers. With his pink-ish hair and a custom-made Dior purse loosely hanging off his shoulder, he did not fit in this picture packed with gangers. Taeyong looked like a stray 4-year-old who got lost in a dangerous alley.

Following Lucas’ example, I exited the vehicle, and leaned against the hood, posing as a confident yet quirky driver. Though I expected everyone to underestimate my skills, deep inside, I wished to be recognized as a serious competition.

Looking around, I stared at Taeyong and deliberately ignored Jaehyun’s death glares. Even from afar, I could sense he hated my guts. I suspected I was the reason why Taeyong was here right now, and Jaehyun was unmistakably displeased by it.

With my eyes locked on Taeyong, I noticed Lucas joined him and whispered something into his ear. Whatever Lucas had told him, it made Taeyong visibly angry.

“Attention racers,” a female voice spoke through the speakers, obtaining everyone’s attention. “The race shall begin in thirty minutes. We ask all racers to pick up the GPS device box at the judge’s lounge. Thank you for your attention and good luck.”

Every participant had to install the device in one’s car. Once set in the vehicle, the racer could see this year’s route and all checkpoints. The fastest one to clear all the checkpoints and come back to the airport would win the competition.

Following all the instructions, I got ready for the race. In a few minutes, twelve cars would leave the airport in an attempt to chase their dreams of fame and success.

I was sitting comfortably in my seat, and though on the outside, I seemed calm, the courtesy of painkillers, I was freaking out internally. I didn’t even notice someone knock on the window, making me jump in shock.

“Jesus Christ, Lucas, you scared the shit out of me,” I cursed, rolling down the window.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he added, smiling genuinely. “I spoke with Taeyong, and he would like to talk to you after the race in his mansion.”

“Oh.”

And with that, Lucas walked away, letting me relax some more before the race. I just had enough time to turn on my playlist, which consisted of Britney Spears’ biggest hits. It always helped me to uplift my mood, and I really needed that.

“Three,” the woman counted out loud, and all participants turned on their engines.

“Two.”

“One.”

At once, all the cars surged forward, and people cheered enthusiastically, not even muffling the loud engine roars.

The route had seven checkpoints in total, and since the race was called the color festival, each stop was named after the rainbow color. There was no specified order in which the contestants ought to clear them, yet most of them chose to drive east, toward the indigo checkpoint.

I, on the other hand, decided to head west. The more drivers in one area, the more chances of dirty tricks, and I didn’t want to end up getting pushed out of the route into the gutter.

Only four racers mirrored my actions, and out of the five of us, I was leading. With ease, I cleared the green checkpoint, but one Britney song later, the driver of the red 2020 Lexus SC caught up to me, driving straight into my back left lights, making me lose control of the vehicle for a second. Thankfully, I managed to get a hold of the situation before I drove into the dangerous turn.

This bastard scratched my car and cleared the yellow checkpoint before me.

I couldn’t let him get away with it.

Flooring the accelerator, I quickly found myself on the right side of the Lexus, staring at the driver. I recognized him in an instant. It was Felix, and he was infamous for dangerous driving. It didn’t matter how many drivers he had to send to the hospital to win the race.

Perhaps, it would be reasonable to let him be, but I was high on meds, and the logical solution fled my mind before I managed to memorize it. The only sensible reaction I could muster in the heat of the moment was hitting him before he hit me again.

Sticking my tongue out for Felix to see, I abruptly turned to the right, pushing him out of the road. Unfortunately, I didn’t hit him hard enough. Before I drove into another sharp turn, I saw him in the rearview mirror. He was back on the lane, trying to catch up with the rest of the participants.

“Too high, can’t come down, losing my mind, spinning ‘round and round, do you feel me now?” I sang along with Britney, driving through the blue checkpoint.

I was almost halfway through the race, and it was about the time when I ran out of luck. I could hear a loud siren ringing in the distance, followed by red and blue lights. It couldn’t be a good sign. Competing against lunatics was challenging, yet on top of that, I had to lose the police.

My first thought was to let the other drivers catch up to me, and then hope the police would chase them, but I quickly realized it was a dumb idea. The racers would out-speed the police cruisers anyway; it was stupid to purposefully slow down.

The next checkpoint was near, and it was my priority. I’d deal with the police by the end of the race. Of course, only if the police cruisers could handle such speed. It was doubtful, but I chose not to underestimate them.

“Fuck, it can’t be,” I cursed when I noticed the red Lexus again. “He is stubborn,” I added, once again flooring the accelerator, trying to keep as much distance from Felix as possible. This car would be mine if I won, and I didn’t want any more damage.

Then, a few seconds later, another car appeared a couple of hundred meters behind me.

Too bad the police were too incompetent to catch them. The sirens were still ringing in the distance, so it only meant they didn’t give up yet. I didn’t think they stood a chance against any of the sports cars in the race, but it was admirable that they still tried.

The red checkpoint was a couple meters ahead, and I reasoned I needed to step up my game. In order to win, I had to think out of the box. I had to do something they wouldn’t dare. I couldn’t play it safe if I really wanted to win.

Having cleared the red checkpoint, I made a U-turn without slowing down. If it wasn’t for the breaks, the force would pull me out of the lane, sending me flying off the cliff. Felix and the other guy were visibly confused when I started driving right at them.

Going over 180 km/h, I passed them and the police cruiser before I made an abrupt turn, driving through run-down, abandoned properties. Very few people knew this short-cut, and I hoped it would give me the advantage I desperately needed.

With no problem, I cleared the orange checkpoint.

Only two more to go, I told myself, trying to uplift my mood.

The violet checkpoint resembled a war zone. Three cars were sitting on the side of the road, all scratched and damaged. Compared to this psycho who had done it, Felix was a harmless kitten. Thankfully, he hadn’t chosen to follow the same path as me. It made me sick to think I could be inside of one of these wrecked cars.

Or it was the meds overload in my system.

I couldn’t be sure.

Having passed the final checkpoint, I noticed a sports car. It was heading the same direction, so I concluded it was one of my rivals. The neon green Porsche Boxter was behind me, but it was catching up incredibly fast.

I had to get my shit together, or I was going to lose.

I could see the finishing line in the distance. Unfortunately, the green Porsche was right there, on my left side. Neither of us wanted to lose, and almost at the same time, we turned, smashing against each other. Sparks were flying everywhere, the sound of scratching metal was ringing loudly, yet no one dared to let go.

If I didn’t push him out of my way, we would tie, and this result was unacceptable. With my foot on the accelerator, I turned the steering wheel to the right as hard as I could. The vehicle barely moved to the side, yet it was still making progress.

Maybe it was pure luck, but the Porsche ran over something on the road, and its driver lost control of the car. It was my time to shine, so once again I turned to the right. The vehicles made a 90-degree turn, which resulted in me being the first one to cross the finishing line.

Oh my god, I won.

These guys could suck it because I beat them!

When I got out of the car, Taeyong and Jaehyun were gone. Lucas was the only familiar face in the crowd, and he actually ran up to me to congratulate me. “You won,” Lucas said, beaming. His smile quickly faded away upon seeing how wrecked the car was. “It was a new car,” he cried, calculating the damage.

“It’s still new,” I remarked, but Lucas didn’t find it amusing. Well… I could relate. After all, it was my car. I knew the second the painkillers wear off, I was going to in pain because of what I did to the vehicle. Hopefully, Doyoung would help me get it fixed.

A lady in a deep-cut bikini and sun-kissed tan walked up to me to hand me a bag of cash and a bottle of champagne.

“Everybody, make some noise for this year’s winner,” she screamed into the microphone, making the crowd go crazy.

I was smiling like a lunatic. People were cheering, and it was all for me.

Though I was craving champagne, I knew it wasn’t the best idea to drink it. The pills mixed with alcohol would kill me, so I opted for an alternative celebration. Swinging my arm, I threw the bottle at the car, smashing it against the scratched doors.

“Christening the car seemed appropriate,” I commented when I saw Lucas trying to process what I just did. “At this point, one more tear doesn’t make a difference.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lucas said lifelessly, staring with concern at the vehicle. “You better go. Don’t keep Taeyong waiting. He’s not a patient person.”

***

Having parked in front of Taeyong’s big ass mansion, I made my way to the main entrance and rang the bell. The doors opened a few seconds later, and Jaehyun looked at me from head to toe, stepping to the side, letting me in.

It was my first time in Taeyong’s palace, and the interior was breathtaking. Everything looked expensive, and everyone must’ve felt the wow effect during their first visit. Though I knew he had a shit load of money, witnessing his wealth first hand was an unforgettable experience.

“Stay here, I’ll get Taeyong,” Jaehyun ordered, and I smiled sheepishly, not wanting to mess with someone who could easily murder me. “Don’t touch anything,” Jaehyun added as he turned around, catching me red-handed on trying to brush my fingers against the sculpture, which was set on a coffee table.

Two minutes later, Taeyong joined me in the spacious living room.

“Lucas told me you won,” he spoke as he plopped down onto a leather couch, putting his hands into the pocket of his disgusting green tracksuit. “Good job.”

“Is that why you wanted to see me? To congratulate me?” I asked out loud, wanting to smack myself the moment the words left my mouth. Of course, Taeyong didn’t want to congratulate me; he had invited me to his mansion before the race even began.

“No,” he replied shortly, and I smiled sheepishly, trying to forget this incident. “You know what I will never tolerate?” Taeyong asked, and I sighed in thought.

“I don’t know… Hmm… it’s a wild guess, but is it Hawaiian pizza?”

“No,” Taeyong denied, smirking at my random guess. “I will never tolerate treason, doll.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to figure out what he meant. I hadn’t done anything to betray him, yet he still somehow found something to punish me for. No way, it wasn’t possible. Had he figured out how I really had stolen Yuta’s car?

Fuck.

“Come on, doll. Let me show you,” Taeyong whispered, standing up. With his eyes on me, he smiled and stretched his hand. Anxiously, I let him hold his palm around mine as he led me to the basement.

It wasn’t a good omen.

Despite all of my achievements, Taeyong was going to kill me.

“The pink really suits you,” Taeyong spoke out of the blue when we slowly made our way downstairs. “I really like this hair on you,” he added, playing with the ends of my wig.

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d like it,” I answered, trying not to show how intimidated I was.

“Oh, I do, doll,” he smirked, pushing a pair of big pine doors open, stepping to the side, letting me in first.

Inside the room were seven men tied to the chairs with a piece of cloth wrapped around their eyes. Since there was only one light bulb, it took me a while to recognize them.

They were my colleagues from the garage. What the hell were they doing here? Why had Taeyong imprisoned them? What had they done? It was them who had betrayed Taeyong? No, it didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t have invited me if it was about them.

“I don’t understand…” I commented, my eyes focused on the tied men in front of me. The moment when I looked at Jisung, I saw a wound on his neck.

Then it hit me.

It was them.

They had tried to kill me last night.

“As I said, I cannot tolerate treason,” Taeyong voiced as he began to rip the makeshift blindfolds off their faces. “Working against the gang is unacceptable, and you dared to hurt one of your own,” he spoke, and I trembled, afraid to witness what’s going to happen next. “Who came up with this stupid plan?”

Silence.

“Alright then,” Taeyong concluded through gritted teeth. It was the first time I saw him this angry, and I was scared. I’d shit my pants if I were the reason for his wrath. “Come here, doll,” he ordered, wanting me to join him. “Pick your weapon,” he told me, and I looked at him in confusion. What did I need a weapon for?

I looked to the right and saw pegboard tool storage on the wall. It was an impressive collection of torture weapons, and Taeyong wanted me to use them on the traitors. It was wrong on so many levels, and I really didn’t want to do it, but the perspective of wronging Taeyong seemed even worse. I would rather hurt them than let Taeyong hurt me.

“We don’t have a whole night, doll,” Taeyong urged me, and I grabbed the first thing which was in my arms’ reach. It happened to be a hammer. “Excellent choice; who should we punish first?” Taeyong asked, resting his arm over my shoulder, smiling like a maniac. Without any doubt, it was to bring him a lot of pleasure.

“I don’t know…”

“Alright, then,” Taeyong smiled in amusement before he started to sing the eeny, meeny, miny, moe counting rhyme to select the first victim. At first, I didn’t look, but once Taeyong stopped singing, I opened my eyes to see that his finger was pointing at Haechan.

“Do what you gotta do, doll,” Taeyong ordered happily, leaning against the wall, making sure he had the best view at the scene unfolding in front of him.

I wanted to cry, but I tried my best not to. As a part of a gang, it was inappropriate to show vulnerability. I didn’t want Taeyong to revoke my membership, especially when the only way to leave the gang was through excruciating death.

“Where should I start?” I asked myself under my breath, having no idea how torturing worked. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way of inflicting the least amount of pain, while maintaining the expected level of Taeyong’s satisfaction.

Having closed my eyes, I swung my arm, hitting Haechan’s palm with the hammer, making him groan in pain. “You bitch,” he cursed, and I repeated the blow a couple of times until his hand looked like a smashed pomegranate.

Haechan was yelling in pain, Taeyong was chuckling in amusement, and I tried my best to refrain myself from crying. Though I didn’t particularly like Haechan, and he had been a real pain in the ass with the bullying, he didn’t deserve such punishment. How was he supposed to work at the garage without his dominant hand? His career was basically over. It was a dick move to attack me, and though I was awfully petty, the punishment was too severe.

“Who came up with this stupid plan?” Taeyong questioned again, yet none of the boys dared to speak. Not even Haechan, who was in a tremendous amount of pain. “Here, hold this,” he added, handing me a baseball bat, “I got bored of the hammer.”

Obediently, I grabbed the baseball bat and hit Haechan in the stomach until he started coughing blood on my pink dress. “What the fuck?” I cursed, getting angry at the minor inconvenience.

“Stop it, you’ll kill him,” Jisung yelled, trying to shimmy himself out of the ties. “I did it. I told them to beat her up. She didn’t deserve to ride in this race,” he carried on, and Taeyong sighed, walking up to Jisung nonchalantly with his hands loosely tucked in the pockets.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” Taeyong asked as he bent a little and caressed Jisung’s chin. “I really appreciate your honesty,” he added before he pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.

It was hard to process, but he really did shoot Jisung.

“Good job, doll,” Taeyong congratulated me with a smile before he fired his gun once again, this time shooting through Haechan’s forehead. “What? He was useless without his hand anyway,” he commented upon seeing my shocked reaction.

“You’re not gonna kill them, are you?” I quietly asked as I leaned against Taeyong’s frame, clinging to his chest. None of them deserved to die, yet I hoped Taeyong would spare the remaining five.

“No, I think it was enough for them to learn their lesson,” Taeyong revealed, and I sighed in relief, glad the bloodshed was over. It was the first time I saw somebody get killed, and it was a morbid sight. I wouldn’t mentally handle the situation if he decided to murder them all.

“Can we go now? The blood makes me sick,” I confessed, and Taeyong once again wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulled me to his side, and led outside. Surprisingly, regardless of what I had seen a while ago, his hug felt genuine. “I have a question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“How did you know it was them?”

Taeyong smirked, “who do you think was in that car that scared them off?”

“You?” I asked, cocking up my eyebrow, trying to process the newfound information.

“No, what I would be doing there?” Taeyong denied, making me even more confused. “I told Jaehyun to pick you up and bring to my mansion. However, when he saw you were attacked, he drove off and hunted them down.”

“I guess I owe him big time.”

#taeyong smut #neosmutcollective #nct smut #nct angst #taeyong angst #taeyong #lee taeyong #mafia boss taeyong #nct scenario #taeyong scenario #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #taeyong fanfic #taeyong fanfiction

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the-last-cuddlebender · 3 years

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Since when young Tenzin is underloved? His dad loved him the best and treated him as the special one and his mom adores him and maybe his siblings would give him shit when they were kids because they were jealous but he had Lin as a good friend and then he cheated on her with a 20yrs younger woman. The guy gets as much loved as he deserves

Hi, anon! So there’s a few things to unpack here, so I’ll try to be as concise as I can. This is pretty much what I think Tenzin’s childhood was really like and why he should be appreciated just as much as Bumi and Kya. Also with Kataang TLOK parenting thrown in. I’m pretty tired and don’t wanna edit an essay, so I apologize if it rambles.

Also, I’m not gonna touch the whole Tenzin cheating point. I’m fairly certain that that’s just objectively wrong. Everything else I’m more than happy to discuss, though:D

To be clear, when I say I feel like Tenzin is under-loved, I mean by the fandom (and by TLOK, but to a smaller degree). Under-appreciated might be a better word. Or under-explored? Idk. I just know that Tenzin’s childhood—just his—doesn’t get the attention it deserves. Outside of Tenzin having some angsty one-on-one’s with Aang (which I love, make no mistake!), I don’t see a lot fleshing out his childhood. Bumi and Kya get a lot of it, though (or the kids as a whole, but nothing that’s just Tenzin’s).

I don’t subscribe to the idea that Aang treated Tenzin as “the special one.” Bumi and Kya being jealous—in the way that seems to be the majority consensus—of Tenzin when they were kids is a bit hard for me to imagine, too. I try to stick to canon as much as I can, but, for some things, I have to draw the line. There has to be evidence, not just anecdote, otherwise I hc it into oblivion. I’m not saying their feelings in TLOK aren’t valid. They absolutely are, and Aang would never want those feelings to be invalidated. Children just retain things differently. A traumatic accident could have no effect on them but falling in the shower and bumping their head might. Developing brains are weird.

I can see Kya and Bumi giving Tenzin some shit when they were kids (Tenzin does admit that Kya picked on him), but I highly doubt that was any more/less than normal sibling rivalry and Cain Instinct. Sure, Aang might have given Tenzin attention for being an airbender, but he gave Kya and Bumi attention for being a waterbender and a non-bender, too. To me, it’s like having siblings who play different sports. Just because dad went to every one of my sister’s soccer games doesn’t mean he didn’t attend every one of my basketball games. The hyperfixation on airbending in TLOK makes it sound like that was all Aang cared about, but even in ATLA we can see that that isn’t true. If it was, then he would have kicked out the mechanist from the Northern Air Temple.

To say that Aang loved Tenzin the best is to imply that he loved his other children poorly, which isn’t true in the slightest. I can entertain the argument that he spent more one-on-one time with Tenzin, but that could be attributed to different children with different personalities having different wants and different needs for validation from their parents. And I will gladly defend it, even though I personally hc otherwise.

It’s hard to talk about Tenzin without also talking about Aang and Katara, so bear with me here:

Tenzin and Kya:

Tenzin was the last airbender besides Aang. Kya was the last waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe besides Katara. To assume Aang treated Tenzin as the “special one” because he’s an airbender would, if using the same logic, mean assuming Katara treated Kya as the “special one” for being a waterbender.

I’ve never understood why The Southern Water Tribe being inherited by the Kataang kids isn’t as big of a deal as Air Nomad culture. Both of them were recovering cultures on the brink of extinction, so they both have a lot of pressure for the kids to live up to.

Plus, if Sokka had a right of passage for being a Water Tribe warrior, then who’s to say there wasn’t a right of passage for Kya, specifically, for being a waterbender? She would be the special one, there. And maybe Tenzin struggled with his two heritages because being an Air Nomad meant being vegetarian but being Water Tribe meant using dead fish to go penguinsledding?

Tenzin and Learning too soon:

Tenzin probably learned about his responsibility of carrying the legacy of the airbenders at a very, very young age. Aang and Katara probably tried their hardest to wait until he was older to tell him (a-la Gyatso wanting to wait until Aang was older for him to carry the burden of being the airbenders’—and the world’s—last hope, too), but it was unavoidable. It was a part of the world’s history, and the aftermath of the war wasn’t exactly something a kid could avoid. Plus, I’m sure Aang wanted to correct airbender history as it was taught in schools as soon as he got the opportunity after the war.

Tenzin just has the abstract “idea” of what his bending culture was like when it was alive and well. Aang has memories to draw upon from which to imagine the future that the airbenders needed to rebuild towards. Tenzin gets second-hand notes.

Tenzin also didn’t have a baseline by which to measure if he was a “good airbender.” He had only Aang to compare himself to. ONLY AANG. This is talked about in TLOK but only in regards to Aang being his dad, if I’m not mistaken. But Aang isn’t just Tenzin’s dad. Aang is his father, the Avatar, and the youngest airbender to get his master’s tattoos. That’s a LOT more to live up to than just being his kid. And it’s the only thing Tenzin has to compare himself to to measure whether or not he’s a good airbender. I’m shocked that his spiritual ineptitude isn’t more of a haunting issue for him, quite frankly.

Tenzin and Bullying:

Tenzin didn’t have any airbenders his age (anyone like him) growing up. Even Aang had a childhood with other airbenders. As a father, Aang was as playful as a kid, sure, but, to a child, it isn’t quite the same because they don’t share that special bond of growing together and having a shared upbringing.

Katara can especially empathize with this.

Airbending is the element of fun. It’s kindof hard to express/embrace that facet of the element if Tenzin is the only one his age who can wield it.

I can almost guarantee that Tenzin got voted out of playing with other kids at least a few times because he was the only airbender (and that would make teams unfair). He probably learned to play by himself. That would certainly make him serious. Toph would probably teach him how to entertain himself, too. And that might lead to Tenzin and Lin hanging out. Who knows?

I honestly think Tenzin was bullied quite a bit (and not by Kya and Bumi), and that the bullying attributed to his demeanor as he grew up. Him cowering from Kya or running from his siblings when they picked on him was an exasperation of what he was probably dealing with outside his home.

In the recent comic with Katara and the pirates, we see a Fire Nation soldier flaunt some pretty nasty ideas about the Air Nomads because of Sozin’s propaganda. I don’t think that 15 years (or however long Tenzin was born after the war) is going to reverse that. Tenzin was probably picked on for being an airbender in addition to being the Avatar’s kid.

If the rise of fashion post-war was as fast-growing as industry, I can imagine kid-Tenzin being made fun of for being bald (even though it was part of his religion/culture) and for dressing in robes when the world, especially Republic City, was beginning to adopt different clothes.

Tenzin is an incredibly tender soul around those he loves but also incredibly serious around his adversaries. He has a soft inside and an armored shell, and that thick skin is usually forged through unsavory interactions. And he definitely interacted with plenty of normal kids his age. Aang missed the chance after the ice, and Katara was the only one her age in her village besides (kindof) Sokka. There’s no way Aang and Katara would keep their kids cooped up and strictly homeschooled. At the very least, Toph would bust them out if they did.

Tenzin and Katara:

Now, I’m not saying that Tenzin blames Aang because he obviously doesn’t. But Aang has memories of what airbender life was like, and Tenzin has only dreams. Honestly, it’s like he’s caught in the situation Aang was in when he was a young Avatar. They both have to live up to something that was pretty much just a legend. How could Tenzin possibly be expected to compare himself to something like that and be peachy fine? Aang wasn’t. So maybe, just maybe, Aang and Katara decided to have Tenzin go on private trips with Aang so Tenzin could understand that part of himself that was so hard for him to get? Inner peace is pretty dang hard to think about with THAT much pressure.

And yes, it was Aang and Katara who decided on the trips. I will not for a second believe that 1.) Aang would make that kind of decision without her input or 2.) that Katara would let one of her kids get private time with dad that would even potentially give the illusion of favoritism.

Katara knew how important one-on-one time with a parent was to some kids. This is why she tells Sokka to go see Hakoda instead of her in Ba Sing Se. She saw not only how much Sokka wanted but how much he NEEDED to see their dad. Sokka and Tenzin were both caught in a “passing of the torch” scenario (tbh, the scene where Aang tells Tenzin that he’s proud of him in the Spirit World reminds me of when Hakoda tells Sokka that he’s proud of him during the invasion when he’s injured. In both instances, it kindof solidifies the official passing of the torch).

“You didn’t love her like I did”—Katara learned pretty quick in tsr about how incredibly toxic the assumption of loving or being loved more/less was. She would never under any circumstance agree to anything that would show favoritism to one of her children. Absolutely no way. Aang and Katara are a team, and to villainize one for favoritism is to villainize the other.

Tenzin and Yue:

Tenzin had a stressful upbringing. I would even make the argument that he and Yue had a similar time trying to conform to a responsibility that they were told/learned about at a too young age. Their mindsets are very similar—responsibility even at the sacrifice of their own wants and happiness and an overwhelming love for their father.

Tenzin: “I have a responsibility to Republic City.” Yue: “I have a duty to my Tribe.”

They were both determined to love and carry on the legacy of their father and their people, but they did it in their own way. They both struggled with their responsibilities from an extremely young age.

Finishing thoughts I guess:

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I can imagine a young Tenzin crying and trying to hide from the world that was shoving its weight onto his shoulders, and who, when Aang finds him hiding in the bison stables or somewhere similar, cringes away from Aang for a split second before recognizing his father and holding on so tight that it hurt. Aang tried his damnedest to teach Tenzin airbending and the responsibility of being the last airbender when Aang was gone, but even he knew that he couldn’t keep the weight of the world off of Tenzin forever. Aang never got that chance when he was told he was the Avatar. He heard the monks say that he was “the airbenders’ last hope” because storm clouds were gathering. Young Tenzin probably felt just as hopeless. The one-on-one trips he took with Aang were specifically to the places Aang had visited in S1 when he was still recovering from realizing that he was the last airbender. Maybe Aang took Tenzin with him one-on-one, just the two of them, to drive home the message that Tenzin was not the last airbender like Aang had been?

“I-I’m just one kid…I can’t. I…I-I’m just—”

“Shhh, shhh, shhh…I know, buddy. I know. But you’re my kid, too. You’re my entire world.”

“Everyone says I’m—”

“Don’t worry about them. They’re not here.”

“B-But—”

“But? What but? Are you hiding someone in your sleeping bag, Breeze-Butt?”

“N…No…”

“And do you see anyone else here?”

“…No.”

“That’s right. So don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me right now, okay? Just breathe. There you go. Just like I taught you—You’re doing so well, bud. Shhh…You’re okay. You’re not just one kid. You’re Tenzin. And you’re my son. You and your brother and sissy are my entire world. I love you so, so much...Oh, see? There’s that million-yuan smile!”

“…Thanks, Daddy. Love you.”

“Love you more. Do you want to try going in the water again? Or we can stay up here if you like. Whatever you want.”

“I wanna try again. But…But maybe just a small fish? I don’t wanna fall off again…I-I can’t do the air-chute yet…and the water hurt.”

“I’ll round up the smallest koi there is. I’ll sit right behind you, too. How’s that sound? I won’t let you fall.”

“Okay!”

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Maybe this has been said before idk. These are just my thoughts on Kataang parents and Tenzin. I retcon the entire Kataang family as it’s presented in TLOK, but this is how I imagine it going down in canon.

This isn’t an attack on any person or fandom btw! I just think Tenzin isn’t as appreciated as the airbean deserves😞 He’s been through so much😭

If there’s a secret stash of young Tenzin appreciation content somewhere, please share! I might be looking in the wrong places for Tenzin love, and I would love nothing more than to be wrong, honestly. So, please, if there’s a secret stash, yeet me that link!!

#tenzin #Avatar The Last Airbender #the legend of korra #atla #tlok #answered #aang #tenzin love #cloudbabies #kataang #katara #Kya II #Bumi II #the cuddles have spoken #im sorry for the late response anon I had a helluva day #tbh just my ramblings in a sorry excuse for an post I’m sorry okay😭 I tried to make it presentable at least lol #in this house we stan bestdad!Aang and bestmom!katara😤😤😤#thanks for the ask!#post

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