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moonlight1110 · 2 months

Text

Crawling back to you

ex-boyfriend!Ghost x Reader ; (Late) Valentines Special ;)

Your ex-boyfriend who comes banging at your door in the middle of the night. He desperately wants you back, and when he invites himself in, is there really nothing else you can do?

Tags: afab!reader, p in v, smut, nsfw, vaginal sex, rough sex (kinda idk), mating press, pathetic!Simon, far from canon simon, i write with badjhur's voice in my ear, not propfread, proofread anyway BC I hate typos

Notes: planned on writing something for valentines but uni fucked me sideways so im posting today <3

"What the hell..." You jump as three hard knocks come from your door, almost as if the person on the other side was just a second away from breaking it down.

You didn't need to go through your mental library to know who it was, you knew exactly who was at your door at this ungodly hour because who else in their right mind would show up uninvited except him.

With a grunt, you roll off of bed and trudge to your front door. A heavy feeling pressing down on your chest as you got closer and closer to the door, you contemplated if opening it was even a good option, but knowing who was on the other side, choosing to ignore him was going to be a poor decision on your part.

With an tired sigh, you grabbed the door knob, squeezing it as doubts ran through your mind, but you are snapped out of it when he knocks, even harder than before.

"What are you doing?!" You ask, trying not to scream at him to avoid receiving another noise complaint from your overbearing neighbors when you opened the door slightly to peek out the small crack of it. Standing on the other side was someone you knew all too well.

"Let me in" his voice was low as he looked down at you, dark eyes staring at you from the opening of his balaclava. "Please..." He took a step forward, placing a hand on your door, but you stayed firm. "Simon, you can't just come here in the middle of the night and expect me to let you in" you argued, hardening the hand that was holding your door.

"I miss you, baby, come on..." He pushed the door slightly, you knew you wouldn't stand a chance even if you tried your hardest to shut the door. With how strong and large Simon was, trying to fight back against him was next to impossible.

"Simon, please..." You looked at him, brows furrowing. However, even at your attempts to stand by your decision, there was a part of you that wanted him to just push your door open... An unexplainable feeling, you thought.

"Take me back... I'll do anything" He sounded desperate, his voice sounded unlike the person you thought you knew, he sounded hurt, vulnerable, not like the usual stone cold and stoic Ghost you knew.

"You broke up with me remember... You can't just go back on that when you want to" your expression hardened in contrast to his which softened as he looked into your eyes. He regretted it, deeply.

"I did, I know that but I didn't know I would be making the biggest mistake of my life, love..." He steps closer, pushing your door open just a bit again. "Don't call me that... Just don't" you shake your head in disapproval but that small part of you just misses the way he called you that, how it rolled off his tongue like honey, you missed it.

"Just let me in, let's talk... I miss you" the last part comes out as a mumbled plea as he pushes your door open finally, stepping inside like he never left. Those three words just made you want to jump over the boundaries you so desperately tried to build up, but all you could do was step aside and let him in, there was no point in fighting him.

"What's there left to talk about, Simon?" You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as Simon removed his shoes, it looked so familiar next to yours...

"I want you back, I can't fuckin' live without you..." His brows knit together as he looks down at you, reaching out but you step back with a disapproving look. "Then why did you end it in the first place if you were just gonna come back to me anyway..." Your hands fall to your sides with a defeated sigh leaving your lips.

"I told you, it was the distance, my work... I thought breaking up with you would be the best choice for the both f'us..." Ignoring your attempts at creating space between you, he steps closer, caging you between his arms as he leaned against the wall, effectively trapping you under him.

"I was wrong, baby... So fuckin' wrong..." he whispered, his eyes silently pleading for your to just listen. He leaned forward so close you could feel his hot breath even through the fabric of his balaclava.

"I didn't even want to leave you..." You started, your face scrunching as you remembered the events that happened the day he cut things off between the two of you. "You made up so many reasons, so many excuses... You put words in my mouth..." You looked away, feeling your chest tighten again at the recollection of your memories together. It hurt to bring up and remember but with seeing Simon standing in front of you again, it was impossible to push those thoughts away.

"I know, I know..." He took your chin inbetween his index and thumb, willing you to look back at him. His expression was one of guilt and desperation, that much was clear with the way he was looking at you.

"But I can't stand another day without you, been regretting that decision every fuckin' day, love..." He leans in, snaking a hand around your waist. You want to pull away, to push him off and tell him to fuck off from you forever but you don't, you just cant find it in you to push him away when all you wanted was to be with him.

"Those months away from you felt like an eternity, don't wanna feel that anymore..." He pulls you closer, holding you tightly against his chest with his nose now inhaling the scent of your hair from the crook of your neck.

"We can't... This is the type of shit that complicates things, Simon..." you place your hands on his chest as if you even wanna push him off you. "I don't care..." He groans and pulls his balaclava off, breathing against your neck. It makes you squirm the way his hands are travelling down now, you missed it more than you were willingly to openly admit to him anyway, but that's no issue for how your body is responding.

"Fuck if it means we'll get complicated, I need you back..." He kisses at your neck, still familiar with all the spots that just made you melt. "Can't be away from you for another fuckin' day, baby..." He groans, pinning you against the wall by your hips, grinding a knee to your clothed cunt.

"Just say the word and I'll leave..." He groans, giving your throat a good lick all the way to your collarbone as his hands found your ass, kneading like he owned it. "I'll leave and I'll never come back, I won't bother you... But y'need to tell me..." His lips drag along your shoulder as he pulls you closer on his thigh, "Tell me... Tell me y'never wanna see me again, push me away..." He mumbles against the side of your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat with the way he was talking to you, you knew Simon was a man who was true to his word and once you'd tell him to leave, he would.

"C'mon..." he retracts from your neck and pulls back to look you in the eyes, his brows are furrowed and his eyes are blown out as his eyes flicker over your features like he's trying to memorize every single detail before you told him to leave.

"I..." you scramble to find the words, you wanna tell him to leave but you also want him to stay, you two didn't even end on that much of a bad note, it was a misunderstanding, a poor decision which was made in the heat of the moment...

"Don't leave..." You give in to your emotions, just seeing Simon again after your breakup hurt like hell, but god would you curse yourself if you allowed him to leave again... You couldn't take that, seeing him walk out again, leaving you for the second time.

"Fuck..." He groans as he connects your lips, his hands are pulling at you and pinning you against the wall. It's a passionate and desperate kiss from him, which you return with your own, full of want and the same desperation you craved would be quenched for such a long time. No one did it like him, no one ever loved you like Simon Riley ever did.

Your arms find his neck as your head tilts, allowing Simon to push his tongue past your lips. He doesn't let up, doesn't get up for air, he just fucking wants you, wants to take you right then and there with how much he misses you.

His hands cup your ass as he lifts you up against the all and you wrap your legs around his torso as he finally pulls away from the kiss. "I need you, baby... Fuckin' missed you too much..." he practically growled as he sucked on your neck, walking to your bedroom.

"Simon, calm down..." You mumbled as he set you down on the bed, you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating but that only made him chuckle. "Can't calm down when I have you in my arms again, love" He stared down at you as he leaned back up, removing his shirt quickly.

"Missed you so much..." He whispered against your ear when he dove back down, making space for himself between your legs as he hovered on top of you with his arms on either side of your head. "Missed the way you feel around me..." He hummed while his hands trailed down your waist, to your hips, then just above the hem of your flimsy sleeping shorts.

"Did y'think 'bout me too? hm?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his hand travelled under your shorts, his middle finger now circling on your wet clit through your panties. You didn't notice how you ruined your underwear until you felt how slick and uncomfortable it was when Simon pressed harder against your clit.

"Yeah... I did..." you whispered breathily, back arching at the feeling of Simon's thick fingers pleasuring you. He smirks, taking the opportunity to kiss and suck at your neck. "Mmm... Yeah?" He chuckles against your throat, parting your slick covered panties to the side to finally tease at your wet pussy.

"Fuck baby... She missed me didn't she?" he laughs, looking down at the way his hand moved from under your shorts. "Fuckin' pussy missed me too, huh?" He chuckles, as he pushes his thick finger inside you, making you gasp and grip at his arm.

"Simon!" you shut your eyes, back arching as he pressed gentle kisses against your throat. "Relax baby... need to prepare you again, been too long since I've fucked this pretty little pussy..." He coos, adding another finger to stretch you out, curling them so deliciously inside you.

"Fuck... I-" you whimper, sucking in a breath as he finds that spot inside you that just makes you break, he still knows of course, knows every single spot and every single way to make you crumble and submit to him. "I'm gonna cum, Si..." You whisper breathlessly, hands shaking around Simon's arm weakly.

Simon doesn't say anything except give you a cruel chuckle when he waits for the perfect time, just when you're about to cum to take his fingers out and it makes you shoot him a nasty glare. "Why did you do that?!" You whined, but your voice weakens at the sight of the hard bulge under his pants.

"Don't want you cummin' on anything but my cock tonight, love..." he chuckles dangerously, sitting on his knees to unbuckle his pants. He looks down at you with a hunger in his eyes, licking his lips as he finally rolls the zipper down. "C'mon, don't just stare" He smirks, snapping you out of your trance. "Right..." you blink, moving closer to him.

"Good..." he praises as he watches you tug his pants and boxers down together and tossing it down the side of the bed. "Fuck..." He hisses when he's finally free, his dick rock hard and heavy, twitching as beads of precum roll down from the tip. Your breathing quickens when you see it, it's bigger than you remember, thick and running with veins you wish you could memorize.

"On your back..." Simon commands, his voice low as he wraps a hand around his shaft to stroke his dick slowly. "But..." you look into his eyes but he shakes his head with a mean smirk when he looks at you. "As much as I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours, that's gonna have to wait another time" He chuckles, pushing you down on your back by your shoulder.

"I need t'fuck you, baby... Need t'feel you 'round my dick again..." he growls, watching the way your face is flushed and your legs are spread out on either side of his torso. He strokes his dick in his hands as he hums, using his free hand to slide your shorts and panties over your legs, throwing it with his pants.

"Fuckin' hell..." he groans when his eyes finally see your bare pussy, your clit twitching and your entrance clenching around nothing. It makes him fist his cock harder as he runs his free hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and rolling it down in little circles.

"Stop teasing..." you say through gritted teeth as one of your hands grip the sheets under you and the other pressed against Simon's chest. "M'not teasing" He chuckles, tapping his dick on your clit a few times. "Just shut up and fuck me already, Simon..." You whine, slapping his chest pathetically.

"Gettin' feisty now, eh?" he laughs lowly as a low satisfied rumble comes from deep in his throat when he grinds his cock against your pussy, letting it catch your slick. "Need to take it slow, love... I don't wanna hurt you" Simon groans, aligning his tip with your entrance.

"Oh... god-" you breathe out matched with a long moan from Simon as pushes the tip in. It makes a lewd, sort of wet sound when he enters you. It makes your head spin in the way it makes Simon throw his head back as he pushes deeper until he's completely inside you with a hard thrust.

He rolls his thumb over your clit, waiting for your breath to steady. "Doin' so good, baby... Taking me so well..." He coos, pressing on your clit as his eyes narrow on the sight of your body, all hot just for him. "M-move, Si..." You whimper out, closing your eyes tightly and adjusting to the feel of Simon inside you again after so long.

Simon hums while he rolled his hips, slowly thrusting his cock in and out. It's slow so he can let you adjust, help you remember how good he stretches you out that it makes you all dumb and pliable for him. "Mmm, yeah... Feels so good, love" he grunts, his hips moving just a tad bit faster.

He thrusts all the way to the hilt every single time, and it feels like he goes deeper and deeper with every thrust he gives you. He squeezes at your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he parts your legs even more, putting you in a mating press.

It makes you whimper the way you're starting to feel the slight pain of Simon's body pressed right into you. He's like an animal now, fucking you in such a primal way when he growls in your ear, encouraged by the delicious moans you give him and how you squirm and say his name in your breathy, fucked out voice.

"That's it, taking me like such a good fuckin' girl" He chuckles, driving his hips harder, the sound of his skin slapping against your cunt almost drives you crazy. He leans up, letting your legs rest as he massages them gently, a sharp juxtaposition from how hard he's fucking your weeping cunt.

"Needed this so bad, baby..." He groans, pulling your legs around his torso as he leans down to kiss at your neck. You can hear him mumbling sweet little nothings in your ear as his hands grip at your thighs and the soft skin of your waist.

"Tell me y'missed me... I wanna hear it" He mumbles against your neck, moaning lowly. He sounded so calm and so gentle yet the way his cock was filling you up and stretching you out so good was far from gentle. "Tell me y'missed this dick, baby, c'mon..." He hums, his hand travelling up to play with your tits.

"I-I mis-" You started, but the way Simon was fucking you so good made your head spin you couldn't even string a proper sentence together. He laughed, grazing his teeth over the skin of your shoulder, "Awe can't even speak anymore?" He teases, slowing his hips down and it makes you groan in disapproval.

"Why'd you slow down..." you whine, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. "Wanna hear you say you missed me first" He chuckled. It was bad enough that he slowed down, but it's even worse when he pulls out and looks down at you with a cruel smirk, stroking the cock that was supposed to be making you cum.

"Tell me how bad you missed me, baby, you can do it" He laughs lowly and he doesn't look away from you as he fists his cock to the look of pleasure on your face.

"I-I missed you Simon, so much-" you moaned out desperately as your pussy clenched on nothing. You were ready to beg for his cock again if he needed you to but you didn't have to worry for long when he turned you around, stuffing your pussy with his fat cock from behind.

"Good girl... Such a good fuckin' girl, aren't ya?" His words are so dirty it makes you tighten around him with a stifled moan as he fucks you fast and deep, not giving you a chance to adjust to the new angle he's pounding you in.

You can't respond and all you can even do is moan and take Simon's hard dick stuffing you over and over again. It doesn't take long for you to feel that tight knot forming in your stomach and Simon can feel it too from the way you're starting to tighten around him.

"Gonna cum, baby?" He asks you with a drawn out hum as he kneads your ass, watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.

You nod, moaning into your pillows as you clawed at the sheets. "Cum for me then... Cum on my dick..." He coos, pushing your hips down to give himself a better view of your ass. Your arms give out and you're practically being fucked into the bed.

Simon chuckles, taking your wrists and pulling them towards him suddenly. It makes you gasp when you feel the pressure building in your shoulders when Simon tightens his grip on your wrists.

"Si... M'close..." Your voice comes out choked out and broken, spiking up every time he bullies his cock harshly inside you and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Don't need to tell me baby, just cum f'me..." He mutters breathlessly, now holding your wrists behind your back with one hand as the other lands a harsh slap to your ass, making you whimper.

You gasp as tears rolled down your cheeks from how overwhelmed you were. "Simon... Simon..." your voice shakes as you struggle against his grip on your wrists. "Do it baby, cum for me..." He hums, giving your ass a loving squeeze.

You dig your nails into the sheets when you finally feel that knot in your stomach unravel, you feel tingly all over as you cum on Simon's cock with a loud moan of his name. It makes you whine when he doesn't stop, chasing his orgasm now when he feels your pussy tighten around him so good.

"Fuck baby... That's it, that's it..." His groan turns into a drawn out moan as he throws his head back. With the way you were clenching down on him, it made him sloppy.

Simon was sounding whiny now while he chased his high. His hands were squeezing your hips as he held you down and fucked you harder into the bed. He was babbling now, about how good you felt and how you were such a good girl. All for him.

"Feel's so good, lovie... Let me cum inside, please?" He whined through gritted teeth, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. "Please let me cum inside? Please, baby... Please..." He moans into your skin desperately, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.

"Yes... Yes, inside..." You nod desperately, feeling overstimulated after just coming down from your high and now being used by Simon to chase his own climax.

"Oh fuck..." His voice shakes as he cums inside you, painting your walls white with his cum as he gives you a few more hard thrusts to make sure you take all of it.

"Thank you, love... Thank you" he whispers after some time had passed, giving your hips an appreciative squeeze as he slowly pulled out of you. You whined when he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless as you felt his hot cum drip from your pussy to your clit.

"So beautiful..." Simon whispers as he lays beside you, pulling you close to him in a warm hug with your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around his waist and means his head down on your shoulder to give you gentle kisses.

"I love you..." He whispered close to your ear as his hands caressed your body soothingly. You hummed in content as you relaxed in his arms and allowed yourself to move a bit closer.

"I love you too..." You say quietly, rubbing his arms which were wrapped around you. Simon hums and kisses your hair, lingering there to take in your scent. "I won't leave again... I promise" he mumbles against your hair, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly.

You nod, looking over your shoulder to give him a warm smile, you were too tired and spent to talk but you knew Simon would be able to know what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes.

He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to your lips briefly. "And you know what's funny?" He laughed softly, raising a hand to caress your cheek, "It's Valentine's day" he looked over to the window and you followed his eyes.

The sun was starting to rise and it made you scoff that Simon really came back to you at the perfect timing.

"We're staying in, that's for sure" you laughed quietly, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as sleep slowly overtook you, but you didn't feel lonely anymore. Simon was back, and he knew he would never leave again.

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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HSR men with a clumsy s/o? Im mainly thinking about Jing Yuan but you can do whoever you want!

I'm pretty clumsy as well when it comes to thing. Martial arts classes did not help.

Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, princess carry, rescue (sort of), teasing, kissing, domestic fluff

A/N: If any of them hold and save me from my own clumsiness I am moving in with them no questions asked.

Blade feels like he needs to be with you all the time to stop you from somehow hurting yourself. To be honest he should find it very annoying but its kind of funny how clumsy you are, how easily you would get hurt if it weren't for him. You're real lucky he's with you, keeping you close, his arm tightly secured around around you no matter what, looking at you with just a hint of a smirk and possessiveness. His possessiveness if for your protection only of course, he would never want to restrict you.

Dan Heng is always careful when you're around. He's not sure how you do it but somehow you would end up tripping over your own feet if he weren't there. What a clumsy woman he's fallen for. Maybe its all part of your charm, you trip, he catches you and then you look up at him and give him a thank you kiss. Is that it? Are you being extra clumsy around him just to get free kisses? Oh that is smart if true, he will be sure to give you a kiss of his own for that. What a clever woman you are, luring him into a false sense of security.

Gepard has a natural protective instinct over you, his girlfriend but he never thought he'd had to be on the lookout for potential dangers in the home you share. Always has to cook dinner with you because he doesn't want you accidentally cutting or burning yourself. Good thing you're such a good cook otherwise he would not let you anywhere close to the kitchen. Even when setting the tables he has to catch both you and the plates, or risk pinning you down to the table, which could also hurt, so be careful.

Jing Yuan is ready to catch and sweep you of your feet when ever you fall. He's carrying you princess style and once again commenting on your poor sense of balance. You really should join him when he trains, he'll personally teach you everything he knows. Not that he minds being your big, strong, hunky savior either, not when you look at him with such starry eyes, like he's done a miracle when all he did was catch you. Although that might be a miracle, that he managed to get such a cute sweetheart like yourself.

Luocha has medicine ready if you get hurt but honestly he would much rather avoid that all together whenever possible. He's always holding your hand, helping you over big logs, jumping from stone to stone in rivers or lakes and cuddling with you when you go to sleep to prevent anything bad happening to you. He is very confidant in his ability to heal you if you somehow end up in an accident but the thought of that is so painful that he needs medicine. What kind? Well, your kiss of course.

Welt keeps a close eye on you, close then on anyone on the Astral Express. They all think its because you're lovers and he's being secretly flirty but he's not, he's really not. He just wants to make sure you cute self makes it back to and from missions in one beautiful piece. And don't you ever think that you're being a bother to him, if you were he wouldn't insist on you going on missions with him. You might be clumsy but you're very smart too, he doesn't want anyone else by his side.

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moonshynecybin · 5 months

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if you have the time or inclination, can i ask what the deal with motogp/those boys is about? i don’t mean that in a mean way btw, im just curious and i love drama

i will try to be brief (1/4358)

SO! valentino rossi (born 16 February 1979, aquarius. italian.) is one of the most iconic people in motorsport, CERTAINLY in motogp. he's a 9 time world champion, your favorite driver's favorite driver, and is generally credited with revolutionizing the popularity of the sport by: a. being insanely good at motorcycle racing, and b. in general having a lot of fun about it. lethally charming and charismatic. all time active listening face. just a fun and funny dude that everyone pretty much likes and MANY younger riders idolize. VERY good at handling the media and his legions of cult-like fans. sometimes treated more like a god than a person. i was in the store yesterday and saw one of his themed monster energy drinks despite him retiring two years ago. his fun retirement activity is racing BMWs and running his own motogp team/training facility/cult for young italian racers. (this is where cele and bezz and basically every italian rider not named enea bastianini come from!)

so in 2011ish valentino had won 9 titles, and he decided to leave his current manufacturer and move to italian manufacturer ducati where he generally had a stone-cold terrible time. EXTENDED flop era for a couple years. any time ive watched content that covers this period everyone is so sad. so sad. anyways he GOES BACK to his old manufacturer in 2013 and is much more competitive. kind of just happy to be winning sometimes and be on the podium. 2013 is also where marc comes in. what could go wrong.

marc marquez! (born 17 february 1993, almost exactly 14 years after vale which i'm sure means nothing. also an aquarius. spanish.) childhood sports idols include: dani pedrosa, VALENTINO ROSSI.

marc carved his way up through the feeder championships until casey stoner unexpectedly retired at the end of the 2012 season leaving a seat empty on a VERY good bike for his rookie season. rocked up and was immediately VERY good at winning and very good at being a crazyinsane person on track that made people mad at him lol. hilarious habit of pissing people off via on-track crimes that i really enjoy. motogp riders are already crazy (they do death sport) but marc is famous for taking risks no one else will. basically if he's not winning, he's crashed out or he's maybe crashed YOU out. he wins the championship as a rookie (insane) and the next year's championship as well. heir apparent to the throne. sweet and goofy but is now known as one of the more reserved riders with the press. probably because of all this drama tbh. undisputed GOAT of acting like a slut on camera

throughout 2013-2014, marc and valentino had a good relationship! marc very clearly idolizes him and is like. bowled over completely with delight every time valentino looks his way. vale likes him! theyre buds! truly an endless well of pictures of vale explaining something with his hands and marc babygirling at him. highly recommend checking out @pgaslys every rosquez podium tag for contextual brain damage. insane times.

(IT SHOULD BE NOTED: before the 2015 season marc visits valentino at his practice track in italy, where they compete to break the track record and almost kill each other bc they are so pathologically competitive. APPARENTLY, marc showed up with some official mechanics and valentino was a little pissed off because it was supposed to be a like. fun thing. and to marc winning is the most fun! if you dont come to win why come at all! anyways marc breaks the track record and credits that to cooling their relationship a bit. good post about it here.) here they are that day:

so what could go wrong, right? WELL. valentino has a chance to win his tenth title in 2015. marc is on a flop bike and crashed a bunch so he's not in the championship conversation but vale is leading the standings from the jump, with his main opponent being jorge lorenzo. i think he really wanted that tenth, and dedicated himself to the season in a way he hadnt really ever before (he was a very effortless competitor when he was young. gym-adverse. king).

marc and him start to get into some scraps along the way, notably in argentina (where they made contact and marc crashed out), assen (where they made contact AGAIN and vale won the race), and phillip island (marc won. GREAT race available here for free). phillip island sees vale finishing P4 and jorge lorenzo finishing ahead of him in P3, reducing his championship lead by quite a bit. no real indication of any tension during these races, and they are asked about it!

this is where valentino's delulu era begins! basically, ahead of the next race (🔥🔥SEPANG 2015🔥🔥) in the pre-race press conference, he goes after marc, saying he was deliberately sabotaging valentino in phillip island because marc wanted jorge to win. in valentino's mind. marc wants jorge to win because a. they are both spanish (??) and b. it would mean marc has to win less titles to equal valentino's total. record scratch. freeze frame.

everyone (including marc!) thinks valentino is joking at first bc that is bananascrazyinsane. he was not joking. (it should be noted valentino STILL thinks this lol.) anyways marc is completely blindsided. he thought they were good! yeah they've been chippy on track but that's racing!! truly like. 22 years old and your friend (AND CHILDHOOD IDOL.) is calling you a snake in front of your face with NO prior warning to the entire motogp establishment writ large including your coworkers and REPORTERS. valentino wont even look at him the entire time. the press conference is available here on vimeo. excruciating gifsets of marc's very stiff bewildered PR smile found here.

anyways so. the race. marc is uh. pissed off. he's stuck to valentino like GLUE the entire time and they trade places a bunch of times. now marc is kind of famous for being a little asshole on track anyways, but its not like he's gonna get out of valentino's way and just let him pass after what he said in that press conference so. hand in unlovable hand <3. truly very fun to watch imo even with the sword of damocles hanging over them. marc is fucking on one the entire race and basically refuses to give valentino an inch until vale gets so fed up with his antics that um. well. it certainly looks like he kicked him. vale says he didnt, and that his leg accidently made contact with marc's bike. marcs says. he fucking kicked me. judge for yourself here!

so valentino gets hauled in front of race direction and penalized for the next race (the deciding race for the championship). he has to start from the back of the grid and it kills his chance at a tenth title stone dead. vale places the blame squarely on marc's shoulders and his legions of fans decide marc is public enemy number 1. him and jorge have to get security at the next race because of death threats, someone tries to break into marc's childhood home back in spain, marc's mom throws away all of marc's valentino merchandise from when he was a kid. vale says nothing.

but the thing about marc. is that he loves very hard and chooses his people pretty carefully. didnt really move out of his tiny hometown until he turned 30 and also made his baby brother move in with him kind of guy. so all this is not really enough for him to let go of vale entirely! 2016 is where the pain lives! bc marc is still reaching out and vale himself stays pretty cold for a couple years. they seem to faintly reconcile for a bit but its not anywhere like it was before sepang.

the real nail in the coffin is argentina 2018. another insane race where marc has to start from the back and goes on a rampage through the field and crashes out like three people. i cant remember. this race is also available on youtube for free its very entertaining. every five minutes marc does something insane. vale is one of the people marc crashes out and afterwardshe goes on a big rant about how marc is destroying the sport and is actively dangerous. marc goes to valentino's garage immediately after the race to apologize and vale doesnt even look at him. he gets turned away at the door after vale's best friend/assistant/henchman yells in his face1!!! and thats kind off all she wrote in terms of reconciliation

anyways that's where we are! they are both very much not over it. vale goes on podcasts and is like. in 30 years i will still be mad, im literally never going to get over it it was such a big and unfair thing and i think about it all the time like it was yesterday. and marc (lying) says as time goes by i dont even think about it :) and i care about valentino less and less :))) but yes he hurt me deeply lol. CANNOT stress enough how much this entire thing is now inextricably liked to both of their legacies. the two arguable GOATs of a sport had an epic fleetwood mac-style beatles breakup divorce and everyone wants to talk about it allllll day long including me :)

additional context! really recommend checking out marc's little docuseries he put out this year about his recent struggles with injury. he is so not right in the head and it goes over the valentino drama in ep3. theres also hitting the apex (2015) which goes over the 2013 season (marc's rookie season) and is a really good introduction to all the major players at the time. its like less than 2 hrs long so its not too much of a commitment

also recommend following scholars @babynflames, @its-always-silly-season, @baking-soda, and @f1vegas as well as many others im forgetting rn bc its 2am!

#truly. i am new here. so grain of salt etc #motogp #callie speaks #asks #long post #rosquez

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simp4konig · 6 months

Text

Halloweens with König headcannons 🎃🍂

Gender-neutral Reader

*Slow burn

Word Count: ~3246

*FLUFFFFFFF😿😿💖✨🩷🩷💘

*Soft König☺️ (but also König is a smug bastard + asshole 🙄), Established relationship, Single mention of (ambiguous) age gap 😮‍💨

🧡Happy Halloween guys!!🧡 I don't celebrate Halloween myself , but im feeling 😈in the mood😈 so i hopw this can suffice for this ooky kooky spooky season 😰😰

Gos i wanna kms ive veen so uninspirws AAAHAHAHAHDHDHDDH this is literslly. Me rn--->💥💥💥💥💥🙂🔫 fuckijg FINALLT GOT sometjing OUT 🥳🥳 rest asusred iwont kms i need to finish my rqs first ☺️💖💖✨ i will feel SO euphoric when all the WIPS will become Completed Works !! 😍😍Im just gonna not post until i gdt smth donw bci hate giving false promises its the same as lyijg,🗿🗿

Tag List ♡ @simpforkonig ♡ @abysslovesyou ♡ @puff0o0 ☆ @rustic-guitar-notes ☆ @happy-mushrooms ♡ @reyner-lee ☆ @lotionlamp ♡ @trepaika ☆ @luci4theminorannoyance

...

König wasn't really one for Halloween.

Hadn't ever been, really, as he hadn't been raised to celebrate it.

In his household, he hadn't had much exposure to the Western "Hallow's Eve".

Besides, even if he was familiar with the tradition, his parents didn't bother celebrating those kinds of trivialities; after all, they certainly weren't going to bother wasting hard-earned money on trifles like pumpkins, just so they'd rot on the front porch, or candy that would rot your teeth, or on vulgar masks that depicted serial killers and monsters, too blasphemous to bear.

Plus, his neighbourhood didn't partake in "Trick-or-treat'ing" at all, and wouldn't leave any candy for any children — wouldn't do anything, really.

Nobody decorated their house with ghouls and ghosts, nobody dressed up as vampires or murderers, nobody jumped from behind corners to shout "Boo!".

None of that, as these ideas were childish. Infantile. Juvenile, even.

Thus, October 31st, König's Austrian villiage was quiet. So eerily quiet you'd had thought it was a ghost town had it not been for hundreds of cloaked figures in the cemetary — as, for König, "Halloween" tended to be a more sombre occasion in comparison to the American/English versions.

Instead of running around and knocking on people's doors with a broad, lopsided smile like other children ought, he was brought along to visit the graves of his family members: graves of his ancestors, which he'd be told about in detail, details of the person buried six feet under the stone slab; information and stories passed down from generations.

He would be taught to honour those deceased in his family and respect their memory, to remember those in the afterlife and what they sacrificed to get there.

Carrying a lamp, he'd light candles on those decrepit gravestones, text faded and illegible, while his parents left boquets of flowers, and pulled up their long black cloaks. Silently paying their respects.

While it wasn't necessarily a day of mourning — König never needed tissues to wipe any tears or blow his nose, and neither did anyone else in the family — it was far graver when compared to the Halloween holidays elsewhere.

However, König's memories of Halloween were few, far, and in-between.

Whenever he'd hear of other people's experiences, he was never nostalgic, as, the times that he did attend those familial ceremonies he was either too young to understand what was happening, or knew too little of the deceased[s] in question to be moved by the heavy atmosphere.

Not only that, but the time period was overwhelmingly solemn, with people flooding the burial grounds, some murmuring prayers, others with tears in their eyes.

There was no laughter, no treats, no fun costumes. Not even tricks. Just suffocating depression all around.

So, he didn't really associate the celebration with something to celebrate: what, celebrating the deaths of your family? That was quite morbid, when he thought about it, and he wasn't going to dedicate an entire month every year to remind himself of death with so many other operators around him falling on the battlefield, and having had faced the grim reaper himself several times already.

Hence, every 31st of October, he did nothing. Didn't acknowledge it at all.

But all that changed one fateful day in September. When he finally acknowledged it, all right (with a little of your help of course)!

You had asked König in passing if he had considered dressing up as something for Halloween. Maybe what he had considered doing on the evening. Or if he had plans to attend the autumn fair sometime soon.

His response? A blank look. Distant recognition.

For a quiet moment, you thought he was scowling at you, silently ridiculing your childish suggestion.

Then: "Halloween? Ah!" An amused chuckle, endeared by the child-like curiosity in your eyes, and a silent sigh of relief from you.

"I don't celebrate it, myself, meine liebe. But you're welcome to tell me what your costume is. I'd love to hear all about it, maus."

Mortified by this revelation, you couldn't let this go.

"What do you mean you "don't celebrate it"? You have got to be joking!"

Wide eyes, and jaw agape, you were in disbelief.

He simply shook his head with a strained smile. "I've just never seen it as something to celebrate, you know? No reason to."

Taking it upon yourself to prove him wrong, you wasted no time converting this skeptic into a believer. "Oh no, there is. I mean, it's Halloween! Everyone is crazy for it!"

Suddenly, your eyes lit up. A wave of adrenaline crashing into you, you tugged König's arm in direction of the couch.

"That's where we'll start! We're gonna watch Halloween! That'll surely get you in the spirit."

You winked at him, satisfied. Then, a sudden snort and a suppressed chortle, hand cupped over your mouth as you laughed at your pathetic attempt at a joke.

König cocked his head to the side in confusion, but let you hastily scramble for blankets, pillows, and to microwave bowls of popcorn, as he made himself comfortable on the couch cushions that sank in protest under his weight.

Initially, he was reluctant. Not necessarily looking forward to being forced to watch movies from the 80s–00s, over-the-top movies with subpar acting, to say that he was looking forward to it would have been a stretch.

However, seeing how passionate you were about the holiday, your interests, König didn't want your sweetness sour.

Yes, he was a little older than you, and perhaps didn't grasp what there was to fuss over, but he wasn't about to spoil your good mood, or dampen that excitement just because he didn't personally understand or was interested personally. He wanted to make an effort, for you.

Vowing to take part in your silly shenanigans, he swore to become involved in the festivities in order to see you smile. To keep seeing you smiling.

After that, every October evening you'd watch a movie — a (usually) corny horror classic, though spending most nights binging all the Screams, Halloweens, Chuckys, The Shinings, Saws, and Evil Deads, — huddled under moutains of blankets and stuffing your faces with toffee-flavoured popcorn.

Watching horror films with him was like being lectured on common-sense and taught self-defence lessons in real time, though. Not like you minded, but it really got rid of the edge and the tension in its entirety.

Instead of paying attention to the storyline, it's more likely König would catch on to the stupid decisions the characters and the shitty attempts to fight back, and he wouldn't be able to help commenting:

"Why did she leave the knife in him? In his abdomen, of all places? Now the murderer has a weapon! Should have taken it out and left him to bleed out. But noooo, nein, leave the knife there."

"Going into the forest on his own? In the night? With a killer on the loose? Mein Gott, he is such a dummkopf! Bring a friend, why don't you?"

"Liebling, why is there so much gore? Isn't this rated "15"? Wait, and why is there a lady with no shirt? This is supposed to be scary, ja? I'm very scared. Scared you'll slap me, actually, if I don't keep looking at my lap."

Angrily ranting at the television, you'd gently reassure him, that, "Sweetie, this is fiction. Sometimes, the scenes are unrealistic." "But it said "based on real events"! I swear, liebling, if I watch another ten minutes of this I'll have a headache. I can't comprehend the stupidness."

Tough crowd, that couldn't really immerse himself in the plot, but you took a note or two for the sorts of horror movies König wouldn't dislike.

Although he insulted all the characters for being stupid and ridiculed all the characters for being so brainless, he would begrudgingly admit that he enjoyed the movie, pointing out some of his favourite scenes.

Self-aware comedic slashers meant he could suspend disbelief and laugh out loud a little, while, movies with an omnipotent monster meant he couldn't criticise any inaccuracies. He didn't winge at those as much in comparison to major blockbuster films. In fact, he even preferred low budget movies, ones that were pure comedic relief and so self-aware that he wouldn't be able to help but laugh along, unable to hide his amusement.

Afterwards, at exactly midnight, you'd be huddled together in the dark under a thick blanket, gorging your mouth with sugary sweets and bite-size chocolates (also indulging in chocolates that were far from bite-size), giggling like lunatics (well, that was mostly you, but König joined in to keep you company).

Later, face serious, with a torch under your chin, you'd be whispering hushedly with a tone of foreboding, voice low, and words ominous:

"Drip. Drip. Dripping water. She had checked the bathroom taps, the kitchen taps, and they were twisted tightly closed. A leakage, perhaps? Or, perhaps, something else. As she roamed the corridor, the drip-drip-drip of liquid grew louder. And louder—"

"Ah, she should call her plumber, then, shouldn't she?" A sure shit-eating smirk that was obscured by his mask, but the way his eyes were squinting you knew he was taking the piss.

Of course, storytelling was not as haunting as you would have had liked it to be: König would interject, interrupting the aura of mystery and the medatitive atmosphere, with sarcastic remarks. It made the narrations really melodramatic in the end, and frustrated you to no end.

Still, you would groan, and, undaunted by his immature antics — as, mind you, this was a grown-ass man, a 6'10 wall of muscle messing around like this, teasing you not like the cocky Colonel he was but a snarky teenage boy — continue:

"—she walked on — despite having been rudely interrupted moments prior — and her heart sank. Blood. A puddle of it, on the floor, looking like gallons upon gallons of it had—"

"Maybe she was — ah, what's the word?" A thoughtful pause, hand where his chin was under the fabric "— menustrating? Was she wearing white pants, maybe?"

"—Menstruating, König — and stop ruining my horror narration! Now I've lost the plot! Okay — against her will, her eyes moved up the wall, following the dripping blood. To her horror, it was coming from the attic. Swallowing the heavy lump in her throat, she pulled open the hatch with jittering fingers, grip slackened by the warm sweat on her palms, knees threatening to buckle. And, when the trap door released, she gasped. Blood draining her face, she saw—"

An exaggerated gasp from König, as he clasped his hands over his mouth in mock shock. "She— she saw— your mother! Mein Gott, the horror!"

"Shut up, König!" An annoyed huff, and shuffling away. "Honestly, you're such a killjoy..."

König, scooping you into his arms when you turned around with crossed arms, pouting lips, and furrowed brows, nuzzed his masked face into your neck, chuckling heartily. You squirmed under his hold, fabric tickling your sensitive neck, and you'd desperately hold back your giggles, trying hard to keep a straight face.

"Ja, ja, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Es tut mir leid, meine Liebe. Please keep going. What did she find in the attic?"

"No! You made me forget the grand reveal, now! I forgot what was up there, anyways..."

Walking around the house, you'd have the fright of your life when a huge shadow would jump in front of you at odd hours of the day.

"Boo!" König's voice resounded, loud and reverberating.

And you screamed, damn near verging on a heart attack.

"Shoving" him in frustration — you became actually even more frustrated when the man was like a solid wall and did not even budge a millimetre — König was quick to console you.

Doting over you, a wide smile on his face that the mask couldn't hide, he would be so overly lovey-dovey with you in an attempt to win back your affection that you'd roll yours eyes so far they'd end up in the back of your head.

"Meine liebe, I'm sorry for scaring you. I couldn't resist. You'll forgive me, won't you? You will, right? Please say yes."

You insisted you would, seemingly unassuming, then schemed to startle him at odd hours of the night as payback for losing your dignity in that moment.

At one point, you had even waited half an hour in the wardrobe while he was showering, only to jump out and see König in only a towel.

Yeah, you were the one that got jumpscared instead, face erupting in red despite you two being together for months at that point. You gave up trying to spook him then, bitterly accepting defeat.

Though, going along with your silly little activities, like going shopping for Halloween decorations, made König's heart swell seeing you bounce around excitedly and point out all the ornaments.

He didn't quite consent to you buying a life-size skeleton to call him Greg and place him in your shared bedroom. That was one step too far.

Still, seeing the wonder on your face, in awe of all the masks, costumes, decorations, and animated mannequins that'd cackle after triggering their mechanisms made his steel-blue eyes soften, melting into pure love and devotion for you.

So, to humour you one day, and to lift your mood after scaring you that one morning, König made two eye-holes in a white blanket, running after you around the house, almost tripping over it in his haste.

"Ooooo-ooo!" he moaned in over-dramatised agony, voice low yet playful. "This is not König, but his ghooost! Run, liebling, or you'll be neeext!"

Hearing him say that in his Austrian accent was so hilarious that were tears running down your cheeks from how hard you'd be laughing, and your sides splitting with the laughter, struggling scramble away, giggling.

Those moans of agony would become genuine cries in pain when he'd accidently hit his head on the doorframe when he forgot to duck in his excitement. The one time that bulky helmet of his could have come to use.

Despite all that, you'd be cornered against the wall, with nowhere to run, and König would pounce, tickling your sides viciously.

That broad smile on your face and the expression was worth fooling around and making a fool of himself.

He even didn't mind having you coo over his "injury" just like how he had when he was doting over you, because he loved you so much.

And, he loved you so much, that he even allowed you to "decorate" his gear. "To make it appropriate for the spooky season!" you had insisted, and he'd comply, not wanting to dull that sparkle in your eyes.

So contented with painting an intricate monster on his mask with fluorescent orange paint, you didn't notice König watching you hunched over the desk from behind, leaning against the doorframe with a loving smile on his face.

You hadn't expected that he'd wear that gear on base — veil, knee pads, helmet, and all — strutting his stuff. Just to remind everyone that their Colonel had a lovely spouse back home.

What you hadn't anticipated was how quickly König would start enjoying the season. Unexpectedly, he became obsessed with Halloween — his favourite tradition, second only to Christmas.

Carveling hollowed-out pumpkins of all shapes and sizes was one of his favourite past-times.

You'd think that with his size he'd struggle to cut through the orange crust without crushing it into pumpkin-coloured mush in his fists, but you'd be forgetting that he was skilled with a knife.

That said, König wasn't artistic. At all. The best he could produce would be a lopsided smiling caricature of... something. A nondescript creature, which you had complimented him on being so cute, only for him to angrily insist that it was an evil monster, and not cute at all.

Still, you would snap a picture before he could object, and give this pumpkin the spotlight on your front porch, soon many more following suit. Jack'o'lanterns illuminating your front step, glowing gold.

The sweet scent of cinnamon, ginger, and vanilla extract filled your house, new freshly-baked treats from the oven laid out on the kitchen island daily.

Delicious aroma of sugary pastry, homemade banana bread with small hints of vanilla and sprinkled with icing sugar, candied oranges and sour, sherbet lemon cakes, crunchy cinnamon sugar pumpkin seeds ("Made from the pumpkin guts!" you exclaimed with a smile of pride, König's eyes smiling in delight of your enthusiasm).

Crumbly shortbread in the shape skulls and bats, round cookies with orange and black icing resembling pumpkins, sponge cakes that oozed thick raspberry and strawberry jam when you bit into them ("Because they were bleeding blood," you proclaimed, a devilish smirk on your face — or, something like it, as to König you were the cutest angel he'd had ever been blessed to be around), and so, so, so much more.

So much that your weekly trips to the supermarket became biweekly, until you two found yourselves stocking up on sugar, flour, eggs, and butter far too often to keep track of.

The house was so inviting, especially to little ones from the neighbourd, that their mouths were agape and their eyes sparkled as they passed your "haunted house", holding the hands of their parent(s).

Mentioned in an earlier post that König has a soft spot for children, he'd stock up on Halloween candy and treats, and lug bucketfuls of sweets on the doorstep for any little ones that'd knock on your door to cheerfully cry out in unison, full of glee: "Trick or treat!"

He'd welcome them with open arms, but, with most of them being so little, they'd point with bulging eyes the giant on the doorstep, to be harshly reprimanded by their mothers and fathers for their ignorance and rudeness.

Few would say much after seeing König the giant, and after daring to scoop a handful of confectionary, bowing their heads and avoiding his eyes would mumble a shaky "...Th-thank you, s-sir—!"

One of them, however — a little girl with rosy cheeks donning white stockings and a gold tinsel halo — beamed brightly, albeit shyly, at König, thanking him for the treat and his generosity. An innocent, toothy smile that made her squint from how high it reached her eyes, her front baby teeth missing.

When she had her back turned to you two, she ran as fast as her chubby little legs could take her, and exclaimed, "Mommy! Mommy! That giant is a big and friendly one! A big, friendly giant. Can we go again, please? Please?"

It was only when you nudged König with your elbow, grinning, when she had skipped happily away, that he had realised he had tears in his eyes.

Moreover, maybe the memories König had of Halloween weren't so cheerful, or ones even worth remembering in the first place; after all, his childhood wasn't so cheerful. Joyless, and with little life.

But, with the way that Halloween was shaping up to be, he was already looking forward to the special celebration.

So full of life the you two were, you would laugh at the irony — animated and living the dream, while celebrating the day of the day. It brought you two to more laughter.

And, with you, König could make new ones, ones that you'd look back on fondly years from now, and those grueling months on deployment.

...

Note: Went off experience here for the beginning, guys🫡🫡 for the mowt part i have never celebrated Halloween😰 only a couple times in Poland, and once in England when i drank tomato juice and prwtended it was blood and i was a vampire🤪,

, but I Googled "Halloween in Austria" /Germany" to clarify whether I wasn't just speaking outta my ass and König here would have celebrated it differently to how I had in Poland 💀cuz, yknow, im not egocentric ajd the world doesnt celebrate things the same way Poles do 😘...

...And, no, I wasn't !☺️✨✨(... sort of😅... As far as I know, Germany has adopted the West's Halloween, ans theres pumpkin carving competitiomsn stuff, while Austria does indeed celebrate it slightly differently) .

Because I have no fuckijg idea of König's nationaloty anymore as it KEEOS CHANGING, I got the vest of both worlds 🥲🥲

Also been really busy guys😰😰😰by busy i mean stressing out ovee not writing then proceeding to NOT write bc im stressed❤️❤️🥰 you know jow it is!! 🤗(🔫) its ok tjo❤️(no it isnt) ill work tjis oit somejow🥹(no i wont im gonna kms) 🥰🥰

Have a very spooky halloween guys<3Feel bad foe those that are buying candy bc not onky is it smallwe than last uear but its more expensive 💔😟

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gyuswhore · 4 months

Text

Remembrance of Ice

"Fear does anything but land with precision."

PAIRING: ice king!xu minghao x fem spy!reader

SYNOPSIS: Xu Minghao rules over a land where the sun never rises and crops never grow, shunned by the world for their nature so ruthless it has them caged within their borders.

That is, until you land straight into the dragon's den to find the story untold.

CONTAINS: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, kinda lore heavy, reader and minghao are in a perpetual spat, talks of military and political power, manipulation (not by minghao), ft. chan

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

masterlist

[AN]: MIKA DAY MIKA DAY MIKA DAY except im a day late bc I don't know how to time manage ANYWAY mika my love I hope you enjoy this you mentioned villain hao that one time and I stuck to it praying this is good ksjgnvrkjgn @toruro

id love to turn this into a longer, more detailed fic in the future, I really like this concept and theres loads more I could do with it. lmk if you'd like to see it hehe

edit: had to repost a couple times cuz it wasn't showing in the tags. it still isn't but idc anymore if this only reaches mika then so be it sgnkrtjg

The cold was the worst.

Your iced pride had been swallowed down to accept the flimsy cloth the guards that pushed you into this stone dungeon had given you. Not that it was doing much to help you, the thin fabric acting as more of a permeable layer than your gear.

Huddling into yourself, you breathe out warm exhales in the hopes that it’d do something about the face you couldn’t feel anymore. With the sight of your discolouring fingernails, you hope the people in this wretched place would decide what they wanted to do with you before you succumbed to the cold. There’s a bad taste in your mouth at the thought of dying a death like this – that the cold would become your ultimate demise.

The croning of the metal doors of your prison wrench open in what feels like a deafening sound, the screech having you throw the flimsy blanket off your body in haste. You would not be seen taking advantage of their supposed kindness.

The two guards that trudge in are quick to tell you to stand. You nearly laugh at the prospect of doing anything they ask.

“What do you want?” your voice has eroded to a brassy sound.

“Stand up,” the guard repeats, his face covered in the black balaclava that wraps around everything but spares his eyes. Cold, dark, soulless.

Your pride screamed to refute. But you were at a dead end, and perhaps it was time to accept it. Eyeing the weapons strapped to both their waists, moreso the lack thereof of your own, you make the first attempt to pull yourself up. It’s difficult, you find, needing a moment to regain your senses before pushing up completely. You tried not to show it, not wanting to look weak in front of the very people you need to show strength.

“Hands,” the other guard gruffs out.

You hesitate before bringing your shivering wrists forward, cursing yourself for not being able to control your own body. The cuffs they bind to your wrists are somehow even colder, and you have to consciously bite back a cursed wince.

Your resolve begins to truly thin when you struggle to simply take a few steps forward, the muscles in your legs frozen like everything else in the room. You manage to not fall. A commendable feat when your goals went from overtaking a couple of (very armed) guards to simply not falling over like a newborn fawn.

You feel them lightly shove you out the gates, something you should not have struggled to recover from from, but alas, you can only grit your already ground teeth as you try to not tip over entirely. The halls of the dungeons are made of the same gray concrete as your cell, the tight corridor leading you out into an only slightly larger hall with a single door at the seemingly dead end.

The large brass handle with the distinct reptile circling its expanse stares at you. You are forced to consider the idea that these may be your final breaths.

One of the guards squeezes out into the hall and approaches the door, three sharp knocks to the wood before you hear a muffled “come in.”

Your feet remain planted to the floor as you feel another push of the guard that remains behind you, urging you forward as the other one stands at the door, expecting you to walk inside. Perhaps some would classify this as a moment of weakness, especially when all you’ve been taught is to face death with anything but fear. But it seeps into your bones regardless.

You wonder if all those stories you were told of fearless soldiers and sheilds of humans were as lionhearted in their final moments as the storytellers claimed, as brave as the legends that followed.

You considered yourself one of the best in your field, most of your peers agreed. And yet, that moment of hesitancy in the face of potential death caged you in an unimaginable retaliance. What on Earth was wrong with you?

And so you moved forward, one foot in front of the other with resilience fueled by pure outrage at your own feeble mind. You would do as you were taught, you would march into the mouth of the dragon because you were not allowed to fear death. You refused to meet your end as a coward.

The cuffs that encase your wrists burn at the skin as you walk into the room. It’s small, small enough to force you and the two guards to shift closer to keep from the man that stands across the room.

You almost don’t notice him, which alarms you immensely. Regardless of the stark black attire that matches the dark, gloomy atmosphere of the tiny room, the man seems to blend into the shadows, becoming part of the walls. His back faces you as he looks out the window, like he’s invigorated with the snow that drifts to the earth.

It’s nighttime. It’s always night time here.

“The prisoner, sire,” the one in your left gruffs out.

The man at the window turns to face you, the sight of his face causing you to bite back a gasp.

His skin is the same colour as the snowflakes that fall behind him, near glistening white. It seems to make every other feature of his face stand out in earnest; the black of his eyes, the crimson of his lips, the dark of his hair.

He’s gorgeous, you decide, but you also decide that you may be about to die at his hands.

There’s also the matter of how he was addressed by the goons that flank you. Unless sire means something else in this godforsaken land, you should have realized who this is by now.

Xu Minghao’s expression remains unchanged, the mild disinterest evident as he barely glances at you before taking a seat at the makeshift office area in the middle of the room. He leans back against the plush, finally regarding the other people in the room with words.

“You can leave.”

You hear the guards begin to file out the room.

“Ah—take off the restraints before you go. And shut the door.”

You want to describe what his voice sounds like, and while indifferent to another, it’s like a million icicles plunging into your eardrums. It isn’t until the guard blocks your view to unlock you that you realize how strained your eyes were, like it was draining to simply look at him.

When both guards have left the vicinity, doors closed with a deep thud, you set yourself in steel. Just because he was about to kill you didn't mean you were about to make it easy for him.

You wonder why a king was meddling to discard a mere enemy officer, but if you knew anything of their bloodthirst, this was a form of amusement.

“Well?” you say, your voice still bare-there.

“Take a seat.” He means the lone chair that stands on your side of the table.

“No,”

His eyebrows shoot up, “No?”

You stare at him, and it's the first time he’s looked at you for more than three seconds.

“No,” you reiterate. “If you’d like to eliminate me, I’d suggest we cut to the chase. I don’t want your bleak hospitality.”

“Are you offering your head?”

“I’m asking you to quit the niceties. We know what you are.”

He studies you for a moment before continuing quietly, “Who is we?”

Your jaw is set as you calm yourself down, “The people who keep coming into your barren lands, only to never return. My people.”

“Your people that keep invading this barren land, only to find out that actions have consequences?”

“The mere thought of us is a consequence for you vermin,” you spit.

“Your people, you had said?” There’s a strange hint of jest in his voice, and it only infuriates you even more.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“Your people who have not once attempted to negotiate your release from us vermin, I thought your people were known for your camaraderie. Especially for such an important soldier, do they truly consider you that disposable? ”

The low fester of embers had now ignited into a full flame, the rage becoming near indescribable. Aside from how heinous, you had underestimated how infuriating his kind could be.

“You know nothing of me!” your voice is loud, your own shade of venom that laces your tongue.

And then he says your name.

You falter.

He shouldn’t know that. You don’t have a nametag, nothing to identify you on any record, anywhere. And yet, you know what you’ve heard is your name that fell from his lips, undeniably so.

He continues with the faintest sneer, “Captain of the SUN team, first in line from your peers for a promotion, and of course, right hand of your idiotic General of the Army.”

You can't be sure if you’re shivering from the cold or the rage that courses through every vein in your body. Perhaps it was the latter as you feel your mind shortcircuit at the sight of his smug face.

And, of course, with the way you lunge.

It takes barely a second for your numb fingers to reach his pristine throat, curling with the need to rupture his airways beyond measure. It also takes him barely a second to step out of the way, causing you to thud into the table, fingers faltering as they grasp onto nothing.

The air is knocked out of your chest, and you don’t realize what’s happened. He’s quick, and you’re out of shape. He’s on the other side of the table, hands in his pockets as he stares at your weak attempts at regaining your bearings.

“This is the problem with your people. Why must your first response to any confrontation be to fight to the death?”

Leaping over the table, you attempt to corner him against the wall, only to find him leap over to the other side of the table when you advance, switching your initial spots. It might have even been laughable if you weren’t so heated, like children running around in circles in a lethal game of tag.

He takes advantage of yet another moment of weakness you’ve shown, pushing the separating table directly into you, forcing you back as you stumble to hit the window. The opening is just enough to fit your waist, with no room for your legs to leap back over, locked in at the sides of the table that effectively cages your body between wood and glass.

Your first instinct is to push the wretched thing back, but you realize very quickly that you can’t. It shouldn’t explain how he was able to cage you in a place like this, especially with his scrawny build. Unless he’s locked it in place somehow, you wouldn’t put it past him.

“What the fuck?” you gasp out to mostly yourself.

“You’ve weakened, little soldier. I heard you were better than this.”

“Let me go so I can prove it to you then,” you spit, still fruitlessly struggling against your prison.

“Had your chance,” he states, hands in his pockets, an eyebrow cocked. “Of course, fear does anything but land with precision. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“What makes you think I’m scared of you?”

“Oh, you are such a simpleton,” he narrows his eyes.

“You haven’t been talking about anything of substance for someone who doesn’t claim to be scared. What’s holding you?” you gruff.

He stares for a moment like he’s studying you. For some reason, your struggling falters, his piercing gaze leaving you wondering what he had up his sleeve.

“You know you are weak. Your strength isn’t nearly where it had been when you arrived. I’ve also been told you’ve been starving yourself.”

“I said I don’t want your hospitality!”

“You were supposedly indifferent to everyone in the room, including the guards, but you kept your eyes on me like a hawk. The first mention out your mouth was of death.”

“Was I supposed to expect compassion?” you mock, but the desperation lingers in your voice.

“Can’t be helping knowing nobody is looking for you,” he finishes.

“Because you would’ve sent me on my way home if they were? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Quite right, yes.”

“Like you did with the other soldiers that seemingly disappear in your lands?”

“Nobody asked, so we did not deliver.”

“Lies!” It comes out as a near scream.

You think of all the stretched months that turned into inevitable years trying to retrieve your lost manpower. Of course, your higher-ups asked for hostage negotiations, did everything in their power to bring them home.

Fitting for the man in front of you to deny it, but infuriating nonetheless.

“And you’re wildly defensive,” he sighs. “You’re scared. Of being in enemy territory, of dying, of being alone. One or the other, that’s for you to decide.”

You want to scream again.

“They lied to you, soldier. And I may be a villain in your self-written history books, but you will come to know of the harsh truth, from me or anybody else. You should know what exactly it is that you’re fighting for.”

“What are you yapping about?”

He turns back around, moving to the door before rapping a knock. The guards re-enter the room.

“Take her to base.”

“Chan?”

He stands at the entrance of the tent, speaking to somebody in armor with a solemn expression. He turns around at the sound of his name, catching sight of you walking up.

He breaks out into a smile at the sight of you, eyes going wide as he excuses himself to sprint over. You’re not quite sure if the fatigue is causing you to hallucinate, but with the way his face becomes clearer with every step he takes, you have to convince yourself that you’re not.

As appropriate as it is to slam into him in a hug, considering you thought he was dead mere seconds ago, you can’t see yourself caring.

“They told me it was you that arrived,” he says.

“Oh my god, I thought you were dead. Everybody thought you were dead. How are you here?” you breathe into his ear.

He pulls away slowly, and you note how he doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Chan?”

“There’s a lot to unpack here. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

A lot to unpack there was, you realize, as the guards leave you with Chan when said to. The questions doubled when you entered the significantly warmer tent to find it swarming with familiar faces, busy working on tables littered with charts and papers, military symbols drifting overhead.

Chan is quick to let you know that none of the ‘fallen’ soldiers were missing at all. In fact, were stationed here at this military base.

Your gaping mouth renders no response as he fishes you both through the hustle and bustle of the industrial canopies, destination unknown. As much as you’d kick yourself for your lack of vigilance, you find yourself trusting him to take you wherever, your mind preoccupied with trying to absorb every detail of your environment.

If this was what sensory overload was, you’re not sure you like it blocking your thinking capabilities this much.

He lets you into another tent, littered with trunks and equipment, lit with a couple hardworking oil lamps. He goes to rummaging in random trunks as you watch.

“What is this place?”

“Inventory. Clothes and a bunch of other stuff,” he says as he throws you a pile of fabric. “Here, change into this, it’s warmer.”

He leaves you alone in the tent to change, which you do quickly to meet him again outside. Moving the flap of the tent away, you find him out in the snow waiting.

It isn’t until you’ve adequately cornered him that you can ask. “Chan, are being held here against your will? Is everybody here—”

“Wait, hold,” he holds a hand up to silence you. “Just—let me explain.”

You’re rendered silent in a corner of this base camp, albeit a little warmer than when you came in with the effective coat you’re now shrouded in. Other than being lost in a mine of confusion, you notice the calculated expression on Chan’s face when you bring it up. Like he didn’t know how you’d react.

“There’s been a lot of lies our entire life. One’s that we didn’t realize till we landed here,” he starts, facing the endless plane of snow to the East.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” you ask, keeping your eyes steady on him.

“These people aren’t cruel, nor are they the animals we’ve been told they are,”

“Chan, what is wrong with you?” you take a step back in mild exasperation.

“Listen, this sounds insane, but it’s only because we’ve been brought up to believe anything the government told us, anything our superiors drilled into our heads. I’d started having doubts while we were still home—”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Nobody wanted to tell you anything. You were more loyal to the General than you were to yourself!”

“I—because…” you falter. He was right.

“They’ve taken advantage of the way this land refuses to retaliate. We’ve been in the wrong this whole time.”

“I don’t know what it is that they’ve been feeding you for so long, but this isn’t the Chan that left home all those months ago.”

“You’re right,” you hear, but it’s not Chan.

Whipping your head around, you find the overlord himself walking to where you were.

“Apologies for interrupting, but I think you’re needed back there, Chan,” Minghao informs him as he regards him.

You whip back around to Chan, “Wait, you can’t just—”

“Listen, it’s going to take you a little bit, but I promise you’ll see what I mean,” he reiterates.

“This is absurd—” you start again but are cut off by him again. He lurches forward, grasping both your wrists in his, forcing you to pay attention to him.

“Do you trust me?”

“W-what?”

“Answer the question. Do you trust me?”

You stare at him, stumped for a moment. Did you trust him? Five months ago, before he left, you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. Yet, now you find yourself hesitating.

“Yes. I trust you,” you decide out loud.

“Then give it time. You’re shaken, you’re exhausted, you’re confused. You’ll make your decision yourself when you see for yourself.”

He watches your shoulders droop ever so slightly, a clear sign of your surrender. “Fine.”

“Good.”

You turn back to find the other man long gone, the vast expanse of snow and darkness engulfing the plane that leads to the congregation of tents. Chan begins to lead you back, mumbling about how he needs to get back inside.

It’s during your trudge that you realize there’s something that still bugs you, supposing you’d get your answer if you asked him.

“What’s the king doing meddling in military bases and war prisoners?” you begrudgingly ask.

“He’s very… hands-on, I guess. He cares about what happens around here, his land, his people.”

“Like a normal ruler?” you mumble in annoyance.

“When was the last time you saw the General leave his office?”

You haven’t.

A month. That’s how long you’ve been at this base camp.

Enlightenment may be an understatement to what this place is giving you, absurdities that they call the truth. Absurdities, as you may have called them a moon ago.

This barren country did not have a military, you were told. These makeshift headquarters were made to keep up with the endless external aggressions from the other side.

“They’re all people given the choice to stay. We needed the manpower. Military precision was never our forte,” Minghao explains.

You hate how he has an answer to every critical question of yours, how you’ve gone past thinking this was some elaborate, well-thought-out story to put your guard down, to put everyone’s guard down.

Sitting at this wooden table with maps and charts littering the surface, he looks you down from the other end. Chan remains silent next to you, knowing that if you asked, he would’ve given you the same response.

“So you’re trying to build an army? To what, retaliate?” Your arms remain crossed over your middle.

“We cannot retaliate,” Chan says.

“The difference in military power is too much, anyway. We can’t fight something that fights us in different ways,” Minghao finishes. He looks stressed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You watch him drag a chair to sit down.

The majority of camp was resting for the day, leaving the base relatively empty save for the three of you.

“Different ways?” you question.

You watch him close his eyes, running a hand over his face. “Chan, you told me she was smart.”

“She’s having a harder time adjusting than I thought she would,” he chuckles humourlessly in response.

“Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to take another month to figure it out on my own?” you snap.

“What have you been told about our borders? Why is this land the way that it is,” Minghao starts.

You don’t have an answer because you’ve never been told. The general was forever adamant that a land and its people were interconnected, that Minghao’s nation was as ruthless as the land itself was.

“What about what you thought?” he tries again.

“Nature’s weird, I don’t know,” you huff.

“You were so loyal to a man that had no rhyme to his reason. How blind did you have to be—”

“Keep to the question,” you monotone.

He exhales before continuing. “This land is the incarnation of balance. It might not look like it, but we play the most important role in making sure your nations remain stable.”

“Regular communities cannot survive in this weather, the livestock perishes, and crops cannot grow. Everything that makes humanity thrive remains absent here.” Minghao places his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “But it remains like this here so the rest of the world can foster humanity; that’s the purpose of this land.”

“A sacrifice of sorts,” Chan adds quietly.

“My land remains lifeless so others may thrive,” Minghao finishes.

“Why…why this land?” you question after a few beats.

He leans back against his chair, “I don’t know. Perhaps my ancestors were cursed. Perhaps this is just what this land was made to do. All I know is that my mother and father left me the job of ensuring this place is protected, as their mother and father taught them. All for the sake of keeping balance.”

It was wildly ironic that a place that was the definition of extreme was seemingly also harboring the balance to this world, but you found no jest in his words. You had also learned that it was the more unbelievable things here that would turn out to be most true, so you let yourself believe in whatever lore you had just unlocked.

“So you can’t retaliate,” you echo.

“Not if we wish to keep the peace, no.”

Chan chimes in this time, “This is all really just a misunderstanding that’s fallen into the wrong hands. The General’s a bloodthirsty fuck; this is just an excuse for him to retain power and satisfy all his sick fantasies.”

“How do we fix this then?” you dare to ask.

“We can’t,” Minghao says. “Not right now, at least. If we want to make a move, we have to grow as an entity. What your General doesn’t understand is how he’s feeding his own enemy whenever he sends some poor soldier our way.”

“That’s what everyone’s been working on. The SUN team is nearly complete with you here. We need to equip everyone here with skills more than anything,” Chan says.

“And then?”

“And then we let the General know who’s side we’re really on.”

Xu Minghao had a very peculiar way as King.

Other than remaining in the same bunkers as the rest of the population, you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone besides the guards address him as sovereign. He sat with everyone during mealtimes, spoke to everyone like a friend, yet remained the one in charge.

Over the months, you remained the last newcomer of the bunch, learning slowly but surely of your new truth. That was, until your sixth month.

It happened during breakfast, walking out into the dark sky to greet the person Minghao had told you was the newest aggravated prisoner. You knew her from headquarters, having seen her multiple times as she trained, but never learned her name. Her brows unfurrow slightly at the sight of you, recognizing you immediately.

You try to stay as others who remain familiar to the newcomer speak to her, adding where your credibility was due. You underestimated how difficult it would be, not because she was being frustrating, but because she was frustrated.

With every surge of exasperation she showed, every snarky remark to words of reason, you saw yourself. A strange, heavy feeling sets itself in your chest, making it difficult to speak, difficult to simply stand there as you watch her ideologies rendered as lies.

So you excuse yourself, moving out of the way into the snow you’d learned to make a confidant instead of an irritation. It wasn’t strange to find somebody contemplating alone in the snow, the constant darkness ready to keep everyone company.

You aren’t sure what it is that you want to contemplate, but simply sitting in the snow helps, allowing you to remain unstimulated. The weird feeling remained, but what also remained was your brain's inability to distinguish one from the other.

You don’t know how long you had been sitting there, but are aware of the lighter sheen of blue that the sky has turned into when you hear trudging behind you. You turn to find Minghao approaching, halting a foot away.

“Did you see the newcomer?” he asks.

“Yeah. They’re handling it, she’ll be fine.”

It falls silent once more. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t warmed up to the man in the past months, perhaps even enough to call yourself friends. Chan had quite the role to play in that.

He invites himself to sit next to you in the snow, letting out a deep exhale that fogs the air. “I wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You’re stumped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well…” he chortles. “You’ve been sitting here for a good three hours, so I only thought it was natural to assume.”

“It’s not good to assume.”

“And that you can’t be doing too well seeing the newcomer.”

“...Got me,” you whisper, still gazing into the far-off mountains.

“You can talk about it if you want,” he offers.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you sigh.

“Or is there too much to talk about?” he raises a brow.

You’ve turned to look at him at this point, making out his facial features with the low light of the lamps that burn in the distance.

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Know what I’m thinking about.”

“You’re easier to read than you think,” he chuckles. “Why? D’you think I’m reading your mind?”

“Seems like it sometimes.”

“Do you miss home?” he asks, albeit a little cautiously.

“I do. I miss what it meant to me. I don’t think I could go back and feel the same way, though,” you answer. If he was trying to get you to open up, he was succeeding.

“Why’s that?”

You snort, “Obvious, isn’t it? Can’t call a place full of lies home. I can’t believe I let them manipulate me to that extent.”

You think of the mental turmoil on the girl's face.

“It wasn’t your fault. You were doing what you taught.”

“Other people found holes in the story, though. They saw the beginnings of what was really happening. I was so blind, they couldn’t even try to talk me out of it.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself. It was the General’s job to be conniving. What use if his right hand could see through it. With how long it took you to come around, it only shows how dangerous he is.”

You remain silent as you absorb his words. There was truth to them, but you find it hard to dissolve it into your mindset.

“What matters is you're here now, that you chose the truth despite what you’d grown to learn.” He’s staring right at you when he says it, something you find as you look up to do the same.

There’s a lurch in your stomach, one that has your cheeks burning despite the temperature.

“How do you not hate any of these people? How do you not hate me? We’re the reason your people are so detested,” your voice comes out shaky, yet thick with a weird mix of emotions.

“I hate the ones that choose to be like this despite knowing what the truth is.”

“Like the General?”

“Like the General.”

It’s silent as you watch him gaze into your soul, an uncomfortable feeling yet one that stops you from looking away.

You want to kiss him.

The thought alone has you jumping in place, shaking off the way your body seems to have seized up. You move your knees away in blatant ignorance, looking at anything but his face.

“What?” he asks at your sudden change in behavior.

“Nothing!” you say, a little too loud to be considered casual.

“Why’d you move away?”

“I didn’t!” Of course, you realize how stupid you sound. You huff as you continue, “Just—I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what?”

“Goodness, you need to learn to drop things.”

“Not when it involves me,” he says.

“Who says it involves you?”

“Do we need to go over this again?”

You look at him in question, only to realize he could read you just as well as he could at any other instance.

“You’re not gonna like it,” you finally say.

“Try me.”

“Would you hate me if I said I wanted to kiss you?”

He pauses for an agonizing few moments, ones that make you feel like erupting into a ball of fire that could melt all the snow in the land. Your numb fingers fidget with each other, hating yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth.

Minghao uses his mouth in ways other than words when you feel it against your lips. It takes you a moment to realize what’s happening and another to let your body take control.

He’s kissing you so painfully slow it has you wondering if you’re imagining it, the feeling of his surprisingly warm lips on your frozen ones. You pull away for a moment, a question ringing in your mind.

“I’m not making a mistake, am I?” you breathe into his mouth.

“Absolutely not,” he says, diving back in with a force not present before.

You throw your arms around him in instinct to keep yourself from falling back onto the snow in his newfound enthusiasm. Not that you can find yourself complaining, especially not when his tongue prods against your bottom lip, urging you to open up for him.

You let him pull you closer, let him explore your mouth, let him hold you as you give yourself up to the feelings that now, after so long, have finally boiled over.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, remaining in each other’s arms as you gain your bearings.

“Figured it out, did you?” he asks with the slightest smirk.

Of course, with every passing instance that he’s reminded you of the mental walls you don’t seem to have with him, this was perhaps his end goal. You want to ask when he figured out you liked him before, wondering if he had known before you had in the first place.

He doesn’t let you, though, as his smiling lips meet yours again, chasing the feeling that's come forth after months of waiting.

You’ll find out the run down soon enough. For now, you give into him, believing in your ice-cold heart that Xu Minghao would never lie to you.

Taglist: @weird-bookworm @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #minghao #minghao fluff #minghao angst #minghao imagines #minghao x reader #the8 #em.writes

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weirdmageddon · 6 months

Text

long meditation on jade and dave's relationship - part 1

here's a three-part heavy homestuck meta. took me about 3 days to scrobble together and format and everything

part 2 part 3 cooking

i apologize in advance for the disorganization of my thoughts. after writing it i realized this is probably one of the clearest glances into how my mind thinks associatively so everything relates in some way to something else in here. the foundations for my thoughts might be invisible to others because they can’t see the connections ive built upon but you can probably see them here, and that strong foundation is also why i care so much about them and why i chose to lay it all out. sometimes i feel like i have Got to get this tangled associative web out of my head and into some form of writing so other people can be like, “oh so This is why you have so much to say” and can just. see into my head and where it all comes from for me. people have expressed interest and the general opinion tends to be that people like hearing my thoughts a lot so yeah. pov you are in my brainwebs. seatbelts everyone get on the magic school bus in that bitch

some time ago i saw this post i saw as i was going through florals jade tag again. my homestuck hyperfixation flared up again and ive been hyperfocused on dave and jade and particular just absolutely entering these monotropic black holes over them and turning them around at different angles and looking at discussions and what people thought both now and in the past and now that im older i can appreciate them even more. ive always been a fan of dave and jade both, but i cant even lie dave has my whole heart so maybe im biased as well. but i like to believe that regardless of my liking for dave and interest in not even x-ray scanning him just straight up 3D mri scanning him and rotating him in my head that my argument is still very reasonable. i just understand his psychology a lot

i want to preface this by saying i absolutely love floral and im so glad she’s on the hsbc team because i know she can do jade harley justice. one of the best jadesters fr. we all come into media analysis with different personal experiences and perspectives, and i understand this was from her perspective as someone who had run ins with dumb boys and relates a lot to jade which is why she can put so much love into her <3 i just found myself disagreeing with some of the arguments that she presented in that post just as a peer who also read the comic from my own perspective. keep in mind i also love jade to bits and want the best for her

so yea this isn’t a targeted post at all. it just got the juices flowing and inspired me to actually write my pre-existing thoughts down and i used it as a springboard for them

i think it ended up being pretty insightful overall especially because i was stoned as fuck writing it and ive come to realize being stoned amplifies and improves the output of my deeply inwardly associative thought processes tenfold. or maybe weed just changes how significant it feels. maybe a little of both

part 1: on using davesprite as a basis for interpreting jade's relationship with all daves

i love what hussie does with alternate versions of characters and. it’s one of the coolest things about homestuck’s characterization. like floral quoted:

… we see that Jack is a simple man, no matter what name he goes by. He is, if not much else (and he’s not), impatient and violent. We only got the briefest glimpse into these qualities when we were first introduced to him on Derse. But now we get to spend much more time with him, albeit in the form of a completely different character. This is another bit of sneaky utility provided by this intermission tangent. It serves as an arc to help indirectly characterize the villain of the early acts. Having multiple copies of a character operating in totally different circumstances turns out to be a great stealth characterization tactic, and it gets used much more aggressively later in the story. In fact, it proves to be inseparable from one of the story’s most essential themes. (Hussie’s Intermission commentary)

so i agree in principle and think the alt self thing is fucking brilliant

however, i disagree with the argument it’s supporting.

So, not the same character, but if switched, I would go out on a limb and say that Dave would experience all the same issues as Davesprite did, but without the “bird” part acting as an easy explanation. That doesn’t make Dave responsible but it does speak volumes to how their personalities respond to each other, insinuates that a relationship involving any Dave would end badly for Jade and that “Real” Dave indeed has Some Issues To Deal With.

i don't agree that dave and davesprite should be compared in this context. yes they are splinters of the same character and floral is right on the money in that canon deflecting the relationship failing on "bird issues" doesn't really explain anything meaningful, but i do not think its the case that all of jade’s relationships with dave are doomed to fail because of what we saw with jade and davesprite.

yes, if switched, dave strider would be practically identical to davesprite since they were the same exact person until a branch in the timeline

however, it's the unique things davesprite has been through that made him like this. davesprite has baggage that dave doesn't. a timeline where john was tricked into fighting his denizen early and died and jade couldn't get in on time and was presumably wiped out dinosaur style on earth. with alt future dave's year-worth of knowledge, gear, loot, and experience, he rescinded his player status and "realness" as a human person to be a game guide for his naive past self right before the timeline split in order for himself and his friends to continue existing.

that would mess anyone up mentally. it's no wonder he's jaded, no pun intended. he's depressed as shit and bitter and probably has trauma issues unrelated to his bro, though they do compound on it. yes they both experienced bro's abuse but i'm talking about the differences between alpha timeline dave and davesprite; right now im not going to talk about things that are the same about them prior to the timeline split because it applies to them both so it's redundant.

essentially what's setting them apart is their experiences playing sburb, their chronological age (alt future dave/davesprite had been making timeloops over a span of four months and he says that in total the time from his chronological perspective is close to a YEAR in sburb grinding shit out before he goes back), their relationship to their friends and how their friends see them and how they see themselves, their ontological natures as beings, what their purposes are.

davesprite had his ontological status as a person and purpose changed. he assumed he'd be the one playing and doing important main shit in the alpha timeline with all his friends but then it turns out that wasn't the case due to the events that went down in his timeline. and becoming a sprite solidly changed his degree of existence. davesprite's best friend john asking if he can talk to "the real dave" is when i think he realized just how fucked up his existence as a person has become despite him doing pretty much everything for everyone for nearly a YEAR before the alpha timeline was even able to get properly started. if davesprite didn’t exist, nobody would have (john needed to live to do ectobiology). davesprite knew this and weaponized it against john who john treated as a secondary, lesser dave. so of course he’s kind of an asshole. it’s like his efforts and sacrifices meant squat to the people he considered his best friends because they didn’t experience it. to john he just suddenly appeared from the future and became a sprite.

this is heavy shit for davesprite that alpha timeline dave does NOT have to go through and it did change him in ways that cannot be said about alpha timeline dave. this is not a universal dave experience. so while it’s true that dave has the capacity of act like davesprite under those exact circumstances, alpha timeline dave didn’t undergo those that led to davesprite’s more miserable traits. therefore i don’t think it’s fair to conflate jade’s failed relationship with davesprite in particular as informing of how most of jade and dave’s relationships would unfold, because davesprite has been in exceptionally tragic circumstances, coming to terms with the state of his own existence. the last thing davesprite needs is romance. alpha timeline dave does not carry this burden.

Everyone believed that what was creating the dissonance wasn’t a central part to Dave’s character but an aftereffect of Bird Syndrome. Which you can’t blame them for because there’s nothing that would lead them to think differently. Every character besides Dirk is completely in the dark about Bro’s abuse and Dave stated he’d probably never tell any of the Betas. Which is fine, no one’s owed to know somebody’s baggage. But when you don’t give people a means to understand what you’re going through, especially when it leads you to hurt them, its only inevitable everyone’s going to be confused and going to come to conclusions using what they do know.

rebuttal to this: as i said earlier i don’t buy the whole bird issues thing and i get the handwaviness about being fused with a bird being john’s explanation for davesprite’s bullshittery. however i think it’s important to mention that john and jade both question if becoming a sprite might have had something to do with his change.

being fused with a bird never bothered him, as jade says. it was all the other baggage that came with the prototyping.

this includes playing the game for way longer than anyone else and mindlessly grinding from the ground up for about a year, then turning himself into a game construct and having his ontological level of existence as the platonic ideal form of dave strider lowered in the eyes of his friends.

JOHN: like what? JADE: its hard to explain JADE: just some slight differences in personality i guess JOHN: he still raps sometimes. JADE: yes... JADE: so? JOHN: i just thought i would mention that. JADE: ok i will admit i cant really tell if his rapping style has changed JOHN: trust me, it hasn't. JADE: i dont know if the differences are because he is a sprite JADE: or because he lived for a while in a different timeline... (p.4733)

JOHN: why is he such a basket case? he's like regular dave, but like, aloof enigma edition. JOHN: maybe it's because he's part bird? i think becoming a bird and a sprite did something weird to him. JADE: i dont think being a bird ever bothered him JADE: like i said... its all more complicated than that JOHN: normal dave was so much more level headed. JOHN: i have to admit, i spend a lot of time wondering what he and rose are up to. JADE: me too JOHN: ehh... JOHN: maybe it's for the best he broke up with you. JADE: why? JOHN: well, what kind of future do you think you would have with him? JOHN: he's a sprite. like really, what even is a sprite? how long do they live? will he still be around if we win the new game we are allegedly trying to get to? JADE: i dont know (p.5294)

as for the bro abuse thing, i can’t tell if floral’s position here is that davesprite is fucked up and had a failed relationship with jade because of bro’s abuse, and that dave would also necessarily have failed relationships with jade because he had the same experiences and also doesn’t tell anybody? the wording there is kind of vague and can be interpreted in different ways but that’s how i interpreted it.

they are right that bro’s abuse is something dave keeps to himself. but remember that dave has also deluded himself about it to cope. he doesn’t know what to think of it himself. both alpha timeline dave and davesprite have this baggage, but we explore it more with alpha timeline dave.

i know dave said in the post-retcon timeline when having a conversation with dirk that he could never tell karkat all of this or any of the betas about his abuse. but i still find this pesterlog interesting and i want to put a spotlight on it. even while dave was still chugging that copium, jade was the person he was closest to opening up about the nature of his relationship to his bro at this point. remember this is quite early on in the comic and he didn’t have 3 years on the meteor to contemplate it yet when he said this to her, his bro had just died at this point

GG: anyway dave im really sorry about your bro/dad GG: you were pretty close with him right? TG: meh it was a pretty bizarre relationship by any standard TG: fightin off wave after wave of face pumicing puppet ass every day TG: always being on guard for stealth attacks in the middle of the night while getting up to go to the fucking bathroom GG: heheh TG: but i guess it all sorta amounted to some vague unspoken semblance of kinship TG: if thats a thing TG: like if honor among thieves is something then lets call it camaraderie among ironic rapping roof ninjas TG: but thanks GG: sure TG: i thought about taking his sword TG: when i was there TG: but i couldnt TG: couldnt really bring myself to try to pull it out it was too weird GG: dave we have to stop him!!!!! TG: what GG: jack! GG: he shouldnt get away with this TG: you think (p.3204)

even if he’s in denial about it, deciding to point out the positivity he can rationalize about it to avoid spending too much time thinking deeply about it (it makes him uncomfortable), he’s getting closer to acknowledging the truth here that shit wasn’t normal, about it being “bizarre” and you can tell hes being genuine here when he thanks jade for her concern about his loss

dave then continues talking about his thoughts/feelings on the situation after jade says “sure”, as if he took her concern as an invite to open up about his thoughts even when it’s something vulnerable for him that he tried putting on false bravado in front of terezi about. jade then abruptly changes topic to what’s to be practically done about these tragedies—dave was still on the topic of his bro and she changed the topic to jack noir without clarifying, hence he goes “what”

this is interesting because terezi tried to get something out of him about this and was met by riddly puzzlecock and false bravado but he’s pretty straight up about his current feelings with jade. basically it really depends on the person dave is talking to.

in this specific argument, floral approaches grimbark jade solely from the position of her being uninhibited which is true in many ways, but grimbark jade is also quite nefarious and not in her right mind. i think that even if jade were unihibited and spoke her mind, she wouldn’t have it in her push the mayor into lava to get dave to fight her. thats the evil. floral does acknowledge this in a separate post though, but it’s not really touched on in her argument im discussing. i also want to reiterate that even though it might seem like im violently ripping this post limb from limb its really just something to bounce my pre-existing thoughts off of. this is all written with civility towards and respect for floral

even roxy says something about this—that the schtick doesnt suit her. like it doesnt feel like something she’d have the natural capacity to really be without some external influence

ROXY: so alt grannydaughter english ROXY: whyre u part dog + evil lookin JADE: DO NOT CALL ME THAT!!! ROXY: what JADE: my surname is harley not english JADE: but you may refer to me as jade, or ma'am if you are feeling especially nervous and deferential JADE: which as it turns out is the way you should be feeling about me, ALWAYS >:B ROXY: LOL!!! JADE: lol WHAT ROXY: jade i am in no way buying that ur normally this pompous and tyrannical ROXY: the shtick rly doesnt suit you its so obvious (p.6291)

so i don’t think everything jade says here should be taken to heart about her real feelings or how she would express them if she was being genuine as her normal self. we know jade can get mad but i think we’re giving her evil possession a little too much credit

that’s why i was personally disappointed in grimbark jade when homestuck was ongoing, is it felt like it didnt really give us anything? it was like empty calories while just waiting for the regular jade to come back which she never did. it is interesting to look at in retrospect to see if there’s anything there but…grimbark jade isn't exactly a reliable narrator. i guess none of them are but like, especially not grimbark jade. if i can’t separate what’s genuinely jade under this mess from what isn’t then what’s the point?

like for example this was left out of floral’s argument when showing this part, but in the comic grimbark jade tells dave that he’s “more messed up inside than davesprite” …. right after dave wouldnt comply with her demands to fight her and doesnt want to fight lord english. that’s…not really telling about anything at all for either of them. jade is evil and if things dont go the way she’s programmed to get them to go she’s gonna flip her lid. this is what i mean about her not being in her right mind

JADE: the fact is youre going to have to rely on those powers if you want to stand any chance against a lord of time JADE: it is safe to expect he can only be challenged by someone with a similar command over the aspect DAVE: why is that safe to expect DAVE: where are all these presumptions coming from DAVE: if you can use swords why dont you take the welsh cueball sword and fight him yourself DAVE: i bet you could fuck him up DAVE: youre probably even more extra strong now that youve succumbed to the bark side DAVE: did you ever think about that JADE: dave i am perfectly aware of the awesome powers granted to me by the bark side JADE: it does not matter JADE: i cant be the one to wield your sword against english JADE: it has to be you JADE: it is the will of the empress, and thats final DAVE: the empress can suck it DAVE: i have no intention of fighting him DAVE: and this isnt even me pulling more lame self aware reluctant hero junk DAVE: i am just straight up not going to do it DAVE: see thats not reluctance its just petulant refusal on my part DAVE: reluctant hero shit is when the guys like aw shucks i dunno if i wanna but deep down we all know he really does DAVE: but i really dont DAVE: why should i DAVE: i dont give a damn about lord english or his nebulous atrocities out in nowherespace DAVE: what kind of villain is someone you never met who hardly did anything evil to you or your friends directly DAVE: or even to anyone in your universe for that matter other than through some vague insidious influence DAVE: who even is this guy and why should i hate him DAVE: am i really supposed to be pissed off at a green muscle monster i never met DAVE: cause i aint pissed off at no muscle monster DAVE: hell wasnt he in some ass backwards way responsible for us existing in the first place? DAVE: or all of humanity for that matter?? DAVE: maybe i should thank him before chopping him up via welshscalibur JADE: jeez you sure have some issues JADE: honestly it has become very tiresome listening to this sort of thing JADE: i thought davesprite had problems JADE: his issues i could kind of understand JADE: i thought you might be different, being the alpha dave and all JADE: but no JADE: you might be even more messed up inside than he was! DAVE: what DAVE: why are you dragging that guy into this (p.6385 / 6386)

part 2

#homestuck #homestuck meta #dave strider #jade harley #davejade #davesprite #hs #homestuck analysis

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ballcrusher74 · 2 months

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hello. are you. perhaps 👉👈 willing to talk about the inspector/faux. ive only seen cool arts and no context so im rather curious.

OK!!! I actually love rambling about my ocs so small questions like this make me day. I just get nervous LOL But! I will say, there's gonna probably be a bit I'm leaving out because it does involve my friends' characters and it's still an on-going thing atm (we tend to roleplay on lethal company as our guys. btw the oc group is called Cleanup Crew ! it explains the recent reblogs and new tags I've added on posts with this guy) AND this does also involve my own little interpretations of in-game mechanics and other things, but otherwise, I'll get the rest of him down!

Inspector, also originally known by the name of Terrance Conroy (or Terry), was a typical scavenger working under 'The Company' after a couple rough times on his home planet. (This information isn't necessarily set in stone, but the idea of him being a washed-up rock star before quitting his passion to get a job that pays his rent has been bouncing around in my brain.) He used to be a normal guy, trying to find a little hope in his desperate situation, and was a social butterfly. He tend to bounce from crew to crew, sometimes staying in some for only a couple days, and some for months. He was a very careful man, and looked out for his fellow crew members.

And then, one day, his first death on the job happens.

But instead of being greeted by a bright white light at the end of a tunnel, or complete pitch darkness, he appears on the ship again- completely physically fine.

This.. confuses him at first, yet he continues on.

And then he dies again. And again, and again. Over and over, the more deaths he's endured, the more he comes to a morbid realization that he can't truly die, nor can those around him. He tries to keep this truth hidden away from the others, as they seem to not have mentioned it at all before. He remembers everything. Every time he was ripped to shreds by an eyeless dog, every time he blew up into pieces from a landmine, every time he was shot multiple times, every time he was left behind or ejected as part of the disciplinary process- He felt it all and remembered it all. This goes on for the course of years (around 8-10 roughly) and over that course of time, he begins to grow very careless. What's the point of saving someone if they'll just come back? What's the use of tears when you're only a couple dollars off quota with a shovel in hand?

What's the point of it all? And with that carelessness comes selfishness into the picture. With how long he's been stuck in the cycle, he has become a very manipulative person, putting up a playful and nice persona on the outside- almost sickeningly sweet- in order to help other's do his bidding. He believes that if he were to cause so much chaos, disorder, and disruption within a crew, to where it's like animals mauling each other apart, he'd be able to break free from it himself. He doesn't care anymore about leaving others behind. He's desperate at this point to find a way out. Faux, who is an alter ego / disguise for Inspector, ties more into the on-going events right now, but I can give a basic rundown on his personality. He's a klutzy and quiet man, typically only talking to others when it's just him and them, and nobody else around, playing himself off as a selective mute. Since this is just Inspector in a jazzy little jester outfit, he still possesses all the traits of that man, just hidden away as to not blow his cover. He's still tugging on the strings in some way, people just don't realize. Sure, he's off putting and just a tad bit strange, but how can a goofy man like that be terrifying?

WOOOW ok that's a lot more typing than expected, but here's also a couple fun facts about the guy !

He stands at 6 feet and 1 inch, and is a very lanky guy compared to others, but this wasn't always the case. He used to just stand at 5 feet and 6 inches, and had more normal human proportions. With how many times he has died and how long it's been of the cycle, it has fucked up his appearance a LOT. Other things include : his 'skin' being grey, his voice constantly sounding like it's coming from a walkie talkie, no visible neck, his face becoming the helmet itself (it still bleeds, but there's nothing in there), and inhumanly flexible.

The only thing left of him that represents his last strand of humanity, is a singular, dim eye behind the tape on his visor.

He is very much not a rational man anymore. He is quick to jump to things, and won't hesitant with his actions.

When waiting to return from death, he is able to manifest in someone's head as a disembodied voice, and will typically mock them, or try and manipulate them further. In this state, he can see everything through the eyes of the person he's haunting. ^ Fun fact about this! This was originally based off a stupid bit where my friend was streaming LC to me with other buddies on the game and I kept telling them to step on landmines and then kill someone for a promotion, and then Inspector was born!

and UH I think that's about it I have for the guy atm! If the rest of the cleanup crew gets dropped than I'll update this accordingly perhaps. As of right now, enjoy my oc slop 👍

#lethal company #lethal company oc #oc #cleanup crew #that inspector that i hate #render

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phatm0th · 2 months

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Archie the Painslut

18+

heyy so i recently started the show The Great on hulu and even though i haven’t finished it yet (not even on season three yet) i really wanted to write about Archie. This was meant to be much shorter but i kept coming up with new ideas and it snowballed into this.

this is a plus size reader fic because im plus size and i say there aren’t enough of those out there. this is like, the second fic ive ever shared with the first one being on ao3. (i’ll post this one on ao3 soon) i feel like it could’ve been better but im still quite happy with the results. hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

tags: plus size!reader, priest kink, femdom, overstimulation, oral sex, nuns, riding, slapping, choking

You were enjoying your gig as a nun in the empress’s court so far. A month prior, Russia’s new ruler sent out a pamphlet encouraging women to join the church. Other parts of the world required quite a bit of work for a woman to become a nun, but this was Russia. You jumped at the opportunity, not wanting to be married off to one of the men in your village. All you had was a brief interview with Catherine The Great herself and secured your position as a nun. You truly enjoyed it, too. Food was nice, you had made a few friends, and it was quite a simple job. Celibacy got a little difficult, but self pleasure always helped. There was one thing though, one man, rather, that annoyed you to your core.

Well, most men of the court annoyed you, always either undressing you with their eyes or making jokes about your size. This particular man annoyed you in another way, though. Archie, the patriarch of Russia, wanted absolutely nothing to do with you. He regularly interacted with other members of the clergy, but you might as well have been invisible to him. He seemed pretty high strung the first time you met him. He offered you a curt, “Hello, pleasure to serve the lord with you,” or something, and not much else. When you passed in the halls, he looked straight ahead. If there was a risk of brushing up against you, he would walk in the opposite direction. There were plenty of people in the court that didn’t interact with you and you didn’t give a shit. The truth was, you really, really wanted him.

One night, at a party, you saw your friend, Marial, drinking and speaking with someone you couldn’t see. She saw you walking towards her and beckoned you forward, smiling. “There’s my favorite nun! Are you enjoying yourself?” she greeted. You nodded, slightly tipsy. Then you noticed, directly to Marial’s left was a stone cold sober Archie. “Oh. Hello Archie,” you mumbled. He stood up abruptly, “Hello. Must go,” he said, then quickly walked off. You sighed heavily, and plopped down onto the spot he was sitting. “What’s his fucking problem with me? You know, he’s barely said a word to me since I got here!” you slurred. Marial smirked and asked, “Is it not obvious?” She paused and stared at you as if waiting for you to give her your best guess. You lifted your shoulders in confusion. “He wants to fuck you!” she said with a laugh. “Very funny jape, Marial,” you lightly elbowed her. Her face became as serious as you had ever seen it. “I’m serious! And it is quite fucking obvious,” she gestured with her hand holding a drink to Archie, stood in a dark corner by himself, staring at you intensely. You locked eyes for a brief moment then he left his corner, disappearing into the crowd of drunk nobles.

Marial confided one other thing in you regarding Archie before the party ended. That being, he was very easy to tempt. He was slipping into his “old ways”, she said. And the only way he prevented himself from fucking his way through 70% of the court was self-flagellation. With that information, you hatched a plan.

Your plan commenced the very next morning and you woke much earlier than usual, hoping to catch him before the court grounds filled with people. On some mornings, Archie would have his too small breakfast in the garden on a bench. You managed to get your hands on an especially juicy peach, and you followed Archie to his place in the garden, careful to not be discovered. You waited a few moments for him to get comfortable and take a few bites of his food. “Beautiful day, Archie!” you said as you walked towards him. He choked on a mouthful of slightly burnt and very under-seasoned eggs. He swallowed thickly, trying to regain his composure. “Yes. As all things made by God are. Must you be so… energetic?” the irritation in his voice was apparent, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes drank you in, looking up and down your curvaceous form. You brought one arm up under your breasts, lifting them in a way you hoped was subtle but still seductive. You rested the other arm on top of that and brought the juicy peach to your lips.

“Do you like peaches, Archie?”

Before he could reply, you took a large bite of it, sighing in satisfaction as if it was the best peach you’d ever eaten. (it was) A bit of juice from it ran down your chin and onto your large breasts, staining your habit. Archie averted his eyes from your body, focused entirely on his food. You tossed the peach aside. “Oh, I have to do something about the mess I made,” you said, feigning concern. “Enjoy your morning!” You walked off, swaying your hips much more than necessary.

Phase two of your plan was to occur that afternoon. You watched Archie’s every move for the second time that day, and found yourself lying in wait like a predator hunting its prey. You stuck your head out of an empty room watching Archie walk down the hallway with one of his notebooks in hand. You waited until he got close enough and rushed right into him, “accidentally” knocking his notebook out of his hand. Several sheets of paper spilled out, one landing right under an end table next to the both of you. “I’m so sorry, Archie! Let me get that for you!” You got down on your hands and knees and arched your back, sticking your ass out as you reached under the table. You collected all the papers that had fallen around his feet and picked those up too, then presented them to him, still on your knees and staring up at him through your eyelashes. He shuddered quite violently and let out a harsh breath. Without a word, he snatched the papers from you and quickly walked off.

The third and final phase of your plan was that same evening. Catherine had planned a celebratory dinner for one successful month of introducing nuns in her court. You got there as early as possible, securing your seat right next to Archie. Before dinner began, Archie said a prayer to bless the food and you looked up at him from your seat, squeezing your thick thighs together. It was both meant to tease him and provide yourself with some much needed relief. You weren’t entirely sure if your plan would even work, but just the thought of finally fucking him was enough to make you wet and needy. He noticed and began stumbling over his words, clearing his throat. He managed to get through it though, and sat back down. A few minutes into the dinner, you rubbed your leg against Archie, lifting his robes slightly. He stopped eating and looked at you with a pathetic look in his eyes. He opened his mouth shakily but before he could say anything you stood up quickly and excused yourself from the table. Nobody seemed to give a fuck as everyone continued eating and having their hushed conversations. The only one that seemed to notice you spoke at all was Marial, giving you a knowing look.

You made your way to a completely empty room pretending to look busy with a vase of flowers. You were counting on Archie following you into it, but after a few minutes of waiting, you were beginning to believe he wouldn’t show. Maybe you should’ve explicitly said what you wanted. Maybe he just wasn’t attracted to you. Maybe he just really wanted to stay celibate. As your mind wandered, you didn’t notice the door close behind you.

You felt his presence when he was just a few inches behind you. His hands rested on your shoulders then slowly moved them to your tits as he started kneading them through your habit. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered harshly. Any other man would’ve gotten stabbed right in his cock for such a bold move but a wave of heat overtook you as you felt his breath hot against your ear. He sank his long fingers into your thick waist and gripped you roughly. You hoped it would bruise.

“Fucking finally, Archie.” You grabbed his forearms and ground your wide hips back onto his clothed, impossibly hard cock.

He started licking your ear and panting like a fucking dog. But before you could really get started you heard the empress call his name, likely wondering why he had disappeared from the dinner.

His perfect hands stopped groping you and he gasped as if waking from a trance. “This cannot happen!” he hissed, quickly prying himself from you. “Disgusting!” Before you could reply, he left you in the empty room. You weren’t sure if he was disgusted with himself or with you.

The next day was slow. You slept past breakfast and when you finally emerged from the bedroom you shared with another nun, the first thing you heard was some guard joking about you finally going on a diet. Any other day you would’ve had a comeback. Or a slap. Nothing today, though. You couldn’t even give him a dirty look. You just walked off.

You roamed the grounds, trying to find something to keep yourself busy but you to no avail. Archie found you disgusting. You faced rejection before but nothing ever stung this badly. Maybe it was because you had your hopes up this time? Marial herself told you how he felt about you, and she knew him better than anyone else did. Marial saw you walking alone, eyes downcast. She looked concerned as she walked towards you. You noticed and quickly walked off randomly turning corners of the palace until you believed you lost her.

You stood still, trying to catch your breath when you heard something strange. A shaky groan, muffled by the door you were standing in front of. Archie’s door. You held your breath and listened hard, thinking it might’ve been a groan of pain. He panted heavily, and let out a strained exhale of your name. You acted on impulse and discreetly opened the door.

There sat Archie at his desk, chair turned to the side so he could stretch out his legs. Cock in one hand, and a peach with one bite taken out of it in the other. He didn’t even notice you when he brought the peach to his mouth, licking into it as if it were a wet cunt. You thought he must’ve swiped it right after you tossed it yesterday.

A wave of heat overtook you and you slammed the door behind you and locked it. “I thought you found me disgusting,” you said, voice even. Archie jumped violently, but notably did not let go of himself. He looked at you guiltily and gave his cock a tight squeeze. His chest heaved as he worked his mouth, trying to speak. “It - it was not you I was disgusted with. It was me. I should not give in to my urges so easily, but every time I am around you I cannot control myself!” his voice rose on that last sentence as he broke away from your gaze, staring at the floor.

“Archie…” You didn’t know what to say. You decided instead that words wouldn’t be very effective anyway and decided to walk towards him. Your breasts heaved as you tried to even your breathing. You had never been this horny before, not even yesterday when you had Archie pressed against you. Before you realized it, you were looming directly above him, watching him subtly pulse his fist on his cock. Archie said, “As the patriarch, I really should not-“ SMACK. He let out a startled noise as your hand made a quickly brightening red mark on his face.

He looked up at you, panting, mouth agape as he wrenched his hand away from his cock. He dug his fingertips into the arms of his chair and furrowed his brow. You were worried you had taken it too far before he shot up out of his seat and pushed you backwards against the nearest wall. He gave you no time to speak - not that you were complaining - as he pressed his lips against yours. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth and you savored the taste of each other. You felt one of his long legs jam its way in between your thick thighs. He ground his leg onto your clothed pussy, feeling your wetness through three layers of clothing. His hands roamed every inch of you he could reach without breaking away from the kiss, as if he was trying to commit your shape to memory. You buried a fist in his long hair, yanking his head away from yours. He moaned harshly and dropped to his knees rather violently. His hands caressed your calves as he inched his nose closer and closer to your heat. He buried his face between your thighs, almost suffocating himself as he sniffed you through the thick fabric of your habit.

You pushed his head back and lifted the hem of the habit to your mouth, unwilling to wait another second. He gasped harshly and shook as he finally got a full view of what he had been fantasizing about for weeks. He lunged forward and sank his fingers into your plush thighs, trying to pull them apart so he could have his fill. He kissed your mons first, savoring the feel of the hair against his lips. He pushed his head even further, licking and biting at your already wet inner thighs like a man starved. You supposed he was starved in that regard. As much as you enjoyed his exploration of your lower half, he wasn’t licking where you needed it the most, and you were starting to get desperate. You decided to take matters into your own hands - there’d be time for his perverted licking and sniffing another day. “Archie!” you said with the fabric still clenched between your teeth. You roughly grabbed his hair and angled his head exactly where you wanted it. His mouth was right against your clit and he immediately put it to good use, licking one slow stripe along the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You heaved a breath of relief as he finally, finally started giving you what you needed. Archie moaned as he sucked your clit, the vibrations only doubling your pleasure. “It feels so good to finally give in, right Archie?” He pulled back to reply but you roughly shoved his face back where it belonged. He made a sound between a gasp and a whimper before going right back to servicing you. He moved his tongue from your clit to your pussy. His nose bumped your clit each time he moved his head, making you feel better than you thought possible. Your hips bucked, and you curled your fingers in his hair once again, trying to ground yourself.

After a bit of tonguefucking you, he replaced his tongue with one of his long, perfect fingers, and his mouth took its rightful place against your clit yet again. Pleasure shot through you like lightning as you felt his finger brush up against something you hadn’t known was there before. His assault on your gspot in combination with his relentless sucking of your clit made you dizzy almost. The sight of him almost made you cum. On his knees, one hand wrapped around his long cock and the other pleasuring you. His eyes were closed in bliss as he devoured you. You gripped his hair, forcing his head still as you ground your hips into his face. His eyes shot open and met yours. They were watery, and dilated. He somehow looked completely serene, but enraptured at the same time.

You had seen that look only once before. You followed him into the woods one day and watched him eat a berry. You watched him talk to God, watched him partake in the purest, most sacred form of worship he knew.

That was it. Once the realization dawned on you, you were cumming all over his hand and face before you knew it. You were loud and shaky, the hem of the robes shoved in your mouth did very little to muffle your voice. You pulled his hair so hard he was sure to have a headache in a few hours. He let out a few short grunts himself, eyes rolled into the back of his head and the hand on his cock finally stilled.

You let go of his hair and managed to relax the tense muscles in your body. He stood up on shaky legs, eyes wide as he watched you collect yourself. When your vision finally cleared you saw that he was still hard. “What the fuck?” you asked, panting. “I still want to fuck you. It took a great deal of effort to not cum just then but I managed to stave it off. I wanted to save it for something special.” You were still buzzing with oversensitivity, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to fuck him too.

You both made your way into his more than humble bedroom and you were finally able to take off your now dirty clothes. You faced each other, just admiring each other’s bodies for a few moments. You were finally able to take a good look at his cock. It was long and leaky, protruding around 7.5 inches from his skinny frame. Archie himself looked almost frightening. His head was tilted slightly downward, pupils blown, chest heaving from excitement. (?) He wore a wide grin as he drank you in, eyes lingering on your tits. You almost wanted to ask him if he was okay, but then he embraced you, jamming his tongue in your mouth and groping you yet again. He broke the kiss just as fast as he started it, saying, “I want you on top. Please.”

Archie was much taller than you, but you weren’t sure how strong he was. What if you hurt him?

Oh. Right.

You lightly pushed his chest, encouraging him to get on his bed. He quickly sat on the bed and you followed, climbing into his lap. You stood on your knees, slightly towering over him as you leaned down to kiss him again. “Sit,” he all but demanded. You could not deny him. And you were eager to see his reaction to your weight on top of him.

You sat in his lap, finally resting your weight on top of him in the way he’d been so eager for since he first laid eyes on you. Well, not quite. He wanted you on his face, but he was too eager to fuck you, so this would have to do. He placed his hands on your ass, kneading the cheeks apart, admiring your softness. You moaned and ground down onto his cock impatiently. Archie wouldn’t budge, too focused on kissing you and feeling you up. You lifted your hips, much to his chagrin, to guide his cock inside your eager cunt yourself. He let out a harsh exhale as if he had been punched in the gut. You breathed shakily, surprised at yourself for taking all of him at once like that.

Archie buried his face into your neck, whimpering. You didn’t move just yet, trying to adjust to the stretch of him. You occasionally clenched, liking the effect it had on a desperate Archie. You were ready to move after a bit, and you lifted your hips just once to test the waters, pulling him out almost completely before slamming back down onto his lap. You leaned back so you could get a good look at his face as you began grinding yourself on his cock. He was biting his bottom lip so hard he drew a bit of blood. His eyes rolled back in his head as shaky, high-pitched noises escaped him.

“Archie,” you said, an idea forming. He didn’t notice. “Archie.” you said again. Your hips stilled, and that seemed to rouse him from whatever high he was chasing, but then you slapped him. Hard. To make sure he was paying attention. You felt him throb inside you. “What?” he asked, confused as to why you had stopped moving, but grateful for the slap. “Do you want me to hurt you?” you asked, hand still lingering on his cheek. He throbbed again. “Yes. I will not last long.” Neither would you. You slapped him again, enjoying it almost as much as he was. “Lay down then,” you said as you rose off him.

He guided himself back into your wet heat as he laid flat on his back. His hands made their way to your lower back as you immediately began riding him again. You wanted to slap him again but decided instead to curl your fingers into his hair, pulling his head back onto the under-stuffed pillow it rested on. “Ooooh,” he moaned weakly, enjoying the dull burn in his scalp. “Open your mouth,” you demanded. He obeyed, sticking his tongue out for good measure. You spat in his mouth and he swallowed gratefully. You moved both of your hands to his chest and scraped your nails across it. “Yes!” Archie shouted. You pinched his nipples roughly, twisting and flicking them. Archie’s legs shook and he dug his nails into your lower back as he moaned. You liked the sting of it more than you thought you would, and your orgasm was approaching quickly.

You decided you wanted him to cum first. You rose your hips and slammed them down harder than necessary, feeling his balls and thighs slap against your ass loudly. He gasped, startled by the change in pace. “Close!” he shouted. Your right hand shot to his neck, closing off his airflow as you moved at a punishing pace. All Archie could manage like this was “c- c- c-“ You assumed he was trying to say “cumming,” as his entire body became stiff. You felt him pulse inside you a few times, each pulse followed by a spurt of cum.

Your hand around his neck loosened. You stopped moving your hips. He gasped for breath, savoring every bit of air that made it into his lungs. After he was breathing normally, you angled your hips so that his cock would hit your gspot on each stroke, and began riding him again at your relentless pace. The air he had just gotten back was knocked out of his lungs as he gasped from oversensitivity. You watched him writhe, unsure if he wanted to get away from you or drive himself even deeper. High, undignified noises left his mouth as you overstimulated him. Your orgasm hit you suddenly, and began grinding into him again, enjoying the feel of his pubic bone grinding against your clit. He laughed madly as he watched you take your pleasure from him, uncaring of his pain.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as you collapsed next to him. You were both sweaty and in need of baths, but that could wait until later. You stared at the ceiling, wondering what to do next in regard to Archie. You turned to face him and saw that he was staring at you intensely as if he saw God himself, and all his infinite love and wisdom, in you.

#the great hulu #the great #priest kink #plus size reader #fat reader #smut #archie the great #fanfic #body worship

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aliorsboxostuff · 10 months

Note

When I tell you that the Joel miller x trans!reader fic was the best thing I’ve read in a while I mean that. The way you just integrated the character into the already existing storyline without really changing it was absolutely everything. If your up for it I was wondering if you could write a fic about Joel and trans!reader knowing each other in the QZ and what it would look like to have a relationship with him there or before the relationship. Maybe some Tess too? I completely understand if you’re not up for this request but if you are thank you so much. 😊

AGHH this turned out so short but I didn't know what else to put im so sorry anon!! I really love the idea but I think building the whole backstory before Joel and Tess got out of the QZ is a bit hard. As usual, please excuse my writing if there were any mistakes, I do hope you enjoyed it anon!

Hounds

Tags: Joel Miller x ftm!Reader, Tess, Before leaving QZ, Tess being the badass she is, Tender Joel, bind safely everyone!, Tender Lovin’, Mostly Fluff, a bit of smut, just dirty thoughts tho, Established Relationship, Bisexual Joel, Bisexual Tess

Tess and her hounds. They follow as her shadow. Pick a fight with her, you pick a fight with all three of them. Tess has always been seen with those two, even walking into the same apartment where they all live. But behind closed doors, no one knows that Tess lives alone while Joel stays with his boyfriend.

3rd POV

Tess was popular amongst the Boston QZ. Not popular, per se, but known for her strengths and determination. For her headstrong and immovable demeanor. Another thing that boosts her status are her hounds.

Joel Miller was one thing. Stone cold, dead eyes. Picking a fight with him is the same as picking a casket, according to those who have seen his combat with their own eye. His threats are not to be taken lightly, because when that man says he’ll break your jaw, he’d do just that in the next second. People have seen a fair share of his skills with a gun, and it's not to be messed with. Rumour has it that he’s the one burning infected kids, not a shadow of a doubt in throwing a human into the fire pit.

The other guy, he's another thing. Don't underestimate him as Joel's shadow, because he might as well be standing at the same podium Joel does with his strengths. He smiles and waves, acting as the good guy for the two of them, but behind those sweet eyes are thoughts malicious enough to be kicked out of the QZ, plans that would impress even Tess. He might not be a stud but he’s the one doing the slippery parts. Countless times, Joel always ends up with the upper hand in a situation with his help. Body as agile as a deer, he’s the hands of the operation. If anyone dares to mess with him, you can bet Joel is right behind them with a gun cocked.

Tess and her hounds. Her boys, the ones that help her operation. Not that she’d need it, but it makes clean-up easier. No one dares to keep Tess away from them, unless she says so herself. Only the most ballsy illegal sellers are brave enough to negotiate with her, because most of the time they'll give her the thing she wants just like that, out of fear and respect.

—

How you first met Joel was through Tess herself.

You were notorious for stealing small but valuable things from FEDRA agents. A stash of guns and bullets, cards and drugs inside your home. Most of the things you don't even use, but due to your ability to pickpocket most if not all of the gullible FEDRA agents, you’ve gained an abundance of them. Your most prized possessions were the firearms you managed to steal or negotiate off of agents. Those are located under your bed, in an inconspicuous box, loaded with extra bullets on the side.

Tess had apparently caught a whiff of your gossip around the QZ, of the ‘Invisible Pick-pocketer’ the agents are having a hard time looking for. As much as she hates to admit it, her strong suit is negotiation, and Joel wasn't exactly the sleekest person for a job like stealing small shit.

So, one Wednesday morning, in one of the food stalls in the QZ, Tess approached you.

“Sorry I don't work with anyone,” You were focused on the bowl of food in front of you, scarfing it down because you missed your dinner.

“You might wanna look up first,” A voice of a woman you didn't recognize. So you placed the bowl down, putting on your stone-cold mask before looking at the source of the voice and you almost shit yourself. The most feared woman is standing in front of you, arms crossed with a brow arched. You gulp, trying to salvage what that hardened demeanor you could.

“I’m- Tess, right?” The edge of her lips raises.

“So you’ve heard,” She leans into the small table, her hair covering one side of her face. Your eyes widen, fear shoots up your spine. “And I’ve heard about you too,”

“Oh- uh- really?” You cough into your hand, avoiding her eyes.

“You’re the pickpocket, right? The ones FEDRA can't seem to find?” Her grin becomes dangerous. “I have a proposition,”

She crosses her hands on top of the table, entwining her fingers. “You know me, I know you, we both know what we can do,”

“Yeah,” You arch a brow, curious.

“How about you join me? We could use a hand like you, literally,” Her eyes fall to where your hands are, old scars from the fire incident still evident on the back of your hands. It took a second for you to consider before you realize—

“Wait, we? You and… Miller?”

“Yeah, who else?” Tess leans back into their chair, her arms crossed again.

“You won't mind? I thought you two worked together, ‘cuz y’know…” You tilted your head, hoping she would take the hint, which she does and immediately cackles, covering her mouth to the side.

“Me and Joel? Fuck no! I don't swing that way,” Then she seems to retract herself. “Well, I do, but he’s not my type,”

“Oh, okay, cool, I'm cool with that…” Tess rolls her eyes at your answer before she stands, mumbling something about ‘youths’ and saying ‘cool’ under her breath. She turns towards you, inclining her head towards the street.

“C’mon, you have to meet Joel.”

—

“Maybe should've taken that break earlier,” You groan, lifting up your shirt as you rubbed at your sides.

“Told you should've taken it but ya’ didn't, now-”

“Look what happens, yeah yeah I know,” You huff, Joel's disappointed stare burning at your back. Feeling the relief of finally taking off your sticky shirt, you stood by the bed as you began to peel off the body tape, taking lungfuls after the busy day. The tape at this point has soaked up most of your sweat, disgusting as it is. When it's at its last loops, calloused hands find its place on your waist, then Joel's comforting weight as he settles behind you.

You feel his coarse beard against your nape as he places a kiss there, his warm breath makes you sigh. Careful, shaking hands replace yours and continues unwrapping the body tape until it falls in a heap next to your leg. Joel places one hand on your stomach, the other rubbing circles on your waist.

“Thank you,” You smile, leaning into his touch as Joel murmurs his answer. He runs a calloused hand up to your shoulder, then between them, pushing slightly until you arch under his touch. He presses another kiss just above where his hand is pushing, before he relents and both of his hands fall to your waist.

“Tess is coming for dinner,” He says, voice ghosting at the shell of your ear. You suppress a shiver, gulping instead.

“Then let me get ready,” You smirk, feeling Joel's hand releasing you as you slip away from his grasp. You turn, placing a short kiss on his cheek before patting it twice. He raises his brow, which makes you grin. “Go wash up,”

Dinner went on as usual. For the past months, Tess, Joel, and you have been planning on escaping the QZ in search of Tommy. He hasn't been replying back Joel’s messages and knowing you and Tess won't be leaving Joel to go out by himself, Tess has been going around looking for information and parts.

“I got a trail. Some guy got the battery we need for the truck. I can track him down this week but I need you to cover my shifts in the afternoon,” Tess points her fork at you, which you instantly nod at. “Joel, keep gathering cards. I have a bad feeling we might need to bribe our way out,”

Joel hums his answer and that's the end of the dinner. While it worked more as a meetup hour for the three of you, the little bits of food are enough to simulate what it would be like if the world wasn't like this.

As you begin to wash the dishes, your mind wanders to a simple, easier life. Tess would come over, maybe bring her partner, to have dinner together. You’d cook something for the group, something you and Joel enjoy. Wine would be involved, sweetening the night, and there wouldn't be talks about truck engines and unresponsive brother. Maybe Tommy would come over too, have dinner with Joel and he can meet his boyfriend. Then once dinner is over, you and Joel can take the leftover wine and bring it to the porch, settling side by side as the night sky flies by. A simpler world, a better world-

“Hey, you okay?” Joel's hand stops you from jolting, a grounding weight on your arm.

“Y-yeah, sorry,” You dry your hands on the dish towel, noticing the slight quiver it holds. You could practically feel Tess’ eyes on your back. You inhale, straightening yourself before you turn. “I got your shifts covered Tess, don't worry,”

“Make sure that trail isn't some bullshit, yeah?”

“Always do,” She nods, gulping down the last of her drink before she stands.

“I’ll take my leave, good night boys,” She smiles, before you walk her to the door and shut it behind her with a last wave. You place the lock in its place, standing there just for a minute. Joel makes his way behind you, a reassuring hand on the small of your back.

“Let's go to bed,” You find yourself nodding.

After washing up and clearing the table, you change into a simple shirt and briefs while Joel changes into his sleep clothes. He usually falls into bed with his day clothes on if he’s too tired and cares far less, but by your request, he changes to a shirt and pants when he can.

As you pull back the thick excuse of a blanket, the bed creaks when Joel lays down and you follow suit, leaving the blanket at your feet knowing how hot the night could get. Joel turns and you instinctively wrap your arms around his middle, the man buries himself deeper into the pillows.

“What were you thinking about?” Knowing your boyfriend, it’ll take a while for him to fall into slumber. He slowly laces his fingers with yours and you feel the brush of his lips against your knuckles. You tighten your arms.

“You ever wanna…” You blink at the small stars above. “You ever thought of living a different life?”

“Have a ranch somewhere, and we can… We have a normal dinner, and we’ll invite Tess and shit…” You feel your lips quirk before a beat of silence, then another kiss pressed on your knuckles.

“Yeah, I do,” Joel turns slightly, looking out the same window into the same night sky. “We can raise sheep,”

You let out a chuckle, nuzzling into Joel's short curls when he only huffs, quietly rolling his eyes. The idea of farmer Joel, tending to his little sheep as they run around him. An image of him wearing nothing but a stetson suddenly flashes across your eyes, quickly killing your laugh, making you hide your red cheeks into Joel's nape.

“What?” He gruffly asks, unable to turn because of your arms.

“Nothin’,” You mumble, still hiding behind your boyfriend at which Joel only huffs before settling back to bed. The blush finally ebbs away and is replaced with a smile instead as you take lungfuls of Joel's scent, lulling you to sleep.

“Good night, Joel,” Joel tightens his hold on your hand.

“Good night, darlin’,”

Requests are opened! Reblogs appreciated <3!

#joel miller hbo #hbo joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x male reader #joel miller x trans!reader #joel miller x ftm reader #pedro pascal roles #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic

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bro-atz · 3 months

Note

that sumin fic was crazy af i’m obsessed w your writing… could we possibly get a university au w music composition major minjae x f!reader?? and w some smut in there too pls thinking a lot abt rapper minjae being good w his tongue akdjjsjsjsj

the theory of music

in which: there's a rumor about minjae that you want to find out more about.

pair: uni student!minjae/uni student!afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

content: college!au, smut, heavy sexual tension, oral sex, completely consensual!

author's note: you wanna know what's crazy anon? i know someone like this irl HAHAH nd he's truly one of my favorite people (if i ignore the fact that he had a threesome in my living room once but that a story for a diff day) but yes this is something i can def do and just did for you (^з^)-♡♥︎♡ seriously tho im glad you requested this bc i wanted to make a lil series for xikers so this was perf

tag list: @eyeryis @sinnarols apply for the permanent taglist here! university!series: sumin, minjae, junmin, hyunwoo

You weren’t one for parties, especially rooftop parties. You only went to this specific rooftop party because it was your friend’s roommate’s birthday, and she promised you that it was going to be lowkey and fun when it was anything but. Yet, you had a good time— when the company is good, why wouldn’t everything else be good? Some kids were still yakking off the roof while others were getting completely stoned or crossed, but the ones that were still somewhat coherent were cool. There was one person in particular that you were drawn to the most, not because you were attracted to him (although he was very attractive, you’ll give him that), but because the air around him was so calming and he seemed to vibe with literally everyone.

“Him? That’s Minjae,” Junmin, one of the boys you were talking to at the party, told you when you asked. “How do you not know Minjae?”

“I mean… It’s my first time seeing him—”

“Still, he’s infamous at these parties.”

“This is my first time at one of these rooftop parties. Cut me some slack, Junmin.”

“Well, I’d just warn you and say don’t get too close,” Junmin brought his voice down and said ominously.

“Why do you say that?” you matched his decibel, clearly not taking him seriously.

“He’s… A character. Kind of loose. I mean, you see how many girls go swarming to him. It happens all the time, and it happens for a reason”

“Dude, I’m not looking to fuck him. I just want to befriend the guy, is all.”

“That’s what they all say,” Junmin sighed loudly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Heard loud and clear.”

You wanted to defy Junmin, but he was just so sinister with informing you about Minjae that you dropped the idea of befriending the guy in general. You spent the rest of the party interacting with other people, completely unaware that Minjae’s gaze kept flickering to you every so often.

You saw Minjae again at Junmin’s rooftop party, but you paid no mind to him. This time, you steered clear of him because he was surrounded by a bunch of girls— girls that definitely were not at the party you were at the other night. You knew after what Junmin said that Minjae was a popular guy, but it didn’t fully register in your head until that moment. Maybe it was his soft, brown hair that spilled over his face and gave his eyes a mysterious charm that made the girls fall for him, or maybe it was his irresistible smile and laugh. Whatever it was, there was just something about him that drew girls to him like a moth to a flame.

You kept to yourself for the most part during Junmin’s party. Junmin was running around the rooftop trying to make sure his friends didn’t fall over the balcony or throw up anywhere that wasn’t a toilet— honestly, seeing him scramble all over the place did not make you jealous in the slightest. If anything, it was entertaining to see him break a sweat and make sure the party didn’t completely fall apart.

While you were observing Junmin, you didn’t realize that Minjae actually approached you and stood right next to you with every intention to flirt with the one girl at the party that wasn’t all over him.

“Hey,” you heard him speak into your ear, startling you completely.

“What the— Oh?” you were fully prepared to fight whoever it was that scared you, but when you saw Minjae’s beautiful face super close to yours, you short-circuited. “H-hello…”

He held his hand out for you to shake.

“Minjae.”

You nearly said “I know” in response, but you choked back that first instinct. You shook his hand.

“Y/N.”

There was a beat of silence. Honestly, you didn’t know what to say to him because Junmin truly scared the shit out of you, so the only questions on your mind was just to inquire about his reputation.

“You know, I saw you at the last party and wondered who you were because I’ve never seen you at any of these parties,” Minjae said, trying to continue the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m not really a party person,” you admitted.

“But you’re here at this one?”

“Because Junmin invited me.”

“What about the last one?”

“My friend invited me since it was her roommate’s birthday.”

“Oh, okay that makes sense.”

Minjae nodded and smiled at you, making you feel slightly guilty that your impression of him was so tarnished thanks to your own assumptions. He ended up getting more words out of you and got you comfortable enough to have very candid conversations about everything. He had a very complex view on the world that you resonated with, and it made you want to know more about him. There was definitely a deeper side of him that he was hiding, and you wanted to find it.

You were so engrossed in your conversation with him that you didn’t realize how much time had passed and that most of the party had cleared out until Junmin approached you and Minjae, his hair and clothes completely disheveled.

“I appreciate you both so much, but I’m going to have to ask you both to go the fuck home,” Junmin said with a heavy sigh.

You checked your phone and saw many, many missed calls from your roommate, and you also saw that it was four in the morning.

“Damn, it’s already this late? Sorry, Junmin,” you apologized.

“We’ll leave now,” Minjae added.

We? You looked at Minjae with slight confusion.

“Thanks. Get home safe— And, Y/N, text me when you get home,” Junmin instructed.

“Ow, you don’t want to know if I got home?” Minjae asked feigning hurt.

“You’ll be fine,” Junmin rolled his eyes and pushed Minjae away. “Get out.”

You and Minjae left Junmin’s apartment building, and before you could bid adieu and head home, Minjae asked, “What direction are you headed in?”

“There,” you pointed.

“I’ll walk you home,” Minjae stated.

You eyed Minjae suspiciously, wondering if he had any other intentions by walking you home. Deciphering your look, he held his hands up and said, “No, I just want to make sure you get home safe, too. It’s four in the morning, and you are a woman after all.”

You were still not convinced of his intentions. It was only when he held out his pinky and looked at you with the most sincerest of eyes did you cave and let him walk you home.

During your walk, you both continued to have a deep discussion about the world to the point where you didn’t even realize that you had already gotten back to your dorm. Before you went inside, Minjae stopped you.

“Wait, I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“If I invited you to one of my parties, would you come?”

You briefly pondered the thought before nodding. He grinned at you then held out his phone. “I’ll text you the next time I throw one,” he said.

You gave him your number, and with that, you both parted ways.

You seriously wondered why Junmin told you to avoid Minjae in the first place. He didn’t seem so bad.

You and Minjae became friends since the night you exchanged numbers. Not once did you feel like Minjae was trying to get into your pants or anything—especially because he mostly texted you— making you doubt Junmin’s explanation of the guy more and more. When you asked Junmin, he refused to elaborate on it further, so you had to settle for a shrug and acceptance that Junmin was probably just really wrong about Minjae.

you:

what’re you doing rn?”

You ended up texting Minjae right in the middle of class one fine day. You shouldn’t have been on your phone, but the class was such a drag that you desperately needed the distraction.

minjae:

studio why

you:

ah okay nah i was just bored is all

minjae:

you can come to the studio if you want

you:

yeah? you sure?

And immediately, Minjae sent you an address along with a room number— it was one of the buildings on campus, but you had no idea which one it was until you got there. It was the music building on campus, also known as a building you’ve never entered on campus and never thought you would enter because you were not in the music composition major. You were nervous as hell the entire time you were making your way to the studio that Minjae was in until you saw him down the hall, half his body out the door as he looked and waited for you.

You had never seen any sort of music studio before, and were honestly quite surprised to see that your school had such a professional one— well, multiple professional ones since the entire hall you walked down was filled with studios— readily available on campus. It was completely soundproof inside, and it was also dark as hell in there. There were no windows or anything. Just a room, a chair, a computer, a monitor, a bunch of keyboards, and an audio mixer.

“I thought this was a recording studio?” you questioned.

“This is the mixing studio. So if we don’t have to record vocals or instruments and just need digital, we can use this room,” Minjae explained.

“Oh…”

“Want to listen?”

“Sure.”

Minjae let you have a seat in the singular chair in the room and gave you the headphones. As soon as you were comfortable, he played the song for you. It was upbeat, but also melancholic in a way. You found yourself nodding along to the beat of the song the more you listened, and when the song ended, you were amazed but also confused because that was super short.

“This is really good,” you told the boy as you handed the headphones back.

“Yeah, but it’s still not done. I only played you the intro into the first chorus since that’s all I got right now,” he said with a tiny sigh.

“Still, what you have so far is so good. I can’t wait to hear the whole song now.”

With a small smile, Minjae reclaimed his seat, leaving you standing. You looked around, trying to find a place to sit, but the only place to sit was the singular chair in the room that Minjae was using.

“I’ll head out then, leave you to it,” you told the boy as you reached for the door handle.

“Honestly, you can stay if you’d like,” Minjae said without tearing his eyes away from the screen.

“Won’t it be weird if I’m just sitting on the ground in the corner?”

“What? You can sit in the chair with me.”

You eyed the chair, then looked at Minjae skeptically. “You really think that we’ll both fit in the chair?”

“Yeah, the arms come up. See,” Minjae said as he proceeded to demonstrate— and they did.

You somehow found yourself sitting on one edge of the chair while Minjae sat on the other. You though he would be uncomfortable working like that, but he seemed perfectly fine and completely focused on his work. You tried to keep your eyes on the screen, but for some reason, your eyes kept straying towards the boy.

Minjae was very attractive usually, but he was absolutely breathtaking from the side. His chin was tilted upwards since the monitor was on an elevated desk, so you got the best view of his jawline. He unconsciously licked his lower lip as he clicked on the screen, and he bit his lower lip while he focus, the mere acts send flashes of heat through your body.

He usually looked like a very soft, very cuddly boy, but this version of Minjae you got to see was incredibly sexy— unbelievably and unbearably sexy. He was so immersed in his work that he just oozed charisma, and the way his arms would subtly flex when he moved the mouse around or clicked or typed made you pay more attention to the way he was built— so much attention that you started wondering what he looked like underneath since his arms were pretty muscular.

It was only when he turned his head to look at you did you suddenly snap out of your daydream. You looked right at the monitor thinking you barely avoided Minjae noticing you staring, but he noticed well before he even turned to look at you. In fact, he felt you staring him down, and despite the fact that he was playing the song, he heard you gulp the building pool of saliva in your mouth. Plus, it did not help your case that your face and ears were reddening slowly.

“Y/N,” Minjae said, nearly startling you out of your skin.

“Y-yeah?”

“You good?”

“Y-yeah…”

“You sure?”

You were going to respond with another yeah, but the words got stuck in the back of your throat when you felt his hand on your thigh, his hand rubbing inwards ever so slowly. Butterflies rampaged through your entire body when you felt his burning touch, the impure thoughts in your head getting dirtier by the second.

“You know, if you wanted, you could just ask.”

“What’re you talking about?” you deflected while trying to reclaim your thigh from him; but, you were unsuccessful, and he ended up moving his hand along your thigh, closer to your crotch. “Okay! Okay, I know, what you mean!”

“I can help you relieve that tension right now if you’d like.”

“Right now? In here?”

Minjae nodded.

“Are you insane?! In here?! What the fuck?!”

“Got a problem with that?”

“A bunch!” your voice nearly shrilled. “Aren’t there cameras? What if someone walks in? And—”

“No one will come in here since you need to have the key card to get in, and there are no cameras in here.”

“Still, but…”

You tried to find more reasons to object to having sex in the studio, but when his hand reached for your face and his fingers held your chin, your mind melted. He brought your face closer to his, and your eyes fluttered close when he brought his lips towards yours, but he stopped, his lips mere millimeters from yours.

“Is it because you don’t want to do this with me, or because you’re just nervous about the location?”

“…The latter.”

“If that’s the case, then don’t worry about it.”

“How a can I not worry about it when that’s all I’ll be thinking about?”

“Then I’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t even be able to think.”

Without a second to lose, Minjae’s lips were on yours. You didn’t think he was going to be so intense with you right off the bat, but when his tongue pushed into your mouth, you were completely taken aback. You leaned into him and held onto his shoulders when you felt his hands move down to your waist. His fingers slipped under your shirt and tiptoed their way up, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When his hands went over your breasts and started massaging over your bra painfully well, your grip on him tightened, and you pushed yourself further into his chest, a slight moan leaving your lips. You for sure thought Minjae was going to laugh at your reaction to his touch, but he was so intently focused on you that he was just eating up every single noise that escaped your soul.

You whimpered and whined slightly when his lips left yours, a thin string of saliva barely connecting his tongue to yours before being broken the second he brought his lips to your neck and started sucking lightly on your skin. His hands held the bottom of your shirt and pulled it upwards, your bra getting pushed up shortly thereafter. You flung your head back and let out a gasp mixed with a sigh when he started sucking on your nipple, his teeth nibbling slightly as he did so. He pinched and twisted your other nipple, sending shocks down your spine.

Next thing you knew, you were fully naked and sitting all by yourself on the swivel chair, the arm rests down for you to grip. Minjae lifted one of your legs and set it over his shoulder as he pushed the other to the side to fully reveal your soaking wet cunt, your slick glistening with the lights of the monitor. You felt Minjae exhale lightly, making your toes curl with excitement and lust. You face was burning up when you looked down to see Minjae looking up at you with shining eyes and a little smirk on his face. He didn’t have to utter a word for you to know that he was thoroughly entertained by your reaction to his being.

It was when he licked a stripe down your cunt did you fully lose your mind. Yellow and white sparks filled your vision as Minjae took his time with you. His tongue swirled around your clit, and he slipped a delicate finger through your folds. He curled the finger inside you and left it there the more he slurped you up and let his tongue wildly flick against your raw bud. You gripped onto the arm rests for dear life and bit your lower lip painfully hard when you felt the finger slip out and his tongue replace its position.

“Darling, you can be as loud as you want. No one’s gonna hear a fucking thing,” Minjae said softly as looked up at you with devious eyes and a slight smirk, your arousal fluid completely coating his mouth.

You weren’t planning on taking him up on that until he sucked on your clit, the feeling of the suction absolutely driving you up the wall. A sweet, loud moan sounded in the studio, more gasps and moans tumbling out of your mouth when you felt him slip two of his fingers inside you, fingering you slowly but with immense intention. Your hands left the arm rests and moved to his hair, his hair bunching up in your fists as you pushed him closer to your pussy.

“Ah! Mmm— Min-Minjae,” you cried as you tugged at his hair, prompting him to look at you. “More…”

Wordlessly, Minjae delivered. He kept curling his fingers inside you every time he pulled his fingers out, and he fingered you way faster as he slurped obnoxiously, your arousal filling his mouth completely. It was when he left your clit with a sickly sweet kiss did you cum, white filling your vision as you flung your head back and moaned loudly. You squirted right into his mouth, the boy downing everything like it was his last meal. You felt your face get hotter the more lewd noises he made with just his tongue and your pussy.

You thought he would be done, but he was far from over. He barely gave you a second to rest before diving in again, his fingers ruthlessly fingering you and rubbing along your g-spot repetitively, overstimulating you to the max. You were still riding your high when he pushed further, and it felt like you were seeing heaven and hell at the same time when you came for the second time, white filling your vision as you felt your body nearly burst into flames.

“W-wait, Minjae,” you said while breathing heavily, your hands desperately pushing his head away from your cunt. “I just—”

You cut yourself off when you saw his face, your arousal dribbling down his lips and dripping from his chin, his face pink and rosy. You were completely shocked— not once had you cum like that for any boy you had hooked up with in the past, and you definitely did not expect yourself to cum that hard ever in your entire lifetime. So, when you saw that the collar of Minjae’s shirt was also drenched, you wanted the Earth to swallow you whole.

“I guess I have to,” Minjae said as he stood up. He used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face, giving you the slightest peak at his toned torso. “I’ve got to check out of the studio soon, so we’ll continue this back at my place if that’s alright with you.”

You finally understood what Junmin was hinting at. Minjae was going to be the best sex you ever had, and there was no going back from there.

“Fuck, yes, please.”

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