#I never really figured out what the 'cheating' consequence is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

l13 · 10 months

Text

♡miguel x reader x peter♡

a part 2 to this drabble

word count: around 3,1k

WARNINGS : NSFW 18+ ONLY, NO use of y/n, f!reader, voyeurism, cheating (peter on mj), HINTS on miguel x peter but nothing actually happens, blowjob (m receiving), masturbation, making out, swearing, spitting?(not really, YOU'LL SEE OK), miguel loves humiliating peter, miguel gets jealous and territorial very easily, lazy writing, also my first time writing anything close to a threesome so please be kind

a/n: SO SORRY this took so fucking long but I hope that y'all will still enjoy reading it<3

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.

“Fuck, shit, fuck” Peter struggles to pull his pants back up as he turns around swiftly, a hand securely holding on to the front of his sweats as he gulps nervously “Miguel, my man! Fancy seeing you here… look, it’s not what it-”

“Cut the shit, Peter.” Miguel says with crossed arms, “At least have the balls to face the consequences of your… perversions.” he would have looked intimidating if it weren’t for his disheveled look–hair messy, chest rising and falling rapidly (who's he kidding, peter was still scared shitless).

“Wh-huh? I- no, you got it wrong-haha! That’s funny, though! Look- I’m just gonna go-”

“You’re gonna stay where you are.”

“Yup, staying right here.” Peter purses his lips, and he really hopes the outline of his bulge isn't that visible. (it was)

Miguel rolls his eyes, turning around and caressing your cheek as he whispers something against your ear. Peter tries to crane his neck to catch a clearer picture of you despite himself, but with that hunk of a man in front of you, it was a lost call.

You were nervous. Understandably so. Miguel’s words, when you were too busy cumming around his cock merely minutes ago, echoed in your head.

“Yeah, baby?S good, right? So perfect for me baby, fuck. Seems like you got what you wanted after all.” you had furrowed your eyebrows, confused, barely able to keep your eyes open, but when Miguel pointed his thumb at a nearby monitor with the camera surveillance of the place shining bright, with a figure right in the middle, you'd understood what he meant. And you'd liked it.

You cock your head to the side now, as you come to stand next to Miguel, grinning bashfully at Peter, who was looking at you with a gaping mouth. You’d laugh at the way he failed to cover his bulge with his hand, but you were too nervous to do so, so you decided to ignore the act altogether, even if it made your insides flip, “Hi, Peter.”

Jesus Christ, your voice. “Yellow-he-Hi!” Peter’s mouth was so dry, he doesn’t know how he managed to reply. Was after-sex-glow a thing? Because, fuck, you were glowing. There was this flush covering your cheeks and Peter thinks he wants to kiss you all over. Without even realizing it, his feet begin taking him over to you two. But not even a step in, and he’s very rudely interrupted.

“What are you doing?” Miguel’s tone is calm, and yet gives Peter an eerie sensation at the back of his neck that makes him swallow nervously, stopping in his tracks. “Uh- well, I just thought-”

“You thought wrong.” Miguel says blankly.

Peter flushes, seemingly understanding what Miguel planned to do, and takes multiple steps back till his back hits the wall behind him. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. “I- I don’t-”

“What? You didn’t actually think I was going to let you come anywhere near her?” Miguel’s laugh is cruel, and tears well in Peter’s eyes at the underlying humiliation.

“Don’t be mean,” you mutter against Miguel’s ear, your hands circling around his waist as you hug him, your eyes never leaving Peter’s. Yeah, Peter thought, don’t be mean, bitch.

Miguel softens under your touch, draping his arm over your shoulder to bring you impossibly closer, suddenly very aware of his own still very hard cock. He starts pressing kisses along your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw, and you smile as you nuzzle against him. “Oh baby, you’re still hard, aren’t you? How selfish of me,” you didn’t sound sorry at all. But neither Miguel nor Peter cared.

Oh yeah, Peter was still very much here. Cock throbbing and all.

“Stop teasing, bebita,” Miguel hisses, his eyes fluttering as he ruts his hips against you, the smallest of whimpers escaping his lips. Peter would have laughed if Miguel’s voice didn’t make the sound hot. Another fact about Miguel that pissed him off, because when Peter whimpers, it sounds pathetic.

Peter drops his hand over his bulge, groaning under his breath when he squeezes himself over his pants, finally getting some much needed friction.

To Peter’s utter horror, that was the moment that Miguel remembered that he was still in the room, and Peter froze when Miguel’s eyes met his, goosebumps rising all over his body when Miguel’s gaze dropped to his covered cock. Fuck. “Touch yourself for all I care, but know that this is the first and last time I’m letting you in on this. The next time I catch you creeping on her, I’ll kill you.” Well, that was not at all what Peter expected. How horrible, and assertive. Not at all arousing.

Peter cleared his throat, “Kill me. Yeah. Yup. No, yeah, I got it.”

You laugh softly, your own hand dropping to palm Miguel over his suit, “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,”

Miguel tries hard to hide the slight tremble in his voice at the slight contact you gave him, “Is that so?”. He dropped his head, breath fanning across your neck, “Wanna test that theory?”. Both men smile when your breath hitches, Peter staring hard, and finally pulling his cock out. He inhales sharply when he wraps his hand around himself, so desperately wanting to close his eyes and fuck his fist till he comes, but keeps them open so as not to miss the show you so generously were putting in front of him. His eyes follow Miguel’s movements, as he bends to lick across your neck, biting down on your skin a second later, both men letting out sounds of appreciation as you moan.

Peter jerks his cock at a slow pace, eyes hooded, matching the tempo at which the tension builds up. He feels sick doing this, but he can’t help but let the pleasure take his mind off of the guilt that’s ready to eat him up, choosing to focus on how your throat bobs as you swallow, your lips forming a pretty 'o' as you lace your fingers through Miguel’s hair, mewling when he grazes his teeth over your collarbones.

Miguel presses the softest of kisses on the spot he’d previously bitten, and says, “On your knees, baby.” Peter is lightheaded by the pure sex dripping from Miguel’s voice, his cock twitching under his palm, and he squeezes his hand around the base of it, slowly bringing it up to circle around his tip, openly panting like a bitch in heat.

Seeing you drop to your knees was a sight Peter never thought he’d ever see, but one that he was very thankful for. From this angle, you gave Peter the perfect view of your profile. You were grinning, your expression a bit hazy, a bit cockdrunk. The tank top you were wearing looked crinkled, and Peter wondered if Miguel had the material bunched up over your tits while he was fucking you.

Peter stares as you grab at Miguel’s thighs over his suit, squeezing the flesh appreciatively as you look up at him expectedly. God, you were begging to get fucked again. Wait- over his suit? Miguel was still wearing his suit, how the fuck-

As if Peter was voicing his thoughts out loud, the material of Miguel’s suit disappeared slowly, his cock springing up, balls dropping the slightest bit from the secure hold they were being kept up by the tightness of the suit. The start of his thighs and his belly were also exposed, pretty bronze skin a perfect contrast to the deep blue color of his suit.

“What the fuck was that?!” Peter can't help but let out, and Miguel throws him a proud smirk, “Nanotech,” You smile at the small nerdy exchange, too preoccupied to properly join in the conversation. Miguel’s pleasure was above everything else. You wrap your hand around his thick cock, moaning softly as you trace the veins on the side, bending down to kiss and suck on his fat balls. “Makes things easier-ah fuuuck,” Miguel bites on his lower lip roughly, brows furrowing as he bucks into your hand, hand caressing the side of your jaw gently. You looked so fucking beautiful.

Peter drops his other hand to fondle his balls, suddenly jealous, and throws his head back against the wall, groaning as he still keeps his eyes open to watch you.

Five minutes later, Peter was still copying your movements. When you licked at Miguel’s tip, dragging your tongue over the head, and lapping up the precum greedily, Peter made sure he only touched his tip as well, circling and rolling his hand over the head. When you licked the sides of Miguel’s cock, your hand following the same pattern just under your tongue, Peter was jerking his cock in perfect synchronization, mimicking your technique entirely. He could practically taste the pleasure Miguel was getting.

During all this, Peter couldn’t hold back his voice. He moaned and groaned shamelessly, raising his hips to meet his hand sloppily. Fuck, he was so close to coming.

Miguel was truly no better, he was just better at masking it. He constantly gritted his teeth, hissing at your antics, but the occasional moan would slip, and it always made your pussy throb, as if you could feel it vibrating against you.

You take Miguel’s cock in your mouth with no warning, the tip touching your throat as you swallow around him, nose touching the base of his cock, your eyes tearing up quickly. Both men sputter at the sudden action. Miguel moans loudly, his belly flexing as he bends over you, fingers threading between your hair.

Peter almost comes right then and there, the movement of his hand on his cock so fast and rough, that it was creating a lewd wet sound “S-shit, you look so good, sweet thingmff fuuck. Yeah-like that, Oh my God,”

Both yours and Miguel’s heads snap up, surprised by Peter’s outburst. Miguel raises an eyebrow, his jaw locking. Was this asshole really imagining he was in his place? Well, he couldn’t exactly blame him, but it still pissed him off. When he turned his head to look at you, though, you were looking at Peter curiously and- were you biting your lip?

“Something you wanna say to him, baby?” Miguel’s voice comes out dry, and you can instantly tell he’s mad. You send him a knowing smile, shaking your head softly, “Not really. I just think he sounds sweet.”

“Yeah?” Peter whimpers in reply immediately. I sound sweet, I sound sweet, I sound sweet.

You glance at Peter again, rubbing your thighs together, and Miguel scowls at the movement and tugs at your hair hard, “Keep talking, Peter. Somehow, she seems to be liking your whining.”

“S so good, you’re so good, fuck I wanna feel your mouth on me so bad,” Peter babbles mindlessly and you can't help but watch as he thrusts into his hand needily.

Miguel notices you staring and grinds his teeth together, “What are you looking at him for, huh? Looking at his cock when mine is right in front of you. Am I not enough for you, bebita?” Your head whips around to look at the man in front of you, your eyes widening a fraction as you shake your head softly.

You make sure to put on a show as you run your lips all over Miguel’s cock, spreading his pre-cum all over your mouth and chin as you talk, “You’re everything. Your cock ‘s so pretty, the prettiest ever. Love it s’much..”. Miguel feels satisfaction spread in his veins, making him warm all over. He slaps his cock over your cheek for good measure as he stands taller and huffs out a condescending laugh, glancing at Peter with a dumb smirk on his face. That’ll teach him.

But what Miguel sees is not at all what he expected.

Peter’s eyes roll back, the hand on his cock tightening as he moans. Fuck, he wants nothing more than to be at Miguel’s place right now that it’s driving him insane. “Such a good fucking girl, baby, shit.”

Miguel snarls at his reaction before snapping his head back to you, “Open your mouth,”

You do as you’re told, tongue out as you stare up at him with doe eyes, but he just clicks his tongue, “Wider.” Miguel shoves his hand in your mouth, his thumb on your tongue as the rest of his fingers cradle your jaw. He pumps his cock with his other hand, biting his lip, and mutters “Yeah, just like that.. You gonna be good for me?” You nod, and Miguel's thumb gets coated in your saliva from the movement.

Miguel grins and takes his thumb out, slowly turning his head to lock eyes with Peter. Then, he brings his hand up to his face and closes his mouth around his thumb, hollowing his cheeks prettily as he sucks your spit off his finger, his gaze dropping to Peter's cock.

Peter's jaw slacks, and his hips stutter at the sight in front of him. Miguel's low chuckle falls on deaf ears, Peter being too busy watching your hands squeeze Miguel's ass impatiently, trying to coax him back in your mouth, mewling when he relents and slips his cock inside. Miguel can't help but raise his hips as you bob your head up and down his length.

Peter spits on his cock suddenly, the filthy sound making you glance at him again, and Miguel's jaw ticks “It’s okay, bebita, you can look at him. Look, but know that he could never fuck you like I did. Or did you forget how you creamed around my cock, hm? I bet that pussy’s still wet for me,”

Peter moans approvingly, “Mm I bet it is..”

Miguel inhales sharply, his eyes falling shut, “Peter.”

“Yeahuh? Fuck. Yeah?”

“Get your ass over here.” Peter nearly falls on his face as he stumbles forward, raising his sweatpants carelessly as he walks over. His hands tremble when he clasps them together in front of him lamely, standing awkwardly near you both.

“Closer, pendejo.” Peter gawks at Miguel's request, shakes his head, and reluctantly takes two steps closer. He made sure to throw a glance towards Miguel to ensure that he wasn’t getting punched anytime soon.

“Hold her hair back.”

Peter must have died and went to heaven. There was no fucking way this was happening-

“Did you hear what I fucking said-"

Peter jumps when Miguel raises his voice and quickly springs into action. His breath hitches, but he can't help himself- not when he's carefully pulling your hair back, his fingers brushing your cheeks, avoiding touching Miguel's hands as he's still holding your head, practically using your mouth as a fleshlight.

Peter tries not to react when you gargle around Miguel's cock, the popping sound your mouth makes when you pull back to get some air pulling a hiss out of him. You cough messily, and as you do, you turn to look at Peter, in all your tears-running-down-your-cheeks glory. And then you grin at him, and Peter's legs buckle. And despite everything, despite the drool running down your chin, and Miguel's hard cock still in his field of view- Peter says, “Rough day, huh,"

You snort out a laugh, and Miguel's eyes almost roll to the back of his head because- how the fuck is that funny?- and so, he growls, tapping your lips twice with his cock before shoving it back inside your mouth, his head dropping as he moans lowly.

“Oh, fuck.” Miguel’s head was fuzzy, hypnotized by the way you bobbed your head up and down his cock, your hands fondling his balls with juust the right amount of pressure that made his thighs shake. He touches your jaw with his pointer finger, thumb drawing circles over your cheek in awe. “Baby, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Peter whimpers, “fuck…” and Miguel laughs breathlessly, tongue running over his fangs, “Are you gonna fuck your fist again when you think back to this? Back when she had her pretty lips wrapped around my cock and you watched her take it.. Jesus Christ, you look pathetic. I bet if she told you to hump the fucking floor, you would.”

Peter moans and nods absentmindedly, pulling his cock out hurriedly and starting to jerk his cock sloppily, gaze glued on your fluttering eyes, mascara running down your cheeks prettily. His eyes flicker from your face to your cleavage and he whines. Your tits just look so soft, he can't help himself.

Miguel, ever the perceptive man, notices this, “Be a good girl and pull your shirt up for Peter, baby.” You moan around his cock at the way his voice trembles, and raise your shirt over your boobs, suddenly very aware of your own underwear sticking to your pussy mesilly. Fuck, you were drenched.

“Oh my God,” Peter pants, eyes losing focus, hand on your hair loosening as he moves his hips back and forth, fucking into his hand relentlessly. “I'm gonna cum, gonna cum-”

“Cum on her tits.”

Peter sobs, stepping closer to jerk his cock just over your tits and he jumps when he feels you squeeze his thigh, nails digging into the skin. He feels his balls tighten, and he grasps your shoulder as his knees buckle suddenly. “I'm cumming- Oh fuck I'm-” his cock twitches as he cums, painting your pretty tits white, the jerks of his hand never stopping as he rides out his orgasm.

For a moment, it feels as though only Peter's moans and whimpers can be heard, and fuck, he hopes there's no one outside because he's so fucking loud, and it's so humiliating that he can feel tears running down his cheeks. He feels lightheaded and utterly spent as he pumps his cock, squeezing his hand tight around himself as he watches the last of his cum drip down his length and onto your shirt, turning it a darker shade.

“Oh- fuck. Oh my fucking God.” Peter bites back a whimper and shudders, when you bring your hands to your tits, squeezing them roughly and getting his cum aaall over them.

The ringing in Peter's ears fades away, and he snaps his eyes to Miguel when he hears the state he's in.

Miguel grunts each time he snaps his cock back in your mouth, reveling in your gurgles, feeling the vibration of your moans go straight to his balls, and he. can't. stop. Not when he'd just seen Peter cum all over your tits like that. Not when he'd liked watching him do it.

“Take it. Fuck- take my fuckin' cum baby-shit,” Miguel whimpers and snarls as he snaps his hips one final time, holding your head in place, his thighs shaking as he cums down your throat. He throws his head back when he feels you swallow around his length, muttering incoherently to himself in Spanish as he whimpers and groans.

Miguel stumbles back slightly, cock slipping from your mouth at last, and both men can't help but stare hungrily, their cocks hardening once more as you gather the excess cum that's dripping down your chin in your hands, licking it out of your palms a second later. All three of you are panting hard, letting your actions linger in the air for a moment.

But then you look up at them, a sinful glint in your eyes, and Miguel turns to Peter and says,

“What are you waiting for? Lick her tits clean.”

2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

#•ूᡣ𐭩 — miguel #•ूᡣ𐭩 — peter b #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara x reader #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x reader smut

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months

Note

Omg pleaseeee Don’t Blame Me - “For you, I would cross the line, I would waste my time, I would lose my mind.” With Auston Matthews

Babe, say no more 😉🤍

You know, this idea actually popped into my head a while back for a potential series, but I never got around to writing it down… 🙃 Anyway, I thought it might fit this prompt, even though it doesn't contain all the details 😉

Just to give you a heads up, though, the plot is mainly about cheating, which might not be everyone's cup of tea... but you know, it definitely adds some drama to the story! 🔥

I hope you enjoy it 🤍

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Short summary; When, you, the poised wife of a hockey executive encounter the star forward of the Toronto Maple Leafs, your attraction sparks a tumultuous affair. However, as you navigate secrecy and guilt, will you choose to embrace your forbidden love or face the consequences?

Warnings & tropes; Secret affair (cheating); briefly enemies to friends; friends to lovers; sexual content - unprotected sex (p in v);

Word count; 4.2K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Don't Blame Me - Your Love Made Me Crazy I Auston Matthews 🖋️⚡️🔥

The cool air of the ice hockey arena surrounded you as you navigated through the busy corridors of the Scotiabank Arena. Dressed in a smartly tailored suit appropriate for your role as the wife of one of the investors for Maple Leaf Sports & Entertainment (MLSE), you projected an aura of confidence and sophistication. This was now your domain, where the game meant more than just a sport—it was a business, a passion, and a way of life.

However, amidst the crowd of players and staff, one figure stood out—Auston Matthews, the star forward of the Toronto Maple Leafs. His presence seemed to demand attention, his demeanour exuding a blend of determination and intensity that mirrored the game he played.

However, like many drama stories, your interactions with Auston began on a less than pleasant note.

In his eyes, you were nothing more than a wealthy socialite who had married into money, and he treated you with scepticism. Likewise, you saw him as an arrogant athlete whose focus rarely extended beyond the hockey rink.

And whenever you found yourselves in the same vicinity, the tension was palpable as the two of you exchanged wary glances, each assessing the other with thinly veiled suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" Auston inquired, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity as you crossed paths in the arena hallway.

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinising gaze, feeling defensive at the implied judgment in his question. "I'm here to support the team," you replied evenly, masking the irritation simmering beneath the surface.

Auston's lips curled into a smug smirk. "Ah, of course, because I'm sure you're a huge hockey fan," he retorted sarcastically, his words laced with disdain.

You felt a surge of indignation, his words implying more than just a casual insult, igniting a flame of resentment within you. "Surprisingly enough, some of us care about more than just the final score," you retorted sharply, your sarcasm thinly veiled.

Auston's smirk wavered, a flicker of surprise evident in his eyes. "Really?" he responded, his tone almost disbelieving. "And what exactly is it that you care about, apart from mingling with the players?"

You bristled at his dismissive tone, rejecting the notion that you were merely another wealthy socialite seeking amusement. "I actually hold a degree in sports psychology," you countered defiantly, a touch of defiance in your voice. "And I'm here to contribute my expertise to the team, whether you appreciate it or not."

Auston's demeanour softened slightly, a glimmer of genuine interest replacing his earlier scepticism. "Sports psychology, huh?" he pondered, his tone less mocking. "That's at least something."

And surprisingly, you resisted the temptation to roll your eyes at his thinly veiled compliment, opting instead to concentrate on the task at hand.

It was evident that many of your initial encounters with Auston had been less than ideal, and as he departed, leaving you standing in the hallway, you couldn’t help but scoff at the conceited forward.

Yet, fate had a peculiar way of intertwining lives. As you delved deeper into the nuances of sports psychology, armed with your education and expertise, Auston gradually began to take notice. He witnessed first-hand the subtle yet profound impact your insights had on the team's dynamics, and on their performance both on and off the ice.

And one evening, following an especially demanding practice session, Auston remained behind, his expression a blend of frustration and curiosity. "So, what's the deal with all this psychology stuff anyway?" he inquired, his tone more earnest than accusatory, as he joined you in the locker room while the others continued their workout in the fitness room.

You paused, deliberating your response before replying. "It's about understanding the mind, Auston. How it influences our performance, our reactions, our ability to collaborate as a team."

Auston raised an eyebrow, though he couldn't deny feeling intrigued. "And you actually think all that mumbo jumbo can help us win games?"

You couldn’t help but smile slightly, a flicker of amusement dancing in your eyes as you regarded the confident player before you. "I believe it can make a difference. Sometimes, it's not just about physical skills—it's about mental resilience, about finding that extra edge when it matters most."

Auston appeared to gradually grasp the significant role you had come to play for the team, offering you a simple nod before departing, leaving you to your work.

And as weeks passed, you found yourself engaging in more frequent and in-depth conversations with the player, as he began seeking your advice not only on the ice but also off it.

"Hey, uh, mind if I pick your brain for a bit?" he'd inquire, a sheepish grin playing at the corners of his mouth, meeting you in one of the small offices, unofficially designated for your use.

And amidst the whirlwind of strategy sessions and pre-game routines, an unexpected bond began to form— a bond that was an unspoken acknowledgment, a silent understanding that there was more to the connection between you and Auston than initially met the eye.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, your presence within the Leafs' inner circle became more prominent, and you found yourself deeply involved in the team's daily routines, from pre-game rituals to post-match analyses. And with each interaction, the bond between you and the players, including Auston, strengthened.

Yet, despite your efforts to maintain professionalism, your communication with Auston had a natural way to evolve into something more personal. You weren’t entirely sure why, but the Arizona boy simply had a knack for breaking down your defences and gradually entering your personal space. And you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it.

For weeks, you shared laughter and began to build inside jokes, slowly blurring the lines between professionalism and friendship.

And, when Auston's banter veered into flirtation, it began to test the boundaries you had established. His playful remarks and charming smiles eroded the walls around your heart, tempting you to yield to the allure of something forbidden.

Yet, you remained resolute in your commitment to your marriage, brushing aside the enticing temptation that Auston represented. But beneath the mask of indifference, a storm brewed—a conflict between duty and desire, loyalty and longing.

And Auston, perspective as ever, began to detect the turmoil simmering within you, as he observed with sharp eyes as you navigated the delicate tightrope between professionalism and personal restraint. In those fleeting moments of vulnerability, he glimpsed the fissures in your facade, the unspoken yearning concealed beneath the surface.

Then one evening, the atmosphere at Mitch’s restaurant was vibrant and animated, the clinking of glasses and laughter echoing through the air as the team gathered for their post-game revelry. Auston felt drawn to you once more, his steps leading him to where you sat at the back of the room, encircled by the familiar faces of his teammates.

Taking a seat beside you, Auston's gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than usual, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that caught you off guard. "You know, you don't have to pretend with me," he gently whispered in your ear, his voice soft and sincere, so no one would hear.

You tensed at his words, the earnestness in his tone stirring something within you. "I'm not entirely sure what you're getting at," you responded, a touch of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

But Auston's gaze softened, his expression filled with empathy as he reached out to you. "I can see that you’re not happy y/n – that you’re trapped in a marriage that you don’t really want," he said gently. "You deserve to be with someone who wants you, who treats you good."

His words hung in the air, their weight sinking deep into your consciousness. For in Auston's eyes, you glimpsed a reflection of your own longings, mirrored back to you with striking clarity.

“You don’t understand…” you attempted to explain, your voice faltering as uncertainty clouded your mind.

“What don't I understand?” Auston probed, his gaze unwavering as he sought answers in your eyes.

“Marriages aren’t always simple…” you offered weakly, struggling to articulate the turmoil within your heart.

“I know, but there should still be love,” Auston countered, his voice resolute yet gentle.

“I do love him, Auston…” you insisted, the words tasting bitter as they left your lips.

But Auston didn't relent, his gaze piercing as he posed a question that struck at the heart of your conflict. “Are you sure? Then why do you feel attracted to me?”

The question lingered; its weight palpable between you. And for a moment, you grappled with a response, torn between the truth of your desires and the promises you had made.

But with a heavy heart, you instead rose from your seat, making a distance between you and Auston a painful reminder of the boundaries you dared not breach. And as you joined the captain a few paces away, the night progressed, the team's laughter and camaraderie serving as both a comfort and a poignant reminder of the unspoken connection that bound you and Auston.

A week later, you found yourself accompanying the team on the road, a suggestion made by the coaching staff who had recognised the importance of your insights, especially in the wake of several consecutive losses. With morale low, your role had become more crucial than ever before, as each player sought to unburden their concerns and frustrations, seeking your guidance to chart a path forward, and you willingly provided a sympathetic ear and professional perspective.

However, one player didn’t approach you until after the official work hours had concluded.

In the dimly lit hotel room, elongated shadows danced across the walls, accompanied only by the soft hum of the air conditioning unit. You reclined on your bed, attempting to ease your mind, yet the players’ worries weighed heavily on your thoughts.

Then a sudden knock shattered the silence, startling you, and with a slightly racing heart, you approached the door, cautiously turning the knob to reveal Auston standing outside, his expression a mix of frustration and agitation.

"Hey," he greeted brusquely, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Can we talk?"

You simply nodded, stepping aside to let him in, as a sense of unease gnawing at you. And as Auston entered the room, his movements were deliberate and tense, his eyes burning with emotion.

"We lost again," he began, his words sharp and succinct, as he stood in the middle of your room. "And I can't shake this feeling that it's all my fault, that I've let the team down."

Your heart went out to him, a wave of empathy washing over you as you gently approached him. "It's not only your fault, Auston," you reassured him, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "You're an exceptional player, one of the best I've seen. Sometimes, things simply don't go as planned."

Auston's gaze softened a little, his defences weakening in the face of your understanding. "I know," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "But it still sucks, you know? Knowing that I could've done better, that I disappointed everyone."

You slowly drew a little closer to him, the atmosphere thick with unspoken emotion. "You're not alone in this, Auston," you murmured softly. "We win together, and we lose together. That's the essence of being a team."

And for a moment, a heavy silence enveloped the room, the weight of the night pressing down on your shoulders. Then, almost as if drawn by an invisible force, Auston leaned in towards you, his lips tenderly brushing against yours in a fleeting caress.

You almost froze, panic coursing through your veins as you swiftly pulled away, your heart racing. "Auston, we can't," you protested, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Confusion clouded his features, his brow furrowing in frustration. "Why not?" he demanded, his tone tinged with anger. "Don't you feel it too? The connection between us?"

But a form of shy anger seemed to surge within you, mingling with hurt and betrayal. "Of course, I do," you retorted, your voice slightly escalating. "But that doesn't change the fact that this is wrong…"

Auston's gaze hardened, his resolve unwavering. "I can't do this – you’re fucking with me, and I can’t take it," he declared, his voice laced with a hint of anger. "I thought... I thought there was something real between us, but maybe I was wrong."

The hotel room suddenly felt oppressively small as unspoken words hung heavily in the air. You watched as Auston turned to leave, his footsteps echoing on the plush carpet beneath him.

"Auston, wait!" you called out, desperation seeping into your voice, prompting him to halt, his shoulders stiffening at the sound of your plea.

"What now?" he muttered; frustration evident in his tone.

"I... please don't leave like this..." you trailed off, the words catching in your throat.

Auston turned back to face you, his expression a blend of confusion and frustration. "y/n.. I don't get you! What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice tinged with exasperation.

And tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. "I don't know... I just... I just don't want-" you started, your voice trembling with emotion.

But before you could complete your sentence, Auston closed the gap between you in a single stride, his lips crashing onto yours in a desperate, passionate kiss. His hands firmly cupping your face to keep you close. The world around you faded as you surrendered to the embrace, the intensity of his touch setting your senses ablaze.

And in that moment, as Auston's lips met yours in a sudden surge of passion, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions engulfed you. Shock, desire, and a hint of desperation swirled together as you melted into his arms, his touch igniting a flame of longing and desire that threatened to consume you entirely.

All the doubts and fears that had haunted you seemed to vanish in the heat of the moment, replaced by an overwhelming rush of raw emotion and unspoken longing.

However, as you succumbed to the overwhelming rush of passion, a voice in the depths of your mind whispered warnings of the inevitable consequences, the fallout of giving in to forbidden love.

So reluctantly, you pulled away, your breaths ragged as you searched Auston's eyes for understanding. "We can't continue like this," you whispered, your voice quivering with uncertainty.

Auston's expression softened, his gaze locking with yours in a silent plea for forgiveness. "I know," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But I can't seem to help myself, y/n. I want you."

Guilt tugged at your heartstrings, torn between longing for something more and the weight of impending consequences. "I want you too," you confessed, your voice barely audible. "But I can't bear to keep hurting the people I care about."

Auston's shoulders sagged in resignation, the weight of your words settling heavily upon him. "I know," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "But I don't know how to stop."

And in a moment of vulnerability, as you teetered on the edge of something forbidden and perilous, you knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and obstacles.

“Me neither,” you whispered softly, before pressing your lips fervently against his.

It was a heated, passionate exchange where you surrendered to your deepest desires, allowing raw, primal lust to take control. And as your fingers tangled in his hair, Auston's hands found your lower back, using his size to guide you towards the bed.

The urgency of the moment was palpable as you both hastily shed the layers that separated you, consumed by an overwhelming need for each other. Your lips remained locked in a fervent embrace, only parting briefly to discard clothing, and as Auston eagerly explored your mouth with his tongue he positioned himself over you on the bed.

Hands roamed each other's bodies, exploring every inch of soft skin offered, and you couldn't help but notice Auston's member growing firmer with each deep breath and moan exchanged between hungry kisses.

The atmosphere in the small hotel room grew thick with desire as your moans reverberated, the air heavy with anticipation. And as Auston used his hands to pin yours above your head, you felt the tip of his throbbing length teasing your entrance.

“Auston,” you moaned, the urgency in your voice betraying your growing need for more than just his lips. “Please, make love to me.”

And without hesitation, he obliged.

With determined thrusts, he entered you, filling your depths with his length and stimulating your walls with each movement.

Your moans intertwined as he rocked his hips in a steady rhythm, his motions gentle yet impassioned as he explored every inch of your sensitive flesh.

“Oh, baby, you feel so good around me,” he praised you in a husky voice, his breath hot against your neck as he increased his pace.

And you couldn't deny the overwhelming pleasure of Auston's length inside you. The way his thick cock caressed every part of your sensitive core, the tip of his length hitting your sweet spot with each thrust, sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, leaving you seeing stars.

Then releasing one of your hands, Auston placed his between your heated bodies, finding your clit and circling it with skilled precision. And his actions brought you nothing but closer to the brink of an orgasm. The pleasure of climax built within you, intensified by Auston's increasing thrusts and his expert touch on your sensitive bud.

“Yes, Auston, please, I’m close,” you moaned, your voice harmonising with the rhythm of his thrusts. And with a few more moments, you finally closed your eyes, arched your back, and cried out his name as you reached the peak of ecstasy.

Your mind clouded with sensation as Auston maintained his steady rhythm, feeling his own climax approaching as you tightened around him. And with a swift motion, he released his grip, pulling out momentarily, eliciting a soft sigh from you, before forcefully turning you over onto your stomach and re-entering you.

You let out a surprised moan as he filled you once more, the sound of skin slapping together filling the room.

“Oh, yes,” Auston moaned between heavy breaths, his thrusts growing increasingly intense. And as the pressure built within him, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer, releasing a deep grunt as he spilled his seed into your depths. As he emptied himself inside you, the two of you released deep breaths and sighs, slowly emerging from the euphoric haze of climax.

It was a moment suffused with intense passion, yet as Auston left your room, you couldn't shake the feeling of needing a long shower to wash away the sense of dirtiness and filth that lingered.

As days melted into weeks, the tumultuous dance between you and Auston persisted, fuelled by a potent blend of desire, guilt, and longing. Despite the rational voice of conscience clamouring within you, you found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

Each stolen moment with him ignited a fire within you, a blaze of passion that consumed your every thought and desire. The thrill of the forbidden, the danger of being caught—it only added to the allure, heightening the intensity of your shared experiences.

With every win and every loss for the team, the bond between you and Auston deepened, transcending the confines of reason and morality. It was as if the highs and lows of the game mirrored the highs and lows of your illicit affair, each victory a triumph of desire, each defeat a bitter reminder of the forbidden nature of your love.

Naturally, guilt lingered at the edges of your conscience, a constant reminder of the vows broken, and trust betrayed. Yet, in Auston's arms, all thoughts of remorse faded, replaced by a desperate yearning for solace, for an escape from the wreckage of your marriage.

He had become your drug, and you found yourself hopelessly addicted to him.

Nights at the Scotiabank Arena became your sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of your crumbling life. While your husband immersed himself in his work and business meetings, you sought solace in the arms of another. With each passing night, the boundaries between right and wrong blurred until they were mere echoes of a reality long forgotten. In the darkness of Auston's bedroom, you found moments of pleasure, fleeting ecstasy in a world torn apart by deceit and desire.

But even as you surrendered to the intoxicating allure of your forbidden love, a nagging voice whispered in the depths of your soul—a voice warning of the inevitable reckoning, of the price you would pay for your transgressions.

Yet, in the heat of passion, such concerns faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart, the rush of adrenaline, the overwhelming need for the man who had become your addiction, your obsession, your everything.

Yet, on another night, you found yourself back on the side-lines of a match, then lingering in the locker room after all the players had departed. All but one.

The locker room was dimly lit, heavy with the scent of sweat and anticipation as Auston's lips met yours in a fierce, desperate kiss, his hands exploring eagerly over your body as he lifted you up, pressing you against the cold, hard surface of the wall. Caught up in the heat of the moment, you surrendered to the overwhelming rush of desire, your senses consumed by the intoxicating taste of his tongue, the feel of his strong arms enveloping you.

And as the kiss deepened, the world around you faded away, leaving only the electric current of desire pulsing between you. His lips moved with a hunger that mirrored your own, his hands tracing urgent paths over your bottom.

"Shit, I've wanted this all day," Auston murmured against your lips, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart raced as you surrendered to the intensity of the moment, every touch igniting a wildfire of longing within you. "Me too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears.

However, unbeknownst to you, your husband had chosen this night to attend a game, seeking to understand why you had been so consumed by your work with the team for months. And as he stood just beyond the threshold, silently witnessing the betrayal unfolding before his eyes, the truth dawned on him.

But lost in the heat of passion, you were oblivious to his presence, drowning your guilt in the overwhelming desire that threatened to consume you entirely.

It was only later, upon returning home, that the full weight of your betrayal crashed down upon you.

The air between you and your husband was thick with tension as you faced each other, his accusing gaze weighing heavily upon you. His words pierced the silence like a knife, each one carrying the sting of betrayal.

"How could you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with pain and disbelief. "How could you betray me like this?"

You tried to speak, to offer some explanation for your actions, but the words failed you, suffocated by guilt and shame.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all along? Sleeping with hockey players behind my back?”

And in that moment, as the reality of your actions sank in, you knew there was no turning back, no undoing the damage. As silence enveloped you both, a chasm of pain and regret widened between you, leaving behind only the shattered remnants of a love that could never be repaired.

With the final signature inked on the paper, the reality of your separation loomed ahead, and despite the uncertainty of what lay beyond, you held onto the belief that it was the right decision.

Love for your husband had faded long ago and clinging onto a hollow semblance of a relationship felt unjust to both of you.

So, as each party fulfilled their obligations, you found yourself at a crossroads, uncertain of what the future held. But one thing remained clear: you needed to discover if Auston's feelings mirrored your own.

Then with a heavy heart and nerves frayed, you made your way to the condo where you'd shared your deepest desires, and as Auston greeted you with a concerned gaze, he feared the worst as he noticed your sorrowful expression. Perhaps you were here to end things, to focus on rebuilding your marriage, he thought.

However, as the words left your lips, a sense of relief washed over him.

"It's over, Auston," you managed a soft smile, despite the tears in your eyes. "My marriage is over."

And in that moment, Auston realised the depth of his feelings for you. The fear that you might not want him, only to be met with the revelation that you had chosen him.

“Finally.”

With love swelling in his heart, he welcomed you into his home, embracing the freedom to love you openly.

As you found solace in his arms, the weight of the past dissolved, leaving only the promise of a future brimming with love and possibility. Entwined together, you faced the uncertainties ahead, fortified by a love that conquered all obstacles.

#my asks #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews x reader #toronto maple leafs fic #nhl hockey imagine #auston matthews smut

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goodnightmemes · 6 months

Text

THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ I'm sorry for your loss, your...your losses, rather. ❜

❛ Nobody gets away with anything. Not really. ❜

❛ Don't lecture me about family values. You're just as shit in that department as I am. ❜

❛ That day was the last day we were all in the same place. Alive. ❜

❛ They will love you because I love you, and the only thing stronger than love is how scared they are of getting cut out of the will. ❜

❛ And most people go their whole, wasted, stupid lives without one minute of true resolution. Not me though. ❜

❛ You know what a resolution is? It's a deal you make with the future. ❜

❛ The people in charge of making us healthy make us sick. We cheat the dying. We fleece the poor. Promote the racist. Let the demons run amok. This world needs changing. ❜

❛ You're supposed to be shadowing me. Shadows don't fucking talk. ❜

❛ This is beneath you. And you're going to kill it. But you're better than all of this. And the minute you figure that out, you're going to be unstoppable. ❜

❛ There's no such thing as a step back. You go forward. If you hit a brick wall, you don't go back, you go through. ❜

❛ Nearly realized is the sweetest. It's better, I promise, in the moment just before than in the moment after. ❜

❛ You are consequence. And tonight, you are consequential. ❜

❛ You are a pretty, pretty little thing. ❜

❛ You wonder why people hate us. This is why. ❜

❛ Everybody knows that edible arrangements are what you send to people you hate. ❜

❛ If you start thinking this is reality, you'll just slip into the abyss. ❜

❛ We can talk about it after because I've had a shit day and I really just wanna starfish and forget the world. ❜

❛ Don't talk to me until I've come at least twice. ❜

❛ I love how deliciously, pointlessly mean you lot can be. ❜

❛ You still didn't need to come here though. It could have happened quiet. Peaceful. In bed. But I guess it's got to happen like this. ❜

❛ It's amazing how far you can get on denial. You know why so many people use denial to get by? Because it really fucking works. ❜

❛ You can't enhance this image? You see it all the time on TV. They hit a button, it enhances it. ❜

❛ I don't even own anything funeral black. ❜

❛ Satin is silk for poor people, no one should wear it to a funeral, unless they died in it. ❜

❛ Nobody knows they're the fall guy until they're falling.❜

❛ Women are the natural leaders of the species. Ancient Egypt had it right. ❜

❛ Okay, just because the door's open doesn't necessarily guarantee you a seat at the table. ❜

❛ You're not who I thought you were. ❜

❛ I really didn't want to think it, but...you're all fucking monsters. ❜

❛ Watching you shit on your principles would have been worth every fucking penny. ❜

❛ The mind of guilt is full of scorpions. And I wouldn't wish their sting on anyone. ❜

❛ Don't have to be smart to be dangerous. I'm not scared of rattlesnakes 'cause they're so smart. ❜

❛ You're so out of touch with your human side...you can't even listen to anything outside your own head. ❜

❛ I haven't seen you sleep in like...I mean, it's been a fucking long time. Like, horror movie long. ❜

❛ Life is insane. It is madness. The sooner you understand that, the better off you'll be. ❜

❛ The world might not be safe but listen to me, and listen carefully. I won't let anything happen to you. ❜

❛ All these terrible things and I thought, that's when people come together. But we've never been further apart. ❜

❛ Tell me it's worth it. Tell me you know the risk and I'll be there with you. I'll back you up. Just tell me. ❜

❛ Shut your mouth, get your shit together. The fuck is wrong with you? ❜

❛ Men, when they think they're immortal, all they want to do is fuck. When they figure out they're going to die, all they want to do is fuck. ❜

❛ It just makes you think, you know, life is so fucking short. ❜

❛ You don't have to be a tyrant, but if you don't want to be consistently cruel, then you have to be sufficiently brutal at least once to establish authority. ❜

❛ I thought it was an act. I figured you just played the housewife so you could keep a roof over your head. Spread your legs or suck his dick twice a week and you're set. You never have to work a day in your life. And I thought, "Good for her, she found her angle," but...this is really you. Isn't it? ❜

❛ Words got us into this, words can get us out. ❜

❛ You're a collection of impeccable, elaborate masks in orbit of a stunted heart. ❜

❛ There are certain things one shouldn't have to face in life. Time enough for self-reflection after. ❜

❛ I don't normally like to get my hands this dirty, but honey, you earned it. ❜

❛ I see you now. I look at you and I see... You. The poverty of you. ❜

❛ The real world is Darwinian. Survival, chaos, power. Leverage. ❜

❛ You feel it. In the air. We're sitting outside of time and space. ❜

❛ This is the moment luck meets opportunity. ❜

❛ In the ancient world, we'd seal this with blood, or spit. And then later, papyrus. But, a deal's a deal all over the world. ❜

❛ We're a... virus, I think. People, I mean. ❜

❛ But everyone loves something. And in that love there's collateral. ❜

❛ I say this with love. Let it go. Let it all go. ❜

❛ So I say, we stand tall and proud. Bill's come due. Let's not hide here in the basement like we've got something to be ashamed of. No. Not us. You and me against the world. ❜

❛ It may not have been perfect, but you can't say we didn't change the world. How many people can say that at the end? ❜

❛ I knew I would climb to the top of the tower on a pile of corpses. ❜

❛ It don't matter in the end why you did any of it. I don't fucking care why you did it. We don't want your confession, or your rationale, or your explanation. ❜

#a condensed version of the previous two #rp meme #rp prompt #sentence starters #sentence meme #roleplay prompts #roleplay meme #inbox memes #*tv #*tfothou

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lixiesfreckless · 2 months

Text

Deep | l. m.

part two: Deeper

➸ synopsis: you should not be here. not in this car, not at this hour, not again,

and especially not with him.

➸ starring: lee minho x female reader(ft. a mention of another skz member)

➸ word count: 1.2k

➸ general content: ex bf!minho, reader knows what a moral compass is and doesn't use it, they're both enablers in the worst way, toxic is the understatement of the century, car sex, angst, minho is a dirty talker lmaooooo

➸ warnings: swearing, cheating, sexual content

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: I feel like I have to preface this fic by saying that cheating is never okay. in no way am I trying to glamourize it, I just like writing stories about messed up characters sometimes. that being said THIS FIC IS SO MESSED UP IDK HOW I WROTE THIS TWO YEARS AGO WITHOUT BATTING AN EYE like I fr pumped this out in a day and was like "I'm just a girl" yeah one that needs to be put into a straitjacket, tf?

♫ deep- summer walker, 너와- jaymin

The tow truck pulls out of the parking garage, trailing your lifeless hunk of metal behind it as Minho turns to you, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Thanks for…coming out to help me so late,” you mumble, hands busying themselves with your jacket sleeves as your eyes watch the concrete. He hums, not trying to draw out the already tense atmosphere. He knows better.

He knows why you’re so stiff.

You two situate yourselves into his car, and he’s asking something about how long your car will be in the shop, but you barely register it. Three days, you feel yourself say, but you don’t really know.

You don’t really care either.

“Who’s going to drive you to work until then?” He turns in his seat to face you. A small part of you wishes he hadn’t.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.” You force yourself to not meet his piercing gaze, and thankfully he sighs, looking out the windshield.

“I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s already on my way to work, and I already know your schedule,” he states calmly, ignoring the way your eyes flicker to his lips. “It’s nothing, really.”

You know you can’t change his mind, and you also don’t want to, so you press your lips together, not-so-unintentionally wetting them as you did so.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

There’s a faint hum in the car. Minho hasn’t clicked it into gear yet. There’s a little red symbol blinking on his dashboard and you figure he’s overdue for an oil change. Someone is walking out to a dumpster a ways away from his car, and your ears barely pick up the way the lid slams when the worker carelessly lets it drop. Minho is mindlessly rubbing the leather on the steering wheel. He doesn’t normally do that.

You thought those details would be enough to distract you.

But it’s never enough.

Nothing is ever enough if it’s not Lee Minho.

He lets out a small breath of air, and you can see the frustration in his eyes as he quickly checks the surroundings. The small voice in your head screams at you, because you know you shouldn't be here like this, but he turns back to you and squanders the remaining sanity in your brain as he leans into your face.

And it’s hot and desperate and fast, the way your lips move against each other, the way your hands fist in his hair and grab at his collar, the way one too many curse words slip out of his mouth; but there’s no time to think about that, not when his hands are on you, igniting a fire that you’ve tried to put out time and time again.

And it’s dizzying, the way he tears himself away from you after a few seconds of sinful bliss, because the guilt rocks your entire body like a boat caught in a summer storm, and you’re not used to dealing with the consequences of your actions this soon.

“We can’t,” he pants, “we can’t keep doing this.”

You stare at him, shirt slightly crushed where you had gripped him from earlier and hair an absolute mess, and despite how enticing as he looks you nod, because he’s right.

You can’t.

Unfortunately you’re a pair of liars.

And it’s not even you who pulls the other back in, how ironic.

You take it upon yourself to move into a more comfortable position, one that lands on his lap, and he exercises his restraint for a few moments more before his hands land on your hips, helping you move faster over the gear shift.

Maybe you’re moving too fast but you can’t help it, his hips are positioned under yours just right and it’s not long before you’re grinding down against him. You expect him to hold you off of him and call it quits, not groan into your mouth and hold you closer like he’s doing now, and it takes every fiber in your body not to whimper back into his lips.

Your jacket disappears in the wake of his desperation, and there’s finally more skin-on-skin contact between you two. His fingertips burn with the knowledge that what’s happening is far from right, but the fire building inside you makes it feel like heaven, makes him feel like heaven, and you long for his fingertips to run under your shirt, where they definitely do not belong.

And they do.

So yours work their way to the hem of his jeans, tired of the leather that’s holding them together, and he breaks the kiss, hopefully to tell you to stop.

What he says next, unfortunately, doesn't surprise you.

“We need to stop getting ourselves into this situation.”

You look up from his belt, watching as the shame glosses over his eyes and you nod, feeling a pang of guilt rise in your stomach.

But the need between your thighs temporarily stalls the negative emotion, and before you can apologize for letting the situation escalate this far again, he’s the one undoing his belt.

At least you’re not the only one at fault here.

And the pressure between your thighs is finally satisfied as he lets you ride him, lips sucking on your neck hard enough to make you gasp but not hard enough to leave marks. For obvious reasons.

“Fuck baby,” he halts his trail of neck kisses, “if you were gonna take my cock this well you should have called me earlier.”

You wish hearing him say that didn’t make you feel so good.

He meets you halfway in slow, lazy thrusts, which makes you feel every ridge of him through the latex separating you two, and suddenly you’re crushing the fabric at his shoulders now too.

“You like that huh?” With the way you clench around him, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation, but he edges it out of you regardless. “You like when I fuck you like that?”

“Yes-”

“Yes what?”

“Y-Yes Minho.”

“That’s my girl.”

Oh, how that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

You whisper something about wanting him to go harder, faster, and he’s compliant, seemingly not in the mood to tease you. Or maybe, judging from the way he was gripping you, he was just close.

The glass is fogging up.

There is a foreseeable end in sight, and you feel relieved, after weeks of not having any sort of real release. To be fair, last time was supposed to be the last time. As well as the time before that.

And the time before that.

But you chase away the guilt creeping up again with your own fingers, rubbing away at your clit with a determination that even Minho doesn’t have chasing his own high.

He knows how badly you need it though, so he slams up into you the same way that made you finish the last time.

Suppose there’s no such thing as a good time when there’s nothing good about what you’re doing.

Which is why although you want to, you shouldn’t complain about a ringtone slicing through the humid atmosphere of the car.

Both of your hips come to a halt, and it takes a moment for your brain to recognize the ringtone to see if the call is urgent.

It is.

And the high that you were close to reaching comes plummeting to the ground as soon as you read the caller ID.

Incoming call… Jeongin <3

#sorry to everyone that reads this #skz #skz fanfic #stray kids #skz smut #lee minho #lee minho smut #stray kids fanfiction #lee know #lee know smut #stray kids fic #skz fanfiction #skz fic #stray kids fanfic

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mirisss · 8 months

Text

Fated To Feel

Part 2 of Fated No More

Enhypen OT7 x afab! reader

Wordcount ≈ 4k.

Warnings: talk of depression, angst, manipulation, cheating, slight sexual innuendo, sleep deprivation, panic attack, I think that’s it, let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Summary: After (Y/n) moved away her soulmate marks began fading while Enhypen was being punished for their actions by experiencing constant itchiness from their marks. Will (Y/n) find someone else? Will Enhypen realize their mistake? Can they be reunited? And most importantly, can (Y/n) forgive Enhypen for everything they said and did?

Because of popular demand, here is part 2 of Fated No More. Thank you for all the support on part 1, I hope you will like this one too. Fated No More is one of my personal favorites so I’m very happy to see so much positive response to the story.

I jump around a bit in the timeline so it might be a little confusing but I hope it makes sense.

There will be a third part as well, but I felt like this was getting quite long so I decided to split it up. So this turned into a mini-series, hope you like it!

Perhaps fate was punishing them for the way they acted toward (Y/n), the truth might never be known, but the thing that is certain is that they are fated no more.

Third Person POV

As Enhypen left (Y/n) in the HYBE building they didn’t care about the possible consequences that would follow as they all were too in love with (name). As they arrived home, they told (name) of what had happened and that (Y/n) said she would leave them alone from now on. (name) was very satisfied with this, she knew Enhypen wouldn’t leave her now that they had rejected their true soulmate. (name) had found her true soulmate not too long after Jake mistook her for their soulmate, at first she was going to leave them but then she realized that if she stayed with Enhypen she could get money from them and she wouldn’t have to work. And with their packed schedule, she could spend plenty of time with her true soulmate while the boys were working. Her true soulmate agreed to the plan as they figured some extra easy money wouldn’t hurt. (name) always feared that the boys would leave her if they found their true soulmate but now she had proof that they wouldn’t, that they couldn’t. All she had to do now was make sure they didn’t find out about her true soulmate whom she said she had rejected for them.

It was a shortlived victory though, as only a month after rejecting (Y/n), Sunghoon had left their practice earlier than planned due to feeling a bit unwell, and as he came home, he was expecting to find (name) in front of the TV watching the drama she was currently obsessed with, only to find her in bed with another man. (name) was freaking out and didn’t know how to handle the situation, screaming at her soulmate to get out. Sunghoon quickly called the others telling them they needed to come home ASAP. (name) told them parts of the truth, leaving out the bits of her only really being with them for the money. All of the boys told her to pack her things and leave. They couldn’t believe that she would hurt them like that. Soon Enhypen found themselves thinking over everything that happened and they began mourning the loss of (Y/n). Their true soulmate.

“We really hurt her, what we did was worse than what (name) did to us,” Jay said as they all sat on the floor with tears running down their cheeks. The more they thought of (Y/n) the more their soulmate marks itched and burned. “We were idiots, it was obvious (name) was only using us. She never struggled being away from us even when we had to go overseas without her. Even if she wasn’t our soulmate she should have hurt a little if she truly loved us,” Jungwon said before he tried wiping away his tears. “Do you think we can get (Y/n) back?” “I don’t know Riki, She left HYBE and we don’t have any way of contacting her,” Sunoo answered. “Not to even mention the low possibility of her forgiving us for everything we said and did,” Heesung added. “Please Fate, give us a second chance, so we can at least apologize to (Y/n),” Jake said, soon after the seven boys got up from the floor and began cleaning their entire apartment. Throwing away anything that reminded them of (name), once they were done they realized that half the things they owned reminded them of her so they disregarded it all. They made a promise to themselves and to fate that if they got the chance to see (Y/n) again, they would apologize and do everything they could to make it up to her, even if that meant spending the rest of their lives saying sorry.

* Time skip *

(Y/n)’s POV

It’s been two years since I left South Korea and left my soulmates behind. Every once in a while I stand in front of my mirror searching for the marks, hoping to find a new one, praying that fate had blessed me with a second chance soulmate. When I do this I only ever feel a stabbing pain in my heart, reminding me of everything Enhypen said to me. Their words tainted my world into a darkness I can’t even describe. I began believing that they had done the right thing, that I wasn’t worthy of being loved. Moa however reminded me constantly that I was worthy of love and that it was the boys who weren’t because of what they had done. I often wondered if everything would have been different had I met them first. Was that the only reason they chose her, (name), over me? Would they have loved me if she had never met them? Or were they just incapable of loving me?

“(Y/n)? Hello? Earth to (Y/n)?” “Huh? Oh, sorry, Moa, what’s up?” “You’re thinking of them again, aren’t you?” I let out a sigh before covering my face with one of my hands. “Yeah, I try not to but every once in a while, my mind wanders back to them,” “I get it, or, I don’t, but I know that I think of my soulmate so many times each day it’s normal to do so, even more so for you because of what happened,” “I know, I just keep wondering over what would have happened had I met them before (name),” “Things would probably be very different but we will never know because this is the reality we live in, I know it hurts, but maybe you can find someone who has lost their soulmate and find love with that person,” “Yeah, maybe, I don’t know, let’s talk about something else, I’m already depressed don’t need to make it worse,” “Mm, right, that’s why I originally came in here, we’ve been invited to Jaehyun’s wedding!” “No way, Jaehyun’s getting married?” “Yeah, can you believe that he’s getting married before me? He used to be such a douchebag, and now he’s like everyone’s dream guy,” “I guess he grew up, maybe pouring that smoothie over his head when he insulted you helped him realize that he should change,” “Ooh, I remember when you did that, he was so angry with you first but then he was following you like a lost puppy, being all ‘(Y/n), my sweetie,’ he totally fell in love with you,” “I guess he did. When’s the wedding? And where?” “It’s in six months, and it’s in Seoul. Do you feel okay with going? If not, we’ll just send him a really good gift,” “No, let’s go. I miss Seoul, we have so many friends there and I don’t want to let Enhypen keep me away from them,” “You go girl! YES! I’ll respond right away that we’re coming! Jae’s going to be so happy!” “Are you bringing Kyle too?” “Of course, I’m bringing Kyle, I have to show him off haha,” “Okay, if you respond to the invite I’ll look up a good hotel we can stay in and book two rooms, one for me and one for you and your lovely soulmate,” “Cheer up, (Y/n)! Who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone at the wedding!” “Yeah, maybe,” I gave Moa a small smile, the slight burn in my heart spiking up at the thought of love.

Sometimes living with Moa and her soulmate Kyle was difficult as I knew I could never have what they have. I remember the fight Moa had with Kyle when they first met and he didn’t understand why I had to live with Moa, thus meaning, he now had to live with me. Moa said that either he accepts it or he can walk away because I mean so much more to her than he ever could. I told Moa that she didn’t have to do that and that I would be fine moving to an apartment close by, but Moa didn’t want that, worried I would fall deeper into my depression if she wasn’t by my side. Now months later, Kyle and I are good friends and he understands the situation after hearing what happened to me. Seeing the way they act around each other and hearing them talk of one another, hurts because I wish I could experience that, but I know I never can, not truly, even if I would find someone some time. Of course, I’m so happy Moa found her soulmate and that he treats her well, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit jealous. I took a deep breath and went to my computer to find a good hotel, you can never book those things too early. Especially knowing Jaehyun, the dude knows everyone and their grandma so the hotels are about to be overbooked. I was really looking forward to seeing Jaehyun again, after the smoothie incident we became really good friends (even if he had feelings for me) and we stayed friends through everything. I never told him who my soulmates were, all I said was that it didn’t work out and fate or destiny made a mistake. He was sad to see Moa and I move away but we kept in contact and he was very supportive of our choice. I decided to send him a text even if Moa answered the invites, I wanted to assure him that I would come and it wasn’t Moa giving him false hope. *Hey Jae, it’s been a while. Congratulations on the engagement! Of course, I am coming, how could I not? I just might have to throw another smoothie at you if you don’t behave. Looking forward to seeing you,* In his response he let me know how happy he was that I would come and so was his soulmate. I took another deep breath, let’s go back to Seoul where my whole world collapsed 2 years ago.

Third Person POV (same time as (Y/n) received the wedding invite)

After coming home from a concert, the Enhypen boys were met with seven cute envelopes in their mailbox. They opened them to find invites to their good friend Jaehyun’s wedding. “Wah! Jaehyun is getting married! That’s crazy!” “We have to go! It’s in six months so if we tell our manager tomorrow we can make sure our schedule stays free for that day,” “It’s going to be so much fun!” The seven boys were ecstatic and couldn’t wait as they hadn’t seen their friend in a while. No one said it, but they all thought the same thing: This could have been us and (Y/n) if only we hadn’t messed up. They still lived with the constant itchiness of their soulmate marks and every once in a while, their marks would burn, a reminder of their actions. Sometimes they wondered if (Y/n) also lived with this discomfort or if it truly was a punishment that only affected them. They hoped (Y/n) didn’t have to go through it as they felt they had hurt her enough as it was.

* 6 months later, the day before the wedding *

(Y/n)’s POV

Moa, Kyle, and I had been flying for a couple of hours but we finally arrived in South Korea. My back felt quite sore from the flight and I was very tired so I couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and just lay down in bed and sleep. “WAHH! We’re finally back!” Moa was loud and cheery as ever, I swear, the girl can’t be sad. “Come on, let’s get a taxi to the hotel. I’m dying to get some sleep,” Moa just smiled and nodded, Kyle offered to carry my bag for me saying ‘You look like you’re gonna lay down on the floor and sleep here if we don’t get going,’ I mean I definitely look like a zombie, the last few days have been nerve-wrecking as I was a bit anxious of going back here so I haven’t gotten that much sleep. Finally, we arrived at the hotel, not a second too early. We checked in and got our separate rooms, a smaller one for me and a larger one for the couple. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, good night,” “Night night, (Y/n)! Don’t forget, breakfast at 8 tomorrow, we have to leave at 2 pm to get to the ceremony in time,” “I won’t, night night,” I went inside, changed into my pajamas, and then laid down in the bed, I remember setting an alarm on my phone but after that, I was out like a light.

Third Person POV

The Enhypen members didn’t have to stay at a hotel as the wedding was held close enough for them to just head to their apartment once the wedding and party were over. The morning of the wedding, they all woke up and began preparing everything they needed. They were meeting up with Jaehyun a little earlier than most guests as Jaehyun had asked them to sing a song or two so they were heading over for a soundcheck and to check when they were supposed to sing. “Jaehyun! My man! Congratulations!” “Heesung! Guys! Nice to see you, it’s been too long since last,” The friends caught up a little for a while but at the same time helped Jaehyun around the venue. Jaehyun was a bit nervous but Enhypen assured him that Yujin wouldn’t get cold feet. “Thank you guys for doing this! Yujin is such a fan, she’s going to freak out seeing you here and then you sing a song I wrote for her,” “No worries man, the song you wrote is so good. It’s an honor being allowed to sing it,” And so they continued with the preparations before Enhypen headed into a room where they could change clothes and get ready before the rest of the guests arrived.

(Y/n)’s POV

I woke up in time, changed into some comfortable clothes, and went outside my room to meet up with Moa and Kyle, once we located one another we went down to eat breakfast. Once we had finished eating we went back to our separate rooms to shower and get ready for the wedding, Kyle called and booked a taxi for us that would arrive at 1.45 pm. The dress I had chosen was a beautiful (insert color of choice) long sleeve, it was the type of dress I had dreamt of wearing to a homecoming or something like this as a child. I almost dared say I felt like a Dinsey princess in it. I fixed my hair and did some makeup. I hadn’t shown Moa my dress because I wanted it to be a surprise, I knew she would be proud of me for slowly going back to the me I was before the rejection. We decided to meet down by the taxi so when the time came I went down to the entrance and saw that Moa and Kyle had made it out before me. When Moa turned to the doors of the hotel and saw me, her jaw dropped before she quite literally shook with how happy she was and how much she was squealing. “(Y/n)! OMG, YOU LOOK SO GOOD I THINK I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” “Thanks, Moa, you look really beautiful, That pink looks so good on you, oh, and on you too Kyle,” “Thank you, you look really good (Y/n), mostly because you’re finally smiling,” I hadn’t realized how much I was genuinely smiling until Kyle pointed it out to me. “Thanks,” And then we got in the taxi, heading over to the wedding venue.

About an hour later we arrived at the wedding which was beautifully decorated even on the outside. This definitely fits the theme of the invite. Because of the long sleeves on my dress, I didn’t notice my soulmate marks slightly becoming more visible once again, alerting me of my soulmates’ presences. We walked inside and were greeted by flowers and a large room packed with people. I couldn’t even guess how many people were attending but from how packed the room was I guess closer to 300 or perhaps even more. I wasn’t kidding when I said that Jaehyun knows everyone and their grandma. While we had a little look around we ended up running into Jaehyun who enveloped all three of us in a hug expressing his happiness over us attending, The meeting was short-lived though as he had to rush to look at the final details. After a couple of minutes, we found three seats beside each other on the groom’s side of the venue and sat down, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

All too soon the beautiful ceremony itself was over and it was time to begin the festive part of it with dinner and dancing all through the night. As the first dance was to begin, Jaehyun took a microphone and turned toward his bride, explaining that he had prepared a very special surprise just for her. He had written a song for her and some good friends of his would sing it while Jaehyun and Yujin shared their first dance. Everyone cheered as the lights were turned off, some footsteps and some clothes ruffling was all that was heard before the lights turned on. In the spotlight in the middle of the dance floor were Jaehyun and Yujin, they looked so beautiful. A slow but powerful ballad began playing as the couple began dancing, the voices singing were very beautiful, and they seemed almost familiar. The couple dancing was so beautiful together that I couldn’t move my eyes from them, the love between them was overflowing in the venue. The song that Jaehyun had written brought tears to my eyes as it described the fairy tale love he had found with Yujin. The song soon ended and everyone clapped as the couple kissed, shortly after the lights were turned back on and my eyes traveled around the venue searching for the owners of the voices that had just sung the love song. The second my eyes found the seven boys holding a mic each, my heart stopped beating, and my breath seemed to be caught in my throat.

Enhypen. No, this couldn’t be happening. Why were they here? I thought I was hallucinating so I looked down at my hands, pulling up the sleeves of my dress to reveal the initials P.J. and S.J. slowly becoming stronger and also more and more of a vibrant golden glow. Moa who had been standing beside must have seen and heard my reaction as I heard her gasp in surprise before she hugged me. “It’s okay, they probably haven’t seen you. Do you want to leave? We can go right now if you want to,” “I can’t breathe,” I felt like my chest was closing up. My whole body was trembling, my knees were getting weak. I was about to have a panic attack, that would surely just attract attention toward us. “Kyle, help me get her out of here now. Fast but without anyone noticing,” Kyle didn’t question it, instead he put an arm around me and began walking with me toward the doors. A few people asked us if we were okay, I tried to find my voice to say something but I couldn’t, fortunately, Kyle answered that I had eaten a little too much and needed some fresh air. With that, everyone moved out of our way. I was praying, hoping, that Enhypen hadn’t seen me nor felt me being there. If they had, they would probably scream at me again, thinking I was stalking them or something. How could I know that we had common friends? As soon as we got outside I managed to take a deep breath, my body was still trembling badly and my breathing was irregular but at least better than what it was inside the venue. “I’ll call a taxi, don’t worry, everything is okay,” “(Y/n), wait,”

Third person POV

As Jaeyun took the microphone to tell Yujin about the song he had written, the Enhypen members slowly got up from their table and picked up their mics. As the lights were shut off, they walked over to their position. They gave it their all, singing as if the words of the song would somehow reach (Y/n). They imagined (Y/n) standing in front of them, hearing them singing the heartfelt words as an apology to her. They were all wearing suits so their soulmate marks were all covered, so they, just like (Y/n), hadn’t noticed the glowing initials either. Once the song was over and the lights were turned back on, Sunoo had an inkling feeling to look up and toward the left, as he did, he felt his heartbeat picking up, without even seeing her face he knew it was (Y/n). He noticed that she seemed to feel sick and that an unknown man was wrapping his arm around her, leading her away. “Guys, (Y/n) is here, but she’s leaving,” The others looked up and frantically looked around, searching for the girl. “Come on, we have to go after her, This might be our only chance to apologize,” Sunghoon said and the others agreed, and so they hurried to get out of the venue. A lot of people were hindering them as they wanted to speak to the singers but Enhypen only said that they unfortunately didn’t have the time to speak right now. They rushed out of the doors to find the unknown man embracing (Y/n) in a hug. Their hearts sank. Had she found someone else?

“(Y/n)! Wait!” Niki couldn’t help but shout out, hoping the girl wouldn’t leave without speaking to them. (Y/n) looked toward them after Niki’s exclamation, taking note of them being alone, (name) wasn’t with them. Perhaps, she was still inside. “(Y/n), do you want us to go further away?” Kyle asked, (Y/n) was frozen. She looked at Enhypen, their faces were filled with regret and sadness, they looked very different from how they looked the last time she saw them. They looked softer now, perhaps because now their eyes weren’t filled with disgust as they looked at her. “(Y/n)?” Kyle tried again, but yet again, he was left without a response. “(Y/n), please, can we talk?” Jay tried asking, hoping she would say yes.

~ To be continued ~

Please reblog!

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blackcranio · 1 month

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I think Cale-nim is actually an op character, he was a team leader of the attack team with zero mortality rate, one of the requirement to be a team leader of the attack team is to be able to fight at the front line and he does just that. Man has abilities that can cheat time and space and that abilities are intact when he transmigrated into Cale body. He is an op character alright.

The only reason he coughed blood left and right is because he was transmigrated into a weakass body with a weakass and fragile glass plate. Plus the ‘Slacker doesn’t exercise’ mindset, man really got it coming for himself.

His plans and strategies are impeccable, and sacrifice himself was never part of the plans. The things he do is actually something he know he is capable of doing, the consequences aside, and he usually act because other is too slow to act (to slow to figure out what happened and thus can’t act appropriately). He do what he have to do and trust his friends and family to keep him save. Man never plans to died, at first because he can’t died but now? Now he got people to go back to and ‘living is the best’ told by a dead man and his beloved team leader lee soo hyuk, a motto he keeps to heart.

#lout of the count’s family #trash of the count's family #cale henituse #og kim rok soo

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asgardian--angels · 6 months

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I wanna bring us all back for a sec to 'You indestructible little fucker'

Because a lot of people got hung up on this line, thinking Izzy should have lived, that he survived multiple death attempts and this was the proof he's unkillable. But I really think this line does the exact opposite - it portends his death, and not just that, but his sendoff with Edward.

As I've mentioned before, Izzy is a real pirate in the real world. Throughout season 1 he did not subscribe to the 'muppet logic' of the Revenge crew, and continuing in season 2, his injuries don't miraculously heal like everyone else's, including Ed (whose injuries were fatal and should have left him with a cracked skull and brain damage at the very least). He bears his scars, as other real pirates do. As his character grows, develops, and comes to be welcomed into the community of the Revenge crew, we could say he is 'one foot in' when it comes to reaching muppethood. But figuratively, and quite literally, he can never have both feet in and complete that transformation. That lost leg is his tie to the real, bloody, and unfair world of pirating he belongs to.

Izzy didn't survive those other near-death situations because of muppet-logic. He had tenacity, and grit, and most importantly, skill. He wouldn't be able to shrug off yardies like Roach, or a sword to the gut like Ed - Stede's dream literally involves killing Izzy via stabbing. Izzy is the character that things stick to - he's grounded in reality, in the old ways of pirating that have now burnt to the ground.

When Ed calls him indestructible, it's not because Izzy can't die. It's because Ed sees Izzy as a universal constant in his life. Of course Izzy will get back up every time he falls down - no one gets the better of Israel Hands. And in that moment when Ed had gone well and truly off the rails, it's Izzy who reappears from certain death to rein him back in and save the crew. Ed counts on that back and forth, that other presence, always there - for better or for worse, it's stability, it's reliability, it's his normal. Whether or not Ricky was right when he said Izzy was the genius behind the operation, we know that Edward and Izzy together formed 'Blackbeard.' Ed thinks he can't kill Izzy in a way that matters - and he didn't ever kill Izzy himself, he left it to Frenchie and then later gave Izzy the pistol.

But that's where it circles back around to the finale. Ed couldn't fathom Izzy actually dying - he's indestructible. He doesn't know what he'd do without him. It leaves Ed in the vulnerable position of being on his own, figuratively - independent, with no one over his shoulder providing guidance, directing him, or nudging him to be one thing or another. But Izzy tells him, you're ready now. And he is. Izzy isn't invincible, and Edward doesn't need him, doesn't need to hide behind the cold, distant, impenetrable veneer of Blackbeard anymore.

If Izzy could have become a true muppet, he would have brushed off that bullet. But that's not who and what he is - not narratively, and not literally either - he himself says it; "Pirating? Well, this is a pirate ship, and I'm a pirate. So, yeah, I'm good with it." Edward is leaving pirating behind, but it's all Izzy's ever known and it's what he wants to continue being - a real pirate in the real world, and thus, one that faces real consequences and can't keep cheating death. It's a tragedy Ed needed to see, that sometimes, things don't turn out alright - not everyone sails off into the sunset. Some stay behind to run an inn, facing an uncertain but hopeful future with vulnerability and free will, which are both daunting for Edward. Others die a pirate's death - but not without imparting necessary wisdom first.

#ofmd #our flag means death #if i put this in the izzy hands tag i fear i'll be eaten alive so here it remains lmao

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taralen · 6 months

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🎆HOT TAKE: Jevil was never a sane or good person. His true nature was merely exposed by the "strange someone."

(A theory by an actual insane person.)

Although this is the first time I am addressing Jevil on this blog, I feel it is worth analyzing his character due to his parallel yet vastly different experiences to Spamton's. He is very interesting, and I like him for different reasons, but I can't deny that his actions make him less sympathetic as a person.

In-game, Seam, who was once friends with Jevil, describes him as having "gone mad" after talking to a "strange someone." Fans have taken this as a reliable narrative since it's coming from a presumably old but wise figure who was once close to Jevil. However, allow me to introduce these two concepts:

The Unreliable Narrator Perhaps within Toby's intentions, Seam is portrayed as an old yet wise figure, almost like a wizard. Just because a character appears to fulfill an archetype does not mean that the character is actually that archetype.

Cognitive Bias It is a well-known fact that people are willing to see the best in others who we consider to be friends, family, or lovers. Seam thinking Jevil had "gone mad" was likely due to Jevil never expressing his worst antisocial traits openly before talking to a "strange someone."

Seam also describes Jevil as always being into games, which surprises no one given his jester themes and design. Pranksters can be mean-spirited, and in the case of his implied interactions with Spamton, this is very evident. Spamton describes him as only being into "games," and how no matter what he did (even cheating), he could not beat him. This reference is never in-game, but we can still apply it to our understanding of Jevil's character since it was part of a canon Q&A. His implied coulrophobia and disdain for clowns can either be seen as a meta-commentary and joke about the Deltarune fandom's love for secret bosses or an excellent hint of how mean-spirited and unhinged Jevil really is. Someone doesn't develop a phobia from just one bad game unless that interaction was very uncomfortable to the point where it made Spamton feel threatened (possibly for his life). (Also, I am aware some people say they are exes. Given the lack of substantial evidence of this in-game or in the Q&A, I think it's safer to say that the "ketchup kids" part merely references a meme and shouldn't be considered anything substantial for analysis.)

Jevil was already showing signs of someone with antisocial traits, particularly among individuals with Cluster B personality disorders. He also falls under the category of Personality Type B (unrelated to Cluster B personality disorders) because of his lack of urgency. We can summarize him with these hallmark antisocial traits:

Lacking remorse for actions.

General dearth of empathy.

Grandiose Self-Worth (I CAN DO ANYTHING)

Need for stimulation and prone to boredom (which is why his solitary confinement was awful for him.)

Lying and manipulative (tricks the fun gang into breaking him out of jail only to try and kill them afterward. He doesn't even want Kris or Susie's souls. He just wants to have "fun.")

Lack of any long-term goals (he merely exists for games.)

Lack of value for other's lives (he finds the idea of murdering teenagers as an exciting game.)

Blasé attitude about life. Essentially, he is doing whatever the hell he wants without fear of consequences.

Notice the recurring theme of "games." In this case, a "game" to Jevil means whatever he wants it to mean. A game for him might mean torture for another person. His bullet patterns also exemplify this. They are aggressive, cluttered, and have (fittingly) chaotic patterns. Spamton's, by comparison, are structured and not as dense, showing his restrained need to kill the party to achieve his goals (particularly with Kris.) Also, notably, Jevil never considers the party "friends" by the end of the battle, regardless if you choose the ACT or FIGHT options of beating him. If you pick the ACT option, he goes dormant as a tail, but in the FIGHT version, he stays active as the Devilsknife and shows enthusiasm about being used as a weapon (presumably) to harm others.

And here's the kicker of all this: these traits are seldom learned but are inherent to some individuals, particularly those who fall closer to psychopathy than sociopathy.

Psychopaths have strong genetic predispositions, meaning they are born that way. While there are many psychopaths who never go on to become mass murderers, it takes a significant amount of social pressure and understanding for them to realize their actions will get them into trouble.

Prior to speaking to that "strange someone," Jevil was likely held back by his perceived notions of governance and law in the Card Kingdom. As the court jester, he probably believed he could express his desire to mess with others because of his assigned role. Being the "fool" of the court, he must have made the Card Kings laugh at his expense, and for most of his existence, he was probably okay with this since jesters, in our reality, were known to make some pretty nasty jokes about royals only for it to all be laughed off. Playing games with Seam was just an added bonus, and Seam likely saw good in him that no one else did. However, Jevil learned that he could do whatever the hell he wanted with (perceived) zero consequences, and he ran with it.

Any goodwill he had with Seam or the Card Kings was dropped the instant he knew he could do anything he desired. This is not behavior from someone who is even remotely sane. The "strange someone" told him what he wanted to hear. Now, the jokes were no longer just jokes. Seam mentions Jevil saying things that don't make sense, but there is a shadow of doubt that this is the only reason he was locked away. Considering his interactions with the main party, he may have attempted to kill the Card Kings, hence why he was imprisoned by Seam, the only person, as Court Magician, who could match his strength.

This ties back to my initial arguments about Seam's unreliable narrative and cognitive bias. Seam saw Jevil as sane and playful, whereas the "strange someone" knew Jevil wanted to unleash his inner thirst for more dangerous games. These needs were always there, he just needed someone to tell him he could do them.

☠️

This is a bit of an aside, but I recommend anyone who likes Jevil to read Edgar Allan Poe's short story, Hop-Frog. It's about a diminutive jester whose attitude closely mirrors Jevil's, only without a Seam to hold that jester back. Honestly, Hop-Frog was the first thing that popped into my head after beating Jevil. It's definitely worth a read (or listen if you can't read it.)

Like with my Spamton sanity theory, I hope my Jevil analysis and insight as someone with life-long mental health problems can help others see this character in a way that may be enlightening or interesting.

💜

#deltarune #deltarune analysis #deltarune theory #deltarune chapter 1 #jevil #mental instability #mental illness

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antianakin · 3 months

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Maybe it's my personal bias, but a dark Ahsoka trying to get back in to the WBW because the whole mess from Anakin and then never actually processing her feelings, grief, anger etc leading her to thinking she can "fix" everything by "saving" Anakin. Not really thinking of the repercussions.

And have it be that she isn't trying to change the timeline for selfless reasons, but because she wants Anakin back. That misplaced sort of blame that comes when you over idolize someone. It was only Palpatine's fault, she tries to believe, Anakin wouldn't have done this all unprompted.

In trying to get back to the WBW having her actually process her emotions and the events and realize she's putting herself and her former master on pedestals to cope. Gradually working on herself.

Or not. Idk having Ahsoka unhealthily cope with grief in a way almost paralleling Anakin (trying to cheat death for Padme and failing anyway) sounds cool to me. Or maybe I'm just exhausted.

This would certainly make a real cool AU! The one thing making me hesitate is that she explicitly says while in the WBW in Rebels that Ezra can't save his master just like she can't save hers and never shows any real inclination towards trying to use it to save Anakin. So if you went with this concept, you'd have to figure out why she changed her mind on it or you'd just have to pretend like that moment didn't happen.

But in general I think that the idea really works! Like, I wouldn't want her to actually MAKE IT to the WBW or anything, I don't want any weird time travel shenanigans for her to mess with, but I think the idea of her TRYING to get back to it so she can fix Anakin, or fix what she did wrong or something could be a really interesting goal for her to have throughout a season where she's dealing with her Anakin feelings. Especially if we assume she's slightly fucked up from Malachor and its Sith bullshit in addition to her regular emotional struggles.

And in the she has to give it up. Like maybe she finds a way to do it, a way to open one of those doors, but doing so would have some sort of consequence and she has to choose between her selfish desire to "save" Anakin and fix what she believes are her own mistakes, or keeping that particular consequence from happening. Maybe people she's grown close to over the course of the story will be killed or put at risk if she opens the door, and she has to let it go, let ANAKIN go, in order to protect them.

That version of Anakin is gone, he's dead, and the version of him that exists now is clearly unwilling to be saved, at least by her, and all she can do is accept that and move on. Let go of her guilt, let go of her fears, just... let go. MAYBE her choice to leave the Order spurred him down that path, but maybe it didn't. Maybe Anakin made his own choices based on things entirely unrelated to her. Maybe if she'd been there she could've helped him, but maybe she'd have just been killed with all the rest. She'll never know and she has to come to terms with that before she can move forward with her life. She might've left first, but Anakin left her, too, and he took everything else she loved with him when he did.

In an ideal world, this would lead Ahsoka to do a lot of reflecting on her past with Anakin as she tries to figure out how far back she'd have to go to "save" him and she realizes just how dark he already was when she knew him and ultimately realizes that HE WAS DARK WHEN SHE MET HIM. There were things that happened to him, things he'd probably already chosen to DO, long before she'd met him that were already taking him down the path to darkness, things she'll likely never know or understand. But it allows her to see Anakin so much more truthfully than she'd ever done before. No longer does she view Anakin through the rosy lens of childhood hero worship, she can see how often he struggled with his own darkness and the ways it impacted their relationship, the way it's continuing to impact her NOW.

There were good moments, and she'd loved him, but he was dark long before she knew him and that's something she HAS to accept about him if she's ever going to let him go. There were things Anakin did to her that weren't okay, there were things Anakin taught her that were wrong and caused her to start down her own darker path, and until she can recognize that Anakin FAILED HER, she'll never be able to find her way BACK. She'll never be a Jedi until she acknowledges this very important and vital truth about Anakin and her apprenticeship under him. He WASN'T a good master and he WASN'T a good Jedi. He was sometimes a good PERSON, but he'd ultimately decided to leave that behind, too. He wasn't the person she'd thought he was and unless she wants to become him, she has to acknowledge where he made mistakes so she can keep from making the same ones herself.

So yeah, I think this idea has a LOT of merit and could definitely be a very interesting path to take Ahsoka on!

#star wars #ahsoka tano #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical #anti anakin #anti anakin skywalker #god i hate ahsoka claiming he was a 'good master' in the ahsoka show #i think there is a difference between ahsoka acknowledging he had goodness in him and they had good MOMENTS #and ahsoka acting like he was genuinely a good MASTER #they aren't the same thing nor do they have to be #she DIDN'T know anakin #she DIDN'T understand him #and a lot of what anakin taught her is what has caused her the most pain #anakin's teachings are what ultimately led her on a path away from the jedi #anakin's teachings are what cause a rift between her and the jedi #personally i feel like instead of having ahsoka apparently thinking only negative things about anakin #and then having to decide no actually he was good #i would've had her go the OPPOSITE direction to follow up on her rebels personality #ahsoka REFUSES to accept the truth about anakin and wants to save him because she doesn't think he'd have ever chosen this #not without some kind of mind control #and on that path she has to recognize that actually anakin wasn't that perfect kind master she'd chosen to see him as #anakin had darkness and attachments and he struggled with it A LOT #and it was anakin's failure that left her floundering #and she'll only be a jedi herself when she can see anakin for WHO HE ACTUALLY WAS #he was selfish and he was greedy and he was irresponsible and insensitive and impatient #he was a bad teacher and until she can acknowledge that she'll always be walking a path AWAY from being a jedi

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hammyham-o-o · 3 months

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Hamilton or Burr, pick and choose

HAMILTON 100%

Get ready for an essay, guys (or just skip it lol but it's coming)

Ok, so first off, I don't hate Burr. I could never hate Burr. I don't think he's a villain, and I can empathize with the guy and see his point of view. But I'll always be a Hamilton defender, if I have to choose between them. I just LOVE HAMILTON. I love his energy, his spark, the way he'll always stand up for what he believes in no matter the consequences. To quote "your obedient servant", the way he always wears his opinion (and heart) on his sleeve. Something about Hamilton and Burr that I find really interesting is that they're so similar yet opposites; they want essentially the same things, but have very different ways of looking at life and accomplishing their goals. And at the end of the day, I side with Hamilton: "If you stand for nothing Burr, what will you fall for?"

tl;dr I don't hate either of them, but if I had to choose (cue election of 1800 iF yOu HaD tO cHoOsE), I'd choose Hamilton :)

ALSO: check out this meme lol

p.s. I am in no way excusing Hamilton cheating on Eliza with Maria, that was horrid and I hate that he did that. But I figure that if in the end ELIZA can forgive him, then so can I.

p.p.s I'm solidly talking about the musical characters guys, the real people were a *lot* worse lol

#hamilton #hamilton musical #alexander hamilton #aaron burr

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number5theboy · 2 years

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Something I find fascinating is that the show implies that Five was the odd one out among the children who Reginald did train, that he was one whose potential Reginald actually fostered but who he couldn't keep under control the way he did the other six.

Three seasons in, we have a pretty reasonable idea of what Reginald did to each of the children. Klaus and Ben were terrified of their powers and hated using them. Viktor was unaware of his, because Reginald kept him medicated and subdued. Diego was constantly being undermined and made to feel inferior to Luther, while Luther was both bolstered as a leader but also kept small and docile by Reginald through constant criticism. Allison used her powers to get away with things, using them indiscriminately to get what she wanted, and she remained content with that for a pretty long time, being the last one to leave the Academy, save for Luther. And Five was an arrogant child striving to push his power to new heights - he was not afraid of it, he relished what he could do and wanted to do more.

It seems like Five, different from the other children apart maybe from Allison, was not stifled in developing his powers, but instead was pushed by Reginald to develop both his powers and his mind, as he did need a substantial understanding of maths and physics to be able to apply them. Indications for this are littered throughout the seasons. Luther saying Five always thought himself better than them. The implication that Five would use his teleportation powers as much as possible as a kid. Reginald giving him five stars on his performance report. "Five cheated!" "He adapted." Reginald being fascinated first and foremost by Five's powers at the tiki bar. The implication that things got even worse in the household once Five had gotten lost.

The implication is very much there that Reginald treated Five differently, did not quite nip him in the bud like he did with most of his siblings, and once that had backfired spectacularly on him, he tightened the grip on the siblings that were left, making them even more miserable than they already were, a situation that spiraled further with Ben's death.

Reginald not keeping quite as tight a lid on Five led to Five being less afraid of him, more willing to openly rebel and defy him, a trait that keeps up all the way through the show. Letting Five's natural curiosity and thirst for knowledge develop what I assume to be reasonably uninhibited also meant that Five did not adhere to Reginald's authority as strongly, because he had an inherent trust in his own abilities that the other children did not have. And it went wrong for both Five and Reginald, with Five overestimating his own abilities and their long-term consequences and Reginald overestimating how obedient Five would be to him, and so Five got lost, never to come back in Reginald's lifetime.

For all intents and purposes, Five should have been Reginald's golden child. He is very powerful - which I think is the key reason of why Reginald treated him the way he did, someone who can control time and space can be useful in many different ways - and he had an inherent drive to explore and better his powers. But he never was, because Reginald could never really figure out how to fully control him. His influence is still stark, but Five is inherently unpredictable and adverse to authority. He genuinely rattles Reginald in every season at least once, and it's all because Reginald raised, as he so nicely put it, "an arrogant son of a bitch".

Just a small addendum about the comics, but this characterisation in the show is interesting to me especially because it is also in the comics, albeit in a much sharper way, like most things taken from the comics. There's the three attached pages from Dallas here below, which is genuinely one of my top three favourite scenes from the comics, it's so good and such clever foreshadowing while also nailing down the dynamic between Five and Reginald within just a few pages. In this passage from the final installment of Dallas, Reginald wants to present Five to brag to some fellow-minded rich dickheads, and Five sabotages it on purpose to embarrass him, and Reginald knows it. And it goes even further, with Gerard Way saying in an interview that Five is called Five because he called his father's bluff about the numbers, that he understood that they are meaningless and chose to adopt his number as a name rather than a rank. In the comics, there was a genuine power play between these two, and it'd be really fun if the show headed in that direction as well, I think it would be incredibly interesting to explore.

#tua s3 spoilers #my meta

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takemealivelh · 1 year

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you wanna wait till tonight? || l.h. (part two)

it’s 2018. after last night, luke and daisy deal with the consequences of their reckless and restless fucking. it all goes to shit when they hook up again.

tw: cheating. mild sexual content.

i know i promised this a while ago. i hope the wait was worth it.

part one

2.6k FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED

“can i have your number?”

“no.”

she leaves the hotel room with her shoes in her hands. legs too shaky to wear heels right now. fuck. that was hot. that was actually so fucking hot she can’t believe it happened only two minutes ago. she’s still trying to regulate her breathing. how can you treasure a moment in your memory in a way that you can experience the same body response every time over and over again? she waits for the elevator. alone. it’s 3:23 am and she needs to go to sleep. hadn’t intended to stay out so late, just a quick fuck to feel better about herself. but luke had been so relentless. for so long. and now she can’t wait to get a cab and go pass out on her bed.

luke lays on top of the white comforter, naked. he looks out the window and sees the empire state. what a gorgeous view. he can’t believe he didn’t get her number. alright, i’ll give you mine then. and now she has the upper hand. his stay in nyc doesn’t end for another three days. he hopes she calls. or texts. maybe he can ask around. someone from the crew must’ve brought her to the party. but who?

they both sleep, thinking about the other. the body heat and the moans in the room. it would’ve been cool if he’d gone down on her. he seems like he’d know what to do. why didn’t she give him her number? he really wants to see her again before flying back to la.

sun is shining through the window. it’s 8 am and his phone is going off. fuck quickly, luke picks up. “what?” he’s rather annoyed. “hey man,” michael sounds tired too. “car’s here in twenty. we’re having breakfast downstairs.” “right, right. give me five.”

what the fuck do i do with this number? she doesn’t want to just throw it away. but she can’t call him, can she? he’s a rockstar. it’s probably the number to a chinese place. and she can’t humiliate herself like that. not again. his name was sam. he was british and was playing gigs, trying to make it in america. she never really found out if he’d made it or not. she kinda just moved on really quickly. she only goes to bed with rockstars she’s not that familiar with. maybe she’s heard them on a spotify playlist. 5 seconds of summer was an intriguing name but she didn’t really explore much further into their discography other than that song youngblood and that killer queen cover from the freddie mercury biopic. they were good, and their set was tight. she saw the show from the last row of the left gallery. hypnotized by how whiny the frontman’s seemingly perfect voice sounded, she decided she was gonna fuck that rock god that night. and she did. it’s called manifesting.

after a quick shower, luke puts on pants when his phone rings again. he figures it’s another one of his bandmates, wondering where he is. it hasn’t even been that long, he rolls his eyes in silence. the ring insists and he checks the screen name. “hi love,” his voice is a little raspy and he clears his throat. “show was great. wish you were here,” he smiles into the sentence as he runs his fingers through his damp curls.

“where did you disappear to last night?” “uh... was just tired, really.” luke shrugs off the question and reaches for a tall glass of orange juice. no one says anything and he looks at the three of them as he drinks. they avoid eye contact with him, he notices. “you’re awfully quiet today.” it’s uncharacteristic of them to not be chaotic at every meal. luke sets the glass down, “what’s up?” “nothing man, we just thought this was, like, a guys trip,” michael starts complaining and shrugging his shoulders to show his disappointment. calum sets his fork down and pats his friend’s back, trying to comfort him as he looks at his other friend. the one who bailed on them last night. “now you’ve made mikey upset.” ”don’t call me that.” luke frowns, kind of not understanding what’s going on. they know he still fools around on tour, don’t they? this is the second encounter of the american leg. did they seriously not know? “you need to get your shit together, man.” ashton cleans his glasses on his shirt and puts them back on. he hates that luke does this. his girlfriend doesn’t deserve it but it’s not his place to tell her anything. so, he keeps his mouth shut around her. but it’s gonna be real fucking hard once they go back to la because luke has been a stupid motherfucker since the european leg of tour. ashton sighs. there’s a family having pancakes on the table next to them. the little boy makes a mess with the syrup. his mother wipes his face clean with a napkin while his father talks business on the phone. “we need to get going,” michael finally breaks the silence that’s been reigning for the past three minutes. “interview’s in an hour.”

12.14 pm breakfast has been on his head ever since. he wasn’t really concentrated in the questions the radio host was asking them. luke could only ask himself two things. why do they care? why hasn’t she texted? it hits him like a flash. the small talk they had in the cab on the way to the hotel. “you liked the show?” she nodded. “and i liked the way you move.” a small smirk on her lips, making him blush a little. “thank you guys. we’re off the air.” luke followed his bandmates out of the studio and into the dressing room. “you okay?” ashton pats his back. “yeah.” he checks his phone as michael gets a bottle of water from the mini fridge and the other two sit on the couch. why hasn’t she texted? it’s not like they’d had a meaningful connection, not really. it had been mind-blowing sex, of course. but that’s not enough to know someone, is it? did he learn anything about her as she sucked him off? he knows she’s daring, she’s spontaneous and confident. and he likes that. he also knows real life will eventually happen in a few days. but he just wants to stay in the fantasy a little longer. he’s been with his girlfriend for a year and things are hard between them. at least with daisy, this new york girl, things seemed to be easy. until she left. and now he’s wondering if he misinterpreted the whole thing. “hey, dude,” michael greets the crew guy that walks in with the new itinerary. he hands a copy to each band member. “did you have fun last night?” the guy shrugs his shoulders. “remember i told you i’d gotten a date outside the venue? well, she ditched me. probably left with someone else.” luke’s eyes burn the screen to avoid the man’s stare. did he steal his date? “shit,” calum pats the cigarette pack in his pocket. “was she the one who sang love is a battlefield at the bar afterwards?” “nah.” luke’s heart pounds in his ear. “she was wearing this over-the-top makeup. like, orange eyeshadow and shit.” he remembered that hue well. it was a glossy finish that glistened under the moonlight. he appreciated when she closed her eyes, because he could admire her freedom of expression. his stomach sinks. he feels so bad.

daisy gets back to work from lunch. she’s a broadcast technician in z100 new york radio. when she walks past the dressing rooms on her way to the studio, she hears a familiar voice. the door is half open and the sign reads 5 seconds of summer. “fuck,” she curses under her breath, picking up the pace and refusing to look inside. “hey layla,” she sets her bag on the chair next to the broadcast console. “is teddy done editing?” the other woman nods her head as she chews on gum. “he said he’d drop the script by on his way to lunch.” 12.45 pm “alright,” she sighs and runs a hand through her long, wavy, brown hair. sitting down in front of the mixer, she opens up the radio software and starts setting it up for the next transmission in fifteen minutes. “you should’ve come here earlier, though.” “why’s that?” “this band, 5sos they call it... like, those guys are fit as fuck. like damn.” daisy tries to fake a laugh, “did they leave already?” as soon as the words leave her mouth, teddy -a man in his fifties, and the producer of the show- walks in with a binder and hands it over to the girls “so, the frank ocean interview fell through. and rick called in sick, so we’re gonna just play singles for the rest of the day. you girls can go home if you want. i can take it from here.” bubblegum pops in layla’s mouth. “don’t have to tell me twice.” “oh, before i forget. daisy,” teddy points back to the dressing rooms. “luke is asking for you.” the woman frowns in confusion. layla widens her eyes as she looks at her co-worker. the man doesn’t seem to notice the awkwardness in her body, and so he leaves. “who’s luke?” “shut up.”

the door is half open and he sees her walk by. how couldn’t he when her boots made such a squeaky noise? he remembers that spongebob squarepants episode and he smiles, and then hates himself for it. she looks like a diamond, jeans and a green tank top. he wonders what her eye makeup looks like. he sits on the couch with ashton and calum. they don’t talk to him. haven’t uttered a work since teddy came by and luke asked about her. a knock on the door. the blond springs up in half a second. he clears his throat as michael rolls his eyes and brings his stare back to his phone. “uh, hi,” daisy’s voice is cautious when she peeks her head inside, immediately focusing on luke’s tired smile. his leather jacket makes his shoulders look ridiculously broad and she tries her best to keep the composure. if no one else was in the room, she probably would’ve jumped him. burying her hands on his perfect curls. their lips biting each other’s. the rest of the band eye her. she won’t come in and ashton immediately picks up the dynamic. she’s the girl. she’s the girl luke cheated on his girlfriend with. at least one of them. he’d interfere, but his friend looks like there are no thoughts in his brain. just the face of the girl in front of them. “the producer said you were asking for me?” “um, yeah.” he nods imperceptibly, feeling his hands go cold all of the sudden. the tension in the room is too much. the rest of the band hates him, he just wants that woman in a bed. wants that pretty blue on her eyelids to glisten. “can we talk outside? i wanted to ask you something about the interview.” worst excuse ever. “oh, okay.” her head disappears and luke walks out of the room. he stands close to her, close enough to smell her shampoo. she shoves her hands in her pockets and looks around. “you didn’t text.” daisy shrugs, “i didn’t think you’d show up at my work.” “i didn’t know either.” they fall silent for a few seconds before layla shows up with her purse in her hand. “you ready?” peeling her eyes off luke’s, daisy nods her head. “we gotta go,” she tells the man. “meeting,” she lies. “um... alright. can you... i mean, if you want we could... i mean, like...” layla looks up at her taller friend. she can tell the man wants her to himself. “actually, molly cancelled the meeting,” she chimes in, putting a hand on daisy’s shoulder. “this one’s free.” daisy calls layla a motherfucker in her head. “we have soundcheck for tonight’s show actually.” luke looks for daisy’s eyes. “i was wondering if you wanted to check it out.”

she’s not sure how she ends up in a car with him, but it doesn’t matter anyway. his hand is on her thigh, dangerously close to where she’s throbbing. she breaks a small sweat and looks out the window. luke wonders if he’s pushing it too far, and he’s about to remove his hand when daisy closes her eyes, rests her head on the back of the carseat and parts her legs a bit wider so luke can grab her flesh. a smirk on his lips. “calm down,” she chuckles, feeling his eyes burning her body. the man has electricity running through his veins. she’s a shot of adrenaline. a boost of serotonin and dopamine. every good drug he’s ever done, he’s as intoxicated with her, completely lucid. “i want to fuck you tonight,” he murmurs close to her ear. the driver doesn’t seem to listen to whatever the two are doing. daisy chuckles softly. that small laugh that makes her lips curve into a devastating smile. “you wanna wait till tonight?” she whispers back, looking at him through thick eyelashes and so much lustful energy. his knees are weak.

the band walks up onstage. ashton tries out the kick, calum plugs in his bass, michael adjusts his pedals and luke grabs the mic. he looks up at the balcony in front, daisy waves at him. the venue is a thousand-seats club in manhattan, and when she found out they were going to play at the irving plaza, she got even more excited. she’s always wanted to come here for a show. the place really is beautiful. “one, two... hello we’re 5 seconds of summer,” luke speaks into the microphone and the whole place resonates with his voice. “should we start with want you back?” he asks his bandmates. none of them says a word, but ashton nods and counts a one two three four with his drumsticks. can't help but wondering if this is the last time that I'll see your face? luke’s eyes focus on daisy and he sings those first two lines as if they were directed at her.

it’s all kissing and grinding against the wall of the bathroom. they’d locked it. there are no words in the air, just the faint sound of their heavy breathing. lips on lips on skin on lips. he doesn’t wanna talk, just needs to eat her whole. it’s the only thing that keeps his racing mind shut down. the whole thing with the band, it guilt-tripped him. the judgy looks and the ambiguous sarcasms they’d given him, it all fades to nothing when he is as intoxicated by her lips and her skin and the way she drags him closer by his shirt. daisy can’t help it, she knows he’s leaving and this might be a bad idea, because she can’t get attached to someone so good leaving so soon. but his hot breath against her neck before he licks the spot that makes her skin bristle, they have her stupid. just the thought of how big he is against her leg. she reaches down to palm it and luke moans a bit louder in her ear. “you like this?” she whispers, feeling his thigh tightening against her core. she’s wet. and the natural lubricant makes it easier to roll her pelvis against his pants. it’s hot. it’s wrong. it’s a forbidden passion. none of them want to stop. because if they do, they’ll know they’re fucking up. and why feel shitty when you can feel this good?

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings fanfic #5sos smut #i don't have a tag list D':

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theavatarandthefirelord · 4 months

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zukaang for the ask game

Thanks for the ask, anon! Also you made my day because I rbed the ask game (both here and on @chocomd) really really hoping that someone would ask me about Zukaang 😂

001 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

when I started shipping it if I did:

I'm pretty new to the Zukaang ship, but I've loved their relationship ever since I first watched ATLA in 2021. Then I got into fandom mostly for Kataang, but Zukaang always pulled at me. After a while I could see Aang and Zuko together romantically, but I never quite shipped them...until I started writing Zukaang into fic. The first time was in a Kataang fic, when they were so close (but still only friends) that people mistook them for a couple. And then last month I wrote a short fic, Nebulous Roads, that actually WAS romantic Zukaang...and yeah I became obsessed. It's like I've been peering over the edge at Zukaang for the longest time and someone finally pushed me in 😂

my thoughts:

Every enemies-to-lovers ship wants what Zukaang has!!! I'm not even talking about the infamous z.tara...I'm talking any ship, any fandom. Narrative foils who are uniquely isolated in their lonely destinies, connected to each other spiritually, antagonists even in their past lives, destined to meet again as enemies only to heal the world as friends, each one bearing scars that carry such emotional baggage, they give each other hope even while they're enemies, the way they are perfectly yin and yang...ugh I could go on.

So I find a lot of enemies-to-lovers ships not very compelling because the "enemies" part is either watered down or they hate each other so much that the ship isn't convincing (to me), plus I need more than chemistry to ship a pair. But Aang and Zuko were truly enemies and the animosity between them wasn't watered down (Zuko sincerely did try to harm or kill Aang lmao), but they grew to see each other as something more and were actually drawn to each other, and their path to becoming friends in canon is done so amazingly well. And while some of their romantic tension comes from their chemistry as antagonists, it's WAY more than just "argue/fight then kiss because I think you're hot." Anyway, enemies-to-lovers generally isn't my thing, but wow does it work for Zukaang!

What makes me happy about them:

The healing that Aang and Zuko find in each other. The rupture between them started with Roku and Sozin and with the Fire Nation wiping out the Air Nomads, and ends with Aang and Zuko finally closing that rift and bringing peace to the world together. Plus all of the trauma they both went through in their own lives mirrors the other like yin and yang mirror each other (and yet they each possess a piece of the other), and the way they find healing in each other makes my heart ache in the best way 🥺

What makes me sad about them:

That it's challenging for them to openly be together in the canon ATLA world (which I am very attached to since the canon story is what drew me into the fandom in the first place). Even if Kataang and Maiko didn't exist, there would be major political consequences if the post-war world found out that the Avatar and the Fire Lord were in a relationship. Plus there's the fact that Zuko needs to continue his family line, and Aang would need to find a way to bring back the airbenders (although I can see him giving up that particular task to the universe to figure out). I'm also very attached to Kataang, my other ATLA otp, and I don't love the idea of cheating in either relationship, so a world where both Kataang and Zukaang might exist would be very complicated...although I do have a solid idea for a fic that includes both ships (and it's not Zutaraang lol).

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

Not something that annoys me exactly, but a lot of fics seem to focus on Aang being there for Zuko's needs, and less so the other way around. And I get that, because Zuko is kind of a mess lmao. But Aang is human before he is anything else, and he has suffered both emotional isolation and unimaginable loss. Relationships aren't transactional, but I have a hard time seeing Aang in a romantic relationship with someone unless his own emotional needs are met as well - and I would love to see more of this in fic!

things I look for in fanfic:

I love fics that explore Aang and Zuko's connection in a way that pulls on the things that make Zukaang...Zukaang. I love their intensity, their tenderness, the history between them that stretches from the present and all the way back into the past one hundred years, how they can't stay away from each other even if they tried.

I also love fics that aren't afraid to explore the things that make their relationship complicated. What does it mean for the Avatar, the last airbender, to be in a relationship with the Fire Lord, the scion of the dynasty that committed the Air Nomad genocide and started a worldwide war? This would make for a lovely political and social mess, at the very least. And what about the fact that Zuko was indirectly involved in Aang's death in CoD and sent an assassin after him to make sure he stayed dead? There's so much to explore even with this point alone - how would the past haunt them while they're still figuring out their relationship? Or even when they've been together for years? (Btw I'm firmly in the camp that Zuko really was That Bad because his character needs that for his redemption and for the ATLA story to work.)

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Aang with Katara; Zuko with Mai (or Jet, though it probably wouldn't last lol)

My happily ever after for them:

Hmmm...for those who know my taste in stories and fic, I am very ok with not having a happy ending and sometimes that's what I prefer. HOWEVER. My happy ending for Zukaang is that their relationship in the canon ATLA world would be complicated and they can't fully be together (because we're following canon here). But after they both die, they are reincarnated, and 1000 years later they find each other again - not as the Avatar and the Fire Lord, but as two people without such heavy expectations riding on their shoulders, who can freely share their lives together at last. (This is happy I guess? But sad before it gets happy? 😅)

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

They would take turns being the big spoon! I ship them when they're older, so Aang is a little taller and loves being the cuddler. Sometimes it's Zuko, especially when he just wants the reassurance of holding Aang in his arms 🥺

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

They would get into some silly shenanigans 😂 Like riding an air scooter together with their eyes covered or have dumb contests like "bet you can't do this without bending" lmaooo

send me an ask about a ship or character, or 5 characters you want me to rank!

#ask game #anon ask #chocomd answers #zukaang #I did not mean for this get so long lmao #too many thoughts I guess 😅#zukaang thoughts

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rhondafromhr · 8 days

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Another Max and Steph roleswap au snippet, it’s slowly but surely coming together :)

(Part 1 for anyone who hasn’t read it)

He leans over and squints to see Richie’s work, but doesn’t get very far before he hears someone yell, “Cheaters!” and jumps slightly. He glances behind him to see Grace Chasity scowling at him and shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Oh, hey, Grace,” he says, flashing what he hopes is a charming grin “this isn’t what it looks like.”

“First you try to cheat on the test and now you’re lying about it? See, it’s a slippery slope. This is for your own good,” she replies, raising her voice to yell, “Miss Mulberry, they’re cheating!”

Miss Mulberry gives them a severe look that’s more directed at Max than Richie, but still sends them both to the principal’s office. As they’re waiting outside, Richie hunches over slightly and crosses his arms, scratching at them.

“What, have you never been in trouble before?” says Max “it’s gonna be like two hours detention, tops.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Richie snaps back “you’re the mayor’s son! For some of us lowly peasants, academic misconduct has actual consequences.”

He’s called in and emerges a few minutes later, still not looking too pleased, but substantially less tense.

“You were right,” he grumbles, “two hours’ detention. I guess it’s not the end of the world.”

Max heads in next and principal Blim beckons him to take a seat.

“Hi, Max, long time no see,” he says “if only we could have kept it that way. You know, there’s help available if you were struggling with the material. Why didn’t you seek it out instead of resorting to cheating?”

Because everyone else seems to get it to varying degrees and he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t. Because he’s so lost that he doesn’t even know what he doesn’t know - he wouldn’t know what questions to ask and he can’t pinpoint where he’s struggling when every concept in that class is incomprehensible to him. Because Steph never asks for help with school stuff and he shouldn’t need it, either. He should be able to figure it out like a proper Lauter.

“Desperate times?” he says with a shrug and an impish smile. Principal Blim’s expression remains stern.

“This is no laughing matter,” he says “per school policy, academic misconduct on any test is an automatic zero, which brings your grade down to an F and officially puts you on academic probation. If you can’t bring your grades up within the next couple weeks, you’ll be sitting out the rest of the volleyball season and you can forget about lacrosse. Beyond that, if you can’t turn things around by the end of the semester, we might need to start thinking about having you repeat your senior year.”

“You mean, uh, getting held back?” He can hear his heart pounding in his ears. His muscles tense and he starts to feel dizzy. He tries to take slow, even breaths without being too obvious about it.

“Well, we don’t really like to use that terminology anymore, but essentially, yes,” principal Blim replies.

Next time someone refers to him as a Lauter, he’ll be sure to correct them. He doesn't deserve to be called one. Solomon basically saved him and all he asks in return is that Max stay out of trouble and not flunk out of school and he couldn’t even manage that. He tries so hard to make him proud, but all he’s done is embarrass and burden him.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll get them up,” he says, although he has no idea how he’s going to swing it in such a short time “so, do I have detention or…?” He knows the answer.

“I spoke to your father and we agreed this is punishment enough,” principal Blim replies. Oh, God, he’s not looking forward to that conversation. For once, he actually hopes Solomon is too busy with politics to make an appearance at home. With his luck, today will be the one day he bothers.

“Okay,” he says. Principal Blim dismisses him and Richie’s still waiting just outside, flipping through some kind of comic book.

“What are you still doing here?” he asks.

Richie glances up from his reading. “Well, there’s no point in going back to class now, I’m getting a zero on that quiz regardless.”

Max smiles sheepishly again. “Sorry,” he says.

“Well, whatever, I agreed to it,” Richie says with a sigh “at worst it’ll knock my grade down to an A minus. Honestly, I’m more worried about the attention this is going to attract.”

“You don’t want to attract attention?”

“Uh, no,” Richie says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I want to be invisible. It’s the only way to survive this hellscape. You wouldn’t get it. You have mayor’s kid privilege and cool kid privilege.”

“Well, if you wanna be invisible, why do you wear a Hawaiian shirt and a vest to school everyday?”

“Hey, the layers are an essential part of the whole equation,” Richie replies indignantly “I can kind of, I don’t know, disappear into them? Besides that, it’s a comfort thing. Like a weighted blanket. Or a hug.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. I’m not much of a hugger, though.” It’s technically not a lie, although it’s more for a lack of opportunity than anything else. He’s not super close with the guys from either of his teams and their physical contact is mostly limited to high fives and chest bumps and maybe the occasional bro hug after a really good game. Solomon’s never hugged him, but sometimes he’ll briefly put an arm around his shoulders or affectionately ruffle his hair when they’re out in public and he thinks there might be reporters around. If he’s lucky, he’ll get a reluctant hug from Steph, but only if they’re making a public appearance and Solomon forces her. She’s initiated exactly one willingly and he still treasures the memory. Sophomore year, on his mom’s birthday, she busted into the boy’s bathroom in search of any geeks who might be hiding in the stalls and instead found him in there all alone, hunched over the sink, sniffling pathetically as he tried and failed to make the tears stop flowing and splashing warm water on his face so that it wouldn’t be too obviously red and puffy. She rolled her eyes and told him to cut it out before anyone saw him being such a little bitch, but still wrapped her arms around him more tenderly than many people would think her capable. “It sucks, I know,” she’d said. To this day, she refuses to acknowledge that it ever happened.

“Whatcha reading?” Max asks.

“Oh, uh, Haikyuu. It’s a sports manga about a high school volleyball team.”

“Oh, that’s sick,” he says, flashing that bright, sincere smile once more “maybe I’ll read it sometime! Steph always says that stuff is for weebs and losers, but she didn’t tell me they made sports manga. And about volleyball? That’s my thing!” He thinks it’s kind of cool that somebody out there is invested enough in high school volleyball to make a series about it and, presumably, at least a handful of people are invested enough to read it. See, people do care about it.

“Yeah, it’s really good. I actually almost tried out for the team because of it, but nerds aren’t allowed to go out for sports.”

Max frowns. “Aw, bummer! I guess it’s too late to join now, but if you want to play sometime, maybe we could get a game going with some of the guys from the team. Just for fun. If you want to.”

Richie shakes his head. The hopeful look Max is giving him almost makes him feel sorry for the guy, cool kid privilege aside. “I don’t think so. Look, it was fun getting busted for academic misconduct together, but we really can’t be hanging out. She won’t like that.”

“You mean my sister? She can’t tell us what to do,” Max replies.

“What are you, new here? Yes, she can. If you think a loser like me can go against her of all people, you’re willfully naive. In fact, I need to get out of here before she sees me talking to you. She’s creamed nerds for less.” As if on cue, the bell rings and he takes off running.

Peter leans up against the wall and tentatively peeks around the corner to make sure the coast is clear before stepping into the hallway. Just when he thinks he’s going to make it to class unscathed, somebody yells,

“Hey, Micro-Peter!” His lips contort into scowl. Not this again. It’s been years, when will people finally drop it?

“For the last time, it’s not a micropenis! It’s grown since then!” He retorts. He turns to see who said it and his heart drops. It’s the absolute last person he should be talking back to if he wants to survive his senior year. Her two lackeys stand on either side of her, arms crossed. Kyle has a wicked grin on his face. Jason’s attempting one, but he’s not very good at it and it looks more like he’s smiling awkwardly to have his school picture taken than anything else.

“What? It’s a compliment,” Steph says with a sneer “you’re, like, famous around here.” She looks over to Kyle and Jason, her lips curling into a diabolical smile. “What do you say, boys? Should we give him special treatment because of his celebrity status and let him off the hook for this hallway infraction?”

“Ha! Yeah,” says Jason.

She looks at him incredulously. “No, obviously! It was a rhetorical question, genius. He’s getting a kick-it ticket! Kyle, restrain the perp.” Kyle eagerly runs over to him and grabs him by the shoulders as Stephanie winds up her foot and kicks him straight in the crotch. Kyle lets go and he collapses in a heap on the highly unsanitary hallway floor as the pain radiates through his body.

“Jesus,” he hisses, struggling to pick himself back up. He eventually succeeds and staggers away, still slightly hunched over in pain.

“Ha, fuck outta here, Jackoffski!” Kyle says. He nudges Jason in the ribs and he joins in the laughter, too.

“Jackoffski. That’s good,” Steph says with a chuckle, raising her hand to give Kyle a high five. Her mood sours when she sees her brother approaching. Technically, it’s not a hallway infraction - he’s not a nerd, so he’s within his rights to be here, but how many times has she told him to stay out of her way at school?

“Oh, hey, sis,” he says with the usual dumb, goofy grin on his face “Kyle, Jason.” He greets them a bit more nervously. He can never be sure when they’re going to start in on him at Stephanie’s behest.

“Hey, dipshit,” she replies and his face instantly falls. Good. It’s only fair. Solomon referred to her as his idiot daughter for the millionth time this morning, but made no mention of his arguably even less intelligent idiot son. It’s up to her to remind him. “Heard you got busted for academic misconduct. You know what dad always says, if you’re going to cheat, do it like a Lauter and don’t get caught. What, couldn’t even pass a little five question quiz by yourself?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Kyle says with a sneer, then turns to Steph “I was there, he cheated off the gross, sweaty anime kid.”

“Ugh, ew!” Steph says, face contorting into an expression of pure disgust “you actually talked to him?”

“What’s the big deal? You cheat off geeks all the time,” Max points out.

“Yeah, but he’s, like, a step down from a geek.”

“Yeah,” Kyle chimes in “he’s so gross!”

He and Steph both look at Jason expectantly for a moment before he picks up on it.

“Yeah,” he says, drawing out the word “he, uh, he smells like an open asshole!”

Steph directs her look of disgust to him now. “Ew,” she says again “that’s nasty.” Jason frowns.

Right at that moment, the sound of a familiar voice draws closer, chanting, “Hey, ho! Heck no! Co-ed dances gotta go!” Grace marches towards them, holding the “Homec*mming” sign she’s been proudly brandishing every passing period since the first day of school up high.

“Hey, look, it’s chastity belt,” Jason says, seizing the opportunity to get Steph’s attention off of him.

“Yeah, speaking of gross nerds,” Kyle adds.

“Oh, you think she’s gross, do you?” Steph asks. Max can’t help but smirk. He has a feeling he knows what’s coming. “Do elaborate.”

“She’s, uh, she’s such a nerdy prude! A total two-bagger!” Kyle says.

“Ha. Funny,” Steph says flatly. Without warning, she winds up her fist and hits him square in the nose, knocking him off balance. Jason hastily catches him. He groans and blinks up at her.

“I don’t think she’s a two-bagger, whatever that means,” says Max “she’s kinda cute.”

Stephanie’s jaw tenses. Apparently, he hasn’t taken enough from her. Now he’s thinking of going after the girl she likes? She’d better get that idea out of his head and remind him who’s in charge here. She socks him in the face, too and he staggers backwards. Jason catches him and looks down at him and Kyle with concern, struggling to hold them both up. Max brings up a hand to rub the fresh red mark on his cheek, a stupid sad, betrayed, wounded puppy look in his eyes.

“What are you still doing here?” she asks Jason exasperatedly “make like Spankoffski during the MEAP and beat it. And take those two with you. I want to be alone with Gracie.”

Jason turns and begins to walk away, one arm slung around Kyle and the other around Max, both of whom are still a little dazed. He strains under their combined weight and just barely manages to turn the corner before Grace arrives.

“Wait! We’re trying to get the dance canceled! Tell your teammates!” Grace calls after them.

“Hey, Grace,” Steph greets her. How anyone could think Grace is a two-bagger is beyond her. She’s so damn cute with that neat little pink bow around her neck and those stupid butterfly clips placed perfectly in her hair. There’s always been something intriguing about the stark contrast between the whole pastel church girl aesthetic and the burning intensity in her eyes when she’s crusading for one of her causes. “I like your sign. Homecumming. You’re funny.”

“Well, that’s what they might as well call it. Dress it up however you want, it’s still just an excuse for kids to dry hump in the gym.”

“Amen,” says Steph “you stoked or what?” She knows that Grace is not, in fact, stoked about it and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited for the scolding she’s sure to receive. Grace doesn’t disappoint.

“No, Stephanie,” she says, harshly emphasizing each syllable in her name “I am not ‘stoked’ to slip on a pile of wayward spunk while running laps in that gym. And unless you’re stoked to roast on a spit in hell, I wouldn’t say ‘amen’ in such a blasphemous context.”

“Sorry, Grace, I didn’t mean to offend,” says Steph with a smirk “just a little joke.”

Grace scowls. “Hmph. Very funny,” she says.

“You know, it’s no wonder you’re so high-strung, Chas-ti-ty. These levels of repression are deeply unhealthy. I mean, we’re eighteen, isn’t it totally normal to want to dry hump in the gym?”

“Exactly,” Grace fires back “we’re only eighteen. Neither of us should be thinking of such vulgar things, not until we’re safely married!”

“C’mon, you don’t ever think about letting loose and giving into your basest urges? Deep down, you’re a dirty girl, I just know it.”

“Don’t call me that!” Grace says, appalled at the audacity “look, are you going to sign the petition or not? I have to get to class.”

“Sorry, dirty girl, I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Steph says with a sultry smile. Grace quietly sucks a breath in through her teeth.

“I could sign it,” Steph continues “I could force everyone in school to sign it. I could decide homecoming’s for nerds so that even if the dance doesn’t get canceled, nobody wants to go and your gym floor remains free of wayward spunk. All I ask is one little date in return.”

“Absolutely not,” says Grace indignantly.

“Okay, let me carry your books, final offer,” Steph replies.

“Carry my books?” Grace sputters, willfully ignoring the way her face flushes “that’s even worse! That’s wrong. That’s so, so wrong! You know what? Forget it. I don’t need help from the likes of you.” With that, she storms off. Steph continues to smirk as she watches her go.

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #max jagerman #stephanie lauter #grace chasity #richie lipschitz #Pete makes an appearance but not enough to tag him #lautity #stephgrace #max and Steph roleswap au #hatchetfield fanfic

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