˙⋆✮ Neteyam who likes you but deep down will always feel that he’s you’re not good enough
๑ Notes: first fic yikes. had an idea, scribbled it at 3am. barely proofread, sorry. i was inspired by ethel cain’s song. all involved characters are adults. canon timeline remains, except the Sullys never left for Awa’atlu. Jake is still Olo’eyktan.
.ᐟ.ᐟ Warnings: 18+ explicit, MDNI, angst, emotional abuse, mentions of baby-trapping, mentions of sex (this isn’t necessarily a smut fic), slight ooc, toxic dynamics
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 Gibson Girl
Neteyam Sully x Fem Omatikaya Reader
Synopsis: During a festival in celebration of new mothers, you grapple with the complicated relationship you have with Neteyam. He always comes to find you, but never for the reasons you want.
The moons were sewn high in the sky when he came to find you.
You were perched in a cloud pine tree, away from the rest of the clan who were celebrating the birthing season. As a result of last year's mating season, many women had been growing babies and would soon be giving birth. The moons had aligned according to cycle, and by the next month, the clan would welcome at least five prrnen. (newborns)
From your lookout point, you could still watch the clan and their dances and their feast. You had left early to prevent yourself from becoming bitter against women who had done you no wrong.
Instead, you watched Neteyam as he trekked the forest. He was headed in your direction with a restlessness that made you uneasy.
When he reached the base of the tree, he called up to you. You simply chirped back, and he began his climb.
When he reached your branch he exhaled and smiled, inviting himself to sit beside you. The branch was wide enough that the both of you could lie shoulder to shoulder and still have room, but you pictured pushing him off anyway and blaming it on lack of space.
“Hey,” Neteyam brushed your shoulder with his in some odd excuse to touch you.
You simply hummed in acknowledgment. Your relationship had long surpassed the small talk and polite hellos reserved for acquaintances. His presence was constant, familiar, though still uncomfortable when he gave you that look, low-lidded but with a reserve. It took you many moons to decide a name for it.
It manifested in his breath, fanning over your skin. In his voice too, rough when you looked at him. Even in his touch, always testing, pushing your boundaries to see how far he could go before you stopped him.
He knew he could have you. Yet he hesitated.
“Where have you been?” He asked as he settled into the moss.
“Up here. I don’t like the big groups.”
“I know.” He snorted. “Everyone knows.”
“What does that mean?” You frowned, but you knew.
You were awkward and quiet, never knowing the right thing to say. Neteyam was your better counterpart. He was charming, sweet, caring. The People loved him for his perfected lies that seeped from behind his teeth like honey.
“You know,” he said. “That’s just how you are.”
“In my opinion, it’s better to be the way I am than to lie to everyone. Pretending like you care.” You uprooted a thin stalk of grass near your foot. “Pretending to be nice.”
Neteyam reached over to tuck your hair behind your ear. You had recently taken it out of the braids you normally wore it in. He hadn’t realized how long it had grown.
You said nothing. Neteyam was also great at deflecting. You would get nowhere trying to convince him of anything.
“When you want to be.” You said quietly.
Neteyam sighed, and probably rolled his eyes but you were watching the clan again.
“Do you wanna go to the lab?” He asked.
“Make a mess. Piss Norm off.”
“That’s something your brother would do.” You coiled your fingers around another stalk of grass and began pulling slowly so the roots would remain intact.
“You’re no fun anymore.” Neteyam said as he stretched his arms above his head, long and languid.
Your eyes raked over his body as they had countless times before. You loved looking at him, the lean muscle beneath his smooth, patterned skin and his human oddities that distinguished him from the other men of the clan.
Neteyam loved your attention. He held his stretch longer than necessary, and smiled when you finally turned away, evidently getting your fill.
“Dammit, yawne.” Neteyam stretched out, propping his arms behind his back and leaning on his hands. “Seriously, what is up with you?”
“Does anything have to be up with me just because I don’t want to partake in your stupidities?” You uncrossed your legs and let them dangle over the edge.
“Yes, because you like my stupidities.” Neteyam replied. You heard the sounds of him slowly removing his accessories, starting first with his cummerbund, then his armband, and then his necklace.
“I came up here because I wanted some peace and quiet.” You turned to look at him. “So either shut up, or leave.”
Neteyam took his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded. You exhaled, grateful for a change of pace.
But then he grabbed your arm. He traced slow, lazy circles into your skin, pressing his thumb into your tricep just to watch your skin bounce up again.
Squeeze, release. Squeeze, release.
You narrowed your eyes at him, but didn’t pull away. He hadn’t touched you in a while. Even his annoying playfulness was comforting.
“There,” He murmured after he tied his armband around you.
You looked down at it, feeling the lingering warmth from when it had been tied around him.
Next came the cummerbund, and you couldn’t suppress your smile when he finished knotting it behind your back. He had moved your hair and kuru over one of your shoulders, and you played with the ends as he fastened his necklace around your smaller neck.
“How do I look?” You peeked at him over your shoulder.
“Pretty,” He pressed his lips to the side of your neck. A shudder ran down your spine and you gasped when his hands found your hips.
“This is what you were after?” You whispered, tilting your head to the side so he could have better access to your neck. His tongue flicked across your pulse point and heat was ignited between your legs.
“I’m always after you.” He said.
You played absentmindedly with your kuru as Neteyam continued to kiss you. Gentle pecks turned into licks, which turned into bites, until you were pressed against the tree trunk and Neteyam was on you, trying to pull off his tewng with one hand.
“Neteyam,” You gasped between his kisses. He had been playing with your tits for what felt like ages, and they had become red and irritated.
“Yeah?” He croaked, voice thick with want.
“Do you really want to do this tonight?” You asked.
“What do you mean?” He pulled away and his hands fell to his sides. You immediately missed his warmth, but something uncertain had been stirring in your chest all night.
“I mean… We always do this.” You whispered. “And tonight…”
Neteyam’s jaw popped as he began to grind his teeth. You saw his irritation plainly, from the sharp swivel of his ears to the slow, purposeful flick of his tail.
You shied into yourself, bracing for a lecture on how you started it, even if that was furthest from the truth.
Instead, Neteyam exhaled, took one of your hands in his, and began to kiss your inner wrist.
Butterflies erupted in your stomach from such an intimate gesture. He wasn’t usually this soft with you. It tugged at your heart, that cavern that held all your secrets and all the things you ever wanted.
“C’mon, sevin,” Neteyam encouraged you. “I’ll make you feel good.”
You wanted to be mad. Truly, you did. The way he spoke to you made your palms hot with the urge to smack him. Always so patient, always so encouraging, always condescending. Like he knew he was better than you and just had to prove it with every interaction.
He spoke to you like he spoke to the children he taught to hunt and to fly, guiding them through every step under the guise of a caring tutor.
“Don’t I take care of you?” He pressed.
You sighed and leaned back, a sign of defeat. Your back met the soft, squishy moss underneath and it sent shivers down your spine. You relaxed, giving way to the routine that had quietly built itself in the background.
It always started like this.
Neteyam would say sweet things to you. He’d touch you with a lover's caress and your body would welcome him. He’d end up between your legs, making you feel good, kissing away your worries. Then when it came his turn, he’d use you like you were made just for him.
Sometimes he had you on your hands and knees so he could grab your hips and pull your hair. Other times, on the days that wore him to the bone, he’d push your face into the ground and slam into you like a wild animal. Or he’d sit back and watch as you rode him, and he’d pull on your sensitive nipples.
But his favorite was laying you on your back, spreading you open, watching your face for all the small signs that told him you loved it.
He liked to finish on your stomach, or maybe on your cunt if he timed his release wrong. He was careful to never cum inside.
You both knew the consequence was permanence.
But how you wished for it. You tried, once, to lock your ankles around his waist, digging your heels into his lower back. He hadn’t realized at first, until he was moaning and whining that he was cumming. You held tight, squeezing him as well as you could.
The result had been disastrous.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” He spat, the second he caught his breath. You avoided his eyes and instead reached for his tewng to wipe his cum off your sticky pussy. A little bit had gotten inside, but not enough nor deep enough to get you pregnant.
“I asked you a question.”
“... It felt good.” You whispered and closed your legs.
“Yeah? Will it feel good when you’re fucking pregnant? When I have to take care of you and a baby?” Neteyam pulled his loincloth from your hands when you had wiped yourself enough. He looked at the cloth in disdain. It was starting to stain and now he’d have to scrub the damn thing to get rid of all evidence.
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’d run the second I started showing.” You said back, still unable to look him in the eyes.
You were sore between your legs and usually you loved it. It proved that you had made him feel good, that pleasant ache he left behind. But this time it stung of shame.
“Don’t say that.” Neteyam reached over and roughly pinched your chin between his thumb and first finger. He forced you to look him in the eyes, and your shoulders caved.
Neteyam looked older. He had lost his mother’s tenderness and taken on his father’s exhaustion and anger. You didn’t like that look on him.
“Don’t ever say something like that again. I’m many things but I’m not a coward. I’m not weak.”
After that, he didn’t touch you for days. Nearly a month had passed when he finally returned. He mumbled apologies as he kissed your stomach and made quick work of your loincloth. He traced your tanhi and promised he wouldn’t be mean anymore.
You could’ve cried of relief that day. He made you cum harder than ever that night, when he said he loved you but then looked away like he regretted his words.
That night had been so long ago. Filling the gaps was your belief that he truly did love you, and was just waiting for the right time to mate. To connect. You dreamed of the day he’d offer his kuru and with tsaheylu made, you would be bound together forever.
Now, Neteyam was looking at you with another strong emotion. You pursed your lips and turned away when he tried to kiss you.
“… Do you like me?” You asked quietly.
Neteyam sat between your open legs, spreading them further apart so your thighs rested on his. He hid his offense at having been denied a kiss.
“Don’t ask such stupid questions.” He said.
“We haven’t mated.” You pressed further. “I don’t think this is what the Great Mother wants.”
“Eywa wants us to have fun. To enjoy ourselves.”
“You don’t want to be mated to me.” You said suddenly. You watched his face, praying he would react in any other way. Maybe he’d get upset. Maybe he’d scold you for saying such things, for questioning his love for you.
“Do you really want to be mated to me?” He asked.
You swallowed hard and looked away as your eyes burned with tears that were threatening to spill.
“I don’t want to do this tonight. I’m not in the mood.”
Neteyam pressed his fingertips into your plush thighs but then pulled away. You closed your legs and curled into yourself, tail wrapping around your ankles tight.
“Fine. That’s okay. I won’t pressure you.” He said.
You hairless brows furrowed in anger. You hated it. You hated him. He offered it to you like it was his mercy. Like you had no right, no autonomy to your own body.
“Paskalin,” Neteyam tried again. He sighed deeply in that way of his when he was going to speak to the People, or the council, or his parents.
“It’s not that I don’t like you. However,” He began like he was reading from a page.
Your lower lip trembled and you put your hands flat on the tree trunk, ready to push yourself up and run before you had to listen to this nonsense.
A welcome interruption crackled through Neteyam’s neck comms instead.
“Come in, Pathfinder. This is Devil Dog.”
Like you, the forest held its breath.
“Fuck.” Neteyam spat. He pressed his knuckles to his eyes then slowly dragged them down his cheek bones and down to his chin like he was wiping away any trace of you.
You exhaled gratefully and squeezed your eyes shut, willing your heart to stay calm.
Mawey. He will not hurt you with his words tonight.
“Come in, Pathfinder.” Jake said again.
Neteyam inhaled, held his breath for three seconds, then exhaled.
Neteyam looked at you forlornly. You could practically see the annoyance on his face in response to you denying him that sweet, pleasurable sensation he only sought between your legs. It made you proud despite your hurting heart.
“What’s your POS?” Jake demanded.
Neteyam tilted his head and you bared your teeth, enough to show your fangs. He rolled his eyes and turned away from you.
“The hot springs.” He lied. “I went for a walk.”
“Get your ass out on patrol. South.” Jake said.
Neteyam tilted his head back and stared up into the canopy above. You watched with an odd fascination. Whenever his father talked to him, either face to face or through the comms, Neteyam got this look in his eyes. He looked distant, imagining himself anywhere other than where he was.
There was a silence long enough that you thought Jake was gone.
“I want you in the air in ten.” He said.
You both waited for Jake to speak again, but this time he was silent for good.
“Yes, sir.” You mimicked, a high-pitched annoying sound.
You shook your head, keeping your eyes on the ground. Neteyam stood up and offered you his hand, which you deliberately ignored.
“Don’t be like that.” He murmured. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
“Mm.” You hummed without care as you stood up on your own. “Go on. Be a good son.”
Neteyam looked at you like he wanted to argue, but you ignored him again.
“You’re keeping my things?” He called.
You paused, remembering that he had adorned you with his belongings like you were his doll.
“… You put them on me.” You said matter-of-factly. Your fingers itched to take them off, to shake yourself free of his confines.
“I like when you wear my things.” Neteyam said.
Your face got warm and your hands got angry. You whipped around and marched to him. Your tail was a warning, flicking wildly.
You placed both hands to his chest and pushed as hard as you could.
As Neteyam barely caught himself from falling off the edge, you were digging your fingers into the knots he had created. You ripped off the armband, then the cummberbund.
“What are you doing?” Neteyam asked, but he kept a good distance.
“Get this shit off me!” You shouted as you desperately tried to yank the necklace off. The damned thing was too complicated, but despite your anger you couldn’t bring yourself to break it.
Neteyam was many things, most of which you hated. But he was also an artist, and you knew you couldn’t forgive yourself if you ruined his art.
“Get off!” You shouted as you finally unraveled the damn thing and threw it at his feet. Your skin crawled with disgust and the sinking feeling that he had branded you.
He doesn’t even care. You seethed. Today it mattered and he doesn’t fucking care.
“I’m…” Neteyam stared at you in shock, and made no effort to retrieve his things.
Your breaths came heavy as you stared at him with nothing short of hate. Fighting back the urge to cry, you brought an accusatory finger to his face.
“You are fucking mean, Neteyam.” Your tail curled tight so your lower lip wouldn’t tremble. “You are selfish. I can’t,”
Your voice broke and you turned away so he wouldn’t see you cry.
He made no move to comfort you. He said nothing, and you didn’t know if his silence was a blessing or a curse. Deep down, you wished he would wrap his arms around you. You wanted so badly for him to love you enough to care.
“I can’t do this. I won’t do it.” You finished.
With the back of your hand you wiped at your eyes. Your legs were already moving, carrying you away from the man who took pleasure in crushing your heart between his hands.
Neteyam watched you by your tanhi until it was swallowed by the forest. The air around him became stale, as sour as the taste left in his mouth.
He turned away and called for his Ikran as he picked up the belongings you had thrown. As he fastened them to his body, the bird arrived and when he was ready, both rider and Ikran took to the sky.
It was cold up in the Hallelujah Mountains. Some nights you would ride with Neteyam to keep him warm, your chest pressed to his back and your shouts of glee in his ear as he guided the Ikran through her practiced stunts.
Tonight, even the wind was quiet.
It wasn’t until the Ikran chirped at him that Neteyam realized he had been holding his body tense. He took a deep breath, and guided the bird above the outer edge of the forest canopy.
Your words rang true and abrasive in his mind. It seemed that increasingly often, you were occupying his mind. He had sensed your irritation and how it grew as the days passed. The nature of your relationship remained the same, but your patience was growing thin.
Neteyam refused to acknowledge it. When he saw that glimmer in your eyes, he turned away. When he saw you touching your kuru, he pretended he hadn’t. When he caught your gaze across the campfire as young couples and mothers celebrated their future children, he left you alone with your loneliness and your empty womb.
It would drive him insane if he thought about it too long.
He focused instead on what he could give you. Fun. A night where you felt loved. It was awful and never enough, but Neteyam reasoned it protected you from the truth.
You made him forget his own failings. He didn’t deserve someone because he was too angry. He didn’t pray as often as he should, nor was he the great heir he was destined to be.
Kiri was the healer, training as Tsakarem. Lo’ak stood up for things, forced people to listen, and made a name for himself. Tuktirey was a warrior, completing her Iknimaya even younger than Neteyam did.
Even Olo’eyktan was a role no longer promised. Some thought Lo’ak would inherit it, or even Tuk when she was older.
Neteyam had been given the dirty work. What was too difficult or too boring fell into his hands and he obeyed, like always. Keep your head down, get it done. Listen to your dad. Toruk Makto knows best. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.
You gave him a break from that routine. When he spoke of running away, you agreed. You listened. Worse, you stayed when he got upset, when he started breaking and throwing things and cursing the All Mother.
You fixed him when he was injured. You kissed him when he cried. You held him when he broke.
He knew it hurt you, damaging you from the inside out. You had tricked yourself into believing you loved him, or you kept telling yourself that because why else would he find you every night?
He hated that look on your face, your gorgeous smile and your big eyes glassy with adoration. He couldn’t bear it when you stared at him like he put the stars in the sky or like he was someone worth caring for.
You were made of hope and purity and all sorts of sweet things. You were weak and everything he had trained himself not to be.
Neteyam couldn’t love you. He could never allow himself something so innocent. So, he would have you at a distance. Just enough so as to not lose you.
It was a cruel system, but you were its keeper. You would live and die for him, and you would labor in vain for your lonely heart.
“You wanna love me right now
You wanna get alone with me
You wanna get my clothes off
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