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the-californicationist · 1 month ago

Note

hi cail! this is sizzleee2 from another account 😅 i was wondering if you could possibly make a fic with anyone from tf141 with fem!reader who immediately after sex feels asexuel and gets a little distant, doesnt need aftercare because shes never had any and then finds out how good aftercare feels??? idk, if you dont want to then no pressure! you r just my favourite writer and i love to read your fics!!

-sk0 <3

I’m slowly making my way through my ask box, and you probably forgot about this but I didn’t! lol 😂 I don’t think I fulfilled this request though. Epic fail on my part. Aftercare?? Maybe. If you squint. I’m so sorry. I just got too horny for Gaz. Forgive me? 🩷🩷

TW: female reader, the expected amount of Kyle sass (see gif)

——— MDNI ———

Tethered

—

The skin-searing warmth of his body left you as he finished, falling away and leaving you cold and lonely. The air of the room rushed across your skin, reminding you that he was done with you. He’d used you, and much like the tarred end of a smoked cigarette, you were filthy, you were wet and sticky from his mouth, and you were no longer smoldering from his burning affection. You had been savored and snuffed out, and that was that.

As soon as his heavy frame rolled off of you, you flung the sheet away and darted into the bathroom, ready to be clean again.

You wished you could be like those girls in the movies; the ones who curled around their emptied lovers, laying her head upon his chest, letting him squeeze and fondle her as he dozed, playing in the sweaty mess of her hairline, skirting his brutish fingers along the slope of her brow.

But you weren’t. You were something else. You weren’t sure exactly what, but your past partners had called you all sorts of things. Low-maintenance. Easy-going. Little Miss Quickie.

“Hey,” the door to the bathroom was wrenched open, and in the dark portal of its frame stood your most recent conquest: Sergeant Kyle Garrick, scowling down at you.

He was still naked, as were you, and now that the sparkling fire of your pleasure had been extinguished, it was less exciting and more practical than it should’ve been. Sure, the heavy musculature of his neck and shoulders were still beautifully aggressive. The broad span of his chest was yet as inviting as it had been at the bar last night. The deep v-cut of his Adonis belt was just as tantalizing, particularly when it lead to a softer, shinier, well-used cock, still dripping desire from its gleaming slit.

“What?” You asked, turning to face him, your washcloth in hand.

“Where’d you go? I’m not done,” he asked.

As Gaz stepped forward into your space, you turned to give him your back, watching him in the mirror, feeling and seeing his enormous arms curling around your shoulders and belly like a giant kraken, ready to pull you back into the sea of his bed.

“You felt done to me,” you shrugged, continuing to wash your face, “Was it not good for you?”

The incredulous look in his eye froze you to the spot, and the suds of your soap foamed and popped across your cheek as you waited for his reply.

He pulled himself away, unwinding himself like ribbon from a spool, slipping through you like sand through loose fingers.

“It was proper brilliant. You know it was. You were there,” he laughed, a hint of bitterness tinging the edge of his mirth, “Am I wrong, babes?” Then, his timbre darkened with a quiet uncertainty, “Am I wrong?”

“No,” you turned to face him, wiping your cheek clean, “It was really nice. It’s not you. I’m just usually Ubering home by now.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, pushing back. But he didn’t shy away. He smiled, almost knowingly, as if he expected you to say as much.

“Not much of a cuddler, is that it?” He smiled a bit wider, reaching his arms around you cautiously, waiting for you to pull away again.

You shook your head, and he held your chin in one of his large fists, lifting you up to face him. He studied you, looking into your eyes as if trying to see your mind working away behind them,

“Want me to show you how?”

You met his gaze, and you didn’t know what expression you wore on your face. It was hard to even describe the emotion you were feeling, much less name it. But, when he looked down at you, he seemed to know.

Gaz grabbed your hand in his and dragged you over to the large shower behind him. He turned the water on hot and coaxed you inside. For a few moments, you thought it may be too warm for you to stand it, but as your skin became accustomed to the steam and the heat, you felt your body relax. He didn’t bother with soaping you up or washing your hair; he simply held you against him, your head tucked into his chest, shadowed by his hulking form, covering you in the oppressive warmth of his affection and the pouring water. It flooded your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more pliant to his whims, more open to suggestion, blooming under his touch like a reluctant bud, afraid of the bite from the frost you knew too well.

Because this wasn’t forever. He’d say goodbye eventually. You’d feel the sting of loneliness one way or another. Better to rip the bandage off now and get it over with. Right?

“Hey, come back,” he held your jaw in his strong fingers, making you meet his eyes again, “That’s it. Stay with me, baby. You don’t need to go anywhere. Don’t need to do anything. Just be here, right now, with me. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know why, but you rejoiced to hear those words. There was something in the way he insisted, something in the comfort of his steady, unhurried embrace that allowed you to melt down into his arms.

When he began to rub you down, chasing the rivulets and currents of the cascading water, you didn’t feel rushed. There was no urgency. He fondled you and caressed you; he squeezed your soft breasts in his palms, but he wasn’t after an orgasm - not yours nor his. He just wanted to touch you.

You felt his hand find your tender pussy, his fingers stretching their way into your hole, still sore from taking his challenging length, still slick from the sticky mixture of your come.His fingertips pressed inside of you, and it was his turn to sigh, his body relaxing into yours, warm to his bones from how joyful he felt at being so welcomed into your hot core.

Pressing your head into his chest, you let yourself live in the moment. You were allowing yourself to be in this steamy limbo with him, feeling him as he was feeling you and yet in no rush to the finish line.

“I’ve got you, babes,” he kissed your forehead, pushing into your cunt even deeper, rocking rather than thrusting his hand against you, letting you grind your hips into the heel of his palm, “I don’t wanna stop. But, if you —“

You shook your head, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt him smile. You whispered into his chest,

“It’s alright. We don’t have to stop.”

“Come back to bed with me, then,” Gaz demanded gently, his voice holding a stronger challenge than it had before, steeled by your precarious consent.

You looked up at him, unsure if you could give him what he wanted, but you were willing to try.

You nodded, and he flipped off the water, reaching out of the door to wrap you in a big towel. You watched him dry off quickly before leading you back to bed. He climbed in before you, turning back the duvet, giving you a shadowy little burrow to stuff your body into. You turned away from him, your back to his chest. You held your breath in your lungs still for a moment, wondering and waiting, but once you felt his skin on your skin, you could relax again.

Reaching behind you, you found his hard prick and guided it so that he would slip between your legs, nestled right below your lips, curving through your chubby thighs and up against your mons. The trembling sigh that came from his throat as his cock slotted itself into place lit a fire in your chest again, reigniting the once-cold embers.

He thrust himself against you, testing the waters, waiting for you to reject his advances, but you canted your hips, letting the wetness of your hole glide against the body of his cock, licking him like a mouth as he rutted between your legs. His tongue was on your neck, his hands were on your breasts and belly, his scent invaded your nose; he was everywhere. You didn’t have a chance to second-guess yourself or your smoldering excitement because he was like the steam from his shower; he suffocated your doubts with his desire.

“That’s my good girl,” he muttered against your kiss-bitten flesh, “Use her on me like that. Just like that.”

Gaz reached down to cup your mons, his fingers cradling his head each time he fucked his cock against your folds, keeping it pressed into the slit of your wet quim, nudging your clit every time he shoved himself forward. You helped him, rocking your hips back and forth, matching his rhythm, listening to the soaked, milking noises your sex was making with him.

“See?” He whispered, slurring his words from the pleasure that he was stoking inside of himself, using you to build his fire back to a high roar, “A cuddle isn’t so bad. That’s why you gotta stay here in bed with me, baby. Give me a chance to get hard for you again, yeah?”

You nodded, moaning in agreement, arching your neck to give him more room to work his mouth on you. He took advantage of it right away, feasting on your sensitive skin, raking his sharp teeth across you like the flat edge of a knife, stinging but not ready to draw blood.

“Wanna take you again. Let me have you,” he snarled, all his gentility burning away against his blazing want.

Before you could so much as whimper his name, his hand pressed down until his cockhead was prodding against the soft mouth of your cunt, waiting for your body to swallow him whole. He held his breath as he dipped inside of you. He went slowly, inching his way through your soaked walls, drowning his long shaft in its familiar sheath, groaning and shaking from the bliss of it.

You twisted your hand in the sheets, nearly screaming from the pleasure, too full to move, overstimulated and yet begging him for more with the hungry grind of your hips.

Then, he used his heavy body to shove you beneath him, rolling you onto your belly, pinning you beneath his chest and wrapping his arms around you, stealing away any chance of your escape. But you didn’t want to escape, not anymore. All of your thoughts had been rewired and rewritten with his ink pen, reminding you that you were his to take.

“Ungh, fuck!” He bit down on the nape of your neck, whimpering in a dark, gravelly tone, “Just like that. Squeeze me, baby. Use that fuckin’ pussy on me.”

“Gaz…” You keened, feeling the edge of your orgasm rising within you like a white-hot sun.

“What?” He snapped a little cruelly, “Still wanna go home? Fuck that. Not done with you, baby. Gonna make this tight little pussy remember the shape of me, yeah? I’ll keep you hungry for it.”

As your legs began to shake, Gaz fucked himself into you even deeper, reaching too far and stretching you too wide, forcing a wall of pleasure to slam into your core, making you clench around him that much harder. You felt yourself flood with your own sticky come, and right at the top of your blinding joy, you heard him hiss against your ear, chuckling in a teasing, devilish tone,

“That’s what I thought. Not goin’ anywhere, are ya?”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod mwii #kyle garrick cod #gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #x female reader #gaz smut #gaz x reader #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #cod smut

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ughdontbeboring · 2 months ago

Text

Sweet boy

Feyd Rautha x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

Yours and Feyds son has a moment and you can’t help your reaction.

warnings none but fluff honestly lol

note: so this was NOT what I was supposed to be working on but I came across it in my notes and just couldn’t stop my fingers 😅 but this is inspired by one of my favorite Feyd arts of him as a child. I’m so upset I can’t find it or the artist. It’s like different drawings of him or his face as a child and he gives the meanest side eye lol so if yall know what im talking about please send it my way so i can tag the artist so others can see it.

If yall like it, love it or fucks with it please share and comment! I love talking to y’all about our mans.

I give no permission for my work to be used anywhere.

it’s fluff and short babe but it’s Feyd so you know 😭 @peggyao3 also again not what I’m supposed to be working on 🥲🥲🥲

⚔️

The day had been long and tedious but you would not trade it for anything when it dwindles down to become this kind of evening. One which you were lucky to say you had often when your husband wasn’t away for diplomatic purposes. Even then you usually all stayed together more often than not.

The large tinted floor to ceiling windows on the right side of the dinning room allowing for a view of the planets setting white sun to shine its last bit of light on your blessed life. The tint allowed the room to stay bathed in all its natural colors. Your skins hue still vibrant against the elegant black dress that you had chosen for the day.

You couldn’t wait to get back to your shared bedchambers and slip into nothing but your silk bed sheets and your husbands arms.

Your eyes drift back to the table you’re seated at with the two loves of your life. Years ago no one could have convinced you THIS would be your life and you’d be the HAPPIEST you’d ever been or could be. None of the of wise women of your home planet could have foretold this. Not even your own visions nor dreams could have conjured enough to convince you this was the life you wouldn’t only lead but love with every once of your being.

But when you take in your husbands jewel blue eyes that are already watching and only soft for you, you smile happily before your eyes slowly land on the beautiful boy sitting before you and to Feyd’s right from the head of the table.

And just as your heart swells with more love than either you and Feyd ever thought possible, a loud laugh erupts from deep within your chest.

You slap a jeweled hand over your mouth to try and contain your laughing from the startled identical faces before you.

You’re in a fit of giggles as you feel both your husband and son’s look of confusion and it only makes you laugh harder.

You miss your husband’s face of pure awe at the sight before him even if he is confused he can’t help but be in awe of the women he somehow convinced to love him as deeply as you do, full of joy.

You wipe at the tears that have started to spill as you catch Feyd soft questioning eyes.

“I-I’m sorry but he looked just like you with his little evil side eye” you reveal in between laughs.

Feyd looks on proudly at your son who’s looking between the both of you with his face scrunched up not fully understanding or liking the attention and laughs at his expense.

Your son had just gave the most evil side eye to the servant who put the extra vegetables on his plate at your request. And all you could see was Feyd. They looked almost identical already and in that moment it was your husband who was a 5 year old boy not wanting to eat the food before him.

And for all the reasons in the world it made your heart happy.

“Looking just like your father” you say again as you control your laughing. You can feel the pride rolling of off both of them. “A grumpy baby”.

“What?!” Your husband yells in disbelief, the fork and meat hanging mid air the same time your son yells his own defense.

“Mother I AM NOT A BABY!” His little voice rages before you with no true anger.

“Don’t raise your voice at your mother” Feyd scolds quickly.

Your all smiles though. This was all you ever needed.

“Yes you are, you are my baby always” You tell him as you take in his little face, the beautiful child you both created. The best of both of you.

He huffs and crosses his little arms across his chest. The angry face he’s trying to pull off is completely identical to his father’s. You could draw it in your sleep the amount of times you’ve seen it over the years.

“Come here” you call to him softly as you push your chair back slightly.

“No” he says trying to stand his ground that he is not a baby.

“Do not tell your mother no” Feyd scolds again watching the two of you go back and forth with eyes full of love. if your husband continues on this path and your sure he will, none of your children will ever tell you no or misbehave with you. Feyd has spoiled you almost rotten, your son has received the same attention from his father. The amount of times he’s done wrong and Feyd has come to his defense, you too but you always stress the he can’t be quick to anger.

He had nothing of yours physically expect for you spiced blue eyes, which you weren’t sure how long they last so blue without a constant exposure to spiced air. You were born to parents who were born to parents and so on and so on for as long as you could say who had been born to and live with spice exposure. It was literally apart of your blood. So it made you happy that was the one thing that couldn’t escape your son who spent most of his time on Giedi Prime. So it made you sad to think about the fact that he could loose it one day but you tried to make frequent enough trips to your home planet to help him keep his Fremen feature and traits.

Feyd allowed him to be born on Arrakis much to a lot of displeasure from some of Giedi Prime. You just couldn’t see giving birth here and raising a child here almost full time, you needed your people, your culture to be apart of his life. Plus you both knew it was the only way for your son to be accepted, he needed to embrace both half’s of who he was if he was going to make a great change one day. Greater change than even you and Feyds union.

It was worth noting all of the people who were displeased with your birthing choice weren’t around anymore to speak on it.

His personality? It was 60/40 usually, him always leaning towards his father’s ways of behavior especially right now. Right now he was 100% his father’s child.

“Come here my sweet boy” you call again.

“Mother I am not a sweet boy! I’m brave and scary” He says as he makes his way around the back of Feyd towards you, very slowly. The posture straight in his small body.

You pull him in quickly once he is in arms reach. Your hands hold his little precious face gently as you plant kisses all over. You can feel his posture slowly start to loosen.

“Yes you are, you may not be sweet to others that is yet to be seen but you will always be sweet to your mother yes?” You ask softly as you stare into his deep eyes that mirror yours.

You hear a small but confident “Yes, always Mother” as all the fight leaves him and he snuggles into your body embracing you back fully. His little arms reaching around your neck and squeezing tightly. Your eyes tear a little and you know it’s just your hormones. You have a couple weeks before your due it’s still been an emotional roller coaster everyday.

You’re so wrapped up in your little boy in your arms you don’t notice your husband. Feyd is over the moon seeing his child get the love he never received. Seeing his wife who he adores more than anything loving their child, his child, a child that looks and acts just like him regardless of what he may have done wrong that day. Your love for him was unconditional.

He loves to see you showering him with love and care even on his bad days when he’s throwing a tantrum.

This was everything Feyd never knew he wanted and needed.

He’d burn everything down to protect this, their little growing family.

⚔️

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starkeyisthelastname · 7 months ago

Text

It’s Always Been You Chapter One

Okay.. so here is the first chapter of my first series. Things will get more exciting! Hope you loves enjoy! 🥰 Things are a little different in this universe and don’t necessarily follow the exact OBX plot line. Here is the back plot for anyone who missed!

Back Plot

Rafe is a total dick to other girls, you’ve been warned. 😅

Chapter One:

The girl below him, whose name he couldn’t remember, let out a loud moan as he shoved himself inside her entirely. He pressed her head down into the mattress, telling her to shut the fuck up. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of her cunt as he tried to get a quick nut in that night. It had been a long work week, and tonight he needed a distraction from wanting to go out and get wasted. It was when he was mid stroke that his phone rang on the bedside table. He went to ignore it, but eyes glanced over the caller ID to see it read your name.

“Hey slut, listen to me. Don’t make a fuckin sound when I answer this..” Rafe spat, smacking the girl’s ass hard before sliding his thumb across the screen to answer.

You had plans to go out that night with some friends, but now we’re laying in bed with your makeup done, pajamas on as they had changed their minds, leaving you alone on a Saturday night. As you held your phone up to your ear, you heard the voice of your best friend answer after a few rings.

“What’s up?” He asked, hips not slowing down as he continued to thrust into the girl. “Club doesn’t sound too busy?” He laughed, hearing the sound of a tv in the background.

You were completely oblivious to Rafe having company, and if you did know then you would have probably shut yourself down tonight not wanting to think about all the girls he constantly was fucking that weren’t you. It was your own fault really, but he had been your best friend since before you two knew what that even meant. You couldn’t ruin your lifelong friendship by telling him you’d been in love with him since you both were teenagers.

“The girls changed their minds, don’t ask me why either because I don’t even know.” You laughed, as you were sure it had to do with one of them wanting to see their boyfriend instead. “But… can you come over? I’m bored… and can you bring food?” You asked with a soft giggle. It was when you heard a faint moan in the back, that your heart sank. That wasn’t his tv, and you knew it by the name Rafe being followed. “I-I’m sorry.. I didn’t know you were busy. Um.. just text me later.” You said, clearing your throat as the last thing you wanted was for him to hear the sad tone in your voice. It was best you hang up the call and quickly.

Rafe barely had time to respond, before the call ended. His thrusts completely came to a stop, no longer caring about his nut as he tossed his phone on the bedside table and pulled out. “Get your shit and get the fuck out of my house.” He said, voice cold as he grabbed his sweatpants from the floor. He hated himself for doing this. Meaningless hook ups to avoid how he felt about his best friend, and his anger only grew as he would have completely dropped this whiny bitch to go over to your place in a heart beat.

The girl sat on the bed, frown on her face as she watched Rafe pull the grey sweatpants over his toned hips and grabbed his vape off the dresser to take a hit of. “B- but, I didn’t cum.” She said with a pout, only to earn a mean laugh from the man that had been inside her the only moments before.

“I told you to the shut the fuck up when I was on the phone, think I care that you didn’t get to cum? Better be out of here by the time I get out of the bathroom.” Rafe said causally, walking towards his connected bathroom, not carrying that she mumbled asshole under her breath.

He was an asshole, always had been. That stemmed from some deeper issues that he didn’t talk about often. The only ones who knew about his mental health problems were his family and you, something no random girl would ever understand. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before slamming his fist on the marble counter of the sink. Why was he continuing this torture on himself? Why was he such a pussy about telling you how he felt?

You heard the beep of the alarm, signaling someone had unlocked the front door. There was only a few people who knew the code, your parents, Sarah, Wheezie and Rafe. Walking down the stairs of your townhome, you saw his tall figure stepping in quietly, a bag of food in his hand. You took a sigh, stepping onto the hardwood floor as you looked at him. You wanted to be mad at him, but you couldn’t. There was no reason to be. Right? He was just doing what Rafe Cameron did.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had your little girlfriend over.” You asked, trying to hide the obvious jealousy in your voice. Your fuzzy slippers glided over to where he stood, taking the food sack from him and turning around to head into the living room. You heard him chuckle behind you, but didn’t look back as you plopped yourself onto the couch.

“Not my fucking girlfriend.” Rafe snorted, throwing his keys on the coffee table. “You know I don’t do serious shit.” He said, collapsing down next to you as you pulled the food out from the bag. He didn’t do committed relationships as he was far too busy working at his father’s company, trying his best to become the man he needed to be. In an out of jail, high off blow and after nearly killing someone, he was trying to do right for the people he loved and more importantly himself. The only committed relationship he was willing to be in was with you, that was if he ever manned up enough to tell you.

As you unwrapped your food, you couldn’t help but feel your heart clench at that statement. For as long as you’d known Rafe he’d never dated anyone longer than a month. He was too selfish to be tied down and after everything he had went through during his coke fiend, you knew his focus was work and trying to stay clean. You just wondered if he would ever want anything serious when it came to you.

“And you really thought that bitch was important enough for me to skip coming to hang out with my best friend?” He asked, stealing a fry as he leaned back against the cushion.

Best friend.. and that’s all you would probably would ever be to him. You brushed the thought away, slapping his hand away as he started to reach for another fry. “Why didn’t you just get something if you planned on stealing my food?” You asked with a laugh as he pretended to look hurt that you slapped his hand.

Rafe always seemed to have a stick up his ass for the most part, a brooding look constantly on his handsome face. You knew it was hard for Rafe to let down the wall of being vulnerable, or even his funnier side. You felt lucky that you got to see the side of him that not a lot of people got to experience.

“I just wanted a couple, damn. It’s the least I can get for waiting in that long ass line for some damn chicken strips.” He scoffed, muttering about how the worker was an asshole anyway.

You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of one as he pulled his vape from the pocket of his hoodie to take a hit off. “Please tell me you aren’t gonna complain this much on family vacation.” You said, jokingly, meeting his blue eyes you loved so much as you looked up at him.

Blowing out the cloud of flavorful smoke, he rolled his own eyes before leaning his head back against the couch. “Don’t fucking remind me, that my dad picked fucking Disney World of all places.” He said with a grumble, shuddering at the idea of all the kids he was going to have to be around for 7 days.

It had been a tradition every summer for as long as you could remember that both of your families took a trip together. The first one of this year being Disney World, which you were excited for. Rafe on the other hand would rather go anywhere else than the happiest place on earth.

“Wheezie’s been begging to go for years and we’ve always gone elsewhere. Let your sister be happy.” You said, knowing the thirteen year old hardly got to choose anything that she wanted to do as she was the youngest out of everyone.

“She’s 13. Don’t you think she’s a little old for Mickey Mouse or some bullshit.” Rafe said, eyes traveling back to you. The way you looked so effortlessly beautiful, having washed your face free of makeup. Your hair on top of your head in a messy bun, and cute little set pink pajama set on that hugged those gorgeous curves. He wanted to groan, not only from the thought of leaving for Orlando in a few days but also that he wanted you more than anything he ever wanted in his life. Rafe pretty much got whatever his heart desired, except having you as his girl.

“You are never too old for Disney.” You told him, matter of factly as you continued to eat, completely clueless to the fact his cerulean eyes were bored into you as he watched you.

Rafe let out a small chuckle, shaking his head at the fact you and everyone else seemed to be thrilled about visiting a place he didn’t find so magical. “Are you that excited princess?” He asked, the nickname one you were used to but still felt butterflies when he said it.

Swallowing a bite, you looked up at him to meet his gaze with a nod to your head. Disney was the place where dreams came true and maybe there you would finally have the courage to tell your best friend that you were in love with him.

tag list: @alinavalentine

let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🌺

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #best friend!rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe concepts #rafe fluff #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx #outer banks

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blackenedsnow · 4 months ago

Note

If you’re lookin’ for requests could we get a continuation of your Beetlejuice fic? Like, what sorts of things does Beej do through the house/apartment to prank you? What’s he do when/if you have to leave to go to work? I imagine he’d tag along incognito sometimes. How would that go? (I don’t send many fic requests so if this is a weird way to do it I’m sorry. But I figured if you’re asking for them I can brainstorm a little 😅)

dead guys got it made

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Reader

NOTE: No need to apologize! I love the direction you're taking with this. I'd be happy to continue the story!!

SUMMARY: Chaos ensues, of course

PART ONE: Here

The days after your reluctant agreement to let Beetlejuice stay in your home were, in a word, chaotic. He seemed to take your "don’t destroy the place" comment as more of a suggestion than an actual rule. Sure, he didn’t tear down walls or summon any maggots (yet), but there was plenty of mischief to go around.

You woke up one morning to find your living room furniture rearranged—your couch upside down on the ceiling, the TV somehow playing reruns of sitcoms from the ‘80s, and the floor covered in what looked like tiny plastic insects. You groaned, rubbing your temples as Beetlejuice appeared next to you, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Pretty good, huh?" he asked, looking up at the couch hanging from the ceiling. "Took me all night, but I think it really adds to the ambiance."

"BJ," you muttered, staring at the mess, "how many times do I have to tell you? No messing with the furniture."

He cackled, snapping his fingers. Instantly, the room righted itself—couch back on the floor, TV back to normal. But the plastic bugs? Still there. "Alright, alright, no more redecorating. But I gotta keep things interesting, babes. Can’t have you getting bored, now can we?"

You bent down to scoop up the bugs, sighing. "I’m starting to think my life was less stressful before you showed up."

"Ah, but way more boring," Beetlejuice quipped, following you into the kitchen as you grabbed a coffee mug. "Admit it, you’d miss me if I wasn’t around to spice things up."

You ignored him, focusing instead on your workday ahead. “I’ve got to head to work soon,” you said, mostly to yourself, as you filled your mug. “You’re staying here today, right?”

“Sure, sure,” he said with a wave of his hand, leaning against the counter. “I’ll be good. Maybe I’ll watch some TV, raid your fridge, haunt your neighbors—you know, normal dead guy stuff.”

You shot him a look, trying to gauge how much of that was a joke. You were still figuring him out, trying to balance how much you could tolerate and how much you liked having him around. It was… complicated. But lately, the thought of leaving him alone in your home was almost more stressful than having him tag along. Still, you weren’t sure you could handle Beetlejuice at work, of all places.

"Alright," you said, setting your mug down, "I’ll trust you. Just… try not to haunt anyone this time, okay?"

Beetlejuice smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Cross my heart, babe,” he said, drawing a line over his chest. You didn’t trust that for a second, but you had no choice but to leave him behind and head out.

At Work

Everything seemed fine at first. You settled into your routine, the normalcy of it all providing a brief reprieve from your unusual houseguest. But then, halfway through the morning, you noticed something off.

Your pen was missing. And not just missing—floating midair, inches from your hand.

"Beetlejuice.," you hissed under your breath, scanning the room for any sign of him. Sure enough, from the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar flash of black and white dart behind a filing cabinet.

Of course he’d followed you. You should’ve known.

“Get back here,” you muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else saw the floating pen.

Suddenly, Beetlejuice appeared right next to you, leaning against your desk with a smug grin. He was dressed in some sort of disguise—a ridiculous pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap that didn’t hide anything. “Nice place you got here, babe. Real lively.”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “I told you to stay at home.”

“Yeah, well, I got bored,” he said with a shrug. “Thought I’d see how my favorite breather spends their day.”

“This is not going to end well,” you mumbled, already dreading the inevitable..

The At-Work Antics

Beetlejuice, to his credit, tried to behave—for all of five minutes. Then the pranks began. It started small: pens going missing, your keyboard typing random words on its own. But as the day wore on, he grew bolder.

At one point, your boss, Mr. Thompson, came by to drop off some news. You tried to stay focused, nodding along as he talked, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw Beetlejuice sneaking up behind him, his eyes full of mischief.

"Don’t," you mouthed, but it was too late.

With a flick of his hand, Beetlejuice made Mr. Thompson’s tie start dancing—literally. The fabric wriggled and twisted as though it had a life of its own, and you watched in horror as your boss froze, staring down at his tie in confusion.

“What the—” Mr. Thompson muttered, tugging at the tie, but it kept moving.

You shot Beetlejuice a death glare, mouthing “Stop it” as discreetly as possible. He just winked, looking way too pleased with himself, and finally let the tie drop limp again.

Mr. Thompson blinked, bewildered, but seemed to shake it off. “Must be static or something,” he muttered before walking off, completely unaware of the ghostly trickster behind him.

You exhaled in relief. “Beej, I swear…”

“Hey, I didn’t get caught, did I?” Beetlejuice cackled, clearly enjoying himself. “Lighten up, honey. You gotta admit, that was funny.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” you hissed, though you couldn’t completely stifle the laugh bubbling up in your chest.

For the rest of the day, Beetlejuice stayed close, pulling small pranks here and there. A co-worker’s coffee inexplicably turned neon green, another’s stapler kept vanishing from their desk. Every time you saw that flash of stripes, your heart raced in equal parts anxiety and amusement.

After Work

By the time you made it home, you were exhausted. Beetlejuice had finally vanished, likely slipping back to your home long before you could leave. When you walked through the door, he was sprawled across the couch as usual, looking far too smug.

“Fun day at work?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re a menace,” you muttered, dropping your bag on the floor. “A complete and utter menace.”

“And yet, you didn’t banish me,” he shot back, his grin widening. “So… you really do love having me around.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t quite argue with him. As frustrating as it was having him tag along—and as much as he drove you crazy—you had to admit, life was a lot less lonely with him in it.

“Maybe,” you muttered, flopping onto the couch beside him. “Just… try not to get me fired next time, alright?”

Beetlejuice chuckled, tossing an arm around your shoulders. “No promises, toots. But I’ll try not to ruin your life.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #keatlejuice #keatlejuice x reader #tim burton #tim burton x reader #oneshot #x reader #ask #request

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hughiecampbelle · 5 months ago

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Cornered (Homelander Oneshot)

Character/s: Homelander

Word Count: 1,645

Requested: Hi! Can I request Homelander x reader with the prompts “Engagement” and “I missed you”? I haven’t requested anything from anyone in awhile so I hope I’m doing this right 😆 - anon

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long my love! Writing fics has been especially hard lately. I have so many great requests, so many good ideas, but I hate everything I write and I just don't want to post something I'm unhappy with. I'm still not 100% over this, but rewriting it over and over just ends up making it worse unfortunately 😅 Writers block is so frustrating and makes me feel awful. Thank you for being so patient and I really hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

I missed you. His room is completely destroyed. Mirrors shattered, statues broken, furniture in flames. And he stands in the middle, perfectly untouched, unphased, arms stretched outward. He expects a hug. He expects a lot of things. You step over the debris, inhaling the scent of smoke, of burning, mazing through the mess towards him. It’s too quiet. Aside from the crackling of the fire, it eats through the fabric, the stuffing of the couch, you could hear a pin drop. This place had always been eerie, but it was downright frightening. His smile is wide, unfaltering. He wraps himself around you, his hand raising to cradle the back of your head, pressing you into him. He never learned to be gentle. He never learned to hug someone like he likes them. He does it out of ownership, control. He does it so that you cannot fight back. You squeeze your eyes shut, imagining a different life, a different love, anything but this. Your arms stay still at your side. I missed you so much, he says again as a sign in relief. He doesn’t wait for you to respond. He’s learned, over the years, that conversations like this lack a back and forth. They are one sided. He talks to himself. Sometimes he’s okay with it. Sometimes he’s not. At this moment, he is the latter. I missed you so much. Is he talking to himself? Responding to himself? Is he trying to comfort himself? Did you miss me? This is a test. Unable to speak, to find your voice, you nod. You make sure he can feel you do this. Good, he smiles, that's good. You did good. You passed. This time.

It’s hard to remember a time before this. There was a childhood. An adolescence. Young adulthood. There had to be. People didn’t just wake up one day, existing instantaneously. You had to have had a family, friends, some sort of education. There are glimpses of that, of a person who lived, who looked like you, who is long gone. A best friend you shared crayons with. Maybe they were colored pencils. All you see is the colors, the dimpled hands of small children grabbing greedily at the cyan blue or cherry red. You don’t know what you were drawing, or who this other person was, only that, for a few seconds at least, you had a friend. Someone who cared about you, perhaps even loved you. There is a car ride. You’re big enough to sit in the passenger seat. It’s bright outside, green, probably Spring. The window is cracked open, the breeze kissing your face, the sunlight beaming down through the branches of the tree lined street. A feminine voice is talking to you. Her words are muffled, her tone malleable. Sometimes she sounds happy, on the verge of laughter. Other times she’s annoyed, frustrated. The scenery never changes. It is always nice out. It was always warm. You like to think of her as your mother. A maternal figure concerned for your safety, pleasantly surprised about a good grade, tired of your attitude. You’d take it all, needy for validation. A father, you’re sure, slamming a door. There’s a suitcase on the floor, between you. You’re not sure who takes ownership over it. There is yelling, a language you don’t recognize. He vibrates, his anger cartoonish. What did you do to deserve this? Are you leaving or is he? You’re older than you were in the car ride. You’re not sure how you know, only that you do. There is no beginning or end, just snippets of the middle. How does this play out, you wonder. You could come up with a story. He’s leaving and you’re trying to stop him. You’re leaving and he’s trying to stop you. You’re not sure which is better.

There are glimpses of the past. Yours, you assume, though the line between reality and fantasy has long been gone, worn away with time and desperation. A taste of normalcy. You imagine you lived in a small town in the middle of the country, somewhere bleak and boring, somewhere you could have been extraordinary. You imagine a child version of yourself dreaming of this future down to the last detail. You wake up each morning in his bed, in his place, at the top of the tower. For a few cloudy seconds you view this world from the perspective of a stranger: there is an engagement ring on your finger, the space beside you in the bed is empty, the room you occupy is grand and expensive looking. The person who lives here, who found love, who has everything they could ever want, should be happy, right? And then, like a slap across the cheek, stinging, it hits you: you are that person. So why aren’t you happy? Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this what you asked for? Dreamed of?

The haze ends your first weeks after joining The Seven. Reporters, cameras flashing, overwhelmed by voices and snapshots and microphones. You smile, doing your best to hear a question between the mumbling of the crowds. A hand pulls you through the chaos, leading you to salvation. Safely inside, he laughs, congratulating you. There’s a light in his eyes that is warm, safe. You can’t believe he’s giving you attention, let alone complimenting you. You thank him. He’s there again, behind you, a hand on your shoulder. It was reassuring at the time, a way to show solidarity between veteran and rookie heroes. Your voice shakes, fear and anxiety radiating through you. You’d never had your own press conference before. It was after a big save, though. Everyone stood back, letting you in the limelight. You debuted a new suit, a new identity, letting your name fade away. Even now it sounds alien to you. The person you were and the person you are are disconnected, isolated. It’s been years since you’ve heard someone say it. Hearing it in passing is no longer startling, it no longer grabs your attention. It’s lost all meaning.

This was years ago. You were still fresh faced. His touch was new, exciting. His affections were innocent, friendly. This world was bright and shiny. It’s lost its excitement. It’s lost its appeal. The warmth in his eyes turned hot, burning, furious. The last time you fought they glowed red, a warning that he was not fucking around. How long ago was that? Weeks, maybe months. You’ve been good. You do as you’re told. You smile when you need to. You kiss him. You pose. You show off your ring. The story was breaking news, running through the cycle the past few days: Homelander popped the question and you said yes! You don’t recognize yourself in the interviews. You don’t recognize him either. You’re happy, laughing easily, talking about wedding plans. The interviewer, a woman with lipstick on her teeth, asks about the future. Oh, you say. The mask slips. You hadn’t thought about the future. Years now you spent getting through the moment, the minute. You didn’t have it in you to think ahead. You couldn’t. You knew what it looked like, what he’d want from you, what you’d have to give up. Not just a name or a past. That was easy. That’s what you thought you wanted. This was a lifetime. A lifetime of fear, threats, and silence. Oh, you say, and it all comes at once, the realizations wrapping their hands around your throat. He squeezes your hand, talking for the both of you, filling the silence like a pro. She turns her attention towards him, recovering quickly. No one even noticed. It’s better today. You dress. You sit through meetings. You disappear into the background, watching everyone instead of being part of it. You don’t think too much. You’re not overwhelmed by the idea of raising his children, of spending your time secluded with him, in his shadow. You’re not disgusted by the ring on your finger or the way he kisses you. The bruises strategically placed where fabric covers do not ache as bad as they did yesterday. It’s better today. It’s manageable. Ashley goes over the next few weeks: wedding planning, florists, musicians, guests, wardrobe, cake tasting. There was so much, and yet so much was missing. A mother to cry. A father to walk you down the aisle. Friends. She wanted every part of this decision making televised. It would be the wedding of the century. She goes down the list and you only have it in you to nod. Where was Homelander? Why wasn’t he being bombarded by color palettes and types of icing and venues? It wasn’t really up to you, anyways. You could pretend. You could make decisions: a lighter palette by the ocean with raspberry cake and vanilla frosting. You could plan it all, but he would always have final say. She’s still talking, going on and on about how you’ll wear your hair and the amount of cameras, who is and isn’t allowed to drink, but you’re not really listening. You’re sinking back into the chair. You’re taking it one breath at a time. In, out. Maybe there was a before. Before him, before all this, but it’s long gone. From the moment he saw you he knew you would be his. You would do as you were told. You would follow orders. And in return, you would lose yourself. Yeah that sounds good, you say, though you’re not really listening. You’re far away from yourself, the room, the world. It was better today. The weight of what’s happened. The more she speaks, the greater the feeling becomes: dread blossoming in the middle of your chest. You were trapped. You could scream and cry all you wanted, this place was a cage and Homelander held the key.

#requested #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander oneshot #homelander drabble #the boys #the boys drabble #the boys oneshot #the boys x reader

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zepskies · 7 months ago

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The Boys S4: Is it just me or...

Okay, anyone who knows me knows I love this show. And I don't mean to be overly critical, but...there's something missing for me in season 4. 🤔

Episode 4 brought me back in a bit more this week, but I have thoughts and just wanted to get them out. Which of course you don't have to agree with, if you so choose to dive below the cut. 😂

So here we go! Highlights and lowlights (and **spoilers**): ⤵️

Sorry in advance for my slightly stream of conscious-style thought process.

Lowlights (so far):

Kimiko x Frenchie: Violently pushing down something you built up for 2.75 seasons? Because "being more than that/family" can also be romantic? Why do you hate the fans, Kripke? 😂

The political "satire" is getting a bit old for me. A lot of the same jokes over and over. However, the problem of taking out Victoria Neuman is a very intriguing conundrum (and Bob Singer sweating over it while trying to keep supes out of the military/law enforcement is keeping me hooked).

THAT Rob scene: lmfao come on now. This was for gross shock value and nothing else. Even the exploding dick and Love Sausage in S3 served a narrative purpose. (But I enjoyed the footnote commentary while watching it on Prime: Rob B. apparently wants to remind everyone that he's a Shakespearean-trained actor. 🤣) I’m actually more disappointed that he didn’t have a more meaningful role in the show, because he really is a fantastic actor and I was looking forward to seeing what his character would bring. (Not that lmao.)

Overall, the season just feels...emptier than seasons 1-3? Maybe that has to do with the lack of Soldier Boy's gravitas as a new antagonist, and connecting the entire narrative and various conflicts of the season -- all while shedding light on the grisly past of Payback, Grace Mallory, and Stan Edgar. Stormfront also brought that ante up in season 2 in a similar way, all while shedding light on Vought's sordid history with the creation of Compound V.

We're missing the layers here in season 4. Now, this could just be because we haven't seen the full season yet as well, but that's what I see so far.

I think it also has to do with the odd dynamic the boys side is in right now. With Butcher on the fringe of the group, and the others splintered off on their own side plots, it feels like the supes' side of things are more...for lack of a better term, "unified" in the narrative.

Which I realize is probably to reverse parallel the state of each side in season 3. But it just feels "off" to me somehow, since we're supposed to be just as invested in the boys side lol.

Highlights:

Butcher and Ryan: Butcher's doing his best there now, and it soothes my heart.

Ryan's slowly seeing the consequences of his choice to join Homelander. In fact, I'm wondering where Ryan is in episode 4. Hiding in his room?

The Khan Worm that appears to be inside Butcher is both frightening and intriguing. I wonder if this is the key to saving his life? Or just another lovely side effect of taking V24 long term. 🐛

JDM (Joe) and Butcher: All their scenes were golden. And that subtle John Winchester reference? Being willing to train up his son to be a killer? Being able to grieve at his son's funeral, knowing he "saved the world?" *Chef's kiss* 🤌🏽

(And if Butcher or Joe end up being the one to break Soldier Boy out of his cryo coffin, my fangirl heart will freak TF out. 🤣)

The way that Homelander is noticing his age is fucking hilarious. Bet you wish you had that life longevity from your father/sperm donor, dont'cha? 😂

But also the way Homelander "confronted" his past in E4 had some truly WTF/Holy Shit™️ moments, in a good way. As in, I'm once again afraid of this unhinged psychopath--kind of way. 😅

A-Train continuing to struggle internally with the place he's fought so hard to keep in the Seven, versus recognizing the evil around him, his own complicity, wanting forgiveness from Hughie, and wanting a true connection with others (namely his family).

It's interesting that Hughie's mom is being brought back in at this time. And even MORE interesting that she seems to be the one who gave her ex-husband Compound V. Her story of why she left her family seemed so normal that I actually got a little suspicious of her. But now, even more so. 🤨

M.M. doing his fucking best. (Except for the way he suddenly had a change of heart about Butcher in E4. Not sure about that one.)

Tilda effing Swinton voicing Ambrosius. PLEASE. My Queen. 😭🤣🤣

I actually had more lowlights before I watched episode 4. There were some really interesting moments that literally had me gasping in shock (this time in a good way), more so than in the first 3 episodes. However, I still think seasons 1-3 were stronger from the get-go.

But even with my lingering reservations, now I'm actually more so looking forward to getting into the meat of the season in this second-half coming up. 👏🏽

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justevelynnnn · 1 year ago

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“Accidentally” sending Nerd!Armin a thirst trap🤭🥴

Notes: Sorry for slow updates but i’ve been busy with work and school is abt to start soon so it’s probably gonna get worse😭

Cw: nsfw, suggestive texting

- After a few weeks of hanging out and calling late at night of course you guys get comfortable with each other!

- School started getting serious as it was getting closer to mid terms so you and Armin stop calling each other so late.

- You kinda missed it ngl

- And so did he😭

- But you guys just stuck to the new routine of saying good night through text, maybe a “how was your day”.

- One day you just wanted to spice things up!

- Your poor smart boy had his nose in textbooks and notecards every day and you could tell he was just so stressed out from studying all day. He had such a strong work ethic he would forget to take breaks and relax his brain💔

- “Why do you study so much?? You could pass these exams with yo eyes closed!” You exclaimed.

- He just calmly responded with, “How do you think i got so smart to begin with?” And then he’d go back to read his books while you playfully rolled your eyes.

- So anyways you just wanted to cheer him up…

- Sooooo you “accidentally” send him a cute little mirror pic.

- The plan was to play it off like it was meant for your friend as you were “trying out” a new one piece you bought and wanted an opinion.

- Omfg i’m so sorry! You’d texted him. That was meant for someone else 😭😭

- Armin heard his phone go off next to him as he was starting his next group of flash cards.

- When he opened his phone to see the message he never felt his face so hot in his LIFE.

- He damn near got one of those anime nosebleeds.

- He never noticed…how fine you were…

- He was so lucky he met you. That was the moment he realized he had to have you. But not yet of course. He decided to play it off…

- Oh, it’s fine!😅 He replied and followed with a, You look nice…

- You smiled big at his response. You just knew he was blushing like crazy at this pic you sent him.

- Thank you, Min min😘❤️

- You’d spend time apologizing for interrupting

- Armin couldn’t stop stareing at your pic all night. He couldn’t think about anything else but you in that one piece. Armin never really felt this way about anyone before. You made him feel like he was going crazy.

- Yeah, he just had to make you his.

Notes: This has been in my drafts for like months 😭👋🏾 idk where to go from here right now tbh but here’s another continuation of my nerd armin series

#nerd armin #aot x black reader #armin x black reader #black reader #armin attack on titan #armin arlet x reader #armin x reader #armin imagines #nerd armin x black reader #armin x black !fem reader #x black fem reader #aot x reader #aot x poc!reader #nerd armin arlert

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btsmosphere · 7 months ago

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 12: Into The Depths

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: If you aren't cut out to be part of the group, then you’ll just have to go it alone.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 7.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, also physical violence, swearing, guilt, arguing, self-doubt, blood, injury, near-drowning

a/n: the warnings on this chapter may tell you that there's quite a lot in store... and after you all loved last week's found family wholesomeness last week, I really hope you're not mad😅

You were beginning to think Kuyang had had it very lucky. The current ‘lab’ you occupied looked more like a bunker to you.

No windows in sight, you instead had to stare at an array of screens displaying the outside world. Waiting.

You moved your fingers idly, blue static crackling between each one. Though you trained your eyes attentively on the ‘view’ beyond the heavy concrete wall, you couldn’t suppress the itch. You knew you weren’t the only one. You had trained, you could fight, but still all you were able to do was react to Bolt’s every whim with no way to anticipate him.

That was Namjoon’s department, though.

Only a tap of your toes belied your otherwise calm, level gaze as you scanned the images.

At the very least, you were here in advance this time. No rushing halfway across the city on an emergency call. This lab housed some kind of weapon, the ‘shield rifle’, and though you had seen it only in pictures, you had to admit it looked a useful piece of kit. The forcefield spheres it fired could be used both for attack and defence. Something you wanted kept on your side. So, for whatever connection had tipped you off this time, you tried to be grateful.

That is, if the threat turned out to be real after all.

A dart of movement made you blink not a second later, half convinced it had been a figment of your restless mind. But no. It was like they had been waiting for your doubt to begin so they could laugh at you.

Hastily regathering your focus, more figures crept into the frame, confirming what you had first seen. A hungry smirk quirked your mouth as you lifted your receiver to your lips.

“I can see four people outside exit C,” you told them, “don’t think they’ve spotted us, though.”

“Copy that. Anyone else got movement?” Jin asked swiftly after.

“Nothing yet.” Jimin.

“Hm, Yoongi, can you get around to Y/N?” Namjoon instructed, “I’m not seeing any other action yet. But stay alert.”

“On the way,” Yoongi said simply.

Beside the screens was a thick door, barely distinguishable from the blank wall. Eager eyes glancing towards it, your feet couldn’t resist a step closer to where action soon promised to bloom.

Were they really that clueless? You almost felt sorry for Bolt’s warriors as you saw them sneak closer, oblivious to the fact they were already unders surveillance, directly in your line of sight. One of them crouched, producing some kind of tool.

You rolled your neck. So they were going to break down the door? They sure were making it simple for you; maybe you could be persuaded to go easy on them.

“You seeing this?” you asked the receiver.

“You ready?” was Namjoon’s response.

Before you could respond, the screens went dark. Smart move – or it would be, if you hadn’t already clocked them.

Yoongi couldn’t be far away. Another confident step took you towards the door, your powers now thrumming in your veins.

Sure enough, the door juddered, before rising from the ground. A bracing breath and you were ready, on your toes. The intruders didn’t fire yet, though. You would have to let them come for you.

“Wait!” a cry crackled through the radio on your hip. Cursing, you snatched at it, hoping your position hadn’t been given away.

“There’s someone else-”

No sooner had you time to frown than a cacophonous crash sounded, somewhere distantly on your left. Even through all the layers of concrete, it rumbled, stirring horror low in your chest.

Backing away several paces, your eyes darted urgently between the slowly raising doorway and the far end of the corridor, beyond which something bigger had just happened.

What was that? The question was on your lips without you thinking it, the only clear thing among a rush of panic that brought your friends’ faces spinning through your mind. Your hallway suddenly felt so isolated, its darkness stretching out either side of you.

But the words never passed your lips.

The moment your receiver was at your mouth, it exploded with noise again.

“Shit-” you had never heard Hope curse before, “Monsoon’s here.”

Your eyes widened. That was a name you had yet to make an acquaintance with. But you knew it alright. Monsoon was a title you had only ever read side-by-side with Bolt in the papers.

“Y/N,” Namjoon’s decisive tone cut through your reeling thoughts, “deal with the first lot. Everyone else, get to exit A and get this fucker out.”

So you stalked forwards, impatiently lifting one arm to finish the door’s ascent. As your powers met the resistance of the concrete, you gritted your teeth and pushed through, lightning gushing from your palm to haul the door aside, leaving you framed in the doorway.

The people from earlier backed away from the door as you finally faced them.

They clutched familiar weapons. The one closest to your shifted their gun defensively, drawing your attention.

“Please, let’s not,” you said flatly, “I have better things to be doing. Though I’m sure you know that.”

It crossed your mind that this lot had likely been a purposeful distraction. Yet more of Bolt’s fodder.

One of them shot a nervous glance to their neighbour. That was the only movement, making you scowl, eyes rolling.

“That yours?” you asked blithely, tilting your head to a van a short way to the right.

You watched with dark amusement as their heads followed your direction. And then your patience snapped. Letting loose a burst of blue power, an extension of you, it closed like a fist around the van and tossed it skywards with an ease that made you smile.

It arced over the group, suspended, for a moment.

Then you brought it slamming back to earth, right at their feet. Close enough to force them scrambling back, away from you. The force cracked the road, blue sparks skittering through trenches carved from impact.

You glared at them through the blue trails of light leaping and sparking from the wrecked vehicle.

They ran.

Feet still planted in the same spot, you waited just long enough to be sure they were really going for good, before you caved to what you had been itching for this whole time.

Turning on your heel, you raced back inside. Yoongi had probably already passed you by, hidden safely until he needed to be. A restless force took you tearing through the place alone towards the main entrance, where Monsoon must have attacked. Looked like they weren’t going for subtlety with this one.

Another abandoned doorway was a blur as you raced on. Another corner and noise reached your ears. Another step, and you were forced to a skidding halt.

Up ahead, a door slammed shut.

Hurriedly shooting a lightning blast at the solid surface, you were poised to run straight through – but nothing moved.

Behind it, you could hear crashes, a brief roar like flames, a rush like waves. When something collided directly with the other side of the door, you slammed your palms against it in frustration. You needed to get in there, help your team!

The communications had dissolved, an incomprehensible exchange blaring back and forth through your radio. Some instructions from Jin, cut off by a cry by Jimin, before a breathless Hope only got half a sentence out. Clearly called back by the fray. You couldn’t bear to be so close, yet helpless.

Giving it one more try, you watched your powers glide fruitlessly around the doorway’s seams, fizzling out.

Grabbing at the receiver, you called into it.

“I can’t get through! How do I open this thing?!”

Namjoon’s voice of reason never answered you. No-one answered you.

Just the echoing collisions of things you couldn’t see, beyond this unfeeling barrier. You were panting harder than ever despite having stopped running. Were they ok?

You needed to get in there.

Breathing out harshly, you stepped back and squared your shoulders. With the strength of your worry filling you, your impatience to help, you summoned as much as you could muster-

And fired.

Jungkook’s familiar shouts from the training room steeled your mind even more. You had honed this power with him, and now you could use it.

The shock of blue connected this time, illuminated your face and the corridor like welding fire as you concentrated it on your obstacle. You felt the kickback but leaned into it, only digging your heels in harder.

For one moment, the electricity grew taught between you and the door, straining like it was solid-

Then it gave way.

The door smashed inwards. Without a second’s hesitation, you strode forwards into the carnage laid out before you.

The space you had entered earlier was in ruins, chunks of the wall lying on the ground in rippling pools of water, electricals hanging, frayed and sparking, from the ceiling. Daylight was thrown inside from the wide open main door, though the smaller ones around the space still lay shut. Oddly, there was none of the purple fire that your group usually left in your wake.

You were about to find out why.

You had quickly scoped out the figures dotted throughout the space: some running, some firing, some just staggering up from the ground. And only one you didn’t recognise.

The hero wore white, starkly standing out against the battered bunker.

In the opposite corner, a fierce plume of purple flame roared to life, silhouetting the stranger. The next instant, the man struck, a torrent of water following his movements and drenching the fire to ash.

V was leaping out of its path, caught mid-air by the blurred form of Hobi. V was dropped to safety on a pile of rubble in a blink. Then Hope kicked off the wall in a one-eighty, landing with one hand on the ground in front on Monsoon.

Then Hoseok charged. Monsoon staggered and dodged, struggling to track the man who ran circles around him. Suddenly, the hero held his arms out, stumbling even more cluelessly. In your hurry towards the action, you spotted a cloud of shadow hovering at his eyes. Yoongi.

Monsoon stopped.

Then the tsunami hit.

Throwing his arms out, Monsoon summoned a ring of water that frothed with white. It hurtled straight for you – straight for everyone – knocking you back in a winding blow. Hobi was struck from the air, even his lightning pace unable to outrun the wall of waves.

Your back never even hit the ground. Churning water turned you over, and you found yourself stumbling to your feet, running in the total opposite direction.

Gasping from the unexpected impact, you collided with something else.

Someone.

Hands grasped your upper arms firmly, keeping you on your feet as you blinked away the slew of water. You looked up into the face of Jungkook.

Brows drawn, he scanned you swiftly. Then he was pulling you back, both of you retreating from Monsoon, who stood taller in the centre once more. His mask gleamed white again, eyes now rid of darkness.

Misguidedly, your eyes hunted for Yoongi. Of course, you didn’t find him. You hoped him being invisible meant he was still alive in here somewhere.

Jungkook’s hands loosened, making you glance back to him. His eyes had left you, focussed somewhere distant.

“What the…?”

Following his look, words stopped in your throat too.

The small doors, the ones which led inside, to the very lab you were defending… were sliding open.

All of them.

“What… ppening…?” your waterlogged radio spit out panicked fragments of Jin’s voice, “I locked these-”

And as you noticed, Monsoon was not far behind.

Hobi was first off the mark, already in front of the man. He dodged one canon-like column of water, successfully knocking Monsoon to the side, but he wasn’t so lucky the second time. Hurrying to support him, a boulder flew overhead, and you were running.

Jungkook’s hand at your back urged you on before you disconnected, running in step towards the enemy.

Jimin’s projectile found its mark, landing solidly in the doorway Monsoon headed for, but the man simply lifted his palms and a flood carried it away before the next could pile up. And the same flood gathered around the hero, carrying him on faster as he deflected another blow from Hope.

Behind him, you plunged forwards into ankle-high water which only deepened the closer you got to the man himself.

A sharp golden streak caught Monsoon unawares. Falling sideways, off-course, he was slammed against the wall beside the opening. Jungkook leapt into the air a moment later, Monsoon’s next shot falling between the two of you.

While you dived out of its path onto the ground, Jungkook took to the air and fired again, again.

But Monsoon was prepared now he had his assailant in sight. He caught each blow with a splash of water in mid-air. His retaliation avenged him, a cannon-like blast of water sending Jungkook crashing against the wall.

Wincing, you watched him slide to the ground clutching an arm. The way his face twisted, teeth bared with pain, had fire bubbling anew within you.

Something else stole your attention first.

Pushing yourself to sit, your ear came close to your receiver where it had fallen. Almost unheard in the chaos of the fight, Jin was trying to figure out the cause of the error.

“I’ve lost the system… ‘s offline.. disturbance started- section C… one of the door- shorted-”

A door shorted the system? In… section C?

Realisation hit you in slow motion, and it was all too fast. Washing over you, heat prickled menacingly, spreading across your skin. A trapdoor opened up for your stomach to fall through, robbing you of more breath than the impact of Monsoon’s freak wave.

It had been you.

Finally struggling to his feet and unopposed, Monsoon dragged himself through the empty doorway. You should stop him. You should-

Numb, you looked up. It wasn’t the bright white of Monsoon that grabbed your eyes. It was another gaze, looking right back at you through the wall of water.

The wave Monsoon had created to tide him through your attacks sunk slowly, seeping back into shallow puddles around where you lay. As it deflated, Jungkook’s eyes came into sharper focus. His pain forgotten, still slumped against the far wall, he suddenly seemed so much closer than he was. You had seen that glare before; why did it drive such a burning poker through your chest now?

Your own guilt pushed it deeper. His eyes only reflected the piercing regret now surging through you.

The world tilted unnaturally as you forced your legs beneath you. Your own breaths thundered through your skull as you twisted, feet leaden as you tried to catch sight of your friends, counting the shapes of bodies… Losing count…

Then you were at Jungkook’s side. On your knees.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, voice far away, “are you-?”

He didn’t wait for you to finish.

Shoving away your outstretched hand, he was on his feet. You rose too, steps falling away from him with rising dread.

“That was- that was you?! You were watching over section C, right? …Right?”

You flinched at his raised voice, breathing coming faster.

“Hey,” a sharp snap cut him off.

Whipping around, you found Hope standing just a pace away. His eyes fell over both of you. Cold.

They lingered on you for only a second, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you, before they rested on Monsoon’s escape path.

“We should be chasing after him.”

But he got no further.

All the lights shut off at once, plunging the space into near-darkness. Only fading daylight from the entrance behind you maintained your sight. The lot of you jumped.

Head snapping up, you whirled around, searching the space. When you faced the outside doorway, the cause made itself known.

Marching inside was Namjoon. His footsteps echoed like gunshots in the silence after the battle.

You physically felt your heart jolting lower with every step he took. Tension radiated from your leader. Instinct had you stepping back as he passed, fists clenched, and disappeared through the door.

You gulped when a flash of red came from the darkness beyond.

Shame burned your eyes. At least the darkness could hide that.

Again, you turned, slower this time. There was V climbing down from the rubble, Jimin taking his hand to help him. You still didn’t see Yoongi, but perhaps that was by design. His absence would have been noted by now if not one of you could see him.

You swallowed harder, dipping your head. You had thought you could help… Instead, you had caused all this? Swayed an already losing battle in favour of the enemy?

No wonder Yoongi wouldn’t grace your sight right now. And Hobi didn’t even want to look at you. And Jungkook-

Jungkook’s rage screamed loud enough through his eyes. You thought you had been used to this, but all of a sudden you couldn’t stomach the thought of the venom in his gaze.

It reminded you of the time you hadn’t known him. When he had been all brick walls and disdain… and you had just watched those barriers slam back up in real time.

It shouldn’t be the thing that stuck in your throat.

He shouldn’t be the one you desperately wanted to take it back for.

No.

Taking a firm breath in through your nose, you stamped on the feeling. It couldn’t make you feel any shittier, tossing it on the steaming pile of shame and ugly humiliation already festering in your gut.

A new flash made you blink back to the outside world. Namjoon stood in front of you all.

“He’s gone… with the shield rifle. The doors are open all the way to the other side.”

When his eyes landed on you, you wished your powers would burn you up from the inside.

That journey home was probably the most you had ever understood Jungkook’s need to lose himself in the gym in moments of frustration.

The silence of the car locked you in, even your halting breaths feeling like too much movement. Your presence felt like a neon sign, advertising your monumental failure to your friends, drawing their eyes without asking for it. If only the seat could swallow you up, render you truly invisible.

And while you sat still, your insides only rioted more.

So the moment you got home, you broke away from the subdued group heading for the living room. And they let you. Even as you walked away, you couldn’t relax, every step controlled. You wished your footsteps would be quiet.

Your footfalls rang out faster and faster on the staircase as you finally began to give in to your bottled-up impatience to move.

Sights set on the entrance to the gym, you already ached for the burn in your muscles. Any hope of dodging the storm of guilt currently bombarding you full-force. By now, your pace was ready to burst into a run, eyes desperately fixed on the approaching door-

A hand caught your arm, roughly wheeling you around.

Before you even noticed it was Jungkook, you had ripped your arm back from his grasp. Trying to reign in your breathing, you shot him a blazing look.

“Jungkook, please leave me alone-”

“You think you can just walk away from this? What was that, back there?”

You breathed in harshly, unprepared for his exclamation. Turning your face to glare hard at the floor, you ground your teeth together.

“I’m not walking away. Just… can it wait?” Your question came out flat.

His brows only drew tighter, disgust rapidly etching into his features.

“Just like you could wait to come barging in to fight Monsoon?” his voice was cutting, “you wanted a piece of the action then! But now you’re the one who gets to decide when we deal with this? It affects all of us.”

Face pinching, you flinched back from his relentless rain of accusations.

With what you told yourself was a steadying breath, in and out, you tried to swallow down your rising irritation.

“I didn’t know it would fry the circuit-”

“What did you think our power does again?!” Jungkook cut you off, incredulous, throwing his arms out.

Shutting your mouth with a snap, you breathed through your nose. Maybe both of you needed to cool off. It wasn’t like you had wanted this to happen!

And yet he was back to treating you like a child, like he was above you-

Shaking his head, a scowl took over Jungkook’s mouth. His glare slipped back into angry disdain so easily, and with a scoff he backed away.

“I knew I was right about you.”

For a terrifying second, the space between you teetered in silence so steep you wondered if you could hear the shaking of your tense muscles. And then-

Something within you snapped.

“What exactly is your problem?” you yelled, not allowing him to turn his back on you, eyes snapping up and ready to meet his fire this time. “Tell me! Ever since I got here you’ve hated me, wanted me gone. Even though the others never-”

Jungkook responded in kind without blinking, eyes hardening and foot stepping sharply forwards.

“They are my brothers,” he spat, “but unlike them, I’m not ready to trust just anyone who walks through the door with powers-”

“I had no other choice!” you cried, arms flying out.

“And that’s supposed to make it better?”

Jungkook pressed closer with the force of his shouting.

You gritted your teeth, stood your ground.

“Listen: I am not Bolt. Have I not proved that to you?”

“The only thing you’ve proved is that we can’t rely on you!”

“It was a mistake, Jungkook! People make mistakes!”

“We can’t afford to make mistakes!” his anger slid then into something darker, lowering in volume but losing no ferocity. “They are all I have in this world.”

“And you don’t think that’s the same for me?!”

His anger boiled over again in an instant.

“You haven’t gone through what we have! You don’t know what it’s like out there for people like us!” Now toe-to-toe, he jabbed a finger at your chest. “You were picked up straight away when you got powers, and we all held your hand through it! How can I really know we’re fighting for the same cause?”

“So that’s it, huh? I have to suffer in order for you to trust me?” you scoffed.

A heavier frown flickered along Jungkook’s brow, but when his mouth opened it was only to scowl. Had you finally rendered him speechless?

Eyes locked, barely inches apart, you both breathed heavily. Not one breaking away. Not one backing down. Jungkook’s jaw ticked. A similar spasm struck you, only it was a searing swipe of hurt through your chest.

Stirring up the power that dwelt there.

The crackle of lightning was audible, albeit only a single strand of static that escaped your palm. Reflected back in Jungkook’s eyes, your own bright flash of blue.

As if it had burnt him, he jerked away, severing eye contact.

Hurriedly putting distance between you, he looked back up once more. Gone was the hardened glare. Face slack, his expression was wide open with something so raw…

In one motion, the frown shifted his features once more. With a final, chilling look, he turned stiffly and stalked away. The change had almost been quick enough to convince you you never saw him look so wounded just a moment before.

His steps rang out on the stairs, and were gone.

Like a string had been cut, you deflated, finally allowing yourself a few reeling steps back.

You paused there. Staring hollowly ahead, you never turned back to the gym. All your previous intentions of escape had done just that and fled.

A shaky breath transformed into an embarrassing sniff. Gritting your teeth, you did your best to swallow down the sob that tried to break from your throat.

Breaths coming choppily, your eyes tracked the path Jungkook had just walked away from you. Your lips couldn’t resist the harsh downwards tug as his words fed the storm of your thoughts.

There was no brushing off Jungkook’s comments, like you had often done in spats past. There was no hand on your shoulder telling you not to mind him – no, that would have to come from one of the people you had just put in danger. Whose plans you had ruined…

Jungkook may be the only one up to saying it, but they must all agree with him by now.

His words hadn’t bounced off a shield this time. They had split your flesh and buried deep inside you, writhing in the current of regret dragging you off your feet.

He didn’t think you were on the same side? You had thought you had earned their trust, but now you couldn’t blame them for their doubt in you, after such a monumental fuck-up.

You twisted your fingers into a fist to prevent your hand from clutching your head. This was no time for self-pity. You weren’t the one who deserved comfort here. It was you who should be making things right.

With a shallow breath, you rolled your shoulders. Chose to dig your feet in against the stream of ugly emotions.

Some workout wouldn’t fix this.

You would.

At that promise, the waters settled around you, content with being given direction at last. The resolution may have granted a tenuous peace, the mess of shame still swirling below the surface, but at least you could breathe easier. At least you could move your feet, a new ease to your movements at the prospect of redeeming this catastrophe.

The odd sensation of walking a high wire remained nonetheless. Controlling each breath, aware not to make a sound, you cracked open the door at the head of the stairs.

Silence met you.

If you were lucky, the boys may have dispersed already. If they had, though, you had no guarantee as to how long they would stay away. It wasn’t like them to totally split. Knowing them the way you did, you had seen the way they got through things together, sticking by each other’s side after the hardships just as much as the victories.

A bitter weight settled in your heart. You had hoped to be part of that. Their care as a group was the reason you fought, the very people you had now jeopardised.

Stepping into the hallway, the guilt never left you behind, but you forced it to the back of your mind as you emerged, scanning the place. You heard a shower running on your way down the hall. It made sense that they would be recovering, regrouping.

A quick sweep of the living space showed it bare.

Or so you thought. One more step and your breath caught in your throat, catching the top of a head which had previously been obscured by sofa cushions.

Freezing as if you had been caught in headlights, it took you a moment to realise he was asleep. It was V, a faint line over his brows as he dozed. You glanced once more around you; if V was here, it wasn’t like Jimin to leave him alone, particularly in a vulnerable state like this.

You suddenly had to fight down a lump in your throat at the thought that you could be seen as the threat.

Which was why you had to do this; prove yourself anew.

No one was here. You had to move.

Marching fast as you dared, you made it soundlessly to the stairs. You had seen Jin and Jungkook on separate occasions getting the keys, and swiped one from the inconspicuous row of hooks below the counter.

You had never been the one with the keys, but you found you had watched the others long enough to know by instinct the button to open the front door. The instant you could squeeze through the gap, you closed it right behind you again.

Jogging on light feet, you made it to the smallest car they kept here. Another press of the keys showed you had managed to pick the right key, and you slid into the driver’s seat.

A flex of your fingers on the steering wheel, and you were set. You gave yourself no time to think before pulling away. All you would find was an array of thoughts competing for the best way to torment you.

It had been your short-sightedness, selfish impatience, that had brought Bolt one step closer to what he wanted. You had single-handedly put everyone in danger.

And all you had wanted to do this entire time was help.

Sparse rain greeted you outside, swiping heavy droplets against the windows.

The city passed in a blur, each grey road forgotten the moment you turned to the next. You were too stuck in your own mind. Maybe it should have bothered you how much of Jungkook you found there. But with your memories taking you on a wild goose chase – after some vague hope of seeing where it all went wrong, if he had seen the truth about you from the beginning – questioning why his words suddenly meant so much to you wasn’t something you had room to entertain.

Everything he said replayed as you neared your destination.

You haven’t gone through what we have.

What had he meant by that? The rest was clear enough, unpleasant as it was. But this? A brand new stake of guilt twisted at the dawning realisation. The boys all knew how you had gained your powers; they had all been there. But as for the rest of them…

Had you really been so blind? You hadn’t thought of it as easy, but when you walked into this life it had been laid out for you… Had you been thoughtless? Did you take your new friends for granted?

Of course you had wondered… How they had come to be there, how they had ended up together.

You tried to cling onto some hope in the form of, well, Hope, and of course V, who had each wanted to tell you their stories. But now you hardly felt like you had deserved their candidness. Why had they even told you? Had it been out of pity? That conversation had followed yet another of your fuckups... The thought made you wince, and your doubts were accompanied by a sharp needle of guilt for having them in the first place.

Such warring thoughts about your friends only propeled the spiral further. Perhaps you had assumed you would be let in on other stories when the time came. But now you saw you had never been close enough to know, to be deigned worthy. Your arrogance sickened you.

Tearing yourself forcefully from yet another well of self-depreciation, you blinked through the windscreen.

Hurriedly indicating, you pulled off. This was it. The docks showed themselves at the end of the road, and you pulled over in the shadow of a building.

Though the car stopped, you held onto the wheel for another moment, breathing deeply. If your worries had almost made you miss your turning, you knew you ought to be more careful with what you were about to do. Being off the ball could be disastrous.

Attacking any of the top dogs was off the table for bangtan for obvious reasons. Didn’t stop them having tabs on where they hung out. You had clocked it on a map Jin had shown you when he was explaining the various movements they were planning with their partners.

To be fair, you probably could have guessed by yourself that Monsoon would be by the biggest supply of water in town.

Okay, make this as simple as possible. Worrying about the boys wouldn’t help you make it up to them. Probably the opposite was true, in fact.

Stepping from the car, you shut the door softly. Stuck to the shadows as you moved towards the river, not flinching despite the rain against your face.

The river was high in its banks, a great mass roiling downstream, churned by wind you hadn’t previously noticed. Now that you reached the exposed plain of the docks, it pulled at your hair ferociously.

You didn’t mind. It covered you better, no longer afraid to make a sound as you moved, eyes constantly scanning.

Monsoon’s lair was close.

The light was fading fast, the blue of twilight well-established already. This time of day, it seemed the docks were mostly empty. Darting past a couple of warehouses, you saw no signs to direct you to your target, but were not dissuaded.

You used a stack of shipping containers ahead as your shield to sneak up to the river’s edge. Peering over the railings, you squinted at what little you could see of the concrete bank. Black water crashed at the edges, occasional spray joining the raindrops beating thinly at your skin.

Gripping tighter to the cold metal of the railing, you leaned further out. This time, you were rewarded. A little way up, a blue light glistened just above the waves, out of line with the white ones lining the docks’ edge.

Daring to let a smile lift your mouth, you crept nearer.

When you were almost on top of it, a darker patch of shadow fell away in the path, revealing a stairwell. The unassuming concrete steps would have passed you by at any other time, but it was exactly what you were hunting for now.

You hurried down.

It seemed you had hit the jackpot. What simple workman’s entrance would have such a high-tech control panel to get in?

Stepping up to it, you saw no sign of a camera, but that was no guarantee. Placing your hand over the panel, you covered the blue light glowing from the screen. This shouldn’t be too hard for you… But the similar situation mere hours ago had your heart racing a beat too fast in your chest. Aside from the others, you had to prove to yourself that you had the control needed.

Tentatively engaging your powers, you extended just enough to blow out this lock. The blue of the screen was joined by your own light, seeping between your fingers, and then both died.

You hoped you had been quick enough in your caution, not allowed Monsoon time to be alerted of your intrusion.

With the lock disarmed, the door fell open a crack. Just waiting for you.

It slid seamlessly open at your touch. The hallway beyond was dark, but it was clearly the right direction. While the construction was plain as the docks outside, flat walls leading you on, this was not built with identical concrete.

Summoning a ball of glowing light to guide you on, the brightness reflected startlingly back at you. From walls made of marble.

Dimming the light in your palm, you blinked in surprise for a moment. Eyebrows raised, you shook your head and pressed on. Monsoon was really in the lap of luxury here. What more did he want to achieve by stealing weapons?

If you were in a situation to build an entrance hall out of marble, you reckoned you would be calling it quits on any kind of work.

The impression was only elevated when you reached the end of the corridor. Peering around the next door, you were forced to expand your light source again. The room it lit up was vast and lavish. Set into the far wall was a huge window, giving you a view of the rippling water beyond. So you were below the river level here.

Stepping further inside, your blue light glimmered back at you from the depths.

You barely turned your eye over the living space as you stepped on a plush rug between stately sofas. What you were here for was right in front of you.

Laid out before the window, a clear cabinet sat full of various devices. Monsoon kept these weapons like trophies.

Near the bottom, you spied the shield gun he had secured today. You should have taken it and gone, right then.

But as you cast your eyes upwards, they stuck on the gun that took up pride of place. White casing held a clear, spherical centre. Needles of pale lightning darted inside. It froze you where you stood, a paralysing memory of cold and dread crashing over you for a second too long.

“Who the hell are you?”

You weren’t proud of the way you jumped. You instantly shut off your blue light, a second later being dazzled by white flooding the space as the main light was flicked on.

Your eyes were quick to find him. In the corner near the vast window, emerging from another entrance in this impressive lair, was Monsoon. Presumably, in any case. He had no mask anymore, but who else could it be?

Instinct kicking in, you dived for the thing you had come for. One hand stretched out for the shield gun, the other raising to fire a panicked bolt his way.

It never hit.

Monsoon swept a hand forward. Before you could gasp, a globe of water had engulfed you, taking your feet from under you.

Your reaction never got further than a thought. Trying to lash out, your body didn’t respond. Through your watery prison, you saw Monsoon step forwards, lifting his arm to raise you higher from the ground in the bubble he had created – the bubble trapping your electricity in here with you. The current buzzing in the water was your own, you could feel it. But you couldn’t control it. Couldn’t move at all.

“A Bolt wannabe, are you?” his voice reached you, muffled by the water in your ears.

You could only glare back, terror clenching your muscles almost as much as the electric current. A burning ache crept agonisingly from your lungs.

“Did you forget those powers could hurt you, too?”

Through dark splotches rapidly dimming your vision, all you saw were cold, mirthful eyes. Your entire body screamed for air, but your mind was clouding. Vague images assaulted you, of a storm whirling around you as you fell, of blue cutting through the night. You were trapped in a nightmare, your own powers the ones attacking you again, not the thing you had grown to love, understand and use.

Faux sympathy brought Monsoon’s face into a mocking pout, but even the rage it stirred in you couldn’t hold a flame to the flood pushing you farther from consciousness-

Your bones collided with the floor. You were already coughing and gasping before the pain from your knees and head began to bloom.

Choking in blissful air, you forced your shuddering arms to raise you from the ground.

Glaring up at Monsoon, you brought your arm forward again. Your enraged powers were more than ready to strike him down.

In one step, the man stamped down on the wrist stretched towards him. Pressed down harder as his eyes burned into yours.

“You may have powers,” he spoke, ignoring the way you winced as your bone ground against the floor, “but we can still cook you from the inside if we try for long enough.”

Lunging forwards, he released your arm only to grasp your collar. Dragging you up, he left your weakened legs scrabbling on the ground. Then he sent a fist flying hard into your face.

The impact flung you backwards, the weapons cabinet rattling. One temple connected with a solid shelf, pain biting at your forehead. Hands finding the surface, you clung to it, felt blood slick beneath your fingers at the same moment as the warm liquid dripped into your eye.

Striding to close the distance once more, Monsoon towered over you. He rested one shoulder on the cabinet and gave a cocky tilt of his head.

“What is it you were after, hm?” his eyes dragged teasingly along the shelves, “I rather fancy these myself-”

You could only scramble backwards. It wasn’t enough to escape the blade he flung your way, and another. One struck your cheek, one your collar. Inches higher and it could have slit your throat.

Two metal stars clattered to the ground around you while you panted. How were you going to get out of this? Your powers didn’t mix with Monsoon’s.

Pulling your legs out of the way, you did the first thing you thought of. With your good arm, you fired again. Sending a sharp, but powerful, burst, you hit a different mark. Instead of going for Monsoon, you sent the cabinet crashing down over him.

With a shout, he was pushed to the floor among a rain of metal and glass. Your eyes followed one particular weapon as it rolled away, white light mercifully still contained.

Desperately wobbling to your feet, you fell against an armchair, clinging to it to stay upright while the world swam around you. You pushed off it towards a sofa, hands grabbing the back to support you as you staggered on towards the door you had entered through.

A scraping filled the air. Monsoon, throwing off the shelves that crushed him.

Before you could dive for the exit, a winding impact struck you, sending you headfirst over the couch. The wave dispersed, leaving you gasping again, this time on the sodden rug.

A fearful look over your shoulder showed Monsoon looming behind the sofa.

“Get out of my house,” he spat.

And then, as if in reverse, the water puddled around you was sucked inwards. Collecting into a rippling sphere, it carried you helplessly. This time, you could move your limbs, but the thrashing was useless against the force that sent you flying towards the window.

Screwing your eyes shut, you waited for the impact of shattering glass around you.

It never came.

That was no window. The water hadn’t been held back by glass.

Instead, you were plunged straight into the depths. Bitingly cold torrents enveloped you. The bright light of Monsoon’s abode flew from your sight as the raging river swept you downstream in its currents.

Your flailing arms fought a losing battle. The water consumed every bit of strength you exerted, and pushed back harder, flinging you over until you lost your bearings completely in the blinding darkness.

Raging in your ears, the river stretched out black below you and above you… although you couldn’t tell which was which. You were at the mercy of the current thrusting you further into the numbing depths, the water which battered at you stinging in your wounds.

Sapped of movement, the most you could do was bite down and try not to breathe. Your lungs burned; it was only a matter of time until involuntary instinct would take over, flood you from the inside.

The churning water flipped you over again. With the sickening lurch of your stomach, it took too long for your numb skin to register the air that slapped you round the face.

The waves had spat you out at the exact right moment. You hauled air into your lungs in a shuddering gasp, arms desperately pushing down at the waves around you in an attempt to keep your head above them.

There was no getting out of this with your powers, even if you could summon them in your current state. As a wave swiped at your face, sending you back under for a horrifying second, you longed for the ease of simply flying away with a boost from your powers.

Or even… someone blazing down from the sky in a shower of gold, always there when you needed him in battle.

But there was no one to save you. Twisting your head, every snatch of vision between the waves showed nothing but a lonely expanse of water so much bigger than you. The row of lights at the bank was too far away, glinting temptingly out of reach.

Another swell caught you, pushing your head under. Its power swamping you, you were rolled over, the cold clawing at you and forcing its way into your mouth. Each moment you surfaced was cut short, barely enough for a breath before the flow overwhelmed you once more. You couldn't even feel the rain which beat against your face.

As the storm tossed and toyed with you, your rapidly fogging mind only filled with your friends. Their care, their laughter, their loyalty. How you wished you could have been enough.

More waves, more snatches of air stolen away. You wondered if your body would have given out already had you not had powers to bolster your endurance, prolong the nightmare.

A harder impact set off a ringing in your ears.

That hadn’t been water.

Waves already tangled around you again, but the smallest spark of hope had you fighting to the surface. Your arm hit against something solid, the force of the water dragging you against it tearing grazes into your skin.

Somehow you had ended up at the edge, where the river slammed at its banks. Currents tugged in every direction as you scrabbled to grasp something, anything, of the concrete walling you in.

For one terrifying instant, a rebounding swell overwhelmed you, forcing your fingertips away from land-

The next surge crashed around your ears, flinging you back the other way. Upwards, it scaled the wall and you made your last push.

Colliding with brick and metal, you threw your arms around a pole. As the hungry water sucked at your limbs, clawing to drag you down again, you clung to that railing with all the strength you had left.

The water fell away.

Releasing your grip, you collapsed onto the stone. Ignorant to everything beyond your own heartbeat, you were ignorant to footsteps rapidly firing closer. You only closed your eyes. And finally breathed.

Thank you for reading!💜💜

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities

@parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack

@oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

@kokoandkookie @veemegatron @kookxin @seokout @jkayy

@peaaachpit @stxrrielle @welcometomyworld13 @ssexsellls @ramicherie

@jk5t4r @purplebeebs @nanjeonlangakook @wifflepuff1344 @ot7stansthings

#jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook series #bts series #bts mafia au #bts mafia series #jeongguk angst #jeongguk imagine #jeongguk x you

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stormblessed95 · 5 months ago

Note

Ok may I ask a total non hater question from an absolute jikooker who’s just confused?

Before I’ve read anyone else’s opinion on it when I first heard abt jikook enlisting together I thought “oh, BH wants Jimin and JK to go in together so that they can all (BTS) be back together working asap/by a particular date, how super fucking nice and fortunate for them to be together!!🥰”. But then I’ve read others post abt the buddy program and no one mentions it/everyone just seems to think it was their idea? Am I missing a statement/intervoew/live somewhere where they discussed coming up with it independently instead of agreeing to a company’s idea?

I’m sorry for being confused😅

You don't need to be sorry for being confused! Can I just ask why the company would make them enlist together? Lol there is simply zero reasoning for that. If they wanted JK to enlist to bring BTS back as 7 earlier rather than later....

Well for 1. They literally cannot do that. They can't force anything about their military service, that's the government that requires this of their civilians. And when they join the military, they are considered regular civilians during their service. Not idols.

And 2. Even if they COULD tell JK he had to enlist right away, which that's again solely JKs choice, his enlistment time frame would not change if he enlisted solo (like Jin, Tae, RM, Hobi and Suga) or with Jimin like he did. In fact, they went through a harder basic training because of doing this program together than if they had gone solo.

Finally, 3. The company cannot do or fill out Jikooks military paperwork for them. Jimin and JK had to choose this process for themselves, and it's like a 3 to 4 months long application process. Which I detail in this post here:

They wouldn't have accepted this application if they didn't believe that this was what they wanted as individuals. That's just not how the system works. If you are wanting to know more and perhaps see the process go through, you can look up and even watch the Korean Military Variety Show called "Real Men" and watch the Battle Buddy special episodes.

Hope that helps clear up a bit of confusion for you!

#jikook #kookmin #jikook military enlistment #jikook buddy System

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dreamywriter143 · 2 years ago

Text

Nihona

Status: Part One (1/3)

Parings: Neteyam x Reader (Step SiblingReader), Sully’s x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst, Romance, Fluff, Jealously, Forbidden Love Troupe, Step-Siblings, suggestive content!!, NSFW/MDNI (A small scene in this chapter) Masturbation, Slight exhibition/in a public place?, All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Miréya and Neytiri have been best friends since birth. Miréya was always by her side, comforting her when she lost her sister and when the sky people attacked. Neytiri loved her as if she was her own sister. Loosing her was unbearable for her and Jake. What will happen when they take in what is left off her? Take care of her daughter who is completely alone in this world? How will she adapt to her new family?

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Due to popular demand I'm continuing this mini series. This chapter does has suggestive content so please proceed with discretion. Also there are a lot of separate sections with tiny timeskips. Please bare with me😅 Other then that I hope you enjoy!

*Still under rough editing, please excuse any mistakes!*

__________________________________________

“Why are you avoiding me?” Neteyam finally managed to corner Y/n. Leaving her no route of escape. Y/n chews her lower lip nervously as her eyes dart around aimlessly. She made sure not to make eye contact with Neteyam knowing fully well it would make her heart feel weird again.

“What do you mean? Why would I avoid you?” Y/n shrugs, shuffling under his stare uncomfortably.

Neteyam gulps at her bruised lips, the product of her chewing them nervously. He couldn’t help but recall the events that left him breathless. That urged him to confront her which only got him to realize she was actively avoiding him.

“You’re barely around. You don’t come with me to training anymore and you don’t wanna accompany me on rides! Riding our Ikran’s together-” Neteyam gestures in the space between them. “-that’s our thing”

Y/n finally looks up, her breath hitched as she stared into his beautiful yellow hues. It was true that she had been avoiding him, but not for reasons he beat himself over, no. She was avoiding him due to her own revelation.

The reason why she felt so giddy near her older brother, the reason why she always followed him around and hated when girls their age would try to gain his attention. It was love, infatuation.

After the ‘practice’ kiss Y/n had realized, she loved him. She loved her own brother as a lover. As a potential mate. And that disturbed the girl in unimaginable ways. She knew Neteyam didn't feel the same, he even reminded her prior and after the kiss that it was a ‘practice’, that it had no meaning. But Y/n just couldn’t help it.

She began to contemplate her whole existence. Why was she born into a family where she fell head over heels for her brother? The connection she felt towards him, the tug she felt that always lured her into his embrace. It was as if fate was mocking her, being cruel to her. Why was she cursed?

She always felt like something was missing in her life. Never once did her parents, Jake and Neytiri, refer to Y/n as their ‘daughter’. Though they showered her with love, when anyone asked about her it was always Y/n this, Y/n that. Not how they would refer to Kiri. As their daughter.

This confused the girl which always left her empty. Luckily Neteyam was always there, always ready to hold her tight ensuring she was safe and secure. That she was loved. In Y/n’s eyes, falling for Neteyam was inevitable.

“No-I’m….I’m sorry Neteyam. I’ve been in a really weird headspace lately” Y/n admits, stepping closer to her brother. Neteyam immediately engulfs her into a bone crushing embrace as Y/n lets out a sigh of relief. She feels her entire body let loose, beginning to melt into the embrace as her senses filled with his comforting scent.

“Then tell me about it. Tell me what you feel. How you feel. I’ll always be here for you, Y/n. No matter what” Neteyam murmurs, his heart beating erratically at the fact he finally had her in his arms after being apart for what felt like forever.

Y/n pulls back, peering up at her brother who smiles down at her. His braids falling past his face as she gently brushed them aside. He loved how Neteyam kept his hair long, braided neatly and let loose. she ha told him on numerous occations how it framed his face beautifully.

“I don’t want to burden you”

“How could you? You are never a burden. I’m your brother, you are my responsibility.” Neteyam assures. Y/n’s eyes widened at his words, everything he said was true. She was foolish for loving him when he was the perfect brother to her. She realized then and there she would have to get over her childish crush. For her brother's sake.

“I’m sorry for keeping my distance Neteyam….forgive me?” Y/n asks timidly as Neteyam beams. He squeezes her tightly against him in pure glee.

“Of course baby sister!”

~~~~~~~~~~~6 Years Later~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n and Neteyam are both 19, turning 20 soon)

As the years flew by, Y/n and Neteyam’s bond only grew. In many ways more than one.

Neteyam grew to be a great warrior, training every day and achieving feats unimaginable and heavily admired by the tribe. He grew to be the definition of perfection, being nicknamed the ‘Prince of the Omatikaya’. He was widely admired and praised. The whole clan saw him as the perfect future leader as they marveled at his accomplishments.

Not only did he prove himself over the years but he grew to be quite handsome. Attracting many suitors along the way. None of which caught his attention, though many had tried.

Luckily Jake and Neytiri never pressured him to find a mate, but the clan did not forget. Many would approach him with requests, many older Na’vi offering their daughters for the privilege to be his mate which he always politely declined.

How could he? How could he even think about finding a mate when Y/n looked like that.

“Would you look at that~~~” No'eng, Neteyam’s friend whispers, his eyes trained on a certain female Na'vi.

Neteyam and his friend had been near the river gutting and cleaning the fish they had caught earlier in the day. Across them a few children jumped around in the water playfully.

Neteyam looks up, his pupils dilating as they land on the very person his best friend openly gawked at. Y/n giggles as she splashes some water towards Tuk who dogged just in the nick of time.

Over the years Y/n had also grown. Though Neteyam hoped and prayed his feelings would dissipate over the years growing alongside her, it didn't. She grew up to be beautiful. Her beauty and skills were admired amongst the clan.

She grew a few feet taller, still shorter than Neteyam and many other men. Her long locks reaching past her shoulders, always perfectly braided to her liking. Somehow always having beads and pearls that would always catch Neteyam's eyes.

And her body, Neteyam always felt himself get hot when he thought of that. He desperately tried not to notice her physical development, but the longer he stared. The more tempted he got. The deeper his desires became.

The way her bust grew, larger than many other female Na’vi but that much desirable. Neteyam often caught himself gazing at them, daydreaming about how they would feel against his hands. Her tiny waist that he knew would fit perfectly against his hands.

The list goes on and on.

She was perfect, she is perfect. Not just to Neteyam but to many other males. Something Neteyam hated.

“That's my sister No'eng, watch yourself” the sharpness in Neteyam’s tone causes the boy to quickly look away, apologizing quietly. It was well known that Neteyam protected all his siblings, especially Y/n. He made it his mission to keep everyone with lingering glances away, all because he knew what they meant.

Which is why he was that much more protective over her. No one was good enough for his sister, not even himself.

Neteyam’s ears twitched to the sound of Y/n’s laughter, it sounded so beautiful and serene. Neteyam glances over at his sister, a smile twitching along his lips. He watches how she gets splashed with water, claiming vengeance against Tuk who cowers away in mock fear.

Neteyam’s face heats up as his eyes zone on the droplets of water that cascaded down her body, past her neck and into the confines of her top that shifted amidst all her movement. He gulps as his eyes catch the delicious sight of her nipples under her top now that it stuck onto her after getting wet.

Clearing his throat loudly Neteyam forces his attention to the fish in hand. Ignoring the throbbing in between his legs.

~~~~~~

“N-Neteyam, we shouldn't” Y/n whispers, her eyes scrunched up in pleasure as she lays before her brother. His hands caged her in between them as he propped himself above her, his lips swipe along his lips as he tried to burn the image deep into his brain.

Y/n, sprawled underneath him with her hair spread out. Her face flush with embarrassment and lust, and her eyes dilated in desire. The same desire he felt shock through him,

“Fuck, I know nihona, I know. I just can't help myself” (Sweet) Neteyam whines, his tone laced with pain from holding himself back. He felt his resolve disappear the more he watched her tremble underneath him. How long he had wished for this, how long he dreamed of this. To have her so close, withering under his heated touch.

Neteyam slides his knee up along her inner thigh, coming in contact with her hot cunt that causes her to jolt in surprise. “O-oh! N-Neteyam '' Y/n moans, closing her eyes at the feeling of him rubbing against her soaked folds. Neteyam sighs out loud, feeling her essence soak through the fabric, his knee working along her pussy.

“Y-yes love. Say my name, just-l-like that” Neteyam gasps out. Who knew that Y/n gasping his name would sound so delicious? So addicting?

Neteyam leans down, brushing his nose up against her neck. Finding the optional spot to take in a deep breath as her scent invaded her senses. He swipes his tongue along her delicate skin as she whimpers at the new, but welcomed sensation.

“I need to be inside you, my nihona. P-please” Neteyam begs breathlessly. Unconsciously he bucks into the cot they were sprawled upon, seeking any sort of friction. Though every primal instinct in him wanted to take her no questions asked, he had to hear her admit to wanting it just as badly as him. Y/n shivers under him at his words.

“N-Neteyam. I-I”

Neteyam jolts awake, a thick layer of sweat drenching his body. Tiny gasps escape him as he looks around to his surroundings trying to get a grip of where he was. He tries to calm down his heart rate as his eyes take in what was around him.

He realizes he’s in his family tent, tucked away is his respective corner. It was a dream, it was a fantasy he dreamt of every day. Though he lived for his fantasies, it only proved to be a curse when he realized that's all it was. A fantasy. Feeling uncomfortable under his weaved cloth he pulls it over, gasping at the sight.

“Shit”

Neteyam curses under his breath seeing his member hard and already leaking from the dream he had. He had to take care of this, it didn’t seem to go down even after he realized he had a wet dream in the comfort of his own home with his family soundlessly asleep around him.

Just as Neteyam lifts his covers fully to silently get out of bed he hears the tiniest whimper from beside his cot, freezing at the sound he looks around the tent for any movement. His ears twitch and strain to listen to the sound only to be rewarded with a tiny moan.

He’d recognize that voice anywhere. His cock twitched once he realized what he was hearing.

“Hmm” Y/n whimpers out, shuffling around on her own cot. The sounds of her fingers working against her slick folds seem to echo through the tent.

Neteyam felt like he was already a terrible brother from having the dream he was enjoying so greatly. Now he felt horrible listening in on his sister's tiny cries as she pleasures herself. Why did he convince his parents to have their cots right next to each other?

Neteyam lays back down quietly, trying to ignore the sounds that seem to zone in on him. Her breathless whimpers, the squelching sounds of her juices as she desperately pumps in and out of her puffy cunt for a release.

Neteyam closes his eyes, his cock straining against his loincloth at her moans. He couldn't calm down now even if he wanted to. Not when she sounded so sensual.

After coming to the conclusion he couldn't do anything right now without being found out he was awake and hard, Neteyam reaches down to pull his loincloth to the side. He hisses as the cool air hits his hard cock as he wraps his fingers around the girthy shaft.

He spreads precum across the tip and along the length. Neteyam gently pumps along his member while closing his eyes at the feeling. Y/n’s moans only increase in intensity as she nears her peak, prompting Neteyam to pump his cock faster to cum the same time as her.

“F-fuck” Y/n whispers out. Neteyam bites back a moan that threatens to escape as he increases his speed.

That night Neteyam had the best orgasm he had in years, all while fucking himself to the sound of his little sister. Just as she pleasured herself not knowing her brother heard every moan, every whimper.

~~~~~~~

“Shit! Neteyam!” Y/n runs alongside Kiri as it had been announced that the war party had returned. Y/n caught a glimpse of her injured brother which only prompted her to push her legs faster, coming to stop right in front of him. Her fingers reach out to touch him to which he holds his hand up in protest.

Neteyam shakes his head as Y/n rolls her eyes, taking his arm into her hand as she examines the wounds and traces of blood.

“Y/n, Kiri, Will you please help your grandmother with the wounded, please?” Jake asks, briefly turning his attention away from lecturing his sons to his daughters who didn't seem that bothered by his harsh words.

“Our brother is wounded, dad” Kiri speaks up in annoyance, Y/n furrows her eyes on her brother's face who looks to be on the verge of tears. She seemed to drown out what her father was saying as all she could focus on was her dear brother.

After Jake tosses a few more words their way Neytiri orders Y/n to patch Neteyam up who agrees immediately, dragging the older male to their family tent. Upon entry they see Mo’at had all the ointment already set up and ready, but she was nowhere to be found. Not wanting to wait any longer Y/n pulls Neteyam to sit down on a mat while she plops down across him

Neteyam’s ears twitch nervously , he glances at his sister who hasn't uttered a single word. His eyes follow her as she gathers to ointment in her fingers, rubbing them together to warm up the paste. Feeling his ears drop at the lack of response, Neteyam clears his throat which causes Y/n to finally look at him. But not with the smile he had been waiting all day for.

“Is it that hard to follow orders?” Y/n hisses, her ears folded back showing she was actually worried for Neteyam despite her harsh tongue. Neteyam gulps at her words.

“You know how Lo’ak is, I was try-”

“You didn't try hard enough!” Y/n hisses. Tears began to form along her irises as she tried to hold them back.

“You promised me-you promised to be careful! You said you'd be careful for me!” Neteyam couldn’t help but frown. The morning of the raid, when Y/n brought him in for a tight hug, she made him promise to come back to her unscathed. He did promise. No wonder she is upset.

“You think I like seeing you like this? You think it pleases me to see someone I-my brother in pain?” Y/n stumbled over her words, her cheeks flushing when she realized she almost slipped up during her emotional rant. The whole time Neteyam stayed quiet. He deserved this, he should be protecting his sister. Not causing more stress for her like he did now.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me. How….how much I care” Y/n mumbles in defeat, wiping the stray tears that disobeyed her orders as they ran along her cheeks. Neteyam scoots closer to her, using his finger to lift her chin up to look into his awaiting eyes.

“I know, I’m a skxawng for making my sister worry. It won't happen again, I'll be extra careful I promise , I swear by Ewya-” Y/n smiles at his words, leaning her forehead against his. Neteyam ignored the stinging pain his wounds provided, relishing the moment when he felt her heat against him.

“-and I know how much you care. Because I care for you, I know how you feel” Neteyam whispers.

Y/n’s eyes widen as she stares at Neteyam. Her breath hitched at his words. “Y-you do?” she asks, her breath fanning against him.

Y/n leans closer to her brother, seeking more of his warmth. Though Neteyam’s eyes widened in slight fear at how close she got, he couldn't help but glance at her pouty lips. As if waiting for something, wanting something to brush up against.

Just as Neteyam feels himself lean closer, the sound of the tent flaps rustling causes the duo to jump apart from one another. They share a nervous glance as Mo’at walks in, her eyes tracing over them.

“You have not tended to his wounds yet?” She asks in slight annoyance as Y/n scurries to stand up. She felt her entire face flush at almost being caught at such a compromising position.

‘I almost kissed him! Kissed Neteyam!’

Y/n doesn’t dare look back at Neteyam as she walks to the entrance. “I-I’m sorry grandmother. I need some f-fresh air” Y/n says before quickly rushing out.

Mo’at sighs before walking to her grandson in disappointment. The entrance flutters open as Lo’ak, Kiri, Spider and Tuk rush in to be there for Neteyam.

Neteyam’s shoulders drop, his eyes training on the mat below him.

‘I fucked up’

~~~~~~

Y/n rushed to the only place she felt calm.

After many years she kept denying her feelings for her brother, always pretending like it didn’t exist even though her feelings only grew over the years. The only place she seemed to have a peace of mind was Vitraya Ramunong (Tree of Souls).

Where she went to express her feelings, pour them out as she surrounded herself with the warmth of her ancestors. Specifically two Na’vi, who always met with her when she connected to it. Two figures she has still yet to know the identity of.

“Y/n?” A sweet voice calls, Y/n whips around at the sound of the comforting voice. Her eyes welling with tears as the woman walks closer to her, her arms stretched wide as she pulls her in for an embrace.

“What’s wrong dear? Why are you upset?” The woman asks, her eyes looking down at the smaller girl who weeps freely in her arms. Y/n didn’t know the connection she had with this Na’vi, only that the woman brought her great comfort. And that she was always there when Y/n connected with the spirit tree. As if waiting for her.

“I-it’s…my feelings. I feel so conflicted. I feel…such a burden and disappointment!” Y/n admits , pulling back from her embrace. The woman smiles softly, pulling Y/n along with her to a large log . There sat a male, an older Na’vi man who smiled warmly at Y/n.

He pats the spot beside him as Y/n takes a seat. The woman following closely after,

“What feelings? Is it love?” The woman asks, reaching her hand to gently stroke Y/n’s locks. Y/n feels her shoulders relax, her sobs calming down at the action.

“I…I love him so much. I just don’t know why? Why can’t I stop? I can’t stop myself from feeling this way…I-I shouldn’t love him!” Y/n whispers. The man beside her chuckles, patting her back,

“And why not? Love is a beautiful thing, if you’ve loved him for this long, isn’t it worth fighting for?” The man asks, his eyes crinkled as he smiles wide.

“I can’t, it’s not that simple”

“Oh? Do tell?” The woman muses, her eyes shining with a knowing look.

“I-it’s Neteyam…..I love Neteyam” Y/n whimpers. She had previously told the man and woman about her family after she had visited many times before.

Y/n looked to her lap shame, she waited for the helpful Na’vi’s to wretch at her confession. Her feelings were taboo, wasn't it? But none came, instead the woman giggled bashfully.

“The best advice I could give you is to trust your feelings, trust your love for Neteyam. Love is sacred, you wouldn’t feel this strongly for him if it didn’t mean anything. Ewya has a way for everything, I’m sure Ewya has plans for you two” the woman says mysteriously.

Y/n feels herself smile to herself before turning to both the man and woman. “Thank you….I needed to hear that. I’ve been so confused lately….thank you both” Y/n whispers happily.

Y/n starts to feel herself slowly drift out of the connection. Realizing she was running out of time she frantically looks between the two.

“Who are you, why won’t you tell me who you are?” Y/n asks hurriedly. Feeling her connection weaver at a rapid pace.

“When you're ready” the man replies, patting her head just as she disappears. Once again now knowing who they truly were.

The man and woman look to one another with knowing looks.

“Our little girl has grown up so much,” the woman says softly, tearing up. The man pulled her for a tight embrace agreeing with her words.

“Yes, she's beautiful Mirèya”

~~~~~~

Neteyam searched for Y/n the moment his grandmother gave him the green light to leave. Even though his injuries still stung, all he could remember was the brief look of fear he caught in Y/n's expression when they almost kissed.

He cursed himself for slipping up after many years of control. How could he have been so stupid?

Hearing some hushed voices Neteyam’s hurried steps come to a stop. He leans against the tent noticing his mother and father whispering amongst themselves unaware of him eavesdropping.

“She has a right to know Neytiri. The girl has been confused her entire life! She wants answers. We can give them to her” Jake says in a hushed tone. Neteyam furrows his eyebrows, wondering who they were talking about.

“No, it is not time Ma’Jake. This is the will of Ewya. I promised Y/n’s mother I will take care of her and I will. We’ll tell her eventually.” Neytiri says in a stern voice.

Neteyam's eyes widen once the words reach his ears, losing his balance as he tries to process what he had just heard.

Neteyam stumbles in the sight of his parents who stare at him with shock and fear of being caught. Jake goes to open his mouth but once Neteyam regains the composure he steps closer to them, his gaze set hard. He was never one to stand against his parents, especially his father. But at the moment all proper thoughts flew out the window.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

“Neteyam-“

“No, what do you mean by Y/n’s mother? Is Y/n not my sister?!” Neteyam demands, his heart racing a mile per minute. Neytiri looks to Jake, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She turns to her son as she realized she had no choice but tell him the truth,

~~~~~~~

Neteyam's feet carry him across the forest floor with urgency, his smile stretched across his face wide. After hearing the truth , both Jake and Neytiri gave him permission to tell Y/n. He was ecstatic over the fact she would finally retrieve a piece of her she didn't know she had. And also happy for other reasons.

It felt like forever since his heart felt so full, so happy. He had learned that Y/n wasn't his sister, she was taken in when her mother passed. That meant everything he felt, everything he dreamt of was possible. It meant he had a chance.

Neteyam runs into the cleaning noting Y/n was sitting under the Spirit Tree, her arms around her knees as she looks up at the glowing tendrils

“Y/n!” Y/n jolts at the sudden voice, her head snapping to Neteyam directions while she quickly wipes her tears away,

“Neteyam! What are you doing here?” She asks as Neteyam walks over to her. His smiles disappears in a instant and he sits down beside her, his eyes tracing over her in case of any injury.

“Why are you crying?”

Y/n chuckles weakly, wiping her cheeks, “Oh, I haven’t noticed. Sorry,” she says sheepishly. Neteyam quirks his eyebrow reaching up to swipe his thumb against her puffy cheeks. A part of him jumps in joy watching how her cheeks turned purple under his touch.

“Why are you apologizing nihona? Are you alright? He whispers. Y/n giggles at the nickname. A nickname she adored as Neteyam had been calling her that for such a long time.

“Why do you call me nihona?” Y/n tries to divert the question, staring at Neteyam with curious eyes. Neteyam smiles softly at the girl, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Because you're the sweetest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on '' Neteyam admits, his truth out on full display. Y/n grins at his words, nuzzling against his hand that rested on her cheek.

“Now tell me, why are you upset? You know I hate it when you’re in tears,” Neteyam pulls her closer to him, causing her to let go of her knees. Neteyam maneuvers her into a comfortable position, also close to having her straddle him.

Y/n bites her lips at his question. Contemplating her words before glancing back at the glowing tendrils she was connected to not to long ago.

“I just…feel so empty sometimes. Like I’m missing something. It doesn’t help that I have these conflicting thoughts swirling in me, confusing my feelings… ”

Neteyam quirks an eyebrow at her words. He bit back the smile he had been holding, maybe what she had been missing in the very news he was eager to share at the moment? His hand glided along her arms all the way down her hand. He interlocks their fingers in a comforting gesture.

“Missing? What conflicted feelings?”

“I can’t explain it…it just makes me realize how lucky I am to have you guys-to have you Neteyam. I guess I realize how important you guys are to me. How important my family is,”

Neteyam nods, pulling her in for an embrace as she straddles his hip. Her body molding against his. The action had no Ill intentions, just comfort. Neteyam hums, urging her to continue.

“I guess what I'm trying to say is if our family gives me meaning…make me feel like I’m fulfilled” Y/n admits deciding to keep her deeper feelings hidden. She finally realized how important her family was to her but also that her love for Neteyam would never die. And that she would live with that. She would have to love him from afar.

“I see…..Sully’s stuck together Y/n. You’ll always have us, you have nothing to worry about nihona” Neteyam murmurs into her neck. His voice cracking up. He clears his throat to make sure she didn’t hear the pain that seeped through his carefully calculated words.

‘I can’t tell her’

Seeing how much his family meant to her, seeing how his family kept her from falling apart. Neteyam had to admit he couldn’t tell her about her true lineage.

For what? His own gain? So he could feel like his feelings had a shot of coming true one day?

Watching the pain across Y/n’s face, seeing the tears that slipped past her façade. Neteyam came to the grilling conclusion he couldn’t and wouldn't tell her. Not until she was ready. Which only meant he would probably never get the chance to admit his feelings to her. And he was fine with that heartbreaking realization.

“You’ll always have your brother”

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A/N: I’m not proud of how this turned out. I’m having a dry spell with my work lately. I’m so sorry guys! I’m figuring things out, so hopefully the next part is better. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy!

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@thehoneymushroomhealer @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

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