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outstandingblue · 1 year

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Promises to Keep

Ten - Breathe, Please

recom!miles quaritch x fem!na'vi oc

It's a good think Mansk has a thing for scientists. They can be pretty useful in certain situations.

cross-posted on ao3 here cw: not being able to breathe, allusions to sex, ooc miles (?) wc: 7.3k (i wasn't kidding when i said i got carried away)

When Jiniraa woke up in the morning, she didn’t feel rested at all. She tossed and turned the entire night, unable to get her mind off the feeling of Miles fingers brushing against her cheek and neck. His touch left a line of fire that was impossible to put out.

It didn’t help that she fell asleep without getting washed off. She felt sluggish and grimy, not a great combination for the morning. Their apartments were basic, more like one-bedroom apartments. There was one main room, which consisted of their bed, a desk and table, a secondary seating area, and a small fridge. An adjoining bathroom was found just a few paces away. Pretty basic compared to the standards of the Recoms, but it was over the top extravagant to the minimalist way of life Jiniraa was adapted to.

Regardless, she learned to enjoy having her own space - she even created her own little routine for the morning. It was quiet, peaceful. She still didn’t like sleeping alone, but it helped knowing there were half a dozen others on the other side of her door. Still, she slept the best when they made camp in the forest, surrounded by the sounds of her home and protected by those around her.

Jiniraa took a quick shower before carefully wrapping her hip with the leaves she’d collected on the most recent expedition. Walking out of her apartment and into the main corridor, Jiniraa learned Spider got a wicked sunburn over the past four days. He refused to use any RDA sunscreen. He’d be bed-bound for the next few days while his body recuperates. Was he regretting that decision now? Absolutely. Was he going to learn from the mistake and accept the sunscreen next time? Absolutely not.

Spider and Jiniraa were slowly earning more privileges around Bridgehead, but they still were escorted to and from every location. Jiniraa didn’t mind, it’s not like she would’ve gone anywhere by herself anyway. She’s been around for almost a month,but people would still stare like they’d never seen a Na’vi before. The allure was still there. It made her uncomfortable, being the center of attention.

Jiniraa looked around the gathering Recoms, doing a headcount. One was missing. Miles. He was never late to a meeting time. If anything, he was the first one waiting in the hallway. Lyle announced they were heading out and Miles still wasn’t there. She looked back at his door as they moved, expecting him to come out at that moment but nothing happened.

Mansk was the closest one to her, trying to pull his shirt tighter on his neck and chest, completely covering his tattoo. Jiniraa didn’t think anything of it as she approached, “hey Mansk, do you know where Miles is?”

Jiniraa watched him swallow before replying slowly, “the Colonel…won’t be at breakfast today.”

Mansk was selective with his words, almost like he was making sure something didn’t slip. Jiniraa didn’t seem to catch on. Mansk was glad he’d slipped his sunglasses on - Jiniraa had a knack for being able to tell when people were lying. His shades were his shield.

“What is he busy or something? He never skips meals.” She laughed to herself, the Colonel never passed up on the opportunity to eat, even if it meant scarfing down food before heading to his meetings with Ardmore or other RDA officials.

Jiniraa tried to think of what could’ve been more important than breakfast. Her mind drifted back to the night prior, the way he ever so gently caressed her face. He believed she was asleep, but she was wide awake the entire time. This wasn’t the first time Miles snuck around a few extra minutes after carrying her from their transport. It became a little ritual for the pair; Miles thought it was his personal secret, but Jiniraa knew full well what was happening. She’d never dare bring it up, afraid he’d stop. It was her secret as well.

Mansk watched as thoughts tumbled around the woman’s head before he turned forward, giving her shoulders a gentle push to catch up with the rest of the unit. He surely wasn’t going to tell her what he’d been through last night.

After they returned from their four-day stint in the forest, Mansk wanted nothing more than a shower, a clean pair of clothes, and some time with his favorite woman in the science department - Dr. Renia Cox. She was one of the only a handful Avatar operators currently in RDA’s ranks and functioned as the on-base doctor for the Recom unit.

Mansk met Renia within his first week on Pandora. Something must have gone haywire when they were growing his new body because his eyes were awfully sensitive to light. The migraines completely incapacitated him - to the point where he’d have to lay face down in bed, under the covers for any semblance of relief. Renia gifted him his precious sunglasses, hoping the dark shades would help while she figured what was going on with his new body.

Renia was Mansk’s Godsend, able to almost completely cure his extreme light sensitivity. They grew closer over the late nights they spent together, running test after test trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with Mansk. At one point, Renia even accused Mansk of making it all up so he’d get to spend time with her. He denied the accusation with a laugh. When Mansk was given a clean bill of health and she signed off on his field clearances, Renia expected him to disappear from her life, but he didn’t. He stuck around, sneaking to her lab and just hanging around her lab as she worked late into the night - not that she minded whatsoever. He worked his way into her routine. It was nice. Oddly domestic in a place so hostile.

Their relationship grew physically intimate; another perk to having an Avatar body was the sex they experienced together. Sex as a human was good, but sex in a Na’vi body? Whole other ballpark. It’s not even fair to compare the two.

So that’s where Mansk was last night, sitting in her lab, head leaning on her shoulder as he fiddled with wet specimen jars. She was finishing up the last of her reports, trying to speed through as quickly as possible so they could have their one on one time. Mansk didn’t mind waiting, he was at peace, just listening to her mutter under her breath as she scanned the reports for errors.

That peace shattered when a slamming noise echoed from down the corridor. They should’ve been the only ones in this sector at this time of night. Everyone else cleared out hours ago, way before Mansk even arrived. Mansk and Renia were on edge, rising from their seats while trying to think of what caused that noise.

“Renia, you stay here,” Mansk’s voice was stern and tight. He no longer was in lover boy mode, he was in military-and-there-is-a-threat mode.

“Hell no, I’m coming with,” Renia scoffed at his statement, grabbing a scalpel from the desk. Mansk rolled his eyes, expecting her to say that. She was still in her Avatar body, so Mansk felt a little better, but she was still pretty weak.

Mansk sighed, “fine, but you stay behind me,” she didn’t acknowledge blankly looking past him, “baby?”

She nodded, gripping her weapon of choice even harder. A scalpel probably wouldn’t do much, but if it made her feel better she could cling to it for all he cared.

At some point in their approach, Mansk pulled his handgun from the thigh holster. Renia didn’t even notice, too busy ducking behind her boyfriend. Her fingers traced over a large indent in the wall - probably from a fist. A fist that made a dent in solid metal like this is a strike that could take her head clean off her shoulders. She pulled on the back of Mansk’s shirt, his attention whipped backwards, sensing the woman’s fear. He looked at the indent, but didn’t say anything, only pressed forward, glancing back more often.

Mansk didn’t know what to expect when he turned the corner. He’d almost expected some sort of rabid animal that somehow managed to work its way through the ventilation system. Did Pandora even have rabies? However, the last thing he expected to see was the Colonel, skin flushed and dripping with sweat as he pounded away at a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

The Colonel must’ve been haphazardly swinging his limbs around as he made his way to the training center. The dent was a purposeful punch though - that definitely wasn’t an accident.

Mansk put the safety on and slipped the gun back into its holster, tentatively approaching his commanding officer. With all his grunting and swinging, Miles hadn’t noticed the pair enter the room, his emotional state created a tunnel vision effect.

Mansk tentatively called out, “Colonel?”

Miles whipped around, teeth bared. He truly didn’t realize anyone was behind him.

Mansk continued, “Colonel, is everything alright?”

The blood was rushing through Miles’ ears and Mansk’s voice sounded a mile away. Miles glanced down at his hands, noticing the blood pooling around his knuckles. He was beating the bag so aggressively he’d broken skin long ago, but that was the last thing on his mind.

His mind was stuck on the woman sleeping in her bed. Was she still whimpering and writhing in unconscious pain? He needed to get rid of these feelings. They were clouding his judgment. He’d been altering mission objectives to make sure she was kept out of harm’s way. When scouting, he was often more focused on her location rather than the path in front of them. When they made camp for the night, he didn’t rest - he was kept up by the sounds of her breathing and the way she shifted in her hammock.

“Colonel?”

Miles wiped the blood on his pants, not caring if the material stained. They were already muddy and disgusting from the past four days.

Mansk did an overview of the Colonel, trying to assess his state. Mansk contemplated asking Renia to grab a sedative. She had the same thought, but it passed quickly. For Mansk, the idea lingered as a last resort.

Renia went to take a step forward, only to be stopped as Mansk grabbed her upper arm in a soft, yet firm, grip. He was afraid the Colonel would lash out if she approached. He knew the strength the Colonel possessed - he could throw her across the room with ease. They had a heated debate, communicating through silent facial expressions, leaving Miles alone with his internal struggle.

His bloodied hands. He couldn’t look away from them. These hands have been bloody before. The human Quaritch’s hands have been bloodied hundreds of times. But these hands? These were hands that caressed the side of Jiniraa’s soft face less than an hour ago. No hands like these should ever be graced with touching someone like her.

She’d already been stained by blood. Her clan was almost wiped out all of those years ago. By him. No. Not him - the man whose memories he possessed. He had no clue how many people she had to help bury, giving their energy back to Eway, in the wake of his - the human Quaritch’s - attack on Hometree and the battle that later ensued. She’d never told him. He didn’t know if he wanted to know the full extent. Hell - she’d been fucking shot at some point. Based on how healed the wound was, she was a kid when it happened. Miles felt sick to his stomach every time he thought about it.

A new voice interrupted Miles’ thoughts, “Colonel Quaritch?”

His head snapped up at the woman’s voice. Mansk was tense, a few paces behind the woman. He was fully prepared to lunge forward and grab her by the waist if Miles tried something. He’d be damned if Renia, the only good thing on this bloody planet, got hurt under his watch.

Renia continued with a soothing voice, “Colonel, what's wrong?”

“I-I…” Miles couldn’t even form a single word, let alone try to string an entire sentence together. Unable to articulate the storm of emotions raging inside of his head, he collapsed to his knees. His eyes continued to stare at his hands.

Mansk had never seen the Colonel act like this, never demonstrating this extent of emotions. He’d gone from a full on rampage to a broken man on the floor in the matter of minutes. Mansk truly believed the best thing would be to leave the Colonel alone. He clearly didn’t want to talk. Or at least, they weren’t the people he wanted to talk to.

Mansk walked beside the woman, leaning into her ear, “c’mon, let’s give him some privacy, yeah?”

Renia didn’t want to leave the Colonel like this. It didn’t sit right in her stomach, but she trusted Mansk. He knew the Colonel better than she ever could. Reluctantly, she followed Mansk as they left the training room. They walked to the lab in silence, fingers brushing against each other, but both too scared to fully commit to the grip in a public setting.

Once inside the safety of Renia’s lab office, Mansk exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face.

Renia was the first to speak, shock spread across her face, “okay, what the hell was that all about?”

Mansk leaned against her desk, watching her gather gauze and alcohol pads. She was making a little medkit for the Colonel - she’d noticed the bloodied knuckles immediately. His heart warmed at the care she felt for others, doing so even without being asked.

Mansk sighed, leaning his elbows against his knees as his gaze fell to the floor, “I don’t know…”

It wasn’t the complete truth. He had an idea of what it could have been about. Mansk was quiet and observant by nature. He’d noticed how Jiniraa and Miles had been acting these past few weeks. Dancing around and stealing glances from each other. Unspoken words said more than any spoken words ever could.

Renia finished gathering her supplies, cleaning up the mess she’d made. Mansk watched her work silently, observing like always. Renia walked back towards the Recom, tilting her head with a small smile when she joined his position, leaning against her desk as well.

“Do you…” Renia began hesitantly, pausing and selecting her next words carefully, “do you think it’s about the girl you’ve told me about?”

Mansk sighed, not saying anything as he stood up and moved between her legs. He dropped his head into her neck, feeling her arms instantly work their way around his shoulders and into his hair, rubbing at the base of his neck.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled directly into her skin. Her touch was soothing - he was sure he’d start purring at any second.

“Hey - that tickles,” she laughed at the sensation. Music to his ears. “Well - from what you’ve been saying, he’d pretty whipped for her.”

Renia had a joking tone, but Mansk knew what she meant. He didn’t respond for a few minutes, just letting himself enjoy her touch a little while longer.

“I think he’s scared,” he mumbled out. Renia didn’t expect Mansk to respond at all. She hummed, trying to figure out what he’d meant.

“Yeah? Big bad Colonel Quaritich is scared of a woman?”

Mansk’s ears dipped down, but she didn’t notice, “yeah…something like that.”

The Colonel wasn’t scared of her. He was scared of losing her. Mansk knew the feeling - it was the same thing he experienced with Renia. He always feared it would be the last time he saw her. The atmosphere was turning too depressing for Mansk’s liking. He pressed a kiss to her pulse, knowing it would tickle just enough without being too enticing.

She giggled, throwing her head back a little. It just created more real estate for Mansk to kiss along, peppering soft touches along her throat. She tried to push him off a little bit. There was no real effort in her movements - they both knew damn well she didn’t want him to stop. His touches began growing in boldness, lust pooling in their abdomens. They both knew where this was going.

“Hey - hey, Mansk, baby, hey, let me just drop this off, yeah?” She was trying to talk through gasps as Mansk became more intentional with the placement of his lips, hands starting to slide under her top and grip her waist. “He needs to bandage those knuckles up so they don’t get infected.”

Mansk paused, pulling back for a few seconds, winking at the woman, “I think he can wait for a few minutes.”

Mansk got too caught up in his own memories. He’d somehow managed to make it all the way to the mess hall, grab his tray, load it up with food, and sit down at the Recom table - all completely on autopilot. Now, he just had to worry about the strain in his pants.

“Hey Mansky! Heard you and a lil’ lady gettin' busy last night!” Lyle elbowed Mansk in the side with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle, a wolf whistle topped it off.

He took a bite of his food, “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Lyle moved to tug at the collar of Mansk’s shirt, exposing the bruising that littered his collarbone, “yeah what’s this then?”

Mansk ignored the overzealous Corporal - he didn’t want to feed into his childish antics, but he also didn’t want to risk exposing what he and the doctor had. It was new and needed to be protected.

It also was a good thing Lyle couldn’t see his back. Scratched to hell and back.

“Oh - you are a fuckin’ liar,” Prager started, pointed an accusatory finger. “Do you forget we share a wall? I barely got any sleep last night! Just sayin’ all I heard was the bed frame slamming against it all night.”

Zdinarsk mumbled, “you’re just mad you aren’t getting any.”

Mansk shrugged his shoulders, looking back down at his meal. It was a good thing he’d already established a quiet personality. It didn’t seem too strange that he didn’t engage further in the conversation. The unit thought he had an expendable fuck buddy, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. Renia meant more to him than that. He was relieved when the topic changed, no longer having to hear them debate about who Mansk was sleeping with.

Jiniraa kept pushing her food around on the plate. She normally didn’t have an appetite for Bridgehead food, but today the look of the food was making her nauseous. Her mind was elsewhere, back to thinking about Miles, still reeling and trying to figure out what was more important than breakfast.

Without fail, every time she heard the loud banding of boots against the ground, she’d look up expecting to see Miles walking through the door. Alas, she was deeply disappointed every time. It was a louder-than-average human walking.

Mansk watched her from across the table, biting the inside of his cheek. It felt wrong to keep what he knew a secret, but he knew he needed to. Under the table, he nudged her bare feet with his boots, causing her to look up at him.

“You good?”

Jiniraa sighed, “...yeah.”

“Hey, at least get something in your stomach,” Mansk pointed down at her food, not looking away until she started eating.

●●●

“I don’t think I can move in this,” Jiniraa pulled at the new material on her body, not liking how it hugged her in weird places.

Lyle barked out a laugh, “tough shit, princess. Your other shit is dirty from being in the field. You only have to suffer for one day.”

He wasn’t wrong - the entire ensemble had been caked in mud, sweat, and grime. It was pretty disgusting - well overdue for a proper cleaning - but that didn’t mean she had to be happy about this. She’d been given Na’vi sized green hiking shorts and a cropped black tank top. Mansk managed to convince Renia to lend the outfit, not that anyone knew that. They just figured Mansk stumbled upon it in a closet. He was always appearing with random shit. Prager was always amazed when he came back with goodies, insisting he was a Bridgehead Santa.

“Well I feel constricted and I look stupid,” Jiniraa huffed back, not bothering to hide her annoyance. Miles had yet to make an appearance, skipping both breakfast and lunch. That left Lyle in charge for the day. It was both a blessing and a curse: Lyle was more relaxed than the Colonel, but he was a thousand times more annoying.

Lyle threw her a flirtatious smile, obnoxiously flexing his arms as they walked towards the gym, “I was gonna say you look hot - ya know, like more human in that.”

She slapped his arm, muttering how she wasn’t human, but smiled regardless and rolled her eyes at his antics. They pair had grown considerably closer over the past month. After Lyle got over his initial resentment of the woman, he started to appreciate the way she’d talk with them. It was refreshing, the way she’d share the forest rather than just belittle them for ignorance. That was what he hated about Dr. Augustine. He also knew their shenanigans pissed the Colonel off to no end - and why would Lyle ever pass on the chance to piss off Miles for fun?

“Stop flexing, you’re going to burst a blood vessel and bleed out internally.”

“I don’t think it works that way. Can’t get rid of me that easily, princess,” his smirk was relentless. Stupid glasses perched on his bald head. “Let’s go, we have a lot of work to get done today. You’re starting to actually make progress. Can’t have you goin’ soft on me.”

Jiniraa unenthusiastically followed Lyle. He wasn’t wrong - she had been making good progress over the past three weeks. You could actually see the definition in her arms beginning to form. Her legs were stronger. She didn’t get winded as quickly, able to keep up with the group rather than slow them down.

She felt good. She didn’t feel as helpless anymore. She was helpless in the clan - a burden, brushed off to the side when she didn’t make progress quick enough for Jake’s standards. Here? They had no other option, they had to make her better. Their lives depended on if she could hold her own.

“Lyle,” she whined, “I’m tired. Can’t we have one rest day?”

Lyle acted as if he seriously contemplated the proposition for a minute. He didn’t. “Nope.”

They walked past the mats on the ground. It seems they wouldn’t be sparring right now. Jiniraa couldn’t help but be thankful for that - to this day, sparring remained her least favorite. They approached the obstacle course - the only thing she truly excelled at and enjoyed. It was a little more mechanical than moving through the forest, but the general idea was the same. For once, she was on an equal playing field with everyone else.

“Hey Lyle, let’s make a bet,” she called out. He turned around, ears perked and eyebrows raised. She knew that would work. “If I’m able to beat you on the obstacle course - can we all have the rest of the day off?”

Lyle smirked, never one to stand down from a challenge, especially one he so easily would dominate at. “Sure, sweet cheeks. You beat me in the o-course and the whole team gets the rest of the day off.”

Lyle gathered everyone around, explaining the deal he’d made with the Na’vi. She couldn’t help the anxiety building in her stomach. She’d been confident before, but it was quickly fading away.

Zdinarsk was elected to be the referee, stepping forward and explaining the rules, “alright - you both have to complete three full rounds through. No pussying out. On the count of three. One. Two…three!”

Both competitors dashed off. Lyle had more raw power and strength than Jiniraa could ever dream of possessing, but where he had strength she had agility and speed. Their strengths and weaknesses played off each other.

At certain points, like the solid wall, Lyle clearly had the upper hand. Hell, he was almost half a foot taller than her, so anything with height was right up his alley. He would take the lead for a couple seconds before Jiniraa’s agility helped her pass over low jumps and glide down the decline balance logs.

Jiniraa started out strong, but by the third lap she was seeing stars. She should’ve listened to Mansk and ate an entire breakfast. Her hands were raw from climbing the rope twice already. Her legs were burning from pushing so hard. Her knees were definitely bruised from slamming them against the solid wall - her nemesis of the obstacle course.

A moment’s glance towards Lyle showed he was only narrowly in the lead as they approached the rope - the final obstacle for the third round. He was pouring buckets of sweat. She probably didn’t look much better herself.

They reached the ropes at the same time, pausing to make eye contact before darting up the rope. Lyle had years of experience under his belt, he moved up the rope with ease. Jiniraa - not so much, but she wasn’t about to give up.

The bell was just out of her reach, but she decided fuck it and tried to throw her shoulders just enough that her fingers would brush the rim of the bell. Bad idea. Not only had she missed the bell entirely, but she lost her grip on the rope. She didn’t even realize she’d let go before plummeting fifty or so feet towards the ground.

Sure, the ground was covered in mats, but they didn’t do anything to break her fall. The impact knocked any air straight out of her lungs, leaving her gasping like a fish out of water.

Lyle watched from the top of the rope, fingers brushing along the bell, “shit fuck shit bitch,” profanities escaped his lips as he descended the rope, a little faster than his body could handle. A little rope burn never killed anyone.

Across the compound, a certain Miles Quaritch was sitting in a meeting, messing with the white gauze wrapped around his knuckles when his datapad started dinging in his pocket. He attempted to ignore it at first, but it was insistent.

The General shot the Colonel a deadly glare for his interruption. They - along with other RDA personnel whose names Miles refused to learn - were discussing Sully’s raids and how he hadn’t been seen in weeks. No shit. The meeting wasn’t going anywhere, so Miles decided to check what was so urgent. Carefully, he slipped the datapad out of his pocket, keeping the screen under the lip of the table.

He sighed as he opened it before his heart dropped to his (empty) stomach. It was the alarm on Jiniraa’s throat comm - her heart rate was pressing into dangerously high territories.

Now, the primary purpose of the heart rate monitor was to make sure she didn’t take off the comm because it held the tracker. The secondary purpose was an afterthought, more medically significant. After that first interrogation, the scientists were worried of some sort of underlying heart condition. Miles didn’t understand the medical jargon completely, but basically her heart rate would spike and her brain would starve because it wasn’t getting enough air. That’s the gist he was able to understand. Hence the reason Miles had an alarm on his datapad, notifying him when her heart rate crossed into those dangerously high territories.

Miles rose from the chair, not caring that the metal scraped loudly against the floor. He didn’t wait for the General to finish her statement before he interrupted, “General, I have to go. It’s my team.”

He turned on his heel, not waiting for her permission before sprinting out of the room and running through the corridors. The echo of his boots acted as a warning system, telling bystanders to get out of his way or he’d trample them without a second thought. He didn’t even notice the amount of people who lined the walls as he ran, long strides carrying him towards the gym. There wasn’t much on his mind.

He couldn’t get the door to slide open fast enough, not even waiting for it to open the entire way before slipping his body through and running towards the unit. They were all circled around, shifting from foot to foot, not really knowing what to do.

“Move,” Miles roughly shoved Lopez to the side, sliding through the newly created gap.

The scene in front of him broke his heart. Jiniraa was lying on the ground with wide teary eyes, attempting to take in short and shallow breaths, but her body wouldn’t allow it. It was in shock.

Lyle was sitting behind her, forcing her to sit up rather than lay flat on her back. Ja, as the medic of the unit, had taken over the situation almost right away. He was trying to get her to take slow and deep breaths, working through the pain. The sensation would pass eventually. His words fell on deaf ears; he didn’t want to yell - that was what he was trained to do for military work, but Jiniraa was basically a civilian. Yelling would probably make the situation worse.

Her eyes were crazed as they looked around, completely unfocused and hazed. She was spiraling. Miles recognized that look. When her eyes met his, the tears began to fall. He squatted down next to her, resting his forearms on his knees. He didn’t know how to be of use in this situation. A shaky hand reached out for him and latched on. The touch made him snap out of the stunned state he’d been in.

“What happened,” he wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, he just needed answers. His voice was quiet, trying to not spook the woman more than she already was, but there was an underlying bite in his tone.

Lyle was brave enough to speak, “O-course, sir.”

“Explain.”

Lyle cut right to the chase, knowing if he tried to give an elaborate explanation the Colonel would be more pissed off than he already was.

“Sir, it was a timed race. She must’ve lost her grip on the rope and she fell and landed on her back, sir.”

Ja filled in the blanks while monitoring her breathing, “wind got knocked right outta her, sir. Diaphragm started spazzing when she made impact.”

Miles knew what that felt like. He’d taken a few tumbles himself back in the day. Getting the wind knocked out of you was a terrifying feeling - you feel like you’re suffocating within your own body.

He sighed, “how long ago?”

Ja checked his watch with a quick glance, “about three minutes ago.”

Ja pressed two fingers to her wrist, trying to get a sense of her rapid pulse. The color was leaving her face as the panting continued. She wasn’t calming down at all. If anything, she was getting less air now than before. Miles’ throat was going dry at the sight.

“Sweetheart, you need to breathe.”

She didn’t react at all - her face remained unchanged, but her fingers continued to grip his. She repositioned her grip, nails now dug into the bandage around his knuckles, definitely breaking open the freshly scabbed skin. He didn’t care. That didn’t matter right now.

Miles brought his free hand to the side of her face, watching as she pressed her cheek into his palm. He swiped his thumb against her tear-stained cheek and she pressed further into his warmth, looking for comfort.

“Sweetheart, Breathe. Please. You need to breathe. Deep breaths. Please.” Miles was begging. No question about it. He may as well be on his hands and knees begging for her to calm down before he breaks. He didn’t care how absolutely pathetic he sounded right now. Her eyes closed as she whimpered. The sounds were starting to affect his own body. He felt that familiar burn in the back of the throat as tears begged to gather in his eyes.

His brain was racing, trying to think of ways to calm her down. Quick glances to Ja and Lyle were useless - they didn’t know what to do either.

Think, Miles, damnit, think.

He looked her body up and down, trying to think of something, anything, that would end this torture. For both of them.

His eyes landed on the bottom of her sternum. That day - that day on the tarmac, she pressed her palm against her sternum to self-soothe.

Without any better options in mind, he unjoined their hands. Her newly freed hand gripped the material of his fatigues. He didn’t care. She could rip a hole in them for all he cared. His own hand from a new home resting on the bottom of her tank. One hand cradled her face while the other rested on her chest.

Her quick breathing made his hand slip under the fabric, his thumb now dangerously close to her breast. She didn’t seem to notice, but he sure as hell did. He could feel her heart raging under his palm. He didn’t know how much longer her body could take of this before it passed out from over-exertion.

He lowered his head towards her, almost letting their foreheads connect as he repeated his plea over and over, “breathe, please. You’re okay. I promise. Just breathe.”

Honestly, Miles didn’t know how long he stayed like that, bent over and forehead almost touching. In reality, her breathing was back to normal in four or so minutes, but it felt like eternity. The only thing that snapped Miles out of his trance was a new figure appearing next to them, taking Ja’s place.

Miles growled under his breath, shielding her body with his torso as he looked up. He was met with a semi-familiar face. She stared back at him.

His ears went flat to his head as he demanded, “who’re you.”

“I’m Doctor Cox…” she trailed off, expecting Miles to fill in the gaps on his own. He narrowed his eyes on her, not recognizing the name right away, “...we’ve met before, Colonel.”

Mansk watched the two interact carefully, not knowing how the Colonel was going to react with a new presence in the mix. Once Jiniraa made contact with the ground, Ja knew she may need more advanced medical care than he could provide as a field medic. Mansk offered to find a doctor, knowing there was only one doctor on the entire compound he trusted - his beloved Renia. He was lucky she was already linked to her Avatar body for the day.

Miles watched her eyes momentarily flick to the bandages around his knuckles. Her and Mansk interrupted his rampage last night. She brought him a little medkit afterwards. He nodded and they silently agreed to keep the intimate details of their meeting between them.

Sensing she gained his trust, Renia began, “Mansk filled me in on the way here. Can I take a look at her?”

Miles looked at Mansk. He was refusing to make eye contact. His shades weren’t over his eyes for once, so it was pretty obvious he was hiding something. Miles didn’t give a shit about that right now. He exhaled, looking down at the woman in his arms. She had just managed to calm her breathing - he didn’t want something to set her off again.

He leaned down, face getting closer as his eyes searched her face for any discomfort, “you okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded, the first time she’d reacted to anything since he got there. Miles let out a sigh of relief, sitting himself back on his heels, watching as she shifted to lean more towards Miles than using Lyle as support.

Renia offered the Na’vi woman a kind smile, pulling her travel kit into her lap. Jiniraa looked at her apprehensively, never meeting another Avatar besides the Recoms.

“Hi, you’re Jiniraa right?” Jiniraa nodded. “I’m Dr. Cox. I work with these guys a lot. I need to check you out, okay? Mansk said you took a pretty nasty fall.”

Jiniraa nodded, sliding herself completely out of Miles’ grip to sit independently. He didn’t like that and kept a hand placed firmly on her thigh, needing to feel the warmth of her skin. He absentmindedly rubbed circles into her skin. The trio on the ground didn’t notice Mansk shooing away the rest of the Recoms, trying to give the doctor some space to work. He also knew Miles wasn’t completely in the right headspace, not even bothering to hide his lingering caresses.

Renia pulled a small metal flashlight, shining it into Jiniraa’s eyes, muttering observations to herself, “good pupil response. Jiniraa, can you grip my hand and squeeze as hard as you can?”

Miles almost snorted at that test. His leg probably would be bruised from how she’d been gripping it a few minutes prior. He managed to keep quiet, letting the doc continue her exam in silence.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like she has a concussion, which is good. I do want to listen to her breathing though. May I?”

Jiniraa nodded. She was used to physical examinations like this - the scientists that lived among the Na’vi completed yearly physicals on everyone. Even so, that didn’t change the way she flinched when the cold stethoscope pressed against her skin.

“Sorry, sorry, I know it’s cold,” Renia muttered an apology before speaking louder, “alright. Big breath in. Big breath out. Good. Now, just breathe like normal.”

Miles watched the scene unfolding with unrelenting intensity, taking note of every minute facial expression the doc made. He watched her brows pull together in concern for a moment before relaxing.

“What,” he demanded.

Renia shook her head, “it’s nothing. Heart just sounded weird there for a second. She probably just has a little murmur or irregular rhythm,” before Miles was able to throw his questions at her she continued, “heart murmurs usually aren’t life threatening. I have one in my human body. They’re just uncommon throughout the Omaticaya people though. That’s where she’s from, right?”

Miles didn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on Jiniraa’s faltering form. She looked drained, like she could pass out and fall asleep at any moment. Renia glanced between the two, a small smile ghosting her face.

“Well, it looks like she should be fine. You did a pretty good job calming her down, Colonel. If anything else happens, especially within the next day or two - you should page me right away. I’m on call 24/7, so don’t hesitate if something seems off.”

Miles nodded, not paying attention to the doctor as she gathered her belongings, neatly packing everything in her bag. She stood, turning to see Mansk already watching her. She returned his look of admiration. He wasn’t trying to hide his affections either. She walked past him, nudging him to follow.

When they reached the entrance of the training center, a little alcove in front of the door, Renia paused. It was large enough to keep them out of anyone’s direct eyeline.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that’s her?” She fiddled with her badge, clipping it back to the waistband of her shorts.

Mansk signed, rubbing a hand down his face. A motion she’d seen him do a hundred times. An indicator of his exhaustion level, “yeah, that’s her.”

“I don’t think you’re right - ya know, with what you said last night.”

Mansk smirked down at her, “I said a lot of things last night,” he met her serious gaze and reset himself, tilting his head, “what do you mean?”

“I don’t think he likes her, like you were saying. I think he loves her.” Mank hummed in response, watching Renia as she watched Jiniraa and Miles. “It’s sweet, ya know.”

Mansk nodded and yawned, rubbing his eyes this time. That meant he was ready to completely pass out. Renia laughed at him, laying a playful hand to his chest, “you need some real sleep tonight. We can’t be up that late again.”

Mansk opened his eyes, humming, “yeah, we’ll see who’s the one begging for more tonight, baby.”

Renia leaned up, pressing an innocent kiss to the corner of his mouth before nipping at his pulse on her way down. She knew how to make him tick as well, “I think we both know who will be begging for more.”

Before Mansk was able to protest her blatant teasing, she was already turning with a wink and exiting the training center. He groaned, watching her purposely swing her hips just a little more than necessary.

●●●

Miles decided to call off the rest of training for the day. They’d been going for over three weeks straight without a single break. One day off wouldn’t kill them. He also needed to get Jinraa some proper rest. So here they were leisurely walking back to the housing distinct in an awkward silence. Jinraa hadn’t said much since the doctor - who so clearly had Mansk wrapped around her finger - left, only responding with one word answers when spoken to directly.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours, sweetheart?” Miles nudged her shoulder, throwing her off balance for a quick moment. She shrugged and Miles clicked his tongue, not accepting that answer.

“I’m sorry,” there was a little crack in her voice. Miles had to take a deep breath, he was still learning how to deal with emotional people.

“For what?”

She only shrugged again, not really knowing what she was apologizing for. It just felt necessary.

They fell back into an uncomfortable silence. Neither realized it, but their steps lagged as they drew closer to the Recom apartments. They were trying to savor the time together, regardless if the silence didn’t feel right.

When they inevitably reached their doorways, Miles looked down at Jiniraa, fingers tracing a stripe on her waist as he asked once more what was bothering her.

“I want to go home,” she managed to squeeze out. Miles pressed his lips together, forcing himself to pull his gaze away from her when she looked up with those big teary eyes.

“I know you do,” he paused, contemplating if he would say it, “I…I’m sorry.”

She turned and approached her door, moving away from his touch. His hand instinctively followed her body. It stung - how she didn’t acknowledge what he said. Her hand hovered over the keypad for a moment before dropping back to her side. Her back remained towards him as she spoke.

“Miles?”

“Yeah?”

“I…” she trailed off, whispering, “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

His body acted on instinct, eliminating the space between them in two huge strides before wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his chest to her back as he buried his head into the crook of her neck. The thing he’d wanted to do for weeks now.

She shifted in his hold, spinning around so they faced each other. He moved his greedy palms under her hair, trying to feel as much of her skin as possible. Her own hands were pressed against his chest. She could feel the heat radiating from his chest, rising and falling at a quick pace. Their breaths intertwined. Glazed eyes looking into the other.

Miles reached down without breaking the intense eye contact and gathered into his arms. He couldn’t count how many times he’s done this by now - dozens, probably. But none of those times mattered. None of them were as intimate and sensual as this exact moment.

Two hands gripped on the backs of her thighs. Bare from the new shorts. He contemplated looking down for a moment, but he didn’t dare peel his gaze away from her face. He wouldn’t look away, too busy memorizing what it looked like in the light.

“Miles…”

Next: Eleven - We Can't

��●●

so i may have gotten a little carried away with this part... also accidentally quoted mo bamba and had a flashback to hs (scary times)

sorry for the cliff hanger this was getting way too long, but i didn't want to break up what i'd written so far. this isn't going where some of y'all think it's going - we'll get there in due time. trust the process ;)

taglist - let me know if you'd like to be added

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

@oceandeepthirst2

@bolggerist

@mxddymay

@luciddasher

@ttreader

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asmodeus-fallen-principality · 8 months

Text

((Information about Asmodeus!))

Name: Asmodeus

Nicknames/Aliases: A.S. Morris. Samael calls him “Mo”, which is fine, or “Momo”, which he hates, it’s so undignified-

Age/Date of Birth/Place of Birth: Older than time/Before time began/Heaven

Species: Demon/Fallen Angel

Gender/Pronouns: Technically agender, fine with corporation being seen as “male”, he/him

Sexuality: Technically asexual, sex-positive, pan…something (he’s. Experimented. With various humans of various genders.) (But, really, they were all stand-ins for a certain someone.)

Appearance: Asmodeus looks much like Aziraphale does, except with straight, white, combed-back hair rather than blond curls. His eyes are black and look human, but he always wears gloves to cover up patches of white snakeskin on the back of his hands and up his arms. Has quite heavy under-eye eyeliner tattooed on (it came with his corporation, he can’t get rid of it). Wouldn’t be caught dead in anything other than black. Blatantly refuses to wear anything more modern than 19th century attire (think Laszlo Cravensworth, but with zero rhinestones). All the emo kids in London see him as an icon.

Personality/History: A fussy demon. Rather quiet, gothic, and always looks sad and distant, though he’d tell you “I can’t help how my face looks”. Basically, Aziraphale with clinical depression instead of clinical anxiety. Eternally tired. Relieved to be anywhere but Hell. Owns an antique museum/restoration workshop, incredibly minimalist and sparse, with rather clinical glass displays for the most delicate pieces. Intimidates said antiques into staying in one piece with an incredibly cold demeanor. Secretly sends donations to keep all the second-hand bookstores running. Files reports so meticulously and perfectly that Hell is suspicious about them (most reports are scribbled on the back of a bit of cardboard). Looks like he desperately needs a cup of tea, or a hug, at all times. He didn’t mean to Fall. He just… stumbled down the wrong staircase.

His first assignment from Hell was to tempt the first humans into sin, but he didn’t want to damn them like he had been damned, so he curled up in the first tree he found and went to sleep. Eve befriended him, and asked if the apples were his. He said no, and there was no sign…well, he took credit for it in his report, but it was an unfortunate situation. Those humans didn’t deserve to be kicked out, surely. Unless that was part of the plan all along…?

Anyway, that poor angel (the starmaker he’d once admired so!) was very upset by it; and it wasn’t very demonic of Asmodeus to comfort him, but you try looking at Samael’s sad little face and ignoring it. Still, he’d best leave it at that. It wouldn't do for a demon like him to get into the habit of hanging around an angel.

Asmodeus proceeded to get into the habit of hanging around an angel. Well, it wasn’t his fault that Samael kept appearing, and Asmodeus did try to warn him that it would get him into trouble. But you try telling such a sweet, darling creature to go away; it didn’t bear thinking about. Maybe things would be alright as long as nobody found out. It’s not as if his one-time-crush was going to turn into him falling deeply in love over the millennia or anything- oh, fuck. Excerpt from my Bad Proverbs master document, originating from April 2022! I'm very excited to finally do something with my Reverse Omens AU!

#ooc #character profile

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Note

Could i request something with reader and Eddie, she knows about what went down in the upside down and Eddie has pretty much coped with everything but they decided to try handcuffs in the bed and all of the sudden Eddie freaks and he feels he’s tracked back to the upside down with the bats wrapped around his wrist

A/N: You made me feel things! Lol. To be honest, I actually kind of like tapping into what PTSD would be like for Eddie. Just because I have it myself so to imagine what he would be going through after his ordeal...it strikes a cord <3.

Allow me to take this opportunity to remind everyone who suffers with a mental illness that you are loved, you matter, and you are definitely not alone!

Warnings: The minimalist amount of smut. Like you gotta squint to find it. This is mostly just Eddie being triggered from the experience so LOTS of feels.

Word count: 1063

“Baby, I don’t know about this.”

You and Eddie were lying in bed, half naked, making out after a particularly romantic evening. He took you to Enzo’s for dinner and then down to the cinema to see a movie. There was a particular scene that made you jump but Eddie just laughed as he wrapped his arm tighter around your shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I got you. You’re safe with me.”

“Come on, Princess. It will be fine. I’ve been doing good especially now that trial and everything is over. No spooky Vecna style shenanigans—”

“But isn’t this pushing it a bit? I mean, I know I wasn’t there but…”, you reach for his wrist as you thumb grazes one of his many lighter scars.

“You’re right! You weren’t there!”, he snaps. His eyes blink away the anger as they soften. “Let’s just try this, baby please?” Eddie’s tone is calmer as he leans over to kiss your cheek. “I trust you.”

You relent, taking the handcuffs from his hands. Moving slowly, you click them around his wrists, pausing to allow for him to back out if he decided to.

“Is that too tight?”

The chains rattle together as he lifts his finger to push your hair behind your ear. “No, Sweetheart. They are perfect like you.”

You playfully roll your eyes as he flashes you a big toothy grin. He watches you as you maneuver around the mattress, attaching the other ends of the cuffs to the headboard. Eddie’s arms were now completely immobile as they hang above his head.

Your legs straddle his waist making you moan as you felt his cock through his boxers press against your panty covered core. You lean down placing you lips on his. When you pull away his mouth immediately chases yours.

“Na ah, baby. Remember, you wanted this.” Eddie sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as you reprimand him.

His eyes squeeze shut as you trail tiny kisses down his neck to the tattoos on his chest. The sound of a squeak causes his eyes to open. Eddie looks around noticing the room as gotten darker. He focuses in on your face trying to come back to reality.

No, no, no. I’m not there. I’m in Hawkins in my uncle’s trailer about to make love to my beautiful girlfriend. I’m ok.

“Eddie? Are you still with me?”

He chuckles and flashes you what he hopes is a convincing smile. “Yeah, Princess. I’m fine. Your lips feel amazing.”

One of your hands slides over the scar on his right side as your tongue glides down his stomach.

Eddie’s eyes suddenly dart out the window as the red storm clouds roll in. They barely cover the multiple squeaks of the bats that are headed for his trailer.

You feel his tummy underneath your mouth rapidly move up and down. “Eddie?”

“No, no, no. I’m not there. I’m not there.”, he started repeating himself over and over under his breath. “I’m at home with my girlfriend. I’m not there.”

You froze in helplessness. You didn’t know what to do or how to help him.

“Baby?”, you climbed off of him, reaching out to touch his face.

Eddie’s eyes flew open as he started screaming. His legs kicked against the bed as he pulled at the restraints. For him, he was back in that dark place being attacked by those things. He could feel their teeth digging into his skin and their long tails holding him down.

You moved as quick as you could, unlocking the cuffs from his wrists. The moment he was free, he flipped off the bed and grabbed the knife on his dresser, pressing his back against the wall.

“Eddie! You’re safe! You’re safe, baby. It’s me. I’m here. I’m not going to let anyone or anything hurt you.”

His body gradually sunk to the floor, crossing his arms over his legs. You lowered yourself to his level, watching his lips move as he muttered things under his breath.

Steadily crawling forward, you reach towards his shaking hands to grab the knife.

“Everything’s okay, Eddie. You’re safe with me.” You pried the weapon from his grasp and tossed it under the bed. A couple tears slide down your cheeks as you turn his head, trying to get him to look at you. “Come back to me, baby. Please. Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

You laugh at your feeble attempt at quoting the Lord of the Rings, hoping it would spark some recognition. You carefully lift his arms as you climb into his lap, placing them back down and around you. Leaning your back against his chest, you place a tender kiss on his cheek.

You sit there with him in silence, feeling his chest rise and fall against you. After a while, his fingers start to twitch as they intertwine with your own. You don’t move, afraid of startling him.

His hair brushes against your skin as his head falls into the nook between your shoulder and neck. Eddie’s chest begins to tremble as he breaks.

“Baby,” you twist your body so you can hold him to you as he cries.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“You have no reason to be sorry.” You tilt his head back so you can wipe the tears from his eyes. “Are you okay? I thought I lost you again.”

He nods as his he glances towards the bed. You abruptly turn his face back to you. “Don’t look over there, ok? I’m going to get everything ready so we can lay down and crash?”

You take note of how exhausted he is and how hard it is for him to even move his head to respond to you. “Do you want to take a shower?”

“Will…will you stand with me?”

“Of course. Give me a second, ok?”

He closes his eyes as he places his head back against the wall. As quietly as possible, you unhook the cuffs from his bed posts and shove them in your bag. This is the first time they have ever triggered him but you take them just to be safe.

“Alright, baby. I’ve got you.” As soon as you pull him to his feet, he pulls you in to a hug. Eddie’s hand presses you into his chest as he kisses the top of your head.

“I love you, Princess.”

#eddie munson #eddie asks #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction

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whitecreekvalley-if · 4 months

Note

Do the ro's have scars or tattoos? (;

They all have a variety of scars, some major, some minor. Mace has the most small ones because he's a clutz and works physical jobs. The worst one is probably a straight cut over the left side of his ribs when he got kicked by a horse and fell into an unfortunately placed heap of debris.

Alice has the second most because she keeps breaking glasses at work and doesn't take precautions when cleaning up. And the physical farm job too. She doesn't have any visible big ones though, but she scraped her knee pretty bad one night walking home drunk, and the skin still looks funky. Her fingertips get the worst of it though.

Judge has a few, but they're bigger ones. Got one on his thigh where someone misfired a gun and it scraped him pretty bad. There was this time he fell down the side of a cliff and landed on a sharp rock, and the evidence is a u-formed gouge on his shoulder blade. Also got a bit of his eyebrow missing from being projectile hit in the face with a vase. There's more but those you can ask about in the game hehe.

Sadie has no visible scars, unless you count a little nick on the inside of her right ring finger where she somehow managed to wound herself while playing pool. Otherwise she's pretty good at keeping her skin intact, that lucky woman.

On to the tattoos! Mace has none. He wants one but he's a wimp.

Alice has some, like a peppering of different realistic flowers on her right forearm (was gonna be a sleeve but meh) and a huge memoriam tattoo for her dad over her right upper arm. It's a portrait of him and his favorite horse against a sunset, with his birth year over and death year under. She's planning on having more though.

Judge has the surname of the guy who shot him by the scar on his thigh (a very crude and wobbly "mooney", zero capitalization), and it's kinda funny. He doesn't really get the appeal of tattoos anyway so no more than that for him.

Sadie got a few minimalistic ones. There's the silhouette of two birds flying on her right wrist, a tattoo she shares with her mother. Then a little minimalist rose on her ankle, and a laurel leaf behind her right ear. She has an entire Pinterest board with ideas for more.

#wcv answered #I'm writing this exhausted I hope it makes sense lol #ch: mace #ch: alice #ch: judge #ch: sadie

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srorgana1 · 1 year

Text

Into the Reverb (Kylo Ren/Reader)

Chapter Fourteen

Sneaking out of D’Kar studios was easier than expected. No one noticed either you or Kylo, positively wreaked from your previous activities rushing out the door to the parking lot. You stop suddenly, almost pulling his shoulder out of it’s socket. He grunts at the feeling but you barely hear him. Just behind Kylo is a brand new Ferrai 296 gtb gleaming in the waning sunlight.

You are pulled from your oogling by a low chuckle and a tug on your arm. “C’mon” he croons with a smirk. He opens the door for you and watches you slip into the passenger seat. You giggle to yourself at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Kylo flopped himself into his seat, adjusting himself in his jeans as he started the engine. You smile to yourself, he’s just as affected as you are. You shift in your seat, grimacing at the feeling of your soaked panties. The last thing you want to do is ruin the expensive upholstery.

You are pulled from your thoughts as his hand lands on your thigh, his thumb rubbing softly against the seam of your jeans. Affection and lust swirl in your chest as you smile fondly at him. Your heart fluttered as he returned your smile.

The drive was silent except for the music coming from the stereo. His hand never left your thigh. Your eyes roam him unchecked. His tattoos are darker themed, all done expertly in black and gray. The geometric design decorating his neck always drew you in.

You wonder how far it traveled or if it was connected to another piece. His right arm on display as he drove was fully covered; an intricate mix of designs that you didn’t know the exact meaning of. You look down at the hand on your thigh. The tattoo of a rose encased the whole top part of his hand, with the words SOUL inked onto his digits. You wanted to ask him the meaning of every single one. “Hey” he says, bringing you back to reality.

“Hey you” you say, rubbing your fingers over his hand, tracing the lines. His hand gripped your leg tighter. “What does this one mean?” you say, tracing the S on his pointer finger. “That I’m my own person, no one else's” he says as he stares out the windshield.

You hum at his response as you trace the rest of the letters and the spade on his thumb. He turned left and suddenly removed his hand from leg, hitting a hidden button by the center console. “We’re here” he said, pulling into a building’s parking garage.

You can feel your anxiety starting to build as he parked the car. Was this a good idea? Was it too soon? You literally had your first two dates and first argument in the last seventy-two hours.

You could feel your breathing start to increase as your mind began to swirl. Your door opened suddenly, making you jump. His hands enveloped your face as he looked at you. “Stop overthinking it, it's just us” he said, his thumps rubbing the apples of your cheeks as he kissed your forehead. You relaxed in his hold.

"We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with” he said, as he stepped back, offering you his hand. You could feel in your heart and soul this was a pivotal moment. This decision will change the course of this relationship, for better or worse. You take a deep breath, looking into those amber eyes and take his hand.

You don’t let go of his hand as he leads you into a very minimalistic lobby and into an elevator. He lets go of your hand then wraps his arms around you, pulling you back into his chest. You revel in the feeling of his muscles around you. He says nothing, just nuzzles his nose in your messy hair.

The elevator rings, opening up to his floor. He keeps one arm wrapped around you as he leads you to his door. His building is infinitely nicer than your building. He scans his Apple watch to the lock on his door and it clicks open. “Fancy” you mumble dryly as he leads you inside.

You hear him chuckle at your comment as he ushered you inside. Yes, it's confirmed his place is WAY nicer than yours. You grimace in retroactive embarrassment as you view his minimally decorated space. There’s just enough to show someone lives here but it is devoid of homely touches. As your mother said, it's not a home without a plant or two.

You feel him approach you, wrapping his arms around your middle again. “I know it's not much, I’m not here often enough to make it my own” he says with a shrug. You shake your head, as you turn in his arms, facing him. “Just need a couple plants,” you say, kissing his cheek. You jump slightly at the loud bark of laughter. “Baby girl, I’m a black thumb believe me you don’t want any plants anywhere near here” he said pulling you closer.

You wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head on his chest, enjoying the feeling of his steady heartbeat. It makes you feel safe. You nuzzle at his chest. You feel him sigh as a hand lifts your chin to face him, kissing you softly.

Your fingers start to run through his inky strands. The simmering heat in your veins rises as you feel his tongue softly lick at your lips. You oblige him and are graced with his velvet tongue and a low moan of pleasure. You need him. He has kept you on edge for long enough.

You tug on his hair hard, making him grunt. “Bedroom” you say between open mouth kisses. You hear him hum against your lips as he picks you up again. You cling to him, pressing kisses along his throat, your tongue tracing some of the tattooed lines.

Your back hits soft bedding as you both break for air. Kylo hovers over you, his cheeks flushed. His darkened eyes dart over your body, debating where to start first. You shiver involuntarily due to his lustful gaze. You sit up slightly and remove your blouse quickly, your nipples hardening due to the cool air.

You watch as his eyes widen as his hands move up your torso, feeling your soft skin. “Fuck” he groans as he leans over you, kissing your shoulders and neck. Your hands are in his hair as you shift your hips, grinding slightly on his thigh catching a slight feel of him. He grunts as you tug at his shirt, desperate for more of him.

“Take this off” you whine, your hands caressing his chest. He responds with a low laugh as he continues to kiss and nip at the top of your breasts. You watch him sit back and pull his t-shirt over his head, giving you a smug look. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sight of his chiseled chest, surprisingly void of tattoos.

His neck tattoo is framed by laurel wreath collar tattoos. His muscles flex under your gaze. “I don’t even have to ask, do I?” he chuckled, rubbing your thighs with his large hands. You rolled your eyes as he climbed back up your body, kissing you hard.

He growls as he pushes you down, ripping off your bralette as he positions himself between your legs. You yelp as he licks and bites your nipple, your back arching at the contact. He wraps an arm around you as the other works to remove your jeans. “I could feel you earlier baby, I bet you’re even wetter right now” he says, licking up your neck. You moan raggedly, your hands floating between his chest and shoulders.

His large hand cups your mound and you hear him groan over your whimpers. His touch is light but experienced as he strokes your folds. His large, calloused fingers sent shockwaves of pleasure though you as he played you like his precious Fender. Your hips roll, matching his pace.

“Kylo please” you whine, needing more. You gasp loudly as his hand shifts, two large fingers entering you quickly. The burn was quick and the stretch exquisite. He grunts as he picks up the rhythm, scissoring you as he ruts into your thigh. “So fucking perfect, I knew you would be” he says as your face contorts with pleasure.

You are so close. You feel the pressure in your belly mounting as you pull him down, kissing and nipping at his neck and shoulder. “Ky…” you say shakily as you keen at his neck. “That’s it baby girl, come on my fingers, then you can have my cock" he groans, his eyes never leaving you.

His deep voice along with his movements send you over the edge, screaming as you gush on his hand. Your hips shudder and your whole body convulses, a white light temporarily blinding you. Your head drops onto the bed, body singing his praises.

He pulls his fingers slowly and sits back, looking at his wet fingers. Your rough breathing hitches as he begins to lick his fingers clean, palming his cock through his jeans. “Hmmm, you taste amazing” he mused as his fingers left his mouth with a wet pop.

He chuckles as you stare at him. “I want to drink it right from you” he says kissing right above your aching pussy. Your hands go to his hair and pull desperately. “Please Kylo, stop teasing” you whine. You need him so badly.

He hummed and kissed you as your hand snaked between you two, undoing his belt. You could feel his cock through the cotton of his boxers, hot and hard. You gripped what you could of him, causing him to hiss. You continue to kiss him, removing your hand to help him remove the last annoying layers.

His hard cock smacks you in the stomach. You could feel how long and wide he is. He was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with. But he will make it good, you told yourself, you had to trust him.

His lips leave yours as he shifts above you. You see him take himself in hand, lazily pumping as he looks into your eyes. “You okay?” he rasps, his chest and cheeks flushed. You look down momentarily at his cock, the head red and angry.

"Baby girl, I got you okay. I promise" he croons as he cradles your face. “You tell me if it’s too much okay?” his thumb rubbing your cheek. Your remaining anxiety vanishes as you look into his soulful eyes. He’s not here for a quick fuck. He feels the connection, just like you do. “I trust you Kylo” you say, smiling and kissing his palm.

He raises one of your legs around his hip, opening you up wider. You gasp as you feel him rub himself through your folds, gathering your wetness. You both gasp and groan as he notches himself at your entrance and slowly slides a couple inches in. You reach for his face and kiss him, swallowing his moans.

He felt huge inside you. His fingers prepped you well, but he was still a lot. You shift your hips up, grimacing slightly. “Babe?” he whispers, “Baby look at me." You open your eyes and see that he is trembling, holding himself steady.

“I’m okay” you huff, rocking your hips against him “Just move”. He nods as he kneels on the bed shifting the angle. It’s better. You moan out a yes as you feel the slide of his cock. You can feel every ridge and vein. “Fuck you’re so tight baby, fuck” he moans, gripping your leg and hip hard, sinking in more. Your hands grip his arms as you meet his thrusts.

Your breathing increases as his hand shifts to your clit. He plays you perfectly as his cock hits that elusive special spot. “Please, please” you whine, bucking your hips, greedy for more of him. You pull him down on top of you again and kiss him hard. Your hands lock on to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh. He grunts as he grips you tight, his thrusts quickening.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he hits your cervix. “Kylo…Ky…I’m…” you moan, almost delirious at the feeling. “Baby…so good… Fuck…so lucky to fuck you…to feel you… cum for me sweetheart” he rambled, nipping at your neck. You let loose, screaming his name, riding the waves of ecstasy flowing through you as you writhe under him. Your pussy grips and flutters around him as he bucks into you frantically.

“Fuck, baby, oh fuck” he growled, kissing you quickly. You watch his face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure as he raises up on his elbows, grunting loudly as he spills into you. You hum through the aftershocks at the feeling of him twitching inside you painting your insides white.

You take big lungfuls of air as your body comes down from its peak. Kylo hovers above you panting hard. In one fluid motion, Kylo wrapped his arms around you and rolled onto his side. “didn’t want to squish you” he huffs, running his fingers through your hair.

“Yes, thank you for being so considerate” you mumble into the crook of his neck. You feel him chuckle at your retort and press a kiss on top of your head. “You’re amazing Y/N” he said with a sigh, rubbing his hands along your bare back. Your face warms at his praise. “You aren’t so bad yourself handsome” you replay, shifting your hips around his half hard cock.

You both groan as he slips out of you. You grimace at the feeling as well as the amount of fluid which escapes you. You know it’s natural, but it still feels gross. A finger lifts your chin so your eyes can meet his. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his face full of concern.

You kiss his swollen lips gently while pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s nothing Kylo” you say, kissing him again. “Just feel a little gross that’s all, it’s not a big deal” you shrug, hoping your admission will calm him. “Oh ok, c’mon then” he said, rolling off the bed.

You barely had time to say anything before he picked you up bridal style and waltzed into the bathroom you didn’t even know was there. “Kylo! What are you doing? Put me down!” you squeal, wiggling in his hold. He squeezed you tighter and laughed. “Nope, gotta clean up my dirty girl before I can have her again” he growled in your ear as he walked into the massive glass shower, flipping on the spray.

Thank you for all your continued love and support, its my first try at this - be nice please 😣😅 love my girls @asnackdriver, @ladyzimmerman, @the-wayward-rose, @thepilotanon, @punk-in-docs 💖

#adam driver #kylo ren x reader #knights of ren #kylo ren #kylo ren au #rockstar! kylo ren #star wars au #kylo x y/n #star wars #kylo smut #kylo ren fanfic #kylo fanfic

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magnum-caelum · 22 days

Note

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

Does your character have a favorite outfit?

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

Is there an item your character liked that they can’t get back?

Where is your character's comfort place?

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

How does your character relax?

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

Does your character have a sleep routine?

for Kishyan, Vittoria, and Noah :D

- tired

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

Kish has pretty prominent dimples when he smiles. And you get to see them often, because he smiles a lot!

Vittoria has freckles that fans think are adorable. She also has a heart-shaped birth mark on her calf!

Noah's most notable feature is his habit of covering his face. But in the few times he's appeared without face coverings, his deep-set eyes are noticeable. Other than that, his broad shoulders. He hits the gym a lot.

Does your character have a favorite outfit?

Kish? Not really LMAO. Most of the time he throws on whatever seems the most comfy. So his favorite outfit would be sweats and a hoodie.

Vittoria likes this comfy long-sleeved crop top, paired with some skinny jeans and jewelry.

Noah likes wearing team merch a lot. Doesn't necessarily have a favorite outfit, but has a favorite jacket. it's nice, soft leather that he's had forever.

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

Kish would get those solid bands around his biceps.

Vitty would get a simple/minimalist butterfly and flower design on her arm or a pattern of flowers on her thigh.

Noah would probably get those like smoky flame type tattoos. Maybe across his arm-shoulder. (like the photo below. credits to tattoo artist Neo Nguyen)

Is there an item your character liked that they can’t get back?

Kish had a computer that he really really liked. Doesn't remember the brand of it or anything, it was a laptop that his dad had gotten for him. And it got stolen. He still thinks about it from time to time and gets salty.

Vittoria's lost a bracelet her uncle had gotten her once. She was really upset about it for a long time.

Noah can't get back his relationship with his parents hahaahahahaa...

Where is your character's comfort place?

Kish: Either Eli or Miguel's room. Not cuz they're in a relationship or anything (they're not. yet, anyways), just cuz he feels comfortable in his friends' room. It's been far from the first time that either Eli or Miguel have pulled back their covers, excited to go to sleep, only to be met with a curled up Kish hugging their pillow asleep.

Vitty: Her little nook-sunroom!

Noah: In the driver seat of his car. It's the one place he can really call his own.

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

Kish: Developed Miguel's habit of walking around the house shirtless lol. Other than that, his big brother's habit of raising his eyebrows (both of them) whenever things get awkward.

Vittoria's answered here!

Noah sees himself adopting Bas's habit of drinking tea. He'll be boiling water on a kettle and be like "ah. He's rubbing off on me isn't he."

How does your character relax?

Kish relaxes by watching Bollywood shows. Reminds him of his mom. Either that or hanging out with friends.

Vittoria relaxes with her cat or by going for a drive with her siblings.

Noah doesn't relax.

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

Kish wants to hear that he isn't annoying, that he's genuinely liked by people.

Vittoria's... pretty good actually.

Noah would like to hear that everything is going to be okay and that he's enough as he is.

Does your character have a sleep routine?

Kish? Absolutely not. Stays up till 3 playing games and wakes up at 12 pm. And then goes to sleep at 10 the next day and wakes up at 6.

Vittoria has a pretty normal routine. Doesn't even get jetlagged.

Noah has insomnia. Tries to sleep at 10-11 every night but it doesn't always work out. And he's a very very light/surface sleeper. Feels like he doesn't actually get rest half the time.

#> noah #> vitty #> kish

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blamemma · 2 years

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Top 5 Maxiel headcanons you've come up with

this is going under the cut because it got waaayyy too long to quickly (also this very quickly divulged into headcanons vs. au's oops sorry) (also that first one i could really expand more on if i had any brain power whizzing through my head today)

max is obsessed with daniels tattoos but not in the sense of them being sexy and hot (he likes them also in that way, plz keep writing it into fics xx ) but in an appreciation way....i truly believe max would love museums and art galleries (more traditional than new wave kinda ones, at those he'd be like 'but daniel, i could easily make that, why is it £1,000,000)....idea stems from his love of geography and maps and history but I can honestly see him wandering around the national portrait gallery or the rijksmuseum and admiring these portraits and statues of historical figures and just spouting his facts that he somehow knows and enquiring about how they were made...LIKE SORRY imagine max with one of those lil headset things with the really bad headphones which are often so tiny they fit over no ones head that you get and you type the number in that corresponds to the art you're currently looking at and it tells you all about it hE'D LOVE IT (i think idk i'm hypothesising about a man i dont know) i just think max likes the slower things in life from what he says in his interviews and stuff and I think if he knew he could just wander around and not be noticed and take his time admiring things...he would..sO anyway back to the tattoos got a bit distracted I think Max likes Daniel's tattoos because they're all different...you've got his massive thigh tattoo which is traditional/neo-classical style full of colour and bright and has dedications to family and home...and then you've got text ones but a lot of them are done in different fonts, some more minimalist than others and then you've got the astronaut and the cupid which so obviously have stories behind them and max would love to be told those stories, repeatedly, never tires of hearing daniel explain his tattoos to him and i think he just likes that daniel has art all over him that HE gets to admire....when daniel gets new ones he sits and shows max the designs and asks what he thinks (same with his merch) and max is just straight-up honest and helps daniel tweak things

2. an ode to mine and ray's single dad daniel au but its truly one of the things i now think about most often because its loving someone and their someone!! knowing that loving them means loving their child and their family and that not being a problem!! for max, that is so easy, because it's daniel's child, he loves daniel (even though he doesn't really realise it yet) and so it is easy to love henry??! max literally does not second guess it all whereas daniel is panicking, has seen max and henry get along since he first introduced them (henry really hasn't known a life without max also being there) but adding this extra dimension, where max is something more to him, a partner/lover, and therefore something else to henry terrifies him - he backs out of taking the next step with max SO often because he would rather continue to get these little family moments of him max and henry which he can watch over and pretend they're a real family than take a risk on a relationship with max and truly ruin it and leave henry without max and ultimately leave himself without max!! it's about your priorities as a parent and sometimes thinking you're making the best decision when ur not!!

3. daniel is obsessed with max...u literally just have to refer to the countless interviews where he mentions him, unprovoked, and the way his face lights up!! loves to worship his body, loves seeing how it has changed....THE THESIS (thank you @fourmula1 for ur service)....and i obviously think max is also obsessed with daniel....but its just different idk words are evading me but like daniel knew max as a teenager as a spritely 17 year old and he's now seeing him as a man at 25 winning two world championships already??!?!!?? eyah there's gotta be a bit of admiration and obsession.

4. things got frosty in the middle part of this season between them both because they can't communicate. daniel will hide behind jokes, often self-depreciating, when times get realllyyy tough, and max just wants honesty. wants daniel to lay his cards on the table and tell max how he feels. wants to see daniel punch a wall if that will make him feel better. and so they just....weren't talking....because anytime max asked, he just wouldn't get the truth and then when he'd call daniel out on it daniel would get defensive....i dont think max would want to help with the situation... they know their boundaries when it comes to racing and their teams and what they can and can't say to each other...but I think essentially what happened was just a breakdown in communication and max just feeling like he was being left on the sidelines with a depressed bf who he didn't know how to help...they regressed for a little bit....spent time apart....daniel went to montana and then perth...max spent time in monaco with his friends, rode jet skis, partied etc. they missed each other, they pined for each other, they got advice off their friends, they kissed they talked now they're ok again etc etc. and daniel knows that he CAN tell max anything and max will listen or give advice, whatever daniel wants, but he just needs to know

5. ...they're both vers... like what you like read what you wanna read enjoy what you enjoy we're all writing and reading about these men for our own enjoyment and I also like reading different people's takes on either/or... BUT i just think sometimes a man needs to fuck and sometimes he needs to be fucked and there's different reasons why and its whatever the moment calls for but we go back to number 3 and the obsession daniel has with how max has changed and its just another way for him to enjoy and obsess over this change in max....i do think they would have started with daniel topping but as max becomes more confident in his skin and LOVES what daniel does to him he wants to give daniel the same....max lOVES to make people happy, daniel fucking him makes him so happy and content and he knows that makes daniel happy to but he wants to try it the other way, try something new etc etc. it's about them pleasing each other at the end of the day and just being able to serve each others needs....

#asks #5 things game #this is a mess sorry #i have done 4 things on my list this was my reward #dr #mv #maxiel

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the-type-a · 1 year

Note

Hey babes✨ I popped in and seen some HC sharing so here *throws these your way*

-When Courtney loses her shit due to stress and overworking herself and because she tends to neglect her mental health, it really gets to her sometimes, so to make her feel better Duncan will say some shit like “Babe you put the Hot in Psychotic!” It’s dumb and sweet in it’s own weird way, but it works.

-adding onto that, Duncan reassures her that she’s dating a criminal with daddy issues, he’s not exactly the most stable either lmao

-Thinking back to season 1 when they said that Katie and Sadie probably got eaten by wolves, I HC that they both have dark humour and enjoy watching South Park.

-Duncan has a bad habit of laughing when he gets nervous so in bad situations he can’t help but laugh and it triggers Courtney into laughing while people look on in horror, they truly do have hearts but can’t handle serious situations(despite Courtney saying otherwise)

-Courtney listens to Dad rock & Duncan decides to collect vinyls for her.

-IDC Courtney is superstitious while Duncan isn’t, until SOMETHING SPOOKY happens lmao Duncan ends up being the chicken while Courtney’s like “I got this, get behind me.” *she proceeds to smudge the place*

-Duncan loves it when Courtney mutters quietly to herself in Spanish and every now he hears swear words which makes him smile or chuckle.

-When the Paparazzi took photos of their matching tattoos after S2, Duncan stole the magazine that published it & put the picture of the article on his wall next to the picture of the KB5 in season 1 he stole from Geoff

-I always liked how Courtney had pink PJ’s despite having neutral coloured clothing, and people HC her to have a plain minimalist room but not me lmao I HC that her room is pink & full of soft things, and things that bring her comfort. Outside she has a RBF, intimidating af & dressed like she means business but in her room she’s chillin’ with her millions of teddy bears under 5 of her softest pink blankets & her princess canopy fr

-Courtney creates her own shampoo using oils & other natural shit which is her secret of why it’s soft, shiny & smells good. Her abuela taught her how to make it and Duncan smells her hair CONSTANTLY, if he hugs her in greeting she immediately hears “SNIFFFFFF” and his face nuzzling her head.

-Courtney looks godly in bell bottoms, so Duncan bought her some in every color.

-Courtney the type of girls to pop pimples & pluck his ingrown stubble, and eventually she starts cleaning his piercings for him, it calms her down & keeps her occupied. So if she’s getting on Duncan’s nerves atm then he’ll be like “hey wanna clean my piercings for me? I’m lazy” and she’ll immediately stfu & give him peace lmao

-I have a HC that Duncan gives courtney a stick n poke tatt, and of course she’s like “you better disinfect that shit GOOD” after he gives her one, she probably falls asleep and when she wakes up she sees him giving himself a matching one in the mirror.

-HC that Courtney really gets into Horoscopes at one point & Duncan’s like “sure babe whatever makes you happy” giving her his time of birth and everything lmao

-also I headcanon that she got him into stargazing and teaches him about the constellations and what star is which, etc.

-Cuz Courtney drinks a lot of coffee, Duncan sends her those memes of coffee making you need the bathroom immediately after & Courtney just tells him to stfu

-IDC Courtney is Coquette af, she drinks coffee, listens to Lana del Rey, loves poetry & has horrible mental health with mommy issues but atleast she’s cute✨

-Duncan’s the type of MF to blow up Courtney’s phone with texts so she doesn’t respond at times when he gets annoying or she’s busy, so she put him on DND(he always presses send anyways) and eventually he makes her pay attention to him by climbing in her window and being like “y aren’t u answering me” “I’M BUSY” “so?”

I miss your Duncney spam 🥹

- Courtney mid-crisis 🤝🏼 Duncan’s stupid one liners. She absolutely cracks a smile but then goes, “I’m spiraling stop making me smile!”

- Duncney spiraling together? Oh boy. Someone go check on them before they burn down the city.

- We 100% needed a moment after those two line deliveries where Duncney just look at each other and go, “Ew, stop that.” simultaneously because they were never supposed to just piggy back off each other like that lmao. Duncan definitely is the one to be watching it and Courtney is so annoyed with it but finds herself laughing during some episodes. Now it’s just something they use as background noise.

- It’s the way some of Duncan’s habits have rubbed off on Courtney. Like when he was laughing at DJ during the intro in season 1? You just know in his mind he was like “Oh shit!” and Court was just not having it. BUT NOW? Oh boy, if anything happens they can’t look at each other or they will bust out laughing. It’s so bad.

- Stop, imagine Duncan just seeing a bunch of things that Courtney loves and surprising her with little gifts every now and then?

- No because Duncan is 100% used to all the superstitions and all. It’s to the point where if something happens he even says what it means before Courtney and she’s just like stunned but so proud that he remembers? Like imagine Geoff dropping a fork and Duncan just going, “Oh. That means someone’s coming over uninvited.” And Geoff is just like dude wtf? And Courtney’s just like, “He’s right.” Now Geoff is freaking tf out with the, “WHO?”

- Duncan cannot get enough of Courtney speaking in Spanish. Don’t get me started on when she’s pissed and just goes off, he’s in love man. He also picks up and bits and pieces of whatever she or her family says because Italian has some similarities.

- Imagine Courtney going into his room and being like, “Is that us?” And he just rips it down like “what are you talking about?” But he’s already been caught 😂

- Courtney can’t even be mad when Duncan cals her princess because she indeed is one. Her room is proof of how much her parents spoil her. The vanity, the walk in closet, the big ass bed with silk sheets and a billion pillows. Like girl, who are you fooling? The first time Duncan sneaks in he’s like, “I knew you were a Princess.”

- Stop I can literally even see Courtney completing those online tests to figure out what shampoo/conditioner works best for your hair. She knows her hair is one of her assets and refuses to let it look unhealthy.

- Duncan subtly buying Courtney clothing pieces that make him go wild? 👀 He knows what he’s doing LMAO

- Sometimes Duncan is lounging around the house without a shirt and Courtney sees a bump that absolutely needs to be popped by her so she’ll just squeeze it without any warning. Duncan’s cursing and flinching and all Courtney does is tell him to stop being such a baby.

- 😱 I NEED FANART OF DUNCAN GIVING HIMSELF A MATCHING TATTOO LIKE THAT.

- *slams fist* LISTEN TO ME. Horoscopes and shit are so entertaining. I begged Marcus to find out his time of birth and even called his mom, grandparents, and was SO close to contacting the hospital because I NEEDED to know. So yes. Courtney is 100% finding out his chart just for fun. And this 100% ties into the stargazing 🥹

- Duncan has no chill. Let my girl enjoy her coffee without the acknowledgment of what happens after 😂

- LMAO YES AT LEAST SHES CUTE 🥲💅🏽

- I just know for a fact Duncan is so damn annoying. She could be in the middle of a meeting and he’s blowing up her phone for no reason at all, then probably calls her work just to be like “What if I got arrested again?”

#total drama #duncney #td courtney #td duncan #total drama courtney #total drama duncan

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pclarnight · 9 months

Text

☼☾ ( halle bailey , 23 , she/her , cis woman , grey #5 ) - have you seen dahlia grey ? we’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re whimsical but also loquacious . when you think of them , you think of dancing daisies and swaying grass , bubbly laughter filling a quiet room , deciphering dreams .

BASIC OVERVIEW ,

given name . dahlia anne grey .

nickname(s) . dahl , doll , little one / little flower ( by her parents ) .

d.o.b. & age . september 7th , twenty3 years old .

astrological sign . virgo .

language(s) . english , moderate french .

gender identity & pronouns . cis woman , she/her .

orientation . people , has never been fussed in any form .

marital status . unbetrothed , available .

family . born to the greys & is the youngest .

title . lady in waiting .

INTROSPECTION ,

the positives . whimsical , empathetic , adventurous , genuine .

the negatives . loquacious , impatient , unconventional , perplexing .

moral alignment . neutral good .

temperament . sanguine .

mbti placement . enfp , the campaigner : enthusiastic , creative & sociable free spirits who can always find a reason to smile .

interests . botany , flower pressing , celestial cartography , stargazing , horseback riding , learning new things .

skills . has an ever present green thumb : anything she plants is always sure to grow beautifully , an acute ability to mimic any accent she hears -- making those around her second guess where she's from has always been cause for amusement . perfect pitch ! while music / singing isn't her main focus , dahlia has a beautiful voice & can find any note .

quirks . is often humming to herself , refuses to hurt any animal or insect no matter how small , counts the steps as she walks downstairs , has trouble keeping still at times .

fears . disappointing those she cares for , rejection when falling in love .

PHYSICALITY ,

hair color & style . a deep , dark brown . most often braided in some way .

eye color & vision . dark brown , 20/20 vision .

height . 5'2" , 157 cm .

distinguishing marks . beauty mark above her left eyebrow .

tattoos . a small dahlia flower in what would be identified as minimalistic style at the side of her right ankle , usually hidden from the eye as it's there for her own comfort .

face claim . halle bailey .

BACKSTORY ,

this will be written soon i promise :sob:

WANTED CONNECTIONS ,

inner circle ! essentially her best friends , those she can always count on & vice versa . the people that don't judge her , that she's at home with :]

first infatuation ???? first kiss ???? she has no experience whatsoever , has always been too consumed with her family & their duties as well as diving fully into life & living in her own world : so give her someone that shakes that up a bit !

teachers ? people that show her the ropes of her next fixation . she has a thirst for knowledge unlike any other

bad influence ..... show her how to live a little in a different way ! alternatively , someone that she can be a good influence on :] ( or both . at the same time )

more tba + up for brainstorming from scratch !

#francehq.intro #when i say this genuinely took me all day ..... please bare with me as i get the others done <3 laksmdf;lsdmf

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a-milky-strawberry · 2 years

Text

BTS Reaction - When You Have a Tattoo (+ Meanings) (Hyung Line)

A/N: hey guys. i know i’ve been gone a while and i’m really sorry about that. work has been hell and i can’t honestly remember when i last got more than 4 hours of sleep. however, i’m going to start up a new schedule for myself to update this blog full of scenarios and reactions that i have saved up so that this blog doesn’t become dead in the water. ALSO. i have a youtube channel now. it’s not much, i’m mostly going to start posting playlists and themed/aesthetic playlists on there so it would mean a lot if you guys could check it out: here

strap in. this is a long one.

tw//: mentions of suicide, old cutting scars, and implications of anorexia or atleast malnourishment

---------

Jin: (Arm)

You and Jin have been dating for a while and he noticed a little thing about you. You always wore long-sleeved shirts. Not that he was complaining or anything, but you always seemed to wear them. Even in a formal situation you would wear a beautiful dress with long sleeves. Jin simply thought of it as an aesthetic. Plus, you never seemed to mind or care, even on the hottest days so as long as you were fine with it so was Jin.

So, when Jin popped by your apartment for a spontaneous movie night without so much as a text or call, he was a little starstruck when he saw you sporting a tank top. Of course you wore tank tops. You didn’t have to wear a long sleeve shirt everywhere. Just as Jin was getting the couch comfortable for the movie night and you brought him the popcorn, that’s when he saw it.

A simple, minimalistic tattoo of a rose in the middle of your arm with blobs of watercolor red filled into the petals like an overlay. To say Jin was taken aback by it wouldn’t be full exaggeration and atleast he finally knew why you wore those long sleeved shirts everywhere you two went together. Nonetheless, Jin thought it was beautiful.

Jin gently traced your tattoo and looked at you in awe.

“When did you get this?” he asked, still gently tracing the simplicitic drawing.

“Oh, this?” you replied, “I got this, like, maybe over a year ago back when I was college. I like minimalism. I always wanted to get a tattoo, but I didn’t want an extravagant one. I wanted something kinda small and cute but also that held a lot of meaning to me.”

Jin tenderly nodded his head. “And does it mean anything?”

You felt your cheeks warm as you let out an awkward giggle. “Yeah, but the meaning is kinda cheesy and weird and really embarrassing...”

“Please tell me.” Jin softly begged as he pulled his secret weapon: that handsome face.

You playfully rolled your eyes and let out a groan. “You know I can’t say no to that face. It’s basically cheating.”

You faced your tattoo towards Jin and began to tell your story. “Well, a while ago -- I guess over a year ago -- I was struggling. A lot. I didn’t know what I wanted to do in life or even when I should do it. All my siblings and cousins and relatives were doing so many cool and great things. Traveling, learning multiple languages, charity work, getting accepted into prestigious colleges and companies. And then there was me; a person couldn’t even decide if they wanted to finish college or drop out altogether. I guess you could say I was a little lost and confused. I couldn’t hold down a job and I would always say the same thing to my parents, “I’m holding out for something better” or “I’ll find my way eventually”. I was also broke and the only kid in my family still living with their parents. Growing up I always had this idea of what I wanted to do when I got older, but then when I got older I realized I didn’t have much of an idea as much as a passing thought. I still felt like that little kid dreaming about what I really wanted to be.``

Your tone had taken on a softer tone and your eyes lost a little light. Jin’s heart ached to see you so sad. You had never told him anything about this.

“So, you were a little insecure because your family seemed to be doing better than you?” Jin asked carefully.

You snorted and faced forward, now facing the TV that played Netflix trailers of popular shows. “To say I was a little insecure would be an understatement. I was full blown jealous. I would hope and pray every day that I would find what I was meant to do. My passion.” You were now staring at your hands, your eyes completely downcast as a small sad smile formed on your face. “I always felt like I was letting my parents down, y’know? Quitting job after job, telling them that they were just overreacting about their worries for me. When in actuality I think they knew that I was lost and confused about what I wanted to do. I think they saw how pushing others caused my siblings to strive for their success and they thought that the same would work on me. Which I didn’t have to tell you it didn’t.”

You leaned back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling mindlessly following the spin of the ceiling fan. “I got into a huge fight with my folks about dropping out of school and just taking a year to find myself. I ran off to my grandmother’s where I cried and spilled out all my anxieties and worries over this peach matcha tea she used to make for me whenever I got really upset.”

You then faced Jin with a smile. “That’s when she told me this story about these different colored roses. About how each rose had a meaning and the color associated with that rose can bring about a different outlook and meaning to the flower. And at the end of the story she said, “No matter how beautiful colored roses there are in the world, Y/N, you will always be my red rose.”

Jin smiled along with you. “That’s a beautiful thing to say.”

“Yeah, I never truly understood it until she died. She died a few weeks after that conversation. I was the last person to see her alive.” Jin rubbed your back gently. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must’ve been rough for you.”

“Yeah,” you let out a shaky breath as you felt your eyes getting wet. “It was really rough and I can’t tell you how long I cried after the funeral. Heh, I cried so hard I lost weight.” You turned to face your boyfriend. “Do you know the meaning of a rose, Jin?”

Jin shook his head.

“It means a few different things. It symbolizes passion, romance, affection, beauty, and grace, but can also represent balance depending on the color. Many colored roses have completely different meanings for different occasions. But do you know what my favorite meaning for the red rose is?”

Again, Jin shook his head.

“Immortal love. So, when my grandmother told me that I would always be her red rose and that was the last thing she ever told me, those words rang in my head for weeks. Then, one day, after I finally got all my sadness out, I finally knew what I wanted to do. I was going to start living like the meaning of a rose. Full of passion!” You smiled brightly. “I dropped out of school and started living the life I wanted. Finding myself in each and every activity I could afford. And I did! In the beauty and grace of music. In the balance of my own schedule and the affection I hold towards the art.” You turned to Jin with the same bright smile and softly caressed his face. “And in the romance of my true love.”

It was now Jin’s turn to blush. “True love, huh?”

You happily nodded your head. “If it weren’t for my fight with my parents that led my to my grandmother’s final words that led me on the path to starting music which in turn led me to you, then I’d probably be still living with my parents, working job after job after job, being miserable and my grandmother’s words would’ve been her dying breath.”

“I guess I have a lot to thank her for then.” Jin smiled as he held your waist and snuggled into your neck. You smiled gently at the thought. “Heh, yeah.” you replied somberly. “On some days I visit her tombstone and talk to her about you and how things are going. If you want, and if it won’t be too weird, maybe we could visit her together.”

Jin smiled into your neck. “I would love to. I have to meet the woman that brought my rose to me.”

Namjoon: (Spine)

Things between you and Namjoon were starting to get quite hot and heavy. You guys seemed to be in a perpetual lovey-dovey stage that always involved either touching, hugging or kissing each other. You tried to keep the PDA to a minimum on your part, especially around the other members. You went to high school. You knew how gross and annoying it was to always see that same couple every day in the hallway making out everywhere they went. Namjoon on the other hand thought that if the members had a problem with it they could easily look somewhere else, go somewhere else, or put on some noise-canceling headphones. Beats? Raycons? Sony? That price for some noise-canceling headphones is almost nothing to BTS. However, you came to a compromise with Namjoon and the rest of the members after Jin once caught you guys in a full-blown makeout session on the kitchen counter. He still brings up how he had to scrub and disinfect every inch of the kitchen just in case of possible “contamination”. The compromise stated that the PDA displayed by the two of you would have to be in a closed off area with the minimum of two people in the vicinity and there were to only to be affection, if not limited to, hugging, cuddling, kissing, massages (nothing sexual, such as head, feet, back, and neck), and naps. Nothing that displays explicit PDA in a vicinity of more than two people such as making out, grinding, biting, hickies, dirty talk, and/or other explicit behavior that should be done in private. Everyone seemed to agree and were even more comfortable that you came up with the compromise. Even though it took a while for Namjoon to come around the rules he found that he did like cuddling you after a hard studio session or a concert more than making out every second you two were together.

Namjoon was in his studio working when he got a call on his cell. Normally, he would ignore the call or at least put it on silent and text the person on the receiving end that he was busy, but he made an exception as he could use a break for a few minutes. He looked at the ID and saw that Suga was calling him.

“Hello?” Namjoon answered.

“Yeah, uh, Namjoon?” spoke an oddly nervous Yoongi.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Umm, could you come to my studio?”

Namjoon quirked his eyebrow as he looked up from scanning the lyrics in his notebook. “Why? Is something wrong? Did Jungkook and Taehyung lock you out of it again?”

“Uh,... no… It’s Y/N… she uh…”

Namjoon immediately jumped out of his chair and raced towards Yoongi’s studio, hanging up all too quickly. Were you hurt? Did something happen to you? Yoongi did sound nervous over the phone. A wave of anxieties rushed over Namjoon as he quickened his pace towards Genius Studio.

Namjoon finally made it towards the studio to find you kneeling over on your hands and knees with a pain-stricken look on your face and with Suga by your side anxiously wondering what to do. Namjoon rushed to your side, looking all around you. “Baby? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you sick?” Question after question, Namjoon bombarded you faster than he gave you time to answer.

“My… back…” you wheezed.

“Your back? What’s wrong with your back?” Namjoon gave your back only a gentle stroke only to be met with a pained grunts and hisses escaping your mouth.

“She threw her back out trying to help me move some of my new sounding equipment into the studio. She wanted to only call her a ride back home so she can take her painkillers, but I thought it would be best if you took her home. I’d feel a lot better if her boyfriend took her home in this condition than some strange taxi service.” Yoongi explained, pointing to three large boxes packed to the brim with sounding equipment, instruments, and speakers.

“Thanks Suga. I’ll make sure she gets home safe and sound. Walk with me to the car. I’ll have to carry her.”

Yoongi nodded and went to open the door while Namjoon picked up bridal style. Your face was flushed with embarrassment. Not only did you throw your back out after adamantly stating to Yoongi that you could move all his boxes without any help, you’re now being carried out to the car park like a child. As Namjoon gently put you in the passenger seat and Yoongi closed the door, you rolled down the window.

“I’m really sorry, Yoongi… I hope I didn’t break anything when I-” you started to explain but then you were immediately cut off by Yoongi.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t worry about it. I think you already know the story of how I dislocated my shoulder before. Plus, I should’ve just paid extra for the dolly just to prevent any injury from either you or me. So, don’t worry too much. Focus on getting better.” Yoongi smiled as he ruffled your hair. Now you were really pouting. If you didn’t already feel like a weak child then the hair ruffling really made it clear.

You all said your goodbyes as Namjoon slowly pulled off the spot and out of the car park, on his way to your apartment.

When you finally returned home and Namjoon finally fished the keys out of your back pocket, Namjoon made a b-line for the couch. Ever so gently he put you on your stomach and you let out a soft sigh as you melted into the couch, the stinging pain of your back beating and pulsating.

“Can I get you anything babe?” Namjoon asked softly.

“Yeah, uh, in my bathroom down the hall, you know the one, in my medicine cabinet there should be a brown bottle with blue pills in it. Can you bring it to me with a glass of water?” “Of course!” Namjoon scurried off to your bathroom in search of the medicine and you heard a few crashes and bangs along the search. He called out a timid ‘sorry’ and you tried not to laugh as he came tumbling into your kitchen to get your water. Namjoon placed the water on the coffee table in front of you and opened your bottle of medicine.

“What is this? The prescription is too faded to read how much you need.” Namjoon asked, squinting at the bottle trying to make out the faded English letters.

“They’re painkillers and I need to take two.” you answered as you held out your hand.

“Are you sure? Plus, this bottle looks pretty old. Maybe you need a new prescription.”

“Yes, I’m sure Namjoon. Just please give them to me already. My back is killing me.”

Namjoon placed two pills into your hand and you gulped them down quickly. You then grabbed the water next to you to smoothly chase down the chalky, gross aftertaste of the painkillers. You let out another gentle sigh as you waited for it to kick in.

Namjoon sat on the floor, head resting on your thighs. “I didn’t know you took painkillers.”

“I don’t regularly, but I have an old injury that kinda acts up on some days and I keep it around in case I need them.” you explained your face becoming flushed again with embarrassment. With the way you were talking it made you sound like you were an old person.

“An old injury? You injured your back?”

“Yeah, I did… um… a while ago or something…”

And here Namjoon thought you guys told each other everything. You never once spoke about this to him. Now it was Namjoon’s turn to be embarrassed. I mean… with all the stuff you two did it should’ve at least came up once. Just then, he came up with a great plan to make you feel better.

“Hey, how about a massage?”

“A massage?”

“Yeah, a nice soothing massage to relax your back while you wait for the painkillers to kick in.”

Well, a massage does sound nice right now and you can’t think of the last time you had a massage. “Okay, sure. I have some baby oil in my bathroom cabinets.”

Namjoon gave a quick nod and hurried back to the bathroom. He came only a few seconds and a few more crashes with lavender baby oil in his hands. He shot you a quick smile. “Do you need help taking off your shirt?”

You blushed again. “M-My shirt?”

“Um, yeah!” he laughed, setting the baby oil down on the coffee table. “Unless you want me to ruin your shirt, how else am I going to give you a back massage?”

Your face was now redder than a desert sky at sunset. “Y-You can take it off for me. But! Only just a massage! That’s all!”

Namjoon laughed again. “Of course.” He slowly lifted up your shirt and whispered softly in your ear. “What else did you have in mind? Naughty jagi…”

“If I weren’t in so much pain I’d kick your ass.” you pouted, smothering your face into your couch pillow.

Namjoon let out a hearty laugh and with a flourish slipped your shirt over your head and folded it neatly on the coffee table. Namjoon then squirted some oil into his hands and gave them a nice rub. As he looked down at your bare back he noticed something.

“You have a tattoo?” he asked. He stared down at what looked like symbols and scribbles of some sorts in the middle of your spine.

“Hm? Oh yeah, that. Yeah. I got it forever ago. Around high school actually.”

“Wow…” he gaped in awe. You had a tattoo and you got it in high school? You were definitely holding back secrets. “Do these symbols and scribbles have any meaning or did you just want to get it?”

“They have meanings. Um, on top, do you see a symbol followed by a moon with a dotted circle around it?”

“Yeah.”

“The moon symbolizes feminine energy. And do you see the lotus flower and at the bottom those circles and lines? The lotus flower represents purity and the circles and lines are actually called “unalome” which means “path to enlightenment”.”

Namjoon nodded along to your explanation tracing the symbols and symbols along your spine finding it all fascinating. “Wow. Really? That’s really powerful. Why’s it on your back though? Why did you get it in the first place?”

“If you want to know the story, then I’d suggest putting those hands to work because it’s going to be a long one.”

Namjoon squirted some more oil into his hands and gently began to work on your lower back. You let out a purr as you sunk deeper into the couch and felt the soothing touches of your boyfriend. He sure did know his way around with those fingers.

“Hey, so tell me the story.” Namjoon piped in.

“Oh right. Well, when I was growing up I was a bit weaker and underdeveloped than most kids my age. And when I say underdeveloped I mean really underdeveloped. When I was five people still thought I was three years old. 1st graders were taller than me. And I was really weak. I would get sick easily and would have to miss out on a lot of things like school and making new friends. When I was at school, no one would play with me. My parents have made a fuss about me at each school I went to so most kids thought I was contagious and didn’t want to touch me or be near me because their parents told them that they’d get sick if they played with me.”

Namjoon clicked his tongue and shook his head. He knows that this was long ago but that seemed like a sad way to grow up. Kids can be so cruel sometimes.

“Not only that, but even if I could play I couldn’t keep up. I wasn’t fast or agile or even sneaky. After running for only a few minutes I’d be a coughing wheezing mess. Which meant I couldn’t play tag or hide-and-seek with the other kids. I was often exempt from classes like gym because I couldn’t keep up. The other kids thought I was just faking it to get out playing dodgeball or running laps or climbing that rope thingy. I got called all types of names that now don’t really mean anything to me because it happened so long and we were just kids y’know but back then it really, really hurt. I started to hate going to school more and more up until high school. Most of the kids that used to bully me or call me names had either moved away or went to a different high school or simply didn’t remember.”

“High school’s when you got the tattoo right? Did something happen?”

“Yeah, I got tired of being weak and looked down upon with pity by my classmates and teachers. It felt like they were putting me down with their looks and words. Like they were saying, “Hey, here’s some sympathy you weak, scrawny child. I have no idea what you’re going through so let me pretend you’re worth a damn by feigning interest in your life and giving myself a pat on my back for acknowledging you.” Or something like that.”

“Oh, babe. That couldn’t have been true.”

“And it wasn’t! It was just that stupid little voice in my head from kindergarten all the way to high school manifesting itself and telling me that no one around me actually cares. They all just want to feign sympathy from the weak kid so they can look like they actually care. So I wanted to make a change in myself. I didn’t want to be forever known as the weak kid all throughout high school. So, I signed up for my high school weight lifting club.”

“Weight lifting club? You were a weight lifter?” Namjoon asked, shocked, now massaging the middle of your back.

“The best, but we’ll get back to that in a minute.” you said, smiling brightly, remembering fondly of your high school days. “At first, the coach told me that there was no way he could in good faith let me join the club. I was weak, had respiratory problems, got sick easily, and I was 100 pounds soaking wet. I was just about to leave school when I ran into my first best friend, Liam. We had a few classes together but we never really talked up until that point. He asked me what was wrong and I told him all my struggles and how I really wanted to join the weight lifting team but the coach told me no. The way Liam looked at me was the first time anyone has ever looked at me without a look of pity. He had this… determined look in his eye. He talked with the coach and they came to an agreement that if I weighed 115 pounds by the end of the month, I could join by next semester. It was already a few months into the winter semester so if I could join by spring I’d be in the clear of everyone’s pity. We all agreed and Liam and I began to work even after the month had passed to reach my goal. Light training, jogging here and there, and a well-balanced diet made by Liam, my coach, and of course, my doctor.”

“That’s amazing, babe! Your parents must’ve been proud.”

“Oh, no! Nuh-uh! Not one bit! They thought I was going to hurt myself or something terrible was going to happen to me if I started lifting weights, which something did but we’ll get to that part. Anyway, I get back to the coach before the start of winter break and I’m just above my goal weight like 116 or 117 or something. I was ready to join the team in the spring. Liam and I worked and we trained and trained and trained. Liam was the only real one that believed in me to see it through. To push me to my greater limits. But, he always knew when I needed to take a break. And since I had joined after one person used a piece of equipment it would have to be wiped down and the locker room would have to be cleaned and sterilized every day. Oh, I should also mention that I was the only girl in that club.”

“What?! Really?!”

“Yep, it was all boys before I got there so they had to make a lot of adjustments and accommodations for me.”

“Well, look at my babygirl! Setting examples of strong women.”

“Oh, stop it!” you rolled your eyes, blushing. “Anyway, Every week I was getting stronger and better. I was the first freshman to deadlift 250 on the team, and my doctor said my health was looking better too. I looked better and even felt better. Weight lifting was such an amazing outlet for me. I was setting records almost every month. That’s when my coach enrolled me into a weightlifting competition similar to the Olympics but with the best student from every school. I was so pumped and I knew with Liam by my side I knew I could go and win it. I got the go ahead from my doctor and I got permission from my parents. The day the competition rolled around I was so excited. I was finally going to show everyone that I wasn’t that weak little kid they knew growing up. Skipping forward I make it to the final 3 rounds. The first round I lifted 275. Hold for 3 secs. And drop. Easy. The second round I lifted 300. Hold for 3 secs. And drop. I got a little shaky, but I was determined to win! The last guy lifts 315. And I’m thinking, “I gotta go big or else, I’m going home!” So I go up to 335. The crowd is whispering and aweing and my coach looks nervous. “Can she even pull this off?” Everyone is wondering. It goes quiet. I lift 335. And I drop.”

Namjoon’s eyes are big at your words. “You dropped? Like the weight?”

“No. I mean I drop. I folded. I dropped to the floor onto my back screaming bloody murder. God, the pain. It felt like I broke my back. Almost as if I snapped it. My coach and medical professionals are all gathered around me. I’m carried off onto a stretcher. The looks from the crowd and the other competitors all blur together until… I passed out. I woke up in the hospital hours later connected to morphine and my parents crying beside me. Spondylolysis. Repetitive strain, the doctor said. He didn’t know if I could ever weight lift again. I was crushed by that more than anything else. Not losing the competition. Not what the students at my school would think. Nothing.”

“Holy shit, baby! That sounds awful.”

“It was. I had to get surgery and attend multiple sessions of physical therapy at home. I was excused from school during all of it. The team would send me get-well soon cards, candy, homework, and flowers but nothing could make me feel better. I was completely and utterly depressed. I thought that if I couldn’t weight lift anymore then I’d just go back to being that weak kid that everyone had pity for. I wasn’t eating properly. All I did all day, every day, for the next few months was sleep and do physical therapy and maybe eat a few bits of food my mom would bring me. Thinking back on it now it must’ve broken her heart how upset I was. Even though she was against the idea from the very start, she saw me happy which in turn I guess made her happy. Soon, I had to go back to school. I was getting better and at least starting to walk better. I thought everyone would look down on me with pity once again.”

“Did they?”

“Heh, no. When I came back everyone was cheering and congratulating me. Giving me soft hugs, candy, and pats on the back. They gave me this huge card with everyone’s name in it. Everywhere I went they would shout compliments at me and tell me how strong I was to even make it to the top 3. I even inspired some girls to join the club for the next semester. Even other students from the competition would congratulate me. But I don’t think anyone was more proud of me than Liam and coach. Coach told me that in all his years of weightlifting at the school not one freshman had been able to enroll in the competition -- let alone make it to the top 3. I was the first female freshman to receive a varsity jacket only given to seniors. I even got a trophy. Well, not a real one. It was made by the team, but I think that counts more than some silly competition. Liam was so happy, you should’ve seen his face. And as Liam and I were walking home together, he said jokingly “You should get a tattoo on your back so you can remember that day.” And I took it to heart. I researched until I found the perfect tattoo. It took a lot of convincing but once I pulled up the back injury card they caved so fast. I wasn’t even 15 yet and I had my first tattoo.”

“Is that common in America?”

“Not really common. But if you’re under the age of 18 you can get a tattoo or piercing with your parents permission.”

“Really?”

“Yep! So, all together do you wanna know what it means?”

“Does it have a different meaning altogether?”

“Yep! Separately they have different meanings but altogether I like to think the meaning is the path.”

“The path?”

“Yeah. The moon represents my powerful feminine energy as I was the only girl to set records in the weightlifting team. The lotus represents my purity but also my rebirth and self-regeneration as I moved on from my depression once I realized that not everyone thought of me as weak. Finally, my unalome represents my path to how I discovered true enlightenment within myself. Just because I injured my back doesn’t mean my life is over. I was still able to train and do the things I loved to do even with a bad back. And with my treatment it’s actually way better than it was years ago. Put all these things together and it says that I am a strong and powerful woman waving her path through enlightenment.”

Namjoon smiled and kissed the top of your head. “That’s beautiful, baby. By the way, have your painkillers kicked in?”

“Yeah, a few moments ago. Thank you for the massage baby. You are seriously magic.”

“I do what I can.” Namjoon wiped his hands of the baby oil and sat by the couch again, his head resting on your thigh. He then eyed your bottle of painkillers and a frown grew on his face.

“Babe? Maybe we should get your prescription renewed just in case something like this happens again. I don’t want you taking these old pills from high school. It’s not safe.”

You let out a quiet hum. “Okay. Can we go tomorrow? I’m kinda sleepy…”

Namjoon smiled at you. “Of course. Let’s get you to bed. Couches aren’t good for your bad back anyway. It might aggravate it.”

Namjoon gently picked up and carried you off to bed. His jagi. A strong powerful woman. He always knew that.

Yoongi: (Wrist)

Being with Yoongi was always amazing. Everyday was like an adventure. If you count adventure as watching him masterfully working in his Genius Studio and taking naps together then you both are adventurous. In all honesty, you were amazed with Yoongi. His skillful raps, the way he made creating a beat out of nowhere seemed almost so easy, and his dedication to his work made you swoon. You’re in the same line of work as Yoongi, only not as successful. Which is fine! Your poor nerves couldn’t handle the amount of fame and recognition that Yoongi gets let alone BTS as a whole. Someone once recognized you from YouTube in a coffee shop and it took every ounce of fiber in your being not to run away. At first the member thought you were the shy and quiet type like Yoongi. You weren’t so much as shy and quiet as you were socially anxious. Always afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, not wanting to step on anyone’s toes, never speaking up so that your ideas don’t get shot down or called stupid. That was the way you’ve lived your life. A shadow that if no one heard sneeze or saw eat they’d think you were a ghost.

Yoongi was different from other people you’ve dated. He would often complement any beat or form of music you would make. He was always there if you needed advice. He was your guru and you were his inspiration. You guys thrived off each other. You two could talk for hours and yet say nothing in comfortable silence. You two shared everything. Well, almost everything. Like in Jin’s scenario you had a habit of wearing long-sleeved shirts. Yoongi normally wouldn’t mind but you would often wear them to bed and during the hottest days of the summer. However, Yoongi minded his business. He didn’t think it was necessary to question your outfit choices. If you were comfortable wearing it then that’s all that mattered. At least it would be if you weren’t odd about it. Not weird, but odd. Whenever he or another member would try to grab your wrist you’d pull away. Hard. You’d pull your sleeve down to your fingertips and mumble an excuse. Again, Yoongi didn’t really see the point in asking. It’s not like you were doing anything wrong.

Yoongi soon awoke to the sound of dishes softly clinking from the kitchen. With his eyes still closed he felt around the bed for you where you both were sleeping just moments ago. He patted the spot where you were supposed to be and found it empty and cold. You must’ve been up for a while. Picking himself up from his nice, warm bed he let out a grunt as he went to go find you. You were exactly where he thought: in the kitchen washing dishes. You barely had time to react before you felt two arms snake across your waist. You let out a small squeak in surprise but soon calmed down when you felt the familiar lips and rough voice grace your neck.

“What’re you doing? You should be sleeping with me.”

You let out a small giggle. “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. I came in here for a snack but then I saw the dishes piling up so I thought I might as well do them now so I don’t have to waste future quality nap time with my boyfriend.”

Yoongi let out a small hum. “This is why I love you. You’re always thinking five steps ahead.”

You laughed and continued to wash the dishes with Yoongi clinging and leaning on you, eyes closed and enjoying the soft clinking of dishes. Resting his chin on your shoulder he glanced down at your hands and saw your long sleeve risen a little higher than normal. Is that…? That looks like…

“You know you can go back to sleep if you want to. You don’t have to lean on me like this--”

“Do you have a tattoo?”

In a blink of an eye, the sound of a loud crash startles him but not you. A bowl you had in your hand had slipped through your fingers and shattered into the sink. You stood frozen in place as Yoongi scanned your hands.

“Woah! Are you okay? You didn’t cut yourself right?”

You didn’t answer him but as soon as you felt his fingers grace your wrist you snapped back into reality. You clung onto your wrist and held it close to your chest. Yoongi didn’t understand this reaction. It’s not like he’s never seen a tattoo before. Hell, Jimin and Jungkook are the most tatted ones. Was it something personal?

“Jagi? Are you okay?” he asked again. You didn’t answer him. You faced towards the sink again, still clinging onto your wrist like it was going to fall off.

“Y/N? Look, if you’re worried about it, I don’t care that you have a tattoo. I was just curious. I’ve never seen it before.”

“It’s… it’s not the tattoo I’m worried about.” you said, your voice shaking.

Yoongi quirked his eyebrow up and noticed you shaking. What was going on with you?

“Huh? What’re you talking about? If it’s not the tattoo then why are you being so weird about it?” he genuinely asked.

You slowly turned around, still shaking and your eyes looked like you were close to crying. Yoongi was going to say something else but you quickly cut him off.

“If I show you this… do you promise not to be mad?”

Now Yoongi was really confused. Was the tattoo offensive? Why would he be mad over something like this? He took a step towards you. “Of course. I promise I won’t be mad. I swear on my life.”

You took a few shaky breaths and closed your eyes. You held out your wrist towards him and slowly pulled up the sleeve just a bit. The black ink that he saw on your wrist was a tattoo. It was a small one. It was a small music note that trailed off into a heartbeat reading. Yoongi smiled gently.

“It’s really cute, Y/N. Why would I be mad over something small like this?”

You let out another shaky breath and opened your eyes. “Because… that’s not the part I’m talking about.”

Before Yoongi could say anything else you raised up your sleeve even higher and Yoongi’s own breath got caught in his throat. All over arm were cuts, small ranging from small to big and from many faint and few dark and deep cuts. Yoongi felt like he couldn’t breathe. The silence that filled the room was damn near suffocating. Yoongi wanted to say something. He needed to say something. But,... what do you say?

“I knew you’d be mad.” Your voice quickly snapped Yoongi out of trance. Your eyes were welled up with tears now and you were full blown shaking, your breathing was becoming very uneven and broken sobs bounced off each and every wall of the kitchen.

“Nononono! Baby! I’m not upset! Trust me, I’m not upset with you.” Yoongi was quick to catch himself and rub your arms to comfort you. “I’m just…” Shocked? Flabbergasted? Can’t believe this is actually happening?!! Okay, okay. First, he needs to calm down before his brain stops working.

“I’m just surprised, okay?” Yoongi said gently, trying even harder to comfort you without freaking you out. “Do you… um… do you wanna talk about it?” He didn’t want to rush you but he needed answers.

You took awhile to answer before eventually nodding your head. “I’ve never… really… I mean… This happened way before I met you. A long time ago, I wanted to kill myself…”

Yoongi felt all the wind knocked right out of his body. His legs felt like rubber, almost as if he was going to pass out from the sentence alone. You… wanted to kill yourself. Kill yourself? If any of the members were the most mentally health conscious it was Yoongi. He’s been on the other side of that shooting range. Yoongi wanted to know more.

“You ever have that little voice in your head tell you that everything you do is shit and you’ll never amount to anything so you might as well kill yourself? Well, I’ve heard that voice over and over and over. All throughout my life. I’ve been to a mental hospital twice and this might sound condescending to them but nothing could erase that voice in my head, screaming and clawing at me. Pushing me to my limits. Just waiting for me to break.”

Yoongi kept silent, nodding along to your very words. You didn’t need his words right now. He just needs to listen. So you continued.

“But you know what made that horrible voice stop? Music. Creating music, listening to music, studying music. It sounds totally stupid and cliche and like something out of a crappy cable daytime network show, but it’s true. Focusing on my music and listening to the music of others is what made that stupid voice shut up. When I had my headphones I could finally be at peace. I feel happy. Now, I’m not saying that music is the cure all for mental illness, but… it just… something happens to me when I sit down in my own little studio and create music. That’s why I got this tattoo. I guess as more of a reminder that I live for music and music, in weird terms, kept me going through those rough times. The only other time I didn’t hear that stupid little voice is when I was with you.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“Yeah, you have this… I don’t know what you would call it… aura? You have this aura about you that makes me relax and feel safe and warm. Like nothing will ever hurt me as long as I’m with you.”

Now Yoongi was going to cry. The man doesn’t cry much but when the waterworks were turning on now and there was now way of shutting them off. Yoongi pulled you into an engulfing hug. He buried his nose deep into your neck and yours in his neck. There you both stood for a few moments taking in each other's warmth and comfort. After a while, Yoongi was the first to say something.

“Words can’t describe how happy I am with you. I want you to know that you will always be warm and safe with me. And even with the other guys. Trust in them too to help you, okay?”

“Okay…” you sniffled.

“How long have you been--?”

“I’ve been clean for a year, Yoongi. Don’t worry. I haven’t thought about relapsing ever since I met you.”

Yoongi held onto you tighter and slowly pulled away, staring right into your eyes. “I’m happy to hear that, Y/N.” Yoongi took a deep breath. “Have you… have you thought of scheduling an appointment with a psychologist?” As much as Yoongi was glad to be your support system you would also need expert support from a professional.

You nodded solemnly. “I did when I was younger… but they just wrote me off as attention-seeking. I… don’t have the best experiences with therapists.”

Yoongi felt anger rise inside of him. What kind of “psychologist” just brushes off a person with obvious signs of suicidal tendencies and mental illness. It’s the kind of story that makes you sick to your stomach when some teenager kills themselves because they weren’t being heard. Maybe that’s why you were always so small with your opinions and needs. That asshole pushed away your signs for help and left you to sink or swim. Well, not this time.

“I’ll help you find one. We’ll do research and look up quality professionals for you. This time you will get the help you need!”

“But…”

“Shh! No buts, baby. Listen, I’m happy to be your support system. If you ever hear that voice in your head or you feel like you just need to take some time away from a situation, I will be there. But, you need professional help. I know you said that I was one of your reasons for not relapsing and I would be happy to care and pamper and spoil you. But, not everything can be fixed with love.” Yoongi gestured to the scars that covered your arms. “Love can help you rebuild, form new bridges, and start wonderful possibilities, but it’s also with the help of professional and medical attention that you will truly heal as well. Okay?”

A small smile formed on your face and you nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi nodded at you, taking your hand into his. “You’re welcome. Come on. Let's finish that nap.”

“Oh, but the broken dish--”

“It can wait. I wanna hold you right now.”

You followed Yoongi back into your shared bedroom and joined him back into the soft, plushy dreamland as you both held onto each other even tighter than you had previously. In his arms. Right where you belong.

Hoseok: (Foot)

J-Hope truly is the light of your life. Even something as simple as taking a walk or cooking together, he always seemed to brighten your day. You two often did the most bonding when you two were dancing. Hoseok is the dancing machine so of course when you excitedly expressed your love for dance too he was extremely ecstatic. Like no joke you guys practiced for hours that day. J-Hope was always happy to teach you the dances of BTS music videos and you were more than happy to learn them. Not only to spend time with your precious sunshine, but to also make your friends extremely jealous when you’d dance to the group’s song with no effort.

Just like any other day, you and Hoseok were in the practice room. Take a wild guess as to why. You guys were in there for a few hours, laughing and goofing off making parody BTS dances. J-Hope really was the best dance teacher. Not only strict but seriously hilarious and fun at the same time. Just as you were about to reach down to grab your water bottle you felt a sharp pain shoot from your left ankle. The sudden wave of pain caught you off guard as you tumbled to the floor. Hoseok, hearing you fall, whipped his head around and saw your face scrunched in pain. Thinking that he pushed you too hard this time he rushed over to you scanning your body.

“Jagi! Are you okay? Where does it hurt?” he asked, anxiously holding you as if you were made of glass.

You winced as you turned your body to sit on your butt and clutched your ankle. “Nothing… it’s just my left ankle…” you hissed. You started to untie your shoelaces when Hoseok immediately stopped you.

“Your ankle? What’s wrong with your ankle? Did you hurt it or something?” he asked, slowly taking off your shoe.

“Umm… yeah. Not today, but don’t worry it’s not a big deal.”

As Hoseok went to remove your socks, he noticed a tattoo along your foot. It was in a completely different language. It was Korean and it sure wasn’t English. It was in beautiful cursive.

“You have a tattoo?”

“Oh, that? Yeah, I got that a long while ago.”

“Really? Cool! What’s it mean? Why’d you get it?” he asked, scanning the tattoo and squeezing your ankle a little tight. You let out another hiss in pain and Hoseok lessened his grip. “I’m sorry! I got too excited! Here. I’ll massage it for you.” Hoseok’s fingers gently kneading into your ankle. You sighed and relaxed against the large dance mirror.

“Thank you, Hobi. And my story behind it isn’t really interesting or long. Up until I was a teenagaer, around 17, I was in ballet and jazz classes. I was pretty good and I won some awards here and there. But my teacher was nothing like you. She was strict, rude, and mean. We’d practice from 6 am to sometimes 2 am, she’d keep on a diet that wouldn’t even be healthy for a domestic pet rabbit, and she would constantly undermine and overblow situations that were often out of my control. Like one time, she made me do the same move 21 times and call me stupid if even one thing was off.”

“Jesus. What was she, a perfectionist?”

“I guess so? But she would go beyond perfectionist sometimes. Even at competitions and dance concerts she’d make a huge fuss about the judges and would actually throw tantrums to hand pick ones herself.”

“Really? Isn’t that unethical? And unfair to the other competitors?”

“Yes, exactly! But she was known as a legend in her time. She was a goddess to a lot of her old dance students, the dance community, and was the best out there. How I even got her to begin with was nothing short of a miracle. Anyway, to make a story short, I was in a competition and I completely destroyed my ankle trying to land my final move. And you know what they say about ankles and hips. After you break them they’ll never be 100% anymore. I had to get surgery and that basically was the end of my ballet and dance career. I still have the stamina but as you saw today it still kinda hurts when I go for too long. You can actually still see my scar. Right here.”

You pointed along your ankle to where your tattoo began. Hoseok traced your finger and saw a faint scar. His face grimaced at the mere thought of you being in pain.

“I’m so sorry baby. That must’ve hurt like hell! I’ve had some injuries, but I can’t imagine breaking an ankle like that.”

“Yeah, it hurt like a bitch. My parents were furious though. When my teacher came to visit me in the hospital they screamed and scolded her in the hallway. Everyone could hear it. According to the doctor, my ankle snapped like a twig because of the diet she put me on. She assured my parents that is was safe and healthy, but the doctor described it as “idiotic” and “dangerous to my health”. He said, “Any sane person with any knowledge on dancing and nutrition would never put a young dancer on a diet like this. It’s inhumane.” After that, I never saw her again. She sent me a card written with an apology with some flowers along with the refunded money my parents asked for since I broke my ankle in the middle of the payment year and that was it. Her studio was empty and no one has seen her since.”

“You’ve never told me that story. Ballet and jazz, huh? Well, it’s true you have to be on a strict but also well-balanced diet to be a dancer in either of those fields so the fact that you broke your ankle because it must mean you were really malnourished. I’m glad your parents got you away from her. She sounds crazy.”

“Yeah, but I also thought that maybe she did those things because that’s how she was taught y’know? Like mentor, like student. She was probably badgered and criticized and put on the same diet. And since she came out a legend, she must’ve thought it would work for all her students. I guess traditional methods stick harder to you when you don’t know the modern ones. Think about how people decades ago were taught to swim. My mom told me that her grandpa took her on a fishing trip and then just threw her in the water shouting “Kick with your feet!” Nowadays, that would look so outdated and abusive if you did that to your kids now.”

Hoseok nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We can only be so lucky to be born in this time period.” Hobi looked back down at your tattoo. “So, what does it mean? Your tattoo. What language is this?”

“Oh, it says, “danse avec la vie” which means “dance with life” in French. I got this tattoo just to serve as a reminder that I shouldn’t push myself too hard and that if I’m going to dance I’m going to do it of my own volition and most importantly, I’m going to have fun with the person I’m dancing with.”

Hoseok smiled. “That’s beautiful.” he whispered, gingerly kissing your lips. “So, do you think you can put any weight on your ankle or do you need help getting up?”

You rubbed your ankle with a smile. “It’s still kind of tender and sore, but don’t worry I’ll be fine. When I get home I’ll just have to rest and pace myself. This happens from time to time so I’m pretty used to it.”

Hoseok didn’t seem satisfied with your answer and didn’t like that you were so quick to walk on an already damaged ankle. He doesn’t care if this happened years ago or just a few minutes ago. It was his duty as your boyfriend to help you in situations like these. So, he turned around and shot you a cheeky grin.

“Hop on.” he said, patting his back.

You snorted. “You must be joking. I know I said I was on that diet when I was a teenager but there is no way I’m light enough for piggyback rides.”

“Whaaaaaat? You barely weigh anything! And even if you did I’d always carry you no matter what! Plus, I’ve been working out.” he exclaimed, puffing his chest and flexing his arms. “Come on! Let me take care of you.”

You giggled and felt your face flush. “Oh alright! It’s not everyday that the J-Hope offers you a piggyback ride. I’m sure your fans would kill to be in my position right now.” You leaned against Hoseok and wrapped your legs around his waist as he lifted you up with no problems.

“See?! You’re not heavy! Watch this!”

Hoseok took off into a sprint with you bouncing on his back. He let out a squeal trying to contain your giggles as you wrapped your legs and arms around him tighter.

“Hobiiiii!! Slow down!! We’re gonna fall!”

Sounds of laughter can be heard from both of you as Hoseok continued to sprint out his studio and outside. Everything you did with Hoseok always turned out to be a hilarious ride. He always seemed to know how to put a smile on your face!

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