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a11eya · 1 month

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TITLE: do you still think about me?

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut

STATUS: Completed; 2 of 3

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

Okay, so you’re a liar.

You’re still—really attracted to Bakugou. You don’t think you ever stopped being attracted to him.

You’d told Rie a half truth; yes, at first, what’d drawn you to him was his face.

Even in your generation’s set of heroes—the likes of which include the so-beautiful-he’s-almost-unreal legacy hero, Pro Hero Shouto, and All Might’s successor, sweet, freckled, boy-next-door Pro Hero Deku—Bakugou stands out. Something about him makes you want to look at him.

When you were teenagers, he had the rough, unfinished kind of good looks he’d at best disregarded and at worst willfully skewed, often marring them with bared teeth, deep scowls, and constant yelling.

As an adult, he’s devastating.

Those good looks matured into a deeply attractive masculinity, a captivating mix of confidence and competence, his personality’s extremes tempered. His shoulders broadened; he’d shot up in height. The scars he’d collected during the war gave him a dangerous, alluring edge.

(Or so the web magazines and tabloids say. When you look at his scars, you remember that time of fear and uncertainty; you remember the relief you felt when it was over, the catch in your chest when you saw Sero’s, Mina’s, Kaminari’s faces. Bakugou’s face. Battered, hurt, but okay.)

You didn’t tell Rie that what you find even more attractive about Bakugou is what you’ve learned of him, from how the people who care about him talk about him. From what you’ve seen of him when you do cross paths.

A year or two ago, Deku nearly collapsed from overwork consulting on a difficult, international case while maintaining his regular workload. The only reason you know as much as you do about it (not much) is because their class is still so close, even after all these years, and it’d come up briefly during a get-together.

“Midoriya only listens to Bakugou,” Sero’d said over drinks one night, shaking his head. “That guy’s hard headed. But he’ll be okay. Bakugou’s got it.”

Bakugou knocked some sense into Deku, apparently, and had supported him to the end of that case.

You hear that another of their classmates, Jirou, has a pretty popular band. You were shocked to see a video circulating a couple months ago featuring Bakugou on the drums. He’d worn all black, a shirt with the sleeves cut off, and someone on Chirper had zoomed in on his face and confirmed he’d been wearing eyeliner.

Mina’d told you that Jirou’s drummer had broken his wrist right before a performance. Bakugou had subbed in. You didn’t save the eyeliner picture, but sometimes you think about how his eyes looked in it and shiver.

The last time you saw Bakugou was at that dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina. Kirishima’d gotten a little drunk, celebrating a completed case. As you all went your separate ways that night, you couldn’t help but notice the gruff way Bakugou’d lent Kirishima a shoulder, nagging him, but still supporting his weight as he hailed a cab and helped his friend home.

You like that he’s dependable. You like that he cares so much about his friends, despite appearing to the rest of the world as unapproachable and irritable, a bomb waiting to go off.

You’ve learned all these things about him secondhand; you know—you know that there’s a huge difference between that and knowing him yourself, directly. If you could have a do-over with him, you’d have played it cool, in high school. Maybe then you could’ve at least been friends, instead of friends of friends.

You don’t think that’s in the cards for you. And that’s okay. You’ve made your peace with it.

Yawning, you cover your mouth, then rub at your eyes, trying to wake up. It’s early enough that you’re really regretting trying to stick to your routine by going for a run, even while on vacation.

You’re already dressed, out here and ready, you tell yourself. Just go. You think of how good the massage you’ve got scheduled later today will feel after some exercise.

The hills surrounding the ryokan are green with the beginnings of spring, and here outside the city, closer to the mountains, the heat and the humidity have yet to reach their seasonal peaks. The air’s clear, and you inhale deeply.

You’d have to thank the staff member who’d suggested this forest trail to you. It’s conveniently close to the ryokan while still being far enough apart that you have yet to bump into any early bird tourists. And the scenery’s a perfect companion on your run.

With this thought to motivate you, you set to stretching.

You’re bent down, reaching to touch your toes, when the barest sound of footsteps comes from behind you.

You jump, swinging around.

Bakugou stands there in shorts and a form-fitting shirt, hands stuffed into his pockets. Your eyes snag on his shoulders, his biceps.

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You’re jumpy as fuck,” he tells you, and you make a face.

“Wear a bell,” you retort. Your heart’s still beating a little fast.

He snorts, then begins his own stretches.

You watch him for a few moments before your brain turns on.

“You’re not… going running with me, are you?” you ask. Wait. Maybe he’s just going running at the same time as you. Not necessarily with you.

“Why, can’t keep up?” Bakugou asks, a hint of a smirk on his face. He maintains eye contact for a beat longer, long enough for your stupid brain to remember how attractive he is, for your heart to pick up the pace without your permission. With how much work your heart’s put in within just five minutes, maybe you don’t even need to work out this morning.

He straightens up, and without another word, he takes off.

You stand there for a moment, stupefied. Then, scowling, you run after him.

“You’ve got stamina,” Bakugou says, leaning against the table.

“...Thanks,” you say, the word coming out as more of a question than a statement, and he grunts but doesn’t say anything more. Shifting your weight, you sip your water, wondering how you got here.

You’d caught up with Bakugou pretty fast—you suspect he wasn’t going full speed. For a while, you’d stressed. Were you going too slow? Too fast? Did he really expect you to keep up with him, when fitness is a big part of his job as a pro hero, while you’re a normal office worker?

But minutes and distance passed, and thoughts faded into the background. Your exertion overrode your worries. You let yourself fall into the feeling of your feet striking dirt, the rhythmic inhale and exhale of air.

All the while, Bakugou kept pace with you. When you’d decided you were done after a couple loops of the trail, he’d accompanied you back to the ryokan, lingering with you here at the lobby’s refreshments area.

You’re really not sure what’s happening. It’s hard to believe that your leisurely run was up to his usual standards. You wonder if he’s bored, craving company, since he’d come out here alone and you’re conveniently around to sate that boredom.

“So do you usually run outdoors, or do you use your agency’s gym?” you ask, wrapping your hands around your water cup.

“Gym,” Bakugou says. His face grows pinched, annoyed. “Too many randos try to talk to me if I go running outdoors.”

“Oh, right. Pro Hero Dynamight.” You frown. “That sucks. But your agency’s gym’s pretty nice, I hear. Hanta’s said he wishes ours was as good.”

“It’s decent,” he says. His eyes move to your hands, fidgeting with your cup. Self-conscious, you stop.

Abruptly, he says, “Heard you got promoted recently. Congrats.”

“Oh!” Tilting your head slightly, you say, “Thanks, Bakugou. Though honestly, it feels like I just get more work dumped on me with the added responsibility of having to fix people’s problems when work drama happens. The pay bump’s nice, though.”

“You’ve always been good at your shit,” Bakugou says. “Don’t downplay it.”

You blink. Ridiculously, you feel your face begin to warm up.

“Thanks,” you say again, a little softer. You smile up at him.

He looks at you, and—it feels like he’s so close. Was he always standing this close?

Your phone chimes from within your pocket. You fish it out, eyes dropping to your phone screen as you avoid Bakugou’s eyes, feeling shy and off balance. Which is dumb, because it was just a compliment, jeez. Get it together. He’s just being nice.

It’s Rie, wondering where you are and asking you to get back to your room. Checking the time, you wince. You’d been out later than you intended.

“Hey, I gotta run,” you tell Bakugou. Glancing around, you look for somewhere to get rid of your cup.

“I got it,” Bakugou says, taking it from you. Your hands brush against each other, and you’re so annoyed at yourself for being so aware of him that juvenile gestures like this get your heart rate up.

“Thanks,” you say. “And thanks for the company! It was fun. Maybe I’ll see you around, but if I don’t, enjoy the rest of your vacation!”

You don’t wait for a reply, hurrying out of the lobby towards your room.

Rie’s packing when you use your key to let yourself into the room.

For a moment, you stare at her as she moves what few things she’d unpacked back into her luggage. You just want to be sure that she’s packing her things rather than unpacking them, as you’d finished doing just yesterday.

“Hello? What’re you doing?” you say. “Our reservation’s for the entire weekend, so why are you packing?”

Rie groans loudly. “Don’t remind me. I’m so mad. Stop standing there and come sit so I can explain.”

Bewildered, you toe off your shoes and sit on one of the lounge chairs, unwilling to sit on either of your beds in workout clothes.

Rie perches on the table in front of you and looks at you. “So don’t be mad. But I have to go because I got an emergency call from a client who has an event this evening. She’s paying me triple, and she’s going to reimburse me for my reservation here.”

Your jaw drops. “Triple? Must be a rich client.”

Rie laughs. “Very. Her wallet won’t even notice. And now I can use her reimbursement to book a future reservation with Hanta.”

“I mean, that’s great for you, but… Should I come back with you? So you’re not traveling back alone?”

Rie looks at you like you’ve said something ridiculous. “What? No. Stay here. Enjoy the rest of the weekend. It’s like… doubly free for you now, so there’s no way you can waste it.”

You frown. She’s right; it would be a waste to go. But it’s a little… lonely, thinking about the plans you’d made together and knowing you’d be doing them by yourself, now.

Ever perceptive, Rie reaches over and jostles your leg. “Hey. I really am sorry for leaving you for work. If you want, I can tell her I’m not available. I know we came all the way out here together, and you did it as a favor. She’s a regular client. She won’t drop me if I cancel on her once.”

You’re already shaking your head. “No way. The deal’s too good. If you do something dumb like that, I’ll kill you.”

Snorting, Rie leans back. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you say firmly. You smile. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

You see Rie off as she climbs into a shuttle provided by the ryokan. It’ll take her to the train station, and she should arrive back in the city by mid-afternoon.

You text Sero in case he doesn’t know Rie’s headed back. Maybe he could pick her up at the station. You’ve yet to receive a reply from him, but you know he’s probably busy with patrol right now.

After showering the sweat of your workout off, you sprawl across your bed and stare at the ceiling.

Originally, your plans had been to check out the town’s morning market, shop around a bit, then have lunch. After that, a visit to a temple nearby was on the agenda. The day would end with your scheduled massage and a dip in the onsen.

Now, the thought of such an activities-filled day tires you.

You close your eyes. Maybe you can just. Skip everything except for the massage today.

Your phone pings. Eyes still closed, you pat around next to you for it and then check the message you’d received.

Rie: If I find out you just stayed in the room for the next two days… 🔪🔪🔪

If you didn’t already know her quirk, you would’ve thought she’s telepathic.

Sighing, you force yourself up and off the bed and get dressed.

The market’s busy, with tourists and locals alike mingling through the crowded main street. Shops line either side of the street, some selling local handicrafts and souvenirs, others selling food and desserts.

The overlapping sounds create a pleasant background hum, and you happily peer into stores, hunting for things to bring back.

You find a bath and skincare set for Rie, who constantly complains about her dry skin but never does anything about it. A coin purse for Mina, who always carries her coins loose in her pockets, clinking around. Some local confections for Kaminari and Sato. Hanta gets a bag full of local fruits; he’s always been a little bit of a health nut.

Just as you’re about to enter a bakery, windows lined with delicious looking breads and desserts, you spot a familiar blond head of hair just outside.

“Bakugou?” you call out, and he turns.

Like you, he’s changed from workout clothes to casual clothes. Jeans, a shirt. He’s holding a coffee with the bakery’s branding.

“Is that any good?” you ask, pointing at his drink.

He shrugs. “S’okay.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a smile. “I’m starting to think that just okay to you is what regular people think is great.”

He gives you a look, and you grin.

Stepping back, you wave a little. “I’m gonna go inside and check things out. It was nice seeing you.”

Instead of continuing on his way, Bakugou follows you inside. Surprised that he’s stuck around, you glance back at him.

“What’re you gonna get?” he asks you.

In this little bakery, you can’t help but notice how tall he is. Especially with him right behind you, waiting for you to answer.

“I haven’t had breakfast yet, so… This bread looks pretty good.” You point at it. It’s savory looking, with cheese and some type of meat on it. “And I saw someone come out with this strawberry cream croissant! It’s the real reason I’m in here.”

You don’t hear what he says in response, as you’re next in line and quickly order. When you go to pay, you find yourself nudged aside as Bakugou takes care of it before you can protest.

“Bakugou, what?”

“Didn’t anybody teach you to just say thank you?” Bakugou says, herding you to the side with a hand on your back so that the person behind you can order. His touch is so warm; you wonder if it’s because of his quirk, if it works that way.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, then frown. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Go get your bread,” he just says.

You do, feeling off-kilter again. It’s what you’ve been feeling every single time you’ve seen Bakugou this weekend. You’ve gone from seeing him maybe two or three times a year since you graduated to two or three times a month this last year. And now, within the span of twenty-four hours, you’ve seen him three times.

And it hasn’t been purposeful, at least on your end. So has it been purposeful… on Bakugou’s end?

“What’re you thinking,” Bakugou says as the two of you rejoin the crowds of people walking the main street. You don’t have a particular destination in mind, and if Bakugou does, he doesn’t say anything.

You consider being straightforward and asking him what the deal is. He’s never shown any interest in interacting with you before.

But—no, it’s a little too embarrassing. It could really just be coincidence. The ryokan is big, but not that big. It’d be easy to bump into the same person there. And there’re a bunch of touristy things to do in the area, but only to an extent. He could just be interested in doing the same things you’re interested in checking out.

Asking him if he’s been bumping into you on purpose… no way.

“There’s a famous dango place nearby,” you end up saying, then take a quick bite of the strawberry croissant. You nearly moan. It’s so good. The strawberries are fresh, and the croissant is flaky and light. The cream isn’t too sweet. It’s perfect.

Swallowing hastily, you continue, “They have seasonal flavors, but their mitarashi is really good too, I hear.”

“Fucking messy,” Bakugou says. You make a questioning sound, turning your head to look at him. He looks at you for a long moment, then snorts. He grabs your arm to halt you, tugs you out of the way of people walking.

Taking a napkin from his pocket, he tilts your chin up and wipes your mouth. You can only stand there, eyes wide.

“You had a lotta something there,” he says. His eyes tell you he’s laughing at you. Looking around, he finds a trash can to toss the napkin and his empty coffee cup.

“Have you been hit by a quirk?” you demand once he’s back by your side.

“What?” he asks. His brow furrows. He scowls.

“Nevermind,” you say quickly. “Anyway, I’m going to grab some dango.”

With narrowed eyes, you point at him. “And you can only come if you promise not to pay for anything, okay?”

He lifts a brow at you, and you take that as a yes. The two of you resume walking.

“Where’s Rie?” Bakugou asks suddenly, and you tilt your head at him.

“I’m surprised you know her name, with how much you call her Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend,” you say, smiling. It fades a little as you continue, “She had to leave because of work. So I’m vacationing solo for the rest of the weekend.”

Bakugou’s expression is unreadable. You’re not sure what to make of it.

“It’s cool. Since I’m on my own, I get to decide where I’m going,” you say. “Instead of checking out the temple, I want to do a hike at the national park nearby. Supposedly, the views are amazing.”

“Y’gonna do that today?” Bakugou asks.

You shake your head. “No, I figure I’ll take it easy today. Enjoy the onsen. I’ll do the hike tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s silent for a moment, and then, “You shouldn’t hike an unfamiliar trail alone. If you want someone to do that shit with, take me.”

You blink, startled. “Oh, I… I don’t want to impose. Don’t you have stuff you want to do here, too? I don’t wanna ruin your plans.”

He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Not really.”

Stranger and stranger. Who comes to a vacation destination without anything to do in mind?

If you were smart, you’d tell him thanks but no thanks. That you could handle it by yourself.

Because spending all this time with Bakugou is making you delusional. You’re starting to read into his little touches, the things he’s saying, when he’s just being nice to his friend’s friend. His friend’s friend who got ditched on vacation.

But you like him too much to say no.

“Okay,” you tell him. “If you’re really cool with it, I wouldn’t mind the company. We should exchange numbers to make planning where to meet and at what time easier.”

Bakugou grunts, pulling out his phone. He takes a moment to tap at his phone, then offers it to you. You do the same.

As you resume walking, your hand brushes against his. The part of you that’s foolish, romantic, pretends that this moment is something more.

Notes: Hello again, darlings! Thank you so much for all the love you gave part one of this fic. 🥺 You guys are the best fr. 💖

As you can tell from this part's ending... I, like reader, am a liar lmao. A week ago, I thought this fic would end in just two parts, but I kept writing, and writing, and I realized I need at least another chapter, maybe two, to fully flesh out what I have planned. I hope you can forgive me. 🙏

Some notes for this chapter... Rie's a celebrity makeup and hair artist! The morning market is based off of shopping you can do in Arashiyama. I have had strawberry cream croissants from a Japanese-French bakery where I live, and they are delicious. Dango are little balls of rice flour that're on skewers. A popular flavor is mitarashi, or a sweet soy sauce flavor.

Anyway, I'll see you next weekend with another update! Hugs and kisses! ✨💞

Tag List: @blairbellerose @yeehawgiddyup13 @reads-stuff-quietly @surprisemodafakas @scarlett-witchh @queenpiranhadon @sleepyyhabii @j-pendragonx @bakunianadecorazon @dreamingoftomorrow @nonamebbsblog @gina239 @seabass17 @dynakats @I-bozo-I @humblechumbble @universal-s1ut @sweetblueworm @kukikoooo @liluvtojineteyam

#chapter two!!!#i feel like this chapter is just. bkg bkg bkg and reader is like !!!#but tbh that's just a glimpse into my brain #read this fic and think about how pretty bkg looked in the bnha season 7 thing #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #fic: dystam?#jess scribbles

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aphroditelovesu · 5 months

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Yan!Parents Daemon/Rhaenyra Targaryen Headcanons (Platonic)

❝ 🐉 — lady l: Are these headcanons good? I don't know, but I hope you like it!! Forgive me for any mistakes ;) 🩵🤍

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, mention of death and murder, unhealthy platonic relationships and messy writing.

❝🐉pairing: platonic yandere!daemyra x gender neutral!reader.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were looking forward to the arrival of their first child. Daemon already had two daughters and Rhaenyra her three precious boys, but they were very eager for the first fruit of their marriage to be born.

The day Rhaenyra gave birth to you was one of the happiest memories of her life. The pain of childbirth was excruciating, but when she could hold you in her arms, it was all worth it.

Daemon actually sobbed when he held you for the first time. You were so small, so innocent and so perfect. He swore to himself that he would do anything to be good to you. You would be loved and adored forever.

They are both extremely overprotective and possessive over you. You are their child, you belong to them, so you should not associate with anyone they do not approve of.

Any friends you may have will be investigated by Daemon and if he finds anything that displeases him, that friend will disappear from your life. He is not objective, if that person's great-grandfather was an bastard, for example, that means they will never be good to you. And you deserve only the best.

Rhaenyra not only agrees with this, but encourages her uncle-husband's actions. You are her baby, the most precious person in her life and she only wants the best for you. She will give you the best, she knows what is good for you. After all, mom always knows best, right?

Your older siblings would also have developed their own obsession with you, encouraged by their parents. It didn't take long for the Velaryon brothers and Daemon's daughters to become completely attached to you.

You were not only your parents' obsession, but also your siblings, meaning you can bet no harm would be done to you. You were spoiled and protected, the apple of everyone's eye in Dragonstone.

Whatever you want, you will have. Rhaenyra and Daemon are completely soft when it comes to disciplining you, just one puppy look and they will forget everything. You are their child, you could do no wrong in their eyes.

Everyone is instructed to spoil and protect you, the servants, the guards and your brothers will do so willingly too.

Daemon is very possessive, he feels entitled to you because you are his child. He will kill anyone who looks, says, or even breathes wrong at you. There's no way he's going to let anything happen to you.

Rhaenyra is more controlled, but she is still a dragon and you should never mess with a dragon's offspring. She loses all her senses, her reason when something happens to you. Even if it's a paper cut, she will go into a frenzy of rage.

Any love interests or suitors will also be dealt with quickly. They won't allow you to get married, no one will ever be good enough for you.

If something were to happen to you, gods be good, for the true fury of the Targaryens would be revealed. They will burn, kill and destroy everything in their path for you. All that matters is you, the war will be forgotten by you.

And when it was just ashes and the smell of blood and death was in the air, they would be satisfied. Daemon and Rhaenyra will go to extremes for you. You are their baby and no one, absolutely no one, can change that.

Daemon and Rhaenyra will not lose anyone else, not their child. And when the war for the Iron Throne begins, you would be locked in and protected the entire time. Your parents love you and would do anything, but they don't know boundaries or privacy. It doesn't matter, after all, they are your parents.

#hotd #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #asoiaf #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #yandere asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yan!mom Rhaenyra targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #yan!dad daemon targaryen #headcanons #yandere headcanons #x reader #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #yandere daemyra #yan!parents daemyra

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berzahoes · 6 months

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“slut!” | tom blyth

summary: in a word full of boys, tom is a gentleman.

an: takes place before filming billy the kid

warnings: mean names hence the title also if you care, reader is the same age as tom lol

“so keep your boyfriends hidden because y/n is newly single!”

“how many boyfriends has she had in the last four years?”

“clearly she’s the problem if she can’t keep a boyfriend.”

you heard it all. the names people called you, the headlines, news reports. it was always the same. people would rather shame you for your love life than be quiet. in the past you did joke that you went on many dates, clearly the media didn’t care if you were joking or not.

your manager had even banned you from looking at the really negative comments on your phone. twitter was having a field day with your love life.

“slut!” was the phrase often directed towards you. while your loyal fans defend you, you could still see all the hurtful things people said about you.

“do you want to cancel tomorrow’s interview?” lisa, your manager, asked one day. you hadn’t answered your phone at all and she was concerned so she drove to your new york apartment and let herself in with the spare key she had. she had found you in the darkness of your room curled up with your plethora of blankets.

“cancel everything. i just want to rest for a while.” you managed to say. lisa was like your second mom. she cared about you more than anything.

“we can do that.” lisa assured.

“lisa?” you turned to face her.

“yes?”

“thanks for checking on me.”

“always.”

after that conversation, lisa made some calls and any movie or tv show deal you had were quickly cancelled. over the next few days, the media found out that you pulled out of many movies from big franchises like marvel and star wars. it was always a dream of yours to be in anything marvel or star wars related, but for now, those projects had to continue without you.

many friends and colleagues reached out to you, but all you could do was send a simple ‘thank you’ and be done with it.

days passed and you were still in your apartment. you didn’t mind being alone, you liked it better that way. sometimes lisa or your parents would drop by or even your upstairs neighbor, mrs. davis, a nice old lady who knew that your favorite cupcakes were red velvet so she made you some to cheer you up.

it was a tuesday afternoon when you heard someone cursing multiple out in the hallway. you figured someone got locked out so you ignored it. pretty much everyone in the entire building got locked out at least once. you were ignoring the cursing as you continued reading your book and ate your red velvet cupcake that your kind neighbor had made you. a few seconds later, you heard a knock on your door.

“no.” you groaned as you stood up to answer the door. you opened it to find tom. you had only known him because you had a mutual friend so you were surprised to see him at your door.

“hi,” he spoke. “i called and texted . . a lot. i just wanted to see how you were.”

“i’m alive as you can see.” you said.

“i know you’ve been asked this question a lot lately but are you okay?”

that’s when you broke down. you couldn’t keep it together in front of tom, but he didn’t mind comforting you. somehow he knew exactly what you needed to hear.

he would often come over to keep you company when lisa or your parents couldn’t. he understood you didn’t want to step foot outside so he didn’t force you. instead, you two would go up to the terrace of your apartment building and hang out. tom would bring lunch or dinner depending on the time that he decided to visit. during that time, you two would talk about whatever would come to mind. tom did his best to avoid talking about work, but you always asked how his filming was going or if he had auditioned for anything new.

“i got the part,” he admitted. “i’m playing billy the kid.” he smiled brightly.

“I’m so happy for you, tom! you deserve it!” you hugged him.

“it’ll be announced next week. you’re the first to know, well apart from my manager.” he chuckled.

“you deserve that and more.” you smiled.

“you do too. other people should see that,” tom said. “you’re so talented and amazing and everything about you is so. . . incredible. i wish people see you the way i do.”

you were speechless.

“are you okay?” tom asked when he noticed you were quiet.

fuck. fuck. fuck FUCK he thought to himself

“you mean it?” you managed to say. you could feel yourself start to blush.

“every bit and more. i enjoy being with you and if i could be with you for the rest of my life then i would die a happy man.”

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #actress!reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth one shot

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moghedien · 2 months

Text

but imagine Lae’zel’s panic after the act 1 romance scene when it didn’t work

because there wasn’t supposed to be a romance between you and her. She made it very clear that this was a one night stand and once you agreed, she was going to take from you what was hers and be done. She found you unusually attractive and was going to sate her lust and curiosity and be done.

She starts the scene by tellling you that githyanki know their bodies inside and out. And she definitely knows what she wants from you sexually and makes you give it to her, to the point of using you like a brand new hitachi until you’re exhausted and in pain the next day. Like she absolutely had sex like she was trying to get everything outta you in one go, and once it is the next day, she’s done. She won’t humor the idea of continuing. She won’t humor the idea of even staying around and just sleeping together. She got what she needed and now you can both be done

Only it doesn’t work.

She accuses you of being the one to stare at her and continue to desire her, and she mocks you for being weak and pathetic but says that she will have you again if you “tempt” her. Nevermind the fact that tempting her requires no kind of check and she basically agrees to fuck you again no matter what you say. Also nevermind the fact that in order to notice you staring so much, she woulda had to have to intentionally been watching you. And nevermind the fact that as soon as you say you’d like to have sex again, she starts indicating that she definitely still wants you despite having used you to the fullest already.

So you have sex again. You can indicate that you’d like her to stay and cuddle this time and she’s VERY uncomfortable with the idea. She also indicates she has never done so, but that doesn’t matter. Why would she need to stay after the act was done? Why would you want her to?

Once should have been plenty for Lae’zel. Twice was overkill, surely. And maybe you think so too given she’s basically silent on your relationship until the middle of act 2. But as soon as she brings it up, it’s clear that the silence was only on your part.

Because Lae’zel has been fighting a fucking war in her head. Her world view came crashing down on her. Her goddess betrayed her and her people have turned on her. There’s a tadpole in her head that can turn her into a monster at pretty much any moment. But she has one invader in her mind and that’s you.

She knew her body and knew that she got what she wanted to satisfy it. She should be done with you, but she can’t be. Because she knew her body but clearly didn’t know her mind. Or heart. Everything that has happened to her up until this point has shown that, but YOU are just making it more confusing. She can figure out what the deal with the tadpoles are. She can figure out why Vlaakith lied. She can’t figure out why she can’t stop obsessing over you and by the time she confronts you about it, it is clearly scaring the shit out of her.

Something is either wrong with her or with you, and she needs to figure out which it is. You fight her, and no matter what, she comes out of it wanting the two of you to protect each other. She wants the two of you to belong to each other. It’s still clearly confusing but she’s at least recognized that she wants now.

And by the time you get to act 3, she’s asking you for softer touches and gentleness and affection. Shes terrified but she’s asking for them. She’s recognizing what she wants even if it’s confusing and she can’t come up with names for it.

But look at what else Lae’zel knew in act 1. She knew that purification at the crèche would cure her. She knew that Vlaakith did what was best of the githyanki and deserved absolute worship. She knew Kith’rak Voss was her most loyal general. She knew that Orpheus and anyone interested in him were heretics and evil. She knew what she needed from you and that it would only take one night.

And by act 3 she’s struggling a bit with being ignorant on how things will work, but she’s so much clearer on what she wants and needs now. To the point where the woman who you couldn’t convince to stay the night in act 1, begs you with the biggest wettest eyes imaginable to stay with her

And it absolutely was not supposed to be like this.

#lae'zel #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 19 days

Note

Aemond goes to Storm’s End to spend some time with the Baratheon daughters as he agreed to marry one of them in exchange of House Baratheon’s banners and men. He spends time with each sisters, and ends up getting along with you the best although your older sister says she deserves the prince more. You disregard their opinion and continue spending time with Aemond. Smut happens in secret…and almost gets caught

Request: Library sex!! Aemond find someone who loves books and reading and they end up having sex or maybee not all the way

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, almost getting caught,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Aemond returned to Storm’s End, he viewed the Baratheon daughters as part of his duty. He was obligated to marry one of you in exchange for your house’s support for his brother’s claim. Any of you would have done the job, but Lord Borros let him choose.

The daughters, on the other hand, saw him as a valuable prize. He was a prince. They competed fiercely for his favor, each eager to secure the final spot as his bride.

‘’Did Prince Aemond propose?’’ you asked Floris as she returned from her afternoon with the prince.

‘’He has not,’’ Floris said, sitting down on the end of the couch, still giddy from her outing. ‘’But he might soon.’’

‘’Did you kiss?’’ Cassandra pressed, wondering why her sister assumed so.

Floris shook her head, and Cassandra sighed, turning her attention back to her embroidery. She was trying to make a dragon to impress Aemond, but it was somehow looking like an oversized bee with a long neck.

Beside you, Ellyn breathed a dreamy sigh, thinking of the prince’s tall stature and sharp jawline. ‘’I’m seeing him tomorrow. I picked out a dress just for him.’’

‘’Is it the blue one?’’ Floris asked.

Ellyn nodded with a sly smile. At the moment the dress had been made, it fitted Ellyn perfectly, but now her breasts were slightly spilling out of the neckline. It wasn’t appropriate wear for a casual dinner — not anymore. But when a prince was visiting and looking for his future wife, it was perfect.

‘’That’s unfair. Not all of us have been graced by the Gods…’’ Maris moaned, jealousy evident in her voice.

When she spent time with Aemond, he made it clear that he had no interest in her. He didn’t say he didn’t wish to marry her, but she felt his disinterest. And he didn’t ask to see her again.

Cassandra interrupted, her tone sharp. ‘’As the oldest, I should be the one marrying the prince. I have flowered, therefore I am capable of providing heirs.’’

You rolled your eyes without letting her see. Three out of four of your sisters had flowered; it didn’t make her superior. Not anymore. ‘’I doubt heirs are on the prince’s mind right now, Cassandra. Not when there’s a war in preparation.’’

‘’What do you know about war?’’ She raised an eyebrow, waiting.

‘’Why do you think Prince Aemond and Prince Lucerys asked for our father’s banners and men?’’

‘’She’s right,’’ Maris said, agreeing with you. ‘’He is only marrying one of us because his brother needs our house’s support. If the king had not sent him here, he would never have thought of making one of us his wife. I doubt he even knew our names before he flew to Storm’s End on his big dragon.’’

Cassandra huffed, refusing to recognize that Maris was right.

Instead of waiting around for Ellyn’s return with Cassandra, Maris and Floris, you went to the library. You didn’t want to listen to her bragging about Aemond’s eye peeking down at her chest. Using your body to get a man’s interest was not how you planned to find your husband. For seducing the prince. You wanted him to marry you for the person you were, not the size of your breasts. The conversations would be sad.

‘’A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one,’’ a voice you recognized as Aemond’s said quietly, his voice cutting through the stillness.

You raised your head from your book, seeing him standing by one of the shelves. ‘’May I help you with something, my prince?’’

Aemond plucked a book from the shelf and glanced at the first page. ‘’Searching for something to occupy my time. I do not mean to denigrate your home, but there is very little to do on Storm’s End.’’

‘’You read?’’ you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice. It was rare to find men who were genuinely interested in books.

The prince nodded once. ‘’I have a preference for history books.’’ He closed the book he was holding and returned it to its place on the shelf.

‘’I’m afraid our library will disappoint you,’’ you said, a touch of regret in your tone. ‘’As you may have noticed, my father cannot read, and neither did my grandsire, so our collection is quite sparse.’’

Aemond’s gaze shifted to the book in your hands. ‘’What of the one you are reading?’’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘’I bought it in town. My septa taught me how to read.’’

She taught all of your sisters, but only you and Maris were interested in reading. She insisted that reading was knowledge and believed that a woman should be more than just a dutiful wife and mother. Your father would strongly disagree with her; he just sold one of his daughters for a political alliance.

‘’You never brought it up during our outing.’’

‘’I didn’t want to bore you.’’

Aemond stepped closer, the distance between you narrowing. ‘’I think reading makes you more interesting.’’

Your heart quickened as his words hung in the air.

Before your first outing with Aemond, Floris had warned you not to mention reading or books, saying that men don’t like that. It made you smile to find out she was wrong.

‘’May I join you?’’ He gestured to the seat beside you.

You nodded, and Aemond gracefully sat beside you. He took the book from your grasp. You wanted to protest, but he began reading to you, his voice deep in tone, but soft and calm at the core. No one had ever read to you before.

The torches on the walls of the library casted a golden hue over the room, creating a serene atmosphere. If your sisters knew of this intimate moment, they would be jealous. Especially Cassandra. You would love to see her reaction, watching her jaw tighten as she glared at you.

Occasionally, Aemond would pause and you heard the gentle rustle of pages turning. You allowed yourself to steal glances at him from time to times, watching his lips move as he read. He must have caught you because sometimes the corner would twitch into a slight smile.

While he read, Aemond’s voice wrapped around you like a warm embrace, each word painting vivid images in your mind. You could listen to him for hours.

‘’Why did you stop?’’ you asked, turning your head to look at Aemond with a frown drawing between your eyebrows.

He didn’t say anything. He simply looked back at you, his one eye intensely holding your gaze, and you felt a magnetic pull drawing you closer. You wanted to be all up in his personal space. You wanted to touch his face, gently trace the line of his jaw and feel the warmth of his lips beneath your fingertip.

Aemond’s gaze lowered from your eyes to your lips, sending your heart racing with a newfound intensity. Maybe this unchaperoned moment was not a good idea? Or, maybe it was exactly what you needed? Before he knew it, Aemond’s hand touched your chin, guiding it towards him. He gave you a chance to pull back, to deny him, but only a fool would do so.

You let your desire take control, closing the gap between you and kissing him. He instinctively leaned in and deepened the kiss, so tender but passionate at the same time. His scent filled your nose, his fingers in your hair while his lips pulled your bottom lip softly as he pulled away.

A silence filled the air, your head still spinning from the kiss. You reached out to tenderly caress Aemond’s face, soft and smooth beneath your palm.

Aemond dove for a second kiss, and you heard the thud of the book falling to the ground, completely forgotten. At another moment, you would have picked it up right away, but your mind was…occupied.

You reached behind Aemond’s neck and pulled him closer to you, his own hands grabbing at your waist and hips as the intensity of the kiss increased.

It wasn’t in the prince’s habits to kiss a woman like that — to kiss a woman, ever —, but something within Aemond was pushing him to make a move on you. Was this the desire his brother often told him about?

Humming against his mouth, you grabbed at the front of his jacket, needing something to grab onto as you felt your lower belly start to tingle. The new sensation caused you to shift in your seat, the sudden throbbing between your legs making sitting on a chair very uncomfortable.

‘’Did I hurt you?’’ Aemond asked when you broke the kiss.

You shook your head. ‘’No. I… Please keep going.’’

He searched your eyes for a sign that would contradict your words, and resumed when he couldn’t find any.

He slid his hand up your arm and pulled down your sleeve from your shoulder, his warm palm brushing against your bare skin and rising goosebumps. You glanced down at your newly uncovered shoulder, breathing heavily. Aemond then moved down your sides to cup one of your breasts, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing his chest flush against you. It was a clumsy position on the small reading couch, but Aemond manoeuvered himself to make it work. His hands slid down your back as his mouth traveled lower, to the dip in your throat, kissing your neck. You moaned under his mouth, the new sensation awakening so many new feelings inside you. He reached down your leg to find the bottom of your skirts and lifted the fabric to ghost his hand over your ankle and up your leg, bunching the hem up as you breathed heavily.

You knew where he was going — and you wanted it. Gentleman as always, he stopped and searched for your eyes, needing your consent before pursuing. You nodded, excitement bubbling as you felt his palm on the inner part of your thigh, very close to where you wanted him. His name left your lips in a whisper, a soft beg. He covered your mouth with his, swallowing his name as he dove his hand between your legs. You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, gently caressing the outside of you before swiping between your folds, causing you to gasp.

On the scale of forbidden things by your father, indulging in sexual activities outside of marriage — in his castle — was most likely at the top. He did not wish for his daughters to have a bastard baby or lose worth because they lost their maidenhood.

You should have asked Aemond to stop and pushed him away. But your desires were telling you to open your legs and let him in — literally.

‘’Ahh,’’ you breathed out, your fist clenching over the prince’s clothed bicep as his long finger was deep inside of you, getting squeezed by your clenching walls.

He pressed his forehead against yours, intently watching your expressions as you discovered a new pleasure.

Aemond pressed his thumb down over your clit, and started to gently massage it.

‘’Right there! It feels so good.’’ You sighed immediately and opened your legs a bit more, biting your lower lip to keep yourself from being too loud. There was no one else in the library, but anyone could come in.

He added another finger, making you moan and pant around him.

Unfortunately, the pleasure was short-lived as a servant calling your name.

‘’H-here, Jeyne,’’ you replied, trying to keep your voice steady to avoid any suspicion.

You heard her footsteps approaching on the library’s floor, and you and Aemond quickly composed yourselves. You smoothed down the skirts of your dress while he picked up your book from the floor and opened it, pretending to read as Jeyne arrived.

The servant was visibly surprised to find Aemond with you as all your time in his company had to be chaperoned. She bowed her head to him respectfully before turning to you. ‘’I did not know you had company, miss.’’ Her tone indicated she was searching for gossip.

You smiled kindly — and innocently — at Jeyne. ‘’Prince Aemond found me in the library during my afternoon reading. I was helping him find a book to take to his chamber as he forgot to bring one for his stay. You are not interrupting.’’

Despite their outward trustworthiness, you knew servants had loose lips, and that’s how rumors from the castle spread around town.

‘’What is it that you wanted?’’ you asked, pressing her leave.

Jeyne glanced nervously between you and Aemond before speaking. ‘’Your father requests your presence in the great hall, miss. A raven arrived from Winterfell and he is struggling to read it.’’

You nodded, maintaining your composed demeanor. ‘’Thank you, Jeyne. Please inform my father that I will be there shortly.’’

You watched Jeyne leave, and let out a breath once she was out of earshot. That was close. Getting caught in a compromising position would not have been good for your reputation.

Aemond closed his book, a frown marring his composed posture. ‘’I apologize for losing my manners, miss Y/N. I don't usually engage in these kinds of…activities in public places.’’ The mention of sex seemed to make him uncomfortable. His usual confidence was replaced by a rare vulnerability.

‘’I don’t either,’’ you said, your cheeks flushed as you stared at the skirt of your dress. ‘’I…I should get going. I promised to help Cassandra pick her dress for tomorrow. Not all dresses are suited for horseback riding.’’ You rose from the reading couch, giving Aemond one last glance. ‘’I’ll see you later at dinner, my prince.’’

You made a move to leave, but Aemond clasped his hand over your wrist. His touch was firm yet gentle, sending a shiver down your spine. ‘’That won't be necessary,’’ he interrupted, his voice low and steady. ‘’In case I haven't made myself clear, I've already made my choice. I want you.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl

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#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond hotd

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purple-babygirl · 2 months

Text

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!”

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

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forever--darling · 1 year

Text

the deepest sighs, the frankest shadows | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: it's been a week since the consciousness transfer and there is more to adjust to than just your new body. for starters, the approaching threat of the sky people and the preparations for war. or, that in an attempt to bring some light back into the world, mo'at finally announced the future olo'eyktan's mate. choices are to be made as both relationships with the sully brothers are still unclear. somehow, though your heart is already made up, and what about the perfect soldier? it brings up the question: duty or love?

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 18.1k (this is insane)

warnings/notes: the end at last, smut, minors DNI (18+ please), unprotected sex, slight choking, mating, swearing, mention of sky people, confessions upon confessions, neteyam being stupid but also completely obsessed with you, loose ends tied up, brother reconciliation, angst (has to be), crying, fluff, happy ending?

series masterlist | one of us: part eight (finale) | requests are currently open for now

Please, let him be soft.

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan his whole life had been compared to gunmetal, sharp arrows, and serrated teeth of the most vicious predator in Pandora. He resembled all of those things because he was a warrior, the best soldier, and a hero to many — or at least he would be once he won this war and became Olo’eyktan. Many people compared him to many things; all deadly, crenulated, and power filled. It was very deserving to be spoken of so highly and to that degree because Neteyam didn’t lose a fight.

He didn’t falter or show weakness, and like any soldier, had the ability to push down his feelings until they were so small and minuscule they were barely there. He was built and trained up since he was no more than a child preparing for this future, this prophecy, and this battle against the sky people. Neteyam Sully was Toruk Makto’s eldest son and in turn the best-prepared soldier for the upcoming war.

Those who saw him as all those things refused to realize that he was also Na’vi, not made of steel or unbreakable shields, but of humanity. His humanity and ability to have feelings were shown a mere week before as he stood in the middle of the village, a limp body strewn along his arms. The perfect soldier then was not unwarpable or without weakness. Just like old, warn, and overused things, he had broke in front of everyone. He is no robot, no man without emotions as no leader should be without a strong heart. Fearless, improbable, and also not one of the eldest son’s traits because he very much had feared. Feared losing the very woman no one would have ever expected him to fall for. In that brief time, everyone saw that heroes hold just as much humanity, and more so heroes have the ability to break.

But, please let him be soft.

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan had shattered and then when it was all said and done, with nothing left to cry for, his emotions were packed up and sent away again. Without even being fixed, he returned to being the hero that held the entire world on his shoulders. Because even if you asked and begged, Eywa would tell you just as anyone else that the world needed him. His hope, his strength, his courage, his leadership, and his strength. The world needs everything and he will give it all, including his heart.

It was no longer yours, not since the consciousness transfer, not completely. You wanted nothing more than to go to him when you woke up. You wished for him to reveal that he was flawed and breakable and somehow felt immensely for you. You wanted the whole world to know he was soft and that he was yours. You wanted to kiss him, feel him, know that the two of you could now have it — all of it while you still could. In that brief moment of clarity with all the walls built up before they came crumbling down again. It was only a matter of time, a matter of solitude before the storm would come and before the enemy would come.

Suddenly, everything had aligned and life was no longer at your fingertips. It was no longer outside of a large metal box or a sleep away. It was right here, right in front of your face. You went asleep for the last time in your original form and when you woke up with Toruk Makto staring down at you, hand cradling your face, you knew you had made it to your true form. You made it to your reality, your existence.

It all was in your grasp and you would never let it go again. You stared up at Vitraya Ramunong’s mauve neuron rods and you realized that this was why she had sent you back. With tears kissing your cheeks, you realized she had granted you this silent prayer so he could be soft and he could be yours.

Neteyam would give them everything until he was nothing but a shell of himself, nothing but an imprint of dust. He would give and they would take it all, anything he could spare. Neteyam would give them everything so she gave him you.

You were there because of him.

If only you could tell him that. If you were only given a minute, a spare moment, to say how irrefutably in love with him you were. If only Eywa could prolong a spindle of time so that if anything were to happen either of you could go with touched lips and empty mouths. You could go without anything else to say.

Somehow though as soon as you were okay and back in good health, you realized that where gunmetal can warp and tarnish, it can also be repaired. Arrows could be glued and dull teeth, sharpened. What once was could be again and you grasped that over the next week. A week full of weaponry dispenses, battle practices, meetings upon meetings of planning routes, and combat groups. The conversation revolved around the sky people, the territory they had long since crossed, and their weaponry only. Everyone had nearly forgotten about your visit with Eywa, the consciousness transfer, and you and Neteyam.

If you weren’t practicing flying your Ikran and shooting your bow or locked in the grasps of Tuk and Kiri, you were talking strategies with Jake. Somehow he had noticed that after all your training and previous knowledge of humans, there was a warrior buried deep inside of you. You had become an asset to him despite the close loss. If you had a moment to spare, you were constantly in search of Neteyam, just begging the Great Mother for more than a passing glance or nod of acknowledgment.

If you managed to see one another, you both would momentarily freeze and just stare at one another almost painfully, so many words needing to be said. There were so many times when he would try to mouth something to you but it never got far because he was swept away in a matter of seconds. Neteyam was busier than you were, having become his father’s right-hand man and despite only being nineteen was promoted to one of the generals of the operation. If he wasn’t training, he was for laying his father’s orders. He was no longer soft or yours but the mighty warrior once again.

Then if he had any moment at all, Tsahik was dragging him away to discuss whatever was required of him for his courtship. That was another thing that had happened, Neteyam’s mate had been announced, proudly to the clan. Mo’at thought it would help with providing calmness to the people. That despite the alarms going off in everyone’s head that there was something to celebrate, the manhood of their future Olo’eyktan and his future wife.

Tsmandi Te Nätäkx Ayitul’ite — the finest young healer in the clan. She had been training with Mo’at for years, and somehow over the last six months, you hadn’t thought to see her as more than the Tsahik’s healer in training. You should have seen the signs and many reasons why she and Neteyam could be a perfect fit. She was intelligent, kind, and able to lead the people alongside him. Not to mention she was stunning with long wavy hair, a small curved nose, and perfect blue and ivory markings along her skin. She was the perfect choice for Tsahik and somehow at the news, it was hard to even hate her for it.

You wanted to. You wanted to hate her so bad but you knew that there was no point in it. No point in hating her when it was just as much out of her control as Neteyam’s. It wasn’t her fault that you had feelings for him or that despite most of the village realizing it that Mo’at continued to go forth with the arranged courtship anyway. It wasn’t her fault that Jake had actively noticed how his son felt about you and instead of stepping in or saying anything, he decided to stick his head in the sand and focus on the other problems that plagued the clan. Neytiri had tried to talk to her mother, to try and revert the match but despite her being the wife of Olo’eyktan, Mo’at still had say and control over the pairings. A pairing she didn’t see you fit for. They were to consummate their mateship and get married as soon as things slowed down with the sky people, possibly as soon as after the first battle and airstrike.

Of course, you had no idea what Neteyam was thinking or feeling because whenever you saw him, he was back to focusing on his duties, the weight everyone asked him to carry. It seemed even his own heart, soul, and suffering he was trying to manage. You would bear it, but it seemed he didn’t want you to.

A storm was coming and suddenly you had come to the conclusion that a moment would never be supplemented for you to be able to talk to Neteyam. The two of you were like the sun and the moon — revolving around one another, unable to touch and it didn’t matter how close you got, you would never meet. He was the sun, the source of your warmth, the ability for you to breathe. With such an effect to provide for everyone, came a price to pay. One that resembled a fleeting moment he shared with the moon at dusk and dawn because where he was the sun, he was the untouchable, uncurable, unfreeable. He wasn’t yours and because of the perfect soldier in him, he might never be.

“So, based on how they are approaching the village, we know they would invade from this direction. There are no other markings that are east of the village so there won’t be any of them over on that side. The only thing we have to worry about is them coming from the sky, which is where the group on the Ikrans will come in,” Jake was in the middle of the same spiel he had been going over for three days now with the same people: all of the riders and soldiers.

You found yourself glancing over past your eyelashes to Neteyam who stood on one side of Jake, as a right-hand man, and Lo’ak on the other. Even with his troublesome and risky behavior, he was still expected to fight and the sight of the two of them together now with faded green bruises and cuts shrunken down to small lines, you were unable to look away. You hadn’t spoken to Lo’ak yet about his proposal or the idea of you two mating because every spare moment was put towards Neteyam but where there was no conversation with Neteyam, it meant you weren’t able to have one with Lo’ak. He was getting antsy evident in the way his eyes found yours in a full room or he tried to catch you while you were alone after training. Somehow it hall had been avoided though.

“Neteyam and I will be with the airborne group,” Jake said then, his son’s name drawing your attention back to the importance of the meeting, “We will start here and fly there, waiting for a signal.”

“If you are a spotter you do not engage until you have to. We will take care of the first lines of fire and lead the attack,” Neteyam’s voice was serious as he glanced between the riders, the edge to his tone coinciding with that of a leader. His eyes flickered towards you but no longer than they had anyone else. You felt your stomach rise and fall just as quickly as he continued, “You’re spotters, you report, and that is all. When you see something, call it in, and then wait for further orders.”

Neteyam glanced around his father to Lo’ak who sent in a noticeable eye roll back. Jake knocked his elbow into the side of his youngest son and Lo'ak straightened up suddenly at the realization that his father had seen what he did in response to the future Olo’eyktan. A mutual understanding moved through the small crowd like a hush as Lo’ak nodded toward his father — everyone silently agreeing to listen to every word that Neteyam was saying.

This wasn’t another ‘what-if’ scenario or a hypothetical situation to use to prepare the people or yourselves. This was real and it was actually happening. Gone was the comfort that appeared with the ‘what-ifs’, a small understanding that no matter what was said or done they would remain as they were, a hypothetical situation. But now, things had inevitably changed. There was no putting this to sleep because it would still be the only thing thought about as soon as everyone left the room.

There was no going back to how things were; before the sky people, and their arrival. Ever since the night of your ceremony when Jake and Neteyam found them near the territory line, they were always there; not just in the forest slowly creeping closer and closer but in everyone’s minds. It was no longer a scenario but a possibility that would finally appear soon.

A few nights ago you had overheard Jake talking to Neytiri that if things begin to deter far in advance of the war, they should flee — protect their home for as long as they can but if it begins to go downhill, leave while they all still can. He had already advised many women and children to leave, and find shelter and solace within the mountains where he knew the technological advances could not operate. You were pondering how long it would take until he ordered everyone else to retreat, even the mightiest of warriors.

It was sure to happen because he wasn’t the same marine or Jake Sully he once was. The Toruk Makto had laid his reign to rest and now there was more at stake; his family. Before it was about honor and portraying a message about the quality of life. Many losses had occurred but for the greater cause of success. It seemed that even as the clan faced that same threat, Jake wasn’t as dedicated to the message, not if it meant losing the lives of many. He wouldn’t show it though, not to those still willing to lose their lives to protect their home. To protect their views, he would keep up the facade that he was the same leader he once was proud of.

“They’re coming and they aren’t going to stop unless we do something about it,” Jake said, a small hiss falling from his lips as he thought back to this long hard fight that had become his life, “They think that they can take whatever they want, but we have sent them this message before and we will do it again. That we won’t stop, not as long as they keep coming. We will fight. You will fly with me, your Olo'eyktan, and we will remind them that they can’t do this. They can’t take whatever they want while we’re still standing. So, prepare yourself, brothers and sisters, because they are coming, but they don’t realize that we’ll be ready!”

Cheers and hollers filled your ears as you looked around at the riders, spotters, and soldiers all soaking in every single word their brave leader had to offer. He had led them to victory once against the sky people and he would do it again. That was what all their faces said as they stared forward, with no moment to fear what could happen next or if they would even be alive to see that victory. His words shook you straight to your bones but you could only stare forward, in shock, as you took in the expressions of both of his sons. Lo’ak with one of his fists in the air, a grin was stretched across his face, almost satisfyingly as he thought about the violence that was soon to come. It was a look of vengeance, wanting and needing justice for all his people's pain.

Then there was Neteyam.

Please, let him be soft.

Strong, mighty warrior, Neteyam. He stood proudly, his hands on his hips, head tilted at the sight before him. Honorable future Olo’eyktan, Neteyam would follow his father to the ends of the world and would even let it take him if it meant he could save everyone else. He would sacrifice everything just to feel his father gushing with pride. That was who he was and suddenly like the worst realization, you knew it wouldn’t matter how much you wished for someone to just hear you, to let him be soft and be full of imperfections. You wished that he would walk away but that seemed like too big of an ask from you when the world needed him as much as it did.

Somehow his eyes found yours and his mighty statue faltered slightly under the weight of your gaze and your longingness. His lips curled slightly into a frown, one holding every emotion and every word you knew he wished he could say. That he felt for you in a way he didn’t for anyone else and that he could want you the way he did but it wouldn’t change anything. His look held so much admiration and softness, but even in it, you could see the harshness of reality — the one thing he could never say out loud. I can’t.

As if his proclamation meant nothing. As if losing you, or the fact that it had almost happened hadn’t done enough for him to leave his duties to the side. Like even though you were standing right there in front of him, everything he could want, he still couldn’t do this for you. He couldn’t go against what was expected of him at least not then, not with what was at risk. Suddenly as your heart constricted in your chest, his intense stare never leaving your trembling frame, it felt like you had been too stupid to fall under his spell. I see you. It suddenly had lost all meaning to your life.

As soon as Jake was done making his grand speech and the noise level had faded to a mere nothing, you found yourself sneaking out from the tent, beating the rush that was sure to follow. You felt his eyes drag over your back as you slipped out into the evening air, the sun beginning to set behind the tree line. A wind rippled along your skin, goosebumps being left in its wake as you approached your tent to leave your bow and chest guard.

The many voices of the rest of the riders and spotters filled the air as they began to exit from the tent. You hurried around the corner, eyes taking in the sudden dullness that seemed to have fallen over the area. The familiar dash of children was gone, instead, it was a mere memory as the village was now completely filled with soldiers, and riders, all decked out in armor and with weapons. The warmth that once was provided by the Omatikaya people had faded to a numbing fear that rattled everyone’s teeth.

Fear of the unknown, the fear of having to wait for the unknown. It was all that was on people’s minds and the days were no longer filled with meals, prayers, or times of celebration. In place of it, all was prepared for a war that could appear any day now. With everything, it felt like you hadn't been flirting with the possibility of death a few days prior or passed through the eye of Eywa. It was like you had never been human at all.

Somehow you integrated quickly, ideally, as if this was where you always were meant to be. It didn’t change the fact that every time you closed your eyes at night in your hut, you weren’t used to not having them open again in the link pod. It was the most significant adjustment, knowing you were no longer bouncing back and forth from one body to the other. You closed your eyes and opened them again in the morning with no interruption in between. That was your life now.

As you approached your tent, you heard the rushed footsteps from behind you as they bounced hurriedly across the dirt of the ground. You felt your heart pick up in your chest at the possibility of it being Neteyam but the feeling faded just as quickly as you heard the person call out to you.

“Y/N!” Lo’ak.

You sighed, peering over your shoulder, having should have known that it would be him over his older brother. Neteyam would never run after you like that. He was deliberate with even how he walked to protect his precious image from the rest of the people and he needed to seem calm and collected. Lo’ak’s face scattered in paint of orange and green, meaning he was probably about to go out on a spotting run and was just trying to catch you before. A quick conversation you hoped, as you still hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him you couldn’t accept his proposal.

“What, Lo’ak?” you asked, turning back to your tent, slipping inside.

"Wow," he followed, surprise forming on his face as he watched you place your bow down on the table, “Really, you’re not going to rush off this time?”

He had a point as for days you had been so concentrated on getting Neteyam alone, you were practically running at the sight of Lo’ak and his reckless confession that had left you backed up in a corner. A corner you now had to face head-on because what once was a hypothetical scenario had become your life overnight. You like a mighty soldier came out on the other side and now your future lay before you bare of any plans or decisions.

You were so blinded by the love you felt deep within your chest, you hadn’t thought any further than the way it had wholly consumed you. There was that word again, consumed. Consumption. Almost as if Neteyam’s love was water that would cure the dire thirst that had overtaken your lonely soul. Somehow the dire need had taken over every other physiological ask of your body.

Lo’ak had not been a priority but how could he have been when this obsession had once again become a “will they, won’t they” scenario.

“Y/N,” your name fell from his lips like the softest touch and you felt the recoil of your heart back into your chest, “If you plan to make a break for it I am not going to just let you go this time. Frankly, if you try to run off, I am just going to go after you and I think you remember that it is quite easy for me to catch you.”

You sent him a narrowed look over your shoulder before you busied yourself again with removing the chest guard as well as the knife strapped to your waist, “You never stop do you? With the flirting?”

“Well why would I ever stop when I get to see that look on your face every time I do it,” he chuckled, eyes flickering over the fierce glare and the furrow in your brow that matched the same one you once had when you were human. Even though you now stood only a few inches shorter than him and with ivory-dotted skin, you still were so much like the you he once knew, all starting from the animated expressions that coated your face in life.

He reached forward his thumb brushing over the folded skin, “The crinkle right above your nose only ever shows up when you’re annoyed or angry. And you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

You smacked his hand away and sighed loudly not finding his affection welcoming in the slightest with the current circumstances at hand; the sky people, the guarantee of war, the possibility that any of them could die, the fact that he was still waiting for you to accept his ask to be his mate, or that he knew very well how you and his brother felt about one another. His flirting didn’t feel right in any way at that moment.

“Can you stop that, just… what is it, Lo’ak?” you sighed, rubbing the furrow he had been talking about seconds ago. You hoped it would disappear under your fingers, smoothing back to normal to keep him from feeling any more satisfaction. He knew your expressions and feelings inside and out, filling you with the worst dread, “Why are you here?”

“We need to talk,” he shrugged, casually as if the conversation he was hoping to have was just that but you knew better. Based on the glint in his eyes and the sly smile, you knew that nothing was casual at all about it and that with the charm laid on thick, he finally once again had you in that corner.

“Lo’ak…”

“No, I am not letting you walk away from this again. This can’t go on any longer,” he said, voice lowering as his hand extended forward as if it was going to touch you but it stopped mid-air due to the way your eyes hastily followed it. It fell back down to his side and you instantly felt guilty about it.

His mouth parted then as if he was going to say something else but you stepped forward, practically begging him not to, “Lo’ak, stop."

“Y/N,” he warned.

“Don’t say another word,” you professed, taking a step back away from him, “Not about this. Everything I said that night remains true and I haven’t changed my mind. I won’t let you do this, I can’t. I will not hold you back and diminish your chances of falling in love.”

“Y/N—”

“No!” you shouted then, feeling your shoulders shake at the exasperation of the word, “We can’t. You deserve better Lo’ak and I deserve better. Marriage and mating are not some solution so you don’t end up alone. I would rather be alone than become something you’ll resent. I won’t do that to myself.”

“You’re right,” he said, his words ringing out but muffled by the intense panic you felt as soon as his voice filled your ears.

“No, Lo’ak—”

“Y/N!” he raised his voice as both hands took your shoulders firmly. Shaking you lightly, your frantic eyes found his, finally flickering up from where you had been staring at the ground. You were met with a soft smile so loving and kind as a deep chuckle escaped from his mouth, “I said you’re right.”

“What?” your ears flattened slightly in shock as your eyes widened.

He laughed again, thumbs beginning to rub circles into the inside of your arms, finding the most amusement from the look on your face. “Look, I love you. I do, but not enough, and surely not as I should. Watching you and Neteyam this week, I realized that how I feel about you can’t compare in the slightest. And expectations or logistics of the future put aside, it would be wrong of me to make you settle for someone who doesn’t look at you the way he does. You deserve more than what I can give you and I am sorry I didn’t realize it earlier.”

The look hadn’t faded from your face, instead, it only deepend, your hands finding his arms, able to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, “Really?”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “Plus, do you really think I want to be with a girl who would rather have my brother. No thanks.”

Your heart clenched in your chest, twisting and turning almost like you were about to be sick even though the look on his face resembled only amusement and laughter. Like his own joke was too funny not to laugh at himself. Your grip on his arms tightened unexpectedly, “I’m—”

“Shut up,” he cut you off, eyes narrowing at the way you were going to profusely apologize for something that had been completely out of your control the moment you had met Neteyam. Lo’ak even noticed it the first night, how you looked at his older brother like he had hung the stars. Even when he was less than welcoming during that first meeting, you saw the world in his eyes. “I’m fucking with you. It’s fine.”

“Is it?” you asked, hesitantly.

“Yes.”

You weren't convinced evident in the way your gaze fell back to the ground, not fully able to meet his eyes from the shame and guilt that was eating away at you. You had hurt him and led him on out of fear and it was inexcusable. With Lo'ak though, when it came to you he was always quick to forgive. Shown in the way, his fingers wrapped around your chin, lifting your head so your eyes once again met his.

“I have been second to Neteyam my whole life in everything and I don’t think I could go through with being the person you’d settle for just because you couldn’t have him. You were always right about that, how we shouldn’t choose to be with someone to settle. If we had, I think it would’ve killed me. We would have truly been miserable,” he admitted sadly with a solemn smile overtaking his features.

You had felt your eyes well up at his words, at the pain that had decorated his face in the form of worried lines and battered scars. He was right, just as you had been a week ago and had been every day since. The two of you would have been miserable but it didn’t deny the sudden sadness that formed. The grief that had formed for your friendship that might just never be the same and the love you swore you could have felt for the Sully son in another life. In this existence, you weren’t meant for one another and your souls would never coincide but possibly in another life and another world they would have.

“I want you to know I was never angry with you that it was Neteyam you chose. Even with him getting everything, I could never be angry with you about that,” he squeezed your arms under his palms as he paused for a brief second before continuing, “The reason I was so upset was that I was afraid he was going to hurt you. I know my brother and I knew that duty comes first, it always would, so I figured Tsmandi would come first. But watching him this last week, watching him as we all almost lost you, I can see now that nothing will stop him from feeling how he does when it comes to you.”

You felt your breath hitch, the weight leaving your entire body as you stared up at Lo’ak in slight awe. Not a single ounce of annoyance or jealousy filled his face, no spitefulness. When he said he loved you, he was telling the truth and when he said that it couldn’t compare to Neteyam’s feelings it was said with so much courage. There was no anger there laced within his wide eyes, but so much reassurance.

“When you came here Neteyam was a soldier who carried his mighty sword on his back. Before I would have told you that without a doubt he would stick to his orders, and his duties as the firstborn but he’s not the same person anymore. He is more than our father’s perfect little soldier but our future Olo’eyktan. He has a strong heart. He’s fit to be a ruler and to lead the clan to victory. But most of all, a man with a strong heart doesn’t take orders from anyone.”

“No, stop that,” you denied, suddenly, his words too much. Your face fell as you thought back to the last few days ever since you woke up from the transfer in a haze, a desperate haze for Neteyam's attention. He was and always had been the soldier the world expected of him. “Don’t say things that aren’t true.”

“But it is true.”

He would give them everything. He wasn’t soft, and he wasn’t yours.

You shook your head and sniffled, “No.”

He was a king’s son and there was no room for love among duty. It was inevitable and Lo’ak’s words only drilled holes in the hope he had built up seconds before.

“Yes it is and you’re being stupid,” Lo’ak said then effortlessly and it stung as it slid in past your chest.

Your eyebrows knitted together again, “Lo’ak!”

“Well you are,” he laughed, shaking his head, “You’re being just as stupid as he is. You’re stupid and in complete denial. It’s like you don’t realize you hold his heart in your hands. His feelings for you aren’t going anywhere. Neteyam is a ruler, yes with no fear, but I never said that a king sometimes doesn’t need a little push here and there.”

There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn, smeared with oil like David’s boy. He will tear your city down…

An English poet once wrote that “there is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”

Neteyam never knew who this man was or what he did that made his life so damn significant. He just saw him as he was, a sky person that once lived hundreds of thousands of years ago, facing the same idealistic problems that seemed to also be consuming his world. No, the future Olo’eyktan couldn’t care less about William Shakespeare but more about what he said. There is a tide in the affairs of men. In reality, the saying meant more having come from his father, first told to the young boy when he was no more than ten years old. The marine himself had heard it from Norm not long after he had arrived on Pandora.

The famous line stuck with Jake after all these years and he then passed it on to his oldest son, who seemed he would need it one day. That evening, sitting in the dark tent, the newest crafted bead on his songchord being rubbed between his thumb and forefinger, that was all he could think about. There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.

There was a possibility of violence and war soon approaching followed by a long line of grief and all he could think about was that damn poet’s line his father had told him time and time again the older he got. Neteyam sat near the doorway of the tent and peered out towards the darkness of the forest while the sound of his father’s voice faded in the background accompanied by the taking apart and putting back together of guns. One pulled apart sat at Neteyam’s feet but he had lost interest in the weapon long after the sun had set.

His mind drifted then to where it always seemed to end up, you. More specifically, the way you had looked at him during the meeting earlier that evening, the disbelief and the pain that had overtaken your face. The complete betrayal you felt as the days were fading away quickly, days where he was still free and not some other woman’s.

He had held you with your last dying breath and said the most intimate words anyone could say within the clan and yet, he stood there across the room acting as if they meant nothing. To him, it was the most significant thing he had done in his life, but in a minor lapse of judgment, he had let the rest of his responsibilities appear again and take away his attention. Where every day passed until he and Tsmandi would be asked to be mated, also was another day gone until the sky people attacked the village. It was just a matter of time which one would occur first.

He felt his disappointment in himself increase as well as a wave of anger at his lack of awareness. He already almost lost you once and Eywa couldn’t promise the two of you a lifetime together or years to come of oblivious bliss. Nothing was promised and he was sitting there wasting every second for a battle that very well could kill him.

“Neteyam,” the sound of Jake’s voice pulled him back into the present.

He was clutching the bead so tightly in between his fingers, it had slipped and the entire songchord had fallen onto the ground. He hadn’t even noticed the absence that was left within his grasp. Not bothering to pick it up, his eyes expectantly found his father’s. The gun he had been putting back together sat in his lap in pieces, but he had paused to get Neteyam’s attention. His brows were raised curiously and a small curl was starting to appear on his lips. A look that Neteyamw wasn’t quite sure he had seen before.

Jake then nodded towards the entrance of the tent, his ears flickering as he did so, “Go on.”

“What?” Neteyam asked, unsure if he had heard him correctly.

“Go on,” he repeated, nodding his head again, “If I know her as well as I think I do, she won’t wait forever.”

Neteyam’s eyes widened then, hands dangled across his knees as he tried to process the words he never thought he would hear but felt himself reveling in for moments on end. Brows furrowed slightly, he felt as if it had been too good to be true because there was certainly no way. “But Dad—”

“You’re a good warrior Neteaym,” Jake complimented as his hands began to fiddle with the weapon in his lap just as a sudden emotion appeared in his voice, “But you’re destined to be a ruler someday, to become the next Olo’eyktan. An Olo’eyktan makes decisions for himself. No fear.”

“No fear,” Neteyam repeated slowly, still unsure if any of it was real.

“Now, go. I will handle your grandmother.”

Jake’s final words were all the confirmation that Neteyam needed. Picking up his songchord and gripping it tightly in his palm, Neteyam rushed out of the tent, leaving the burdens and the ripped-apart gun behind. Able to feel the way the moon and the stars reflected across his skin in the dark, he couldn’t help but pause outside the tent and peer up at the sky. A soft smile began to pull at his lips and in that brief pause of time, he sent up the quietest whispers of gratitude to the Great Mother. Then as if the world had finally felt like it was going in the right direction, he tightened his hold around the songchord as a new sense of determination formed. It took hold around the base of his stomach, filling him with the greatest fire known to man; pertinacity.

With hurried steps, he made his way across the village, your tent in sight. He could see the dim lighting from the lantern inside and he felt himself holding his breath as he reached for the flap of it. What would you say when you saw him there practically groveling for forgiveness, for a chance to prove himself? How would he properly say in so many words that he was wrong and that it had always been you? It’s you. Even as the world was starting to cave in around him, it was you he thought about and dreamed about. It was you and he had been entirely stupid for so long.

He took a deep breath, fingers clutched around the fabric but as he went to pull it back, he was distracted by the sound of a loud whistle. It made his ears twitch and he found himself turning to locate the loud noise. His hand fell away from the tent as he found Lo’ak just a few feet away slowly approaching, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and a look on his face Neteyam couldn’t quite decipher. Some lingering yellow markings were still pressed along the younger brother’s temple and arms, but they were practically invisible in the dark. A week ago, Neteyam had only looked at Lo’ak with hatred and with his fists balled tightly together, a feeling that had never been there before when it came to his younger brother.

Now as they stood only a few feet from one another, in front of your tent, still having never addressed that night, Neteyam felt his stomach tighten again. Not only in guilt about what he had done but also in slight anger as his resentment and jealousy still lingered under the surface. Lo’ak had asked you to be his mate, and Neteyam still didn’t know what the outcome would be or what you had even decided to do. He refused to be in a room with Lo’ak unless it had something to do with the ongoing conflict with the sky people, so now standing there in the darkness of the village, there was an obvious amount of tension that still lingered.

Lo’ak nodded in the direction of the forest behind him, shrugging his shoulders as he did so, “You just missed her. I am sure you could still catch her though.”

Neteyam heard the words and slowly felt his stoic expression and rigid stature fade. His fists unclenched and his ears flickered curiously. His lips parted slowly, in surprise as he glanced from his younger brother to the forest practically calling his name, “Lo’ak—”

“You’re the better man,” he said, cutting him off and shrugging his shoulders as he did so, “You always were. I was just too stubborn to get out of your way.”

The future Olo’eyktan found himself shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe that his younger brother thought he was the only one at fault here. They both had been. Things had only fallen apart because of their indignation toward one another and their incessant need to push down all of their real feelings until they no longer felt as if they existed. It was something they both had gotten from their father and it had shown with how they chose to handle this whole situation, with violence.

“I have always been too hard on you, Lo’ak. It's unfair.”

The younger Sully laughed, his chest rumbling slightly almost as if he was trying to brush off all the seriousness that was forming, “It is what is expected of you. You should be hard on me because I need it. We’re not kids anymore Neteyam and I need to start taking responsibility for my own actions. I have been letting you do it for far too long. So please hear me and believe me when I say that I was wrong about this. I knew how you felt about her and even when I saw how she so obviously looked at you, I chose to ignore it.”

“You were doing what you thought was right, I can respect that,” Neteyam replied honestly, his eyes softening at the sight of the pained expression plastered across Lo’ak’s face.

“No, I was trying to be you.”

His brows furrowed at Lo’ak’s admission, lips curling slightly into a frown at the emphasis of the word you. Something that he never expected to hear. “What do you mean?”

“I was trying to be you. I thought I was protecting her… that I could protect her, but I’m not you. I was wrong, Neteyam because she never needed my protection. I was scared that you would hurt her, that somehow your duty, your need to put everyone else first would wreck everything. I was trying to protect her, but I can’t do that because I’m not you. I am not made to be a ruler.”

There is a tide in the affairs of men.

I am not you.

Neteyam felt his deep inhale get lodged within his chest at Lo’ak’s words, ripping what was left of the walls he had built up to pieces. Ears pulled tautly back, he stepped forward and found his hand reaching out to take a hold of his younger brother’s shoulder, “Lo’ak, it is a good thing. I wouldn’t want you to be me. I wouldn’t want you to carry these burdens. It’s suffocating.”

Lo’ak’s head fell slightly, almost like he was guilty he was the younger son, free of more responsibilities and expectations. Even though it had not been his choice, he felt guilty that Neteaym was the one who had his future completely planned out for him, that because of their birth order, his brother was unable to fully commit himself to you.

Neteyam squeezed his shoulder lightly, “I am glad it’s not you, Lo’ak. I am so relieved that you are who you are. I know the guilt you must feel but it’s not a weight you should waste time bearing. This wasn’t a choice you made and you need to let it go. Yes, you’re not me. You’re not a perfect little soldier, but believe me, it’s not a title worth having.”

The honest sentiment was strong as it settled deep within Lo’ak’s chest suddenly breaking through all the resentment that had been there for years. The outcast. The wrong brother. The mess up. It all no longer mattered as he stared at Neteyam because for years while he had been so busy trying to hate him and make his life harder, he failed to realize just how unlucky the firstborn really was.

It was never that Neteyam got everything he wanted but rather was given everything without a choice in the matter. Everything and everyone’s approval he hadn’t asked for. In exchange the pressure to be perfect, to do everything right, and to never disappoint. The reality that had been looming over them their whole lives was that Neteyam wasn’t the lucky son, not in the slightest, just the one that held the entire family and world in his hands.

It surely was a responsibility Lo’ak was relieved he would never have.

“I mean look what it has gotten me,” Neteyam said then, shame covering his face as he glanced over his shoulder at the tent, “I have hurt her. I have continuously hurt the only woman I have ever had feelings for.”

“Feelings?” Lo’ak asked, eyes narrowing as he observed the reaction that overtook his brother’s face from the question, “You love her then?”

It was a softness Lo'ak had never seen on his brother’s face before. It was like all worry and all weight had left him in a matter of seconds. What was left was a mere admiration for the woman who was sitting waiting in the woods. She had left to pray to Eywa, to ask for answers for her heartbreak that seemed to be inevitable but the answer was as clear as day and standing right in front of Lo’ak. It was the soft lift of the corners of Neteyam’s lips to the coruscated flash in his eyes.

“Y-Yes.”

Lo’ak nodded, slightly surprised that Neteyam finally admitted it but somehow not surprised by the response that finally confirmed everything. It had always been there under the surface. The answer to the very question he asked moments ago, but to actually hear it out loud was foreign.

“You should go,” Lo’ak said then, glancing briefly over his shoulder to the forest and the direction you had disappeared to, he could only assume to the spot Neteyam had introduced you to.

Neteyam’s face pinched together for a moment, brows furrowing as he tried to analyze Lo’ak’s expression and his sudden need to send him off into the forest. It was almost as if his younger brother couldn’t handle any more of the conversation. The younger Sully stepped back, putting some more space in between them.

As Neteyam was going to say something more, he was silenced quickly as Lo’ak raised his hands, “I am fine. It’s fine, really. I am just saying you shouldn’t waste any more time. You should go.”

He agreed silently and knew then that after everything that had happened; the tension, the arguments, that fight that broke out somehow this one conversation had healed all wounds. It had healed those very blows that had been sent to Neteyam’s chest and had brought the worst rage out of him. The betrayal he felt seeped away and somehow nothing was left but the forgiveness and understanding that clouded his mind. It was a reconciliation that had somehow seemed to fix all of the things from over the years of growing up under the same roof, always in competition, acting as if their father’s pride was something to be won.

Lo’ak for years had felt that he had always come second and that he would never be Neteyam. It wasn’t a disagreeable aspect anymore but rather something he could learn to see as understandable. He didn’t want to be Olo’eyktan, not really, and that came with all the standards laced within the title. For the first time in years, there was an understanding between the two, an acceptance of sorts and it all started and ended with you.

Neteyam slipped by Lo’ak, the confirmation of you being in the forest already guiding him to a certain place he was sure you'd ran off to. The only place either of you'd end up when it was this late and with dangers lurking around. It was the only spot either of you would wait for the other and it brought the most comfort when times were dire and destructive. There was no knowing what would fall upon the forest the next day or the day after. No guarantee of what would happen to the clan, to the village, to the people, and to those who were about to put their lives at risk for the entirety of their belief system.

Neteyam very well could die tomorrow and now suddenly all he could wish for was to have one night. One night where you could be his and he could be yours, completely, honestly with nothing else wedged between the two of you. He wished to have you, to feel your skin beneath his fingers, to memorize the way you would look up at him, and the way you would say his name. Most of all he just wanted you to promise him that it wasn’t too late. That he hadn’t fucked things up that bad.

He needed to hear that despite everything you loved him.

Just as his feet reached the tree line, Neteyam stopped at the sound of Lo’ak calling out to him again. Turning around, he found his younger brother sending him a proud smile, one that reached his eyes, not an ounce of sadness or disappointment to be shared between the two. “Just take care of her okay?”

A single nod was all that was expressed from the older Sully, the man who had fallen so irrevocably in love he couldn’t imagine doing anything else for the rest of whatever time he had left — take care of you was the only thing at the top of his list. Fuck the responsibilities. Fuck the arranged marriage or the expected mateship. Fuck the control his grandmother seemingly wanted over who his partner was going to be.

Jake’s words rang around in Neteyam's ears as he turned back towards the forest and stepped inside.

An Olo’eyktan makes decisions for himself. No fear.

He found himself suddenly picking up his pace, the wind brushing along his skin as he began to run. His knife clattered across his thigh from the holder around his waist colliding with his songchord as he brushed past the brush and tree branches. His eyes were set forward in the dark, the lush glow of the forest the only thing to guide him as he felt his lungs begin to burn. They burned for air as his legs began to ache. Sweat was forming along his brow but the only thing his mind was set on is getting to you.

No fear. He kept repeating it to himself over and over again. Simply, because he didn’t fear much. He never gave a second thought to what his father asked of him. Being a soldier and the talk of war never scared him somehow. He prepared his whole life to someday die in battle but you, somehow telling you how he felt was so much worse. The idea of actually admitting it out loud to you was the scariest thing he'd ever do. Letting himself fall for you was something that took more courage than he would ever care to admit. Because loving you meant he was going against the crown, the expectations, and the future wife that had been chosen for him. He was going against the prophecy that Mo’at had laid before him.

As he slowed near the familiar trees and mangled brush, it felt as if the Great Mother had another plan for him all along. Almost as if she had brought you back for him and him alone. There was a great plan, a future that would be laid out before him and he felt that Eywa was promising that you would be the one by his side.

He held his breath as he pushed the brush aside and stepped swiftly through the forest spotting you from beneath the trees. You stood near the base of the river, arms wrapped around yourself as you stared forward at the water, tracing the ripples with your eyes. Lips pursed, you shifted from side to side seemingly lost in your thoughts, so much so you didn’t hear his approaching steps. Neteyam stopped just a few feet away, allowing himself a few seconds to admire you, your side profile, and the way your hair fell effortlessly across your shoulders. The top half was pulled back out of your face and laced together in a small braid, leaving a few pieces to frame your face. Your smooth skin reflected the sheer lights of the water and he couldn’t help but trace the slope of your nose and the slight purse in your lips.

He hadn’t been this close to you since the night among the mauve tendrils, the night among the Tree of Souls where you collapsed in his arms. Where he had bared every pain that was painted across his soul to you. He could still picture the way your face was dosed with salty tears, aching and begging for him to understand. I trusted you. His pained words still echoed in his ears now but it seemed things had changed so much since that fateful night a week ago.

It was as if you were the one now who felt betrayed, heart twisting at the thought of him being with someone else. Entirely the same way he had felt when he had found out Lo’ak had asked you to be his mate. Except for the way you stared into the empty river, gaze void of any warmth he knew somehow you were feeling far worse than even he had.

Neteyam had known what it felt like to feel the one slipping through his grasp to another, he knew what it was like to feel so betrayed and heartbroken at the way reality messed with your perception. He had felt the wounds strike his being and somehow even with knowing all of that, he had bestowed it on you. A feeling he hadn’t wished to befall anyone had been passed off to you and the guilt was choking him.

A click of your tongue filtered in through his ears and as he took a brief step forward, your body turned in his direction. Instantly, you froze, surprised to find him standing there, eyes locked on you in the dark. His gaze shamelessly traced the shape of your body and you found yourself in silence watching him as he did so. Your heart had picked up in your chest as a heat of some sort started to pool in the base of your stomach due to how delicately it felt like he was tracing your skin. You hadn’t heard him approach and now to have him standing there before you after so long, it had filled you with so many emotions. So much love and so much pain as he was there in front of you, soon to belong to someone else.

He watched the glass form across your eyes as the pained expression filtered across your features. The obvious furrow of your brows and the twitch of your lips held his attention away from your smooth exposed skin. You were glued to your spot, the frustration pricking at the nerves of your body, filling you with a numbing rage at the sight of him. You had craved it for a week, needed it with every fiber of your being to see and talk to him. Days ago you needed him to promise you and reassure you that there was nothing to worry about. That Tsmandi would not be his and he would not be hers, but he never came. He never let those reassurances leave his tongue and now somehow the sight of him in the only spot that brought you tranquility felt poisonous. As if it all had become toxic.

You turned away from him then, arms tightening around your waist as you found solace in the appearance of the blue water rather than his gold eyes. A lump had formed in your throat and the painful bob of it left you trying to conceal the tears that were starting to well in your eyes. Tears of anger as he stepped closer, his gaze burning holes into the side of your head. His shoulder brushed yours softly as he let his stare drift from the side of your pinched face to the river before him, the sound of the waterfall sinking into his ears.

With his hands clasped behind his back, he smiled softly as he thought back to that night all those months ago when you sat at the bank underneath the stars for the first time. It was the first time he had ever told someone about the nightmares he barred on his back as well as the first time he had let himself acknowledge his feelings for you.

It felt as if the two of you had grown so much since then, aged at least five years instead of just the one. Somehow in a course of almost a year, he was no longer that delirious young boy, desperate for his father’s approval. No, he had become a strong warrior, skin coated in the toughest armor and a future of reign in his grasp. He felt like a true man as he stood next to you, a woman he wished to give his entire self to. He felt honorable and worthy and powerful. That was how you made him feel even when you wished to recoil from him, even when you wished to run and let the fear guide you away deep into the forest.

“It’s seemed like we have lived an entire life since the first time I brought you here,” he said suddenly, stare flickering back over to you, satisfied in the way your ears twitched and you turned your head slightly to him, his words practically guiding you back to him. “We were both so young and naive that night. It was the first time I felt you break through my resolve. It was then that I knew I was beginning to feel something for the girl who appeared in the forest. It was like you were a gift from Eywa herself.”

Your brows furrowed, lips forming into a frown as you looked over at him, to meet his eyes. The look in them took you by surprise and suddenly you found the anger ravaging you as you met his soft gaze. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me. It isn’t fair of you.”

He ignored your reply as well as the annoyance that dripped from your lips, “It was like you were sent here to save me.”

His hand dropped to his side and examined your expression as his pinky brushed delicately across the skin of your outer thigh, just below your hip bone. You sucked in a breath past your teeth and felt your hands tense around your body at the feeling of his warm touch and the satisfied smirk that appeared on his lips. A pang appeared in your chest and you felt the lump in your throat get larger. You glanced down at his hand as it glided across your hip bone again, while his tall looming body seemed to envelop your senses completely.

You granted yourself a moment to divulge in the feeling, to let it shoot to your core and the desire you felt for the man before you, the undesirable, the unattainable. But then you felt your body's hotness turn to rage as he took another step closer to you, his eyes half-lidded and scanning your face. You shook your head and found yourself hissing at him, your hand roughly pushing his away.

“Ftang (stop)!” you demanded, the warning in your voice void of any warmth as your eyes narrowed in his direction, a pained huff following from your parted lips, “What are you doing, Neteyam? Why are you here?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don't,” you said, sticking your hand out to keep him an arm's length away. If you were going to have a conversation you needed to have a clear mind to do it and you couldn't have a clear mind with him hovering over you.

“What, you don’t have some dinner or meeting tonight with your future wife to talk about wedding logistics?”

“No,” he said simply, refusing to step back even with your threatening gaze.

“What do you mean, no? You are to be married, yes?” you asked, suddenly confused as it was all the village had been able to talk about for the past week. It was the only topic of importance other than the sky people and the intended doom that would soon fall upon the land.

“I don’t wish to marry any woman unless it’s you,” he admitted, reaching up so his fingers ghost over your cheek. He brushed a piece of hair that was framing your face back behind your ear and you hated the flush that appeared on your face. He smiled as his eyes flickered down to your lips still parted in confusion.

His words hit you in the chest like a ton of bricks, words you had only ever thought you would have heard in your dreams. They were all you had wanted since the night he had come to you in the healing tent since he had cupped your cheek and whispered the very confession that had confirmed every feeling he had had.

He had barred his soul and for the last week, you had been left in the dust, left to contemplate your future before you. You watched him as he entertained the idea of mating with the chosen women for him, as he contemplated it to please the village and the people. You had been left in a spiral of pain wrenching and pulling at every will of yours to live while he had been squaring away every duty asked of him.

You shook your head, feeling the cringe of your lips as you reached up and shoved his hand away from you. You stepped back, lips quivering slightly as your eyes stared daggers into his, “No.”

“Yes,” he replied, trying to reach out for you again, confused by your sudden need to recoil from him.

“No,” you took another step back away from him, the twist of your lips matching the way your heart felt in your chest, “Ftang nga (stop that)! You’re being mean, Neteyam.”

His brows furrowed, standing tall as the small quiver of your lips held his attention, “What, how am I—”

“I waited for you,” you uttered indignantly, as the pained look in your eyes seemed to amplify, “For days, I waited. Waited for you to come to me and say something, anything. All I needed was some reassurance, hear something that confirmed I hadn’t wasted my time on you.”

“Y/N—”

His heart ached at your words and his guilt seemed to intensify as you only wished to push him away even further for the pain he had caused you. After everything, you felt so disgusted and hurt by the distance he had put between the two of you. He had been so caught up with his father, with planning for the attack, that he hadn’t even spared a single moment for you. A moment to express his feelings and reassure the anxieties that had been preying on your innocence for far too long.

“They announced your courtship with Ms. Tsmandi Te Nätäkx Ayitul’ite, the next Tsahik. I waited and you still didn’t come. You let me believe that you were going to marry her, that you once again would choose your duties over me. I waited for you,” you repeated, eyes welling torturously with tears as your breath was ripped from your throat.

His shoulders fell slightly, as the single phrase I waited for you seemed to hold just as much weight as your previous admission. The way I feel about you is consuming. Except where that one had actively repaired every damage he had ever felt like a precious oath, this one brought out nothing but dread in him.

As if those four words were a farewell and you would soon disappear from his sight, back into the forest where you had come from. Like the words were a confirmation that he was incapable of fixing what he had done, the hurt he had caused. He was standing before you offering to throw every caution to the wind, offering to risk it all; his reputation, his reign, his expectations, for you. It took him too long to have realized it but now that he had, a silent prayer was cast across his heart that it wouldn’t be too late.

“Tsap’alute si (I’m sorry),” he professed anguished as you seemed to only be pulling away from him, “I shouldn’t have kept you waiting. I should have come to you, talked to you, and told you everything that has been on my mind since the night in the healing tent. I was scared Y/N. I am still so fucking scared. I almost lost you. You collapsed in my arms, in my fucking arms and I—I can’t. I can’t bear the thought of it, especially now with the sky people closing in.”

“It’s not something you can guarantee, Neteyam,” you said, softly, staring intently up at him and the sudden vulnerability that was plastered across his features, “You can’t assure you’re going to protect me through this. This war is unpredictable and your protection can’t be promised.”

“It has to be,” he mumbled out, face pinched together and hand hung in the air, desperately trying to reach out to you, “Y/N, not even for a second, was I considering marrying Tsmandi. You need to know that. This week it was never my intention to blindside you or keep the whole thing from you. I never thought about it even if it were my duty. I couldn’t, not when my heart solely belongs to you."

“Neteyam,” his name fell from your tongue breathlessly but no other words followed.

“It’s always been you. From the moment I saw you in this very forest, cowering behind my baby sister as no more than a stranger.”

You shuddered, every desperation and need for him evident in the way you seemed to lean closer as if his words were the secret password to your being. Like he could put you back together simply by the way he looked at you alone and his sweet words. You stared up at him, so close to offering him what was left of the dying organ in your chest.

It was a lost hope and even as it anatomically was healthy enough, beating away in your chest, the phantom pain was strong and killing every will you had left. This man had played with your feelings, spun you around on his finger as he tried to decide whether he wanted you. You had stood by, letting his control over your feelings be something he could hold over you.

Somehow even with what he had put you through, the long excruciating week of tears and the fears of the unknown, you found yourself holding onto every single word he professed. You were giving in and the thought terrified you. It terrified you that somehow he would be convinced to forget about you, to leave you once again, in favor of his throne and the means of doing what was expected of him. You were cautious, cautious as you offered him everything you had left of yourself.

“You aren’t being fair,” you professed, your heart rate so loud it echoed in your ears as every last conscientious thought seemed to be escaping from you. Like at any moment you would be out of excuses and let him graciously take you.

“No, but I am not lying about how I feel either. I never have. Oel ngati kamele (I see you).”

Those three words seemed to bring you to reality. They hit you so hard, you felt you were back in that tent just before the consciousness transfer. He repeated them just as earnestly and desperately, needing you to believe him. Needing you to say it back as if his sanity depended on it. Like the thought of you denying him would break him entirely.

Somehow though at the sound of them in your ears, you felt nothing. The meaning was gone and instead, you were left with an ache from the absence of the feeling his words once brought you. At that moment, you had let the fear take over and steer you away from the same desperation you were feeling as he was. For so long you had tiptoed around one another, had hurt each other in favor of protecting yourselves.

Now with all the possibilities there just at the tips of your fingers, you felt the fear rush through your veins like ice water. Coldness and spite were all you could feel then for a brief moment as you thought back to the night among the Tree of Souls. How you had poured everything out to him and he turned his back on you as if it was the easiest thing. He looked down at you with your chest open and exposed, and spat in your face. He had torn you to pieces shamelessly and you could still remember it evidently.

He looked as you had that night, staring down at you with the same look you once had. He was offering you everything, scarily so, a dire need for you to accept him. To say yes. Your hold on him was just as strong as his and this time he didn’t hide it. He didn’t hide his need for you. His need that filled his entire body with shock waves and desirous fantasies. His need to combine his soul with yours for the rest of time, so that you would never be apart again. He didn’t hide how much he needed you, how much he needed your kiss to grant him life.

It was all there within his eyes, his gold wide eyes, speckled with every true feeling he had. You felt petty then as you stared up at him hoping to fill him with just as much dejection as he had to you.

“You aren’t capable of seeing.”

Sometimes, it just wasn’t enough. That’s how you felt like sometimes there weren’t enough words in the world to heal every wound. It was evident by the angry tear that slipped past your water line. It slid down your cheek, your skin still smooth and bright under the luminescence of the forest. He followed it as it settled in the corner of your lips.

It was harsh. Cruel even to deny both of you this. The possibility of finally being together, but your pride was bent too much and somehow you just couldn’t put the hurt you felt aside — not after everything. You couldn’t.

The exhale from his lips was entirely broken, as if you had stolen his last remaining breath from his lungs. He stared at you utterly confused and hurt, not understanding that his ignorance this past week had caused you so much pain. So much that you would walk away from him completely. Suddenly the weight had returned, the weight of a broken heart. Somehow it was far worse than any weight he had felt before. He finally saw that all he wanted was you, and the thought of losing you completely to his stupidity was maddening.

You turned from him, shaking your head slightly as if you couldn’t look at him for another moment longer. One more glance was sent to the water, the river filled with far too many memories, memories of him and you. You knew then that it didn’t matter how much you loved him, you wouldn’t be a woman who groveled, or who would beg for him.

There wasn’t a word or anything that he could say that would stop you from walking away.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Except there was that.

You felt your breath get lodged in your throat, your steps halting from where you stood a few feet away. Fingers twitching at your sides, you found your eyes locked forward at the darkness of the forest as shock drenched your body. Lips slightly parted, you felt your heart stop completely in your chest at the sound of those three words escaping his lips. Words you never expected him to know let alone say.

Somehow they felt heavier than I see you. They spoke to the human you once were and they felt heavier on your being and your consciousness. They held so much more meaning and feeling to you and somehow you found they had stopped all of your efforts to leave. You closed your eyes for a moment.

He had you.

With a strangled cry on your tongue, you suddenly turned slowly to face him, knowing he controlled every fiber of your being. You were a puppet on strings and he was the sole puppet master.

He stood by the bank, chest puffed out, eyes desperately trying to find yours. They quickly traced your tears and swollen lips as every honest look about him swelled across his face. He wouldn’t let you go, you knew that. After everything, he couldn’t but at that moment you wished he would set you free more than anything. Set you free from the pain that panged you so profoundly. Because it would be far easier than ever to grant either of you this. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan owned you and he held your heart in between his palms and the thought terrified you.

You shook your head, lips quivering as he slowly approached you each step sending your senses in over drive, “No. Neteyam, no.”

He stopped in front of you and he saw it then with your true feelings reflected in your tears. You were scared, absolutely terrified. The thought to feel so consumed by someone was scaring you away from him and he understood it. Stood there beneath the stars, he understood it completely. Because god forbid you give yourselves to each other and somehow this war destroys it. Somehow one of you loses the other, left to wither and collapse under the weight of grief. Eywa forbid one of you is returned to her far sooner than expected.

He felt his own tears fill his eyes as he reached out, hands taking your arms softly. Hesitant for a moment, he found his stare flickering up at the sight of something out of the corner of his eye. Uncertainty plagued his mind then, only wanting what was best for you and for him. As he peered up though, he felt his chest tighten unexpectedly at the sight of an atokirina floating right above his head, emitting a soft glow. He felt his stomach clench and then relax by the sign it brought. Suddenly then, he had never been more sure in his life.

“I’m in love with you,” his eyes fell back down to you and a soft smile appeared across his lips as he leaned closer, “I know I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you. Not after how I have treated you all this time.”

You felt a sob fall from your tongue as all reserves seemed to crumble before you at his feet. I’m in love with you pushing every single insecurity you felt away. It was branded across his eyes and made your whole body feel as if it was going to collapse in his arms. It was the clearest he had ever been and it had you falling apart at the seams.

Sometimes, it just wasn’t enough. Words weren't enough but those were. To you, those words were everything and more.

It didn’t matter then to you that you were terrified of losing him or that he was promised to another woman. It didn’t matter that he was supposed to be Olo’eyktan and all of these expectations hung heavily on his shoulders. None of it mattered anymore that every sign had pointed to the two of you not being able to be together because he was in love with you. He was in love with you and Eywa seemed to have blessed the match willingly. She had brought you back for a reason, for this, for him.

Let him be soft

Let him be mine.

His hand drifted up until it cupped the side of your face, it overwhelming you as he cradled you softly. His thumb traced your jaw so carefully as his eyes bore straight into your soul.

“From the moment you got here, I was condescending, rude, too absorbed in myself, and still am. I tried so hard to deny what I felt for you, for months, and this last week I found myself still trying to do that. I have been so blind and so fucking stupid. Not only was I focused on the fact that I almost lost you but the impending war. I have been awful and confusing. I admit that I have done so many things, so many horrible things, but here I am, begging you to love me anyway.”

His voice broke then, his thumb moving along your jaw to your temple and the tear stains that were stuck along your skin. His heart ached for you then and he knew that he wouldn’t go on if it meant you couldn’t be his mate. He needed you like he needed air and the thought of living another day without you was murderous.

“I am no perfect solider. I am flawed and am more difficult than I would ever like to admit, but I am a man who desperately loves you,” he whispered, leaning closer, his intense stare devouring you whole, “I am offering you everything, everything I have. I have done so many terrible things, I know that. But please, just tell me that despite it all you love me.”

His other hand which was gently wrapped around your arm slipped to your waist. As his warm fingertips pressed along your skin, you felt an exhale escape from your parted lips. Your body shuddered, out of instinct, and you leaned closer to him enough that his chest was almost pressed firmly against yours. At his lingering touch, you felt the warmth in your stomach begin to pool more just as another small breath escaped from your mouth.

His hand flattened against your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. Your entire body felt hot then as your eyes flickered shamelessly from his dilated pupils to his parted lips. Lips that had been on your mind every night for months. Lips that you had wished would claim yours day after day, night after night.

Tell me you love me.

You gasped at the feeling of his heart beating profusely in his chest, clashing with your own. Your eyes then snapped up to his wide ones as he stared down at you. He was waiting for what you would say next, waiting for what you would do next. The desperation was evident, interlaced with the desire that coated his golden orbs. His golden orbs that were drenched in reflections of the forest almost as if you were back between the mauve tendrils.

The sight of an atokirina floating over his shoulder made you think that maybe you were, that you had traveled there. Like Neteyam wasn’t really there in front of you, saying all of these things. This was all just a figment of your imagination and would be nothing but dust by the morning. It was real though, as real as the Great Mother herself. All evident by the pull of your stomach and the need that was brewing at the base of your stomach for the man before you.

You always wanted him, always wished to be claimed by him and no one else, and now here he was before you, begging, asking. All while Eywa approved of it herself. Your eyes flickered back over to his face, as the pressure within your stomach began to appear in the form of a throb in between your thighs.

His tongue swiped along his bottom lip and you found yourself following the movement with your eyes, wishing it could be replaced with your own. You couldn’t deny the feelings that were overtaking you, or the incessant need to confirm them with action. You loved him, of course, you did and it was something you wouldn’t be able to deny any longer.

With a quiet whisper, your eyes found his and all want to deny him seemed to melt from your body, “I can not lie to you.”

His ears perked up at your words and he found his eyes tracing the way your features had visibly softened, your own eyes reflecting all the same things his was. Desire. Need… Love. He tilted his head curiously, his bottom lip finding a place in between his teeth as the anticipation began to eat away at him.

You sighed, hand lifting from your side to press along his chest, right where his heart sat. He inhaled at the feeling as a small smile appeared across your lips, “There is no one else who has ever made me feel as you do and there never will be. It's you, Neteyam, always.”

Your eyes softened, taking in the way he smiled down at you, a low chuckle falling from his lips in relief at your words. You smiled too then as he leaned closer, hand still firmly wrapped around your jaw. You felt your breath hitch again in your throat as his stare flickered down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

His mouth parted softly as his thumb drifted to your lips, and your thighs involuntarily clenched as he traced your upper lip and along your cupid’s bow. A breathy gasp was ripped from you as he dragged the pad of his thumb down across your bottom lip, satisfied with the way it bounced back into place.

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slowly trailed down away from your face. Palm ghosting over your neck, his thumb moved from your chin down across your pulse point. He felt himself stir at the sight of your wet parted lips and the way your lashes brushed along the tops of your cheeks. He couldn’t stop himself then as his hand firmly took a hold of your neck and pulled you forward.

His lips gently found yours and for a second you could barely register the pressure. It was so soft, delicate as if he was trying to savor the first touch. You were the first to move your lips against his and even as you did, it was tender and slow, so different from the way he was clutching onto your neck.

His lips moved effortlessly against yours and you felt yourself practically melting in his arms, legs close to buckling beneath you if it weren’t for the stronghold he had around your back. His lips were soft, slightly parted, teasing with an underlying sense that was almost demanding.

A whimper escaped from your mouth and at the sound, he pressed his lips harder against your own. His hand tightened around your neck then, and at the feeling of his thumb pressed firmly against your pulse, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting your head lull back slightly, mouth parting at the action.

The urgency built up just as the throbbing in between your legs had. Just as the warmth seemed to spread across your entire body like firecrackers. His tongue molded with yours and at the feeling of it engulfing yours, you couldn’t help but arch your back into his.

Your hands found a place along his shoulders, fingernails brushing against his skin with ease. With a flick of his tongue, your hands dug into his back and it pulled a groan from the back of his throat. At the sound, you couldn’t help but buck your hips forward into his, desperate to feel anything, everything.

Feeling you struggling to catch your breath, his teeth took a firm hold around your lower lip and pulled back out of the kiss, releasing it with a pop. All while his eyes traced the way some of his saliva pooled along your lower lip. He shifted on his heels as he took notice of how puffy and red they were as well as how dilated your eyes suddenly appeared. He knew then there was nothing he wanted more than to have this view for the rest of his life, to be the one who pushed you this close to the edge, to have complete and utter control over every part of your body.

Hand leaving your neck, he reached behind himself to take a hold of his queue. He reveled in the way your eyes widened slightly as he brought it around his shoulder. His other hand that still had a firm hold around your hip tightened, his thumb brushing along the string of your bottoms. You shifted under the touch, breath completely stolen from your throat. You shook your head slightly, unsure at that moment as Neteyam stared down at you, his queue offered out to you.

“I have always wanted you Y/N. Always,” he whispered lowly, finger twisting around the string of your bottoms as his eyes scanned your face with the utmost softness he could muster, “There is no one else I would want by my side.”

Your heart clenched in sync with your thighs and suddenly there was nothing left to say, no other excuse to be had. He already had every part of you including the aching organ in between your ribs. What else was there left to spare?

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan was asking you to be his mate and there weren’t enough reasons to stop you, not while he stared down at you like that with his hands touching you the way they were. You were putty under his touch and with your entire being aching to give him what was left of you, you grabbed your queue from your back and pulled it forward. You held your breath as you stared between them, their pink nerve endings twitching in the air.

Slowly, you watched as he extended his out further towards you and with the most docile touch connected his with yours. As they firmly wrapped around one another, you felt all air be stolen from your lungs and every sensation in your body be exemplified. Tsaheylu. Your whole body suddenly collapsed forward as your eyes widened, pupils growing in size.

Staring forward at Neteyam, you watched as his own eyes dilated and his entire body jolted forward, arms tightening around you. His forehead fell to yours and for a moment you both just stood there wrapped up in the other’s arms, soft pants echoing off the forest trees. It was like you had been awakened and all you could focus on was the erratic beat of his heart in his chest and the gasping breath of his lungs You could feel it to your very core and it only heightened every sensation and desire you had.

At the sight of his glistening lips and blown-out pupils, the ache in you intensified from the extra stimulation. He groaned slightly as your hips met his again and he couldn’t help but let his lips connect with your jaw. His head dipped, lips tracing the skin from your jaw to your neck with his tongue.

Both of his large palms gripped tightly at your hips, trying to pull you as close as he could just as his teeth poked at the surface of your skin. Finding the pulse in your neck, he bit down slightly and you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the sudden sensation that went straight to your core. It was like every nerve ending had been lit on fire from Tsaheylu and you wished to never disconnect from him again.

His arms were wrapped strongly around your body and you found yourself moaning out his name as his fingers traced over your hip bones, firmly enough to hopefully leave a mark. “Neteyam…”

As his lips found your collarbone, his hands took a hold of your thighs and pulled them up and around his hips. A small noise escaped your mouth at the sudden feeling of your feet coming off the ground but it was replaced then by a moan at the feeling of his core meeting yours. The newly added pressure had you aching in his arms, as if he wouldn’t do something soon you would actually die.

His lips trailed up and claimed yours again and instantly as his tongue molded to yours again, he fell down to his knees, them hitting the ground harshly. His hands were still firmly gripped around your thighs as your knees slid to the grass on either side of his. Sat on top of him, you felt the feeling in your stomach tighten slightly. He was hard under you, straining against his bottoms.

“Yawne (my beloved), look at you,” he said lowly, staring up at you, his eyes half-lidded and full of need, “I think this is where you were meant to belong.”

With his hands wrapped around either one of your legs, he pushed you off of him slightly and then onto the ground. You felt your back arch slightly at the feeling of it meeting the cool grass. He crawled over you and you felt your legs tighten from around him as his body hovered over yours. With his arms on either side of your head, you were unable to stop your gawking at the sight of him looking so huge and strong on top of you. Even in the darkness, you were able to see every line and tautness of his muscles. It was like he was sculpted by the gods themselves and all you could think about was how you desperately wished for him to overpower you.

His lips found your collarbone again and then slowly as if he was taking his time, planning to use every minute of darkness you two had, they trailed down your chest. You arched into him again as his breath fanned across your breasts through the thin material of your top. With open-mouth kisses, his lips were followed by his tongue as they left a trail of wetness between your breasts all the way down your stomach. They stopped right above the line of your bottoms, right above where you ached for him most.

He glanced up at you and smirked as his hands pushed your knees apart further. You begged then, shamefully, “Neteyam, please.”

Teasingly, his hand trailed down the outside of your thigh before firmly wrapping around your knee. He lifted it up onto his shoulder and his lips found the inside of your thigh then. Your body tensed and then relaxed as he began to trace his lips up the side of your leg.

With each inch he got higher, you felt the anticipation flooding your system and you couldn’t help but twitch with impatience. A moan slipped past your lips as his tongue flattened across the inside of your thigh only a few inches from your soaked bottoms. Mouth falling away from your skin, he glanced up at you through his eyelashes and grinned smugly at the want in your eyes. With your leg still balanced across his shoulder, he reached up, his fingers curling around the string of your bottoms. His eyes never left yours as he gave them a gentle tug. They loosened around your frame.

Your hands tightened at your sides as you felt them fall away from your body and discarded off to the side. He groaned loudly as his eyes traced down your frame and before you knew it he was leaning in, mouth finding your inner thigh again. They trailed up slowly until he was face to face with your lower half, bare and aching for him.

His hand left your hip, fingers slipping in between your legs to part your split. At the feeling of his fingers, your breath hitched and then a second later you felt his mouth connect with you. His tongue found your clit in a matter of seconds and you couldn’t stop the twitch that ripped through your body at the skillful flick he sent to it. His other hand reached up to push your body back to the ground just as he flattened his tongue against the bundle of nerves.

Your head tilted back at the feeling while a whimper was ripped clean from the back of your throat. He chuckles and the sound vibrates through your entire body. His middle and ring fingers then slip in with ease and you can’t help but tense under him with the newfound stretch. He waited a moment, for your breath to even out and for the uncomfortable pull to fade. After a few seconds, he dove in like a starved man, his lips wrapping firmly around your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body. A string of curse words falls from your lips like a symphony and it only fuels the man below you more.

His fingers start to move, creating their own pace dragging along your walls as the slickness only seemed to increase in between your legs. His tongue poked and prodded at every inch of skin he could find. His pace quickened and it all was starting to become too much as anywhere his fingers didn’t reach his tongue did. It moved up and down, tasting every part of you.

His name was the only thing you could find yourself saying as his fingers suddenly curled up inside of you. Your entire body jolted, heat appearing across your skin in dabs of sweat as your heart rattled away in your chest feeling like it could explode at all the pleasure being pulled from your body.

“Neteyam,” you found yourself calling out as the assault only seemed to continue, the overwhelmingness of it almost too much on your body.

He ignored you as his lips firmly sealed around your clit again, tongue going to work, as his fingers curled again. The heat rushed across your entire body straight up to your face and your hips pushed up into his hand with your back continuously arched into the air. Your heel dug into the back of his shoulder at the feeling of his tongue again. He sucked at your fluids like juice just as your thighs tightened around his shoulders. With his hand wrapped firmly around your knee, he lifts your thigh higher and your jaw drops open in shock. No sounds could be formed then as the spring in your stomach began to tighten.

You realized then what was soon to happen as it felt like he was sucking every last innocence out of your body, every last drop claiming you as his. He groaned as his pace somehow got faster. You clench your eyes shut just as his fingers hit the point deep inside of you. His grip on you was bruising as his tongue sucked and flicked and took everything you had to offer him. You were squirming at that point unable to stop the pulsing that was emitting from deep inside of you. Your chest was rising and falling so quickly that you felt as if you couldn’t catch your breath.

You pleaded for him to not stop and just like he would grant you this for the rest of his life, his fingers curled into you one more time and you felt the coil deep within your stomach snap, taking the rest of your body with it. He ripped the feeling straight out of your body and pulled the loudest cry from you with it. Your voice cracked as he continued pushing his fingers up in you, tongue not moving from where they were clasped around your clit. Your leg shook from where it hung off his shoulder as your vision blurred, expelling tears from the inner corners. Body collapsing onto the ground, he waited a moment, fingers still in your body and tongue pressed to your core, before he pulled away.

Your ragged breaths filled his ears and he couldn’t help but smile as your leg slipped down from around him. He pulled his fingers from you and you winced slightly at the sudden feeling, your lower half tightening around nothing.

As your eyes fluttered open again, you stared at him as he leaned up over you on his knees. Your spent body being imprinted on his mind. Wiping at his mouth with his forearm, he licked his lips, the taste of you still coated across his tongue. At the sight of his glistening lips and narrowed eyes, the heat appeared again in seconds.

His lips sloppily collide with yours and as if he hadn’t already ripped it out of you once, you felt your chest arch into his. His tongue pressed along yours and you shivered at the way he tasted, like you. With the remnants of your actions splayed between your thighs across your skin, you felt the wetness appear again. He smiled at the feeling of your body against his and groaned as his hand drifted down in between your bodies to his own bottoms. Your nails dug desperately into his back and his hips jolted into yours in surprise. Fingers pulling at the band of his bottoms, he yanked them from his body. Your breath hitched again, the sixth time since he first had touched you as you felt his hardness brush against your core.

He hissed at the feeling and for a moment his head collapsed into your neck, almost painfully. You whispered his name and it brought his gaze back to you. He felt his entire life flash before his eyes with the sight of you below him. Irrevocably you were finally his, you were there, and you were alive. You were his.

It wasn’t another late-night fantasy where his hands had wandered in between his legs. He blinked and you were really there. You were alive and he couldn’t stop his hand from drifting up to your neck again, desperately craving the gentle flutter of your pulse. Hand gripping tightly around your throat, he watched with a furrowed gaze your reaction as his tip pressed into your entrance, prodding slowly.

Without a warning, he pushed in, bottoming out quickly. You cried out again, chest arching up into his as he hissed at the involuntary tightness around his dick. His head tilted back for a moment, trying to memorize the feeling of you squeezing so beautifully around his length, your name falling from his parted lips in praise.

After a moment, his eyes fluttered open again as spews of love sputtered from his lips. His hands reached for yours at your sides and you gasped at the way he pushed them up above your head, his fingers lacing in between yours. As you squeezed around him again, he swore, deciding then to pull out and slam back into you.

“Oh, fuck,” he exhaled then as he did it again, the pleasure flooding his system, “Yeah, that’s it.”

That heat began to pool again instantly as one of his hands slipped from yours down in between your bodies. His thumb found your clit. It was still swollen from the effects of his tongue, and without a second to waste he began to build up a pace. His hips rammed into yours, harshly sending your back into the ground as your legs wrapped up around his waist.

It all was building up again and you felt your head lull to the side suddenly overstimulated. It wouldn’t take long this time as it all was flooding your system; his grunts, the pleasure, the feeling of his body wrapped around yours strongly. He groaned out as you clenched around his dick again, you already fast approaching the edge. He rammed up into you harder as his hand tightly held yours.

“It couldn’t have been anyone else, Y/N. It’s always been you. You’re meant to be my future wife, my Tsahik, my mate,” he mumbled lowly as his pace began to falter quickly, “Only you.”

You hummed then, “My Olo’eyktan.”

His eyes rolled slightly at the title, it sounding so formal across your tongue and he couldn’t help but speed up further. He sent another and then another thrust straight into you, as his thumb continued throwing circles into your bundle of nerves.

Somehow it all had led you here, the six months of training, him starting off by disliking you, the arguments, the issues. All of it led to this with you splayed beneath him, being fully claimed as his. You let the noises fall freely from your swollen lips as all the tension and the pain seemed to fade away.

Neteyam’s grunts filled your ears as his palm tightened around your throat once and then twice. The pressure had you squeezing around him, it bringing you to that point quickly. He slid in so easily and quickly as your juices coated your inner thighs. His thumb didn’t stop and before you could even realize it, that spring in your stomach was tightening and then breaking completely.

Your whole body erupted into flames as a cry fell from your lips, it was so loud and so startling. You pulsed around Neteyam as he pulled out and slammed back into you, the sudden flutter of your walls, pulling a groan out of his throat. He couldn’t hold on much longer with the constant clenching around his cock. His eyes squeezed shut then as his hand moved away from your clit to dig into the skin of your hips. It was bruising as he gave one more pump before his whole entire body stilled, tensing above you.

You exhaled suddenly at the feeling of him shooting up inside you, followed by a few more thrusts before he was pulling out completely. The lost feeling of him was surprising as the sound of his gasps filtered in through your ears. Chest meeting his, your face was flushed with color at the sudden realization.

You were mated for life.

Reaching up, you cupped his face, practically asking him to open his eyes to coat your vision in gold and specks of green. With a gentle exhale, they snapped open and met yours. An exhausted smile appeared across his lips as your thumb traced delicately along his jaw.

You were overwhelmed at that moment by it all; the fact that you were laying in your spot with the future Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya, with no promise of the days ahead. You felt everything as well as the pulse in his body from the bond of your souls.

You were one, forever and the only thing you could think to say at that moment was, “I love you too.”

The Na’vi say that every person is born twice.

It is the greatest rebirth ever granted to a person. A mere moment of acceptance, of acknowledgment, a promise that no matter what, you have a place among the people forever. There is a greatness that comes from it; the connection that the people have for one another, the power they emit gracefully.

The Na’vi were more than just a tiny sliver of humanity you had fallen upon. It had become your life, your existence, your sole purpose in life. Grace Augustine had once seen that in the Omatikaya, she saw them as her destiny. Then there was dream walker Jake Sully. He led the clan to victory against the sky people and now suddenly sat upon your Ikran, queue wrapped firmly within its, dread once again was felt in the air. A moment of the unknown presented to all.

Success was never guaranteed. Life was never guaranteed, but there were more important things than the need to breathe. Justice. Perseverance. Triumph.

All of that had masked over the necessity of a long life, of years to come because why promise life if there was a chance it would be dull and overtaken by enemies. Why have life if it is only filled with smoke-clouded air, and living in fear? So many had suffered at the hands of the sky people, and so many losses had been wasted at their feet. Their greediness overtook the humanity that once plagued their hearts.

It was no way to live, captive in your own world.

“Look alive, people, we got metal in the sky,” the Olo’eyktan’s voice filtered in through the transmitter strapped within your ear.

Your body stiffened, glare narrowing at the sky before you.

War was coming. Violence would soon erupt in the world of Pandora once again, after nearly two decades of peace. The Omatikaya people once again led the tide of Na’vi and Ikrans in the sky. Multiple bands of people scattered across the forest, waiting like silent death traps.

This was it.

Taking in a deep breath, you found yourself looking off to the side towards the Olo’eyktan. You looked past Jake and you felt your eyes meet his instantly. The great warrior was already staring at you. The mighty soldier’s golden eyes traced your face with the utmost determination you had ever seen. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan flew upon his Ikran, gun gripped tightly within his palms. Hair braided back out of his face laced with feathers. His face was covered in war paint, dosing his skin in bright colors. The orange and the green stripes were an imprint and you took a few seconds to take in the sole sight of the Toruk Makto’s oldest son. He had become just as he was always meant to.

He was made with gunmetal and veering sharp teeth. He was made to be mighty and strong and fearless. He was a warrior. A soldier. A hero.

He once again was giving everything to the world without a second thought. They needed him as much as they once needed Atlas or Achilles. They needed the great soon-to-be Olo’eyktan so desperately and he gave everything willingly. The world needed his strength, his courage, his blood, and his sweat. Most of all, they needed his heart.

He would give it all for his people, for his home, for you. Because he wasn’t just a mighty warrior but a ruler. A king and a king would sacrifice his entire being for the betterness of everyone else. He flew then powerfully, captivatingly, and even with all the pressures of the world on his shoulders, you knew then he would not falter. He would not collapse under the weight or break under the pressure.

He was stronger than any gunmetal or wooden arrow. He was the chosen one and more than that he was yours. He was your love, your soon-to-be Olo’eyktan, and your mate.

Neteyam’s gaze flickered across your features, skin bathed in bright paint, a glint filling your eyes. He nodded towards you and you felt your body tense unwillingly as the sound of metal blades drifted through the air. You granted him one more look, the sight of him gracing your being with one last fateful glance.

The Na’vi say that every person is born twice.

With the screech of your Ikran in your ears, your gold eyes snapped back to the sky before you, and speckled with the lightest green they locked upon a metal chopper in the distance, and you knew then that it was just the beginning.

author's note: this is the end... i don't know what to do with my life now but i hope all of your angsty hearts can rest now.

one of us taglist is not working the best right now and I have over the limit of people asking to be tagged (it says it's fifty) so, for now, I am just not going to have a taglist because I can't tag everyone and it's taking a lot of work to figure out.

#avatar #avatarimagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #writing #fanfiction #neteyam imagine #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #neteyam fanfiction

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edenesth · 3 months

Text

The Way to His Heart [18]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 17 | Fic Masterlist | Part 19

Despite the blurring of his vision, Seonghwa desperately stumbled towards the entrance of his estate. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. If anyone noticed his severe wound, it would only be a matter of time before you found out too.

That was the last thing he wanted.

He had tried so hard to hide his injury from you, not wanting to cause you any more worry. Perhaps having Yeosang pursuing you wasn't such a bad thing after all. Unlike the general, the prince wouldn't have to leave for war and risk his life. His Highness also wouldn't have the burden of blood on his hands or the constant fear he instilled in you.

Most importantly, the fourth prince wasn't on the brink of death, bleeding out at this very moment. Prince Yeosang could consistently remain by your side, offering a life even more luxurious than this. Though it pained him to think about leaving you to another man's care, Seonghwa convinced himself that this was all for the best.

His gaze locked on his horse, still waiting by the entrance, servants tending to it. He was determined to ride back to the warzone, if he could survive the journey—or anywhere else, for that matter. He understood that you wouldn't be able to bear seeing him in such a state, regardless of the cruel words he'd uttered just moments ago.

That was the kind of angel you were.

From the beginning, he recognised your heart of gold. It was what endeared you to him so deeply; you were unique in that way. Despite the torture your family had subjected you to, he knew you would never wish ill upon them regardless.

This was all the more reason he couldn't allow you to discover his injury. He knew without a doubt that your heart would soften instantly and forgive him for all he had done. He couldn't afford that; he needed you to despise him. Only then would his absence hurt less, and perhaps, it would steer you toward the prince. You deserved far better than anything he could offer. Despite facing his own mortality, nothing frightened him more than the uncertainty of your well-being in the world he was about to depart from, leaving you behind.

"Master, are you departing so soon?" The servant, looking after the horse, was taken aback by his master's abrupt decision to leave. Everyone had anticipated him staying at least a day to resolve matters with the mistress and spend some time together before returning to the war site.

Seonghwa nodded, striving to maintain his composure, "Yes, assist me onto the horse. I'm needed back at the warzone."

Observing the general's slightly pale and sweaty visage, the servant refrained from commenting on it for fear of angering him. Instead, he bowed, "Of course, master."

But before your husband could even mount his horse, the last person he wanted to encounter at that moment called out to him from behind, "Yah, Park Seonghwa! How dare you try and leave without even saying hello?" He froze at Hongjoong's loud voice, a shiver of apprehension running through him as he glanced back to see his old friend, accompanied by Wooyoung, approaching, "Sir, are you really leaving already?"

Goddamnit, so close.

Meanwhile, across the estate, Yunho and Jongho hurried towards the House of Lotus, only to discover you all alone and heartbroken on the ground. The assistant gasped, rushing to help you up, "Mistress! Are you alright? Where's the general?"

Gazing up at him with tears streaking your cheeks, your heart ached at the mention of Seonghwa. Noticing the physician beside Jongho, eyes darting around urgently, you frowned in confusion, "He left not long ago... What's happening? What's wrong?"

You had remained motionless since your husband's departure, sprawled on the ground with tears streaming down your face as you struggled to comprehend the sudden change in his behaviour. Why was he treating you like this? Could there be any truth to his harsh words? Had he already grown tired of you? Just when you thought your anguish couldn't intensify, the anxiety evident on the assistant's and doctor's faces only heightened your dread.

"He left?! I'm sorry, mistress! There's no time to explain. Here, read this, and you'll understand." Jongho exclaimed urgently. Yunho dashed out as soon as he heard your words, prompting the younger man to swiftly shove a crumpled piece of paper into your hands before hurrying after the physician.

As you hastily wiped your tears, your trembling fingers unfolded the crumpled paper to reveal a letter from General Officer Song Mingi addressed to the doctor. Your heart sank to your stomach as you read the hurriedly written words.

'Physician Jung, I hope this letter finds you swiftly, for it bears urgent news concerning General Park. In the recent battle with the enemy forces, he sustained a grave injury inflicted by a weapon laced with viper venom. Upon discovering the nature of the toxin, we immediately recognised the severity of the situation. The venom acts swiftly and ruthlessly, spreading its deadly effects throughout the body if not treated promptly. Time is of the essence. I implore you to attend to the general without delay.'

Letting out a shaky exhale, the letter slipped from your trembling fingers and fell to the ground, the weight of its contents settling heavily in your chest. Every word echoed in your mind, painting a vivid picture of Seonghwa's dire situation. It felt as if the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place, revealing a truth you hadn't dared to consider before. Had he been in immense pain this entire time?

The thought sent a chill down your spine.

Was it possible that your husband's sudden shift in behaviour, his departure, and harsh words, were all a desperate attempt to protect you from the truth? Was he afraid to burden you with the knowledge of his injury, to face your worry and concern?

Park Seonghwa, you bloody idiot.

Your heart ached at the possibility. Despite the hurtful words he said to you, a wave of empathy washed over you, mingling with the fear and uncertainty swirling within.

With determination fueling every step, you left your quarters in search of the general, resolved to stand by him regardless of the obstacles ahead. Your love for him was unwavering, and you were prepared to fight for him with every fibre of your being. He was mistaken if he thought his attempts to push you away would succeed. You refused to leave his side without a fight.

As you arrived in the main courtyard, your heart lurched at the sight before you. Jongho and Wooyoung were scrambling to hold up your husband, who appeared unconscious, while Hongjoong and Yunho guided them past you, heading towards what you presumed to be Seonghwa's private quarters. Their apologetic glances only added to your distress as you stepped aside to let them pass, your eyes growing wet at the sight of his pale and weakened appearance—something you had never witnessed before.

A wave of fear washed over you as you watched him being ushered away, threatening to consume you whole. The possibility of losing him suddenly felt all too real, and you couldn't bear the thought of a world without him in it.

Regret flooded your mind as you chastised yourself for not being more perceptive to his suffering earlier. How could you have let your emotions cloud your judgement? How could you have missed the signs that he was in such pain? You should have known, should have realised that he was going through something. You should have known that there must have been a good reason for his actions, for his attempts to push you away.

Deep down, you knew that he loved you just as much as you loved him, and there had to be a greater purpose behind his actions. All you could do now was have faith in his love and pray for his recovery.

The head maid rushed to your side, her face etched with concern, as she gently steadied you by holding onto your shoulders. You hadn't realised you were swaying until then, your head buried in your hands, "Come, mistress," She said softly, "Let's return to the House of Lotus and wait for good news. The master is in capable hands with Physician Jung. Everything will be alright."

You shook your head, voicing your protest, "But Eunsook, I need to be close to him—"

She smiled gently, squeezing your hands, "I know you do. But you wouldn't want to get in the way, would you? Let the others handle things for now, alright? Master will be just fine; he's much stronger than you think."

With a heavy sigh, you finally nodded in defeat and allowed her to guide you back to your quarters, realising she was right. You wouldn't be of any help to the guys, and it was better to stay out of their way while they worked to treat him at this critical moment.

Please, Yunho. I'm counting on you.

"Jongho, I need you to gather as much echinacea herb as possible from around town. It's the most effective plant for treating venom and relieving pain." The doctor urgently ordered, focusing on removing the layers of clothing from the general.

The assistant bowed, "Yes, Physician Jung!" before swiftly departing with Wooyoung, who had volunteered to assist.

Hongjoong stayed behind to help out, though he struggled to conceal his worry. His hands trembled as he observed the blood staining Seonghwa's clothes and noted the general's pale complexion as he lay almost lifelessly on the bed.

Noticing the dressmaker's distress, Yunho attempted to divert his attention, "So, where's the mistress?"

Clearing his throat to dispel the growing lump, the older man responded with a strained voice, "The last I saw, Eunsook took her back to the House of Lotus."

The doctor nodded, mustering a smile, "Good, it's best she doesn't see him like this. Now, hyung, I need you to focus and keep your emotions in check. Can you do that?"

Blinking rapidly, Hongjoong straightened up, determined to shake off the previous scene. Seonghwa had passed out shortly after spotting him and Wooyoung, halting any attempt to mount his horse. The surge of fear the dressmaker felt then was beyond words. But now, he knew he had to concentrate. Hearing Yunho use "hyung" after so long was grounding, a reminder that emotions had no place in their current situation. He nodded resolutely, "Of course. Just tell me what to do."

Together, they swiftly removed the general's bloodied clothes and tended to his wound, expecting a deep gash but finding only a surface graze. They were puzzled by the discrepancy between the amount of blood and the minor injury. Fortunately, it seemed the venom hadn't spread far; the discolouration was limited to the immediate area around the wound.

The physician concluded that Seonghwa's loss of consciousness was likely due to exhaustion and lack of proper treatment rather than the severity of the injury itself. With the herb they were gathering, he should recover fully in a few weeks.

Right on cue, Jongho and Wooyoung arrived back at the estate, slightly out of breath but carrying an abundance of echinacea as requested by Yunho. Without delay, the group of servants assigned to the doctor immediately sprang into action, following his instructions diligently. They divided the batch of herbs in half: one portion was prepared into a paste for external use, while the other was transformed into a tonic for consumption. With both methods employed, they were confident they could expel all traces of the venom from the general's system in no time.

As the first batch of medication was prepared within a few hours, the team of staff assisted Yunho with applying the paste over Seonghwa's wound and feeding him the tonic. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw his condition stabilise. Hongjoong felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he watched the colour gradually return to his friend's face.

Turning to Jongho, the dressmaker spoke, "Go on and fetch the mistress. She must be worried sick about him."

With an enthusiastic bow, the assistant hurried off to find you after receiving an approving nod from the physician, signalling that it was safe for you to visit your husband. When he arrived at your quarters, he found you pacing anxiously. Your steps halted abruptly when he called out, "Mistress!"

You held your breath until the younger man broke into a wide smile, "He's okay. You can go see him now."

A wave of relief washed over you, melting away the fear that had gripped your heart just moments ago. A small part of you had prepared for the worst, imagining a world without Seonghwa by your side, and the thought left you feeling utterly lost and alone. The prospect of becoming a widow, of navigating life without the man who had brought so much happiness into your world, was almost unbearable.

So when Jongho appeared in a rush, your heart leapt into your throat with fear. But as he delivered the news of the general's recovery, you couldn't contain the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you. Tears of relief streamed down your cheeks as you thanked the assistant.

With a reassuring smile, the younger man gently led you towards your husband, guiding you to the one person who had always been your anchor in the storm.

As you approached Seonghwa's quarters, your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. The memory of your last encounter with him lingered in your mind, casting a shadow of uncertainty over your thoughts. What if he didn't want to see you? What if his harsh words were a reflection of his true feelings, and he had truly grown tired of your presence?

However, anger also simmered beneath the surface as you contemplated the possibility. How dare he speak to you in such a manner, dismissing your feelings and calling you troublesome? The hurt of his words slowly gave way to indignation as you recalled the promise he had made to protect you from disrespect. Yet, he had been the one to wound you with his callous remarks.

Entering the room, you temporarily pushed aside the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you moments before. Your eyes immediately sought out your husband's still unconscious figure lying on the bed, and all other thoughts faded into the background.

Yunho moved aside respectfully to allow you a clear view, bowing in acknowledgement before addressing you, "Ah, Lady Park, you're here. Well then, I'll leave the general to your care for now. I should probably go and write back to General Officer Song to update him on his superior's status."

You nodded gratefully, offering him a warm smile, "Thank you so much for all your hard work, Physician Jung."

He shook his head modestly, returning your smile, "Please don't mention it, my lady. I'm just doing my job. We've given him the first batch of medication so far, and thankfully, his body is responding well to it. I plan to administer this to him daily. I'm confident he should be fully recovered in a few weeks."

Sitting beside Seonghwa on the bed, watching him peacefully asleep, tears welled in your eyes. His chest rose and fell steadily, a reassuring sign that he was still alive, still with you. It felt almost like déjà vu, reminiscent of the moment when he had first discovered your scars, except back then, it was you who lay on the bed.

With a trembling hand, you reached out toward his face, longing to touch him, to reassure yourself that he was truly okay. But before your fingertips could make contact, his combat reflexes kicked in, and he startled you by grabbing your wrist tightly, his eyes snapping open in alarm. As recognition dawned on his face, he relaxed his grip, softening at the sight of you.

"It's you..."

His reaction, though simple, was more than enough to convince you that he still felt the same for you. Instant relief filled your being, realising that all your previous worries about him growing tired of you were for nothing. You should have known better than to doubt his feelings for you.

After a moment, as if recalling your earlier exchange, he released your hand and turned away, attempting to maintain a stoic expression, "What are you still doing here? Aren't you angry with me?"

You scoffed, withdrawing your hand and crossing your arms over your chest, "How long do you plan to keep up this facade? Wasn't it enough that you said those hurtful things to me earlier? Calling me a burden and suggesting I leave you for another man."

At that, Hongjoong and Wooyoung interjected, reminding you both of their presence. The dressmaker shot up from his seat, his expression a mix of shock and anger, "He said what?! Park Seonghwa, you'd better have a damn good explanation, or I swear I'll knock some sense into you again—"

The private investigator quickly intervened, slapping a hand over the older man's mouth and offering a sheepish smile to you and the general, "Oh gosh, I apologise for him. We'll step outside to give you both some privacy to talk things over."

Once you were alone, your husband sighed heavily before sitting up, stubbornly dismissing your attempt to help him, "Listen, I meant what I said. Perhaps considering Prince Yeosang would be beneficial for you. You want happiness, don't you? You'd find it with a husband who doesn't have to leave, risking his life in wars. Someone who isn't stained with blood, someone who isn't a complete monster. It's for the best."

Your fists clenched as you glared at him, "Who are you to dictate what's best for me, General Park? You said it yourself, I'm my own person now, capable of making my own choices. I can do what I want and love who I want. Shouldn't that be left up to me?"

When he remained silent and continued to avoid your gaze, you pressed on, "And yes, I do want happiness. But how can I find it if I'm not with the man I love?"

At that, you sensed his resolve faltering.

Sighing, you reached over to cover his hand with yours, "There, I've said it. I love you, you moron. I don't want anyone else but you. Why is that so hard to understand? I don't care about what you've done to those people who call themselves my family; they deserved it, and I've forgiven you for it. I just... all I wanted was the truth and an apology from you. Instead, all you've given me were hurtful words. But I understand now. You were just scared, weren't you?"

Your heart fell when he still refused to meet your gaze, "Or was I mistaken? Did you truly mean what you said, wanting me gone?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his tight jaw, a clear sign of his restraint, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me then. If you can do that, I'll go as you wish."

Finally, he turned to meet your gaze, his eyes pleading, almost begging you not to push him. You couldn't comprehend his stubbornness; was it just his pride getting in the way? With a defeated nod, you relented, "I understand. You must truly want me to leave and be with His Highness. I suppose there's no point in staying where I'm not wanted. Goodbye, General Park."

Just as you began to pull your hand away and rise from your seat, he surprised you by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. His whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine, "No, I'm sorry... You're right; I didn't mean any of what I said. I love you too, my wife. Please don't go."

With a tired exhale, you melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as you buried your face against his shoulder. Each comforting squeeze seemed to ease the heartache you had been carrying, restoring a sense of wholeness within you. This was where you belonged, in his arms.

"You're such an idiot, you know that?" You murmured softly.

He chuckled against your neck, his breath tickling your skin, "I suppose I am." He admitted with a hint of amusement.

"About damn time you realised it, Park Seonghwa. I've been telling you for years. Disrespect your wife like that again, and I'll make you regret it—" Hongjoong's voice cut through the room as he burst in, followed closely by Wooyoung and Jongho, prompting laughter from you as your husband pulled you closer, using you as a shield.

"Please, he just regained consciousness!" The assistant interjected, defending his master despite earning a stern glare from the dressmaker. Deep down, however, everyone knew Hongjoong couldn't have been happier to see his friend alright.

« Preview of Part 19 »

In the warzone, Mingi paced anxiously, his mind consumed with worry for the general's well-being. It had been only two days since he dispatched the messenger to deliver his urgent letter to Yunho. He could only pray that Seonghwa had made it home safely and that his message had managed to reach the physician in time.

Despite his concerns, the strategist forced himself to focus on the immediate tasks at hand. He delved into refining his current strategies and devising new contingency plans for any potential scenarios that might arise before his superior's return.

Before long, a breathless soldier burst into the main tent with urgent news, rambling away in a panic, "Bad news, Officer Song! We were on standby at the border when..."

Mingi placed a reassuring hand on the soldier's shoulder, "Woah, breathe. Calm down and tell me what you saw."

After composing himself, the soldier continued, "Sir, Ruhon soldiers have been sighted approaching once again!"

Oh, crap.

He struggled to understand why this was happening. General Park had defeated most of the enemy forces in the last battle. Where could Ruhon possibly be sourcing this new influx of soldiers from? With the general absent, the strategist knew he would have to take command of the army despite his lack of recent battlefield experience.

But there was no other choice.

I hope you're happy with the outcome HAHA y'all, it's hilarious how accustomed I've grown to writing angst for this story that it felt incredibly weird to write a happy scene. Only two parts left, yippee!

As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/2): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @wolfgurl2600-blog

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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odyssiaca · 1 month

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odysseus is generally seen as 'morally ambiguous' due to his not always being seen as the best of people- but this is a very modern and feminist take, and whilst nothing is inherently wrong with the idea of feminist takes and retellings, it skews what we have and already know of the myths, and this can be seen most predominantly in the character of odysseus. odysseus is two things:

- not meant to a hero

- not meant to be good

he is written as a man faced with impossible odds, and who loses some- if not all- of his morality in doing so. BUT where does the idea of him being 'bad' come from? the penelopiad by margaret atwood, a woman known for being quite vitriolic towards men of any kind. in recent years, people have picked up on three major things from the odyssey:

- the hanging of the maids

- odysseus cheating on his wife

- odysseus going mad at the end

NOW, to break it into points:

the hanging of the maids is so often seen in a feminist light due to margaret atwood, where odysseus is painted as some cruel, vile, disgusting predator who loathes women. this isn't true to the odyssey AT ALL. in the odyssey it is explicitly stated by the nurse that raised telemachus: 'i shall single out those who betrayed you, my lord' and by one of the maids herself- melantho: 'if we sleep with the suitors, when they become king we will be in favour with him.' and THIS is why he killed the maids. not because he was insane, not because he was bad, but because they had betrayed not just him- but his wife. not all the maids were killed, only those who slept with the suitors. the argument most often used for this is that the women couldn't say no, but this goes against what the maids themselves say in the odyssey when they believe no one to be watching.

odysseus cheating on his wife HE DIDN'T. but he is a man, and as a man, he cannot be raped. he is a terrible man for sleeping with circe and calypso when he could have- as epic decides to say- say no. which is untrue!! these are goddesses. titanesses. circe is the daughter of helios, and calypso is daughter of atlas. they could overpower him simply by looking at him. circe turned his men to pigs, even with the moly she could have easily done the same- or worse- to him. the idea of him choosing to and being unfaithful stems from madeline miller's, Circe which whilst not inherently bad, goes out of its way to put all men in a terrible light, because the heroes deserves no rights in feminist retellings. odysseus wanted to say no, but could not as hermes explicitly told him he couldn't. on the flip side, calypso threatens, ensnares him and only releases him when told to by hermes and the council of the gods. in the odyssey it is literally stated: 'and odysseus stayed on the shores weeping for home before joining the nymph in her bed.' he did not WANT to sleep with calypso, but was left with no other choice but to do so. this is a recurring theme for calypso.

but he is blamed due to his gender, and the idea of 'feminism' and 'patriarchy'.

and now, the real reason for odysseus being seen badly:

the telegony the telegony is a myth written after the odyssey with telegonus- son of circe and odysseus- as the main character. in this he travels to find his father and meet him, but accidentally kills him on the shore. (peneleope marries telegonus, and circe marries telemachus) but this is where the idea of odysseus' insanity comes from. in the telegony, it is stated he went mad after the war, and couldn't survive without bloodshed, and so he went out seeking war, and women, and battle, and went mad in this.

the statement: 'generous to odysseus' is wholly unfair, because he is a man forced to lose everything, assaulted, violated, tortured and imprisoned with no hope of survival. he goes to war knowing he won't return for 20 years, won't see his wife, and won't watch his son grow. he is a man not a god, or a demigod. he's just some dude doing his best.

#greek mythology #tagamemnon #odysseus #the odyssey #the iliad #diomedes #homer #odypen #calypso #circe #mythos

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bucks-babe · 2 months

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maybe angel!reader helping bucky thru a panic attack? like he thinks when he dies hes gonna suffer in hell for the stuff the winter soldier did and we calm him down and help him? u can add smut if u want but u dont have to !!

My Guardian, My Angel, My Love

Pairing: Bucky x angel!reader

Summary: For the first time Bucky gets to experience peace because of his sweet angel.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Angst?, actually a lot of angst, I don’t know how it got that way but it did, it gets happy though, fluff, smut (I can’t help myself), oral f!receiving, handjob, awkward sex talk, like really awkward, talk about heaven and dying, talk about life after death and immortality, angels based off of Supernatural but I changed a few things, blood, nearly dying, gunshots, reader doesn’t have a soul but can still love because I said so, reader knows when and how everyone dies but can’t tell them, reader has wings, 3rd person, age gap (reader is eons old), wings being a metaphor for sexual assault?, think Maleficent, no use of Y/N, so many emotions

A/N: This is not supposed to force any religion nor be an accurate representation of any religion. I din't go with panic attack, rather I had him almost die. I was feeling angsty

The moment Bucky’s knees hit the ground he knows it's over, that this is the end. He knew this was the way he would go out, on a mission, desperately trying to atone all his misdeeds. Tendrils of pain shot throughout his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers. When his side hit the ground, he knew it wouldn’t be too long before he went, limbs feeling too heavy. He couldn’t hear Steve screaming for help, scrambling for anything to stop the bleeding.

What Bucky did hear though, was a ruffle, almost like a flock of birds flying by, then a figure he’d never seen before stood above him. She’s here to take me. It didn’t strike Bucky as odd that she was the only thing that was clear, the rest of his view blurry and unfocused. He tried to speak, he really did, but no words came out, the breath leaving his lungs not enough to push any words out.

The woman crouches down, hand cupping his cheek with such softness tears leave his eyes, wiped away by Steve in the quinjet who seemingly can’t see her. “Close your eyes, my love. When you wake up, I’ll be there.” Fuck, this is really happening. Fear coursed through his body, scared of what punishment his sins earned him. I deserve to go to hell for what I’ve done.

A guttural whine passes his lips; Steve chokes back sobs next to his lifelong friend. “Shh, none of that, now. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise. You can rest now.” All at once, the pain is gone. Bucky feels like he’s floating - it’s wonderful.

Bucky has no problem opening his eyes. What the fuck? This is hell? Well damn. The most wonderful sound meets his ears - a giggle, soft and delicate. “No, my love, this is not hell and you’re not dead.” She comes into view. She’s gorgeous. Wait, I’m alive! Apparently, Bucky says that last part because Steve’s gasp enters his ears.

“Yeah, Buck, you’re alive. Gave us a scare though, didn’t uh, didn’t know if you would make it.” Bucky doesn’t respond right away, too busy looking around for his mystery woman, only to be met with the walls of the med bay. “Hey, I’m right here, Buck, look at me.” It’s not the woman, rather it’s Steve.

“How long was I out? What happened?”

“A few days. It was touch and go for some time but you bounced back. When we were on the mission, Hydra had a sniper posted outside. He got you right in the stomach.” Bucky could hear the emotion in Steve’s voice, the fear of losing his best friend still leaving him shaken up.

“Well, they’re a pretty shitty shot if you ask me. Could have gotten one right between the eyes with one of those shit guns we got in the war.” Steve coughs out a laugh, turning into a belly laugh a few seconds later. Bucky would laugh with him, but the bullet wound in his abdomen says he shouldn’t. He still doesn’t see the woman, though. Maybe I just made her up.

A few days later, doctor Cho gives him the all clear to leave the med bay; however, he’s off duty for the foreseeable future and not any amount of his grumbling changed her mind. Still, Bucky hasn’t seen the woman. He feels a little crazy that he misses her, well crazier.

Slowly, he makes his way to his room. Steve offered to help but Bucky wanted to do this on his own, having been tended to his whole stay in hospital. He puts in his password on the keypad Tony installed when Bucky first arrived, when the fear that Hydra would come back and take him was too much to bear. His room is the same way he left it, except for a woman on his bed. Not just any woman though, it was his mystery lady.

Someone’s gonna have to put me in the cuckoo's nest. She laughs as if she can hear his thoughts. God, I hope not. “God has bigger things to worry about than such an inconspicuous fear as that, my love.” She sits up, facing him, the most beautiful smile gracing her lips.

“Can you hear my thoughts?” He feels like he already knows the answer, but asks anyway. If this woman is made up, of course she can read his mind. She just smiles and rises to her feet, walking over to him.

“What do you think, my love?” She tilts her head, a soft smile still resides on her lips. He feels so safe with her and she isn’t even real, just a figment of his imagination, a ruse to comfort himself in what he thought were his last moments. “I am very real, I’ll have you know.”

Bucky doesn’t know why, but he believes her. He believes this woman who showed up randomly on a field, who his best friend couldn’t see, and who disappeared without a trace. “How then? How did you do it?”

“Do what, my love?” She grabs his hand and leads him to the bed, helping him sit, finding a spot next to him.

“Save me, hear my thoughts, hide from Steve, disappear, get into my room, all of it. It’s not natural. Either you’re a ghost, or a mutant, or a reaper who was trying to take me. I don’t know, but you’re something.” Another laugh escapes her. He should be terrified of her, but he can’t find it in himself to be, her presence emanating calm.

“Well aren’t you a clever one? However, I’m none of those things nor did I save you. It just wasn’t your time yet. I’m an angel, though, to answer your question.” Bucky just stares, not believing her. This has to be a joke. “No joke, my love. If you want, I can prove it to you.” Bucky doesn’t even question why she calls him my love, the sound of it just too nice to stop.

Bucky just nods, words failing him. She rises to her feet, turning to stand in front of him. He hears them before he sees them, the same ruffle he heard as he lay dying. Then he sees them. A pair of dark wings coming from her back. She doesn’t spread them all the way, too big to fit in the small space of his room. “They’re black.” She throws her head back, a loud, beautiful laugh fills his ears.

“That was your first thought? You don’t like them? Personally I think they’re quite nice.” It was the first thing that came to his mind, the rest blank. Maybe he should have asked for more proof, but he knows she would never lie to him. He doesn’t know how he knows, he just does.

“I don’t know. I guess I just thought they’d be white. With the whole angel thing, you know?” She hums.

“There is a lot humans have wrong about us. I mean, plenty of us have white wings, but they come in many colors. If you can believe it, this isn’t even my true form.” Bucky is confused, she looks so real. A tangible human, someone he can touch.

“What is your true form then? Can I see it?” That’s a little personal to ask, dumbass.

“Well, that is a little complicated. Only one human has seen my true form and it didn’t go well. I thought she could handle it, but when she saw me, well let’s just say she couldn’t see from then on.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting that answer. “Anything else you want to ask me?”

Her wings are still out, folded against her back. They look so soft. “Can I touch your wings?” Her wings shift slightly. If he wasn’t trained to observe everything and everyone, Bucky wouldn’t have known that she was uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t know-”

“That’s okay. An angel’s wings are very personal. They’re sensitive and even for an ethereal being, it's very personal - intimate.”Clearing her throat, she changes the subject. “I know your name, my love. Might I say, it’s very pretty, but you don’t know mine.” Bucky picks up on her attempt to move his attention away from her wings.

“What is it then? I can’t call you angel forever, however fitting it may be.”

“Well I don’t exactly have a name. I’m a cherubim. The only angels who have names are the archangels, the first borns.”

It was Bucky’s turn to smile.”My little cherub.” She doesn’t tell him that cherub is the plural of cherubim. Until this day, Bucky didn’t know that angels could get shy, yet here his sweet cherub is, shying away from his piercing eyes. He bets if he felt her face he would feel the heat on them. “I have to ask though, my little cherub, why did you come to me?”

She became serious, staring right into his eyes. “Because God commanded it.”

“What does God want to do with me? Out of all the people in this world, he chose me?” A pained look crossed her face and she walked over to him, kneeling in front of him like he was her God. Her hands ran up his arms, goosebumps rising at the pass of her hands. He almost stopped breathing - he could feel her hand on his left arm. He hasn’t felt anything with that hand since he fell of that train.

Hands still rising, she cups his face with both hands, making him look into her eyes. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.” It wasn’t a question. She knew. “That is why he sent me. He sent me because you deserve it. You deserve to let go.” At that moment, Bucky broke down. Sobbing uncontrollably, somehow without pain in his fresh wound.

She pulls him into her, wrapping her arms around him. His face buried in her neck, arms clutching her back. She hesitates for a second, no one having touched her wings in thousands of years, yet she cocoons him with them, shielding him from the world. It only makes Bucky cry harder, her wings holding every bit of softness he thought they would. The comfort she brings unlike any other he experienced before.

Her arms rub his back as she coos to him. Soft words spoken into his hair. “Shh, my love, I’m here. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again. I will die before I let that happen.” The conviction in her tone sets him off more, unable to comprehend someone would do that for him without a second thought. A being, older than he can even fathom, is ready to give it all away for a mesley human. A speck of dust in her life. His entire existence no longer than a second when compared to hers.

That’s how it was for a while, Bucky’s sweet cherub staying with him. At night she would wrap her wings around him, keeping him safe. Bucky knows that her powers are the reason his nightmares are gone. At first he was glad that he could finally sleep, but then the guilt crept in. Why should he be allowed to forget the horrors he committed? Their families didn’t get that condolence.

When he told her this she wasn’t having any of it, wings jerking in annoyance. It was something that he picked up on, how when she experienced emotions her wings would move in different ways, always giving her away.

“I swear, my love, you’re going to make my wings turn gray with all this. I have lived a long life, longer than you can comprehend, so when I tell you that I have seen the best and the worst of this world, I mean it. And you, my love, are a good man. There is a reason God sent me to you.” Her wings surrounded him and he felt himself relax. “There is no quest to send you on, no mission that the world hangs in the balance of. It’s just you. A man who needs to see the good in himself.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, not meeting her eyes.

“You think your purpose is suffering for the things you couldn’t control? My purpose is to save you. My love,” she cups his face in her hands, wiping away the tears he didn’t know had formed, “I have done far worse things in my life. Horrific things, yet I’m here right now, with you. Please, let me take your pain away.”

None of this was easy for Bucky. No one has ever had their sole purpose be him. Back in the forties he took care of Steve, he stepped up when his father left. When he was no longer the Winter Soldier, Steve helped him, but Steve’s care never felt like this. Bucky knows that he’s fallen in love with her. He knows that she knows, but what he doesn’t know is if she feels the same.

What he doesn’t know is that she is fighting the same battle, the feeling of love is one she has never had before. It all came to a head one night, Bucky wrapped in her wings, her head on his chest. “Cherub?” She felt the vibrations in his chest.

“Yes, my love.”

“You said that we could be together for the rest of my life, right?” She did say that when he was worried that she would leave him after her mission was complete.

“I did.” One thing about her is that she never gave long answers to questions, not used to having to talk with humans.

“What happens when I die? Where will I go? I want you to be there with me.”

She sighed, thinking about how to convey her words properly. “When you die… you’ll go to heaven. It has already been decided. If you choose, when you go, I will be there with you for the rest of our existence, but you don’t have to make a decision now. My body will age with yours, follow you to the end of your life. When your time comes, we will leave and go to heaven where we will both be young again.”

Without hesitation Bucky answers, “I want that. I want you to be with me for the rest of eternity.” There was no doubt in his mind. Even though he met her a few months ago, he knew. “I have to ask, what is heaven like?”

She sits up a bit, shifting to lay on his chest, wings still cocooning them, keeping them in their own little bubble. “There is no one heaven. Not everyone who ever went there is in the same place. Heaven is made up of small pockets of personal heavens. People who lost their loved ones meet again, your happiest memories are relived, there is no pain or sorrow, you can have anything you want.”

Bucky felt the pull of his chest, emotion bubbling up. “Is my ma there? And Becca?” The words come out thick, a lump forms in Bucky’s throat. “Please, don’t lie to me.”

She looks into his eyes. “Yes, they are. They’re together and they’re waiting for you. I have seen them myself, right before I left to meet you. They talk very highly of you, my love.”

Tears fall from his face, the pain in his chest all the time at the greatest loss of his life eased slightly. “Can I talk to them?” He knows it's a long shot, but if there is a chance he wants it.

“I’m so sorry, my love, but I can’t. Even I don’t have the power to do that. If I could, I would.” A pained whine leaves his lips. “Hey, you know who is waiting for you too?” She waits a beat before speaking anyway. “Your dog from when you were a kid. He’s in his prime, always will be. His days are spent chasing rabbits around the yard.”

“Balto’s up there too?” A small smile graced his face, crows feet appearing by his eyes.

“Yeah. If it is any consolation, time passes differently up there. The longing you feel right now for them, they feel the same only it’s made easier by us.” Bucky only nods, staring into her eyes, seeing nothing but truth. His eyes flicker to her lips and back up. “You can, my love, I want you to.”

That was all Bucky needed to hear. Gently cupping her cheek, he guided her lips to his. There was no rush, no sense of urgency. They had all the time in the world and then some. Bucky never felt anything this good in his life and he was only kissing her. When she licked his lips, he opened mouth without a thought, brain clouded with love just for her.

He moaned into the kiss, the feeling of her tongue on his incredible. At his sound, Bucky felt her wings flutter under him. Breaking the kiss, he giggled. Bucky actually giggled. She reared her head back, slightly affronted by his laugh when she just kissed him.

“I’m sorry, my little cherub, it’s just that your wings tickled me.” She huffs and a second later, her wings are gone the only sign they were ever out is the small black feather on the bed. “No, cherub, don’t put them away. I love them.” She wasn’t really offended, but she wanted to tease him a bit.

Her wings were always out around Bucky, comfortable enough to reveal the most intimate and personal part of herself to him. He was the first human in thousands of years to touch them, but he was the only one to be wrapped in them. The only time they were touched was when a man cut them off her back. It was a time when she trusted humans, not knowing the atrocities they were capable of.

Her wings were white then, when she was pure and unknowing of the hate humans possessed. God crafted her a new pair. Of course she accepted them, but her feathers turned black, scared she looked to her father. When he said that it was because of the wrongs his creations did, it broke something in her, took away her purity, teaching her a lesson. Father never blamed her for it, he knew she would heal with time. It was part of the reason he sent her to the man she lays in bed with.

Bucky didn’t know this, he didn’t know how much she was betrayed by humans, only for her to trust him and him alone. She playfully glares at him before bringing her wings back out, sitting up on his lap. Gently, more gentle than he has been in years, Bucky reaches out to touch them. She lets him feel them whenever he wants, even wrapping him in them as he sleeps, but this was a completely different setting.

She was so vulnerable at this moment. Her wings flapped, a nervous tick of her’s, making Bucky pull away immediately. “Cherub, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She swallows before meeting his eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to touch them. It’s just that only one other human has touched them. There was a time where I was naive and innocent, not knowing what humans were capable of.” She pauses and Bucky sits up, back against the headboard and laces his fingers with hers, feeling the softness on his metal hand.

“It was a man, he had a family, a kid and a wife. They struggled to survive, trading their valuables for a slice of bread. Father sent me to help them, take away their sorrows. Said he was an honest man trying to make an honest living.” Bucky senses where her story is going, hoping that it doesn’t end the way he fears, but the pain in her eyes is palpable, a human emotion angels almost never experience.

He waits for her to continue, not forcing her to speak. “At first, they were grateful, having everything they needed. They had their health, food on the table, but the man grew greedy. He wanted more. One day, as I was watching his child in a field, keeping her safe from the horrors of the world, he snuck behind me with a sword he got from a blacksmith, sharper than any blade. He-he cut my wings right off my back.”

Tears fell from her eyes, not having relived that moment for thousands of years. Bucky felt his heart physically ache. She was sent to heal him, but it was his turn to do the same. “You know, my wings used to be white?” She looks into his eyes, red with tears. “When he hurt me, Father took me back to heaven, crafting me another pair. They were white but when he gave them to me, they turned black.”

A whine leaves her lips and Bucky pulls her into him, careful not to touch her wings. “Oh, my sweet little cherub, I’m here and I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I’ve never felt as content as I have with you, never so happy and I will do anything to keep you safe. I love you, no matter what you have done, I’ll still love you.” This only made her cry harder. Human emotions were foreign to her, but spending so much time with Bucky caused her to develop them. It was almost overwhelming, going from not having anything to having so much fill her body.

“Father said that it was because the man took my innocence, showed me the evil of the world. I’ve never seen him apologize for anything, yet that day he was broken, realizing that his creations, even the ones he thought were good, are capable of unspeakable atrocities. They will never turn white again because I’m ruined.” Tears welled up in Bucky’s eyes. His sweet cherub thinking she is anything less than perfect breaks his heart.

“My cherub, you saved me, now let me do the same for you. Let me heal you like you have me.” Leaning back slightly, she took his hands in her own, drawing them up her waist to her back, moving them to touch her wings. At his touch, she gasped, eyes closing forcing more tears to cascade down her face. The feeling of his gentle hands, hands that have done so much harm, resting on the most violated part of her body was something she never thought would happen.

She didn’t know she could love until she met Bucky, finally placing a word to the indescribable warmth that spreads throughout her body every time she thinks of him. “I love you too, my love. Forever and ever, til you die, til the end of time, in heaven and on earth.” They were both crying, neither experiencing the tenderness of love before.

He brings her down, kissing her with as much passion as he possibly could, tasting the mixture of both of their tears. Her arms clutching onto him, trying to get closer. He did the same, one hand running across her wings like he was trying to wash away the taint of betrayal his kind caused.

Shifting on his lap, she feels the bulge of his cock, half hard pressed up against her. Gasping, she pulls away. “Cherub, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, it just-.” She silences him with her lips, drawing a groan from him, subconsciously grinding down onto him. “Cherub, we have to stop, I don’t want to take advantage of you. You’re vulnerable right now, I can’t do that to you.”

Her hips stutter on his. “My love, I want to, I need to. Need to be closer to you, please grant me this.” His hands run up and down her sides, soothing the heat of her skin.

“Any time you want to stop, or don’t like something, you tell me. Okay? This is about me showing you how perfect you are.” She nods, kissing him one more time. Bucky’s hands slide up her shirt, resting on her soft skin, palms feeling the goosebump under his touch. Looking up at her for permission to take her shirt off, she nods.

Bucky did that with every piece of clothing, every move he made. Soon they were both naked, her wings splayed out on the bed, twitching in a way he never saw before - arousal. “My, my love, I have to tell you something.” He pulls his eyes away from her wings to look into her eyes. “I’ve never done this before. Angels, we don’t do this, I don’t know what to feel right now.”

Hands cupping her cheeks, he smiles at her, relaxing into his touch. “Do you feel safe?” She nods. “Do you feel like you have to do this for me?” She shakes her head. “Do you want me to please you?” She nods once again. “We don’t have to do anything with this,” he gestures to his throbbing erection.

“I want to, I just need you to show me what to do.” The thought that she trusts him enough to take care of her makes his cock pulse, aching for some type of relief.

“Let me make you feel good, okay? All you have to do is lay back and tell me how it feels.” She nods her head in understanding, worries slowly fading away. He kisses down her body, taking the time to swirl his tongue around his sensitive nipples, grinning at the small gasp it draws from his cherubs lips.

Going further down, his face is right in front of her pussy, smelling her intoxicating scent. “Keep your eyes on me, cherub.” She gulps. For a minute, Bucky just stares at her pussy, breathing her in, memorizing how wet she is before his tongue flicks out onto her clit.

“Oh, that feels good. Can you do it again?” She was so sweet, asking so kindly for him to deliver her pleasure.

“Of course I can.” And with that, Bucky dives into her pussy, restraining himself from devouring her. He groans into her cunt, already addicted to her taste, the moans she lets out are soft and breathy, yet it’s one of the most beautiful things he's ever heard, only competition being her laugh.

“My love, I don’t, what is happening to me?” Bucky pulls away from her cunt, reaching up to lace their hands together.

“Just let that feeling wash over you. It’s okay, I’ll catch you when you fall, I’m here.” He goes right back to her pussy, lapping her juices up, eyes boring into hers. She was twitching on the bed, hips bucking up to meet his tongue. Bucky chuckles when he sees her wings flap, not knowing what to do with the pleasure coursing through her.

Her orgasm comes as a surprise to her, never experiencing one before, nor knowing what they were. Her eyes shoot open, wings beating wildly, body almost convulsing on the soft sheets. Bucky pulls away, not trying to overstimulate her. He almost cums at the sight of her, it was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

It takes her a while, but she comes down, wings falling limp on the bed as Bucky crawls up her body, resting in between her legs. “My love, what was that? I thought I was about to die.”

Barking out a laugh, Bucky leans down. “That was an orgasm, sweet cherub. How did it feel?” She whines, not able to put what she felt into words.

“Like nothing I have ever felt before. It was incredible.” Her eyes close. Bucky is perfectly happy to hold her, not caring about his own orgasm, but her eyes shoot open, wide and curious. “Can you have one, too?”

Another laugh leaves him. “Yes, cherub, I can. It’s a little different from yours though.” Her eyes squint in confusion, clearly not understanding what could be different. “Well, for one, what I have looks a little different to yours, doesn’t it?” She nods. Bucky never thought he would be giving “The Talk” to an angel, but here he was. “When I have an orgasm, stuff comes out of this tip, right here.” He grabs his cock to show her.

“Can I see it? How do I make you do that?” It was Bucky’s turn to be surprised.

“Cherub, you don’t have to do that.” Her glare is enough to make Bucky continue. “Um, there are a few different ways. I could put it inside of you, that feels good for you too.”

“In where?” Bucky huffs, not in annoyance, but this talk is turning him off. Not that he’s mad at that, but the conversation feels like talking to a child, someone who hasn’t experienced anything sexual and it wasn’t exactly turning him on, it felt wrong to have this talk naked.

“In this hole right under where I was touching you. There is another one under that, but it’s different from the other. Or your mouth, but also a hand. Pretty much anything that could rub against that area.” Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. His cock was going soft right in front of her eyes.

“Can I do one? I want to see you orgasm.” Her eyes were so bright and eager, he couldn’t say no to his cherub. He nods, only for her to glance down at his soft cock. “Why is it smaller now? I think it’s kind of cute.”

This has to be the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him. No woman has ever called his dick cute, or made a comment on its size when soft. He gets compliments on how big he is when he’s hard, but soft is a different story. He’s a grower not a shower. He has to admit, his encounter is damaging his ego a bit. “It gets bigger when I’m aroused, but if it’s not touched it gets softer.” He’s lying straight through his teeth, he can stay hard for hours without touching his dick.

“If you touch it, it gets big again.” She switches positions, having him on his back, resting between his legs, face right next to his cock. He feels himself twitch and she jerks her head in surprise, giggling at her own reaction. She begins to almost pet him, it feels good but not what he needs.

He reaches down, guiding her hand to gather the precum at his tip, slowly pulling it back down, tightening her grip on his dick. “Oh, wow, it’s getting bigger. It’s so hard.” Her amazement at something so simple as a dick getting hard is endearing.

Bucky grunts when he twists her hand. “I liked that sound.” Her words make him groan again, cock all the way hard. His hips buck into her hand and he lets her hand go, trusting her to keep her pace. It’s slow but firm, driving him insane. He wants her to go faster, harder, but this is about her, letting her discover at her own pace.

“Spit on the tip, it’ll make it easier to move.” She does so without hesitation. Bucky’s head flies back into the headboard, moaning at her soft hands working his cock. “Just like that, cherub, you’re doing so good. This feels incredible.” Bucky meant every word of it. Her hand honestly felt better than the full blown sex he’s had in the past. Maybe it was because he loved her with all his heart, or maybe it was because she was an angel, either way, Bucky didn’t have it in himself to care.

“You look so pretty like this, my love. I love this, making you feel good.” Bucky’s hips pick up speed, feeling his orgasm building up in the base of his cock.

“Cherub, I’m going to cum. Please keep going just like that.” She figures he means orgasm since he is jerking just like she was. The urge to make him orgasm was almost too much to bear, wanting him to show her how beautiful he was when he lets go. “Oh, cherub, I’m about to, oh fuck.” He moans long and loud, cum spurting out of his tip. She gasps at the force of it but doesn’t let up her pace. She had never seen anything more beautiful than her love in this moment.

He has to stop her, not knowing that he needed a break. “Love, I want to make you do that again.” She scoops some of his cum off his stomach with her finger and just stares at it.

“You can taste it if you’d like.” She eagerly licks her fingers, eyes bulging at his taste, dropping down to lick the rest of it off his body. “Come here, cherub.” He pulls her into a kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. He pulls the cover over their bodies, her wings instinctively wrapping around him.

“Thank you, my love, for always taking care of me. I was sent to save you, yet I feel that it’s the other way around.” Bucky doesn’t think so. He knows that she saved him. They fall asleep together and in the morning they will find that her wings are just a bit lighter than the night before.

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