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utterlyhopeful-fics · 4 years

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Love you too.

A/N: This was initially supposed to be smut but my brain went hay wire and ended in angst. More Mayans coming next week!

MASTERLIST

Also, if I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 2210

Ezekiel Reyes x Reader

Warnings: language, angst, Ez being an asshole, heartbreak, more angst

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Ezekiel couldn’t resist ogling Y/N from across the overly crowded bar. Cigar smoke filtrated throughout, pool cues ricocheted, and Y/N dawned that brilliant smile of hers. Her candied glimpse combined with her impeccably short dress, and irrevocably sexiness drove Ez to the brink of combustion. Ez perched an elbow against the wood bar top watching Y/N’s hypnotizing demeanor. She shot him a playful glance unwilling to draw her attention elsewhere than from the beautiful man across the room.

Her voice oozed of alcoholic flirtation as she bit her lower lip catching his interest and walking his way.

“Come here often, hotshot?”

There was no denying the sly chuckle that slipped off his lips; “Smooth line. How often does that one actually work?”

Her kittenish nature only stoked his fire lighting a fire in his belly.

“Well…my boyfriend usually falls for it but he’s kinda into that cutesy bullshit. Come to think of it, you might know him. Tall, dark, and handsome? Ring any bells?”

Her insinuated attitude was driving him crazy. Unbeknownst to Y/N, his cock stirred in the confines of his jeans. She wanted to force his hand, compel to his more dominant side. His blood seethed as his eardrums hummed of desolate waves. Ez bit his tongue to stop the trickle of words begging to slink from his lips.

“Sounds like a sucker. Didn’t think a pretty chica like you to be taken? Such a shame.”

Y/N’s raised an eyebrow in curiosity wondering how much longer she could push him before he turned into putty.

“Now, now. I don’t appreciate you talking shit about my man. It’d be best if you watch yourself.”

Y/N excelled when a challenge presented itself. Defiance buried in her very pitch as she scooted closer to the man in question. Now elbow to elbow, Y/N rested her cheek against her knuckles coyishly.

“Baby, if you keep smiling like that, my panties will be drenched before we have the chance to do a damn thing about it.”

Leaning closer in;” Please don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting I turn you on…make you wet?” There was no hiding the devilish grin cemented on his perfect face.

Her face furiously flushed at his choice words; “Most definitely, E. In all honesty, I’m not wearing underwear because matter of fact just looking at that gorgeous jawline of yours is way too much for my ovaries to handle.”

His tongue met the roof of his mouth creating a tsk sound reverberating from his mouth. Y/N rubbed her thighs together in hopes of alleviating her eccentric inner bits. Y/N pushed her falling tendrils from her face tilting her head his direction. Her hand made quick work caressing her inner breasts as Ez watched her chest beat rapidly.

“Mmmhm, and this girl is hoping her boyfriend just might be able to sneak away from his boys for a minute to properly fuck his girl. But I’d hate to force your hand….”

“I hope you know the punishment that ensues for this behavior baby girl…”

“Oh, so you admit you’ll punish me? God, I’ve been dying for you to fuck me all night. Finally, you got the hint, Prospect.”

Ezekiel chucked at her cleverness. He’d long fallen for the woman before him, but he appreciated the constant challenge she reciprocated time and time again.

“What are you trying to hint at, Y/N?”

“You know exactly what I want and you’re playing coy if you don’t.”

Y/N rested her hand atop his shoulder as his hand perched upon the dip of her luscious hip. Leaning in dangerously close, she trailed sleek kisses against the slick of his neck. Each smooth trailed upwards towards his ear as Y/N leaned in seductively close.

“It’s cute thinking you don’t want to fuck the shit out of me here. Your bashfulness never seizes to amaze me.”

Her hands grazed down his defined abs brutishly stroking the outer layer of his jeans.

“But your dick seems to tell another story.”

Ezekiel gazed around the room watching his brothers too distracted by pool cues and babes to notice their interaction laughing aloud.

“If you haven’t noticed I’m still their bitch boy and I can’t just slip away without someone noticing.”

“Oh, but I promise you won’t have to travel far. The bathrooms are only a few feet away. So, if you’re interested in fucking your super-horny girlfriend, meet me there in five minutes. If not, I’ll just have to do the job myself. But don’t worry, I’ll send you the video.”

“You’re such a goddamn brat, you know that? …” Ez moved his hand grazing his clothed crotch as a moan alluded her.

“Can’t you feel how hard I am for you right now? It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yes, dear boyfriend. If you’re bating me then yes, I do want to fuck you here and now.”

“So quick to make demands when you’re in no position to do so. Shit, I can’t wait to nestle so fucking deep within you, to hear you begging for me. Someone needs to fuck the brat outta ya.”

“Oh, it’s so cute you think I’ll beg. My pussy is your haven, don’t forget that.”

Y/N added just an inch of space between their sweltering bodies unwilling to give into him so easily.

“So, I’ll take your erect cock as a yes. You know where I’ll be…”

Y/N walked by him dripping in her own seductive nature. Ez reached towards her gripping her arm in exchange; “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”

“Well guess you can prove it to me.”

“Oh, you tease….”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!”

“You little…”

“Brat? That’s right, only one person makes me act this way, feel this way and that person is you. So, whether you like it or not, deal with it.”

“Oh, I’ll deal with you alright. Soon enough you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

“I completely intend on it. In fact, I’ll leave the ball in your court.”

Y/N sauntered past him making sure to graze her breasts against his trunk; “You know where I’ll be.” She winked his way hoping for Ez to catch her hint before walking towards the bathroom hoping the one person she’d hoped would follow. Ezekiel Reyes was genuinely her other half, someone who understood every intricate design she’d been allotted.

Coco approached the Ez clasping his shoulder; “How are you the luckiest bastard outta all of us, Prospect? You get to tap that on the daily? Not fair cabrón.”

His angelic curls fell gently upon his forehead as that signature smirk of his appeared.

“In my defense, she’s a little shit that she tests my patience every damn day. But, yes, I gotta agree with you. I’m the luckiest bastard outta all of us.”

“So quit fuckin talking to me and go get yo girl, newbie.”

Ez nodded agreeing with Coco. He was torn between his club obligations and chasing after Y/N, his eyes bouncing back and forth.

“Don’t worry. I’ll cover you. 10 minutes… now go before I change my mind!”

“Thanks, brother. I owe you one.”

“Damn right you do, now go!”

His boots pounded against the wood; his strides picked up taking him quickly to his destination. Ez’s anticipation peaked as he neared the bathroom door rattling the handle. Ez stood dumbfounded to find the door locked…

“Querida, I know you’re in there. I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, ain’t I?”

Y/N whispered back through the door; “I’m counting on it.”

The click of the door gave way unlocking as Ez stepped inside swiftly shutting the door behind him. He eyed Y/N like she was his last and final meal wanting to devour her from the outside in. The startled look in her misty eyes only excited him more. He stalked towards her; Y/N walked backwards in sync with him. Soon enough, the back of her thighs met the cold cabinet. Her skin crawled of goosebumps as her panting increased significantly.

“You bait me all night, wearing this ungodly short piece of fabric that barely covers anything on this gorgeous body of yours, and you have the audacity to talk shit?”

Electricity stifled their small quarters as Ez’s hands played with her hemline. Wet kisses tickled down her collar bone. Y/N tilted her head allowing Ez easier access. Torturously slow, Ez pressed the material upwards above her curvy hips revealing her bare pussy.

“No underwear. Glad to see you weren’t lying.”

Y/N slapped his chest in jest; “One thing I will never do is lie to you Ezekiel Reyes.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Only adding fuel to the fire, Y/N grasped his chin between her fingers forcing his gaze to remain on her and only her. She squeezed tightly enough to grab his fleeting attention.

“I don’t joke about that shit, E. I’ve never felt this way before. Don’t spoil it just yet.”

The crow’s feet near his eyes softened exhaling all the excess air loitering in his lungs. His infamous puppy dog looks triggered charging their electricity. Forgetting her momentarily exposure, Y/N closed the gap kissing him with every inch of might fathomable. She mustered every ounce of desire to which Ez gladly reciprocated.

Their moans intermingled as Ez tapped her thigh signaling to jump on the counter. Her legs spread unconscious creating the perfect amount of space for him to slide into. His hands travelled along her sides before finding home and squeezing the globes of her luscious ass. Every dimple and indention turned him on. An illicit squeak was the only other sound accompanying their heavy breathing.

“Please, E.” A whiny undertone whirred to life.

“Please what? I’m right here.”

Her legs wrapped around his hips securely pulling him closer. His jeans rubbed deliciously against her exposed thighs only teasing her further.

“I want you. All of you, Ezekiel Reyes. Forever.”

Something unexplainable shifted in that moment as Ez gazed down at the girl pinned beneath him. For so long, he’d wanted this, dreamt of her, and now he wasn’t sure how to handle himself. The last time he gave himself so freely to another ended up burning him. Emily was his first love but Y/N, Y/N was his epic love. The twinkle in her eyes welcomed him time and time again silently begging for permission. Suddenly it wasn’t just about sex and pleasure but an opportunity of redemption.

“You feel it too, right?”

Y/N pulled back from his grasp embarrassed at her newfound honesty. “Ugh, I’m fucking it up, aren’t I? I didn’t mean for things to get so intense in a fucking bathroom of all places?”

Just as she moved to hop down, Ez stopped her. His this, this life he chose was no place for a woman like Y/N. And though his heart beat victoriously in his chest, Ezekiel knew what had to done. There was no way in hell he’d allow her to morph into his fucked-up life. He wanted to shout it to the rooftops; I’m in love with you too.

He was ripping at the seams dying to scream his unprofessed love but once again denying the beast within him. His silence was enough of an answer. Y/N frowned trying to hide the quiver of her chin. Looking away, Y/N furiously blinked hoping to will her unshed tears into oblivion. Her purity and compassion were too much at risk to sacrifice.

“Y/N….”

“No, don’t Ezekiel.”

“I think we want different things, things I can’t offer you.”

The rumbles in her chest cascaded violently like waves attacking a cliff. His rejection stung like ravenous bees.

“You can but you won’t. There’s a difference! God! I fall for this shit every time. You lure me back in and just when I break through your heavily guarded walls you pull back and shoo me away. How many times do you have to remind me you don’t want me, E?”

A lone tear streaked down her cheek. Sadness swallowed her whole plummeting to an unimaginable depth. His thumb inadvertently reached for the droplet but she flinched in the nick of time. Defeat coursed through his blood. His subconscious screamed for him to speak but nothing came out. Her words seared him, his own personal brand of pain. Calm down heart.

“Tell me you feeling nothing and I’ll never ask again.”

The somber quietness remained suffocating both parties. It was then that the truth finally dawned on him like boulders falling from the sky. Sometimes the hardest battle we fight is the battle within ourselves.

“Jeez, Ez. Guess I got my answer. Next time you have one of your urges, don’t call me, ever.”

Her warm palm pressed against his pectoral lightly shoving him. The minute distance was enough to destroy him. Her rejection simmered into her movements. With her strength fast depleting, Y/N craved fresh fall air. She stopped in place looking over her sunken shoulder; “It’s sad when someone you know becomes someone you knew. Have a nice life, Reyes.”

Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free. Free to mourn the love she so tragically denied. She distracted herself to save herself. After all, how often do we get a second chance…

~~~~~

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#ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes #ez x reader #ez reyes x reader #mayans #mayans mc #fx #mayans fanfic #mayans fic #mayans x reader #mayans mc x reader #my writing #ez reyes oneshot #angst

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cipher-fresh · 3 years

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Just Out Of Reach

Posting on tumblr due to Discord's character limit, this one's a lot longer than my other ones. A prompt from @marlinspirkhall about how food on the holodeck doesn't exist once you step off it got me thinking. TW for violence, injury, blood, food, eating disorders I think (?? rather safe than sorry) and long-term distress. Thank you for the Federation gothic prompt!

It's fuzzy, you remember the ship leaving spacedock after repairs, and some of the anticipatory silence as the odd lack of Dominion ships greeted your rush toward the Bajoran sector to help recapture Deep Space Nine and the Bajoran wormhole. You had never been this far away from home, but you'd tried to steel yourself. The red alert had blared in your ears, and you don't remember much else. You look down. You're bleeding. You curse, and look around for medical supplies.

You're in a dark building, with debris strewn around. A force field makes it's presence known as a hurtling piece of Dominion ship tailwing is stopped in it's tracks from perhaps it's original destiny of destroying wherever you were. If there was a forcefield up, there must be an energy source. You find you had crash-landed here, as there's an escape pod near the fallen bulkheads. You saddle up with the materials from the escape pod, and hunt around for any available resources on whatever man-made, oxygenated building you'd been lucky enough to land in. You put your bag down, and take off your Starfleet outer shirt. You're still wearing the gray undershirt, and over it you tie the main shirt over the wound. You wish it had been an easier area to tie, like your lower leg, and press on. After a trek over fallen metal, everything from large carts, a whole shuttle, bulkheads and PADDs, you find the opposite wall, marked with a plaque designating it the Miyamoto, a mini-space station hardly the size of a neighborhood street. Some place, you scoff. It feels like a shadowy castle fallen into disrepair, with the flickering lights looking like the occasional sunbeam brightening it. Atmospheric, at least, if it wasn't going to comfortable. It feels as if you could almost hear sad music, accentuating just quite how dark the station was, cold and alone. The Miyamoto station echoes sadly, the destruction and carnage of Dominion and Federation ships making their final stand above the station feeling long off, although you could place it as happening mere hours ago. Continuing onward, you clear a path the best you can of the debris on the ground, in case you round this area again.

You see places that look like shops- the *Miyamoto*, as per it's informational plaque, was a station commissioned and controlled by Starfleet, but it had housed many Federation-aligned planets, that is to say, planets that hadn't joined the Federation for one reason or another, but remained in contact with it, politically or economically. Your journey around the station ends as you look back down at your outer shirt, wrapped around your torso wound, and it's too red with blood for comfort. You take an unfortunate, seething inhale, processing what this might mean. You have no other than the most basic medical supplies on your bag, and you're alone on a mini-space station with debris that was ripe to fall over and crush you at any time. Nobody else seems to have crashed near you. You're alone, on an at least semi-functioning, mini-space station. And you were determined to survive. The bleeding cut on your torso should be dealt with first. Can't look for food or set up a distress call if you're bleeding to death. You take a tricorder from the bag, and scan around for anything useful. It picks up gauze a few meters ahead of you. Better than your shirt, certainly. You navigate toward it with the tricorder's map, and it navigates you to a holodeck, you recognize from the doors. Gauze in the holodeck? You thought the violin music had been a symptom of a bleeding body and the brain processing your day, but no, the violin was louder. Getting closer to the holodeck, that made more sense. It was extremely lucky the program was still running. You walk inside. The inside is a gothic, turn-of-the-century sort of laboratory. Indeed, a holodeck character playing a violin spots you, and huffs.

"You're bleeding. Are you looking for my partner, Dr. Watson?"

You take a moment- oh, this was a Sherlock Holmes program. You doubt Dr. Watson could help you, but then you take a moment to think. Emergency Medical Holograms are just as holographic as Dr. Watson here, and they have helped millions of people. You're too tired to act, so you ask him, "Yes, I need a doctor. Can you get him?" Too much also eating at your mind to enjoy the program, Dr. Watson fixes you up in the flat. You wince at the old medical technology, and wish the two of them lived in a period of time with more current medicinal knowledge. - Wait. "Computer?" you say. "Change the time period to, uh, 22nd century. No, I mean, to today. 24th century. Keep Sherlock and Watson with me." The computer responds to your request, and you see the program change around you. You laugh at the mystery-solving duo's updated outfits for the 24th century, then look back at Dr. Watson. It's a little jarring how seamlessly they continue from the jump in time, but better that than their program stop working. Watson asks a replicator- a holographic replicator, which makes you laugh a little bit, for a dermal regenerator, and you get patched up. "Stick around for a cup of tea?" Watson asks. "Sherlock really wants to know why you broke into our flat." You consider it. You've heard jokes from non-Federation species when trying out holodecks for the first time, "Calories don't count on the holodeck!" Anything you eat here wouldn't sustain you, the minute you left the holodeck. You could activate this program so long as there was energy to the station, but food was a priority. Assuming the *Miyamoto* had been in a tussle just a few hours ago during your fly-over to Deep Space Nine, now was a crucial time to find genuine replicators before they went offline. You leave the holodeck. You see the gauze over your injury (kept for good measure) disappear as you exit the holodeck, but not the skin you'd grown back from the dermal regenerator. The gauze was holographic, but the stimulated skin cells and tissues were not. You follow the path set by rounding around the small, circular station, and tracing your steps back through the cleared path you made. Your injury healed, you could now look around and find something to eat. You follow around a downloaded map of the *Miyamoto* from the plaque's infochip, and hunt down all the replicators marked on the station. One by one, they're all broken, in pieces, or missing. Maybe the station was in poor shape to begin with. You take another trip around- at least you're getting plenty of exercise in, you halfheartedly cheer- and visit all the food shops. You raid the fridges, cabinets and cupboards, and still find nothing. Intending to not be disheartened, you sit down for a moment. Your hunger is suddenly made aware to you, your vision swirling. Not good, you decide. Your stomach hurts, and you try to remember the last time you ate. Breakfast on- on the *USS Halay*. Maybe tea with Dr. Watson wouldn't be so bad, you assure yourself. You have some food with the two of them, think of a new plan, then go back out there and find some food. Some water, while you're at it, too. You walk back, and almost trip over debris you swore you moved out of your path. You enter back to the holodeck, and smell the fresh air. You find Watson and Sherlock again, and you're offered a pastry you can't remember the name of. You eat, and have some tea, and you feel at peace. You're still directly aware of the stakes, you're stuck on a space station in the middle of nowhere, but you're at least still alive. And going from desperately hungry out there to the sweet scent of buttered pastries in here in a still-peaceful London before the Dominion invaded was a sense of home you'd missed. You sat down, and considered your optics. If you left now, you'd probably be just as hungry as before, but here, you could come up with a plan, and make the time before it worth it. You clued in the holographic Sherlock and Watson into it, without exposing to them they were holograms. Quite tricky, it was, but you were glad they got over

their suspicions and were just willing to help. You and the two problem-solvers looked over the schematics of the *Miyamoto*, and found from your walkaround of the station, the replicator at the Bolarian food shop was the least broken- it had gotten halfway to forming bread before it puttered out. Although not quite a chief engineer, this seemed to be your only option. You picked back up your supplies from the escape pod that you'd kept with you, and journey off to the replicator. You feel the distinct hunger pangs as soon as you leave, and almost regret leaving. Little matter. You'd already gone and done it, you might as well make it worthwhile. You get to the replicator, and try to recall your engineering training. Basic engineering design over necessary machines like replicators and transporters were required classes at the Academy, and you couldn't remember a thing from it. You open a hatch at the back and fiddle with some of the wires and steel EPS hubcaps, and put everything back into place. Not ever quite sure what to do, you feel a fog in your brain, you know you're putting a square peg in a round hole as you try to fix this. You screw things on and off, scan it, flip a switch. Closing the hatch, you hit it for good measure, and try replicating food again. It produces a gray slop of what could only technically be edible, organic material. You take your tricorder out and get a holo-scan of it. A moment of darkness in your vision, you fall to the ground. You're really feeling it. You hold a hand to your stomach, and close your eyes tight. It hurts, it does. You could make the feeling go away, if you just went back.

A deep breath, and you turned around. Just back for a second.

Desperate to get back to the holodeck, you're assured you can figure out the replicator's problem with the holo-imager scans. You get back inside, and feel the pleasant, clean air, and walk back inside. Ravenously, you scarf down the food given to you, and you can feel your mind finding clarity again. If you could find a way to fix the replicator while inside the holodeck, you'd be set. You could fix it there, and only be hungry from the minute you walked over to the replicator, no brain fog as you tried to fix it. Maybe engineers had "Don't fix things on an empty stomach" as a rule. If not, they should. You spend a few more hours there, going over the specs of the replicator, sitting in the nice flat. It's an amalgamation of every depiction of 221B ever put to screen, and all the books are real, wholly scripted ones. You chuckle, certainly sure only a man of fiction could read so many books, bookshelves stacked wall to wall. Many of them had frantically scribbled notes and writings in them. After some time, you fall asleep. You're woken up by Watson, telling you again that you need to wake up. You rub your eyes, and consider everything from the day previous. Hungry, stuck on a space station with no food, and surviving in the holodeck. This would be a lovely nightmare to wake up from, eh? Lovely, for the fact you're waking up, you joke. "-get out there and find something to eat or your body will starve. Please. The program-" You burst out from under the blanket on the couch. Dr. Watson looks at you. "Sherlock and I put together that you're on a holodeck. Incredible inventions, truthfully, but what is more important now is your life. You haven't eaten in how long? A human would starve after not eating for-"

"About a week. But without water is a different story. Three days, at most." Sherlock filled in. You swallowed. Wonderful. You look back at Watson. "Please, we're trying to help you. You need to head back out there." That's the last thing you want to do.

Neither of them were being helpful. "Look, we can't leave the holodeck. All we can do is-" "I don't care!" you yell. "I'll just-stay in here until I figure it out." The two exchanged looks with each other. Watson got closer to you. You feel small. Threatened. "You're Starfleet, right? You haven't even given us your name. How about you-" You lash out. "Computer, delete characters Sherlock and Watson." "Not possible." "Fine! Delete whatever you need to get rid of them." "Confirmed." the computer says. The two of them phase out of existence. You breathe heavily. You hope they won't be mad at you. "Computer, change scenery. Somewhere on Earth. As far away from Sherlock as possible." "Changing location to Dunedin, New Zealand." the computer replied. You stop, and catch your breath. You'd just- stay in here. For a while. Yeah.

The systems of the Miyamoto station degrade. The holodeck, over time, begins to lose critical imaging projectors. One corner of the holodeck shows the depressingly bare and black wall, the whole program not covering the entire room. You try not to mind. You sleep. If you could just- just learn how to fix the replicator....no. You have everything you need right in here. Everything....you need. You take an arduous breath. The holodeck doors have sealed shut. The imagers have stopped working. You're trapped inside. A lone Starfleet officer starves to death on a holodeck, over an agonizing three days, just as Sherlock predicted. The Miyamoto station is destroyed by the Breen a year later, unimportant and completely alone. If one listened closely, passing an unimportant, tiny little station, they may have heard faint music of a violin.

#star trek #my writing #federation gothic #uss lilac #blood #dominion war #ds9 #wasn't planning to add sherlock holmes to the mix but when I had the injury and the violin i couldn't resist

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oneoftheextras · 4 years

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Slurred Words

Aizawa x teacher!reader

masterlist | tip jar

question #14 prompt: “Should you be drinking that much?”

warnings: Alcohol consumption, sexually suggestive themes, a lot of angst and protective Aizawa

“SHOTS!” Hizashi shouted across the bar, ushering you towards him from your place on the dance floor. Nodding your head and dance-walked over to the bar where your friend waited for you.

It was very rare that the teachers of UA were able to let loose and celebrate, what you were celebrating, you didn’t know - probably the fact that no students had died this year.

Nezu had organised the night for you all to try an alleviate, with Hizashi’s help of course. There was no way you were partying without that loud mouth having a say in every decision.

He’d chosen a nice, low-key club - not too big that you got lost, but small enough that you didn’t feel distanced from everyone.

Well, some people were making a point of distancing themselves. And by people, you meant person. And by person you meant Aizawa.

“Yo, Y/N” Hizashi handed you a shot, you clinked your glass with his and you downed them together. Slamming the glasses down on the counter with a collaborative “Woo!”. “You’re keeping up pretty well” he shouted at you over the music, you smiled a goofy smile at him, you were on the edge of sober and tipsy. No doubt you would stumble over that line in about 10 minutes when the Tequila kicks in properly.

“I want to dance!” you shouted back to him, you were in a really good mood and had a tonne of energy, “Then let’s go dance” he said, “But first” he grabbed your hand, stopping you from going anywhere just yet. He ordered two more shots for you both. He drank his with insane speed, and then proceeded to drag you towards the crowd of dancing people.

You just about managed to drink your shot and place it on a nearby table before you got sucked into the whirlpool of dancing bodies.

Smiling at up Hizashi you stated the obvious, “I’m having a great time”, “I’m glad” he replied bluntly, you continued to dance with him until he leaned into your ear, “Stop me if I’m crossing a line here, but what’s the his-happening with you and Shouta?” he asked, his question took you back for a moment, not sure what he meant. You didn’t know how to answer so you just shrugged.

The truth was, you’d had the hots for him for a while. At first you thought he was just the weird member of the faculty, the one that liked being left alone. But the more you talked to him, or listened to him talking to others, the more he intrigued you.

It started out as general interest, listening to his views on the world and his opinions - which he hardly gave. Then it turned into a crush, watching the way he would command his classroom and hold all the power had you mesmerised.

It was the type of crush where your tummy would flip when you heard his name being mentioned, or butterflies would escape your heart when you saw him walking towards you in the halls.

Not to mention the way he made you feel when he was playing the role of the villain for the student’s physical exams.

Mic gave you a knowing look, raising one eyebrow. “Why?” you asked back. Sure, you and Aizawa were colleagues and you got along well, but you didn’t think anything of it, you couldn’t even use his first name the way that Mic does.

“He’s giving you some serious stink eye” he finally said and gesturing behind you with his eyes, you started to turn your head to see what he was looking at, but he span you around underneath your arm to make it seem like you were dancing. He swung your body around and made you switch places with him.

“You’ve gotta loosen up, you were about to make things hella obvious” he laughed, never stopping dancing with you. Now that you were facing the other way you could see what he meant. Aizawa was sitting at the bar, staring at you, but as soon as you made eye contact he snapped his head away and shifted his gaze to his drink.

“I didn’t think he would want to be here” you yelled to Mic, “He doesn’t, but Nezu and I organised some guards to stop anyone leaving before 11pm” you gave him an expression of disbelief and burst out laughing. It was hilarious that he had hired guards to stop literal Professional Heroes.

Unfortunately, you’d decided to laugh just as the song was changing so your chuckles echoed through the bar. This made you laugh even harder, but you tried to your best to conceal it, swaying forward and bumping into Mic. You were definitely tipsy now.

“Another drink?” you asked him in between giggles, you glanced towards the bar as that’s where your tipsy brain wanted to go, and you saw Aizawa staring at you again. Although this time he didn’t break eye contact. It actually seemed like he was getting up.

“I think we need to space drinks out a bit more for you” Hizashi said, trying to stabilise you a bit more, luckily the song had changed to a slow song so you didn’t look too out of place. You put your arms around his neck and swayed yourself to the music, smiling up at him. “You’re a cool friend, Yamada” you praised him.

“Ahem“ someone cleared their voice ”May I?” you heard them say, it was so quiet you almost barely heard it. But you would always be able to pick this voice out of a crowd.

“Be my guest” Mic said, and he unwrapped your hands from his neck for a second and then placed them back down. You were enjoying the music so much you’d closed your eyes so you could vibe.

You sighed heavily, but as you did you inhaled the most intoxicating scent, it smelled of coffee and oak wood. Feeling the aroma fill your nostrils and surround your entire being, you chuckled, knowing exactly who had their hands on your hips.

“So you’re not always grumpy” you teased opening your eyes, you were greeted by Aizawa’s grey orbs, he’d scrapped his hair back into a low bun and only a few strands of hair were framing his masculine face. “I try my best not to be” he chuckled back, you felt his laugh vibrate through his shoulders and into your arms.

You swayed with him for a while just to enjoy his company, a few of the other teachers were turning their heads to look at the two of you - most definitely more to see if THE Eraserhead was allowing himself to have fun.

Taking a chance, you pulled yourself closer to him so your chest was on his, it worked in your favour as it pushed your assets closer together. You weren’t too sure what you were trying to achieve, but you were too tipsy to care anymore.

“You have a hard outer shell you know that Aizawa” you teased, making sure you were making eye contact with him, it was very rare that he would let anyone get this close to him. You could actually see his features more clearly, and it made your heart flutter even more than it already was. His defined jaw line, the small amount of stubble he had, even the way the bags under his eyes creased when he smiled.

Wait.

He was smiling.

“God damn” you exclaimed, “You’re even hotter when you smile” you let slip. He stopped for a beat to stare at you, but carried on swaying with you, you completely missed his hesitation, but maybe you would have noticed if you weren’t so inebriated.

“I mean” you stopped dancing completely and shook your head, realising what you’d just said “I’m going to get another drink” you nervously laughed and unhooked your hands from his neck and walked towards the bar.

You really didn’t want to let go and walk away from possibly the only chance you’d ever had at being physically close to him, but you could feel your face getting redder.

Ordering two more shots, you drank the first one before the bartender had time to put it down. You stared at the second for a moment before lifting it up to your lips. Before you could allow the liquid to enter your mouth another hand put itself over yours and stopped its momentum, a little bit of the spirit sloshed out and was now running down your bottom lip.

“Should you be drinking that much?” Aizawa more said than asked. Your eyes traced up his scarred hand and followed it up to his scolding eyes, your lips still parted from your attempt to drink.

You both stood their frozen in position, was he actually expecting you to answer? You watched his eye line shift from your own orbs to your lips and your breath hitched, no doubt he felt it, his hand was too close to your mouth for him not to.

“I’m an adult” you answered flatly and pretended to nip at his hand, he quickly moved it away with a shocked expression on his face. Smirking you giggled slightly, did he seriously think you were going to bite him? Only if he asked you to - no bad drunk thoughts!

“You’re not acting like an adult” he shuffled slightly towards you, close enough for you to smell his aftershave again, as well as feel his body heat. Shot still in hand, you still hadn’t moved from your previous position, it felt like if you did then this interaction would end. “You’re acting more reckless than some of my first years” he teased, at least you thought it was teasing, you’d never seen or heard him talk like this before so it was new territory.

“Is that so?” you paused for a moment “Aizawa-sensei” you continued, finally knocking your head back and consuming what was left in your shot glass. Hearing a few low chuckles come from the man next to you, you broke eye contact.

“So, you think I’m hot?” he recalled your words and readjusted himself again, now having one hand on the bar and slightly facing you. “What of it?” you said defensively, not letting his presence push you backwards.

Letting out a small laugh “It’s not like you ever noticed me anyway” you mumbled to yourself, your bout of confidence fading. “What?” Aizawa was taken aback by your drastic change in attitude,”This is the longest conversation I think we’ve ever had” you semi-explained.

“‘Cause I never know what to say to you without making myself look like an idiot” Aizawa shocked you, was he letting down his guard? “I think of a million things to say, and a million ways to say them, and by then the moments gone” he couldn’t make eye contact with you.

You couldn’t do anything else other than stare at him as he glanced at his shoes and then back up to you, you felt your heart beating out of your chest as he scanned your face with a mixture of adoration and lust.

“I get lost in thought” he said so lowly you barely heard him, “What thoughts?” you were brave enough to ask, letting him back you up so your spine was against the bar. “About how much I want to know how your lips taste” he breathed, licking his bottom lip, and raising his free hand to brush a stray hair out of your face and behind your ear.

You leaned up towards his face slightly and then quickly stopped, you were second guessing yourself. It didn’t matter, your instigation was enough for him, he took the opportunity he had and pulled you into him - kissing you deeply.

It felt like fireworks were exploding all around you and your tummy wouldn’t stop doing somersaults. “Aizawa” you whispered in disbelief, almost inaudible.

“Shouta” he breathed, struggling to catch his breath, “Please call me Shouta” he lightly begged. “Well, Shouta” you emphasised his first name, earning a little groan from him “I would very much like to go somewhere, less public” you finished. “I would very much like that too” he agreed, kissing you again.

#aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #shouta x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #teacher!reader #mha #mha fanfiction

358 notes · View notes

barrysjumpsuit · 4 years

Text

blindsided - oc x rafe cameron (ch. 2)

me??? posting chapters two days in a row???? (who is she)

part one

word count: 3k

warnings: abuse and mentions of past abuse, cannabis use, cocaine use, mentions of sex, plot/timing holes (just dont think abt canon too much it’s pretty loose)

synopsis: christy is a lifelong resident of the outer banks. after a series of hookups with rafe cameron, kook royalty, she’s smitten. what she doesn’t know is about what her boyfriend and brother are involved in behind her back

a/n: really enjoying how this is coming along bc i’m totally just making it up as i go. ya boy jj makes an appearance in this one!! and BARRY!!!! next chapter has more plot i PROMISE

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The sun was about to set as Christy arrived home.

“Home” was a relative term. She lived in a trailer with a leaky roof, messy yard, and weird smell. Strange people she didn’t know were always there, and it was hard to truly feel at peace when she was there. The only thing that kept her coming back, especially after getting with Rafe, was her brother.

Barry truly was the only thing she had left. The two of them had always been as thick as thieves – they still were, but their own respective businesses had changed them. Christy just grew and sold a bit of weed. She made a couple hundred bucks here and there, mostly targeting tourists. Barry’s dealings were much more illegal, and all the bad things that came with selling blow naturally happened at her house.

She could hear the crackling of a fire as she rounded the corner of the trailer. Barry and a couple others sat there, whooping and hollering. “Look who finally decided to make an appearance,” she heard her brother yell. He raised a beer in the air as if to make a toast. “My favorite sister!”

“Just making sure you’re not twitched out somewhere, B,” Christy said back, not altering her path to the door. Right as she went to pull open the screen door, someone pushed it open, stumbling out of the trailer. “Excuse you.”

“Watch your mouth when you speak to me, little girl,” the man growled at her.

“I’m the one who lives here,” Christy replied flatly, not budging, and the man suddenly had her pinned to the wall of the trailer, a forearm pressing against her throat.

“Yo Luke, lay off of her!” she heard Barry call. Her hands were grabbing at Luke Maybank’s arm, her eyes forced to meet his. His pupils were blown up and delirious. “What the fuck, man!”

Barry pried Luke off of her, and Christy leaned against the cheap railing on the front steps to catch her breath. “Get the fuck out of here,” she heard Barry tell him before he turned to her. “Bro, you good? Where have you been the past few days?”

“I’m fine,” Christy said. Her heart felt like it was going to beat through her chest. Barry reached out to grab her shoulder, but she instinctively flinched away. “I’ve been staying with someone.”

She was aware of Barry watching her as she pulled open the screen door and went into the trailer. It was hot and stuffy. Inevitably, somewhere, something was growing mold, and they would have to deal with it like they had to almost every other time a storm knocked out power. It made her feel guilty as hell, knowing she was staying with Rafe in his kook mansion, while her brother was stuck here, alone, with whatever coked out friends he had with him.

After deciding there was nothing she wanted to eat, Christy made her way through the messy living room and down the hallway to her bedroom. She kept the door locked. Fishing the key out of her back pocket, she unlocked the padlock and stepped into her bedroom.

Her plants were moved hastily in front of her window, since the power knocked out the lights they normally sat under. They took up most of the space in her bedroom, and they also occupied her parent’s old bedroom. Christy couldn’t be bothered to water them; she just took off her shirt and laid on her bed, sweaty and with nothing to do.

She rolled over, pulling out an already loaded bowl and lighter from her nightstand. Pushing herself up, Christy brought the pipe to her lips and lit up, breathing deeply and bringing the smoke into her lungs. She blew out a thick cloud, almost having to cough. The greens were strong but tasted good. She took another hit, then another, before leaning back and closing her eyes.

It was almost unnerving to think about how quickly she had fallen for Rafe. They sporadically hooked up throughout the past couple years. A lot of times they were each other’s rebound. Other times, it was at parties. Despite being from the Cut, Christy was often welcome at kook parties, going where her brother wouldn’t dare going to move product. She didn’t like having a middle man. Grow, harvest, sell, consume. That’s how she liked her bud to go.

She knew Barry and Rafe had a history. But Barry has beef with a lot of people, and so did Rafe. Christy didn’t side with either. Rafe hadn’t paid Barry enough, failing to hold his end of the deal. But Barry had ripped Rafe off, knowing his family had more than enough money to repay him. It spiralled from there until they fought and beat each other an inch from death. Since then, Rafe had cleaned up his act as well as sobered up, and she hadn’t seen him at her place since. It was better that way. She didn’t have to worry about the crossover between her relationship with him and her relationship with her brother.

Barry was a shitty person. Everyone knew that. He moved more cocaine than anyone else on the island. It was impossible for him to hold onto a relationship for more than a week or two. He had a temper, and a mouth and fists to back it up. Despite this, Christy knew he was her lifeline, and she was his. Whenever they had to run errands or go anywhere on the island, they tried to go together. Safety in numbers.

Both of them had people that hated them.

Barry more so than Christy, but they both had enemies. It was just how the politics of drug dealing worked. Christy mainly targeted tourists, playing her cards smartly. In and out, one and done. She premeasured the bud into $10 bags, or as joints using cigarettes. It was a big hit. At each kegger she went to, she could usually pull two or three hundred bucks.

Christy took another hit before inspecting her pipe. A friend of hers had blown and crafted it for her birthday this past winter. It was a swirling design of pinks, yellows, and oranges. It looked like a sunset; every night, she would smoke on their west-facing dock and watch the sunset.

Except tonight. The sky was dark by the time she made her way outside. Barry was no longer by the fire, which was dying. Two of his buddies were still there, laughing at something funny only to them. Christy walked past them, down the dock and onto their little boat. She sat down next to Barry, their shoulders lightly touching on the small bench seat.

Her mind was still racing, and she lit her bowl again. “You’re not going to that kook party tonight?” Barry asked, his voice still with its disinterested tone.

“Nah. With the power out I’m not sure how much bud I’m going to able to get through this. They need light to grow.”

“I’ve been rotatin’ them in front of the windows for you. And watering them,” Barry said. She could tell he was coming down from a high he had likely been riding all day.

Christy could also tell he brought this up for a reason.

“How much short are we?” she asked quietly. “I can see if I can pick up extra shifts.”

He shook his head beside her before putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know man, but we’re short. Fuckin’ Agatha fucked us over, man. I can’t get any more for another couple weeks and I don’t have much left.”

“A lot of mine won’t be ready to harvest for a few weeks. Shit, B, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not like you were here,” he said. His words stung, and I knew he was right. “It’s not like you’re ever here anymore except to smoke pot.”

“Barry,” Christy said, trying to be as stern as possible. “I’ve been working every fucking day. Agatha scared people away, so I’m not making good tips. It’ll bounce back soon, okay? I’ll make ends meet. Every time I come home you’re just blitzed to high heaven off your own product. You’re as guilty as I am.”

Her brother’s shoulders shook with a laugh, and he wiped his nose with a forearm while she took another hit. “I suppose so. You’ve got something on your neck, by the way. Who’s that from?”

Christy stiffened and almost launched into a coughing fit, and Barry knew he caught her. He looked over at her, expecting an answer after she exhaled the smoke. “Some tourist I met the other night at a kegger. Thought he could strike a deal with me.”

“Hmmm,” Barry mused. She couldn’t tell if he was buying it or not. “You’ve gotta be careful with them tourons and kooks, never know how they’re gonna use you.”

The weed had hit her enough so that Barry’s words didn’t fully register in her brain. “They’re always up to something,” she agreed. The swaying of the boat underneath her was an odd feeling and she leaned back in the seat, throwing an arm on the back of the seat behind Barry.

The stars were brilliant on the south side of the island, with no light pollution to drown them out. Two nights ago, she and Rafe sat on the roof of the Cameron house, looking at the same sky, but the lights were so bright you could see only a handful of the stars.

It was the simplicity of being a pogue that Christy liked. She didn’t have to worry about her social life or schedule outside of work. She didn’t have to worry about her image. She didn’t have to worry about businesses or making people happy or petty things that Rafe worried about. She could do what she wanted, when she wanted.

With the sky stretching endlessly above her, she felt like she was inside a dome. Like she was in a snowglobe. Agatha was the shake, mixing everything and everyone up. Now, the snowflakes were settling into new positions. Some were unstable, perched on plastic trees or people or houses, bound to fall to the ground. Some were already on the ground, back to their original positions. Others still, small little pieces of glitter, swirled around in the liquid inside.

She didn’t want to inevitably settle back into her old life. It was too mindless and mundane. Wake up, work at The Wreck, sell weed to tourists, hook up with random people. It was repetitive. Christy wanted something with meaning and risk. What was the view like, perched on top of the tallest tree in the snowglobe? Sure, it had potential to fall back to the ground like all the other pieces of snow. But there was also potential to stay there, seeing things no one else could and experiencing something it hadn’t experienced before.

Maybe Rafe was her tree. Holding her up with supportive branches, his roots deep into the soil of Tannyhill. He was here to stay, at least for now.

Maybe it was Christy’s turn to join him.

By four in the afternoon, Christy was done with her day.

She woke up early, tending to her plants before locking up the two rooms and heading to work. The morning shifts were her favorite. Less asshole tourists and more local residents. Christy knew them well, making polite small talk with the older people and getting plenty of tips. Working at The Wreck was nice. It gave Christy a sense of anonymity, making her feel less like a pogue and more like a normal person. For her work shifts she cleaned up nicely, interacting with people who didn’t know about her relation to Barry or her side hustle.

After Christy clocked out for the afternoon after her ten hour shift, she shouldered her backpack and lazily threw her apron over one shoulder. Under her work clothes she wore her swimsuit, ready for an afternoon of surfing with Rafe and his friends.

Stepping outside into the bright sun, she saw Kiara talking with her friends. Christy liked Kiara – she was one of her closer friends, but their relationship didn’t touch the bond she had with those three boys. Christy was friendly enough with them, and she gave them a wave as she walked past.

“Hey, Christy!”

A voice called out behind her and she turned around to see JJ jog up to her. John B rolled his eyes as he left the group to follow Christy. “Yeah, JJ?” she asked.

“Hey, uh, we’re going to have a kegger at the Boneyard tonight, if you’d like to come. I’d like to do some business with you.”

“How much you want?” Christy asked, ignoring any euphemisms people often use when asking for weed. “You better claim yours now, I’m running low.”

“You and everyone else on the island,” JJ said, smiling. “Five grams?”

“You got it, I can bring it to you tonight.” Christy pulled her cigarette carton from her pocket, taking one out and lighting it. “By the way, tell your father it’s rude to assault people at their own home and my brother doesn’t want to see him again for some time.”

JJ’s face dropped. “What did he do? Did he hurt you?”

She blew out the smoke before answering. “Pinned me against a wall. Nothing that hasn’t happened before, but… B’s stressed out and it won’t be good for either of them or for us if he sees him any time soon.” Christy lowered her voice slightly. “If he needs any blow, let me know and I can be a middle man. Okay?”

“He’s a piece of shit,” JJ muttered, not answering her question.

“JJ,” Christy said sternly, and JJ’s wandering eyes returned to meet hers. “Give him my contact information. I’ll deal with it so you don’t have to. Okay?”

“He’s not your problem,” JJ said, but Christy knew she got through to him as good as she could. “Thanks, Christy. I’ll see you tonight?”

“You got it,” Christy answered, giving him a playful salute with the hand that held her cigarette. At that, they turned away from each other and she started off to where she told Rafe she would meet him to go surfing.

The cigarette gave her a slight buzz. It felt like a warm hug, enveloping her. That little bit of pep was what she needed, coming off an early morning and long shift. Pretty soon, the pavement turned into sand, and she could see several figures ahead holding surf boards.

“How was work, baby?” Rafe asked as she walked up to them. He pulled her into a kiss before she could answer. Christy’s hands rested on his bare shoulders, standing on her tiptoes in the sand to reach his lips.

“It was good,” she replied. “Glad I’m here and not there, though.”

Kelce fake gagged at her words, and Rafe rolled his eyes at him. “Fuck off, Kelce,” Rafe said, kicking sand towards him. Rafe was wearing his sea foam green board shorts, the color glowing against his tanned skin.

“He’s just jealous,” Christy cooed, walking away from Rafe to give Kelce a hug. “It’s okay Kelce, I love you too.”

“Oh wait a second, was that the L word?” Topper asked, breaking Christy and Kelce apart. Topper looked from Christy to Rafe, raising his eyebrows.

Christy looked at Rafe, who jumped in. “Sure was, Top,” he said nonchalantly. “Now can we shut the fuck up and get into the water?”

Kelce gave Christy a confused look at Rafe’s short temper, and Christy just shrugged. They had brought her board, which she left at Rafe’s house. After taking off her clothes, much to the boys’ delight, she slipped the band around her ankle and the four of them started towards the water.

It was a good evening for waves. The water was refreshing, and it was nice to do something normal after Agatha. Rafe’s idea of a date defaulted to a ride on the Druthers, as if to wow her, followed by expensive wine and sex on the boat. It was nice, and she enjoyed it, but Christy had had sex on plenty of boats and it was never her favorite thing.

Surfing with Rafe and his friends was much more up her alley. She was a good surfer, and Rafe knew it. While they were on the water, Topper and Kelce gave him shit for having his ass owned by hers. Christy countered right back, pointing out that she was also owning their asses. It gave her a small victory: something she was better at than the kooks.

They tired quickly, and Christy mentioned the kegger at the Boneyard. “Bring Sarah, it’ll be like a double date,” she told Topper, much to Kelce’s dismay. “And Kelce, look at you. You’re gorgeous, all wet and glistening and half naked. Just stand in the water like that tonight and the girls will be all over you. I’ll make it my personal mission to find you someone.”

The kooks were never one to turn down a party, especially one with easy pickings for both fights and girls. Topper called Sarah while they were walking back to Rafe’s truck; they put their boards in the bed and Christy climbed into the front seat, while Topper and Kelce crammed into the back of the cab.

“She’ll come,” Topper reported. Rafe dropped off Kelce before driving to the Cameron estate.

Topper left to find Sarah, while Rafe took Christy to his bedroom. “Can I shower?” she asked, and he nodded.

The Camerons had hot running water. Another thing she didn’t have on the Cut. It brought up those conflicting emotions again, as she remembered hearing Barry grumble about not being able to shower, which was a very non-Barry thing to complain about. Christy had insisted he use some of the distilled water she had for her plants, but he refused.

She would have to swing back home before the party tonight to get weed, both for JJ and the tourists. Not much was left – she wanted some to keep for herself, but she needed money.

Christy really didn’t want Rafe anywhere near her place.

She just had to hope Barry was out, and that no one was there, or things could get bad.

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taglist (reply, reblog, or ask to be added!!!) @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @macchiatohno @ampanonyg @hoeforpankow @jjsmentalpolaroids @drewstarkey @obbx-tings @bricksatanakinswindow

#outer banks #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey #rudy pankow #john b routledge #kiara carrera #sarah cameron

70 notes · View notes

hoodoo12 · 3 years

Text

Festival (24/30)

@beejiesbitch @turtlepated @go-commander-kim @yankyo @edosunshine @memedemonhours @monsterlovinghours @clairjohnson @saucymangos @beetlebitchywitch

Clawed hands covered hers, though his skin retained its usual palor. Beej lowered himself immediately as Carmen's body collapsed forward, tits to the ground with her ass raised opening her up in a new angle that had him crouch over her hips, belly tight to her lower back as he fucked even harder into her unbelievably tight cunt.

He panted raggedly, shaking with pleasure as his hips took on a rhythm all their own, sliding his thick length deep into her and stretching her inward. Her cries as she came made him rut even more furiously, balls battering the outer lips of her pussy and her clit with each thrust. Slitted magenta eyes watched her with possessive intensity, heavily lidded and panting against her shoulder as he held her with his mouth as well as multiple hands.

The tears and the crying were equal parts arousing and worrisome. He couldn't deny how delicious it was to see her fuck-drunk and obliterated by her pleasure . . . pleasure that he had given her. His cock throbbed madly inside her heat, and Beej pulled back on her hips in time with his thrusts, slamming his cock balls-deep into her with jarring force. Four times he managed to do this, erratically slamming his hips forward and burying his cock inside her. On the fifth inward press, he came. He'd only managed to stuff half of his length into her, which relieved him when he realized just how much of his come pumped through that thick shaft. He filled her within three gushes, the space that his cock would have taken up snugly engorged with his release.

As he clung to her, kneeling and holding her body tight against his, Beej finally released her shoulder, moaning loudly as though to match her. The gravelly growls and grunts that he'd released during his rutting dissolved into a long, staggered groan of bliss, with Beej continuing to hold Carmen in place as his cock continued to flood her. The pressure made him pull further back, though he didn't remove himself completely, tip warmed inside her.

Between her moans at each hard thrust into her, Carmen wept openly as her lover took his pleasure. Beej’s cool bulk pressed against her back, his grunts explosive in her ear. His pace increased and she clutched at the ground so not to be completely shifted forward. His grip helped stabilize her, even has he pulled her up and back as he thrust forward and if she’d had the ability, she would have reached back to grab at his thighs or hip in return. As it was, she could only form half words of begging encouragement. Pleasure had become a solid mass in her, nerve-endings exploding exponentially until they overloaded and her pussy became a bit numb.

Luckily, Beej wasn’t far behind in reaching his climax. Although just like her he liked to be buried deep in her cunt when he came, this time he was not when he toppled over the edge. At first Carmen whined in disappointment--her body demanded his come be as deep as possible in her--that was quickly overridden by the sheer amount of come he flooded her with.

She’d wanted a bull’s cock, and he graced her not only with that but also a bull’s worth of come. The amount of it filled her, stoppered by the girth of his shaft, to the point of ache. She cried out again and this time did force a hand between her and the grassed they’d crushed to hold her own belly, as if she could feel all of it in her. Beej seemed to acknowledge that and pulled his hips away, although her pussy was still stretched around the tip of his cock. That relieved some of the pressure inside her, with more room for his come. By his moans and shaking, he seemed just as delirious with bliss as she was, and she was finally able to stop her tears. She felt weak but sated underneath him.

⁂

Jessie's small mouth hung open as she panted at the feeling of his tongue, manipulated to fit inside her significantly smaller pussy. The cool of him was so different from every cock she had taken that night, it was familiar to her as him, and that made the slow cooling of her pussy even more pleasurable. It occurred to her that she hadn't cleaned herself out before allowing him to taste her. She would have worried about his response to the taste of others inside her if his skillful tongue didn't wipe every other thought from her brain.

"Yes--oh, fuck BJ baby you feel so good--" she whimpered, unable to stop herself from rocking her hips, trying to fuck herself on the slick muscle that moved so deftly inside her.

Her sensitive g-spot sent stars across her vision as he pressed against it, and every flick of the tip of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure from her navel to her chest. Her cries weren't loud, small as she was, but she didn't hold them in. Her voice wavered as she lowered one hand to grip uselessly at his tongue. She kneaded the muscle more than anything, though her intent in grabbing for it was to anchor herself to it.

With her eyes fluttering closed and her head tipped back, Jessie moaned his nickname softly and lost the fight to open her eyes to meet his gaze as she came around his tongue. It surprised her, the tension building and snapping so quickly. The pleasure was different this time, not so sharply physical as some she had experienced that night. The richness of the emotional warmth that spread through her as her walls twitched weakly around his tongue took her breath away and made her lightheaded.

Rather than the sheer electric ecstasy that normally gripped Jessie as she lost herself to climax, she felt her affection for him rush through her, radiating from her as she became aware of a sudden and very potent need to hold him.

"Gods, I love you Lawrence . . . I am so utterly yours . . ." she whimpered, looking pleadingly up at him.

Her cries and desperate futile grasping at his tongue made him grin, even if she didn’t see it. “Christ you’re the most beautiful woman here, Jessie,” BJ said in her ear, and encouraged, “I want you to come on my tongue, I want that tight cunt of yours to flood me--I want to taste so much of you--” As she writhed literally in the palm of his hand, her pleasure igniting his, his other hand stroked his cock in increasing speed and intensity. Something seemed to touch his wrist, and then the head of his cock, but he was too lost in focus on Jessie to waste energy figuring out what it might be. As her pleasure grew, so did his. Her desire to have his tongue in her was easily read, so he concentrated enough to increase its size to fit her like a real cock, although it remained limber enough to hold specific pressure on her g-spot even as it filled the rest of her pussy. His whispered encouragement continued, even as she succumbed to the bliss. Her cunt spasmed and he let her ride it out, lengthening the muscle a little so, while still inside her heat, he could bend it up to her clit and give her a little additional pleasure from it. He savored the taste of her, just as he said.

That electric spark went straight to his cock. As her contentment rippled out from her, even as she expressed how much she adored him, he groaned. Suddenly desperate, he said, “I’m gonna come, baby--you’re gonna make me come again--”

His hand moved on its own accord. “--you want me to wait? You want me to wait till we’re home and I can fill your pussy up? Oh fuck, baby--I’m gonna come--”

⁂

Kadus' words rang through Pink's ears as she basked in his gaze, legs wrapped around his upper torso and resting on his back. She exposed herself to his view willingly and without hesitation, enamored by his continued tender touch and the physically apparent desire to keep her close to him. Magenta eyes widened slightly at the words he'd used . . . no one had ever compared her to the image of a goddess, she'd never had any reason to believe herself to be that beautiful. From him, this sweet stranger who had so reverently taken to her, those words were heartwarming. She could feel herself change in response to his words, though the feeling that guided it stole her ability to see for herself.

Small, delicate vines wound around the strands of her hair, budding tiny pink flowers that matched her hair and eyes. Her pupils, visible only between the fluttering of her eyelids, had first re-formed into stars, the shapes of which then swelled to five-petalled flowers.

Her pubic hair grew slightly more lush with soft moss, sprouting a myriad of the same tiny flowers that adorned her hair. Her skin grew softer to touch, feeling similar to velvet as she continued to embody the softness and beauty she felt within herself as his fingers slipped into her.

Pink's pussy had resumed its typical depth, while her womb, infertile as it was, engulfed the thick seed he'd flooded her with. Bucking her hips, she pressed herself against his fingers, holding his hair loosely between her fingers as her eyes rolled back. Her cervix was taut, holding in his spend even as he pressed his digits into her slick cunt.

"So good, so sweet, Kadus, you're s-so-- hahh--" she whimpered, trying to gather her thoughts. She found herself unable to devise a word to complete her sentence as his touch stole the breath from her lungs and made her skin tingle pleasantly.

The change in the texture of her skin under his lips made Kadus pull back from her a bit. Watching the transformation, of tiny flowers and thick moss spout upon her, he chuckled. Her obvious enjoyment of his exploring fingers made him press them deeper into her, even as he dropped his mouth back to her neck to kiss her.

“You’re the epitome of fertility,” he murmured to her under her ear. As he moved his fingers more quickly, making sure to rub the small nub that he’d learned made her keen in a different voice, he continued, “You have shown more life than others here. Your compassion, your willingness to provide what others could not so I could celebrate this festival properly, this beautiful display you’ve created of yourself--the other participants should be ashamed they don’t welcome specters. But selfishly, I’m glad that means it’s my spend inside you, and not theirs.” Pink’s cries and the rocking of her hips against him made him lament once again he had no more human cock to fill her with right now. His cock did swell again, to the delight of the few remaining witches still nearby, but he didn’t want to ask her to go back to the ground and hold herself up for him again. He wanted to do more for her besides be a sheath for his cock.

Kadus curled his blunt fingers inside her, still observing what must feel best for her. He pulled back just a little to watch her body undulate against his hand. Her stomach still had the slightest bulge where she must be holding in his seed and he ran his free fingers over it reverently. The flowers adorning her trembled with each rock of her hips, and her cunt squeezed around his fingers. Knowing she was close, trusting she could hold herself up even if he moved her unexpectedly, without warning Kadus removed his fingers from her, took her by both hips and under her ass, and lifted her pussy to his face. He couldn’t wait to breathe in the scent of her and the greenery she’d produced, and to taste her on his tongue.

tbc . . .

#writing #fanfiction #Beetlejuice #Musical Beetlejuice #Movie Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice x OC #OC x OC #festival #rp #long fic

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mst3kproject · 4 years

Photo

The Ship of Monsters

Check me out, I’m being topical! I had another review almost finished for today, but when I saw the news I knew I had to set that aside and find a movie about life on Venus. This one is a ridiculous Mexican film starring Lorena Velazquez from Samson vs the Vampire Women (looking only slightly less like Cher) and one of those amazing cardboard robots you only get in the very worst of late 50’s and early 60’s sci-fi.

An atomic war on the planet Venus has killed off all the males, so an expedition is sent out in search of replacements, consisting of a native Venusian named Gamma, her Uranian navigator Beta, and their robot Tor. After promising the Empress that they will bring back only the most manly of men, they wander the solar system a while collecting creatures with penises before an engine problem forces them to land on Earth. The first human they meet there is Laureano Gomez, a singing cowboy with a well-earned reputation for telling tall tales. One might assume one could predict the rest of the movie from there… but then Beta turns on Gamma and reveals that her true mission all along was to conquer a planet to feed the vampires of Uranus!

I gotta say… I did not see that coming.

The Ship of Monsters is supposed to be a comedy. It’s seldom funny when it’s trying to be, although it mercifully avoids being the kind of desperately unfunny a lot of bad comedies are… possibly this is because it’s in Spanish, and by the time I’ve realized something is stupid there’s another subtitle to distract me. The jokes, such as they are, are pretty standard. Tor the robot was created by an alien race, who were aware of Earth but never bothered exploring it because they thought the inhabitants weren’t very intelligent. Laureano is in the habit of telling ridiculous stories to his drinking buddies, so of course when he claims the Earth is being invaded by space monsters they don’t believe him. That sort of thing. The movie is much funnier when it’s just showing us absurd situations, but to nobody’s surprise, The Ship of Monsters is at its funniest when it’s trying to be serious.

This hilarity comes in many forms, covering just about all the possible bases for a dirt-cheap 1960 sci-fi film. We have spaceship sets made of cardboard, covered with buttons that don’t actually press and levers conveniently placed so people can bump into them during fight scenes. We have Tor, with his tin can body that’s always a little dinged up but never in the same places, giving us clues as to what order the scenes might have been shot in. He also has wiggly spring antennae and makes a little whirring noise every time he moves. We have space babes in silver bathing suits and glittery high heels. Vampire-Beta, sporting plastic fangs that look like they came from the bottom of a cereal box, could be the female counterpart to the guy from Dracula vs Frankenstein, and the puppet used to represent her in flight is nearly as bad as the one from The Devil Bat.

The ‘monsters’ of the title are a bulging-brained Martian prince, a scaly cyclops, a spidery creature with venomous fangs, and the mobile skeleton of what appears to be a *damn worwelf (he tells us that his race has Evolved Beyond Flesh... apparently not Beyond Bones, though). The costumes are all terrible, particularly the warwulf puppet, whose backbone extends into his mouth and who has to be carried around with his feet dangling in any shot that’s not a close-up. It’s nice, though, that a little imagination went into them, and somebody gave a bit of thought to the idea that a monstrous appearance is relative. The Martian tells Beta that he admires her ambition and might even marry her if she weren’t so ugly by his planet’s standards.

At the end, naturally, this alien invasion is defeated by Laureano, his twelve-year-old brother, and a cardboard robot, while Gamma just stands around and screams. With a movie like this I expect nothing less. The denouement contains my favourite intentional joke in the whole thing, in which Gamma stays on Earth with her True Love, and Tor the robot takes his, the Jukebox, back to Venus with him! Tom Servo would have given a speech to congratulate the happy couple, and I can just see him breaking down into happy tears before he got five lines in.

(The wirwalf skeleton is not present at the climactic fight, by the way… no explanation is offered, and I strongly suspect that they broke the puppet trying. I rather enjoy this omission, because it lets me imagine him getting lost or maybe buried by an enterprising dog, and finally finding his way back to the landing site only to learn that they’ve left without him.)

I called Laureano a cowboy but he only has one cow. Her name is Lolobrijida and she is the very first time I have ever seen a movie spur a hero into action by killing his cow. She gets a proper Teenagers from Outer Space death, with her skeleton left behind propped up by metal struts like a dinosaur in a museum!

I also called him a singing cowboy, which he is – there are several songs, including one in which he tries to explain to Gamma and Beta what ‘love’ means. The songs have pleasant but forgettable Mexican pop melodies, and none of the lyrics make a whole lot of sense. Being translated over-literally from Spanish probably didn’t do them any favours (my own Spanish tops out at yo no tengo dinero), but I still can’t imagine that the What Is Love song clarified anything.

Laureano himself comes across as kind of a fool, but he’s not actually a full-on idiot, which is quite important. If he were the kind of one-dimensional ‘comedic nitwit’ embodied in characters like Dropo, or the janitor from Reptilicus, he’d be insufferable. Laureano is no genius, but he’s got personality traits besides being stupid – he cares deeply for his little brother Chuy and for his animals, and he doesn’t treat Gamma and Beta’s appearance as two women for the price of one. Very quickly he decides that Gamma is the one he loves, and he sticks to that, doing his best to let Beta down gently even when she offers to make him a king. He’s also smart enough to trick Beta into dancing with him so he can steal the device she uses to control the rocket and Tor, and to listen to Gamma when she tells him about the various monsters’ weaknesses.

Gamma and Beta, on the other hand, don’t have a lot to them besides the basic fact that Gamma is the Nice One and Beta is Evil. Gamma starts out in the story with a strong sense of duty, and it’s a bit disappointing to see her abandon that because of Tru Luv. I would have liked the ending better if she’d taken Laureano home with her so that the two of them could be the Adam and Eve of the new Venusian race. Meanwhile, Beta shows no sign of any loyalty except to herself and her own ambition. Her original mission, to secure Earth as a blood supply for the Uranians, falls by the wayside as she decides she’s going to conquer and rule the planet herself.

So The Ship of Monsters isn’t exactly a feminist manifesto, but neither is it complete misogynistic garbage like Project Moon Base. The whole premise, after all, rests on a planet of women being able to develop space travel all on their own! This is a fairly surprising plot point, because in many ‘planet of women’ movies like Fire Maidens of Outer Space or Cat Women of the Moon, the ladies need the virile Earth Men to come to them.

There’s also a little bit of actual science peeking out of the cracks. The moment for launch of the rocket from Venus is determined by when ‘the elliptical orbits coincide’. Launch timing is, indeed, a delicate art depending very much on what’s orbiting where. There’s also the moment when, trying to land on Earth, Gamma and Beta worry that the friction, combined with our oxygen-rich atmosphere, will set their ship on fire. This stuff is pretty impressive coming from a time when the moon landing was still nearly a decade away. There are even a couple of scenes in zero gravity that honestly aren’t totally terrible. I mean, I’ve seen better, but I’ve also seen much, much worse.

There’s also one weirdly prescient moment when Laureano, telling one of his silly stories in the pub, describes being surrounded by dinosaurs – only to get a laugh a moment later when he mentions that they had beautiful plumage. I’m not sure whether this is meant to be a joke in that Laureano is exaggerating an actual encounter with an angry bird into something more fearsome (I think we’re to assume that the whole story is totally made up), or whether it’s just supposed to be funny that Laureano thinks dinosaurs had feathers instead of scales. Either way, it’s the equivalent of the moon Fornax in Menace from Outer Space being so reminiscent of Io. There’s no way the writers could have known that, but it’s interesting nonetheless.

The Ship of Monsters is very cheap and very dumb, but it’s good fun for those of us who like crummy old alien invasion movies, and I recommend it to anybody in that demographic. As for actual life on Venus… I feel like a lot of the people getting excited are too young to remember when Bill Clinton told the world that we had totally found life on Mars. Humans have been discovering life on other planets for about two hundred years and every single one of those ‘discoveries’ has turned out to be either a mistake or an outright lie. We have plenty enough to panic about this year without a Venusian invasion.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the ship of monsters #cows in fridges #60s #tobor is robot spelled backwards

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xaviergalatis · 5 months

Text

I finna up my rank,

I just left the bank,,,

I pulled off in a tank,

yeah that pussy stank,

aye damn my life is cray,

yeah, that shit is so cray,

I'm too deep in the game,

I pulled up in a wraith

I feel like I'm Bruce Wayne

we are not the same,

diamonds in my chain,

yo bitch gimme brain,

I am way too geek

diamonds on my teeth,

all my hoes is geek,

all my hoes on fleek,

your hoe she a freak,

I beat on a leash

blue print that just leak

I just reached my peak,

the 808 it go vibrate,

water on my neck ,

I feel rehydrate,

I'm on Face Time

I just hit the face

somewhere in the hills,

deep off in a maze,

in a Bentley wraif ,

I had to relocate

all in your girl mouth,

I feel like Colgate

I beat the pussy up

till the pussy cremate

sorry for the wait

Im from outer space

you know I'm moving weight

I fucked your hoe , I'm straight

#lyrics #.txt #2024 #4 #April #musicdiary #photos #files #ssd #4/15/2024 #15th

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asphora · 4 years

Text

02. Rose-tinted | hvc

a non-sequential accounting of pivotal moments in yours and Hansol’s relationship. Love is a wonderful thing, but for all it’s tenderness, you learn that it doesn’t come without it’s struggles. But this is worth it; Hansol is worth it, right?

wc: 10385 | fluff, angst, f!reader, modified idol!verse, cursing, slight allusions to smut, series, cliff hanger, best friends to lovers

soulmate(ish) au

a/n: part 2 in my Technicolor series woohoo! Again, I know it’s hella fuckin long, even longer than the last ones, but I just had to huhu I hope you guys like it! Lemme know what you think or not, it’s all good kthanksbyyeeeee

01 . 02 . 03 . 04

It’s late, and you and Hansol are in bed at his apartment. He is on his side of the bed that you’ve now grown accustomed to sharing; he is already lying down, head on his pillow as he quietly tinkers with his phone. You are on your side, slightly higher up that him with your back against the headboard and a book in hand, quietly letting the words on the page lull you to sleep, when for some inexplicable reason, his silver hair catches your attention. It’s messy and longer now, sticking up in strange places and revealing the black of his roots that have already started to show as they grew out.

Your eyes trail down to his that are oblivious and trained onto a game on his phone, his lashes so long they’re practically brushing the soft skin of his cheeks. His lips are a soft shade of pink, slightly parted, a biproduct of Hansol’s laser focus. Your eyes trace the line of his jaw – sharp but delicate all the same – that would often clench in frustration and relax into softer smiles when he saw you, the habitual action of the muscle there allowing you to read his moods without so much as a word. He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs slightly, and you almost physically feel yourself salivate at the involuntary motion. Stopping your racing thoughts, your eyes trail the skin of his neck down to the chain that hung around his neck. Hansol wasn’t a vain man, only wearing things with meaning and letting his fashion simply be whatever he wanted it to be. Even now, when he had color you weren’t surprised by the strange combinations he’d choose, often matching clothes as if he didn’t have the sight.

You watch the simple chain reflect the light, kissing the delicate angles of the dips in his collar bone. Hands longing to feel his skin, you contemplate doing the same, but quickly brush the thought off; it wasn’t the time for that right now. Your eyes wander lower to the soft skin revealed by undone buttons of sleeping shirt, and your hands twitch longing to touch milky and supple skin there. That’s when he notices you, eyes boring into his chest so intently that he could practically feel your stare. Locking his phone and discarding it onto the bed slowly, so as not to break your focus, he watches you, a gummy smile forming the more he watches how absolutely enchanted you are by him.

“Like what you see?” He teases, his tone completely derailing your train of thought and bringing it to an embarrassing halt.

You laugh, wanting to fire back a witty quip. Deciding against it, you feel yourself melt at the sight of his smile which you returned with a soft sigh. The sound makes him stop a little. Usually, you would have rebuked him easily. Instead, you were just silently smiling at him.

"Are you okay, babe?" His hands move to wrap around your waist and in one fell swoop, the two of you rearrange yourselves with such ease, like puzzle pieces fitting each other's hold. With his head now resting on your bicep, the rest of your arm wraps around his shoulder. Cradling him like this, you found the position equally adorable and amusing as he hugged himself to you like a child holding themselves close to their mother.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Sol.” You reassure him, your fingers playing with his hair and softly combing the growing tresses away from his face to the back of his ear.

His eyes flutter closed at the contact, melting into the calming touch of your hand. He hums in appreciation as you gently rub his scalp with the pads of your fingers. With closed eyes, he reaches across you for your free hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

"What's on your mind?" He coos your name with his eyes still closed.

“Hmmm, nothing much,” you watch him appreciatively, pleased to be getting an even closer view, “just you.”

“What about me? Can’t believe how you ended up with such a catch?”

"Hmph, barely," you chuckle, and he does too, "I was just looking at you and thinking about you. There's nothing really going on in my head."

He hums in acknowledgment, nodding slightly and slowly before replying with a knowing, "I love you, too."

Him being able to read you like an open book, even with his eyes closed, makes you smile, thinking about just how lucky you are to have him. “For as long as I can.” You add to his statement, knowing full well that he understands what you mean.

“What do you think death looks like, Sol?” He opens his eyes to look up at you and meet your gaze.

“Hmmm,” He ponders for a moment, animatedly furrowing his brows, “maybe like a dream, and when we wake up, we’re someone new? Like, us, but different.”

“So basically, like a reincarnation?” You tease his lack of eloquence with a slight giggle.

He flashes you an appreciative gummy smile, “took the words right outta my mouth, baby. This is why you’re the brains and I’m the charm.”

“You mean brawns?”

“Nope, you’re the brains and I’m the charm,” he reiterates. “You and I both know I got guns for days, but that my best quality is my charming personality.”

You roll your eyes in amusement, “oh yes, so charming.”

“Why the sudden question?” His tone isn’t pushy, just actually curious as he goes back to closing his eyes to revel in your touch.

“No reason, just something off the top of my head.” You explain nonchalantly, “Do you think we’ve met before, in other lives I mean? Since you believe in reincarnation.”

“Definitely. A hundred percent, yes.” He replies, without even a second to spare for thought.

“Maybe I was the handsome pilot and you were the mysterious attractive passenger. Our eyes probably met while you were getting off and that was that.” He explains matter-of-factly.

“Ah, and I was on my way home to my husband and family?” You tease, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he continues to recount the various fantasies wherein you two might’ve met.

“Yeah, sure. Or maybe we met at a party, where you were lost and I helped you out, we’d probably talked for a while before parting ways.”

He laughs before continuing, “I’m sure there’s a universe out there, or another life where we have two kids—names can be your pick since you know I’m shit at that—and we live in a simple house, in a quiet town, and those versions of us don’t even know we’re having this conversation right now.”

“That version of you must be really fucking smart for me to have married him.” You play along.

“Nah, he tricked you just like in this lifetime.” He sticks out his tongue at you and you nudge him, laughing.

“I bet there are lifetimes where we don’t even meet.” You muse and he simply hums in agreement.

“Sign me up for that shit ‘cause I don’t even know what I got myself into in this one.” You joke and he laughs loudly, his mouth widening so wide it almost seems exaggerated, but you know him and this is just how he was. He opened his eyes, expression suddenly completely deadpan, chocolate irises staring you down.

“Is there something you wanna tell me about? Like seriously?” His question only makes you laugh along with him when he finally cracks, unable to keep a straight face.

After a few moments of silence, you press your lips to the top of his head, a rare moment of tenderness in your relationship that had barely changed since becoming official almost a year ago.

“I’m glad I met you in this one,” you whisper into his hair.

"Me too," he drawls out softly and you can tell by the sound that he's already half asleep. You shut the bedside lamp and lower yourself and your head to your pillow, nestling in his warmth.

As you drift to sleep, you hear him murmur in his sleep, “I love you, you fuckin’ loser.”

Half-asleep, you reply, “I love you too, Hansol.”

* * *

The tiny café bar is a completely different scene than you remember; where there used to be tables spread out evenly throughout the main space in front of the stage, they were now pushed to the sides of the room to accommodate the throngs of people coming in to watch tonight’s performance.

You’re 15 minutes early. Even though Hansol had told you it would be fine to come at exactly seven when the show would start since his set wasn’t until around 7:30, you knew better than to come on time and end up stuck in line.

Sat along the bar at the far back of the room, you sip on your martini as you watch people slowly trickle into the tiny venue, when a flash of familiar silver hair peaks out one of the doors near the stage. He looks around the room, his eyes landing immediately on you, able to find you immediately despite the growing crowd.

You had never seen Hansol like this before.

His hair which he rarely ever bothered styling let alone comb, was now perfectly set, parted on one side, his bangs resting naturally on the rest of his face, a sliver of his forehead peeking through. His face was fully made up, some smokey make-up lining the outer corners of his eyes, making his chocolate irises pop even more. You feel your jaw slightly unhinge, your lips parting as you drink in the sight of him; Hansol had always been beautiful to you, but somehow in the dim yellow lighting of the bar, his make-up catching the light perfectly, it made him look deliciously otherworldly and even dangerous. Suddenly you felt like prey under his piercing gaze.

The corners of his mouth shift into a soft smirk in recognition. Right away, he can tell the magnified effect he has on you from the way you stare him down as though he is an oasis in the desert, and before you can even compose yourself enough to get up to go to him, he's already taking long purposeful strides over to where you're seated. It knocks the breath out of your lungs.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He says cheekily, one arm leaning onto counter, while the other reaches for the back of your seat, efficiently cornering you – not that you had any real qualms about it – taking advantage of your initial shock.

Hearing his words, you immediately recognize the dork that is none other than your precious Hansol underneath his contrasting outer appearance. You giggle at the little charade he’s pulling and return his playful smile, quickly regaining your composure.

“I don’t know,” you pretend to ponder his offer, “I’m waiting for my boyfriend. He’s one of tonight’s performers and I don’t think he’d appreciate it.”

“Oh,” his eyes widen in mock surprise, his mouth exaggeratedly forming the syllable, “you have a boyfriend? Well, he’s a really lucky guy then.”

He eyes you up and down, pretending to hit on you, but genuinely appreciating the way the off-shoulder sweetheart neckline of your black dress compliments you, never having seen you in that particular dress before. It wasn't every day that he got to see you all dolled up, especially when it was just for him and his performance, and even more when you looked so good he could ravish you right then and there.

“Well, I’m a really lucky girl to have him.” You smirk, shrugging a bare shoulder at him and you see the way his eyes follow the exposed skin intently, his mouth practically watering at the sight.

“Nah baby,” he drops the act, placing gentle hands on the skin of your neck and moving towards you for a kiss.

“I’m the one who’s lucky.” He murmurs the words against your lips in between kisses and it makes you smile against his.

Unwillingly, you pull away, not wanting to ruin his make-up with your kisses. You shift backward on your seat to look at him, noticing a tiny smudge in the lipstick of his lower lip. You tell him not to move as you carefully take his face between your hands and press your thumb to the smudge.

What should be a rather simple task for such a small amount of excess lipstick, proves to be difficult as Hansol refuses to stand still, insistently trying to catch your thumb either in between his teeth or in soft butterfly kisses. It’s only when there’s a cough that comes from your side and Hansol looks slightly up, distracted by the arrival, that you finally manage to erase any trace of the color.

“Still very much in love and mushy, I see.” You immediately recognize the voice to be Mingyu and you look up at him to see all 12 boys dressed nicer than usual, happily greeting both you and Hansol.

When it's time for Hansol to go back and prepare for his set, he sweetly kisses your temple. He pats the shoulders of both Mingyu and Minghao who are seated closest to you on the bar, motioning to you, as he says, "take care of my girl." Then gives you an enthusiastic wink before heading off in the same direction his producer disappears.

When it’s Hansol’s turn, the night is still fairly young. So, while the crowd is pumped and excited for the rest of the show, they are a mass of chattering bodies, only half paying attention. Once he starts though, his perfect English starting his rap and the unique treble of his voice piercing through the room, he quickly has everyone's attention.

It was the first time you’d ever seen him perform, let alone heard him rap in a proper performance setting. It would have been a gross understatement to say that he was utterly enthralling; gone was the dorky, adorable boy you knew, replaced on stage by confidence and swagger that seemed magnified by the exhilaration on stage, his presence washing over the room like a tidal wave. He was everything you knew and loved about Hansol, but somehow different, greater, and larger than life. On stage, he was someone that shone too brightly and authentically for this world. You had no words as you watched him, pride bubbling up in your chest and spilling out of your eyes in the form of tears. Just like you, everyone in the crowded bar is entranced by the words that flowed effortlessly from him, never missing a beat, and seemingly never running out of breath or losing energy.

“Aw, don’t cry, y/n.” Minghao soothes, patting your head kindly. If you hadn’t already been so close with everyone, you might’ve been embarrassed to be caught getting emotional, but these boys have seen you and Hansol through everything. He flashes you a sweet and understanding smile and you chuckle under your breath as you expertly dab the moisture out of your eyes.

In typical Hansol-fashion, there are multiple curse words littered throughout his rap, but it only serves to stimulate the crowd further. Even more so when he starts jumping, banging his head to the upbeat riff of the music. In the crowd, you can see people jumping and dancing along with him, and you're so proud that you almost want to join them, his energy and confidence undeniably contagious.

Down to the last verse of his song, he keeps his energy high. He’s a sweaty mess, his make-up trickling down his face, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His smirk is still just as captivating as ever, drawing the audience in, and his bravado unparalleled and unreachable. At this point, you’re full of emotion, but well past crying. Instead, you’re jiving effortlessly to the music, savoring the way the sounds of the music and his voice were making you feel.

Then you see it; his eyes locked onto you as if calling you out, mesmerizing you completely with just one look. Knowing perfectly well that he's gotten your attention, he gives you a subtle wink, keeping his gaze focused on you as he gets out the last chorus. Like a secret message that travels past the unknowing crowd and straight to your chest, his look is one you recognize right away: I love you.

Suddenly, the color in the room feels more vibrant despite the dim lighting; the beat is thrumming louder in your ears, and his voice singing above the music seems to overtake your senses until there's nothing and no one else but him. Watching him do what he was born to, you had never been prouder and more enamored with him than at that moment. Holding his gaze, you stand from your seat, pressing a kiss to your palm, tossing it enthusiastically at him.

The gesture surprises him, his eyes widening, and before he can even register his actions, his arm flashes out and reaches up to quickly catch your kiss as if it was a palpable object flying towards him. For a moment, his mask slips, and the charismatic and mysterious stage persona, Vernon, falls away. His cool expression melts and he breaks out into a beaming smile, eyes flooding with affection and softening into crescent moons, revealing the beloved bright puppy-dog of a boy that belonged to only you, Hansol.

Never in your life had you ever seen him glow the way he was now.

When he rejoins the rest of the group, the boys are the first to welcome him back, congratulating him loudly with hugs and high-fives. He moves over to you, standing next to you at the bar and resuming his spot from earlier, leaning over you. This time though, he’s sweaty and out of breath. His silk dress-shirt clings to his skin with sweat dripping down his face, but you don’t care. You wrap your arms around him eagerly, pulling him close.

“Baby, I’m sweaty, you’ll ruin your dress.” He chuckles, whining in protest, but his body betrays him, melting into your touch and wrapping his arms at your waist.

“I don’t care.” You kiss his damp, make-up stained cheek. “I am so fucking proud of you.”

"Bet your boyfriend couldn't do what I just did." He says teasingly, wriggling his eyebrows and recalling the joke from earlier.

You tilt your head back in laughter, moving your hands to his face. You push away the silver strands of hair sticking to his damp skin, no longer worried about ruining his make-up. You move closer, your breath at the shell of his ear giving him goosebumps. You whisper, "Sorry to break it to you, stupid, but you are my boyfriend.”

Those words alone are enough to have him erupting in booming laughter and you watch his face light up as he clutches his stomach, trying to calm himself down. As hot Vernon was, and as amazing as his presence was, you much preferred this scene in front of you; the beautiful, expressive, genuine, and all too familiar laughter of Hansol.

“Okay, that’s enough, love-birds!” Jeonghan hollers, effectively popping the bubble of your tender moment. The older male wraps his arms around both of your shoulders, sitting Hansol down in between you and him, and handing you each a shot.

"A toast,” Jeonghan calls out, raising a shot glass and everyone joining in the toast, raising their own, "to Vernon's first-ever album, and him finally losing his virginity!"

All the other boys shout and cheer boisterously, clinking their glasses together, sloshing the transparent liquid around, before downing their drinks.

"Congratulations on not being a virgin anymore, babe!" You follow suit after clinking your shot glass with theirs and Hansol's. Once the burning liquid goes down completely, you cheer loudly along with the others, kissing your boyfriend's now rosy cheeks.

“Fuck you, y/n.” He laughs despite his humiliation.

“You did, baby, that’s why we’re celebrating!” You rebuke, and if he hadn’t already been utterly mortified, he was now. The redness in his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears and his shot glass, still full of liquor, remained raised mid-way, seemingly forgotten in all the chaos that was his friends and girlfriend ganging-up on him.

* * *

"You said you would call two hours ago?" The words are phrased like a question, but the drop in your voice makes it clear to Hansol – if your downcast eyes and saddened expression hadn't been indication enough – that this time you’re not interested in the answer.

He watches you on the screen of his phone as you bite down on your lower lip and gnaw on the sensitive skin there, inhaling deeply as you wait for what he has to say for himself. He can tell easily that you’re trying desperately to stop the angry tears that are threatening to spill and at that moment, he wishes more than anything that he was beside to you press his thumb to your lips to remind you to stop biting. It makes his heart drop into his stomach, making the contents of lunch do somersaults, threatening to spill out in the form of vomit.

You knew there was no point in fighting or arguing, especially when he was miles away and busy with his tour and all his shows. But you couldn’t help being disappointed. You were constantly waiting for him, rearranging your sleep and work schedules for even just a glimpse of him, while it seemed like he was perfectly fine away from you. While the emptiness in your shared apartment only magnified and reminded you of the distance between you, it seemed the new people and places he was meeting and experiencing filled it for him.

"I'm so sorry, y/n." He tells you almost immediately, his voice is soft and audibly exhausted. After almost two years together, and nearly four being your best friend, Hansol knew better than anyone else what you needed the most right now. More than his excuses or justifications, even if he had a good reason, all you wanted was to know that he was sorry.

You can tell by the way he fidgets on the screen, his eyes quickly darting to the ground then back up at you, that it’s taking everything in him to keep from looking away in shame. You’re thankful for the effort as he tries his best to meet your eyes, his apology pouring out slowly and sincerely from his lips.

It had been more than a week since the two of you had last spoken or even seen each other over facetime. Yes, there were messages here and there. Replies and updates sent with distracted, disconnect and seemingly rushed fingers; good mornings and good nights spread out between all the wrong hours of each other’s days thanks to the time difference; pictures of random things that though beautiful, (like buildings, sunsets, concert halls where he’d perform and pictures of Hansol smiling and enjoying in groups and crowds of people you didn’t even know) felt like empty fillers for absent conversation, and only served as reminders of just how tangible the distance was becoming between the two of you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d manage to exchange ‘I love you’ messages, but even those felt hollow without his voice to make them more than just a cluster of letters pieced together on a screen.

It wasn't just the time difference though. With all the work you were both doing, you with your manuscripts, and meetings; him with his tour, appearances, and the constant need to network at parties, a common time was just something that seemed to evade you both. Each time the two of you managed to agree on a time, promising to call, your plans ended up consistently ruined by something seemingly more important; extended practices, last-minute shows, last-minute meetings, falling asleep waiting.

Suddenly it felt like the more effort either of you put into trying to catch each other, the more elusive the other became. Like trying to catch a train and arriving at the platform minutes earlier, only to realize you had been waiting on the wrong side. You watch your train stop across you on the opposite platform, so unbearably close, but utterly unreachable.

Only this time, there was no next train coming. More and more it was starting to feel like you had both just been keeping each other waiting for something that wasn't coming.

“I just miss you so much, Sol.” You finally crack. Like a dam that was only one blow away from bursting at the seams, you felt your resolve break. You could no longer pretend that this wasn’t taking as much out of you as it was, and it seemed like all the struggles of this these past months had compounded itself into one single blow wrapped up in the single syllable of his name.

Your voice cracks, a sob choking out of your throat, causing a strangled cry right as you say his name; it was a sound he'd never heard from you before. Like a thunderstorm that wracks your chest, he watches you quiver as you bury your face in your hands. As though it was painful to even think of him, or say his name, let alone look at him at this moment.

It broke him.

He ached to touch you, to wipe the tears from your face and pull you into a hug, to feel your arms around him again and reassure you that this was only a temporary struggle, but he couldn’t. Even as you were right there in front of him, there was nothing he could do to actually reach you, and it had reached the point where words barely meant anything anymore.

“I’m sorry, baby, please…” He doesn’t know what he’s pleading for – maybe for you to stop crying, or not to leave him? Whatever it is, his voice betrays the emotion that is unreadable on his face in the dim lighting of the moving vehicle driving him back to his hotel, and he feels the tears start to well up and seep out of his eyes.

Looking up from your tears, you catch a glimpse of his tears, glimmering slightly in the inconsistent beat of the streetlights as his car passed them. You had never seen Hansol cry before.

“I miss you too,” he says, no longer trying to hide the tremor in his voice, “so, so much. You don’t even know.”

He had been struggling too, you realize. Hansol had never been the type to share his worries. While you'd been caught up missing him, thinking that he was lucky to be the one in a different country filled with wonderful distractions, you hadn't thought that maybe he was hurting too.

“I know it’s hard, but we’ll be okay.” You can hear him sniffle from the other end of the line. As sad as it is, the sound makes you smile, your shoulders softening and the sobs calming down.

“I’ll be home soon, and everything will be okay.” You could hear the conviction despite the shake in his voice, completely sure of every single word he was saying.

"Everything will be okay." You repeat his words to him, hoping they also offer him some form of comfort, and in hushed whispers, the two of you repeat the words to each other, a quiet mantra of reassurance, but also a promise. That the two of you would survive this, and anything else, together.

* * *

Within the first thirty minutes of meeting his family, you’re absolutely, a hundred percent enamored. They step out of the living room to prepare dinner, giving you and Hansol some privacy on the couch. When you're quite sure they're completely out of earshot, you hook your arms around the back of Hansol's neck, pulling him into a hug with the brightest smile he'd ever seen on you.

For the first time in the year he’s been dating you, the roles were reversed. There you were, animatedly giggling and pressing what felt like a million kisses face. In tur,n making him laugh unabashedly, despite his family in the next room. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. Not enough for his liking, but just enough that it would be acceptable in his childhood home and enough to have a better vantage point for catching your fervent kisses.

“Babe,” he laughs, trying his best to keep up with your kisses. Some meeting his lips, while others he completely misses, landing elsewhere – not that he was complaining.

"I love them." You tell him and he can't help but return your beam, flashing you his signature gummy smile with his eyes forming into crescent moons, consumed by his happiness to the point they looked closed.

"I'm glad you do, baby," he says, leaning in for another kiss, this one less frantic than the previous ones. Instead, it's soft but purposeful, determined to relay with this one simple gesture the fluttering of the butterflies in his stomach and the quivering of his heart: I love you.

You return the intimate action with just as much tenderness. He doesn’t say it, but you feel it clear as day, and so you caress his face with your hands, thumbs rubbing soft circles into his cheeks. You reply, your answer hidden in the space where yours and his lips meet: I love you, too.

“They love you too, you know?” He whispers when the two of you pull apart, loosening his grip, but keeping his arm around your waist.

“You think so?”

“Hell, yeah.” He’s so quick to respond that it relaxes your shoulders that you hadn’t known were tense and exhaling a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“What the heck’s not to like?” He fluffs you up, knowing perfectly well how to boost your confidence and comfort you all in one sentence.

You look at him, examining his expression, brows furrowed in such sincere astonishment and outrage as if he couldn't fathom how someone could not like everything about you or even find something to dislike. The exaggeration is so serious that you can't help but laugh, completely forgetting what you were even worried about.

Resting your temple on his shoulder, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers, something you two didn’t usually do, but when you did, it was a quiet intimate gesture. After a few seconds of silence, you pipe up, finally verbalizing the initial thought that had made you so overjoyed in the first place.

“You think your parents would wanna adopt me?”

Hansol looks at you with a raised brow, lips puckered in confusion then laughing at the outrageousness of your request, “What the fuck, even?”

* * *

The two of you are on the couch in Hansol’s apartment – practically yours too at this point if the spare key he’d given you was any indication. But since the both of you were trying to keep it low-key, no one knew just how frequent you’d been sleeping over, let alone just what the two of you had been up to during your rather frequent and lengthy sleepovers.

Hansol is doing his usual lazy Sunday channel surfing, his eyes intently trained on the random shows that flashed on the screen. You, on the other hand, were working on a manuscript that was due at the end of this month, furiously typing away at the laptop conveniently set on your lap while your legs stretched out comfortably across his lap; his hand casually placed on your one of your knees, lovingly rubbing circles into the skin there.

“What’s that fucking word, goddammit.” You curse under your breath, pressing the tip of your thumb to your teeth and biting down on it hard, a bad habit that you’d developed to cope with moments of stress.

Without even batting an eyelash or even ungluing his eyes from the screen, Hansol absentmindedly reaches out, his hand fumbling and missing yours in the first few tries. Third time’s the charm, he manages to finally find the hand you have pressed into your mouth and gently pull it away from your bite.

“Don’t bite, baby, you’ll hurt yourself.” The words slip so lazily from his mouth, that he’s practically mumbling them. If you hadn’t known how he when he got distracted watching TV, you probably wouldn’t have even realized he’d said anything coherent.

The sentiment is so tender, so natural, and automatic to him that it makes your chest tight. You look up from your work to just look at Hansol. Admittedly, you did this far too often than you would ever confess; just watching him. Not because he was beautiful – which he undeniably was – not because you couldn't believe he was real, but you couldn't believe he was truly here with you.

Quietly, you push your laptop off you and onto the couch, careful not to call his attention, not wanting to get caught staring. You watch him; the way his chest peeked out from under the v-neckline of his shirt, its subtle rise and fall, the way his mouth opened and closed unconsciously, how his jaw would clench in reaction to the scenes on the television, and his slim fingers rubbing absentminded patterns onto the skin of your knees and calves.

Despite wanting to admire him for longer, you give in to the greater desire to reach out to him and stroke his hair, gently hooking a loose strand behind his ear and affectionately caressing his cheek. He hums in response and approval, leaning into your touch to face you with a serene expression on his face, the tiniest smile playing on the edges of his lips.

“Tired, baby?”

You shake your head in response, pulling yourself up, shifting so that you were sitting on his lap, straddling him. You put your hands on either side of his neck and he rests his head against the back of the couch to look up at your face which is now slightly higher than his, his smile soft and relaxed but inviting.

"Of you? Never, Sol. I could never." You press your lips to his, your hair falling past your shoulders and creating a curtain around the two of you. He leans up to meet your lips half-way. His hand moves up to your face, brushing your hair away, to caress your cheek. Bringing you closer and deepening the kiss, while his other hand snakes up your thigh to your hip, squeezing you there.

When the two of you pull apart some few seconds later, Hansol's eyes are no longer soft and languid. Instead, they were warm and wanting, shifting between your eyes and lips hungrily. As if contemplating if he should take you right then and there and steal the breath from your lips. Where his calm smile once was, his lips are parted, letting out shallow exhales.

You make the first move, locking your lips with his. He returns your fervor just as passionately, pulling you flush against him by the hips until there isn’t a crevice between the two of you that isn’t touching. His hands are rough and demanding, but you like his harshness as they trail down to the backs of your thighs, lifting you, and bringing you up along with him as he stands, murmuring something about heading to the bedroom as he kissed feverishly down your neck.

You can only giggle in response, arm wrapped securely around his shoulders and a hand threaded through his silver hair.

* * *

“Sometimes, you’re here, but it feels like you’re not.” You thought he would be surprised by your words, but as he sits on the couch across from you, he only nods, listening without a single hint of shock on his features.

"I'm sorry. It's just been so busy with the new album and the rehearsals, planning, and everything…" He trails off, knowing full well that you aren't interested in his excuses or his reasons, but your expression is soft as you nod, listening to him.

Your eyes meet and your irises are soft and understanding, “I know,” you sigh, “I know you’ve been busy but I–I just…” You don't know how to say the words; if you say them now, it will be an admission of weakness, a chink in the armor of yours, and Hansol's relationship that had always seemed so impenetrable.

Until now.

“It’s just that ever since you got back from your tour in America, you feel different.” The words are soft and barely above a whisper as you say them; they feel like a confession you aren’t ready to give. But you know you have to if you want to work it out, however it doesn’t make it any easier to say.

“Things were great when I got back,” his tone is so calm that it sounds almost like a suggestion instead of a defense. “I mean, those first few weeks they gave me to rest, those were really good.”

“Yeah, I guess they were.” You seem only half convinced. He was right, but deep down you also couldn’t shake the feeling that something in the foundations of your dynamic had shifted.

“Sometimes, I feel like I have to choose between you and my music, and I don’t want to have to choose.”

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat at his words. You understood exactly what he meant; it had been good for those first two weeks. It was only recently when he'd been spending more late hours, entire days and nights at the studio preparing for his upcoming album, that you’d become more restless.

Before you can reply to apologize, he speaks first, “but it’s okay. I know me being gone was hard on you.”

“It was hard on both of us, Sol. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be asking so much that you feel like you have to choose between the things you love most.” At your reply, he takes your hands that are folded across your lap and he rubs soft patterns into your knuckles. Smiling, he brings them to his lips and presses soft kisses there, one on each before intertwining your fingers with his.

“I’m really glad you told me though, I mean, I know it’s hard, I know I’m – um, not the easiest when it comes to talking about things like this, but thanks,” he clears his throat, masking the emotion in a cough, “for telling me.”

Finally, he looks up from your hands and meets your teary-eyed gaze. “I know I’m not an expert at being a boyfriend, but I am still your best friend, so even if it’s hard, I’m happy you told me.”

Before he can say more, you quickly interject, "I love you." The words spill out of you in a rushed exhale and it doesn't help that you were in tears already.

“I love you, Hansol.” You repeat, firmer and clearer this time. You watch him tilt his head sideways, processing your words before exhaling in a light chuckle of relief. This time it’s your turn to pull his hands close and press a kiss to the soft skin there. You let your lips linger for a moment, some of your tears falling onto his hands.

He shifts his hands, changing the position to cup your face in a loving caress, tilting your jaw so you can meet his eyes, “I love you, too. For as long as I can.”

“Everything will be okay.” You say it first, the words that you know will reassure you both that you’d get through this. Hansol’s eyes light up in recognition and he nods, pulling you by the nape into a warm hug.

* * *

“Sol, are you here? I’m home, baby.” You call out into the apartment as you enter, your feet pushing the front door open, keys jangling from one hand, the other full of groceries.

Like clockwork, he comes out of your bedroom to welcome you home, a bright smile on his face. Upon seeing your somewhat haphazard, but still lovely state, he hurries to take the bags from your hands and relieve you of the weight.

“You went to the grocery?” He asks, setting the bags onto the counter and giving you a confused look, “I thought you and Sofia had a date today?”

“Yeah, we did.” You reply, helping him unpack. “We went for lunch after the movie, then groceries.”

Ever since you'd met his family six months ago, you and his sister were inseparable; meeting every month for dates that would last entire days, some even resulting in sleepovers at the Choi house (without Hansol, much to his dismay). It was an understatement that the two of you adored each other. While you often helped her with her homework and general teenage concerns, she often talked with you about books or songs you liked, giving you the female companionship you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

It wasn't that you didn't love all the boys to bits; you had lots of common interests with them and could even spend countless days talking to each one about various meaningful topics. They were always so sweet and entertaining, and it had always been apparent that they had adored you just as much, but there was just something different about talking to another female – even if it was oftentimes her brother at the center of your discussions – something that felt warm, familiar and comfortable.

“You two are weird.” Hansol muses. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re dating my sister and not me.”

“Honestly, I’d date your sister. She’s great.” You tease, playing along. He laughs at the sentiment as he, transfers oranges from the bag to a fruit bowl, setting it onto the table.

“But,” hopping over, you startle him by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close, “you’re the only one I want to do this with.”

Stepping onto your tiptoes, you press a kiss to his lips, and he bends down, arms wrapping around your waist as he leans down to return the gesture.

When you pull apart, arms still encircling each other, he smiles your favorite kind of smile and presses a kiss to your forehead, "I'm glad you didn't decide to sleepover at our house today, you spend way too much time with Sofia.”

You laugh, tipping your head back and falling backward with your full weight, knowing full well that Hansol's sturdy arms will catch you with ease, pulling you to his chest.

“Hansol Choi!” You feign shock, “Is that jealousy I hear in your voice? Are you actually jealous?”

“No way, loser.” He scoffs, setting you upright and unwrapping himself from you and walking towards his phone on the coffee table. From the side, you can see that a slight rosiness has spread across his cheeks and you giggle to yourself in pride that you’ve finally won a round in this back and forth you two had going.

“I can’t even believe she wants to babysit you, free of charge too.” He calls over his shoulder as he disappears into your shared room, as you laugh in response.

That night, Hansol falls asleep browsing his phone and as you’re prying it out of his sleepy hands, you feel the device vibrate, lighting up beneath your touch. On the screen, you see it’s a notification for a message from Sofia that reads: “You’re just jealous cause she likes me so much better.”

Opening the phone with your thumbprint (which Hansol insisted you input onto his phone for “emergency purposes” which were really just moments when he was too lazy to text), it opens to their conversation where you can see Hansol’s previous message: "Stop stealing my girlfriend."

Locking his phone and setting it down onto the bedside table, you settle beside him and giggle under your breath as you watch him sleep. You press a butterfly kiss to his forehead, a silent good night gesture, and the tiniest hint of a smile flutters across his lips.

* * *

The airport is a jam-packed hall of people rushing left and right, some trying to get to their luggage, while others are trying to chase down their flights; some flying home to their families, some to work, and some you imagine, are frantically trying to reach a love they are hoping they aren’t too late for.

Maybe it’s all the romance movies you’d watched with Hansol this week leading up to his departure, or maybe it was the melancholy you just couldn’t shake from your chest, your stomach doing flips as you anticipated having to say goodbye to him in a few minutes.

Beside you, he's calmly and very casually looking over his flight details, checking the boards for his flight number and check-in gate. Trying to distract yourself, you stare down at the tile of the terminal beneath your feet. Unlike you, they are made to withstand goodbyes. These halls have probably heard the word goodbye more than hospitals have, and you wonder how many ever actually return.

Deep down, you know you’re being too emotional about all of this. It was just two months, three tops. He wasn’t going away forever, and it was for his work, his dream. Finally, the thing he had been chasing so earnestly was slowly coming to fruition and you wouldn’t let yourself get in his way.

The good intention, however, does nothing to calm the pit that only deepens in your stomach as his departure draws nearer and nearer; Hansol knew how you felt about goodbyes, he knew your relationship with your parents (as non-existent as it was) and how their abandonment had scarred you. Still, you put on a brave face, you place your hand on his shoulder, grabbing his attention and pointing to the numbers in red on the departures board that you recognize to be his flight number.

"Your gate’s F-18," you tell him, peering over his shoulder to double-check and cross-reference the numbers with his documents, "and it opens in about 30 minutes."

“Thanks, babe,” he smiles, taking your hand in his, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The sentiment is sweet, but you know he’s just saying it to ease the anxiety he knows is building in you, despite being invisible on the surface. Pulling you to an emptier section of chairs in the massive lobby of the airport, he sits the both of you down and intertwines your fingers with his, placing it in his lap. With his other hand, he types a quick message to his producer that he’s already arrived and would just see her inside at the boarding area.

“Breathe, baby.” He whispers in your ear, pulling you out of your racing thoughts. He presses two fingers to your lower lip that you’ve unconsciously taken in between your teeth in your nervousness.

“And please stop biting, you’ll hurt yourself.” He smiles, placing his free hand on the side of your face and pulling your head close to him to press a kiss to the side of your head, breathing in the scent of your hair as he does.

“Sorry,” you bow your head in shame, leaning into the feel of his lips in your hair, and pressing your shoulder into his, reveling in any comfort you can find in his warmth.

Angling his head to the side to give you a better view of his face, he gives you a kind and understanding smile as he shakes his head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I know it’s hard.”

You meet his eyes and in them, there’s nothing less than adoration and empathy. The sight shatters your guard, and you feel the hot moisture start to build in your eyes, the image of Hansol slowly becoming blurry.

Again, he hugs you to him, pulling you into the crook of his neck. Finally giving in, you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in the comfortable space, silently pouring your heart out there.

“There’s my little cry baby, y/n,” he chuckles, alternating between rubbing your back and smoothing your hair, “for a minute there, I thought you transformed into some, alien mature version of yourself, yuck.”

“You’re such a dick, Hansol Vernon Choi.” you sob into his shoulder, voice breaking as you reprimand and slap his shoulder. It only makes him laugh harder. “I can’t believe you’re laughing at me right now.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, chuckling as he tilts your chin up to face him, “you were just trying so hard to act tough, I couldn’t leave you like that. Besides, you’re so cute when you cry.”

He presses his lips to yours in apology; if he tastes the tears, he doesn't say, not that he minded anyway. He would take all of you anytime, rain or shine, in laughter, and even in cute sobs in the middle of busy airports.

“It’ll be okay, baby. Just a few months.” He rubs your shoulder as your tears subside into soft sniffles, “I’ll call you every day and we’ll talk all the time, I promise. It’ll be so often that you’re gonna get sick of me anyway.”

You shake your head, slapping his shoulder again as you pull him closer to you. "I could never. Never ever, Hansol, don’t be a fucking dumbass.”

“I know, y/n, I’m just teasing you. I’m gonna miss that while I’m away.”

“What? Teasing me?” You pout.

“No, you physically abusing me when I tease you.”

You shift, facing him completely, your face tear-stained, but more visibly annoyed than anything else. His eyes are watching you intently, anticipating your reaction while he bites his lips, obviously trying to fight a smile from breaking out.

Letting out an exasperated huff of air, you say the only thing you can think to as a final resort. "I'm going to tell mom and Sofia on you."

That’s all it takes for him to burst into boisterous laughter that makes other waiting passengers look over at the two of you, some of his saliva splattering onto you as he grips your shoulders, shaking you playfully as he buries his face into your shoulder as he tries to calm himself.

Not immune to his charms, you feel yourself swayed by the sound of his laughter, finding yourself laughing along with him. You're sure that more people are staring at the two of you at this point, but you don't care. Right now, you were completely swept up in his laughter and you would savor the happiness while it lasted. You laugh until your sides hurt and you both can no longer breathe properly.

Once your giggles have subsided into bright smiles, he wipes the tears that have pooled in his eyes from laughing. Then he pulls the sleeve of his sweatshirt and reaches up to clean your tears and his spit from your face, which at this point, can no longer be differentiated.

Looking over at his watch, you note that there are only ten minutes left before he has to check-in. You look at him, straightening the orange beanie on his head, "Don't worry about me, okay Sol? I'll be fine, just come home to me."

Automatically he replies, “of course. Always.”

Right on cue, the airport announces the opening of his gate and you unwrap yourself from him, the two of you getting up to head to his counter where the two of you would inevitably have to part. The two of you walk there in silence, fingers intertwined.

Once you reach the gate, you face him with a smile, pressing a kiss to his lips and telling him to take care. When you try to untangle your hand from his, surprisingly he's the one who doesn't want to let go. He pulls you back into his arms, crushing you in a hug that seems to last for an eternity, but not nearly long enough. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply as if trying to catch and memorize your scent.

“I’ll see you soon, okay y/n?” He whispers into your skin, but you can tell that the words are more for him than they are for you.

“I’ll see you soon, baby.” You rub his back, giving him a squeeze, before prying him off you, withdrawing from the hug to set some distance between you. He kisses you once, twice then thrice more, before finally grabbing his luggage and heading to the entrance. When he reaches it though, he turns around, waving as he calls out, “I miss you already!” Knowing exactly what he was trying to say, the actual words that if he said might cause you to cry, you fight the tears.

“I miss you already!” You yell back; I love you too.

"Oh!" He turns around, facing you again, "And don't tell my mom or Sofia on me, please? If you do, I won't hear the end of it. We both know they love you more than me."

You laugh, motioning for him to go through the security check already, “I’ll think about it!”

* * *

When the boys find out, it’s a wild and complete understatement to describe it as a literal fucking shitshow. That morning, Hansol is at the dining table having breakfast – technically brunch since he'd woken up later than he intended thanks to last night's antics – scrolling through his phone, and you're hovering over him, clad in nothing but his white-button up, pouring freshly brewed coffee into his cup. As you do, he notices how the shirt hikes up your form in the slightest, but most delicious way, revealing just a sliver of the skin of your backside.

Immediately, he finds himself distracted by something else. Setting his phone down, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you to him in one swift movement, setting the coffee pot out of your hands.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He says bending you over to him, so he can kiss you, his hand finding the now more exposed skin of your rear, as you press your lips to his.

“Oh, my fucking god.” You recognize Jun’s voice, followed by rushed footfalls with worried and shocked shouts. Immediately recognizing the voices, Hansol is on his feet in a flash, covering you up as you try to maintain whatever modesty you still have.

In the doorway, there stood your 12 closest friends – the very people you had been hiding this relationship from – cramming themselves through the doorway craning their necks to see.

"I fucking knew it!" Mingyu breaks the tension, enunciating every word while pushing past the others, striding into the apartment proudly. “Wonwoo, Coups, Seungkwan, and Minghao, pay up."

His composure is enough to snap everyone out of their shock and the entire apartment ensues into chaos. Jun coming in to set his things and the snacks they’d bought onto the dining table beside you, smiling brightly and congratulating you and Hansol.

"I knew you two would eventually date. This is so great, congratulations you guys, we should go on a double date sometime." Somehow, he had managed to be utterly sweet and sincere, while completely oblivious or just indifferent to the fact that you were almost completely naked.

As Jun moved to find a spot in the room, behind him, the boys were arguing loudly, Seungcheol stomping his foot while debating fiercely with Mingyu, "Nu-uh, if they don't say they’re dating, it doesn’t count!”

Beside him, Seungkwan and Minghao are fervently agreeing and contesting Mingyu who was laughing loudly, shaking his head, and having none of it.

Hoshi on the other hand – who you noticed had just changed his hair color to a deep green– was coming in hot. His excitement had him practically bouncing to you and Hansol, shouting, “Our Vernonnie is a man now! You two are so cute! Don’t forget to use protection, okay?”

From behind him, DK comes bounding in, placing his hands on his hyung’s back affectionately, before chiming in, “Congratulations, Hansolie! You’re really lucky to have y/n.”

You almost melt at his sweet words, but that sentiment quickly evaporates when he adds, “And don’t worry,” he looks to you, “we didn’t see anything.”

“Yup, nothing at all we promise!” Hoshi agrees, both winking at you as though it's an inside joke and you are so fucking mortified you could choke on air and die right then.

"We should have brought alcohol and more food since we’re celebrating Vernon losing his virginity!” Jeonghan complains from across the room, loud enough that despite the noise bustling in the apartment, everyone hears him perfectly.

From the couch, Dino raises his phone and calls out, “I can order more food.”

On the side, the boys are still arguing, angrily quarreling as they walked towards you both. “Y/n, Hansol, please tell these dummies that you two are actually soulmates and that you both have the sight and are happily dating, please?” Mingyu demands and you feel your mouth open reflexively to answer him, but so overwhelmed by the situation that nothing comes out.

“See? She isn’t saying anything! It’s not true!” Seungkwan argues, pointing at whose face is frozen at flabbergasted, mouth open and brows furrowed.

“Yeah, silence means no!” Seungcheol argues, lightly punching Mingyu in the arm, “Right Hansol? Don’t forget I’m you’re hyung." Confused, you wonder how the conversation has evolved from mere chaos to down-right intimidation and threat-filled.

“Don’t listen to him bro,” Mingyu coaxes Hansol, “love shouldn’t be hidden away!”

“Friends can sleep with each other and not have to be soulmates, Mingyu!” Wonwoo counters, “Sex and love aren’t mutually exclusive, Gyu.”

All this happens within the first minutes they arrive, and you find yourself reaching for Hansol’s hand for comfort. He takes it easily, perfectly in sync with you, squeezes it gently to offer his strength, a silent promise that he'll take care of it.

Somehow, you and Hansol manage to slip past everyone; him covering you from every angle he possibly can as you scamper into his room, immediately closing the door and locking it, so rushed that it slams loud enough that a sudden silence washes over the entire apartment.

The two of you take a breath. You look at him and his eyes meet yours almost instantly and the flustered look on both your faces is all it takes for you to erupt into embarrassed laughter, burying your face into his shoulder. At the sound, he finds himself unable to keep from joining you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug, his hands moving to the back of your head, smoothing out your hair in downward motions.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Hansol chuckles, “I forgot they had a spare key, too.” You shake your head at him, still laughing at the craziness of the moment. He didn’t have to apologize, you had both forgotten, all caught up in your bliss.

“Please don’t break up with me.” He jokes, kissing your temple and you laugh even more.

“I love you, Hansol.” You kiss the skin of his neck as you hug him tightly.

* * *

It’s been almost two months since Hansol returned from his tour in America. After some bumps here and there, the two of you had finally fallen into a comfortable rhythm to navigate daily life. He was still spending most of his time at the studio, but you'd both worked out a schedule wherein you'd have a day every other week that would be yours and yours alone. There were also no more overnight songwriting sessions unless they were absolutely necessary.

You, on the other hand, had learned not to ask for too much of Hansol's time. Things were different now with his growing popularity, naturally, you couldn't expect things to stay the same. So, you busy yourself with work, hanging out with the boys, dates with Sofia, and even some classes you've decided to take for yourself.

Admittedly, the transition had been somewhat of a rough patch in your relationship, but after a long period, you were starting to feel like the two of you were finally in sync again. Coming out stronger and more understanding to each other. The constant reassurances you’d given each other had paid off, because now things finally were okay.

“Babe, you headin’ out already?” Hansol’s voice from the bedroom, pulls you out of your reverie and you’re brought back to your reflection staring back at you in the mirror, out in the hallway.

Giving yourself a once over, you realize it had been snowing lately and it would be good to wear a scarf, knowing how easily you got cold. “Yeah, almost. Could you hand me my lavender scarf?” The one you got me when you first confessed like a loser, you want to say, but don’t. If you started the teasing match with him now, you’d never make it to class.

Popping out of your bedroom, he walks over to you. “Here you go,” he says wrapping the scarf around your neck then pulling you in for a hug. He kisses your forehead, telling you to be careful and have fun, before turning around and heading back where he came, dragging his feet tiredly as he goes.

You turn around to check your reflection again, wanting to straighten out the scarf knowing it’s probably strewn haphazardly on you, judging from how lazy a mood Hansol seemed to be in. You freeze, seeing your reflection, finally seeing the scarf clearly and realizing.

It’s blue.

The 5 minutes it takes for you to snap out of your shock feel like forever, but you pull yourself out of it, tearing your eyes away from the vibrantly not lavender scarf. Forcing your mouth to move, you call out, “Bye, Sol, I’m headed out now. I love you.”

It takes what seems like an eternity for him to reply, but once it comes, it seems to echo through the dimly lit apartment, taunting you even as you turn the knob and walk out the door.

“I love you too.”

3. Love is a fickle thing: if you find it, treasure it, because color can leave twice as quickly as it comes.

Fin.

43 notes · View notes

ravenforce · 5 years

Text

Manhattan 2

Word Count: 3583

Warning/s: None. (Would you believe that? Lol.)

A/N: Thank you so much for everyone who likes, and follows this story. You guys are amazing. Please leave your reactions, bloody or otherwise, on the comment section. My inbox is open too if you’d like to pop by. Oh, and please note the ff:

1. If there are any grammatical mistakes I’ve still overlooked, I apologize.

2. Since you’re already reading this part. Please, be careful out there. Protect yourself from NCOV. Wear a mask if you’re going outside. Wash your hand regularly, and bring alcohol everywhere you go. Take your vitamin C seriously, and stay hydrated. If you feel flu-like symptoms, get yourself checked by experts. Don’t self-medicate. The world is a better place because you’re here. Stay with me. Xx

Manhattan Parts: 1 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

***

The Morning After - Lou’s POV

Lou can faintly see that the sun is already up and peaking through her curtains. Rather than get up, she shut her eyes tighter, the events of the night prior rushing to the forefront of her brain. She sighed happily as she remembers how soft you were against her hands, how obedient you were, and how beautiful you sound begging her to go faster, harder, and most especially when you screamed her name. She groaned when she remembered how you moaned as you come undone in her mouth and hands. She rolled on her back like she’s been struck by lightning when she remembers how you look in her bed, sated and peaceful.

She was disappointed when she found your spot on the bed empty. She sighed, no one leaves her in bed. It is her that always leave, and the other party begging her to stay but she never does. She sat up, she decided she’s not gonna wallow and think that you leaving is some sort of karma for every girl she left satisfied, yet heartbroken. She decided she’s going to shower because you both did plenty of dirty stuff last night, and then she’s gonna come downstairs to find her brothers and their merry gang of beautiful misfits and have breakfast with them.

Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt, dark jeans, and black boots, Lou barged into the service kitchen where she knew everyone was holing after a night of partying.

“Good morning, children,” she greeted happily. Amidst being disappointed about your departure, she’s still positively lighter.

The soft morning conversation came to a stop. It took a minute for everyone to process her presence, that Lou, their big sister is home for once. She’s rarely home ever since she opened the art gallery, The Heist, in Manhattan with Debbie, Daphne, and the crew.

“Sestra,” Loki greeted when Lou rounded the corner towards the coffee machine. “Your after-sex-glow can be seen from outer space.”

The Avengers choked on their breakfast items, Loki and Lou started laughing.

“Loki!” Thor admonished after successfully gulping down his french toasts.

“What? She looks great!”

“You could have gone with that,” Tony complained, blushing profusely and pointedly not looking at Lou. They’ve all been close to her, growing up with the boys but they still don’t like being privy to Lou’s sexual affairs.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Loki, ever the sassiest, said.

Thor watched his big sister for a minute, and the three of them have been closed enough to know that Loki’s right. Lou’s definitely glowing.

“Please tell me you didn’t pick up a random college girl from the party last night,” Thor said warned jokingly.

Lou smirked and intentionally didn’t answer the question as she makes her coffee.

“Lou?” Thor asked, squinting his eyes at his sister’s back.

Lou turned around to look at her blonde sibling with an infuriating smile on her face.

“Well,” she started, intentionally pausing a beat or three to annoy her brother. “I didn’t actively look for her. She stumbled on my lair, what am I supposed to do?”

Loki and the rest of the gang laughed, while Thor continued mumbling and complaining about having to look at the poor girl sulking at school because the legendary Lou Odinson won’t pick up their calls.

”Besides, how am I supposed to walk away from her? She’s breathtaking,” Lou said with genuine fondness.

***

Heavy Breakfast - Your POV

Before everyone can grill Lou on who she slept with, you barged in the service kitchen looking slightly dishevelled and with a deep frown on your face. The conversation dropped, while the tension rises. Everyone looked surprised that you’re on-site, their collective gaze fell on Nat and Carol in an instant. The two looked terrified and wholly unprepared for your arrival. They still haven’t quite polished exactly what they wanted to stay, even though they’ve been trying to reach you since the sun started to rise.

“God, Odinsons’ your house is insane,” you said dramatically.

“I went outside to make a phone call, and I got lost on the way back,” you ranted before looking up from your phone and quickly looked at your friends.

Your perfectly constructed poker face nearly slipped when you saw Lou standing behind Tony and Maria by the coffee maker. She looked mildly surprised but more entertained at the idea of being in the same room as you and the two women she helped you forget - temporarily - last night. You held back the urge to roll her eyes at her.

“You’re not the first to complain about that,” Lou quipped. “I told the boys to put up signs but I guess they’re both lazy idiots.”

You cracked a smile remembering how she called her brothers that last night before threatening to beat them up, assuming they made you cry. Tony and Maria caught the smile, no matter how small it was and quirked an eyebrow.

“Putting up signs around the house is ridiculous,” Thor complained as you walk towards the coffee machine.

“Not to mention tasteless,” Loki backed his big brother up.

Lou handed you her mug of coffee before starting a fresh brew. Thor and Loki stopped talking in an instant, as everyone watches you drink from Lou’s cup. You let out an ungodly moan as you let Lou’s perfectly brewed black coffee with two sugars wash over you, and warm you inside out. Your friends are watching the two of you like hawks. You can hear the cogs in their heads turning, piecing every action and reaction together.

Any minute now, you thought.

“You look good in my shirt,” Lou commented, full-on grinning now.

“Holy shit,” Tony exclaimed.

“What?!” Thor yelled as he stumbles out of his stool.

You just shrugged before turning to your friends. You don’t care much that they know. You’ll tell them eventually, anyway. You just worry that you sleeping with Lou will change your dynamics with Thor and Loki. Wanda looked surprised while Maria looks worried for a second, she knows you best. So, she knows you slept with Lou as a coping mechanism.

Loki and Tony look impressed while Thor looks like he’s still processing but he doesn’t look angry. Nat and Carol looked pissed as hell.

“You slept with Lou?” Nat asked, voice clearly on edge. You frowned, not liking the tone she’s using. “Why?”

“Because I can,” you answered simply, voice neutral. “And I wanted to. Last time I checked I’m free to do whatever and whoever I want.”

“We know we fucked up last night,” Carol started to say. “But this retribution is brutal.”

You can feel your blood starting boil at that. You wanted to yell that you didn’t sleep with Lou as revenge for them kissing Steve and Val, you did it for you. You did it to forget, sure but you did it also because you’re attracted to the woman for fuck sake. You wanted to scream so many things, some of them probably spiteful but you weren’t able to as Lou’s warm, soft hand landed purposely on the small of your back. Everyone caught the action, Nat and Carol’s frown dipped deeper as they watch all your anger dissipate.

“I can’t do this right now,” you sighed before putting Lou’s mug on the sink next to you.

Lou just nodded at you before stepping away from her. You walked towards Maria and Wanda before planting a soft kiss on both their cheeks with a soft promise that you’ll explain everything soon enough. You walked towards the Odinson boys next, pulling them both out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Once out of everyone’s prying eyes, you tugged the boys into a hug which they immediately reciprocated, sandwiching you between them.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” you whispered. Thor’s hand landed on the small of your back, while Loki placed his around your shoulder. “I hope we’re cool?”

The boys can hear the worry and hesitation on your voice. Loki smiled at you, before tucking a loose hair behind your ear. “I’m cool with whatever you and Lou are up to. I ship it.”

You smiled at the raven-haired boy before turning towards Thor.

“I don’t understand it but it’s not my business. I just hope you understand what you’re getting into,” Thor said, worry lacing his voice.

The truth is, he secretly ships it as well but he knows her sister’s reputation in New York. She’s been living in Manhattan for a couple of years now, and never had Lou ever dated anyone seriously. He knows her sister’s not the relationship type. She beds girls that caught her interest for a small amount of time until she gets bored or until the girls started developing real feelings for her; then Lou bolts.

She doesn’t care how long the arrangement has gone, if romantic feelings are involved, she’s out. She doesn’t care much if it hurts. For their sister, it’ll hurt worse if she pretends she can give them something she couldn’t. For their sister, it’ll only hurt worst in the long run because what she gives won’t be enough. Lou has been leaving a trail of broken hearts everywhere she goes that’s why Thor worries about you.

You sighed happily. All things considered, you know you’re gonna be okay now that you’ve secured your friendship with the Odinson boys. You were about to leave when the door opened revealing Nat and Carol.

“Wait, Y/N. Please stay,” Nat pleaded.

“Let us explain,” Carol added. “Let us try and fix this, please.”

You wanted to ignore both of them but the sadness in their voice stopped you on your track. You turned towards them and saw the two woman you truly adore nearly in tears.

“I can’t,” you started. Nat and Carol visibly deflated. “Not right now. I need to go home and get ready. I have an interview for the internship program. We’ll talk after, I promise.”

“Okay,” they answered smiling softly at each other.

At that moment, you decided that there’s no point holding on the hurt and anger. No matter what, you still love Nat and Carol but you decided you’re not gonna be a player in their game anymore. When you met the two, you knew they still have feelings for each other but they’re too stubborn to admit it, yet you still willingly played. You decided though that if you can’t be with them, you’ll help them get who they deserve.

No more running away. No more mind games, no more using other people to make each other jealous. No one else is gonna get hurt, just because Nat and Carol can’t be honest with each other but that’ll have to wait after your interview.

***

The Heist - Lou’s POV

“You’re late,” Daphne stated the obvious as Lou walked in leisurely in the conference room two hours after she’s supposed to be in.

Debbie noted the soft smile on her best friends face but said nothing. Lou just shrugged as she plopped down on her designated chair beside Debbie.

“I’m sorry,” Lou said but didn’t offer any other explanation.

She didn’t really have to explain how she stayed up all night just to make you come undone. She didn’t really have to explain how she offered to drive you home as an excuse to spend more time with you. She didn’t feel like sharing how she drove leisurely back to Manhattan because a part of her wants to stay in Ithaca, and risked being teased by her friends for immediately having a soft spot for a girl she barely knew.

9Ball looked up from her laptop to regard Lou for a moment, then every one to check if they’re seeing exactly what she’s seeing.

“At least one of us had a good weekend,” 9ball said with a smirk.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with an after-sex-glow, like ever,” Tammy said making everyone laugh and Lou to roll her eyes playfully.

“Agreed,” Debbie seconded.

“See, even Debbie agrees,” Constance said, “So who’s the lucky girl?”

“There’s no girl,” Lou lied. She knows that Debbie can tell she’s lying but she doesn’t care. She’s not ready to share you with her vulture friends yet.

Before anyone can call her out on her bullshit, the gallery secretary, Charlie poked her head in the conference room.

“She’s here,” she said looking at Debbie.

“Saved by the bell,” Amita teased, prompting everyone to start giggling again. Debbie shushed them after a minute. Charlie who has been working in the gallery since it opened didn’t bat an eye on her bosses weird antics. She just waits patiently for instructions.

“Send her in,” Debbie instructed before Charlie nodded and scurried away to get the last interviewee for the gallery intern position. Whoever gets the job will join her, and the second gallery assistant, Kurt at the bottom of the corporate ladder.

Lou looked at her best friend with a silent question but before she can answer, the door opened and the applicant walked in.

***

The Interview - Your POV

You stopped dead on your tracks when you saw Lou, while the other paled a little.

Holy shit, you thought to yourself.

When Lou said she’s a businesswoman, it didn’t occur to you that she might be the owner of the art gallery you’re applying for an internship. You internally cursed the alcohol you consumed the night before for missing dead giveaways that Lou owns the Heist, like the number of artworks and art pieces in her home office, or the magazines on her coffee table featuring her and her crew.

You were pulled away from your internal musing when 9Ball jumped out of her chair to tackle you softly in a hug.

“Y/N!!” 9Ball exclaimed as she rubs her pretty face on the side of yours. Lou frowned at the action.

“You know each other?” Lou asked carefully keeping her voice neutral.

9Ball extricated herself from your person before dragging you to the table. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, she’s my friend from MIT. She’s eighteen when we graduated uni,” 9Ball bragged.

“We know, nine. We read her file” Rose said smiling.

Lou frowned because she doesn’t know, she forgot to read your file. She meant to do it yesterday but well, she met you instead. Though she knows things about you, it would be inappropriate for her to divulge them in this interview. She had to bite her lips to stop herself from smiling, thinking about all the tiny details she knows about that isn’t in your resume. Daphne caught her though but decided it’s not the time to discuss what’s going on.

“Y/N you’ve been vouched by Nine, and your credentials are spot on,” Debbie started to say, using her CEO voice. “So I’m wondering why you still want to do this interview rather than just get the job?”

You smiled up at your potentially new boss. You can easily see that Debbie is the level-headed one in their group.

“I work great with Nine. You all work great with Nine but that doesn’t mean you will work great with me,” you said softly, confusing everyone some more.

“I need you to assess me as a person, not just my credentials.” You paused to let that information sink in. 9Ball looks at you with pride in her eyes.

“I’m great in the paper, sure. I possess the technical qualities to perform an excellent job, but I believe all of it is to go to waste if you find my personality doesn’t match yours.”

Smart. Debbie noted on your resume without breaking eye contact. She smiled at you, clearly impressed. She looked around the table to assess her team’s reaction, and by the happy look on their faces, she knew they liked you as well. Everyone was enamoured by you if their attempts to engage you in a conversation all at the same time is to go by.

“What do you think?” she whispered towards Lou.

Lou didn’t take her eyes off you as she answers. “I think she’s perfect…for the job,” Lou caught her slipped up early on but by the look on Debbie’s face, she knew she caught it.

Debbie cleared her throat to draw everyone’s attention back to her. She looked at you intensely, the pregnant pause is giving you anxiety. “Y/N, when do you think you can start the job?”

You heaved a great sigh of relief. “Can you give me until next week to find an apartment, move, and get settled?”

Debbie nodded before standing up, walking to you and shaking your hand.“Welcome to the Heist,” she said smiling. Then everyone came over to congratulate you and give you hugs, except Lou.

***

You were standing at the side of the gallery entrance, texting Maria the good news when someone stood toe-to-toe with you. You’ve seen that boots this morning but you opted to finish your text with Maria before looking up at Lou.

“Would you prefer if I turn down the job?” you asked tentatively. You’re a little worried that she didn’t come over to congratulate you awhile ago.

“What?! No! Unless you don’t think you can’t work with me,” she teased. You laughed softly.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Ms Odinson.”

“Miller,” she said. You tilted your head confused. “I don’t use Odinson here. It attracts too much-unwanted attention.”

You wanted to make a joke about how such a face would attract a lot of attention but the seriousness in her voice prompted you to let it go.

“Well don’t flatter yourself, Ms Miller,” you corrected yourself, trying to imitate the way she talks. Lou laughs at your antics. You’re such a child but instead of running for the hills, she’s craving you more and more.

“Anyway, do you have plans tonight? Thought maybe since you’re here, we can celebrate.” Lou wanted to smack herself for being unable to resist vomiting her words. She doesn’t do nervous but something about asking you out, platonic or otherwise, feels daunting to her.

“I can’t tonight. I promised Maria and Wanda I’ll be home for dinner,” you said with a frown. “And you know I promised Natasha and Carol we’ll talk too.”

Lou mirrored your frown. Something about you, and Nat, and Carol in one sentence ruin her good mood. “Okay. Some other time, maybe?”

“Now, who can’t get enough of who?” you teased, effectively eradicating the frown on the blonde woman’s face.

“Shut up.”

You laughed. She started laughing too while hailing a cab for you. When the famous yellow car pulled up on the curb next to you, you bid her farewell. You stopped before entering the vehicle to look at her.

“Maybe you can help me warm my new apartment soon.”

It wasn’t a question. It’s an offer, and Lou knows it.

She smiled broadly at you.

“It’s a date,” she said before the yellow taxi rolled you away.

Taglist: @kaytoopio @marvelfansince08love @marvelb00kwolf @shycucumbersandwich @subject7creed @inkstainedhandsofgold

136 notes · View notes

bangtan-gal · 5 years

Text

Consequences

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!reader fallen angel!au word count: 2.3k warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of past abuse, mentions of toxic relationships

Masterlists Other Angel AUS: Chan | Jisung |

Your neighborhood was constantly infested with crime and gangs. You were used to the gunshots at midnight, the constant screaming, and the car alarms going off. So that must’ve been why you were so calm when the bloody body appeared on your doorstep and didn’t call the police. The rules of the neighborhood were commonly known: keep your mouth shut and you won’t get hurt.

Blood splattered across the white tiles and stained your couch as you struggled to drag the body into your house. Part of you knew that you should’ve just left the boy outside to just rot, but you still had your heart. You just prayed that you could get him patched up and out before your boyfriend came back home.

Just as you knelt down beside him, washcloth and isopropyl alcohol in head, your phone started to ring. You stared at it, watching as your mom’s caller ID flashed wildly. You wanted to answer, your hands started to shake because of it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself. You were more scared of the consequences.

You started wiping the cuts and scratches on his face, staring at the pale skin that appeared beneath all the blood and dirt. As you continued on, silently bandaging up his arm and disinfecting the cut on his eyebrow and lip, he started to stir. A grumble escaped and he started to shift.

Then as fast as lightning, he sat up, hand wrapping around your wrist and eyes turning to you. His eyes were dark, but they seemed to be glowing green from the small slants of sunlight peering through the window. His dark brown hair was matted to his face from the sweat.

“Where am I?” He asked. He didn’t even seem phased from his current injuries. He should’ve been slightly light-headed, but he seemed completely fine.

It made no sense.

“Um… in my apartment?” You mumbled, pulling out of his tight grip. “You were passed out and all bloody on my doorstep.”

His mouth opened in an ‘O’ and then a sad sigh escaped him. He looked down at his fingers, flexing them. He brought his knees up to his chest and cleared his throat. Fear was burning in his eyes. You found yourself actually feeling bad for this one.

“I’m Hyunjin,” he hummed, holding out a hand. You shook it, staring at him, still in confusion.

“Y/N…” you trailed off, “do you know how you got here?” “Father banished me,” he stated simply, standing up. Then he groaned and fell back onto the couch, clutching his head. You pursed your lips.

“Your… father banished you?” You asked, voice growing quieter. Was he younger than he looked? Was it possible he was like you and living in an environment he didn’t belong in?” His eyes met yours and his expression softened and you could see some ancient sadness brimming in their depths.

“It’s hard to explain,” he muttered. His stomach rumbled and his gaze darted downwards. His hand worriedly patted his stomach.

“I’ll get you some food,” you sighed.

He frowned. “I’ve never had to eat before.”

You didn’t hear that last statement as you hurried into the kitchen. You made a bowl of cereal and brought it to him. Confusion was evident on his face as he stared at the bowl in his lap. Although he wasn’t a child, you treated him like one as you scooped up a spoonful and moved it towards his mouth. His eyes met yours as his lips wrapped around the spoon and he slowly swallowed. After that, he took the food from you and practically inhaled it.

As he did, you turned your attention to your phone Two text notifications sat on the lock screen and your stomach started to revolt. You let out a shaky breath and unlocked your phone, reading over the message.

DK: I won’t be back in town for a week

DK: And you know the rules baby, none of them should be broken

“You’d let someone treat you like that?” The question startled you. You snapped your phone off and dropped it in your lap. The boy stared over your shoulder, eyes focused on where your phone sat. It made no sense, but he looked angry. He took a slow breath and then leaned away from you.

“You shouldn’t intrude on others privacy like that,” you scolded, standing up. His gaze followed you.

“You’re no one’s pet, Y/N.”

You froze, fingers tightening around your phone. That was what you used to tell yourself every night before you went to bed until your hope was crushed under the toe of that horrible man’s shoe. Sometimes you swore that you heard someone whisper that in your ear in your darkest moments.

“Who exactly are you?” You asked. Hyunjin stood up and this time he didn’t collapse back onto the couch. He staggered towards you, clutching his stomach as he did so.

“Your guardian angel.”

Then he passed out again and smacked his head against the carpet.

⧪⧪⧬⧪⧪

When he came to again, it was dinner time and just like before, the boy was starving. You didn’t ask about whatever nonsense he had mumbled before his accident. You just fed him and yourself, the both of you silent as you ate. Hyunjin was like a vacuum the way he consumed food. One second it was there and the next it was sucked into the void that was him.

“And we always made fun of humans for eating excessively,” he groaned after he finished. This time you stared at him, your brain struggling to wrap itself around exactly what was happening.

“What?” Hyunjin’s gaze was sharp when it met yours.

“I told you didn’t I? I’m your guardian…” then he trailed off, eyes going down to stare at his hands. “Or at least I used to be.”

You stood up, clasping your hands together. Your body was visibly shaking and your teeth were working vigorously on your bottom lip. That wasn’t possible. It was logic, it was law. God didn’t exist. Angels didn’t exist and neither did demons.

But what ab—

“I’m going to bed, there’s an extra bedroom down the hall,” you said. Hyunjin opened his mouth to interrupt you, but your voice grew sharper. Then you hurried to your bedroom, changing into pajamas quickly and covering your mouth as you struggled to muffle your sobs.

Eventually you fell asleep and you weren’t sure what time it was when someone delicately knocked at your door. You roused from your sleep, watching as the door creaked open and Hyunjin stepped inside. The moon outlined his body as he approached the bed and knelt down beside you.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he apologized. You squinted into the dark, trying to see the supposed angel that sat just a foot away.

“It’s not the first time,” you replied softly. You weren’t any calmer, but you forced yourself to keep an outer composure. “Are you actually an angel?”

Hyunjin was silent but you could hear him moving. The bed dipped as he sat on the edge and his fingers traced along your arm. They were soft and delicate and his touch was sending shivers down your spine.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. There was no sense of worth in his voice. “I chose humans over my duties and now… I’m actually here.”

You reached for the lamp, blinking as light flooded your room. Hyunjin perched on the edge of your bed, chin resting on his knees. The green in his eyes had disappeared and his eyes were almost completely black. His mouth was set in a grim line and his eyes were focused on the window. There was a longing in his eyes; a longing that you’d seen hundreds of times in the mirror.

The want to escape.

“Ok,” you started slowly, “let’s say you are an angel. Why are you here? How’d you get all hurt? Can’t you just leave?”

Hyunjin stared at his hands and then shook his head.

“I was banished by my Father. I didn’t have a choice of coming here… and the fall from heaven is far. I-I fe…” His gaze moved to you. A million emotions seemed to swell on his face; sympathy, longing, sadness… and something that seemed almost loving. You sat up on your elbows, cheeks starting to flush.

“Why did you fall?” “You… I fell for you,” he murmured, “I saw all this abuse and I wanted to step in and I tried… but Father stopped me. I got mad, I screamed at him and tried to hurt him. It just made no sense: what’s the point of having guardian angels if we can’t even do anything to physically protect you?” He was crying. Hyunjin sniffled and wiped at his eyes, lips quivering. His whole body was shaking as he covered his face, trying to hide himself from you.

“Chan got away with it, he managed to save his… and then escaped Father’s wrath,” he sobbed, “I t-thought I could do and instead you’ve suffered so much because of my failures.”

You knew you should’ve comforted him; you wanted to. But you were just frozen as you stared at the boy in front of you. There’s no way this was real. Yet the look in his eyes screamed that it was and that he was actually hurt because of your misfortunes. He kept wiping the tears away only for his cries to become louder.

“I’ve failed you Y/N, I’m really sorry,” he gasped out. You fully sat up and shook your head. It didn’t matter how crazy this was. You saw someone trying to take the blame for something they couldn’t control.

“It’s not your fault, Hyunjin, you couldn’t have done anything about it,” you mumbled, “if that was your rules, you couldn’t break them.”

Hyunjin shook his head adamantly.

“But I could’ve.”

You glanced at the clock and saw that it was near two in the morning.

“Hyunjin, I’m worried, I really am… but if you’re human now you need sleep,” you sighed, “we should get some sleep and then we can talk about it in the morning?”

He wiped away another round of tears and nodded.

“C-can I stay in here?” He asked, not meeting your stare. You nodded, too tired to care as you rolled over and made space for him. Hyunjin slid in beside you and went still. You glanced over your shoulder at him, guilt tugging at your heart when you saw his tear-stained face. His eyes jumped to yours when your hand wrapped around his and squeezed.

“I promise nothing is your fault,” you murmured.

Hyunjin didn’t reply.

⧪⧪⧬⧪⧪

Morning came quickly and you taught Hyunjin how to make pancakes. He was almost like a little puppy the way he stood at your side, eyes wide as he watched everything you did. The two of you ate in silence and then he proposed the idea. So that was how you ended up in a car, cruising down the main street.

“How do you know where he is?” You asked nervously, eyes flitting around the area. You rarely left the apartment and it must’ve been so long that you turned into a hermit. Just the idea of leaving gave you anxiety and you were sure you were about to start crying any second.

“I mean… I lost my abilities, but I know what an angel aura feels like… and Chan’s was special,” he explained, “he came and talked to me the night he came to earth and told me where he was going if I ever wanted to see him.”

He stared out the window and then pointed to a building.

“There.”

You felt nervous as you parked and stepped out of the car. It was a library and it smelled of dust as you stepped inside. Hyunjin didn’t even stutter as he marched through the aisles of books and then stopped. You nearly bumped into him and then you looked around him. A blonde boy sat at a table, reading a book and sipping out of a mug. Something weird and powerful radiated from him and you could feel the belief start to set itself deeper into you.

Hyunjin had desperately wanted to see Chan and although you hadn’t been sure, you could hear the need in his voice. You wondered if seeing Chan would help him realize it wasn’t his fault. When you’d woke up in the morning, Hyunjin had been crying again. If Chan helped, you would take it.

“Channie!” Hyunjin whisper-shouted and started to walk towards the table. The blonde looked up, eyes momentarily sparking green and then he smiled when he saw Hyunjin. The sun was bouncing off his skin and he practically looked like he was glowing. Chan stood up and hugged Hyunjin. When he stepped back, his gaze skimming over Hyunjin, his smile stammered.

“Your powers are gone,” he said. His eyes sharply looked up to see you spying from the corner. His gaze darted back to Hyunjin. “What happened?” Hyunjin turned around and waved you over. Your body was vibrating as you made your way towards them, avoiding Chan’s inquisitive stare. You stood as close as you could to Hyunjin, unable to explain why you felt nervous around the other angel. His eyes burned into you, the green starting to grow deeper. Then it faded and he smiled sadly, looking at Hyunjin.

“You fell for a human,” Chan hummed.

Your mouth opened slightly and it hit you. The reason Hyunjin fell wasn’t because of his fire to protect you. He fell because of the intention behind it. You stared at him, watching as his eyes flickered and he glanced over at you. Sure, he fell from heaven for you, but first he fell in a different way.

He fell in love with you.

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yehet-me-up · 5 years

Text

The Brief and Disastrous Knighthood of Byun Baekhyun

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: fluff af, comedy

Word Count: 1,787

Request: Baekhyun, comedy, 7+25 (if two is ok?) from the quote list! I love your writing!! Hello love!! This is based on Exo Mall Baekhyun because I’m such trash for that Baek. You don’t have to have read any of it to read this drabble though! I hope you enjoy it <33

A/N: Tagging the Mrs. Byuns: @jeonocho @hopefulbyun @byunfirstlady @byunbabekhyun <3

May 14th, 1988

Baekhyun stretches, lifting his arms above his head and exposing a sliver of his stomach that makes your heart do its traitorous flip.

You wonder what it would be like to bite the skin there, if he’d like that. Okay, that’s enough, brain.

To distract yourself from these absolutely insane thoughts about your best friend you playfully tickle the exposed skin of his low back and he yelps, covering himself.

He makes a big show of dying in agony, holding his back and making you giggle. Both of you are still exhausted from your sixteenth birthday last night but as always he seems to have never ending energy.

‘Back to the old coal mines,’ he jokes while you two wait out back of the movie theater for the opening manager.

‘I hear you’ve got the black lung after a week, that must be a record,’ you say, sticking an imaginary microphone to his face. ‘What can you tell us, Mr. Byun?’

‘Baekhyun, please. Mr. Byun is my father.’ He leans against the wall and gives you a roguish grin. ‘You know me, I will persevere through any hardship. Ready and willing to lay down my life for the people of Seattle, in need of film and snacks.’

You gasp dramatically. ‘You’re so noble. You should be knighted for your services to the cinema-going community.’

He sketches a dramatic bow while you mime placing an imaginary sword on one shoulder and then the other.

‘Thank you, milady,’ he says in a regal voice. ‘I-’ He stops short at the sight of Serena, your manager.

‘Don’t stop on my account,’ she laughs. It turns into a yawn as she pulls out her keys to unlock the door. ‘It’s been a week and I already know you’re one outrageous child Baekhyun.’

He sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead with exaggerated relief.

‘As long as you know what you’ve gotten yourself into,’ you tell her with mock gravity.

He scoffs and clutches his chest. ‘Betrayed by my oldest friend. How dare you.’

Serena walks you inside the theater and you feel a frisson of excitement in your stomach. Finally. For years you and Baek have been counting down the days until you could work here. His ass just had to go and turn sixteen a week before you. Rude.

She opens a closet to the left and turns on the lights.

You take a deep breath. It already feels like home, with the plush black carpet with its outer space pattern, the smell of stale soda and popcorn, the flickering light above theater One that’s been broken since 1983 when your dad took you and Baekhyun to see Return of the Jedi.

When Serena comes back out she hands what looks like a checklist to Baekhyun. ‘Will you walk her through the opening duties?’

He takes the list and salutes her. ‘On my life, Captain.’

She rolls her eyes at him. ‘How on earth do you stand him?’ she asks you with a good-natured laugh.

You open your mouth to say something else sassy about Baekhyun, but you pause. Since Kindergarten the two of you have been joined at the hip. Two peas in a pod, your mom would say. They even let him sleep over at your house and you at his; you’re practically family.

But the past few years you’ve stopped seeing him as just your best friend and started to see him as something... more. A dangerous more that makes your palms sweat and your mind think of all sorts of inappropriate things.

You cough awkwardly. ‘Well, he’s not that bad most of the time. He’s a pretty great friend actually.’

He looks touched for a moment; the banter and joking you usually keep up between you two lifts for a brief pause. His brows tug together and he gives you a smile absent of laughter. Gods, you want to kiss him.

Thanks, hormones, you think with a groan.

Serena laughs. ‘Alright, just don’t burn the place down please.’

‘You got it!’ Baekhyun says and jogs over to the counter, leaping and sliding on his ass across the smooth surface before landing dramatically.

Serena rubs her eyes with her hands. ‘He’s going to get me fired, isn’t he?’

You take pity on her. ‘Don’t worry, the only thing he ever hurts is himself,’ you say and walk around to the side entrance to the concessions stand, the proper entrance.

‘That’s not reassuring!’ she calls after you before heading upstairs.

When you step through the door he’s eyeing the list and mumbling to himself. He has no idea what he’s doing you realize and stifle a laugh. You come up behind him and read over his shoulder.

‘Need some help?’ you say right in his ear.

‘No,’ he replies instantly. He stands and gathers himself.

‘Take notes, sweetheart,’ he says in the absolute worst Humphrey Bogart impression you’ve ever heard. ‘I’m an expert.’

‘Gross.’ You snort and fold your arms. ‘So, Sir Byun. You’ve mastered this machine after a solid week? Amazing.’

He narrows his eyes at you. ‘If it’s so easy, why don’t you figure it out?’

‘Oh, no,’ you say with a smirk. ‘You want a medal of honor? This is all you my friend. Astound me with your technical mastery.’

He pantomimes rolling up non-existent sleeves. ‘Step out of the way, miss. This requires the work of an professional.’

First he flips on a switch, lighting up the machine. Next he grabs a tall metallic container and looks at the plastic tub of popcorn kernels, looking back and forth between the list and the cup.

He pouts without realizing it. You lean against the counter and pick at a caked-on patch of something neon blue and sticky to avoid thinking about his soft hair and his lips.

He dips the cup in the tub and fills it to the brim, brushing a few kernels off the top and pouring it into the machine. ‘Ta da!’ he says triumphantly.

‘That’s it?’ you ask, stepping next to him.

‘Excuse me, I’ve been knighted by a Queen, how dare you question me,’ he teases, making a face.

‘My apologies Sir Byun,’ you laugh, bowing dramatically to him. ‘This queen wonders if perhaps, the machine should be... I don’t know, doing something?’

‘That’s weird,’ he says. He double checks the lights and lifts the lid. ‘It normally starts popping right away, I don’t know what’s wrong with it.’

He futzes with it, trying to get it to start. The edges of his ears, still too big for his head, turn pink the longer it takes him to figure it out.

The smell of popcorn burning reaches you both and his eyes widen. ‘Oh shoot, I forgot this other switch. Whoops,’ he says sheepishly.

He flicks on the second switch and the popper rattles to life like an ancient beast angry at being awoken. You eye it suspiciously, watching the warped lid rattle cautiously. A beat later and the noise inside grows incredibly loud.

‘Baek, is it supposed to do that?’

‘Uhhhh… I’m not sure?’ he watches it with fear in his eyes too, moving in front of you as kernels start to pop.

The uneven lid flings a hot kernel at Baekhyun like a slingshot and he winces as it smacks his exposed arm. ‘Oh shit.’

Before either of you can move, the machine practically explodes, dozens of kernels flying out at lightning speed.

One catches you on the forehead and you yelp. ‘BAEKHYUN WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL!’

You throw your arms over your head as molten hot kernels rain down around you. He pulls you around the corner out of the way, shielding you with his broad shoulders and pressing your back to the door.

In the enclosure of his body you breathe in his clean and light scent, heart slowing down from the shock but speeding up at his closeness. His chest moves against yours and he looks down to the non-existent space between you.

In all the years you’ve been friends you’ve hugged many times. Wrestled over toys. Swam together. Fell asleep in his lap during the millionth viewing of Halloween. Played with his hair whenever he’d pass out on your leg while stargazing with your group of friends.

But something feels different this time and the confusion in his eyes mirrors the turbulent feelings in your heart. Neither of you speak as the popper wages Armageddon on the concessions area.

Warmth blooms low in your body and your brows shoot up in shock. The motion makes the kernel burn on your forehead ache and you wince and press a palm to it.

‘I’m sorry, Hitch,’ he says softly.

Before you can tell him it’s fine he lifts a hand, touching the sore spot with his thumb. He leans forward and shocks you by pressing a gentle kiss to the spot.

You have no idea what to say, robbed of the words that always come so easily between you two.

But you’re saved by the bell. Or, in this case, by your manager.

The noise cuts off abruptly and you peek around Baekhyun to see Serena with a clipboard protecting her face and her hand on the switches.

‘Baekhyun, what happened?’

He runs his hand on his neck, stepping back to let you move. He winces. ‘I don’t know what I did, I’m sorry.’

‘As long as neither of you were hurt.’ She slides her sleeve down to cover her wrist and carefully looks into the popper. She shakes her head and Baekhyun has the grace to look ashamed.

Serena stares the two of you down. ‘Look, I’m not going to say anything to anyone about this. Just… next time please make sure you turn on the heat and the agitator at the same time. And don’t forget to put the oil in. And - lord - don’t put in three times the amount of kernels the machine can handle.’

‘Expert my ass, Baek,’ you snicker, covering your mouth. ‘Wait, how’d you get to the popper Serena? Did you jump the counter?’

She purses her lips at you two and glares at you over her glasses as she walks to the door. ‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’

‘Deal,’ you both say in unison.

Once she’s gone, Baekhyun grabs the broom to start cleaning up and you begin making a batch, the proper way. Neither of you acknowledges the odd moment between you.

He groans and you sling an arm around his shoulder to cheer him up. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll only sue you a little for the damage.’

He mutters while he sweeps, pouting dramatically. ‘You’ll definitely take away my knighthood for this.’

#DRABBLEPALOOZA #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #exo au #exo fanfic #exo x reader #exo fluff

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thecandywrites · 6 years

Text

Isthantari- Part 2

Wow!!! I did NOT think this story would be as popular as it was! I am so happy you guys liked it!!!!! (intense fangirl squealing)

So yo! @catsithsitter, and @royale-skeleton-key I’m tagging you guys in this part two and I really hope you like it. That sweet lemony good good goodness in this chapter. If you know what I mean.

Part 2

Everything was going perfect, you were making leaps and bounds of progress, you discovered that if your froze the Jika fruits and then let them thaw again, that turned all their sourness into sweetness because the Jika home world was all tropical in climate, it never froze so even the Jika had not known that about it’s own foods and once it thawed, it would keep it sweetness no matter what you did to it after that and then if you refroze it, it could be made into sorbets and ice creams and all kinds of desserts and had all kinds of potential while the vegetables, if you heated them up and cooked them, suddenly new flavors would explode where there once was none and the flavors ranged from sweet to savory to spicy. But that wasn’t the only ‘progress’ you made. On the third day of your visit, it was like Jaxon finally came out of his shell so to speak and returned to being the same person who you had been talking to via texts and emails this whole time and really warmed up to you. He was so funny, and sweet and perfectly charming, not to mention flirtatious. And despite your best efforts to remain as perfectly professional as possible, more often than not, you shamelessly flirted back, especially after Jaxon made you a new perfume using the scents of your favorite Jika flowers and it put all your other perfume to shame it smelled so good and you wore it exclusively and Jaxon seemed even more attracted to you.

Then one night, two weeks later the ship was attacked, it woke you up out of a sound sleep and within moments Jaxon was at your door and picked you up out of bed and carried you to an escape pod. Holding you securely in all four of his arms as his wings flew him faster than he could run and once inside the pod, it ejected with both of you in it and it tried to go into outer space but you were shot down and Jaxon excreted a silky, stringy substance from his abdomen and made a makeshift spiderweb in the middle of the pod and quickly built a cocoon around you as the pod hurtled back into the earth’s atmosphere and into a really bad tropical storm. The whole time, Jaxon doing his best to assure you and reassure you that you were going to be ok and once he was done he crawled inside of it with you and wrapped himself around you protectively as you wrapped yourself around him in turn and hugged him tightly and cried into his chest and prayed to any god that would listen to help you and Jaxon live through this. Your ship was struck by lightning and were inside an airpocket of thunder when it clapped around the ship and you felt it in your chest and bones when it did and it partially crushed the ship from the air pressure of the thunder. And when you crashed into the ocean the ship completely broke apart but the cocoon stayed in tact and protected you and cushioned all of those blows but the cocoon soon took on water and it took Jaxon cutting the cocoon with his mandibles to get you both out so you wouldn’t drown and to get you to the surface. A wave soon made you both rise and you saw a little island a little ways away but you knew that when the wave would crash, that you both could get crushed under the pressure and would drown and your body and brain kicked into survival mode.

“Jaxon! Listen to me, will your wings work under water?!” You yelled over the roar of the storm as you both struggled to keep your heads above water.

“They should.” Jaxon answered.

“OK, I’ll breathe into you, you breathe into me, go under the surface of the water and fly through the water to the island, otherwise these waves will kill us. Can you do that?” You asked and he nodded as you took a deep breath and attached your mouth to his and breathed out into his mouth as he breathed in your breath before he breathed out into you so that you could breathe in and together you both dove deeper than the crashing waves could reach as his wings flew through the water towards the island at an incredible speed as you clung to him for dear life as he held you tight and within a matter of minutes you were both on the beach and you drug him inland and you put the trunk of a palm tree between you as you both hugged the palm tree and each other until the storm passed.

Come morning, you found yourself laying on the ground on your back with Jaxon curled around you protectively and you worried that he was dead because his body was stiff and stuck in that position.

“Jaxon!” You yelled as you slapped him and hit him before he woke up and his body moved.

“Oh thank god! I thought I lost you.” You exclaimed as you hugged him even tighter.

“No, I’m still here.” Jaxon reassured you and pet your face in relief, happy that you had made it through too as his attennae tapped on your head too.

“What happened?” You asked him. “Who attacked us?” You asked him.

“Our own military did, they got a hold of a different queen. They assassinated the queen and her escorts and took over.” Jaxon revealed and you gasped in horrified shock.

“No! Oh my god! Does that happen often?” You asked.

“More often than we like to admit.” Jaxon revealed.

“Is that another reason why you didn’t want to be your sister’s consort? Because assassinations happen so often?” You asked softly as you pet his head soothingly.

“Yes. Usually they will simply go after just the queen and her consorts, this time they were going after everyone.” Jaxon revealed softly as he leaned into your touch.

“So what should we do? Is there anything we can do?” You asked.

“I don’t know.” Jaxon answered.

“Should you try to reclaim the throne?” You wondered.

“No, absolutely not, normally I would simply take my new orders from the new queen. It’s very odd that they were trying to kill everyone.” Jaxon shook his head no.

“Ok, well, for now, let’s just...try to survive on this island before we can hopefully get rescued by humans at least.” You suggested as you both got up before you noticed his wing was torn.

“Oh no! Are you in pain?” You asked him as you tried to touch the wing but he stopped you.

“Yes, please don’t touch it.” Jaxon warned you as he carefully unfolded it and tried to put it back into place himself before folding his wings up to keep the torn one safe from getting torn further before you both explored the little island, one side of it had a mangrove, with baby sharks swimming around in it along with other fish. And as far as food went, you found evidence of coconut crabs and other kinds of crabs as well, little fiddler crabs. You found coconuts, bananas, mangoes and wild limes and all kinds of other tropical fruits that you were both happy and relieved to eat before you worked on building a shelter. But you noticed the more you sweat, the more distracted and more scatterbrained Jaxon became.

“Jaxon? Are you ok? Do I stink that bad?” You tried to joke as you put the palm fronds and banana leaves on the roof of your little shelter.

“No.” Jaxon shook his head and tried to get back to task of starting a fire.

“No you’re not ok? Does your wing hurt worse now?” You asked.

“No, I’m ok, no you don’t stink bad.” Jaxon clarified as he tried to make a fire and was failing miserably.

“...Oh, ok.” You nodded in understanding as you finished with the roof and continued to gather as much food as you could and created a stock pile. You weren’t a good climber so your solution to the coconut trees was to try to shake them or bump them with your hip to get the coconuts down which kind of worked. But to your delight, you did find some banana trees that had ripe bananas on them so you got the stalk down with help of some of the wreckage which you used as improvised knives, making spears and things out of the shredded metal, granted, very carefully. Jaxon buzzed angrily after a while and you came over to see him clearly frustrated that he couldn’t start a fire.

“Hey, it’s ok.” You tried to reassure him as you came over to him and sat down next to him.

“No it’s not ok!” Jaxon barked at you. “Here you are, the soft, delicate one and you’re fine! You’re not hurt, I am, Jika are supposed to be tougher than humans and you get us away from the hive and break a wing and we’re useless! Here we are, crashed, stranded and marooned and you’re just rolling with it like it’s just another day at the office for you, like you’ve done this a thousand times before.” Jaxon ranted and Jika couldn’t cry but if they could, you were pretty sure he would be right now.

“Hey, Jaxon, listen to me.” You insisted and decided to break with respecting personal space and crawled into his lap and held his face so that he would look at you. “You, just had the worst day of your life, your family was murdered and overthrown from the throne, your own people rebelled against you and tried to kill you, you were so brave in making sure I was ok at least, you tried to get both of us to safety instead of only taking care of yourself. It’s you who rescued us. You are injured right now and everyone feels useless when they’re injured, humans get a paper cut on our fingers and we feel like we’re dying and we can’t go on. Humans are weird. Sometimes the super simple things kill us or at the very least injure us and maim us and sometimes nothing can kill us. Right now, if you had a scanner you would see that a metric fuck ton of adrenaline is pumping through my system and I am in survival mode. When things get better and I’m not in survival mode, I’ll get a chance to mentally process what just happened to us and I’ll be helpless and weak and you’ll be the one to carry me through that. But for right this second- you are injured and alone in an alien world. The only reason we’re doing half as ok as we are is because I’m a specialist when it comes to food, I’ve studied it for years and I specialize in rare and tropical foods, I know what to eat and what not to eat and how to make even the worst garbage edible. I know to Jika, women are rare and it takes dozens and dozens of males to take care of and look after one female and you probably feel like a failure because you’re not doing that right this second. But I’m telling you that this female in your lap right now, is going to take care of you. Because you are my friend and I care for you, a lot ok? That’s what humans do, both take care of the other, it’s not a solely one sided exchange. You are not a failure. You are doing so great, I’m so proud of you for doing what you have. Let me return the favor and take care of you now.” You reassured him as you suddenly noticed all four of his arms were circled tightly around you, holding you close and pressing you up against his chest as your thumbs stroked what you considered to be his cheeks. Careful not to touch his sensitive compound eyes.

“Ok,” Jaxon nodded as he realized he was clinging to you and tried to force himself not to do that but his body was warring against him.

“How about you stay here, take a break and just rest. And if you see a crab, in particular a coconut crab, kill it for me so I can cook it, because I love crab, I think it’s delicious but I have no idea if Jika can eat crab or not so it’ll be a new experiment. I’ll try to gather all that I can.” You offered before you kissed his mandables sweetly. “We’ll get through this and we’ll be ok, you’ll see.” You tried to encourage him as you got up and got out of his embrace and continued to search for what you could. The Jika had consumed the vast majority of garbage and plastics in the ocean, plastics being super versatile for their own technology and infrastructure and when the ships had been in the oceans, they had scooped up tons and tons of it and built new star ships out of it because they had a component to not only break it down into usable components but also rebuild with it. In fact there were still a few Jika ships in the oceans collecting plastic. Thankfully, what washed up ashore on this island was usable, you found some glass jugs and bottles and a small fishing net, fishing line and lures and some shoes, some flip flops that were a little big on you but would work for now and even a pair of goggles and so much rope, you were in great luck. You came back and Jaxon had succeeded in making a fire and seemed in much higher spirits now.

“See? You got it! You made a fire!” You cooed proudly as you put down all your stuff that you had collected as you helped him grow the fire and keep it burning.

“Now, should we go crab hunting or fishing?” You put to him.

“Which will be easier on you?” Jaxon asked.

“They’ll both be about the same. Coconut crabs can be scary but so can sharks.” You shrugged.

“Crabs then,” Jaxon decided and you helped him to his feet as you grabbed your spears and went looking for their holes and when you found one, you poked and prodded it until it came crawling out, it was by far the largest crab besides a king crab that you had ever seen before and you didn’t know if you your little spears could kill it or not before Jaxon buzzed angrily again and very quickly picked you up into his arms to sting the crab, his stinger easily piercing it’s shell and killing it without having to pump too much venom into the crab. You found yourself giggling, even injured he didn’t hesitate to ‘protect you’ from his perceived danger.

“Good job,” you praised as he seemed to notice as an afterthought he was holding you again as he awkwardly put you down but didn’t let you touch the crab at all, in fact he picked it up and held it away from you both.

“So you eat bugs?” Jaxon asked you warily as he eyed the now dead crab suspiciously.

“Uh, well, I guess crab looks like a...bug...doesn’t it.” You concluded with an apologetic look to him. “But I promise to never eat you.” You laughed nervously as Jaxon didn’t say anything to that and you just sighed in defeat as you walked with him along the beach before you found the cocoon he had spun for you wash ashore.

“Our cocoon!” You cheered when you saw it and tried to pick it up and haul it ashore, now that you could actually appreciate it, it was super soft and shiny, like silk and even wet it was still soft and squishy and fluffy. “Now if we can dry this out, we will have a bed.” You smiled brightly at Jaxon who seemed quite pleased with that and helped you drag it back to your base as you took the dead crab and put it onto the fire to cook so you could help him hang the cocoon in a tree so it could dry out.

“Please do not take offense but I do not trust your shelter, do you mind if I attach this to the tree so you could sleep in this? I believe I can make a waterproof layer to the outside so it will not accumulate or retain moisture, until we are rescued.” Jaxon offered.

“Are you sure? I can’t imagine how costly this was to you to make to begin with.” You posed.

“It will be worth it to me, please.” Jaxon returned.

“Ok, I trust you, do whatever you want to it.” You put to him and sat down by the fire and watched as the stinger in his abdomen was replaced with some sort of sprayer and as he sprayed it, all the water in it immediately came crashing out of it, splashing all over the sand under it as it once again regained it’s super fluffy, cloud like shape before he used his strength to make a palm tree which was already growing sideways turn just a little more bowed and attached the cocoon to the underside of the tree a few feet off the ground so that at least a foot of space separated the bottom of the cocoon and the ground, his abdomen replacing it’s sprayer with his silk spinning gland to do this as he orientated the cocoon so that you could easily slide in and out of it and sleep comfortably in it.

“You could make it big enough for the both of us you know.” You pointed out as you noticed he was narrowing the opening so that only yourself could crawl inside and closed up the bottom of it so you wouldn’t slide out of it either. He paused and made sure he could still fit inside before he seemed quite happy with his work and retreated to sit down next to you once again.

“Thank you.” You thanked him as you used a stick to move the crab around in the fire to make sure it cooked thoroughly before you pushed it out of the fire to let it cool so you could eat it as you went ahead and cut up some coconuts to drink the coconut water, offering one to Jaxon so he could drink some too, not wanting him to get dehydrated as he quickly drank his before you gave him yours before opening up a third and handing that to him too, on his seventh coconut, did he finally quench his thirst.

“I apologize for depleting our supplies.” Jaxon apologized.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s not that small of an island, there’s more coconuts, it’ll be ok, you just made me the best shelter ever with your own silk, that’s quite the toll on you. Of course you’d be thirsty.” You waived off with an adoring smile as you went and got more.

When you came back, the crab had cooled off sufficiently and Jaxon watched as you used a rock to crack the legs open before taking the meat out and ate it before you offered him some. He cautiously took it and tried it and you waited to see if he would be allergic to it or not and soon he devoured the crab leg you gave him, shell and all before he took off another and ate that too as you continued to eat the meat out of your leg before offering him the shell which he gratefully took and ate that too before he started eating the body and found the sack that coconut crabs had that contained oil and outright drank it and slurped it up, licking his arms and fingers clean as you ate your fill of the actual meat and just grinned as you watched him wolf it down.

“Good?” You asked as he nodded yes as he continued to eat the shell of the head, having slurped up the cooked crab mustard gleefully and couldn’t help but buzz happily.

“Very much so. I can’t believe we’ve been here this whole time and never ate them because we thought they were too much like ourselves.” Jaxon realized.

“Well, humans are similar in that we really don’t like to eat monkeys, chimpanzees or the like because we feel the same way about them, at least in the western world.” You offered with a shrug as you offered him the last shell which he took and quickly ate that.

“Would you mind?” Jaxon asked as he gestured to your hands which you nodded no before he carefully took your hands and licked them clean which made you giggle and squeal because you could tell he was trying so hard to be careful but you were so ticklish as you felt your cheeks burn as you made sure your hand stayed splayed so he could get at every inch.

“Thank you my queen.” Jaxon thanked you once he was finished.

“What?” You asked before he went ridged as he realized he said that out loud. “Oh Jaxon, you don’t have to think of me as your queen, I...” You began.

“But I want to.” Jaxon blurted which had your argument die on your tongue. “Please, I need, I need...you...to be my queen.” Jaxon whispered.

“You need me to boss you around?” You tilted your head curiously as you were trying to understand his request.

“No, well, yes, well, it’s complicated, most who get separated from the hive die because most drones don’t have the wherewithal to take care of themselves, to even eat or drink on their own so they don’t die without a queen telling them to do so through the hive mind. Our instincts when separated from the hive are always to return to the hive, without that, most just think death will be eminent and literally lay down and wait for death as they descend into madness without the hive mind. I’m different because technically I don’t need the hive mind and my brain is more advanced than a drone. But...I need...a purpose and usually my purpose needs to revolve around a queen and without that I’m...”

“Lost?” You supplied.

“Yes.” Jaxon nodded.

“Ok, well when we can get back to civilization, we can sort everything out, if you need me to be your queen for now, then that’s what I’ll do, you’re gonna have to help me, I’ve only ever ruled myself before so I’ll need feedback, I want to be a good queen.” You grinned as you hugged his arms again and looked up at him, smiling softly at him.

“You’ll be the best.” Jaxon encouraged you as he grinned back as you just sat there and watched the sunset, towards the end of it, he helped you up into your cocoon.

“Aren’t you coming in?” You asked him as he perched himself on top of the trunk so that he could look down into the cocoon though.

“No, I need to guard my queen.” Jaxon shook his head no.

“Oh, ok, well don’t go too far.” You teased as you laid down and got comfortable, using the inside folds of the cocoon to wrap up like a blanket since it was getting chilly outside.

“Are you sure you wont’ get too cold?” You asked as you laid your head at the opening so you could look up at him as you briefly flirted with the idea of dragging him into the cocoon with you despite his protest as your first ‘official’ order as his new queen but didn’t want to ‘abuse your authority’.

“I’m sure, good night Isthantari.” Jaxon bid you.

“Isthantari?” You repeated.

“It means ‘one I am devoted to’, it’s what we call our queens rather than their names, would you prefer if I used your name?” Jaxon posed.

“No, Isthantari is wonderful, I love it.” You grinned up at him from the entrance to your cocoon.

“Is there a title you would prefer I use with you or just your name?” You asked as Jaxon thought that over.

“No, Jaxon is fine.” Jaxon insisted.

“Ok, good night Jaxon.” You bid him.

The next day, any semblance of deodorant on your body officially died and you noticed Jaxon was becoming even more scatter brained whenever you were too close to him, like his brain wasn’t working at all and he would stand really close to you and fight with himself on whether or not to hold you before he would come to his senses and try to stay away from you for a little while before his body would be drawn to you again.

“Jaxon, can you please tell me what’s going on?” You asked as he had a look about him that scared you as he was currently hugging a tree and trying to face away from you and to you- he looked like one of those ants that had a parasite in it’s brain, making it act crazy which terrified you.

“No,” Jaxon answered as he tried climbing the tree to get some coconuts but was failing so you walked away from him and you noticed the further away you were, the better he did. So you shaved some coconut and tried to bathe in the ocean with it, putting the coconut butter/oil in your armpits and all over your body to help cover up your body odor to see if that helped, which it did. But Jaxon seemed downcast and disappointed that you did that.

“Jaxon, you need to tell me why my body odor is hurting you.” You insisted over lunch, this time eating a fish as Jaxon ate another coconut crab.

“It’s not hurting me.” Jaxon insisted.

“Yes it is! It’s like your brain and body break every time I’m around you and you can’t function, would it be better if I stayed on the other side of the island?” You asked.

“No! Do not do that!” Jaxon exclaimed as your scent was beginning to take affect on him again.

“Why? Even right now it’s doing something to you, could you please just tell me so I know what to do?” You pleaded.

“You smell like a queen!” Jaxon finally snapped. “Your body odor, it smells better than any queen ever has and it’s telling my instincts to mate with you. That’s why all the drones on the ship tried to swarm you, because you appear as an unattended queen to them and it’s why I encouraged you to wear perfume because it helped diffuse it but all it did was entrap me harder. I didn’t just save you because you were my friend- I was literally following instincts to save you as my queen, that cocoon, that’s what all the males make for their queen, she’s surrounded by a safe cocoon at all times and is guarded at all times and when she’s not eating, she’s mating and that’s why I’ve been pushing you to eat constantly so I don’t overpower you to mate with you- constantly. I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hurt you. You’re my Isthantari and I won’t just be devoted to you while we’re here on this island I’ll be devoted to you for life and it’s something I want to do and it’s something I need to do. I knew the moment I met you and smelled you that you were my queen, I just had no idea how strongly you would affect the hive, I thought it would just affect me, that’s why I walked so fast that first day, I wanted you to sweat to smell more of you but when I saw your affect on the others I knew I had made a mistake and so that’s why I encouraged you to wear more perfume. That’s also why I didn’t let you socialize or meet with any of the military because they would have realized that and taken advantage of you and put you on a treadmill to do nothing but sweat so they could harvest it and use it to take over the hive sooner and I know you would feel horrible and guilty over that since you put such a high value on family. When you had the royal jelly it just locked in your scent and that’s never happened with anyone before. My sister’s scent was so weak, I knew she would be overthrown by a stronger scented queen sooner than later, that’s why I never let you meet her because if she had met you, she would have realized you were stronger scented than her and would have killed you or at least tried her best to do so before her own consorts left her or killed her to make you their queen over the hive instead of her and none of it is your fault, you have to believe me, nothing is your fault.” Jaxon revealed and you gasped in shock as Jaxon just held his head in his hands as you sat there, stunned and just let this revelation wash over you for a few long moments before everything clicked in place and you realized something about yourself.

“Can Jika and humans even mate? Like are we...compatible?” You asked.

“Yes, Dr. Kimble and my brother mate all the time, he had the same reaction to her that I have to you and she was open to it but I know that with the wide range of human body types that it may not be possible for some human women to take on a Jika male’s sex organs.” Jaxon explained as you thought it over.

“Is this why you didn’t come into the cocoon with me last night?” You posed.

“Yes, because if I did, I would have mated with you then, that’s what males do, we get in the cocoon with the queen and mate in the cocoon.” Jaxon nodded.

“Oh,” you nodded in understanding before you realized that...you were open to it too.

“Well I’m not closed off to the idea.” You hinted as you as you scooted closer to him.

“Don’t tease me, please,” Jaxon pleaded desperately.

“I’m not teasing, I’m serious, will you go back to “normal” after you try mating with me?” You asked.

“Yes,” Jaxon nodded yes as he looked at you and felt yourself grow feverish under his gaze.

“Ok, show me.” You invited before he grabbed you and put you into his lap as a slit, that you thought was his waist attaching to his abdomen opened up and a large, bright purple, bulbous, clearly phallic penis emerged, it was coated in a slick, almost slime like substance and it smelled slightly musty yet still fruity sweet, the head looked like an extra large duck egg with big bumps on the top of the shaft and ridges on the underside with a large ball all the way at the base, slightly smaller than the size of your fist, it was very impressive and then what you assumed were his testicles, three of them, each of them the size a kiwi came and rested in the sand between his legs, you had no clue how he had managed to fit that into his waist or perhaps they were stored in the abdomen too. But they were out and on display and all of it still seemed to be throbbing and you felt yourself grow quite wet in anticipation because this was your first sexual encounter with an alien but you were fairly certain you could take him.

“Wow,” you found yourself grinning as you pulled up your nightgown and pulled off your underwear before you pushed him back slightly to make room for you to straddle his waist as you lined up yourself up and slowly came down onto him as you noticed his arms were around you once again and the lower arm’s hands were on your hips while your own arms rested on his shoulders as you slowly eased down onto it. His own slickness giving your own womanhood a tingly sensation, not painful at all but definitely enjoyable before he attached his mouth to yours and kissed you. Something his brother had encouraged him to do because humans loved kissing. Jika kissed too, but not nearly to the extent humans did and it was his brother’s favorite thing to do with Dr. Kimble. Jika had lips and a human like mouth underneath their mandibles so that once those were moved out of the way, you could kiss him back with relative ease and he tasted like...buttered toast to you for some reason, you quite liked it though and when you started to move, the tingly sensation amplified and heightened your own arousal and easily transformed this into the best sex of your life. The bulbous head rubbed against your G-spot and you threw your head back to cry out in ecstasy as Jaxon kissed and nipped at your ears, jaw, neck and chest before you realized your chest was...sopping wet and you looked down to see a soft squishy duct in his collarbone at the base of his neck stick out and was oozing what looked like pureed mango.

“Jaxon, what’s this?” You asked as you paused and pointed it out.

“That’s...my royal jelly, we excrete it during mating so that the queen can eat while mating, the sweeter the jelly, the longer she eats, meaning the longer we mate.” Jaxon explained as you stopped humping him to mentally take in that information.

“Oh my god, you mean that royal jelly I had before...” “Was mine, I was hoping you’d like it.” Jaxon admitted.

“You milked your own royal jelly, to...” you began.

“To impress you and woo you.” Jaxon confessed.

“So I can eat this now?” You asked as you gestured to it.

“Please do,” Jaxon invited before you licked it up from his chest after he licked your own clean and when you put your mouth over the gland and sucked, Jaxon moaned loudly and buzzed in delight and began moving you to keep riding him and you noticed, now it was more intensely sweet and downright addictive as you drank it down. Moaning and keening in bliss as you surrendered completely to him.

“Jaxon, I’m gonna cum,” you tried to tell him between gulping down mouthfuls of his nectar.

“Cum, please cum,” Jaxon pleaded desperately as he drove up into you, trying to get the biggest bulb at the base inside you and you couldn’t help but realize that you were about to be knotted, in a werewolf kind of way as you spread your legs as wide as you could and canted your hips a little and with one final push down the knot popped inside you and that sensation sent you over the edge and into climax as you inwardly constricted around it as your legs shook and you clung to him and keened and whimpered before your mouth was suddenly pumped full of jelly and you had to swallow several times to get it all down as some of it escape from the corners of your mouth as you felt your lower belly grow and distend as your womb expanded too, not nearly as painfully as it should have been, his cum giving a slightly cooling, tingling sensation, like mineral ice but delightfully subdued- as he pumped you full of cum, it felt really good actually as the royal jelly finally stopped coming as you pulled away and gasped for breath and panted as your head rested on his shoulder as he pet and massaged your body and nuzzled your face with his own as his antennae tapped the back of your head and your shoulder attentively.

“You did so good, I love you so much, I’m so proud of you, thank you so much my Isthantari.” Jaxon cooed to you as you both basked in the afterglow, the tingly sensation now amplifying your own orgasm and afterglow so that you still felt like you were still on cloud nine and weren’t gonna come back down for a long time.

“I love you too,” you cooed back as you pet him in turn as you felt yourself oh so slowly come down from your high and happily just let yourself rest in his embrace. This was epically good.

“That has to be the best sex I’ve ever had.” You admitted as he buzzed happily and you felt his feelers tap your head and back like crazy for a few seconds.

“Really? So you’ll want to do it again?” Jaxon asked excitedly.

“Well not right this second but later, yeah,” You confirmed as you raised your head to smile brightly at him as you felt his penis start to shrink and recede and once it plopped out, a literal cascade of cum fell out of you.

“Holy shit, that’s a lot.” You blurted when you looked down between you to see it’s ultraviolet holographic shimmering liquid that felt like a soft jelly and in fact you could have sworn you had a holographic jelly highlighter/ body glitter that looked exactly like this as you reached down to touch it before you swiped it onto your arm and noticed it behaved exactly like holographic highlighter while also providing you with a cooling relief from the sunburn you’d been trying and failing not to accumulate.

“Oh my god, it’s like my makeup.” You giggled.

“Actually when I saw you wearing your makeup I thought it looked like it and it turned me on like you wouldn’t believe. Which is why I was able to pump so much jelly out for you so fast while you were smelling the flowers in the botany area. You have to understand, that the moment I saw you, you were perfect, you smelled divine and you looked like the embodiment of sex and it was all the self control I had not to do this immediately. Also why I was so awkward because you were trying to be professional and I was warring with myself to either put as much distance between us and drawing impossibly close to you and obviously you see which side won out.” Jaxon murmured bashfully.

“Aw, you could have told me.” you fawned before you kissed him sweetly. “So it’s not disgusting if I kinda want to wear it? It’s actually cooling and giving me relief from the sunburn.” You posed.

“By all means, just don’t expect me to not want to have more sex with you, much more often.” Jaxon playfully warned as you giggled and quickly scooped it up and put it all over you, it did relieve your sunburn immediately and you stripped naked to put it all over your skin and even Jaxon helped put it all over your back and your butt, touching and caressing that part of your body very lovingly.

“Do you love my butt?” You teased him.

“Yes! I do, it’s so amazing and perfectly plump, perfectly befitting for a queen and so soft. Jika females are also very soft, their exoskeleton is very thin and delicate, which is why they must be protected at all times. And even your thighs are perfect.” Jaxon praised before he kissed them and your ass, making you giggle and squirm, you had always been self conscious for your big ass and thighs, but having a prince tell you that it’s perfect and divine sure did help you feel better about yourself before he moved around and caressed your belly too.

“This is one of my favorite parts though, I’ve been wanting to touch this since I first met you too.” Jaxon admitted as he nuzzled your belly gently before kissing it and especially your stretch marks lovingly.

“Really?” You asked as you pet his head.

“Remember, the bigger the queen, the more young she can have and the fatter she is, the better the males have done in caring for her, it’s a sign of success and prestige if a queen is huge.” Jaxon revealed in awe.

“Oh, well to humans, fat is seen as a bad thing, it’s taken as a sign of bad eating habits and laziness and how not in shape you are.” You told him with a frown.

“Humans are stupid sometimes, you are perfect, by any standard, I know entire races who would look at your body and see perfection and you would be hailed as a goddess to them.” Jaxon informed you.

“I’ll take your word for it.” You nodded. “I could go for a nap though, but we need a way to catch fresh water because I will need water eventually, I can’t drink sea water because it has salt in it and sea water will make me sick if I drink it.” You told him as you felt yourself grow so sleepy.

“Oh, ok, how about you rest then and I’ll work on the water thing.” Jaxon insisted as he stood and picked you up again and carried you back to your cocoon.

“Do you just like to carry me or something?” You asked curiously.

“Usually females are too big to walk on their own and have to be carried, and you’re so light and easy to carry, I could carry you with only arm if I needed to and yes, I love carrying you- very much so.” Jaxon explained as he helped you into the cocoon.

“Well ok then.” You nodded as you crawled inside and turned around and got comfortable as your eyelids grew heavier and heavier before you fell asleep because while the cocoon was perfectly warm at night, it was also very cool during the day and a welcome sanctuary to you. And once you were asleep, Jaxon literally bounced with happiness and let his wings unfold to reveal now perfectly repaired wings. The compounds in the crab’s exoskeleton was exactly what he needed to repair his own wings and it was even enough to strengthen his own exoskeleton and that oil from the crab was enough to fully lubricate his system, he could make you dozens of cocoons and a whole wardrobe of clothing with his own silk if you wanted it. He made sure you were asleep before he flew and retrieved all sorts of things from the ocean and from all over the island and even found a neighboring island and quickly collected all he could from there, killing a dozen more coconut crabs and hauling them back to your island. He had never been so happy in his life, his queen loved him. Jika queens usually only tolerated their consorts and viewed them as slaves, viewed everyone as slaves because they were. But you, no, you appreciated him and praised him and comforted him and cared for him and understood him and loved him and that was more than any Jika could ever hope for, ever dream of having other than their own satisfaction that they were serving the queen and the hive. He wanted to stay on this island for the rest of his life with you, screw the rest of the world. Once he could figure out the water situation you would be perfectly fine and happy. When he came back and saw you were sleeping still, he even went fishing and managed to kill a red snapper for you, feeling exceedingly proud of himself with that, being able to provide for his Isthantari so well.

You awoke to him throwing the coconut crabs onto the fire as he tried to take the scales off the fish, since you had talked him through scaling and gutting a fish already.

“Wow, look at you, now who’s acting like it’s another day at the office?” You gently teased him as you got out of your cocoon and got redressed in your pajamas and came over to him and helped him make you dinner as the sun was setting.

“So there will be another storm coming, I think I can spin some more silk to soak up the rain water, you can drink rain water- yes?” Jaxon asked.

“Yup, rainwater will be perfect, how did you know there will be another storm coming?” You asked in amazement before he pointed to his antennae.

“I can detect pressure in the atmosphere and wind direction, it’ll rain for most of the day tomorrow. The nutrients and components in all these crabs will give me what I need to make it through tomorrow without needing to eat and also provide you will all the jelly you could drink without taxing my system.” Jaxon informed you proudly.

“That’s great! Will it help with your wing?” You asked.

“….yes, but it will take time before I can fly again.” Jaxon lied but you believed him.

“Yes! That’s good though! I’m so happy they’ll help.” You grinned as you nudged him with your elbow.

“Yes,” Jaxon confirmed.

“Well then I’ll leave the crabs for you then, because you need them, I’ll just eat fish from here on out. I want you to heal sooner than later.” You urged him.

“I can still share them.” Jaxon countered.

“Well I won’t say no to some of their meat but the shells are of no use to me at all so you can eat all of those.” You beamed happily before you pulled him over to kiss his cheek affectionately as he in turn kissed the crown of your head back before the fish was completely roasted and he offered it to you and watched you squeeze some lime over before it cooled off a little and you got to eat it happily as Jaxon ate the crabs and offered you bites of the meat in the legs occasionally until you were both beyond satisfied and then you watched as Jaxon was able to eat not just the meat but the bones of the fish too, quite liking that and told you that the calcium and the cartilage would help him heal too. You watched him make a wide net between a several palm trees as he then layered on some fluffy stuff and sprayed only the bottom of it in all in a film in all but one part to act as a spout to catch the rain water so that it would retain the water on the top and not let any escape from the bottom.

“So how many gallons of water will this catch?” You asked as you came up to it and still marveled at it’s softness as you spread your hands over it and stroked it. It looked like the most amazing hamock ever.

“I don’t know, hopefully enough.” Jaxon shrugged before you both crawled into the cocoon, Jaxon once again curling around you as you curled around him in turn before you had sex again to wear yourselves out for sleep, his nectar providing the best dessert ever.

In the middle of the night is when the storm came, the crack of thunder waking you both up as his antennae once again tapped you all over your face and head to make sure you were ok.

“I’m ok, it’s just a storm, we’ll be ok.” You reassured him softly as you got settled back into sleep, the sound of the rain hitting the coating on the cocoon lulling you into a deep and restful sleep. When you woke up again, Jaxon was already awake, watching the storm out of the little hole as one set of arms, his lower set was still wrapped around your waist while his upper hands combed through your hair with his fingers, the action soothing him and the feel of your own hair pleasing his senses greatly. The queen also had fur like hair around her collar and liked to keep it impeccably groomed, but it was courser hair than yours.

“Hey you,” you greeted sleepily as he moved his head down and you watched his own irises move across his compound eyes to look at you, you realized they were like the eyes of a praying mantis like that.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Jaxon grinned happily.

“I am,” you nodded before you kissed him. “Hungry too.” You murmured into the kiss.

“Ok, I can...” Jaxon went to untangle himself from you before you locked your legs around his waist and grinded your center at that seam again.

“Both kinds of hungry.” You giggled as your tongue darted out to lick at that duct again to entice it out.

“Oh-ooh,” Jaxon giggled in turn as the duct and his penis and gonads emerged again, the head spearing your center easily as you wriggled down to seat yourself on it as a little of his own nectar dribbled out of the duct before you licked it up and sucked to get more, sticking your tongue into the opening to get it bigger and Jaxon groaned and bucked up into you and made you moan in turn as all of his hands stroked your body, from your breasts to your back to your hips, waist and ass as if he couldn’t get enough of you as he pinned you beneath him to really drive into you and before you knew it he had knotted you and then he buzzed and it his entire penis felt like one giant vibrator and it was the best thing ever and you were cascading down into your own release as you drank down his nectar greedily as you felt your belly distend again from getting pumped full, the discomfort you felt yesterday had lessened immensely last night and any discomfort now completely gone and your body welcomed it this time, the sensations only making your own climax more intense and longer lasting.

“Does that feel really good to you when I play with this with my tongue?” You asked as you gently touched the duct which made him shiver as you both rested and recovered.

“Yes, very much so, um, I believe the human equivalent is ‘erogenous zone’.” Jaxon tried to explain.

“Ah, that does explain it. Is that the only erogenous zone you have? Is there anything else I can do to help you feel good or feel better?” You asked curiously.

“Honestly this is the most physical contact with anyone I’ve ever had before. As a non consort to a queen, I could never hope to copulate, ever, with anything or anyone. It wasn’t until my brother realized that he could mate with Dr. Kimble that I had a hope of this happening for myself.” Jaxon explained.

“Oh, so do others just..masturbate? To please themselves sexually?” You asked.

“No.” Jaxon shook his head no.

“Do Jika get sexually frustrated then?” You asked.

“Honestly I never noticed anything until you came along.” Jaxon admitted.

“And if I didn’t smell the way I do and send your body and instincts into overdrive, you never would have considered it?” You put to him.

“Probably not no, my other brother Kin, he has no attraction to his female scientist, Dr. Wads- whatsoever.”

“Well Dr. Wads is in her 60’s and well passed menopause and a fridgid bitch whereas Dr. Kimble is in her early forties and probably approaching it, Dr. Wads is not sexually viable anymore and her body probably doesn’t give off the pheromones that mine does.” You explained as he looked at you in surprise.

“I didn’t realize that human women had such limits.” Jaxon countered before you had a very lengthy discussion about human reproduction as you learned more about Jika reproduction as well. But you soon began to fear that once you yourself went through menopause that Jaxon would no longer be interested in you and wouldn’t love you anymore and would likely move on to someone younger if you were still together by then. Many human men did that, had done that since the dawn of time. Maybe your own wishful thinking and hopeless romantic tendencies were making this out to be more than it was. But Dr. Kimble should be approaching menopause, so you supposed you would have to watch her and her relationship with her Jika closely.

When the storm passed you finally emerged to eat and restart your fire, Jaxon eating a few more coconut crabs all by himself as you used the glass bottles you collected earlier and filled them with water from the water canopy and were delighted when it worked perfectly. The next few days were a delightful blur of just eating, drinking, sex and sleep with a super big dose of you and Jaxon drawing even closer and getting to know each other much more intimately. Part of you almost didn’t want to be rescued from this paradise.

But you were...

#exophilia #alien boyfriend #monster boyfriend #alien lemon #monster lemon #Isthantari #Lemon #enjoy

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