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shebunie · 6 months

Note

HIIIIII! could you do a mizu x reader when reader teases mizu so much that mizu snaps and erm...things get suggestive or just plain smut IDK 🙏🏽

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭

𝗠𝗶𝘇𝘂 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟭𝟴+, 𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄, 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗿! 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗶 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗱, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘆𝗲𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗳-𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟮.𝟲𝗸 𝐀/𝐍: 𝗛𝗶 <𝟯, 𝗮𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗵𝘂, 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝘇𝘂, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱! 𝗠𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗜 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝗿𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗳𝗳. 𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗬 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗦 𝗦𝟮!

"I don’t want company."

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the tranquil landscape. Mizu, the stoic yet skilled samurai, sat beneath a cherry blossom tree, taking a moment of relaxation from her travels. Her sword rested beside her, reflecting the fading sunlight. However, her solitude was soon interrupted by your arrival.

You, an adventurous and cheeky soul, approached her with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I couldn't resist the allure of a lone samurai beneath the cherry blossoms," you declared, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

“What's gotten you so grumpy?”

Mizu's piercing gaze met yours, her expression unwavering. "I said, I don’t want company," she replied, a hint of irritation in her tone.

Undeterred, you plopped down beside her, ignoring her warning. "Oh, come on, Mizu! Even a samurai needs a break. Plus, it's a crime to waste such a beautiful evening in solitude," you teased, leaning closer to her.

She sighed, realizing that you were not easily deterred. "I value my solitude. It sharpens my focus and keeps me attuned to the world around me," Mizu explained, attempting to maintain her composure.

You chuckled, tracing patterns on the grass with your fingers. "I get that, I do. But even the mighty Mizu needs a break from being a stone-cold warrior sometimes. Don't you ever get tired of all that serious stuff?"

Mizu's stoic facade cracked ever so slightly as she shot you a sideways glance. "I don't get tired. I endure," she retorted.

Your grin widened, clearly enjoying her reactions. "Endure, huh? Well, how about enduring some good company for a change? It might be just what you need."

A subtle tension hung in the air as Mizu's patience wore thin. "I've endured many challenges and adversaries. Dealing with you might be the most formidable one yet," she remarked, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

A hand to your mouth, feigning shock enveloped your features, “Of course, you seem to be the only one who can handle it anyway.”

Each remark a playful jab, and each counter a carefully calculated response. The verbal sparring evolved into a dance of wit and charm. Mizu found herself caught in the web of your playful teasing, her steely resolve slowly giving way to the unexpected allure of your company.

As the moon began to rise, casting a silvery glow on the landscape, you decided to up the ante. "You know, Mizu, beneath that tough exterior, I bet there's a samurai with a heart that longs for a little excitement," you mused, a sly grin playing on your lips.

Mizu raised an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and defiance in her gaze. "I have no interest in power or money. I have no interest in being happy. Only satisfied."

“And what if I told you that a bit of someone, might just be the key to satisfaction?”

You leaned in, your voice a soft whisper against the gentle rustling of the cherry blossoms as you lifted a finger to trace along the jaw of the wielder. The strand of her hair followed the breeze, your eyes traced along the bridge of her nose, down to her upturned lips.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at you.” you voiced, Mizu couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of discomfort and curiosity. Your presence, initially an unwelcome intrusion, now presented a challenge that intrigued her. She shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, trying to maintain her composure.

"I prefer to be unseen," Mizu remarked, her tone stern, but a glimmer of uncertainty lingered in her eyes.

You chuckled softly, the mischievous glint in your eyes undiminished. "But you look so pretty like this. Do I make you nervous?”

Mizu, unaccustomed to such flattery, found herself at a loss for words. The air around you two was charged with a newfound tension, a delicate balance between the solitude she sought and the unexpected charm you brought. The cherry blossoms overhead seemed to sway in approval, as if nature itself acknowledged the subtle shift in the atmosphere.

Your soft fingers that lingered on her face, held her chin and gently turned her gaze to you. The moon illuminated the scene, casting shadows that played on your features, giving you an almost ethereal quality.

For a moment, Mizu's stoic exterior wavered. She glanced away, the touch of your finger on her skin tingled, breaking eye contact, and the moonlight revealed a hint of vulnerability. "Empty flattery won't change my resolve," she declared, her voice a mixture of defiance and self-assurance.

But you were undeterred, your playful demeanour persisting. "Who said anything about changing your resolve? I just thought you could use a break from it every now and then," you replied shifting your focus on the sword between you, ever so carefully gliding your fingers along the hilt.

Mizu's internal struggle played out on her face, a silent battle between the disciplined warrior and the unforeseen allure of your company.

“You look troubled,” the sultry tone of your voice called her out. Mizu let out a sigh, her resistance crumbling like a dam giving way to the persistent flow of water. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she found herself drawn into the magnetic field of your presence. "I am not troubled, I just don't want to be bothered," she insisted, though her gaze betrayed a conflict within.

Your fingers continued to dance along the intricate details of her sword, a silent acknowledgement of the craftsmanship that mirrored the complexities of Mizu herself. A sigh escaped your soft lips, “Then I’ll leave you to it.” Standing from your position, smoothing down your kimono as you turned around to leave the stoic wielder alone with the presence of the moonlit sakura’s

Mizu, unable to fully articulate the conflicting emotions within her, found herself reacting on an impulse she didn't quite understand. Her hand, the same one that had just moments ago wielded a sword with precision and control, now held onto the delicate fabric of your sleeve. Eyes, usually sharp and focused, betrayed a mix of uncertainty and something else—an unspoken acknowledgement of a connection.

You turned to look at her, surprise evident in your eyes. The air crackled with tension as Mizu's gaze held yours, the silent exchange conveying more than words ever could. In that brief moment, the boundaries that she had meticulously built around herself began to blur. She pulled you to sit on her lap.

"I didn't ask for this," Mizu grumbled, attempting to salvage some semblance of control over the situation.

With a playful smirk, you retorted, "Well, you did say you endure, right? Consider this endurance training for, an unexpected guest." Snaking your arms around her neck, the subtle touch of your fingers on the back of her neck sent shivers down her spine.

Long slender fingers gripped your face, squishing your cheeks and making you form a pout, “This persistent attitude of yours reminds me of someone,” Mizu’s patience ran thin on your teasing, a frown etched on her face while she squinted her eyes.

You couldn't help but laugh at her attempt to regain control, your pout turning into a playful grin. "Oh, really? And who might that be?" you asked, your voice a melodic muffled blend of amusement and curiosity.

“Just like Taigen when we were children,” her grip on your plush face remained, a different glint evident in her cerulean eyes, “A fucking brat.” Pushing you down on the soft grass, as she hovered above you, her weight supported by her strong arms.

The world seemed to slow down as Mizu's unexpected move left you breathless. The scent of cherry blossoms lingered in the air, and the moonlight painted a surreal backdrop for the unfolding moment. The playful banter had given way to a charged atmosphere, and the tension between you two became palpable.

Mizu's gaze bore into yours, a mixture of intensity and a flicker of something more. The fingers that had gripped your face now traced a delicate path down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The weight of her body pressed against yours, and a primal energy passed between you, unspoken yet undeniable.

“I can be a brat.”

The soft rustling of the leaves overhead seemed to echo the beating of your hearts as Mizu's lips, once firm and resolute, hovered tantalizingly close to yours. Her eyes, usually guarded, now betrayed a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

"Oh, I know you can," Mizu declared, her voice low and commanding, fingers gently traced along the collar of your kimono, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down your spine.

"You’ll do as I say," she asked, her tone firm. "no defiance, no resistance. just complete submission." Undoing the ties of her makeshift belt with one hand as the other gathered your wrists, slowly and deliberately tying it together, ensuring you're completely at her mercy.

Mizu can see the anticipation in your eyes, the desire to be dominated and brought to your limits. “Keep those wrists exactly where they are," she commanded, voice leaving no room for negotiation.

"I want to see just how well you can follow orders." She proceeded to explore your body with rough fingertips, caressing and teasing every inch of your exposed skin.

You closed your legs together, “I don't think I follow orders that well,” feeling every tantalizing touch of the samurai, goosebumps rising from your skin as your breath wavered.

Looking at the wielders eyes, a mischievous glint danced in her gaze. "Oh, we'll see about that," she purred, her fingers tracing a slow path up your inner thigh. "Resistance can be quite entertaining."

As she leaned in, her warm breath grazed your ear. "Perhaps I'll have to find more creative ways to make you obey," she teased, her fingers lightly dancing along your collarbone. "You won't be closing those legs for long."

“come on my love speak up, what do you want? you want me to fuck you open for all of them to see?" Mizu whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. She cocked her head to the side, your gaping lips brushing her earlobe as another whine escaped your throat. You whimper, the sudden feeling of her soft lips kissing your body never failing to make you feel crazy.

Mizu’s fingers drift down, fiddling with the hem of your garment before teasing you from the outside. Her boney fingers lightly ran over your underwear, soaking cunt leaking through the fabric.

Whines and begs slipping from your mouth, pleas for her to touch you. But, she stops, looking you dead in the eyes, “what do you want? say it, use your words.” She demands, watching you so closely you could come just from her gaze.

“Please, mizu.. I want you to touch me.”

Mizu's smirk widened as she leaned in, her fingers tracing a teasing path up your arm. "Well," she purred, "you have to be more specific than that."

Your breath caught in your throat, the anticipation thick in the air. "I want..." you stammered, struggling to form coherent words. Mizu's eyes never left yours, her confidence almost maddening.

"I want your hands on me," you finally managed to express, your voice a mix of need and frustration. Mizu's laughter echoed in the room, low and sultry.

"Such a good start," she whispered, her touch now dancing along your waist. "But you can do better. Tell me exactly where you want me to touch you."

The room seemed to shrink as you gathered your thoughts, desire and embarrassment wrestling within you. "I want your lips on mine," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with a mix of arousal and vulnerability.

Mizu's gaze intensified, a hunger evident in her eyes. "And?" she urged, her fingers lingering on the edge of your anticipation.

"Everywhere," you confessed, feeling the weight of your desire in the pit of your stomach. "I want to feel you everywhere."

Her giggle filled the room again, this time a bit softer. "Now we're getting somewhere," she murmured, closing the gap between you.

“Here?” you whine at her words, nodding. “Why are you nodding? I said to use your words.” She growled, her brows furrowing.

“I want you to touch my pussy, mizu.” you moaned out, enough to satisfy her.

“On your hands and knees,” Nimble fingers tease and twist your panties until they’re pooling around your ankles. Breath becomes heavier as she starts to kiss a pathway down the length of your back. You give in to her urges; head tipping back as her mouth glides over the plush of your behind.

Mizu kneels between your legs, sinking her teeth into your ass and moaning in unison with you. Your back arches at the feeling, presenting your cunt for her to feast.

“Pretty girl,” Mizu growls, hands palming your ass, spreading you further apart, “with the prettiest pussy, fuck-”

She delves in. Shiny tongue weaving between webbed folds. She groans, going for a second taste, a longer lick. Mizu slurps at your cunt, the loud, lewd sound causing you to shiver, top half of your body lowering against the tatami floors. The cold sends a jolt through your already perky nipples, and you squirm.

“Sweeter than sugar,” Mizu licks her lips, eyes memorising the sight of your wet cunt, puffy and pulsing for her - diving back in, her tongue and lips explore you.

Kissing your puffy clit, causing an erotic moan to leap from your swollen lips. She sucks on your aching clit, flicking the talented tip of her tongue in intricate patterns that have your thighs quivering against her flushing cheeks.

Mizu’s tongue worked its usual magic; sucking, kissing, rolling— your eyes began to water, the feeling of her inside you causing your build-up to come much faster than usual.

Indents of your teeth scatter across your hand and arm after having to bite into yourself to stay quiet. It was the crack of dawn after all. So, you continue to release muffled moans against your skin, eyes squeezing shut in concentration- but fuck Mizu knows what she’s doing with her tongue.

“Mmhm,” Mizu groans, face smushing into your cunt. Her ego swells with every, jolt of your hips as her tongue catches the perfect spot in each swirl. The way she moved had you crying like a little girl; red-faced and sobbing, begging her to let you cum. “what do you want, again?”

“Please, please mizu, please let me cum. I’ll be good, I promise.”

She’s about to make you cum faster and harder than you ever had in your life. She can sense it in the pulsing of your clit, feel it in the tremble of your legs. God, she wants to beg.

Feeling you slip over the edge and moaning into you. To catch every essence of your release, she switches to long yet fast licks up and down the length of you; from your buzzing clit, over your clenching hole.

“Mizu, fuck, oh my-” Your tied hands search for her, finding purchase grasping dark long tresses, “I’m-”

A calloused hand lands on your soft supple skin with a smack. The corner of her lips curls up into a grin when your body jolts, soft whines slipping past your lips.

“We’re done when I say we’re done or has the whore forgotten the endurance training she proposed?” The insult had your tummy flipping and cunt clenching, and of course Mizu noticed. She took no time slipping her middle finger inside you, your walls sucking her in desperately.

Leaning over your body, her perky breast mushed against your arching back as her free hand tightly pulled your hair.

“Mizu!” you squeak, clit throbbing, the roughness of her fingers rubbing against the walls of your cunt. “Please—” you whimpered, tear droplets rolling down your cheeks.

“Shut up.” She grunted out, long and slender fingers increasing their pace, pounding that spongy taste of heaven inside you, over and over again.

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 5 days

Text

Vaggie: "Charlie, babe? Can you come over here for a sec? I need help proving a point."

Charlie: "Okay!"

Charlie: (ZOOMS over)

Charlie: "I'm here." (cradling vaggie's hand tenderly) (beaming) "How can I help...?"

Vaggie: "You just did."

Angel Dust: "Fuckin' show off."

Vaggie: (at angel dust) (Smug) "Your turn."

Charlie: "? Are we playing a game??"

Vaggie: "No but it's still gonna be fun."

Angel Dust: "Shush. I'm tryin' focus here! Ah-HEM."

Angel Dust: "Ohhhhh Husky man~ Would ya come over here an' help me with somethin', mr. whiskers-"

Husk: "No."

Angel Dust: "Pweeease~?"

Husk: "Fuck off."

Vaggie: "And there we have it."

Angel Dust: "Bullshit! You're NOT more attractive than me, toots! Not even personality wise!"

Charlie: "Was that the point we're proving?"

Angel Dust: "NOTHIN'S PROVEN!"

Charlie: "Did it even need proving??? I mean, look at her."

Angel Dust: "I'm lookin'. It's a lesbian only her lover could love."

Charlie: "I DO really love her~"

Vaggie: "And I try hard every day- Angel shut up- to be a little bit worthy of that love. Case in point."

Charlie: "Wait, go back to the point about not feeling worth-"

Vaggie: "Old news babe. Hey Husk! C'mere for a moment!"

Charlie: "-she's dodging the question!"

Angel Dust: "She's bein' an annoying bitch of a friend."

Husk: (slouching over) "The fuck do you want."

Angel Dust: "Shut. UP."

Vaggie: "Nothing much. Didn't want you to miss out on Angel Dust pouting that's all."

Husk: "Yeah?"

Charlie: "Awww Vaggie, that's really thoughtful!"

Vaggie: "Just doing my lesbian duty."

Charlie: "Angel Dust is a guy though?"

Vaggie: "A gay guy. It's solidarity."

Angel Dust: "I hate you."

Husk: "Huh. Fake hating people looks good on you, looser." (smirk) "Cute pout."

Husk: (wanders off)

Angle Dust: "......."

Angel Dust: (grabbing vaggie and lifting her to eye level) "I love ya we're besties for life and if ya do this t' my heart again 'm shanking ya in the middle of the night with a shiv made from a sharpened yuri manga."

Vaggie: "And I've never wanted you more. As a friend."

Charlie: "Okay good great wonderful friendship moment everyone. Now!"

Charlie: (holding out arms)

Charlie: "I want MY girlfriend back." (pouting) "Please."

Angel Dust: "May the sapphic be with ya."

Angel Dust: (dumps vaggie in her arms)

Angel Dust: "Ohhhhh Husk....! Guess who's POUTIN' agai- Whiskers stop runnin' an' look at me!!!"

Husk: "Once was fucking enough."

Angel Dust: "Once is NEVER enough fucking with me~"

Charlie: "Wow. Husk sure can move when he wants to..."

Vaggie: "Meh, he's not even using his wings."

Charlie: "He's really not is he? Aww!"

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "...Vaggie. Is my pout cute too?"

Vaggie: "The cutest, sweetie." (smooches pout) "And most bi-utiful."

Charlie: "HEHEH."

Niffty: (from above) "I bet she'd pout even HARDER if I dropped this DEAD RAT in her hair."

Charlie: "A WHAT!?"

Niffty: "Dead rat."

Vaggie: "Don't you dare-"

Niffty: "Whee! Here we go!"

Chaggie: (running and screaming)

Angel Dust: (distantly) (shrieking) "HUSK RAT HUSK HUSK HELP RAT DEAD RAT HELP HUSK HUUUUUSK!!!!"

Husk: "-oh shit hold still DON'T FLING IT AT ME ASSHOLE-"

-EXLPOSION-

Cherri Bomb: "wHY IS THERE A RAT CORPSE IN MY BRA!?"

Niffty: "Your welcome!"

Cherri Bomb: "How! HOW IS tHERE A RAT CORPSE! IN MY BRA!!!!"

Charlie: "Cherri run just run-!"

Cherri Bomb: "Already one dead rat boob surprise too late for that!"

Niffty: "Happy pride month everyone!"

Niffty: (GIGGLING)

Niffty: "I bleached and dyed each rat corpse a different rainbow color~"

Alastor: "...Hmm?"

Alastor: (oozing out of shadows)

Alastor: "And no rat for me, my dear? No pride for poor old Alastor?"

Niffty: "For youuu? Iridescent cockroach!"

Niffty: (impales one on his antlers)

Alastor: "Oh I AM touched! ...Might I ask why the change in vermin, however?"

Niffty: "Irony!!" (CACKLES)

Alastor: (confused) (still touched) "Ah."

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #vaggie #charlie morningstar #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #niffty hazbin hotel #huskerdust #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #incorrect quotes #silly nonsense #rainbow rat corpses for all

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tac-the-unseen · 1 month

Text

Gifts the slashers would enjoy

Fluff

Minor updates for formatting

Micheal Myers:

•Arts and crafts supplies

-He's enjoyed making Paper Mache masks most of his life. It's very likely that he enjoys other forms of art as well, but couldn't express that in the ward for fear it would be taken away.

-Dr. Loomis sucks

-Giving him art supplies now, would end up in him making his art in secret. He feels embarrassed to like such a simple thing. That shame is intensified if you ask to see it. He'll end up leaving it out so you can see it without directly showing it to you

•Candy Corn, circus peanuts, and Crunch bar.

-Are they his favorite? No. But they bring back good memories, and for Michael, that's enough.

-would spend a good chunk of time snaking on the sweets while you spend time with him

-Can be bribed into a lot of shenanigans with candy

•Homemade meal

-He rarely had anyone make him dinner. His mom being a ‘working’ woman ment that he had to fend for himself come dinnertime.

-Knowing that you wanted to, and found time to make him dinner make him feel that icky (Nice), bubbly feeling in the center of his chest

-minor Headcannon: first time this happened Micheal thought he was having a heart attack.

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•Horror movie merchandise

-Their collectors. If you manage to get your hands on something they don't have, they'll give you anything you want in return.

-will trip over themselves trying to replay you

-Stu would actually kiss the ground you walk on if you ask

•Jewelry

-They both appreciate necklaces, bracelets, and RINGS

-Stu is a gold guy, Billy is a sliver guy.

-They’re like crows. Anything shiny will end up in their pockets. Imagine Stu showing off his rings like a newly proposed to woman. Fawning over the design and/or jewels.

•knives/knife sharpener

-They collect knives of different quality and look

-they better ones they use to hunt. The best ones and the weaker ones are put on display like trophies.

-No matter the quality you get, it's the fact it came from you but they care about

Thomas Hewitt:

•Flowers

-Thomas is a sucker for old ‘traditional’ romantic actions

-Seeing you hold up hand-picked flowers makes his heart gush. He thinks you look so precious, wanting to make him happy.

-sometimes he'll catch you, out of a window, picking flowers just so you can give it to him. He'll never tell you, and will always act surprised when you present the bouquet.

•Bones

-its simple and an abundant resource at the house. There's always bones somewhere, and Thomas knows how to use the bones

-They’re good for making repairs, as tools, and as decorations

-You 10000% have a bone bracelet that Thomas made for you when you guys started to get more serious

•Desserts

-Thomas won't admit it, but he has a sweet tooth. Why do you think Luda mae spends so much time baking?

-While a good pie is enough to send this man to his knees, any other baked good will do.

-He likes cherries and strawberries, but because of how expensive they are he doesn't tell anybody that it's his favorite. He doesn't want anybody ‘wasting’ money or resources on him.

Bubba Sawyer:

•Flowers

-Bubba loves flowers. Any kind of flowers is enough for him to let out squeals of happiness. He loves seeing them around the farm, and plants them around the house when he has spare time.

-So when you go to town and come back with a bouquet of flowers just for him, nearly crushed you with hugs.

-Keeps them alive for as long as possible then perseveres them in notebooks and in salt

•Quilting supplies

-Bubba is really good at handling leather. Those human skin masks are hard to make, and human leather is so incredibly delicate.

-On top of that, he is a family man. He want to make things that help his family. So he makes blankets!

-its a fine craft and perfect in enhancing his skills.

•Good old quality time

-He loves spending his time with you! If he could spend all day with you, he would.

-So sitting down and cuddling means that absolute world to him. He cherishes his time with you and it what he looks forward to everyday. It's why he wakes up in the morning. It's why he tries hard everyday. He wants to spend every day starting and ending with you!

Bo Sinclair:

•Tools

-If your in the workshop often enough, you'll know what ends replacing.

-Bo is as stubborn as stubborn comes, so he won't get new tools until they physically can't do their job anymore.

-If you get him new tools he will begrudgingly take them, but after an hour or two he'll find you just so he can thank you ‘properly’.

•Cigarettes

-The boy smokes

-Don’t know what else to tell you

-Will kiss you when you give it to him though

•Kids Toys

-Sounds weird, but having his childhood taken away from him leaves him wanting to fill up the gaps.

-when looking through a victim's car you found a two handed water ring-toss toy. when you showed Bo He just rolled his eyes and kept working on his Truck. You started playing with it when at the shop, even leaving it there on a few occasions. Every time you left it there, He would take it and sneak into the back room of the shop to play with it.

-it brought him immense joy. One day he forgot to put it back, and when you asked about it he berated you for losing your things and expecting him to keep track of your belongings. He never told you, and would rather die than admit it.

Vincent Sinclair:

•Art/craft supplies

-Its a given, really

-He very rarely get new art supplies (if you don't count corpses) so it’s nice to get replacements.

-Will take anything you give him, honestly

•Books

-Vincent isn't always making art. Sometimes art can get boring for him, or he hits a rough patch and doesn't know where to go from there.

-A book can easily help, Whether it's just something else to do or it helps him overcome his art block. He will oftentimes get up from his work space and find another spot to sit down and read.

-He loves it when you read to him. It's nice to just listen to something while you work.

•Hoodies

-with his combination of body issues and wanting to be cozy, A hoodie seems to be the best option.

-Even though it is hot in Louisiana, The cool basement and even cooler nights need a little warmth.

-loves the feeling of the softer cloth and with it being a present, makes it all the better.

Lester Sinclair:

•Lip balm

-Lester has a hard time with hygiene. No one ever really taught him how to take care of himself.

-So when you notice Lester had chapped lips and gave him some lip balm something in his brain short circuited. The fact that YOU want to help him, makes his heart swell.

-keeps it in his pocket and constantly reapplies it

•Car freshener

-Even with him blind to the smell of death, the hot Louisiana sun will intensify the foul smell 10 fold. You knew it was bad when you could smell the truck before you could see or hear it.

-You ran out of town and bought several packs of air fresheners for his truck. You told him that you do love him, just not the smell that lingers when he gets home from work. Lester doesn't want to make you gag every time he gets into bed with you.

-He likes the Strawberry, sugar cookie, and fresh linens scent best

•Dinner

-He’s not the ‘I better come home to a hot plate of dinner' kind of guy, but he really appreciates it when he does. Even though Bo is a semi-good cook, anything after years of having it will get boring.

-Having you cook for him (and most likely his brothers) is a nice change of pace.

-Will eat anything you cook. Whether it's ‘good’ or ‘bad’ he will happily eat it all.

Billy Lenz:

•Being read too

-Isn’t a physical present but he loves your voice. He wants to read but has A) a hard time focusing and B) has a hard time reading in general

-Having you read to him calms him down and gets him settled enough to sit still and/or do an activity smoothly

-Reading to him 100% makes him fall asleep in the end. And boy does this insomniac need it

•Crochet equipment

-After learning how to Crochet he can't stop. He runs through String like a mad man. He has made you 6 sweaters and increasing in quality over time

-Will give you a list of all the colors he wants and will wait patiently on your bed for you to come back.

-Gets ridiculous excited when he's given new supplies. Will be your lap dog for weeks after

•String lights

-Doesn't have to be Christmas themed, he just really likes the lights. Like a moth drawn to flames.

-likes to fall asleep with them on, it's like Billy’s own big night light.

-Has gotten too close to them and accidentally ripped them down. He tried to hide them so he didn't get in trouble, and actually cried when you found out.

Brahms Heelshire:

•Clothes

-You wondered why his clothes were so ill-fitting for a long time before you realized, that's his dad's old clothes.

-coming to that realization you manage to figure out his proper size and (after some minor fighting) when out to get him a much needed upgrade. When you came home he was waiting by the door, waiting for you. Giving him his new clothes was like telling him you would never leave again, he was ecstatic. He ripped the bags out of your arms and ran into his room so he could try them on

-He fell in love with the sweaters you got him, with a nice couple pairs of khakis. It wasn't much of a transition from his old clothes but that's just what he likes.

•Movies/Movie night

-The only movies he's seen are from his childhood, and he can barely remember them. His parents didn't think movies were healthy for a growing boy, so they only allowed him books to pass the time

-When you proposed a movie night he had a couple questions and even a bit of hesitation. “What if they melt my brain?” He asked with genuine concern. After you posed another question back “Why wouldn't they have melted my brain yet?” Did he trust you.

-You started with childhood classics before getting into the more ‘adult’ stuff. He loved every minute of it

•Picnics

-While Brahms isn't a fan of going outside, the garden is the only exception. You wanted him to go outside because orange juice can only do so much for a vitamin D deficiency.

-He said the only way he would go outside was if you had a Picnic and put his sunscreen on. Making sandwiches with chips and then lathering him in 80 SPF he went outside in a tank top layered with a crocheted vest and shorts, had him outside fairly quickly

-Now he wants a picnic every summer

Hannibal Lecter:

•Wine

-After dating for a while you started to notice where Hannibal got his expensive foods and wines

-you also noticed what he actually liked and what he was just experimenting with. While fruity and floral flavors were always favored, herbs and Nutty wines were much lower on his list.

-With that in mind you got a Cherry lavender wine from Greece. When you gave it to him he was actually shocked you were paying attention to his preferences. He told you most people just buy cheap wine and expect him not to notice.

-The wine you picked out now has a permit spot saved on his wine shelf.

•Paper bouquet

-Paper made into the shape of different flowers all wrapped up in another paper tying it all together. It's cute, classy (though he would never display it openly), and will never wilt!

-He had told you about the complexity of life using flowers as an example and how they wilt. So you decided to make flowers that can't wilt to not only sass him but to give him something

-He put them in a paper vase he made (in only what you can assume was) in his free time.

•Friendship bracelets

-What was originally a gag gift turned out to be one of his favorite gifts.

-You thought there was no way in hell THE Hannibal Lecter would wear cheap bright string woven together, but you were wrong.

-You had made some friendship bracelets out of old string you found in some old stuffed away box and laughed at the idea of Hannibal finding it in his desk drawer. So you did just that, just to come to the shocking realization that during a meeting with the F.B.I he was wearing it, hidden under his sleeve. You had a very hard time containing your laughter that night.

Will Graham:

•Quality time with you!

-Life has always been stressful for Will. So some alone time with you is always a great gift.

-No need for fancy dinners, events, or holidays. Just sitting down to watch whatever pops up on the T.V screen is enough for him.

-Bonus points if the pack joins in for a cuddle session!

•Handwritten letter(s)

-Having a man with a different then most emotional attachment style is hard. Will might not always what to be physically touched or poked at. Sometimes he doesn't even want to talk (Common coping mechanism for Autistic people)!

-But even when he gets like this, it's still nice to get some reassurance. You started writing him little notes around the house a while ago and slowly you noticed Will’s mood improving significantly.

-He found it very sweet that you were taking the time to meet him on a level he was comfortable with. The two of you don't speak about it often but the notes persist.

•New fishing gear

-anything fishing related is always an appreciated

-New lears, poles, vests, hooks, bait even. Anything even if he already has it, he will take it happily

-He’ll take you fishing with his new gear you got him and will happily teach you if you don't know how to fish

The Lost Boys:

•Jewelry

-All four vamps love jewelry of any kind

-All of them have earrings, bracelets, and necklaces so why not give them Something they can say they got from their S/O!

-David and Marko prefer bracelets, David’s gloves wouldn't mesh well with rings, and he thinks a necklace might make him seem less intimidating. Marko would chew on a necklace and worse could get caught during a fight. Rings would be damaged either due to said fighting and/or his painting. Bracelets are that perfect in-between!

-Dwayne and Paul like Rings for different reasons. For Dwayne Rings have that ‘marriage’ aspect to them. Not to say rings mean marriage, but historically speaking…it's like putting your claim on him and he's thriving for that.

-Paul likes rings to fidget with. He already has rings he uses as ways to occupy his hands when something or someone isn't. Will 100% show off his ring you gave him to the others.

•Gift boxes

-The boxes full of pictures, candy, and other meaningful things

-They all go feral over those boxes, especially the first ever box. It was filled with your own little doodles, candy you know they like, mini bottles of whiskey, and a note telling them about how much you care about them and where to meet you for the night.

-if you plan to do this more often make sure each boy gets to keep something or they WILL fight over it.

•ScrapBooks

-Memories bunch up and fade when you're a vampire. They can't always remember the little things, so having a book of all those memories they can look back at is great idea!

-You even found a creative way to include them in pictures! They can't be seen in photos, but they're shadows can! You take pictures under street lamps and make silly poses. You have a picture of Paul dramatically falling into Marko's arms while Dwayne and David kiss either side of your face.

-All those silly pictures combined with your and Marko’s creativity ends up in some fun, colorful, memories

Thanks for reading <3

(You know I write a fuck ton when It started glitching out. Like it would freeze while I was formatting it correctly 😭)

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yourdoorisunlocked · 26 days

Text

The Altruist Family Children - Headcanons

𝐀/𝐍: Some headcanons about Alastor x Reader's children in my AU <33

🎙️ Rowan and Louise are darling twins of the Altruist Family, your own little bundles of joy that grew up to wreak havoc across the neighborhood. Absolute sweethearts.

🎙️ They both look strikingly similar to their father, with deep gray skin, cherry red hair and gleaming yellow teeth, sharpened to the point, but their hair ends in tangles and curls, much like Alastor's when he was alive.

🎙️ Lousie is Alastor's little princess, of course, and he just adores doting on the little girl. Purchasing her whatever her little heart desires, whether it be trinkets and toys, her favorite desserts, frilly dresses and laced skirts – he'd spoil her absolutely rotten.

🎙️ Rowan, on the other hand, was quite the anomaly, at first. Raising a boy – as a father – were uncharted waters that Alastor wasn’t all too keen to tread, at first.

🎙️ Truly, Alastor was just little bit nervous apprehensive when he learnt that you would be having a boy, since his own experience with his father was rather... unsavory, to say the least. But when you sat him down, giving him all the faith and reassurance a man could ever need, well... how could he say no to his darling wife?

🎙️ And so, Alastor resolves to raise Rowan as his dear mother, bless her heart, raised him to be – a gentleman. The first time Rowan opened the front door for you was the only time Alastor allowed a camera inside the house, or anywhere near his children.

🎙️ When your sweet little boy finally came of age – at a ripe eight years old – your husband took him out hunting. As much as you wanted to suggest that he wait a few more years, the giddy excitement Alastor exuded while polishing his favorite rifle, preparing for a full weekend of spending time with his son, was just too endearing for you to say no to him.

🎙️ So, every weekend, Rowan and his father would disappear for a few hours, only to return at near twilight lugging some sort of Hellbeast behind them, and their prey only grew in size each year. And by the time Rowan turned thirteen, it wasn’t just wild game that he and Alastor were hunting.

🎙️ You cut their hair. No questions asked.

🎙️While Louise refuses to get down into the mud and dirt with her brother and father, she adores gardening and growing her own flowers, and has a collection of books on poisons and toxic plants. You humored her fascination with toxicology and allowed her to grow a collection of poisonous flowers, so long as she kept them far away from the kitchen.

🎙️ Family dinner nights are a given, especially when Alastor does the cooking. There'll be a jazzy swing number playing in the background, while Louise helps her father prep for the meal, and you'll be laughing and dancing with Rowan in the living room.

🎙️ Sometimes, whenever the children play with you, Alastor would lurk just around the corner, watching you with such softness in his eyes, before they drift down to your stomach. You were so good with them, perhaps you'd grace him with another?

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: AHHH I'M KICKING MY FEET RN- THESE TURNED OUT SO CUTE AND I LOVE ROWAN AND LOUISE!!

This turned out to be so long 😭 I just have so many ideas for this AU, I can't wait to release the oneshot

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp

@maggotzdilemma, @cassidywinters

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor imagines

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cambion-companion · 6 months

Text

Inferna Victoria

Dining with the devil and having to answer for your breaking and entering...and sleeping with his personal incubus.

This was fun to write, most likely will follow it up with a part 2! But I needed to get this out of my system.

PLUS their banter is SO fun to write. I just love the way Raphael speaks.

Raphael x Reader | Victory dinner that was promised but we never got | OH he KNOWS about the Haarlep incident | light smut towards the end

“What an unexpected pleasure.”

You turned, the heels of your shoes sliding easily on the dark marble. Your nose almost brushed against his, the scent of musk and cherries causing your head to spin for a moment before you could regather your senses. From the tone of his greeting, there was nothing “unexpected” about your visit.

You raised a coy brow. “Do most devils not have a sense of personal space?”

Raphael didn’t return your smirk. His usually playful expression had become sharp almost tense. Warm whiskey eyes drank in your features, your face turned up as he towered over you, your chests almost touching.

When next he spoke, his lilting cadence had deepened into something akin to primal. A dark timbre sweetened by a fondness the cambion only seemed to harbor for you.

“You have served your purpose to the letter of our contract. Why are you here?”

So enraptured were you by his hypnotic gaze you didn’t initially feel his hands skimming up the outside of your arms, tracing the curve of your body as they moved down to your hips.

Playful words spilled unbidden from your eager mouth. “You promised me a dinner.” Your breath caught in your throat, taken aback by his soft touch before his fingers sharpened their grip on your soft flesh. “I came quite ready to partake.”

“So I gathered.” Your ill-disguised flirtations clearly pleased Raphael. With one hand remaining low at your waist, he guided you into the dining hall. His heavy gaze continued to burn into you, try as you might to act oblivious. You could practically feel the trails his eyes were scorching into every facet of your visage. “Always such an eager little thing. An excellent client and an even better co-conspirator.”

You snorted a laugh, watching him as he sank down languidly against a rather gaudy mahogany chair and stretched his long limbs, placing one booted foot atop the table. “You are pleased with my success, I take it?”

“I cannot sing your praises enough.” Now Raphael smiled, easing the unexplained tension between you two as he picked idly at his nails. “The souls I tend to in my dungeon especially are regaled by the tale of your saving a world they can never return to.”

“Prolonging their suffering?” You rolled your eyes, expecting nothing less, never forgetting his true nature. “How appropriate.”

“Enhancing.” Raphael corrected, his foot shifting off the table as he rose to his feet and met your gaze squarely. “You are more familiar with me than most who enter my home, little hero.” The endearment rang with irony. “I am glad you came. However uninvited. Which…” He tapped long fingers against polished wood, his smile gaining an edge. “Brings up a breach of contract I’ve wished to address after you won me the crown.”

You felt a pit open in your stomach, knowing very well what Raphael was referring to. You opened your mouth to quickly defend yourself, but he interrupted, gesturing to the large table. “Sit.”

As you obeyed, sitting upon a plush seat and tensing as Raphael circled behind. His large hands gripped the back of your chair, and you felt the stirrings of your hair beneath his breath. “If you wished me to entertain you in my Boudoir, you had but to ask nicely.”

“I…” You had no excuse. “I apologize.”

“A sweet sentiment, but I do not accept it.” Raphael’s presence shifted and he walked slowly to the grant mahogany seat opposite yours, taking a moment to look down upon you before he sat.

“Enlighten me as to the innerworkings of your mind.” Raphael continued speaking slowly, his elegant brow arching imperiously. “What gives a small speck of a mortal the right to enter the home of a devil uninvited?” He leaned forward, observing your silence with an air of condemnation. “Speak, ere I exact penance and take your leaden tongue for insolence.”

Your heart stuttered, this was not how you expected your victory dinner to go. “Gale was quite insistent we find a way into your home to, uh, destroy our contract.”

“Here I thought wizards had a modicum of intelligence.” Raphael didn’t look pleased, nor did he appear as livid as you expected. He leaned back and gestured for you to continue.

“Upon entry, your house was a mess by the way, I had second thoughts. Betraying your trust would pitch me into inevitable conflict with you…and I don’t want that.”

“Do go on.” Raphael wore a smirk, halfway between mocking and amused. “You are at the cusp of this story’s climax.”

You felt the heat of the room intensify as your face flushed. “Yes, well…upon gaining entry to your room, your Boudoir, I met someone who gave me very little choice to walk away freely without giving something of myself first.”

“Thus, like a good mouse you wriggled and squeaked atop my bed before turning tail and running back to your little hole.” Raphael finished and nodded, seeming satisfied.

“I didn’t take anything…or disturb anything.” You defended yourself.

“You took pleasure from my incubus.” Like the changing tides, Raphael’s mood darkened yet again. He raised a finger and tilted his head. “Yet, you left something behind that balances the scales somewhat.”

“I’m not sure it balances the scales. They still seem quite tipped against my favor.” You said, a little testily.

Raphael smiled shrewdly in response, his gaze drifting over your form. “I returned to my home to find Haarlep in your form, lounging naked in my pool.”

“Ah.”

“Indeed.”

You wracked your brains, trying to remember if you’d felt anything like the sensual tingle Haarlep had hinted at when he made love in your form. You hadn’t felt it yet…which meant Raphael hadn’t taken advantage of Haarlep’s conquest. Yet.

“I am ever the gentleman.” Raphael’s honeyed voice dripped irony, seeming to read your thoughts. “And in that vein, I indeed promised you a dinner to celebrate our victory.”

You rallied quickly, tucking into the food with the eagerness of one who is famished. “Speaking of veins, wait until you hear what happened with Astarion.”

Raphael listened, intent and focused as he always was whenever you spoke with him. The topic of your exchange with Haarlep seemed momentarily shelved, though you knew there was no chance of it being forgotten.

Raphael chortled in his familiar way, close-mouthed and smug, as you finished regaling him with the latest events. “What a quaint image. You revel at last in the success of your intrepid adventures, some more fruitful than others.”

“I’m satisfied.” You took another small bite of the roasted meat and sipped the wine.

Raphael peered at you, evidently not interested in eating. “Truly? How unlike you.”

“You presume to know me?”

“Better than most.” Raphael answered, that damnable smile back on his face. “To illustrate this fact…Haarlep, join us.”

Slinking out from the shadows of a marble column walked Haarlep, you felt a jolt of dread at seeing the incubus wearing your naked form brazenly. Haarlep caught your eye, smiled widely, and did a little twirl to show off all your assets.

You sank down into your chair, mortified.

“Come.” Raphael beckoned for Haarlep to straddle his lap and the incubus hopped merrily aboard.

“I can feel our little hero’s lust from here.” Haarlep purred, taking Raphael’s ear between their teeth as they looked at you through your own eyes. “Delicious, and oh so familiar.” Haarlep maintained teasing eye contact with you as their hands drifted down, giving you a torturous show.

You saw Raphael’s movements, saw Haarlep throw their head back in exaggerated pleasure, Raphael’s teeth scraping across the exposed throat that should be yours.

“I was in the middle of quite serious negotiations, pet, when you decided to take advantage of my body.” Raphael gripped the soft flesh of Haarlep’s bottom, and you felt the corresponding touch echo ghostlike across your own skin. “I experienced everything.”

A rush of heated arousal awakened in the pit of your stomach; you squeezed your thighs together. Raphael’s eyes were drawn to the movement. He smiled. “Yes, I was quite aware, though I could only guess as to who soiled my bed. It was irksome, a distraction from my business.”

Raphael slowly turned more of his attention to Haarlep and left you feeling frustrated and cold. You felt only a hint, not nearly enough to gain release, and you didn’t dare touch yourself.

Haarlep cooed and giggled in your voice, your ears burned to hear such lewd sounds.

Only when Haarlep began riding Raphael in earnest did your resolve finally break. “Raphael, please.”

Large hands gripped Haarlep’s hips and stilled their movement. “Please what, pet?”

Your pride stilled your tongue. Raphael chuckled and groaned as Haarlep resumed their bouncing movements. “Such a lovely, supple thing you are.”

“Surely, you don’t want simply a cheap imitation of me.” You were becoming desperate, and keenly aware he could read right through you.

Haarlep let loose with a particularly loud moan and then placed their fingers to their lips, grinning wickedly at you.

Raphael’s hips began moving in rhythm, his breathing audible. “I could turn the same petulant quip…” He took a deep breath. “…back to you, my dear.”

Damn him.

“I want you. That’s why I came to your house. I want you, the real you.”

Raphael stilled Haarlep, using his hands to quell their eager movements. The incubus looked momentarily taken aback, giving Raphael a pout you hoped to never see again upon your face.

Raphael paid them no mind, his hooded gaze finally finding yours. He sat in silence for a long moment then rose to his feet, easily displacing the incubus.

Raphael extended a hand.

“Come to me then.”

#raphael #bg3 #smut #fanfic #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #raphael fanfic #haarlep

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amberswords · 2 years

Text

A little fun exercise on “can I draw people semi-realistically from memory?”! It was very fun!

Close-ups under the cut.

#🗡 eddie #eddie draws #sharpened cherries #starry swords #jotaro kujo #jjba oc #jjba #noriaki kakyoin #art #genderbend #genderswap #jjba si #self insert

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jilixthinker · 4 months

Text

blackholes

=͟͟͞♡ jisung × fem!reader

=͟͟͞♡ parallel universes au

word count: 7.4K

synopsis: you can delude yourself and wait for the paint to dry and take away the evil. but the only truth, unique and unchanging, is that pain only creates more pain. you can close your eyes and believe otherwise, imagine another ending. but when you wake up, jisung is still sick and his illness is eating him from the inside.

content warning: explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), angst, depression, mention of suicide, drinking and smoking, sufference, eventual happy ending (?)

=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!

A drop of crimson red paint is tapping on the ground at a regular rhythm. At first glance, to someone who is not trained to know how to observe, it might even look like blood. The fingertips from which the paint is dripping off are moving slowly over the paper, searching for the weak spot on the canvas. There is always one, where the fabric gives in and the color soaks deeper. The fingers probe its full extent until a small smile of intimate satisfaction appears in your face.

The breaking point is within the body portrayed on the canvas, right in the center of his forehead. It sparkles a little like an Indian diamond, and you dip the tip of your brush in the red paint that previously soiled your fingers. At the bottom corner to the right, near the tapered shape of the feet you have just finished painting, you trace a few words.

pain creates love.

The young man on the canvas is dazzlingly beautiful. His eyes are night onyx, deep as lagoons. His lips are the color of ripe cherries, swollen and tumid. He is portrayed nude, legs spread wide and arms outstretched toward the viewer. He exudes eroticism from every angle, yet he is far from vulgar. A few strands of inky hair hide the pale, flushed skin on his cheekbones. Slender, elegant fingers are stretched out to their full length as if to grasp the air. There is no background. The only foreign element to that body is the canopy on which the boy is slumped. The draped sheets caress his figure enhancing his nakedness without covering it. The only dissonant note in that marvelous sensual work, the only weak point, is the too-hinted blush on his forehead. It's almost not noticeable if you lose yourself in the full beauty of the portrait, but you see it, because you painted it and because it's part of the canvas, part of the subject. And it is singular, as him.

"It's a masterpiece".

The voice is off-screen, as if it's coming from another world. You don't turn to check who it belongs to, but you keep staring at your painting. The sound of small footsteps unravels in the air of the room. The parquet floor creaks at every inch.

"I am not fully satisfied with it".

You run the back of your hand over the fabric, as if the epidermis could erase the color and replace it with a different image. The voice approaches you from behind and blows a crystalline laugh as his shadow reflects off the picture, obscuring the white of the canopy.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. What's wrong with it?"

As you move your gaze from the painting to turn around, the exact copy of the boy portrayed on the canvas stands out in all his glory in front of you. His shower-wet hair frames his ephebic features like a wreath, and a tiny smile illuminates his face in a cascade of light.

"It's not like the original".

The boy shakes his head and time freezes. A few drops of water land on your neck.

"It doesn't have to be".

Sharpened fingers curl around the closed collar of your shirt and begin to loosen it. Button by button, the fabric slips off your figure and the young man in front of you kneels down to slip off your shirt and deposit hundreds of tiny kisses on your hands. When he stands up again, he approaches your body and touches it, appreciating every inch of it and covering it with attention. You lift you face and bite his cheek, losing yourself in the soothing smell of Sunday sex.

Pain creates love, you are quite certain of it. Loving someone who suffers means loving every single portion of their pain and making it your own. It is not easy to desire something so abstract, but there are people who try, with soul, body, bones and sweat. Some succeed, some fail, and some keep trying. You cannot identify yourself in any of these categories. You only knows that you love, unconditionally, without a specific goal. You love so much that the pain is now only the frame to a picture of yours, you love so much that the Indian diamond on the boy's forehead becomes almost invisible to your eyes. Almost.

You can delude yourself and wait for the paint to dry and take away the evil. But the only truth, unique and unchanging, is that pain only creates more pain. You can close your eyes and believe otherwise, imagine another ending. But when you wake up, Jisung is still sick and his illness is eating him from the inside.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You meet Jisung in the twilight of his nineteen years, when he is just a little lump of insecurity and imagination. He clutches a vanilla coffee in his left hand and a briefcase in his right, crammed with story incipits that he will never finish. He dropped out of school to become one of those freelance writers you see on the covers of magazines for intellectuals, the ones who live in unpronounceable French towns and smoke mint cigarettes while sipping aged cognacs. It must not be bad, he thinks, to be envied while basking in your self admiration.

When Jisung sees you, he is leaving creative writing school, and you are leaving art school. You have a white palette under your arm, open apron smeared with oil paints, and nose sniffing the air. In fact, Jisung doesn't really have time to see you, because fate plans to make him trip over you, causing his vanilla coffee to spill all over your pants.

With his face on fire and the excuse of dry cleaning to repay for the damage, you two get acquainted. Jisung discovers that you smoke mint cigarettes, like French writers. No cognac though, you say. You prefer gin. It goes down faster and helps me come up with new ideas for painting.

Jisung asks to see one of your works, but your condition is of him posing as a model for your next portrait assignment, because you had been looking for a face like his for months. Jisung lets you beg for a while, but then he capitulates in front of another coffee.

You live alone in a loft on the fifth floor of a suburban building. The apartment is a hellish mess and it almost looks as if a tornado has swept through the living room, bathroom and kitchen, mixing the different furnishings together. You invite Jisung to sit wherever he wants, assuming he can find a seat.

You silently eat two bowls of instant ramen and then dangle awkwardly in front of each other, thinking about what to say. After a few minutes Jisung breaks the silence and asks you to see your portraits. You dig through the easels piled against the wall before handing him a few palettes.

The portraits are not refined. In fact, that's the reason you are going to art school. You cannot seem to maintain proper proportions between the various body parts you draw. In the first painting you show Jisung, the woman's hands on the canvas are too big and stubby, in the second the eyes are exaggeratedly spaced apart, and in the third the legs are so crooked that they almost seem to belong to two different people. In spite of everything, Jisung fails to give those mistakes the connotation of flaws, because there is something that compels him to stay looking at them without speaking.

While Jisung stares absently at the portraits, you flip through the half-told stories you found in his briefcase and reads fragments of disconnected sentences with a lazy smile on your lips. Jisung reflects for the time of three cigarettes before looking at you and stating that he is ready to be drawn.

When you get up to gather your brushes and paints, out of the corner of your eyes you see the boy becoming pale and widening his eyes. A split second later, the canvas slips from Jisung's hands, crashing to the floor with a reverberating noise.

You don't have time to process what happened because Jisung runs quickly toward the exit, almost crashing against the walls. He runs down the stairs as fast as he can, tripping over his feet, hitting the steps with each step and leaving you, alone in your apartment, one hand extended toward the door, clutching the rarefied air.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

"You remind me of someone I've seen before".

The second time you and Jisung met, he has the time to hide behind an alley, because it's easier not to be asked questions if you have something to hide. In this case, you happen to turn on that very alley and you find yourself in front of Jisung, curled in a quivering ball of shame. After assuring him more than once that you don't care if he broke the canvas and ruined the portrait, you convince him to have another cup of coffee together because you will never find a face like his for your painting.

You drink unsweetened black espresso, steaming hot to the limits of what is possible to drink. Jisung looks at you with an horrified look as he opens the third sugar packet and melts the grains inside his vanilla drink.

"Who?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure. Your hands".

Jisung glows and hides his flushed face behind his coffee.

"What's wrong with my hands?"

"They are vaguely erotic".

You lazily runs your fingers over Jisung's manicured nails.

"Thank you?"

"I'd like to paint those too. If you want to. You must promise not to run away and leave me alone like an idiot though".

Jisung stares out the coffee shop window and counts the drops that go condensed in the corners of the glass, Your voice is just a shade in the picture in front of him.

"Mh".

"Can I read something you wrote?"

"Didn't you already do that at your house a few weeks ago?"

"Jisung, come on, I want to read something serious".

"I'll pretend I didn't hear".

You smile andd curl your lips around your glass.

"You don't tell me that's all you wrote?"

"No. Of course not".

"Thank God. Those stories were really cheap".

You barely have time to shield your face behind your arms before Jisung's indigned look - along with his fists - dumps a shower of insults on you. It takes him a few minutes before he realizes that, hey I was just kidding, and he stops swearing.

You stand outside of the coffee shop shortly afterward, huddling under a horrible slime colored umbrella. You shove a mint cigarette between your lips and ask Jisung if he wants to try.

Jisung spends the next half hour coughing and cursing in all the languages of the world.

"You're not really suited to be a writer".

Jisung kicks you lightly and chuckles half offended as he watches you prance around on one foot yowling like a wounded puppy. Then you pull him by the hood of his jacket and smother your last words over his mouth. His comment on the kiss is anything but an insult. Jisung bites his lips and thinks that maybe you are right.

He doesn't tell you, though.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

"What happened the first time at my house?"

"What are you talking about? "

"The painting".

"I thought we had already talked about that".

"Indeed. I'm not interested in the painting itself".

"It slipped from my hands".

Jisung looks down and you don't believe him for a second. You finish brushing the bluish sky and wipe your hands on the apron. You watch the canvas, but it's useless. You weren't able to paint decently for months.

"It doesn't matter. I couldn't paint anything anyway".

Jisung barely nods and closes his eyes. He squeezes his thighs together and rocks in his chair, absorbing the faint winter rays of light on his skin.

"Do blind people dream?"

You watch Jisung tensing his back like a cat and stretching slowly, making his spine creak.

"It depends. If they are blind from birth maybe they only dream of sounds".

Jisung opens his eye and observes you, illuminated by the light. He looks almost like a beam of the whitest sun, his hair is tousled and his lips chapped by the wind.

"What do you think is worse, being born without sight or losing it over time?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"I don't know".

You twist your mouth because Jisung tells that he doesn't know to a lot of things and you can never figure out if it's because he doesn't want to answer or because he really doesn't know. You pretend to be mad at it, but the facade doesn't even last two seconds. Jisung is like that anyway. You love his everything or you don't love anything at all.

"I think it's worse to never have the chance to see colors, or the sun".

He gets up from the stool and sits in your lap, staring at an indefinite spot on your face. You stand still for several minutes without speaking, then Jisung rubs his forehead against your cheek.

"If I couldn't see, what would you do?"

"I'd be painting with words".

Jisung kisses you and you end up flying outside the universe, navigating purple galaxies in the space constellation, running through the Milky Way and on a bridge leading to the end of the world.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

"I don't feel like playing anymore".

Jisung, sitting on the wooden chair, looks at the window in an absorbed manner. He crosses his ankles and wrinkles his nose as if to chase away an annoying thought.

"I am bored. I've been sitting in this position for almost two hours".

You let out a soft grunt as you pick up a multitude of dried up tubes of paint from a ceramic jar.

"You are just being bratty", you comment, resting the brush on the coffee table and rubbing your hands against each other to scrape off the remnants of color on your nails.

"What do you feel like doing?" you ask as you look up at him.

Jisung smiles and gets up from his small chair by sliding down part of the sheet that covered his hips.

"You are dirty", he says, beginning to absentmindedly touch his lower lip with his fingers.

"I will take a shower after this".

Jisung shakes his head slowly. He moistens his index and middle fingers with his pink tongue, sticking out of his mouth.

"I don't think so".

Another handful of small steps and he is in front of you, already crushed against the bones of you pelvis. With his hands he brings your neck close to his face and licks the skin exposed by your shirt, from your ear down to the collarbones. There he stops and sucks just enough to leave you with a red bruise.

"I'll clean you up", he moans, biting the patch of skin at the nape of your neck, near your hairline.

You scramble to the kitchen chair, pushed by Jisung's hands that are slipping off your shirt, and it's pointless to tell him that I can't be dirty there because he is wetting a path of bare skin down to your belly button. He sticks his tongue out and he swirls it slowly inside of it, then continues on the dimples above your hip bone.

You feel your leg muscles contracting and you clasp your hands around Jisung's shoulders, pushing him down and allowing him to curl up on the floor, a hungry expression on his face.

Jisung spreads his legs and you let your head loll against the wall behind you as he bites your skin and removes your pants. You feel a tender, raspy tongue lazily sucking on the inside of your thighs and nibbling at them slowly. His fingers cup your already sopping cunt and start moving, circling your entrance and smearing the slick on the skin around it.

Jisung's mouth is searing and his black eyes bottomless. His saliva seethes on your flesh as you tense your legs with tiny spasms each time you feel him biting closer and closer to your aching pussy. Maybe he is sucking away something else, buried deeper somewhere inside you as well, but you have no strength to think about it when Jisung finally makes up his mind and sucks your clit in between his lips.

You hold your breath and all of your blood drains from your brain to focus lower, warming where the other's mouth failed. The wet sound is obscenely filthy as his lips slide up and down along your drenching pussy, lapping at the thin, swollen skin of your lips.

Jisung alternates between spitting dribbles of saliva on your cunt and sliding his fingers inside of you, massaging your aching walls for a long time. When he harshly sucks your clit inside his mouth, he lets out a satisfied meow and closes his eyes, completely enraptured by his own ego, fulfilled while listening to your moans. His fingers grab the tender flesh of your butt and he sinks his nose into your cunt, sucking as vigorously as possible on your puffy clit.

When he feels the walls of your pussy contract around his fingers, he starts to thrust them slowly and takes his time to give kitten licks at your hardened nub, sucking only the tip of it with undulating motions.

You squint your eyes, press your hands on the back of Jisung's neck and you finally cum with a dull gasp. Jisung presses his thumb against his own lips, smearing your release on them. He stares at you with vicious eyes and swallows slowly, wiping his crimson lips with his fingertips.

"You are clean now".

You kiss him, biting hard on his lips and licking his chin and cheeks to remove all of the traces of your slick from his face. When you inhale the smell of his skin, you thank whoever is above or below for allowing you to possess him.

"You are my masterpiece".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The spring of Jisung's twentieth year has the dull, bland taste of rain. It rains all the time, every day. Flowers fail to sprout and the few that succeed, eventually rot.

Jisung began to smoke, even though he gave up on his writing career. It wasn't really suitable, all things considered. He smokes your mint cigarettes and lets the fresh flavor fill his mouth before blowing away the residue. When he looks out from behind the window glass at the water drops tapping on the puddles, he sighs sadly.

You are splayed on the sofa with your legs curled on the floor. You snort, and your voice is hoarse as if you had just woken up.

"Would you like some tea?".

"Uh".

Jisung throws the cigarette in a jar filled with soil. He clicks his tongue against his palate and heads to the kitchen to boil tap water in the pot. He looks for the fruit tea filters behind the pantry doors when he stops all of a sudden, feeling the flesh under his skin instantly freezing. He tries to focus on something, anything. He stares at the wall, he opens his lips and, instead of a cry, what comes out is a whisper.

"Baby".

Jisung trembles and stretches a hand out in front of him. His eyes water and overflow like rain. He squeezes the air with his fingers and his veins swell on his wrists, pulsing his blood down.

"Baby", he slurs again.

You lift your head from the back of the sofa and look at your boyfriend's shoulders hunched forward.

"What's the matter?"

Jisung crinkles his eyes even more and doesn't hold back a tear that lines his cheeks and wrinkles his round chin. He squints, and thousands shades of colors disappear. His muscles relax involuntarily, and he hears the sound of shattering shards as if his brain had detached from his own skullcap to navigate inside of the the cerebral fluid.

"Baby, where am I?"

You sprint to your feet at lightning speed and you hold up Jisung before he can crash to the floor. His head, as an unconditional reflex, lunges forward and slams back against your forehead.

"Where are you?"

Jisung thrashes against your chest and continues to shake with convulsive spasms. He grits his teeth and tries to slip out of your tight embrace.

I love you say I love you and you see me I see you tell me.

"I am here. I am behind you. I won't leave you", you try to soothe him.

He turns around in deluded strength and fumbles with his fingers in search of you face. He taps lips, eyes, hair, cheekbones, squeezes knuckles and bites his own tongue.

"I don't see you".

Jisung's voice trembles. He opens his mouth two or three times, but his words dry up like a desert. A breath of wind, and he speaks feebly.

"I see nothing".

no no no no no no no

"The painting too. I couldn't see it anymore. It didn't slipped from my hands".

Jisung is gushing like a raging river and in a split second he becomes aware of herself, of you, of everything floating in his mind.

"It wasn't there".

say I'm there and you see me because I'm here and I won't leave you say that-.

"It was just a black hole".

please

"I lied to you".

I don't want to

"I never told you how my mother died".

"Jisung".

"No. You have to listen to me".

You feel your throat burning as if someone was smoking inside your stomach. You can feel the aftertaste of ash in the mouth of your esophagus and you try to swallow. But nothing goes down.

"Do you know what glaucoma is?"

"I don't think I want to know".

"It's a disease that affects eyesight. Your eyes accumulate water until the internal pressure is too much. You can't feel pain. That's why it is diagnosed too late. It's like your eyes are drowning in tears".

You die a little with each word, as if Jisung is spewing ink, and you are an inkwell collecting phantom waste.

"She couldn't stand the idea of not being able to see anymore".

"You could not have-"

"I have it".

You feel like falling. You stumble and fall. You fall for an endless time, and you fall into a dark well. You don't touch the bottom and keep falling into the cold. You try to scream but that requires oxygen, and your lungs contract, spitting out carbon dioxide because there is no more oxygen in you. So you cling to the walls, crawl your fingers and flay you skin. A cry rumbles out, but the voice is not yours.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The first time you make love, Jisung feels broken. Not in the external sense of the act itself. He feels broken in a deeper place, where you cannot touch and where he didn't even know he could feel something. This is the reason why, in the middle of the intercourse, he starts crying and wets the sheets with salty tears. He cries so quietly that you don't even realize it.

"Paint me".

"What?"

Jisung rolls up between the covers and straddles you.

"I wish you would paint all the colors of the world on me".

He moans and rubs his nose against the protruding bones of your neck. Tears dry on the skin of his cheeks. When you taste the salt on your tongue, you softly bite his chin.

"Paint is bad for your skin, you know that?".

Jisung bursts out laughing, and you laugh too in response.

"I know, but I would like a sun on my stomach. Or on my back".

You clasp Jisung's hips in your hands, anchoring him to your waist.

"You are bright already".

"And a meadow, too, all over my arms. And light, everywhere. Beams of light all over my face. I want to shine in the night".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

"You'll be there right? After".

"Where?"

"On the other side".

You slide the brush over Jisung's shoulders, lying on the floor with goose bumps caused from the cold tiles.

"Don't move".

There are empty liquor bottles scattered on the floor, with a bittersweet smell lingering in the room and permeating the walls. No light. Many unlit cigarette everywhere, a few blood stains - or perhaps paint - on Jisung's feet. You keep painting without seeing where you are passing the brush.

"I will follow you everywhere, if I can".

"You know that it won't be possible for you".

"I know".

You kiss the colors on his skin and Jisung tastes like sweat and burnt wood.

"But maybe it's better this way".

Jisung reaches out his arm and tentatively finds the neck of a bottle, brings it to his lips and drinks the clear liquid, letting a few drops slide down his chin to his nodular neck. Jisung picks up the alcohol with his fingertips and brings it to his eyes, pressing a little. It stings at first, but then he begins to see stars in front of him, so close he thinks he can gather them in the palm of his hand.

"Do you want me to open the window?" you ask.

Jisung shakes his head and pushes you against him, causing the brushes to fall from your hands. He clings to your back and pet your hair, smelling it and tasting it with his tongue.

"Did you take your medicine?"

Jisung shakes his head and searches for cigarettes inside his pants. He manages to find one and places it between your lips.

"It won't be so bad".

You inhale the smoke and blow it out somewhere in the darkness of the room. You rest your lips on Jisung's without kissing him, the dry taste of tobacco invades his throat and he smiles with the corners of his mouth.

"I have to take you to the sea, near the cliffs. I can paint the waves on your cheeks. We can even jump from very high if you want. Or you can sleep on the sand and taste the water".

Jisung pulls the smoking stick from your fingers and takes a wide puff of smoke, holding it inside himself as much as possible, then pulls you against him and opens his mouth, breathing into you.

"It will be fine, Jisung".

Jisung laughs and feels his throat tighten in a thorny grip. He gasps and pushes the lit cigarette on the back of his hand. He grits his teeth.

"How come I'm not sure?"

You take his lips in between your fingers and squeeze them until they open wide, then you move closer and whisper everything to him. You whisper the world and the universe.

you are light you are white and red you are scarlet you are perfect you are alive alive alive you are not the rain because it keeps raining and I will always wait for you on the other side always because you are alive and you are here it will be okay

And it should be okay, it should be right. Jisung would have kissed you and said it's true, it's always okay when you're here. But no, he pushes you on the chest and shrugs, his eyes blazing and his lips frozen.

"Listen to me. Outside, somewhere in this infinite universe, there is a parallel world. I know for a fact that it exists, just as I know that in that world everything is right, as it should be here. There is a Jisung running across the grass on a sunny day, and you are chasing after him and falling down in an attempt to catch him. There's the two of us laughing and drinking until dawn, throwing ourselves on the ground and hugging each other so we don't get cold. We have flowers on the balcony and dew in our hair. It never rains. The sun always shines. This world really exists, and it's beautiful. But what you have to understand - what I want you to understand - is that this world, this one, it's not that. This is the reality that hurts, the one where you have to pay a price for your life. We can't run across a meadow here, because you picked me and adopted me out of pity. You even managed to fall in love with me, and that's the wrongest thing you could have done. Because you could really be bright, you could really shine, have flowers on the balcony and dew in your hair. But you chose me. And this is not the world in which everything is right. This is the world in which I am fading, the world in which I am losing the color that you are so desperately trying to put on me. But look what happen, look".

Jisung gets up and you can feel his small body clawing in the dark inside the room to open the balcony door and go outside. The apartment is suddenly pervaded with a gray light, reflecting the color of the sky. You look at Jisung, naked, stiff and trembling under the raindrops falling from above.

Jisung pulls his lips up in a distorted smile.

"See?"

Water runs down his back and the paint drips on the soles of his feet, sliding down to his short, pink nails.

"The color melts under the rain. It only lasts a few seconds before I come back to be as transparent as your canvas. And this is not the world where the sun shines. These are blackholes. Life, light, nature, they are all projections in my head. But you. You can still make it. You don't have to follow me. Don't follow my selfishness".

"Jisung, I have to".

Jisung trembles and the water rushes over him. The reality mocks him and everything he can love.

"No, you want to".

don't come with me you are my love

"Don't follow me to the other side. You will fade too".

You clench your fists and watch the drops wetting the ephebic figure in front of you. Jisung comes to you and blows desolate words into your face.

"When I ask you to paint me, don't. When I ask you to pity me, don't. When I beg you to come with me, please, don't".

"No. I must follow you. Everywhere. As long as there are black holes, I will be behind you. As long as this world sucks. As long as I breathe".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

One night you close your eyes and, instead of the sea, you see boundless steppes and barren grasslands. After what seems like miles and miles of dry lands, inside a small depression - almost a pit - you see Jisung, curled onto himself, all naked and with his limbs tangled together, hidden from the world. You don't ask yourself why you can see such a small body at such a distance, but your muscles set into autonomous motion and you find yourself running in that direction.

After endless minutes, you reach what seems to be the final destination, but the pit gradually moves away from you. However, for some reason, you can still see Jisung swinging himself with his face pressed into the dry earth.

You speed up your run and you begin to feel your throat tightening as the first drops of sweat make their way onto your forehead. Shadows cast themselves in the barren ground, but they are distorted by the shadow of your own body and of the dim, suffocating light of the sun. The image of Jisung blurs for a few seconds, and when it becomes clear again, those same shadows are catapulted onto him as well. You lift your head and you see dozens, hundreds, thousands of hawks flying in circles over Jisung's ditch, which tightens and lengthens as it becomes deeper.

The last steps of your run are slow, while the first hawk descends in slow motion on Jisung's soft face and begins to do something to his cheeks. You see Jisung's cheekbones become parched, almost to the point you fear that a gust of wind will blow them away. The second hawk glides beside the other, and you cannot get the soles of your feet off the dusty ground as it begins, slowly, as if it was foretasting a feast, to peck at Jisung's moist eyes.

Soft tears continue to gush, tiny raindrops that can nothing against the infecundity of the place where they stand. The thousands of hawks fly inside the pit and peck at the remnants of that dead body, tearing it apart with their hooked beaks. They chew the skin and swallow Jisung's life, paralyzed in his grave.

After what seems like centuries, they soar together in their cruel dance of farewell. Your feet finally unclench, but it's no longer necessary, because Jisung now stands in front of you, perfect. The tender, rosy flesh barely flushed on his cheeks and the slender, trembling body almost hairless, beautiful.

without

eyes.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Jisung is tired. June is an agony of dampness spent under the sheets, and you spend countless nights hoping that Jisung's sobs will cease and he will finally sleep. July is no better. The heat is starting to get unbearable and Jisung wants to keep the windows closed, hooked shut, so that not a single draft of clean air can penetrate into the apartments. Along with that, he stops drinking.

You keep opening the windows, even if Jisung screams and cries like a baby, and you force his lips open with the help of your fingers, making him swallow some liquids. August is definitely a torture when he stops taking his painkillers and his stomach turns over, forcing him to vomit all day and all night.

There is no turning back now.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

"Tell me".

There is so much smoke inside the room that even if it wasn't that dark, it would be impossible to see more than an inch away from your face. You are lying half on the floor, half on Jisung's sticky thighs, smoking a cigarette that seems to be his only remaining foothold in his earthly existence.

"What?"

Jisung's voice is hoarse and distressing. It has changed exponentially in the past two weeks, since he refused to let you go outside to buy something to eat. You fighted against it, and he bit your hand viciously before starting to cry in shame.

"When you want to leave, tell me".

"You can't come with me. We've already discussed it".

"No, you have already discussed it. By yourself. You don't listen to what I say".

Jisung opens his lips and raises a graceful hand as if he was trying to slap you in the face. Eventually, the hand sags and the slap becomes a trembling caress.

"Jisung, please", you become pleading, tired and desperate. With your bandaged fingers you caress Jisung's thin knuckles, one by one.

"Just tell me. I won't follow you, I promise".

Jisung laughs. His head rests against the wall.

"You will follow me".

"Please".

Your lips meet in the compact darkness and they rub, dry, against each other in the memory of an old, worn-out passion.

"I love you, and you are a liar".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

When you manage to drag Jisung out of the house in September, you almost gave up. You don't know if it is because of the faint light or the clouds, but Jisung's once tan skin is now grayish, and it makes his figure looks unhealthy and contagious at the mere sight. You also brought out brushes, hundreds of them, and half-squeezed tubes of color.

"Why did you bring me here?"

The grass under Jisung's shoes rustles in response. You are in a park just outside the city, a destination for a few couples and students with nothing to do.

"You asked me to paint you".

"That was a long time ago".

You pick up the brushes from your bag and pull a forced smile between you lips.

"And you, quite a long time ago, told me you wanted to shine. Here, then".

The tube of yellow paint curls against the wooden palette and the brush bristles wet in contact.

"Lay down".

Jisung tries to deny it, but then he seems to see in you the edge of a precipice, and maybe he feels a rush of pity and compassion for both of you. He wonders how it is possible to have reached that point without someone having the heart to save you both. Or save at least you.

With an awkward movement he leans over the lawn and lies on his back, shivering from the drops of water trapped between the blades of grass. You kneel beside him and barely lift the edges of his shirt, uncovering his belly and round hips. Jisung closes his eyes and trembles when he feels your open mouth kissing the flesh near his navel. You begin to trace marks near that spot, dipping your brush occasionally into the color. When you finish that first step, you keep painting all around radially, as if the first object was the focal point of the entire image. With your fingers you caress his petite chest, the spots uncovered by the color, the skinny hips, and as much of Jisung as you can.

Once you are done, you lean forward. Jisung reaches out and gently touches your hair, entwining it between his index fingers and anchoring you to him. Jisung's entire chest is a cerulean expanse of sky. There is sky everywhere, interspersed with green tree foliage intertwining on the sides. Down, just above his pelvis, a clear sea joins the sky in a blue line of horizon. And in that small, hidden spot of the kiss, you painted a sun.

"Do you like it?"

Jisung opens his eyes and instead of your face he sees a black universe. He feels two tears sting and run down his cheeks, his chin and to his chest, wetting his lips folded into a smile.

"It's perfect".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

It's December when you think you feel Jisung moving on the bed and kicking off the covers. You also think you can feel his lips kissing you softly and his arms wrapping around your neck before sinking into the oblivion of sleep with his words in your mind.

remember you promised

But when you wake up, Jisung is not really there. The mattress is empty next to you and the sheets are tangled at the bottom of the bed. You snap to your feet, ignoring the dizziness and the fact that the room seems to be moving in circles around you.

"Jisung?"

You call him in a choked, shrill voice, a knot forming in your throat. You hear a ringing noise in you ears and you begin to search everywhere inside the apartment. You want to hope, you really do, that he just went out, but you cannot force yourself to believe in it because Jisung, by now, hasn't been out alone for months.

"Jisung?".

You look again, inside the shower stall, in the small balcony, under the couch, in the closet where you keep you painting canvas, inside the closet in the bedroom. But it's just when you are about to leave the house that you see it. On the living room table, between the keys and the fruit basket. A farewell letter.

You don't even understand how you actually got to pick it up, unfold it, and start reading it, that you tear it in two in your hands, teeth gritted and tears beginning to overflow from your eyes.

"Jisung".

You run outside without even closing the front door, engulfing the steps in trembling, messy strides. You reach the street and the only thing that you can think about is that I promised you, but you should have told me when you were about to go, you should have told me. You run on the road, crossing the roadway, risking getting run over, running on the sidewalks, running over people, running for hours. Until you see him.

For a moment you don't even notice him, caught up in the heat of your research. Yet it's him, standing in front of you. Perfect and naked, with a red dot on his forehead, like in your painting. Beautiful and full of life. As he has never been. As in an iconographic image branded in your head. And it's so perfect, and beautiful and full of life that you give in.

and yet you promised not to follow me

You close your eyes and take one step in his direction. Jisung smiles and spreads his arms wide, and so do you. An inch apart, and Jisung kisses you.

I love you.

You push back your tears.

"I am ready".

and you follow him.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You are 23 years old when you die. You are found in your apartment, lying on the floor, completely naked and smeared with paint. That's suicide, it is obvious, but nobody take a guess on why you decided to end your life.

When they take your body away, a dirty brush of yellow paint slips from your hand and ends up stepped on by the coroner.

Nobody finds dozens and dozens of canvases depicting the same boy. Nobody finds intact packages of painkillers. Nobody finds mint cigarettes and bottles of gin. Nobody finds a shredded letter saying "I am going". Nobody.

"You said you wouldn't follow me".

"You knew I would".

"I love you, and you're a liar".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Outside, somewhere in the infinite universe, there is a parallel world. There's a Jisung running on the grass on a sunny day, and you are running after him and falling down trying to catch him. There's the two of us laughing and drinking until dawn, throwing ourselves on the ground and hugging each other so we don't get cold. We have flowers on the balcony and dew in our hair. It never rains. The sun always shines. You could really shine, have flowers on the balcony and dew in your hair. But you chose me.

You chose me.

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daisies-daydreams · 7 months

Text

Rugire (Werewolf!Soap MacTavish x F!Reader)

Header Source: Pexels

Pairing: Werewolf!Soap x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Heat Cycles/Rut, Implications of Pheromones, Human Genitalia (Soap/Reader), Breeding Kink (like HEAVY breeding kink), Mating Press, Doggy Style, Full Nelson, Unprotected P in V Sex (you know the drill), Creampies, Monster-Fucking, Swearing Word Count: 1k+

Summary: Your hot werewolf boyfriend creampies you. That's the "plot".

A/N: Written for the Spooky Month poll I did! (The reader already knows that Johnny is a werewolf before the story). I’m sorry if it’s shit. :P

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

"Are you going to shift soon?" you asked. Your boyfriend, Johnny, frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. The two of you were sitting outside at the firepit, the sun just dipping past the horizon. You sat snugly in his lap, arms hooked around his thick neck. He tilted his head side to side.

"Kind of," Johnny sighed. His sapphire eyes stared into the flickering flames from the pit as he rubbed your side. "It's more...intense than my usual shifting," he said as his face flushed.

"How intense?" you asked as you snuggled against his chest. You listened to his heartrate quicken as you brushed your cheek against his pecs. He swallowed.

"Well, you see...I just want to-" he paused, his face a deep shade of cherry red.

"Fuck someone's brains out?" you piqued. Johnny's eyes widened as he laughed nervously.

"Er, well...yeah," he grunted. Your lover blinked as you adjusted yourself on his lap, your crotch just barely brushing over his. You smiled as you smoothed your hands over his shoulders.

"It'll be okay, Johnny. I'll help you," you whispered in a low, husky whisper as you ground your hips forward. Johnny narrowed his eyes as he grabbed your waist.

"Careful, bonnie," he husked with a wry grin, his thumbs brushing over your hips. You bit your lip before pecking his cheek.

"When will it happen?" you asked before kissing at the corner of his jaw. His breath hitched as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Tomorrow night," he whispered. You nodded before gently kissing his pink lips, letting your touch linger before you pulled back.

"I look forward to it," you grinned cheekily.

---

You slowly stepped inside your bedroom, the lights turned down low as your lover heaved within a large, padded down nest of blankets. You swallowed thickly as you moved closer, your hands fiddling with the bottom of your thin lingerie as you watched him rut into your pillow.

“Oh, mo chridhe,” Johnny whined as he shoved his face into the mattress, his sharp hips desperately grinding against the pillow as a sheen of sweat coated his flush skin. You sucked in a sharp breath when you saw the rippling muscles of his back and thighs, his now massive body covered in a thick coat of hair. You gasped when he snapped his head towards you.

His dark pupils overshadowed the bright, sparkling baby blues of his eyes. He flashed his large canines as he swiped his tongue across his upper lip.

"Bonnie," your love grunted as he continued to hump against the soft pillow, his face mixed with ecstasy and pain.

“Johnny,” you whispered as you came closer. You squeaked when your love whipped his head over, only to rub his cheek against your hand.

"(Y/N), please...I need to feel you," his breathing stuttered as his cock swelled between his legs. "Please," he gasped. A searing wave of arousal swept through your body as you shivered. You placed your hand on his arm, his muscles twitching beneath your touch before you climbed next to him.

"I'm here, Johnny," you murmured softly. The whole room spun as your back was suddenly flush to the nest of blankets. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you watched his eyes glow with a hint of silver. Your eyes bulged when you saw his massive, flushed member throb above your barely covered, slick pussy. You shivered as he brushed the tips of his sharpened claws over the crotch of your midnight black lingerie.

“Tryin’ so hard to hold back…but I just can’t stop thinkin’ about fillin’ you up...over and over,” Johnny groaned as he suddenly ripped the crotch of your lingerie in one swift motion. You mewled as the cool air kissed over your wet lower lips, your walls pulsing around nothing.

“Need you, Johnny,” you whined as you rolled your hips forward. Johnny panted as he spread your legs apart, a deep, low growl ripping from his throat as he gazed at your slick slit. You gasped as he threw your legs over his broad shoulders, a hungry twinkle in his eye.

"Been waitin' to do this for so long," he breathed before shoving his face into your dripping cunt. You threw your head back as he lapped along your juicy slit with his wet, long tongue.

“Ah!” you keened as you gripped the sheets, your body becoming overwhelmingly hot with each stroke of his slick muscle. Johnny purred as he dragged his tongue up and down, the tip of his tongue swirling over your tight little hole.

You squealed as he suddenly shoved his long, thick tongue deep inside your walls. His nostrils flared as he puckered his lips over your pussy and eagerly thrusted into your soft canal.

"R-Right there," you breathed as your walls fluttered around his tongue. The feeling of his claws raking across your thighs made you whine and arch your back.

“J-Johnny, fuck,” you panted as he devoured you. His canines glistened in the dim lighting of your room as he curled his tongue up and put pressure on your g-spot. Your vision grew blurry as you cried out with pleasure. A sweet yet musky smell suddenly flooded your nostrils, making your legs shake intensely. “Baby,” you sobbed as you ground your hips against his face. Johnny snarled before he puckered his lips again and made a loud slurping sound. Your eyes rolled back as a flash of white blinded your vision. Your orgasm tumbled through you like a tidal wave, your body and mind trembling with pure ecstasy. Johnny pulled off of your slick cunt with a “pop” before he snatched the back of your calves.

Your eyes widened as you were suddenly bent in half, your knees touching your shoulders as he sank his heavy cock deep inside you. The stretch was almost too much, his throbbing sex nearly splitting you in two as he bottomed out. Your jaw went slack as you buried your nails into his thick shoulders, your toes curling as he began to rapidly thrust inside you. The musky smell grew even stronger as Johnny panted against your neck. Your whole body glowed with pleasure as he pounded deep inside you. You squeaked when he shoved his tongue inside your mouth, the taste of yourself so unfamiliar as he tangled his tongue with yours.

“Mine,” he muttered against your lips before diving back in. Your walls pulsed around his massive shaft as you moaned into his mouth, your tongue gliding across each other’s hungrily. You broke with a slick “pop” as Johnny curled his hands around your calves, his cock driving into you at a desperate pace.

“Oh my God!” you cried out as your orgasm suddenly ripped through you. You threw your head back as your pussy gripped and hugged Johnny’s shaft, drawing a deep, guttural growl from your lover.

“F-uck,” he choked before stilling his hips. Your whole being lit up with a euphoria as you felt something pop deep inside you. You raked your nails over the ridges of his muscles as you felt his cum gush against your cervix. You babbled his name as his hot spend rushed out, soaking the inside of your thighs and the sheets below. Johnny huffed against your neck as his breathing slowed.

“That…that was-” you gasped as he suddenly spun you around, his dick still lodged between your over sensitive walls as you lay on your stomach. Johnny quickly shoved his cock back inside you before rocking his hips forward. You mewled as his hands gripped your waist while he pounded into you from behind. You screamed into the blanket, your ass bouncing against his hairy abs as the room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Johnny panted as he kept a brutal pace, his sweaty body rubbing against yours as you drooled onto the sheets.

“Mmm,” you murmured incoherently as you felt another pop ripple through your center. You gasped as more of his cum bursted from between your sexes and oozed over the back of your thighs. You mewled, the soft fabric of the blankets becoming soaked with your tears of bliss as he filled you past your limit.

“J-Johnny-“ you slurred as he took you into his large arms. His eyes were glowing a bright blue as he licked over his canines. You gasped as he curled his arms beneath your knees. You released a silent scream of pleasure as he sank you down on his thick member. You drooled and rolled your head back as Johnny bounced you on his cock, his hips snapping upward as his cum flooded his hairy lap.

“Oh fuck,” you squealed as your clit throbbed and walls pulsed around his length. Your head spun as you gripped and clawed at his taut arms.

Johnny husked as skin slapped against skin. You gasped as your legs shook in his grasp, your toe-curling orgasm shaking you to the core. Your walls were completely stretched open as you felt his cock twitch for the last time. You shuddered as he filled your heat once more, the warm, gooey feeling of his spend making you melt from the inside out.

Both of you panted as Johnny held you still, his cock stuffing all of his cum deep inside your hole. You mewled as he nuzzled his face against your neck.

“That’s a good lass,” Johnny murmured.

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

383 notes · View notes

liasadventuretime · 1 year

Text

˗ˏˋyou jealous ? :) ´ˎ˗ - neteyam x reader pt. 3

⁀➷ part three : CONGRATULATIONS, FUCKER.

notes : so um… hi ! since y’all really enjoyed pt. 2 i decided i might as well write a pt. 3… i have to say that it was kind of hard writing this part because i genuinely didn’t think people would’ve liked it that much and had no idea of what to say anymore ☠️ but anygays … i had a BIG ASS fight with my parents so they took my phone, and they’re probably going to take my mac away too so idk when i’ll upload pt. 4 ( if y’all want one ), so i tried to write a bit more this time, i hope it’s sufficient.

tags : @xoxobabe @marcswife21 @arminsgfloll @rubysworld96 @klarolinefanatic @giftfromthemoon @k4tsukiis @rainehatepage @neteyamsbbgfr @miapanticc @iixyia-deactivated20230123 @famousbagelhandspurse @astablacksword @ghoulfac3 @buttercake2234 @potseluymenya @mashiromochi @avatarslut0 @chanyeolsbeloved @regulus-black-223048 @isabelcor3 @grierpilots @neteyamsmate4life @beyoenisbalfart @severenswife @lady-in-gold @bealone-prm @hafutoru @jyoungmom @soxfix @thatgoodvibescloud @aalyara @abbersreads @neteyamsw @strawberryys-stuff @ilovestargirl @rubysworld96 @meivap @neteyamsullyswife @erenjaegerwifee @cherry-blossom34 @slutforavatar @hey-girl-hey @athenachu @laaalox @ghostjoohoney @tsamiaxo @arminsgfloll

warnings : a bit of angst, insecurity, overthinking neteyam lmao, detailed masturbation, this man is lusting waaaaaayyy too much over you lmao, a lil makeout session with someone 🤭, and i think that’s it lol.

everything was okay now. no really, everything’s okay.

after your talk with neteyam, he left you with more questions than answers once again.

your brain felt like a beehive, never stopping, so you tried to distract yourself with anything.

you trained, you read, you helped around, but not even spending time with ao’nung could help. you don’t think he noticed the way you pretended it was neteyam holding you, kissing you, spoiling you. but you gotta be careful.

you just had one single thought in your mind.

flashback

“you know we could argue right now, and no one would hear or see us ?”

“we could do anything right now, and nobody would see us. anything.”

your thoughts were interrupted by someone speaking.

you opened the tent only to see someone’s chest right in front of you, you tilted your head up and you saw him. neteyam.

your heart dropped to your stomach for a second, making you almost gasp. what was he doing here ? his hair was still in the same hairstyle you saw him in at the beach. he looked almost unreal.

face framed by a few braids, jaw locked making him look so nervous for some reason, his high cheekbones sharp as always, and even though you never told him, you wanted to feel his cheekbones so much, all the time. pointy nose with a little bump which you recognised immediately, it was jake’s. that bump was only on his nose, because all the other sons and daughters didn’t have it. he really is his father’s son. eyes still soulless, empty that almost looked dead. they were pointy, but not too much. he has that “sharp” look from neytiri, her stare could send you to heaven and above. his shoulders broad, not too muscly which is something you liked. his arms veiny and biceps always flexed, not even having to force it. his abs well sculpted, he was still wet, droplets of water running down his face and chest, he was probably swimming with lo’ak. or someone else.

you shook your head a bit, to get that thought off your head. it doesn’t matter, it really doesn’t. his v-line almost looks like it got highlighted and sharpened, which was the only thing you hated about the way your people dress.

his everything was for everyone to see. everyone.

you sometimes tend to forget he’s not offlimits, and to say you had nightmares, about someone else getting neteyam before you, was too little.

his voice snapping you out of your trance again, hoping he didn’t catch you quite literally analyzing his whole body, but the proud smile on his face immediately cleared all your doubts.

“your cigarettes.” he said getting in your face making fun of you. he handed you your pack of cigarettes. he didn’t give you the lighter but it didn’t matter, that’s the last thing you cared about right now.

that’s quite weird though. this isn’t the first time you forgot your cigarettes, he usually just keeps them since you smoke them together anyways. you better not think about it too much before you get delusional.

“oh, thank you.” you lightly smiled at him, looking at him in the eyes while taking the packet off your hands. but before you could get them, he pulled your hand to him and placed the pack on the top of your palm, his hand still holding yours. stop, stop, stop.

if you could only know what he was thinking about, he thought to himself.

if you could only know what he did later that night thinking about you.

flashback

“i fucking knew it.” he said, walking to his tent, his fists tight, his jaw locked.

he fucking knew you just couldn’t take that further step. he was only a game to you.

you enjoyed teasing him, playing with his mind acting like he was your dirty little toy, cared about only when you’re horny, or ao’nung couldn’t satisfy you enough.

how could he at the end of the day ? ao’nung wasn’t him and will never be.

he knows he’s better, but fuck do your choices fuck his mind up.

he though he could at least get one night with you, one single night. he could be near you, stay with you, inside you. he could see you. but you didn’t want to. hell, you didn’t even want to look at him.

the constant thoughts of you, torturing his mind. he hoped he could at least live one night of pure love, caring and affection, thinking you wanted too, so he could then go on with his life, mate with a person he didn’t love or care about only to satisfy his father, since the only thing he has always wanted was you.

he wanted you to look at him, but you were too busy staring and smiling at ao’nung.

he felt tears glossing his eyes, you could never be with him, because you simply didn’t want to.

as soon as he got into his tent, he immediately threw your shit away, that you forgot on the beach, with your other stuff. yes, he had a chest with a bunch of stuff you always forgot when you were around him. even looking at it, could make his heart wrench, feeling actual pain.

your blanket, you were nine years old and you had forgotten it when you slept that night with his parents, you had a nightmare. he didn’t sleep that night, so that if you had a nightmare again he could be the one to comfort you. not his parents, him.

your emerald braid accessory, you were eleven, he said he liked it, that it suited your face, so you took it off your braid and placed it in his hand, saying “take it, it’ll look better on you anyway”. it would’ve never looked better on anyone, that wasn’t you. so he just decided to keep it.

your spoon, the one that you used to eat your meals with, and that one time you happened to really like the meal his mom cooked for you. you took a spoonful of it, and positioned it in front of neteyam’s mouth. he was confused for a second, not getting if you actually wanted him to eat out of your spoon. you said “open your mouth, it’s really good, i promise”. not like you had to prove anything, he would’ve eaten a spoonful of poison if your hand was the one holding it. he hesitantly opened his mouth and you fed him. you smiled, and went back to eating your meal, with the same spoon you had just fed him with. it was something probably superficial for you, but it really did mean the world to him.

nostalgia was the sharpest blades of all.

if he only knew you thought the same exact thing.

his mask slipped for a second, letting a tear cut though his face, leaving behind a cold scar. he aggressively wiped it away. he hated you, so so so much. he couldn’t bear the sight of you.

he hated you.

he hated your beautiful hair, your sharp sparkly eyes, your soft cheekbones, your so damn kissable nose, your pouty lips that always fucking curl and smile at everyone’s jokes but his, the soft hill of your breast, the curve that separated your ribcage from the lowest part of your waist.

he couldn’t avoid getting hard every single fucking time. thinking about the way of your body moves when you play beach volley with your group, the way you felt on top of him, or well right on top of his dick, every single time you fought. he couldn’t avoid thinking about the way you were on top of him, fitting oh so well on his dick, while he was holding your wrists with one hand, but since you were way too angry, you didn’t even notice that his other free hand was placed on your waist with a brutal grip. to say he almost whimpered seeing stars, because of how well his big hand fitted on your strong curvy waist, was way too little.

there weren’t words to explain how much he wanted you. he could’ve collected every single thing he wrote about you, and still wouldn’t be enough to explain how hard his heart throbbed every time you were with him. well, maybe something else throbbed too.

neteyam couldn’t take it anymore. if he had to rub out every single thought he had about you, he would’ve became infertile a long time ago.

he placed his head on the pillow, trying to get to sleep in a fetal position. he turned and turned, trying to think of something else, but not the even aliyah, who he tried so hard to act like she was better than you, could lock his thought of you out of his mind.

he sighed in frustration, aggressively getting up when he noticed that.

his incredible massive boner, his dick’s timing was just great.

he got up, turned on the shower, making sure there was still some hot water, and took his clothes off.

“oh c’mon, now.” he silently said after taking off his underwear, noticing pre-cum on them. his dick spurted up, hitting him in the stomach. he rolled his eyes, and got in the shower.

the hot water hugged him, feeling like all of his problems were going down the drain.

he watched his dick gently throb, brought his hand to the base and slid it all the way up, circling his the tip, trying to let out of all the built up sexual tensione he had.

he tried to think about anything that wasn’t you. but how could he ?

how could he not think about the way your sex humped on his clothes, feeling your folds hug his shaft so perfectly. how could he not think of the way that you thought he didn’t notice you throb on him ? how could he not think of the way his hand from your waist slid down to your ass, before his dad separated the both of you ? how could he not think of the way that ao’nung’s hand was in your inner thigh, but you were looking at him ?

his pace got faster, making him heavy pant with his eyes closed, your figure tattooed on his eyelids. he came, seeing some of his seed on his hand and what was left of it going down the drain with the water and his problems.

he sighed, staying there, back held by the wall behind him, leaving him thinking. but he was way too tired of thinking. his temples were throbbing with pain, from how hard his headache was. he just finished washing himself, put some clothes on, and just went to sleep.

you woke up the next morning, head basically feeling like someone stomped on it.

you barely could even sleep last night, too many problems flowing in your thoughts.

you sighed, almost whimpering, brutishly throwing your head back on the pillow. why did everything have to be soooo complicated. you definitely had to talk to him, because all of this had to stop. you were tired, sexually frustrated and sleep deprived. this combo could easily make you kill anyone who even tries to disturb your peace.

you hated the way he was trying to hard to act like “he’s protecting his peace”, motherfucker your disturbing everyone else’s. you got up sloppily, waiting for lo’ak to come by your tent like he did every single morning.

but well, weird. time has passed and you didn’t even see lo’ak’s shadow, where could he be ?

you got out of your tent, walking to his parents’ one since the poor lil boo boo had nightmares basically every single night. you almost wanted to feel bad for him, but how the fuck could you ?

at the beginning you thought that after hearing all the crazy stories about the war his dad, the former Toruk Makto, fought, he just was scared and was having nightmares about that.

but after hearing that he had a nightmare about you fucking tsireya, you were done caring about this man. out of all things in the world, THAT ? since you said you could definitely fall in love with a girl, he went on flight or fight mode. saying this guy could literally sweat jealousy, was too little.

“father ? are you here ?” you said while keeping the tone of your voice low and calm, so you didn’t scare anyone off. but the scene in front of you could be the least thing you expected.

neytiri and jake seated in a circle with everyone, and when you say everyone, you meant EVERYONE. in front of jake there was neteyam, who looked like he almost killed someone by the way he had his head down, legs crossed and… was that a slap mark ??

on neteyam’s left, kiri and spider were seated. which is weird, why were they so quiet ? on neteyam’s right there were lo’ak and tuk. even tuk ? you felt a wave of goosebumps traveling their way up your back. this is way much more serious than you thought.

jake looked at you with the harshest expression you have ever seen on his face. “oh great, (y/n) sit down and join us.” you didn’t sit down, still trying to process what he was saying while walking in the tent, getting behind neteyam.

“FUCKING SIT. NOW.” he screamed at you, as you felt a wave of shock wash over you. you immediately sat down, accidentally bumping neteyam’s shoulder. that’s the first time jake has ever yelled at you. never, in his whole life has he ever screamed at you. yes, he sometimes could be mad at you, but has never screamed that way. neytiri looked at you with heartbroken eyes, mouthing ‘i’m so sorry.’. why would she apologise, it’s not like it’s her fault. right ?

jake huffed, keeping the palms of his hands on his crossed legs, almost looking like he was trying to find the words to explain what was on his mind. this man is going to get a heart attack if you and the others don’t stop stressing him. you felt ashamed, of the way you childishly fighted with neteyam over stupid stuff, not even realising your father couldn’t handle it anymore.

the shame, always comes at the worst time.

“this is the last fucking time i’m saying this. why THE FUCK-” he stopped for a second, trying to calm down for a second. tuk was with us, he probably didn’t want to swear or yell in front of her. you saw him take a deep breath and finish his sentence.

“why, THE FUCK, did you treat her like that ? what has she done to you ? it’s not like your skxawng ass has a mate to be loyal to.” he said, finishing his sentence.

your heart dropped, you were almost capable of hearing the echo of its fall. wait.

she ?

who are we talking about ?

interrupting you from your thoughts, jake stood up scaring everyone, and furiously walked to then kneel in front of neteyam. he harshly grabbed his face, making you gasp out loud, almost like he grabbed your face.

what happened ? you were so confused. she ? who is she ? how did he treat her for jake to be this mad ?

neteyam looked at him, his head tilt up with absent eyes, lips pressed together and jaw locked.

“you have absolutely no idea of what you’ve done, do you ?” jake almost whispered, which was probably even scarier than him screaming.

“this sweet sweet girl, who is literally the clan leader’s daughter, came up to you, asking you whatever the fuck she asked you, and what did you do ?” oh. so it’s tsireya’s sister we’re talking about, aliyah.

“’ oh leave me alone, i don’t want anything to do with you’” he said mocking neteyam’s words. he chuckled, and continued.

“your skxawng ass better be grateful if the leader doesn’t tell us to pack our staff and go the fuck away, after the way she ran away crying.” he stood up from his position, stopping the grasp on neteyam’s face, making him leave his head to the side. he lifted up his gaze, only to be met with yours.

you were genuinely so worried, in part because you couldn’t understand what in the actual fuck was happening. what did aliyah want ? why did neteyam make her cry ?

“is it my fault that i don’t want to mate with a person i don’t like ?” he silently said, making everyone turn their heads to him, no one expected him to talk. this is so bad.

jake stopped for a second with his back towards him. he slowly turned around with furrowed eyebrows and a slightly parted mouth. “what the fuck did you just say ?” he said, the vein on his temple was quite literally about to pop.

“I SAID, i don’t want to mate with her ! i don’t want her ! she was throwing herself all over me, like the fucking slag she is, and when i told her no, BECAUSE I HAVE EVERY FUCKING RIGHT TO SAY NO, she started crying.” he stopped for a second, catching his breath while looking at his dad. he couldn’t recognise him, why was he suddenly so pressed and stressed about neteyam finding a mate ? did it have to do with you ?

jake crossed his arms, and with an ironic smirk on his face he said “then who the fuck do you like, huh ? is every other girl so repellent to you ? have you suddenly became picky or what ?”

neteyam was about to let a tear cut through his face but he didn’t even though his eyes still remained glossed with tears. “i like someone else, but they don’t want to have anything to do with me. that’s it. it’s not the end of the world.” neteyam finished, with a slightly cracked but most importantly low voice.

jake stared at him for a couple of seconds. his face was now suddenly calm, while neytiri’s was absolutely devastated.

there was no denying it, neteyam’s a mommas boy. thank god, neytiri never tried to emotionally incest him, indeed she was happy when he talked to her about this someone he liked. that was the first time neytiri saw her sweet son be so wrapped around someone’s finger. she said that he should at least try, not jump to conclusions. but if he did jump to conclusions earlier, he wouldn’t have to feel his heart wrench and blood boil every single time he thought about what happened that night with you at the beach. he should’ve jumped to conclusion, and probably taken a fucking hint. you didn’t want him. that’s it, it’s as simple as it gets. move on, neteyam.

move on.

jake looked at you for a second, like the answer to all his problems was somewhere inside of you. in that exact moment he thought.

“is it better to speak or to die ?”

should he speak ? should he let you know that all of this, was because neteyam couldn’t move past you ? he couldn’t even count on his hands how many other omatikaya women have came up and asked to be neteyam’s mate. and he refused to even look at them. one after the other.

or should he die ? let his son stare at you with dreamy eyes, trying everyday to kill whatever he felt for you ? see him mate with another person he probably didn’t love, or even want to be near to ? should he kill his son ? a body is nothing without its soul. you were half of him, even though you were probably complete on your own. that’s the thing.

you could live without neteyam, neteyam couldn’t live without you.

neteyam stood up, catching everyone’s attention, leaving the tent and distracting jake from his thoughts.

“reunion finished, get out” he said opening the tent’s entrance for everyone.

neteyam had been waiting for you. on the beach, with a new lighter, because he wanted to keep yours. only waiting for you to come here, smile at him, sit next to him and smoke together.

but after an hour, he was worried. had something happened to you ? where did you go after the family reunion ?

he just decided to get up, and look for you. to finally try and not jump to conclusions again.

to finally say those damn three words.

“i see you.”

yes, that was the day, or maybe he could at least try and hint his intentions. letting you know he wanted more than a hookup, and that he finally was fucking ready to treat you like he should have been all this time.

ok no, maybe it’s a little too early for that.

he had no idea that that same day, ao’nung came by your tent.

“hey, how are you ?” ao’nung asked, face poking from the side of your tents entrance. you were surprised he came by your tent. he wasn’t used to do this, but it’s not like you don’t appreciate it.

“hey” you said back. he got in the tent, looking around for a bit. this was probably the first time he came here after you decided to basically move here.

“so, what have you been up you?” you tried to keep a conversation going, you couldn’t bare the silence it was way too awkward.

“i’ve been missing you.” he said, in a serious tone. silence dropped for a second, but it was immediately interrupted by your laughs. thank god.

“and what have you been up to ?” he smiled looking at you while leaning his back on the wall. maybe you could fall in love with him. or maybe you’re just delusional.

“nothing special, if i have be to be honest, but… “ you left your sentence incomplete, walking to him with his gaze glued on you. same smirk on his face.

“… i’ve been missing you too.” you finished your sentence, placing a kiss on his lips.

you were such a little dirty liar. you didn’t miss him one bit.

you place another kiss on his lips, and another one. and another one.

until he placed a hand behind your neck, smashing your lips together, deepening your kiss. his tongue lightly parted your lips, as if he was asking for your consent. you hugged his tongue with yours, tasting him. but ao’nung’s lips couldn’t even come near netayam’s lips. soft, on your skin, jaw and neck. his hand tracing circles on your waist as usual, your arms thrown to circle his neck.

you silently moaned against his lips, catching his attention, making him heavy breathe. your lips still attached to his, you lightly jumped, his big hands covering your ass, making you hug his waist with your legs.

you were so deep already, into all of this story. are situationships supposed to act like this ? was it normal ? are you falling in love ? or are you falling in love with the person you’re pretending is holding you right now ?

are you in love with ao’nung or the guy that could make you fall to your knees with only a kiss ? or make you whimper with a single touch ? or make you doubt everything you know with a simple phrase ? that someone had such a special effect on you, you don’t think there’s any language in this world that is capable of explaining what he did to you. how he makes you feel.

you were so so so tired. of fighting. of pretending. of replacing.

shouldn’t things be easier ?

your thoughts interrupted by ao’nung’s lips kiss and biting on your neck, but neteyam did it so much better. you lifted your face, giving him more space to work on. ao’nung suddenly stopped, face still in the crook of your neck . and you suddenly had this bad bad feeling in your gut.

something bad about to happen to you. you don’t what it is, but you feel it coming.

you waited for ao’nung to say something, hands still on your back to hold you, like you weighted as much as a feather. he could give you anything you wanted, but how could ask him to give you another person ? that unfortunately wasn’t him.

“i know who you pretend i am.” your heart dropped the moment ao’nung spoke those words, with his voice low and cracked. he knew and still came by your tent. the guilt was chocking you.

he knows, and i know he knows. what could you even say ? that it wasn’t true ? that he was worried for nothing ? you couldn’t, because not only you would be lying to him, but you would also be lying to yourself.

as if your night couldn’t get better, someone entered the tent.

but as soon as you felt your heart stinging, you knew damn well you were in so much trouble.

so so so so much trouble. you were absolutely fucked.

you didn’t even have to look at him, to realise that the person who just entered your tent was neteyam. you immediately fell back to your feet, distancing yourself from ao’nung.

who did you even have to be loyal to ?

but maybe, it just was the fact that you couldn’t betray your heart.

you suddenly felt naked, in front of him. his gaze confused, eyes glossed once again with tears.

you just wanted to disappear, you just wanted to die.

he scoffed, crossing his arms and looking at you with a smirk on his face. this was so bad.

ao’nung kept trying to keep track on what was happening, why were you so suddenly acting like this. but he might have realised something, that the two of you have been trying to hide so hard. his eyes flashed, mouth slightly opened. heart completely shattered. he immediately ran out of the tent, purposely bumping his shoulder against neteyams. not even daring to look back. you felt a tear leave your eye. what have you done ?

the silence was suddenly interrupted by neteyams voice, making you tilt your head up.

“congratulations, fucker.”

he stopped for a second. trying to get the words.

“if you only knew how many words i have wasted on you, and how many other words i was willing to waste. even tonight, but you didn’t even come by.”

that’s all he said, before leaving once again, following ao’nung’s traces.

leaving you alone.

alone, again.

final notes : damn um, so how did y’all like it ? i hope u enjoyed it ! if y’all want a part four remember to like the post and if you want to be tagged and you’re not already on the tag list, message me privately or comment it ! for some reason i can’t tag everyone, so i’ll just directly send it ! sorry for the wait, AND PLS LET ME KNOW WHERE YALL ARE FROM BECAUSE IM EUROPEAN AND I POST AT COMPLETELY RANDOM TIMES 😭

sneak peak : so the time has come ! someone noticed a song reference i put in my story ! if y’all didn’t already notice it, in all my posts i put some song references which, if you can tell me from which song or band it is, you get a sneak peak of the next part before everyone else ! the first winner was… @grierpilots !, the reference was from a neighbourhood song, one of my favs which is crybaby ! the reference was : “i always get this anxious feeling, but it goes away when i’m with you breathing.” which neteyam said to you in pt. 2 of the fic ! the quote isn’t exact but it’s always recognisable :)

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