rose-bud-lite

[rose-bud-lite]

In Love With The Enemy [V]

Chapter 5: Four-Fingered Freaks

pairing: lo’ak x female turned na’vi reader

summary: during the time when jake became toruk makto, you were quaritch’s youngest and most valued soldier, the daughter he never had. but, pandora changed you and you died during the final battle, betraying quaritch and wishing that you had been able to do more. now, you have been reborn again, as a na’vi, tasked with quaritch’s new military avatar crew to kill Jake Sully. taking advantage of this second chance at life, you help the Sullys and fall in love along the way.

genre: fluff, angst ~ slow burn, pining on lo’ak’s part.

warnings: mentions of blood, war, violence

highlights: [entry into the metkayina, reader reconnecting with her love of science and pandora, lo'ak and reader getting closer and closer!!! classic sully sibling bickering and teasing over lo'ak's crush on reader, tuk being sooo adorable]

word count: 22,071

note: this chapter ended up being super long!! let me know in the comments how you liked it!

| prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

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You were headed to the Eastern Sea to seek refuge with the Metkayina.

The Reef People.

Amidst thousands of islands and over fifty clans, you could just vanish without a trace.

And it was in the main village, Awa'atlu, that you would seek refuge.

As you all flew for what felt like days, you tried not to get too sick of the water already, the blue above and below melding together as it hypnotized you. Every time you closed your eyes, you found comfort in remembering the Forest. The thought grounded you and the echoes of Mo'at's wisdom elevated your spirits.

"There!" Jake called out, pointing at the entrance of Awa'atlu in the distance.

Looking ahead, you were surprised to find mountain ranges beyond, the presence of the village distinct as colossal tree-like barriers acted as terraces, separating the treacherous, dark blue, open water from the giant, calm turquoise pools that were against the barrier, waterfalling into an even bigger body of that same water, tranquil in comparison to the roaring ocean beyond.

Their homes were just above the water and were extensions of the seemingly infinite branches from the trees that grew on the bottom of their mountain range, each branch providing a pillar for the people's homes— their maruis.

When you finally landed, you and the rest of the Sullys stepped forward cautiously, awaiting for the chief and the tsahik to arrive. You looked at the metkayina, studying them. Their skin more of a cyan color, striped, almost matching the water below you, their tails were broader and paddle-shaped. Their eyes were larger and so were their forearms and legs, fin-like structures adding to their expanded appearance. Many were adorned with tattoos, clearly symbolic and important to their rituals as a people.

And as you studied them, they studied you, their eyes locked in on your flying forms, mixtures of emotion discernible in their expressions. Confusion, fear, awe, disgust...you saw it and heard it all. Two young men came forward, snickering as they laughed at your odd appearance. You fought every urge to glare at them as you greeted them cordially, placing your fingers to your forehead as you gave them a proper greeting. The other Sullys followed your lead, following your gaze.

"Rotxo, Aonung, stop that." A gentle, but firm voice scolded.

A young woman who had just emerged from the water looked at you apologetically, smiling at you reassuringly. You returned her smile. It was the first sign of kindness from anyone in the entire village.

But, you understood their fear and hesitation. It mirrored how the Omaticaya felt when you first landed on Pandora.

The arrival of the chief silenced the rest of the village, his presence easing the Metkayina as they awaited his judgment.

Tonowari greeted Jake warmly, recognizing him as Toruk Makto. You were relieved to not be met with hostility, the rest of you greeting him properly as you extended your hands from your forehead to his.

"Why have you come to us Jake Sully?" Tonowari asked, his expression remained strong, but behind his eyes you could see his concern.

He knew the Great Toruk Makto would not journey so far for a simple favor. From behind him came his wife, Ronal, her eyes already showing her disapproval.

"We seek uturu." Jake let out, earning gasps from the surrounding crowd.

"Uturu?" Ronal repeated, squinting her eyes as she observed you all.

"Yes, sanctuary for my family." You looked at Jake, your eyes softening.

You had never heard him sound so desperate. He was never one to plead.

"We are Reef People. You are Forest People. your skills will mean nothing here." Tonowari stated.

"Well, we will learn your ways. Am I right?" Jake reassured him, looking behind him as you all nodded in agreement.

"Their arms are thin." Ronal held up Tuk's arm, then moved on to Kiri, "Their tails are weak. You will be slow in the water."

Then she slowly walked toward you, looking you up and down, and her eyes widening as she took your hands and lifted them up, "They have demon blood. They're not even true Na'vi!"

You pulled your hand down from her grasp, huffing quietly as you did your best to hold your tongue, but Kiri defended you instantly, “Yes we are!” You put a hand on Kiri's, showing your gratefulness.

Jake sighed, lifting his own hands up, “Look, look! I was once of the Sky People, but now I’m Na’vi. You can adapt. We will adapt. Okay?"

"Toruk Makto is a great war leader. All Na'vi people know his story. But we Metkayina are not at war. We cannot let you bring your war here." Tonowari explained, but his words were already something Jake had considered.

"I'm done with war. I just want to keep my family safe." Again, although his voice was firm, he was pleading.

Ronal and Tonowari shared glances with one another, and although she seemed to still be against the idea, she gave her silent approval with a gentle nod.

“Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us.” Tonowari announced, “Treat them like our brothers and sisters. Now, they do not know the sea. So they will be like babies taking their first breath. Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless."

And although Tonowari instructed the people to act like you were their own, you could still feel the tension as they stared at you, bore into you with judgment.

"My son Aonung, our daughter, Tsireya, will show your children what to do." Tonowari added, extending his arm to one of the young men who had laughed at you before and the young woman who urged him to stop.

"But father—" Aonung protested, but Tonowari's glare silenced him.

Tsireya, however, was delighted, nodding as she approached you all, "Come! I will show you our village."

You took your place beside Jake as he followed Tsireya, and the rest of the Sullys followed after you all. Neytiri and Kiri more so trudged, their sadness evident with every heavy step they took. Neteyam and Lo'ak merely looked lost as they took everything in, while Tuk, with her youthful spirit, peered at the new surroundings with curiosity and wonder.

You, yourself, couldn't help but be in awe of their ways. The scientist in you absorbing all your eyes could see. You were listening to Tsireya as she was explaining where everything was and what everything was. She led you through the village, which felt like a maze at first, collecting supplies and necessities for what would be your new home.

Their walkways were made of strong net-like material, yet with each step you took, the tensile proved to be bouncy meeting your foot with every up and down maneuver.

You looked below you at the water, various fish and aquatic creatures swimming gracefully through the water. The bigger animals, much like ikrans, were mounted by the Metkayina, trilling as you walked past them.

Other Metkayina dove straight into the water from the walkways, others breaching the surface to watch you all walk through, their expressions filled with uncertainty and weariness.

"Like babies taking their first breath, huh?" You raised an eyebrow at Jake.

He chuckled softly, "Yep. When was that for you? Like yesterday?"

You rolled your eyes at him, "When was that for you? Like a million years ago?"

You patted his back as he smiled. It was the first time he smiled since you landed in Awa'atlu and you were relieved to see it.

He looked behind at his family, knitting his eyebrows as he made eye contact with you again, "You think I made the right decision?"

You gazed up at him, surprised by his question, "It's not like you Jake to second guess yourself. What's wrong? Afraid to dip your toes in the water?"

"I'm being serious, y/n." Jake replied, "Maybe there was another way. I've fought your father before, I could have succeeded again. We could have stayed in The Forest."

"You may be out, but you never lose the attitude."

Jake had told you that long ago, and the way he was questioning himself, that phrase rang in your mind.

In his eyes, you could see him wrestling with his old self, the Jake that had an insane propensity to take risks. You brought that old Jake back, your presence returning that side of himself he didn't know he had buried. And while that part of him would always stay, he wasn't just Jake, your best friend, anymore. He was Jake, the husband of Neytiri and the father of their children. He carried the mantle of the name Sully with a legacy in front of him, and risking that legacy was never an option.

"You said it yourself, Jake. You're done with war, but my father woke up ready to start one." You took a deep breath before continuing, "I think what you're really trying to say is that you're worried for your family. But, you don't need to be. They'll be okay."

"You really believe that?" The last time you saw Jake like this was during your conversation before the bulldozers came.

You couldn't help but chuckle aloud, patting his shoulder again, "Jake, you've got a badass wife and your kids," You looked behind you and catching Lo'ak's eyes, you smiled, "They're more capable than you give them credit for."

Jake shook his head, but you knew he took what you said to heart, "I think coming back from the dead made you wiser," He joked, ruffling your hair.

You scowled, pushing his hands off your head, "Ugh Jake! I think you forget I've always been this smart. Remember?" You pointed at yourself, "I was one of your "science sorties."

"Right, I can't believe I forgot how much of a nerd you are," You punched him in the arm in offense, but he only continued, his voice more encouraging, "Hey, this place could be your new frontier. I know your science brain is itching to know more about this place."

Jake knew you well. After your primary military instincts kicked in, your scientist ones locked into gear. Everything was a fascination to you— from the tiniest grains of sand that you walked on from the beach to the creatures that you saw swimming.

Ahead, you were approaching an empty marui, Tsireya quickening her pace as she held out her hand to present it to you all, "This is for you!"

Following her forward, she ran with excitement, standing at the entrance of it, "Your new home."

Jake looking in, remained positive, "Yeah this will work. This is great. It's nice, right?"

You held in a laugh as Neytiri's face dropped, hardly sharing the sentiments as she looked around the marui.

It was bigger than the homes that you had passed with multiple openings, one larger, like a common area, and the other slightly smaller, another living space for families with more people.

Like all the maruis, it hung directly above the water and resembled a canopy, wide and open. Parts of the floors were reinforced with the same bouncy material as the walkways, but other parts were made up of a harder wood, weaved tightly like a net. There was a hole in the middle of the bigger space and above it was a huge bowl-shaped shell hung by a wooden column that connected to the ceilings. Already in the shell were coals for cooking, and above that shell was a basket, designed to store food. The column in the middle was accompanied by other columns around it, actings as support beams for the home, but also as a place to hook hammocks on for sleeping.

Walking in further, you descended the two steps into the other side of the marui, the overall shape of it, sphere-like. The walls inside were made of flexible and durable sheets, stretched between the branches of the trees, while the exterior comprised of a tougher reed, intricately and uniquely woven. The frame of the marui was made of wood, fastened with alternating ropes that were yellow and blue, meticulously laced to solidify the structure. On the right side of the marui, one side of the wall was shaped like a fan, the color a semi-translucent cyan blue.

As you helped the Sullys unload, you never realized how much you would need to furnish your new home, but Tsireya made sure you were taken care of, designating all that you would need—bathing basins, handwoven hammocks, cookware made from sea crystal and wood, various baskets for storage, and even plenty of sea-inspired decorations.

The Sullys had their own things to haul in as well, mostly mementos from the Forest like their bows. But, Jake had taken a large load of weapons and ammunition with him, and despite Neytiri's protests to bring them, he still did it. You didn't have much to bring with you except your keepsakes from your old life, along with the clothes and jewelry that Mo'at and Neytiri had weaved for you.

While Neteyam helped Jake carry the weaponry, you were with Kiri crouching on the floor as you put away the baskets in the main room. Neytiri and Tuk were placing the decorations, colorful shells and gourds of various shapes and sizes, all around. Across the room was Lo'ak, separating the hammocks, which had all been rolled into one another. He held onto one of the hammocks, pawing the material between his fingertips. Smiling to himself, then glancing at you, he remembered that first night with you in the hammock.

He remembered it all. The way you laid so comfortably next to him, the way your hands touched, and the way you told him that you two matched. And naturally, perpetually, he couldn't get that damn kiss out of his head either, his mind replaying it every chance it got.

You felt his eyes on you, but you didn't glance up until Kiri, nudged you with her shoulder, whispering as she stifled a giggle, "If my brother stares at you for any longer, I think he'll burn a hole in the back of your head."

You didn't know what to say, finally looking up from what you were doing to meet his eyes. When you made eye contact, Lo'ak didn't bother to hide that he was staring, maintaining the longing in his expression and the all too obvious adoration with it. And to make things even worse, he unraveled the hammock and made a gesture for sleeping, putting his palms together and laying them on his ear as he tilted his head horizontally.

Watching him instantly reminded you of that same night with him, the night in the hammock, your first night of peace. The memory brought a flush to your cheeks, but you set the feeling that memory gave you aside as you scrunched your nose at him playfully.

Turning back to Kiri, she leaned in again, "You know, he's been looking at you like that since we left home." She paused, flitting her gaze between you two, astute as she asked, "Did something happen between you guys?"

You shook your head, pursing your lips as you replied nonchalantly, "Nothing happened. I don't know what you're talking about, Kiri."

Yet, she saw right through you, leaning backwards and simply agreeing, "Alright, if you say so."

When Jake came back, he clapped, prompting everyone's attention as he called for a family meeting. Stopping what you were all doing, you gathered toward the entrance, crouching as you listened to him."

"Alright, I need you kids on your best behavior. I mean it. Learn fast. Pull your weight."

He paused, eyeing you and Lo'ak, "Don't cause trouble. You got it?"

Neteyam put his hand on Lo'ak's neck, which Lo'ak swatted away in annoyance, snarling.

Jake continued, meeting his fist into his palm as he emphasized, "We're gonna get through this if we have each other's backs, alright?"

"What does your father always say?" Neytiri said, trying to maintain a motivating tone.

“Sullys stick together.” The Sullys all mumbled, Kiri rolling her eyes as she fiddled with the wrap she was wearing.

“That’s right, now with some more feeling!” Jake urged, smiling at his kids.

You put your hands on Lo'ak's back while Neteyam looked at Kiri, the two of you trying to boost their morale. It seemed to help as they said it again, this time louder. Jake was satisfied hearing it the second time, "Now, that's more like it. You're all dismissed. The chief's kids are waiting for you on one of the docks. Go. All of you."

Neteyam escorted his siblings out, but you hung back though for a moment, “Sullys stick together? Who would have thought a Jarhead like you would become such a family man. I'm proud, really.”

He patted your head, “That applies to you too, you know.” Pushing you forward, he let out a slight laugh, “Now go with them! And make sure they don't get into trouble."

You moved forward slightly, "Are you seriously asking me to babysit your kids right now? Excluding Tuk, we're all practically the same age!"

"Would you stop being a smartass? You know what I mean. Now hurry up before they leave you behind, you big baby." Jake pushed you forward again and this time, you finally were out of the marui.

Snarkily, you saluted him before quickly catching up to everyone else.

Growing up, you had studied The Forest from its roots to the highest point of the Hallelujah Mountains. Now, you were in completely new territory, and you couldn't help but feel the curiosity surge within you. Jake was right about that.

You looked beyond watching as Neteyam, Tuk, and Kiri all jumped in together off one of the small docks. Lo'ak, though, was waiting for you and when he caught sight of you coming, he didn't hesitate to meet you where you were, grabbing your hand too quickly for you to protest.

He gave no warning as he ran with you toward the water, feeling it engulf your body. You only closed your eyes for a second on impact, opening them the minute you were submerged.

Blinking in awed disbelief, you were enamored by everything before you. While the Omaticaya Forest was adorned in every gradient and hue of lush green, this new world reinvented shades of blue all around you. You were reminded of the skies in The Forest, the way the wind whispered and spoke to you when you flew through the air. It was similar here in the water. All living things whether moving or still, were in accordance with the flow of the undertow. You could feel how alive everything was, the water being its very life source.

You had only seen pictures of coral on Earth, the environmental crisis not having left you with real ones to see for yourself, but now you were really seeing them, all unique shapes and sizes. Unknown creatures swam around you gracefully, their classifications perplexing you as you pondered their anatomy in your head.

You looked down to see an innumerable amount of flora and fauna on the sea floor. One in particular caught your eye and you swam toward it, pulling Lo'ak along, his hand still in yours. Its roots were planted on one of the larger coral structures, its base a hollow circle with five branches along the outside of it, its leaves, wispy like feathers, moved to and fro, seemingly waving at you. Then, a school of tiny fish blurred your vision for a moment, the fish so tiny that many of them were able to swim through the odd looking plant at once.

You were entranced by it all and Lo'ak shared in your awed moment as his eyes observed everything around him. When Neteyam nudged him, he snapped out of his own trance and pulling your hand with him, you snapped out of yours.

Ahead of you, you saw Tsireya, and moving her fingers, she was seemingly signaling to you guys. Exchanging looks with the brothers, you could tell they were confused, and Tsireya, realizing, changed her gesture, motioning you forward. Aonung was swimming alongside her with their friend Rotxo, disinterested and making faces at you all.

They were quite a ways ahead of you, and letting go of Lo'ak's hand, you urged him to follow you quickly. He nodded and so did Neteyam, swimming after you.

You showed up next to Tsireya rather quickly, and she was pleasantly surprised to see you. The other two, however, looked at you with pure bewilderment, sending each other glances as they wondered how you swam to them so fast. Expecting to see Lo'ak and Neteyam behind you as well, you turned, but found them above you at the surface.

Looking at Tsireya, she signaled something to them, but they only met her with confused looks. You touched her arm gently, pointing upwards as you swam up, and the three of them nodded, coming with you.

When you broke the surface, Tsireya looked at Lo'ak and Neteyam, "Are you okay?"

"We do not speak this finger talk of yours. We do not know what you are saying." Neteyam answered, frustration lacing his words.

Tsireya nodded, "Do not worry. I will teach you."

Tuk, who was catching her breath, whined as she rubbed her eyes, "You're going too fast. Wait for us."

"Just breathe." Tsireya stated calmly, her tone reassuring as she offered a kind smile.

Aonung though, scoffed, laughing as he joked, "They do not know how. All they know is how to climb trees."

Kiri, who had straggled behind to look at the animals for a moment, returned to hear him as she responded, "As if you could ever survive in The Forest."

You tried to hold in a laugh, but it came out anyway, "Nice one, Kiri."

Aonung and Rotxo only rolled their eyes at you two as Tsireya lowered her eyes at them, "They will learn, okay?”

Pointing to the entrance of the beach, she motioned for all of you to come with her, "Let's go over there and start a breathing lesson."

Getting out of the water, she urged you all to sit in a circle. Gathering around her, she began her lesson on the importance of breath, everyone listening intently to her. Her brother, however, sat on the outskirts of the circle, not even feigning any interest as he looked out toward the open water.

Tsireya suddenly turned her attention to you, her eyes curious, "Y/n, you are very good at breathing already. Where did you learn?"

You were surprised yourself. You didn't expect your new body to remember all your underwater marine training too, but when Tsireya asked where you had learned, the memory of your first training day with your father resurfaced. And like a knife to your chest, you actually remembered it fondly.

"I've never been in water this deep before."

You were afraid then, but didn't want to show it, wading in the water with your life vest and looking down into the pool at the training base back on earth. It felt like looking right into an abyss. It had been two years since Quaritch first found you, and while he spent those first two training your combat skills, it was time for you to conquer the water.

"Hold your hands out y/n." Your father instructed.

You obeyed him, putting your hands together.

Cupping water into his hand he poured it into your hands, "Now let go y/n."

You obeyed again, separating your fingers and watching as the water flowed through the cracks. You looked up at him confused.

"No matter how deep the water is and no matter how much that water is pushing at you, it'll never really go through you, y/n."

You nodded, smiling as you unhooked your life vest and without warning, you took a deep breath and submerged yourself in the water.

Taken aback, he pulled you back up, laughing as he brushed your hair away from your face, his expression showing how impressed and proud he was, "Woah, woah, woah there guppy! Let's start with some exercises before we really dive in, alright?"

You chuckled softly to yourself, "My father."

"Toruk Makto?" Aonung interjected.

"No, no. I have a different father from them. We did a lot of training in the water when I was young." You sighed, masking how much that truth pained you as you managed a smile.

"She is still part of our family." Lo'ak let out in a rather defensive tone as he squinted at Aonung, Neteyam, Kiri, and Tuk nodding in agreement.

Tsireya sensing a potential argument, continued on, her eyes kind as she looked at you, "It is very impressive. You can help teach with me."

So, she continued her lecture, coaching everyone on the proper breathing techniques. When she prompted you, you offered your own advice, demonstrating a deep breath as you turned to the side, the Sullys following your instruction intently.

Then, you put a hand over your heart, tapping it as you said, "Slow your heartbeat too. When you slow it down, the brain and the heart get all the blood flow and that'll help you stay longer under the water."

You watched as they all followed your lead, holding one hand to their heart and the other on their stomachs.

Noticing Neteyam's upright posture, you went over, placing your hand on his back, "You see, how Neteyam's back is straight?" You put your other hand atop the hand he had over his stomach, "And see how his core is strong?"

Commanding their attention, they all looked intently. Lo'ak, in response and out of sheer competitiveness, rolled his shoulders back and straightened his back too, all while trying to hide the scowl that he had on his face.

You hardly noticed it as you were focused on your demonstration, moving your hands from Neteyam's navel all the way up to his upper chest, "Both are important to swim faster in the water, but also good for your airflow. There's no blockage to the air in your lungs and your core maintains your breath control so you can stay under the water for longer."

"Exactly!" Tsireya agreed, "From your head to your toes, your body is one and your breath is the key to the way of the water."

Tsireya went around to the other Sullys, continuing her explanation about posture and good swimming positions, while Neteyam looked up at you, confused as he asked, "How do you keep your back straight if you're in the water? Does the body not naturally bend?"

"Ah," You uttered, understanding his question, "Well, when you're flying on your ikran, the wind pushes onto you, but you maintain your position, right? Well, the water is the same."

You crouched in front of him, tapping his forehead, "This is solid," Again, you did it where his heart was, "Solid," And then down, you tapped his stomach, "This is all solid. No matter what, the water never goes through you. Just like the wind never goes through you. You work with it, not against it. Does that make sense?"

Neteyam nodded, comprehending your advice and grinning, he put his fist out to you, "You are quite the teacher, y/n. I will look to you when we are in the water."

You bumped his fist and tousled his hair, chuckling, "Yeah, 'cause the last thing I want to see is your skxawng ass drowning."

As you answered Neteyam's question, Tsireya watched as the others practiced their breathing techniques. It wasn't hard to notice Lo'ak's sour expression, childish jealousy seething through the low heavy breaths he was taking.

Tsireya, mistaking his attitude for frustration, put a hand on his back, "You will get this, Lo'ak. Just breathe and be calm," Putting a hand over her heart, her eyes widened in surprise as she instructed, "Your heart is beating very fast, Lo'ak. You must slow it down."

He only nodded, half-listening as his eyes were glued on you and Neteyam, his neck slightly craning as he watched you crouch in front of his older brother.

Tsireya moved on to helping Tuk, leaving Kiri and Lo'ak together. Kiri, catching onto her brother's jealousy, cleared her throat, placing a comforting hand on his back as she chimed, "Oh, I wonder what has your heart beating so fast."

Pulled from his gaze, Lo'ak eyed his sister, glancing at her from the side while she shifted her gaze forward, her line of sight being you and Neteyam.

He followed her gaze for a second before making eye contact again, "You know why." Lo'ak replied, crossing his arms.

Yet, Kiri continued on, baiting her brother to tell her the truth, "Is it because you like her or is it because you're jealous that she's talking to Neteyam?"

"I'm not j—" Lo'ak spoke, the sudden outburst louder than expected as he quickly lowered his voice, "I'm not jealous."

"So you like her then?" Kiri teased him, repeating herself as she sang it out to him, poking at his shoulders, "You like her!”

"Would you stop that?" He pushed her hands away, annoyed, "Of course I like her. Has it not been obvious?"

Kiri rolled her eyes, "You're such a skxawng. Yeah, it's obvious!" She went and poked him again, taunting him as she admitted, "I just wanted to hear you say it out loud."

"You're evil, you know that?" Lo'ak glared.

But Kiri only shrugged, "What are sisters for?"

"Wait, how do I slow my heart? I can't tell if it's fast or not!" Tuk yelped, her hand over her chest as she focused forward, her eyebrows furrowed.

Hearing her outcry, you walked over, chuckling lightly as you sat in front of her, Tsireya moving to your right as she also listened to yoru advice, "Just close your eyes, Tuk. Take a breath and think of something that makes you feel really calm."

She nodded, and as she did so, you put your hand over her heart, feeling its steady rhythm under your palm. You watched as Tuk's face reflected her inner thoughts, her lips forming a small smile.

"This is how it feels for your heart to be calm, Tuk." You explained, "You can open your eyes now."

When she finally did, she cheered, throwing her arms around you with excitement, "I did it! I did it!"

The impact sent you backwards slightly as you took her into your embrace. Caressing the top of her head, you leaned back to look at her, "What did you think about?"

Then suddenly, she stopped cheering, eyes downcast and welling with tears as she quietly whimpered, "Home."

You looked behind you at all her siblings, and seeing Tuk's distress, they came over quickly.

They gathered around you, all of them offering comforting words. Her tears were pouring now, uncontrollable as she found solace in your chest, hugging you tightly, "I want to go home."

The four of you exchanged solemn looks with one another, and you could only encourage the other Sullys closer, all of you in one big embrace as Lo'ak put a hand on his little sister's head, wiping her tears away.

"This is our home now, Tuk." Even though every fiber in his being was resisting that fact, Lo'ak uttered it anyway.

She said nothing, holding onto you tighter as her tears continued to fall, whimpers and wails that she had held in for so long.

Tsireya watched, her heart breaking, and even Aonung and Rotxo were moved to sadness, turning away from the scene as they tried to maintain a blase attitude.

Tuk cried and cried until she tired herself out, her eyes drooping and drooping until she fell asleep in your arms. Rubbing her back, you tried to wake her, but she didn't budge.

You stood up with her carefully, wobbling slightly since one of your legs had fallen asleep. Lo'ak was ready to catch you though, his hand ghosting your waist as you got up.

Turning to Tsireya, you spoke, "Thank you for the lesson," Then, you looked at everyone else, walking backwards toward the village, "I'll just meet with you all later. I'm gonna take her back to the marui."

Without another word, you left them at the shore of the beach, carrying Tuk through the village. When you finally got to the marui, you searched for the hammocks, walking through the common area with an inquisitive eye.

"Looking for these?"

You knew who the voice belonged to without turning around, and standing upright again, you replied, "If you're holding a hammock Lo'ak, then yes."

And sure enough, he walked in front of you with one in his hand, already unfurled, "Knew it."

You watched as Lo'ak hooked it onto the wooden columns, pulling the edges taut to make sure it was secure before motioning you to come over. When you did, Lo'ak held the bottom of it as you sat in it, and while you tried your best to detach Tuk from your body, she didn't want to let go of you, even in her sleep.

"Alright Tuk," You sighed, whispering as you laid down in the hammock, careful not to wake her.

When your back hit the woven material, you were suddenly aware of how exhausted you felt, the tiredness aching your bones and muscles as you sunk into it.

Lo'ak hovered over you, smirking, as he quietly joked, "Tuk's in my spot. But, I’ll allow it this time."

You could feel your eyes fluttering shut, but you fought sleep as you looked up at him, teasing as you said, “Tuk is much better company than you.”

He tilted his head at you, noticing your drowsiness, “Oh really?” Lo’ak replied, challenging you as he sat in the hammock.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, your tone scolding him.

“Don't mind me. It'll be like I'm not even here.” He replied, taking his place beside you comfortably and laying his palm on the back of his head.

You looked him up and down, glaring, "Right, I'll just ignore your whole body taking up all the space in this hammock."

"Oh, sorry, I'll just adjust here and—"

"Lo'ak what are you—" You started, but stopped, holding your breath as you tried to not to wake Tuk when you felt his arm snake under your back.

He shimmied his arm underneath you to pull you closer to him as he moved himself to the center of the hammock. Still, with your arms around Tuk, she shifted too, her upper body laying on your chest as she let her legs rest on Lo'ak.

"There. That's so much better." Lo'ak looked pleased with himself as you lifted your head from his chest.

Deadpan, you lowered your eyes at him, "If Tuk wasn't here, I'd kick you off this hammock so fast."

Lo'ak took an opprtunity to flirt with you, letting a quiet chuckle come out of his lips as he smirked, "If Tuk wasn't here, we wouldn't just be laying in this hammock, that's for sure."

"And what would we be doing besides that?" You flicked his forehead hard and realizing he was about to wince loudly, you put a hand over his mouth.

Gently removing it, Lo'ak placed your hand on his chest, his fingers resting over yours as he innocently replied, "Sleeping, of course." He continued, "Which is what you should be doing right now too."

"I don't need to sleep." You moved your neck slightly, your eyes peering up at him.

He pinched your cheek playfully, "You're exhausted.”

"No, I'm not." You denied, but he leaned forward, his hand touching your left under eye, the gentle pressure sinking the skin in.

"You're dead tired."

You couldn't risk reliving the nightmares you believed were inevitable, especially during such a stressful ride to Awa'atlu, and Lo'ak knew it too. So you had avoided sleep as much as possible, and when you did sleep, you were merely closing your eyes, resting your body, not fully submitting to the state.

"Great. Then, I'll sleep,” You lied, pushing his face away from yours and cautiously looking down at Tuk who stirred from the vibrations of your voice.

He brushed a hair away from your face, "I'll watch over you both.”

“Why? You should look in the mirror. You look like crap. You should probably sleep too." You put a hand on his under eyes too, pushing on his eyebags.

He scoffed, "Crap or not, we both know that I'm your type, so you can put that one away."

"And what is my type exactly?" You raised an eyebrow.

Putting a finger on his chin, he fake pondered before meeting your eyes again, smiling at you as he revealed nonchalantly, "The kind of guy that keeps your nightmares away."

You softened hearing that, and while you had tried your best to ignore the way it made you feel when Lo'ak would look at you, you gulped, seeing his affection so clearly as he gave you that smile he never seemed to give anyone else.

You switched your demeanor quickly, hiding those inner feelings as you hardened your expression, the old glare you had before returning. Lo'ak though was completely unfazed, taking the liberty of shutting your eyes for you as he placed a palm over them, pulling your eyelids gently downward. Swatting his hand away, you were ready to protest again when Lo’ak put a hand over your mouth, playful as he shushed you. You licked his palm in retaliation and he lifted it immediately, grimacing as he wiped your saliva on his cloth pocket.

Satisfied, you shut your eyes, turning away from him, holding in your laugh. Lo’ak peered over at you, smiling to himself. Your sense of safety that you felt was transparent in the way you naturally drifted off to sleep beside him. Tuk was fast asleep too, only adjusting herself to a more comfortable position as she snuggled up to your chest, her little body fitting perfectly between the two of you.

Back on the beach, Tsireya looked at Neteyam and Kiri worriedly, “Will your little sister be okay?”

Kiri held her arm, taking in a deep breath, “She will be. She just misses The Forest,” Her gaze went to her older brother who looked downward, “We all do.”

Attempting to cheer them up, Tsireya took Kiri by the hand, "I know you guys will fit right in here. Trust me."

Aonung scoffed, crossing his arms as he muttered something under his breath. Kiri stuck her tongue out at him as Neteyam held in every urge to punch him in the face.

Tsireya looked at her brother disappointedly, then turned her gaze back, "And don't mind him. He'll get over it."

Aonung sneered at her sister, rolling his eyes and leaving with a huff. Rotxo followed him though, saying a quick goodbye with a wave as he chased after his friend.

"For now, I'll teach you how we communicate under the water." Tsireya met Neteyam's eyes, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers, 'That finger talk we were doing earlier, remember? So, come, I will show you a different area of the village and we can start our new lesson there."

The two Sullys walked with her into the village, and turning, she looked at Neteyam, asking, "Should we wait for Lo'ak?"

Kiri and Neteyam exchanged glances, raising their eyesbrows as they both thought the same thing. Neteyam shook his head, "No, it is alright. Wherever y/n is...that is where Lo'ak is. He will come back with her later."

Tsireya let out an 'ah' sound, understanding immediately, "Oh, I see. They are married, mated for life, right? They are very cute together."

Neteyam couldn't help but burst into laughter, holding onto his stomach as he replied, "No, no...my baby brother with a woman like that....oh how I would pity y/n."

Kiri, coming to her brother's defense, put her hands on her hips, passionately disagreeing, "Hey! You've seen how he looks at her. That's not funny, big brother."

"Oh, but it is." He faked wiping a tear away from his eyes, "Let's just hope his skxawng ass doesn't mess things up."

"She definitely likes him too." Kiri added.

Neteyam didn't disagree with his sister, but continued to tease, "Ah, yes for reasons unknown!"

-

You were woken up by the sound of a yawn and movement on your chest. Peeling your eyes open, you looked down to find Tuk slowly waking up, shifting her body and rubbing her eyes.

You could feel Lo'ak's chin near the top of your head and his steady breath underneath your palm as it rested on his chest. He had ended up sleeping after all.

"Look who's finally awake," You put an affectionate hand on her head, "Are you alright now Tuk?"

Tuk spoke quietly, her grogginess evident in the slight rasp of her voice, "I'm okay," She pouted, apologetic as she took your hand off her head and held it, "I'm sorry for crying so much."

"Don't be sorry." You reassured her, and glancing over at Lo'ak, his face peaceful, you pointed outside, "Should we let your brother sleep and go find the others?"

She nodded, but slowly she shook her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Or we could wake him up right now."

Sitting up quickly, she pressed her knees onto Lo'ak, plugging his nose as she playfully yelled, "Time to wake up Lo'ak!"

His eyes shot open as he took a deep breath in, a cough erupting from his mouth, shock going through him as he glared at his little sister, "Tuk, what the hell!"

She only laughed in response, and you along with her. Jumping off the hammock, she grabbed your hand again, her heels dug into the floor as she excitedly begged for you to hurry.

Swinging your legs to the side of the hammock, she pulled you forward and you obliged standing up and making your way out of the marui. Lo'ak was quick to get up from the hammock to follow, but not before he unhooked it off the columns, sloppily rolling it again and placing it in the bundle with the others.

He took Tuk's other hand in his once he finally caught up, and picking her up, he threw her in the air high toward the water before catching her again last minute, her loud squeal surprising the other villagers passing by.

"You're lucky y/n is here to hold me back or I swear you'd be bait for the fish." He joked with her, but she hardly cared about what he was saying as she shouted at him, "Again! Again! Again!"

Seeing you from afar, Tsireya shouted your names, waving to get your attention, "Lo'ak, y/n, Tuk! Come! You're just in time! We are starting a riding lesson with the ilus!"

Making your way into the water, you waded through it, waving at everyone.

Tsireya led you all to a central pool where Aonung already was with his friends, flicking his tongue and whooping as he called an ilu over.

You and the Sullys gathered together in front of him as he spoke, "If you want to live here, you have to ride."

One of the ilus were already circling around you, its motions endearing as it nudged its head against the underside of your arm, letting you pet him.

"Looks like he likes you." Aonung remarked, walking over to you.

"Right? And you would think he'd know that I only know how to swing on trees." You replied snarkily as you took your queue in your hand and mounted the ilu.

Aonung stood stunned by your response, but ultimately smirked, impressed by your quick wit, "Well, this is no warrior's mount. I doubt you'll be able to tame one, so we're starting off easy Forest Girl."

Taking your other hand in his, he placed it onto the harness in front of you," Just hold here and keep your legs in a good position. They take off fast."

"Thanks." You said simply, following his instructions.

Beside you, Tsireya was giving Lo'ak similar directions, but his focus was on you, nostrils flaring at hearing what Aonung had said.

Tsireya tilted her head, puzzled by Lo'ak's expression until she turned around to see the sight, giggling as she turned her gaze back to Lo'ak's seething figure, "After you follow what I say, you'll be able to join y/n in the water."

"Hmm?" Lo'ak murmured, the uttering of your name taking him out of his daze.

"Go ahead and make the bond gently, Lo'ak." Tsireya stated, "Feel your ilu's strength, then ride."

Lo'ak simply scoffed, "Easy."

Diving into the water, your ilu sped off swiftly, but you listened to Aonung's advice, maintaining your hold as you mentally gave your ilu directions, swimming further out into the deeper end of the water and circling back around.

You watched as Lo'ak dove with his ilu from under the water, the splash of the motion causing bubbles to erupt throughout the calm surface. He managed to wave at you, but in doing so, he lost his grip on the ilu, the creature speeding up and leaving Lo'ak behind.

Everyone erupted in laughter as you quickly swam over to him watching as he coughed up water, "Are you okay?"

He tried to hold in the cough, playing it off as he answered your question nonchalantly, "I'm fine, y/n. I meant to do that."

"Right, right. I saw what you were going for there." Behind you, the ilu he had bonded with returned, trilling mischievously as it splashed Lo'ak in the face.

"I'm good, really." He leaned in, whispering as he flirtatiously joked, "I just think this ilu is feeling jealous that my attention is elsewhere."

"You know, you should probably start taking this ilu bonding seriously," You replied, your lips quirking upwards as you tried to ignore the heat that was rising to your cheeks, "I can't beat you in an ilu race if you don't have an ilu."

"You're right. You'll definitely win," He bit the bottom of his lip as he eyed the water below while nodding, his two beaded braids dangling in front of his face as he flitted his eyes up suggestively, "But just know the loser owes the winner a kiss."

You smacked him on the side of the head, causing him to wince, "Don't lose your competitive edge now."

"I win either way." He rubbed the side of his head with his fingers, smirking at you.

You rolled your eyes, "Better hurry then," Not too far from you, you watched as Tuk was already on the ilu, clapping with joy and hugging her ilu lovingly, "Even Tuk got it done before you."

Clicking your tongue to call your ilu back and mounting it, you left Lo'ak playfully splashing him.

In the distance, you saw Tonowari and a group of other warriors, Jake beside them as they were beginning their own mounting lesson.

Making your way over, you swam under until the water became too shallow, breaching the surface as you neared them.

Noticing you, Jake looked you up and down, "How's your kiddie ride?"

Rolling your eyes, you put your hands on your hips, "Don't mind me. I just came to watch. I've been dying for a good laugh."

He flipped you off in response, the gesture bewildering to the metkayina warriors.

"This is a warrior's mount, a tsurak, not easy to master." Tonowari warned, "Perhaps you should start with an ilu."

"No, this one," He said confidently, paying no mind as he connected his queue, the tsurak growling and thrashing underneath the grips of the warriors.

"When you dive in, good position. Very important." Tonowari was sincere, the worry on his face shown in the way his forehead crinkled.

Jake with his overly cavalier attitude, hummed, "Uh huh," as he threw his leg over, tying his hand to the harness with a piece of crafted leather, "I got this."

Tonowari, although uncertain, nodded encouragingly. The other warriors let go, and you took the opportunity to tease, yelling, "Maybe you should have stretched before this!"

He glanced back at you with a scowl before darting forward with a "Hyah!"

Leaping into the air, you watched as Jake tried to take the normal stance he would while riding an ikran, but unable to find his balance, his movement was awkward. Then, finally, he was submerged into the water and you dove your head under, watching as Jake was blasted backward by the current the tsurak created as it sped away.

"Oooo!" The warriors all said in unision, wincing as Jake popped up from underwater, his hand bloodied from the friction of the leather.

You swam over to him, petting your ilu as you sarcastically remarked, “Maybe we should switch rides. I think that other one was too fast for you, old man.”

Jake sneered at you, pulling your leg off your ilu and dunking you under the water. When you shot back up, he laughed, "Was that too fast for you, kids meal?"

"Keep talking and you'll be fish food." You retorted, pushing your hair away from your face as you splashed Jake.

He put his hands up to block you, but that only gave you the perfect cover to take him down by the legs, your swift movement sending him under the water again.

You laughed loudly as he breached the surface and already swimming toward the shallow you yelled, "Keep up, old man!"

Grunting, Jake swam to your side until your feet touched the sand and sincerely, Jake asked, "So, first day...how are the kids?"

"As good as you can expect," You sighed, "Tuk cried 'cause she was missing home. They all are. But, we're getting there."

Jake stopped you, his hand on your shoulder, "Wait, Tuk cried? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine now and riding her ilu with the others. I took her back to the marui earlier because she fell asleep after crying." You explained, and that seemed to comforted Jake, the heaviness he carried in his heart lessening as he gave you a small smile.

"Y/n!," Tonowari came up from behind you, and turning his attention to you, grinned, "Y/n, Tsireya tells me you are very good underwater already. And I see you've already tamed your ilu. Quite impressive."

You gave him a proper greeting, thanking him as you responded, "I still have a lot to learn, Chief. But, your daughter is doing a great job at making us all feel welcome. Thank you."

Tonowari was touched, smiling at you, then looking over at Jake, he praised him proudly, "You've raised a fine daughter, Jake Sully."

You put a hand over your mouth, uncertain how to respond as Jake corrected him, "Oh no, Tonowari. Y/n isn't my daughter. She's like my daughter, but she's..." He racked his brain trying to explain who you were to him, the truth too puzzling and complicated to clarify.

"Ah, I see!" Tonowari's eyes lighting up as he seemingly comprehended what Jake was trying to say, "She is your daughter-in-law, married to one of your sons! Your oldest boy?"

Jake looked as if his eyes were going to pop out of his head, voice cracking as he spoke, "To Neteyam? No no she's—"

"Ah, so she is married to your younger boy!" Tonowari interrupted, beaming as he extended his hand to you, smiling with his teeth as he exclaimed, "Congratulations!"

You were completely caught off guard by him, furiously blushing as you took Tonowari's hand, firmly shaking it with a nervous laugh, "Thank you Chief."

You glanced to your side to see Jake's expression, clearly bothered as he scrunched his nose at you. You read his lips as he mouthed, "What are you doing?"

You managed a quick, "Shut up," before turning back to Tonowari to continue your conversation, choosing your words carefully so Jake would catch onto what you were doing, "It would be strange for me to come here with the Sullys if I wasn't married to Lo'ak. I thank you on behalf of him as well. I'll make sure to extend your congratulations to him.

Tonowari agreed, offering a joke "He would be a bad husband if he left you in The Forest, no?"

You laughed, letting go of Tonowari's hand and placing your hands on Jake's shoulders, the skin around your eyes crinkled as you kept your grin, "Well, as my father-in-law here loves to say, Sullys stick together! Isn't that right, Jake?"

Jake gritted his teeth at you, the vein in his forehead popping out of the side of his forehead as he stifled a laugh, playing along, "That's right."

There was no use interjecting with the actual truth, Tonowari's customs regarding family and marriage a consequence of his assumptions.

But even without his assumptions, how could you so frivolously tell him who you really were?

You were the daughter of the man responsible for countless Na'vi deaths—the daughter of the man that was hell bent on hunting the Sullys.

You couldn't change that.

But, as you stood in the water, not expecting to feel so renewed by this fresh new start, you didn't feel as afflicted by that fact as you expected to be. Your heart was too concentrated on the idea of marrying Lo'ak to pay any mind to your own inner conflict, the very thought of it sending butterflies to your stomach.

You suddenly felt awkward standing between Jake and Tonowari. their differing expressions wanting you to avoid prolonging the conversation.

You inhaled, your gaze shifting to the others in the distance, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to check on everyone."

Tonowari understood, patting your shoulder gently before dismissing you, and leaving with a proper greeting, meeting your fingers to your forehead, you left quickly, diving under the water and leaving a stream of bubbles in your wake.

The cool touch of the water did nothing to help dissipate the red hot tint that felt perpetual on your cheeks. You couldn't stop thinking about Lo'ak and the potential of a future with him.

And in realizing that, you become aware of how you had lived your old life. And echoing in your mind was one of Mo'at's many reminders to you.

Life is about balance, y/n. To be too much of one thing and not enough of another can lead us on a lost path. Do not mistake surviving for living.

You had fallen victim to that way of life—playing soldier while playing scientist were two roles you had grown accustomed to juggling. Perhaps you had always expected to die early too, it’s the way a Marine would think living through war. Never once did you entertain the dreams that would come with a long life—marriage, kids, a family, happiness. They were just dreams with no chance of ever coming true.

But now, you suddenly felt the hope of those dreams becoming even more than a possibility. You had never even considered it. But, now, the thought implanted itself in your head.

You found Kiri first and seeing you, she resurfaced, the two of you making your way to the shore.

"Your face is flushed, y/n! Are you alright?" Kiri looked at you with concern.

You put a hand on your cheek, eyes widened, groaning, "Still?"

"What happened?" Kiri nudged you with her elbow, "Let me guess...you and Lo'ak kissed, huh?"

You shook your head, not thinking as you blurted out, "No, not since we left The Forest."

You put a hand over your mouth the minute you said it, gasping and mentally scolding yourself.

"I knew something happened between you!" Kiri exclaimed, "I can't believe you kissed! How was it?"

"Shhh! Would you keep your voice down?" You searched the beach, hoping that Lo'ak wasn't lurking around.

Unbeknownst to you, Neytiri was standing on the dock nearby bringing a basket of fruits back to the marui when she overheard your conversation, her intrigue peaking as she hid behind one of the marui columns.

"Okay, yes we kissed, but I told him that we're just friends." Suddenly feeling embarrassed under Kiri's gaze, you eyed the sand, pressing your feet into the grains.

"Ugh, why? You like him, don't you?" Kiri grumbled, confused.

You put your hand on your hips, answering her original question instead of heading her new one directly, "The Chief thinks we're married."

"Ah, so everyone knows that you like Lo'ak except for you." Kiri joked, laughing.

You deadpanned, crossing your arms and Kiri simply shrugged, saying, "What? Even Tsireya thought you guys were together."

You groaned, putting a hand over your head, blinking, "Is it really that easy to tell?"

Kiri scrunched her nose at you, pressing her lips into a thin line as she nodded, "Yeah, it is...for both of you. I told you earlier how he stares at you!"

You couldn't find any words to say, your thoughts taking you backward as you recalled all of your moments together, chuckling as you remembered even the smallest of details and the most delicate of touches.

She took your hands into hers again, dissipating her joking tone as she spoke to you sincerely, "Why don't you just give him a chance? What's stopping you?"

"What is going on? Are you guys alright?" You heard a voice call out to you guys from the distance.

Leaning back, you saw Neteyam walking over, and in his concern, he assumed something was wrong as Kiri held onto your hands, her brows furrowed as she spoke.

Once he approached, he was surprised to find that nothing was wrong as Kiri hummed, "Oh, we're alright. Just having a heart to heart with our sister-in-law."

"Kiri!" You scolded her, but she ignored you.

Snickering, she put a hand beside her mouth as she leaned toward Neteyam, "The Chief thinks her and Lo'ak are married."

Neteyam gasped at first, then sighed, faking a pained expression and putting his hands together in front of him as he looked you in the eye, "I cannot believe you didn't invite us to your wedding. I am deeply hurt, y/n."

Kiri joined in with her brother, wiping a fake tear as she turned away from you dramatically, "Me too! I thought we were supposed to be sisters!"

You couldn't get a word in as Neteyam continued, sucking a breath through his teeth as he separated his hands, shrugging, "I should have seen this coming. Lo'ak went on and on about how you spent a night with one another."

"Spent a—" Kiri gasped, her eyes widening at you, "You said you guys just kissed!"

"I was only joking!" Neteyam shouted in his disbelief, "Lo'ak kissed you?"

Lo'ak, who was finally coming up to shore, caught the tail end of the conversation, interjecting proudly as he put his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice as he yelled out.

"She kissed me actually!"

Hearing Lo'ak's voice, you shrunk, muttering as your eyes went heavenward, "Oh Great Mother help me."

Neteyam placed a gentle hand on your arm, feigning an apologetic expression, "I'm so sorry you had to do that."

Narrowing his eyes, Lo'ak snarkily replied, "And who's kissing you, Neteyam? Oh, right. No one."

Sucking in a breath, Neteyam put his hands on his brother's shoulders, "Y/n kissing you first definitely makes sense. You're too much of a skxawng to make a move that big."

Planting yourself between the two of them, you eyed them both, “Okay let’s stop talking about the kissing."

Neteyam put a fist to his mouth as he let out a snicker, "Are you embarrassed of your husband? Understandably so, I mean, it is Lo'ak."

"What? Husband? What are you talking about?" Lo'ak looked at Neteyam, wholly amused and his heart roused by the thought.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Facing Lo'ak, you were stern, but he didn't take you seriously as he pulled you toward him.

His eyes shimmered with that usual adoration as he kept his gaze on you. "No, no. I want to know. What's this about me being your husband? I haven't even proposed to you yet."

Yet.

The butterflies in your stomach returned hearing that, your heart suddenly beating so fast you could hardly contain it. It didn't help that Lo'ak knew exactly what he was doing to you as he watched your face redden again, the pink tint going sanguine on your cheeks and your flustered expression immobilizing him as he fixated on you only.

You gulped, stuck in that feeling for the moment before you realized your actions, clearing your throat and acting nonchalant as you loosened his grip on you.

"The Chief thinks you two are married." Kiri explained and Lo'ak instantly lit up hearing that.

"Okay, so we're married." He accepted the fact with no hesitation, his reaction casually calm as he shrugged.

Confused, you tilted your head at him, "You're not even going to ask why?"

Kiri and Neteyam were eager to hear his response, stepping forward.

Lo'ak, not being able to resist being close to you, threw his arm over your shoulder, leaning forward as he made eye contact with you, your foreheads practically touching, "We're going to get married someday anyway. We could make his thinking a fact, you know. I'd marry you tomorrow. Or today, whatever you prefer."

"Aw Lo'ak," You began, wrapping an arm around his waist affectionately at first, but then you pinched his side mischievously, shocking Lo'ak out of your grasp, "Stop saying stupid things."

it was all you could manage to say as you scolded him, unsure of how to convey your real feelings and instead, opting to avoid them. Lo'ak had already expected you to react like that, emboldened even more by you as he whimpered dramatically, "You dug in so hard I think I'm bleeding, You're going to have to kiss it y/n. That's the only way it'll heal."

Annoyed, you walked off deeper into the water, but Lo'ak followed you, repositioning his stance to better show you where you had pinched him, the skin clearly scratch-free despite his constant protests.

Kiri turned to Neteyam as you continued to bicker with Lo'ak, "She's our sister-in-law alright."

Neteyam broke his eye contact with Kiri to watch you two, his arms crossed as he shook his head, "I still cannot believe that a fine woman like that is actually into my baby brother. I fear that her only flaw is liking Lo'ak."

"She is pretty cool, huh?" Kiri agreed, "Now that I think about it, I do remember seeing her a lot in my mom's video logs. She's really smart too."

"And yet another reason why I do not understand her choice!" Neteyam threw his hands up.

Kiri laughed, rolling her eyes as she nudged him toward the village, "Come on, brother."

Neteyam put his arms down, "Why are we going?"

Pointing to you and Lo'ak, she sighed, "We both just became third wheels to the two of them. Let's just go."

Neteyam nodded, agreeing with her but jokingly replied, "That's actually four wheels, sister."

Kiri didn't spare a chuckle as she groaned, but Neteyam merely laughed at his own joke. Taking one last glance at the two of you, he looked upon you happily, noticing how well you two got along. Kiri did as well, and Neteyam as if already reading her thoughts spoke aloud, "They are definitely getting married."

When they faced forward to keep their path toward the village, Neytiri stood in their way, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The unexpected sight of their mother surprised them, sending them backward slightly in shock.

"Hi mom..." Kiri said, letting out a nervous laugh, "What are you doing here?"

"Is what I heard true?" Neytiri asked calmly.

"Well...what did you hear mom?" Neteyam asked, scratching the back of his head.

Uncrossing her arms, she threw her hands up, "Lo'ak and y/n. The kissing! The spending a night with one another! Everything!"

The two of them winced as she passionately listed it all, and could only manage obedient nods as they confirmed the truth.

Neteyam put his hands up, cautiously reassuring his mother, "But, they merely slept side by side with one another the night that she came home with us. That was it."

Neytiri lifted her eyes to see you and Lo'ak in the distance, no longer bickering as you let out a laugh, most likely from a stupid joke that Lo'ak had just made.

She didn't say anything for a moment as she observed you both. And while at first she felt her motherly instincts kick in, her notions of tradition and duty deep within her values, she also felt warmed by the connection you had with her youngest son.

In truth, watching you two reminded her of herself and Jake, and that fact erased the hardened expression she had, and in its place arose a smile. Kiri and Neteyam remained planted where they were in the sand, waiting for their mother to do something, anything.

But she only kept that smile, reflecting on her youthful days with Jake, those memories cascading her unspoken approval onto you both.

When night finally fell, you gathered with the rest of the clan to eat your evening meal. In a large central area of the village, food, mostly fish seasoned with aquatic herbs, was served on massive shells and each clan member used their own handmade plates with holes carved out for easy hand access. You were all mostly ignored by the rest of the metkayina, all of them engrossed in their own conversations and purposefully paying you no mind as you and the Sullys sat with one another beside Tonowari and his family.

You could tell by Neytiri's face that she was only eating because she was hungry, not even trying to hide her frown as she spooned it in her mouth. Jake seemed to have no problem with the food, loading his plate up and even eating what Neytiri had left on her plate. Kiri seemed to have the same distaste for the food as well, matching her mother's expression as she reluctantly ate. You, on the other hand, were like Jake, too scarred by the freeze-dried crap you used to eat at the base to be picky.

Once everyone was finished eating, Tsireya walked back with you guys to your marui, saying good night before leaving.

You were setting up your hammock when Jake called you outside to talk to you alone, but Neytiri kept herself near you two, eavesdropping.

Hands on his hips, you could tell that he was trying to find the right words to say, slightly awkward as he looked up, "When Tonowari thought you and Lo'ak were married...you can't just keep that up forever, you know. What were you thinking agreeing to that?"

You crossed your arms, "And what the hell was I supposed to tell him Jake?"

You stood straight, sarcastically mimicking how the conversation would go as you pitched your voice higher, "I'm not actually Jake's daughter. I'm his friend from twenty years ago, but I ended up dying. And now, I'm reborn as a Na'vi, but so is my father, whose sole mission is to kill Jake and his family, and is the reason why we're even here in the first place!"

Jake placed his index finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose, contemplative, as he internally recognized that you were right, but externally wanted to remain authoritarian, "You should have just let me handle it. I would have told Tonowari that you're with us, that you're part of our family, regardless of everything."

"Right, right, like you weren't stuttering trying to explain who I was," Copying his voice, you repeated what he had said snarkily, "Y/n isn't my daughter, but she's like my daughter."

Unconstrained, you released a laugh, "If anything, you backed me into that corner. The way you said it, it was so easy for him to think that I was your daughter-in-law!"

"Yes but—"

"Ma Jake," Neytiri peeked her head from the side of the marui, "It is time for bed."

Inhaling, he reluctantly nodded and you saw that as the perfect escape, walking past Neytiri, you placed a hand on her shoulder gratefully before going to your hammock.

Tuk met you halfway, begging you to sleep next to her, but Neytiri protested in your defense, telling her, "Tuk, it has been a long day. Let y/n sleep by herself and you sleep with mama."

Tuk pouted, sniffling as she tried not to cry, "Okay."

Even though you didn't mind sleeping next to Tuk, you still gave Neytiri a grateful smile. Silence fell in the marui after that, everyone tired as all of you settled into your hammocks.

But, no matter how much you tried to, you just couldn't sleep. Opening one eye, you peeked at the others and once you were certain that everyone was sound asleep, you quietly sat up. Gently placing your feet onto the ground, you stood, hands out as you carefully maneuvered through of the marui. Stopping by your things first, you grabbed the pouch that had all your keepsakes, feeling reminiscent. When you stepped out into the walkway, you became conscious of how bouncy it was. You walked with utmost care, trying not to prompt the usual creak of it that would erupt with every step.

You had originally planned to walk on the beach, but not wanting to risk waking the rest of the village, you carefully made your way toward the mountains that were behind it. The trees that made up the village provided you with the perfect cover as you disappeared between the colossal branches.

And as if sensing that you were there, your ikran appeared by your side, flapping his wings before landing. Putting a hand on his nose, you smiled, nuzzling your forehead into his as he leaned forward. You walked into a clearing, the sky above not impeded by the leaves of the trees. With your feet planted on the ground, the grass below you providing comfort, you looked up at the stars for a moment before reaching into your pouch, your elbows rested on your knees.

There were, of course, the pictures you used to have on your bunk, hugging them to your chest before placing them beside you. Your hand brushed on a piece of glass and taking it out, it was the face of Trudy's watch that she always wore—something Jake had kept and figured you'd want to have. Then, rattling at the bottom were Grace's hair beads, you felt them in between your thumb and your finger, remembering how they would sway to and fro whenever she would laugh. The clinking of glass against the beads brought your attention to the microscope slide that Norm had given to you before you left— a small snaketree sample between the glass to commemorate your time in the lab.

Then, your finger brushed against two hunks of metal and fishing them out, you felt an ache in your heart— you and your father's dogtags. You didn't know why you chose to keep them. Attached to them were painful, bloody, violent memories, but also you couldn't help but remember those good, rare times with him. Maybe it was the Na'vi blood that was making you soft and sentimental, just like he had told you in The Forest.

You had clearly recalled having only put those mementos in there, but when you looked into the very bottom of the pouch, you found three more things. It was Mo'at who had given you the pouch, and in your haste to pack everything up, you didn't notice she had already put things in there for you.

Taking them out, you read the paper first.

It read,

Dear y/n,

The Great Mother holds all Her Children in Her heart. We live in Eywa and Eywa lives in us.

I knew one day that you would return.

Now, that you are reborn, make your songcord, sing, and remember.

You will find your blood incased in amber from the Final Battle, commemorating your sacrifice for Jake. And the bead, carved from the wood of the old HomeTree, honors you for protecting The People.

I am certain that you will have more to add to it as you continue to live and enjoy life.

I wish you well.

Mo'at

These pieces were memories you didn't have, your final moments only in the minds and hearts of those that knew you all those years ago. But, Mo'at had returned those memories to you in a beautiful way.

Holding the bead and the amber in your hands, you clasped them in your palm, closing your eyes and thanking Mo'at in your head, wishing that you could thank her in person and embrace her one more time.

Placing everything back in the pouch, you set it aside as you laid back down, gazing up at the stars, nostalgia flooding you. Although it was a cheap replacement, you felt like you were back in The Forest and for a moment, you closed your eyes, imagining yourself there again.

You could see it, feel it so clearly, but you couldn't chase it back as you opened your eyes again, the pain of leaving the place you barely got to call home taking over.

Then, you thought of Spider, wondering if he was alright. Worry didn't even begin to describe what you felt about it, but the damage was already done. You and the Sullys had vanished, and while you stood by that decision, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had abandoned him. Because just like The Forest had to become a memory to you all, Spider would have to be too.

Rustling in the distance made your ears twitch, your ikran also sensing movement as he shifted closer to you protectively. When you sat up, you had your hand on your knife and lifting your entire body to stand, you stood in front of your ikran.

Knowing exactly where the sound came from, you turned toward it, ready to strike, only to reveal Lo'ak with his hands up in surrender, "It's just me!"

You sheathed your knife, sighing as you returned to your comfortable position on the grass, "How long have you been following me?"

Lo'ak came over to you, putting his hands on his knees as he crouched down above you, his braids dangling in your face as he replied, "Since you got up."

You pressed a finger into his forehead, forcing his head to lean backward, "You're blocking my view."

He wrapped a hand around your finger, smirking, "Funny, because I'm looking at mine."

You rolled your eyes, retreating your finger back and scooting yourself over. Lo'ak just chuckled, sitting down at first then lying on his back beside you, "So, what are we looking at?"

"The stars." Your eyes fixated on earth, "I've always liked them."

Eyes heavenward, Lo'ak asked you, "Why do you like the stars?"

Reaching far back into your memories, you remembered the time before you met Quaritch, much of it a blur as your own mind drowned out the torture you endured at such a young age.

"Pandora...you'd hear stories about it on earth—the most hostile environment known to man is how they'd describe it." You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, chills going down your spine as that time in your life flashed in front of you like a wave, "When my parents sold me, I was kept in a warehouse. They would never turn the lights on in the rooms, but there were windows. So, at night, even when the sky was at its absolute darkest, the stars, the planets...they kept me company. I just always remember wanting to be where they were."

Aiming to lighten the mood, you jokingly figured, "Maybe the Great Mother heard me all the way from earth 'cause not long after, Quaritch took me in and then we came here. And then...I died and I’m here again," You paused, echoing Mo'at's words in her note to you, "Reborn."

Lo’ak noticed your goosebumps, the nerves you tried to hide so obvious to him. And not wanting to press you any further, he did his best to cheer you up, “I was feeling pretty lonely before I met you, so maybe the Great Mother heard my prayers too.”

Your breath hitched, glancing at him from the side then retreating your gaze forward when he tried to meet your eyes, “You’re just saying that. You had Neteyam and Kiri and Tuk. And you also grew up with my brother, didn’t you?”

He just scoffed, “Okay yeah but your brother isn’t nearly as pretty as you are.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh but you couldn’t help it as a roll of laughter escaped you. It was just what you needed, and although your worries still existed, they were quieted as you and Lo'ak talked.

Lo’ak continued, nonchalant as he joked, “I mean, I know why you hang out with me the most. It’s obviously because I’m the most handsome of my siblings, and that includes Kiri and Tuk.”

You let another laugh out before lifting your head and sitting upright, meeting his eyes, "No, that's not it."

The statement made Lo'ak anxious, but equally as desperate to know as he sat up with you, his front braids falling forward as he adjusted the tilt of his head in curiosity, "Why?"

"I hang out with you because..." You reached for him, pawing at the beads in his hair as you tried to find the words you wanted to say, wondering if you even had the courage to say them at all.

The movement made Lo'ak gulp, his lips parted as he rested his palm on the ground for stability. Instinctively, he leaned forward, the natural intimacy between you so stark. Yet, the gap he aimed to close never did as you tugged on his two braids playfully, making him scrunch his face in response.

"B-because it's fun to do stuff like that to you." You stuttered, turning away from him, your eyes landing on the dirt patch at the edge of the grass.

Tracing stars into the ground, you avoided Lo'ak as he peeked his head beside you, smiling as he understood what you were trying to say beneath your mischief, "As long as I get to be close to you, I'm fine with that."

You didn't say anything, peering at him for a second to see his huge smile. Touched, you looked back on the ground, hiding your own smile as you continued to draw your stars in the dirt.

"Teach me how to do that." Lo'ak attempted to follow your hand movements, but with the third stroke, he gave up.

Holding the back of his hand, you directed his maneuvers explaining it, "Just start from the bottom like this then you go up, down, left, right, and down to where you started."

You let go of his hand and watched as he tried it himself, and succeeding, he looked at you for approval, which you gave to him in the form of a proud nod.

The two of you stayed in the clearing for a while, and helping to take your mind off things, Lo'ak asked you more about the stars, your knowledge of astronomy finally landing on eager ears as you mapped out simple basics of the solar system.

When the peak of eclipse began to wane, you stopped your lesson and looking at Lo'ak you urged, "We should head back."

He nodded upon your request. In truth, he was ready to go to sleep again, feeling the creeping tiredness in the yawn that escaped him. But, he was far too engrossed in being with you for that to take priority.

Lo'ak got up first, reaching his hand out to you, which you hesitated to take, and seeing that hesitation, Lo'ak took your hand anyway, lifting you up with firm strength.

"Thanks." Your voice was quiet as you separated your hand from his and looking down, your eyes widened.

"Oh I can't believe I almost forgot this." You crouched to pick up your pouch, holding it close to you, "Okay, let's go."

"What is that?" Lo’ak cocked his head forward to look, but he didn’t need to as you held it out for him to hold.

“Memories.” You replied simply, and turning to your ikran, you gave him one final goodbye before heading in the direction that you came from.

Lo’ak, picked out each of the pieces, observing them. He read the paper last before tucking it back into the pouch.

“What else are you going to put in your songcord?” Lo’ak caught up to you as you walked, the path narrowing from the clearing and into the village.

Just at the edge of the trees, you saw the water below and the village just ahead. Turning, you were about to respond, but Lo’ak continued his pace, bumping into you. You staggered backward toward the edge of the water, falling backwards with nothing to hold.

Lo’ak in his panic, caught you quickly but let go of your pouch, sending it to the depths of the water.

“Y/n I’m so sor—“ You shushed him, putting a hand to his lips.

“Just shut up and dive.”

There was no time to waste for you as you felt a pit in your stomach form, instantly diving into the water. Lo’ak followed after you, even though he knew he couldn’t hold his breath for long, swimming downward.

You had only managed to grab Mo’at’s paper, your dogtags, and the wooden bead as the rest of it fell toward the sea floor below, beyond the scope of the natural bioluminescent plants and into the dark and infinite.

Out of breath, you swam up, Lo’ak already there as he caught his own breath. When you resurfaced, you opened your hand, defeated.

Lo’ak handed you Trudy’s watch, apologetic, “I’m sorry. This was all I could grab.”

You took it from his hands, closing your palm around it, “It’s okay Lo’ak. Thank you.”

Lifting yourself to the shore, the dirt becoming mud as it caked onto your knuckles, you pivoted, sitting down for a moment as your feet dangled above the water.

Opening your palms, you let out a deep exhale, sadness permeating through you and only amplifying as you shivered from the breeze that cascaded through the trees.

“We can look for your other things tomorrow when it’s light outside.” Lo’ak nudged you with an elbow, but you didn’t budge, your head downcast.

It suddenly felt like a bad omen looking at what you had salvaged, a symbolism of everything you couldn't save and everything in your past that haunted you.

As if to taunt you, you looked at your dogtags, the word “Quaritch” causing scorn to rise within you, a reemergence of the pain and the inner conflict you felt about your existence rising. Then, there was the bead, the wood blackened and charred by your father’s command. And lastly, Trudy’s watch, the hands frozen, forever stuck on the moment when she breathed her last breath.

Somehow, all you could gather were the parts of your story that you just couldn’t forgive, the parts of you that juxtaposed that renewed sense of being Mo’at urged you to be, to feel.

But just like Mo’at’s paper, you felt that tug within yourself, torn. The line between who you were and who you wanted to be blurred like the ink that smudged the wet page.

Perhaps remembering was just too painful and in your desperation to lay waste to the guilt and regret you felt, you impulsively threw them all back into the water, overwhelmed by the need to let everything go, to stop the ache inside of you.

Lo’ak blinked rapidly as you did it, unsure if he was just imagining it, “Why—“

Not sparing the water a second glance, you got up, brushing the dirt off your knuckles. You tried to remain indifferent, but your voice cracked, “Some things are better off forgotten. Let’s go.”

"Wait, y/n—"

Lo’ak watched as you walked off and looking into the water, he prayed in a hushed tone quickly before darting off after you, “Great Mother, please help me find everything quickly tomorrow."

-

The next morning, Tsireya was surprised to see Lo'ak so early, but even more surprised to not find you by his side. Judging by the expression that Lo'ak had on his face, she could sense his desperate urgency and the panic behind his eyes.

She cocked an eyebrow at Lo'ak, his eyes showing his desperate concern, and holding the basket she had at her side, she asked, "What is wrong?"

Rambling, he moved his hands as he explained what happened, not stopping to take a breath as he let his words out, "Last night, y/n and I were looking at the stars and then she had this little sack with all the things she needed for her songcord and I dropped it in the water. And I just—I saw her face when it fell and I hate seeing her so sad. So, I need your help finding it.”

She had expected a more dire situation, and after letting out a sigh of relief, she couldn't help but giggle, "And here I was so worried that something terrible had happened! This is an easy fix. Show me where she lost her things. I will help you."

Leading her to that edge, the slight wave of the water lapping at it, Lo'ak could still see your footprints still pressed into the dirt. Pointing, he directed her, "It fell down right here."

"Stay here. I have something that will help with your breath." Tsireya said, and diving, she quickly swam to the depths of the coral reef, her eyes scanning the water.

When she found what she was looking for, a gill mantle, she put one on herself and held onto another for Lo'ak, their fluid-like movements making them difficult to grasp at first, but once she had her hold on the gelatinous body, she swam up.

Lo'ak crouched near the water, watching for Tsireya, heart pounding in anxiousness. He wanted to find it before you woke up, or at the very least, before you noticed he was gone.

Once Tsireya surfaced, she signaled for him to join her and jumping in the water, she showed him the gill mantle, explaining, "Turn. I will put this on your back. It gives breath in the water."

He obliged, turning. He felt it attach to him, its smooth texture cool on his skin. Then, Tsireya submerged herself again, Lo'ak following after her.

He instantly felt better in the water, keeping up with her as she made her way down. The light from above provided a shimmering beacon for the sea floor, which resembled an abyss before in the wake of the night.

Still though, the surroundings were darker than Lo'ak was used to, and seeing his discomfort, Tsireya gently tapped one of the coral pieces, the entire structure illuminating the bottom, every creature and plant seemingly greeting it as they all, in unison, casted their own lights in response.

Once the floor was illuminated, Lo'ak easily found the wooden bead, your dogtags, and Trudy's watch almost fully buried in the sand, their foreign appearances allowing for his eyes to spot them quickly. It also didn't take long for Tsireya to spot the pouch, the design of it so distinctly Omaticaya that it stuck out amidst the surroundings of the sea.

Handing it to Lo'ak, he smiled, clearly grateful to her. Then, making sure that everything was in there, he peeked inside. Relief took over him as he realized everything was still in there and inside of his mind, he thanked the Great Mother. Placing the watch, bead, and tags in the pouch, he closed it tightly.

Going back to the surface, Lo'ak held on to it with a tight fist, not wanting anything to fall out again. And when they neared the surface, Tsireya took the gill mantle off him and off herself. Taking their breaths, they were silent for a moment and holding your pouch out of the water, Lo'ak couldn't contain his excitement to give it to you later.

Tsireya had only met Lo'ak the day before, but she noted early on that Lo'ak would never smile at anyone the way he would smile at you.

Swimming toward the docks, she suggested, "This will be y/n's first songcord?"

"Yeah, it is," Lo'ak looked up, tilting his head, "Why?"

Her eyes brightened, "Come with me. I know how you can make y/n very happy."

Stopping by her marui, she fished out a handful of items from a basket near the ground and showing them to Lo'ak, she described them, "You can use this twine to put it altogether and then you can add something to symbolize your connection, here are some things—just a few shells, sea crystals, beads, and rocks that you can put on there to make it even more special for her."

Instantly smiling as an idea popped into his head, he took out his knife, "I know exactly what I'm going to add. Thanks Tsireya."

"You are very welcome. Here, I will measure out the twine for you."

He nodded gratefully as he began carving through one of the shells. Tsireya unraveled the twine and looking up, she watched Lo'ak for a moment, moved by how focused he was, his concentration showing how much he cared about the efforts he put into it. When he finished, laid out your mementos, one by one, organizing them with intention.

He remembered all the things you told him about yourself, even the smallest details helping him figure out how to put them all in the right order. As he continued to think, he instinctively touched the ikran claw on his necklace, and eyes widening, he unfastened it, undoing the entire thing to release the claw from its position.

Once again, Tsireya saw that huge smile, her heart warmed by the sight, "You’re putting the claw from your necklace in it as well?”

He nodded, placing it delicately next to the shell he carved for you, “I was wearing it when we met.”

He also remembered vividly how you had hooked your hands around the claw of his necklace when you kissed him. But, he kept that reason to himself, too shy to admit it to Tsireya.

“You are very fond of her,” Tsireya knew she was pointing out the obvious, but it didn’t stop Lo’ak from blushing, "And she is very fond of you too."

"Your father thinks we're married." Lo'ak looked up at her from the side, chuckling.

"So did I." Tsireya said with a giggle. Her eyes wandered to your mementos, curiosity bubbling inside her.

"I have never seen things like this before." Tsireya admitted, intrigued as she eyed each one closely, "These are from the Sky People, right?"

"Y/n is from the same star that my dad is from." He replied as he played around with different combinations of beads and rocks.

"How? How are y/n and your dad Na'vi?" Tsireya asked, sheltered from the very idea that it could be a possibility.

Norm and Max had tried to explain it to him once before in the lab while Kiri was visiting Grace's avatar, but he couldn't recall all of the scientific terms or processes. And not wanting to confuse her any further, he avoided the question, "I don't really know. You'll have to ask y/n. She knows all about it. She was a scientist, one of the natural observers of our world."

Tsireya nodded, seeming to comprehend Lo'ak, "I will ask her later when we have time after our lessons. But for now let us hurry, so you can give it to her! I will help you put it altogether."

Giving him directions on how to weave the pieces, Tsireya helped Lo’ak, making different shapes and manipulating the differing pieces to make a cohesive line. Lo'ak kept a careful watch on the sun, once low, a half dome in the reflection of the water, approached near highest peak, the once pinkish tone of the sky slowly settling into blue. When Lo’ak finally got to the last part, he secured what he had carved for you with a double knot, leaving extra room before cutting the end off.

"There! It’s done!" Coiling it in his palm, he presented it to Tsireya and he took it with haste, already up from his seated position and halfway to the entryway of the marui.

"Thank you Tsireya!," Lo'ak began to whisper-yell as he realized that it was still too early for many of the villagers, "Thank you! I have to go give this to y/n. I'll see you later."

Overwhelmed by hopelessness, you had let your impulses take over the night before, so much so that you had woken up in a daze, not feeling like yourself as you mindlessly rolled your hammock. Although you had so confidently uttered aloud how much you wanted to forget, you were beginning to regret it. You hadn't noticed that you were just turning it over and over until Kiri put a hand over yours.

"Are you okay?" She slowly took your hammock out of your hands, trying to find an answer in your blank stare.

“Oh yeah. I'm fine." You replied cheerily, although she wasn't convinced, the glint of sadness still remnant in the way you were looking at her.

When Jake figured out that Lo'ak was missing, what could have been a peaceful morning turned into a very stressful one as he scolded Neteyam for not keeping an eye on his brother. Apologetic, Neteyam could only manage an obedient nod, taking the heat for it, despite his own inner protests.

Hearing Jake, you pulled yourself out of your daze, quick to defend Neteyam, "Why are you blaming Neteyam? This isn't his fault, Jake. Lo'ak probably just went to go ride his ilu or something."

"That's not the point y/n. The point is that I told him to stay out of trouble." He was absolute in his strict rule, but you didn't care, still continuing to argue.

"How do you know he's in trouble?" You challenged him. narrowing your eyes.

Jake opened his mouth with an outstretched finger at you, "It's Lo'ak. I know."

"Like father, like son." You muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes.

"What was that?" Jake's fists balled, the slight annoyance in his voice amplifying.

Putting your hands at your sides as you turned on your heel, you took Neteyam by the shoulder, "Stand down Corporal. Neteyam and I will go look for him before you have a stroke."

Jake watched the two of you go, Neytiri urging Kiri and Tuk to follow after you.

"Thank you for coming to my defense." Neteyam peered at you from the side, grateful as he smiled at you.

You slung your arm over his shoulder with your other hand out for him to bump, "Anytime. I love seeing that vein stick out of your dad's forehead whenever I do something like this."

Neteyam bumped your knuckles, chuckling loudly, "I have noticed it come out a lot lately."

When he laughed, the way he smiled flashed you back, a warm, but sullen feeling taking over, "Has your mom ever told you that you look a lot like her sister, your aunt, Sylwanin? When you smiled, just now, you really look like her."

He blinked, trying to remember, but shaking his head, "No, she's never told me, but I have seen her when I've connected to the Tree of Souls," He looked at you, amazed, "Now that I think about it, I see it."

"Wait! Wait for us!" Tuk's little voice yelled from behind you.

Letting your arm fall, you let out a laugh as you watched her bounce over, the material of the dock moving up and down with every step. Kiri was watching her intently, making sure she didn't suddenly fall into the water.

"Guys! What's happening? What are we doing?"

All of you shifted your attention to that familiar voice, the slight gravelly texture of it not hard to distinguish.

Neteyam immediately scolded his little brother, taking him by the neck, "Skxawng! We were looking for you. Dad has been wondering where you were all morning."

You all continued to walk on the docks until you got to the beach, Neteyam giving his brother an earful.

"Yeah seriously brother." Kiri began, eyes narrowed, "We've been here a whole day and you're already off on some little adventure. Where did you go?"

Lo'ak, wholly expecting it and being so used to being in trouble, shrugged casually, his eyes going to you as he stepped forward, "I had to go look for something."

"What are you talking about?" You knew what he was alluding to, but it felt too good to be true.

From behind his back, he held your pouch up by its drawstring and you furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief, "You found it."

Grabbing hold of your right hand, he placed it gently in your palm, "I know you said some things are better forgotten. But, songcords aren't just about how you began. They're also about how you continue life," He paused, chuckling softly, "And, I also know that if my grandma was here, she would kill me if I let that pouch sit at the bottom of the reef.”

Shocked, you couldn't move for a second, overwhelmed with warmth as you took in Lo'ak's words.

Eager, he looked at you expectantly, "Open it."

Neteyam, Kiri, and Tuk were equally as eager, Tuk annoying Neteyam to pick her up so she could see properly. All of them leaning forward, they watched as you pulled the opening apart, the drawstring shortening to their knots at the end.

When you opened the pouch, you softened instantly, "Lo'ak," You spoke in a soft, gentle voice, pulling out the finished songcord, the sight of it giving way to butterflies in your stomach.

You couldn't believe your eyes. Every piece was perfectly placed exactly how you would have done it. With intricate weaving, the bigger pieces were accented by crystals and rocks, the colors all different kinds all along the twine. As you trailed your fingers down, you stopped at the claw and you looked at Lo’ak again, your eyes going to his bare neck. Touched that he had given it to you, you held it with your left hand as your eyes went to the last addition.

You saw what Lo'ak had worked so hard to carve for you and holding it up, you looked at him proudly, "You made this star?” Pressing a finger into each of the points, you praised him, “Aren’t you a quick learner. It’s perfect.”

Kiri found the whole interaction endearing, watching the two of you with a grin on her face. Even Neteyam was moved, proud of his little brother.

You paused, uncertain what to say next, and impulsively you showed your gratitude as you hugged him, your arms around his neck, finding the words finally, “This is perfect. I can’t believe you did all this for me. Thank you.”

“I-I'm glad you like it.” He put his arms around you, and from behind, Kiri and Neteyam mocked their brother, blowing kissy faces at him when they noticed his sudden shyness.

Tuk though, whined, "No fair Lo'ak! You didn't even ask us if we wanted to add something to y/n's songcord!"

Overcome with annoyance, Lo'ak scowled and you let go of him, putting a hand up to shush him. Moving closer to her, you patted her head, "Like your brother said, songcords are about continuing life. You'll have so many more opportunities to add something, okay?"

Smiling wide, she nodded, putting her arms out for you to hold her. Neteyam loosened his grip on his sister as you took her into your arms and she hugged you tightly, "I love that you're part of our family!"

"Yeah, y/n. You're a Sully. You're one of us." Kiri proclaimed proudly.

The other Sullys gathered around you, Kiri and Neteyam putting their hands on your shoulder while Lo'ak shifted to face you.

"Yeah and when I marry you, you'll be a Sully officially."

You were about to flick his forehead when Tuk did the honors, getting back at her brother with a snarky reply, "You're too annoying to marry y/n! I'd feel bad for her."

The outburst was so unexpected, you let out a boisterous laugh, Kiri and Neteyam following suit as their laughs reined in with yours. Lo'ak though held it in, keeping half a smirk as he glared at Tuk and pinched her cheek.

-

Day by day, you were learning more and more about the sea.

Much like the Forest held the flow of energy in the branches of its trees and in the flight of the creatures that called it home, the sea regarded it in the kinship between life and the water that connects all things.

This wasn't just the mindless repetition that you were used to in your military training or even your countless hours of lab training. You were thrust into the depth of a culture that moved your soul and reignited your love for the natural world. And because everything was so new, you felt like a kid again, trying out new things and throwing caution to the wind.

And although you already felt close to the Sullys before, that closeness only solidified as you all were thrown into this new frontier together.

You and Neteyam would hold contests to see who could hold their breath in the water the longest. Tuk and you would spend time making jewelry or hanging out on the sea floor to look for shells and ocean trinkets. You and Kiri always enjoyed diving to the sandy bottom of the reef to observe the sea creatures, keeping their company sometimes until night would fall.

You usually would cast nets to go fishing with Jake or spar with one another to practice fighting with spears. Neytiri enjoyed watching the two of you do either, usually sitting nearby and weaving materials as she did so. Still reluctant to conform, she did her best to adapt with the help of all of you, But, because you knew she missed home so much, you would often ask her to help you with using a bow and arrow, your request almost always inciting excitement in her eyes.

Tsireya was in the center of all these activities, proving to be a good teacher, leader, and friend as she worked diligently to ensure that you were learning the ways of her people well.

And while you did all these things in your new routine, you spent most of your time with Lo'ak.

Lo'ak and you would take every opportunity to ride your ilus together, and when you all finally tamed your own tsuraks, the two of you would sneak off and race them whenever you got the chance. You had even started playing games in the water, creating obstacle courses for yourselves to train your speed and agility or even just simple ones like hide and seek with different objects like shells or rocks—a favorite of Tuk's when she would come (to the dismay of Lo'ak) spend time with you.

When you weren't riding, you were usually sat across from him on the shore of the beach, detailing your latest discovery in the water, your urge for knowledge making itself known in your endless theories and conclusions about their natural world. In conversations like these, Lo'ak found himself falling in love with the sound of your voice every time you spoke science to him.

And when you would just dive in the water together, you would often try to go all the way to the bottom of the reef using the gill mantles, your constant adventures to the depths leading you to unforeseen caves that surprisingly had air pockets, those places being your refuge when you would get tired of swimming.

You all were beginning to get accustomed to the sea, no longer babies taking their first breath.

Yet, despite how well you all were doing, Aonung and his friends, hardheaded and callous, still met you all with hostility and prejudice.

You were just coming back from an underwater dive with Lo'ak, the two of you walking along the beach as he listened to you enthuse, "I can't believe that cave had that sea glass above it. You could see the reflection of the sun through it that far down."

Spotting Kiri in the distance, you nudged Lo'ak, "Come on, let's go tell Kiri about it."

She was in the shallows of the shore, her head and body under the water with her feet above the surface. Even though you called out to her, she didn't respond and you chuckled to yourself, knowing she was focused on whatever it was she had stumbled upon in the sand.

As you made your way over, Aonung had beat you to it, making a spectacle of Kiri to his friends as he walked up to her, prompting her attention out of the water.

"Are you some kind of...freak?" Aonung asked, the others snickering as he taunted her, "I mean you're not even true Na'vi," He gripped her hands forcefully, "Look at these hands."

"Get your hands off me!" She shook her hands out of his grip with a disgusted look on her face, turning away from them and walking in the opposite direction.

Not satisifed, Aonung followed after her, calling out taunts once more until Lo'ak saunted over, pushing Aonung as he snarled, "Back off fishlips."

"Oh good, other four fingered freaks." Aonung mocked, unfazed.

"Look at their little baby tails." One of his friends insulted, grabbing onto your tail aggressively.

Lo'ak turned ready to punch him, "Don't touch her."

But, you had already grabbed the man by the queue, jerking him backward, "Man, I should have brought my damn spear."

His friend, scowled and looking down at your hands when you stepped forward, he clicked his tongue, "This is just a whole family of freaks."

"Leave us alone!" Kiri yelled out, frustrated and annoyed.

"Yeah, you heard what she said." Neteyam had come too, marching to Aonung, his growl sending Aonung backward slightly and his arm up in front of his friends who all snarled at him, "Back off."

Aonung didn't say anything, scoffing softly as he put his hand up in voluntary surrender.

"Smart choice. And from now on, I need you to respect my sisters." Neteyam said, backing away, "Let's go." He put a hand on Kiri's shoulder and another on Lo'ak's head.

You turned on your heel reluctantly, following them until you heard one of them call out mockingly, "Buh-bye!"

Hearing that, Lo'ak stopped, sighing heavily, unable to help himself as he made his way back to Aonung, smirking as an idea popped up in his head.

"Lo'ak—" Neteyam began, but Lo'ak put his hand up reassuringly.

"I got this bro."

Aonung turned, the others along with him.

"I know this hand is funny." He wiggled his pinky at him, Aonung watching intently, "I'm a freak. Alien. But it can do something really cool. Watch. First, you ball it up real tight like this. Okay? Then..."

One...two...three blows to the head and Aonung was flying backward toward the water, the impact of his body splashing the others.

"It's called a punch, bitch. Don't ever mess with them ever again."

Coolly, he walked off, but he only got to the brink of the shore when Aonung tackled him. Without warning, the friends joined in, one of them slapping Lo'ak with his tail.

"I have to get in there." You began, marching up, but Neteyam put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"No, no. I'll go," He grumbled, scratching his head.

"Let me get—"

"Just let me a big brother and defend you guys, okay?" Neteyam let out before grabbing one of the men and kicking him in the stomach.

"Show off," You muttered, putting your hands on your hips.

"This is so stupid!" Kiri put her hands around her mouth, projecting as you both watched Neteyam and Lo'ak.

The villagers nearby quickly noticed, and it wasn't long before a group of them came by and stepped in, separating them from Aonung and the others.

Two of the men held Neteyam and Lo'ak by their queues, leading them toward the village while they let Aonung and everyone else go.

Kiri stayed in the water, but you followed after them, a few paces behind. Jake was outside of your marui, sharpening his knives when you all arrived. Asking what happened, the two men explained to Jake that Lo'ak had started the fight.

Jake looked at them apologetically before they took their leave, and pushing them into the marui, he scolded, "What was the one thing I asked? The one thing?"

Looking downward, sand still caked onto their bodies and a few bloodied gashes, they both said in unison, "Stay out of trouble."

"Yes! Stay out of trouble." Jake emphasized

"Sir, it was my fault." Neteyam put his hands up in surrender.

Jake dismissed him, "I don't think so. You gotta stop taking the heat for this knucklehead."

"He called Kiri a freak, Jake." You said from behind them, leaning onto the side of the entrance, "And then he called us, freaks. What did you think was going to happen?"

Sighing, Jake pointed out of the marui, "Go apologize to Aonung."

"What?" You and Lo'ak both questioned together.

"He's the Chief's son. Do you understand?" Jake, frustrated, he put his fingers around the bridge of his nose, "I don't care how you do it. Just go make peace."

Trudging, Lo'ak walked off, shaking his head. He didn't even stop to give you a second glance, his anger festering.

You got up from your leaned position, lowering your eyes at Jake, "Come on, old man. You know that wasn't right."

"Chief's son, remember?" Jake repeated, but you scoffed at him.

"It's not our fault the Chief's son wants to be an ass." You muttered under your breath, which Neteyam and Jake both heard clearly.

Jake couldn't argue against that, sighing again as he turned to Neteyam, "So, what'd the other guys look like?"

"Worse." Neteyam gave his father a meek, but proud smile, "A lot worse."

"That's good. Now, get out of here. Both of you." You saw behind his stern expression that he was pleased, even it was under unfavorable circumstances.

You both obliged, walking out of the marui. Slinging your arm across Neteyam's shoulder and tousling his hair, you told him, "Let's go get you patched up with Tsireya, yeah?"

"What? Don't you want to go find your husband?" Neteyam raised an eyebrow at you, shocked.

"I think your brother needs to cool off by himself." Ignoring his teasing as you replied and remembering how he barely spared you a glance as he went to find Aonung, "And besides, if we go with him and Aonung is there, we're going to end up fighting again. Ugh, I want to punch him so bad."

"It was a great feeling finally punching him. I've been holding that in for weeks now." Neteyam agreed, chuckling proudly.

Letting a deep breath out, you scowled, "I know and I'm jealous. I should have just joined in, honestly."

Placing a hand on your shoulder, you walked side by side together, Neteyam explaining, "Had I let you, I don't think they would have survived by Lo'ak's hands if they landed a blow on you."

"If they landed a blow on me." You repeated, brushing some of the sand off his shoulder and face, "And you know they wouldn't have survived with all three of us."

Neteyam laughed, "You're right, you're right." Tapping his hand to his chest, he reassured you, "You're lucky to have such a mighty warrior as your future brother-in-law."

You pressed into the skin of one of his wounds and he flinched, the reaction making you chuckle, "Alright, "mighty" warrior, I think I see Tsireya up ahead."

Waving to get her attention, she finally noticed, running over. Looking at Neteyam. Her mouth dropping as concern flooded her eyes, "What happened?"

"This mighty warrior needs a couple bandages after fighting your brother and his friends." Taking Neteyam by the back of the neck, you pushed him along, Tsireya signaling for you to join her in her marui as she gathered supplies.

You all sat down on the floor as Tsireya grabbed bandages made of seaweed. You watched her intently as she instructed Neteyam to lift his arm up. Rubbing the underside of the seaweed, it began to glow slightly, revealing a jellied paste that was already slathered onto it.

"What is that?" You asked curiously, your mind filtering through all the possible properties of the plant.

"There are many types of seaweed. Some for our clothes, others for eating, but this one is for healing. You rub it to activate the part that heals the body." Tsireya clarified, passing you a piece that you could look at.

Trailing your fingers along it, you squinted, observing the plant's ridges, texture, and smell, highly intrigued.

"What else do you use for healing?" You placed the piece back onto the ground near the other ones.

Tsireya, happily, described the other healing practices of her people, the many rituals that they do to heal their sick and wounded combining their spirituality and their knowledge of the body.

Fascinated, you urged her to go on and she did, taking out a myriad of items from a basket in the corner, "As future tsahik, I am obligated to learn how to heal, but for now, I help my mother with rituals. These are just some of the many tools we have."

Displaying each of them in front of you, you were eager to learn and Neteyam listened as well as she described the usage of all her instruments.

As you took in the information, your eyes brightened and putting a hand over Tsireya's you stopped her, "I'm going to go find Kiri. I know she'd love to hear about this too."

"Yes! It would be wonderful for her to join." Tsireya beamed and you stood up, making your way to the beach where you last saw her.

It didn't take long for you to spot Kiri among the coral, the sea creatures entrancing her as they swam by her. She didn't notice you approaching until your movement stirred the fish she was looking at.

"Tsireya's teaching us about the tsahik's rituals. Healing plants and whatnot. I figured you'd want to learn too."

She didn't say anything for a moment, her eyes troubled as she looked downward.

"What's wrong Kiri? Don't tell me they tried to mess with you again 'cause I—"

"It's not that." She sighed, hugging her arms, "I don't care what they think of me. I just..." She paused, putting a hand at her forehead, "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"What? What is it?" You took her hands into yours and she made eye contact with you, hesitating for a moment before finally speaking.

"I feel Her, y/n. I feel Eywa." Suddenly, fish came from the depths of the water, circling Kiri's feet, "I hear Her breathing. I hear Her heartbeat. She's so close. She's just there...like a word about to be spoken."

You're not crazy, Kiri." You noticed the fish, the movement isolated only to her as you moved your foot near them, and crouching you looked closer, "These fish seem to know you feel Her too."

Kiri couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief, covering her hands with her face before crouching with you, "Just look."

When she placed her hand in the water, the fish moved from her feet to her hand, following her motions, "I don't know why I can do this. I don't know what the Great Mother wants from me."

You were amazed as you watched them flock to her, "If you can feel Her so strongly that means she can feel you too. You wouldn't have this...gift, if you weren't supposed to use it."

"You think of it as a gift?" Kiri looked at you with wonder, smiling.

"Yes! And you should too." Getting up from your crouched position, you extended your hand to her, "Now, are you going to come with me to see Tsireya?" You looked down, "The fish are invited too if they want to come."

She laughed at your joke, taking your hand as she stood up, "Yes, let's go to Tsireya."

Walking back toward the village, you asked Kiri more questions about what she could do, but she had only just grazed the surface of her abilities before she told you, uncertain of what more this inner power could offer. You were almost at the marui when you saw Aonung, whooping happily with his friends. You were surprised at first at the sight and expecting to see Lo'ak with them, you had assumed they all made up.

But, when you found that Lo'ak wasn't with them, you stomped over, trying to keep the fumes that were igniting inside of you at bay as you asked, "Where's Lo'ak?"

They all exchanged looks with one another, Aonung shrugging his shoulders as he replied with a snobby grin, "I thought it wouldn't be easy getting him outside the reef. But when we said we'd ask Neteyam instead, he was all for it. Then, we left him. Poor Forest Boy won't stand a chance out there."

His friends snickered, egging on more insults and Kiri watched as your whole demeanor changed, "What?"

Aonung put his hands up in surrender, "Do you Forest people not have good hearing too? He's probably dead now that—"

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence as you threw your knife at him hard, barely hitting him as it grazed his cheek, blood dripping from where it hit him, then landing on the column behind him.

"You better start telling me where he is because the next time, I don't plan on missing." You snarled and Kiri, knowing there was no use in calming you down, left to find her older brother.

"I'm not going to fight a girl." Aonung spat, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing about all of you." You spat back, throwing his own joke back at his face.

His friends hissed loudly at you, grabbing their knives out as they hunched over into their fighting positions. They lunged at you both, but you quickly disarmed the first one, kicking the knife away and sending him to the ground as you elbowed him hard.

The other attempted to slash his knife at you, but you dodged it, jumping backward and grabbing onto the hilt of it, leveraging your weight and flipping him over onto his friend that was groaning from your hit.

With the two of them out of the way, you made your way over to Aonung, grabbing him by the throat and backing him up into the column where your knife had landed.

You watched as his usual arrogance melted into panic and fear, your knife right beside his head, "This is me being nice. So, I'm gonna ask you again. Where is Lo'ak?" You took the knife out of the wood, placing it along his neck, "And you better start praying to Eywa that I like your answer."

"Y/n! Y/n!" You turned your head to find all of the Sullys with Tonowari, Ronal, and Tsireya, panicked as they took in the scene.

You let go of Aonung with a thrust, him and his friends gathering together.

"What the hell is going on?" Jake leaned forward, clearly embarrassed and trying to tame the situation.

"Tell them what you told me." Your eyes shooting arrows at Aonung, "Or should I?"

He was silent until Tonowari plunged his spear down forcefully, "Speak boy!"

"We took him outside of the reef." Aonung admitted, avoiding his father's eyes.

You looked at Aonung, your mouth hung open with disgust at his purposeful omission of the truth.

Neytiri put her hand over her mouth, tears threatening to fall from her eyes as she was overcome with worry and anger. Jake put a hand over her shoulder to comfort her.

"This is true, Aonung? What were you thinking?" Ronal grabbed her son by the neck.

Aonung said nothing again as his mother pulled him away, scolding him harshly. Tonowari looked at Jake and Neytiri apologetically, "We will signal the horns and look for your son."

Nodding, Jake agreed, looking at Neytiri, "Stay with Tuk. I'll fly out to find him."

You were about to follow the other warriors for the search party, but Jake put a hand on your arm, "And you."

"What?" You tried to shimmy your arm away, but Jake maintained his grip.

"You pulled a knife on him? What was going through your head?"

You took a deep breath, "I was threatening him! I wasn't going to kill him!"

Jake groaned and you put your hands up in surrender, "Okay, fine nothing was going through my head. I was just angry...you know because he left Lo'ak out there to die. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Go be with Neytiri and Tuk." Jake demanded, letting go of your arm.

"No, I'm going with you. I have to help." You refused, but he shook his head.

"No, you need to cool off. We'll find him, y/n."

As much as you didn't want to, you trudged over to Neytiri and Tuk, catching up with the both of them.

"Is Lo'ak going to be okay?" Tuk asked you, holding on tightly to her mother.

"Don't worry about your brother. He'll be alright." You provided her that comfort on the exterior, but inside you were a nervous wreck.

You did well trying to hide how you felt, not wanting to create any more tense worry in Neytiri and Tuk, who busied themselves with weaving as they waited for Lo'ak to be found.

It wasn't like hunting outside of the reef was completely forbidden, but in the time that you had been at Awa'atlu, you had only ever gone outside the reef once while under the supervision of Tonowari. And he had instructed that only the skilled hunters would frequent those waters.

Tsireya had warned you all about the dangers of the open ocean. It was the exact reason why their village was separated from it through those huge wooden barriers. There were dangers beyond even the scope of the metkayina, and knowing that sent you spiraling.

Although your mind wanted to think rationally, your heart's troubled murmurs drowned out any possibility of that.

That fear of loss was so deeply rooted into you. You had died all those years ago to save Jake.

But who were you not able to save?

The memory of Grace and Trudy lay like stones in your heart, wounds on your heart continually fresh but torturously cauterized as you tried to put at the forefront that you are not your father's sins; that inner battle within you amplifying this unexpected influx of desperation and fear.

Mixtures of guilt and regret flooded inside of you as you compared how you felt dealing with your losses when you were human and the seemingly inevitable potentiality of them at that moment.

You shivered as you anxiously wondered what you should have done.

You should have followed Lo'ak out when Jake told him to apologize. Maybe if you had done that, he wouldn't have ended up getting lost out there alone. Because at least if you had went, you would have ended up getting lost together.

And as you reflected on your past, that present moment begged for you to consider that perhaps you should have jumped into the helicopter when you helped Grace, Jake, and Norm break out of their cell, that maybe you would have pushed Grace further enough so she wouldn't have gotten hit. Then maybe you and Trudy would have ended up having one last flight together.

When the horns finally blew again and the outcries of the warriors shouted Lo'ak's return, the three of you all immediately got up. Following the villagers who were riding in the water on the walkways, you moved through the crowd of people gathered at one of the docks.

When you caught a glimpse of him, you ran as quickly as you could, Neytiri and Tuk following behind you. Lo'ak was walking away from the dock, his shoulders slumped and his head down.

Neteyam was right behind him, following closely. You were running too fast to slow your pace down, too overwhelmed and happy to see him. Catching him off guard, you hugged him tightly, almost knocking him to the ground.

You closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, a sigh of relief escaping you, "I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

Lo'ak didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you too, savoring in your embrace with a wide grin, "You really missed me, huh?"

"She almost killed Aonung." Neteyam revealed and you glared at him, causing him to shrug, "What? It's true. I have never seen you so angry before, y/n."

He exchanged a look with his brother, Lo'ak mouthing, "Really?" and Neteyam nodding profusely, mouthing back, "Yes!"

When Neytiri and Tuk caught up, they were both relieved to see Lo'ak. Neytiri inspecting Lo'ak before going to Jake. Tuk stayed with you though, Neteyam picking her up as you noted the cuts and scratches on Lo'ak.

You leaned back, your arms still attached to him, "Tsireya showed me how to use her seaweed bandages. Let's go get some from her."

"The blame is mine. Why did you speak for me?" Aonung's voice rang out from behind you, his voice becoming louder as he approached.

You pulled your knife out again, extending your hand as you stepped protectively between him and Lo'ak, "Back up."

Then, realizing what he said, you raised an eyebrow at Lo'ak, "What did he just say you did?"

Lo'ak merely shrugged, cavalier as he glared at Aonung, "Because I know what it feels like to be one big disappointment."

Without a second glance, Lo'ak took you by the hand, walking off with you quickly, leaving Neteyam and Tuk.

You put your knife back into your sheath, questioning him again, "Seriously?"

"Did you see his face when I said that?" Lo'ak laughed, satisfied as he smirked, "This might have been the best thing that's happened to me here."

You pinched his ear hard, "I was so worried about you and you're telling me this is the best thing that happened to you?" You let go of his hand and started heading in another direction, "Go to Tsireya by yourself."

"Wait, wait where are you going?" He chased after you, catching your arm but you swatted him away, "I thought you were never letting me out of your sight again?"

"I change my mind." You dove into the water and he swam after you.

Nightfall commanded the bioluminescence of the plants and creatures, illuminating the water that reflected the darkness of the sky. Your own skin was glowing as you swam, the light blue of your markings matching some of the colors around you.

When he finally caught up with you, you signed for him to go away, but he didn't listen, swimming alongside you anyway until you breached the surface for a breath.

Only a few meters from the beach, you looked up at the sky, the sight of the moons glorious and with them, you spotted Earth, a tiny star compared to the orbs near it.

"I didn't know you cared about me this much." Lo'ak was just trying to get under your skin, his tone unserious as he attempted to lighten the mood.

Frustrated, you swung at him, but he dodged it, sending him toward the water with a splash. Wiping the water from his face, his eyes widened as you yelled fervidly, "I've lost almost everyone I've ever cared about, so maybe I should stop caring about you too! It'll save me all the worrying and the pain for when you do stupid shit like this!"

Lo'ak's face dropped, his heart aching sorely as he watched you quickly turn away from him, hesitant to look him in the eyes as tears that you couldn't control began to fall.

"Hey, hey," Lo'ak came up from behind you, placing an affectionate hand on your shoulder, prompting your attention as you turned.

He wiped the last of your tears, but you still avoided looking at him, focused on the water below, "I'm sorry y/n. This is my fault. I'm an idiot."

"You are!" You highlighted and you exhaled, finally meeting his gaze, "They left you out there to die! And you really could have! All because you wanted to show off in front of them!"

"I'm not going anywhere." He pulled you into him, hugging you as you kept your arms at his chest, your head rested on his shoulder.

"That better be a promise, Lo'ak." You pulled away, looking at him, still angry.

“I promise I’m not going anywhere only if you promise too, alright?”

“I promise,” Hands at his chest, your eyes fierce, the words coming out like a sacred command, “No dying.”

“Yeah, no dying.” Lo’ak repeated, and guiding your head back to rest onto his shoulder he wrapped his arms around you once more.

Feeling the warmth between your bodies, comforted by the feeling of safety, your heart spoke for you, "You're not a disappointment, by the way."

Lo'ak was moved, unable to find anything to say, but hugging you even tighter to acknowledge you. You knew exactly what that meant and reciprocating it, you moved your arms away from his chest, gliding them along his back until you found the spot you liked, closing that gap between you as you met him with an equal force of affection, and feeling it deep within as you closed your eyes.

When you finally opened them, you immediately took notice of his wounds, sporadic on his body, the blood from his cuts long clotted and his bruises turned purple.

Extending your arms out, Lo'ak sighed at the sudden break in contact. He already knew what you were thinking and trying to ease your worries, he placed his hands on your cheeks lifting your head up to meet his eyes, “I’m really okay. These are nothing.”

“Yeah but we should still go to Tsireya and have her put those bandages on.” You protested.

Lo’ak grunted, squishing your cheeks playfully, “I don’t want to go to Tsireya, I just want to be with you right now.”

In retaliation, you pinched his cheek back, "I think you missed me more than I missed you."

"Of course I did." He said back to you without a second thought, "And honestly, I wish you were out there with me. I—"

He stopped himself, choosing his words carefully as his smile faltered. It was instantly worrying to watch his face drop and you asked urgently, "What? Why? What happened?"

"Okay, I did almost die out there—" It was as if he saw your heart drop as your expression matched that sinking feeling, your concern shrouded from your eyebrows to the frown of your lips, "But, I wasn't alone. I got saved."

"Saved?" Begging for more answers, you blinked at him, "By who, by what?"

"A tulkun."

-

| prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Author's Note:

My lovers,

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the new chapters in the comments! :)

How did you like this new one? I swear holding hands is Lo'ak and reader's thing!!

Plus, Tonowari thinking they're married just made so much sense to me, don't you agree?

From my heart, thank you again for reading this new chapter! Please please please let me know your thoughts and favorite moments!

I feel like this is my version of the beach episode in an anime— I wanted it to just be filled with small moments between all of them while also showing how they were getting along with their new lives.

Again, thank you guys again for reading and staying tuned. I appreciate you all! For everyone who's waited for this series to come back, I love you!!

Please always take care of yourselves!

love,

nana <3

new tag honor list! @emilymikado — thanks for the recent love on this series <3

[rose-bud-lite]

it should be loki.

a / n : i lowk can't remember what loki should be doing ??? hi hello , but if i do remember correctly — it was him jacking off lol. (also this is president loki cs i said so) the link is porn btw .

it takes a lot to make him get to the point of rubbing one out . his patience with you unreasonably high— that being said however, you get him to the point of jacking off a lot. you two can't be together at all times anyway, like now.

he's sat comfortably against his office chair, eyes flicking back and forth to his cock and back to his phone— pictures he had taken when he was inside your soft walls, filling his phone.

his lips twitch upwards, he hums as he sets his phone down beside him on the desk— his hands now going to remove his cock from the restraints of his pants.

if you were here you'd be drooling right now, he chuckles to himself. he pulls his cock out, slowly pumping as he gently rubs his balls— a soft hum exiting his lips.

the thought of you floods his brain, wishing it were you who were touching his cock right now— practically dreaming about the way you kiss the tip of his cock before every blowjob.

"mhm, atta girl." he hums, fisting his cock harder and faster— his body leaning back against his chair, fucking up into his fist in sporadic bursts. he huffs, feeling like a hormonal teenager— but he can't help it when it's you. his other hand moves from his balls to his mouth, spitting into his palm before rubbing it over the tip.

he leans his head back with a grin, shushed moans coming from his mouth as he double fists his cock— twisting his hands in a small attempt to do it the way you would.

"g'nna cum all over your pretty face, darling." he whispers to himself, eyes shutting tightly to envision you kneeling in front of his cock— mouth ajar and the tip of your tongue bumping against his cock as he jacks off into your mouth. it takes four more rough thrusts of his hips to release the sharp coil in his stomach— cumming, he bites his lower lip and opens his eyes to watch his own cum shoot from the tip of his cock. he sighs to himself, cringing for a moment before grabbing his phone and snapping a picture of his hand holding his now semi-hard cock— the tip still oozing cum.

visual .

[rose-bud-lite]

Now lets play the hit game: does he like me back or is he gay

[rose-bud-lite]

I LOVE ALL YOUR PETER WORKS AAAA and i was wondering how do you picture peter having a crush on someone who isn’t exactly a nerd like he is (so she would be soooo impressed by anything he says even if she wouldn’t show it) because i bet he would be a cutie patatooie anyway aaaa thanks for your time and take all the time you need, xoxo thanks again!!

this is a little short, sorry. i guess my writing juices are starting to falter a bit, lol. hope you like it!

send an ask for my 2,000 followers celebration!

warnings/tags: awkward peter, peter trying to flirt and be cool, fluff

He doesn’t think he has a chance at first. You’re not into tech. You don’t read comics. You don’t speak “science.” And yet—every time he starts rambling about string theory or particle acceleration, you just… watch him. Quiet. Patient. And he melts.

You don’t interrupt. You don’t nod off. You just listen, arms crossed, head tilted a little, like “what kind of adorable alien are you?” You don’t say you’re impressed—but your eyes sparkle and he feels it.

Peter’s convinced you’re secretly bored. He’ll backtrack mid-sentence: “Sorry, that was dumb. You probably don’t care about quantum tunneling—” You shrug. “I mean… I don’t know what that is, but the way you say it makes it sound cool.” (Peter.exe has stopped working.)

You never ask him to stop being smart. He notices that. He’s used to people zoning out when he geeks out. But you? You let him talk. And sometimes you smile in this quiet, amused way like he’s showing you a magic trick. It makes him trip over his own words.

He tries to impress you without being too obvious. Corrects a math problem on the board with casual genius. Helps you carry your books and explains a concept like it’s NBD. Accidentally uses a ten-dollar word and blushes when you repeat it back.

You start teasing him. Just a little. “Didn’t realize you were fluent in nerd.” “You say electrons like it’s a love language.” “Should I start calling you Professor Parker?” He turns red every time. But he lives for it.

He overanalyzes every single moment. “She said my name. Was it normal-sounding? Or like Peter? Was there a lilt? Is lilt a real thing? Should I google that?”

You once gave him a compliment so casual he nearly dropped his phone. “You talk like a genius.” He stared at you for five full seconds and went, “What? Who? Me? Genius? Haha no. I mean—thank you?? Wait—”

He tries to learn what you’re into, too. Even if it’s totally different. You like photography? He reads articles. You like fashion? He watches one runway show and pretends he didn’t tear up when the music hit. You like poetry? He copies down your favorite lines and pretends he’s just “doodling.”

You once caught him rambling nervously about satellites and orbital physics and smiled just the tiniest bit. He caught it. Thought about it for the next eight hours.

He gets extra flustered when you touch his arm or laugh at something he says. “Haha yeah totally—wait what was I saying? Satellites? No, uh, I mean moons—um, moons are cool—wow okay bye!”

You know he has a crush. You’re not oblivious. But you kind of like watching him try. He’s awkward. Sweet. Weirdly charming. And when he lights up talking about something he loves? You don’t care if you understand it or not. You’re just happy it’s him.

[rose-bud-lite]

you & me masterlist

(peter parker x reader)

NYC can get lonely and it's hard to make friends. nothing particularly exciting ever happens in your life. until one day you meet a boy on your roof. and get saved by new york's favorite superhero. your life quickly becomes exciting as ever trying to juggle the two of them.

NEW CHAPTERS BEING POSTED EVERY WEEK!

you & me

chapter one: the stranger on the roof

chapter two: we’re not really strangers, are we?

chapter three: the cute boy with the disdain for beer

chapter four: how close?

chapter five: trust me

chapter six: do you want to kiss me or not?

chapter seven: let me make it better

chapter eight: i hope it makes you smile

chapter nine: because i love you

chapter ten: spider-man things

P.S. MY INBOX IS OPEN FOR ANY COMMENTS, SUGGESTIONS, REQUESTS, ETC., FEEL FREE TO SHOOT ME A MESSAGE :)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello Everyone! Auden here! I know it's been a couple years but I recently got a new laptop that inspired me to continue writing again. My life has changed drastically since the last time I was active here on Tumblr, but it feels good to be back "home." I have missed all of you so much and look forward to knowing my new readers and followers through this series. It's intended to be imagined as Andrew Garfield's Peter Parker, but any Peter Parker will suffice! Just ten chapters of me pouring my heart out to my favorite fictional crush, Spider-Man. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feel free to shoot me a message via my inbox! Don't be shy!

[rose-bud-lite]

isn't that crazy?

peter parker x fem!reader

summary: reader storms into peter's apartment, upset over her last tinder date being a complete tool and refusing to eat her out. peter gets a little... distracted.

wc: ~2.1k

cw: ! MDNI ! not full smut, but descriptions of peter being hard, talking about oral (fem!receiving), dry humping, hints of peter being an absoulte munch, swearing, peter getting so embarassed he makes half-jokes to himself about suicide, friends to lovers sexual tension babyyyyyyyyyy

masterlist and taglist!

he didn't mean it. honestly.

in fact, there's nothing peter wanted more in this moment than not to be painfully hard. but here he was, and he didn't know what the fuck to do.

you had let yourself into his apartment with your spare, angrily marching down his hallway already yelling, up in arms about your latest shitty tinder hook up. his bedroom door slammed open, causing him to jump from where he was working at his desk. he looked to you with wide eyes as you continued the rant you'd started upon entering the threshold of his apartment.

"i mean, seriously? i give you the best head of your life, and you return with saying how 'disgusting' going down on me would be? and then you have the audacity to get mad at me when i don't want to fuck you? what the fuck is wrong with the men of new york?!"

you threw yourself down on his bed, frustrated sighs wracking through your chest as you attempted to calm yourself down, hands rough in your hair. peter stared back with bewilderment, and unfortunately, upon the thought of eating you out, an insane hard-on.

it's not like you hadn't talked about sex in the past five years of knowing peter, the two of you told each other everything. peter had just never seen you so... vulgar about it. so frustrated. he knew he needed to come up with a response — hell, he should've a solid thirty seconds ago — but he was currently willing his blood to stay in the upper half of his body, failing miserably as he couldn't fight off images of you spread for him out of his mind.

"what do you think, pete?" your voice snapped him back to earth.

"w-what?"

you gave a shrug, staring down at your lap and thankfully not seeing peter adjust himself and bring a sweatshirt into his own lap.

"i dunno, maybe i'm being the crazy one here. is it so bad to want head in return?" you stared at him expectantly, like you hadn't just asked him the most insane question he'd ever heard.

he shook his head a little too quickly, mentally cringing at how awkward he was being. parker, pull your shit together!

"no," he responded honestly. "i don't think you're being crazy." i think he's crazy for not wanting to.

you gave another heavy sigh, this time your turn to shake your head. "this is the third guy in a row who was appalled i even dare to bring it up. isn't that fucking crazy?"

peter nodded as though he was in a trance, eyes glossy as he stared at you. his reply fell to a whisper, not trusting the pitch of his own voice right now. "fucking crazy."

he held your gaze for a while as you sat in a comfortable silence. maybe for you, peter, however, was looking for any possible exit strategy that could come his way. his mind was going a million miles per hour, rushing thoughts of having you under him keeping him twitching against his sweatpants. he shifted in his seat, a lapse of judgment on peter's end as the sweatshirt in his lap moved against his groin, a sharp exhale falling from his gaped lips as he did everything in his power to hold back a moan.

if you noticed, you didn't let him know, giving him a soft smile as you stood from his bed to walk closer, gaze now heavy on the physics notes sprawled on the desk. you leaned over his shoulder, a hand on the back of his chair to stabilize yourself as you peered down.

"i'm sorry for complaining about my trashy sex life, this looks a thousand times more important. jesus, what even is all this?"

you leaned down further, your chest now brushing against his shoulder blade as you skimmed the papers, breath hot against his ear. normally, your proximity was no issue for peter — you've been best friends for years, touch wasn't foreign. but with his current circumstances, your touch against him was sending his senses into overdrive, and he was going to combust.

"j-just... physics... i-i guess." he stuttered, not daring to move his head a millimeter as your cheek nearly grazed his own.

you gave a gentle chuckle, the sound earning a groan deep in peter's throat before he knew to stop it. "yeah, i could figure out that much, parker. what's up with you? you're being weird."

you pull back slightly to adjust, immediately turning around to sit on peter's knee. again, it was something you'd done hundreds of times before with no other thoughts or implications, but with the sinful chains around his thoughts right now, it only threw him off more. you went to grab the sweatshirt in his lap, hoping to shift onto him more comfortably. he immediately grabbed your hand to stop you.

"no! i-i mean, i'm fine. i'm not being weird." he let go of your hand, crossing his arms and giving you a shrug, his best attempt at coming off nonchalant. his best wasn't good enough.

"yeah right, peter. what's your prob-" while speaking, you had grabbed for the sweatshirt quicker this time, using the momentum to immediately swing your leg over both his thighs to sit in his lap properly. you sat down fully, cheeks instantly flushing pink, "oh."

there were many times in his life when peter thought about ending it all, but none as much as now. he was going to have to either move countries, or jump from the empire state without his web shooters. those were the only two options circling his head as his wide eyes met yours, a red tint taking over his entire upper body.

"i'm so sorry, h-holy shit," he breathed out, grabbing at your hips to lift you off of him so he could get out of here as quickly as possible. you resisted him, though, doing what you could to fight against him and stay firmly planted on his lap. that made him panic even more. because, of course. he wasn't going to have time to kill himself. you were going to kill him first.

"i-i tried to, i don't... i'm so sorry."

you put your hands on his chest, a genuine look of bewilderment splayed across your features. "is that... is this because of me? what i was talking about?"

not only were you going to kill him, you were going to torment him about it first. and he knew he deserved it.

"pete—"

"i'm so sorry, please let me go, i didn't, i—"

"pete, listen to me."

"this is so embarrassing, i really didn't mean to—"

"peter," you let out his name in a voice he hadn't heard before, something torn between a growl and a moan — all while dragging your hips up against him. he gave a shaky exhale at the pressure, the feeling of you rutting against his cock stopping his guilty rambling.

you found his gaze, his pupils blown and irises dark, a direct correlation to the twitching of his cock as you gave him another soft roll of your hips. his hands found your hips again, holding you firmly in place to stop the teasing movement. his brows knit together, geunine confusion plastered across his face.

"what... what are you doing?" he was breathless, chest heaving as he stared back at you. you hesitantly reached a hand to his hair, palm splaying out on his scalp as your thumb traced circles on his temple. even in his worst possible moments, you were there to calm him down. he had absolutely no idea why you weren't yelling at him, or what you were even still doing here, but he wasn't going to fight it. he melted into your touch, and his breathing hitched as you leaned in closer.

"have you always felt this way?" you whispered, breath against his cheeks sending goosebumps across his body.

"felt... what?" he tried to play dumb, despite the fact that you could also feel how excruciatingly hard he was against you. when he daydreamed about confessing he was in love with you, this was never a scenario in his head.

you let your hand graze slowly down the side of his face, fingers coming to trace his sculpted jawline. his breath didn't just hitch at this point, he was pretty sure his lungs stopped working entirely.

"why haven't you ever said anything?" it wasn't angry, it was a genuine question.

he let out a scoff, a hand leaving your hip to scratch the back of his neck, embarrassment covering his features for the hundredth time this evening. "yeah, well. this isn't exactly how you want to tell your best friend you love her."

your eyes widened, and peter's followed, realization of his words hitting him.

"you love me?"

"holy shit, that's, i didn't, oh my god that's—"

peter's panic was cut off and replaced with awe as he felt your lips crash against his, a feeling he'd been dreaming of since the day he'd met you back in high school. he immediately reciprocated, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and letting a long overdue moan escape from his lips. you smiled against it, both hands interlocking with those brown curls you'd been dying to run your hands through, just like this.

peter nipped at your bottom lip, earning a sharp gasp from you that allowed his tongue much-needed entry into your mouth. the kiss was nothing short of hungry, years of pent-up feelings being released hot and noisily as peter bruised his lips against yours.

he pulled back sharply, out of breath and looking at you as though you weren't real. "wait, i dont... you...?"

you laughed at the lack of his question, though instantly understanding him. you gave a soft nod, a blush creeping over your cheeks as you brought your hands to cup his face. while the kiss was downright sinful, the way you looked at him filled him with nothing but reverence.

"every shitty tinder date happened after i chickened out of telling you how i felt. i just couldn't stand to lose you, peter." you added sadly.

he gave you a knowing look, nodding in agreement. "i know what you mean," he squeezed your hips, a contagious smirk controlling his lips. "wait, you've been going on shitty tinder dates since we moved out for college three years ago."

you returned the smirk, fingers trailing down to ghost the tendons in his neck. "i know."

peter pulled you in again, no longer embarrassed at the desperate noises escaping his throat as he attacked your lips, this kiss somehow hungrier than the last. you grinded down against him again, a raspy "fuck" leaving his swollen lips as he held a firm grip on your hips to keep you moving.

you chuckled at his desperation.

"you're telling me i could've been doing this the whole time instead of shitty jocks thinking its gross to make a woman feel good?" you sighed out as he trailed down your neck, teeth nipping and bruising your soft flesh as he continued to move against your hips, leaving you to soak up the feeling out how hard he was underneath you.

peter groaned in frustration, standing quickly with you still wrapped around his hips. he held you with one arm as though you weighed nothing, lips still attached to the pulse point in your neck. he used the other to catch himself as he threw you down onto his bed. you gasped, your back hitting the soft mattress as you took in peter's frame over you, hands on either side of your head.

he pulled back from his artwork on your neck, his jaw clenched. "i can't believe anyone could ever tell you such nonsense,"

he leaned down again to peck at your lips, hands making their way down to explore your sides. "i can't tell you what an honor it is to even think about how good you taste," he growled in your ear.

you gave a gasp, his words alone enough to have your cunt aching, as if you hadn't been since the second you sat down on his lap. "you... you think about that?"

he let out a chuckle as he sat back, his hands teasingly making their way to the button of your jeans. he ran his fingers under your waistline as his other hand tugged at your zipper, the feeling of your muscles tensing under his touch driving him absolutely crazy.

"more times than you could torture out of me," he pulled your jeans down, nearly finishing in his sweats at the sight of the delicate lace underwear against your burning skin.

"can i show you what i think about, sweetheart?"

[rose-bud-lite]

want you to stay - peter parker

summary: peter is absolutely appalled when he sees you beginning to leave the party when his frat brother yells "if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, get out!" wc: 2.1k+ a/n: new au :))

It was getting late.

Not in the sense that you were tired, but you’d had your fun with your friends, all of whom were ready to leave, and the one person you were here to see kept on disappearing from your sight. You didn’t want to follow Peter around like a clingy situationship, so you focused on making the most of the party with the friends you had come with. But the boy dipped in and out of the house, switching between wrecking havoc with his friends and finding you inside.

Peter had stolen you away from your friends for a dance, pressing you up against him and moving his hips with yours. You had felt his smile against the skin of your neck, pressing the occasional kiss as you sang along to lyrics of the deafening music playing. You had spun in Peter’s hold, slinging your arms over his shoulders. Peter had leaned his head down, his nose brushing against yours, lips hovering over yours. Your breath had hitched then, and Peter had smiled widely, chuckling at your reaction, as though you’d never kissed before.

“Give me a kiss.” He had whispered, and you didn’t know how you heard him over all the noise in the house. Perhaps you had just read his lips and hoped he had said what you wanted to hear. But you pushed yourself up on your toes anyway and kissed him anyway. Peter’s hands came up to cup your cheeks, and just as you pulled tilted your head to deepen the passionate kiss, he had jumped away from you.

Blinking quickly, you took in the sight of one of Peter’s frat brothers, tightly clutching Peter’s shoulders. You hadn’t heard what he had said, but Peter had ducked his face down shyly, a hand trailing down to your waist as his friend continued speaking loudly to him. Peter tugged you closer to him, telling you “I’ll be back!” But he never returned.

Now, you were huddled with your friends in a corner, discussing the plans to return to one of your dorms and debrief the night. Luckily though, you didn’t have to discuss the situation any further, because suddenly, the music cut out and someone clambered on to a coffee table.

“Everybody listen up! If you’re not a brother, or fucking a brother, GET OUT!”

Your friends scoffed, and you could nearly hear the roll of their eyes. “Let’s go.” You told them, nodding towards the door. You took the hand offered to you, following the crowd out of the house. But as you approached the door, a hand curled around the wrist of your free arm, softly pulling to attract your attention.

Peter stood in the midst of the crowd, a confused look on his face. You felt your friends’s eyes on the two of you, exchanging glances behind your back. “Hey, where are you going?” Peter’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, the confusion clear on his face. Clearing your throat, you felt your face heat up at his question. Shrugging, you said “I don’t, we were just-“

“Didn’t you hear what he said?”

“I did, yeah. I just, I didn’t…”

Peter shifted his weight from one foot to the other, removing his hand from around your wrist. He swallowed thickly, throat bobbing. “You don’t want to stay?” Your eyes widened as you realised what this looked like; you escaping his party with your friends and averting all his questions.

“No, I-I mean, do you want me to stay?” You hated yourself for how small you sounded — how you were clearly seeking his approval. Peter smiled, nodding assuredly. “Yeah, I do. I want you to stay.” It was impossible for you not to smile at his words, or to feel insecure anymore. Chewing on your bottle lip, you turned over to face your friends, all of whom were expectantly looking at you.

“Okay, have fun.” One of them said, leading the others outside and ditching you with your… Peter. “Come here.” He mumbled, extending an arm towards you. You pushed past the bodies around you until you were close enough for Peter to wrap a muscular arm around your shoulders. He led you towards the emptying living room, keeping his gaze on you. Peter paused in the hallway, looking past you and towards his frat brothers lounged on the couches.

“Do you want to come up to my room? Or stay down here a little?” Wrapping an arm around Peter’s waist, you followed his gaze, eyes widening as the men in the living room broke into another fit of loud laughter. “Can we go to your room?”

“Yeah, of course baby.” You felt your face heat up at the pet name, letting Peter guide you up the set of familiar stairs. His hands lingered on your waist until the door to his room was shut.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” You said, voice quiet as you sat down in Peter’s bed. Peter followed you, standing in front of you. He cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” You attempted to bow your head down to avoid his gaze, but Peter’s hand was slipping to your chin and pushing your head up. When your eyes met his, he smiled, and you couldn’t help the way your lips tugged upwards in response.

“Do you want to take off your makeup? Matt’s girlfriend basically lives here, so he should have some wipes or something.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.” Peter’s hand dropped from your face and he scoffed disapprovingly, instantly turning around and walking out of the room. He left the door wide open behind him, so you saw as he trotted down the stairs, his shoes padding loudly on the wooden floor. You tapped your fingers on the fabric of your skirt, knee beginning to bounce nervously. When Peter returned up the stairs, he was accompanied by someone – tall with a head of thick black hair. He wore a navy blue polo shirt, and guided Peter into the room directly facing the one you were sat in. Matt lingered in the doorway of his bedroom when Peter returned to his own room, carrying a bottle of micellar water and cotton pads.

Matt caught your eye, putting a hand up and waving animatedly. “Hi y/n.” He said, drawing your name out in a sing song voice. “Hi Matt.” Unlike the other frat brothers, you were a little familiar with Matt, who had met you the very first time you’d entered this house. It was against your free will that you had met, but retrospectively, you were thankful for the familiar face. Peter twisted his torso, frowning at his housemate, who travelled across the hallway in a few steps, leaning against the doorway of Peter’s room. “So…” He started, waggling his eyebrows as he nodded towards Peter.

“Matt, go away, she doesn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“No, that makes me sound so rude, Peter!”

“No, it’s alright, we get it. We’ll all be here tomorrow morning anyway, if you want to meet the others. Or not the others, just Meg. She really wants to meet you.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be sure to say hi to Megan if I see her.”

“Oh, she’ll make sure you see her tomorrow.”

“Okay, Matt. That’s enough.” Matt rolled his eyes, slapping a hand on the top of the doorway before walking down the stairs. Peter closed the door gently, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Is this okay?” He asked, presenting you the items in his hands. “It’s more than okay, Pete. Thank you.”

Peter watched silently as you rubbed the cotton pad across your face, makeup smearing on your face. He leaned forward, dragging the trash can from under his bedside table towards you. You dropped the used cotton pads in the bin, running a hand across your face when it was finally clean. It felt odd for some reason – being so domestic with Peter when you were usually in and out of his room after a hook up, or a date that had never been labeled as one. Standing up slowly, you wobbled on your feet, forgetting about the heels you wore. Peter’s hand shot out, steadying your waist. “I’m going to wash my face, if that’s okay.”

Peter nodded, standing up. He kept his eye on you as you walked into the hallway, entering the bathroom. He walked over to his closet to find you a hoodie and sweatpants. When you returned, face still mildly damp and eyes tired, Peter was quick to wrap you in his arms again. He smiled as you melted against him, cheek pressed against his chest. The touch was nice and warm, and had you leaning into his body. “You tired?”

“M’yeah.” Peter chuckled, chest bubbling against your face. He pulled away slightly, but your arms kept him close to you. “Come on, just to get changed then we can cuddle.”

Cuddle. You barely ever cuddled, unless you were watching a movie, which led to inevitable sex. Peter steered you out of your small top and bra, guiding your face into the hole of his hoodie, followed by your arms into the sleeves. You wiggled out of your skirt, shaking your head when Peter offered you his sweatpants. He chuckled, folding them again. “Do you want some water?”

“Yes please. God, I can already feel the headache coming.”

“You sobered up?”

“Yeah. I didn’t get drunk, I think it’s just the noise. How do you feel?”

“Yeah, good. I didn’t drink much either, so I feel sharp.”

You grinned, accepting the metal bottle of water Peter offered you. It had a capital 'P' on the front, and wasn’t completely full, but you took two big gulps from it anyway, then offered it to Peter. “Sharp? Senses acute, Mr. Parker?”

“Yeah, exactly like that.” His smile disappeared behind the rim of the water bottle, and he took a long sip, sighing loudly in satisfaction when he swallowed. You climbed into Peter’s bed, settling under the covers. Peter undressed from his jeans and t-shirt, leaving them in a pile on the floor before reaching for the sweatpants he had just folded. He followed you into the bed, hands finding the curve of your waist and pulling you flush against his bare chest.

“Thank you for staying.” He whispered. You smiled softly, pushing yourself up on the bed so you could press your lips against his. Peter’s eyes fluttered shut as he relaxed into the kiss, pressing himself harder against you. He stroked his fingers against your cheek as his legs tangled with your bare ones under the sheets.

“I’m happy I did.” You finally said, settling back down on the pillow. Peter sighed, breaking eye contact for a brief moment and opening his mouth, as though to say something, then closing it again. “What’s wrong?”

Peter’s gaze snapped back up, and his mouth dipped open again, though no words came out. He looked around, gathering his thoughts before finally saying “I’ve really been enjoying our time together.” You froze, eyes hardening as you pushed yourself to sit up, the cautious tone Peter was using sending you into a panic. Peter followed your movements, twiddling with his thumbs as he continued, “But I don’t- I think we could, I could enjoy it more if I really understood the nature of our relationship.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, scanning Peter’s posture. His shoulders were slightly hunched, nerves clouding his eyes as he gathered his thoughts. “Pete? I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend? Officially?”

“Oh!” Peter’s chest deflated at your quiet gasp, and he nodded, as though you’d already rejected him. You reached out to place a hand on his thigh, attracting his gaze back up to your face. “Peter, I’d love to.”

“You would?” Peter grinned widely, a relieved sigh leaving him as you nodded, shuffling closer to him on the bed. Peter licked his lips, cupping your cheeks and leaning forward to kiss you quickly. You giggled, launching yourself onto Peter to hug him, arms settling around his waist. Peter laughed, kissing the top of your head and he laid back down on the bed. The room was silent for a long moment, the two of you holding each other lovingly.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights?” He asked quietly, but you shook your head softly. “I’m not really tired anymore.”

“Oh... Do you want to kiss for a little bit?

“Yeah.”

taglist: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @dearlizzies, @bxuzi, @rory-cakes, @dlljdhsh, @aouoo, @fandomhoe101

[rose-bud-lite]

I saw you reblog winter soldier fanart (marvel rivals version), and i remembered you wrote something for Venom, and i really liked it so i was hoping to read about more characters from the game!

For a popular game, there aren't too many x reader posts about them, and everyone looks so good! If it's alright with you, can we please have Winter Soldier, Loki, Moon Knight, Spider-Man and Iron Fist reacting to the new, hot strategist (healer/support reader), and what it would be like being on the same team as them. SFW or spicy or both is up to you, whatever you feel like :)

I'm gonna make these ones fluffy cause I'm in a fluffy mood.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes, Lin Lie, Loki, Peter Parker, Steven Grant x Reader

Tags: fluff, co-workers, injury, distractions, flirting, protectiveness

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Gonna try to make this not angsty but no promises.

Bucky is the most protective one of the new healer on the team. Logically he knows that you can take care of yourself, that you're there to take care of everyone else in fact. But he can also use that as an excuse to stick close to you, you are the healer, the support and he is like your grumpy bodyguard. Grateful that he's wearing his mask at all times so no one can see him blush when you flirt with him and tell him what a great bodyguard he is.

Lin gets hurt a lot when he's fighting so he's often the one who's the recipient of your care. You can try telling him to be careful but he's not really going to listen, not because he's ignoring you but because he knows his teammates need him. He could never leave them to fight on their own, or leave you alone. Sometimes he feels like you're too cute to be a badass healer, but then you get an easy kill and prove him wrong.

Loki starts flirting with you almost right away. Did you seriously think he would leave you alone when you're the one who's gonna patch him up after his eventual victory? Actually if you really want to make sure he's fully healed then you should give him a kiss or two, that would fix him right up, and he's not lying. Except of course he is, but it's for a good, but selfish reason this time, and that reason is that he wants as many kisses as he can get.

Peter blushes every time you heal him and touch him in any soft way. He is easily flustered and tries to keep out of harm's way when he can but he is also very self-sacrificial and cares about his team too much. When you tell him to be more careful he gets that goofy smirk on his face and scratches the back of his head, promising to do better next time. The only way to make sure he's safer is to stick by his side more often, which distracts him.

Steven keeps on eye on you from the moment you join the team. Not just because he's trying to protect you either, rather because you are very distracting. It's not really good for him. He's getting hit more, he's getting hurt more, but that also means that he gets more of your attention during and after a mission which isn't all that bad in his opinion. As long as you're safe he knows he will be too, so he's willing to take some extra hits.

[rose-bud-lite]

lin lie who "is he bothering you?"

he's been oogling you all damn night. you, who came with your fellow girlies to celebrate one of your friends' birthday, so pretty in your dress and heels you bought just for today.

and he's not subtle with it at all. he knows he's good. real good. your friends were the first to notice: giggling and teasing. until you met his gaze.

such pretty, shiny eyes. like he's the sweetest man alive. like he doesn't wanna eat you whole.

but he wasn't the only one.

there was another man in sight. a drunk, messy and handsy one. a rather nasty one. buying you a drink, catcalling... you ignored it, until it grew physical.

touching your arm, touching your back, touching your tight. touching. and you tried to make him back off, you really did: laughing awkwardly, moving away, ignoring his rambling.

"sweetheart," a new voice took your attention, making you look away from the awful creep that was towering over you. turns out that he saw the commotion and excused himself, making his way through the crowd of people to get to you for the first time in the night. "that guy bothering you?"

with your brief yet certain nod, lie understood. it took him five minutes and some threats covered with a light smirk, the guy ran away as quick as he came.

being certain that the creep was long gone, lie looked down at your sitting self. so pretty; fluttering your lashes at him, heart pounding as you took how just pretty this guy.

his calloused hand began grabbing yours, taking it closer to his lips before muttering,

"name's lie, pretty. lin lie." kissing your knuckles, not daring to look away for even a moment.

didn't like this one too much but i hope you guys did </3 stay safe luv yall

[rose-bud-lite]

If I Get To Meet You

(Self Aware Marvel Rivals x Reader) When eyes begin to stare back at you from your screen, playing like an idiot has seriously gotten more embarrassing…

You weren’t a particularly dedicated or skilled player, but you enjoyed playing Marvel Rivals. It was fun to play as your favourite characters, and maybe getting kills was a bit invigorating. Even if the player base was stupidly annoying, you continued to rack up hours on the game.

Until you stopped, just for a couple of months, life having gotten in the way. You had nearly forgotten about the game until seeing people online rave about the newest update. After waiting hours for the game to update to the latest patch, you were finally logged back in.

But weirdly enough, the character on your home screen was no longer your main, but…Spider-man? Despite your fondness of the character, you knew better than to play the character, considering your own ability and the reputation of his mains.

“Look who’s finally back! Had a good time out there while we’re here trying to deal with a multiversal threat? Joking! But seriously, don’t disappear like that on me again…”

Woah, they got interaction quotes! That’s actually pretty cool, you think, excited to see what other lines you’ll encounter. A small part of you wonders how you’ve never seen any clips of this new feature online.

Things seem to get stranger once you actually start playing, but maybe it’s your fault for playing ranked. After selecting Invisible Woman (“Let’s show them how it’s done…together.”), you find yourself being pressured to switch to DPS rather than have three support. Which was rather unfortunate since you totally sucked ass at roles outside of support.

Before you could lament at how annoying Captain America mains are, your screen flickers for a moment before returning back to normal, but only now you’re playing as…Johnny!? (You can almost hear Sue’s annoyed complaints.)

You’ve barely played him, your team is definitely going to lose now…

“Why don’t you let me take a spin at it? You can just sit back and look pretty, which should be more than easy for you—“

Okay, this definitely isn’t normal, but right now you’re more concerned about Torch diving the back lines solo while your supports are still in spawn.

“What are you doing!? You can’t win a 6v1!”

“Don’t mean to sound like Spidey, but O’ ye of little faith…”

After horribly losing and probably getting blocked by your team, you promptly exit out of the game, despite Johnny’s protests. You are dreaming, that’s the only reasonable explanation you can think of. Maybe you need to leave, touch some grass or something. Pulling out something more presentable, you shrug off your shirt before freezing when a smug and disturbingly familiar voice rings out.

“Woah, seem to have caught you at a, well, honestly good time…”

Figures Ironman would be a pervert, considering his go to move was humping anything that moves (“the actions of other players do not represent me, frankly that’s just character assassination.”).

After trying to sleep the oddities off and checking any game related discussion, you concluded this wasn’t some prank from the devs, which is probably the worst case scenario for you. You tried deleting the game, but the file stubbornly remained on your hard drive, the only thing you gained being Bucky’s surprisingly soulful eyes staring at you with disappointment.

Knowing you wouldn’t trash your PC despite the creepiness of the situation, you quickly accept your fate of having to live with a possessed? Lucid? Fuck ass game taking over your computer.

Honestly, it isn’t horrible. Maybe a little annoying when Johnny or Clint hijack your screen to harass you into playing, but mostly tolerable.

The support characters always remind you to hydrate or rest, already invested in your wellbeing to the point they send Jeff to stare you down.

Bruce, Peter, Reed, and Tony always pop out to guide you in any PC related issues. They mostly talk over each other and regress into an argument on who’s actually helping you, Loki stopping by only to instigate them, but you appreciate the sentiment.

Ultron might be the most disturbing, wordlessly appearing on your screen and closing all your tabs and applications when you try to switch off the game.

Loki is the most annoying, constantly opening and closing windows, deleting some of your files, and trying to jumpscare you anytime you do something work related. He even kept himself as your locked character, much to everyone’s annoyance.

If you ever find yourself feeling down, Ben, who usually tries to give you space, pops up to give you a pep talk and lend you an ear.

Clint, Bucky, Frank and Marc have all, on separate occasions, forced you to practice your aim, sometimes becoming frustrated enough to hijack your control mid match, only to tease you afterwards for needing ‘some extra help’. You tried to delete the game again.

Emma is currently blocking you from getting the game’s latest update, more than happy to prevent Jean from entering the game, with the other characters not too dismayed at that.

“It’s honestly crowded enough as is, so you don’t mind, do you, darling?”

Despite the arguments and the unwanted alarm clock/schedule notifications everyone insists on giving you, things aren’t so bad. Sure, you’re barely able to play for a minute before control is taken away, but your tier’s never been higher!

Bitch is more concerned about their win rate than the lucid characters😭

Did you guys see how the dvd bonus files for ‘The Incredibles’ are trending after 20 years? The one hero that looks like cyclops is pretty hot. Lore, man.

Masterlist

[rose-bud-lite]

picture me. sitting in my bed. listening to porn audios. whilst googling pastrami on rye. because i didnt know what it was. now im listening to porn audios. whilst craving pastrami on rye.

[rose-bud-lite]

lessons in lovemaking [masterlist]

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Tags: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, dry humping, blindfolding, handjobs, fondling, nudity, dry humping, grinding, female masterbation, soft dom vibes reader, soft sub vibes bucky, bucky is touch starved, premature ejaculation, clothed ejaculation,reader has dubious methods of coping, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, mentions of red room, very consensual, safe words, use of safe word/motion, kissing, panic attacks, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, bickering, major arguements, sparring, training, mentions of alcohol, injury, bloodr, eader is lowkey depressed, trauma. mentions of past violence, death and war, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything - will be updated with each part

main masterlist

PARTS [5/7] part one part two part three part four part five

[rose-bud-lite]

lessons in lovemaking

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, dry humping, grinding, soft dom vibes reader, soft sub vibes bucky, bucky is touch starved, premature ejaculation, reader has dubious methods of emotional control, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, mentions of red room, very consensual, safe words, kissing, panic attacks, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, mentions of past violence, death and war, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8.4k

A/N: hey guys, i'm a woman possessed. i've had so much motivation to write recently, so here is a quick one-shot. i'm sure this concept has been done before but i just couldn't stop thinking about touch starved bucky :( ! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

You never would’ve agreed to this mission had you known Barnes was going to be this squeamish. You’d seen the man slit throats without a sound, drop bodies with cold efficiency, and unload an entire chamber of bullets without so much as flinching. He hadn’t even blinked when aliens from outer-fucking-space rained hell upon Earth. But holding your hand? Letting his fingers brush your waist? Anything a devoted ‘husband’ ought to do? The super soldier looked like he’d rather swallow glass. He couldn’t even meet your gaze, for god’s sake.

What the hell had Fury been thinking?

You had to yank him away before anyone noticed the strained—Help me, I’m being held hostage by this incredibly attractive, incredibly capable woman who, might I add, is supposedly my wife—look on his face.

This gala, a weeklong jerkfest for the wealthy and villainous, was meant to be a stroll in the park. Your bread and butter, even if the Red Room had been... regrettable and against your consent, it had taught you an array of useful skills. Yet Barnes was ruining it, turning what should have been a simple infiltration into a goddamn babysitting job. The plan was airtight: pose as a glamorous Russian couple, collect incriminating evidence, and dip at the end of the week. Except Barnes wasn’t holding up his end of the deal. Instead of charming your way through the crowd, you were covering for his stiff, awkward pauses and the fact that he looked less like a besotted husband and more like a man being forced at gunpoint to stand beside you.

By some miracle, you managed to drag him away to one of the empty floors, a tucked-away space littered with stacks of unused tables and chairs. He was wound tight—shoulders squared, jaw clenched, eyes flicking across the dimly lit room like he was expecting death itself to emerge from the shadows. You didn’t bother with subtlety. Tearing the small recording device from between your tits, you fumbled with the button until the tiny red light blinked off. Whoever ended up reviewing the footage later wouldn’t need to hear the verbal onslaught you were about to unleash. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” you hissed, keeping your voice low, though the sheer force of your frustration was enough to strip paint off the walls.

Barnes clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he refused to meet your eye. It reminded you of a scolded dog, all pouty and pathetic. You might’ve found it cute under different circumstances. “You’re making this incredibly fucking difficult.”

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal—”

“Because it’s our cover, Barnes.” you snapped, incredulous. “We’re supposed to be married, not some fucking timid virgin couple. PDA makes people uncomfortable; they look away, and we have less eye on us to, I don’t know—do our fucking job?”

Barnes looked down at his clenched fists, swallowing hard. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. The dangling diamond earrings you had hanging from each lobe tinkled slightly, and you ran a hand through your perfectly styled hair, resisting the urge to throttle him.

“You’re unbelievable. Fury should’ve just sent me alone—” you muttered, but the words barely left your lips before your eyes caught movement.

A group. Heading straight for you. Purposeful.

“Fuck.”

With haste, you tucked the small recording device back into your cleavage. Barnes noticed immediately, clocking your distress. His brows knit together, hand twitched toward the hidden knife tucked into his suit jacket.

“No.” You scolded. Catching his wrist, you guided it elsewhere—your hips. He stiffened instantly, making a noise of protest, but you kept him locked in place, pressing in until your chests brushed. Too close. Not close enough.

“Play along,” you murmured. “Kiss me. Now.”

“Wha—” His breath hitched, barely enough time to form a response before you rose onto your toes and sealed your mouth over his.

Barnes froze. Stiff beneath your touch, lips rigid like you’d just planted one on a slab of granite. He still tasted like toothpaste—spearmint—and the faint trace of his aftershave clung to his skin. If you’d been trying to salvage some believability, some small thread of natural chemistry, it was impossible now. It was like kissing a statue.

An aftershave-scented stone statue.

The passing group chuckled, one of them murmuring, amused, “Ah, young love.”

Maybe it was the murmured chuckles of the passing guests, or maybe Barnes had finally remembered how to act, because his grip on your hips suddenly tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress with unexpected force. The silk pulled taut against your skin, trapping heat between you, and then—

A sound.

Low. Strangled. A rasping, utterly pathetic groan against your lips.

You barely had time to register it before something else stole your attention. In the tight press of your bodies, you felt it—hard, insistent, pressing against your pelvis.

Oh.

The realisation sent a flicker of shock through you, but you schooled your expression, keeping your face composed as you lingered just a second longer—just enough to ensure your audience was convinced. Then, finally, you pulled back.

Barnes didn’t move.

For a moment, he just stared, pupils wide and unfocused, a blissed-out haze dulling the sharp blue of his eyes. But then, like a lightning strike, awareness snapped back into him. Horror overtook his dazed expression, his breath hitching as he seemed to realise—

Did he just—?

You both looked down at the same time.

And there it was.

The medium grey of his suit pants betrayed him entirely, darkening at the crotch with an unmistakable wet patch.

You gaped, lips parting in stunned silence. No fucking way.

Barnes didn’t wait for a reaction. With the sheer force of a man fleeing for his life, he ripped himself from your grasp and marched away, stiff-backed and utterly silent, leaving you standing there, speechless.

—

It had been twenty minutes, and Barnes still hadn’t left the goddamn bathroom.

It had taken you all of thirty seconds to track him down, but the moment you found the door, it was locked. Of course it was. You twisted the handle, rattling it in frustration, then resorted to pounding your fist against the heavy wood—subtly, of course, but with enough force that he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

“Barnes.” You hissed his name through gritted teeth, pressing closer to the door. Nothing. Not a shuffle. Not a breath. Absolute fucking silence.

You exhaled sharply, trying to keep your expression neutral as a pair of guests passed by, casting you a curious glance. Yeah, you knew exactly how this looked—lipstick smudged, breath uneven, standing outside a locked men’s bathroom like a woman scorned. You must’ve looked thoroughly debauched.

Your pulse hammered in your throat. This was insane. A simple, fake kiss had made him short-circuit so hard that he fucking came in his pants? Twenty minutes ago, he looked repulsed by the mere idea of touching you, and now he was hiding away like some panicked virgin?

You let out a long, slow groan, dropping your forehead against the door.

“Barnes,” you muttered, knocking again—your patience wearing thinner by the second. “Open the damn door.”

Silence.

You straightened, glaring at the wood as if you could will it into splintering apart.

“Barnes, I have been patient.” You gritted your teeth, knocking harder. “If you don’t open this door in the next five seconds, I will break in.”

Silence.

Motherfucker.

"Alright, I’m coming in," you announced, your voice low but firm.

You cast a quick glance over your shoulder, ensuring no one was watching, before slipping a bobby pin from your hair. Years of practice made the process effortless; your fingers worked quickly, blindly, jamming the pin into the lock and feeling for the mechanism. A few precise twists, a satisfying click, and—

"Make sure you're decent, Barnes—"

The words were halfway out of your mouth when you pushed the door open, but whatever half-hearted joke you'd meant to make withered before it even reached your tongue.

Barnes was not decent.

Not in the way you’d expected.

He sat hunched on the closed toilet lid, head in his hands, his entire body drawn in tight like he was trying to fold in on himself. His knee bounced erratically, the rapid motion almost violent in its rhythm. He had ripped off his suit pants, leaving himself in nothing but his boxers, his bare thighs tense, twitching. His fingers dug into his hair, gripping at the strands like he wanted to rip them out, and when his bloodshot eyes flicked up to you—

You felt your stomach drop.

Panic. Raw, unfiltered, choking panic.

Tears welled along his lash line, his chest rising and falling in uneven, barely contained pants. He looked like a man caught in a cage, seconds from tearing himself apart just to escape it.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, and stepped in, shutting the door softly behind you before flipping the lock.

"Hey, Barnes…” Your voice was hesitant, softer than before.

He shook his head, eyes fixed firmly on the floor, his hands trembling as he dragged them down his face.

“I don’t—” His voice cracked, breaking on the words. "I don’t want you in—"

You moved before he could finish, lowering yourself to the cool bathroom tiles in front of him, as if making yourself smaller would make you any less intimidating.

"Hey," you murmured, tone careful but steady. "Look at me."

“No.” It came out sharp, like a whip, a defence mechanism honed over decades. His entire body went rigid, his breathing ragged.

“Barnes, you need to breathe.”

Your voice was steady, firm without being harsh, each syllable carefully measured as you crept forward on the cold tile floor. The dress, the dirt—none of it mattered. It wasn’t your dress, anyway. Tony Stark could foot the bill for a replacement if this one got ruined, all this fancy wear was on his dime.

“In through the nose,” you instructed, voice softer now. “Out through the mouth.”

By some miracle, Barnes listened.

He sucked in a ragged breath, chest expanding beneath his half-unbuttoned dress shirt, and then exhaled through parted lips. It was shaky, uneven, but it was something. You watched in silence, waiting. His limbs still trembled, his fingers clenching and unclenching against his thighs, but the worst of the violent, full-body tremors had eased.

“There you go,” you murmured, voice barely above a breath. “Keep breathing, just like that. You’re doing so well.”

Slowly, you inched forward, shifting across the tiles until you sat in front of his knees. His skin was warm, radiating heat even through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Barnes,” you hesitated, watching his face carefully. “Can I touch you?”

His whole body tensed.

“What?” His eyes darted up, sharp and startled, as if the very question had knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Is it okay,” you rephrased, slower this time, gentler, “if I touch you?”

Barnes hesitated. His gaze flickered away, jaw clenching like he was at war with himself. But then, after a long, tense beat, he gave a small, stiff nod.

You inhaled, steadying yourself. Then, with slow, deliberate care, you reached out and cradled his face between your hands.

The moment your fingers touched his skin, he flinched.

Not violently. Not like he was afraid of you. But enough that you felt it—felt the way his muscles coiled beneath your fingertips, the way his throat bobbed in a hard swallow. The cool metal of your fake wedding ring grazed his cheek, and his breath hitched, like he had just been burned.

“Keep breathing,” you reminded him, voice low and steady. “Nice and slow.”

Barnes obeyed, dragging in another breath, and you felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. The hard lines of his face softened just slightly as he leaned into your touch, nuzzling—actually nuzzling—against your palms.

“There you go,” you murmured, your thumb stroking in slow circles over his cheek. “Look at me.”

His eyelids flickered, resisting for a moment, but then those storm-blue eyes finally met yours. He looked exhausted. Frayed at the edges. But grounded, at least. Present.

“Tell me one thing you can smell right now.”

Barnes blinked. A hint of confusion crossed his face. “Smell?”

“Yes, smell.” You nodded, keeping your voice soft, coaxing. “Just one thing. Keep breathing and tell me.”

He hesitated but then took a deliberate inhale through his nose, his bouncing knee slowing. “I guess… whatever shitty fucking chemicals they use to clean this place.”

A quiet laugh left you, your thumb tracing a swirling pattern along his cheekbone. “Good. You’re doing good, Barnes. Now, tell me two things you can feel.”

His breathing had steadied, his inhales and exhales falling into rhythm with yours. For the first time since you’d walked in, he wasn’t shaking as badly.

“This suit jacket,” he muttered after a pause. His metal fingers twitched against the fabric at his arm. “It’s too fuckin’ tight. They always are with my arm—”

His breath stuttered, his body tensing again. Immediately, you leaned in, close enough for him to feel your warmth. “Just breathe, remember? You’re doing so well. One more thing you can feel.”

Barnes swallowed thickly. His gaze flickered down, just briefly, before settling back on your face. 

“You,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “I can feel you. Touching my face.”

“Good.” You nodded, thumb gliding over his cheek again. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yes.” He exhaled, and for the first time, it wasn’t shaky. “It feels… it feels nice.”

Something in your chest clenched at the confession, but you pushed it aside. You smiled at him, soft and small, and kept going. “Now, three things you can see.”

Barnes’ eyes scanned over your face, searching.

“You,” he said, still quiet, still certain. His gaze lingered on your mouth. “Your lipstick is smudged.”

"Two more," you breathed, keeping your voice calm and steady, resisting the urge to comment on why your lipstick was smudged in the first place. No need to remind him of that right now.

Barnes' gaze flickered across the small, dimly lit restroom. His body had almost fully relaxed now, his mind preoccupied with the task you'd given him.

"Uh…" He scanned the space, brows furrowing in concentration. "The awful wallpaper… and the sink, I guess?"

You nodded approvingly, finally withdrawing your hands as you eased back onto your knees. The cold tiles bit through the fabric of your dress, but you barely noticed.

"Well done," you murmured. "Now, how about we keep breathing and get you sorted, huh?"

At that, Barnes stiffened slightly. The panic that had been receding just moments ago flickered in his eyes again, his hands twitching where they rested on his thighs.

You reached out, grounding him with a gentle touch to his knee. Your voice softened even further. "I’m going to turn around and face the door. I need you to clean yourself up—use the sink, use the soap."

His throat bobbed. "But my—my boxers, they’ll get all wet—"

"There’s a dryer on the wall, see it?" You tilted your head toward the small, dingy dryer meant for hands. "Use it to dry them. Then get dressed, and we’ll head back to the hotel early, okay? Order some shitty takeaway, watch bad TV. Just forget about all this for tonight. How does that sound?"

Barnes blinked as if thrown by the simplicity of the offer. His mouth parted, closed, then opened again, his voice small. "Yeah. Okay."

"Good." You flashed him a reassuring smile before pressing your palms against the sink, pushing yourself to your feet with a small wobble in your heels. "I’ll be right here. Just let me know if you need anything. Keep breathing, alright? Everything’s okay."

Turning, you crossed your arms over your chest and faced the door, giving him the privacy he needed. You tried not to listen too closely. Tried not to glance at the mirror reflecting the scene behind you.

The rustle of clothing filled the quiet, then the tap sputtered to life. You leant your forehead against the cool wood of the door, closing your eyes as you focused on the steady stream of water, the faint squeak of the soap pump, and then the soft sloshing and scrubbing of fabric.

The sound of fabric wringing out echoed softly against the tiled walls, followed by the steady hum of the hand dryer sputtering to life. You kept your forehead against the door, listening as Barnes manoeuvred through the motions, drying his boxers first, then his suit pants. The wet fabric slapped lightly against the metal dryer as he held it up, shifting awkwardly as he worked.

You didn’t rush him. Didn’t make a sound. Just stayed where you were, giving him time.

Eventually, the rustling stopped. A sharp inhale, then the familiar slide of fabric as he pulled his clothes back on. The quiet click of a belt buckle being fastened. The creak of leather shoes shifting against tile.

Then—

Barnes cleared his throat.

You turned.

He stood stiffly, suit now back in place, though the fabric still carried faint traces of dampness. His jacket was slightly askew, his tie loosened just enough to be noticeable. You took a slow step toward him, scanning him up and down with a careful eye. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move—just stood there, watching you warily, as if expecting a comment.

You didn’t give him one.

Instead, you reached up, grasping the edges of his tie. He stiffened but let you work, your fingers smoothing the silk fabric, tightening it properly against his collar. His pulse thrummed beneath your fingertips as you brushed against his throat, and though he remained still, you caught the way his breath hitched slightly at the contact.

“There,” you murmured, satisfied.

You turned towards the mirror, angling yourself slightly to the side. Your reflection was a mess—lipstick smudged, hair slightly dishevelled. You sighed, wetting your thumb with your tongue before dabbing at the edges of the stain, then reached into your clutch to pull out a small tube of lipstick.

Barnes hadn’t moved.

You could feel him behind you, his body heat pressing against your back in the cramped space. His gaze was heavy, following your movements as you leaned closer to the mirror, carefully reapplying the pigment to your lips. You didn’t look at him. You just smoothed the colour in place, pressed your lips together, then capped the tube and tucked it back into your bag.

Finally, you met his eyes in the mirror.

“Ready to go?” you asked.

There was a pause. A hesitation. His jaw clenched for half a second before he gave the smallest of nods. “…Yeah.”

You turned fully, flashing him a small, knowing smile before reaching for his arm. He didn’t resist when you looped yours through his, guiding him towards the door. With an easy tug, you led him forward, your heels clicking softly against the marble floors. His arm remained tense beneath your touch, but he didn’t pull away. Didn’t let go.

You glanced at him briefly, lips twitching into a small smirk. “C’mon, sergeant. Let’s get out of here.”

Barnes exhaled through his nose, shaking his head ever so slightly. But when you reached the bottom of the stairs, he followed without question, letting you steer him towards the exit, away from the crowded room—away from prying eyes.

—

A small, muffled whine stirred you from sleep. You blinked groggily, rolling onto your side as the cool sheets tangled around your legs. The plush hotel mattress dipped beneath you as you buried your face into the pillow, willing yourself back into slumber.

A low, panting groan cut through the silence, soft at first, then growing in volume. Your brows knit together, heart thrumming uneasily. Something about the sound was… strange. It wasn’t just a groan—it was strained, needy. Erotic.

Your eyes snapped open.

The room was cloaked in darkness, save for the dim red dot of the fire alarm and the faint reflection of the turned-off TV. You remained frozen for a few beats, your ears straining to catch the noise again. It came, louder this time—a choked whimper thick with desperation.

Was someone in the room? Adrenaline slammed into your veins as you rolled off the bed in one swift motion, bare feet hitting the floor without a sound. You had heard stories of creeps breaking into hotel rooms, preying on women while they slept. Had one made the mistake of picking yours?

Another sound. Low, breathy, utterly wrecked.

Your hand darted to the bedside table, fingers curling around the hilt of a knife, its leather grip smooth beneath your palm. Not even yours, Barnes’—

Barnes.

Your breath caught as your gaze snapped towards the couch, knife slipping from your grip and landing on the carpet with a soft thud.

There, bathed in shadows, was the writhing mass of the super soldier. His blankets lay discarded on the floor as though he’d tossed them off in his sleep. The two of you had agreed to take turns—one in the bed, the other on the couch—to keep up appearances. A stupid arrangement, courtesy of Fury and Stark’s meddling.

You flicked on the bedside lamp. The warm light spilt over the room, casting soft amber hues onto Barnes’ form. His face was twisted in torment, and his lips parted around quiet, breathless whimpers. Sweat clung to his skin, catching the glow of the lamp and highlighting the sharp lines of his body. His metal arm whirred faintly as he twitched, fingers flexing against the cushions.

Your stomach dropped when your eyes drifted lower. He was shirtless, his broad chest rising and falling erratically. The thin fabric of his boxers did little to hide the evidence of his dream—more than half-hard beneath the cotton. Was he really that big?

The realisation hit like a freight train.

He was having a sex dream.

Jesus.

You swallowed, throat suddenly dry. You should’ve looked away, should’ve given him privacy. But then his hand twitched, drifting downward—

“Barnes.” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the haze like a blade.

He jolted awake, body seizing as his eyes snapped open. For a moment, he was utterly lost, chest heaving, pupils blown wide with confusion. Then his gaze landed on you—standing there in your thin nightgown, face unreadable.

His eyes flickered downward.

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath, panic flickering across his face as he yanked a pillow over his lap, shifting awkwardly as if that would somehow erase what had just happened. A string of curses left his lips, voice still wrecked with sleep.

You tilted your head, studying him. His expression wavered, part shame, part something else, something raw and vulnerable. You exhaled slowly, pressing your fingers into your temples. There was a pattern here. A man whose body wasn’t his own, whose skin felt foreign, whose touch-starved existence had left him unravelling at the seams.

What in God's name was Fury thinking sending him on a mission like this—or did Fury not know? How could he not? That one-eyed bastard had a habit of knowing everything. Hell, he probably knew the colour of your underwear before you even picked it out for the day, the all-seeing prick.

“H.Y.D.R.A really did a number on you, didn’t they?” you muttered.

Bucky flinched. The words struck deep, sinking into something fragile beneath the surface. He didn’t say a word, just recoiled, fingers gripping the pillow so tightly his knuckles turned white. A moment later, he was scrambling off the couch, making a beeline for the bathroom.

“Barnes, we’re not doing this again. Let’s just talk—”

The door slammed.

Then, the soft click of the lock.

You exhaled through your nose, arms crossing over your chest as you stared at the wooden barrier now separating you. Asshole. You knew you should’ve been more sympathetic. Should’ve handled it differently. But after a long, exhausting day, dealing with Bucky Barnes’ second puberty was not on your list of priorities.

You stepped closer, pressing a palm against the door; your voice quieter now. “I know how you’re feeling.”

Silence.

You could picture him inside, hunched over on the edge of the bathtub, fists clenched, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. “I understand what it’s like to be in a body that doesn’t feel like your own.”

A pause. No response.

“It must be hard,” you continued softly. “Not knowing who you are. Not recognising yourself anymore. And then... feeling things you don’t understand.”

Another pause. This one stretched longer.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of trying to navigate that.” The silence that followed was heavier than before. You didn’t push, didn’t say anything else. Just rested your forehead against the doorframe, waiting. 

You had spent the better part of your life under the Red Room’s control, under Dreykov’s control. Every breath you took, every move you made, had been dictated by someone else. Orders given. Orders followed. It was all you had ever known. And then, one day, it was gone. Just like that.

You remembered the moment with eerie clarity: standing in the open air, staring out at the horizon, the sunset bleeding colour into a sky that suddenly felt too vast. The question had gnawed at you, quiet but insistent. What comes next? Who comes next? Because you didn’t know. You didn’t know who you were beyond a weapon, beyond a machine engineered for death and seduction. Two decades of programming, of conditioning, of being nothing more than an asset to be wielded and discarded at will. And then, without warning, you were handed something you were told was freedom.

But what did freedom mean when you didn’t exist?

There were no real records of your birth, no true identity to reclaim. The Red Room had scrubbed that away long ago, erasing every trace of the girl you had once been. No family. No home. No belongings that weren’t issued to you by those who had owned you. And yet, you were expected to smile—to accept this newfound autonomy without question, to embrace the illusion of a life you had no blueprint for.

But how could you, when you weren’t sure if the body you inhabited was even your own?

So even if Barnes thought you were bluffing and just trying to relate for the sake of kindness, he was wrong. Because you understood.

Terrifyingly well.

The difference was that you had refused to let it consume you. You had forced those feelings into the farthest corners of your mind, locking them away where they couldn’t touch you. Because if you let yourself linger on them for too long.

“Go back to sleep.” Bucky’s voice finally broke the silence, muffled through the bathroom door.

You sucked on your teeth, exhaling sharply through your nose. “Yeah, not happening.”

“I know the others give you crap about not dating, but you don’t have to let them pressure you,” you continued, keeping your tone light. “You don’t have to force yourself into a role that makes you uncomfortable. It takes time.”

“Back in the day..." His voice was quieter this time, tinged with something that almost sounded like regret. “I used to be a real flirt.”

A humourless smirk ghosted across your lips. You could picture it, all smooth charm and effortless confidence. The kind of man who could wink at a girl across a dance floor and have her swooning in seconds. But that wasn’t the man behind this door. That man had been stripped away, piece by piece. 

“I just don’t know anymore,” he admitted, voice raw. Your chest tightened. You could almost hear him weighing his words, picking them apart, and deciding how much of himself he was willing to give away.

“When I was the Winter Soldier... they made me do things.”

A slow, twisting knot formed in your stomach.

“It’s all… fractured in my mind,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “Scattered. Broken.”

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you said, and you meant it. “I understand that. More than anyone. The Red Room… they didn’t just use us for assassinations and espionage.”

There. You had said it. Pulled a piece of yourself from the grave and placed it between you.

For the first time, the door cracked open.

Bucky stood there, dishevelled and breathless, still only in his boxers. A faint sheen of sweat clung to his skin, catching the dim hotel light, while his metal arm twitched slightly at his side. His hair was a mess—damp and curling at the ends, sticking to his forehead. His chest rose and fell unevenly, as if he hadn’t quite caught his breath, muscles taut beneath the weight of exhaustion.

“Why are you being kind to me?” he asked suddenly. His voice was rough, tinged with suspicion, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You tilted your head, studying him.

“Because you’re hurting,” you said simply. “And obviously, you haven’t fully processed any of this.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Without another word, he turned and stalked past you, out of the cramped bathroom and into the main space of the hotel room. You followed at a slower pace, arms crossed as you watched him sink onto the couch, scrubbing a hand down his face. He was hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees, his metal fingers tapping restless patterns against his flesh palm. His body had settled now, no longer betraying him with signs of arousal. That part of the moment had passed, but the turmoil in his head remained.

With a quiet sigh, you slid down to the floor, settling against the base of the bed across from him. Your legs stretched out in front of you, arms loose at your sides as you let the silence settle between you. 

“Have you spoken to Steve about this?” you asked after a moment, voice soft but firm. “Sam?”

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. “God, no.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he muttered, fingers threading through his damp hair. “It’s just... awkward. I feel like a fuckin’ schoolboy.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “I could teach you.”

His eyes snapped to you, wary. “What?”

“I could teach you,” you repeated, voice steady. “How to make love. Fuck. How to gain control over your life again. You’re just sensitive; you need a bit of exposure therapy.”

Bucky’s expression darkened, jaw clenching. “Why the hell would you do that?”

You exhaled slowly, gaze drifting to the patterned carpet beneath you. “Do you know how many men I’ve fucked and not felt a thing?” you said quietly, barely above a whisper. 

“I wasn’t just an assassin or a spy. Not like Natasha or Yelena. I was a swallow, Barnes. A honeytrap.” His expression flickered, eyes scanning your face as if searching for something, some hint of insincerity.

You swallowed, pushing forward. “It’s why Fury sent me on this mission with you. This is all I’ve ever known.”

Bucky’s breath hitched slightly, his hands curling into fists against his thighs. “Fury knows what they did to you, and he still continues to—”

“I agreed to it,” you cut in, your tone clipped, controlled. “He just wanted our sham marriage to be believable. He wasn’t asking me to fuck you, just to perform. That’s what I do. Perform.”

Bucky huffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head. 

“Look, I don’t know you,” he muttered, voice low, rough. “I don’t want your baggage, or for you to fuck me out of pity or... I don’t know, self-sabotage.”

The words hit like a slap, sharper than you expected. You recoiled—actually flinched—before you could stop yourself. It wasn’t just what he said, it was the venom in it, the way he threw it at you like a blade meant to wound. And damn it, it did.

Bucky saw it, too. The way your shoulders stiffened, the flicker of something raw crossing your face before you forced it away. His breath hitched slightly, fingers twitching at his side, but he didn’t take it back. Didn’t soften the blow. Maybe he regretted it, maybe he didn’t, but either way, the damage was done.

Your expression hardened like cooling steel, every crack that had formed between you quickly sealing shut, any semblance of vulnerability buried beneath layers of carefully placed armour. It was instinct—second nature, really. You’d spent years perfecting the art of locking yourself away, of making sure no one could reach the parts of you that still bled. You’d built it, brick by fucking brick, until you were fully encased, isolated from anything that might harm you. 

Bucky wasn’t the first to speak to you like that. Wouldn’t be the last.

You swallowed down the sting, inhaled slow and deep through your nose, and then let it out in a steady breath. When you spoke again, your voice was quiet, devoid of emotion, a perfect imitation of indifference. “It was just an offer.”

Nothing more. Nothing less.

You held his gaze for a second longer, searching for something, anything, that might suggest he regretted it. But Bucky just stared back, face unreadable, jaw tight. Then, without another word, he turned away, stretching out on the couch with his back to you.

Fine. Message received.

—

The rest of the week had been nothing short of torturous. After the argument, the air between you and Bucky had turned to ice. The two of you barely spoke. Not outside of necessity, not outside of the roles you had to play. At the gala, he did what was required—he held you close, leant into your touch when needed, murmured sweet nothings in your ear to sell the lie. But you felt the restraint in him, the hesitance in the way he brushed a thumb over your knuckles, the barely-there tremors in his fingers when he smoothed a hand over your waist. It wasn’t as if he was walking on hot coals anymore, but there was still that same, underlying hesitation.

Back at the hotel, the silence stretched long and unbearable. Shower, eat, sleep—repeat. Conversations were reduced to one-word exchanges, curt and impersonal. At least by morning, this miserable charade would be over. You’d gathered the intel you needed at the gala, and in a few hours, you’d be free of this place. Free of this suffocating, awkward tension. Free from Bucky’s constant, looming presence. 

God, the man had a staring problem.

You had noticed it before, how he always seemed lost in thought, his gaze heavy with some unreachable burden. You had assumed it was just brooding, the kind of silent, empty-headed angst that men like him fell victim to. But now you realised—he wasn’t staring through you. He was staring at you.

You saw it when you dressed for the gala, slipping into silken dresses and heels, when you pinned your hair into elegant styles, when you traced the lines of your lips with lipstick, perfecting the illusion. You’d catch his reflection in the mirror, eyes fixed on you, dark and unreadable.

Once, he had been so caught up in his daze that he nearly left without putting on his suit jacket. You had to press it into his hands, dragging him out of whatever spell he was under. He had taken it stiffly, mumbling a quiet ‘thanks’ but the heat in his face was unmistakable.

And now, as you sat cross-legged on the bed in a loose nightgown, the fabric riding high on your thighs, the same damn stare was drilling into the side of your face.

The TV flickered before you, an incoherent blur of colours and sound. You weren’t even sure it was in English. It didn’t matter. You weren’t watching it anyway. You were too focused on not focusing on Bucky, who stared at the side of your face like he intended to burn a hole through the flesh.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, running your thumb over your knee. The sheets were soft, the mattress more forgiving than the couch you’d been forced to sleep on last night. At least tonight was your turn back on the bed, though ideally, you’d be back in your own apartment by now, wrapped in high-thread-count luxury courtesy of Tony Stark’s absurd wealth.

God, you missed Egyptian cotton.

Bucky was still staring at you. You couldn’t help it, annoyance, filthy and venomous came pouring out of your mouth before you could stop it. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Bucky startled, his whole body tensing as if you had physically struck him.

“Nothing—” he stammered.

You arched a brow, unimpressed.

“No. There’s obviously something you want to say.” You shifted on the bed, your frustration mounting. “Go on, spit it out.”

He hesitated, his jaw working like he was biting down on whatever words were lodged in his throat.

You didn’t let up. “You sure had a lot to say earlier in the week. What, do you want to dig the knife in further? You might as well just call me a whore while you’re at it—”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky cut over you, his head dipping. You paused, momentarily stunned. He was doing that thing again, where he looked like a scolded dog. Adorable, but not the fucking time.“I shouldn’t have said that, it was inconsiderate of me, especially after... after all you’ve done.”

You frowned. “You don’t owe me anything, Barnes.” The words left your lips quieter this time, but still firm. 

“I snapped at you. And I shouldn’t have.” he admitted. His voice was low, restrained.

You let out a slow breath, pressing your fingers to your temple.

“It’s okay. I understand,” you said, a little softer. “I haven’t exactly been… the kindest either.”

A bitter chuckle escaped him, his fingers twitching against his knee. Then, after a long pause, he asked, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Act like everything is okay. Like it’s normal.” His voice was strained, like he wasn’t even sure if he believed in what he was asking.

You let out a short, almost nervous laugh. “I’m probably not the best person to ask about this—”

“But you get it, right?” He looked at you now, something almost desperate in his gaze. “To not know… who or what you are? Sometimes I… I just want to be normal again.”

You frown deeply, weighing his words carefully. You understood his sentiment, but you knew it was futile. There had never been anything normal about your life—not anything you could remember, at least. The Red Room had seen to that. Your earliest memories were of drills, of ballet, of suffocating discipline, and of the erasure of self. Even now, you weren’t normal; you were an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D for fucks sake, a woman barely pardoned of her crimes, existing in a liminal space. The world's governments couldn’t quite confirm you existed. You were a ghost, a fucking shadow of a person. 

“I don’t think people like us get to be normal,” you said finally, choosing your words carefully.

His expression twisted slightly, like he had already known that answer but had hoped for something different.

“But I think,” you continued, “it would serve you a world of good if you let people in. Steve… Sam. You don’t have to face this all alone—Natasha, Yelena, and I look to each other all the time to process it all and patch together the missing pieces. There’s no shame in it.”

Bucky’s face creased, his body drawing in on itself slightly. You moved before he could shrink further, slipping off the bed and kneeling before him. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured, voice steady. “Just tell me... what is it you need right now?”

His lips parted slightly, then pressed into a thin line. He fidgeted, his fingers clenching and unclenching as if struggling to force out something that had been sitting at the edge of his tongue all week.

Finally, he exhaled, jaw tight.

“I want to take you up on your offer.”

You tilted your head. “My offer?”

Bucky swallowed, eyes flickering to the floor before darting back to you. His voice was hesitant, low—like he was worried some invisible presence might have overheard. “Lessons. Lessons in… love-making. I want to be able to look at a girl without... you know. This fucking week has been torture seeing you—”

He cut himself off, warmth flooding to his cheeks. A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it—light, amused, genuine.

Bucky stiffened, eyes widening slightly, horror flashing across his face as if he thought you were mocking him.

You shook your head quickly, reaching out to place a hand on his knee.

“Of course,” you murmured, smiling. “Thought you’d never ask.”

—

“Is this okay?” you asked softly as you swung your leg over, settling onto Bucky’s lap. The mattress dipped beneath you both, the quiet creak of the hotel bed the only sound between you for a moment. He sat beneath you, legs slightly spread, his hands hovering uncertainly at his sides. You dug your knees into the bed on either side of his thighs, anchoring yourself against him.

His breath hitched, sharp and uneven. “Yes,” he murmured, though there was a noticeable tremor in his voice, like he was still convincing himself.

“Just breathe,” you encouraged, smoothing your hands over his broad shoulders. His muscles were tense beneath your fingertips, wound tight like coiled steel. He swallowed hard.

“What’s worrying you?” You asked gently. “Is there something I can do to make this more comfortable for you?”

Bucky shook his head, a shuddering breath leaving him as his hands finally found purchase on your hips. His grip was hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to hold you. “No,” he said, his voice rough. 

“This is great, I—” He cut himself off, pressing his lips together in frustration.

You tilted your head, studying him, before offering a reassuring smile. Your fingers kneaded into his shoulders in slow, soothing motions, attempting to melt away some of the tension knotted there. “Talk to me,” you coaxed.

His gaze flickered downward, shame creeping into his expression. “I just… don’t want to embarrass myself. Again.”

Your heart clenched at his vulnerability, but you refused to let him linger in self-doubt. Instead, you leant in, your lips curling in a playful smile. 

“You’re cute when you say things like that,” you teased, running your tongue over your lower lip before continuing. “Don’t worry about any of that. Just stay here, in this moment, with me.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he obeyed, focusing on the warmth of your body pressed against his. Slowly, his grip tightened on your hips, fingers kneading into the flesh more firmly this time. His thumbs traced cautious circles against the fabric of your clothing, testing. You let your hands drift from his shoulders down to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Now,” you murmured, keeping your tone soft but steady, “if you get overwhelmed, or if you need to stop, what do you say?”

“Stop,” Bucky answered without hesitation.

“Good,” you praised, smiling warmly. “And if you can’t speak? If the words won’t come?”

His fingers flexed on your hip before he squeezed in a deliberate rhythm—three distinct beats. You nodded in approval. “Perfect.”

His blue eyes flickered up to meet yours, searching. 

“What about you?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more earnest. “If you want to stop?”

You demonstrated by tapping three times against his chest, just over his heart.

“I’ll do the same thing,” you assured him. “Just like we discussed.”

For a moment, he just breathed. His lashes fluttered as he exhaled a slow, measured breath, his hands steadying against you. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, he whispered, “I’m… I’m ready. I think.”

You smiled, fingers tracing a soft, reassuring path along his jaw. 

“Okay. I thought we’d start with kissing, since you seem worried about it. Nice and simple, no pressure,” you murmured, your voice low and reassuring as your fingertips ghosted along his jawline. Bucky swallowed thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he leaned into your palm without thinking, nuzzling it like a touch-starved thing. His blue eyes, dark as the ocean in a brewing storm, flickered with something hesitant, something fragile.

“I’m sure you kissed plenty of girls back in the day,” you teased, lips curling as you brushed your thumb over the sharp edge of his cheekbone.

“Oh yeah,” he exhaled, the words dipped in self-deprecation, “until Steve became… well, the Steve he is now. None of the girls spared me a second glance after that.”

You let out a soft laugh, breathy and genuine, and felt the way his body tensed beneath you at the sensation. It was funny how a man who could tear through steel and strike terror into the hearts of the world’s deadliest enemies could turn so shy at something as simple as your laughter.

“You know…” he hesitated, voice quieter now. “You were my first kiss since… well, everything.”

Your teasing grin faltered slightly. You tilted your head, gaze flicking between his eyes and his lips, close enough now that you could feel the steady heat radiating from his skin. 

“Well,” you murmured, the ghost of a smirk curling your lips as you shifted closer, “now I’ll be your second too.”

And then you kissed him.

It was slow at first, a testing press of your lips against his, feather-light and coaxing. Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, his breath hitching as though he was bracing for impact. But when you didn’t pull away, when you lingered just a little longer, he melted into you—hesitant at first, but eager.

His hands, large and trembling slightly, hesitated at your waist before gripping your thighs as if he wasn’t sure whether to hold you or let you slip away. The warmth of his palms bled through the thin fabric of your nightgown, spreading across your skin like wildfire.

You deepened your kiss, tilting your head to slot your lips more firmly against his, and a quiet sound rumbled in his chest—halfway between a sigh and a groan. Encouraged, you shifted, rocking your hips, the new position pressing your bodies flush together.

Bucky tensed beneath you, fingers digging into your flesh instinctively as you settled against him. His own hips bucked in response, and you could already feel him growing hard against your inner thigh. He pulled back slightly, panting, his lips swollen.

“Am I doing… okay?” he asked, his voice rough.

You smiled, smoothing a hand through his dark hair, tugging him gently forward again. 

“More than okay,” you whispered against his lips before capturing them once more.

This time, he kissed you back without hesitation. His hands gripped your hips, anchoring himself to you as he parted his lips, following your lead. You swept your tongue into his mouth, slow and purposeful, teasing along his lower lip before deepening it. A groan rumbled in his chest, muffled against your mouth.

You rolled your hips, grinding against him with a slow, deliberate rhythm, savouring the way his breath hitched and stuttered beneath you. Even through the layers of clothing, you could feel him—hard, straining, likely aching for more. His fingers dug into your skin, a bruising grip that only added to the heat blooming in your core.

You pulled away from his lips, shifting your attention lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, down his neck. You could feel his pulse hammering beneath your lips, quick and erratic. He tipped his head back, surrendering himself to your touch, a quiet curse slipping from his mouth as you sucked at the sensitive skin below his ear.

“You’re doing so well,” you hummed against his skin, your voice warm and indulgent, laced with soft praise. His body trembled beneath you as he bucked his hips up to meet yours, desperate for more friction, more of you. You rewarded him with a soft, breathy moan, letting him know just how much you enjoyed this too.

“I—” He tried to form words, but they crumbled before they left his lips.

The tension in his body coiled tighter and tighter, like a bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap. His hands clutched at you, grounding himself in the sensation, like the overwhelming pleasure was building too fast for him to control. His breath came in short, needy gasps, his hips stuttering as he lost the rhythm.

“I’m gonna—” His voice broke, his head tilting forward as his entire body tensed beneath you. A strangled moan escaped him, deep and wrecked, as he came undone. His grip on your hips tightened, his thighs trembling slightly beneath yours as his climax overtook him. His body fell back against the sheets, a soft exhale leaving his lips as the last waves of pleasure wracked through him.

You perched above him, still straddling his hips. For a moment, he just lay there, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath. His eyes were half-lidded, dazed, and his lips parted as if he had more to say but couldn’t quite form the words.

“I didn’t mean to finish so early—” he started, his voice hoarse, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and lingering pleasure. Leaning over, you flipped your hair to one side as your face hovered over his. You silenced him with a lingering kiss, slow and reassuring. He groaned softly into your mouth, still sensitive but already melting into the warmth of your lips. When you pulled away, his shoulders had loosened, the rigid tension gone from his body.

“You did so well,” you murmured, brushing your fingers through his hair. “How do you feel?”

“Good.” 

You grinned, sliding off him and stretching languidly before settling back onto the bed. You exhaled, content. Bucky turned his head to look at you, still slightly frozen in place, as if unsure what to do next. His brows furrowed slightly. “What… what about you? Don’t you want to…?”

You snorted. “That doesn’t matter. This was about you, not me.”

He hesitated, clearly still unused to receiving something without feeling obligated to return it. “But I feel bad leaving you—”

“I’m fine, trust me.” You hummed, closing your eyes as you nestled into the warmth of his arm. “We have a long way to go before you need to be thinking about that.”

Bucky went quiet. You could feel his gaze lingering on you, unreadable.

For a moment, you weren’t sure if he would say anything at all. But then, after a beat of silence, you felt him shift beside you. A hesitant hand—warm and slightly calloused—ghosted over your arm before settling on your waist, drawing you in closer.

“…Thank you,” he murmured at last.

PART TWO

[rose-bud-lite]

Speechless

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Shy Fem Reader

Word Count: 1,363

Warning(s): NSFW, Profanity, Mild sexual situations, Inexperienced reader, Sexually suggestive language, Fluff

A/N: This is just really cute, suggestive banter with the reader. No actual sex just NSFW because of what the dialogue is obviously referring to.

Part 2

Summary: Bucky can’t focus on gently destroying you because you happen think he’s… pretty?

Keep reading

[rose-bud-lite]

blush- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers warnings: flustered!bucky like stupidly so about: request! Bucky was never a ‘ladies man’ in the 40’s (him and Steve made a pack to talk the other up no matter what to other guys) so when Y/n makes a move on him he gets all flustered and doesn’t know what to do… a/n: [shortie but a goodie i hope] i had to find out cucumbers are fruit for this fic and i am not okay with this information.

the effect you have on bucky drives him nearly as insane as you do, with your flirty smiles and winks he’s only half sure are meant for him. his crush on you is embarrassingly obvious—at least he thinks so, but he can’t control the blush that colors his skin whenever you blow a kiss at him after you catch him looking at you, or he turns to meet the eyes already on him.

steve stifles laughter each time bucky is left with only a wobbly little smile and longing eyes when you walk past and brush past his arm, your fingers lingering around his bicep for a few seconds too long for it to be friendly as you apologize.

bucky grumbles about how his friend isn’t—or at least wasn’t—much better than he is, but however true it may be, it falls flat when he nearly trips over his own feet when you wave at him while you run past him with an excited “hi bucky!”

you’re even gracious enough to pretend not to see when he clumsily waves back and almost crashes against a tree, although sam certainly isn’t, only somewhat quieting down when you smack at his arm.

he’s never been good at this, and he wasn’t expecting something like that to change, but he’d always trusted that he could at least be decent when it mattered.

like now. when you’re alone in the kitchen and bucky wants to ask you to go with him to the gala steve was forcing him to go to. he’d been forgoing it only because each time he saw you, there were other avengers in the room, most of which he would definitely mind seeing him getting rejected.

but then your eyes meet his and your face breaks out into the smiles that make him go a little dumb, and he realized he can’t be decent at this even when it matters.

“hey, bucky,” you greet happily, grabbing the plate of chopped fruit you’d cut for yourself and walking toward him. “d’you want some cucumber?” you offer, lifting the container.

bucky nods thoughtlessly, taking some of the cucumber and eating it. “that’s really good,” he praises, words muffled. “best cucumber i’ve ever had.”

you laugh, only urging bucky to eat more and bring that sound back. “thanks. i’m glad you like it.”

“uh huh,” he mumbles, shoving more cucumber between his lips.

“what’s that?” steve asks when he enters the kitchen, and even though bucky knows otherwise, it makes him feel better to blame it all on steve, his own silent thoughts lying when he briefly lies to himself in believing that steve interrupted just when he was going to ask you to be his date.

“chopped cucumber with lime and salt,” you reply. “want some? bucky liked it.”

steve furrows his brows, “bucky hates cucumbers. always has.” he shoots the man a look.

surprised, you turn to bucky, retracting the plate. “you do? you don’t have to eat any if you don’t want to, buck. seriously.”

“no,” bucky argues petulantly, reaching for more fruit, “i love cucumber.” he nods seriously, gesturing to steve and waving him off. “old.”

“thanks,” steve retorts, rolling his eyes and walking out as bucky continues to force more cucumber into his mouth.

you eye him suspiciously before simply nodding and taking some for yourself. “so what’re you doing in three days?”

“hmm?” bucky questions through a mouth full of the fruit he hates. “uh, the gala i think,” he replies when he forces it down, holding back a wince but still reaching for more.

you nod. “do you have a date yet?”

bucky freezes, nearly choking when a prospect of your words drifts through his mind. he shakes it away stubbornly, refusing to get his hopes up for something that was probably not going to happen. “no,” he answers finally.

you nod, dropping your eyes and biting your lip before inhaling shortly—gaining confidence—and giving him a small smile. “would you want to go with me?” you propose. “as a date?”

bucky actually chokes then, making a strange noise and then hitting a fist against his chest. your eyebrows furrow immediately and you put your plate down, getting closer to him. “oh my god, are you okay?”

bucky forces a nod and an awkward thumbs up.

“you’re choking!” you gasp, going to slap his back. he finally swallows it down and thanks you coarsely.

before you can take it back, bucky coughs out an enthusiastic yes, nodding madly.

“are you sure?” you question cautiously, “i almost killed you just now and i’m not that great of a dancer.”

bucky chuckles hoarsely, flushing at the way your fingers are still dancing along his back in soothing motions. “that’s okay. and it was my fault. i should learn how to…” he pauses, struggling to pinpoint exactly what went wrong. ”swallow correctly.”

“i get nervous around you, too,” you blurt in an effort to make him feel better.

bucky gapes. “really?”

you nod, “obviously not as bad as you.” you motion to his neck. “but you have really pretty eyes.”

bucky goes red.

“you’re also endearingly easy to make blush.”

bucky groans lowly, trying not to choke again.

[rose-bud-lite]

Louder Than Fear

Main Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, smut (p in v, oral both receiving), light angst, sex pollen, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: Missions involving Hydra often go very wrong. This is different. This is worse. This is a strange bioweapon, nobody telling you exactly what's wrong, and staring at the ceiling as Bucky roars you name. It's echoing in your brain. And you love him.

So you have to fix this.

Author's Note: Sudden rush of Bucky content is doing nothing but feeding my preexisting addiction. Enjoy the result of that!

Word Count: 8.5k

It’s not technically babysitting duty. On paper it’s called monitoring and mediating. Ensuring agents do not get off track or engage in unprofessional actives.

On paper, you were supposed to be waiting in the car. But then Sam had started whining about being put on surveillance duty like he was a five-year-old, and you’d ended up walking them through the forest so he’d have company. Then Steve had pointed out that you’d be best at actually finding the target, and you’d ended up fifty feet underground in a Hydra bunker. 

And he’d been right, you would be, but that wasn’t supposed to be your job. 

You were supposed to be waiting in the car, monitoring and mediating. 

If they’d just let you wait in the car, everything might have been fine. Bucky wouldn’t be strapped to the jet seat with his eyes squeezed tight, Steve wouldn’t be standing between you for reasons you don’t really understand, and Sam wouldn’t be on strict say one word and get stabbed orders.

You shouldn’t have gone into the bunker. 

You shouldn’t have gotten distracted in the bunker.

“I just don’t see how this is a useful conversation-“

“You don’t need to see how it’s useful, Cap, you just need to accept that when it comes to pop culture, I’m always gonna be right-“

“But you’re starting from an advantage, it’s not a level playing field-“

Sam had laughed in your ear, and the sound was a little scratchy and static. “This isn’t a war, there doesn’t need to be a level playing field-“

“Well, once Bucky and I catch up on 21st century media-“

“Bucky isn’t catching up on shit, isn’t that right buddy-“

Steve had stopped in the middle of the hallway, and you’d almost slammed right into his back, stopped only by an impossibly strong, cool arm had wrapping around your waist and pulling you back right before the collision.

You’d leaned back to see Bucky still scanning around the dark hallway as he supported your body, he’d smelled so good, and it had been an effort to focus on Sam and Steve’s conversation.

“That’s rude, Sam-“

“I’m not insulting him.” You’d been able to picture the shit-eating grin on Sam’s face. “I’m just pointing out that the last time we tried to watch a movie, Bucky got mad at the CGI-“

“It was stupid.” Bucky had muttered, frowning at the air around him “Movies didn’t need to be doing so much.”

You’d mouthed along to his words—you’ve heard them before, and you’ll likely hear them again—and when you’d caught his eye, you’d thrown him a winning smile that just made him roll his eyes.

He’d still been holding onto you, even though you’d long regained your balance.

You were almost certain you’d seen his mouth twitch slightly in the dark. 

“Then we’ll find some other movies, Buck, and-” 

Steve had turned around to raise his brows at Bucky, but ended up doing a slight double take at the sight of you. Pressed tight to Bucky’s chest, his arm around your stomach, your eyes wide on Steve’s, and Bucky continuing to monitor the incredibly empty hall.

“I- uh-“ You’d been pretty sure Steve was blushing, and he’d definitely been stumbling over his words. “I can- I’m just gonna turn around-“

“Why?” Sam’s voice had been a little too loud and eager in your ear. “What’s going on? Are they making-“

“I fell.” You’d mumbled, your voice a little frantic. “And Bucky-“

“What did he do? Did he sweep you off your feet-“

“Shut up, Wilson.” Bucky still hadn’t been paying full attention. He still hadn’t let go. “Focus on the mission-“

You could picture Sam’s shrug. “Mission is boring. How exciting, Hydra’s taking up gardening-“

You’d frowned into the air. “It’s not gardening, Sam-“

“Right, sorry,” Sam had said your name, his voice at least a little apologetic. “Didn’t mean to shit on your thing-“

“Yeah, that’s not what I’m worried about.” You’d sighed, leaning your head a little back. You’d almost been resting it on Bucky’s shoulder.

He hadn’t pushed you away.

“Did you read Stark’s mission briefing-“

“No.” Sam had cut you off, and he’d sounded appalled you’d even suggest that. “It’s mostly just Tony kissing his own ass, and you and Golden Boy down there always go cover to cover, so why should I-”

You sigh. “Because then you’d know why it’s not just gardening, dumbass-“

Sam had gasped, and it had been one of the most dramatic ones you’d even heard. “That’s not very nice-“

“Shut up.” You’d raised your brows at Steve, who had been mostly trying to not look you or Bucky directly in the eyes. “Steve, tell bird-boy why it’s not just gardening.”

He’d nodded, staring very pointedly at a spot on the wall. “It’s, uh, they tried to make a bioweapon. With plants.”

“All I’m hearing is gardening-“

“Sam Wilson.” You’d snapped, and that had shut him up. You’d used what Stark called your Mom voice—where you stopped shouting and made your tone firm—and even Bucky had tensed behind you. “Stop acting like a middle schooler, or I’ll make you write a book report about the next briefing. Got it?”

Sam had sighed in your ear, mumbled an agreement, and Steve had shot you a nervous grin before he started shuffling back down the hall.

You’d had to poke Bucky’s face to get his attention, nodding to his arm around your body to get him to release you.

Once he had, you’d just kept walking, because you never allow yourself to think about those odd but frequent moments. The ones where Bucky touches you a little longer than needed, or did something protective that he’d probably do for anyone on a mission, but still made your head feel fuzzy and your gut a little warm.

The rest of the mission had run smoothly. Sam had shut up, and Steve had gotten distracted from the whole Bucky holding you like a doll thing by a few well-timed questions about how he’s doing on his self-inflicted music catch up mission, and you’d taken every single moment Bucky interacted with you and locked them deep in your chest. 

You’d gotten good at that. You were a dragon hoarding gold, only the dragon was your dumb little heart, and the gold was Bucky’s attention.

He’d opened at door for you. He’d stayed on pace behind you like a very stoic, grumpy guard dog. He’d pulled you back by the collar of your shirt before you could walk right into a trap, and you’d ended up half off the ground, in his arms, and repeating to yourself it means nothing.

This means nothing.

To Bucky, this means nothing.

Then he’d spoken to you, and you’d almost tripped over your own rapid and electrified heartbeat.

“I read it.” He’d muttered in your ear, and you’d blinked up at him with a frown.

“What?”

He’d been looking at you. His eyes are an always little more than on yours, because whenever Bucky looks at you it’s feels like something’s branding on your spine. Sending tiny little sparking shockwaves through your body, making you stand a little taller and blink a little less, because it seems your body simply refuses to miss a single moment him.

“I read the mission report.” He’d grunted. It had sounded incredibly important for you to know. “I always do.”

“Oh. Good.”

And he’d looked really handsome. His mission suit fit him too well. His metal hand kept flexing, and it was making your breathing a little short. He’d been bullied into a haircut a few months ago, but most of it had regrown, and it framed his face so distractingly well.

And that had been the mistake.

You’d gotten really distracted. Even after you’d kept walking, Bucky’s voice just bounced and echoed around in your head, and when you’d found the bioweapon—it was just a big flower, but Sam never needed to know that—you’d been too slow to react.

The spurt of pollen had been aimed at you.

Bucky had jumped in front of you because he was a dumbass.

And now, you were here.

The moment Bucky had been sprayed in the face—you’ve strictly forbidden Sam from called it being hit with plant jizz—his whole body had tensed, his eyes had dilated, and he’d… taken off his arm. Let it clatter to the floor as his breathing became labored, and his eyes locked onto yours.

You and Steve had stared at him, you’d opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, and he’d raised his hand as if he could physically block the sound of your voice.

“Steve.” His words had been pushed through his teeth, so strained and weighted that it had ached a little in your chest. “Get her out.”

Steve had just frowned at him. “Bucky, what’s-“

“Out.” He’d hissed, and Steve—the loyal fuck—had listened. 

You’d been carried back to the jet by Sam, Steve had gone back to get Bucky, and you’d had plenty of time to try and work out what the fuck had just happened.

It was a bioweapon. All of you had known that, but you didn’t know what it did. Bucky could be in pain, he could be suffering, he could be dying. 

He certainly isn’t okay. He’d asked to be restrained, every time you speak he flinches, and he’s refused to put his arm back on. Steve keeps trying to ask him what’s wrong, and he just shakes his head and mutters something you can’t hear. Sam tried to sit down next to you and he fucking growls.

“Jesus, Bucky, did you get turned into a dog by the plant ji-“

You slam your fist into Sam’s gut, he doubles over with a groan, and Bucky won’t stop staring at you. It’s worse than the branding feeling. That’s always just from you, and it’s always unintentional. Bucky doesn’t know that you like his pretty face and his grumpy words, that you have very vulgar and inappropriate fantasies about the metal arm, or that every time you draw a chuckle or small smile out him it makes the whole world light up. 

But this is brighter than the usual attention. This is a little feral, and he doesn’t look comfortable. Usually when he looks at you his body relaxes slightly, and you take that and bury it in your collection. Right now his stare seems to be carving right into your ribs and wrapping around your skin, like he’s trying to pull you apart with just his eyes. His breathing is ragged and loud, his nostrils keep flaring, and he’s leaning forward in his restraints.

And Steve’s a big guy, but not big enough that Bucky can’t lean around him to keep watching you.

Then his eyes start to droop, and you can see sweat stains all over his suit. He’s still looking at you.

He’s flushed and pale all at once, and he lets out a high, almost whining sound of pain-

“Sam.” You whisper, afraid to look away from Bucky for even a second. “Can you please-“

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam presses his hand to Bucky’s brow, his eyes widen slightly, and you feel a little sick. 

“Shit, uh, Steve-“

Steve moves without question, and his reaction is an almost twin look of worry.

“Goddamnit.” He looks back to you, saying your name cautiously. “It’s- he’s burning.”

“FRIDAY,” you mumble, because maybe they’re both wrong. Maybe the jet is warm. “Can you please check Bucky’s temperature?”

“Sargent Barnes has a fever of one-hundred and four point six degrees. Would you like me to alert the Compound to prepare for medical response?”

You swallow, your hand curling into a fist to stop it from reaching out and touching him. He’s got firm lines on his brow and you’d like to trace them. Sooth them out.

“Send his vitals to Bruce and Tony too.”

Steve takes over for you, and you’ll have to thank him later, when your heart isn’t pounding and banging in your ribs, and Bucky doesn’t look like he’s trying to fly out of his skin. 

You don’t know why he jumped in front of you. You would’ve been fine. Whatever’s affecting him wouldn’t affect you. And he should’ve known that.

“Why does Stark call you Mother Earth?” He’d asked you once, suddenly a few feet behind you in the kitchen, and you’d blinked at him. 

He’d only just moved into the compound. His hair was still a little greasy—he hadn’t been introduced to the wonders of coconut oil and conditioner yet—and there was still a weary, haunted expression on his face almost every waking second. He didn’t talk to anyone but Steve because it was Steve, his government mandated therapist because he had to, and Sam and Peter because they didn’t know how to not talk. 

But there he was. 

Talking to you.

“Because I have plant powers.” You’d shrugged, turning back to the stove. “And Tony’s convinced he’s a comedic genius.”

Bucky had moved to lean against the counter, and he’d still been watching you. It was the first time you’d gotten that warm, bright feeling up your spine. “What do plant powers do.”

“The technical term Bruce uses is chlorokinesis.” You’d started to fish through the cabinets for a mug, keeping your voice calm and even. “I can control and manipulate botanical life. But I’m also invulnerable. To physical injury and allergies, because I’m basically half-plant myself, so I can like, regrow or whatever. I mean, plant powers is pretty fucking self-explanatory-“

You’d paused, glancing at Bucky with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry.” You’d mumbled. “That was mean.”

He’d given you an odd look, and for a second you’d thought he would leave. Push off the counter and walk away, never sparing a glance in your direction again.

But he’d just stared at you with that unreadable expression. And when he’d finally spoken, his words weren’t clipped or rough. They’d sounded almost easy. Calm.

“Do you need help?”

You’d swallowed, your hand still reaching half over your head. “What?”

“You look like you’re having trouble.” He’d nodded to your outstretched arm, frozen in the cabinet. “I can help.”

You’d nodded, he’d closed the space in one second, and his body had been warm. Almost radiating heat, setting your skin on fire when just his fingers brushed yours. He’d handed you the mug with an expression on his face that was almost a grin, you’d smiled back, and that had been it.

You’d been gone.

You’d barely even stood a chance.

Your heart had passed itself into Bucky’s hands, and he’d held it so carefully without ever knowing. He stayed near you and fed your hunger for him all the fucking time. He literally fed you, because the thing that seemed to fascinate him the most about modern times was the food—to the point that Tony put a weekly cap on his DoorDash account—and whenever he knew you were at the compound, he’d make you eat with him. 

And Sam had been right. Bucky did have an odd, amusing determination to remain entirely an old man, but it was also adorable and charming in a way Sam simply did not know how to appreciate. You’d learned that—to make Bucky consume any remotely modern media—you just had to let him show you something in trade. You’d listened to a lot of Bing Crosby and Duke Ellington just to make Bucky experience one Beyonce song.

His eyes had been so wide the entire time you’d been worried they’d pop out of his head.

You’d caught him listening to it again almost two weeks later, mumbling along to the lyrics in a way that was more sound than word.

And you’d fallen a little further. Over and over in small moments like that one, stronger and stronger as Bucky’s smile turned from a grimacing, almost mechanical movement as he relearned how his face worked, into a broad, almost goofy expression that he seemed to reserve for the people that sat with him in silence when he needed it, and smiled at him without expecting one in return.

The list was short. Limited to you and Steve, as well as Sam under very dire circumstances.

You’d never allowed yourself to read too far into that. 

But it was hard not to now. 

Because Bucky wasn’t looking at anyone but you. Whenever his eyes flutter in his sleep, or he wakes up with a low moan, his gaze locks onto your open expression of worry. He keeps groaning something that sounds like your name in his sleep.

You want to help him.

He curls away from you with almost a snarl every time you try to even get out of your seat. 

And you’re so confused.

Steve mutters your name when the jet lands, and he’s not looking away from Bucky as he speaks. “Don’t get out of your seat until we get Bucky sedated.”

You nod nervously, right up until the word sedated catches up with your brain. 

“Wait, don’t-“

“We have to.” Steve’s voice is firm. Low and unwavering. “I’ll explain later. Stay in your seat.”

He’s not asking. That’s an order.

And it only takes a few moments for you to realize why.

Bucky fights. The medic team wakes him up as they try to move him out of the jet, and he fights like an animal. This isn’t his usual, controlled and calculated movements. This is wild, with roars and noises that are almost primal ripping out of his chest. 

He doesn’t stop looking at you, or saying your name, and the noise is almost pleading. 

You have to cover your ears. If you heard any more you would’ve damned it and helped him, and you have a feeling it would’ve made everything worse. 

It takes Steve, Sam, the whole med team, and a very concerned Natasha to get him down. 

And you’re alone in the jet. Left to wander your way back to your room, your hands shaking slightly and your head spinning.

He would’ve been fine. If you’d just stayed in the car, or you’d been fucking paying attention and had moved faster—dodging the spray yourself or making sure it hit you instead of Bucky—everything would’ve been fine.

Nobody tells you what’s happening. You lay on flat the bed, stare up at the ceiling, and your brain begins to feel a little foggy.

You can still see him staring at you. The sight is almost seared onto your vision, and everything seems to be lined with blue wherever you look. He’d been in pain. This building has the most advanced medical technology in America, and these people have access to all the best doctors in the world, but as far as you know he’s still hurting. Still screaming and thrashing, still burning up and probably all alone, because this is the exact type of thing that can’t happen to him.

Fuck. This can’t happen to Bucky. If it was Steve they’d be worried, but he’d be treated with more care. No brutal slamming of his body against the jet wall, no sedative specifically tailored to make him go down. If it was Sam there wouldn’t need to be as many resources exerted to get him down. Bucky would’ve just punched him in the face with no shortage of glee in his expression, and everyone would be fine.

But Bucky’s going to have to get mental clearance. That wasn’t the Soldier, but they’ll be worried it was. You’d still seen Bucky behind his eyes—simply a panicked and desperate version of him—but no one’s going to see that but you. Even Steve will elect to be safe rather than sorry.

You’d fucked it up for him. He’d been doing so well, and you’d fucked it up with your dumb, distracting infatuation. And you don’t even know if he’s still in pain.

“FRIDAY?” Your voice is soft, barely audible even in the silence, but the AI hears you anyway.

“How can I help you, Mother Earth?”

You’re going to need to stab Tony later. Right now you have bigger worries.

“Is Bucky okay?”

“I’m sorry, agent,” FRIDAY says your last name, and her voice doesn’t sound very sorry. “I have been blocked from sharing any information about Sargent Barnes with you indefinitely.”

You sit up on the bed, glaring around the room. “I’m- what? Why would- what? Who blocked me?”

“The order was issued by Agent Romanov.” 

“Can you please unblock me?”

“Unfortunately not. Your admin privileges have been removed from my system until further notice.”

You gape at the ceiling. “Who did that?”

“Dr. Banner put in the request, and it was approved by Mr. Stark. You are also under strict orders not to leave your quarters. I have an audio recording from Mr. Stark for you that can be played upon request. Would you-“

“Play it.” You snap, then flinch at your own harsh tone. “Sorry. Please play it.”

“Hey, Mom.” Tony’s voice fills the room, the usual light apathy in his voice filled with something heavier. Almost tired. You almost forget to be mad about him calling you mom. “Before you get all pissed and turn my house into the Amazon, we didn’t want to do this. Tall, dark, and murdery keeps saying your name, and until we work out what’s wrong with him I’m not comfortable having you wander around. Sorry.”

The audio clicks off, and Tony’s getting stabbed twice now. 

“FRIDAY,” you chose your words carefully, keeping your tone even and natural. “Can you please tell me who’s near residential room sixty-seven?”

“Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark are standing the hall, Dr. Banner recently entered the room, and Agent Romanov just left the wing.”

“Can you patch me to Natasha, please?”

“I am alerting the agent of your request now.”

It takes a long, painful second, but Natasha picks up. You barely wait for the static hum of the call to fill the room before you’re talking, staring at the corner of your room where you know Tony keeps the camera.

“What’s wrong with him.”

Natasha sighs over the speaker. “I can’t tell you that,” she says your name in a worryingly gentle voice, and your hands curl back into fists. “You know I can’t.”

“I’m not-“ You swallow, holding your gaze on the camera. “Please. Just tell me what’s going on-“

“We’re going to fix it. Tony and Steve are looking at options-“

“Options for what?” Your voice is pleading. You don’t care. “Nat, I’m can’t- I’m really worried-“

“I know you are.” Her voice is still gentle. You can taste bile in your throat. “Which is why we can’t tell you. I’m-“

“Don’t say sorry.” You snap. “Just, just tell me he’s okay. Please.”

There’s a long silence. It’s an answer enough, and it sinks too deep into your skin. 

Natasha’s a good liar. 

Why can’t she just lie.

“He will be okay.” Her tone is cautious, and you can picture her frown. “We’ll make sure he’s okay.”

“Can I help?” You whisper. “With anything? Please?”

She’s silent again. You’re going to throw up.

“Nat-“

“I’ll call you back.” 

The line goes dead, and that time, she’d lied. She doesn’t call you back. Time drags on and comes to odd, stuttering halts as you sit in the silence, and when you finally clear your throat and sit up once more, it’s dark outside.

“FRIDAY, can you please give me the feed of the hallway outside residential room sixty-seven?”

The AI doesn’t bother to answer you, silently patching you through. 

You don’t think she’s really supposed to. But she seems to like that you say please.

Natasha, Steve, and Bruce are huddled outside of Bucky’s room, their voices low, but not enough for FRIDAY not to pick up the audio.

“He’s not getting any better.” Bruce mutters, his head turned down. You can see him fidgeting with his glasses, and you can picture the frown on his face. “And I am beginning to worry. There’s just- there’s nothing else I can do.”

Steve shakes his head, and the panic in his voice sounds a lot like the wired, tense little bubbles rising in your throat. “But- Bruce there’s got to be another option, we work in a miracle factory-“

“And I’m afraid I’m out of them, Cap. I’m sorry, it’s- it’s the only option.” Bruce sighs. “Hydra was very thorough.”

There’s a long moment of silence you can’t understand, the hum of the audio clashing horribly with the ringing in your ears, and then-

“He won’t take anyone else?” Natasha sounds desperate. It’s louder than an alarm echoing through the compound. “What about- Have we tried the pocket pussy?”

“He broke it.” Steve mutters, his face red, and a lot of things click into place at once. 

The heavy breathing, and tension in his body, and animalistic sounds and behaviors. The dilated eyes, and restraints, and intense gaze. 

Lustful gaze.

Oh. 

Fuck.

“And Bucky’s been very clear with us that he refuses to do… that with anyone but her.” Steve’s still talking. The room around you is a little hazy. “Tony even offered to hire someone, and he said he’d rather uh, castrate himself.”

Natasha lets out a slow breath, her words slow and careful. “She’d say yes-“

“I know she would, Nat, that’s not my worry.” Steve shakes his head, frowning at the door. “She’d say yes to help him, and he’d- It would break him. If that was it.”

“And I’m trying to get it into your skull, Rogers, that wouldn’t be it-“

“You don’t know that-“

Natasha lets out a dry laugh. “I’m pretty sure I do. You’d have to be blind not to see it-“

“I’m not blind, I just don’t want Bucky to get hurt-“

“He wouldn’t get hurt, that’s what I’m saying-“

“And when he does? We can’t kick either of them out, and he- You don’t know how serious it is for him, Nat.” Steve sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “He called it a love a first sight thing.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “That probably makes two of them.” 

And Natasha says your name. Everything slows, but not like in a movie. More like being underwater, where it’s just a little harder to see and hear, and you’re pushing against something that all around you, and it’s cool and easy but you’re drowning-

Then you breach the surface. 

And the world becomes too fast around you as Natasha just keeps talking.

“She was begging me to help, Steve. She wouldn’t regret it-“

“And Barnes is running out time.” Bruce jumps in, giving Natasha an apologetic look. “I don’t believe he’ll allow another, no matter what levels or heights his desperation reaches, especially if he’s as… infatuated as you say.”

“He is.” Steve mumbles. “It’s… Geez, Bruce, he’s like a lost puppy.”

“So let’s go get his owner.” Natasha gives Steve a pointed look, and you swallow. “She at least deserves a choice.”

You. 

You deserve the choice. 

The feed drops black, and you’re going to get a choice.

It’s barely a choice. It’s more of an instinct. Steve and Bruce shuffle into your room with nervous smiles, explain the situation—you don’t want to give away that you’d been spying, it would likely just make things more complicated—and the words are Bucky’ll only, well, he’s refusing anyone but you are barely out of Steve’s mouth before you nod. 

You say yes. And Steve stares at you, opening his mouth to say something he seems to think better of, and you hold is gaze. 

You mean it. 

And no amount of shock over the situation, no amount of stunning revelations or Tony’s worrying about you coming out, no pun intended, right side up will make you not mean it.

They give you an escape plan.

You won’t use it.

Bucky’s entirely naked when you walk into his room. Pulling a blanket over his lap before your eyes can wander further down from his darkened, painfully handsome face and broad chest. He’s sitting tall and rigid on the edge of his mattress, almost tracking your every movement as you walk through the door, jaw ticking when it closes behind you.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” He mutters. “I told Steve I’d be alright-“

“Steve told me you’re in love with me,” you blurt, and Bucky stares at you.

You hadn’t meant to just say it. You’d been planning a large build up, where he’d accuse you of pitying him and you’d say I don’t pity you, I love you, and I know you love me too.

But his first few words had been barely a rasp. He was flushed all over his body, his breathing was somehow far too deep and shallow all at once, and you can see the muscles twitching in his body. He seems to be forcing himself to barely even shift on the bed, and the mattress is creaking under the weight of his metal arm.

He put the metal arm back on.

Based on how the sheets are stained and the blanket over his lap has shifted, you have a good idea why.

Your knees are a little weak from just the sight of him. 

And it’s no longer just Bucky who needs the whole we’re both idiots, because I love you conversation out of the way quick.

“Steve fucking told you-“

“He didn’t know he was telling me.” Your voice is quick, your eyes widening slightly as you cut off Bucky’s growl. “I may have been, um, spying.”

Bucky scans you over slowly, and his mouth does the small curve that means he’s dangerously close to a real smile. “Spying doesn’t really sound like you,” he says your name, and where it would normally be a drawl it’s a growl. Your legs are going to give out. “Hydra blast you with something too?”

“I’m branching out.” You mumble, playing with the fabric of your shirt and forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “Are you? In love with me?”

Bucky’s nostrils flare, and he’s watching you like he thinks you’ll disappear. Like he’s certain you’re a trick or lie or something sent to hurt him, but he’d really like you to be real.

You’d like to be real. For Bucky, you’d like to be almost anything.

And he nods, and you’re lucky the adrenaline and fear for Bucky’s health are outweighing how your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

“How-“ You have to clear your throat, your voice weaker than you’d like. “How long?”

He suddenly won’t meet your eyes. “You gave me flowers.”

You blink at him. “Bucky, I don’t-“

“Steve was introducing me to everyone.” He mutters, bowing his head. “I don’t even know where you came from, but we turned a corner and you were just… there. Like you’d formed out of thin air or something. We startled you, and you screamed. Really loud.” You think your skin might be burning up, but Bucky’s voice has a soft sort of fondness to it that keeps you from exploding on the spot. “You were really pissed, yelling at Steve about how he should know better, and your hands were full. You handed me your flowers, and you shoved Steve. He didn’t budge, and that just made you angrier. Another flower grew out of the wall. You gave me that one too.”

“Oh.” You whisper, and Bucky just nods. “And you- when did you-“

“The moment you screamed.” He frowns at himself, shaking his head. “Not because of the scream, it was a- You weren’t afraid. You screamed but you were mostly just angry, and you gave me flowers. Helped that you were beautiful.”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I-“ You swallow. “I thought you didn’t remember that. You asked me what my powers were-“

Bucky’s flush deepens. “Just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” You swallow, titling your head at him. “And- When you jumped in front of me-“

“Instinct.” He’s glaring at the floor like it’s personally responsible for this whole situation. “Didn’t think. Saw you were going to be hit. Jumped.”

His words are starting to become more and more clipped and strained, as if your very presence is bending him to a snapping point.

“That wasn’t very smart, Barnes.”

“I know.” He mumbles, shoulder dropping like he’s trying to cave in on his own body, and you sigh.

“But I get it. And I- I just don’t want- I need you, Bucky. Don’t do that again.“

He nods, you don’t think he actually heard you, and you need him to look at you.

When you take a careful step forward, he glances up, but it’s weary. 

“You grabbed my mug.” You whisper, giving him plenty of time to stop you before you’re standing between his legs. He doesn’t, and you take his face in your hands, your smile widening as he stares at you. “It felt like I- I could’ve died, Bucky. It was… Very big.”

It’s a strange thing to say, but there’s no other way to describe the true mass and power of how fast your love for Bucky had hit you, how quick it had sunken into your bones and mixed with your blood, and how fast your entire body had been rewritten with that knowledge as code. You love Bucky. 

It’s just as natural as you need to breathe air.

He seems to understand, because he nods slowly, but it quickly turns into shakes of his head, limited between your hands.

“You don’t have to do this-“

“I don’t.” You shrug, holding his gaze. “But I’m going to. Because I love you.”

He grunts, his body almost vibrating under your touch, a visible spasm wracking his body at the words. “I- Not like this.” His words are barely audible, pushed through his teeth. “It shouldn’t be like this.”

“Bucky-“

“No. I’m not- I could hurt you. I’m not going to fucking hurt you.” 

You sigh. “You can’t hurt me-“ 

He lets out a dry laugh. “As romantic as that is, doll, I very much can hurt you-“ 

“No. You literally cannot hurt me.” You raise your brows at him, your voice flat. “I’m invulnerable.”

He blinks at you, and somehow goes redder. “Oh. Right. That- I forgot.” 

You giggle, running your fingers through his hair and he scowls.

“There are million assholes with a million powers, how the hell am I supposed to keep track-“

“I’m not laughing at you, Buck. You’re cute.” You smile at him, and all the tight annoyance vanishes from him expression in a single second. He’s staring at you again.

And no one’s ever looked at you like that. Like you’re maybe brighter and more critical than the sun, and you’re pulling them in stronger than the moon and the tides.

But he’s still shaking under your touch. And fuck, up close you feel even weaker. You can see every flex of his muscles, every bit of desire in his blown-out eyes and expression, the way he’s poking through the sheets over his lap and how there’s already a dark spot of pre-cum forming a stain-

You cough, your head already going a little hazy. “I want to help, Bucky. I really do, and you won’t hurt me, but if you really don’t want it, I’ll go-“

You’re falling forwards before you know what’s happening. And any yelps or squeaks of surprise are swallowed as Bucky slams his mouth into yours, and everything else in the world fades to humming color. 

Everything becomes second to this.

To Bucky.

He mostly tastes like salt from the sweat dripping down his body, but under that is a heavy, strong thing that might just be him. His tongue shoved down your throat and his hands gripping your hips like a lifeline, every low and feral grunt that rumbles through his chest making you moan down into his mouth.

Nothing about this is controlled or careful. It’s teeth and spit and brutal want, bubbling up and bursting over as he nips at your lower lip and you start to grind down against him, his touch starting to wander and squeeze at the skin of your back and ass and thighs, the touch of his metal hand soothing as you scratch at his shoulder, the heat of your bodies feeling strong enough to start a small fire. Bucky’s whole arm wraps around your waist, pinning you to his chest, and when your hands fist in his hair his hips jerk up, the bump of his cock against your core making you almost melt into his body. 

He’s throbbing. With the barrier of the sheets gone you can feel every inch of him wedged between your legs, and God, he’s so hard you’d think he was just a stick if you couldn’t feel every jump and twitch of his cock against your clothed thighs.

“Bucky-“ You force yourself to pull back, keep your brow pressed to his as your hips continue to roll against him. “We- Fuck, I-“

Words are a little too far away, and it doesn’t help that he won’t stop kissing you. He’s in pain and you need to fix it, but he also keeps sucking and licking over your jaw and cheeks, he’s dropping down to just bury his face in your throat, and this isn’t about you but fuck, that feels good-

You give up on words. You’ve spoken enough for now, and right now you just need to-

Bucky grunts your name as you push him off of your neck, squirming back until you’re falling to your knees before him.

“What’re you-“

You trace one hand up his thigh, trying not to spend too much time marveling at his dick. You’ve dreamed of this moment, devoted whole long and boring meetings and sleep cycles to it, and it’s still better than you’d imagined. 

He’s perfect. Not big enough that you’re worried for your health, but enough that you might need to be carried around tomorrow. And he’s thick, and firm in your hand, and when you swipe your thumb over the weeping head of him, Bucky makes a sound that settles right between your legs-

“You don’t-“ He groans as you pump him once, twice, squeezing at the base of his cock and rubbing his thigh with your free hand. “Jesus, this- you’re not playing fair, doll-“

You smile up at him, and you’ve really never seen anything better than Bucky’s wrecked and desperate expression, his hair sticking to his brow and his jaw clenched so tight you’re shocked he’s able to speak. 

“I think you’ll live,” you whisper, letting your hand drift down to cup his balls. “And I want to.” 

Something like wonder glows behind Bucky’s eyes as he hisses your name, and the sound quickly turns to the loudest, most primal sound you’ve ever heard as you take him in your mouth in one movement. 

You set a quick and even pace, bobbing up and down his cock until he’s bumping the back of your throat before pulling almost all the way off and licking a long stripe along the underside. It only takes a moment for Bucky’s hand to shoot in your hair, not guiding your movements but almost trying to keep you steady around him, his grip tightening every time you squeeze and play with his balls, his movements still painfully controlled against you. 

He needs not to hold back. You don’t want him to hold back. 

You reach back to hold his hand on your head—it’s the right one, and you make a comfortable bet that it’s on purpose—tangling your own fingers in his, and you start to move. Properly fucking your own face against him, squeezing his hand in silent encouragement whenever you almost choke on him, grinding your hips near his calf in silent encouragement.

Bucky moans you name when you swallow against the tip of his cock, and it’s a final warning.

You moan around him, and that’s it.

He starts to slam up into you, and you have to grab his knee to keep balance, tracing small circles with your thumb to let him know you’re okay.

You’re more than okay. Every sound Bucky makes is slurred and unintelligible, but you can get the idea. It’s odd combination of your name and praise, all sparking further heat in your gut as Bucky grows sloppy, his cock jumping and twitching in your throat. 

He roars your name as he cums down your throat, and you need to hear that sound again. It spurs on your desperate grinding—half against the air, your clit bumping against Bucky’s leg if you get the right movement—and you barely manage to swallow all of his release before he’s pulling you off his cock and hauling you back up like you weigh nothing.

The kiss he moves you into—your body curled back on his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist—is a little softer than before, and you think you managed to take just a slightly edge off his problem. It’s still devouring and deep and filled with so much passion you might cum just from the feeling of Bucky’s tongue tracing over your lips and teeth and throat, but it’s slower. 

“So fucking good, doll.“ His voice is a growl down your throat, and you wiggle in his hold, every bit of your own need suddenly slams into your body. “God- Don’t know how I got you, but I’m never- Wanna keep you-“

You nod, not really registering anything but Bucky saying your name and a warm feeling of good. Bucky and good, that’s burning and rolling around in your chest and stomach.

“You like that?” Bucky squeezes at your ass, and you whimper. “I’m gonna take care of you, sweet girl, make you feel just as good as I felt, seeing those gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock-“

You’re not sure how he’s capable of speech right now, but he’s talking and it’s ignite every fiber of your body, and you can only barely shake your head, pulling at his hair as you try to drag yourself together, because this isn’t about you-

The sound that leaves you when Bucky flips you over—pinning you between his body and the mattress—isn’t dignified or coherent, but you don’t really care. Not as his knee moves between your legs and your clothing gets ripped off of your skin in effective and feral movements, leaving you a puddle of need and loud moans beneath Bucky’s touch.

He’s hard again. You can feel him poking against your lower stomach as he kisses you into a dazed and high mess, and it must be painful but you still can’t really figure out how words work. How to say anything that isn’t a loud moan of Bucky. 

You try to squirm, to off him at least a little friction because this is supposed to be about him, but his metal hand traps your hips, halting your every movement as he hauls himself up.

He’s just staring at you. You’re drooling a little, your chest heaving as you try to get in a breath, and your hands are still tangled in his hair for balance.

You’re lying down, but you need balance.

Because Bucky rolls his knee against your bare pussy, and your back arches off the bed with a gasp that makes his eyes flash, his dick pulsing right on your skin-

“Please-“ The word is barely audible, but it’s all you can manage. “Bucky, I- You need to-“

He nods, diving down to a long, heavy kiss and groaning as you try to grind up into him, but then he’s gone.

Not gone.

Moving down to settle between your legs, his breath hot over your cunt and his eyes wholly black as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“Wait, Buc-“ You whine as he pulls your legs further apart, the metal hand dragging two fingers between the soaked folds of your pussy. “Shit- You don’t- This is supposed to be about you-“

“This is about me.” He grunts, his right hand trailing slowly up your inner thigh, and when you crane your neck to look at him there’s almost a fascination on his face. “Said you’d feel good.”

“I do- I am good-“ Your hips fly off the mattress as he kisses right over your clit, and the metal arm moves to pin you back against the mattress. “You don’t need-“

He latches his lips over your clit, sucking and licking as his free thumb presses right over your entrance, and you choke on the air. 

“Bucky- fuck-“

“Want to,” he growls, the sound humming and deep and right over your pussy, and you can’t gasp his name enough. “Hold on.”

Your hands blindly follow his order, one fisting in his hair as the other grips his metal arm, and you’re not sure how you don’t black out.

There’s something a little clumsy to his movements–decades without practice will do that—but that only seems to make it better. He’s not calculated and deliberate. You’re not a mission or a means to an end.

Bucky eats your pussy like he wants to. Like he’s been starved for it, and there’s nothing more he needs in the world. It’s not gentle but it’s attentive, he’s keeping you right on the edge—pulling his hand away and replacing it with his tongue, letting his nose bump you clit until he moves back to pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering cunt—and you can hear the bed start to squeak as his own hips rut against the mattress.

You try to moan his name, but you can’t think, so all that comes out is a high, needy whine. 

He understands. His metal hand moves to tangle with yours, grounding you slightly as you hang right over the edge of release, and when his finger crook on that one, sensitive spot deep inside of you, fireworks burst in over your body as you cum with a strangled scream. 

Bucky makes a deep sound against your pussy as you start to roll in his hold, and you don’t get a chance to catch your breath before he’s crashing back up to your mouth.

He moans your name against your lips, his cock pressed right against your still fluttering cunt, and you nod. 

“Now,” you manage to whisper, spreading your legs widen in a silent invitation. “Bucky, need more-“

Whatever amount of control he’d had only a few minutes ago is almost completely. Bucky flips you onto your stomach without effort, hauling your ass into the air with firm but gentle hands, and slams himself into you with one movement. You gasp as he bottoms out, and he doesn’t move.

Somehow Bucky manages to still have enough of a hold over himself to give you time to adjust, even if it’s not without effort. You can hear the low grunts leaving him as he half folds himself over your body, kissing slowly up your spine and resting his brow on your shoulder, his breathing ragged and sharp as you clench around his cock.

“Fuck-“ Bucky hisses your name, shaking his head. “Can’t do that, I’m not-“ You do it again, and he moans. A real, loud moan. “You’re- fuck-“

“Please,” you wiggle your ass against him, and his hands tense on your body. “I- I’m good-“

“Yeah, you are.” His mutter is filled with low wonder, and it just makes you squeak. “You want it, babydoll?”

You moan, nodding stupidly. “Yes-“

The word is barely out of your mouth before Bucky starts to move, and you’ve never been higher. He’s in so deep, and you’re fuller than you’ve been in your life, and drunk on how big he is, how he hits every right spot and how he keeps grunting low praise and moaning your name against your skin-

You bury your face in the sheets to try and muffle your whines of desperation and Bucky’s hand catches your jaw, turning your head to capture your lips in a long, searing kiss as he hammers into you. 

“Bucky-“

“Feel so good,” he mutters again your lips, thrusting with a brutal movement and groaning when you squeeze around his cock. “Jesus, you’re so good, doing so well, pretty girl, so fuckin’ close-“

The Brooklyn accent is coming out, and his words are starting to slur, and you only manage to moan down his throat in a silent plea of more. 

Bucky’s pace picks up into uncontrolled and frantic movements, his skin slapping against yours as his metal arm snaked around your stomach and his fingers start to rub furious, impossibly fast circles around your clit-

Your second orgasm slams into you like a tidal wave, and the only thing in the world is the dizzying and perfect pleasure washing over your body as Bucky roars your name, something warm filling you up and dripping down your thighs with your own release.

Bucky tries to move away—pulling out and pushing off of where he’s wrapped himself around your body—but you grab his arm, keeping him splayed over you.

“Need to clean you up-“

“I’ll be okay,” you mumble, a dazed smile covering your lips as you reach back, trailing your finger through his hair. “Stay.”

He pauses, but only for a second. Then his weight is settles back over your body, and everything is alright. 

Bucky’s alright. His cock in still twitching and jumping near your ass, and you think it’ll take a while to fully fuck the bioweapon out of his system, but you’re more than up to the task. For now you can just drown in his warmth, half petting his hair and humming as his lips trail over your shoulder in featherlight kisses.

“Did you mean it?” 

You twist your head, a small frown on your face. “Mean-“

“The-“ He sighs, staring at you like he’s trying to pry something inside of you out. “The thing.”

“That I love you?”

Bucky’s throat bobs, and he nods. 

“Of course I did.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth that takes only second to turn into Bucky rolling your onto your back, his tongue pressing on your lower lip in a silent request-

You push on his chest slightly, holding his gaze as he pulls back with a frown.

“Did you mean it?”

He looks almost offended. “Yeah, I meant it. I’ve never meant anything more-“

You tug him back down, and that can be the end of it for now. It could be the end of it forever, and you’d be happy.

You don’t need a long explanation about it. You don’t need justifications for why neither of you ever said anything, or to repeat it until you both believe it.

You already believe it. And telling Bucky won’t do anything, so you’ll just have to spend a long, long time showing him.

And as long as you have that time, with Bucky, you’ll be happy.

End Note: Love making Steve talk about pocket pussies. That's an America I want to be a part of <3

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[rose-bud-lite]

thinking about Bucky and his dog tags in bed

i once saw a post somewhere about fucking a man with dog tags and they accidentally hit your face and you can’t help but laugh so he takes them in his teeth and fucks you harder… that’s all I think about now when I hear phrases “Bucky” and “dog tags”…

He’s deep inside you — hips grinding slow, strong arms braced on either side of your head, eyes locked on yours like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. The weight of his dog tags swings with every thrust, clinking gently against your chest, your collarbone… your chin.

Then, one good thrust, and they bounce up — smack — right against your lips.

You let out a surprised giggle, biting down on the sound, but it’s too late. Bucky hears it. His rhythm stutters. He pauses, cock twitching inside you.

“What’s so funny, doll?” he murmurs, already smirking.

“N-nothing,” you pant, breathless and wide-eyed.

But the tags swing again — click, clack, a little more chaotic now — and you giggle again, covering your mouth.

Bucky chuckles once, low and dangerous. Then, without a word, he dips his head, catches the chain between his teeth, and bites down.

The sound of the metal muffled in his mouth is sinful. His eyes stay locked on yours. And then he fucks you — hard. Deep. Relentless.

Your laughter is gone, swallowed by gasps and the slap of skin. His dog tags no longer hit your face — they bounce wildly against his lips as he holds them in his mouth like a threat.

“Still funny?” he growls through clenched teeth, mouth full of metal, sweat dripping from his temple.

You can only whimper.

He doesn’t let up. Just keeps driving into you with brutal precision, eyes burning, chain still clenched in his teeth like you’re something he refuses to let go of.

“Didn’t think so.”