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prism-forgone · 5 months

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Deltarune Classpect Assignment, or: We've Been Godless For a Very Long Time Y'all

Everything that happens next can be blamed on the tumblr user @vriskologymajor. They literally asked for this to happen in response to me stating i have Some thoughts on the subject x. Enjoy the carnage lmao

Note that this whole analysis is over 2000 words long. I'm putting everything below Susie under the cut but there's also an analysis of Noelle, Kris, Ralsei, Berdly and a surprise someone in there. Please read it. Pretty please.

EDIT: An ask in which I elaborate about the secret bosses can be found here: x

Here's what's gonna happen. I'm going to provide the classpects i believe the main characters can be aligned with and my reasoning for both parts of the title. Be aware this is my own personal opinion and every classpect analyst's opinion is worth its salt because, frankly, classpects are insane. Okay. God. Let's get to this.

Susie // Knight of Rage

Susie's classpect might for real be the easiest and most obvious one I've ever assigned. It seems incredibly open-and-shut once you think about it. I don't think many are going to disagree with at least the aspect assignment but I'm going to monologue about it some more anyway because there's a lot more in support of this than some might think and it's actually pretty interesting.

Rage is the immovable object of aspects - Ragebound are incredibly volatile not only to their environment but to narrative itself. They're unpredictable and can quite literally go against the powers that be (i.e. narrate the story) because they don't feel like following their directions. And Susie does that routinely - she cuts off the player's choice and states their decisions don't matter while being inside an RPG and, in Chapter 1, quite literally refuses to listen to their commands. She is the one that initiates the revelation that her and Ralsei can act on their own, and picks a third option from the two given to the player, splitting the party and leaving its leader alone.

When it comes to less meta elements of this aspect, the main thing that comes up is her strong emotions. Contrary to the name, Rage is not only about anger. It is largely about negative emotions, though. In addition to anger, doubt, bitterness, aggressiveness or fear (specifically of being betrayed, left alone or lied to) are all emotions Susie exhibits quite a lot. Fortunately, she finds a way to utilize those and vent them out instead of bottling them up or lashing out, and she does that by... oh man, utilizing them? If only there was a class that did that, huh-

Yeah, Knights have a tendency to weaponize the elements of their aspect A Lot. With a Knight of Rage, it's something among the lines of a barbarian in DnD - they utilize their negative emotions to gain strength, using it as a means for attack and protection; both literally and on a more interpersonal level. And Susie does both! She's a bully both before and during a good part of Chapter 1 but it seems very much so that she's projecting, especially when it comes to the entry on Noelle's blog. It's a defense mechanism to hurt before you get hurt.

It's not surprising in the slightest - Knights tend to have incredibly low self-esteems. Later on she switches to a different strategy - she lets her strong emotions fuel her attacks and even further down the line, her S-Actions. Her demeanor switches to very explicit protectiveness of her team. And I think something that was kind of the final nail in the coffin for me is that her title in the party is literally its knight:

Doesn't get more explicit than that, I don't think.

Noelle // Mage of Hope

The reason why Noelle is on the list so early on is because her and Susie have opposite aspects and I think that's fun, and that it's easier to exemplify those differences if they're next to each other.

Being a pair to Rage, Hope is an aspect that is also connected to its hero being somewhat connected with the narrative. But, as opposed to the way Ragebound refuse to make things easy for the narrative, Hopebound are a driving force within it, either through acting on their own volition or being forced by an external force. Other evidence includes its symbolic connection to angels, things that are holy (like... Holy Prayer? wow), extreme passion for their interests and a penchant for uncovering what is real and true but perhaps hidden (like easter eggs in a game, for example).

Hope is the unstoppable force to Rage's immovable object. In connection to Hope's alignment to miracles, it fits in nicely with how Noelle is the key component in the Weird/Snowgrave Route, as it reads as something straight out of a creepypasta, something that should not even be possible in the game. (To those who read HS scratching their head about the miracles being a Hope thing, Gamzee was a Bard (a destruction class), and thus ghosting his opposite aspect - in his case Rage. We'll talk about aggressively ghosting aspects by Princes and Bards in just a while, though).

The Mage part might be more complex and less obvious than the Hope part. A Witch might be something that seems more intuitive due to her power level but I'll do my best to make my case here.

Mages internalize their aspect through experience. They take in both the good and the bad that comes with it and learn from it to be able to use it. Their relationship to their aspect can then be quite volatile - sometimes the aspect serves to actively harm them, they have too little or too much of it. And Noelle puts a lot of faith into others and is pretty easy to trust and be swayed to one side or another. This shows the most prominently in the Weird/Snowgrave Route once again, where her blind faith in the hope of getting stronger puts her through the awful experience of being made a tool of destruction.

There's also a fascinating element to Mages and their relationship with external beings. They (along with Seers) are extremely attuned to hearing and perceiving external forces and their voices (like the commands of the exiles in HS - or the player in DR). Additionally, Mages have once been speculated to be the passive counterpart to Witch at some point before settling into the active part of the knowing class duo they make alongside Seers today because while Witches manipulate, the Mages are more prone to manipulation, mostly through something directly connected to their aspect (Sollux by literally fate itself, and Meulin by someone close to her as Doom and Heart heroes respectively). What screws up Noelle in the Weird Route, is her blind belief in who she perceives as Kris and their actions, her sureness in there being some method to this madness and the reason for all this being getting stronger, something she really wants due to feeling weak.

Let's discuss that feeling.

Kris // Witch of Heart

I know! I know. I know this class seems out of pocket but I'll do my best to justify this title, I promise.

Let's start with Heart, the less... offending of the two. Heart as an aspect has to do with emotions and desires, yes, but mostly it has to do with identity, self, personas and literal soul. I'm sorry but this is non-negotiable - if you believe Kris is anything else than Heartbound, you need to reconsider the text again. Yes, there could be some argument about how struggle for freedom can be a sign of them being Breath-aligned but their struggle is mostly for the freedom of self-expression. There are multiple points in Chapter 2 at which we direct them to do something and they comply but use an incredulous inflection or say something that technically is what we picked but in such a tone that it's construed as something completely opposite. Their struggle is centered on identity for sure.

It goes beyond just our influence and Kris's struggle against it, though. There are multiple hints at Kris not really being entirely comfortable with their place in Hometown as the sole human. They don't like thinking about other humans, Toriel says they would wear a horn headband because one time they asked when their horns would grow in. They're clearly usually an introvert and don't like other people knowing too much about them. They look up magic and were interested in the occult at least at some point, and seem to not really want to be themselves.

In what ways are they a Witch then? Many, actually! The first piece of evidence is that Witches break the rules of their own aspect, and I don't think calling tearing your own soul out of your chest and shoving it into a constricting place for just a moment is a stretch. Additionally, they seem to even have a Witch Familiar that is closely related to their aspect and without whom the entire plot would change drastically! It's you. You're the familiar. The soul is the familiar.

And the 4th-wall breaking fun doesn't end there! Despite being possessed, they still retain who they are - no one thinks they're a different person, after all. Which means that us using Kris, Noelle's childhood friend, to exploit her need (dare I say desire, to make the connection to the Heart aspect more explicit) to feel stronger and make her IceShock every moving thing in Cyber City is us utilizing their abilities to manipulate the Heart aspect.

Ralsei // Prince of Void

Remember when I said we were gonna talk about how the destruction classes like Princes and Bards ghost the aspect opposite to theirs in a bit? Yeah, that time is now. Back on the more stable ground because I don't think it's that big of a hot take to argue Ralsei is a Prince of Void, given that it's basically in his title within the team.

Yes, Princes and Bards ghost their opposite aspect a lot. Ralsei accomplishes this by being a walking, talking exposition machine, something that those more familiar with the mind-numbing properties of Aranea Serket, a Sylph of Light (an inverse of a Prince of Void) would know is very up the alley of those who are Lightbound. Ralsei serves as an introduction to lore, game mechanics and other very technical things. However, ghosting the opposite aspect is not the same as being bound to it. Ralsei is still very much Voidbound.

There's an air of secrecy and obscurity around Ralsei. He's not telling us something. He smashes through the 4th wall - something Void heroes adore to do, by the way - like it's nothing by showing knowledge of what he should not be aware of at all - what do you mean EAST classroom. How do you know this and why can you acknowledge this. He can banish us to focus on other characters to talk to Kris one-on-one, causing a narrative blackout of sorts, which is another thing Voidbound tend to do.

At the same time, he shows clear signs of being a Prince that destroys his aspect or with his aspect. As I said, he's incredibly prone to throwing animated exposition dumps at the player but that's not all there is to it. He's literally part of a team of heroes who set out to destroy dark fountains. Not only can he cause narrative blackouts around himself, he tries to make Kris stop focusing on what happened after Spamton's fight, blocking off a path to solve that mystery. "You don't need to know anymore" kind of thing.

Destruction classes are dual in nature through being defined by their aspect but setting out to destroy it. He's afraid of being abandoned and forgotten. He keeps things from both his friends and the player. He doesn't want to fall prey to obscurity. He's secretive and does unexplained things through unknown means, like by just showing up in the Cyber World. As befitting a Prince, he's a walking contradiction.

Berdly // Page of Light

Believe it or not, Berdly's was one of the more tricky titles to pin down. I'm still not fully sure of it but I'm able to argue in favor of this decision.

Light is an aspect of relevance, knowledge and fate. Berdly is someone incredibly focused on academics. However, Pages inherently lack their aspect and literally have to be fed it by someone else who has more of it despite not even being bound to it until they reach a power threshold that allows them agency. Once they do, they're a force to be reckoned with but, as things stand, Berdly admits that Noelle is the real smart kid and he would never be the best in class if it weren't for her.

Despite not being the opposite of an Heir of Void, the narrative seems hilariously allergic to him anyway. He starts reading out loud and literally puts Kris to sleep with it. His monologue is not going to be read by many people because it's happening while there is a time-sensitive multi-part puzzle going on. Queen, the antagonist that moves most of the plot forward, runs away from him. Additionally, Lightbound are usually quite prone to being swayed to do things, and Berdly is a pain for Queen to handle but she does manipulate him quite a lot anyhow. He's flabbergasted when she captures Noelle right in front of him because that's not what they agreed on.

As an aside, one of his attacks is him throwing pages of A+ school assignments. That's the most hilariously Page of Light attack in the history of ever.

BONUS ROUND

Player // Seer of Mind

Bet you weren't expecting that, huh?

Every player is a different separate person but again, classpect titles are more about the place and role in the narrative and oh boy, oh boy. Is there evidence that the soul, i.e. us, are a Seer of Mind in the story of Deltarune.

For starters, it's literally the inverse of Kris's classpect. We're as diametrically opposed to them as possible. Secondly, as stated with Noelle, knowledge classes like Mages and Seers are incredibly attuned to meta-level voices. In Noelle's case that means things like hearing our commands even if Kris is down. In our case it means literal narration. We also know things we have no business of knowing - we're able to do things like hearing characters' thoughts, literally mind-reading them.

A more traditional role of a Seer of Mind (and we know this because there literally is one in HS) is knowing the outcomes and consequences of certain decisions. We literally have the power of reloading and saving to find that out. I rest my case.

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bi-bard · 3 years

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Chick Flick Moments - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Chick Flick Moments

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Requested: by an anonymous reader

Word Count: 2,363 words

Warning(s): violence, cussing, Sam embarrassing himself, spoilers for any movie/show listed in the author's note

Summary: (Season 11) Gabriel takes a break from hiding to teach (Y/n) and Sam to forgive each other.

Author's Note: I had so much fun putting this request together! Also, if I remember correctly, this reader wanted to remain anonymous.

Here are links to all the scenes that inspired parts of this imagine:

1 (Princess Bride), 2 (8x12 Criminal Minds; can't find just the scene to link), 3 (Moulin Rouge), 4 (The Notebook), 5 (The 10 Things I Hate About You), 6 (Gilmore Girls), 7 (La La Land)

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

I rolled my eyes as I walked through the bunker.

Sam was still ranting about the most recent hunt. I was just tired of listening to it. Dean had long since given up trying to control his brother, who had shown no sign of listening to anyone.

"You can't just throw yourself into every single enemy," Sam yelled. "Fun fact, you're not Superman!"

"Oh my god," I finally, turning around. I had been halfway through the library at this point. Dean continued through the bunker, ignoring us. "I ran up to one extra vamp because you were about to get your throat ripped out! Yes, I put myself in danger but it was to save you!"

"Why are you so desperate to be a hero," he asked.

"Why are you so pissy that I saved you," I shouted back.

I let out a yell before turning and leaving.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed," I shouted from down the hall. "Maybe you'll be nicer in the morning! You're welcome for saving your ass!"

I stormed into my room and slammed the door shut. I changed quickly, throwing my old clothes into the corner before curling up on my bed. My emotions got the better of me. I started crying into my pillow.

Imagine saving the man you secretly loved... and then he got mad at you about it.

I fell asleep crying that night.

--time skip--

I shot awake, cringing at how bright it was.

I looked around, letting my eyes adjust to the light.

I was on a hill. I was on a hill, lying in the grass with the sun shining on my face. This is not good.

I stood up and did a circle to look around the long stretches of grass. Nothing looked even slightly familiar.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered.

I decided that the best option would be to try to climb down and find a person... somewhere.

I was just about to start making my way down the hill when I felt a hand grab me.

Out of pure fear, I grabbed the person and pulled them from behind me. The person went flying down the hill.

"(Y/n)," I heard Sam's voice yell as he rolled down the hill.

I put my hand over my mouth. He soon stopped rolling and then he stood up, scrambling to pull the black mask off of his face. I sighed, dropping my hand when I saw he was alright.

"Sam," I called.

"Your instinct is to throw some down a hill," Sam asked.

"When a masked man tries to grab me, definitely," I replied. "Fun fact, Sam, I can actually defend myself."

He gave me a sarcastic smile. I shot it right back to him.

Sam looked down at his outfit before sighing and shrugging at me. He had just started to move back up the hill when my visions went dark.

I opened my eyes a few moments later.

What had been an open field was now a dark warehouse or factory. I saw Sam across from me, but also a group of people behind him. I recognized them. They were characters from Criminal Minds, a guilty pleasure I watched when we weren't hunting.

I tried to figure out what was happening.

Then, I became all too aware of the barrel of a gun pressing into my neck.

"No," Sam yelled.

It clicked.

Sam was supposed to be Spencer. I was Maeve. This was Zugzwang.

My heart dropped.

"Wait, please, don't," Sam yelled as the gun pressed harder on my neck.

"Sam, shut up," I snapped.

"Me for (Y/n)," he shouted.

"You would do that," Diane- the unsub of that episode- asked.

"Yes," Sam replied.

"No," I yelled. "Sam, shut up."

"You shut up," Diane growled at me.

"One difference between me and her...," I growled back.

I grabbed the gun, pushing it forward, away from my neck. The bullet she tried to fire hit the brick wall. I turned, bringing an elbow down on her arm. Her hand dropped the gun into my grasp. I pointed it toward her.

"...I'm not scared of a simple gun."

The others walked over and arrested her. I looked at Sam.

"If you continued, she would've killed herself, which would've killed me," I explained. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I watch this show when we aren't hunting."

He walks over, going to hug me before the scene changes again.

"Holy...," I trailed off as I looked around.

Around us, we could see the tops of roofs and a beautiful night sky. It was almost a dreamy setting.

"Where are we now," Sam asked.

"Only the great Moulin Rouge," Sam and I both twirled around to face... Gabriel. "I know, I know... I'm not dead, anyway!"

I rolled my eyes.

"You two need to learn a lesson," he pointed at us.

"It's like back in 2010," I mumbled. "Play our roles to get out. Probably why we were pulled out of the last two."

"You'll fall into them naturally, I promise," Gabriel smirked. "And yes. Stop ignoring the plotline."

"Alright... sure, I was gonna get shot for your crappy game," I snapped sarcastically.

Then, he was gone. I rolled my eyes.

"So, what are the roles," Sam asked as I walked around the top of the elephant.

"Well, Christian and Satine," I pointed between us. "Maeve and Spencer. The Princess Bride and Westley. It's all romance."

"Why," Sam scrunched his face up.

"Because Gabe wants to get his rocks off," I said sarcastically, "I don't know, Sam!"

I walked down the stairs of the elephant. It was gorgeous here. It was just as vibrant as the movie made it look.

"Wow," I look back at Sam. "This is awesome."

I chuckled and nodded.

"What seen is it?"

"The Elephant Love Medley," I said. "Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman sing this mash-up of famous love songs as his character tries to convince her that there is nothing more important than love."

"I'm not gonna sing," Sam shook his head.

"I was not gonna ask you too," I chuckled. "I've heard you sing."

"Rude."

I just shrugged.

I looked around at the room, trying to figure out how to play these roles without the singing.

"Wait," I said. "Come on."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the stairs.

"What is it," Sam asked as we made it to the top.

"At the end of the medley, Christian and Satine are dancing and they walk out onto this field of clouds and are held up in the sky."

"What-"

"This whole movie feels like a fever dream the first time you watch it."

"Come on," Sam held a hand out to me.

"Can you dance?"

"Not well," he chuckled. "The role didn't say I needed to be good."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him.

I tried to lead his steps and laughed as he stumbled into a pattern.

"Come on," I moved back so I could grab only one hand.

I led him a few steps forward and onto- what seemed to be- steps in the clouds. I let out an excited laugh when it worked. Sam looked at me and grinned at my excitement.

As soon as got to the top of the steps... it was gone.

We were in the middle of the street now.

"Aw, that was just mean," I mumbled. I glared at Sam when I heard him laughed.

He held his hands up jokingly before extending one toward me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

"I know what movie this is," he shrugged. I motioned for him to continue explaining. He walked over, hand still held out to me, "The Notebook. Noah and Allie dance in the street. So... will you dance with me? Even without the sequence where we dance in the clouds."

I bit my lip as I smiled.

I took his hand and let him pull me into the street. I laughed as I stumbled into his chest.

We fell into the scene naturally.

Sam held one of my hands in his and held my waist with the other. I placed my free hand on his shoulder. I looked up at him. It felt strange that we so casually fell into the scene but I was happy.

Sam jokingly twirled me around before pulling me back to his chest. I closed my eyes and chuckled.

"What," he asked.

"Nothing," I shook my head. "I just never saw you as such a romantic."

"Well, don't tell anyone, you'll ruin my reputation," he said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes.

Sam spun the two of us in a circle before going to dip me. I didn't think I'd ever get to experience something like this. It always just felt like something I should forget about as a hunter. I was starting to forget why I was so angry with Sam in the first place.

I barely noticed that Sam was leaning in before the scene around me changed.

I was on a football field.

I looked around.

There was no sign of Sam.

"Crap," I mumbled, trying to figure out where to look first.

Then, there was a voice going over the field's speakers.

"You're just too good to be true... can't take my eyes off of you..."

I looked around toward the stands to see Sam walking with a mic. Can't sing, my ass.

"You'd be like heaven to touch... I wanna hold you so much"

"Oh my god," I muttered.

"At long last love has arrived... And I thank God I'm alive... You're just too good to be true... Can't take my eyes off of you."

I tried to bite back my laugh. He shrugged at me with an embarrassed smile and stepped into the actual stands.

We both jumped when the marching band started playing. I looked to see Gabriel smirking and leading their march.

Sam and I shrugged at each other. He continued on with the act.

Now, Sam Winchester pretending to be Patrick in "10 Things I Hate About You" was a treat... and was exactly what you imagined it would be.

He was almost stumbling down the steps as he continued on with the act. I was laughing hysterically by the time I saw the security guards starting to run in.

"Sam," I yelled, pointing behind him.

"Crap," I heard through the mic (which made me almost double-over in laughter) as he tried to take off running.

As soon as he was grabbed, the scene changed.

We both took a deep breath when we realized we were sitting together in a car.

"Thank god," Sam mumbled.

"That was a great performance, by the way," I said, still chuckling.

"Shut up," he muttered, laughing along with me. We fell silent after a minute. "So... what scene is this?"

"I have no idea," I replied.

"It's Gilmore Girls, dumbasses," we heard Gabriel's voice but saw no sign of him. "Season 1, Episode 16... absolute idiots."

"Didn't peg him for a Gilmore Girls fan," I said. Sam laughed.

"Me neither."

We fell silent again.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, looking over at me. "You were right. You can defend yourself and you were just trying to help me. I'm sorry for being such a dick about it."

I grinned, "Thanks... I forgive you. I know you were just worried about me."

Sam smiled back.

"I... umm...," Sam looked down for a moment, clearing his throat and collecting his thoughts. "I just... I love you."

My heart leaped up into my throat. I blinked at him a few times and forced a chuckle out. Which was the wrong response but I panicked. Hunters... we could face the devil but emotions were a no-no.

"(Y/n)," Sam's smile dropped slowly when he realized I wasn't responding.

I was just about to respond when the scene changed again.

Sam was gone again and I was on a city street.

"Dammit," I muttered.

I ran down the street, turning the corner. I looked at the wall of the building I was by. Was this a jazz club?

I walked through the door and was guided to a table so I could sit down and watch the performance.

"La La Land," I said.

Sam and I watched this together. Dean had gone to bed. We weren't tired and just turned this movie on because it looked like it was mostly happy.

Big dance numbers, beautiful effects... and the epilogue that made me hide tears from Sam.

I looked at the stage. Sam was sitting there, wearing a suit, looking at the audience nervously. He hesitantly reached toward the piano. It was like it was a prerecorded track. It sounded just like the movie.

I smiled.

I just wanted to talk to him.

Soon the performance ended.

I stood up and started walking over, seeing Sam starting to walk out.

I grinned at him, "Sam-"

He cut me off by cupping the sides of my face and kissing me softly. I touched his sides lightly, smiling against his lips. It was... magic. Absolute magic.

Then, I shot awake, back in my bed in the bunker.

The game was over. Thank God.

"(Y/n)," I heard yell through the bunker hall.

I ran into the hall and ran toward his room.

We stopped as soon as we saw each other.

"Please tell me that wasn't a dream," I said. He shook his head, smiling widely at me.

I ran over, pulling him down to kiss him again. It was softer than our last kiss and I loved it. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer. I buried my hands through his hair.

"Woah, what did I miss," we pulled away when we heard Dean.

I could basically feel Sam chuckle against my lips before he moved to look at his brother. I turned around in Sam's arm.

"A chick flick moment," Sam answered.

"Alright," Dean gave us a weird look before leaving without another word.

I looked back at Sam with a smile, "I love you."

"I love you too," he grinned and leaned in to kiss me softly again.

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

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sakinotfound · 3 years

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Butterflies

(Yui Tamura x fem!OC)

synopsis: the main plot of this story is romance. the story revolves around the OC and how she falls for her best friend, vice-versa. it would also show how she grows and learns as an individual.

warnings: mature language, curse words, smut, sexual stuff, mentions of abuse, sorry for any mistakes will edit it later (will add on more as i write)

note: i couldn't find any YBC stuff that i actually liked so i thought why not i write on my own?

link to chapter 1.

PROLOGUE

as a second year student at Morimori Academy, Tsuki Aikawa was already used to how the school works. private schools are generally very difficult and have very high standards — higher than regular schools.

Tsuki used to belong to an extremely wealthy family. her father was the CEO of one of the world's leading companies. on the screen, the Suzui family was shown as a very happy and stable family. The mother and the father posed happily towards the flashing cameras and looked as if they were in love. their daughter was shown to be having the time of her life with all the Instagram posts showing her vacation at Hawaii or the Bahamas with her parents. but nobody knew what happened behind closed doors. and that was exactly the reason which lead to the divorce between Rin Aikawa and Aoi Suzui.

but that wasn't a problem since she was an over-achiever. she was very competitive, determined and focused. the sixteen year old girl was career-oriented and had her priorities set. she had learnt from a very young age how important it is to be independent and strong in this cruel world.

sure money isn't everything but money is power. if you are dependent on someone else who has that power, they are going to use you, manipulate you and exploit you.

Aoi Suzui looked like someone who was very modern and progressive but he was anything but. he was an abusive husband who physically, emotionally, verbally and mentally abused his wife. he was an absent and uncaring father who didn't give a fuck about his child and constantly threatened her to take away the basic necessities and rights if she ever disagreed with him for even a minor thing.

Rin Aikawa was horrified even at the idea of a divorce, "horrendous! respectable families don't have divorces! women are supposed to sacrifice and tolerate. we are supposed to deal with this stuff! just because your father is like this doesn't mean we'll leave him!"

"father? first of all stop calling him my father. he is a taint to that title. besides what respectable? i don't see any respect given to you nor to me. being my mother how could you possibly have such low and ancient ideals? you have to leave him, mumma."

"Tsuki-"

"Tsuki what? do you know who you are? do you know what you are capable of? give me one reason why a woman like you would so much as even look in the direction of a man like him? i am done!"

it took alot of efforts by Tsuki to even convince her mother to take this seriously but she was a resilient girl. when she was serious about something nothing or rather no one could stop her. and that is how she succeeded in her parents' divorce.

after divorce, Tsuki took her mother's last name. something which she always wanted to do. something which gave her more happiness than anything ever did.

life was happy and peaceful after Rin left Aoi for good. she obviously got the custody of the then fourteen year old raven-head. after that they restarted their lives. it was a fresh start and they never looked back.

finance was never a problem for them. Rin Aikawa was a very knowledgeable and educated woman. a few years ago, Rin became the principal of Morimori Academy. it used to be a co-ed school but after a board meeting they decided to make it an all-boys school only. so now the school only had boys except her. except Tsuki Aikawa. the reason why a girl was in an all boys school was her mother.

Tsuki's mother refused to let her only child, her only daughter and her only best friend to live away from her. Morimori Academy was hidden among the hills and was the only school in miles from where they lived. for Tsuki to go to a high school she would have to live away from her only family - her mother. she didn't want that, neither did her mother. so she became an exception.

it does seem like the worst decision ever— imagine being the only girl in an all-boys school — but it wasn't. infact according to Tsuki, it was one of the best decisions she ever took.

since Tsuki was a four year old kid, she met with a lot of people. these people also belonged to the rich section of the society. and these people also had children of their own.

that is how she met Yui Tamura and Ayato Yuri. that is how she became best friends with the two most — what people would say — weirdest teenagers on this planet. but they were her weird best friends. and she found nothing wrong with them. ok maybe a few things but c'mon who doesn't have flaws, right?

Tsuki was on cloud nine when she got the news that two of her most beloved people would attend the same school as her. this was what made Morimori one of her best decisions.

#fanfiction #yui tamura x reader #yui tamura #yarichin bitch club #fem!oc #best friends to lovers #anime #tamura yui #tamura yui x reader #best friends #yui tamura smut #yui tamura fluff

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fridge-reviews · 3 years

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Boyfriend Dungeon

Developer: Kitfox Games Publisher: Kitfox Games Rrp: £15.49 (Steam) $19.99 (Itch.io) Released: 11th August 2021 Available on: Steam and Itch.io Played Using: An Xbox One Control Pad Approximate game length: 8 Hours

I have to say I wish the real world worked like it does in this game, whatever fears and insecurities you have just manifest in a dungeon in your local area and you can just go there and beat the tar out of them to get over it. That'd be great, especially since the monsters strictly stick to the dungeon and never ever leave. Not sure how I'd feel about people turning into weapons though that has all sorts of moral and social questions that I wouldn't want to think on for too long.

Before I start into the review proper I feel I need to make it known that I was one of the backers for this game on Kickstarter.

Y'know its been difficult trying to explain Boyfriend Dungeon to my friends. I mean, it sounds like some kind of BDSM themed hentai game which incidentally I do have one of those to review at some point but that's a while off. What Boyfriend Dungeon actually is is a dating simulator/visual novel combined with a isometric dungeon delver. It should be noted that even though this game is called 'Boyfriend' Dungeon you don't actually have to have a boyfriend, you could have a girlfriend or even a non-binary person... hell there's even the option of a cat eventually if you don't want to have a romantic relationship at all.

When you start the game you get to name and design your player character which includes an option to pick which pronouns you prefer (the default being they/them). Regardless of what pronouns you choose it doesn't place any limitations on who you can date. And if you later decide you want different pronouns, a new look or a new name you can change it all simply within your apartment.

The game is set in the town of Verona Beach (which I assume is the one in New York state). Your player character has come to visit for the summer and luckily has an apartment to live in rent free for the duration thanks to your very kind cousin. In short order your character discovers that apparently some people can turn into weapons and those that chose to make use of them (with consent) are given the title of wielder. Of course, just because the rent is free doesn't mean everything is paid for, you still need to eat after all (not that that's something you have to actually manage in the game). In yet another stroke of luck you can get make money by dungeon delving. It seems that dungeons filled with monsters have been appearing and they drop money when you kill them. They call this past time “dunj-ing”... a term I thoroughly disapprove of.

As you date and flirt with the weapon-people you increase their 'love rank'. Doing this unlocks new skills that each weapon has. Dependant on which weapon you take with you into the dungeon your combat style will change for example; the glaive is slower but more powerful while the daggers are quick but relatively weak on their individual strikes. As the weapons gain more skills and effect your tactics will change.

The monsters of the dungeon are manifestations of your fears and insecurities. In the player characters case they mainly seem to be old rotary telephones, flip phones and CRT televisions. The game will eventually tell you what the fear in question is if you defeat the dungeons final boss. If you happen to run out of health while in a dungeon (which is the only place you can lose health) you fall unconscious and are retrieved by paramedics. There isn't really a downside to this as all items and money found in the dungeon are kept. As you would expect with a dungeon delver as you fight you gain experience and eventually increase in wielder level. Since all the moves come from the weapons this increase doesn't change anything other increase your health pool and attack power.

While on dates (and in certain places within the dungeon) you can give gifts to your potential paramours, each one has their own likes and dislikes that you can work out through conversation and by just paying attention to what they like and don't like (similar to real life). What I found interesting is that unlike most dating sims I've come across its not you doing all the giving, sometimes your love interest will have a gift or two to give you as well.

You can find materials and blueprints in the dungeon to craft gifts and cosmetic items. That's right this game has crafting! Like every other game in existence it seems (sorry I'm just over inserting crafting into every game). It's perfectly functional and I like that quite a few of the cosmetic items you make are references to other games by Kitfox. I'm also slightly bemused by some of the items used in the crafting, I made a pizza using some wire and sugar, I'm pretty sure that's not what pizza is made out of, but what do I know?

Typically visual novels tend to be... verbose. That's not the case in this game, while it's all very well written its clear the developers wanted to keep things succinct and stuck to the most important and impactful parts. I do urge that if you play this game not to simply skip past all of this as there are some very heartfelt scenes and interesting aspects to the characters that are shown in these sections.

It must be mentioned that this games main plot (for it is not all about romancing the weapon-people) revolves around stalking, there are some warnings about this when you start a new game but they are vague and I know that on certain platforms you wouldn't be able to get a refund based on these. Personally I have no issue with the use of that theme but I know that some could find it problematic. I know that the game has been updated since the time of writing to be more specific in its content warnings but I honestly can't remember how the warnings looked previously to compare.

Is it worth your time? That's down to you. However, I had fun with the game enjoying every moment. I also know I'll be returning to it later once the developers release some of the other characters that were slated to be added in.

If this appeals to you perhaps try;

Analogue: A Hate Story Huniepop

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hgwellsmykabering · 3 years

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@purlturtle tagged me in a little W13/Bering&Wells questionaire for her website - Thanks for thinking of me, and feel free to post my answers on there with my lilolilyrae ao3 URL, and/or this tumblr here!

How did you get into Warehouse 13/Bering and Wells? What do you love about the show/ship, what woke your interest, what kept it going?

I first watched Warehouse 13 with my family when I was about 13 - I think season 3 had just been released, and there were re-runs of the earlier seasons on TV, I liked it and got the DVDs for my birthday.

I shipped Helena and Myka from the start - and it might be the one and only popular ship that I got into without prior influence from fandom! While I already had a tumblr, I wasn't active in many fandom circles there, and I had never even heard of ao3 yet... But when I discussed the W13 characters and possible relationships with my parents, and my mom was like 'we may not like it, but Pete and Myka as the main characters will end up together, it's always like that' (curse you, season 5, for proving her right), while my dad suggested Pete/Helena and didn't believe me that Helena and Myka were the most shippable... well, I went online, found my first fanfiction, and felt Very vindicated at not being the only one to realize their potential! So really, Bering&Wells got me into fandom.

When did you start writing for them? Do you still write for them, or have you moved to other fandoms/ships? (no worries either way, it's absolutely fair to move on!)

I started writing for them back in 2016 with a College AU that I never quite finished (and don't have the heart to mark 'abandoned' but am honestly not sure whether I'll ever come back to), then only sporadically stayed in the fandom until I found some new Bering&Wells online friends some time last year, and I started writing for the ship again a few months ago.

What do you/did you like about writing for Bering and Wells? What motivates/motivated you to write for them?

Apparently, I have a ship-type of 'Women with a tragic backstory where one had to leave the other for a while', and, well... they just fit that perfectly.

Also, all the lost potential of canon! I do so enjoy fixing that.

What kinds of stories do you or did you write for Bering and Wells? Happy endings or sad endings? Hurt/comfort, plot fics, AUs, kid fics, fix-its, smut, …?

So far it's been short fics, mostly smut, but given that since I started writing for them again this year, I only wrote 3 new fics for the ship so far, I don't think that's much of a pattern yet xD we'll see! I definitely plan to write more.

Have you created or are you still creating other forms of fan art for Bering and Wells/Warehouse 13, like GIFs, videos, paintings? Do you wanna show it off (share a link)?

Photo posts on tumblr! I think I only made the one moodboard for Bering&Wells so far, but I am taking prompts for photo stories, moodboards and manips to all of my ships :)

Do you have a favorite story, or a story you’re proudest of, and would you tell us which it is?

...I'll link the one that isn't smut xD and I did get positive reviews on this!

The Grey of Memories, 1.5k, T, emotional hurt/comfort, no warnings. Tumblr | ao3

From the smut fics, my fav is And You Don't Need To Stay Silent on ao3, 5k, E, emotional loud sex in a newly established relationship

What do you/did you find easy to write for them; what is/was hard or challenging? Do you feel you have a good grip on the two main characters; is one of them more elusive than the other?

Well you see... It's honestly been so long since I last watched much actual W13 canon... So now when I think of the characters, it's all a mash-up of ideas from other people's fics, plus my own specific headcanons - and I honestly don't care to change that. (Insert that text post 'does fic really have to be in character? Is it not enough that I don't need to learn any new names?')

As for writing them to still be recognizable to people with different headcanons, I've found that Helena's old-timey British-ness and tendency to use the pet name 'darling' helps a lot, while I don't have any such tricks for Myka, so I suppose writing HG would be easier there.

What's your writing style? Planner, Pantser, Plantser? Do you work with a beta? Have you ever co-written a story with someone else, and how did that experience go?

I can write one-shots in one go, but for anything longer than about 5k, or if I just don't have the time to finish even a shorter story when I have an idea for it, I note down the outline and go through it later. I don't usually work with betas unless it is a fic written for a gift exchange.

What are your favorite kind of stories/story tropes for Bering and Wells, either to write or to read? What are stories or tropes that you don't like (or can't stand) to write or read for them?

While I'm not usually a fan of kid fics, with Bering&Wells I really enjoy stories that include Christina, especially in a fix-it way, but also in AUs.

For canon compliant fics, I like some good emotional hurt/comfort dealing with trauma - as they are going through a lot in the series, and canon isn't always perfect about dealing with the aftermath.

What are your favorite Bering and Wells stories from other authors/writers? What do you like about these stories?

One of the, if not the first fanfic I ever read is Time After Time by muppetmanda on livejournal, and it is still my favorite! A long timetravel fix-it for (almost) everything, NC-17, getting together.

Other great stories:

Transient by tantedrago on ao3

Warnings: Major Character Death

38k, M, a Ghost!Helena AU

Lots of lovely angst, how Helena and Myka start to interact and get close is beautifully written.

Trapped (aka oh my god, they were roommates) by paddingtonfan69 on ao3

11k, M, deals with the 2020 pandemic

The title says it all! This is a quarantine AU with Myka and Helena as college professors, getting together while stuck in the same appartment and competing for the same job. I love the premise and I adore where the author went with it.

Only for tonight by Numo on ao3

76k, E, bigender H.G.

HG and Myka get together despite many dificulties with each other and the Warehouse regents. I also really love the idea of bigender!HG and how they are written as both genders in different scenes.

(lady I will touch you with my mind) by corchen on ao3

18k, not rated (could be E)

This fic has a wonderful idea for an artefact, and Myka and Helena's feelings and reactions are very well written!

I haven't replied to all of the questions, but if someone else also wants to do the interview for purlturtle's blog, you can find all questions here!

#thanks for the tag!#bering and wells #warehouse 13 #lilolilyrae #purlturtle #hgwellsmykabering #tagged #fic recs #bering and wells fic recs #bering and wells blog #blog

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ambivalent-anarchy · 4 years

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Party Games

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: Underaged drinking (but c'mon guys, they're like, highschoolers sooo)

Summary- [Y/N] plans a small get- together and forgets to tell Peter, but when he comes over to do homework and then stays for the party, she finds out just how fun Peter Parker can really be. Also Peter drinks for the first time haha

Bonus: Funny drunk Peter

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

"Okay!," you said to yourself, rubbing your hands together while looking around your room. "We got chips, dip, LED lights, playing cards, uno, cards against humanity, music and..."

You looked around the room again, letting your arms fall to your sides. "Crap, what else?..."

You were throwing a party.

Well, actually just a small get-together.

...but everyone knows that basically means a party.

And this small get-together/party needed to be PERFECT.

"Alright... chips, dip, music, playing cards, LED lights, uno, cards against humanity, and..." you trailed off again. Why did it seem so empty? What were you missing?

"Drinks..," you quietly said to yourself, a small smile playing on your lips. "No party is complete without alcohol."

This par-..uh, small get-together was going to be a blast!

You quickly turned your head to the clock when you heard a knock at your door. It was only four o'clock. The party started at five. What frickin' grandma-time-moving person was at your door a whole hour early?

You opened while simultaneously rolling your eyes. "You're, like, an hour early.."

"No I'm not," a voice responded.

You looked up to see Peter Parker there in front of you. His eyebrows were scrunched up as he titled his head. He carried a small backpack.

"I always come around this time," he said, checking his watch. "D-do you need me to come back later o-or-?"

Realizing what he was talking about, you slapped your forehead. "Oh yeah! The homework!"

"I-I mean it's totally cool if you already did it!," he rushed. "Like, really cool! Cuz y'know, progress is, GREAT, y'know! And, um, you're really smart and stuff. Ha, I'll just go home and do mine and-"

He was so cute when he rambled, something he did the second anything went the smallest bit wrong.

"Pete, chill," you giggled. "I haven't done my homework yet."

"S-sorry," he stuttered. "So, do you still wanna go do that now or-?"

"Sure," you said. "But you gotta say you'll help me out, first."

"Yeah of course!," he smirked before tilting his head again. "Wait, with what?"

You laughed. "Just come in," you said, taking his arm and pulling him into the house.

After a bit of homework (mainly Peter breezing through it all while you copy his work), you and Peter picked up where you left off, setting up for the party.

"I didn't know you knew how to pick locks," Peter chuckled in awe as you used a hair pin to get into your parents liquor cabinet.

You giggled softly, rolling your eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Pete. Hey, you like Hennessy?"

The clueless boy stared back at you. "Uh, I wouldn't-"

"You ever been drunk before, Peter?," you asked, a small smile playing on your face.

"U-um. No," Peter responded, a little embarrassed. Given all the opportunities he had to, even with his Aunt May actually handing him some alcohol to try, Peter Parker had never tasted a drink. Not even beer or wine.

"Too cute," you snickered, shaking your head, unknowingly causing Peter to blush a bit. "Grab a few bottles, will you?"

"So is all of this," Peter said once you were back in your room. "For something special like a sleepover or something?"

You turned your head around the face him. "Wait, didn't I invite you?"

Peter shook his head quickly. "No." He wouldn't admit it, but when he walked in to see that you'd been setting up for some sort of event, he couldn't help but feel a little left out.

"Oh. Well you're invited," you said simply. "It's just a small get-together with friends from school."

"O-okay." He smiled. "I just gotta call May," he said. When you nodded, he turned away and pulled out his phone.

Immediately, he dialed Happy's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey Happy," he greeted. "Can I ask for a quick favor?"

"Depends on what it is, kid," Happy replied.

"I need someone to cover for me tonight."

"What?"

"On patrol," Peter clarified. "I need someone to cover for me. Just for tonight. I have something to go to-"

"Who is she?," Happy asked, failing to hide the amusement in his voice.

Peter looked back at you sitting on your bed. You were so cute. "W-what?"

"You never skip patrol for anybody, Peter," Happy said. "The only thing I can think of is you've picked up Tony's old habits of dropping duties for special girls."

Hearing that, Peter quickly looked away from you, as if Happy was somewhere hidden and he didn't want to be caught proving his words to be true. "What?! No, it's nothing like that! I just-"

"I'm just kidding buddy. Go on, I got you covered. Go kiss your girl."

"We're not gonna kiss!," Peter whisper-shouted.

"Hey, stay hopeful, kid. You got this!"

"Happy, we're not gonna-" CLICK. "Happy! Ugh.."

Hearing only a muffled fraction of the commotion, you squinted your eyes. "Everything okay over there, Peter?"

"Uh, yeah!" He said, turning around and putting his phone back into his pocket.

Ding-dong!

Both you and Peter looked up to the sound, and then to each other.

"It's starting!," you smiled, excitedly wriggling. "Alright!" You clapped your hands together then walked up to Peter. "We did everything, right?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

You gave a nervous smile. "This is gonna be awesome, right?"

Peter nodded again, giving your arms a reassuring shake. "This is gonna be awesome, [Y/N]. Now c'mon, we don't wanna leave them at the door."

MJ was the first to show.

"Hey MJ!," you yelled, pulling her in for a tight hug.

"[Y/N]," she blandly said, though with a small, lopsided smile. She looked to the side, a smile still on her face. "Peter."

"Hi," he smiled softly, his hands awkwardly in his pocket.

Ned was next.

"Hey [Y/N]. This thing's gonna be awesome!," he said walking in. "Pete!!!," he then said, practically slamming into Peter to give him a big brotherly hug.

Then Betty.

"Hey guys!"

Then Cindy.

"What's up?!"

Then Brad.

"Yo!"

Then there was Flash.

"Hey Flash!," you greeted, pulling him in for a hug, and even giving him a friendly high-five.

You were the only one that tolerated, or dare anyone even say, liked him(not in the interesting way of course). Sure he was annoying, but you didn't get the big problem everyone, especially Peter, had with Flash.

"Yo, PENIS PARKER!!"

...Or maybe you kinda did. It was just funny to watch Peter squirm.

He nearly tackled him to the ground and doing his arm around his neck. "Hey, your balls dropped yet? Haha!"

Peter gave you a quick 'why would you do this to me?!' glare before lowly muttering, "Hey Flash..."

Spin The Bottle~

"C'mon c'mon, lemme spin it!," Flash yelled. "I'm feelin' lucky!"

"Lucky?," Betty asked. "Who're you trying to get?"

"More like which one of you lucky ladies will get me?!"

"Get over yourself, dude," MJ scolded.

"Hey Pete! Why're you all the way over there?," you asked Peter, who was sitting on your bed watching the game from afar.

"I-I'm fine not kissing anyone..."

"PRUDE!," Flash yelled, pointing to the blushing boy in the corner.

Never Have I Ever~

"Okay," you started, looking around the circle. "Never have I ever...Oh! Here's a good one. Spoken to Spiderman."

Peter, MJ, Ned, and Flash put their fingers down.

"Oh wow, guys! Not fair! When'd you all get to talk to him?!," you playfully whined.

"Said hey to me on the street once," MJ said with a shrug.

"Saved us in Europe," Peter added.

"Gave me a high-five while he was swinging," Ned noted with a smile.

"Told me to watch out when something was gonna fall on me," Flash said, eyes sparkling as if he could actually see his hero in front of him.

"I mean, they don't call him the friendly neighborhood Spiderman for nothing, right?"

Paranoia~

"Alright guys," you said, running your hands together. "For the chaotic energy of this game to work, get by the person you think is the most annoying." When everyone just sat and stared at you, you rolled your eyes and clarified. "C'mon guys, I already know who just merely tolerates who, don't make me have to tell you where to sit."

Slowly and awkwardly, everyone sat next to someone they didn't prefer.

MJ sat next to Betty who sat next to Brad who sat next to Ned who sat next to Cindy who sat next to Flash who sat next to Peter.

"Oh, really?," Betty snickered next to MJ. "I'm definitely learning some things."

MJ rolled her eyes with a chuckle. "I don't hate you, Betty. I just like everyone else more."

Flash looked to the people on the side of him. Cindy and Peter. "...yeah I'm not surprised."

"I love you all the same," you giggled. "So I'm just gonna sit anywhere," you said as you sat next to Peter.

"So the way this one works is the person to the right of you is gonna whisper a question to you and you have to answer it out loud to everyone else in the circle. And here comes the fun part next..." you looked to Peter, your most easily embarrassed friend, to watch his reaction. "You get to decide whether or not you want to tell everybody what the question was. And if you don't, you take a shot."

Peter's eyes widened. "O-of what?"

Brad laughed. "What else, Peter? Alcohol."

"You guys cool with that?," you said, looking around the circle.

"Heck yeah!"

"Totally."

"Cool."

"Sure! Sounds fun!"

"Mhmm."

"Yep!"

"T-that's fine!"

"Oooookay," you said. "Um, Pete! You can go first."

You were on his left.

The circle watched as he leaned into your ear. Immediately you laughed. Once you stopped you answered. "It's been good."

"What was the question?" MJ raised her eyebrow.

"He asked me how my day was."

Flash laughed. Ned shook his head. MJ rolled her eyes. "That was the lamest-"

"I-I was put on the spot, okay?!," Peter defended.

"Well, you've got a whole round to come up with another one," you laughed. "An interesting one."

Peter nodded, racking his mind with more questions to ask you.

It couldn't be anything embarrassing like, "whose your crush?" (Though he secretly wished it would be him)

It needed to be cool. It needed to be sensible. But fun.

"Peter."

Peter's eyes flicked up upon hearing his name being said by MJ.

She was staring at him. "What was the question?," he asked.

You and MJ looked to each other, smiling after coming to a silent agreement of mischief.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna let you suffer," MJ told Peter.

Peter stared, his mouth agape. "Then drink up," you giggled while MJ took her shot.

"W-wait wait wait, no, you can't do that," Peter objected.

"Actually she can, Pete." You smiled a wide shit-eating grin, obviously enjoying Peter's torment. "And now you'll never know what I asked to provoke her to say your name."

"But-"

Cindy laughed. "Feeling paranoid, Peter?"

"Yeah, y'know just a little bit!" Peter's voice cracked as he felt a blush creep onto his cheeks.

Okay, well now he had to get back at you.

He stared at you intently, as the game continued. You were cute as an angel, but as mischievous as Loki himself sometimes, and usually to his expense.

But what could he say? He liked you.

He really liked you.

Before he knew it, it was Flash's turn.

He must've been really out of it if the whole circle had already gone through one round.

"Alright I got a good one, Parker."

"Great..."

Flash leaned in and whispered, "Do you wanna bang [Y/N]?"

Peter yanked his neck back immediately. "Whoa! Uh-um..n-no! Of course not! I so don't!"

"Calm down, dude!" Ned laughed.

"What type of question made you get like that?," Brad asked, almost killing himself with laughter.

"Then again, it doesn't take much for him to get like this," MJ pointed out. "Anyway, what was it, Peter?"

Peter looked to everyone in the circle. No way were they gonna hear what Flash asked him. He looked down at the shot glass in front of him. Everyone laughed and 'ooooh'ed as he quickly threw it back, coughing and hacking immediately after.

"Awwww! Baby boy Peter finally tasted his first drink!," you teased, poking out your bottom lip and wiping a fake tear. "They grow up so fast!"

"Okay, your turn, Peter," Brad said.

'Crap.'

He'd thought so much about the fact that he needed to ask you a crazy question to the point that he'd never actually thought of what the crazy question was going to be!

"Well, c'mon hurry up," you urged.

"Better not be lame," MJ warned.

Taking a quick breath, Peter whispered the first thing that came to mind.

"...Are you a virgin?"

Finally, it was your time to stammer. "U-uh, y-yeah.."

Immediately embarrassed, Peter slapped his forehead. "Dude, I-I'm sorry, [Y/N]. Please don't say the question."

Ned smirked. "Now I really wanna know what it is."

"I'm just gonna...," you trailed off before downing the shot, blushing profusely.

The night rolled on and the questions got weirder. As expected.

But one thing surprised you.

Whatever Flash had been asking Peter the last couple of rounds must've been really crazy stuff because your bashful friend was downing shot after shot. Of everyone in the circle now, he was in the worst shape.

Face beet red. Constantly going into laughing fits. Almost totally abandoning his sense of embarrassment. Shamelessly burping (with Ned more than ready to congratulate him for a "good one" each time). And no sense of personal space. When he asked you a question, he was practically kissing your ear.

The best part was that his questions started to get weirder and weirder.

"You and someone else in this circle have to be surgically bound to someone for the rest of your life. Who?"

"Who's most likely to commit manslaughter?"

"If Darth Sidious walked in here right now and ordered for you to kill someone, who would you kill?"

Most of his questions you told the rest of the circle, because they were just that hilarious.

The game was over now. Betty and Cindy went home. Ned was sleeping on the floor. Brad and Flash were quietly drunkenly chatting. MJ drew pictures of the boys drunk out of their minds.

"I didn't realize Peter was such a weird drunk," MJ laughed as Peter began to loudly hum Star Wars melodies.

Flash let out a big burp, laying on the floor. "I think drunk Parker is better than regular Parker!"

"Totally," Brad agreed.

Peter was laying on your bed, mumbling towards the ceiling.

You, also a bit drunk, walked over to him. "Hey Pete, you okay?"

He didn't turn his head but moved his eyes to look at you. "Wow. I'm drunk." He moved over, leaving room for you on the bed. "And my head really hurts."

You hit his stomach. "Well, yeah dummy! That's what happens when you take so many shots!" You rolled your eyes, laying down so that you were laying down beside him, both of you staring up at the ceiling. "Why did you do so many anyway? What type of stuff was Flash asking?"

"Don't worry about it," he mumbled rather quickly. "I'm so tired right now. This bed is so comfortable. Can I sleep with you, [Y/N]?"

You paused. Of course he didn't mean it like that but still, Peter was asking to sleep with you. And he was too drunk to be embarrassed about it.

OF COURSE he could.

"Yeah, sure," you said, like it was no big deal even though this was literally the guy you crushed on for the longest time. "No problem."

Later, MJ, Ned, and the other boys left.

It was just you and Peter now.

He had been done ranting about Star Wars hours ago and was now just staring at the wall. He finally broke the silence as he said, "I don't think I like alcohol very much..."

"You say that," you said. "But I can almost guarantee that you'll be getting drunk again someday." You blew out a tired breath. "And I'll be there to watch you act a straight up fool when you do," you chuckled.

It was fun to see this side of Peter. This carefree, nothing to lose side. You knew that you wouldn't see it often. It's not like you could keep him drunk 24/7.

"Can I hug you?"

You turned around to see Peter staring at you with big puppy-dog eyes. "W-what?"

"Hug- can I hug you?," he asked. "Please?"

"Uh, sure," you replied.

Slowly and clumsily, Peter wrapped his arms around you. "You're so soft and squishy," he giggled with a short hiccup at the end, making it fifteen times cuter.

Of course he'd freak out the second he'd wake up to find himself practically spooning you. And you'd deal with his stuttering and stammering later. But for now, you could definitely enjoy a drunk Peter snoring into your ear.

"G'night, Pete," you whispered, laughing quietly as he mumbled his own goodnight into your ear...

#spiderman mcu #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman fic #spiderman #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom

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minstrivia · 5 years

Text

; let’s marvin gaye | m.

— a/n: a late impromptu valentines fic no one was expecting. even me. sigh. i blame mara.

— pairings: kim taehyung x reader ft. park jimin

— genre: smut, angst, fluff, pwp, infidelity, bestfriend!tae

— word count: 7k+

— warnings: angsty aftercare, cockwarming, breathplay, impregnation kink, creampie, cum eating, unprotected sex, hints of ze MONSTER COCK, soft dirty talk, very soft sex, also soft angsty talk that’ll have you falling in love. this is basically too soft for its circumstances okay??

— summary: it’s valentine’s day. and it’s due time he shows you how it feels to make love.

Even under the unyielding burden of your wrathful glare, the steadfast heavy-handed knocks cease to have a respite; it clatters at the metal alloy hinges of the timbered door, agitating the tauten bolts loose and ricocheting off the walls nearby, raucous and maddening enough to have you lodging your forehead to the exterior in a huff. You know who it is, you're not absolutely stupid. You know the only person who'd have the sheer lack of decency to perform such an act at this formidable hour and a brisk squint through the peephole only affirms your intuition.

You groan, skin grating at the wood when you shake your head. Any other day you would have let him in without a second thought, any other day you would have been the one knocking on his door instead and him welcoming you in with open arms. But not now, not when he's said what he's said, drunken confessions that still have your mind reeling in frenzied thought, not when you've been meticulous in avoiding him in every form for the considerable part of a week.

"Tae, stop it," you hiss, hurling your fist to the mast surface, a clear and abrupt thump, in response to his onslaught. "Do you know what fucking time it is?” You're exhausted, way too jaded to handle his trivial tirade and god, you really just want him to leave. You don't have the time, or energy, to deal with this and frankly, you don't have the courage either. “Just...go home. Please.”

However he doesn't heed your pleads, or rather, he prefers not to. He chooses to pose as if he can't detect the drained sighs that mesh your words and he proceeds to rain down on your door with continued urgency. "Y/N, open your fucking door or I swear to god—"

You scoff. From where you're standing you can't comprehend a basis for him to be any bit annoyed, it's him that's caused the problem, it’s him that has you behaving like this. And if it were anyone else, hammering on your door and disrupting you like he is, you'd have had them reported for improper conduct. But it’s not just anyone, it's him, your longtime best friend.

"You swear to God what Tae?” You shout. “Huh? What exactly will you do?"

Taehyung's all talk, you've known him long enough to discern he's much closer to crying than he is to hurting you or anything around him. So his hollow warnings mean nothing and he knows that. His fist halts upon the door, head hung low as he wills himself not to break down before he can even see you. He wishes he could look at you right now, he’ll know what you’re thinking with a single glance, underlying tells he’s committed to memory; the way the bridge of your nose folds in disgust when he’s eating pineapple on pizza in your presence, the slow disappearance of your pretty eyes when you find something really funny or the way your nimble fingers tuck your hair behind your ears as you chew at your bottom lip whenever someone compliments you. He’s got you figured out- almost, he’s got you almost figured out. Right now, he’s not so sure.

And he doesn't want to lose you, not over this, his heart clenches at the chilling thought; missing the sole thing that keeps him sober of ailing feelings, even if it is from a distance. He racks his mind for his next move, nothing but hush heard for a moment that continues for far too long and despite yourself, you start to fret.

This is what it should sound like, an unbothered harmony that you can find solace in, a place where you can neglect all problems unanswered for as long as you want, and yet, as your mind wonders to the boy behind the space of the door, you realise you can't. Your brows groove in question and your knuckles bend at the silver handle, "Tae?"

"I just want to talk," he mutters, placid uncertainty levelling his voice and it's like for the first time you hear him properly, raw and yellow in his pitch while all prior belligerence parts from his appeal. "Nothing else... I promise Y/N. I just need to talk. And— and if you don't want to...that's fine. Just say the word. But please Y/N, hear me out."

"I—"

This is your chance, he’s given you options, and it's now that your lips can frame around the words of 'I'd think it'd be best if you leave' and he would follow through, he'd hate it but he’d respect your decision with obliterated pride, you know that. All you have to do is say the words. But they throttle in your windpipe, you can't even make it past the initial syllable without jamming up. Fuck. "Hold on a sec," you call out, and it’s whilst you unbolt the locks, twist the handle gingerly and unlock the door, you come to the definite conclusion that you are unquestionably going to regret this soon enough. You swallow at his posture, shoulders slumped and his large hand bound around the transparent wrapper that enclothes the beryl stem of a single red rose.

"It's for you," he declares, urging the flower towards you when he notices your lingering gaze. You don't take it though, your arms remain stubbornly by your sides, undaring to make the first move and his lips twist down into a frown, huddling the item back to his chest with heated cheeks. Too soon, he notes. "Sorry, I just... I saw it and thought of you," he mutters, glancing to the ground and scraping the sole of his trainers to the gravel as he avoids your prying stare. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

He sighs to himself, who’s he kidding? It does mean something. This isn't how he'd expected this to go at all, you were meant to be excited to see him, you were meant to tell him that it’s him that you want- that up until now you hadn’t realised it, but now you do. You’re not meant to look at him like this, like the distance between you isn’t far enough. He’s stumped. "Can I come in?"

"Uhm, sure."

You step back when you open the door wider, shuffling back on your feet when his familiar fresh scent invades your smell. You grimace at the action, he’s your best friend, yet, the title leaves a sour tang on your tongue now and you can't figure out where you stand with him. Everything about this right here is so unlike the both of you, apprehensive delayed actions, scanty momentary eye contact and choppy conversation that seems to have no direction. You can't recall ever feeling this nervous around him, your palms are clammy as you coil your fingers into fists and your heart hammers in your throat sorely. It shouldn't be like this. Not with him.

You clear your throat, palms behind you on the closed door, discretion in your eyes as you watch him lay the flower on the nearest counter, slipping off his shoes as if he has no aim of leaving anytime soon. "Do you want something to—"

"Is he here?" The question tumbles off Taehyung's lips before he can stop it, invasive and abrupt in its deliverance. But he won't bring himself to regret it, he observes you closely as you take pause, struggling to piece together an answer and he rephrases. "Is he coming later?"

"Erm—" You frown. Why can't you answer? "I don't—" Maybe it's because you notice the way he purposefully avoids uttering Jimin's name or maybe it's because you know one gander around the apartment will tell how much you'd really hoped Jimin would be coming. And you're embarrassed. You're embarrassed that he can see the ideally set up table for two which has only felt the company of one, embarrassed that he can tell how much effort you've put into this, exhibiting a scarlet silk bodycon that's much too elegant and much too expensive for a quiet night in and you're embarrassed because you both know exactly where Jimin is as of now, you both know that you haven't crossed his mind once tonight and you both know he's forgotten all about the speciality of the days events. "No, he's—"

"Busy?"

You wince at his bluntness. "Yeah."

He hums, shoulders relaxing as his eyes roam up and down your figure deliberately and you twitch under his gaze. "You look...nice," he says, though it's short of what he actually believes, if he were a little more brazen he'd tell you that you look nothing short of ravishing, he'll tell you how pissed he is that you're wearing such a shapely dress like this, for someone who doesn't deserve it in the slightest. "You have plans?" His question is full of pure malice, he knows the answer, yet, he's enjoying watching you fidget in place under his study. He’s trying to understand you, he’s trying to see if he can uncover the motive to your every move, but you give him nothing, nothing but a reluctant shrug. And this- this he can't fathom; why you continue to turn a blind eye at the wrongdoings of your boyfriend even though it's right there, out and exposed. You're foolish.

You let out a dismal sigh, palm rubbing your upper arm for comfort, "Taehyung, what do you want?"

He raises an eyebrow. Taehyung? Not Tae. Not Taehyungie. You utter his full name as if he’s nothing but a stranger to you. "What I want?" He replies.

"Yes." You nod. "What do you want?"

"The truth?"

Another nod, less brave than the last.

He steps forth, tentatively, one carefully placed foot after the next, floorboards creaking in his wake until he's right in front of you, towering and intimidating as he mounts over you and you have to peep up to catch his eyes. Not that you do. You're stifling in his closeness, wanting nothing more than to bolt away into hiding.

He snickers. "You want the truth?" Could you handle it? His large palms come to retire on the apples of your cheeks, fingers halfway swept into your hair when he tips your head skyward, fixing your eyes on his. His hands have seeped with a coldness that shocks your skin, a clear reminder of just how long he'd stood outside waiting for you and his words aren't any cordial. "The truth is Y/N, I want to tell you how fucking sorry I feel for you. This illusion you have, this perfect world you've created in your head... it's pathetic, it's sad. God. You live a fucking sad life Y/N, you know that?"

No. You shake your head erratically, clasping his wrists to pull his hands off of you. But his grasp is strong and unmoving, the balls of his palms rooted firmly in place. You can’t hear this. Not now, not when you’re feeling this fragile, and possibly not ever. "Tae st—"

"Y/N how fucking far gone are you in your delusions to not see what’s staring right in your face? He doesn't love you. Do you hear me? Jimin does not love you Y/N. He doesn't love you, and he never will, no matter how fucking hard you try—" You clamp your teeth into your bottom lip to stop the way it trembles at the ice in his words, he's stabbing at your insecurities, tearing at your confidence and you know all he's saying is the raw hard truth. It's always been a hard pill to swallow, but it's been there placed in your hands, and now he's forcing it down your mouth, dry without ease, the type that stabs in your throat and wells a dam in your eyes. "—You need to get that into your thick skull, Y/N. Don't be fucking naive. I can't bear to watch you keep up this act, what do you want... pity? Huh? You want him to turn around and realise that he's hurting you, that you're wasting away whilst he's out having fun, pleasuring himself without you? Well, that's never gonna happen... okay? You understand me? Tell me you understand."

Your cheeks puff in and out as you try to steady your breathing. “I uhm—” Your nose crinkles into your sniffles, eyes glazing over with a cloud of water that spills downwards, curving over your jaw when you nod at him slowly. "I understand."

Taehyung’s demeanour softens. He knows he’s needed to say this for a while. But he hates seeing you cry, especially when you’re crying over Jimin. God, he hates him. He’s hated him from the very moment you’d introduced him, your smile wide and bright and your hands interlaced with his, as you’d told Taehyung of how you’d met in the coffee shop and you’d called love at first sight. How naive. Yet, he hadn’t spoken his mind, hadn’t told you that you were looking for a companion in the wrong place; and now look at you.

"Shh, don't cry.” His thumb swipes across your cheeks delicately. “He doesn't deserve you. Fuck, no-one deserves you. And, I—" He rolls his lips together, eyes narrowed as he smiles, his expression is sorrowed and yet comforting. "I love you, Y/N. More than a best friend probably should. But, you know that, don't you? That's why you've been avoiding me, because drunk Taehyung has no limitations, isn't that right?"

"I don't—" You shrug. You're at a complete loss. That night when he'd laid his head on your lap, hands wrapped around your thighs, the smell of dark bourbon still strong on his tongue as he'd professed his love for you, detail after detail of how long and how much he loved you. You'd felt guilty for wanting it, you'd been hasty to brush it off because yes, hearing him say it filled you up with something, something that you've been missing for a long time. "I didn't want to take you seriously," you admit, your shoulders falling and your arms swinging by your sides. "I didn’t want to face you because— Tae, you can’t mean that."

"Feel this." Taehyung guides your palm onto the clothed surface of his chest, aligned to the left where his heart rests and you feel it immediately, strong agile beats that make it seem like he's doing something more laborious than merely talking to you. "You feel it? That's you, Y/N. All you. Every fucking time I see you, hear you, think about you, no matter how far you are. I feel sick. You know that moment when you stand up too quickly and the whole world feels like it’s spinning on its axis, but constantly. That’s how you make me feel. You overwhelm me Y/N, my heart feels like it's bursting out its cage, my stomach erupts with this tingling feeling and it's hard to breathe. It's hard to fucking breathe without you. And somehow that doesn't even begin to explain how much I love you." He laughs humourlessly, allowing his lids to close briefly as he shakes his head. And when he opens his eyes again, it's hard to believe you're still there, looking at him with wide eyes, clueless as ever, trying to understand everything he's saying. You won't. At least, not now.

"Don't try to understand it Y/N. Just know that, no matter how much you try to kid yourself. You don't feel this for Jimin. Because I swear, if you really open those cute eyes and see what’s around you, you'll realise that you don't love him as you tell yourself. That you hide behind the safety of having someone, just anyone. This- this nauseating feeling I have, frightened at the mere thought of losing you, complete infatuation, wondering where you are, what you're doing, if you've eaten. This is love. So Y/N, when you ask me what I fucking want. I just—" He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, teeth chewing at the inside of his mouth. " I just want you to feel what I feel."

“You love me?” You ask. You don’t want to believe it. You shouldn’t want to, but god, besides yourself you’re hopeful. “You love someone as stupid as me, someone, who’s been hurting you all this time. You can still stand here and tell me you love me?”

He nods, “I guess you’re the only exception.”

“Oh, Tae.”

If someone were to tell you that your best friend would be standing before you like this, sincerity swimming in his chocolate orbs as he searched for your reaction you’d laugh in their face. If someone were to tell you that your heart would kickstart into a hysteria that dulls at your rib cage when he leans in that bit closer, or that you’d be lost on the features on his face, soft yet defined, dark brows sloped downwards in seriousness. And his usual impish boxy grin drawn into a hard line across his face, with wine tinted lips. You’d be quick to remind yourself that he’s just a friend. It’s laughable now. You're gripping tight at the fabric of his shirt like if you'd let him go he'd disappear and your lips are hovering each other, both parted slightly as you breathe in the same air. His voice is deep, smooth and raspy when he speaks, “I really do love you.”

Your gaze falls to his lips, the supple curves all too enticing in the moment and when you glance up you find him already doing the same. And nothing can stop your next breathy words, "Kiss me."

There's no room for hesitation on his part, not when he's fantasised about this moment for as long as he remembers. So his fingers curl around the curve of your neck, hand resting below your ear, pulling you into him as he breathes you in, lips brushing yours, not innocently, far from it, it's teasing, fiery, passionate and demanding. And when he pulls back partially, almost waiting for you to resist, you push back, kissing him with an intensity that blurs everything else away. It's slow and soft, soothing in ways words will never be and you realise this is how it should feel. His thumb caressing your cheek, whilst you lose yourself in his feel, an unexplainable warmth spreading throughout your entire body. It feels like magic, his tongue pressing to the seam of your lips and you grant him access, moaning softly into his mouth as he takes your breath away feeling his grin against your lips. If you’d known it would feel this good, you’d have done it a long time ago. It’s not awkward like you’d expected, it’s almost natural the way your lips mould together and you have to pull away first, forehead resting against his, eyes closed, completely breathless.

"God, that was—" Your eyes open to his, there’s a dazed content smile that widens your lips as you see him with fresh sight. Has he always been this gorgeous? “How do you do that?”

Taehyung cocks a brow in question. “What?”

He sounds as breathless as you, chest heaving and his gaze entirely lustful. “This. How do you make me feel like I’ve been missing out?”

He chuckles.

"I want you to teach me, Tae,” you say, pointer fingers snaking around his belt loops in hopes he gets the hint. “Teach me to feel how you do.”

"Fuck, are you—"

"Please."

Taehyung's quick to tangle his hands in yours, tugging you behind him as he practically jogs towards your room. He thinks he's dreaming, he's almost sure of it, it's got to be a dream. Yet, the way you jerk at his arm before he reaches the door, twisting his body to face you when you capture his lips on yours again feels all too real. And his hands' fumble at the handle behind him, before kicking the door open with his foot and pulling you in, slamming you to its surface, to force it close. His hands find place either side of your head, trapping you in his hold, as his mouth explores your skin. You feel his hot breath on your neck, then the tender brush of lips, burning fervent as they make contact. "Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?" He asks though he doesn't expect an answer whatsoever, he doesn't even look for one. His hands grip at your hips, pulling it towards him as his kisses become harder and more urgent, teeth nipping at the surface. "Do you have any idea how much I hate him? How much I hate the fact that he has you and god knows he's never fucking deserved it."

"Fuck, Tae, please," you breathe out, tugging at the bottom edge of his shirt and he helps you in your quest to pull it over his head. Your eyes take him in greedily, his shoulders broad and his creamy skin, curved and dipped with the trace of his toned figure. There's no way you can even compare him to the person you call your boyfriend, not when you're completely mesmerised like this, not when you know Taehyung's the clear winner.

He smirks, "Like what you see?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now it's your turn." His fingers hook beneath your dress, rolling the fabric up as he tugs it over your curves, your arms raised to aid the swift removal. He swallows, cursing to himself when he tosses the clothing to the side and the intensity of his gaze, igniting your skin with a burning fire in his trail makes you want to hide, arms about to wrap themselves over your most intimate parts but his hands grab your wrist before you can; keeping you exposed. "Fuck, No bra? No panties? For him? God, he's a fucking fool."

You blink slowly, heat rising up your cheeks at his words. "Like what you see?" You mimic, hoping to sound a lot more sure of yourself than you are. And he nods eagerly, jaw fixated in its slackened state.

"A lot," he divulges, pressing his jean-clad hips to yours and you feel his obvious excitement, large bulge stroking against your centre, hard and rough. "I like it a whole fucking lot. Now get on the bed for me baby."

You follow his orders, walking backwards, eyes too entranced to leave his for even a second until you bump into the mattress, the collision flattening you against the bed. And you have to drag yourself up by your palms, positioning yourself in the centre, propped up by your forearms whilst your eyes track his movements.

He stumbles around, shoving his jeans and boxers down and before you know it you're giggling at his eagerness. And he glances up, fingers still grasping the waistband of his boxers. "You laughing at me?"

You shake your head, lips pressed together to hide the way the ends of your lips quiver. "Course not."

He smiles. "You won't be laughing very soon," he says and when he tugs his boxers down, kicking it away from his ankles. The laughter dies in your throat like he'd promised because there he is, everything on display for you, his cock, tall, flushed and hard. And it's only when he advances closer you realise just how big he is, his cock is way thicker and longer than you could have imagined, resting against the muscles of his lower abs with the strain of his erection, it’s pretty too, veiny and pleasing, much like his hands; blue and green veins decorating its surface perfectly and it has you gulping quietly, wondering how he manages to contain all of that in his boxers.

"Fuck, Taehyung."

He hums, climbing onto the bed, legs between yours as he hovers over you. "I love the way you’re saying my name," he mutters into your skin, sweeping the angles of your jaw with his lips. His touch is indulgent and his hands, coarse as they are, are silken in their caress; flattening across your collarbones, over the plumps of your breast and past the terrain of your stomach. It makes you shudder, every nerve in your body and brain feels electrified by just this simplicity. And you need more of it. “It’s almost as beautiful as you are.”

“Taehyung please,” you rasp, your hips raising wantonly to his touch as his fingers linger at your pubic bone. He’s got you intoxicated this early on, your cunt aching in your want, clenching over emptiness. He sucks at the skin just below your jawbone, harsh and tenacious and you’re sure of the cherry bruise that’s going to mark the surface when he releases it with a sloppy wet pop.

Taehyung’s not doing any better than you, his cock is twitching in anticipation, but he doesn’t want to rush this, he doesn’t want to treat you like some quick fuck. He wants to show you, worship you, love you. He grunts, “What do you want baby?” He asks, tugging at your earlobes with his teeth and you exhale heatedly.

“Want you touch me please.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” you breathe, too worked up for anything coherent. “Just please.”

“Like this?” His digit slips between the cushy folds of your cunt, sliding over the hardened bud of your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling back as you curse.

“Yes, just like that.”

“Shit, you’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles. “So fucking wet and I haven’t even done anything.” Taehyung could definitely get off like this, his fingers rolling your tender clit, your cunt dewy and soppy enough that it moistens his fingers with sticky nectar; watching the way your eyes roll back when he increases his pressure. He drops his middle finger to your slit, rubbing over it sensually, oily and dark, before he sinks the finger inside you, your cunt latching onto his width almost instantly as your jaw drops in carnal pleasure. “You like that baby?”

“Uh huh.” Your response comes out more like strangled noise, when his finger begins to pump inside you, back and forth, a muggy squelch accompanying the languid action. His actions are mockingly slow and yet the build-up of tension comes like a hurricane; his thumb massaging your clit when he adds another finger, a dual lithe override attack on your senses. Your hands grab at his shoulders, nails imprinting crescent moons beneath the surface as you melt beneath him. “Nghh Tae, I’m—”

His other hand twines around the breadth of your neck. “You gonna come for me, baby?” The pads of his fingers press subtly into your skin, bearing weight on the veins that lay underneath the surface. “Gonna cream all over my fingers, yeah?”

You nod, lips wobbling with the whimpers you release. You’re dizzy, eyes blown out with your shortening of breath and his continuous slaughter on your cunt, that only quickens with time. Your back arches from the mattress, head tipped back completely as your body jolts. And Taehyung doesn’t let up, his hold on your neck sturdy and possessive, and his fingers hooking to your g-spot with every thrust. It’s sensual the way he touches you, the way his stare seethes at your skin as you completely drown in body trembling zest. You fall apart before you know it, explosions of hot white blurring your vision as you cry out.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, his lips swallowing your moans into his when he kisses you. “Let go.” You drop back into the mattress in a heave, lids half closed, face flushed and panting wildly, staggered swallows to get your breath back when he releases the grip on your neck. “You’re so pretty baby,” he praises, unhurriedly extracting his fingers from your receptive cunt and when he brings them up to your sight, they’re coated with milky fluid that he sucks into his mouth without hesitance. He smirks lugging the digits out of his mouth salaciously. “Fuck, you taste amazing too. So fucking sweet.”

Your hands are ready to push him back, ready to pay him back for the orgasm he’s rocked you with but he’s way ahead of you; stopping you before you can make your first move. “Its all about you tonight,” he says. “I can wait until next time to see those lips around my cock.”

You huff. Next time.

“Right now, I need to be inside you.” He takes a hold of himself, he’s been holding back for far too long now, his tip feels like a torch inflamed leaking excessive amounts of precum that he smears against your cunt with a strained sigh. "Fuck, you're still on the pill right?"

You shake your head. “No, I came off it.”

“What?”

You chew at your lip when he looks at you disbelievingly. You’d stopped using it some time ago, you didn’t find any point of it, not when Jimin was hardly home and the times he was, it surely wasn’t to fuck you.

Taehyung sighs. “I can’t— I don’t have a condom.”

One look at Taehyung you can tell how overcome with lust he is, his skin ablaze with crimson and his veins tense and protrude against his skin almost painfully. And everything blows over your head, responsibilities, consequences all fly away into thin air as your need for him takes over.

“It’s okay,” you declare, combing your hands through his hair. “I want it.”

“But—”

“Make love to me Taehyung.”

“Christ, you’re amazing.” He places a fluttering kiss to your temple before aligning himself at your entrance, steady careful breathes from the both of you as you stare at each other, lost in the maze of your orbs; he drives himself into you gradually. And you grit your teeth, nails clawing into his back with your knees buckling as his cock stretches you open, inch by inch, he delves into the warmth of your cunt, your walls sheathing tight enough around his girth to have him growling at the feeling. "You're so fucking tight. Has the bastard never fucked you before?"

"Nggh, Tae—" The way he sinks into you with restraint, all too slowly has you both panting by the time he's bottomed out inside you, reaching depths you hadn't realised you had, the crown of his cock settling against the wall of your womb. "—that feels so so fucking good."

"Yeah baby?" His hands smooth against your stomach, his cock so thick inside you, he can feel the way it protrudes against your belly, a little curve that indicates just how full he's stuffed you. Taehyung groans, resting his face between your neck and mumbling against your neck. "Look at you baby, fuck, I bet you'd look fucking amazing swollen for me. All full and round with my kids inside your belly." He clenches his eyes shut, gripping at the sheets tightly as his cock pulsates at the thought. And you're not much better off, the brevity of his words, arouse you wondrously, nerves alight at the image of having his kids. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah? You want me to breed you? Have you looking fucking radiant, big and round with my kids?" You gasp. His words are unfiltered, blinded by ravenous hunger and you don’t fail to realise how incredibly possible it is; his raw unprotected cock deep inside you, stuffing you to the fullest you’ve ever been. “God, you’d look so pretty. And mine. All fucking mine.”

The heat of the room is almost suffocating, lavender candles burning fervidly to give light to the darkness, your body sticking awkwardly to the sheets beneath and the slickness of his sweat dripping onto you as he hovers over: forearms keeping him balanced and your legs wrapped around his hips. You've been in this position for far too long, you can't see the time but you know. His cock has been nestled balls deep inside your cunt, hard and unmoving as you pulsate impatiently around him, waiting for him to stop this torture of his. You're too wound up for this, all too needy. But you know he loves it, his self-control is unwavering, his mint green hair damp and ruffled, falling haphazardly over his forehead, eyes staring into yours in intoxicating captivating as his heart beats in tandem with your own.

"God, you're beautiful," he says, and despite the fact that you're the only ones in the room, his voice still travels like a honeyed whisper, as if he's scared he'll scare you away if he speaks any louder. "So fucking beautiful." His palms are eager to explore your curves, smoothing up your waist until the tips of his fingers graze against the undermost flesh of your breast. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth when he grabs at the soft mound of your breast, rolling the perk nipple between his long digits, causing you to moan softly at the feeling. He smiles, "You like that?"

You nod, words lost at the entire intensity of the situation. You should hate the way he's looking at you, hate his half-lidded softness that melts at your heart, hate that you can see it, clearly stated in his bright orbs; love and lust. But you don't, you want- crave more. Your back arches to his gentle touch, breaths shaky and forced when he pinches at your nipple, tugging the nub with less delicacy than he's been treating you with before. His mouth descends on your collarbone, tenderly leaving a kiss at the surface and his arm wraps behind your back, arching you towards him further as he trails his kisses downwards.

His tongue is wet and warm when he swirls it around your nipple lazily, eyes focused on the way your chest rises and falls as you give into him slowly. He's waited too long for you to be here, in his arms, seated deep on his cock and he'd be damned if he doesn't savour the moment with all he has, fingers committing to remembering every curve and mould of your figure, his eyes and ears picking up on every breathless moan that leaves your swollen parted lips. He's sure he's in heaven, hearing his name fall from your lips like this, he knows he's got to be. "What do you want baby?"

You want more, you need more. You're becoming restless, hands squirming at his shoulders and your hips trying to persuade him to move, to finally fuck you like you want. But he's persistent to hear you say it first. "God, please, Tae," you whine as he sucks your nipple into the warmth of his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste as his teeth tamely bite at the flesh. "I need you so so bad."

He groans at your words, releasing you to rest fully on the bed as he stares down at you, eyes darting around your face for even a figment of reluctance. "Fuck, say that again."

Your hands find comfort by his cheeks, as you force him to look straight at you. This is wrong, so unbelievably wrong and yet, you can't seem to remember why. So you tell him the words he needs to hear, you tell him the words that sound truer than many things you've said before, you tell him, "I need you Tae." And you kiss him, supple lips meeting his in a kiss that feels all too familiar, he's warm, welcoming, loving, everything you know Jimin is not and you sigh softly against him.

"God, I love you so fucking much," he murmurs, his lips never leaving your face as he peppers you with kisses. His palm massages the bottom of your thigh as he hikes one of your legs up, his knees burrowing their way into the mattress.

"Then show me."

"Fuck."

Taehyung's grip on your waist proves to bruise as he moves against you at long last, elongated deep strokes that aren't gentle in the slightest. His hips snap towards yours sharply, every thrust proving harder than the last, a painful torment that has you mewling and keening for something slightly softer. But you know he won't let up. He's determined, thrusting harsher and deeper, desperate to hear the way you whimper at the feat.

"Oh my god," you stutter, nails scratching down his back with the vigour you know will mark at his skin. You've never been fucked like this, slow enough to be teasing yet deep enough to slam at your cervix brutally. It’s too intense and your mind is spinning, the pain of his repetitive hits sharpen your gasps and wet your eyes.

“God baby, do you know how long I’ve imagined this? How long I’ve— Ngh— jerked off to the idea of— Nghh- being inside you?” You shake your head, nothing but strangled noises spewing from your lips as he hammers into you; the slaps of your flesh meeting resounds loudly, his full balls bouncing against your ass and your hip grinding with his. “Look at you, fuck, you take me so well.” His eyes fanatically watch the way his cock disappears into you, your cunt unfolding and your stomach inflating with his every intrusion. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“Ughh Tae, you feel—” You puff out your breathes as you babble. “—feel so good. Love it.”

“Yeah, baby? You like taking this cock?”

“Yes. YES!— fuck.” Your mind blanks, you’re a squealing mess when he hikes both thighs up, ankles resting on the width of his shoulders, fingers supporting your lower back at an incline when he rams into you at a different angle. Now you’re clenching around him, your walls clamping down onto the smoothness of his cock whilst he penetrates you torturously; adrenaline streaming through your veins that keep you from the brink of collapsing. “Please, please, please.”

Taehyung’s panting and grunting above you, completely drenched with sweat and still as collected as ever. “You wanna come baby?”

“Oh, fuck yes.”

He shoves a hand between your thighs, palm grinding down on the mound of your cunt and overcoming your clit with inexorable pressure that has you open-mouthed, mindlessly chanting his name as pure ecstasy combusts inside you. “That's it, baby, come for me,” he husks, his voice is docile, the pace is unwavering as he rocks you through it. And you feel like you’re shattering, surrendering to his heat, trails of fire burning low in your belly as you relax into it. “Hmm baby, you’re so good for me.”

You’re drained, sodden in perspiration, eyes hardly open as you moan lowly. “Want you to come,” you whine. “Want it to fill me up Tae.”

“Shit, you’ve got such a dirty mouth. You talk to your boyfriend like that?”

You deny it honestly. “No, only you Tae. Promise.”

“Good girl.” His hands bind yours above your head when he presses his forehead against yours, it’s slippery, it’s close and it almost masks the way he starts to fuck you; fast, stubborn, impelling his cock into you in an animalistic manner. Gone are his lovingly slow strokes, replaced by battering thrusts that thump at your womb. And you’re caught unexpected.

“Oh my god, oh my god— fuck, Tae.”

He growls, pressing his lips against yours, and for the first time his kiss is crushing, tongue licking saliciously into your mouth, your teeth clashing together and your lips smacking together sloppily. It matches his frenzy, the uncharted lengths of his stamina as he’s pounding into you. You’re still so tight around him, so warm and slick, and when your walls grapple around him again. He can’t hold back any more. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come. Gonna— Nghh— Gonna fill you up with my cum yeah? Get you nice and pregnant for me."

“Yes, yes, yes.”

His pace falters, his arms quickly locking around the meat of your thighs as he delivers three more sharp, precise thrusts before he tenses above you, keeping himself buried deep when he spills into you, his balls ticcing in his release, strings and strings of hot cum swelling you up full. “Fuck,” he groans, pulling out of you with a wince. The feel of his cum trickling out of you is uncomfortable enough to have you mewling and he chuckles. "Hold on, let me clean you up." He places a brief kiss at your ankle before he shuffles downward, leaving sweet fleeting kisses in every place he passes until he’s face to face with your cunt and he moans at the sight. Your lips are puffy and swollen, cunt pretty and pink with thick globs of his release leaking from you. “Think you’re the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen,” he says, more to himself but you hear it and you’d be embarrassed but you don’t have time for it.

His tongue flattens against the slit of your cunt, and you want to jerk away at the overstimulation but he keeps you in place, arms hooked around your thighs as he begins to lap at your cunt, swirling around your clit. The taste of both of your release merges on his tongue and his eyes flutter to a close, grunting and slurping you up as if he’s starved. But you can’t handle it, your hands tug at his hair to bring him up. “Tae please, I can’t.”

Taehyung grins, licking a long stripe up your clit one more time before coming back up. His smile is wide, and you notice he looks happy, really happy. He collapses beside you, arms pulling your body into his, and you rest your head against his chest. “Jesus, we have to do that again,” he says. “Don’t think I can get enough of you now.”

You hum. Same.

“I love you Y/N.”

You pause. The muted mellow thrum of his heart keeps you at peace, and you know you could stay like this forever, forget the world and find it in Taehyung’s arms. But you’re not sure what it means. At least, not yet. "Tae, I—"

"It's okay."

You nod, because even though you're not quite ready to repeat those three words to him. You know that because of him, you're one step closer. So you look him in the eye, full of arduous sincerity, your lips curve up into a smile. "Thank you," you say. "Thank you for loving me."

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probably-writing-x · 5 years

Text

High Society (The Reveal)

~A Tom Holland AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee

Warnings: In-detail depictions of death and murder, language warning, mentions of violence and gang crime.

Notes: Wow! It's finally here!!! I hope this reveal lives up to your expectations... I'm so nervous to post it ahhhh! Let me know allof your final thoughts...

~~~Wednesday 30th January 2019~~~

"-I am arresting you under suspicion of the murder of Imogen Clarke. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given as evidence," Her voice is certain of every word and you swear for a moment you feel all hearts drop to the tiled floor. Going, going, gone.

~~~Friday 25th January 2019~~~

"Dad, please stop going on about it," You sigh, fixing the light curls of your hair for the millionth time, "Can I not just enjoy tonight? Or is that not allowed after the big sister reveal?"

Peter and Evan were stood in the doorway of your bedroom, clearly giving you extremely unimpressed looks about your decision to attend the Winter Ball.

"It's not just Imogen," Peter points out, nudging at his husband, "You know how we feel about that Thomas kid,"

You let out an exaggerated groan, turning around to face them, "Stop it! You're acting like he's completely destroying who I am. In fact, he's the only reason I actually want to be there tonight. I would be very happy to never have to see Imogen again. But I want to spend one last night at that school before you flip everything upside down again, okay?"

Your outburst was unexpected by all of you and your Dads are stunned into a welcomed silence, both of them looking at their baby girl with blinking eyes, refusing to believe that this school had changed her that much. But it had. And, of course, they wouldn't accept that. She was too pure to be tainted by the posh kids at that school.

"Tom's here," You sigh, more thankful than you'd be able to express to him. Turning quickly to check yourself in the mirror, you brush your hands cautiously over the material of your dainty dress, making sure the boxing gloves still hung right over your heart. You welcomed the nerves, it made this all feel like a real school dance - and not a shattering goodbye.

Tom was waiting at the door when you made your way down the stairs and the shine in his eyes made you instantly know you'd made the right choice with your dress. It was a dark sky blue colour and fell over the curves of your hips, cutting off at the point on your thighs where your stretch marks faded. His eyes echoed a mix of complete adoration and an utter surprise that you'd be the one he'd attend the ball with tonight.

"Hello stranger," He croaks out, quickly clearing his throat to try to avoid his cheeks growing too much of a pink glow.

"Hello, Thomas," You chuckle, realising just how much you'd missed that damn face.

He grabs your hand when you're just close enough to him and pulls you flush against his chest, "Do we really have to go to the ball? Can't we have our own party?"

You hum against his words, welcoming the hot air that they bathed your face in, "Maybe we could sneak a few moments to ourselves,"

"I know this is meant to be some big reunion or whatever but can we please get going?" Sam calls from his seat in the back of Tom's car, poking his head out from the open window.

You laugh and greet the twins who had opted to dress in matching suits for the night. Tom opened your door for you and, soon, the four of you were journeying towards school; still with the sickening feeling in your stomach that it would be your last time.

~~~

The school was electrified with a warm buzz, with all of your year filtering through the doors and welcoming the familiarity of chart songs blasting through the overhead speakers. Tom was greeted by everyone he walked past and he made sure to say hello to them all, still happy to take the title of King of this school. It was only when he saw Lily that he really had to force the 'nice boy' demeanour.

"It's nice to see you Lily," He smiles politely, twisting his hand in yours slightly as though he still needed to confirm you were there, "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Oh relax with the small talk," She rolls her eyes, "Talk to me when you've got rid of the downgrade, honey," Her lips press against his cheek in a bitter display of affection before she's strutting off with an excessive display of confidence.

You speak up before Tom can even try to apologise, "Let's get a drink, I think we might need something stronger than punch if we're going to make it through comments like that,"

His laugh is a sound you didn't realise you were missing as he willingly accepts you tugging him towards the refreshments stand where Noah and Z are visible.

"Well hello, stars of the show," Noah wiggles his brows at the two of you, handing over a cup of fruit punch to Sam who had walked over too.

"Hey guys," You grin, reaching over to get two cups for you and Tom, "Did you have a good holiday?"

All of you engage in relaxed small talk until the sound of the microphone cracking makes everyone's eyes divert toward the stage.

Mrs Osterfield took her position behind the microphone and cleared her throat. It was only then that everyone else joined you: Harrison, Lily, Harry, Noah, Zendaya, Sam, Imogen, Tom and you.

"Well, you all look beautiful tonight guys and I'm glad we can all be here to celebrate together. Something I've really noticed about this group is the community spirit - you are all one big team and that's something that you should really embrace-" She continues with her speech about how brilliant you all were before the lights dim in the sports hall and you're all left in a strange, prolonged darkness.

It is only then that something flashes. You can't help but divert your eyes to Zendaya and Noah, both hiding a deep pride for all of this, clearly being at the heart of the plan. You go back to reading the words spilling across the electronic screen.

'We were all told this term to expose something about ourselves and about each other. But it's time we expose something about the school we're relying on for our futures. How about them completely dismissing everything fucked up that's going on in our year? The manipulation of their teachers by eighteen year old students. The manipulation of other students by people forcing them into twisted relationships,'

Everybody in your group looks to Imogen who is red with a burning fury.

'We're living in a fucked up school. And Lily, Imogen, all of you, this is where it stops,"

The lights don't come back on but the chatter of every student in here is enough to cover any need for illumination. Enough had already been seen. And, in the blue light glow of the enlarged screen, you watch Imogen storm away from the crowd. When you glance back up, Zendaya and Noah have disappeared into the crowd and it is too dark to see where they've gone.

You find yourself following the focus of the recent exposure and you finally catch up with Imogen at the stairs.

"Imogen," You start, watching as she pauses in her high-heeled steps on the inclined floor.

"Did you set this up? Was this all you?" She questions, clearly not holding enough respect for you to justify her making any eye contact.

"No, god, no. I had no idea," You respond.

It felt strange to be seeing her now, not just as the bitch Imogen but as a girl you had spent your first moments as the sibling of. The girl you had the potential to grow up to want to be just like.

"Then what do you want? Are you here for an apology or something?" It is only now that she turns round, arms folded and looking in all ways dissimilar from you. Maybe you were thankful for that - her beauty held a chilling sin.

"I found something out over Christmas and I think it's important that you know," You begin, wrapping your hands around each other to express your nerves without trembling onto the ground.

"Well? Spit it out,"

"You're my sister," You manage to finally release, the words feeling sickening to be directed at someone you wanted to completely despise.

The look on her face was one you were all too knowing to not expect. A mocking smirk and the delicate release of a pathetic laugh.

"What the fuck is that meant to mean?" She scoffs, stepping one stair closer to you.

"What I just said. I was ado-" You begin but she is quick to cut you off, stepping so close that you could see every particle of her makeup.

"Oh, honey, don't act like there's some familial bond between us," She lets out an exasperated laugh, "Because, sis, I'm pretty sure family wouldn't be willing to help somebody steal from me,"

You're sure it is audible when your words clatter against the floor, echoing irritatingly through mocking halls.

"Don't test me, (Y/N)," She shakes her head, "And don't ever assume we're family, darling,"

And then she's gone, leaving you at the bottom of these stairs, sure that you were going to wake up in any moment. Nothing.

You're not sure how long you stay there, sitting against the cold stairs, until someone is there to greet you.

The familiar aftershave of Tom's wraps around you like a blanket as his arms hold your waist with a relieving comfort.

"So I lost everyone at the party, I literally couldn't find anyone," He comments, a harmless remark for now.

Tom pulls himself closer to you, his head only inches from yours.

"Is this our chance to get away?" He mumbles, breath hot as his lips brush your ear.

Tom needs no reply as he pulls you through the corridors and out through the doors towards the swimming pool.

"Tom," You hiss but you can't say anything more as you feel your back press against the harshness of the cold wall tiles. It forces you to let out an involuntary squeak that is instantly silenced by Tom's lips on yours.

You melt into the contact that you had been missing for weeks and forget all about the rest. It was just him.

When he pulls away, his forehead is on yours and his nose bumps subconsciously with yours, "(Y/N)," He begins, welcoming the breathless nature of his words, "I know. I know your parents want you to leave. And I know you're going to leave after tonight," His confession feels like you've just been hit against the tiled wall once again, forceful and unforgiving.

"I-" You start, "How did you find out?"

"I knew your Dads were still debating it so I found Evan's number and I spoke to him whilst you were away," You find yourself gripping onto him a little tighter as he speaks, "I pleaded with him for ages to try to get you to stay. But he said the only way you'd ever be able to carry on here would be if you separated yourself from everyone who's had a bad impact on you. From me,"

"Tom I'm not staying here if-"

"I also knew that would be your response. So, I want to spend this one last weekend with you and then we'll decide your fate after that. We'll decide if you stay or go. But, let's just get away for a weekend," His positive encouragement is enough to make you want to agree wholeheartedly.

"Okay," You whisper and his face brightens enough to make your dark surroundings feel blinding.

"Then let's go, you know what your parents are like. They wouldn't want you to step a foot out of here with me," He points out, his hand gripping yours with more certainty than ever.

Tom goes to pull you away and it is in that moment that everything just stops. The shattering blow was an unmistakable sound and so was the ear bursting thud that followed. And, then, a stumbling silence.

"What wa-" Tom begins but he sees the way your eyes glaze over. The way your hand falls out of his and the way he's sure your heart audibly stops. It is only then that his eyes follow yours, tracing the invisible path to where you couldn't bare to rip your gaze from.

Unmistakable.

You could see how their hands were trembling, and how the trophy fit into them with a deathly uncertainty, a foreign power. Their eyes held a fury that was washed over with a sheer shock at what their own actions had just caused. And their stumbling feet told you that their mind still hadn't processed what their instincts had just caused.

"No," Tom shakes his head, feet chasing after the scene like they'd run fast enough to rewind it, "No, no, no, no,"

It was as clear as day in the dim setting. Her body, unforgivingly lifeless in the scarlet pooling of her once rushing blood. Her eyes, fluttered shut to echo a false hope that she was peaceful, only to be shattered by the ragged wound across her styled hair.

"What have you done?" Tom yells, his eyes diverting around every single feature of this mess.

The trophy clattered to the floor in another bone shuddering clash. And you could see how their hands trembled, a vision of thankfulness for the power they were able ro release from grip.

"She- she knew too much," They stumbled over the words like it wasn't their mouth saying them and it wasn't their hands that had just stopped all knowledge she could have held.

It was in that moment you could see how unreal this all seemed to Tom. In front of him was no longer a person he knew. It was a person he was sure he never wanted to meet. Because, behind trembling hands and crying eyes, there was someone who had just killed another. A murderer. His brother.

"She knew about the gang, and she knew about the pregnancy test," He shakes and the movement is recognisable in his fearful words, "And then I heard her talking to you (y/n), she knew about the necklace and us and Harrison,"

Tom can't possibly rip his eyes away from the boy in front of him but you know he's wishing he could be anywhere else. That he could wake up and have his younger brother again, and not this tainted form of the boy he once was.

"Okay, you need to get out of here," You nod, certain of your unsure words, "Go through the back alley to your house and stay there until we tell you to come back. We'll just say you didn't feel well and you came back once you heard something had happened,"

He looks at you and his eyes are blurring with a terrified haze.

"Tom, me and you need to go. We'll go to the gym and just say that we went there after the whole fiasco at the ball to spend some time together. Nobody will question it," You say to him and it is only then that he makes eye contact with you.

"Tom, am I going to prison?" The younger holland brother asks, and it is only then that he truly starts to cry.

"Hey, hey," Tom steps over to him and grips his shoulders, "You're my brother. I'd do anything for you. That's what it means to be a Holland, okay Harry?"

And then he's running.

You force yourself with everything to look down at the lifeless body. The dried blood that stained her hair and trailed down her face. It all felt too gone. Like she'd been gone for far too long.

"We need to get rid of that fucking trophy," You mention and you're sure that everything around you is spinning apart from that blood soaked weapon.

"T-Tom?"

Both of you look up to see Sam stood frozen in the doorway of the swimming pool, looking between you and Tom like he wanted to run as far away from you as possible.

"Sam, buddy, we need you to do something," Tom states, "I need you to take that trophy, go out the back door, and get it as far away from here as possible,"

Sam can't help but listen to the words of his brother, whom he was willing to trust with his life.

"It was Harry, wasn't it?" He says as his hands grasp the cold, twisted metal of the trophy.

"Now's not the time," Tom replies, still refusing to confirm it yet, "Get out of here, go!"

It is as soon as his brothers are out of here that you see Tom decline. He runs his hands through his hair and you're sure he can feel everything around him crumbling.

"Babe, come on, we can't stay here," You grab at his hand and start pulling him toward the door, wanting to get as far away from the scene as your mind would let you run.

And the two of you set off like there's a fire at your heels. But what really chased at your escape was much worse than any fire could muster. It was the glass eyes of your blood relation, at the cold hands of Tom's own brother.

You're sprinting down the corridor behind Tom and watch as his hands tug at the tie around his neck, throwing it's silk to the floor in an absentminded throw. The restriction in his chest was impossible to stop.

And you were running - away from a fate that was far too sickening to fathom.

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hsj-scenarios · 7 years

Note

heyo, lately i've been suffering awful depressions that cause me insomnia and tiredness at once. i always feel the need to cry and i am just so tired of everything ... mostly depressed because of my looks. sometimes it just happens to me that i just skip school or try to avoid going outside or i hide my face in public places.. is there something you could write about best? something like helping their girlfriends deal with this.. i don't know i can't write prompts or anything.. hahaha sorry

Title: He just held you closer. Pairing/Relationship: All members x ReaderRating: GWarnings: Depression, self-image issuesGenre: Hurt/ComfortType: Oneshot

Dearest Nonnie-chan–I FEEL YOU. We are together on a deeply spiritual level here–not even joking! I am so sorry you struggle with these feelings. I wanted to send you encouragement through this story. I hope you feel my love through the words, and I hope you know that I really do believe this. Every word, everything I wrote–I believe our boys would be this way.

Love you always and forever!!!

Mod J

Please note:

I wrote this story a little differently than normal. I intended to write a story for each of the members, however, as I wrote it, I realized there REALLY were only a few parts of the story that would be different for each member. I wrote the story to fit ALL of the members because I sincerely think it does! After the story, I provide headcanons for what I think would be unique to each member in this situation.

BONUS:

I did the members of 7 as well! MMMWAH!

The knock was becoming louder and you couldn’t seem to lift your head off the couch. You heard the key slip into the lock, and pushed your face into the pillow, because you certainly didn’t want to see anyone today, but you most certainly did not want to see him today.

You heard the door open, his whispered voice as he didn’t want to step inside and scare you, “Baby? You here?”

“No,” you called out, pulling the blankets over your head and feeling a deep pain roll across you that he was in the room with you. You felt your eyes sting with tears, taking a shuddering breath as you drew up into yourself, curling into a ball.

He moved into the room, the door clicking closed behind him, and part of you wished, or perhaps thought it would be right, that he would just leave, just go and leave you alone. You didn’t want to make him sad, you didn’t want to make anyone sad–you just needed to be still and not try to interact because you just weren’t humaning very good these days.

You heard him shuffle over to the couch, making noise so he wouldn’t startle you. You could see through the knit blanket the way he approached you. Slowly, cautiously, like he was walking toward a caged animal–and you understood, because he had never been around you when you experienced one of your episodes.

It had been something you’d managed to avoid–with his hectic schedule and your own methods of covering up and distractions–but this time, he wouldn’t let your normal excuses fly. This time, you were fairly certain at least, he had been clued into your condition by your mother. You would have words with her later about the level of her treachery, you had bigger things to deal with at the moment.

He moved to you, sitting down on his knees by where he was guessing your head was, and you blinked back tears as you saw the concern on his face, the way he frowned, and his eyes were shaded with worry and a tinge of fear.

I am the worst person ever to make him suffer like this. I should never have given him the key. What was I thinking?

You were thinking no one else lived close to you in case there was an emergency.

I guess–but I didn’t ever want to make him hurt–look at what I am doing to him, he’s so sad and hurt and I did that–you did that!

Don’t worry, he’ll see you like this and that will be that, won’t it?

Yes, I guess that’s true, he’ll leave me for sure once he realizes how messed up and fragile and stupid I am.

Probably.

Definitely.

That’s the least of what you deserve! Honestly, I have no idea what he ever saw in me in the first place–maybe it was just being charitable because he’s such a nice guy–and you’ve been waiting to mess this up all along because it never fit.

You never fit with him. He’s an idol for goodness sake, he’s beautiful and perfect and has the best personality and I am like a rock, a lump of ugly next to him.

You never deserved him. Not for a second. He should be with someone who equals him.

Nope, never deserved him. I don’t deserve anyone or anything ever at…

Your self castigation was interrupted when you heard him take a deep breath, leaning forward, his hand moving to lay on your shoulder, his fingers flexing softly as he shifted, his voice soft, “Hey…”

You didn’t try to speak, you hadn’t spoken out loud in days, you weren’t even sure that you remembered what your own voice sounded like at this point, so you just hummed, but it was a sad sound, a sound meant to cast him off, push him away, but he didn’t move, he just blinked, and then he shifted closer.

And then, he was covering you, his entire upper body was pressing against you, his arms wrapping around you to hold you against his chest, his head buried against your neck and your entire body stiffened, you held your breath, every system seeming to lock up.

You groaned, it felt like your bones were going to snap, it felt like the weight of him was going to break you into pieces, and he turned his head, his mouth near your ear and his words were soft, “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

Your eyes clenched shut and you couldn’t breath, and yet, his words continued, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. I was working, but I sent you so many messages, and you didn’t answer. I was scared.”

He took a deep breath, “I called your Mom. I know that’s not cool. I know…I’m sorry. I was just…so worried.”

You shifted, turning your face away from him, as if he could actually see you, even though he couldn’t.

“I called…so many times…I was…I was just so scared.”

I’m a horrible person. I know he was messaging me and I just ignored them all.

You want him to go, you want him to leave you.

I never deserved him.

You felt the tears fall, and you couldn’t breath, you didn’t want to, didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to let him see you cry.

“I love you.”

NO!

You pushed him, you reached out and shoved him, and he just moved closer, grabbed you harder, squeezed you tighter.

“I love you.”

Stop it!

You growled, the tears uncontrollable, and you shoved him again, trying to push him away, trying to make him go. He held onto you like his life depended on it.

“I love you!”

You won’t, not if you know!

“Shut up!” your voice was hoarse and rough, you shifted, pushing harder, twisting to get your feet up, and then he pulled back and he jerked the blanket down off your face and you squealed, grabbing a pillow and covering yourself, “Don’t look at me!”

He held you still, his hand coming up to cup your head, drawing you into his chest, holding you as your body shook with emotion, a broken sob escaping as you tried to gather your strength.

“It’s okay, stop trying to hide from me.”

“I-I…you need to go!” You pushed at him, but it was weak, it was a feeble attempt because there was a part of you that was comforted, finding some measure of solace there in his embrace.

You don’t deserve such things! Push him away, make him leave!

You pushed him again, crying harder.

“Don’t hide from me,” he repeated the words, “I love you. I am not leaving, so stop pushing me away.”

You will leave, when you know the truth! You’ll leave.

“Go!”

His hand moved, stroking your hair, your body shaking as your tears increased, and he didn’t tell you to stop, didn’t try to calm you down.

“Please, just go!”

He just held you closer.

His voice was soft, laced with feelings, “I want to share something with you…”

You couldn’t stop crying to acknowledge him, but he continued, “I don’t think I ever told you how it was growing up as a Johnny…did I?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, his voice soft as he continued, “I didn’t exactly fit in. I felt really self conscious about myself. I mean, that’s bound to happen when you’re surrounded by beautiful people I guess…”

You wanted to laugh, wanted to slap him because honestly, how could he be so stupid. He was beautiful, more beautiful than any of them. How could he see himself so wrong, so unclear.

“Not just about my looks either. I mean I wondered at my ability to sing, because you know that’s pretty terrifying. I wondered if I could dance? Could I be poised? Could I do this? I watched others, and I continually thought that I wasn’t as gifted of a performer or dancer. When I first started, I was kind of lost. I was really lucky to be surrounded by others who helped me, but it didn’t really make me feel any different about myself because when I saw myself, I just still saw a distorted, terrified version of me.”

He sighed, and you took a deep breath, trying to understand what he was saying.

“I mean, I felt this way for a really long time. I was glad to be a Johnny, of course, but there were struggles. It’s a very superficial environment, and it’s easy to get caught up in weird ideas of success and fame and popularity,”

“Sometimes, I was really glad to have people focus their attention on others and not me. But, I mean, that’s stupid, right?”

He laughed but it lacked real humor, “I mean I wanted to be an idol! If you don’t want people to look at you, then you’ve clearly picked the wrong career, but I wanted it. I really did. So, it was all very confusing.”

He squeezed you softly, “I mean…I liked the attention. I liked when people appreciated me, and when they cared, and I started to get fan letters and things–and when fans would cheer, or hold up an uchiwa with my name on it. There’s not a feeling that matches it.”

“But this fear continued to be a part of me–this feeling that I wasn’t all of the things that everyone else was. Someone was always better, always taller or shorter or more athletic, funnier, quieter, sang better, danced better, handled things better, was more popular, more outgoing, more talented. I felt like I was nothing compared to them.”

You pulled back, trying to look at him, hurt by the things he was revealing, your tears heavy, your breath jagged, one word slipping through your lips, “Lies.”

He smiled, it was sad smile, “I believed I was nothing compared to them.”

You shook your head, “Stop, please…”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, and then resting it against your own, “I still struggle with those feelings sometimes.”

“W-why?” You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. He was so beautiful, his personality was amazing, and he was such a fun person, so full of light and happiness and child-like joy–how could he see himself as anything other than the amazing guy he is?

He shrugged, “I’m human. It happens.”

You stared at him, your breath caught in your chest as the words settled over you.

“Do you understand?” His hand brushed through your hair, a tentative smile crossing his lips, “You’re human, too. It’s okay to be human. That’s what we have to remember.”

You struggled with the thought, with the understanding, not able to come to terms with it.

“I love you,” he whispered, and you laughed, a broken sob escaping as you shook your head.

“I really do love you,” he spoke the words louder, “It’s okay to be sad, it’s okay to struggle, it’s okay to see yourself in a way that is contrary to how others see you.”

“You shouldn’t…”

“I shouldn’t what?”

“Love me.”

“I can’t help it, I love you, it’s a fixed point in my life,” he leaned back from you, forcing you to look into his eyes, “I’m not leaving you, I love you.”

“But why!?”

The words came out as a deep mournful plea, and you tried to push him away again, your agitation flaring up, and he grabbed your face in both of his hands, not letting you look away, not letting you hide from him, his words firm and concise, “Because you are YOU!”

“I’m nothing! I’m nothing at all, it is crazy for you to love me!”

He shook his head, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as a fresh wave of tears fell, “I’m crazy in love with you, that’s all…you’re perfect, I love every single thing about you.”

He leaned forward, rubbing his nose against your own, “Your eyes are so beautiful, they shine, they radiate joy and happiness and love, I see it in your eyes, and it takes my breath away.”

“Your hair is so soft and silky and smooth, and it shines so bright, when the sun hits it sometimes it seems like it’s got strands of gold in it.”

“Your cheeks are so sweet, they flare bright red when I look at you too long, or when I tell you these things.”

He laughed when your cheeks grew hot under his hands, “Your lips are so soft, so squishy, it’s the reason I can’t stop kissing them!”

You laughed despite yourself, and he smiled, “I could go from head to toe and tell you all of the things I love about you, about your body, about your face, about every facet of you–but it’s not just that, it’s not just how you look, despite me thinking you are the most breathtaking work of art in all of creation–no, it’s more than that…”

You tried to believe him, wanted to believe him, but it was hard to imagine that these words were true, not when you felt the way you were feeling, but he held you still, wouldn’t let you shy away from him, “I love everything about you. I love the way you smile, I love the way you speak your words with such conviction. The way you put your shoes on and tie them. The common, every day things that I notice about you. I love all of those aspects of you. I love how you see the world and how you help others see it.”

He stared at you for a moment, and then he kissed you softly, “You are who you are because you struggle with these feelings. You wouldn’t be you without the pain. I see the truth in you through my own life–these times of darkness are exactly why you shine so brightly the rest of the time.”

You considered this, considered his thoughts, his words, and tilted your head in wonder.

“You are you because you struggle with depression, because you see yourself the way you do,” he kissed you again, drawing back slowly, “…and that’s okay, I wouldn’t tell you to change it, not at all, what I would tell you to do is to listen to what other people say, not just your own voice. It’s easy to think of others as just saying things to be polite, to be nice–but honestly, our world isn’t that good, people aren’t that good.”

You both laughed at that thought, because he wasn’t wrong.

“You also need to believe me.”

You blinked, nodding your head, knowing it was true, knowing that it would probably be the thing you struggled with the most.

“I won’t ever lie to you, not about anything, and most certainly, I wouldn’t lie or mislead you about how much I love you, how much I adore you.”

You pulled him forward into a hug, your arms trembling as you held him, your voice weak, “It’s not simple. I’m not simple. I can’t just turn this off.”

“I know,” he turned his head to kiss the side of your head, “It’s okay, I’m not in a hurry–and I am not leaving, I’m not walking away, I want to be here. I want to take care of you.”

You tilted your head down, burying your face into his neck, humming softly.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, “Please.”

“O-okay,” you squeezed him tightly, “but…that might mean some days are like this…and I won’t want you to touch me or talk to me…I mean…the worst days…they are like that…”

“I will just bring you ice cream, and sit on the other side of the couch while we watch your favorite movies,” you could tell he was smiling, “Maybe you’d let me rub your feet, or something at some point.”

“Maybe,” you sighed.

“You won’t have to talk, you won’t have to do anything, and if you want to cry, you can–and if you do want to talk, we can talk all day, all night–and if you want to yell, I’ll let you, if you want to hit things, I’ll hold the pillow–there’s only one thing I won’t let you do.”

You pulled back, your hands wrapping around his neck, into his hair, “What?”

“Believe the lies.”

You tilted your head, taking in the sincerity of his expression, the way love flowed so clearly from his eyes, and you couldn’t help it. Somehow you knew in your heart that all of his words were truth–that he meant what he was saying, and that the words you kept saying to yourself were horrible lies. It was a moment of clarity.

“I will need reminding,” you admitted, cautiously, never having told anyone other than your mom about these feelings, about these thoughts.

“I’ll remind you as many times as you need.”

He leaned forward, kissing you gently, his lips soft and tender on your own, and then he drew back, the smallest amount, his hands holding you close, “I will always be here to remind you.”

You smiled, pulling him back into you, your mind trying to wrap around the way his words were threading through your heart, realizing that he really meant what he was saying.

He would always be there to remind you.

I can live with that.

Headcanons

Kei:

Kei would reference to a lot of his insecurities of not being as strong in some areas as others. I think he would have liked to be in the back a lot of times. He loved his job, and he loved his group. He would feel like the reason he wasn’t as popular as the others would be because of how he looked mostly. As he grew up, he realized that it was okay to go at your own pace, to find your strengths and admit your weaknesses and ask for help. I think he is a learner, and would watch others to learn how to handle himself.

He would be super squishy, he’d hold you and touch you and want to even just have a pinkie finger on you if he could. He would respect your boundaries when they revealed themselves, but that would just make him all the more clingy and needy when you were back to normal again. He would have a REALLY hard time on days you didn’t want him to touch you admittedly. He’d be fine with you staying in, he’d let you heal at your own pace.

Kota:

He would most certainly reference his height and weight, something others might admire, he felt like it often made him stand out in a negative way. That was particularly hard on him when the younger “chibi” idols got so much attention. He knew he had power in his voice, but he would lack confidence in his appearance. As he grew up, he came to appreciate his appearance and height as something that made him stand out instead of blending in–actually embracing it and finding value in it.

He would be very soft and his voice would be nearly child-like. He would want a lot of direct eye contact, and he would also pay attention to other details like what you were eating. He would be very observant, hoping to catch you before you drifted into a dark place. He would be super attentive, and while he wouldn’t let you stay inside all the time, he would only take you to places he knew would not overwhelm you.

Daiki:

He would be all about his height, all about being so short, about being called chibi and about how everyone around him grew to look like men but he just stayed the same, ever a 16 year old version of himself. Of course, as an adult, he values this much differently than he did when he was growing up, but it would most certainly be something that he would have struggled with and sometimes no doubt still does. It would be healing for both of you to talk this through. He would also realized that he needed to pay attention to things. That is also a positive thing.

He would literally crawl onto the couch with you, curl up behind you, and hold you for as long as you’d let him. He’d feed you when you didn’t want to eat, and he’d come up with elaborate disguises for you when you didn’t want to be seen in public but he’d insist that you get out of the house now and again. He would also continue to talk to your mom about this, though he would not lie or mislead you about it.

Hikaru:

He would not have been super concerned about thing until he reached his teenage years, and then he would have been very self-conscious about his teeth despite always saying it was one of his “charm” points. He would have also felt a little bit of embarrassment that he didn’t grow up in the same environment it seemed like others did and he often felt stupid or undervalued because of it. As he grew up, he realized that it was the things that made him different that made him a good idol. He also realized, as he observed others, that EVERYONE deals with their own insecurities, and it was nice to share those with trusted friends now and again.

He would literally pick you up and hold you in his arms like a child. He would flutter soft kisses and he would give you plenty of time to talk. He would bring you stupid gifts and stuffed animals and things to make you laugh. He would send you video chats when he couldn’t be there, and he would ask you every day to tell him how you were feeling. He would double, triple, quadruple his words, wanting to fill up your mind with good thoughts and emotions about yourself to outweigh the negative. He would also encourage you to do yoga and such, and research natural supplements that might help you heal.

Yuya:

Yuya absolutely had very few issues with his physical appearance, but he struggled in a major way with the way he viewed the world, and his place in it. Despite wanting to be an idol, he often felt like his heart wasn’t in it, something that set him apart in a negative way from the other idols who seemed to be all in all of the time. He would have went back and forth with his value as an entertainer, as a member of Jump, and thought about quitting A LOT. As he grew up, he realized that there are stages of life, and while he’s young it’s good to take hold of the things that you can do while you’re young–and that there will be time for all of the adventures he could find.

He would force you back so he could hold you closely right there on the couch. Moving forward he would write you a note every day, and he would insist that you write him back, no matter how busy you two were. He would pay close attention to you and your habits, making note of what you were eating, how much you were exercising an such to see if any of those things were effecting your mood. He would be ridiculously patient, and would never force you out of the house.

BONUS: 7

Keito:

No one could have struggled with more insecurities than this precious soul. He would reveal them all, he’d spend three or four days telling you every single thought he’d ever had, and he would cry with you, he’d sob and hold you and between the two of you eventually you’d both agree that you both needed to fix the way you viewed yourselves and you also would promise to remind one another daily as he still struggles sometimes with this very issue.

He would not mind if you only left your house to come to his. He would, at least for a time, want to be with you 24/7 and would be as long as he could. He would bring you magazines and books to read, and he would also engage you into shows and programs he enjoyed. More than anything he would share his extensive love for music by sending you a new song every single day to cheer you up.

Yuri:

He would of course reveal the undeniable truth that he struggles with insecurities and fears even though he always presents himself as the opposite. He would tell you how self-conscious he is, how he doesn’t want to be near people and it makes him incredibly worried. How he works himself into a frenzy of anticipation and fear when he has to do anything without another member of Jump with him. How he feel so awkward and uncomfortable on sets of shows and programs and interviews and how the only thing that calms him down now that he’s grown up is YOU.

He would drag you out of the house, not forcing you around a lot of people but taking you to the park, to the zoo, to the beach. He’d tell you sunshine and movement would help you. He’d plan picnics in the spring, and he’d take you ice skating in the winter. He’d be very affectionate, and most of the healing that would happen between the two of you would be literal silence.

Yuto:

Oh gosh, let’s be honest, he’s got his own encyclopedia of issues without a doubt, all of which he would reveal to you very openly, honestly, and freely. He’d be very proactive in helping you, researching and studying all aspects of depression and determining ways that he could help you. He would be very attentive to you, but he also would refuse to become a crutch. He’d want you to stand on your own two feet, and so he’d be very careful with how he handled your emotions so that your healing would come from inside you and not from him. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just different than most.

He would be very soft to you, his words and manners would be very gentle, but at the same time, he’d have times where he’d just stare at you like you were crazy and tell you to snap out of it. Not in a mean or degrading or negative way, but just in the way of saying “I’m right here, I’m listening, stop feeling like you’re alone!”

Ryosuke:

Ah, our Ace, the boy who seems to have it all. He struggles with enough insecurities and self-hatred for the entire world. He would readily admit to you all of his flaws, and once he’d had you furious with how stupid he was to see himself so clearly, he would quite literally point at you and say “Pot meet Kettle!”* The two of you would be committed to saying one thing you liked about yourselves to the other every day, and if either of you said something negative about yourself then you’d have to say three things that you loved about yourself, no exceptions. He would write notes to you of encouragement, and would send you cute things all the time as a surprise, but all of them would always be related to something you’d discussed in one way or another. He would always include a note explaining how the gift applied to the topic.

Lord, he would be like a human blanket 24/7. He would be very affectionate. At the same time, on the days when you didn’t want to be touched, he would have deep respect for that, and settle for feeding you your favorite foods or treats that he made for you. He would constantly be coming up with new ways to make you smile, new ways to make sure you knew how much he loves you, and more than anything, he’d be very proactive in helping you find hobbies, activities, and such that would promote a happy, whole feeling in you. He would also encourage you to go to counseling, AND to take meds if necessary. He would remind you daily if you’ve taken them, and he would drive you to your appointments. He would be careful to not push you, but he would also be very clear that your well-being is intricately entwined with his own, and when you don’t take care of you, it hurts him. You would obviously be more than clear that this was a two-way street.

*I realize this might be an American idiom which others may not understand. The meaning of the phrase is said to have come from lots of sources, but the one I trust the most is from an early issue of St. Nicholas Magazine from 1876:

"Oho!" said the pot to the kettle;"You are dirty and ugly and black!Sure no one would think you were metal,Except when you're given a crack."

"Not so! not so!" kettle said to the pot;"'Tis your own dirty image you see;For I am so clean – without blemish or blot –That your blackness is mirrored in me.

It is literally referring to the fact that the person who is pointing out the reason others were wrong or broken in their way of thinking is just as guilty of the same flawed thought process.

#Hey! Say! Jump #Yamada Ryosuke #Yaotome Hikaru #Chinen Yuri #Inoo Kei #Arioka Daiki #Nakajima Yuto #Okamoto Keito #Yabu Kota #hey say jump #oneshot #drabble #Takaki Yuya #drabbles #Mod J

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