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slashingdisneypasta · 9 months

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Hades x AFAB!Reader || Drabble

HELLL YES I'M USING THIS GIF.

Plot: So apparently your hot new God lover is not comfortable with the idea of using his cock on you (Apparently his cum is similar to something called... 🔥hot glue??🔥 Which does NOT sound good for your insides- ), so he improvises.

Warnings: Smut!! And, I hate this word but its the word, so- Dildo use. *sigh* 🤦‍♀️ (This word for me is what moist is for Lily Aldrin in HIMYM) Also monsterfucker themes, small gagging mention, Hades drawing out your orgasm for his own sake. Starts out gentle, gets rough.

Tagging: @disney-android-foundation , @marinerainbow , and @ryantryan6969 . I forgot to tag again! I'm so sorry! But here we go, half an hour later XD I hope you're in a Hades mood!

"Yeah," Hades' smirk is scary, sexy and sharp, looking at the... thing, he's created. "that should do it."

Your eyes are wide, and your cheeks and neck and chest are aflame from the kisses and being propped on the table with your legs parted, feet set on either arm of Hades' throne. Right where he wants you to be, caging him in. "That-... I, uh... Hades... that should do it, for- for... what?"

Its an odd thing, for sure, in his hand. Its cylindrical, thick and long with a soft, rounded tip that's slightly puffier than the rest of it. And at the other end of it theirs a wider, flatter part; A base. And the thick cylinder part is slightly... curved, too. You're not quite sure what you're looking at, though theirs definitely a thought nagging in your minds-eye, so you're just sitting there hot, breathless, exposed and baffled until Hades' takes notice.

When Hades notices your confused eyes, still clouded with the lust he built you up to already but also just... confused, his smirk becomes more devious. No longer can you see his teeth, just lips spread long, high cheekbones, narrowed eyes- and a glint.

"Oh trust me you're gonna love this handy little thing when we're done tonight- I might even let ya keep it, if I'm feeling charitable. A gift; from me to you, babe. Compliments of the house~"

"Its... well- it looks weird."

"This, doll, is an exact replica- of that thing I toldya we're not uh... using, today."

Immediately your face gets hotter, like its caught on fire. THATS what was nagging at you!! That- This thing- its a- its his-

You just called a God's manhood weird-looking. Oh n- Suddenly Hades changes his grip on it, holding the base and moving- disappearing from the throne before your eyes and reappearing again, standing tall before your far littler, mortal form. When the thing kisses your bare and already soaked hole, all thoughts vacate your mind and your hands fly to his toga; gripping the fabric in your fists.

"Trust me, eh? You're gonna love it when I'm done. Would I steer you wrong, babe?"

Dragging your eyes from the thing, up to Hades' eyes, eyes you already feel like you're falling in love with despite the short time you've been spending time together, you give it a think. Would he?

Or- more importantly, do you care? Right now you're absolutely dripping, curling your toes in anticipation of the thing stretching you out (feeling needy just at the feel of it ghosting against your slick skin), clenching Hades' toga in your fists like it'll lesson your achiness at all, and you feel so high on lust you'd do just about anything to be filled. His kisses were like a terrible drug, his tongue hot, thick and skilled teasing yours for what felt like forever, torturing you forever, until he finally attempted to reach his hand up your thigh. You're practically shaking with want. You've never felt it this bad, before. No one's ever turned you into this much an oversensitive mess before just with kissing.

To be fair though you've never been with a God, before.

After a moment you give a nod, desperate to have something fill you- rub against your clit- drag you to the edge by force. Fuck you.

"That's my favourite new plaything~ Okay, now listen,.. " You watch Hades lean down closer to you with glazed-over eyes, until he passes your lips by and you let out a sigh and drop your forehead on his shoulder, as he instead whispers hotly in your ear; "Here's the deal. You come, when I say so. I don't wanna hear any 'Hades I couldn't help it', cuz see I'm not gettin' anything outta this, am I babe?- what am I getting outta this? Nada. We're not even using my actual equipment, here. For your safety. Yah... So you're gonna have to put on a show for me, yeah? So c'mon, gimmie somethin to look back on. Be my personal pornstar."

You're already slipping away into foggy-brain mode, ready to disappear into the feeling of getting fucked, losing yourself in his voice. "Mhmm, o-kay." The smell of smoke is starting to overwhelm you, too, taking over your senses. It fills up your nose when you're this close to him, it warms your body, it leaves a barbecue-like taste on your tongue.

"Gonna haveta hear ya say it, babe. Remind me what's our deal?" The fake-cock presses against your folds, almost-almost breaching the entrance and stretching you and you give a hopeless whine.

"I'll... mm... you're missing out, so- so I'll... "

"Hmmmmm?" Hades decides to be an ass and strokes the thing up an down your folds, making it even harder for you to think. He also presses a simmering kiss to the top of your head to hide his chuckles, the bastard.

"... I'll be a p- pornstar for you... "

"That's right." Theirs a soft kind of pride in his voice that makes yours your insides squeeze, just as he slips the objects head into your pussy; beginning to massage it at a gradual pace in and out, going in deeper and deeper until the whole thing disappears in and out of your little, drippy, stretched entrance. You're gritting your teeth and pressing your forehead hard into his shoulder before you know it, feeling the throws of hot, throbbing pleasure building in you already.

While you're moaning and taking the fake cock in, the curve stretching you open and grinding perfectly against your sensitive clit (just enough to feel good but not enough to help you over the edge), Hades glides the long sharp fingers on his free hand along your thigh down to your knee- then pushes it back gently so your legs are open wider. It somehow maximises the feeling in you and you cant help the way your walls twitch around the thick, slimy instrument. How your hips roll towards it. "Hades! Hades hades hades- please please- "

"Good work, doll!, keep begging and you might just get watcha want outta me~ Maybe." His pumps get ever-so-slightly faster, filling you up more insistently, causing the sloppy suctioning sound of your tight wet cunt to get embarrassingly loud in the big empty room- making him smirk. "Sweetheart trust me you look good there... gonna be hard to talk shop here later on, if ya catch my drift. Eh?~ "

The thought of Hades communing with other gods, or the fates, or just Pain and Panic with his hand under the table pumping his leaky throbbing cock because of you flickers through your brain and makes you squeeze the toy inside you. "Hades! Hades! I- I c- I need- Please please, right there right there! I need y- ahhh," You want to reach down and touch yourself desperately, help yourself selfishly to an explosive climax around this perfect hard toy, but you behave yourself. You bite your lip and fight the urge, wanting to please him. "Faster please!! F- Faster, harder, in m- Ahh!"

Letting out a frustrated, orgasm-mad whine as the toy just continues to drive continuously into you at a moderate pace, only stimulating you enough to make you crazy with want, you decide to play with him some. Stretching slowly, you lean up to graze your lips against the heated skin of his neck. Then your tongue (The tip, then the full flatness, and then you give gentle suck~ Reminding him what you could be doing to him down there. Torturing him as bad as he's tortured you), and as your hands glide down his warm clothed chest, Hades grunts; frustrated himself as your mischievous fingers near his actual cock. "Babe, you know you're playing with fire he- "

Even through his toga, you can feel his length burning up and painfully hard. Gently stroking it, your relax down from his neck as you just weakly take the pounding in your core; delicately playing with his cock meanwhile. Sliding your hand up and down the hidden body part, which may be even thicker then the toy actually, making him twitch.

You almost lose yourself in this, the slow, torturous pleasure and the feeling of Hades' cock under your fingers. After a few moments of this, you notice the fake one shoving into you rougher, making the pressure inside you start to build up slowly so you look up at him; Eyes widening at the look on his face immediately.

With a pent-up frustrated frown at you, Hades starts to ram the damn thing into your hot, puffy walls; ripping you apart and abusing your little clit without a seconds notice. The fire on top of his head flashes orange and you know you did it. "Fine Y/N- you wanna act like a whore, okay. Trust me, I can treat you like a bitch if you want to be."

Your orgasm builds faster then before, the thick curved thing pounding into your pussy again and again at a filthy inhuman speed, fucking you hard and so rough your mouth hangs open obscenely as you press your forehead once again into Hades shoulder- hard. The heel of his hand brushes your skin every time he thrusts the toy inside your meaty walls and its a little detail that reminds you its him. Its not a soulless fucking machine. Its him. You stretch your thighs open wider to increase the feeling, unable to do much other then that but take the fucking- its just how you wanted, its better, its yanking your climax out of you desperately and selfishly.

When you're so so close, Hades makes you stretch your head backwards on your neck and kisses you again; making you gag on his long inhuman tongue for working him up like you did. You let out a strangled moan, shocked that it feels good having your ability to breath stolen from you in such a vulgar way, and stretch upwards towards him, trailing your tongue languidly against his in responce.

When he finally forces an orgasm out of you you're left twitching and shaking against Hades' chest.

"Thereee you go, that was my personal pornstar. Could use some work learning not to ever, mess with me- but for a first go I think that was pretty great. Full marks." Hades chuckles, nudging your chin upwards again - gentle this time, - to look at him. Theirs that devious smirk and those mischievous yellow eyes, looking at you like you're a tasty treat. "Now how about a smile? Maybe a 'thanks. lord of the dead, I feel fucking amazing'?"

With a tired sigh and a spent grin that turns slightly cheeky, you nod okay. "Thank you, oh lord. You did pretty good, too."

Hades' face looks thoroughly unamused at your smartass responce but in the moment with your pussy still throbbing you think its the cutest expression, ever. Then he releases your face and shrugs, an indifferent look on his face now. "Eh, well, I guess you don't want the bath I was gonna draw for ya-- fit for a god, with uh, you know, ambrosia, and stuff. Oh well, see ya next time toots- "

Oh that sounds good, damn. You look after him with sad wide eyes and frown, softly. "... a bath?" Your sweet, tired, fucked-out voice draws him right back in and his voice is gentle on his next words.

"Its in progress, sweetheart."

With that and a happy hum from you, Hades seals his lips to yours for another long, languid kiss while the bath is drawn for you.

#Disney Hades x Reader Drabble #Hades x Reader Drabble #Disney Hades #Hades #Disney Hades x Reader #Hades x Reader #Smut #Drabble #Disney Villains #Disney Villains x Reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

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spring snow, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: In memory of you, the one I should have loved when it counted. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. To the backdrop of the black sky and white flakes falling down, you and Jeon Jungkook learn that you are far more connected than you could ever believe. I miss you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; slow burn - struggles with letting go of the past, ponderings of adulthood, and feels; smut (fem reader, heavy making out, f and m-receiving oral, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - JK walks reader home every day after work; switches between Jungkook’s POV and yours

this is a very different format from my usual. i let my hands do whatever they wanted to do. about people and relationships... and porn with feelings XD

I miss you.

It’s crazy that I think that now. Back then, I couldn’t wait to get out.

I miss you.

Sometimes I stay awake on purpose. I don’t want to fall asleep and see you. If I see you in my dreams, I miss you more. I remember what each season with you was like. Warm nights lit up by fireworks and bites of crushed-up watermelon from strong but unstable hands. Cold afternoons with warm breath against my palms, watching the leaves tumble down. Endless nights surrounded by white flakes tumbling from the sky.

I fill my days with the way it was, and I fill my nights with broken dreams.

I wish I could say I wrote that but, actually, I read that from my hyung’s notebook. He’s good with words. I’m not. Or maybe it’s from a song. He likes writing down lyrics that stick with him. Anyway, you you would have liked him. He might have inspired you back then. You always liked intelligence since you felt like you lacked it.

Now I know that was precious too, those moments of innocence.

I miss you.

I should have held onto you more closely back then.

I should have but I didn’t know.

I’m sorry I didn’t. That’s what I wanted to say.

I miss you.

I see you clearly when I close my eyes. It’s spring. The trees have flowered and the petals are being blown by the wind. Your hair flies up from the breeze. That expression you make, mild surprise and wonder as the pink petals surround you in a halo and then disappear into the sky and the horizon.

I like your eyes.

They’re so pretty.

It’s not realistic, but I like to pretend it is.

But you’re right. Spring is usually a lot of rain. Blue moods and grey days. You were always right about those things. I bet you’re still right about them now. You have to be, huh? Always realistic. Did you ever think you should pretend a little more? Just a little bit. Maybe, if you did… back then.

I miss you.

I try to forget about you.

I try to lose myself so I can forget about you. I don’t think it’s working though.

Fuck, I miss you.

I thought about you today.

Do you remember that there was a time you thought kissing was so important? You acted like it was super gross, but the truth was that you couldn’t imagine kissing just anybody. It had to be someone really important.

That’s weird, you know.

That’s so weird. It’s only a kiss.

Just a kiss.

Would you tell me not to kiss her?

Would you tell me she’s not important enough? That I’m wasting something really important? I thought about it. I thought about you, so I didn’t do it. I almost got close. But I couldn’t do it. I thought about your face looking back at me. And I couldn’t do it.

I still want to, though.

The night was really cold. I wanted to hold her hand, at least. But she just smiled at me and tucked her hands in her pockets. She told me to hurry home so I didn’t get sick.

Maybe I should have kissed her.

Fuck.

I’m not holding on. I’m not. Look. You’re only in my head. That’s it. I have a lot of things in this head of mine, not just you. You’re not the only one here. I remember a lot of things from back then, not just you. There’s lots of people in here. Not just you.

Blurry faces, sure.

But still there.

Not just you.

I don’t want to think about you. I hate it. You remind me of bad things. Of cold days. Of blue and grey, of dark nights and missed mornings. Of empty feelings and grasping at nothing. I want to forget. I want to forget those obsidian nights with pearl-white flakes falling from the sky, forget those frozen palms and dead leaves under the feet of passerby, forget those humid, sticky summer nights most of all, those nights were I looked up and saw no stars.

I want to forget the rain and the flower petals that I made up, yeah, those ones that surround your curious face and pretty eyes.

Please.

I want to forget.

Let me forget.

I think everyone feels this. I’ve thought about it. This feeling can’t be exclusive to me, right? For instance, people talk about how they miss their high school friends. They wonder what they’re up to. If they would still be friends now. Would they still like the same things? Or would they move on to different interests? Adults are like that. They talk about back then, school days, carefree vacations, and that hot girl they had a crush on, wondering if they’re still hot now.

I don’t really think I’m an adult, but I do miss you and I do think about back then.

School days.

I was so ready to become an adult, but now that I’m here, and I’m pretty sure adult is a fake word. I don’t think you would have believed me if I told you back then. You just wanted to be an adult and do all the things adults can do. Stay up as long as you want. Not have homework anymore. Adults are free to do whatever they want, right?

Who knows.

I know you wanted to find that real kiss more than anything.

I saw her again.

I think I’m just going to kiss her the next time I get the chance. I don’t really care if she’s important enough or not.

Maybe that’s what adult means.

This is a mistake.

I know you would tell me it is. I don’t care though. I don’t care anymore what you think.

I don’t.

I’m not going to let myself be dragged down by the ghost of you for no reason. What’s the point of the past? To learn from past mistakes, of course. There’s no point in dwelling on those dark nights lying awake with music pumping through earbuds to drown out all the sounds. Look at you. You’re stuck back then and you can’t escape.

Because you’re in my memory and you’re not here.

Don’t drag me down with you.

I’m sorry.

But I can’t think about you anymore, you know?

I really can’t.

I can keep trying to romanticize the past but it’s killing me slowly and I can’t romanticize you any longer because it’s all I can think about and I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating from the thoughts of you and your smile that I can’t seem to remember. I hate that I can’t remember. I should have made you smile. Is it my fault that I can’t remember or my fault that I could never make you smile and that’s why I can’t remember?

Fuck.

I miss you.

I am sorry.

It means nothing now but I don’t know what else to say.

And I know I’m making a mistake. This that I’m chasing now, this is a distraction. You know all about those. I know you do, because you had a lot of hobbies and they were all distractions. I remember those at least. You had your nose in books. You drew a lot. You collected Pokémon cards and hid them in tins in the back of your closet. Yeah. I remember that too.

I know it’s mean of me, but he’s a distraction.

He’s a distraction from you and those memories.

I’m going to kiss him.

And I’m going to forget about you.

I feel guilty.

I thought about you when my lips touched hers.

It was right before she was about to go up to her apartment building. Weirdly cold tonight once again. I could see my breath in the air, right between us. She said it would be a god night for ramyeon. I thought that was funny. I said that she should come over and eat ramyeon.

She just smiled at me and tucked her hands in her pockets.

I thought, ah, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn’t that close the other night. Maybe even though I wanted to kiss her, she didn’t want to kiss me because I wasn’t important enough. Maybe she was sure even though I wasn’t. Is that what being an adult means? I wondered.

But then she stepped a little closer.

I could see my breath in the air, white and foggy, right between us.

She said to me, “I’m going to kiss you.”

I thought about you and then her lips pressed to mine.

They were soft.

She sighed a little and I could taste her breath, sweet and warm.

I feel guilty, because I wasn’t sure, but it still felt nice. I still wanted it. Maybe it was a mistake.

Maybe, but it was a beautiful one.

It’s okay to make mistakes though, isn’t it? I think you would say so. You made a lot of them. Well, that was what being young was about. You used to beat yourself up over them. I wish I could tell you not to do that, but you were really stubborn and you probably wouldn’t listen. You used to think, “When I’m an adult, I won’t make mistakes.”

Maybe that means I’m not an adult yet, because this is probably a mistake.

But.

I want to kiss her again.

I did it.

I kissed him.

He liked it. I’m pretty sure. When I backed up, he had a dropped jaw and big wide eyes. It was kind of funny. Almost like a kid. But that’s okay. It’s no fun being an adult. You understood that, even back then. Even in blue moods and grey days, you didn’t think that being an adult would make it better.

So, when he looked at me with those big round eyes and parted lips, I thought, maybe, maybe you wouldn’t say it’s a mistake.

Maybe.

I thought about taking him up on his offer. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what that not-so-subtle “come over and eat ramyeon” meant. Heh. I thought about it.

But then I thought about you, even though I didn’t mean to.

Maybe you wouldn’t say it’s a mistake, but.

You would shake your head at me, for sure. You would say, don’t.

So, I just kissed him and left him there.

And now I’m here, wondering if I should have just ignored the thought of you. I’m mad at you. I hate you sometimes. But I miss you. I wish I could erase you, because then it wouldn’t hurt as much.

And anyway.

You can’t erase your past.

I wonder if he was happy that I kissed him. Maybe. I feel like he might like that kind of thing. He always reminds me it’s not safe to walk alone. I always tell him it’s a short walk, but he reminds me that he lives only a few blocks away and it’s not a big deal. I let him walk me home, because sometimes I can forget about you when I’m focused on someone else. We don’t always talk, but he’s there. I think he gets off work a little earlier than me, but he always waits.

He waits for me, like the future.

He probably only wants to get laid.

Well, that’s okay too. If he wants me to be his distraction, then maybe he can be mine, even if only for a short while. Maybe he can help me forget about you and I don’t have to miss you anymore.

He had a nice kiss. Soft, with a little gasp, like he was trying to breathe me in.

I want to kiss him again and forget about you.

Do you remember the first time someone held your hand?

She held my hand.

It was very quick. I was fixing the earbud in my ear and then I felt her hand close around my wrist, slipping down because she was walking around me, tugging me into the convenience store. She was saying something about how me mentioning ramyeon the other night reminded her she was almost out, but I didn’t catch all of it.

I was too busy realizing how cold my hand was and how warm hers was.

It’s still cold these days, especially when the sun sets. The day is okay, but I still have to bring my coat to work because I wait for her to get out so I can walk her home.

Anyway, she let go once I started following.

It feels weird telling you this. Maybe you don’t want to hear it. But I was reminded of you.

The radio station was playing an old song. You know, the one that was super popular in middle school and they had to ban it during exams. Haha, yeah, that one. I recognized it right away. She recognized it too and started singing along. Then she noticed that I noticed and I think she got embarrassed.

But.

You know how in the movies, there’s that moment?

I think today was like that.

Because I started singing too and she started backing up really fast and dashing around the aisles and I was following her around and I started dancing as she ran and she was laughing and, I don’t know, it reminded me of you and back then. It was dumb and didn’t really make sense, but that’s how it was back then, wasn’t it? Moments of pure joy, unblemished. We got yelled at and we were told to get out. She didn’t even get to buy any ramyeon. Still, we rushed out and she was laughing and I was laughing too.

It reminded me of you and back then.

But this was different.

She smiled up at me and I kissed her, just like that. I wouldn’t have done that, back then. But I did it without thinking and it felt like the thing to do, because she kissed me the other night and I…

I wanted her to know that I wanted to kiss her too.

It was really nice.

Better than any kiss you had, I know.

If I close my eyes right now, I can still see the way her eyes opened slowly. The way golden hour lit up her face, the way the cold turned her cheeks pink, the way her lips parted.

The way she looked at me.

It reminds me of back then, of you and your innocence.

I miss you.

It’s too fucking cold. Isn’t spring supposed to be coming soon? Why is it so fucking cold?

Hah.

I think I’ve done it now.

I didn’t really mean to. It just kind of happened. Him and I, we were in front of the apartment building and I think he meant to lean forward and give me a good night kiss and, I don’t know why, I just… I just grabbed him by the shirt. Yanked him close.

You used to do things like that too.

I don’t want to be like you, but.

I looked up at him and he seemed surprised, but his arms wrapped around me. I could see his breath when we were that close. He was wearing a big fluffy white coat. It made him look like a cloud. Or a bunny.

I asked him if he would come up with me.

I don’t know why I thought he would say no. He was already holding me. I guess you always prepared me for failure and rejection. That was your specialty, always finding for rock bottom.

That moment seemed like forever, but it was a warm forever of soft breath and that fluffy coat.

He said that he would accompany me upstairs.

I don’t know why I thought he would disappear if I didn’t hold his hand.

It might have been a mistake, but. It didn’t really feel like one. Maybe that’s how beautiful mistakes are. I didn’t even turn on the light. We were in the dark when the front door closed. I pushed him against the wall and slipped my hands under that fluffy coat to that orange shirt. I was surprised. He has a manly body under that cute face.

In the dark, I leaned forward to kiss him but my lips were against his neck and I kissed his throat instead.

He moaned.

I thought about you, but this was different.

I could smell him, I could feel him, and I thought about you, and I thought I would be upset or maybe even afraid, but he was holding me and my lips were pressed against his skin, and I forgot to be upset or afraid.

He smelled nice.

Tasted nice too.

I said I can’t think about you, but I might have been wrong. Because I thought about you and I kept going, kept kissing him and holding him in the dark. Felt his lip ring against my cheek and his gasp against my lips when my fingers touched his waist and gripped his shirt tight. I asked him if he felt good, if it felt nice to be this close, told him I wanted to see if he still felt that way when we were alone and no one was looking.

He said he still felt the same even though no one was looking.

It’s so cold outside after the sun goes down, but, in that moment in the dark, it was warm in his fluffy coat and his arms around me. It didn’t even bother me that it didn’t go further than that. I told him he should go home before it got too cold. Kissed him before I let him go, reminded him that he had to walk me home tomorrow too.

He seemed happy.

I like his smile. There’s a small mole under his lips. It gives him an innocent look.

I’m sorry I said I can’t think about you.

I miss you.

Wow.

The way she tasted.

I think I’ll remember that taste forever.

I fucked up.

How did I fuck up so bad?

Ugh, I’m so stupid.

Let’s call a spade a spade. I fucked him in attempt to forget about you. I fucked him because I miss you, because I hate you, because I am nothing without you and he is collateral in this fucked-up mess, which makes me a shit person.

I fucked him and it felt good.

Better than good. Was fantastic. Yeah, you heard me. And I don’t care either, I don’t care that I liked it, I don’t care that he took me out to dinner and I paid for his drinks knowing full well what I was doing, knowing that I went to work in a sexy dress on purpose, knowing that he would say yes at my front door the second I asked him if he wanted to come in. I see the way he looks at me.

I can pretend I didn’t but you know me. I’m no liar.

I knew what I was doing.

I know what I’m doing and it’s awful.

Fuck.

His hands on my face. That little smile. He way he pauses a little bit before kissing me. I can taste it, his excitement when I reciprocate. I come on strong and he likes it, either because he likes that kind of attention or because he likes being wanted. Doesn’t matter. I’m doing this to forget about your effect on me. I touch his face and trail my fingers down his chest to forget how you have a chokehold on my mind. I unbutton his floaty black and white dress shirt to forget how you know everything about me and see right through me. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, make him moan, trace his muscles with my fingertips and feel his heartbeat at the tip of my touch to forget all about how you keep me dead when I’m supposed to be alive.

He tastes good.

Like innocence and a desire to be loved.

I hate how I’m like this, but I can’t stop. I was only going to touch him a little, maybe just frustrate him and back off. Take it slow. Promises for next time and all that shit. Ugh.

God, I’m so full of it.

His hands drifted down to the hem of my dress and what did I do? Shove my right leg between his and hook my left around his hips and grind on his jean-covered thigh. Right. That’s taking it slow. Yup. Of course, he took it as a sign to yank up my dress. Wasn’t like my hands pushing his dress shirt off his shoulders giving him any other choice. I shouldn’t have taken it so far. He would have stopped if I said so. He would have listened if I put up the red light.

Should have put up the damn red light.

Instead, I took off his clothes and he took off mine and I found myself halfway crawling up my own apartment wall with my legs on his shoulders and his mouth on my pussy with those big brown eyes staring up at me.

Jeez.

What am I doing?

I even had the gall to send him back home after fucking him on my own bed. Couldn’t even think about waking up next to him in the morning. That’s well and truly fucked, isn’t it?

The way he looked at me.

Don’t look at me like that.

Don’t look at this black hole with stars in your eyes, because all I’ll do is suck them into this darkness and kill them, leaving nothing left of you, and that’s unfair for someone like you.

It is.

And yet you walked me home today, asking if I was busy this weekend.

And, like an idiot, I said I wasn’t.

I wanted to write this down because I wanted to remember.

She said something to me as we sat on her bed, right before the first time. She had turned her bedside lamp on. One of those silicone touch ones in the shape of a round cat. The color it was set on – red. I remember because when she sat in my lap and stared into my eyes, the red shadows between us were so… sensual. Alluring. Erotic. I don’t know. There’s probably a sexier way to say it.

But anyway, she whispered against my lips and looked into my eyes.

“The stars in the sky are already dead.”

I remember being confused.

“The stars in the sky. The light you see from the stars is already dead by the time you see them.”

I think I remember reading that in a book. Or maybe in class when I was in high school or something. I was never good at astronomy. I should have asked you to pay more attention for me. Then she said…

“But the stars are in your eyes.”

I remember looking into her eyes and seeing mine reflected in them.

When she said that and when I saw myself in her eyes, I realized I felt something that I’ve never felt before. Her warm breath drifted over my lips, a weird feeling prickling all over my skin, her fingers caressing my cheeks, and, I knew, this was a moment.

From her to me, a moment.

“The light I see in you is right here, right now, and it is alive.”

No one has ever said anything like that to me.

Never.

I wanted to remember it, so I wrote it down here.

I wish I said something just as beautiful back to her, but I couldn’t think of anything then. I could have asked her to explore the stars. I could have said that the stars weren’t there until I looked at her. I could have said she’s the whole galaxy and I’m only a small cluster of stars in her vast galaxy.

But I didn’t.

I hope she could tell how happy I was just looking into her beautiful eyes.

I need to tell him the truth.

He’s sleeping in my bed and I need to tell him the truth but instead I’m writing to you because I’m too fucked up to say anything when I need to say something, because I’m sad and lonely and dead inside knowing that I failed you and I wasn’t better and I couldn’t be strong enough to make sure you were okay, because I am the worst, the worst, the worst.

It’s supposed to be spring.

It’s still so cold.

There’s something about her.

I don’t think you would like her, mostly because she knows who she is and because you don’t. You’re insecure and you look up to others to secure you and tell you where to go and what to do. It’s because you were afraid to live life, lest you do it wrong or imperfectly.

But.

There is no such thing as wrong or imperfect when it comes to life, is there?

I can feel it.

The way she keeps me as close as she can, but I look up and there’s still a shrouded sky with snow falling even though it’s supposed to be spring. We’re close and yet the sky remains dark, the clouds stay gray, and I can see my breath. Life is supposed to be growing. Instead, there’s soft white flakes floating down and it’s cold.

And yet.

It’s beautiful.

She’s beautiful to me.

I wish I knew a pretty way to tell her that, like how she said my eyes were full of stars.

---

The moment in life where everything changed was when you read those words.

You wished you could say that you didn't read them. That you were polite, kind, and respected his privacy. That you were fast asleep beside him in this bed of yours, a place where you had nightmares or, worse, hopeful dreams that shattered every morning as you were forced to face reality. Dreams where you felt fully and completely alive, only to wake up and realize it was all a lie.

But, no.

You were awake.

Sometimes being asleep was the true torture.

You turned the page, going backwards in time.

I wanted to write this down because I wanted to remember.

The little book had fallen out of his jacket. A plain black notebook with a leather-texture hardcover and scribbles in it. Pocket-sized. There was an elastic strap that was meant to go around the book and hold it shut, but it hadn't been put back on properly, causing the pages to fall open and land on where the ribbon bookmark had been placed.

You read the entry.

He had nice handwriting. Clean. Neat. Thoughtful. Your original guess was that this notebook was for his work. Notes into his creativity, perhaps? He did video editing for a living, he said. Maybe it was a planner to organize his days. Or ideas for projects he wanted to pursue on his own. A brainstorming space.

You turned the page.

Beside you, his body moved, restless. You wondered if he would wake up, but instead he threw an arm around your waist and continued sleeping, his breathing long and steady.

You read the entry.

Wow.

It was very short.

This little book was none of the things you thought it was. It was something else, something you could scarcely even believe at first, something that made your heart stop, and that wasn't because those words were about you.

It was because the entries were letters.

All of them.

All letters, addressed to the same person, the same individual, over and over again. Some long, some short. Some vague nonsense, some intimately revealing. All for one person.

Not you.

No.

You couldn't believe it.

It was so surreal that you read the addressee twice. Three times. Not because you thought it was strange or crazy.

No.

Because you understood.

To young Jeon Jungkook.

Mechanically, you reached over to the side of your bed, the pocket between the mattress and bedframe, and pulled out a small, slightly squashed, black leather soft-cover notebook. Thinner and longer than his, but similar enough.

You opened to the ribbon bookmark.

To young me, I miss you.

You understood these letters all too well.

He was just a big kid, that Jeon Jungkook. Tattooed because people told him not to. Pierced because people told him not to. Not in the spotlight because people told him he totally had the face for it. No, no, Jeon Jungkook didn’t like all these people telling him he should do this or that. He wanted to do only what he wanted to do. Stubborn and defiant, sticking his spoon into his ice cream covered in too many toppings, maybe more garnishes than chocolate ice cream, having the cold sweet even on the cold night, all because he wanted to.

“What is it that you want to do?” you had asked him.

He shoved he spoon into his mouth and shrugged.

But you could see it in those big brown eyes. The uncertainty, the fear, the maybe despite my desire to be myself I’m just like everyone else, the maybe I will never know, the and if I don’t, am I stuck like the rest of them? The questions that came, and perhaps that was youth, that was becoming an adult, that was the beautiful blunders that became the formation of life.

You sipped your hot chocolate, the lingering taste of peppermint trapped in the liquid even though Christmas was long over. You had asked for it and the employee had given you a weird look.

“Upset stomach,” you lied. A flimsy explanation to make the weird look go away.

“Can I have a sip of your hot chocolate?” Jungkook now asked.

You handed it to him and he drank a bit, his face fluttering with comfort.

“You’re gonna ruin your digestion going from cold to hot like that,” you commented.

“Yeah, my mom always tells me that, but I’m still eating, right?”

He grinned, all mischief, silver ring at the edge, and underneath pink lips and white teeth he was blessed with a dot of dark perfect imperfection.

You held your hand out.

Jungkook was about to give your to-go cup back, but then he darted forward, placing a light kiss on the opening. Then he handed it back to you, still smiling.

You raised your eyebrows and continued sipping at the hot liquid.

He continued eating his ice cream, scooting closer to you on the public bench. You didn’t move away. It was cold at night, even now. Supposed to be spring already, a time for rain and sun and blooming flowers, but it was cold and biting, reminding everyone winter hadn’t yet gone away.

“When do you think a spring day will come?” Jungkook murmured between enormous bites of ice cream.

“I don’t know, but I know the weather forecasters will probably be wrong,” you answered dryly.

She said to his lips, “I missed you.”

It was so soft and so quiet that he almost didn’t hear it, but he felt the words being formed, her lips brushing against his and then the fervent press of forget what I said to his lips, her hands framing his jaw and up into his hair, long delicate fingers twisting into the strands. The ghost of sweetness between their tongues, a shared taste, and those words flowed into the thoughts that became one with his own, as if he himself said them, I missed you, because he did.

He did.

Jeon Jungkook couldn’t explain it, but he wished he could.

He reached up himself and mirrored her touch, across the jaw and up to the temple, his fingers in her hair, strands curling in his hold and he wished this moment was as permanent as the tattoos inked to skin, maybe not her if that wasn’t what she wanted, but at least this feeling. This feeling. Something he knew he couldn’t get again. Maybe that was because this was him now and this was her now, lips to lips and the fire between them, but he wished, he wished to keep this feeling in his memory, wished to make it last forever.

He wished, he wished he could tell young Jungkook, cherish it, all those days back then, don’t go chasing for what becoming an adult means, because it means being lost and sad and lonely.

But he couldn’t.

She tilted her head, traced his lips with her tongue, and Jungkook shuddered.

He wished, he wished he could say, please stay with me, please stay a little longer with me, I am not perfect but I swear there is something here, in your taste and in my heart, and, if I am your mistake, please let me stay your mistake a little longer, but they were such ugly words, such horrible words, and he couldn’t say it, no, because… what if he was right?

What if he truly was her mistake?

She took his jacket off, pulled up his turtleneck, and he pushed down her furry coat, slowly undoing the laces at the collar of her dress, exposing skin to his searching fingertips.

What started as recklessness continued to be recklessness. Perhaps it was his fault, believing in nothing, or it was really there, the something, kisses again, his jacket falling to the floor, a thunk and Jungkook vaguely registered the little black book falling out of his jacket again, but he paid it no mind, remembering she had found it but left it on top of his folded clothes, making breakfast as he slowly woke up, smelling eggs and fragrant oil.

He had glanced at his journal, the elastic over the front cover, resting on top of his folded clothes.

Jungkook thought he would feel panic, fear, embarrassment.

But then he realized he didn’t care.

He never had the perfect words, but the ones written in there were his honest ones. Ones of that moment, and if she read them, then she read his honest words and not some dressed-up version in some vain attempt to make himself better than he was.

He wondered if she did, but she simply greeted him like normal, chuckling at his messy hair and running her fingers through it, telling him to hurry and eat so he could get back to his place and change, otherwise his co-workers would think he’s dirty for wearing the same clothes over again.

So Jungkook let the notebook fall, knowing the elastic wasn’t all the way on, forgetting all about it to tangle himself in that touch, that skin, that scent. Exploring tongue following dancing fingers, and he could feel it sear across his skin, inexplicable but undeniable, like the feeling one got from looking up to a black sky and falling white snow, on the cusp of sad but it was just so beautiful, so beautiful, so he couldn’t bring himself to be sad.

She was a scriptwriter, she said.

Her specialty was dialogue.

But Jungkook found she spoke to him the loudest like this, in the form of trailing kisses and soft breath over his chest, kissing the mole on the right side of his ribcage, this silent dialogue so real and so raw that even even though he had no idea what they meant, he believed in them. Every spoken word had intent behind it, intentional or not, but this, this was pure on a different level, pure as her tongue drawing down the center of his abdomen, creating a wet line, half-lidded, sultry eyes peering up at him.

This was the present, without the weight of the past.

And the past weighed heavily on those that held onto it, I miss you, young him, at first oblivious everyone’s expectations, I miss you, young him, foolishly believing everyone had the best intentions for him, I miss you, young him, running and weighed down with expectations. Thinking that he was chained but that when he was adult he would have freedom, except he got older and he still felt chained, so did that mean he was still young or did that mean that he was now an adult and this was everyone’s fate?

Jungkook had these thoughts when he was alone, but not here.

Not here, not within the confines of hands fanning over his thighs, tongue to taut skin, in her eyes glittering in the low light. Like snow from a black sky, but he was comforted and then elated, radiating bliss mounting his senses, skillful tongue sliding down his length and his hands gripping the sheets, memorizing the lush quality of the fabric, memorizing the way his nerves seemed to shimmer and brim with so much pleasure that it was nearly unbearable. Every detail precious – the wet, the pressure, the depth, controlled tightness. Saliva dripping down his balls and then quickly lapped up, sending a spark up his spine, a strangely playful sensation he came to crave and it happened again, jarring and gratifying him, like hot chocolate between bites of ice cream, sweet on sweet.

Something out of nothing.

Black sky full of falling white flakes.

He should be afraid, he should be hesitating, he should be chained by the past, but he was free, free here in the moment of erotic high and in those eyes in the low light. Glittering amusement in those irises, something out of nothing, or something out of…

She crawled back up his body, her dress on the floor, and kissed him, salty, but to him it was sweet.

Something out of something?

Maybe.

How long will you punish yourself for something you didn’t do?

Sometimes you thought about writing down that question, but it was too honest and your pen would pause every time, poised to make the strokes, and you didn’t. It was too honest. You kept thinking, I’m not ready, but that was an excuse just like any other, as if you would ever be ready, as if you would ever know, all this time chasing for that one you should have loved when it counted, but you didn’t. You didn’t, and now you were sorry.

Sorry.

So pointless to be sorry, the maybe if I, the it could have been better if I, the if only I just, who cares, who cares, who cares. This kind of thinking was just as much a broken home as it was back then, these thoughts like closed shutters to keep out the light, forever in winter because you never dared to look out and find summer. A prison of the past you built to hold in the fragile young you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, tried to embellish the past and make it as pretty as it was tragic, all to try and erase the fact that you were holding onto nothing.

In this decrepit broken home of your thoughts, apologizing to the past. Writing letters to the one that always ran from, to the one you hated for making you into what you were now, to the one that never tried to appreciate what little good there was because it was always easier to believe everything was bad. Easier to think that, when you were an adult, you could make it all go away.

But it just wasn’t true.

I’m sorry, young me.

The sky was still black and the snow still fell and the spring day never came.

I don’t really think I’m an adult, but I do miss you and I do think about back then.

He was just a big kid, that Jeon Jungkook.

You closed your eyes and inhaled, the soft, clean scent mixed with sex, slipping into the sensation of being filled, easy after his fingers and the lingering buzz of his kiss. A heavy weight, and you should have felt crushed, suffocated, caged, but you were so used to the broken home of your thoughts that this felt like freedom, like a hopeful dream that couldn’t be broken by reality.

Because you opened your eyes and there was Jeon Jungkook.

His teeth were sunk into his lower lip, and he was struggling not to be overwhelmed. The mole underneath bobbing uneasily, silver lip ring quivering, and you clenched around his hard cock, making him flinch and frown at you, his eyes connecting with yours.

His eyes glittering in the low light. Stars. And the ones in the sky were dead, but these were lit by the fire within, lit by a past determined to feel the present even more, and your lips parted to take a breath.

There was none to be taken.

Jungkook breathed out your name.

If the sky was black and too covered with gray clouds of falling snowflakes, well, then maybe the stars could be right beside you.

You whispered his name in the dark.

It was like he was catching snowflakes on his cheeks, his expression melting with your reply, his face flushing pink, and you gripped your thighs, lifting them up. He got the hint, moving his arms and then your legs were on his shoulders. Slow. You smacked your hips up to deepen his thrust, earning another frown and furrowed brow, greeting it with your smile.

This should make you feel fake. This should make you feel wrong, like you were using him to distract from something bigger, but somehow it didn’t, and that was so strange, because you were pretty sure that was what this was, right, but then his words came back to you, I miss you, written in those tight scribbles, I hope she could tell how happy I was just looking into her beautiful eyes, and you looked into his eyes now, shortened breath, shivering from pleasure, racing heartbeat leaping to your throat and Jungkook noticed your gaze, shaking his head like a dog to brush the black hair out of his eyes so he could look back, his shaking exhale matching yours, warmth drifting between you and him.

And it was true.

You were afraid to leave the broken home of your thoughts, because what if it was worse out there?

He searched your eyes.

You let him, not knowing what he was searching for.

He lowered slightly, changing the angle. Deeper, his dark brown irises catching the light, glittering, alive stars, these not light-years away, but right there, right there, and you reached out to touch, your fingertips ghosting his cheek and jaw, his low moan cutting through the haze of the high, your hand reaching back and clutching his hair, tugging lightly. His eyes closing, lashes fluttering, harder, faster, your hips rising, tighter, more resistance, increased depth and intensity, Jungkook, his name leaving your lips again and he shuddered, spellbound by your voice, his tongue flicking against the top half of his lower lip, struggling to open his eyes again but the weight of lust kept them half-lidded, so close, fluttering breath, almost, holding him back with another tug of his hair, letting your tongue trace the inside of your open lips.

There.

It ate you up so fast, so fast, a whirlwind of compounded sensation and sparks shooting down to your core and vicious throbs sinking into your hips, gasping as you came around his jerking cock, ecstasy unbound, his own moan in an arc, his head tipped back to the ceiling, your hand still in his hair, him burying deep into constricting wet warmth and succumbing to it, his shivers traveling from his chest to your thighs, and you felt your eyes closing, lost in the reality and being okay with it.

I miss you.

For once, these words were not directed at your past self.

You drew a breath, your hand in his hot, sweaty hair, and you missed Jungkook already even though he wasn’t gone.

“I read it.”

You admitted it plainly, clearly.

His little black book between you two, you wrapped in a blanket and him wrapped in another, staring down at it.

Jungkook nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

It sounded defeatist.

“You think I’m a weirdo, huh?” he mumbled softly, pulling the blanket around him tighter.

You reached to the side of the bed, in between the mattress and the bedframe and smacked down your own black, leather-bound notebook.

“That makes two of us.”

His eyes widened, and he stared down at it as you pushed it to him, your hand on top of it, determined, because it was time. You spent enough time being a coward. No more, firmly pinning your notebook in front of Jeon Jungkook, I fill my days with the way it was, and I fill my nights with broken dreams, and if this was it, if you were the broken dream, then he deserved to know how broken, he derserved your honesty, and you thought you would be afraid, and yet…

Jungkook lifted his head and stared at you.

You weren’t.

He shook his head.

“Not today.”

You blinked at him.

He looked back down at your notebook and the blanket opened, his larger, tattooed hand reaching out, placing his hand over yours. A weight but somehow not heavy.

“I will read it if you want me to read it,” he said, and he lifted his head, breathing out slowly, holding your hand tighter, and you could see he was waiting for you to run, waiting for you melt and disappear into nothing. As if he was trying to grasp a snowflake. “But… I don’t want you to think you have to show me just because you read mine.” He smiled, rueful and sheepish. “Actually, I wanted you to read my journal. I hoped you would, so I kept leaving it open and letting it fall out. I was too nervous to… I kept trying to think of the right words to…” He shook his head rapidly, lost even now. “But they sounded insincere. I like you so much and if only I was enough…”

You laughed dryly and Jungkook looked up, confused.

“That’s why you should read my musings,” you countered. “Because we are one and the same, Jeon Jungkook.”

You lifted your hand and took your notebook, placing it into his lap, closing his hand over it.

“Both held down by an idea in the past, because that’s all it is, you know,” you shivered, keeping his hand over the soft leather cover. “I thought, if only, if only, if only, if I changed this or that, if I tried a little harder, if I hadn’t been so focused on becoming an adult, if I loved myself a little more, then maybe young me wouldn’t have been so miserable, maybe young me wouldn’t have let so many people walk over her, maybe the me of now wouldn’t be stuck and haunted by what it was, so I could…”

You suddenly realized you were staring into his eyes, running your mouth.

Stars.

Not light-years away.

Right here.

Be honest.

“I let her get hurt, no, I hurt my younger self on purpose, because I wasn’t brave enough to believe I had a future.”

The stars looked back, and they burned bright.

“I let everyone else decide my life and when I realized I no longer had control of my future, I ran away and became a nobody,” he breathed, and you could hear the guilt, the weight of having let them all down. “I was too scared to speak up for myself, because I couldn’t trust my own dedication when everyone else had always so confidently made choices for me.” His tone stricken, torn between the possibility of him being ungrateful or worse, selfish. “I pretended like it wasn’t happening and continued acting like a kid without responsibilities until it all fell apart and I had to choose.”

It was almost shameful, saying it out loud.

“I sometimes miss who I was back then,” you mumbled, distorted, feeling weak for saying so. “Even if it was the worst… I was a kid, and I could forgive myself for not knowing who I was, but now I’m an adult and I still don’t know.”

You looked up and Jungkook was looking back. It was like two lights meeting in the darkness. No. It was like...

Like snow falling from a black sky.

Jungkook gazed into her eyes and the spring day was already here.

The rare snow in spring, right here, in front of his eyes and holding his hand, and he realized that didn’t mean that winter clung on. This was something new, something unique, something he would regret to forget, so he turned his hand around and held hers, her book pressed to his thigh.

“I used to think I wanted to go back to the way it was,” he said softly. “But I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

Her expression softened.

“Why?”

So small but with so much emotion behind the simple question. An intricate snowflake tumbling down, down.

“I wouldn’t have met you.”

He grinned, and he knew for sure now, that he believed in this.

“Life is so much more fun with you in it.”

He moved the books aside, the past in the past, and closed the distance between them, blanket to blanket, wrapping his around hers, insistently nudging her into his lap, and she resisted, albeit weakly, since it seemed that she couldn’t quite look him in the face, tucking her head under his chin, saying nothing.

But then her lips brushed against his skin, right by his collarbone.

“Don’t make me miss you,” she whispered.

He didn’t have to think twice, kissing the top of her head.

“I won’t.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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urdgealesisbaby · 3 months

Note

Hii. I have a request. Could you please write a scenario with Guren, Crowley and Ferid where their s/o is always quiet? Thank you in advance

Hello! Sure thing! <3

Also i made like a mix between a scenario and headcanons for this request bcs i couldn't think of a proper scenario xD.

Guren Ichinose,Crowley Eusford and Ferid Bathory with a s/o who is always quiet

Guren Ichinose

-I think that you two will most likely match your energy

-Like he is a quiet person himself,he just has a loud personality when there's more people around or so.

-he would very much appreciate the fact that you're quiet because he likes the quiet kind-of-love.

-he isn't much of a talkative person himself so prepare to do quiet activities together

-Between you two there's a sweet-like love going on,it's just that not so many people know that because of your quietness.

"Love,I think that we should really tell the people around us that we're together." Guren says.

"Why do you think that,Guren?" you ask,surprised at his request.

He then comes to you,where both of your eyes met.

"Love,there's people out there that think we're just friends.I want them to know we're together.I mean,I'd be happy to announce the fact that we are in fact a couple." he says.

"You're really the best,you know that,you fool?" you say.

"Only for you."

He then kisses you passionately while he embraces you and puts his hands around your waist.

Crowley Eusford

-I don't think that Crowley would have a problem with your quietness.

-sure,he himself isn't a very quiet person,but the fact that you are a quiet person doesn't really bother him in the slightest,so he's alright with it

-Though if sometimes you're too quiet he'll ask what is going on and if you're under a bad mood or if anything has happened.

-he's a very careful man around you so yeah if you're being sooo quiet he might become concerned about your health

-Though when you tell him that there's nothing wrong with you,he understands you and tries to not bother you with his questions about your quietness anymore.

-He just wants to reassure himself that everything is alright between you two and you're not upset or sad about anything that's going on.

"Baby,is there anything that's bothering you,my love?" Crowley asks,concerned.

"I told you like 100 times.I'm fine,we're already living together for like 2 years,haven't you noticed that I'm always quiet?"you ask him,not really expecting a response.

"I'm sorry love,I just wanna know if you're alright and everything is going fine in your life."

As he says that,he hugs you from behind and places a kiss on your neck.

Ferid Bathory

-OPPOSITES

-how the hell did you manage to get with him? Only you and him know I suppose.

-at first,he doesn't even know how to properly talk to you without making it weird

-I suppose that you're the first person to make Ferid Bathory question his words before saying them.And I mean it,I don't think this man has met many people like you and became a couple with them.

-It's kinda weird because he knows that you aren't upset with him or angry at him(or maybe you are,he's Ferid after all)but he still want to make sure that nothing is wrong with you.

-He'll sometimes try to be quiet too just so he can feel what his darling feels.

-of course he fails to be quiet everytime,but at least he tries? I guess we can give him bonus points for trying.

"Y/n,look at me now." he says in a deep voice.

He then grabs you by your chin and starts examining your face.

"Hmmmm....nothing wrong also today...hmm" he continues.

"Ferid.....I'm your lover for like 3 years? Why do you always seem surprised at my quietness?" you say,looking at his eyes.

"I really am not surprised,but it gets kinda fun when I try to 'examine' you" he then laughs.

"So this is really just something so that you can touch my face?" you ask him.

"Maybe,you'll never know though."

As he says that,he caresses your cheeks and then kisses your lips.

Thank you for your request!

I hope you liked these!:)

#seraph of the end #ons #owari no serafu #ferid bathory #guren ichinose #guren x reader #ons guren #guren squad #crowleyeusford #crowley headcanons #crowley x reader #crowley eusford #crowley #ferid ons #ferid x reader #ferid bathory x reader #owari no seraph

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prototypelq · 4 months

Note

DMC Questions Anon here!

This has always been on a "maybe" list of questions I'm not really sure if I actually want to ask or not, but decided why the hell not with Valentine's Day around the corner (I would ask on Valentine's day, but with my at least ten days between questions thing (which I still might be a teensy bit flexible with) doing that would mean I wouldn't be able to ask another question I want to ask when I want to ask it).

What are all your Devil May Cry ships? Which one is your favorite? Which do you think about the most?

Hi Ember, thank you for the ask! It's Valentine's, so I think I have a kind of obligation to answer this one today xD Sorry for being less active lately. However, I'm not out of the DMC woods yet, and I will try to participate in fandom week however I can.

Now, for the ask itself - I think the answer is rather obvious. DMC is primarily a family of losers drama, and I'm all here for it. Except NeroKiri and Sparda/Eva, those are adorable and we should appreciate them more)))

That being said, in a safe space, far far far away from canon, I really dig Dante/Lucia and Vergil/Lady*.

*Actually I think Vergil/Lady could be a possible post-dmc5 development too, or at least, I see their personal arcs aligning a bit past that point, cause both will need to adjust to 'normal human life', maybe they can go through that journey together. sadly the same cannot be said for Dante/Lucia, I think their opportunity in canon is far gone at this point, still I imagine they have nothing but respect for each other

Both of these will be adorable, also I can only envision the extreme 'double date' shenanigans, or, lord forbid, 'date advice' for or for twins. The romantic comedy potential in this far-far-far-away-from-canon scenario is completely off the charts. I'm surprised we're not talking more about this tbh.

Here be some date ideas, because I can be a shipping mess and I am legally allowed to today:

Sparda/Eva went to concert dates. I am all hands down for 'weird girl' Kyrie headcanons, and I am also both hands down for the same for Eva. She was a metalhead, maybe even a singer in a band. Even if she wasn't, you can pry my headcanon that she's the origin of the twins' musical talent out of my cold. dead. hands.

NeroKiri should go to a concert date too, for sure. But I think a sunset walk around the city, or maybe a fair would also be a good thing for them. Definitely cinema dates for these two. In general, they're probably good with any time spent together.

Dante/Lucia - Prime Soft Material TM. Dante is a prime gentleman when he wants to be, also Lucia is quite tender by nature. I imagine they'd have a good time on a botanical garden walk (Dante's okay with pretty much anything, Lucia would like something beautiful and educational). Maybe a picnic.

Vergil/Lady - wohooo these two are explosive. I imagine half of their time together is spent in a competitive mood, as both crave and thrive in it, and the other is them just... relaxing together somewhere, probably somewhere expensive, these two are classy. I feel like they'd be at each other's throats and head over heels almost in equal measure. If we're talking post-dmc5 scenario, then it's much more timid for them. At this point in their lives both are kind of tired of constant danger, even if the hunger for adrenaline will forever remain. It'd be a much slower and gradual process for them, likely developed over casually meeting or going on missions together. (Dante and Trish sniff them out miles away and squeal in true shipper glee on the inside) As for date ideas - vinery trip, maybe a literature evening (if Lady has it in her) or a theatre date. Last one seems the most likely to me.

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zankydraws · 7 months

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I'm working on a little series of El Cool P pics that are supposed to be funny and memey but I accidentally put a lot of effort into them xD

I am currently stuck making the third drawing because I just can't draw my man right 😔which is annoying and weird because I'm only making a sketch and here I am struggling dkfjhg

I also drew Blue GT who turned out fine at least jhghjf (his face is my mood rn)

I wanted to make at least three drawings and post them but if I don't manage to make this thang look good, I will just post the other two pics today I guess lol

#zankytalks #i'm just so impatient #normally i post everything i make instantly so this is hard for me kdjfhgkj #i just wanna share my stuff with the world..#i feel like you guys might really like one of the pics i made eheh #it certainly made me lose some brain cells alright

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teecupangel · 1 year

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College is so stressful but anyway what if Desmond wears eyeliner or kohl and wear feminine and masculine clothes depending his mood because he seems androgynous to me and when he timetravels and just go "fuck gender roles" and kills templars while he grows his hair and wears jewellery and lace

I hope you get some time to relax soon! And the awesome thing about Desmond is that he changes face in every game that we can call him androgynous if we feel like it. Dude doesn’t really have a canon face anyway. And even if he doesn’t, this involves time traveling so we can just chalk the sudden androgynous look to some kind of Isu BS XD

Desmond will definitely be the bisexual awakening of a lot of people with his time hopping. Altaïr alone would be more confused than he was when he found out Maria was pretending to be Robert. If anything could be considered sorcery, it would be Desmond’s ability to confuse the hell out of people. They meet him wearing masculine clothes and think “Oh, he’s a dude” and then their next meeting with him, he’d be wearing feminine clothes and be like “??????” and BSOD.

Altaïr would try to push any confusion he might have and focus on gaining the information he needs from Desmond (who may or may not have killed someone to get the information, the Brotherhood can’t be sure) but, goddamn it, that’s hard to do when he’s just standing nearby, watching Desmond put on kohl on his eyes and painting his lips red just because he was ‘feeling pretty’ today, whatever the hell that means and he’s just draped in silk bedsheets because he hasn’t thought of what clothes he should wear today and Altaïr is pretty sure Desmond is doing this on purpose because there’s no fucking way that bedsheet coincidentally just slipped enough that Altaïr could see his collarbone. Then Desmond tells him to check his chest and pick a dress for him and holy shit, there are undergarments there that Altaïr had never seen before and his brain just gives up on him that way and all blood flowed downward after that.

Ezio would know Desmond as Leonardo’s favorite muse and he’d flirt with him, thinking he’s a woman at first. Ezio and Desmond would definitely have some fun and Ezio’s just going to be ‘oh, cool’ with anything Desmond does. Seeing Desmond assassinate someone will always be hot regardless of what clothes he decided to wear during that time. (The Borgias will definitely have a boner for him and it’s half hot-person-yummy and half he-can’t-be-more-beautiful/handsome-than-us, especially from Lucrezia). Ezio and Desmond definitely posed for one of Leonardo’s works (that doesn’t exist in the OG timeline) and it’s the steamiest painting Leonardo had ever done.

Haytham’s prudeness will definitely make him annoyed, both at Desmond himself and at his own attraction to seeing Desmond wearing those infuriating scandalous clothes. Ratonhnhaké:ton, on the other hand, would just think “white people weirdness” when he first sees Desmond. When he learns that other white people think Desmond is weird, at that point, Ratonhnhaké:ton wouldn’t even care anymore as he liked Desmond as a person and he likes seeing Desmond smiles. Desmond is also Ratonhnhaké:ton’s plus one for Myriam and Norris even though Ratonhnhaké:ton told him that he doesn’t understand what a ‘plus one’ even means. Ratonhnhaké:ton wouldn’t say it outloud but he thought Desmond outshone Myriam on her own wedding day.

Shay’s definitely going to be tongue-tied whenever he sees Desmond. Also, Desmond got a few fashion tips from Hope and he looks so good in female Assassin robes that he definitely outshines Hope. Liam likes to tease him about it but even he’s not immune to Desmond’s charm, especially when Desmond stares at him. Even when Shay defected, he could never raise his hand against Desmond and… maybe a part of him enjoyed being stepped on by Desmond’s heels, he’s trying not to think too deeply about it considering he can already see Haytham’s disapproving face.

Arno… Arno would find him strange, sure, and he’s definitely going to ignore his attraction to him because he’s in love with Élise, damn it. But it is becoming too hard to ignore it when Élise always finds ways to leave him behind while he will always see Desmond in the cafe, smiling at him as he welcomed him back. He doesn’t even know where he stands with Élise anymore and Desmond… Desmond confuses him so much but, at the same time, Desmond is the only person who makes so much sense right now that… fuck, Arno’s going to get drunk and just let his drunk self do whatever. He’ll deal with the consequences later.

It’s Jacob who sees Desmond first. Flirts with him ‘cause he thought he was a woman. Evie sees him next while he’s wearing masculine clothes… but Evie can’t be sure. There’s something about the way he moved and the way he looked that just makes Evie unable to fully conclude that she is seeing a man. Jacob and Evie never see him at the same time. Every time they see him, they see him as a woman for Jacob and a man for Evie. Then they finally see him together, wearing formless clothes that could worn by anyone and he’s talking to Ned and they’re both “ooooohhhhh” but they don’t really get it, they just think they do.

#i was thinking how the layla trilogy would deal with this #and the only conclusion i can think of is #bayek shows respect regardless #kassandra/alexios and eivor tries to seduce him regardless #desmond as everybody’s androgynous bisexual reawakening #altdes and ezides definitely fuuuuuuccckkkkeeeedddd #arndes probably fucked too but arno has no memories of it #no usual tags because #altdes #ezides #haydes #condes #shaydes #arndes #jacdes #i guess evie has a crush on him so #evides #ask and answer

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system-of-a-feather · 4 months

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Man, I'm starting to do better now and honestly, I was never all that particularly bad in the first place - but we've gotten to the place in healing where usually if we have a "down mood" or a stress period or a breakdown, usually its explicitly because of a really difficult trigger of sorts and less this just... neurochemical dysfunction that I think was starting to build up.

And I'm pretty sure thats cause I haven't been able to lay down for a week or shower or work out and so a lot of our usual main most consistent fundamental self care things have been cut out due to the whole recovering from top surgery - but I dragged myself up and around, got some socializing with my mom, my fiance helped a bit in getting our brain to rotate parts even briefly which is helpful cause I've been largely frontstuck due to being in recovery and that REALLY helped make our brain not feel like its largely turned off, and actually getting a sponge bath of sorts honestly just helped.

But honestly the downside to recovery is that stuff like that - things that would still be considered a good day compared to how bad we used to be, feel like shit now just cause we got used to and comfortable not feeling like shit (good thing)

But anyways, doing better and hanging in there man.

((Also the really weird thing about me is that I am REALLY bad and REALLY don't like waiting for the world to give me feedback on my plans to know if I need to go with Plan B or if Plan A is good to go; and so unironically, yesterday and even most of today, I think I would have been happy to hear EVERY PhD program I applied to reject me than to deal with another ten minutes of no response. Cause I am more than fine rerouting and honestly almost excited to have to outline a new path to my goals starting August 2025 and so rejection is fine, but like XD I'm doing better now enough to at least not be going "COME ON YOU CAN JUST REJECT ME SO I CAN MOVE ON WITH LIFE" like a totally normal person.))

#alter: riku #vent #vent tw

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tarisilmarwen · 1 year

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Rebels Rewatch: “Rise of the Old Masters“

Happy Father’s Day! Rather appropriately we are talking about a keystone Kanan-Ezra episode today. I swear I didn’t plan that, just how the timing worked out, lol.

Anyway...

I briefly mentioned this in my coverage of “Spark of Rebellion” but one of the reoccurring elements that tend to crop up in all my favorite characters (because I’m horribly predictable and have a Type) is:

“Has complicated yet ultimately heartwarming storgeic relationship with (surrogate) father figure.”

Soooooooo yeah, Kanan and Ezra pretty much hit me right in that particular button.

Poor Kanan fumbling with the lessons that came so instinctively to him. XD

“Actually that one always confused me too.” Love that Kanan can admit it.

Kanan’s approach is almost adorable in how inept it is, he’s just kind of throwing things against the wall hoping something will stick. In perhaps the worst environment to do any of this.

(Seriously Kanan, on top of the Ghost, while it’s in midair?! Disaster was inevitable.)

Hhhngl, look how Ezra’s eyes light up when Kanan offers him the lightsaber, he’s so eager for this.

Another quick instance of Ezra flinching as if anticipating being hit, watch close and you can see he ducks his head as well as squeezes his eyes closed briefly.

Kanan forgot to teach good weapons safety lol.

Ezra actually gets a few cartons when he peeks. :)

Aaaaaand down he goes, certain unmentioned uncharitable portions of fandom will not let up on Kanan about this particular series of mistakes.

Is practicing on top of the Ghost irresponsible child endangerment? Yes but... that’s literally the point????? Kanan has no idea what he’s doing and makes horrible mistakes left and right????? That’s why he’s so afraid and reluctant to teach Ezra????? That’s his whole motivation for wanting to go get Luminara?????

Oh but if characters do not relate to each other absolutely perfectly without any friction or conflict or mistakes whatsoever that’s horrible and toxic.

Said at least one Maul stan without a hint of irony.

Okay, done salting, let’s enjoy this moment of Ezra trying to play it cool in front of Sabine despite being in eminent danger of falling to his death.

“What, no, this is nothing. I’m fine.” XD

Fun fact: Pretty sure a gifset of this moment was one of the first Rebels-related posts I ever saw on my dashboard.

Hera looks very concerned here, lol.

And our first glimpse of what a Loth-cat looks like. Cutest addition to the Star Wars menagerie ever.

Ezra’s theme is piping in here, fragmented and quiet.

*resists the urge to go into another ranting paragraph about how uncharitable parties in fandom use this scene to argue that the Ghost crew are actually terrible towards Ezra and don’t care about him properly*

Once again, everything in the eyes. So much is unspoken but conveyed with just a look.

Friiiiiiick his expression here breaks my heart.

Casually referencing the events of last episode which should have been fandom’s first clue that it was more narratively tied into things than they thought and also introducing a new story element that plays out later. I don’t remember what I thought about Gall Trayvis the first time around, I’m pretty sure I found it weird and fishy though.

Ha ha ha the casual Fridge Horror of the Imperial broadcaster talking about a “planetary liberation” via Base Delta Zero protocol.

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO MIGHT NOT KNOW: Base Delta Zero is basically code for “Have a bunch of Star Destroyers systematically incinerate everything on a planet’s surface from orbit.”

Soooooo yeah, there’s probably not much left of that particular “liberated” world.

Kind of interesting that Ezra chooses to confide in Chopper about his fears here.

I do like the nice cloud effects.

Kanan is in a very serious mood here, one we haven’t seen from him yet. Speaks to the depths of how badly he wants this to succeed.

Badass Stormtrooper takedown immediately ruined by feral gremlin child. <3

Aaaaaand yet another instance of Ezra flinching like he expects Kanan to hit him. Just what exactly caused such a pronounced startle effect, exactly?

Don’t think about bby Ezra growing up on the streets, don’t think about bby Ezra growing up on the streets--

Ezra looks so crestfallen here ow ow ow ow. :(

Hera shivers as if it’s cold, which could be taken straightforwardly but also I like to think she senses the bad vibes about the place.

Oh hey, now’s a good time to remind people of the horrible headcanon theory someone sent me about why Kanan can still sense Luminara even though she’s dead.

You’re welcome.

LOOK AT THIS TIRED FATHER AND HIS THREE HORRIBLE CHILDREN. Love how Zeb and Sabine openly roast him while he’s right there, terrible influences on Ezra the both of you. XD

Snrk, the one Stormtrooper getting his helmet caught in the lift doors lololol.

The music has been periodically sparse throughout this episode, the quiet parts giving all focus to dialogue, but it’s picked up quite a bit here.

I hear the Force Theme strings prelude of course.

It is physically painful how much Ezra already hero-worships Kanan and looks up to him. He didn’t want to learn how to be a Jedi from just anyone, he wanted to learn from Kanan specifically because thinks Kanan is so cool and amazing. Ezra is constantly in awe of him this episode.

But, I mean, is it any wonder that an emotionally vulnerable teenage boy with deeply-seated abandonment issues would latch onto the first available and positive adult male influence in his life?

The Force theme coming in more fully here to trick us right before the horrible reveal, though the way it sours on the end note is a little five-second musical foreshadowing.

Hi Grand, bringing the Imperial March with you I see.

And then his theme breaks in after the commercial break cut and lemme just appreciate it again, it’s so nicely dark and foreboding. That tiny little snatch of Force Theme on the trumpet can barely be heard through it, it’s too overpowering.

Grand refrains from going for an easy kill several times this fight. He likes to play with his food, apparently. Even toying with Kanan he’s waaaaaay outclassing him, very neat and precise fencing strokes here.

Kanan’s heavy flailing is actually very at odds with his supposed preferred form, Soresu, Form 3, a primarily reflective and defensive form, which makes Grand’s comment about him being a poor student sting a bit more.

Lololol my man doesn’t even flinch at Ezra’s slingshot bolts.

Hngl the smoke element is fantastic here. Watch it waft around Kanan and Ezra as they run through it. This is not the kind of effect work you usually get on CGI kids cartoon shows.

Kanan’s form actually improves a bit after the cutaway, his footing is more solid and he’s expending less effort, making his blocking stances more effective at turning back Grand’s blade. So that jibe from Grand apparently kicked Kanan’s brain into focus.

Oh yep, all those troopers are dead, that is not a survivable explosion.

Kanan’s managing the spinny Jedi flips now; he’s untensing and likely falling back into muscle memory and connection to the Force. I love how Star Wars tends to depict Jedi survivors getting back into practice after they haven’t picked up their sabers or connected to the Force in a long while, awkward at first but slowly getting the hang of it again, remembering their training, moving through basics into more complex moves until they’re comfortable again. I know A New Dawn also depicts Kanan tapping into the Force as straining a muscle that hasn’t been used in a while, nice consistency across the board there.

“He is unfocused and undisciplined.” “Well then we’re perfect for each other!”

And one of my favorite Papa Wolf Kanan moments right here when Kanan slams Grand up against the ceiling. :)

The Force Theme is finally louder and more confident here and Grand’s has taken a pause.

Buuuuuuut it’s soon back in force lol.

I dunno what it is but I really love the animation in Grand’s unflinching run through the closing doors here, even when he has to leap over them he doesn’t even break stride.

Ezra’s slicing and lockpicking skills kind of fall by the wayside as he focuses more on Jedi training, which is kind of a shame, I liked that he was a bit tech-savvy in ways Sabine wasn’t.

Why I like to include little moments here and there in my fics where he still gets to use his talents.

Can I appreciate this little moment of Sabine reaching for him in concern?

Of course I can, who’s going to stop me?

And one of my favorite master-padawan moments right here, Kanan finally giving some solid instruction (”Picture the locking mechanism in your mind.”), doing it with him, and it’s something easy that Ezra can already do albeit on a bigger scale.

A very victorious Force Theme to mark the occasion. :)

Something Rebels does when it needs to emphasize Kanan and Ezra’s connection is basically have them mirror each other’s pose, this is one of the first examples. Ezra’s straining a little bit more in his expression but they’re perfectly in sync and mirror-matched limb for limb.

WHICH DOESN’T NECESSARILY MAKE THE PARALLELED IMAGERY IN THE FINALE HURT MORE BUT IT ADDS A LAYER.

Ohhhhhhh hang on, does anyone wonder if Hera leading the tibedees here was inspiration for the eventual purrgil surprise?

It’s on theme at least, lol.

I hear the “Rebels Shenanigans” leitmotif here, bit more dramatic than normal, lovely.

Ezra’s theme coming in as we return to Lothal and man, there’s really nothing I could say about this scene that hasn’t already been said, this is one of fandom’s favorites, we can all spill ink about Ezra’s fear of abandonment and Kanan’s sense of inadequacy and how the Force tends to bring together pairs that teach and grow each other.

How Kanan finally figures out and understands what Yoda’s “Do or do not” line means, how it’s all about your mental state, you can’t give up before you’ve started, you have to be all in and fully committed.

How he’s realizing he has to commit to this and not half-ass it and that leads him to adjust his strategy and go much slower and more meticulously in this lovely little last scene which has the distinct look and feel of a father and son playing catch in the yard. ^_^

Our first real “plot-heavy“ episode of the series, heavy on the drama and interpersonal character conflict. Can see why it’s the episode that convinced a lot of people to stay on board. It delves much more deeply into Kanan and Ezra’s master-padawan connection, the Found Family aspects of which are, of course, widely loved. Their relationship was always one of the show’s strengths. Like Ezra and Zeb’s friendship it starts off rocky but there’s an extra emotional and personal element in that Kanan is the teacher, the “parent”, and they’re both connected to the Force, something no one else can teach Ezra about. Kanan has to be the one to guide Ezra through that learning process because he’s the only one who understands it, who can bring that aspect out of Ezra and make him truly who he is.

Kanan really starts to step up after this. He’s still got a LOT of fears and worries and insecurities, as he’ll tell Yoda later, but he’s over his initial mental block now. All the better for Ezra, for helping him feel wanted and safe. :)

Ahhhh I love this episode, the character growth from this point to the end is just *chef kiss*. More worried spacedad Kanan up next week, hopefully I’ll have that post up quicker than this one.

Coming in last minute like my newborn last month oy.

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #space dad and his precious pumpkin child #rebels rewatch #liveblog

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