#fin/the end/final part/finale

[buckyseternaldoll]

eighteen hours.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Weeks apart on separate missions leave you and Bucky Barnes aching, desperate, and one heartbeat away from unraveling. The reunion? Eighteen hours of pure, breathless release.

Disclaimer: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, p in v, multiple rounds, overstimulation, edging, mutual desperation, shower sex, window sex, kitchen counter sex, use of restraints (soft), masturbation mention, lingerie tease, squirting (f), super soldier stamina, mild teasing from tb* members

It started like any other assignment.

A sharp morning. Polished boots. Steel chairs arranged around the Watchtower’s mission table. The kind of day where even the light felt clinical—too white, too bright, too final.

Valentina entered with a clipboard in hand and that usual glint in her eye, the one that said she already knew something you didn’t want to hear.

“Barnes, Yelena, Alexei, Bob—Bucharest first. Bogotá by week three. Rotating safehouses. No crossovers.”

You stiffened.

“Walker, Ava, and…”

She looked straight at you.

“You—Algeria. Then east through Istanbul. Targets on the move. You’re expected to stay mobile and out of range.”

The silence afterward said everything.

That pause before your name wasn’t a slip.

It was surgical.

Across the table, Bucky’s jaw tensed. He didn’t look at you, but his shoulders rolled tight. His metal hand flexed once, resting flat on the table like he was physically grounding himself.

This wasn’t routine.

This was designed.

The room shifted. Teams gathered their gear. Orders confirmed.

But neither of you moved.

Bucky brushed your fingers beneath the table—the kind of small, hidden touch that wasn’t meant to say goodbye. It was a promise.

We’ll find each other.

However we can.

—

Packing was mechanical.

Weapons, suits, coordinates, clearances.

Everyone was buzzing around the hangar level, focused on countdowns and jet fuel. But Bucky caught your wrist with a glance that made your breath hitch—then gently steered you down a side corridor.

He didn’t stop until you ducked into a quiet auxiliary room—once used for archive storage, now mostly forgotten. The lights were dim. A narrow bench ran along the wall. A few old mission files sat boxed in the corner.

He shut the door behind you.

“Just for a minute,” he said, voice low. “Just wanna be where you are.”

You barely nodded before he pulled you into his chest. He held you like he needed it—not tight or desperate, but complete. His warmth poured into you as you buried your face into the space between his neck and shoulder.

You ended up straddling his lap on the bench, both of you half-armored, half-undressed—hands roaming like you were trying to memorize every line, every scar, every breath.

“I hate this,” you muttered into his neck.

“I know.” His voice was steady. Anchoring. “But we’ll be okay.”

His mouth found the slope of your shoulder. Then your collarbone. Then lower—teeth grazing before lips closed around your skin and sucked.

You gasped—part surprise, part pure heat.

“Bucky—”

“Gonna leave a few. Let ‘em wonder how many more are where they can’t see.”

He left another. And another. The bruises bloomed warm beneath your skin—high enough that your tactical suit wouldn’t cover all of them.

When he pulled back to look at you, his pupils were blown wide, lips kiss-bitten and breath ragged.

“You’re mine,” he murmured. “Even if they split us across the damn planet.”

You ran your hands up under his shirt, nails scratching lightly across his ribs—grounding yourself in the solidity of him.

“You’ll text me when you can?”

“Every chance I get.”

“Even if it’s just one word?”

“Even if it’s just a photo.”

You smirked. “Of what?”

He grinned, leaning back like he had all the time in the world—even though you both knew better.

“I’m waiting for boob pics, love. Minimum one per timezone.”

You laughed into his neck and kissed his jaw, soft and smiling.

“You’re such a menace.”

“You love it.”

“Unfortunately.”

When the comm finally buzzed for final departure prep, you lingered another moment, forehead pressed to his.

“We’re good?”

“Always.”

And then you slipped out—his warmth still clinging to your skin, and his hickeys hidden beneath your collar like the loudest secret in the world.

—

The first few days weren’t unbearable.

Busy hours blurred the worst of it—briefings, drone recon, field scans. The kind of missions that demanded your hands stay full and your focus sharp. You told yourself it helped. That staying in motion kept the ache at bay.

But the nights were something else entirely.

By the third night, sleep wouldn’t come. The cot beneath you was too narrow, too cold. You rolled over instinctively and reached for the other side—empty. Your palm flattened against the mattress like it could summon him there.

It didn’t.

You’d already stripped out of your tactical suit, skin flushed from a lukewarm shower and a restlessness that refused to settle. The mirror over the sink caught your reflection just as the last of the sun dipped beneath the window—warm dusk light casting gold across your damp collarbone, your bare shoulder.

You grabbed your comm. Lifted your phone.

Pulled down your undershirt just enough to let the neckline dip low—sweat clinging to the curve of your breasts, a faint bruise from his mouth peeking out beneath the edge of the fabric.

The angle was deliberate.

Head tilted back. Lips parted. Not a full reveal. But it said everything.

Still thinking about the way your hands fit around my waist.

Bet you’d wreck me if you were here.

You hit send before you could talk yourself out of it.

—

His reply came six hours later. No text. Just an image.

The lighting was shit—whatever rooftop he was on barely lit by the glow of city spill—but it didn’t matter.

He was shirtless.

Dog tags heavy and low over his chest.

Hair a little messier than usual, as if he’d just run a hand through it before taking the shot.

But the part that made your thighs press together?

His sweatpants.

Slung low. Way too low. Obscene, really—the waistband clinging just above the vee of his hips, and beneath it? A thick, unmistakable bulge pressing upward. Not subtle. Not suggestive.

Hard. Veined. Heavy. Angry.

Like he’d taken the photo mid-thought, right before palming himself. Like maybe he had.

Your name was probably still on his tongue when he snapped it.

You sucked in a breath, cheeks hot, and held the screen to your chest like it could warm the parts of you he was supposed to be touching.

This was manageable, you told yourself.

Just teasing. Just playing.

It would pass.

—

It got worse.

What started as playful—just a little edge, a little fun—turned into something raw. Unbearable. Every picture, every breathy message only twisted the knife deeper.

Bucky cracked first.

The signal finally held long enough for him to send a voice note.

You were mid-gear check when it came through, tucked into a corner of the safehouse with your earbuds in.

“Woke up with my hand around my cock,” he rasped, voice low, wrecked. “Thought it was you at first. Swear to God, I could feel you there. Your breath on my neck, your legs wrapped around me. Then I realized I was alone again.”

A pause. A harsh exhale.

“And fuck, baby… I nearly lost it.”

You played it three times.

Nearly dropped your comm on the third.

—

You didn’t just tease back. You retaliated.

The next photo was a mirror shot—deliberately filthy. You stood in the dim light of your bunk, chest bare, your breasts fully visible this time, no shame. One hand was sunk into your panties, fingers clearly pressing against the soaked fabric. The other held your phone steady, angled to catch the full view: your messy hair, parted lips, heavy-lidded eyes, and the slick glint of sweat on your chest. No caption. Just raw hunger in pixels.

This help you sleep tonight? Or should I take more?

He didn’t respond immediately. But when he did, it was short.

You’re not playing fair.

My cock’s been hard since sunrise. Haven’t touched it. Saving every second of this for you.

You sent a quick clip later—just a few seconds long. You didn’t even speak in it.

Just six seconds. The camera angled low—your hand slipping beneath the blanket between your thighs. No real view, just the movement. The blanket shifted slightly with every circle you traced over your clit. Soft moans escaped—broken, breathy, like you were trying to stay quiet. Then a whimper—his name, trembling from your lips. No skin shown. No climax caught. Just the sound and the hint and the promise of you falling apart.

Bucky watched it on repeat like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

—

Then came Ava.

You’d crashed hard that night—exhausted, sweaty, and stripped down to just your lingerie. The maroon lace set he liked. The same one he’d picked out. It had become a habit—wearing it when you missed him. A reminder. A tether.

Ava had been reviewing footage by the window for perimeter movement when she caught it.

The camera was focused outward. But the mic had picked up your sleep sounds in the background.

She wasn’t trying to be cruel when she played it back.

She just raised an eyebrow and pressed play—a grin tugging at her lips as the soft moans filled the air. You were murmuring his name. Restless. Breathless. Like you were dreaming of him—no, feeling him.

“Mmh… Bucky—please… inside me… deeper—oh god… please—”

Your voice cracked on the last word, a sharp gasp like you were right on the edge.

You could’ve died.

“Jesus,” Ava had laughed, not unkind. “Want me to send it to him? Y’know, for motivation?”

You didn’t answer fast enough. She already hit send.

—

He didn’t laugh.

He didn’t even text back. Just disappeared for a few hours.

Locked himself in the bathroom of the Bogotá safehouse, palms braced on the sink, sweat dripping from his temple to his jaw. The floor was cold. His cock throbbed painfully in the tight grip of his tactical jeans, already slick with precum from the sound of your voice in his ear—played over and over again like a goddamn drug.

He groaned low, forehead resting against the mirror as he finally undid his fly—reached in and freed himself with a hissed curse.

Hard. Angry. Red at the tip and twitching. His hand flexed uselessly beside him, trembling from restraint.

He closed his eyes and whispered, “Fuck, baby… what are you doing to me…”

But he didn’t stroke.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t dare.

Not without your hands.

Not without your thighs tight around his hips.

Not without your voice whispering that he could let go.

So he tucked himself away again—biting down hard on the side of his fist until it bruised, his pulse roaring like a storm.

Later, when the signal held again, he finally texted:

This was supposed to help.

All these videos. These fucking pictures.

It’s making everything worse, doll.

I need you so bad, I swear I’m gonna lose my mind.

—

He stopped sleeping properly.

The circles under his eyes were darker now, sharp enough to draw questions if anyone had the nerve. His mouth was constantly pressed into a tight, agitated line. The usual post-mission calm he carried—that calculated, steady presence of command—was cracking.

Every time he sat down to write up route plans, his hands twitched. His left hand—the metal one—wouldn’t stop flexing. Clenching. Releasing. Like he was trying to ground himself in anything that wasn’t your voice moaning his name.

The last time he tried to issue orders midbriefing, he nearly snapped a comm tablet in half.

“Safehouse Delta’s too close to the highway,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ll reroute south. Four klicks. We’ll—”

He trailed off.

Everyone stared at the map table, then at Bucky—who was clearly no longer looking at anything but the wall. Or rather, through it.

His jaw clenched again. He tried to redirect.

“We’ll send Bob first to—”

But Bob was already looking sideways at him.

“You gonna pass out?”

“No.”

“You look like your brain’s buffering.”

“I said I’m fine.”

But his voice had cracked. Just slightly.

Yelena leaned back in her seat with a dramatic sigh, chewing on the end of a protein bar like this was better than Netflix.

“Alright,” she announced loudly, “I’m just gonna say what everyone else is thinking.”

Bucky didn’t even turn his head.

She kept going.

“You’re clearly about three days from spontaneously combusting from blue balls. You’ve been staring at walls, misreading maps, and grinding your teeth like it’s a fetish. Which—respectfully—gross.”

Alexei smothered a laugh. Bob coughed loudly into his fist.

“You need to jerk off or jump off a building,” Yelena finished, deadpan. “Pick one.”

Bucky finally looked up.

His eyes were bloodshot. His voice was tight when he replied.

“I’m not jerking off.”

That shut them up.

Yelena blinked. “…Okay. That’s not where I thought that was going.”

“I’m saving it. All of it.” His hand twitched again. “She deserves every goddamn second of it.”

A pause. The silence stretched—not awkward, just charged.

Even Alexei nodded solemnly, as if that was the only acceptable answer.

Yelena rolled her eyes but muttered, “Romantic. Disgusting. Continue suffering, I guess.”

—

Later that night, Bucky paced the rooftop alone. Fingers twitching. Breath uneven.

He pulled up your last photo again.

Your hand between your thighs. Lips parted. That little text below it:

I’d spread for you right here on this cot if you were with me.

He groaned into his palm.

Pressed the heel of his hand against the painful bulge in his pants.

Didn’t move. Didn’t stroke. Just gritted his teeth and endured.

“You better be ready for what I’m gonna do to you,” he muttered into the dark.

—

It was just after 7:00PM when the jet touched down.

The sky above the Watchtower was bruised in golds and fading gray, clouds curling low like dusk had rolled in too early. Your shoulders ached. Muscles stiff from too many hours strapped in gear, too many days sleeping with one eye open.

Your boots hit the floor with more weight than usual—the kind that didn’t come from exhaustion alone. It was something else. Something thick in your chest, pressing behind your ribs.

Inside the compound, it was unusually quiet.

Operatives passed by in pairs. Brief nods. No chatter.

Ava veered off toward medical, threw a wink over her shoulder, and mouthed, “Go get your man.”

You didn’t smile. Not yet.

Not until your fingers brushed the key panel of your shared room, and the door clicked open beneath your touch.

Something shifted the moment you stepped inside.

The air smelled like candle wax, clean linens, and something warmer underneath—musk and sandalwood, with a trace of vanilla. The room glowed gold in low light. Flickering candles burned on the desk, by the bed, and one small one beside the bathroom mirror.

It was quiet. But not empty.

He was there.

And the second he saw you, his face lit up.

“Hey,” Bucky breathed, already halfway to his feet. His voice was low but clear, as if speaking pulled breath right back into his lungs. “You’re home.”

That ache—the one locked in your chest—snapped clean open.

You dropped your duffel just as he reached you, arms wrapping tight around your waist, your cheek pressed against his collarbone. He smelled like soap and steel and something distinctly him—warm skin, freshly showered, a hint of cologne that clung to his shirt.

He didn’t devour you. Didn’t grope, didn’t rush.

He just held you.

One arm around your back, the other cradling the back of your head. His lips brushed the top of your hair.

You clung back like it might hold you together.

His hand ran slowly down your spine. You could feel the control in it—the way his chest rose hard against yours, like he was barely keeping the rest of him contained.

“I changed the sheets,” he murmured softly. “Lit a few candles. Put your shampoo out. Thought maybe you’d want a hot shower first.”

Your heart cracked, melted, rebuilt itself.

You nodded against him, cheek brushing the curve of his neck.

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did.” His smile touched his voice, even as his hand lingered low on your back. “You always say you wanna feel clean before we get dirty.”

That earned a small laugh from you—quiet, but real.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, cupping your cheek in one hand. His thumb brushed gently beneath your eye, like he was checking you for damage.

“I missed you,” he said. “Like breathing stopped.”

You kissed him, soft and slow—lips barely parting, just enough to feel the warmth of him beneath the quiet.

“Missed you more.”

He didn’t rush you when you stepped out of your gear. Just watched with quiet reverence, helping peel the layers off your shoulders and arms. He kissed your shoulder once—right over the old bruise he left weeks ago—and whispered:

“I’ve been thinking about this moment for 36 days. But I’m not rushing it. Not until you’re ready.”

Then he took your hand, kissed the inside of your wrist, and nodded toward the bathroom.

“Go on. I’ll be right here.”

—

You hadn’t even closed the door behind you.

The steam was already thick, curling from the shower where hot water slammed against tile. You peeled your clothes off slowly, shaking the last of the travel dust from your skin, limbs heavy from the mission—but your chest felt lighter. He was here. You were home.

You stepped into the spray and let it hit you.

Heat flooded your shoulders. Rolled down your spine.

The ache you’d ignored for weeks cracked wide open across your bones.

You arched slightly under the pressure of the water, fingers dragging slowly down your stomach. Your thighs pressed together at the memory of his voice—his lips on your neck, his hands gripping your hips like they belonged there.

You knelt briefly to grab a bottle you knocked over. Bent forward. Stretched.

And then—

“Mmh…”

Just a sound. A breath.

But it came from somewhere deep—unconscious, raw, and aching. It slipped from your throat like his name was caught beneath it.

The floor creaked.

You turned, startled—and everything inside you tightened.

He was there.

Bucky Barnes. Standing in the doorway of the bathroom like something ancient and carved from firelight. His chest rose fast, hard, like he’d sprinted across the room. Hair damp with sweat, not water. Shoulders tight. Fists clenched at his sides.

And he was naked.

Completely.

You hadn’t even heard him undress. But there he stood—broad, solid, his cock achingly hard and already slick with precum, flushed dark and twitching with every strained breath he took.

His eyes drank you in.

Steam wrapped around his body, clinging to every line of him. You watched his jaw twitch, chest heave. His cock twitched again—another thick drop of precum beading at the tip.

“Baby…”

His voice cracked. A breath. A prayer. Hoarse and wrecked.

“Please…”

“Please stop torturing me.”

But he didn’t move. Not yet.

Like he was waiting for your permission—even now, even while unraveling at the seams.

You reached for him.

One hand. Simple. Open. You pressed your palm to the center of his chest—felt the hammering heartbeat beneath it, the way his breath hitched.

He whimpered.

The sound broke from his lips like it had been fighting its way out for days. He stepped forward, cupped your waist, then your jaw, thumb trembling against your cheek.

“You’re real,” he whispered. “Fuck—you’re here.”

You smiled softly. Nodded.

He stepped into the shower with you—no hesitation this time.

The water soaked him instantly, but he didn’t care. He was already soaked in you. The scent. The need.

His hands were everywhere. One warm, the other metal, both reverent. They dragged up your spine, gripped your hips, held your face like it was holy.

“Missed you,” he rasped between frantic kisses.

“Missed your mouth. Your voice. Your thighs. The way you sound when I’m inside you—fuck, baby, I’ve been dying.”

Your back hit the tile with a dull thud. His body pressed into yours, all solid heat and desperation.

His cock bumped against your stomach—hot, heavy, leaking.

He gasped. “Touch me… please, just—let me feel you.”

You did more than touch.

Your hand curled around the base of him, felt him throb in your palm. He swore low against your neck, forehead pressing to yours as his hands skimmed lower, between your thighs.

“Jesus, sweetheart—”

His fingers slid through the slick between your legs.

“You’re soaked…”

He groaned. Slid two fingers inside you.

You gasped, walls clenching hard around the intrusion.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Tight… tighter than I remember. You really waited for me?”

You bit his jaw. “I didn’t even let myself finish, Bucky. You ruined me.”

That was all it took.

He gripped your thighs, lifted you off the ground like you weighed nothing, and pinned you to the shower wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist, arms around his neck.

“Hold on to me,” he breathed. “That’s it… Good girl.”

He lined himself up. Slick head pressed against your entrance. And then—

He sank in.

One thrust. Deep. Full.

You both cried out—voices echoing in the tile and steam.

The stretch. The heat. The sudden, perfect fullness.

He fucked into you with short, desperate thrusts—buried all the way, hips snapping with precision. You met him every time, nails clawing his back, gasping against his mouth.

Your orgasm ripped through you without warning—sharp, wet, loud.

“James, I—I’m coming!”

“I’ve got you. Let go. Soak me, baby.”

You did. You clenched so hard around him he almost collapsed.

He followed seconds after—buried deep, groaning your name as he came hard inside you, hips jerking, forehead pressed to your shoulder. His body trembled with the force of it. He held you there, still wrapped around him, his cock twitching inside your pulsing heat.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Not letting you out of this room for days.”

You kissed him through the fog, smiling against his lips.

“Good. I’m not going anywhere.”

—

Your legs were still shaking when he carried you out of the bathroom.

No towel. No words. Just the heat of his arms around you, the steady thump of his heart against your ribs, and the way the air between you still crackled like static. You smelled like him. He smelled like you. It wasn’t over. It had only begun.

He laid you on the bed like something sacred.

Candles glowed around the room, casting golden halos over damp sheets and flushed skin. The maroon lace slip sat untouched where he’d left it—delicate, sheer, wicked.

You reached for it with trembling fingers.

But Bucky caught your wrist gently. “Let me,” he said.

His voice was lower now. Hoarse. Reverent.

He lifted the slip over your head slowly, letting the lace fall like a whisper down your body. It hugged your hips, clung to your breasts just enough to tease—translucent and sinful. His lips brushed your spine as he adjusted the straps, hands shaking.

“I thought about this every night,” he murmured, lips brushing your shoulder.

“Fantasized about it. About you, straddling me in this. Had to lie there with my fists clenched, cock aching, just—breathing through it. Didn’t touch myself. Not once.”

His voice cracked. “Didn’t want to waste a single drop that wasn’t for you.”

You whimpered.

He hovered above you now—fully naked, flushed, his cock already hard again. Veined and glistening, twitching with the pulse of how badly he needed to be inside you.

But he didn’t rush.

Didn’t even move until you cupped his jaw and pulled him down into a kiss.

Mouths met softly, then harder.

Tongues sliding slow.

His body sinking into yours, heat to heat, heartbeat to heartbeat.

You grabbed the back of his neck and whispered against his lips, “Come here. Let me ruin you.”

He groaned, deep in his throat, and you flipped him onto his back, straddling his hips with shaking thighs. The lace slip rode up your thighs, leaving nothing in the way when his cock pressed hot and heavy against your dripping heat.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasped. “You’re soaked through.”

You leaned down, your breasts brushing his chest, and ground your hips against his length. “You did this,” you whispered. “With every text. Every picture. Every breath.”

He was gone. Let you take full control.

You gathered the hem of the lace slip, just enough to bare yourself to him, and guided him in—sinking down slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he was buried to the hilt.

Both of you moaned, raw and open, mouths slack with need.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, head thrown back, fists clenched in the sheets.

“Still so tight, baby. Still fucking perfect.”

You started to move—slow at first, grinding your hips in deep, lazy circles that dragged the tip of his cock right against your most sensitive spot. His hands clamped hard on your thighs, trying to keep his control, but you didn’t make it easy.

“You gonna come again just from riding me?” he asked, breathless.

You nodded. “Already close.”

He groaned, slipping one hand between your bodies to rub firm, precise circles over your clit.

“There you go… let me feel you. Let go for me.”

And you did.

Your second orgasm hit like a goddamn wave—crashing through your spine, stealing your breath, squeezing around his cock so tight he choked on a moan.

He didn’t last much longer.

You kept grinding, whispering filth into his ear—how full he made you feel, how wrecked you were for him, how you still weren’t done.

That tipped him.

He came hard with a strangled moan, cock pulsing deep inside you, hips jerking as he flooded you for the second time. His arms locked around your waist as he gasped into the crook of your neck, trembling from the force of it.

You stayed like that, slumped against his chest, bodies stuck together with sweat and slick and heat.

“You alright?” he asked, voice scratchy.

“I’m feral,” you whispered back. “And I’m not finished.”

He chuckled, still panting. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not tapping out anytime soon.”

—

Later.

The wine sat untouched on the desk.

The lace slip lay discarded in a crumpled pile on the floor.

The candles had burned halfway down, wax pooling thick at the base.

And you?

You were flushed. Sweaty. Trembling.

Knees sinking into the mattress as you straddled his thighs once more, this time with your back to him—hips hovering, your whole body tingling.

He leaned against the headboard, sweat shining on his chest, watching you like a man possessed.

“You sure?” he rasped, voice ragged and frayed.

You didn’t answer.

You just reached back, gripped his cock at the base, and lowered yourself onto him slowly—inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt inside you.

Both of you moaned. Loud.

Deep.

Almost pained.

Your hands braced against his shins behind you for leverage, thighs spread wide as you rode him hard—your ass slapping against his hips, slick and flushed with every bounce.

“Oh, fuck—”

His hands gripped your waist like he was anchoring himself.

“Jesus, sweetheart—you’re still so fuckin’ tight…”

You started to move—slow, heavy grinds, rolling your hips like you needed every inch of him rooted inside you. Bucky gasped behind you, his hands traveling from your hips to your thighs to your breasts, groping, squeezing, completely feral.

“You ride me like it’s the only thing keeping you alive,” he growled.

“Look at that ass—fuck, I can see it bounce every time you fucking slam down.”

You moaned—head tilted back, chest rising and falling—sweat glistening between your breasts.

And then—his fingers slid between your thighs from behind. Two of them, circling your clit with ruthless precision.

“I wanna feel you come again, baby. Let me feel you fucking gush on my cock.”

Your thighs trembled. Muscles locked. Your core started to spasm.

“Bucky, I—I think I—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Do it. Come on, baby. You’re dripping, you’re so fucking close—let it happen.”

You broke with a cry.

Legs shaking. Hands digging into his thighs.

Your pussy clamped down hard, and then it hit—

You squirted.

Hard.

Hot wetness sprayed between your thighs, down over his cock, soaking the sheets. Bucky let out a strangled moan, clutching your waist like he was going to lose his mind.

“Goddamn—fuck, look at you. You’re gonna make a fucking mess, aren’t you, baby?”

He didn’t stop.

He snapped his hips up into you, relentless now—grinding deep as your soaked cunt fluttered around him, so overstimulated your vision blurred.

“Still want more?” he panted, thrusting up again, angling perfectly.

“I can feel how much you need it. So greedy for me—so fucking full of my cum, and still not satisfied.”

You couldn’t answer. You just moaned, nodding wildly, nails dragging down his thighs, thighs shaking uncontrollably.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his breath hot on your shoulder as he leaned forward, one hand now wrapped tight around your throat.

“You gonna come for me again? Gonna make a mess on my cock one more time?”

“Yes—James, please—”

And you did.

A second wave slammed into you.

You screamed, back arching, body locking as you squirted again—wetter this time, gushing down over his balls, onto the sheets, soaking everything beneath you.

Bucky lost it.

“Shitshitshit— I’m coming—fuck, baby—I’m—”

He grunted, jerking up into you with three final brutal thrusts as his cock pulsed deep inside you, filling you again, so hot you felt it flood your walls.

You collapsed forward onto the mattress, his arms catching you just before you slumped completely. He held you tight from behind, your body still twitching, both of you covered in sweat, slick, and release.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, voice dazed, completely gone.

“You just… soaked me, baby.”

You half-laughed, half-whimpered. “I couldn’t help it. You broke me.”

“Good,” he growled, kissing your neck. “You can break me next.”

—

You should’ve been done.

You should’ve been shaking, satisfied, breathless from three rounds and nothing left to give.

But you weren’t.

The ache still lived in your bones.

The emptiness still throbbed between your legs.

And when Bucky’s lips brushed your temple—slow, tender, trembling—you felt it in him too.

He needed more.

You both did.

The sheets beneath you were damp. Your thighs were slick. Your chest rose with every sharp breath, nipples flushed and sensitive, body still twitching from your last orgasm. And still… the hunger hadn’t dulled.

“You okay?” he whispered against your throat.

“No,” you rasped, voice cracking.

“I need you again. Right fucking now.”

Bucky exhaled a shaky breath. His cock twitched against your thigh—already stiffening again.

“Jesus, doll… you’re insatiable.”

He kissed your jaw. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Then he shifted—slow but deliberate—and suddenly, your wrists were gathered above your head. You gasped at the motion, but his grip was careful, tender. He reached for the discarded shirt at the foot of the bed and looped it around your wrists—soft, warm, not tight.

“Just wanna keep you here,” he murmured, kissing your palms one at a time.

“Let me take care of you.”

Your stomach fluttered. Your thighs clenched.

And when he dropped between your legs, your breath hitched so hard your back arched off the bed.

“James—”

“Shhh,” he purred, brushing his stubble along the inside of your thigh.

“Gonna keep you right here, sweetheart. Gonna make you come until your body forgets what rest feels like.”

His tongue dragged through your folds—slow, warm, filthy.

The first flick over your clit sent your hips off the bed—but he was already holding you down, fingers firm, spreading you open like he was fucking home.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled into your cunt, voice rough with disbelief.

“Jesus, baby, you taste like both of us… fuck. You’re perfect.”

He devoured you.

Long, slow licks that lapped up his own cum still leaking from you. Wet, obscene noises filled the room—every slurp, every moan against your pussy like it was the only thing that ever mattered.

You whined. Cried out. Legs trembling.

His mouth worked faster, tongue flicking your clit with maddening precision—soft then hard, gentle then firm, always changing, always knowing exactly how to ruin you.

“Bucky—fuck—baby I—”

Your voice broke.

Your hips bucked.

You were so close again, already, already—

He pulled back.

“Not yet,” he rasped, lips wet and eyes dark.

“Not until you beg for it.”

You sobbed—from the overstimulation, from the ache, from how badly you needed to fall apart.

“Please—please, baby, I can’t—just let me—let me come, please—!”

That broke him.

He groaned, deep and guttural, and latched onto your clit with his mouth wide and relentless—tongue flat, dragging fast and rough, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs.

You exploded.

A scream ripped from your throat as your orgasm hit like a strike of lightning—your whole body shook, fists clenched, toes curled, thighs trembling. You gasped so hard your ribs ached. The headboard thudded behind you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice soaked in reverence.

“One more, baby. Just one more for me.”

You didn’t even get to respond.

Didn’t even breathe.

Because his tongue never stopped.

He kept sucking—soft at first, then harder—until another wave curled sharp behind your ribs. You sobbed his name, pulled at the binds, tried to run but couldn’t move.

You came again.

Harder.

Legs seizing, slick gushing between your thighs, soaking his face, your body curling from the sheer force of it.

He kissed your trembling thighs through the aftershocks.

Pressed his forehead to your belly.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“I don’t even know where I am,” you panted.

“And I think I like it.”

—

Later—

Maybe thirty minutes.

Maybe five.

Time had stopped meaning anything.

It warped, curled, bled together beneath the hum of overstimulation and breathless ache.

You lay curled on your side, one leg bent, sheets tangled around your calves. Sweat cooled on your skin in sticky rivulets. Your breathing had started to even out, but your body still pulsed from the inside—too full, too stretched, too tender to be still.

And then—

The mattress dipped behind you.

You felt his warmth before you felt his hands.

He slid in close—chest to your back, thighs pressed to yours, breath curling against your neck.

His lips brushed your shoulder.

“Still want me?” he asked, voice soft as fog.

You answered with a sigh. Reached back without looking, your palm wrapping around the hard length of him, thick and hot and already twitching against your fingers.

“Always.”

You rocked your hips back, slotting yourself perfectly into him.

He kissed your spine.

Tucked his face into the crook of your neck, and whispered like a man undone.

“I’ll never stop wanting you.”

One hand lifted your top leg, just slightly—fingers gliding over your thigh. His other arm wrapped low around your waist. You felt the weight of him, the warm press of his tip teasing at your entrance—slow, so fucking slow—until he finally pushed inside.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasped, as if the heat of you had burned him.

“You’re still tight. Still fluttering around me.”

You whimpered.

He thrust deep.

Steady. Gentle.

Every movement an unspoken prayer.

No rhythm. No pace. Just a rolling, molten motion—his cock dragging deep and slow, slick with everything you’d already shared, stroking right against the spot that still trembled.

“I could live here,” he breathed. “I want to live here.”

Your hand gripped his forearm where it wrapped across your middle. He pulled you back against him with every gentle thrust, grounding you in the heat of his body, his breath stuttering where it ghosted along your neck.

“You’re so good to me,” he murmured. “So fucking good.”

“Still feels like a dream,” you whispered.

“Then don’t wake up. Just… stay right here. Let me have you like this.”

Your eyes fluttered shut. Tears stung, soft and sudden. It wasn’t pain—it was too much pleasure. Too much love. The way he moved inside you like your body was a temple. Like every inch of you was his.

“Tell me you’re mine again,” he whispered, voice breaking.

You choked on a moan.

“I’m yours, James. Always.”

You came first—slow and quiet. A gentle quake that rippled from your core outward, your body trembling against him as your inner walls clamped down tight. You gasped softly, a sob in your throat, your hands fisting in the sheets.

“That’s it,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

“Let go, doll. Let me feel you.”

He wasn’t far behind.

He buried himself deep, groaning low into your hair, his whole body taut as his release surged inside you again—slow and warm, his cock pulsing deep as he held still, hips locked to yours.

You lay there, body slack and soft, his cock still inside you.

He didn’t move. Didn’t pull away.

His fingers traced lazy shapes on your belly, his lips pressing soft, almost absent kisses to your damp shoulder, your neck, your cheekbone.

“You okay?” he asked eventually, voice quiet.

You nodded.

“I think I’m in love with you again.”

He smiled against your skin. “Good. I never stopped.”

—

Your body was trembling again.

Not with the sharp, writhing spasms of climax—but the deeper, low-grade tremor of exhaustion.

The kind that came after too many orgasms and too little rest.

Muscles fluttering, breath short, limbs weak. You felt boneless and heavy, like your body had melted halfway into the mattress.

And yet—

Your core still throbbed.

Your nipples still ached.

Your cunt still ached for him.

He noticed. Of course he did.

Bucky sat back on his heels beside you, eyes trailing over your form with something like worship—something like worry.

His hand reached out slowly. Brushed your sweat-slicked hair off your forehead. Pressed a soft kiss there.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice gentling. “You with me, sweetheart?”

You nodded once, eyes glassy. Your throat was too dry to speak right away.

“Breathe for me. C’mon.”

His thumb stroked your cheek.

“You look wrecked.”

“I am…”

Your voice came out hoarse.

“I’m so tired.”

That broke his heart a little—you could see it in the way his brows creased. His jaw clenched like he was trying to talk himself down from his own feral hunger.

“Then let’s stop, okay?” he offered softly. “Let me clean you up, hold you for a bit. You need rest.”

But your hand was already moving.

Shaky, slow—but determined.

You reached between his legs and wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock.

Still hard.

Still thick and flushed and leaking at the tip like he’d never finished.

His breath caught.

“Baby—”

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, tears suddenly springing to your lashes.

“Please, don’t stop. I need you.”

He looked stricken.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he murmured. “I don’t wanna take too much.”

“Then be gentle,” you gasped, stroking him slowly.

“But don’t pull away. I need more. I want you again. I want you.”

His restraint cracked like glass.

With a low, ragged sound, Bucky leaned down to kiss you—soft, shaky, like a prayer being answered. He whispered against your lips.

“Tell me when to stop, baby. Or I won’t.”

You nodded.

Wrapped your arms around his neck.

Pulled him into you.

He guided your legs open with reverent hands—watching your face the entire time, watching for any flinch or hesitation. You were sensitive. Sore. Spent.

But not done.

“I love you,” he said quietly, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“So much it hurts.”

You barely had breath left to answer.

“Then have me,” you whispered. “Take what’s already yours.”

His cock slid into you slow—so slow—inch by inch, the stretch deep and aching, but your body welcomed him like he’d never left.

He moaned into your throat.

“Fuck, baby… still so tight. I can feel your pulse around me.”

He moved gently. Just the slow grind of his hips, the full drag of his cock over soaked, sensitive walls. His hand slid under your back, pulling you flush to his chest.

“You tell me when to stop. You hear me?”

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered. “Just keep giving me all of you.”

And so he did.

With every thrust, he kissed you. With every shift of his hips, he whispered your name. His fingers stroked your side, your hip, your waist—every inch of skin he could reach. You shook beneath him, moaning soft and high each time he bottomed out.

“You’re incredible,” he rasped. “You’re still taking me like it’s the first time. My perfect girl.”

Your orgasm crept in like fog, soft and wet and overwhelming.

You came with a shuddered cry, barely able to hold him, but your body squeezed around him tight—fluttering, spasming, claiming him all over again.

“That's my girl,” he whispered, voice shaking. “So fucking good for me.”

And then he followed—hips stuttering, forehead pressed to yours as he groaned your name like a benediction. His cock throbbed deep inside, spilling more warmth into the mess already flooding between your legs.

He collapsed next to you, immediately pulling you into his arms. Your body was trembling. His thumb stroked your cheek.

“No more unless you ask,” he murmured against your hair.

“I’ll only give you what you want.”

—

The sky was beginning to lighten.

A dusky indigo bled into grey, softening the skyline behind the Watchtower’s windows. But inside the room, time was a blur of candlelight, heat, and the thick, dizzying scent of sweat and sex.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d fully caught your breath.

Your whole body felt glass-thin. Shivering. Sensitive. The sheets clung to your skin with sweat, and your legs barely worked. But the ache was still there. Nestled low. Pulsing. It didn’t fade.

Bucky’s palm slid over your thigh—soft, slow, as if testing your response.

His voice came a moment later, raspy and hesitant. “Sweetheart… we can stop. You need rest. I can wait.”

But you turned to him, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. Your fingers found his, laced through them.

“I want more,” you whispered. “Please… take me there.”

He exhaled like you’d just saved his life.

Guiding you gently toward the windows—your legs shaky, but moving—he kissed your shoulder and whispered, “I’ll be gentle. Just let me see you.”

The whole room swam around you, golden in candlelight and glimmering sweat.

The skyline stretched before you. Towering buildings, distant lights. No eyes. Just your reflection—flushed, ruined, hair damp and tangled across your shoulders.

“Fuck,” Bucky exhaled when he saw you.

“Look at yourself, baby. Look what I’ve done to you.”

You braced your palms against the cool glass, breasts pressing to it as your body arched. The contrast of heat and chill made you gasp. Bucky moved in behind you, spreading your thighs with his knee. One hand on your hip. The other wrapped around his cock, dragging the head through your soaked folds.

“Still dripping,” he muttered. “Even now. Jesus, you never stop, do you?”

“I need it,” you whispered. “Still need you.”

He didn’t make you wait.

Not this time.

He slid into you with one deep, brutal thrust—your bodies colliding with a smack so loud it echoed off the glass. Your moan fogged the window instantly, your hands flattening harder against it.

“Bucky—fuck—”

He set a hard rhythm, pulling your hips back to meet every thrust, the wet sound of your bodies filling the room. You could barely stand, legs shaking, forehead pressed to the glass.

“That’s it. Just like that,” he groaned. “So fucking perfect like this. My girl. My pussy.”

His hand slid around your throat—not squeezing, just holding, grounding. His mouth hovered by your ear.

“You were made for me,” he said. “Fucking built for this.”

“Harder,” you begged. “Please—please don’t stop.”

“Look at your reflection,” he rasped. “Look how good you look. Look how you’re taking me.”

You opened your eyes—and the sight of yourself, cock-stuffed, sweat-slick, wild-eyed, flushed and wrecked against the window, nearly sent you over the edge.

He thrust harder. Faster. Your thighs trembled violently.

“Gonna come,” you sobbed. “Can’t—Bucky—I can’t hold it—”

“Then don’t,” he growled. “Come for me, baby. Come with the whole fucking city watching.”

You shattered.

Legs giving out.

A scream ripped from your throat as your orgasm slammed through you like lightning. Your vision blurred. Your body buckled. Bucky caught you before you hit the ground—arm locking around your waist as he kept moving, groaning into your neck.

“Fuck—fuck—gonna fill you again—”

His hips snapped hard, once, twice—and then he came with a guttural sound, spilling inside you with a heat that pushed out around the edges. His head dropped to your shoulder, body shuddering as he emptied himself again.

You stood there for a long time—pressed to the glass, panting, twitching. Your hands limp against the windowpane. Bucky held you like you were breakable.

“You okay?” he whispered.

You nodded faintly.

“Good. ‘Cause we’re not done.”

—

The sun was climbing now.

Pale gold spilled across the Watchtower skyline, casting long streaks of light onto the floor like it was forgiving the sins you were still committing.

Your whole body ached—but not in the way that begged for rest.

It was a deep, needy pulse. Faint, but still there. A hunger that wouldn’t let go.

You stumbled barefoot into the kitchenette, still bare, still slick between your thighs, wearing nothing but Bucky’s hickeys. Your hair was tangled. Your lips were swollen. Your legs trembled with every step.

Your hand landed on a protein bar. You peeled it open with shaking fingers and leaned on the counter for support.

“You better be looking for food,” you said over your shoulder, breathless and hoarse.

You heard the footsteps.

But they didn’t head for the fridge.

Bucky’s body pressed into you from behind—solid, burning hot, and still hard. He slid one arm around your waist, the other reaching up to gently move your hair aside so he could press a kiss to your neck.

“I am hungry,” he rasped, his voice low and feral.

“Just not for that.”

“Bucky,” you groaned, half-laughing, half-destroyed. “I can’t even feel my legs—”

“Good,” he whispered. “You don’t need ‘em.”

Before you could blink, he bent you over the kitchen island.

Your palms slapped down on the cold countertop, and you gasped as your bare nipples brushed the smooth marble.

You didn’t even get the chance to speak.

He lined himself up and pushed in fast—no prep, no warning, just the slick glide of his cock stretching you open again, sliding back into your wrecked body like it was home.

“Fuck, Bucky—!”

“Still so wet,” he growled behind you.

“Still squeezing me like you want more.”

His hands slid to your hips, gripping tight, pulling you back against him with every hard thrust.

This wasn’t slow.

This wasn’t tender.

It was filthy, frantic, barely-in-control fucking. Not because he didn’t care—but because he still needed you that badly.

The sound of skin slapping echoed in the tiny space. The sticky squelch of your soaked cunt taking him again and again filled the air. Your moans bounced off stainless steel and tiled walls.

You dropped your head onto your forearm.

“We… already did this—eight times,” you whimpered.

“I know,” he growled, fucking into you deeper.

“And you’re still fuckin’ perfect. Still taking it all.”

“You’re gonna kill me—”

“Then what a fucking way to go, sweetheart.”

He slid a hand around your front, fingers seeking out your clit, stroking with maddening precision. The way he touched you was still worshipful—even in this chaos.

Your whole body clenched.

“You want one more?” he asked, voice thick, rough, hungry.

“You got one more in you for me, doll?”

“Yes—yes—please—just one more—!”

You came hard. Your scream was ragged, echoing through the kitchen, and your knees nearly gave out from the force of it. The overstimulation blurred your vision with white-hot static, but your body still took every inch of him.

Bucky groaned deep and low, hips jerking as he spilled inside you one last time—his cock pulsing, his chest pressed to your back as he moaned your name like a blessing.

He didn’t sag against you. Didn’t drop.

He stayed upright, body still buzzing, cock still twitching inside you. You could feel him—full, ready again. You were the one shaking. Not him.

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered. “You’re still hard.”

“Told you,” he murmured, breath warm against your ear.

“I could do this for days.”

“James…”

He slid his arms around your waist from behind and pulled you upright, holding you there with his cock still buried deep.

“I’ll stop if you need me to,” he whispered.

“Just say the word.”

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, heart thudding weakly.

“…I think my soul already came twice.”

Bucky laughed softly. Kissed the crown of your head.

“Rest, baby. I’ll still be here when you wake up. Hard as a fucking rock.”

—

You didn’t know what time it was when you finally woke.

Only that the light outside was warmer. Honey-gold, slipping through the windows in slow streaks. The world felt distant. Blurry. But the weight behind you wasn’t.

Bucky’s arm was still around your waist, his chest pressed along your back. Warm. Steady. His breath ghosted over the back of your neck in a soft, familiar rhythm.

Your body ached in the best ways—sore thighs, puffy lips, bruised hips—but it was the ache in your chest that hummed the loudest.

You blinked. Shifted slowly.

He stirred.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice still sleep-rough.

“You okay?”

You turned to face him—carefully, slowly—and found his eyes already open, watching you.

“Mhm. Everything hurts,” you whispered. “In a good way.”

Bucky smiled. Just a little. One of those soft, private smiles he saved for no one but you.

“Told you I’d wreck you.”

“You did. Multiple times.”

He chuckled, then leaned forward to kiss you.

No tongue. No hunger. Just warmth. Lips brushing yours with slow reverence, like he was re-learning your taste now that the storm had passed.

You melted into it.

Pressed your forehead to his.

His fingers traced lazy lines across your spine, slow and aimless.

“Missed this,” he whispered. “Missed you.”

You whispered it back. Quiet. Honest.

Then let the silence settle over you both for a while—safe, sacred, slow.

Eventually, after a second nap and a shower where no one tried to fuck anyone against the tiles (God bless you), you both managed to drag yourselves into clothes and make your way toward the common area.

Bucky wore a black tee and gray sweatpants that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. You were in a loose hoodie and biker shorts—though judging by the soreness between your thighs, sitting might be a challenge.

His arm was around your waist the whole walk.

Your legs still wobbled slightly, and he adjusted his pace to match yours. Not a word about it. Just his warm palm pressing steady against your hipbone like a grounding wire.

—

The squad was already gathered around the Watchtower’s long dining table.

It was pasta night.

Yelena sat at the end, spooning pesto onto her plate with war-like intensity. Ava nursed a glass of wine. Bob looked half-asleep. Alexei was double-fisting garlic bread.

John Walker looked up the moment you stepped into view.

“Oh look,” he said dryly. “It lives.”

You flipped him off without stopping.

“Someone got their back blown out,” Ava added sweetly, raising her glass.

“We heard everything,” Alexei boomed. “Whole floor shook.”

“I had to wear my noise-canceling headphones,” Bob mumbled, half amused, half scarred.

Yelena didn’t even look up from her plate.

“I placed eight rounds in the pool. I win. Pay up, losers.”

You covered your face with your hands.

Bucky didn’t blink.

Just leaned in close, mouth brushing your ear, voice low and smug.

“We could’ve made it nine.”

You choked on your wine, burst out laughing, and slapped his chest as he grinned like the devil himself.

And when his hand slipped onto your thigh under the table—warm, firm, possessive—you didn’t move it.

You just smiled.

And yeah…

You weren’t done.

💜 @iamthatonefangirl @sonja-blayde

[thalwri]

TEACH ME, SIR!

part 2!

STARRING: art professor!rafayel x art student!reader

synopsis: you've been struggling in your art classes, and your professor hadn't made it any easier for you. who would have thought he'd come looking for you when you stopped coming to the lessons?

warnings: porn with plot, all characters are aged up (and in university), fingering, body worship, cunnilingus, cockblocking, male masturbation, dirty talk, cock slapping, overstimulation, cum eating, pure filth.

wc: 7,5k

MINORS DON'T INTERACT!

you were more than prepared to throw that chunk of clay out the window. you could feel the pressure looming over you, mostly on your neck. you were just over a month away from your practical exam and you were drowning in absolute shit.

how did you end up in this unworthy predicament? 

out of the kindness of your heart, and the fact that you owed them big time, you decided to take up an art course with one of your closest friends so that she wouldn’t be lonely throughout the semester. 

you were registered and everything, with the needed supplies clean and fresh and ready for use. the glossy joy of it slowly disappeared when you slowly came to realise over the following days that your friend wasn’t attending classes for a reason. she dropped out. not of the class. of the university. and ran to another country with her boyfriend for a six month vacation.

perfect. now you were all on your own in an art class as someone who had no clue on how to draw, paint, or do anything art related. the only consolation – and misfortune – was your unnaturally handsome professor. despite his pretty face and alluring voice, he had a certain knack that always got on your nerves.

based off the rumours you’ve heard, professor rafayel worked as both a teacher of art and classical music, specialising in opera. apparently he had a voice so divine that half the auditorium fainted or fell ‘madly’ in love with him. his artwork was basically on par with his voice. 

not only was he a renown artist globally, he often worked on pieces to send to the gallery near the university which attracted multiple art lovers from all corners of the world. he was rarely in lectures in the previous years but this year he decided to buckle down and teach full time. 

and the first thing he had you do for your finals was a trial sculpture. you had started with something basic: a fish. a cute little fishie that would be surrounded by a wave. not too simplistic but it had enough detail to be easy to look at and mark. 

you were almost certain your professor would compliment you for the detail you’ve meticulously added to your work. the way you’ve made something so simple so beautiful especially for your first time.

“it’s lazy.” that melodic voice quickly soured into a baneful buzz of noise. rafayel stared at your work with a hint of disdain on his face. your hopeful smile slowly fell in disbelief. you spent hours on that. hours. you could hear the giggles from the girls in the studio erupt behind you. 

it wasn’t surprising that the professor had gathered a cutthroat fanbase of women who would do anything to gain his favour– and from some others, fuck him. solidarity clearly didn’t exist when it came to the illusive rafayel. 

“this is something a child would do,” he scoffed, brushing his finger across the still-drying fins of your poor fish. “this may be a trial practice before the real thing, sure. but it’s no excuse to show no effort. you’ll get a 50 for this if it gets moderated.”

a pass. barely. those charming purple-blue eyes scanned your solemn face before he glided off to the next sculpture, immediately grazing the artist. but not as badly as he did with you. 

you stared at your little fish, its form now scorned with the assault of his graceful, well maintained finger. for someone so effortlessly handsome, he was such a bitch. and you weren’t afraid to say it out loud. in fact, you did. 

it came out as a mumble low enough not to be heard. yet he somehow did. those ethereal eyes glanced at you momentarily as if he acknowledged it, and a small grin curved on his lips.

you wouldn’t say you were accustomed to his ‘bullying’. however, it wasn’t the first time he’d pick on you. during the theory-based lectures, rafayel would turn his attention to you, poking and prodding you endlessly for the historical accounts of artists that you didn’t know existed. then he’d ask you – mind you, only you – which techniques should be used with which equipment for whichever type of painting style that came up in that stupidly pretty mind of his. that extensive mind covered and protected by a mane of purple wavy hair. 

you had often wondered how soft his hair would be. and what his hands would feel like in yours. soft? calloused? he was always well dressed, adorned in expensive garb, always appearing in ways that would have any passerby fall madly in love.

he must have been some kind of siren. you were almost lucky you weren’t damned to hear his voice live. 

but the picking and scolding was becoming unbearable. you were beginning to question your worth in the class. you knew you had minimal experience from the get-go, and you never dishonoured yourself by lying or trying to fake it. 

with that being said, there’s only so much slander you can handle from not only your peers but your own professor before it becomes unbearable. eventually, like all straining predicaments, today was your inevitable breaking point.

you sat as you usually would, smack bang in the middle of the lecture hall, taking notes of whatever your professor said as quickly as possible. you took every word seriously, even if he repeatedly mentioned things like “you all should already know this,” or “which you should have learned from last year,”. 

you had worked diligently, listening and writing and occasionally glancing at the board to keep up, in a constant flow determined to finish the course well. up until the lecture hall fell quiet, followed by multiple rings of notifications, even your phone vibrated. 

and one by one, giggles erupted around you, gradually bursting into relentless chortles and laughs. the classmate seated beside you, showed you her phone revealing a devastating sight.

your trial sculpture, that was graded with a bare pass, was crushed and ruined before it could even dry. and right in front of the crime scene, stood a very familiar purple haired artist looking down on your besmirched work. his face was not fully clear in the image but you could see what you believed was a scowl. 

with blurring vision, blinded by your tears scorching your eyes, you raised your gaze to rafayel and the professor’s face masked no shame, no grief, no remorse, just confusion. almost like he didn’t realise what had taken place. 

but he must have. especially if he gave you such a low grade. your teeth ground and pressed against each other, forcing a tick in your jaw. you watched his face slowly contort in a slight realisation of what was happening. he stepped forward, his plump lips slowly split to speak but your things were already packed in your back and you were on your feet, ready to leave.

to make matters worse, the exposure clearly wasn’t enough to embarrass you. of course you had to sit in the middle of your row and stumble out under the sharp, scrutinising gaze of your peers. their snickers, hisses, and cruel whispers did not fall deaf to your ears. you absorbed them like a sponge, your face hardening more and more.

if it meant saving the last few threads of your dignity, you’d keep your head high. you stormed down the stairs, not sparing anyone a glance to push the doors wide open marking your escape. 

and by your word, that was the last time you would ever touch that lecture theatre for the rest of the year.

“i shouldn’t have bothered with that course,” you hissed, stabbing your fork into a fresh pastry. “i should have dropped it when i had the chance.”

it had been three weeks since that embarrassing event. you kept your word to yourself and didn’t bother going to the lectures or the studio sessions. your absence initially did not go unnoticed. as expected, your more confident peers would occasionally tease you or laugh behind your back to get a kick at you. fortunately you knew better than to bite back. 

like clockwork, the whispers dulled into eventual silence and you were at peace for once in the last few months. good riddance.

“you need to go back to your lectures.” zayne, a close companion of yours, muttered as he reached to have another piece of cake. that would be his third slice in the last hour. “your prac is in less than a week.”

“you’ve got a med lab tomorrow and yet you’re here for a limited cake.” you scoffed, watching his eyes light up in delight from the bursting flavour of chocolate mixing with vanilla. you wondered if he would have the same reaction with a carrot cake. mind you, he was likely going to be your future doctor.

“that handsome dickhead thinks he can almost fail my trial and then destroy it?” stab, stab, stab went your fork until it made the table shake. zayne swiftly held his plate up to protect his cake. “does he think i won’t report it to the dean?”

honestly, if you did there was a high chance you wouldn’t succeed. with rafayel’s reputation and the allegations of his donations to the university, you were more likely to be bullied into either apologising to rafayel for causing a ruckus or you’d be forced into silence. judging by the look on his face, zayne seemed to have the same idea.

“it’s only a month left of this crap. i’ve just got the prac and i can put all of it behind me. besides,” you stabbed the pastry again, visualising it as that stupid professor of yours. again and again, you stabbed until you felt it would reach your heart’s content. 

and then a striking idea seeped into your mind. what better revenge than to crush him too?

“besides?” zayne repeated with a raised brow. he held out his hand, waiting for you to explain yourself. 

“i have a plan.” your lips spread into a devilish grin. zayne cringed at the sight. he knew that face well. and it only meant trouble was near. “i’m going to make a sculpture of him. dying terribly.”

“isn’t that unethical?”

“i saw someone make a sculpture of their dick, i’ll be fine.”

your alarm went off abruptly, bringing your mind back to your revenge plot. you had already started creating rafayel’s annoyingly perfect head, using pictures you found of him online as a reference. 

you were supposed to do it at the studio, but one of your senior art friends let you use their private room to prepare it. you would do anything if it meant you’d never have to see him more than you had to. after that stunt he pulled, he’d never get the chance to make fun of you again.

you quickly said your goodbyes to zayne – quickly swiping a bite from his cake – and rushed back to the art faculty, beelining straight to the private studios. you mind buzzed with images of you drowning rafayel in the ocean, watching him gracefully swim with fishes, of you burning him alive, of him seducing you with his looks and his tragically angelic voice as his bare form lay for you to replicate with clay– 

a mere pause wasn’t enough for you to gauge what you were just thinking about. those juxtaposing thoughts had your hand on the wall to hold you upright in case you toppled over from your breath being wheezed right out of you.

since when did you find him that hot?

in all honesty, it wasn’t a lie. rafayel’s an insanely attractive man. truly, if you weren’t more reserved with your attraction to him, you’d probably tried to shoot your shot like all the other desperate people in your class. 

his skin was almost pale like he had spent his entire life underwater, clear and soft and constantly emphasising his damn perfect features. not to mention the moles all over him. it was only up to your imagination what everything beneath his clothing was like. perhaps he hid his muscles well under his clothing.

you quickly shook your head, swatting away those mischievous thoughts about him. those visions of him kissing you, and painting you– fuck.

you deeply inhaled, filling your lungs with as much air as you could muster. your eyes fluttered shut, holding back the profanities brewing deep in your throat.

“that damned–“ within an instant your centre of gravity was toppled and travelled to your arm, which was bring dragged by an almost inhumane amount of strength. 

you couldn’t look at who was pulling you without completely losing your balance and toppling over. you stumbled as your dragger’s pace sped up until you were yanked into complete darkness except the small ceiling lamp dimly illuminating the small space.

as your vision adjusted, you observed the room noting a second heavy breath outside of your own. you felt for whatever was close to you. soft bristles, cold metallic cylinders, the overwhelming smell of chemicals. of paint. this was the supply room.

“where were you?” a siren’s melody swam into your ears like water clearing out the impurities from your hearing. rafayel.

you swiftly turned to face him, following his voice. and fuck damn.

he was disheveled. like, roughed up like he ran all the way across campus just to find you. that dumb big chest of his rose up and down las if a child was using it as a trampoline. small beads of sweat dripped down the opening of his button-up shirt to his abdomen, hidden by silk. 

he asked again. “where were you.” less of a question this time, more like a statement.

“that isn’t any of your business.” your eyes narrowed in scrutiny. why would he care?

“it is my business.” he protested, stepping towards you. instinctively, your legs took you an equivalent step back. this was reminding you too much of those cliche scenes– and they only ended in two ways.

to be frank, you wouldn’t have minded the more action-based ending. you may hate the man but that didn’t mean his face wasn’t pretty.

again and again he draws near and close, and again and again does the space between you and the cabinet full of paint grow smaller and smaller. your tongue slipped out, lubricating the small cracks forming on your dry lips.

a small groaned erupts in the room, rafayel slapped his hand over his mouth and halted in his steps. those purple-blue irises rolled back for a millisecond then returned both hazed and dilated. you tugged at the collar of your shirt, your body warming up the more you brought air into your lungs. 

he was acting weirdly. was it the smell of paint? 

“you haven’t been attending classes.” you couldn’t help but laugh. since when was that his concern? “it will affect your final mark.”

“i’ve checked the handbook,” you scowled. yes, you took the time to read the handbook in depth to make sure you weren’t going to get screwed for skipping lectures. “attendance is recommended but optional.”

pink slowly tinted his cheeks under the dim light, contradicting the enraged look on rafayel’s face– almost a bit too similar to the face he made when he scrutinised your sculpture. your lips twitched, almost exposing your smug satisfaction.

truly, you had no reason to be in his class anymore other than the fact that you had given too much of your time to it already. all those sleepless nights, those days of endurance, those moments of temptation– temptation to walk out the door and never turn back. you wanted it. you often felt that you desperately needed it. 

but you knew better. your friends knew better. in those three weeks of your absence zayne persisted in ensuring you finished what you started, whether it was forcing you to work or giving you moral support by making his own botched version of whatever assignment you had to complete. though it did end up helping him when it came to making notes on anatomy. 

you’ve had endless mounds of support in those three weeks. where you felt like absolute shit. where you wanted to just hide. where you were almost willing to drop out.

fucking rafayel wasn’t going to take that away from you. you had nothing to lose. and he wasn’t going to plague you any longer.

“so if you think dragging me into this supply room will do anything, it’ll only get you into a very dangerous meeting with the dean.” you harshly grinned, waving your phone in your hand. rafayel’s eyes slowly widened upon seeing what was displayed on the screen.

you were recording the conversation. you had been since you got tugged away.

“no donations and pretty artworks can take away the blow of harassment,” your phone rested on top of a can of paint on the floor as you glided towards him in a new air of confidence and spite. “professor.”

his response was disappointing. literally, he said and did nothing. like a marbled statue purely there to be admired. damn him, he was so unnecessarily handsome on a godly level. those disrespectful plump pink lips parted and closed as if trying to figure out what words to spout. 

your smile twitched in agitation under his gaze scanning you from your hair to your skintight top pronouncing your curves, and back up to your face. your stance remained rigid, head held high and face taut with wavering spite.

rafayel’s calmness as unsettling, too calculating for your own preference. “you bite your pen when you concentrate in lectures, did you know that?” his voice dropped an octave, reaching a husky flow. a shiver rolled down your spine as it arched in response to his voice. like a siren calling a damned sailor.

“what?” your disbelief came out in a choked whisper. the moisture in your throat was wiped clean from you, leaving complete dryness almost worse than a desert. 

“and you like to listen to the questions,” rafayel continued, moving closer to you in tandem with your rising pulse. his eyes were locked on yours, dragging you deeper into his abyss intending not to let you go. “you bite your lip whenever my voice deepens. and you always have questions but choose not to ask.”

he was getting too close. you were too close. the heat of his breath fanned your skin as his height forced you to raise your gaze to maintain your stare-off. something about it felt a little too hot for your liking. your skin prickled in sensitivity rubbing against the fabric of your clothing.

there was no way this was getting you aroused. no fucking way.

“do you know why you don’t ask?” his hand gripped the edge of the cabinet, just a few centimetres from your head. the distance between your lips slowly yet inevitably closed. your breath was trapped in your throat almost clawing for release but it remained trapped. 

“you’re scared.”

“i’m not afraid of drawing, rafayel.” first name basis already? you were really testing your luck. you expected him to return to that unsettling silence again before telling you that your suspension was pending.

instead, rafayel broke into a chuckle, sweat-slick chest and shoulders shaking as he laughed. he quickly straightened his lips upon seeing your eye twitch, only to burst into another fit of suppressed laughs. 

“who in their mind would be afraid of a bit of paint?” his voice returned to that familiar serene, light tone. the one that brought half the student body to its knees. “no, no, no. i’ve managed to reduce it to two things.” 

you instantly jerked back as far as you could – which wasn’t really that far because were already at your dead end – and balled your hand into a tight fist, ready to punch him square in the jaw. the side of your neck tickled with heat as his lips hovered by your ear.

“me, or the chance that you’ll do incredibly well.”

bewildered was an understatement. you were discombobulated at the least. you couldn’t even say it was a bizarre assumption because it was true. 

not the fact that you were afraid of rafayel– he’s a walking model who pouts whenever someone speaks to him with a bit more sass than him. even his relentless critique of you doesn’t illicit fear. the only thing he’s gained from that was you growing to despise him.

but your confidence in your artistic abilities were never high. remember, you only joined the course for your friend. and they ditched you last minute. you walked into the studio with the mindset of knowing that you were likely to fail even if you put your hardest work in. 

clearly, he noticed.

“you walked into my class knowing nothing,” rafayel leaned back to face your gaze once more with a stern look on his face. “it’s only understandable that you’d be afraid of messing it up. i can see it in your art. i can sense the fear.”

“yeah, right.” you huffed, turning your face away to blink away the stinging sensation burning your eyes. “you prefer to call it lazy and then destroy it.”

for the first time in however long its been since you were trapped in this room with him, rafayel’s facade broke. a flicker of guilt flashed in his gaze. then confusion.

“destroy?”

“don’t act coy.” he could not just play coy. “you destroyed my trial sculpture. there are pictures of it spreading everywhere. you know what you did.” 

rafayel slowly shook his head. “i found it like that,” his voice was grave, eyes almost darkened just from the memory. “i was trying to get a scope of the damage to see if i could redo it for you, but it was beyond repair.”

a grave heaviness weighed on your heart. he wanted to fix it? despite being so cruel to you he was that willing to repair your work on your behalf… but that didn’t answer the footage.

“and the picture?” what was meant to come out as a scrutinising hiss escaped as a whisper, holding back the many tears brewing in your eyes.

“i had heard giggles outside the studio, but they ran out before i could check.” his perfect brows furrowed as he observed you. it was more than just intuitive for him to comfort you, console your shock away. his hand reached to hold your arm, to transfer his remorse through his body’s warmth. “i am sorry about what happened to your sculpture. really.”

“don’t.” the involuntary pang in rafayel’s chest did not go unnoticed. his lungs filled with shaking air, unsure of how to proceed. you weren’t pushing him away nor were you hiding. it looked like you were equally as unsure.

“the mark you gave it–“ you seethed, voice cracking as the venom of your tongue delivered each words with malice. “the embarrassment. the shame it left me drowning in, all of it. it was you. and you think you can play innocent and ask why i haven’t shown up?”

rafayel’s fingers twitched, hovering over your skin hesitant to move away. perhaps he was too hard on you, too particular in his interest to monitor your growth in the arts. his face scrunched up, unsure of what you’d allow him to try without violating your space.

“you think you can use that stupidly pretty face to ask for forgiveness?” it was clearly intended to be a mumble that he wasn’t supposed to hear but he did. loud and clear. the tips of his ears instantly warmed and his brows rose.

“stupidly pretty face?” 

shit.

shit.

of course he heard you. of course he fucking heard you call him pretty. you just wanted to crawl into a pint of paint and choke on it until it filled your lungs with chemical pigment. and there was no way out of this too. rafayel quite literally had you trapped with his body. 

his tall, divinely sculpted, soft, gorgeous body. that artistically designed form that you’ve dreamt of touching, that you’ve touched yourself to in your quiet nights– not that you’d ever admit it to anyone let alone him.

warm, almost hot, fingers slide up your arm trailing the standing hairs on your skin. they rounded your shoulder and meeting with the fabric of your clothing, fondling it to check its quality. they reached higher, and hotter, slow and intentional feeling the curve of your throat until the pad of his thumb reached your chin, lifting it until your gaze found his. a raw, newfound level of unspoken, familiar need engulfed you— and you weren’t uncomfortable with it.

“you think i’m pretty?” that husk tone returned, tickling away your nerves replacing them with something more feral. 

“everyone does.” you huffed, trying to maintain the front of rafayel’s charms not affecting you. it was almost obvious to you both that you’d fallen in deep. 

and yet despite embarrassing yourself, rafayel refused to back down. his thumb’s touch on your chin roughened into a grip with his hand. a mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes. 

“say it again.”

it was either the way he said it or the way he looked at you while saying it. regardless, it left your core warm and throbbing with an unprecedented level of need. this was wrong but it felt so right.

you slowly swallowed. “say what?”

the distance between your lips slowly closed, bit by bit. “that i have a stupidly pretty face.”

“no.”

his soft laugh fanned your face like a warm, mint scented breeze. “say it.”

your eyes darted between his own, noting how unnatural yet befitting the colours mixes and emphasised his almost inhumane beauty. it used to sink you yet now you could tell he was starting to drown in yours.

“make me.”

an erratic charge surged between you like lightning striking a tense, hot night. rafayel softly tutted, shaking his head– almost desperate to shake off his unspoken desire to pursue this. to pursue you. his hands did not leave you though. his grip on your face returned to your neck, securing a gentle hold on the base of your exposed flesh, both soft and pulsating with nerves.

rafayel pressed his forehead on yours, your connection anchoring him to reality and restraining his needs. “tell me you think i’m pretty.” his eyes grew heavy with heat, hazing in and out of focus as they moved from your spit-slick lips, your eyes, and every distinguishable feature on your face.

in twisted, lewd synchrony, your lower lip found itself caught seductively in the bite of your teeth. the corners of your lips twitched like they wanted to expose your snarky grin. like your body wanted to show rafayel how you’ve dreamt of that moment.

you should be pushing him away. you should minutes ago. but you didn’t. you didn’t want to. your eyes fluttered shut as rafayel’s grip on your face tightened, finally pulling you both into the passionate embrace of your lips. 

the first contact was a shock, forcing you into a soft jolt. his lips were even softer than you imagined, his hands gentle yet crushing to keep you in his hold rubbing small circles on your skin with his thumb.

then the erratic hunger kicked in like a shot of vodka. your faces pushed deeper into each other almost desperate to keep yourselves deep in your embrace. your fingers tangled in his soft locks, your mind drowning in the flowing currents of his scent. 

lips waltzing in a push and pull fell into an intoxicating dance of tug and bite. it drove you insane until it was just too much. 

you slowly pulled your head back, still connected to him by his teeth latched onto your lower lip nibbling at your swollen flesh.

“this can’t be right.” you sighed against his lips, leaning your head back to catch some air without feeling like your face will get hotter. “we must be violating some code of conduct.”

that irritating chuckle escaped his lips again. “then push me away.”

you should have. you definitely should have. before you could even consider it you found your lips back on his, drooling tongue sweeping past the enclosure of his lips to meet his. it was hot and deliciously wet meeting in a careless fight to taste as much as your breaths could allow.

you rolled your hips against his– slight and subtle– just enough to feel a slight brush of him. to feel it. he felt so big and thick. 

a sharp curse flooded your ears, his hands tugged at your waist to pull you closer and make you feel it. his fingers twitched and squeezed you, caressing your waist without abandon, rising ruthlessly higher until his hands disappeared under your shirt. he was boiling, a human inferno trapped in a body of flesh and bone restricted by restraint yet fuelled with hunger. 

they reached inchingly closer to the swell of your breasts, barely contained by your bra– you needed him to rip it off at this point. they curved over the lace and enclosed on each one, pulling your perked nipples out to fondle.

his tight hold on you dragged out a sound not meant to leave your lips. it was enough to make him snap. two hot bodies pressed to each other, clothing almost completely unravelled, and the door behind you still unlocked.

the air was thick and hot with heavy pressure and mutual need. 

a low grunt rumbled deep in rafayel’s throat as he pulled away from the intoxication that was your lips. “tell me to stop.” his lips ghosted over your skin, dragging a light trail of your mixed saliva down your neck until it stopped with a gentle peck. “tell me to walk away.”

“fuck no.” you panted. your hand tugged at his soft hair, pushing him deeper into your neck. “finish what you started.”

he laughed against your skin, marvelled by how much wittier you became when you weren’t tense. when you were fogged in temptation. he could only imagine how much more of you he’d experience the further down his lips went.

perhaps you tasted just as good as you smelt. his knees buckled at the thought, the mere sight of his eyes looking up to you as you lost composure was as unprofessional as it could get. his cock throbbed in his slacks, pumping so loudly he could barely hear himself breathe.

still gripping your fleshy mounds, rafayel sunk beneath your gaze never breaking contact with your beautiful eyes. one hand slowly crept down out of the warmth of your shirt to your alarmingly short skirt.

it was the third time he had seen you wear it since you joined his class. and every time his eyes were attached to you more than before. the vision of raising it above your pretty ass had always crossed his mind but he always had the mind to maintain decorum. the sea must have blessed him with this privilege today.

“need to eat you,” he whispered into your skin, spreading kisses all over you like invisible marks of his name. “taste you.”

your imagination conjured many things for you to indulge in, but this was beyond what even you could dream of. his glossy gaze, deliberate hot touch, his damned soft lips searing you with his affections… how could you say no?

your head hit the edge of the cabinet as you nodded in desperation, so needy for his mouth to explore you everywhere, so aroused that nothing could hold you back from sinking deeper and deeper. your legs slowly split apart, welcoming rafayel’s gentle hand with grace.

completely sat on the floor, the professor stared at your legs in a daze of reverence and worship. he was salivating the scent of your dripping pussy reeling him in like a fish swimming to bait. and he wouldn’t even consider himself damned if it meant being hooked by you.

his grip tightened on your thigh, fingers pressing into you to memorise your shape and how you felt by his touch. his hand slid down your leg in a great struggle to hold onto the last of his restraint while your pants and soft moans just made things so much worse.

“don’t make too much noise,” he quietly groaned, licking a line up your thigh up to the lacy panties covering your warmth. his eyes rolled back as your scent flooded his senses like a drug. in a fuss, rafayel pushed your skirt up revealing red lace. 

he almost came on the spot. 

his fingers slipped between the hem, feeling you up and down. he just had to go a bit further… just a little to get a taste of that sweet nectar. his eyes darted upwards to find you completely disheveled, pretty lips parted, chest heaving with your nipples pressed against your shirt, and your hands holding his head as close to your cunny as possible.

rafayel’s lips curved into a lustful smile and finally pushed his fingers further into your panties, brushing over your sensitive nub. a sharp gasp sounded in the room, his scalp ached from the harsh tug you forced on him before slowly pushing him back where he was.

you were so cute.

you didn’t feel cute. you felt like you were boiling up, throbbing to the point where it hurt, dripping like a fucking river. you were surprised your wetness wasn’t dripping down your legs already. rafayel was definitely the type to lick it up to prevent it going to waste.

his fingers crept around your clit, ghosting circles round and round in a teasing tickle almost like he wanted to pull a reaction out of you. every subtle reaction, every jolt and twitch, and every hesitant tug at his hair made his hips jut into the air with his cock roughly straining his slacks.

he tilted his head, lips enclosing around your clothed clit, swiping his tongue sloppily around you, loudly moaning at your taste. his fingers finally found your pussy, soaking before they even went inside you. you slapped your hand over your mouth. he was going to drive you insane.

loud squelches echoed around you with his fingers teasing and tapping your hole to draw out as much of your nectar as he could. your pussy lips were as swollen the lips he kissed and bit, sensitive to his finger sliding up and down before slowly plunging into you.

just as his lips parted more– a loud bang! shocked you both out of your trance of indulgence. you yelped and jerked back, pussy walls tightening around his fingers as he swiftly moved his head away from your core– a string of saliva connecting him to your clit cruelly reminding him how far he let his desire take him.

the shockwave of the noise sent the door rattling as if someone was about to walk in on you. rafayel adjusted your underwear back in place and tugged your skirt down, rearranging it so that you were somewhat presentable. your hands shakily fixed his messed hair in a sore attempt to ignore the aching need your pussy screamed to you.

your clothes stuck to your skin from the heat, your vision hazed by lust and interrupted pleasure so filthy and sinful that you couldn’t help but bite your lip. 

rafayel licked his lips as he rose to his feet, knees aching even though it felt like he had only been beneath you for seconds. he straightened his clothing, mustering the courage to face your gaze. you were dangerously close. dangerously beautiful. dangerously arousing. he just had to kiss you again. 

“i’ll deal with the person that damaged your sculpture.” his voice both husky and cracked still rumbled deep within you. “please forgive me and the incident.” 

without another word, he stalked out of the supply room leaving you to fully dissect what just happened.

he almost ate you out.

rafayel, your professor, almost ate you out. in a supply room. and he left you in need for so much more. a single step would send your poor clit, and your pussy really, into a frenzy– both sore and soaked, vibrating with pleasure. 

you were going to have to figure out how to deal with it.

but rafayel was determined to deal with it now.

he almost sprinted to his office, dizzy with lust. it was locked and dark with only candles giving him light. stacks of paper was spread out all over his desk left abandoned while he sat in front of his recent work– a completely blank canvas.

gods, his length was already leaking through his pants and aching so fucking hard that any subtle movement would have him cumming for hours.

rafayel didn’t bother removing himself with the delicacy of taking care of himself properly. his hands fumbled at the buckle of his belt, fingers slipping out of control before he could tug it off and toss it to the floor.

his vision was blurring him blind and abandoned him in the memory of your lips, your divine mixing scent, your melodic voice, and your taste. your noses had brushed and bumped into each other while his tongue ventured deep in your mouth, tasting the remains of the sweet pastry and bitter coffee you had consumed beforehand.

the office was somehow as hot as he was, the air burned with the fading remnants of your scent driving into a state of great distress. the zipper to his pants were already forced down from the sheer will of his cock raging and throbbing against its confines. he barely bothered himself with pulling them down, hurriedly gripping his girthy length both recklessly pulsating and near suffocating in dribbling precum.

his fingers rose to his lips, rubbing at the swollen effect of you attacking him with your teeth. it still stung from a light touch and that only aroused him more. his fingers were still sticky from caressing and plunging into your juicy cunny— explicitly reminding him how delicious you were.

without further thought, he pushing his digits on his salivating tongue and the flavours that were you burst into his senses like an inferno raging through a dry forest. rafayel’s eyes fluttered as they rolled back, a loud and deep moan soon to follow. 

“f-fuck.” he could just curse and curse for hours. “you did this to me.”

his tongue swirled between his fingers to absorb and savour as much of you as it could. he wasn’t too sure on whether he’d get the privilege to be so close to you again. he suckled on the tips of his finger like he would with that swollen clit of yours. fuck, you just somehow got a grip on him that he couldn’t shake off.

every moment he spent observing you just made him attach more and more even when he knew he shouldn’t have. but you intrigued him. your determination despite your lack of confidence. your thick skin in the face of his - often unnecessary - critique. 

not to mention of good your lips felt with his own. 

a shaky sigh shuddered out his lips as his hand slowly stroked up and down reaching to his base and tickling the leaky slit of his reddened tip. his hips jerked into his hand violently sending his head lolling back over the couch. 

the tandem rhythm of his hips remained constant, thrusting into the air and being squeezed tightly by his hand to simulate that jaw clenching strength your pussy walls used to grip on him. no matter how hard he’d try nothing would be able to replicate the effect you had on him. 

your name bouncing on the walls in an endless prayer turned to a song of moans and grunts. rafayel’s saliva-slick hand ran down his neck to his chest and slipped through his shirt to circle his perked nipples now rendered completely sensitive to even a breath.

while feeling each vine surrounding his cock pulsate, a lewd idea slithered into his mind like his most devious desires slipping right out to control him. he was so painfully hard it hurt. his clothes were sticking to his skin, dampened by his sweat and precum mixed together.

and then he raised his palm and struck it across his cock. smack! the sound struck through the room like thunder. 

a gasp, then a laugh, then another smack! followed by a husky moan.

the sting melted into rousing pleasure so instantaneously it almost gave him whiplash. he did it again.

smack!

and again.

smack!

up until the pain was enough to knock him unconscious. with each swing, his cock flew back upwards and jutted into the air shooting drops of precum up. rafayel bit his lip at the sight, greedily laughing at the pure slutty act he performed for himself. 

he could only dream for you to do the same thing.

his hand did not stop once it returned to stroking. the plap! plap! rapidly sounding as his hand fisted his cock to oblivion was disrespectfully slick. but it could be so much wetter. rafayel swiftly leaned over his length and spat straight onto his sobbing cockhead, pulling his hand right up to swirl and mix it all with his palm.

the wet friction alone was debilitating. he fucked himself into his hand like a rabid animal in intense heat, rutting like a fool drunken by a mere whiff of your scent. his hips lifted right off the couch, chasing his climax and hand that wasn’t even running from him– though could imagine you would.

“so– fucking– tight–“ he squeezed harder until his entire cock was red. the pain no longer affected him. his only devotion was hitting his edge in the hopes that it would feel like a fraction of what it would be like inside you.

inside your wet mouth, stretched wide open for him, drooling down your chin right onto your tits. or even inside your sweet cunny, throbbing and fluttering as your walls squeeze him with each thrust that tickles you to multiple orgasms.

“take it– take– oh fuck.” his voice cracked into a whiny whimper as his hands rolled over his leaking slit every time his hand brushed over his tip. the other hand continued to assault his chest, abusing his sensitivity to the max. 

the hand pumping his cock raised to smack it over and over, left and right in a broken tempo. his cock jumped, legs practically shivering from the pleasure and spreading wider and wider like you sat between them to take him deep in your mouth.

he couldn’t help himself. smack! the pain felt so good. smack! it was so wrong yet so stupidly right. smack! he’d do this for hours if he could. his core tightened, awaiting his incoming climax as his cock pulsed in a plea for him to stroke it to oblivion.

his grip became utterly brutal, rapidly pumping his shaft like his hand was a fucking fleshlight. he was messy, wet, and his lewd mixture of fluid was dripping down his legs onto the couch beneath him, staining and soaking the fabric. he twisted his hand right at the tip shocking his senses beyond the board.

he brought his hand to his tongue, lapping up all the precum sitting so impolitely on him, swallowing every drop like sacred water. his free hand slid down to finish what he started and rubbed and stroked with the intention to push him right to the end.

his body tensed as one more cruel squeeze snapped the tight thin rope within him. his eyes crossed, seeing only pure white. his breath hitched, and thick ropes of hot, sticky cum shot up like rockets and splattered all over him like fallen paint.

moans and whimpers shivered out of him like a broken record, your name remained mixed within his curses. his hand didn’t stop its relentless strokes. it persisted in dragging him through his high no matter how many times he’d try to stop himself. 

his cock ached and weeped, leaking hot white all over his hand as it gradually slowed. it had gone right up to his chin. rafayel lowly groaned, both fucked out and ruined beyond comprehension. ruined by his own hand and the thought of what more you could have done in that supply room.

rafayel raised his shaking hand to his face, analysing the way it glistened over his flushed skin. his tongue poked out of his lips and swiped all the way up from his wrist to the tip of his finger then took it deep inside. the flavour of his own juices mixed with your own, drawing a lustful moan from him.

he slurped it all up, licking his hand completely clean in an obscene and deliberate manner. like he was putting on a show for you, even though you weren’t actually there, and swallowed it all with great satisfaction.

he slouched into the couch, breath still laboured and heavy. he was still filthy and drenched and yet he still had the greed for so much more. 

that beautiful laugh replaced the echoes of his lewd noises once his high slowly dissipated. 

all that from a kiss?

rafayel was fucked.

might just post a calm part ii if you guys like it

[rottingghosty]

The Ghostling of Space | DC X DP

i’m working on the next part of the realms pr au trust me i am but i got this tiktok my fyp and suddenly i’m thinking of a NEW au for dc x dp. video is at the end i came up with this at 2am (like usual) so there will be errors

prompt: Danny’s the Ancient of Space, he spends most of his time floating around space because he’s on a vacation by his council to enjoy his life as a baby ghostling and a young prince since he’s still too young to rule so he has someone as a regent (not sure who yet). So he’s just going around, passing various planets and solar system. He’s essentially swimming around because he looks more like a mer than a human.

Danny should’ve realized that someone was going to notice him at some point, he didn’t realize it’d be a few years after Clockwork had spat him out in this universe. He’d been enjoying his time witnessing the birth of stars, of nebulas being born and the death of a solar system. The universe he was in made his core thrum with life, he’s gotten to feed it heavily that it puts his main obsession on the back burner. He skims his finger tips through the stardust of a star that had been born, molding and shaping it until it joins its brethren to form a constellation for the planet he was curled around.

The planet had no life yet but he knew that would change one day, he could feel its core yawning and turning. It’d get its push once Life had the opportunity to focus on it and breathe into the core. He was balance, his essence seeping into the planet’s core as he does his part of aiding the formation of a baby solar system. His body twists as he swims languidly through the vaccum as he does flips and turns. Moving through space with his newly formed tail felt like he was in the ocean, the movement so naturally and freeing.

It’d been when he finally drifted away from it and towards the Earth that was so similar to his back in his own universe he could never return that someone picked up his presence.

It’d been when he finally shrunk from his rather large size to something relatively smaller as he curled around a moon near Uranus. Away from any prying eyes as he allows himself to drift off into sleep.

It’d take someone to had been looking at one of Uranus’ moons to realize that something was curled around one, something large and green.

Captain Marvel could only stare in awe at the figure that curled around one of the moon’s of Uranus. The figure was beautiful, pale green skin that seemed to glow before dimming and brightening again. They seemed eel like if the way they seemed to move their body to curl around the moon of Titania. Where legs would have started, instead goes into an void of darkness, with a green glow that was a sickeningly shade of bright green that dimmed and brightened.

It was beautiful as it was eerie. The glow seemed to start from the hips and continued down its sides and tail, the fins flaring every time the creature seemed to breathe. A fin from at the top of the spine and continued down the entire back until it reached a stop before the end of its tail.

Captain Marvel knew that the other members in the Justice League were in awe just as he is, something about this being screamed otherworldly. It screamed magic and it made him very being thrum with energy he’s never felt before. He wanted to say something, to speak about what would be the best course of action to take to see if this being was a friendly or a hostile. Before he could even say a word, Constantine released a curse.

“Why is there a bloody baby ghost of the Infinite Realms here?”

TLDR: danny is very much a baby ghost prince living his life watching everything in space and making new things. he’s basically the equivalent of a baby god playing toys (planets and solar systems) and has no idea that he’s giving the JL and JLD a heart attack because oh my god that’s a baby ghost. but also OH MY GOD THAT’S THE BABY GHOST OF THE HIGH KING. still unsure who takes on the role for danny, pandora? cw? frostbite? a random oc? i know people use jazz as a regent but shes like a teen and deserves to live her life without having to deal with ghostly duties.

now danny’s got these people wanting to care for him cause he’s just out in the open in space and they don’t want the high king to get upset if their son is hurt.

(clockwork finds it very funny because if anything, they have to worry about upsetting anyone who danny deems as his)

[fanaroff]

Dp x DC Prompt: Space Like An Ocean

An alien had taken up residence outside of the Watchtower. Its first appearance immediately started a panic with most of the heroes that could survive in space converging on the station to see whether it was friend or foe. In the end, it did not seem either.

In fact, it seemed fine with just basking and napping wrapped around parts of the Watchtower that made up the outside. It wasn’t the size of the Watchtower, but off and on it was a very near thing.

Humanoid, yet distinctly inhuman. White whispy hair sat atop its head, pointed ears, and the only feature that could be made out of its face were two bright green glowing eyes. A color that sent Batman into a research frenzy. Its skin was void-dark. Almost looking as if a piece of space itself had separated from the cosmos and took and almost snake-like form. Or maybe an eel?

The most notable thing about the creature were its injuries. Multiple lacerations covered it, leaking a green that never touched the Watchtower and seemed to evaporate not long after leaving its body. Any silent attempts to collect it for study and to figure out what it was were met with emotionless green eyes and a bare hint of fang. They backed off quickly.

Flash liked to call it a mer-eel. “Cause it’s got an almost human torso, two arms, and the rest just kind of curls up!”

Wonder Woman was unimpressed with this. “That would suggest it is more like a naga.”

To which Green Lantern replied, “No, no, he’s right. There’s an almost white fin-like bit that goes down the tail like an eel’s does.”

Any more attempts to identify the creature led to nothing and soon the “eel” became a silent fixture of the Watchtower.

It was ages later when Zatanna entered the Watchtower to discuss a completely non-connected case when she stumbled immediately upon leaving the Zeta Tube and had to lean against a wall, breathing heavily.

“Something feels like Death.” Was all she could get out before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she dropped to the ground. She wouldn’t wake up, dead asleep. Immediate worry all around lead to Justice League Dark being contacted in full.

Constantine with Deadman in tow were ultimately the ones to solve the mystery. It took but a moment for Deadman to be seen thanks to Constantine’s “magic” and awe was the first thing apparent on his face. Deadman didn’t even need to leave the Watchtower to know what it was.

“Oh,” he whispered like a prayer. “So that’s where he goes when he takes a break.”

Queue questioning.

“He” turned out to be Phantom, the Ghost King who had apparently decided the Watchtower was a perfect basking spot. Confusion was abound at this.

“No, see,” Deadman tried to explain. “He has two Obsessions and the Watchtower feeds into both. Heroes who protect, as he is a protector spirit himself and probably feels a kinship, and space.”

Constantine and Deadman explained as best as they could, but when the questions finally settled, the last was “Why isn’t Constantine affected like Zatanna? Why aren’t the rest of them affected like Zatanna?”

“That’s easy!” Deadman piped. “None of you are attuned to death magic! I’m a ghost, he’s my King. Zatanna is a magician with experience in most magics. And Constantine doesn’t own enough of his soul to feel the death!”

In the end, a request from Deadman was all it took for things to change. With barely a rumble, Phantom pulled himself from the Watchtower and drifted far enough away for his aura to no longer affect Zatanna. The heroes could only watch in awe as the eel-like god returned to the open ocean of space.

Addition:

There were a giant green eyes observing the conference room. Every hero inside was frozen in place, staring back at the eyes and trying their best not to move a muscle. Phantom had moved from atop the station. Phantom had acknowledged them. Phantom was staring at them from a window of the Watchtower.

No one knew why he was there. Just that suddenly he was. The bright green lighting the entire room with its shine was the only warning they got. They stared. He stared.

Slowly, he moved. A hand-shape pointed with a claw. They were confused. The hand made a pointing motion again.

The table?

Ah. Several shards of kryptonite sat on the table. The topic of the discussion as someone had somehow gotten ahold of the shards and used them against Superman. They needed to know who supplied them.

The hand pointed again.

Why did Phantom want the shards?

Apparently, it wasn’t up to them to question as the pointing hand phased into the room, palm up. Waiting. No one moved for a moment until a white narrowed slit formed in Phantom’s eyes.

Green Lantern was quick to grab the shards (Batman made a token protest, those were his damn it) and placed them in the palm. He shivered as his finger brushed the skin, ice cold washing up and down his spine.

The hand closed, retracted and approached the face. The eyes stared as a large mouth opened (fangs, sharp sharp fangs laid in green) and a tongue popped out. The shards were placed on the tongue and the mouth closed with a sharp crunch.

Phantom grinned almost smugly before he drifted away from the window and back to the top of the Watchtower.

“Did- Did Phantom just ask for a snack?”

[p-seduonym]

Switched At Birth (Part Four)

A/N: I lied. I'm posting cause I'm bored. Also, since I've been getting mixed reactions, I might make the relationship between Mel and Reader ambiguous. Melissa will love Reader, that's a fact. But you can decide if it's familial, platonic, or romantic.

Taglist (I'll add you if you ask)@luludeluluramblings, @von-jour, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @kenyummy, @bunniotomia

Yandere!Batfam X Switched! Fem! Reader X Yandere!Wayne!OC

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

You stood out, just outside the gates of Gotham Prep.

Baggy jeans, a sweatshirt repping some nondescript band, and a backpack slung over one shoulder.

You could feel the passing glances from the sea of uniformed students as they spilled through the gates. Some whispered. Others brushed past without a second thought. The security guard who’d been watching you from a distance finally approached, making idle chit-chat.

“Hey, how’re you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Waiting for someone?”

“Yeah.”

Just as he was about to ask you to move along, Melissa appeared. She looked flustered, hesitating a few feet away from the both of you. Before she could say anything, you called out.

“Hey, Mel!” Sauntering over, you threw an arm around her shoulder. She jumped slightly.

“W-Why are you….”

“C’mon.”

You flashed the security guard a smile like you belonged here, then steered Melissa away from the gawking crowd.

“Where are we going?” she hissed—wary, but not resisting.

“Somewhere fun,” you said. “C’mon, quit acting like I’m kidnapping you or something, Mel.”

“You ambushed me outside of school,” she pointed out flatly.

“That’s such an ugly way to put it. I told you I’d be around, didn’t I?”

“T-That was a week ago! I thought you were joking.”

In all seriousness, you lied: “I never joke.”

After a beat of silence, Melissa sighed.

“I haven’t even told anyone I left”

“Then text them? You aren’t flaking on me, are you?”

She looked confused, like the idea never crossed her mind.

“No…”

“Then let’s go” 

And with that you were off.

Truth be told, Melissa rarely set foot in malls.

To her, they were nothing more than glittering temples of consumerism—designed to guide you from one impulse buy to the next, all while drowning your existential dread in a wash of piped-in pop.  

But she kept that to herself. You looked like you were having fun.

“Forever 21’s on its way out, so let’s see if we can score some deals! There are also a couple thrift shops a block over—best prices, promise.”

Melissa blinked. It was like you were speaking another language. The overly peppy music thumping from the ceiling speakers didn’t help.

“Thrift store?” she echoed.

“You know? Secondhand clothes?”

“Oh.”

“Mel, you’re missing out, I swear.”

She fidgeted. “It’s not like I ever had a reason to go to places like that…”

It was true. Her father had handed her a black card, and that was the end of it. Luxury brands never interested her, but she didn’t know anything else.

“Well, now you do. I swear, Prada’s got nothing on a good thrift find—oh, look!”

You held up a gingham dress against her, tilting your head thoughtfully. She flushed under your gaze.

“Not the best color, but an A-line cut looks great on you. Let’s see if they have other colors. What do you like?”

“Any is fin—”

“If you say ‘any,’ I’m pinching you.”

Her mouth snapped shut, startled.

“C’mon. What colors do you like?”

She paused. What did she like?

Normally, she’d say something neutral. Tasteful. Nothing too loud—Waynes didn’t do loud. But she wasn’t a Wayne. Not really. Not ever.

“…Bright colors,” she said, almost to herself. “I like stuff that’s bright.”

Something to cut through the gray.

“I knew it! Something light would totally suit you. Hey, there’s a pink one—what do you think?”

You held it out to her.  It looked mostly polyester and popped out against the darkness of her uniform.

“Some kitten heels and you’re golden.” You assured her, already scanning the shelves to find just that. 

It was kind of embarrassing that she didn’t realize straight away. Of course, you’d go shopping. What other use did she have outside of her purse. Well, it wasn’t hers, per se, but that's besides the point.

It seems you just want to take advantage of the opportunity.

She couldn't fault you for that. Many people tried in the past, before they realized she didn’t have much worth outside of her wealth.

That’s what she thought as she approached the counter with her black card in hand. Until you stopped her.

“Hey, woah, what’s that for? I got it covered— don’t worry!”

Really, this fake courteousness was a little stale.

“It’s fine” She assured you, but you didn’t budge.

“I’m serious. I’ve been saving up anyway.”

Melissa paused. The cashier was looking between the two of you.

“Think of it as a gift, okay?”

She would have argued– maybe– but you had already pushed her aside gently and rung up the clothes.

It was such a simple gesture—one that shouldn’t have meant anything. A thrifted dress, a stubborn insistence to pay. But for Melissa, it lingered. The ease with which you offered kindness, the way you brushed off her protests like it was nothing—it all struck somewhere deep, somewhere soft she didn’t like to acknowledge. She told herself it didn’t matter. That you were just another person trying to be nice for the sake of appearances. But something about you felt different. And that terrified her more than she’d admit.

Because Melissa was used to pity.

She had seen it in the too-long glances of strangers, in the hushed whispers they thought she couldn’t hear. In the way people softened their words when breaking bad news—another broken promise, another inevitable disappointment.

Pity clung to her like a second skin. When it started, she couldn’t remember. Maybe when they said her mother had “passed”—such a gentle way to say she’d overdosed in some seedy club. The mourners at the funeral were nearly drowned out by the snapping shutters of paparazzi, lingering just far enough back to seem tactful. Still, their heavy gazes never wavered from her tiny shoulders.

That was the first time she realized she hated that feeling.

But it couldn’t be helped. She was just… a pitiful person.

Mournful eyes. Pathetic demeanor.

So she got used to it.

Used to her peers staring when her father missed another recital. Used to Alfred gently informing her she'd be dining alone again. Used to the sympathetic nods from teachers who knew better than to ask about her weekend.

Used to being passed over in favor of her siblings—until some throwaway tabloid decided to spotlight “The Forgotten Daughter of Gotham’s Billionaire.” Once in a while, they remembered her. They crafted stories about the sad little girl in the big empty mansion, as if they knew anything. As if they cared.

Melissa learned early: people loved tragedies. But they didn’t care.

Pity was worthless. But it was all she had.

And even now, she was sure you pitied her. How could you not? The poor little rich girl—born with a silver spoon, but not a drop of love.

Yes, you pitied her.

And yet… she couldn’t bring herself to hate you for it.

Why else would you offer her your whole world? Your family, your home—everything that was yours, you shared like it was nothing. Without even thinking.

Okay, maybe part of her did resent it. That you showed her—so casually—all the things she’d been robbed of. Family dinners. Petty arguments. Noise. Mess.

What gave you the right to pity her when you were the odd one out? The misfit. The one who didn’t belong.

And still… she couldn’t hate you.

Because you were different.

You were kind.

Even with the sharp eyes and polished exterior of a true Wayne, you chose to be kind.

Not performatively, not out of guilt. Just… because you could. 

Melissa hadn’t known what to make of that at first. She kept waiting for the catch—for you to ask for something, for the mask to slip. But it never did. You tittered with a joy that could only be genuine as you observed her. 

“C’mon, let’s get some BatBurger– it’s in the food court over there. Then I can do your colors– I’m betting you're a spring and–” As you chattered on, you laced your arm with hers and walked forward.

Melissa had been surrounded by ghosts her whole life. Ghosts of people who left, ghosts of promises never kept.

But you weren’t a ghost. You were real. Solid. Warm.

And for the first time in forever, she didn’t feel pitied. She felt seen.

Loved? No. Not yet.

But maybe… Maybe she was starting to understand what that could feel like.

@GothamGal96 Just saw Melissa Wayne at a thrift store?? With some girl in cat socks?? 2025 is wild already 😭🛍️ #GothamSightings 🕐 1:42 PM · Apr 5, 2025 · Gotham Eastside

Reply to @GothamGal96 @mallratmayhem not cat socks 😭😭 she’s converting the billionaire one meme sock at a time 🕑 1:48 PM · Apr 5, 2025

@urbancryptid melissa wayne looked like a deer in headlights when that girl held up a pink dress to her. rich people rly don't know what polyester is huh 🕓 4:17 PM · Apr 5, 2025 · Near Clocktower Market

Reply to @urbancryptid @fauxfurfemme melissa was probably like “what’s a price tag?” 🕓 4:23 PM · Apr 5, 2025

@CoffeeAndChaos ngl it was kinda cute watching that Wayne girl try to argue over who pays for a $12 dress. Money can’t buy stubborn friends I guess 😂💳💥 🕝 2:31 PM · Apr 5, 2025 · Midtown Gotham

Reply to @CoffeeAndChaos @thriftybaddies this is what late-stage capitalism meant actually 🕜 2:35 PM · Apr 5, 2025

@batbratblog melissa wayne looked so awkward at the checkout… like she didn’t know what to do with her hands 😭 the other girl just smiled and paid like a pro. power move tbh. 🕖 7:03 PM · Apr 5, 2025 · Gotham Mall District

Reply to @batbratblog @chaoscrochet she held her card like it was a weapon and the other girl just hit her with ✨emotion✨ 🕖 7:08 PM · Apr 5, 2025

@thegothamsocial Spotted: The Forgotten Wayne Daughter™ being human for once?? 👀 Thrift shopping with a girl who clearly gives no f’s about her last name. Friendship goals or PR stunt?? 🤔 🕘 9:14 PM · Apr 5, 2025 · Gotham Heights

Reply to @thegothamsocial @gossipgargoyle i kinda hope it’s not PR. she looked… real? like, not camera-ready real. mascara smudge and everything. 🕘 9:21 PM · Apr 5, 2025

@pennyworthtruthers okay but the way that girl just knew melissa liked bright colors??? 👀👀 that’s not just friends behavior I fear 🕥 10:48 PM · Apr 5, 2025 · Gotham Northside

Reply to @pennyworthtruthers @roomtempteablog this is the slowest burn enemies-to-besties arc i didn’t know i needed 🕚 10:53 PM · Apr 5, 2025

@chaoticneutralvibes melissa wayne walking out of a thrift store looking like she just survived emotional whiplash… girl. blink twice if you’re being socialized against your will 💀💅 🕤 3:09 PM · Apr 5, 2025 · Old Quarter

Reply to @chaoticneutralvibes @thisisfinebat melissa walking like her soul just updated its firmware. girl’s emotionally rebooting in public 🕤 3:15 PM · Apr 5, 2025

[sleepy-fiction]

Eleven Weeks.

sebastian solace x gn!reader

syn: Your ex-coworker, Sebastian, suddenly comes back from the dead, completely strange and anew. You go to see him and realize how different he had become since you left urbanshade. Can you accept him as he is now? Will he allow you to?

tags: predator/prey, suggestive but no actual sex, fluff, heavy comfort fic, there are no gendered terms for reader, sebby has an ex-wife (Zaara)

a/n: eleven weeks by vansire was on repeat in my mind as I wrote this! tysmm for the love on my last seb fic, my hearts really gonna burst!! but in this fic seb escaped and is now working w the FBI to build his case. Also to clarify pls this is no diss on zerum

5K WORDS

read part 2

🛋🦈🐍🐋

You remember it.

The soft tan skin, the way his mouth would crinkle up and flash his pearly, straight teeth. You remember the barreling laughter, the prompt scolding. You remember the soggy bags under his eyes, you remember his sullen tears.

You remember it all, because he was human back then.

But now.

Your eyes shake as you stare at him now.

He's large, maybe even ten feet tall now. His large tail takes up almost the entire room. The room was guarded by the military. The "men-in-black" you had to go through just to get to him was proof that this all was real. That Sebastian had become something... He became something different.

His skin was no longer beautifully golden, instead, he was now blueish with scales, fins, and tails. He now has three eyes. Three eyes. No longer those Obsidian pearls, now they're abnormally large, blue orbs. And his hands were now three shivering claws, claws that shook intensely, waiting for you to do something - anything.

Say something.

Scream if you have to.

But you took your sweet time inhaling everything about him bit by bit. Pne feature at a time.

Minutes went by of you quietly staring at him, your shoulders tense, your fingers fidgeting together.

Weren't you going to yell?

Weren't you going to cry?

Weren't you going to do anything?

Please do something.

It broke him.

Sebastian abruptly squealed out an intense sob, his large hands covering his lips as he hunched over in shame. The wounded cry came straight from his belly, sounding as if the fiber of his very being was split into twos. He bowed his head more and more, trying his hardest to muffle his sprung cries. You couldn't let him be so alone like this. You, swept up by the bitter sounds, launched yourself forward, grabbing whatever you could reach: the coat sleeve on his smaller arm.

He pawed at his eyes with his large blue claws, and your lip quivered helplessly. He tried to pull away, but it was like the strength in him was gone. The spark, the everything. When you first walked in, he didn't say hello. His face, body, his soul had already lost its vigor. Simply going through the motions.

What should you say?

Your eyes flicker between the ones he covered from you. Your grip on his sleeve grew intense.

You thought he was dead.

When the news broke about his crimes against Urbanshade, you couldn't believe it. Worst of all, you went able to stick around long enough to find out because your contract ended. You couldn't tell anyone back home about anything that happened in Urbanshade legally. You alone had to bear it.

You spent years stuck in limbo, wondering what conclusion- what punishment they'd draw up fof him.

Then you heard about that "freak accident" that left Urban Shade abandoned.

You were alone.

Despite it all, here was here.

Alive.

Breathing.

But God, looking at him, he had gone through it worse. Not just physically.

You swallowed thickly, unable to keep your own tears back. But you smiled. You couldn't help this weird budding joy that sprang up in your chest, fondness that could kill even the sweetest bees. As morbid as it is to be happy right now, you finally got your buddy back. Your annoying coworker who corrected your work all the time was alive. He was someone to talk to - someone you could finally console in. Your smile was profoundly big as you gripped onto him.

Sebastian Solace.

You're really back.

Your grip loosened.

"Say something, damn you -" Sebastian couldn't finish his loud, spiteful curses when his eyes finally met your gaze. Your bubbling gaze. You were smiling with glassy eyes, a quiet sort of smile, the kind that makes the air around you taste sweeter. His face twisted in horror, frustration. Why were you smiling? How could you smile at him?

His family couldn't look at him.

His wife.

His own wife shook and trembled, and she cried out in fear of him. Not only that, he had to learn that she and everyone else moved on a go time ago. Worse than that, his sweet wife told him she started a family with another man.

What the fuck was he supposed to do.

He spent all those aching years to break free, hoping for everything to return back - only for it all to be worser out here than in Urbanshade. Back then, at least he had something to hope for, to hold on to.

Here? Nothing.

Mind numbing questions seared through his mind. Why the fuck did he have to suffer like this when he was so badly hurt? Why couldn't she stay loyal? Why did he look this way? Why did they do this to him? Why.

Why is no one accepting him but you?

Why are you being so insufferable?

It made his heart burn. And your soft, secure grip on him made it even hard for him to run away. Did you not want him to leave? His heart is burning with corrupted fondness. He wants you to. To...

To touch him a bit more.

He wants you to look at him a bit more.

He wants you. If you're going to be so kind about it, look at the other weird parts of him with those sweet eyes.

He needs it.

Remind him of the man he once was. Hes forgotten him.

Maybe the more you stare, you'll finally reject him. Confirm to him what the world has taught him. Or.

Or.

Just touch him a bit more.

Don't just stand there.

Don't just--

He suddenly remembers his voice. He croaks out the pitiful plea, "Don't... just. stand. there..."

The voice is commanding and terrifying, and it's proud and angry coming from such a large beast. His he trying to scare you off? If so, it's not working - hell you barely register his words.

Just the sound of his voice sends your heart fluttering.

Sebastian's alive.

You know he's been through so much worse, but.

Is it okay if you are a little selfish right now?

You reach forward, standing high up on your tippy toes to grab his right arm sleeve.

"What the hell are you doing," He booms.

You pull him into you. He squeaks and cries, "Say something," He yells, loud even to shake your heartbeat. You're much weaker than him, but he falls into your shoulder so easily, like pulling a strayed kitten.

The weight of his head crashes into your shoulder harshly, the feeling a sharp thud, but you balanced it, still on your tippy toes. Your hands slip away from his arms, wrapping themselves tightly around his shoulders. While his neck brushed against your forearms.

You hush, "Hey Sebastian." His ears perk up in delight. Your voice whispers dear into his sharp fins, hushed, childishly excited, "Is your heart beating as fast as mine is?"

Yes.

Yes.

It's beating rapidly. It's beating so much faster than you know it. His breath exhales with a shivering snap, and he gulps.

You broke him again in an instant.

Sebastian grabs you, all of his hands finding their places on you; your back, your hips, your waist. As he pulls you up high into the air into a deep embrace. You drop all your weight onto him in the hug and nuzzle your nose into his neck. You laugh brazenly. It spikes into the air as your feet swing in the wind.

"Hah-- Sebastian! We're too high," You squeaked, holding onto him like some sort of giddy child. Even he can't help but share the giddiness and giggle. You can feel his ears flick against your head.

"And look at you now, you're so big," You tease him, and his face crinkles up in a grin. You pull up to gaze at his face, drumming your fingers against his shoulder. You stare at his face, beaming. Your hands are moving to touch his face, "Three-eyed freak," you snicker, "You weren't taller than me before."

His grin bursts into a beaming smile. "Wow... Wow. Look at you," The tone of his voice is patronizing, enough to make you start laughing. "No class, per usual. I'm not sure as to why I even invited you to see me," he said. His eyes were lidded, his voice freed of any bite. The was hushed and sweet.

Your eyes lidded, too.

He looked sort of...

Handsome, in a way. Right now.

It was weird. Not too shabby for a... mermaid?

You looked away with a gulp. It's just hard not to feel something for someone when they're holding you like this. Like you're some sort of treasure. At least, that's what you told yourself.

"Don't you agree," he purrs. His voice is teasingly delightful. Embarrassment springs up as you place your palms back onto his shoulders. You try to hide your head in his shoulder, but he rejects you, pulling you back out. You swallow. Blood rushes deep to your face, your embarrassed hands playing with the ends of his hair.

"You're flushed," he whispers curtly. You suck in a breath.

"You're holding me like this... Anyone would be," you said.

His third eye twitches.

He grabbed his wife like this, longing for a hug. Albeit careless, overjoyed, and stupid-- but overall, depressed and needy. She didn't smile. She screamed. Screamed as if he was going to hurt her. As if he were disgusting, she screamed. The sound rings deep into his ears.

Ah-

Ex-wife.

His face fell bittersweetly. Softly, you patted his chest. His eyes met yours, ears raising. Its impossible to succumb fully to sadness when you're so full of joy.

You're so special.

He smiles brightly again.

Your heart flutters. It's a weird stutter.

"Ah! Alright, alright, put me down," you yell, beginning to squirm to no avail. "Damn you!" You bang harshly on his shoulders.

"I'm not sure I wanna," he laughed heartily.

"I mean it!" You screech.

🐋🦈🐍🛋

"Is this your place? The feds hooked you up," you spoke.

When you finally got away, you could finally take a look at his home. It was on a military base, deep underground, behind many iron doors and pass codes. They even gave you a CAT to come on base to schedule visits with him. It took almost about a year to get clearance to see Sebastian.

Did everyone else who wanted to see him have to wait this long? Go through so many briefings, sign so many contracts, just to spend 5 alotted hours? You couldn't imagine being him, living like this so alone for so long. Was he just counting down the days until he saw you, just like he did back when you two were teens?

Why did that idea make you feel so content?

"Mmhm. They're spoiling me," he grimaces, and you're pulled from your thoughts.

"What? Don't like feeling like a princess?" you asked.

"It's only because of a case we're building against Urbanshade. That's all." He hums. "I'm not planning on getting used to it."

His home itself and everything within it was large. With high ceiling arches, high doorways with large door handles. Everything is his size, even the chairs and couches. It must've been expensive to make this whole thing. He truly was heavily pampered in here.

"I want tea," you bark.

"Is that how you ask," he huffs.

"Pretty please, forgive me. O' Great King," you giggle.

"Hmm... I'll think about it," he hums.

You looked back at his tail as he guided you into the kitchen. The slithering thing echoes a low humming sound. It moved so rhytmically. He truly was part a snake.

This wasn't your first time seeing him either. In the hundreds of briefings the FBI and the base itself gave you, they got to tell you all about his anatomy, photographs, and health scans. They really wanted you to be comfortable with him, and you can't help but be happy about it. It was hard to fully believe until now. It still was a fresh shock just as the day they tried to convince you. You wondered if he had met with his family by now. If it went well...

The government took him and his case just as seriously as he deserved it to be. These things are typically kept top secret, so maybe they allowed you to see him simply because...

Your think back to his soulless greeting.

He had to have been depressed. Deeply.

Time to step up and be a good friend.

"Hang in there, buddy." You cheer, patting his shoulder with a knowing gaze towards the horizon.

"Where did that come from," he grunts.

You stammer, "Oh... Just-- Hey I was trying to be nice."

He chimes sing-songly, "Oohh oh--"

"If you even know what that is," you grunt.

"No... No that's embarrassing," He snips.

Ah.

Typical Sebastian Solace, you comfort him, and he immediately corrects you. You sigh.

You look up at him, finally noticing the way his large little claw was holding your small one. Your face heated again. You look away quickly, gazing throughout his kitchen. Everything was so large, even the counter meets your chin.

"Why don't you wait for me on the couch," Sebastian hums. He had a new air around him now, one that was sure and soft. You heard as he shuffled through cabinets the sounds of cups and things clattering around.

"How can I? I have sooo many questions," you bounce, "Okay. So. Sebastian, how'd you do it? Wait-- God, you're big now! And, uh... What'd you do all day at Urbanshade after it was abandoned? Was it dangerous?" You asked, your hands finding the whale tail. You stroked your fingers along the scales, stroking it dearly. You felt him shiver, but selfishly, you didn't stop. You slid your hands up his dorsal fin and into the beginning of his snake-ish body.

Sevstain pauses foe a moment, gathering himself. "Well... A lot of it is classified but. I can tell you that I read a lot during my time at Urbanshade," he snickered.

"Well, that's obvious. You do it anyways, given the chance. You love non-fiction," you muttered as you looked back to his tail.

"Ah.... How could I forget that," his voice was embedded with a tender, nostalgic softness.

You asked, "Hey, is this heavy?" You pressed all your weight against his tail. He went speechless, yet he didn't object. Only staring at you was a bewildered gaze. "How about this," You sat down on his tail.

"Excuse me? What the hell are you doing?" He asks, but the tone is a soft bite. "I'm not a jungle gym," he sighs.

"Yeah, but... Isn't it so cool," you asked.

"So cool?" He grunts.

"A-Ah... I mean your body. You're like an X-man now," you mumble.

"Hah.... Hardly. I have my perks, I suppose. After... After the rage wore off, my body became sort of... New. But those memories are," he swallows thickly, clenching his fist tightly.

"Im so--"

"In any case. I'd rather be something a bit more like you... At least... I never thought I'd say this. I kind of miss being shorter than you," He mumbles, sentimental fondness brimming in his voice.

You grin, "Hehe, you used to say a centimeter didn't count."

"It really does now." His tail wraps around you, grabbing you by your hips in a vice. They lift you suspended in the air, your hair hanging down as you face the ground. You squeaked, but he continued, "Come now. Tea's done."

He slithers away with you as if he held a house cat. You giggle and laugh to the end of his tail. He plops you down onto the couch. It's so comfortable!

You turn back to him. He laid against the couch long ways, with his tail supported by the vastness of the couch. All while he rests his elbow against the cushion, peering down at you with relaxed but incredibly intimate eyes. His tea is being held by his mini-hand, and the smoke of it rises to face.

He takes a long, slow sip, his lidded gaze never once breaking from you. You sucked in a harsh breath. He shouldn't look at you like that.

You couldn't help the way your palms got sweaty. The way your heart longed to touch him.

He's so different now. His whale tail pokes your back, almost annoyingly so. You grimance in distaste.

"Hey. Your tea's on the coffee table," Sebastian spoke.

You blinked, fighting fkustered thoughts, "Huh?"

"You know. The tea you ordered me to fetch," he quirks his head. "Are you paying attention? Or do you just like looking at me," he says, his voice fluctuating teasingly. But even you took notice of the interest gleaming in his blue orbs.

Your face heats up in both anger and embarrassment, two emotions you've grown incredibly fond of because of him. You "hmph," grabbing your cup and muttering something along the lines of, "you were oogling me too," that falls on authoritarian ears.

But God, you're so aware of his presence that it makes you hard to even take a sip, even though the aroma of chamomile was incredibly fragrant. It has a brilliant color too. Sebastian always had a brilliant eye for tea. "You know," you mumbled as you leaned back against the couch - as well as his tail, "After I left Urbanshade, I started drinking tea. Picking up all the flavors I remember you drinking in the dorms. I think it helped me accept the uncertainty... You know. That I'd never hear of you again."

He looked up at you with big, bright eyes. He tucked in a quiet strand of hair behind his head. The same way he always did.

You couldn't help but smile. "You really haven't changed, Sebastian."

An annoyingly dead pant takes his face, but you close to ignore his teasing. It's obvious he's sort of... "new" now. But still damn it! He's the same heart- the same soul.

"I- I... You know what I mean."

"Really? Telling the clearly mutated guy th--"

"Shush."

"That you feel--"

"Shut up, god damn you."

You look away with a huff, turning your whole body to the side to display your protest of his treatment. But he doesn't let you, and his whale tail curls around you. It's big fins redirecting you to face him with a jaunty push. You squeaked, trying to keep your tea from spilling. A ripple goes up his tail, bumping against your body contiously, forcing you to shoot straight up, or else you'll really spill tea all over you.

"What's your deal," You bark, now on your feet. You don't look at his face, but you can feel the sadistic amusement in his eyes and hear the quiet, humored chuckles mixed into his breath.

"You... You were really thinking about me like that?" He mumbles. "Honoring me in your tea..." He can't spare your gaze, so he flees onto his tea cup.

God, your heart's beating so strongly.

"Of course. Everyone was. Like our section manager, and then Zaara," don't say that name, "your mother, hell even our high-school math teacher... I went by your ex-wife's and mom's homes on occasion- just to see something of you." You mumbled, not noticing the way he tensed at the mention of his wife.

"No one believed you'd do something like that... Even Zaara... She took it hardest out of everyone," You mumbled. "Come to find out, you were framed... Now look what they did to you..." He stopped his snake-like ripple, but you still took the chance to sit closer to his main, humanoid body, as you sat 2 feet away from it. Still, it felt too far, but you wanted to respect his space.

He looked down at the floor, trying to find something funny to say, but it all failed him.

"Did you hear... About... Zaara?" You whispered, treading softly on sensitive ground.

"Yeah... I heard. She uh... Gave me a picture of her daughter when she... visited me last year," his voice was weak.

"Yeah, little Selena... She's three years old now. Such a big girl," You whispered, staring down at the reflection of yourself in your teacup.

"You know... She couldn't e-even look at me," his voice cracked and groaned out, the sound still like a fresh wound to him.

"Oh god," was all you could manage out. You hunched over to your cup, shutting your eyes deeply. "And your mom?" You whispered, begging for it not to be true.

"It took her a bit, but... She writes me letters. I don't think she can visit me anymore either... It's hard seeing your baby boy so... S-So..." He pauses for a long time before the words finally come out, "Changed."

Changed.

Change is good.

That's such a selfish thing to say. But.

You'll say it anyways.

"Change can be good. Change can be... Handsome," You chuckle, not sure if it was a mixture of your fear, embarrassment, or whatever else.

"You say whatever you want, you know. Don't you care about my feelings? Be gentler, what if you hurt me," his snakish tail pumps you roughly again, direction you to look at him. And you do, but it's filled with a burning, unadulterated fire straight your heart.

"I am. Am I not," frustration hits. You flip your head towards him, leaning in, your hands keeping your tea steady underneath your zeal, "No. You must not want me to be gentle. You want me to be rough. You want me to treat you like a mormal human being, so I will." Your voice is intense. The shiver it produces from him is proof of that.

The silence gives you confidence. You scoot closer, a hand fleeing from your tea to cup the side of his round blue face - he gasps. "You are still incredibly human. And you're still incredibly the same rude, pompous, annoying coworker, Sebastian Solace..." Your words are too intimate, and you know that. Your heart's about to burst, but you know that. You like it, even. You catch yourself, blinking away from him, "T-To me... To me, you're--"

Your face is grabbed harshly, your teacup falls and slips onto the floor, it splatters on your shoes, and it's the first thing you worry about. Not the fact that the new, monstrous frightening Sebastian is pulling you rapidly towards him. Not the fact that intense claws have you by the face that could crush your entire skull between his palms. Not the face that you were being pulled by your face toward his lips-- No you were worried about wasting his tea, breaking his cup, or if the drink mingles with his carpet.

He pauses right before his lips meet yours. What's the point if you're not looking at him. He tosses his teacup to the side, the tea within it all gone, and so the clamor of the empty cup finally snaps your eyes towards his, not in fear, but in worry about him- of him.

And so, within the moment your eyes meet, He sinks his hands around your tiny body and kisses your lips deeply. You moan and shudder at the feeling, grabbing chunks of his button up, chunks of his collar as you climb greedily into his lap. The feeling of his lips, his mouth, is almost erotically different than kissing a human.

His mouth is colder, bigger, his lips a ragged shape. You'd be lying if the friction didn't send primal shivers down your back. Your human instinct tells you that the mouth of such a large and tenacious predator shouldn't be so near, but God, the friction felt so good.

The shivers were intense, as his pointed teeth poked you carelessly at times. Or when you'd feel the breath from his silt nostrils, the intense feeling of his sharp claws on your body. Primordial fear, nipping at your brain, and you shut it all off, letting the overwhelming situation pool as passionate fire into your suddenly peckish organs below.

Two sensitive people, slurping, lapping, mewling, and huffing into eachothers lips. The sight and sound of it was dirty, sloppy. But you drunk up the sounds of his hungry pants, growls, shivers. Sebastian cracks open his mouth to feed you his gloriously thick and intense tongue.

You slurp it up, welcoming the colder muscle into your hot, moist cavern. The large presence of him inside you is dominating as your fingers twitched against his button-up. He was so needy, was he like you in a way? Unable to get it off since the horrors of Urbanshade? No-- you can't forget. He's gone through it worse, so his need.

You pull back in an anxious shudder. He truly growls then. The sound so animalistic you body gave out, but he held you dear as he pulled you back into the kiss that you know you shouldn't be enjoying so pervertedly.

To him, all of this was your fault.

Saying such pretty words, out of such pretty lips, with such a pleasant voice. Surely, you're aware of how catty you are. Sebastian can't help but think that as he overwhelms your tiny tongue.

He's aware of how beautiful you became over the years. Somethinf he never took noticebto at Urbanshade. He's never been so aware of you. He's aware of you as his arms grab your hips and waist. He's aware of you as his right arm trails up your back to cup your tiny little head. He's aware that your head didn't used to be tiny before his transformation, but he's also aware of how good it is to have so much control over you.

To him, you were being so demanding and selfish and bratty this entire time. His predatory desire to bite you grows as you part for a breath. Sweat beads begin to bubble up on your forehead as you pant at the space between your lips. "Sebastian..." You mewl, he grips your hair and tilts your head back to flash your tantalizing neck muscles.

"You know," he says comanding, "I'm not that same little teen you met when transferred into our school year," you giggled at his words, but he continued, "I'm a man. I'm not only a man. I'm not that same man you went to Urbanshade with - I've evolved. I'm a beast, too. And we beasts have our desires." He growls a bit, the trilling sound mingles with his breath against your revealed neck. You whimper.

"And your breath, your... loud little heart beat. Your lips... Your voice... Your size... It provokes me to sink my teeth in and tear your neck open." He hushes dangerously. God his flirts were getting to you.

"T-The feds are right outside Sebastian," you mewl. "Think you can take them?" You whisper, drawing your hand up and tucking his hair away from his blue-ish face. It's then that you really register how mermaid-ish he had become. You cupped his face again, drawing circles under his under eyes, smoothing out the feeling beneath your thumb pad.

He was cold to the touch, his nose now two little slits. His eyes big big blue orbs, that trailing light bub attached to his head like an angular fish. You had to ask, you couldn't hold it back anymore, not in this moment.

"What are you," you whispered. "I know I read your briefing, but still... How'd they..." You grip chunks of his cheeks.

"I'm uh..." His grip droops as he awkwardly looked to the left. "You want to know now?" He quirks.

"Huh oh uh... I mean. I kinda wanna know." You stutter.

"Well? I-I guess. A little bit of everything. Angular fish, sea snake, whale, shark..." he looked away.

You rose up in his lap, pulling his attention back on you. "That's so p--"

"Are you going to keep killing the mood or... Do you just not want me to fuck you?" He suddenly smirks, and you gasp in horror. He pulls you close to him, purring in your ears, "What? Scared you won't be able to take all of it..." Sultry and slow, teasing.

"W-What... What did... What does that mean..." You don't want to entertain the idea, the possibility.

But his angular mouth creaks open to an even more dangerous grin.

One of his large claws flashes in your face, as he puts two large fingers on your belly button. He presses them there.

You legs almost give out. "Huh?" You stutter.

He looks at you, unwavering, he presses his two fingers against you rougher.

"To here?" You mumble.

"Two what?" He giggles.

"Two- To? Here... O-Oh god."

🐍🐋🦈🛋

read part 2?

[sickwhispers]

eeeee!! yay!! ^♡^ can I ask for finn x reader and/or sprout x reader hcs?? I don't wanna overload u so I'll keep it at those!!! tysm ^_^ -incredibly desperate annon from earlier

Oh my gosh you are such a cutie (/p) don't worry about overloading me, I'm at your service!

WRITE ME LETTERS (hot freaks)

Credits to xx675ehf on tumblr for the finn picture

Pairing: Finn x reader

Relationship: romantic

Warning: he doesn't understand personal space all that much, but he means well

Type: headcanons + drabble

"Whale, whale, whale... look what we have here!" Would be the first thing you hear before he comes barreling towards you at a hundred miles per hour. His body colliding with yours from behind as he brings you in for a tight squeeze

He was never one to really announce his presence, preffering to instead tackle you with affection after a quick fish pun

They never seemed to end when it comes to you

Or, really, they never seemed to end in general

But, if you indulge him just the slightest, it's easy for him to get carried away

He's almost like a dog, in a way

He'd follow you everywhere

To each machine, to each hiding spot, right by your side the second you make your way into the elevator

Every break is spent with him practically glued to your hip, his hands holding onto you in anyway they can

Whether it be by holding your hands, clinging onto your arm, tugging at any article of clothing he could reach rapidly to bring your attention back onto him

He's a Hyper one, and he isn't scared to prove it

He's even been trying to come up with new and improved fish puns

Something that'll impress you

He's self aware, he knows not everyone's a fan of his fish puns

But, even if he was able to score just a tiny giggle from you, he'd be over the moon

"Oh, c'mon! Don't act so koi with me, i dont bite!" His arms wrap around you just a bit tighter, head pressed up right against your side as an proud grin spread across his face.

You had sat on the floor of the elevator, giving yourself a few seconds of peace before having to go back to being tormented once more by the threats lurking around practically every corner. But, of course, there was rarely any moment of peace with finn on your team. He meant well, you knew he did, and he definitely wasn't the malicious type. He just... never seemed to realize when the right time for affection was. And right now, with your chest heaving up and down from a chase you had just endured, you weren't exactly begging for psychical touch.

But at the same time, you couldn't help but find it endearing. Your arm slowly lifted up, shaky from the adrenaline you had just experienced only a few moments ago, before wrapping around him, bringing him just a bit closer. This had caused him to let out an ecstatic gasp in return.

"Yknow, Finn... you're really-" you take a pause, avoiding eye contact with him. Although, despite you doing everything you can not to let your gaze fall right back onto him, you could still feel the way his eyes bored into you. You almost didn't want to say it. Your mouth opening and closing a few times as you tried to muster up the courage. "krilling me with the puns..."

There was a pause. Not one long enough to be considered worrisome, but it had definitely been a decent amount of time before you finally craned your head in his direction. And, once your gaze finally landed on him, the first thing that greeted you were his eyes staring right back into yours. They had widened significantly, and along with that his lips parted slightly. For a second you wondered if it was his body that was shaking or the movement the elevator made as it climbed up to the next floor.

"That..." He began to speak, taking another pause. You soon realized it was his body that was shaking, not the elevator. And, as he took a deep breath, signifying that he was ready to finish his sentence, his smile seemed to stretch farther then you've ever seen. "Was fin-tastic!"

It's safe to say that he'd enjoy it if you ever decided to reply to his puns with some of your own

Nothing would make him happier then hearing a fish pun slip from your mouth, whether it be intentional or a complete accident from all the times you've heard him say them

PERSONAL BODY GUARD

Pairing: Sprout x reader

Relationship: romantic

Warning: none!

Type: headcanons + drabble

Overprotective

That single definition was a word you heard thrown every round every now and then when it came to sprout

And, not once was it ever used as a lie

Because he was, in fact, overprotective

A gentle tug of the wrist in an attempt to drag you away from running head on into a twisted, a two hour lecture afterwards about how much danger you could've been in had he not saved you in time

His presence constantly looming over you each floor, never too far away.

It was a natural instict at this point

No matter how far away you were on a floor, the second one thing goes wrong, he's right by your side

Sometimes he could be a little too much

Not that he cares about your complaints when he's grabbing you by the cheeks, twisting your head in every single direction as he inspects you for any sort of wound

"Do you know how risky that was!? You could've lost a heart!" Despite the almost desperate tone behind his movements, turning your head from side to side, his touch was always gentle. He had taken a good blow to the back, his scarf barely holding onto his form as it threatened to slip at any second. You hadn't lost a heart, thankfully, but he sure did.

He kept you huddled behind a few boxes, legs trembling beneath the both of you as you tried to regain your stamina from the chase you had only managed to survive from. His grip was tight, and once he had made sure you hadn't gotten hurt during your little stunt, he slowly let his hands slip from your face.

"Are... you okay?" You tried to reach out, your arms stretching out to check him for any injuries just like he had done for you. And yet, they didn't have to move an inch before sprout's body seemed to slump against you. His head resting against your shoulder as his arms stayed hanging lazily by his sides. He almost didn't want to move, finding too much pleasure in having you pressed up against him.

A sigh slipped past his mouth, the sound drawn out as he hesitated for a second before speaking. "Me? Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Well- I'll be fine. But, let's just stay here for a second, okay..?"

You couldn't remember the last time he had ever admitted to not being okay during a run

Typically, he'd brush off your concern with a dismissive wave of his hand

As long as you were fine, he was fine

It didn't take too long before he was reassuring you, smiling as he always did while he stuck a bandaid over a wound too serious for just a simple bandaid.

He always kept the better stuff for you

Did he ever want to admit he put you before himself almost all of the time?

No.

He didn't want you to worry

He's the one who should be worrying about you, not the other way around

He's a bit of a hopeless romantic, it doesn't take much before he's head over heels in love after a simple smile you threw his way

It's always better to be focused and prepared, especially when the people he loves are constantly being hunted down by corrupted versions of his friends

He doesn't like it when the others point out how distracted he gets everytime he spots you from far away, his body freezing up on the spot as his eyes lock onto the way you pick up protein bar off the floor

For a second he wonders if your admiring his picture on the wrapper

But surely that's wishful thinking...

[mlmmetalhead]

BREAKFAST || Mark Scout x male reader || NSFW MINORS DNI || cw: mentions of public sex, a blowjob

You’re standing shirtless in Mark’s kitchen, half-asleep, barefoot, wearing only a pair of loose gray pajama pants that cling a little too well in the morning light. Your hair is damp from a shower and curling at the ends. There’s a faint red mark on your collarbone where Mark had kissed you a little too hard the night before. You’re just pouring coffee. Quiet, soft-eyed, unbothered. Mark leans in the doorway and stares.

He’s wearing yesterday’s button-down, slightly wrinkled from being left on the back of a chair, and a pair of boxer briefs. He looks like a stray cat. Disheveled. Undone.

“Jesus Christ,” Mark mutters. Mostly to himself. “You have no idea how hot you are.”

You look over, startled. “What?”

Mark straightens up and walks closer, shaking his head slowly like he’s been hit with something. “I’m serious. You don’t get it. You stand there like that.. like it’s nothing, and my brain just stops working.”

You flush immediately. “Mark..”

“No, listen,” Mark insists, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. His voice is low, quiet in the warm kitchen. “You are so… genuinely hot. It’s not even fair.”

You give a shaky little laugh, eyes on the coffee pot. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not,” Mark says, burying his nose in your shoulder. “You’ve got this whole thing. Like you don’t even try. You’re just there, existing, and I’m over here forgetting how to breathe. Do you even know what you do to me?”

You tilt your head back slightly, exposing the line of your throat. Mark takes the invitation and kisses behind your ear.

“Your shoulders,” he murmurs. “Your arms. Your voice. The way you look at me when you’re tired, like you’re already picturing me under you. You walk around in these pants like you don’t know what they do to me.”

You turn a little, half-laughing through embarrassment. “I think I know now.”

Mark smiles against your skin. “And your face. Your fucking face. Your stupid little smile.”

You hum. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who tried to hook up with me in a library.”

“I did hook up with you in the library.”

“Right. Not exactly the moral high ground.”

Mark grins and presses a kiss to the base of your neck. “All I’m saying is, if we weren’t already dating, I’d be helpless. You could destroy me.”

You exhale, low and soft, and finally turns around. You kiss Mark once. Firm, deep, grateful. Mark presses your foreheads together. “You’re still making out with me before coffee.”

And then, quieter: “Stay here today. Don’t go anywhere.”

You brush your noses together. “Okay.”

Your back bumped lightly against the edge of the counter, half-lidded eyes meeting Mark’s, your lips parted as if about to say something but then Mark leaned in and caught your mouth in a slow, deep kiss. It started lazy, indulgent, but there was a tension underneath it, the kind that had been bubbling since Mark walked into the room, shirt half-unbuttoned and voice still rough from sleep.

You made a soft, surprised sound as Mark’s hands settled low on your hips, fingertips slipping just under the waistband of your pajama pants. Mark pulled back just enough to speak, his voice hoarse and shaky from want.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy. You know that, right?”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t argue. You never could when Mark got like this; needy and bossy all at once, like he was desperate to worship you.

Mark dropped to his knees on the kitchen floor without another word, hands bracketing your thighs. “Let me?” he asked, voice barely a whisper, and you nodded quickly, one hand sliding into Mark’s hair before he could even answer out loud.

Mark tugged your pajama pants down, breath catching at the sight of your cock, sleep-warm and flushed and already half-hard just from kissing. He leaned in and mouthed along the sharp line of your hipbone, murmuring, “God, you’re perfect like this. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your fingers tightened slightly in Mark’s hair, voice low and shaky. “We’re still in the kitchen, you- fuck- lunatic.”

“And you taste better than coffee,” Mark said without missing a beat, grinning against your skin before finally taking you into his mouth, slow and unhurried.

You cursed under your breath, head tipping back against the cupboard door as Mark worked you open with his mouth; messy and focused, like he was trying to commit every sound you made to memory. The sunlight was still pouring in through the window, golden and soft, the air thick with the scent of toast and something sweeter underneath, need, want, home.

And when you came, fingers trembling in Mark’s hair and whispering his, Mark didn’t stop until he’d swallowed everything, pressing one last kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Mark looked up at you, lips swollen, eyes bright with something more than just lust.

“Guess we’re skipping breakfast,” he said, breathless.

You dragged him to his feet and kissed him hard. “You’re not off the hook yet,” you murmured. “You’re mine for the rest of the day.”

Mark smiled against your mouth. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

[gatorbites-imagines]

My favorite mermen are ones based on either eels, deep sea fish, or octopi.

Bucky as an Eel merman makes my brain brrr cause eels are seen as creepy and scary but honestly they can be super sweet. Yeah, they are dangerous, electric eels can generate up to 600 volts which is enough to kill a person on it own (but typically muscle spasms and paralysis cause the person to drown)

Especially when they become accustomed to humans, they are literally just DOGS. My favorite is Valerie Taylor and the spotted moray eel she befriended, like. It acts like a puppy around her 😭

Merman Bucky Barnes x male reader 

Headcanons 

Happy mermay everybody

I went with moray eel Bucky, cuz I think their pharyngeal jaw is cool. I think thats what its called,,,, ive been thinking about other avengers, and I feel like Tony would be some colorful fish. I like the mental image of seal Steve,,, its cute,,, 

Imagine in this world, SHIELD is a company of some kind, that researches the ocean, environment, and helps preserve it. And then imagine, you being one of SHIELDs “agent”, aka, researchers. 

You get your own comfortably sized home near the ocean, quite isolated from the rest of the world, but the nearest town is only 45 minutes away in your truck. 

you have everything you need, and incredible internet, thanks to the tech you were given by your employers. Nicky Fury was a scary and intense guy, but he provided his people with the best gear out there. 

The first good while, nothing special happens. You put on your wetsuit, oxygen, fins, a bag for all the interesting things you find, and everything else. And splash, you are in the cold waters every single day, looking at this and that. 

You were too amazed by the marine-life and cool rocks to notice the large shape huddled amongst the rocks staring at you, he just blended really well with the shadows. 

Bucky would of course be interested in you, since where you were sent to research hadnt been visited by many people, and especially not ones diving underwater. 

Imagine the absolute terror you feel when you swim past his huddling place, and his hand reaches out and loosely grabs your ankle. Bucky would be amazed at the massive amounts of bubbles coming out around your mouth-piece as you scream 

Merpeople weren't extremely rare, but most lived deeper in the sea or in warmer areas of the world, so seeing one here was a shock to you. 

It was easy to see that he was a moray eel merman, from his tail, to his markings and claws, as well as the second set of jaws you could see in the back of his throat between his parted lips. 

Merpeople weren't stupid, and a good chunk knew at least a little of the local language, so you two were able to have a stunted conversation after you tempt Bucky to swim to the surface. 

Seeing Bucky out of the water, draped across the beach, made it obvious how very attractive he was. You did feel bad when you finally noticed his missing arm, and the many scars on his body. 

You two end up growing closer, Bucky even allowing you to touch his long powerful tail. Its pretty gross, covered in mucus and squishy to the touch. You are lucky his mucus doesn't have toxin in it. 

His human half is covered in the mucus too, but after realizing you don't like the feeling of it between your fingers, Bucky starts washing it off in the water before dragging himself ashore. It secretes out after a while, but all his effort is very cute. 

All the time you two spend together helps Bucky learn a lot more English, and he's very quick to pick it up, meaning the conversations go from surface level to something deeper. 

Its not on purpose that Bucky ends up becoming pretty possessive over you, he just does. And yeah, he's chasing off any other curious mer, or fish. This is his territory now, and only he is allowed to drape himself across your lap and receive scritches. 

I could see Bucky being just as curious about your human body as you are his mer body. So, expect to wear a lot of shorts so he can pet your legs or wiggle your toes.  

He will flop his long heavy tail over your lap in the meantime. Its both because you are curious as a scientist or whatever you are, but also because it feels nice to be touched. Your hands and body are just so nice and warm compared to his clammy body. 

With SHIELDs help, you are able to make an arm for Bucky. And Bucky, well, he immediately takes it as a courting gift, because why else would you give it to him. 

Plus, he's been able to smell your attraction to him whenever you guys go swimming, especially the times where you just wear swim trunks and paddle along beside him. 

Kissing a mer is really clumsy and awkward the first multiple times, especially one with sharp teeth and more than one row of teeth like Bucky. 

The first time you two try to slip tongue into it, Bucky almost bites your tongue right off with his second set of jaws. The merman feels horrible about it and ends up curling up inside a rock formation for a few days. He only comes out when you put on your gear and swim down to see him. 

I could imagine Bucky, after you two become a thing, mourns how he isnt human. He will always be stuck in the sea, and he knows you love the ocean, but you are human, and there are times when you need to leave him behind. 

Those times where you have to leave, be it to pick up supplies, report to SHIELD, or the time or two where you had to present a subject to a huge crowd, Bucky always lingers around, waiting for your return. 

Maybe you two figure out a way for him to drag his way into your home, like, having dug out a path he can drag himself without being dried out, and placing a huge tub he can soak in. Maybe those in the floor beds.  

That means he can at least watch tv when you are away, he's always waiting and yearning though. It's so strange to yearn for someone when he's been alone for so long, but love does that to a person, or mer. 

You are just as excited to get back to him as well, meaning you are always hurrying out of whatever meetings you were called into.  

[sightseertrespasser]

Too Deep, Too Shallow Part 4

Happy Mer May folks! Enjoy!

Once more into the deep with @keferon’s apocalyptic Ponyo au.

Drift isn’t projecting at aaaall.

———————————————————————

The distant roar of the ocean was punctuated by plip-pats of random flecks of raindrops. Turning pale concrete dark glossy grey like dying pixels on a tv screen.

Earlier, when the tropical Sun had been out, the apocalypse had almost been pleasant. In between all the emotionally scaring traumatic experiences anyways.

Mainly, it had been wet but warm.

Now, Swerve was shivering. Wind and wet clothes wicking away whatever body heat he could still produce, leaving his skin as clammy as a dead fish. He couldn’t stop moving. Not now, when exercise was the only thing keeping his temperature up.

A raindrop hit him directly in the eye.

Swerve cursed and paused to rub a fist into his eye, regretting the decision as his legs petitioned to go on strike.

Sorry body, but this temple has declared a state of emergency and won’t be acknowledging any union demands until further notice.

Grimacing, Swerve leaned forward until the threat of falling compelled his legs to start cooperating again.

He wasn’t the only one who was getting tired, Blue was still chittering away, but it was notably less animated. It probably didn’t help that Swerve wasn’t responding as consistently as before. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he just.

Kept getting lost in his head.

It was so quiet.

It was so so quiet.

Yesterday-

This morning? The first apartment building. He tried not to think about it. Tried not to look and put together pieces of peoples lives.

He got the hiking bag from an apartment where the fridge was covered in Polaroid photographs. The same couple over and over, sometimes with friends. Fishing, canoeing, and hiking of course. A wedding photo dated just two months ago.

He got the spam and most of the other food from an apartment filled with craft projects and sudoku puzzles. A half finished knit hat stuck to the ground in a wet lump. He picked up a walker that had fallen over and stared at the gaping hole in the wall for too long.

He got the case of water bottles from an apartment with baby gates..

“Click-Whistle-Click?”

Swerve sucked in a breath, feeling Blue reaching back to tap his forearm.

“Yeah, yep. Sorry. I’m listening.” He said. Shoving those memories right back where they belonged at the bottom of the mental filing cabinet. Riiight next to the demon orcas.

Hesitantly, Blue chittered some more and Swerve had learned his mannerisms well enough to feel the undercurrent of anxiety there.

Swerve eyed the overextended beach that stretched towards the ocean. It wouldn’t be long before low tide ended.

All things considered, he could probably just leave Blue somewhere on the mud caked street and the tide will take care of the rest. They’d pretty much made it. This was the edge of the city and not much was still standing this close to the shore.

But there was a bridge still in place. The concrete foundations cracked but holding strong, seemingly reinforced by a shocking amount of plant growth tangled in the structure. That’ll be a good spot, Swerve thought. By the time the water rose to the bridges height, Blue would have more than enough room to swim back out to sea.

“This’ll be over soon.” Swerve sighed. “I’ll try to be quick.”

Scaling the slope up to the bridge, Swerve felt the need to say something poignant. Some final goodbye to probably his closest friend. The scene was all wrong though. Rumbling thunder and hushing wind played the backtracking for a completely grey set piece.

Still tense, Blue made some sort of quiet siren sound, long, thin and reedy.

Maybe I just, shouldn’t say anything.

Swerve felt his throat start to close as he crested the onto the flat of the bridge, eyes down cast as he watched blotches of rain paint everything dark.

Blue’s fins flared, dragging up the back of Swerves neck and setting his own hairs to stand on end.

Stuttering to a stop, Swerve finally looked up to the other end of the bridge.

A lithe frame wrapped in dappled grey pelts, the smooth silhouette broken up by black guns and crisscrossed strappings.

Their face was completely concealed by a shadow colored mask and a blood bright visor, the only tell it was human were the long thin pale locks of hair that drifted in the storm urged breeze.

“Um.” Swerve curled his numb fingers around his backpack straps.

“Hi there!”

The figure did not respond. A cloud in the distance lit up white and went dark again.

Swerve wavered in place, swallowed and put on his best customer service smile.

“Hey! So uh, this whole. . .everything.” He gestured to the Everything.

“This looks like some serious third act climax stuff, you know?” Shouting over the silence. “Like, this is where the protagonist would have the final showdown with the big bad evil guy, or face off against some deeply personal antagonist from their past..”

Swerve started to shuffle backwards.

“And uh, I am not that guy.”

The figure stalked forward slowly and without a sound.

Blood growing colder, Swerve tried to stay calm as Blue began making low distressed noises he’d never heard from him before. The mer was twisted around in the backpack, staring at the stranger with massive shaky eyes.

In a voice like greased gravel, the drifter finally spoke.

“Put the mer down.”

Swerve mouth gapped without a sound, shaking his head even before the words came out, “I- I can’t do that.”

The drifter was not close enough to touch, but well within sprinting distance. Without breaking their slow prowl, they began to walk around the two at a precisely set radius. Swerve subconsciously turning in place to stay facing them.

The shorter man became very suddenly aware of his surroundings. Below was a two story drop onto bone breaking asphalt coated in a thin mat of mud. The ramp he’d walked up was now cut off by the drifter and slick with rain. In his minds eye, Swerve could perfectly picture what would happen if he tried running the other way. Like a nightmare where all your limbs weigh a thousand pounds and the monster always wins.

In too deep, breath too shallow.

Swerve shook, and held fast.

“Please don’t do this. I c-can’t. I can’t give him up.”

They drifted closer, fingers brushing triggers as they moved.

“You’re sick.” They hissed.

Swerve flinched, hyper aware of the clamor of his skin and the faint rattle of his lungs.

“You’re weak.” They spoke down to him.

Defensively, Swerve curled further into himself, already a small man made smaller still.

“You aren’t gonna win.” The drifter came close enough he could feel a couple white strands tickle along his cheek as they leaned in close.

“You aren’t that guy.”

Fear. His mind wanted to freeze but Swerve couldn’t stop shaking. He took another wobbly step back and pain shot through his ankle as it rolled. A simple broken ledge just a couple inches high was no issue for an able bodied man. But a sick one carrying two thirds his own weight?

Swerve crumpled and the drifter lunged.

A flash of blue came quicker.

Screaming whistling and a stifled curse, Swerve landed hard on his side. Just before his face, a red visor clattered to the ground.

“YOU- WHAT?!” The drifter reeled back, weapon automatically drawn but with their finger off the trigger. In the distance, sea lions barked like the distant thunder.

Which is what Swerve would have noticed if he was paying attention to anything other than Blue.

Whipping out of the backpack, Blue peeled back his lips in rage. Fins and flukes at full mast, the mer arched himself over Swerve, screeching at the threatening human in an ear splitting tirade.

Blue only paused when a red furry head popped up on the other end bridge, scrambling onto the topside and frantically barking.

Locking onto the mammalian mer, Swerve saw one of Blues eyes twitch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“IS THIS YOUR FUCKING HUMAN?!”

Furiously, Blurr resumed screeching and jabbed a claw towards the seal pelted human without breaking eye contact with the other mer.

The stranger galloped in their direction.

“SORT OF?! HE’S REALLY MORE RATCHETS!” The Not-Ratchet mer barked across the space.

The human was fully backing away now, his now exposed eyes darting between Blurr and the other mer in abject confusion. Curled beneath him, Orange was likewise wide eyed and panicked.

“DON’T CARE! GET HIM UNDER CONTROL OR I’M FINDING THOSE FUCKING COPS.”

The sea Lion panted as they reached the white furred human. Half grabbing, half leaning on them, “I swear he’s never done anything like this before. He’s actually really friendly!”

“NO THE FUCK HE’S NOT.” Blurr gestured to Orange. “Look at him! He’s terrified!”

“What the hell is going on up here?”

The voice did not yell, so much as it was simply just silencingly loud. A second, much larger sea lion crested the ramp, nose wrinkled and bright eyed with displeasure as he scanned over the scene. Most notably, the mer sported not just one, but four prosthetic flippers.

The other human visibly shrank. And if humans had tails it’d surely be between his legs right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shhhhit.” The drifter spoke, significantly less gravelly than before. They glanced down to Swerve before pulling back their hood and mask.

“You uh, you weren’t trying to sell that mer for parts were you?” The drifters eyes tightened as Swerve frantically shook his head no.

“I- .” He coughed. “I might’a misread the situation.”

Now that the hood was removed, Swerve could clearly see an extremely apologetic looking young guy. He didn’t even seem to be threatened by Blue still hissing at him, just ashamed.

Swerve however, boggled.

“Holy shit I thought you were an old lady.”

“You - Fuckin’ what? Why?!” Wide eyed, the drifter startled out of what ever depressed place his mind had been wandering towards.

Swerve held up his hands placatingly, “Sorry! Sorry! It’s the whispy white hair! I thought you were like, some kind of post apocalyptic Lethal Grandma.”

Dumbfounded, the drifter looked over himself and then back to Swerve.

“But, you could hear my voice?!”

Swerve shrugged defensively, “Terrifying old women smoke like a pack a day dude!” He tried changing tactics, waving frantically from beneath his mer, “So w-what dye did you use! You know, because completely white hair is super tricky to pull off, b-but you got it done so cleanly?”

The drifter threw his hands in the air, “It’s not dye? I’m fuckin’ fifty?!”

“I AM SO SORRY.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Staring down the humongous sea Lion above him, some smarter piece of Blurr recognized he maybe shouldn’t antagonize a bunch of strangers while his only mode of transportation was curled up beneath him in the fetal position.

An even smarter piece of him noted that his chest was really starting to hurt.

However, the sea Lion mers both had the looks of people who were in the midst of damage control, and Blurr was gonna ride that wave for all it was worth.

“What the fuck is wrong with your human?! Mine wasn’t even doing anything!”

The sea Lion raised an eyebrow at Blurr, patting his hands in a Settle Down gesture, “Look, the kit isn’t mine he’s just-“ He shooed away the thought. “It’s complicated right now. I’m Doctor Ratchet and this is my assistant Roddy.”

Ratchet gently put his hands on his humans shoulders, who immediately quieted down and allowed the mer to move him away. “I’ll keep him in check, but you need to calm down and stop with the screeching! You’re freaking them both out and if you really want to help “your” human you’ll stop agitating them. Are we clear?”

Suspiciously, Blurr watched the other human demure in a way that was uncannily like a mer. He watched them go fairly docile, the shit-yourself terrifying aura quickly dissipating.

Temporarily satisfied, Blurr glanced down at Orange who’d gone from staring bug eyed at Grey (who Blurr had just mentally named) to Ratchet, murmuring quietly.

“Hey. Hey, Orange. It’s okay now, you’re okay.” Blurr spoke softy and patted his humans shoulder. The mer finally moving over from where he’d been holding an adrenaline filled arch above the fallen human.

Orange had stopped yelling, but didn’t turn to face Blurr. But instead turned back to Grey while pointing at the doctors prosthetic fins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You have a cyborg walrus?!” Swerve yell-whispered.

“Stellar Sea Lion.” The drifter quietly hissed, some anger filtering back in before they visibly clamped down on it again, aggressively running his fingers through his hair.

“And I didn’t make him a cyborg neither! I mean, I’m sorta responsible but not like that.” He crossed his arms and locked eyes with Swerve again. “We got a complicated relationship.”

As if summoned, the stellar mer approached the prone human, leaning down to take a good look at him.

Whether it was the weather or the drop off in adrenaline, Swerve found himself unable to stop shivering. Blue had calmed down significantly and was chittering softly next to him, seemingly unbothered by the fucking wall of muscle, fat and fur coming right into their space.

After a moment, the mer held out a mitt to Swerve, barking in a low rumbly sort of way.

“W-what’s going on?” Swerve chanced a glance at the drifter, who’d sat down next to the other sea Lion.

“He’s checking your vitals. Give him your hand.”

Swerves head spun and he did as he was told.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hmm.” The doctor glanced back at Grey after they’d exchanged some barks with his patient, and Blurr blinked in surprise when Orange did as he was supposed to without any direction from him.

“The fuck? What, did you train your human to like, find other humans and then get them to follow medical procedures?” Blurr himself couldn’t tell if his own question was serious or not.

While the humans continued to bark at each other in the background, Blurr saw Ratchet cringe.

Roddy, who’d decided to drape himself over Grey’s lap to stop them from wandering off again piped up, “Soooo you want to tell him or should I?”

Inhaling like he was gathering strength, Ratchet didn’t stop his check up on Orange. Briefly, Blurr watched the doctor pull out a thermometer from his pack, and before the mers could work out how the hell they were going to get Orange to hold it in his mouth, Grey piped up again and Orange just. Did it.

On his own. With little more than a nervous flick of his eyes around the members of their group.

Ratchet used his now empty hand to squeeze the bridge of his nose. Hard.

“You convinced yours to carry you around right? I can see you even got a makeshift harness and supplies tied on. How’d you do it?”

“What? No he did the bag thing on his own.” The racer waved them off.

Blurr puffed a little with pride, “He happens to be an especially clever human. The most convincing I’ve had to do was getting Orange to let me carry him the first time, and all I had to do then was be gentle with him.”

The doctor wiped his hand down his face, “You named him Orange?”

“What like “kit” is less generic?”

“Nevermind that.” Ratchet scolded. “Look, I don’t care how much arguing this is gonna take, but there’s something you need to understand.”

“What?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They’re sentient.” The drifter spoke with the gravity of a murderer in a confessional.

He got a far away look in his eyes, seemingly only grounded by the weight of “Red” in his lap. His voice sounded choked. “Fully intelligent. Fully people.”

The paradigm shift was spectacular to observe, a change washed over him instantaneously as the stranger imparted what he’d come to learn.

All the air went out of Swerve in a single breath.

“Oh thank GOD it’s not weird.” He fell back in relief, nearly loosing the thermometer as Blue immediately clicked over him.

“What?” Drift snapped. “What the fuck do you mean “It’s not weird?” And why the fuck do you sound happy about that?!”

Swerve sat up defensively, “Well it’s j-just. You know!”

“I know?”

“You know! Look, Blue’s s-saved my life like three times, he’s a ton of fun to h-hang out with when we aren’t dying, and some mer are kind of..” he circled his hands around each other, vaguely gesturing to appearances of Blue and the stellar mer. “You know!”

Drift clenched his teeth, a faint pink wash raising up from beneath his poncho and up his throat.

“We. Are not close enough to have that conversation.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sweet mother of pearl I’ve been petting a grown man.” Blurr put his head in his hands, staring off into the distance.

Grinning broadly, Roddy chuckled through his words, “You what? Ratchet you said we couldn’t pet them!”

Ratchet harrumphed, “I said we shouldn’t. Sentient or not, Humans are still highly social creatures who tend to get very attached to things they consider troop members.”

Taking back the thermometer, Ratchet wrinkled his nose at the reading. “So no petting, no cuddling, no chitchatting and definitely no sharing food. Got it?”

“Um.” Blurr chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Would that be bad? If, hypothetically someone did do all of those things?”

Roddy chortled maniacally as Ratchet just sighed. “It’ll be harder to get them to leave. I actually had some hope for sec that the kit had decided he was okay enough to be on his own again.”

Glancing back, the “kit” who was a good head taller than Orange, had miraculously turned pink in the time they’d been speaking. Grey had his hands buried in Roddy’s fur and had a look in his eyes directed at Orange that came off as a little too intense to be friendly.

Contrastingly, Roddy radiated smugness.

Ratchet responded to the unspoken jeering from his assistant. “We are going to have to leave him at some point Roddy, and I want to minimize the distress from the separation as much as possible.”

“For you or for him?” Blurr muttered, evidently not quietly enough as Ratchet shot him a sharp look.

Far closer than any before, thunder pealed once more, causing both humans and all three mers to jump. The rain intensified from occasional plops to a steady shower.

“Right.” Ratchet efficiently packed away his supplies and turned back to Blurr. “We’ve got a small field hospital set up to treat survivors. I’ll carry you there and hopefully get your human there too. He’s not doing well.”

“He’s not?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Swerve felt something in his chest twinge and just about managed to cough ferociously into his elbow. The rain was coming down hard enough to no longer be ignored.

Next to him, Blue dragged himself closer to the stellar mer, who worked to pull him up onto his back. A little lost, Swerve looked beseechingly to the other human again.

The pelt wearer pushed Red off his lap and stood. “Looks like we’re heading back to base. You good to walk?”

“Yeah I think I-“ Swerve sucked in a hiss when he tried to put weight on his rolled ankle. Both Blue and Doc zeroed in on the sound, but neither really seemed to understand what was wrong.

Biting his lip, Swerve was shaking too bad to effectively stabilize his ankle. The pouring rain making everything that much more miserable.

He opened his eyes when he heard Blue click lowly and saw the other human approaching him, hands kept back and eyes cast away from the mers. He squatted in front of Swerve, “You need help? Think I heard your ankle pop earlier.”

Squinting through the rain, the injured human took the offered hand up, “Thanks. I’m S-swerve by the way.”

“Drift. Sorry ‘bout almost guttin’ you earlier.”

“Heh.” Swerve laughed as accepted his help, considering their names. “Drift and S-swerve! Guess you could say we’re both p-pretty bad at going straight?”

Drift blinked his eyes closed in a way that looked painful.

“Swerve?” He looked down at him without opening his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“The guttin’ you thing wasn’t a joke.”

“Shutting up n-now.”

The rest of the journey to base was committed in silence, save for a small break early on where Drift switched to carrying Swerve piggyback style after he’d almost fallen several times in succession.

Blue and Swerve kept their eyes on each other the whole way there.

——————

It was a slow trek through the rain to a building situated on a nearby hill. A large boat had washed up onto its side and was firmly lodged against the structure, creating a sort of ramp to the roof.

Broken railings surrounded a tiled pool still filled with water and Drift bee-lined for the shelter of what appeared to be a roof top bar.

Finally out of the rain, Swerve slid off Drifts back with a muted thanks. He wasn’t shivering anymore. Numbly, Swerve registered being sat on a couch and then Drift materializing with several stiff towels.

They had the look and feel of cloth that had been hung out after falling into the ocean, a little crunchy to the touch but blissfully dry.

“Try to dry your outer clothes separate, they’re not gonna help you warm up right now. The powers shot but the gas stove round back still works if I light it by hand. Sit tight a’minute.”

Nodding, Swerve set about draping everything short of his undershirt and boxers over the backs of a few chairs and immediately cocooned himself in towels on the couch.

The bar was open on the side facing the patio and the ocean. It was a pretty spectacular view to watch the tide come rushing back in like a rivers delta, weaving between the ruins of the city. Periodically, lightning would flicker and highlight the contours of the world. Swerve didn’t miss the black under blue shadows of some truly massive creatures slithering back into the ruins.

Instead of thinking about monsters, or the unnaturally fast spreading overgrowth, Swerve turned towards Blue.

The mers didn’t seem remotely bothered by the heavy rainfall as Blue and Doc sat on the shallow steps into the pool. The much smaller mer was frowning at the doctor as he ran through a litany of tests with him.

It was more than a little surreal watching the stellar mer pull out a massive stethoscope to listen to Blues chest. Swerve heard Doc grumble something and honestly thought he saw Blue roll his eyes.

As the doctor placed a blood pressure cuff around Blues upper arm, the mer glanced his way. Swerve slipped an hand from his towel nest and waved hello. Blue cracked a hint of a smile and waved back.

About then, Drift returned with two steaming mugs. “Mostly liquor back there but they had some black tea and a couple gallon jugs of water.”

Thanking him, Swerve just held the ceramic mug for a while, letting the heat bring some feeling back into his hands. He’d started shivering again, which was as good a sign as it was annoying.

“If t-there’s any whiskey and honey back there, we could actually make a Hot Toddy.”

Drift furrowed his brow “You gotta stop doing that man.”

“Doing what?” Swerve shrugged defensively as Drift started rooting through the bar’s cabinets.

“Saying shit that makes me say “What.” No honey but we’ve got a couple simple syrups. This whiskey good?” Drift held up two different brands by the necks in one hand and the syrup in the other.

Swerve pointed at the smaller of the two whiskeys, “That one’s the better one, and I didn’t name the thing man. I just know it’s a warm drink and a good night cap.”

Pulling up a table, Drift handed over the new ingredients and the still hot pot with the rest of the tea. With a gleam in his eye, Swerve did a little alchemy and re-poured the steaming drinks.

Drift blew on his drink and tried a sip with an impressed hum. “You a bartender or something?”

“Ah no.” Swerve rubbed the back of his neck with a warmed hand. “I’d love to! But life didn’t really work out that way. Turns out a degree in metallurgy isn’t actually that useful, so now I just do random small repair jobs.”

Swerve took a drink himself and reflected the question back to Drift. “So what do you do?”

He didn’t miss the way Drift stiffened and glance at the weapons still tied to his sides. “Civil Rights Activist.”

“Cool.”

And Swerve quickly chugged his tea. Nearly coughing it back up when a leviathans angry shriek broke through the air. Instantly, Drift was back on his feet, hands resting on his guns and silently stalking towards the edge of the roof.

No one moved in the pouring rain. With bated breath, Swerve realized even the mers looked scared, and that all of them were watching Drift in tense anticipation.

After what felt like ages, the hunter relaxed, letting his shoulders visibly drop and taking his hands off his weapons. Exhaling, Doc rumbled something that settled down the two smaller mers.

“So we’re safe? T-the monster can’t reach us here right?”

Taking his place back on the couch, Drift stared into the depths of his mug, swirling it lightly. “We’re as safe as we can get and no, the Umi Inu can’t reach us because something just killed it.”

“Oh!” Swerve whispered. “What is an Umi Inu and what do you mean something just killed one?”

“Creatures of the depths. They’re…sick with something. Makes them voracious. Aggressive beyond all reason. Animals can be full. But those things? They’ll eat until their stomach lining gives out and then keep on going.” The way Drift spoke, there was an intimacy in his words and a distance in his eyes.

He downed his drink in one go without fear of being burnt. “As for what killed the one we heard? Probably Orca mers. Or something bigger.”

The longer they spoke, the further Swerve sunk into the couch. “So, just to recap: The tides are just straight up broken. There’s mutant sea monsters and worse out there. And the only reason we’re still alive is because some mers, which have actually been people all along, took pity on our sorry asses?”

Pouring himself another cup, Drift just shrugged. “Pretty much. But just from the size of the numbers involved, there absolutely should be more survivors than us.”

That, was not comforting.

Drift stared out into the rising sea. “I don’t know where the living have gone, but I definitely know what’s happened to the dead.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you really haven’t seen any other humans?” Even though he was preoccupied setting up a medical pool, Ratchet still managed to watch Blurr like a shark. He hadn’t liked what he found when doing his medical examination and it showed.

Bored out of his mind, Blurr swam small laps around the featureless pool. He kept coming up to breath the air instead of the water as it had a bizarre chemical aftertaste he couldn’t get used to.

“I saw plenty when I first got into the city. Mostly dead ones, but there were a bunch on those “boats” going around and picking up other humans.” Blurr hadn’t paid much attention to them at the time, none of the humans looked like Orange so he didn’t linger.

“The boats looked different from the ones I usually saw near the rec center so I have no idea where they went. I found Orange stuck clinging to a pillar down some really narrow channels. Guess they just missed him.”

“Sounds like you got there pretty quick. We found ours trapped under some rubble but not until it was already daylight. He probably got missed too.” Roddy added while he helped finish the assembly of the portable medical pool, snapping on a tarp over the frame.

“Oh!” Blurr splashed onto the edge of the pool. “Okay this is gonna sound slightly insane but right before your human jumped us-“

“He did not jump you-“

“My turn to talk.” Blurr cut the doctor off. “We ran into this pack of like, baby humans? And get this: they were speaking mer.”

“Woah freaky. Didn’t know they could do that. Also, you literally had a bunch of humans talk to you and you still thought they were animals?” The smaller sea Lion snorted, pushing the tub under the downspout of a gutter.

Before Blurr could defend himself with such compelling arguments as “Hey, all my blood was rushing to my head, I was upside down!” And “Don’t ask why I was upside down.” Ratchet interrupted, voice heavy with concern.

“They were kits? All alone with no adults?”

“Eeeeeeh not exactly.” Blurr whistled in a dropping tone. “First off, they all talked like a bunch of fancy little aristocrats, and second, they all got called away by a Parents Recall song. Soooo some mer out there has definitely done some Surprise-Baby-Acquisition I think.”

Ratchet stared out over the storm struck city, no doubt thinking about the kits that must still be out there. “You human must have been awfully worried for them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Creepiest thing I’ve even seen in my life. They all just fled in perfect unison like some Children of the Corn type shit.” As more of the tea and whiskey warmed their chests, Swerve gained more and more confidence to vent about mutant leviathans, demon orcas and possessed fish-children among other grievances.

Drift was decidedly not paying attention, laser focused on Doc who was in the process of picking up Blue a placing him into some kind of portable pool. His leg bounced rapidly up and down.

“You doing okay?”

Some unseen damn must have snapped because Drift broke into a nearly manic rant once Swerve had given the opening. “I’m in love with the fuckin’ mer! Okay?! And I feel so fuckin’ weird about it!”

“Well, hey you know I can’t judge.”

Drift flopped back on the couch, face covered with his hands and letting out a restrained scream. “That’s not it dude! It’s not weird cause of him it’s cause of me. I-I used to be a poacher and I- I was there when it happened. I was there when they just fuckin’ carved him up and I barely did shit to help.”

“I didn’t even know he survived! And now he’s just so fuckin’ kind and gentle with me like I wasn’t one of them. Like I’d never helped carve up every poor fucker we caught before him. I-“ Drift stopped abruptly, palms pressed hard against his eyes as he visibly inhaled, held, then released his breath in a practiced cycle.

“Oooo” Swerve poured them both another drink, then patted Drift on the leg. “Yeah you suck pretty bad.”

“What?” Drift peeked at him between his fingers.

“What? You suck. That’s evil. You did an evil thing and I’m not gonna go all “oh it’s totally okay you did terrible things to innocent people! You only meant to torture stupid animals instead!” And I don’t think you want anyone to tell you it was okay either.” He capped it off by handing Drift another drink which was accepted with befuddlement.

“I- thanks.”

About then, Red ambled over to investigate what the humans were up to. The mer zeroed in on the pot, lifting and sniffing the concoction with clear interest.

“Quick segue: can mers have whiskey?”

Drift kicked up off the couch. “You gonna stop him?”

“Nope.” And Swerve watched as Drift went back in the direction of the kitchen to make another batch of tea and collect more mugs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Should he be drinking that? And more importantly can I have some too?” Blurr craned his neck around the stellar mer as Ratchet tore open a couple packets of hospital grade sea salt, stirring it into the now filled tub.

Glancing over his shoulder, Ratchet eyed the steaming concoction. “Speaking as a medical professional, you should never eat or drink something you don’t know the origins of.

He sniffed, “Speaking as someone who recognizes some of those bottles from his younger years, it’s just human made alcohol. Roddy’ll be fine.”

“Buuuut I can have some?”

“Nope. You’ve been over taxing your heart, your gills are in danger of desiccation and you are goddamn lucky none of those cuts are showing signs of infection.” He chided as he lifted Blurr from the pool to the tub.

“I’m still not hearing anything to do with my liver. Besides, I’m supposed to be relaxing right? Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a Hot Dotty?” Blurr flapped his hands flippantly.

“What in the depths is a Hot Dotty?”

“I didn’t name it.” Blurr interrupted. “C’mon doc, it’s a nightcap. One drink, I’ll conk out and you won’t have to deal with me going stir crazy all night in here.” To punctuate his point, Blurr attempted to twist around in the portable tub like a toddler forced to attend a wedding ceremony.

The stellar mer wiped a hand down his face, “One drink.”

Blurr grinned like a mako and made grabby hands in the direction of the others. “Great! Now push me closer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The thunder rumbled like a big man’s laughter, the sort of sound that reverberated in your belly until you couldn’t help but shake with it.

“What wOulD you Do if I SAng OuT of TuNE?”

They were gathered around a full couch and empty glasses, the humans carrying on a song almost as poorly as Roddy barking along.

“WoULd YUo STanD up aN’ wAlK ouT ON mE?”

Blurr was surprisingly following along the best, sprawled halfway out of the tub and whistling a soprano accompaniment to the discordant melody.

“OOOOHH I geT byyy WIth a LITTLE helP frOm my FrIEnds!”

Ratchet rode a heavy buzz, humming with enough bass to subtly rattle the lighter cups still on the table.

“OHHH I get- I GEt DRY withalil’helpfromourfriendds!”

The two humans dissolved into incoherent laughter, falling over one another. Face down, Drift pounded his fist against the couch to get his breathing back under control.

Swerve retied his towel cape and looked over to the former poacher with a shit eating grin. “Hey. Hey Driff. Did’u see the Matrix when’it came ouw?”

The poacher took a couple deep breaths, coughing lightly from exertion before responding. “Yea? Saw it in therter- theatres an’ shit.”

All smiles, Swerve dropped the punchline, “I wasn’t born yet.”

“Oh FUCK you!”

Throwing a balled up towel at Swerves face did nothing to stem his hysterical laughter. Despite his pride, Drift was loosing it just as much. He had to squeeze his ribs to get his wheezing back under control again.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Swerve managed to sit upright. “You-ha ha! Could’u pour me ‘nother cup?”

Tucking Roddy under his arm to avoid dropping the sniggering mer onto the floor, Drift squinted at the table like an old lady who’d lost her Glock.

“Uhhh, looks like we’re finally out. Want t’read the leaves?” Most of the cups were on the floor by then, but Drift grabbed a couple within reach.

“Ooo you’re uh, you’re a what’cha’ma’call’it.” Swerve snapped his fingers. “A medium!”

“Oracle. And naw, I’m not profeshin- profeshen-whatever.” Drift handed over a mug. “Take your cup an’ focus on what shapes the leaves make.”

By then, Ratchet had must have decided it was time to turn in for the night. The mostly sober mer went about tucking Blurr back into his tub and then dimming a few of the lanterns around the bar.

Quiet and droopy, the humans stared into their empty cups trying to make some sense of their futures.

“Whad’did you see?” Swerve broke the reverie first.

“I see two harpoons, crossed over an unmarked grave. The earth looks freshly turned, like something has crawled to the surface.” His voice had gone husky again, eyes boring through the bottom of his cup and deep into where the midnight water churned beneath. “The ground is still wet.”

“Oh.” Swerve held out his cup. “Mine looks like it spells ABBA.”

Drift leaned over to look. “Nice.”

The couch wasn’t huge, but it was long enough to sleep on as long as no one started kicking. Rearranging their blanket nest, Swerve laid facing his mer.

He tapped the edge of the tub, rousing the mer who blinked one eye at him. “Hi.” He whispered.

Eye lids unable to fight gravity, Blue clicked twice and sunk back under. One hand snaked out of the water and lightly grasped Swerves wrist, just holding on.

The human felt warm and floaty in a way he hoped lasted forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mer felt like shit and the concept of Crust.

It was barely light out, but morning was already burning an angry red across the sky. Blurr stretched, joints popping from sleeping in such cramped quarters for the night.

“Mornin’.” Ratchet was already up, packing up his supplies and securing the straps holding it all in place.

Blurr felt he spoke for them all when he said, “Eeeuuughhhh.”

Orange and Roddy were both still out cold piled onto the couch, but Grey jolted awake. Extricating himself from the couch pile, Grey fumbled to attention at the sight of Ratchet packing up.

“Eugh boy. No, you stay here. Where’s it’s safe.” Emphatically pointing at Grey and then the couch with Roddy and Orange.

“I’m sorry, are you leaving?” Waking up a bit quicker now, Blurr could see it was nearly low tide down there.

The elder mer finished securing his supplies, “This’ll be the best time to search for any other human survivors. I’m especially concerned about those kits you mentioned and whoever they might of bonded with. Roddy will stay with you and the humans while I’ll search alone.”

He directed that last word at Grey, who showed no signs of following it even if he could understand.

Blurr side eyed the severely hungover and still unconscious mer that supposedly would be keeping Grey from freaking out on them again.

Even now, they still weren’t sure what made Grey flip like that, but Blurr had a theory he only acted sweet for Ratchet in particular.

His tail flicked the way it did when Blurr didn’t get what he wanted. Then he smiled the way he did when he’d figured out how to get it anyways.

“You know, I’ve seen some of those monsters crawl before. For sure quicker than what you can do over flat land. Doesn’t it make more sense for you to take Grey along since we’re all perfectly safe and all?” The mer tried to look casual, folding his arms under his chin.

Ratchet grunted, not yet convinced.

Okay, new angle.

He pretended he didn’t have a grudge for a minute, “Grey also did a really good job getting Orange to go along with the check up! Wouldn’t it be super helpful to bring along someone who can actually talk to any humans you find? Stress can be bad for the heart you know.”

Glancing back at Blurr who simply smiled and blinked with saccharine innocence, Ratchet gave him an utterly flat look. What did break the doc however, was when he looked at Grey, so full of hope and hurt that turning him away would’ve been downright cruel.

“Okay fine.” No sooner did Ratchet wave for the human to join him than did Grey practically leap to his side.

“RODDY.”

The sea Lion woke with a heart attack, blearily looking around. “Whaddieu?”

“I’m going to look for more survivors with the Kit, hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

“Hemngg..yessir.” Roddy saluted and then immediately passed out again. Remarkably, Orange continued to sleep through the whole thing.

The duo slid down the ship turned ramp and disappeared into the ruins below.

————

Several hours later, Blurr was swimming circles again in the larger pool, once more bored out of his skull. By the time the tide had started filling out the water again, Roddy had decided to see if he could catch them some late breakfast.

Orange still wasn’t awake. Blurr had asked the mer to check on him, make sure he hadn’t choked to death in his sleep or anything, and Roddy confirmed he was still breathing.

“He’s like, kinda damp all over? And his breathing sounds a little wheezy but there’s not really anything I can do about that.” Roddy slipped a hand under Oranges hair and against his neck. “Pulse feels fine, I think he’s just exhausted from carrying your ass across the the tri state area.”

Excuse you, it was a mutual carrying of asses.

He rested his arms on the edge of the pool, staring out over the flooding city. Humans were people. The scale of the destruction held a new weight that made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

There was a sound then. Distant enough that Blurr thought he’d imagined it at first, then it sounded again. Something like a whale groaning in a long low wail that echoed off into nothing.

In the far distance, a large shape drifted out from behind a skyscraper. A steel wedge of dark rusted metal, it wore a garland of chains and nets. It lacked the white billowing cloths on top Blurr was used to seeing, but even ugly as hell, the mer still recognized what it was.

A boat? A boat! Humans! People! Help!

Neither sea Lion had returned yet, so it was up to him. Blurr dragged himself back to the temp pool next to Orange. He shook their shoulder hard, “Orange, Orange!”

The human furrowed his brow, glassy eyes slowly wavering open. “Bloo?”

“Hiya sweetheart.” Blurr greeted him softly and pointed out towards the boat. “Look! There’s other humans, there’s help. You’re gonna be okay! We made it!”

The human looked deeply confused, squinting in the vague direction of the still distant shape. The horn sounded again and Orange suddenly righted. The human pointed at the ship and blubbered something excitedly.

“Yes yes! Come on! We need to get their attention!” Blurr dragged their human off the couch and scrambled back to the pool. Darting across and nearly throwing himself onto to railing, Blurr let out an almighty whistle that sent a flock of seagulls into flight.

Stumbling, Orange tumbled into the railing next to him. Shouting and waving a towel above his head in hopes of getting their attention.

The ship blared its horn twice and began to turn in the direction of their base, belching black smoke from a rattling chimney. Nearly a dozen humans were gathered on the deck of the ship.

He’d done it. He’s saved Orange. He’d never saved anyone before. It was fucking traumatizing on multiple occasions, but fuck it, they won!

Blurr whooped, pushing off the railing and splashing back into the pool. He laughed lighter and more freely than he had in months. He swam back to his humans side, and then paused.

The boat was close enough to dock.

And Orange had gone very, very quiet.

———————————————————————

Hooray! They’re saved! The story is over!

What’s that?

Nooo that boat wasn’t described with excessive menace at all, you must be imagining things.

My chapter estimates don’t have the best track record but currently we’re a couple chapters from the end. I have a plan.

Bonus: Drift was and is still extremely hungover, but that’s not going to stop him from following Ratchet to the ends of the earth.

- SSTP

[wlw-imagines]

Loose Batteries - Olivia Benson x Reader (Law & Order: SVU)

a/n: might try and catch up on the days i missed but also may never get time to go back - who knows!!

summary: You’re a civilian profiler - a trauma consultant often called in to support SVU victims who can't speak for themselves. You’ve been working with Olivia on a complex case involving a missing teenage girl, and what was meant to be an ordinary consult spiraled into a full-blown field operation, one that ended with you held at gunpoint and Olivia talking the suspect down with nothing but her voice and that impossible calm.

You survived. But something in you didn’t make it back whole. This is what happens after.

Part of May Prompts: Day Eleven, loose batteries

You don’t remember the sound of the gunshot. Not really.

The report was that it was deafening, sure, but that’s not what stuck with you. It was Olivia’s voice. Calm. Measured. Impossible in the chaos. You were on your knees, a suspect’s hand trembling around a trigger inches from your temple, and Olivia was talking him down like she had all the time in the world.

You made it out. Physically, you were fine.

But something inside you had shifted. Subtle. Invisible. Like a wire that quietly snapped behind the drywall.

You stop sleeping.

Not on purpose. You just lie awake and stare at the ceiling, running through every second of that day like you’re watching a movie on repeat. Loud noises make you flinch. Sharp movements make you sick.

You withdraw, professionally and personally. You miss a call from Fin. Leave a text from Olivia unread. You start turning down consults. The city never quiets, and now it feels like it’s moving too fast, like you’ve lost the rhythm.

Olivia notices. Of course she does. She always does.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

It starts with small things. A gentle knock on your office door when you haven’t shown up to the precinct in a week. A carefully worded voicemail - “Hey. No pressure. Just… wondering if you’re okay.” And then one night, she shows up at your apartment with two cups of coffee and a bag of takeout, no badge, no agenda.

You eat in silence. Cross-legged on the couch, a movie playing low in the background, you've started playing them 24/7 to distract you. But it's something neither of you are watching. Olivia opens the cartons, passes you a fork, lets the quiet fill the room like steam.

It should be awkward. But it’s not. She makes even the silence feel like something alive.

Halfway through the meal, the overhead light flickers. You both glance up. It buzzes once, then dies completely, dropping the room into dusk. You blink into the sudden shadow. Then stand up with a resigned sigh.

“Hang on,” you mutter, padding barefoot to the kitchen. You rummage through the drawer that holds the flashlight - the old, cheap one you always meant to replace.

You click the button. Nothing.

You smack the end against your palm. Still nothing.

“Flashlight’s dead,” you say, voice flat.

Behind you, Olivia shifts on the couch. “Maybe the batteries just got knocked loose.”

You freeze. The words echo - too perfectly. You look down at the flashlight in your hand, then back at her.

You give a sharp, humorless laugh, “Yeah. Sounds familiar.”

Her eyes catch yours, dark, unreadable. There’s a long pause.

And then, gently, she reaches out, her voice soft, “You don’t have to fix it alone.”

You want to scoff. To retreat behind sarcasm or stoicism or something easier. But you’re tired. You’re so tired. So instead, you whisper, “I’m not even sure how to start.”

Olivia sets her container aside. Wipes her hands slowly on a napkin. Then she leans forward, forearms on her knees, voice soft and impossibly certain.

“You start by sitting in the dark with someone who’s not afraid of it.”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, you don’t ask her to stay.

She does anyway.

You fall asleep on the couch, finally, cheek pressed to a throw pillow that smells like takeout food and your vanilla dryer sheets. When you wake up at 3 a.m., the throw blanket you forgot about is tucked around your shoulders, and Olivia is sitting in your armchair, half-asleep, arms folded across her chest.

She doesn’t say a word. Just gives you a sleepy smile and closes her eyes again.

You don’t dream that night but you also don't wake up in a sweat, crying out from nightmares.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Days pass. Olivia starts showing up more.

Not every day. But often enough that you stop questioning it. Sometimes she brings food. Sometimes books. Once, she shows up with a six-pack of AA batteries and a deadpan look.

“In case anything else around here has loose wiring.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that a metaphor, Benson?”

She shrugs, setting them on your counter. “Only if you need it to be.”

You don’t laugh, but your lips twitch. That’s the first time in weeks.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

You try going back to work. Once.

It’s an easy case, or it should be - a witness statement, routine follow-up. The victim is a teenager with wide, frightened eyes and a stammer that reminds you too much of yourself.

You freeze mid-question. The words evaporate.

Across the room, Olivia stands. Her movement is subtle, it's not rushed, not pitying. She crosses the space with practiced calm, her voice filling the silence where yours faltered.

She finishes the interview without breaking rhythm. The girl relaxes.

Later, in the hallway, you turn to her but avoid her non-judgemental gaze. It's too soft, it makes you feel too secure, “I couldn’t speak.”

“I know.”

“I let you down.”

“No, you didn’t.”

You look at her then, really look. And Olivia’s gaze is fierce and warm, all gravity.

“You’re not broken,” she says. “You just need a minute to find the switch again. You'll get there.” And she says it with so much certainty that you find yourself starting to believe her.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The blackout hits Manhattan on a Sunday night.

You’re alone. A storm’s been crawling across the city all day, dark and impatient. When the lights die, it’s like a thread snaps in your spine. Your chest tightens.

It’s not the dark itself, it’s what it reminds you of. The chaos. The silence after.

You reach for the flashlight in your drawer. The old one.

It doesn’t turn on.

Your hands start to shake. You try again, but your fingers are clumsy, frantic. You feel your breathing spiral, too fast, too shallow. A panic attack in slow motion.

You can’t speak. But you grab your phone and hit one number. Olivia.

The line connects. You don’t say anything. You can’t.

She knows.

“I’m on my way,” she says. “Don’t hang up.”

Eleven minutes later, there’s a knock at your door, her rhythm, sharp-then-soft. You open it with trembling hands.

She doesn’t ask questions. She just steps inside, drops to the floor with you, presses a hand to your back.

“Breathe with me,” she whispers.

You try. You fail. You try again. Eventually, the storm passes.

You’re left in the silence, heart still raw, when you finally whisper, “I really hate the dark.”

“I know,” she says softly. “You don’t have to be in it alone.”

She reaches for the flashlight in your hands. Twists the end.

Click.

A soft beam of light flickers to life, weak but steady.

She holds it between you like a peace offering.

“See?” Olivia murmurs. “Just loose batteries.”

You don’t say thank you. Not out loud.

But the next day, she finds a sticky note on her desk that reads Still here. And a week later, when she shows up with dinner, you reach for her hand without thinking.

You never quite tell her everything. You don’t know how. But she never asks for more than you can give.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

She leaves a new flashlight on your counter. Sleek. Heavy-duty. Industrial-grade. A quiet promise in solid black metal.

You don’t say thank you.

But the next time she’s at your place and your hallway flickers again, you grab it without flinching, and she watches you with something close to pride in her eyes.

One night, weeks later, she’s leaving.

You walk her to the door, and she pauses in your doorway, pulling her coat tighter around her frame. There’s something in her face, something she’s not saying. You decide to tell her what you haven't been saying, to open up.

“Olivia.”

She glances back. “Yeah?”

You take a slow breath, “You’re the reason I didn’t burn out completely.”

Her expression falters for a heartbeat, something unguarded and almost vulnerable flickers across her face. Then she steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You were never broken,” she whispers. “Just… shaken. Happens to all of us.”

Your eyes burn. You reach up, not thinking, and thread your fingers into hers. “Yeah. But not everyone has you to put the batteries back in.”

That earns a smile, one that is real and soft-edged.

She leans in and presses her forehead to yours, breath warm against your cheek.

You don’t kiss.

But maybe you don’t need to.

Not yet.

Because in the dark, once again, you’re not alone.

[petersteeleslut]

id share my power with you forever

-kai anderson x female reader

CW: Smut 18+, slapping, choking, toxic relationship, rough, p n v, abuse? body marking, jealousy. kai being kai. mentions of murder, gun. exhibition. . !!Loving kai!!

Summary: Kai had been getting closer to his members but you noticed one girl in particular. She always touched kai and flaunted herself in front of him for you to see until you finally had enough as he wasn’t stopping it. He shows you just how much he really loves you♥️(other woman is h/n)

“It’s time for a revolution, a revolution i want you all to be a part of. i’ll give you purpose” Kai said as he walked around the room, looking at all of us sitting down. He’d talked to you about the type of people he wanted, the power he wanted and such yet it surprised you every time he talked. “Real power is having people loyal enough to you that, if you ask them to, they will kill themselves. they will override their natural survival instinct in service for your needs and will.” He turns to a girl sitting infront and looks down at her, seeing her admiration as easy target. “I’ll give you.. give you all something to be a part of. someone to serve for the best”

It was all for a cause right? you shouldn’t be jealous, he’s just doing his job. You remembered when you were that girl, the innocent girl he longed for that opened his cold heart. But he loved you you just need to be secure in that, and you were until she did everything possible to have him. She wasn’t even threatened or cared to do it infront of you and it drove you crazy.

“Hey h/n I need to talk to you, meet me in my room when you’re done with that will you?” being the leaders girlfriend came the perk of the members listening to you as well, you were going to put an end to her one way or another. Finally she walks in, but of course wearing the shortest shorts known to man kind and skimpiest shirt. “Lock the door please and sit down” You pulled out a chair for her as you stayed standing up. “So I see what you keep doing, wearing these clothes infront of MY boyfriend. What are you looking to get?”

“What do you think? I obviously want him, i could easily take him for you” She said and looked up at you with teasing eyes and a laugh.

“Oh? you really think so?” Your hand goes up to her neck choking and pushing it back. “Id love to see you actually try, because all you’ve done is dress like a whore and it’s done nothing” Reaching into your back pocket you pull out a gun Kai had given you for protection and put it right up to her head. “But try it, try it and i’ll fucking kill you. After all I am Kai’s girlfriend, I know a thing or two” Suddenly you hear the door open, turning around you see Kai shirtless with his beautiful blue hair half up in a bun.

“What the fuck is happening here?” He questioned as he walked closer and sees who’s in the chair.

“Just telling this stupid whore she should stop trying to take you from me… or i’ll kill her” You whisper into her ear and feel kai’s hand around your waist making a smile appear on your lips.

“Pfft, her attempts have be pathetic but i’ll tell you something” He turns its body to you while you still have the gun pointed to her head “You can kill her, or I can show you how much I ONLY love you” His head leans down and in to kiss you.

“Get the fuck out of here, try again and i’ll kill you for real” You look at her and point to the door but kai has other plans.

“No no let her stay, let her see how much i love you. Make her watch what she’ll never have” He gave you a smirk before locking the door with a key this time. “And you sit the fuck down, don’t talk” Letting you go he leaned down to her face level. “All you ever were was a easy target to serve me, if you thought anything else than you really are a stupid whore” he practically spit his words at her.

You put your gun down on your drawer and got down on your knees infront of kai, his fingers ran through your hair as he looked down at you. “What a pretty girl you are” You really were the prettiest girl he had ever seen, always especially pretty when you looked up at him on your knees ready to serve him. Reaching your hands up you undo his jeans and bring them down, seeing his hard cock in his underwear you bit your lip and slowly jerked him off as he pulled them down. Holding his cock in your hands you slid it on your lips before kissing his tip and taking him into your mouth fully. “Fuck, you’d never be able to take this cock like her”.

You looked over at her as he ran his hands to the back of your head and fucked your mouth, the groans coming out of his mouth was the cherry on top, It felt like electricity through your body. Once he was close he pulled out of your mouth and pulled you up by the back of your head, he placed a kiss on your lips before turning you around and slapping your ass. Slowly he pulled your pants off along with your panties, you took your shirt off and threw it to the side. “Look at these fucking ass and tits, you think you can compete with my pretty little slut?” Her face ran red when he showed you off. “I asked you a question bitch” He walked over to her and slapped her across the face before she answered.

“No- no i can’t compete with her”

“That’s fucking right” he says before laying you down on the bed, kissing down your body and licking a stripe up your pussy. “This cunt is all I need” He lays a kiss on your clit and spits on your already wet pussy, suddenly he flips you on all fours and holds onto your hips as he pulls you onto his cock.

“Fuck, kai you feel so good” you moan out while he pounds your pussy from the back, reaching down he lifts your upper body towards him holding you up by your neck. He lays kisses on your neck still thrusting into you. You turn your head around leading into a passionate kiss between you two, his groans going into your lips making you throb around his cock.

“Show her how good you ride me” He whispers into your ear as he lays down. You straddle him in reverse cowgirl so you can look at her face while you do so, kai leads his cock to your entrance as you slide down. “Tell her how good this divine cock feels in you, show her it’s all yours”

Holding in your moans you look at her while still going up and down on him. “His divine fucking cock feels so good in my pussy, and it’s all fucking mine” Kai held onto your ass and gave you a slap showing how proud he was. His cock hit the perfect spot in you every time you went down.

“Don’t hold back your moans, show that bitch the pleasure i’ll never give her” And just like that you let go, moans coming out of your mouth and filling the room along with the sounds of your ass hitting his hips with each move you made. “Yeah just like that, so fucking hot for me” His hands holding onto your hips so hard you felt the bruises forming.

“Divine ruler I need to cum, im so close please” He lifted you off his cock and put you on your back

“Not just yet, you’re cumming with me” Sliding his cock back into your wet cunt. Your orgasm building up again with his hand cupping your breast as he leaned down kissing and sucking on your breasts leaving hickeys and marks all over you. Your head rolled back in pleasure feeling his hands all over your and his cock thrusting deep into you.

“God I love you and your cock my divine ruler” You moaned out before his hand reached your chin pulling your head to look at him.

“Yeah baby? look at me while I fuck you and this perfect wet little cunt” His hands squeezed your cheeks causing your mouth to open as he spit down your throat. You swallowed immediately looking into his eyes with a slutty smile on your face. “I fucking love you ” Your legs shook around him as your orgasm came close to you again, you felt his thrusts get harder as he groaned into your ear. “I’m gonna cum inside this cunt while that stupid bitch watches, you ready to cum with me my little lamb?”

“Fuck yes, give my cunt your seed my God” He held your hands at your side as he let out his final thrust pushing you over the edge screaming his name while you came all over his cock, milking his cum into your desperate pussy. It was all unreal, he gave you unreal pleasure. You leaned up and pulled him into a kiss while he was still inside of you he pulled you up to sit.

“Let’s go finish her off” He whispered into your ear as you stood up with him and walked towards her with his cum dripping down your pussy.

“Oh look at how flustered you look, you dumb bitch you’ll never have him, I hope you were able to learn that. I don’t want to have to lose a bullet on you.” You laughed and held kai’s hand.

“I wouldnt even pitty fuck you, keep that shit up and i’ll kill you myself” He pulls her hair back as she screeches in pain from his force. “What you just saw, that’s how I fuck the woman I love”

“Get out of my face and go do something useful with yourself” Right as she stood up you pulled her down on her knees, humiliating her once again. “Actually, thank him for letting you watch. He was being nice don’t you think?”

“yes, yes thank you divine ruler for letting me see how- how much you only love her” She stuttered out making a laugh come out of both of you.

“What a pathetic bitch. All you do here is obey me and y/n and that’s it, don’t walk around like a slut trying to get me to pitty fuck you. Seriously get out now.” She walks out leaving you and kai alone, picking you up with your legs around him he kisses you.

“You’re the only one I want, i’d share my power with you forever”.

You look at him with confusion, you he loved having power and even deep inside you “knew” you were only a special follower to him. “I thought today had shown you i want us to be two, in this together. I want you to be the divine queen to these people, alongside me”

“Of course i will kai, you won’t regret this. I know how much trust you’re putting in me and i’ll never get out of my place, you’re still the divine ruler, i don’t mind ruling these people beside you but never above you” You lean in and leave kisses down his neck, all of what you thought before was wrong. He was genuine, you were different to him and opened a different side of him.

“You know it was hot to see you take charge of someone in the group, And you were right. Being with me has taught you a few things, i bet you even got a rush out of putting her in her place.”. You felt your heartbeat get faster as these words came out of his mouth, slowly he laid you down and laid beside you as you thought about everything. Kai changed you, made you realize the deepest parts of yourself and being entirely true to who you really are and desire.

“I did, I feel like i’ve been chasing a high like that. The only other time i feel it is when you take control and ruin me while loving me” You turned your body over and cupped his face with your hand, you were never a religious person but seeing him made you question that maybe God was real and took form in him. “But i have been craving something more…”

“Tell me” His hands wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to him leaving your head on his chest. Before you answered you lifted your hand up to his rising and falling chest, his heartbeat not only gave him life but it did to you too.

“I’d kill for you and i know you’d kill for me. I’ve been in the group while you kill people with other members, I always see how your face changes as if something takes over you and you feel truly alive. I want that with you, I want that high with you.” His eyes almost lit up with your response, as if he has been waiting for this very moment.

“I knew you were fucking perfect for me” A almost sadistic smile spread on his face as he picked you up and placed you in his lap, immediately your lips crash together like they had many times before except this time there was a hunger for more and you knew you’d get that certain high soon enough. Everything felt as if it went into place, you knew how kai truly felt abiut you, you knew you weren’t just another member and you knew you had changed him somehow. Kai was still kai, but with love, love for you and only you forever.

part 2?

thank you all for reading, this was kinda quick and i’m thinking about writing a different version of this where they actually kill the other girl, or just a part two to this. not sure if you’ll like that so if you’re interested pls comment it lolll. all likes and reposts are so appreciated and make my day. i’m trying to grow my account and such but i’ve just started writing and i’m not sure what to do to grow it but thank you for your support ♥️- rain

[vintagegeekculture]

Menacing Minerals With Psychic Powers

Minerals. These days, it seems like everyone’s looking for them. But…what if...the inhabitants of the rock kingdom were not as inert as previously believed, and they started to acquire intelligence and psychic powers to menace mankind? In so doing, we would question our simplistic definitions of what constitutes life. These evil and possibly telepathic rocks would be the ultimate adversary for life as we know it, as they represent the replacement of life with unlife, a metaphor for our industrial society that replaces living forests and swamps with dead parking lots.

This science fiction element has its origin in the peculiar fixation of a bizarre but nonetheless influential man, J.H. Rosny, a pen name for two Belgian science fiction writer brothers who worked together. I sometimes address them in the singular and the plural as at times they worked together and other times as just one brother. The Rosnys believed that eventually, the final battle for existence, billions of years in the future, would be man against the future inheritors of the earth, incomprehensible inorganic rocks and minerals.

Rosny was very much a foundational cultural figure in science fiction in France and Belgium, though unlike Jules Verne, his contemporary, he is not too well known in the English speaking world. Like Olaf Stapledon or Asimov, he had a long view of human history, and he set his stories in one of two places: either the beginning of human history, like his stone age adventure story Quest for Fire (La Guerre du Feu in France) a novel about a time when men (or something like a man) killed for possession of fire, which he did not know how to make…or at the end of human history and life on earth, billions of years in the future when the sun burns out, in his Death of the Earth.

In between them, Rosny wrote Le Xipehuz in 1910, a novel set at the very beginning of civilization in Ancient Mesopotamia, where mankind is invaded by a race of genocidal sentient crystals known as the Xipehuz. Our hero is a thinker ahead of his time, an Assyrian Einstein, who represents an extraordinary rationalism and an early version of the scientific method in an otherwise primitive age. The first truly alien aliens in science fiction (predating the surreal landscapes of Stanley G. Weinbaum), the Xipehuz are crystalline minerals from space that are able to float, shoot something like a laser (and even use their laser to read markings left by others, like an optical scanner on a CD-ROM), the Xipehuz cannot be communicated with or reasoned with, and are scary in that they are a form of mineral life that is totally incomprehensible. The story never explains where the Xipehuz came from, their motives, or even tells us what they wanted. They slaughter humans but only out of cold indifference instead of sadism or passion.

Le Xipehuz (French for "The Xipehuz") is an alien invasion story set at the beginning of civilization, somewhere between the Neolithic and Mesopotamia. But Rosny’s second book to deal with malevolent minerals, the Death of the Earth, is set at the end of history, where the last few survivors of earth find they are running out of water, running out of food, as the very animal and plant kingdoms of life face their inevitable end, threatened by psychic minerals called the ferromagnetics. Like the Xipehuz, they are absolutely confounding and incomprehensible, cannot be communicated with. It’s not entirely clear if the ferromagnetics are even life as we understand the term, as they seem to confound simple definitions of what “life” is.

The worst part about the ferromagnetics is this: there’s a crushing inevitability to them. It seems these weird rocks, not life as we know it (plants, animals) are the true inheritors of the earth, who will continue when the last man’s eyes shut and the animal kingdom ends with him, replaced by inorganic matter. In that sense, they are a metaphor for the rock and earth of the tomb, the final conqueror.

The Rosny Brothers were the beginning but not the end of the story of evil minerals.

In 1957, a movie called “The Monolith Monsters” featured gigantic rocks that burst from the earth, threatening to spread over the entire earth and replace life itself.

In 1963, the Outer Limits episode "Corpus Earthling" was about geologists who discover a pair of pulsing, bizarre talking rocks that turn out to be attempting to conquer earth. The Outer Limits was the Twilight Zone's more science-heavy and plausible cousin, more like the magazine scifi of the era. The fact the rock invaders are unrecognized as any form of life is to their advantage, and they only are stopped when, after an accident, a human acquires the ability to spy on their telepathic communications. Note that yet again we find the minerals are telepathic by nature. The episode was based on a French novel, which is unsurprising because of the domination of the Rosnys over French language scifi.

The otherworldly control voice (done by "Nomad" actor Vic Perrin) ended the episode with this closing thought:

Two black crystalline rocks: unclassifiable. Objects on the border between the living and the nonliving. A reminder of the thin line that separates the animate from the inanimate. Something to ponder on. Something to stay the hand when it reaches out innocently for the whitened pebble, the veined stone, the dead unmoving rocks of our planet.

In 1966, J.G. Ballard wrote a fascinating story called the Crystal World, a novel about a strange crystallization process affecting the wild places. It is an alien invasion, but one of a very strange variety: the ecological invasion, where a biosphere is replaced by something cold, dead and unliving, with crystals enveloping living things like flies in amber, preserving them eternally. Ballard, even more than Rosny, start to see why people write about evil minerals and crystals: it represents the terror that life itself is overtaken by nonliving matter, the way parking lots replace wetlands. It's a predecessor to the ecological-based alien invasion story where ecosystems are replaced by something sinister and unrecognizable, and was a direct predecessor to David Gerrold's War Against the Cthorr novels, where a more aggressive alien ecosystem takes over earth's.

Not to be outdone, Frank Herbert, who put-putted around in the pulps for a good decade before he did that book, did the Green Brain, a malevolent uni-mind found in green minerals that have a kind of collective sentience, created by the resistance of the earth itself to human industry's total domination over life. It sounds like it's out of style with Frank Herbert's usual work, but it really isn't if you look under the hood. As an ecologist who's works (yes, including that one) were about ecological issues at a time that was beginning to be at the forefront of public consciousness, Herbert was fascinated by how nature was not controllable.

It's very interesting that all of the stories should come out around the same time, the late 50s-60s. In that time, the runoff from society was making entire areas unlivable. It must have felt like the unliving kingdom, toxic to living things, was replacing life itself, and so battles were phrased in terms of life vs. unlife itself, with man on the side of the plants and animals. In the event that ecological catastrophes increase due to man's greed and misrule, we may see our own earth become cold, crystalline and dead as the other barren all-rock worlds of our solar system - and then the evil rocks really will have won over life.

[revelboo]

Some wheeljack smut, your majesty? 🙏🏻

I’ve been summoned by the mention of Wheeljack smut. I love Jackie so much, he was and still is my favorite, though Soundwave gives him a run for his money- why they’re both in Needs and Wants

18+ Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Wheeljack Scenarios- Intimacy

G1 Wheeljack x Reader

• Mouth sliding against yours, the tips of his servos ghost down your spine, over your thigh. Afraid of being too rough with you without meaning to. Those soft hands of yours are on his vocal indicators as you shift where you’re sitting in his lap straddling him. Moving restlessly against him as he vents raggedly. Letting you set the pace and your fingers slide down his chassis to trace around the edge of his modesty plating as rock yourself against him, lips parting on a moan to let his glossa steal inside. Wants to bend you backwards, cover you and claim you, but knows he can’t dare. Hates when his hands leave bruises on you, feeling like he’s failed you. Hurting you even though you never complain about it.

• Wish he’d let loose and seize control, instead of being so gentle like you’re going to break under his touch. And you wish you were brave enough to just tell him what you want instead of doing it his way. Mouth brushing from the corner of yours down along your jaw, you keep moving against him, fingers teasing his plating. Wanting his spike. Feel his mouth open against your neck, the scrape of his denta electric through you, and he finally frees his spike for you, groaning when you grip him and begin rocking more insistently against him. Watching those vocal indicators get pinker for you.

• Head falling back, he watches you shift over him, reaching to grip his spike and slide it against your slick heat. Palms brushing over your hips as you look down at him, eyes dark with arousal, you’re beautiful. Alien. His. And then you’re taking his spike deep, whimpering as his hips lift at the feel of you wrapped so tightly around him. Wanting to roll you under him, lose control thrusting against you. “I love you,” he murmurs, watching you ride him, finding a rhythm. Satisfying himself with stroking his servos over your belly, up along your ribs. Watching your lips part as you bounce on his spike. Wanting more, but afraid to risk hurting you. Afraid to take what he needs.

ES Wheeljack x Reader

• Looking up when the door slides open, your smile wavers when Wheeljack wanders over to you and the berth and just sprawls across the end of it face down. Biting back a laugh, you move closer and reach out to run your palm over one of the fins on his helm and he groans, mass displacing and reaching to hook an arm around you, dragging you down onto your knees. “Rough day?” You ask as he buries his face against your lap and curls his arms around you. Being so dramatic that you’re sure something went wrong with one of his inventions.

• Tries so hard to be upbeat and positive. Optimistic, but sometimes it seems like everything he does goes wrong. That all of his inventions are flawed and behind his closed door with you is the only place he can stop smiling. Stop pretending nothing bothers him. Hates burdening you with this, but he can’t seem to stop himself either. Soft hands stroke over his helm, soothing him with your touch, your scent. And he reaches up to touch your wrist, pulling it to him to press a kiss against your palm. “Better now,” he murmurs.

• Smiling down at him when his head tilts enough you can see one blue optic looking up at you, you run the pad of your thumb against his cheek. Looks so tired, always busy, never stopping like he’s afraid to. Like if he does he thinks he’s failed everyone else. They’re always asking him for things, to make things and it makes you feel guilty to ask him for anything more. Even his time. But he’s sliding a palm up your spine as he presses his face against your belly. And you start stripping for him and he shifts over you, mouth brushing skin as it’s revealed. Always worrying about everyone else and never himself. “Jack,” you whisper when he brushes a kiss against your inner thigh and he looks up your body at you. Smiling tiredly before his mouth is on you, glossa stroking over you, inside you as you arch. Taking care of you.

TFP Wheeljack x Reader

• Head sleepily lifting when his palm thumps down on the berth near your hip, his other hand is gripping your thigh to nudge you open to him. “Jackie,” you groan in protest. “I’m not even awake.” Hear him laugh at that, servos running over your inner thigh and then he’s stroking you, coaxing your body until it’s on board with the plan sleepy or not. There’s really no stopping him when he’s in a mood and he always seems to be. Hugging a pillow to yourself, you squint over your shoulder at him when he steals a couple of your extra pillows, and manhandles you so your hips are propped up and open.

• “You miss me?” He growls, servos playing with you as he kneels behind you, freeing his spike. And you can protest all you want, but you’re already slick for him. That compulsion to be inside you, breed you, bond you surges every time he leaves you. Fragging you, filling you calms it down for a while, but he wants to bond you so badly it hurts. Every time it’s a little harder to resist laying that claim to you. Making you his. Gripping his spike, he slides himself against you, optics shuttering as he strokes himself lazily, slicking the head of his spike with you and you make a low noise, pressing your face against your pillow. Denying him those needy sounds. “Don’t you fragging dare try to keep quiet.”

• Fingers digging into the pillow as he shifts against you, the head of his spike stretches you in a slow drive. And then his big frame is caging yours as he vents to stir your hair. Spike sliding almost free of you in another slow stroke. And then he’s moving, hips snapping against you. Hear him snarl in your ear as his hips pump and you give him what he wants, don’t try to hold back. Crying out as he ruts against you in urgent thrusts. Not letting you ignore him as he surrounds you, fills you. And one of his hands finds yours, grips it in an uncharacteristically tender gesture at odds with his rough pace. Like he cares about more than just the sex and you don’t know what to do with that. How to respond when you want to keep him at a distance, don’t want to understand him. Trying your best to ignore the glimpses you’ve caught that convince you that under that cocky attitude, he’s actually lonely. It’s just sex. If that’s all, he can’t hurt you when he gets bored of you.

I don’t think I ever explained it, but a few folks have asked why TFP Wheeljack is yandere in Crooked Ways. It’s because it’s an older TF fanfic of mine- it was meant to be a soulmates AU like the TF One, but Jackie isn’t that happy to be so obsessed with a human and hasn’t figured out why he’s fixated on the reader yet. He will mellow out some when he’s not in a state of constant sexual frustration/denial about being interested in a human.

[vandnana]

In Love With The Enemy [V]

Chapter 5: Four-Fingered Freaks

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

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

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

warnings: mentions of blood, war, violence

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

word count: 22,071

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

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

-

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

The Reef People.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You obeyed him, putting your hands together.

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckled softly to yourself, "My father."

"Toruk Makto?" Aonung interjected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Looking for these?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're dead tired."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She definitely likes him too." Kiri added.

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lo'ak simply scoffed, "Easy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn't change that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She kissed me actually!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes but—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taking them out, you read the paper first.

It read,

Dear y/n,

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

I knew one day that you would return.

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

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

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

I wish you well.

Mo'at

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just shut up and dive.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait, y/n—"

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I got this bro."

Aonung turned, the others along with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let me get—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes! Stay out of trouble." Jake emphasized

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But who were you not able to save?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A tulkun."

-

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

Author's Note:

My lovers,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please always take care of yourselves!

love,

nana <3

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

[targaryenluvs]

— HUNGER GAMES

a/n: look at my cute lil smiley fin 😭 god i love hunger games so much you don’t understand it’s my comfort movies and finn is my comfort character ❤️

RED MARKED STORIES HAVE DARK THEMES. READ WARNINGS PLEASE.

FINNICK ODAIR

— want and desire (req) dark themes

— summary: you’d thought you’d escaped the capitol, and to some extent, him, the ever so sweet and charming finnick odair. but apparently your fate had been signed, as it seemed you couldn’t get away from him, no matter how hard you tried.

— spring cleaning (blurb req)

— summary: finnick finally decides to clean out the garage with your help after you asking him forever.

— victors spoils

— summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.

— lonely waters

— summary: even if you resided in the fishing district you only ever got close to the water for swimming late at night. it was your favourite time of the day, but it leaves you open and vulnerable to predators and people, the water won’t save you.. silly girl, don’t you remember? finnick odairs a champion swimmer.

— my people ft annie cresta

— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.

— miss officer

— summary: you’re tasked with training finnick odair for war and to fight in the captiol. only problem? he’s completely enamoured with you.

— breakups and makeups

— summary: you and finnick used to date, but it took a nasty turn when you heard rumours of his dalliances. but now the two of you reunite apart of the same alliance. will you make up or break up? again?

— damage control & lifeline (anon blurb)

— summary: finnick and his mentor getting into a fake relationship for damage control after peeta and katniss’ stunt at the 74th games + finnick saving his stylist from execution by proposing marriage.

— unrequited (anon blurb, implied smut)

— summary: you’d divulged one to many secrets to your favourite victor and he wasn’t afraid of using them against you. karmas a bitch!

— oh baby! (smut)

— summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

— capitol girl (req blurb)

— summary: finnick loves his favourite victor.

— love you best part two (req, smut)

— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t exactly like you around other men without him.

CORIOLANUS SNOW

— trapped

— summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.

— delicate*

— summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

— ravage delicate pt 2

— summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.

— safe and sound ft lucy gray baird

— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

— worth it

summary: coriolanus made the mistake of protecting lucy gray during the bombing, rather than you.

— runaway

summary: you’d always considered coriolanus to be a friend of yours. family even. but after sejanus’s death you find him to be off. he’s keeping something from your family and you’ve run out of time to get as far away as you can.

— our little dove ft lucy gray baird

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— our little dove alt ending

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— late to the party

— summary: after corio was sent away to district 12, your managed to come to terms with the fact that he did not love you by any means. but what happens when he realises he liked that affection? and what happens when you’re already in a relationship?

— brown jewel (req)

— summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.

— temper tantrum (req)

— summary: you were the daughter of one of the richest couples of panem. everything you’ve ever wanted, handed to you. coriolanus had a short temper and you were stubborn. who knows what could happen?

— mr president (req)

— summary: mr president seems to be especially enamoured with his favourite maid, you.

— all grown up (smut)

— summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.

— charity (req)

— summary: president snow was praised for his love and devotion to his wife, a cripple. if only they knew how you’d ended up that way.

— love you best (req, smut, read as coryo or finnick)

— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t like you around other men without him.

PEETA MELLARK

— sweet like sugar (blurb req)

— summary: peeta teaches you how to bake since you’re nowhere near as good as you thought, not that you’d admit it.

—paranoia (dark req)

— summary: peeta tries to reintegrate into society in district 13 and get over his fear of you being taken from him. no one noticed just how badly the capitol messed him up until he lashes out.

SEJANUS PLINTH

— coming soon!

LUCY GRAY BAIRD

— safe and sound ft coriolanus snow

— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

— destined

— summary: you and lucy enjoy time together at the lake.

—our little dove ft coriolanus snow

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— our little dove alt ending

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

KATNISS EVERDEEN

— coming soon!

JOHANNA MASON

— underestimate (blurb req)

— summary: johanna learns not to underestimate you.

ANNIE CRESTA

— my people ft finnick odair

— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.

TRIBUTE!READER

— coming soon!

(in general, no ship just the reader in the arena, with katniss n peeta etc)