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amyriadofleaves · 3 months

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୨ kenji sato — old habits die hard. ˚୧

synopsis : kenji sato breaks under the weight of new, unfamiliar eyes ─ foolishly confessing his love to the public. you, the one that got away, are stupid enough to fall into his trap. will you two ever be able to just be friends?

⌗ pairing : kenji sato x fem!reader ; warnings : alcohol consumption, sexual innuendos ; word count: 3k ; angst!!!

KENJI SATO, newly recruited, renowned and beloved baseball player of The Giants, is being interrogated to the bone.

“Come on, relationships have nothing to do with my career,” he sneers with a curl of the lip, guise of unease betrayed by the incessant movement of his knee concealed by the navy blue tablecloth.

A woman, clad in a blazer, follows up with her question. “They have everything to do with your career, Mr Sato. You return to Tokyo only weeks before your championship with the Dodgers. Why?”

The silent, yet deafening clicks of cameras give Kenji a pocket of air to swallow hard, clearing his throat into his fist. Perhaps it’s the heat of the moment, but he doesn’t realise that the baritone of his voice had been caught by the mic, blaring through the speakers. Not that it was his intention to shut the whole room up, but he’ll take his victories.

Kenji eyes his PR team in the back of the room, giving them the look they’ve been trained countless times to know he’s about to make a dumb move — after many close misses, perhaps this is the blow he deserves to take. “Ms. Wakita, right? Ever associate something you love with someone you’ve loved? Well — I’m simply here to feel a little closer to that someone. I hope you understand, Ms. Wakita, that I wish to not elaborate any further.”

He shoots a small smirk at the camera airing this conference live, hoping with some semblance of his untouched ego that you’d see it.

Ami Wakita eyes him with an amused look, penning down every word of his down to a T. Kenji Sato, sitting on the other side of the room, takes a generous gulp of water before plastering that shit eating grin that glitters amongst the sea of camera flashes. “That’s all for tonight, everyone. Keep your eye out for the Ken Sato on the field.” A subtle wink at the camera goes unnoticed by the man behind it, but certainly not by you.

Because nothing gets past you.

You chuckle nervously at the man seated next to you, the silhouette of your ex tracing every inch the projector can cover. Sure, word had spread about Ken Sato returning to Tokyo, but you thought it an utter sham; whether it was in the States, or home in Japan, gossip columns would and still will fight tooth and nail for ways of profit. And you, of all people, should know this well. Though hard to admit, his face swamped you with a multitude of emotions your trip to the bar was supposed to help with, but little Ken just had to ruin the fun — along with the pleasure your distraction, a white, tall, and borderline conceited man was supposed to provide you with.

Looks like that’s going to have to be another day, then.

“You a fan of that guy?” the man asks, brusquely pointing to the live broadcast.

Adjusting your top, you sceptically analyse the way his eyes dip to your chest, and your brows furrow as his gaze trails lower, and lower… “More than a fan actually.” your voice comes out meek, and you think this is how you broadcast your lie to the world. But your audience is a tipsy man with a shell for a brain, so what threat does he bring to you?

More than a fan, huh? It was definitely more than that. From late night drinks to advancements you swear on your whole being to not speak of, you think you’d consider yourself more than that.

Frankly, with no terms to address the man except for using the term ‘man’, you know nothing about the drunk specimen in front of you — and he knows nothing of you, either.

He scoots closer to you, arms rested against the bar table. The stifling scent of his cologne does nothing to drown the beer’s breath with every syllable coming out his mouth. “Well if you’re the fan you claim to be, how have you not recognised me yet?”

You almost scowl at his cockiness. It’s even worse than Ken’s! God. “Well, unfortunately, I only focus on the important players. ” Your words come out muffled as you take a shot of vodka, sliding it across the table to request for another to add to your tab. It’s your fifth, and you haven’t even started feeling fuzzy yet; this is going to be a long night.

The man, on the other hand, seems piss drunk — and given your observations, this is only his third shot.

Lightweight, you note, his flushed cheeks and lidded eyes a spectacle for sore eyes. You feel your heart constrict into itself; for a second, in your stupor, his face flits to Ken's. Pulling away from him, you turn your head to the couple sat in a booth to divert your attention, but it only makes matters worse — so you resort to shutting the world out.

“I could show you how important I am if you’d come over to my place,” the man mewls, slithering his hand onto your thigh. It’s awfully easy to catch his bluff, and you certainly aren’t buying that awful sneer.

A nervous, polite laugh leaves your lips before you swat his arm away with a chastising glare. “I think you’ve got this wrong. I don’t think you know how important I am.”

He begins to giggle, and he keeps on giggling until he’s caught by a snort. You can’t help but grimace. There are many things you aren’t sure of, but you know for a fact that there was absolutely no shot that this man was an athlete. “And just who might you be?”

A satisfied smile tugs at the sides of your lips. “That just gives you your answer. I’m too important for you, and our conversation is over.”

You grab your purse and slam a hundred dollar bill onto the table, swiping the man’s shot and downing your own shot and his at once. The buzz of alcohol numbs the burn as it travels down your throat.

He grabs your wrist with a quivering grip. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Haven’t you heard? I am the most demanded model in this city. So if you think you can win me over with sweet talk, you’re wrong.” You wrench the hold he has on you, and backhand him (though the swing is terribly calculated).

See, if you were sober, you would’ve held him to it — that he owed you. But with seven shots of vodka now finally working its way through your system, you let it slide.

Your stilettos click angrily against the marble floor, and you walk out with two lies.

The first: You weren’t at the bar for a good time.

The second: You definitely aren't a model at the biggest agency in Tokyo.

The bell tied to the handle of the door jingles as you storm out (with a concerning amount of difficulty) of the bar with your thumb out on the road.

“Taxi!” you shout, to no fruition.

After ten minutes of nothing, an orange taxi stops and swerves to your end of the sidewalk.

Stumbling into the taxi with nothing to show for the decorum you had seven shots ago, you slip off your heels and hug the headrest of the taxi driver. “To the Sato Residence please,” you command — or so you think you do — before keeling to the side and vomiting up your dinner.

“Ken. I don’t think that was a very good idea,” the supercomputer Mina reprimands, robotic arms reaching for her spherical head.

Ken maintains an unbothered pose with his arms crossed. “But it sure as hell was an amazing one.” He curtly taps the bottom of his couch with his heel to reach for a drink in his mini fridge, only for it to shine with the enthusiasm of seven coconut water cans.

“Ugh Mina,” he groans, sliding a clammy hand down his face. “Do you not have anything else?”

“Would you like it if I gave you water instead?”

This only spurs him to move both his hands to cover his face in what Mina detects is shame. She floats closer to him, the light of her eyepiece a stinging pain against the backdrop of dimness. “Is something wrong? I detect you are going through… some stress.”

“Yes Mina, yes I am! And it’s not ‘cause I just outed being in love with someone in Tokyo —” He trails off, digging himself into a deeper hole when hit with the realisation that Tokyo, out of the cities in Japan, is a small world of connection. Everyone knows everyone. Shit.

She reaches for a can of coconut water with a metallic arm and opens it, offering it to him. Ken, coming empty for excuses, accepts the drink, wincing as he sips it. “It’s ‘cause I still — nevermind.”

“Because you still what, Ken?”

“Goddamnit Mina. Do I have to spell it out for you? I still miss this girl!” He thinks of you and almost makes himself sick at the thought of you with another man; and for a sudden, lurching moment, he wishes he never had an imagination at all.

He slumps into his seat, peeking through the slits of his fingers, admittedly curious to see what the robot’s reaction to his statement would be.

Ken visibly wilts when she doesn’t move a muscle — or robotic limb, or whatever.

“Would you like for me to contact her?” “Yeah no, no.” He shakes his head, but stops mid-action. “Wait — how do you know who I’m talking about? I don’t think I’ve ever talked about her, have I?”

She floats around him as if in orbit, and pokes at his head. He whines out an ow! “You have. When severely intoxicated. Which is why I’m not giving you anything other than coconut water.” “God save me.”

And that He does, when Ken’s moping is interrupted with a ding of the entrance.

You rethink what you’ve known about yourself, and it’s that you certainly cannot take seven shots of vodka, and that it leads you to doing stupid things: like walking half a kilometre of an automatic bridge just to have it out with Ken Sato.

Any normal person would have walked the distance in less than five minutes, but it took you twenty. Still, in your eyes, pretty impressive. You give yourself a pat on the back; but for some reason, the intention is off and you’ve just slapped yourself in the chest. Way to go.

The alarm to his house doesn’t blare when you heave the gate open. Woah, since when did it get so heavy? You giggle to yourself, the prospect of no alarms going off an unimportant matter in the midst of your exhilaration.

Stumbling to his doorstep, your heels click sloppily on cement — confident stride muffled by the slurring of words you never knew existed in the first place. You feel your way to the entrance, sliding your hands across a bike — his bike. If your sight wasn’t blurred, you could spot a polaroid of a familiar face taped just a little to the left of the speedometer.

Your wandering hands lose hold of the vehicle and feel for the doorbell, and clumsy you misses the mark. Bullseye, your Ken would say, glimmering with all the love in the world when your arrow proved as accurate as your aim.

Leaning against a pillar, you almost slip forward before the door opens just in time. But instead of meeting marble, you meet the warmth of an embrace.

Seeing him in the flesh stirs something terribly nostalgic you could definitely use for vomiting in the taxi again.

“Hey, Ken Sato, how’s it going?” you mumble with your gestures sluggish — and ultimately, very miscalculated; so your attempt at sounding sober goes to waste the second you bump head first into the man who completely did not expect to see you.

Ken stumbles backward in both surprise and the sudden addition of weight on either side of his arms; and to him, you sound like a garbled mess. But above all, you’re still the same girl who cussed him out the first time you met.

You try to walk, but the attempt goes to shit, and you see a floaty thing manifest a bed at Ken’s own command. Crazy stuff. You almost fall for Ken’s offer to carry you, but you’re not one to fall back into bad habits.

When you sag onto the mattress, you see him crouch down so your face is level with his. “[Name], what happened?”

“You happened, Ken. Finally found me worthy enough to come back for? I saw your little speech about love at that press conference,” you seethe, ignoring how your words end in a quiver. Brimming, hot tears, betray whatever semblance of composure an intoxicated woman can hold for herself. Suck it up, you tell yourself — because if you needed to cry, it would not be in front of the reason.

This mantra doesn’t seem to hold for any longer than you think it will, because you finally find something that makes you break: his own, crestfallen curl of the lip.

“Hey, hey,” he starts, hesitantly reaching to wipe the tears staining your face. But seeing you after two years, such intimacy came at a price: your complacency. Would she want it? Want me? He thinks, eyes diverted so he wouldn’t have to bear the sight of someone he never knew as messy. Someone he never knew to break.

He, against all his strongest desires, retracts his hand. In some act of desperation, in some act of needing to feel him, you take his hand and press it against your cheek. He brushes the tears pooling around his thumb in slow circles, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You wouldn’t consider his words nothing, not after he mutters a quiet, incomprehensible ‘I won’t leave you. Not this time.’ under his breath.

Nothing gets past you.

“But you lied. And I believed you. Over and over —” you hiccup, your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries.

His voice softens a notch, and it's so subtle someone as wasted as you wouldn’t notice, but you find you notice it more than you would’ve with a clearer mind. “I know, I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Are you really? Because the last time I checked, you were the one who left me behind.”

He doesn’t reply.

He knows he should take your words with a grain of salt, and against his better judgement, he doesn’t. To be frank, he never did. Every word from your lips dripped with golden honey, and he still, against his better judgement, savours every last drop.

You choke up on a sob, and Ken rushes to trace lines from the cliff of your shoulder bone to the very tips of your fingers. It was something he used to do — a little joke between the two of you. Something you shook off as a placebo, and something he insisted helped you with your anxiety.

Or rather, the only way he knew how.

It was — and still is, the only way for him to level the wrinkles of your face, just so he could at least see you soothe in his arms — for some morbid part of him crunches up at the thought of this being the last time he sees you; in this state, delirious, yet, for lack of better words: painfully right.

“I just — I just wish we could go back to being us,” you croak, reaching to trace the fine lines of his face. Your touch blindly feels for the familiar: the dip from his jawline to the nape of his neck, the scar soldered into his cheekbone, the softness of his lips.

All rhyme or reason (if there was any to begin with) blurs into the fray, and the war raging in your chest comes to a standstill, docile in nature. You feel his Adam's apple bob against your touch, and your hand travels, and travels, until met with your comfort against the cacophony of searing voices.

The approach is slow and borderline sloppy — though you can’t expect much of it. It’s just how things were with the two of you. Your lips hover against his, before you give up everything you’ve ever believed in for a crash against his lips, the taste of vodka weaving into his veins (except that it’s not the vodka, it’s very obviously you).

He rounds around the curve of the bed to feel you, and you let his hands wander. Some part of you screams in reprimand — that for some inexplicable reason, you’d regret this in the morning. But why would you regret having everything you’ve wished for in the very palm of your hands?

That is exactly why.

The high is stripped from you like an angel of its wings, and you pull away, eyes puffy and lips swollen. “I — we can’t do this.”

He pulls away, brows knitted. “We can’t and yet we still are doing this! [Name], what is it you really want?” His eyes search yours for an answer, before he gives you that look again.

You smile, and this time, it’s beautifully real. “I don’t know. But it has to stop. We’re a mess, can’t you see?”

“Yes, we are. But that was our thing.” That is our thing, a voice inside him screams, but the words die on his tongue. Again, and again, his words fail him like he does a lost game.

Everything around you is a swirl of blocked colour, but you squint through the grain and push him away with a light nudge of his chest against your palms.

“And it isn’t gonna stop until one of us does,” you say, biting your lip from going back on your word.

“We can make it work. I promise,” he begs, reaching for your hands.

In an attempt to shrug off your daze, you rake a hand through your hair and reach for your purse that had fallen in the heat of it. “We loved each other, Ken. But I think we should stop convincing ourselves we still do.”

His eyes flit to the floor, and his tousled hair falls against his nose. And to a certain pair of people an arbitrary moment ago, they would’ve thrown themselves against all propriety upon white bed sheets with sun peeking through the blinds, and your fingers would’ve combed through strands of tousled, jet black hair that appeared honey like in the dawn.

Through the haze of your high, you catch a glimmer of hope you’ve never seen him have. “Please, you’re still drunk. Let us discuss this when both of us are in our heads, yeah?”

Tilting your head to the side, it is your only sign of complacency that he recognises amidst it all. Through your insobriety, your smile can only tell him just as much:

This is never gonna end, and we both know it so.

a/n: hello hello!!! please excuse the sappiness i've written the bulk of this at times where I shouldntve been awake GOD I blame it on the fact that this guy actually consumes every morsel of my SOUUL

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x you #ken sato #kenji sato #ultraman rising #ken sato x y/n #kenji sato x y/n #ultraman rising ken sato #ultraman rising kenji sato #ultraman

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gonzo-rella · 10 months

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Headcanons: Starting Your Freshman Year at Greendale and Joining the Study Group

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Requested by: Anon

Headcanons for being a new freshman at Greendale and becoming a member of the study group?

Ohh sorry i didn’t clarify! it doesn’t matter to me, i just liked the idea of the reader kinda being the baby of the group, so maybe everyone is in their later years at greendale?

Relationship(s): The Study Group (Jeff, Britta, Annie, Troy, Abed, Shirley and Pierce) x gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: References to underage drinking. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I started writing this literal years ago, but I rewatched the Community Christmas episodes today and it’s made me want to rewatch all of Community and start writing for it again. Not enough people write for it, and not enough people write gender-neutral-reader fics. This was like 90% done so it was a good place to start again. I went with making it so the reader joins the Study Group during season 3, since I had the idea of using the reader to replace Todd in the episode where none of them want to work with him. I haven’t followed the canon of season 3 verbatim, since it’d have made writing this kinda difficult (plus I haven’t seen season 3 in years). So, this is more general. I’m hoping to work through my list of Community requests from years ago throughout 2024, since I’m hoping to get more into the habit of putting aside time for writing.)

When you decided on taking Biology 101 during your first semester at Greendale, you were bound to learn of (and witness first hand) the notorious Study Group.

Your hope that you wouldn’t be roped into their borderline-narcissistic antics was killed when you were given Pierce Hawthorne as your lab partner.

To say he was annoyed would be an understatement.

Oh boy, did he make it known that he abhorred having to be your lab partner.

In fact, most of them seemed to hate the idea of being stuck as your partner, which was at least a little hurtful.

When Abed rearranged the lab partner pairings based on some mental computer wizardry, you got put with Jeff, who was a bit more subtle with his annoyance.

You spent most of that night standing there awkwardly while Shirley cried about being the least popular member of the Study Group, or trying to be some kind of mediator between these friends who you knew only from rumours and observing them.

You also had to rescue a turtle from being burned alive by Britta, which sent you over the edge into a fit of fury.

Annie was the one who apologised to you for everything, and, much to the chagrin of everyone else, invited you to join the study group.

Perhaps she didn’t expect you to take her up on the offer, but you did anyway.

Your first study session with them made them realise that you fit in well with the group.

Even Abed liked your presence, because he believed it ‘changed the status quo without being like when sitcoms add a kid character in a desperate attempt to boost the ratings’.

(He compared you to Frasier from Cheers)

For a while, though, you did feel a little isolated from the group, considering you were often the only one to comment negatively on the group’s questionable behaviour, which they saw as perfectly normal.

However, you adjusted to being in the group alarmingly fast, to the point of getting carried away in the Study Group mentality like the rest of them.

As the baby of the group, you were treated as such, despite being at least a bit more mature than Troy and Abed.

For example, if Jeff and Britta were in the middle of a heated discussion, you’d be told to ‘stay out of it’.

Abed, early on, would analyse you to figure out how exactly you fit into the group, such as deciding what archetype best describes you.

There’s also a chance that he would create and manipulate situations in order to test your personality.

Jeff would shut this down as soon as he figured out what Abed was doing.

In an effort to try and include you more, Annie would force each member of the Study Group to do an activity with you.

Annie invited you to a one-on-one study session.

(Also, if you’re taking any classes that she took in her first or second year, she’ll lend you her old materials, like notes, textbooks, study cards etc.)

Shirley took you to the mall with her and her kids, treating you like one of her own kids.

Troy and Abed introduced you to Inspector Spacetime, which you quickly became a big fan of.

(Watching it became a Saturday night ritual for the three of you)

Britta brought you along to a protest which ended in the both of you in jail.

(An irritated Jeff would have to come bail you both out, and Britta would beg him not to say anything about it to Shirley or Annie)

Pierce gave you $1000 to tell Annie that he’d taken you to the zoo.

Jeff invited you over to his apartment for beers, which resulted in you both getting wasted and having a tearful heart-to-heart with one another.

Despite adopting the Study Group mentality to a certain degree, you would be the least susceptible to the group’s dumbassery due to joining so late, which meant you’d often be the one to pull the group out of the stupid shit they were doing.

At the very least, you’d pull Jeff out of it, and he’d take the lead and sort out everyone else.

If you weren’t that close to your family, you’d probably spend holidays over at Shirley’s upon her insistence.

(I love love love the idea that she makes a custom Christmas stocking for you the first year you come over)

In a weird way, the Study Group became your family, albeit a dysfunctional one.

After your friends all graduated, you stayed in touch with most of them, even before you were reunited because of the Save Greendale Committee.

It’s safe to say that, even if you do join late, you’re still accepted as one of them, for better or for worse.

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blessedwithabadomen · 5 months

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in love with the mess - day fourteen

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : angst, fluff, overthinking, mentions of drinking, mentions of throwing up

length : 6k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens @sunsshinesunny

a/n : sorry about the delay!!! I'm going on holiday and it was all very stressful and hectic and then we had to figure out how to get to the airport tomorrow morning because the trains are suddenly not running lmao but here it is!!!

•••

day fourteen

“You… you told-”

Noah didn’t even manage to say it out loud. He didn’t need to. Oli and I were just as aware of the fucking blunder we’d just made. The one that might change everything now.

We should have told him earlier. We should have told him, period. Not risked letting him find out. We’d truly fucked up. Too wrapped up in our own happiness and love to really grasp the consequences. How ridiculously selfish of us.

The room had fallen awkwardly silent, or maybe the ringing in my ears was simply tuning out everything else. Either way, there were still people around us, people who had no business listening in to this, people who didn’t need to know anything about our situation. I wasn’t actually sure if anyone even cared - but all the people running around us were distracting at best. Oli seemed to think the same.

“My dressing room, now,” he simply said, no harshness in his order, yet none of us would have dared to decline.

No more words were exchanged as we made our way through the labyrinthine hallways of the arena. We didn’t touch each other, suddenly hyperaware of every single one of our movements, as if they would be watched and analysed and scrutinised. All of us kept our heads down as we passed by a multitude of people and the general vibe we were giving off seemed to do enough to keep everyone else away. We weren’t in the mood for small talk. Or any talk at all that didn’t include just the three of us.

Oli held the door open for us as we passed him, then shut it after he had entered himself. I’d never felt this out of place in my life. The chaotic, stuffed dressing room that had started to feel close to a second home, even if the actual location kept changing, now did nothing but suffocate me. All of us lingered in the middle of it. No one sat down. As if comfort wasn’t allowed.

“How long?” Noah’s voice seemed painfully loud in the quiet dressing room. The door shut out the noise from outside remarkably well.

“Two days ago,” Oli answered, as if it was no bother at all, as if this wasn’t potentially the most crucial conversation the three of us had ever had, but I could see it in his eyes, in the way he tried to hide his hands fumbling with nothing in particular. “I didn’t mean to say it, then. I mean, I love her, but it just tumbled out of my mouth, really.”

“We didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you,” I added. My whole body ached to reach out to Noah, but the fear of how badly the rejection would sting kept me frozen in place. “We meant to talk to you, there just… We didn’t know how or when. I know that’s the shittiest excuse ever. We should have made the right moment to tell you.”

“So what does that mean now,” Noah all but interrupted. His eyes were flicking back and forth between Oli and me, restless and nervous. He didn’t even seem to process any of the information we’d just told him, even if his brain was probably going a hundred miles an hour. “You two are… a thing. And you still fucked me this morning. Why?”

It was my turn to be stunned. Did he really not know? Was he so completely unaware? Or was he simply trying to shield himself, ignore everything that had happened between the three of us in the past two weeks? Because in my mind, there was no way he didn’t know that this was more than just the three of us fucking around. Or me and Oli getting together. In all the ways that we had complicated and confused this whole thing, it had always been about the three of us. Surely.

“Because we love you, you fucking idiot!”

The outburst pierced the silence painfully but it wasn’t until Noah and Oli both stared at me in shock that the realisation dawned that it had been my outburst. I was the one shouting these words. But as soon as it sunk in, I knew I wasn’t done. Some invisible dam had burst - I was going to speak my mind and I was going to speak it now. No more holding back for the sake of others or blindly agreeing for fear of rejection or letting anyone else take the lead.

“This wasn’t just some weird ploy to get Oli and me together and you get stranded on the sidelines. This has been about the three of us from the start and you know it. So what if Oli and I got there first. I’ve been ready to shout about my feelings for you from the rooftops for days now, Noah. But I didn’t. Because I knew it would scare you away. And I was desperate, Noah, desperate for that not to happen.”

I took a breath, trying to keep a hold of myself, trying not to unravel. I willed the tears in my eyes to disappear but all that happened was that one escaped me and dramatically slid down my face. Noah, somehow, was the first one to react, wiping it away so softly that another immediately followed.

“Every time Oli and I are alone, it feels like a part of us is missing. Like the bed is too big, even when it really isn’t. Or there’s a remark hanging in the room that you would make but you’re not there to say it. I don’t want to do this without you. I want you. I don’t know how this is going to work and I don’t really care because I know we’ll figure it out. I’m in love with you, Noah.”

I couldn’t deal with the way he was looking at me. Especially because I, for once, felt so completely, wholly unable to analyse it at all. Was it pity? Oncoming rejection? Insecurity? Love? I could only hope for the latter, but my emotions were running amok in my body and there was no certainty in anything anymore. In anything but the fact that I was so in love.

Noah was still standing in front of me, but his hand wasn’t on my face anymore and I missed it dearly. All I wanted was to throw myself into his arms and beg him to give the three of us a chance. But this was on him, and him alone.

“She’s right, you know?” Oli piped up next to me. He was much braver than me, pulling Noah close, putting his hand to the other man’s neck and letting their foreheads rest against each other. “We’re not complete without you. I… Noah, I’m in love with you. And, fuck, I never thought I’d say that to a man, but here we are.”

He kissed Noah then, deeply and passionately. It was all he could do. I only hoped it would be enough.

“We don’t want to rush you, Noah. But that’s where we’re at and I… I would hate for this tour to be over with unspoken things lingering between us. So, I don’t know, take some time, talk to us or don’t if you need to be by yourself, whatever you need. But, please, think about it. About us. It’s the only thing I’m asking you for.”

Noah nodded, keeping his head hanging low and staring at the ground now that Oli wasn’t holding him up anymore. I let my hand drift to his jaw, making him look at me. I simply needed to press a kiss to his mouth. The chances that I might not get to do it again were too high.

He felt sweet against me, reciprocating the kiss with a familiarity I had grown so accustomed to. But he didn’t initiate anything else. I let go of him and stepped back.

“I’ll give you an answer. Tonight. I promise.”

Believing in him was all Oli and I could do.

•••

It felt wrong to sleep alone. If I’d already been lamenting the fact that Noah was missing when it was just Oli and me, I’d completely forgotten just how awful it would feel to have neither of them next to me in bed. The cold was seeping into my bones, one that couldn’t be fixed with any number of blankets or heating in the room. I missed feeling their bodies around me, feeling the mattress move every time they shuffled. Missed their hands on me, their chests pressed against my own and my back. Their slowing breathing filling the room with the slightest noises that had me drifting off to sleep so easily. Now I was too cold and the room was too quiet and my brain was too loud.

We had tried to be reasonable about it, really. We’d gotten a ride back to the hotel together and while I tried to savour every moment with them, it had been the most awkward situation we’d managed to find ourselves in just yet. When we had lingered in the hotel hallway, unsure of how to proceed from here, Noah had said that he needed some time to think, alone, and that it would probably be for the best if he just went back to his room with Jolly. We’d bid him goodnight, not attempting to kiss or hug him or initiate any other physical contact, and he’d ended up waving before walking down the corridor. Like a stranger.

Then it had just been Oli and me, again. I’d made him hold me, for a while, needing the closeness and the reassurance that we could somehow be fine whatever happened now, but we didn’t talk. Only to agree that we should sleep separately for once. It simply felt… wrong to allow ourselves to spend the night in an attempt at what would hopefully become a steady relationship when Noah was still struggling and confused and neither part of it nor outside of it. Plus, I knew fully well that we would end up talking the whole night, not getting a wink of sleep and instead stressing ourselves out even further.

Not that I was getting much rest on my own now.

Picking up my phone, I once again, for what felt like the seventieth time that night, opened our group chat. There wasn’t very much in there to be honest. Most of the time, it was easy enough to locate each other in the venues or their rooms. And if I was looking for someone specific, I usually ended up texting just that person. The other one was probably with one of us already anyway.

Still.

My fingers hovered over the screen. And then they typed, before I could stop them. I clicked the sent button as soon as the last letter had appeared. Just to make sure I wouldn’t back out again. Then I chucked the phone as far away from me as I could while still being able to hear my alarm in a few hours and turned around, hoping for sleep to come, hoping for my brain to give me some peace for at least a while. Hoping those two men would feel the same way I did when they read my message.

I miss you already.

•••

I ended up running late which was something that rarely happened and tended to be in my top ten most stressful situations in life. I had been so preoccupied with leaving on time or at least not too late to make my flight to Dublin that I didn’t even remember to check my messages until I was in the car to the airport.

Noah Can we talk tonight? The guys want to go out but maybe after?

There was about an hour of nothing in the chat, I presumed Oli was asleep or simply not checking his phone at that time, before another message from him came through.

Noah I miss you too Both

Then silence, again, for a few hours. Oli had apparently gotten up earlier than I had and, somehow, had been more organised. Or at least enough to text.

Oli Think everyone’s keen on going out tonight We can meet up at the hotel afterward? My room? Please don’t make me stay on my own again, I couldn’t even get any rest without you (Aubrey) clinging to my shirt until it almost choked me and you (Noah) terrifying me with your sleep talking in the middle of the night

I wasn’t going to cry in the cab. Even if I did end up clutching the phone to my heart as if it physically held the people I loved and not just the messages they had left. Maybe it was going to be alright after all. Maybe we could make this work. Maybe, even tonight already, we would be right where we were supposed to be - next to each other.

I didn’t get a chance to reply as the driver pulled up to the airport. But I would get to talk to them later tonight, at the very latest. And that made my heart that little bit lighter.

•••

“I’ll let you know that I was only slightly panicked about you missing the flight,” Becky said as I reached my gates, mere moments before boarding was about to start. I huffed at her, pretending it was because I was shocked at how little faith she had in me, not because I was legitimately out of breath.

“Which would have been annoying but not the end of the world, pretty sure there's more fights from here to Dublin than just this one today.”

“Not if they all get cancelled because of the storm.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “Storm?”

“Yeah, it's pretty windy already so it's not clear whether later flights will go ahead. Wait, you don't look too well - are you- are you afraid of flying?”

“I'm afraid of turbulences,” I admitted.

“Well, then,” Becky said, reaching into her bag as she ushered me towards the counter where they'd just started boarding. “Here's to hoping your surprises will keep you occupied!”

“Wait- plural?”

She didn’t feel the need to answer me as she instead pushed me forward to get my ticket checked and then ushered down the way toward the plane. I was already on the aircraft when she caught up with me, briefly waiting as I took my assigned seat in the middle, which was only bearable because the window seat was taken by Noah. He sent me a tired smile, making me wonder how much rest he’d gotten during the night, as I slid into the row.

“Have fun!” Becky squealed, putting a folder in my hands and vanishing down the aisle of the plan before I could stop her. I briefly looked from the now vacant spot to the folder to Noah, who had a small but knowing smile on his face.

I quickly stored my luggage and got comfortable - as comfortable as possible on a flight - and only got briefly interrupted when Oli walked down the aisle next to me, throwing a kiss in my direction the way he had done the night before, then throwing another to Noah, who accepted it with the blush I had grown to love so much on his cheeks.

“Do you know what this is about?” I asked as more and more people filled up the plane, boarding finally finishing and the crew getting ready for takeoff.

“Maybe,” he chuckled, giving me one more look that I couldn’t quite get a grasp on, then busying himself in the comic in his hands, one I recognised he’d bought on our trip to Forbidden Planet a while ago.

Realising I wasn’t going to get any more information out of him, I decided I might as well try to preoccupy myself with figuring out what exactly Becky had given me during take off. It was the worst part of the flight anyway. Well, minus the landing. And any turbulences.

However, there simply had to be one more interruption.

“Is this seat taken?”

Confused, I looked up from the folder, already questioning what sense that question could possibly make on a fight with assigned seating, when my eyes spotted-

“Lia!”

I tried to jump up but the seatbelt I'd already buckled painfully pulled me back. Noah quickly reached over to undo it as I stood up, folder almost crashing to the floor, my arms wrapping around my best friend as if I hadn't seen her for years. It felt like it.

A stern look from one of the flight attendants had us sit down immediately, getting settled and ready for take off.

“What are you doing here? I don't understand!”

“Did you know Becky is super nice and also definitely able to bully people into giving her my number and telling me to get my ass here?”

“Wait, so-”

“Well, apparently Oli requested my presence too,” she continued, completely unfazed by my questions, “and we both know he's asking for you and not because he loves me so much. Also the hotel had a free room for the next two nights, how handy, right? So here I am, taking you out drinking tonight and trying to punch some sense into all of you guys. Hi, Noah!”

Noah waved awkwardly and then handed me back the folder I had almost forgotten about. He just have caught up when I'd almost dropped it.

“Have you read it yet?” Lia asked, almost jumping in her seat. I shook my head and then buried it in the papers in front of me.

Nothing made sense.

I skimmed through the pages, then back to the first one, as if it might just have been my English skills inexplicably leaving me, but no. I was seeing - and reading - correctly. With a frown so tight it almost hurt the skin on my forehead, I read through the contents, properly now, absorbing every word.

I wasn’t sure how long I took, flipping through the pages, back and forth, just to make sure I was reading correctly, that I wasn’t hallucinating these words, that this was for real.

“This- I mean… I-”

“You're getting an apprenticeship, Aubrey!” Lia shouted so loudly that someone from the row in front of us turned around with a frown. “Becky asked the company she works for and they're offering it to you. Said that the past two days were basically your try-outs. You're gonna be a sound technician! Well, if you accept, of course.”

“Oh my god,” I mumbled, flipping through the pages again, and again. This whole thing felt like a fever dream I was not ready to wake up from. “And in a few days I would-”

“Come on tour with us and shadow Becky,” Noah completed my sentence. “Not the most conventional way to start learning the basics, but when have any of us ever been. Conventional, that is.”

I didn't have time to think about the implications of his words or how they could translate to a completely different issue too. All I could do was put a hand over my mouth in shock and cease to fight against the tears that were starting to spill down my cheeks in abundance. Both Noah and Becky hugged me as much as they possibly could with all of us stuck in our seats. Even the turbulence couldn't faze me anymore.

Life might actually be looking up.

•••

If there was one thing Lia knew how to do, it was how to keep me occupied and distracted. We spent most of the day chatting, which included a lot of me rambling about my chaotic love life - I only cried once - and her fawning over her wife and how she needed a change of occupation too. On top of that, we decided to have lunch at the hotel restaurant, where we promptly bumped into Becky, who allowed me to ask all the questions about the internship offered and then almost bowled me over in my chair when I asked the waiter for a pen to sign the contract straight away.

Since all of us had the night off, we ended up agreeing over several different group chats to go out big style - crew, Bad Omens, Bring Me The Horizon, well, and Lia. Even though she had a room of her own, she’d practically gathered half her suitcase and made a home in mine as we got ready together.

Yet, all she seemed to do was veto every outfit I showed her until we finally landed on an oversized pullover I used as a dress (just about sexy enough for her, comfortable enough for me, who wasn’t actually looking to attract anyone new that evening) and a pair of fishnet tights that would do nothing at all to protect me from the January cold but would hopefully look less out of place once we were inside again.

“So, what’s the plan with Noah, then?” Lia asked as she dropped down on my bed, spilling some of the setting powder in her hand and then trying to rub it into the duvet as if I hadn’t seen. “Because all I see right now is you and Oli sitting around waiting.”

“What else is there to do?” I sighed. I genuinely felt at a loss. We’d put the ball in his court. We’d told him how we felt. We left the decision up to him. But would all of that be enough?

“What’s the biggest issue right now? Like, what’s his fears?”

“Probably that Oli and I have a stronger connection with each other than either of us has with him. That we already know each other so well that he’ll be the one left out.”

“Sounds like you guys need more time together. The three of you. Completely ignoring what you and Oli might know about each other from before and just focus on finding yourselves in this relationship now.”

The silence lingered for a moment as both of us got lost in our thoughts, the mascara I was in the middle of applying now forgotten in my hand. I stared at myself in the mirror, made up and dressed up, and wondered who I was. Someone in love. Someone who was willing to fight for it. I was so over being passive.

“What can I do?”

“Well, first of all, put mascara on the other eye too because you look very asymmetrical.”

I rolled my eyes but did as she said, knowing that if I got too carried away, I’d completely forget about the rest of my makeup anyway.

“Give yourselves more time?” Lia offered.

“Tour ends tomorrow,” I thought out loud. “The Bad Omens tour isn’t until the 27th and the flight to Berlin is on the 26th. Now, I know Oli is completely free the next few days and I can ask around again but I’m pretty sure Noah has a break until then as well.”

Lia simply let out a hum in the background of my monologue, just to let me know she was still listening as I started scrolling through my phone, typing and searching.

“Fuck it,” I decided. “I’m booking us a family room for the next few days after tour. Nice hotel, just outside of Dublin. No distractions, no one else we know around us, no shows, no appointments, nothing. Just the three of us. There. Booked. Do you think the hotel can print something for me?”

Lia looked at me like a proud parent which was unnerving at best but I ignored it.

“I’m sure Oli would love to go and ask with you,” she grinned as I pulled on my shoes and was already halfway out the door, jacket and bag at the ready.

“Meet you downstairs in a few?”

“Will do! Don’t get distracted by Oli’s dick!”

•••

“What if he doesn’t even notice?”

“Of course he’ll fucking notice.”

“You don’t know that! He might not look this way and then just stumble over it!”

“What if we knock?”

“But we’re supposed to drop it off without him seeing!”

“Fine. I’ll knock and we’ll run and hide around the corner.”

“What are we, five?”

“Yes. I’m knocking now.”

I quickly dropped the printed paper along with the post-it stuck on top to the floor as Oli all but pounded on Noah’s hotel room door before bolting down the hallway with me and stopping just around the corner, pulling each other to safety and then peeking around just as we saw him step out, confused. We stayed hidden until we heard the door fall back into its lock and then spared another glance to make sure he had picked up our notes.

“You think he’s going to do it? Come with us for another few days?”

“Well, a luxurious hotel and both of us, he’d be stupid to refuse,” Oli chuckled, but I could tell the anxiety weighed on him just as heavily. There wasn’t much more to do, really. We’d told him about our feelings. We wanted to spend the small break that all of us had together, no distractions, just getting to know each other better and figuring out how this could work. It was truly his turn now.

“Come on, stop worrying that pretty head of yours so much,” Oli said, pressing a kiss to it. “Let’s get Lia and see what Dublin has to offer, yeah?”

I simply let myself fall into his arms a little as he led us toward the lifts, ready to forget about the ache in my heart just for a while.

•••

The night ended up not being all that wild, after all. Everyone was feeling the exhaustion from the past two weeks on tour. It didn’t mean that the pub we had all gathered it wasn’t in danger of running out of spirits, though. The mood was high and the volume in the room seemed to be getting louder by the minute. I’d already saved various people from Lia various times because if someone didn’t know how to shut her mouth when intoxicated, it was her. I’d currently lost track of her once again which was slightly worrying, but the more drinks Becky was providing me with, the less I cared. Her husband wasn’t back company either, although he seemed ever so slightly overwhelmed with the rowdy crowd around us.

“Are you excited to go on the Bad Omens tour then?” He asked, an arm around Becky, who was currently distracted by someone else who was telling her about some sound system or other, and I only briefly let myself fall into the yearning of having that kind of stable relationship, the kind of love that people would see from miles away without any of us doing anything, the kind of connection that shone through even when we weren’t talking.

“Did everyone but me know about this?”

“Well, yes,” he laughed. “As far as I know it was a joint venture, Becky, Lia, Oli and Noah all huddled together to make this happen. I guess you’re very loved.”

“God, don’t make me sappy now,” I chuckled but it was nothing but an attempt to keep the tears at bay. I’d been crying entirely too much lately, for a number of reasons, and I was getting a little tired of it.

I excused myself momentarily, citing a bathroom break, but found myself standing outside the pub instead. The cold air sent shivers up and down my body, but I didn’t mind all that much. It was a nice reminder that I wasn’t only in my head. That I was here right now. I flinched when a hand landed on my waist, a gesture so strangely intimate I knew it to be Noah before I registered anything else.

“So you two really want to spend more time with me alone after this tour?” he asked, jokingly, but he couldn’t fool me. I could see the insecurity in his eyes, in the way he stood, in the way his hand lingered on my body without quite grabbing it.

“Noah, love, I’ll always want to spend more time with you.” My hand was on his chest now, hard and lean under my fingertips, and it took all the strength I possessed not to pull him in and kiss him stupid. “If your tour wasn’t coming up so soon after, I’d probably have booked us in for a month.”

His fingers ildly played with the fabric of my makeshift dress. “Maybe-”

The door from the pub banged open with more force than it should have been able to. A rather tipsy Lia stumbled out, obnoxiously pointing at Noah as she came over.

“You! Folio threw up on the bar and they’re kicking him out and I’ve been told you’re the one to bother. He needs to get back to the hotel and you guys are sharing right? Come on. I’ll help.”

Noah sighed, deeply, but looked at me once more before turning away. “Can we talk later? The three of us? Not in my room though, for obvious reasons.”

“Sure,” I chuckled. “Oli’s room later? We can shoot you a text.”

“Perfect,” he said and then he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips and I could really believe this was going to work out.

•••

The night was dying down earlier than I would have expected, but both Oli and Mat kept loudly complaining that they were not 25 anymore after all. I bit back a comment about how that luckily hadn’t impacted Oli’s performance in bed. As more and more people started leaving, Oli clung to me, leaning his body on me with much more force than necessary, then giggling at the way I almost buckled under his weight. He was a little tipsy, just on the verge of it, and it made him all kinds of needy and whiny. Although I wasn’t quite sure if that was actually down to the alcohol or if he was simply in a mood.

“I want Noah,” he mumbled into my ear as he rested his head on my shoulder. It seemed horribly uncomfortable with the height difference, but I patted his hair in what I hoped would be a calming and reassuring gesture anyway. “I miss Noah.”

“I know, baby,” I cooed. “Do you want to go back to the hotel? I can shoot him a text.”

“Please.”

The cold outside seemed to wake and sober him up considerably as we got into a cab to get back to the hotel. He immediately pulled me into the middle seat, claiming the distance was simply unacceptable.

“Thank you for helping with the job situation, by the way,” I whispered, as if it was a secret, just for the two of us. “The job, offering me a place to stay, getting me on this tour in the first place… I really don’t know how to ever thank you for everything you do for me, Oli.”

He grabbed my face then, gently, so I would look at him. Then he kissed me so deeply that I was getting lightheaded, all sensations swimming through my brain in one big mush as I allowed myself to drown in them, knowing he was holding me and keeping me safe.

“You could keep on loving me, that’s all I’ll ever ask for.”

“Well, that’s going to be very easy,” I giggled, pressing a kiss to his nose right as the driver announced our arrival.

The hotel was quiet as soon as we left the reception area. I wondered if Noah was still busy taking care of Folio. If I should text him immediately and ask him to come over. If he wanted to talk to us yet. My train of thought was interrupted when we arrived on our floor and none other than Lia left Noah and Folio’s room, quickly running over to us as I shushed her for being too loud in her heels.

“He’s finally stopped puking,” she gleefully announced. “I’m off to bed now. Noah… Well, get to your room. He’ll get in touch?”

“He’ll- what?” I asked, but Lia was already bouncing down the hallway again, refusing to stop for clarification. Oli simply shrugged his shoulders as he unlocked the door and held it open for me.

It only took a few moments.

The knock wasn’t as much as a surprise, considering we were basically waiting for Noah, but the fact that no one was there when we opened it felt a bit comical. Especially when we realised a folded up piece of paper was on the floor in front of us.

“This feels like payback,” Oli laughed breathlessly, quite obviously just as nervous about this as I was. I refused to let the overthinking get the better of me though as I bent down to pick it up and unfolded it while Oli closed the door again. When I saw the amount of text, I ushered him in the direction of the bed so we could sit on the edge and read it together. He had to help hold onto it so we could still be make out the words amid my shaking.

Aubrey, Oli, my loves.

I’ve spent the last day doing very little else but think about everything. I’ve been trying to find a winner in the war that kept waging in my head but it seemed impossible.

Well, Lia didn’t allow that. She’s quite a force, isn’t she? As soon as Folio was in bed, she basically held me at gunpoint (figuratively) while she told me what she thought about the situation and how much of a “fucking useless idiot” I was being. Then she made me write a pro and contra list on the back of this page because apparently that’s what she does when she can’t make a decision. I’m not sure if buying a new phone quite compares to this, but I humoured her. And I think it helped. Just don’t tell her that.

Noah

There was a slightly messed up heart drawn next to it. The hope was rising up in my throat like bile, threatening to make me throw up just from the sheer terror and excitement about what was happening. We were so close to an answer. This was the moment.

Oli nodded at me to turn the paper over as soon as he was also done reading. He looked white as a sheet and I was sure my own face mirrored it. My shaky fingers only got worse when I flipped the page over.

There was indeed a list in front of us. Lots of entries on the “pro” side. Ranging from “They make me laugh” to “I feel safe with them” and “They know I’m scared and they don’t mind”. The contra side was shorter, but still held a few bulletpoints. “The distance”, “Third wheel” and “How to make this work??” were scribbled there.

But none of that was the important part.

The important part was that the list had been crossed out, liberally, with a massive “x” over the whole page, making it a little harder to read some of the points. And in the middle of it, almost from one corner to the other, covering even more words, he had written one single sentence. One sentence that seemed to count more than all the others. That made everything else not matter. That made clear that he had come to a decision.

I AM IN LOVE WITH THEM.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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joocomics · 8 months

Text

ಬ why did you drink?

pairing: coworker!jiseok x fem!reader

genre: smut — mdni! wc: 1.2k

contains: light enemies to lovers trope, exhibitionism kink, non-idol au, alcohol consumption, oral (f!rec)

The worst thing that could happen is the bottle to point at you, and that’s exactly what happens. It seems that you can never hide from Kwak Jiseok.

Well, technically he didn’t do anything this time - it’s not his fault that the bottle stopped where it shouldn’t, unless he’s secretly gifted with a superpower you were not aware of, and he craved to get on your nerves even outside of work.

Nevertheless, you’re frustrated - with his smug smile, almost devilish sparkling eyes, plump lips that you keep seeing in your dreams.

“Ohhh, I can’t wait to see this.” Seungmin, a mutual friend of yours, bursts out from the circle you were sitting in, but your friend bumps the guy’s shoulder to shut him up. He’s not intimidated by her warning though, and begins to chant at you and Jiseok to kiss.

Of course, everyone else starts to do the same.

You look at the shot sitting in front of you on the floor, then at Jiseok, then back at the shot again.

He keeps staring at you with a challenging expression, secretly enticed by how long it takes you to make a decision.

You pick up the glass and gulp the shot, scrunching your face. The group instantly hoots disappointingly at you.

“Damn, sorry dude.” Amused Seungmin pats Jiseok on the back while he on the other hand grins unbothered.

The next moment it gets worse.

When you see Jiseok turning to the girl on his left and kissing her with an open mouth, you wish there was a way the ground could open and swallow you whole. Your insides begin to burn from the sight of his hand on her cheek, and his tongue sliding between her lips; it burns just the same as when your throat was inflamed by the alcohol seconds ago, but everywhere. And although you know you shouldn’t give in to the emotion, because there’s nothing between you and there never was, you still let it consume you.

Thankfully someone calls for a break, cause you’ve been playing for a while, and you manage to escape.

Jiseok pulls away from the kiss turning in the direction of your seat only to see that it’s empty, because you’re already headed alone towards the balcony.

“Go away,” you whine, turning back around to the night sky.

“What if I don’t?” Jiseok comes next to you and whistles at how high it is.

“I might push you and go to jail. Doesn’t sound too bad to be honest.”

“Why did you drink?” He asks still smirking at your comment.

“Why did you kiss her?”

“I asked first.”

It’s because you didn’t want your first kiss with him, if there ever was going to be one, to be during a lame drinking game with multiple eyes on you. You didn’t want it to be a dare. You wanted it to be intimate and more than anything - real.

“If I did you were just going to use it against me at some point…” you turn to him, raising a brow.

Jiseok nods thoughtfully, slowly shifting his fixated gaze away from your face.

“True,” he mutters, pressing his lips together.

You roll your eyes at him and relax your elbows on the railings. For a while you stay in silence, just gazing at the night sky. It was uncommon for you both to stay quiet for so long without picking up a fight, but surprisingly not uncomfortable.

“There are many stars tonight.” You think out loud, watching the sparkling dots.

Jiseok can’t be bothered looking at them right now. Not when your bare arm is almost touching his; or when your hair is moving hypnotizingly from the wind, exposing the side profile of your face he learned to analyse almost each and every expression of. Well, mostly the angry ones, but they were even more irresistible.

“What if I want to?” The question drops from his tongue.

You turn to the side confused, but only to see him staring down in the distance.

“Want what?” You ask.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

You gulp nervously after he leans forward. His alcoholic breath is now sticking to your lips which are so close to his… But for some reason he doesn’t do anything to cut the miniature distance that’s separating them. He only brushes his features against yours, building up the tension between your bodies till it becomes insufferable.

“Do you…” you mutter into his slightly parted mouth. “Do you really want to?”

You hold your breath, feeling the bridge of his nose touching yours.

“Y/N, I want to do many things to you.” Jiseok says, gripping the steel railing behind you.

He relishes the way you lick over your lips after you hear his words; the way your hands slowly, but surely move forward to feel his shoulders.

“Just tell me if you want it too.” His lips lightly touch yours, but not in a kiss. Just a small fragile touch; enough to give you a small taste of what it could be.

You’ve dreamt about this for so long that it feels like you finally found the missing piece of a puzzle after with no hesitation you just go for it.

Jiseok brings you as close as possible by the waist, making your heart skip a beat. He’s completely focused on your sweet taste coming from your tongue that leaves him breathless. All of these months spent in fighting and competing over the most petty and trivial things made him crave you so much more, that now he became completely addicted to you just from one taste.

“Fuck, don’t do that.” Jiseok grunts after you slip another muffled moan into his mouth. “Don’t baby, you’re making me hard.”

He moves lower down your neck to bite on the surface. His teeth graze your skin, suck hungrily up and down creating pink and reddish marks he can enjoy the look of tomorrow when you see each other for your shift. His hands are busy gripping your ass obsessively with force that has your tight dress lifting up.

It’s like he wants to make it difficult for both of you.

How are you supposed not to moan? How is he supposed to stop?

Jiseok shoots a quick glance behind his shoulder. The door to the balcony is closed and no one can see anything from the curtains unless they decide to come look for you.

He moves your skirt up to your tummy and slips your panties down. The chilly breeze brushes the area between your legs bringing you goosebumps, but Jiseok doesn’t waste time, and quickly warms you up by running his tongue between your folds. He laps your slickness creating a mess on his face and buries his mouth as much as possible when you lift one leg giving him bigger exposure to your heat.

“Can’t help it, baby, I need to taste you.” His voice finds you in the dark with a hint of desperation. “I’ve wanted this for so long…”

His palms crawl up your thighs just like they always did in his fantasies - the ones he created in his mind during the long hours of his shift.

You throw your head back holding tightly on the cold steel, as his quick tongue concentrates on your sweet spot making all the frustrations you went through together totally worth it.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

#— writing: xdinary heroes #ofc i used his new selfie for this what did u expect #xdinary heroes smut #xdinary heroes hard thoughts #xdinary heroes hard hours #xdh smut #xh hard hours #kwak jiseok smut #gaon smut #jiseok hard thoughts #gaon hard thoughts #jiseok x reader #gaon x reader #xdinary heroes x reader

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alittlebitofloveliness · 5 months

Note

Stevepop social media au is actually such a cool idea, I crave to hear more of your thoughts on it

Hi anon! This is for you, @battleslippers and @raindrvq who all wanted more stevepop social media au. I will warn you, I got a little carried away.

Stevepop Social Media Au:

-The TikTok thing wasn’t supposed to be a success, Soda honestly just started it for fun but he gains a following pretty quick. Part of its his pretty face and part of it’s his demeanour- he is magnetic after all

-Most of his videos are either him doing stupid internet challenges and failing miserably or kind of just rambling into the camera like its some sort of video diary

-The first video that went sort of viral was just him trying and failing to twerk. The footage itself is kind of shaky because whoever is filming is laughing so hard.

-Despite how much he loves internet challenges he refuses to try any that involve a lot of waste. To him the idea of wasting a bunch of food or anything really is absurd

-The gang ends up in a lot of his videos, either just in glimpses when he’s walking around filming himself, or in the background when he’s trying challenges or whatever. Like, TikTok is fun for him but everyone else just kind of leaves him to it, so sometimes Ponyboy, Johnny, and Dal will be in the background playing poker or video games, or Darry will come home from work, or you’ll see Two-bit smoking a cigarette and his audience is so intrigued by them because it makes Soda seem so human.

-A lot of his content involves him pranking Darry simply because of how confused Darry gets before he figures out what’s going on

-In the background of almost every video you can hear someone laughing at him or sometimes heckling. It distracts Soda every time and his face visibly lights up when he turns away from the camera and argues back

-His comment section speculates so hard about who the voice is. Some people think its Two-bit or Dallas until someone else points out that they’re visible in the background of some videos and the voice is still present when they're not talking, and thus clearly not coming from either of them. The speculation gets to the point that his whole comment section is just people wondering about who the voice belongs to

-Soda eventually adresses it with one offhand sentence: “oh that’s just Stevie, he doesn’t like TikTok”

-The comments section goes wild. Now they have a name to go with the offscreen voice, but they still don’t have a face.

-It kind of gets to the point where his following is more invested in analysing every instance of hearing Steve and trying to catch a glimpse of him than they are in Soda’s actual content

-Of course, the close analysis leads to people noticing just how…flirty some of Steve and Soda’s banter is and the fanbase is suddenly split. Some people think Soda can’t possibly be gay and the others are highly convinced Soda and Steve are a couple and Soda’s just trying to keep their relationship on the down low

-Of course, the many many nicknames and the way Soda’s eyes light up whenever he looks off camera really don’t help speculation

-…There’s also the video where Ponyboy and Johnny came in when he was filming by himself and Ponyboy started rubbing his eyes and going “holy shit, is that…Soda without Steve? Are my eyes deceiving me?” “Shut up Pony, don’t joke about that, clearly he’s grieving the loss of his other half- since death is the only thing that could separate those codependent idiots for more than five minutes.” “SHUT UP you two I’m trying to film a video” “of what, you sucking ass at dancing?” “GO AWAY!”

-…and then there’s the video where Soda’s doing some sort of workout routine and ends up shirtless and Steve’s voice gets about an octave deeper even when he teases Soda seemingly like normal

-The comments section LOSES it at that one.

-Ponyboy and Johnny make their own TikTok account and they use it solely to make fun of Soda’s (and by extension Steve). Actual dialogue from one of their videos has Pony in a shitty blond wig going “internet people stop saying me and my buddy Steve are together. It’s super normal to make out with your guy best friend, we’re just guys being dudes”. Another has Johnny (wearing a name tag with Steve written on it) watching Ponyboy do jumping jacks and saying “if you’re not ogling your best friend while he works out, what are you doing? Pretending you’re not turned on? Get real”

-Ponyboy and Johnny’s channel is only live for a week before its mysteriously deleted. They’re also both sporting a few bruises when they’re spotted in the background of Soda’s latest video

-Unfortunately, Pony and Johnny’s account caused the speculation to get even worse. No matter what Soda posts, the comments section is just speculation about him and Steve.

-Surprisingly, it’s Steve who gets fed up one day when Soda is doing a TikTok live and getting visibly annoyed at all the comments and speculation. He steps into frame, kisses Soda soundly on the mouth and turns to the camera. “Hey. I’m Steve. I hate TikTok, I’m Soda’s best friend, and as of last week, his boyfriend. Now respectfully, shut the fuck up talking about me.”

-The comment section loses it’s shit but eventually goes back to simply commenting on Soda’s content once it becomes clear Steve isn’t going to make another appearance and Soda isn’t going to talk about it.

-The end :)

#the outsiders #sodapop curtis #steve randle #stevepop #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #two bit mathews #headcanon #dally winston #lovelythoughts

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femfallenangel · 1 year

Text

nothing’s gonna hurt you , baby .

( tate langdon x fem!reader )

warnings ; cursing , wounds & nothing else , just pure fluff where Tate is the most adorable caring bbg ever <3

summary ; after a long day at new school , once you arrive home your father’s patient came a little too early for his session. noticing your injuries due previous school fight , he decides to take care of you well.

“ Mom , dad , I’m home ! “ a soft voice announced , shutting the big , wooden door behind you. No answer. You began searching the place , admiring all of the tiniest details ; some of them must’ve been here since like forever ! It’s been only a week since you moved here , here into this huge Victorian house everyone seems to admire. Some for it’s looks. Some for it’s story.

Your brows formed into a furrow at the sound of creaking floor upstairs. You were sure you’re home alone , yet the noises seemed to increase within each second.

“ Hello ? Who is there ? Mo- “ you were cut off at the feeling of a warm hand resting upon your smaller shoulder. Turning on your heels immediately , you faced a much taller frame of a boy , not much older than you , that’s for sure. His golden waves complemented his pale face so adorably , it made your face soften , chuckle even. “ Are you one of my father’s patients ? He’s not home right now , but I could call him if you’d lik… “

“ What happened to your face ? “ the male stood so firm next to you , a concern taking over his earlier monotonous mimic.

You touched onto your forehead , feeling the dried out blood under your fingertips. Your lower lip all swollen , a cheek starched on the right side. Sharpe exhale filled your nostrils as you gazed down your muddy shoes. “ It’s nothing , just … jerks at my new school. This place sucks , I can’t imagine myself bonding with anyone here really. They’re all full of shit. “ your mutter filling up the growing silence in the entire house.

Tate’s head tilted slightly to the right side as his dark brown irises lighten up in the middle of listening to your speech. Slowly lifting up his hand , he took the strands out of your face behind your ear to have a better look at your wounded , still adorable face.

“ I can take care of it though … “ your smaller tone assured him , eyes now locking onto his.

“ Oh , sit down. What do you usually drink ? Coffee , tea , anything else ? “ his filled with love and care voice asked you as he approached the kitchen , watching you sit down on a chair the closest to him.

“ Tea will do. Thanks. I just don’t really get why you’re doing that … I mean , it’s not that necessary … I’m ( Y / N ) by the way ! “ with a wide smile spreading onto your face , Tate could not refuse himself but to smile right back at you.

“ I know , your father mentioned you on our session. Pleasure to finally meet you , I’m Tate. “ the golden haired male replied as he put the pot on , taking two mugs out of the shelf in front of him.

His sight flew all around the room , searching hard for first aid kit. When Tate’s eyes finally reached the item , he grabbed onto it tight , placing himself right next to you. Analysing your entire , smaller than him frame , a chuckle left his mouth as he opened the kit.

“ What’s so funny ? “ you asked him amused by the sudden wave of joy , following onto his steps and letting out a giggle or two.

His dark eyes pierced right through your body as his smile dropped , tensing up atmosphere high in the air. “ Nothing , nothing … It’s just that you’re … you’re so beautiful. “ he replied to your just as sudden question , shaking his head off as he grabbed a wet towel , pressing it softly against your forehead , causing you to hiss almost silently.

A burning blush painted almost permanently all across your cheeks as Tate complemented your beauty , even if you could not see it yourself , you believed that every sweet word coming right out of his mouth is true , meaningful. Hissing under your nose quietly at the moment the wetness of towel meet your dainty skin made the boy bite onto his lip , trying to caress your skin more gently than before.

As the tried out blood was all gone , his fingers grabbed a couple of band aids , sticking them on the deepest injured places. He did not seem like a guy who’s doing such stuff everyday , yet the care , the precision made you quite impress and might have even awoke a feeling deep down in your stomach.

Your eyes seemed to be taken out of the world for the entire time ; you admired him with your mouth slightly opened , as if you were under some hypnosis. The time he spent to bring your look back to decent felt much shorter than in reality.

Bringing you back to the earth , Tate’s tall frame stood up the counter to fill both of the cups with hot tea , placing one of them right in front of you. He gazed down to meet your alluring sight once again , to see that flustered look on your face and drown in it one more time.

“ Tate , I’m really thankful for this , for … you “ you talked with unease , your joyful eyes looking straight back at his dark ones.

He did not talk back to you. His eyes just ran through you up and down again before finally wrapping his slender arms tight around you , pulling you closer his chest , his racing fast heart,

“ Meet me at the basement , 8 pm sharp. “

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ash-says · 6 months

Note

I think your page speaks volumes about the way you’ve perceived and endured life and I’m sorry you haven’t had the time or opportunity to soak up the good things that are all around you, I hope you develop skills that allow your success to be built off of things that are good and pure and not cheap manipulation tactics and lies

Devil may care: A guide on being unbothered.

Okay, and??

Sweetheart, I really appreciate your unwanted sympathies and illusionary sensitivity directed towards me. In our culture when someone is being sweet, kind and helpful (even if fake) we make sure that we pay them back with something valuable. Here's a small guide curated for you that will help you in being self secure so you won't feel threatened by other people's success and opinions.

1) Have a life:

Nothing screams idle to me more than this. Like you have time to be offended by someone's post and comments which you might just scroll by and ignore?? On top of that going above and beyond to let that person know. Okay, Sushma. Now log off and do the pending coursework.

2) Build genuine confidence:

Ladies, fake it till you make it can only go this far. You have to work on your underlying issues and address them. If you don't you are susceptible to triggering even by a mere stranger. Confident people don't need to go above and beyond to prove other people. They embody it.

3) Self awareness:

It's tiring to explain this. Just Google it at this point. This word is thrown like a football everywhere. You know it. Do the homework.

4) Practice self compassion and boundaries:

Negative feedback is part and parcel of life. Accept it, analyse and if it applies adopt or otherwise ignore. Boundaries are important to understand the difference between constructive criticism and disrespect.

If disrespected don't be afraid to put a bitch in place. Until then shut your mouth and concentrate on your goals.

5) Opinions are subjective:

Everyone has their own life experiences and opinions are formed based on those. Your Roman Empire might be different from your friends but does it mean it's invalid? No. Develop empathy and open-mindedness. Not everyone has the same views. It's okay.

6) Develop a thick skin:

You can't survive in this world if you are triggered by the tiniest of things. You have to be comfortable in being painted both as a hero and as a villain. Don't let others opinion get to your head. Owe to yourself that I will stand in my truth thou glory or disgrace.

7) Reflect a rbf stance:

When someone tries to belittle you, try to put you down, talk shit about you. Your body language should be cold and reserved with a rbf that screams intimidation but all you are going to say is Okay, and??

8) Master Sarcasm:

I have said this before and I will say it again. Revenge is a dish best served cold. Sarcasm is the ice in it. Ladies learn sarcasm. It's the one way ticket to put people in their place in a humorous way.

9) Be classy. Be polite. BE UNTOUCHABLE.

Who do you think will be named as the crazy one? The one who is screaming and belittling someone or the one who is still being polite but discreetly showing the person where they belong. Never resort to screaming and shouting. That's dumb. Second never go out of your way to prove how you are relevant. Take it or leave it mentality.

10) Seek professional help:

Even after all of this you are not able to practice being unbothered. I think a therapist is the best solution for you.

P.S. :Ladies, this is what I mean when I say leverage the fuck out of your connections and opportunities. This is how you turn a negative into a positive.

Plus I am petty enough to not let this disrespect slide but thought it would be a good content idea for my posts, isn't it??

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

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nesaluvstherecoms · 21 days

Text

𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Mentions of male and female Na’vi reproductive cycles, combat training, light injuries, semi-animalistic instincts, pheromone induced arousal, male masturbation, perv Miles?, erotic fantasies (includes: sexual intercourse, breeding, dirty talk), masturbation with inanimate objects, light angst.

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕: 𝐆𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐀𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭

“I’m sorry, what the fuck did you just say to me?” Y/N presses, eyebrows raised at the female scientists as they stand in front of the check up bed in the medical wing, where the Recom is currently sat on. The women squeeze their eyes shut for a moment at the General’s reaction, embarrassment creeping up their necks.

“Ma’am please, let’s keep this professional-“

“Professional? You lost that the second you compared me to a horny animal.” Y/N replies, arms now crossed under her bust.

“That’s not what we said ma’am, please listen to us.” The same woman continues, a faint, frustrated blush on her face as she tries to make the Recom in front of her understand.

“As you and the rest of the Recombinants continue to develop, your bodies are fully waking up. It’s a natural part of the Na’vi reproductive cycle, to go into your heat-

“Oh my god, there you go again with that word. I am NOT going to go into heat. I’m not a fucking animal!”

The scientist woman clenches her jaw, taking a deep breath to ground herself while the other two women, her assistants, exchange worried glances behind her.

It’s been several months, getting closer to a year since the Recoms first boarded on Pandora. The science and health department has been monitoring their wellbeing for quite a long time. Through the most recent blood analyses, slight changes in their behavior, and changes in the reactions of their bodies like sweating more, enhanced senses etc., it is clear to the scientists that they can not avoid what they have been avoiding for this long. The hormone blockers that they doused them with in their amnio tanks, when they were still developing, are wearing off. The Recombinants are getting closer and closer to their reproductive cycles. However, because they were filled with hormone blockers since before coming to life, the department is concerned about the intensity of these cycles. They have not come up with a solution yet, however the Recoms have recently been put under intense supervision. After weeks of analysis and different check ups, the scientists have decided that it’s time to inform them of their own situation.

That’s why they are being called into the medical examination rooms one by one, with male scientists explaining it for the male Recoms and female scientists for the female Recoms. It was supposed to be an easy task, however it turned out differently than what they had expected. As Y/N sits there on the examination bed, arms crossed under her chest and neck deep in denial, the woman in front of her is getting frustrated. If Y/N doesn’t understand what’s happening to her body, then things will get complicated for everyone.

“General L/N, please, for the love of God listen to me.” She speaks up calmly after moments of deep breaths, trying not to run out of patience. Y/N rolls her golden eyes, uncrossing her arms to use them to lean back, long tail flicking next to her nonchalantly.

“We are not saying that you will lose control and turn into an animal in heat. You are misunderstanding. Just like when you were a human, as a Recombinant you also have a reproductive cycle. As I explained it to you before; you were fed certain hormone blockers in your amnio tank that prevented your reproductive cycle from functioning normally. But now these hormone blockers are wearing off, and your body is trying to adapt. The problem is that it’s going from one extreme to another, firstly having no hormones to work with, and now starting to get bombarded with those of a nearly twenty one year old Na’vi, which are very strong hormones. We are concerned that when your cycle gets to ovulation week, your behavior and the reactions of your body will change significantly. Again, not saying that you will lose your mind, don’t get me wrong, just saying that you will undergo changes that are too intense even for yourself. That’s what we mean by heat. It’s not literally heat like an animal’s, it’s just the ovulation part of your cycle, stronger than a human’s but weaker than an animal’s.”

Y/N sits there, listening to this woman with displeasure plastered all over her pretty face. She doesn’t like this conversation. Not one bit. She’s being talked to like a child who’s going through puberty.

“With that being said, what we want from you is to monitor the changes of your own body and behavior because we cannot be there with you 24/7. You should keep a note in mind and tell them to us in your next check up. Alongside that, we would like you to take these pills.” The woman continues, turning her medical swivel stool around and sliding away to grab a prescription bottle from the counter behind her, that’s filled with medical and lab equipment. Y/N raises a brow as she slides the stool back in front of the Recom, bringing the prescription bottle up to her.

“What are they?” She asks, eyeing the orange color of the object.

“They are light hormone blockers. We do not want you and the rest of the Recombinants to experience a very intense heat for your first time. Therefore we are prescribing you these blockers to water down the intensity of your ovulation. And we’re prescribing your male Recombinants blockers to reduce their testosterone levels. This goes for all of you.” The doctor in front of her explains. Y/N watches the bottle for a few seconds, not moving even though the woman is waiting for her to grab it from her hand.

“No, thanks.”

The three scientists in white lab coats turn to look at her with wide eyes, confused. Y/N puts on an unamused expression before continuing.

“I don’t need your hormone blockers. I will not fuck with the balance of my own body by taking them. You all fucked us up by putting these hormone blockers in our amnio tanks in the first place, and now even though you’re “concerned” for the misbalance of our reproductive cycles, you tell us to take them again? What kind of logic is that?” She replies, her significantly larger body already moving to stand up. The woman’s eyes in front of her widen further, panic setting in.

“Please, General L/N, you don’t understand!” She starts saying, but Y/N is already on her feet as her combat boots start heading for the door. Her ears remain folded back in annoyance, long tail flicking behind her to mirror the irritation.

“Without a mate, the intensity of your ovulation will harm you-“

“I’m done with this conversation. I’ll come to your next checkups and I’ll take a note of the changes in me, but I’m not taking those pills.”

And with that, the door slides closed in the doctor’s face behind her, and the Recom is gone. The scientist stands there, prescription bottle in hand, as she stares dumbfounded at the dull surface of the metal and lets out a deep sigh, squeezing her eyes shut. One of her assistants stands up from the medical swivel chair she was sat in, and walks up to her, turning to look at the side of her head.

“Do you want me to try explaining it to her again?”

The woman shakes her head, opening her eyes to turn around, and putting the orange prescription bottle back on the counter where it was before.

“No, it’s fine. She’ll be back for them, eventually.”

“Move yer fucking arse, if we were in combat I would’ve sent you back to God seven times already!”

Miles’ breathing is heavy, saffron eyes focused on the male Recom in front of him as he clutches a dull combat knife. Riley returns the stare, glaring hard enough to burn a hole through wood, as both men circle each other, steps slow and calculated while their tails swish behind them slowly. Miles’ body is covered in a thick layer of sweat, dripping down his partially healed face and falling on the training room floor below. It slides down his bare chest in droplets, between his pecs and down his firm abs. His short black hair sticks to his drenched forehead, poking the skin uncomfortably. A week has passed. A week since that cursed meeting occurred. And here he is, panting and struggling for his life against someone who’s lower in rank than him. This is so fucking embarrassing.

Riley strikes forward, swiftly handling the combat knife to slice Miles’ right ribs, but the other Recom quickly dodges, missing the weapon by a hair strand. He clutches his own knife, preparing to counterattack, and just as he’s about to, Riley’s combat boot collides harshly against the side of his right knee, and Miles soon finds himself on the floor, staring up at the other man in shock.

“Pay attention to your fucking legs! They’re the foundation of your body! Ground them firmly on the floor so you don’t end up arse first on the ground with one bloody kick!”

Miles clenches his jaw, staring up at the Lieutenant. God, he’s fucking unbearable.

Riley scoffs, his long tail flicking behind him in annoyance. He walks a few steps, circling Miles’ form on the floor, his piercing amber eyes narrowing down at him. Miles follows him with his own narrowed pupils, staring up at the Lieutenant’s large form. Even for a Recom, Riley is large. His body looms over the humans, Avatars and some of the other Recombinants. His muscles are hard, firm and bulky, arms covered in sleeve tattoos with massive biceps and large pecs that even Lyle expresses jealousy over sometimes. And not only are his muscles scary to look at, but they’re much harder to fight against. Throughout this entire week’s training, Miles has been able to land three hits total, and Riley is getting impatient. As Miles has come to learn, Jones is very aggressive in his training. Not only physically but verbally as well. He yells and cusses like Miles’ old drill instructors when his predecessor was just a young recruit. And besides tearing him down with his use of profanity (in his British accent which in Miles’ opinion is even worse), he shows no mercy in his attacks as well. Since Miles is a Colonel, Jones did not see the need to hold back on him like he does with the recruits. That’s what happened the first three days anyway. After almost stabbing Quaritch over fifty times those three days, he realized that he does indeed need to take it down a notch, at least until the Colonel becomes better in combat. They switched the real combat knives for training ones, and put on boxing hand wraps. But yet, he’s still brutal, using nearly all of the force in his powerful muscles to hit him, while not wasting a single opportunity to let Quaritch know how useless he is, as he batters and bruises him.

But for Miles, even though Jones’ behavior pisses him off immensely, his training is actually of really high quality. You can tell by his sharp reflexes and the sheer control he has on his body alone, how much expertise and experience he has in combat. His moves are immensely fast, calculated and precise, always hitting their target effectively and dealing great damage in the process. If Miles would’ve fought Sully with this amount of skill, he would’ve killed him easily no doubt. Guess this is the level of an elite special operator.

However, even though Miles can get over Riley’s yelling and belittling in favor of getting quality training, there’s one thing he cannot get over no matter how hard he tries. And that’s the scent that seeps from the other Recom’s striped blue skin. His scent is masculine, a sweet, soft musk with pheromones that attract a lot of attention. To humans and to some of the female Avatars & Recoms, Riley actually smells very enticing. But to the rest of the male Na’vi on base; whether that be Avatar or Recombinant, this scent is not as pleasant. Matter of fact, the more Miles remains in Riley’s presence, the worse the scent gets. Not that it smells bad, but the way it fills his nasal cavity, blocking his airflow, is aggravating him more and more.

Riley’s fragrance is thick in Miles’ feline nose. It’s filled with masculine pheromones that irritate the shit out of him, and he wants it gone. And by the way that Riley is staring back at him, jaw clenched and breaths short, it seems like Miles’ own scent has the same effect on the Recom Lieutenant. Matter of fact a few minutes ago he had walked away mid fight to open the windows of the training room fully, nearly tearing them off their hinges as he let the Pandoran air flow inside, the ventilation not having been enough. Miles was in fact very grateful for that, as it faded greatly the scent in the air. But now as he stands up from the floor and starts circling with Riley again, a few feet away from each other while clutching the dull combat knives, his scent fills his nose yet another time.

Riley is in no better shape. Miles’ own scent is so overpowering, musky, with strong pheromones that reek of testosterone. Not only is he annoyed with the Colonel’s skills in combat, but he has to deal with his fucking smell too. And the worst part is, he shares the living quarters with seven other pheromone-filled male Recombinants, who also reek of testosterone and musk. Just the thought of going home after this training session and being hit with seven times the male essence that he’s inhaling now, makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Although… Scott’s scent isn’t actually that bad-

Miles has lunged forward, quickly swinging his arm backwards into a sharp motion that for sure will let him drag the blade into a thin line across Riley’s face. But Y/N’s Second Lieutenant remains quicker. He immediately steps back, leaning backwards to dodge it effectively, with his fists balled up. As soon as Miles’ arm goes into motion, Riley’s sharp eyes catch sight of his now vulnerable stomach. Powering the muscles of his strong tattooed arm, he sends a short, quick and sharp punch on it, that knocks the air out of Quaritch’s lungs immediately. The other Recom releases a choked gasp, the momentum of the swing he had on his arm breaking. Riley then places the same hand he used to hit him with on the middle of his chest, pushing him away firmly and Miles stumbles back several steps until he catches his balance again. There’s a sharp pain in the very back, bottom of his throat, his gag reflex having been triggered with Jones’ punch to his stomach.

“You’re slow. Extremely slow. You can’t dodge or hit effectively without taking some form of damage yourself. We need to work on your bloody agility.” Riley growls, throwing his training combat knife up slightly so it can make a full 360 degree turn in the air before falling back in his palm, a habit he has picked up over the years. Miles straightens up his posture, staring back at him with his lips pressed in a thin line.

“I’m just tired.” He argues as he clutches his own knife, his tail flicking behind him in annoyance.

“Tired?” Riley frowns back with his voice raising in tone and his eyes pinning Quaritch’s form down. “What’s tiredness got to do with this? You fight when the fucking necessity arises, no matter how tired you are! NOW FIGHT!”

And with that, Riley takes a spacious step forward, his long legs allowing him to reach Miles’ space with only a stride, before he too swings his knife in the same cutting motion. This time, Miles manages to dodge, again by just a hair strand, before he thrusts his own arm forward to try and jab the knife into Riley’s ribs. But Riley immediately blocks it with his elbow, forcing Miles’ hand away, before his other arm comes up to throw a punch in the Colonel’s face. Miles ducks, effectively missing the incoming punch but just as he’s about to throw one of his own, a sharp pain pierces his side. He grunts, looking down to see that Riley has quickly but forcefully jabbed the handle of his training combat knife into his side, surely having left a painful bruise. Riley then quickly shoves Miles back with a surprisingly soft kick to his stomach, creating distance between the two of them and sending the Colonel stumbling back with a grunt.

“As I said: slow.” The Recom Lieutenant comments condescendingly, his amber eyes judgmentally staring down at Quaritch. Miles clenches his jaw, glaring up at him as he presses his palm against the newly forming painful bruise on his side. This is going to be another long and exhausting training session.

There’s a bunch of things that Y/N dislikes about her Na’vi body. Like her tail, flicking around and hitting humans in the face everywhere she goes. Or her neural whip, which sends the most nerve wrecking throbs into her head every time it’s slightly harmed. But over the months, she has come to like and cherish the traits of her new body, even if she still finds them alien. However, Y/N hates every fucking thing about this cursed cycle. One week, one fucking week, and she’s already losing it. Her body feels on fire, the heat so intense that she isn’t able to fill her lungs with air. Her form is sweating profusely, her military tank top uncomfortably tight and damp against her striped cerulean skin. She feels like her body is maintaining a constant layer of heat around her, feeling like steam is emerging from her pores. But at least, luckily for her, she doesn’t feel any… needs… yet. Just this god forsaken heat. She doesn’t even know why. One day she was fine and dandy, and the next she’s sweating like a racehorse. By this point, she has removed her carrier plate, her tactical jacket, her gloves, the gear from her modular shooter’s belt, and has unwrapped the military-grade black adhesive camo tape from her long tail. The exposed skin feels much better under the cool air of the base, but it’s nowhere near enough to suppress the heat.

Her steps are long and hurried as she walks in the direction of the medical wing. The halls are deserted, with people having gone back to their dorms or quarters after the end of the workday. It’s 8PM as Y/N speed walks quickly through the building. The medical examination rooms should be closed for the day but the emergency wing is for sure active. After suffering this awful heat for two days straight, Y/N can’t take it anymore, especially with the amount of gear she has to wear all day, every day. She thought long and hard about having to take the hormone blockers that that doctor scientist prescribed her a week ago, and she came to the conclusion that if they lessen this goddamn heat, then she will have no choice but to take them.

She frowns as she keeps walking through the halls. It’s not even ovulation week, and this heat is already unbearable. A shudder rakes down her spine at the thought of how much worse that week could feel like. Fuck these animalistic Na’vi genes. When she signed that Project Phoenix contract no one had told her predecessor that for one week of every month she would be overcome with the unbearable carnal need to get dicked down. The worst part about it is that she even researched before signing it, and none of those books had anything in them about this “heat” part of the Na’vi reproductive cycle. Matter of fact none of those books had anything in them about any reproductive cycles. Research her ass. What do they even pay these scientists for if they’re gonna write half-ass informative books? And now here she is; breathless and sweating bullets, having to face the absolute fucking embarrassment of telling those humans that she needs her hormone blockers, because her body is preparing to want to be treated like a common brothel whore. Disgusting.

A new wave of scorching heat washes over Y/N. She almost cries out at the frustrating intensity of the temperature that overcomes her body, hotter than anything she has experienced these past two days. Her jaw clenches tightly, teeth pressed hard against each other, holding in the urge to release a cry of frustration. Her RDA standard-issued military tank top dampens even more with the new wave of sweat that soaks into it, feeling uncomfortably hot and sticky against her skin. Her throat closes up briefly, blocking her airflow. She grabs onto her Recom Breather desperately and brings up the mask to take the deepest inhale of carbon dioxide she has ever taken in her life.

“Fuck.” She breathes out in frustration, keeping the mask on her face for a few more seconds before putting it down, and clasping it against her belt again. Her body now feels worse, like there’s an open source of heat burning from inside herself. Her tail swings fast behind her, as if crying out at the discomfort. Immediately she grabs onto the end of her tank top, elegant fingers digging into the fabric before pulling it up and over her head in a quick and desperate motion. As soon as it’s out of her arms, she lets it drop on the hallway floor, closing her eyes at the cool air that hits the now exposed toned stomach, back and cleavage. Fuck that feels a bit better.

Y/N forgets about the fabric she just discarded as she continues walking faster towards the emergency wing, now in only her tactical pants, boots and bra. Her jaw is tense, cropped ears folded back and golden eyes searching angrily for the entrance of the facility. She needs those fucking hormone blockers. Immediately.

。。。

Miles pants like a dog, still catching his breath after that gruesome training, even though Riley left twenty minutes ago. He remains laying down in a starfish position on the training room floor, staring up at the ceiling as he fills his lungs with air. His heartbeat is still fast, the organ pumping blood rapidly through his exhausted body, deoxygenating its cells. His broad chest moves up and down with each breath, filling his lungs fast to get as much CO2 in his blood as needed. Fuck. That was intense. Jones had yet again beat his ass, as he has been doing for the past week. That damn cocky brit bastard. He hadn’t even spared a glance his way as he mumbled a “Tomorrow, sixteen hundred.” before grabbing his military jacket and walking away, leaving Miles breathless and exhausted on the training room floor, with new bruises littering his body.

Miles clenches his abs, lifting his upper body from the floor and sitting up, leaving behind a large sweat print of his back, while his bruised arms come up to wrap around his knees. His tail swishes slowly behind him on the black floor mat. He lowers his head and stretches his long fingers, clenching and unclenching his fists to feel around for any pain in his knuckles, and to see if the boxing wraps are still tight and fitted on his large hands. He had never tried these wraps before. When he had walked into this training room, the day after that meeting on the Holofloor, he was quite impressed at the amount of quality training equipment provided for the Recoms. Since he and his team had switched training in Bridgehead for training in the forest, he did not have a clue about any other facilities provided for them, except for the private gym that his team had. That was the only place in base that they frequented regularly.

He clenches and unclenches his fists again, his sharp eyes trailing over his hands. A deep sigh threatens to come out of his chest as he remembers that the day is not over, matter of fact he has so much more work to do. That report is proving to be a whole other pain in his ass. He remembers a good part of the Manual and Handbook, so he’s not having much trouble going over them, but the fact that he has to rack his brain to find each rule and regulation that he broke is really bothering him. Imagine then having to write whole paragraphs of explanations and reflections for them. He frowns at the thought. That damn woman, reducing him to this as if he’s an elementary school kid who has been punished with writing “I will be good.” one hundred times. At the pace he’s going, this report alone will take him at least two months to complete. He has to act faster. The sooner he is done with these damn punishments, the sooner he can get back on the field. He just needs to do everything according to the Major General’s liking. He has been a military man for long enough, he knows how to get on a General’s good side. She might be pissy right now because of what happened at the Three Brothers, but she will surely pipe down. When that happens, he can easily charm her, like he did with Ardmore. Surely, it will be easy work for him. He knows how to stroke a woman’s tail after all.

His throat bobs, swallowing down a fat glob of dehydrated spit that has pooled in his mouth. That General… She’s quite different from Ardmore. While Ardmore is calm and indifferent, L/N seems cocky, arrogant and clearly full of herself. The way she acted a week ago, dismissing people like they were trash littering her base, walking around like she owns and pays for the place, and condescendingly staring down at him and Lyle like they were just some other savages that stepped in her space. Miles’ lips press into a thin line at the thought. His brows furrow and he glares down at the floor mat below him. He had met plenty of military officers who looked down on him during his career, however this woman was by far the worst. She had no respect for his rank as she spoke to him, treating him like she would treat any other amateur soldier, in front of Ardmore and a two story hall full of people no less. The audacity.

With a grunt of effort, Miles stands up from the floor mat of the training room, hopping on his feet. It’s been a week now since he has started wearing combat boots and full tactical pants again. Because of the amount of time he spent barefoot, the new footwear and fabric on his sheens and calves feels very uncomfortable. It’s tight, harder to move in, and it leads his feet and legs therefore his body to overheat. But he has no choice but to get used to it again.

He walks over to one of the benches from the row placed against the east wall of the training room, where he has set down his personal backpack. Bending down, he grabs his large Recom-sized water bottle and towel, bringing them both up. Another thing he discovered besides the Recom facilities in Bridgehead, were the equipment and gadgets provided for them. (Well except for the ones he already knew about.) Like the water bottle he’s currently holding. The hydration bottles for the Recombinants are large, even for them. That’s so they can have a large amount of water without having to duck into human facilities to refill their bottles. They’re made with stainless steel, they’re triple layered insulated and the most useful thing for Miles is the bottle’s spout which has an open mouth with a built in straw, giving him the option to either chug or sip from it.

He pops open the lock of the water bottle to reveal the spout, before bringing it up to his mouth and putting it between his lips. His striped cheeks hollow as he tilts the bottle up and chugs down the much needed water, finally providing some relief to his dry mouth and throat as he gulps. Miles continuously drinks nearly two thirds of the bottle, before setting it down with a satisfied sigh and locking the cap over the spout. He places it in his backpack before unwrapping the thick white towel in his other hand, and bringing the fabric to his drenched skin so it can soak up the sweat his body has produced for the past six hours. He carefully drags it on his face and head before moving it down to his neck and chest, his tail moving behind him at the soothing motion.

Another thing that bothers Miles about Riley is that he doesn’t let him drink water or take breaks longer than five minutes during those six hours of training. He argues that he wants to strengthen Miles’ durability, because in battle you don’t have time to take a break or quench your thirst (debatable, considering the hydration packs on their backs), but man is it a pain in the ass. Especially after just starting to somewhat recover from his injuries.

After soaking up all of the sweat on his body with the towel, he places it behind his neck, letting the sides hang around it. He zips his backpack shut before throwing it over his right shoulder, the rustle of fabric echoing through the now empty training room. Prior to leaving, he walks over to the windows, taking one last deep breath of fresh air before closing and locking them. He shuts off the lights, plunging the training room in darkness, and walks right out the doors, letting them slide closed behind him.

Miles’ steps echo loudly through the empty halls of the building, even though he’s not walking firmly. His eyelids feel heavy, the exhaustion of the past six hours setting in as he continues walking through the SecOps facility. To get to the Deja Blu dorms, which are almost entirely empty now that his team is gone, he must find his way to the main hall, a large, open corridor that connects most of the departments in this part of Bridgehead. He really wants to just go to his quarters, take a shower and head to bed. He desperately needs sleep. Maybe he should postpone that report, work on it tomorrow…

He suddenly stops in his tracks, the echo of his footsteps dissipating with his halt. Turning to look around, Miles’ sharp eyes widen slightly, as his cropped ears raise up in interest. His sensitive feline nose has picked up something that has caught his attention, immediately clearing all the sleep away from his brain. His long tail swishes behind him curiously, as he tries to figure out what he’s picking up. There’s a very faint scent in the air, something that smells so damn good, piquing his interest strongly. His eyes roam around, trying to process what’s happening. His jaw clenches, and he swallows. What’s going on? Why is he suddenly so hyper focused on a scent in the air?

Not being able to help himself, he sniffs around lightly, taking in focused breaths to try and figure out where it’s coming from. His feet start moving on their own, following the information that is being picked up by the sharp V1R receptors in his nasal cavity. With now faster steps, he starts walking through the empty hallways again, now taking a different route. Continuing to focus on sniffing for the scent, he moves hurriedly, taking multiple turns through the corridors of the building, until he finds himself in the medical wing. The more he walks, the stronger the fragrance in the air gets, filling his airways nicely and making it easier for him to follow. Fuck. It smells so good. It’s so…. enticing…

With a final turn, he stops in his tracks. The intensity of the scent in the air is high, blocking his airflow in the best possible way. He lets out a soft sigh, closing his eyes as he takes a deep inhale. He can tell what it is now. Pheromones. Female pheromones to be more precise. But Recombinant or Avatar, he can’t tell. His mouth starts salivating, pooling and dripping down the sides of his tongue as he swallows it down, opening his eyes again. With his tail swishing behind him, he looks around, trying to figure out where his feet have taken him. Isn’t this the hallway that leads to the emergency wing? What’s going on here? Suddenly his sharp eyes catch something on the floor, a patch of forest green color that doesn’t match the dullness of the hallways of Bridgehead. His head lowers, ears folding back in confusion as he looks down at the floor. A military tank top? Why is there a random piece of clothing on the floor, in the middle of a hallway no less? If there was such a rush to remove someone’s clothing for an emergency, there would be much more noise coming from the emergency wing. But quite the opposite, it’s dead silent, the only sounds in the corridor being those of his now heavier breathing.

His feet are a bit hesitant as he takes a few steps forward, towards the fabric. He bends his massive frame down, reaching out for it. His large hand grasps the piece of clothing before he straightens up again, bringing it up with him. His tail is now fully raised up in interest as he stares at the fabric in his hand. It’s damp, and still warm. Unbeknownst to him, his pupils have dilated, now larger as the concentration of female pheromones in his nose completely fills his entire head. It’s this. This tank top is where the scent is most prominent. He swallows down again, staring down at it for a few more seconds, before slowly raising it up and pressing it against the flat pinkish tip of his feline nose, inhaling.

Immediately, a hot rush of pressurized blood travels down his body, washing down his crotch in an intense wave. He lets out a groan at the sudden pleasurable sensation, forgetting that he’s in the middle of a hallway, as he holds the tank top against his sensitive nose harder. His cock completely pops out of his sheath folds, pressing against the fabric of his boxer briefs and forming a bulge beneath his tactical pants. Miles’ mouth salivates uncontrollably at the mind blowing fragrance that rushes through his entire nasal cavity. His eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow, as he deeply inhales the scent that emits from the forest green fabric clutched between his fingers. It smells so fucking enticing, keeping a hot rush of blood flowing through his dick, making it twitch in his pants. It’s so similar to the one he jerked off to a few days after he had just woken up for the first time. Yes, yes that’s it. It’s that specific scent!

His eyes snap wide open as a sudden wave of wetness seeps into his boxer briefs. With his ears folded back, he panics, thinking that he just creamed his pants, and immediately unbuckles his tactical belt and pulls the zipper of his camo pants down. His thumb hooks under the elastic band of his boxer briefs and pulls it away from him, allowing his eyes to peak down at the hardened thick cock between his legs. The light purplish head of his length is leaking a copious amount of precum into the fabric that it’s confined in, forming a considerable wet patch in the process. Miles lets go of the elastic to slide the same hand underneath his boxer briefs. His large palm wraps around his thick shaft, giving it a tight and pleasurable squeeze. He moans softly as the sensation courses through the genital, the sound echoing through the empty halls. His cock is sensitive, leaking another wave of precum under the touch and he squeezes his eyes shut. The Recom slides his hand out of his boxers, letting the elastic band fall back into place, before he zips up his camo pants but leaves his belt unbuckled. His long fingers clutch onto the fabric in his hand tightly, as a few drops of sweat form on his temple. He brings it up to his face again, taking another deep inhale and letting his eyes roll back at the scent that fills his head once more. His mouth salivates further, cock twitching desperately in his pants.

Noises emerge from the emergency wing, footsteps following shortly after. His head snaps up, amber eyes widening in caution as his heartbeat quickens in his chest. Someone’s coming. He needs to head to his room. Now.

Miles is no stranger to masturbation. Matter of fact, he used it a lot as a way to overcome his insomnia the first few months of waking up as a Recombinant. The rush, the pleasure and the fatigue it gave him when draining his balls empty was everything he needed to fall asleep soundly. But as things in his life started changing rapidly week by week, he stopped. Didn’t even cross his mind once. However, the position he currently finds himself in, threw all of that self control out of the window.

Miles is laying on his back on the bed, completely naked and with his thick thighs spread. His feet are planted on the mattress below him, and his large right palm is wrapped impossibly tight around the fat, veiny shaft between his legs. No lube or spit is needed as thick precum leaks from the slit of his penis, wetting down his cock and providing filthy squelching sounds with each jerk.

“Fuck.” Is the only grunt that manages to come out of his salivating mouth, as he inhales deeply the scent that emits from the fabric pressed tightly against his sensitive feline nose. His room is dark, the only light coming from the large window that faces the monotone landscape of Bridgehead. With eclipse having fallen hours ago, the beautiful night sky is illuminated with the array of stars and constellations that decorate the Alpha Centauri System, casting light in his room and over his form, as he indulges in his filthy, perverted self-pleasure.

A soft moan escapes Miles’ throat as he inhales again. His arm rapidly works to pump his solid hard cock, eyes closed in concentration and brows furrowed in pleasure. The muscles of his abdomen are tense, clenched under the pleasure he’s providing himself with, while his heavy balls jerk upwards with each tug of his dick.

Fuck it smells so damn good. It smells so enticing, inviting him to come over and force a horny bitch underneath him, before stuffing his cock into her hot, ready to be bred cunt. The pheromones that are soaked into the dark green fabric of the tank top have awakened every single breeding instinct within his brain, immediately rushing hot blood into his length to prepare it for impregnation. His head is dizzy in lust, intoxicated by the scent of female essence and the thought of milking his cock with a tight, drenched pussy.

Another light moan leaves the base of his throat at the thought, his deep and raspy voice echoing through the silence of the room and the claps of his hand fisting his cock rapidly. He takes another deep inhale, pressing the tank top harder against his face as if trying to inhale the piece of clothing itself. With his amber eyes squeezed shut, it’s easy for him to fantasize in his head the image of him fucking into a hot, horny female Na’vi. Her blue, striped skin is drenched in sweat, secreting out the same pheromones that are soaked into the fabric against his face. He’s taking her doggy style, large dick wrapped in the hot velvety walls of her cunt as he plows into her from behind like there’s no tomorrow. She moans like a whore as she arches her back for him, her tail raising up in pleasure as he grabs it by the base to use as a handle so he can stuff his cock in deeper. Her plush asscheeks recoil each time his lower abdomen comes down on them with loud claps, echoing like music to his ears.

“Fuck my cunt, please! Stuff it to the brim with your hot cum and breed me!!” The faceless woman below him pleads with a horny moan, moving her ass back to meet his heavy thrusts.

Back to reality, Miles grunts loudly, eyes still squeezed shut to prevent his mind from losing the filthy image in his head. Immediately he pulls his upper body to sit up, turning around impatiently to grab one of his large Recom-sized pillows on his bed. He moves himself on his knees, opening his eyes as his long tail raises behind him in an excited high arch. Maneuvering the pillow in front of him, he makes short work of it as he folds it in half. His large hands bring it closer to himself, until the bulbous, leaking head of his cock touches between the folded sides. He moves his right hand down to grasp it, giving a few tight pumps before sticking his hips forward and sliding it in between the fluffy sides of the pillow. With a horny moan he grabs the pheromone drenched tank top again, putting it in front of him on the mattress. This time he leans forward, his stomach and chest resting over the pillow as he holds himself up on his elbows and knees. Wasting no time, he smashes his face against the tank top on his sheets, nuzzling the clothing with his muzzle before his hips start thrusting, fat cock fucking into the fluffy headrest below him. His eyes squeeze shut again, mind going back to his fantasy. This time he has leaned forward on his elbows above her sweaty, naked frame, still in doggy as his firm stomach and chest press against her toned back. Her soft ass is mushed against his lower abdomen, cushioning his hips nicely as he fucks into her hot, drenched pussy. Instead of the fabric against his face, he imagines that it’s the crook of her neck; the part where her pheromones are more prominent, as it secretes more sweat with the heat that has enveloped her.

“Ohhh yes~” She moans out beneath him, her vice tight cunt gripping onto his fat cock for dear life as he splits it apart. Miles grunts, increasing his pace before his wet tongue darts out to lick at her neck, tasting her sweat off her skin. The saliva that has overfilled his mouth drips down on the fabric against his face, forming a dark wet patch as he licks a long broad stripe on it before taking that part of the cloth into his mouth. Another filthy moan resonates from his throat as the sweat drenched into the tank top falls upon his taste buds, his brows furrowing further in delight. His eyes roll back into his skull, even though they’re squeezed shut in pleasure, as a new wave of precum washes down his length, soaking into the plush mass of the pillow below.

“Ahh~ Miles~” The object of his desire moans beneath him in his erotic fantasy, her elegant fingers clutching onto the soft, messy fabric of his sheets. He bites and sucks on her supple skin with fervor, loving every bit of the sweat that he licks off her and into his hungry mouth.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He purrs against her dewy neck, his breath caressing it lightly as he continues ramming passionately into her from behind. “Ya wanna cum? Is that what yer asking for?”

His voice is raspy, the pronunciation of his words more slurry and rushed, as his head gets lighter. She whimpers underneath him, nails digging into his velvety sheets as her cunt swells and stretches with each drag of his shaft along her hot walls, wonderfully tight around him.

“Yes~ Yes~ Cum with me, please! Dump your load all inside of my womb and breed me!” She screams hungrily, fucking back onto his cock passionately like a bitch in heat, her pussy clamping so impossibly tight around him as her hot arousal drips down his full, heavy balls.

Miles moans loudly, fucking harder and faster into the pillow beneath him with his eyes squeezed shut. His tongue darts out to lick another wet, broad stripe on the cloth mushed against his muzzle, taking in the taste of those delicious female pheromones again. The room is filled with ruffling, heavy breathing and raspy moans as he continues indulging in his self-pleasure. Another grunt leaves his throat, tingles starting to creep up his thick thighs and on his testicles which are continuously slapping against the soft, fluffy pillow he’s using as a fleshlight. By the heaviness in his balls and the strong tightness in his penis, he can tell, this is going to be a big load. Now he starts fucking into the pillow like there’s no tomorrow, his mind simulating the feeling of plowing like an animal into the woman beneath him, pistoning his hips to slam against her plush ass. Since he’s getting closer to his high, the image in his head gets a little blurry, some of it fading. He frowns, trying to focus, to create a clearer one so he can get himself to cum. Swallowing down hard, he concentrates, thinking to himself. What does she look like? His brain works, the image appearing again, h/c hair coming into view beneath him, soaked in the sweet sweat that covers her smooth, striped blue skin. Her beautiful moans echo like music in his ears, the voice sounding oddly familiar.

“Breed me Miles~” She whimpers softly, her thrusts back on his cock still as fast and desperate as before. “Breed me while I cum for you~”

And she follows on her promise. Her hot cunt clamps impossibly tight around his large dick, pulsing around him hard enough to milk the fattest load he can muster from his balls. And that’s all it takes. With an animalistic growl, Miles bites down hard onto the fabric against his face, imagining that it’s the crook of her neck as he sinks his strong teeth into it. His jaw locks on the fabric, before he slams his hips one last time into the pillow and lets go. His thighs flex, urethra throbbing intensively, pulsing hot pleasure coursing down his veiny cock, as a fat, heavy load shoots uncontrollably from the head of his penis into the depth of the pillow. His balls are tight as they empty their reserve, his tail raised straight up in the air, with the hair at the end of it now fluffed out and puffy. He cums for what feels like forever, grunting and imagining that it’s her hot cunt where he’s dumping his load instead of the headrest object beneath him. As he does so a shudder rakes down his spine, the idea of breeding a hot female Recom or Avatar and stuffing her round with his child prickling goosebumps into his bruised skin, the pain mixing sweetly with the pleasure of his mind blowing orgasm. After some moments, his body slowly relaxes, muscles unclenching and letting him fall down softly onto the pillow beneath him, squishing it with his weight while his spent cock remains inside of it. He pants, finally opening his sharp eyes only to find out that his vision is dizzy from the intensity of his high. His own body is now covered in a layer of sweat, cooling down the slowly rising heat of his skin and flesh. With a bit of effort, he swallows down the excess saliva in his mouth, that sweet, delicious taste still present in his tastebuds. His cheek is now mushed against the fabric beneath his face, as his half lidded eyes focus somewhere random within his room.

Fuck. These must be the urges that the science pukes explained to him a week ago. Heat in his body, constant boners, the overwhelming urge to have offsprings, enticed by the scent of the female Recoms and Avatars but irritated by the males’. These all sound like nightmares to him. Imagine having to walk around Bridgehead with a constant boner, which is in the humans’ eye level no less. Luckily, those hormone blockers that he was prescribed seem to be working. Hopefully there won’t be any more side effects.

Miles frowns. Reproductive cycle. Yeah right. Sounds like a whole load of shit to him. These science pukes probably fucked them up in some way that they weren’t supposed to and now they’re blaming it on this “reproductive cycle”, as a way to save their fragile asses. Fuckin’ wimps.

His thoughts are interrupted as the scent that comes from the fabric beneath his face, overtakes his airflow yet again. He closes his eyes, letting out a satisfied hum. It’s so good. So fucking good. How can a Na’vi woman smell so goddamn mind blowing? To the point that it catches his attention in the middle of a hallway and makes him rut into his own pillow desperately? He can only imagine what the real thing smells like. Must be even more than divine.

With a bit of effort, he pushes himself backwards to sit up on his calves. He looks down, before opening the fold of the pillow. Just as he predicted, it was a huge load. It has soaked into the fabric and left a large, wet patch, that glows softly in a blue hue against the darkness of his room. A week ago, the science pukes explained this to him too. Apparently, the more fertile the emission, the more vivid and bright is the glow. It depends on the male’s desire to conceive, and his sperm can glow just like the bioluminescent freckles on his body. Weird, isn’t it?

His cock lays there, spent and softening, having taken enough of the abuse by the cloth. It’s covered in cum, wet and slimy as it rests above the pillow, cooling down. Miles’ jaw clenches as a new thought pops up in his head.

Slowly, he reaches his large hand forward for the tank top on his sheets, his fingers grasping it before bringing it to his crotch. Carefully, he takes his sensitive cock into his other hand and places it on the forest green cloth, wiping it on the fabric and leaving behind patches of the mess of cum from his length. As he does so, a new but softer tingle of pleasure creeps down his genital, making it twitch against his rough hand.

Miles lets out a small sigh of satisfaction as he slowly wraps the tank top around his thick cock. His eyelids close, now more gentle as he throws his head back softly and soon enough starts jerking his dick again, now with the piece of clothing itself. Screw work for tonight. That report can wait.

“And then, he hit me with a “It was part of a strategy.” as he was standing there, in the middle of the Holofloor with his bare toes on display.”

The laughter of both women travels sweetly through the air, under the beautiful orange hues of the sky above them, right before eclipse. It accompanies the distant sounds of the aircrafts as they land for the day on the LZ, and the screeching breaks of the high-speed maglev trains stopping far away in the distance. Y/N and Toddy are sitting on the roof of an unfinished building, sipping from a respective can of “Viperwolf Ale”, with a large leaf on the ground between them that contains roasted sturmbeest skewers, served with hex root and beanpod potato over citrus, grain seasoned with rock salt and prepared exquisitely by Toddy. The dish now remains half eaten as both women tell each other about their week while enjoying the view in front of them. Toddy takes a sip from her can, letting the alcohol flow down her throat smoothly, before a small smile appears on her gorgeous face.

“Man, I wish I had this much of an effect over people as ya have.” She comments in a gentle voice, her beautiful saffron eyes tracing the clouds far away in the sky. Y/N chuckles, turning her head to look at the side of the Avatar’s face.

“It’s nice, up to a certain point. You can get shit done but then you realize that at the end of the day people are never true to you. They just fear you.” She replies, turning her head back again to watch the eclipse, before adding on to her reply with a shrug. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Toddy chuckles, sweetly as always. She then looks down, as if pondering on something, before she turns towards Y/N. Leaning on the heel of her palm behind her, her upper body faces the Recom. Toddy’s eyes slowly trail up Y/N’s form, almost half lidded, tracing every detail on her uniform, before they land on her pretty face. Y/N’s amber eyes stare back at her, her pupils reflecting the beautiful array of colors up in the afternoon sky.

“I ain’t afraid of ya.” Toddy says softly, her melodic voice low and smooth in the Recom’s ears, while her eyes move down to trace the Recom’s soft lips. Y/N’s scent has been filling her airways for hours now. It’s so delicious, soft and enticing, and Toddy holds back the urge to roll her eyes to the back of her head. Her scent was always so good but this time it has tripled. Judging by the beads of sweat on her temple and the way her pheromones leave no room for air in Toddy’s pink feline nose, Y/N’s body must be preparing to start its reproductive cycle. A soft, purplish blush emerges on her beautiful face at the thought, coloring the vivid cerulean skin of her cheeks, dotted by the unique pattern of bioluminescent freckles. Y/N looks back at her with a softened expression, her eyes hooding over briefly at the sight of Toddy’s soft blush before a deep chuckle leaves the bottom of her throat.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to conclude my judgement, Toddy.”

The Avatar breathes slowly as she continues looking over Y/N’s features with half lidded eyes. Before long, her elegant hand comes up to Y/N’s eye level, her soft fingers trail up her jawline, until they reach one of her cropped ears. Toddy’s gorgeous eyes hold a mix of sadness and anger as she softly touches it, stroking the cartilage gently.

“I can’t believe they’ve done did this ta ya. Cut yer long, beautiful Na’vi ears. Reduce them ta this as if they’re handlin’ animals. I wouldn’ even treat ma animals this way, I love ‘em too much.” She says softly, her smooth voice mirroring her mixed emotions as she continues stroking the cropped ear in her soft hand with her thumb. “This is just cruel.”

Y/N’s eyes are glued on Toddy’s gorgeous face, tracing over her beautiful feminine features. Her tail swishes softly behind her, as a foreign feeling starts to bubble in the pit of her stomach.

Toddy’s breathing gets heavier as she realizes that Y/N is letting her touch her like this, without saying anything or pulling away. They’re now even closer than they were a few moments ago, and Toddy can feel Y/N’s soft breath on her face. She swallows down, her plump pink lips coming apart briefly before closing up again. Her eyes slowly move away from Y/N’s ear, to her beautiful face, and then back down to her soft-looking lips as they were before. Toddy’s sharp jaw moves sideways once before coming back to place, as she considers something.

“Y/N…” She whispers softly, her melodic voice smoothly entering the Recom’s ears and prickling goosebumps on her blue skin.

“Will ya…” She hesitates for a moment, letting out a soft breath. “Will ya k-“

Footsteps echo behind them. Both women come apart quickly and turn their heads back, until their eyes land on the friendly male Recom approaching. Henry gives them both a smile as he makes his way towards them, stopping a bit further away from where they are seated.

“General L/N. Scout Williams.” He greets politely, giving each of them a respectful nod. Toddy smiles back at him, giving him a small wave of her hand and Y/N’s ears raise slightly as she nods in return, signaling for him to be at ease.

“General, I have a few documents that General Ardmore wants you to go over before she signs them off for tonight. It seems that her patience is starting to run thin, so it would be appreciated if you were to go over them at this time.”

Y/N nods in understanding, already moving to stand up from her place on the edge of the building’s roof. She gently dusts off her tactical pants, before turning to look down at Toddy with a soft smile.

“I’ll be back in a few.”

Toddy nods in reply, with a small smile of her own. However, Y/N doesn’t miss the faint trace of disappointment in her beautiful eyes as she turns to watch the horizon again. The Recom then turns around and walks away. But this time, she misses how Henry and Toddy exchange a look between them, before he turns around as well and follows behind his General.

“So… Toddy Williams, huh?” Henry comments with a slight smirk, watching as Y/N continues signing one of the documents on the datapad.

“What’re you on about?” The female Recom replies with a raised brow, sharp eyes already tracing over the rows of the next document.

“Nothing.” Henry chuckles in response, his head turning to look away at a random corner of his General’s office. Silence falls between them, the only sounds being the ones of the pen on the screen in Y/N’s hand. However, after some moments, the expression on Henry’s face soon falls, his eyes slowly hooding over as he stares at random decorations on the shelves.

“Can I ask for a favor? As a friend, not as a soldier.”

That catches Y/N off guard. The pen on the screen halts its movement as Y/N stares up from her datapad, towards the Recom sitting in one of the two cushion chairs in front of her desk.

“What?” She asks unsurely, with her cropped ears slightly folding back, wondering if she misheard the low-spirited tone in his smooth voice.

Henry hesitates for a moment, swallowing, wondering if he should continue. After a few seconds, he finally turns to look at Y/N, his handsome face bearing an expression that she is much too familiar with seeing on him. Sadness, pity.

“Be nice to Toddy for me, please. She has had a very hard life.”

Y/N’s jaw clenches, still caught off guard at the sudden change in atmosphere. She remains like that for a few more seconds before lowering her eyes and nodding her head slowly.

“I see. Well, if it puts you at ease, I was not planning on turning on her anytime soon. She’s… a pleasant acquaintance.” She replies as her hand starts moving again, continuing to sign the rest of the pages on the document. “But, if you don’t mind me asking, where exactly is this coming from? You don’t usually do this.”

Henry’s eyes lower again. He remains silent for a few seconds, breathing gently.

“I’ve had the chance to work with Toddy since we landed on Pandora. She has been nothing but kindhearted and gentle to me since day one, guiding and helping me at any chance she got, and I actually thought of recommending her to you as our very own personal scout. A part of our team.” His voice holds emotion in it, melancholic yet happy. But soon, his tone falls, plunging back to the sadness that Y/N is now sure that she didn’t mishear.

“However…”

He hesitates, allowing himself to take a deeper breath. Y/N now lifts her head to look at him again. Her beautiful face soon morphs into concern at the layer of wetness that has coated Henry’s amber irises. He swallows down hard, blinking a few times to clear his eyes before continuing.

“Toddy’s human body is very sick. She has terminal cancer, along with uterine cancer and type two diabetes. The retina of her eyes are badly damaged and she is partially blind. Her body is thin and her immune system is weak, she can move and run but it tires her very quickly and if she doesn’t rest enough she faints and vomits constantly. On top of all of this, you can tell by her human body that she has struggled heavily with depression, you’ll know when you see it. Her family is very dysfunctional, and they have caused her a significant amount of severe trauma, that haunts her every step of every day. She grew up in a farm and knowing how polluted those parts of the Earth are, she has developed these diseases throughout her life. By being poor, she could never get the right treatments, which means that the cancers in her body have developed to the point of no return.”

Y/N clenches her jaw painfully tight, her two rows of teeth clamping hard against each other. The upper canines and lateral incisors of her mouth dig into the inner flesh of her bottom lip, enough to hurt but not to pierce through. Her sharp eyes are frozen in place, pinning the man in front of her down. The grip she has on the electronic pen tightens strongly, the knuckles of her hand turning white.

“What are you saying?” She asks, her tone firm and commanding, yet the expert soldier in front of her doesn’t miss the traces of fear in it. He shakes his head, closing his eyes to prevent the wetness that threatens to form on the waterline of his lower lids from doing so.

“She doesn’t have much to live, Y/N.”

The electronic pen snaps in two in Y/N’s hand with a loud echo. The blunt fingernails of her hand dig into her palm below, forming painful half moons. Her golden eyes threaten to widen in disbelief, as she stares at her Master Gunnery Sergeant with her elegant brows furrowed. Yet something inside of her has already started moving through her chest, eating away at those feelings she let herself form these past weeks. What..? Toddy… is going to die? No, that can’t be. That can’t be true. A harsh, choking tightness forms in the depth of her chest, preventing her lungs from expanding fully.

Toddy…. is dying?

Y/N finally closes her eyes, focusing on grounding her mind. She bottles the emotions running through her chest, letting herself take a long yet imprisoning inhale. You’ve only known the girl briefly, Y/N. You can’t feel for her. She quickly tells herself, shutting out the other voices that have started speaking up in her head.

She swallows thickly, immediately forcing herself to push aside any emotions within her, as she has always done, all her life. She looks down at some random corner of her office, before nodding once in understanding.

“I see… I’ll be sure to treat her accordingly then. Thank you for filling me in on the situation.” Y/N says softly, before turning her attention on the datapad again, to try and distract her mind. Henry doesn’t answer, instead he watches as she goes back to work, fetching a small box from her desk drawer to take out another electronic pen, the last one laying snapped upon the surface of the wood. The male Recom’s eyes trace her movement, sad yet a hint of disappointment hidden within them. Y/N isn’t showing any hints of sadness. She’s avoiding feeling any emotions again, isn’t she?

After a few silent minutes, Y/N hands the datapad back to Henry, the documents reviewed and approved for Ardmore to sign off. The Sergeant takes back the device, a large gloved hand grasping it before putting it away somewhere in the pockets of his carrier plate. He stands up from the chair, giving Y/N a salute of respect. The General nods in return and stands up from her desk as well, watching him with focused eyes as he turns around to take his leave. Henry’s combat boots thud loudly on Y/N’s hardwood floors as he makes his way through the spacious office and to the sliding door, but they stop just as he’s about to cross the entrance. He turns his head, his handsome profile peaking over the right utility strap of his carrier plate, as he opens his mouth to speak again.

“You know… she kind of has a crush on you.”

Y/N’s amber eyes widen at the sudden statement, snapping towards him before blinking her long lashes rapidly, staring at her Sergeant as if he just grew a second head.

“Huh?”

Henry looks back at her over his shoulder, a deep chuckle gently leaving his throat at her reaction.

“Yeah. She really likes you.” He continues with a light smile, his eyes looking at Y/N softly. “Treasure that. Please.”

Y/N swallows thickly, her tongue moving to press against the soft inside of her cheek. She nods, looking down at her desk. A warm, soft feeling starts bubbling in the pit of her stomach, twisting like velvet against her insides, feeling so wonderfully gentle in contrast to the heavy pit that still weights into her from the earlier conversation. She tries to ignore it.

“I see… I’ll uh… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Henry smiles kindly, looking away before nodding and continuing to head out as before. Y/N stands there, fidgeting with the electronic pen in her hand and trying to hide a smile that threatens to show on her velvety lips. Then suddenly, her eyes widen in realization, head snapping towards Henry’s direction just as he steps foot outside of her office.

“Wait, how long have you known this? Were you the one who let her into my office that day?!”

But the Sergeant quickly takes his escape, his joyful laughter resonating through the empty hall outside.

Title explanation:

Gear Adrift - Gear found left lying around or unguarded. It comes from the military saying "Gear adrift, must be a gift!". It means that unguarded gear just became your gear, whether you need it or not. It’s also a warning to Marines to secure their equipment and personal belongings before they get lost or stolen. In this case, the gear adrift refers to Y/N’s discarded military tank top, which ultimately became a “gift” for Miles.

End of chapter notes:

Whose footsteps do y’all think came from the emergency wing before Miles escaped to his room? Take a tiny guess <3. (・ω・)ノ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

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hoe4sports · 6 months

Text

“My heart recognized you before my mind did”

Caroline Graham Hansen x reader

A/N: No triggers. Rewritten 31st of May. You are a playing assistant coach. Basically a player with more knowledge.

The sun was blaring in the Spanish sky which caused your sweat to pour. It was particularly hot because you weee busy placing the gear you had planned to use this session for the attackers. It looked like something close to the world championship of materials. It devastatingly hot as the Spanish sun was going towards record breaking heat. The attackers came out, all of them looking as ready as ever. You had already analysed them which meant that you knew each of their weaknesses. “Fridolina, Salma and Claudia; group up to the left. Caroline, Mariona and Bruna; group up to the right.” You ordered, and the girls split up eager to see what you had planned for today. “We are doing drills, left to right, up towards east, strike three times, across the field and return. 1-2-3, let’s go!” You yelled as the girls got into action. Caroline caused you to take special notice of her. She was taller than you, and you had read about her. You went to talent camp together as teens. You always thought that she was into girls, but she was very private. Even back then! Nonetheless, she was stunning. Her hands were large, and her rarely shown smile was contagious.

“Alright girls, I want you to group up.” You announced after 15 mins of intensive practice. The girls fell to the grass pacing, trying to catch their breath. “Now, this feeling is what we will feel on the pitch during the last 10 minutes. We are gonna push through it. Watch me, and copy it until I call quits.” You ordered as you did a series of cordinating moves as a ran between poles and over blocks. When you finished the round, you pulled my t shirt off your tanned skin as it was once again, recording breakingly hot. Everyone started doing the exercise, and you started looking at Fridolina while making notes of what she needed support on. You turned around and catches Caroline glancing at you. “Caroline? Are there questions? Are you okay?” You said as the tall girl shook her head and started doing the exercise. You shook yournhead, and started taking notes once again.

Later that day, you spotted her staring at you. In the cafeteria, during the pre-match meeting and during the gym session. You decided that you were over it when you and Ingrid was walking to her car, and you catched her stare again. “What’s her deal?” You asked Ingrid, and she shrugged. “I’m not too sure, she isn’t normally this awkward. “ she suggested and you brushed it off as we got into Ingrid’s car.

Over the next months, this weird thing with Caroline kept happening. You would notice her staring, but whenever you talked to her she would get all stuttery. As she was getting weirded, me and the other girls were getting closer. You were also marking my spot as a playing assistant trainer when Jonathan on multiple occasions had me be a stand in during practice. This caused you to develop a close knitted relationship to quite a few of the girls, but Ingrid, Mapi, Alexia and Lucy were of the closest. Lucy would often flirt with me, and you thought it was hilarious. Over the next 6 months, we grew closer. Like sisters, she would tease you. and you would kick her ass in practice.

After a very particularly hard practice, you were clearing the pitch for equipment as the girls had already headed home for the day. You had turned the music on full and you were listening to “Typisk norsk å være god». It was blasting out on full volume and you felt like you were having the time of your life. It was friday, and you were feeling ready for Lucy’s birthday weekend shenanigans.

“Uhm, listen, Y/F/N-“ a female voice begun but was quickly shut down by your shrieks of horror as your heart went from 50 to 180 in the span of 1 second. “GRAHAM, you scared me!” You yelled as the tall brunette was walking awkwardly towards you, almost resembling a baby giraffe. The girl was rubbing her neck while staring into the grass. “I just, ehm, regarding, you know-“ she stuttered. “Oh my, whenever you are ready” I stated as an ironically looked at my sports watch. “Never mind” the brunette stuttered as she was turning her tall frame and walked towards the warderobe. You could see the girls staring from the tunnel, and you knew that they had put her up to this.

You sighted as you felt forced to try to catch up to her, considering your 38 cm height difference. “Caroline, wait up.” You cooed at her as you were shortening the distance by the second. You catched her as she entered the now empty team warderobe. She sat down underneath her cubby with her name and face printed on the wall with her hands rubbing her knees. You could tell that she was nervous, that made you feel flattered. “Let’s try again shall we?” You said as you sat down on the physio bench in the middle of the room, but still in front of her. She still looked down with her serious face. She always has a serious face, that’s her thing. Stone cold, hard working and dedicated. You dangled your feet on the physio bench as you pointed towards her picture on the wall. “You see that girl?” You started, as she shot a quick gaze towards where you were pointing. “I think she is hard working, dedicated, confident and very passionate.” You stated while staring at her picture in awe as a you smiled lovingly. “Now, what seems to be the issue for this hard working girl?” You repeated. “Strugglig with your right to left transitions?” You suggested. “What, no!” She stated, knowing that you knew that her transitions were always perfect.

“I just-listen Y/F/N. I’m not very good with talking to new people. But I was trying to remember where I have seen you before, because I’m confident that I have seen you but I can’t seem to-“ she said as her speech was picking up the pace. “Statoil talentleir” you smiled as you let out a small laugh. “I remember, who could ever forget those a girl with eyes like the sea during the biggest of storms?” You smiled, and she looked down again as she blushed. You could see that she was hiding a grin, and you smiled again looking back on the memory. “It was around 2012, you were 17. I was around 13. You had your stilly little hairband across your forehead and I pulled it. It smacked your forehead and you had a bright purple spot for the whole camp.” You stated as a let out a chuckle.

The thing was, that you were younger than her. She was 1995, and you were 1999. That didn’t stop you though, as you liked my women older. “Are you going to Lucy’s birthday dinner tonight?” You asked to break the silence as you realised that we were running out of time and you had no intention of missing out on a chance to party. “I’m not sure..” Caroline shyly stated, and you stood up. “Well.” You said as a reached your hand out. “I want you to come, Caz” you said as your new nickname for the tall framed girl slipped. She smiled softly “as you please, coach” she chuckled as her smile lit up the room.

#caroline graham hansen #woso imagine #barcelona women #woso x reader #caroline graham hansen imagine #barca femini x reader #barca femeni #caroline graham x reader

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brandogenius · 4 months

Note

neeed more phoebe and ya similar to spiraling fic i love their relationship so bad

(this has been in my drafts for a while + not proofred. was contemplating on posting it or not but have y’all phoebe & younger artist crumbs)

‼️RPF‼️

ONE SHOT - phoebe & younger artist - frustration

word count: 673

“i can sense tension” you stopped strumming your guitar, hands sweaty, fingers callused, frustration and anxiety settled deep in your chest. phoebe was stood at the opened door to the backstage room, staff and crew were flying past phoebe at a million miles per second, busy and in a hurry to get ready for the show tonight.

“the vision.. isn’t visioning- this stupid guitar” you grumbled, roughly setting the guitar down onto the ground by your feet. your notes app was opened on your phone, disregarded to the side of the couch. phoebe walked over, sitting down beside you. “im sure it is-“

“it’s really not.” you cut phoebe off with a heavy sigh as uou ran a hand through your hair in frustration. it wasn’t working and it had you stressed- nothing was working. everything was wrong. lyrics written in the notes app but no cords or pattern seemed to fit the vibe. you gave up

“the struggles of being a musician. we’ve all been there.” phoebe chuckled to herself. picking up the acoustic guitar and propping it into her lap. she busied herself by messing around with chords she heard you play.

“how can you just..pick up from me and create a good melody? why doesn’t it work for me?” you huffed in defeat, slouching back on the couch, eyes scanning phoebe, analysing what she’s doing.

“practice makes perfect. it’s a cheesy saying but it’s true. every musician gets frustrated or burnt out like you are right now. but, that’s what makes a good musician. progression” she stopped strumming, turning to face you with a serious look on her face.

“you can’t force things to happen. it’ll happen naturally. i usually look at stuff for inspiration. go on writing trips, listen to other music. if i find a song that has a good melody, i’ll write down the chord progressions and take inspiration from them” she turned back to the guitar and started to tune it.

“yeah- i get that. sometimes i just feel like.. i’m not a good musician. nothing works right, lyrics are shitty. i look at other songs by i don’t know- muna and i think woah- how can they do that but i’m here like-“

“i’m stopping you right there, kid” phoebe talked over you, sensing where this is going. “i’m not having a repeat of last month. we do not compare ourselves to other musicians and singers. each to their own uniqueness and individuality” she placed the guitar down, turning to face you directly, sitting criss crossed on the couch.

“yeah but-“

“respectfully dude, shut up. you’re an amazing and super talented singer and musician. you put yourself down too much and i don’t like that. that’s not a healthy mindset to have. comparing yourself to other people isn’t good either.”

you looked down at your hands, picking at the nail polish.

“everyone has their own flaws, i do, you do- julien and lucy do too. you let yourself spiral from overthinking about something small to getting yourself worked up and then put yourself in a bad mood which is not good. you can’t be doing this kid, it’s not good for your mental health”

“i don’t really need a lecture from you” you sighed, looking up and staring at the ceiling.

“i’m not gonna lecture you. im only stating the obvious. you’re young, you have so much ahead of you, so much to live for and see. you don’t need to put yourself down. you don’t understand how cool and talented you are. when i first met you i was like ‘damn, that kid’s cool as heck’ and im right!”

you couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head a bit. phoebe grinned.

“see? i made you laugh” she patted your thigh and stood up. “don’t spiral into negative thoughts alright? if you find yourself doing it, just come talk to me. don’t bottle shit up until you get frustrated and take your anger out on the poor guitar, alright kid?”

“yeah- i guess so”

“good”

#pom writes #young artist au #phoebe bridgers au #phoebe bridgers angst #phoebe bridgers blurb #phoebe bridgers headcanons #phoebe bridgers fluff #phoebe bridgers one shot #phoebe bridgers fanfic #phoebe bridgers x reader #boygenius x reader #boygenius fanfic #boygenius au #boygenius one shot #boygenius blurb #boygenius headcanons #boygenius angst #boygenius fluff

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adviceformefromme · 10 months

Note

Sis, please tell me, how do I LISTEN?

It’s not that I can’t HEAR, I can feel it, it’s just that I’m not LISTENING.

How? How do I listen to my Body? How do I listen to GOD? How do I listen to my spirit, to life, to the experiences and lessons that come for me? I keep ending up in the same situations over and over again: broke & unemployed, angry and short tempered, desperate, lonely and self-isolating; overwhelmed with all the negative and all I WANT to be doing that I shut down and turn everything off and close my mind and my heart to everything and everyone.

I lost my brother 4 years ago, the love of my life, my best friend & cheerleader, virtually my dad, as I didn’t grow up with mine. I couldn’t handle it, I’ve never experienced loss like this. I turned it all off and threw my spirit, along with my hopes, dreams, will to live and self worth into a box and down into a Black Sea of grief and heartbreak 💔 Now, I can’t find that box anymore…I can HEAR it screaming to me, but I’m not listening close enough to find it. What do I do?

Hey Sweetie, sorry to hear of your pain! I can relate as I lost my brother suddenly over 7 years ago and we were sooo close. It was pain I had never experienced. As for closing off and shutting down, this was also my coping mechanism. The main thing is, is that everything you write is totally possible to overcome. I'll put some tips below, take what you need and DM me if you need more support xoxox

The broken record, the keep making the same mistake pains. Spend some time analysing these. Where was the window that you could of made a change? For example. If in relationships you loose your temper when a guy doesn't message back. Where is the window in that process for change? Bring light to it. Is it learning to say no to men who show you early on that they are crappy with messaging? Is it not sleeping with them too soon so you can see their true colours? Really observe the cycle. And drill down on where you can see your set back. Once you can see the pattern and the behaviour keeping you stuck. You can move into prevention. If X happens, I will now do X. Keep reminding yourself of this. Keep reminding yourself of your new behaviour.. Daily, even outside of the situation, keep reminding yourself if X happens I will now do X. And this is the PRE step , this is making the change before you end up in the gutter. This is your preventative action. When you feel ready ask God for a test. He WILL deliver.

Stop breaking your own promises. Learn to build trust with yourself. Start small, this is how you build self respect, and move forward. This really affects your whole being. If you say you are going to make your bed start making it. Start small and build some trust inside, this is how you gently start listening to yourself, and responding. Once that trust is there and you become that person to yourself that you can rely on you can move to bigger goals.

Have an outlet to process your emotions. Create space to cry and feel if you are someone who does not have ability to do this day to day. Carve out some you time for reflection. I struggled to cry when I was grieving as a child I was not allowed to show emotion with my abuser, so during my grief my emotions became so clogged up. I would have to carve out time to FEEL. Sometimes it was journalling, but movies allow me to feel so i would sit with a box of tissues sobbing my heart out to any random movie. Do what you need to give yourself space and freedom to process and feel.

Get a therapist if possible, if not lean on youtube, podcasts, books. There are so many amazing books, I recommend Marianne Williams - Return to Love. This is a great book for healing and references to God.

Find a community, you need a support system. Through Church, through new hobbies, through existing friends let them know what you are going through and let them know what you need from them. Maybe you just need your best friend to listen instead of doing xyz, let them know. Part of asking for help is knowing what your needs are. What are your needs for yourself? What do you need right now? What do you need from you ?

Become DEVOTED to your self - care and self - love. This should be your first and foremost priority. Healing from deep wounds of loss requires extra love and care for you, so let this be your main priority.

Cleanse your life of all the pollution. See yourself as the ocean, keep your ocean clean. What music is polluting your ocean? What people are toxic to your waters? What actions are you taking that harming your beautiful seas? Take inventory and start making adjustments. Remember, the ego will be overwhelmed if you go hard on all these changes. Imagine a swinging pendulum. Going too far to one side will only mean swinging to far to the opposite side. With the above, try to find some middle ground when introducing new habits. Be kind to yourself, and keep a check of your inner voice. Are you living in an internal war zone? Imagine yourself as a small child, how would you treat her? Love her? Care for her? Wash her? Feed her?

#levelupjourney #growthmindset #healingthebody #healingtrauma #dealing with grief

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ateezreactionsandscenarios · 1 year

Text

Publicity Stunt

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader

Genre: Fluff

CW: None

Word Count: 3305

Summary: Your comeback wasn’t doing as well as it needed to so your manager comes up with the idea of a dating scandal as a publicity stunt...the only problem being you’re single.

Part of StayTeez Trope’pril

Prompt List Series Masterlist MasterList Buy me a Coffee

You were in the dance practice room again, drilling your routine into your brain over and over again despite already being in the middle of your promotion period. You couldn’t help but feel you were always doing something wrong, your comeback wasn’t doing so great, people weren’t interested and you didn’t know where you were going wrong.

“Y/n, why don’t you take a break for a bit?” Your best friend Seonghwa suggests, a worried look covering his face as he watches you push yourself to pure exhaustion.

“Nope, no time, I need to make everything better.” You argued back, not taking your eyes off your reflection in the mirror.

“Y/n it’s okay, everyone has a comeback that doesn’t work out, it’s part and parcel of the job, come on.” You continue to ignore him, your face focused and over analysing every step. Seonghwa had seen enough. Getting to his feet he turns off the music, bringing your dancing to a jarring halt.

“Hwa what the fuck!?”

“You need to call it a day today, you’ll make yourself sick.” You knew you could carry on for a few more hours but you also knew not to argue with Seonghwa, you’ll only come out of it worse. You begrudgingly give in and accept the water bottle he hands over to you.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard y/n, just get through your promotions and learn from this comeback.” You sat on the small couch next to him, your body now feeling heavy as the exhaustion starts to set in.

“It’s just disheartening. I worked so hard on this and no one seems to give a shit.” You sigh, your head flopping onto his shoulder.

“We all get times like this but we all grow and learn from it, you’ll be okay I promise.”

You’re enjoying the comfort that Seonghwa brings to you. His advice and encouraging words were helping your mental state a little and you knew how lucky you were to have someone like him by your side. Just as you could feel yourself start to doze you were startled by the door to the dance room opening. Your eyes flick up to see your manager standing in the doorway, wide eyed and for some reason uneasy.

“Sorry, I didn’t know your boyfriend was here, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You can’t help but crack a giggle at your manager.

“No it’s fine, he’s just a friend and you’re not interrupting, what’s up?”

“Oh...right. I was just checking in on you and wanted to see if you were almost ready for me to drive you home.”

“Yeah I’m done for today, just give me a few minutes to get my stuff together and I’ll come find you.” You smile. Your manager nods in agreement and leaves you and Seonghwa alone. Shutting the door he pulls out his phone and quickly typing out an email to your CEO with an idea to get you the publicity you needed.

The next morning your manage pulls you into the CEO's office with no word of an explanation. Your anxiety hit the roof, you thought this was it for you, you did that bad they were going to cut you out of the company completely. You were planning out your apology and ways you could do better during short trip it took to get to the office, but once you were there it wasn't what you were expecting.

"Y/n as you know things aren't going to plan but we've come up with an idea that would hopefully get you the publicity and attention you need...that's if you agree to it anyway." Your boss says, leaning forward on his desk, hands clasped together awaiting a response.

"What's the idea?"

"A scandal." Now, you weren't a fan of the word 'scandal' normally when someone was caught up in one of those 9 times out of 10 it ended badly and quite frankly you didn't want your name getting dragged through the mud. The nervousness on your face was evident so he continued to explain.

"We were talking about getting you wrapped up in a dating scandal, all you'll need to do is go on a few public dates and make sure you're caught, the rest will do itself." You weren't opposed to the idea but there was one fatal flaw in their plan...you're single.

"But I don't have a boyfriend to get in a dating scandal to begin with...how will this work?"

"Fake dating. Your manager mentioned how you're very close to Park Seonghwa from Ateez, he even told me how he mistook you both for a couple last night." You nod along, quietly agreeing while you wait for him to continue.

"If your manager thought that, and he sees you everyday, then it'll be easy enough to sway the media and the public into thinking its real. I'm not asking you to do anything drastic, no big love gestures or anything like that but just go on a few 'dates', simply hang out together and you'll be fine."

"I...I'll have to discuss this with him first, I'm okay with it but I need to know he is too before I agree to anything." Your boss nods in understanding.

"That's ok, go make a phone call now, but do explain that this will bring Ateez attention too, I assume they could do with a little publicity seeing as they're on a break right now."

After leaving the office you make a quick phone call to Seonghwa, you were ready to explain everything but then found out he's just had the same conversation at KQ.

"Your manager called mine last night, they came up with the idea together." He chuckled. You both couldn't believe how sneaky they'd been but you had to give it to them, it was pretty impressive.

"I'm okay with it if you are, I need all the attention I can get right now." You sigh.

"Then let's do it, how hard can it be? We just hang out, get a few photos taken and there you go." His optimism made you smile and you were so grateful to have a friend like him who was willing to help you in this way.

"Okay, I'll go tell them...thanks Hwa I owe you."

The next day was the day of your first ‘date’ with Seonghwa and you didn’t know why you were nervous, he’s your best friend so you just had to act like you always do but maybe it was knowing you were both going to be all over dispatch that was setting your anxiety off.

You were in the car with your manager, he’d just parked at the destination of your ‘date’.

“Okay, here’s where I leave you, I’ll drop you a text once I’ve sent an anonymous message to dispatch letting them know where you are that way you’ll get a heads up at least. You got this okay, just be like you usually are.” He smiled warmly at you hoping to settle your nerves a little.

“Do you really think this is a good idea? What if it backfires and people end up hating me?”

“I doubt that would happen, yes there will be a few fans that are upset but that’s going to happen. People love the both of you so why wouldn’t the be happy to see their favourite idols together?” You take a deep breath and nod before you head out of the car.

“I’ll be in work so give me a call if you need a ride home or not.” You nod again in thanks and shut the door walking off to your meeting spot.

To your surprise Seonghwa was already there, playing on his phone while he waits.

“Were you waiting long?” You ask, catching his attention.

“No I’ve only been here 5 minutes.” He smiles. “Shall we?” He offers you his arm to take which you do so but rather stiffly.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just nervous for some reason.”

“You don’t need to be, it’s me, come on let’s grab a milkshake...my treat.” He nudges you with a smile making you smile back, your anxieties melting away slightly.

On your way to get your milkshakes you get the text from your manager telling you the message was sent out and you were surprised by how fast dispatch were to get the story they wanted as not even 10 minutes later Seonghwa was nudging you again.

"I guess they're here, there's one over there." He warns you gesturing lightly with his head to be more discreet. You make it look like your glancing around at the scenery so you could spot the photographer.

"I guess we'll give them what they want." He smiles, intertwining his hand with yours. You look at your hands held tightly together and then up at him to see a warm comforting smile on his face.

You both made sure to be very touchy with each other, holding hands, him throwing his arm around your shoulders or waist when you were stood still, long eye contact and anything else you could think of. Before too long though it seemed you’d both forgotten about being followed by dispatch, you found yourselves not looking around for photographers or worrying about if you were acting “couply” enough, you were just being yourselves and enjoying each others company.

The next morning you were woken by your phone constantly going off, notifications from Twitter and Instagram piling in by the hundreds. You look through your notifications to see what the hell was going on only to find the photos of your ‘date’ plastered all over social media.

“BREAKING: Ateez Seonghwa reportedly dating Y/n.”

“Idol star Y/n seen with Ateez Park Seonghwa on a date.”

“New power couple? Ateez Seonghwa and Y/n spotted together on a date.”

Those were just a few of the headlines you’d seen. You told yourself from the beginning of this plan that you’d never look at the comments out of fear of getting hate, but the curiosity got too much.

“This was such a surprise! They’re so cute together.”

“I don’t know how I feel about this, maybe if it was another girl then okay 😕”

“This has to be fake.”

“My two babies TOGETHER! Excuse me while I go ugly cry.”

“It’s refreshing to see him so genuinely happy, I hope y/n treats him right.”

Just like your manager had said, there were some negatives but you were happy to see a good amount of positives. You two were blowing up, every page you went on it was people talking about you both, Instagram was flooded with the dispatch photos and you even had your friends sending you the same photos asking if it was true and why you didn’t tell them. You ignored the messages for now, you didn’t know how much you were allowed to reveal to close friends and whether or not you should be saying to fellow idols that it’s all a publicity stunt. Your thoughts were cut short when your phone rang.

“Have you seen your socials?” Seonghwa’s beaming voice asked.

“I have, we’re everywhere, dispatch are fast workers I’ll give them that.”

“They are. I had a lot of fun last night, I know it was a fake date but it was fun.” You could feel yourself starting to blush, you felt like you were talking to some guy you’d met on a blind date not your best friend.

“I did too Hwa and thank you for the milkshake.”

“Well there’s more where that came from if you’re happy to go on another fake date with me.” Your heart was hammering in your chest, this feeling was otherworldly to you. It’s not like he was asking you out on a real date but at the same time you couldn’t help but feel flustered.

“I’d like that, when were you thinking?”

“How does Saturday sound?”

“I’ll be there.”

Over the rest of your promotion period you and Seonghwa made it a habit to go on two ‘dates’ a week, but now the only problem was the line between friendly dates and real dates was starting to blur for you. It didn’t help that feelings had started to creep in. Despite the whole relationship being fake you couldn’t help but feel it was real when you were with him and the dispatch photos only added to your delusions.

It was safe to say the plan had worked, you were getting more attention on social media and views on your music, the cheers at the music shows seemed to be louder and you’d even had your first win. The same went for Ateez, with Seonghwa’s name being all over social media they were gaining more attention without needing to do anything.

“Well this has been a great success.” Your manager says taking a seat next to you in the practice room. “Once these last few days are over with you can go back to normal, no more dating scandal, just normal y/n again.”

You could feel your stomach drop. He was right once all this was over you and Seonghwa would go back to how you used to be, but you weren’t ready for that, not yet anyway.

“Yeah, no more being followed with cameras.” You laugh trying to mask how upset you actually were.

You heard a faint knock on the door before Seonghwa’s head popped around the door.

“I'll leave you guys to it.” Your manager smiles before leaving, giving Seonghwa a welcoming pat on the shoulder. Seonghwa’s mood is overly bright in comparison to yours but seeing him smiling at you made you realise the feelings that were truly starting to blossom.

“Is everything okay?” He asks coming over to you.

“Yeah, he was just telling me that now promotions are coming to an end we don’t need to worry about the fake dating thing anymore.” You sigh but keep a smile on your face as best you can. You notice how Seonghwa’s smile drops slightly at the news, maybe he was just as disappointed as you.

“Does it need to stop this very minute?”

“I’m not sure, I think we have until my promotions end.”

“Then how do you feel about going on one more date? Close off the whole press thing.” He asks with a raised eyebrow. You felt your heart stop for a second and a brief flash of hope that you weren’t the only one feeling the way you do. You’d expected him to be glad it was coming to an end, but the disappointment on his face and the proposal of one last date got your hopes up.

“I’d love that.”

“Tomorrow it is then, be ready, it’s go big or go home.”

The next evening Seonghwa picked you up, a small basket in hand and a small flower.

“What’s all this?”

“Thought we could go for a late picnic.” He smiled handing you the small flower. It’s moments like this you forget all the dates were fake and the affection you’re showing to one another is also fake...or it should be.

Walking to the park Seonghwa was a lot more touchy with you, his hand entwined with yours as he walked shoulder to shoulder with you. You took a glance around to find no cameras around yet so you found it out of character for him to be like this when they weren’t around, but you weren’t complaining.

He’d lead you to a park that was filled with flower beds and the lamps dotted around gave off a very romantic atmosphere. He’d really meant it when he said go big or go home because this had been the most romantic date you’d been on thus far. He let go of your hand and walked off a little further, pulling a blanket out from the basket and setting it down on the floor for you to sit on and pulling out the small dishes of food he’d made, laying them out nicely in front of you.

“You really went all out tonight.” You giggle waiting for him to sit with you.

“I said we’d make this a big one.” He hands you a drink and you both talk like you normally do, that was until he caught you shivering.

“Take my jacket.”

“No I can’t you’ll be cold, I’m fine honestly.” The slight chatter of your teeth gave you away and Seonghwa rolled his eyes with a smile as he took of his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, rubbing your arms lightly to help warm you up faster.

You were too distracted by the affection from Seonghwa to hear the very faint click of a camera, but Seonghwa’s ears pricked at the noise. He was a little disheartened that the photographers turned up as quick as they did, he had a plan in mind but he ideally wanted to go through with it before they turned up.

“I have something for you.” He beamed reaching for the basket and your eyes widened with curiosity. He quickly rummaged in the basket for the small gift he kept tucked away at the bottom, pulling out a small pink Lego heart.

“I made this for you this morning, I know it’s not much but I hope you like it.” He says placing it in the palm of your hand. You wanted to cry, it was so simple but coming from him it felt like so much more.

“I love it.” You beam trying to blink back the happy tears that were threatening to fall.

You spent the rest of the picnic talking about how much fun you’ve both had and how nice it’s been to be able to hang out properly even if it was just to get more attention from the public. It was getting late and you knew you both needed to call it a night. Without saying anything you both proceeded to pack everything up and get yourselves ready to go home, but that’s when Seonghwa held your hand stopping you from walking off.

“Since this is the last date do you think we should go out with a bang for them.” He asks nodding in the general direction of a photographer. You raise an eyebrow waiting for him to explain his idea, but no explanation came.

“Yes?”

“Okay, but what’s your plan?” He didn’t answer again. Seonghwa placed the basket down on the floor and pulled you in closer to him, his hand settling on your waist as the other came up to hold your face and pull you into him. He was firm but gentle with how he kissed you and it took your breath away. Your hands gripped the sides of his shirt like you were trying to ground yourself from what was happening. It was everything you wanted and better than you’d ever imagined, but it ended to quickly for your liking.

“I think that should be enough for them.” He smiles glancing over your shoulder. “But it wasn’t for me.” He pulls you in for another kiss and you can feel yourself melting into him. You both smile into the kiss and for that moment it was like you were the only two people to exist. Pulling away again his face drops but he still holds you close.

“Do we really need to end this, does it really need to be only for publicity, can’t we keep this up...maybe make it a real thing?” Your eyes widen again, you can’t tell if you’d really heard it or if it was your post kiss bliss making you hear things.

“What?”

“Can we be together for real and not just for publicity?” You could feel tears brim your eyes again as you nod at him, your smile beaming and his matching yours.

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