#the only crime he commited is stealing my heart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haet-sal · 11 months

Text

An Attic Affair//Younghoon x reader smut

Since the Kim brothers moved in, your life has been hell. Sunwoo took over your room and made you sleep in the attic, and Younghoon… well, you don’t mind seeing him. What makes it hellish is that you’re incredibly attracted to him, and he doesn’t even seem to notice you.

Tags: stepbrother smut, KINKY fingering scene (but who cares youre already fucking your stepbrother), he calls u a 'SLUT', scene of watching porn + lots of masturbating, PERV!hoon+sunwoo (panty-stealing & ogling), perv!you, hoon calls himself "oppa" once, unprotected🤷‍♀️, BULLY!Sunwoo, hoon is VERY NICE to you

W.c.: 5.5k

Excerpt; “Don’t worry,” he says, “oppa learnt a lot about making dumb little bunnies like you cum. I bet I can make you cum… hmm…” He flicked your nub, making you squeal. “... with just a flick of my finger.” He’s still laughing at how you were trying to compose yourself, and failing.

“Move over, idiot.” Sunwoo pushed you out of your high chair, and sits down with his breakfast. The same way he pushed you out of your room.

“You decided last week that that was your seat,” you say, pointing to the chair across from you two.

Sunwoo grunts. “I’m sorry, we have ‘permanent’ seats in this house?”

Your mother says it’s just the thing with having siblings now, you’ve been an only child so you don’t know how to share—why couldn’t you be more like the Kim brothers? When Sunwoo calls her ‘mom’ your mother just goes nuts with pride, so when he asked her, “mom can I please have Y/N’s room, it’s so much bigger,” she immediately gave it to him.

You couldn’t even move to the guest room, because it was now taken over by the older brother, Hoonie—who had moved into an apartment in the city, he didn’t even live here—but they wanted to keep his room and stuff there, so you had to settle for… the attic. Bullied out of a bed by Kim Sunwoo, who in the eyes your mother could do no wrong.

It wasn’t enough that he saw you battling with attic dust and cramped space every time you came down out of a ladder for breakfast, Sunwoo had to take everything else from you—your seat at any table, your laptop because his kept ‘freezing’, any alone-time you could get—and still wasn’t satisfied. Sunwoo was a bully. You didn’t know how your mother couldn’t see it.

You didn’t hate all the Kims, though. Your new stepdad was a great guy, the perfect fit to your mother’s jigsaw puzzle of a heart, and Younghoon…

You didn’t hate Younghoon. You didn’t even know how someone could begin to hate Younghoon. You first met him wearing some shabby Christmas sweater, but on the day of the wedding, he had a suit on…

You got cake frosting in your nose staring at Younghoon back at the wedding. You didn’t understand how fabric could be so sinful, more sinful than nakedness, how the thin white silk shirt hugged his chest, and the length of his legs exaggerated by the tailored pants… Younghoon was like a vision of a dream you couldn’t get enough of. Thank God he lived in the city, away from you, or you would have committed multiple crimes.

As you were staring Sunwoo down at the breakfast table, the front door suddenly opens, and two long legs strided into the dining room, to your surprise—Younghooon is in the kitchen, picking out muscats out of a bowl. “Hey, appa. Hey, mom.” Younghoon had started calling your mother ‘mom’ too, to your disdain. “I got a break from my job, and my roommate’s got his girlfriend over the whole time, so I thought I’d just come see you guys. Surprise?”

He takes a seat beside you until you’re sandwiched between both brothers. Your mom shot a look at you—“Sweetie, let them sit together, they haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Once again pushed out of your seat, you frowned, only Younghoon goes: “that’s alright, we’ll let her eat in peace.” He shot a look at Sunwoo. “You haven’t been more of an evil bastard, have you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Younghoon was only there for the attic thing, and not the laptop-borrowing and all the bullying that’s been going on.

You knew Sunwoo was a bit of a perv to other people, but… he wouldn’t steal your panties, would he? It’s weird, because it happens sporadically—once when you still kept your clothes in your old room, and right now. It’s just that he took your favorite lacey, pretty-pink-and-yellow ones, so it’s hard to not notice.

You rifled through your closet in the attic trying to find the missing panties. You thought you’d wear them, just because Younghoon’s around and you need your intimates to feel sexy. But they’re nowhere around.

Sunwoo couldn’t have, right? He’s not that sick. But who else could have? Certainly not Younghoon, who only ever even smiles at you out of obligation.

You won’t confront Sunwoo, though, just to not embarrass the both of you. He’d just deny it anyway… And currently he was hogging the bathroom just because he knew you were planning to shower.

You’re clutching your change of clothes to your chest as you knock on the bathroom door, trying to word your commands as sweetly as you could: “Sunwoo, I need to shower before my appointment!”

“You can’t rush me,” he retorted. “I’m doing my 16-step skin care routine.”

“Sun—” Your yell got interrupted, as you froze on your spot, to see a half-naked Younghoon with a towel around his waist, coming up to you.

“Oh,” he says in realization. “You were waiting on him, too? Then you can go first—”

“No!” you gasped. “No, you should—if he decides to come out, that is.”

“Hey, it’s your home,” he offered with a friendly smile.

The door swung open, and Sunwoo marches out, also half naked but ineffective on your psyche. You knew he only came out because he heard Younghoon, not because he finally felt some pity for you.

“16 step skincare routine?” Younghoon says with a sing-song.

“It’s how I keep my face baby-soft, loser.”

“Looks rougher than those basketballs you throw around to me.”

Wordlessly, Sunwoo reaches for the towel around Younghoon’s waist, and pulls it towards him, laughing maniacally as it comes off, and he throws it into the air before exiting the scene. You turn away from both boys, staring off, holding a scream inside your throat.

“Hey,” Younghoon says with a laugh, “Y/N, it’s fine. I had boxers on.”

“Wh–What? Oh.” You bat your eyes until you’re seeing clearly; Younghoon had boxers on, those baggy plaid boxers perfect for lounging around if he were living alone.

You imagined him on the couch, absentmindedly watching the TV, manspreading, the outline of his dick thick and dark in the shadows it casted. He’d reach under the waistband of those boxers, eyes still fixated on the TV in front of him, and start palming his cock, until it grows pink and needy—

You drop your change of clothes you had just thinking of it, and Younghoon looks dumbfounded. As you both reach out to grab them off the carpeted floor, Younghoon’s body ends up so close to you, half naked, almost like a side-hug. You feel his chest against yours, body so warm and real and solid.

He’s so hot. You pull away. “Um, you should shower first,” you offered. “You’re… older, and all.” You ran back to your attic screaming internally.

Brother, you tell yourself, that’s your step brother. Jeez, please, chill out, Y/N!

But you just felt his naked chest against your body, like if he were holding you in bed—

What bed! You groan. You were sitting on the mattress in the attic with your towel and clothes, waiting for Younghoon to finish showering. You willed yourself to not think of what he looked like naked—you’ve already seen enough. A whole lot. And still it wasn’t enough or you?!

“It’s so perfect that Younghoon’s here!” your mom starts to say. You’re confused. Why? “I wouldn’t have trusted you two here, but with your big brother here, maybe me and your stepdad can go on a trip!”

Sunwoo just grunts in response. You’re aghast—not that you didn’t trust Younghoon, but even your mother wouldn’t defend you against Sunwoo’s raids—how would Younghoon?

But the older boy grinned at your two parents. “You two should have fun, mom and appa,” he said. “We’ll take care of the house.”

Your parents were packing for the trip, as they hurriedly booked a hotel with a lakeside view. You sat on the bed in the master bedroom, helping your mother with her luggage. “Do you have to go?” You couldn’t bear thinking about what Sunwoo would be like if some adults weren’t around.

“Younghoon’s here,” your mom assured you.

The said man was currently leading against the door frame talking to his dad about sunglasses, and if they were gonna swim in the lake. You sighed, dreamily staring at him. Just all the fun you couldn’t have… From downstairs, you could hear Sunwoo loudly playing fifa.

“Younghoon’s very responsible,” says your step dad. “He was resident advisor back in college!”

“Nah.” Younghoon scoffed cooly. Since returning to town, he had cut his hair the way wall street brokers do—clean cut, full forehead showing, dark brown hair pushed aside. The perfect son-in-law look, too bad your mother already calls him son. “Resident advisors are assholes on power trips. I was just the guy that helped deal with them.” He grinned, shooting you a look. “Hey, young lady, before I forget, I brought you a present.”

You raise your eyebrow in confusion, gingerly following him out to the former guest room—which was better than Sunwoo’s current one, and big enough for two people. You’d be mad at both brothers, if only Younghoon wasn’t so goddamn nice.

“Here.” He handed you a neatly folded burgundy-brown hoodie, incredibly similar to the one he wears to bed. You couldn’t control yourself from bringing it to your nose, and it smells like him, freshly taken out of his luggage, where it had laid folded next to his cologne and aftershave. So heavenly, boyish, sexy. It felt like hugging him.

“Thanks!” you chirped to Younghoon. “You’re the nicest.” The hoodie was a medium version of the oversized one he wore to bed. It’s disgusting to make a coupling joke with your step brother, so you don’t.

You looked back at the luggage it had come from, and you just… thought of something. Wouldn’t it be so cool, if you could have Younghoon’s actual, well-worn clothes? Like one of his soft giant shirts? Something that was just entirely his?

You’re so stupid. But it’s just a crush—you just needed to get over it. Right?

Well, you thought, if Sunwoo could (allegedly) steal your panties, you could take Younghoon’s shirt.

While Younghoon and Sunwoo had dinner on the empty first floor—your parents had left already, adding to the stillness—you had an amazing idea. A horrible, perverted idea, but amazing nevertheless.

You open the door to Younghoon’s room ajar so it didn’t creak, and rifled through his bag. Where was it, the pristine-bleached white shirt, with the badge on it, that makes Younghoon look like an Abercrombie model? Your hands brush against the cold glass of his cologne, and you bring it out to sniff the top.

Like a creep. At least you weren’t sniffing underwear or something, ew—it was just cologne. Expensive french cologne.

Everything in his luggage was oversized and therefore too conspicuous if you take it away, so you decided to go through his unfolded just-dried laundry, which he had just done. Going through the first couple items… something flimsy and lacey fell out of it.

You thought you knew what it looked like, so you grab it from off the floor. Your panties, the ones you lost. What was it doing here… You felt embarrassed by the thought of Younghoon seeing your panties, so you just pocket it, thinking it got mixed in from the washing machine—ugh! That’s so embarrassing.

Under the pile, you find the white shirt you were looking for, and giddily take it away. He’d just think it had gotten lost somewhere, right?

You take it and threw it up the attic, ready for whatever you were going to do with it. Emphasis on whatever.

You go back downstairs to greet the brothers like nothing happened, you knew you had to do their dishes soon, which you think was your duty—only, Younghoon is pressuring Sunwoo to do them.

“You can’t just not wash your own plate, loser.”

“Why not? I let our dear little sister wash them, all the time,” Sunwoo says with a laugh.

“Sunwoo…” Younghoon sounded like he was losing patience. “Be nice to y/n.”

“No,” Sunwoo retorted, “why should I?”

“You wouldn’t do this if you didn’t like her, though,” Younghoon said in a scolding, all-knowing tone. “If she was ugly you’d leave her alone—you’re too obvious. Have some respect for the person that gave up their room just so you could jack off in it.”

You could see Sunwoo’s face, but from the back you could see that he literally flinched, stepping backwards out of instinct. Younghoon didn’t care. “Now I’ll wash the dishes for tonight, but tomorrow you’ve got no excuses, okay?”

Sunwoo didn’t dare storm away, but he got out of the kitchen as fast as he could; you hid yourself behind the stairs until his footsteps disappeared into your old room.

You felt semi-bad about causing a fight between the brothers, so you gingerly approach Younghoon at the sink, where he was getting the water ready, and offered to fill in for him. “I… usually do those,” you say softly. “Let me?”

“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Younghoon assured you with a smile, “I’ll wash them—or Sunwoo will wash them. For this week, just relax, can you do that for me?”

He reacted to your surprised expression by ruffling your hair like you were a little kid, and then avoided your body to grab the dish-washing gloves.

Can you do that for me? Jesus, it sounds like ‘can you do that for daddy?’ like in every porn you’ve seen before. The way Younghoon stood up for you gave you a knot in your stomach, and not even the bad kind, which you were so concerned about.

Now you feel extra bad for what you were planning to do with his shirt.

~~~

You type in ‘stepbrother’ into the search box, already cringing, toes curled and fists clenched. Eww, you did not want to do this, but your neanderthal brain was telling you otherwise.

The guy in the video is a white guy, so different from Younghoon, but soon he’s feeling up his costar, while she pretends to be unaware. You wondered what you would do if Younghoon did that to you, although he wouldn’t. He was just so clean-cut, and didn't seem to have a hint of perversion in his head.

You started to think of Younghoon’s cock in those plaid boxers again, the thickness of the shaft, the whole head of it, although left to your imagination it grew hot in your mind; you started closing your eyes and teasing your clit with just one finger, thinking more about Younghoon than concentrating on the porn, until it was just a mess of moans to you and it was Younghoon acting it out with you, in your head.

“Yeah, you like your stepbrother’s cock that much?”

You grabbed the shirt now, the fabric thin from being so well-worn, and stuffed the fabric in your mouth, the scent of it—Younghoon’s smell, his detergent and after-shave and just him—around your face reminiscent of what it would be like if he were gagging you, three fingers in your mouth— “shh. You wouldn’t want mom and dad to catch us, would you?” You shivered already, toes curling as the thought of him fills you up the way your fingers filled your cunt up.

With the video still playing, you toyed with yourself mercilessly, as if you were trying to get a rise out of yourself, moans perfectly muffled by the shirt that there was no way either step brother could hear from downstairs.

You came to the thought of Younghoon, his kind eyes turning feral as he watched you this way, hand inside your soaked panties and your pajamas unbuttoned that he could see your chest; you imagined him standing over the mattress, watching like a freakishly tall stalker.

When you open your eyes, he’s not here, and the audio plays blaringly from your headphones as the actors crash into each other, less chemistry than you and Younghoon had. You spit the shirt out of your mouth, his scent still lingering.

“Ah, I love your fat cock!” “Yeah, your tiny cunt is squeezing all my milk out of me—”

You hurriedly close the tab, cringing. Ew, did people actually talk like that during sex? You’d only had it once—the one time you lost your virginity to some kid named Soobin in college—and it was done in complete silence and whispers and coos, nothing like the pornographic monstrosity.

You quickly delete your history from your laptop, in case Sunwoo comes to borrow it again—imagine if he’d found stepbrother porn in your history. He’d get the wrongest idea in the world.

Or what if Sunwoo figured it out? That you were head-over-pussy in love with the older Kim? That would be so fucked up, a new way for him to torment you. You could never let him figure it out.

“I’m having a party,” Sunwoo tells you, as if it wasn’t obvious from the way he was setting up food and beer and one-use cups. He toiled with a beer bottle in one hand, wondering if he should start drinking before anyone even got there. “Just don’t be here because I don’t want my friends making comments about you, or anything. Also, help me set up the chips table first.”

“You’re not in high school anymore, idiot,” you replied, having half a mind to slap the chips bowl out of his hands. But then he’d just make you clean it up. “And I’m not Cinderella to help you with a party I’m not even allowed to go to.”

“Okay, attic rat.” Sunwoo was fluffing up pillows. “Just be gone when they get here, understood?”

You looked around the house—Younghoon had left to meet his friends, and wasn’t there to defend you, and maybe Sunwoo is right, maybe you should haul out, you didn’t want his friends making comments about you, either.

You shot Sunwoo an indignant look, though. “Go fuck yourself.”

“That’s no way to talk to your brother.” He drinks the pre-party beer.

When Younghoon comes home from having coffee with his friends (Jacob and Kevin), it’s late and his house is up in lights and loud with Sunwoo’s new age rap blasting from the speakers, and the smell of alcohol and weed overwhelmed his every sense to the point that he could taste it.

He found his brother smoking with a girl in the back porch, and immediately dragged him back into the house by the nape of his neck, leaving the girl stranded there. “You threw a party?”

“I haven’t had the house to myself since forever—”

“All you gotta do is move out, you sock.” Younghoon looked around the house. “Where’s Y/N? You know if your troublemaker friends see her, it’s gonna be a whole thing.”

“She’s been gone since I told her we were having a party, I think,” says Sunwoo. “I told her to get lost, anyway.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Younghoon chides under his breath, but Sunwoo goes back to drinking his beer out of a used cup like he didn't hear him.

The party was continuing downstairs, and the 2nd floor was more deserted. Sunwoo’s loud rap music seemed to die down slowly as Younghoon got on the 2nd floor… and then started to unlatch the ladder towards the attic.

The sounds muted down completely once he’s in, and he quickly pulled the ladder back up to cover his traces, and also so no one could follow him and interrupt.

He started his routine of rifling through your underwear drawer, last time he got lucky with those pretty pink panties, so now he wanted something else, something just as precious and sweet that makes him cold-sweat from the tension in his lower belly. From the moonlight streaming in from the skylight, he finds a pair of panties, white with a ribbon on them, pretty but cotton instead of lace, and he decides, as good as any other. Younghoon brought it up to his nose, and smelled only the detergent and fabric softener, and not a sense of you.

Needing you desperately, he heads over to the bed, thinking of lying on the same mattress as you, trying to think of what you’d look like all these nights when you touched yourself, whatever you touched yourself to. He crawled on his hands and knees onto the mattress, thumbing over the panties like he would with your skin, until nipples hardened and tight little warm walls twitched.

~~~

You were awoken as you felt movement on the other side of the mattress. You’d fallen into a deep sleep since Sunwoo told you to get lost, thinking you’d crash at a friend’s for the night, but you’d fallen asleep even through the party. Goddamn it. Now who was in your bed?

You rolled over, until you were nose-to-nose with Kim Younghoon himself.

You screamed. “Younghoon?! What are you doing here?” But your bodies were so tangled in your sheets that he couldn’t get away from you, and was in fact actually tied together, you basically on top of him.

“Y—Y/n!”

“What is that you’re holding?” you ask; it’s too small to be a phone. Unless… no way.

Younghoon tries to shake off the feeling, but he’s still frozen in his flight responses, frozen while you touched him and wrestled the fabric out of his fists.

“My panties?!”

Busted. Younghoon’s face was heating up, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark. “I–I was—” he started. “Uh, just… going through your laundry?”

You’re the one frozen now, and Younghoon quickly disentangled himself from the sheets, uncovering the little white mass stuck in the foot of the mattress—holy shit. “Is that my shirt?!”

He picked it up. “It’s stained.” You have no words, so Younghoon looks back at you, grinning maniacally. “Were you being naughty?”

It’s horrible how his entire demeanor could change in a second. Under the blankets, he started to touch you, not even a little shy, grabbing you close by the waist so horribly hot and warm. “Ah, so you were cumming to the thought of me, your step-brother?”

“I—I’m sorry!” you squeaked. “Wait, my panties—are you—are we…?!”

“Do you want me?” Younghoon asks, voice dropping several octaves just so hoarse and sexy. In the dark, he stared at your form with glinting eyes. “I do,” he says when you wouldn’t. “I want you so, so… bad…” His fingers crawled up your bare thighs—you were wearing just a night dress, flimsy and short.

“You don’t even notice me,” you huffed.

Younghoon scoffed it off, although he looked concerned. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, “plus your mom and my dad wouldn’t have liked it if I kept staring at your legs, like Mr. Obvious downstairs. Although, I did stare, when you were just too… juicy to look away from.”

You’re aroused, it showed. “R–really?” you squeaked, trying to keep your hands to yourself. He was still wearing his outside clothes, a button down and actual tailored pants. He smelled like his normal cologne, too.

“You’re a sick, sick, girl, you know? Wanting to be noticed by your step brother…” His free hand cupped your face to make you face him, harsh against your skin. He hummed, as if deriving pleasure just from touching you. “But don’t worry, I won’t punish you or anything. You know I’m the nice one.”

“Younghoon…” Your hands go up to press against his shirt, although not pushing him away, yet.

You hear him hum again, this time with a little giggle. His hand is trailing up your bare thighs, now landing between your legs, at the very core where all the heat and pulsation were coming from… He prods it with just one long middle finger, rubbing against the nub and the slit—although it doesn’t catch your clit to stimulate you, the lewdness of your step dad’s son's hand behind on your bare cunt was doing enough.

“No panties,” he observed with a cocky laugh. “And wet. What, were you dreaming about me?”

You moaned his name again. “Please…” Your hands went to his shirt and grasped onto a bunch of the fabric, like pornstars grabbing on bedsheets. You could feel his heart, and despite his demeanor, it’s pounding so hard in his chest.

“How many fingers do you think you’re ready for?” he asked.

“Um… two.” That’s a good number to start. His fingers are long and thin, but bigger than yours anyway.

“Hmm, you are tight.” He was prodding you with one finger, and when he enters, two fingers in you—it’s almost too tight in you, too much, too soon. Stuffed up inside you, so foreign.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “oppa learnt a lot about making dumb little bunnies like you cum. I bet I can make you cum… hmm…” He flicked your nub, making you squeal. “... with just a flick of my finger.” He’s still laughing at how you were trying to compose yourself, and failing.

Suddenly the door to the attic unlatches, the stairs springing down. Your goddamn attic wasn’t lock-able, from either side. Goddamn it. Younghoon stops everything, his free hand coming up to cup your mouth, eyes wide in alarm. “Shh,” he whispers to you.

It was a couple of Sunwoo’s friends. “I don’t know if I want to go up,” one guy was saying. “There’s spiders, and it’s Kim Sunwoo’s house—who knows what kind of monstrosities he has lying around?”

“You want to do it in his parents’ room?” This was another guy.

Younghoon’s fingers were still inside of you, and slowly, they begin to curl, uncurl, curl… You suppress a moan by biting down on your tongue, but the guttural sounds threatened to spill out of your throat.

To silence you, Younghoon hurriedly planted a kiss to your lips, tongue fighting its way in and taking over yours, when you moan it’s right into his mouth, the sound getting muffled and tortured and he kisses you with more force. His fingers up inside of you are now working faster.

You think you’d scream if he didn’t stop—or also stopped—you shut your legs, but his long, veined arms are persistently still stuck and working between your thighs. When you open your eyes, you see the moonlight catch in his fanged teeth—he’s laughing soundlessly at your plight.

“This is creepy,” the partiers were saying. “I’m high, anyway, I think I’d fall of the ladder if I tried.”

“Right. We’ll go to his parents’ bedroom—if someone hadn’t beat us here.”

Younghoon looked at you, releasing you—both hands now away from you, body pinned against yours. The ladder was still down, the light from down the stairs spilling upwards.

“We should close…” you started to say.

He kissed the back of your ears, one hand pinning your arm down. “Mmm… I like knowing someone could walk in…”

“Hoon, we’re not meant to be doing this, we’ll get in trouble. You’re my step brother.” Now you really sounded like a pornvid reciting its lines.

Younghoon shushed you, parting your legs with his knee. Your bare pussy under his legs, you couldn’t help yourself from grinding against his thigh. “Such a bad girl,” he remarked in a strained voice. “Ah.” He lifted your leg up higher, and took himself out, rubbing the head against your cunt. “You want it?” His voice was still deep from whispering.

You simply nod.

“Use your words…”

“I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Tell me how much of a bad girl you are,” he says, tone still teasingly tantalizing. “Tell me how much you want your big step brother’s cock buried inside you.”

“I want my step brother’s cock in me, I’m so bad. I’m so… hnng, fuck…” You couldn’t reach the bed sheets, so you just grab Younghoon’s shirt again. You were making an untidy mess of his outside clothes, although he still had hair still perfectly parted like for an event, he looks amazing. And he’s inside of you, buried all the way, he zaps his head away from you just to make a guttural grunt. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so bad, you… you know that?” He pulls out, only to slam back in, and you squealed.

“Already? I haven’t even…” He’s now obeying the urgency in your eyes before you can even say ‘faster’. He’s quick and fast and thick and hard in you, and he’s starting to break out in sweat just from the heat of it all.

He tears the rest of the blankets away from your bodies so he could thrust into your pussy easier. You just hear his panting, and just to silence himself, he bites down on your shoulders, and up your neck. You hear “hnngg, yeah~” out of his lips, like he was having a hard time controlling his own pleasure spilling out from him.

You moaned. “Sunwoo’s gonna see these…”

“And think you’re a slut that fucked one of his friends,” Younghoon says. “Is that what you are? A dumb little whore that just spreads her legs for everybody?”

“N—no!” You’re doing everything just to not scream, but it’s excruciating holding it in. “I’m n–not a slut. I’m just a slut for—for you, Hoon…”

Younghoon laughed. “Is that right?”

He switched the position to missionary, holding you underneath him as he pounded your poor cunt, the same way he imagined he would when he was masturbating with your panties. You hear his strained panting again, his lovebites still stinging along your neck. You threw your head back and moaned.

“So, so wet… baby…” It grew sloppier, with sounds of the wetness of your cunt and his precum, disgustingly mixing. Younghoon fucked you harder now, knowing he had to pull out soon. “Fuck… fuck!”

Your hands crawl up from under his shirt, scratching his back. He was so big, every part of him… you sink your nails into his waist. “Ugh, Hoonie…”

He hurriedly took himself out of you, panting, to spill his seed on your stomach. You still had your nightdress on, and the cum got on it, white against white… It’s almost beautiful, a ruin of your innocence. It satisfied Younghoon enough, that he just fell back into the mattress beside you, catching his breath. “I’m… sorry…” he said. “Ugh, I feel like such a bad man.”

You wiped it off your belly with the dress, and then took it off. “No, I liked it,” you reassured him. You put the dress away into the laundry basket, and put on the hoodie that he’d given you, grinning at him. He had his eyes closed, slowly feeling the post-ejeculation clarity.

You crawled over and shut the latch, blocking it with a box so no one could come in. “Seriously, though… Sunwoo might see your hickies,” you say.

“Let him.”

“I don’t want him to call me a slut, to add to everything else he calls me.” There was a truthful sting in your voice that Younghoon felt the pain. He gathered you in his arms, until you were just cradled so tiny in his chest.

“Shh, it’s alright.” Younghoon kissed the side of your face again. “I’ll take care of you, okay? You’ll sleep in my arms tonight.”

“What the hell is that?” Sunwoo demanded at the breakfast table, cups still scattered around the kitchen counter.

“What the hell is what?”

“You got laid last night?”

“Kinda weird that you notice it when you can’t even get your eyes to open from the hangover,” you pointed out, “are you in love with me that much?”

He stuttered. The first time Kim Sunwoo had ever stuttered in his life, although maybe the hangover was giving him a brain fog. “Shut up.”

Younghoon was cutting you strawberries in heart shaped cutters and frying pancakes on another pan. He watched you out of the corner of his eyes, smiling to himself.

“Hey,” Sunwoo whines when Younghoon makes two portions—one for himself and one for you—and leaves him out. “Where’s mine?”

Younghoon pinched your thigh under the table, the way he did last night… you threw your head back and moaned a little from the pain.

“Whatever!” Sunwoo groaned. “I’ll probably just vomit everything back up, anyway—I’m gonna nap.”

As soon as he turned his back, Younghoon inched closer to you on the seat, lips attached to the same place he had sucked hickies on. “This is so fun,” he giggled. “And just the beginning of the whole of it.”

Who wants part 2 where you fuck sunwoo too!! Tell me if i should write it ahahahhaa

421 notes · View notes

raayllum · 9 months

Text

Punishment VS Acceptance: The Silvergrove and Callum

5x01, 5x04, and 5x08 were probably my favourite episodes for Rayla and Callum’s dynamic this season, for obvious reasons, and rewatching the bulk of the season next day after (and for a nice meta segue) I wanted to tackle the downright beautiful parallels between 3x03 and 5x01 (and a little bit of 4x03).

So let’s get into it.

As we all know, Rayla returns home in 3x03, and gets a... more brutal welcoming than she was expecting, partially due to her own perceived crimes, and due to the Silvergrove’s associative prejudices/inclinations.

It is extremely important to note that (at this time at least) Rayla is banished for something she didn’t even do: “But you didn’t run away from anything. They just don’t know what happened.” And although initially dejected, she remains hopeful and ‘confident’ that Ethari wouldn’t have done the spell.

Ethari, however, temporarily chooses his grief and village over his daughter, and shuts her out... in a way, framing wise, that’s not too dissimilar from Callum’s initial cold reaction in 4x01.

Which makes sense, as both Ethari (and later Amaya) state is quite similar:

Then, of course, while pursuing the exact opposite of abandoning her family, and trying to figure out what happened to them, Rayla is caught emerging from Viren’s old sealed off chambers in 5x01 and accordingly arrested. What I found particularly interesting is that in spite of being fully able to, Rayla doesn’t actually say a single word during her pseudo trial, Callum and Opeli doing all the talking for her (on both ends).

She knew stealing the key wasn’t the right thing to do, but felt unable (or unwilling) to share the burden of the coins with Callum, probably because she hasn’t been able to rely on anyone in a long time (two years alone did not help) and that it’s always been something she’s struggled with. Runaan and Callum’s complicated personal history likely didn’t help either.

And just like the Silvergrove, Opeli is arresting her on the basis of association:

and unlike the Silvergrove, on account of crimes she actually committed.

And I think there’s a lot of reasons Rayla doesn’t speak up in this scene - shame, the way she’s never been particularly good at advocating for herself, the general emotional difficulties present - but I think the main reason is that she left Callum an explanation in Through The Moon about why she left and he was still (understandably) angry with her, but more than that is that the Silvergrove flat out did not care about her intentions, and she knows it.

E: I told Runaan you were too good hearted for the work of an assassin, so I know you did not betray them out of malice.

Why would this time be any different, especially when as stated, she’s done all the things she’s being accused of?

But Callum isn’t the Silvergrove, so of course he’s different.

Where they stripped her of her home and literal identity, labelling her a Ghost, he reaffirms that her name - “She’s not ‘the elf’ - she’s Rayla” and that he knows exactly who she is. Where the Silvergrove robbed her of a chance to explain herself...

Callum says that she doesn’t need to even when it’s being demanded of her. Whereas before her intentions didn’t matter, they’re all that count here, enough that he is willing to disregard literally everything else (including his own complicated feelings about said murder bow).

C: I know this. [To love is simply to know this:] The tides are true as the ocean is deep. O: What does that mean, Prince Callum? C: It means I trust her. Unconditionally. Let her go. Now.

He doesn’t know ‘what happened’ as far as her intentions and motivations, only the worst presentation of her behaviour. But he refuses to punish her for doing something alone, for not asking for help, for keeping a secret. Instead he’s warm and compassionate and vouches for her, and if anything takes a certain amount of self-imposed responsibility on his own shoulders of realizing that if Rayla didn’t feel like she could come to him with something, he needs to be doing something different.

All while also reaffirming his faith in her - that it’s nothing that would hurt him, that she wants to tell him, that she will tell him one day, that she will be ready, and that he hopes she knows she can trust him.

Because he loves her.

#rayllum #tdp meta #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp spoilers #3x03 #s3 #arc 1 #arc 2 #multi #5x01 #s5 spoilers #parallels #analysis series #analysis #yes i teared up writing the ending mIND UR BUSINESS #back on my immediate post-s3 'callum is the first person in her life to love her Unconditionally' bullshit i think

311 notes · View notes

scoonsalicious · 5 days

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 22, Untold - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Pocket committing humourous and harmless crime, me not knowing how police stations work.

Word Count: 972

Previously On...: You and Tony tried to sheer some sheep. Now it looks like the cops are headed your way.

A/N: Listen, I am too proud of the headline that Tony makes up. Too proud. Also, at the very end, they say the things for the first time! XD

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“How many times do I have to tell you,” you told the officer who was questioning you, “we weren’t trying to steal the sheep, we were just trying to shear them.” You and Tony had been brought to the local police station and informed you were both going to be charged with trespassing, attempted theft, and criminal mischief. They’d separated the two of you, and you were doing your damned best to make sure that they at least dropped the attempted theft charge. “I demand to see the criminal statute that makes that illegal,” you said.

The officer rubbed his face with his hand. You’d been at this for awhile now, and it was obvious he regretted getting stuck with you.

The door to the interrogation room swung open, and another cop stuck his head in. “Jones,” he said, addressing the officer, “her lawyer’s here. We gotta cut her loose.” Lawyer? You didn’t have a lawyer. You couldn’t fucking afford a lawyer.

The other cop motioned for you to exit the interrogation room, which you did happily, and quickly, not wanting to spend another minute more in there than you had to. In the lobby, you saw Tony quietly speaking to a gray-haired gentleman.

��Ah, (Y/N),” he said when he saw you approach. “This is my attorney, Mr. Mitchell. He’s going to be representing the both of us over this little misunderstanding.”

You shook hands with the lawyer, but said “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to utilize your services, Mr. Mitchell. I’m pretty sure they have to provide me with an attorney, as I most certainly cannot afford one.”

Tony scoffed at that. “Please. I got you into this, the least I can do is make sure you’ve got legal counsel.”

His words took you aback. You were so unaccustomed to having someone do something kind for you (even if, technically, the entire endeavor had been his idea) without expecting something in return.

“I’m not going to sleep with you in exchange for a lawyer, Tony,” you said.

Tony looked offended. “No offense, but you’re way too young for me. Besides, I don’t need to get girls a lawyer to get them to sleep with me, thank you very much.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mr. Mitchell said with an awkward cough, “I need to speak to the desk sergeant about finalizing your bail. The older man walked off, leaving you and Tony alone.

“Sorry about that,” you murmured. “I guess I’m just not used to people doing nice things for me without wanting something in exchange.”

Tony studied you. “You strike me as a girl who’s had to grow up pretty quickly,” he said. His voice wasn’t pitying, but it was sad. You just shrugged.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “the press will have a field day with this. I can see the headline now: ‘From Billionaire to Baaaaad Boy: Playful Playboy Arrested in Woolly Misadventure’.”

You snorted at that. “I can make sure they never hear about it,” you said.

Tony cocked his head at you. “Oh, you can, can you?” he asked.

You glanced over to where the precinct’s receptionist sat at her computer. “Can you cause a distraction? Get her away from that terminal for about five minutes?”

Tony brought a hand to his chin. “Like taking candy from a baby,” he said. He sauntered up to the receptionist and slammed his hand down on the counter, causing her to jump.

“Excuse me!” he shouted at her. “I demand to speak to your superior officer! I have never been treated so disrespectfully in my life!”

The receptionist blanched. “I’m sorry sir, but if you have a complaint, you can fill out–”

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” Tony shouted. “I demand you take me to your superior officer this instant, or I will have your job!”

The poor woman was frazzled as she led Tony back into the bowels of the precinct. As soon as they were out of sight, you ran around the counter to the terminal. It was only a matter of moments before you were able to locate the files for you and Tony, and with a few quick keystrokes, you had deleted them as though they never existed.

You quickly checked the pile of paper files waiting to be sorted, locating the case files for both you and Tony. Checking to make sure the receptionist and Tony weren’t yet on their way back, you stuffed them down into the very bottom of the public trash can before running back to stand exactly where Tony had left you.

In a few more moments, Tony and Mr. Mitchell came out from the back of the station together.

“Well, that was quite fortuitous,” Mr. Mitchell said. “It appears that there was some sort of computer error and your charges were erased from the system.” You avoided Tony’s glance at you as Mr. Mitchell continued. “The desk sergeant has agreed to contact me once they’ve re-entered the information from the paper files. For now, you’re both free to go. Tony,” he shook Stark’s hand, “always a pleasure. And Ms. (Y/L/N),” you shook his offered hand. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“You, too, Mr. Mitchell,” you said. “And thank you so much.”

You and Tony followed the lawyer out, and as Tony started the Audi to begin your drive back to Boston, he turned to look at you.

“So, Kiddo,” he said, having learned you were just nineteen from your police intake, “how would you like a job?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “Are you serious?” you asked. There was no way he was serious. An offer like this could change the trajectory of your entire life.

“Like a heart attack,” he said.

You grinned at him. “When do I start, Boss?”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

112 notes · View notes

lemonadeinfuser · 3 days

Text

Holiday House

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

In short: Hotch needs help, and you need a job. Part 1 of ?? we shall see how far this goes :) Warnings for mentions of alcohol (very infrequent) possible mentions of smut/cut to black scenes in the future! ;) __ Is in place of Y/N!!

“And the town said, ‘How did a middle class divorcee do it?’”

Aaron Hotchner was never one to admit to needing help, let alone one to ask for it. But as he sat in the dim light of the kitchen, a case file in one hand, a glass of whiskey in the other, a million thoughts ran through his head. His thumb rubs his temple gingerly, averting his gaze from the graphic crime scene polaroids, over to his son’s bedroom. Just a few hours earlier, he had called off abruptly to pick up Jack prematurely from school, after he had climbed to the very top of the jungle gym in an attempt to do something Garcia called “parkour”.

He survived with only a few scrapes and bruises, but it was clearly a drastic cry for attention.The door was open ajar, illuminated only by the dinosaur night light, casting a soft blue glow over the sleeping boy. When Haley had died, he had quickly realized that being a full-time father would not prove easy with his job. As time went on, it only got more difficult for him to divide his attention- and Jack’s recent episode at school was a cruel wake up call. One thing was evident- he needed someone to attend fully to him, and Hotch needed the ability to commit fully to his team, and to the BAU.

So, first thing in the morning, Penelope was faced with a curt knock on her office door. Spinning around in her chair, she rises and opens the door, Starbucks in hand. “Fancy seeing you here, hands- Oh, hello, sir, m-my apologies. I thought you were Derek.” She cleared her throat, but arched an eyebrow as she detected a faint twinkle in Hotch’s eyes. “Garcia.” “What do you need sir? Stats? Access to a secure database?” She spins around quickly, already typing the nearest case details into her supercomputer. “Well, actually, it’s more of a personal question. Do you happen to know any, uh, childcare workers?” “Like a nanny, sir?” He cringed at the cutesy word, but nodded nonetheless.

“Yes, I suppose.” Garcia pushed her glasses up her nose slightly, observing the man in front of her. Although she wasn’t technically a profiler, she knew Hotch well enough to find things out of place, as they were now. “Actually, yes, sir, I know just the person.” A slight plot began to form in her head, as she sent a number through her printer and into Hotch’s hands. “That’s my friend, __. She’s perfect, lots of experience, Jack would love her. Actually, sir, you would too..” Hotch fumbles for a second, before raising an eyebrow in her direction. “That’s quite enough, Penelope. This is strictly for Jack’s benefit. I appreciate this, however.” He nods curtly, backing out and bumping straight into a coffee-bearing Morgan. “Trying to steal my girlfriend, boss-man? Not cool.” Derek chuckles, pushing past him politely and planting a kiss on Penelope’s cheek. “Damn, I beat you to it!” He gestures to the coffee already in her hand. “I can always use more,” Penelope giggles.

Hotch shuts the door quickly, glancing down at the number in his hands. He walks quickly back to his office, passing right by Spencer and Rossi arguing about something or another. “With all due respect, sir, Logan Paul has absolutely nothing against Mike Tyson-” “He’s a billion years old!” Shaking his head slightly at his team’s banter, Aaron sinks into his chair, punching the number into the landline on his desk. Everyone else may use cellphones now, but Aaron still preferred the old fashioned way, when it came to business.

You had just finished an extremely degrading night shift at the diner, picking up your phone with a raised brow as you exited the back room. “Hello?” “Hello, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner. Is this __?” Your heart rate picked up- maybe from the fact that an FBI agent was calling you, maybe because his voice was low and steady and weirdly attractive. “O-oh, um, hello sir do you- need something?” Hotch takes notice of the light and airy pitched voice on the other side of the line, and something about it makes his heart skip a beat. He ignores it, proceeding, “I was wondering if you were prepared to interview for an in-home, uh, nanny job? For lack of a better word. Penelope Garcia gave me your number, and I trust her judgment for better or worse.” A smile spread across your face. “Absolutely, sir. When would be a good time to meet, Mr Hotchner?”

It’s strange. Aaron gets called sir about a hundred times a day, but something about your innocent voice sends a shiver down his spine that he can’t explain, but does his best to ignore. “Why don’t you stop by my house at around 6 tonight? We can talk, you can meet Jack, and we can go from there.” “That works for me, sir.” You smoothen out your skirt, a sudden blush chasing your cheeks as you think about meeting this mystery man, one you’d only heard anecdotes about from your best friend and her boyfriend. “Perfect. I’ll have Garcia send over my address.” The line clicks before you get the chance to respond, leaving you slightly flustered, with your hands wrapped around your cellphone a little more tightly than you thought, almost as if you were holding onto the idea of him. The poor man, left alone with his son, with a job like that.. You shake your head, quickly grabbing your purse, clattering your nametag down on the counter with a defiant “I quit.” to your manager as you happily left that damn place for the last time.

Back at the office, Aaron watches his team out in the bullpen, Morgan and Garcia enveloped in something on his desk while Spencer spins a rubix cube towards Emily, with a “good luck” sort of look. He’s not sure what the emotion he’s feeling is, but whatever it is, he brushes it off and grabs the case file dropped off earlier, emerging into the open office, with the same professional air as always- if a little less uptight than usual.

“Who knows, if she never showed up, what could have been?”

A/N: AHHH this was so so much fun to write!! I hope my writing style and the way I write Hotch is okay, I’m still new to the fandom and show but I did my very best! Suggestions are always welcome! Please like, comment, reblog and send me requests!

-e.a <33

70 notes · View notes

madamdionysia · 9 months

Note

ateez MTL likely to masturbate to their s/o's cologne/perfume? (i'm 19)

A/N: i can nOT help myself here. Also not in the requested format because I felt a huge need to elaborate, so it's more a reaction of them getting turned on.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: dacryphilia, masturbation, goofy romantic down bad teezers, they miss you :(, gn!reader, yeosang steals your underwear for a good cause, oral, pillow humping, slight possession/jealousy,

Hongjoong: It wouldn’t matter what scent so much to him as long as the fragrance was something uniquely yours. He wouldn’t want to smell it on anyone else except yourself and him. He definitely holds your scent as something very precious and uniquely you, like he would be heartbroken without it but if its on anyone else?? Hes going to commit crimes. If he’s ever getting off to it, he’s probably crying and missing you really bad. Probably just wants to be held, to have his head in your lap and fingers in his hair. It just feels like home to him.

Seonghwa: The two of you would either use the same scent, one that matches the two of you as a pair, or he carries a sample/travel spray to have a reminder of you on tour. Gets teased for being down bad when the whole group wishes they had that idea first. Your scent would be a comfort to him, one when he is desperate for you to hold. Would shiver and moan, imagining your lips around his cock instead of his fingers. Also the type to know which scents would suit your tastes best. Lowkey a candle guy too, that soft romantic vibe is a favorite of his. Not necessarily even for fucking, just seems like the kind of guy to like the vibes.

Yunho: It wasn’t even a spray, it was hardly a soap. For once, you are away instead of him and there’s this ache in his heart. And in his pants. So he ruts against your pillow, grinding his weepy cock against the fabric and eventually resorts to his hand to get himself off. His hair falling into his face as he spurts onto his chest. Sweet baby just misses you so much. Lets you pick a scent out for him :( Don’t get him started on your lotion.

Yeosang: Probably steals your underwear too. Would get you a fragrance sampler and let you punish him if he guessed wrong. Super particular, also would find you fragrances and such on tour. You might have a collection. Yeosang swears he doesn’t have a problem. Really really likes when you only wear a fragrance. Another one down bad on tour like help him please. Happily gets off to any of your smells, anytime, anywhere. Sounds and feels perverted, but Yeosang is just so sweet about it that you can’t find room to argue. Especially if he gives you oral. He’s just so desperate for you, like legitimately drunk on your scent.

San: So I’m in love with back muscles?? My brain consumed by post shower San, towel around waist, and wet hair plastered to his face. That towel tented as he raised yours to his nose. He buried his face in it, his body still dripping from his shower. High pitched moan, you know the one. Definitely not the type to sob when he misses you on tour, but definitely the type to jack off three times a day. Just wants to spoon you when he returns.

Mingi: Wouldn’t even realize how much he missed your scent when he was away. Discovers this one day when a publicist or reporter or interviewer or some other person he passively encounters that smells like you but is definitely not you and it throws him off. Not overly obsessed with it but no one else is allowed to smell like you. Not in the possessive way like hongjoong, more in a “help this is not my babe” kind of way. Lost puppy honestly. Probably buys you like eighty new ones each tour.

Wooyoung: Literally the weakest of the bunch, someone help him. Really really just wants to hold you close, skin on skin, etc. Either a big goofy romantic soft boy about it or grinding you into the mattress. Moans at the way your lips practically burn his skin. Wants to feel your warmth, denies he is missing you on tour. Smells your scent once and cries that night. Or facetimes you for some phone sex. Either or.

Jongho: He would catch a whiff of it and not think much of it at first sniff. Then he catches it on you again. And again. Soon the scent becomes associated with you and his mind grows dizzy if he smells it. Might also like smelling his cologne on you too. It’s his comfort, it’s what he smells when his lips are connected to your neck and he trembles under your touch. Less tied to his personal identity, it’s more like a blanket of warmth when he needs it most. Doesn’t seem the type to get off while on tour, but if he’s really desperate. Loves it most when he finally returns home and it’s stronger than ever.

310 notes · View notes

archiveikemen · 6 months

Text

『 Zero Distance 』 Story Event: Chapter 1

Liam Evans

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

My lover had the curse of a cat, which meant that he had to periodically satisfy his curiosity.

That’s why Liam would go thrill seeking with Alfons night after night.

I wanted to be with Liam for tonight, so I asked to tag along with them—

Kate: Why am I being hung mid-air…?

Liam: You’re not having fun? Al, pull Kate back up. Quick, quick.

Alfons: My, you have such little perseverance. You’re always so quick to complain.

Alfons, who was holding onto both of my ankles, slowly lifted me.

Kate: Oof… I thought I was going to die.

Alfons: Wasn’t that a fresh new experience? So, did you manage to confirm whether there are any security guards inside?

Kate: I- I was too scared to do that!

Tonight, Alfons and Liam were trying to steal an artwork from a museum for fun.

The truth was that the artwork was stolen by the museum, and they planned to steal it to return it to its original owner.

Kate: Can’t we just have a proper talk with the museum's director instead of going to such lengths?

Alfons: Aren't we committing this crime to help others, precisely because lawful means won't be effective?

Alfons: Your way of thinking is as unnecessarily serious as ever.

(... I get the feeling they just want to sneak into a museum in the middle of the night because it's thrilling to them.)

And to prove my point, what they were about to do tonight wasn't one of Crown’s missions, it was entirely their own idea.

Liam: Kate! Al!

Liam: Looks like the security guard went into the room in the back. Now’s the best time to sneak in.

Liam: Kate, are you coming too? I’ll make sure to hold your hand the entire time.

Liam extended his hand to me with a sweet smile, the gesture making my heart flutter.

I held his hand, happy to see Liam smiling while living in the moment without fearing for his tomorrows.

(... I’m weak for this smile.)

Kate: Got it, let’s go.

— That decision was a huge mistake.

…

Security Guard: S-Stop right there, the three of you…!

Alfons: Ahaha, as expected of an incredibly well-known art museum in England. What excellent security.

Kate: This is not the time to be saying such things!

We were running around the place to get away from the security guard who heard the commotion and came out to investigate.

(Ah…)

I accidentally stumbled in a corner, and Liam swiftly caught me in his arms.

Liam: Kate…

Click. The security guard fastened something on mine and Liam’s hands the moment we stopped running.

(This is… no way…)

(Handcuffs!?)

Security Guard: *pant* *pant*... I finally caught you. You guys are fast.

Security Guard 2: Oi, I’ll go after that guy with a shady looking smile. You watch these two.

(... If Liam were the only one here, he’d be able to disappear and escape.)

But I knew that Liam would never choose to leave me behind.

(... What should we do? If we get handed over to the police…)

Liam: We got caught, huh. But being locked up in jail with you might not be such a bad thing.

Liam: Ah, but if the other prisoners fall in love with you… I might kill them all.

Kate: Liam, I don’t think this is the right situation to be saying—

Liam: Fufu, I’m just kidding. I won’t let you get arrested by the police so easily.

Liam: Because I’m the only one who’s allowed to touch and monopolise you.

Liam grinned like a Cheshire cat and said loudly,

Liam: Al, you’re watching us from somewhere, aren't you? Sorry, but we need your help here.

Alfons’ Voice: And what will I get in return for helping you?

Liam: How about drinking all you want tonight and I’ll pay for your bill?

Alfons’ Voice: One more time?

Liam: Geez. You can eat all you want too.

Alfons’ Voice: Deal.

Security Guard 1: Uwah! Where did you…

Alfons: Hm? You just caught a pair of dogs, I’m one too.

Security Guard 1: W-Why are there three dogs here?

Alfons removed his black leather gloves and touched the nape of the guard’s neck to create an illusion using his curse’s ability, the guard widened his eyes in shock.

Liam: Thanks, Al. Come on, let’s escape before the illusion wears off.

Liam: Kate, I’ll carry you. Hang on tight.

…

After sneakily stealing the artwork and leaving the museum, the two of them laughed loudly while walking down the street.

Liam • Alfons: Ahh, that was fun.

Kate: I FEEL LIKE MY LIFESPAN GOT SHORTENED…!

Alfons: Oh, you don't seem to have enjoyed yourself. That’s too bad.

Liam: I’ll definitely take your enjoyment into consideration next time, please don't abandon me…

Kate: I can never abandon you, Liam. Just be sure to keep the danger factor in moderation.

Liam: Fufu, okay. I’ll be careful.

Alfons: By the way, how long do you two intend to keep those handcuffs on?

Alfons: I won’t judge if you're into that sort of play, though.

Kate: Oh, right. We have to take this off.

Liam: Don’t worry, Kate. Al is a pro at unlocking things. So—

Alfons: Let’s see…

Alfons reached his hand around my shoulder and touched the handcuffs.

Alfons: Goodness! These handcuffs have some numbers on them. Look.

Upon hearing those words, I looked down at the handcuffs to see a small device resembling a clock attached.

Kate: … 24 hours left…?

Alfons: I’ve heard of this rare type of handcuffs with a time lock. It will only unlock after 24 hours.

Liam: … :0

Kate: I-In other words—

Liam: We can’t remove it until 24 hours is up…?

Alfons: Ahaha!

…

The next morning, Liam and I woke up to the handcuffs still linking our arms together.

— 12 hours left.

Liam: Not like it’ll magically come off when we wake up.

Liam: But being stuck with you until the time is up makes me happy.

Liam smiled sweetly while staring at the handcuffs.

(He’s so cute…)

Liam twirled my hair around his finger as we laid in bed.

Liam: Do you hate being in this situation? Is it bothering you? Do you want to take this off?

Kate: I don’t hate it.

Kate: I know this will be a little bit inconvenient… but I’m also kind of excited.

Liam: Excited?

Kate: Because it’s rare to be able to be this close to you at all times.

Kate: And I’m relieved that it's you I’m stuck to… mm… mmph…

Liam: You’re so adorable, Kate. And I’m so, so happy…

While kissing me repeatedly, Liam gently held me down on the bed.

Liam: … I wonder how far we can go with our hands cuffed together?

Kate: How far…

Liam: Kissing you isn’t a problem. But can I take your clothes off with one hand?

Kate: Liam, don’t take my clothes off… ahh

Liam: I can’t fondle them using both of my hands, so I’ll lick them instead. You like that, don't you?

Liam: Are you feeling more sensitive than usual? … mm… so cute…

Kate: … ahh, it’s still morning…

Liam: I love doing it in the morning too. Because I can see everything about you clearly.

Kate: … ahhh

…

We explained our situation to William and Harrison while having a late breakfast.

William: — So this is what happens when you sneak into an art museum to satisfy your curiosity.

Harrison: That’s what you get for being curious. But this is a rare type of lock that that guy (Alfons) can’t unlock.

Alfons: My, my, it appears that you're enjoying this perverted play.

Kate: Whoa! Please don’t appear out of nowhere so suddenly. Also, what do you mean by “enjoying”...

Alfons: You shouldn't tell lies. I can see the numerous hickeys on your neck…

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: Al is lying. Geez, you're so gullible.

Liam: I mean, I did kiss Kate’s body a lot this morning, so it’s not surprising if she has hickeys on her.

I was flustered by the bombshell comment Liam so nonchalantly made, and William smiled quietly.

William: Victor said that Kate and Liam can be on break until the handcuffs come off.

William: Because they most likely won’t be able to go on missions with their hands cuffed together like this.

Liam: Really? Victor’s so understanding, as always.

Harrison: But don't you have rehearsals today? Weren't you making a huge fuss over next weekend’s premiere?

Liam: Yup, that’s right. Kate, can you accompany me to my rehearsal?

Kate: Of course. Please do take me with you.

Liam: Mm, thanks.

I would usually just see Liam off to his rehearsals without tagging along, in order to avoid getting in his way.

However, it was inevitable for me to be by Liam’s side all day today.

(Even so, I don’t think our situation is too bad.)

Alfons: Liam, Liam. … What will you do?

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil story event #liam evans

62 notes · View notes

winterlynightlystories · 1 year

Text

Viper’s tongue

Tw; mention of past accidental murder, fighting, injury, blood, attempt murder.

Please do not copy or steal my work

Mikey/Male!reader

Summary; Lied to, you find yourself in the middle of the fight between Valhalla and Toman. But you won't let Kazutora go unpunished. Unknown to you, altering the time line.

~~~~~~

Rage burned in your veins as you searched trough the mass for Kazutora. You could not believe how stupid you have been! How could you believe that viper and his sweet words?

How could you believe that your friend would come back untouched after the crime he committed? You should have dropped and forgotten Kazutora the second he killed Shin. Better, you should have beaten his sorry ass when he came with his proposition of joining your gang to his.

How could you be so blind?

Believing him when he said he wanted to take back the Black Dragon and restore them in memory for Shin. It was so sweet, so touching and you wanted that. You missed Shin and his smile, his big heart and his advice.

But it was only lies.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Hanma fighting Draken. The two beasts seemed tireless as they kept hitting each other over and over in an endless dance. But no sign of Mikey or Kazutora by their side. Cursing, you avoided two Toman members, refusing to hit them.

It might be too late to take your gang out of this mess, but you refused to fight Toman. They weren't your enemy or the one you should be facing right now.

- “Mikey!”

Draken’s scream froze everyone in place and your blood turned to ice in your veins, fear gripping your heart. Slowly, you turned around to face the pile of cars. There, almost on top, you saw Kazutora with a metal pipe in hand and two other figures around one, blond, lying down.

That was Mikey.

Shin’s little brother.

You two were more or less the same age and you remembered playing around with Manjirowhen you came to their dojo. You two used to be inseparable and so close.

You haven't seen him since... since Shin’s death.

And you missed Mikey.

Anger ignited your blood once more when you saw Kazutora’s accomplices grab onto Mikey and Kazutora ready to beat the young President one more time with his weapon. You bolted in their direction, followed by Draken. Unlike you, Draken was stopped by Hanma. Maybe the idiot thought you were joining the party and not planning to crash it.

As fast as you could you climbed the cars. Your rage blinded you more and more as you watched, powerless, your former friend beating Mikey on the head. You felt each hit as your own.

- “Kazutora! Stop it!” you screamed, horrified when you saw blood splashing in the air.

He ignored you, too caught in his monologue. You finally reached their level and the fucker dared smile at you. Crazy. Kazutora was simply crazy, you decided.

- “Y/n! You are joining us!” rejoiced Kazutora, but quickly lost his joyful demeanour when he saw your angry face. “What is it?”

- “You fucking lying piece of shit!” you screamed, running toward him.

Before anyone could react, you tackled Kazutora. Arms wrapped tightly around him, and with all your strength, you jumped into the void. Kazutora screamed in fear, and somewhere someone cried your name. Then, you hit the top of a car. The shock and pain had you let go of your enemy and you both rolled. You were the only one able to get a grip before falling, unlike Kazutora.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the rage, but you got back on your feet in an instant before jumping down. Your eyes never left the falling teen until he reached the ground on broken glass. You didn't give Kazutora the time to get up; you pinned him down before hitting him in the face.

The silence around you two was deafening. Only the sound of your panting and fists colliding with Kaz’s face could be heard.

- “Kazutora!” shouted Hanma, running toward you. “Son of a bitch, let go of him!”

You ignored Hanma and hit Kazutora one more time.

- “Did you really think that I would be fine with all of this? You lied to me! How dare you use Shin’? How dare you!” you screamed and slapped him across the face.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Hanma almost on you. But Draken got between you, blocking the kick Hanma's kick.

- “Y/n! What is going on?” asked Draken, giving you the side eye. “Aren't you with them?”

- “No! I mean, yes but no. Kazutora told me we were taking back Black Dragon, but he lied. He used Shin’ to get me to agree.” you replied, panting. “I'm so sorry Draken.”

- “I see.” he sighed before adding; “Thought so. I couldn't see you hurting Mikey on your own will”

- “Eh? What is that supposed to mean?” you asked before gasping in pain.

Kazutora punched you back, getting you off him. Cursing, you got back on your feet. Back to back with Draken, you dared look up. Mikey stared at you, face blank. A shiver ran down your spine when you realized he was now standing alone, blood definitely pouring down his face. Turning your attention to Kazutora, you gave him a cold stare.

- “Y/n... You are betraying me for Mikey?” asked Kazutora, smiling madly.

- “Fucking yes! And you are the one who betrayed me first! I can't believe I trusted you... Believed in you! You are nothing but a filthy murderer!” you shouted at him, shaking.

- “Oi! Y/n, don't you think you are going a bit too far?” asked Draken, blocking another hit from Hanma

- “No!” you grunted, barely blocking Kazutora's punch. “He killed Shin’ and now he's after Mikey. What kind of psychopath do that? And you think he will stop there? What make you believe he won't go after Emma-chan?”

You yelped, feeling Draken grab you by the wrist. With all his strength, the Vice President spun you around. You barely had the time to understand what was going on when you saw Hanma attacking. Your foot hit him on the jaw and send him to the ground.

- “Oi! Draken! A warning beforehand would be nice!” you scolded him

- “Kazutora would never hurt Emma.” was his only answer.

- “Want to bet?” you replied, watching with horror as Kazutora took a knife out of his pocket. “Because that moron got a knife!”

Holding back a scream, you barely avoided Kazutora as he jumped on you. Your ex-friend was determined to stab you. Not giving you a second to rest, Kazutora kept attacking, his eyes shining with madness.

- “You are not laughing anymore, right Y/n? I’m going to guts you in front of everyone!” he shouted, smiling like a lunatic.

- “You are crazy!” you shouted back, fear growing up.

Because how the hell was he getting faster? You could feel the pain in your back and legs becoming harder to ignore. Your breath also getting harder to catch, making you slower to react. But it was impossible to look away, your eyes stuck on the blade.

- “Y/n! Watch out!” warned Draken

Was it how you would die, you wondered as Kazutora was finally catching up on you. You could not move anymore, too tired.

Then something hit you, sending you to the ground. A scream of pain left your lips as you heard Draken scream again.

- “MIKEY!”

Looking back, you gasped and felt tears threatening to spill. There stood Mikey, Kazutora's knife deep in his shoulder. Blood poured generously from the wound. Yet, Mikey didn't even seem bothered. His face, dark and grim, was turned toward Kazutora. Fear could be read on the culprit’s face. Neither of them moved as if time was frozen.

Out of nowhere, as quick as lightning, Mikey kicked Kazutora in the head, sending his aggressor face first on the ground.

- “Oh Gods. Oh, Gods! Mikey!” you whined. Getting up, you ran to Mikey and stopped him before he could take out the knife. “Don't! Please don't take it out.”

- “Y/n, did he hurt you?” asked Mikey, unbothered by his wound. His expression had changed, you realized. It was now softer, but worried.

- “No, no he didn't,” you answered, feeling tears run down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry Mikey.”

- “Mikey! Are you alright?” inquired Draken, running to join you two. Behind him, Hanma was also unconscious on the ground. “Son of a bitch! He got you.” cursed Draken, taking your place by Mikey's side.

Mikey grabbed your wrist, not letting you go anywhere. The blond offered you a big smile.

- “I'm happy you didn't get hurt! You scared me when you jumped with Kazutora. Please, Y/n, never do something like that again,” he said

- “I can't promise you anything, Mikey,” you replied, smiling as well.

All around you, the battle was finally over. Roman had won and you could not be happier. After everything Valhalla did, this felt like the right thing. Every member of Toman cheered, congratulating each other and taking care of the wounded. Somewhere, you heard someone screaming Mikey's name. It was Baji, followed by Chifuyu and a blond you didn't know who was crying.

You felt Mikey take your hand in his, smiling.

- “You know, there is enough place for you in Toman. If you want of course! “ said Mikey, blushiing.

- “It'll be an honour for us to join you, Mikey.” you smiled, blushing as well.

#male reader #x male reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #mikey x male reader #sano manjiro x male reader

179 notes · View notes

fairygeek777 · 5 months

Text

I initially lost a version of this blog to my own forgetfulness but I still really want to talk about this. And by this I mean Mamoru's identity struggle. And even more specifically,

Why remembering the Silver Millenium and The Golden Kingdom is so damn important to Mamoru Chiba.

And when I say important, I do not mean plot wise. I mean it is- but I'm referring to Mamoru's emotional need to know who he is.

Aight so first off, a disclaimer. I am not saying The awakening of Usagi as Princess Serenity is any less important... story wise. But it is less important as far as whether Usagi emotionally needed to remember. Don't get me wrong I will die on the hill that Serenity and Endymion/Usagi Tsukino and Mamoru Chiba are equals in every way in the story of Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon. But like the point of this blog is to show what remembering their past life meant for Usagi vs what it meant to Mamoru. But also total transparency here, Mamoru is my favorite character. So I'm about to write a potentially long-ass analysis on him. You were warned. Enjoy!

Ohhhh that's how you add a cut

So all that said;

Usagi starts off having had a very very normal, mundane life. She's got her parents, she's the older sister of a little brother always ready to pick on her for some good old sibling rivalry. She's got her friends Naru, those two girls that I was gonna flex knowing the names of but realized I don't actually remember. She's got Motoki Furuhata, a cute older guy that is eye candy as she plays games at her favorite arcade. She's going to school and fairing all right all things considered lol.

In Act 1, up until she meets the mysterious Luna a talking cat, Usagi has no reason to question her life. Like at all. But then not only does she encounter this cat, but she bumps into this guy for the first time and it's a mix of "Oh my God he's already the biggest jerk and why is he wearing a Tuxedo in the middle of the street at 2 in the afternoon? What a fricken weirdo??" And "why is my heart pounding out of my chest just from meeting him???" Which is only where she starts to question things. Oh and then obviously she receives the mission from Luna to become Sailor Moon.

Contrary to, Mamoru Chiba. This poor kid (and yes he is still a kid) has had anything but a normal life. His earliest memory is waking up in a hospital bed, on his 6th birthday, being told he was in a car accident and that his parents didn't survive. He had no memory of anything in his life prior, (I wonder if he even recognizes his parents in any photos he had) He literally had to be told what his name was. He ended up God knows where for almost 10 years (up to reader speculation because Naoko doesn't tell us and ooh people write fanfiction on this!) Be starts living alone in an apartment and as far as we've seen he has no friends and doesn't seek any out. But the good thing is he's a really really gifted kid, he's crazy intelligent and he's the perfect scholar. So he's able to get into one of the most elite schools in the country so he can have trajectory in his life.

But the thing is, Mamoru doesn't even know if he really is "Mamoru Chiba" he doesn't have any connection to that name. He can't even call it his identity. And he's had the same dream every night for all those years. The faceless figure of a beautiful woman who he can feel is important and she only leaves him with a single cryptic phrase every. Single. Night.

"Please, find the Legendary Silver Crystal"

and for a lot of those years all it does is haunt him and maybe comfort him at the same time. Until he reaches the age of 16. And Mamoru, for reasons he doesn't quite know himself, begins searching each place he can every night for this Silver Crystal, wearing attire that makes him look like a Gentleman Theif. Desperate to find what he has deemed the only way he will know who he really is, he commits crimes breaking into shops. Obviously he never steals anything because he is only after one thing and he'll know it when he sees it. When he's not moonlighting as a potential Crystal napper his nose is stuck inside books. Stacks of books about minerals. Researching anything that could lead him to that fricken Crystal.

And then one afternoon he goes to investigate a certain Jewelry store wearing his Tuxedo and a super cool pair of sunglasses. Only to be hit in the face with a wadded up sheet of paper. And encounters a loud, crybaby who apparently has impressively bad test scores. When he meets her his heart starts to race and then the racing calms while she turns away. He's got no clue what just happened but hey this store might have the crystal he's looking for!

So that same night he sneaks inside that shop, and unbeknownst to him there's a teenage girl fighting a monster woman and struggling... a lot. He sticks around to see the show and (I will actually be including 90s Mamo in this blog because he's part of the reason I returned to writing it in the first place) in the 90s anime he actively intervenes and throws his signature rose dart to assist her. After some time and prompting from some voice he doesn't know the origin of, this teenage girl who has just introduced herself as Sailor Moon impresses Mamoru. And she continues to impress him.

So let's talk about 90s real quick in one go.

SOS 90s Mamoru is not in control of when he transforms into Tuxedo Mask. Its like he becomes someone else. We do learn that Tuxedo Mask's transformation is triggered by the one of Sailor Moon. However, he's still had that dream every night. And eventually Mamoru becomes conscious of his alter ego and becomes more active in searching for the Silver Crystal. Even telling Sailor Moon that if it comes to it he will steal the Rainbow Crystals from her in order to obtain the Silver Crystal. He's also already falling for Sailor Moon at this point, and prior we were told that his blood tells him to protect her. He's drawn to her and he's certain its because they knew each other in a previous life. I have no clue how he could come to that conclusion with so little evidence but hey at least he's more aware than others.

So at this point its pretty dang obvious that Mamoru is desperate for any clue to his identity. When the time comes, and he (90s) does remember his past life as Mamoru, its like a weight is lifted off of him. He accepts it so readily.

Usagi... doesn't. Returning to her side. In 90s Usagi barely wants to be a Senshi and she isn't completely sold on Mamoru yet either. It takes the returning of her memories to accept him as Tuxedo Mask and Endymion. This is all so hard for her to accept, that she's a princess, that the love of her life was just taken from her in the same moment that she remembered him, that it is her duty to defeat the Dark Kingdom, its all too much that she definitely doesn't want to be part of. Because for her its like awakening as the Princess meant she was losing herself. Like this past life identity was overtaking her present one. She never asked to be Sailor Moon and she certainly didn't sign up for being a Princess destined to defeat some "dark kingdom". She's having more trouble accepting the "I'm a princess and its my duty as a senshi to fight evil" part than the "the love of my life was just taken away from me" part. Because really, what was missing in her life up until now? Why would she want to be anything more than the girl she is, living the life she's been living?

So back to Mamoru, it is no coincidence that when he is taken by the Dark Kingdom he goes by Dark Prince Endymion. Because the name Mamoru meant nothing to him before and it certainly doesn't mean anything now. He is Prince Endymion. This is who he always was. It isn't until he's reminded of his time with Usagi/Sailor Moon in her plea for him to return to her that he can accept both identities.

But. Then. He dies. And completely out of his control, he's reborn in the life he had before he regained his memories. He never became Tuxedo Mask, he hadn't met Sailor Moon but yet he still already encountered Usagi a while ago??? (I'm gonna be honest I have no idea how that plot makes sense for anyone but Usagi lol) But anyway, the wish Usagi made kiiiiiida took away Mamoru's identity. Was he even having dreams? Did he even have his memories of his parents? Where did his struggle with his identity go? When you think about how desperately important remembering that he was Endymion was to Mamoru, its so hard to imagine that he would have wanted to forget everything again. I mean his soul even refused to be apart from her. Literally. The embodiment of his desire to protect her, showed up in place of Tuxedo Mask. I think if he were given the chance to properly reunite with her as things were instead of letting Usagi make a wish to live normally but be separated a third time, He would have gladly taken it. Also shout out to @tiny012 for bringing this up in one of their blogs which is what reminded me I wanted to return to the topic 👍

Alright so let's circle back to how the manga handles this:

Manga Mamoru is quicker to piece things together, and because of this, the progression leading to his and Usagi's memories returning is much faster pace. First off. Man figures out Usagi Tsukino is Sailor Moon in Act 3. Because she transforms right in front of him lol. Second, man is hopelessly in love with Usagi by Act 4. Thirdly, he himself puts the events in motion to reveal his secret identity, his goals, and his apartment (haha I'm so funny) to Usagi in act 7. By the end of act 7 the two are very much in love on a mutual level. They do not recall the Silver Millenium yet. When they do recall their memories, it isn't a shock to either of them. Let me repeat that. Its not shocking. Its not like 90s Usagi who only barely came to terms that this "jerk" was also her beloved Tuxedo Mask who just took a knife to the back for her, and was ALSO a man she considered her lover in a past life. No no no.

When M and U regain their memories in the manga, everything becomes clear to them. Because it explains why they were already so in love. Because it means they found each other again just like they wished and promised they would. I mean the words they say to each other in Act 9 say it all.

"Endymion..? Oh... that's... my name! Of course, I was reborn into this life as Mamoru Chiba. I came back all so I could be with you again. I found you... Serenity, my love"

"I remember you, Endymion my one true love.... We finally found each other again. Is this fate? I never told you anything about myself! I never told you my true feelings! Tuxedo Mask!"

(Paraphrased from both manga and Crystal dub)

Let me draw attention to the difference in these lines.

Usagi's realization is one in which her sole focus is Mamoru. The beautiful man she loves that she'd give anything to be with. She remembers that he's also Endymion. But to her current self, he's first and foremost Tuxedo Mask. Tuxedo Mask/Mamo-chan is who she fell in love with in this life as Usagi. And she's desperate for him to awaken so she can share this life with him.

Mamoru has just found the final piece to the puzzle he couldn't complete since he was a child. "Oh, That's my name!" It is the moment of self discovery that's he's been searching for all this time. And he found it in the girl he fell for not just in this lifetime but also his last and his last words are of relief that he finally found his princess again.

During the time that the two are separated, Usagi goes through physical changes. And its stated that because of her awakening she's becoming more like the princess. But she doesn't want that. She feels like the more she remembers about being the princess the less she becomes herself. All Usagi ever wanted was to be happy with Mamoru. She only ever wanted to be a normal girl but ever since becoming Sailor Moon she's been questioning which is her true self. As far as she's concerned, she is just Usagi and he's just Mamoru and she wants to be with him.

When they are reunited, things change specifically for Mamoru. He develops powers he did not have before, he regained his incredible powers to connect deeply with the Earth his beloved planet. He becomes much less introverted, even spends time with his underclassmen at school and confidently encourages aspiring students to attend.

So before this gets any longer than it is already my point to this blog is this:

Usagi doesn't fully accept being Princess Serenity outside of her love for Endymion because she already had a separate identity before awakening. She didn't need nor want a different life. When she remembered the time of the Silver Millenium, it changed everything Usagi thought she knew about herself.

Mamoru feels relief and gratitude for remembering the time of the Silver Millenium because he had nothing for so so long. The search for who he was, the mysterious girl who had appeared in his dreams for 10 years, he had all the answers now. And what's more, those answers lead him to the love of his life.

(I'd go into the Golden Kingdom side but its 2am and I gotta force myself out of bed really early tomorrow. Plus this is already a chore to scroll through LOL)

So ye if you read this far, you either really love Mamoru (and Usagi because this is technically an analysis on both of them lol) or you were bored and avoiding sleep by whatever means nessacary (same though) but seriously if you did read all that nonsense I love you thank you so much 😭

Also to anyone who wants to do more analysis and show me up in a spectacular way in the reblogs, you are more than welcome to in fact please do lol

#sailor moon #pretty guardian sailor moon #manga #mamoru chiba #usagi tsukino #mamoru chiba analysis #usagi tsukino analysis #90s sailor moon #mamousa #usamamo

63 notes · View notes

petraswyvern · 1 year

Text

A fun (?) Hubert fact: He goes to part 4 of supports with only Bernadetta and Ferdinand. Each gives him a gift in their A+ with him. But, something else these two have in common is they are both technically war criminals.

“What war crimes?” you say? Glad you asked!

In “Blood of the Eagle and Lion,” aka Gronder 2, Bernadetta comes equipped with Fusillade, a Gambit which rains down poisoned arrows. According to the IHL and Red Cross, this means she is committing a war crime.

“What about Ferdinand?” you say. “My darling boy would never use poisoned weapons!”

True. However, he steals intelligence that does not pertain to armed conflict and is considered private property. This violates Rule 122 of the Geneva Convention, making him a war criminal.

In conclusion, if you want to win Hubert’s heart, you must give him one present and also commit one war crime.

Form an orderly queue,

#fe3h #hubert von vestra

197 notes · View notes

poraphia · 7 months

Text

“Cross My Heart As You Crossed The Line.”

➵ PAIRING! teen!rebel!clinic!Wilbur x teen!rebel!reader

➵ CREATING! 9.29.23 | 2347 words

➵ CONTAINING! mini robbery, gunshots and death, arguing, angst.

➵ SAYING! this is the siren x reader enemies to lovers i wanted to work on for SOO long! I really hope this doesnt flop because I’m literally in love with this story. So I hope you enjoy! this chapter is roughly based off favorite crime, but dw its not a song fic! just some inspo and I def recommend listening to it while reading :)

My masterlist :)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Wil, please, I’m not sure about this.” I quickly muttered.

“Oh, come on, (y/n). We’re going to be fine.”

The midnight air sent chills down my spine. The moon shined down on us like it wanted the world to know the dirty crimes we were about to commit. I rubbed my own arms reassuringly, but the feeling of skin-tight gloves against my bare skin just reminded me of our current situation.

We were outside of a stationed train as Wil picked the lock of one of the carts. I glanced around every so often, paranoid for any officers or snitch pedestrians walking by. “I saw them load this cart earlier and heard that one of the crates inside is full of cash. All we gotta do is take it and go.” He smirked. A small hum rumbled in my throat.

“Wil, this isn’t as typical as stealing snacks from the gas station or sneaking out in the middle of the night. This is actually serious.” I whisper-shouted at him. Again, he groaned and rolled his eyes.

“(y/n), honestly, we’ve got the skills to do this. We’re going to make money and you’re finally going to be able to support yourself!” He announced proudly.

“But like this—?! Wilbur—!”

Before I could finish, Wil dropped the lock onto the dirt ground and slid the cart right open. He turned around to face me, a devilish smirk on his face. A smirk that made me weak in the knees. A smirk that he knew I couldn’t say no to. With a defeated sigh, I followed him into the cart, searching for our cash reward.

“It has to be here somewhere…” He thought out loud. I examined the area. There was nothing here other than crates and boxes labeled in sharpie. As I walked while looking around, a rope in the middle of the floor caught my foot.

“Ah, shit—!” I hissed, losing my balance. Wil immediately took notice and rushed to my side. Before I crashed into the ground, he caught me by my waist with one hand, holding me up as my hair brushed the floor.

“Can’t stop falling for me, can you?” He cheekily commented.

“Oh, be quiet!” I exclaimed. Wil helped me up, and immediately I wrapped my arms around him for a quick but passionate kiss. He kept his hand on my hip, pulling me close to his waist. My hands then trailed to his chest, only to lightly push him away. He whined a little as he tilted his head.

“Don’t give me that look!” I lectured. “You wanted to go on this heist.”

“I did…” He said, jokingly sad. I laughed before we continued searching through the piles of crates. Will examined the crates that were on the opposite corner of where I was stood. Most were against the wall and stacked on top of each other. Curiously in one corner there were three crates visible. I lifted the crate that was on the top and luckily enough there was a special crate that was a darker shade than the rest of them. On the top it was labeled: “do not touch!”

“Hey, honey, I think I found it.” I called out. Wil stepped to my side, examining the crate with me.

“Yup, I think that looks like the one.” He said. We worked together to move the other creates out the way, and once we were successful, we placed the special crate in the middle of the cart. I dusted my hands off and looked at him. Wil had his hands on his hips with his eyebrows knitted together. Once he finished his thought, he slid off his jacket and backpack and clasped his hands together.

“Okay, (y/n), here’s the plan,” He said, digging into his backpack. He pulled out a crowbar along with a drama mask that frowned. “First of all, put on your mask because this is when things start to risky.” I immediately obeyed. I placed my backpack onto the floor and pulled out my matching drama mask that smiled. I placed it on my head, making sure it was secure. He nodded before placing on his own mask. “Next, I’m going to open this crate. Once I do, we stuff this money into our bags and don’t look back, got it? We’ll go through the back alleys so that we don’t look suspicious to anyone wandering around the streets.”

I stared at him a bit, my heart beat starting to race. Is this really happening? Are we actually about to rob a train and try to get away with it? There was no turning back now. With a reluctant sigh, I nodded. Wilbur positioned the crowbar between the actual box and the lid. Using all his strength, he pushed down, cracking the wood open and revealing the bundles of cash inside. I stared down at the container in awe, but even then, I could never push that this nagging feeling of guilty and selfishness.

Regardless, I brushed off the feeling for now and began stuffing my bag with as much wads of cash as I could. Wilbur did the same as he crouched down, digging up as much money as he could and stuffing it deep into his bag. The smell of freshly printed money started to fill my nostrils, so much so I felt a little lightheaded. Once I filled my backpack to the brim, I zipped it right up.

As I stood up, not only did the weight of my backpack held me down, but so did this pit in my stomach. Or maybe it was the immense guilt on my shoulders? Nonetheless, I felt like some sort of… Monster—

“This is LMPD! Step out of the train cart now!”

Flashes of red and blue were highlighting our bodies. My heart dropped to the floor as I all I could do was stare down at Wilbur, who was still crouched down gathering money. The beams of blue outlined his hair and body. I looked down at my pants, noticing that only red was all over my body.

Blue

All over his body.

And red

all over mine.

“(y/n), we need to fucking run.” Wilbur said hastily.

“W-What—?” I trembled out.

“LMPD! OUT OF THE TRAIN AND HANDS UP NOW!”

“(y/n), start running now.”

Without thinking, I bolted out of the cart with my legs in total control. Desperately I tried to ignore the blaring lights and screams that were behind me, but the more I did, the more I crumbled in fear. I dodged through the bushes and litters of trash everywhere. My feet slapping against the concrete as it echoed through the alleyways. Soon enough, I spotted Wilbur from above, who was jumping off elevated ledges to catch up with me. He eventually dropped down beside me before continuing to run.

“W-Where are we going?!” I sputtered out. My body ached and I was running out of breath. Ahead of us in this small alleyway was an open view of what seemed to be an open graveyard.

“We’re almost near the hidden exit! Come on, we—!” We exited out of the narrow path only to be welcomed with three police cars and dozens of cops surrounding us. Both of us had paused in our tracks. I stood closely next to Wil as his arm was held out as if to shield me.

“DROP THE CONTRABAND NOW WITH YOUR HANDS UP!” an officer shouted. My heart was thumping out of my chest. I turned to look at Will, but I could just barely read the expression on his face.

Reluctantly, he spoke. “Cover your ears.” He whispered.

“W-What—?!” Tears started to form in my eyes.

“YOU HAVE ONE LAST CHANCE BEFORE WE SHOOT!”

“FOR FUCKS SAKE!” Wilbur threw off his backpack and rushed to cover my ears. I covered my eyes too in a sense of panic. All I could hear was the muffled sound of screaming, but the screaming then turned into gunshots. Gunshots that would pop in your ears if you weren’t getting them covered. I cowered in fear as my knees buckled with each gunshot.

I was in fear, and I was terrified for my life.

But that itch of curiousity was there.

Begging to be satisfied.

My fingers began to part ways with a little light peeking into my vision.

Everyone knows the phrase “curiousity killed the cat,” right?

Well curiousity also killed the cops.

I watched in utter horror as the cops who were once standing before us shot at each other until they saw red.

Red.

Gradually, Wil started to uncover my ears. The shooting was over and all of the cops were dead. Wil took a step away from me, giving me space to gain my composure. Each inhale felt like another step from sobbing my brains out, and it was apparent.

“Okay, we have to go now before they send more, come on!” Wil grabbed my hand as he carefully navigated me through the dead bodies and weapons scattered along the grassy patches. I trailed behind, not having the courage nor strength to voice any type of concern. We had finally arrived to an alleyway that was hidden and led directly to Wil’s house just a couple of block from here. From there, Wil let go of my hand, but instead of following him, I stood stiffly with my head down.

“(y/n)..?” Wilbur whispered.

My heart was thumping hard out of my chest as tears quietly streamed down my face. I threw off my backpack in frustration, landing it close to Wil’s feet. Without a word, I began walking away.

“(y/n), hey! We finally did it!” He reached out and held my hand again. “We won, didn’t we? Come on, let’s just go home.” Wil quietly begged. I pulled my hand away, not even hesitating for a bit. Even if he wasn’t wearing gloves right now, I just know that his skin would��ve been cold. Cold and painted in blood.

“Wil, I can’t fucking do this anymore.” I said. “I— I have to draw the line here.”

The world fell silent for a minute. I turned to look at him, but I didn’t see his face. No, instead I was only bet by that drama face frown. It honestly felt like some sick metaphor. Seeing the agony on his face, but it wasn’t even his.

“W-What do you mean?” He stuttered out. He let go of my hand as we both stood facing each other just a few feet away. “Come on, (y/n)! We did it. We have the cash and we got away! What’s the problem?!” He cried.

“This!” I gestured behind me. Though the bodies were out of sight, they were definitely not out of mind. “Fucking killing people, Wilbur?! What is wrong with you?!” I screamed at him. My throat ached from the sob I forced to choke down.

“What’s wrong with me?! (y/n), we could’ve gone to jail. Are you fucking kidding me?! I SAVED YOUR LIFE!” He shouted back. “YOU’RE FUCKING UNGRATEFUL! I helped you get this money so you can finally have some sort of income and I just saved your ass from getting prision for life!”

“WILBUR THAT DOESN’T MEAN KILL PEOPLE! THERE WERE SO MANY OTHER SOLUTIONS.”

The tears were streaming hard now. Thank God I was wearing a mask.

Wilbur, after some careful silence, began talking again. “If you don’t want this, (y/n), you can fucking leave. You can keep living this fantasy that this world is just rainbows and sparkles, but this is the real shit we have to get through in order to get by.” He turned around, picking up my backpack along the way. He walked slowly, as if waiting for some sort of argument from me. Some form of plead that showed that I still loved him.

I couldn’t lie to him.

I just couldn’t.

He stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the side so I was at least in eye’s view. “I fucking loved you.” He mumbled. “And I thought you did too.”

Wil was not only my first boyfriend, but was also my first friend. After roughly a year of him moving into West End, we became neighborhood best friends at the age of 13. When we started to go to school together in high school, we started dating. The night of the incident happened when we were 16, and life hasn’t been the same since.

“Delusion?”

I turned around, noticing that Dream was also on the rooftop with me. I sighed before returning my gaze back onto the abandoned train stationed on the tracks.

“I know, patrol time and all. Just give me a moment.” I said, absent-mindedly. He made a noise of confirmation before vanishing behind me.

My name is Delusion. A highlighted hero of The Hero District with the power to enforce visual and audio imageries, fucking with people’s minds. I’d like to believe I’m loved and appreciated in this city, but I know deep down these people fear me. No matter how much I engage with the citizens or how I volunteer to patrol Eastside, I’ve already created a sense of paranoia for them without using my powers.

But at the very least, I’m not using my powers to kill them.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ @deadphantomsociety I KNOW WE BRAIN ROTTED ON THIS LIKE WEEKS AGO BUT I FINALLY DID IT EEEEE hope yall enjoyed!! reblogs and likes and replies are super appreciated and they what help me continue writing! Much lovee

111 notes · View notes