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dira333 · 1 year ago

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Passing Peonies - Post War Touya Todoroki - Part VI

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.

Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

Complete fic length: 30.600 words - Masterlist

Warnings: poor mental health and resentment against past actions is mentioned, burn scars etc. as well. There is angst but this is mostly soft Touya coming back to his family...

Part 6: (2,5k words)

You’re in the kitchen, washing your hands and looking at the garden through the window when the door opens.

“We’re home!” Natsuo calls out.

“In the kitchen,” Touya calls back, drying his hands and sending you a comforting smile.

“My siblings.”

You nod.

“Oh, you’re here too.” Natsuo’s surprise is palpable until he spots the tree through the kitchen window.

“Sick! Fuyumi! Shouto! We’ve got a new tree.”

“What do you mean, a new tree?” Fuyumi steps in next, throwing you a polite smile before she spots the tree as well, racing after Natsuo on the way out.

Shouto’s the last to come by, staying close to the door instead of entering the kitchen properly, nodding a greeting.

“I’ll be in my room.” He tells them quietly.

“Don’t you want to see the tree?” Touya asks, hoping that his brother will like it. His reaction is the most important to him, after his parents.

“I don’t remember the first tree.” Shouto reminds him. Again, it feels personal.

Your hand’s suddenly on his arm.

Your eyes are still on Shouto like they always are when he’s around. But you’re touching him, voice soft and careful when you speak.

“To him, it is just a tree.” You tell him. “If you want him to understand, you’ll have to explain it. You can’t expect him to read your mind.”

“What’s it to you?” Shouto asks from the door and you push him, gently, towards his baby brother.

When they come back inside, you’re gone.

He wishes you had stayed.

“Your siblings,” You ask, late Monday afternoon, “How old are they?”

He’d been telling you about their reactions, how Natsuo and Fuyumi had been awed by your Quirk, how Shouto had been cautious at first and lost in thought the rest of the night.

How his mother had cried and his father had hugged him, awkwardly but tight, when they realized what their tree stump had become.

“Fuyumi is one year younger than me. I’m 26 by the way. Natsuo is four years younger and Shouto is eight years younger. Why?”

“Just curious. Shouto-kun looks a lot older than he is but when he mentioned that he did not remember the tree I felt my math not adding up.”

“How old are you?” He asks something he’s been wondering about for longer than he wants to admit.

“Guess.” You’re grinning and he’s groaning.

“Don’t do that to me. I’m awful at that.”

You shrug. “You don’t have to guess. You can just keep not knowing.”

“Twenty.” He blurts out the first number that comes to his mind. You laugh.

“Twenty-two?”

“Sill wrong.”

“Twenty-four?”

“Nope.”

He glares at you as you giggle.

“Eighteen.”

You’re full-on laughing now, enjoying his miserable guessing skills a little too much, when the bell chimes and his father enters the shop.

You fall quiet like the laughter has been sucked out of you.

“I’m sorry.” Enji looks as awkward as Touya feels. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No worries.” Your smile is polite but distant. “I need to get more plant food for the roses. Call me if you need help.”

You move toward the back room but his father calls your name.

“No, please… Please stay. My wife sent me. We want to invite you over. For dinner. As a thank you for the tree.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“You did more than enough.”

Again it feels like you’re no longer talking about the tree.

“You don’t have to.” He tells you. “But it would be nice if you came.”

You look at him and Touya wonders, not for the first time, if you can read his mind.

Eventually, you nod. “But nothing fancy, please.”

Touya smiles. “Just grilled cheese.”

You smile too, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

He’d begged and bribed and read through any recipe he could find to make it happen only to be the one stationed in the kitchen while you’re sitting at the table.

He’s filling Gyoza with cheese and can barely see anything through the door, just Shouto’s stiff back and half of his mother’s head. At least Fuyumi is there with him, bribed with two new plants for her room and one of his jackets she’s taken a liking to.

A year and a half might have passed since he’d survived the war, but Dinners at Todorokis are never a lively thing.

Which is why it’s not surprising that all he can hear is small talk with long breaks in between.

“The bouquets this week were quite nice.” He hears his father say as he folds yet another Gyoza, regretting - again - that they came here right after work. “My secretary says it’s the nicest we’ve had so far and asked if he could take it home on Saturday to his wife.”

“That was one of Touya-kun’s creations.” You answer softly and his ears burn under your praise.

“Does he have talent?” That’s Shouto. His question, as usual, is a little bit too direct. It speaks for his family that no one chides him and instead, waits for your answer.

“He has been my most talented employee so far.” You admit freely. “He has a fantastic eye and a good ear for the plants.”

“Why, are they talking?” Natsuo asks and Touya presses his thumb so hard into the Gyoza that the dough breaks.

“They can if you’re listening.” You answer simply and he knows, he just knows, that his brother thinks you’re a nutjob.

“Is that what you’re doing?” His mother asks when he plates the last Gyoza, now fried a little crispy on the edges, and takes them out with Fuyumi following him with the other dishes.

“Food’s ready.” He calls out and places the dish in front of you before taking a seat across from you.

He watches you smile when you take the first bite, sharing a look with him that only he understands. Suddenly, having to stand in the kitchen for a last-minute dish after work is worth it if just for that look on your face.

“Touya has told us that your Quirk allows you to grow things.” His mother starts again when the food is devoured.

“Well, yes. That is what I do.”

“Can you grow fruit or just plants that will eventually produce fruit?” Shouto asks, following it up with an explanation. “Momo can materialize anything as long as she knows the molecular structure behind it.”

He points at his girlfriend who’d been mostly quiet up until now. She shows her bare arm and with a glowing light, a plump apple falls from her skin. She catches it in her hand and offers it to you.

“I cannot grow fruit. But I can grow a cut flower instead of the bush that will eventually produce said flower.” You stretch out your hand as if you’re trying to pluck a crumble from Touya’s hair and when you pull it back, he recognizes the closed bulb of a peony in your hand, the stem as long as your arm.

“But they have a mind of their own. Especially peonies don’t like to come out blooming.”

“We are so grateful that you helped grow back our tree. It feels like old wounds can heal now.”

Touya tenses, feeling your eyes on him. It’s not that he dislikes talking about the tree, but he feels like they’ve done enough talking about the tree by now. Sure, they cannot yet see what the spring will bring with the flowers and plants that he placed, but they could ask about it for a chance.

“Have you had the chance to listen to what the rest of the garden will bring in the spring?” You ask at that moment as if you’d read his mind yet again.

“I understand that there will be tulips, but please, Touya, tell us again.”

After dinner, you relocate to the living room, where Rei pulls out a picture album.

“I redid this one after I’ve found some pictures I’d forgotten about.” She explains and opens it on the first page to Touya, naked, in the arms of his father.

He’s going to die.

“Oh, you were so cute back then.” Fuyumi coos.

“You peed on me,” Enji remembers fondly. “And couldn’t stay still for a second.”

“Do you feel comfortable with me seeing these pictures?” You ask, quietly, but somehow loud enough for the room to fall quiet.

Touya stills, focusing on your eyes, on your face, on everything he’s learned to trust, and nods.

“Yeah. It’s embarrassing but I trust that you’ll not go around advertising with my baby pictures.”

You shrug with a smile. “I might, if it would sell.”

He laughs, surprised at the joke.

The first year of his life is documented to the extreme.

He’d been born prematurely and the pictures of himself, tubes sticking out of every opening, inside a glowing cube of some kind, still seem to hurt his parents.

Fuyumi is almost double his size at birth, looking like a model baby on her father's arm.

“Did not pee on me,” Enji recalls just as fondly. “But you did poop on me once.”

By the time Natsuo is born, Touya’s fire quirk had already manifested. But the pictures are not organized chronologically, it seems, because after Natsuo’s baby picture’s, there are picture’s of baby Shouto.

Now, years later, and with a different mindset, he can tell that his baby brother has the cutest baby face of all of them. Maybe it’s the eyes, or his hair, or something else entirely, but when he looks at those pictures now, he feels no hatred, but a warm kind of curiosity.

Natsuo flips the page and there he is, Touya, hands aflame, a proud look on both his and his father’s face who’s standing next to him, equally aflame.

He’d forgotten about that picture but that’s not what pulls his attention. Instead it’s your brows, pinched together like you’re holding a thought. And you keep holding it, through all the pictures you’re shown.

He drives you home.

It’s his father’s car and he’s only allowed to take it every other day, but it doesn’t matter right now, because he’s driving you home and your brows are still pinched and he doesn’t know what’s wrong.

“Ever since you saw that picture of me,” he starts when he parks in front of the shop, “You’ve looked deep in thought.”

“I just never realized that you used to have orange flames.” You tell him. “I knew you had a fire quirk but when I looked it up once it was mentioned that your flames were blue.”

“I don’t really have a fire quirk.” He realizes he’s babbling but he can’t seem to stop. “Or at least my body can’t handle the fire. I’m not allowed to use it anymore. Haven’t figured out the ice thing though, so I’m kinda quirkless at the moment.”

“When did your blue flames appear?” You ask, completely disregarding his comment, something you’ve never done before.

“When I was about nine, I had it when I burned down the-” He halts, realizing what he was about to say, and finishes his sentence anyway. “Tree. When I burned down the tree.”

You don’t flinch at his admission. You just stare out the window, still deep in thought.

“Do you have a problem with fire quirks?” He asks, more a guess, really.

“Quite the contrary, actually.”

“You love fire quirks?” If only his heart wouldn’t beat this quick.

“When I was thirteen years old, the building I was in burned down. I only survived because someone with a fire quirk saved me at the last minute.”

“The scaring on your neck.” He blurts out before he can stop himself but you nod calmly.

“Yes. I do not try to hide it but I am aware that my hair covers most of it.”

“Did you think that Shouto or my father could have saved you?”

“I don’t know.” You say. “I just remember a burning figure coming through the fire and the next thing I knew was me waking up in the hospital.”

“It could be someone else with a fire quirk.” He points out before realizing that there are no other documented cases with a fire quirk like theirs. His own grandmother had a lava quirk after all.

But why are you so tense about it?

“Are you disappointed that my father might have saved you?”

You sigh and your brows relax as if you’re letting go of what bothers you. He wishes he could do the same.

“I don’t know if this is a universal thing or if it’s just me, but when I was saved, I felt like I had to make it count. To live a life worth saving. But I also just wanted a quiet life and wondered if that would be okay for my savior. Never knowing who it was made it easier until I met your father and now I cannot stop thinking about how my life must look through his eyes.”

“It could be someone with a fire resistance quirk.” He offers. “Not my father. And it’s not me, I’ve never been a hero.”

“You are, but not in the way you think.”

“What do you mean?”

You turn away from him and for a moment he thinks you’re going to get out and leave him with his question, but then you turn back with a black box in your hands.

“I thought about giving you this at the dinner but it felt out of place. Congratulations, Touya. You made it through six months of rehabilitation.”

He stares at you, in the dim light of a sole street lamp, his heart beating and breaking and folding itself together.

There’s a softness in your eyes he wants to mean something else and yet, isn’t he also happy with what he has?

He pulls the lid of the box to reveal another, smaller, box.

“I was wondering what you’d like.” You tell him, your voice a quiet mumble. “I hope it’s okay.”

He pulls the lid of the box to reveal yet another, smaller box and now he’s grinning and you’re smiling.

He pulls the lid off again, to reveal yet another black box, but this one’s different, the edges curved. It’s a ring box and he feels foolish when he opens it to reveal one single silver ring.

Engraved into the exterior is a single peony, it’s bud not open yet. He turns the ring to feel the inner circle, knowing somehow that it will be engraved as well.

Dabi, he finds, Touya, next to it. And bloom.

“Can I touch you?” You ask and he nods, his voice stuck in his throat.

You pull him into a hug, his chin fitting right above your shoulder, your cheek warm against his neck.

He can feel your heartbeat against his, can feel your breath ghost over his shoulder.

“You are doing great, Touya-kun.” You tell him softly. “I am proud of you.”

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kendallroydefender · 11 months ago

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Somewhere only we know - Chapter 13 (Kendall Roy x Reader)

Masterlist

Series summary: You met Kendall when you were six years old. You have spent every summer together and now years later you and him are still just as close. This story follows Kendall and his best friend through their lives. Will they realize their feelings for each other before it’s too late?

Chapter summary: While the Roys are at their mothers wedding you get a phone call that is turning your world upside down. Following the events he makes a decision that could change his life for the better and yours too.

Authors Notes: We’re so so close to an confession!! I hope you like this chapter! Much love to everyone who’s still keeping up with the story! 🤍

Wordcount: 3.1K

You hear you’re phone ring. The caller ID says Connor wich makes you furrow your brows. Why would Connor call you from Caroline’s wedding? You accept the call, with a weird feeling spreading in your stomach, remembering last time you got a call from a Roy family member that wasn’t Kendall while they were out of the country.

”Hello?“ You ask slightly wary. He says your name in a somber tone before telling you ”Something happened.“ You take a deep breath the dark feeling starting to grow.

”It’s about Kendall. There was an accident and he, yeah, he almost drowned.“ He says and your breathing stops

”He fell off a pool float, he was drunk. We don’t know if it was an accident or..“ Tears gather in your eyes ”Is he..?“ You ask even if you’re afraid of the answer of how bad it is. If he died you don’t know how you would cope. ”He is stable, they’re keeping him til tomorrow.“ You close your eyes and exhale a shaky breath ”Can you send me the name of the hospital? I will be there as soon as possible.“ You ask him. ”Y/n you don’t have to-“

”No. Con, I need to.“

He mumbles an okay and take care, you tell him you’ll be in contact with him and if there’s any news about Kendall he should call or text you.

While organizing a jet you get a suitcase out and throw in anything you can catch. It feels like you’re almost in some kind of trance, you’re almost too calm. In less than 15 minutes you are out of your apartment and on the way to the airport.

You board your families jet, Connor has send you the name and address of the hospital Kendall was admitted to. You have also texted with Jess and Roman. You haven’t contacted Kendall himself, maybe you’re scared he will tell you not to come and because he was still not awake when Connor called you. You aren’t even sure if he knows that you’ve been told about what happened.

You know you should use the next hours to sleep but how are you supposed to when you don’t know what happened to your best friend, the man who you are in love with. You open your phone and go to the folder with all the pictures you have of him. There are funny ones of the two of you together and others where you attended galas and dinners together. You stop when you reach one where Kendall is sleeping. He looks so peaceful and carefree. You’ve taken it a year ago when he fell asleep on your couch while watching some movie. You wonder when it all went so wrong, you remember when he carried you all the way home on his back to your parents summer house after you cut your foot at the beach. Or when he rapped along to his new favorite song on your dorm bed. The way you two danced through the night in Shanghai’s clubs. All these memories rush through your head and you can’t stop yourself from crying.

You arrive at the hospital after an exhausting 10 hour flight and a taxi ride. You had slept for about an hour before waking again, too anxious to drift off again. You knew Kendall wasn’t doing well but you hadn’t thought it was this bad. You feel like you should have noticed how bad he was doing.

You ask to see Kendall but you really haven’t thought this through because you’re met with an ”I’m sorry signora, we can’t let unauthorized people to him. Only family.“ you nod, turning around contemplating what to do. Connor told you they weren’t going to the hospital but will see him after he’s released. You see Comfry on her phone. Jackpot.

You walk over to the blonde woman who smiles at you and gives a little wave. After she hangs up, she brings you to Kendall’s room. She stops outside to tell you about what happened, when and how he was found, that he’s mostly fine now but they kept him overnight to be sure.

You open the door to his room, he is resting on the bed, awake and looking out of the window. ”Kenny.“ you get out before tears come to your eyes. His head snaps towards you fast, he’s shocked to see you here. Who told you? Why did you come? It reminds him of the press conference where you appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He knows it was Roman who told you what was going on but still it feels like you always know when he needs you most by his side.

He says you name and you walk towards his bed, crushing him in a hug. He strokes your hair and after minutes you let him go. ”Sorry, sorry.“ you say wiping your tears. ”It’s okay, please don’t cry.“ he tells you cupping the side of your face. ”You shouldn’t have come, nothing happend. I’m fine, really.“ Kendall tells you to wich you shake your head. ”Kendall. No - of course.“ you tell him. Did he really thought you wouldn’t come after you heard what happened? ”Connor called me and I knew I had to get here. I just needed to see you.“

You don’t pry him about the situation knowing he will talk to you on his own terms. You just lay with him on the hospital bed. Pressing kisses onto his shaven head. ”My Dad- Uh, he won’t let me leave.“ Kendall says to you in a low distant sounding voice. ”What?“ you ask confused, since you’ve read the birthday card where he offered it. ”We had dinner yesterday. I wanted out but he- yeah, he said no.“ Kendall answers you and you feel like you swallowed a hot stone, you’re so mad at his father. Logan’s constant psychological abuse of his children. ”God. Kenny.“ is all you get out and just from that the man knows you’re mad. ”It’s okay.“ he assures you and you turn so you face him. ”No it’s really not. God i hate him so much.“ you can’t help yourself ”I’m so sorry Kendall. You don’t deserve being treated like that. You deserve so, so much better.“ he feels tears well up and he blinks fast, tries to swallow all these feelings again.

Instead he asks you if you’ll come with him to his mothers wedding and of course you say yes.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Comfry comes into the room a few hours later with one of the doctors, Kendall is being released. A car is already waiting outside.

You arrive at the house his family has rented. You catch Sophies eyes and give her a small wave and a smile. She smiles back, happy to see you. You eye Logan warily who sits next to the kids. Suddenly acting like a grandfather, you fight the urge to scoff. He looks at you but you avert your eyes quickly, turning toward the siblings who sit around a table playing monopoly. They make some jokes about Kendall’s accident slash attempt and you roll your eyes, wich Connor catches. But you don’t care, you’re here for Kendall. Connor sounded worried yesterday when he called you, you don’t understand how they can act like that now, not even a day later.

”Kids! Come on we’re leaving!“ Kendall shouts and you wrap your arm around Iverson. ”What are you doing here?“ Sophie asks with a mischievous grin. She’s not opposed to you and her father dating. She was old enough when her parents divorced to know it was better that way, she heard them fighting. Iverson took the break up harder and you can’t blame him. ”What? can’t I just go to the wedding of my best friend mother?“ you say to her jokingly.

”But you weren’t here yesterday?“ Iverson asks ”Y/n had a work thing she had to attend, that’s why she’s late.“ Kendall says quickly. He loves how well you get along with his kids, even if that means having Sophie asking him questions about you two later.

While Kendall is off to a meeting with his siblings, wich unbeknownst to you is an intervention, you and Comfry go to find you a dress to wear for the festivities. You have grown to like the woman even though your relationship with her is definitely not as deep as yours and Jess.

You buy a dress that fits you perfectly and is fitting for Carolines wedding.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You attend the wedding alongside Kendall. You give your congrats to Caroline and her soon to be husband, who’s name you already forgot. You’re sitting with Willa and Connor. Kendall wanted you to sit with him at the family table but you assured him you’re fine. He argued that you would be his plus one for this event but you declined. Your eyes find each other’s during the speeches multiple times, sending small smiles across the lawn.

When the eating part is over you and Kendall stay close to each other, holding hands the entire time, his arm around you. It just feels natural and you both just want to keep physical contact after everything that had happened who wouldn’t try to seek some comfort.

Maybe it’s the fact that he could have died but you just need him close to you, to feel that he’s alive. And he feels the same, he doesn’t want to get away from you. He doesn’t care about all the guest around, not really keen on striking up a conversation with anyone that isn’t his best friend.

You’re leaning into his shoulder while he smokes when Shiv and Roman come and ask to talk to him. He shrugs and tells them that he’s not interested but they are consistent and it seems like it’s urgent, so he relents and excuses himself from you for a moment. He kisses the side of your head goodbye and you hear Shiv ask ”So what? Are you together now?“ as they walk away.

The next time you’re hearing from Kendall is while you’re with Connor and he tells you about his upcoming campaign when you get an incoming call from Kendall. You excuse yourself for a moment and walk a bit away from the other guests before you answer the call. ”Y/n! We had to leave the party. We’re going to kill dad.“ he says and you furrow your brows ”Metaphorically speaking of course.“ he adds ”Wait- what? Who?“ you stammer, still confused on what is going on ”Me and the sibs.“ then he explains their plan before telling you, you can’t tell anyone about this but you wouldn’t anyway. Before hanging up he promises to call you as soon as he can and you promise him to stay with his kids until then. You stay at the ceremony, sitting with his children, you talk to Willa about her engagement and Connor reminisce about your childhood. You dance with Sophie and Iverson and briefly talk to Greg who tells you about his Comfry / Duchess dilemma and you laugh at his words. ”Nooo Greg, you can’t treat Comfry like that. She’s so nice to you“ you tell him honestly.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

”How did killing Logan went?“ you ask once Kendall comes back into the house he’s staying in. It’s late and Sophie and Iverson are already in bed. You had texted Rava earlier that you had taken the kids back to the house. You knew she was feeling better if you looked after them then when Logan did, after all he had hit iverson before. She had called to talk to the kids and you had spoken to her afterwards.

You’re sitting on the couch, skipping through the tv channels when he comes back. You glance at him as he steps into the living room and you can tell it didn’t went down smoothly. ”Tom fucked us.“ he says and your eyebrows shoot up „Are you serious?“ he sits down next to you, his head leaning back against the cushion, staring at the ceiling ”Yeah he told him about our plan.“ you would have not thought Tom would go like this against his wife. ”But the sibs and me, we’re gonna do our thing. Without dad.“ he tells you before saying ”I told them about uh, Shivs wedding.“ you know instantly what he’s referring to.

”It’s funny, Roman said the same thing you did.“ he says and you turn, so that you’re facing him ”It’s the truth Ken. It was an accident.“ you say and he looks at you, nodding a little, it’s really faint and you could have easily missed it.

”Are you hungry? The chefs already left but I got some leftovers in the fridge for you.“ he thinks then that he doesn’t deserve how much you care about him. You flew here as soon as you heard about what happened to him and now you make sure he eats. He loves you. More than a friend and he has known this for some months now. Your love is the purest most unconditional kind of love he has ever been given and he knows he needs you in his life, you make him a real person. You don’t see him as an extension of his Dad, or some famous douchebag, a Roy. You don’t see him as a killer. You see him. Kenny. Kendall. And he thinks he would like to come home to you every day. He wouldn’t dread his apartment anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that he could have died that day but he feels like he needs to get better and to confess his feelings to you finally. He can’t let this chance you two have go away again. Not if it could be everything he wanted for a long time.

"Thank you.“ he says then and you know that he’s not only talking about leftovers. "No need to, Kendall.“ you scratch his buzzed head. "I appreciate it, really. It uh it means a lot.“ he says and you answer him "Well you mean a lot to me.“ and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips. While you put the food into the microwave Kendall goes to say goodnight to his Kids. He eats on the couch next to you and after you watch some tv show you go to sleep. There are like thousand rooms in this house but it’s not a question that you are sharing a bed.

You’re laying on your side and Kendall rests on his back when he starts speaking

”I know things are difficult right now, uh with me and I know im putting a lot on you too.“ Kendall admits and you know this is hard for him. ”Its okay, Kendall. I know you’re going through some things at the moment and that’s not your fault.“ you tell him before adding

”And you don’t need to apologize, its beyond your control and of course im there for you. Like you’ve been with me when I was going through hard times.“

”Yeah but I feel like its my fault with the-“ he clears his throat ”With my relapse.“ He finally says and you swallow. Its progress that he can admit that he’s struggling again instead of telling you its fine.

”I feel like, I- I- am maybe at my breaking point.“

He turns on his side, facing you now.

”I think I need to, I need to get better. For my siblings. For you.“ you take his hand in yours ”For me, uh for me too.“ he says at last

”I think that’s a good plan, Ken.“

You whisper "I love you.“ as he drifts off to sleep and he lets himself feel a shimmer of hope that everything could get better.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You flip through the papers Jess had dropped off at Kendall’s earlier. They’re rehab facilities he could go to. Its a few days later and you’re glad he’s still planning to go.

”Do you already know wich one you’re going to?“ you ask

”I think the one in Denmark sounds good. It has an eight week programm.“ he answers and you flip to the clinic he meant.

Reading over the text it does sound nice and the pictures look good too.

”When will you go?“

”They have a spot in two days open.“ you nod

”Do you want me to come with you?“

”To Denmark? You don’t have to.“

You give him a smile ”Yeah, but that’s not what I’ve asked.“

He takes a breath looking at you sincerely

”Of course I would like you to come but I, uh, I can’t let you do that. You’ve already done so much for me.“

You shrug now

”When does the jet leave?“

••••••••••••••••••••••••

He takes his shirt you’ve worn the night before with him. It smells like you and he needs something that reminds him of you. He doesn’t tell you, but you’ve seen him put it in the suitcase. But you don’t care, you kept one of his too and there are still multiple ones around your apartment. And two months is a long time for you two to be apart.

”What happens to us if I go now?“ he asks when you’re in bed that night. His fingers drawing shapes onto your arm.

”We’ll have all the time in the world when you come back. But now you need to focus on yourself.“ you tell him cupping his face. It’s the truth but it’s also a promise. You are aware that whatever is going on between you isn’t purely platonic anymore and more than just a crush now. It’s seems like it’s always on the brink of spilling over. You hope that you can talk about it once he returns, but he needs to be clean for that so you can be sure it’s what he really wants.

”I’ll be right here.“ another promise, he won’t come back to find you in a relationship.

You’ve waited such a long time these few months won’t matter.

”I’ll be back soon.“ he says

”Take as much time as you need.“

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

There are a few photographers and you’re glad for the darkened windows of the car. You arrived In Denmark yesterday evening and spent last night in a shared hotel room.

His hand is still in yours. Since it’s a private clinic with high privacy values you’re being driven through big gates that close behind you. You give him a long hug

”I’m really proud of you.“

He holds you a little tighter.

”I love you.“ he answers

”I love you too, Kenny. So much.“

”Thank you. For, uh for everything.“

”Always.“

You sit for a few more minutes holding each other before he knows it’s time to leave. He releases his arms from around you

”Goodbye Kendall.“

”Goodbye Y/n.“ he tells you and you press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

#kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x you #kendall roy fic #kendall roy fluff

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thedeathlysallows · 1 year ago

Text

Anne

This is a dark!Caius Volturi fic and will contain the following: descriptions of murder, death, and suicidal ideations. Manipulation, coercion, religious trauma, witchcraft, sexism, sex, blood.

My warnings are not exhaustive. Proceed with caution.

Chapter One

“Anne,” the deep baritone of Father’s voice pulls me from my thoughts in an instant. His face, twisted with rage and disgust, is right next to my own as he grabs me by the elbow and hauls me from the tavern. The night is dark and the air is cold, filling my lungs with the crisp scent of Autumn.

I was so close.

So close to freedom.

So close to a life far from his reach.

Of course, I thought it would take him longer to figure out he played right into my hand. I thought I would have a few days head start before he came looking for me to drag me back to his miserable home. All so he would have his own maid or so he could sell me off to the highest bidder.

“We’re leaving,” he tells me.

I tilt my chin up and meet his gaze, the fire in his eyes threatening to spill over and consume my soul. He hates me. I know he does. He’s hated me since the moment I drew my first breath and Mother drew her last. In his mind I’m nothing more than the thing that killed his wife and he’s always hated me for it.

I straighten my shoulders. “I’m not going back home.”

He looks at me for a moment, the fire dimming before blazing even brighter. “No. You aren’t. Come along, Anne.”

“No.”

I can hear the autumn leaves crunching beneath heavy boots as two men appear at the edge of the dark woods, their figures looming and shrouded in the night. They move to my father’s side, ghostly and silent, and I can finally recognize them in the flickering light of Father’s torch.

William and Henry. Two boys the same age as me. Two boys whose fumbling attempts at seduction left me laughing in their faces. Two boys who swore revenge before Father had cast me out of his home.

William refuses to make eye contact with me, but Henry at the very least has the courtesy to nod ever so slightly, his short shearn hair and neatly trimmed beard giving him the appearance of someone far older.

“Best follow your father,” he says simply.

“And if I don’t?”

“You’ll be making this needlessly difficult.”

“And what is ‘this’?” The question comes out of my mouth unbidden. Deep down I know I needn’t ask at all. I know what this is. I know what’s about to happen to me. I’ve watched this same process from afar time and again.

I turn to Father. “You hate me so much you would actually do this? Me, your own flesh and blood?”

It isn’t Father who answers. William suddenly finds his voice, face flushed pink in anger. “Witch! You seduce men with your silver tongue before selling our souls to the devil!”

“I-”

My voice fails me. Almost two decades of being able to talk my way out of anything, and now my gift fails.

William points to me, turning to look at Henry and Father. “See? She does not deny it.”

I’ve never minded being called witch before. I’ve never minded when people would balk at the bright red of my hair, whispering to one another as I walked through town. I accepted being the thing they feared. None of it bothered me because I always knew there was no evidence to any of it. I never left any. I have always been a step ahead of everyone else.

I shake my head and square my shoulders. “I do not deny it because it is absolutely ridiculous!”

Father says nothing for a long moment. He observes me coolly, thoughtfully, before something finally clicks in his eyes. “Would you swear to it on your older brother’s life? Would you swear on Carlisle’s life that you are not in league with the same demons we hunt?”

And there it is. My loophole. I can promise I’m no friend to vampires without damning Carlisle’s soul. It might be too late for mine, but I can save his at the very least.

“I have nothing to do with vampires, Father. I swear on Carlisle’s life.

Father sighs heavily. “Vampires are not the only demons we kill.”

Henry and William seize me by my upper arms and drag me down the cobblestone road behind Father. We pass few people on our trek, and the ones we do meet quickly avert their gaze lest they be cursed by the witch. None of the three men stop until we come to the edge of a lake. The water ripples ever so slightly, as if someone got out in a rush, but it’s mostly disturbingly serene. No one is sure exactly how deep the lake goes, and the ones who do know will never be able to tell.

The three of them walk me to the end of a small wooden dock.

Father turns abruptly and glares down at me. “Anne Cullen, you have been tried and found guilty of witchcraft. What is your reply?”

I bare my teeth, trying to get out of Henry and William’s grip. “I should have killed you the second I had a chance!”

He bends down, face inches from my own. He reeks of must and self-righteousness. “And I should have smothered you the second you killed your mother.”

I’ve imagined my life ending many ways many times. Perhaps I would jump from the belfry of my father’s beloved church. Ironically, I have even dreamed of drowning myself in the same manner Father seems to be preparing. Tie heavy blocks to my ankles and fall back into the water. Or maybe I would happen to stumble across on of his precious vampires and they would do the honor. What if I begged them to do the honor? Would they. Would a monster like them even want a monster like me?

William is the one to tie the ropes around my ankle while Father and Henry observe. Father watches each motion of William’s hands, watches my reaction to the bite of the twine against my skin. I do not flinch. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing anything save for cold malice on my face. Henry refuses to meet my eyes.

“Any last words, witch?” William teases me, his blue eyes hard as steel.

I smile before spitting into his face. “I’ll save you a spot in Hell, William.”

He grips my shoulder so roughly I almost flinch. “You should have just let me fuck you like the whore you are. You’ll spread your legs for every man but me?”

“I would spread my legs for a woman before I let that tiny prick of yours anywhere near me.”

William grabs a fistful of my hair and shoves me forward, dangling me over the lake. “Ready to die so soon?”

“I would rather die free than ever be shackled to a man such as you. Mark my words, I will haunt all of you for the rest of your lives.”

Water rushes around me, cold and unforgiving. It’s dark and silent as I sink down to the bottom of the lake. If I look up I can make out the three of them leaving, certain I’m dead, or at least very well on the way. My lungs scream for air and I desperately flail around, trying my best to untie the rope around my ankles. Black spots crowd my vision as my head grows light and fuzzy.

I can’t feel the ropes anymore.

I can’t feel anything.

My eyes are heavy.

I want to close them.

So I do.

#caius volturi #caius volturi x oc #volturi fanfiction #caius volturi imagine

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number1mingyustan · 2 years ago

Text

Bittersweet (Chapter 3—Lesson 2) ||k.mgyu + j.ww

Genre: neighbors to lovers, strangers to lovers, angst, smut

Warnings: kissing, cursing, masturbation (f.), fingering (f.), mingyu is hard again, not proofread

Summary: Being close with Mingyu has its up and downs, but mostly its ups

Word Count: 3.8k (the chapters keep getting longer💀)

series masterlist

_______________________________________________

‘hey kid are you awake ?’

*no im still sleeping*

‘stop lying, i can see your light is on through your window’

*first of all why are you peeping through my window ?? second why is my light letting you know i'm awake and not the fact that i responded to your text ?*

‘.... anyways i'm taking you to school so be ready in a few’

*okay just text me when you're ready so i can walk over*

read

It had hardly been 10 minutes before you heard your doorbell ring. Unfortunately, your mother gets to the door before you can. Oh no.

“Mingyu!” she squeals excitedly. You know she’s smothering him with hugs and kisses right now.

You walk down the stairs slowly, eyeing the interaction between your mother and Mingyu.

“Hi Ms.Y/L/N,” Mingyu replies sweetly.

“Everything okay with your mom? She need something?” your mother asks.

“No, everything’s good. I’m just waiting for Y/n so I can take her to school,” he looks up. “Here she is now.”

Your mom turns around quickly. A bright smile is plastered on her face. “I didn’t know you two were friends again! Gosh it’s been so long since I’ve seen you two together like this!”

“Mom,” you whine. “We’re gonna be late. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh but it is! You remember how upset you were when-“

“Mom!” you cut her off. “We’re leaving now, I’ll see you later. Love you, bye.”

You practically push Mingyu out the door as he giggles.

"I thought I told you to text me so I could go to you," you complain.

"You did," Mingyu grins. "I just didn't listen.

You scoff, playfully pushing him. The two of you enter his car, starting the drive to school. The two of you listen to his music most of the way to school. It’s not until you’re nearing the school that he finally speaks up.

“You wanna come over after practice again? I got a lesson planned. My mom won’t be home and you’ll already be with me,” he offers.

“Yeah I’ll come over,” you tell him. “I have homework to do so it can't be too long.”

He nods in understandment, turning his head all the way to you. He takes notice of your attire.

“You’re not hot? It’s not really the weather for turtleneck sweaters is it?” he teases.

“Well if someone didn’t leave a bunch of hickeys all over me, I would be wearing something more weather-friendly,” you scoff.

“You wanted me to mark you up for Wonwoo,” he says.

“Exactly, for Wonwoo,” you smile to yourself. “At practice today he’ll see them. And hopefully this master plan of yours will work.”

The two of you pull up to the school. Mingyu parks his car in his usual spot in the senior parking lot.

“You brought a change of clothes?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No, I have a tank top under the sweater and athletic shorts under the skirt. I’m just gonna take them off.”

“You’re gonna play baseball in a tank top?” he asks.

“Is there a problem with that?” you quirk an eyebrow. “Scared you’ll pop another boner or something?”

“Damn Y/n,” he climbs out of the car. “You make me sound like some sort of pervert.”

You giggle, exiting the door. “You are,”

He locks his car with a beep. There’s a few people staring at you as they make their way toward the entrance of the building.

Some of them whisper amongst themselves while others gives you weird looks. You no longer feel comfortable. “I’m gonna go to class now."

You begin walking toward the building quickly.

“I’ll see you at 3!” he calls from the opposite direction.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The final bells rings and you’re beyond relieved. You’ve never been closely connected to what goes on in your school, but today you learned just how quickly word can spread.

All day, the kids in your classes were mumbling and whispering about you and Mingyu. If you walked into a classroom or bathroom, people’s attention would immediately turn to you. The murmurs would start and the girls would giggle.

You’re not stupid. You know exactly what it is that they’re saying about you. It was either that you were ‘sleeping with him’ or ‘tutoring him’, and people didn’t seem to like that either way.

How come it never crossed their minds that maybe you guys were just... friends? Maybe you two were just too different for people to ever understand.

What really surprises you is that when you go to leave the classroom, you're pulled back in by an arm as the rest of the class clears out.

“Hey girlie!” a familiar voice says.

You can pinpoint the voice anywhere, the girl talking about you in the bathroom. It didn’t take long for you to figure out who she was. Lee Sora was the captain of the dance team and the most popular girl in your grade, and probably the school too. She had dark hair, long lashes, and a body to die for. All the guys wanted her, regardless of if they were in your grade or even at your school.

She was everything you weren’t.

“I was just talking to Sohee,” she motions to the other girl in the classroom. You know Min Sohee, Sora’s best friend as the other voice in the bathroom that day.

You don’t like either of them.

“And we heard something about you and Mingyu,” Sora smiles at you. “We were just wondering if you and Mingyu were like a thing or something. It’s just not really natural to see you guys together, so I was curious.”

You don’t like being in this position. Trapped between two girls you strongly dislike, being asked questions about subject that doesn't concern them. You remember back to Mingyu’s words: “We don't tell them anything," he says as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "What you and I do in our free time is none of their business. If people wanna talk, let them talk. That kind of stuff shouldn't affect you."

“Um,” you shift uncomfortably. “He’s my neighbor, not that it’s really any of your business.”

You swear her eyes turn black for a second. “Well actually it is my business!” she fake laughs. “You probably don’t know this, but Mingyu and I hooked up at a party a little while ago and we’ve been sort of talking ever since. I would hate if something tried to stand int he way of that.”

Is she trying to intimidate you? You could care less about her and Mingyu. He’s not the one you want anyway.

You almost feel kind of bad for Mingyu in this moment. Quite frankly, Sora is kind of a bitch. You're unsure of how Mingyu could possibly deal with someone like her.

“That’s great,” you return the fake smile. “But I have to go meet up with him right now and I'm already late. Bye.”

What the hell just happened? Sora and Sohee talking to you? You dismissing them? You've never been that bold in your life. It feels kind of... nice.

You walk out the classroom, heading to the girl's locker room. You change out of your sweater and skirt, keeping the shorts and tank top you had on underneath.

You're in a hurry, knowing that Mingyu is waiting on you. You rush out of the locker room and into the hallway that leads toward the baseball field. However, you're moving a little too fast and your body meets someone's back with a soft thump. You let out a quiet 'oof' at the contact, stumbling back a little bit.

You regain your balance, quickly apologizing to the figure in front of you. He turns around.

No fucking way.

Wonwoo's eyes meet yours and a soft smile appears on his face. "It's okay," he responds. "I actually have somewhere to be right now, I shouldn't have been walking so slow anyway."

He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck.

Admittedly, Wonwoo feels a bit flustered. You're cute.

However, you're panicking. Wonwoo is talking to you, like he's really talking to you. "Uh..."

This is so embarrassing. And Mingyu's not here. Fuck, you need Mingyu here. Where is- oh.

Mingyu's tall figure jogs up the hallway, catching both your and Wonwoo's attention. "Hey!" he shouts. "You're both late!"

"Sorry," Wonwoo apologizes. "I got held up with a teacher."

As Mingyu jogs over, he heads straight toward you. Unexpectedly, he pulls you in for a hug, subtly wiping soe of the intentionally poorly applied makeup off your neck.

That sly fucker.

Mentally, you're thanking him for reacting so quickly and showing up just in time. More surpisingly, he plants a kiss on your cheek that immediately causes you to freeze up. If Wonwoo talking to you didn't make you look scared enough, this definitely did. What the hell?

Mingyu slowly backs away from you, "Y/n, you're never late."

"I uh,' you blink. "Got caught up too... sorry."

You feel dizzy and your brain is scrambled. What is happening right now?

"Okay well I already set everything up," Mingyu informs the both of you. "And I brought my old glove for you Y/n."

"Thanks," you say in a near whisper.

"Mingyu," Wonwoo speaks up. He's eyeing the slightly more visible hickey that paint your skin. "I didn't realize this was Y/n. And you didn't care to tell me you two were... together? It's nice to meet you Y/n."

Together?

You lightly shove Mingyu off of you. "We're not together. I'd rather die than be with him."

Womwoo smiles.

Mingyu chuckles, "You're so harsh Y/n."

"Mingyu you have like... a whole fanclub. You know you don't wanna date me, don't act like you don't feel the same," you eye him.

A cocky smirk forms on Mingyu's face. "Anyways, yeah me and her... not happening. And Wonwoo, you'd be the first to know if I ever did settle down with someone."

Wonwoo chuckles, "Guess I'll be waiting a while. You're allergic to commitment."

Wonwoo wasn't lying. The most Mingyu would consider commitment is sleeping with the same girl more than once. Relationships simply were not his thing. With a guy like Mingyu, he always had so many options, so why bother settling down with one?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You’re now back in Mingyu’s car. Practicing with the boys ended up being much better than you expected. Despite being nerdy, you were actually kind of athletic.

They had you bunt off of Mingyu’s pitches for the first bit of practice. Admittedly, it was hard at first. But after a few of his pitches, you started to get the hang of things.

After that, they played out situations with you on base. It was a bit scary, having them practically target you with the ball because there was no one covering the bases.

Mingyu even taught you how to pitch to Wonwoo. That ended up being your strong suit. Both of the boys were shocked when your second try ended up being a perfect pitch, and it was fast.

For the last bit of time you guys did batting practice. For you, bunting was was easier than actual batting, especially with Mingyu’s pitches. They’re ere impossible to hit and the boys just laughed and reassured you every time you got a strike.

You had a lot of fun with them.

“I think the other guys on the team would like you,” Mingyu says as you guys pull into his driveway. “You should think about managing the team.”

“Managing the team?” you echo.

“Yeah,” he parks the car.

“But I don’t know anything about baseball,” you respond, opening the passenger side door.

“Maybe not yet,” he opens his door. “But you are v helpful, and you’ve got a sick pitch. Think about it, season doesn’t start officially for another couple of weeks. If you keep practicing with me and Wonwoo you’ll know everything in no time.”

The two of you enter his house again, slipping off your shoes and going back to his bedroom. There’s no awkward tension this time.

You didn’t think you and Mingyu would still get along so well after so much time. Everything seems to have fallen back into place easily. You’ve already established the comfort level to joke with him, the same way you used to.

You figured it would take longer to get here with him, but you clicked instantly. That thought makes you happy.

“So,” he smiles. “How was it with Wonwoo today? When I first saw you two together, I was surprised. But jesus christ, you were looking at him like a ghost Y/n.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” you deny.

“I was halfway down the hallway and I could see you stuttering and shaking. Never seen someone that nervous in my life. You’re really down bad for him,” Mingyu laughs.

Is that really how you looked? You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “No don’t tell me that! Do you think he noticed? Ohymgod he definitely noticed. He probably thinks I’m so weird.”

“Eh,” he plops down on the bed. “Maybe at first considering that initial reaction was… yeah. But after that he seemed to have warmed up to you.”

“You think so?” you perk up. You’re so excited, Mingyu thinks it’s cute.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “I think he likes you.”

“Really?”

He nods. “But enough about that, we have another lesson today. And you said we don’t have much time, right?”

You nod in response.

“ ‘S all about you,” he says. “Might be a little out of your comfort zone though. It’s kind of a big step from yesterday.”

“It might be,” you breathe out. “But I trust you.”

“Yeah?” He smiles. “You ever had an orgasm before?”

He’s so blunt. You feel the rush of heat swell in your face.

“No,” you tell him truthfully.

“You’ve never touched yourself before?” he raises an eyebrow.

“I have,” you mumble, again covering your face with your hands.“Just never gotten myself there. Dunno how.”

Mingyu smirks,pulling your hands down do he can see your face. “Can I help?” He places a soft kiss on your finger.

Okay yeah the tension is back. The mood in the room has completely shifted, and now you feel all hot and nervous. But also excited? Are you really gonna let him do this?

“Yeah,” you respond.

He lets out a mental breath of relief. Mingyu was worried you were genuinely going to say no. But you trust him.

He pulls your body close to his. He's laying on his side, you on your back. "Show me what you do and I'll help."

You nod again, letting out a shaky breath.

Your shaky hands slides down into your shorts. You part your legs to give yourself easier access. Your middle finger runs along your slit. To your surprise, you’re already soaked, your own essence coating the tip of your finger.

Your finger finds your clit, it’s sensitive and throbbing with need. You let out a quiet moan at the contact. Mingyu’s eyes are glued to your figure. It’s not enough, he needs to see you.

He lets out a disapproving ‘tsk,’ placing his hand on your upper arm. “Need to see what you’re doing, show me.”

Your eyes find his. His eyes are half lidded and filled with lust. You nod slowly, sliding down your shirts and your panties without breaking eye contact. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire under his gaze.

He lets out a nearly audible ‘fuck’ at the sight of you. Your face feels so hot. Your finger circles your clit slowly, stimulating the bundle of nerves. Your hips jerk slightly at each touch.

Mingyu refuses to atop looking at you, eyes boring into your soul. His face has grown closer, eyes switching between yours and between your thighs. “This is so embarrassing,” you whimper. “Can’t do it when you’re watching.”

Mingyu licks his lips. “Let me do it for you.”

You let out a breathy ‘hah’ at his offer. His hands travels down, grasping your and bringing it up to his lips. He sucks lightly on your fingers, licking them clean.

“Please,” you whimper.

That’s all he needs. He brings his own hand to his mouth, wetting them quickly before bringing it down between your thighs. He aims straight for your clit, taking two of his fingers to circle your sensitive bud quickly. You lift your hips into his touch immediately, squirming around on his bed.

His other hand finds your jaw. He lightly pushes it toward his face, closing the small gap between you. You’re kissing him again. This time it’s messier, lacking any coordination at all.

His fingers rub your clit so fast, circling the most sensitive part of your body. Your wetness gathers on his fingers, making it easier to maintain his pace. You’re moaning into his mouth, kissing him sloppily as you concentrate on the pleasure he’s giving you.

You part your legs for him more, to which he takes advantage of. His fingers move from your clit, skipping inside of you easily.

You tilt your head back, breaking the kiss and sinking into the pillow. You let out a loud moan as he fills you up with one of his digits. It slips in easily, stretching you just enough to get used to the feeling. Your hips push up into his fingers with each movement, only making it easier for him to finger your slippery hole.

You’re moaning into his mouth, whining against his lips. “More,” you beg against his lips.

Gladly.

He pushes another finger in. You feel the burn as he stretches your tight hole. You’re so wet, his fingers slip in and out of you like it’s nothing.

His fingers are long and thick, hardly comparing to your own. Any time you’d touched yourself, it wasn’t enough. It felt good, but it was never enough to get you there. Like a good song building up to a beat drop that never came.

Mingyu however, was more than enough.

He thrusts his fingers inside of you, filling you up perfectly. His thumb finds your clit again, circling the bud again. “Fuck,” you moan.

You’re arching and pushing into his touch desperately. He feels so good. You’re moaning and whimpering, the sinful sounds filling Mingyu’s ears.

He’s beyond hard right now. His stiff cock is poking out of his pants, twitching against your thigh, straining against the fabric. He’s sure he can cum untouched, getting off on your pleasure alone.

But it’s not about him right now.

It’s about you. And how you’re whimpering his name like it’s the only word you know. How you’re being stretched open by his fingers. How you’re so fucking wet, leaking all over his bed sheets and making it easier for him to finger you. How your eyes are screwed shut and you can’t keep still. How sexy you look right now and how Mingyu never wants this to end.

However, it is, and soon. You’re beginning to feel an unfamiliar feeling build up in the pit of your stomach. The pleasure is building up and you’re nearing the edge.

“F-Fuck Mingyu,” you gasp. “I think I’m close- oh fuck.”

Mingyu’s cock twitches against your thigh again. Now he’s really excited. If you didn’t look sexy enough already, image how you’d look when you cum.

He lets out a groan in your ear, “ ‘S okay, cum for me.”

He picks up his pace, curling his fingers inside of you. He presses his fingers deep into your walls, causing you to cry out the fully go over the edge. You’re writing under his touch more, squirming incessantly. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your hands fly down onto his.

The most sinful sounds slip from between your lips as you enter a state of bliss. The feeling is intense and unfamiliar. A few tears spill from your eyes as you ride out your orgasm. You’re moaning and gasping for breath.

This feels so fucking good.

Mingyu watches you like you’re the only thing left on earth. Watching you cum will be forever engrained in his brain.

You finally come down from your high, panting softly. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his soft gaze. He’s practically drooling, eyes glued to you like you’re the only thing that matters to him.

You are literally glowing.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod softly. “Thank you.”

You don’t know why, but you kiss him again. You move off your back and onto your side, reconnecting your lips. It takes Mingyu by surprise, but he eventually melts into your touch.

He kisses you back softly, cupping your cheek. You caress skin, resting your hand on his jaw. His cock presses against your thigh and you’re suddenly aware of it.

Your hand travels down, ghosting over the stiffness in his pants. Before you can touch him, he grabs your wrist, stopping you. “You don’t want me to?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “ ‘Course I do. But you just went through a lot, you need to rest. And you said we don’t have much time today right?”

Oh yeah.

“Another lesson,” he plants a kiss on your forehead. “You wanna get cleaned up and dressed?”

You look down, remembering that your entire bottom half is completely exposed. “Oh shit I forgot.”

He chuckles. “Here, you can hop in the shower and I’ll throw your clothes and the comforter in the wash.”

He climbs off the bed, your following shortly. You enter the bathroom, ridding yourself of the rest of your clothes and sliding them under the door so Mingyu can wash them before stepping into the shower.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

When you step out of the bathroom, Mingyu is nowhere to be found. Sprawled on his bed is a set of clothes for you, one of his t-shirts, boxers, and sweatpants.

You get dressed before plopping down on his bed. Thankfully the only think you got dirty was the comforter, so he simply replaced the top layer of his bed with an old one.

You pull your laptop out of your bag, finally getting started on your assignments. A few moments later, Mingyu enters the room holding two hot cups of ramen.

“Hey, thought you might be hungry,” he hands you a cup and a pair of chopsticks.

You smile up at him. “I am, thank you. For the food and the clothes.”

“Of course,” he grins. “Anything for you kid.” He ruffles your hair before sitting at his desk.

He turns on his music and the two of you enjoy the comfortable quiet, doing your homework and eating as you wait for your clothes to finish up.

_______________________________________________

-taglist (closed)- @knucklesdeepmingi @marksflute @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @heidilolx @listxn @misssugarlips @lizzylovesboo @haogyuslut @taestrwbrry @everyw0nu @luvthatleader-nim @luveveryonewoo @jakecaffe @xeezi @wasteitonserendipity @whyokoa @shapeofgyu @fixonbreakoff @notscoupy @boo-juns @superheros-and-others @mingkis-world @thesmolishbean @bobohumyonlyboo @deekayownsme

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen angst #kpop

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hoe4hotchner · 3 years ago

Note

HOMEGIRL!!!! I love your fics and blurbs and everything!!!!!! Okay, so I have something for you. Jack and Fem!Reader has been best friends throughout their entire childhood and maybe they're seniors in high school now. Anyway, Reader has gotten close to Hotch due to her relationship with Jack and has seen him as a father figure due to her own dad being out of the picture. And then, boom she gets kidnapped and Hotch has his team on it. Sorry, this is all over the place. :) love u!!!!

Before it's too late

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader x Jack Hotchner

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: AHHHH!!!! EM! Thank you!!! I love you so much!! This was an emotional rollercoaster to write, not gonna lie.

Here’s a reminder that my Requests are open and that I also have a prompt list you can choose from.

Warnings: Angst. Kidnapping. Implied rape.

“Ugh, this calculus test is driving me nuts! I just don’t understand how we’re supposed to study for it.” You groaned, walking out of the doors to freedom. The chilly autumn air filled your lungs and left foggy clouds stranded mid-air as you exhaled.

“I’m sure you’ll ace it, you always do. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Jack put an arm around your shoulder, as you walked out of the school grounds together, bumping his head playfully into yours with a giggle on his lips.

You’d spent a great deal of time with Jack growing up, having first met in class right after you’d moved to town with your mother. Your teacher, Mrs. Cooper, had asked Jack to show you around, hoping that it would help erase the painful memories of his mother.

Instantly, you’d clicked. Spending more and more time together every day, opting to do every single school project together, having endless amounts of playdates, and even trying to hook up your parents, which did not work. You felt like you’d spent most of your childhood in the Hotchner home, it was always fun and exciting to be there, especially when Mr. Hotchner wasn’t working.

Aaron always had suspenseful stories to share with the two of you, getting crazier and crazier as you grew up and could handle more of the awfulness that he experienced on his cases. Spending as much time with the Hotchner boys as you did, Aaron started feeling more like a father figure to you, than the parent of your best friend. And vice versa with Jack and your mom. The lack of a core member of each of your families only strengthened your bond, as you felt like your shared experiences were only understood by the two of you.

“Dad’s away on a case this weekend, do you want to come over tomorrow? We can order pizza and play video games?” Jack asked as you stopped outside of the gate into your apartment complex.

“I need to study, Jack.” You pointed out, still feeling anxious for the upcoming test.

“(Y/N), please! You’ve been studying all week, we’ve barely seen each other. I miss my best friend.” Jack pleaded, his sad puppy dog eyes coming into full display. He knew you couldn’t resist them. They’d gotten you into a lot of trouble throughout your friendship, but nothing bad enough to scare you away from the brown-haired menace.

“Fine, but I’m not staying over.” You gave in, saying your goodbyes as you went inside and Jack walked two blocks further to his place.

Those were the last words spoken between the two of you. You didn’t show up the following day as you’d promised. You always kept your promises and would surely have called or texted if you couldn’t make it. That was what worried Jack when he called Aaron. He’d made sure to check if you were home first, but your mother hadn’t seen you since you’d supposedly left for Jack’s.

Your phone was off, sending him straight to voicemail whenever he tried to get in contact with you.

“Dad, I think there’s something wrong with (Y/N). She’s nowhere to be found, please, help.” Jack was frantic as he told Aaron about the situation. He’d never heard him this distraught since Haley and knew that this wasn’t just a case of you being out of town and forgetting to tell him. This was bad.

“Jack!” Aaron snapped softly, trying to get his boy back to reality once again. “If you don’t hear from her tomorrow, we’ll be on our way. Okay?” He bargained, trying to calm his son down. After all, Aaron still had his job to tend to, even though he wanted to fly back to Quantico as soon as possible. He was worried too. You weren’t just the type to disappear without a trace.

He had Garcia try to hack and trace your phone, the last known location being in your neighborhood in the morning, close to the time your mother had last seen you.

When Sunday came and you still hadn’t peeped about your whereabouts, Aaron had his whole team back in Quantico asap, leaving the local police his card to call him if they needed their help on the case they’d just discarded. Although it was an unprofessional move of him, you were more important to Jack and himself to just let you wait.

It took mere minutes for the BAU to compose a plan once back in Quantico, having Garcia check surveillance, as Morgan and Prentiss went to your neighborhood knocking on doors. Meanwhile, Spencer and JJ started searching for active unsubs in the area.

Aaron made sure to rush home to his son, needing to know everything that had happened leading up to your disappearance. But all Jack could tell was “I don’t know”, his tone getting harsher and harsher as he finally had an outlet to voice his frustrations.

When Hotch’s phone rang, it was Garcia.

“Sir, I think I have something.” She mentioned before Hotch gave his permission to add everyone else to the call, which Garcia did with an instant click of a button. “Poor sweet (Y/N) was grabbed off the street and pulled into a black van. Her captures wearing masks so facial recognition is a no-go. However, I was able to get a good read of the license plate after finding a better video angle. Foxtrot, Delta, Uniform, Seven, Zero, Two, Eight. I’ve sent the plate out to all law enforcement in the area, in hopes of that being the right thing to do.” Garcia informed as she mass texted their tablets with the surveillance pictures and the license plate.

“Thanks, Garcia.” Hotch dismissed

“Anything for you, big shot.”

“Professionalism, Garcia.” Hotch sternly reprimanded, not having the energy to push it off in the current situation.

Spencer immediately started looking closer at the surveillance after Garcia had had her turn, hoping to be able to pinpoint exactly where the vehicle was headed.

The Hotchner boys couldn’t physically be within the frames of their own bodies and sit idle, so Aaron grabbed his coat and holstered his gun, as he told Jack to get ready. Walking around the neighborhood, they alternately took turns calling your name. The power in their voices slowly descended as darkness started to fall over the city, only being illuminated by the lamps evenly positioned around the neighborhoods and streets of Quantico.

“Hotchner,” Aaron answered as his phone started buzzing in his phone. “I’m on my way.” He announced as he started turning back towards their apartment to get his car.

“Was it (Y/N)?” Jack impatiently asked as he felt the nervous jitters in his body.

“Jack go home!” Hotch sternly said, his focus narrowed on the SUV at the end of the street. If Jack hadn’t been with him, he’d have started running towards it. But he didn’t need him to worry more than he already did. “I’ll call when I know something, okay?” Hotch said before speeding off towards the location he’d been pinged off about. Jack couldn’t help but think that there was something terribly wrong, that you were hurt, potentially even dead. He didn’t like those thoughts, but couldn’t seem to shake them again. The memories of his mother’s passing rushed through his brain and engulfed him in darkness.

***

You heard the commotion outside the place you were being held in, the loud sirens filling your ears as the last hope slowly started to drain from your mind. You felt defeated. Your beaten-up body couldn’t take any more of the torture, all because he wanted to know something that you didn’t even know about yourself. The whereabouts of your father. You hadn’t seen the man since you were four and had no memories of him, other than the time he took you to the park, but that was it.

A startled whimper left your lungs as the doors were kicked in and armed officers rushed through it. Your pupils retracted as a sharp light, probably from a flashlight you thought, blinded you in the process. Once used to the brightness, you noticed the gun pointed at you by the uniformed officer. Your chest was heaving with fright.

“Get away from her!” You heard an all too familiar voice yell somewhere behind them. The tears started flowing from your eyes as you realized who it was. When Aaron got closer to you, the sight he was met with was unbearable. Shivering, severely underdressed, he noticed the cuts and bruises covering your naked thighs and arms. Clearly from forcefully being held down.

He crouched down in front of you, quickly releasing you from the binds that held you in a sitting position on the ground. You fell into his arms, sobbing as the devastating truth of what had happened to you finally caught up with you. Even though you’d been missing for less than 75 hours, so much could happen in that span.

“Mr. Hotchner, what happened?” You sobbed, trying to wrap your head around everything. You were confused. Everything had happened so quickly.

“Sweetheart?” He softly murmured as he wrapped you in his jacket, trying to get some heat into your already light blueish tone. “Can we talk about this later? You need to be seen by a medic.” He lifted you up into his arms like you weighed nothing and helped you outside where an ambulance was waiting for you. “Oh, and please call me Aaron, I think we’re way past the formalities.” He joked, hoping to keep some light in you as you had to come to terms with your situation once you’d regained full emotional capacity again.

The paramedics quickly got you strapped in on the stretcher and wheeled inside of the ambulance.

“Please don’t leave me alone, Aaron.” You begged, staring at him. He swore he’d seen those puppy dog eyes before, as you’d probably learned that un-resistible trick from his own flesh and blood.

“I never would, sweetheart.” He spoke softly to you, deeming that Jack could wait until the situation was fully under control. He hoisted himself into the back of the ambulance, holding your hand in comfort for the route to the hospital.

***

The doctors at the hospital kept on treating you for endless amounts of hours, nursing you back to health before they even let Aaron enter the room. He’d called Jack, telling him that you were okay, but there’d go sometime before you were ready to see him. He felt bad for rejecting the two of you to see each other, knowing that your relationship was like brother and sister.

A careful knock landed on the door into your room, before Aaron’s head popped into view. The emotionless expression on your face instantly told him everything he needed to know. You were still confused but felt the numbness in your whole body.

Aaron dragged a chair to your bedside, taking your hand in his, and gave it a loving squeeze, hard enough to catch your attention. A single tear fell from your eye as you looked at him. They’d told you what had happened, that they needed to do a pregnancy test on you, just to make sure. Thankfully it was negative, but the lingering feeling of disgust was still rooted deep within you.

“Why me.” You whimpered. Aaron cupped your face with his free hand, using his thumb to wipe the tear away.

“I can’t really answer that confidently, (Y/N). But I had a look into your father while you were out. He was not a good man, criminal at best. He ripped off a lot of people, bad people. And even though you don’t know him, you’re the easiest person they could find connected to him.” Aaron explained, seeing the changing expression in your eyes, as you were shocked to learn these things. You sighed.

“I spoke to your mom, she’s sorry that she can’t come. She couldn’t get out of the business trip. But I’ve promised that Jack and I will take care of you.” Aaron softly smiled at you, seeing the disappointment. As much as you loved your mom, she was never really there for you, it seemed to you that her job meant more than her own child. You couldn’t blame her, not after learning that you’d been an accident, that she never meant to have kids.

Aaron on the other hand, he seemed like the perfect parent, growing up you sometimes despised Jack for having such a caring and attentive father, even though he was gone a lot of the time. He always made time to come to school events or spent time with his son whenever he was home. Not like your mother, it was always just work with her.

He sat with you for as long as you needed. You were interrupted by the familiarity of the young Hotchner’s voice popping into the room. “(Y/N)!” He said, shocked by your appearance. “You look awful.”

“Jack!” Hotch reprimanded, thinking that it was too early in your recovery for your usual friendly banter to start.

“Thanks a lot, so do you, cry baby.” You smiled, seeing his puffy red eyes. You both fell into a fit of laughter, knowing that when the two of you just had each other, nothing could stop you, even if the world decided to hurt you.

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tomurasprincess · 4 years ago

Note

Okay but have you ever considered Yandere Hawks going into rut and kidnapping his poor, overworked secretary, taking them home to his lovely nest, and breeding them. I mean, come on, it's spring. If they didn't want to be Keigo's breeding bitch then why did they stick around for so long? 🤔 None of the other secretaries cared enough to last this long. Clearly their still at his agency because they L O V E him~ 😏 Won't they just be so pleased to carry his hatchlings and be his pretty mate? 🥵🙏

Warnings: Noncon, oviposition, forced breeding, forced orgasms, mating rut, kidnapping, drugging, yandere Note: Sorry this took so long to fill, but uhhh...I went crazy with it and this is a 1.2k monster of a mini fic. 😂

When you wake up, it takes you several seconds to realize exactly what happened. You were working overtime as per usual when your boss Hawks came in. His pupils were full blown, sweat dripping from his body like he had just run miles, and he couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

You didn’t realize the danger until it was too late and he had you in his arms, pressing a sweet smelling cloth to your mouth and holding you until you passed out. And now, you’re tied to a bed naked, legs spread wide as an even more feral looking Hawks stares at you with hunger in his eyes.

“My pretty little bird,” he whispers as he climbs into bed with you. “You’re finally awake. I didn’t want to do this while you were unconscious, that makes it no fun at all for either of us.”

“Hawks, what is the meaning of this?” You try to sound calm, rational to try and talk some sense into him. “You need to let me go.”

“Why would I do that?” He slips up your body, slotting himself in between your thighs and grinding the bulge in the front of his pants against you. The rough fabric of his jeans pushes against your clit, and you let out a soft gasp. “See? You want this.”

“Whatever this is, no I don’t want it!” You snap at him, but instead of looking angry, the corners of his lips turns up into a smile.

“Of course you do, pretty bird. It’s breeding season for me, and you stayed around like a good little bird. You wanted to be bred by me, filled up with my hatchlings until you’re big and round.”

Your eyes widen in horror. “What - no, I don’t -”

You had heard rumors of Hawks, speculation on just how bird-like the number two hero truly was. But you had no idea of this, not even an inkling. “Your breeding season?” You ask hesitantly.”

“I’m in a rut.” And then he’s unzipping his pants, pulling them off and revealing a truly large, impressive cock that’s already rock hard. “And I can’t wait, my baby bird. I need to be inside of you, need to breed you until you can’t handle any more of my eggs.”

“Eggs? No no no, Hawks, please think about this - “

But he doesn’t answer, sheathing himself inside of your unprepared pussy in one firm snap of his hips. You whine at the painful stretch of your tight muscles around his length, and tears form at the corner of your eyes that he promptly kisses away.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’ll feel good in no time,” he coos at you as he begins to thrust. “Fuck, you’re so tight - you were saving yourself just for me, weren’t you? Of course you were.”

You begin to argue, but then you feel something at the entrance of your pussy, trying to force its way in. He said eggs, you remind yourself with dawning horror, that must be an egg -

“Hawks please, please think about this! I don’t want this!”

“Yes you do, little bird,” he grunts out, as he begins to make sharp, shallow thrusts into you as the egg forces your pussy to stretch even further. “You wouldn’t have stayed if you didn’t want this.”

You scream as the egg enters you and he fucks it up into your pussy with more sharp thrusts. You feel it press against your g-spot, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you cum hard around it.

“See? I knew it, you fucking wanted this. You cumming around my eggs is so fucking hot, baby bird,” he groans out as he fucks the egg up into you. He reaches the barrier of your cervix, pausing for one second as he reassures you.

“This will hurt at first,” he admits, “but then it’ll feel good. And it will all be worth it when we have our precious hatchlings.” And then he gives one massive thrust as he forces your cervix open.

The blinding pain takes your breath away, the feeling of the egg pushing past into your womb agonizing. You feel a pop as your cervix gives way, and then the egg is filling up your once empty womb. Suddenly your body is on fire, pussy gushing liquid around his cock as more eggs push inside of you easily now that you’re more stretched open.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you mindlessly babble as the eggs move along your walls, pressing hard against them and causing more orgasms to wrack your body. “Oh fuck, Hawks, oh god, it feels so good - I can’t - “

“Keigo,” he corrects you, “call me Keigo, my beautiful mate, the mother of my children.” He presses against your stomach, rolling the egg around in your tummy and causing you to scream from the sheer pleasure.

More eggs plop into your womb along with the other, and your belly begins to swell and stretch and you’re only able to lay there limply as your body is wracked with more orgasms. “Please, no more,” you whimper pathetically, Keigo, it’s too much - ‘

“Shh, this is the last one, I promise,” he whispers to you, forcing one more egg through your wide open cervix. You glance down at your belly, shocked to see that you look 9 months pregnant already. You can see the outline of the eggs, and you marvel at it for a second before you reach down to touch one.

You give a broken moan as you feel the eggs inside of you, realizing that maybe he was right - isn’t this what you were made for? To be bred and full of eggs? It’s not so bad, you think, and in fact it feels amazing. How were you able to live, being so empty before?

“I knew it,” he smiles happily, “you realize this is what you were meant for.” He begins to thrust again, several sharp movements before he’s cumming against your cervix, shooting hot ropes of cum directly into your womb to fertilize the eggs.

He lifts your hips up, keeping his cock snugly inside of you until your cervix closes again, ensuring that no eggs slip out and all of his cum stays inside of you.

He picks you up gently, placing you in a large ring of pillows and blankets before tucking you in. “This is your nest, little bird. You’ll stay here until the eggs are ready to hatch, okay? Don’t strain yourself, you’re so delicate right now.”

You wouldn’t be able to move much even if you wanted to, you realize. Your belly feels so heavy and full, and you’re unbelievably sleepy. But before you pass out, you hear your mate distantly say something.

“We’re going to be such a happy family, baby bird.”

#takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #hawks smut #yandere hawks #hawks thirst #mari thirsts #tw: noncon #tw: ovi #tw: breeding

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unfoundhoney · 4 years ago

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mother, father, and everything else ↠

↠ platonic!c!tommyinnit x older sister!reader ; fluff , angst

↠ masterlist

↠ a companion piece to a sister’s sacrifice inspired by this tiktok

“Tommy, come on,” you call.

You pull your youngest brother’s attention away from the strings of the apron he got distracted by. He toddles over to you as quickly as he can, reaching up and asking to be picked up silently. He started walking early and go the hang of it quite quickly. However, in talking he’s a bit of a late bloomer, nearing fifteen months but yet to say his first words.

You lift Tommy up into your arms, carrying him out the back door and into the backyard. You set him down to play in the grass where you can keep an eye on him then walk over to the array of clotheslines strung up across the yard, beginning to hang up laundry.

Wilbur is off playing with Niki as usual. He’ll likely return covered in dirt and grass stains, maybe with a captured insect or stories of a new, made up kingdom he’d been ruler of that day. Phil is still out with Techno; they’ve been gone for a while now, but that’s nothing new.

You’ve hung up a pair of Wilbur’s pants and two of Tommy’s shirts when you notice Tommy crouched beside the basket full of wet clothes. He reaches inside and pulls out a sock, squeezing it curiously.

“Do you want to help, Tommy?”

Tommy looks up at you, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He nods his head once.

You giggle and ruffle his hair, “Alright, c’mere.”

You lift Tommy up again, resting him on your hip as you grab a clothespin with your free hand. You slip it over the clothesline.

“Put the top of the sock in the pin,” you tell him.

He struggles a bit, little hands still uncoordinated at his young age. He does eventually position the sock where you can close the pin on it and leave it to hang.

“Wow, good job, buddy!” you say.

You wrap him in a hug and spin around, shrieking laughter falling from his mouth at both your actions and your praise. You set him down and kneel down to be at eye level with him.

“You’re my official laundry assistant,” you say seriously. “Can you hand me clothes to hang up?”

Tommy nods eagerly and toddles over to the basket of wet clothes, grabbing a shirt from the top of the pile. He holds it above his head as he runs back over to you, holding it out.

“Good job, Tommy! We’re quite the team, you and I.”

Together, you and Tommy slowly hang the rest of the clothes up. Tommy eventually gets bored and goes off to pick dandelions and pull off their petals, leaving you to finish the chore, not that you mind. When you’re finished, you call Tommy over to get in the basket, carrying him and the leftover clothespin back inside.

“Y/N!”

The call of your name pulls you to a stop, turning to see who yelled for you. Tommy grabs onto your pant leg for balance, stopping as well. You find Puffy waving at you, hurrying over to you with her little boy Dream at her side.

“Hi, Puffy,” you say. “Hi, Dream.”

“Hi,” Dream says in a small voice.

“Tommy, can you say hi?” you ask the young boy clinging to your hand.

He’s chewing on his thumbnail, looking up at Puffy warily before hiding his face in your leg.

“Guess not,” you laugh.

“How are you, Y/N? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Puffy says.

“I’m good,” you answer. “Just getting some dinner for tonight.”

“Still the household cook, I see.”

“And just about everything else.”

You laugh and Puffy joins you, but you can tell that wasn’t a joke that went over her head. It’s no joke that you are mother and father to your younger siblings, as well as everything else. Your dad is gone too often; Wilbur doesn’t even call your father “dad,” he calls him Phil.

“Where’s your dad?” Puffy asks.

You shrug, “Around.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

You hesitate for too long, distracted as you attempt to remember the last time Phil came home.

“That hardly matters,” you brush off, “He’s busy doing important stuff and I can look after Wilbur and Tommy myself anyway.”

The look of concern on Puffy’s face is not missed by you. You do, however, elect to ignore it.

Dream tugs on Puffy’s sleeve, “Mom.”

“Yeah, buddy?” Puffy asks, leaning down.

Dream points into the market, where you see Sapnap with his father and his friend George.

“Go say hi, but don’t wander too far,” Puffy tells Dream.

When she turns back to you, keeping one eye on her son, you say, “I’ve gotta head home. Need to make dinner and all that.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puffy says. “I’m here if you ever need help. Or someone to talk to. Or... anything really.”

“Thanks, Puffy.”

You don’t notice at your side, Tommy trying to form the word that Dream used that so quickly got his mother’s attention.

“Look after yourself, Y/N.”

“I am.” You always have.

With a wave, you turn and head back home, Tommy walking slowly beside you. The walk from the market to your house takes about fifteen minutes and you end up carrying Tommy for most of it to speed things up.

When you arrive home, you find Wilbur and Niki sat in the front yard playing a hand clapping game. They stop when they spot you, jumping up and running to come meet you as you walk up the front path.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Wilbur shouts your names repeatedly.

“Will! Will! Will!” you mimic.

“Can I spend the night at Niki’s?” Wilbur asks.

You like Niki. She’s sweet and a good influence for Wilbur.

“Uhm, as long as her parents are alright with it,” you say, doing your best to sound like a grown up despite only being sixteen.

“We’ve already talked to them,” Niki tells you.

“Alright, then,” you concede. “Behave while you’re there.”

“I will, Y/N!” Wilbur says, running off with Niki.

You watch them go for a few moments until you’re reminded of the toddler sitting on your hip. Tommy squirms around, wanting down. You set him on the ground and walk with him inside.

You set him up with some paper and crayons at the kitchen table. You sit across from him, watching as he carefully looks over his color options before choosing the red crayon.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, bud,” you muse.

You pet Tommy’s hair before you stand, moving to start on dinner. You season meat and chop potatoes, humming to yourself and keeping an eye on Tommy. Thankfully, your youngest brother isn’t a picky eater, which makes meals a lot easier than they could be, especially since he’s been in the solid foods stage for a while now.

The rest of the night is fairly quiet. You and Tommy eat dinner then you do the dishes while he waddles around the living room and plays with some of his toys. You can hear him experimenting with running, his footfalls surprisingly loud for such a small human. You hear him fall, as well, but without any crying then the return of his heavy footsteps, you don’t go to check on him.

You start composing your next shopping list and check the calendar for any upcoming events. There’s a festival next week that you’re meant to chaperone Wilbur and his friends at. Maybe you can team up with Puffy so Tommy can play with Tubbo, and Dream can join Wilbur. You’ll ask her tomorrow.

You hear Tommy enter the kitchen. He waddles over to where you sit at the table and crawls into your lap. He grabs your free hand and starts playing with your fingers as you continue writing down what you’ll need for your bigger grocery run in a few days.

“Mom.”

You freeze.

What?

“Mom.”

You look down at Tommy.

He looks up at you, “Mom.”

“N-No...,” you say weakly.

“Mom.”

“No, I’m not your mom.”

“Mom.”

“No...”

“Mom!” Tommy says happily. “Mom mom mom!”

“Okay, okay,” you say shakily, putting a hand gently over your little brother’s mouth to get him to stop. “Okay, good job.”

Your vision’s blurry. You want to cry. Your chest hurts. But right now, Tommy’s said his first word.

“Good job,” you repeat.

You pull Tommy into a hug and wipe at your eyes behind his back.

Tommy rests his little cheek on your shoulder, already tired but quickly drifting off to sleep in your warm embrace, “Mom...”

“Shhh,” you say, voice weak.

Tommy goes limp, asleep in your arms. As your tears begin to fall, you make sure not to let your sobs move you. How has this happened? Mom. No. You’re not a mother. Except you are. In every way that matters, you are Tommy’s mother. You’ve raised him ever since Phil brought him home that day.

You wish your family was normal. As normal as a family of four adopted children, a single father, and a non-biological uncle could be. You wish your dad was home more. You wish you didn’t have to be the only parental figure Tommy has ever known. It’s to the point he calls you mom. How could Phil let it get to this? How could he care so little?

You just want to have a normal family with parents who are adults and kids who are allowed to be children. You did not get to be a child, but Wilbur and Tommy will. You will always be there for them. You promise. You will give them what you had taken from you. Hatred for your father burns in your chest but it’s quickly snuffed out, doused by nostalgia that longs for a childhood you never had.

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nsheetee · 4 years ago

Text

Awaken

Pairing: chenle x reader Genre: friends to lovers AU, fluff, mature content Length: 6.4k Summary: When Chenle invites you on a last minute trip to his family’s home in China, you’re excited at the prospect of a small vacation and about spending time with your crush. Surprisingly, Chenle’s extended family is there as well, and a series of events quickly awaken something new in both of you. Warnings/Details: female reader, explicit sex (breeding kink, unprotected sex [please stay safe], creampie) disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. the characters and events are not a reflection of reality or meant to offend in anyway.

“What do you mean you can’t come? We were talking about this literally last night, and not even 12 hours later, you can’t come?!” Chenle practically screams into his phone as he stuffs random pants and shirts into his open suitcase. “Explain yourself, Park.”

“My mom suddenly wants me to come home.” Jisung sounds apologetic and slightly timid, “She said she’s cooking dinner tonight for our family and if I’m not at the table she’ll cut my tongue off. I know she won’t actually do it, but... I don’t want to test it.”

Chenle sighs, sounding bothered by this predicament, but Jisung knows his best friend isn’t going to be that sad about his absence. It’s not like Jisung has never been to Chenle’s house in China, and although he loves the place, he knows this won’t be the last opportunity for him to fly there. When Chenle sighs once more, this time just to be annoying and show how irritated he is, Jisung speaks again.

“Don’t be like that. You love visiting your family, just think of it as an opportunity to spend more time with them.” Jisung hears Chenle fall onto his bed on the other side of the line.

“I do love to visit, but my whole family is either younger than nine or older than thirty-five. I just want someone that’s my age to be with me if I feel lonely.” Jisung pouts at that. Chenle is an outgoing person and loves to be around the people he’s comfortable with, so hearing that he gets lonely without his best friend makes Jisung’s heart hurt a bit. However, an idea suddenly pops into his head.

“Hey, you actually do have another friend our age, and I bet she would love to go to China with you.” At the mention of a ‘she,’ the only ‘she’ both Chenle and Jisung know at the moment who would want to hang out, Chenle sits up straighter on his bed and his heart rate speeds up.

“Oh, ___?” He tries to sound nonchalant, “I’m not sure. She would be meeting my family, won’t she think that’s weird? And what if she feels uncomfortable? It’s not like she can just go home—”

“There are lots of what if’s, Chenle. All I know is that she finished her finals and is on break, and probably deserves a small vacation for her hard work.” Jisung pushes, suddenly excited that he can’t come on the trip if it means Chenle can get closer to you. “Just ask her. I promise it won’t hurt.”

“If she says no, it will hurt my pride. So, that’s a lie.”

“Chenle.” Jisung replies flatly.

“Fine, fine, I’ll ask.” Chenle plays with the hem of his shirt, thinking about how nervous he got over this trip just by adding you into the equation. With some last goodbyes and a promise that Chenle will update Jisung about everything that happens this weekend, the call ends. Chenle fidgets through his phone, procrastinating calling you, but when every single app is checked and there is only the phone icon staring back at him, Chenle sighs and finds your contact, pressing the call button.

After meeting you through Jisung, you and Chenle quickly became close friends. You’re both easy-going, prefer staying up late at night, and okay with being lazy at home, so hanging out together is easy to do. It also doesn’t hurt that you’ll eat literally anything Chenle cooks, boosting his pride tenfold when you praise him endlessly for his cooking. Actually, one night at his house after he made dinner and you shared a bottle of wine on the rooftop of his house while looking at the night sky, wishing the light pollution didn’t erase all the stars, that’s when he figured it out.

You’re important to Chenle. So, so important.

He knows he has feelings for you, and that he cares about you deeply. He is aware of your presence whenever you’re in the same room and gets that longing feeling in his stomach when your attention is taken away from him. There is no doubt that Chenle is in the middle of falling head over heels for you, but he always feels the need to keep a few steps back.

He walks on a tightrope, on one end is friendship and on the other is love, and he’s stuck in the middle. You’ve given him hints of attraction and subtle nuances in your words that could possibly mean you have feelings for him as well, but nothing concrete enough that gives Chenle the confidence to walk further along the tightrope.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip can bring you two closer to the end of this balance beam.

“A trip?” Chenle hears excitement in your voice after he explains what happened with Jisung, and he feels hopeful, “That sounds like fun!”

“Great. I’ll pick you up in three hours.” Chenle feels giddy and nervous at the same time, his leg bouncing up and down to portray all of his feelings.

“Oka— Wait. Three hours?”

“Bye!” Chenle abruptly ends the call before you can ask anything else or change your mind, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed. He takes a few deep breaths and then stands up, continuing to pack his things. This time with more skip in his step that’s fueled by the promise of your presence with him for the whole weekend.

It’s already nearing 6pm when you arrive in Shanghai. You follow Chenle closely as he leads you through the airport, looking really confident about every turn he makes as he weaves through the busy and tired looking people. However, you’re both thrown off your path when a large window on your right catches your eye, the night view of the city of Shanghai making you stop in your tracks and swerve to take a closer look.

Your hands smudge the clean windows as you lean in and stare at the enormous city, the sparkling lights and tall buildings look like you just took a flight to the future, not just a few hours south.

“It’s pretty…” You trail off, not really talking to anyone in particular. Chenle, who followed you to the window and also stares at the view from beside you, smiles at the comment.

“You like it?”

“It’s amazing…” You sound like you’re in a daze, which makes Chenle smile wider.

“I should show you the view from the balcony in my room. It’s ridiculous.” Chenle nods and gives the view one more glance over. His words bring you back to reality, making you shiver.

In Chenle’s bedroom… where so many things other than watching the night sky can happen.

You heat up in embarrassment at the dirty thoughts, yelling at yourself in your head for thinking like that when Chenle probably meant it in the most innocent way.

“We should probably get going..” Chenle seems completely oblivious to your predicament, yawning as he turns around and continues walking through the airport. You follow him, lightly biting the inside of your cheek as your previous thoughts fly through your mind again.

The Shanghai airport is crowded, almost over-crowded. After traveling further through the airport, it gets hard to follow Chenle’s leather bucket hat that bobs through the sea of people and you have to grip onto his backpack so that you don’t lose him. He feels the sudden weight on his bag, turning around to see you struggling.

His hand finds yours, making you release the grip on his zippers and instead intertwine with his fingers, turning to look forward and once again leading you to baggage claim. Your hands start to sweat and you feel embarrassed, but Chenle doesn’t seem to mind as he squeezes your fingers softly and glances back at you to make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t let go of your hand until your luggage arrives, and when he does release your hold, you feel very cold and empty from the lack of Chenle’s touch.

“Mom, I’m home!” Chenle yells into his house, dragging his suitcase behind him and taking off his shoes, “I brought a friend.” You both leave your things at the door and Chenle hands you some slippers, then you follow him through the house in search of his mother. You find her in the kitchen, stove on and several pots and pans cooking food at once.

“Chenle!” She exclaims after seeing her son, and then her eyes fall on you.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet her, slightly unsure of what her reaction to you will be.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be bringing your girlfriend here.” She laughs gleefully and leaves the stove to come closer, almost jumping on the tile floors over to you.

“Oh, we’re n-” You begin, but Chenle cuts you off.

“Jisung couldn’t come, so I brought ___ here instead. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” She smiles, which makes you relax a bit, “You’ve never brought anyone here other than Jisung, I was beginning to think you don’t know anyone other than him.”

It’s your turn to laugh, covering your mouth as you glance at Chenle to see him roll his eyes with a sour look on his face. Before he can retaliate, his mom cuts him off.

“Well, since you’re here, could you set the table? I’m running late on dinner and I need extra hands. Get out eleven plates and those high chairs we keep in the closet.” She quickly makes her way back to the stove after warmly rubbing your arm, moving faster than your eyes can follow as she adjusts spices and stirs.

“Why so many?” Chenle asks.

“Your aunts and uncles are coming over today.” At that information, you turn to face Chenle with an unsure look painted on your face.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You step closer to him and whisper, “If you’re having a family dinner, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Of course it’s okay. Don’t even worry about it.” Chenle gently grabs your shoulders and turns you around, forcing you to walk out of the kitchen and back into the foyer. You collect your luggage and head upstairs.

Chenle’s house has an impressive three stories with several bedrooms, an office, and a lounge room in the top two floors and the rest of the important rooms on the first floor. You didn’t see much of the backyard, but you caught sight of several trees that surround the house, making the area more private. Considering this place is close to the city, you’re amazed at how all of this belongs to Chenle and his family.

His room is on the third floor, and you take a look inside when he sets down his things on his bed. The balcony he mentioned earlier is covered with long white curtains and his bed is wide, taking up a good chunk of space. On the other side of the room, a TV hangs on the wall and there are several gaming consoles hooked up. Overall, a normal guy’s room.

“You’re next door…” He mumbles and leads you to the room next to his. The layout is a mirrored version of his room, only the balcony is replaced with large windows and the room is more generic looking rather than lived-in like Chenle’s. You set your things down and glance out of the window; you’re met with the canopy of trees that grow in his backyard.

“And your bathroom is right here,” Chenle’s voice brings you back to the room, showing you inside the bathroom, “And if you need anything, my room is right through here.” He opens a door in the bathroom to reveal his room on the other side. You nod and walk over to the bed, plopping down on the soft covers.

“Your house is amazing. I feel like I’m staying at a fancy AirBnB… but I don’t have to pay for it and there’s a family staying here too.” You both laugh at that, but your comment has you questioning your stay here some more.

“You’re sure it’s okay for me to be here? I don’t want to take your time away from family.” You bite your lip and look up at Chenle, looking for his honest answer. You’d hate for Chenle to not spend all the time he can with his family while he’s here, considering he can’t visit often.

“I am 100% sure that you’re okay to stay here. I think everyone will l-love you.” Chenle clears his throat after his stutter, hoping you wouldn’t question his sudden nerves surrounding the topic of love.

“Okay.” You nod and rub your hands over your thighs to rid yourself of anxiety. You only keep asking because you hate to be an intrusion. But if Chenle is sure that your presence here is okay, then you’re going to enjoy this vacation to the best of your abilities.

“You get settled, I’ll go help my mom. I’ll get you when dinner is ready.” Chenle turns around to leave the room, but you stop him.

“Oh, I can help. It’s the least I can do, and it seems like there’s a lot to get ready.”

“But you’re a guest—”

“I don’t mind.” You smile and leave the room first, looking over your shoulder as if to beckon him to try and stop you. Chenle doesn’t, partially because he wants to spend any second he can with you, even if it’s just setting the dinner table. But he also doesn’t stop you because that would mean grabbing onto your hand and pulling you back, and Chenle almost had a heart attack at the airport the first time he did that. Thinking back on it, the action felt natural but it still startled him, and he can’t get the feeling of how your soft hands feel in his own out of his head.

“Hey, wait up! You’ll get lost.” Chenle calls out and quickly follows you out of the room.

Chenle’s family loves you. In fact, Chenle thinks they love you just a little too much.

From his mom cooing at you as you help Chenle properly set the table to his aunts and uncles endlessly talking about your hobbies and school, it seems like you’re the life of the party tonight. However, that’s not what catches Chenle’s eye.

As he’s carrying some drinks to his dad and uncles who decided to sit outside after eating, Chenle passes by the living room to see you and his nieces and nephews playing. You’re reading a book to one of the younger kids while the others are coloring next to you and constantly showing you their art, seeking your approval or ideas on what they should draw next. Chenle’s two older nephews are playing tag around the table, and overall it’s just a whole ruckus. Chenle only has a chance to glance into the room for a second before continuing his trip outside to deliver the drinks.

As he’s coming back in, he’s startled by his older nephews who took their game of tag out into the hallway, almost running into Chenle.

“Woah, woah, woah. You shouldn’t be running in the hallway, get back in the living room.” Chenle ushers the boys back and once all of them are in the living room, he shuts the doors completely to keep anyone from going back out. His eyes land on you, you’re in the same position as you were before, but now you look up at Chenle and give him a warm smile while patting the spot next to you.

Chenle sits with his legs crossed while facing the same direction as you, looking over his niece's artwork and complimenting their scribbling, and then leaning back against the couch to mirror your position.

“I guess it’s more fun to play with the kids than with the adults?” Chenle asks, making your attention move from the TV screen where a kid’s movie is playing to meet Chenle’s eyes.

“Don’t you find it fun to play with kids? I think there’s never a dull moment with these guys.” You laugh and motion around the room as if to make your point.

“So, you like kids?” Chenle asks.

“Yes, a lot.” You nod, watching him look away and nod at your words. “What about you?”

“My nieces and nephews are… a bit too wild for me.” He admits, “But I like kids. I would like to have my own kids in the future.” Chenle speaks without really thinking about his words, just talking to you about anything is nice. When he realizes what he said at the end, his eyes glance over at you to gage your reaction.

“Same here. There’s some special sort of happiness that comes with having kids. I see it all the time on mothers’ faces, and I always wonder what it feels like. I bet you can’t really find that kind of feeling anywhere else in the world.” You muse, and Chenle quickly agrees with your sentiment, involuntarily gulping as the thoughts in his head rampage.

Could you get anymore perfect for him?

You look down at your thigh, for some reason not being able to look at Chenle in the eye. “I think… You’ll be a really good father, Chenle.”

Just from your simple words, Chenle’s heart begins to pound in his ears and warmth spreads through his chest. He watches you shyly look up at him, not being able to do anything but stare at you for fear of his body moving without his control.

“Can you please read again.” His youngest niece breaks the staring contest between you two with her question, pulling your gaze away from him. When your attention is on his niece, he quietly slips out of the room and stumbles up the stairs to his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He paces around his bed, his hands running through his hair as he tries to figure out

what just happened. You said you like kids. You said you would like kids in the future. You also said you think Chenle would make a good father. Are you purely giving him compliments or… could you be hinting at something else?

Why does Chenle feel like his heart might explode any second if he keeps thinking about you. On second thought, he looks down, his pants might be the thing that explodes. Chenle sighs, slightly embarrassed that he got hard by just thinking about you.

You looked so cute playing with his nieces and nephews, so kind and genuinely warm hearted to them that it melted Chenle’s heart. He wants to see it again. He wants to see you reading a book to them and changing your voice for every character, listening intently as they tell you story after story, rubbing their backs gently as they color.

Chenle wants to see you like that with his kids.

His own thought scares him a bit, and he sits down on his bed while trying to calm his breathing. He’s even more surprised at the shot of pleasure that runs through him at his own idea. He feels his stomach turn pleasantly at the thought of a little you and him running around, you showing your love to both Chenle and your child.

Warmth grows in Chenle's heart; he wants it so bad.

He can imagine the picture so clearly in his head that it hurts him to think about it, since he knows he’s far from that point in his life. That doesn’t stop him from getting turned on, though. He digs the heel of his palms into his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to think of something —anything— else. Why is it that whenever you’re around, he can’t think of anything, but whenever you’re not around, he can only think of you?

‘It’s useless’ he sighs, scooting up on his bed and moving his bedsheets away.

Sitting against his head board, Chenle grips his sheets in one hand and his other slides down his stomach, tickling him slightly, and over his crotch. Swallowing thickly, he closes his eyes and focuses on his warm hand stimulating his member. He can’t help but let out a soft sigh at his own teasing, but soon has had enough and quickly pushes down his pants and boxers to let his dick spring out. Using some precum that glistens as it runs down the side of his dick, he starts pumping his shaft, eventually getting fully hardened.

His wrist turns every time he reaches the end of a pump and he slides down the headboard as his eyes flutter from the pleasure. Chenle is good at staying quiet thanks to the years of practice in his full house, but he can’t help the whines he emits every so often when his fingers move over his tip.

But soon, Chenle turns frustrated. He’s doing all the things he knows his body likes, but his orgasm is just too far away still. He becomes impatient, starting to shift his hips around and rub his length faster as sweat builds on his forehead, but it only hurts his wrist and makes him itch for his orgasm more.

Every time Chenle thinks of you while getting off, he feels a bit guilty.

He hopes you don’t mind it, but you hold a place in his heart and Chenle is very attracted to you, it’s impossible to think of anyone else when he’s in this position. So, Chenle takes a breather, and when he continues his stroking, he thinks about your tiny hand replacing his instead. His eyes immediately roll to the back of his head and he finds it hard to keep himself sitting up.

Chenle’s head is tilted back, his jaw dropping open bit by bit as he moves on to thinking about your warmth mouth around his cock, the way your face would look as you glance up at him and kiss up his thighs before sliding his member through your lips again.

Chenle has to shove the duvet he has been gripping into his mouth to stop the moan that almost leaves his throat, his eyes screwing shut as he imagines how good your wet pussy would feel around his dick, sliding in and out as you chase your own release. He loses composure when he imagines what your pants and moans would sound like in that situation, what your nails would feel like gripping onto his shoulder for dear life, and what the flesh of your hips and waist would feel like under Chenle’s hands as he drives you harder onto his cock.

Chenle eventually starts thrusting his hips up into his hand, desperately chasing his high to the very highest peak. Chenle has thought about you many times while jerking himself off, but this time around, the thing that makes him tip over the edge is the thought of his cum shooting into you. He lets himself fall into the pleasure, seeing stars at the thought of his seed filling you up. He milks himself as strings of cum land on his thighs and pants, going to the very last stroke until it almost feels painful.

He limply falls over on his bed, breathing heavy and ears slightly ringing from the intensity he brought upon himself. When the feeling goes away he opens his eyes and listens to the sounds of the commotion downstairs, his mom and aunties playing with the kids, and the cars that drive by outside his balcony. When he looks over at the bathroom door, his heart drops all the way to his stomach and his head turns fuzzy from panic.

You’re right there.

Maybe you think he doesn’t see you, half hidden by his bathroom door, but he sees your hand resting on the handle and he hears your heavy breaths all the way from across the room. A part of him wants to dig himself into the covers and never come back out, but he pushes that embarrassment away so he can think clearly. You’re just standing there, no doubt just saw him come, why aren’t you leaving?

“___,” Chenle calls out, his voice lower than you expected and making you flinch behind the door. “Come here.” He says it softly, but in a demanding tone, so you open the door all the way and look at him. A mess of sheets surrounds him and his hair sticks to his forehead from sweat, all of this is illuminated by the dim moonlight coming from the balcony. Taking small steps to him, you don’t know what to do with your hands or where to look, but Chenle makes it easy when he pulls you down on the bed next to him.

“Did you like what you saw?” His question startles you, “Tell me the truth.” He adds on. You nod, a question of your own coming to mind.

“Why did you say my name when you were doing… that?” Chenle’s eyes widen, not aware of your name slipping through his lips. “Tell me the truth.” You say back at him.

Something in Chenle tells him that things won’t be the same way between you two after tonight no matter how he tries to amend this situation, so he thinks he might as well take it as far as you’ll let him.

He leans into you slowly, lips sliding past your cheek and teasing the skin there, stopping to whisper into the shell of your ear. “Because I was thinking of you, why else?” He likes how you shiver, he likes seeing the goosebumps on your shoulder from his words. Scraping up as much courage as he can, he leans all the way in and places a hot kiss below your earlobe. He waits for you to push him away, but you only grab onto the front of his shirt for leverage, so Chenle continues. He presses slow and open-mouthed kisses down your neck, almost too slow, until he reaches your shoulder where he bites down gently, raising a sharp gasp out of you.

You push him away and look at his eyes. Chenle is afraid that you’ll tell him to stop because this surely means he screwed up, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the next words that come out of your mouth.

“Tell me what you were thinking about. I’ll make your dreams into reality.”

Chenle’s jaw drops slowly at that, looking over your face for any signs of a joke. But fire burns in your eyes and the hand that’s holding onto his shirt pulls him in, lips crashing together in your very first kiss.

It’s hot, the room and the kiss and the way your hand falls down to chest and stomach to reach his dick, once again twitching from just the slight sting your nails give him as they travel across his body, not to mention the way your tongue slides into his mouth, exploring every corner. The kiss is wet and messy, but neither of you care right now.

��Was it like this? Hm?” You pull away while tilting your head, somehow looking innocent as you start to pump his dick, the same way he did not too long ago. Chenle shakes his head, pushing on your shoulder to get you to sit on the floor. As you slide onto your knees Chenle grips the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head, wiping his hands on it, and throwing it behind him, not caring about how dirty it will be after.

When he looks down at you between his legs, your little hands moving his pants and boxers all the way down his legs, he thinks he must be dreaming. It has to be fake, you look too good with his spit covering your lips and your hands spread out on his thighs, looking up at him curiously as if to ask for what he wants next. This has to be a dream, but when he feels your soft hair bunching up in his hand and the first touch of your puffy lips on his sensitive tip, he knows this is anything but a dream.

He’s all too excited when his hips push up into your mouth and his hand tightens in your hair. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he can’t help how good you’re making him feel. His toes curl, his mouth releases little whimpers and pleas filled with your name, probably the most vocal he has been in his entire life.

You don’t mind the roughness from him, you like it actually, the wetness building in your core proof of that. The sight above you, Chenle’s head tilted back and the outline of his abs flexing every time your tongue swirls around his dick is more than enough to get you heated, desperate for some friction between your legs. Just when you think Chenle is going to cum, he pulls you away from him, surprising you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, suddenly afraid you did something wrong. He groans, his eyes squeezing shut hard enough that the dimples under his eyes come out. He lets you stand up, but grabs the back of your thigh to pull you closer to him.

“I should be good to you, I can’t let you sit on the floor and suck my dick all night, as much as I would like that.” That makes you chuckle a bit. Chenle smiles, moving your shirt up and peppering kisses over your stomach, right above your waistband. You remove your shirt, feeling Chenle’s hands play with the buttons and zipper of your pants.

“What’s next?” You ask after he slowly slides your pants off of your legs and throws them behind you. He looks at you, his eyes conveying how nervous he feels by your question. He’s not sure how you would feel about the next part of his fantasy.

“Can I come in you?” He asks so fast that you almost don’t register his words, but when you do your eyebrows quirk up. When you don’t say anything, Chenle continues, “I know this is kind of wild for our first time together, but I promise I’m clean and—”

“Sure.” Chenle shuts up at that, his eyes wide as he tries to read your face through the lack of good lighting. “I trust you. Do you trust me?” When Chenle nods, you climb onto his lap, your lips meeting again in a softer kiss than before. You grip the strands of his hair in the back of his head as you gently sit down on his thighs. Chenle immediately grabs your hips and pulls you flush against him, chest to chest and hips against hips so that you can feel his dick pressing against your center, raising a strangled gasp out of you.

Chenle takes that moment to slide his tongue in your mouth, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you against him while his other hand moves your hips against his own. His dick rubs against your center, the slickness that has seeped through your underwear making Chenle shake with pleasure. He kisses down your neck and chest to leave hickies on the top of your breasts while continuing to grind up into you, starting to feel obsessed with how you sound every time his dick rubs against your clit.

You’re in the middle of taking off your bra when his hand that was moving your hips moves to your front as he runs two fingers over your covered slit. It surprises you and you let out a moan, forgetting about your bra and covering your mouth to stop yourself from getting any louder. He moves your panties to the side and slides one finger in to test the waters, you clench around him instantly and sigh in relief at how he curls his finger in you.

“Relax,” He mutters and removes your bra all the way for you, his hand once again finding a palace at your waist to steady you on top of him, “I got you. You’re safe with me.” He mumbles against your shoulder between kisses as you get adjusted on top of him. Your nails that were gripping into his shoulders relax a bit, and he adds a second finger to stretch you out some more. Your shaky breath tickles Chenle’s ears when he does so, but eventually you start grinding down on his fingers.

Chenle takes a moment to watch you grind onto his hand, your eyes shut as you’re completely lost in your own pleasure. You even look pretty like this, how is that fair? Chenle can’t help but express his feelings in the form of kisses over any part of your skin he can reach. You’re pretty sure he has kissed everywhere by the time he pulls his fingers away, making you turn your attention on him.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He gives you one last chance to back out, but you nod your head in agreement, your head cloudy from pleasure and your whole body begging for him to fuck you already. He nods too, guiding his dick into your hole and letting you slide down him inch by inch. Every move downward sends his mind blank and his stomach tightening, watching how he disappears into you and twitching from how tight you are. You keep clenching around him and it’s driving him completely insane. He leans back on his hands, breathing deeply to keep himself under control.

When you’re sat all the way down, Chenle takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers together to place your hand against his cheek. You’re not sure if he even realizes he does this since his eyes are still shut in pleasure, but the gesture makes you smile a bit.

When Chenle thrusts up into you, your smile drops. Fuck, that feels good.

Chenle releases your hand and instead takes a hold of your hips keeping you steady as he thrusts up into you in a steady rhythm, drawing out unstoppable groans and moans from both of you, not caring about who’s hearing you two. His hips slap against yours with every move, sending you closer and closer to your high as you hold onto each other. When he stops for a moment, no doubt tired from all of the work, you continue to roll your hips against his.

“Ah—” He groans at your movements, “Oh my god, ___, don’t stop.” He moans. If you thought Chenle’s singing voice sounded heavenly, then you think the voice he used to moan your name might be out of this world, filled with so much feeling and lust that you don’t think he can even register what he’s saying anymore.

You feel your orgasm approaching all too fast, and when Chenle’s hips start to move again, you think he might be close too. That’s when you lean into his ear, the same way he did to you when he started all of this just a while ago.

“Come in me, Chenle.” You beg him, and his hips move faster, the grip he has on your hips so tight you’re sure there’s going to be bruises. You can’t think about it right now, though, as his cock moves in and out of you mercilessly and your name tumbles out of his lips once again.

Your orgasm breaks open throughout you, spreading like a wildfire through your nerves. You’re sure you can feel Chenle all over you and all around you as you come, pleasure filling you up from your head to your toes. As your muscles flutter around him, Chenle lets go too, white and hot springs of his sperm shoot into you. He continues to fuck it into you, slowing down when he feels both of you almost topple over from fatigue.

He slowly lays down in his bed, careful when he rolls you to the side. Sliding his dick out, he watches his white seed flow out of your pussy and down your thigh, his lips opening in awe and surprise at how much he likes the sight.

“Are you okay?” He asks, suddenly realizing the redness around your hips and waist from his own hands.

“Oh, I’m great. I’m wonderful, actually.” You sigh out, your eyes closed as you are still trying to get over the orgasm Chenle gave you. Your words make him chuckle, a bit of cockiness peaking through.

“Huh, I guess I’m that good, yeah?” Chenle makes sure to send you a closed lip smile, and you peak an eye open to hit him gently against the arm before retracting and falling limp again, both of you not able to control your bubbling laughter.

Chenle always imagined what the other side of the balance beam would look like— how it would feel like. Now, as he looks at your messy hair, your shining skin under the moonlight, and your quiet mumbles about random things as you cuddle under the blanket, he thinks it may feel just like this.

Later, after you and Chenle cleaned up a bit and got situated under the covers with you laying your head on his shoulder and him tracing stars, hearts, and the Chinese characters of his name on your back, Chenle gets a phone call.

“Hey, how are you? How’s it going with ___?” Jisung asks on the other side. Once you hear his voice, you perk up and tilt your head to look at Chenle with a raised eyebrow.

“Everything’s good, really good, actually. How’s your family?” Chenle asks back, stopping his tracing for a second to flick your forehead gently, making you slightly scowl at him.

“Good, my mom didn’t cut my tongue off, as you can probably tell.” Chenle lets some air out of his nose in the form of laughter at Jisung’s joke.

“So, why did you call?” Chenle hums into the phone, burying himself closer to you under the covers.

“Don’t you remember? You said you would update me on anything that happens while you’re over there. Did something happen?” Jisung asks and Chenle can’t contain his smile as he answers.

“Park Jisung, I’m so glad you couldn’t come this weekend.”

“What? What does that mean—”

“I’m hanging up now.” Chenle ends the call, throwing his phone somewhere on the bed and wrapping his arm around you, cuddling closer to you and finally falling asleep.

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nights-legacy · 4 years ago

Text

Left Behind - All Might's Daughter Pt. 1

PLEASE READ NOTE

{Note/Question/Request- Right now this isn't a paired imagine. I was wondering, after you've read it, where you think I should go with this. If I pair her with anybody, who should is be? How or should she forgive the two OFA users? Etc. Let me know!!}

+2460 Words Slight, slight spoilers from the Sports Festival!

+Y/N L/N is the only daughter of All Might. She has her mother's last name and what can be qualified as a super soldier quirk. She is fast, strong, powerful, and built like a tank and it's all in a small 15 year old girls body. After Midoriya comes into the picture, Y/N starts to feel left behind after a while. So she starts to pull away from them and gets close with Bakugo. Eventually, it all snaps at once and it was at the worst of times.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I huffed and puffed as I slowed to a stop I looked behind as the rest of the class caught up with Iida and I. We were the fastest in class without quirks and with most of the time. With the sports festival coming up, everyone was trying improve on things they lacked.

“Great job everyone.” Iida congratulated as everyone made it in. I walked over to Midoriya who was nearly doubled over.

“Are you okay there, Midoriya?” I asked patting him lightly on the back. He looked up at me, nodding. “You seem really winded. Maybe you should sit down for a minute.”

“Probably.” He said before he fell back, flat on his back. I laughed at him as he clocked out. I leant over him, hands on my knees, making sure he was okay. A yell of frustration caught my attention. I looked over at the source and saw Bakugo yelling at Sato who was just standing their indifferent.

“Okay, okay.” I went over and grabbed Bakugo’s arm, forcefully dragging him off. He growled at me and ripped his arm from my grip as we got a ways off.

“What do you want?”

“Not a blood bath.” I said with sass. He stared at me before smirking. He crossed his arms and leaned in close.

“I can take someone out without any blood being split.” He said.

“That may be true but who said I was talking about the other person’s blood.” I joked with an amused look on his face. His smirk turned glare and he went off on me. I just laughed and let him. I saw a flash of yellow and blue. I looked over and saw my dad whisking Midoriya away. My face dropped.

“What’s wrong with you now?” Bakugo exclaimed. I looked at him surprised before I saw him look where I was originally. Midoriya and my dad were out of sight now.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I said, covering up my dejected annoyance with a smirk. “Now, sorry. I wasn’t listening to you before. What were you saying?”

“You damn…” He growled.

*Time Skip*

The roar of the crowd was empowering but there was a lot on my mind. The sports festival is a big deal. The first two events were alright and I got through fine but the last one was trickier. There are a lot of students with great quirks that could kick my ass. I walked through the halls before I heard two familiar voices. (Reader is in the final round instead of Shiozaki.)

“What are they talking about now?” I whispered to myself. I leant against the wall a ways down the hall. I listened to them and heard Dad encourage Midoriya. After that, Midoriya walked out to the field. Dad began to walk down my way. “Hey dad.”

“Y/N, you spooked me.” He jumped, holding a hand to his chest.

“Sorry.” I said, chuckling.

“Well, it’s alright. You are doing well out there, my little Powerhouse.” I tensed at the nickname.

“Dad.” I whined. He chuckled before moving to walk on. “I’m nervous for the next round.”

“Everything will be fine, Y/N. You’ll see.” He said in a caring voice. He walked away and my shoulders dropped. I needed more than that. Much more. I turned and leant against the wall with my shoulder. I set my head against the wall and took a few un-steady breaths.

“What are you doing dumbass?” I jumped and looked at Bakugo disoriented. I shook my head. I had no idea how long I was standing there. “Are you crying?”

“What?” I reached up and wiped them away. “No just caught some dust in my eyes.” I said before I went to walk away but he caught my arm.

“That’s not it. What’s wrong?” He said softer. I noticed his grip on my arm was soft and…comforting? I looked up at him.

“I just needed some encouragement from someone who didn’t give it. That’s all no big deal.” I pulled away from his grip gently. I had only walked a few feet away when he spoke up.

“Whoever they are, they’re not worth your tears. You shouldn’t need anyone’s encouragement. You strong enough on your own.” I turned to him surprised. He had his back to me, hands in his pockets. I smiled sadly.

“If only you knew who I was talking about.” I whispered.

3rd POV

Bakugo looked over his shoulder as the girl walked away. He fully turned and watched her walk away. Crossing his arms across his chest as he thought about what she said. He knew she meant for him not to hear it but he did.

“Who are you talking about?” He asked out loud. He looked off in the distance in thought. It wasn’t until footsteps caught his attention. He looked behind him to see Deku coming up behind him.

“H-hey Kacchan.” He stuttered while looking a bit tired. Bakugo remembered that Deku had known L/N since before the first day of school.

“Deku! You know L/N, right?” Bakugo asked. He looked at Bakugo strangely.

“Yes. I do. Pretty well, I guess.”

“Who is important to her? Is there anyone here that would or should be in her corner?” Deku looked at him surprised.

“Um, yeah. There is.” He said tentatively.

“Who is it?” Bakugo growled. Deku looked at him before squaring his shoulders.

“I am afraid I cannot tell you, Kacchan. And before you ask me why, it’s not my place or right to tell you. There is a reason they haven’t told anyone and I will not break their trust by outing something that isn’t mine to tell.” Bakugo just stared at him in surprise before Deku walked off.

Y/N’s POV

I breathed out in pain as I walked back into the stadium halls. I had won my first battle against Kaminari but not the second against Iida. My confidence was already down and affected my performance. I rolled my shoulder as I sat down at a table. I pulled my leg up and relaxed back for a moment.

“You did great out there L/N!” Uraraka called out. I smiled at her.

“Thanks.” I called back. I got up a little bit later and walked out. I went to walk up to the student stands. In the corner of my eye is saw green and yellow. I didn’t want to look but did. I saw dad comforting Midoriya and I gave a shaky sigh. I shook my head, biting my lip before continuing on.

*Time Skip*

I was breathing hard but I still ran. I pushed myself harder to try and get away from the robots. This training session was intense and very hard. Half the class was already out and the last few were running dry. I could hear Bakugo and Midoriya just past some rubble. A hit landed right next to me, knocking me off balance.

“Umph.” I rolled off the side and back onto my feet. I dodged an attack before vaulting over a rubble wall. I paused, hearing the robot fussing on the other side. I looked around and saw Midoriya down the street. I rolled my eyes as he waved.

“You doing okay?” He asked.

“Just fine.” I snapped at him. He reeled back at the aggression.

“Are you sure? You’ve been rather testy lately. Did something happen?” He asked concerned. I sighed heavily.

“Of course something did. You’re both just to enamored to see!” I yelled before running on. He ran after me, trying to talk to me but I ignored him. We made way into the cityscape center. I saw Bakugo across the way.

“It’s too quiet here.” Midoriya commented. As soon as he said that, he was tackled off to the side.

“Shit.” I ducked as a bit of the robot flew over my head. I stumbled back, hitting a wall. I watched as he fought the robot with ease. My chest began to fell heavy.

“Come on, Miss L/N. Push on.” I heard my dad’s voice. I scoffed.

“That’s the most encouragement you’ve given me in a month.” I said under my breath. I pushed off the wall and started to fight another robot that showed up. I heard Bakugo on the other side doing the same. In the moment I heard Midoriya scream one of my dad’s catch phrases, I stopped. I just stood there, staring off.

“I give up.” I said softly.

“L/N! Are you alright?” I heard Midoriya yell.

“Oi, dumbass. Get moving!” Bakugo called across the field.

“Miss L/N, I would advise you moving on. Stalling is not advisable in the field.” I heard my father say through the field. I let out a sob. I fell to my knees, burying my face in my hands.

“I give up!” I screamed. “I can’t do this anymore. I. Give. Up!” I screamed, crying out. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I heard yelling around me but I didn’t care not anymore. I am tired, I am hurt, and I just want this to end.

“Y/N! Look out!” I heard Bakugo’s voice close to me. I looked up right as he grabbed me and pulled me off to the side. We rolled and landed a few feet away. I looked over and saw a robot where I once was. It started to move towards us but shut down. “What’s wrong with you dumbass?” Bakugo yelled at me. I looked at him and saw a glare but concern behind it.

“Are you alright, L/N? What happened to…”

“Stay away from me!” I screamed, shuffling back away from Midoriya as he run up. I hid my face in the back of Bakugo’s shoulder as Midoriya skidded to a stop. I peeked over Bakugo’s shoulder at him and he was in shock.

“Young L/N, are you alright?” We all looked over to see All Might and Aizawa running up.

“You stay away from me too!” I pointed at my dad. I hid my face again and gripped onto Bakugo’s arm. I felt him place a hand on mine but I could tell all of them were confused. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I didn’t immediately recognize the touch so I figured it was Aizawa. I peeked out at him with teary eyes.

“Are you alright?” I nodded before retracting back.

“L/N, what wrong?” Bakugo asked. I just shook my head.

“Not here, not now.” I mumbled.

“Alright.” Aizawa said and stood. “We’re done for the day. All of you go get changed and go home. You three, meet in the classroom.”

“Why me?” Bakugo yelled.

“Because you’re the only one that L/N seems to be comfortable around right now.” Aizawa said firmly. It was silent for a moment.

“Alright.” He agreed without another argument.

I was sitting on the cabinets in the back of the classroom with Bakugo leaning next to me. Midoriya and my dad were at the front of the classroom. I had calmed down some but was still upset. I wouldn’t even look at the two. Aizawa finally came in closing the door behind him.

“Okay. What is going on?” He asked out loud. I glanced at him before looking back out the window. “Not talking. Alright. Do you two know what it is that made her act this way? That made her break down in the middle of a dangerous training session?” From the accusation in his voice I could tell he already knew.

“I am not sure. I have never seen her act like this before.” My dad said. I chuckled darkly.

“Then open your eyes or take off the blinders.” I growled. He looked at me surprised. I saw Bakugo glance between the two of us. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“I am sure I don’t know what you mean. I…” I cut him off.

“Of course you don’t!” I shot up and yelled. “You haven’t noticed one thing about me in month’s dad! Ever since…” I looked at Midoriya. “Ever since then. I have been left behind. Every time I needed encouragement from you I got nothing. Every time I needed advice from you I got nothing.”

“That can’t be, I…”

“The sports festival! I was nervous about the last round and I told you! But the only thing you said was everything will be fine, you’ll see.” I laughed with no amusement. I could hear Bakugo muttering confused behind me. I looked back at him and he had surprise and confusion written all over his face. “Yes, All Might the symbol of Peace is my dad. Unfortunately at the moment.”

“Y/N.”

“No. I’m not done. You made me despise a person that has never done anything bad to me. I haven’t got anything from you since day one. Nothing substantial at least. I don’t have a mother and no one else in this world then my dad but it seems like he’s in someone else corner only. Everyone else corner than mine. Well at least you’ve never treated me bad right? I guess it’s not all bad.” I said in a dark tone.

“Y/N…” He stood stunned.

“Speechless, huh?” I chuckled, feeling tears coming on again. “Look, I don’t want stop with your prodigy but a little acknowledgement or help from time to time. Okay? Okay.” I said before grabbing my bag and walking out. I heard someone running behind me. I looked back to see Bakugo.

“So…your All Might’s daughter, huh?”

“Yeah, the one and only.” I said. I crossed my arms over my stomach as we walked. He hummed and we walked in silence. I could feel the silent tears falling down my face.

“As awesome as that is…right now All Might is my least favorite person right now. Even less than Deku. Why was he even involved in this? Whatever. They are both little shitty…”

“Bakugo!” I yelled frustrated. He fell silent. We stopped and I took a big breath. “I know this is your own way of trying to comfort me but it’s not working, alright? I just…” I covered my face with my hands for a second before letting them drop. I looked at him. “I just want to be alone alright? I can’t, I don’t…I just can’t right now.” I paused to look at him in the face. “I don’t want to blow up on you like I did him. So please, I just want to be alone.” I could see apprehension in his eyes but I didn’t care. I turned and walked away.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.” He called after me. I could hear him take a few steps before stopping again.

“I know.” I said before turning a corner and walked away from him.

Tags: @spicy-therapist-mom

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adamworu · 4 years ago

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The Subtle Horror of Evangelion

What keeps us all hooked to Eva time and time again? You get through your initial, confused watch of either Evangelion endgame, probably sometime in your adolescence wondering what the hell it is you just watched. The original source material is suffused with unsettling imagery, and sometimes too-close-for-comfort shorts. It’s so much to process that one watch is never enough. The imagery isn’t enough, however, because the mid-to-late-90s series comes with things you’ll pick up the more you focus on certain characters’ struggles or the interesting world-building. They arise little by little with every re-watch, adding onto what interested you in Eva to begin with.

There’s always that little voice asking you “What it is that really draws me here?”

Oh. The horrors.

The tragedy of it all.

These things never leave you the second you bear witness to them, whether you become aware of them or not. You’re disturbed over it, a tad worried, no doubt, but you’re strangely hooked.

Horror works better on limitation, it’s why found footage capturing pale, ghastly, monstrosities of the deep wood will always stand as exponentially terrifying. While most all of us have taken cracks at Eva’s budget at some point, that’s what really drives these terrors home. Its low budget nature made it work.

Evangelion has commentary which forces a viewer to reflect. Most no one enjoys that. It’s the fear, however, that has its audience come back. Evangelion’s reflection alone isn’t what gives Eva it’s charm decades after its run. It’s the little things, most everyone misses, the anxieties, the terrors, all of it. Most of those things, fly over a lot of fans’ heads.

Buckle up, there’s a lot to go through…. (warning for mentions of abuse, body horror, means of suicide, nudity, blood, and gore)

Table of Contents

I. Icebergs for Dummies

Tier 1: The Tip of the Iceberg

II. The Hedgehog’s Dilemma

III. The AT-Field as a Universal Metaphor

IV. Kensuke Aida + War Idealism

V. Shinji is the Audience Surrogate

VI. Abuse in Evangelion

Tier 2: Just Below the Tip

VII. The Infamous Elevator Scene

VIII. Naoko + Casper

IX. The Other End of Existential Horror

Tier 3: The Body of The Iceberg

X. War Horrors of ‘Ambivalence’

XI. Unit-01 Berserk Scene

XII. Dummy Plugs + CNS

XIII. Kaworu + Adam’s True Power

Tier 4: Pre-Abyss

XIV. The “Nihilist” Lens

XV. The True Nature of Sync Rates

XVI. Unit 01+ MPE Gorging Scenes

XVII. Ancient Ruins of Arka

Tier 5: The Abyss

XVIII. Split Second Misato Death

XIX. Humans Are The Villains in Eva

XX. The Ultimate Paradox

XXI. Conclusion

I. Icebergs for Dummies

For those unaware, the iceberg image illustrates that things are much deeper than they appear, just like an actual iceberg. You’ve probably seen this selfsame iceberg--- separated by tiers--- a few times looking through late night internet rabbit holes (Putting it out in the open: I’m personally guilty of this!), fictional or non. It helps you understand why you’re so enticed to certain material, that you’d revisit them. The highest parts of the iceberg are the things in the material most everyone knows, the surface level stuff. The lower you go, however, the lesser known the parts of the material are. These are the things the person are aware of.

Eva has some iceberg illustrations if you look around, albeit they don’t go through the more saddening, sometimes graphic factors of Eva, only theories navigating through Eva’s universe. Evangelion is so deceptively packed with blink-and-you’ll-miss-it subtleties that if an iceberg were centered on that, the diagram would be packed. And I’m being generous as I write this.

A few ground rules, before we begin: The iceberg will deal with the more obscure and dark material as the tiers get higher rather than it only being relegated to obscure bits. The lower the tier, the higher the iceberg and the more subtler the anxieties which graduate into horrors the deeper you go.

Yes, Evangelion is occasionally horrifying. No, Evangelion is not lovecraftian. I think people use the term lovecraftian way too freely. It’s not enough to see something with (sometimes too many) limbs twisted in ungodly angles. Or legs where legs shouldn’t be. The same applies for creatures assuming forms we don’t entirely comprehend. Eva has never delved into the angels being incomprehensibly terrifying specifically because they come from a cosmic expanse.

Some of these actual horrors, big and small, hit you after adolescence, something that makes you feel deeply for the characters’ dilemmas. It’s a feeling that grows and sometimes aches, rather than fades over time for many of us.

Tier 1: The Tip of the Iceberg

II. Hedgehog’s Dilemma

III. The AT Field as a Universal Metaphor

IV. Kensuke Aida + War Idealism

V. Shinji As the Audience Surrogate

VI. Abuse in Evangelion

II. Hedgehog’s Dilemma

Evangelion has its hand in so many psychological and philosophical cookie jars, from Freud, to Maslow, Johari, as well as Dostoevsky. The very tip of the Subtle Horrors of Evangelion Iceberg is something viewers are introduced to in the fourth episode of the series. It is one of the many psychological concepts dotted throughout the original show. Out of all those psychological concepts, this is the most explicit and most recurring.

The Hedgehog’s Dilemma describes the conundrum of two hedgehogs. The closer two hedgehogs become to one another, the more they harm each other with their spines. If you want to properly live, you need the closeness and intimacy of others. By allowing yourself to be close, however, you end up at great risk of being hurt. It’s the very reason what drives those who live to become guarded. Being perpetually apprehensive or building up walls isn’t a remedy for pains, however. The Hedgehog’s Dilemma isn’t just about why people become guarded after relationships ended on bad notes. It’s about the overall inevitability of pain.

Life is a continual push-pull of relationships, because we’re all creatures of comfort. We guard ourselves to varying degrees and sometimes even tell ourselves we won’t get close again, but personal comfort is one of our most ultimate drives.

The Hedgehog’s Dilemma not only describes that harm happens to us anyway, but illustrates that because comfort is universal we seek companionship regardless.

III. The AT-Field as a Universal Metaphor

The AT-Field is the most crucial rabbit hole in understanding the largest meta-narrative of Evangelion.

If Hedgehog’s Dilemma explains the what and the why people become more or less guarded, then AT-Fields explain the how. People build up walls around themselves all the time. You walk away from someone because they crack a smile at you... and it seems off.

Because you feel an anxious pang.

That’s an AT Field.

AT-Fields, or Absolute Terror Fields bear a few metaphors, one of which being boundaries. You see it as Shinji’s fear of becoming intimate, knowing the future implications or Asuka’s masculine protest (putting up a front). We can see an excellent example of the AT Field used by Asuka, her “Wall of Jericho” in episode 9.

You also see it manifested through the angels, the strange creatures in Eva who supposedly desire to merge with Adam, their mother. Seeing this in the angels makes you realize that the AT Field is actually a metaphor for boundaries which implicates us all. In episode 22, Arael, 15th angel, seeks to understand Asuka. The angel uses its AT-Field (a beam of light) no, its boundary, to breach Asuka’s boundaries.

AT-Fields can be used to not only build up personal walls but to breach them as well. The irony of Arael’s action is that Arael’s AT-Field being erected while it floats just over Earth’s gravitational field makes it immensely similar to the Second Child; they’re both guarded.

The AT-Field is a funny sort of thing because it also sometimes explains how two people who are so alike can be guarded from one another. Sometimes you gain contempt for someone because they’re too much like your least favorable traits. You see this with Shinji and Asuka, both children without their mother desiring validation. Shinji calls Asuka a child midway into episode 9 and Asuka isn’t shy on voicing ideas of Shinji as dense or immature. They’re throwing stones in glass houses.

AT Fields are used to get the user out of dangers both physical and perceived. Sachiel, 3rd angel in the original series’ pilot episode, uses its AT-Field, in the form of flotation, to get itself from enemy fire. It never shows this until it is attacked first.

AT Fields are also responsible for one’s identity and physicality in Eva. Without the AT Field you don’t really exist. When Rei assumes the form of the person the character being cast into Instrumentality loved most in End of Evangelion, she’s causing the character to give up their AT Field. With that gone, they lose their physicality, turning into LCL (given the lovely term ‘tanged’ by fans). The ‘tanged’ individual suffers metaphorical death. Evangelion argues that in order for one to exist, others must perceive you and you must perceive you, a point best illustrated in episode 16. Since everyone is converted to LCL, no one really ‘exists.’ Rei describes this unnerving state as the inability of differentiating who you are and others, since everyone lacks a physical state without AT-Fields. Metaphorical death can be argued as worse than physical, since we all exist to make an impression of some sort. It’s what ties all the Eva cast together and the cause of their dilemmas. Validation. You can be living, yet very much forgotten or simply unknown.

There is living and there is “living.”

You can’t “die” unless someone knows you. You were never there. AT Fields are the thing that make us live, but as a drawback, prevents us from understanding each other fully. Kaworu states in episode 24 that AT Fields are the wall of the mind and the heart of the soul, an unapproachable piece of sanctuary. When all else is taken from us, all we have left is our place of respite.

I’d also like to pitch the saddening reality that the AT-Fields are what prevent us from understanding angels as a whole, our genetic siblings as scared of this world as we are. The psychological angels want to understand us, that much is true. The angels, however, use forms of communication at the expense of our boundaries. Because people greatly value boundaries it makes it hard for us to comprehend angels. The creatures are hardly malicious when you realize they wonder why we all do things that actually hurt us, as well as the fact that they do understand our minds. But, because they breach our boundaries, we become even more wary of the (mostly) unknown. Angels may be us, but the strange forms they take are something we aren’t familiar with. The feeling is mutual with angels, wondering why there are many of us, our forms and outward appearances so identical. It’s a truth as old as time that we all fear the unknown.

The anxiety of an AT Field means comprehending that there’s very little chance to 100% get others. Because we’re all wary in some degree, because we’re set in an idea or perception of someone, even if the someone in the past no longer applies. It’s not healthy for you to continue dwelling on relationships not meant to be, keeping yourself up at night asking why, because both of you have closed off each other for good. There’s always that chance the other can come back and if they do seek to understand despite past hardships, that’s good. If they don’t, all you can do is move on and accept it.

IV. Kensuke Aida + War Idealism

Kensuke is one of Shinji’s classmates, a supporting player in the series. He’s close with Toji Suzuhara, a boy who takes his anger on Shinji, after finding out that his sister has been injured during Shinji’s fight with 3rd angel Sachiel. As Suzuhara beats him down, Kensuke downplays the incident. Kensuke’s and Toji’s relationship is particularly interesting because the latter is affected to some degree by war (the war by humanity to prevent our destruction by angels). Kensuke glorifies the sentient, implicitly eldritch, multi-armored war-machines.

Kensuke can be best described as the ‘wow, cool robots’ drawing you’ve probably seen floating around. This is in relation to Gundam’s war commentary, but replace Gundam with Eva. Kensuke is enamored with the Evangelions and totally, willfully ignorant to the war horrors. Adolescents are forced to be the salvation of humanity, feeling every bit of damage to their own bodies whenever the Evangelion takes any hurt. Even after the war for humanity is long over, the pilots will be afflicted with traumas that will always hang over them.

Kensuke’s glorification is also what draws him to be Shinji’s friend. He uses Shinji’s status as a way of becoming a pilot himself by meeting up with Misato, putting himself at the cockpit of a strange creature magnificent machine.

When Toji becomes hospitalized after his battle in a hijacked Unit-03 vs. A Dummy System-controlled Unit-01, Kensuke expresses discontent at not being a pilot. He’s annoyed because “everyone” but him is a pilot.

Thing is, Kensuke isn’t heartless, just ignorant. Idealism is one of the uglier things that runs thick in the heart of Evangelion. His is one of many cases of unhealthy idealism in Eva, another example of making it difficult for those living to understand one another.

V. Shinji as the Audience Surrogate

Shinji as the audience surrogate isn’t always touched up on, but is sort of understood subconsciously by a lot of the viewers. Shinji’s character is specific, yet so generalized that him being a surrogate for the audience just… works. Don’t believe me? Shinji gets two psychological exploration-based episodes whereas Asuka and Rei each have one. Episodes 16 and 24 are both psychological angel episodes, albeit the latter is more in-series subversive. The 24th episode doesn’t involve a breach of subconscious boundary, but the pilot (Shinji) is in the hot-seat, being made aware of their issues. Leliel, 12th angel, contacts Shinji in the former of these. Both characters talk to one another, shown as a series of horizontal lines and vertical lines, sometimes intersecting. These lines are a strong reference to the Johari Window, a tool in psychology which helps someone become more aware of themselves. The Window’s quadrants are as follows

1. the part known to the self

2. the part known to others

3. the part known to the self and others

4. the part known to no one

Leliel also states that the self only exists of one perceives themselves as well as others. The angel also states that Shinji could better his reality, to which Shinji absolves himself of responsibility by arguing the horrible state of his reality. It’s a subtle pushing to Shinji and by extension the viewer into free will. Kaworu builds up on these concepts with Eva’s in-universe concept for boundaries. Free Will versus Determinism is brought up here, with the idea that AT-Fields are brought up because the living (again, not people – emotional complexities aren’t only human) will them into existence. By exercising free will, it means enduring pain, one of Shinji’s, and again the audience’s greatest fears. Any relationship has pains and conflicts. This is all a buildup of free will, determinism, self-awareness, and the Hedgehog’s Dilemma. Understanding all of these means swallowing the “pain is inevitable” pill. The problem with much of us is that we like the idea of relationships rather than being in one. We want to feel validated but without the conflict, even if the conflict can be solved. We’re all Shinji because we’re all aware to life’s hellish catch-22s, so we run. There’s times in our lives where we run as far as possible from these woes, these truths, but there’s pain in running too. It’s why escapism seems like such a viable action for some of us.

Pain is inevitable, but pain can be mitigated.

More damning evidence to Shinji being a viewer stand-in lies in either endgame of Evangelion (pun intended). In EoE, after the Komm Susser Tod sequence of everyone on Earth being tanged, we’re treated to a shot of EoE’s live audience.

We hear Shinji’s voice about his reality while he talks to Rei toward EoE’s end. There are shots of the city, of people going about their daily lives cementing that this is about us. End of Evangelion shows us a less favorable side of Shinji, a departure from the lauded end series “Congratulations” scene, in which he does understand free will rather than perpetually dwell on negatives. Shinji reacts unfavorably toward Asuka in EoE after his mother’s speech to the audience that ‘anywhere can be paradise’ and Shinji stating he doesn’t know where his happiness resides. Shinji (We) still has a ways to go if he wants to be a better person.

It’s probably why many of us are either inclined to champion Shinji or harangue him, and either reaction is fair. Many of us are aware of audience surrogates, but never to this extent. Shinji isn’t his best person, but he can be. Being his best means self-reflection. Droves of people who first were exposed to Evangelion were teens, and again many of Shinji’s woes are specific yet so generalized, hence our feelings of defense and possibly disgust.

No one likes scathing, yet accurate call-outs on their person, but they’re paramount for us to understand ourselves and others.

VI. Abuse in Evangelion

One of the worst things recurring in all of original Evangelion is a bevvy of abuses.

Abuse comes in many shapes and forms and it’s many characters’ realities. Abuse happens not because the universe ‘wills it’ (determinism aka, ‘that’s just how people are’). Abuse, be it conscious emotional absence, actual neglect, among other ungodly acts fly though the cast.

Abuse is cyclical and a lot of those doing it often get away with murder because they have power.

Much of Eva is comprised of children being forced to sort through adults’ emotional baggage. Those children become adults and the cycle continues.

We all know a Gendo. Or even perhaps a Misato. Hell, even a Ritsuko.

Anno states that Gendo’s character is of a societal meta-text, which explains many viewers’ ire in relation to the character. He’s responsible for many of the seedy goings-on in Evangelion be it the financial (see: Jet Alone’s orchestrated out-of-control nature to give NERV more funding) or abuses (see: Rei, Shinji, Ritsuko, and, Naoko). It’s for this reason why Gendo’s actions are a sore spot for a lot of fans.

Anno: I’m not sure that it’s a real father [that Gendo represents]. Well, not a father in the sense of a parent with a blood relation to his child, but more, I think, [in the sense of being] a representative of society or the system. That’s why he has that expression.

Takekuma: So, he’s kind of amorphous.

Anno: The angels are the same. I made them appear amorphous in that way because, for me, society is unclear, the enemy is unclear.

Takekuma: Gendo is [a representation of] the boundries or the pressure of society itself.

Anno: That might be it. Perhaps Gendo is [a representation of] society itself.

http://wiki.evageeks.org/Statements_by_Evangelion_Staff

After many re-watches of certain Eva episodes, it just hit me, as I’m writing this why I’m sometimes apprehensive on an adult-exclusive lens of the show. This happens a lot in adolescence and our struggles are made trivial because of the mishandled baggage. As children, you’re meant to be subservient to parental whims. You have this sort of obligation to solve their problems. Give them closure. It doesn’t even need to be parental baggage, but just from adults in general. You see the way the adults act not just with the children but with each other. You see the way Gendo justifies neglecting Shinji, objectifying Naoko and Ritsuko or Naoko’s emotional absences as a mother to her daughter (also manifested through the MAGI). It’s these immature excuses as to why they can’t extend empathy to those around them.

It’s always excuses.

Eva’s original series has always been a show about children.

Tier 2: Just Below the Tip

VII. The Infamous Elevator Scene

VIII. Naoko + Casper

IX. The Other End of Existential Horror

VII. The Infamous Elevator Scene

The Elevator Scene is a sequence that sometimes gets glossed over due to Evangelion’s fleeting budget. It took me years to realize the true gravity of the awkward silence of both the 22nd episode and its Director’s Cut version. The Director’s Cut version has Asuka abruptly jerking in the silence, but that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment speaks volumes. Understanding the scene means understanding why Asuka quietly stews in her anger. Understanding why Asuka stews means understanding Asuka from her debut to her emotional breakdown.

Asuka’s appearance in the 8th episode, Asuka Strikes!, is marked by a bold persona that carries on until the end. She isn’t shy on imparting her prowess to Shinji, stating that Units 00 as well as 01 were the prototype and the test type, respectively. Her Evangelion, Unit-02 is the finished product. She even states that she graduated from university. Despite these impressive feats so early in adolescence, the only time in which they’re noted is when Asuka talks of them. Misato takes in both Shinji and Asuka, but only ever “dotes” on Shinji. Gendo pays attention to Shinji because he pilots Unit-01, and 01 contains the soul of his late wife. Rei is the clone of Gendo’s late wife, hence Gendo’s attention and overall creepy, selfish obsession with her. Asuka and Shinji’s relationship, with Misato as their caretaker strongly mimics a Golden Child and the Second Fiddle. The only difference is, Shinji gains more attention due to Gendo’s and Misato’s respective baggage. Again, Eva is a series where children are forced to handle the baggage (with no break in the cycle) and when the child doesn’t have anything the adult particularly can clue in on, they become neglected.

That’s Asuka’s dilemma.

It’s why Asuka forces herself to grow up.

It’s why Asuka is driven to be competitive to Shinji and Rei, later growing contemptible at both.

Asuka suffers a few curses, one of which being the youngest, the inevitability of being consciously sidelined dawns on her, leading to her selfsame breakdown toward series’ end. She aligns youth with trivialization, so naturally, she’d front with the opposite. She never gets help in relation to her period. Misato and Ritsuko realize something is up with Asuka but they never really offer her the support.

There’s also the flashback to her trauma in episode 22’s beginning. She’s replaced by her mother post-Contact Experiment (which led to a deterioration of her mental health) via a doll that looks like her, red hair in pigtails. It’s the leading factor to her feigned boldness, her ego. The way in which she is marginalized in the series brings it all back.

Rei breaks the silence with a few words of compassion and all Asuka can do is express disbelief. She mistakes compassion for contempt.

For pity.

The idea that anyone would extend kindness, especially now of all times, is unbelievable.

Asuka also experiences a dilemma here, a dilemma those like her face. She already knows what it means to be vulnerable and deeply hurt, but she needs to make herself vulnerable because now, more than ever, she needs the support. Being vulnerable will cause past traumas to flood back in full force, but by stewing she deprives herself of any support. Rei offers that support, but a few words of support in a wave of trivialization can’t help but feel a bit too strange.

Asuka’s greatest anxiety is realized in the twenty second episode. It’s of being and staying second fiddle, that she’s always been set up to fail. Even 2 episodes after the fact, in which she actually starves herself does she realize once more how she’s permanently ‘below’ others.

Asuka’s curse finds itself in real life, and it’s for that reason why I believe some find themselves resonating with her. Asuka’s gradual descent into bitterness is something I find myself waking up some nights thinking about after 7 years going through Eva; hers is a cautionary tale on being emotionally distant to cries of a damaged youth. Casually imparted knowledge of past achievements, and the competitive attitude mixed with embitterment, some of which from a genuine place but also a product of neglect. We were forced to play second fiddle, we forced ourselves to grow up to feel more legitimate, forced to carry an ire that stews because it seems no one listens.

VIII. Naoko+Casper

The late Naoko Akagi is a woman of multitudes. Those multitudes are compartmentalized into the 3 MAGI. They are Balthasar, Melchior, and Casper.

Casper shows itself to be the most prominent aspect of Naoko’s personality, her as a woman. Ritsuko states that, after the defeat of Iruel, 11th angel, that Casper is the part of her mother which remained that way to the end.

Balthasar and Melchior have been bested, be it by rival MAGI, or Iruel’s assault. This calls back to the fact that Naoko’s other facets aren’t anywhere near as prominent. Naoko has cited her own emotional negligence, of only showing emotions should it ever benefit her.

Casper on 3 occasions fights tooth and nail, Iruel’s assault, an attack by multiple MAGI in End of Evangelion or the defiance of Ritsuko activating the self-destruct sequence. Ritsuko does this to seek vengeance against Gendo for coming to the immense realization that he never genuinely cared for her. Gendo has always used Ritsuko for her body. This would destroy NERV, meaning killing herself and Gendo.

Then you realize why Casper overrides the sequence.

Casper’s stubborn behavior wasn’t actually to defend NERV but to protect Gendo. Casper’s defiance aka Naoko’s emotional absence toward her daughter allowed Gendo to kill a bewildered, rightfully angered Ritsuko.

The saddest part of Casper’s, no, Naoko’s choice is that Naoko got away with murder. Evangelion is a story about children dealing with the selfishness of adults and the adults never receiving justice for their wrongdoings. The relationship between Ritsuko and Naoko is an excellent example that this doesn’t just implicate the young pilots. Ritsuko dies in End of Evangelion with the truth that her mother, as a woman, in the end chose the man who manipulated both of them.

IX. The Other End of Existential Horror

Some spend their whole lives trying to make a mark. Others can’t help but be known.

People get smart sometimes to get themselves out of a current situation. Kaworu and Rei’s existences are such that they’re deadlocked from living. Their existences are the product of an experiment, to be later heavily watched and raised as the Last Messenger. The latter is the result of Gendo’s obsession with his late wife.

Kaworu and Rei’s existential crises are opposite from the rest of the cast; while others do their damndest to become known, they cannot be unknown. Rei’s character centering more around her identity than other characters is also initially and sneakily alluded in the opening.

The Johari Window is a tool encouraging self-awareness in the person, alluded to twice in the show, with the second time being in the sixteenth episode. Both usages of that illustration, for Rei, and Shinji drive home crucial aspects of the meta-text.

This would also tie Rei to Shinji in End of Evangelion forcing Shinji to reflect on his own awareness and will. Rei is an astute, young girl whose arc is about her personal relationship with identity, something she is all too familiar with due to her objectified nature. Rei’s arc is even more so entrenched in identity than other characters that she is one of the characters imparting personal and universal realities.

Ayanami Rei’s existence from start to finish is inundated with the issues of others, causing her to internalize being always expendable. In Rei’s Poem in episode 14, it becomes clear that she sees herself based on usage. She likens herself to a field of flowers, which slyly alludes to the Dummy System’s “parts” 9 episodes later, other Reis.

Rei is seen as malleable vessel which houses thoughts rather than her own person and she can’t do anything about it. So she resigns to her reality. Even if she does tell off Gendo in End of Evangelion for his objectifying, she’s not even out of the woods. She never will be.

I used to think Rei’s “slap” to the face to the man with the (most) baggage was empowering. Then I learned about abuse during adolescence, how kids who lack a support system act while away from their abusers. Even saying an emphatic “fuck you” to your abusers isn’t enough to be a happy ending. Rei is a girl who lacks a support system and she suffers from it. Start to finish.

Kaworu’s crises are much trickier to pinpoint because there’s so little to work with. He doesn’t get an episode dealing with personal, subconscious explorations. Getting his character means first getting how Evangelion re-contextualizes what “Ode to Joy” symbolizes. It also means understanding the AT-Field and most people won’t pick that up on an initial foray. Or maybe even a second. Most people don’t pick up that the AT Field implicates anything living and physical or its metaphor for boundaries and identity. There’s the common misconception that Evangelion is a “human” show.

Kaworu marks off his appearance humming “Ode to Joy” while Shinji wonders who to turn to. It’s a song generally known for its jovial nature, but most importantly, Ode to Joy is:

known also as the “Choral” Symphony. Its finale is a musical setting of Friedrich von Schiller ’s “Ode to Joy,” a hymn to the unity and freedom of humanity.

http://www.dictionary.com/browse/ninth-symphony

The Choral Symphony assumes a more horrific context later on. Kaworu is the last messenger and what his action is would lead to the mass annihilation to lilin/human or angels. ‘Unity of man’ is changed in Eva’s context – it marks either unity of man or the death of man. It doesn’t matter who Kaworu allows unity to, because his hands would be stained with death anyway. Then you realize why Kaworu deploys his most powerful AT Field during his descent to Heaven’s Door.

This is his reality.

Kaworu’s status as the Angel of Free Will isn’t about him being the only complex angel, as a lot of people think. It’s about being the sole individual handing that freedom to others.

You realize his terrifying dilemma goes to the tune of being feared for his own existence as an angel (which he notes to Shinji) and not being able to properly live.

Sometimes you ”hurt” people by existing.

Sometimes people hate you for the simple act of existing.

Kaworu’s and Rei’s terror is the other end of existential horror, that you can’t help but forced to be known. Sometimes you have knowledge but aren’t allowed to do much with it.

Tier 3: The Body of The Iceberg

X. War Horrors of ‘Ambivalence’

XI. Unit-01 Berserk Scene

XII. Dummy Plugs + CNS

XIII. Kaworu + Adam’s True Power

X. War Horrors of ‘Ambivalence’

Episode 18 is where anxieties graduate into horrors both implied and visceral. Unease hangs over the episode, with the mystery of Unit-04’s disappearance and tests being done on Unit-03. Misato tells Shinji that because tests would be done, there’d be a pilot there. Misato uneasily withholds this info from Shinji and Kensuke breaks the silence with his recurring desire of being a pilot, still ignorant of the war horrors. There’s a subtlety that Shinji picks up on with Toji but not enough to put two and two together: that the big-eater himself isn’t feeling so hot.

The continual chirp of cicadas and birds nor the peel of the school bell are enough to break the unease of the viewer or of Toji. Toji goes from indirectly being affected by war vs angels to being chosen, drafted even, a child at the first line of defense for the apocalypse. We get a flashback of him beating down Shinji, before it cuts back to present day Toji. He will be in Shinji’s shoes.

Toji balls a fist, a recurring theme in Eva, to the tune of “What is your hand for?” Toji is finally about to take things into his own hands.

Asuka takes a few cracks at Shinji to Hikari that he hasn’t quite gotten the memo, but when Shinji asks her even she’s halted in words.

Then the day comes.

Tests are being done and suddenly Unit-03 goes rogue with Toji in her (note the Evangelions have the souls of the pilots’ mothers, save for Rei). Unit-03’s’s strange behavior is revealed to be the work of the 13th angel, Bardiel. Shinji’s ignorance is made worse by Misato’s absence (with Misato telling Ritsuko she’d tell Shinji the pilot’s info after the tests). Units 00 through 02 are sent out for the new threat and Shinji sees this new threat. Anxiety rises.

The song “Marking Time Waiting for Death” accentuates the anxiety. Unit-03’s silhouette eerily contrasts with the sun, her body slightly hunched and approaching slowly.

Fear washes over Shinji when he deduces that with an Evangelion inside, there must be a pilot.

Yet he still doesn’t know.

The other pilots are aware, and show reluctance to the revelation. A hijacked Unit-03 sets herself on Asuka, Rei, and even strangling Shinji. Shinji allows the angel-hijacked-being to strangle him, because killing another human being is simply horrific.

Eva has its hand in the war morals cookie jar here because Shinji stands at a conundrum, to other let this creature take his life or to murder flesh and blood. This dilemma goes double-time in war. Gendo asks why Shinji hasn’t dealt with the 13th yet, with a somewhat horrified Shinji pleading about the pilot. Gendo commands for the unfinished Dummy System to override Shinji’s controls and then suddenly...silence….

The Dummy Controlled Unit-01 springs back and we’re treated to a close-up of Unit-03/Bardi3l being strangled.

A nauseating crunch sounds and the unit goes limp. A controlled Unit-01 proceeds to raise hell on the incapacitated enemy, resulting in the unit’s blood and guts flowing through the streets. NERV’s personnel can’t do anything save for become fearful at the Dummy System’s capabilities. Terrible, visceral noises sound one by one as blows strike, as the unit’s severed limbs and blood splatters riddle the urban battlefield. Shinji hears every second, every squelch and splat.

Imagine the pain of 03’s pilot.

But the terrors don’t cease here.

01 doesn’t stop at just raising hell on the incapacitated 03, and we’re treated to another close-up shot of 01 tightly holding onto 03’s entry plug, before crushing it.

Somewhere away, Misato receives news that Unit-03 has been dispatched as an angel. Shinji feels the weight of having actually killed someone, before Misato actually breaks the news that the pilot is not only alive but that the greatly injured pilot is his classmate.

It never really hit me until now how this scene holds another horrifying subtlety. Compare this to episode 3, where Toji’s first interaction with Shinji involved him punching him, the very scene playing at this episode’s beginning. The 18th episode ends now with ,Toji and Shinji are both joined in the same camp, of children emotionally and physically marred by war, not able to fully control their situations.

XI. Unit-01 Berserk Sequence

Shinji stands in a situation where he can no longer take the terrors aligned with the Evangelion. He’s gone from sustaining injuries great and small from combat with the eldritch angels, to indirectly harming a friend through it. He resigns from his position as a pilot, understandably running away even with the approach of the 14th angel.

After a talk with Kaji about how he can control his future and he only, Shinji once again puts himself at the forefront of further pains. He must once more thrust himself to the terrors that align with the war-machines whilst struggling with other traumas.

During his fight against Zeruel, his Evangelion dies out and it all floods back to him. Shinji once again finds himself at a position of no power, frantically pressing at his controls to no avail.

He can only hear blow after blow of the 14th’s onslaught. He and Unit-01 are at their most vulnerable.

Until Unit-01 springs back.

W hat follows is the famous Berserk sequence, a scene whose terror can be thanks to Evangelion’s low budget.

We see the Evangelion in all her terror and the sort of off-ness that carries in this scene.

Episode 19 has no problems on treating us to front-row tickets to terror.

Unit-01 snatches part of Zeruel’s appendage and adds it to her mass. A sickening squelch sounds and her new appendage contorts into place in an instant.

She moves over to her incapacitated, angelic meal and doesn’t hesitate to chow down. The shots feel too personal yet nowhere near in the sense of the show’s meta-textual reflections. It’s almost like stumbling on a cryptid and when she shoots a look at the viewer, it feels as if she’s looking at us, like we’ve interrupted her dinner. Or perhaps she did finish the meal... and she’s in the mood for seconds? Perhaps even thirds?

The bizarre and eldritch nature of the Evangelions goes full force with this imagery. Episodes 2 and 16 laid the foundation of how off the Evangelion Unit-01 was with how she openly mutilates her targets. Or even the unsettling roar of Unit-01 that’s not entirely bestial. The sound is straddles a line between the blood-curdling bestial and the human. But here? Eva Unit-01’s position, from her hunched figure, to her more feral position as she feasts, feels far too organic...and far too human.

The Evas themselves aren’t human, but the souls housed within are. Eva’s souls are souls of the respective pilots’ mothers, an example of the mother and child symbolism omnipresent in Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Shinji’s mother is Yui and as we go through the series, we realize the s2 engine appliance was intentional. An s2 engine offers infinite stores of energy and this is needed for Instrumentality. With the s2 engine within her grasp and the fact that Evas don’t subsist on anything, this would make the consumption of 14th completely recreational.

It’s super tempting to frame this scene as containing some abomination that now stands unchained and indiscriminate in its targets, but it isn’t. It’s sort of understandable because Units 00 and 02 don’t come close to exhibiting this sort of behavior nor were they in this circumstance. Neither Unit-00 nor 02 have any desires in regard to Instrumentality. In the end, we should look to Yui and her own endgame, because Yui’s running the show here.

XII. Dummy Plugs + CNS

Ritsuko states the Dummy Plugs are machines which imitate pilot’s thinking. There’s a bit more than the possibility of this being 100% AI due to the apparatus Rei is in.

This very likely implies the respective person’s thought processes added with AI programmed in a way which best “describes” the pilot (basically how they are perceived). In episode 17, Rei is situated in this apparatus strongly resembling the central nervous system, the brain and the spinal cord.

{The central nervous system CNS is responsible for integrating sensory information and responding accordingly. It consists of two main components:

1. The spinal cord serves as a conduit for signals between the brain and the rest of the body. It also controls simple musculoskeletal reflexes without input from the brain.

2. The brain is responsible for integrating most sensory information and coordinating body function, both consciously and unconsciously. Complex functions such as thinking and feeling as well as regulation of homeostasis are attributable to different parts of the brain.

https://mcb.berkeley.edu/courses/mcb135e/central.html

Ritsuko imparts the unsettling revelation about Rei and by extension the Dummy Plant itself (after Misato coerced her into learning about Rei). The Reis are the core of the Dummy Plugs (and the System used to brutalize a hijacked Unit-03 and its trapped pilot). This scene adds more to the extent of Rei’s objectification, of her being replaced. It adds on to Rei III’s comment of being ‘the third.’

Rei isn’t savage by any means but the sheer brutality of Dummy System’d Unit-01 5 episodes prior may hint at her straightforward nature.

I’d like to pitch that Ritsuko’s approach to Rei’s Dummy Data was also the product of her subtle animosity toward Rei. When she refers to the Dummy Plug as a machine which mimics human thinking, she’s talking about Rei. She also refers to her similarly in episode 23 by referring to Rei as spare parts, as if Rei herself is some soulless machine whose parts can be switched out if need be. This could also call back to Rei’s poem, in which she calls herself a vessel which holds human thoughts.

Another question remains: how does Kaworu play into this?

The MPEs (the Mass Production Evangelion series) use Kaworu’s Dummy data, meaning that there are cloned Kaworus stored off somewhere, perhaps floating with soulless smiles the same as Rei has.

Treated as spare parts.

This also implies that Kaworu is more or less reduced to an object.

What’s more disturbing is the nature of the MPEs gratuitous method of ravaging and mutilating Unit-02 and by extension Asuka.

Kaworu hasn’t ever demonstrated any degree of malice, so this can’t really insinuate a ‘Kaworu is secretly evil’ narrative. But this can tie back to a recurring theme of humans fearing and despising angels. It’s because of this that the revelation of our genetically identical nature or the fact that they can comprehend our psychology is framed in-show as kind of shocking. It is because we’re so disturbed at the angels’ existence (or anything else we don’t comprehend) that we view them as inherently savage in nature. Kaworu’s quick-to-perceive personality most likely translated itself along with the AI. This would also rule in the somewhat strategic way in which the MPEs act against Asuka, exploiting her attack patterns through surprise attacks.

Some of Kaworu’s as well as Rei’s Dummy Data are the product of universal (Kaworu) and personal (Rei) contempt by people. Let that sink in.

XIII. Kaworu’s + Adam’s True Power

The bottom of the fridge horror portion of this iceberg is something that has subtly plagued me for years. We’ve only ever caught glimpses of Kaworu’s abilities in his debut episode. I picked up on it little by little with each re-watch of the episode, with every other time his abilities dawning on me. If I wasn’t focusing on how his character fits in the greater framework of Evangelion, I was cluing in on his abilities.

One of his abilities is being able to block out light, magnetism, and subatomic particles. Some of the forces which make up the universe. This witnessed by the viewer when he realizes the whole of humanity’s welfare hangs by a thread, due to the coexistence of angels and Adam.

Adam.

Adam’s soul lies within Kaworu. Adam. Who utilized an Anti-AT Field which caused Second Impact. An Anti-AT Field, which killed off much of the Katsuragi Crew in Antarctica.

This makes Kaworu the most powerful angel in the original Evangelion series.

Eva has shown that ownership of an angel’s soul (or partially, if you’re onboard the Rei I is in Unit-00 theory) allows the person to inherit the angel’s abilities through Rei. Rei blocks off Kaworu’s immensely powerful field with one of her own, canceling out both as a result. As we know, AT Fields for people are a figurative affair. People lack the physiology to exhibit a physical AT Field because they don’t have cores like angels do. Angels’ souls when possessed by humans have a sort of ability to circumvent parts of human physiology (if you’re looking for the whole package, you should eat angel’s flesh too). Rei also shows the ability to float, implied in episode 24 and shown explicitly in End of Evangelion.

But this raises a few questions about the last messenger is the ability to block out some of the forces of the universe Adam’s powers or Kaworu’s? Another ability that continues to plague me the more I think about it is Kaworu’s AT-Field usage on Heaven’s Door to bypass its lock.

We haven’t actually seen Adam’s other powers (if the angel has any) because the it’s anti-AT Field was halted via Lance of Longinus. Other than its ethereal appearance in flashbacks, we only see an incapacitated Adam in embryonic form. That’s it. We don’t know if Adam exhibits any other powers due to this impediment. If Adam does have more powers, this would add onto both the fridge horror factor of Adam and Kaworu.

Tier 4: Pre-Abyss

XIV. The “Nihilist” Lens

XV. The True Nature of Sync Rates

XVI. Unit 01+ MPE Gorging Scenes

XVII. Ancient Ruins of Arka

XIV. The “Nihilist” Lens

There’s something that implicates the whole cast. Something that goes beyond the meaning of the AT-Field, and the all-too-known Hedgehog’s Dilemma.

Eva is filled to the very brim with psychological concepts, but there’s one thing which ties this all together. It goes much larger than the desire to become validated or cycles of abuse and unresolved issues to a newer generation.

Free Will Vs. Determinism ties the entire cast together and is disturbing in its own right. It not only ties the cast together but also contributes to Eva’s meta-narrative.

Episode 16’s sequence with Leliel, Shinji, and the Johari Window gives little breadcrumbs to this psychological dilemma. Leliel teaches Shinji about his own identity as well as slowly ushering him to a sense of self-awareness. Leliel also attempts to usher Shinji out of filtering reality with only convenient parts. Shinji argues that he can’t really be held culpable for his actions, because the one and only reality is that reality is awful, bar none. Not his reality, but reality as a whole. This deterministic stance becomes ever more blatant 8 episodes later with the appearance of Nagisa Kaworu.

Kaworu’s designation is the angel of free will. The irony of this stands in the fact that Kaworu isn’t the only angel who can exhibit free will (with some of the angels before him taking the time to try comprehending people). Kaworu’s status comes from his identity as the last messenger, bringing about freedom for one species (humans/lilin or angels) at the expense of the other. Kaworu knows his reality well and in the end, seeks to better the reality of those around him. Eva doesn’t romanticize the prospect of free will, however, because Kaworu is so aware of his own person and how he can hurt those around him that it greatly bothers him.

The metatext doesn’t just position Shinji as being in the wrong, but also the audience. Remember the point I made before about Shinji being the audience substitute? It’s further hammered home from the series’ tail end and into End of Evangelion.

“That’s just the way things are.” is a common response to things in life we feel resigned on changing, because we don’t know how to change them. This quote is a parallel to Shinji’s “humans aren’t made to float!” in episode 16.

Shinji does know how to change much of his reality, but by doing so he’d be pushed into free will. Free Will is the solution and it means holding yourself accountable rather than believe that it’s everyone else with the problem. With the idea that you can change your reality, it offers you the opportunity to love yourself.

If you love yourself, then it becomes much easier to love others.

Eva’s free will and determinism metatext hammers home the extension of empathy.

Shinji/the viewer’s greatest problem is that because we don’t love ourselves it makes it difficult to extend the love to everyone else. Shinji’s love translates as idealism. Because of his unhealthy idealism, he is hindered from understanding people.

By ascribing your beliefs from determinism to free will, it opens your mind to an entire world of possibilities, but therein lies the terror. It is because of these possibilities that Shinji and by extension, the viewer, likely fears free will. Shinji finds ways make himself validated, but with free will, the argument could be made that it doesn’t matter. There’s the anxiety-crippling likelihood that none of it actually matters, because your existence doesn’t matter. If we’re going on this bent, acts of making an adequate impression on others are acts of personal denial. In the end, these are what they are, possibilities.

The greatest terror of it all is that we don’t know.

User power-chords makes an excellent point about the inherent darkness of an internal locus of control.

User power-chords posits the idea of existential absurdity for Shinji not as a certainty but a possibility. There’s always a likelihood that our desires to comprehend the world around us, to find ultimate understanding are in vain.

Cheesy as it sounds, people fear ambiguity because we seek a satisfying end. We don’t just seek answers. We want outside closure and inner peace, but we won’t always get it. It’s why we rationalize relationships that end on bad notes. Sometimes you worry about your falling-outs...and it hurts. You never got the answers your wanted so this pain carries, for months, sometimes even for years. Dwelling on the issue serves no purpose other than to keep that hurt with you. The best thing to do sometimes is to find your own closure, your own meaning.

No, Evangelion isn’t actually pro-nihilism, but it presents us with that likelihood. That’s what makes this aspect of the narrative so terrifying: The consideration that we find meaning in the meaningless.

XV. The True Nature of Sync Rates

The nature of injuries and having them in adds onto the innate horror --be it war or otherwise-- and themes of the Evangelion. The severity of the injury is based on how high the pilot’s sync ratio is. An average rate while sustaining damage will bring hurt to the actual pilot in the respective spot. Some examples:

Sachiel makes multiple headblows to Unit-01 and Shinji in episode 2, causing head trauma.

Ramiel’s, (5th angel), particle beam attack in episode 6, an attack so severe that Shinji needed medical care.

Unit-00 and Rei being infected by a Bardiel hijacked Unit-03 in episode 18. Toji’s condition in episode 18 stands as a large example of the innately disturbing nature of sustained injuries.

Toji’s condition becomes all the more nauseating when you see Evangelion parts and blood flow through Tokyo-3.

Toji could feel every last second of strangulation, body blow, and feel the unspeakable pain of his arm being severed. Let that sink in.

Asuka receives the worst of these considering the nature of her sync rate being high. The higher the rate the more kept the damage is. The circumstances behind Asuka getting the worst of it goes back to the AT-Field. Asuka understood the meaning of the AT-Field, that the more you open yourself up to others, the more hurt you become. The realization dawns on Asuka as her mother from within the Evangelion shields her from the onslaught of JSSDF troops.

It’s then that Asuka finally comprehends what the Absolute Terror Field is. Despite her emotional needs being neglected, realizing she’s set up to fail, and going comatose she still goes on.

Asuka, despite everything, takes a chance and opens her heart knowing the double-edged nature of the AT Field. What happens next?

Asuka took a chance.

She opened her heart...

...and she got hurt all because she opened herself.

XVI. Unit 01+MPE Gorging Sequences

The brutality of both Unit-01 and the Mass Production Evas holds three layers: of visual horror, implied horror, and thematic horror. Unit-01, after taking Zeruel’s s2 engine into herself, proceeds to then brutalize the 14th angel by way of still gorging on it. The feeding was entirely recreational considering Evangelions don’t subsist on food to function. This was more about the sheer act of brutality for brutality’ sake.

The Mass Production Evas also fall under this category, the way in which they deal with Asuka after incapacitating her with a replicated Lance of Longinus is also sadistic and gratuitous. They also proceed to gorge on Asuka, her fate made worse through the simple fact that her sync rate is heightened.

The MPEs don’t even swiftly finish her off. She is in a state of tremendous and unimaginable pain. They fly above her slowly, circling above her mangled Eva.

They are almost mocking her as she can do nothing, save for writhe. Asuka’s seething, repeated “I’ll kill you...I’ll kill you….” is then silenced by the MPEs spearing her down.

The brutality doesn’t end there, as we see much darker implications of the damage sustained toward the end of the first half of End of Evangelion.

Shinji bears witness to the implications after seeing the decimated remains of Unit-02 being carried off by some of the Mass Production Units. The sickening reality of it all dawns on him and he is once more exposed to the woes of war and the nightmarish aspect tied of the Evangelions.

XVII. Ancient Ruins of Arqa

We’re ending the pre-abyssal end of the iceberg with Evangelion’s original proposal.

Eva’s proposal, a far cry to the show today, had a more sci-fi angle to it. Psychological concepts weren’t exactly pitched nor was it self-aware. The angels weren’t even referred to as the angels, but as the Apostolos. Instead of the 18 we were presented with in the original show and the movies, there were 28 Apostolos.

The Apostolos designs stand as testament to how far of a departure the proposal was to the final cut. They look far more menacing than the more amorphous, much softer defined, beady-eyed angels we’re used to. To top it all off, the Apostolos were the de facto villains of Evangelion’s prototype pitch. The Apostolos in the Proposal, toward the end, proceed their onslaught as a group rather than the series’ one by one. Toward the series’ end, the 12 strongest Apostolos begin their assault on North America, annihilating the continent in its entirety.

Only 12 of the creatures laid waste to a singular continent.

Episode 24: "Now, the Promised Time"

Rei breaks down. Her secrets are revealed. At last awakened, the twelve strongest Apostolos descend from the Moon. Both Eva Unit-06 and the American continent vanish completely. Humans acknowledge their helplessness in the face of the Apostolos' crushing power. The promised time, when people will return to nothing, approaches. A human drama in the depths of despair.

Episode 25: "Arqa, the Promised Land"

The laboratory holds the ancient ruins of Arqa, which have become key. In order to stop the twelve Apostolos, the United Nations' head members annul the Human Instrumentality Project and resolve to destroy the Apostolos. Shinji's father objects. Shinji and the others stay at the laboratory for Rei. A drama of people conflicting over incongruous objectives.

https://wiki.evageeks.org/Resources:Neon_Genesis_Evangelion_Proposal_(Translation)

The aforesaid creatures were so powerful in the original pitch that Human Instrumentality and the ancient ruins of Arqa would be the way of stopping the onslaught.

Tier 5: The Abyss

XVIII. Split Second Misato Death

XIX. Humans Are The Villains in Eva

XX. The Ultimate Paradox

XVIII. Split Second Misato Death

As the last and most explicit aspect of original Evangelion, it would only make sense that EoE specific content would take its place in Tier 5. End of Evangelion is a 90 + minute tour de force with disturbing imagery back-to-back. Split Second Misato Death refers to one of the most unsettling images sprinkled all throughout the movie. Here are a few of the many examples of EoE’s building up on Evangelion’s ugliest parts.

Everyone cites the infamous hospital scene not even 5 minutes into the film as the first proof, but user power-chords has pointed out, Shinji has actually attempted suicide (refer to the ‘Free Will v. Determinism’ part of the iceberg.)

After Misato is mortally wounded and sends Shinji off in an elevator not long after, the JSSDF blow up that part of NERV. A few people have pointed out the most disturbing facet of this scene: through freeze-framing that you can actually see Misato’s body during.

The JSSDF scene partway through End of Evangelion in which NERV personnel are summarily annihilated.

For those missing the small detail of Shinji’s attempted suicide ,Shinji’s depressed state is made more clear when the JSSDF locate him. When they do they attempt to kill him execution style. Shinji doesn’t move.

“I don’t want to die…!” during the JSSDF’s assault, Asuka is awoken from comatose state. She is protected by her mother via an AT-Field by Unit-02. She gains back her self-preservation after this realization, and multitude of images play. One of them is an extremely gruesome close-up of Asuka’s face. (extreme body horror warning, proceed with caution)

The Komm Susser Tod scene beginning with Shinji strangling Asuka in harsh coloring, Naoko’s same action toward Rei plays right after. A few disturbing child drawings follow after, predominantly featuring death. (seizure warning, body horror warning)

End of Evangelion’s flooring nature comes from the fact that it builds up on the subtly horrific and makes these terrors explicit. Whatever existed beyond closed doors becomes now available for us to see,

XVIII. Humans Are The Villains in Eva

At the penultimate point of the abyss lies a horror as old as much of time. Of the humane being more disgusting than the monsters.

That we can be monstrous.

This fact becomes known with the appearance of the JSSDF as dispatched by SEELE, methodically mowing down NERV personnel with little to no weaponry of their own. We’re treated to NERV’s personnel in their hallways, some forced with the moral dilemma of leaving their own to die while surviving or helping their own while both end up being gunned down.

It becomes apparent that SEELE has been gradually, intentionally chipping away at NERV’s Defense Budget, getting rid of the (little) competition they have after the defeat of the Last Messenger.

There’s a degree of contempt and casual sadism that comes with how they kill the personnel. In one instance, a NERV worker surrenders to the JSSDF, before being killed off in execution style in the distance (one headshot plus two extra shots for good measure).

When you look back at it, this sort of sheer, unabashed brutality wasn’t felt about the angels. Human attitude about the angels is largely fearing, anxious. This attitude accentuated itself through a sometimes nervous soundscape. Of observing these weird, ghastly creatures as they creep and swim. And the feeling’s mutual. The problem is that we don’t know.

But here? We do know.

When the JSSDF move in, the anxiety of angels graduates to the full-force dread of creatures that have killed before. The greatest enemy to humanity has always been with them all along, forcing them to a catch-22. The dread falls on Maya because she understands this perfectly. NERV has only ever shot at targets rather than living flesh…

...and SEELE knows this.

SEELE’s slow, but sure suppression of NERV’s budget is kicking a man while he’s down, but the man in question is a child instead. The JSSDF have more than enough firepower, calling it overkill goes beyond an understatement.

The JSSDF demonstrate the lack of remorse further with the discovery of Third Child, Shinji Ikari. One of the members presses the barrel to Shinji’s head before Misato steps in and kills the members.

The JSSDF isn’t the only damning evidence of how ugly members of humanity can be, however.

Humanity’s on-occasion grossness shows itself in small ways throughout the series, in dislike and conscious emotional distance for individuals, or beliefs of the angels being unintelligent and/or savage. Other times it manifests fiscally, in orchestrating more ethical approaches to stopping certain destruction to go seemingly haywire in order for NERV to receive more funding. This all due to a rival company of NERV challenging the very idea for its usage of child soldiers.

The worst of this damning fact is that many of the morally repugnant members exist on a higher echelon of society. There are Gendos running around, doing as they so please and they’re the tip of their echelon iceberg.

XIX. The Ultimate Paradox of Evangelion

“Anywhere can be paradise as long as you have the will to live.”

We’re treated to these words as Shinji finds himself on shores surrounded by an isolate hellscape, with Asuka next to him. The strange and altogether horrific nature of End of Evangelion has gotten fans believing on End of Evangelion’s endgame was in certain, nihilistic. But Eva dipping its hand in the likelihood of meaning in the existentially meaningless isn’t even the ultimate terror of Eva’s self-aware universe, nor is it the tendency for man to become contemptible towards itself.

Evangelion greatest terror is the paradoxical nature of free will.

Yui’s words to her son as she drifts off into the ever-expanding cosmos, her status as a deity realized, is that paradise is universal. EoE assumes this unconventionally positive approach to a whole series worth of characters’ woes. The issue is: finding paradise is ultimately conditional.

Free Will’s paradoxical nature is what gives credence to the ongoing Free Will vs. Determinism dilemma. People can use their free will to take away yours entirely and this is most evident with Rei. Her existence is the result of a man’s unhealthy attachment to his wife, her lack of self-preservation the result of being conditioned as a multi-purpose vessel; her desire to merge with Lilith to become an omnipresent mother-figure was not hers. The nature of disallowing free will exists on a spectrum, as people can use their free will not to take away the whole of others’ freedoms, but to disallow them proper emotional growth. The adults around Asuka weren’t around for her during the series, leading to her eventual downfall.

Unit-01, throughout much of the second part of EoE holds the power to give or deny people’s physicality due to her status of having both Fruits of Life (the s2 engine held by angels) and Wisdom (from the Lance of Longinus merged with the Eva earlier on). This gives Unit-01 her deity status and while within Lilith-Rei, Shinji realizes that not everyone would be there in his life, that he can’t be in the center of others’ lives. It’s for that reason why he denies people’s physicality (“They can all just die.”), which turns people into LCL.

Shinji gives allows people the ability to come back from Instrumentality after realization arises that without other people, there’s no way to tell if Shinji, himself exists or not. Kaworu and Rei also give him the reality that with people back, pain will become an inevitability once more. With all the souls gathered by Lilith-Rei, they are released after her death.

With the souls of those cast into Instrumentality dispersed, those turned into LCL now hold the ability to come back from Instrumentality if they so choose.

While the idea of anywhere being paradise rings true, it’s not entirely satisfying to say that EoE is unconventional in its uplifting message to the viewer. Evangelion is at its core a cautionary tale. It warns the viewer into extensions of empathy and openness that others would properly live. This goes double for those with power. Without that compassion, we’ll have Asukas, Misatos, Ristukos, as well as Reis, those in the world whose downfalls come from emotional absences, neglect, objectification, and forced baggage. We would have Shinjis, those wanting to be at the nexus of others’ importance because they were deprived while young.

Kindness is a powerful thing and the lack of compassion present in all of Eva implicates most everyone. It leads to yet more abusive cycles, with the only thing breaking that cycle being a hand for those in need.

XX. Conclusion

What more can be said over this juggernaut which is a host to a bevvy of darkness? Evangelion is testament that anxieties and horror don’t need to start out as blatantly shocking or visceral to make an impact years down the line. They also don’t need to be out in the open to initially hook you either. You pick up on a few anxieties as well as horrors and you realize deep down, there must be more, which drives many of us to engage in this often times unabashedly dark source material.

Some of us are doing it later in the throes of adolescences, others are doing so well into their 20s, possibly dipping into their 30s. Point is, it draws in a lot of us and for a lot of us, it doesn’t ever let go.

Some of its charm could be chalked to the visceral ways in which characters interact. Even after years of re-watches, I’m still learning new things about the child soldiers, and I’m quite sure there’s others finding small details. There’s also the possibility of Eva’s approach to terror. I think Evangelion “humanized” its horror. It didn’t make horror a universally human feeling, but made it so that the true big bads looking to cause apocalypse weren’t actually the eldritch. Many of the angels are more or less lost kids looking for their mother (I still think Ramiel’s “singing” in episode 5 was it calling for its mother!).

With those newer details after 20+ years, there will be more added to the iceberg. Hell, there should be more added to the iceberg. This iceberg is the tip of an even greater iceberg. I’m still learning about their adults and their desires as well, how cyclical their actions are. For others, the draw-in factor lies in its low budget. Personally, it’s all of these for me: the low budget helped cement these darker aspects of the series due to horror and the genre’s overall relationship with limitation. It works best on limitation and had Eva worked with a much higher budget, I don’t think the content would be as effective, or perhaps it’d be much more difficult to make it so.

Evangelion is such a well-done, deceptively compact series that each lens a fan assumes has its own interesting rabbit hole. Your circumstance shapes the experience, and this too involves how you navigate the series’ menagerie of terrors.

I’d also like to thank the reader for getting through the largest rabbit hole in Evangelion. I’d also like to thank you for getting through the whole of this meta from a fan who slowly began to resonate with the characters as the years went on!

#neon genesis evangelion #shinji #kaworu #asuka #rei #seizure warning #body horror warning #suicide mention #correct me if im wrong #credit goes to twitter user decoratedboar for the iceberg picture help #and fixes

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dancingazaleas · 4 years ago

Text

zeke yeager | pta meeting

i literally don’t know how to shut up about him

also this is all because i saw a drabble of dilf!zeke and it’s been on my mind nonstop

warnings/notes: dilf!zeke, fem!reader, cursing, eventual smut, zeke is a divorced/widowed dad(at 33), reader is 21, cursing, zeke has a mean daughter and a sweet daughter, breeding kink, overstimulation, brief choking, slight degradation, shit one shot i’m sorry

you swear to the lord that zeke’s 11 year old daughter is a menace to society.

she’s brutally honest, just like zeke, and mean. she’s oddly mature for her age, and you think it might have something to do with her late mother. she looks almost nothing like zeke, but she certainly inherited her personality from him. she’s got curly dark brown hair that ends at her armpits and zeke’s grey eyes. she has a button nose along with rosy cheeks, something else she inherited from her mother.

“y’know my daddy only dates you cause you take care of me and aloisia,” isolde says to you as she slips on her school shoes.

you feel your eye twitch as you turn to zeke’s other daughter, aloisia, who’s seven and looks exactly like zeke. she’s got his nose, his hair color, and even eye shape. she’s got hazel eyes and a slim face. she’s as bubbly as they come, always greeting people she passes by on the street, always making friends at the park.

“i’m ready,” she holds up her small hand to you, a silent request for you to hold her hand.

“same,” isolde stands up after she swings her back pack onto her back, brushing off the nonexistent dirt on her navy blue skirt.

“zeke, the girls are ready!!” you shout out, taking aloisia into your arms.

zeke comes stumbling out of his bedroom, a white sleep shirt covering his torso and grey sweatpants.

“you’re going in that,” you raise an eyebrow at his attire, “we’re going to a parent-teacher meeting, not the gym.”

“yeah daddy, my teachers are gonna think you’re a bum or something,” isolde snickers.

“i’ll help your dad, go watch tv for a little bit longer,” you chuckle at zeke’s pout and put down aloisia, who runs to the couch.

isolde takes off her backpack and joins her sister on the couch, putting her feet on the coffee table as aloisia puts on avatar: the last airbender.

“i thought the dress code was casual,” zeke furrows his brows as you take his hand and lead him back into his bedroom.

“it is. sweatpants are not casual, they’re lounge wear,” you snicker as he flops onto the bed while you close the door and go into the closet.

you know zeke’s rolling his eyes at you, judging from his silence. you grab ahold of a white button up with light grey vertical stripes on it, trying to picture your boyfriend in the shirt. you shake your head and put it back on the rack, deciding that the default outfit would be best for now. you take a white button up off the hanger and grab a pair of black dress pants from his dresser. you hand him a pair of black loafers to go along with it and some long black socks that would cover up his ankles, you’re so glad you reminded him that they exist. you throw a black belt next to him as well.

“this is boring.”

“zeke, this is a pta meeting, the whole thing will be boring,” you watch him rid himself of his shirt.

“should i wear a tie?”

“no, you’ll look better with one button undone,” you smile as he struggles to balance correctly when he puts on his pants.

he tucks the shirt inside his pants and slips on the belt with ease. he unbuttons a button before he slips on his socks.

“i thought today was my day off,” he smirks at you while you roll up his cuffs a bit.

you roll your eyes and he slips on his shoes. he doesn’t need to do his hair, it’s just effortlessly neat.

“time to go,” you scurry to the front door with the girls following behind you.

“he doesn’t look homeless anymore,” isolde notes when zeke follows you all out of the door.

“not funny,” he huffs while he locks the door behind him and the girls get into the black SUV zeke drives.

you help aloisia buckle herself up in the car seat and then slip into the passenger’s seat next to zeke. he’s grumbling something about ‘uncle eren’ and ‘getting the girls’ as he turns the car on.

————

you try to ignore the women ogling zeke as you all walk down the school hallway. you send isolde off to her class since her meeting is after aloisia’s.

“i hope you’ve been good,” you say to aloisia, who’s holding both your’s and zeke’s hands.

“i have! ms greene says i’m one of the best,” she gloats, and you hope for zeke’s sake that ms greene isn’t bluffing.

you three walk into the second grade classroom, which is empty because you reserved the appointment, only to find the teacher isn’t in there. it only seems to make aloisia more excited as she tugs you and zeke towards the class wall with a bunch of pictures of it.

“look, look!!” she jumps as she points at her’s, “they said to draw our family and she said i did a good job!!”

the picture is a messily drawn family portrait of zeke, isolde, and aloisia.

“you drew (name) very pretty,” zeke smiles at you when you snap your head back to look at the picture in closer detail.

there you are, stick figure holding hands with zeke’s and aloisia with isolde on zeke’s other side. you never expected to be on aloisia’s family portrait, you’d barely been in her life for two years and weren’t exactly motherly. you’re a struggling college student that she occasionally sees crying at the kitchen table with zeke comforting you from behind. she, on very rare occasions, sees you come home, absolutely plastered, with a sober zeke leading you to his room. you’re the woman that wakes her up when you cry on the couch late at night. you were, admittedly, okay with not being seen as their mom.

it wasn’t your place, for so many reasons. one, you didn’t exactly act as a role model. two, you could never replace her mother and would never try. three, zeke never referred to you as such. you’d only ever act like their mother whenever you were in certain situations. but that didn’t mean you didn’t want them to see you as a maternal figure.

it made you want to cry, but luckily you didn’t. you just smile at the picture and pat aloisia’s head in approval.

“you did do a very good job,” you smile down at her and before you can give her a hug, you notice a woman walking into the room.

“oh, you must be zeke yeager, aloisia’s dad! i’m ms greene,” her face flushes while she holds out her hand for him to shake.

“yea, that’s me. it’s nice to meet you,” he shakes her hand.

she turns to you, “oh my goodness, i didn’t know aloisia and isolde had an older sister!”

“no, she’s my girlfriend of two years,” zeke chuckles uncomfortably.

“i’m (name), nice to meet you,” you wave your hand, “i’m just here to keep an eye on aloisia while you two talk.”

zeke and her go to a table in the corner of the room and aloisia drags you towards a bookshelf.

thirty minutes of aloisia rambling about her favorite book go by seemingly quick, and you watch as she cheers when her classmates walk into the room. zeke’s walking towards you, holding a thumbs up with a cocky smile, for whatever reason.

you kiss aloisia goodbye, who doesn’t seem too fazed, and head towards isolde’s classroom. you hold hands with zeke while swinging them back and forth while he repeats everything the teacher’s said to him.

“i can’t believe my little girl’s at a third grade reading level,” he exclaims, “that vocabulary studying did wonders!!”

“you should thank me since i was the one who studied with her cause she asked about my assignments for class,” you taunt and laugh when zeke pulls you closer by the shoulder.

that’s how the two of you walk into isolde’s classroom. she’s sitting at a table with her teacher, miss dunst, and fidgeting with her thumbs anxiously. she’s covering half of her face with her hair. with the one eye you can see it looks puffy and her cheeks are red, as if she’d been crying.

it has both you and zeke rushing to sit down on both side of her, zeke asking miss dunst what happened while you tend to isolde.

“hey, why are you crying,” you’re squatting by her chair and you reach to brush the hair out of her face.

when you see her other eye, you gasp out at the black eye starting to form on her eye.

“oh my god, zeke, look at her face!!”

“that is what i wanted to speak about with you. isolde has been getting bullied by some of her classmates. today, a little girl hit her after isolde defended herself while they argued,” the poor woman looks sad watching you and zeke check isolde for more wounds.

“why has she been bullied? she’s not mentioned this to me or (name),” zeke asks while examining her eye more closely.

“well, during the first day of school, isolde introduced herself and told the class about her family. she mentioned you, mr yeager, and her sister. the kids asked about her mother before i could stop them and she was honest with them and said that she had passed. she then said that she still, in a way, had a mother. your girlfriend, mr yeager.

“i asked her occupation, to which isolde said a college student. the kids got loud but i managed to quiet them down, and i thought it was the end of that. after that, her classmates started to pick on her verbally about your age gap and her late mother. i didn’t find out about it until this morning when isolde was hit,” miss dunst frowns as she explains.

before zeke could open his mouth, you speak up, “i’m the girlfriend, (name). i am hoping that these children will be punished accordingly and that their parents be notified. if this has really been going on all year like you say, then at this point their parents should be involved.”

“of course! i’m giving all of their parents a call after classes today. the little girl who hit her is sitting down with the principal right now, so she should be safe if you two would like her to stay at school.”

“give us a moment,” you smile kindly, which she returns, and walks to her desk to give you ‘privacy’.

“isolde, why didn’t you tell your daddy or i about what was going on,” you ask while she hugs zeke.

she peeks her head out of his chest, “didn’t want to seem weak.”

“why would you be worried about that,” zeke asks.

“after mom died, you were always so sad and stressed. i thought that if i was strong, you would be happier,” she explains shakily.

“isolde, look at me,” you put a hand on her knee, “you were six years old when your mommy died. six year olds shouldn’t know how to accurately take care of themselves, it’s why your daddy was there. i’m sure your daddy appreciated the effort, but i promise you that all he wanted you to be was his happy little girl. you don’t need to be strong at 11 years old, and you don’t need to be strong all the time. like you said, your daddy was sad when your mom died. it didn’t make him weak, it made him a person. and that’s what you are; a person. a little person.”

she sniffles and nods at you, “people can’t do everything by themselves. i’m sorry if we made it feel like you couldn’t tell us, and it’s totally understandable that you felt that way.”

zeke hums in agreement, “we love you, baby. so much.”

“love you too,” she mumbles with a small smile.

“do you want to stay at school,” zeke asks, he didn’t want to force her into a situation where she didn’t want to be.

“i have a math test later, don’t wanna miss it,” she sighs, now looking up at you.

“(name)...?”

you tilt your head while you wait for her answer.

“i’m sorry i’ve been so mean to you. everyone was making fun of me and called it weird, so i guess i wanted to believe that too,” your heart warms whenever she looks away shyly.

great, now zeke’s horny from seeing you act motherly.

————

ever since you and zeke had stepped off school campus, one of his hands was always touching you. it didn’t matter where, zeke was shameless.

even as you unlock the door to the his house, he has his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around your waist. his lips are kissing softly at your neck and his hands are shamelessly groping at your boobs.

“zeke, what is up with you,” you laugh whenever you open the door, kicking off your shoes immediately.

“horny,” he admits, swiftly following after you and locking the door behind himself.

“what about this morning made you horny,” you ask shyly while you sit on the couch.

zeke’s buttons are halfway undone and his belt is somewhere on the floor. he squeezes in behind you, once again pressing his chest against your back.

“acting maternal, i guess,” his beard tickles the back of your neck as he kisses it.

“is this why you told isolde it was okay if she wanted to stay at school,” you snicker at his fingers pulling your shirt over your head.

“why else,” he scoffs, “my only day off in a while and i’m horny. sounds like a deal.”

you whimper whenever he starts biting at your neck and when his large hands slip under your bra.

“zeke, if we’re gonna do it on the couch, can i at least lay on my back,” you ask while zeke unclips your bra.

without a word, he’s thrown you onto the couch on your back and climbing on top of you seconds later. your hands quickly unbutton the rest of his shirt, pushing it halfway off of his body.

zeke throws the shirt onto the floor and kisses you, hands running up and down your torso. he pulls away to kiss and suck at your neck while his hands grope at your tits. you’re stuck between laughing and moaning at zeke’s beard dragging against your neck.

his mouth trails down to your tits, mouth attaching to your left tit while he continues to grope your right one. you let out a moan whenever he tweaks your nipple with his right hand and bites softly at your left nipple.

he pulls away from your chest, tugging off your pants and panties in frustration. it leaves you laughing and assisting him. whenever your pants do come off, he throws them to the ground and spreads your legs.

“zeke, they’re not opening too far, we’re on a couch,” you note, but soon stand corrected as zeke grabs your ankle and puts it on the back of the couch.

“nevermind,” you snicker at his cocky smirk, as if he’d done something amazing.

your other leg hangs off the couch, leaving you spread open for zeke. zeke spreads open your glistening folds with thumbs and gives a mindful lick up to your clit. after realizing that his beard is not rubbing against you uncomfortably, he dives in like it’s a pool, which he thinks it is because of how wet you are.

his mouth his sucking on your clit vigorously, as if he were a man starved. you’re moaning wantonly as he suddenly ups the speed. how did he even go that fast, you have no clue, but either way you enjoy it. your back in arching off of the couch and your toes are curling as zeke starts bringing you closer to an orgasm.

“zeke!! i’m... i’m gonna come,” you tug at his hair as your legs start to convulse and close around his head.

he only goes faster, and you wonder to yourself if zeke is powered by batteries or something. but the thought is quickly shut off whenever you finally orgasm, moaning out in ecstasy and throwing your head back against the couch cushions.

zeke slows down his pace, helping you ride through your orgasm. he pulls away whenever you’ve calmed down, fingers immediately pressing at your tight entrance.

“zeke... i-i’m too sensitive,” your complaint goes ignored as two of zeke’s fingers are suddenly inside of you.

“don’t care, deal with it,” he huffs as his fingers stretch you out.

with his other hand, his thumb is rubbing at your puffy clit at the same time of his fingers curling inside of you. your hips buck up with a mewl and zeke chuckles at the sight. unlike last time, he’s moving his tantalizingly slow.

his fingers curl once more, rubbing against the spongy part inside of you sweetly. you buck your hips up again at the contact and curl your toes whenever zeke starts abusing that spot with overwhelming speed. curling his fingers against the spot each time he pistons his fingers in and out of you.

“zeke!!” you come again while moaning his name and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants.

zeke chuckles when he pulls his fingers out, spreading them apart to watch your juices stick together in strings. he plops the fingers in his own mouth, rubbing his other hand up and down your quivering thigh as he pulls away from your sloppy cunt.

he pulls his fingers out of his mouth with an obnoxious ‘pop’ and pulls off his pants and boxers at the same time. he groans at his cock hitting against his lower stomach.

you stare at zeke’s cock. the tip is flushed with a bashful pink and his hair is trimmed nicely against his groin. he’s more girth than he is length, a whopping 6.5 inches, which is something he absolutely gets arrogant about.

“hurry,” you huff while watching zeke fist his cock.

“nah, you gotta beg for it, baby,” the corner of his mouth tugs upwards as he watches you wipe away your tears from the previous orgasm.

“zeke,” you whine and wiggle your hips, “please please please give me your cock. need it so bad.”

he hums thoughtfully, and it already gives you his answer.

“please... i want it so bad, need to be fucked by you,” you pout but perk up at his dismissive shrugging.

“since you want it so bad,” he’s laughing while he puts his right hand on your pelvis and his other on his shaft to enter you.

you gasp at the feeling of him pushing inside of you, grabbing for his, now, free hand. when you catch his hand, you guide it to your bruised neck for him to grasp on. he’s chuckling once again, fingers lightly squeezing against your throat as he continues to push himself in.

he groans whenever he bottoms out, letting go of your neck to grab at your plush thighs. he pushes the towards your chest and thrusts into you shallowly after he spits on his cock buried in your pussy. he hits you deeper than he would’ve before, that much is obvious by your moans raising octaves when he starts to thrust roughly.

your hands reach up to grab the back of his thighs to pull him closer to you than before. he’s groaning at the feeling of your pussy squeezing onto him each time he pulls out and thrusts back into you.

“fuck... zeke!!” you cry and throat your head back.

“fuck,” he grunts, “you’re so fuckin’ tight. even after how much i fuck this pretty little cunt each week.”

his words make you whimper and squeeze your grip on his thighs, making crescent moons into the skin.

“i’m gonna come... i’m gonna come again,” you pant out, back already starting to arch, “come with me please..!”

he speeds up his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass getting increasingly louder as he does so.

“you wanna come with me so badly,” he asks tauntingly while you nod.

“god, zeke, please,” you try to ignore the saliva and tears on your face as you continue to scream out for zeke.

“i’ll give my sweet girl my cum since she asked so nicely,” he’s biting his lip whenever he feels his orgasm getting closer.

“yes! yes! please,” you sound so desperate as your orgasm gets closer, “zeke, please, fuck a baby into me, please..!”

zeke almost comes right then at your pleas, but ends up stilling and adjusting his stance to thrust into you more efficiently. the sudden stop makes you whine but it’s soon interrupted with a gasp as he jackhammers into you harder and faster than before.

“fuckin’ whore, wanting me to fuck a baby into you. to make you a mom. since you asked so nicely, i’ll oblige,” he berates.

“you me to fuck a baby into you? make you a mom?” it has you nodding frantically.

zeke continues to degrade you as you’re orgasm comes rushing towards you, fingers now clawing at his thighs as a signal.

zeke thrusts into you two more times before the two of you manage to orgasm simultaneously. his jackhammering slows into a grind, helping the two of you ride out the euphoria you’ve both just went through.

you whimper whenever he pulls out, uncomfortable at the sudden emptiness in you. he watches his cum start to dribble out of you, telling you to keep your legs up. he scurries off to find a paper towel or something to wipe it up with before it falls onto the couch. you shiver whenever you feel a wet cloth wipe away the dribbling cum.

he’s wiping down your chest and neck as well with a clean side of it after you put your legs down. he carries you off into his bathroom, sitting you on the counter while he readies the shower.

“i can’t believe you said that,” he raises a questioning eyebrow at you while he checks the water’s temperature.

“i wouldn’t mind having your kid,” you shrug and watch him put two towels on the counter next to you.

“i might just give you one, don’t say that,” he jokes as he starts to hug you.

“‘m okay with that,” you sigh and lean into his touch, enjoying his warmth.

“you’re stupid,” he snorts and kisses at your shoulder.

“only for you,” you snuggle your head into his neck with a giggle.

“i love you,” he sighs.

“i love you. enough to have your kids.”

maybe in a few hours when you weren’t bathing in the afterglow, zeke would bring it up to you.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #zeke yeager #zeke x you #shingeki no kyojin zeke #zeke yeager x reader #zeke x reader #zeke jaeger #attack on titan zeke #zeke smut #zeke aot #tw: breeding

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junghelioseok · 4 years ago

Text

clandestine. | 06

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.4k [6/6]

notes: we’ve reached the end at last!!! thanks for sticking around through all the sporadic updates, and i hope you enjoy this final chapter!

warnings: some soft, soft smut.

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

The day before your scheduled return to Seoul, your parents decide to throw a joint party with the Jeons. From your bedroom window, you can see the plastic tables and chairs scattered across your adjoining lawns, the tarps and poles that will soon become makeshift pavilions lying in the grass. Though a row of low bushes divides your property, a small stone footpath weaves between the green leaves. You watch Mr. Jeon make his way into your yard, joining your father to unfurl a sign that’s emblazoned with Bon Voyage, {Name}! in bright blue print.

“Noona!” Jimin bursts into your bedroom with zero preamble, the door slamming into the wall behind it. You jump at the sudden intrusion, and flinch when he bounds across the room in two steps and grabs you by the shoulders.

“Ow, Chim,” you grumble, trying and failing to push him away. “Knock much?”

“Help,” he whines, trying to pull you to your feet. “I put too much salt in the marinade, and I just spilled Coke all over the counter. Please come help me.”

You sigh as he casts you the most pathetic look he’s capable of mustering, complete with a quivering bottom lip. Wiggling out of his iron grip at last, you grab him by the wrist and drag him out of your room. “Fine,” you tell him as you pull him downstairs. “You’re lucky I like you sometimes.”

“Love you too!” Jimin singsongs. He swoops in to plant a too-wet kiss on your cheek, and when you squirm in disgust he just giggles and blows you another.

The kitchen, upon your arrival, is empty. “Where’s Mom?” you ask as you grab a rag, tossing it over to your brother so he can clean up the spilled soda.

“She left a few minutes ago,” he replies, sopping up the mess and flinching when some splashes down from the counter onto the linoleum floor. “I think she went to the store to pick up a few things.”

“Food things?” you ask dubiously, eyeing the sizable pile of vegetables and meat on the counter. “Is this not enough? Is the entire neighborhood invited to this thing?”

“You know Mom,” he replies, shrugging. “Just let her have this. She misses having another girl in the house when you’re away. Says Dad and I gang up on her.”

You chuckle. “That sounds about right. On the bright side, though, she only has to deal with you for a few more months.”

“Jeez, that’s weird to think about.” Jimin sidles up behind you and settles his chin on your shoulder. “We’re going to be at the same university soon.”

“Yeah, because you’re a little copycat,” you tease, reaching back to flick him on the forehead. “What’s next? Are you going to start following me around the sandbox again? Come crying to me when someone’s mean to you?”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin steps back and puffs his chest out dramatically. “I’m going to protect you from all those weird college guys, remember? Who else is gonna do it if not me?”

In an instant, your mind goes to Jungkook. Your throat goes dry, and thankfully the jingle of keys in the front door saves you from needing to respond. Jimin’s attention is diverted when your mother steps through with an armful of shopping bags, and you take a moment to shove away all thoughts of your neighbor before following after your brother to help her unpack.

You haven’t seen much of Jungkook since your impromptu sleepover in his room. As your time at home winds to a close, your parents have been increasingly adamant to spend as much time together as possible. Family game nights became routine, and although Jungkook has joined you on a couple occasions, Jimin has seemingly made it his personal goal to ensure that you don’t spend a single second alone with your dark-haired neighbor. Certainly, you’ve texted a bit, but Jungkook’s been picking up more shifts at the restaurant lately and you often see him through your bedroom window returning home after a long dinner shift.

Jimin’s voice draws you out of your thoughts. “Huh?” you ask, blinking, and your brother shoots you an unimpressed look.

“I said, I’m going out back to help Dad with the grill,” he repeats. “Can you bring the cooler out?”

“Oh!” You glance over at the cooler on the ground, filled to the brim with beer and soda. Jimin has a bag of ice in his arms, and you quickly follow him out into the backyard, wheeling the cooler behind you. Together, the two of you push it into an unobtrusive corner of the back porch, and Jimin curses when he upends the bag of ice into it and spills nearly a third in the process.

“Smooth,” you remark.

“Like you could do any better,” is his reply.

It’s just after one o’clock, the sun beaming bright in the cloudless blue sky, when people begin trickling into the backyard where your father and Mr. Jeon have started grilling. You spot Taemin and Minho from where you’re perched on the porch steps, and grin when they wave and begin heading in your direction.

“Heading back to the big city so soon?” Minho asks as he comes to a stop, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re gonna miss you around here.”

“You know you’re always welcome to visit,” you tell him with a smile. “Besides, I’ll be back. I do like to see my family every now and then, you know.”

“When exactly are you leaving tomorrow? Taemin asks curiously.

“Bright and early in the morning,” you reply. “I want to have plenty of time to get settled before I start interning on Monday.”

Minho gives you a squeeze. “You’ll kill it. I know you will.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. You’re about to say more—ask about the rest of their summer plans, maybe—when you spot a familiar dark head of hair exiting the back door of the Jeons’ house. Jungkook is wearing a collared shirt the color of sunshine, the sleeves rolled to his elbows to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. His faded jeans have a rip in the left knee, and you swallow when your gaze automatically trails down to the defined muscle of his thigh, a peek of skin visible through the denim.

Across the yard, your eyes meet. He raises a hand in greeting, his watch glinting in the sun, and you wave back. Everything else seems to fade into the background—Taemin and Minho, the hubbub of the partygoers, even the sizzle of the grill. Jungkook is walking in your direction now, and your throat goes oddly dry at the thought of talking to him face-to-face after nearly a week of intermittent texts and occasional glimpses. Your fingers itch to run through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and your body craves the feeling of his skin against your own. You’d even settle for a simple kiss—the press of his mouth and the slick of his tongue, his palms settling on your hips or looping around to the small of your back to pull you in close.

Needless to say, it’s been far too long since you and Jungkook last slept together. You wonder, vaguely, if there’s any way the two of you might be able to sneak away from the party and head somewhere a little quieter. One last handsy makeout session in his backseat, and one last chance for him to breach your walls with his cock. One last fix of the drug called Jungkook, before you return to your life in Seoul and try to forget the boundaries you’ve crossed in the last few weeks.

Because at the end of the day, Jungkook is your brother’s best friend, and therefore is off-limits. And as if Jimin himself is listening in on your thoughts, your little brother comes bounding out of nowhere, intercepting Jungkook on his path to you and dragging him away to help make more meat skewers for the grill.

The party continues. More people arrive, and you do your best to converse with everyone between bites of food. Many family friends have come out to wish you well, most of whom you haven’t seen in several years, so you put on your best smile and weather the innumerable comments about how much you’ve grown up since you last met. Off in the distance, you spot Jungkook chatting with Junghyun, who has driven in from downtown Busan. The elder Jeon brother has already wished you good luck with your internship, pulling you into a friendly hug when he first arrived, and you would’ve had to be blind to miss Jungkook’s penetrating stare as you hugged him back.

You’re returning from a bathroom break, easing the back door shut, when you are assailed by a tangle of limbs and excited cries. You end up with a faceful of strawberry blonde hair, and laughingly groan as you extricate yourself from the hug, offering a beaming Chaeyoung, Jisoo, and Lisa a grin. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Lisa grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a little shake. “You’re leaving tomorrow! When will you be back again?”

“Winter, definitely,” you promise. “Maybe the summer too, if I don’t have anything else going on.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook again. He’s looking in your direction, his gaze flitting between the half-eaten burger in his hand and where you’re standing on the back porch with the girls, as if he doesn’t want to get caught staring. The party has been underway for nearly two hours now, and you haven’t even come close to having a conversation with your dark-haired neighbor. It seems as though anytime Jungkook comes within speaking distance, he’s interrupted by friends, family, and at one point, even his family’s dog. Gureum has been a part of Jungkook’s family for as long as you can remember, and though he’s getting rather old, he’s still happily meandering around the yard today. You’ve already given in to his pleading face twice and offered him a bit of food from your plate, and you’ve watched plenty of others do the same. A quick scan of the yard reveals that the little white dog is now fast asleep in a sunny patch of grass, and you chuckle to yourself before your gaze finds Jungkook again. Your eyes meet, just for a second.

“{Name}, honey, can you come here for a second?”

You turn at the sound of your mother’s voice. “Sure,” you tell her, excusing yourself from the group of girls to follow her inside to the kitchen. “What is it?”

Your mom hands you a pile of small paper plates and plastic cutlery. “I’m bringing out the cake,” she says. “Can you put those out for me?”

You nod, watching as she picks up the cake. It’s an impressive two-tiered confection, frosted pale purple and decorated with pink cherry blossoms and the words Bon Voyage! in flowing white script. You make sure to hold the door open for your mother as she exits the house on your heels, and duck your head in embarrassment when a few of your neighbors start clapping at your arrival.

The cake is cut and distributed, and you take your piece over to a shady spot beneath the awning of one of the pavilions your father has assembled. Jimin joins you, wiping a frosting-covered finger on your nose, and you squeal and wipe at it furiously with a napkin before taking revenge. Slowly, the afternoon progresses into early evening, and the party begins to wind to a close. Friends and neighbors begin to trickle out, wishing you well before taking their leave. At the far end of the yard, you see Jungkook talking to Chaeyoung, and wonder what the two could possibly have to say to each other before Taemin and Minho draw your attention away.

“We gotta head out,” Minho says, coming to a stop before you and pulling you into a hug.

Taemin nods, tugging you into an embrace as well. “We’ll see you again soon though, yeah? We’re definitely going to come up to visit you guys at some point.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you tell him. “You’re crashing at Jimin and Jungkook’s though. I’m not taking you in.”

“Cruel, but fair,” Minho says with a laugh. “See ya then, Noona.”

“See you.”

The two depart, and you begin gathering up your used utensils and plates, seeking about for a trash can. You smile at your dad as he walks by, and scratch a sleepy Gureum behind the ears as you pass him. Just as you’ve finally found a trash can and dropped your garbage inside, however, a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, Noona.”

Your heartbeat quickens. Slowly, you turn around, coming face to face with none other than Jungkook himself. His dark hair is ruffled by the breeze, and his silver hoop earrings glint in the late afternoon sun. Tentatively, you offer him a small smile, and he hesitates for a moment before smiling back.

“Hey.”

“You said that already,” you point out, trying to quell the sudden nervousness in your belly and swallowing down whatever moisture is left in your mouth. “Fun party, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods. “Really fun. And the food was great.”

You chuckle. “Yeah. We have our dads to thank for that.”

“Definitely.”

A beat of silence passes, and then two. Jungkook is scuffing his heel against the grass, one hand darting up to scratch his ear, and you are just beginning to wonder at his uncharacteristic awkwardness when he suddenly pulls a bag from behind his back.

“Here,” he says, practically shoving it into your hands. “I—I mean, we—got you a gift. From my family. And me.”

Blinking, you peer down at the green tissue paper peeking out of the top of the bag. “Oh, wow. You… you guys really shouldn’t have.”

“It was my mom’s idea,” Jungkook mumbles, looking anywhere but at you. “You can open it now if you want, though.”

You do. Peeling back the tissue paper reveals two items inside—one of which is a lovely leather-bound planner, complete with a calendar and to-do lists and pages for notes. The other is a small canvas, and your mouth falls open when you see what’s painted across the surface.

It’s the lake house. Behind it, you can see lush green hills and trees, all bordering the rippling expanse of blue water. Jungkook has captured the scene at high noon when the sun is at its peak in the sky, glinting off the lake like diamonds. Off to one side, you spot the canoe roped to the dock.

“Wow,” you breathe, awestruck. “Jungkook, this is beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s no big deal,” he says, shrugging and scratching the back of his neck. “I had to rush it a little, between work and all. It could’ve been better.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him, running a fingertip across the canvas. You’ve always known that Jungkook has a talent for drawing, but you’ve never seen him use paint as his medium of choice until now. “Really. I love it, Jungkook. I’m going to hang it up in my dorm as soon as I get back.”

“Back,” Jungkook echoes. “Right.”

And before you can reply—before you can even inhale to speak—he’s pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms looping around your waist and settling there.

“Good luck with everything,” he says once he’s pulled back. And then he’s turning on his heel and walking away, and you’re left to wonder whether these past few weeks were simply a passing tryst after all.

///

As it turns out, your internship is more than enough to keep your mind from straying toward a certain dark-haired young man. Two months after Jungkook left you high and dry, you’re working harder than you ever have in your life. Your mornings are early and your afternoons run into evenings more often than not. “At least you’re getting paid, though,” Namjoon points out, glancing up from where he’s sitting on the couch when you stumble into your shared dorm one particularly late night. “You could’ve been one of the unlucky bastards who got stuck doing unpaid labor at their internships.”

“Oh, good. At least they’re working me to the bone ethically,” you snort, accepting the wine he hands over. Trust Namjoon to have an extra glass at the ready. Your suitemate, despite his flaws, always seems to know when you need a pick-me-up, and you suppose you can forgive his clumsiness and messiness for that. If he keeps it up, you may even start looking past the heart attacks he causes you every time he enters the kitchen and so much as looks at a knife.

Namjoon chuckles and tops off his own wineglass. “So now what? You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit. “What are you thinking tonight? Pizza? Chinese?”

“Thai? I’ve been craving it lately.”

“I can do Thai.” You lean in closer as he pulls up the delivery menu on his laptop, pointing to what you want before sitting back and letting him place the order. “Can you get me an iced tea, too?

“Two iced teas, coming right up,” he replies. “You wanna start thinking about tonight’s feature presentation?”

Flopping onto your side, you reach into the bag you dropped on the floor and fish out your own laptop. You select a film from Netflix as Namjoon fetches his wallet to pay for your food, and the two of you settle in to wait as the opening credits of Disney’s Hercules roll.

“I’m not a good singer,” Namjoon cautions as the Muses begin their introductory monologue. “I just want you to know that beforehand. But out of all the Disney films? This soundtrack is unmatched.”

“Damn right,” you reply, clinking your glass against his. “Best soundtrack ever. We’ll both sound like dying cats, and I for one can’t wait.”

Namjoon laughs and leans over to flick off the lights. The room goes dark and the music begins, and you’re both singing along before you even hit the chorus. Spending time with Namjoon is comfortable, and though you’ve already lived together through the entirety of your first year of school, these past two summer months have strengthened your friendship tenfold. He’s almost like a brother by this point, and you wonder, vaguely, whether Jimin would get along with him anywhere near as well as you do.

As if summoned, your phone goes off. Jimin’s name lights up your screen, and you frown curiously at it before unlocking the device and swiping open the message.

[7:56pm] Chimchim: miss me yet? 😚

[7:56pm] You: no way, weirdo

[7:57pm] You: what do you even want anyway? sure you’re not the one missing me?

Immediately, your phone buzzes with a response.

[7:57pm] Chimchim: seriously? offensive

[7:57pm} Chimchim: orientation’s in less than a week or have u forgotten already?? good thing i’m reminding u

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you realize that you had, in fact, forgotten. You remember your own college orientation vividly—a jam-packed weekend filled with building tours and ample opportunities to talk to current students. Several of your friends, you’d first met that weekend as you all tried to navigate a new chapter of your lives—Namjoon included. It’s how the two of you ended up living together—jammed into a suite with two others who thankfully meshed perfectly with the both of you. Neither Hoseok nor Jennie are here for the summer, but you’ve kept in touch while apart. Both of them poke relentless fun at Namjoon for opting to take summer classes, and you never hesitate to join in on the lighthearted teasing.

[7:58pm] You: oh yeah lol

Your response is casual and calm, but your heart rate is anything but. Jimin coming to orientation means Jungkook is coming too, and the thought of seeing him sends an anxious flurry of butterflies aflight in your stomach. You remember texting him the day after you came back—just a simple photo of his painting, hung proudly on the wall above your desk. He responded with a string of thumbs-up emojis, and that had been that. You’ve barely heard a word from him since, and Jimin’s occasional texts and social media posts are the only reason you know he’s still alive. Hesitantly, you type out another message, thumb hovering briefly over the send button before hitting it.

[7:58pm] You: you and jungkook are driving up, right?

[7:59pm] Chimchim: yep! road trip

[7:59pm] Chimchim: still not convinced jk’s car will make it all the way tho lmao

You think back to Jungkook’s beat-up sedan with its sputtering engine and scratchy seats, and the ominous way the passenger side window sometimes rattled if you slammed the door too hard. Can’t blame you for having doubts, you write back, earning yourself a hearty LMAOOO in response. And then:

[8:01pm] Chimchim: i’ll probably have to do most of the driving anyway

You frown, brows furrowing. Why’s that?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just a hunch. jk’s been weird lately

[8:02pm] You: …weird how?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just weird. a little distracted, maybe? he doesn’t answer me when i ask him whats wrong

[8:03pm] You: how long has he been weird?

[8:03pm} Chimchim: idk 🤷‍♂️

[8:03pm] Chimchim: 2 days, maybe 3? i think he might be worried about orientation or college or something. either way i don’t trust him to operate a motor vehicle rn

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth as you consider your brother’s revelation. It’s perfectly natural to be nervous about something new, but you still can’t help but wonder if Jungkook’s strange behavior might have anything to do with seeing you again. But before you can dwell on it more, your phone buzzes again in your palm.

[8:04pm] Chimchim: i mean srsly he didn’t even hit on mina when we ran into her at jin’s the other day. do u remember her? the girl from the bbq place we went to for grad dinner??

[8:04pm] Chimchim: but on the bright side, it looks like he and chae made up. about time, tbh. things were really awkward for a while

[8:05pm] Chimchim: wait u knew about them, right? they dated for a while?

You take a deep breath before responding, the gears of your brain whirring as you fight to process all of the information he’s dumped on you. Yeah, you write back. Chae told me. They’re okay now?

[8:06pm] Chimchim: yeah. i think they talked at your going away thing

The memory of them chatting in your parents’ backyard resurfaces, and a rush of relief follows it. Even though your conversation with Chaeyoung at the mall confirmed that she was no longer angry with Jungkook, the guilt of sneaking around with him continued to linger in the back of your mind. You’re definitely going to buy her a box of cookies from Kim’s Kitchen as an apology the next time you see her. Maybe even two.

After a few more texts, your conversation with Jimin peters out. He signs off, citing a house party he has to start getting ready for, and you settle back in to watch the rest of the movie with Namjoon, smiling reassuringly when he shoots you a curious look and mouths, everything okay?

Everything is okay, you decide. Jungkook’s weird behavior isn’t your problem, and there’s not a whole lot you could do even if you wanted to, considering how little you’ve spoken in the last eight weeks. That doesn’t stop you from opening up your messages and scrolling down to Jungkook’s name, though. It doesn’t stop you from opening up the last conversation you had—something about a particularly annoying customer at Jin’s restaurant—and scrutinizing every word.

Later that night, just as you’re brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes again. The name attached to the text immediately sends your heart into your throat, and you shakily towel off your hands before swiping it open.

[12:25am] Jungkook: i mis s yuo.

Drunk, the little voice in your brain whispers. He’s drunk. Belatedly, you remember the party Jimin had mentioned, and realize that Jungkook must be there as well. Alcohol has clearly loosened him up, enough to instigate this unexpected sentiment, but you are painfully sober. At a loss, you stare at his message until your screen goes dark. Irritably, you wake it up again, unlocking the phone so you can stare some more, and after what feels like an eternity, you type out a response.

[12: 28am] You: drink some water, jungkook

He doesn’t respond. You wait for five minutes, and then ten, but your phone screen remains obstinately dark and devoid of new notifications. Climbing into bed, you check one last time, but there’s still no response from him.

A resigned sigh leaves your lips as you turn off your bedside lamp and plug in your phone to charge. Sinking down into the mattress, you push away all thoughts of Jeon Jungkook as you close your eyes and wait for sleep to come.

///

On Friday night, you once again find yourself working late. Thankfully, Jimin and Jungkook aren’t due to arrive until later in the evening, so you still have plenty of time to change into comfier clothes and eat something before you have to play host.

Or at least, that’s what you thought. When you swing open the front door of your home, however, you’re greeted by two extra pairs of shoes—one of which is a certain individual’s signature black Timberlands, scuffed and worn from years of use. “Joonie?” you call cautiously, toeing off your loafers and skirting around the corner to poke your head into the kitchen. “Are you home?”

No reply. You wander a little further, entering the living room, and that’s where you’re greeted by the sight of your suitemate, his sheepish grin flanked on either side by two very familiar faces.

“Noona!” Jimin is grinning from ear to ear, and immediately skips forward to smoosh your cheeks between his palms. “We got here early!”

You slap his hands away and poke your fingertips into his ribs. “I can see that,” you retort. “What I don’t get is why you didn't bother to tell me.”

Jimin shrugs. “Surprise?”

You sigh and turn instead to Namjoon, who’s watching your exchange with an amused smile. “Thanks for getting them settled in,” you tell him gratefully. “You should’ve called me, though. I would’ve tried to get off work early if I’d known.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Namjoon waves you off. “They got here about half an hour ago, so it wouldn’t have made much difference, anyway.”

“Still, let me thank you,” you insist. “Dinner’s on me tonight, since I have to feed these heathens anyway. Do you want to order something in? Go out?”

“I’m okay either way,” Namjoon says, shrugging, and you turn to Jimin and Jungkook questioningly.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Jimin says. “I think we’re both pretty tired from the drive, so staying in might be nice.”

“Anything’s fine.” Jungkook is staring down at his right hand as if he’s trying to crack a secret code etched in his fingerprints, and when he speaks, his voice is soft. “Whatever you want, Noona.”

You haven’t forgotten about his text from a few days ago, and judging by the way he can’t even look you in the eye, neither has he. It’s strange seeing him here now—wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt like he so often does, his feet encapsulated in plain white socks. His hair has grown out since you last saw him, leaving only the barest glimpse of his silver earrings visible beneath the dark, shaggy locks. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to run your fingers through it, but quickly quash that train of thought before it can progress any further.

The group eventually settles on ordering pizza, which you order and pay for on your phone. Conversation flows easily as Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon get to know each other, and when the food arrives, Namjoon pulls out his collection of board games. The remainder of the evening passes in a haze of pizza and game tournaments, and it’s only when midnight has come and gone that you decide to call it a night. Jungkook and Jimin settle into the two empty bedrooms—Jungkook in Hoseok’s and Jimin in Jennie’s—and you bid everyone goodnight before retiring to your own bed.

You don’t miss the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on your retreating figure, but he doesn’t say anything and neither do you. He’ll be busy with all the orientation events scheduled tomorrow, and you’re planning to spend a good chunk of the day running errands that you don’t have time for on weekdays. The question of why he’d texted you that night remains on your mind, but you don’t want to ask. And you especially don’t want to ask why he’d never responded after that first message. Confrontation has never been your style, and with any luck, you’ll be able to avoid spending extended periods of time with him altogether.

With any luck, this weekend will pass with no further incident, and you’ll be able to spend the remaining few weeks of your summer in peace.

///

It’s just after two o’clock in the afternoon when you return to your dormitory, a grocery bag clutched in each hand and a tote bag draped over one shoulder. You’ve finished up with all your errands for the day, and even managed to get some reading done for one of your upcoming fall classes. Dropping your bags in the kitchen, you stretch your arms overhead lazily before starting to unpack your groceries. Namjoon is holed up in the library working on an essay, and Jimin and Jungkook don’t appear to be around either. A moment of rare quiet is welcome in your normally hectic life, and you take the opportunity to put some music on and change into your comfiest shorts and a tank top.

You’ve just finished popping some popcorn and are settling onto your bed to watch some Netflix when someone clears their throat from your doorway. Startled, you look up, your eyes locking on Jungkook standing there. He’s wearing a loose gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, and you swallow when you see the way he’s rolled up the sleeves to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. Jungkook blinks at you silently from behind his dark fringe of hair, and a beat passes before he clears his throat and speaks.

“Hey.”

You straighten up into a seated position, crossing your legs and plopping the bowl of popcorn in your lap. “Hi.”

Jungkook hesitates, then shoves both hands into his pockets. “Can… can we talk?”

“Sure.” You incline your head. “Talk.”

Your curt tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Awkwardly, he shuffles his feet for a moment before scratching behind his neck and ruffling his already tousled hair further. “My phone died,” he says, and you blink confusedly at him, twice, before responding.

“What?”

Jungkook winces but presses on nonetheless. “My phone,” he explains. “It died the other night. I was going to charge it before the party, but I forgot to plug it in and then it was too late. I didn’t—” He sighs. “I would’ve texted you back, otherwise.”

Belatedly, you realize he’s talking about his text from a few nights ago and why he never responded. His reasoning is relatively sound, at least, but you still have an unanswered question. “Why?” you ask, your voice soft. “Why did you text me that night? I don’t hear from you for weeks, and then you message me that out of the blue? Why?”

“Fuck, I know.” Jungkook takes two steps into your bedroom, before he seemingly thinks better of it and takes a step back. “I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve texted you more, or earlier, but—” Another sigh, and this time he rakes his hands through his hair and sends his dangling earrings tinkling. “I’m sorry. I really am. I was being a coward, and…”

Jungkook trails off, and you see that his attention has flitted elsewhere. He’s staring at the painting of the lake house, still displayed prominently above your desk, and you see the gears in his head whirring before he speaks again.

“You… you still have that hanging up there?”

You glance at the painting before looking back at him. “Well, yeah. Of course I do. It reminds me of home.”

It reminds you of him, too, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud. Instead you turn your attention back to your increasingly fidgety companion, leaning back on your hands and regarding him with your head tilted curiously.

“What were you saying about being a coward? What are you afraid of, Jungkook?”

Jungkook rubs his jaw and sucks in a deep breath. “You,” he finally answers, after several beats that feel like several lifetimes. “I’m afraid of losing you. And I feel like I already might have, especially since we left things so weird at the party. I should’ve…” He shakes his head. ”I should’ve said something sooner. I should’ve told you how I really feel, but I was stupid and scared and I just couldn’t find the right time to do it.”

Your breath catches. Your mouth goes dry and your chest feels tight, and when you try to speak, your tongue feels like sandpaper. “I—” you begin, and it’s all you manage to get out. Jungkook is murmuring your name in a voice so gentle that your heart skips two whole beats, and when you look at him again he is much, much closer than before.

“But I guess late is better than never, right?” Jungkook breathes. Stopping at the edge of your bed, he drops to his knees, and you don’t protest when he takes your hands and cups them protectively between his own. “It’s you, {Name}. It’s always been you. I tried to forget about my feelings when you left for Seoul—tried to convince myself that it was just a stupid crush—but nothing I did worked. I couldn’t forget about you. And then you came back, and I just knew.” Gently, he traces a fingertip across your knuckles before looking up and meeting your gaze in earnest. “I’m in love with you, {Name}. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. And… and I really hope that I haven’t fucked everything up by telling you this now.”

“You—” Your voice sticks in your throat, and you swallow thickly before trying again. “You haven’t. I… I like you, Jungkook. I like you so, so much, and I think I owe you an apology for trying to push you away so much. It’s just that these feelings… they’re so new. And I—well, I don’t know if I love you yet, but I think that I definitely could.”

“Then that’s good enough for me,” he replies, his face stretching into a wide, crinkly eyed grin. “As long as you agree to be my girlfriend, and let me have the chance to make you fall for me.” And when you nod, giggling, Jungkook leans in and presses his mouth to yours.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and lasts several moments before a sobering thought enters your head. You break away, frowning, and Jungkook’s brow furrows as he takes in your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip, worrying at the delicate skin. “This… thing. This relationship—what if it doesn’t work? I mean, god, you’re Jimin’s best friend in the entire world. What if we have an argument? What if—what if we break up?”

“We won’t,” Jungkook replies confidently, lacing his fingers with yours before leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against yours affectionately. Instinct has you leaning into him, seeking out proper contact, and you feel his lips curl into a smile as he indulges you with yet another kiss.

“You can’t know that for sure,” you murmur when you break apart, but your voice is readily lost in the huff of laughter that escapes your companion.

“Maybe not for sure,” he says. “But I’ve loved you since I was about eight, and I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.”

This time, when your lips meet, there’s a bit more heat behind it. Jungkook curls a hand around your nape to draw you in close, and licks sweetly into your mouth when you part for him. He’s quick to press you down onto your mattress, and you sigh as he trails down your body and takes the straps of your tank top with him. The material falls off your shoulders, leaving just enough room to tug the rest of the shirt down to your waist, and he groans when your bare breasts are freed.

“No bra? Fuck, you’re killing me.”

You arch beneath him, huffing out a breathless little laugh when he seizes the opportunity to envelop a nipple into his mouth. His fingers find the other—squeezing and rubbing and tweaking until you’re quivering in his grasp. “Jungkook,” you breathe, waiting until he lets out a soft hum of acknowledgment. “Jimin—he could come back any minute. Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now.”

Jungkook glances up from where he’s exploring the underside of your breasts, tracing the soft swell of delicate skin with his lips and tongue. “Jimin,” he says, “is at a special session for his major. He won’t be back for hours, so why don’t you relax and let me make you feel good, hmm?”

And, without even waiting for an answer, he drops down to his knees and digs his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. Your legs are dangling off the edge of the bed, and Jungkook easily tugs the material off them, taking your panties right along with it. Tossing them aside, he doesn’t hesitate to spread your legs and slot himself into the newly created space. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, and your breath hitches when you glance down the length of your body and see the ravenous glint in his eyes.

There’s no doubt in your mind that you’re wet enough to take his cock right now. You can feel the slick gathering between your legs, and the smirk on Jungkook’s face tells you that he’s noticed it too. Teasingly, he presses an experimental fingertip to your clit, watching in satisfaction as your hips buck off the mattress at the flare of pleasure. Then he’s sliding down, sinking a lone finger into your entrance and curling upward to find the soft spot that he knows will unravel you in a matter of minutes. A gasp escapes you when he finds it, your hips rising again, and he soothes you with a warm palm on your thigh and a sweet kiss to your hipbone.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Jungkook is able to build up your orgasm, but then again, you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been a quick study, and you’ve never been sure whether it’s stubbornness or determination that drives him to excel at his passions. Here and now, with two of his fingers buried inside your cunt and a third teasing its way in, you don’t even care which it is. All that matters is the pressure building in the pit of your belly, and the way Jungkook keeps murmuring your name and encouraging you to cum for me, princess. It’s enough to push you over the edge, your back arching off the bed and your lips parting in a moan as you ride out your high.

“So pretty.” Jungkook circles your clit with his thumb, his fingers still sheathed within your walls. “You always take my fingers so well.”

“Think I’d rather take your cock instead,” you reply breathlessly, sagging back against the mattress and reaching for him. Jungkook takes the hint, gritting out a hoarse curse before crawling up your mostly bare body and crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. You grab the hem of his gray sweatshirt, pulling it up and over his head, and are more than pleased to discover he’s not wearing anything underneath. His sweatpants soon follow, Jungkook impatiently kicking the material off his ankles, and you sigh out his name when he wraps you in his arms, skin against skin.

“I’m not going to last very long,” he warns you, his breath a puff of hot air against the shell of your ear. “Promise I’ll make it up to you later. Just wanna feel you right now.”

“Go on, then,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “How do you want me?”

Jungkook groans, no doubt having a furious internal debate with himself, before reaching down and taking his cock in one hand. “Just like this,” he decides, gazing down at the way you’re spread out on your back for him. Deliberately, he settles between your thighs, giving himself a few pumps before positioning himself at your entrance. “Wanna kiss you while I fuck you. Wanna kiss you for the rest of my life.”

He’s pushing forward then, stealing the breath from your lungs along with any thoughts that may have crossed your mind at his last sentiment. Jungkook sinks into you until you’re gasping at the fullness, his hands grabbing at the meat of your hips and pulling you against him with every thrust. He fucks into you with reckless abandon, hoarse praise and gritted curses falling freely from his lips as he uses your body to seek out his own high. Every now and then, his mouth seeks out yours in a sloppy kiss, which you happily indulge as his rhythm falters and becomes increasingly erratic.

Jungkook floods you with his warmth, his arms gathering you up tightly as his cock slowly softens within you. His lips find yours, and this kiss is a simple, tender one—an affectionate press and a crinkly eyed smile that has you automatically smiling back.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy,” you tease, poking him in his slightly sweaty chest. “Jimin’s going to throttle you for this, you know.”

“Worth it,” he replies cheekily. “Anything’s worth it as long as you kiss me better afterward.”

“Gross,” you tell him, laughing. “You’re so lame.”

“But you still like me,” he says with a shrug. Then he grins. “The real question, though, is whether you like me enough to help me move in the fall.”

You hum, hiding your smile. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”

A positively wicked grin spreads across his face and settles there. “Why don’t I give you a preview?”

///

A few weeks later -

Jimin hums softly under his breath as he strolls into his new dorm, a cardboard box cradled in his arms. There’s a growing pile of boxes in the middle of the living area already, and he’s only just found an empty spot to drop the latest when he hears an odd noise coming from the bathroom. A wet, smacking sound, kind of like—

“Jungkook, you dog,” he snorts, throwing the cracked door open. “Get your ass out here and help me unpa—“ He stops in his tracks.

The scene before him doesn’t make sense. Jungkook is standing in front of him with wide eyes and fear in his expression, but that doesn’t make sense. At least it doesn’t until he sees you in the reflection of the mirror over the sink, your clothes disheveled and your lips swollen.

“Wait, we can explain,” Jungkook begins, following the trajectory of Jimin’s gaze and waving his hands in a fluttery panic. “I swear, Jimin, it’s not what you think—“

“That’s my sister,” Jimin says, his voice dangerously calm.

“Yeah, but—”

“You put your hands on my sister,” Jimin continues matter-of-factly, as if Jungkook hadn’t spoken at all. “I’m going to fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

And before you can catch your breath and open your mouth to stop him, Jimin leaps forward, his fingers aimed directly for Jungkook’s throat.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fic #kpop scenarios #brother's best friend au #lia writes

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years ago

Text

WC: 2261

Rated: M

Tags: angst, medical issues, pregnancy complications, hurt/comfort, anxiety, brief mentions of medical procedures but no gore, nothing is technically sad, fluff, papa laszloooo

A/N: honestly tho I am sorry. also i maybe cried a little writing this, which is a first. also also everybody is fine in this it's just emotional

Blame @hardlyinteresting

🧠

"Three weeks…. Three weeks little bean…" you mumble as you rub your protruding stomach after a particularly harsh kick to your ribs. The chair was a sweet relief to your ankles after a long day at work and doing some light chores around the house all afternoon. You had three weeks until you hit 39 weeks into your pregnancy. As much as you were anxious you were ready. Ready to not feel like a bloated whale. Ready to not have sore feet. But most of all, ready to hold your baby girl.

Laszlo had been trying to convince you to take it easy and start maternity leave early, but you resisted. The last thing you were about to do is nothing. Most first pregnancies went late anyway, you'd argued, so you didn't worry about it yet. I’m pregnant, not dying - give me another week, you'd told him.

What you didn't tell him was about the headaches. Or how sore your legs were. Or how absolutely exhausted you'd been feeling the last couple weeks. Whenever he would ask if you were alright or offer a foot rub you would just brush it off as third trimester woes. You didn't want to worry him.

You were sat in an armchair in the parlor, feet propped up, damp rag over your eyes. The droning from the tv had your nerves on edge. All you wanted to do was take some tylenol and feel better, but you had been knocking back more than was probably safe the last few days so you went without.

A sudden pain shoots through you causing the rag to fall onto your chest. “Ohh...ow? OW!” You sit up straighter as the ache persists; the dull throbbing in your upper abdomen unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Were you in labor early? Did she just kick in a bad spot? No no - surely the pain would’ve died down by now had that been the case. Unless? Can babies kick so hard they rupture something? Did my kid just bust my liver? Your thoughts run rampant as you wait, in vain, for the pain to go away. The pricking behind your eyes and in your temples only made it more hellish. Pressing your palm to the spot does nothing, nor do the breathing exercises you had been taught.

When five minutes have passed by without relief you make the choice to call out for your husband. “Laz?” No response. “Laszlo!” A beat passes; nothing. You swallow through your building nausea.

“I swear to fucking-” you growl as you snatch your phone from the end table to your left. You use all your concentration to dial his number.

It rings four times.

“Bärchen, why are you call-”

You don’t let him finish. “Something’s wrong.”

______

Head thrown back into the flat, starchy hospital pillow you groan in frustration. “permanent bedrest?” You scrub the hand not clutching your belly down your face.

The emergency room Obstetrician gives you a pitying look. “I’m afraid so - your blood pressure is high and we want to keep it under control to prevent outcomes such as pre-eclampsia. I recommend doing as little as absolutely possible; get rid of as many stressors as you can.” He flips through your chart. “You said you’ve been having headaches and fatigue for nearly two weeks? Why didn’t you come in sooner?”

Huffing, you tell him “I thought it was just part of the third trimester. Everyone always complains about how bad it is.” He hums in response.

“Well. I’m going to go take a final look at your labs, make sure everything else is fine before we discharge you. I’ll send in my Nurse Practitioner to give you the run down and anything else you’ll need to know. And should anything else like this happen again - get in here immediately.” He pats you awkwardly on the hand before nodding at Laszlo and leaving the room.

Laszlo.

Sparing a glance from the corner of your eye you see him looking towards his lap, his weaker hand cradled in the other. He’d been quiet since you admitted when your symptoms had first begun. Every single time he’d asked you how you were feeling you had lied to him. Granted, you didn’t technically know you were lying. But it makes little difference when you’re sitting in the ER. He had every reason to be upset.

“Laszlo honey,” you reach over to him. Slowly he takes your proferred hand and stands, coming to stop beside the bulky bed frame. His thumb caresses your wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve examined the signs, kept a better eye on you.”

“Laz-”

“-No-”

“-I didn’t want to worry you, okay?-” Your voice breaks as you defend yourself.

“-I could’ve done something, maybe- I don't know!” His slightly raised voice startles you quiet. The pain in his eyes only makes you feel guiltier. He licks his lips. “I took the liberty of calling your mother. She will be here tomorrow afternoon and will be staying in the guest room as long as we need her.”

Now you look away, indignant. “I don’t need to be watched like I’m a child.” The tears behind your eyelids rush in; a lone drop trailing down your cheek as the embarrassment settles within your gut. You knew that at some point it was likely you would need her here. However you imagined it to be under happier circumstances. A deep inhale fails to calm your sobs. “I just- I don’t want to be a burden with all this.” Your tears flow freely now.

“My dear you could never be.” Laszlo sits on the edge of the bed. He rests his right palm above the swell of your child, his left cupping along the curve of your jaw. He tilts you to face him. “But the health of you and our girl is what is most crucial now. Let us take care of you. Please.”

A gentle kick underneath his palm from your daughter is answer enough.

__________

Two weeks. 14 days.

Lying in bed, sitting in the same spot for hours on end was actually going to be the death of you. You were sure of it.

Your mother truly has been a huge help since arriving. Laszlo wanted to start his paternity leave, but you insisted that he stay until you were closer to your due date. Which couldn’t come fast enough, you might add. Both Laszlo and your mother were prone to pestering you about some things, but at other times if you truly wanted to be alone they gave you your space. Now was one of those times. Laptop to your side, you watch another episode of Grey’s Anatomy. A knock sounds. You turn to see your husband standing in the doorway, the blood pressure monitor in arm.

He gives you a bright smile. “How are you two on this fine afternoon?”

“Cut it with the attitude, bucko. Let’s get this over with.” The words, while harsh, had little bite to them. His brow raises but he says nothing. You honestly felt bad that you’d been in a pretty foul mood since being discharged. On more than one occasion you’d said as much to Laszlo and your mother - they didn’t deserve your ire. Thankfully they understood why you were so frustrated.

You held the strap in place as he secured the velcro and started the machine. Buzzing filled the overall quiet room. Closed eyes you wait. Some days your results were higher than others. Unless you became higher than a certain threshold the doctor said you were safe to be home. At the sound of a beep Laszlo unhooks the cuff, reporting that your levels are within the acceptable range. When he goes to leave you alone you clutch at his sleeve. He waits as you peer up at him. “Stay?”

He never could say no to you.

______

Little bean’s ruthless treatment of your bladder had you up for the second time that night. You waddled to the bathroom to attend to your business and wash your hands. Glancing at the circles under your eyes in the mirror you sigh. “I love you baby bean but you’re giving me a run for my money here, kid,” you whisper as you rub your stomach. Three days, you remind yourself.

The floor creaks as you shuffle back to bed. Suddenly, an odd warm trickling sensation travels down your legs. “What the fuck?” Looking down around your bulging bump you find yourself standing in a small puddle, the glint of the bathroom night light reflecting off the surface. “Shit okay…ah Laszlo? Hey, I need you to wake up.”

He grumbles. With a roll of your eyes you walk over and shake him awake. “Hey- what-” he sits up instantly and blinks at you. “Is everything alright?”

“My water broke.”

He hops into action right away. Moving you to sit on the bed, he pulls out his cell phone to call your doctor. As he talks you watch him move around the room, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, as he collects your hospital supplies. You feel useless as you sit. Yet, you know that your priority needs to be keeping yourself calm and that moving around could exacerbate your condition.

He hangs up. Coming to stand in front of you he presses a kiss to your forehead; “I’ll go wake your mother. Don’t move, Liebling.”

As you sit you blow out a long breath. You look down at your bump. “Guess you decided you’re ready to go, huh kid?” The tip of your fingers brush along the side of your stomach. “I know we’re ready for you too. We’re going to love you so much, and your daddy? He’s gonna be the best, you’ll see.” Placing your palms flat she nudges you from within.

_____

The doctors decided that a c-section was the safest route. You both knew it was a possibility, but you had hoped that after weeks of bedrest that your blood pressure would balance out enough for a natural delivery. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They monitored you for an hour before your contractions began, officially confirming you were in fact in active labor and dilating. After the fourth hour your blood pressure began to spike again. That’s when they decided to prep you for the procedure.

The operation went smoothly. The atmosphere of the surgical suite was tense with your nerves, but Laszlo’s calming words and his hand squeezing yours kept the anxiety from spilling over. You even found it in you to poke fun at how ridiculous he looked in the puffy blue elastic hair cap he wore.

When the first cries rang out you nearly tried to hop off the table to see your baby. The doctors worked quickly to ensure you were in proper condition while the infant was cleaned.

“Dad? Would you like to come and cut the cord?” one of the nurses calls out.

Laszlo looks back at them before turning to face you. He searches your eyes for a moment; “go,” you nod with a smile. You watch as he did what the nurses instructed as best you could, her soft wails echoing in the small room. He returns to you right after while they finish wrapping her up in a blanket.

“She’s beautiful my dear,” your professor confesses. He leans to give you a lingering kiss. “I’m so unbelievably proud of you.”

“I love you so much.”

“As I love you.”

The doctor interrupts your moment. “Would you like to hold your baby girl?” The question is directed at you, but you look over to your husband. The man you love more than life itself. He stares at the little bundle as if she’s the most incredible sight he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t take his gaze off her. His irises sparkle with unshed tears as he looks on with wonder.

“Laz?” Finally he breaks away. “Hold your little girl - she’s been waiting to meet her Papa.”

Carefully the doctor shifts his hold on the babe to slide her into Laszlo’s waiting arm. He swallows as he pulls her to his chest. Something caught between a sob and a laugh leaves him. You blink through your own tears at the sight of your husband and daughter, a sight so far beyond perfect there could be no words. Laszlo held her with such delicacy, such reverence. It was as if any moment she could slip away as though a dream.

“Hello there my little dove, I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you.” He doesn’t bother to wipe away the streams that fall from his eyes. “I’m your Papa and I-” he sniffs, looking towards the ceiling and blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. You rest your hand on his bicep. “I love you so very much. I would give you the world if I could. Your grandfather didn’t...he was not....” he pauses to gather himself. “To me you are the greatest gift I could ever receive. I will be the best father I can for you. A father worthy of you. Mein Gott, Ich liebe dich my darling dove.”

He continued to hold her in his arms until it was time to take you into the recovery room. When he had asked if you wanted her you simply shook your head. You would get your chance, you had a lifetime to do so. But your Laszlo needed this. He needed his little dove.

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