⭒˗ˏˋ I ♡ Wednesday ˎˊ˗⭒ @iheartvanillamilkshakes - Tumblr Blog

Jul 29, 2025

Smells like trouble

Alpha!Neteyam x female human reader

Words: 23.3k (yes, i’m serious)

Summary: Neteyam is in trouble. There‘s a human in his home, a human female. And she smells dangerously close to something she certainly wasn’t. Sometimes she couldn’t ever be. An omega.

Warnings: explicit smut, enemies to lovers, p in v, omegaverse, knotting, biting, bite marking, fated mates, pheromones, extreme scent kink, scent marking, dom/sub, dirty talk, humiliation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, size kink, belly bulge, teasing, bullying, praise and degradation, alien biology, masturbation, complicated emotions and inner turmoils from both sides, alcohol consumption, drunk reader, slight dub con warning, squirting, mentions of blood & blood consumption (it’s literally just a drop)

On the list of things that were not supposed to happen, finding a stranger in his home ranked astonishingly high.

And this, this was definitely not supposed to happen. There was a human in his home, a human female. And she smelled dangerously close to something she certainly wasn’t. Sometimes she couldn’t ever be.

An omega.

This could only mean trouble.

On an instant, Neteyam’s instincts sharpened, a flicker of unease rippling through him. He kept his distance, though every fiber of his being screamed at him to move into your embrace. Your foreign scent enveloped him. It wrapped around him like a rope, pulling him closer, yet he managed to remain frozen in place. He was still standing in the doorway of his kelku [home], but he could already smell you on every surface of his home. This was impossible.

The alpha in him purrs at the sweetness of it, a sound he barely has time to bite down.

Your scent was soft but unmistakable, curling around him like a beckoning call, stirring something primitive and unwanted in the back of his mind. His teeth clenched. This cannot be happening.

Neteyam feels the tingle from his nostrils on every breath he takes, all the way down to his knees that had grown weaker by the second. It was strange. Warmth suddenly blossoms in his chest and his head feels clouded. It’s the most enticing scent he has ever had the pleasure of smelling in his whole life. The strange feeling has already settled in and took roots deep within his mind and soul before he could even realize its meaning. It was the scent of a potential mate, the scent that meant you were chosen for him by eywa herself. Fertile and compatible. A perfect little omega to match the alpha in him, served to him on a silver platter.

And Neteyam hates it.

He‘s only been away for a month, and already there is someone occupying his personal space. His father had informed him about the new human refugees his clan had granted shelter. That with the amount of new people arriving, there was also a pressing need to make sacrifices for the greater good.

As he had approached high camp upon his arrival, he had seen all the new makeshift tents lined up in haphazard rows, the smell of smoke from cooking fires mingling with the crisp morning air and the sound of the sky people’s tongue mixing with that of his own people. A clear sign that the olo’eyktan had indeed followed through on his decision.

"There's just not enough room for everyone," his father had explained before he’d left, his voice heavy with the weight of responsibility. "We have to share what we have. It’s the only way to survive." But this didn't make it any easier for him. This whole time, he thought his kelku had been out of the question. It was his sanctuary, a place where he could retreat after long days, where he could think and relax without interruption. Now, it was a shared space, and with it came the inevitable loss of privacy and peace.

And the worst part?

The worst part was, that not only did he had to share his home with an unknown stranger, but with a human of all things. A human woman. One, that had his mating instincts going rampant by the first whiff of her scent invading his nostrils. It clung to the air like a whisper of danger, warm and sweet, with the unmistakable undertone of something primal, something that did not belong here.

Omega. Omega. Omega. Mate now, mate now, mate NOW.

Neteyam’s jaw tightened, his pulse quickening.

The very thought made his skin crawl. He had spent years harboring a deep-seated disdain for humans, viewing them as arrogant and reckless creatures, incapable of understanding the delicate balance of nature that his own people revered. Their brashness, their greed, and their insatiable curiosity that caused nothing but damage, destruction and misery were all traits he found utterly repugnant.

The dim glow of the bioluminescent lanterns flickered across your face. You were a small thing, even for a human. Your skin marked with smudges of dirt and faint scars. As he peered through the narrow opening of his tent, he watched you bustling about, your hair cascading in waves as you unpacked a basket of freshly picked fruits. You moved with an energy he found both perplexing and infuriating, humming a tune that grated on his nerves. To Neteyam, your very presence was a violation, an intrusion into the sanctity of his personal space and his life.

Your clothing was dull, black and grey, a stark contrast to the bright and colorful tones of his own attire, which he wore with pride, a reflection of his heritage. The fabric of human clothing clings to your form, shifting every time you reached for something, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of annoyance at how carefree you appeared, as if the weight of your circumstances didn’t burden you at all. As if you didn’t even feel what he felt in that very moment.

Logically, Neteyam knew that this was the case. That it wasn’t possible for a human to feel the same bond. That the sky people didn’t possess any equivalent to the mating bonds, scent glands and the instincts that came with it. And that you weren’t truly an omega. It was just not possible, not part of your biology. This must all be just an unfortunate coincidence. But that didn’t make it any less unfair.

Neteyam watched as you knelt to arrange some things out of a backpack, the way you smiled at the small trinkets you pulled from it, a camera, a book. To him, each item was a reminder of the world he had tried to distance himself from. It didn’t belong here. And you, you were too bright, too alive, and it made his chest tighten with an unfamiliar mix of anger and something else he refused to acknowledge.

Neteyam had never wanted to coexist with humans, much less share a roof with one. And now here you were, and eywa was trying to signal to him that you were meant to be his. His instincts told him that he should claim you. Mark you. Breed you. And as the reality of his situation sank in, he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his jaw set in a grim line. He would endure this arrangement, he told himself. But he would do so on his own terms, keeping his distance and maintaining the cold walls he'd built around himself. And he would not entertain any of these mating instincts for even a second longer than necessary. For Neteyam, this was not just an inconvenience; it was a challenge to his very identity, and he would not back down so easily.

But then he had entered his kelku, and all color had drained from his face at the moment you turned to look at him. When he’d stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, the smell grew more potent, teasing at the edges of his control. His instincts flared in warning, urging him on.

The mating pull, one he thought was strictly reserved for his own kind, was stronger than he anticipated.

And your scent— a blend of spineberry fruit and something he couldn't quite place, something warm and inviting that made him crave proximity. It was intoxicating, a siren call that resonated deep within his being, awakening instincts he thought he'd only ever feel for a woman of the people. One, he simply hadn’t met yet. Not you, definitely not you.

He didn't understand it. Did all humans produce this kind of intense scent? He'd always been fine around the hundreds of humans he could smell just right outside his home. Although the sky people’s natural scent was rather unpleasant in their own way, it never bothered him that much before.

And he'd never been frenzied for it, desperate to smell it, taste it, feel it, have it cover his skin until it masked his own damn scent.

This was already fraying his nerves.

He liked being in control of his desires, of himself, until he decided to let his instincts as an alpha take control. But this? This he wasn't accustomed to, this he didn't know how to navigate, and he knew for sure that he didn't particularly liked it.

Neteyam fought to maintain his composure, but the way you turned to look at him, curiosity mingling with caution, sent a surge of warmth through his chest. Your eyes, bright and expressive, seemed to recognize something in him that he was only beginning to understand. It was as if you were a mirror reflecting desires he had buried deep beneath layers of duty and restraint.

"You're not supposed to be here," he managed to utter, his voice a low growl, betraying the turmoil within him. He could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric, as if eywa herself conspired to bring you together, like metal to a magnet, a flower to light.

"Uhm… hi?" You say, "Who a–"

"This is my home. And you are not supposed to be here," he cuts in, a little more harsh than he originally intended and you unintentionally straighten up at his voice, which nearly drives him mad. "I believe it’s best you find a different place to stay."

Your brows then furrow for a second, before they raise and a gentle smile crosses your features.

"Oh, you must be Neteyam! Your father has told me you would be on a mission for a couple of weeks and it would be no problem if–" You start, but Neteyam couldn’t even hear you anymore.

His neck already ached from staring down at you, but he wouldn't crouch. He'd bend for no one, especially not a little human wrapped in lush curves who couldn’t even grasp the situation you were in.

His fingertips tingled with the urge to grab your smaller frame and just bend you over the next best surface, so he balled them into fists at his sides. These urges are unnatural, for eywas sake! He should not entertain these fantasies about a woman –a human, he just met mere seconds ago, but the longer he stood in your presence, the harder it got for him to keep his thoughts clean and his mind clear.

With a groan of annoyance, he turned on his heels and left a dumbstruck human standing behind in his kelku [home].

This couldn’t be happening. He had to get rid of you before more words could even be exchanged. He wanted nothing to do with you.

Making his way through the crowded space of high camp, Neteyam was practically steaming.

Taking in the sight of the new arrivals of refugees mingling with familiar faces, he noticed they were weary and worn, eyes downcast as the new humans adjusted to the reality of their new life. Deep down, his heart ached for them; he understood their plight, but he couldn't shake the feeling of resentment that bubbled beneath the surface. It felt like an encroachment, a violation of his personal territory, and he found himself wishing for a moment of solitude, one that was no longer possible in this crowded, bustling community.

As he stepped closer, he could hear the laughter of the new occupants, children playing, voices rising in excitement. It was a reminder that while his world was becoming more populated, his own space was becoming increasingly confined. Helping the humans that was one thing. But being forced to live with one? His father had to understand that this was not something he was willing to do. Especially not now that every step away from his home, away from you, hurt like needles on the soles of his feet. Eywa, this mating bond was already getting on his nerves.

"Oh great mother, Neteyam. You will get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that."

After their grandmother’s passing, Kiri was the one to take over the place of the tsahìk, now occupying the healers tent for most of the day to check in on every new face that had joined the clan. And while Neteyam was proud of his sister for her accomplishments, he wasn’t any less annoyed by her teasing. Still, a request to the olo’eyktan was also a request to the tsahìk. And one day, they would rule together as brother and sister.

Neteyam’s frown deepened at Kiri’s comment, though her lighthearted tone did little to ease the tension knotting his shoulders. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the healer’s tent, grinding herbs into a paste with practiced ease. The air smelled of fresh poultices and burning sage, a scent that always reminded him of their grandmother.

"You’re awfully cheerful today," he muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned against one of the wooden support beams.

Kiri smirked, her golden eyes glinting mischievously. "Someone has to be, with you moping around like a lost nantang." She glanced up at him, her expression softening slightly. "What’s wrong, brother? You’re wound tighter than a strung bow."

"The human needs to be moved," Neteyam demands and he can’t help but notice the childish tone in his request.

Kiri gives a hearty laugh at that.

"So, I see you have met your new roommate." His sister sounds amused and smug and by eywa he should’ve known that Kiri was probably more responsible for this than his father.

"We aren’t roommates, Kiri. Remove her, find somewhere else where she can live," he grits his teeth, then opens his mouth again, but before he can protest further, the covers of the healers tent swing open and the olo’eyktan steps inside. Both siblings bow their heads in greeting.

"That's not happening, boy. We are low on space, and your tent is big enough for two." He says, his tone dismissive, yet there’s a comforting smile on the corner of his lips as he places a hand on his eldest sons shoulder, before moving around and handing something over at Kiri. A list, perhaps of the new refugees and the medical care they will require.

Neteyam’s jaw clenched. “She can’t stay with me,” he said firmly, trying to keep his voice steady.

Jake raised an eyebrow, his expression calm but stern. “And where do you suggest she goes, Neteyam? Every tent is already full, and the last thing we need is for someone to catch wind of my own son kicking a refugee out of his tent. A tent that is entirely too big for just one person, mind you."

Neteyam opened his mouth to argue, but the look in his father’s eyes silenced him. It wasn’t just a command; it was a reminder of the responsibility that came with being olo’eyktan in training.

"Yes, sir," he muttered reluctantly, his fists tightening at his sides.

He knows the cramped conditions are just part of their current situation, but he can’t keep his thoughts from the human woman rummaging through his things and filling his home with her sickening sweet scent. It makes the hair on the nape of his neck stand on edge. How was he supposed to ever face her again if he was barely able to breathe, let alone suppress his mating urges around her?

Kiri smirked, clearly enjoying his discomfort, as she called after him, "You’ll survive, brother. She’s just a human, how much trouble can she be?"

Neteyam exited in silence, only shooting her a last glare, as he closed the fabric of the tent.

Oh, sister, he thought. You have no idea…

Neteyam had never prayed for so long, nor with such perseverance. He desperately needed guidance but, for the first time in his life, he had received none. And he was ashamed that just as his anger, his desire for the strange human female had not abated either.

He had poured his heart into his prayer, kneeling for hours, baring his soul, confessing his anger, his confusion, his fear. Yet, nothing. No visions. No warmth. No sign. Just the endless hum of the the tree‘s invisible energy, its bioluminescent tendrils swaying softly in the gentle breeze.

It was well after eclipse before Neteyam was able to calm himself enough to set foot back into his own home, but when he did, all his praying and meditating was for nothing.

The whole tent smelled like you. You weren’t even here and he was thankful for whatever it was that you were up to, as long as it kept you away from him. Yet there's an aching emptiness that fills the space. It annoys him, the strength of the bond that is already connecting his soul to yours and Neteyam swallows hard, forcing himself to breathe through the tightness in his chest.

When he moves to the center of his tent, he finds several of your belongings mindlessly tossed to the floor and other corners. Great mother help him. You’re messy.

He clenches his jaw, surveying the chaos that has swiftly invaded what was once his orderly sanctuary. A pile of shirts lies crumpled in a heap next to his neatly arranged bedroll, and a couple of books, their spines cracked and pages dog-eared, lay sprawled across the floor as if they had been abandoned mid-thought.

His heart sinks further as he steps over a pair of shoes that are haphazardly kicked off, one facing east and the other west, like they were in a fight with each other. The sight of it sends a prickling annoyance through him, and he fights the urge to scream. How could someone be so careless?

His meticulous nature clashes violently with the chaos you’ve introduced. He can almost hear his mother’s voice in his head, reminding him of the importance of keeping things tidy, of respecting one's space.

He strides toward the mess, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Each step feels heavy as he navigates through discarded items. He picks up a shirt, the fabric soft and wrinkled, and scowls. It’s almost as if it’s mocking him, smelling so much like you, reminding him of your carefree spirit that he resents.

He tosses the shirt in a pile he’d started for your things, a silent declaration that this is your responsibility, not his. It’s infuriating, how you can just live in chaos without a second thought. So typical for a human.

Neteyam grumbles, shaking his head as he scans the room once more, his irritation boiling just below the surface.

He knows he shouldn’t be this angry, but the mess feels like an invasion, a disruption of his carefully curated life. He prides himself on cleanliness and order, being the one with a plan that thinks ahead– and you already feel like a wild storm tearing through his carefully built walls.

He exhales slowly, trying to regain his composure. "You need to clean this up," he says aloud, even though you’re not here to hear him. It’s more of a plea than a command, a desperate wish for balance in his life once again. The thought of having to confront you about it fills him with dread, but he knows he can’t let this go on.

As he picks up another book, he can’t help but notice that there is one area where you scent seems strongest.

Involuntary, Neteyam feels himself being pulled to the space where his bedroll lays.

With flaring nostrils he takes in the rumpled sheets that show clear signs of you having slept in his bed during his absence. He would have to change them, he thought. Lifting them up and holding them to his nose, a pleasant shudder runs up his spine. And then, to his surprise, all anger suddenly melts into something else. It burns hot under his skin in the same way though.

Allowing himself to give in with the promise that this is a one-time deal, and then he will avoid you altogether, Neteyam strips off his clothes and climbs under the covers.

He’s so bone-tired exhausted from his travels, but your light floral scent drifts around him, causing his mind to go hazy again. You’re like a drug.

Neteyam hates the feeling of having no control over myself. This is all so new to him. He’s strong willed and determined, and he never. Never before, has let himself get this affected by a woman before. But here he is, completely thrown off balance by your scent, let alone the thought of you in his bed.

Kiri knew exactly what she was doing by putting you with him…

He remembers the countless hours spent training, honing his skills as a warrior, preparing to defend his home and his family and one day taking up the role as olo’eyktan. Yet, now that you wandered into his life, all that preparation seems trivial. He feels like a kid again, caught off guard by the flutter of emotions he thought he had long mastered.

Neteyam shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He can’t afford to lose himself in any fantasies. You’re not his mate. Not an omega. Can’t be. There is too much at stake, too many responsibilities to shoulder, a clan to lead. And you’re too… too human. Weak and fragile and surely this must’ve been a mistake. Even eywa could make them, right? But the more he fights it, the more he feels the pull.

Soaking his heated skin in your scent, he tosses and turns in his bed, until he physically can’t hold still any longer. His fingers card through his braids, blunt nails scraping his skin before he runs a hand down his throat and over his chest. His heart is a beating drum underneath his ribs and he lets his hands wander further down, over his abs and past the low dip of his navel. Goosebumps raise all over his skin and his breath hitches when he wraps a hand around his pulsing cock. He’s hard and aching already. Fisting the sheets with his other, he pulls them to his core and envelopes his length in the fabric that smells so much like you.

Fuck. This is wrong. So wrong.

Squeezing the tip of his cock, where it turns from blue into a faint hue of purple, he forces the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. It soaks the sheets wrapped around his base and he groans. There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he inhales deeply, your scent fills his nostrils and he bites down on his lip to hold in a moan.

He begins to pump his length with hard, fast movements, imagining it's you on his cock. It’s a mouth watering image in front of his minds eye. Your smaller form on top of him, your back arched, your hips rolling. And Neteyam, rolling right back, on his elbows, mouthing your throat, your collar bone, feeling the way you would squeeze around his length as you ride him. You’re probably so damn tight, it would drive him out of his skin. A look of pure bliss on your stupid annoying face as he meets your rhythm with hungry thrusts of his own, your heavy breasts bouncing near his mouth. Neteyam imagines his large hands toying with your pink pert nipples and touching every surface of your soft human skin, a thought that's so strangely arousing to think about that even more beads of pre-cum begin to drip down the bulbous head of his cock.

Stroking himself faster, he imagines running his tongue along your skin, imagines how rich it would taste of you. It’s such a perverted fantasy, so shamefully dirty that the sheer thought of voicing those fantasies makes his cock throb so hard that his breath catches in his throat.

He‘s certainly no virgin, but the image of you that Neteyam has conjured is too much for him. Having your scent envelop him was a mistake, but he cannot stop himself now as he pumps his hand faster. Gritting his teeth, a low whine keening at the back of his throat, he feels his release getting closer, and his canine begin to ache, begging to bite and claim. His knot swells and throbs, so he kneads the tissue of flesh with his other hand.

Just a few hard, fast paced strokes later and his seed soaks the sheet wrapped around his cock in thick spurts. Neteyam groans a deep sound of pleasure followed by a low growl, squeezing his eyes shut. He‘s gripping his throbbing length as he empties himself to the thought of your tear streaked, well-fucked expression and the fantasy of soaking your mouth, cunt and every hole in your body with his cum. Eywa, how he wished he could do this, instead of these fabrics that could only mirror your scent and not your warmth and possible tightness.

Neteyams breath comes out ragged and heavy, but it’s the only noise in his dark, empty home.

Once post-clarity hits him, he’s more than just appalled with myself. The sheets are cold and sticky, his skin flushed with sweat. And he just fist fucked himself to the image of a human that he barely knows, one he so very rudely shooed out of his home before you could even introduce yourself. The human that made his mating instincts loose control. And on top of that, you’re utterly clueless and completely unaware that you’ve just been the center of his deprived thoughts and perverted fantasies.

How much more shameful could he be?

— ✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩ —

Your new roommate hates you. Fucking great.

You don’t even know how exactly you did it. Usually, it took people an approximate time spent with you to start disliking all your odd little quirks. But with Neteyam, it was instantaneous.

That night when you had come home, you really thought he had cooled down. God, how you had hoped this was the case. You thought he’d just given you attitude that day because he was tired from his travels and just surprised at finding a stranger –an alien on top of that, in his home. But no.

You had barely stepped foot into the shared space of your new home when his golden eyes flicked over you, narrowing just slightly, but enough to make your stomach twist.

The introductions were awkward and brief. Neteyam, tall, graceful, and exuding a quiet confidence, made it painfully clear that he wasn’t thrilled to be saddled with a roommate, especially not you.

He made it very clear that even with your temporary living situation, you and him would have to continue to live separate lives. That this wasn’t the beginning of new friendship or bond or whatever fairy tail story you had imagined.

And so far, he made sure to keep that promise.

He didn’t even engage in much conversation with you. Not after the brief discussion of him offering up his freshly made bed and telling you to shut up about it, nor after waking up and sitting in silence as you munched on the fruit you had picked yesterday morning. He didn’t even say his goodbye as he stomped out of the door shortly after breakfast. God, you’ve never met a man this moody before.

Day after day, the tension lingered. Every attempt to spark a conversation was met with clipped responses, if not outright silence. Occasionally, you tried to be friendly, throwing out a casual "Hey" or “How was your day?” but the responses were always short, barely above a whispered grumble and the question was never returned to you, not even out of politeness. He moved around the tent with the precision of someone who was avoiding you on purpose.

It was maddening.

You couldn’t even pinpoint what you’d done to warrant the hostility. Was it the way you unpacked? The music you played? The way you dressed? The moment your stomach growled too loud during dinner? It was like walking on eggshells. Eggshells that Neteyam seemed perfectly content to leave scattered in your path.

Not to mention, you definitely took notice of the amount of time he cleaned and wiped every surface you had touched and immediately went to wash the blanket and pillow you had used throughout the night right after you woke. It was as if he was disgusted by you, your presence and possibly even your odd human scent and didn’t even bother to hide it, if his facial expressions were anything to go by.

Every little thing you did seemed to annoy Neteyam, and he wasn’t shy about showing it.

One morning, you accidentally spilled a bit of water while pouring yourself a cup. Before you could even reach for a piece of fabric, Neteyam was already there, snatching it from your hands with an exasperated sigh.

"Do you even know how to clean up after yourself?" he muttered, wiping away the water with the precision of someone scrubbing away a toxic spill.

"I was about to—", you began, but he’d cut you off with a dismissive wave.

"Next time, don’t wait. This isn’t your personal mess hall."

Then there was the time you struggled to carry a heavy crate of supplies into your shared home. You hadn’t realized how bulky it would be, and the weight threw you off balance. Neteyam stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching as you wobbled under the strain.

"A ittle help?" You gasped, hopeful.

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You brought it in. You can finish the job."

You nearly dropped the crate, your arms trembling, but he didn’t so much as budge to assist. Only when you managed to get it to the table did he speak again. "Maybe next time, you’ll think ahead."

And then there were the lectures. Oh, how he loved those.

The lectures were almost a ritual by now, as inevitable as sunrise and more often than not the only form of communication that took place between the two of you. Neteyam seemed to delight in every opportunity to remind you how little you knew about his world, how pathetic you were in his eyes and how your human ways were a constant source of irritation.

One evening, you’d returned from a walk with dirt smudged on your boots. The moment you stepped inside, Neteyam froze, his eyes flicking to the floor, where a few small clumps of dirt had fallen on the neatly woven floor. He had let out a slow, deliberate breath, as though summoning every ounce of patience in his body.

"Do you humans have no respect for the spaces you occupy?" He’d said, voice low but sharp, gesturing to the floor.

"Relax, I was going to clean it up," you muttered, bending to grab a cloth. But he wasn’t done.

"That’s not the point,” he continued, crossing his arms. "You should’ve removed your boots outside. You’re careless. Always acting without thinking."

Another time, you tried to cook dinner, thinking it might ease some of the tension. You’d gathered ingredients from the clan, carefully following a recipe you thought would impress him. But the second Neteyam walked in, he wrinkled his nose and stopped dead in his tracks.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, striding over to the fire place.

"Making dinner?" You said, genuinely confused by his tone and what you did wrong this time.

Then he had picked up one of the roots you’d been slicing and held it up like it was evidence in a trial. "This is meant to be boiled, not roasted," he said, his voice heavy with disdain. "Do you know how much time it takes to grow something like this? You’re ruining it."

"I thought it’d taste better roasted—"

"You thought?" He interrupted, his laugh humorless. "Next time, leave the thinking to someone who knows what they’re doing."

Even when you tried to immerse yourself in his culture, it was never enough. Once, you’d spent hours trying to weave a simple loincloth after watching his sister craft them with such skill. When you proudly wore your finished work, his unwanted comment was less than encouraging.

"The weave is too loose. It won’t last a day in the wild."

By the time he finished lecturing you about how to properly tension each strand and pointing out all the mistakes you’ve made, your excitement had long since deflated.

Even something as small as choosing food became an ordeal. You once grabbed a fruit you hadn’t seen before, eager to try it, but Neteyam snatched it from your hands.

"That’s not for you," he said curtly.

"Why? Is it poisonous or something?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, but it’s not meant for clumsy hands that don’t appreciate what they’re holding."

It was like this constantly: a relentless barrage of scorn and thinly veiled disdain. Every interaction felt like a reminder that you didn’t belong here, and Neteyam seemed determined to make sure you never forgot it.

It wasn’t an active kind of dark loathing that cripples the soul that you felt for him –that kind of hatred was firmly reserved for bastards like your ex-boss. Ardmore and Neteyam had nothing in common, thank God for small mercies. You still didn’t know him very well, but at least Neteyam didn’t manipulate or scheme. His disdain for you, while constant, was at least straightforward.

Neteyam wasn’t cruel, not in the ways that truly scarred. His criticism, though sharp, lacked malice. It was more like he was delivering a harsh truth he believed you needed to hear. It didn’t make it easier to stomach, but at least you knew where you stood. With Ardmore, every word had been a calculated move, every kind gesture laced with a hidden blade. Neteyam’s hostility, on the other hand, was raw and honest, if infuriating.

Still, that didn’t mean living with him was easy.

He still embodied every single trait that you quietly despise. Already you could tell that he was as uptight, arrogant and entitled as only the son of a chief could be, his ego weighted more than he did, and, to cap it all, he was a goddamn perfectionist.

You found yourself clenching your fists and biting your tongue more often than not, the snarky retorts dying on your lips because you knew they’d only escalate things. Instead, you bottled it up, letting it simmer until it came out in small, petty ways. Leaving tools or clothes scattered around after Neteyam’s meticulous cleaning, or humming an annoying tune just loud enough for him to hear. Nothing too obvious, just enough to scratch the itch of rebellion.

It didn’t seem to bother him any more than anything else you did, though, which was even more frustrating. Most of the time, when Neteyam wasn’t lecturing or humiliating you, he was just bluntly ignoring your very existence. He didn’t even pretend to know you as you walked past each other in the village. It was like living with a ghost— one that was very much alive and very much an asshole.

Well, from what you’ve heard, it was understandable that your social skills might suffer if you’ve dedicated your entire existence to relentless training and working out, while simultaneously fighting in a war between two species. Meanwhile everyone else your age gets to have a childhood and experience normal teenager stuff before they enter adulthood.

If you’d spent your formative years with the weight of an entire clan’s expectations on your shoulders, constantly preparing for life-or-death situations, you’d probably be a little tightly wound too. Still, it didn’t excuse him treating you like an annoying bug buzzing around his otherwise orderly existence.

Poor guy was in his late twenties and so uptight, you‘d be surprised if he’s ever been laid before. Not with that attitude, though. And you’d actually believe that to be true, if it weren’t for the scene that was currently playing out in front of you.

Whoever this guy was, this was not the Neteyam you knew.

For hours now, he sat in the center of a lively gathering around a fireplace, a confident smile on his lips and an easy laugh spilling freely from him, as he effortlessly engaged with everyone around him.

They were celebrating the return of their golden child. The brats been away for a month and the whole clan was throwing him a party. Unbelievable.

All night, the people had been flocked to him, their faces beaming with admiration as they congratulated him on the success of his recent mission.

Women in the clan seemed particularly drawn to him, their eyes sparkling with interest as they playfully flirted and tossed compliments his way. Some of them had even leaned just a bit closer throughout the conversation as he told them stories of his travels, their hands brushing his arms and occasionally holding onto his biceps as their shrill laughter made your ears ring.

And god, that grin of his as he was practically showering in all the attention he was given, yet pretending to be nothing but a humble saint. Ugh. He‘s so full of himself, you thought as you scrunched your nose in disgust.

You stood awkwardly at the edge of the gathering, nursing a drink and watching the scene unfold. This version of Neteyam, the charismatic, charming leader who seemed to light up the entire space, was a complete stranger to you. His stern, uptight exterior was nowhere to be found.

Neteyam’s gaze then flicked towards you, his grin faltering for a fraction of a second before he recovered.

Not just an asshole, but arrogant as well. You could tell by the way his eyes scanned the crowd every once in a while, stopping just to peak in your direction as if he wanted to know that you were seeing him, seeing the way he was loved and adored by all and everyone, before he adverted his gaze completely and continued his conversation as if you didn’t even exist.

Lifting your mask up to empty yet another cup of whatever this liquor was called, your body gave a little shiver in response to the fuzzy feeling running down your throat and filling your stomach with warmth.

As you observed the scene, it became increasingly difficult to reconcile this charismatic figure with the rude guy you were to call your new roommate. Neteyam was not just popular; they were obsessed with him. He was genuinely loved and adored by his clan, their excitement to have him back made that much clear. But the way they rallied around him made it evident that he was more than just a cornerstone of their community. Neteyam was their golden child, the best, the one they put all their hopes into, the one that was wanted and desired.

Of course he would despise your kind. Neteyam, the na‘vi in general, they were beautiful, elegant and yet strong and seemingly flawless beings. And you, you were an intruder of his home, destroying every sense of peace these beings had ever known.

And having to witness such a different side of him, while knowing just how cold and rude he could be towards you, sparked a wave of jealousy deep within you. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you watched him charm everyone around him, their faces lighting up in his presence while you stood off to the side, feeling invisible. It was hard not to compare yourself to them, so effortlessly engaging and carefree, while you struggled to even get a smile or a kind word from him.

All you wanted was to make friends, to feel included in the joy and laughter that surrounded Neteyam. But instead, there was a chasm between you and him, one that seemed to grow wider as you watched him bask in the adoration of the crowd. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness creeping in. Why did he have to be so wonderful to everyone else while being so dismissive towards you?

It felt unfair that you were trying so hard to fit in, to find your place among the clan, while he seemed to effortlessly command the attention and affection of everyone around him. You took another sip from your cup, the warmth of the liquor doing little to soothe the ache in your chest.

As the laughter and music continued to swirl around you, you felt a mix of envy and loneliness wash over you. You wanted to be part of that world, to share in the joy and camaraderie, but instead, you felt like a shadow lurking at the edge of the celebration. And with every moment that passed, the distance between you and Neteyam felt like an insurmountable wall, leaving you wondering if you would ever break through.

— ✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩ —

It’s not fair.

Everywhere he goes, it seems you’re already there to torture him with your presence alone.

He feels your shadow before he sees you, the faint ripple of your existence pressing against his every nerve. He’s not sure if it’s hatred or obsession, or if there’s a difference anymore.

Even at his own damn celebration, he can hardly focus on the words being spoken around him. All he can think about is you, sitting there on the opposite site of the big fire and watching him through the flames. His mind is playing tricks on him, flooding his thoughts with possible what-if‘s.

You’re sitting there all alone, what if another male approaches you? What if you drink too much of the swoa [intoxicating beverage] and can’t find home? It’s a pretty strong liquor and you’re such a tiny thing. You’ve had way too much of it already and he should excuse himself and get up to stop you, but no. He can’t do that.

For days he‘s been trying to avoid you, and he doesn’t even know if you’re doing it on purpose, but you’ve already made this much harder for him than it needed to be. He just wants to keep his distance, but it seems like you’re everywhere. Your scent is calling to him, your voice is driving him insane, your name in other people’s mouths makes him jealous beyond belief. How is he supposed to get his mating instincts under control when everything you do is going straight under his skin? How is he supposed to get anything done when you’re all he can think about?

"Just a little more and there’s a hole in the side of her face, bro."

"What?" Neteyams head whips around so fast, his brother and the annoying human equivalent of him both snort a chuckle that make his brows furrow in irritation. Shoving a bright pink berry between his lips, Lo‘ak tips his chin in your direction and mumbles, "You’re staring at her again."

"I‘m not staring." He defends, although too quick to make it sound truly believable.

"Of course you’re not," his younger brother sighs and then, after a moment, "So when are you finally going to talk to her, huh? One more of these drinks and she’s not going to remember much of it, so better be quick."

"I‘m not–" Neteyam begins, then pauses and takes a deep breath that relaxes his shoulders, before he starts over. "I don’t plan on talking to her. We‘re merely roommates for the time being because she is in need of shelter and that is all. She’s annoying and messy and she reeks of human." He shakes his head and scrunched his nose as if to demonstrate his distaste of the little demon.

"Let me just pretend I didn’t hear that," Spider casually chimed in, which he expertly ignored. Not that the blonde minded. He just shrugged and bit down a playful grin, being used to Neteyams tendency to dislike his race.

"She’s actually pretty nice if you’d just gave her a chance." Lo‘ak nudged his side, giving him a sympathetic smile.

One of Neteyams brows raised as he glanced sideways at his younger brother. "How would you know?"

"Who do you think was showing her around while you were gone and told her not to touch your shit or you’d loose your mind, Mr. always-tidy-and-perfect?" Both, Lo‘ak and Spider, laughed at the truth of his words, while he had barely anything to even smile about.

Neteyam had a hard time listening at all since the conversation had even begun. All he could focus on was the anger that clenched in his gut as he watched you from afar, carelessly downing another cup of very strong swoa [intoxicating beverage]. Your cheeks had began taking up a warm rosy color that only added to his worry and the suspicion that you were more than just tipsy by now.

"She was even looking forward on meeting you. Before you decided on being a complete dick to her, I mean." Lo‘ak unknowingly added more fuel to the fire that already burned hot in his veins.

"Hm," Neteyam only grunts his acknowledgement, grinding his teeth. "My point still stands. I tolerate her because I must. And the sooner we will build more room for the refugees, the better. I can’t wait to get rid of her and her- her human scent and her human things littering my home!" His voice has grown louder and angrier the more he thought of you, the more he thought about the irreversible bond that he tried so hard to ignore.

"Oh, great." A look is exchanged between the two brothers of whom one Neteyam wouldn’t even consider his family’s pet, yet his younger siblings seemed to be very fond of. Spider suddenly moved to stand, straightening his loincloth and fastening the bow string that sat across his chest.

Lo‘aks mischievous smile sends the hair on the nape of his neck raising and Neteyam suspiciously squints his eyes at him. Lo’ak then clears his throat and asks, "so, you don’t mind that Spider is going to take his chance at–"

"Fuck that." He stands so abruptly, two pair of eyes immediately land on him, all words dying on his brothers tongue. "You," he points at Spider who had barely made it one step forward, "sit back down."

"Yes, sir," the vrrtep [demon] chuckles, then holds his hands up in surrender before he does as he’s told.

The leaves crunch angrily under his feet as Neteyam stomps over to you. He doesn’t know why his brothers teasing suddenly drives him so out of his skin. Why the thought of Spider talking to you makes his blood boil and his head pound in anger. It’s so untypical for him. He‘s never been so short tempered and possessiv of someone. Let alone someone he doesn’t even want!

But Neteyam's steps falter as someone unexpectedly steps into his path, blocking his direct approach to you. He lets out an irritated grunt, his brow furrowing in frustration as he looks at the individual in his way.

"Ah, Neteyam, my boy."

It’s Akwey, former olo’eyktan of the Olangi Clan. A significant portion of his clan did not survive the great war from before Neteyam was even born. In the aftermath of the battle, the surviving members of the Olangi clan found refuge and integration with the Omatikaya. Akwey is still a well respected member of the clan, a friend and ally of his father and part of the council of elders, therefore it wouldn’t be wise to just sent him off. Even if Neteyam wanted to do nothing more than to rush past him.

"It's good to see you back. Tell me, how did your mission to the southern borders fare? Were you successful in your endeavors?"

Neteyam, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected topic of conversation, paused before responding. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he realized the elder's intention to engage in light conversation rather than delve into deeper matters.

But even has he told Akwey about his recent travels, sharing lighthearted laughs and friendly words with his fathers old friend, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering over his shoulder to where you were seated. Or was, to be more specific. During his conversation, you had managed to leave, although stumbling and on unsteady feet, in the direction of the forest.

Neteyam knew that this couldn’t be the direction you intended to take, because the way to your shared home was the exact opposite way.

With all possible respect and an apology that wasn’t as sincere as he tried to make it sound, he finally managed to make his escape and end this conversation in favor of rushing after you. With a smile on his lips and a proud clasp to his shoulder he was excused and Neteyams feet quickly carried him away from Akwey, away from the clearing, the celebration and the rest of the clan.

Although his sense of smell was keen and he would’ve easily been able to track your footsteps through the forest, he didn’t had to walk far to find you.

There, on a moss covered log, you sit. The sound of a sniffle pierced his heart as he slowly approached, your head shooting up and your shoulder tensing under his gaze before he could even open his mouth to speak.

"W-What?", you bark at him, the defensive and downright aggressive tone in your voice taking him by surprise, "if you want to lecture me or anything, I don’t want to hear it."

I don’t, he thinks, but choose to stay silent. He prefers to just stand and listen, see what the drunk version of you would do if you had already decided to be so bold with him.

"Stop staring at me!" You balled your fist at your sides, anger and frustration clearly written all over your face. "G-God, yes, I know I must look so pathetic to you right now…" He thinks about agreeing, but bites his tongue instead. "I bet the golden child himself has never been so em-embarrassingly drunk before, r-right?" You throw your arms up as you gestured wildly.

A chuckle almost escapes him, but before you can take notice, you’re already standing, ready to continue your journey to wherever you thought this path would lead you. Your legs however had other plans. Tipping over your own clumsy feet, you barely manage to keep yourself upright.

'Drunk' really was an underestimation, he realized.

Neteyams hands almost instinctively reached out to steady you, but you swatted them away like a stubborn child that insisted that it didn’t need any help.

"Leave me alone, Neteyam… I can take perfect care of myself!" What a very fitting statement to his previous thoughts.

"Home‘s the other way." He says ever so nonchalantly, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. He would never admit it out loud, but the blush of embarrassment that was now evident on your cheeks and even your collarbone was a very satisfying view.

"I- I know that," you stammered and great mother you couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried.

Raising a brow, Neteyam decided to play into your embarrassment, teasing you further just for the fun of it. "Oh, do you?" He asked, a playful smile grazing his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. His tail curled behind his back in excitement.

"You’re s-so full of yourself!" You nearly exploded as you plopped back down, sounding more childish than ever. "All week you’ve been ignoring me, treating me like i don’t even exist and now you decide is the time to come and talk to me again? Why? Just so you can look down at me and laugh? Because the dumb little human got too drunk?"

Yes.

"No."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want to make sure you find back home without injuring yourself, skxawng [idiot/moron]." That was at least partly the truth.

Your shoulders relaxed a bit at this. "Wait. Really?"

"Just because you and me aren’t friends doesn’t mean you’re any less of a responsibility to me," Neteyam explained as he stared down at you. "You live in my home and my father would skin me alive if anything were to happen to you."

Not to mention the uncomfortable feeling of unease that gnawed at his very being at the thought of you wandering around at night all alone. As much as he wanted to hide it, Neteyam had this strong urge to protect you. To care for you, how any alpha would do for his mate. But he would rather fight a palulukan with his bare hands than tell you that.

To his surprise, you let your head fall back and give a heartfelt laugh. "I‘m not your responsibility, Sully."

Sully. You’ve called him that before and Neteyam has never taken the sound of his own family name with a grain of salt before. But he simply prefers to hear his name coming out your mouth, his own and not his family’s.

"Unfortunately, you are," Neteyam then sighs under his breath.

"Oh, spare me", you roll your eyes at him at that, before you begin with your second attempt on getting away from him. "I mean it, I can walk by myself."

But the moment you manage to stand up straight without stumbling, he demonstratively pushes you back down with just a single finger against your chest. You easily fall back onto your bottom with a soft thud.

"No you can’t," he says.

"This is–", a breathy laugh escapes you, much to his surprise, "this is ridiculous." More giggles burst out of you the longer you seem to think about it, until you’re full on laughing and clutching your stomach. Neteyam just stands there, arms crossed and brows raised high and he‘s worried you might’ve consumed more than just liquor. Knowing Lo‘ak and Spider, he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them had given you any 'ampirikx root [kava] just for the fun of it. That stuff would knock you into next week, no doubt. But not even these two knuckleheads would be stupid enough to do something like this to you. Not when Neteyam had been watching you like a hawk all night.

Once your laughter had finally settled down and you had lifted your mask up for a terrifying second to wipe your tears away, you glance back up at him with a sigh.

"Good, now what, genius? Do you really want to keep me here in the forest until I sober up?" You ask with a hint of humor.

"Of course not," he shakes his head and then takes a step forward. "How do you want me to carry you?"

"Carry me? Are you serious?" You laugh, until you realize that his expression hadn’t changed and Neteyam was, in fact, completely serious.

In that moment, something shifted. A playful smile crept back onto your lips, but this time it was different. Your eyes sparked with what looked dangerously close to mischief and leaning in slightly, you then asked, "Well, how do you want to carry me?“

By the tone in your voice, it wasn’t hard to forget that you were still pretty much drunk. Unfortunately and up to this point, Neteyam had almost forgotten. Forgotten or repressed, one could argue about that.

But then he thought back to his brothers words about you most likely not being able to remember the night going by the amount of liquor you’ve had throughout the celebration. Taking another step closer to you, Neteyams tongue swiped over his bottom lip, the temptation too strong to resist and so he decided to be bold and playful with you just this once. Just because he could and because the consequences were barely to none existent. You would most likely forget about this conversation by tomorrow.

"I want to throw you over my shoulder and spank your ass so hard you can’t sit straight for a week, because you got so drunk and then decided to be a brat about it. That is how." The grin on his lips was a dangerous one and he took his sweet time to let this new information soak in.

For a moment you looked too stunned to speak or even move at all, but then the intoxicated blush deepened on your cheeks and you began to grin.

"Then why don’t you?"

Neteyam scoffs and half smiles at this. Clearly drunk.

"Alright, let’s get you home before you get any more insufferable."

"Oh is that a smile? You can smile?" And for the first time you laughed so lightheartedly around him, it made goosebumps break out all over his skin. Rolling his eyes, he grumbled, "Don’t get used to it." And then kneeled down enough for you to wrap your arms around his neck so he could carry you bridal style.

The walk to his kelku was longer than Neteyam remembered. Part of the reason for that was probably the human in his arms that normally didn’t even look in his direction, let alone speak to him for more than necessary, but was now drunkenly rambling all the way back home without a break.

The words "go to bed" were probably muttered with too much annoyance, but Neteyam was entirely too tired to care.

However, his luscious little walking nightmare had the audacity to remain frozen in place. When he quirked a brow at you, wondering why you didn’t just turn around and leave, you asked,

"Can you help me with that? Your sister has helped me put it on but the knots are so complicated and I don’t want to accidentally rip it."

Sweeping your hair over your shoulder you then turned your back to him, exposing smooth skin and the backside of the neatly woven top that Kiri had made for you. Or with you, to be exact. His sister was a great teacher and Neteyam had to thank her one day for coming up with a design so fitting for a human like you and at the same time curse her for being the reason you wore something so revealing when you normally hid all your skin beneath layers and layers of fabric.

There’s a small knot that sits on the nape of your neck and one that sits just below your shoulder blades. They’re bound tightly, but Neteyams fingers are skilled enough. When the first one opens, the fabric on your front loosen drastically, but you don’t make a move to hold it together.

Neteyam gulps.

This was a dangerous game. He could just lean to the side and he’d get a glimpse of your sideboob.

His hands are colder than your skin, and he waits for you to complain when he traces the burning line of your shoulder up to your neck. You break out in goosebumps where his fingers were, but don’t say anything. His hands are just there, with a mind of their own, sliding from your shoulders to holding onto your hips and then skimming further to untie the next knot.

When he loosens that last knot, the top flutters nearly silently to the ground in front of your feet. Your breathing comes out heavier, chest raising and falling, and eywa he would be an idiot to not take advantage of it.

His hands begin to wander before he could make the decision to do so, roaming from your hips to your front. They carefully run over the softness of your belly, up to your ribcage, until he feels the swell of your breasts.

A shiver courses through you like electricity, but you remain quiet.

Neteyam considers stepping back and take his leave. That would be the right thing to do. He knows he should not take this any further or he’d be unable to resist you ever again.

But when he retracts his hands, immediate mourning the loss of your warmth, you do something unexpected. On slow, still unsteady feet, you turn around to face him. You had to crane your neck all the way up to look at him. The sight of your bare chest and the flush that spread from your cheeks all the way down to your pretty nipples was enough to hypnotize him to the point he didn’t even realize you had lifted your arms and unclasped your mask.

Sucking in a breath, you took it upon yourself to raise to your tiptoes and pull him into a kiss with a hand on his neck.

Neteyam blinks, stunned.

Your lips are so incredibly soft, so easy to melt into, and when your warm wet tongue swipes over his bottom lip to beg for entry, he can’t stop himself from kissing you back just as fiercely. The taste of you is something straight out of every alphas dream. It’s sweet and delicious and you’re so warm and pliant. When Neteyam wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you in tight, you use that last bit of breath to give him a soft little moan. And that’s when his mind went blank.

You have to force and shove him back in order to swipe your mask back on, giggling at the shameless display of his desperation. He was making a fool out of himself, but every instinct inside him told him to bend you over and force his knot into you until your belly would swell.

One of his hands slipped to your ass so he could grip it, knead it, just fucking hold the perfect thing, as he brought the other to your waist to make sure you couldn't escape him.

A whiff of your scent invaded his nostrils and Neteyam was sure by the look on your face that his pupils must’ve been fully blown by now.

Suddenly, Neteyam wanted every strand of hair, every bit of flesh, every drop of blood, every cell, every fibre that belonged to that little human that got on his nerves every waking minute of the day. He wanted to greedily consume it and have you consume him in return.

The hair on the nape of his neck raised as a shiver ran through him, and the thought of showing his desires so outrageous and obvious to you drove him mad. All that he worked so hard for over the past few weeks was for nothing in this very moment.

Neteyam was so ready to blast you for being such a messy, annoying, weak and dumb little human, but it was like these primal urges to mate you completely overtook his ability to think rationally. Because he opens his mouth to put an end to this and shoo you away, but ends up shoving your mask back up and kissing you instead.

Your eyes fly open when he jams his mouth against yours, then flutter closed again when you melt against him. He's rough with you, tangling a handful of your hair in his hand and biting you lip just enough to make your exhale jaggedly.

He‘s so angry at you. For what exactly, he can’t even tell at this point. He‘s angry because you taste so fucking good. He‘s angry because his cock is hard and aching for you beneath his loincloth, pressing desperately against your stomach. He‘s angry at himself too, for showing this weakness to a human he despises. For loosing this battle against his own will so soon.

"In case you needed a reminder," Neteyam mutters, narrowing in on your swollen bottom lip as you pulled your mask down again, breathing heavily. "I'm not going to be nice to you."

You don’t respond to that, but you do touch your bitten lip with the tip of your tongue in a way that makes him inexplicably want to run his tongue over it. Or the tip of his cock. So he does. The mask nearly goes flying again and his tongue is back in your mouth, biting and kissing and sucking. You’re squirming against him, needy little sounds escaping you while he presses your body against his, walking you backwards to the other room.

He can’t think when his lips are on you, but every time you put your mask back on to inhale some much needed air, Neteyam halfway wonders what the hell he's doing making out with you, and whether he ought to be seriously thinking about if that's a good idea and if he's really dropped his standards so low.

Even though Neteyam only had a reasonable amount of swea at the gathering earlier, the slight mix of liquor combined with the intoxicating feeling of arousal was making his thoughts run in slow-mo, but then crowd up and shove each other for attention. But one thing comes to mind, more important than the others. He sighs, and braces a hand against your hip to push himself away from your lips.

"How much have you had to drink?" He asks, his tone stern.

"I'm fine," you tell him, albeit slurring enough to remind him that you were, in fact, not.

Neteyam knows you’ve had enough. You’re tiny and probably get drunk just from smelling the cups passed to you.

"I‘m serious." It's paining him to be this responsible, which he hopes you know as he holds you hot and bothered at arm's length. "We are not doing this if you are too drunk. If you regret this in the morning it’ll be my fault."

"I don't think you actually care." There's a tiny, weird smirk on your face, a challenge, your voice even but your gaze uneven and filled with lust.

"I do," he says, inhaling deeply. Your aroma distorts his ability to make the right choice. "Actually, you don't know anything about me, tawtute [human]."

"Yeah?" You tilt you head as you gaze up at him and Neteyams spine straightens as he feels your hand, dainty fingers running over the outline of his cock. "But I know you want this. And I’m offering it to you. Pinky promise I won’t regret it in the morning." You giggle softly at your little joke, even more so when you seem to realize you’re the only one in the room that actually has a pinky.

Neteyam rolls his eyes at that. "Fine," he grumbles, then gives you a little push that throws you off balance, but you land softly on his bed made of different fabrics and soft fur.

You might not, but maybe I will.

The little show of blunt teeth is quickly wiped from your face once Neteyam kneels between your legs. He pushes your thighs apart rather roughly to make room for himself there and your eyes widen as they watch him move with so much confidence. The sound of a low purr coming from deep within his chest makes you bite down on your bottom lip and Neteyam narrows his eyes on you.

This had to be a one time thing. There was absolutely no way for him to not mate you right here and right now. He knew that once he was buried inside that tiny cunt, his urges as an alpha would force him to knot that human that smelled so much like the perfect little omega for him. He would accidentally break you. And then he would mark and bind himself to a woman that belonged to a species Neteyam despised more than anything in his life? No. He had to be stronger than this. And there had to be another way to relieve this burning hunger deep inside of him.

"Lift your hips for me, sevin tawtute [pretty human]" he commanded, voice low and husky. Submissive as you were, you did as you were told, and Neteyam hooked his fingers under the cords that held your loincloth together around your hips and pulled it down.

It takes no convincing or sweet talk for you to coyly let your thighs fall open, revealing your pretty pretty cunt to him. Neteyam swallows thickly at the sight.

Lifting his hands to spread your glistening lips he’s met with the cutest shade of pink he‘s ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes upon. And you’re so wet. Salvia pools in his mouth like a dam ready to burst and he wipes his tongue over the pointy tips of his canine. That would be a feast.

Neteyam is still holding you open with his thumbs as he leans down to kiss the little nub that sits on top of your slit. Your thighs jerk and your breath comes out hitched. He looks up at you through his eyelashes as he licks the first stripe all the way up from your slit, his tongue curling gently over your clit. You’re so sensitive, and the knowledge feels so fucking good it almost hurts.

A low hum leaves his throat at the first taste of your honey-like arousal on his tongue. He doesn’t know what’s sweeter, your scent or your taste. Either way, it wakes something primal in him. Something that makes him want to consume you whole. To bite and mark and breed and claim. His tail thrashes vividly behind him and you give a little yelp as Neteyam moves his hands from your thighs to the back of your knees and folds you in half. With your ass now high in the air and your knees on either side of your face, you’re perfectly presented to him. A dinner ready to eat.

"I could smell you getting wet earlier, you know" he says lowly. "I just didn't know if you'd do anything about it."

Neteyam watches you swallow thickly, legs splaying wider automatically to give him better access. His words make your skin flush with pleasure and Neteyam makes a low, feral noise when your hips jerk up into his touch, goosebumps spreading all over your skin from his hot breath against your folds.

"Are you – glad I did?" You manage.

He scoffs, like the answer is so obvious, but he can’t give you that satisfaction.

"I’d hold onto something if I were you."

"H-Huh?"

His tongue swipes again, parting your folds revealing all those sweet spots he plans to assault and you moan when his tongue suddenly pushes past your slippery entrance. He‘s so much bigger than you, his tongue easily able to fill you out and curl just right.

Neteyams face is practically shoved between your thighs, leaving no room for you to wriggle away, even as he switches between all consuming licks and hungry kisses to your clit. Your hands are fisted in the furs underneath your back, gripping so hard your knuckles are turning white.

You taste divine. Delicious. Made to be addictive, because that’s what you are. And he is dizzy with it.

Part of him wants to drop his hands to his cock, to take away the ache spreading through his gut at the taste of you, at the sound of your breathing, low and ragged and laced with only the ghost of a moan. But that would mean taking his hands from you and he won’t do that, not when he’s desperate to get you closer, to suck at you until you scream your voice hoarse on his name.

His mouth is so full of you, tongue so deep inside. Eywa, he might loose himself right then and there.

Your arousal comes in waves, enough to make him swallow some of it down and Neteyam moans, actually moans, at the warmth spreading through him at that.

Pulling his tongue out of you in a slow, languid glide elicit a wonderful whimper out of you. He glances up at those soft looking lips of yours, bitten raw by the force of your blunt teeth in order to keep these sounds from escaping.

"You’re so messy," he says, thick and hot between heavy breaths. One of his hands moves to your core, fingers running through the filthy mess of spit and slick. With your clit caught between the slippery digits he rub and nudges against it, giving it torturous little taps that make your hips jerk and your cunt clench. "Such a wet, messy girl."

You look up at him through your lashes, eyes half lidded and so full of lust it nearly kills him. Your lips are parted on heavy breaths and you look so soft and vulnerable, so ready to be claimed. He needs to occupy his mind with something, needs to shove down these instincts because this isn’t the road he’s willing to take.

"Tell me how it feels," Neteyam says, pressing a sloppy kiss to your core. "Tell me what my tongue feels like inside of you, little omega."

For a split second, your eyebrows furrow, but then all tension melts away when his tongue glides into you again. You exhale a moan, eyes slipping shut as you let the pleasure overtake all your senses.

"Feels good," you tells him softly, followed by a moan, "Feels so good."

Neteyam skims his hand over the back of your thigh, and then his fingers are trailing along your slit. He holds you open and rubs slick, callused fingertips against your clit. "That feel good too?"

"Yes," you whimper when he starts licking at you right there, his tongue sliding between his own fingers, and fuck, he can feel you almost come right there. You don’t even know which part of him is touching you where, his fingers, his tongue, even his chin and nose is smothered against you. "Yes, fuck."

"You gonna come like this?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "Yeah, I'm gonna come. Neteyam, you’re gonna make me come!"

"I never thought I’d hear you say that," he murmurs with a grin, kissing the inside of your thigh before moving back to the price. "But I like the sound of it. Can you say it again, paskalin [honey]?"

Nodding hastily, you barely managed to get your voice to work, the noise merely sounding like a long whine, "I‘m- I‘m gonna come!"

And then your orgasm crashed over you with the force of a wild thanator. Your spine arches and Neteyam has to hold you steady as you come, whispering filthy things against your cunt that you could barely hear over the cries you couldn't hold in even if you tried.

Neteyams eyes flicker up from between your legs and he fucks you through this orgasm just like that, his eyes never leaving yours. He doesn't stop licking at you, takes your clit into his mouth and sucks hard, and you keep coming, head thrown back against the furs.

"Fuck, you don't even know," Neteyam says, kissing and making out with your cunt in between words. His fingers are rubbing your clit gently where his mouth is still busy elsewhere, even as you come down from your orgasm. "You don't even know how gorgeous you are when you come, how hot you make me."

He sucks at you sharply, making the heat in your belly spike, and then moves to slide his digits inside you. When he starts to fuck you on his fingers, nice and deep, it feels like you’re burning from the inside out, and your whole body tenses and twitches.

"Still so needy," he purrs dangerously, "You’re just as greedy at the rest of your kind. Always begging for more, even if your little cunt is already stuffed–", one more finger slides into you, "–full."

Your breath cuts off sharply when he curls his fingers just right, the rhythm of his tongue returning to steady and persistent strokes. He's lapping at you, wet and rough and hard and before you can think it through, you reach up and grip at his hair, holding his face up against your body as everything throbs and flies right over the edge.

When you come again, you can't even control your own body anymore. Moaning shamelessly, you let Neteyam hold you as you sob and shudder and burst into a million pieces. Even as you come down from it, he still licks at you gently, and your whole body jumps when he presses a soft kiss to your clit before he withdraws his fingers from your oversensitive entrance.

Neteyams chin and cheeks are glistening when he pulls back. Another little shiver runs through you when you catch sight of it, and he reaches up to rub some of the slickness off with the back of his hand, hitting you with the full, warm weight of his gaze as he does it.

Even after your breathing has evened out, you just stay like that for a beat, lost to everything but how good it feels. Your eyes seem even more dazed than before, pupils so blown they looked nearly fully black to him. Neteyam is impossible gentle as he lays your thighs back down, biting down a groan at the way they shake from the intensity of your orgasms.

You make a whined sound of protest when he moves you, hands reaching out to pull him in, lips seeking him out as if you had completely forgotten about the mask that sits over your face.

"Shh, I’ve got you," he coos as he tugs you under the furs, ignoring the painful throb of his neglected cock as he watches your eyes flutter closed. He just sits there for a heartbeat longer, just to make sure, but before he could get up, fingers reach out and halfway curl around his wrist. You tug at his arm weakly, and Neteyam bites his tongue hard.

He knows what you want. It should be pathetic, the way you try to pull him in under the covers. The way you seek out his proximity.

And he, he wants to fucking break something for being so reckless, so careless and downright selfish. He sits there for at least ten more minutes, tasting you on his lips, until his head clears enough for him to finally wriggle free and get up from his spot next to you.

You’re long gone and sound asleep as he exits the tent. The cold morning air makes his skin prickle like tiny needles raining down on his skin. But this is nothing against the throbbing pain of his temples as realization dawns in on him.

Neteyam is in trouble.

— ✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩ —

Despite recent events and the unpleasant headache he had woken up with on this morning, the following days had been a success for Neteyam.

The little human had flitted through his mind as soon as his eyes had opened in the morning, but he'd forced all thoughts of you away.

A meeting with the council of elders, discussing the the newly admitted refugees and which tasks they could take on in the clan to be of help forced him to think of you again, but this time it was for practical reasons.

He'd then spent a few hours sparring with Tarsem. After choosing to fight younger warriors in order to give them some controlled practice with a seasoned opponent, a well-matched tussle with his close friend had been welcomed.

Feeling a bit calmer, they'd walked together to met Nakul, the skittish male who keeps watch of the weather, confirming the forecasted storm and the rainy season that would likely follow after weeks of humidity. A good sign. The gatherer of his clan would be pleased to hear the news.

Now that the new Taronyus [hunters] had completed their iknimaya, they'd also had a lengthy conversation with his father, the olo’eyktan, about finalizing new squads that would accompany them on their next raid.

Neteyam had argued heatedly that the young Karsam should fill the vacant spot in a front line squad. His father had disagreed, feeling the boy was still too soft when directing his ikran, but he'd deferred to his judgment in the end. Neteyam had trained most of these men and women himself, owning him the upper hand of judgement in this discussion.

After this, he’d held hours with Kiri, who'd relayed the complaints of the people to him along with recommendations on how to fix things, since the olo’eyktan had given him the honor to. Neteyam had approved or denied as he‘d seen fit and earned a considerable amount of backlash from his sister, as always.

The days had dragged on, but at least he was busy.

He'd spoken and listened and decreed and delivered messages to his father until his eyes ached and his lips felt chapped and dry. The next, he‘d occupied himself with the participation of his brothers hunting party. A day and a half later, Neteyam had pierced his arrow through enough meat, had set and retrieved enough traps and caught enough game, he could easily nourish his own clan and another, and still have enough meat left for the next two moons.

And in all that busyness, Neteyam had managed to only think of you a handful of times.

And yet...

And yet it only takes one step inside his kelku, one swift inhale of your scent. His own biology had dictated that it was only a matter of time before he gave in. And time was running out for him here.

A small pathetic part of him was hoping you’d be here, at home, waiting. Deep down, Neteyam knew you would be furious. Vicious even. Not only had he left, but he hadn’t returned for a significant amount of time.

The moment he crossed the threshold of his kelku, the familiar scent of you wrapped around him like a suffocating vine. It was maddening, this ache in his chest that pulsed with every breath. He hated how easily you infiltrated his thoughts, how your moans, your sweet voice still echoed in his mind. It was infuriating, this obsession.

He hated the way you made him feel, how your mere existence could bring him to his knees. He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Why couldn’t he just forget you? Why couldn’t he just push you out of his mind like he had pushed away so many others? But the truth was, he had tried, and failing at that endeavor only fueled his anger.

The silence of the kelku echoed back at him, each moment stretching painfully. You were not there, and the emptiness gnawed at him. He needed to find you, to see you, even if it filled him with rage. Even if it was just for a small moment of him looking down at you and you looking up at him, spitting words of venom to each other before ignoring each others existence once again.

His heart raced as he turned abruptly, the decision made without fully understanding why he felt so compelled.

He needed to find you, just to hear how angry you are at him. How insufferable you could be. Just so he could continue to hate and try to forget about you.

But deep down, he knew that wasn’t possible. The anger you stirred in him was merely a reflection of the passion that still lingered, refusing to fade. With each step he took, memories flooded back—your glare, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief, the sharpness of your words that could cut him to the bone yet felt like a balm to his soul.

With every step, his thoughts spiraled deeper into conflict. He loathed you for taking up space in his mind, yet the thought of you being out there, away from him, also stirred something protective in him.

After what felt like an eternity of searching outside of the camp, he caught a glimpse of movement through the trees. As he drew closer, the sight of you harvesting fruit filled him with a mix of relief and irritation. There you were, graceful and focused, oblivious to the storm that raged inside him.

"What are you doing out here?" He finally called out, his voice cutting through the air.

You turned to face him, and in that moment, all the chaos within him stilled. The sight of you, the very woman he claimed to despise, seemed to unravel the knots of his frustration, replacing them with a profound yearning he could no longer deny.

And fuck, it hurt so much more to see that look on your face now. That look that told him to go to hell, that look that was such a clear indication of your hatred for him. And it felt good, this pain. It reminded him of the trouble he was in.

— ✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩ —

Neteyam was out of his mind.

During his three days absence, he must’ve hit his head somewhere out there in the depths of the forest. This was the only explanation you could come up with to excuse this absurdity.

"What are you doing out here?" The question alone was enough to drop your basket to the floor, not caring for the way the fruits just fell and rolled around, as you spun on your heels and left, shoulders tense and hands balled into fists, visibly steaming with irritation.

You were sure if you'd started having this conversation just standing there, looking at him, you would have begun calming by now. But you were moving, and it was making you far more stubborn than usual. And it certainly helped you not loosing your own mind.

This asshole. This dumb, annoying, big blue asshole and the audacity of him.

First, he‘d spent a week planting this seed of mutual hatred deep within your soul, only to discover that he could tolerate you enough to bend you like a lawn chair and eat you out like a starving god —just to leave and disappear for three fucking days, making you feel like absolute shit.

"Someone help me understand this menace of a man before I loose my sanity," you muttered under your breath as you stomped away. Never in your life had you experienced such a terrible swing of emotions within only a week. One day he makes you hate him and then the other he makes you feel like you could enjoy his company, just to ruin it all again.

Three days you had spent alone, wondering what the hell had happened between you both. You replayed the fragments of this night over and over in your head, but it gave you no answer.

And now he was seeking you out with the audacity to ask what you were doing. As if he had any claim on you and any saying of when and where and how you could occupy your time.

He hasn't even said sorry yet! It should have been the first thing coming out of his mouth. Sorry for leaving you like you’re nothing but a piece of meat I can stick my tongue in.

That thought only fueled your anger.

"So, if that's how it's going to be," your brows narrowed as you lifted your jutting chin. The flames of spite swelled in your chest and then burst out of your mouth like you were a fire-spitting dragon. "If you're just using me whenever you see fit and then leave and not return for a long time… then I'll go find someone else to live with! You’ve been trying to get rid of me since the beginning and if that’s your way to scare me off, congratulations. You definitely won this."

You couldn’t even look at him. Couldn’t even acknowledge the way his eyes were wide as he listened to your furious voice. Obviously you were pretty pissy about that. You'd offered yourself to him, legs open and pussy bared, and he'd chosen to leave. No aftercare, no nothing. That rejection had left a stinging sensation in your chest ever since...

Neteyam was suddenly in front of you, facing you while also blocking your path. His shoulders were tense, arms crossed and head tilted. "Excuse me?"

Rolling your eyes, you expertly ducked around him and the trees next to him while lifting your chin higher. At this point, your nose was almost pointing towards the sky like some snooty princess, but you couldn’t care less.

"I don't do that with just anyone you know," you spouted, which was the absolute truth. "And I’m sick of this. Of you. The way you treat me. If you don’t want me to live with you, fine. There are plenty of people in the village who would be happy to spent time with me and who are willing to give me shelter and I’d be so much happier with them. Actually, I'm going there right now to do just that."

The moment Neteyam was in action, you stopped talking.

He was in front of you again, blocking your path, but this time, his brows were scrunched together tightly, his shoulders broad and spine straight to make himself look even taller. Not that he needed to, considering that you barely reached to his middle. But now, now Neteyam was towering over you with an angry glare, like he had any right to do so.

"No," he snarled, ears flattening against his head.

"No?" You laughed with your eyes bowing in humour. "Did you just tell me what to do?"

"I did. And don’t you dare walk any further."

Your eyebrows nearly shot up to your hairline at this. For a moment, it’s just the two of you staring at each other, before you step to the side to go around him, shaking your head in disbelief.

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Sully. That’s not how this works. You wanted me to move out since the day we’ve met. So that’s what I’m going to do."

You received no warning before you were suddenly upside down. With a squeal, you were tossed over Neteyams shoulder. Your legs were flailing, yet he carried you like you weighted nothing to him.

"Put me down!" You demanded with a yell.

Your immediate response was to reach up and claw at him or pull at his braid, but Neteyam had wisely, whether by accident or not, trapped your arms between his shoulder and your chest so you were unable to move them at all. With his arm secure over your back, you were tied to him as he marched down the path that lead back to your shared home.

"If that is your intention today, finding somewhere else to live, then you will not be permitted to go," he growled and you could feel his arm tighten around you.

The fact his voice was a reverberating bass of anger sent a shiver down your spine –one, that had your insides clenching with warmth. You even felt it against your stomach pressed over his shoulder as it radiated through you. Neteyam was mad. Big mad.

As he walked, you could feel his fingers digging into your side from where he held you around your hips, as well as the side of your thigh where he held your legs down so you couldn’t kick him. And there was a constant growl emitting from him, laced with angry muttering of words you couldn’t quite hear.

"I said put me down!" You screamed, trying your best to thrash against him. For a fleeting moment you even thought you had succeeded, his grip on you momentarily loosened, but then you were flipped onto your feet and pushed right through the doorway. Stumbling, you turned and took a few steps backwards into the tent, just to see that he proceeded to block your exit.

Neteyams eyes were darker than usual, and just like everything else about him, they looked threatening.

"You will stay," he demanded.

"You can't keep me in here," you stomped a food down, glaring right back at the tall na‘vi in front of you.

If he wanted you to stay, then he shouldn't have left you for at all, especially not after you’ve finally decided to trust him and look over the difficulties you’ve had in the beginning.

And you also hated being told what to do.

So you did the only thing you could. When Neteyam lowered his head to pinch the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a minute to calm his rapid breathing, you ran.

You were half surprised by yourself when you managed to actually rush past him without being snatched, though you only made it three more steps before you were tackled to your front.

The air was practically punched out of your lungs when you landed in the soft grass and you both groaned in unison.

There was no opportunity to move when Neteyam laid down on top of you and curled his arms around you. He caged you in with his own body, locked your arms to your sides, and only gave your legs just the minutest freedom to kick. Pressed against you like this, you noted that he was hot, almost like his body was filled with lava and his angry quaking seemed to worsen to the point it even shook you.

"G-Get off of me you ass!" You ground out.

"Great mother, you’re insufferable!" Neteyam cursed sharply, his mouth entirely too close to your ear. "Stop running from me," he warned slowly and punctuated.

A gasp burst out of you when he yanked you back to your feet. With a hand on each of your shoulders, he walked you back, but just as you were about to step through the entrance, you stilled. Clearly, Neteyam was having none of that, so he pushed his chest against your back and urged you forward. Before he could make you walk another step, you placed your feet on each tree that secured the tents entrance to keep yourself out, despite his aggressive pushing.

This, too, didn't work for very long. Neteyam was cursing under his breath as he pushed harder, until you had to move your legs or he'd snap your damn knees with his pushing.

"Neteyam. Let. Me. Go.", you grumbled, "I need to go to the village!"

Screw what you had said before. You actually had things to do there today. You’ve planned to trade the fruit you’d picked earlier for other stuff that you desperately needed. And he couldn’t keep you here forever! This was madness.

Regardless, Neteyam finally shoved both of you through the doorway and before you knew it, he'd crossed through the tent and shoved your front against the small table that stood next to the fire place. The one, that you bought into his home while he was gone. The one he refused to sit on or use at all.

And now he pinned you down with his entire body on this very table. One hand slapped against the table's surface right next to your head, while the other curled underneath your body and wrapped underneath your jaw.

"Quiet," he snapped, and only then you realised he'd clamped your mouth shut.

For a long while, he just held you tightly. The heat coming off him was intense, but now that there was a pause, you could feel how hard, heavy, and fast his heart was beating as it thumped against your shoulder blade. At first you still tried to wriggle to get free, but eventually settled when you knew there was no point. You were trapped beneath him, and since you were forced to breathe only through your nose, you kept taking in his heady, mouth watering scent. You lungs swelled in delight, only to quiver out your breaths. In a way, it calmed you as much as it made your heart beat faster.

You never noticed Neteyam smelled so good. Like pine and fresh grass. He smelled like the outside, nature itself, but there was a tang to it, something you couldn’t quite put a name on.

"I’m very angry at you right now," he finally exhaled on a breath.

Leaning on his elbow, his free hand came up so he could undo the button of his cummerbund. You heard the material shift as it slipped to the ground.

"Never run from me again, little tawtute [human] especially when I am..." There’s a weighty pause, as if he was deciding whether or not he should continue whatever he was going to say. You could tell he’d decided against it by the way he cleared his throat and started over. "I’m not always in control of myself when I’m around you. And if you run from me, it only makes me want to catch you. It’s in my blood."

When you attempted to turn your head side to side so you could free your jaw and speak, he clamped his hand even tighter. It felt like your teeth would grind together into dust if he pushed any harder.

His hand spanned your entire mouth and jaw to the point his fingertips reached behind your ears.

Your eyes narrowed into a glare.

The more he spoke, the calmer he seemed to become, but you knew that was just on the surface. He chuckled darkly at your angry expression, but his voice had finally reverted back to normal.

"Don’t look at me like that. You have no idea what I have had to deal with over the past few weeks." Unable to gasp, the noise that came out of you sounded like a stifled mewl when his fingers ran over the side of your hip, down the side of your bottom, and then down your thigh.

"With your scent all over my home. The thought of you sleeping in my bed." He exhaled deeply, like the words pained him. "For eywas sake, you even used my cleansing oils to clean yourself… You’re driving me crazy, woman, and then you expect me to act reasonable?" Neteyam scoffs.

He didn't need to move his body at all to reach down to your boots and slip them off, even when you tried to evade him. One thud followed another. Then he opened and slipped your belt and with it, all of your little bags from your body, showing you he wouldn't be reasoned with in his decision to keep you here.

"And then you’re acting so damn careless, getting drunk and letting the scent of your arousal drift through the air like you’re begging for it," he whispered. "For me."

Then his hand slipped underneath you. He clawed off each button of your blouse, before he yanked it off and tossed it to the ground. A shiver ran through you at that.

"I could’ve claimed you that night, you know? Could’ve marked you as mine. Could’ve forced my knot into you until you were full of me, locked us tightly together so there would be nowhere to run from me anymore. But I didn’t. And now you’re throwing a fit, because of what? Because you think I don’t want you?"

You stilled completely, your eyes widening. All of your anger suddenly deflated out of you, and you tried to turn or even shake your head, but were given no room to do so. Confusion was making itself known on your face. You didn’t understand a word of what he was talking about.

"Little vrrtep [demon]," Neteyam purred next to your ear, before you could muffle anything against the palm that was still clasped over your mouth. "I want nothing more than to fuck you. To make you mine."

The gasp that left you was barely audible. Suddenly, you felt like molten wax in his hold. One of his hands was now gliding over your bare skin, along the curve of your spine until it reached the clasp of your bra. Neteyam was toying with the flimsy fabric, until skilled fingers unhooked the fastener and pulled your bra away to discard it somewhere behind him. Now that your naked chest was pressed against the cool wooden table, you could feel your nipples tighten and you hissed at the contact.

"Not even three days worth of space between us is enough to calm myself down. My head is so fucking full of you and I’m sick of it. I don’t know why or how this is even possible, but not one omega I’ve ever encountered in my life has had a scent so potent as yours. You’re calling for me, constantly, and don’t even realize it."

Now that your upper half was free of any fabric, Neteyam forcibly tilted your head to the side so he could bury his nose into your hair and the side of your throat. He was so close, smelling you as though he'd waited an eternity to do so. Then he gave a large exhale as he parted his lips around your ear, making the strands of your hairline stand on end in reaction to the wrapping of heat as his tongue slid along your earlobe.

"However," he growled lowly, fangs grazing your ear, "Now that I have tasted you, made you come on my tongue, have heard your sweet little moans…" Your pussy clenched not only at the memory, but also at him reciting it. "I don’t know if I can hold back any longer. There’s only so much I can take."

Your heart was beating inhumanly fast now. So fast and so hard, you feared he could hear it, could feel it beating against your chest and the table below. Liquid heat pooled in your abdomen at the low whispers of his words.

"But if you don’t want my touch," he continued, as he raked his dull fingernails down your spine, making you shudder. "If you don’t want me…" Your eyelids fluttered against your will when you felt his callused palms and fingertips gliding over the small of your back. "Then I will no longer touch you. But you will stay, so I can protect you. You may not be a true omega, but as an alpha it’s still my responsibility to protect you."

My alpha? Your brows furrowed at this. But then you remembered the times when Neteyam referred to you as an omega. When he told you about the effect your scent had on him. And then it clicked. Despite not even being the same species as he was, Neteyam was convinced that you must be the human equivalent of an omega. Therefore he thought… He thought that you were meant to be his.

That is why he‘s so angry.

Not only were you an intruder of his personal space, but a constant temptation walking around right under his nose. You were the embodiment of a species he despises, and his own instincts were betraying him to the point he felt confusing attraction towards you.

Snapped out of your thoughts, you couldn't help arching your back, a heavy exhale leaving through your nose when he dug his fingers under the waistline of your pants.

"Don't think for a moment that I can't smell your growing arousal, tawtute [human]. I was hoping to come back here and have the freedom to touch you," he stated as he slipped his tongue over his canine. "So, choose your answer wisely because I won’t ask again. Do you want me to touch you?"

The tension around your jaw finally loosened. By now, you must’ve almost forgotten the way your own voice sounded. There was only his voice in your head.

This domineering, possessive side of Neteyam was turning your gut inside out, making it flutter and quiver. Your nipples were already hard and aching as they pressed firmly against the table you laid upon.

Surprisingly, you already knew your answer. Every cell in your body was screaming and begging for him to finally touch you. All morals thrown right out of the window, all anger vanished. You just needed him. But you were too stunned to speak, stunned that you were in this position, that you were being caged by his entire massive body while being asked this one simple, yet entirely too complicated question. Never in your life had you ever expected to be overpowered or at another's mercy in this kind of way. Especially not with Neteyam being the one.

And you fucking loved it.

"Yes," you whispered.

Your answer earned you a low groan, almost a purr, and your eyes clenched shut as he undressed you from your pants in one swift motion. He'd been holding the waistline in preparation of your answer, and by the cool breeze on your backside, your underwear too.

The cold air battled with the heat swirling off him, and you didn't even know which one caused you to shiver this time.

Gliding his warm palm across your hips, Neteyam slid it down the side of your bottom, over your thigh and almost to your knee. You let out a breathy noice at the tickling sensation.

At the sound you let out, he glided the tips of his fingernails over the sensitive flesh on the backs of your thighs. This time, you let out a quiet mewl, and your back arched further as you were finally given freedom to do so. When his hand skimmed down your thigh, down to the back of your knee, you gave a yelp when Neteyam suddenly lifted your leg and placed your knee on top of the table. If it weren’t for his hips shoving you against the edge, you would’ve lost your balance over this.

Now that you were standing on tip toes, Neteyam chuckled, then bend forward enough so he could freely lick at the side of your neck from behind, causing a tremor and more soft noises to leave you. A wave of goosebumps rose across your body. His tongue was rough like any human tongue, but longer, flat, and so wet.

"Wh- why didn’t you just say something sooner?" You managed on a breathy whisper. "Why didn’t you just tell me?"

He was still grasping your jaw, but loosely now.

"How was I supposed to know that?" he rumbled, his other hand coming up to glide over your ass. "After the way I treated you, how was i supposed to know you would just give yourself to me?"

"I thought…" You stopped for a moment to hold your breath as his hand squeezed the inside of your thigh, then wandered up, up, up until you could feel the heat of his skin nearly touching your core. "I thought you hated me."

"You are quite annoying," Neteyam chuckled.

"And you still haven’t apologized!"

Against the table, your hands curled into fists when his thumb slid against the outside of your folds, going back and forth but never dipping between your lips.

"Apologize? Paskalin [honey], I was merely protecting you."

The way his fingers moved, purposefully avoiding all the spots you wanted him to touch, had your insides spasming.

You licked your lips, your breathing so heavy now you’ve barely had enough air in your mask to speak, "F-From who?"

Another deep purr vibrated against your back as his fingers finally, mercifully, slid between your folds. You eagerly spread your thighs apart when he pressed against your clit. A hiss escaped you as he began circling the little nub, the feeling so overwhelming you nearly forgot about your question.

With a grin he whispered, "from me."

And then he played with your clit in a similar way to how he'd touched it with his tongue. Slow, tight circles at first, and then faster, barely touching it directly but moving around all those sensitive nerves until your knees were trembling.

"You’re so wet," he commented, his tone rumbling with satisfaction. The circular motion he made had your hips going in the opposite direction, hoping to aid him, or perhaps yourself. He went the other way, and so did your hips. Then he moved away completely, going lower to dab at your entrance. "But you're dripping here, paskalin [honey]."

"Neteyam," you quietly moaned when he pressed inside you.

You didn't know how many fingers he pushed in, but it felt like at least the thickness of two of your own. You tried to press back onto them, wanting him deeper despite feeling he was as deep as he could go. He curled and thrusted them to make room, and then your breath hitched when another finger speared you, stretching your pussy.

"You’re tight, tawtute [human]."

Then he split his fingers, scissoring you, and a sucking sound came from your cunt because of how slick you were. He relaxed his fingers and slowly thrusted them again, grazing an amazing spot inside that had warmth spreading throughout your entire body. Any tension within you died at that moment.

You started bucking back into his hand and he split his fingers again, only so he could make room to press an additional one in.

That made you wince, especially when it seemed he had trouble pushing it in. Your inner walls were stretching far wider than you’d ever had them before, and it burned.

"Not so many," you groaned, trying to get your body to forcibly relax rather than tighten. It was like he was trying to shove his whole hand in there!

"I won’t fit inside you," Neteyam breathed heavily, "You can barely take three of my fingers."

Only three!? You tried to look down to see for yourself, but with your body pressed against the table, you weren’t able to see much.

Neteyam pressed the flat of his nose against your ear, and you heard his deep breaths, felt them. It made the side of your whole face tingle. But then you gasped when he suddenly shoved that third finger all the way in.

"Wait!" You squeaked.

God, were you thankful he stopped thrusting them and decided to just let them sit inside you. It stung and you felt so incredibly full.

Shit. Could you really only take three? And you knew that if he decided to move right now, it would only start hurting more. Already your pussy was giving an uncomfortable throb. The last time he'd done this to you, you‘d been soft, slick and relaxed from his tongue. You just weren’t ready to take this much yet.

"You want this just as much as I do, but how are you supposed to take me like this?" Neteyam sighed. "I‘m not the problem here. You’re the one who‘s too tiny, even for a human."

"H-Hey! I just need to adjust," you said, undoubtedly a little offended by what he’d said.

"Paskalin [honey]," he exhaled a long breath, so close to your skin it made goosebumps raise in the wake of the warm air he blew across your neck. "If we fuck, I won’t be able to hold back. I will knot you and it will hurt. And I don’t want to hurt you."

But I really want him inside me.

You swallowed dryly as frustration made your lips feel like sandpaper and constricted your throat. Blinking away tears, you shook your head. God damnit, you couldn’t cry over something like this! You needed to man up.

"Then I don’t want you to hold back," you said, your voice suddenly hoarse with desperation. "Last time you said you wouldn’t be nice to me. So don’t."

You wanted wanted him. Really wanted him.

You wanted his annoying personality, his attitude, his teasing words. You wanted to tear down these walls to get to his warmth that he kept so reserved and claim it all for yourself. And most of all, you wanted to feel his cock. You wanted to know what that knot thing was that he was constantly talking about and you wanted him trusting into you, over and over. You wanted to be his. His to love, to claim, even to hate and definitely to fuck.

Carefully, like he knew he needed to be slow, he removed his fingers from you, which caused you to whine.

"That was because last time I wasn’t trying to make you mine. I was selfish, stilling my own hunger." And then he pushed them back inside you, fast and harsh. This time, the burning stretch was a welcoming sensation, because it meant you were loosening up for him. Taking a shuddering breath, you tried to relax.

"I don’t care… Just- Just fuck me," you whimpered. And then Neteyam began to thrust these fingers. Slowly at first, until there was a smooth, slick slide –in and out, in and out. The pain slowly eased the more he moved them inside you and the satisfying groan that rumbled in his chest was the sweetest compliment you’ve heard from him so far.

"I lied, you know?" His fingers curled, then spread just the tiniest bit with the limited space there was and you let out a wanton moan at that. "I‘m not just going to claim you tonight, little one. When I’m done marking you as mine, after I knotted you and sealed the bond, I will thoroughly fuck you. Every single one of your holes, until all that attitude is gone."

"You c-can try," you weakly grinned back at him. That grin however was quickly wiped from your face when Neteyam thrusted his fingers just a bit deeper inside you. You could feel them wriggle, pushing against a soft spongey spot that nearly made your knees give out underneath you.

"Oh I will," he chuckled.

"But I… I think you secretly love it," you muttered, "You love when I’m annoying you, don’t you?"

"I like a challenge."

You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot at his words that were surprisingly soft, yet sounded so dangerous it made heat creep up your cheeks. The hand that had been holding your throat and your jaw then carefully slid down your chest, slowly enough it made you realize that from now on you had to hold your own head up if you didn’t want to land face first against the table. Skimming past the valley of your breasts and down your abdomen, Neteyams digits quickly locate your pleasure spots and the throbbing clit that had just been waiting for him.

He runs his fingertips over the slippery button and you moan, giving in to the weight of your head to let your cheek rest against the table. The surface is cool against your heated skin and it feels so good.

You feel yourself relax further, all muscles melting in his hold as he plays you like an instrument. His fingers continue to thrust into you, just a little deeper, a little faster, harder.

His lips press against your shoulders, then down along your spine ever so softly.

"Spread your legs," he whispers against your skin, and then when you do, "More."

Just as he pulls his digits from your dripping cunt, you suck in a sharp breath. Suddenly you feel so empty and hollow, and you whine when he takes too long to slip out of his loincloth.

"Impatient little human," Neteyam muses with a chuckle. You can’t really see much of him from your current position, but you still manage to catch a glimpse of him over your shoulder.

And god, Neteyam is so damn handsome. No matter how much you had tried to deny it, he really was one pretty bastard. His long braids were falling over board shoulders, beads clicking together as he moved closer. Neteyams face was entirely focused on the task at hand, his chest heaving in deep breaths. His lean body bend over you, one hand holding the subtle flesh of your bottom, while the other guided his cock to your entrance. You could feel his tail and the tickling hairs at the bottom of it, as it wrapped itself around your thigh, holding you to him.

And then you felt his tip, smooth and wet with pre-cum, nudging between your lips and pressing against your opening.

"Mawey [clam.] Relax for me, sevin [pretty]" Neteyam said, his thumb drawing comforting circles onto your skin. You didn’t even realize you were tensing up until he uttered these words and immediately, your shoulders loosened up as you exhaled a deep breath. "Good girl," he purred, making the words sound like honey. "And now, now I need you to say it."

Swallowing thickly you ask, "S-Say what?"

"That you want it. Not my cock or my knot. Me. Say that you want me, just as much as I want you, you insufferable little omega," he explained with a chuckle.

All the while, the tip of his cock was teasing you, rubbing back and forth from your clit to your opening. Ever so slowly, Neteyam was pushing forward, barely inside you, just to then retreat and continue this delicious torture.

Because of this, his words took longer to register in your pleasure clouded mind than you would like to admit.

Neteyam wanted you to choose him as well.

Softly, so softly it made his breath stop, you spoke, "I want you. Neteyam, I want you so bad. Just please…"

In an pathetic attempt to get him closer, you arched your back and pushed back against him. His tip barely nudged against your entrance before it slipped away, everything simply too slick to get him where you needed him most.

"Yeah?" Neteyam chuckles as he watches you wriggle around. "For someone who claimed to dislike me so much, you beg so pretty for me."

"S-Shut up," you let out in a frustrated groan.

He grins. "I want you too, paskalin [honey]. You’re gonna let me in?" The tip of him suddenly stops it’s slippery glide right at your core and you feel a controlled pressure right there. Glancing back at him over your shoulder, you find Neteyams hand back around the base of him, holding himself steady.

You nod frantically.

When he pushes in, you can’t help but hold your breath. The stretch is intense. Your toes begin to curl as he pushes against your body, easing his way ever so slowly. You could feel the tension in your bones, everything but as relaxed as you had promised him. Squeezing your eyes shut, you exhaled deeply when Neteyam stopped.

"It’s okay, I know, little omega. I‘ll help distract you from the pain," he whispered into your ear, kissing the soft shell. "It‘s necessary, but you might not like how I will do it."

His words send a shiver down your spine.

Nodding, you whisper back, "It’s okay, whatever it is, I can take it."

Neteyam then tilted your head to the side, bearing your neck to him, and leaned in to lick a teasing stripe over the skin where shoulder met throat. You shuddered beneath him and then a moan turned into a hiss as you felt the tips of his fangs puncture your flesh. In all honesty, you didn’t expect him to actually fucking bite you. But then again, the feeling of it was almost euphoric.

So euphoric, you hadn’t even realized that your hips went wider, changing to accommodate him rather than pushing him away. Your inner walls not only pulled taut but stretched, yet not in an uncomfortable way. It was almost painless, but you could feel yourself growing so unbelievably full you knew you'd never experienced anything like it every again.

When Neteyam released your throat, his tongue lapped over the wound to collect the slowing trickle of blood. His salvia seemed to seal the wound quickly, only leaving the faintest mark there, rather than a fresh wound.

"This one was for the pain," Neteyam purred. "Now feel me ease inside you, tawtute [human]. Feel me stretching you out."

And stretching you he did. The thick head of his cock finally popped inside, and the rest of his glide suddenly seemed easier. But what greeted your sensitive entrance were his little bumps and ridges near the base that tickled as each one went in, giving him this wonderous texture that made your eyes roll all the way back in your head.

Behind you, Neteyam growled lowly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and against the curve of your shoulder.

"F-Fuck!" You gasped as suddenly his teeth were closing in on your skin again. This time, it was into your neck. It didn’t hurt, but surprised you all the same.

Neteyam was obviously relishing in the keening whine that fell from your lips at the pressure on your skin, if his throbbing cock was anything to go by.

"This one was purely for myself,“ Neteyam said, grinning as he kissed the mark that spread warmth all over your right side. "Because you’ve been such a pain in my ass these past few weeks."

More warmth was spreading, but in a dark flush over your cheeks. "Asshole," you mumbled sheepishly.

The next time his canine punctured your skin, a downright shamefully erotic moan left your lips. Neteyam was biting down on your neck, right below your ear were you were most sensitive, causing all the hair on your body to stand up straight. This time it felt like he was savoring it, basking in the feeling of leaving his mark on you. You felt his little suckles, determined to make this one the most prominent and visible. When he finally detached himself, licking and kissing over the wound to seal it, a pleasant huff of air blew over your salvia slicked skin.

"And this is, so everyone knows who you belong to."

"Oh my fucking God," you moaned, your body shivering and shuddering in bliss, even more so the deeper he went. Thanks to all the biting, you barely noticed how far he’d pushed inside you, until now. Jesus Christ, you basically felt your insides pushing away to let him go further, and further, and further.

"Good girl," he rumbled with a purr, an actual purr that vibrated against your back. He licked at the back of your neck all the way to your ear before swirling his tongue against it. "You're taking my cock so well for me."

You could feel your abdomen pressing against the table by being pushed from the inside. His cock was gouging its way in. It rubbed your most tender place, every inch and every vein grazing it and nearly making you go cross-eyed. Looking down on yourself, you could see the visible bump where his cock was nestled deep inside you and that sight alone was enough to make your brain short circuit.

"I-I'm going to come," you rasped, eyes rolling back little by little as you blinked wildly. "I'm going to–"

Neteyam pulled back before he was even seated all the way so he could thrust forward quickly and go just that little bit deeper. It aided you, this strange way of being stretched, pushing you suddenly and violently into bliss.

All you could do in this very moment was clamp down on him, squeez him– screaming as you came around his cock. So he did it again. You felt your own cheek sliding against the table's surface with every movement as he pulled back so he could dig deeper. And then again and again, heightening your orgasm until you were squirming beneath him, trying to flee from him and get him closer all the same.

Lubed with your cum, he was then finally seated as far as he could go, his hips flush agains your backside. Neteyam gave a low groan at that.

"You came just from me filling you, little tawtute." He chuckled deeply.

The humiliation of his words and the fact that they were true made your face feel hot, but you were too languid to bite back at him. You were so relaxed, your body moved like you were nothing but a doll for him to play with as he suddenly yanked you from the table with his hand on your throat.

Something thin and long wrapped around your knee then, holding it against the table. A brief peek down told you it was his tail. One of his hands wrapped around the thigh of your other leg. They kept you supported with your legs spread apart as he lifted you, his forearm keeping your back glued to his stomach and the back of your head to his chest.

"Is this what you wanted, hm?" Neteyam asked, "A cock the size of your forearm deep inside your snug, hungry little cunt?" Your breath hitched. "You just needed your alpha to take care of you, isn’t that right? Someone you could submit to. To fuck you nice and deep and make you come soo good."

What was meant as an eye roll to tease his big ego, quickly turns into a lustful flutter of your eyelids and a sultry moaned "oh god" when Neteyam began to shallowly thrust into you from this position.

Filled to brim, you felt so tiny against him, pierced by his massive length as it slid in and out of you with ease. The hand that had been holding your thigh moved in sensual ways, all the way up to your stomach.

Neteyam lowered his face next to yours so he could lick across your jaw from behind as he whispered, "you’re so full of me, I can feel it here."

And because you still hadn't answered him, he slowly withdrew. It was purposeful. It had to be with how far he came back, showing you every inch he'd given you until the flared rim of his cockhead came out of you. The wider thickness of it spread your lips even further.

Your already pink face, heated with arousal, deepened in colour.

In all honesty, you expected him to come back in just as slowly. You expected him to be nice, just this once. Oh, what you fool you could be when you were on the verge of yet another orgasm.

Instead, he shoved in fast and hard, using his hold on your body to push you back against him even harder, deeper. "Well?"

"Y-Yes! Fuck!" You screeched, not only to answer him but to spur him on. "I wanted your cock inside me so badly!"

His purr started back up, and you gave yourself over to this, to him, as he stayed deep, while rocking his hips with subtle thrusts.

His hand came away from supporting your throat, but your own grasping hands on his arms kept you to him as he caressed both of your breasts with his rough palm.

His thumb would play with one stiffened nipple, flicking it up and down before going to the other. Then he would pet both breasts with every part of his palm, his blunt nails gliding over you to give a sharp but pleasurable sensation.

All the while, the thrusts that had started as deep, hard and subtle, quickly turned faster, until you were sure you would loose your vision if you‘d kept your eyes open for any longer. Letting them roll back into your skull freely allowed you to relax further in his hold, until your whole body was moving with him, barely able to withstand the strength his hips.

"Shit, shit, shit," you cursed every time his tip hammered against your cervix.

"Such a foul mouth you have on you. We’ll have to change that, my sweet omega," Neteyam said behind you, his displeased tone palpable without having to see the look on his face. "I’d rather hear you moan my name, let everyone know who is inside you."

Your body was doing the best it could to accommodate his impossible size, but the faster he thrusted into you, the more he whispered these filthy things into your ears, the more soaked you grew, until the wet squelch of him entering you nearly toned out your own thoughts. It was filthy and shameful, and it felt so fucking good. Screw his damn ego, with the pace and vigor Neteyam was pounding your poor pussy, you would get his name tattooed on your forehead if that’s what it would take for him to keep going.

"Teyam," you moaned, "Teyam, Tey. F-Fuck!"

"Hmm not my name, vrrtep [demon]." When he realized your head was weakly falling forward he supported it once more by cupping a hand under your jaw and keeping you pinned to him. "Or is that a new name for me?" He chuckled deeply. "One you'll give me when I'm inside you, fucking you?"

Then he pounded harder, faster, his hand on your thigh moving, pushing you back and forth along with his thrusts. He wasn't being gentle at all. It was hard, and the heat all around and inside you had you losing your mind.

His scent, his sounds, his body, it completely dissolved you of strength, making your mind go blank and your body feel like warm honey.

Your head lazily fell to the side in his palm. You didn't even know when you‘d started coming around his cock, but your pussy suddenly tensed and spasmed, your thighs dancing in twitches alongside it. The cry that left your throat was so strong it was silent, your lungs seizing with the overwhelming power of your orgasm.

To have something so alien, something so big and strong and feral slamming into you. You’ve never been so turned on before, and it burned even hotter when Neteyam didn’t stop throughout it all. He was riding out your orgasm until the next one was only mere seconds away.

"I…. I…," you stuttered, unable to form any kind of coherent sentence.

"Yes?" Neteyams voice was rough next to your ear, his breath tickling your oversensitive skin. The hand that wasn’t occupied with holding your head up skimmed between your thighs and began to rub your clit in small circles, the action alone enough to threaten your brain to overheat, but at the same time letting a burst of energy surge through your whole body that straightened your spine and gave your tongue enough strength to move.

"I‘m gonna come again!" The words came out in a rushed whine, sounding as if you couldn’t quite believe them yourself. The humiliating chuckle coming from behind you would’ve annoyed you beyond words if you could muster the strength to do so, but it only left you wondering when the fuck did you begin to find the sound of it so incredibly sexy?

You could feel the orgasm beginning to happen, and it was the very best kind, the kind where you have five seconds of awareness before it all rushes over you, five seconds or ten, and nothing on earth can stop it now. You feel the clench of your orgasm lock round his cock, and he keeps moving, faster, faster, and– oh!

"Then come, little tawtute," Neteyam grinned, and coming you did. Before you could say anything more, a wail and then a surprised gasp left you when a small fountain of hot, wet arousal shot out between your thighs, coating the inside of your legs and the table in front of you with pearls of liquid.

"That's it. That's a good little omega," Neteyam groaned as he watched you come. He gave a heavy shudder, one that had you jiggling in his embrace. "Fuck, that feels so damn good, smells so damn good."

What’s happening is entirely out of your control, it's beautiful and primal and new and Neteyam‘s taking it in, greedily, seemingly loving to watch your pleasure.

When you open your eyes you’re surprised to find you‘re still in his home. The orgasm was so intense, you were sure you‘d travelled to a different dimension. Looking down, his hand is also still there, wet with cum and rubbing your clit until it burns so good and your thighs spasm again. You feel drugged. Everything is in a haze and your skin is hot and prickling and Neteyam‘s still fucking you.

But his thrusts are different now. Harder, with a sense of purpose and urgency. It took your overheated brain a long moment to register that he was trying to push something inside you. Something that sat on the base of his cock, something that wasn’t there before. Not that you remembered much in your current state.

Suddenly, you felt yourself lifted in the air. A weak little squeak was all you could manage as Neteyam positioned your tired legs to hang over his forearms. Thankful you didn’t had to stand any longer, you let your head fall back against his chest. However, your relief doesn’t last for long when he continued to lower you back on his thick cock.

"It‘ll be easier for you like this," Neteyam said with grunt, shoving himself all the way inside, until not an inch of your gummy walls were left untouched.

"T-Teyam," you coaxed weakly, your own voice bouncing with the way he moved your whole body up and down on his length.

"Shh, it’s okay," he cooed, barely sounding coherent and slightly breathless himself. "You‘re such a good girl, such a perfect little omega. You’ll take my knot so good."

His knot? So that’s what this was, that bundle of flesh and muscle on the base of his cock. It seemed to inflate the closer Neteyam got to his release, and you felt it throb, as if begging to be inside you with every time he pushed that knot against your entrance.

The sound of his hips slapping against yours grew louder as he moved with more intensity, determined to get the damned thing inside of you.

And then it just, slipped inside. It sinks past the slippery wet entrance of your cunt easier than you would’ve thought it would. Behind you, Neteyam moans and then his hips buck up and he holds you right there, not an inch of space keeping your hips separated.

You don’t even realize that anything's different at first. Neteyam‘s still inside of you, but it's nice. It still feels good, not uncomfortable at all. That was it?

You’re both breathing heavily, and your hips move, jerking in surprise when Neteyam swells some more, then starts thrusting again, a gentle rocking motion that would be soothing under almost any other circumstances.

Your own features became murky through bubbling tears. You’re overstimulated, overstretched and overwhelmed. Suddenly, it’s all too much.

"Neteyam, what–" You start.

"Told you I‘m gonna knot you," he says, the words muffled against your shoulder before Neteyam bites you again, this time without warning.

You whole body jerks in his hold and you moan, pussy clenching around his cock as it pulsates inside you. And then you feel it, that stretch. It’s new and uncomfortable at first, so you begin to squirm, but Neteyam is stronger. He holds you still and steady, and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut and feel every inch of his knot as it expands further inside you. It grows until it’s nearing painful, adding to the bulge of your stomach. You feel so full.

Neteyam continues to swell and it drags noises out of you that you’ve never even heard before. Just when you’re about to complain about any discomfort, the swelling seems to stop.

It’s done. He has knotted me.

"Great mother," he rasps, his breath uneven and shaky. "Wanted to knot you so badly. Fuck my way inside of you so hard you couldn't ever get me out. You feel so good like this. All mine."

The words barely make any sense to you in your current state of mind, but his voice is all roughed edged desire and you cling to it. "F-fuck, yes," you slur and arch up, whining in the back of your throat when Neteyams length throbs heavily inside you, his knot hot and heavy and pulsating.

"Eywa, you like this, don’t you?" He asks, and the shock tinged with awe has you blinking your eyes open blearily. It’s almost embarrassing, these needy little sounds of "hmh", alongside your frantic nodding, but it’s enough of a confirmation that finally tips Neteyam over the edge.

He comes with a groan that’s so deep, you feel his whole chest vibrate against your back. You can’t help but moan as he fills you with his seed, hot and wet and sticky. Rope after rope, he pumps you full. He‘s not even thrusting, barely moving at all. Neteyam is just holding you down on his length while your pussy milks him dry, your inner walls flexing, clamping down and almost massaging his cock before you notice you’re coming as well. It’s weak and short lived, all your poor exhausted body can manage, but Neteyam savors every second of it.

His face is buried in the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent and occasionally rubbing and kissing the marks he’d left there earlier.

His orgasm seems to last forever, with little tremors going through his body, yet none of his cum goes to waste. Every last drop that’s emptied inside of you seems secured by knot, locking you together.

It leaves the both of you worn out and a little shaky, like any good orgasm, but so much more.

Moving seems difficult at first, but Neteyam is more skilled in moving with his knot buried than you thought he would be. You shove down the pang of jealousy creeping up your throat at that.

This position actually did seem the most advantageous though, especially now that he could easily lower your legs and lift you by the hips to carry you through the room and towards his bedroll, where he carefully laid down with you.

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him considering wanting to be the big spoon afterwards when he had decided to bend you over the table earlier. What a gentleman he could be, if he really wanted something.

That thought, paired with his lips still kissing and nipping on the bite marks on your throat and shoulders bring you back to your earlier conversation.

"You know," you start with a grin, your voice still hoarse, "on earth we at least take each other out on a date before we call someone 'mine'.

Behind you, Neteyam goes still for a moment, before he exhales a breath.

"But you aren’t on earth," he mumbles absently as he pulls you tighter against him. The movement draws attention to the feeling of his knot that’s still filling you and the warmth of his cum that has no way of leaking out. It makes you shudder.

You felt a pang of sadness at his words, your shoulders slumping immediately at the thought of his usual cold demeanor returning so quickly. However, before you could even think of biting back at him, Neteyam adds, "But you can have your little date. I will take you out, tomorrow night."

Your smile is instantaneous and full of brightness that makes you feel warm inside and out. "Sounds good," you giggle as you rub your cold feet against his warm thighs.

"You can have anything you want, stubborn little human," Neteyam sighs, like the realization it pains him, but you can hear the grin on his face. "As long as I’m able to call you mine," he reminds.

"Anything, huh?" You tease. "Big words for someone who hasn’t even apologized yet for being such a dick to me."

Neteyam groans at your words and presses his forehead against the nape of your neck as if to escape this conversation altogether. "I really got myself in trouble with you, huh?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

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