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#i'll draw him properly another time...........
tianhai03 · 11 months
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been extremely entranced by clive ff16 despite the fact that i wont be able to know him properly for at least another 6 months so. here's a quick doodle of him just so he'd leave my brain (he wont)
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o0kawaii0o · 8 months
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Night Market - WIP (pt. 2)
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nocturnixx · 1 year
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horse studies ft arthur
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dinogoofymutated · 1 month
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Hi there! I'm currently watching the original X men series to catch up to 97, and I'm in love with Gambit.
Would it be possible to ask for Remy and reader to be on a secret mission, and the Ole "make out so they don't suspect us" trope comes in, and gambit kinda (obviously) has feelings...?
It could be sfw or nsfw, either is perfect! Thank you for all that you do, I've been trying to find fics for the xmen for a while 🙏🙏
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Kinda spicy! Gambit/GN!reader
YESS!! YESSSS!!! I legit had a dream about this situation with remy the day before you sent me this ask and I was cackling in joy when I saw this! I basically hyperfixated on it because I love this trope.
TWS: sexual themes n shit, no explicit smut. As always, reader written while picturing fem! but no specific pronouns mentioned. Semi-public making out and touching. Nipples be touched but size and type of breast not mentioned.
-Ps- reader can see heat signatures for plot purposes. I usually try to keep powers ambiguous but it was a NEED!
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"In here, quick!" Remy's thick draw catches your attention, just before he yanks you into an alley. The two of you were in New Orleans, looking for a specific mutant Xavier wanted to talk to. The only downside was that Remy still had a warrant out for his arrest, and wanted posters plastered all over the city from bourbon Street to the garden district.
"Don't worry Cher. You said. NOPD 'dumber than a sack of rocks, you said!" You gripe at him. Remy laughs, tugging you around the corner. The alleyways on Burbon street are mostly private areas, owned and sealed off by the bars that line the storefronts- but Remy knew this city like the back of his hand. However, things had changed since he was here last. That became apperent when the two of you reach the end of the alleyway and there's a brand new brick wall, a dead end.
Remy curses and skids to a stop, causing you to slam into his back. You send him a dirty look as you whip around, eyes adjusting to the brick surroundings. It's hard to make out the figures of the cops through the walls of the busy bar in in front of you, too many people crowding the street for drinks even this late at night. You strain your eyes a bit, but are able to make out the stiff-shouldered men, heat signature slightly elevated from booking it after the two of you. Unfortunately, they're headed towards the mouth of the alleyway.
"Damnit." You mutter, turning back to Remy. He understands what you mean just by looking at your face. He hums, thinking for a moment before he begins to take out a playing card. You grab his arm to stop him, trying to ignore how warm his skin is against your own.
"Don't. The explosion will just lead them to us." You say. Remy nodds, glancing at the corner before suddenly caging you against the wall of the alleyway. You try not to blush as he does so. Remy smirks at you, and you think your heart might just explode. You remind yourself that this is standard Remy behavior, but it doesn't stop your face from heating up. You can only hope it's too dark for him to see you properly.
"Well, there is another way we could fool those pigs." Remy says, quieter than before. You cock an eyebrow at him before looking back over in the direction of the alleyways opening, able to spot the cops as they begin to enter. In your peripheral, you see Remy running his fingers through his hair to flatten it. You open your mouth to ask him what he has in mind, but the sound of footsteps cut you off.
"-Well, if you're going to do something, you better do it quick!" You whisper back at him. Remy pushes you further against the cold brick, his hands drifting down to your waist as he leans over to wisper in your ear.
"Trust me, Cher. I'll take care of you." His words cause goosebumps to rise at the back of your neck, and you hardly have time to react before he's kissing you. Your eyes are blown wide, heart thumping wildly as you start to slowly relax into the kiss.
Unsurprisingly, Remy is a really, really good kisser. It's hard to focus while he's touching you like this, kissing you deeply like he loves you. He nips at your lip, and you gasp, having forgotten about everything else already. His tongue darts into you mouth, caressing the skin he finds there. You let out a small moan as one of his hands drifts lower, caressing your thigh and hiking your leg up just a bit. Your own hands slowly slide up his chest, drifting to his neck.
The heat in your chest is unbearable when Gambit separates from the kiss, a string of spit connecting your mouths before he wipes it away, nothing but affection on his eyes. You're panting for breath while he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and then lower. Remy places wet kisses on your neck, sucking and biting as he tries to swallow you whole. You thread your hands through his soft hair as his does so, fully encouraging him to ravage you in whatever way he would like. One of his hands begins to slide under your shirt when a cough startles you out of your heated state.
Your first instinct is to turn towards the noise, but Gambit is quick to cup your cheek and pull you into another heated kiss before your head could move a centimeter. He keeps you occupied as his other hand fully caresses the skin beneath your shirt, squeezing and caressing your breast. You hear another exhausted sigh from the cops. You crack and eye open slightly, knowing they cant see you do so in the dark. One of them begins to raise his voice, but the other smacks him on the shoulder.
"Just another pair of drunks. We've got bigger things to worry about right now." The cop says. You could practically hear the other roll his eyes before they turn to and walk away. Gambit brings your attention back to him and only him when you feel a finger brush lightly against your nipple. You gasp, and Remy chuckles, playfully biting your lip as he pulls away. He's smirking as he looks at you, and you can only imagine what you look like right now.
"Looks like you enjoyed that." He teases, voice low and husky. You can't seem to pull your thought together properly when he's looking at you like that. You nervously look away, hands playing with his collar.
"And if I did?" You ask, glancing back at him to gage his reaction. He looks surprised at first, face morphing into a lovestruck smile before he tries to cover it up with a smirk. Didn't stop you from being able to see the heat rise to his cheeks, however.
"Then gambit thinks we should do this more often."
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hauntedchoso · 11 days
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LOVE IS A...*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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I'll let you touch me sweet and slow, just take my body and my soul.
Choso loved comforting you after your failed dates, but he wishes you'd stop wasting your time with worthless guys and give him a chance instead. nsfw warning.
mdni. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. cw: friends to lovers, fingering, cunnilingus, choking, biting, cream pie wc: 3.9k a/n: this is a jjk.259 comfort piece :(
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Your roommate, Choso, would take your heels off for you after you come home from another failed date. Admiring the fishnet stockings you paired them with, rubbing his fingers gently over the marks left in your feet by the shoes. He did this because he genuinely felt for his poor, pretty little roomie—you had high standards, and it was hard to find someone who could keep up with you. He wanted to make sure he mended your ruined nights the best way he could—because that’s what good roommates do. 
He would pull your legs into his lap while he sat next to you on the couch, lightly stroking your stocking-clad calves, listening to you babble on and on about how your date bored you; he knew he would never bore you if given the chance to take you out. He knows your time is precious, and he wouldn’t dare waste it. 
Listening to your date talk endlessly about his generic dude-bro life somehow chased away your appetite, and the most you could do at dinner was push your appetizer around with a fork—and then insist you were full when it came time to order actual dinner. When Choso heard your stomach growl upon re-entry to your shared home, he was quick to order delivery from your favorite restaurant.  
He thought he was the luckiest man in the world when you were unable to pull the zipper down on your dress, your arm aching from the pretzel-like shape you have bent it in behind your back in a failed attempt to reach properly. Hearing you politely ask him to unzip it for you in your sweet, tired voice sent all the blood from his head to his dick. He couldn’t help but grin when his fingers “accidentally” grazed your bare skin, causing you to shiver ever so slightly. Your skin felt cool to the touch, making him want to wrap his strong arms around you and envelope you in warmth. He suspected you had a thing for his arms, and perhaps were even attracted to his whole body; he was lucky enough to catch you staring from across the room once or twice before. But for now, he’ll refrain; he’ll just offer to draw you a hot bath instead. 
Choso absolutely loves how you look fresh out of a shower or bath. His pants tighten as you step back into the living room where he’s gaming on the TV, now wearing a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt—his t-shirt. The shirt was so large on you; he could barely see your shorts, and he liked to imagine you didn’t have any on. Your hair is still slightly wet and falling naturally around your face, now free of makeup. The PlayStation controller suddenly loses priority over your legs, which he’s pulling back into his lap as you settle into your designated place next to him on the couch, rubbing a palm over the tops of your bare feet before picking up the controller again. He loves how you love watching him play video games. 
And that’s when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. Your erect nipples are obvious even under the loose-fitting, black, screen printed t-shirt. He can feel his dick swelling in his pants again, the thought of your bare nipples pressed against his t-shirt running rampant in his mind. He fought the urge to run his hands across your bare legs, opting instead to pretend to stretch his arms, purposefully grazing your calf in the process—and feeling goosebumps on your skin. He found it a bit peculiar that you were often cold, but it only gave him a chance to take care of you more. 
As he went to fetch a blanket for you, he was surprised to find you violently shivering when he came back to the couch. 
“My hair is still kinda wet, and the fan is making me really cold right now. Your body heat was the only thing keeping me grounded,” you complained, eagerly grabbing the edges of the blanket and allowing Choso to tuck you in. 
He chuckled to himself before reaching above him and pulling one of the strings on the ceiling fan. “You know you could have asked me to turn it off for you, right? Silly angel.”
“I didn’t want you to get up though. But you got up anyway,” you pouted. You patted the spot where Choso was sitting, lifting up the blanket on his side so he can slide in beside you again. Instead of slinging your legs over his lap, you hugged his arm, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to play. You couldn’t see the blood rush to his face when you did this—nor could you feel the blood rush to his dick. 
He couldn’t count on one hand the amount of times he’s gotten a semi-hard-on just from these day-to-day interactions with you. Showering you with praise and compliments, calling you sweet names, fulfilling every request you did or didn’t have, and waiting around to comfort you when you phased out of another failed talking stage with some loser. he would do it all, and he does do it all, to see your bright smile that reaches your eyes so beautifully and hear your delicate giggles, to end these nights with you in the same way you were spending the evening now. 
Choso was getting kind of frustrated whenever he died in the game, finding himself at a hard level he’s never reached before—but he doesn’t mind, because you giggle or make a sly little pass at him each time. After fighting the final boss and losing three times, he decides he’s finished with the game for the night and asks if you’d like to watch a movie. You agree, but only if you can watch it on the TV in your bedroom. 
“It’s really cold in here, and I feel like laying down anyways,” you reason. 
Choso only smirked down at you, secretly loving the idea of being curled up in your bed watching a movie together. The suggestive ideas came flooding into his mind at a mile a minute. He stood with you, making sure the blanket stays wrapped around you as you stand and begin walking to your bedroom. 
The act makes you release a content sigh, “You always treat me like a princess.”
“You are a princess. You’re my princess.”
Unbeknownst to you, Choso got unbelievably hard when you shucked off your pajama shorts, leaving you only in his oversized shirt, which was just long enough to cover your purple panties. Not long enough to prevent him from catching a glimpse, though. 
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m more comfortable being in my bed without pants. It’s just a habit,” you shrug, completely oblivious to the growing hard-on in Choso’s pants. 
With your head resting on his chest, your leg bent at the knee and resting delicately across his legs, Choso could barely grasp the plot of the movie. He couldn’t even recall a single character’s name. He was absolutely dizzy; the smell of your hair dancing around his face and intoxicating him, the feeling of your body draped across his so casually, in your bed. He would run his fingers through your hair every now and then, absolutely swooning at the content little hums he was able to pull out of you. 
“Choso,” you suddenly whisper, not bothering to lift your head from his chest. 
“Hm, princess?”
Only then did you lift your head, meeting his gaze. His pretty eyes poured into yours, the dancing motions of the movie on the TV screen reflecting in his irises. He admired the way the light graced your features, and felt his entire body run cold, heart beating fast in his chest when he noticed you fixated your gaze on his lips. 
He spoke again after a couple seconds of heart-racing silence. “Do you not want the movie on anymore? It’s pretty hard to keep up with, right?”
You didn’t answer, instead, bringing your hand up to trace his jaw. “Can I…try something with you?” You managed to get out, but you were already scooting yourself closer to his face. 
Before Choso could think to respond, he was meeting you halfway, leaning forward to meet your lips the split second he noticed you inching towards him. When his lips crashed against yours, he wasted no time in deepening the kiss, welcoming your tongue to swirl against his own, earning him a satisfying moan from your perfect lips. The kiss quickly became heavy and passionate, and the passion quickly melted into desperation; with loud, lewd kissing noises filling the air and drowning out the sounds of the movie that was still playing. He had switched your positions, carefully laying you on your back and pinning you down under his weight as he attacked your lips. 
As much as he felt like he could die if he pulled away from you, he feared he would die if he continued to deprive himself of oxygen, intoxicating himself from your kiss. Your lips were pink and swollen when he finally pulled away—so fucking cute, he thought. 
“Don’t tell me it’s taken you this long to come to your senses,” he smirks at you breathlessly, forehead pressed against yours, arms caging you in, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to recover from your heated kiss. “Torturing me in those sexy fucking dresses you go out in. Wearing them for guys who don’t even deserve a second of your attention.”
His lips are on yours again, but this time more harshly, and in that moment, you feel everything he’s ever wanted to say to you through his kiss. You could feel it igniting your entire body, the flames engulfing your skin being soothed by his gentle hands smoothing over every exposed piece of skin he could find. Gasping when a large hand slid up your bare thigh, dangerously close to the heat between your legs, and squeezed. 
You couldn’t deny it to yourself anymore—the hours you spend swiping away on dating apps, the dates you allowed yourself to go on, the time you allowed yourself to waste with men who didn’t even pique your interest in the slightest—were all just pointless, failed attempts to rid your thoughts of your attractive, doting roommate. One thing you could admit though, was that the dates were never that bad, only because you knew Choso would be home to eagerly take you into his arms and place you back on your throne. The thought of coming home to him alone was always enough to get you through. 
Choso’s lips felt so amazing enmeshing with your own that in the moment, you couldn’t even remember why you tried so hard to run from your crush on him. Perhaps it was because it was hard enough to find a roommate as respectful and clean as he was, and you never had to worry about him being behind on his half of the rent, or other annoying obstacles you feared you’d run into when you first began the search. Were you afraid of ruining the good dynamic you had, and possibly scaring him away?
Then again, what about your dynamic was actually normal? Normal roommates don’t shower you with affectionate gestures after a rough night. Normal roommates don’t help you out of your heels, unzip your dress for you, or draw you baths. Normal roommates don’t kiss you feverishly in your bed. Normal roommates definitely don’t let their hands wander under your shirt as their lips suddenly find your neck…
“Choso…” you drawl, gasping when you feel him lightly sink his teeth into your neck and suck. 
“Try going on another date, angel. I wanna hear all about the defeated look on your boy’s face when he sees your neck covered in my marks,” his husky voice whispers against your skin. His hand rested gently under the curve of your breast. 
You giggle as he continues to feast on your neck. “Maybe I should bring you with me on my next one. Introduce you as my bodyguard.”
Choso removes his lips from the second hickey he was sucking into you and meets your eyes. “Do it. I’ll have his ass laid out the second I see you becoming bored.”
Something about Choso’s feral devotion to you was making you swoon. With the way he was kissing and marking you, it was hard to ignore your little crush you had and simply lose yourself in his lips. As a matter of fact, part of you cursed yourself for holding out on him, believing that it would disrupt your peaceful roommate dynamic if things ended up not working, and not considering giving him a chance. You didn’t even understand how you had fooled yourself into believing that anything could ever become awkward with Choso, when he was the sole reason the atmosphere in your home always felt so charming. You smashed your lips back onto his, your teeth clashing for a few seconds before you both relaxed back into a passionate, heart-searing kiss. Mewling in pleasure when you felt his warm hands cup your bare breasts. 
You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the feeling of his large palms covering your nipples. It felt so forbidden and naughty…letting your roommate touch you in ways many guys could only hope to, and the naughtiness excited you. Part of you felt like you weren’t supposed to be doing this, and yeah, you weren’t technically supposed to—but it was so damn fun. 
You let out a whiny moan when he rolled one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, igniting your core and making you ungodly wet. “Choso…take my shirt off.”
He did as he was told, lightly snickering at his pretty little roommate’s demand to be completely bare-chested in front of him. His hardened cock twitched knowing you wanted him in this moment just as badly as he’s always wanted you. His eyes widened at the sight of your tits, immediately placing both hands on them and squeezing. 
“Let me fuck you good, baby. I wanna make you cum so bad,” he whispers breathlessly against your lips. “I wanna hear your pretty little mouth moan for me. Come on, angel. Let me fuck you. You have no idea how much I want you.”
Hearing Choso beg for you, feeling his lips move against yours, his hands on your breasts—it was all too much. You felt so hot between your legs, you couldn’t help but spread them, allowing him to settle between them, pushing his hard bulge against the wet spot on your panties. A sultry moan escaped your lips when he licked his thumb and rubbed it over your hard, sensitive nipple. You couldn’t stop your body from reacting to him even if you wanted to. 
“Fuck…I know you want me too. Admit it, angel. I bet you’ve just been waiting to get me into your bed, hm? Say it.” Choso attached his lips to one of your hardened buds, wasting no time in sucking and grazing his teeth against it. Oh, you were wet. 
“Yes…haah. Choso…fuck….” you moan, a hand flying up to run your fingers through his hair as he moves his head to your other breast. A loud sucking noise smacked against your skin as he pulled his lips away. 
“Yes what, baby? Tell me what’s on your mind,” he purred, pressing his mouth to your jugular. “Talk to me. It’s just you and me here.”
“Choso….please,” you pleaded. The bliss you were feeling was stealing the air from your lungs. “I want you to fuck me. Make me yours. I wanna be yours, please?” You ask sweetly. 
Choso’s heart started beating rapidly in his rib cage. He lifted his body weight from you, kneeling between your legs still in a sitting-up position. He smirked down at you, breathless and bright-eyed for him, before slipping the shirt off his toned body. He hooked his fingers around your panties and began pulling them down, biting his lips as you assist him by shimmying your hips. Gasping at the sudden cool air between your legs, you barely caught Choso shoving your soiled panties in his pocket. Your pussy quivered as you imagined what he planned on doing with them later. He threw you off guard by immediately shoving a hand between your thighs, middle finger grazing the entrance to your warm, wet cunt. “So wet, baby…is this all for me?”
You nodded frantically, “all for you. I’m all yours, So-so…” you whine, and Choso’s cock jumps in his sweats at the sound of your cute little nickname for him drawling from your pretty lips in such a needy tone. You could see his dick print very clearly now, and you begin to sweat in excitement. 
“God damnit, I just wanna eat you,” he whispered. He was quick to scoot himself back on your bed so that he had enough room to shove his head between your thighs, and the way his tongue immediately found your hole and pressed firmly against your wet folds as he swiped up to flick your clit made your legs tremble. 
“Oh my god! Haah…fuck! Choso! Please, I’m sensitive!” You cried through ragged breaths, unable to handle the sensation of his warm tongue fluttering against your clit. It was true, your clit was unreasonably sensitive—probably from always having to rub yourself out every night, having too much dignity to give yourself to any guy who didn’t interest you enough. You sometimes imagined it was Choso who was fingering and caressing you on those nights. You tried not to make a habit of it, though. It would only make your attraction to him deepen, but you couldn’t deny that when your eyes were closed, and you were imagining his fingers instead of yours, you came much harder than the times when you weren’t thinking of him at all. Now here he is, tonguing you so deliciously, and fuck, he just slid a finger in you. 
Choso chuckled. “You’re fucking tight, girl,” he says with a grin, slowly stroking his finger in and out of your cunt. “You’re clenching my finger so hard. Do you really want me that badly?” He adds another finger, enjoying the resistance of your tight cunt to his invading digit. 
“I want you so bad, oh my fucking—Choso, if you keep doing that—!” 
You could quickly feel the pressure building in your loins as Choso’s fingers stroked in and out of your weeping pussy. You were embarrassed at the wet, squelching noises you heard as he pumped in and out, unknowing that those same noises were making Choso’s cock rage in his sweatpants, precum creating a wet spot on the dark purple material. 
At this point, his fingers were sunk deep into your heat. Rubbing generously against your g-spot, his tongue returned to your throbbing clit, drawing circles around your nub with the tip while he quickened the pace with his fingers. Completely ignoring your pleas as your mewls of pleasure fall onto his ears like a dirty melody. 
“Choso please fuck I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum oh my god oh my god oh my god—“ you choked out before your hips instinctively snapped upwards, your uterus doing flips as your orgasm washes over you like a wave, making you lose control over your trembling legs. 
Choso let his fingers slide in and out of you slowly as you came, memorizing how tight your walls clenched as your body gave in. He honestly didn’t expect you to cum from him just eating you out and fingering you. But you did, and his heart fluttered in his chest as he smiled; you were just so cute, and the fact that he could make you cum before he put his dick in you made him feel a strange sense of pride in himself. “You’re so fucking pretty…” he murmurs, before withdrawing his fingers from your pussy, eliciting a small gasp from you that he quickly swallows up with his own mouth covering yours.  
“Mmm…” you moan into the kiss, shivering as his hands trail up your body, stopping to squeeze your tits and rub his thumbs over your nipples. He pulls away, his lidded eyes taking in your fucked-out expression, sweat gathered on your brow and your cheeks flushed a deep pink.
Choso nibbles on your lower lip before releasing it, grinning as he pushes you back on the bed, your legs parting as he settles between them, propping your thighs open with his own. “Now, are you gonna let me fuck you the way I know you deserve it, baby?” he teases, his eyes falling to the engorged and throbbing erection between his legs. "I’ve been wanting you all night..." He slowly guides the head of his cock to your entrance, eyes focused on the prize before him. His eyes search yours, waiting for you to utter your sweet permission one last time.
“Yes, please,” you murmur breathlessly, your heart racing as he positions himself at the entrance of your warm cunt. “I want you too, badly. Please…”
Your pleas fall on Choso’s ears like music, sending a sensation through his hard cock. A smirk tugs at his lips before he thrusts forward, burying himself inside you, groaning at how tight and wet you were. “Fuck, princess, you feel so good.” Slowly, he begins to move, setting a leisurely pace as he watches your reaction.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head immediately, the thick veins on his girthy cock stroking your gummy insides with each thrust. "F-feels so good..." you pant, shivering as he moves his body to hover over yours as he fucks you, caging you in with his forearms. You remove your hands from tightly gripping the sheets beneath you, moving them to instead grip his biceps, gasping loudly when he begins to move his hips faster, settling on a quicker, meaner pace. "W-wait... slow down..." you whine, and he looks into your eyes, giving you a devilish smile.
"Fuck no, baby. Not until I've made you cum again…” he whispers breathlessly. “Gonna make sure this pussy remembers every inch of my cock.” Choso grinds his hips, making sure he rubs against your g-spot when he withdraws and kisses your cervix with the tip of his cock when he thrusts back in. “Fuck, you're so fucking tight, baby.” He continues to fuck you with reckless abandon, watching the pleasure on your face as he moves, fucking you like the needy little slut he knew you were. “You’re gonna–fuck. You keep squeezing me like that, and you're gonna make me cum in this little cunt of yours. You want that, don’t you, baby?” he asks, narrowing his eyes as he catches your gaze, as if challenging you to say no.
But you don’t say no–instead, you’re nodding your head frantically, tears welling in your eyes as his cock continues to mash against the sweet spot deep in your cunt. “Yes, Cho. Want it bad. Wanna make you cum in me,” you whimper, gazing into his eyes with wet lashes as your tits bounce with each mean thrust.
Choso chuckles darkly, slowing his pace ever so slightly–enough to stave off his building orgasm, but not enough to leave you wanting. “Not yet, princess. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to stuff you full of my cum real soon…but first,” he whispers, spreading your legs wider and raising your knees to your shoulders, pressing down on your thighs in a mean mating press. “I want you to promise me not to go on any more worthless dates.”
Your mouth falls open in a salacious moan as you adjust to the new position, his cock hitting your cervix hard, his balls slapping against your ass. God, this was his condition for cumming in you? Did he really think you were about to forget all about the way he was fucking the living daylights out of you, only to run off with another mediocre dude who you knew would only waste your precious time? "M-mhm," you whimpered in agreement, nodding your head as he kept up his punishing pace. "I-I promise, Choso. No more dates. Just you...and you fucking me until–’til I'm a dripping mess."
Choso grinned, biting his lip as you agreed to his demand, his heart swelling with pride as he continued to fuck you. His pace was getting faster and more fervent, his shaft wetly slapping your clit with every thrust. His grip on your thighs tightens, smirking as he hits your sweet spot with expert precision, grunting as he feels your walls squeeze around him. His thrusts deepen, his heart beating faster as you agree to his demands. “Good girl. I would hate for you to waste another night on some other guy, when you could’ve been here, letting me put my cock where it belongs,” he smirks, his eyes dropping down to where you’re connected momentarily before meeting yours, the intensity of his gaze making you shiver. He moves the weight of his upper body to one arm, using the other hand to wrap around your throat and squeeze deliciously. “Now, shut up and take this dick, alright?”
You nod helplessly, your cunt fluttering around his cock at his degrading words that somehow make your heart swell. His hips begin to jerk even more roughly, his thrusts primal and violent. "That's my good girl. You know I’ll do anything for you, don't you?" He leaned down, nipping at your neck as he continued fucking you. "Fuck, I'm close, baby. Let me hear you cum for me again. I bet you’d sound so pretty cumming on my cock.”
"Y-yes, I’m gonna cum," you tell him, whimpering as he nips at your neck, yet moaning loudly as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. Each thrust of his hips causes you to cry out, your voice becoming more desperate and wild with each moment that passes. "I-I'll cum for you, Cho. Right here, on your cock. P-please, oh god, Cho, I'm so close..." You cling to his arms, your legs trembling around his waist as you feel your climax approaching, the pressure building and tightening within you.
Choso's thrusts became more frantic, his hips slamming into you as you cried out, his fingers digging into your thighs as he felt your pussy clench around him “Yes, baby. Cum for me. That’s it...” A dark, almost primal grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he felt his own orgasm building, the walls of your pussy gripping his cock desperately, urging him on. "Go on, angel, you know you want to. Cum for me...cum on my cock.” He continued to punctuate his words with deep, powerful thrusts, burying himself deeper and deeper into your core as he fucked you into oblivion. His hips became a blur, his pace increasing, his grip on your hips turning feral in his desire to make you cum for him one more time.
The familiar sensation of your cunt fluttering around his cock was all the warning you got before your entire body was seized by another blinding orgasm. Your broken cries erupted past your lips just as you sobbed, your voice breaking in a loud, throaty moan as you came, your cunt clenching around his throbbing length like a vice. “F-fuck…” you managed to choke out, unable to understand the rest of your incoherent babbles.
“Fuck, baby…” Choso growled as you came, your tight cunt clamping down on his cock like a vice, milking him as his eyes flicker shut. With a low moan, he crushed your mouth with a rough kiss, his hips stuttering in their movements as he shot thick ropes of cum into your needy pussy. He filled you up, his hot cum flooding your insides, making you whimper and shake as he came. He continued to move inside you gently as his orgasm subsided, before slowly withdrawing. He pulled you into his arms, not caring that you were coated in the evidence of your rough, passionate fuck. "H-hey, you’re okay. I got you, baby,” he whispered breathlessly, moving your sweat-slicked hair out of your face.
Your chest rose and fell with each pant that escaped your lips, your ears ringing and your wet lashes blinking rapidly as you came down from your body-shaking orgasm. You could faintly make out the sensation of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw and the sound of his voice, but you were too fucked-out to understand what he was saying. Instead, you focused your teary eyes on his face, raising a finger to press against his lips in a ‘hush’. “Shh…” you shakily commanded, your eyes lidding shut in bliss.
Choso chuckled, kissing your finger and grabbing your hand, interlacing your fingers together. “You’re so fucking cute…” he murmurs, his voice full of wonder and admiration. He presses a tender kiss to your lips, earning a sweet little moan of contentment from you that he knows originated from the depths of your heart. "Tomorrow night, angel, I'm gonna take you on a real date."
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please keep in mind that I block minors and ageless blogs. mdni.
please do not steal my work.
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fooled-around-and-fell · 10 months
Text
square one.
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summary: when carmen left for new york, he also left you. now he's back, unannounced, and no matter how angry you are at him... there's a small part of you that wants to see him again.
pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings: angst. cursing.
Masterlist
-----
you and carmen used to learn how to draw together. you'd watch classes from outside the shop because none of you could afford the actual class, and mrs. kendra was kind enough to let you two kids join in for free. under the condition that you'd help clean up, of course, but that was worth it.
as you grew up it was harder to see each other when you're both so focused on your careers, and the fact that your schedules never matched didn't help either.
you still kept in touch by texting each other, carmen made sure you always sent him a picture of your breakfast, lunch, and dinner because somehow you always miss a meal. but that also eventually stopped because you'd forget to take a picture and he'd forget to reply.
in fact, carmen stopped replying altogether. he disappeared one day. when you finally went to the beef to look for carmen, mikey told you carmen had left for new york.
he didn't even say goodbye.
-----
years after that -- after mikey's funeral, after the beef shut down, after it reopened to the bear... you wonder if you should go find him again. sugar has always told you to come visit, but she knows it's not that easy.
you've always had feelings for him, and part of you knows that he definitely knows. it's so obvious.
so did he choose to ignore it? all those years, was he just pretending that he didn't know?
standing in front of the bear, it seems ridiculous now to look for him. what are you going to say anyway?
"hey carm, it's nice to see you again."
"hey carm, why did you leave?"
"fuck you carmen."
"carmen."
"carmen!" you hear sugar's voice shout his name from the backdoor. you immediately hide behind a wall. they're arguing about something, and you're not sure why you're not already leaving.
maybe because you want to hear his voice. after years. maybe.. maybe you miss him. just a little.
there's so many questions you want to ask, so many things you want to tell him, but you don't know where to start.
"i'll call him back later."
and then there it is. your breath hitches when you hear his voice, and the little girl inside you decide to peek your head out to see him.
has he changed? is his hair different? is he dressed different? does he have the same tired look in his eyes? is he smiling more often?
there's a sense of longing when you see that he kept his curls and still has his naturally built stature. you vividly remember how it feels to be in his arms.
maybe you've been staring too long, because carmen can sense a pair of eyes staring at him and has begun turning his head. you manage to turn away just in time.
that was close.
your heart is beating fast, and you curse yourself for feeling this way. the same way you feel when he scolded you for not eating properly and then fixing you a meal.
the same way you feel when he used to help you out with drawings because he's just so good at it.
the same way you feel when he's just staring at you with a small smile on his face.
they're all just memories now.
you sigh and push yourself off the wall, walking home because you're too scared to confront him.
another day.
-----
you own a small boutique not far from the bear. it's not that hard to miss, especially since you're pretty famous for making custom shirts, dresses, jackets, all that stuff. especially for richie.
"hey cubby!" richie calls out. cubby, or cub, is the nickname mikey had given you the moment you couldn't separate from carmen when you were kids. a bear cub.
you walk to the front and see richie with a new, bright white button down shirt. looks real nice. "how can i help you, richie?"
"got a new shirt for a hot date. think you can help me shorten the sleeves a little bit?" he asks.
"of course. need this by tonight?" you ask before his phone rings.
"yep, you have my measurements, right?" he winks before taking the call. "oh, can you also drop it off by the bear? thanks, you're a doll, bye!"
you can't even protest because richie is long gone. sighing, you started working on the piece of clothing. richie's doing it in purpose, of course, he saw you yesterday peeking around the corner and he had to do something.
richie's shirt didn't even take you an hour to fix. to be honest it didn't even need fixing, richie was just being dramatic and playing cupid.
it's 3pm, and you know that the bear is probably empty right now. you could go, drop the shirt off, grab a sandwich to go and just leave.
yeah.
you can totally do that. it's fast, easy, and you won't run into carmen. definitely won't.
"cousin!"
you clench your jaw once you're one step into the restaurant. for once carmen isn't in the kitchen, he's by the cashier writing something down for richie to remember later.
"honestly, why is he always gone when i need him-" carmen's mutters stop when he sees you frozen in place.
how should you play this?
feign innocence? pretend like you never knew he's back from new york? or get angry and tell him you're hurt? fuck, doesn't that sound so petty and childish?
silently taking a deep breath, you walk to the cashier and hand him richie's nicely folded shirt. "hey. give this to richie, will you? thanks."
"o-oh. sure."
you turn to leave.
is he going to stop you? call your name? maybe once you're outside. once you're a few steps away, he's gonna call you and tell you to wait. he should, right? he will, right?
you keep hoping he's going to care, even if that means just giving you a second glance while you're walking out, but there's nothing. you're already back in your boutique and you realize carmen didn't even bother to.. do anything, really.
he just doesn't care about you that way.
-----
why did you have richie's shirt?
are you with richie now? casually? something more serious?
why did you have his shirt?
are you happy with richie?
why are you with richie?
"carmen!"
"what?!" he turns his head to sugar who's frowning at him worriedly.
she takes the knife in his hands and put them away. "what the hell were you thinking about?"
carmen sees the blood on the cutting board and curses. "nothing."
"wasn't nothing if you didn't even realize you'd cut yourself."
carmen washes his cut finger and pats it gently with a cloth. sugar helps him bandage the cut. she looks at him and sees he's still in distress. "is this about cubby?"
"what?" carmen frowns, almost forgetting the nickname mikey gave you. "no."
"carmen."
"it's not."
"stop denying it."
he looks away. "...she was here today."
sugar's eyes widen in surprise. "really? what was she doing here?"
"came to return richie's shirt." he says, chest tight. "didn't know they're together."
sugar wants to punch richie right now. "they're not."
"i dunno, seemed that way."
"believe me, they're not." sugar sighs. "i know her."
carmen frowns. it sounded like sugar was trying to poke a certain topic. "and i don't?"
"carm," she deadpans. "you disappeared on her. you really think she can be all chirpy when she sees you like.. what, almost 7 years later?"
his turn to sigh. "no, yeah. you're-you're right. she deserves to be happy."
"yes, she does." sugar emphasizes. "so what are you gonna do about it?"
-----
today seems particularly longer than any other day. you're bringing home a few yards of fabric to finish a client's requested dress, and you know it's gonna be a long night.
you just closed the shop and are about to leave when you see carmen standing nearby, hands in his pocket, a cigarette between his lips. he takes another drag before putting it out when he sees you.
he's facing you now, and you're not sure what to do. or what he wants.
carmen sees your uncomfortable expression and curses at himself. maybe he shouldn't have done this after all. he can just leave- no. don't do that.
"aren't you going to say anything?" you ask, not looking at him.
carmen feels like he's being pushed into a corner and gulps. "i... i don't really know what to say..."
anger bubbles up inside you. "well then what the fuck are you doing here? if you're not here to explain how you-" you stop yourself from going further. you're not going to let him know that you've been thinking about him for all this time.
"forget it." you sigh and walk away.
"no, wait." carmen chases after you. "i just... fuck, i'm not good with words, okay? i don't know how to say it."
"yeah? maybe leave for another 7 years and see if you can figure that out."
carmen stays silent and that angers you even more. you smile bitterly, "you know what, let me make it easier for you this time."
"goodbye, carmen."
-----
part 2 is OUT
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Sketches for an Alien Stage College AU ^^
There was initially only a focus on Ivantill, but I'm trying to work on an interesting plot for a Mizisua focus, too!
Either way, for anyone who's curious, I'll leave my ramblings about the Ivantill side below!
Basically, Ivan chose to go to a college because he was tired of private schooling and being a model all the time. He was lucky to have Sua as a support for getting accustomed to the new environment, although the two of them hadn’t seen each other in ages.
Ivan and Sua only texted each other on a few occasions, but other than that, they didn’t know much else about each other anymore as it had been years since their parents’ divorce.
Ivan was way more interested in the backgrounds of fashion rather than posing for magazine covers and everything, but he never had the chance to properly follow this interest. The same goes for exploring love as a gay man.
He had a reputation to keep up and wouldn’t want to disappoint his mother. However, now that he was older and was able to choose something for himself, he could finally start exploring such aspects of life. That was also when he met Till.
Ivan was quickly captivated by Till’s appearance and the things he did. Especially the drawings Till made caught his interest. Another special thing about Till was that he didn’t treat Ivan like the popular model he was. Till immediately treated him just like any other person.
Till on the other hand was a music major, producing his own music, working part-time at a café and live house, while also pursuing art as a hobby. He knew no rest, and Mizi, his best and pretty much only friend, had to check up on him regularly.
Unfortunately, Till has been struggling to find inspiration for new works in recent months, and it was difficult to keep up with all his work. On top of that, he had an unrequited crush on Mizi, which he couldn’t let go of.
After finding out about Mizi and Sua’s relationship, Till tried to forget about his feelings for Mizi without having to tell Mizi about it. It’d be best for everyone if he just slowly forgot. However, the feelings wouldn’t let him go, but he knew it was not fair to feel this way.
So eventually, he decided to confess his feelings simply to get rejected already. He feared possibly losing Mizi as a friend, but he couldn’t hide it from her any longer. Thankfully, Mizi is the best person ever and appreciated Till’s honesty and understood his issue.
Poor Till, however, only fell into a deeper inspirational pit after the confession. He thought that maybe things would go up after talking with Mizi, but things only seemed to get worse. Especially after meeting Ivan, he had an irritating person always asking what he was doing.
But what Till didn’t know yet was that Ivan would be just the person to give him fresh inspiration and new life, just like Till would show Ivan the freedom he never thought he would experience.
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drewsephrry · 3 months
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memories
Harry Styles x reader
Inspired by: Memories-Conan Gray
Warnings: alcohol consumption, yelling, crying (idk if it counts as a warning) cuss words
Words: 2.7k
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It was a rainy autumn night. She had a random movie playing in the background just to comfort her. She hated rain with passion. She hated that she was all alone and the only thing she could do to distract herself from it was look at old pictures.
Pictures from her childhood that were much too nostalgic for her, trying really hard to remember the name of the girl braiding her hair. Pictures from her vacation with her best friends from the previous summer, matching flower crowns and seashell necklaces on display. Pictures with her previous lover, that if she saw just two months ago she would cry her heart out but instead she smiled and reminisced about the tattoo he had let her draw on his skin shown in the photo.
It was a random Thursday night, the couple was chilling with their friends when Zayn told them that he had just acquired a tattoo gun. Harry was thrilled with the idea of putting more ink on his skin and even more so when Niall suggested that he let Y/N draw one on him.
Y/N had almost immediately shook her head in denial but Harry begged and begged until she sighed, defeated.
“Harry, you do know you're going to be stuck with it forever?” She warned.
“Yes, my love. Stop worrying about everything.” He tries to reassure her once more.
“But H, what if I mess it up? Or-or even worse we break up and you have it on your skin for the rest of your life?” She started asking with shakily hands, stuttering and failing to breathe properly.
“Y/N, honey, breathe. You'll be fine. Okay and what if you mess it up? That would just make it even more special to me. I love you and I completely trust you.” He puts his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down. “I'm not planning on breaking up with you anytime soon, maybe even ever. Unless you do and you're trying to let me down slowly, I don't see anything wrong with you tatting me.” He reassures her once again and she sighs, nodding. Harry smiles widely and pecks her lips, before pulling his long hair up in a bun.
After sterilizing the equipment and Zayn showing her how the gun works, she was ready. She didn't feel like it, but Harry squeezed her hand three times, their way of expressing their love to each other without actually saying anything.
She asked him multiple times, as the tattoo gun hit his skin if he was in any pain and if he needed anything, but Harry told her repeatedly he was fine and was praising her for her light touch.
After just a few minutes, the sketch, she had done on a random notebook Zayn had in his apartment, was brought to life.
A palm tree on the backside on his upper arm was delicately outlined and filled by her. She grabbed the handheld mirror that Zayn gave her and held it so Harry could see the work she did.
“Do you like it? If you don't, we can find something to cover it up with and I'll pay for it.” She suggested immediately, worried because he hadn't spoken yet. But the truth was he was mesmerized by it.
“I love it. It's so simple but yet done so beautifully. Thank you, my love. Thank you so so much.” He said kissing her lips. She smiled and sighed once again.
“Thank you for trusting me with this.”
“Well, you know what they say. Tat for tit!” He exclaimed jokingly, trying to lift her shirt when Y/N pushed his hand away giggling.
“You're such an idiot!”
Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door. She stopped gazing at her phone and another knock was heard. She got up from her couch cautiously. It was really late and it was pouring outside. Who could it be?
She grabbed the pepper spray from her handbag, as another knock was heard. She clutched her phone, close to her chest, ready to call the police.
She looked through the peephole and saw the one person she didn't expect to.
Harry was standing there, his hair sticking on his forehead and his clothes soaked.
She quickly unlocked the door and gasped.
“Harry, what are you doing here?” She asked, worried and confused.
“Need to talk with you, angel.” He slurred, an obvious sign he was drunk. He was pouting and his glossy, his green eyes were bloodshot telling her he was crying. His cologne was overcome by the smell of tequila. Y/N couldn't do anything else than open the door wider and gestured for him to come in.
She closed the door behind her and walked to her kitchen to pour some water for him, in hopes that he would sober up a little. He followed her like a wet and lost puppy that she couldn't turn away.
He takes a gulp of the water she hands him and smiles at her. She looked so cute and tiny compared to him, her hair was a little longer and her skin was still tanned from summer.
“I love you so much Y/N/N. I never wanted to hurt you.” He slurred again.
“But you did, H.” She couldn't tolerate standing there and listening to him pour his heart out when he broke her own a few months ago.
Y/N had started getting better. Getting over him. She was considering starting dating again. But seeing him like this made it so hard for her to think. Think about how fucked what he did and said was.
“Please, my baby, my love, listen to me. I made a huge mistake.” He was pulling his hair and trying to balance on his own two feet. He stumbled and fell to the floor, Y/N immediately reaching for him to make sure he was alright.
“I have missed you. I can't sleep without you. I barely eat anymore. I-I…don’t know what to do without you.” He confessed, tearing up. He pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat with his back on one of the kitchen cabinets.
Y/N was nodding, feeling upset and guilty she made him feel like this.
“H-Harry…I don't know what to say. Please, don't cry. You can stay with me tonight. We'll be fine.” She bent down to be eye level with him, comforting him and hugging him tightly. Neither one of them could deny how safe they felt in that moment, in each other's arms.
Y/N knew she was making a huge mistake, something her therapist won't be able to help with, something her friends cannot support and mostly she cannot expect any one of them to be there to pick up her pieces when everything would break down again.
Harry was led to her bedroom and she helped him lay down, removing his articles of clothing that he claimed felt like lava on his skin.
“Why were you all alone? Don't you still hate the rain?” He asked, getting under the covers of her bed, his eyes slightly closed. Y/N nodded and walked towards her side of the bed.
Y/N laid beside him, wrapping her arms around his back and to his front. He squeezed them three times, before quiet snores were the only thing heard.
How could she say goodbye to him again, when he just spent an entire night with her?
That morning Y/N woke up to an empty bed. She walked out to her living room, to see that she was all alone.
He had left her.
She walked to the kitchen with an ache in her chest and saw a plate with a stack of pancakes with maple syrup on her kitchen counter for her to indulge in.
She ended up spending her whole day crying and watching ‘The notebook’.
The next day, when Y/N's therapy appointment was scheduled, she told her about the night she spent with Harry, how she felt safe and for once, after a few months, slept like a baby and through the whole night.
Her therapist scolded her about her poor choices and talked to her about stepping forward.
A few days passed since Y/N's and Harry's last encounter. Y/N was getting ready for her best friend's birthday party when a knock was heard on her door. She yelled that she'll be right there, thinking it was the delivery guy with her food.
She grabbed her wallet and ran to the door with a wide smile on her face. Although when she opened the door, it was wiped away quickly. She swallowed and looked at Harry's green eyes.
“I missed holding you.” He slurred. Y/N was already running late to help her best friend with the party preparations. She was planning on getting there first out of everyone, to blow balloons and hang the garlands she had bought. But her meal hadn't arrived in time and now, this was happening.
She opened the door wide and he entered, he walked and sat down on her couch with a thump. He giggled at the sound he made and got quickly distracted by the show on her TV.
Y/N groaned and tried to keep in her mind what her therapist, mom and best friend told her.
“It's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning, over and over again.”
“Hey, come look at this! Monica got stung by a jellyfish!” He giggled, getting comfortable on her couch.
She cursed under her breath, thinking how he would fuck up her progress in getting over him. Now twice. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and walked in her bedroom to call her best friend.
“I'm really sorry, but I won't make it tonight.” She lied.
“What? Y/N, it's my birthday! You can't miss it.” Her best friend had furrowed her eyebrows, even if Y/N couldn't see it.
“I love you so much, I'll explain everything another time. And I am really and truly sorry.” She apologized again.
“Don't tell me he's there again.” Her best friend groaned and Y/N sighed.
“Y/N/N, he's no good for you. He's going to hurt you again. He's going to keep coming back since you're not turning him away. This is a never ending cycle, babe. Think about all the trauma he put you through. You need to put him in the past and move on.”
Y/N sighed defeated. Her best friend was right.
“Again, I'm really sorry.” She apologized one last time, before hanging up the phone. She walked back to the living room, where he was laying on the couch watching as Ross yelled ‘We were on a break!’. Harry chuckles at that and looks up to find you standing a few feet away from him.
“Care to join me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, making space for her and she smiled sadly as she nodded.
“Let me take my heels off really quick and I'll be right there.” She assured him, going inside her bedroom again, untying the straps from her heels and sitting down on her bed to catch her breath. She felt like throwing up. She felt her chest heating and that she was unable to breathe.
One, two.
One, two.
In, out.
In, out.
She was calm again.
The doorbell was heard, so she got up and out of her bedroom to find Harry already at the door.
“Stay the fuck away from her!” His slurred British accent alarming you. You ran quickly at the door and pushed Harry away from it.
“I'm really sorry about him, he's not feeling well. Thank you for your service!” Y/N tipped the now scared delivery guy, grabbing the bag of food from his hand and closing the door quickly. She pressed her back on it and sighed loudly.
“Don't be upset with me. He just wanted to get in your pants. I was trying to protect you. I always will.” Harry's eyes filled with tears once again. A laugh track was heard and she sighed again.
“It's okay, H. I'm fine. We're fine. Let's go eat!” She grabbed his hand and he smiled, wiping his eyes.
They spent the rest of the night cuddling on her couch.
The next day, he was gone again. She opened her phone to see multiple texts and calls from her best friend, telling her not to worry and that she would forgive her for bailing on her.
Y/N ignored all of them, including her therapist's email to confirm their weekly appointment. She knew that she would be disappointed to hear that she's taking more and more steps back.
A week later, she still hadn't heard a word from Harry and she waited for his appearance on her doorstep.
And there he was, a loud knock on the door startling her from the cookies she decided to bake as a stress reliever.
She ran to the door and opened it to find him there. He looked a little bit better than the last times he visited her, although he still reeked of tequila.
“Hello, my love.” He said, approaching her to kiss her lips. But she pulled away and shook her head. She opened the door wider for him to enter. He did and walked to the couch, sitting down and removing his shoes, already getting comfortable. Y/N couldn't take it anymore.
“We need to talk. I don't care if you're sober or drunk as fuck, but this has got to stop.” She said upset.
“What's bothering you baby? I can kiss it better.” He giggled and made grabby hands at her.
“Harry, I am serious. You can't keep doing this. There's no good reason to believe that we could ever exist again. I cannot be your friend. I definitely cannot be your lover. And I cannot be the reason we hold back each other from actually falling in love with someone else.” Y/N felt lighter after telling him exactly how she felt.
Harry felt a lump growing on his throat, his eyeline was gathering tears and he felt his chest tightening. Suddenly his head was clearer and he wasn't under the influence of alcohol completely.
“I just…you can't keep showing up, especially drunk, ruining everything. Expecting me that I would just take you back. You fucking traumatized me Harry. You broke my heart. And I'm trying so hard to forget you, to put you in the past and you're not letting me do that. You're just too busy playing the victim and acting like you are the one who's hurt, like you're the one that has a specialist taking care of you and your feelings. Can you just for once listen to me and stay the fuck away from me? Just…stay in my memories.”
She felt tears rolling down her cheeks, she didn't even notice she was crying. Harry looked down on the floor, sniffling. Y/N wiped her tears and sat down beside him.
“Since you came all the way over here, I'll let you stay. You can stay as long as it takes, but this is the last time. When you're going to leave, you're taking all of your books that you have left, your coat that’s still in my closet and that good cologne that you have left in my bathroom and it haunts me. It's still on my clothes and pretty much everything that I own and it makes me…feel like dying. I mean, I'm barely surviving as it is.”
Harry was feeling like his heart was being stabbed over and over again. He hadn't realized how much damage he had done to Y/N. He didn't want her to feel that way anymore.
He got off from her couch and walked to her bedroom grabbing his coat, the cologne from the bathroom and gathered the books from her bookcase, putting them inside a tote bag, which was also his.
“I'm not gonna bother you anymore. I-I am really sorry for the damage I did. I never meant to hurt you. I love you way too much and…I know what I'm saying is not gonna change anything but I needed to get it off my chest. I wish you only the best, my lo-Y/N. And I'll always be there for you, if you ever need me. But I'll just stay in your memories.”
He kissed her lips once. Twice. Three times.
When he pulled away both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, their eyes were red and their lips swollen from the kisses they shared.
“I guess this is goodbye.” Harry whispers. “For now.” He smiled and Y/N nodded.
“Goodbye H. Take care.”
A/N: just a lil valentines day gift lol, this was heartwrenching to write, hope you all enjoyed and cried with me
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daenysx · 1 year
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apparently i can't stop writing soft!aemond so here it is. i hope you enjoy it, requests are open!!
my masterlist
cups filled with love
modern!aemond tries to comfort his pregnant wife.
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another sleepless night and you feel terrible. last weeks of your pregnancy, your body is swollen and achy. all you want is a night full of sleep but sadly you can't have it tonight.
your husband sleeps on his side of the bed, he looks peaceful and relaxed. you don't want to wake him up, he already gets too tired all day long, just to finish all his work so he can spend more time with you.
you move to get out of bed, trying to be silent. maybe a cup of tea would help. all you do is putting your feet on the floor and he wakes up.
"my love, what happened?"
you get back in bed.
"nothing's wrong, i couldn't sleep so i was going to make a cup of tea."
he is still sleepy.
"please go back to sleep, i didn't want to wake you up."
he shooks his head.
"no, no it's fine. i'll make us tea, okay? wait for me sweetheart."
sometimes you feel bad because he tries so hard for you. you love him deeply and you don't want him to lose sleep over you but you can't stop him.
he comes back with two white cups in his hands. he hands you one of them.
"thank you, my love."
he puts his own cup on his nightstand and kisses your hair.
"are you okay?"
"yes, besides being swollen and sleepy."
he looks thoughtful and you know he tries to find a way to relieve you in his head.
"it's perfectly normal, aemond. please don't worry about it, soon it will all be okay."
"when we have our baby?"
"yes, when we have our baby." you smile at his happiness.
you straighten up in bed, he is behind you. he starts rubbing your shoulders and neck in a cautious way to not hurt you. you can't help the soft sounds coming out of your mouth. it feels so good to have his hands on you, trying to bring comfort to you.
his hands are on your waist, he touches you and applies soft pressure to the aching spots he knows so well now. he memorized every spot and every touch to relieve you. after he is done with your backside, he puts pillows to support your back and leans back to take his tea.
he drinks his tea faster than you, you don't like your drinks too hot so you have to wait for them to cool down a little bit. aemond loves them too hot, he doesn't get affected by the steam or hotness. blood of the dragon.
you drink your tea slowly as you play with your husband's hair. you have always loved his hair but right now it brings you comfort to have his soft platinum blonde locks around your fingers.
his hand is on your belly, softly rubbing it. his touch is so light you almost don't feel it. he knows how to bring comfort to you, he slowly brings his fingers to your thigh, drawing faint circles on it.
you finish your tea. you try to get comfortable in bed, as he helps you lay down properly. he keeps touching your belly, kissing your hair and whispering sweet nothings to your ear. you find comfort in his deep voice and soft touch. finally sleep comes to you and you quickly kiss his lips before closing your eyes.
939 notes · View notes
hyunfilms · 7 months
Text
blue side of the sky (lmh) | thirteen.
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♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.
—pairing: lee know x f. reader
—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 4.8k
—chapter content/warnings: day with the boys!!, soccer games and new friends, oc tapping back into her drawing, small affectionate kisses, other small gestures of affection, a bbq at the house with some karaoke lol, alcohol consumption/intoxication (not oc), protected sex, clit play/fingering, neck kisses, very soft and tender moments between oc x minho
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"Where's the cooler?" You ask Jisung as you neatly stack the blankets and bags of food into Chan's trunk.
"What cooler?" You cock a brow up and place a hand on your hip.
"You mean to tell me we were going to the park without any water or other drinks?" At this point, Minho and Chan are walking out of the house rolling a cooler and holding another tray of food.
"That's why you can't ask him to do anything." Minho chimes in.
"I remembered! I just.. was gonna do it last so the ice wouldn't melt, you know?" Chan laughs loudly.
"Mm, yeah sure." Chan responds after setting the cooler into the trunk, shutting it close and letting out a content sigh. "Are we ready? Where's Seungmin?"
"Seungmin is here." Seungmin walks out of the house and locks the front door before raising his camera. "Almost forgot this badboy." He runs straight to the passenger side. "Shotgun!" He laughs and slips himself into the seat.
"I'll sit in the middle." You shrug, sliding in so that the two boys can have their space at the end seats. Once everyone is buckled in and ready to go, Chan drives off to a park roughly 30 minutes away. You shut your eyes during the ride, leaning onto Minho's shoulder to offset the slight motion sickness you still experience. Your friends decided it was perfect weather to hang out, get some air and play some games before heading back home in time for dinner. A few of Chan's mutual friends and Seungmin and Jisung's close coworkers were also heading to the park, making it a nice get-together that wouldn't be too chaotic [hopefully].
Chan pulls up to a spot along the curb right in front of the large grassy field, surrounded by large trees that provided sufficient shade. Chan, Seungmin and Jisung's friends were already setting up at the center of the field, running over to greet your group. They all take their turns introducing you before you take your blanket and lay it under one of the trees. Chan sets the food and the cooler next to you, making it easily accessible for the group.
"Do you need anything? Water?" Chan says, digging through the cooler to make sure the ice is still covering the drinks properly.
"Please." You give him a toothless smile as he hands you a cold bottle.
"Medicine?"
"Took it this morning at the house."
"Food?" He points to the insulated bag that holds some gimbap that his mom made.
"Maybe in a bit." You giggle.
"Okay. Holler if you need us, yeah?" He calls out just as he's beginning to run over to his friends. The group starts acting chaotically, even as they work through dividing teams and back-ups. You giggle to yourself when Jisung gets way too carried away, acting incredibly sure of himself that he was going to carry his team to victory. Minho puts himself as backup for now, racing over to you on the blanket as the teams begin their first game of soccer. 
"Fuck, finally." He says as he plops down right next to you, already exhausted by the commotion.
"Too much going on, hm?"
"Yeah, and Jisung's all hyped and loud." You laugh and continue to sketch the field in front of you.
"Be nice."
"I am nice. Always." He smirks at you, playfully pinching your side.
"Hey!" You giggle, trying to smack his hand away from another attack. He laughs as he re-focuses on the group's game ahead, cheering for his team in between claps and yelling for them to pick up the pace. When Minho looks over at you, he smiles to himself when he catches how focused you are. You hold the pencil delicately, but your lips are formed into a pout while your brows are tightly knit. He glances at the sketch, watching the way the tip of your pencil glides over the page so flawlessly.
You had always been talented, there was no doubt about that. Before Minho fucked this all up, he used to hang up your paintings and random sketches all around his room. Even kept a napkin sketch of Link Kirby in his wallet just because he liked it so damn much and thought you were the cutest in the world— why on earth were you scribbling Link Kirby during the high school graduation party?
Even now, Minho thinks you're the cutest in the world. He doesn't wanna break the silence, but he can't help himself when he—
"Y/N." You look up from your sketchbook, glancing over to Minho on your left. He gives off a tiny, breathy laugh before smiling toothlessly at you.
"Yes?" He shakes his head. He just likes to look at you because sometimes, it's hard for him to process that this is real. That you're real, that you're here. The light bounces off your skin so flawlessly and suddenly, he's filled with overwhelming emotion—
Maybe he's gotten another chance to love you, to love you right. And if that's so, he'll never take this for granted.
"Nothing." His hand comes up to cup your cheek and you feel his thumb caress the surface. You lean into it for a bit and smile softly at him before quietly returning your attention to the sketch.
Love.
You are what Minho loves the most.
"Yo! Get your ass in there, I'm tapping out." Jisung huffs and puffs with his hands on his hips, approaching you two on the blanket. "You can do all that lovey-dovey stuff later." He tries to shoo Minho away.
"Tapping out? You didn't do anything except fall on your ass the entire time." Jisung mocks him and makes a face before firing back with:
"I was falling on my ass because I was being a good guard."
"Yeah, whatever." Minho says, jogging towards the field. 
"I'm just gonna lay here, cielo. Don't mind me." Jisung says, laying back on the blanket and closing his eyes. "If they ask for me, tell them I am off the clock."
"Of course, pachi. Whatever works for you." You chuckle to yourself as you start shading. You're convinced Jisung is fake-napping because he's awfully quiet during the time he's next to you. 
Doesn't stop everyone from calling him out and telling him to pick up the slack.
You're alone for the next half, but you get lots done with your sketches despite the yelling and chaos going on on the field. You've drawn the field, the small pond across the street. A lady walking her golden retriever. Minho and Seungmin standing off to the side as they wait. You've eaten one of the sandwiches Seungmin made, giving a piece to Minho when he runs over and steals a bite.
It's good times, good vibes.
You wanted nothing more than to have time for yourself, time to tap back into your creative spark.
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Back at the house, Jisung and Minho make way for you to shower first while they get the grill going in the backyard. Seungmin has his own bathroom in his room downstairs, and he offers to switch off with Chan once he's finished. You take a quick shower, throwing on some comfy cotton shorts and a shirt before heading down the steps to the living room and kitchen area. This gives way for Jisung and Minho to shower and switch off before running back down to help in the kitchen. Once things have settled a bit more, they have music going, the boys already a few shots in while sipping on beers. Minho is preparing some side dishes in the kitchen, while Jisung and Seungmin accompany Chan at the grill.
"Hey." You gently tap his side, making him look over his shoulder. "Do you need help?" He chuckles and shakes his head.
"No. They might though." He nods over at the boys outside.
"Do you need me to take anything outside before I go?"
"Mm, maybe just the water?"
"Okay." You smile up at him as you grab the water pitcher near him.
"Thank you." He says, giving you a quick kiss on the head before you turn on your heel and meet your friends outside. You set the water down near the fire pit and outdoor sectional before asking Chan if he needs anything at the grill. He shakes his head and urges you to sit and enjoy the fire pit, the sun slowly setting beneath the horizon. 
So, you do.
You watch your friends enjoy themselves to the music, laughing and singing along from where you're at. You feel at ease, you feel alive. Everything is perfect tonight.
Sooner or later, Jisung plops onto the sectional with you, sipping on his beer before kicking his feet up. 
"You doing okay?" He asks, leaning his head back against the couch.
"I am. Are you?"
"Kinda drunk already." He burps. "Shit."
"Kinda?" You chuckle. 
"Mhm." He nods. "Were you able to draw a lot today?"
"Mm, I drew enough. It was nice."
"Good, cielo. Glad to hear." He taps your leg before letting out a breath, watching as Minho brings the side dishes out and joins Chan at the grill. Every now and then, he glances over at you two, giving you a tiny, toothless smile before returning his attention back to Chan.
"Pachi?"
"Yes?"
"Did Minho and I really go through a lot?" You prop your leg up on the sectional and place your elbow on the edge, cheek resting on the palm of your hand. He looks at you for a moment before shrugging.
"Yeah, as with anybody else. Probably the best way to explain it." He doesn't really dive into it much, and his answers are obviously vague. You're not sure if he's just letting Minho take the reigns on this, or if he says it that way because the history truly isn't that bad. Jisung looks at you with a tiny pout before following up with— "But, things are better now. Right? You two have gotten cozy." You chuckle and kick his leg.
"Don't say it like that."
"It's true, though. You two have always had love for each other." He grabs his glass and swirls his beer around for a second. "You're happy?"
"Of course I am."
"No, but. I mean with Minho." He finally looks at you with doe-eyes, partially filled with relief, the other.. [perhaps] worry?
"Oh, yeah." You shrug. "I don't have a reason to not be." Jisung looks back down at his glass before saying anything, and you're not sure what it means.
"Mm, that's good to hear." He meets your eyes with a faint smile at the corner of his lips. "All I want is for you to be happy." And Jisung says it sincerely; he means this with all his heart, even if he might've gotten too protective and tried to shield you from parts of the past. He sees you happy and comfortable with Minho, and vice versa. Even though he was mad at Minho for trying again, he was also Jisung's bestfriend and he knew he was trying. It's all he wanted after the disconnect in the beginning. He's come to understand that maybe, you'll just always have that pull to him, and there was no way Jisung would stop that. He is just afraid, and he hopes Minho has truly learned from his mistakes.
He traces the top of his glass with his finger while he listens to you playfully bicker with Seungmin now. His thoughts are bombarding him while he's drunk and he kinda hates it.
Jisung just wants you happy.
But, raw, true, genuine happiness.
That's where he messed up as your bestfriend. Because you may be happy, but he knows they've shaped it this way— they've shaped it this way so you know nothing but happiness, though there are so many things that could shift it all.
He molded your happiness. You didn't get a chance to shape that yourself, and this— this is where he feels awful.
"Food's ready." Minho calls out, making you, Jisung and Seungmin grab plates before walking towards the food. Chan gives you a good serving on your plate with a bit of everything, laughing when he sees you do a little happy dance back in your seat.
The rest of the evening is pleasant, with the boys continuing to drink after eating, moving the party inside to sing their hearts out on karaoke. Minho sits next to you the entire night, occasionally throwing his arm around you, playfully holding your hand and making sure you are comfortable. You sing along with Seungmin and Jisung from time to time, giving all the high notes to the boys to hit. 
You were having a good time, and it was fun to be with your friends under one roof again. 
When it hits close to midnight, you gather the trash and start to clean up around the house when you notice the liveliness dying down. Seungmin is still singing softly through the mic, while Jisung and Chan are dozing off after getting incredibly drunk. 
"You didn't have to do that." Minho drags himself into the kitchen, watching you wash the last of the dishes with a huge trash bag next to you.
"It's okay. It wasn't much anyway." You chuckle as you set aside the last dish on the drying rack and shake off your hands. "Could you do me a small, teensy weensy favor?" He crosses his arms and leans against the counter.
"Depends. What's in it for me?" You laugh and playfully push him.
"Please take out the trash."
"Hm, but you don't think I'm serious, huh?" He playfully smirks. "What's in it for me?" He steps closer and challenges you.
"Minho." You whine. "Please?" He puckers his lips. He's feeling a little bold tonight because of the alcohol, but he also can't say that he hasn't been yearning to do this— sober or not. And he doesn't let up. But, you find it cute how he's being persistent.
One kiss wouldn't hurt, no?
So, you tiptoe and give the guy his little kiss. He immediately blushes, ears turning red in color before he clears his throat and grabs for the trash bag.
"Will that do it?"
"Maybe. But, since you're so cute, I'll take this out anyway." You roll your eyes just as he walks out to the back and heads for the garbage bin. Seungmin is starting to simmer on the mic once Minho comes back in and washes his hands. He turns off the machine and heads to his room, giving you a big bear hug and bidding his goodnights. He says he can't wait to sleep and he hopes you'll be able to sleep well in Jisung's bed since he's knocked out on the couch.
"Do you need anything before you go to bed?"
"No. I'm just going to wash up and change. I'll probably fall asleep as soon as I get to Jisung's bed." You tell Minho. He nods, giving you a quick hug and another kiss on the head before sending you off with a 'goodnight.' You quickly wash up and get ready for bed, changing into a crewneck and matching sweats to sleep in. Stepping out into the hallway, you see Minho's door cracked open with his tv illuminating parts of his room. You let out a breath before officially parting ways— walking into Jisung's room that is clean and tidy [for once]. You open his window a bit before drawing the covers back, slipping into his bed and sending your uncle a goodnight message.
Too bad you aren't sleepy as expected. Your body feels exhausted, but your mind is awake. You toss and turn a few times, grabbing at your phone to watch a few random vlogs to try and make yourself sleepy.
But, an hour passes— close to two— and you're still not sleepy. Though, you do find yourself needing to use the bathroom again.
The house is quiet.
Somewhat.
Jisung and Chan are still passed out in the living room, with snores bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout their entire house; Seungmin is sleeping soundly in his room, probably letting his music continue to lull him into a deep sleep.
As you quietly pad down the hallway and into the bathroom, you notice Minho's door still slightly ajar— lights from his TV reflecting off of the floor. You quickly relieve yourself in the bathroom and freshen up a bit, debating on whether or not you should bother Minho at this time of night.
What else do you have to lose? Sleep wasn't finding you, and apparently, it wasn't finding Minho either.
You give three soft knocks on his door before Minho lets out a small 'yeah?' on the other side— giving you the green light to poke your head through the crack and ask:
"Playing a game and watching tv?" You giggle as you glance between his computer screen and TV.
"I was, in between." He chuckles as you awkwardly stand off to the side and softly shut his door. "What're you doing awake?"
"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep and I saw the TV lights as I was going through the bathroom. I could go if you're gonna sleep?"
"No, it's okay." He pats his bed. "Sit and get comfortable. I just wasn't expecting you to be on the other side of the door, but I'm very glad it is you and not them bothering me." You chuckle.
"If you say so." You sit criss-crossed on his bed, letting your crewneck sleeves slip over your hands. Minho has Into the Spiderverse playing on his TV, his computer already shutting down and going into sleep mode. "Did you put this on?" You point at the screen.
"Mhm, it's the one movie series I don't mind re-watching."
"Nice." You focus on the movie for a bit, trying to pick up the pieces as to where the story was headed.
"Did you have fun today?" You glance at Minho before returning your attention to the tv.
"Yeah, I did. It was nice to draw and relax outside. Did you? It seemed like you guys had a blast playing."
"Mhm, sure did." Minho plops onto his bed and rests against his headboard, his arm lazily settling behind you with his hand on the bed. "I can change it, if you want?"
"No, you can keep it on." You give him a tiny smile before wiggling a little closer into his arm. "Minho?"
"Hm?" He hums when you turn back to look at him. You adjust your position on the bed, and Minho is able to rest his hand comfortably on the small of your back with the way you're angled. 
"Did you need to tell me something earlier? At the park?"
"Mm." He squints his eyes and furrows his brows. He knows the answer is 'yes,' but his instant response happens to be— "No. I just.. like looking at you." Your eyes soften at his sudden [and unexpected] response. "Helps me remember you're real." You look at him, stare at him, for a good while, trying to read his body language and expression. 
He is unreadable.
But, the one thing you do know is that you feel something for Minho. Almost like love, something that runs deeper.
"What do you feel when you look at me?" You ask softly, hand grabbing at his arm so that you can trace the faint lines on his palm. 
"What do I feel when I look at you?" Minho repeats before swallowing the lump in his throat because he knows he should probably be honest— but he's conflicted on how deep he's willing to go. 
Because he feels a lot when he sees you. He just doesn't wanna scare you or overwhelm you.
"Mhm." You look at him and he nods.
"Alot— I," He pauses, trying to figure out how he should put this. He didn't think he'd have to touch up on this now, but it's here and he's struggling. Moreso afraid than anything. He feels a whirlwind of emotions, but he'll focus on the positive because they outweigh everything else. How does he explain that he has always loved you, and doesn't think that has ever changed? Despite his period of stupidity, his lack of self-awareness. "I feel.. warmth? I feel attached. Adoration. Appreciation." He pauses again before looking you in the eyes. "Love."
"Love?" You face him a little more. "You feel love when you see me?"
"I do." He licks his lips before sitting up to feel closer to you. "It's always been that way." Your eyes widen a bit, but he can tell you're starting to shy away from all the things he's been saying. He means it though, he really does. You watch as he raises his hand to gently brush the hair out of your face and tuck it back behind an ear.  His hand falls to your cheek, thumb caressing the surface before he lets out a small sigh. "You taught me all about it."
"I did?" You respond close to a whisper, now watching Minho's eyes drift from yours, down to your nose— to your lips. No other question comes to mind, being that you're drawn into this sudden force of attraction that's pulling you two closer, and closer, together.
And Minho knows; god, he fucking knows this is terrible. But, he's so caught up in this moment, in you. There is the devil on his shoulder, the majority of him that is screaming to keep going. Because he wants to love you so badly, to take this chance and do you right this time around. No distractions, nothing to stop him. He loves you, he has always loved you— despite his stupidity.
Then, there is the angel on the other; a small part of him that is screaming to stop what he's feeling so that he can just be honest and be upfront about the past, give you what you deserve to work off of even though he wants to start 'fresh.' 
You're like a planet, all definitions astronomical. You deserve the world, and then some.
"You did." He says lowly. "Always." He pauses, lips inches away from yours. 
"I hope that never changes." Though, you are his bestfriend before anything, before whatever the past holds, before whatever this history has written you two to be; Minho was also like love to you, and you didn't think there was any other word to describe it.
"I could never look at you differently, Y/N. No matter what." You cup his cheeks and make him meet your eyes once again. It falls silent for a moment, a comfortable silence.
You should've seen it coming.
You can't really remember how quick it happened, or who made the move first, but you do remember feeling fireworks. 
Butterflies. 
A bolt of electricity down your body—
Minho's lips are on yours. For a second, you inch back in surprise. You can see Minho starting to regret his decision and you don't want him to get to that point. 
Because you don't regret that, and you probably won't regret what happens next.
You chase after his lips for another sweet kiss that he gladly takes. He lingers there for awhile before adjusting, allowing him to have more room to kiss you like he's been meaning to, like he's been yearning just as long as you have.
It feels so brand new, yet so familiar at the same time.
So natural.
He tries not to break the kisses for too long, even as he gently lays you back against his pillows and adjusts the covers— hovering over you and keeping his body close to yours. He continues because he feels your need behind your lips, the way you hungrily chase after him to close any distance. Almost like you can't be away for a second, like you'd lose him at the tip of your fingers.
Just like he's felt with you.
You do briefly pull away for a breather, your lips swollen and so majestic to look at while Minho continues to eye the rest of your features. He plants a kiss on your scars before taking his lips down to your neck, gently sucking at the surface before soothing it with his lips again. The need, want, for him continues to build when you feel him against you— every movement tickling your core and making you crave for his touch, for him.
"Y/N." He calls for you in between kisses, moving near your ear as his fingers fiddle with the waistband of your sweats. "Is this okay? Just tell me if you want me to stop and I'll stop."
"Keep going." He meets your gaze as you give him a shy, reassuring nod. He gives you another peck on the lips, hand now tugging your sweats down— tossed off to the side of the bed. At this point, you expect yourself to be nervous. You should feel nervous. But, you don't. Not an ounce of it. And it's probably because of the way Minho delicately touches you, kisses you, holds you.
You let out a small gasp against him when you feel his thumb pressed against your sensitive, clothed nub. He works in slow, circular motions, adding onto the pressure bubbling in your core. Satisfied with your reaction to his touch, he gives your thigh a squeeze before tugging your panties down. Minho's buried at the crook of your neck with your hands tangled at the ends of his hair, fingers now working their way into you at a slow, steady space.
"Minho. Need you." He hears before you let out a tiny whimper, body aching to feel more of him. He presses a kiss to your neck before adjusting to grab a condom at his nightstand. He's made sure he's tested and clean [mainly for his own sake], but tonight this feels different— he feels the need to take care of you, to be gentle, to be delicate. 
To love on you properly. 
This is where the universe has brought you two; this moment in time.
He fiddles with the condom for a bit before he's back to looking at you with the most adoration in his eyes. Soft, but so many feelings screaming to be let out. 
"Are you sure about this?" He asks, and you simply reply with a nod. He lets out a shaky breath, lips grazing against yours just as you feel him slowly enter. There's a slight burn at the contact but nothing unbearable, nothing that settles for too long, until he bottoms out and tries to get used to the feeling. His eyes are locked onto yours as he adjusts to find a steady rhythm, listening to your soft moans and whines just as he's slightly picking up the pace. 
You look so beautiful underneath him.
So right, so perfect.
"You're so pretty. So perfect for me." You hear him mutter against your ear, hands tugging at his hair as you find the courage to move with him and match his movements. He's wrapped up into you just as you with him, so wrapped up that he continues to praise you with sweet nothings; peppering your lips, face, neck with feathery kisses the hold so much behind them. His thumb finds his way back down to your clit, massaging tenderly until he feels you wiggling in his grasp. You feel the heat rising to your cheeks when you feel how quick you'll reach your high, but everything about this feels too good; feels too right.
"Minho— I'm gonna—" You pant out, chest heaving up and down as he's thrusting deeply and hitting all the right spots. You can't even form the rest of your sentence before you feel the immense wave of pleasure crashing over you. Minho watches your response, slipping out of his grasp when he feels your walls squeezing every bit of him. He gives it a good two, three more thrusts before he's unraveling; buried at the crook of your neck as he lets himself go into the condom.
"Are you okay?" He asks and meets your eyes once he's gathered himself. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No, I'm okay." You reassure him, and he pecks you on the lips. He disposes of the condom and grabs a few tissues to help clean you up and get you comfortable in his bed. He lays beside you after shutting the tv and lights, arm draped across the pillow as you lay on it and press your back against him. 
It falls into a quiet, comfortable silence again— one where you can listen to each other breathe, one where you can just feel and be in peace together.
Soothing.
"Hey." He says behind you, kissing the back of your head. You turn to face him, eyes slowly feeling heavy. "Are you comfortable?"
"Of course." You sleepily giggle. "I might fall asleep soon."
"Sleep."
"Goodnight?" He chuckles.
"Goodnight, princess." You snuggle against him some more and shut your eyes. It doesn't take long before Minho can tell that you've fallen asleep with the way your lips are slightly parted, breathing now at a soft, resting pace. Minho feels comfortable, feels safe.
Minho feels like love.
He doesn't fall asleep right away. Instead, he watches you sleep in his arms, kissing your forehead once more. He's trying to relish in the moment, but he's also wondering if this was the right way to go. Maybe he got wrapped up too into this and he should've waited. 
Things happened so fast.
He needed to tell you. 
You two have so much to talk about.
What does matter in this moment, is that he has always loved you and that has never changed. Despite his moment of stupidity, his lack of self-awareness.
Love.
"I love you." He whispers down to you before he finally feels like he can shut his eyes and try to get some sleep.
You, like a planet, all definitions astronomical; heavenly.
You, are love.
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julemmaes · 8 months
Text
Stuck
Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre modern au
A/N: idk wtf this is, I got an idea and then it spiralled into something completely different and considered how I ended I might write a second part where they fuck it out of their system, just for the sake of it
Enjoy!:)
Word count: ~2300
"No. Nonono, fuck no. Not today, please!" She cried, running her fingers through her hair and pulling at the roots until it hurt. 
Elide groaned, shutting her eyes closed. 
She tried to draw a deeper breath in and when the tight skin dress didn't stretch enough for her to do so, Elide felt anxiety crest. 
"Fuck me," she whined, running to her living room, where the biggest mirror in her flat leaned against the wall. Maybe the problem was that she couldn't see properly and something was obstructing the way. 
Turning with her back to the glass, she started slapping at her back, trying to reach for the zipper. Once her fingers closer around the tiny chip of metal, Elide yanked the thing down. 
Nothing.
She closed her eyes in despair, breathing through her nose. When air got stuck in her throat again she blew it from her mouth. 
Her eyes started stinging. 
"Please, not today." 
She had had the longest day at work and she needed to get out of this dress, so she could decompress after the tiring shift. But no, she couldn't. Of course not. The universe hated her and she was cursed. 
And she was stuck. 
She tried again, slower, gentler. The zipper didn't even shift. 
Elide never really considered herself claustrophobic, she easily got into elevators and toilet stalls without windows. She never felt any kind of panic whenever she was in tiny, crowded spaces and such. 
But she was starting to doubt how much she truly knew herself at this point.
She clutched her neck with a hand, forcing herself to take small, slow breaths, trying to calm down and think of a solution. 
Before she knew what she was doing, she was out of her apartment and striding down to the only other one she was sure wasn't vacant. 
She couldn't waste any time checking which neighbor was home or not and the music coming from apartment E24 was proof enough someone was in there.
She reached the door in the blink of an eye and started slamming her palm against the flat wood surface, so hard that her skin tingled with pain.
"Fuck!" A clearly masculine voice came from inside, “The Police!”
“Shut up, Fenrys, it’s not the Police,” another male voice came through. Whoever it was, they were immensely calmer than the former speaker. 
“Fuck you, Ro, you can’t know!” 
Elide called out, “I’m not the Police, please open the door!” 
“You open it, Dorian." 
“Are you for real?” Another person. 
"You're closer to it—"
"It's your house."
"—and I'm scared."
"Hellas above, I'll get the door." 
Elide didn't have time to step back that the door unlocked and a second later a guy larger than life stood in front of her. 
She sagged, leaning forward. She couldn't help the relieved whisper that escaped her. "Thank gods." 
He opened his mouth to speak, but she was already turning her back to him.
"I'm fucking stuck and if you don't help me right now I might collapse." 
Dramatic much, she could hear her best friend's words in her head. 
"I've been trying to get out of this hellish trap for twenty minutes and I–" she paused, panting as if she'd just ran a marathon, "–I can't really breathe."
When her plea was met with silence she turned her head enough to look over her shoulder and she only then realized how tall the man standing there was. 
He towered over her, by two heads. 
He was staring at her with parted lips and a furrowed brow.
"I'm sorry what?" His voice was rough, scratchy in a way that made Elide blush.
She whined, not above crying in front of strangers if it came to it, "The dress, it won't come off, I need you to zip it down. Please."
A loud, barking laugh came from inside the apartment and then a chorus of various voices started.
"I can't believe this is happening."
"No one will believe us when we tell this story."
"Lucky bastard." 
"I can't believe it myself and I'm living through it." 
Elide ignored the others and focused on the giant guy, looking him straight in the eyes, "Listen I just need you to pull it down, I can't do it myself and I live alone, please I…"
"Okay," he murmured. He stepped forward, lifting his hands toward her dress. He looked at her back before his eyes flitted to hers, "Can I?" 
"Please," Elide repeated. 
She tensed when his fingers brushed her skin, and held her breath when he brought the hems of the dress together and tried to pull the zipper down. 
"It doesn't work," he stated.
"No shit, Sherlock," someone said from inside. "She literally told you that." 
Elide brought her hands to her face and groaned for what felt like the thousandth time that night.
When he stepped back, she turned and eyed the others—there were seven guys, plus the titan standing next to her, in total. They seemed to be in the middle of some kind of videogame tournament. Snacks and joysticks lay everywhere and they were all wearing some kind of comfy clothes.
She had to hold back her smile when she realized she'd walked in on a slumber party.
"Do any of you know how to fix zippers or am I destined to die in this?" 
"I heard using soap works, come inside." 
Elide's attention shifted back to the guy next to her. She had to bend her head back to look him in the face. 
He was wearing black pants and a black sweater, and he had his arms crossed over his chest. He was eyeing her curiously, as if he was studying her. Elide couldn't say she minded the attention.
He was pretty good on the eye, too. 
Another one of the guys shot up, "Sure, let the stranger in, it's not like this is my house."
"You're right, I'm so sorry," Elide looked back at the room. She stepped inside nonetheless, "I'm Elide. Lochan. I live in E27? I think we crossed paths a couple of times?" 
"Oh, maybe." The owner of the house came up to her, extending a hand and flashing her a shit-eating grin, "Fenrys, Moonbeam." 
"Nice to meet you, where do you keep the soap?"
He seemed taken aback for a second and slowly lowered his hand. A few surprised snorts sounded in the room. He pointed a finger down the corridor, "Bathroom."
Someone brushed past her, murmuring a curt come as they passed. 
She didn't have to be told twice and followed the Wardrobe-wide Guy into the flat. 
He moved around the bathroom like he owned the place, and Elide would probably be embarrassed later when she realized she'd literally just barged into someone's house and demanded their help, but she needed to get out of this dress and couldn't really think of anything else at the moment.
"Turn around." 
Elide did as told without a word.
She hissed as a few droplets of cold water slid down her back. 
"Sorry," he grumbled. The soft sound of the soap bar grating against the zipper was the only audible thing. And she was growing aware of her surroundings.
"What's your name?"
"Lorcan." 
"Cool," she cleared her throat. "Cool, cool."
He huffed a breath. His version of a laugh, perhaps?
She felt the dress being pulled down, but nothing unzipping, then he clicked his tongue. 
"It's not working, is it?"
"Nah," he said, putting the soap back and washing his hands. "I could try with some oil." 
Elide let go of a shuddering breath, she just wanted out of it.
When she said nothing, Lorcan rounded her and stood in front of her, glancing down at her face. His chin jutted out, "You okay?" 
She nodded swiftly, offering a tight smile.
Now that she knew someone else was taking care of the issue at hand, she was feeling calmer. And she could think more clearly. 
The guy in front of her was stunning. 
He had long, black hair that reached his waist. Eyes just as dark and a white, deep scar that ran from the side of his forehead down to his temple that appeared even paler in contrast with his dark skin. She wondered how he'd gotten it.
"Are you claustrophobic or some shit like that?" 
That question brought her back to reality and made her aware of the fact that he'd been watching her just as closely.
She shook her head, "I'm just exhausted and I want to sleep. But I can't sleep in this."
His lips curled on one side and after a few seconds where they just studied each other, he jerked his head toward the living room before silently heading back. 
She was on his heels in a heartbeat.
The moment they stepped into the full room, Elide dared looking at the crowd. She stopped in the hall when one of them talked.
"Lorbear, I see you're no good at undressing ladies in distress." 
Lorbear. This group was close.
Elide snorted, rolling her eyes back and then fixing her stare on the blue-eyed prince charming that sat on the only armchair. "You think you could do better?" 
A white-haired guy chuckled, addressing her directly. "Our Dorian here hasn't seen a single dress in his entire life, he wouldn't know where to start." 
She smiled knowingly, enjoying the distraction as much as the friendly banter between the boys.
"Do I need to remind you how you met your girlfriend, Rowan?" Dorian grinned back, lifting a foot to poke at the other's leg.
Rowan—she supposed—tensed and clenched his jaw, slapping Dorian's foot away, "Please, don't."
Elide's interest was piqued, so much so that she wanted to ask questions, but Lorcan's voice called for her from the kitchen.
She waved at the others, "Wish me good luck." 
A chorus of good luck rose from the couches.
"Sorry," she said as she sauntered in the small kitchen, "I got stopped."
Lorcan gestured at her to turn around, "Don't mind them, they're all jerks."
"I like them," she shrugged as she positioned in front of him. "Plus, you're the one hanging out with them, if you really thought that, I don't think you'd be here." 
His fingers slipped under the fabric on her back and something coarse scratched at her skin.
"It's paper, so you don't get oily," he warned. 
"Oh," she was surprised. By the small kind gesture, and by the reaction her body was having to the infinitely unimportant brush of his touch. "Thanks."
"No prob," he drawled, his voice traveling over the back of her neck.
Elide scrunched her nose. What was she doing?
"Would you mind leaning forward a bit for me, 'lide?" 
'Lide.
She was going to die. 
You're not, Manon's voice sounded amused in her head as she obeyed. 
They went through the process again, just for the zipper to not even budge.
He cleaned the metal, wiping it until it was dry enough that it wouldn't dirty her. 
She turned to face him again and he bent his head to the side, scratching his jaw.
"Can I cut it?"
A laugh bubbled up in her throat, "No, it's my work uniform, you can't cut it." 
He stared at her for the longest time, then went, "Are you wearing a bra?" 
What?
Someone laughed from the other room, "Smooth, Slavaterre. Really smooth." 
Lorcan huffed, running a hand down his face, "I was wondering if we could take it off from the head. You know, like a shirt."
Elide suddenly felt stupid. She blushed lightly and muttered, "I didn't think of it." 
"So?"
It was her turn to stare at him, in silence, contemplating her next move. 
The way his gaze didn't falter for half a second gave her a kind of confidence she rarely possesses these days.
She shook her head, "Yes, I am." 
"Do you think you can do it by yourself?"
She nodded.
Lorcan hummed, "I guess my part is done here, then." 
"I guess," she replied, never stepping back from the staring contest. 
When his eyes slid lower, slowly, to her mouth, she smirked. He mimicked her, and his tongue came out to wet his plump lip.
It wasn't her style, not really how she found hookups, but Lorcan was attractive and seemed to be really appreciative of whatever he was seeing in her. 
"What if," she added, speaking so softly that only he could hear her, "I get stuck?" 
Something glimmered in his eyes, and he took a step forward. The movement forced her head further back and when his hand lifted to play with the hem of her sleeve, her arms covered in goosebumps. 
"I could help with that," he rasped, caressing her shoulder. He ran a finger down her collarbone and Elide took a sharp breath in. 
Their eyes met again and she swallowed. 
"Then I'll make sure to call you, if it comes to that." 
Lorcan's lips curled again, tempting, "I would love that." 
Fenrys' scream came sharp as a needle, bursting their bubble of tension and longing. 
"Don't you dare make out in my kitchen!" 
Elide averted her gaze, pushing her tongue against her cheek to avoid laughing. She really liked these people.
Lorcan stepped back until a good two meters distanced them and then inhaled, extending a hand toward the living room. 
She walked out of the kitchen first, heading directly for the front door. 
She spared a long look at Lorcan, letting him see the sincerity behind her next words, "You know where to find me, Salvaterre, if you ever need company." 
She loved the taste of his name on her tongue.
He smirked, taking his stance next to the kitchen door. He nodded his head once, clearly letting her know he would take up on her words. 
She didn't even look at the rest of the guys as she said goodbye and left, closing the door behind her.
She was halfway down the corridor when shouts and cheers exploded from Fenrys' flat.
Oh, just how fast things had changed.
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luveline · 2 years
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hi jade!! could i please request a steve harrington x luna lovegood!reader? i don't have an specific idea in mind, sorry about that. <33
r makes her move on a lovestruck Steve! ty for ur request ♡ fem!reader
"Stevie," you sing quietly, creeping up behind him. He knows you're there because you'd bumped into a cardboard cutout and apologised, but otherwise he'd have jumped a half mile. 
"You walk, like, silently, you know? It's creepy," he says mildly, on his knees in front of the horror tapes. 
"Thank you." You're completely genuine. Steve's glad – he's not insulting you to be cruel. He's trying to flirt. 
He'd tried the normal route. Called you pretty, asked for your number, taken you out. And while you'd eagerly accepted each of his advances, you hadn't seemed to clock that they were of romantic intent. 
So now he's taking relationship tips from thirteen year old boys and hoping something will stick. 
"What do you want, trouble?" 
"I don't want any trouble," you say, kneeling down beside him. 
Your skirt falls around your thighs in a pretty heap of thin, flowing fabric. There's a horrendous bruise on your leg, though whether you know it's there or not is anyone's guess. 
"No, I mean- how are you?" he asks. 
"I miss you like crazy. You didn't call me last night." 
His hand slows where it's reaching out for a tape. He looks down at your bruise and asks tentatively, "You wanted me to?" 
"Duh." You hand him the movie he'd been aiming for and dip your chin to your chest slightly, drawing his gaze. "Wanna go get food?" 
"I'm working." 
You wrinkle your nose like this hadn't occurred to you. "After?" 
"Sure. Are you hungry now? I have a peanut butter-" 
"No, it's okay." 
He nods to himself. "Okay," he mumbles. 
You lay out all the tapes in the plastic tub he'd been carrying them in on the ground and start to sort them from most scary to least, asking his opinion every now and then. 
"You've seen all these?"
"No, I'm going by cover. This one?" you ask, holding up The Morgan Murders with a curious smile. 
"Definitely least scary." 
He shoves the rest of the movies on the shelves, leaving your least to most ranking intact on the very bottom. 
"How'd you hurt yourself?" he asks, standing up and offering you his hand.
You take it, your palm soft as silk. He knows your hands must smell nice because he's seen your little tube of herbal hand cream. He wonders what it smells like.
He cringes at himself and goes to drop your hand. You hold on tightly but let them hang between you, eyes wide as you explain your injury. 
"I fell in the bathroom." 
His eyes fly to your head. "Are you okay?" 
"Of course I am. I slept really well after, like half a day! I think I reset my sleep cycle. Although, that might be 'cos I stayed up to try and find a Lunar Moth yesterday." 
He takes a while to let all of that sink in, your fingers gentle where they've curled around the back of his hand. He uses the little bit of height he has over you to lean over your shoulder and check the back of your head for bumps. 
"Why didn't you call me?" you ask. 
Steve can't believe you're still holding his hand, to be honest, and he blames it entirely for his ineptitude. "I didn't think you were interested." 
"In what?" 
"In me." 
"Oh…" You step between his shoes and look up at him. "Please call me tonight." 
"I thought we were going to get food?" 
"After food." 
He shrugs, more blase than he feels. "Okay. Whatever you want." 
Your smile is blinding. Despite your general attitude, Steve can count the amount of times he's seen you smile on one hand. It really does stun him, worse when you look down at your joined hands and thread your fingers together properly. 
"You have bigger fingers than me," you say conversationally, "so you'd worry that we wouldn't fit together, but look." You squeeze his hand.  
Steve short-circuits.
"How about we go for food now?" he asks. 
Another blinding smile. Steve could get used to those. "Really?" 
"Yeah. I'll take a sick day." 
Your head skews quizzically to the side. "You don't look sick." 
"I'll explain in the car." 
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bluginkgo · 2 months
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Just what in the fack did I watch... I'm gonna go watch it again just for funsies and to cry again (Rambles/Thoughts)
This post will mostly contain random rambles and thoughts I had while watching and rewatching the episode. And a lot of this is just going to be me ranting about scenes (the rants will most likely make you wanna go "Ginkgo, that's common sense we can see it smh." XD Just roll with it. Oh and NUzi scenes
Spoilers, duh and lots of words. Oh and gore warning? Kinda?
I mean... that scary *ss mother facking thing towards the end- you know what I'm talking about if you watched the ep 😅
First thing I found interesting, is how the Solver behaves in this scene. It's mere shadows, not even fully manifested. Further proves that the Solver transcends simple time and space, and is on a different plane of existence- a 4th dimension if you will.
The humans did, in fact, learn how to control the Solver. The pentagram like projections act as gravity enforcers and lights that subdue the solver for a period of time. Buuuut it seems that it's not full proof. It seems that this occurance is fairly common, seeing as the workers nearby were not very concerned that an eldrich being was about to break loose.
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Alright another slow moment here. But I had to google wtf "MacGuffin" meant (English isn't my first language, so take it easy on me ;w;). And taking this straight from the google search "an object or device in a movie or a book that serves merely as a trigger for the plot." So most likely, the Absolute Solver is referring to the fact that Mitchell the intern set things in motion simply because he was mistaken for the real Dr. Chambers... Classic- CLASSIC human mistake XD
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So... Heart/Nori. Something interesting is going on with her. I believe Nori WAS injured by the DDs and had to be finished off by Khan. I'll touch on Khan a bit later. But, just as seen with Eldrich J... I'm not sure why I've never thought of this before! It makes sense for Nori's corrupted core: Heart, to still function properly. Meaning, she could have snuck away when she was killed and returned to the cathedral to search for the crucifix. Uzi gets most of her style from Nori 🥹. Seems like Uzi got her mom's style and Khan's engineering abilities.
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I had it all wrong- and I am ALL FOR IT! N wasn't afraid of something he saw ahead. He was upset with what they left BEHIND! V! And THIS ENTIRE SCENE
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You cannot believe how surprised I was. This scene was so much better than I could have imagined it. Yes, it was painful to watch, but sweet robo-god this was executed SO DAM WELL TwT It was delicious angst. And Tessa was not in fact drawing her sword on Uzi, but instead protecting her... kinda... with an ulterior motive of course.
The gut wrenching betrayal right there. The animation team did a wonderful job at animating the betrayal and how it manifested in Uzi. Disbelief and then anger.
Not to mention her stumble. I hyper fixated on that stumble a bit too much on my first 2 watches. (Yes, I've rewatched the episode 8 times now, hush I love it XD). Her stumble shows weakness. And in that moment, she wishes to be anything BUT weak. The suspicion of betrayal is settling in, and she needs to be able to fight back. But her body is giving out. The events are taking a toll on her. And makes me appreciate the animation detail that much more.
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This scene N is definitely angry. He's trying his best to keep it together and Tessa's pressure to injure and kill Uzi is not helping. So for him to be talking to Uzi, while glaring at Tessa is just him driving the point home. He is NOT going to hurt Uzi, no matter what they might find down in the labs.
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But a poor choice of words that was. It gives Uzi a glimpse of what was actually happening and what has been bothering N. The trust vaporizes, and with it, any attempts with communication.
And what I believe, gives a nod back to ep2. As N steps in to try to help Uzi up, she retreats. Same happens in this episode. And the kicker? "Falling... for you" song starts lightly playing in the background.
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This is far too comical after he says he deserves to have his limbs cut off. The whiplash I got from that is ridiculous... in a sad and funny way.
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What an amazing shot. But it does paint a picture of what the DDs have done. Perhaps the blood also acted as cooling agents, and this is why the trend continued with robots- except this time around as oil. And this is what the Administration CYN most likely blocked out. Not only the manor time, but also the bloodbath that followed as Earth collapsed.
THE DOG MADE IT IN AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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It's interesting on how the solver manifests in the drones. It seems that Uzi's wings and tail, do not make the solver go insane, and she can continue to use it. However, later in the episode the same wings and tail go berserk. So it seems that once the transformation has set in- like with Uzi- it becomes part of the drone rather something that is manifested by the Absolute Solver's control.
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SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE XD Part 2A that Khan refers to is on the bottom left corner, the green core that Uzi got a hold of back in pilot episode- also titled as "I think this is a robot liver or something lol."
Plan B: Uzi could have had a normal gun if railgun didn't work. Bottom right corner
Top left corner under Uzi's railgun title: "30 min recharge time. That'll be fine." Famous last words ever XD
Top right corner: "Other things it can do: Not judge me, force prom dance, I can say I had friends but fricken murdered them with sci fi weaponry."
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I love how sassy he is here XD His character development and arc is something that I will never forget. He has definitely come a great ways. Khan also seems adamant about his wife being completely dead. Which proves that he didn't know a single thing about the Absolute Solver and what it can do. He could only reference Nori's insane drawings and deduce that the planet was going to eat them all soon.
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Idk if this is just my tired brain, but this comment felt like a joke to me. (Remember, I don't know anything about computers and the language ;w;) But the physical patch to save herself... as in, the same patches that are sent out for games/programs to fix bugs? That's the joke I got out of that one 😅
This entire sequence was something out of my nightmares XD The heel tapping that KEPT GETTING QUICKER definitely had me reeling back from the screen XD
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The Nori and Yeva scene was so wholesome 🥹. I loved the way the animators showed their interaction. Despite the hellish events, they were still close.
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My only issue with this image is, on what is Doll moving? Not like the floor. The core is gone from her body, what the heck is still driving her forward? Perhaps just on the sheer will to warn Uzi to "fight back." And I suppose I can see how she could still move without her main core. Almost acting like chickens do, when you cut their heads off. One was able to live for 18 months after the head was cut. So I suppose I can get behind the idea that Doll's final wish was to warn Uzi, at the very least, and thus forced the body to move until it did so.
But then, Tessa shows up. Which makes me wonder if she was the one that simply lead Doll's body to come to Uzi. How? Uhhh... Absolute Solver! Let's just go with that sweat face. The con in that theory is a simple: why? Why bother leading Doll to Uzi? To spook her? To give a false reason to attack Uzi? Given that N was still very much behind them all, I don't see why the Absolute Solver would try to make up some odd reason to attack Uzi. It could just simply... go ahead. There was no one there to fool, and could incapacitate Uzi easily. Buuuut I could also be looking too deep into this, as per usual.
Hey guess what.
I found the answer. XD Just as I'm typing this up, a frame popped up.
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Yup, the core was still inside and thus running Doll and thus Doll could move, ok carry on. XD
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Emotions spike the Absolute Solver, something that I love seeing and appears to be less headcanon and more canon at this point for me. Through the entire episode, the Solver keeps glitching out and forcing Uzi to lose control because in this situation, she's very stressed. A betrayal, a misunderstanding, learning about the past, everything becomes too much. This makes keeping the solver at bay that much harder.
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He did NOT give her any chance. Yes or no, Tessa. That suddenness surprised me- in a good way. This shows how much N has grown. He's willing to stand up for his beliefs that much better. If he suspects something, he now acts on it, and does not wait for the other side to perhaps change his mind.
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This scene. This scene shall live in my head rent free for a long while... Actually, the entire episode is gonna live rent free for a while. XD Not to mention the "Falling... for you" song plays in the background yet again. Ugh, pulling on heart strings there ;w;
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They had us all fooled XD The hand lights were on just to trick us, and in fact were meant to be off this entire time! Oh you sneaky sneaky people. >w<
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ALL OF THESE SCENES, they're all so cruel but SO GOOD TwT So cruel in context of how tortured N must be to fight Uzi, but so good in context that this fight sequence and animation is executed SO WELL. All of Nori's slaps were so personal XD Mama Nori educating NUzi
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When I saw this scene, I couldn't help but think of ep3 and their dance. This entire episode is so bittersweet ;w;
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She's still there TwT And she sees this entire fight. Of what she has become and done to N and omg I'm crying again. Moving on.
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OMG YOU SILLY GOOBER BAHAHAHAHAHAHAH XD I love Nori/Heart's reaction, but the Absolute Solver also gets me laughing a bit too hard. "WHAT." That's so simple yet so effective. "What. Why. You are a DD I sent to kill the hosts, why are you hanging out."
The entire scene with NUzi screaming. Just. YES. What better way of gettin rid of stress than screaming! ^_^
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Oh you sneaky, sneaky people. Well, all I can say, you got me. You got me good. This is something I didn't think of, but should have. It's simple to get these shots with certain rigs missing. And it was done seamlessly. Well done, well done. I begrudgingly applaud you. XD
HE'S PATTING HER HEAD AAAAHHHHH *proceeds to ascend to another realm*
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They did not... omg they did XD Ah, yes, welcome a new horror oh and by the way here- :3 a cute face
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Omg they look so cool- KHAN WTF XD
LOL J THE PRIOR HAZARD WARNING AHAHAHAHAHA
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The way she shook his hand trying to snap him back to himself and wake up 😭. And the entire sequence following this... I'm just now slowly starting to process it, oh and great I'm sobbing again. Alright, moving on.
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Well, I have some thoughts in this. This is personal thoughts, thus this is where you are more than free to yeet this section into the void that Uzi was dragged into... sorry that was a bad joke- anyways. "Die mad." I feel like this is her way of telling N to not give up. To go out there and FIGHT. But if he can't win, then to die like she is. To die in a way that he will be proud of and to go batsh*t crazy. Because by now, Uzi must know that all of their chances of survival are slim. So you might as well go out with a bang and "die mad."
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Something I noticed and was further solidified when @bloodywolfwings also mentioned it. Uzi looks at peace here and very accepting of death. And I say, yes, she very much is. I think this was a way of her asking N for forgiveness. For getting mad at him in the beginning of the episode, for failing to be useful/protecting N, and for fighting against him- despite being possessed. And perhaps even, as an incredibly insane and radical thought, for loving him. This entire episode has put the characters and us through the wringer, and that "sacrifice" was just the cherry on top.
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Something I have seen already mentioned once at very least (by @/rebecca-babe) and something that also put me on edge was the ending credits... or the lack of. Of course, all the credits roll, but it's not the usual type. Instead of an upbeat music that is either "Uzi the drone killer" or a theme that was seen in the episode... its SILENCE. Being a musician myself, I love how much love has been put into Murder Drones. The sound effects and the main music are always top-notch. But that ending unsettled me the most. The lack of all noise is something that is terrifying and unsettling in that ending. Almost like all the music and sound left with the "sacrifice" of the main character, Uzi. The entire episode was filled with sounds, silence only being present when something incredibly WRONG was happening - like at the beginning when intern Mitchell re-entered the cathedral. And as much as I love how well executed this entire scene was, I hated it. Because that scene does the job that it was set out to do. Put you on edge, and make you feel like all hope is lost. That this is it. This is the end.
This is the end of my rambles and thoughts that I had while watching ep7. I may have more later on as I keep rewatching this episode for the rest of the week ;w;
Want to hear more of my stupid rambles? This has 3 other parts!
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ꕤ | Inked | Percy De Rolo
— VOX MACHINA : switch!percy x femcumslut!reader
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✩ 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀: ​you're the first to fall asleep at a party, and you get cumslut written over your forehead with a marker. it causes an "issue" for percy a few hours later. ✩ 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊: fic (Part 1), 1.8k words ✩ 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: missing consent/dubcon (percy as victim), powerplay (subby percy into dom percy), degredation, namecalling (cumsl*t, wh*re, l*ve), somnophelia, cumhungry!reader, power dynamic switch, sir, mentions of breeding
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝘿𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙀: i did not proofread this :') hopefulyl its legible BUT eventually i'll go back and make the edits i need. the idea was inspired by this post, and it's probably (?) not done yet.
♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘟 𝘔𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘈 | 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌
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“Oh cmon, wasn’t the bet that the first one asleep gets a dick drawn on their forehead?” 
Percy, your boyfriend, shoots Scanlan a dirty look through his rosy drunk cheeks. “Have you no decency? She’s a lady for God’s sake, Scanlan. How will I explain to all of Whitestone tomorrow if we have to leave the confines of our home?” 
The pop of a marker and the cap clicking against the floor was enough of a signal that Scanlan didn’t quite care all that much for the high maintenance prince. “Well, then you have an excuse to stay in for a day. Resting’s important, Percy,” he says, before hopping onto a stool to get to your head, slumped over on the couch. Percy stumbles to his feet to try and stop him from putting that bright pink ink on your skin, but he’s forced back into his chair at the hand of Vax. 
“Hey, he’s right, you know. You kind of need a day at home, if you ask me,” Vax says, leaning his weight on Percy’s shoulder to keep him down. Percy glares at him too, going to shove his hand away so that he could get to you, but to no avail. Percy’s too wasted for hand eye coordination.
“Oh, Percy, darling, relax,” his sister says from across the table, looking at Scanlan trying to balance and draw on your knocked out face. “She agreed to the game before we even started drinking, and she’s an adult, so I’m sure she’ll be fine. And if she isn’t– well, you can make sure she’s fine. In the morning. No more fussing about it now, you can barely get to your feet,” she says, words slurring before taking a swig out of her bottle. 
He can’t relax, at least not when Pike isn’t around. Pike’s usually the babysitter of the group, and with Keyleth vomiting her guts out again, they were somewhere downstairs in the bathroom. Grog wouldn’t be of much help either– he was entranced in some sort of conversation with his reflection in the mirror, flexing and unflexing his muscles to look at. 
“Annnnnd, ta-da!” Scanlan grins, showing the marvel to the three others in the room. Cumslut was written across your forehead in big, bold letters, with a penis as the T. Scanlan was really, an artist of all trades.
Percy was the first to react, and the only one that didn’t burst out in absolute side pinching tears. “Scanlan! You little useless bard!” He swung around to Vex and Vax. “I thought we agreed that it would be the dick drawing?”
“Well,–” Vex laughs, whipping away his tears. “There is a dick. There’s just–” he makes eye contact with Vex across the table, who was holding her own laughter for a little before the two burst out again into hearty giggles. “–some other additions.”
Percy sighed. There wasn’t really another other choice; what’s done is done. Hopefully you wouldn’t be too mad when you woke up in the morning about it. And hopefully, the ink would come off soon.
-
Percy, with his lithe frame, was not the one that carried you into bed. Grog actually carried the both of you into bed– bragging that he could do anything with his giant muscles. Percy would have been grateful for that omission of an opportunity to make a fool out of himself, had he been properly awake during that time of the night. He’d passed out on his own accord after a few more shots into the night.
It didn’t take long before he stirred awake. Alcohol never quite helped keep him asleep as well as it put him to sleep. But his body sure felt warm, skin flushed a little as he reveled in the pleasure of being under clean sheets. There was also pleasure budding from his core, some shifting between his legs– 
“What on earth?!–” he manages to choke out before throwing his head backwards as some cavern of warm, wet heat descends on him. It felt good and needy and desperate, and when he had the moment to take a breath from the sudden crashing waves of pleasure, he lifted the blankets to find you, face nestled neatly between his legs, with his cock in your mouth and a protruding cheek. 
“My love,” he says, voice soft and hitched at first. “Y-you need to stop or else,–” A groan cuts through, his hands fisting the sheet that he’s holding up to see you kitten licking his tip. 
“What’s gotten into you?” he hisses, but he doesn’t get an answer because you take his whole length into your mouth again, mushroom tip gliding against the roof of your mouth before sinking into your back tongue. He’s watching you, or doing the best he can with his eyes half-lidded and his mouth agape. When you wrap your hands around his base, twisting and bobbing at the same time, Percy grimaces, one eye forcing itself shut as he watches you with the other. His cheeks are flushed a deep red, and his skin feels sticky under the touch of your fingers, but all you can think about is his cum, and how much you want it down your throat. 
“S-slow d-down,” he stutters, a frustrated moan drawing out of his throat when you don’t listen. He can’t stop his hips from bucking up into your mouth, the sensation of your tongue swirling around the tip all too much for him. He’s close, and you know that, feeling his balls twitching under your chin– and perfect, because that’s exactly what you want. So you keep at it, watching him writhe and pant and seize up with his head thrown back and his eyes cross when he cums down your throat. It’s sticky and a little bitter from the alcohol, but you don’t mind it at all, because you’ve been craving this feeling since you woke up. You suck, and suck, and keep sucking him, milking every little bit that you can. 
He’s a whimpering mess now, his other hand grabbing you by the hair to attempt to pull you off his cock. 
“Love, love, please– please stop, I’m done, I can’t–” but that gets cut off by another moan, his knees shaking and bottoming out underneath you as your hands work his cock from base to tip, using spit and cum as lube. 
He’s never seen you like this before, so needy, so pushy for it– whatever it, was. In a moment of clarity as your hands lift on the pressure to his cock, he reads the word on your forehead again. Cumslut.
He puts two and two together in the middle of a desperate whimper, throwing his head to the side as the pleasure in his overstimulated dick multiplies. On the nightstand was the marker that Scanlan used, capped and sitting neatly by his nightlight. Grabbing it off the table, he managed what he could with you turning him into putty from the waist down, grabbing one of your hands that you were using to support your weight scribbling “obedient” into it the best he could.
Nothing different happened at first– you continued to milk him for all that he was worth, and Percy couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling to the back of his head as he felt the familiar coil in the abdomen forming, ready to snap. “Hah- hah, hmpfh, s-stop, love, h-hang on–” he begs of you, and for the first time in the night, you oblige, hands and mouth lifting off his cock with the nasty squelch. 
He looks at you, panting, undignified drool at the edge of your lips, and he slips a finger over it and wipes it away. Catching his breath, he dedicates a moment to taking you in; needy, glazed-over cum-hungry eyes as his cock rests on your cheek, tousled hair, plump, shiny lips coated in a thin sheen of spit and semen, the white of your teeth poking out from under. You looked gorgeous for him like that, and he let you know by pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“You want my cum that badly, is that right?” he says, tentative at first. But you nod, rather vigorously, at that. It flips some sort of switch inside of him, and you feel him pull you by the hair, your own whimper leaving your throat as he exposes your throat to him. 
“A little cumslut wants her holes filled. What a sight,” he taunts, a wicked smirk brewing at the corners of his lips. The way he looks at you runs a chill down your spine– it was the way he looked at something he wanted, no, needed, to be under his control. 
And you were more than ready to give that.
“Be a good girl, then. Get on with it. On your hands and knees, on the floor,” he commands you, nodding towards the wood floor you have next to the bed. You glance down and back at him, and he’s watching you expectantly. Heat rising to your own cheeks, you shuffle down, assuming position on all fours as he requested.
You hear him shifting off the bed, stalking behind you– you feel his hands wrap around your waist, and then– a searing burn on your knees as you’re re-oriented, looking up to see the closet mirror and yourself staring back at you, cumslut written over your forehead. And dauntingly, above and behind you, stood Percy. 
You’re naked, because you woke up earlier and tried to satisfy your urges by touching yourself, which, went nowhere, clearly, otherwise you wouldn’t be in this cum-drunk state– but he is clothed; well, partially clothed, his sleeping robe untied and hanging off his shoulders. He knees behind you, secures your ankles to the ground with the weight of his calves and body, and sinks his fingers into your sides. 
“Spread your pussy for me.”
Your eyes go wide, thundering in your chest. He notices your hesitation, and grabs a fistful of hair and pulls you towards him.
“I said, spread your pussy for me. Do I need to repeat myself?”
Some sort of noise comes out of you that sounds vaguely like a whimper and a “yes, sir,” as you take your hands and grab your ass to satisfy his request. You feel a bubbling of dopamine in your chest when you obey him, and it feels good, addictive, almost.
When you feel the weight of his cock pressed against your entrance, your body instinctively gravitates towards him, craving to be filled. But you feel his weight pull away, teasing it along your slit as he leans over to your ear. 
“Be patient, love. Just enjoy it, I’ll do the work, my little cumslut. You’re such a needy little breeding whore, aren’t you?”
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© copyright @taste-of-the-divine 2023 ♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘟 𝘔𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘈 | 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌
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withahappyrefrain · 1 year
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Jake smugly adjusting his girl’s glasses, setting them just right where they’ve gone askew, just before he goes down on her. “So you can watch me wreck you properly, sweetheart.” 🌻🍦
Y'all can thank V for getting me to write Hangman smut. 18+ this GOT me good 
It's absolutely sinful, how you can feel his signature smirk against your core, how his stare burns into you.
The thickness of his fingers create a stretch that leaves your legs shaking, your body on the precise of pleasure.
His sea green eyes never leave your face as his tongue draws circles on your clit, watching your every reaction. Jake’s hands have your hips pinned down to the bed, your body at his tongue’s mercy. 
It's cruel when he retreats, removing his lips and fingers, leaving you empty and aching. One hand grips the bedsheets while the other adjusts your glasses as you bring your head up, making eye contact with him.
"Said I wanted ya to watch me sweetheart," Jake grins, "You gonna be a good girl and listen?"
A snarky remark dies on your tongue as his fingers trace up and down your slit, just enough to feel his presence. Just enough to leave you a wanting, withering mess on your bed.
"What was that?" He asks with a smirk. It wasn't that he was unsure of what you said. In fact, he was about ninety percent certain.
But he had missed your voice and your beautiful pleas.
You could be catty right back to him. Jake loved that about you. But it had also been six weeks since you last saw your husband. You could be bratty later, after your bodies became familiar with one another again, after your body remembered how to handle all of him again.
"I-I'll be good. I'll be your good girl."
The words were music to Jake's ears. He was great at keeping up the confident façade, but that didn't stop the worries that plagued his mind late at night while he was on a carrier. The possibility that you could find someone whose work trips didn't last months, who could call you more than a few times a week while away, who could actually be physically there for you. The worst part was if that happened, he couldn't blame you, couldn't be upset with you.
That's what made his stomach lurch; it would be reasonable, even understandable if you left him for someone like that.
But you didn't. You were always there when he came back, ready to greet him with open arms and gentle kisses. Ready to assure him that you were all his and no one else's.
Ready to remind Jake that only he got to see you like this, laid out and wearing nothing but those glasses he was absolutely obsessed with. 
"Enjoy the show, sweets," was all he said before diving back in between your legs.
It wasn’t his words that made your eyes roll to the back of your head (though that wasn’t uncommon), but rather his mouth all over you, pressing searing kisses and nips along your most sensitive flesh.
Remembering his orders, you propped yourself up with your elbows, taking in the sight of Jake devouring you.
One of your hands found purchase in his blonde hair, gripping the short strands. A moan escaped Jake’s lips at the sensation of your fingernails grazing against his scalp. Your legs couldn’t help but tremble at the vibrations, your teeth digging into your bottom lip in a desperate attempt to follow your husband’s orders. 
A broken moan fell from your lips as you felt the cool metal of his class ring as another finger thrusts in, creating a pleasure ache that began pooling in the lower pit of your stomach. It was all too much; the intensity of his stare, the lewd sounds of your wetness on his fingers. 
No sooner did the back of your head reached your pillow that you felt a harsh sting upon your right thigh. Your head shot up, a whine escaping from your mouth as you felt his lips leave your clit. 
“What did I say baby?” He chuckled at the way your body shuddered at his breath against your core. 
“Fuck you,” you gritted between your teeth, your words only amusing Jake even more. 
“Later,” Jake grinned, “But for now, I want you to see how I make you fall apart on my tongue.”
You tugged on his hair, guiding his mouth back to where you needed it the most, your eyes never leaving his. 
He wrapped his free arm underneath your hips, lifting them off the mattress. The new angle allowed his fingers to thrust in deeper, causing your voice to reduce to nothing more than strangled whimpers of his name and pleas.
"C'mon baby, missed ya s'much."
His encouragement was your undoing, causing your legs to shake as you fell apart against his mouth as white hot pleasure ran through your body.
Your whines did nothing but motivate Jake to keep going, prolonging your high. The grip on his hair tightened. Whether that was your way of trying to tell him to stop or continue, who knows.
"J-Jake, s'sensitive," your voice was broken, his tongue overwhelming you as it continued to trace circles on your clit.
Jake said something against your soaked cunt, his voice muffled. Somehow, you found the strength to look up, your eyes meeting his.
He was shaking his head, his fingers continuing to thrust against that spot that made your back arch.
It shouldn't be a surprise. Your husband was a man of his word and he did say he would wreck you.
At least you warned told your neighbors that Jake was coming back today.
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sir-yeehaw-paws · 4 months
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Can you talk a little more about masculinity and femininity in ocelot? Sounds interesting
Hello Anon!
Sure, I can do that. I guess a good way to explain myself first (and hopefully a little better than I did in the takarazuka ask) would be how I personally perceive masculinity and femininity.
The definitions of the concepts, according to Websters dictionary, are defined as such:
Masculinity: The quality or nature of the male sex. Femininity: The quality or nature of the female sex.
As another quick note, I'll add that this isn't going to delve too hard into whether these qualities are 'good' or 'bad' in regards to Ocelot. Some of them are good qualities, but Ocelot often puts them to use in a sinister fashion, being. Well.
Ocelot. In this case 'masculine' qualities would be, say, 'aggressive, physically strong, abrasive, robust' where as 'feminine' qualities would be, 'soft, nurturing, gentle, reserved'.
Obviously, my immediate issue is that these definitions are rooted in biological sex characteristics, with the stickier territory of sex and gender correlating because biology dictates certain personality traits. I'm not going to over-complicate it by going into a deeper 'nature vs nurture' or sex VS gender argument. And, for the sake of ease I'll start by describing what one might consider how these qualities are implied/shown in Ocelot in particular.
Ocelot's personality (or what he tells people his personality is) has characteristics of the following:
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Men are often considered to have more 'instinct rooted' natures. They're more often considered less feeling (something we know is very untrue but they're given less space to discuss their feelings properly). They are described as strong, daring. A lot of characteristics that get defined in the ways to which they are physically robust and skilled.
Or, in ways they can be useful based on those traits.
Women, by contrast, get considered more 'delicate' and nature based. What they can provide and offer people is given a critical eye (such as how many are described as nurturing, devoted) how they can provide, and their mental capabilities. Since the flip of the coin is that they are also considered more emotionally rooted, thus, they're described as 'manipulative and scheming' when written in a negative light.
(Also, a long time back, and never on Tumblr, I had the thought that Kaz's own story is written very 'female coded' to me. Being a scorned, jaded lover more known for his hysterical, temperamental personality and emotion being his driving force, robbed of his agency with torture and the like, and how revenge stories can often be common in female lead roles BUT that is a whole different thing so uh anyway carrying on.)
Ocelot's main, grounding root is that he is 100% endlessly devoted to Big Boss. It does not matter who suffers because of it, it does not matter how many people die, what matters is that the love of Ocelot's life is given his just due. And Ocelot remains by his side (physically and otherwise, even when BB himself is out of the picture) until his own death.
He's flamboyant. Full of a 'quirky' style of dress, makes a statement whenever he walks into a room. Does loud, bold hand gestures. Makes all kinds of crack statements, and generally draws the audiences attention in these ways. While he's more 'subdued' in MGSV, he still dresses a little 'strange' wears spurs around base, and keeps medium-length, free-flowing hair with long eyelashes and a more even-toned, level head.
Ocelot being a mediator is an extremely funny spot for him to be in, but like any of his performances, he nails it. Mum friend Ocelot, (if the mum friend is hypnotized to hell and of course, secretly antagonistic but again, Ocelot).
On the other hand, he's extremely obsessed with the 'ultra masculine' things; like guns, the American West, hand to hand combat (his CQC is some of the best in the series, I've seen it argued), men-or well, one man in particular. In any case, that's actually a different topic in it's own way, and a different essay.
I'd also note, the guns and such aside, he has a lot of his mother's personality traits, (from what we know of her anyway). The Boss was manipulative, cunning. Physically strong, robust. Driven by emotions, but physically domineering in a way that people knew damned well to take seriously.
Who else got Volgin to tuck tail?
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Yet-despite this, her story is one of sacrifice. Her having Ocelot in the first place as well quietly key to her character, written on her chest in a deep scar that reminds the audience, this is a woman. Using the conventional aspects society deems relevant to women, and the ones we've all heard before.
Ocelot's story, ends on the note of reminding the world (the players) that he died for a man. That he loved and adored. His story gets slightly elevated from reminding you that 'this is a man' and more into the territory of 'this is a person with a story' which I find interesting, and a bit sad, on the Boss' part. Because while there's a distinctly 'feminine element' to that, he's not given the hammer home of 'this is a man's story!"
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Because men get lots of stories. Men get all kinds of stories. That are not completely rooted in their masculinity (or their femininity, for that matter. Unless the story chooses to be about that). And I feel as if I've gone a touch off topic this way, but I know what I'm trying to say.
Ocelot, (and his mother, and so many) MGS characters are a good mix of masculine and feminine. One could make a post like this for all of the characters, but there is something to be said on the 'this is WOMAN' point getting hammered home a bit harder when it is the female characters.
But, that is another thing entirely. Once again. I feel like I'll never 100% stay fully on topic in an ask eh?
As an aside, is meowing masculine or feminine? We shall never know.
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