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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

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mong

mong [m·oŋ] vtr. depend on, rely on, trust for protection

Anonymous Request: I was wondering if you could do a Neteyam x f reader who grew up with/around the Sullys and Jake and Neteyam are protective of her. And then one day she walks into their tent or a gathering and just rushes into Neteyams arms and clings to him they are all worried. Neteyam comforts her and holds her while Jake tries to solve the problem?

1,551 words

My mother's grip on my upper arm was so tight that I knew it would leave bruises.

"You will do this," she hissed in my ear. "There is no other choice. Don't be foolish."

With much effort, I pulled my arm from her grasp and stumbled back, staring at her, horrified.

Before anyone else could speak, I ran.

"Was Y/N hunting today?" Jake Sully asked his eldest son as he and his family sat around a small fire, finishing up cleaning and drying their kills from the day.

"Yes," Neteyam replied.

Jake nodded, wiping off his knife. "You should have gone with her."

Neteyam sighed. He knew his father worried about Y/N, a girl - now woman - his age, and everyone knew why, but no one really said it.

Her parents were... unkind, and that was putting it lightly. He didn't think they'd ever put a hand on her, but even for Na'vi, they were harsh and unforgiving, and not for the sake of raising her right and keeping her safe in a dangerous world.

Just for the sake of being harsh. They didn't seem to like their own daughter very much, which confused the Sullys. She was kind, soft spoken, intelligent, and always supportive to her loved ones. There wasn't anything not to like about her.

Jake had watched her grow up, from a distance at first, and then encouraged his children to be friends with her. She'd latched to them immediately, and eventually to him and his wife as well, becoming almost a part of the family.

It seemed to be getting worse lately, and anytime she wasn't with the Sully family, the worry was there at the back of Jake's mind. He supposed he was really starting to think of her as a third daughter, and having her away from him for long periods of time caused him some anxiety.

He knew his oldest son felt a similar worry for the girl, but for entirely different reasons.

As if summoned by the mention of her name, Y/N burst through the door, causing every Sully head to turn her way. She breezed past everyone and threw herself right into Neteyam's arms, crying loudly, which was very uncharacteristic for her.

Jake jumped up immediately, and Neytiri ran to Neteyam's side, placing her hand on Y/N's back as she sobbed.

"What have they done now?" Jake huffed under his breath, wondering what kind of laws were in place that would allow him to punish her parents for the way they treated this poor, sad girl.

"What is it, child?" Neytiri asked, but Y/N was too upset to speak. Her breaths were coming in shallow gasps, and Neteyam looked to his mother and then his father with wide, panicked eyes.

Kiri joined the three of them on the floor, placing a hand on Y/N's back right next to her mothers. The two women in unison closed their eyes and began taking in deep breaths, low and slow, in and out.

It took a while, but Neteyam felt Y/N doing the same as she clung to him.

"There you go," Neteyam whispered, stroking her hair as she breathed. He had never seen Y/N so much as frown, none the less cry. No matter what she was put through, her dispositioned always remained sunny and calm. Something terrible must have happened.

"Tell us what happened," Neytiri said, and Y/N finally sat up, but Neteyam would not let her out of his arms. She had to turn, settling in his lap, with his arms crossed over her chest.

Even though I knew the Sullys had noticed that my parents were different, I had never spoken of it to them. What was the point? I could not change who my parents were. I could only keep my head down, be respectful, and hope to escape when I was older.

And now, I had been offered and escape, and I would rather die than accept it.

"They have... they are forcing me to mate with Marek," I said finally, and Neteyam's arms over my chest tightened, pulling my back into his chest, as Kiri gasped.

I cast my eyes downward, embarrassed at my outburst, and at burdening their family with this - but I didn't know where else to go.

"Marek is awful," Kiri whispered. "He's mean, and cruel, and he's..."

"Just like my father," I whispered, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes again. I looked up to Jake, the man I'd always wished had truly been my father, and the expression on his face was dark and malicious.

"This will not happen. Neteyam, with me, now."

Neteyam frowned, holding me tightly to him, but his father demanded he join him a second time, and they left without so much as a word.

Neytiri and Kiri held me tightly as Lo'ak and Tuk stood nearby, and I wished for the millionth time that I had been born into this family instead.

Netyeam and his father returned almost an hour later, very quiet, somewhat relieved and mostly nervous.

When they entered, Neytiri was braiding Y/N's hair while Kiri and Tuk sang softly by the fire. Lo'ak sat nearby, looking oddly out of place.

"Okay, well," Jake said as he entered, spreading his arms to the side. "I think we should give Neteyam and Y/N a little space to talk."

Y/N furrowed her brown. Netytiri squeezed her should and Kiri patted her on the knee before the entire Sully family, minus Neteyam, rose to leave.

Jake approached before he left, and put a hand on her shoulder. "We would never let anyone hurt you, Y/N, and we did what we thought was best to protect you... but nothing is set in stone. You get to decide your path."

Y/N tilted her head to the side, extremely confused and in the dark, but Jake left, leaving just Y/N and Neteyam there.

"Neteyam, tell me what's going on!" she said, and the two of them quickly approached each other, meeting in the middle of the tent.

"My dad and I, we went to speak to your parents and..." Neteyam cleared his throat. "On the way there, I told my father the truth, Y/N. I told him that there were many reasons I want you away from Marek, and your parents. I want you to be safe, and loved, and treated the way you deserve. And I want all this because I... I have been in love with you for a very long time."

Y/N was quiet before him, her face nearly expressionless, extremely hard to read, so Neteyam pressed on.

"We spoke to your parents and we made them an offer. I asked them for your hand. I asked their permission to be your mate."

Remaining stoic, Y/N's expression did not change. Neteyam reached out, taking her hands into his.

"If this is not what you want, you only have to tell me, and we will find a safe place for you. You will have the protection of your Olo'eyktan. Of my family."

Y/N opened her mouth, and then shut it again, and to his great horror, she was crying once more. Soft, quiet tears rolled from her eyes and down her cheeks.

He was prepared to tell her again, she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do, when she took her hands from his, put them on either side of his face, and pulled his lips to hers.

I was frozen as Neteyam spoke. Not only had he saved me from my parents and from Marek, but he had somehow granted me the deepest desire of my heart? A hope that I had never spoken to a single soul?

For years, I had harbored a love for Neteyam, that only grew as we spent more time together.

He was standing before me now, offering me everything I'd ever wanted, and making it clear for the first time in my life, that I had complete control over my own destiny.

Overtaken by relief, gratitude and joy, all I could do was pull him to me in a long overdue kiss.

When I pulled away, Neteyam wiped the tears from my eyes.

"Is that... a yes?" he asked, and I had to laugh.

"Of course it is. And, Neteyam, please know this is not just to escape. I have loved you for a long time. We could have both saved each other some anguish by just admitting that a while ago."

Neteyam pulled me in for a tight hug, and I reveled in how completely safe I felt in his arms. I reveled in the joy of finally becoming a Sully. I reveled in the delight of never having to see my parents again if I didn't want to.

Soon, the tent was full of Neteyam's family once more, cheering, and crying a little, and celebrating.

Jake was the first to pull me into a hug, and he whispered in my ear. "I always knew you were meant to be my daughter, one way or another."

We smiled at each other, and the feeling of calm and safety grew, settling over all of us - and it would never disappear again.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar twow #Jake sully

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seonghwaddict · 4 months

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★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 010 ] the head and the heart.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au.

chapter warnings. heavy angst, blood drinking, student/teacher relationship (not pedophilia), gore, blood, murder, manipulation, very intense heartbreak, knives, strangulation, mention of metaphorical suicide. word count. 3.6k rating. mature for violence.

　　　　　　　　chapter ix // chapter v // chapter xi

choi san had always been a loving soul.

growing up in a loving and caring family, he had been taught how to give and receive affection well. always caring for his friends and family, willing to do anything to make them happy. he was quick to forgive and forget, quick to assume the best of everyone’s intentions. to put it quite plainly, for many years of his life, he only saw the best in people.

but being so loving had its consequences.

he fell in love too quickly.

at the age of 18, he was sat in his literature class in high school. the teacher hadn’t showed up yet, the students scattered around the class and chatting idly. his seat was by the window, on the third row. the weather was nice, sunny with a cool breeze. he remembered this day vividly.

he remembered this day so vividly because it was the day he met jang sooyeon.

though, at first he knew her as ms jang for she walked in with the principle, introducing herself as their new teacher. absently, he noted she was very pretty, and awfully young to be a teacher. as she walked between the desks to hand out worksheets, his gaze was drawn to a dainty, silver anklet.

it all started slowly; lingering looks and touches that rested on his shoulder for a beat too long. ms jang somehow always found him when he was alone. sometimes she’d offer a book recommendation in the library, other times she’d ask him to stay behind after class for a little chat. one day he walked in with a black notebook, poems and prose scribbled inside. noticing the little book, she asked to take a look inside. but he refused; looking at his writings felt like looking into the deepest corners of his mind, little scraps of his soul etched on the paper with his crappy ball-point pen.

but, somehow, at some point, she ended up inside it, nose practically pressed to the ink as she made sense of the inner workings of his brain. though the compliments were nice, he didn’t think too much of them. but looking back, he should have known better.

over time, her little actions and words had his heart swelling with an all-too-familiar feeling. he found himself seeking her out and soon enough, they met up outside of class, outside of school. first under the excuse of san needing tutoring (a pathetic excuse as his writings exceeded the skills of many), but soon he found himself spending time with her outside of school just because he wanted to. making excuses in the first place was stupid, everyone around them knew there was something going on.

he let her in, he cared for her and let her care for him, showing her parts of himself no one else had seen before. for that year, all his thoughts were occupied by her. his love for her grew incessantly, in ways one could almost call obsessive. he wrote about her in his notebook, learned how to bake so he could make her her favourite treats. he showed her his sanctuary, a little clearing tucked away in a forest of his hometown.

he remembered laying on the grass beside her, staring up at the clouds swirling high above. they talked but he couldn’t remember about what. when you were with a loved one the subject of conversations mattered little compared to being in their presence. he remembered her sitting up, twisting herself to look down at him with a soft smile.

looking back at that moment, he realised her smiles never quite reached her eyes.

still, he was so infatuated with her that he couldn’t see beyond rose tinted glasses.

time seemed to slow and he felt their surrounding fade away as he looked into her eyes, realising she was slowly leaning closer. hands clenching with anticipation, he hitched himself up on his elbows. but before he could kiss her a small reflection glinted in the sunlight and his eyes were drawn down to her ankle. the silver anklet glittering in the light, taunting him.

he knew it was a bad idea. he knew he shouldn’t have said anything. but he still looked up at her and quietly asked her to take off the anklet. when she asked why, that should’ve prompted him to come up with some stupid excuse.

but he loved her. he loved her so much that his heart betrayed his safety, previously unspoken secrets tumbling from his lips as he told her about his true identity. without hesitation, he admitted what he was. a bloodsucking vampire.

at first she didn’t believe him or, more accurately, she made him think she didn’t believe him. but his face stayed serious as his eyes begged to be believed, so she tossed the anklet in a seemingly random direction. and they kissed and they kissed and they loved and they held each other until the sun bade them farewell and plunged bellowed the horizon. when they got up to part ways, he missed the sinister grin on her face as she retrieved her anklet.

and she knew she caught him in her trap.

jang sooyeon was many things. calculative, determined, possibly a bit sadistic. but a fool was not one of them. from the moment she had set eyes on choi san, she knew she found what she was looking for in that school. every progression, every action, in their relationship had been carefully planned out to get her to where she was now—her back to his chest as he leaned against a tree stump in their little hideout.

she rested her head against the left side of his chest, just over his heart, staring ahead at the blades of grass and fallen leaves that danced in the autumn wind. a silence settled over them before she whispered a questions.

“sannie… would you do anything for me?”

“yes, of course. why do you ask?”

“but how far are you willing to go?”

he should’ve listened to his brain, the warning signals blaring at her words. but his heart—oh, his naïve, foolish, utterly hypnotised heart—begged and screamed for him to draw her closer.

“i’d do anything for you.”

“if someone bothered me, would you… would you kill them for me?”

he paused at that, glancing down at her. an almost hesitant “yes, anything for you, my love,” falling from his pursed lips.

all things considered, he should’ve seen it all coming. everything after that conversation felt like a blur up until his next memory. it was the first time he killed someone.

she had told him this man had been bothering her, insisting to spend a night with him despite her saying she was already seeing someone. though he was slightly irked by the smile that threatened to force itself onto her features as he agreed to take care of the man, he was more focused on the fact that another man dared to even look at her with such little respect.

so, after some digging, he found himself trailing behind the same man on a dark street. hood up, eyes fixated on him, making sure not to alert him. san’s eyes briefly moved to the entrance of an upcoming alley, deciding that would be the perfect opportunity.

ten minutes later, he walked out the other side of the alley. the corpse of the man left leaning against one of the cold walls, smothered to death.

had there been any reason that didn’t involve her, he may have felt some remorse. but he was convinced what he was doing was right, keeping her safe from this potentially dangerous man.

and then she let him drink her blood.

when she offered it, he was surprised and declined, telling her that he never expected anything in return for what he had done. but she insisted, pulling up her sleeve and baring her wrist. what more suitable way to pay a vampire than in blood?

when the first drop of her blood entered his mouth, he knew he wouldn’t be able to enjoy bagged blood ever again.

after that it became a cycle. he’d get rid of someone for her and then he’d go back to her apartment and she’d let him suck a few drops of blood from her. his once pure heart was slowly stained by something darker, despite how justified he was made to believe his actions were. he lost count of how many people he went after, but he knew it was slowly driving him to insanity. and even though she convinced him he was in the right for killing those people, his heart kept him awake most nights with those dark memories.

and choi san always listened to his heart.

he doesn’t remember when he brought his concerns up to sooyeon, but he remembers they were somewhere dark. it may have been during the period where he refused to go home. he had brought her to his house for dinner and as soon as she left, his parents wouldn’t stop giving him warnings and telling them that they sensed something dark in her. this led to an argument, ending with him slamming the front door and avoiding them for a month to move in with the love of his life.

he should’ve listened to them.

the tv illuminated the the room as he sat on the couch. he heard her footsteps before she emerged from the narrow hallway of the one bedroom apartment. a towel was wrapped around her hair and her fresh clothes clung to her body in areas that hadn’t been dried properly. he looked at her, trying not to get distracted by the way she sat beside him and pressed herself into his hold. he inched away so he could see her better, the changing light of the television illuminating her wonderful features.

“listen, i… i wanna ask you something…”

“is there something wrong, sannie?”

he paused for a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“don’t you think all the killing is unnecessary? i mean, you know i love you… i don’t want to have to do all this just to prove that.”

“oh, but, sannie… these are people that deserve it, they’ve hurt me. would you really want someone to hurt me and get away with it?”

“no! no, of course not. that’s not what i meant. it’s just- it’s too much for me. we love each other, don’t we? we shouldn’t worry about what anyone else does. people bother me, too, but i don’t ask you to kill them.”

“you think that? you think we love each other?”

“well, yes…”

a sharp feeling of dread tugged at his intestine.

“i don’t love you, san. you’re a monster. how could i ever love someone like you?”

she said more, but he didn’t hear any of it. he could feel every fibre of his soul being torn apart; could feel his ribcage being ripped open to reveal that naïve, foolish and utterly hypnotised heart of his. a sharp pain in his chest had him tearing up as if she’d dug a knife into his heart and twisted it in his chest. but he knew she was right. he was a monster and it was a fitting punishment for such a monster.

to want someone so much—to have them in your grasp—and knowing they will never love you the way you love them.

the days after that melted together into a dull pile of memories. he returned home but didn’t tell anyone what had happened, locking himself in his bedroom and skipping meals. he sat on his bed and cried and cried and cried and cried until he could no longer feel anything. his heart had nearly gone numb and he came to the realisation that he would’ve much preferred it if she wrapped a silver chain around his neck and strangled the life out of him.

one time he found himself staring into the mirror, terrified at the person she had turned him into. every time he looked at himself, the same words repeated in his head. monster, monster, monster, you fucking murderer. and he knew it was true. he stared at his reflection, wondering if he had changed enough to turn into a new person, enough for it to be considered some kind of suicide of his persona.

he hated himself. he should’ve listened to everyone, he should’ve listened to his brain. not his no-good, useless heart. if it could even be called that anymore.

when the urge to drink blood lured him out of his bedroom, he found himself in the kitchen opening a bag of a-positive. the familiar liquid slipped down his throat and his hunger was satiated, but not for long.

that night they found out about the blood intolerance, sat in a vampiric doctor’s office after he collapsed and was rushed to the clinic. he thought he was dying, barely hanging onto conscience as his father picked up his limp body from the kitchen floor and placed him in the car. he woke up on one of those hospital beds, his parents, older sister, and his doctor standing around him. the doctor explained that if vampires only drank one blood type for many months, in rare cases it could lead to the body being unable to process all the other types.

something clicked inside his mind. she had killed him. killed his heart, killed his body, killed his soul. she was a murderer, too. he was merely just a shell of who he used to be. the scraps left of his heart and soul screamed for revenge. he had already killed so many people, this was just one more. maybe when she was finally gone, he’d be able to live life normally.

he thought it was odd, really. just a week before he loved her more than anything in the universe, and then he was creeping through her hallways with a knife clutched in his hand. a violent end to his devotion.

the floorboards of the hallway creaked as he crept his way to her bedroom. with a random kitchen knife gripped so tightly in his hands his knuckles turned white, his breathing went shallow. he revised his plan over and over and over again, replaying it in his head like a broken record. nothing could go wrong in the next few minutes, he couldn’t afford any mistake no matter how small. a droplet of sweat melted its way down his forehead and got caught on his brow, he wiped it away with the back of his hand and finally stopped in front of the door, open just a crack.

suddenly, he felt as if his throat closed up; one of the telltale signs of his body’s reluctance to commit this heinous crime. he should be used to it by now, but somehow it felt different when it was the woman he imagined a future with. he swallowed repeatedly, praying the dry tightness of his throat would be eased by his saliva. it took him several more minutes to muster up the courage and wrap his hand around the metal doorknob, pushing the door in as slowly as he possibly could and wincing quietly when the hinges whined

she seemed to be fast asleep, light snores resounding through the spacious bedroom. much like how he revised his plan repeatedly in his head, so did his head telling him to stop. he let his disparity take over as he silently shut the door behind him and walked to the bed like a predator stalking his prey. as his gaze settled on her, a fleeting sense of remorse could’ve swept through him had he been able to see her face, peaceful in her slumber. but, alas, there was nothing to be seen except a silhouette dimly lit by the moonlight beyond the windows.

she didn’t make as single sound as the first stab went straight to the base of her neck, blood pooling around the knife as he sliced through the throat. not a single sound gave away the fact that she was now dead.

he pulled out the knife, the blade suddenly feeling so much heavier in his hold as crimson liquid dripped from the metal and stained anything it landed on. the faint smell of iron wafted into his nose and shot straight to his brain, unleashing some kind of primal urge to continue stabbing at the body despite knowing she was dead. he sunk the knife into any part he could reach—her arms, chest, stomach, shoulders.

once his mind cleared and his rationality returned to him, all he could see was dark splatters surrounding him, staining the bed, her body and his own hands. bile rose to his throat but he swallowed down the bitter taste quickly, stumbling back and dropping the dagger, the ringing of the metal crashing against the wooden floor resonating through his ears. tears pricked at his eyes as he gasped for air. the squelching of the blade as he sank it into her flesh would forever haunt him, echoing through the corridors of his scarred mind.

as he looked away from his bloodstained hands and at her body, he found her head slumped in his direction, lifeless eyes lit by the moon staring right at him. san whipped his body around; he couldn’t stand looking at her any longer. the regret crashed over him like a wave, leaving an icy trail of what-ifs. what if she had been awake? would he have still gone through with it? and yet, as he thought through all the possibilities, he couldn’t help but feel a slight weight lifted off his shoulder.

he made quick work of getting rude of the corpse. wrapping a sheet around her and carrying her out of the building. it was just past midnight, not a chance anyone would be awake. he ducked into an alley and rolled her out of the sheet, placing her in the shadows where she wouldn’t be found. even if she did, it would just look like some angry drunk had done it. those cases were often dismissed by the police. he returned to her apartment and changed the bedsheets.

when the news of her death got out, his family moved away so he could finish the last two months of high school away from the pitiful and prying eyes of his classmates. he hated the way they looked at him when he walked in the halls. he wanted to scream at them.

stop looking at me like that!

like i’m a fucking tragedy.

stop it.

stop fucking looking at me.

after all of those events. he was sure life would never return to his numb limbs. until he met jung wooyoung and kang yeosang in his first year of university. he had pushed them away at first, but upon finding out they had something in common, he accepted their friendship.

with their friendship came five others; kim hongjoong, park seonghwa, jeong yunho, song mingi, choi jongho. they proved him wrong, he could feel alive again. at least with them. it was a rather quick bond, considering themselves a little clan. but as much as he adored them, he knew he would never love some like he had loved sooyeon ever again.

until he was proven wrong yet again. from the moment he met you, he came to the conclusion that there was a reason that old saying—never say never—came to be. don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t love at first sight. but he felt something, a warmth in his heart that he hadn’t felt in years.

he wanted you for his own safekeeping. he wanted your hair to slip through his fingers. he wanted that voice of yours to whisper in his ear, under the bluish moon. he wanted you to rip out his heart and carry it with you in a little box under lock and key.

and as he looked at you now, sitting on the couch with wooyoung and yunho as you laughed and squealed as you played some game with them on the tv, he wondered. he wondered if you’d hold his tainted fingers and kiss his lips. he wondered if you’d love him and his scars and his sickening skin. if you’d love his weak heart and guilty soul. would you love a monster?

when you left, he felt his insides light on fire as you pressed a fluttering kiss to his cheek when you passed him in the kitchen, when no one was looking. since that night in your bedroom, he knew he was doomed.

seonghwa joined him in the kitchen to wash the dishes. san but his bottom lip, trying to desperately swallow down a question that lingered on his mind for weeks.

“you want to say something,” seonghwa spoke over his shoulder, a smile evident in his voice, “say it, sannie.”

“do you…” he sighed and leaned against the counter. “will we ever tell her?”

god, he wanted to know how you’d react. would you embrace them and tell them it’s okay? he wanted to be loved by you so badly his hands trembled.

the question made seonghwa pause, glancing at him and turning off the sink. he took his time drying his hands, eyes turned to the ground. he sighed, walking over to san and placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“she’s special, and i think she’ll come to know about us. but we can’t risk rushing anything. all in due time, san, all in due time.”

with one more squeeze, he dropped his hand and left the kitchen.

[ lilo’s notes ] i apologise for what i have written, though i do hope you all enjoyed it. i also apologise for the long wait, but i really wanted to write something of high quality for my dear readers!! happy new year, please take care of yourselves well <;33

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byuljoonie · 6 months

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Cherry Airhead // pjm

You want a piece?

pairing: Jimin × fem!reader

genre: smut, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, unedited so beware

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smut, unsafe sẽx, dirty talk, pet names, c0čk worship, spit play, fuckboy!Jimin, pj bottoms…, oral, (he’s big), dom!jimin x sub!reader, rough jimin, eavesdropping Jimin

note: I put a little too much effort into the plot so the smut isn’t exactly how I want it…hope you still enjoy it 🕴🏾reader request coming next

“Jimin! Someone’s at the door for you!” you yelled unenthusiastically. Waiting for the long haired man to emerge from his room.

“Are you his…girlfriend?” The unknown woman questioned sourly, looking you up and down in disgust.

“No, I’m his roommate. But we fuck sometimes,” you say seriously, letting your ego take over and guide the conversation. If she was going to be rude so were you.

You watched the color drain from her skin, looking like a deer in oncoming headlights.

“Coming!” Jimin bursts from his room with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water still dripping from his freshly showered hair onto his exposed chest.

“Who’s her-“ he said out of breath, stopping when you moved over to reveal the guest.

“What are you doing here, Hyejin?” He said coldly, standing unimpressed in the living room.

“When did you get a girlfriend, Jimin?” She asked looking between you and Jimin.

“Girlfriend?” He questioned confused. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you burst into a small fit of laughter. Jimin leaning against the couch, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Okay I lied, but I just think you shouldn’t be a bitch to other people in their own home.” You confessed with a shrug, walking past Jimin with a pat on his shoulder.

You entered your room not interested in the argument Jimin was about to have with another one of his obsessed conquests.

After 10 minutes of muffled yelling and the slam of a door, a knock rang through your apartment. Jimin was at your bedroom door.

“Open the door, Sunny.” He said voice rumbling from the other side of the door.

“Oh, now I’m your sunshine. What about her?” You asked playfully, opening the door for him.

“Don’t start. Did she say anything to you?” He asked concernedly, searching your face for answers.

“I’m fine, Park. You should pick nicer fuck buddies though.” You say nonchalantly walking back over to your bed.

Jimin trailed closely behind you, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him. You squeaked in surprise, holding onto Jimin’s arm.

“What was that, sunshine?” He questioned deeply. “I don’t think I heard you clearly.” Your heart began to race and you quickly removed your hand from his bicep.

“Nothing.” You murmur looking down at the space between the two of you.

He placed his hand under your chin, gently making you look at him. He cocked an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Hmm, well go get the popcorn ready. I’ll get dressed so we can start our movie night.” He said sweetly, flashing you a gummy smile before poking his tongue out at you.

“Did you eat another cherry airhead in the shower? Your tongue is bright red!” You exclaimed slapping his bare chest. He recoiled in pain, a faux pout now on his lips.

“Hey, I blame you for putting a candy bowl in my room,” he said shrugging his shoulders. “You want a piece?” He questioned teasingly, walking to leave your room.

“Oh! Let’s wear the Pajamas you bought us yesterday. I think it’d be cute.” Jimin said down the hall, not listening for your rebuttal.

After changing into your plaid Pajama shorts and one of Jimin’s shirts, you walked out to the living room to prepare the movie.

“We’re watching horror movies right, Minie?” You yelled while bending over to check the dvd player.

“What did you say, hon- woah.” Jimin said, stopping in his tracks.

His eyes fell directly on your ass, the bulge in his pants growing slightly.

“What? I said we’re watching horror movies right?” You asked obliviously. Squatting down to grab a handful of dvds from under the TV console.

Jimin clears his throat eyes still unmoving. He walked further into the living room, plopping on the couch behind you.

“I’ll take your silence and heavy breathing as a yes. Anyways the pizza should be here soon.” You said standing up to turn around.

You were met with the sight of your best friend shirtless and slightly sweaty on your shared couch. Your eyes widened at the sight, heat invading your cheeks.

Maybe you did have a small crush on Jimin, but how could you not when he looks like a walking art piece?

“I-I’m hungry,” you stuttered out shyly. Trying not to stare at Jimin’s lap.

“Me too,” Jimin smirked running his eyes over your body unapologetically. Meeting your gaze with hungry eyes.

“I’m gonna get some water. I’ll be right back,” you said trying to scurry away to the kitchen.

Miscalculating your step, you tripped and landed in Jimin’s lap with a huff. Bracing your hands on his shoulders unconsciously.

“Oh my god I’m sorry—“ you cried out trying to stand up quickly. Jimin grabbed your waist, pulling you back down onto his lap.

“Jimin, what are you doing?” You asked breathlessly. Going to stand up a second time, only to fail against his strong grip.

“Sit down.” He demanded intensely.

You didn’t move another inch, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“You know, you look very cute in these shorts.” He said moving a hand to play with the hem of your pants.

“I’ll go get you some water, Sunny.” He placed his hands on your waist and gently moved you to the next cushion.

“Thank you,” you muttered quietly, eyes darting from the floor to the print in Jimin’s pants. He noticed immediately, smiling as he brought you a glass of water.

“So what movie are we watching?” He asked casually, sitting on the cushion closest to you. You told him about the movie, stumbling over some parts as your mind was elsewhere.

Shortly after the movie started, you guys ate dinner and trash talked your way through the cliché horror tropes.

The next movie was frightening, sending you flying into Jimin’s lap after the 4th jump scare in a row. He happily held onto your hips, glancing down at you every so often.

You felt something hard against your ass, and shifted uncomfortably in response.

“Hey, stop moving Y/N.” Jimin grunted trying to hold you still.

“I feel something hard, it’s uncomfortable Jimin.” You complained, frustrated and grinding down harder.

The next noise you heard made you freeze. A growl? Did he just growl?

“If you would stop moving so much I wouldn’t be hard, Sunshine.” He stated dryly, “well seeing you in those shorts is also the reason.”

“JIMIN-“ you yelped embarrassed. Hiding your face in his chest immediately. He placed a finger under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“You think I don’t know, Y/N. Hmm?” He crooned, looking down into your eyes, his infamous smirk still glued on his lips. The movie suddenly forgotten.

“I’ve seen where your attention has been tonight,” he said cockily. “You don’t think I’ve noticed your eyes on my lap practically the entire movie?”

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am, baby.” He smiled sinisterly, making your mouth water in fright. The nickname igniting something fiery inside you.

“I hear all those pretty noises you make almost every night. Just begging for me to come ruin you.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Park.” You lied defensively, swatting Jimin’s hand away from your face. The memories of your perverted activities flashing through your mind.

“I’m not one of your toys, Jimin. I won’t fall at your feet.” You stated stubbornly, still sitting in his lap.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. I’ll make you scream louder than any toy could.” He said grabbing your face roughly. Smiling at the whimper that barely escaped your throat.

“You’re special, darling. Someone made just for me,” he said trailing soft kisses down your jaw to your neck.

“I’ve been longing to taste you, sweetheart. Be a good girl and tell the truth.”

Your breathing had become erratic, Jimin’s feather light lips sending your mind into a frenzy. How could you give in so easily?

You melted into his touch, moaning when he left a particularly prominent love bite on your collarbone.

“Mine” he said, kissing his way up your neck, to your cheek, until he finally met your lips.

Your lips molded perfectly together, Jimin grabbed your waist pulling you closer in his lap. You both pulled apart to catch your breath, a light sheen of sweat coating your foreheads.

“See? I’ve barely done anything Sunny, but I can feel your crying pussy through your shorts.” He groaned, reaching down to grab the hem of your pants.

“I want you to use your words now, pretty girl,” he said running his hands beneath your shorts. He stopped just before he reached your pussy.

“If you want me here,” he tapped two fingers over your clothed clit. “You’ll have to get on your knees and beg,” he deadpanned, kissing the tip of your nose.

You nodded in response, pealing yourself away from him. You climbed to the floor, getting on your knees in front of him.

“Please Jimin,” you began softly, doe eyes trained on his.

“You can do better than that, Sunshine.” He interjected, palming himself through his pants. Your eyes widened at the sight, mouth watering for him.

“Been needing your dick for so long,” you continued nervously. “Want the real thing,” you beg pathetically, crawling forward and placing your hands on his thighs.

He pulled his pants down his legs, trailing his underwear right behind them. You watched his cock spring free, the mushroom tip leaving a sticky trial of pre-cum on his happy trail.

“You want my dick, Sunny? Hmm?” He cooed mockingly, watching you shift cutely in front of him.

He grabbed your face roughly with one hand, craning your neck to look at him. “Open,” he demanded calmly.

He squeezed your cheeks forcing your mouth open. Spitting into it as if he owned you. “Now swallow.”

He smiled happily at you, enjoying the control he had over your actions. “You can taste it, baby.” He said releasing your face with a quick kiss to your nose.

You pushed up on your knees, reaching forward to finally come in contact with his member. Your hand was too small to fit the whole thing.

You wrapped both hands around it, letting out a shaky breath before taking him into your mouth.

“It’s s-so big,” you mewled, hands sticky and furiously moving up and down his shaft. He groaned at your words, loving the attention.

“Tastes so good,” you said before engulfing him again. The sound of him fucking your throat filling the living room.

“Shit—you’re so good at sucking my dick Y/N.” Jimin said moaning at the sight of your bobbing head. “Don’t wanna cum yet, hold on Sunny,” he grunted. You removed your head in frustration, missing the taste of him on your tongue.

He reached down to pull you back into his lap, planting a kiss on your lips. “Good job, princess.”

“Strip for me, Y/N.” Jimin demanded tugging on the waistband of your shorts.

You shakily stood up from his lap, quickly removing the plaid shorts for him. Gripping your forearm nervously as Jimin inspected every inch of your exposed skin.

“You look delicious, Sunny.” He said lazily stroking his cock, eyes still focused on your body.

He motioned for you to lay on the couch, sitting back to give you more room. You did as you were told, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as he towered over you.

“I’m gonna fuck you in these, so precious.” He whispered hotly in your ear, toying with your panties. Sliding then to the side, he began rubbing small circles across your clit.

Hushing you after a string of moans escaped your lips. “This my shirt?” He questioned, running his other hand under the soft fabric. His hand gliding across your skin effortlessly, like he already knew the map of your soul.

You nodded, feeling his hair brush against your cheek at the motion. He hummed in delight, grabbing your breast and squeezing.

You felt the tip of his cock graze against your clit, making you to shudder under him. He started to grind against you, sending waves of shock running through your body.

“Mmfp—can’t take it anymore, need you” Jimin flexed his hips forward, groaning as your pussy engulfed him.

You whimpered at the stretch, tears clouding your vision at the feeling. You wrapped your arms around his neck loving the way he grunts in your ear.

“So soft and hot, Sunny. Could fuck you all day.” He said pulling out slightly. Rocking forward before he could miss the contact of your skin.

“Please fill me up, Jimin.” You begged into his neck, “don’t wanna be empty.”

He chuckled at your words, his smile quickly being replaced with an “O,” expression. You clenched around him again, relishing in the whimper he released.

He swallowed another whimper, rhythmically slapping his hips against yours. He placed a hand on your lower stomach, pressing down for your reaction.

A symphony of moans rang through your living room. The obscene squelching and slapping sounds drawing you closer to your orgasm. You felt your stomach bulge with every thrust, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Gonna paint your pretty tummy with my cum, baby.” He placed a hand over your head to brace himself. Slamming back into you aggressively.

You screamed in pleasure, clawing at his back in desperation. You felt your orgasm wash over you. Jimin not easing his movements.

“Fuck—so good for me,” he grunted. “Love watching your pretty face, Y/N.”

You blushed in response, mind and body still reeling from Jimin’s touch. You felt his thrusts become sloppy, a guttural growl coming from his lips as he slipped from inside of you.

He eagerly squeezed his cock, stroking it rapidly as he watched your ruined body underneath him. His eyes closed momentarily, his hips stuttering as he came on your stomach.

Your chests heaved with heavy breathing, Jimin grabbing a towel from the kitchen to clean you up.

“Round 2 in the shower?”

The end.

(Sorry it was short, just supposed to be a quick smut.) (There will be a pt.2)

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lizordula · 6 months

Text

Marg My Words

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Summary: A musical mishap on the car ride home gives Melissa an idea.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, implied sexual content

Word Count: ~2.1k

A/N: Inspired by the song One Margarita by That Chick Angel ^^

AO3 Link

Pt. 2

It's the end of the school week, a chilly yet sunny afternoon in the early Philadelphia spring. In the teacher's parking lot, you're surveying the bustling crowd of staff members and students filtering out of Abbott as you lean against the hood of your Fiat 500. When you spot your two favorite senior colleagues you perk up and wave to call attention to yourself. It doesn't take long before Melissa and Barbara notice and approach you hastily, both dying to clock into their weekend time after a long day of work.

"Shall we?" Barb asks, shooting you a smile as she directly beelines for the passenger seat, much to Melissa's chagrin, who hasn't had any luck so far at calling dibs on the front seat.

You push yourself from the hood and pat Melissa's leather-clad arm in sympathy. "You can sit there next time," you assure her and remove your sunglasses to hook them in your neckline. You smirk when it takes Melissa a notable effort to tear her gaze away from your chest.

"You say that every time," she retorts, rolling her eyes, but she slides into the middle of the back seat anyway.

Melissa, Barb, and you decided to start carpooling three weeks ago since you all live in the same part of Philly. The idea came from a plan Jacob had introduced to make Abbott more environmentally friendly, which was met with broad, nearly unanimous approval by the staff. You had to give it to him. Of the many ideas swirling around in his curly head, this one is actually decent.

And you're not just saying that because that was the reason why you fell into Melissa Schemmenti's bed.

A few days into carpooling, Melissa invited you in for a nightcap to commemorate the success of A.V.A festival and the collected signatures for the petition against Legendary Charter Schools. It was just the two of you since Barb had been picked up by Gerald that day. Things led to another, and ever since, your carsharing arrangement turned into a carsharing arrangement with benefits, strictly for blowing off steam after work.

Nobody knows so far, not even Barb, and you want to keep it that way.

After you've plopped down in the driver's seat and checked if everybody fastened their seatbelts, you start the car engine. Unfortunately, you forgot to turn off the Bluetooth on your phone after you listened to music on your wireless headphones in the teacher's lounge and don't notice how your phone instantly connects to your car speakers, continuing where you left off in your playlist.

You freeze when the chorus of a very explicit song starts blaring through the car.

Give me one margarita, I'ma open my legs.

Your eyes widen in realization, and you whip around to Barb, watching her face drop as she processes the song's lyrics.

"Oh shit, uh...," you trail off and rip your phone from the charging cable, frantically typing in your phone's password. Your cheeks heat up in nervousness when it declines.

One time.

Give me two margaritas, I'ma give you some head.

Two times.

Give me three margaritas, I'ma put it in my puss.

Why the fuck isn't face recognition working?

Give me four margaritas, I'ma put it in my tush.

You anxiously glance at Barb, just in time to see her splutter indignantly at the last line and clutch her chest in horror. Meanwhile, in the backseat, Melissa cackles at your misfortune, holding her middle from laughing too hard.

"Oh god, this is gold," the redhead wheezes and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. Her face almost matches the color of her hair from the exertion.

You scowl at her before nervously looking back to Barb, who is still listening to the song, staring straight ahead, frozen in speechless terror. After snapping out of your horrified state, you do what you should have done in the first place, had your brain thought of the obvious: turn down the volume control.

What follows is an uncomfortable silence. Barb is looking straight ahead, as are you, eyes wide with mortification, both of you dead set on avoiding eye contact. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves before clearing your throat.

"Sorry about that," you say with a strained, tight-lipped smile and make sure to flip the switch to the radio before turning the volume up again.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, save for the classic rock music playing in the background. Barb seems to have already gotten over the shock of your music taste as she is tapping her fingers on her thigh and bobbing her head to some song by Elton John. You, however, are still very much embarrassed by what happened.

It doesn't help that Melissa is making heart eyes at you through the rearview mirror.

Her mind undoubtedly went straight to the gutter. Whenever you lock eyes with her, she has a suggestive smirk painted on her face, secretly taunting you for your song choice. Your gaze frequently darts to her spread legs, and you can tell she notices by the way she subtly increases the angle each time. You glare at her in warning, not wanting to engage in any flirting while Barb is still in the car with you, but Melissa only raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Determined to avoid further embarrassment, you grip the wheel harder, your knuckles slowly turning white, and try to focus on the road. Fortunately, it doesn't take long before you arrive at Barb's house. You park on the side of the curb and switch off the ignition, turning to the kindergarten teacher with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry again for earlier."

"Mh-hm," Barb hums gruffly, but you can tell from the way her lips curl upward that she sees the situation in good humor. "Have a nice weekend," she sing-songs, swinging the door shut. You wave after her with a smile and click the doors shut before Melissa can switch to the passenger seat.

"No front seat privileges for you," you quip and start the engine again, smirking when Melissa rattles the door handle with a dramatic groan.

"You brought that upon yourself," she grumbles and sinks back further in her seat with crossed arms. You smile when you look at her through the rearview mirror and see the endearing pout on her face. The passenger seat is your only leverage against her, and you will exert it whenever you can, especially since she rarely lets you be in charge elsewhere.

Five minutes later, you pull into Melissa's driveway. You unlock the doors and lower your window, watching the redhead round the car and stop at the driver's side. Your eyes flicker to her cleavage when she leans down to rest her arms on the window ledge.

"I think I have everything for a Margharita inside," Melissa tells you in a husky voice and nods toward her house. Your eyes darken at the implication, and you give Melissa a slow once-over, letting your gaze intentionally linger on her lips, before you give her an answer.

"Alright, Schemmenti, lead the way," you drawl and turn off your engine to follow her inside.

As soon as the door is closed, Melissa pushes you up against it. She wastes no time sliding the lapel of your jeans jacket to the side to kiss the junction between your throat and your neck, working her way up to your lips. You hum and close your eyes at the sensation but escape her grasp before she can claim your lips.

She wouldn't get you to bed this easy after that little stunt in the car.

"You promised me margaritas," you respond matter-of-factly as you push past a stunned Melissa. You walk into her kitchen with a self-satisfied smirk, and she trails right behind you, her eyes twinkling in a sly way that tells you that the game is on.

Melissa saunters past you to her liquor cabinet, resting her tongue on the tip of her canine as she sizes you up, and pulls out a bottle of Tequila. Then, she retrieves some lime juice and triple prosecco from the fridge, placing everything in a neat line on the kitchen island next to two glasses. You watch as she pours the drinks in a practiced and elegant manner, captivated by the movements of her hands, before she hands you one of the glasses.

You clink your glasses and take a sip from your drinks. Melissa observes your reaction with rapt attention, awaiting your verdict on her mixology skills. Her pupils dilate when you don't set your glass down and down the whole drink without breaking eye contact. You place the glass back on the counter and lick your lips in contemplation.

"Hm, not bad, but...," you trail off, pleased by the way Melissa's eyes darken at the perceived criticism, "there was no salt rim. Unfortunately, I have to deduct points for presentation."

Melissa eyes you up and down, calculating her next move as she empties her own drink. You suppress the shiver creeping up your spine when you see the wicked glint in her eyes, familiar from whenever you would rile her up or be bratty on purpose.

You are so done for.

Melissa walks to another cabinet and fetches the salt, putting it on the counter before you. She pours you another drink and comes to a halt next to you, pressing the margarita into your hand. You watch intently as she shrugs off her leather jacket and leans back against the counter, inadvertently pushing her chest out.

"Well, help yourself."

Your mouth falls open slightly when you realize what Melissa wants you to do, your face heating up to an unbearable degree. You inch closer until your hips press against hers and grab the salt from the counter. Skipping over her lips entirely, you bow down to her neck and attach your lips to the soft skin there, sucking hard. You smirk against Melissa's skin when you hear her breathing falter and lick a broad stripe over the dip above her collarbone.

When you draw back, Melissa's pupils are completely blown, the green of her irises almost entirely consumed by black. Melissa tries to follow you, but you push her back with your pointer finger, your gaze dropping to her heaving chest when she settles back against the counter. You sprinkle some salt onto the hollow of her throat and take the margarita, taking a sip before descending to Melissa's throat once more.

Melissa throws her head back and moans lowly when your tongue connects with her throat again and starts to lap up all the salt from her skin. You slowly inch your way toward her jaw, making sure to leave marks along the way, and claim her lips with your own at last. Not a second later, Melissa's hands grab your hips to swivel you around, making you gasp into the kiss as your back hits the kitchen island.

You should have known that Melissa would only let you be in charge that long. But you don't complain when she starts unbuckling your pants and pulls them down to your ankles before hoisting you up on the kitchen island. The last thing you see before you throw your head back is her smirk as she descends between your spread legs.

It seems you proved the song right.

━━━

When you recover from your orgasm, Melissa lazily kisses her way up to your throat and lays her head on your chest. "Maybe this convinces you to let me sit in the passenger seat the next time," she mumbles against your skin and places a soft kiss on the swell of your breast. You absentmindedly play with her hair while you catch your breath.

"After today, I'm not sure I could behave. Besides," you say, lifting Melissa's chin with your pointer finger so she locks eyes with you again, "I have a much better seat for you."

Melissa snorts when you quirk your eyebrow suggestively and detangles from your grasp. She holds out a hand to assist you down from the kitchen island, and you slide straight into her arms, taking your time to kiss her sweetly and languidly before you pull away.

"I mean my face," you hurriedly add, although no clarification was necessary. Melissa chuckles in reply and starts tugging you toward her bedroom.

"Yeah, I figured."

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader

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just-come-baek · 2 years

Text

under the rose

Pairing: Joshua Hong x female!reader

Themes: 18+ smut | fluff | childhood frenemies to lovers!au | kinda historical!au (no specific time, but it’s not modern, like idk maybe 1950?)

Word count: 6k

Summary: You’ve known Joshua your entire life, and it has always irked you when he got praised for the same things you were scolded for. You hate these societal double standards thrown upon you almost as much as people who judge you for it. Thankfully, you have Joshua, who just gets you.

in other words...

They fuck on the blanket by the lake.

A/N idk what got into me

Although summer was officially gone, Mother Nature still spoilt people with sunny days and warm nights. Plants and trees all over the area were still in full bloom, letting the locals and tourists admire the beautiful landscapes.

The windows of your bedroom were facing the east. The bright rays of sunshine woke you up as soon as the sun rose over the crown of trees. With a smile, you stretched your limbs, happy to start your day.

Quickly, you opened the window, letting fresh air into your bedroom.

Enjoying the slight breeze, you walked over to your massive closet. You had no plans for today, nor you knew what to wear to celebrate this beautiful day. Too bad you weren’t allowed to leave the house in your satin sleeping gown. It was the most comfortable thing you owned. You didn’t give a fuck that men could find it scandalous or indecent.

You were always told not to provoke men as if it was your fault they couldn’t control themselves. It was incorrect reasoning, but for your mother’s sake, you decided not to speak your mind as openly as your heart desired. After all, these men weren’t ready to hear what the root of the problem was.

You tapped your chin in thought as you skimmed through your outfit choices, ultimately deciding to put on a cute summer dress that should appease your conservative mother. It was an A-frame white dress with little yellow flowers embroiled into the fabric. (Your mother insisted they were yellow roses, but to you, they looked more like daffodils.) It had cute tulip sleeves and a bodice – it didn’t offer a lot of support for your breasts, but at least it covered your nipples and fooled your mother into thinking you were wearing a bra underneath it. Carefully, you did the half-shank buttons that trailed up your sternum and tied a golden ribbon around your waist to accentuate your figure.

You looked like a prude, but despite all of that, you felt pretty.

Maybe a little bit of blush and lipstick could spice up your cute but upright look, you wondered as you rummaged through the drawer of your vanity. As it was officially autumn, so you decided to go with an orange palette, trying to match shades with your complexion.

Admittedly, it added a sexy edge to your overall look. Now, you only hoped your mother wouldn’t tell you to wash it off as it was inappropriate for such a virtuous young lady she thought you were.

You didn’t put much effort into your hair; you brushed out all of the tangles and put on a headband. That was it. The wind would ruin your hair anyway if you tried properly styling it.

“Good morning,” you said to your mother as you walked downstairs for breakfast. She was drinking her morning tea as she glanced at you, trying to find flaws in your appearance and expurgate them.

When she didn’t say anything to put you down, you figured you passed her censorship test today. Good, because you didn’t even try to anger her, you just wanted to enjoy yourself outside.

“Good morning, honey,” she said as you sat down by the table opposite of her. Smiling, you reached for the bread and spread raspberry jam over it. “Joshua came by earlier. He’s such a nice boy. He asked you to meet him by the lake. Of course, I said you’d join him,” she announced, and you nearly dropped your knife upon hearing his name.

Joshua Hong was your mother’s best friend’s son, and your mom sometimes (always) acted as if she loved him more than she did you. Whenever you had guests over, she would go out of her way to brief them on his whereabouts and eulogize him at every given chance.

Joshua always accompanies his mother to church. Joshua graduated at the top of his class. Joshua rescued a dozen of puppies from drowning.

You were sick and tired of her Joshua this, Joshua that. If only she knew what he was like when mothers couldn’t see him... You were basically the same age, so you hung out with him quite often throughout your childhood and adolescence. Although unwillingly, you knew him inside out, and he most definitely did not fit your mother’s description.

“Thank you,” you finally said, offering her an unconvincing smile. “I’m dying to see him. It’s been too long,” you added, your voice full of sarcasm (which your mother thankfully did not pick up on). Smiling, you stuffed your mouth with the toast as you wanted to be done with breakfast quickly. You could only stop yourself from giving mean comments for just a while, and you didn’t want to upset your mother with your point of view on Joshua’s behavior.

“It’s nice to see you so eager to see him,” she beamed, incorrectly reading your intentions.

“Right…” you said, pouring juice down your throat. “I should get going. It would be rude of me to keep him waiting,” you added with a fake smile spread across your face. Your mother must’ve found your considering tone a bit strange, but she ultimately decided to believe that you grew up.

“Joshua is such a gentleman. There are so few of them nowadays,” she carried on, and you rolled your eyes at her comment. Your mother could read people like a book, and you still didn’t know how Joshua managed to fool her.

Having sat on the bottom of the stairs, you put on your shoes, carefully tying the shoelaces.

“Wear the nice ones,” your mother commented as she picked up your everyday muddy shoe and threw them back onto the shoe rack. You didn’t want to argue with her, so you listened to her, knowing your feet were going to hate you in the evening. Maybe the pumps were pretty, but it wasn’t the footwear of your choice. It was impractical. Joshua was waiting for you by the lake. That’s about thirty minutes away on foot from your house.

“I shall be back for dinner,” you said, even though you were going to return much sooner. Even if Joshua wanted to see you and talk to you, it was one-sided. You’d just go there and tell him to go home and stop bothering you.

You loved being outside. As soon as you set foot on the porch, rays of sunshine hit your face, making you smile in content. Despite Joshua’s short visit and request, it was going to be a beautiful day.

Slowly, you strolled towards the lake, humming to yourself as you mentally tried to plan the rest of the day. You could pick some flowers for the vase that was sitting on your nightstand as the old bouquet of white camellias started to wither. Then, maybe you could go to the swing set and watch the sunset.

It sounded like a good idea.

You felt pain in your heels. Cursing under your breath, you hoped you didn’t get blisters.

Finally, you reached the lake. Joshua was waiting for you by the pier, holding a paddle. As much as you hated to admit it, he looked hot in his white shirt. Three top buttons were undone, showing a lot of his neck, collarbones and chest, while his sleeves were rolled up all the way to his elbows. His light brown trousers, black shoes, and matching suspenders looked great on him.

“Took you long enough, love,” Joshua greeted you, sending you a bright, genuine smile. “Don’t you look beautiful today,” he added, carefully studying you from head to toe. His sight was definitely better than your mother’s – Joshua instantly picked up on the absence of your bra, what made him shamelessly smirk.

“What do you want, Jisoo?” You asked, cocking up your eyebrow. You hated when he referred to you per love, so you also decided to rile him up by using his Korean name. You were the only one who had the balls to call him that – ever since childhood he hated it when people did that. “Your early visit got my mom unreasonably excited. I wouldn’t be too surprised if she already started planning our wedding,” you deadpanned.

“You should be happy. I’m quite a catch,” Joshua replied, smugly smiling at you.

“Ew,” you commented, turning your face in disgust. “You better talk to my mother and undo it. I wouldn’t marry you even if you were the last man on Earth,” you demanded, hating the way Joshua’s insignificant actions had huge impact on your life. You weren’t going to suffer the consequences of his shenanigans.

Instead of giving you a reply, Joshua sighed and shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side.

“I meant no harm. I just wanted to ask you to come here and boat with me,” Joshua said, pointing at the small wooden boat tied to the post on the pier. “We used to do it a lot when we were children.”

You hummed, reminiscing. It really was your tradition. Every summer you could come here and have a lot of fun. Usually, one of you ended up in water, almost drowning. (Nine out of ten times it was you, since Joshua was a sore loser and didn’t know how to treat you like a lady.)

“Fine, but if you try to push me into water, I’m dragging you down with me,” you warned him before you marched past him in a straight lane to the pier.

“Ladies first,” Joshua replied with a wide grin as he tried to catch up with you.

Carefully, you got on the boat and took a seat at the front. You figured if it was Joshua’s idea, he would sit at the back and do all the paddling. After all, you were a lady, and everyone would frown upon seeing you do such a manly labor…

Smiling at you, Joshua rowed the boat to the middle of the lake.

When he had his mouth shut, it was rather peaceful. You could feel the sun and wind on your cheeks as you close your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the last bits of warm weather. The sound of water and faint chips of birds echoed in your ears. Admittedly, the little boat trip felt nice – until Joshua decided to interrupt the soothing silence with his annoying voice.

“Why do you hate me so much? Is it something I have done?” Joshua asked as he tossed the paddles to the side beside your legs.

“I just do,” you replied, having no intention to elaborate. It’s just the way you felt – you didn’t owe him any explanation. Joshua needed to understand it and leave you alone.

“We both know it’s not true,” Joshua egged you on, and you rolled your eyes, regretting meeting him today. Too bad Joshua began that topic only when you were stranded on a boat with him in the middle of the lake.

Maybe it was a lie, but you were never going to admit it. You didn’t hate him – you hated that he got praised and applauded for things you always ended up getting reprimanded for. No matter what you did – you were always judged and put down. And if Joshua did it – he was a noble gentleman.

“Come on, love,” he urged you, nudging your knee with his. “Talk to me. Let me fix everything.”

Although you knew he meant no harm, his words riled you up even more.

“That’s the problem,” you sighed, looking away. “I don’t want you to do anything. Even if you tried, you would make everything worse,” you concluded, realizing no matter how charming Joshua could get, he had no power to solve the societal problems you often fell victim to.

You remembered the one time you went hunting with Joshua and Jeonghan. At first, your mom hated the idea, but Joshua somehow convinced her it was safe for you to accompany them. Needless to say, you shot down three pheasants while Joshua and Jeonghan none. You had no experience, yet you turned out to be better than them.

However, the real cherry on top was when you returned come for supper. Your and Joshua’s moms were ecstatic when you brought so much food home. Unfortunately, happiness turned into disappointment when you told her it was you who had hunted them. That night, not only you got scolded for engaging in a typically male activity, but also for disobeying Joshua.

Just the thought about that day made your blood boil in your veins.

Joshua seemed concerned. Whatever made you feel that way, he wanted to change it.

“Is it about Sooyoung? I’ve already told you that I don’t like her like that,” Joshua wondered out loud, even though he suspected his guess was incorrect.

“What? No! It’s not about her,” you confirmed, your voice getting louder. “I never understood you. Sooyoung is literally perfect. Every man wants to marry her,” you started, but Joshua quickly interjected you.

“I don’t,” he admitted with no hesitation in his tone. “Even if she’s perfect, she’s not you.”

Joshua’s words made you gasp in shock.

“What? Did you want me to come here to mess with me?” You asked as you stood up to lean in and flick his forehead. You were somewhat friends – such love confessions were way out of line!

“Of course not,” Joshua quickly reassured you as he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from inflicting any pain. (You have flicked Joshua’s forehead so many times throughout your friendship his skull was impenetrable at this point.) “I mean it. I love you as a friend and as a woman. Can’t you see it?” Joshua asked, staring into your soul. His lips were twisted into a genuine smile as he waited for your reaction.

Joshua Hong loved you.

His confession left you speechless. There were some signs along the way, but you decided to ignore them. It was easier that way. Even if you cared about Joshua as much as he cared about you, you still couldn’t marry him.

Everybody always told you it’s a wife’s duty to submit to her husband, yet you adamantly refused to give into that mindset. Since early childhood you were taught how to serve a man, and you hated every second of it.

If anyone ever gave you a chance, you could prove you were equal, or better than a man. Too bad no one ever treated you seriously.

Despite your feelings for Joshua, you had to reject him. As long as society considered women as lesser than men, you had no interest in marriage.

“Do you have feelings for me, too? Or am I an idiot?” Joshua continued as he pulled your wrists down gently, so you’d lean forward a bit. You were bent in an uncomfortable position as you stared into Joshua’s eyes, wondering how to phrase your rejection.

“That’s not important,” you said, and Joshua frowned, not liking the tone you set for the conversation.

“Of course, it’s important! That’s literally the only thing that matters,” Joshua argued, massaging your wrists with his thumb, hoping his gentle moves could soothe you.

“I can’t be with you. You deserve much, much more.”

“I don’t want more. I want you.”

“I can’t,” you said, your voice breaking.

“Why?”

You dreaded that question. Joshua wouldn’t understand. He’s a man, and you doubted he could see the issue from your point of view. Fuck, even your female friends didn’t get your reasoning.

“I hate it. I hate all of it,” you confessed, letting your bottled up frustrations out. “I hate the idea of marriage. I hate taking orders from people. I hate being judged for everything I do. I hate being perceived as less worthy. I’d rather become a spinster than marry. You have to understand it.”

Joshua knew you better than anyone, and he completely understood where you were coming from. He could see the despair in your eyes whenever someone made an unfair comparison to you. He could see the change in your mood when someone suggested you shouldn’t do something.

“I should be offended. I had no idea you think so lowly of me,” Joshua spoke up, his eyes avoiding you as he tried to properly word the rest of his speech. “I know you. I know you hate these things. I’d never treat you like that. I love you the way you are. You’re stubborn, independent, and fierce. There’s not a single thing I’d change about you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I want you to challenge me. I want you to correct me when I’m wrong. I want you by my side wherever I go. I’ve always treated you as equal, marriage won’t change it,” Joshua said, pressing a chaste kiss against your knuckles.

His affectionate gesture shocked you. Instinctively, you yanked your hands out of his grasp and took a step back. Unfortunately, you failed to coordinate your swift movements. Due to a sudden change of weight, the boat wobbled to the sides, making you lose your footing.

You put your hands in the air, trying to find your balance, but when Joshua stood up to steady you, you tipped off the edge and fell into the cold water with a shriek.

After a few seconds, you resurfaced and coughed out water that accidentally got into your mouth and nose.

“Hong Jisoo! I hate you,” you yelled, kicking your feet in a feeble attempt to stay on the surface. Although you knew how to swim, the cold water seemed to slow down your reflexes.

“Here,” Joshua shouted as he stretched his arm, hovering over the edge to hoist you up. “Grab my hand,” he ordered, laughing at you.

“I’m going to murder you someday, Jisoo,” you warned him as you grabbed his hand and pulled him into water with you. “Maybe sooner than later,” you added when Joshua swam up to the surface and shook his head to the side, trying to get his wet hair out of his eyes.

“You little–

Joshua tried to catch you and make you regret, but you were a faster swimmer.

“Come back here,” he shouted after you, but you just laughed as you tried to distance yourself from his wrath. “I’m not kidding,” he carried on, sending a plethora of threats your way. You, on the other hand, were ignoring him as one of your legs was already hooked over the boat’s edge.

Giggling at Joshua’s antics, you waited for him to swim closer to the boat before you helped him out.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Joshua muttered, giving up the stink eye. “Let’s get back to the shore. I left there some towels and blankets.”

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean? I’ve known you my entire life. Every time we’re here someone ends up in the water,” Joshua concluded as he sat up and put the paddles in the hooks.

“Let me help you,” you said as you sat down beside him, yanking one paddle out of his grip. You weren’t a damsel in distress – you could prove yourself useful. Besides, you needed something to keep you warm, and paddling seemed a perfect solution to your problem.

“Your mother would kill me if she knew I let you do that,” Joshua commented as the both of you put your muscles to a good use. Quickly, you paddled to the short in great synchronization.

“You better get used to it because I intent to live my life how I want it,” you replied, laughing. “Besides, she loves you. If she had to kill any of us, it would be me.”

“Hopefully, we’ll never find out.”

As soon as Joshua tied the boat to the post, you ran uphill where he left the picnic basket under an old oak tree. Initially, he thought it would be nice to enjoy a meal after the boat ride.

Quickly, you wrapped a towel around your frame, trying to dry yourself.

“Come here,” Joshua said as he tossed his towel on your head, aggressively drying your hair.

“Stop it,” you hollered as you rolled your towel and smacked Joshua’s butt with it.

“Truce. Truce. Truce,” Joshua shouted, trying to block your attacks. “Are you still cold?” Joshua asked, staring at you fondly. You nodded, and Joshua wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug before he began rubbing your limbs, hoping friction could help you warm up.

“I hate you,” you muttered as Joshua pulled you against his chest and kissed the top of your head.

“Good girls don’t lie,” Joshua pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at his comment.

“Have I ever been good?”

“Fair enough,” Joshua chuckled, tightening his grip around your frame. “But you don’t hate me. In fact, I think you love me.”

“Thinking has never been your strong suit,” you teased, poking his chest with your forefinger.

“Doesn’t matter because you still love me,” Joshua proudly remarked, ignoring your jab.

“Jisoo–” you started, but you choked on your breath when Joshua’s hand slapped your butt. It took you by surprise – you didn’t expect Joshua to do that as well as you didn’t imagine you’d like the stinging sensation. “But you’re right. I love you, Jisoo,” you added, earning another spank on the other butt cheek. This time, Joshua applied a little bit more strength, making you stumble forward and press against his crotch.

“Hopefully, after we get married, you’ll call me by my name,” Joshua said with a sigh. Gently, he massaged your butt, holding you in your place, so you could rub yourself against his cock.

“You can try and make me,” you carelessly answered, adjusting the wet collar of his shirt. “Joshua. Joshua. Josh. Shua. Joshie,” you tried different variants, but there was something lacking in the way it rolled of your tongue. No matter how many times Joshua tried to correct you, he’d always be Jisoo to you. “See? It sounds weird. I don’t like it.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Joshua winked at you, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Are you hungry? I’ve brought some sandwiches,” he asked, pointing his head at the basket.

“Not really,” you admitted, giggling under your breath. You had a lot of fun and all the happy hormones that were cursing through your veins made you forget about hunger. Though you you’d never admit it out loud, you’d rather cuddle and kiss him.

Smiling at each other like idiots, you sat down on the blanket. Joshua had his back pressed against the tree, while you sneaked your way onto his laps.

“We’re gonna be in so much trouble if someone catches us,” Joshua commented as he looked around, hoping to not see any prying eyes.

“Worried about your gentleman reputation?” You teased as you squirmed on his laps, pressing yourself against his crotch again. Getting caught with you must’ve excited him, and you could feel the hard evidence trapped in his pants.

“Not one bit,” Joshua admitted, smirking at you. “You’re here with me, so I don’t mind.”

“Good to know,” you innocently replied, batting your eyelashes at him. “So… I’m guessing you wouldn’t mind if I did that,” you carried on as you lowered your hand and cupped his erection, stroking it gently through the fabric.

“I’ve been dreaming about it for years, love. I’m shameless, and I don’t care,” Joshua confessed, and you shied away by his straight-forward statement. “I want you to touch it and do much, much more,” he added as he placed his hand over yours to help you properly feel all of it.

“You’re a devil, Hong Jisoo,” you concluded as you leaned in, letting your breath tickle his full lips. You were maybe an inch away, waiting for him to close the distance and finally kiss you.

Staring into your eyes, Joshua cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you gently. His soft nibbles were driving you insane. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage quickly as you shut your eyes close and kissed him back, letting yourself get lost in delight.

Joshua put his hand in your hair, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, pushing your lips apart with his tongue, making you moan into his mouth. For him, it was the most sinful sound he had ever heard, and it instantly made his blood rush down to his throbbing cock.

Suddenly, Joshua flipped you both, so you were lying flat on your back on the blanket with him on top of you, trailing wet kisses down your neck, careful not to leave any marks. If your mother found them, she would kill the both of you despite your honest intentions.

“I will never get enough of you,” Joshua muttered as his mouth slowly moved towards your cleavage. “I still can’t believe your mother let you leave the house without a bra. What was she thinking?” He carried on as he glanced at your breasts, your nipples peeking through the soaked fabric.

“Can we stop talking about her? I’m sick and tired of that woman,” you snapped, feeling angry. She was your mother, but she didn’t even try to understand you. The only she could do was to punish you for your disobedience. Thankfully, you’d move out soon, giving her enough space to reflect.

“Sorry, I was just –

“It’s okay,” you smiled as you ran your hands across his chest and wrapped your legs around him. Smirking, you pushed Joshua to the side and climbed on top of him. Joshua knew you were feisty, but he never expected you to try to dominate him. Now, when he was under you, he didn’t mind you taking the lead. Admittedly, you were incredibly sexing doing so.

Staring down at him, you slowly undid the buttons of your bodice, letting your breasts fall out of it due to the lack of support. Joshua’s eyes were on you, biting his lips as he watched you in admiration.

“Every inch of you is just… breathtaking,” Joshua confessed, shamelessly staring at your breasts. They slightly bounced whenever you inhaled and exhaled, but when you grabbed and kneaded them in front of his face, he almost came in his pants. You were astoundingly erotic, and Joshua had to fight his inner urges to remain in his place.

When Joshua’s brain malfunctioned at the sight of your bare breasts, you roamed your hands across his chest and shoulders, undoing the buttons of his shirt and pushing his suspenders off his shoulders. Who knew it was that easy to shut him up and keep him busy.

Taking your sweet time, you peppered his chest with delicate kisses while your hands disappeared under the hem of his trousers. Joshua hissed the moment your hand grabbed his erection and gave it a few cautious pumps, spreading the precum across all of it.

“Do you like it when I touch you like that?” You asked, smirking at him.

“More than you can imagine,” he admitted, gently thrusting his hips upwards, needing more attention than you were currently giving him. Dreams and sexual frustration that he had accumulated through the years were making him act desperate.

“Then pull your pants down, okay?” You asked him, and Joshua eagerly raised his hips and freed his hard cock. “You’re so big,” you admitted with a gulp, wondering if he was going to fit.

“Don’t worry, love,” Joshua smiled, reassuring his dick wouldn’t break you in half no matter how hard he was to fuck you. “I’ll prepare you for it,” he added before his hand slipped under your dress. Carefully, his fingers pulled your panties to the side, allowing him access to your clit.

“Oh my,” you whispered, tilting your head to the back when you felt a pulse of electricity run through you thanks to Joshua’s fingers. The pads of his digits gently rubbed your clit and smeared your juices across your folds. “Please,” you moaned as Joshua pushed one of his fingers inside of you, curling it.

Your breaths were uneven, your back was arched as Joshua scissored you. In no time, his entire hand was drenched in your dripping essence, and it required Joshua to flick his long fingers inside of you a few times.

“Jisoo,” you breathed out, ready to welcome the pleasure that was building up in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s not what you should call me, love,” Joshua spoke, pulling his fingers away, leaving you frustrated. “Come on, it’s not that difficult,” he urged you, hoping you’d cave. After all, he wanted to finish the job and see you come on his fingers. “You can do it.”

“I seriously hate you right now, Hong Jisoo,” you stubbornly said to which Joshua decided to raise his knees, making you stumble forward against his chest. Thanks to your quick reflexes, you didn’t hit you face against Joshua’s chest.

“Do you want me to get mad?”

“Depends,” you stated with a giggle. “Do we still make love if you’re mad?”

“You’re impossible,” Joshua huffed, thinking what he should do with you.

Was it even that big of a deal? Everyone called him Joshua. You weren’t everyone – you were special. And Joshua was special to you.

“Don’t be mad,” you cooed, drawing swirly shapes on his bare chest. You knew he couldn’t resist you; it was only a matter of time for him to forgive you for the relentless teasing. “Please,” you begged as you rocked your hips, rubbing your clothed sex against Joshua’s painful erection.

“I’ll let it go just this one time,” Joshua said before he harshly pulled you down to give you a rough kiss. “You’re just asking to be punished, but I’ll let it slide for now,” he added, and you trembled. His tone was stern and domineering, you had no doubts he meant what he said.

“I want you inside of me,” you confessed as grinding against him wasn’t enough.

“Take off your dress first,” Joshua ordered as he grabbed the hem, willing to help you pull it over your head. “So you can act like a good girl… you just refuse to,” Joshua concluded as he tossed your dress on the grass next to the basket.

“I’m a good girl when I want something, and right now, I want you to fuck me,” you shamelessly admitted, not even trying to sound like a lady. You were aroused, and with Joshua’s hard cock under you, you paid no mind to proper manners.

“I should’ve figured this one out,” Joshua said under his breath as he hooked his fingers under the hem of your panties and tore them apart, getting rid of the annoying fabric that was in the way. “Since you’re so eager, why don’t you fuck yourself on me, huh?”

Joshua’s sinful words rang in your ears, making you dizzy. It was an order you were more than willing to listen.

Tentatively, you wrapped your hand around Joshua’s cock and aligned it with your entrance.

“Just like that, love,” Joshua whispered, urging you to keep going.

Stress was eating you from inside. You had no experience in sex – you just heard a few detailed stories from your married friends. Sometimes it hurt. Given Joshua’s impressive size, it was going to apply lots of pain.

“Take it slow, love. You’re going to be alright,” Joshua reassured you, reading you as if you were an open book. “There’s no rush,” he added, and you nodded, cautiously rubbing the tip of his cock across your folds.

“Oh my god,” you panted as you slowly sunk on his pulsating length.

“That’s it,” Joshua cooed, trying his best not to thrust from beneath until your walls stretched around him. Your teeth were clenched as you slowly got used to every inch of his impressive erection.

Frankly, you expected it to hurt more. You had period cramps worse than this.

“It feels nice,” you mindlessly said, feeling his cock throb inside of you.

“Only nice?” Joshua teased as he grabbed your butt and gave it a few squeezes.

“I want to ride the hell out of you,” you confessed as you started to rock your hips up and down his cock. Your rhythm was uneven, but you didn’t care. You were chasing your release, and you needed to figure out the speed and angle to make yourself come around him.

“Just like that, love. Keep going,” Joshua moaned, giving you lots of compliments to encourage you to let go and give into your primal urges. The harder you bounced on his cock, the less you could hear him say. “Fuck,” Joshua cursed as your walls began tightening around his erection as if trying to squeeze all of his release.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you groaned as the upcoming pleasure started to overwhelm you. You didn’t think you could feel this good, and your orgasm was yet to come.

“You can, and you will,” Joshua ordered as he grabbed you by your hips, holding you steady, thrusting from beneath you. You were slowly losing your stamina, and Joshua needed to help you. After all, it was your first time – it needed to be magical.

“Josh-

“That’s right, love. Come,” Joshua egged you on, smug about the slip of your tongue. You absentmindedly almost called him by his full name, and Joshua was going to remind you about all the time. (While also hoping such happy mistakes could happen more often.)

“Oh my god, Joshie, I’m coming,” you moaned at the top of your voice, knowing it was so loud people on the other side of the lake must’ve heard you. “Fuck,” you cursed as you arched your back, letting the pleasure consume you.

The way you were spasming around him pushed Joshua over the edge almost at the same time. Screaming your name, he thrust all the way in, emptying his load deep inside of you.

“I love you,” you murmured against his skin as you collapsed on his firm chest. Your mind was still a bit cloudy after reaching your peak. Gently, you drew random shapes on Joshua’s chest, trying to focus on breathing.

“I love you, too,” Joshua confessed for the nth time today, casually kissing your temple. “I could lie here all day,” he added as he pressed you closer.

“Let’s not push our luck here,” you jested as you propped on your elbow to look into his eyes. “It’s a miracle no one has caught us yet,” you carried on, looking around and hoping you and Joshua were here alone. However, you felt so blessed right now – getting caught would be definitely worth it.

“We should make ourselves look decent,” Joshua said as he sat up, pulling out his flaccid cock out of you. His release began to ooze out of you, so he scooped it with his fingers and pushed it back inside.

“Define decent,” you challenged as you reached for your dress and threw it over your head, trying to quickly cover yourself. As long as your breasts were in his line of vision, he didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Too bad you weren’t in his bedroom. He could make love to you for hours.

“Do you have any plans for the evening?” Joshua asked when he came back to his senses.

“Why?”

Joshua just couldn’t get enough of you.

“Do you want to sneak out tonight? We could hang out or something,” Joshua offered, and you smirked, a few ideas crossing your mind. “Or maybe you want me to sneak into your bedroom? That sounds just as fun.”

“Sorry, I have plans,” you deadpanned, bursting out laughing a second later after seeing Joshua’s pouty reaction. “Just kidding. Wait in front of my house at 10. My mother should be asleep by then,” you instructed him before you jumped to your feet and ran away.

“I can’t wait!” Joshua hollered, already counting time until your next meeting.

“Me, too!” You yelled as you put your hands in the air, waving at him in excitement. “Don’t be late!”

#joshua smut #seventeen smut #kvanity #joshua fluff #seventeen fluff #joshua #joshua hong #hong jisoo smut #hong jisoo

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sanjisluvbot · 1 month

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Isekai Yandere Strawhats Chapter 2

Previously| next

The days turned to weeks and weeks to months soon, that world was a thought of the past. Y/n had continued to her regular life going to school, hanging out with friends, and having her biggest worries being what time her assignments were due.

She didn’t throw away any of her old books or posters with those characters on them instead she put them in a box under her bed. Just so they were right beneath her feet if she ever wanted to return and fantasize about maybe a different time, maybe if things would’ve gone differently.

The seasons were beginning to change March would soon become April. It had only dawned on the girl today that a year had passed since she first started that journey. Sitting by the window as the birds chirped in glee, Y/n finally had some time to dive into her memory.

A year ago Y/n had just met the straw hat pirates. She appeared in their life so suddenly, and little did she know they would become so easily enamored. She laughed to herself in disbelief then rubbed her hand through her bangs, “ How could I be so stupid?” she said to herself.

Opening her curtains for the rays of the sun to wash over her reminded her of tanning with the girls on the Sunny, in the beginning, it was just so sweet, wasn’t it?

With a sigh, she got up from her bed and waltzed over to grab her remote from the desk turning on the TV hoping to drown out the memory of a certain someone. The shows were white noise as the face of Trafalgar Law was all she could focus on.

A call from her mother had made her jump and she quickly made her way out of her room. “ Yes, mother?” She said walking into the living room. Her mother smiled and handed her a letter. The envelope was black with no writing on it and the seal was yellow with a small bear on it.

Y/n bit her lip, not wanting to get too excited in front of her mother and for herself, who knows if this letter is from who she thinks it is?

She thanked her mother and quickly made her way back to her room shutting the door with her back. The pit of her stomach grew butterflies and nerves flared inside of her. She turned off her TV and sat on her bed using her thumb to unseal the envelope.

There were two letters inside marked with red and blue at the tips of the corner. Pulling the blue one out first she swiftly opened it and began reading.

Dear Y/n, I wonder what you’ve been doing all this time. I know you got back home safely, I can feel it in my bones. I debated on whether or not I should just go see you myself but I figured it was better to let you enjoy your time with your family for now.

I have been able to avoid clashing with BlackBeard thanks to you and I have been able to gather more research on this gateway between our worlds. I won’t go too in-depth in this letter but I can say that we have a lot to talk about once we meet again. After you left the strawhats also left me alone without a word or a fight. Within the next month, we will meet but it will take some effort on your part as well. Please read the next letter for additional information.

Y/n felt ecstatic, finally after months of wondering what happened to Law there was an answer, directly from him at that. She tossed the note beside her pulled out the red-tipped letter and began reading.

There were instructions and illustrations explaining how to open a gateway directly onto the polar tang where they could travel with ease. It was a method without shifting that wouldn’t be so strenuous on both parts.

At the end of the letter, there was a small warning, “ It will take time, over a month on your end to make sure that the gate is stabilized so as soon as you read this you should get started.”

With a smile on her face, she followed both letters back into the envelope and began to follow the instructions. The instructions were relatively easy but there was a reason she needed time.

Step one, keep the mirror on your door as clean as can be that will be the gate. Step two, ensure any other mirrors are not facing the gate including your television.

Step three, keep your curtains open as the sun will help charge up the portal. The other steps were simple as well, don’t keep anything plugged in at night, and keep a diet consisting of greens.

Y/n had a new pep in her step and everyone around her noticed. Y/n had smiled more often and life at home seemed like a fantasy for her parents, they never had to ask her twice to complete chores or help out with anything around the house.

The first week of April swings by and exam season is brewing up, Y/n spent time studying with her friends in the library. " Y/n me and y/f/n are going to get drinks real quick."

The girl waved her friends off too focused on her current textbook. A minute passed before she was interrupted again by a text message. Her mother was telling her she needed to pick up something for dinner, she sighed and decided to take a break from studying and possibly find a book she could take home.

Out of interest Y/n took to the supernatural fantasy section. Wondering if she could find any books relating to portals and how they work.

At the top of the shelf there was a black hardcover with the words open your mind written in script on the spine. Reaching up she grabbed it, ‘ Open Your Mind written by N.R’. The book seemed to be brand new, the pages crisp and the cover silky smooth.

Returning to her seat Y/n began to read. Her friends soon returned and hours had passed as Y/n fell into the fantasy world of N.R. The book was about a women who had a found family and was able to discover the mysteries of her world. The chills ran down her spine when she realized how similar it had been to one piece.

Although there weren’t any pirates Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling of having heard a few similar stories within her favorite series. Bitting her lip she closed the book on the third chapter, not wanting to spoon herself while with her friends.

Y/n tucked a strand of her behind her ears and told her friends she would be off as it was getting late. Waiting for the bus questions popped into her head.

There is no way one of them could be here right?

Law made sure they didn’t have a way back right?

It’s been so long since she was filled with this much anxiety. The cool spring breeze wouldn’t cool her nerves and the palms of her hands filled with sweat.

The bus finally came and she stepped on seating herself in the single seats. Her head rested on the window and she silently watched the cars zoom by leaving colorful glares.

🏷️: ( new tag list, reply to be added to next update )

A/N: Welcome back to the drama!!! I’m so excited to begin this new journey again and I am so happy everyone enjoyed the first part. I don’t currently know how long I want this part to be but I will have a schedule in my Masterlist of when I will update.

Extra: What do you think about the letter?

#one piece #yandere strawhats #isekai yandere strawhats #x black fem reader #one piece x black!reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #x black reader #isekai one piece #isekai yandere #one piece angst #trafalgar law x black reader

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my-writings-and-musings · 1 year

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We have our winner!!

Soundwave put up a pretty good fight though, Bee and Swindle also had a pretty strong showing! Thinking those three should definitely get some fics of their own too!

I went with something sort of silly because there's not nearly enough pining Megatron or Dorothy Malto content out there.

"Megs?"

For all of his boundless courage, Megatron couldn't help but feel a burst of terror when he was startled from his pleasant yet absentminded staring. Averting his optics straight away, he looked down at his side to find Dorothy Malto standing on the raised patch of land he'd chosen for a seat. Wearing casual clothes befitting of their shared day off-duty, her eyes sparkled with something more than mere enjoyment of the beautiful sunny weather. "What's got you so happy?"

Clearing his vents as casually as he could, the flustered mech tried to pretend everything was normal, thinking over his words carefully as he turned back to the scene he definitely hadn't been staring at previously. The young Terrans were all gathered behind the Malto family barn in a loose circle around the only other human present, you. Though too far away to hear what was being said, he could see you were just about done patching up the tiny cut Twitch had earned while the bots had been goofing off, and he knew from experience you were undoubtedly giving her a gentle reminder to be more careful in the future. Seeing such tender care for the little drone made a smile tug on his reluctant lips.

"It is… nice, to have another GHOST agent we can rely on." he answered diplomatically, not acknowledging the host of complex emotions that always rose up in his spark when he spoke of you.

"Mhmm." Dorothy replied with her same smile, following his gaze just as you finished up your patchwork. Twitch tested out the previously injured limb with clear delight, expressing her emphatic gratitude with a transformation and a zip about the sky that brought a chuckle from all present, including the two veterans. "Dr. Y/N is the only one I'd trust with my babies. They've kept every last visit secret, and they'll pop over no matter how small the issue is. The kids just love them."

"I can tell." he agreed with another chuckle as he watched you tenderly insist that the young Terran be mindful of her safety. He knew from experience the request would go unheeded, as young Cybertronians had the same danger defying habits as human youth, but your compassionate efforts made that complex surge of emotions in his spark rise up again. Ignoring it as usual, he tried to explain himself when he saw Dorothy had yet to drop her accursed grin. "Many humans have a… justifiable hesitation around Cybertronians, yet they treat us no differently than their human patients. I cannot begin to express my appreciation for their work."

There was a small sound from the woman he initially interpreted as a welcome dropping of the subject, but the moment his optics drifted back to you her words cut right through his defenses.

"Is that… all you appreciate about them?"

Expression briefly betraying his flustered mortification, he just managed to sound more frustrated than rattled. "What are you implying, Dorothy?"

"Oh, nothing." she replied, obviously fake indifference putting him on immediate edge. Dorothy had long since learned to read him like a book, far more intuitively than he could even read his own emotions, and he knew she was not the type to ever give up. Still, he wasn't at all prepared for her boldness when she finally spoke up, grinning from ear to ear as she did so. "Just that you've been doing a great deal of appreciating with your eyes."

Unable to stop himself from sputtering at the absolutely absurd and not at all true observation, he frantically looked your way to ensure you were still occupied with the Terrans before he replied in a forceful whisper.

"You are mistaken."

She actually laughed, looking beyond amused by the thirty foot warrior struggling with the crush he would deny under pain of literal death. Patting his side playfully, she gave him a wink that sent a blush blooming across his cheeks. "Don't worry, I won't tell."

"There's nothing to tell." he replied in a rush, looking back to you only so he could confirm you had not overhead any of their conversation. By the rare grace of the universe you obviously had not, as you were now in the middle of a very enthralled ring of Terrans and recounting stories of your more interesting assignments to keep them occupied. Once more those accursed feelings rose up in his spark, and he didn't have it in him to deny the warmth he felt every time he laid his optics on you. Seeing your tiny human form surrounded by the towering young bots that you treated with all the compassion and patience of human children simply overwhelmed his defenses.

Thankfully, Dorothy seemed to be willing to let the matter drop at that, and she offered only a playful parting tease as she turned to walk back to the house.

"Sure there's not."

He considered grumbling some kind of further denial, but didn't have it in him to be upset when you made the group laugh and did the same, your beaming smile giving him one of his own.

Dorothy pulled out her phone and turned back after only a few steps, going completely unnoticed by the lovestruck mech until she spoke up one final time.

"I can get you their number."

Megatron could have combusted on the spot, and he could only try to hide his blush behind his palm as it surged across his entire faceplate.

"Dorothy!"

#transformers #maccadam #transformers earthspark #earthspark #megatron #transformers: earthspark #tf earthspark #earthspark megatron #tfe #tfe megatron #megatron x reader #human reader #medic reader #self insert #poll fic

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your-neighbor-in-the-northblue · 7 months

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Sharing A Room With Nami And Robin

➼ Word Count » 0.5k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic

First off, you’re in luck cause instead of a dinky hammock, you’re gonna be given a nice queen-sized bed all to yourself (As you should tho??)

Every night the three of you will sit around the little table in the corner and gossip to each other. Usually, it’s just Nami spilling everything she had overheard while on the last island, but Robin has some juicy shit too, especially since she can put ears anywhere. Nothing gets past them

Newspaper dates?? Most of the others on the crew couldn’t care less, but the second the News Coo comes around with the weekly paper, you all immediately come together to read over the major world occurrences. Robin always has theories about certain topics in the news and will give you both a full analysis of why she’s right.

You’re closet is gonna be fire too. How could it not when you live with two of the best-dressed women in the world?? They’d even let you borrow their stuff, they don’t mind.

You’re given direct access to all the finances, whether that be a good thing or an awful one. You want something? Nami's giving you some extra allowance.

It’s wonderfully quiet in there most of the time and is honestly the perfect place to get things done. Reading, writing, drawing—literally anything you want to do, the girls' room is perfect.

There's probably a bowl of fruits (mostly tangerines) on the little coffee table in the room.

Sometimes, on the more casual days on the Sunny, Chopper will come in and lay on the bed with you as the four of you relax and lounge around.

You guys develop your own eye language where you can communicate through glances over the table at each other or across the hall when you hear something out of pocket.

You're gonna be forced to be a part of whatever petty theft the two conjure up. They'll sit you down, map out the plan, and boom—you're all pulling off mini heists on the pirate ships parked nearby around the island.

Flowers. Flowers everywhere, all over the room. It's quite literally the best-smelling room on the ship and Robin puts in the effort to make the bouquets look beautiful as well.

There's never a moment when the room is unorganized. Robin is really good at making sure the place is well-kept and clean at all times.

Zeus floats around the room like a cat and guards the room with his life. No one else but Chopper and whatever other girl or kid you guys have on the ship at that moment are allowed in.

Speaking of kids, Nami has little stuffed animals in one of the corners of the room for when you guys happen to have kids on board. She likes making sure they have something to distract themselves with.

Living with them is calm and playful. There's hardly ever a moment you're a part of the two and the three of you make one of the best trios out there.

#one piece #platonic one piece #one piece headcanons #nami one piece #nami op #robin one piece #robin op #nico robin one piece #nico robin op #nico robin #nami headcanons #robin headcanons #nico robin headcanons #robin op headcanons #nami op headcanons

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saltsicklover · 8 months

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Part Thirteen

This is a long chapter for this fic! It's most definitely a rollercoaster and I should probably just put a huge warning on this chapter because it's a lot! Hangman Sucks, Natasha Sucks, Bob sucks, hell even Sunny sucks towards the end. It's one giant suckfest, most definitely a whump at the end. That's to say, I'd love to know what you think about it!

ALSO This Fic has just surpassed 40k words with this chapter! Technically its over 43k but still! Thank you for reading so many of my words! I love and appreciate all of you!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6300+

Rating: R

Warnings: Tobacco, Swearing, Fighting, Blood, Crying, Anger, so so much Anger. Bob being slightly obsessed with Sunny's perfume in what could be a low key creepy way.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

The trilling of Natasha's cellphone does nothing to pull Sunny out of her dumbfounded state, her brain playing Nat's bombshell of a sentence over and over again on loop. A broken record minus the squeak of the vinyl.

"It's about time, Bagman," Natasha answers the call with a swipe of her finger, her voice carrying an aggravated tone. She tucks her phone between her shoulder and her cheek, leaving her hands free to stir her coffee.

"Phoenix," Hangman's voice comes through the phone a bit muffled, like his hand is covering his mouth, "I fucked up,"

If he fucked up, maybe he should sound a bit more remorseful, but Natasha doesn't point that fact out. It's really not important, and it's not like she plans on letting him forget about this any time soon.

"Yeah, no shit," That much is obvious to her, and finally Jake realizes it too, "Glad you finally put that together, what, twelve hours later?" Natasha does nothing to hide her annoyance. If it wasn't for Jake storming from the Hard Deck, his phone going unanswered, then Natasha and Sunny could have been out on the town by now. They would be shopping until Sunny couldn't possibly stuff anything else in her duffel. What's paying for one more checked bag, right?

"Yeah- well, I remembered when I woke up an hour ago-"

"An hour ago?! And you're just returning my call now? Jesus, Bagman, how hung over are you?" Natasha rolls her eyes, her hand coming back up to grasp her phone, though Hangman won't be able to see either action. She hopes that he will hear it in her voice- how ticked off she is becoming. If anyone could make the vocal eye roll a thing, it would be Natasha Trace.

Glancing over at Sunny, Natasha notices she still has the same bewildered expression painted on her features. She can see the gears in Sunny's head turning with the way her eyebrows are furrowed, lips pursed, the only thing missing is the steam that should be pouring out of her ears. Then, Hangman's sputtering from the other side of the phone drags her back to that conversation.

"Spit it out Hangman,"

"I came out to my truck to grab her bag and bring it into my place so it would be safe until you got here, but, Phoenix, it's not here," Seresin's almost whispering the last bit, Natasha even hits her volume button with her thumb in a failed effort to hear him better.

"What?"

Confusion. Natasha hopes she heard him wrong.

"It's not here, Phoenix. Sunny's bag, it's not in the bed of my truck. It isn't in the cab either,"

"What?"

Anger. She hadn't.

"I didn't even remember that I had it until I got my phone plugged in this morning. Damn thing has been dead all night," Jake swears to himself under his breath, feeling the tension growing over the dead space of the call.

Pinching the bridge of your nose is supposed to help stop headaches. Nat has never believed that fact, yet she pinches the bridge of her nose hard with her fingertips.

"I swear to God, Hangman, I am going to murder you if you don't find Sunny's duffle," That gets Sunny's attention, the wheels in her head slowing, expression changing, confusion visible on her face. But, as soon as she locks eyes with Nat, her eyebrows lift to her hairline in question. Natasha pulls the phone away from her ear, but makes zero to attempt to cover the microphone when she tells Sunny, "Hangman fucked up and if he doesn't fix it, I am going to kill him,"

The nod that comes from Sunny pleases Natasha, the trust the younger woman has for her is evident in her lack of concern. Hangman is almost humming through the phone, impatient. The sound of a slamming truck door accompanying the swearing he is failing to cover up.

"Fix it, Hangman," Is the last thing Natasha threatens the man with before hanging up the phone.

"What was all that about?" Sunny has laid herself back down in the sun, one arm under her head, the other coming up to shield her eyes. She still squints a bit, her whole expression wrinkling over.

Natasha notices just how relaxed she is, even with all of the bullshit that has been going on, so she takes a moment to think of her next move. Sunny wriggles a bit in her chair, watching Nat closely, waiting impatiently for an answer. So, Phoenix huffs, releasing a large breath from her lungs.

"Somewhere between last night and this morning your duffle bag disappeared from the back of Hangman's truck," Natasha tries to wave her hand as if to emphasize that this little bit of information is really no big deal. She doesn't necessarily believe this herself, but she doesn't want Sunny's trip to get any worse than it has been already. After all, this isn't exactly how Phoenix had imagined their first visit going. "He is going to find it, but until then, lets find you something to wear and we can use it as an excuse to get you a new outfit."

The wink that Natasha sends Sunny across the deck makes Sunny giggle. Though she knows she should be worried about her lost items, Sunny can't find it in her to care all that much. The biggest disappointment would be having to replace the bag itself. Everything else in that damn duffel bag could go up in cinders and there wouldn't be any big loss. After all, Sunny already abandoned the most important thing to her at Bob's feet, the night before at the Hard Deck.

"Give me a cute shirt to put on over my dress and we can go shopping, how does that sound?" Sunny shoots her friend a smile.

"Deal,"

After Sunny manages to pull her day old clothes back onto her body, fighting off the way they feel tear stained and gritty from the sand, she combs her way though Nat's closet. Her fingers wonder over the hangers, one by one. Each piece is different, but all of them soft and well loved.

"I'm surprised how many pieces ofclothing you have in here," Sunny teases, her voice light as it meets Nat's ears over the sound of running water. "So feminine, too, Nat. I thought you'd dress a little more, I don't know... President of the boy's club,"

Natasha tries to feign offense but the toothbrush that's set between her closed lips keeps her quiet.

"I mean, half of this is still uniform pieces, I know that, but still so feminine," Sunny jokes, trying to ignore the way Nat hangs her upper body out of the bathroom, narrowing her eyes at the younger woman.

"You're in a fucking dress, you yahoo," Phoenix speaks through a mouth of suds, her toothbrush in her hand.

"I know that, and I'm trying not to be," Sunny shoots back, sticking her tongue out.

"I know a few Aviators that would love to help you with that problem," Phoenix's voice sounds a little more muffled from her space in front of the sink, but definitely lacking in suds.

"Bradley would never!" The gasp is fake, but the giggling coming from both women is all too real.

"Maybe not, but I can think of one very deserving man, and one who is less so, who would both be equally thrilled."

"And who exactly is the deserving one, Nash?" Sunny inquires, yanking a t-shirt off of a hanger before tugging it over her head. She ties it in a knot at her waist, allowing the skirt to peak out below it.

Natasha is leaning out from the bathroom once more, grinning at Sunny as she fixes her clothes in the mirror. The shirt reads FORD is large blue letters across the front. It clashes a bit with Sunny's dress, but the fabric is so soft she can't help but claim it for the day. She chuckles to herself, thinking it's most definitely something Bob might have owned once upon a time, and that thought warms her a bit on the inside.

Natasha is grinning because she knows that shirt wasn't hers, once upon a time. It had been stolen from Bob one day when she came home from a night out and found it discarded on the hardwood by the front door. It was intended to be a little piece of blackmail, but this, this was better. She wants to let Sunny know that little tidbit of information, but decides to keep it to herself, enjoying the joy on her friend's face. Maybe Bob will see her in it and say something, or maybe he will enjoy getting to see her in it too.

"Behave while I am in the shower, would you?" Natasha's voice is muffled by the now closing bathroom door, the sound of water coming through the pipes erupts a moment later, giving Sunny zero time to actually form an answer. With a mumble of "not likely" to herself, Sunny runs her hand over a garment bag that's hung towards the back of the closet. After a chance look back towards the bathroom to insure the door is still shut, she pulls the zipper on the garment bag down, revealing Natasha's stark white Dress Uniform in all of it's official glory. The damn thing is almost blinding in person between the pristine fabric and the shining of the buttons.

An idea that hits Sunny almost makes her laugh out loud. With nimble fingers, Sunny pulls the entirely too white jacket off of the hanger. She pulls it on, carefully easing the stiff fabric up over her shoulders. With one gentle finger, Sunny feels the coldness of the nametag pinned to the chest.

The plate reads the wrong name, Trace, filled in with white paint.

Sunny takes in the sight of herself in the full length mirror Nat has propped up against the wall in the front of her bedroom. She attempts to ignore the tight feeling in her chest.

The bright red of Sunny's dress, and the gray shirt she had just pulled over her body a few moments before, now partially obscured by the bright uniform top. It looks funny on her, from the way her eyes look to innocent against the hardness of the uniform to the way her fingers dance along the stiffness of the fabric.

The urge to see Bob in is own uniform tangles in her chest along with the tight feeling- there is not enough space for both and she wants nothing more than to rip the fabric from her body. But, as she moves to pull it from her shoulders, she catches a glance of herself in the mirror one last time, pain in her expression, loneliness in the spaces of darkness below her eyes and suddenly, the uniform looks a little bit more correct.

---

When Bob pulls his truck into the driveway later that morning, he carefully shifts down into park, shutting off his truck with a feeling of defeat clawing at his chest. He knows he shouldn't be tiptoeing around his own home, or holding his breath over the fact that Natasha's car is still parked out front. Yet, he can't shake that feeling from his bones. Both women still have to be home, not that Bob really expected anything different. After all, Sunny'sduffle is sitting in the passenger seat of his truck and he didn't expect her to wear her day old clothes out of the house.

It's not like Bob thought she would mind, exactly. Sunny grew up on a ranch after all, and day old clothes worn in the city are still cleaner than any workwear found on a ranch. But, it's the principal. At least, that's what Bob has been telling himself.

The fact that Hangman took off with Sunny's bag last night in the first place ticked Bob off, and so Bob went over to Jake's place to get it himself. Bob told himself when he pulled into Jake's driveway that he was doing the right thing- fixing his wingman's problem. He planned to call him later and let him know that the bag had been picked it up. Jake was bound to be sleeping off some sort of monster hangover, right? And there was no selfish motivation behind it, right?

Bob lays his head against the steering wheel, forcing a couple of deep breaths into his system. It's getting increasingly more difficult to lie to himself about Sunny, now that she had walked back into his life, looking like everything he had ever wanted. Hell, she looked better, if that was even possible. She looked like his future, and up until she opened her mouth and the pieces fell into place, Bob thought he might break out his rusty moves and flirt the night away with her.

That certainly didn't happen.

Now that he has Sunny's bag, he's going to have to face her, right? After all, he can't exactly avoid her the whole time she is here, that wouldn't make him a very good host. Even if all of this history is stuck between them like some sort of unconquerable dividing force. Bob put himself in this situation, twice now. First when he abandoned her all those years ago, and again just this morning when he drove himself to Hangman's house and pilfered the bag from the back of his truck.

The urge to unzip the bag and let the smell of Sunny's perfume flood the cab of the old Ford is almost too tempting. He can smell the faintest bit of left over fragrance on the bag itself, the smell all wood smoke and cedar under the lightest brush of vanilla that seems to be fading faster than the rest. Bob can't help the way the corner of his lip curls up at the scent. Sunny has never been a flowers and sweets kind of girl, those scents all too feminine and soft for a woman like her, at least, that's how Bob saw it. Hell, the damn burnt woodsmoke smell reminds him of home and it just makes sense that Sunny would wear it.

Sunny has always been the worlds strongest girl in Bob's eyes. Maybe that's what allowed him to be so mean to her during school, and why he stood there and took her verbal beating in front of the crowd at the bar. Growing up in a Man's world, on a ranch in Florence, no doubt forced her into being strong- and if she couldn't punch her way out, she could sure as hell use her words. All Bob cared about was the fact that those words were directed at him, even if they hurt as he replays them over and over in his mind.

There's that old saying, you can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl. Bob assumes the same thing can be said about Montana. After all, Duchenne- Sunny is a Montana girl through and through and he can't separate them in his head.

Hell, even if Bob has to remind himself over and over again that Duchenne isn't the one sitting in his house, it's Sunny now, all grown up, Bob still looks at her and sees, strength, sees home. He can see the clear of the sky in the smoothness of her skin. The wind plays through her messy hair, now in metaphor but still all there, fresh and crisp, bringing goosebumps to his skin.

The damn smell of cedar and woodsmoke just completes the picture in his head; it leaves him yearning, which in a way feels just like home too.

There isn't a way he can put it off anymore without a fear that he will throw the car into reverse and not come back until dark, so Bob pulls the bag over his shoulder and heads into the house. The sound of water running through the pipes hits his ears as soon as he walks in, and a deep breath he has been holding makes its way out of his lungs.

Maybe he'll get lucky, he thinks, maybe she's in the shower and he can give the bag to Phoenix, delay talking to Sunny for another day, maybe two. Bob stalks up the stairs, the weight of Sunny's duffle threatening to collapse him at any second.

It's not the weight, not really.

It's the impending doom of it all. The bomb just a few seconds before it goes off, fragile and ticking down with each step he takes.

The floor board creak beneath him, and it's a fitting sound, really, the groaning of the house matching the aching of his bones as he fights against the gravity pulling him down; pulling him in. It's the dizzying smell of woodsmoke that is flooding his senses that really seals the deal. It is stuck in his nose, much like the scent of jet fuel used to be. A part of him hopes that it also takes weeks to fade, to become something he no longer notices, that way, he can drown it while she is here, but then it will disappear our the door with Sunny.

There is a moment where, just for a second, Bob wants to turn right around and head back out to the truck. Maybe not to leave, but to just exist in that scent for a little while longer without the fear of losing it. He hopes that it will stick around, that it will have embed itself into his upholstery.

Hell, he hopes Sunny will stick around too, but that thought is fleeting and too far fetched to entertain for more than a second. After all, what's worth sticking around Miramar for, anyway?

The flash of stark white in his peripheral stops Bob in his tracks at the top of the stairs. There are few things in this house he knows to be that color, that bright, and none of them even come close to making his blood rush through his ears like the sight before him does. Sunny stands twisting her body in the mirror in Phoenix's room, the older woman's dress uniform jacket pulled carefully over her shoulders. Bob can't help but watch her, his mouth slightly agape has he takes in her form, clad in stark white, his Ford t-shirt speaking out between the open buttons.

Suddenly, Bob is fighting against his own body to drag some sort of breath into his lungs.

There is a wave of jealousy that snakes through Bob at his core. If she's in anyone's dress whites, she should be in his. Bob knows Natasha poses no threat, and hell, he is acting like Sunny is his to protect when in reality she is almost the furthest thing from that. From him and his love and his hands. But still, there is a part of him that's thankful that the jacket is hers, if Sunny has to be in someone else's. For a moment, the thought of Sunny is Hangman's uniform flashes through the forefront of his mind, but he doesn't entertain it any longer than it takes for the anger to drift out to his fingertips.

The anger sits there, in his hands, beating under his fingernails and in the densest part of his palms. It's hot, searing, burning.

Bob is not a stranger to the feeling, to the yearning. No, it's second nature by now.

He is fighting for another breath, the ache somewhere between swallowed salt water and broken ribs.

Anger will not ruin this moment, Bob won't let it. Instead, he watches as Sunny's polished nails run over the pristine fabric, the lacquer only making the jacket look brighter. Bob takes in the subtle gleam in her eyes as she adjusts one of the cuffs. The wave of jealousy rolls through him again, this time, though, Bob wishes it was him under her well polished fingertips, so he could see the way the red of them pops out against his skin as she adjusts his cuffs.

He almost lets himself imagine it- Sunny helping him into his dress whites. Bob has been in the Navy long enough to not need help with a uniform, he can pin his own ribbon racks on and make sure his name plate is sitting straight on his chest. Bob doesn't need the help. Yet, he can almost feel the gentleness that would be Sunny's touch, buttoning up those tacky gold buttons. He swears, if he closes his eyes he can see Sunny smiling up at him, the bright white of the uniform shining in her eyes like sunlight and it would be beautiful.

And so he does. Bob closes his eyes right there, on the top landing of the staircase and lets himself imagine the way her fingers would bush over his uniform, too delicately, and how he would have to practice the upmost level of self control to keep himself from kissing all of that gentleness out of her.

He takes the image of Sunny, smiling up at him on Prom night, under the stars, and lets himself remember how she felt under his hands. How it felt to kiss her. The feelings ebb and flow through him, his imagination pulled completely out to sea. He can feel the way her rings would dig into his skin, like they had years before. That feeling has never been forgotten. He wants to know how it would feel for Sunny to run her hands down the fabric of his uniform- or how it might feel for her to unzip the impossibly long zipper of his flight suit.

Bob stops himself before his mind wanders too far- before he's unable to reign it in.

When Bob finally cracks his eyes back open, Sunny is standing there, her hands still on the crisp white fabric near the bottom of the coat, eyes meeting, gaze tangling with Bob's own. Her gaze is a bit more sad, or maybe grief stricken, but she no longer looks angry as she stares at him. His breath hitches, the strangled breath caught in the denseness of his chest, and like a deer caught in the headlights, he has nowhere to go. The only thing left for him to do is squeeze his eyes shut and wait for the impact. And yet, he can't even get himself to squeeze his fucking eyes shut. Not when Sunny's finally looking at him with such kindness in her eyes.

God, how Bob missed that look.

The way Sunny looks at him is like a rush of blood straight to his head; like turning three-sixty in the cockpit a few thousand feet in the air. But that he was trained for- this? Nothing could have prepared him for this. For the softness behind her eyes where he has only been met with sadness in meetings past. Then, Sunny quirks an awkwardly shy expression, the whole thing coming out a little bit sideways and so very guilty.

Neither of the pair is willing to speak first. Just the night before, Sunny couldn't keep her mouth shut and Bob wanted nothing more than to speak to her. He wanted to beg for her forgiveness. But now, they both stand in the cross fire of silence and desperate stares and it's not as heavy as either expected it to be.

The sick swarming feeling of anxiety is back in Bob's stomach, still raging but less sour than before.

When hasn't this girl, this woman before him, not made him anxious?

Maybe it's the softness of her eyes that quells it, or that guilty little grin that hasn't left her face even as the tinge of crushed raspberries takes over her skin. Bob tastes blood, the crimson invading his mouth from how hard he is biting his cheek.

His heart hits against the backside of his ribs, calling out to her hands once more, the feeling threatening to make him as dizzy as her perfume.

Silently, Bob slips her bag from his shoulder, taking a few steps closer to the bedroom door. He stops just outside of the jamb, still in the safety of the hallway. He brings a hand up to the jamb, leaning in just a little bit, just to get a little closer to her. Bob is chancing everything with this, as he leans, but he's do anything right in this moment if it meant he could be just that much closer with her eyes on him. Hell, he'd do anything to keep her smiling at him like that, even if it looks so damn guilty as it does nothing to cover up the sadness in her eyes.

Then, Sunny is moving towards him, still clad in that damn white coat, sad eyes, and guilty smile.

Bob's heart almost stops. The closer she gets, the more irradic it beats. He can see his Ford t-shirt under the open jacket and that's almost kills him.

But, his heart keeps beating, he keeps living, so he holds the bag out to her like a peace offering, though he could never use it as one. It dangles between them, the muscles in his arm flexing to keep the heavy duffle from meeting the floor. The look Sunny gives him almost brings him to his knees, a fit place for him to beg for forgiveness, though his tongue is dry and still in the prison of his mouth.

Then, her hand is reaching. Inch by inch, second by second, until her fingertips run over the back of his hand, so soft but still there, before grasping the strap in her own fist. He can't believe the moment that has just transpired between them; how soft her touch was or the fact that it was really her who touched him.

And again, Bob's heart calls to her hands like the moon calls to the waves and he is left wishing that it could be strong enough to pull them closer; until he is gifted with something just as sweet.

"Thank you, Bobby," The words leave Sunny's tongue as no more than a mere whisper, but Bob wouldn't have missed it. He couldn't have. Not when it was her words- not when it's her.

Words fail him again, but instinct kicks in and he is bringing his free hand up to his hat, nodding at her with a gentle touch to it's brim. Bob lets his fingertips graze over the brim just as soft as Sunny's touch grazed over his hand. The smile he is given lights his nervous system up, sending pin prick sparks dancing across the expanse of his body. Then, he is backing away, back towards the stairs.

Bob knows he has to get out of there, he just has to. There needs to be just one moment between them that isn't tainted. And Sunny smiled at him, in that fucking jacket that she had zero business wearing with his t-shirt underneath and it sent his mind reeling the closer she stood. So, he has to go.

The takes the first two backwards before finally turning his back to her, unable to fight the smile trying to claw its way into his face. In that moment he knew he finally murdered Dr. Jekyll, and the feeling of standing over the metaphorical corpse of a twisted doctor is almost as good as that smile of hers when it's directed right towards him.

When Natasha finally exits the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel in her hand as soaks up the water droplets that still fall from her hair, she is met with the sight of Sunny. She is still clad in Nat's coat, her duffle in her hand, staring out the doorway into an empty hallway. She stands so still, so quiet, Natasha thinks something might be wrong from the way the younger woman is just standing there. That is until she notices the smile on Sunny's lips and the doe eyed look that has taken over her features.

That makes Phoenix smile too, her expression filled with a little too much knowing. She can almost picture the way Bob must look, leaning up against something, with that damn cowboy hat in his hand, or maybe held against his chest to cage in the beating of his heart. He's wearing that same fucking smile, that same doe eyed, hopelessly, head over heels in love look.

Natasha want's to scream "go after him, you idiot!" but it's too soon, they need more time. Bob needs more time to figure out just how to make up for it all, and Sunny needs more time to trust again, to trust him again. Phoenix then notices the bit of sadness in the depts of Sunny's eyes.

"Sunny," Natasha's voice is quiet, in attempt to not spook the lovesick look of of her friends face. Sunny doesn't turn from the door, still staring hopelessly into the hallway. She mutters a "Yeah?" in response. "Did he walk away from you again?"

There is anger spiking through Natasha now, her fists balled, knuckles white.

"Yes,"

That's all Natasha needs to hear. Suddenly, she is pushing past Sunny, rage taking over her in an instant. Nat is already down the hall, leaving her standing there sputtering.

"Robert Floyd!" Natasha comes crashing into the living room. There is no answer from inside the house, so she turns, heading right for the front door. Sunny is clamoring down the stairs behind her, confusion and fear laced over her features.

"Nash!" Sunny is hot on her friend's heels, her duffle bag now thrown over her shoulder, as the door swings shut with a loud slam. The walls shake, the nob still vibrating as Sunny pulls the door open.

By the time Sunny makes it out to the driveway, Natasha is pulling Bob close by the collar of his shirt. Then, she is throwing him to the ground. His body hits the pavement hard; he winces, his glasses falling from the bridge of his nose. Bob opens his mouth to speak, but is met with a sharp right hook to the jaw. Then, a fist meets his nose.

It's not clear which is louder in Bob's ears, the crunching of cartridge or the small scream that manages to escape from Sunny. He can taste the blood, metallic and sharp in his mouth, leaking into the paces between his lips and gums.

"I told you not to hurt her again, Floyd," Bob is groaning, not in response but out of pain. He makes no effort to fight back as Phoenix drops on top of him, ready to hit him again.

But the punch never comes.

And then her weight is being dragged off of him, Phoenix protesting the whole time. Bob carefully brings his hands to his face, blood smearing all over his skin. It's already dripping from his chin, collecting in dark, angry patches on his shirt.

"What the fuck was that, Natasha?!" It's Sunny's voice that cuts through Bob's bleary state, his whole face wet. Sunny is still holding Natasha back, her hands pulling Phoenix's elbows together behind her back. He was just standing there, smoking, thinking about how fucking pretty Sunny looked in his shirt, and the way she touched him, and the next thing he knew, Natasha had him, and now he couldn't be more confused. This's an answer he wants to hear, too.

"He had one more chance, Sunny, and he fucking hurt you! What else did you expect me to do?" This is the most angry Bob had seen her, even after yesterday. Sunny doesn't exactly look surprised, but God, she looks hurt.

"No," The word is so stern it get's Phoenix to stop fighting against her grip. The anger is slowly simmering out of Natasha, and Sunny may as well have been absorbing it because she is fucking livid now.

"But he hurt you, Sun-"

"No," She starts again, letting go of Nat's elbows, only to put herself between her friend and Bob. Suddenly the aviators are wearing equally confused expressions, but neither dare interrupt Sunny's angry tirade. "First of all, Natasha, you do not get to come out here, acting like a goddamn fucking fool then turn around and use that nickname with me. When I told you to call me that, I thought we had an understanding. Be there for each other, not fight each other's battles," Sunny's pointing a finger in Natasha's face. She is inching closer and closer, and it's taking all of Nat's will not to slink away.

"Second, Bobby didn't do a goddamn thing. If you would've stuck around instead of going all Rambo, you might have found out what happened. We actually came to an understanding," Sunny's not sure if that's really what happened, or if an understanding is really something that could be reached between them, but it seems to be the best word to describe the complicated situation right now.

Natasha looks at the blindingly bright jacket on Sunny, now decorated with Bob's blood. The coat is ruined now, stained with anger and lines crossed. She glances down to her hands, taking in the bright crimson decorating her knuckles. Natasha feels sick.

"Third," Sunny takes her outstretched finger and tips up Natasha's chin with it, making the older woman look her in the eyes. Sunny pays no attention to the tears threatening to flood over her waterlines. "Look me in the eyes when I'm speaking to you. Even if he did hurt me, that doesn't give you the excuse to punch him, let alone break his nose! What the hell were you thinking?"

Tears are slipping from Natasha's eyes now, her lower lip quivering. She chances a look over Sunny's shoulder to Bob, who is still bleeding profusely from his nose. He doesn't try and stop the blood, instead to focused on the women in front of him and the way Sunny is defending his honor. Then, she is shaking her head, sidestepping Natasha and heading back for the front door.

Both Bob and Natasha watch her go. Nat is doing the best she can to hold in her tears, push them back down as she sniffles. Bob wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, already too coated in blood to really help anything. It just smears the blood further over the expanse of his rapidly bruising face.

When Sunny returns a moment later, she has two purses slung over her shoulder, an ice pack and a set of keys in her hand. She approaches Natasha, she is shoving the keys and the smaller of the two purses into the older woman's hands. Natasha sniffles again, taking the items from Sunny's hands without a word. Hell, even if Natasha knew what to say, she wouldn't have been able to peel the words from he tongue.

Then, Sunny is moving towards Bob. She kneels down, grabbing his now bent glasses from the pavement. Folding them up as best as she can, she places them on Bob's thigh. She is shucking the once crisp white coat from her shoulders a second later, wrapping the icepack in it before offering it to him as a sort of rag to help with all the blood. Bob takes it with a shaky hand. She guides it in his hand up to his nose. Sunny attempts to give him a reassuring smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Natasha is going to take you to the hospital," The words are sharp and loud, loud enough for Nat to hear. They are meant for her anyway. If Sunny's tone of voice didn't make him feel sick, the completely crushed expression on Phoenix's face would have.

With a quick squeeze of Bob's thigh, Sunny is moving away. As she stands, she swipes the still smoldering cigarillo from the ground, bringing it up to her lips. The look Sunny sends Natasha as she grabs her duffle bag from the grass sends chills down both her and Bob's spines. Then, Sunny's back is turned to the pair as she heads down the driveway.

The Aviators watch as she goes, turning down the street and slowly disappearing into the distance. Neither dare to move, dare to speak. After all, there is nothing to say, not when there is so much understanding between them now. Natasha knows now, how Bob felt at the Hard Deck as he watched Sunny walk away. Her anger clouded her eyes before, too focused on getting answers. But, she knows now, too, having watched Sunny walk away in a cloud of stolen smoke.

When Nat finally turns back to Bob, he looks at her with such empathy, and that fucking breaks her.

A strangled sob wracks through her from deep in her chest, clawing its way out of her throat as hot tears all but burn trails down her face. Then, Bob is holding a bloody hand out to her, beckoning her closer, to sit with him. So she does, the tears coming hard and fast, almost choking her. Bob wraps a comforting arm around Phoenix's shoulders, pulling her into him, a makeshift way to ground the both. She buries her face into the now crimson jacket as Bob rubs her back, letting her cry. As the sun gets higher in the sky, and the tears slow, neither attempt to move from their space on the concrete. Both are too weighed down from the day, from the fight, from watching Sunny walk away from their fucking mess.

And so, the pair sit on the pavement, up against Bob's truck, covered in slowly drying blood; watching the road that their girl disappeared down, just hoping, praying that she might turn back around.

#bob floyd angst #robert floyd angst #robert bob floyd angst #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #best friend phoenix #best friend natasha trace #once an asshole

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cutegirlmayra · 7 months

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Aye, Aye, Capt'n!!!!

Note: All the obstacles listed are basically what's in the above mentioned Anon requests XD I just didn't want to have to describe everything when they did it so well! <3

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUT DOWN, LOCKED UP TIGHT WITH A ZIPLOCK BAGGIE, DO NOT PUT MORE REQUESTS FOR WRITING INTO THE PRISON WHICH IS THE INBOX, Thank you~

However, do I like a 'Hi, I love this and that <3' every now and then. Peace and love, My Cuties~

Prompt:

War had ruined most hearts against the sunny light of hope… it was a dark time, hardly counts to call it the ‘worst’ since most refuse to acknowledge that time should even consider it. To most, it was a mistake.

Many looked to the basking Sonic with quiet anger, seeing him up on a ruined pillar that had fallen on some poor sap’s rooftop. They saw this as an open rebellion of sorts, as though their ‘hero’ was ‘too good’ to help with reconstruction efforts.

This soured their hearts, as they had all mourned his supposed passing… now they envied the time they thought him better than this.

Amy, sensing the hostility, requested a plot of land to not be cleared yet. With the trash, she constructed obstacles, feats of daring intique, and even thrills in hopes of getting Sonic and the rest of the remaining survivors a entertainment spectacle to lose themselves in.

Maybe… sparking love once more for their daring, dashing hero again.

However… Sonic was a fickle sort of heart. Always darting around, Amy couldn’t find the time to actually stick his feet to the ground long enough to engage him in these ‘sports’ of sorts.

Not giving up, though exhausted, she asked for more time from Knuckles and Tails happily took her spot to cover for her.

She was determined to make Sonic care… there was no doubt in her mind that he did, but no one saw the actions a hero did when alone… and no one was watching.

‘How do I make them understand him?’ She thought to herself, getting a bungie chord secured and ready, locking it in place. “How…” She arched her eyes, in worry. “How do I show them who he truly is?”

At night, dead in its darkness, Sonic traveled hundreds of miles… searching the ground with due diligence, he would race back with seeds of every different kind of plant life he could find–down to the smallest grain of mustard seed.

He would run and scatter from his hands the seeds into the wake of his wind, and thereby, he was healing the earth… digging out channels of land to make small canals for water to be brought to the new seedlings, and he did this all without a single eye upon him… except, when Amy tracked his location one night, that is.

She took out her tracker and followed in his footsteps, covering her mouth when her eyes were alight with green… and all sorts of beautiful colors from the freshly watered plants springing up again.

It was so far from the city… of course no one would interfere with it.

But Amy clenched her heart, she knew the people would still think Sonic a decadent, his credence simply being that he never helped the living civilians and rebellion people whom he led… caring more for ridiculous plants than their own wellbeing.

But Amy knew in her heart that this was important work, too… No matter how many homes are rebuilt, if the earth was damaged, so would their futures be…

“I have to make them see.” She hit the large, steel spike into the ground adamantly, sweat forming on her forehead as she wiped it off, ‘He’s so kind.’ she teared up, gritting her teeth, ‘How dare they say he doesn’t care! If they saw the beauty of that place… of the wide and green miles upon miles he’s worked so hard to restore… they’d see he is on their side… just… in a different way!’

She hammered and hammered… growing more upset, ‘Sonic..’ Her heart cried out and she fell to her knees, “How do I make them understand..?”, ‘How do I get them to see your heart… without actually showing them your private passion project?’

She wiped her eyes with her arm… before hearing a familiar spinning sound, like a pinball spin-up.

“H-huh?” She turned to see Sonic blazing through her track, “Oh!” She was elated to see him… but then…

“Wait!” She rose straight up, “No, no, no!!!” She raced forward, wanting to stop him! ‘If he completes the obstacle course and thrill rides… No one will see it and laugh with us at his accomplishment!’, “Sonic!!!”

She raced after him with her hands outstretched along the track, like a true test of courage and strength, as Sonic was literally destroying the track as it wasn’t done yet while completing it.

He was having a ball!

Amy quickly had to run to get on the track, unable to save it, she just tried to keep up and dodge the crumbling setup built from the ruins of the area. “Soooniicc!!!” She tried to balance along a beam as he swung from rail to rail, smirking the whole way as he was enjoying the strange setup, not looking back, always moving forward…

‘Why isn’t he looking back?’ She saw the railing swing had snapped on one side, and jumped to the bars to climb up the rope and move along that way.

Sonic only halted at the bungie chord, putting a finger to his chin.

“This is meant to be for all to see! To do it with me! As a game!” Amy cried out, but Sonic tied the rope around him… She had to hurry before he-!”

“Waaaiiittt!!!” Amy grabbed his waist, as Sonic smiled and took hold of her, jumping. “AHHHH!!!!”

Sonic held her the rest of the way through, leaping over large rubber balls, spin-dashing through punching bags, and narrowly avoiding the water traps too.

Scaling a climbing slope, he threw Amy up top and then made it the rest of the way no problem.

He hit a button and laughed, “I did it!” He put his hands straight out, “Yes!” as the whole of the entire area crumbled to pieces, and smashed over other parts of the track to completely fail and fall, slashing big portions of the setup to rumble once more…

He put his hands on his hips, “Huh, wonder why Eggman randomly put this track out in the middle of no where, huh, Amy?” He looked down at her, “... Amy?”

She was on all fours, shaking…

“... Amy, are you okay-?” He went to reach for her hand, bending down but she turned her head away, silently looking as though growling at him in her head.

Her eyes were covered in shadows… “Why don’t you listen?”

His outstretched hand paused.

“This isn’t a game… Well, it was- but it was meant to be adored by millions of suffering fans who needed to see you do it!” She gripped the steel upon rusty steel flooring of the top of the tower. “You just… you don’t stop and think, you just… you just do it!” She cried, “Sonic The Hedgehog… Do you care about anyone’s hard work besides your own!?” She looked up at him and it cut air off between the two of them.

He stepped back, his arms out to the side of himself now.

Amy’s eyes were blurred by her emotions, her tears like blobs of weighted mass, she couldn’t wipe them from her eyes as more just kept coming… like a floodgate had been opened.

“I don’t get it… I’m the one that doesn’t understand you.” She lowered her head, “I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have said all of that…” She cried into her hands, “I worked so hard… so people could see a different side of you… But… this is all they see.” She gestured to the ruined obstacle course and thrilling feats she had been working on. “I… I don’t want to give up on you… or the people… or myself.” She lowered her hands to her lap, now sitting on her knees.

“Sonic…” She looked up at him, his face still distorted by her tears. “Why do you do your works in the dark?”

Realizing in that sentence what she was finally talking about, his shoulders relaxed and he took a deep breath.

“I’m not offended, Amy…” He put a hand behind his head, scratching it a bit to loose some of the awkward tension that had arisen. To him, this had come out of left field, literally no where, and he was expected to catch a baseball he didn’t even know was pitched. “Just taken aback, is all.”

“...” Amy said nothing, her head lowering down, as though distraught that that was his first reply.

He looked worried, and smiled gently as he looked over the track. “... I’ve seen you working on this, Amy.” He admitted, as her head came back up, and she got herself straightly up right away onto her feet.

“Then why did you destroy it!? Why’d you say it was Eggman’s doing!?” She shook her fists, “Why did you-…” Her voice broke a bit, “I always thought I had to entertain you, Sonic… that I couldn’t keep up, so I might as well keep you around by making a good effort on my end… but even then… I’m tried, Sonic.” She closed her eyes, as Sonic twitched and put his fingers to his heart, looking down as though feeling literal pain there.

“That sank pretty low.” He admitted, his tone sounding more heartbroken then ever. He couldn’t hide that.

“You’ve done… nothing for others to witness.” She rubbed her eyes, “I can’t keep trying to make them see the real you, Sonic… or even love you, anymore.”

He smiled and turned to her, “I never asked to be ‘entertained’, Amy… No friend should have to feel like they’re catering to one or the other.”

Amy’s head shot up at that.

“If you’re tired, it’s because you’ve been trying to grab at something that just isn’t there. No one can control another’s emotions… you aren’t responsible for how I act, or how other people feel, Amy…”

Amy got wobbly, so Sonic held out a hand, catching her. “... It’s the moments people hold personal… that make them heroes, Amy.” He lowered his head, “I never asked to be a hero… I just became one… because I couldn’t hide myself anymore.” He smiled, “Good deeds or not, I live by my own creed… I don’t need cheers or approval from others… I do what I want to do, and it just so happens that saving the world, protecting my friends and others,... those are things I enjoy doing.” He helped her back to her feet, her hands gripping his arms as though never wanting to be let go of them.

“But… why can’t you… be celebrated openly, Sonic?” She shook her head, “I don’t want to hear people speaking ill of you…”

“You’re burnt out, Amy… worrying about how other people view me.” He rubbed the top of her head, affectionately. “Eggman made this mess… but you made another, putting your time into something that wasn’t your problem to deal with in the first place.” He lightly pulled her head to his chest, dropping his own head to hers. “Amy… Whether people like what I do or not, I would hope in my heart… that you’d at least choose to accept it, accept me… and for what I am, I accept all of you… even the parts that worry about me.” He smirked and moved her out of his embrace. “Life’s no fun if you’re always waiting for someone to witness you doing it.” He gave her a wink and a thumbs up, “You miss too many opportunities that way.”

She couldn’t help but feel there was some truth in that, “... The best things…” She sniffled, rubbing the back of her nose against her gloved hand, looking at it as though disgusted, but having no alternative. “Are what’s unseen…”

Sonic nodded, “My merit isn’t credited by those that can view it… it’s what I know I did, Amy. So have faith that people will warm up to us all again, you’ll see.” He grinned, leaning towards her, “Keep a smile on that pretty face of yours, and quit playing in the trash, alright?” He rubbed her cheeks, getting some dust off of them.

She giggled, “Sonic… you’re the best and the worst at this!” She pushed him and he stumbled, wobbling off the edge of the tower as Amy placed her hands on her cheeks and swayed repeatedly back and forth, “Ohh~ You sweet talker, you~”

She blinked her eyes… “Sonic?”

She looked over to see he was gripping the edge of the tower.

Looking over, she saw him with chibi tears spraying out of his eyes, “HELLLP MEEE!!!” He cried out, “AMMYY!!!”

She immediately gasped and reached down, “Oh, OHH!! Sonnniccc!!! I’m so sorry!”

“Wah-hah-ha, why’d you make it so tall!?” He wiggled his feet out as she hoisted him up, looking down and getting freaked out.

When she got him up, he laid across her and starting laughing.

She blinked her eyes again but he just rolled off of her, “That sure was fun! I’m glad I got to be here with you… Amy.” He smiled and put a hand on his stomach, “What should we do next, huh?”

She smiled, “First… you’re gonna do all my work I left behind.” She narrowed her eyes, “You’re gonna take responsibility for your actions… and you’re going to at least clear up the misunderstandings.”

He looked as though she didn’t get what he was saying, but sighed, “Fine. If it makes you happy… Amy.” He closed his eyes and put his hands behind his back, “But first…” He tilted his nose up, “Can you smell that?”

She tried to, “Smoke? Oil?” She guessed, but he kept shaking his head lightly.

“Nah… keep trying.” He smiled gently, “Emmm~”

She tried again… reaching her nose out further, “Ah..! Your flowers!” She looked to the area far off, seeing his passionate project coming to life now that the thick smog parted to show the whole area… and people picking flowers, playing in the clean water, and enjoying life out there.

“Ah… They already knew.” Her eyes twitched at the beautiful sight, “From way up here…”

“... You saw a problem that you thought was there.” Sonic opened his eyes lightly, “No one hated me, Amy…” He looked to her, “... You were projecting your own thoughts and feelings onto others… You thought you were the only one… but really,” He took on a serious tone.

“I think you felt I wasn’t giving you enough time, Amy… for all you do for me, I think you felt jipped.”

She broke down and sobbed profusely, as Sonic slowly got up and put an arm around her again, letting her cry…

She was the one thinking those horrible things… this whole time…

“Eggman really made a mess of things.” He gently rested his head over Amy’s shoulder, “Didn’t he, Amy?”

With an absolute heart full of grace and sorrow, thankful for Sonic’s understanding, she held her hand to his back and pulled him closer, “Yes…” She admitted, feeling the weight finally set in. “I tried to be so strong when he took you away from us… I never once believed you were gone…”

“... That must have been a heavy burden… keeping everyone’s faith and hope alive… in me, and in the war efforts,... Amy.” Sonic closed his eyes, letting her let it out.

“I just… I wanted to see you.” She smushed her eyes into his shoulder. “I wanted you to want to see me…”

“...” This time, Sonic remained silent.

“... I love you, Sonic.” She mumbled through her tears.

“... I know.” Sonic took his other hand and adjusted his legs to be able to sit and hold her with both his arms now around her. “I missed you too, Amy…”

They both then said, as though one healing thought spoken aloud from their souls…

“I missed you so much.”

#sonamy #sonamy forces #forces!sonamy #cutegirlmayra #tumblr prompts #sonic fanfic #sonic forces #sonic forces prompt #sonic forces angst

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tubborucho · 5 months

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Yeah, I am pretty sure he thought of it as a light-hearted way to explain Sunny why Tallulah is moody. Doesn’t change the fact that it was a fucked up thing to say and genuinely hurtful for a literal toddler.

This and your point about people not being able to let go of the whole Dadza thing are two of my biggest problems with q!Phil. I know it's not cc!Phil's fault how people treat him but the way people overhype his parenting does make it more irritating as a viewer. It's not just fans, though, most characters seem to share this view of him as an amazing Dad. The fact that he stepped up for Tallulah when Wilbur left is great and the effort he puts in is great, but his parenting skills are just okay.

It feels like every time he talks to or about Sunny he ends up doing something bad that's brushed off because "that's just how Phil talks" or "he's just protecting his kids".

His reaction to Sunny's train was awful. I know he has a banter-y relationship with Tubbo but he was criticizing her father and her own choices right in front of her. It felt like he didn't even absorb any of what Tubbo was telling him. Like, why did he keep complaining about it feeling sterile when it was a brand new build and Sunny chose the white blocks themself?

The morality test about stealing the panda was completely unacceptable. Genuinely horrible thing to do to a child especially when he told her point blank at the end that it was a test that she managed to pass. Why would she trust someone who might be secretly testing her?

The talk in the museum was bad for both Sunny and Tallulah. Tallulah isn't "in a mood," she has genuine concerns but has still been making an effort with Sunny even while trying to maintain some distance. For Sunny he was playing up a very real insecurity to make a point. It's not really fair to Tubbo either, his game was having issues and he left his daughter with two of the people he trusts the most. I went to watch from the vod for slightly more context and chat reactions and Phil did not waste any time at all. The moment Tubbo was gone he rolled straight into it with Sunny.

There was also a point a few days ago where Tallulah showed some discomfort over Empanada and Phil responded with this:

Empanada’s nice, you like Empanada. You like Em. It’s Sunny you’re not a fan of. Sunny’s just all in your face with money and sunglasses and shit. But, like, Sunny’s fine too. Sunny’s just a bit much though. Sunny takes a while to get used to.

Sunny was not around for this but it's still a terrible way to talk about a child. They weren't even the egg Tallulah was concerned about at the time. And I do believe that q!Phil wasn't trying to be mean here but he still was. He is consistently unkind to Sunny even when he's trying to make a good point or a joking.

Wait, is the last thing a genuine quote? Because I haven’t heard this one before.

And yeah. Listen, Phil is a good parent. He takes care of Chayanne and Tallulah very well. He is a good parent, but it doesn’t mean that he is good that way for every other child ever. I think people forget that Dad figures in stories don’t mean that they are perfect in every adult-child relationship ever.

He is a great dad for Chay and Lullah. He is genuinely very condescending towards Sunny. It’s like every time they interact he just refuses to even try to see past his initial impression of them. Phil wrote her down for no reason as a shallow and tolerable at best kid in his books, and acts on that judgement in a way that he doesn’t care about her in any way past their basic safety and sometimes teaching them stuff if they need it immediately.

The only reason he pays Sunny any mind at all is that he cares for Tubbo. Also not in a parental way that people (and Tubbo lmao) seem to try and picture it as, but he cares. Sunny is just a tag along.

And don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that he should love her like his own or even really like her. It’s fine. I am saying that he still should treat her with the same grace as other kids that are not his – she is a child, you are speaking of and with a child, being mean about and to them is not okay. Especially because this child did literally nothing wrong.

#liss writes posts #liss answers asks #qsmp sunny #qsmp phil neg

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solosikoasgf · 1 year

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most ardently , chapter one.

previous chapters: prologue pairing: roman reigns x oc (cheyenne monet) themes: toxic relationship, angst, power dynamic/imbalance, a little heavy flirtation word count: 1,933 author's note: thank you all for the love on the prologue!!! it's super appreciated and hopefully you stay with me as i navigate where the hell these two are going as it's always changing in my mind. honestly logistics in matches are where i'll get hung up a lot as it doesn't play a huge role in this versus how it's changed roman, so i am making shit up as i go that fall in line with current bloodline happenings. but like i said. i am making that shit up. taglist: none currently, please let me know if you want to be on it!

song recommendations: so be it - alex vaughn & summer walker, let it burn by jazmine sullivan

it had been years since roman had last laid eyes on cheyenne, and things had changed dramatically since that time. going from one title to two, to universal champion with one of the longest reigns in history, to having his family back him as head of the table, guiding the anoa'i family into a new era of greatness.

every test, every trial, every door that had been slammed in his face had been broken, with him always emerging as the victor. over time, it came to be accepted this was how it was supposed to be.

like he had known then, it was only affirmed now. he didn't need anybody. he had carried this legacy this far on his own back, of his own merit. he had long brushed off the feelings that emerged whenever fleeting thoughts of cheyenne managed to make it into his mind - whenever he had free time in the locker room before a match, whenever he sat at a dinner with his cousins rather than her, whenever the days were sunny and he passed a jogger on his normal route - reminded of her early morning walks.

none of that mattered anymore. she had made her choice, he had made his, and he had made the right one. she was in the wrong, not him.

the roar of a crowd as he disappears behind stage rings in his ears, having finished another night of asserting his dominance over another peer who felt they had the right, the nerve, to try and overstep him. he had bigger problems in his rearview - tonight wasn't about the fight, but the mind games he played before the fight occurred. he can hear paul next to him on his right, solo on his left, as staff part while he walks, much like the red sea.

"my tribal chief, we should leave soon." the elder man speaks, hurrying his steps - not daring to walk next to roman, but just one step slightly behind - the respect that roman had long come to feel he deserved. "there's a few days before the next match, and though i know you have a plan, we should discuss how to handle riddle."

roman scowls, shaking his head with a smirk. "ain't nothing to discuss. he won't be satisfied until i put his ass through a table. and who am i to deny him of that if that's what he wants?"

"you shouldn't even have to waste your time, my tribal chief."

"i know that, you know that. but some people - like matt, truly won't hear it until they get their ass handed to 'em. don't worry too hard about it." roman reassures, reaching behind to place a heavy pat on the back of paul. he goes to crack another joke when familiar laughter rings through his ears, and even though time has passed, a feeling runs through his body that makes him stop in his tracks.

he can see solo's body tense from his peripheral vision, and he shakes his head, holds out an arm to get the younger to relax, but the stoney look on his face says otherwise. just beyond solo's shoulder is the prep room, usually where the next wrestlers for the next match, the next promo, wait right up until their time to take the ring. from the panel on the side, it's time for the women's division, and that usually means nothing, he has no interest in that side.

he takes steps towards the laughter, hands curled into tight fists. roman makes no effort to placate anybody with a smile or pleasantries, coming upon bianca belair, standing in the middle of the room while two or three others buzz around her, readying her for her appearance. at first, he relaxes, thinks it can't be anything-

until one person, hidden behind a screen, comes out, hands full of garments. curly hair, sweet and innocent smile, calm brown eyes, small waist and wide hips - cheyenne monet.

she doesn't see him at first - moving towards bianca to adjust her outfit, stepping back to look at the overall before her eyes travel up beyond her shoulder, and they lock eyes for the first time. roman can't trace what he sees across her face - a flash of recognition, anger, disappointment, and finally disinterest. her eyes quickly shift back to bianca, and he quietly moves from the doorway slightly inside and to the side, waving away assistants who ask if he needs anything. bianca throws a glance, a curt nod, refocusing on her own tasks at hand.

"cheyenne, you don't know what this means to me, especially when you don't really do this anymore." bianca grasps cheyenne's hands, and the two share a warm look that makes roman just a little uneasy.

"stop, you know i'll always make time for the 'est'." a bright smile that sends a jab through roman, readjusting his position against the wall. "we can talk about it when you come back, so go. don't forget your belt - and be careful in those heels."

in a few hurried moments, bianca is whisked from the room and her assistants follow, leaving cheyenne and roman alone. she doesn't address him, and he can't decide if this makes him even more angry or wistful.

"so after all this time, you don't have nothing to say to me?" he starts, pushing himself off the wall to slowly walk to her.

"here you go - we're not doing this." her reply is short, not bothering to look at him. she starts to clean up her supplies, and he can get a better look at her - same stature, hair longer, but he feels the same draw to her that he'd always felt. as she moves he can smell the vanilla bourbon drift through the room in waves - his favorite perfume on her.

is she taunting me? did she do this because she knew i'd be here?

"i feel like the last time i saw you, i said you weren't welcome in my world again."

"this isn't your world."

"oh, but it is. i run every night of this business. this is my show now."

roman's long strides take him until he's right in front of her, forcing her to stop, eyes slowly rising to his own - to look him in the face. he wants to see the truth when he looks at her, but is met with a similar reflection of the last time he saw her. cold. empty. a part of him twinges with disappointment - had she really not felt anything?

"i don't answer to you, roman." her reply is soft, but firm. he has her trapped between the table and himself, but she still manages to pack the rest of her bag, trying to squeeze between the two to put space between them, but he stops her, shifting his steps to widen his stance- imposing, domineering. she sighs, and he tilts his head while he looks into her face more, deciding how he wants this to go.

"just hold on, chey." his voice is just slightly softer now.

"why?"

"because i want to look at you." her eyes dart up, and he can see something behind them soften, and it makes his his heart fire up in the slightest way. his tongue glides over his lips looking at her own, and he can see her breath quicken just a little, chest rising with more frequency. he hates that after so long, he still wants her. desires her. she didn't believe in him - in fact cheyenne questioned his capabilities to the point of them fighting so often, they could barely have a conversation by the end of their relationship. he would think that after all this time, his body would be immune to her.

he's pissed that he's wrong.

"there's nothing to look at." she finally responds, pressing a small hand against his chest to create space for her to move away. "just think of me as another nameless face."

"tell me the real reason why you came back."

"roman, what do you want to hear? why are you even talking to me?" she finally presses.

there's a hundred reasons he could use to shoot her down, to make her leave. they all sit in the tip of his tongue, and the wide, toying smirk he has on his face says it all as he rubs his hand across his beard, keeping his dark eyes trained on her. "i just need to make sure you're here for the right reasons." her snort of disgust drives the smirk more, and he shrugs his shoulders.

"i'll be gone before you know it." she mumbles, back to him, looking at the tv where bianca was finishing up her promo.

paul shows back up in the doorway, and roman waves him off, knowing he has to leave. he quietly comes up behind cheyenne, leaning down to talk quietly in her ear.

"things aren't the same since you were here last, cheyenne. everything you see, i run." he pauses, feeling her tense up. "i'm not chasin' you out of here. you can stay to see for yourself." another moment of silence, and he lets himself continue before he overthinks himself out of it - lets his desire come to the forefront. "maybe you'll realize you were wrong so you can be back where you belong- next to me. because once you stepped back in this building, back in my world? whether you like it or not, you're mine."

he can see her eyebrows raise, but she remains silent, and he chuckles. "so either you leave and deny me again, you do the right thing and acknowledge me and get back to how we were, or you stay here, isolated. because ain't no man touchin' you if it ain't me."

roman isn't sure if he believes his own words - physically he wants cheyenne - but mentally he battles. but it's easier to put these lines down now, to make it clear, because it's easier to have it under his control than hers. but the usual tactics that would have made cheyenne acquiesce to him do nothing now, and he's slightly surprised at how her face doesn't change, how she holds her stance, slowly turning her head to look him directly in the eyes.

"that's how i know it bothers you still, ro." her voice is soft, firm. "rather than pretend i'm not here, you come find me. you bother me while i work, you try and get close to me, try to threaten me so nobody else wants to be near me, because you want them to think i belong to you.

instead of saying sorry, apologizing, anything, you intimidate. because being manipulative has always gotten you what you want- but you know what?" she faces him, pressing herself closer in a way that surprises him, her face only inches away from his own. "it just makes me feel bad for you, that you think the only way you'll receive love is by forcing it. you never used to be like that - and that's the only version of you i miss."

the sudden softness in her voice and eyes takes him back, and a moment passes between them that's faintly reminiscent of better times: her laughter, her hands in his, tender moments in private. it hits roman harder than he expects, and he straightens, putting the cold look back on his face. "that man you're talkin' about. he's gone. so figure out where you stand, cheyenne."

he backs up to leave, with the image of cheyenne's disappointed eyes settling on his shoulders.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x oc #the bloodline wwe #the bloodline fanfiction #fic : most ardently

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jellonetta · 1 year

Text

That's when they say I lost my only friend PT. 1

OK so this was a veryyyy long request in the making but I decided to split is into two parts. I didn't want everyone to wait any longer for more and then forget about it so here is part 1 of 2.

Content for those who are wondering, in this story Sunny Day Jack and Joseph are the same person or entity in a way. The reader hasn't moved to the farmhouse yet but will be in the second part.

Part One is like the calm before the storm to put it like that.

Requested By @chibithewitch

Character(s): Sunny Day Jack | Joseph Haberdae x GN! Chubby! Vitiligo! Reader

TW: Minor Angst, Fluff, Some one-sided feeling(?)

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

You can remember running outside with Hazel, your dog, without care. She chases, and you laugh in glee. Your family couldn't understand why they adore you over the others. Hazel loves them, but you seem like you were their favorite. Your older brother was quite jealous of your's and Hazel's bond. You think he envies it. Your family has started to take note of your relationship, too.

It's nothing special though. You just enjoy each other’s company.

Hazel has always been there for you. She understands you better than anyone. When you feel lost, or when something is bothering you, she's there. When you're sad, she'll sit right by you until you calm down. When you’re angry, she makes you feel safe. If someone hurts her, you protect her.

And if anything happens to you…well, she's going to look out for you just as well.

She's probably more protective than you are of yourself.

She seems to sense when someone is coming up behind her and is ready to defend you from any threat. She's an excellent fighter, but even she needs help sometimes. And when she gets scared, she's very aggressive. She's not a violent beast, but she's very sensitive to any form of negative emotion. She hates it when people hurt the ones she loves.

Even after your break up with Ian, she was there to comfort you. The trick she does best is licking your face. Whenever she tries, you laugh and try to wipe her saliva off. But it never works because she can still taste how salty you are. It's so gross. She licks it off your skin anyway before licking her lips clean. You don't mind, though. She's your baby and she means well. She's happy you're happy again.

Then you met him, Joseph Haberdae, and his ghost(?), alter ego(?), Sunny Day Jack.

Joseph was quite close off when you first met him. Picking up part-time at the yogurtopia, you never held so much sympathy for a person until you saw him in the work uniform. You could have sworn you saw his eye twitching when he had to say the store slogan.

A part of him must have died that day.

He looked miserable and you didn't want to make things worse. You tried talking to him. But his answers were dry and distant. Trying to maintain the brick wall he's putting up between you two. So you let it go. He was trying to deal with something. You respected that. He didn't need you interfering in his life. That would only make things worse, anyways. So you left him alone and focused on working.

But something just change one day he started a conversation, heck even cracked a few jokes. He was in a good mood, a great one at that. You liked it saying that he should smile more you remember seeing his face turning red and rolling his eyes before going ahead to restock the topping bins.

He was making an effort to make friends, even with his weirdly closed-off personality. After all, if his life were like yours, wouldn't he want to do the same?

And so you started hanging out with him. He was fun and funny. His jokes reminded you of a younger you, and you both shared moments of laughter. He was a great conversationalist and seemed comfortable with himself. Even though he didn't talk much, you appreciated being able to share some of your memories with him.

You worked together, and the next few months passed by peacefully. He was growing on you much more than you thought until you caught yourself talking about him to Hazel. Her eyes fill with wonder at this stranger who makes you smile like a love-sick middle school girl.

You weren't sure what happened.

Perhaps it was your newfound interest in romance and his friendly presence. Or maybe it was something else entirely. One thing was for sure though, Joseph wasn't leaving your mind anytime soon.

At least, that's what you told yourself when Joseph started acting distant. It bothered you to no end because you didn't want to lose the friendship you built. Especially when your relationship was already starting to grow strong.

But when you asked him what it was, he avoided the question. Instead, he said, "It’ll get better, (nickname). I promise." Which was the opposite of what you wanted him to say. In all honesty, you weren't sure what exactly made him upset. Maybe he was just tired. Who knows, maybe he just needed the time apart.

So when he offered to stay with you during his shift and you agreed, you assumed nothing would happen.

You were mistaken.

For once.

Something did happen.

Not long later, the three of you sat around the house. The two of you watched TV and chatted about random things, Hazel manage to bargain Joseph out of some head pats. It was not like he had much of a choice with her massive size. Then he reached out and grabbed your wrist. At the same moment he turned his head to you to ask what you were doing, he suddenly froze and began shaking.

You didn't know what was happening, but he looked terrified. Your eyes widen in concern as you tried to figure out what was going through his mind. He was frozen like a deer caught in headlights staring into your eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but he was unable to utter a sound. The longer he stared at you, the paler he got.

Eventually, with one last squeeze of your hand, he collapsed on you.

You gently moved him back onto the couch and then immediately took your phone from where you had left it charging. You turned the volume all the way down on the tv. Hazel was quick to take action going into protective mode and looking around the room for danger.

“What just happened? Was he sick? Is something wrong with him?” Your mind was racing. How could this possibly be normal behavior for Joseph?

She continued growling until you ran toward her to check on her.

“Woah, woah, honey. Easy tiger. It’s okay.” You cooed rubbing her ears.

“It’s okay. Nothing is wrong with him. We’re fine. We’re gonna be just fine.”

The growl stopped, but her tail stayed down as she watched Joseph cautiously. Her breathing slowly returned to normal, but her fur remained in a defensive position. You didn’t blame her. You also didn’t understand what was happening either. But you were glad she calmed down.

"Hello, Sunshine!" A sudden voice caused you both to turn around and see Joseph.

"Joseph..?" You muttered.

"No, I'm Jack, Sunny Day Jack! I'm happy to finally meet you!" He said cheerfully.

His bright blue hair bounced slightly with every move he made. He smiled at you brightly. You didn't understand what the hell is going on. It looks like Joseph from the jawline to the way his hair is combed aside from being more neat than messy. The only difference is he looks like he was straight out of a kid's show.

What is going on? Did he somehow switch places with a different person?

You turned toward him to confirm what you thought.

To your surprise, however, the face wasn't unfamiliar at all. He was grinning widely at you, and although the expression was completely different than the Joseph you knew, it still felt familiar.

"Oh my!" Jack chuckled. "You don't recognize me?" He questioned, obviously amused.

You shook your head. "I guess it wasn't the best idea to introduce myself to a stranger. Well, you're not a stranger anymore, (nickname)! I'll tell you about the whole story sometime. For now, can call her off, it looks like I'm going to become her next chew toy."

And that is how you met Jack.

Of course, you're worried at first because you still haven't been able to figure out how he switched to Joseph. You asked him many times how he did it but you never received any answer. But he never gave you any reason to doubt his sincerity.

He's quite the character from his bright blue hair, and cute clown cosmetics, down to his comical clown shoes. He doesn't push things or force himself onto you. He knows that the way you deal with emotions is different from what he does. He respects your boundaries, but never pressures you into doing anything. He just waits for you to come around and open up when you want to. So you're thankful that he did this to you.

Joseph and Jack were quite the duo with the clashing aesthetics, personality, and even the way they talk it was hard to say it was the same person. Jack loved to listen to music and Joseph was fascinated with comic books. You've learned that Joseph is a bit of a coffee addict. He'd always make a double shot and drink it while sitting at the bar counter.

He's been addicted ever since his college days he says.

As for Jack, he enjoyed cooking. You didn't know why he was interested in cooking. But he can make anything edible. But despite his talent in cooking, he rarely cooked for himself. When he cooked for you, it was always homemade meals. He never bought ingredients. You always had to buy them for him.

You couldn't cook for shit sometimes. But hey Jack make some bomb-ass blueberries pancakes.

Jack would laugh and you'd join in, You were happy. And the atmosphere was lightening up and that's when you realized.

You've forgotten how love felt you were.

And it felt wonderful.

You didn't realize you were smiling so wide and you didn't notice that you had gotten lost in the moment. You were brought back into reality when you heard Jack clear his throat. You looked up at him and noticed that his cheeks were flushed lightly.

"You know...you're very pretty when you smile like that.." he spoke quietly, averting your gaze.

You blinked at the sudden compliment. You honestly didn't expect to hear that from him. You never considered that anyone would think of you as attractive.

You were shocked.

"Really?! I never realized...." you trailed off.

"I mean...it's true. And Joseph seems to enjoy your company. I never understood why."

"Because I'm nice and sweet!" You smiled softly at him. "But yeah, I enjoy your company too..."

You didn't realize that was true, but you kind of liked that too. There's nothing wrong with having him enjoy your company, right?

But you were scared your last relationship left you in ruin. You were afraid you were going to fall in love again and have a repeat of the past. You didn't want it to happen again. It's hard enough knowing what happened to you before. You never want to be reminded of your past mistakes again.

And yet here he was with his hands around yours and his body pressed close to yours. If there was anything you were certain of, it was that you wanted more.

Thank you For Reading! <3 Stay in tune for part two!

Request are Open

#jellonetta drabbles #sunny day jack x reader #joseph haberdae x reader #sunny day jack x gn!reader #sunny day jack x gn reader #sunny day jack #self insert #gn!reader #x gn!reader #x black!reader #x black!gn!reader

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blackrevell · 1 month

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Guess who's back! Still some questions unanswered. 8, 9, 35 and 43 if you like!

At this point, I'm worried about you, climbing these walls with so much courage. Thank you so much for enabling! <3

8. How open they are about their true feelings, both positive and negative?

Highly depends on what the context is and who she is with. If it's business matters, she has no hesitation in expressing her thoughts and feelings. If the plan is stupid, the other party will know at once. If the plan is good — they will know too.

If it's a personal matter, she has to rely on her partner to put effort into decoding her feelings to a certain degree. Her upbringing wired her to shove feelings under the rug in favor of pragmatism. It brought certain benefits — she is diligent, capable and reliable at work, doesn't complain about difficulty. Yet this stoicism had its price — sometimes she herself doesn't know what she feels exactly, and whether it is important enough to be brought up at all.

Both of her relationships were a challenge and a learning experience, as you can't keep love alive if you treat it with the mindset of a warehouse manager. Love, among other things, is built on emotional dedication; and although she might never learn to "understand" her feelings, she had to learn how to trust herself with being open about them.

9. What is their love language?

Love Language Number 1: being open-minded and having a kink for infodumping. Give her all the brain stimulation, show that you're not intellectually stuck in the same box, tell her about the things that happened to you throughout the day. And essentially — let her be the first person you want to share it all with. Alt loves listening to Kurt's stories about his many travels, while Kurt finds joy in telling them to someone who actually cares about it all: the friend-foe dealings with Siberians, the sunny Balkans with its unique music, the stupidity of Militech corps and many more (Rosie could never).

Language Number Also 1: physical touch. After all the abuse she had to go through in her childhood, being touched with love and genuine affection matters a lot. A long embrace is one of the keys to making her feel safe and loved. Holding hands is like winning a lottery. All that is reserved for friends and partners, though; strangers should keep their hands to themselves. As for giving love, she is a person of deeds: share your troubles with her, and she will find a solution. Wants to ensure the significant people in her life are in good health and mind, protected and thriving (even if you're a betrayed warlord with a destroyed city district and a bunch of clowns with guns)

35. Do they like their own appearance, and what do they do, if anything, to alter it in any way?

When it comes to clothing, she wears what she wants, and is content with her choices. Mostly casual-styled clothing with a bit of roughness thrown in: leather accessories, angular shapes, maybe some small metallic details. Isn't afraid of the scars on her arm, neck and face; wears sleeveless tops freely. When Alt was a child, she suffered physical abuse from her father and had to cover the bruises with clothes, which earned her "Longsleeves" nickname from her classmates. By 2070, the scars and bruises she gets are the results of her actions and choices, and she isn't afraid of that.

When it comes to face and body, she doesn't consider herself a top looker, but she isn't negative or pessimistic about it. "Could be a bit better here and there, but whatever I have is fine". Flaunts whatever she's got and doesn't ponder over it much, frankly.

43. Do they enjoy flirting or being flirted with?

She doesn't care much about it. Years of working at a bar brought her the experience of hearing 1000 & 1 way to say "hey, pretty lady, isn't it a lonely evening?", so her perception of flirts has been dulled. As for being the one flirting — she'd rather learn more about the person and make genuine compliments.

#Baddieghest should award you with a medal for community support #??????? how do you enable me into writing anything longer than two sentences ???????#no one ever managed to do that; yet you did #how the hell simping gmbh is not forbes top-1 yet #altiera volante #oc ask game

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iamthecomet · 9 months

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I have some ghoulette crochet headcanons for you that have been tormenting me for a while now (in the best way possible)

(Also this is pre Aurora and Aeon, so not leaving her out)

Just read and reply when you feel better/whenever you feel like it!

What if Cumulus loves to crochet?

I recently started crocheting a top for myself and I had SEVERELY underestimated my cup size and got so very frustrated at some point.

So what if Cumulus only crochets for Cirrus and Sunshine, because she gets way to frustrated making pieces for herself because it takes longer? (For her it feels like it takes “fucking ages“?)

And Sunshine notices that after a while, and decides that she wants to crochet something for her. Because she too deserves those nice pieces of clothing. Because she‘s worth putting the time and effort into, even if she herself seems to not think so.

But the problem is, she doesn’t know how to do it. She never crocheted before.

And also, probably due to her ADHD, she gets soo frustrated by every YouTube tutorial she‘s trying to watch. At some point she just stared skipping videos, hoping for someone to get to the point immediately and explain it as quickly as possible, but she just can‘t find a good video.

She‘s sitting in Cirrus‘ room (the one she shares with Cumulus who seems to be occupied by something, probably Dewdrop) and just hides her face behind her knees and starts to cry quietly because she’s so damn frustrated.

Like, she wants to do something nice for Cumulus. Looked up how much she would need and then got beautiful light blue yarn and a fitting hook (the lady in the store had been so nice explaining the sizes to her). But now she’s getting frustrated over not knowing how to crochet and YouTube videos being too slow and annoying.

Cirrus finds her like this, and after a bit of coaxing, she tells her everything. About her plan, about how she’s getting annoyed now and how she wishes she could just ask Cumulus go teach her but how it wouldn’t be a real surprise then.

And Cirrus tells her that they actually learned it together, and while she hasn’t done it in quite a while, she should be able to remember how to do it if she just tries it for a few minutes.

It takes about 5 minutes of the air ghoulette fiddling with the yarn before she feels like she knows what she‘s doing again.

So she explains it to Sunshine, and then shows her everything.

Cirrus feels bad for not thinking of it herself. But she also figures that being mad at herself isn’t going to help at all, so she quickly tries to get over it and tries to be as helpful as possible.

She turns about to be a fantastic help by knowing what clothes fit Cumulus just the right side of tight, so Sunny will know which size to make it exactly.

(And, Cirrus has Cumulus‘ measurements written down, because she simply loves gifting lingerie to her absolute goddess of a girlfriend (she’ll fight anyone telling her that they‘re all a pack and don‘t need to call each other such names, because she loves calling her dear Cumulus her girlfriend. ))

It only takes a few days to make because Cirrus encourages (forces) Sunny to take breaks whenever her hands hurt too much. And also, sometimes it‘s hard to work on something one of the ghoulettes in who’s room she live isn’t allowed to see (even tho the other ghoulette is helping her hide it)

At the end of it, Sunshine holds a beautiful light blue top in her hands that is just the right side of soft.

She puts it in a cute little box and gives it to her while she’s sitting on the common room couch and Cirrus covers her eyes. Then she lets go and Cumulus opens it. She opens it and lifts the top up, immediately praising the color and style.

“Where did you get this?“

“I made it. For you. Because I think you’re worth the time and effort put into crochet pieces. Because you put that effort into pieces for us, but not for you.“

“Sunny- I- thank you“

She holds her arms open and immediately Sunshine crashes into her, pushes herself onto Cumulus‘ lap and kisses her.

After a bit, Lus pauses to ask her something.

“Did you know how to crochet or-“

“I learned it for you. Cirrus helped.“

Cumulus looks over at her mate and she smiles softly. “Come, now go put that on, I’m dying to see you in it!“ she encourages, and she can’t help but agree.

When Cumulus returns to the common room, even the other ghouls in it are stunned to silence.

It hugs her breasts so incredibly nicely and doesn‘t even quite cover her ribcage. Also, Sunny was right about the live contrast.

She looks GORGEOUS in it.

And I believe that Cumulus cried a little during all of this. Whether it was of happiness or overwhelmingly strong emotions of deep love and caring for her ghoulettes, nobody will ever know.

(Yeah, well. I thought writing down my headcanons would be way quicker and shorter than writing a fic xD)

(Also, I’m very tempted to draw Cumulus wearing the top)

- @owlishanon

ASDFJAKSDF My brain is alive again this morning (temporarily I suspect, but I'm not going to question it) so I can finally respond to this as it DESERVES. (Which is honestly, mostly just incoherant screaming and crying because it's so fucking cute and sweet and I LOVE THEM and WOMEN). I'm thinking about how Sunshine bought the yarn. She couldn't go with Cumulus, obviously. Most likely, it happened during free time on tour. Wandering around a city, only hours after suddenly deciding she needed to make Cumulus a top too. She's googling yarn shops, trying to ditch Cumulus and Cirrus while she makes her way there. She definitely drags one of the ghouls along with her, makes up an excuse about why Cumulus doesn't need to come along, and then spends way too long staring at all the different yarns, touching them. Making Dew (we all know it's Dew she drags with her) touch them and tell her which ones he thinks Lus would like best. And then after the lady helps her pick out the right hook, and she gets it back to the bus she shoves it deep into her luggage. She wants to start right now. But she can't risk Cumulus catching her trying to learn crochet online, so she squirrels it away. Waits until they get home. I'm obsessed with Sunshine's determination. That she knows even though it's hard she's got to figure it out. That she has to do this for Cumulus because she deserves it and someone should take care of her for once, god dammit. And of course Cumulus cries. Quietly at first until Sunshine snuggles up to her and then she sobs just a little, looking at Sunshine through tear blurry eyes. Speechless over the idea that someone took all of this time just to make something for her. Sunshine didn't know a single thing about crochet, but now she does all because of Cumulus. Because she thought Cumulus deserved to feel as pretty as she and Cirrus did every time she made them something. And now, when she goes yarn shopping, Sunshine goes with her and makes Cumulus pick out some yarn for herself so that Sunshine can make her more things. Because Cumulus might not have the patience to make things for herself, but Sunshine can't get enough of making clothes for her Lus.

#comet comments #comet canons #ghoul thoughts #WOMEN #Ghoulette thoughts #Cirrus ghoulette #Sunshine Ghoulette #Cumulus Ghoulette #Fiber art Cumulus is one of my favorite headcanons #I adore them and this #Owlish #Owlish your brain is so big and I want to eat it (pos)

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