I LOVE LOVELOVE UR AMNESIA SERIES !!!! literally my favvvvvv 𫶠your writing is always immaculate and u never fail to make my jaw drop with every fic u release ong đđ i do wanna ask if its possible for u to add jake into the series? i just cant get the idea out of my mind help đ but if you cant or ure uninterested to do so, thats perfectly fine too ! its all up to u đ„°
there are a lot of requests for jake to be added in the selective amnesia series in my dms & ask box so i might do it! i just donât know if it will take place with jake from the 1st movie or jake with dreads đ
I hate you because bcs u make such great fanfics like the one "im your dream girl, but you're not my type" and i couldnt study nor focus on my lectures because i keep on going back to your fanfic. Its so addicting and i keep getting tempted to read it all over again. I also luv you because you were able to make such stories that has both plot and smut. Most authors never do this and they can only few can compare to your godly writing. Now i have another exam and i hope i have the will and determination to stop reading ur fanfic. That is all thank you
Now that I'm thinking about it and also just re-read your avatar series, since the story started after the first fight between Sully family and Metkayina vs RDA and that Neteyam survive that, I'm just wondering if this storyline will follow the content of AFAA with all the deaths and stuff since reader saw a vision from Eywa.
Anyways the new chapter is always very well done, I like how the Sully's men are now slowly getting to know that their selves are not the only one who wants to court reader and Reader's words getting to Quaritch as well with the talk between Jake and Neytiri, although I do feel bad for Neytiri but hey we're gettin' those D's.
I just got really curious if all the deaths that happened in AFAA will also happen in your series, good night :P
it will be revealed in the next part đ
there will be deaths, that i can assure yâall đ
pairings: various avatar men x female na'vi reader (jake sully, miles quaritch, neteyam, loâak, & aoânung)
series notes: neteyam is aged up to 23, lo'ak & ao'nung are aged up to 22, reader is aged up to 25, reader is morally grey and a coy bitch, infidelity from jake and lo'ak, suggestive themes and smut, varang and miles & lo'ak and tsireya exists here intimately. made up clans and practices for the sake of this series, misogyny, men being men, big age gap for jake and reader & miles and reader, change in canon events and facts.
word count: 18.2k
chapter notes: confrontation, all the drama, clarity for miles, reader feeling emotions, truths out, these men actively choosing reader over others, rivalries revealed, jealousy everywhere. smut, p in v sex, tummy bulge, spitting, breeding, making out, groping.
prompt: there is only one clan that could turn the tides of the war, the zĂ€'raiya clan. whoever they favor, eywa will bless. it just so happens that aid will not be the only thing that these men will beg for but for you, a woman whoâs form of entertainment is stringing along men, mated or not.
main masterlist | series masterlist
an: this is the second to the last part. been having writerâs block for this series thatâs why it took so long, forgive me guys. your conments and messages abt this series really does motivate me to write more for this so thanks a lot for the interactions đ«¶đ»
credits to @uzmacchiato (divider)
Jake's face suddenly turned calm and still, the storm of fury in his golden eyes receding like a tide pulling back from the shore leaving behind an unyielding serenity that masked the depths of his turmoil. A subtle shift rippled across his features, the tight lines of his jaw softening and the flare of his nostrils easing as if he'd gathered the fragments of his shattered composure into a weapon.
Then unexpectedly, a low laugh rumbled from his chest echoing off the sun-warmed sands like distant thunder rolling over the waves. He shook his head slowly, the dark dreads swaying with the motion as a wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and revealing the faint scars that etched his full lips from years of battles won and lost.
"You're courting a mated woman now, son?" He said, his voice steady and laced with a mocking edge as the words hung in the salty air like a challenge thrown into the fray.
Your eyes widened in genuine surprise, your lashes framing them fluttering as a bubble of laughter threatened to escape your throat and nearly shattering the tension you'd so carefully cultivated.
Not only was he poised to lay the raw truth bare before his wife and exposing the tangled web of his divided loyalties but now in front of his son as well, the boy he'd raised with tales of honor and fidelity. The audacity of it all sent a thrill skittering along your spine as your fingers twitched at your sides, the beaded strands of your top catching the light and casting tiny rainbows across your sun-kissed collarbone.
Neytiri stood frozen a few paces away, her bandaged torso rising and falling with shallow breaths that strained against the wrappings, confusion etching deep furrows into her features. A heavy feeling settled in her gut that churned like the undercurrents of the reef, it was pulling at her with an ominous weight she couldn't shake. She didn't like where this was going, the undercurrents of secrets bubbling to the surface that was threatening to drag her under.
Neteyam met his father's gaze with a cold smile, his lips curving in a sharp unwavering arc that didn't reach the icy resolve in his amber eyes. His arm around your waist remained firm, the sinewy muscles of his forearm flexing subtly against the curve of your hip and anchoring you to his side as if daring anyone to sever the bond.
"You have no right to act righteous, sir." He replied with the title dripping in disdain, his voice low and edged with barely restrained venom. "Not when you mated with her while you have a wife and family here waiting for your return."
Neytiri's face crumpled in an instant, the planes of her cheeks hollowing as shock drained the color from her azure skin and her full lips parting in a gasp that revealed the sharp tips of her fangs.
"Neteyam, what are you talking about?" She whispered, her tone fracturing with raw bewilderment as her one hand instinctively pressed against the bandages over her chest as if to steady the ache starting to bloom there.
Neteyam turned his head slightly toward her but his stare never wavered from Jake's, the intensity of it like a blade held steady. His grip on you tightened with his fingers digging into the soft flesh just above your loincloth in a possessive claim that sent a warm shiver racing up your back.
"When Dad went to ZĂ€âraiya." He explained with his words measured and cutting, each one landing like a strike from a well-aimed arrow. "He pretended he was unmated, pretended we didn't exist. He mated with her while she was unaware of the truth. Mated both in body and tsaheylu, Mom."
Jake's eyes held a glint then, a flicker of sharp recognition flashing in their depths as he locked onto Neteyam's unblinking stare. His broad shoulders squaring beneath each calm breaths that moved his powerful frame.
"So you knew." He stated flatly, not a question but a statement wrapped in quiet acceptance as his tail flicked once behind him in restrained agitation.
Neytiri let out a cry of disbelief, a sharp keening sound that tore from her throat like the wail of a banshee. Her eyes were wide and shimmering with unshed tears as it darted to your form cradled in her son's protective embrace. Her tail flicking erratically in her rising distress as it swats on the sand.
"And you didn't tell me?" She demanded, her voice breaking on the edge of hysteria as betrayal twisted her features into something feral and wounded. "No one in this family are capable of being truthful?"
She took a step forward then, her legs propelling her with a desperate fury, the woven fibers of her skirt whispering against her thighs as she closed the distance.
Neteyam's hold on you constricted instinctively, his body tensing like a coiled spring with the heat of his chest pressing against your shoulder in a shield of solidarity. Jake surged ahead in the same breath, his massive hand clamping around Neytiri's upper arm, the calluses of his palm rough against her skin as he held her back with unyielding strength.
"Stop." He commanded, his tone brooking no argument as his eyes flashed with a protective fire for you. "She didn't know anything."
Neytiri hissed at him with a guttural sound rumbling from deep in her chest. Her ears pinning flat against her skull as she wrenched her gaze back to you with fury blazing in the stormy depths of her irises like lightning over the ocean.
"You had even said he was lucky to be mated with me." She spat, words venomous and laced with agony as her free hand clenched into a fist at her side with her nails biting into her palm. "And yet you didn't even tell me you mated with my husband? You all play me for a fool?"
The hurt etched into every line of her body was palpable. Her shoulders hunched under the weight of Jake's betrayal and the sting of her son's silence compounding the wound until it festered into something darker. She couldn't help the hate that surged toward you, a boiling rage that made her vision tunnel and her instincts screaming to lash out. She wanted to gut you where you stood, Swok 'Awpo or not, the sacred protections of your status meant nothing in the face of this raw primal pain she felt. Her tail lashing wildly behind her like a whip cracking in the wind.
You met her glare steadily with your posture unbowed, the arch of your neck tilting slightly as you drew a measured breath, letting the sea breeze tousle the loose waves of your hair that framed your striking face.
"That night I knew of you." You told her, voice soft yet laced with feigned vulnerability, playing the victim with the skill of a seasoned storyteller as your lower lip trembled just enough to sell the illusion. "I broke it off with him. You are not the only one who was lied to."
Neteyam drew you closer, his chin brushing the crown of your head in a subtle gesture of comfort as his scent enveloped you like a cloak.
"She's telling the truth, Mom." He affirmed, his tone gentle toward her but firm as iron, his eyes still watchful on the unfolding drama. "I was there watching it all. How she cried, how she left Dad when she knew the truth."
Jake remained quiet throughout, his presence a towering sentinel but a knowing glint sparked in his eye as he observed his own son holding you like you were his alone. He eyes the way Neteyam's fingers traced absent patterns on your hip in a silent declaration. His grip on Neytiri didn't ease, his knuckles whitening as he positioned himself between her and you, ready to intervene if the fury boiled over.
"Argh!" Neytiri hissed at you still, the sound raw and animalistic as her body trembled with the effort to contain the storm raging inside her, beads of sweat glistening on her face despite the cooling breeze.
You see Jake tighten his grip on her, ready to defend you from her wrath. It almost made you smile, you didnât need anyone elseâs protection. You could take down everyone here and leave unscathed yet of course, you were playing a part here.
"You were the reason why he's different when he came back here from ZĂ€âraiya." She accused as her voice cracked with realization, her gaze boring into you like spears. "It was you all along."
Jake intervened then, his voice calm and measured as it cut through the chaos like a steady current amid turbulent waves. Your lilac eyes met his across the short distance, locking in a moment of electric silence. There was an unreadable look in his gaze. A swirl of regret, resolve, and something deeper like more possessive that made your pulse quicken.
He turned to his son, the command slipping from his lips with quiet authority. "Take her."
Neteyam blankly stared back for a heartbeat, his expression a mask of stoic defiance before he nodded once and urged you to walk with him. His hand slid to the small of your back as he guided you with gentle pressure away from the confrontation.
"Come on, yawne." He murmured with his breath warm against your ear, his voice low and soothing amid the rising tension. "Let's go back to your marui."
Neytiri tried to protest as she lunged forward with a strangled cry, her bandaged form straining against Jake's hold but he tightened his fingers around her arm to anchor her in place with unyielding determination.
Jake watched the two of you leave, his gaze tracking the sway of your hips and the protective drape of Neteyam's arm around you. A pang twisting in his chest like a thorn embedding deeper. His heart hardened at the sight, the easy intimacy between you and his son a fresh wound that fueled the resolve steeling his spine. Finally, he faced the woman he once loved, the mother of his children, her eyes red-rimmed and accusatory under the relentless sun.
"It's time we talk." He said releasing her arm slowly, his tone heavy with the weight of inevitability.
Neytiri pulled her arm away from him with a sharp jerk, the motion sending a fresh wave of pain through her injuries but it was nothing compared to the fury snarling from her lips as she bared her teeth.
"How could you, Jake?" She demanded, her voice a whip-crack of anguish and rage as tears spilled down her cheeks to trace salty paths over her high cheekbones.
Jake sighed deeply, the sound ragged as it escaped his lungs, his broad chest rising and falling beneath the tension. He ran a hand over his face, fingers lingering on the kuru at the base of his skull as if grounding himself in the neural link that bound him to this world.
"When I went there." He began with his eyes distant as memories flooded back, his voice softening with reluctant honesty. "I didn't know if I could convince them to help us. At first, I wanted to get closer to her to make her ease up to the idea of helping us but somewhere along the way, it stopped being like that. It became... real. I knew it became real when I lied the moment she asked if I was mated. I'm sorry, Neytiri. I couldn't stop myself from falling for her."
He paused as his gaze returned to hers raw and unguarded, the vulnerability cracking through his usual soldier facade.
"The days I spent there, I felt like I was me again. Free, light, happy. It feels like I wasn't a failure to her, it feels like I'm not a disgusting alien to her. It feels like I'm just Jake. Not Toruk Makto, not a clan leader. Just Jake who is free and okay to be human sometimes too."
Neytiri's heart clenched at the look in Jake's eyes, to the unmistakable glow of love shining there. It was bright and unapologetic, piercing her like the sunlight fracturing on the waves.
His words hit her more like a blow to her chest, each syllable a hammer strike against the fragile remnants of their bond. It was far more agonizing than the bullet wound that still throbbed beneath her bandages. She staggered back a step, hand flying to her mouth to stifle a sob. The world around her faded into a hollow roar as the foundations of her life crumbled beneath her feet.
Neytiri's chest tightened with the familiar ache that had lingered unspoken between them for years, a shadow woven into the fabric of their bond. She knew Jake understood the undercurrent of resentment she harbored toward the human essence that still echoed in his Na'vi form, the way his broader shoulders and the subtle cadence of his speech sometimes betrayed his origins.
It wasn't hatred, not truly, but a deep-seated grief for the sky demons who had scorched her world. For claiming her sister's light and her father's unyielding strength in a blaze of destruction. That lingering fragment of his past even diluted by Eywa's grace stood as a perpetual reminder of the invaders who had torn her life asunder. And that's precisely why his confession of how you made him feel truly seen and unburdened by his alien scars struck her like a venomous sting, it has reopened wounds she'd bandaged with duty and devotion.
Her voice emerged soft and fractured, laced with a tremor that betrayed the vulnerability cracking her usual warrior's resolve as she reached out a tentative hand toward his arm, her fingers hovering just short of contact.
"I did not mean to make you feel that way, Jake." She murmured, tears welling anew in the corners of her luminous eyes. "I can't help butâ"
Jake intercepted her words with a gentle lift of his hand, his palm cupping her cheek in a touch that was tender yet resolute. The rough pads of his fingers brushing away a stray tear that traced a glistening path down her high cheekbone. His golden gaze softened, holding hers with a quiet intensity that spoke of shared history and quiet sorrow.
"Shh." He soothed, his voice a low rumble and steady as the reef's unyielding stones. "None of my actions were your fault. This was my decision, all of the blame is on me. I was the one who let myself be swayed, the one who let myself fall."
He drew in a deep sigh then, the sound heavy with the weight of confessions long overdue. His broad chest expanding beneath his inhales, the faint scars across his torso shifting like maps of old battles. His tail curled loosely at his feet in a subtle sign of the emotional undercurrents swirling within him.
"I will never blame you for resenting humanity." He continued, his tone earnest and genuine, eyes searching hers for understanding amid the pain. "They took everything from youâyour home, your family. I understand there will always be a part of you that remembers I was human once, that I carry that shadow. The kids... I will never regret them. They were proof of how you tried to love me despite the human in me. They were proof of the love I once had for you, whole and unbroken."
Neytiri's resolve shattered at his words, a sob escaping her lips as tears cascaded freely now. It carved rivulets over the curve of her jaw and dripping onto the sands. Her shoulders shook with the force of it, her frame curling inward as if to shield her heart from the finality in his voice.
Jake pressed on, his expression a mosaic of regret and clarity, one hand lingering on her shoulder while the other gestured vaguely toward the horizon.
"When you were shot." He said, voice dropping to a husky whisper thick with emotion, "I prayed to Eywa that she would save you. I may not love you like I used to anymore but I respect you deeply, Neytiri. I care for you as the person who's stood by my side for years, through every storm and victory."
Her heart clenched vise-like in her chest, a desperate flutter igniting a fragile spark of hope amid the devastation. That perhaps he would choose her still, mend the fractures with the strength of their shared past, and reclaim the life they'd built amid the chaos. She leaned into his touch instinctively, her fingers clutching at his wrist, nails pressing faint crescents into his azure skin willing him to see the plea in her stormy eyes.
But Jake's gaze grew distant and shadowed by resolve as he shook his head slowly, braids whispering against his shoulders.
"But my heart... I cannot stay with you knowing it yearns for her." He admitted, the words landing like stones in still water as it rippled through the air between them. "I cannot stay anymore knowing I can't give you myself completely now. You can hurt me, yell at me, do anything to meâjust don't harm her. She didn't know anything. The night she learned the truth, she left and hasn't looked my way since. I was ready to die Neytiri, when I surrendered to Quaritch. In a way, it was me atoning for my sins to you and to her. Then she came and saved me despite the anger burning in her eyes and now I'm here laying my truths to you."
That revelation shattered the last of her illusions, the final barrier crumbling as Jake's unwavering choice of you and to protect you above all sank into her soul like a blade. Her body sagged, knees buckling slightly as she pressed a hand to her bandaged side as the physical pain paled against the emotional torrent flooding her veins. Her hope flickered out leaving only the raw sting of abandonment, her tail drooping limply behind her in defeat.
"I'm sorry." Jake whispered, his thumb sweeping gently across her cheek to wipe away the fresh tears. His touch lingering with a bittersweet affection born of habit rather than passion. He may not love her as before but the sight of her anguish twisted something deep within him. He hated being the architect of her sorrow, the one to dim the fire that had once illuminated his world. "I'll move out of the marui tonight. It's better that way, for both of us."
A pang of guilt tugged at him as he stepped back to create space between them but beneath it bloomed a profound lightness as if chains long forged in secrecy had finally snapped. He had bared his truth at last, unshackling not just himself but you and Neytiri from the suffocating veil of lies that had poisoned your days.
Meanwhile back in the sanctuary of your marui, the woven walls enclosed you in a cocoon of privacy.
Neteyam held you close, his strong arms encircling your waist with a possessive tenderness that grounded you amid the day's tempests.
You curled up against his chest, your head nestling into the warm hollow where his heartbeat thrummed steadily in a rhythmic anchor that vibrated through your cheek. The faint scent of sea salt and wild herbs clung to his skin, mingling with the subtle musk of his exertion as his fingers idly traced the intricate golden markings that swirled across your gray skin like veins of liquid sunlight. Each stroke sending delicate shivers dancing along your spine.
"Everything will be okay, yawne." He murmured against your hair, his voice a soothing baritone laced with determination. His lips brushing your forehead in a kiss that lingered softly and reassuringly, the heat of his breath fanning over your forehead. "I'll protect you from everything. From my family, from the world if I have to."
"Mhm." You hummed appreciatively, the sound vibrating low in your throat as you played the part to perfection with your body molding seamlessly to his and your legs tangling with his in lazy intimacy on the padded sleeping mat.
A secret smile curved your lips then, hidden against the firm planes of his abdomen as you curled your fingers there. Your nails grazing lightly over the taut ridges of muscle beneath his smooth azure hide, feeling the subtle flex and release with each breath he took.
Jake had truly proved his love for you today. Standing firm in the face of Neytiri's fury, choosing your safety over his own comfort, and weaving you deeper into the heart of their unraveling family. The triumph warmed you from within, a sly satisfaction blooming as you envisioned the ripples of your manipulations spreading further and securing your place in this web of loyalties and desires.
In the shadowed fringes of the ash territory where the air hung thick with the acrid tang of smoldering embers and distant volcanic haze, Quaritch leaned against a jagged outcrop of blackened rock. His towering blue frame slouched in a rare moment of repose. His gold-flecked eyes scanned the milling Mangkwan warriors below of slender figures draped in ritualistic hides, their movements a blend of predatory grace and simmering unrest.
Lyle sat beside him with his legs stretched out on the gritty ground, his own azure skin dusted with fine ash that clung to the ridges of his biceps like war paint.
The two recombinants shared a silence broken only by the low crackle of a nearby fire pit but Quaritch's mind churned with echoes of what had just transpired in Varang's tent, a encounter that left him hollow rather than sated.
Earlier in the dim interior of the Mangkwan Tsahik's enclosure that pulsed with the scent of incense and sweat, Varang had pulled him in with her usual commanding fervor. Her lithe battle-scarred body pressing against his as she nipped at the edge of his jaw, her sharp teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
"You've been distant, Quaritch." She growled, her voice a husky rasp laced with suspicion while her fingers dug into the firm swell of his pectorals as she shoved him back onto the fur-strewn pallet. Her eyes narrowed into something accusatory. "What pulls your thoughts away these days? Another secret from the shadows?"
Quaritch had smirked then to mask the turmoil roiling in his gut, his large hands spanning her narrow waist to flip her beneath him with effortless strength.
"Just the war, Varang." He lied as he hooked one of her legs over his hip, the beads of her loincloth scattering like brittle bones under his insistent tug.
But as he thrust into her, the slick heat of her core clenching around his thick cock, all he could summon were fractured visions of you. Of your form arching beneath him in that forest glade, the way your gray skin shimmered under dappled light, and the golden golden markings tracing paths he longed to follow with his tongue. Varang's moans filled the tent with her nails raking bloody trails down his back but they rang hollow against the memory of your teasing whispers and your knowing gaze that stripped him bare.
"Harder." She demanded, her hips bucking up to meet his punishing rhythm with her breasts heaving from each slap of flesh against flesh, nipples taut peaks brushing his chest. Suspicion flickered in her tone, her hands clutching his kuru to yank his face closer. Her lips crashing against his in a bruising kiss that tasted of herbs and doubt. "Do I feel you pulling away already?"
Quaritch had grunted in response and buried himself deeper, the obscene squelch of their joining echoing off the walls but his mind betrayed him. His mind was replaying the velvet grip of your pussy, it was tighter and wetter, pulling him in like a siren's call. The fire he'd once kindled for Varang, the raw primal blaze that had drawn him to her ferocity had sputtered to embers, fully extinguished by the inferno you ignited in him without mercy.
He couldn't shake the ghost of your kiss, soft yet devouring, your supple lips parting to invite his tongue in a dance that left him breathless. Being inside you had been revelation, your walls fluttering around him like living silk and milking every inch until he spilled with a growl that shook his being. Your cunning intellect wove through his defenses. Your unapologetic essence, boldly manipulative and utterly you haunted him now, a contrast to Varang's guarded intensity. Even your words reverberated in him, a taunt wrapped in prophecy.
Stop fighting for humanity, for the wrong side. It would only drag you to an unmarked grave.
As he finally withdrew from Varang, her body glistening with sweat and legs splayed in exhausted sprawl, she'd propped herself on an elbow with her gaze piercing through the post-coital haze.
"You're not the same, Quaritch." She said almost vulnerably, her fingers trailing idly over the fresh welts on his shoulder. "What changed you?"
He only chuckled low as he pulled on his minimal coverings with a shrug that hid the conflict gnawing at his core before slipping out into the cooling dusk without a backward glance.
Now back against the rock, Quaritch broke the silence with Lyle, his voice a low drawl edged with cynicism. "What do you think the RDA will do to us once we complete our mission?"
He tilted his head as he watched a Mangkwan scout sharpen a blade nearby, the rhythmic scrape underscoring his words.
Lyle hummed thoughtfully, scratching at the stubble along his jaw. His broad shoulders rolling in a casual shrug that belied the tension in his yellowed eyes.
"I don't know, Colonel." He replied, tone neutral but curious as he glanced sidelong at his superior.
Quaritch chuckled dryly, the sound scraping like gravel underfoot as he crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms bunching visibly.
"You think they'd praise us once our purpose is served and treat us like some million dollar hotshot or do you think they'd dispose of us like yesterday's trash?" He paused, golden gaze drifting to the horizon where volcanic plumes stained the sky. "We ain't humans anymore, Lyle. Can't go back to Earth and breathe that recycled shit once everything's done here. We're stuck in this blue-skinned shell or whatever passes for paradise."
Lyle's expression shifted as the words sunk in like lead weights, his tail flicking idly against the rock as he processed the grim reality heâd never really thought about. He met Quaritch's stare, brows furrowing over his rugged features.
"We're basically just tools for Ardmore." Quaritch added with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes, the curve of his lips sharp and self-deprecating as it revealed the faint points of his elongated canines.
Lyle pondered for a beat, his fingers drumming on his knee before voicing the thoughts that mirrored his own.
"Do you think they'll kill us after?" His voice dropped and body tensing as if bracing for the answer.
Quaritch leaned back further, the rough stone biting into his spine as his mind flashed to you. Your lilac eyes and the sway of your hips then flashed to the stinging rebuke from Ardmore yesterday with her words branding him a traitor in his own ranks.
"Ardmore pulled me out of the mission." He said, his tone hardening with resentment. "Said I'm too Na'vi now. It's not long before the RDA sees me as just another local and shoots me down like how we do with these fuckers here."
He gestured dismissively at the Mangkwans below with a bitter edge creeping into his drawl. Pushing to his feet in a fluid motion, Quaritch's full height unfolded like a predator rising, shadows playing over the sculpted lines of his abdomen and the kuru dangling at his back.
"There's a possibility they might go after us one by one." He continued with his voice steady and commanding. "They'll come for me first if it comes down to that then all of you are next."
He turned striding away with purposeful steps, boots crunching over ash-choked earth leaving Lyle staring after him deep in furrowed thought and the weight of uncertainty settling like dust on his shoulders.
"What do you think we should do then?" Lyle called out, his voice carrying a mix of tension and deference, rising slightly as he half-stood.
Quaritch paused glancing back over his shoulder with that trademark smirk, his gold eyes glinting with unspoken schemes.
"That's the question ain't it, soldier?" He replied cryptically before vanishing into the haze.
Meanwhile in the quiet sanctuary of your marui, the woven walls filtered the soft glow of lights casting ethereal patterns across your sleeping form. You stirred in the depths of slumber with your body curled on the padded mat, your gray skin dewy with the remnants of earlier intimacy and golden markings dormant like hidden rivers waiting to surge. Dreams clawed at the edges of your consciousness, flashes of carnage that seared like lightning strikes.
The waters running red with blood, the acrid scream of plasma rifles tearing through azure and teal flesh, Eywa's vast consciousness pulsing in fury amid thunderous skies. You saw sky demons descending in metallic swarms, their shadows eclipsing the sun while clans from distant forests and reefs converged in a symphony of war cries and arrows whistling like vengeful spirits. Death loomed in fragmented visions, a brother's fall and a lover's gasp, interwoven with Eywa's serene glow as a beacon amid the storm.
You woke with a soft gasp, bolting upright as your hand flew to your temple with your fingers pressing against the throbbing pulse there. Your marks ignited in response, golden lines flaring vividly across your arms and torso, illuminating the curve of your breasts and the dip of your waist in the dim space as it casted flickering shadows that danced like fireflies. Heart pounding against your ribs, you drew in ragged breaths, the air tasting of salt and lingering herbs from Neteyam's touch.
Visions weren't your domain. Your sister Sa'meyra bore that gift with her mind a vessel for Eywa's whispers. Why now? Why you when the weight of prophecy had always spared your shoulders?
Neteyam had slipped away earlier, his reluctance etched in the furrow of his brow and the lingering press of his lips to your knuckles.
"I don't want to leave you, yawne." He murmured, his voice thick with concern as his warm palm cupped your cheek and his thumb tracing the arch of your forehead.
But you urged him gently, masking your coy thoughts for solitude with a soft smile, your fingers intertwining with his in a fleeting bond. "Go check on your family's marui. I need space to let everything sink in, the revelations, the shifts."
He nodded reluctantly as he stole one last kiss that tasted of promise before vanishing into the village paths. Exhaustion had claimed you then, your eyelids drooping as you sank into the mat, your body heavy with the day's emotional toll and careful acting. But sleep had twisted into this maelstrom leaving you shaken.
Did Sa'meyra see this too, her visions aligning with mine in some divine convergence? Eywa, I wish she was here to answer me.
War loomed on the horizon, inevitable as the tide, and the deaths you'd glimpsed stirred something in your chest as you fall back to sleep again with a heavy mind. Hours later, the first rays of dawn filtered through the woven slits of your marui painting the interior in soft hues of coral and gold as the distant calls of ilu echoed from the lagoon below.
You sat cross-legged on the low sleeping platform, your gray skin still carrying the faint luminescence from last night's visions and seemed almost ethereal in the morning light. Your golden markings remained subdued, a quiet thrum against your temples as you stared unseeing at the rippling water beyond. Silence enveloped you heavy and introspective as your mind replayed the fragmented horrors.
Why had Eywa chosen me for this burden? This was always my sisterâs weight to bear.
The weight pressed on your chest making each breath feel labored, your fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns on your thigh as if to ground yourself in the present.
A gentle knock at the entrance flap shattered the quiet, the sound rhythmic and familiar like the beat of a drum calling you back to life. The flap parted and Ao'nung ducked inside, his broad shoulders filling the space with an effortless presence that made the marui feel smaller and warmer. His teal skin gleamed under the dawn's touch, the tattoos snaking across his chest and arms flexing subtly as he straightened, a woven basket balanced in one massive hand.
His face broke into a radiant smile that crinkled the corners of his piercing teal eyes, softening the usual intensity of his metkayina features. Strands of his dark braids adorned with tiny shells that clinked softly framed his handsome visage and he moved with that predatory grace, hips swaying just enough to draw your gaze downward to the taut lines of his abdomen disappearing into his low-slung loincloth.
"Good morning, princess." He rumbled, his voice a deep affectionate timbre laced with playful warmth as he approached with purposeful strides, the muscles in his thighs coiling like coiled ropes beneath his skin.
You couldn't help but smile back, the expression blooming slowly across your face despite the shadows in your thoughts. Your lilac eyes roaming appreciatively over his form, the way his tattoos seemed to dance with each breath, accentuating the powerful V of his torso and the faint scars from past hunts adding a rugged allure to his otherwise flawless beauty.
"Morning, Ao'nung." You replied softly, your voice carrying a husky edge from the night's unrest as you shifted slightly to let the shawl slip further and revealing the pert peaks of your nipples brushing against the fabric.
He set the basket down beside you with a gentle thud, the aroma of fresh roasted fish and ripe fruits wafting up. Mango-like pandanus slices glistening with dew and tender strips of fish flaky thatâs seasoned with sea herbs. As he settled onto the platform facing you with his knees bracketing yours in an intimate cage, you noted the deliberate care in his preparations.
Courting you now meant proving his worth, not just as a warrior but as a provider, ensuring your belly was full and your body nourished under his watchful gaze.
"I brought breakfast." He said with pride swelling in his chest as he plucked a piece of fruit, holding it to your lips with fingers that brushed your mouth tenderly. "Open up, let me take care of you."
Before you could respond, he leaned in capturing your lips in a slow lingering kiss, tongue flicking out to tease the seam of yours with a low hum of satisfaction. The taste of salt from the sea lingered on him, mingling with the sweetness of the fruit as he pulled back just enough to feed you the slice, his thumb wiping a stray drop of juice from your chin with a possessive stroke.
You chewed slowly, savoring not just the flavors but the way his eyes darkened with desire, tracking the movement of your throat as you swallowed. He fed you methodically then, another bite of fish thatâs flaky and steaming, balanced on his fingertips which you nipped playfully drawing a chuckle from deep in his chest. His free hand rested on your knee, thumb circling lazy patterns on your inner thigh and inching higher with each morsel as a silent promise of the care that extended beyond sustenance to the heat building between you.
"You're spoiling me." You murmured between bites, your hand coming up to trace the edge of one tattoo curling over his bicep to feel the heat radiating from his skin and the subtle twitch of muscle under your touch.
He grinned feeding you a final piece before setting the remnants aside, his body shifting closer until his chest nearly brushed yours. "That's the point, isn't it? My future mate deserves to be cherished. Fed, protected, pleasured."
His words dripped with earnest intent, eyes locking onto yours with that unwavering focus but then his expression softened further in a boyish excitement lighting his features as he cupped your cheek.
"And speaking of family... I'm buzzing inside about my baby sister. My motherâs due any day now and I can't wait to hold her and teach her to swim the currents like we do."
You watched him as he spoke, his voice animated and hands gesturing with fluid grace. The way his broad palms mimed cradling an infant, his face alight with a rare vulnerability that stripped away his usual cocky exterior leaving him looking impossibly soft and almost fragile in his joy. The sharp angles of his jaw relaxed, lips curving in a genuine smile that revealed the dimple in his left cheek and for a moment he was just Ao'nung, the boy who dreamed of many siblings amid the waves.
But it twisted something deep in your gut, a pang of sorrow blooming like ink in water because in the visions' cruel gallery, Ronal lay hurt with her life ebbing away in a pool of her own blood, leaving her family and this manâyour manâbereft.
Unable to voice the dread, you reached out with your fingers caressing the smooth plane of his cheek, tracing the strong line of his jaw with a tenderness that belied the storm inside you. He fell silent mid-sentence, teal eyes snapping to yours with surprise flickering before melting into warmth, that smile deepening as he nuzzled into your palm like a contented ilu.
Leaning in he pressed a smooch to your lips, soft and exploratory at first but his inked arm snaked around your waist with possessive strength to anchor you flush against him, the hard ridges of his abs pressing into your softer curves. The kiss deepened naturally, his tongue sweeping in to claim yours in a lazy tangle eliciting a soft moan from your throat.
Ao'nung pulled back just enough to murmur against your mouth, his breath hot and ragged. "Feeling extra touchy today, princess? Not that I'm complaining, your hands on me feel like Eywa's own blessing."
You rolled your eyes at his teasing lilt, a chuckle bubbling up as you nipped his lower lip in retaliation, the sound light but edged with the undercurrent of your hidden grief. "You just look extra handsome today that's why. Those tattoos... they make me want to trace every line with my tongue."
It was true, his body was a masterpiece, the ink accentuating the swell of his pecs and the dip of his hips but the words also served as a balm against the vision's chill as a way to anchor yourself in his vitality.
He laughed low and throaty, the vibration rumbling through his chest into yours. "It's because I wanted to look good for you, fresh before the morning hunt and all primed to make you smile."
His hands roamed then, settling on your hips with a firm grip with his thumbs digging into the plush flesh just above your loincloth to knead with deliberate pressure that sent sparks skittering up your spine.
Giggling, you surged forward kissing him fiercely, your lips parting to suckle on his tongue with hungry pulls that draws a guttural groan from him as his body responded instantly. His cock twitching against your thigh through the thin barrier of fabric as it thickened with arousal. His hands slid lower cupping the full globes of your ass, kneading the firm muscle with rough squeezes that made you arch into him. Your breasts pressing against his chest, nipples hardening into tight buds that scraped deliciously against his skin.
He parted your ass cheeks with a bold spread of his fingers, the cool air teasing your exposed folds before one thick digit circled your entrance teasingly. Not penetrating but stimulating with feather-light strokes that had your pussy clenching in anticipation, the slickness gathering as you ground against his palm.
"Fuck, princess." He growled breaking the kiss to nip at your earlobe, his voice husky with need. "You get me so hard just like this. If I didn't have to go... I'd bury myself inside you right now and make you scream my name until the whole reef hears itâs their future Oloâeyktan making you feel this way."
You whimpered softly, your hips bucking involuntarily into his touch but reality intruded as he reluctantly withdrew his hand, though not before giving your ass one last possessive smack that echoed with a sharp sting. Straightening slightly he composed himself, though his erection strained visibly against his loincloth as a testament to his restraint and hunger for you.
"I'll be gone for a day or two to lead the hunting party with Roxto and the others. But I'll come back with the biggest catch Pandora's ever seen just for you, to prove I can provide."
Rolling your eyes with a laugh that masked the weight in your heart, Roxto's face also flashed in your mind, lifeless amid the carnage. You swatted his chest playfully, feeling the solid thump of his heartbeat. "Always the show-off. What, trying to impress your future mate with your fishing prowess?"
He shrugged cockily, that smirk returning full force as he flexed his arms in exaggerated display, his tattoos there rippling like living art. âDamn right. Gotta keep you wanting me, right? And Roxto's coming along too, he's got my back out there. He always has so you have nothing to worry about."
You tilted your head studying him with a feigned casualness though your pulse quickened at the mention, the vision of Roxto's struck body searing fresh and his loyal grin silenced forever.
Poor Ao'nung to lose so much.
Your heart clenched involuntarily in a sharp twist that made your breath hitch.
"He is important to you?" You asked, voice softer than intended and laced with a quiet concern that had him pausing.
Chuckling warmly, he pulled you fully into his chest to envelope you in the cocoon of his arms, your cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of his breathing and inhaling the musky scent of sea salt thatâs distinctly him. "Mhm, he's been my best friend since we were kids. Couldn't imagine a hunt without him watching my flank."
Humming in response, you pressed a tender kiss to the center of his chest right over his heart, your lips lingering on the warm tattooed skin and tasting the faint salt of his sweat. Two deaths loomed like shadows over those he cherished most, a mother who had clasped your hands in gratitude for your clan's aid and a friend woven into the fabric of his youth. Fate was a cruel weaver to thread joy with inevitable sorrow and you wondered if your visions were a call to unravel it.
Ao'nung tilted your chin up to seal your lips in another kiss, deeper this time with your tongues dueling with a mix of passion and farewell. His hands roaming your back in soothing strokes that dipped low to grip your waist. He rose reluctantly and pulling you up with him, his towering frame casting a protective shadow as he adjusted his loincloth with a wry grin. "I'll return to you as soon as possible, princess. Wait for me, dream of how I'll claim you when I do."
You giggled, the sound light and teasing to hide the lump in your throat as you stepped forward to trace his jaw one last time. "Hurry back then. I'll be here missing that smile of yours.
With a final lingering press of his forehead to yours, he turned and slipped out. His tattooed broad back disappearing into the morning bustle leaving you alone with the echo of his promise and the heavy veil of foresight Eywa has given you.
The morning sun climbed higher over Awa'atlu, casting a warm golden glow through the open weave of Jake's new marui. The space was sparse but it was his own. It was filled with a simple sleeping mat piled with woven blankets, a few carved spears leaning against the wall, his bow and quiver hung neatly beside the entrance flap, and a small shelf holding personal trinkets from his human days thatâs now relics of a life half-forgotten. It smelled of fresh thatch and sea brine, untainted by the familiar scents of Neytiri's herbs or the children's laughter that had once filled their family home.
Jake stood in the center, his broad scarred blue frame clad only in a low-slung loincloth that hugged the powerful lines of his hips, the fabric doing little to conceal the taut muscles of his thighs or the faint ridges of old wounds crisscrossing his abdomen. His tail flicked idly behind him with a restless twitch betraying the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.
For the first time in years, he felt unburdened and light as a feather caught in an updraft. No more stolen thoughts and no more whispered lies in the dead of night. The separation from Neytiri and the kids last night had been raw and a necessary severance but it freed him to breathe, to claim what was truly his without the shadow of deceit hanging over every touch.
He didn't know what Neytiri had told Kiri, Lo'ak, Tuk, and Spider. Perhaps a vague tale of clan duties pulling him away or the truth sharpened into what it really is. Neteyam might have spun it differently to protect the family's fragile peace. Nonetheless, Jake would face it all eventually and shoulder the fallout like he always did but right now, his mind churned with a darker current.
Jealousy, sharp and visceral, coiling in his gut like a serpent ready to strike. Images assaulted him of Neteyam's hands, so like his own yet unscarred by human folly, gliding over your light gray skin that shimmered like moonlit mist. His fingers tangling in your flowing white hair pulling you close, thumbs tracing the golden markings that pulsed with your arousal along your collarbone and down the elegant arch of your spine. Those lilac eyes of yours, wide and hazy with desire, locking onto his son's golden gaze.
His own flesh and blood drawn to you, touching what he had claimed under Eywa's indifferent stars. The betrayal stung deeper than any blade, a wound laced with possessive fury. He needed to talk to you, to reclaim the ground shifting beneath him. Just as he reached for his knife belt and slinging it low around his waist with a decisive snap, the entrance flap rustled open on a soft breeze.
You slipped inside, your presence filling the marui like a sudden rush of warm air. Your form moving with that innate grace that always made his pulse stutter. Your white hair cascaded in loose waves over your shoulders catching the light in silken threads while your golden markings glowed faintly against the smooth expanse of your light gray skin. It traced delicate paths from your temples to the swell of your breasts thatâs barely contained by the thin beaded strands of your top. Those lilac eyes met his, sparkling with a mix of apprehension and something softer, and your full lips curved into a shy smile that belied the minx you truly were. Your tail curling playfully at your back as you stepped closer with your hips swaying with subtle allure.
Jake's heart thudded hard against his ribs, a heavy drumbeat echoing in his ears as his golden eyes widened fractionally before narrowing with a surge of relief and unresolved tension.
"Baby." He breathed, voice rough with emotion as he stepped forward instinctively. His large hand reaching out to cup your elbow, thumb brushing the velvety skin there in a grounding stroke. "I was just about to find you. We need to talk."
You nodded, the carefully shy smile you crafted lingering as you let him guide you deeper into the space to settle onto the edge of the sleeping mat together. Your knee brushing his thigh in a spark of contact that sent heat licking up his leg. You knew exactly what simmered beneath his words. The jealousy radiating from him like heat from a fire, confusion etching faint lines around his eyes, and the hurt flickering in the set of his jaw. He was piecing together the fragments Neteyam had left in his wake and you owed him the truth, no matter how it carved into the web you spun.
"Talk to me." He urged, his voice low and steady, though his fingers tightened on your arm betraying the storm brewing in him. "Is there something between you and my son?"
You drew a slow breath, your chest rising and falling beneath the scant covering, the beads shifting to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of the curve beneath your breast.
"He overheard us, Jake. That night we argued when everything spilled out, he was listening from the shadows. I didn't know until later when I left to go to my marui, he followed me." You paused watching his expression darken, the muscles in his neck cording as he absorbed it. "He confronted me right there. He said he'd keep our secret, your mating with me, but only if I left you and choose him instead."
Jake's breath hitched, his free hand clenching into a fist on his knee, knuckles paling against his blue skin.
"And what did you say?" He pressed, voice edged with a quiet fury though he held himself in check as his golden eyes bored into yours.
"I told him that you're still my mate no matter what happens, Jake. That what we have... it's woven too deep to unravel for anyone, even your own wife and family." You replied firmly, your lilac gaze unwavering as you leaned in closer so your scent enveloped him.
A muscle ticked in Jake's jaw, his calm facade cracking just enough to reveal the rage simmering below, it was controlled but volcanic. He released your arm standing abruptly to pace the short length of the marui, his bare feet silent on the mat and tail lashing like a whip.
"Did he fuck you?" The question came out flat and deadly calm but his shoulders tensed, every line of his powerful body radiating the effort it took to leash his anger.
You tilted your head, lilac eyes analyzing the rigid set of his spine and the way his loincloth tented slightly with the surge of possessive emotion. Your own body responding with a subtle throb low in your belly.
Honesty was the only path now. It would make you see the depth of his love for you. If he can accept you even if you spill your carefully spunned truths that would shatter him.
"Yes." You admitted softly, voice laced with regret but no apology and watching as the word landed like a blow.
"Fuck." Jake growled sinking back onto the mat with a heavy exhale, his head dropping into his hands as his fingers threaded through his dreads as if to anchor himself.
The image assaulted him anew of Neteyam, his firstborn and the golden son, pressing you down with his hands exploring the luminous trails of your golden markings as they flared under his touch. Your white hair splayed like a halo and lilac eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy. It tore at him like a visceral destruction, like Eywa herself was unraveling his world thread by thread. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, the jealousy twisting into something raw and aching.
You bit your lower lip, the plump flesh whitening under your teeth. A flicker of something unreadable crossing your features before you spoke, your hand reaching out to rest on his knee as your fingers traced the scarred skin there in soothing circles. "It's not only Neteyam."
He looked up sharply, golden eyes flashing with shock, his hands falling away to grip the edge of the mat with his knuckles digging into the weave. "What?"
The word was a harsh whisper, confusion bleeding into the fury as his broad chest rose and fell faster now.
"Your other son, Lo'ak." You continued, voice steady despite the tension coiling between you, your touch lingering as your thumb brushed higher along his inner thigh to feel the heat building there. "He wants to mate with me too, after the war when things settle."
Jake's eyes widened, disbelief warring with the dawning horror. "What? But he's with Tsireya and courting her openly. What the hell is this?"
There was a glint in your lilac eyes, sharp with mirth as you met his furious stare, your body shifting closer with your knee pressing against his in a deliberate press that made his breath catch.
"Yes, just like you were with Neytiri." You said, the words pointed and laced with a quiet accusation that hung heavy in the air.
His jaw clenched audibly, the strong line of it bulging under his skin. A low rumble building in his throat as he processed the mirror you held up to him, his own hypocrisy reflected back and his sons echoing his sins.
"Like father like son, ain't it warrior?" You added, your voice a husky murmur as your tail flicked to brush his calf in an electric contact.
Jake felt the world tilt with madness creeping in at the edges. A bitter laugh escaping his lips as he shook his head, the sound hollow and self-deprecating. He leaned back slightly with one hand coming up to rub at his face but not before you caught the way his loincloth shifted. Arousal warring with anguish, the thick outline of his cock stirring from your touch despite of the turmoil.
"I guess this is karma for me, huh? Lying to you all those times, cheating on Neytiri behind her back... and now my own sons circling the woman I love like animals in heat."
His voice cracked on the last word, golden eyes locking onto yours with a mix of pain and dark humor. His free hand dropping to adjust his loincloth with a rough tug, the fabric straining against his growing hardness from your touches.
Your heart twisted in glee and in pain at the vulnerability in his laugh and the way his shoulders slumped just a fraction. "I'm sorry, Jake."
The words were sincere as you can be, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek with your thumb stroking the rough texture of his jaw and feeling the faint tremor there.
He looked down for a moment chuckling again, the sound deeper now and edged with resolve as he caught your wrist to pull your hand to his lips for a brief heated kiss against your palm. Then slowly, a wry smirk tugged at his mouth, eyes darkening with intent as he met your gaze. His body leaning in with the heat of him enveloping you like a promise.
"Guess I just have to remind you who the better Sully is huh baby?" His voice dropped to a gravelly timbre thatâs laced with possessive hunger.
His free hand settling on your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a firm squeeze that made your core clench and a rush of slick warmth gathering between your thighs. The words sent a shiver through you, your pussy fluttering in response and nipples tightening against the beads of your top as you pressed closer to inhale the musky scent of his arousal mingling with the sea air.
"Jake..." You breathed with a husky voice but he wasn't done.
"I'll make sure to make you remember why I'm the man you've mated with." He murmured, his thumb circling your hipbone in slow teasing drags.
His eyes raking over your form, the way your golden markings began to pulse faintly under his scrutiny and your white hair framing the flush creeping across your light gray skin. His tail wrapped around your ankle anchoring you as the air thickened with unspoken lewd intent, the marui echoing with the promise of reclamation to come. His golden eyes burned into yours, pupils blown wide with feral intent, as his large hand gripped your hip harder, fingers splaying possessively over the curve where your skin met the thin strap of your loincloth.
You felt the heat radiating from his palm seeping into you, making your golden markings want to flicker to life in erratic pulses along your ribs and down to the dip of your navel. Your breath hitched, lilac eyes half-lidded as you leaned into him and savoring the way his tail tightened around your ankle, pulling you flush against the solid wall of his broad chest heaving with restrained fury.
"Jake." You whispered, voice breathy and laced with anticipation as your hands slid up his arms to grip the bulging cords of muscle there, your nails digging in just enough to draw a low growl from his throat.
He didn't respond with words at first. Instead he surged forward, crashing his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss that devoured any space between you. His lips were demanding, his tongue thrusting past your teeth to claim every inch, tasting of salt and desperation as he angled his head to deepen it. One hand tangling in your white hair to yank your head back, exposing the slender column of your throat.
You moaned into him, the sound vibrating against his invading tongue. Your body arching instinctively as his free hand roamed lower, cupping the swell of your ass and squeezing hard enough to leave faint imprints.
"You're mine." He snarled against your lips, breaking the kiss only to nip at your jaw with his teeth grazing the sensitive skin where your markings usually glowed brightest. His voice was a ragged rasp, unhinged edges sharpening each word. "Not theirs. Not my sons'. I'll fuck that thought right out of your pretty head, baby. Make you scream who owns this pussy."
A thrill shot through you as your core clenched at the possessiveness dripping from him like venom and you loved it. The wild jealousy that made him feral enough to unravel the composed warrior into something primal.
"Yes" You gasped tilting your head to give him better access, your fingers threading through his dreads to tug him closer. "Show me, Jake. Remind me."
He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your pulse point as he sucked a mark there, blooming purple against your gray skin. With a swift motion, he hooked his fingers into the ties of your beaded top ripping it free in one yank, the strands scattering like rain across the mat. Your breasts spilled out, full and heaving with your nipples pebbling in the cool air and he wasted no time in palming one roughly while his mouth descended to latch onto the other. His tongue swirled around the hardened peak, teeth grazing just shy of pain before he sucked hard to draw a sharp cry from your lips as pleasure jolted straight to your clit.
"Fuck, look at these tits." He muttered, voice muffled against your flesh as his hand kneaded the other breast, thumb flicking the nipple in time with his sucks. "All mine to mark, to bruise. Neteyam touch these? Lo'ak suck on 'em like the greedy little shit he is?"
He pulled back to glare up at you with his eyes wild before spitting directly onto your nipple, watching the saliva glisten as he smeared it with his thumb and the lewd act made your thighs slick with arousal.
You shook your head even as the memory of their hands flickered but it only fueled the fire. You wanted this, wanted him to erase it all with his dominance.
"Only you matter." You breathed, hips grinding against his thigh where he'd wedged it between your legs, the friction teasing your soaked folds through the thin barrier of fabric.
"Liar." He growled but there was a triumphant glint in his eyes as he shoved you back onto the sleeping mat, the woven fibers rough against your spine. He loomed over you, muscles rippling under his blue skin as he stripped off his loincloth, his cock springing free and already leaking pre-cum from the flushed tip, curving upward with a menace that made your mouth water. It bobbed heavily as he knelt between your thighs, yanking your loincloth aside to expose your dripping pussy, the lips swollen and glistening with your clit throbbing visibly.
"Look at you, already creaming for me." He said, his voice dripping with nasty satisfaction as his fingers parted your folds to expose the slick mess. There were strings of arousal connecting his digits as he spread you open. "This frothy little cunt knows who it belongs to. Bet it didn't gush like this for them, did it? My sons think they can take what's mine? I'll breed you so full of my seed, you'll be leaking Sully cum for days. Remind you I'm the original, the one who broke you in first."
Your walls fluttered at his words, a fresh gush of wetness coating his fingers as he plunged two inside you without warning, curling them against that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.
"Jakeâoh, Eywa." You whimpered, back bowing off the mat as your white hair fanned out like a silver halo.
He pumped his fingers slowly and deliberately, the wet squelch echoing obscenely in the marui, his thumb circling your clit with bruising pressure.
"Say it." He demanded, leaning down to hover his face inches from yours with his breath hot and ragged. "Tell me I'm better. Tell me no one's cock stretches this greedy hole like mine."
His free hand pinned your wrist above your head, his weight pressing you down, dominant and unyielding.
"You're better." You moaned, the words tumbling out in a haze as your free hand clawed at his shoulder, nails raking red lines down his arm freely now that the truth is now in the open. "No one... ahâfucks me like you, Jake. Please more."
You loved how his jealousy twisted him, made him rougher and nastier, every thrust of his fingers a claim staked deeper.
Satisfied he withdrew his hand, bringing his slick fingers to your mouth.
"Open." He ordered and when you did, he shoved them inside to coat your tongue with your own taste. "Suck. Taste how wet you are for your mate."
You obeyed, hollowing your cheeks around his digits, eyes locked on his as you swirled your tongue and the salty tang made you hum in delight.
"Good girl." He praised, pulling them free with a pop before grabbing your jaw to tilt your head back. He hawked up spit, letting it drip from his lips onto your waiting tongue, the warm glob landing heavy before he clamped your mouth shut. "Swallow. Every drop from me marks you inside out."
You did, throat working visibly, the act sending a filthy thrill through you as your pussy clenched emptily.
He shifted then, lining up his cock with your entrance, the broad head nudging your folds apart and smearing your cream along his length.
"Gonna fuck you dumb, baby." He warned, voice a feral snarl as he snapped his hips forward burying half his length in one brutal thrust.
You cried out as your walls stretching around his girth, the burn exquisite as he filled you inch by inch, your body yielding to him like it was made for this. Your golden markings flaring bright across your heaving chest and quivering belly.
"Fuck, so tight." He groaned bottoming out with a grind that pressed his pelvis against your clit, his balls slapping heavy against your ass. He held there letting you adjust but his control was fraying, his hips twitching as he watched your face contort in pleasure and your lilac eyes glazing over. "Feel that? That's me owning you. Deeper than Neteyam ever could, thicker than Lo'ak could dream."
You nodded frantically, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, heels digging into his back. "Yes harder, Jake. Fuck me like you hate them for touching me."
The desperation in your voice spurred him and he pulled back slowly, the drag of his cock against your walls making obscene sucking sounds before slamming back in, setting a punishing rhythm that rocked the mat beneath you. Each thrust was deliberate, unhurried at first and building the heat as he angled to hit that deep spot inside you, your pussy frothing around his base with every plunge. The white cream bubbling up to coat his shaft and drip down your thighs.
"Look at this mess." He panted glancing down where you joined, his hand pressing on your lower belly to feel the bulge forming with every hilt-deep stroke, the outline of his cock visible under your skin and distending your abdomen. "See that? That's my dick reshaping you, baby. Gonna breed this womb, fill it till it swells with my kid. No room for anyone else's claim."
The pressure on your belly amplified everything and sending you spiraling, thoughts fragmenting as pleasure overwhelmed you.
"Breed me." You begged, voice breaking on a sob as your hands roamed his back, tracing the flex of muscles as he pounded into you. "Make me yours, only yours. I love it when you're like this, so jealous, so... fuck, feral."
He laughed a wild breathless sound, flipping you suddenly onto your stomach without pulling out, his weight blanketing you as he hiked your hips up.
"You love it? Love me ruining you for my own blood?" He thrust deeper from this angle, the new position letting him grind against your g-spot relentlessly and making your marks glow brighter, his hand fisting your white hair to arch your back and exposing your neck for his teeth to sink in.
'Yes gods, yes." You wailed, face pressed into the mat as drool pooled from your open mouth as he fucked you senseless.
Each snap of his hips jolting you forward with your breasts dragging against the rough weave. Your markings blazed like liquid gold across your sweat-slicked skin, pussy clenching rhythmically around him, the froth building to a creamy ring at his base.
"Take it then." He growled releasing your hair to slap your ass sharply, the sting blooming heat that made you keen. He reached around to rub your clit in fast circles, overwhelming you as his pace turned erratic, thrusts shortening but harder chasing his release. "Cum on my cock, baby. Milk me dry so I can pump you full better than those boys ever could. I'm the one who makes you shatter."
The command tipped you over, orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave as your walls spasmed wildly around him, gushing slick that soaked his thighs. You went limp, mind blanking to white-hot bliss and babbling incoherently as he followed seconds later, roaring your name as he buried deep. His cock pulsing to flood your depths with thick ropes of cum. The bulge in your belly swelled fuller, his seed mixing with your cream and some leaking out around his knotting base.
He collapsed over you, both panting, his arms wrapping around your waist in a possessive hold as he nuzzled your shoulder still twitching inside you.
"Mine." He murmured, voice softening just a fraction though the feral edge still lingered. "Always mine."
You hummed boneless and sated, turning your head to catch his lips in a lazy kiss, the taste of sweat and satisfaction lingering at your tongue. The aftershocks of your shared release lingered like the fading rumble of thunder, your bodies entwined in the dim glow of Jake's marui. His massive frame enveloped you from behind, spooning you close on the sleeping mat with the heat of his blue skin seeping into yours like a comforting blaze.
His thick cock remained buried deep within your creamy walls, an insistent presence that stretched you full while plugging his hot seed inside to prevent even a single drop from escaping. Every subtle shift sent a lazy ripple of pleasure through your core, your inner muscles fluttering around him in residual bliss.
Jake's breath evened out against the nape of your neck as he nuzzled into the cascade of your white hair and inhaling its faint wildflower scent. One of his broad hands slid up your side, fingers tracing the sweep of your hip before delving into those silken strands, caressing them with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of moments before. He pulled you tighter against him, your back molding to the hard planes of his torso while his beefy arms caged you in a protective embrace that felt like an unbreakable vow.
You sighed contentedly, your body lax and glowing, golden markings dimming to a soft shimmer along your shoulders and the curve of your spine. Idly, your fingers danced over the scarred expanse of his chest to trace the raised ridges of old wounds and the firm ridges of his pecs, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath your touch. The pudge of his lower belly pressed warmly against your body as a soft reminder of his form's subtle vulnerabilities amid all that power.
"What are your plans, Jake?" You murmured, your voice husky from cries and whispers as you tilted your head slightly to glimpse his profile in the low light.
He paused, his golden eyes drifting to the open space of the marui. To the simple hammock swaying gently, the scattered tools of a warrior's life, and the distant crash of waves beyond the entrance. His gaze softened with a mix of resolve and quiet longing.
"Win the war." He said, tone firm yet laced with weary determination, his thumb continuing its soothing strokes through your hair. "Save everybody I can. Make a family with you."
A soft hum escaped your lips, vibrating through your chest as you nestled deeper into him and savoring the weight of his words.
"What about your first family then?" You asked gently, your fingers pausing on a particularly deep scar near his collarbone.
His arms tightened around you instinctively, biceps flexing like iron bands as he pulled you so close that not even air separated your forms.
"They're still my kids." He replied, voice rough with paternal love and a hint of guilt threading through it. "Even if they forgive me or not, that bond doesn't break."
"And Neytiri?" You pressed softly, your hand resuming its lazy exploration and now gliding down to squeeze the softness of his tummy in a playful affection in the gesture.
He exhaled slowly, the sound rumbling against your ear.
"She is their mother." He said matter-of-factly but edged with finality, his free hand covering yours on his abdomen to hold it there. "But that's the line it draws."
You hummed again satisfied, a sleepy smile curving your lips as exhaustion tugged at your eyelids making your lilac eyes heavy-lidded and content. The simple act of squeezing his tummy drew a low chuckle from him as his body relaxed further around yours.
Silence settled then, comfortable and profound, broken only by the rhythmic lap of ocean against the reef outside. Jake's hand stilled in your hair and after a long moment, he shifted slightly as his fingers moving to the base of his kuru. He toyed with the neural tendrils there in a vulnerable gesture that made your heart ache with tenderness.
"Tsaheylu?" He asked quietly, voice almost uncharacteristically hesitant while his golden eyes searched yours when you turned your head to meet his gaze.
You nodded without hesitation, the motion sending a fresh twinge of awareness through where he was still sheathed inside you.
"Yes." You smiled as you reached back to grasp your own kuru, the sensitive tendrils uncoiling like living vines.
"I just want to be closer to you." He confessed, his expression raw and the lines around his eyes deepening with earnest need as he leaned in with his forehead nearly touching yours.
Your smile widened and you pecked his lips in a light chaste brush that promised more before guiding your kurus together. The connection snapped into place with a faint electric hum, Eywa's essence weaving your essences as one. Instantly, his emotions flooded you. The fierce all-consuming love he held for you, a bonfire that warmed every corner of your being. The sharp sting of guilt over the web of lies he'd spun for so long. The exhilarating freedom and lightness that had bloomed since the truth shattered the illusions like shedding a too-tight skin. The gnawing fear of the encroaching war with shadows of uncertainty over your safety and his own along with battles yet to come that could claim everything. The bitter twist of jealousy and hurt at the thought of you tangled with Neteyam and Lo'ak, his own blood staking claims on what he saw as his alone. And beneath it all, a quiet forgiveness he'd granted you without demand, an acceptance that eased the fractures in his soul.
You poured your affections back through the bond in return with waves of unwavering devotion, the joy he ignited in you, the fierce protectiveness you felt for him amid the chaos, your own fears mirrored but softened by the strength you drew from him. It was a silent conversation of hearts, deeper than words and binding you in ways flesh alone could never achieve.
"I see you, baby." He murmured, his voice thick with emotion as a genuine smile break across his face.
It was rare and radiant, crinkling the corners of his eyes as he captured your lips in a deep lingering kiss. The press of his mouth was tender yet insistent, tongue tracing the seam of yours before delving in, sharing breaths and the subtle salt of sweat. The intimacy of the bond amplified everything and as his lips moved against yours, your walls clenched involuntarily around his cock in a reflexive squeeze that milked him gently, drawing a shared gasp into the kiss.
"I see you, Jake Sully." You replied breathlessly when he pulled back just enough, your voice a sultry affirmation while your eyes locked on his with sparkling intensity and coyness.
He hissed sharply through his teeth, the sound primal and aroused as his hips twitched forward in response. The movement stirred him inside you, his thick length sloshing through the creamy mix of your releases. The lewd wet sounds filling the air as he began to grind slowly and deliberately. Each roll of his pelvis pressed him deeper, the friction reigniting sparks along your nerves, your giggle bubbling up amidst a soft moan that escaped unbidden.
"Fuck, baby." He groaned against your shoulder nipping at the skin there as his hand slid down to grip your thigh and hitching your leg higher to angle himself better.
The bond thrummed with his rising desire and feeding yours in an endless loop, promising no quick end to the night. You arched back into him, your free hand reaching to tangle in his dreads, urging him on with a whimper.
"Don't stop." You breathed, the words half-laugh and half-plea as pleasure coiled anew in your belly.
He didn't.
His grinds turning firmer, the slap of skin on skin resuming in a unhurried rhythm as the marui echoed with your shared moans and the intimate symphony of bodies reconnecting. The war, the family, the uncertainties, they faded into the background, leaving only this. You and him bound in every way as the night stretched endlessly before you.
This will be a long night.
Lo'ak sat cross-legged on a smooth sun-warmed rock, his frame hunched slightly while his tail flicked idly against the damp sand. His golden eyes stared out at the gentle waves lapping the shore but his mind wandered far from the serene beauty of the spot he once cherished.
Last night replayed in fragments of the empty space in their family marui where his father should have been. The way his Mom's sharp gaze had avoided his questions while her eyelids were puffy and rimmed with the subtle redness of unshed tears. Neteyam had slipped in hours after dark, his usual steady demeanor cracked just enough for Lo'ak to notice the tension in his brother's shoulders.
Only he, Kiri with her quiet weaving, little Tuk curled up in her hammock, and Spider chattering about fishing had filled the silence. No one dared to voice the growing rift nor the unspoken fears gnawing at their bonds.
Now here he was with Tsireya, pulled to this secluded nook by her insistent tug on his arm earlier that morning. The cove with its sheltered lagoon and soft coral benches had been their private haven before, a place for stolen laughs and tentative touches. But nothing felt right anymore, not since you had arrived like a storm on the horizon, your presence unraveling the threads of his affections and wrapping them tightly around your form.
Tsireya had mentioned gathering heavy nets for the evening's fishing haul when she asked for his help earlier, her voice bright with forced cheer and yet as they settled, no nets were in sight. There were no tasks to distract from the weight between them. Just the two of them sitting in companionable quiet that now stretched taut like an overstrung bow.
Lo'ak turned his head, appraising her with a gaze that once burned with youthful hunger that has now diluted into reluctance.
When his family first washed ashore in Awa'atlu, Tsireya had captivated him instantly. Her skin a rich oceanic teal that shimmered under the sun that has been so different to the usual deep azure of the Omatikaya. Those wide expressive eyes the color of shallow reefs and framed by loose curls that bounced with every graceful movement. She embodied the Metkayina's fluid elegance, her curves honed by years of diving and weaving through currents. But today, as she sat beside him with her knees drawn up and arms hugging them loosely, all that allure faded into shadow.
It paled against the vivid memory of you. The ethereal cascade of your white hair catching the light like fresh snow on volcanic rock, the subtle sheen of your light gray skin etched with those mesmerizing golden markings that seemed to pulse with hidden fire, and your lilac eyes that were deep enigmatic pools that pulled him under without mercy.
He sighed heavily, the sound carrying a note of resignation, and pushed to his feet as he brushed sand from his thighs.
"Where are the nets, Reya?" He asked, voice low and edged with distraction, his broad shoulders rolling as if shaking off an invisible burden.
Tsireya's lips curved into a soft smile with her teeth grazing her lower lip in a gesture that revealed the faint dimples bracketing her mouth, a feature he'd once found endlessly endearing. She rose fluidly, her movements a dance of practiced poise as the beads of her top clinked softly against her collarbone.
"There are no nets, Lo'ak." She admitted, her tone light but laced with a hopeful vulnerability as her teal eyes searched his face. "I just want to spend time with you... like we used to always do."
The words hung in the humid air heavy with implication, one that he recognized.
Before you had entered his world, he and Tsireya had ventured into uncharted territories of intimacy. Nights in this very cove where hands explored with tentative curiosity and mouths tasting salt-kissed skin. Her soft gasps echoing as he knelt between her thighs or hers drawing shudders from him with eager lips. No full joining yet but the lewd discoveries had bound them in shared secrets with their bodies bared under the stars.
All that had withered like kelp in a drought since your arrival. Your laugh, your scent, and your touch eclipsing everything else.
Before he could respond, Tsireya closed the distance. Her slender legs straddling his hips as she plopped onto his lap with familiar ease. Lo'ak stiffened beneath her, his muscles coiling like a spring as his hands hovered awkwardly at his sides instead of settling on the dip of her waist or the swell of her hips as they once did. Her warmth pressed against him through the thin barrier of their loincloths but it stirred nothing beyond a flicker of guilt.
"You've been so distant, Lo'ak." She murmured, her voice trembling with quiet hurt as her fingers traced the stripes along his arm. "Do you... not like me anymore?"
Her wide and pleading eyes locked onto his, her curls framing her face thatâs tousled by the breeze. His jaw clenched, the sharp line of it tightening under his skin as a storm brewed behind his eyes.
Yes, I think I don't anymore, not like that.
The truth clawed at his throat but he swallowed it down, bitter and choking. With the war's shadow lengthening over the reefs and alliances fragile as sea glass, he couldn't shatter this one. Not when his family needed every thread of support.
"I just worry a lot for the war." He said instead, his tone measured and evading the core of her plea. "For my family."
He shifted slightly, creating a fraction more space without dislodging her. Tsireya's forehead furrowed, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features but she leaned in closer with her breath warm against his cheek.
"Can we kiss?" She whispered, the request soft and almost desperate as her hands cupped his face with gentle insistence.
Lo'ak's stomach twisted. He didn't want this, not with her, not when every fiber of his being yearned for you. But her suspicion could unravel everything, it's better to placate than provoke for now.
"A peck." He conceded reluctantly, his voice gruff as his golden eyes flicked away.
She frowned with the expression pulling at her full lips but nodded as she closed the gap with a sigh of longing. Her mouth met his in a brief chaste press. She missed the taste of him, the way his lips yielded just so.
Lo'ak closed his eyes so he can force the image of your face to superimpose over hers with the curve of your smile and the spark in your lilac gaze. But Tsireya emboldened by the contact had deepened it, her tongue slipping past his defenses with a soft hum vibrating from her throat.
He grunted in surprise, the sound muffled against her as his body tensed further. Instinctively, his hands rose with one to her shoulder as his fingers splayed over the smooth teal expanse while the other to her hip, gripping the firm curve there to ease her back gently, to break the kiss with careful pressure.
"Oh, sorry." Came a voice from the shadows of the overhanging palms, it was light and laced with feigned politeness.
Lo'ak's heart slammed against his ribs like a war drum as he shoved Tsireya off his lap with more force than intended. She yelped stumbling back onto the sand, her curls whipping as she caught herself. He surged to his feet with his tail lashing, eyes locking onto you standing at the cove's entrance.
Your form silhouetted against the brighter waters beyond. Your white hair unbound and stirring in the breeze like silken threads of moonlight and your gray skin glowing with an inner luminescence that made the sunlight seem dull by comparison. You tilted your head, the motion graceful and deliberate with a mask of apology softening your features while your lilac eyes remained inscrutable as it deliberately skimmed over Tsireya's disheveled state without once meeting his desperate gaze.
"I didn't mean to interrupt." You said, voice smooth as polished shell though a subtle edge lingered beneath. "I thought no one was here. I'll go."
Tsireya straightened as she brushed sand from her thighs, a flicker of annoyance tightening her jaw before she schooled it into a polite smile.
"It's okay, Swok 'Awpo." She replied evenly, the term slipping out with a hint of underlying sharpness like you were an outsider, a reminder of your foreign roots amid this reef-born world.
You paused just long enough to flash her a smile, warm and disarming but angled it so Lo'ak caught the full view of your indifference toward him. Your eyes averted and posture poised as if he were mere scenery. Then you were gone, footsteps light on the path leading back to the village leaving the air thick with unspoken accusations.
Lo'ak's chest constricted as a vise of regret squeezed his heart.
Fuck, she must have think I'm willingly kissing Tsireya.
He thought with panic rising like bile. He watched your retreating figure until the foliage swallowed you then whipped back to Tsireya who was still dusting off her arms and her dimples vanished into a pout.
"I think we should go." He said abruptly, his voice clipped with urgency. "Our parents are probably looking for us."
Tsireya's eyes widened with hurt flashing across her face like a shadow over water.
"It's still earlyâ" She protested reaching for his hand, her fingers brushing his knuckles.
"And I promised Tuk I would learn to braid her hair." He cut in already stepping back, his mind fixed on the path you'd taken. "I have to go!"
Without waiting for her reply he bolted, his long legs carrying him over roots and stones. The cove's tranquility shattering behind him as he raced after you, heart pounding with the need to explain and to bridge the chasm his hesitation had carved.
Your form moved with purposeful grace through the winding paths of Awa'atlu. The village's woven platforms creaking softly under your bare feet as you wove between clusters of maruis suspended like giant nests above the lagoon.
The sun climbed higher turning the water into a mirror of azure and gold but your mind churned with the image of Lo'ak entangled with Tsireya. His hands on her, her lips claiming his. It surprisingly stung a sharp twist in your chest yet beneath it simmered a thrill, the knowledge that you held the reins to his desires. A power that made your lilac eyes gleam with quiet calculation.
You slipped through the beaded curtain of your private marui. Pretty shells of iridescent spirals and ridged conches gathered from the tide pools clinked gently in the woven basket slung over your arm as you approached the low table at the center, their hues catching the light like captured stars.
Urgent footsteps pounded behind you and Lo'ak burst through the entrance just as the beads rattled back into place. His chest heaved from the sprint, broad shoulders rising and falling beneath the striped blue of his skin along with the sweat glistening over the sharp ridges of his collarbone.
"Baby, wait." He called, voice rough with desperation as his golden eyes locked onto your back like a hunter sighting prey.
You didn't turn, feigning absorption in arranging the shells. Your fingers tracing the smooth curves of a particularly luminous abalone. The detachment was a mask thatâs cool and composed, hiding the flicker of satisfaction within you at his pursuit.
"Baby." He repeated stepping closer, the warmth of his body radiating against your space as his tail curled tentatively behind him.
"Mhm?" You murmured, voice light and noncommittal as you placed another shell with deliberate care, the soft clack echoing in the intimate confines.
"It wasn't what it looks like." Lo'ak insisted, his tone laced with urgency with hands flexing at his sides as if aching to reach for you.
He closed the distance, stopping just short while his scent of earthy musk mingled with ocean brine enveloped you.
Finally, you pivoted to face him, your white hair cascading in loose waves over one shoulder framing the delicate angles of your face. Your gray skin shimmered faintly in the marui's glow, the golden markings tracing sinuous paths from your temples down your neck and disappearing into the skimpy beaded top that barely concealed the swell of your breasts. Lilac eyes met his, cool and distant, though inside you fought the urge to smirk at his flustered state.
"Why are you explaining to me?" You asked, your voice a silken thread of indifference. "I am the other woman after all."
Lo'ak's ears flattened slightly, a wince crossing his features while the fine lines of his face tightened with regret. He raked a hand through his braids, the beads clicking softly as he exhaled sharply.
"Baby, no. Tsireya... she said she needed help carrying some heavy nets back from the outer reefs. That's why I went with her to the cove. But when we got there, there were no nets anywhere. It was just a ploy, said she missed me." His words tumbled out, earnest and hurried, golden eyes pleading as they searched your face. "I didn't want to make her suspicious, not with everything going on and the alliances. So when she asked for a kiss, I told her just a peck and nothing more. But all I could think about was you, baby. Your lips, your taste. I was imagining it was you the whole time."
He paused, jaw working as frustration etched deeper lines around his mouth.
"Then she... she deepened it. Pushed for more and I was shoving her off. That's exactly when you walked in. I swear I didn't want that. Not with her. Not anymore."
You hummed softly, a low vibration in your throat as you turned back to the shells but letting your posture soften just a fraction. Deep down you knew the truth. His affections for Tsireya had dimmed to embers the moment your paths crossed, your allure was a blaze that consumed him whole. But testing him and drawing out this desperation from him sent a delicious shiver through you.
"It's fine." You said airily, fingers lingering on a pearl-inlaid cowrie. "I have no right to get mad at you anyway."
His heart clenched visibly, a sharp intake of breath making his chest expand while the muscles of his abdomen rippled under his skin. Lo'ak stepped forward to close the gap, his larger frame towering yet gentle as he cupped your chin with callused fingers and tilting your face up to meet his gaze.
"No baby, listen to me." He murmured, voice dropping to a husky timbre and thick with emotion while his thumbs brushed the soft underside of your jaw. "It's you I want from the second I saw you. She doesn't even come close. You have become everything now. My heart, my thoughts, my every damn breath. You have every right to me because I'm yours completely. No one else's."
His eyes burned with unfiltered sincerity, the golden depths swirling with a vulnerability that made your pulse quicken.
The words hung between you charged and raw. Before you could respond, he leaned in capturing your lips in a kiss that started tender but ignited with need. His mouth moved firmly against yours, tasting of salt and longing, while his free hand settled at the small of your back to pull you flush against the hard planes of his body.
You kissed him back relishing the surge of power. The way the Sully men unraveled for you, Jake's ferocity, Neteyam's protectiveness, and now Lo'ak's shameless devotion. They were all strong threads in your web. Your hands slid up his arms, your nails grazing the taut biceps that draw a low groan from him as your tongues tangled in a slow exploratory dance.
He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips with ragged breaths. "I'm sorry baby. I hate that you even had to see that."
You pecked his lips lightly in a teasing brush that made his eyelids flutter, your lilac eyes sparkling with mischief now that the mask had slipped.
"It's okay, Lo." You replied softly, voice laced with affection as your fingers threaded into his braids to tug him closer.
Lo'ak's face split into a grin, relief flooding his features like sunlight breaking through clouds. His ears perking up as he nuzzled his nose against yours in an eskimo kiss, an intimacy that spoke of tenderness.
"Eywa, you're too good to me." He breathed, voice turning playful while his hands roamed your waist. His thumbs circling the golden markings there with feather-light touches that sent sparks across your skin. "You know, I was running after you like a skxawng, my heart pounding harder than during a hunt. All I could think was 'What if she thinks I'm some idiot who's playing with her feelings?' But you're here hearing me out now and... Eywa, my feelings for you are too much that it hurts sometimes."
He punctuated the confession with a series of quick kisses. First your forehead then the tip of your nose then down to the corner of your mouth. Each one accompanied by an exaggerated smooch that made you giggle, the sound bubbling up light and genuine from your chest.
You laughed as the melody filled the marui, your body relaxing into his hold as you playfully shoved at his shoulder and feeling the solid warmth of him.
"Lo'ak, you're ridiculous." You teased but your eyes danced with delight, your white hair swaying as you tilted your head back to meet his gaze.
"Ridiculous? Nah, just head over heels for the most beautiful woman in all of Pandora." He shot back unashamed, his grin widening to reveal the sharp tips of his fangs.
He scooped you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carried you toward the woven sleeping mat in the corner, your shells forgotten on the table. Laying you down with care, he hovered above propped on his elbows, his braids falling like a curtain around your faces.
"Look at you, those lilac eyes that pulls me in deeper than any ocean current. Your skin so soft and glowing like you're made from moonlight. Tsireya? She doesn't make my tail twitch just by walking into my space. Doesn't make me dream of futures where it's just us with a big family. Itâs you, only you." His voice dipped lower, sincerity pouring out as he traced a finger along your collarbone and dipping into the valley between your breasts making your breath hitch.
Another giggle escaped you, your hands cupping his face while your thumbs stroked the high cheekbones that gave him such a roguish charm.
"You're such a sap, Lo. What happened to the tough warrior who dives with rogue tulkuns like it's nothing?" You arched up slightly to press a kiss to his jaw.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and vibrating against you as he rolled to his side, pulling you with him so your bodies aligned. Legs tangling with his thigh slipping between yours in a casual intimacy.
"Tough warrior? Pfft, only when it comes to protecting what's mine. And you? You're mine." He winked then grew serious for a beat, his hand splaying possessively over your hip while his fingers kneaded the firm flesh there. "But seriously baby, I don't care about the war or the drama. With you, I feel like I could conquer anything. You're my tĂŹftangâmy light. And I want everyone to know it as soon as this storm passes."
Your laughter softened into a contented hum, the power dynamic shifting into something warmer and more mutual as you nestled closer, your head on his shoulder to inhale the unique blend of his scent.
"Flatterer." You murmured but the way your tail curled around his leg betrayed your pleasure.
He continued his barrage of affections, whispering more over-the-top declarations while comparing your smile to the bioluminescent blooms of the reef then vowing to weave you the finest necklace from the rarest pearls. Each one drawing fresh peals of giggles from you, your body shaking with mirth against his.
Lo'ak's eyes never left your face as he drinks in every expression, his love laid bare without a shred of restraint. "See? Can't help it. You're irreplaceable."
And as the afternoon light filtered through the marui's gaps, you lost yourselves in this bubble of romance with the younger Sully, the outside world's tensions fading if only for a stolen moment.
You and Lo'ak remained entwined on the sleeping mat, your bodies a comfortable tangle of limbs. His arm draped possessively over your waist while your fingers idly traced the intricate patterns of scars on his forearm, they were marks from skirmishes and dives that told stories of his reckless bravery. The air between you hummed with a newfound ease, the earlier tension dissolved into this sweet lingering intimacy where every shared breath felt like a promise.
"Tell me more about that hunt last week." You prompted softly, your voice a gentle lilt as you propped yourself up on one elbow, your white hair spilling like a silken veil across the woven fibers beneath you.
Your lilac eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity, catching the fading daylight that danced across your gray skin.
Lo'ak's golden gaze met yours, a lazy smile curving his lips. He shifted closer, his thigh brushing against yours in a casual caress, the heat of his body a comforting anchor.
"Ah, that one? The ilu pod was tricky, the currents pulling us every which way. But I nailed the dive and speared the biggest one right through the gill. Felt like a hero for a second." His tone was light and infused with that boyish pride but his hand never stopped its slow journey along your side, his thumb grazing the dip of your waist with reverent touches.
You chuckled, the sound low and melodic, your free hand reaching up to toy with one of his braids.
"A brave warrior always charging in. But what if I told you I like the stories where you come back in one piece more?" Your words carried a teasing edge yet underneath lay a thread of sincere worry for he has always been the reckless one, your tail flicking lazily to curl around his calf.
He laughed a deep rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest and into yours as he pulled you tighter against him.
"Can't promise perfection baby but for you? Iâd try. You're worth every risk." His expression turned earnest, eyes searching yours as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your temple with his breath warm against your skin. "Besides, thinking of you waiting here... that's what keeps me sharp out there."
The conversation flowed effortless and deepening with each exchange. You shared tales of your own scouting flights and the thrill of soaring above the reefs while he confessed quieter dreams. A life beyond the war, perhaps a marui of your own overlooking a hidden cove that's filled with laughter and the patter of future kids that looks exactly like the both of you.
"I'd teach them to dive like me." He murmured at one point, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he nuzzled your neck, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear. "And you'd show them how to read the stars, my pretty navigator."
You smiled against his shoulder, your body melting further into his embrace, the golden markings on your arms seeming to glow faintly in the encroaching twilight.
"Only if you promise not to let them get into half the trouble you do." You replied with your tone playful, fingers now weaving through his hair to massage his scalp and eliciting a contented groan from him.
As the sky outside darkened to a velvet indigo with stars pricking through like scattered jewels, Lo'ak glanced toward the entrance with a reluctant sigh escaping him. The marui's interior now pulsed with the soft blue luminescence of the vines, casting ethereal shadows over your forms.
"Night's falling fast." He said, his voice tinged with regret as he propped himself up to gaze down at you, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the glow. "I should head back before my mother starts wondering. Don't want her sending out a search party and beat my ass."
You nodded, though your hand lingered on his chest to feel the steady thrum of his heart beneath your palm. You could really careless about Neytiri but you know sheâs his mother and he was still unaware of the truths laid bare.
"Mhm, come back soon?" Your lilac eyes held his, your lips curving into a soft inviting smile.
He grinned, that shameless lovesick expression lighting up his face as he cupped your cheek.
"Like I'd stay away. You're my favorite place to be." Leaning down, he captured your lips in a slow tender smooch. Nothing rushed, just a deep press that conveyed all the sweetness of the hours spent together. His tongue flicking lightly against yours before he pulled back with a final playful nip. "Sleep well, baby. Dream of me."
With one last lingering look he rose, his muscles flexing under his skin as he straightened while his tail swished in evident satisfaction. You watched him slip through the beaded curtain, the beads clattering softly in his wake and leaving you with the warmth of his touch still imprinted on your skin.
The youngest Sully man, always so eager to please.
Lo'ak's steps were light and buoyant as he navigated the village paths, the night air cool against his flushed skin, and carrying the faint scent of blooming night flowers from the surrounding mangroves.
His heart felt full and unburdened for the first time in days. The sting of the earlier misunderstanding with Tsireya erased by your forgiveness and the intoxicating pull of your presence. The waters below shimmered under the moon's silver gaze and the ikran calls echoing distantly from the cliffs but his mind replayed your giggles to your touches, a grin plastered across his face that he made no effort to hide.
As he approached the cluster of family maruis while the woven platforms creaked under his weight, he spotted Neteyam seated cross-legged outside their shared home. His elder brother's focus was intent on a delicate task. His long fingers, steady and precise, threaded shimmering beads and polished shells onto a slender cord of woven vines. The necklace caught the moonlight, its pieces were tiny, iridescent fragments from deep-sea clams gleaming like captured starlight.
Lo'ak's grin widened into something mischievous, he knew that craftsmanship all too well from their Omatikaya days. Sliding down beside him with a playful bump to his shoulder, Lo'ak leaned in close. "Is that a courting gift I see?"
Neteyam didn't look up immediately but a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. He rolled his eyes, the golden irises flickering with mild exasperation as he elbowed Lo'ak's ribs, not hard but enough to jostle him.
"Shut up, skxawng." He muttered, voice low and gruff though laced with the easy familiarity of brothers.
His braids neatly bound had swayed slightly as he continued his work, the muscles in his forearms corded with concentration along with his veins standing out against the deep blue of his skin.
Lo'ak chuckled undeterred, stretching out his legs and propping himself on his elbows, the warmth of the platform seeping into his back.
This was uncharted territory, Neteyam the golden child, the perfect son who always put duty first, now crafting something so personal and so vulnerable. It was the first time Lo'ak had ever seen his brother show real interest in courting beyond the polite nods to clan traditions. The realization sparked a relentless curiosity in him, the words bubbling up like foam on a wave.
"Come on, bro, spill. Who's the lucky Metkayina lady? You've been all secretive lately, sneaking off and coming back with that dopey look on your face." He poked Neteyam's arm and grinned wider, his tail thumping rhythmically against the platform.
Neteyam's hands paused for a fraction of a second, his jaw setting in a subtle line before he resumed threading a particularly intricate shell with the cord whispering through his fingers.
"She's not a Metkayina." He said simply, his tone even but with an undercurrent of something deeper.
The words hung in the humid night air, broken only by the distant lap of waves against the pilings.
Lo'ak's brow furrowed, confusion knitting his features as he sat up straighter, his ears tilting forward in puzzlement.
Not a Metkayina?
The village was a tight-knit reef of alliances, mostly locals weaving in the newcomers. His mind raced through the possibilities, their family were the only Omatikaya here. Then it hit him like a sudden riptide, the only other woman who stood out and not bound by Metkayina blood was the ZĂ€'raiya woman with that ethereal grace and lilac gaze that haunted his every thought.
Oh wait, fuckâis my brother courting (Y/N)?
The realization crashed over him, stealing the playfulness from his expression while his golden eyes widened as the pieces slammed into place.
Neteyam glanced sideways with a sharp smirk tugging at his lips, the kind that spoke of secrets long held. He didn't say a word, just let the silence stretch while watching Lo'ak's face cycle through shock to dawning comprehension. The elder brother's posture relaxed but alert like a hunter sensing the shift in the wind.
Lo'ak swallowed hard, his voice emerging strained and almost accusatory. "You're courting (Y/N)?"
The name felt heavy on his tongue, laced with a mix of betrayal and disbelief with his chest tightening as if an invisible weight pressed down on him.
"Yes." Neteyam confirmed with his voice steady, his eyes locking onto Lo'ak's with certainty.
He set the half-finished necklace aside turning fully to face his brother, the moonlight carving shadows across the strong planes of his face and emphasizing the quiet intensity that always set him apart.
The admission landed like a blow as Lo'ak's heart twisting in his ribcage as if trampled by a thanator's paws. He'd been navigating this secret competition with Ao'nung in the shadows knowing Ao'nung was the one openly courting you. He has been stealing moments with you amid the chaos of war preparations and Tsireyaâs eyes, convincing himself he could win you over with his fire and persistence.
But now?
His eldest brother, the one everybody always praised, the flawless warrior, the one who got everything right is now entering the fray? It amplified every insecurity Lo'ak buried deep as the "lesser" son and the troublemaker forever chasing approval. His tail stilled before curling tightly against his side and he forced a wry smile that didn't reach his eyes, the expression brittle on his lips.
Lo'ak's voice turned flat and devoid of its earlier levity, each word clipped like a blade's edge. "Ao'nung is also courting her, is he not?"
He watched Neteyam's reaction closely, the question probing like a spear tip and stirring the undercurrents of rivalry he knew simmered in them all.
Neteyam's jaw tightened visibly, the muscle feathering under his skin as a flicker of irritation crossed his features. His father's shadow and Ao'nung's bold claims were thorns in his side, they were competitions he met with steely determination rather than open admission.
"Mhm." He affirmed curtly, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as his smirk faded into a more guarded expression with his shoulders tensing slightly.
Lo'ak's wry smile deepened though it carried a bitter edge now, his hands clenching into loose fists on his thighs. The night seemed to close in around them with the village sounds fading to a hush and leaving only the brothers' tense breathing.
"He's not your only competition, brother." Lo'ak said, the words deliberate and laced with a challenge that surprised even him, his heart pounding with the recklessness of laying his cards bare.
Neteyam blinked with confusion etching lines across his forehead and ears flicking back in bewilderment. "Huh?"
The single syllable hung heavy, his mind leaping to darker secrets.
Did Lo'ak know about Dad's forbidden bond with her?
The thought sent a jolt through him, his body tensing and ready to deflect or confront whatever bombshell was coming.
But Lo'ak's revelation veered in an entirely unexpected direction, one that blindsided Neteyam completely. Rising fluidly to his feet, Lo'ak patted his brother's shoulder, the gesture almost brotherly but firm, underscoring the shift in their dynamic. His golden eyes burned with an unyielding cold resolve, the earlier happiness from your marui now forged into something sharper and more desperate.
"You're also competing with me." He declared with his voice low and intense before turning on his heel to stride into the marui without another word.
The beaded curtain swinging shut behind him like a final punctuation.
Neteyam sat frozen for a long moment, the necklace forgotten in his lap and the weight of Lo'ak's words sinking in like stones into deep water. The night air felt thicker and charged with unspoken rivalries as the brothers' fragile unity cracked under the strain of shared desire.
He then let out a wry chuckle as he shook his head and stare at the necklace he was making.
"But isn't he with Tsireya? Truly like father, like son. Both filthy liars."
after i finish the iâm your dream girl but youâre not my type series, i have lots of ideas for other fics and i think i also want to start writing for these beautiful women like neytiri, ronal, varang, tsireya, etc.
i have this idea for the sully men fic where their clan is dark (kinda like mangkwans) and their ikinimaya is hunting down women they want to mate with.
women they hunt down in the forest could be from their own clan (women in the clan will pass their ikinimaya by outrunning the men and not being captured. as their prize, they can mate with the man they truly want but if they are captured, they have no choice but to yield to the man who captured them)
but if itâs from other clans, they will be like prizes of war or raids for them. the strongest men (the oloâeyktan, the leaderâs sons, the strongest warriors and hunters) gets to hunt first. once they get their women they parade her infront of the entire clan as the other lower rank men set out for the other women left. if more than one man set their sights on one girl then they have to fight to death for her.
uhhhh i think a fic about primal play w dilf!jake uhhhhh i thinkkk⊠i #needthat
+++ @blv3rd also asked for a gun play request so iâll just mix the two up
pretty little prey
parings: jake sully x mangkwan female reader
notes: dark jake sully, dilf jake, reader is varangâs innocent younger sister, jake hunts reader down, betrayal, age gap, jake carries a rifle with that sexy vest and his loincloth on. smut, themes of noncon & dubcon, gun play, p in v sex, breeding, size kink, jake has a monster cock, tummy bulge, reader being fucked dumb and crying, spitting, pussy sniffing, filthy porn with plot trust me.
word count: 6k
prompt: cladded in his old vest and rifle as he walks the forest, jake is on the hunt for varangâs innocent younger sister, the pretty little thing who caught his eye.
main masterlist | jake sullyâs masterlist
credits to the gif owner
The dense canopy of the forest near Mangkwan clan territory filters the sunlight into scattered beams, casting dappled patterns on the undergrowth. You've always found solace in these woods, away from the stern gazes of your people and the weight of their alliances.
The Mangkwan have grown harsh under the shadow of their new partnerships with the RDA and that sky demon Miles Quaritch but you remain untouched by it all. As Varang's younger sister, you've been cocooned in her fierce protection, her role as Tsahik demanding she shield you from the clan's darker pursuits. She fusses over you like a mother hen, insisting you're too delicate, too pure for the raids or the dealings with those metal invaders.
Today, she's distracted with clan matters and Quaritch, leaving you to wander unsupervised for once. Earlier, as you stood near the clan's central gathering spot, Varang's hands smoothed your hair with urgent care.
"Stay close, little tsmuke." She'd murmured, her voice laced with alertness, eyes scanning the horizon as if enemies lurked in every shadow.
You nodded, your wide eyes reflecting the innocence she cherishes so much.
Your skin, a soft azure hue untainted by the ash soot that covers your sister and people's body, contrasting with the scarred battle-hardened bodies of theirs. Delicate freckles of lighter blue dot your cheeks and your long braids cascade down your back, adorned with simple feathers that sway gently with your movements. You're clad in a thin loincloth and a beaded top that hugs your slender frame, accentuating the gentle curve of your hips and the untouched bloom of your breasts, full and pert, rising with each breath.
Unseen in the treeline, Jake watches.
He's been trailing the Mangkwan since their raid on his allies, the sting of the attack fresh after they sided with the RDA and Quaritch against him. Clad in a scavenged vest that clings to his broad muscled chest, exposing the scars of old battles and his traditional loincloth that barely contains the powerful thighs beneath, he grips a gun salvaged from the ocean's wreckage. Its cold metal is a reminder of the worlds colliding. Jake's eyes, sharp and predatory, scan the camp for intel to relay back to Tonowari.
That's when he spots you.
You're a vision amid the grit. A sweet naive flower in a field of thorns. Unlike the fierce warriors around you, your movements are soft, your laughter light as Varang adjusts your beads.
Jake's gaze lingers, a low heat stirring in his gut.
You're young, beautiful, and untouched. The enemy yet so disarmingly pure. He shifts, adjusting his stance as his cock twitches beneath the cloth. Information first he reminds himself but the sight of you etches into his mind.
Now, alone in the forest, you kneel by a stream, your fingers trailing over smooth, iridescent rocks half-buried in the moss. The water babbles softly and you hum a tune Varang taught you, oblivious to the world. Your loincloth rides up slightly as you bend forward, the thin fabric stretching taut over the plump swell of your ass. The outline of your pussy presses against it, the cleft visible in the dappled light, a tempting crease that makes your heart pound unknowingly with vulnerability.
Jake has followed you, silent as a shadow.
His longer strides keep pace effortlessly, the gun slung low in his grip. He creeps closer until he's behind you, breath steady, muscles coiled like a panther's. The raid's fury fades, now it's primal instinct driving him.
You're the key. Varang's weakness and a prize in your own right.
He kneels behind your bent unknowing form, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from your skin. Leaning in, he inhales deeply, the musky scent of your untouched arousal filling his lungs, it was intoxicating. His cock hardens fully, straining against his loincloth pulsing with need.
Without warning, his tongue darts out, pressing flat against the thin barrier of your cloth. He licks once, slow and deliberate, the fabric dampening instantly from his saliva and your budding wetness. A deep groan rumbles from his chest vibrating against you. The taste seeps through, tangy and pure, like fresh nectar.
You jolt, a gasp escaping your lips as a strange electric tingle shoots through your core. Your body freezes, heart slamming against your ribs.
"Whatâ" You start, voice trembling with confusion and fear, instincts screaming to flee.
But before you can straighten, the cold, unyielding muzzle of a gun presses against your temple. Metal bites into your skin, forcing you still. You recognize it as one of those thunder making weapons Miles had brought to your sister. Panic floods your veins, tears pricking your eyes as you whimper, body rigid in terror.
"Don't move, sweet thing." Jake's voice growls low, rough with desire, his breath hot on your neck.
His free hand steadies the gun, thumb brushing the trigger guard casually as if this is routine. Another sensation hits as his tongue returns, lapping at the cloth again, firmer this time. He hums in approval, the vibration sending shivers up your spine.
"You taste good." He murmurs against you, words muffled but laced with hunger.
You whimper louder, legs quaking beneath you. The gun's pressure keeps you pinned, bent and exposed. With a deft flick, his fingers hook your loincloth aside, the fabric bunching to one side. Cool air kisses your bare skin but it's quickly replaced by his hot breath fanning over your revealed pussy. You feel utterly exposed, your folds parting slightly from the movement, a flush creeping across your blue-tinged cheeks.
Jake's eyes darken as he gazes at you.
Your pussy is a delicate sight. Fat plush outer lips in a pretty cerulean shade, framing the inner folds that glisten faintly. Your swollen clit peeks out, moist from his earlier licks through the cloth and your hole clenches tight, untouched and inviting.
He licks his lips, cock throbbing painfully now.
"Mhm, such a pretty pussy you have." He rumbles, voice thick with lust, admiration edging his tone.
Tears stream down your face, mixing with the dirt on your cheeks. Your voice cracks, innocent confusion warring with fear.
"What are you doing? Who are you?" You plead, body trembling but the gun's chill silences any further protest.
He doesn't answer with words.
Instead, his tongue extends for a long, languid lick from your tight entrance up through your slick folds, collecting the fresh juices that bead there. He hums deeply, savoring the unobstructed flavor, sweet and musky pure essence of you while the gun remains firm at your temple, a constant threat as his other hand grips your thigh holding you open.
Your legs buckle slightly, the direct contact igniting sparks you've never felt. He doesn't stop, his tongue swirls over your clit in tight insistent circles, flicking the sensitive nub with expert pressure. Pleasure coils unbidden in your belly making your thighs shake violently. Bent as you are, your hands dig into the earth for support, light moans slipping past your lips despite the tears.
"No, please." You sob, voice breaking with desperation. "Don't put your tongue there. It feels... wrong."
Jake grunts against your pussy, the sound animalistic, dismissing your plea. His strong hands spread your cheeks wider, exposing you fully to his assault. His tongue delves deeper lapping at your entrance before returning to torment your clit.
You can't help it as wetness gathers, more slick coating his mouth, your body betraying the fear with growing arousal. Each swirl sends jolts through you, your hips twitching involuntarily.
In a surge of adrenaline, you seize the moment. His focus on your core leaves the gun's pressure a fraction looser. You kick backward, heel connecting with his shoulder and shove at the weapon with all your might. It clatters aside as you scramble up, loincloth still askew, your pussy bare and slick against the air. Panic propels you forward as you run, braids whipping behind you, feet pounding the forest floor. Branches snag at your skin but escape is all that matters from this stranger, this enemy with his invasive touch.
Jake chuckles darkly from behind, the sound echoing like a predator's taunt. He watches your form dart away, ass cheeks jiggling with each frantic step, the glimpse of your wet folds flashing as you move. His cock aches harder than ever, pre-cum beading at the tip.
"You running only makes my cock harder for you." He calls out, voice laced with amusement and promise.
He gives you a five-second headstart, counting silently as he rises, gun reclaimed in his grip then he pursues. His longer limbs eat up the distance, powerful legs propelling him through the underbrush with ease.
You're prey now and he savors the hunt, the way your breaths come in gasps, your naive fear fueling his dominance.
You crash through the foliage, heart thundering, lungs burning. The forest blurs around you with vines slapping your arms, leaves crunching underfoot. You spot a thick tree trunk and duck behind it, pressing your back to the bark. Your chest heaves trying to quiet your ragged breathing. Your loincloth hangs crooked but survival overrides any thoughts of modesty. You peek out, scanning for him.
Jake moves like a ghost, gun at the ready, eyes scanning the terrain.
"Come out." He calls, voice deceptively calm, edged with that rough timbre. "You don't have to be scared. I just want to talk."
Lies of course but they hang in the air tempting your hope.
He smirks to himself, senses attuned to your presence. He walks past your hiding spot, footsteps deliberate, brushing close enough that you catch a whiff of his musky scent. Relief washes over you and your muscles uncoil slightly, a shaky breath escaping your mouth.
But then agony and shock as a large hand clamps around your ankle. Rough fingers dig in, yanking you out from behind the tree with brutal efficiency.
Your body skids across the damp forest floor as he yanks you free, moss and leaves clinging to your back like desperate fingers. You land flat on the ground, chest heaving, the world spinning for a heartbeat before your gaze lifts.
Looming above you is a massive Na'vi male, his frame casting a shadow that engulfs you entirely. Broad shoulders strain against the edges of his scavenged vest, the fabric stretched taut over rippling pectorals etched with faint scars from battles long past. His tail sways lazily behind him, a sign of his predatory calm while powerful arms corded with muscle brace on either side of your head.
But it's his face that steals your breath.
Sharp jawline dusted with faint bioluminescent stripes, full lips curled in a wicked grin, and golden eyes burning with unbridled hunger. This is him, the intruder who invaded your most private part with his tongue, who pressed that deadly weapon to your skin as he did it. Handsome in a dangerous way like a storm cloud promising thunder, like someone who would ruin you in the sweetest way.
A whimper bubbles from your throat, raw and frightened as his grin widens, revealing sharp canines that glint in the filtered light.
He slings the gun over his back with casual ease, the strap settling across his chest like an afterthought.
"Thought you could get away from me, hide from me when I can smell your pussy calling to me?" His voice rumbles deep, laced with dark amusement and raw lust, each word dripping like venomous honey. "For a cock to ruin it?"
Terror surges through you and you scramble backward, heels digging into the earth trying to create distance but his massive hand clamps around your wrist, pinning it above your head with effortless strength. The other joins it, securing your other arm, his grip unyielding yet not bruisingâwell, yet. You're trapped beneath his weight, your smaller form dwarfed by his sheer size, heart pounding like a war drum in your ears.
He leans down, his breath warm against your face, carrying the faint tang of the forest and something wilder. His free hand cups your jaw, thumb pressing your lower lip until it parts.
"Open." He commands softly, eyes locked on yours.
Trembling, you obey and he hocks a thick dollop of saliva into your mouth, watching intently as it lands on your tongue. Tears blur your vision spilling hot down your temples but instinct makes you swallow, the salty warmth sliding down your throat.
"Looking so pretty." He murmurs, voice husky with approval, thumb brushing away a tear only to smear it across your cheek. "You're the only good thing your clan has to offer."
Before you can process the words, his mouth crashes onto yours in a messy, devouring kiss. His wide tongue thrusts inside claiming every inch, tangling with yours in a slick dance. He sucks on it greedily, drawing a reluctant moan from deep in your chest, the intrusion overwhelming and invasive yet sparking unwelcome heat low in your belly. Your lips bruise under the pressure but he doesn't relent.
"Stop." You muffle against him, the plea garbled and desperate, pushing weakly at his chest with your bound hands.
He only deepens the kiss, growling into your mouth as his hips shift forward. The hard ridge of his massive cock still confined in his loincloth grinds against your thinly covered pussy, the friction sending jolts through your core. His thighs nudge yours apart wider, forcing your legs to splay open beneath his dominating frame. The cloth between you dampens quickly, your body's betrayal evident in the growing slickness.
With a savage rip he tears your beaded top away, the strands scattering like fleeing insects. Your full breasts bounce free, nipples hardening in the sudden exposure to the air, pert and flushed a deeper blue against your smooth skin.
"Fuck." He breathes, eyes devouring the sight, pupils blown wide with feral need.
You whimper, heat flooding your face in a deep blush, arms instinctively crossing to shield yourself but he pins them down firmer leaving you bare and vulnerable.
His head dips, hot mouth latching onto one breast, tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before sucking hard. Saliva glistens on your soft mounds trailing in shiny paths as he switches to the other, teeth grazing just enough to make you arch. The wet sounds of his mouth fill the air mingling with your shaky breaths.
Reaching back, he grabs the rifle from his shoulder, the metal cool and ominous in his grasp.
While his tongue flicks relentlessly over your nipples alternating between flicks and firm laps, he nudges your loincloth aside once more, exposing your dripping folds to the forest breeze. The blunt muzzle of the gun makes contact with your wet pussy, pressing against the slick entrance, the cold steel a stark contrast to your heated skin.
You whimper at the foreign sensation, a mix of fear and illicit thrill coiling tight in your gut. He bites down on your nipple, a sharp tug that draws a gasp then grins against your skin.
"Shh." He soothes mockingly, voice vibrating through your chest.
The gun's barrel, now slick with your arousal, slides inside your tiny hole inch by unyielding inch. You cry out, back bowing off the ground, the intrusion cold and stretching filling you in a way that's both violating and strangely fulfilling.
"No." You sob with tears fresh on your lashes but your walls clench around the metal, more wetness seeping out to ease the way.
He pistons it slowly at first then with building rhythm, the ridges of the barrel dragging against your inner walls. Each thrust coats it further in your juices, the lewd squelch echoing obscenely.
"Getting wet with my gun fucking your tight pussy?" He taunts, eyes gleaming with triumph watching your face contort.
You whimper, shaking your head frantically, denying the pleasure blooming despite the terror.
But you both know the truth. It feels good, the pressure building an ache that's equal parts shame and ecstasy. His every action screams animalistic intent. The way his muscles flex with each pump, the low growls rumbling from his throat, the unapologetic dominance in how he claims your body as his playground.
Leaning in, he captures your lips again, swallowing your moans as he continues the relentless fucking with the rifle. His tongue mirrors the motion, plunging deep while the metal drives into you, syncing the invasions until your mind blurs. Your thighs start to quake, the coil in your core winding tighter, breaths coming in ragged pants against his mouth. Just as the edge beckons, he stops abruptly, pulling the gun free with a wet pop.
You whimper at the sudden loss, hips bucking involuntarily chasing the friction that's vanished. Your juices cling sticky to the muzzle, glistening in the light as he holds it up, admiring the evidence of your arousal.
He taps the barrel against your swollen lips, smearing the slickness there.
"Open." He orders, voice rough with command.
Hesitant, lips parting on a sob, you obey. He slides the muzzle into your mouth, the metallic tang mixing with your own musky flavor, salty-sweet and filthy in its intimacy. The taste makes you squirm, arousal spiking anew at the degradation, your pussy clenching around nothing.
He grins, a predatory flash of teeth, clearly pleased.
"Good girl." He murmurs deciding you've earned a reward.
Shifting down your body, he buries his face between your thighs like a starving beast, tongue lashing out to devour your pussy. Broad strokes cover every inch from your throbbing clit to your dripping entrance while his hand keeps the gun steady in your mouth, forcing you to suck your essence off it. The dual assault overwhelms you with his mouth hot and insistent along with the cold metal, a constant reminder of his control.
Moans vibrate around the barrel as he eats you out with savage intensity, nose bumping your clit while his lips seal over your folds, sucking greedily. Your juices coat his face dripping down his chin and marking him with your scent. He glances up over the curve of your mound, eyes dilated to black pools of lust, watching you unravel.
You look utterly fucked out with eyes glassy, cheeks streaked with tears and flush, braids splayed wildly across the ground, body arching toward him in desperate need.
His thick tongue spears into your hole then, fucking you with deep curling thrusts that stretch your walls anew. Two fingers join circling your clit in firm rapid strokes, pinching just enough to make stars burst behind your eyelids. The other hand grips the gun's base, pushing it deeper into your mouth, mimicking the penetration below. The rhythm builds mercilessly with his tongue plunging, fingers teasing, and your muffled cries growing frantic.
Your thighs clamp around his head shaking uncontrollably as the orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You squirt hard, hot fluid gushing into his waiting mouth, soaking his tongue and cheeks. He grins against you, lapping up every drop with greedy swallows, humming in satisfaction as your vision whites out, body convulsing in near blackout bliss. Waves of pleasure rip through you leaving you limp and trembling, breaths ragged around the gun.
Finally, he withdraws the muzzle from your mouth with a slick pop, tossing it aside carelessly.
Rising, he looms over you once more, the tent in his loincloth obscene with his huge cock straining the fabric, the outline thick and veined, promising destruction. With a swift motion, he unties the cloth letting it fall away but keeps the vest on, the contrast of civilized remnant against his primal nudity heightening the filth of it all.
His massive cock springs free, hanging heavy between his legs due to its sheer weight. Thicker than your arm, the slit on the flushed head already beading dollops of pre-cum, veins pulse along the length.
You whimper at the sight, eyes widening in true fear.
He's enormous and you're so tiny, your untouched body no match for such a beast.
"Shh, don't look at it." He soothes, voice a low croon edged with command, cupping your chin to tilt your face up. "Look at me."
You obey, locking eyes with him, finding a strange intensity there. The look was possessive, almost tender in its ferocity.
His grin returns satisfied as he positions himself. The fat head of his cock rubs over your swollen clit, slicking itself in your squirted release then dips shallowly into your little hole. Just the tip, testing the give. You gasp at the pressure, wet enough from your climax to ease the way but he knows the sting is coming, your tightness will fight every inch of intrusion from his aching cock.
"Breathe, sweet thing." He murmurs then pushes forward, inch by torturous inch, the stretch burning as your walls yield to his invasion.
You cry out, tears spilling anew, nails digging into his arms as pain blooms alongside the fullness.
He doesn't rush, hips rolling in controlled thrusts until he fully bottoms out, his heavy balls pressing against your ass. His cock pulses inside you, hot and alive, claiming every secret space, the sensation overwhelming as you were stuffed beyond capacity, connected in the most intimate violation. He stills for a moment, forehead resting against yours, breath mingling as he savors the tight grip of your pussy around him.
"That's it." He growls softly, pride and lust thickening his words. "All mine now."
Your body adjusts slowly, the initial sting fading into a deep throbbing ache that hints at more pleasure to come even as sobs hitch in your throat.
He holds there, buried to the hilt, his massive length throbbing deep inside your clenching walls, every pulse sending ripples through your core. Your body trembles beneath him, the stretch an exquisite burn that borders on too much, your small frame quivering as it struggles to accommodate his girth. Tears streak your cheeks, mixing with the sweat beading on your blue skin but beneath the ache, a forbidden warmth spreads, your pussy fluttering around him in tentative welcome.
His golden eyes bore into yours, wild and possessive as if he's memorizing every flicker of your expression then his gaze drops lower, tracing the line of your abdomen.
There it is, a visible bulge, the outline of his cock pressing upward against your inner walls, distorting the soft plane of your belly in a way that's utterly obscene. His breath hitches, a guttural snarl escaping his throat and something primal snaps in him. His pupils blow wide, tail lashing behind like a whip, muscles coiling tighter across his broad back and shoulders.
"Fuck." He rasps, voice raw and edged with madness, one large hand splaying over the swell of your belly. He presses down experimentally, feeling himself through your flesh and the pressure makes you whine, walls squeezing around him involuntarily. "Look at that, my cock's reshaping your pretty little gut. You're takin' me so deep like you were made for this. Made for me to breed."
The sight ignites him fully, feral hunger overtaking any restraint. He pulls back just enough to slam forward again, the force jolting your body up the forest floor, leaves crunching under your shoulders. It's animalistic from the start. No gentle easing, just raw pounding thrusts that shake your teeth. His hips snap with brutal precision, each drive burying him to the root, the bulge reforming with every plunge.
You cry out, the sound high and broken, your hands scrabbling at his vest, nails catching on the rough fabric as pleasure explodes through you.
"Too big ah! It's too much!" You gasp but your legs wrap around his waist on instinct, heels digging into his lower back, pulling him closer despite the protest from your swollen mouth.
He laughs, a dark, rumbling sound that vibrates through his chest and into yours, his free hand pinning your hip to the ground to control the angle.
Saliva drips from his open mouth as he leans down, fangs grazing your ear. "Too much? Nah, baby, you're soakn' me already. Feel that? Your pussy's grippin' like a vice, beggin' for my seed. Gonna fill you up till you're drippin' with it, swell this belly for real."
He punctuates the vow with a particularly vicious thrust, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the trees, your arousal squelching obscenely around his pistoning length. Froth builds at the base where you're joined, creamy white from the friction clinging to his veined shaft as he withdraws only to ram back in.
Your mind fractures under the onslaught, thoughts dissolving into moans. Endless dumb little sounds spilling from your lips as he fucks you like a beast in rut.
"Mhm oh yes, harder." You babble incoherently, head lolling back.
Your nipples, still slick from his earlier attention, scrape against his vest with every bounce, sending sparks down your spine. He's rabid now, obsessed, his mouth latching onto your neck, sucking bruises into the delicate skin while his tongue laps at the salt of your sweat.
"That's it, moan for me." He growls against your throat, hips grinding in circles to stir his cock inside you, the bulge shifting under his palm. "Loud enough for your whole damn clan to hear. Let 'em know Jake Sully's claimin' their princess, turnin' this tight hole into my personal cum dump."
The dirty torrent of his words only heightens the haze, your body arching to meet his brutal rhythm. He shifts, hooking one of your legs over his elbow to open you wider, the new angle letting him grind against that sweet spot inside. Stars burst behind your eyelids, your walls fluttering wildly as the first orgasm builds fast and fierce.
"Gonna cum. Please, don't stop." You whimper, voice slurred, fingers tangling in his braided queue to anchor yourself.
"Soak my cock then." He demands, teeth nipping your collarbone, his own breaths ragged now, sweat slicking the powerful lines of his arms and the ridges of his abs. "Milk me dry, show me how bad you want my load pumpin' into your womb."
His pace turns erratic, thrusts shorter and harder, the squelch of your combined fluids growing louder, messier. When you shatter, it's with a wail. Pussy convulsing, gushing around him in hot spurts that soak his balls and thighs. He doesn't let up, fucking you through it, the creamy ring at your entrance thickening as your release coats him.
But he's insatiable, that much is clear in the way he doesn't soften, doesn't pull out.
Instead, he flips you onto your stomach with effortless strength, hauling your hips up so your ass presents to him, knees sinking into the moss. Your arms give out, cheek pressed to the cool earth, body limp and trembling from the aftershocks.
"Not done yet." He snarls, voice thick with obsession, one hand fisting your queue to arch your back. He mounts you from behind, sliding back in with a single, possessive thrust that punches the air from your lungs. The bulge reforms, more pronounced in this position, his palm slapping down to your stomach to feel it again. "Fuck, look at you. Ass up, takin' it like a good little mate. This pussy's mine, gonna breed it over and over till you're ruined for anyone else."
You moan dumbly, face buried in your arms, the world narrowing to the relentless drag of his cock splitting you open. Saliva pools at the corner of your mouth, slightly drooling onto the leaves as he sets a punishing pace, hips colliding with your ass in loud, fleshy smacks. Froth bubbles around his base, dripping down your thighs in sticky rivulets, mixing with the cum from your earlier squirt. He's feral, grunting like an animal, his tail curling around your thigh to hold you steady.
"Tell me you love it." He pants, leaning over your back, chest pressing hot against your spine, his mouth hot on your shoulder. "Tell me you're my pretty slut, betrayin' your clan for this dick."
"Y-yes." You sob-moan, pushing back weakly, your body a boneless mess in his grip. "Love it. Yours, all yours. Fuck me. Breed me, please!"
The words tumble out filthy and desperate, your mind too blissed-out to care, every thrust turning you dumber and needier.
He rewards the plea with a growl, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks, thrusting deeper and faster. "That's my girl. Gonna knot you up with cum, make sure it takes. Imagine it, your belly round with my young, tits leakin' for me."
His free hand snakes around to rub your clit in rough circles that make your toes curl, another climax ripping through you before you can brace. You scream into the dirt, walls clamping down on him and that's what undoes him.
With a roar that shakes the leaves, he buries himself deep, cock swelling as he unloads thick ropes of cum flooding your pussy, hot and endless, the excess bubbling out around his shaft in creamy spurts. The squelch is deafening as he grinds through his release, ensuring every drop stays buried, the bulge now joined by the warmth of his seed pressing against your insides.
You collapse fully, limp and spent, but he stays seated inside, panting over you, his weight a comforting cage yet even as the first wave fades, his hips twitch, stirring the mess within.
"One more." He murmurs, voice hoarse but insistent, rolling you onto your side to spoon against him.
His arm bands around your waist, holding you flush as he starts thrusting again. Slower this time but no less deep, the cum from before acting as lube, squelching with every slide. Froth clings to your folds, his balls slapping wetly against you, saliva from his earlier bites still glistening on your skin.
"Can't get enough." He confesses between kisses to your nape, obsessed whispers against your ear. "You're perfect. So tight, wet, and mine. Gonna fuck you till dawn, fill you till you're leakin' for days."
You can only moan in response, overstimulated and dumb, body yielding as he builds you up once more.
The third round drags on, drawn-out and torturous in its pleasure, his hand roaming your curves, squeezing the swell of your breast, tracing the patterns on your thigh while his cock churns the cum inside you into a frothy cream. "Feel that load sloshin' around? That's me markin' you inside out."
And your broken replies fills his ears. "More, give me more. Make me yours."
When he cums again, it's quieter, a deep groan as he floods you anew, the cream overflowing trickling down your ass in warm trails. You follow with a shuddering whimper, black spots dancing in your vision, utterly fucked out.
Finally, the haze clears, his movements stilling as he softens inside you, though he doesn't withdraw. He gathers you close, turning you in his arms to cradle your smaller form against his chest, vest damp with sweat. His tail wraps around your leg possessively, one hand stroking your disheveled braids.
The forest quiets around you, bioluminescent flora pulsing softly in the dimming light.
"Had fun running away from me, baby?" He asks, voice gentle now, a teasing lilt as his thumb brushes your swollen lips.
You giggle, the sound light and breathless, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, inhaling his musky scent mingled with yours.
"Yes, Ma Jake." You murmur, eyes half-lidded in sated bliss. "Let's do it again."
He laughs, the vibration rumbling through you, holding you tighter as his features soften, the feral edge giving way to something tender, devoted. The remnants of your shared frenzy cling to you both, sticky trails of cum drying on your inner thighs, the faint ache between your legs a reminder of his unyielding possession. Jake's hand, rough from years of battle yet tender in its hold, traces lazy circles over your side, fingers dipping into the subtle dip of your waist before splaying possessively over the flat of your stomach, still faintly tender from the bulge his thrusts had wrought.
He presses a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, inhaling the sweet, earthy scent of your braids mingled with the musk of sex.
You smile at what transpired moments ago, it was exactly what happened when Jake first saw you all those weeks ago. The chase, the hunger, the animalistic filth fogging Jake as he set his sights on you. What happened just now was simply a reenactment of that day.
"You okay, my love?" He still checks, voice a low rumble laced with concern, his golden eyes searching your face as he tilts your chin up with a gentle thumb.
The feral gleam has softened, revealing the depth of his devotion, the way his tail twines loosely around your calf in quiet reassurance.
You nod, a soft smile curving your full lips, the earlier tears now dried into faint salty tracks on your high cheekbones. Leaning in, you nuzzle against the warm hollow of his throat, your nose grazing the pulse point where his heartbeat thrums steady and strong. The gesture is instinctive, affectionate, your smaller hands sliding up his arms to feel the unyielding strength beneath his skin, the ridges of old scars from skirmishes long past.
"I'm more than okay, Ma Jake." You whisper, voice breathy with lingering satisfaction, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you recall the thrill of the chase. "That was... intense."
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through you like distant thunder, his free hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing away an imaginary smudge. The lines of his face, etched with the weight of leadership and loss, ease into a grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
"Yeah, it was fun playin' that." He admits, his tone warm and conspiratorial, leaning down to nip playfully at your earlobe, sending a shiver racing down your spine. "Seein' you run, all innocent and wide-eyed like how you looked weeks ago... fuck, it drove me wild. But knowin' you're mine now underneath it all? That's what makes it real."
His gaze darkens briefly with obsession but he reins it in, focusing on you with unwavering intensity.
You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your expression shifting to one of earnest gravity, the playful light fading as reality intrudes.
Your fingers trace the edge of his vest, still askew from your earlier tussle, feeling the heat radiating from his torso. "In three days, my sister will attack with Quaritch. Gather more allies and be ready to ambush them."
He nods slowly, absorbing your words, his jaw tightening with resolve as he processes the threat. The strategic mind behind the warrior surfaces, eyes narrowing thoughtfully while his hand squeezes your hip in silent gratitude. Without another word, he captures your mouth in a deep kiss, slow and claiming, his lips firm against your softer ones, tongue sweeping in to taste the remnants of your shared passion.
It's a kiss that speaks volumes of trust, love, the unbreakable tie that binds you despite the worlds pulling you apart. You melt into it, your body arching instinctively, hands threading through his braided queue to hold him close. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling in the scant space between.
"Come to me before the battle starts." He instructs, voice firm yet gentle, his fingers combing through your tousled hair to smooth the wild strands. "I need you there, safe with me."
He holds you tighter then, his massive frame curling protectively around your smaller one, the forest enveloping you both in its ancient embrace.
In this hidden glade, away from the brewing storms of war and betrayal, you're simply mates. Two souls intertwined, ready to defy clans, blood, and enemies for the life you're building. Varang's shadow looms but it pales against the fire you share with Jake, a bond forged in passion and sealed in loyalty. As the night deepens, you drift toward sleep in his arms, the promise of another life and the battles ahead tempered by the certainty of his love.
Forgive me, tsmuke. I choose him.
He holds you tighter then, his massive frame curling protectively around your smaller one, the forest enveloping you both in its embrace. He held back a smirk threatening to rise on his lips. He's assured now that his plan had worked.
He will win this war just like how he won with you, his innocent pretty girl.
sorry i just binged your âiâm your dream girl but iâm not your typeâ series and I just want to say i love you so much like iâm literally in love with you
AW THANK YOU SO MUCH!! i will be posting the next part in a few days, it will be the second to the last part so weâre really so close to finishing đ«¶đ»
Neteyam as a dad and his mate is attracted to to him being a good father and she wants more kids (breeding kink)
an insatiable man
another part to youâre beautiful (a short glimpse to their future where everything worked out in neteyamâs favor).
pairings: aged up oloâeyktan neteyam x female mangkwan reader
notes: neteyam really canât keep his hands off you he needs to find a hobby, you really fell in love with him despite the manipulation & darkness he turned to to get you, your kids are cuties, a mated life and a big family with neteyam, loâak and neytiri with exasperated disbelief at neteyam, neteyam being a sully through and through (he got it from jake). smut, breeding, neteyam a dirty talker, big dick neteyam, milk sucking.
prompt: loâak says neteyam needs to find a hobby but neteyam canât help it if his favorite sight is you all plump and pregnant every damn year by him.
word count: 3.8k
main masterlist | neteyam masterlist
credits to @uzmacchiato (dividers)
The rhythm of Neteyam's hips against yours was relentless, a deep unyielding thrust that filled you completely as he stretched your walls around his thick length.
You were pinned beneath him in the woven hammock of your marui pod, the soft glow of dying embers casting flickering lights across his broader and more muscled frame. The body of the once young warrior who pursued you so relentlessly without caring if itâs through deceit and manipulation had now turned into a devoted father and leader years later. His hands gripped your fuller hips, fingers digging into the plush curves that motherhood had gifted you, pulling you back onto him with each powerful drive.
The air was thick with the scent of your shared arousal along with the earthy aroma of the forest outside and every delicious slide of his cock inside you sent sparks of pleasure coiling through your core.
Your mind wandered even as your body arched into his, lost in the haze of sensation. Earlier that day despite the weight of his duties as Olo'eyktan, of being Jake Sully's successor and the fearless protector of the Omatikaya after defeating your old clan and punishing Alayni, you'd watched him with your four children.
His patience was endless despite your rough start, his love a quiet force that made your heart swell.
He'd knelt in the dirt with your youngest, little Tseyka, her tiny hands tugging at his braided hair as he explained the flight patterns of ikran with gentle enthusiasm. The older ones, Neteyra and the twins, had clamored for stories of his hunts and he'd obliged, his voice warm and steady, drawing them close with arms that could command a clan but cradled his family with such tenderness.
Even in the midst of council meetings and border patrols, he'd stolen moments to check on you. His hand brushing your belly still soft from the last pregnancy and whispering promises of more. Eywa, how you loved him like this. So strong, so attentive, the perfect mate who balanced the world on his shoulders without ever letting it touch you or the little ones.
A sharp tap against your thigh pulled you from the reverie, Neteyam's palm connecting with your soft flesh in a firm, possessive smack that made you gasp.
"Baby, focus on me." He growled low, his voice a sensual rumble that vibrated through his chest and into yours where your bodies pressed together. His golden eyes locked onto yours intensely, the slit pupils dilated with raw hunger. "You're drifting off in that pretty head of yours while my cock is reshaping your tight little pussy. Feel it? Feel how I'm molding you to me, making you mine all over again."
He emphasized his words with a deliberate roll of his hips, grinding deep until the broad head of him nudged against your cervix that sent a jolt of exquisite pressure through you. You whimpered, your fuller breasts heaving with each breath, nipples peaked and aching from the cool air and the building heat between you.
Neteyam noticed them, of courseâhe always did.
His gaze dropped to them, a predatory gleam flashing as he leaned down, his broader shoulders eclipsing the light. One large hand released your hip to cup the heavy weight of one breast, thumb circling the sensitive bud before pinching it just hard enough to make you cry out.
"These." He murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he squeezed, watching a bead of milk pearl at the tip. Your body still producing for the little ones, even now. "So full and soft, perfect for our babies. But tonight, they're mine. Gonna suck every drop from you, compete with our kids for this sweet milk. Make you leak for me while I fuck you full."
His words were blunt and direct, laced with that filthy edge that always ignited something primal in you. He lowered his head, lips closing around your nipple in a hot wet pull that had you arching off the hammock, the sensation shooting straight to your core where he was buried deep.
You moaned, fingers threading into his braided hair pulling him closer as he suckled greedily, the rhythmic tug mirroring the thrust of his hips. Milk flowed freely now, warm and sweet on his tongue which made him groan against you, the vibration humming through your breast.
"Taste so good, syulang." He rasped, pulling back just enough to let a trickle escape down your curve before lapping it up with a swipe of his tongue. "Our children get their fill during the day but at night? You're all mine. Gonna drain these tits dry while I breed you again."
His free hand manhandled you effortlessly, sliding under your thigh to hitch your leg higher over his hip, opening you wider for his relentless pace. The new angle let him sink even deeper, his thick cock dragging along every ridge inside you, the veins pulsing against your fluttering walls.
You could feel him everywhere, stretching and claiming, the sheer size of him making your body yield in ways that left you breathless. Motherhood had softened and rounded you, your hips wider and your ass plush against his pelvis with each slap of skin on skin. He reveled in it, his grip bruising in the best way as he pulled you onto him harder.
Your mind flickered back again to the morning.
How he'd gathered the children around the fire, teaching them to weave baskets with the same focus he brought to battle strategies. Neteyra had fumbled her fibers, frustration creasing her young brow, but Neteyam had only smiled that soft reassuring curve of his lips and guided her hands with his own.
"Patience, little one." He said, his voice like a caress. "Just like your mother taught me."
And you'd watched from the entrance, your heart aching with love for this man who led a clan yet made time to braid flowers into the twins' hair, to rock Tseyka to sleep when teething kept her fussy. He was insatiable for you, yes, but his devotion to your family? It made you crave him all the more, made you want to give him everything. More children, more of this life woven together. Itâs funny how you went from hating his demon blood to having four more of them with him, from being a cruel Mangkwan Tsakarem to a happy and cared for wife of the Omatikaya Oloâeyktan.
Another tap, this one on your ass as he shifted, flipping you slightly onto your side without ever leaving your heat.
"I can feel you slipping away again." He teased, though his tone held that sensual command, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw, turning your face to meet his gaze. "Thinking about how good I am with them? How I make time for our little ones even when the clan pulls at me?"
He thrust harder then, a punctuation to his words, his cock spearing into you with a wet obscene sound that made your toes curl.
"Good. Remember that while I fuck another baby into you. Focus on this, on how my big dick is carving out space for our fifth. Gonna make you a mama every damn year, baby. Fill this belly until it's round and heavy again."
You nodded frantically, lost in the haze of his words and the way he filled you, but your thoughts lingered on the tenderness of it all.
The way he'd come home exhausted from patrols, only to scoop you into his arms, kissing your forehead before checking on the children one by one. He'd tell stories of Eywa's gifts, his voice weaving magic around the pod, drawing laughter and yawns from the little ones until they slept. And then with you, he'd turn that same intensity into passion, his hands exploring your changed body with reverence. From the swell of your breasts to the curve of your waist like you were the most precious thing in his world.
It fueled your desire now, made the slick slide of him inside you feel like more than just lust. It was connection, a promise of forever.
Neteyam sensed it of course, his body attuned to yours like the beat of a shared heart. He released your jaw to trail his hand down your side, palm splaying over the softness of your belly, pressing just enough to feel the bulge of himself beneath.
"Look at that." He grunted, voice rough with need as he picked up his pace, hips snapping forward in a rhythm that had the hammock swaying. "See how I'm shaping you? Stretching this pussy for my seed. You're so full now, curves I can't get enough of. Gonna breed you deep and make sure it takes. Want you swollen with me again, walking around the clan knowing I put that there."
His mouth found your other breast, latching on with a hunger that bordered on feral, sucking hard enough to draw milk in steady streams. You keened, the dual sensations overwhelming as his tongue swirled, his teeth grazing just enough to sting sweetly while his cock pistoned in and out, the friction building that coil in your belly tighter and tighter.
He manhandled you further, rolling you fully onto your stomach now, his weight pressing you into the furs as he mounted you from behind. One arm banded around your waist, pulling your hips up to meet his thrusts, the other hand fisting in your hair to arch your back, exposing more of you to his ravaging mouth.
"Mhm, our kids always wanting your attention." He murmured against your skin, his breath ragged. "But their own father always win."
He nipped at your shoulder then soothed it with a kiss, his broader frame caging you in a way that felt protective and possessive. The tap came again, lighter this time on your hip as he adjusted, driving in at a new angle that hit that spot inside you relentlessly.
"Eyes on me when you cum, baby. Feel every inch of me, how I'm ruining you for anyone else, how I'm making you mine forever."
Your reminiscences blurred into the present, the image of him cradling Tseyka merging with the feel of him claiming you now. He was everything. A leader, father, lover, and your savior, the one who familiarized you with his overwhelming burning lobe and reintroduced you to a life believing Eywa. The thought pushed you closer to the edge, your body clenching around his girth.
Neteyam groaned feeling it, his thrusts turning erratic and deeper, the slap of his heavy sac against your swollen clit sending shocks through you. "That's it, baby. Milk my cock like you milk my mouth. Gonna flood you, breed you until you're dripping with me. Every year, more babies, more of us."
He flipped you once more, this time onto your back, hooking both your legs over his shoulders to fold you in half, his beefier arms bracketing your head as he loomed above. The position let him plunge impossibly deep inside you, his golden eyes never leaving yours, that soft dominance shining through the lust.
"I see it in your eyes, how you love me with them, how it makes you wet for this." A tap to your thigh, insistent. "So focus here, on how good I fuck you. On how I'll always come back to this, to you, fuller and perfect."
His pace built relentlessly, the hammock creaking under the force, your breasts bouncing with each impact with milk trickling from both peaks now.
You were lost utterly in the storm of him, the way his muscles flexed, the sweat glistening on his blue skin, the filthy promises pouring from his lips like prayers.
"Gonna suck these tits while our next one grows inside you. Make you a mama again and again. A big family just like we dreamed." His hand slipped between you, fingers circling your swollen clit with expert pressure, pushing you over as his cock throbbed inside you insistently.
The orgasm crashed through you with waves of pleasure ripping cries from your throat, your walls pulsing around him in a vice that pulled him deeper. Neteyam followed with a guttural growl, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside you with thick ropes of seed painting your depths, his hips grinding to push it further in you. He collapsed gently atop you still suckling at your breast, lapping lazily as you both came down, his hand stroking your curves with tender possession.
"My pretty baby." He whispered, voice softening to that sensual timbre you adored. "Now rest. Tomorrow, we start planning for more."
And in that moment with his warmth surrounding you, you knew you'd give him everything, again and again.
The soft hum of the Omatikaya village wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the bioluminescent flora pulsing gently in the twilight as the clan gathered for their evening rituals.
A month had passed since that heated night in your marui pod and already the evidence of Neteyam's insatiable claim bloomed within you in a subtle swell to your belly, a warmth that radiated through your fuller form and making your skin glow with the quiet promise of new life. You felt it in every step, the tender ache of early pregnancy mingling with a deep-seated contentment, your curves softening further under the weight of his seed taking root.
Eywa's grace. You thought, tracing a hand over the gentle curve, how he had a way of filling not just your body but your entire world with his devotion, of his love, of his belief to Eywa, everything.
Neteyam moved through the crowd with the effortless authority of the Olo'eyktan, his broader shoulders cutting a path as he nodded to warriors and elders alike but his golden eyes always found you, pulling you back to his side like gravity itself.
The clan rejoiced in whispers and knowing smiles at the sight of you two. Your growing family a symbol of strength and continuity for the Omatikaya. It has been several years and his people had truly come to love you despite being a Mangkwan. You had already proven yourself to them the day you chose their him and the Omatikaya over your sister during the last battle. It was a rough time but all of that led to this life you have now.
"Another blessing from the Great Mother." An elder had murmured earlier, her hand pressing briefly to your abdomen in benediction while children scampered nearby, mimicking the swell with exaggerated waddles and laughter.
It was a celebration woven into the fabric of daily life, the songs of fertility rising from the communal fires and honoring their leader's legacy in the most profound way.
But amid the joy, your own little ones were a whirlwind of excitement, their small bodies pressing close as you sat on a woven mat near the central gathering. Neteyra, the eldest at seven, knelt before you, her wide eyes shining as she placed a delicate flower crown atop your head.
"For the baby, Mama." She said softly, her fingers lingering on your cheek.
The twins, Aylu and Kiriak, five years of boundless energy flanked you, one hand on your belly, the other tugging at your arm, chattering about names and games they'd teach the new sibling.
Little Tseyka, barely two, climbed into your lap without preamble, her chubby fists clutching your kuru as she nuzzled against the swell that was already more pronounced to her innocent eyes.
"Baba." She cooed patting gently, her warmth seeping into you like sunlight.
You laughed, the sound light and breathless, overwhelmed by their affection as they fussed and clung, a tangle of limbs and love that made your heart ache sweetly.
"Easy, my loves." You murmured, stroking Tseyka's back while disentangling a braid from Neteyra's eager grasp. "Mama's here but the baby needs room to grow."
Yet they wouldn't let go, their joy an immense possessive thing mirroring their father's in its intensity.
From across the clearing, Neteyam watched with a soft smile curving his lips, his stance relaxed yet commanding as he finished a brief exchange with a scout. But the moment his duties allowed, he strode over, his presence parting the children like a gentle wave.
"Alright, little hunters." He rumbled, his voice that sensual timbre laced with playful authority. "Time to share your mother."
He scooped Tseyka up first, her giggles bubbling as he bounced her lightly on his hip, freeing your lap just enough for him to slide in behind you. With casual dominance, his arm banded around your waist, pulling you back against his chest until you were settled firmly on his lap, your swollen belly cradled by the heat of him.
The twins protested with dramatic whines and clambering to reclaim their spots but Neteyam chuckled, his free hand ruffling Aylu's hair while he held Kiriak at bay with a mock stern look.
"She's carrying our next warrior." He said, his tone brooking no argument though his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Papa gets first watch tonight."
It was effortless, this way he took charge. It was not harsh but it was unyielding, ensuring you lifted not a finger amid the chaos just like before when they captured you. He'd already seen to the evening meal earlier, arranging for fresh fruits and smoked fish to be brought to your pod and now as the children settled around you in a semi-circle, he reached for a nearby gourd of water, pressing it to your lips.
"Drink, baby. For you and our little one."
You sipped, leaning into his solid frame, the scent of his skin which was earthy and spiced with the day's exertions grounding you. His hand splayed protectively over your belly, thumb tracing lazy circles that sent shivers of warmth through you, a silent vow etched in his touch.
Neteyam had always been insatiable, his desire for you a constant flame from the first day he saw you and you held your blade to his neck but pregnancy amplified it, turning his passion into something firmer and more guarded. He hovered closer these days, his beefier arms a constant shield, manhandling you with care by lifting you onto perches during hunts' viewings and carrying you over uneven paths without a word.
"Mine to protect." He'd whisper in the quiet hours, his lips brushing your temple as he drew you near, unwilling to let even the simplest task burden you.
Lo'ak sauntered up then, his grin wide and mischievous, slinging an arm around Neteyam's shoulders in that brotherly way that always teetered on teasing. You remembered how he was wary of you but he had grown to care for you over the years, been a constant in your life and ensuring nobody in his clan messed with you for being a Mangkwan. He was always the favorite uncle he says, not that thereâs any more to choose from.
"Eywa bro, look at you. Olo'eyktan by day, baby-maker by night. Don't you ever get tired of yourself? Maybe pick up a new hobby, huh? Something that doesn't involve knocking up your mate every damn year." He dodged the half-hearted swat Neteyam aimed at him, laughing as he backed away but his eyes flicked to your glowing form with genuine warmth and fondness beneath the jest. "Clan's thriving sure but at this rate, you'll need a bigger marui just for the kids."
Neteyam snorted, his chest rumbling against your back but he didn't rise to the bait fully, instead tightening his hold on you possessively. "Jealous, skxawng? Find your own mate to build a legacy with."
His words were light but there was that edge of pride, his gaze dropping to where his hand rested on your bump. The sight of you pregnant because of him, his favorite vision, one that made his pupils dilate with quiet reverence. You felt it in the way he shifted you higher on his lap, ensuring your comfort, his body a throne of muscle and care.
Nearby under the shade of a massive tree, Neytiri sat with Jake, little Tseyka now transferred to her grandmother's lap for a story. The toddler babbled contentedly, tiny hands weaving through Neytiri's beads while Jake lounged beside them, his laughter lines deepening as he watched the scene unfold. Neytiri has been the first to accept your mating with her son out of the Sully family and eventually Jake had grown to care for you too. He sees himself and Neytiri whenever he looks at the two of you.
Neytiri shook her head, her expression a mix of exasperation and fondness, her sharp eyes tracking Neteyam's protective encirclement of you.
"Never thought our eldest would have such a big family." She sighed leaning into Jake's side. "He's not letting (Y/N) have a break from getting pregnant, Ma Jake. Oh Eywa, that child."
Jake's chuckle was deep and knowing, his hand squeezing Neytiri's knee as he glanced over to your family with pride evident in his gaze.
A Sully through and through.
"Tiri. He got that fire from me, couldn't keep my hands off you either remember?" He winked earning an eye-roll from his mate but the warmth between them mirrored the one you shared with Neteyam. "Neteyamâs just doing what comes natural. He loves her a lot."
As the evening deepened, the clan's rejoicing swelled into a rhythmic chant rising from the fires honoring the Olo'eyktan's growing lineage, their voices blending in harmony that vibrated through the air. Your children, momentarily distracted by the song, joined in with off-key enthusiasm, their small voices weaving into the tapestry.
Neteyam pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. "Hear that, baby? They're singing for us, for what our love made."
His fingers intertwined with yours over your belly, squeezing gently, that casual dominance threading through every gesture. The way he anticipated your needs, the subtle command in his touch that said you were his to cherish and to shield.
You turned your head catching his gaze, the emotional tether between you pulling taut.
In his eyes, you saw it all. The leader who balanced the clan's burdens, the father who played and taught with endless patience, the mate whose desire burned steady and deep enough to go through any lengths to keep you by his side, through blood and fire or not.
The glow of pregnancy amplified everything, your body humming with the life he'd planted and in quiet moments like this, with the village alive around you, you felt utterly complete. Neteyam's hand slipped lower, cupping the curve of your hip with possessive tenderness, a promise of nights to come when the children slept and his protectiveness turned to passion once more.
"They're happy." You whispered nodding to the kids who now danced in a circle, mimicking the clan's steps with clumsy joy. "All of them, our family."
"And it grows because of you baby." He hummed in agreement nuzzling your neck, his voice a low caress. "Because I can't stop wanting more of this with you. It was what I wanted ever since I first saw you back in the forest."
The words hung between you, intimate and charged, building that slow anticipation even in the midst of the gathering. As the chants swelled, he held you closer, his world narrowed to the swell of your belly against his palm, the beat of your heart syncing with his.
Every deceit, every darkness I became led to this. To you.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead grinning to himself as he held you and gaze at your children together by the fire.
notes: pining, jealousy, misunderstandings between the two, reader and neteyam are dumb, lo'ak being the sensible one.
word count: 5.9k
prompt: all along he thought you knew he was courting you but when you start avoiding him when you see him with another girl, he thinks you want him to stop courting you not knowing you werenât really aware he was trying to mate with you.
main masterlist | neteyam masterlist
credits to the gif owner
The sun dipped low over the lush canopy of the Omatikaya forest, casting golden shafts through the leaves that danced across your azure skin like fleeting fireflies.
You sat cross-legged on a woven mat at the edge of the communal fire pit, your lithe frame relaxed after a long day of gathering herbs and weaving baskets. Strands of your dark hair, loosely braided with feathers from the hexapede you'd befriended, framed your delicate face, where wide amber eyes sparkled with quiet contentment. Your beauty was effortless, a soft curve to your full lips, high cheekbones flushed with the day's warmth, and a slender neck that led to the gentle swell of your shoulders, bare save for the thin straps of your beaded top.
You were known in the clan for your sweetness, always offering a kind word or a helping hand, your voice like a gentle breeze carrying notes of laughter that eased tensions among the hunters and weavers alike.
Neteyam approached from the treeline, his tall, athletic build cutting through the underbrush with purposeful strides.
His blue skin held a subtle sheen under the fading light, broader than the average Na'vi, he moved with fluid grace as any born of Eywa. His golden eyes, sharp and watchful, softened the moment they landed on you, and he carried a skewer of roasted yerik meat in one hand, the savory aroma wafting toward the fire. He had been out on patrol all afternoon, his lithe muscles still taut from the exertion, a faint sheen of sweat tracing the defined lines of his chest and abdomen, where faint scars from training marred the otherwise smooth expanse.
Without a word, he lowered himself beside you, his thigh brushing yours in a way that felt natural, protective like a shield woven from his very presence. The heat from his body mingled with the fire's glow, and you shifted slightly, making room, your tail curling idly against the mat.
"Here." He said, his voice deep and warm, laced with that attentive care he always reserved for you, extending the skewer. "You haven't eaten since morning. Take this."
His free hand hovered near your shoulder, as if ready to steady you, his fingers long and calloused from bowstrings.
You accepted the meat with a grateful smile, your lips parting to reveal straight white teeth, and bit into the tender flesh, juices dripping down your chin. "Thank you, Teyam. You're always looking out for everyone."
Your tone was light, sincere, as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, savoring the smoky flavor.
He watched you eat, his gaze lingering on the way your throat moved with each swallow, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
When you'd finished half the skewer, he reached over casually, his knuckles grazing the soft plane of your midriff just above your woven skirt. His touch was light, playful, as he poked gently at the slight give of your stomach, testing.
"Full yet?" He teased, his golden eyes crinkling with amusement, the firelight reflecting in their depths like stars.
You giggled, the sound bubbling up sweetly, your hand instinctively covering his for a moment before pulling back, the contact sending a warm flutter through you that you dismissed as simple comfort.
He poked your tummy once more, firmer this time, until he nodded in satisfaction, withdrawing his hand but not his proximity.
Leaning back on one elbow, his broad shoulders rolling with the motion, he grinned a full boyish expression that lit up his handsome features, revealing the dimple in his left cheek. "Good. I have to keep you well-fed, or else you'll be grumpy all evening, and no one wants that."
His words carried a fond lilt, protective undertone threading through like vines around a tree trunk.
You felt a flush creep up your neck, your cheeks warming to a subtle lavender hue, but you waved it off with a laugh, assuming it was just his way. Neteyam had always been kind, especially to you, like an older brother watching over the clan.
"I'm not grumpy." You protested softly, nudging his arm with your elbow, the muscle there solid under your touch. "But I appreciate it. Really."
The flattery settled comfortably in your chest, a quiet joy at his attentiveness, yet you chalked it up to platonic concern, the kind he showed to his siblings or close friends.
As the evening deepened, the camp buzzed with shared stories and laughter around the fire.
Neteyam stayed glued to your side, his knee pressing against yours whenever he shifted to gesture during a tale, his arm occasionally draping over the log behind you, fingers nearly brushing your hair.
You leaned into the space without thinking, your shoulder nestling against his, reciprocating the closeness naturally by tucking a loose strand of his braid behind his ear when it fell forward, or passing him a gourd of water with a soft tone. "Here, you look thirsty."
Each act felt easy, instinctive, like breathing in the humid air, unaware that to him, they were signals blooming in the silent language of courtship.
Neteyam interpreted your every response as understanding, as quiet acceptance of his intentions. He had never spoken the words outright. Why would he? In the ways of the People, actions wove the bond stronger than declarations. Your easy touches, the way your amber eyes met his without pulling away, filled him with a swelling joy, his heart pounding a steady rhythm whenever that purple flush colored your cheeks under his gaze. He believed you knew, that your sweetness masked a shared secret, and it made his protective instincts burn brighter.
The next morning dawned with mist clinging to the ferns, the air alive with the calls of ilu in the nearby streams.
You knelt by the riverbank, your slender fingers dipping into the cool water to rinse fresh fruit, your lithe legs folded beneath you, the curve of your hips accentuated by the morning light filtering through the leaves. Your beauty shone in these simple moments, skin glowing like polished sapphire, the gentle arch of your back as you reached for a low-hanging vine, full lips pursed in concentration.
Neteyam emerged from the path leading to the hunting grounds, his stride confident, a small woven pouch slung over his shoulder. He had risen before the sun, his mind fixed on you as always, seeking you out amid the clan's morning routines.
Spotting you by the water, he veered toward you without hesitation, his tall frame casting a shadow that made you glance up, your face brightening with that sweet smile.
"Good morning." You greeted, straightening with a handful of berries, droplets trailing down your arms like liquid diamonds.
He knelt beside you, close enough that his knee dipped into the damp earth next to yours, his scent earthy and spiced from the hunt washing over you. From the pouch, he drew a delicate necklace, woven from fine fibers dyed in deep indigo, threaded with small beads that matched the ones woven into his own braids, iridescent and polished stones, symbols of promise among the Omatikaya. Such gifts were no small thing, only those spoken for exchanged beads and jewelry, a quiet vow etched in adornment.
His golden eyes held yours steadily as he held it out, voice soft with earnest warmth. "For you. I made it last night."
Your eyes widened, fingers trembling slightly as you took it, the beads cool against your palm.
It was beautiful, intricate, and you traced the patterns with awe, slipping it over your head without a second thought. The weight settled against your collarbone, warm now from your skin.
"Neteyam, it's stunning." You breathed, touching it lightly, your voice laced with genuine delight. "Thank you so much. You're too kind."
To you, it was another gesture of friendship, a token from a dear companion who noticed your love for such crafts.
He watched as you adjusted it, his chest tightening with quiet elation at how it complemented the curve of your neck, drawing out the glow of your eyes.
Leaning in, his breath ghosting your ear, he murmured. "It looks pretty on you. Suits you perfectly."
His hand lingered near your shoulder, thumb brushing the strap of your top in a fleeting touch, protective and tender.
Throughout the day, he positioned himself near you effortlessly, standing at your side while you helped mend nets, his arm steadying yours when a knot proved tricky, the heat of his body a constant reassurance.
At midday meal, he claimed the spot beside you on the log, sharing bites of breadfruit from his own portion, his knee bumping yours under the pretense of passing a utensil. You reciprocated without reservation, feeding him a piece of fruit in return, your fingers grazing his lips accidentally, laughing softly at the juice that smeared his chin.
"Messy eater." You teased sweetly, wiping it away with your thumb, the act intimate yet innocent in your mind.
Neteyam savored these moments, his heart swelling each time you leaned into him or met his gaze with that trusting warmth. Your acceptance fueled his belief that you understood that this was the dance of courtship, unspoken but profound. He never pressed for words, in his eyes, your sweetness was the answer, and it made him seek you out even more fervently.
That evening, as the hunters returned from a brief foray into the woods, Neteyam was among the first to break from the group, his eyes scanning the camp until they found you seated by the weaver's circle, your fingers deftly threading vines into patterns. He approached with a small bundle wrapped in leaves, his lithe form still humming with the thrill of the chase, chest rising and falling steadily under his harness.
Kneeling before you, he unwrapped it to reveal a cluster of rare glow-fruit, their skins luminescent even in the twilight, plucked from a hidden grove.
"For you." He said again, his voice rich with affection, golden eyes locking onto yours as he placed it in your lap, his hand covering yours briefly, thumb stroking the back in a soothing circle. "Saw these and thought of your smile, they light up like you do."
You blushed, the purple tint blooming across your nose, and accepted the gift with a soft gasp, your free hand touching his wrist in thanks. "Neteyam, you didn't have to. But... I love them. You're always bringing me the best things."
Popping one into your mouth, the sweet burst made you hum in pleasure, and you offered him the next, unaware of the courtship ritual in the sharing. He took it from your fingers, his lips brushing your skin deliberately, a spark of joy igniting in his chest at your oblivious sweetness.
As days blurred into a rhythm of closeness, you couldn't help the quiet worry that gnawed at you during quieter moments.
Neteyam spent so much time with you, guarding your path to the river, joining you in the evenings to stargaze, his arm around your shoulders as if warding off the night's chill. It was flattering, the way his attentiveness made you feel seen, cherished, but you fretted silently that it might deter other potential mates. He was the clan's golden son, brave and skilled. Surely, his focus on you could ruin his chances.
Yet, deep down, a selfish part of you wanted to bask in it longer.
You'd always harbored a secret longing for it to be you, imagining his hand in yours during the mating rituals, his golden eyes promising forever. But if he truly wanted that, wouldn't he have said it outright? Na'vi didn't play games with such things.
So you kept quiet, letting yourself enjoy his presence while it lasted. The way he'd pull you close during a sudden rain, shielding you with his body, his laughter rumbling against your ear or how he'd braid a fresh flower into your hair after a swim, his fingers lingering on your scalp, massaging gently until you sighed in contentment.
One afternoon, as you walked the forest paths together collecting vines, he stayed a step behind, his eyes tracing the sway of your hips, the elegant line of your spine. When a low branch snagged your arm, he was there instantly, plucking it away with a tsk of concern, his palm cupping your elbow to inspect the minor scratch.
"Careful, sevin." He murmured, the endearment slipping out like a habit, his touch feather-light as he blew on the mark, golden eyes fierce with protectiveness.
You smiled up at him, heart fluttering, and squeezed his hand. "I'm fine, thanks to you."
In these drawn-out exchanges, his affection unfolded like the petals of a sunbloom, attentive in the way he anticipated your needs, sweet in the stories he shared by the fire, his voice dropping low as he described hunts just to see your eyes widen. He'd draw you into his side during communal dances, his hand at the small of your back guiding your steps, bodies moving in sync under the bioluminescent glow.
You reciprocated with hugs goodbye after shared tasks, your cheek pressing to his chest, inhaling his scent, convincing yourself it was all just the warmth of friendship.
~
The bioluminescent glow of the evening settled over the Omatikaya village like a soft veil, vines pulsing with faint light as the clan gathered for the communal meal.
You wove through the crowd, your bare feet padding silently on the woven platforms, the sway of your hips subtle under the lightweight loincloth that hugged your curves.
Your azure skin caught the ethereal shimmer, highlighting the graceful taper of your waist and the gentle rise of your breasts beneath a top of supple leaves. Strands of your hair, adorned with tiny shells that clinked softly, fell in loose waves over one shoulder, framing your heart-shaped face where your amber eyes held a lingering warmth from the day's simple joys.
You spotted Neteyam near the central fire, his broad back turned momentarily as he conversed with a group of hunters. But then, as you drew closer, your steps faltered. He was leaning in toward a female Na'vi you'd seen only in passing.
Kalife.
The one whose voice enchanted the nights during celebrations, her songs weaving through the air like threads of moonlight. She was striking in her own right, her lithe form draped in a shawl of iridescent feathers that accentuated the elegant length of her limbs and the high arch of her brows. Her skin gleamed with a deeper cobalt hue, and her full mouth curved in easy laughter as she tilted her head, exposing the slender column of her throat.
Neteyam laughed a deep, resonant sound that rumbled from his chest, his golden eyes crinkling at the edges in a way you'd rarely seen, softened by an unfamiliar tenderness. A faint azure tint colored his cheeks, blooming across his sharp jawline, and he reached out to lightly touch her arm, his fingers lingering just a beat too long on the smooth expanse of her bicep.
They stood close, shoulders nearly brushing, the space between them charged with an intimacy that twisted something sharp in your gut.
Jealousy uncoiled like a viper in your chest, hot and insistent, mingling with a wave of insecurity that made your throat tighten.
Who was she to him?
You knew little beyond her reputation, the clan's finest singer, her melodies drawing sighs from even the sternest warriors during feasts. But seeing Neteyam like this, his usual guarded demeanor cracking into that rare blush, you couldn't help the assumption that solidified in your mind.
He liked her. Of course he did.
She was everything vibrant and captivating, while you'd been fooling yourself with his attentiveness, mistaking brotherly kindness for something more. Embarrassment flooded you, heating your face as you imagined how naive you'd been, reciprocating his touches and gifts like they meant what your heart had dared to hope.
You turned away abruptly, your tail flicking with agitation, and slipped back toward your family's marui without a word to anyone. The woven entrance flap closed behind you with a soft rustle, sealing you in the dim, vine-draped space.
For the next few days, you retreated fully, curling into your hammock with a blanket of furs pulled tight around your frame, the curve of your knees drawn to your chest as if to ward off the ache. Meals were brought by your mother, her concerned eyes tracing the shadows under yours, but you waved off questions with murmured excuses about fatigue from the heat.
On the second day, a familiar voice echoed from outside.
Neteyam's, low and laced with worry. "Is she alright? I brought some healing herbs from the lowlands, they ease any fever."
Your heart stuttered at the sound, but you pressed a hand to your mouth, nodding urgently to your parents.
Your father stepped out, his voice steady as he relayed your fabricated illness. "She's under the weather, Neteyam. A stomach ache from bad fruit. Best to let her rest."
You heard the hesitation in his tone, but he held firm, and after a pause filled with Neteyam's murmured concern. "Tell her I hope she feels better soon, please."
His footsteps retreated, leaving you with a pang of guilt that only deepened the hurt.
By the fourth day, the isolation gnawed at you, the marui's walls feeling too confining.
You emerged into the dappled sunlight, blinking against the brightness, your body moving with a deliberate stiffness as you gathered a heavy basket of woven fibers for the clan's repairs. The weight strained your arms, pulling at the lithe muscles of your shoulders, but you gripped it tighter, determined to manage alone.
That's when you saw him.
Neteyam crossing the platform, his stride purposeful, the harness across his torso accentuating the powerful V of his back and the ripple of his abs with each step. His braids swung gently, catching the light, and his gaze locked onto you immediately, concern etching lines around his mouth.
He quickened his pace, reaching out with an instinctive offer.
"Let me take that for you." He said, his voice warm but edged with that familiar protectiveness, his large hands already extending toward the basket.
In the past, he'd always insisted, lifting it effortlessly from your grasp with a teasing grin, his fingers brushing yours in the process, claiming it was no trouble to spare you the strain. But now, you stepped back, hoisting the load higher against your hip, the edge digging into your side.
"No, thank you, Neteyam." You replied coolly, your tone polite but distant, the sweetness drained from it like water from a cracked gourd.
Your eyes flicked away from his, focusing on the path ahead, and you walked on without waiting, the basket's weave creaking under your effort.
He froze for a moment, his extended hand dropping slowly, confusion flickering across his features, those sharp handsome planes tightening as he watched you go.
From his perspective, the shift hit like a sudden storm. The first day of your absence, he'd accepted the news of your sickness without question, lingering outside your marui with a bundle of fresh-picked leaves that promised relief, his mind replaying the easy laughter you'd shared just nights before.
But by the second day, unease settled in his gut, a quiet worry that gnawed as he patrolled the borders, his bow slung over his shoulder, eyes scanning the treetops more restlessly than usual.
Something felt off.
When you finally reappeared, the change was stark. Your avoidance of his help, that basket he'd carried a dozen times without fail struck him like a slap. He replayed his actions in his mind. The necklace, the gifts, the constant nearness.
Had he been too forward, pushing the boundaries of courtship too aggressively? Na'vi ways were subtle, but perhaps he'd overstepped, made you uncomfortable without realizing.
Worry coiled in his chest, making his breaths shallower during hunts, his focus splintering as he glanced back toward the village more often. He didn't approach again that day, respecting the invisible wall you'd raised, but he watched from afar, ensuring the path you took was clear of roots, his golden eyes tracking your form with a mix of longing and self-doubt.
At the communal dinners that followed, you enforced the distance with quiet resolve.
You chose seats on the far side of the fire pit, your posture straight and composed, legs tucked gracefully beneath you as you picked at your portions of smoked fish and roots. When Neteyam's gaze sought yours across the flames, you met it with a nod and a smile that didn't reach your eyes. It was polite, detached, the once-affectionate âTeyamâ replaced entirely by the formal âNeteyamâ in the rare instances you spoke.
"Pass the salt, Neteyam." You'd say evenly if needed, your voice stripped of its former lilt, and turn back to conversation with others, your fingers twisting a vine idly to avoid his stare.
One evening, as the fire crackled and stories flowed, you glanced up to see him settling beside Kalife and another lithe female from the weavers' circle, her features soft with rounded cheeks and eyes like polished amber.
He frowned briefly in your direction after your latest dismissal earlier, when he'd offered you a gourd of water, you'd taken it with a murmured thanks and no further engagement but then he turned to them, his shoulders relaxing into the group.
Kalife leaned in to whisper something, her hand gesturing animatedly, and though he didn't laugh this time, the sight of him there with a small soft smile, surrounded by her easy camaraderie, soured the warmth in your belly. Bitterness rose like bile, confirming the whirlwind of speculations in your head.
He had something with her, or at least the beginnings of it. Why else would he seek her company now, after your withdrawal?
You'd been a fool to bask in his attention, and the realization stung, sharpening your resolve to pull away further.
Neteyam felt the shift acutely, his confusion deepening into a persistent ache. He'd sought out Kalife only for advice on a melody she'd sung, a way to perhaps share it with you later, to draw you back with something light but your distant smiles and full-name address cut deeper than any blade. He wondered if his affections had overwhelmed you, if the beads in the necklace now felt like chains.
From across the camp, he continued his quiet care. Leaving a fresh-picked cluster of berries near your marui's entrance at dawn, hidden just enough to avoid intrusion, or positioning himself during patrols to overlook the paths you frequented, his lithe form perched on a branch, bow at the ready should any danger stir. But he held back from direct approach, uncertainty rooting him in place, his mind a tangle of worry.
Had he misread your reciprocation entirely?
The thought haunted his nights, sleep evading him as he stared at the canopy, heart heavy with the fear of having lost the quiet bond he'd cherished.
Meanwhile, you carried the hurt in silence, a jealous fire smoldering beneath your composed exterior. Each glimpse of him with Kalife, her laughter ringing out during a midday gathering, his head tilting attentively fueled the insecurity, whispering that you'd never been the one he wanted, just a convenient friend in his orbit. You believed it fully now, the embarrassment of your misinterpretation locking the pain in place.
Yet, beneath it all, you missed him fiercely, the solid warmth of his presence, the way his touches had made your days brighter.
In the quiet of your marui, you'd trace the necklace he gave you, fingers lingering on the beads that matched his braids, a secret ache blooming as you wondered what might have been if you'd been braver, or if he'd ever truly seen you that way. The distance stretched, a chasm of unspoken misunderstandings, leaving you both adrift in the village's rhythm, yearning across the divide.
The days blurred into a haze of unspoken tension, the village's vibrant hum fading into a dull echo for Neteyam.
He moved through his routines like a shadow of himself, sharpening arrows with mechanical precision, his callused fingers gripping the stone too tightly, or scouting the perimeter with a bow that felt heavier than usual across his sinewy shoulders. The once-vibrant spark in his golden eyes dimmed, replaced by a furrowed brow and a jaw set in quiet frustration. His lithe frame, honed from endless hunts, seemed to carry an invisible weight, his steps less assured as he navigated the woven bridges and fern-shrouded paths.
Sleep evaded him, leaving dark circles beneath his lashes, and even the clan's evening songs couldn't coax a smile from his lips.
His family noticed the shift immediately.
Jake's sharp gaze lingered during family meals, his own broad form leaning forward with unspoken concern, while Neytiri's ears twitched at his subdued responses, her elegant fingers pausing mid-gesture as she wove nets. The younger ones picked up on it too. Kiri's empathetic tilt of the head, Tuk's wide-eyed questions about why Teyam looks sad.
But it was Lo'ak who confronted him first, cornering him one afternoon near the edge of the training grounds, where the air hummed with the distant calls of ikran.
Lo'ak crossed his arms over his chest, his lean muscles flexing under his skin painted with fresh hunt markings, his braids swaying as he cocked his head.
"Skxawng, what the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded, his voice a mix of brotherly exasperation and genuine worry, eyes narrowing at Neteyam's slumped posture. âYou've been moping around like a hexapede with a thorn in its hoof. Energy's gone, poof. Spill it."
Neteyam sighed, running a hand through his braided locks, the beads clicking softly against each other. If it was any other day, he would have beaten Loâak for calling him that but right now, he just doesnât have the energy for it. He leaned against a sturdy tree trunk, its bark rough against his back, and met Lo'ak's gaze with a weary intensity.
"It's her." He admitted, the words tumbling out low and raw, his throat tightening around the confession. "She... dismissed me. Cold as the deep caves. Won't look at me, won't let me help, calls me by my full name like I'm some stranger. After everything, the hunts, the necklace, I thought... I don't know. Maybe I pushed too hard."
His voice cracked slightly on the last part, vulnerability etching lines across his handsome features, the high cheekbones and full lips that usually curved in confidence now drawn tight.
Lo'ak's expression softened, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He clapped a hand on Neteyam's shoulder, the gesture firm and grounding. "Bro, you're overthinking it like always. Guessing games? That's for dummies. Just talk to her straight up. Ask why she's acting like that. Can't fix what you don't face."
His tone was direct, laced with that reckless honesty that always cut through Neteyam's reservations, eyes gleaming with encouragement.
The advice lingered like a persistent vine as Neteyam ventured into the forest the next morning, the canopy filtering sunlight into golden shafts that danced across the mossy undergrowth.
He needed a quiet moment, away from the clan's watchful eyes, to gather his thoughts. But fate or perhaps Eywa's subtle nudge led him to you. Hidden among the thick foliage, his body low and still like a predator's, he watched as you knelt by a cluster of luminous blossoms, their petals unfurling in shades of violet and gold.
Your form was a vision in the dappled light.
Azure skin glowing with a soft sheen from the morning dew, the curve of your spine arching gracefully as you reached forward, fingers delicate yet sure plucking the stems. Your hair cascaded in loose, silken waves, catching flecks of pollen that sparkled like stars, and the gentle swell of your hips shifted with each movement, your loincloth whispering against your thighs. Beauty radiated from you effortlessly, a quiet allure that made his chest ache with longing.
He'd missed this, missed you, the way your presence lit something fierce and tender within him.
Heart pounding, he stepped forward, leaves crunching faintly under his feet, revealing himself with a soft rustle.
You startled slightly, your hand pausing mid-reach, but when your eyes flicked up, they darted away immediately, focusing on the flowers as if they held the secrets of the universe. Your tail curled tightly around your leg, a telltale sign of unease, and you rose slowly, brushing dirt from your knees with averted gaze.
"Why?" Neteyam asked, his voice steady but laced with a raw edge of hurt, stepping closer until the space between you hummed with tension. He towered gently over you, his broad chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, the scent of earth and sweat clinging to his skin from the trek. "Why are you avoiding me like this? Is it because you do not want me to continue courting you?"
The words hung heavy, direct and unyielding, his golden eyes searching your face with desperate clarity.
Shock rippled through you, widening your amber eyes as you finally met his stare, your lips parting in disbelief. The forest seemed to still around you, the distant chirps fading as his confession sank in, this was the first time the pieces aligned, his actions no longer platonic gestures but deliberate pursuits of your heart.
"Courting?" You echoed, voice breathy with surprise, a flush creeping up your neck to tint your cheeks. "You're... courting me?"
Neteyam's brows furrowed in confusion, his head tilting slightly, braids shifting like dark rivers over his shoulders. He took a half-step nearer, the heat of his body palpable, his expression a mix of bewilderment and earnest plea.
"Of course I am." He replied, tone deepening with frustration at the misunderstanding, his large hand gesturing vaguely to encompass the memories between you. "Was it not obvious? The portions I bring from every hunt, carved just for you. The woven necklace with beads pulled from my own braids, so you'd carry a piece of me? The way I linger close, touch your arm in passing, shield you from the rougher paths during patrols?"
His voice softened on the last, eyes tracing the line of your jaw, the curve of your mouth, as if memorizing you anew.
Surprise ebbed into a whirlwind of emotions. Embarrassment heating your skin, hurt uncoiling from where you'd buried it. You looked down, fingers twisting the stem of a flower, the petal's velvet texture grounding you.
"I... I thought you were just being kind." You admitted quietly, voice trembling with the vulnerability of it, your shoulders hunching slightly as if to shield your heart. "Like a brother, or a friend. After seeing you with her, with Kalife, I felt foolish for hoping more. Embarrassed that I'd misread everything."
A soft chuckle escaped Neteyam, low and rumbling from his chest, relief flooding his features as tension eased from his frame. He shook his head, a fond smile curving his lips, exasperation mingling with amusement in his gaze.
"My fault, too." He murmured, stepping fully into your space now, his presence warm and enveloping. "I should have spoken it plain from the start. You thought I didn't want you... after everything? Baby, you thought I was just being kind? Have you ever seen me do that âkindnessâ to anyone else other than you?"
He paused, voice dropping to a husky whisper, eyes locking onto yours with unwavering intensity.
"The gifts, the way I stay close, the way I... watch over you, even in the quiet moments? I donât do that for anyone else paskalin, only you."
His hand lifted, hesitating before gently cupping your cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin there, calluses rough yet tender.
Emboldened by his nearness, you pressed on, the jealousy spilling out like a dam breaking. "I saw you laughing with her, blushing. Close like you shared something special. It hurt, Neteyam. Made me think you'd chosen her, that I was never the one."
Your voice cracked, eyes glistening as you searched his face, the forest's humidity mirroring the mist in your gaze.
Neteyam's expression softened further, a gentle laugh bubbling up as he drew you nearer, his free hand capturing yours.
"I wasn't talking to her like that." He reassured, tone warm and steady, laced with a hint of playful denial. "I was asking for advice. I thought maybe you didn't want me, since you hadn't said yes to my pursuits."
He squeezed your fingers, his grip firm yet yielding.
"I only want you." His eyes sparkled with mirth, the earlier confusion dissolving into clarity. "Besides, she has a mate of her own, a woman from the weavers, just as stubborn as you."
In truth, that first encounter you'd witnessed had been Neteyam pouring out his insecurities to Kalife by the fire's edge.
"She hasn't acknowledged it." He'd confided, cheeks warming under her knowing gaze as she leaned in, her eyes teasing. "What if she doesn't see me that way?"
Kalife had grinned, her full lips quirking. "Then grow some balls and tell her outright then you'll be making babies with her under the stars soon enough.'
The blush youâve saw had been from her bold ribbing, not affection, and Kalife's reliability stemmed from her own mated life. Her partner, that pretty girl with the rounded features and amber eyes, waited nearby, their hands often clasped in quiet solidarity.
It was all platonic guidance, her experience a steady compass for Neteyam's fumbling heart.
And those frequent talks after your avoidance? More desperate queries. "Why does she pull away? What did I do wrong?"
Kalife had offered insights, her mate chiming in with nods, but in your pain-fueled haze, you'd missed the intertwined fingers of Kalife with the woman sitting next to her that you bypassed before as she talks with Neteyam, the casual leans of their shared life, seeing only threat where there was counsel.
Relief washed over you like a cool stream, warmth blooming in your chest, easing the knot that had tightened for days. Your body relaxed, shoulders dropping as a tentative smile curved your lips, the flower's stem forgotten in your grasp.
Neteyam sensed the shift, his thumb tracing your knuckles before he lifted your joined hands, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lips soft and lingering against your skin, breath warm and reassuring.
"You're mine." He whispered, voice thick with emotion, eyes half-lidded in quiet possession. "And I've been hoping you'd see it."
You laughed softly, the sound light and airy, embarrassment tinting your cheeks but overshadowed by bubbling happiness. Your free hand rose to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath the taut muscle.
"I guess I was too slow to notice." You replied, gaze lifting to meet his, vulnerability giving way to joy.
Neteyam's smile widened, radiant and full, as he pulled you flush against him, arms encircling your waist in a secure embrace. Your bodies aligned perfectly, his height enveloping you, the solid planes of his torso pressing to your softer curves.
"You don't have to assume anymore." He promised, voice a low rumble against your ear, one hand stroking down your back in soothing arcs. "I'll make sure you always know."
The forest enveloped you both, a private sanctuary where misunderstandings melted into certainty, the pretty flowers at your feet a silent witness to the mending of hearts.
hii iâve been reading your jake fics and iâve absolutely fallen in love with your writing ! i was wondering if youd write any more soon,no pressure btw! i have an idea about jealous and mean jake with a breeding kink đ¶âđ«ïžđ¶âđ«ïžđ”âđ«
âwell i donât want (y/n)â
pairings: 2009 jake sully x female na'vi reader
notes: a bit of angst with lots of delicious more than comfort, miscommunication trope, jake has a big dick, he fucking talks you through it, jake is one mean dirty talker iâm not even kidding with this, possessive jake, acquaintance to lovers, tsaheylu. my most delicious smut ever, breeding, marking, multiple rounds because jake is insatiable, creampie, messy eater jake, dom jake.
word count: 4.1k
prompt: youâve overheard neytiri telling jake he needs to have a mate soon and she mentions how you were the best singer in the clan, only for your heart to break when you hear him say âwell i donât want (y/n).â
authorâs note: guys i love jake here and i think this is my fave smut that i did, hope yâall love him here.
main masterlist | jake sully masterlist
credits to @uzmacchiato (divider)
From the moment Neytiri led that strange newcomer into the heart of your Omatikaya clan, your eyes had been drawn to him like vines seeking sunlight.
Jake Sully, the dreamwalker turned Na'vi, moved with an awkward grace that belied his growing strength, his broad shoulders rolling under azure skin, tail flicking with unpracticed curiosity.
You watched him during communal hunts, your heart quickening whenever his golden gaze lingered on you amid the crowd, a soft smile curving his full lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made your stomach flutter. It wasn't just his exotic origins, it was the quiet intensity in how he observed the world, how he'd pause mid-stride to trace the bioluminescent patterns on a leaf with callused fingers.
Paths crossed often in the woven walkways of the Great Tree.
One afternoon, as you balanced a basket of fresh hexapede hides on your hip, the weight straining the lithe muscles of your arms, he appeared at your side without a word. His large hand enveloped the handle alongside yours, easing the load as if it were nothing, the warmth of his palm seeping through your skin.
"Here, let me." He said, voice a low rumble that vibrated through you, his breath carrying the faint scent of earth and exertion. Up close, his features were even more striking, the sharp angle of his jaw dusted with faint scars, ears twitching slightly as he tilted his head. "I'm Jake. Jake Sully."
You swallowed, heat rising to your cheeks as you met those piercing eyes, your own lashes fluttering against the high curve of your cheekbones.
"(Y/N)." You replied, voice steadier than you felt, the elegant line of your neck arching as you shifted the basket.
His smile deepened, revealing a flash of teeth, and for a moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath around you.
But illusions shattered under the glow of the Tree of Voices that night. Drawn by the soft murmurs echoing through the hanging vines, you crept closer, your bare feet silent on the mossy ground.
Neytiri stood before Jake, her lithe form draped in sheer fabrics that clung to the swell of her hips and the gentle rise of her breasts, the material translucent in the ethereal light, as if woven to entice. Her tail swayed languidly, eyes locked on his with a hunger that twisted something sharp in your gut.
"It is time for you to choose a mate, Jake." She said, her voice a sultry whisper laced with expectation, leaning in so her braided hair brushed his arm. "Once you pass your Iknimaya, the clan will expect it. Strength for strength."
You pressed against a glowing trunk, heart pounding, the cool bark pressing into the soft curve of your shoulder. Neytiri's hand trailed lightly down his chest before she turn around to look away from him. "(Y/N) is the best singer in the clan."
Your breath hitched, hope flickering as you waited for his response. But when it came, it was a casual dismissal that pierced like an arrow.
"Well, I donât want (Y/N)."
You saw Neytiri's lips curved in relief, a soft exhale escaping her, but you couldn't bear it. Tears stung your eyes as you turned and fled, the forest blurring around you, vines whipping at your legs.
The pain bloomed hot in your chest, months of stolen glances, reduced to nothing.
Two days passed in a haze of deliberate distance. Where once your gaze sought him out during meals or training, now you wove through the clan with eyes downcast, the sway of your hips hurried as you avoided the central platforms. The hurt festered, a quiet ache that made even the songs of the ikran feel hollow.
Deep in the forest, far from the clan's hum, you sought solace among the twisting roots and dappled light.
Your attire was simple for the heat, a beaded top that draped loosely over your full breasts, the strands barely concealing the dark peaks of your nipples, shifting with each step to reveal teasing glimpses of azure skin. The loincloth rode low on your hips, hugging the firm roundness of your ass and the sensitive folds of your pussy, the thin material damp from the humidity and your unresolved turmoil.
Footsteps crunched behind you, and you glanced up, straightening from where you'd been examining a cluster of luminous fungi.
Raixte emerged from the foliage, his tall frame cutting an imposing silhouette, muscles honed from leading hunts rippling under striped skin, his dark braids adorned with feathers that caught the breeze. His eyes, a deep amber, roamed over you with open appreciation, lingering on the way your top clung to the underside of your breasts.
"(Y/N)." He greeted, voice smooth and warm, stepping closer until the scent of his sweat-mingled musk enveloped you. "Wandering alone? Dangerous for someone so... captivating."
He flashed a charming grin, fangs glinting, as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing the delicate shell.
You hesitated, the flirtation a balm to your wounded pride.
"Just needed air, Raixte." You replied, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes, your tail curling slightly in uncertainty.
But as he complimented the grace of your movements during the last hunt, drawing parallels to Eywa's own elegance, you let the conversation flow, leaning into the attention. Hurt made you reckless. If Jake had chosen Neytiri, perhaps it was time to open your heart elsewhere.
Raixte's hand brushed your arm, electric and bold, and you didn't pull away.
Unseen, a pair of furious golden eyes burned from the shadows. Jake's jaw clenched, fists balled at his sides, the veins in his forearms standing out as rage coiled through him like a viper.
Raixte leaned in, his breath hot against your cheek, lips parting as if to claim a kiss, his hand settling possessively on your waist, fingers splaying over the dip of your hip.
A sharp clearing of the throat shattered the moment. Jake stepped forward, his massive form eclipsing the light, expression carved from stone, eyes narrowed to slits, tail lashing like a whip.
"Raixte." He said, voice flat and commanding. "Tsu'teyâs been looking for you. Urgent."
There was something in his eyes that told you he was lying and you were pissed.
Raixte straightened, brow furrowing in confusion, but he nodded curtly. "I'll go see."
His gaze flicked to you apologetically before he vanished into the undergrowth.
You whirled on Jake, fury igniting in your veins, chest heaving so the beads of your top danced against your skin. "What the hell was that? You lied, he wasn't looking for him!"
Jake's face remained unreadable, a mask of controlled storm, his broad chest rising steadily as he ignored your questions. "Do you like him?"
The audacity hit you like a slap.
You scoffed, lips twisting in disdain, the elegant column of your throat working as you swallowed bile.
"None of your business." You snapped, turning on your heel, the loincloth shifting against your thighs with the motion.
His large hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your upper arm in a grip that was firm but not bruising, yanking you back against the solid wall of his chest.
Heat radiated from him, his heartbeat thundering through you. "I asked if you like him, yawne?"
The endearment only fueled your anger.
You twisted in his hold, glaring up at him, your nails digging into his wrist. "Why does it matter? I heard you loud and clear at the Tree of Voices. Telling Neytiri you donât want me!"
Confusion flickered across his features, brows knitting together, the faint scars on his brow ridge creasing. "What?"
You wrenched free, stepping back, voice mocking as you threw his words in his face. "(Y/N) is the best singer in the clan. Well, I donât want (Y/N). Rings any bell, Jake Sully?"
His expression shifted, darkening into something predatory, a mean smirk curling his lips, eyes gleaming with a mix of irritation and dark amusement.
He advanced, towering over you, one hand bracing against the tree trunk beside your head, caging you in. "Eavesdropping on private talks, huh? But you didnât even bother to stick around for the rest, did you?"
You blinked, pulse racing, the proximity making your skin prickle. "What rest?"
Jake's smirk widened, voice dropping to a gravelly purr. "I told her I donât want you... because I need you. Turned Neytiri down flat, she's been circling me like prey, but it's you I've been watching. You I've been smiling at. You I dream about every damn night."
His free hand ghosted down your side, thumb brushing the edge of your beaded top, sending sparks skittering across your nerves.
"Oh." You breathed, the word barely audible, heat flooding your face as realization dawned, your body softening against the tree despite the whirlwind in your mind.
His gaze raked over you then. Starting at your flushed cheeks, down the slender curve of your neck, to the scant coverage of your top where your breasts strained against the beads, nipples hardening under his scrutiny. Lower still, to the loincloth that molded to your pussy, the outline of your folds visible through the damp fabric.
Fury reignited in his eyes at the thought of Raixte's hands on you, jaw ticking. "But seeing that hunter all over you? Makes me wanna mark every inch so no one else even thinks about it."
He was condescending in his jealousy, voice laced with nasty possession, but the bulge straining against his own loincloth betrayed how turned on he was, it was thick and insistent.
Before you could respond, his mouth crashed down on yours, the kiss bruising and demanding, tongue invading with a growl that vibrated through your lips. His hands roamed greedily, one cupping the back of your head to angle you deeper, fingers threading through your hair to tug sharply, the other shoving aside your top to palm your breast, thumb flicking the pebbled nipple harshly enough to make you yelp into his mouth.
You gasped, body arching instinctively, the rough bark scraping your back as he pressed closer, his erection grinding against your thigh with deliberate pressure, the heat of it searing through the thin fabric. He broke the kiss only to trail hot, open-mouthed bites down your neck, sucking marks into the sensitive skin, dark blooms that would linger as reminders of his claim while his fingers pinched and rolled your nipple, twisting just enough to border on pain, drawing whimpers from your throat that made his cock twitch against you.
"Look at you." He murmured against your collarbone, voice mean and taunting, breath hot and ragged as he nipped the tender flesh there. "Dressed like a little slut in the woods, letting some low-rank hunter put his hands on you. Were you gonna spread these legs for him? Let him taste what's mine?"
He yanked the beads aside fully, exposing both breasts to the cool air, the sudden exposure making your nipples tighten further into aching points. Without pause, he latched onto one peak sucking hard, teeth grazing the sensitive areola, tongue swirling with wet obscene sounds that echoed in the quiet forest. His free hand kneaded the other breast roughly, fingers digging into the soft mound, squeezing until you squirmed, a mix of pleasure and sting shooting straight to your core.
Your hands fisted in his braids, pulling him closer despite the harshness, your pussy clenching emptily as arousal dripped down your thighs.
"Jake." You moaned, voice breaking, the sound needy and desperate, your hips rolling unconsciously against his thigh for friction.
He chuckled darkly against your skin, the vibration sending jolts through you, before switching to the neglected breast, lavishing it with the same brutal attention, sucking until it was swollen and slick with his saliva, teeth scraping just hard enough to make tears prick your eyes.
"These perfect tits." He growled, pulling back to admire his work, the globes heaving with your labored breaths, marked with faint red imprints from his mouth. "Been dreaming of burying my face in them for months. But now? Now I'm gonna ruin them. Gonna fuck you so hard they bounce, then fill 'em with milk when you're swollen with my kid. You want that, don't you? To be bred like the needy little thing you are?"
The words hit you like fire, shame and desire twisting in your gut, your cheeks burning as you nodded, unable to form words, your tail wrapping around his leg in silent plea.
He smirked, smug and condescending, eyes dark with lust as he pushed you harder against the tree, his body pinning yours, the scent of his arousal mixing with the earthy air.
With a swift, possessive motion, he dropped to his knees, his large hands shoving your thighs apart roughly, nails scraping the inner skin as he spread you wide. The loincloth was tugged aside carelessly, the thin strip snapping against your hip before he bared your dripping folds to his gaze. You felt exposed, vulnerable, your pussy glistening in the dappled light, clit throbbing under his intense stare. His nose pressed against your mound first, inhaling deeply, your scent musky and sweet, intoxicating like the forbidden fruits of Pandora, making him groan low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut in raw bliss as his cock strained painfully against his loincloth.
"Fuck, yawne." He rasped, voice thick with nastiness. "You smell like sin. Like my personal addiction. Bet that hunter would've killed for a whiff, but too bad he doesn't get to drown in this pussy. Only I do."
His tongue darted out, tracing a slow, deliberate line from your entrance to your clit, lapping up the slick that coated your folds, the flat of it pressing firm and insistent. You shuddered, knees weakening, a whine escaping as he sealed his lips around your clit, sucking with greedy pulls that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
He ate you like a man possessed, messy and unrestrained, tongue plunging deep into your channel, curling to stroke your inner walls, then withdrawing to lap broad, sloppy strokes through your lips, slurping noisily at the arousal that leaked steadily, coating his chin and dripping down his neck. His fingers dug into the plush flesh of your ass, spreading you obscenely wider, one thumb circling your tight rear entrance teasingly, pressing just enough to make you gasp in shock and illicit pleasure.
"Taste so fucking good." He mumbled against your core, words vibrating through your sensitive flesh. "Sweeter than anything Eywa ever made. But you're dripping for me now, aren't you? Because deep down, you knew you were mine. Knew you'd come crawling back after teasing me with that bullshit flirtation."
You moaned, hips bucking wildly, one hand braced on his shoulder, nails scoring the taut ridges of muscle there, the other tangled in his queue, tugging in rhythm with his laps.
He groaned in response, the sound animalistic, as he buried his face deeper, nose bumping your clit rhythmically while his tongue speared inside again, fucking you with it in short, wet thrusts. Saliva mixed with your juices, the lewd sounds filling the air, slurps and smacks that made your face flame with embarrassment, but he didn't care, only dove in harder, his free hand sliding up to pinch your clit between thumb and forefinger, rolling it meanly until you were sobbing with the intensity.
"Jake please." You begged, voice hoarse, tears of overwhelming sensation streaking your cheeks, your body trembling on the precipice. "I need... I need you inside."
He pulled back slightly, lips shiny and swollen, eyes blazing with cruel satisfaction as he licked your essence from them. "Need what? My cock? Say it, yawne. Beg like the desperate slut who almost let another male touch her."
His fingers replaced his mouth, two thick digits thrusting in roughly, curling to hit that spongy spot inside, scissoring to stretch you while his thumb ground against your clit.
"Your cock please, breed me." You cried, the words tumbling out in a rush, humiliation burning hot as your walls clenched around his invading fingers, chasing release.
"Good girl." He snarled, withdrawing his hand with a wet pop, rising to his full height.
He shed his loincloth in one fluid motion, his thick cock springing free, heavy and veined, the length curving slightly upward, head flushed a deep purple and beading with precum that trailed down the shaft. It slapped against his abs with a wet smack, the sheer size of it making your mouth water and your pussy ache in anticipation. He gripped the base, rubbing the girth along your sopping slit teasingly, the velvety head nudging your entrance, parting your folds but not entering, coating himself in your slick while he watched your face contort with need.
"Feel that?" He taunted, voice low and vicious, hips rolling to drag his cock through your wetness, the friction making you whimper as it bumped your clit repeatedly. "This fat cock that's gonna split you open. Gonna fuck you raw until you're screaming my name, until every inch of you reeks of me. And when I cum? It's staying deep, gonna breed this tight little cunt, pump you so full you'll be leaking for days. No more flirting, no more running. You're mine to fill, mine to knock up."
The dirty promises sent a fresh gush of arousal from you, your hands clutching his biceps, feeling the corded strength flex under your palms.
"Yes Jake, do it. Claim me." You pleaded, eyes locked on his, vulnerability raw in your gaze.
He plunged in with one brutal thrust, the stretch burning deliciously as he bottomed out, your walls fluttering around his thickness, accommodating the invasion with a mix of pain and ecstasy.
"Fuck." He groaned, head falling to your shoulder, teeth sinking into the muscle there as he held still, savoring the vice-like grip. "So goddamn tight, like you were carved for my dick. Feel how you're squeezing? Begging for my seed already."
He set a punishing pace immediately, hips snapping forward with controlled ferocity, balls slapping against your ass with each deep drive, the tree shaking behind you from the force. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, fingers spanning the width of your waist as he pulled you onto him, dictating every movement.
"Take it." He grunted, voice strained with effort, sweat beading on his brow and trickling down the defined planes of his chest. "Take every fucking inch, yawne. This is what you get for making me jealous, for thinking you could give this to anyone else."
You cried out, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, heels digging into his lower back to urge him deeper, your breasts bouncing with each jolt, nipples grazing his chest hair. Pleasure built in waves, coiling tight in your belly, his mean words only heightening the sensations, making you feel owned, desired in the filthiest way.
"Harder please, Jake." You gasped, nails raking down his back, leaving red trails that made him hiss in approval.
"Greedy little thing." He mocked, one hand sliding up to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, just holding, thumb stroking your pulse point possessively. "You love this, don't you? Being used like my personal fucktoy. Gonna make you cum so hard you forget his name."
His thrusts angled to hit your g-spot relentlessly, the head of his cock dragging over it with precision born of obsession.
The orgasm ripped through you without warning, walls convulsing around him, milking his length as you keened his name, vision whiting out, body seizing in bliss. He didn't stop, pounding through it, prolonging the waves until you were oversensitive, sobbing from the intensity.
"That's it, cum on my cock." He snarled, pace faltering as his own release neared, hips stuttering. With a roar that echoed through the trees, he buried himself to the hilt, flooding you with hot spurts of cum, grinding deep to push it further, his body shuddering against yours. "Take my seed, every drop. Gonna breed you, yawne. Fill you up until you're carrying my child."
But he wasn't done.
Panting, he pulled out slowly, a gush of his release mixed with your slick trailing down your thighs, and spun you around, bending you over a low, moss-covered root. Your hands splayed on the soft ground for purchase, ass presented high, the position making you feel utterly exposed as he kicked your legs wider.
"Look at that." He said, voice dripping with condescension, palming the firm globes of your ass, spreading them to watch his cum leak from your pussy. "Already messy from me. But we're not finished, gonna fuck this cum back in, make sure it sticks."
He thrust back in from behind, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper, his hips slamming against your ass with wet smacks, the sound obscene in the forest hush. One hand fisted in your hair, pulling your head back to arch your spine, the other snaked around to rub furious circles on your clit.
"Feel that, baby? My cock owning this pussy. You're gonna be so full, so bred, no room for anyone else's touch." His words were nasty, laced with jealousy-fueled venom, but underneath, you felt the depth of his possession, the raw emotion making your heart clench even as your body burned.
Tears of overwhelming feeling streamed down your face, mixing pleasure with the sting of his dominance, but you pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, whispering, "Only yours, always."
The admission seemed to break something in him, his rhythm growing erratic, grunts turning to pleas as he chased another peak.
He flipped you again, this time pulling you to the forest floor on a bed of soft ferns, settling you in his lap facing him, guiding your hips down onto his still-hard cock with hands that trembled slightly from exertion. You rode him slowly at first, thighs flexing with the effort, the muscles in your core tightening as you ground down, circling your hips to feel him everywhere.
But he took control quickly, thrusting up viciously, one arm banded around your back to hold you flush, the other kneading your breast, pinching the nipple until you arched with a cry.
"Ride me harder." He demanded, eyes locked on yours, golden depths swirling with lust and something softer. Love, fierce and unyielding. "Show me how much you want my babies. Milk this cock dry."
His dirty talk continued, mean edges sharpening.
"Bet you'd look so pretty pregnant. Tits heavy, belly round with what I put in you. No more wandering off, no more doubts. You're locked to me now."
Through the haze of building ecstasy, he reached for your queue, his own brushing yours in the sacred tsaheylu, an electric bond snapping into place like lightning.
His emotions surged through you. Raw, consuming love, the burning truth of his jealousy, the depth of his need to claim and protect, no deception, only unfiltered passion that mirrored your own. It heightened everything, your shared pleasure echoing in your minds, sensations doubling as you felt his thrusts from both sides, your body and his soul.
The connection shattered your restraint.
You came again, harder, walls pulsing around him in rhythmic squeezes, crying out as the bond amplified the bliss to near-painful levels. He followed immediately, spilling deep with a guttural moan, hips jerking as he emptied another load, the warmth spreading through you, sealing the bond in cum and emotion.
For the final round, he laid you on your back, hooking your legs over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half as he loomed above, sliding back in with a slow, deliberate push that made you both groan. The position was intimate, his face inches from yours, allowing him to watch every expression as he rolled his hips, grinding deep rather than thrusting, ensuring his seed stayed buried.
"Feel me, yawne?" He whispered, voice rough but laced with tenderness now, forehead pressing to yours. "My love, it's real. Every word, every thrust. You're everything."
His pace built gradually, the nastiness fading into focused intensity, hands roaming your body with reverence, tracing the curve of your hip, the swell of your breast while he murmured praises mixed with commands.
"Cum with me one more time. Let me breed you properly."
The bond thrummed between you, sharing the climb, and when release hit, it was mutual, bodies locking together as he flooded you again, your pussy clenching to hold him, the shared ecstasy washing away all doubt.
Spent, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, the meanness evaporating like mist. His lips found yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, gentle nips turning to soft presses, tongue tracing yours tenderly, a stark contrast to the earlier ferocity.
"Mine, baby." He whispered against your mouth, hand splaying over your lower belly, fingers gentle now. "Forever."
You melted into him, the forest whispering approval around your entwined forms, the ache in your heart finally healed, replaced by a warmth that promised eternity.
itâs so weird seeing ppl complaining abt how a writer writes canon characters. yes they have their canon personality but creativity isnât limited to writing inside the box. these amazing writers are free to explore these characters in a different light and different themes, they are free to portray a canon character differently from what we are used to and what we watch on screen or read on the books. thatâs what writing is all about, to write and delve onto things we have never imagined these characters to do or say. if yâall donât like how they portrayed the character in a certain theme then scroll/block and stop making posts that those authors will definitely see once they scroll under the tags of the characters they are writing abt.
if they write a character cheating who is known to canonically love their wife/husband sm does not mean they donât know that, they just want to explore an alternate reality where they are possible to do so. if they write a character as a playboy who is known to be nice does not mean they donât see that, again they just want to explore other realities for those canon character. if they write a character whoâs so innocent to do godforsaken things then theyâre just exploring the character in their own portrayal.
and itâs funny that yâall make it seem as if itâs a crime whenever these writers stray from canon.
to all these writers, thank you so much for writing and we admire yâall for giving different portrayals to these characters we love sm. please donât let ppls opinions make you stop writing. you are the ones who write so hard while we just read your works for free. thank you for your service!
THIS!!! to all the amazing writers in this fandom (some i see are experiencing burn out because of comments, life in general, etc.) i hope you never stop writing! you all inspired me to write with how great all of your works are. thank you for letting us read your works for free and updating even if you all have your own lives đđ»ââïžđ
pairings: aged up neteyam x mangkwan female reader
notes: obsessed neteyam, gradual dark neteyam, reader is varangâs mean younger sister, manipulation, angst/comfort, miscommunication trope, forbidden lovers, neteyam is a literal yearner, reader is realistic, love at first sight for neteyam, selective amnesia, reader is disgusted by neteyamâs demon blood, betrayal, smut & suggestive themes, p in v sex, themes of noncon & dubcon, breeding, spitting, tummy bulge, big dick neteyam.
word count: 34.5k (i literally have no brain juice anymore)
prompt: from the moment you had your blade pressed against his neck, all he could think of was how beautiful you are. he does not care if youâre a mangkwan and he does not care if you are disgusted by him, you are what he wants even if he has to go to extreme lengths to get you.
The dense canopy of Pandora's forest filtered the midday sun into dappled shafts of light casting shifting patterns on the undergrowth as Neteyam soared above on his ikran. His form honed by years of vigilant scouting, blended seamlessly with the creature's sleek blue hide, his golden eyes scanning the perimeters of Omatikaya territory with unwavering focus. The wind whipped through his braided hair carrying the earthy scent of moss and distant rain but today, an unfamiliar tension hummed in the air like Eywa herself was holding her breath.
A flicker of movement below caught his sharp gaze. A cluster of Na'vi figures darting through the underbrush, their movements predatory and coordinated. He signaled his ikran with a subtle shift of his thighs and the beast banked sharply, descending in a controlled spiral toward a concealed ledge. Wings folded with a soft rustle as he dismounted, his bare feet silent on the mossy ground. Crouching behind a thick fern and bow already in hand, Neteyam peered through the leaves, his heart steady but alert.
What he witnessed chilled him.
A raiding party from the Mangkwan clan of fierce warriors painted in ritualistic ash, their bodies smeared with the dark residue of volcanic soil that marked their savage tradition. They had ambushed a small group of Olangi travelers. The Olangi clan, a peaceful foragers from a neighboring grove, were outnumbered and overwhelmed, their pleas echoing faintly through the trees. The Mangkwans moved with brutal efficiency, spears glinting as they subdued their prey but it was the figure at the center that seized Neteyam's breath.
You.
Leading the raid with an air of unchallenged authority, your form cut an intoxicating silhouette against the chaos. Ash coated your skin like a second hide, obscuring the true hue beneath in swirling patterns that accentuated the sharp angles of your jaw. Even veiled in grime, your beauty pierced through with full lips curved in a predatory smile and eyes like smoldering embers, scanning the fray with calculated glee. Your body was clad in minimal hides, a beaded top that strained against the soft perky swell of your breasts, rising and falling with each commanding breath, and a loincloth that hugged the firm curve of your hips revealing toned legs braced for action.
Neteyam found himself entranced, curiosity gnawing at him. What lay under that ash? Smooth azure skin perhaps, glowing with the vitality of your clan or something rarer, more alluring?
But beauty masked cruelty.
He watched as you circled a kneeling Olangi male, his kuru held taut by one of your warriors.
The victim's pleas tumbled out in desperate sobs. "Please we mean no harm. Eywa, mercy!"
Your laughter rang out, mean and cutting, a sharp trill that sliced through the air like a blade. "Your goddess has no dominion here."
It wasn't joyous, it was mocking and laced with sadistic delight as you raised your obsidian knife, the edge catching the light. The Mangkwans deferred to you utterly, their eyes on you as if you were their spiritual guide yet Neteyam knew you werenât the clanâs leader.
During a prior scouting run with his father, Jake had pointed out Varang, the true TsahĂŹk of the Mangkwans. Tall and imposing with an aura of unyielding command. That wasn't you. So who were you? Varang's kin perhaps her younger sister, wielding influence through blood ties? Or a favored enforcer, a prized weapon in her arsenal? The mystery only deepened his fixation, his gaze lingering on the way your ash-streaked arms flexed, muscles coiling like vines ready to strike.
The Olangi's kuru dangled vulnerably, the warrior presenting it for your ritual severing. A fate worse than death was severing one's bond with Eywa. Neteyam's jaw tightened with a surge of protectiveness igniting in his chest and he couldn't stand by. Nocking an arrow with fluid precision, he drew back the bowstring with the familiar creak grounding him. His aim was true, released with a whisper, the shaft flew straight and embedding in the hand of the Mangkwan holding the kuru. The warrior yelped dropping the kuru as blood welled while the Olangi collapsed in shock.
You hissed sharply in a venomous sound that reverberated through the trees, your head snapping toward the underbrush where the arrow had originated. Your ember eyes narrowed, piercing the foliage as if you could will the shadows to part. Though the leaves concealed him, your stare felt like it locked onto his golden ones, a challenge unspoken.
Neteyam held his breath, pulse thundering in his ears.
"How amusing." You chuckled lowly, the sound dripping with dark amusement with the thrill of the hunt sparking in your veins, your lips twisting into a smirk that revealed sharp canines.
Shifting your attention, you glanced at the injured warrior clutching his hand with pain etching his features.
"Tend to that." You dismissed him with a wave of your hand, voice cool and authoritative boredom masking your intrigue.
No time for weakness in my ranks.
Grinning to yourself with a secretive curve of your mouth that hinted at games yet to play, you barked orders to your group. "Retreat! Take what we came for."
The Mangkwans obeyed instantly, their weaponâs clubs thudding against Olangi skulls to knock them unconscious. Greedy hands snatching woven satchels of herbs, glowing crystals, and carved totems as prizes of the raid. They melted into the forest like smoke but you lingered a moment, casting one final lingering look toward Neteyam's hiding spot. Your smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with promise of a predator sensing prey nearby before you turned, your form vanishing into the green.
Neteyam exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a heartbeat as his muscles uncoiled with relief washing over him. Slumping against the fern, he berated his caution for being too close and too reckless. The raid's echoes faded leaving only the rustle of leaves.
Then cold steel kissed his throat.
His golden eyes flew open, meeting yours up close. Sadistic glee swirling in their depths like storm clouds over the sea. You had circled silently, a shadow among shadows, your blade now pressed under his chin, tilting his head back against the earth. The ash on your face cracked slightly with your predatory smile, revealing glimpses of smoother skin beneath that was flushed with exertion.
The bow and arrows lay discarded beside him, the telltale fletching matching the one that embedded in your warrior's hand.
"Nice shot, forest boy." You purred, voice laced with mocking admiration and excitement bubbling beneath the snarl, your breath warm against his skin. "Had a good time interrupting my fun?"
He didn't answer, lips pressed into a thin line, inwardly cursing his lapse. How had you slipped past? His body tensed beneath you but he held still and assessing.
You tsked, a sharp disappointed sound, your snarl twisting your features as you surged forward. With effortless strength, you pinned him to the ground. Your knee digging into his abdomen, the blade you held angling deeper. Its tip pricking his flesh just enough to draw a thin bead of blood. The metallic tang mingled with the forest's humidity, your weight settling over him dominantly, your thighs clamping his waist in a vise of muscle and heat.
From this vantage, you were breathtaking.
The ash smeared across your cheeks like war paint but the proximity unveiled nuances. The delicate slope of your nose, the way your braids framed your face and swaying with each controlled breath. Your body pressed against his firm one, soft perky breasts heaving through the scant hide while your thighs hugged him possessively, the firm ridges of your muscle flexing. The loincloth you wore rode up slightly in the struggle, teasing the shadowed juncture between your legs in a forbidden glimpse that stirred something primal in him.
Neteyam's gaze betrayed him, trailing downward despite the danger. Over the generous curve of your breasts, your nipples faintly outlined against the fabric from the adrenaline rush then to the powerful expanse of your thighs gripping him like you owned him already.
You hissed again, low and threatening as irritation flared hot in your being, the sound vibrating through your chest as you caught his wandering eyes. Leaning in closer with your blade steady, your face hovered inches from his. "I'll cut your throat for that."
He stared up at you dazed, the world narrowing to the beauty before him. The cruel spark in your eyes, the subtle sheen of sweat tracing a path down your neck.
Words escaped him before he could cage them, his voice rough with unintended awe. "You're beautiful."
Your eyes widened fractionally, the sadistic gleam flickering with surprise as an unwelcome heat coiled low despite yourself but you didn't falter. The blade nicked deeper against his skin, a warning as you ground your hips down experimentally, testing his resolve.
"Flattery won't save you, skxawng." You snarled though your voice held a husky edge, your curiosity warring with the cruelty you held.
The pressure of your body against his sent unwelcome sparks through both of you. His cock twitching involuntarily beneath the confines of his own coverings, your breath hitching as you felt it.
Neteyam's hands, bound by instinct not to fight yet, flexed at his sides, his golden eyes locked on yours now and unflinching. The forest seemed to hold its breath around you, the distant calls of ikran fading into irrelevance. He could smell the ash on you mingled with the wild scent of your skin, it was earthy and intoxicating.
"Why do they follow you like that?" He asked, voice steady despite the blade, deflecting while his mind raced.
Attraction bloomed dark and insistent in him, a shadow creeping over his usual honor. You weren't just beautiful, you were a storm and he found himself drawn to the eye.
You laughed then in a mean throaty sound that vibrated against him, amusement laced with dark promise shrouding it as you tilted your head to study him like prey. "Maybe you're not as foolish as you look."
Your free hand trailed down his chest, nails scraping lightly over his toned abdomen feeling the ridges of his muscle tense. The touch was teasing and cruel, testing boundaries that doesnât seem to exist anymore. Your breasts brushed his chest with the movement softly and enticingly, the ash transferring in faint streaks to his skin.
He swallowed hard, your blade's edge a razor reminder but his body betrayed him as his hips shifted subtly upward seeking more friction from you.
"Let me go." He murmured, though it lacked conviction as desire thread through the plea. His eyes darkening as they traced the curve of your hip and the way your loincloth shifted hinting at the heat of your cunt beneath.
"And miss this?" You countered, voice dripping with sadistic playfulness as the thrill of power surged, pressing the blade just enough to draw another drop of blood from him.
But your eyes, those ember depths, held his. A challenge, an invitation to the darkness you both sensed brewing. The raid's adrenaline still pumped through your veins, mingling with this unexpected tension, your thighs tightening around him as if to claim victory.
Neteyam's breath came ragged now, the softness of your form contrasting the hardness of your intent, igniting a fire he hadn't anticipated. In that moment amidst the ash and threat, the future Olo'eyktan's resolve cracked with a darker hunger awakening for the woman who could lead with cruelty and beauty in equal measure. The forest watched as a silent witness to the spark that could and would inevitably consume you both.
"Who are you?" He repeated, his voice a low rumble with frustration edged in fascination, refusing to yield even as the steel bit into his skin. "Why do they follow you?"
You tilted your head slowly, braids swaying like dark serpents against your ash-smeared shoulders, your expression an enigma. Your eyes were narrowed to slits, unreadable as the depths of a hidden cenote. The motion caused your torso to shift, the beaded strands of your top grazing his chest once again with a whisper of friction, your soft curves molding briefly against the hard planes of his warrior's build.
After a deliberate pause, you leaned in closer, lips parting to reveal the edge of your teeth.
"I am Varang's younger sister." You murmured, voice smooth as polished obsidian and a hint of pride sharpening the words. "Her Tsakarem."
The revelation hung between you like a taut bowstring as Neteyam's mind raced.
Tsakarem, the heir apparent, groomed to ascend if fate claimed Varang. High standing indeed, woven into the spiritual fabric of the Mangkwan with threads of power and ritual. Your authority made sense now, the way your warriors had deferred, their eyes alight with reverence. But it also sparked unwelcome questions in him. Were you already mated? Bound in tsaheylu to some brutal consort, your being entwined with another?
A surge of fury clawed at his chest but he shoved it down, his jaw clenching as he focused on the way your thighs still gripped his sides, their toned length flexing with subtle control. Your eyes flicked to his face catching the flicker of turmoil and you pressed the knife deeper, the edge singing against his flesh as the thrill of dominance coursed through you.
"What clan are you from?" You demanded, your breath ghosting over his cheek, warm and laced with the metallic tang of anticipation.
"Omatikaya." He answered, voice steady despite the sting, his gaze never leaving yours, golden depths locking with ember ones.
You threw your head back and laughed, the sound rich and mocking as it echoed through the undergrowth.
"Oh, the clan of that tawtute turned Na'vi?" You sneered lowering your face again, your lips curling in contempt. "The clan of Toruk Makto?"
"He's my father." Neteyam replied with a quiet defiance threading his tone, his pride warring with the vulnerability of your proximity as his hands twitching at his sides resisting the urge to reach up and trace the curve of your jaw.
Your grin widened, sharp and predatory, teeth flashing as you savored the revelation, a spark of malicious delight igniting. The expression transformed your features, your cheekbones sharpening and your full lips stretching over a sadistic curve making you appear even more alluring in your cruelty.
"Ah, so you're a filthy sky demon then." You hissed, voice dripping with revulsion, loathing twisting like a vine in your gut at his unpure lineage. "How disgusting."
His heart clenched painfully at the look in your eyes.
Pure unfiltered disgust as if he were tainted by his human heritage, as if heâs unworthy of the ground you straddled. It stung deeper than the blade, a rejection that fueled the shadows creeping into his soul. Yet even as pain lanced through him, he couldn't tear his gaze from the line of your neck and the way sweat beaded along your throat tracing a path down to the valley between your heaving chest.
"What is your name?" You pressed, the knife steady while your free hand now rested on his shoulder, nails digging in just enough to anchor him as curiosity sharpened your focus amid the hate.
"Neteyam." He said simply, the word escaping like a confession, resignation mingling with an undercurrent of longing.
You laughed again, meaner this time with a throaty bark that vibrated through your core.
"Neteyam, the filthy sky demon." You mocked, rolling the name on your tongue like a curse. "My sister would be pleased that I bring the kuru of Toruk Makto's son before her."
Your eyes gleamed with dark promise, imagining the trophy of his kuru severed as a symbol of Mangkwan supremacy dangling in your marui.
Panic flickered in Neteyam's chest but it warred with an unwillingness to harm you. If he fought back now, twisting free and overpowering you, his hands might mar that flawless skin and leave bruises on your arms or that captivating face. Eywa he wished for a disturbance, anything to shatter this moment without violence for you. As if the Great Mother heard his silent plea, the air stirred with the powerful beat of wings slicing through the canopy followed by urgent voices calling his name echoing from above.
"Neteyam! Where are you?" Lo'ak's shout cut through the trees laced with worry while Jake's deeper timbre joined in, commanding and steady.
Relief nearly escaped him in a breath but he held it as he watched your reaction.
You heard it too. The approaching ikran and the unmistakable cadence of Omatikaya warriors. A snarl ripped from your throat, low and feral as frustration boiled over like lava, your beautiful features twisting into a mask of fury.
"Interrupt me again next time." You growled, leaning down until your lips nearly brushed his ear, voice a venomous whisper with rage simmering beneath the threat. "And I'll have your kuru hanging from my marui."
With a fluid motion, you dismounted him, your thighs releasing their grip leaving a ghost of warmth where they'd clamped. Your body uncoiled, ash flaking from your limbs as you rose, your knife still clutched in your fist. You shot him one last glare, hateful and disgusted, eyes raking over him as if committing his form to memory for future vengeance. Then without another word you melted into the foliage, your form vanishing into the green shadows with the silent prowess of a seasoned hunter.
Neteyam lay there for a moment staring at the canopy above, the imprint of your weight lingering on his hips like a brand. He missed it already, the press of your curves and the dangerous allure of your scent. A low groan escaped him as he shifted, his arousal evident in the insistent throb beneath his loincloth, a betrayal of his body's response to your dominance.
Shaking his head to clear the haze, he sat up slowly, snatching his bow and arrows to drape across his lap to conceal the evidence of his desire.
"Bro, are you okay?" Lo'ak's voice broke the silence first, crashing through the underbrush with his usual reckless energy.
He skidded to a halt beside Neteyam, his tail flicking in concern while Jake approached more methodically. His gaze sweeping over the unconscious Olangi people sprawled nearby, their forms battered and kurus mercifully intact.
"Yeah." Neteyam replied curtly, forcing composure into his tone as he adjusted his position before rising to his feet with deliberate slowness.
Jake turned to them, his broad frame casting a long shadow, eyes sharp with paternal scrutiny.
"What happened here?" He asked, voice gravelly and worry etching lines around his eyes.
"Mangkwans raided the Olangi." Neteyam explained slinging his bow over his shoulder, the wood cool against his heated skin. "They were about to cut off their kurus. I intervened from the brush, shot an arrow to stop it."
He kept the details sparse, omitting the blade at his throat and the intoxicating weight of you atop him.
Jake tensed visibly, muscles coiling under his blue skin like a predator sensing threat. "Who was leading the raid? Varang?"
Neteyam's mind flashed to your face, those ember eyes and the cruel tilt of your lips, the ash-veiled beauty that haunted him already.
"No." He said, voice even even with the shadow of obsession stirring. "It's her sister. The Tsakarem."
Jake and Lo'ak whipped their heads toward him in unison, surprise widening their expressions.
"You saw her?" Lo'ak blurted, brows shooting up with intrigue sparking in his mischievous gaze.
Neteyam nodded once, curt and evasive.
He'd done far more than see you. He felt you, he breathed you but those truths stayed buried, coiling dark in his chest like a secret vow.
"Let's move." Jake commanded, already kneeling to check on the nearest Olangi, his hands gentle as he assessed wounds. "We need to help them. Bring them back to Omatikaya."
Neteyam inclined his head in agreement but as they gathered the dazed travelers by supporting limp arms and murmuring reassurances, his gaze drifted to the spot where you'd vanished. The undergrowth seemed to whisper your being, a siren call pulling at the edges of his honor. The future Olo'eyktan felt the first true fracture in his resolve, a darkness blooming not from duty but from the cruel beauty who'd marked him without a touch.
As ikran cries heralded their departure, he mounted his own bond-beast last, the wind carrying him homeward yet his thoughts lingered in the ash-scented wilds and chasing the ghost of your snarl.
Meanwhile, you sprinted through the tangled roots and bioluminescent vines, heart pounding with a mix of fury and something sharper, more unsettling. The forest blurred around you, the towering trees with bark etched like ancient scars turned into the familiar scorched ones but your mind replayed the encounter.
Those golden eyes staring up at you unafraid, calling you beautiful amid the threat. Disgusting sky demon, you reminded yourself, snarling under your breath as revulsion clashed with an unwelcome curiosity for the Omatikaya warrior.
Your legs pumped with relentless energy, thighs burning from the raid and the brief wrestle, the loincloth chafing against your sweat-slicked skin. Ash flaked from your arms as you vaulted a fallen log and landing with cat-like poise, your breaths coming in sharp bursts that made your chest ache.
Why had I let him live?
The question gnawed at you even as your marui came into view. Woven from volcanic fibers, perched on stilts over a steaming pool. Warriors milled about who were tending stolen goods such as the shimmering crystals piled in nets and the herbs bundled for Varang's rituals. You slowed, straightening your top where beads had shifted, exposing a sliver of your midriff, the soft undercurve of your breasts rising with each calming inhale.
Your sister's voice called from within, authoritative and probing but you waved it off, slipping inside to wash the encounter away.
Water from a nearby basin splashed over your face, rinsing rivulets of ash to reveal the true azure of your skin which was freckled with faint glowing spots that danced like stars under the dim light. You stared at your reflection in the rippling surface, cheekbones flushed from exertion, lips still curved in residual disdain, and eyes smoldering with unresolved fire.
Neteyam.
The name echoed, stirring a heat you crushed down. He was the enemy, a filthy intruder on your domain. Yet as you traced a finger along the scar on your palm from past battles, you couldn't shake the memory of his body beneath yours thatâs stirring instincts you hadn't anticipated.
Varang entered then, her taller frame filling the entrance as her eyes narrowed at your disheveled state.
"Little tsmuke, the raidâsuccess?" She asked, voice like grinding stone with concern veiled in command.
You met her gaze as you forced a smirk. "More than. We took what we needed."
Omitting the details, the blade, the almost-kill.
She nodded satisfied but you turned away, mind already plotting the next border push. Deep down though, a thread of anticipation wove through your thoughts.
Would those golden eyes seek you again?
The Tsakarem of Mangkwan didn't yield to weakness but this sky demon had cracked something open in you, a fissure where darkness and desire might mingle unchecked.
The air in the Tsahik's marui hung heavy with the scent of healing herbs, bitter yarrow and soothing aloe mingling in the steam rising from clay bowls.
Neteyam sat rigidly on a woven mat, his broad shoulders tense beneath the dim glow of suspended lanterns that cast flickering shadows across the curved walls of pandora vines. The shallow nick on his neck throbbed faintly, a reminder of your blade's kiss yet it was nothing compared to the deeper ache gnawing at his core.
His grandmother Mo'at, the revered Tsahik, was occupied elsewhere in the communal space, her hands deftly tending to the battered Olangi refugees who huddled in clusters, their faces dimmed by exhaustion and pain. Murmurs of gratitude and soft chants filled the air as she moved among them as a pillar of calm authority.
Instead, it was Alayni who attended to him, the young healer-in-training whose gentle presence had long been a fixture in his life.
She knelt before him, her slender fingers working with practiced care as she dabbed a cool poultice onto his wound. Alayni was pretty in a soft unassuming way, her eyes a warm amber that often darted shyly from beneath long lashes. Her braids were neatly bound with feathers, signifying her devotion to the healing arts and her movements were fluid and almost reverent as she applied the salve.
She had always been kind to him.
Slipping morsels of fresh fruit into his training satchel when he pushed himself too hard under the midday sun or lingering after lessons to ask about his day with a blush coloring her cheeks. His parents adored her, Neytiri saw in her the quiet strength of a future Tsahik while Jake appreciated her steadiness, a counterbalance to the chaos of their family. She was one of the potential mates they urged him to consider, especially now with his ascension to becoming Olo'eyktan looming in just a year.
Neteyam had entertained the idea once.
Alayni would make a good mate. She was loyal and nurturing, her shyness a balm to his burdens. She had expressed her interest subtly but persistently. A lingering touch during healings and invitations to walk the glowing paths at dusk, her voice soft with hope trembling in every syllable as she suggested they share a meal by the river. He had even agreed a few times out of duty, their conversations polite but devoid of the spark that now eluded him entirely.
But that was before you. Before the raid, before your ash-streaked form had pinned him down, your eyes burning with contempt that only fueled the fire in his blood.
Alayni was pretty, yes, but she paled against the vision of you. Your fierce beauty a storm to her gentle breeze, your cruelty a magnet to his unraveling restraint. He wanted you with a ferocity that bordered on madness, even after mere moments in your presence. He craved you despite the disgust twisting your lips when you spat "filthy sky demon," he craved you despite the enmity of your clans carving chasms between you. You were the enemy, a Mangkwan Tsakarem destined to lead raids that spilled Omatikaya blood, yet the thought of your thighs straddling him and your blade at his throat consumed him like a fever.
It was absurd, this pull. A betrayal of everything he stood for as the future leader but he couldn't deny it. His heart raced at the memory of your scent and his body stirred unbidden with a low heat pooling in his core.
As Alayni's fingers brushed the edge of the wound, her touch feather-light and caring, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Her amber eyes searched his golden ones, wide with unspoken affection and a flicker of longing softening her features. But Neteyam kept his stare fixed on the far wall where woven tapestries depicted Eywa's embrace, his jaw set in quiet detachment.
His mind wandered relentlessly to you.
The curve of your hips as you dismounted, the snarl that bared your teeth, and the way your laughter had vibrated through him like a challenge. How could he see you again? Touch you? The forest was vast and the borders were tense but he would find a way. He would scout the edges, risk the shadows, anything to glimpse that fire once more.
"There." Alayni murmured finally, tying off a thin strip of leaf bandage with delicate precision as satisfaction warmed her voice. Her hand lingered, sliding down to caress his arm in a gesture of concern, her palm warm against the corded muscle of his bicep. "Are you alright, Neteyam? That cut... it could have been worse."
Her fingers traced a subtle path, innocent yet hopeful, her breath catching slightly as she awaited his response. In her mind, visions danced. In a year when Jake stepped down, she could be at his side, as Tsahik to his Olo'eyktan, their kurus entwining in tsaheylu under the Tree of Souls. The thought made her pulse quicken with a giddy flutter in her chest.
Neteyam nodded curtly, his voice flat and dismissive with impatience edging his tone as he rose to his feet making the mat rustle beneath him. "I'm fine. Thank you, Alayni."
He didn't meet her eyes, already turning toward the entrance, the weight of his bow slung across his back as a familiar anchor.
"Neteyam." She called out softly standing as well, her form silhouetted against the herbal steam, disappointment tinged with persistence. "Do you want to take a walk later? The glowworms by the falls are blooming. I thought... we could talk."
Her hands clasped together twisting nervously, the beads on her wrists clinking like a plea.
He paused at the flap of the marui, the humid air of the village filtering in and carrying the distant calls of ikran. His mother would beam if he accepted, she would see it as progress toward the merging they craved. But today the will eluded him, drowned out by the echo of your mocking laugh.
"I have something to do." He replied over his shoulder, the words clipped with feign regret buried under his resolve.
"Oh." She echoed faintly, the syllable hanging like a wilted petal, a quiet hurt settling in her posture as she watched him go.
Neteyam stepped into the bustling heart of the Omatikaya village, the high trees weaving a cathedral of leaves overhead yet his thoughts plotted a solitary path. He would scout the borders at dawn and venture closer to Mangkwan lands than wisdom allowed. Risk be damned, he needed to see you again, to unravel the enigma that had ensnared him.
The next day dawned with a veil of mist clinging to the forest floor, the air crisp and alive with the symphony of awakening life.
Neteyam mounted his ikran early, the creature's leathery wings cutting through the canopy as they soared toward the contested fringes. His heart thudded with anticipation, his golden eyes scanning the terrain below from the rivers snaking like veins to the clusters of ferns hiding potential threats.
Hours passed in fruitless search. There were no raiding parties and no ash-painted warriors, only the indifferent pulse of Eywa's domain. Disappointment settled heavy in his chest in a dull ache as he urged his ikran toward home, the wind whipping his braids like accusations of folly.
Just as resignation crept in, a flash of color caught his eye. A solitary figure by the river's bend, nestled in a sun-dappled clearing. His breath hitched, deep in his gut he knew it was you.
With a sharp command, he guided the ikran into a steep dive, landing silently in a thicket nearby as the beast's talons sank into moss without a sound. Dismounting swiftly, Neteyam crept forward, his warrior's grace muting his steps as excitement pounded in his veins like war drums. The underbrush parted under his careful hands, leaves whispering secrets as he approached with his heart racing in a mix of thrill and trepidation.
There you were, reclining on a bed of soft moss beside the lazily flowing river with the water's gentle murmur as a lullaby. Clearly sleep had claimed you with your body lax in repose, unguarded in a way that stole the air from his lungs.
For the first time, your face was bare, no war paint or ash to veil your features, washed clean by the river's touch. Your true azure skin gleamed under the filtered sunlight, smooth and unmarred, dotted with subtle bioluminescent freckles that shimmered like scattered stars across your high cheekbones and the bridge of your nose. Your lips, full and slightly parted, curved in the faintest hint of relaxation, a stark contrast to the snarls he remembered. Long lashes fanned against your lids, framing eyes hidden now but etched in his memory as embers of defiance. Strands of your dark hair, freed from the raid's bindings, cascaded over the moss like midnight rivers and framing the arch of your neck.
You were breathtaking, vulnerability wrapping around your fierce beauty like a fragile shroud. Out here alone with only the river as sentinel, you seemed almost ethereal. Chest rising and falling in slow even rhythms, the soft swell of your breasts straining gently against the thin weave of your top with each breath. No armor, no blade in hand, just you exposed to the world, exposed to him. Anyone could stumble upon you like this. A hunter, a rival, a man like him and do... something.
The thought sent fury through Neteyam, his gaze lingering with possession and hunger. His eyes trailed downward, drinking in the rest of you with unrestrained fervor.
Your arms were folded loosely beneath your head, elbows bent revealing the toned length of your limbs, muscles subtly defined from years of wielding weapons and commanding warriors. The curve of your waist dipped invitingly where your top rode up slightly exposing a sliver of taut midriff, the skin there flawless and warm-toned as if inviting touch. Your legs stretched out languidly, one knee bent in sleep, the other straight showcasing the powerful thighs that had pinned him so effectively and was now relaxed, their azure expanse glowing faintly in the light. The loincloth rode high on your hips, simple yet accentuating the flare of your form with the fabric clinging to the subtle contours beneath.
Every inch of you spoke of strength wrapped in allure like a siren in repose and Neteyam's breath grew shallow. His body responding with a surge of heat, fists clenching at his sides to restrain the urge to close the distance.
You stirred faintly in your slumber with a soft sigh escaping your lips as a breeze rustled the leaves overhead but your eyes remained closed and lost in dreams unknown.
Neteyam lowered himself silently onto the moss beside you, the soft earth yielding under his weight like a conspirator in his forbidden vigil. The river's gentle current whispered nearby, a serene counterpoint to the storm raging within him.
His golden eyes, sharp and unyielding, fixed first on the rise and fall of your chest then drifted upward to your face. His gaze lingered on those parted lips which was plush and inviting, a stark vulnerability amid your warrior's form. They begged to be claimed and the thought sent a shiver through his frame making his tail flick restlessly behind him.
Lower still, his eyes traced the delicate beaded necklace top that clung to your torso. The strands of iridescent woven fibers draping just enough to shield the peaks of your breasts from full view. Yet the swell of them was evident, they were firm and rounded as they rise with each breath in a rhythm that mesmerized him. The azure curves peeking teasingly at the edges where the beads shifted. They were soft yet perky, a contradiction to the ferocity he knew you wielded and he imagined their weight in his palms, imagined the warmth and plushness yielding under his touch.
Further down, the simple loincloth of supple hide and vines rested high on your hips as it concealed the most intimate sanctum of your body, the place he yearned to uncover as selfish curiosity burned in him.
What secrets lay beneath that barrier?
The smooth contours of your mound perhaps flushed with the same azure hue, the delicate folds he fantasized would glisten with your essence. He wondered at the scent. Maybe it would be musky and wild like the forest after rain mingled with your unique fire and the taste? Maybe it would be sweet and tangy on his tongue, a forbidden nectar that would drive him to madness. His breath hitched, a low heat coiling in his abdomen as he shifted closer, the air between you thickening with unspoken tension.
Unable to resist any longer, Neteyam extended a hand, his callused fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that belied the darkness creeping into his soul. Your skin was impossibly soft there, like the finest moss under moonlight, and as he caressed the curve of your face, you nuzzled into his palm instinctively with a sleepy murmur escaping your lips.
The simple act undid him, it was a glimpse of innocence beneath your cruel exterior. He grinned, fangs peeking through his lips, a mix of affection and hunger lighting his features as he marveled at how cute you were in this moment when youâre stripped of your armor and snarls. This woman, who had threatened his life with such venom, now sought comfort in his touch without knowing it.
Biting his lower lip to stifle the growl building in his throat, Neteyam leaned down with his braids falling forward like dark curtains. He had to taste you just once, to etch this reality into his being. His lips pressed softly against yours in a tentative peck and the contact was electric. Your mouth yielding like ripe fruit, warm and plush that sent a jolt straight to his core.
And yet it wasn't enough, the hunger gnawed deeper within him.
Emboldened, he traced his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip lewdly and deliberately, savoring the faint saltiness before parting your lips further and sliding inside. He explored with unrestrained greed with his tongue curling against yours, sucking gently as a groan threatened to escape him from the pleasure rumbling low in his chest. The intimacy was intoxicating as if you were already mates bound in tsaheylu, your flavors mingling in a dance that blurred the lines of enemy and desire.
You stirred beneath him, a haze of sleep fracturing as awareness flooded in. Your eyelids fluttered open, eyes widening in shock at the invasion.
There he was, the Omatikaya warrior from the raid, Neteyam.
His face inches from yours, his tongue delving deep into your mouth with shameless possession. The wet heat of him and the bold suction on your tongue, it was an assault wrapped in seduction, his breath hot against your skin. Disbelief warred with fury as you registered the intimacy, your body tensing like a coiled spring. Your hands flew up to shove at his chest, your palms pressing against the firm planes of his pectorals feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath.
But Neteyam only groaned aloud now that you were awake, a sound of raw need vibrating against your lips. His large frame pinning you gently but firmly as he deepened the kiss. His mouth claimed yours harder, his tongue thrusting to muffle your rising protests as he swallowed your gasps in a fierce tangle that left you breathless. The world narrowed to the slick slide of him, the scrape of his fangs against your inner lip, and the way his body heat seeped into yours like an unwanted brand.
Finally he pulled back, a glistening thread of saliva bridging your lips that shimmered in the dappled light. He grinned down at you, eyes dark with triumph and yearning etched in the curve of his mouth.
"I've been searching for you." He murmured, voice husky and low with intensity lacing every word as if confessing a sacred vow.
Rage ignited in you like dry tinder to flame. With a feral snarl that bared your sharp teeth and venom dripping from the sound, you lashed out with your leg snapping up to kick him squarely in the ribs. The impact sent him reeling sideways with a grunt escaping him as he rolled onto the moss. Your hands scrambled to your side, fingers closing around the hilt of your dagger before yanking it free in a blur of motion. You surged to your feet, blade glinting as you loomed over him. Your form coiled for violence and breasts heaving with each furious breath that strained against the beaded top you wore much to his delight.
"You filthy demon." You hissed, voice laced with disgust and hatred sharpening your tone like your weapon, the dagger you held poised at his throat. "How dare you do that to me? Touch me like some lowly beast in heat?"
Your free hand wiped at your mouth as if to erase the lingering taste of him but the flush creeping up your neck betrayed a flicker of something else. Intrigue at the boldness of his claim and the way his words hung in the air like a challenge.
Neteyam didn't flinch even as the tip of your blade nicked his skin anew, a thin bead of blood welling up. He pushed himself up on one elbow, his muscular torso flexing under the thin straps of his chest covering as his golden eyes locked on yours with unyielding fervor.
"I can't stop thinking about you." He confessed, the words tumbling out raw and unfiltered with desperation underscoring his plea. "From the moment you pinned me down, your fire... it haunts me. Tell me your name. Let me know who has captured me so completely."
His gaze roamed your form again, not with shame but with open yearning. Tracing the wild tangle of your hair framing your furious expression, the taut lines of your abdomen glistening with a sheen of river mist, and the powerful stance of your legs planted wide in defiance.
Disgust roiled in your gut, hot and acrid, at this Omatikaya intruder who dared invade your solitude and your body with such audacity. He was the enemy, son of the sky demon Toruk Makto, a threat to your clan's dominance and yet, the memory of his tongue and the heat of his mouth lingered like a poison you couldn't quite spit out. Intrigue twisted through the revulsion, what madness drove him to seek you out and kiss you as if you were his destined one?
Your grip tightened on the dagger, your knuckles paling as fury warred with a treacherous curiosity in your eyes.
"You think you can waltz in here and claim what isn't yours?" You spat stepping closer, the blade pressing harder against his jugular. "I should gut you here, leave your corpse for the viwiswasp to feast on. You're nothing but a pest, a filthy sky spawn with delusions."
But even as the words lashed out, mean and cutting, a part of you hesitated. The way his chest rose and fell mirroring your own ragged breaths, the earnest plea in his voice that clashed with the warrior's resolve. You wanted to kill him, to end this absurdity with a swift strike, to reclaim the control he'd stolen in that kiss. Your arm trembled slightly, your beauty twisted into something lethal as your lips curled in a sneer, and eyes blazing with the cruelty that defined you as Varang's sister, the Tsakarem destined to lead with iron will.
Neteyam's hand rose slowly, not to defend but to reach for you, fingers brushing the air near your wrist with longing softening the edges of his gaze.
"Kill me if you must." He whispered, voice thick with emotion and dark passion fueling his defiance. "But know that even in death, I'd want you. Your fire, your cruelty, all of it. You're no enemy to me, you're the one who's awakened something I can't ignore. Your name... please."
He wanted to love you, to pull you into his world of shadows and bind you there, consequences be damned.
Your heart thundered in your ears, a war drum echoing the chaos of betrayal and unwanted heat that his touch had ignited. The dagger trembled in your grasp, its razor edge kissing the pulse point at Neteyam's throat where his azure skin flushed with a mix of exertion and unbridled want. His golden eyes held yours unblinking, a predator's stare that refused to yield even in the face of death.
If giving him this scrap of yourself, of your name, would sever this madness then so be it.
"If I tell you my nameâŠ" You growled, voice low and edged with finality as threat wove through each syllable like thorns. "You must leave me alone. Swear it on Eywa or I'll carve your heart out here and now."
But you didn't wait for his oath, the words spilling from your lips like venom you needed to purge.
"(Y/N). Now leave me be or I'll make sure you die by my blade."
The name hung in the humid air, a reluctant offering that tasted like ash on your tongue. Your lips curled into a savage snarl, fury twisting your features and fangs glinting as you wrenched the dagger away to spun on your heel. Your bare feet sank into the cool moss, propelling you toward the river's edge where the water's gleam promised escape from his suffocating presence. Every muscle in your body coiled with the urge to flee, your hips swaying in a warrior's stride, and the loincloth brushing against your thighs like a reminder of the vulnerability he'd exploited.
"I can't do that." Neteyam called after you, his voice a rough timbre that cut through the rustle of leaves as desperation cracked the edges of his resolve.
He rose fluidly, his form unfolding like a shadow detaching from the earth with broad shoulders rolling as he took a step forward, clearly undeterred by the blood trickling down his neck.
You whirled around with disbelief flooding your veins like ice water, your wild mane of braids whipping across your shoulders in a dark cascade. The motion made your beaded top shift, the shells clinking softly against the curves of your chest which draw his gaze for a fleeting heated instant before you jabbed the dagger toward him accusingly.
"Why do you keep insisting?" You demanded, your voice rising in incredulous outrage while your confusion sharpened into a blade of its own. "Are you stupid, forest boy? We are enemies, Iâm born of a clan that spills blood for sport and yet you want me?"
Your free hand gestured wildly between you, emphasizing the chasm that no words could bridge. Beauty radiated from you even in anger, the full swell of your mouth still tinged with the ghost of his kiss and a flush blooming across your collarbones like forbidden wildflowers.
"You and I could never be." You continued, the words lashing out with cruel precision, scorn dripping from your tone like poison. "My sister, Varang, would sooner see you flayed alive than accept you as the one to claim her tsmuke. She'd rip out your eyes for even dreaming it. And your precious Omatikaya? They'd never accept me. A Mangkwan, the Tsakarem who leads raids into your lands. What a fool you are, chasing shadows that will only lead you to ruin."
In your mind, he was a pathetic spectacle. This golden-eyed warrior, the son of legends, reduced to begging at the feet of his foe. His persistence grated against your pride, a fool's errand that mocked the iron walls you'd built around your heart. You turned away again with your shoulders squared, the dagger sheathed at your hip with a decisive snap and determined to outrun his folly.
"I don't care." Neteyam replied, his words steady and unyielding, a quiet fire burning beneath the surface as he stepped closer until the heat of his body brushed the air at your back.
But you didn't listen nor did let the plea sink in. You vanished into the underbrush, the forest swallowing you whole leaving him with the echo of your name and the sting of rejection.
Ever since that day, he haunted your steps like a specter woven from Pandora's own mists. Neteyam followed you through the tangled wilds of Mangkwan territory as a silent shadow at times, his presence a prickle at the nape of your neck when you scouted alone. Other moments, he'd emerge from the foliage, voice soft yet insistent, murmuring words meant to chip away at your defenses.
"The way you move through the trees, it's like you're part of them." He'd say one afternoon, golden eyes tracing the graceful flex of your calves as you leaped across a fallen log and your frame twisting mid-air with effortless poise.
Or in the hush of twilight as you sharpened your arrows by a flickering fire, he'd linger at the periphery and commenting on the stars reflected in your gaze, how they mirrored the fierce spark within you.
He was persistent, a relentless force driven by a singular goal. To soften you, to peel back the layers of cruelty until the woman he'd glimpsed in your sleep, the one who nuzzled his hand, emerged fully.
His approaches varied, sometimes bold with questions about your hunts, drawing out tales of Mangkwan prowess that made your chest swell despite yourself. Other times, quiet vigils where he'd simply watch, his muscular form leaning against a trunk, the scars on his arms catching the light like badges of battles fought for a cause, now fixated on you. Each encounter left you seething yet a treacherous warmth stirred in your core. His unwavering attention a balm to the isolation of your role as Tsakarem.
Weeks blurred into a tense rhythm, his pursuit weaving into the fabric of your days until one night, under a canopy heavy with the scent of night-blooming vines, you found yourself cornered.
Not by force but by the weight of his words.
You'd been tracking a hexapede through a secluded glade, the moon casting silvery paths on the dew-kissed ferns when he appeared blocking your path with a vulnerability that disarmed you. His braids were tousled from the chase, framing a face etched with raw honesty, the broad planes of his chest rising and falling as if he'd run for miles to reach you.
"Every duty, every breath I take without you feels empty." He confessed, voice a husky murmur, longing threading through like vines around your resolve. "You're not just an enemy, (Y/N). You're the fire that lights my darkness, the cruelty that makes me feel alive. Let me show you, let me prove that clans mean nothing when Eywa binds two souls like this."
His hand reached out not to grab but to hover near yours, the calluses on his fingers speaking of battles and bows. His golden eyes locking onto your lips with an intensity that made your pulse stutter.
The air thickened, charged with the unspoken pull that had simmered since that first kiss. Against your better judgment you stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until his breath ghosted your skin.
What was it about his persistence, the way he saw past your snarls to the beauty you wielded like a weapon?
Your body betrayed you as you leaned in, the soft peaks of your breasts brushing his chest through the thin barrier of beads sending sparks racing down your spine. His lips met yours in a tentative press then deepened as you responded, tongues tangling in a heated dance that tasted of forbidden fruit and shared secrets. Your hands fisted in his hair pulling him closer, the world fading to the firm press of his hips against yours and the low groan he emitted vibrating through you like thunder.
But reality crashed in like a tidal wave. Images of Varang's disapproving glare, the blood-soaked raids between your clans, and the impossibility of it all. You remembered who you were, the Tsakarem, Varang's unyielding sister, not some lovesick dreamer.
With a gasp you shoved him back, your palms slamming into the unyielding wall of his abdomen feeling the ripple of muscle beneath. He stumbled, eyes wide with shock and hurt, confusion flickering in their depths but you didn't let him speak.
"Do not come see me again nor follow me." You commanded, voice breaking with a mix of resolve and regret as steel hardened your tone to mask the tremor.
Your chest heaved, the beaded strands shifting with each ragged breath. You backed away, beauty sharpened by the pain of denial. Eyes stormy with unshed tears, lips swollen from the kiss, the lines of your body poised for flight.
"You and I... we could never be. Go back to your forest, Neteyam. Forget me or the next time I see you, my blade won't hesitate."
You turned and melted into the shadows leaving him kneeling in the glade, the echo of your rejection a wound deeper than any dagger could inflict. "(Y/N), waitâ"
The night closed around you but his presence lingered like a scar like a persistent ache that neither distance nor denial could fully erase.
Weeks dragged on like vines choking the life from a once-vibrant tree and Neteyam hadn't caught even a whisper of your shadow flitting through the undergrowth. It was as if Eywa herself had woven you into the ether, erasing every trace of your presence from the tangled borders where your worlds collided. The forest, once a realm of purpose and patrol now felt hollow, its bioluminescent glow mocking the void you'd left in his chest.
He patrolled the edges of Omatikaya territory with mechanical precision, his bow slung across his back, but his golden eyes scanned not for threats but for the sway of a familiar form cutting through the mist-shrouded ferns.
Distraction clawed at him, a relentless predator that turned his thoughts into a storm of obsession. Training sessions blurred into forgotten commands. He'd miss cues from his father's strategies, his mind replaying the ghost of your lips against his and the way your body had arched into the kiss before rejection shattered the illusion. Your beauty haunted him, the elegant sweep of your neck as you snarled threats and the curve of your hips that spoke of battles won and raids led with unyielding command.
It consumed him, this dark hunger that twisted his once noble heart into something feral with nights spent pacing his marui pod, fingers tracing the air where your warmth had once pressed against him. Sleep evaded him replaced by visions of your eyes flashing defiance, your full mouth curving in cruel dismissal.
His family noticed the fracture in their golden son, the way his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight, his once-sharp focus dulled like a blade left too long in the rain. Meals passed in silence with his portions untouched until Lo'ak, ever the bold sibling, cornered him one evening by the central fire pit. The flames danced across their azure skin, casting flickering shadows that mirrored the turmoil in Neteyam's gaze.
Lo'ak dropped onto the woven mat beside him, his tail flicking with casual concern, lean muscles shifting under his arm bands as he leaned in.
"Bro, are you okay?" Lo'ak asked, voice laced with brotherly worry and a teasing edge softening the probe with his ears twitching forward. "You've been off lately like you're hunting ghosts or something."
Neteyam nodded absently, his jaw tightening as he poked at the embers with a stick, sparks rising like fleeting hopes. The motion was rote, his mind elsewhere and tangled in the memory of your scent.
Lo'ak wasn't convinced, his brow furrowing as he studied the distant look in his brother's eyes.
He nudged Neteyam's arm, the contact grounding but insistent. "Did something happen during the Mangkwan raid before Dad and I found you? Spill it."
Neteyam stilled, the stick snapping in his grip as the question yanked him back to that fateful clash. The ash-streaked warrior who'd pinned him with a blade, your body a taut bowstring of lethal grace. The memory ached like a fresh wound, your name a thorn embedded deep in his being.
He exhaled sharply, golden eyes darkening with the weight of confession.
"The Tsakarem of Mangkwan." He murmured, voice rough with longing, a raw edge betraying the storm within him. "I want her. (Y/N)."
Lo'ak's eyes widened stupefied, his mouth parting in shock as he processed the impossibility. His golden brother, the perfect heir, ensnared by an enemy? The very heart of Mangkwan cruelty?
He leaned back running a hand through his braids as disbelief etched lines across his face. "Bro... you know Dad and Mom would never approve. She's one of them. The ones who raid our allies, spill blood like it's water. What the hell, Neteyam?"
Neteyam's jaw clenched, the muscle ticking visibly under his skin, a fortress against the truth that echoed your own words like a cruel refrain.
He knew it, his Dadâs stern lectures on duty, his Momâs unyielding gaze on clan purity but it did nothing to quench the fire you'd ignited. Your rejection replayed in his mind, the push of your hands against his chest, and the storm in your eyes as you declared your worlds irreconcilable. It only fueled the madness in him, making him crave the challenge of breaking through your walls.
As the brothers' tense exchange hung in the air, a soft rustle drew their attention.
Alayni emerged from the shadows of the surrounding pods, her steps hesitant and shy glances darting toward Neteyam like fireflies seeking light. Her frame was draped in healer's vines, the gentle swell of her hips swaying with quiet grace, her face framed by loose tendrils that caught the firelight and highlighting the soft blush on her cheeks. She carried a small pouch of herbs in a pretext for her approach but her eyes betrayed the deeper intent.
Lo'ak spotted her first, a mischievous grin splitting his face as he clapped Neteyam on the shoulder, the pat teasing and knowing amusement dancing in his tone. "Looks like your admirer is here for you. Don't mess this up, golden boy."
With a wink, he rose and sauntered off leaving Neteyam to the awkward solitude.
Neteyam rolled his eyes, a flicker of irritation crossing his features but he schooled his expression as Alayni settled beside him. Closer than usual, her knee brushing his thigh in a tentative claim of space. The warmth of her proximity was gentle and unthreatening, her fingers twisting the pouch nervously as she met his gaze.
"How are you?" She asked softly, voice a melodic lilt with shyness threading through like delicate vines as her full lips curved in a hopeful smile. "It feels like I haven't seen you around since I treated your wound. You've been... distant."
Neteyam shrugged, his broad shoulders lifting in a noncommittal motion making the scars on his arms flex subtly under the fire's glow.
"Duties." He replied curtly, voice flat as an evasion masking the turmoil, his mind already drifting back to you, the one whose touch lingered like a brand.
Alayni leaned in slightly, her breath warm against his ear preparing to bridge the gap with words of care, her hand hovering near his as if to offer solace. But before she could speak, shouts erupted from the tree line with harsh cries of victory and the thud of bound feet against the earth.
Neteyam's head snapped up, heart thudding against his ribs like a war drum as he spotted his father and the warriors returning, their forms silhouetted against the fading light.
The captives trailed behind, ash-streaked skins marking them as Mangkwan raiders, their bodies slumped in defeat. Five in total, wrists bound with sturdy vines but one sight stopped Neteyam's breath.
You.
Unconscious, your form cradled in the arms of a warrior with your head lolling against his chest, the ash paint smudged across your high cheekbones and the elegant line of your jaw. Your braids hung limp framing a face pale from exhaustion, the resilient curves of your body draped in tattered raiding gear that clung to the subtle flare of your waist and the firm strength of your thighs.
The others were dragged roughly but you were carried like a precious cargo even in enmity.
He scrambled to his feet, abandoning Alayni mid-breath, her confused expression lost in his haste. Legs pumping, he wove through the gathering crowd following Jake and the warriors into the large containment hut at the village's edge. The structure loomed, woven from sturdy branches and hides, its interior dim and partitioned for holding foes.
The captives were deposited inside. The four males shoved into a far corner with their glares defiant as their hisses of Mangkwan curses filled the air.
You were placed apart in a secluded alcove screened by a heavy cloth drape, your unconscious form laid gently on a mat of woven reeds. The warrior who carried you stepped back wiping sweat from his brow as Jake oversaw the securing of the space.
"Dad, what happened?" Neteyam demanded, voice edged with urgency and concern sharpening his tone like a drawn arrow as he stepped into the hut's shadowed confines with his tail lashing behind him.
Jake turned, his massive frame blocking the entrance momentarily, his eyes weary from the skirmish but sharp with command.
He wiped a streak of dirt from his arm, the muscles there corded from years of battle. "We were about to capture Varang. Had her cornered in the ravine but the female blocked it, took the hit meant for her. Bought enough time for their Tsahik to escape."
The female. You. The only one among them, your role as shield a testament to the fierce loyalty that bound you to your sister in fire and ash.
Neteyam's gaze flicked to your still form, hidden now behind the cloth and a pang twisted in his gut.
"She's the Tsakarem." He supplied, the words heavy with a mix of protectiveness and dread lacing his revelation.
Jake's eyes widened, surprise flashing across his stern features as he processed the implications, his hand pausing mid-gesture. "She's important to the Mangkwans then. Varang will probably come after her. Ransom or rescue, doesn't matter. We can't let that slide."
"She will." Neteyam confirmed stepping closer, his voice low and resolute, the ache of your vulnerability fueling his words. "That's her younger sister. Varang won't rest until she's free."
Jake nodded at the confirmation, his expression hardening into strategic resolve, clapping a hand on Neteyam's shoulder in brief solidarity. "We will keep a tight watch then. I'll ask them questions later. See what we can pry loose about their next moves."
With that he turned and strode out, the warriors filing after him leaving the hut in tense silence broken only by the captives' low growls from the corner.
Neteyam lingered, the air thick with the scent of sweat and earth from the raid. He approached your alcove parting the cloth with a steady hand, the fabric whispering against his fingers. There you lay tied loosely at wrists and ankles to prevent escape upon waking. Vines that bit gently into your skin, marked by fresh bruises blooming like dark petals along your arms and the arch of your collarbone.
Still as beautiful as he remembered, even in captivity. Your lashes fanned against your cheeks, full lips parted slightly in unconscious repose, the soft rise and fall of your chest drawing his eye to the swell beneath your disheveled top, and beads scattered like fallen stars.
He wanted to see you again, to clash words and wills in the wild freedom of the forest but not like this. Bound and broken at the mercy of his clan. Not with his family's eyes now fixed on you as a prize in their war. Kneeling beside you, the mat dipping under his weight as he reached out, callused fingers tracing the curve of your cheek and brushing away a smudge of ash to reveal the smooth glow beneath. Your skin was warm, alive with the pulse he knew so well, and the touch sent a shiver through him as desire warred with regret.
Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Gentle and lingering, tasting the faint salt of battle and the sweetness he'd stolen before.
"Foolish girl." He whispered against your mouth, tenderness laced with dark possession as his breath mingled with yours in the dim light.
The words were a caress and a claim, his thumb stroking the plush line of your lower lip as he pulled back, golden eyes devouring the sight of you vulnerable yet unbroken. In this moment with the world outside plotting your fate, he vowed silently to shield you. From his clan, from Varang's wrath, from everything but the bond that refused to die.
You stirred faintly under his touch, a soft murmur escaping your throat but consciousness eluded you still. Neteyam remained, a sentinel in the shadows, his heart a battlefield where love and enmity bled into one.
Hours slipped by in the dim hush of the containment hut, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and lingering smoke from the raid. Flickering torchlight danced across the woven walls, casting elongated shadows that twisted like serpents in the undergrowth.
You stirred slowly, the haze of unconsciousness peeling away to reveal the ache throbbing through your limbs, a dull fire from the blow that had felled you, protecting Varang's escape. Your eyelids fluttered open, gaze sharpening as the world came into focus. The sturdy reeds beneath you, the vines binding your wrists and ankles in a loose but unyielding embrace, and worst of all, the two figures looming nearby.
Neteyam knelt close, his golden eyes fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on hunger, broad shoulders tense under his warrior's harness, the lean cords of muscle in his arms flexing as he leaned forward. Beside him stood Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, his massive frame radiating authority, scarred torso marked by battles long past, tail swaying with restrained impatience.
A snarl ripped from your throat, low and feral disgust curling your lips like a predator's warning, your body coiling against the restraints as you bared your teeth. The sight of them, your captors and enemies, ignited a blaze in your chest, your form tensing, the subtle strength in your thighs pressing against the mat as you tested the bonds.
Jake crossed his arms, his gaze steady and unyielding, a hint of weary respect in his tone. "Your warriors stabbed themselves refusing to talk. You are the only one left."
You met his eyes, a smirk twisting your full mouth despite the vulnerability of your position, the line of your jaw lifting in defiance. Ash still clung in faint traces to your high cheekbones, accentuating the beauty of your features.
"Their loyalties bind them to us." You replied, voice smooth and laced with pride, a mocking edge sharpening the words, your chest rising with a steady breath that drew attention to the swell beneath your tattered top.
Jake tsked, shaking his head, the sound rough like gravel, underfoot frustration etching faint lines around his eyes. "You're one stubborn clan."
You hissed at him, the sound sharp and venomous, hatred flashing in your stare, ears flattening against your skull as you glared at the legend before you, the human-turned-Na'vi who embodied everything your clan despised.
"You will remain here, captive." Jake continued, his voice firm, command underscoring the decree. "You'll be our leverage if your sister ever decides to attack."
A growl rumbled deep in your chest, directed solely at him. The Toruk Makto, the anomaly who dared threaten your bloodline. Your fingers curled into fists within the vines, nails digging into your palms, the taper of them drawing faint crescents on your skin.
Jake sighed, the exhale heavy with the weight of leadership, and clapped a hand on Neteyam's shoulder, the gesture paternal and trusting as a subtle nod of handover. "Keep watch on her. The responsibility is on you."
Neteyam nodded, his expression composed outward, calm masking the thrill surging through his veins, but inside, glee bubbled like a hidden spring. He alone would guard you, tend to you, unravel the fortress of your resistance. As Jake strode out, the flap of the hut falling shut behind him, the space shrank to just the two of you, the air humming with unspoken tension.
"Baby." Neteyam murmured, voice low and intimate, affection warming the endearment as he shifted closer on his knees, his warm breath ghosting over your bound form.
You recoiled, disgust twisting your features, revulsion flaring hot in your gut, your head snapping back as far as the position allowed, the cascade of your braids shifting across your shoulders.
"Don't call me with that filthy tawtute terms of yours." You spat, words dripping venom as anger sharpened each syllable, your torso arching away from him.
He ignored the barb, golden eyes gleaming with unshakeable resolve as he leaned in, the scent of forest and him invading your senses. "Why did you let yourself get captured?"
You snarled baring fangs, fury igniting your gaze like struck flint, straining against the vines that held your wrists above your head, the motion pulling taut the supple curve of your arms.
"I am protecting our tsahik." You hissed, loyalty a shield as unyielding as your will, your voice echoing the sacred bond to Varang.
His lips curved into a grin, wide and boyish yet edged with something darker, delight sparkling in his eyes, the sharp angles of his face softening in the torchlight. "I've missed you."
You rolled your eyes, the gesture exaggerated, exasperation warring with the unwelcome flutter in your chest, turning your face away, the slope of your neck exposed in the motion, beads from your disrupted adornments clinking softly.
"I've missed your lips." He added, voice dropping to a husky whisper, desire threading through like vines claiming a tree, his fingers reaching out to trace the plush contour of your mouth, calluses rough against the sensitive skin.
You shook him off with a jerk of your head, the touch igniting sparks of unwanted heat irritation flaring alongside a traitorous shiver.
"Do not touch me, demon." You commanded, tone icy, loathing masking the conflict stirring within you.
But he only grinned wider, happiness radiating from him like bioluminescent blooms, his joy unmarred by your barbs as he settled back on his haunches to simply watch you, the weight of his gaze a caress in itself.
The days that followed blurred into a rhythm of captivity and unwelcome intimacy, the hut your world narrowed to woven walls and the single guardian who haunted your every waking moment.
Neteyam was the only face you saw, his presence a constant. Bringing woven baskets of fruit and roasted meats, feeding you with deliberate care. His fingers would brush your lips as he offered bites of sweet berry, the juice staining your chin, and you'd snarl with defiance in every bite, snapping at his hand like a cornered ikran, yet he persisted undeterred, his touch lingering on the delicate skin of your jaw.
He touched you freely, hands roaming while you snarled and twisted as fury boiled beneath your skin, the vines holding you fast to the mat or a sturdy post when he deemed it necessary. Stolen kisses came unbidden, his mouth claiming yours in quick heated presses when your guards were down, tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you bit back with rage fueling the clash of teeth.
He was utterly smitten, golden eyes devouring every inch of you with the way your chest heaved with indignant breaths, the flex of your thighs as you kicked futilely, the wild beauty of your stare that promised retribution.
One afternoon, as sunlight filtered through the hut's slits in golden shafts, he untied your ankles just enough to pull you onto his lap, your back pressed against the solid wall of his chest. His arms encircled your waist, strong and unyielding with possessiveness in his hold, the heat of his body seeping through your sparse coverings.
You snarled writhing, disgust and something perilously close to anticipation warring within, but the bonds on your wrists kept you captive to his whims.
"Shh, just relax." He murmured against your ear, tenderness laced with command, his large hands sliding upward, cupping the soft perky mounds of your breasts through the thin beaded top.
His thumbs circled the peaks, teasing them to firm points, desire evident in the hitch of his breath as he massaged your breasts with slow deliberate strokes that sent unwelcome jolts through your core. The sensation was maddening, the rough pads of his fingers kneading the yielding flesh, tracing the alluring undersweep before pinching lightly, drawing a gasp you couldn't suppress betrayal in the sound.
Your body arched involuntarily, nipples hardening under his touch, the azure skin flushing with heat as he lavished attention, his lips grazing the curve of your shoulder.
"See? You like it." He whispered, smug satisfaction coloring his voice, nipping at the tender skin there, his hips shifting subtly beneath you, the growing hardness pressing against your lower back.
You growled low, humiliation burning alongside the forbidden pleasure, twisting your head to glare at him, but the fight in your eyes dimmed fractionally with each passing day.
Weeks wove onward, the passage marked by the changing light outside and the subtle shift within you.
The snarls grew less fervent, your body anticipating his arrivals from the brush of his fingers to the the warmth of his frame, though you'd never admit it, never let the fondness crack your armored facade. You'd avert your gaze when he fed you, lips parting almost eagerly for the morsels, or lean into his massages despite the huffs of protest, a secret thrill coiling in your belly.
His touches became a ritual with his hands exploring the lines of your sides, thumbs dipping into the dip of your waist, or tracing the strong taper of your legs, always pushing boundaries while you feigned outrage.
One evening, as the stars began their vigil beyond the hut, Neteyam had you straddled across his thighs once more, your bound hands resting on his shoulders for balance.
The air hummed with humidity, your skin glistening faintly, the elegant fan of your lashes lowered as his palms worked their magic on your breasts again. This time bare, the beads pushed aside to expose the soft rounded swells. He kneaded them with reverence, awe in the gentle pressure, rolling the sensitive buds between fingers slick with shared sweat. His mouth following to lave hot open-mouthed kisses along the valley between.
Your breath hitched, conflict evident in the stutter, hips rocking subtly against him, the friction igniting sparks that blurred the line between hate and hunger. He groaned against your skin as need roughened the sound, one hand sliding down to grip the firm curve of your ass, pulling you closer as his tongue flicked teasingly.
It was in this haze of intimacy, bodies entwined like mates in the privacy of the alcove, that Alayni slipped into the hut unseen, her steps silent as a healer's grace. She had come under pretense of checking the captives' wounds, her pouch of salves clutched tightly, but the sight that greeted her froze her in the shadows.
You and Neteyam, lost in each other, his hands worshipping your form, your head thrown back in a moment of unguarded surrender.
Fury ignited in her chest, hot and consuming jealousy twisting her features into a mask of rage, eyes narrowing to slits.
Neteyam was supposed to be hers. The shy glances she'd cast, the wounds she'd tended with lingering touches, the dreams of bonding under Eywa's gaze. And now, here he was, defiling that future with you. An enemy, a Mangkwan witch, doing filthy things that should have been hers alone. Her fingers tightened on the pouch, knuckles paling, as she watched his mouth claim a nipple, your soft moan piercing the air like a betrayal.
But anger birthed cunning.
Alayni's lips curled into a smirk, cold and calculating as vindictive glee sparked in her gaze, she backed away silently, melting into the night. She knew just what to do, whispers to the right ears, seeds of doubt sown in fertile soil.
Varang would come for her sister but before that, she'd ensure this forbidden flame was snuffed out, one way or another.
The days dragged on in the stifling confines of the hut, your world reduced to the flicker of torch flames and the relentless pull of the vines that bound you. Whispers from beyond the woven walls hinted at unrest, scouts reporting movements in the ash-choked territories but you paid them little mind, your thoughts a whirlwind of simmering resentment and the unwelcome echoes of Neteyam's touches.
Unbeknownst to everyone, Alayni moved like a shadow through the camp, her steps light and purposeful as she sought out a Mangkwan scout. With a healer's gentle facade masking her venom, she slipped him a message etched on a leaf. The location of the Omatikaya's hidden holding ground, the precise hut where you were kept. Satisfaction curled her lips as she watched him dispatch immediately after hissing at her.
Varang would come, of that she was certain, and once you were ripped away, the stain you'd left on Neteyam's heart would fade, leaving her path clear.
She bided her time with calculated grace, weaving herself deeper into the fabric of the Sully family.
Mornings found her at Neytiri's side in the healer's marui, her hands steady as she ground herbs for poultices, her voice soft with feigned humility, adoration shining in her wide eyes as she praised Neytiri's wisdom. Evenings brought her to Jake, offering insights on the refugees' wounds, her touch lingering just a fraction too long on his arm as she murmured concerns for the clan's future.
Approval warmed their gazes, nods of encouragement that fueled her ambition. Everything unfolded as she envisioned. His parents' favor solidified, pressure mounting on Neteyam to seal the bond before the shadows of war encroached further.
One humid afternoon, as the sun dipped toward the canopy in a blaze of amber, Alayni slipped into your hut unannounced, the flap rustling like a conspirator's whisper.
You lay there, wrists still secured to the low beam overhead, your frame stretched out on the mat, the faint sheen of sweat tracing the elegant hollows of your collarbones. Your azure skin glowed softly in the diffused light, the subtle freckles across your shoulders like scattered stars, and your chest rose in steady rhythms.
She knelt beside you, her posture demure yet predatory, knees folding gracefully onto the earth as her tail flicked with restrained triumph. Her fingers brushed the edge of the mat, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from your body.
"So this is where my soon-to-be mate has been occupying himself with." She said, voice honeyed with mock pity as a saccharine smile curved her lips, eyes glinting with malice.
You stared at her blankly, eyes narrowing slightly as you took in her features.
"Who?" You asked tone flat, your head tilting just enough to let a braid slip over your shoulder, brushing the firm flesh of your bicep.
Her grin widened, sweet as overripe fruit, revealing the gleam of her teeth as she leaned closer, the scent of healing herbs clinging to her like a veil.
"Neteyam." She purred, the name rolling off her tongue with possessive delight, triumph lacing the revelation. "We will be mated earlier than planned, as per his parents."
Something twisted in your chest. A sharp unexpected clench that stole your breath like thorns snagging delicate vines. Your heart stuttered, a betraying ache blooming beneath your ribs, but you schooled your features into impassive stone, the high planes of your cheekbones unchanging, your gaze steady as unyielding rock.
All this time, his whispers, his hands mapping your skin like sacred territory, his stolen kisses that left you breathless and conflicted, they were lies woven around another. A potential mate waiting in the wings while he toyed with you, the enemy captive.
Sick demon bastard.
"Put him on a leash then." You replied, forcing a grin that mirrored hers, malice flashing in your stare like lightning over ash plains, your voice dripping with feigned amusement. "So your future mate will stop coming to pester me."
The words tasted like bile but you held the expression as you met her stare head on.
Meanwhile, across the camp in the central marui, Neteyam stood rigid before his parents, the air thick with the scent of spiced tea and unresolved tension.
Jake's broad frame filled the space, his scarred arms crossed over his chest while Neytiri sat poised nearby, her fingers tracing patterns on a woven mat, golden eyes watchful.
The news fell like a stone into still water. A mating with Alayni, sealed in just one month's time, earlier than tradition dictated, a safeguard against the uncertainties of leadership should fate claim both Jake and Neytiri in battle.
"It's for the clan, son." Jake said, voice gravelly with finality, concern etching deeper lines into his brow, clapping a hand on Neteyam's shoulder, the weight meant to ground him.
Neytiri nodded, her tail curling supportively around her leg gentle resolve in her tone. "Alayni is devoted and strong, she is who we have chosen. She will stand beside you as Olo'eyktan's mate."
Fury burned through Neteyam's veins, hot and unquenchable, his jaw clenching so tightly the muscles bunched along his sharp jawline.
He didn't want her. Not her shy glances, not her dutiful presence, they were chains disguised as comfort. No, his thoughts raced to you. The fire in your snarls, the beauty of your form yielding under his touch, the forbidden pull that consumed him. You, with your pretty eyes that pierced like arrows, your body a landscape he longed to claim eternally.
He said nothing, golden eyes darkening with suppressed rage, turning on his heel without another word. The marui's flap snapped shut behind him as he stormed toward your hut, craving the solace of your presence, the one anchor in this storm of obligation.
He pushed through the entrance, the dim interior unfolding before him like a betrayal frozen in time.
There you were, bound and defiant, but your face. Oh, Eywa, your face, it was lit with a grin that sliced deeper than any blade. The malicious glint in your eyes was back, amplified tenfold, a savage spark that echoed the day he'd first seen you amid the raid's chaos, ash-streaked and commanding.
Beside you knelt Alayni, her expression a mask of innocence shattered by the scene.
"Look, your future mate is here." You said, the words laced with venomous glee as your grin widened, teeth flashing as you tilted your chin upward.
The coldness in your stare pinned him, stripping away the fragile warmth he'd coaxed from you over weeks of stolen intimacies.
Neteyam stiffened, his broad chest heaving with a sharp inhale, the lean planes of his abdomen tensing beneath his harness.
You knew. The progress, the softening glances, the reluctant leans into his embrace crumbled to dust before his eyes. Alayni had poisoned it all, her meddling a dagger to his desires.
His gaze flicked to her, fury igniting like dry tinder. Without a word, he lunged forward, large hand wrapping around Alayni's slender wrist in a grip of iron, frustration boiling over in the tremble of his fingers. He dragged her up and out, her body stumbling in his wake, the flap whipping shut behind them.
You watched them go, the grin on your lips turning colder and sharper, like frost on volcanic glass a hollow ache gnawing at your core despite the armor. They did look good together, her demure form tucked against his towering strength, a picture of clan-approved harmony. And that truth stung more than any admission, a barb lodging deep, twisting with the realization of your own foolish vulnerability.
Outside, in the shadowed alcove between huts, Neteyam released Alayni with a shove, whirling on her as a hiss escaped his throat, low and guttural rage vibrating through the sound, his ears pinning back flat against his braided hair.
"What did you tell her?" He demanded, golden eyes blazing, the sharp angles of his face hardened into lines of accusation, his tail lashing like a whip.
Alayni glanced up at him through her lashes, the gesture shy and fluttering, feigned innocence veiling the satisfaction in her depths, rubbing her wrist with delicate fingers.
"That we will be mated in a month." She replied softly, voice trembling just enough to evoke pity, a subtle pout forming on her lips.
Neteyam growled, the sound rumbling from his chest like distant thunder, frustration etching fury across his features, stepping closer until his shadow engulfed her.
"You ruined everything." He snarled, fists clenching at his sides, the cords of muscle in his forearms standing out in stark relief.
"I was just saying the truth." Alayni countered, chin lifting with quiet defiance, resolve strengthening her tone, eyes locking onto his. "Especially since it's been blessed by your parents. It's for the good of the clan, Neteyam."
He opened his mouth to retort, words of denial and desperation bubbling up, but the air shattered with a deafening roar. Explosions ripped through the camp, blooms of fire and ash erupting from the perimeter like vengeful spirits unleashed. The ground trembled, screams piercing the night as warriors scrambled, bows drawn and ikran screeching overhead. Mangkwans, fierce shadows descending from the shadows, their forms painted in war cries and fury.
They had come for you.
The chaos erupted like the fury of Eywa's wrath, the night sky fracturing with bursts of flame and acrid smoke that clawed at the senses.
Neteyam froze at the threshold of the marui, his hand outstretched toward the flap, every fiber of his being screaming to reach you, to shield you from the encroaching storm. But another explosion thundered closer, shaking the woven platform beneath his feet, the ground vibrating with the impact of Mangkwan ikrans diving from the shadowed cliffs. Warriors' cries pierced the air, sharp desperate calls to arms and he knew with a sinking dread, that duty bound him first.
His golden eyes lingered on the shadowed interior for a heartbeat longer, the pull toward you a magnetic ache in his chest before he spun away, muscles coiling like a predator's as he sprinted into the fray. m
Alayni stood forgotten in the dust, her form shrinking in his wake as he vanished among the leaping shadows of Omatikaya defenders.
Inside the marui, the world tilted on its axis. You had barely settled back against the mat, the vines around your wrists a familiar rasp against your skin, when the first boom reverberated through the walls, deep and ominous, like the rumble of volcanic depths stirring awake. Your eyes snapped open, head lifting as the air grew thick with the scent of scorched earth and distant blood.
What was this? Another raid? Or something far worse, born of the tensions that had simmered since your capture?
The flap burst open without warning, a silhouette materializing in the torchlight like a specter from the ash plains. Tall and imposing, her frame clad in the jagged armor of Mangkwan war paint, stripes of obsidian gleaming across her broad shoulders and down the powerful lines of her thighs.
Varang, your sister, the unyielding force of your clan, stepped forward, her presence filling the space with an electric menace, her tail lashing once in sharp triumph.
"Little tsmuke." She rumbled, voice low and edged with possessive glee, a fierce grin splitting her face, revealing the sharpened points of her canines as her amber eyes locked onto yours with predatory affection.
Your breath caught, a surge of relief flooding through you like cool rain on parched soil, your body shifting upright despite the bindings, the subtle flex of your toned abdomen drawing the loincloth's edges taut against your hips.
"Varang." You whispered, the word laced with raw vulnerability, hope flickering in your gaze, your full lips curving into a tentative smile that softened the sharp beauty of your features. "You came for me?"
She moved with purposeful strides, her large hands reaching for the vines with swift efficiency, slicing through them with a hidden dagger that flashed in the dim light. The fibers parted with a soft snap, and freedom rushed back into your limbs, a tingling warmth spreading from your wrists as you rubbed the faint red marks blooming on your azure skin.
Varang's grin widened, menacing and triumphant, her broad chest heaving with barely contained energy, the intricate scars across her collarbone catching the fire's glow like badges of conquest.
"Yes." She said, tone brooking no delay, commanding resolve in her stance as she gripped your arm, pulling you to your feet with effortless strength. "Come."
You followed her out into the night, the marui's warmth giving way to the chaotic symphony of battle.
The village platform teemed with motion. Omatikaya warriors leaping between branches, their forms blurring as they nocked arrows and unleashed volleys into the descending horde. Mangkwan fighters swarmed from the treeline, their ikran shrieking as they clashed mid-air, talons raking through flesh and wing. Explosions bloomed sporadically, grenades of volcanic powder hurled by your kin, igniting the underbrush in furious orange. The air hummed with the twang of bowstrings and the guttural roars of combat, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the earthy musk of sweat-soaked bodies.
Your bare feet padded softly over the woven walkways, heart pounding in sync with the frenzy, your unbound arms swinging freely for the first time in weeks, the cool night breeze kissing the exposed curves of your waist and the gentle swell of your breasts beneath the beaded strands.
Then, amid the turmoil, you spotted her. Alayni, huddled against a nearby post, her slender frame trembling in the flickering light, wide eyes darting as if seeking an anchor in the storm.
Varang strode past without a flicker of acknowledgment, her focus laser-sharp on escape but you couldn't hold back.
A snarl tore from your throat, low and feral fury igniting in your gaze, your lips peeling back to expose teeth in a vicious baring, the line of your neck tensing as you leaned toward her.
Varang's hand clamped down on your shoulder, firm and unyielding, halting your advance mid-step.
You glanced up at her, confusion etching across your face, the high cheekbones flushing faintly with the heat of your anger.
"She was the one who told us where you were. I would have cut her kuru off but we will be wasting time." Varang explained, voice a gravelly murmur as disgust curled her upper lip.
The revelation hit like a spear to the gut.
This fucking bitch, going to such depraved extremes just to claim Neteyam? Betraying her own people, inviting destruction upon them for a twisted shot at his bond?
Rage and amusement simmered in your veins, hot and unfiltered, but you channeled it into a smirk, slow and menacing, your eyes narrowing to slits that gleamed with cruel intelligence. You stepped closer to Alayni despite Varang's hold, your posture shifting into one of mocking poise, the graceful sway of your hips accentuating the lithe power in your legs.
"You became a traitor to your people just to have him?" You taunted, voice silky with venom as a low chuckle bubbled up, your head tilting to let a braid sway against the smooth plane of your shoulder. "Do you think you'd be mated with him once they found out you were the one who caused this destruction, their deaths?"
You giggled then, the sound cruel and crystalline, echoing like shattering glass amid the distant clamor, your laughter laced with derision as you watched her eyes sharpen, the shy facade cracking to reveal the venom beneath.
Alayni's features twisted, her soft mouth compressing into a thin line, but she forced a grin in return, brittle and defiant, her hands clenching at her sides, knuckles paling against her blue skin.
"No one will know." She hissed, the words dripping with false sweetness, a predatory glint flashing in her gaze, her chin lifting in haughty challenge. "Because you won't be here anymore to tell him."
You met her stare with a taunting calm, your smirk unwavering, the corners of your mouth quirking upward in serene mockery, your body relaxed yet poised, the subtle rise and fall of your chest betraying none of the storm within.
Varang's fingers dug into your arm then, urging you onward with a sharp tug, her massive form shielding you as she propelled you toward the edge of the platform.
"Enough." She growled, impatience sharpening her tone, her free hand gesturing toward her waiting nightwraith in the shadows.
Hesitation gripped you like invisible chains, heavier than the vines ever were.
Over those endless days and nights, fondness had crept into your heart for Neteyam. Unwanted and insidious, a warmth that bloomed in the wake of his persistent touches, his whispered promises that now rang hollow. You had grown accustomed to the way his golden eyes softened for you, the reverence in his caresses tracing the valleys of your spine, the heat of his body pressing close in the dim hut.
But to stay?
To linger as their prisoner, forced to witness him bound to this scheming viper in a month's time? No. The betrayal stung deeper than any wound. He had lied, omitted the truth of his impending mating while his hands roamed your skin, murmuring of futures intertwined, of desires that now felt like cruel jests. Your chest tightened, a sigh escaping your lips, soft and resigned, your shoulders slumping ever so slightly, the curve of your back arching as you drew in the smoky air you were familiar with.
You ran then, matching Varang's powerful strides, your legs carrying you with renewed vigor over the swaying bridges, the wind whipping through your hair and cooling the flush on your cheeks. The battle raged around you, but your focus narrowed to escape. The distant calls of your ikran, the path to freedom amid the chaos. Behind you, the marui faded into the night, a chapter closing with bitter finality.
Minutes stretched into an eternity of skirmishes before Neteyam could break free, his bow still humming from the arrows he'd loosed into the fray, his chest heaving with exertion, streaks of soot marring the defined ridges of his torso. He raced back to the marui, ignoring the sting of superficial cuts along his arms, his mind a singular blaze.
You.
Bursting through the flap, he scanned the interior, the empty mat, the severed vines scattered like discarded shackles. His heart plummeted, a cold void yawning in his chest, the lean muscles of his frame going rigid as denial clawed at him.
He whirled out, golden eyes landing on Alayni, who lingered outside, her posture a picture of feigned distress, arms wrapped around her slender waist as if to ward off the night's terror. He ignored the way she reached for him, her fingers brushing his elbow and fixed her with a glare that could shatter stone.
"Where is she?" He demanded, voice rough and edged with panic, his jaw clenching, the sharp planes of his face taut with desperation, tail flicking erratically behind him.
Alayni's expression crumpled into one of artful fragility, her wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears, lashes fluttering as she gazed up at him, her voice emerging soft and quivering, laced with sorrowful conviction. "She ran away, Neteyam. Her sister came and freed her. I told her you wouldn't want her to leave but she was happy to be free. Said she didn't want to be here... nor be in your presence."
Silence crashed over him like a tidal wave, his breath stalling in his lungs, the world narrowing to the echo of her words.
You really didn't like him. All those weeks,the stolen moments where your body arched into his, the fleeting softness in your gaze, the reluctant sighs that he mistook for yielding, they were illusions, born of captivity's coercion. You had endured him, nothing more, your responses a prisoner's survival, not a spark of true connection. The fire that had burned in his soul for you flickered and died, leaving only ashes in its wake, his heart turning to ice, numb and unyielding.
His broad shoulders sagged imperceptibly, the golden light in his eyes dimming to shadowed resolve.
Alayni stepped closer, her hand finding his arm again, this time with gentle insistence comfort threading her tone, a subtle smile curving her lips as she pressed the advantage. "It's okay, Neteyam. She is a Mangkwan, she's been wanting to escape. At least our people will have no problems anymore, and in a month, we will be mated."
He didn't pull away, the words settling over him like a shroud.
Acceptance seeped in, cold and inevitable, you did not want him, and perhaps it was time to let the obsession fracture, to forge ahead with the path laid before him by clan and kin. The battle's din faded to a distant roar as the warrior's mask slipped back into place, burying the remnants of his shattered longing for you.
Since then, weeks had slipped by like shadows fleeing the dawn, each day etching deeper lines of detachment into Neteyam's once-vibrant spirit. The lush canopy of the Omatikaya village hummed with its eternal rhythm, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant calls of ikran wheeling overhead, but for him, the world had dulled to a muted haze. His golden eyes, once alight with the fire, now stared out with a steely impassivity, scanning horizons not for wonder, but for threats to be neutralized.
The raid led by Varang had receded into memory, its scars healed on the village platforms, yet the wound it inflicted on him festered unseen, a quiet erosion of the warmth that had defined him.
Tuk, with her boundless energy and innocent delight, felt the chill most acutely. She bounded up to him one evening as he sharpened his blade by the communal fire, her small hands clutching a fresh weave of beads, iridescent stones and feathers intertwined in a pattern mimicking the bioluminescent vines that glowed at night. Her tail swished with eager anticipation, freckles dancing across her cheeks as she thrust the creation forward, her wide eyes sparkling with hope voice bubbling with excitement.
"Neteyam, look! I made this for you, it's like the stars we saw last eclipse!"
He paused, the whetstone halting mid-stroke against the obsidian edge, his broad shoulders tensing beneath the woven straps of his chest harness. For a fleeting moment, his gaze softened, tracing the delicate craftsmanship in her tiny fingers, the way the beads caught the sunlight and shimmered like captured fireflies. But the spark didn't ignite, no smile curved his lips, no playful ruffle of her hair followed.
Instead, he nodded curtly, resuming his task with mechanical precision, his jaw set in a firm line, voice flat and distant, devoid of the affectionate lilt she craved. "It's nice, Tuk. Put it with the others."
Her face fell, the joy draining like water from a punctured gourd, her ears drooping as she clutched the beads closer to her chest. She lingered for a beat, searching his profile, hoping for the brother who would scoop her up and declare it the finest gift Eywa ever bestowed. But he turned away, eyes fixed on the blade's gleaming surface, and she scampered off, shoulders slumped, the weave trailing forgotten in her wake.
The once-loving brother and son had hollowed into a shell, his movements efficient but soulless as if the essence that bound him to family and clan had been leeched away. All because of you, your escape a silent verdict on his delusions, a rejection that echoed in the empty spaces of his nights.
He threw himself into duties with relentless fervor. Leading patrols along the outer borders, training young warriors in the art of silent strikes, overseeing the weaving of new nets for the ikran handlers. His body moved with the grace of a predator, but his mind was a fortress, walled against reminiscence of you.
He avoided the routes where fate had first tangled your paths, the shadowed glades where Mangkwan raids had brushed too close to Omatikaya lands. No longer did he linger at the river's bend, where the water ran swift and clear, its banks lined with ferns that whispered secrets to the wind. Those places, once alive with the thrill of pursuit and stolen glances with you, now held only ghosts. He charted new paths, deeper into the heart of the forest, where the air grew thicker with the scent of moss and blooming nightflowers, forcing his focus to the tangible such as the snap of a branch underfoot or the distant roar of a thanator claiming territory.
Jake and Neytiri watched from afar, their concern a quiet storm brewing in stolen moments by their marui.
Jake's brow furrowed as he cleaned his rifle, a human relic he rarely touched these days, his massive frame leaning against a post, eyes tracking Neteyam's solitary figure vanishing into the treeline. The change had been stark, a full revolution from the son who joked with Lo'ak over shared kills to this impassive sentinel. It started after Varang's assault, the explosions that had torn through the night like Eywa's judgment, and though the Mangkwan leader had retreated with her forces, the aftermath lingered in Neteyam's silence.
"He's not himself." Jake murmured one evening, his voice rough with worry, arms crossed over his broad chest and the lines around his eyes deepening as he gazed at Neytiri.
Neytiri nodded, her braids swaying as she stirred a pot of herbal stew, the steam rising in fragrant curls that carried notes of healing roots. Her golden eyes, sharp and knowing, held a mother's intuition, tracing the invisible threads connecting her son's withdrawal to the captive who had slipped away.
"I think it is the Mangkwan tsakarem." She said, conviction lacing her tone, her tail curling thoughtfully around her ankle, fingers pausing on the wooden spoon as a memory of your face surfaced. "I believe she has woven herself into his thoughts. The attack... it freed her but it broke something in him."
Jake sighed, rubbing a hand over his braided mohawk, the weight of leadership pressing on him as surely as the humid air. They had suspected as much, the way Neteyam's gaze had lingered on the empty marui, the subtle flinch at mentions of Mangkwan scouts. But pushing him now, with the mantle of Olo'eyktan looming in a year's shadow, would only drive the fracture deeper.
"Let him be." He decided, voice resolute yet tinged with reluctance as be stood to clasp her shoulder, his callused palm warm against her skin. "He'll find his way. Duty will anchor him."
Alayni, meanwhile, bloomed in the vacuum of his detachment, her happiness a radiant veil masking the shadows of her deeds.
Two weeks until the mating ceremony and the village buzzed with preparations of fresh flowers woven into garlands and chants rehearsed under the great tree's glow. No one knew of her betrayal, the whispered coordinates she had passed to Varang's men, the calculated risk that had invited chaos to claim you and clear her path. To the clan, she was the dutiful future tsahik, her shy smiles and gentle hands a perfect counterpoint to Neteyam's stoic resolve.
She walked beside him now on a routine patrol, her steps light and synchronized with his longer strides, the sway of her hips accentuated by the fitted loincloth that hugged her slender curves. The sun filtered through the canopy in dappled patterns, gilding her azure skin and highlighting the subtle bioluminescent freckles dusting her collarbone. Alayni glanced up at him often, her dark eyes alight with unspoken triumph as a soft giggle escaped her lips, brushing a leaf from his arm, fingers lingering on the firm swell of his bicep.
"The forest feels peaceful today, doesn't it, Neteyam? Like Eywa is blessing our union already."
He nodded absently, his gaze fixed ahead on the winding path, the play of light and shadow across his chiseled features unchanging.
Accompanying her was duty, escorting his future mate through the clan's territories, ensuring her safety amid lingering threats from rival clans. His hand rested on his knife hilt, posture alert, the lean lines of his torso shifting with each measured step, sweat beading along the ridge of his spine from the midday heat. To him, it was rote, a task etched into the rhythm of leadership, devoid of the spark that had once ignited at your proximity.
But to Alayni, every moment was victory incarnate.
She had won, the enemy tsakarem fled, the obstacles in her way shattered, and soon his kuru would bond with hers under the eyes of the clan. Her heart raced with giddy elation, a flush warming her cheeks as she imagined the ceremony. His strong hands on her waist, the tsaheylu sealing their fates. She linked her arm through his pressing closer, the soft press of her breast against his side a deliberate intimacy, voice breathy with feigned shyness yet her eyes gleamed with possessive delight.
"I can't wait for the weaving of our kurus. It'll be perfect, won't it? Just us, forever."
Neteyam murmured agreement, the words automatic as his mind was elsewhere, on maps of patrol routes or on the warriors awaiting his command.
He tried with iron will to banish thoughts of you from the recesses of his soul. He would be Olo'eyktan soon, the weight of the clan on his shoulders, mated to Alayni in a union forged for stability and strength. There was no space for yearning, no indulgence for a ghost who had recoiled from his touch, who had fled at the first chance, eyes cold with disgust rather than desire. You hadn't loved him, your responses had been chains of circumstance, feigned to survive the cage of captivity.
The realization was a blade at his chest, twisting deeper with each suppressed memory.
Yet, in the quiet hours when the village slumbered and the stars wheeled overhead, your image weaseled in unbidden. He would lie on his mat, the thatch roof above him a barrier against the night's whispers but sleep evaded him. Visions assailed of the arch of your neck as you tilted your head in defiance, the silken glide of your skin under his fingertips during those stolen intimacies, the reluctant parting of your lips that he had mistaken for surrender. An ache bloomed in his chest like thorns embedding in its flesh, a hollow throb that echoed the void you had left.
He clenched his fists, nails biting into palms, forcing his breath steady as his eyes squeezed shut, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he willed the phantom away.
Duty. Clan. Future.
The mantra repeated, a shield against the erosion but the cracks persisted, widening with every heartbeat of his.
In the days that followed, the preparations intensified. Alayni flitted about with renewed purpose, her laughter ringing clearer as she helped Neytiri select ceremonial beads, her fingers deftly sorting the vibrant strands. Neteyam joined when required, his presence a steady anchor amid the festivities, but his smiles were rare, reserved for elders and children who demanded them.
Jake pulled him aside once, during a strategy session by the war council, his father's hand heavy on his shoulder voice gruff with concern, eyes searching his son's face for the boy he remembered. "Son, whatever haunts you, face it. Don't let it consume the leader you're becoming."
Neteyam met his gaze evenly, the golden depths unyielding as his shoulders squared with a nod crisp and final. "It's handled, sir. The clan comes first."
But as he walked away, the forest closing around him like a living shroud, the ache resurfaced again as a persistent whisper of what might have been, tangled forever in the undergrowth of his resolve.
Hours went by, the eclipse had long since painted the sky in deep indigo, the bioluminescent vines along the village platforms casting a soft ethereal glow that did little to ease the knot of worry twisting in Neytiri's chest.
She lay beside Jake in their marui, the rhythmic rise and fall of his broad back a testament to the exhaustion of leadership, his braided kuru draped loosely over the woven mat. But sleep eluded her, her golden eyes flicking toward the entrance flap, where the night sounds of Pandora filtered in.
Neteyam was late, far past the hour warriors returned from solitary vigils or patrols. Her eldest, the pillar of their family, had become a ghost in his own home, his steps silent and his words fewer than the stars above.
With a quiet resolve, she rose, her lithe form unfolding gracefully, the faint scars from old battles tracing faint lines along her arms like maps of survival. She draped a light shawl over her shoulders, the fabric whispering against her azure skin, and slipped out into the cooling air. The village slumbered, maruis dimly lit by inner fires, but her hunter's instincts guided her toward the outer platforms, where the great tree's roots intertwined with the earth.
There, perched on a low branch overlooking the valley, she found him. Neteyam with his back to her, broad shoulders slumped under the weight of invisible burdens. He stared upward, the starlight reflecting in the wet trails of tears carving paths down his cheeks, his golden eyes distant and shattered.
Her heart clenched like a fist around a thorn, a sharp ache blooming as she witnessed tears streaming freely from the face of her unbreakable son. In all her years, through battles and losses, she had never seen him cry. Not as a fierce young warrior facing his first hunt, not even when Kiri's visions had shaken the family to its core. These past weeks, he had been a hollow vessel, his laughter silenced, his touch withdrawn, but this vulnerability cracked the shell wide open, exposing the raw wound beneath.
She approached softly, her bare feet padding against the mossy wood, and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pulling his solid frame against her chest.
"My son." She murmured, her voice a gentle caress laced with sorrow, her chin resting on his shoulder, braids brushing his ear as she held him close. "What ails you? Speak to your sa'nok."
Neteyam sighed, a heavy exhale that carried the weight of unspoken tempests, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He leaned into her embrace, the tension in his neck easing fractionally, but words remained locked behind clenched teeth.
How could she understand?
The gravity of his love for you, a Mangkwan woman, an enemy incarnate had pulled at him like an undertow, drowning his sense of self. Each day chipped away at his resolve, the choice between duty to clan and the selfish pull of his heart a torment that left him adrift. He was losing pieces of himself in the effort to bury the ache, to forge ahead as the future Olo'eyktan.
"I am tired." He finally whispered, his voice cracking as he wiped at his face with the back of his hand, the muscles in his jaw flexing as fresh tears welled. "I cannot do this anymore, Mom. The weight... it's crushing me."
Neytiri's heart fractured further at his confession, the raw despair in his tone echoing the cries of a wounded ikran. She tightened her hold, her arms encircling his torso, fingers splaying across the firm planes of his abdomen as if to anchor him to the world.
She had suspected for weeks that this shadow over him stemmed from you, the woman who had been his captive, the one whose escape had coincided with his unraveling. Whispers of your name in council meetings, the way his gaze sharpened at mentions of Mangkwan movements, it all pointed to a bond forged in secrecy and strife. But she said nothing, offering only the silent strength of her presence, her tail curling protectively around his leg. In the quiet, she sent a fervent prayer to Eywa, her mind weaving pleas through the neural network of the land.
Great Mother, guide my son through this storm. There must be purpose in his pain, a path unseen amid the chaos.
The night deepened around them, mother and son entwined in shared silence, until exhaustion finally claimed him, his head lolling against her shoulder. Neytiri guided him back to the marui, her steps steady despite the turmoil churning within.
Soon, dawn broke with the first calls of prolemuris swinging through the canopy, painting the forest in hues of gold and green. Neteyam rose with the sun, his face a mask once more, his eyes hooded and expression schooled into impassive resolve.
Today, duty demanded he scout the eastern fringes, perilously close to the glades where he had first glimpsed you weeks ago, your form a vision of lethal grace amid the raid's fury. He had avoided those paths like a festering wound but intelligence from outriders reported Mangkwan activity stirring anew and evasion was no longer an option.
He joined Jake and Neytiri at the ikran roost, along with a cadre of warriors.
Neytiri watched him from afar as he checked his bowstring, the morning light catching the subtle sheen of sweat on his brow from the humid air. Memories of the previous night flooded her, the vulnerability in his tears, the plea in his voice and now, seeing him revert to this emotionless sentinel, her worry deepened like roots delving into soil. His movements were precise and efficient but there was no spark, no anticipation in his posture.
Alayni hovered at the periphery, her presence a flutter of nervous energy amid the preparations. She had risen early, her cheeks flushed with the thrill of impending union, and now she approached Neteyam with a sway in her step, the beads of her top clinking softly. Without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his cheek, the kiss lingering a beat too long, her hand brushing the curve of his arm, voice soft and adoring, eyes sparkling with feigned innocence as she pulled back slightly.
"Stay safe, Neteyam. Come back to me whole."
He nodded, the motion mechanical, his golden eyes sliding past her without warmth, fixed instead on the horizon.
Neytiri observed the exchange, her tail flicking in subtle disapproval, the contrast between Alayni's eagerness and her son's detachment a stark reminder of the fractures in his spirit and the duty they had handed to him.
The group saddled their ikrans, the massive creatures rumbling with impatience, wings unfurling like sails in the breeze. Neteyam mounted with fluid ease, his thighs gripping the creature's sides, the bond forming through their queues in a pulse of shared intent. With a collective cry, they ascended, the wind whipping through braids and loincloths as the forest shrank below, giving way to the vast expanse of floating mountains and vine-draped cliffs.
The skies were clear at first, the patrol weaving through thermal updrafts, Jake leading with hand signals sharp and commanding.
But peace shattered like fragile crystal, an ambush erupting from the clouds and the forest below, Mangkwan warriors on their own direhorses and winged mounts descending in a hail of fire-arrows and poisoned barbs. Flames licked at the air, ignited by incendiary tips, while the sharp whistle of shafts cut through the roar of wings.
Neytiri and Jake unleashed war cries that echoed across the valleys, primal and fierce, their ikrans diving into the fray. Neteyam clenched his teeth, the familiar surge of battle adrenaline sharpening his senses, but beneath it thrummed a deeper tension, his heart pounding not just from the clash, but from the scan of faces below, searching for yours amid the chaos.
No sign of you and the absence twisted like a knife at him. Disappointment that you weren't there for him to see once more and yet relief that you remained untouched by this violence.
He urged his ikran higher, bow drawn in a blur, arrows flying true to fell two attackers in mid-air, their bodies plummeting with guttural cries.
On the ground, Neytiri broke from the aerial skirmish, her ikran landing with a thud amid the underbrush as she spotted Varang, her form a whirlwind of aggression with war paint streaking her face in crimson patterns.
They clashed blades, Neytiri's movements a dance of lethal precision, her body twisting to evade a swipe snarling with protective fury, eyes blazing as she parried, the clash of metal ringing like thunder. Jake and the other warriors followed suit, dropping to engage the Mangkwan foot soldiers, the forest erupting into a symphony of grunts, screams, and the sizzle of flames devouring foliage.
Neteyam circled above, his ikran banking sharply to loose another volley, the wind tearing at his queue as he targeted a rider closing on Kiri's position.
It was going well, the Omatikaya numbers swelling as reinforcements crested a ridge until a shadow flickered in his periphery. An arrow, swift and unerring, punched into his chest just below the collarbone, the impact a searing bloom of agony that stole his breath. His grip faltered, the bow slipping from numb fingers, and he tumbled from his ikran, the world spinning in a vortex of sky and green.
Neytiri gasped, her head snapping upward mid-fight, horror etching her features as she saw her son plummeting as a dark silhouette against the sun. Jake's roar joined hers, raw and desperate as his face contorted in dread, fists clenching around his knife as he shouted orders to cover.
Neteyam fell far, the ground rushing up mercilessly as his body slammed into the earth with a sickening thud, head bouncing against a root, his vision exploding in stars before blackness edged in.
"Neteyam!" Neytiri's scream tore from her throat, a mother's anguish that pierced the din of battle.
The spot where he fell into was an inferno's cradle, flames from stray arrows encircling the clearing, vines crackling and popping as they fed the blaze. Smoke billowed thick and acrid and without intervention, the fire would claim him, his labored breaths already ragged from the embedded shaft and the impact of the fall.
You arrived on the fringes of the skirmish, the scene unfolding like a nightmare etched in firelight. Your eyes widened at the sight, Neteyam crumpled amid the chaos, his chest heaving around the protruding arrow, blood staining the azure expanse of his torso in rivulets that soaked his harness. Your heart clenched as a vise of unwelcomed emotion squeezed it tight, the pulse of it echoing in your ears over the clash of weapons. Torn, you gripped your bow tighter, gaze flicking to your sister locked in combat with Neytiri then to your warriors pressing the attack.
Aid them, your people and your blood or the enemy who had haunted your thoughts, his touch a ghost that lingered in fevered dreams?
He's the enemy. Let him burn, let the flames erase the complication he brought to my life.
You turned your back, the wind catching the loose strands of your braids, whipping them across your face like accusations. But your body halted, muscles locking as if Eywa herself rooted you in place.
You couldn'tâwouldn'tâleave him to this end.
The weight of what passed between you, the tangled web of resentment and reluctant pull, demanded closure. This would be the last, a one final act to sever the thread, to walk away unburdened. With a curse under your breath, you ran to him, your legs carrying you through the underbrush.
The heat battered you as you reached the flames' edge, the air shimmering with intensity but you plunged in, hauling his weighty form by the arms. His body was heavy, limp yet solid, shoulders broad and unyielding even in unconsciousness, the corded strength of his arms dragging across the scorched earth.
You pulled him free, grunting with effort, the muscles in your back flexing under the strain. Laying him on clearer ground, you assessed the damage. The arrow jutting from his chest, fletching charred at the edges, blood pulsing steadily from the wound, soaking the ground in dark pools.
You bit your lip, the sharp sting grounding you as concern warred with caution.
The severity was dire, his pulse thready under your probing fingers. But you were not just a mere warrior, you were also a healer and a tsakarem, healing coursed through your veins like the forest's lifeblood even with the violence in your being.
Kneeling beside him, your hands moved with practiced urgency, pressing woven leaves from your pouch against the entry to staunch the flow, murmuring ancient invocations to Eywa for mercy. The herbs' bitter scent mingled with the metallic tang of blood, your fingers smeared crimson as you worked, the curve of your neck arching forward in concentration, eyes fierce with determination.
Varang spotted you from across the fray, her snarl twisting her features mid-clash with Neytiri, eyes narrowing in disbelief and fury voice booming over the din, laced with betrayal as she parried a strike. "(Y/N)! What are you doing? Come, we have to leave!"
Neytiri, locked in the duel, glanced toward the sound, her gaze landing on you bent over her son, a flicker of stunned gratitude warring with the battle's rage in her.
More Omatikaya warriors surged forward, tipping the scales, forcing the Mangkwan to retreat.
You didn't turn, didn't acknowledge the call. Your focus absolute, hands pressing firmly to seal the wound, willing his life to hold.
Varang shot you one last glare, venomous and pained, before snarling at Neytiri with a guttural promise of unfinished business and then she signaled the fall back. Her warriors melted into the trees, their forms thundering away, leaving the air thick with smoke and the echo of conflict.
Your focus narrowed to the rise and fall of Neteyam's chest, each shallow breath a fragile tether to life, the arrow's shaft now crudely bound but the wound beneath pulsing with insistent threat. Sweat beaded along your temple, tracing a cool path down the arch of your cheekbone, your eyes locked on his face, the sharp angles softened in unconsciousness, the full curve of his lips parted as if in silent plea.
You didn't notice the delicate swirl of an atokirina, that ethereal seed of Eywa, drifting lazily on an unseen current, hovering above you both like a benediction unspoken.
Neytiri saw it, though. Her golden gaze catching the pale spinner as it lingered, a luminous point against the hazy sky, before floating onward. Her breath hitched, a profound shiver rippling through her frame, her shoulders seeming to pulse in quiet awe.
Eywa's will.
She broke from the fray with Jake at her side, their footfalls urgent through the trampled ferns, weapons still gripped tight but lowered in the face of this revelation.
You sensed their approach before you saw them, the rustle of leaves and the heavy cadence of warrior steps pulling your attention. Instinct flared of enemies closing in and you hissed low, a feral sound vibrating from your throat as you shifted away from Neteyam, your body coiling like a viper ready to strike. Your tail lashed behind you, the tip slicing the air with agitation, while your fingers twitched toward the knife at your hip, the leather sheath warm against your hip bone.
They were still foes, the Omatikaya who had chained you and humiliated you and you'd meet them with fangs bared, your toned legs braced against the earth, ready to spring.
Jake opened his mouth, his broad jaw setting with the intent to command, but Neytiri's voice cut through first, steady and resonant, her eyes fierce yet softened by gratitude, one hand extended palm-up in a gesture of uneasy truce. "You will come with us."
He paused, confusion flickering across his scarred features, but he moved without protest, kneeling to gather Neteyam's limp form. The future leader's weight sagged in his father's arms, head lolling against Jake's shoulder, the azure skin of his neck exposed in vulnerable slackness.
Other warriors converged, their ikrans circling low with throaty calls, assisting as Jake hoisted Neteyam toward the nearest mount, muscles bulging under the strain along his arms and back, the harness straps digging into his flesh.
You snarled at Neytiri, the sound raw and defiant, your tail flicking sharper now, brushing against the back of your calves as your fangs glinted in the dappled light. Your posture was rigid with suspicion as you rose to your full height, the beaded strands of your top shifting with the heave of your chest. "I will not be your captive again. Touch me and I'll carve my freedom from your hides."
Neytiri regarded you, her own tail curling thoughtfully at her side, the fire in your eyes mirroring the unyielding spark she knew from her own youth, the same blaze that had drawn Jake to her across clan lines.
Mercy stirred in her chest, unbidden and perplexing. Was it the debt of your aid to her son or the atokirina's silent sign that compelled her?
She straightened, her silhouette cutting a commanding figure against the fading smoke, voice firm and laced with an undercurrent of respect as she turned toward her ikran. "You will not be captive. You saved him, pulled him from Eywa's grasp. I believe the Great Mother has plans. Come, you waste time."
Suspicion coiled tight in your gut, a serpent ready to strike, yet beneath it hummed an inexplicable pull. A whisper urging yes, born of exhaustion, of the chaos you'd wrought by choosing him over your kin.
You hissed once more, baring your fangs in a final warning as your lips curled back, the sharp points catching the light as your ears flattened against your skull. "Lie to me and I will not hesitate to draw my blade even if it means my end."
She met your gaze without flinching, recognizing the kindred fire, the warrior's unbreaking will. With a nod, she mounted her ikran, the bond queue connecting in a soft neural sigh, wings unfurling with a leathery snap.
You approached cautiously, every sense alert. The warmth of the creature's hide under your palms as you swung up behind her, your thighs clamping around its sides, the curve of your hips settling against Neytiri's back. The ascent was swift, wind tearing at your braids, carrying the scent of singed earth and distant rain as the group soared towards their home.
The village emerged like a living tapestry below.
Jake dismounted first upon landing, Neteyam's body cradled securely in his arms, the young warrior's limbs dangling limply, blood crusting along the wound's edges. He ran toward Mo'at's healing marui, feet pounding the woven platforms, Neytiri and you following at a urgent pace.
Eyes turned as you passed, Omatikaya faces hardening at the sight of your Mangkwan markings, the ash remnants of war paint streaking your arms and thighs, whispers rippling like wind through reeds. You ignored them, chin lifted defiantly, your strides long and purposeful, the sway of your hips fluid despite the knot of unease in your belly.
Inside the marui, the air hung thick with the aroma of medicinal pastes and smoldering herbs, shelves lined with jars of glowing extracts. Mo'at moved with ancient grace, her wrinkled skin etched with the wisdom of seasons, drawing Neteyam onto a low pallet woven from supple vines. Her hands, gnarled yet precise, peeled back the hasty bandages you'd applied, assessing the damage with a cluck of her tongue as her eyes narrowed in concentration, fingers probing the inflamed flesh around the arrow's path.
You shifted uncomfortably near the entrance, arms crossed over your chest, the soft swell of your breasts pressing against the crossed forearms, your bare midriff taut with tension.
What madness had brought you here, into the heart of enmity? Why save this man, the one whispered to be bound to another in mating rites, his future woven without you?
Once assured of his survival, you'd slip away, beg for Varang's mercy, atone for the betrayal etched in your choice to heal, to drag him from flames.
Neytiri noticed the storm brewing in your eyes, the way your shoulders hunched slightly under invisible weight. She guided you to a woven mat beside her, her touch light on your elbow as she settled cross-legged.
"Sit. The weight you carry shows in your eyes."
Jake hovered nearby, his confusion etched in the furrow of his brow, arms still bearing faint smears of his son's blood as he glanced between you and Neytiri, tone edged with bewilderment. "Neytiri, why bring her? She's Mangkwan, an enemy blood in our home."
Mo'at's voice rose then, steady and authoritative, cutting the tension as she worked a poultice into the wound her movements rhythmic, the paste's earthy scent filling the space. "He is in critical condition. The arrow pierced deep, nicking the lung's edge. Without the temporary aid to stem the bleeding, he would have crossed to Eywa's embrace already."
Both parents turned to you, realization dawning as Neytiri's gaze held quiet thanks, Jake's a grudging respect.
"And the head trauma is severe, his skull bruised from the fall so visions may haunt him upon waking. He will recover but stress must be barred from his path. No extremes of anger or despair, lest the balance tip and fracture his spirit. Do not put him in situations where he will experience such."
Jake and Neytiri nodded solemnly, Jake's hand squeezing his mate's shoulder, resolve hardening his features. "We'll guard him like the tree itself."
You sat quietly, the breath easing from your lungs in a slow sigh of relief, your fingers unclenching from where they'd dug into your palms, leaving crescent marks on the soft pads.
He would live, the man whose golden eyes had pierced your defenses, whose touch lingered like a forbidden echo.
Neytiri looked at you then, not through the lens of a deadly warrior but as a mother whose heart swelled with gratitude, her expression softening, the lines around her eyes crinkling with unspoken emotion. "You have our thanks. Your hands brought him back to us."
Rising, you met her gaze steadily, your voice even despite the turmoil tail curling loosely at your feet, posture straightening with resolve. "He breathes. My part is done. I will leave now before your people remembers what I am."
She shook her head gently as her braids swayed, tone insistent yet kind, a hand gesturing to the marui's depths. "Stay the night. The forest paths grow treacherous after battle and dawn will light your way clearer. Tomorrow, go with Eywa's guidance."
Hesitation gripped you as visions of Varang's wrath flashed along with her snarl of betrayal but the offer Neytiri gave bought time, a buffer against the storm you'd unleashed. You nodded curtly, the motion causing a loose braid to slip over your shoulder, brushing the gentle slope of your collarbone.
Mo'at interjected, her voice carrying the weight of authority as she pointed to a partitioned alcove, the entrance draped in soft kelp weaves. "There is space in the marui for you. Rest there, no harm under this roof will fall upon you."
You inclined your head uncomfortably, the unfamiliar kindness chafing like ill-fitted armor, and retreated to the indicated area.
The partition muffled the outer sounds, but voices filtered in with familiar cadences of concern, perhaps Neteyam's siblings clustering with worried murmurs or that scheming Alayni's honeyed tones probing for weakness.
You sighed deeply, sinking onto the low sleeping platform, the woven fibers cool against your skin. Gazing at your hands, still faintly stained with his blood and nails chipped from the frantic extraction, you felt the weight crash down.
What have I done?
Varang's face loomed in your mind, her loyalty unyielding and yet you betrayed her, your blood for him. A traitor in your own eyes, cast adrift by a mercy you couldn't explain, the contours of your form curling inward as doubt gnawed at your thoughts.
The first light of dawn filtered through the woven walls of the marui, casting a soft glow that danced across the kelp partitions like whispers from the great tree itself.
You stirred from a fitful sleep, the platform beneath you cradling the subtle curves of your body with its resilient fibers, though no true rest had really come.
The air hummed with distant murmurs, low voices laced with concern, the rustle of movements that spoke of vigil. Neteyam's family, no doubt, gathered in their quiet desperation.
Your eyelids fluttered open, eyes adjusting to the dim interior, a stray lock of ebony hair falling across your forehead, brushing the high plane of your cheek as you sat up. The faint ache in your muscles from the previous day's chaos lingered, a reminder of the flames you'd pulled him from, your frame still bearing the subtle smudges of ash along your arms and the line of your neck.
Pushing aside the drape with a steady hand, you stepped into the main chamber, the cool floor mats yielding under your bare feet, toes curling slightly against the texture. There they were, clustered around Neteyam's pallet. Neytiri's poised form kneeling closest, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his azure skin, while Jake stood sentinel nearby, his broad shoulders tense.
The siblings hovered at the edges, Tuk's small hands fidgeting with a beaded string, Lo'ak's jaw set in watchful silence, and Kiri sitting to the side with a faraway look.
You remembered them from his stories when he was pestering you and you remembered how you tried so hard to tune him out as you rolled your eyes.
Neteyam's chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, his features serene in repose, full lips slightly parted as if dreaming of battles yet unfought.
Your gaze locked with Neytiri's across the space, her golden eyes holding a depth of unspoken understanding, the faint lines at their corners deepening as she rose fluidly. The others' stares prickled your skin. They were curious and wary, the weight of enmity pressing like unseen hands, save for Jake whose attention remained fixed on his son, oblivious or perhaps deliberately so.
You held your ground, chin lifting subtly, the soft undulation of your torso accentuated by the morning light as it played over the beaded strands draping your chest.
Her voice emerged, a hand extending in quiet invitation as she closed the distance, the warmth of her presence cutting through the chill of suspicion. "Are you about to head out? The paths await but let me see you safely beyond our borders."
You nodded once, the motion causing your braids to shift, one grazing the delicate hollow of your throat.
Before words could form, her fingers encircled your wrist, firm but not forceful, the calluses of a huntress brushing your smoother skin. "Okay, I'll take you with my ikran. The skies are clearer at this hour."
Together, you moved toward the exit, your steps synchronized in wary alliance, the chamber's herbal scents fading behind you. Halfway there, Tuk's voice pierced the air like a sudden arrow, high-pitched with unbridled joy as her tiny frame bounced as she pointed, eyes wide with wonder.
"Neteyam! You're awake!"
Neytiri gasped beside you, a sharp intake that reverberated through her body, her grip tightening momentarily on your arm before releasing as she whirled, long legs carrying her back in a blur of urgency. His family converged instantly, a protective circle forming around the pallet, voices overlapping in a cacophony of relief.
Jake's baritone cut through as his hand raised in caution, posture rigid as he scanned his children's eager faces. "Easy, give him space. Let him breathe."
You didn't turn, didn't allow the pull of curiosity to drag you back.
Relief flickered in your chest that he lived, that his spirit is unbroken but seeing him now, vulnerable and surrounded by their bond, stirred too much. Your tail flicked once, a subtle lash against your calf, as you fixed your gaze on the exit, the woven flap beckoning like freedom's edge.
A groan echoed from the pallet, low and pained, followed by Neytiri's voice, thick with emotion as tears glistened on her lashes then spilling down the curve of her cheek as she cupped his face, her thumbs tracing the strong line of his jaw.
"Ma Teyam, my child, you're awake. Eywa has returned you to us."
Neteyam's first words hung in the air, raspy yet insistent, freezing you mid-step as his voice threaded confusion and longing, golden eyes blinking open to search the faces around him. "Where's my mate?"
Your heart clenched like a fist around a thorned vine, a sharp twist that stole your breath, the muscles of your back tensing beneath the thin straps of your top.
He meant her, that conniving soft-spoken healer, the one fate had chained him to.
The betrayal you'd wrought for his sake soured further, urging you toward escape, but Neytiri remained entangled in the moment, her form a barrier you couldn't breach without drawing eyes.
He spoke again, urgency sharpening his tone as he propped himself up slightly on one elbow, the defined planes of his abdomen flexing under the strain, beads of sweat gathering along his collarbone. "Where is my mate? Why is she not here? Where is (Y/N)?"
Silence crashed over the marui like a sudden storm, thick and suffocating, broken only by the faint crackle of a nearby incense burner. You couldn't believe the words echoing in your ears. Your name on his lips like a claim, a delusion born of fever or fracture. His family still shielded him, their bodies a living wall, blocking any chance of his gaze finding you.
What madness gripped him?
Jake broke the hush, his voice measured, laced with concern as he kneeled closer, one large hand resting on Neteyam's shoulder, fingers splaying across the flesh there. "Kid, what do you mean mate? Talk to me, clear your head."
Neteyam frowned, confusion etching furrows across his forehead, his ears twitching slightly as he tilted his head, the kuru at his back shifting against the pallet as he scanned the circle of faces. "Huh? She's my mate. What do you mean what do I mean, Dad? We chose each other, it is done."
Neytiri exchanged a fleeting glance with Jake, her expression a mask of reassurance as she smiled gently, though her eyes held a storm of questions as she leaned in, her braids falling forward to brush his arm. "What's the last thing you remember, Ma Teyam? Tell your sa'nok, help us understand."
He groaned again, wincing as he pressed a hand to his temple, his fingers threading through his hair as his voice faltered, piecing together fragments like scattered leaves.
"We were together in the forest... deep in the glade, away from eyes. We mated, bound our kuru. I remember the warmth of her, falling asleep in her arms... then nothing. I woke up now. Why am I here? Where is she?"
Jake's mouth parted, words forming on the edge of his tongue but Neytiri's hand clamped onto his forearm, urgent and unyielding as her nails digged lightly into his skin, a silent reminder of her mother's grave warning, her gaze flicking to the tsahik for affirmation.
No stress, no shadows to cloud his fragile recovery.
Mo'at inclined her head subtly from her perch nearby, her weathered features serene, the wisdom in her eyes underscoring the peril of truths unspoken.
However, shock rippled through you like a current, your pulse thundering in your ears, the arch of your neck flushing with heat.
What sorcery had befallen this demon blood?
The forest encounter, the stolen touches, and the heated whispers had been a fever dream of his desire, not a true bonding. Yet here he proclaimed it as reality, your name woven into his delirium.
Your fingers curled at your sides, nails biting into palms, the soft pads whitening under pressure.
Jake rose then, his frame casting a long shadow as he leaned toward Neytiri whispering low, his jaw clenched in resolve. "I'll get Norm, let him scan the boy's head, figure out what's twisted in there."
He straightened, striding past you with purposeful steps.
You shifted sideways instinctively, pressing against the wall's curve, your body folding into the shadows to evade Neteyam's searching eyes, the faint scent of his blood still clinging to your skin like a ghost.
The drape parted again, admitting Alayni in a rush of hurried grace, her form halting abruptly at the sight of you lingering near the threshold. Her face fell, features draining of color, eyes widening in a flash of alarm as her lips parted in silent accusation, her tail coiling tight behind her as panic etched sharp lines around her mouth.
What is she doing here?
The enemy in their sanctum, everyone would know her schemes, the whispers of betrayal she'd sown.
You couldn't suppress the satisfied smirk curling your lips, a predatory glint in your gaze as you savored the tremor in her composure, the way her fingers twisted the hem of her wrap.
She glared daggers, a venomous spark in her eyes, before hurrying inside voice pitched with concern, dropping to her knees beside the pallet, her hand reached out to caress his cheek, nails grazing the smooth azure expanse. "Neteyam, are you okay? We've been so worriedâ"
He recoiled at her touch, jerking back with a hiss as his body tensed, shoulders hunching as if her fingers burned, golden eyes narrowing in instinctive rejection. "Don't touch me. My mate would not like that, keep your hands to yourself."
Alayni froze, confusion clouding her features as she glanced around the circle, her posture crumbling slightly. The gentle swell of her chest heaving with rapid breaths, seeking answers in their stunned expressions. First, you're here like some honored guest, unwatched and unchained and now Neteyam denying their bond, as if the ceremonies planned for days hence meant nothing.
"What do you mean? You have no mate, Neteyam. We will be mated in several days. It's all arranged, for the clanâ"
His stare was blank and unyielding as he leaned away further, the muscles along his arms corded with tension, voice flat with conviction that brooked no argument. "I am mated, Alayni. Do not disrespect me and her by saying that. I've chosen, Eywa witnessed it."
Alayni's mouth opened for protest, words tumbling forth in a desperate rush as her hands gestured wildly but Lo'ak's fingers closed around her wrist, firm and ungentle, his grip steady as he pulled her back with a warning growl low in his throat.
"Enough, let him rest. You're making it worse."
Neytiri forced a smile then, thin and strained as she rose to her full height, her frame interposing as she pried Alayni from Lo'ak's hold, guiding her toward the entrance with a maternal hand on her shoulder.
She had once favored the girl.
Her respectful demeanor, the sweet softness that promised stability for her son, the shy affections that bloomed like night flowers. It was why she'd championed the union, envisioning harmony in their future. But now, Alayni's invasiveness grated, a threat to the delicate balance of Neteyam's healing. What she'd once seen as endearing now loomed as disruption, especially with the girl's recent clinginess fraying nerves that are already taut.
Her tone remained even, laced with polite finality as she steered Alayni through the drape, the fabric whispering against their forms. "Go now, child, rest and prepare for the day's duties. He'll need quiet to mend, we'll call when he's stronger."
Alayni resisted briefly, a flicker of indignation in her eyes, but Neytiri's unyielding gaze quelled it. As she was ushered out, you caught her eye from behind Neytiri's shoulder, your smirk deepening into something triumphant as your lips curved wickedly, the sharp tips of your fangs peeking as you watched her retreat.
Stupid bitch, starting to pay her karma.
The satisfaction bloomed warm in your chest, a counter to the earlier ache at the unraveling the web she'd spun.
The marui's air thickened with the scent of medicinal herbs and lingering tension as footsteps approached from beyond the drape. The flap parted with a soft rustle, admitting Jake first followed by a figure that made your eyes narrow in instinctive distrust.
He was another of those sky people avatars, shorter and bulkier than the Na'vi around him, with blue skin stretched over an unfamiliar musculature, his movements jerky and mechanical as he hauled a satchel bulging with strange, gleaming devices. In your eyes, he was just another demon in disguise, his eyes too round and probing behind a mask of false familiarity.
Neteyam's family parted slightly to allow them access, his golden gaze widening in confusion propping himself up on his elbows despite the wince that tugged at his full lips, the cords of his neck straining as he tilted his head.
"Dad? Norm? What's all this?" His voice carried a mix of bewilderment and faint alarm, the sharp angles of his shoulders tensing beneath the thin covering draped over his torso.
Jake placed a reassuring hand on his son's arm, the gesture firm yet gentle. "Just a check-up, son. Norm here's gonna make sure everything's healing right, no big deal."
Norm nodded efficiently, unpacking his tools with practiced haste. A handheld scanner humming to life, its blue light flickering like captured bioluminescence, and thin probes that beeped softly as they connected to Neteyam's temple and chest. The warrior submitted with reluctant patience, his ears flicking at each unfamiliar sensation as his chest rose and fell in shallow rhythms, the bandaged expanse over his ribs shifting with each breath.
You remained unseen, a ghost in the periphery, gratitude coiling in your gut that he hadn't glimpsed you yet, sparing you the complication of his fractured gaze.
The assessment dragged on, Norm murmuring readings under his breath, Jake hovering like a sentinel. Finally, they withdrew, the group filing out into the humid morning air. Norm repacking his gear with a satisfied grunt, Mo'at gliding behind with her staff tapping rhythmically, Neytiri close at her heel, her posture a blend of maternal poise and veiled anxiety.
Curiosity tugged at you drawing your steps toward the exit despite the risk. You hovered just inside, the soft swell of your hips swaying faintly as you strained to catch their words, the faint breeze carrying snippets through the kelp weave.
Norm's voice filtered back, clinical and detached gesturing vaguely at the air as if diagramming an invisible wound.
"Selective amnesia, most likely from the trauma to his skull. Concussions like that can scramble memories, make him fill in gaps with what his mind wants to believe. It'll probably clear up with rest but no pushing him. Avoid contradictions, let it fade naturally."
Mo'at's response came sharp and authoritative, her aged frame straightening one hand raised in admonition. "Precisely. No stress, Jake Sully. His spirit is fragile as fresh-woven thread, negative winds could unravel it further."
Jake glanced over his shoulder then, his eyes locking onto yours through the partial drape.
You met his stare blankly, your expression a mask of cool indifference, the line of your jaw set firm, lashes casting shadows over your irises.
He sighed heavily, the sound rumbling from his chest like distant thunder as he rubbed a hand over his hair before nodding to Mo'at. "Understood. Thanks, Norm. Appreciate you coming out here on short notice."
He clapped the avatar on the back, steering him toward the path, their forms receding into the foliage.
Mo'at turned fully to you then, her wrinkled features softening into a knowing smile as she extended a gnarled hand in gentle summons, the beads on her bracelets clinking softly. "Come, child. He searches for you. Eywa's threads bind him still even in confusion."
Hesitation rooted you for a beat, your bare feet shifting against the mat, toes flexing into the fibers as doubt warred with obligation. But you moved forward, weaving through the siblings' loose circle, your presence rippling the air like a stone in still water. Neytiri observed from the side, her arms crossed over her chest, the arch of her back rigid with unspoken calculations.
Neteyam's eyes ignited at the sight of you, a spark of pure recognition and warmth flooding their golden depths as his face brightened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a boyish smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes. "Baby, where have you been? I've been calling for you. Come here, let me see you."
Words failed you, caught in the tangle of your throat like thorns. Your pulse quickened, the delicate skin at your wrists flushing as you glanced desperately at Neytiri. She stepped in seamlessly, her voice a soothing murmur kneeling beside him. "She was just helping Mo'at with some herbs, Ma Teyam. Nothing to worry over. You're safe now, all of us here."
He nodded absently, already shifting to rise as his elbows dug into the padding, his torso twisting with intent, the play of muscles along his flanks evident even through the strain. But a sharp hiss escaped him as pain lanced through his chest. He glanced down, fingers probing the white bandages wrapped taut around his ribs, tracing the edges where faint bloodstains bloomed, his brow furrowing in dawning alarm.
"What happened? Why am I... like this?"
Neytiri's response flowed quick and fabricated, her tail flicking once in reassurance as she pressed him back gently, palms flat against his shoulders. "A minor fall during a hunt, nothing more. You're mending well but rest is key. No straining this body of yours."
Lo'ak chimed in from his perch nearby, his tone laced with concern as he leaned forward, one hand hovering as if ready to steady him. "Yeah bro, don't push it. You've been out cold, give yourself a break."
Tuk, unable to contain her awe any longer, stared up at you with unabashed wonder, her small fingers twisting in her lap, round cheeks dimpling as she beamed, the innocence in her voice cutting through the heaviness.
"You're pretty like the glowing vines at night."
Neteyam caught the words, his grin widening into something radiant and possessive as he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest despite the wince it provoked, his gaze raking over you with unabashed adoration. "She is, isn't she? Eywa blessed me beyond measure with the most beautiful woman as my mate."
Heat bloomed across your cheeks, a traitorous warmth that clashed with the snarl building in your chest. Your fangs ached to bare but Neytiri's sharp glance pinned you, her eyes narrowing imperceptibly, a silent command as she rose.
"I'll speak with her first, important matters."
She drew you aside into a quieter nook, the privacy of the woven screen shielding your exchange, her sigh heavy with exhaustion as her shoulders slumped slightly, the taper of her ears drooping as she met your eyes. "Please, play along just until his memories return. It's a delicate weave we're threading here."
A hiss bubbled up, low and frustrated, your claws flexing at your sides, a flicker of resentment darkening your features.
This wasn't the plan. It was only saving him from the flames and slipping away into the wilds. But now pretending this farce of a bond?
It deepened the chasm with Varang, a blade twisted further into your sister's trust, your loyalty fracturing like dry earth under storm.
Yet you exhaled sharply, the breath stirring the beads at your throat. "Just for today then I'll leave. I've lingered too long already, debts are paid."
Gratitude softened Neytiri's gaze, her hand squeezing your forearm in quiet alliance. "Thank you. Eywa sees your heart."
Eywa, their false goddess.
You refrained from speaking it and returned to the pallet together, his siblings' eyes tracking your approach.
Mo'at interjected then, her voice carrying the weight of authority as she gestured toward the exit with her staff, the carved wood glinting. "He may leave the healing hut now. Rest in your family marui where care is close."
Neteyam's confusion creased his forehead anew as he tilted his head, his kuru swaying as he pushed to sit fully, ignoring the twinge in his side. "Why the family marui? I have our own, shared with my mate. That's where I belong, with her."
Neytiri froze for a heartbeat then mustered a feigned grin, her lips curving upward in playful conspiracy, though tension lined her jaw. "Oh yes, of course you can sleep there. Silly of us to forget."
Relief lit Neteyam's face, a grin splitting wide as he eased to his feet with Lo'ak's support, his brother's arm slung around his waist, the lean power of his legs steadying as he leaned into the aid.
You walked in silence beside Neytiri, your steps measured, the sway of your form guarded against his occasional glances.
She guided the group to a nearby empty marui, its entrance framed by dangling vines that swayed like welcoming tendrils, the interior sparse but inviting with a low cot piled with fresh furs.
"I'll bring your things later." Neytiri explained smoothly as she waved a hand at the empty space, her posture relaxed in fabrication. "You forgot them before, rushing off to tend to (Y/N). Always so devoted."
Neteyam nodded, his attention fixed on you. Golden eyes tracing the cascade of your braids down your back, the subtle glow of your skin under the filtered light, though you kept your gaze averted, fixed on the horizon.
Kiri approached then, her touch feather-light on your arm in a soft pat, wordless solidarity in her empathetic eyes before she stepped back.
Tuk waved enthusiastically as she bounced on her toes, her laughter bubbling. "Bye! Take care of him, he's grumpy when hurt!"
Lo'ak gave a curt nod and Neytiri mirroring it with a final meaningful look before they departed, leaving the marui's quiet to envelop you.
You lingered at the entrance, the woven threshold framing your silhouette, arms crossed over the gentle rise of your chest as Neteyam settled onto the cot, his form reclining against the bolsters, long legs stretching out, the bandage peeking from beneath his wrap as he watched you expectantly.
"Baby, what are you doing all the way over there? Come here. I've missed you too much already."
You restrained the urge to roll your eyes, the old grudge simmering within you. Alayni's shadow, the secrets he'd buried back then, it fueled a quiet fury that tightened your lips. With deliberate slowness, you crossed the space, perching on the cot's edge at a careful distance, the furs dipping under your weight, your thighs pressing together in restrained tension.
He frowned at the gap reaching out, his hand encircling your waist with insistent warmth, drawing you nearer until your hip brushed his, the heat of his body seeping through the thin barriers. "Why so far?"
Without waiting, he leaned in, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His breath ghosting over the sensitive skin there before his lips pressed soft lingering pecks along the column of your throat, tracing the pulse that fluttered beneath.
You shifted away slightly, a hand rising to his chest, gentle but firm against the bandaged expanse to halt him. "You must not move so much, your wound will reopen if you keep this up."
"I don't care, the ache is nothing compared to being without you." He dismissed it with a low hum undeterred, nosing deeper and inhaling your scent like a lifeline, his free arm looping around your midriff to anchor you. "You always smell so good."
Your eyes rolled despite yourself, exasperation sharpening your tone as you leaned back just enough to create space, though his hold persisted. "Do you not listen? Rest means rest, not this."
A grin curved his lips, playful and unrepentant as his eyes sparkled with mischief. He tilted his head, the sharp line of his jaw brushing your shoulder. "I do listen but my mate is just so irresistible. How can I resist when you're right here, pulling me like the tide?"
The words ignited a storm within you. The urge to drive your claws into his chest, to end this delusion with finality, to flee into the jungle's embrace, and beneath it all, a treacherous pull to lean in, to claim those lips and drown the betrayal.
Your breath hitched, eyes flashing as your voice dropped to a warning growl. "If you do not stop, you will sleep in your family's marui tonight, without me."
He chuckled, the sound rich and affectionate, as he tugged you flush against him now, his head resting on your shoulder, one hand tracing idle patterns along your arm, savoring the silken texture of your skin. "I don't want to be away from you, ever. Even for a night. You're my world, (Y/N). Tell me you feel it too. The bond, the pull. We've always been this way, haven't we?"
You stiffened, the weight of his touches pressing like chains, his body molding to yours, warm and insistent, nuzzling closer as if to weave your scents together anew.
"Neteyam..." It came out softer than intended, a conflicted murmur as your hand hovered over his, torn between pushing away and letting it linger. "Just... be still. For now."
He hummed contentedly and undaunted, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone, his fingers interlacing with yours, thumb stroking the back of your hand in slow circles. "As you wish but I'm not letting go of you."
The marui fell into a charged hush, his affection a balm and a burden, the line between pretense and peril blurring with every shared breath.
You spent the entire day ensnared in Neteyam's unyielding embrace, his body a constant insistent presence against yours. He was every bit the spoiled brat his amnesia painted him to be. Demanding, playful, and utterly oblivious to the storm raging within you. From the moment the morning light had fully crested the horizon, he refused to release your hand, his fingers interlaced with yours in a grip that was both tender and possessive, the calluses on his palms rough against your smoother skin.
"Feed me." He murmured during the midday meal, his voice a low rumble and laced with mischief.
He propped himself up on one elbow, the lean muscles of his forearm flexing as he gestured to the woven basket of fruits and roasted kelp strips. His golden eyes sparkled with expectation, the sharp angles of his cheekbones highlighted by the soft luminescence filtering in. You hesitated, the curve of your shoulders tensing beneath the lightweight shawl draped over them, but his pout, lips pursing in exaggerated plea, drew a reluctant sigh from you.
Slicing a piece of sweetfruit with your knife, its juice glistening on the blade like dew, you held it to his mouth. He leaned forward eagerly but paused just before taking it. His breath warm against your fingertips, eyes locking onto yours with feigned innocence.
"A kiss first." He demanded softly, tilting his head so his kuru brushed your thigh. "For every bite. It's our thing, remember?"
Irritation flared hot in your chest, your free hand itching to deliver a sharp smack to that smug jawline as the taper of his ears twitched in anticipation. Yet, beneath the annoyance, a treacherous warmth bloomed low in your belly, spreading like sunlight through mist. His affection, fabricated or not, wrapped around you like the humid air itself. You leaned in grudgingly, pressing your lips to his in a brief chaste touch, your mouth soft against the firm warmth of his, the faint taste of herbs from his earlier tonic lingering.
He hummed in satisfaction, finally accepting the fruit, chewing slowly while his gaze never left your face.
This ritual repeated through the afternoon. Bite after bite, kiss after kiss, each one pulling you deeper into the pretense. His laughter bubbled up between mouthfuls, light and carefree as his chest vibrated with the sound, though he winced slightly when it jostled his bandaged ribs, the white wrapping stark against his azure skin.
"You're too good to me." He said after one particularly lingering peck, his hand sliding up your arm to trace the delicate ridge of your collarbone. "How did I ever deserve you, baby?"
You only answered with an eye roll, willing yourself to calm.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the interior in hues of amber and violet, he grew more reflective, his clinginess evolving into quiet confessions. He pulled you onto the furs beside him, your legs tangling with his as he recounted the day he first laid eyes on you, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, fingers idly stroking the cascade of your braids that spilled over your shoulder.
"It was during that raid, I thought you were the most beautiful creature Eywa ever wove, all fire and grace in one breath. Even with your blade at my throat, I couldn't look away."
Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, your pulse thrumming in your ears as you absorbed his words. The memory twisted in your mind, the confrontation, the kiss that had ignited everything yet led to this tangled web. Finally, you broke the quiet, your voice steady despite the knot in your throat shifting slightly, the soft swell of your hips pressing into the furs as you turned to face him.
"What do you think of Alayni?"
He blinked, surprise flickering across his features, the smooth plane of his forehead creasing. "Alayni? She's... nice. She's been around since we were children, always helping with the young ones or joining hunts. Reliable, like a sister almost."
The answer hung there, innocuous yet loaded. You pressed further, curiosity sharpening your tone with your eyes narrowing, lashes casting faint shadows on your high cheekbones. "Do you like her?"
His eyes widened, golden irises flaring with incredulity, leaning back as if the question physically pushed him.
"Like her? How could you even ask that when I burn for you alone?" He shook his head, a soft laugh escaping him, though it carried an edge of disbelief. "She's shown her interest. Blushing around me, weaving extra beads for my gear but I don't see her that way. Never have. My heart's been yours from the start."
You wanted to roll your eyes, the truth bubbling beneath your restraint.
Oh yes, but you were set to mate her if fate hadn't intervened.
The words clawed at your tongue but you swallowed them, maintaining the fragile peace.
He studied your expression, a sly smile curving his lips as he reached out to cup your chin, thumb brushing the plush curve of your lower lip. "Are you jealous? Tell me baby, does it sting knowing others vied for me?"
A snarl ripped from your throat, low and feral as you bared your fangs briefly, the lines of your neck corded with tension as you pulled back from his touch. "No. Jealousy is for the weak. I'm merely curious about your tangled loyalties."
His smile deepened, brimming with adoration as his eyes softened, he drew you nearer, his broad palm splaying across the small of your back.
"Alayni was just one of the candidates my parents pushed before I met you. They thought her steady, a good match for a future Olo'eyktan." He paused, gaze distant, reliving the memory of when you left. "I came to the marui where you were that night, heart heavy because I'd just learned they'd chosen her. I didn't want it, I wanted you. So I went there to confess everything, to seek comfort in your arms but I saw you with her first. She told you, didn't she? But twisted it to make it seem like it was decided long ago, that I was playing you all along. She lied, (Y/N). It wasn't set in stone, I was ready to fight it from the moment I knew."
Your eyes grew wide, the revelation crashing over you, pupils dilating in shock as pieces clicked into place.
So he hadn't been deceiving you, not entirely. The betrayal you'd nursed, the fury at his supposed duplicity... it shifted, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.
"I almost went through with it, you know. Why you fled with your sister that night, she said you wanted nothing to do with me. I believed her, let the pain fester." He chuckled then, the sound bland and tinged with bitterness as his shoulders rolled in a shrug, the play of tendons in his neck visible as he tilted his head. "But then you came back, told me the truth... we mated, formed tsaheylu under the stars. It was perfect until I woke up like this with no recollection of why I'm bandaged."
The words hung false in the air, his mind's desperate weave to fill the voids. None of it had happened, the bond a phantom of his selective forgetfulness. Frustration boiled within you, a scream trapped behind clenched teeth, claws aching to rake through flesh, to lash out at the cruel irony.
But you schooled your features into neutrality, jaw setting firm as you met his gaze evenly. "I... see."
Undeterred by your reserve, he pulled you closer, nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as his nose traced the sensitive hollow there, inhaling deeply as if committing your essence to memory. With a gentle tug, he guided you both down onto the furs. Mindful of his injury. you positioned carefully at his side, your head resting on the unbandaged plane of his shoulder, the rise and fall of his breathing syncing with yours.
"I see you." He whispered fervently, lips brushing your temple in soft reverent kisses, each one a feather-light promise. "Since the day you held that blade to my throat, your fire called to mine."
You bit your lip, the sharp sting grounding you amid the whirlwind, teeth pressing into the tender flesh, a faint metallic tang blooming as you held your silence.
His affection enveloped you like a cocoon, warm and suffocating, lulling the day into evening's embrace.
The next morning dawned with a hush, the first rays piercing the marui's weave before Neteyam's eyes fluttered open. You stirred early, slipping from his arms with the stealth of a shadow, your movements fluid and silent, the contours of your legs uncoiling as you rose, bare feet padding softly against the cool floor.
Pausing at the threshold, you cast one last look back at him, his handsome features softened in sleep with his lashes fanning dark against his cheeks, the strong bridge of his nose casting a subtle shadow, lips parted in quiet breaths that stirred the air.
A pang twisted in your chest before you turned away, vanishing into the misty paths without a backward glance.
You wouldn't wait for Neytiri. By then, Neteyam would stir, his questions a net you couldn't afford to tangle in further. The jungle welcomed you back, vines parting like old allies as you wove toward the treeline, the weight of departure lifting with each step. Just as the clan's central paths faded behind you, a figure emerged from the underbrush.
Alayni, her posture rigid with venom, arms crossed over her chest as she blocked your way, her eyes narrowed to slits.
"Had fun playing mates with mine? Taking advantage of his amnesia like the snake you are?" She spat, her voice dripping with accusation as she stepped closer, the aggressive sway of her hips belying the fury in her clenched fists.
You grinned at her, slow and evil, letting the malice curl your lips as your head tilted "Just as much fun as he had. Clinging, kissing, whispering sweet nothings. You should thank me for keeping him occupied."
She hissed lunging nearer, her breath hot and ragged as her fangs flashed. "Why are you even here? Skulking around like you belong?"
Your snarl matched hers, a guttural warning as your tail lashing behind you, claws extending slightly as you held your ground, the poised strength in your stance unyielding. "Don't worry, I'm leaving and never coming back. You won't have to betray your people again, teaming up with my sister to raid your own clan just to dispose of me in your twisted way."
Her grin twisted maliciously, a flash of triumph in her eyes lips pulling back in a sneer, one hand gesturing dismissively. "It was worth it. Every scream, every flame because it means Neteyam will be mine."
You pouted mockingly, the expression dripping with sarcasm as you puffed your cheeks slightly, eyes rolling in exaggerated pity.
"You had your people slaughtered, homes reduced to ash, all to eliminate me and claim him? You're not just delusional, you're a traitor through and through. Soon, your clan will uncover your rot and they'll see you for the venomous wretch you are."
Disgust curled your features, a final withering glance raking over her figure, the lines of your face hardening before you spun on your heel. Without another word, you melted into the foliage, the jungle swallowing your form whole, leaving her seething in the undergrowth.
The jungle's embrace felt mocking as you pushed through the dense foliage, the vines brushing against your arms like accusatory fingers. Your clan's territory loomed ahead, the familiar spires of woven huts rising against the canopy but the air hummed with a tension that set your nerves alight.
Once, the gazes that met yours were filled with awe, reverent whispers trailing your steps as the Tsakarem, the chosen one destined to weave Eywa's will into the clan's future next to your sister. Now, those same eyes shifted uneasily, darting away or narrowing in suspicion, the subtle flinch of shoulders and the hurried averting of faces speaking volumes.
You had betrayed them, after all, by dragging that Omatikaya warrior from the flames, his blood staining your hands as surely as your mercy had branded you a turncoat. Just as Alayni had sold her own people to the shadows for a chance at Neteyam's side, so had you fractured the bonds of your kin. The weight of it settled in your gut like river stones as you stepped into the clearing.
Whispers rippled through the gathered figures. Warriors pausing mid-stride, healers glancing up from their herbs with lips pressed thin.
Dread coiled tighter when she appeared.
Varang, your sister, emerging from the central marui like a specter carved from obsidian. Her presence commanded the space, broad shoulders squared beneath the weight of adorned armor, the scars across her arms a testament to battles won. But it was her face that chilled you. Blank, devoid of the fiery rage that usually ignited her amber eyes or twisted her full mouth into a snarl. This emptiness was worse, it was eerie and calculating, a void where her vicious fury should have roared.
"Tsmuke." You murmured, voice cracking despite your effort to steady it knees bending slightly as you lowered yourself in supplication, the soft curves of your torso shifting under the thin straps of your top. "Forgive me. I... I couldn't let him die there. Eywa's willâ"
"Eywa's will? The boy had you believing that false goddess who abandoned us?" She approached, her movements deliberate, the powerful swing of her tail betraying nothing.
Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your kuru with a gentleness that belied the threat as her nails grazed the sensitive neural tendrils, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine as she caressed it like a fragile vine. The touch was almost tender for her being yet it carried the promise of something darker.
"You are a traitor to your people." She said flatly, her voice a low monotone that echoed unnaturally in the hush as her eyes locked onto yours unblinking, the sharp angles of her jaw set like carved stone. "To your own sister. I should claim your kuru for that, sever it clean, or perhaps your head to remind all of divided hearts."
Horror bloomed cold in your chest as she drew her blade, raising it with fluid precision, the metal glinting in the dappled light, her biceps flexing with restrained power as she looped the edge toward your kuru. You breathed out sharply, bracing for the pain, your muscles tensing along your spine as your heart pounded against your ribs.
But she halted, the blade hovering inches from you before she withdrew it, letting your kuru slip free from her grasp. Her expression remained a mask of indifference, shoulders rolling back as she sheathed the weapon, the beads in her hair swaying with the motion. "You are not welcome here anymore. I have no use for divided loyalties, there is no place for traitors among the Mangkwan. Leave this place and if you ever return, I will not hesitate to forget you are my blood."
The words landed like a spear to the core, your heart plummeting into the pit of your stomach as a wave of nausea churned, you rose unsteadily, legs wobbling beneath the strength of your thighs. You bit your lip hard, the sharp sting drawing a bead of blood that you tasted metallic on your tongue, and turned away without another plea. The clan's stares burned into your back as you walked, first heavy steps then a numb stride, your heart a leaden ache in your chest.
Exile.
You belonged nowhere now, a ghost adrift in Pandora's vast wilds, your cruelty once a shield now a hollow echo of your being.
Hours blurred into an endless trek, the jungle's symphony fading to a distant hum as exhaustion clawed at you. Your feet ached against the uneven terrain, the sway of your hips slowing with each mile. The sun climbed and dipped, painting the undergrowth in shifting patterns, until the rush of water drew you onward.
The river, the same crystalline vein where Neteyam had found you before, time and time again, his persistence a thorn in your side. It curved invitingly, fringed with glowing ferns but solace it offered right now was a lie.
You collapsed onto the mossy bank, knees buckling as the fight drained from you curling into yourself, silent tears carved warm paths down your cheeks. Sobs caught in your throat, muffled against your knees, the isolation crashing over you like the current's foam.
"This is what happens when you try to leave me."
The voice sliced through the quiet, low and resonant, startling you upright. Your head snapping up, braids whipping across your damp face, eyes wide with wary as you scanned the shadows.
There he was, Neteyam, stepping from the treeline in all his imposing glory, the sunlight gilding his azure form. But this was no vulnerable soft version, his face was etched with darkness, his golden eyes hooded and intense, the usual warmth replaced by a predatory gleam as his broad chest rose steadily. The faint scars on his arms standing out as he moved with purpose, his tail flicking like a whip.
"What are you doing here? How did youâ?" You stammered, scrambling back on your hands as your palms sinked into the cool mud.
He chuckled, a dark velvety sound that sent chills racing across your skin. He closed the distance with unhurried strides, his long legs eating the ground. Crouching beside you, he invaded your space effortlessly, his heat radiating like a forge. One knee pressing into the earth, forearm resting on his thigh as he leaned in, the sharp cut of his jaw tilting toward you.
"I followed you." He said simply, amusement curling his lips fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to touch you, eyes tracing the tear-streaked glow of your cheeks. "I wasn't asleep when you slipped away."
Confusion swirled with the resolve in your chest. You straightened, forcing firmness into your voice as your chin lifted defiantly, the subtle curve of your neck exposed as you met his gaze, refusing to cower. "Leave me be, Neteyam. This isn't your concern."
He tilted his head, a knowing grin spreading across his features though the shadows in his expression deepened the hollows of his cheeks. "You're mine. Why would I leave you alone? We've danced this evasion too long, it's time you accept it."
A snarl tore from your throat, raw and unrestrained. The culmination of betrayal, exile, and this relentless pursuit bubbling over. Your fangs bared, the muscles of your shoulders coiling as you lunged forward slightly, claws extending in warning. You didn't care anymore about Neytiri's pleas to play along, to shield him from stress or negativity. Your world had shattered and his delusions were the final straw.
"I'm not yours! We aren't mated, none of it was real. You're supposed to be with that woman, Alayni. You hit your head in that fall. It's selective amnesia twisting your memories, making you think we're bonded when we're enemies. Demon blood runs in you and you're tainting everything, leave me alone!"
The words spilled out in a torrent, your chest heaving with the force of them as your breath comes in sharp bursts, the soft peaks of your breasts straining against the fabric as fury flushed your skin a deeper hue.
You expected shock, denial, perhaps anger but he remained calm, face blank as a still pond, absorbing every accusation without a flicker. His arms folding loosely across his torso, the defined ridges of his abdomen shifting subtly with each even inhale.
"Are you done, baby?" He asked softly, the endearment laced with dark affection, voice dipping low, one corner of his mouth quirking as he watched you unravel.
Confusion made your lashes fluttered along with disbelief as you looked at him. "Did you not hear what I said? It's all a lie, your mind's broken!"
"I heard you loud and clear." He replied evenly, unfolding to rise slightly, towering over you even in his crouch as his shadow fall across your form. "You think I'm stupid? That I don't know the truth of it all? I know everything, baby."
Your mind reeled, questions piling like storm clouds as your pulse thundered in your ears, fingers digging into the earth for stability as you searched his face for deceit.
What game was this?
He leaned closer, grin widening with a flash of something primal in his eyes. It was dark and unyielding possession, his pupils dilating as the golden hue sharpened like a predator's stare.
"I do not have selective amnesia." He tapped the side of his head, the words dropping like stones into deep water.
"What?" The syllable escaped as a whisper, shock rooting you in place as your body goes still, the taper of your waist tensing as realization dawned.
"Do you not get it, baby?" His grin softened into something almost tender, hand reaching out to caress your face lovingly. His palm cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the high plane of your cheekbone with feather-light pressure, calluses rough against your silken skin. "It was all a ploy, (Y/N). The confusion, the clinging, the fabricated memories. I orchestrated it to keep you close without resistance from my family, the clan, or even you. I needed you unbound, willing in my arms, away from the barriers who wants to keep us apart."
Shock rippled through you, the extreme lengths he had gone to. For you. This enemy, this forbidden flame, leaving you breathless. Your eyes widening, the vibrant irises reflecting his intensity as your lips parted in stunned silence.
Insanity woven from obsession stared back at you in his gaze.
"You're insane." You breathed, shaking your head in denial trying to twist away, the sleek strands of your braids swaying as your shoulders rolled back, seeking distance from him.
He chuckled again, the sound rich and unrepentant, pulling you flush against him with effortless strength. His arms encircling your waist, his chest a solid wall of warmth pressing into your softer frame, tsking softly as you resisted. "You made me this way."
You pushed against his chest, not with full force but enough to test the boundary, your palms flattening against the firm planes of muscle there, feeling the steady thrum beneath azure skin marked by faint healing scars.
"You're still gonna be mated to Alayni." You insisted, voice edged with defiance lips pressing into a thin line, the subtle quiver of your chin betraying the storm within. "We are not truly mated. She's what your parents want, what the clan demands. This changes nothing."
Neteyam tilted his head, golden eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that bordered on reverence, but his gaze drifted inexorably downward, fixating on the full curve of your lips. His pupils darkening as he leaned fractionally closer, the sharp line of his nose nearly brushing yours, ignoring your protest like a whisper lost in the wind. He didn't flinch, didn't argue, instead a soft hum escaped him as if your words were mere ripples on the surface of his resolve.
"She won't be." He murmured finally, voice low and threaded with certainty as one of his hand sliding up your back, fingers tracing the delicate ridge of your spine through the thin weave of your top. "Once my parents and the clan know what she did, Alayni will be cast out like the poison she is."
Shock rippled through you anew, widening your eyes as you searched his face for any sign of bluff breath catching, the slope of your shoulders tensing beneath his touch.
"What do you mean?" The question tumbled out, laced with suspicion.
Did he know? Had the threads of deception of that bitch unraveled further than I realized?
A grin split his features, slow and predatory, revealing the gleam of his fangs as amusement danced in his irises, tail curling possessively around your calf.
"I heard every word from your conversation with her earlier." He confessed, the admission rolling off his tongue like a secret long savored. "How she betrayed our clan, orchestrated the attack that brought death and ruin to so many. She sold us out for her own ambitions, your escape included."
The pieces clicked into place, stealing your breath.
When you'd risen that morning, believing him lost to sleep in the cot, he hadn't been. He'd lain still, eyes cracked just enough to watch you slip away, granting you a mere twenty seconds' head start before rising silently. His instincts had guided him through the underbrush, shadows cloaking his pursuit until he caught the murmur of voices.
Yours and Alayni's, sharp with accusation.
He'd lingered at the edge, ears attuned to every damning syllable. Alayni's confession, her gloating over the attack she'd ignited, the way she'd twisted your departure not as rejection of him, but as her calculated strike to claim what she coveted. Rage had simmered in him then but so had resolve, fueling his steps as he trailed you deeper into the wilds.
From there, he'd shadowed you to the Mangkwan borders, concealed among the vines as you faced Varang's cold judgment. Witnessing your banishment, exiled for the mercy you'd shown him had ignited something primal in his chest. His heart had burst with a twisted joy, not from your suffering, but from the irrefutable proof of your bond.
You'd chosen him over blood, over everything. No longer could you deny the pull between you.
He wanted to laugh at how successful his plan had worked.
It all stemmed from that fateful night, long before the ploy took shape. He'd woken in the dim glow of the marui, the haze of injury lifting just enough to catch his parents' hushed voices. Jake's gruff concern, Neytiri's soft recounting of your heroism.
You, the Mangkwan Tsakarem, his enemy, had saved him.
For weeks, his world had been a void, convinced you'd fled because you couldn't bear his touch, his clan's shadow tainting any future with you. But hearing of your sacrifice breathed life back into him, a spark that demanded action.
Right then, amid the quiet vigil of his family, he'd devised the selective amnesia. A performance to bind you to his side without the chains of duty or suspicion snapping shut. When morning came, he'd stirred with feigned confusion, clinging to you as his âmate,â weaving tales of a bond forged in secret. His grin had widened inwardly as belief took root. Lo'ak's wary glances, Jake's reluctant nods, even Alayni's frantic interjections when she knew, it all swallowed the lie whole.
His grandmotherâs counsel had sealed it, her wise eyes warning against stress that might fracture his fragile recovery. He knew his parents would honor that, allowing you unrestricted access under the guise of healing him. No forced mating with Alayni, not while he played the vulnerable son. And his mother... she'd softened, her fierce maternal love yielding to the sight of him animated again, how she saw the hollow shell of who he was weeks past was banished by just your presence.
She wanted her son whole and you'd become the key to that illusion.
He intended to exploit every fracture, every concession. You were his obsession, the fire that consumed his thoughts, and he would claim you fully. No matter the cost, the lies, or the darkness it demanded from him.
You breathed out shakily, the weight of his machinations settling over you like a shroud, chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm, the soft swell of your form molding against his as resignation flickered in your gaze.
"So you know." You whispered, not a question but an acknowledgment, the fight ebbing from your limbs.
He nuzzled your nose then, an affectionate gesture laced with possession as his breath fanned warm across your skin, the bridge of his nose gliding gently against yours in a promise of intimacy.
"She will pay for taking you from me." He vowed, voice husky with a blend of love and unbridled obsession, eyes half-lidded, the raw edge of his tone vibrating through you.
You heard it all in his voice, the devotion twisted into something fierce and unrelenting, the madness born of longing.
He was the architect of your chaos. The raid's echoes, Alayni's schemes, Varang's blade at your kuru, all traces led back to this pull between you. Yet, against the ache of loss, attraction bloomed unbidden within, a heat coiling low in your belly. Now knowing the depths he'd plumbed, the deceptions, and the risks just to ensnare you... it stirred something reciprocal. His love was a storm, dark and consuming, but genuine in its fervor.
Darkness wasn't alien to you. As Varang's shadow, you'd wielded cruelty like a blade, reveling in its sharp clarity. Your clan, your sister, they were ghosts now, severed by your choices. What remained? Emptiness or the shelter of his embrace? He'd toppled empires of tradition for you and in his arms, you could rebuild from the ruins.
Your gaze lifted, locking onto his with a newfound resolve, lashes fluttering once as you held his stare. Slowly and deliberately, you drew him down as your lips parted to capture his in a kiss. Hesitant at first then deepening with the surrender you'd long resisted.
Surprise flashed in his eyes, a brief widening before satisfaction curved his mouth against yours. Hands tightening on your hips, pulling you flush as he responded with fervor, tongue teasing the seam of your lips in hungry invitation. He kissed you back like a man starved, pouring weeks of pent-up yearning into the press of mouths and the tangle of breaths.
His body ignited, mind flooding with visions of you.
The plush give of your breasts against his chest, the rounded allure of your hips begging for his grasp. He craved to peel away the barriers, to uncover the dusky peaks of your nipples for it to harden under his gaze, to part your thighs and breathe in the musky essence of your arousal, to lap at the slick heat until you shattered in his mouth.
The kiss ignited like dry tinder under a spark, Neteyam's mouth claiming yours with a ferocity that left no room for retreat. His tongue swept in, bold and demanding, curling around yours in a slick dance. You gasped into him, a sound he swallowed by the deepening press of his mouth. Your hands fisting the straps of his woven belt as denial flickered one last time in your chest. But his grip on your waist tightened, thumbs digging into the soft flesh above your hips, pulling you impossibly closer until your curves molded to his unyielding frame.
"Mine." He growled against your lips, voice roughened by weeks of suppressed hunger.
He sucked on your tongue then, drawing it into his mouth with a wet obscene pull. His teeth grazing the sensitive underside, his low moan vibrating through you as saliva pooled and trickled at the corners. It was filthy and possessive, his obsession laid bare in the way he devoured you as if your very essence was the antidote to his torment.
You pulled back fractionally, breath ragged, the arch of your neck exposed as you tilted your head. Strands of dark hair cascading over one shoulder, catching the river's glow in silken waves.
"Neteyam... this is madness." You whispered, voice laced with lingering resistance, lips swollen and glistening from the onslaught of his hungry mouth. "We can'tâAlayni, your clanâthey'll never acceptâ"
His laugh was low and predatory, rumbling from deep in his chest as he nuzzled the curve of your jaw. Hot breath fanning your pulse point, fangs scraping lightly in a tease of possession.
"Fuck Alayni. Fuck the clan. You're the only one I see, the only one I crave." He captured your mouth again but this time his hand roamed lower, cupping the rounded swell of your ass through the thin fabric of your loincloth, kneading the flesh firmly eliciting an involuntary arch of your back. "Look at you. Soft, perfect, made for me. I've dreamed of this body every night, wanted to touch myself to the thought of burying myself inside you. Give in to me, baby. Surrender to what we both want."
His words coiled around you like vines, a manipulative silk weaving through your doubts. You were no innocent. Cruelty had been your armor but here, stripped by his gaze, vulnerability cracked through. And the heat building between your thighs betrayed you, a slick ache that made your denial ring hollow.
"I... I shouldn't." You murmured, even as your fingers traced the ridges of his abdomen, your nails dragging lightly, feeling the taut flex of muscle.
"But you will." He coaxed, voice dropping to a husky whisper as lips brushed your ear, sending shivers racing down your spine. "Because you feel it too, this pull, this need. Let me show you how good it can be. Just say yes and I'll make you forget everything else."
His free hand slipped under your top, callused palm gliding up your ribcage to cup one breast, his thumb circling the peak through the fabric drawing a sharp inhale from you as it pebbled under his touch.
Your resistance crumbled under the weight of his desire. You nodded, a small surrender, and he wasted no time. With deft fingers, he untied your top, letting it fall away to reveal the soft perky mounds of your breasts, nipples dusky and erect in the cool air.
Neteyam's breath hitched, eyes widening with reverent hunger as he stared with pupils dilating, a low groan escaping as he traced the curve with his gaze, committing every detail to memory.
"Eywa... so beautiful." He breathed, voice thick with awe leaning down to capture one peak in his mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud while his hand kneaded the other.
Pleasure shot through you like lightning, your head falling back and throat bared, a soft whimper slipping free as your fingers threaded into his braids. He lavished attention on your chest, alternating between sucks and gentle bites leaving faint red marks that bloomed like petals on your azure skin, his obsession evident in the way he murmured praises against your flesh.
"These tits... fuck, I've wanted to taste them since the first time I saw you. So full, so responsive. Want to watch how they bounce for me."
Your body responded traitorously, hips grinding against his thigh as arousal soaked through your coverings. He sensed it, a wicked grin curving his lips as he pulled back eyes dark with intent, trailing kisses down your sternum.
"Eager already? Let me see all of you." His hands worked at your loincloth, peeling it away to expose your core as your thighs parted instinctively, the cool air kissing your heated folds.
For the first time, he beheld your pussy. It was swollen, glistening with need, the musky scent rising like an intoxicating fog.
Neteyam inhaled deeply, nose brushing the softness of your inner thigh, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss, a shudder rippling through his broad shoulders. "Oh fuck, your scent."
He buried his face closer, tongue darting out to lap at the juices trailing down your thighs, savoring the tangy essence with a filthy groan.
You cried out, legs trembling as he licked a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, the flat of his tongue pressing firm, coaxing more of your arousal to drip in his awaiting mouth. "Neteyamâah!"
The sensation was overwhelming, his mouth relentless in sucking your folds, circling the bundle of nerves with expert flicks. His fingers parting you wider, exposing every inch to his voracious hunger. Your juices leaked freely now, coating his chin as he feasted, the lewd sounds of his slurps and your moans filling the air.
"Taste so fucking good." He rasped between laps, voice muffled against your heat, one hand pinning your hip while the other teased your entrance. "Dripping for me, aren't you? This pretty little cunt leaking like it knows it's about to be claimed."
He spat then, a deliberate dollop of saliva landing on your frothing core as he watched it mix with your slick before diving back in, tongue plunging deep to gather every drop.
Ecstasy built swiftly, your walls clenching around nothing, but he pulled away just as you teetered on the edge lips shiny, eyes gleaming with dark promise. "Not yet. I want to feel you come around my cock first."
Rising to his knees, he shed his own coverings, revealing his massive length. The flared head already beading with precum standing proud against his abdomen, the sheer size making your eyes widen in a mix of awe and apprehension.
You reached out tentatively, fingers wrapping around the girth barely encircling it, feeling the velvet heat pulse under your touch.
"It's... huge." You breathed stroking experimentally, thumb swiping over the tip drawing a hiss from him.
"All for you." He panted guiding your hand, hips bucking into your fist as he watched your face. "Gonna stretch you so good, fill you up until you're ruined for anyone else."
He positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the head along your slit, coating himself in your combined wetness, teasing your swollen clit with each pass.
"WaitâNeteyam, we can't... not fully." You protested weakly, even as your body arched toward him in anticipation.
"We can and we will." He murmured manipulatively, nipping your lower lip as his eyes locked on yours with hypnotic intensity. "Just the tip first then the rest of my cock, baby. Let me in, surrender this much and I'll make it worth it."
He pressed forward slowly, the broad head breaching you and stretching your walls with a burn that bordered on pain before morphing into exquisite fullness. You moaned, nails raking down his back leaving red trails that made him growl in approval.
"Too much... oh." You gasped but your legs wrapped around his waist urging him deeper.
"That's it baby, take me." He cooed inching further, watching your face contort in pleasure, his own features twisting with restraint. Once fully sheathed, he paused letting you adjust to the bulge forming low in your belly, his hand pressing against it feeling himself inside you. "Look at that, my cock making a home in your tummy. You're made for breeding, aren't you?"
You mewled at his words and he began to move then, slow thrusts that built to a punishing rhythm with his hips snapping in lewd slaps, the riverbank echoing the sound. Love bites peppered your neck and shoulders, his teeth sinking in just enough to mark, scratches from your nails mirroring on his skin, a canvas of mutual claim.
"Fuck, you feel so good. Gripping me like you never want to let go." His words were shameless as raw sweat beading on his temple.
Pleasure mounted coiling tight until you shattered as your walls convulsed around him, a cry tearing from your throat and body arching off the ground, stars bursting behind your eyelids.
He didn't stop, chasing his own release with frantic drives. "Coming inside you. Gonna flood this pussy, make it mine."
He spilled, hot ropes of cum painting your depths, sloshing audibly with his final thrusts, the excess leaking out around his base obscenely.
But one round wasn't enough.
He flipped you onto your hands and knees, re-entering with a single brutal stroke, hand fisting your hair gently, arching your back as he pounded deeper.
"Again. Need to feel you milk me dry." He demanded, spitting into your open mouth this time, watching you swallow with a filthy grin.
The second climax hit you harder, mind fogging as he filled you anew, your tummy bulging visibly now, a lewd testament to his claim. By the third round, you were fucked dumb. Limbs heavy, moans incoherent with eyes glazed, body limp as he rutted into you from behind, one hand rubbing delicious circles on your clit.
"So good for me. Dumb on my cock, just how I like you." He praised, nipping your ear, his free hand roaming to squeeze your breast and pinched your nipple.
In your haze, he moved with purpose. Gathering your kuru, he connected it swiftly with his own. Tsaheylu forming in a surge of connection that bound your souls, the bond electric, amplifying every sensation as he thrust through your overstimulation. You felt the gravity of his love and obsession with you. How he wanted to etch himself into your being until heâs all youâll ever know. How he was ready to defy everyone and leave his clan just to be with you. How he wanted to fill your pussy over and over again until you give him a big family. He burns for you and he will burn for you if he must.
You whimpered realizing too late but the pleasure drowned the protests bubbling up in you.
"Now it's real." He whispered triumphantly, voice laced with obsession and his eyes wild as the bond deepened. "Mated for life, no escaping me anymore. I'll take you home and no one can touch what's mine."
"Neteyam, what have youâ" You slurred but he silenced you with a deep kiss, tongues tangling as he drove toward another peak.
"I'll make you a mama." He vowed between thrusts, manipulative edge sharpening his tone as his hand splayed over your lower belly pressing the bulge. "Keep getting you pregnant every damn time. Swelling with my seed so everyone knows who you belong to. Your sister, Alayni, the whole damn clan, they'll see you're mine forever. You just have to give in fully baby, surrender yourself to me."
The words, the bond, the relentless pleasure, it broke you.
Or perhaps remade you.
As he came again, cum sloshing deep and overflowing in thick rivulets down your thighs, you clung to him, your denial shattered. You were mated truly now and escape was a faded dream. In his arms, you found a twisted peace. His darkness mirroring your own, binding you to him.
Your body trembled in the aftermath, every nerve alight with the echoes of ecstasy and the profound weight of the bond now thrumming between you. Neteyam's cock remained buried deep in your walls, a deliberate barrier sealing his cum within your tender overworked folds. The raw heat of your core clenching sporadically around him, holding back the warm flood that threatened to spill. A soft whimper escaped your lips as overstimulation lingered like a sweet ache.
"Shh, baby." He murmured soothingly, his voice a low rumble against your ear as one large hand stroking the sweat-damp curve of your spine. "You did so good. So perfect for me."
His tone wrapped around you like a cocoon, possessive yet tender, the darkness in his eyes softened by satiated affection for you.
Your vision swam in a haze of bliss, eyelids heavy as you gazed up at him with your lashes fluttering, the lines of your face flushed with exertion, a faint sheen of perspiration highlighting the subtle glow of your skin.
"Neteyamâ" You breathed, the word half-protest, half-plea, your voice husky from cries long silenced by his kisses.
He grinned then, a slow, predatory curve of his lips as he drank in the sight of you.
Naked and utterly claimed, scattered love bites blooming like violet bruises along your collarbone and the swell of your breasts, faint red welts from his nails marking your hips where he'd gripped too fiercely in the throes. Your beauty struck him anew, wild and unmarred by the world's judgments, every curve and stripes a testament to the obsession that had driven him to this.
Leaning down, he captured one dusky nipple between his lips again, suckling with gentle insistence as his tongue flicked the sensitive tip drawing a fresh gasp from you as sparks reignited low in your belly. He released it with a soft pop, only to claim your mouth in a lingering kiss. Lips molding to yours, the taste of shared passion still lingering on his tongue, his breath warm and ragged against your skin.
Without withdrawing, he shifted, strong arms banding around your waist to pull you upright with him. His cock still lodged deliciously inside, shifted angles that sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through you, your walls fluttering in response. You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into the firm muscle there, the stripes on his arms pulsing faintly in the dim light, a mirror to the bond's electric hum.
He stepped into the shallow river, the cool water lapping at your joined forms as he waded deeper. Cradling you against his chest, the current swirling around your thighs and teasing the sensitive juncture where you remained connected. Droplets clung to his broad shoulders, tracing rivulets down the defined planes of his torso as he began to wash you both. His free hand dipping into the stream to cup water over your marked skin, gentle swipes cleansing the evidence of your frenzy, though his eyes never left yours, still dark with lingering hunger.
All the while, he stole nasty smooches from your lips. Quick heated presses that deepened into tongue-tangling explorations as his fangs grazed your lower lip, a low hum of approval vibrating from his throat each time you yielded to his advances.
"My mate is so fucking pretty." He growled between kisses, voice thick with raw adoration as his gaze raked over you, from the tousled waves framing your face to the subtle sway of your hips in the water. "All full of my cum and marked. Look at you baby, mine in every way now."
You felt him stirring within you, thickening once more as arousal rebuilt. The lazy twitch of his hips pressing him deeper, sloshing the trapped seed inside you with obscene wet sounds that made your cheeks burn. A groan built in your throat, the sensation both soothing and igniting, your body betraying any semblance of fatigue.
"Do you not get tired?" You groaned, the words tumbling out as he mouthed at your nipple again, his teeth nipping the pebbled flesh, his hot breath fanning across your chest while the water buoyed your weight.
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending vibrations straight to your core as he lifted his head to meet your eyes, his own gleaming with unquenchable fire. "I'd fuck your pussy every day and still complain it's not enough."
The shameless declaration hung in the air, filthy and fervent, his hand sliding down to cup your ass, urging a subtle grind.
Your cunt pulsed at his words, a fresh wave of slick easing the way as desire coiled anew. Your inner muscles squeezing his cock involuntarily drawing a hiss from his parted lips. He responded in kind, fucking up into you with languid thrusts. Each roll of his hips deliberate, the friction building as your clit ground against the coarse texture at his pelvis, sparks blooming in your pussy with every press.
"You're so beautiful, baby." He whispered reverently, voice laced with awe, his free hand cradling the nape of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw as he held your gaze.
The water splashed softly around you, a rhythmic counterpoint to the deepening cadence of his movements.
Capturing your mouth once more, he parted your lips with his tongue, only to pull back slightly. Spitting a deliberate saliva into your open mouth, watching with hooded eyes as you swallowed, the act intimate and depraved. Then he dove in, sucking on your tongue with voracious pulls. Teeth grazing, saliva mingling in a messy heated exchange that left you breathless.
The pace quickened, his thrusts growing firmer despite the lazy intent. Your bodies rocking in the current, the bond amplifying every sensation until pleasure crested like a wave. You came first, a muffled cry against his lips as your walls clamped down. Stars fracturing your vision, limbs tightening around him in shuddering release. He followed moments later, spilling anew with a guttural moan. Hot pulses joining the existing warmth, the fullness overwhelming as it sloshed within you.
This time, he withdrew gently, the sudden emptiness making you whine softly. A trickle of his cum escaping to mingle with the river's flow. He cleaned you up for real then, thorough and attentive, rinsing away the remnants with cupped handfuls of water. Fingers careful over your sensitive skin, tracing the insides of your thighs before helping you into fresh coverings from his nearby pouch. He dressed himself swiftly, the woven fabric hugging his powerful frame, his kuru draped over one shoulder still tingling from the bond with you.
Scooping you into his arms, he cradled you bridal-style against his chest. Your head nestling into the crook of his neck, the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulling you. You snuggled closer instinctively, limbs heavy with exhaustion, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours like a balm.
He grinned down at you, that obsessive light in his eyes undimmed as his fangs peeked through before he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"Go to sleep, baby." He coaxed softly, voice a gentle command as one hand rubbed soothing circles on your back while he began the trek back towards his clan. "When you wake up, we'll be back in our marui as mates. Nobody can set us apart now."
Your eyes fluttered closed, the fight drained from you entirely. A quiet warmth blooming in your chest at the depth of his love, twisted as it was, mirroring the shadows in your own heart.
"You're still a disgusting demon to me." You mumbled, the words laced with weary affection rather than true venom you used to hurl at him.
He chuckled, the sound rich and fond echoing softly in the night, adjusting his hold to keep you secure as your breathing evened out. "And you're still beautiful to me."
As sleep claimed you fully, the world faded to the rhythm of his steps, the bond a unbreakable tether pulling you into his darkness.
His smile turned into a dark smirk as he continued to walk with you in his arms. He wasn't done yet. His plan still yet to unfold. He wasn't gonna rest until he's sure nobody will be an obstacle and he sure knows who to start with first.
Alayni will be an example of how far I'm willing to go for you, baby.
He laughed to himself as he realized, he really was obsessed with you.
pairings: aged up neteyam x mangkwan female reader
notes: obsessed neteyam, gradual dark neteyam, reader is varangâs mean younger sister, manipulation, angst/comfort, miscommunication trope, forbidden lovers, neteyam is a literal yearner, reader is realistic, love at first sight for neteyam, selective amnesia, reader is disgusted by neteyamâs demon blood, betrayal, smut & suggestive themes, p in v sex, themes of noncon & dubcon, breeding, spitting, tummy bulge, big dick neteyam.
word count: 34.5k (i literally have no brain juice anymore)
prompt: from the moment you had your blade pressed against his neck, all he could think of was how beautiful you are. he does not care if youâre a mangkwan and he does not care if you are disgusted by him, you are what he wants even if he has to go to extreme lengths to get you.
The dense canopy of Pandora's forest filtered the midday sun into dappled shafts of light casting shifting patterns on the undergrowth as Neteyam soared above on his ikran. His form honed by years of vigilant scouting, blended seamlessly with the creature's sleek blue hide, his golden eyes scanning the perimeters of Omatikaya territory with unwavering focus. The wind whipped through his braided hair carrying the earthy scent of moss and distant rain but today, an unfamiliar tension hummed in the air like Eywa herself was holding her breath.
A flicker of movement below caught his sharp gaze. A cluster of Na'vi figures darting through the underbrush, their movements predatory and coordinated. He signaled his ikran with a subtle shift of his thighs and the beast banked sharply, descending in a controlled spiral toward a concealed ledge. Wings folded with a soft rustle as he dismounted, his bare feet silent on the mossy ground. Crouching behind a thick fern and bow already in hand, Neteyam peered through the leaves, his heart steady but alert.
What he witnessed chilled him.
A raiding party from the Mangkwan clan of fierce warriors painted in ritualistic ash, their bodies smeared with the dark residue of volcanic soil that marked their savage tradition. They had ambushed a small group of Olangi travelers. The Olangi clan, a peaceful foragers from a neighboring grove, were outnumbered and overwhelmed, their pleas echoing faintly through the trees. The Mangkwans moved with brutal efficiency, spears glinting as they subdued their prey but it was the figure at the center that seized Neteyam's breath.
You.
Leading the raid with an air of unchallenged authority, your form cut an intoxicating silhouette against the chaos. Ash coated your skin like a second hide, obscuring the true hue beneath in swirling patterns that accentuated the sharp angles of your jaw. Even veiled in grime, your beauty pierced through with full lips curved in a predatory smile and eyes like smoldering embers, scanning the fray with calculated glee. Your body was clad in minimal hides, a beaded top that strained against the soft perky swell of your breasts, rising and falling with each commanding breath, and a loincloth that hugged the firm curve of your hips revealing toned legs braced for action.
Neteyam found himself entranced, curiosity gnawing at him. What lay under that ash? Smooth azure skin perhaps, glowing with the vitality of your clan or something rarer, more alluring?
But beauty masked cruelty.
He watched as you circled a kneeling Olangi male, his kuru held taut by one of your warriors.
The victim's pleas tumbled out in desperate sobs. "Please we mean no harm. Eywa, mercy!"
Your laughter rang out, mean and cutting, a sharp trill that sliced through the air like a blade. "Your goddess has no dominion here."
It wasn't joyous, it was mocking and laced with sadistic delight as you raised your obsidian knife, the edge catching the light. The Mangkwans deferred to you utterly, their eyes on you as if you were their spiritual guide yet Neteyam knew you werenât the clanâs leader.
During a prior scouting run with his father, Jake had pointed out Varang, the true TsahĂŹk of the Mangkwans. Tall and imposing with an aura of unyielding command. That wasn't you. So who were you? Varang's kin perhaps her younger sister, wielding influence through blood ties? Or a favored enforcer, a prized weapon in her arsenal? The mystery only deepened his fixation, his gaze lingering on the way your ash-streaked arms flexed, muscles coiling like vines ready to strike.
The Olangi's kuru dangled vulnerably, the warrior presenting it for your ritual severing. A fate worse than death was severing one's bond with Eywa. Neteyam's jaw tightened with a surge of protectiveness igniting in his chest and he couldn't stand by. Nocking an arrow with fluid precision, he drew back the bowstring with the familiar creak grounding him. His aim was true, released with a whisper, the shaft flew straight and embedding in the hand of the Mangkwan holding the kuru. The warrior yelped dropping the kuru as blood welled while the Olangi collapsed in shock.
You hissed sharply in a venomous sound that reverberated through the trees, your head snapping toward the underbrush where the arrow had originated. Your ember eyes narrowed, piercing the foliage as if you could will the shadows to part. Though the leaves concealed him, your stare felt like it locked onto his golden ones, a challenge unspoken.
Neteyam held his breath, pulse thundering in his ears.
"How amusing." You chuckled lowly, the sound dripping with dark amusement with the thrill of the hunt sparking in your veins, your lips twisting into a smirk that revealed sharp canines.
Shifting your attention, you glanced at the injured warrior clutching his hand with pain etching his features.
"Tend to that." You dismissed him with a wave of your hand, voice cool and authoritative boredom masking your intrigue.
No time for weakness in my ranks.
Grinning to yourself with a secretive curve of your mouth that hinted at games yet to play, you barked orders to your group. "Retreat! Take what we came for."
The Mangkwans obeyed instantly, their weaponâs clubs thudding against Olangi skulls to knock them unconscious. Greedy hands snatching woven satchels of herbs, glowing crystals, and carved totems as prizes of the raid. They melted into the forest like smoke but you lingered a moment, casting one final lingering look toward Neteyam's hiding spot. Your smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with promise of a predator sensing prey nearby before you turned, your form vanishing into the green.
Neteyam exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a heartbeat as his muscles uncoiled with relief washing over him. Slumping against the fern, he berated his caution for being too close and too reckless. The raid's echoes faded leaving only the rustle of leaves.
Then cold steel kissed his throat.
His golden eyes flew open, meeting yours up close. Sadistic glee swirling in their depths like storm clouds over the sea. You had circled silently, a shadow among shadows, your blade now pressed under his chin, tilting his head back against the earth. The ash on your face cracked slightly with your predatory smile, revealing glimpses of smoother skin beneath that was flushed with exertion.
The bow and arrows lay discarded beside him, the telltale fletching matching the one that embedded in your warrior's hand.
"Nice shot, forest boy." You purred, voice laced with mocking admiration and excitement bubbling beneath the snarl, your breath warm against his skin. "Had a good time interrupting my fun?"
He didn't answer, lips pressed into a thin line, inwardly cursing his lapse. How had you slipped past? His body tensed beneath you but he held still and assessing.
You tsked, a sharp disappointed sound, your snarl twisting your features as you surged forward. With effortless strength, you pinned him to the ground. Your knee digging into his abdomen, the blade you held angling deeper. Its tip pricking his flesh just enough to draw a thin bead of blood. The metallic tang mingled with the forest's humidity, your weight settling over him dominantly, your thighs clamping his waist in a vise of muscle and heat.
From this vantage, you were breathtaking.
The ash smeared across your cheeks like war paint but the proximity unveiled nuances. The delicate slope of your nose, the way your braids framed your face and swaying with each controlled breath. Your body pressed against his firm one, soft perky breasts heaving through the scant hide while your thighs hugged him possessively, the firm ridges of your muscle flexing. The loincloth you wore rode up slightly in the struggle, teasing the shadowed juncture between your legs in a forbidden glimpse that stirred something primal in him.
Neteyam's gaze betrayed him, trailing downward despite the danger. Over the generous curve of your breasts, your nipples faintly outlined against the fabric from the adrenaline rush then to the powerful expanse of your thighs gripping him like you owned him already.
You hissed again, low and threatening as irritation flared hot in your being, the sound vibrating through your chest as you caught his wandering eyes. Leaning in closer with your blade steady, your face hovered inches from his. "I'll cut your throat for that."
He stared up at you dazed, the world narrowing to the beauty before him. The cruel spark in your eyes, the subtle sheen of sweat tracing a path down your neck.
Words escaped him before he could cage them, his voice rough with unintended awe. "You're beautiful."
Your eyes widened fractionally, the sadistic gleam flickering with surprise as an unwelcome heat coiled low despite yourself but you didn't falter. The blade nicked deeper against his skin, a warning as you ground your hips down experimentally, testing his resolve.
"Flattery won't save you, skxawng." You snarled though your voice held a husky edge, your curiosity warring with the cruelty you held.
The pressure of your body against his sent unwelcome sparks through both of you. His cock twitching involuntarily beneath the confines of his own coverings, your breath hitching as you felt it.
Neteyam's hands, bound by instinct not to fight yet, flexed at his sides, his golden eyes locked on yours now and unflinching. The forest seemed to hold its breath around you, the distant calls of ikran fading into irrelevance. He could smell the ash on you mingled with the wild scent of your skin, it was earthy and intoxicating.
"Why do they follow you like that?" He asked, voice steady despite the blade, deflecting while his mind raced.
Attraction bloomed dark and insistent in him, a shadow creeping over his usual honor. You weren't just beautiful, you were a storm and he found himself drawn to the eye.
You laughed then in a mean throaty sound that vibrated against him, amusement laced with dark promise shrouding it as you tilted your head to study him like prey. "Maybe you're not as foolish as you look."
Your free hand trailed down his chest, nails scraping lightly over his toned abdomen feeling the ridges of his muscle tense. The touch was teasing and cruel, testing boundaries that doesnât seem to exist anymore. Your breasts brushed his chest with the movement softly and enticingly, the ash transferring in faint streaks to his skin.
He swallowed hard, your blade's edge a razor reminder but his body betrayed him as his hips shifted subtly upward seeking more friction from you.
"Let me go." He murmured, though it lacked conviction as desire thread through the plea. His eyes darkening as they traced the curve of your hip and the way your loincloth shifted hinting at the heat of your cunt beneath.
"And miss this?" You countered, voice dripping with sadistic playfulness as the thrill of power surged, pressing the blade just enough to draw another drop of blood from him.
But your eyes, those ember depths, held his. A challenge, an invitation to the darkness you both sensed brewing. The raid's adrenaline still pumped through your veins, mingling with this unexpected tension, your thighs tightening around him as if to claim victory.
Neteyam's breath came ragged now, the softness of your form contrasting the hardness of your intent, igniting a fire he hadn't anticipated. In that moment amidst the ash and threat, the future Olo'eyktan's resolve cracked with a darker hunger awakening for the woman who could lead with cruelty and beauty in equal measure. The forest watched as a silent witness to the spark that could and would inevitably consume you both.
"Who are you?" He repeated, his voice a low rumble with frustration edged in fascination, refusing to yield even as the steel bit into his skin. "Why do they follow you?"
You tilted your head slowly, braids swaying like dark serpents against your ash-smeared shoulders, your expression an enigma. Your eyes were narrowed to slits, unreadable as the depths of a hidden cenote. The motion caused your torso to shift, the beaded strands of your top grazing his chest once again with a whisper of friction, your soft curves molding briefly against the hard planes of his warrior's build.
After a deliberate pause, you leaned in closer, lips parting to reveal the edge of your teeth.
"I am Varang's younger sister." You murmured, voice smooth as polished obsidian and a hint of pride sharpening the words. "Her Tsakarem."
The revelation hung between you like a taut bowstring as Neteyam's mind raced.
Tsakarem, the heir apparent, groomed to ascend if fate claimed Varang. High standing indeed, woven into the spiritual fabric of the Mangkwan with threads of power and ritual. Your authority made sense now, the way your warriors had deferred, their eyes alight with reverence. But it also sparked unwelcome questions in him. Were you already mated? Bound in tsaheylu to some brutal consort, your being entwined with another?
A surge of fury clawed at his chest but he shoved it down, his jaw clenching as he focused on the way your thighs still gripped his sides, their toned length flexing with subtle control. Your eyes flicked to his face catching the flicker of turmoil and you pressed the knife deeper, the edge singing against his flesh as the thrill of dominance coursed through you.
"What clan are you from?" You demanded, your breath ghosting over his cheek, warm and laced with the metallic tang of anticipation.
"Omatikaya." He answered, voice steady despite the sting, his gaze never leaving yours, golden depths locking with ember ones.
You threw your head back and laughed, the sound rich and mocking as it echoed through the undergrowth.
"Oh, the clan of that tawtute turned Na'vi?" You sneered lowering your face again, your lips curling in contempt. "The clan of Toruk Makto?"
"He's my father." Neteyam replied with a quiet defiance threading his tone, his pride warring with the vulnerability of your proximity as his hands twitching at his sides resisting the urge to reach up and trace the curve of your jaw.
Your grin widened, sharp and predatory, teeth flashing as you savored the revelation, a spark of malicious delight igniting. The expression transformed your features, your cheekbones sharpening and your full lips stretching over a sadistic curve making you appear even more alluring in your cruelty.
"Ah, so you're a filthy sky demon then." You hissed, voice dripping with revulsion, loathing twisting like a vine in your gut at his unpure lineage. "How disgusting."
His heart clenched painfully at the look in your eyes.
Pure unfiltered disgust as if he were tainted by his human heritage, as if heâs unworthy of the ground you straddled. It stung deeper than the blade, a rejection that fueled the shadows creeping into his soul. Yet even as pain lanced through him, he couldn't tear his gaze from the line of your neck and the way sweat beaded along your throat tracing a path down to the valley between your heaving chest.
"What is your name?" You pressed, the knife steady while your free hand now rested on his shoulder, nails digging in just enough to anchor him as curiosity sharpened your focus amid the hate.
"Neteyam." He said simply, the word escaping like a confession, resignation mingling with an undercurrent of longing.
You laughed again, meaner this time with a throaty bark that vibrated through your core.
"Neteyam, the filthy sky demon." You mocked, rolling the name on your tongue like a curse. "My sister would be pleased that I bring the kuru of Toruk Makto's son before her."
Your eyes gleamed with dark promise, imagining the trophy of his kuru severed as a symbol of Mangkwan supremacy dangling in your marui.
Panic flickered in Neteyam's chest but it warred with an unwillingness to harm you. If he fought back now, twisting free and overpowering you, his hands might mar that flawless skin and leave bruises on your arms or that captivating face. Eywa he wished for a disturbance, anything to shatter this moment without violence for you. As if the Great Mother heard his silent plea, the air stirred with the powerful beat of wings slicing through the canopy followed by urgent voices calling his name echoing from above.
"Neteyam! Where are you?" Lo'ak's shout cut through the trees laced with worry while Jake's deeper timbre joined in, commanding and steady.
Relief nearly escaped him in a breath but he held it as he watched your reaction.
You heard it too. The approaching ikran and the unmistakable cadence of Omatikaya warriors. A snarl ripped from your throat, low and feral as frustration boiled over like lava, your beautiful features twisting into a mask of fury.
"Interrupt me again next time." You growled, leaning down until your lips nearly brushed his ear, voice a venomous whisper with rage simmering beneath the threat. "And I'll have your kuru hanging from my marui."
With a fluid motion, you dismounted him, your thighs releasing their grip leaving a ghost of warmth where they'd clamped. Your body uncoiled, ash flaking from your limbs as you rose, your knife still clutched in your fist. You shot him one last glare, hateful and disgusted, eyes raking over him as if committing his form to memory for future vengeance. Then without another word you melted into the foliage, your form vanishing into the green shadows with the silent prowess of a seasoned hunter.
Neteyam lay there for a moment staring at the canopy above, the imprint of your weight lingering on his hips like a brand. He missed it already, the press of your curves and the dangerous allure of your scent. A low groan escaped him as he shifted, his arousal evident in the insistent throb beneath his loincloth, a betrayal of his body's response to your dominance.
Shaking his head to clear the haze, he sat up slowly, snatching his bow and arrows to drape across his lap to conceal the evidence of his desire.
"Bro, are you okay?" Lo'ak's voice broke the silence first, crashing through the underbrush with his usual reckless energy.
He skidded to a halt beside Neteyam, his tail flicking in concern while Jake approached more methodically. His gaze sweeping over the unconscious Olangi people sprawled nearby, their forms battered and kurus mercifully intact.
"Yeah." Neteyam replied curtly, forcing composure into his tone as he adjusted his position before rising to his feet with deliberate slowness.
Jake turned to them, his broad frame casting a long shadow, eyes sharp with paternal scrutiny.
"What happened here?" He asked, voice gravelly and worry etching lines around his eyes.
"Mangkwans raided the Olangi." Neteyam explained slinging his bow over his shoulder, the wood cool against his heated skin. "They were about to cut off their kurus. I intervened from the brush, shot an arrow to stop it."
He kept the details sparse, omitting the blade at his throat and the intoxicating weight of you atop him.
Jake tensed visibly, muscles coiling under his blue skin like a predator sensing threat. "Who was leading the raid? Varang?"
Neteyam's mind flashed to your face, those ember eyes and the cruel tilt of your lips, the ash-veiled beauty that haunted him already.
"No." He said, voice even even with the shadow of obsession stirring. "It's her sister. The Tsakarem."
Jake and Lo'ak whipped their heads toward him in unison, surprise widening their expressions.
"You saw her?" Lo'ak blurted, brows shooting up with intrigue sparking in his mischievous gaze.
Neteyam nodded once, curt and evasive.
He'd done far more than see you. He felt you, he breathed you but those truths stayed buried, coiling dark in his chest like a secret vow.
"Let's move." Jake commanded, already kneeling to check on the nearest Olangi, his hands gentle as he assessed wounds. "We need to help them. Bring them back to Omatikaya."
Neteyam inclined his head in agreement but as they gathered the dazed travelers by supporting limp arms and murmuring reassurances, his gaze drifted to the spot where you'd vanished. The undergrowth seemed to whisper your being, a siren call pulling at the edges of his honor. The future Olo'eyktan felt the first true fracture in his resolve, a darkness blooming not from duty but from the cruel beauty who'd marked him without a touch.
As ikran cries heralded their departure, he mounted his own bond-beast last, the wind carrying him homeward yet his thoughts lingered in the ash-scented wilds and chasing the ghost of your snarl.
Meanwhile, you sprinted through the tangled roots and bioluminescent vines, heart pounding with a mix of fury and something sharper, more unsettling. The forest blurred around you, the towering trees with bark etched like ancient scars turned into the familiar scorched ones but your mind replayed the encounter.
Those golden eyes staring up at you unafraid, calling you beautiful amid the threat. Disgusting sky demon, you reminded yourself, snarling under your breath as revulsion clashed with an unwelcome curiosity for the Omatikaya warrior.
Your legs pumped with relentless energy, thighs burning from the raid and the brief wrestle, the loincloth chafing against your sweat-slicked skin. Ash flaked from your arms as you vaulted a fallen log and landing with cat-like poise, your breaths coming in sharp bursts that made your chest ache.
Why had I let him live?
The question gnawed at you even as your marui came into view. Woven from volcanic fibers, perched on stilts over a steaming pool. Warriors milled about who were tending stolen goods such as the shimmering crystals piled in nets and the herbs bundled for Varang's rituals. You slowed, straightening your top where beads had shifted, exposing a sliver of your midriff, the soft undercurve of your breasts rising with each calming inhale.
Your sister's voice called from within, authoritative and probing but you waved it off, slipping inside to wash the encounter away.
Water from a nearby basin splashed over your face, rinsing rivulets of ash to reveal the true azure of your skin which was freckled with faint glowing spots that danced like stars under the dim light. You stared at your reflection in the rippling surface, cheekbones flushed from exertion, lips still curved in residual disdain, and eyes smoldering with unresolved fire.
Neteyam.
The name echoed, stirring a heat you crushed down. He was the enemy, a filthy intruder on your domain. Yet as you traced a finger along the scar on your palm from past battles, you couldn't shake the memory of his body beneath yours thatâs stirring instincts you hadn't anticipated.
Varang entered then, her taller frame filling the entrance as her eyes narrowed at your disheveled state.
"Little tsmuke, the raidâsuccess?" She asked, voice like grinding stone with concern veiled in command.
You met her gaze as you forced a smirk. "More than. We took what we needed."
Omitting the details, the blade, the almost-kill.
She nodded satisfied but you turned away, mind already plotting the next border push. Deep down though, a thread of anticipation wove through your thoughts.
Would those golden eyes seek you again?
The Tsakarem of Mangkwan didn't yield to weakness but this sky demon had cracked something open in you, a fissure where darkness and desire might mingle unchecked.
The air in the Tsahik's marui hung heavy with the scent of healing herbs, bitter yarrow and soothing aloe mingling in the steam rising from clay bowls.
Neteyam sat rigidly on a woven mat, his broad shoulders tense beneath the dim glow of suspended lanterns that cast flickering shadows across the curved walls of pandora vines. The shallow nick on his neck throbbed faintly, a reminder of your blade's kiss yet it was nothing compared to the deeper ache gnawing at his core.
His grandmother Mo'at, the revered Tsahik, was occupied elsewhere in the communal space, her hands deftly tending to the battered Olangi refugees who huddled in clusters, their faces dimmed by exhaustion and pain. Murmurs of gratitude and soft chants filled the air as she moved among them as a pillar of calm authority.
Instead, it was Alayni who attended to him, the young healer-in-training whose gentle presence had long been a fixture in his life.
She knelt before him, her slender fingers working with practiced care as she dabbed a cool poultice onto his wound. Alayni was pretty in a soft unassuming way, her eyes a warm amber that often darted shyly from beneath long lashes. Her braids were neatly bound with feathers, signifying her devotion to the healing arts and her movements were fluid and almost reverent as she applied the salve.
She had always been kind to him.
Slipping morsels of fresh fruit into his training satchel when he pushed himself too hard under the midday sun or lingering after lessons to ask about his day with a blush coloring her cheeks. His parents adored her, Neytiri saw in her the quiet strength of a future Tsahik while Jake appreciated her steadiness, a counterbalance to the chaos of their family. She was one of the potential mates they urged him to consider, especially now with his ascension to becoming Olo'eyktan looming in just a year.
Neteyam had entertained the idea once.
Alayni would make a good mate. She was loyal and nurturing, her shyness a balm to his burdens. She had expressed her interest subtly but persistently. A lingering touch during healings and invitations to walk the glowing paths at dusk, her voice soft with hope trembling in every syllable as she suggested they share a meal by the river. He had even agreed a few times out of duty, their conversations polite but devoid of the spark that now eluded him entirely.
But that was before you. Before the raid, before your ash-streaked form had pinned him down, your eyes burning with contempt that only fueled the fire in his blood.
Alayni was pretty, yes, but she paled against the vision of you. Your fierce beauty a storm to her gentle breeze, your cruelty a magnet to his unraveling restraint. He wanted you with a ferocity that bordered on madness, even after mere moments in your presence. He craved you despite the disgust twisting your lips when you spat "filthy sky demon," he craved you despite the enmity of your clans carving chasms between you. You were the enemy, a Mangkwan Tsakarem destined to lead raids that spilled Omatikaya blood, yet the thought of your thighs straddling him and your blade at his throat consumed him like a fever.
It was absurd, this pull. A betrayal of everything he stood for as the future leader but he couldn't deny it. His heart raced at the memory of your scent and his body stirred unbidden with a low heat pooling in his core.
As Alayni's fingers brushed the edge of the wound, her touch feather-light and caring, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Her amber eyes searched his golden ones, wide with unspoken affection and a flicker of longing softening her features. But Neteyam kept his stare fixed on the far wall where woven tapestries depicted Eywa's embrace, his jaw set in quiet detachment.
His mind wandered relentlessly to you.
The curve of your hips as you dismounted, the snarl that bared your teeth, and the way your laughter had vibrated through him like a challenge. How could he see you again? Touch you? The forest was vast and the borders were tense but he would find a way. He would scout the edges, risk the shadows, anything to glimpse that fire once more.
"There." Alayni murmured finally, tying off a thin strip of leaf bandage with delicate precision as satisfaction warmed her voice. Her hand lingered, sliding down to caress his arm in a gesture of concern, her palm warm against the corded muscle of his bicep. "Are you alright, Neteyam? That cut... it could have been worse."
Her fingers traced a subtle path, innocent yet hopeful, her breath catching slightly as she awaited his response. In her mind, visions danced. In a year when Jake stepped down, she could be at his side, as Tsahik to his Olo'eyktan, their kurus entwining in tsaheylu under the Tree of Souls. The thought made her pulse quicken with a giddy flutter in her chest.
Neteyam nodded curtly, his voice flat and dismissive with impatience edging his tone as he rose to his feet making the mat rustle beneath him. "I'm fine. Thank you, Alayni."
He didn't meet her eyes, already turning toward the entrance, the weight of his bow slung across his back as a familiar anchor.
"Neteyam." She called out softly standing as well, her form silhouetted against the herbal steam, disappointment tinged with persistence. "Do you want to take a walk later? The glowworms by the falls are blooming. I thought... we could talk."
Her hands clasped together twisting nervously, the beads on her wrists clinking like a plea.
He paused at the flap of the marui, the humid air of the village filtering in and carrying the distant calls of ikran. His mother would beam if he accepted, she would see it as progress toward the merging they craved. But today the will eluded him, drowned out by the echo of your mocking laugh.
"I have something to do." He replied over his shoulder, the words clipped with feign regret buried under his resolve.
"Oh." She echoed faintly, the syllable hanging like a wilted petal, a quiet hurt settling in her posture as she watched him go.
Neteyam stepped into the bustling heart of the Omatikaya village, the high trees weaving a cathedral of leaves overhead yet his thoughts plotted a solitary path. He would scout the borders at dawn and venture closer to Mangkwan lands than wisdom allowed. Risk be damned, he needed to see you again, to unravel the enigma that had ensnared him.
The next day dawned with a veil of mist clinging to the forest floor, the air crisp and alive with the symphony of awakening life.
Neteyam mounted his ikran early, the creature's leathery wings cutting through the canopy as they soared toward the contested fringes. His heart thudded with anticipation, his golden eyes scanning the terrain below from the rivers snaking like veins to the clusters of ferns hiding potential threats.
Hours passed in fruitless search. There were no raiding parties and no ash-painted warriors, only the indifferent pulse of Eywa's domain. Disappointment settled heavy in his chest in a dull ache as he urged his ikran toward home, the wind whipping his braids like accusations of folly.
Just as resignation crept in, a flash of color caught his eye. A solitary figure by the river's bend, nestled in a sun-dappled clearing. His breath hitched, deep in his gut he knew it was you.
With a sharp command, he guided the ikran into a steep dive, landing silently in a thicket nearby as the beast's talons sank into moss without a sound. Dismounting swiftly, Neteyam crept forward, his warrior's grace muting his steps as excitement pounded in his veins like war drums. The underbrush parted under his careful hands, leaves whispering secrets as he approached with his heart racing in a mix of thrill and trepidation.
There you were, reclining on a bed of soft moss beside the lazily flowing river with the water's gentle murmur as a lullaby. Clearly sleep had claimed you with your body lax in repose, unguarded in a way that stole the air from his lungs.
For the first time, your face was bare, no war paint or ash to veil your features, washed clean by the river's touch. Your true azure skin gleamed under the filtered sunlight, smooth and unmarred, dotted with subtle bioluminescent freckles that shimmered like scattered stars across your high cheekbones and the bridge of your nose. Your lips, full and slightly parted, curved in the faintest hint of relaxation, a stark contrast to the snarls he remembered. Long lashes fanned against your lids, framing eyes hidden now but etched in his memory as embers of defiance. Strands of your dark hair, freed from the raid's bindings, cascaded over the moss like midnight rivers and framing the arch of your neck.
You were breathtaking, vulnerability wrapping around your fierce beauty like a fragile shroud. Out here alone with only the river as sentinel, you seemed almost ethereal. Chest rising and falling in slow even rhythms, the soft swell of your breasts straining gently against the thin weave of your top with each breath. No armor, no blade in hand, just you exposed to the world, exposed to him. Anyone could stumble upon you like this. A hunter, a rival, a man like him and do... something.
The thought sent fury through Neteyam, his gaze lingering with possession and hunger. His eyes trailed downward, drinking in the rest of you with unrestrained fervor.
Your arms were folded loosely beneath your head, elbows bent revealing the toned length of your limbs, muscles subtly defined from years of wielding weapons and commanding warriors. The curve of your waist dipped invitingly where your top rode up slightly exposing a sliver of taut midriff, the skin there flawless and warm-toned as if inviting touch. Your legs stretched out languidly, one knee bent in sleep, the other straight showcasing the powerful thighs that had pinned him so effectively and was now relaxed, their azure expanse glowing faintly in the light. The loincloth rode high on your hips, simple yet accentuating the flare of your form with the fabric clinging to the subtle contours beneath.
Every inch of you spoke of strength wrapped in allure like a siren in repose and Neteyam's breath grew shallow. His body responding with a surge of heat, fists clenching at his sides to restrain the urge to close the distance.
You stirred faintly in your slumber with a soft sigh escaping your lips as a breeze rustled the leaves overhead but your eyes remained closed and lost in dreams unknown.
Neteyam lowered himself silently onto the moss beside you, the soft earth yielding under his weight like a conspirator in his forbidden vigil. The river's gentle current whispered nearby, a serene counterpoint to the storm raging within him.
His golden eyes, sharp and unyielding, fixed first on the rise and fall of your chest then drifted upward to your face. His gaze lingered on those parted lips which was plush and inviting, a stark vulnerability amid your warrior's form. They begged to be claimed and the thought sent a shiver through his frame making his tail flick restlessly behind him.
Lower still, his eyes traced the delicate beaded necklace top that clung to your torso. The strands of iridescent woven fibers draping just enough to shield the peaks of your breasts from full view. Yet the swell of them was evident, they were firm and rounded as they rise with each breath in a rhythm that mesmerized him. The azure curves peeking teasingly at the edges where the beads shifted. They were soft yet perky, a contradiction to the ferocity he knew you wielded and he imagined their weight in his palms, imagined the warmth and plushness yielding under his touch.
Further down, the simple loincloth of supple hide and vines rested high on your hips as it concealed the most intimate sanctum of your body, the place he yearned to uncover as selfish curiosity burned in him.
What secrets lay beneath that barrier?
The smooth contours of your mound perhaps flushed with the same azure hue, the delicate folds he fantasized would glisten with your essence. He wondered at the scent. Maybe it would be musky and wild like the forest after rain mingled with your unique fire and the taste? Maybe it would be sweet and tangy on his tongue, a forbidden nectar that would drive him to madness. His breath hitched, a low heat coiling in his abdomen as he shifted closer, the air between you thickening with unspoken tension.
Unable to resist any longer, Neteyam extended a hand, his callused fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that belied the darkness creeping into his soul. Your skin was impossibly soft there, like the finest moss under moonlight, and as he caressed the curve of your face, you nuzzled into his palm instinctively with a sleepy murmur escaping your lips.
The simple act undid him, it was a glimpse of innocence beneath your cruel exterior. He grinned, fangs peeking through his lips, a mix of affection and hunger lighting his features as he marveled at how cute you were in this moment when youâre stripped of your armor and snarls. This woman, who had threatened his life with such venom, now sought comfort in his touch without knowing it.
Biting his lower lip to stifle the growl building in his throat, Neteyam leaned down with his braids falling forward like dark curtains. He had to taste you just once, to etch this reality into his being. His lips pressed softly against yours in a tentative peck and the contact was electric. Your mouth yielding like ripe fruit, warm and plush that sent a jolt straight to his core.
And yet it wasn't enough, the hunger gnawed deeper within him.
Emboldened, he traced his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip lewdly and deliberately, savoring the faint saltiness before parting your lips further and sliding inside. He explored with unrestrained greed with his tongue curling against yours, sucking gently as a groan threatened to escape him from the pleasure rumbling low in his chest. The intimacy was intoxicating as if you were already mates bound in tsaheylu, your flavors mingling in a dance that blurred the lines of enemy and desire.
You stirred beneath him, a haze of sleep fracturing as awareness flooded in. Your eyelids fluttered open, eyes widening in shock at the invasion.
There he was, the Omatikaya warrior from the raid, Neteyam.
His face inches from yours, his tongue delving deep into your mouth with shameless possession. The wet heat of him and the bold suction on your tongue, it was an assault wrapped in seduction, his breath hot against your skin. Disbelief warred with fury as you registered the intimacy, your body tensing like a coiled spring. Your hands flew up to shove at his chest, your palms pressing against the firm planes of his pectorals feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath.
But Neteyam only groaned aloud now that you were awake, a sound of raw need vibrating against your lips. His large frame pinning you gently but firmly as he deepened the kiss. His mouth claimed yours harder, his tongue thrusting to muffle your rising protests as he swallowed your gasps in a fierce tangle that left you breathless. The world narrowed to the slick slide of him, the scrape of his fangs against your inner lip, and the way his body heat seeped into yours like an unwanted brand.
Finally he pulled back, a glistening thread of saliva bridging your lips that shimmered in the dappled light. He grinned down at you, eyes dark with triumph and yearning etched in the curve of his mouth.
"I've been searching for you." He murmured, voice husky and low with intensity lacing every word as if confessing a sacred vow.
Rage ignited in you like dry tinder to flame. With a feral snarl that bared your sharp teeth and venom dripping from the sound, you lashed out with your leg snapping up to kick him squarely in the ribs. The impact sent him reeling sideways with a grunt escaping him as he rolled onto the moss. Your hands scrambled to your side, fingers closing around the hilt of your dagger before yanking it free in a blur of motion. You surged to your feet, blade glinting as you loomed over him. Your form coiled for violence and breasts heaving with each furious breath that strained against the beaded top you wore much to his delight.
"You filthy demon." You hissed, voice laced with disgust and hatred sharpening your tone like your weapon, the dagger you held poised at his throat. "How dare you do that to me? Touch me like some lowly beast in heat?"
Your free hand wiped at your mouth as if to erase the lingering taste of him but the flush creeping up your neck betrayed a flicker of something else. Intrigue at the boldness of his claim and the way his words hung in the air like a challenge.
Neteyam didn't flinch even as the tip of your blade nicked his skin anew, a thin bead of blood welling up. He pushed himself up on one elbow, his muscular torso flexing under the thin straps of his chest covering as his golden eyes locked on yours with unyielding fervor.
"I can't stop thinking about you." He confessed, the words tumbling out raw and unfiltered with desperation underscoring his plea. "From the moment you pinned me down, your fire... it haunts me. Tell me your name. Let me know who has captured me so completely."
His gaze roamed your form again, not with shame but with open yearning. Tracing the wild tangle of your hair framing your furious expression, the taut lines of your abdomen glistening with a sheen of river mist, and the powerful stance of your legs planted wide in defiance.
Disgust roiled in your gut, hot and acrid, at this Omatikaya intruder who dared invade your solitude and your body with such audacity. He was the enemy, son of the sky demon Toruk Makto, a threat to your clan's dominance and yet, the memory of his tongue and the heat of his mouth lingered like a poison you couldn't quite spit out. Intrigue twisted through the revulsion, what madness drove him to seek you out and kiss you as if you were his destined one?
Your grip tightened on the dagger, your knuckles paling as fury warred with a treacherous curiosity in your eyes.
"You think you can waltz in here and claim what isn't yours?" You spat stepping closer, the blade pressing harder against his jugular. "I should gut you here, leave your corpse for the viwiswasp to feast on. You're nothing but a pest, a filthy sky spawn with delusions."
But even as the words lashed out, mean and cutting, a part of you hesitated. The way his chest rose and fell mirroring your own ragged breaths, the earnest plea in his voice that clashed with the warrior's resolve. You wanted to kill him, to end this absurdity with a swift strike, to reclaim the control he'd stolen in that kiss. Your arm trembled slightly, your beauty twisted into something lethal as your lips curled in a sneer, and eyes blazing with the cruelty that defined you as Varang's sister, the Tsakarem destined to lead with iron will.
Neteyam's hand rose slowly, not to defend but to reach for you, fingers brushing the air near your wrist with longing softening the edges of his gaze.
"Kill me if you must." He whispered, voice thick with emotion and dark passion fueling his defiance. "But know that even in death, I'd want you. Your fire, your cruelty, all of it. You're no enemy to me, you're the one who's awakened something I can't ignore. Your name... please."
He wanted to love you, to pull you into his world of shadows and bind you there, consequences be damned.
Your heart thundered in your ears, a war drum echoing the chaos of betrayal and unwanted heat that his touch had ignited. The dagger trembled in your grasp, its razor edge kissing the pulse point at Neteyam's throat where his azure skin flushed with a mix of exertion and unbridled want. His golden eyes held yours unblinking, a predator's stare that refused to yield even in the face of death.
If giving him this scrap of yourself, of your name, would sever this madness then so be it.
"If I tell you my nameâŠ" You growled, voice low and edged with finality as threat wove through each syllable like thorns. "You must leave me alone. Swear it on Eywa or I'll carve your heart out here and now."
But you didn't wait for his oath, the words spilling from your lips like venom you needed to purge.
"(Y/N). Now leave me be or I'll make sure you die by my blade."
The name hung in the humid air, a reluctant offering that tasted like ash on your tongue. Your lips curled into a savage snarl, fury twisting your features and fangs glinting as you wrenched the dagger away to spun on your heel. Your bare feet sank into the cool moss, propelling you toward the river's edge where the water's gleam promised escape from his suffocating presence. Every muscle in your body coiled with the urge to flee, your hips swaying in a warrior's stride, and the loincloth brushing against your thighs like a reminder of the vulnerability he'd exploited.
"I can't do that." Neteyam called after you, his voice a rough timbre that cut through the rustle of leaves as desperation cracked the edges of his resolve.
He rose fluidly, his form unfolding like a shadow detaching from the earth with broad shoulders rolling as he took a step forward, clearly undeterred by the blood trickling down his neck.
You whirled around with disbelief flooding your veins like ice water, your wild mane of braids whipping across your shoulders in a dark cascade. The motion made your beaded top shift, the shells clinking softly against the curves of your chest which draw his gaze for a fleeting heated instant before you jabbed the dagger toward him accusingly.
"Why do you keep insisting?" You demanded, your voice rising in incredulous outrage while your confusion sharpened into a blade of its own. "Are you stupid, forest boy? We are enemies, Iâm born of a clan that spills blood for sport and yet you want me?"
Your free hand gestured wildly between you, emphasizing the chasm that no words could bridge. Beauty radiated from you even in anger, the full swell of your mouth still tinged with the ghost of his kiss and a flush blooming across your collarbones like forbidden wildflowers.
"You and I could never be." You continued, the words lashing out with cruel precision, scorn dripping from your tone like poison. "My sister, Varang, would sooner see you flayed alive than accept you as the one to claim her tsmuke. She'd rip out your eyes for even dreaming it. And your precious Omatikaya? They'd never accept me. A Mangkwan, the Tsakarem who leads raids into your lands. What a fool you are, chasing shadows that will only lead you to ruin."
In your mind, he was a pathetic spectacle. This golden-eyed warrior, the son of legends, reduced to begging at the feet of his foe. His persistence grated against your pride, a fool's errand that mocked the iron walls you'd built around your heart. You turned away again with your shoulders squared, the dagger sheathed at your hip with a decisive snap and determined to outrun his folly.
"I don't care." Neteyam replied, his words steady and unyielding, a quiet fire burning beneath the surface as he stepped closer until the heat of his body brushed the air at your back.
But you didn't listen nor did let the plea sink in. You vanished into the underbrush, the forest swallowing you whole leaving him with the echo of your name and the sting of rejection.
Ever since that day, he haunted your steps like a specter woven from Pandora's own mists. Neteyam followed you through the tangled wilds of Mangkwan territory as a silent shadow at times, his presence a prickle at the nape of your neck when you scouted alone. Other moments, he'd emerge from the foliage, voice soft yet insistent, murmuring words meant to chip away at your defenses.
"The way you move through the trees, it's like you're part of them." He'd say one afternoon, golden eyes tracing the graceful flex of your calves as you leaped across a fallen log and your frame twisting mid-air with effortless poise.
Or in the hush of twilight as you sharpened your arrows by a flickering fire, he'd linger at the periphery and commenting on the stars reflected in your gaze, how they mirrored the fierce spark within you.
He was persistent, a relentless force driven by a singular goal. To soften you, to peel back the layers of cruelty until the woman he'd glimpsed in your sleep, the one who nuzzled his hand, emerged fully.
His approaches varied, sometimes bold with questions about your hunts, drawing out tales of Mangkwan prowess that made your chest swell despite yourself. Other times, quiet vigils where he'd simply watch, his muscular form leaning against a trunk, the scars on his arms catching the light like badges of battles fought for a cause, now fixated on you. Each encounter left you seething yet a treacherous warmth stirred in your core. His unwavering attention a balm to the isolation of your role as Tsakarem.
Weeks blurred into a tense rhythm, his pursuit weaving into the fabric of your days until one night, under a canopy heavy with the scent of night-blooming vines, you found yourself cornered.
Not by force but by the weight of his words.
You'd been tracking a hexapede through a secluded glade, the moon casting silvery paths on the dew-kissed ferns when he appeared blocking your path with a vulnerability that disarmed you. His braids were tousled from the chase, framing a face etched with raw honesty, the broad planes of his chest rising and falling as if he'd run for miles to reach you.
"Every duty, every breath I take without you feels empty." He confessed, voice a husky murmur, longing threading through like vines around your resolve. "You're not just an enemy, (Y/N). You're the fire that lights my darkness, the cruelty that makes me feel alive. Let me show you, let me prove that clans mean nothing when Eywa binds two souls like this."
His hand reached out not to grab but to hover near yours, the calluses on his fingers speaking of battles and bows. His golden eyes locking onto your lips with an intensity that made your pulse stutter.
The air thickened, charged with the unspoken pull that had simmered since that first kiss. Against your better judgment you stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until his breath ghosted your skin.
What was it about his persistence, the way he saw past your snarls to the beauty you wielded like a weapon?
Your body betrayed you as you leaned in, the soft peaks of your breasts brushing his chest through the thin barrier of beads sending sparks racing down your spine. His lips met yours in a tentative press then deepened as you responded, tongues tangling in a heated dance that tasted of forbidden fruit and shared secrets. Your hands fisted in his hair pulling him closer, the world fading to the firm press of his hips against yours and the low groan he emitted vibrating through you like thunder.
But reality crashed in like a tidal wave. Images of Varang's disapproving glare, the blood-soaked raids between your clans, and the impossibility of it all. You remembered who you were, the Tsakarem, Varang's unyielding sister, not some lovesick dreamer.
With a gasp you shoved him back, your palms slamming into the unyielding wall of his abdomen feeling the ripple of muscle beneath. He stumbled, eyes wide with shock and hurt, confusion flickering in their depths but you didn't let him speak.
"Do not come see me again nor follow me." You commanded, voice breaking with a mix of resolve and regret as steel hardened your tone to mask the tremor.
Your chest heaved, the beaded strands shifting with each ragged breath. You backed away, beauty sharpened by the pain of denial. Eyes stormy with unshed tears, lips swollen from the kiss, the lines of your body poised for flight.
"You and I... we could never be. Go back to your forest, Neteyam. Forget me or the next time I see you, my blade won't hesitate."
You turned and melted into the shadows leaving him kneeling in the glade, the echo of your rejection a wound deeper than any dagger could inflict. "(Y/N), waitâ"
The night closed around you but his presence lingered like a scar like a persistent ache that neither distance nor denial could fully erase.
Weeks dragged on like vines choking the life from a once-vibrant tree and Neteyam hadn't caught even a whisper of your shadow flitting through the undergrowth. It was as if Eywa herself had woven you into the ether, erasing every trace of your presence from the tangled borders where your worlds collided. The forest, once a realm of purpose and patrol now felt hollow, its bioluminescent glow mocking the void you'd left in his chest.
He patrolled the edges of Omatikaya territory with mechanical precision, his bow slung across his back, but his golden eyes scanned not for threats but for the sway of a familiar form cutting through the mist-shrouded ferns.
Distraction clawed at him, a relentless predator that turned his thoughts into a storm of obsession. Training sessions blurred into forgotten commands. He'd miss cues from his father's strategies, his mind replaying the ghost of your lips against his and the way your body had arched into the kiss before rejection shattered the illusion. Your beauty haunted him, the elegant sweep of your neck as you snarled threats and the curve of your hips that spoke of battles won and raids led with unyielding command.
It consumed him, this dark hunger that twisted his once noble heart into something feral with nights spent pacing his marui pod, fingers tracing the air where your warmth had once pressed against him. Sleep evaded him replaced by visions of your eyes flashing defiance, your full mouth curving in cruel dismissal.
His family noticed the fracture in their golden son, the way his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight, his once-sharp focus dulled like a blade left too long in the rain. Meals passed in silence with his portions untouched until Lo'ak, ever the bold sibling, cornered him one evening by the central fire pit. The flames danced across their azure skin, casting flickering shadows that mirrored the turmoil in Neteyam's gaze.
Lo'ak dropped onto the woven mat beside him, his tail flicking with casual concern, lean muscles shifting under his arm bands as he leaned in.
"Bro, are you okay?" Lo'ak asked, voice laced with brotherly worry and a teasing edge softening the probe with his ears twitching forward. "You've been off lately like you're hunting ghosts or something."
Neteyam nodded absently, his jaw tightening as he poked at the embers with a stick, sparks rising like fleeting hopes. The motion was rote, his mind elsewhere and tangled in the memory of your scent.
Lo'ak wasn't convinced, his brow furrowing as he studied the distant look in his brother's eyes.
He nudged Neteyam's arm, the contact grounding but insistent. "Did something happen during the Mangkwan raid before Dad and I found you? Spill it."
Neteyam stilled, the stick snapping in his grip as the question yanked him back to that fateful clash. The ash-streaked warrior who'd pinned him with a blade, your body a taut bowstring of lethal grace. The memory ached like a fresh wound, your name a thorn embedded deep in his being.
He exhaled sharply, golden eyes darkening with the weight of confession.
"The Tsakarem of Mangkwan." He murmured, voice rough with longing, a raw edge betraying the storm within him. "I want her. (Y/N)."
Lo'ak's eyes widened stupefied, his mouth parting in shock as he processed the impossibility. His golden brother, the perfect heir, ensnared by an enemy? The very heart of Mangkwan cruelty?
He leaned back running a hand through his braids as disbelief etched lines across his face. "Bro... you know Dad and Mom would never approve. She's one of them. The ones who raid our allies, spill blood like it's water. What the hell, Neteyam?"
Neteyam's jaw clenched, the muscle ticking visibly under his skin, a fortress against the truth that echoed your own words like a cruel refrain.
He knew it, his Dadâs stern lectures on duty, his Momâs unyielding gaze on clan purity but it did nothing to quench the fire you'd ignited. Your rejection replayed in his mind, the push of your hands against his chest, and the storm in your eyes as you declared your worlds irreconcilable. It only fueled the madness in him, making him crave the challenge of breaking through your walls.
As the brothers' tense exchange hung in the air, a soft rustle drew their attention.
Alayni emerged from the shadows of the surrounding pods, her steps hesitant and shy glances darting toward Neteyam like fireflies seeking light. Her frame was draped in healer's vines, the gentle swell of her hips swaying with quiet grace, her face framed by loose tendrils that caught the firelight and highlighting the soft blush on her cheeks. She carried a small pouch of herbs in a pretext for her approach but her eyes betrayed the deeper intent.
Lo'ak spotted her first, a mischievous grin splitting his face as he clapped Neteyam on the shoulder, the pat teasing and knowing amusement dancing in his tone. "Looks like your admirer is here for you. Don't mess this up, golden boy."
With a wink, he rose and sauntered off leaving Neteyam to the awkward solitude.
Neteyam rolled his eyes, a flicker of irritation crossing his features but he schooled his expression as Alayni settled beside him. Closer than usual, her knee brushing his thigh in a tentative claim of space. The warmth of her proximity was gentle and unthreatening, her fingers twisting the pouch nervously as she met his gaze.
"How are you?" She asked softly, voice a melodic lilt with shyness threading through like delicate vines as her full lips curved in a hopeful smile. "It feels like I haven't seen you around since I treated your wound. You've been... distant."
Neteyam shrugged, his broad shoulders lifting in a noncommittal motion making the scars on his arms flex subtly under the fire's glow.
"Duties." He replied curtly, voice flat as an evasion masking the turmoil, his mind already drifting back to you, the one whose touch lingered like a brand.
Alayni leaned in slightly, her breath warm against his ear preparing to bridge the gap with words of care, her hand hovering near his as if to offer solace. But before she could speak, shouts erupted from the tree line with harsh cries of victory and the thud of bound feet against the earth.
Neteyam's head snapped up, heart thudding against his ribs like a war drum as he spotted his father and the warriors returning, their forms silhouetted against the fading light.
The captives trailed behind, ash-streaked skins marking them as Mangkwan raiders, their bodies slumped in defeat. Five in total, wrists bound with sturdy vines but one sight stopped Neteyam's breath.
You.
Unconscious, your form cradled in the arms of a warrior with your head lolling against his chest, the ash paint smudged across your high cheekbones and the elegant line of your jaw. Your braids hung limp framing a face pale from exhaustion, the resilient curves of your body draped in tattered raiding gear that clung to the subtle flare of your waist and the firm strength of your thighs.
The others were dragged roughly but you were carried like a precious cargo even in enmity.
He scrambled to his feet, abandoning Alayni mid-breath, her confused expression lost in his haste. Legs pumping, he wove through the gathering crowd following Jake and the warriors into the large containment hut at the village's edge. The structure loomed, woven from sturdy branches and hides, its interior dim and partitioned for holding foes.
The captives were deposited inside. The four males shoved into a far corner with their glares defiant as their hisses of Mangkwan curses filled the air.
You were placed apart in a secluded alcove screened by a heavy cloth drape, your unconscious form laid gently on a mat of woven reeds. The warrior who carried you stepped back wiping sweat from his brow as Jake oversaw the securing of the space.
"Dad, what happened?" Neteyam demanded, voice edged with urgency and concern sharpening his tone like a drawn arrow as he stepped into the hut's shadowed confines with his tail lashing behind him.
Jake turned, his massive frame blocking the entrance momentarily, his eyes weary from the skirmish but sharp with command.
He wiped a streak of dirt from his arm, the muscles there corded from years of battle. "We were about to capture Varang. Had her cornered in the ravine but the female blocked it, took the hit meant for her. Bought enough time for their Tsahik to escape."
The female. You. The only one among them, your role as shield a testament to the fierce loyalty that bound you to your sister in fire and ash.
Neteyam's gaze flicked to your still form, hidden now behind the cloth and a pang twisted in his gut.
"She's the Tsakarem." He supplied, the words heavy with a mix of protectiveness and dread lacing his revelation.
Jake's eyes widened, surprise flashing across his stern features as he processed the implications, his hand pausing mid-gesture. "She's important to the Mangkwans then. Varang will probably come after her. Ransom or rescue, doesn't matter. We can't let that slide."
"She will." Neteyam confirmed stepping closer, his voice low and resolute, the ache of your vulnerability fueling his words. "That's her younger sister. Varang won't rest until she's free."
Jake nodded at the confirmation, his expression hardening into strategic resolve, clapping a hand on Neteyam's shoulder in brief solidarity. "We will keep a tight watch then. I'll ask them questions later. See what we can pry loose about their next moves."
With that he turned and strode out, the warriors filing after him leaving the hut in tense silence broken only by the captives' low growls from the corner.
Neteyam lingered, the air thick with the scent of sweat and earth from the raid. He approached your alcove parting the cloth with a steady hand, the fabric whispering against his fingers. There you lay tied loosely at wrists and ankles to prevent escape upon waking. Vines that bit gently into your skin, marked by fresh bruises blooming like dark petals along your arms and the arch of your collarbone.
Still as beautiful as he remembered, even in captivity. Your lashes fanned against your cheeks, full lips parted slightly in unconscious repose, the soft rise and fall of your chest drawing his eye to the swell beneath your disheveled top, and beads scattered like fallen stars.
He wanted to see you again, to clash words and wills in the wild freedom of the forest but not like this. Bound and broken at the mercy of his clan. Not with his family's eyes now fixed on you as a prize in their war. Kneeling beside you, the mat dipping under his weight as he reached out, callused fingers tracing the curve of your cheek and brushing away a smudge of ash to reveal the smooth glow beneath. Your skin was warm, alive with the pulse he knew so well, and the touch sent a shiver through him as desire warred with regret.
Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Gentle and lingering, tasting the faint salt of battle and the sweetness he'd stolen before.
"Foolish girl." He whispered against your mouth, tenderness laced with dark possession as his breath mingled with yours in the dim light.
The words were a caress and a claim, his thumb stroking the plush line of your lower lip as he pulled back, golden eyes devouring the sight of you vulnerable yet unbroken. In this moment with the world outside plotting your fate, he vowed silently to shield you. From his clan, from Varang's wrath, from everything but the bond that refused to die.
You stirred faintly under his touch, a soft murmur escaping your throat but consciousness eluded you still. Neteyam remained, a sentinel in the shadows, his heart a battlefield where love and enmity bled into one.
Hours slipped by in the dim hush of the containment hut, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and lingering smoke from the raid. Flickering torchlight danced across the woven walls, casting elongated shadows that twisted like serpents in the undergrowth.
You stirred slowly, the haze of unconsciousness peeling away to reveal the ache throbbing through your limbs, a dull fire from the blow that had felled you, protecting Varang's escape. Your eyelids fluttered open, gaze sharpening as the world came into focus. The sturdy reeds beneath you, the vines binding your wrists and ankles in a loose but unyielding embrace, and worst of all, the two figures looming nearby.
Neteyam knelt close, his golden eyes fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on hunger, broad shoulders tense under his warrior's harness, the lean cords of muscle in his arms flexing as he leaned forward. Beside him stood Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, his massive frame radiating authority, scarred torso marked by battles long past, tail swaying with restrained impatience.
A snarl ripped from your throat, low and feral disgust curling your lips like a predator's warning, your body coiling against the restraints as you bared your teeth. The sight of them, your captors and enemies, ignited a blaze in your chest, your form tensing, the subtle strength in your thighs pressing against the mat as you tested the bonds.
Jake crossed his arms, his gaze steady and unyielding, a hint of weary respect in his tone. "Your warriors stabbed themselves refusing to talk. You are the only one left."
You met his eyes, a smirk twisting your full mouth despite the vulnerability of your position, the line of your jaw lifting in defiance. Ash still clung in faint traces to your high cheekbones, accentuating the beauty of your features.
"Their loyalties bind them to us." You replied, voice smooth and laced with pride, a mocking edge sharpening the words, your chest rising with a steady breath that drew attention to the swell beneath your tattered top.
Jake tsked, shaking his head, the sound rough like gravel, underfoot frustration etching faint lines around his eyes. "You're one stubborn clan."
You hissed at him, the sound sharp and venomous, hatred flashing in your stare, ears flattening against your skull as you glared at the legend before you, the human-turned-Na'vi who embodied everything your clan despised.
"You will remain here, captive." Jake continued, his voice firm, command underscoring the decree. "You'll be our leverage if your sister ever decides to attack."
A growl rumbled deep in your chest, directed solely at him. The Toruk Makto, the anomaly who dared threaten your bloodline. Your fingers curled into fists within the vines, nails digging into your palms, the taper of them drawing faint crescents on your skin.
Jake sighed, the exhale heavy with the weight of leadership, and clapped a hand on Neteyam's shoulder, the gesture paternal and trusting as a subtle nod of handover. "Keep watch on her. The responsibility is on you."
Neteyam nodded, his expression composed outward, calm masking the thrill surging through his veins, but inside, glee bubbled like a hidden spring. He alone would guard you, tend to you, unravel the fortress of your resistance. As Jake strode out, the flap of the hut falling shut behind him, the space shrank to just the two of you, the air humming with unspoken tension.
"Baby." Neteyam murmured, voice low and intimate, affection warming the endearment as he shifted closer on his knees, his warm breath ghosting over your bound form.
You recoiled, disgust twisting your features, revulsion flaring hot in your gut, your head snapping back as far as the position allowed, the cascade of your braids shifting across your shoulders.
"Don't call me with that filthy tawtute terms of yours." You spat, words dripping venom as anger sharpened each syllable, your torso arching away from him.
He ignored the barb, golden eyes gleaming with unshakeable resolve as he leaned in, the scent of forest and him invading your senses. "Why did you let yourself get captured?"
You snarled baring fangs, fury igniting your gaze like struck flint, straining against the vines that held your wrists above your head, the motion pulling taut the supple curve of your arms.
"I am protecting our tsahik." You hissed, loyalty a shield as unyielding as your will, your voice echoing the sacred bond to Varang.
His lips curved into a grin, wide and boyish yet edged with something darker, delight sparkling in his eyes, the sharp angles of his face softening in the torchlight. "I've missed you."
You rolled your eyes, the gesture exaggerated, exasperation warring with the unwelcome flutter in your chest, turning your face away, the slope of your neck exposed in the motion, beads from your disrupted adornments clinking softly.
"I've missed your lips." He added, voice dropping to a husky whisper, desire threading through like vines claiming a tree, his fingers reaching out to trace the plush contour of your mouth, calluses rough against the sensitive skin.
You shook him off with a jerk of your head, the touch igniting sparks of unwanted heat irritation flaring alongside a traitorous shiver.
"Do not touch me, demon." You commanded, tone icy, loathing masking the conflict stirring within you.
But he only grinned wider, happiness radiating from him like bioluminescent blooms, his joy unmarred by your barbs as he settled back on his haunches to simply watch you, the weight of his gaze a caress in itself.
The days that followed blurred into a rhythm of captivity and unwelcome intimacy, the hut your world narrowed to woven walls and the single guardian who haunted your every waking moment.
Neteyam was the only face you saw, his presence a constant. Bringing woven baskets of fruit and roasted meats, feeding you with deliberate care. His fingers would brush your lips as he offered bites of sweet berry, the juice staining your chin, and you'd snarl with defiance in every bite, snapping at his hand like a cornered ikran, yet he persisted undeterred, his touch lingering on the delicate skin of your jaw.
He touched you freely, hands roaming while you snarled and twisted as fury boiled beneath your skin, the vines holding you fast to the mat or a sturdy post when he deemed it necessary. Stolen kisses came unbidden, his mouth claiming yours in quick heated presses when your guards were down, tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you bit back with rage fueling the clash of teeth.
He was utterly smitten, golden eyes devouring every inch of you with the way your chest heaved with indignant breaths, the flex of your thighs as you kicked futilely, the wild beauty of your stare that promised retribution.
One afternoon, as sunlight filtered through the hut's slits in golden shafts, he untied your ankles just enough to pull you onto his lap, your back pressed against the solid wall of his chest. His arms encircled your waist, strong and unyielding with possessiveness in his hold, the heat of his body seeping through your sparse coverings.
You snarled writhing, disgust and something perilously close to anticipation warring within, but the bonds on your wrists kept you captive to his whims.
"Shh, just relax." He murmured against your ear, tenderness laced with command, his large hands sliding upward, cupping the soft perky mounds of your breasts through the thin beaded top.
His thumbs circled the peaks, teasing them to firm points, desire evident in the hitch of his breath as he massaged your breasts with slow deliberate strokes that sent unwelcome jolts through your core. The sensation was maddening, the rough pads of his fingers kneading the yielding flesh, tracing the alluring undersweep before pinching lightly, drawing a gasp you couldn't suppress betrayal in the sound.
Your body arched involuntarily, nipples hardening under his touch, the azure skin flushing with heat as he lavished attention, his lips grazing the curve of your shoulder.
"See? You like it." He whispered, smug satisfaction coloring his voice, nipping at the tender skin there, his hips shifting subtly beneath you, the growing hardness pressing against your lower back.
You growled low, humiliation burning alongside the forbidden pleasure, twisting your head to glare at him, but the fight in your eyes dimmed fractionally with each passing day.
Weeks wove onward, the passage marked by the changing light outside and the subtle shift within you.
The snarls grew less fervent, your body anticipating his arrivals from the brush of his fingers to the the warmth of his frame, though you'd never admit it, never let the fondness crack your armored facade. You'd avert your gaze when he fed you, lips parting almost eagerly for the morsels, or lean into his massages despite the huffs of protest, a secret thrill coiling in your belly.
His touches became a ritual with his hands exploring the lines of your sides, thumbs dipping into the dip of your waist, or tracing the strong taper of your legs, always pushing boundaries while you feigned outrage.
One evening, as the stars began their vigil beyond the hut, Neteyam had you straddled across his thighs once more, your bound hands resting on his shoulders for balance.
The air hummed with humidity, your skin glistening faintly, the elegant fan of your lashes lowered as his palms worked their magic on your breasts again. This time bare, the beads pushed aside to expose the soft rounded swells. He kneaded them with reverence, awe in the gentle pressure, rolling the sensitive buds between fingers slick with shared sweat. His mouth following to lave hot open-mouthed kisses along the valley between.
Your breath hitched, conflict evident in the stutter, hips rocking subtly against him, the friction igniting sparks that blurred the line between hate and hunger. He groaned against your skin as need roughened the sound, one hand sliding down to grip the firm curve of your ass, pulling you closer as his tongue flicked teasingly.
It was in this haze of intimacy, bodies entwined like mates in the privacy of the alcove, that Alayni slipped into the hut unseen, her steps silent as a healer's grace. She had come under pretense of checking the captives' wounds, her pouch of salves clutched tightly, but the sight that greeted her froze her in the shadows.
You and Neteyam, lost in each other, his hands worshipping your form, your head thrown back in a moment of unguarded surrender.
Fury ignited in her chest, hot and consuming jealousy twisting her features into a mask of rage, eyes narrowing to slits.
Neteyam was supposed to be hers. The shy glances she'd cast, the wounds she'd tended with lingering touches, the dreams of bonding under Eywa's gaze. And now, here he was, defiling that future with you. An enemy, a Mangkwan witch, doing filthy things that should have been hers alone. Her fingers tightened on the pouch, knuckles paling, as she watched his mouth claim a nipple, your soft moan piercing the air like a betrayal.
But anger birthed cunning.
Alayni's lips curled into a smirk, cold and calculating as vindictive glee sparked in her gaze, she backed away silently, melting into the night. She knew just what to do, whispers to the right ears, seeds of doubt sown in fertile soil.
Varang would come for her sister but before that, she'd ensure this forbidden flame was snuffed out, one way or another.
The days dragged on in the stifling confines of the hut, your world reduced to the flicker of torch flames and the relentless pull of the vines that bound you. Whispers from beyond the woven walls hinted at unrest, scouts reporting movements in the ash-choked territories but you paid them little mind, your thoughts a whirlwind of simmering resentment and the unwelcome echoes of Neteyam's touches.
Unbeknownst to everyone, Alayni moved like a shadow through the camp, her steps light and purposeful as she sought out a Mangkwan scout. With a healer's gentle facade masking her venom, she slipped him a message etched on a leaf. The location of the Omatikaya's hidden holding ground, the precise hut where you were kept. Satisfaction curled her lips as she watched him dispatch immediately after hissing at her.
Varang would come, of that she was certain, and once you were ripped away, the stain you'd left on Neteyam's heart would fade, leaving her path clear.
She bided her time with calculated grace, weaving herself deeper into the fabric of the Sully family.
Mornings found her at Neytiri's side in the healer's marui, her hands steady as she ground herbs for poultices, her voice soft with feigned humility, adoration shining in her wide eyes as she praised Neytiri's wisdom. Evenings brought her to Jake, offering insights on the refugees' wounds, her touch lingering just a fraction too long on his arm as she murmured concerns for the clan's future.
Approval warmed their gazes, nods of encouragement that fueled her ambition. Everything unfolded as she envisioned. His parents' favor solidified, pressure mounting on Neteyam to seal the bond before the shadows of war encroached further.
One humid afternoon, as the sun dipped toward the canopy in a blaze of amber, Alayni slipped into your hut unannounced, the flap rustling like a conspirator's whisper.
You lay there, wrists still secured to the low beam overhead, your frame stretched out on the mat, the faint sheen of sweat tracing the elegant hollows of your collarbones. Your azure skin glowed softly in the diffused light, the subtle freckles across your shoulders like scattered stars, and your chest rose in steady rhythms.
She knelt beside you, her posture demure yet predatory, knees folding gracefully onto the earth as her tail flicked with restrained triumph. Her fingers brushed the edge of the mat, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from your body.
"So this is where my soon-to-be mate has been occupying himself with." She said, voice honeyed with mock pity as a saccharine smile curved her lips, eyes glinting with malice.
You stared at her blankly, eyes narrowing slightly as you took in her features.
"Who?" You asked tone flat, your head tilting just enough to let a braid slip over your shoulder, brushing the firm flesh of your bicep.
Her grin widened, sweet as overripe fruit, revealing the gleam of her teeth as she leaned closer, the scent of healing herbs clinging to her like a veil.
"Neteyam." She purred, the name rolling off her tongue with possessive delight, triumph lacing the revelation. "We will be mated earlier than planned, as per his parents."
Something twisted in your chest. A sharp unexpected clench that stole your breath like thorns snagging delicate vines. Your heart stuttered, a betraying ache blooming beneath your ribs, but you schooled your features into impassive stone, the high planes of your cheekbones unchanging, your gaze steady as unyielding rock.
All this time, his whispers, his hands mapping your skin like sacred territory, his stolen kisses that left you breathless and conflicted, they were lies woven around another. A potential mate waiting in the wings while he toyed with you, the enemy captive.
Sick demon bastard.
"Put him on a leash then." You replied, forcing a grin that mirrored hers, malice flashing in your stare like lightning over ash plains, your voice dripping with feigned amusement. "So your future mate will stop coming to pester me."
The words tasted like bile but you held the expression as you met her stare head on.
Meanwhile, across the camp in the central marui, Neteyam stood rigid before his parents, the air thick with the scent of spiced tea and unresolved tension.
Jake's broad frame filled the space, his scarred arms crossed over his chest while Neytiri sat poised nearby, her fingers tracing patterns on a woven mat, golden eyes watchful.
The news fell like a stone into still water. A mating with Alayni, sealed in just one month's time, earlier than tradition dictated, a safeguard against the uncertainties of leadership should fate claim both Jake and Neytiri in battle.
"It's for the clan, son." Jake said, voice gravelly with finality, concern etching deeper lines into his brow, clapping a hand on Neteyam's shoulder, the weight meant to ground him.
Neytiri nodded, her tail curling supportively around her leg gentle resolve in her tone. "Alayni is devoted and strong, she is who we have chosen. She will stand beside you as Olo'eyktan's mate."
Fury burned through Neteyam's veins, hot and unquenchable, his jaw clenching so tightly the muscles bunched along his sharp jawline.
He didn't want her. Not her shy glances, not her dutiful presence, they were chains disguised as comfort. No, his thoughts raced to you. The fire in your snarls, the beauty of your form yielding under his touch, the forbidden pull that consumed him. You, with your pretty eyes that pierced like arrows, your body a landscape he longed to claim eternally.
He said nothing, golden eyes darkening with suppressed rage, turning on his heel without another word. The marui's flap snapped shut behind him as he stormed toward your hut, craving the solace of your presence, the one anchor in this storm of obligation.
He pushed through the entrance, the dim interior unfolding before him like a betrayal frozen in time.
There you were, bound and defiant, but your face. Oh, Eywa, your face, it was lit with a grin that sliced deeper than any blade. The malicious glint in your eyes was back, amplified tenfold, a savage spark that echoed the day he'd first seen you amid the raid's chaos, ash-streaked and commanding.
Beside you knelt Alayni, her expression a mask of innocence shattered by the scene.
"Look, your future mate is here." You said, the words laced with venomous glee as your grin widened, teeth flashing as you tilted your chin upward.
The coldness in your stare pinned him, stripping away the fragile warmth he'd coaxed from you over weeks of stolen intimacies.
Neteyam stiffened, his broad chest heaving with a sharp inhale, the lean planes of his abdomen tensing beneath his harness.
You knew. The progress, the softening glances, the reluctant leans into his embrace crumbled to dust before his eyes. Alayni had poisoned it all, her meddling a dagger to his desires.
His gaze flicked to her, fury igniting like dry tinder. Without a word, he lunged forward, large hand wrapping around Alayni's slender wrist in a grip of iron, frustration boiling over in the tremble of his fingers. He dragged her up and out, her body stumbling in his wake, the flap whipping shut behind them.
You watched them go, the grin on your lips turning colder and sharper, like frost on volcanic glass a hollow ache gnawing at your core despite the armor. They did look good together, her demure form tucked against his towering strength, a picture of clan-approved harmony. And that truth stung more than any admission, a barb lodging deep, twisting with the realization of your own foolish vulnerability.
Outside, in the shadowed alcove between huts, Neteyam released Alayni with a shove, whirling on her as a hiss escaped his throat, low and guttural rage vibrating through the sound, his ears pinning back flat against his braided hair.
"What did you tell her?" He demanded, golden eyes blazing, the sharp angles of his face hardened into lines of accusation, his tail lashing like a whip.
Alayni glanced up at him through her lashes, the gesture shy and fluttering, feigned innocence veiling the satisfaction in her depths, rubbing her wrist with delicate fingers.
"That we will be mated in a month." She replied softly, voice trembling just enough to evoke pity, a subtle pout forming on her lips.
Neteyam growled, the sound rumbling from his chest like distant thunder, frustration etching fury across his features, stepping closer until his shadow engulfed her.
"You ruined everything." He snarled, fists clenching at his sides, the cords of muscle in his forearms standing out in stark relief.
"I was just saying the truth." Alayni countered, chin lifting with quiet defiance, resolve strengthening her tone, eyes locking onto his. "Especially since it's been blessed by your parents. It's for the good of the clan, Neteyam."
He opened his mouth to retort, words of denial and desperation bubbling up, but the air shattered with a deafening roar. Explosions ripped through the camp, blooms of fire and ash erupting from the perimeter like vengeful spirits unleashed. The ground trembled, screams piercing the night as warriors scrambled, bows drawn and ikran screeching overhead. Mangkwans, fierce shadows descending from the shadows, their forms painted in war cries and fury.
They had come for you.
The chaos erupted like the fury of Eywa's wrath, the night sky fracturing with bursts of flame and acrid smoke that clawed at the senses.
Neteyam froze at the threshold of the marui, his hand outstretched toward the flap, every fiber of his being screaming to reach you, to shield you from the encroaching storm. But another explosion thundered closer, shaking the woven platform beneath his feet, the ground vibrating with the impact of Mangkwan ikrans diving from the shadowed cliffs. Warriors' cries pierced the air, sharp desperate calls to arms and he knew with a sinking dread, that duty bound him first.
His golden eyes lingered on the shadowed interior for a heartbeat longer, the pull toward you a magnetic ache in his chest before he spun away, muscles coiling like a predator's as he sprinted into the fray. m
Alayni stood forgotten in the dust, her form shrinking in his wake as he vanished among the leaping shadows of Omatikaya defenders.
Inside the marui, the world tilted on its axis. You had barely settled back against the mat, the vines around your wrists a familiar rasp against your skin, when the first boom reverberated through the walls, deep and ominous, like the rumble of volcanic depths stirring awake. Your eyes snapped open, head lifting as the air grew thick with the scent of scorched earth and distant blood.
What was this? Another raid? Or something far worse, born of the tensions that had simmered since your capture?
The flap burst open without warning, a silhouette materializing in the torchlight like a specter from the ash plains. Tall and imposing, her frame clad in the jagged armor of Mangkwan war paint, stripes of obsidian gleaming across her broad shoulders and down the powerful lines of her thighs.
Varang, your sister, the unyielding force of your clan, stepped forward, her presence filling the space with an electric menace, her tail lashing once in sharp triumph.
"Little tsmuke." She rumbled, voice low and edged with possessive glee, a fierce grin splitting her face, revealing the sharpened points of her canines as her amber eyes locked onto yours with predatory affection.
Your breath caught, a surge of relief flooding through you like cool rain on parched soil, your body shifting upright despite the bindings, the subtle flex of your toned abdomen drawing the loincloth's edges taut against your hips.
"Varang." You whispered, the word laced with raw vulnerability, hope flickering in your gaze, your full lips curving into a tentative smile that softened the sharp beauty of your features. "You came for me?"
She moved with purposeful strides, her large hands reaching for the vines with swift efficiency, slicing through them with a hidden dagger that flashed in the dim light. The fibers parted with a soft snap, and freedom rushed back into your limbs, a tingling warmth spreading from your wrists as you rubbed the faint red marks blooming on your azure skin.
Varang's grin widened, menacing and triumphant, her broad chest heaving with barely contained energy, the intricate scars across her collarbone catching the fire's glow like badges of conquest.
"Yes." She said, tone brooking no delay, commanding resolve in her stance as she gripped your arm, pulling you to your feet with effortless strength. "Come."
You followed her out into the night, the marui's warmth giving way to the chaotic symphony of battle.
The village platform teemed with motion. Omatikaya warriors leaping between branches, their forms blurring as they nocked arrows and unleashed volleys into the descending horde. Mangkwan fighters swarmed from the treeline, their ikran shrieking as they clashed mid-air, talons raking through flesh and wing. Explosions bloomed sporadically, grenades of volcanic powder hurled by your kin, igniting the underbrush in furious orange. The air hummed with the twang of bowstrings and the guttural roars of combat, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the earthy musk of sweat-soaked bodies.
Your bare feet padded softly over the woven walkways, heart pounding in sync with the frenzy, your unbound arms swinging freely for the first time in weeks, the cool night breeze kissing the exposed curves of your waist and the gentle swell of your breasts beneath the beaded strands.
Then, amid the turmoil, you spotted her. Alayni, huddled against a nearby post, her slender frame trembling in the flickering light, wide eyes darting as if seeking an anchor in the storm.
Varang strode past without a flicker of acknowledgment, her focus laser-sharp on escape but you couldn't hold back.
A snarl tore from your throat, low and feral fury igniting in your gaze, your lips peeling back to expose teeth in a vicious baring, the line of your neck tensing as you leaned toward her.
Varang's hand clamped down on your shoulder, firm and unyielding, halting your advance mid-step.
You glanced up at her, confusion etching across your face, the high cheekbones flushing faintly with the heat of your anger.
"She was the one who told us where you were. I would have cut her kuru off but we will be wasting time." Varang explained, voice a gravelly murmur as disgust curled her upper lip.
The revelation hit like a spear to the gut.
This fucking bitch, going to such depraved extremes just to claim Neteyam? Betraying her own people, inviting destruction upon them for a twisted shot at his bond?
Rage and amusement simmered in your veins, hot and unfiltered, but you channeled it into a smirk, slow and menacing, your eyes narrowing to slits that gleamed with cruel intelligence. You stepped closer to Alayni despite Varang's hold, your posture shifting into one of mocking poise, the graceful sway of your hips accentuating the lithe power in your legs.
"You became a traitor to your people just to have him?" You taunted, voice silky with venom as a low chuckle bubbled up, your head tilting to let a braid sway against the smooth plane of your shoulder. "Do you think you'd be mated with him once they found out you were the one who caused this destruction, their deaths?"
You giggled then, the sound cruel and crystalline, echoing like shattering glass amid the distant clamor, your laughter laced with derision as you watched her eyes sharpen, the shy facade cracking to reveal the venom beneath.
Alayni's features twisted, her soft mouth compressing into a thin line, but she forced a grin in return, brittle and defiant, her hands clenching at her sides, knuckles paling against her blue skin.
"No one will know." She hissed, the words dripping with false sweetness, a predatory glint flashing in her gaze, her chin lifting in haughty challenge. "Because you won't be here anymore to tell him."
You met her stare with a taunting calm, your smirk unwavering, the corners of your mouth quirking upward in serene mockery, your body relaxed yet poised, the subtle rise and fall of your chest betraying none of the storm within.
Varang's fingers dug into your arm then, urging you onward with a sharp tug, her massive form shielding you as she propelled you toward the edge of the platform.
"Enough." She growled, impatience sharpening her tone, her free hand gesturing toward her waiting nightwraith in the shadows.
Hesitation gripped you like invisible chains, heavier than the vines ever were.
Over those endless days and nights, fondness had crept into your heart for Neteyam. Unwanted and insidious, a warmth that bloomed in the wake of his persistent touches, his whispered promises that now rang hollow. You had grown accustomed to the way his golden eyes softened for you, the reverence in his caresses tracing the valleys of your spine, the heat of his body pressing close in the dim hut.
But to stay?
To linger as their prisoner, forced to witness him bound to this scheming viper in a month's time? No. The betrayal stung deeper than any wound. He had lied, omitted the truth of his impending mating while his hands roamed your skin, murmuring of futures intertwined, of desires that now felt like cruel jests. Your chest tightened, a sigh escaping your lips, soft and resigned, your shoulders slumping ever so slightly, the curve of your back arching as you drew in the smoky air you were familiar with.
You ran then, matching Varang's powerful strides, your legs carrying you with renewed vigor over the swaying bridges, the wind whipping through your hair and cooling the flush on your cheeks. The battle raged around you, but your focus narrowed to escape. The distant calls of your ikran, the path to freedom amid the chaos. Behind you, the marui faded into the night, a chapter closing with bitter finality.
Minutes stretched into an eternity of skirmishes before Neteyam could break free, his bow still humming from the arrows he'd loosed into the fray, his chest heaving with exertion, streaks of soot marring the defined ridges of his torso. He raced back to the marui, ignoring the sting of superficial cuts along his arms, his mind a singular blaze.
You.
Bursting through the flap, he scanned the interior, the empty mat, the severed vines scattered like discarded shackles. His heart plummeted, a cold void yawning in his chest, the lean muscles of his frame going rigid as denial clawed at him.
He whirled out, golden eyes landing on Alayni, who lingered outside, her posture a picture of feigned distress, arms wrapped around her slender waist as if to ward off the night's terror. He ignored the way she reached for him, her fingers brushing his elbow and fixed her with a glare that could shatter stone.
"Where is she?" He demanded, voice rough and edged with panic, his jaw clenching, the sharp planes of his face taut with desperation, tail flicking erratically behind him.
Alayni's expression crumpled into one of artful fragility, her wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears, lashes fluttering as she gazed up at him, her voice emerging soft and quivering, laced with sorrowful conviction. "She ran away, Neteyam. Her sister came and freed her. I told her you wouldn't want her to leave but she was happy to be free. Said she didn't want to be here... nor be in your presence."
Silence crashed over him like a tidal wave, his breath stalling in his lungs, the world narrowing to the echo of her words.
You really didn't like him. All those weeks,the stolen moments where your body arched into his, the fleeting softness in your gaze, the reluctant sighs that he mistook for yielding, they were illusions, born of captivity's coercion. You had endured him, nothing more, your responses a prisoner's survival, not a spark of true connection. The fire that had burned in his soul for you flickered and died, leaving only ashes in its wake, his heart turning to ice, numb and unyielding.
His broad shoulders sagged imperceptibly, the golden light in his eyes dimming to shadowed resolve.
Alayni stepped closer, her hand finding his arm again, this time with gentle insistence comfort threading her tone, a subtle smile curving her lips as she pressed the advantage. "It's okay, Neteyam. She is a Mangkwan, she's been wanting to escape. At least our people will have no problems anymore, and in a month, we will be mated."
He didn't pull away, the words settling over him like a shroud.
Acceptance seeped in, cold and inevitable, you did not want him, and perhaps it was time to let the obsession fracture, to forge ahead with the path laid before him by clan and kin. The battle's din faded to a distant roar as the warrior's mask slipped back into place, burying the remnants of his shattered longing for you.
Since then, weeks had slipped by like shadows fleeing the dawn, each day etching deeper lines of detachment into Neteyam's once-vibrant spirit. The lush canopy of the Omatikaya village hummed with its eternal rhythm, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant calls of ikran wheeling overhead, but for him, the world had dulled to a muted haze. His golden eyes, once alight with the fire, now stared out with a steely impassivity, scanning horizons not for wonder, but for threats to be neutralized.
The raid led by Varang had receded into memory, its scars healed on the village platforms, yet the wound it inflicted on him festered unseen, a quiet erosion of the warmth that had defined him.
Tuk, with her boundless energy and innocent delight, felt the chill most acutely. She bounded up to him one evening as he sharpened his blade by the communal fire, her small hands clutching a fresh weave of beads, iridescent stones and feathers intertwined in a pattern mimicking the bioluminescent vines that glowed at night. Her tail swished with eager anticipation, freckles dancing across her cheeks as she thrust the creation forward, her wide eyes sparkling with hope voice bubbling with excitement.
"Neteyam, look! I made this for you, it's like the stars we saw last eclipse!"
He paused, the whetstone halting mid-stroke against the obsidian edge, his broad shoulders tensing beneath the woven straps of his chest harness. For a fleeting moment, his gaze softened, tracing the delicate craftsmanship in her tiny fingers, the way the beads caught the sunlight and shimmered like captured fireflies. But the spark didn't ignite, no smile curved his lips, no playful ruffle of her hair followed.
Instead, he nodded curtly, resuming his task with mechanical precision, his jaw set in a firm line, voice flat and distant, devoid of the affectionate lilt she craved. "It's nice, Tuk. Put it with the others."
Her face fell, the joy draining like water from a punctured gourd, her ears drooping as she clutched the beads closer to her chest. She lingered for a beat, searching his profile, hoping for the brother who would scoop her up and declare it the finest gift Eywa ever bestowed. But he turned away, eyes fixed on the blade's gleaming surface, and she scampered off, shoulders slumped, the weave trailing forgotten in her wake.
The once-loving brother and son had hollowed into a shell, his movements efficient but soulless as if the essence that bound him to family and clan had been leeched away. All because of you, your escape a silent verdict on his delusions, a rejection that echoed in the empty spaces of his nights.
He threw himself into duties with relentless fervor. Leading patrols along the outer borders, training young warriors in the art of silent strikes, overseeing the weaving of new nets for the ikran handlers. His body moved with the grace of a predator, but his mind was a fortress, walled against reminiscence of you.
He avoided the routes where fate had first tangled your paths, the shadowed glades where Mangkwan raids had brushed too close to Omatikaya lands. No longer did he linger at the river's bend, where the water ran swift and clear, its banks lined with ferns that whispered secrets to the wind. Those places, once alive with the thrill of pursuit and stolen glances with you, now held only ghosts. He charted new paths, deeper into the heart of the forest, where the air grew thicker with the scent of moss and blooming nightflowers, forcing his focus to the tangible such as the snap of a branch underfoot or the distant roar of a thanator claiming territory.
Jake and Neytiri watched from afar, their concern a quiet storm brewing in stolen moments by their marui.
Jake's brow furrowed as he cleaned his rifle, a human relic he rarely touched these days, his massive frame leaning against a post, eyes tracking Neteyam's solitary figure vanishing into the treeline. The change had been stark, a full revolution from the son who joked with Lo'ak over shared kills to this impassive sentinel. It started after Varang's assault, the explosions that had torn through the night like Eywa's judgment, and though the Mangkwan leader had retreated with her forces, the aftermath lingered in Neteyam's silence.
"He's not himself." Jake murmured one evening, his voice rough with worry, arms crossed over his broad chest and the lines around his eyes deepening as he gazed at Neytiri.
Neytiri nodded, her braids swaying as she stirred a pot of herbal stew, the steam rising in fragrant curls that carried notes of healing roots. Her golden eyes, sharp and knowing, held a mother's intuition, tracing the invisible threads connecting her son's withdrawal to the captive who had slipped away.
"I think it is the Mangkwan tsakarem." She said, conviction lacing her tone, her tail curling thoughtfully around her ankle, fingers pausing on the wooden spoon as a memory of your face surfaced. "I believe she has woven herself into his thoughts. The attack... it freed her but it broke something in him."
Jake sighed, rubbing a hand over his braided mohawk, the weight of leadership pressing on him as surely as the humid air. They had suspected as much, the way Neteyam's gaze had lingered on the empty marui, the subtle flinch at mentions of Mangkwan scouts. But pushing him now, with the mantle of Olo'eyktan looming in a year's shadow, would only drive the fracture deeper.
"Let him be." He decided, voice resolute yet tinged with reluctance as be stood to clasp her shoulder, his callused palm warm against her skin. "He'll find his way. Duty will anchor him."
Alayni, meanwhile, bloomed in the vacuum of his detachment, her happiness a radiant veil masking the shadows of her deeds.
Two weeks until the mating ceremony and the village buzzed with preparations of fresh flowers woven into garlands and chants rehearsed under the great tree's glow. No one knew of her betrayal, the whispered coordinates she had passed to Varang's men, the calculated risk that had invited chaos to claim you and clear her path. To the clan, she was the dutiful future tsahik, her shy smiles and gentle hands a perfect counterpoint to Neteyam's stoic resolve.
She walked beside him now on a routine patrol, her steps light and synchronized with his longer strides, the sway of her hips accentuated by the fitted loincloth that hugged her slender curves. The sun filtered through the canopy in dappled patterns, gilding her azure skin and highlighting the subtle bioluminescent freckles dusting her collarbone. Alayni glanced up at him often, her dark eyes alight with unspoken triumph as a soft giggle escaped her lips, brushing a leaf from his arm, fingers lingering on the firm swell of his bicep.
"The forest feels peaceful today, doesn't it, Neteyam? Like Eywa is blessing our union already."
He nodded absently, his gaze fixed ahead on the winding path, the play of light and shadow across his chiseled features unchanging.
Accompanying her was duty, escorting his future mate through the clan's territories, ensuring her safety amid lingering threats from rival clans. His hand rested on his knife hilt, posture alert, the lean lines of his torso shifting with each measured step, sweat beading along the ridge of his spine from the midday heat. To him, it was rote, a task etched into the rhythm of leadership, devoid of the spark that had once ignited at your proximity.
But to Alayni, every moment was victory incarnate.
She had won, the enemy tsakarem fled, the obstacles in her way shattered, and soon his kuru would bond with hers under the eyes of the clan. Her heart raced with giddy elation, a flush warming her cheeks as she imagined the ceremony. His strong hands on her waist, the tsaheylu sealing their fates. She linked her arm through his pressing closer, the soft press of her breast against his side a deliberate intimacy, voice breathy with feigned shyness yet her eyes gleamed with possessive delight.
"I can't wait for the weaving of our kurus. It'll be perfect, won't it? Just us, forever."
Neteyam murmured agreement, the words automatic as his mind was elsewhere, on maps of patrol routes or on the warriors awaiting his command.
He tried with iron will to banish thoughts of you from the recesses of his soul. He would be Olo'eyktan soon, the weight of the clan on his shoulders, mated to Alayni in a union forged for stability and strength. There was no space for yearning, no indulgence for a ghost who had recoiled from his touch, who had fled at the first chance, eyes cold with disgust rather than desire. You hadn't loved him, your responses had been chains of circumstance, feigned to survive the cage of captivity.
The realization was a blade at his chest, twisting deeper with each suppressed memory.
Yet, in the quiet hours when the village slumbered and the stars wheeled overhead, your image weaseled in unbidden. He would lie on his mat, the thatch roof above him a barrier against the night's whispers but sleep evaded him. Visions assailed of the arch of your neck as you tilted your head in defiance, the silken glide of your skin under his fingertips during those stolen intimacies, the reluctant parting of your lips that he had mistaken for surrender. An ache bloomed in his chest like thorns embedding in its flesh, a hollow throb that echoed the void you had left.
He clenched his fists, nails biting into palms, forcing his breath steady as his eyes squeezed shut, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he willed the phantom away.
Duty. Clan. Future.
The mantra repeated, a shield against the erosion but the cracks persisted, widening with every heartbeat of his.
In the days that followed, the preparations intensified. Alayni flitted about with renewed purpose, her laughter ringing clearer as she helped Neytiri select ceremonial beads, her fingers deftly sorting the vibrant strands. Neteyam joined when required, his presence a steady anchor amid the festivities, but his smiles were rare, reserved for elders and children who demanded them.
Jake pulled him aside once, during a strategy session by the war council, his father's hand heavy on his shoulder voice gruff with concern, eyes searching his son's face for the boy he remembered. "Son, whatever haunts you, face it. Don't let it consume the leader you're becoming."
Neteyam met his gaze evenly, the golden depths unyielding as his shoulders squared with a nod crisp and final. "It's handled, sir. The clan comes first."
But as he walked away, the forest closing around him like a living shroud, the ache resurfaced again as a persistent whisper of what might have been, tangled forever in the undergrowth of his resolve.
Hours went by, the eclipse had long since painted the sky in deep indigo, the bioluminescent vines along the village platforms casting a soft ethereal glow that did little to ease the knot of worry twisting in Neytiri's chest.
She lay beside Jake in their marui, the rhythmic rise and fall of his broad back a testament to the exhaustion of leadership, his braided kuru draped loosely over the woven mat. But sleep eluded her, her golden eyes flicking toward the entrance flap, where the night sounds of Pandora filtered in.
Neteyam was late, far past the hour warriors returned from solitary vigils or patrols. Her eldest, the pillar of their family, had become a ghost in his own home, his steps silent and his words fewer than the stars above.
With a quiet resolve, she rose, her lithe form unfolding gracefully, the faint scars from old battles tracing faint lines along her arms like maps of survival. She draped a light shawl over her shoulders, the fabric whispering against her azure skin, and slipped out into the cooling air. The village slumbered, maruis dimly lit by inner fires, but her hunter's instincts guided her toward the outer platforms, where the great tree's roots intertwined with the earth.
There, perched on a low branch overlooking the valley, she found him. Neteyam with his back to her, broad shoulders slumped under the weight of invisible burdens. He stared upward, the starlight reflecting in the wet trails of tears carving paths down his cheeks, his golden eyes distant and shattered.
Her heart clenched like a fist around a thorn, a sharp ache blooming as she witnessed tears streaming freely from the face of her unbreakable son. In all her years, through battles and losses, she had never seen him cry. Not as a fierce young warrior facing his first hunt, not even when Kiri's visions had shaken the family to its core. These past weeks, he had been a hollow vessel, his laughter silenced, his touch withdrawn, but this vulnerability cracked the shell wide open, exposing the raw wound beneath.
She approached softly, her bare feet padding against the mossy wood, and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pulling his solid frame against her chest.
"My son." She murmured, her voice a gentle caress laced with sorrow, her chin resting on his shoulder, braids brushing his ear as she held him close. "What ails you? Speak to your sa'nok."
Neteyam sighed, a heavy exhale that carried the weight of unspoken tempests, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He leaned into her embrace, the tension in his neck easing fractionally, but words remained locked behind clenched teeth.
How could she understand?
The gravity of his love for you, a Mangkwan woman, an enemy incarnate had pulled at him like an undertow, drowning his sense of self. Each day chipped away at his resolve, the choice between duty to clan and the selfish pull of his heart a torment that left him adrift. He was losing pieces of himself in the effort to bury the ache, to forge ahead as the future Olo'eyktan.
"I am tired." He finally whispered, his voice cracking as he wiped at his face with the back of his hand, the muscles in his jaw flexing as fresh tears welled. "I cannot do this anymore, Mom. The weight... it's crushing me."
Neytiri's heart fractured further at his confession, the raw despair in his tone echoing the cries of a wounded ikran. She tightened her hold, her arms encircling his torso, fingers splaying across the firm planes of his abdomen as if to anchor him to the world.
She had suspected for weeks that this shadow over him stemmed from you, the woman who had been his captive, the one whose escape had coincided with his unraveling. Whispers of your name in council meetings, the way his gaze sharpened at mentions of Mangkwan movements, it all pointed to a bond forged in secrecy and strife. But she said nothing, offering only the silent strength of her presence, her tail curling protectively around his leg. In the quiet, she sent a fervent prayer to Eywa, her mind weaving pleas through the neural network of the land.
Great Mother, guide my son through this storm. There must be purpose in his pain, a path unseen amid the chaos.
The night deepened around them, mother and son entwined in shared silence, until exhaustion finally claimed him, his head lolling against her shoulder. Neytiri guided him back to the marui, her steps steady despite the turmoil churning within.
Soon, dawn broke with the first calls of prolemuris swinging through the canopy, painting the forest in hues of gold and green. Neteyam rose with the sun, his face a mask once more, his eyes hooded and expression schooled into impassive resolve.
Today, duty demanded he scout the eastern fringes, perilously close to the glades where he had first glimpsed you weeks ago, your form a vision of lethal grace amid the raid's fury. He had avoided those paths like a festering wound but intelligence from outriders reported Mangkwan activity stirring anew and evasion was no longer an option.
He joined Jake and Neytiri at the ikran roost, along with a cadre of warriors.
Neytiri watched him from afar as he checked his bowstring, the morning light catching the subtle sheen of sweat on his brow from the humid air. Memories of the previous night flooded her, the vulnerability in his tears, the plea in his voice and now, seeing him revert to this emotionless sentinel, her worry deepened like roots delving into soil. His movements were precise and efficient but there was no spark, no anticipation in his posture.
Alayni hovered at the periphery, her presence a flutter of nervous energy amid the preparations. She had risen early, her cheeks flushed with the thrill of impending union, and now she approached Neteyam with a sway in her step, the beads of her top clinking softly. Without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his cheek, the kiss lingering a beat too long, her hand brushing the curve of his arm, voice soft and adoring, eyes sparkling with feigned innocence as she pulled back slightly.
"Stay safe, Neteyam. Come back to me whole."
He nodded, the motion mechanical, his golden eyes sliding past her without warmth, fixed instead on the horizon.
Neytiri observed the exchange, her tail flicking in subtle disapproval, the contrast between Alayni's eagerness and her son's detachment a stark reminder of the fractures in his spirit and the duty they had handed to him.
The group saddled their ikrans, the massive creatures rumbling with impatience, wings unfurling like sails in the breeze. Neteyam mounted with fluid ease, his thighs gripping the creature's sides, the bond forming through their queues in a pulse of shared intent. With a collective cry, they ascended, the wind whipping through braids and loincloths as the forest shrank below, giving way to the vast expanse of floating mountains and vine-draped cliffs.
The skies were clear at first, the patrol weaving through thermal updrafts, Jake leading with hand signals sharp and commanding.
But peace shattered like fragile crystal, an ambush erupting from the clouds and the forest below, Mangkwan warriors on their own direhorses and winged mounts descending in a hail of fire-arrows and poisoned barbs. Flames licked at the air, ignited by incendiary tips, while the sharp whistle of shafts cut through the roar of wings.
Neytiri and Jake unleashed war cries that echoed across the valleys, primal and fierce, their ikrans diving into the fray. Neteyam clenched his teeth, the familiar surge of battle adrenaline sharpening his senses, but beneath it thrummed a deeper tension, his heart pounding not just from the clash, but from the scan of faces below, searching for yours amid the chaos.
No sign of you and the absence twisted like a knife at him. Disappointment that you weren't there for him to see once more and yet relief that you remained untouched by this violence.
He urged his ikran higher, bow drawn in a blur, arrows flying true to fell two attackers in mid-air, their bodies plummeting with guttural cries.
On the ground, Neytiri broke from the aerial skirmish, her ikran landing with a thud amid the underbrush as she spotted Varang, her form a whirlwind of aggression with war paint streaking her face in crimson patterns.
They clashed blades, Neytiri's movements a dance of lethal precision, her body twisting to evade a swipe snarling with protective fury, eyes blazing as she parried, the clash of metal ringing like thunder. Jake and the other warriors followed suit, dropping to engage the Mangkwan foot soldiers, the forest erupting into a symphony of grunts, screams, and the sizzle of flames devouring foliage.
Neteyam circled above, his ikran banking sharply to loose another volley, the wind tearing at his queue as he targeted a rider closing on Kiri's position.
It was going well, the Omatikaya numbers swelling as reinforcements crested a ridge until a shadow flickered in his periphery. An arrow, swift and unerring, punched into his chest just below the collarbone, the impact a searing bloom of agony that stole his breath. His grip faltered, the bow slipping from numb fingers, and he tumbled from his ikran, the world spinning in a vortex of sky and green.
Neytiri gasped, her head snapping upward mid-fight, horror etching her features as she saw her son plummeting as a dark silhouette against the sun. Jake's roar joined hers, raw and desperate as his face contorted in dread, fists clenching around his knife as he shouted orders to cover.
Neteyam fell far, the ground rushing up mercilessly as his body slammed into the earth with a sickening thud, head bouncing against a root, his vision exploding in stars before blackness edged in.
"Neteyam!" Neytiri's scream tore from her throat, a mother's anguish that pierced the din of battle.
The spot where he fell into was an inferno's cradle, flames from stray arrows encircling the clearing, vines crackling and popping as they fed the blaze. Smoke billowed thick and acrid and without intervention, the fire would claim him, his labored breaths already ragged from the embedded shaft and the impact of the fall.
You arrived on the fringes of the skirmish, the scene unfolding like a nightmare etched in firelight. Your eyes widened at the sight, Neteyam crumpled amid the chaos, his chest heaving around the protruding arrow, blood staining the azure expanse of his torso in rivulets that soaked his harness. Your heart clenched as a vise of unwelcomed emotion squeezed it tight, the pulse of it echoing in your ears over the clash of weapons. Torn, you gripped your bow tighter, gaze flicking to your sister locked in combat with Neytiri then to your warriors pressing the attack.
Aid them, your people and your blood or the enemy who had haunted your thoughts, his touch a ghost that lingered in fevered dreams?
He's the enemy. Let him burn, let the flames erase the complication he brought to my life.
You turned your back, the wind catching the loose strands of your braids, whipping them across your face like accusations. But your body halted, muscles locking as if Eywa herself rooted you in place.
You couldn'tâwouldn'tâleave him to this end.
The weight of what passed between you, the tangled web of resentment and reluctant pull, demanded closure. This would be the last, a one final act to sever the thread, to walk away unburdened. With a curse under your breath, you ran to him, your legs carrying you through the underbrush.
The heat battered you as you reached the flames' edge, the air shimmering with intensity but you plunged in, hauling his weighty form by the arms. His body was heavy, limp yet solid, shoulders broad and unyielding even in unconsciousness, the corded strength of his arms dragging across the scorched earth.
You pulled him free, grunting with effort, the muscles in your back flexing under the strain. Laying him on clearer ground, you assessed the damage. The arrow jutting from his chest, fletching charred at the edges, blood pulsing steadily from the wound, soaking the ground in dark pools.
You bit your lip, the sharp sting grounding you as concern warred with caution.
The severity was dire, his pulse thready under your probing fingers. But you were not just a mere warrior, you were also a healer and a tsakarem, healing coursed through your veins like the forest's lifeblood even with the violence in your being.
Kneeling beside him, your hands moved with practiced urgency, pressing woven leaves from your pouch against the entry to staunch the flow, murmuring ancient invocations to Eywa for mercy. The herbs' bitter scent mingled with the metallic tang of blood, your fingers smeared crimson as you worked, the curve of your neck arching forward in concentration, eyes fierce with determination.
Varang spotted you from across the fray, her snarl twisting her features mid-clash with Neytiri, eyes narrowing in disbelief and fury voice booming over the din, laced with betrayal as she parried a strike. "(Y/N)! What are you doing? Come, we have to leave!"
Neytiri, locked in the duel, glanced toward the sound, her gaze landing on you bent over her son, a flicker of stunned gratitude warring with the battle's rage in her.
More Omatikaya warriors surged forward, tipping the scales, forcing the Mangkwan to retreat.
You didn't turn, didn't acknowledge the call. Your focus absolute, hands pressing firmly to seal the wound, willing his life to hold.
Varang shot you one last glare, venomous and pained, before snarling at Neytiri with a guttural promise of unfinished business and then she signaled the fall back. Her warriors melted into the trees, their forms thundering away, leaving the air thick with smoke and the echo of conflict.
Your focus narrowed to the rise and fall of Neteyam's chest, each shallow breath a fragile tether to life, the arrow's shaft now crudely bound but the wound beneath pulsing with insistent threat. Sweat beaded along your temple, tracing a cool path down the arch of your cheekbone, your eyes locked on his face, the sharp angles softened in unconsciousness, the full curve of his lips parted as if in silent plea.
You didn't notice the delicate swirl of an atokirina, that ethereal seed of Eywa, drifting lazily on an unseen current, hovering above you both like a benediction unspoken.
Neytiri saw it, though. Her golden gaze catching the pale spinner as it lingered, a luminous point against the hazy sky, before floating onward. Her breath hitched, a profound shiver rippling through her frame, her shoulders seeming to pulse in quiet awe.
Eywa's will.
She broke from the fray with Jake at her side, their footfalls urgent through the trampled ferns, weapons still gripped tight but lowered in the face of this revelation.
You sensed their approach before you saw them, the rustle of leaves and the heavy cadence of warrior steps pulling your attention. Instinct flared of enemies closing in and you hissed low, a feral sound vibrating from your throat as you shifted away from Neteyam, your body coiling like a viper ready to strike. Your tail lashed behind you, the tip slicing the air with agitation, while your fingers twitched toward the knife at your hip, the leather sheath warm against your hip bone.
They were still foes, the Omatikaya who had chained you and humiliated you and you'd meet them with fangs bared, your toned legs braced against the earth, ready to spring.
Jake opened his mouth, his broad jaw setting with the intent to command, but Neytiri's voice cut through first, steady and resonant, her eyes fierce yet softened by gratitude, one hand extended palm-up in a gesture of uneasy truce. "You will come with us."
He paused, confusion flickering across his scarred features, but he moved without protest, kneeling to gather Neteyam's limp form. The future leader's weight sagged in his father's arms, head lolling against Jake's shoulder, the azure skin of his neck exposed in vulnerable slackness.
Other warriors converged, their ikrans circling low with throaty calls, assisting as Jake hoisted Neteyam toward the nearest mount, muscles bulging under the strain along his arms and back, the harness straps digging into his flesh.
You snarled at Neytiri, the sound raw and defiant, your tail flicking sharper now, brushing against the back of your calves as your fangs glinted in the dappled light. Your posture was rigid with suspicion as you rose to your full height, the beaded strands of your top shifting with the heave of your chest. "I will not be your captive again. Touch me and I'll carve my freedom from your hides."
Neytiri regarded you, her own tail curling thoughtfully at her side, the fire in your eyes mirroring the unyielding spark she knew from her own youth, the same blaze that had drawn Jake to her across clan lines.
Mercy stirred in her chest, unbidden and perplexing. Was it the debt of your aid to her son or the atokirina's silent sign that compelled her?
She straightened, her silhouette cutting a commanding figure against the fading smoke, voice firm and laced with an undercurrent of respect as she turned toward her ikran. "You will not be captive. You saved him, pulled him from Eywa's grasp. I believe the Great Mother has plans. Come, you waste time."
Suspicion coiled tight in your gut, a serpent ready to strike, yet beneath it hummed an inexplicable pull. A whisper urging yes, born of exhaustion, of the chaos you'd wrought by choosing him over your kin.
You hissed once more, baring your fangs in a final warning as your lips curled back, the sharp points catching the light as your ears flattened against your skull. "Lie to me and I will not hesitate to draw my blade even if it means my end."
She met your gaze without flinching, recognizing the kindred fire, the warrior's unbreaking will. With a nod, she mounted her ikran, the bond queue connecting in a soft neural sigh, wings unfurling with a leathery snap.
You approached cautiously, every sense alert. The warmth of the creature's hide under your palms as you swung up behind her, your thighs clamping around its sides, the curve of your hips settling against Neytiri's back. The ascent was swift, wind tearing at your braids, carrying the scent of singed earth and distant rain as the group soared towards their home.
The village emerged like a living tapestry below.
Jake dismounted first upon landing, Neteyam's body cradled securely in his arms, the young warrior's limbs dangling limply, blood crusting along the wound's edges. He ran toward Mo'at's healing marui, feet pounding the woven platforms, Neytiri and you following at a urgent pace.
Eyes turned as you passed, Omatikaya faces hardening at the sight of your Mangkwan markings, the ash remnants of war paint streaking your arms and thighs, whispers rippling like wind through reeds. You ignored them, chin lifted defiantly, your strides long and purposeful, the sway of your hips fluid despite the knot of unease in your belly.
Inside the marui, the air hung thick with the aroma of medicinal pastes and smoldering herbs, shelves lined with jars of glowing extracts. Mo'at moved with ancient grace, her wrinkled skin etched with the wisdom of seasons, drawing Neteyam onto a low pallet woven from supple vines. Her hands, gnarled yet precise, peeled back the hasty bandages you'd applied, assessing the damage with a cluck of her tongue as her eyes narrowed in concentration, fingers probing the inflamed flesh around the arrow's path.
You shifted uncomfortably near the entrance, arms crossed over your chest, the soft swell of your breasts pressing against the crossed forearms, your bare midriff taut with tension.
What madness had brought you here, into the heart of enmity? Why save this man, the one whispered to be bound to another in mating rites, his future woven without you?
Once assured of his survival, you'd slip away, beg for Varang's mercy, atone for the betrayal etched in your choice to heal, to drag him from flames.
Neytiri noticed the storm brewing in your eyes, the way your shoulders hunched slightly under invisible weight. She guided you to a woven mat beside her, her touch light on your elbow as she settled cross-legged.
"Sit. The weight you carry shows in your eyes."
Jake hovered nearby, his confusion etched in the furrow of his brow, arms still bearing faint smears of his son's blood as he glanced between you and Neytiri, tone edged with bewilderment. "Neytiri, why bring her? She's Mangkwan, an enemy blood in our home."
Mo'at's voice rose then, steady and authoritative, cutting the tension as she worked a poultice into the wound her movements rhythmic, the paste's earthy scent filling the space. "He is in critical condition. The arrow pierced deep, nicking the lung's edge. Without the temporary aid to stem the bleeding, he would have crossed to Eywa's embrace already."
Both parents turned to you, realization dawning as Neytiri's gaze held quiet thanks, Jake's a grudging respect.
"And the head trauma is severe, his skull bruised from the fall so visions may haunt him upon waking. He will recover but stress must be barred from his path. No extremes of anger or despair, lest the balance tip and fracture his spirit. Do not put him in situations where he will experience such."
Jake and Neytiri nodded solemnly, Jake's hand squeezing his mate's shoulder, resolve hardening his features. "We'll guard him like the tree itself."
You sat quietly, the breath easing from your lungs in a slow sigh of relief, your fingers unclenching from where they'd dug into your palms, leaving crescent marks on the soft pads.
He would live, the man whose golden eyes had pierced your defenses, whose touch lingered like a forbidden echo.
Neytiri looked at you then, not through the lens of a deadly warrior but as a mother whose heart swelled with gratitude, her expression softening, the lines around her eyes crinkling with unspoken emotion. "You have our thanks. Your hands brought him back to us."
Rising, you met her gaze steadily, your voice even despite the turmoil tail curling loosely at your feet, posture straightening with resolve. "He breathes. My part is done. I will leave now before your people remembers what I am."
She shook her head gently as her braids swayed, tone insistent yet kind, a hand gesturing to the marui's depths. "Stay the night. The forest paths grow treacherous after battle and dawn will light your way clearer. Tomorrow, go with Eywa's guidance."
Hesitation gripped you as visions of Varang's wrath flashed along with her snarl of betrayal but the offer Neytiri gave bought time, a buffer against the storm you'd unleashed. You nodded curtly, the motion causing a loose braid to slip over your shoulder, brushing the gentle slope of your collarbone.
Mo'at interjected, her voice carrying the weight of authority as she pointed to a partitioned alcove, the entrance draped in soft kelp weaves. "There is space in the marui for you. Rest there, no harm under this roof will fall upon you."
You inclined your head uncomfortably, the unfamiliar kindness chafing like ill-fitted armor, and retreated to the indicated area.
The partition muffled the outer sounds, but voices filtered in with familiar cadences of concern, perhaps Neteyam's siblings clustering with worried murmurs or that scheming Alayni's honeyed tones probing for weakness.
You sighed deeply, sinking onto the low sleeping platform, the woven fibers cool against your skin. Gazing at your hands, still faintly stained with his blood and nails chipped from the frantic extraction, you felt the weight crash down.
What have I done?
Varang's face loomed in your mind, her loyalty unyielding and yet you betrayed her, your blood for him. A traitor in your own eyes, cast adrift by a mercy you couldn't explain, the contours of your form curling inward as doubt gnawed at your thoughts.
The first light of dawn filtered through the woven walls of the marui, casting a soft glow that danced across the kelp partitions like whispers from the great tree itself.
You stirred from a fitful sleep, the platform beneath you cradling the subtle curves of your body with its resilient fibers, though no true rest had really come.
The air hummed with distant murmurs, low voices laced with concern, the rustle of movements that spoke of vigil. Neteyam's family, no doubt, gathered in their quiet desperation.
Your eyelids fluttered open, eyes adjusting to the dim interior, a stray lock of ebony hair falling across your forehead, brushing the high plane of your cheek as you sat up. The faint ache in your muscles from the previous day's chaos lingered, a reminder of the flames you'd pulled him from, your frame still bearing the subtle smudges of ash along your arms and the line of your neck.
Pushing aside the drape with a steady hand, you stepped into the main chamber, the cool floor mats yielding under your bare feet, toes curling slightly against the texture. There they were, clustered around Neteyam's pallet. Neytiri's poised form kneeling closest, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his azure skin, while Jake stood sentinel nearby, his broad shoulders tense.
The siblings hovered at the edges, Tuk's small hands fidgeting with a beaded string, Lo'ak's jaw set in watchful silence, and Kiri sitting to the side with a faraway look.
You remembered them from his stories when he was pestering you and you remembered how you tried so hard to tune him out as you rolled your eyes.
Neteyam's chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, his features serene in repose, full lips slightly parted as if dreaming of battles yet unfought.
Your gaze locked with Neytiri's across the space, her golden eyes holding a depth of unspoken understanding, the faint lines at their corners deepening as she rose fluidly. The others' stares prickled your skin. They were curious and wary, the weight of enmity pressing like unseen hands, save for Jake whose attention remained fixed on his son, oblivious or perhaps deliberately so.
You held your ground, chin lifting subtly, the soft undulation of your torso accentuated by the morning light as it played over the beaded strands draping your chest.
Her voice emerged, a hand extending in quiet invitation as she closed the distance, the warmth of her presence cutting through the chill of suspicion. "Are you about to head out? The paths await but let me see you safely beyond our borders."
You nodded once, the motion causing your braids to shift, one grazing the delicate hollow of your throat.
Before words could form, her fingers encircled your wrist, firm but not forceful, the calluses of a huntress brushing your smoother skin. "Okay, I'll take you with my ikran. The skies are clearer at this hour."
Together, you moved toward the exit, your steps synchronized in wary alliance, the chamber's herbal scents fading behind you. Halfway there, Tuk's voice pierced the air like a sudden arrow, high-pitched with unbridled joy as her tiny frame bounced as she pointed, eyes wide with wonder.
"Neteyam! You're awake!"
Neytiri gasped beside you, a sharp intake that reverberated through her body, her grip tightening momentarily on your arm before releasing as she whirled, long legs carrying her back in a blur of urgency. His family converged instantly, a protective circle forming around the pallet, voices overlapping in a cacophony of relief.
Jake's baritone cut through as his hand raised in caution, posture rigid as he scanned his children's eager faces. "Easy, give him space. Let him breathe."
You didn't turn, didn't allow the pull of curiosity to drag you back.
Relief flickered in your chest that he lived, that his spirit is unbroken but seeing him now, vulnerable and surrounded by their bond, stirred too much. Your tail flicked once, a subtle lash against your calf, as you fixed your gaze on the exit, the woven flap beckoning like freedom's edge.
A groan echoed from the pallet, low and pained, followed by Neytiri's voice, thick with emotion as tears glistened on her lashes then spilling down the curve of her cheek as she cupped his face, her thumbs tracing the strong line of his jaw.
"Ma Teyam, my child, you're awake. Eywa has returned you to us."
Neteyam's first words hung in the air, raspy yet insistent, freezing you mid-step as his voice threaded confusion and longing, golden eyes blinking open to search the faces around him. "Where's my mate?"
Your heart clenched like a fist around a thorned vine, a sharp twist that stole your breath, the muscles of your back tensing beneath the thin straps of your top.
He meant her, that conniving soft-spoken healer, the one fate had chained him to.
The betrayal you'd wrought for his sake soured further, urging you toward escape, but Neytiri remained entangled in the moment, her form a barrier you couldn't breach without drawing eyes.
He spoke again, urgency sharpening his tone as he propped himself up slightly on one elbow, the defined planes of his abdomen flexing under the strain, beads of sweat gathering along his collarbone. "Where is my mate? Why is she not here? Where is (Y/N)?"
Silence crashed over the marui like a sudden storm, thick and suffocating, broken only by the faint crackle of a nearby incense burner. You couldn't believe the words echoing in your ears. Your name on his lips like a claim, a delusion born of fever or fracture. His family still shielded him, their bodies a living wall, blocking any chance of his gaze finding you.
What madness gripped him?
Jake broke the hush, his voice measured, laced with concern as he kneeled closer, one large hand resting on Neteyam's shoulder, fingers splaying across the flesh there. "Kid, what do you mean mate? Talk to me, clear your head."
Neteyam frowned, confusion etching furrows across his forehead, his ears twitching slightly as he tilted his head, the kuru at his back shifting against the pallet as he scanned the circle of faces. "Huh? She's my mate. What do you mean what do I mean, Dad? We chose each other, it is done."
Neytiri exchanged a fleeting glance with Jake, her expression a mask of reassurance as she smiled gently, though her eyes held a storm of questions as she leaned in, her braids falling forward to brush his arm. "What's the last thing you remember, Ma Teyam? Tell your sa'nok, help us understand."
He groaned again, wincing as he pressed a hand to his temple, his fingers threading through his hair as his voice faltered, piecing together fragments like scattered leaves.
"We were together in the forest... deep in the glade, away from eyes. We mated, bound our kuru. I remember the warmth of her, falling asleep in her arms... then nothing. I woke up now. Why am I here? Where is she?"
Jake's mouth parted, words forming on the edge of his tongue but Neytiri's hand clamped onto his forearm, urgent and unyielding as her nails digged lightly into his skin, a silent reminder of her mother's grave warning, her gaze flicking to the tsahik for affirmation.
No stress, no shadows to cloud his fragile recovery.
Mo'at inclined her head subtly from her perch nearby, her weathered features serene, the wisdom in her eyes underscoring the peril of truths unspoken.
However, shock rippled through you like a current, your pulse thundering in your ears, the arch of your neck flushing with heat.
What sorcery had befallen this demon blood?
The forest encounter, the stolen touches, and the heated whispers had been a fever dream of his desire, not a true bonding. Yet here he proclaimed it as reality, your name woven into his delirium.
Your fingers curled at your sides, nails biting into palms, the soft pads whitening under pressure.
Jake rose then, his frame casting a long shadow as he leaned toward Neytiri whispering low, his jaw clenched in resolve. "I'll get Norm, let him scan the boy's head, figure out what's twisted in there."
He straightened, striding past you with purposeful steps.
You shifted sideways instinctively, pressing against the wall's curve, your body folding into the shadows to evade Neteyam's searching eyes, the faint scent of his blood still clinging to your skin like a ghost.
The drape parted again, admitting Alayni in a rush of hurried grace, her form halting abruptly at the sight of you lingering near the threshold. Her face fell, features draining of color, eyes widening in a flash of alarm as her lips parted in silent accusation, her tail coiling tight behind her as panic etched sharp lines around her mouth.
What is she doing here?
The enemy in their sanctum, everyone would know her schemes, the whispers of betrayal she'd sown.
You couldn't suppress the satisfied smirk curling your lips, a predatory glint in your gaze as you savored the tremor in her composure, the way her fingers twisted the hem of her wrap.
She glared daggers, a venomous spark in her eyes, before hurrying inside voice pitched with concern, dropping to her knees beside the pallet, her hand reached out to caress his cheek, nails grazing the smooth azure expanse. "Neteyam, are you okay? We've been so worriedâ"
He recoiled at her touch, jerking back with a hiss as his body tensed, shoulders hunching as if her fingers burned, golden eyes narrowing in instinctive rejection. "Don't touch me. My mate would not like that, keep your hands to yourself."
Alayni froze, confusion clouding her features as she glanced around the circle, her posture crumbling slightly. The gentle swell of her chest heaving with rapid breaths, seeking answers in their stunned expressions. First, you're here like some honored guest, unwatched and unchained and now Neteyam denying their bond, as if the ceremonies planned for days hence meant nothing.
"What do you mean? You have no mate, Neteyam. We will be mated in several days. It's all arranged, for the clanâ"
His stare was blank and unyielding as he leaned away further, the muscles along his arms corded with tension, voice flat with conviction that brooked no argument. "I am mated, Alayni. Do not disrespect me and her by saying that. I've chosen, Eywa witnessed it."
Alayni's mouth opened for protest, words tumbling forth in a desperate rush as her hands gestured wildly but Lo'ak's fingers closed around her wrist, firm and ungentle, his grip steady as he pulled her back with a warning growl low in his throat.
"Enough, let him rest. You're making it worse."
Neytiri forced a smile then, thin and strained as she rose to her full height, her frame interposing as she pried Alayni from Lo'ak's hold, guiding her toward the entrance with a maternal hand on her shoulder.
She had once favored the girl.
Her respectful demeanor, the sweet softness that promised stability for her son, the shy affections that bloomed like night flowers. It was why she'd championed the union, envisioning harmony in their future. But now, Alayni's invasiveness grated, a threat to the delicate balance of Neteyam's healing. What she'd once seen as endearing now loomed as disruption, especially with the girl's recent clinginess fraying nerves that are already taut.
Her tone remained even, laced with polite finality as she steered Alayni through the drape, the fabric whispering against their forms. "Go now, child, rest and prepare for the day's duties. He'll need quiet to mend, we'll call when he's stronger."
Alayni resisted briefly, a flicker of indignation in her eyes, but Neytiri's unyielding gaze quelled it. As she was ushered out, you caught her eye from behind Neytiri's shoulder, your smirk deepening into something triumphant as your lips curved wickedly, the sharp tips of your fangs peeking as you watched her retreat.
Stupid bitch, starting to pay her karma.
The satisfaction bloomed warm in your chest, a counter to the earlier ache at the unraveling the web she'd spun.
The marui's air thickened with the scent of medicinal herbs and lingering tension as footsteps approached from beyond the drape. The flap parted with a soft rustle, admitting Jake first followed by a figure that made your eyes narrow in instinctive distrust.
He was another of those sky people avatars, shorter and bulkier than the Na'vi around him, with blue skin stretched over an unfamiliar musculature, his movements jerky and mechanical as he hauled a satchel bulging with strange, gleaming devices. In your eyes, he was just another demon in disguise, his eyes too round and probing behind a mask of false familiarity.
Neteyam's family parted slightly to allow them access, his golden gaze widening in confusion propping himself up on his elbows despite the wince that tugged at his full lips, the cords of his neck straining as he tilted his head.
"Dad? Norm? What's all this?" His voice carried a mix of bewilderment and faint alarm, the sharp angles of his shoulders tensing beneath the thin covering draped over his torso.
Jake placed a reassuring hand on his son's arm, the gesture firm yet gentle. "Just a check-up, son. Norm here's gonna make sure everything's healing right, no big deal."
Norm nodded efficiently, unpacking his tools with practiced haste. A handheld scanner humming to life, its blue light flickering like captured bioluminescence, and thin probes that beeped softly as they connected to Neteyam's temple and chest. The warrior submitted with reluctant patience, his ears flicking at each unfamiliar sensation as his chest rose and fell in shallow rhythms, the bandaged expanse over his ribs shifting with each breath.
You remained unseen, a ghost in the periphery, gratitude coiling in your gut that he hadn't glimpsed you yet, sparing you the complication of his fractured gaze.
The assessment dragged on, Norm murmuring readings under his breath, Jake hovering like a sentinel. Finally, they withdrew, the group filing out into the humid morning air. Norm repacking his gear with a satisfied grunt, Mo'at gliding behind with her staff tapping rhythmically, Neytiri close at her heel, her posture a blend of maternal poise and veiled anxiety.
Curiosity tugged at you drawing your steps toward the exit despite the risk. You hovered just inside, the soft swell of your hips swaying faintly as you strained to catch their words, the faint breeze carrying snippets through the kelp weave.
Norm's voice filtered back, clinical and detached gesturing vaguely at the air as if diagramming an invisible wound.
"Selective amnesia, most likely from the trauma to his skull. Concussions like that can scramble memories, make him fill in gaps with what his mind wants to believe. It'll probably clear up with rest but no pushing him. Avoid contradictions, let it fade naturally."
Mo'at's response came sharp and authoritative, her aged frame straightening one hand raised in admonition. "Precisely. No stress, Jake Sully. His spirit is fragile as fresh-woven thread, negative winds could unravel it further."
Jake glanced over his shoulder then, his eyes locking onto yours through the partial drape.
You met his stare blankly, your expression a mask of cool indifference, the line of your jaw set firm, lashes casting shadows over your irises.
He sighed heavily, the sound rumbling from his chest like distant thunder as he rubbed a hand over his hair before nodding to Mo'at. "Understood. Thanks, Norm. Appreciate you coming out here on short notice."
He clapped the avatar on the back, steering him toward the path, their forms receding into the foliage.
Mo'at turned fully to you then, her wrinkled features softening into a knowing smile as she extended a gnarled hand in gentle summons, the beads on her bracelets clinking softly. "Come, child. He searches for you. Eywa's threads bind him still even in confusion."
Hesitation rooted you for a beat, your bare feet shifting against the mat, toes flexing into the fibers as doubt warred with obligation. But you moved forward, weaving through the siblings' loose circle, your presence rippling the air like a stone in still water. Neytiri observed from the side, her arms crossed over her chest, the arch of her back rigid with unspoken calculations.
Neteyam's eyes ignited at the sight of you, a spark of pure recognition and warmth flooding their golden depths as his face brightened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a boyish smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes. "Baby, where have you been? I've been calling for you. Come here, let me see you."
Words failed you, caught in the tangle of your throat like thorns. Your pulse quickened, the delicate skin at your wrists flushing as you glanced desperately at Neytiri. She stepped in seamlessly, her voice a soothing murmur kneeling beside him. "She was just helping Mo'at with some herbs, Ma Teyam. Nothing to worry over. You're safe now, all of us here."
He nodded absently, already shifting to rise as his elbows dug into the padding, his torso twisting with intent, the play of muscles along his flanks evident even through the strain. But a sharp hiss escaped him as pain lanced through his chest. He glanced down, fingers probing the white bandages wrapped taut around his ribs, tracing the edges where faint bloodstains bloomed, his brow furrowing in dawning alarm.
"What happened? Why am I... like this?"
Neytiri's response flowed quick and fabricated, her tail flicking once in reassurance as she pressed him back gently, palms flat against his shoulders. "A minor fall during a hunt, nothing more. You're mending well but rest is key. No straining this body of yours."
Lo'ak chimed in from his perch nearby, his tone laced with concern as he leaned forward, one hand hovering as if ready to steady him. "Yeah bro, don't push it. You've been out cold, give yourself a break."
Tuk, unable to contain her awe any longer, stared up at you with unabashed wonder, her small fingers twisting in her lap, round cheeks dimpling as she beamed, the innocence in her voice cutting through the heaviness.
"You're pretty like the glowing vines at night."
Neteyam caught the words, his grin widening into something radiant and possessive as he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest despite the wince it provoked, his gaze raking over you with unabashed adoration. "She is, isn't she? Eywa blessed me beyond measure with the most beautiful woman as my mate."
Heat bloomed across your cheeks, a traitorous warmth that clashed with the snarl building in your chest. Your fangs ached to bare but Neytiri's sharp glance pinned you, her eyes narrowing imperceptibly, a silent command as she rose.
"I'll speak with her first, important matters."
She drew you aside into a quieter nook, the privacy of the woven screen shielding your exchange, her sigh heavy with exhaustion as her shoulders slumped slightly, the taper of her ears drooping as she met your eyes. "Please, play along just until his memories return. It's a delicate weave we're threading here."
A hiss bubbled up, low and frustrated, your claws flexing at your sides, a flicker of resentment darkening your features.
This wasn't the plan. It was only saving him from the flames and slipping away into the wilds. But now pretending this farce of a bond?
It deepened the chasm with Varang, a blade twisted further into your sister's trust, your loyalty fracturing like dry earth under storm.
Yet you exhaled sharply, the breath stirring the beads at your throat. "Just for today then I'll leave. I've lingered too long already, debts are paid."
Gratitude softened Neytiri's gaze, her hand squeezing your forearm in quiet alliance. "Thank you. Eywa sees your heart."
Eywa, their false goddess.
You refrained from speaking it and returned to the pallet together, his siblings' eyes tracking your approach.
Mo'at interjected then, her voice carrying the weight of authority as she gestured toward the exit with her staff, the carved wood glinting. "He may leave the healing hut now. Rest in your family marui where care is close."
Neteyam's confusion creased his forehead anew as he tilted his head, his kuru swaying as he pushed to sit fully, ignoring the twinge in his side. "Why the family marui? I have our own, shared with my mate. That's where I belong, with her."
Neytiri froze for a heartbeat then mustered a feigned grin, her lips curving upward in playful conspiracy, though tension lined her jaw. "Oh yes, of course you can sleep there. Silly of us to forget."
Relief lit Neteyam's face, a grin splitting wide as he eased to his feet with Lo'ak's support, his brother's arm slung around his waist, the lean power of his legs steadying as he leaned into the aid.
You walked in silence beside Neytiri, your steps measured, the sway of your form guarded against his occasional glances.
She guided the group to a nearby empty marui, its entrance framed by dangling vines that swayed like welcoming tendrils, the interior sparse but inviting with a low cot piled with fresh furs.
"I'll bring your things later." Neytiri explained smoothly as she waved a hand at the empty space, her posture relaxed in fabrication. "You forgot them before, rushing off to tend to (Y/N). Always so devoted."
Neteyam nodded, his attention fixed on you. Golden eyes tracing the cascade of your braids down your back, the subtle glow of your skin under the filtered light, though you kept your gaze averted, fixed on the horizon.
Kiri approached then, her touch feather-light on your arm in a soft pat, wordless solidarity in her empathetic eyes before she stepped back.
Tuk waved enthusiastically as she bounced on her toes, her laughter bubbling. "Bye! Take care of him, he's grumpy when hurt!"
Lo'ak gave a curt nod and Neytiri mirroring it with a final meaningful look before they departed, leaving the marui's quiet to envelop you.
You lingered at the entrance, the woven threshold framing your silhouette, arms crossed over the gentle rise of your chest as Neteyam settled onto the cot, his form reclining against the bolsters, long legs stretching out, the bandage peeking from beneath his wrap as he watched you expectantly.
"Baby, what are you doing all the way over there? Come here. I've missed you too much already."
You restrained the urge to roll your eyes, the old grudge simmering within you. Alayni's shadow, the secrets he'd buried back then, it fueled a quiet fury that tightened your lips. With deliberate slowness, you crossed the space, perching on the cot's edge at a careful distance, the furs dipping under your weight, your thighs pressing together in restrained tension.
He frowned at the gap reaching out, his hand encircling your waist with insistent warmth, drawing you nearer until your hip brushed his, the heat of his body seeping through the thin barriers. "Why so far?"
Without waiting, he leaned in, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His breath ghosting over the sensitive skin there before his lips pressed soft lingering pecks along the column of your throat, tracing the pulse that fluttered beneath.
You shifted away slightly, a hand rising to his chest, gentle but firm against the bandaged expanse to halt him. "You must not move so much, your wound will reopen if you keep this up."
"I don't care, the ache is nothing compared to being without you." He dismissed it with a low hum undeterred, nosing deeper and inhaling your scent like a lifeline, his free arm looping around your midriff to anchor you. "You always smell so good."
Your eyes rolled despite yourself, exasperation sharpening your tone as you leaned back just enough to create space, though his hold persisted. "Do you not listen? Rest means rest, not this."
A grin curved his lips, playful and unrepentant as his eyes sparkled with mischief. He tilted his head, the sharp line of his jaw brushing your shoulder. "I do listen but my mate is just so irresistible. How can I resist when you're right here, pulling me like the tide?"
The words ignited a storm within you. The urge to drive your claws into his chest, to end this delusion with finality, to flee into the jungle's embrace, and beneath it all, a treacherous pull to lean in, to claim those lips and drown the betrayal.
Your breath hitched, eyes flashing as your voice dropped to a warning growl. "If you do not stop, you will sleep in your family's marui tonight, without me."
He chuckled, the sound rich and affectionate, as he tugged you flush against him now, his head resting on your shoulder, one hand tracing idle patterns along your arm, savoring the silken texture of your skin. "I don't want to be away from you, ever. Even for a night. You're my world, (Y/N). Tell me you feel it too. The bond, the pull. We've always been this way, haven't we?"
You stiffened, the weight of his touches pressing like chains, his body molding to yours, warm and insistent, nuzzling closer as if to weave your scents together anew.
"Neteyam..." It came out softer than intended, a conflicted murmur as your hand hovered over his, torn between pushing away and letting it linger. "Just... be still. For now."
He hummed contentedly and undaunted, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone, his fingers interlacing with yours, thumb stroking the back of your hand in slow circles. "As you wish but I'm not letting go of you."
The marui fell into a charged hush, his affection a balm and a burden, the line between pretense and peril blurring with every shared breath.
You spent the entire day ensnared in Neteyam's unyielding embrace, his body a constant insistent presence against yours. He was every bit the spoiled brat his amnesia painted him to be. Demanding, playful, and utterly oblivious to the storm raging within you. From the moment the morning light had fully crested the horizon, he refused to release your hand, his fingers interlaced with yours in a grip that was both tender and possessive, the calluses on his palms rough against your smoother skin.
"Feed me." He murmured during the midday meal, his voice a low rumble and laced with mischief.
He propped himself up on one elbow, the lean muscles of his forearm flexing as he gestured to the woven basket of fruits and roasted kelp strips. His golden eyes sparkled with expectation, the sharp angles of his cheekbones highlighted by the soft luminescence filtering in. You hesitated, the curve of your shoulders tensing beneath the lightweight shawl draped over them, but his pout, lips pursing in exaggerated plea, drew a reluctant sigh from you.
Slicing a piece of sweetfruit with your knife, its juice glistening on the blade like dew, you held it to his mouth. He leaned forward eagerly but paused just before taking it. His breath warm against your fingertips, eyes locking onto yours with feigned innocence.
"A kiss first." He demanded softly, tilting his head so his kuru brushed your thigh. "For every bite. It's our thing, remember?"
Irritation flared hot in your chest, your free hand itching to deliver a sharp smack to that smug jawline as the taper of his ears twitched in anticipation. Yet, beneath the annoyance, a treacherous warmth bloomed low in your belly, spreading like sunlight through mist. His affection, fabricated or not, wrapped around you like the humid air itself. You leaned in grudgingly, pressing your lips to his in a brief chaste touch, your mouth soft against the firm warmth of his, the faint taste of herbs from his earlier tonic lingering.
He hummed in satisfaction, finally accepting the fruit, chewing slowly while his gaze never left your face.
This ritual repeated through the afternoon. Bite after bite, kiss after kiss, each one pulling you deeper into the pretense. His laughter bubbled up between mouthfuls, light and carefree as his chest vibrated with the sound, though he winced slightly when it jostled his bandaged ribs, the white wrapping stark against his azure skin.
"You're too good to me." He said after one particularly lingering peck, his hand sliding up your arm to trace the delicate ridge of your collarbone. "How did I ever deserve you, baby?"
You only answered with an eye roll, willing yourself to calm.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the interior in hues of amber and violet, he grew more reflective, his clinginess evolving into quiet confessions. He pulled you onto the furs beside him, your legs tangling with his as he recounted the day he first laid eyes on you, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, fingers idly stroking the cascade of your braids that spilled over your shoulder.
"It was during that raid, I thought you were the most beautiful creature Eywa ever wove, all fire and grace in one breath. Even with your blade at my throat, I couldn't look away."
Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, your pulse thrumming in your ears as you absorbed his words. The memory twisted in your mind, the confrontation, the kiss that had ignited everything yet led to this tangled web. Finally, you broke the quiet, your voice steady despite the knot in your throat shifting slightly, the soft swell of your hips pressing into the furs as you turned to face him.
"What do you think of Alayni?"
He blinked, surprise flickering across his features, the smooth plane of his forehead creasing. "Alayni? She's... nice. She's been around since we were children, always helping with the young ones or joining hunts. Reliable, like a sister almost."
The answer hung there, innocuous yet loaded. You pressed further, curiosity sharpening your tone with your eyes narrowing, lashes casting faint shadows on your high cheekbones. "Do you like her?"
His eyes widened, golden irises flaring with incredulity, leaning back as if the question physically pushed him.
"Like her? How could you even ask that when I burn for you alone?" He shook his head, a soft laugh escaping him, though it carried an edge of disbelief. "She's shown her interest. Blushing around me, weaving extra beads for my gear but I don't see her that way. Never have. My heart's been yours from the start."
You wanted to roll your eyes, the truth bubbling beneath your restraint.
Oh yes, but you were set to mate her if fate hadn't intervened.
The words clawed at your tongue but you swallowed them, maintaining the fragile peace.
He studied your expression, a sly smile curving his lips as he reached out to cup your chin, thumb brushing the plush curve of your lower lip. "Are you jealous? Tell me baby, does it sting knowing others vied for me?"
A snarl ripped from your throat, low and feral as you bared your fangs briefly, the lines of your neck corded with tension as you pulled back from his touch. "No. Jealousy is for the weak. I'm merely curious about your tangled loyalties."
His smile deepened, brimming with adoration as his eyes softened, he drew you nearer, his broad palm splaying across the small of your back.
"Alayni was just one of the candidates my parents pushed before I met you. They thought her steady, a good match for a future Olo'eyktan." He paused, gaze distant, reliving the memory of when you left. "I came to the marui where you were that night, heart heavy because I'd just learned they'd chosen her. I didn't want it, I wanted you. So I went there to confess everything, to seek comfort in your arms but I saw you with her first. She told you, didn't she? But twisted it to make it seem like it was decided long ago, that I was playing you all along. She lied, (Y/N). It wasn't set in stone, I was ready to fight it from the moment I knew."
Your eyes grew wide, the revelation crashing over you, pupils dilating in shock as pieces clicked into place.
So he hadn't been deceiving you, not entirely. The betrayal you'd nursed, the fury at his supposed duplicity... it shifted, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.
"I almost went through with it, you know. Why you fled with your sister that night, she said you wanted nothing to do with me. I believed her, let the pain fester." He chuckled then, the sound bland and tinged with bitterness as his shoulders rolled in a shrug, the play of tendons in his neck visible as he tilted his head. "But then you came back, told me the truth... we mated, formed tsaheylu under the stars. It was perfect until I woke up like this with no recollection of why I'm bandaged."
The words hung false in the air, his mind's desperate weave to fill the voids. None of it had happened, the bond a phantom of his selective forgetfulness. Frustration boiled within you, a scream trapped behind clenched teeth, claws aching to rake through flesh, to lash out at the cruel irony.
But you schooled your features into neutrality, jaw setting firm as you met his gaze evenly. "I... see."
Undeterred by your reserve, he pulled you closer, nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as his nose traced the sensitive hollow there, inhaling deeply as if committing your essence to memory. With a gentle tug, he guided you both down onto the furs. Mindful of his injury. you positioned carefully at his side, your head resting on the unbandaged plane of his shoulder, the rise and fall of his breathing syncing with yours.
"I see you." He whispered fervently, lips brushing your temple in soft reverent kisses, each one a feather-light promise. "Since the day you held that blade to my throat, your fire called to mine."
You bit your lip, the sharp sting grounding you amid the whirlwind, teeth pressing into the tender flesh, a faint metallic tang blooming as you held your silence.
His affection enveloped you like a cocoon, warm and suffocating, lulling the day into evening's embrace.
The next morning dawned with a hush, the first rays piercing the marui's weave before Neteyam's eyes fluttered open. You stirred early, slipping from his arms with the stealth of a shadow, your movements fluid and silent, the contours of your legs uncoiling as you rose, bare feet padding softly against the cool floor.
Pausing at the threshold, you cast one last look back at him, his handsome features softened in sleep with his lashes fanning dark against his cheeks, the strong bridge of his nose casting a subtle shadow, lips parted in quiet breaths that stirred the air.
A pang twisted in your chest before you turned away, vanishing into the misty paths without a backward glance.
You wouldn't wait for Neytiri. By then, Neteyam would stir, his questions a net you couldn't afford to tangle in further. The jungle welcomed you back, vines parting like old allies as you wove toward the treeline, the weight of departure lifting with each step. Just as the clan's central paths faded behind you, a figure emerged from the underbrush.
Alayni, her posture rigid with venom, arms crossed over her chest as she blocked your way, her eyes narrowed to slits.
"Had fun playing mates with mine? Taking advantage of his amnesia like the snake you are?" She spat, her voice dripping with accusation as she stepped closer, the aggressive sway of her hips belying the fury in her clenched fists.
You grinned at her, slow and evil, letting the malice curl your lips as your head tilted "Just as much fun as he had. Clinging, kissing, whispering sweet nothings. You should thank me for keeping him occupied."
She hissed lunging nearer, her breath hot and ragged as her fangs flashed. "Why are you even here? Skulking around like you belong?"
Your snarl matched hers, a guttural warning as your tail lashing behind you, claws extending slightly as you held your ground, the poised strength in your stance unyielding. "Don't worry, I'm leaving and never coming back. You won't have to betray your people again, teaming up with my sister to raid your own clan just to dispose of me in your twisted way."
Her grin twisted maliciously, a flash of triumph in her eyes lips pulling back in a sneer, one hand gesturing dismissively. "It was worth it. Every scream, every flame because it means Neteyam will be mine."
You pouted mockingly, the expression dripping with sarcasm as you puffed your cheeks slightly, eyes rolling in exaggerated pity.
"You had your people slaughtered, homes reduced to ash, all to eliminate me and claim him? You're not just delusional, you're a traitor through and through. Soon, your clan will uncover your rot and they'll see you for the venomous wretch you are."
Disgust curled your features, a final withering glance raking over her figure, the lines of your face hardening before you spun on your heel. Without another word, you melted into the foliage, the jungle swallowing your form whole, leaving her seething in the undergrowth.
The jungle's embrace felt mocking as you pushed through the dense foliage, the vines brushing against your arms like accusatory fingers. Your clan's territory loomed ahead, the familiar spires of woven huts rising against the canopy but the air hummed with a tension that set your nerves alight.
Once, the gazes that met yours were filled with awe, reverent whispers trailing your steps as the Tsakarem, the chosen one destined to weave Eywa's will into the clan's future next to your sister. Now, those same eyes shifted uneasily, darting away or narrowing in suspicion, the subtle flinch of shoulders and the hurried averting of faces speaking volumes.
You had betrayed them, after all, by dragging that Omatikaya warrior from the flames, his blood staining your hands as surely as your mercy had branded you a turncoat. Just as Alayni had sold her own people to the shadows for a chance at Neteyam's side, so had you fractured the bonds of your kin. The weight of it settled in your gut like river stones as you stepped into the clearing.
Whispers rippled through the gathered figures. Warriors pausing mid-stride, healers glancing up from their herbs with lips pressed thin.
Dread coiled tighter when she appeared.
Varang, your sister, emerging from the central marui like a specter carved from obsidian. Her presence commanded the space, broad shoulders squared beneath the weight of adorned armor, the scars across her arms a testament to battles won. But it was her face that chilled you. Blank, devoid of the fiery rage that usually ignited her amber eyes or twisted her full mouth into a snarl. This emptiness was worse, it was eerie and calculating, a void where her vicious fury should have roared.
"Tsmuke." You murmured, voice cracking despite your effort to steady it knees bending slightly as you lowered yourself in supplication, the soft curves of your torso shifting under the thin straps of your top. "Forgive me. I... I couldn't let him die there. Eywa's willâ"
"Eywa's will? The boy had you believing that false goddess who abandoned us?" She approached, her movements deliberate, the powerful swing of her tail betraying nothing.
Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your kuru with a gentleness that belied the threat as her nails grazed the sensitive neural tendrils, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine as she caressed it like a fragile vine. The touch was almost tender for her being yet it carried the promise of something darker.
"You are a traitor to your people." She said flatly, her voice a low monotone that echoed unnaturally in the hush as her eyes locked onto yours unblinking, the sharp angles of her jaw set like carved stone. "To your own sister. I should claim your kuru for that, sever it clean, or perhaps your head to remind all of divided hearts."
Horror bloomed cold in your chest as she drew her blade, raising it with fluid precision, the metal glinting in the dappled light, her biceps flexing with restrained power as she looped the edge toward your kuru. You breathed out sharply, bracing for the pain, your muscles tensing along your spine as your heart pounded against your ribs.
But she halted, the blade hovering inches from you before she withdrew it, letting your kuru slip free from her grasp. Her expression remained a mask of indifference, shoulders rolling back as she sheathed the weapon, the beads in her hair swaying with the motion. "You are not welcome here anymore. I have no use for divided loyalties, there is no place for traitors among the Mangkwan. Leave this place and if you ever return, I will not hesitate to forget you are my blood."
The words landed like a spear to the core, your heart plummeting into the pit of your stomach as a wave of nausea churned, you rose unsteadily, legs wobbling beneath the strength of your thighs. You bit your lip hard, the sharp sting drawing a bead of blood that you tasted metallic on your tongue, and turned away without another plea. The clan's stares burned into your back as you walked, first heavy steps then a numb stride, your heart a leaden ache in your chest.
Exile.
You belonged nowhere now, a ghost adrift in Pandora's vast wilds, your cruelty once a shield now a hollow echo of your being.
Hours blurred into an endless trek, the jungle's symphony fading to a distant hum as exhaustion clawed at you. Your feet ached against the uneven terrain, the sway of your hips slowing with each mile. The sun climbed and dipped, painting the undergrowth in shifting patterns, until the rush of water drew you onward.
The river, the same crystalline vein where Neteyam had found you before, time and time again, his persistence a thorn in your side. It curved invitingly, fringed with glowing ferns but solace it offered right now was a lie.
You collapsed onto the mossy bank, knees buckling as the fight drained from you curling into yourself, silent tears carved warm paths down your cheeks. Sobs caught in your throat, muffled against your knees, the isolation crashing over you like the current's foam.
"This is what happens when you try to leave me."
The voice sliced through the quiet, low and resonant, startling you upright. Your head snapping up, braids whipping across your damp face, eyes wide with wary as you scanned the shadows.
There he was, Neteyam, stepping from the treeline in all his imposing glory, the sunlight gilding his azure form. But this was no vulnerable soft version, his face was etched with darkness, his golden eyes hooded and intense, the usual warmth replaced by a predatory gleam as his broad chest rose steadily. The faint scars on his arms standing out as he moved with purpose, his tail flicking like a whip.
"What are you doing here? How did youâ?" You stammered, scrambling back on your hands as your palms sinked into the cool mud.
He chuckled, a dark velvety sound that sent chills racing across your skin. He closed the distance with unhurried strides, his long legs eating the ground. Crouching beside you, he invaded your space effortlessly, his heat radiating like a forge. One knee pressing into the earth, forearm resting on his thigh as he leaned in, the sharp cut of his jaw tilting toward you.
"I followed you." He said simply, amusement curling his lips fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to touch you, eyes tracing the tear-streaked glow of your cheeks. "I wasn't asleep when you slipped away."
Confusion swirled with the resolve in your chest. You straightened, forcing firmness into your voice as your chin lifted defiantly, the subtle curve of your neck exposed as you met his gaze, refusing to cower. "Leave me be, Neteyam. This isn't your concern."
He tilted his head, a knowing grin spreading across his features though the shadows in his expression deepened the hollows of his cheeks. "You're mine. Why would I leave you alone? We've danced this evasion too long, it's time you accept it."
A snarl tore from your throat, raw and unrestrained. The culmination of betrayal, exile, and this relentless pursuit bubbling over. Your fangs bared, the muscles of your shoulders coiling as you lunged forward slightly, claws extending in warning. You didn't care anymore about Neytiri's pleas to play along, to shield him from stress or negativity. Your world had shattered and his delusions were the final straw.
"I'm not yours! We aren't mated, none of it was real. You're supposed to be with that woman, Alayni. You hit your head in that fall. It's selective amnesia twisting your memories, making you think we're bonded when we're enemies. Demon blood runs in you and you're tainting everything, leave me alone!"
The words spilled out in a torrent, your chest heaving with the force of them as your breath comes in sharp bursts, the soft peaks of your breasts straining against the fabric as fury flushed your skin a deeper hue.
You expected shock, denial, perhaps anger but he remained calm, face blank as a still pond, absorbing every accusation without a flicker. His arms folding loosely across his torso, the defined ridges of his abdomen shifting subtly with each even inhale.
"Are you done, baby?" He asked softly, the endearment laced with dark affection, voice dipping low, one corner of his mouth quirking as he watched you unravel.
Confusion made your lashes fluttered along with disbelief as you looked at him. "Did you not hear what I said? It's all a lie, your mind's broken!"
"I heard you loud and clear." He replied evenly, unfolding to rise slightly, towering over you even in his crouch as his shadow fall across your form. "You think I'm stupid? That I don't know the truth of it all? I know everything, baby."
Your mind reeled, questions piling like storm clouds as your pulse thundered in your ears, fingers digging into the earth for stability as you searched his face for deceit.
What game was this?
He leaned closer, grin widening with a flash of something primal in his eyes. It was dark and unyielding possession, his pupils dilating as the golden hue sharpened like a predator's stare.
"I do not have selective amnesia." He tapped the side of his head, the words dropping like stones into deep water.
"What?" The syllable escaped as a whisper, shock rooting you in place as your body goes still, the taper of your waist tensing as realization dawned.
"Do you not get it, baby?" His grin softened into something almost tender, hand reaching out to caress your face lovingly. His palm cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the high plane of your cheekbone with feather-light pressure, calluses rough against your silken skin. "It was all a ploy, (Y/N). The confusion, the clinging, the fabricated memories. I orchestrated it to keep you close without resistance from my family, the clan, or even you. I needed you unbound, willing in my arms, away from the barriers who wants to keep us apart."
Shock rippled through you, the extreme lengths he had gone to. For you. This enemy, this forbidden flame, leaving you breathless. Your eyes widening, the vibrant irises reflecting his intensity as your lips parted in stunned silence.
Insanity woven from obsession stared back at you in his gaze.
"You're insane." You breathed, shaking your head in denial trying to twist away, the sleek strands of your braids swaying as your shoulders rolled back, seeking distance from him.
He chuckled again, the sound rich and unrepentant, pulling you flush against him with effortless strength. His arms encircling your waist, his chest a solid wall of warmth pressing into your softer frame, tsking softly as you resisted. "You made me this way."
You pushed against his chest, not with full force but enough to test the boundary, your palms flattening against the firm planes of muscle there, feeling the steady thrum beneath azure skin marked by faint healing scars.
"You're still gonna be mated to Alayni." You insisted, voice edged with defiance lips pressing into a thin line, the subtle quiver of your chin betraying the storm within. "We are not truly mated. She's what your parents want, what the clan demands. This changes nothing."
Neteyam tilted his head, golden eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that bordered on reverence, but his gaze drifted inexorably downward, fixating on the full curve of your lips. His pupils darkening as he leaned fractionally closer, the sharp line of his nose nearly brushing yours, ignoring your protest like a whisper lost in the wind. He didn't flinch, didn't argue, instead a soft hum escaped him as if your words were mere ripples on the surface of his resolve.
"She won't be." He murmured finally, voice low and threaded with certainty as one of his hand sliding up your back, fingers tracing the delicate ridge of your spine through the thin weave of your top. "Once my parents and the clan know what she did, Alayni will be cast out like the poison she is."
Shock rippled through you anew, widening your eyes as you searched his face for any sign of bluff breath catching, the slope of your shoulders tensing beneath his touch.
"What do you mean?" The question tumbled out, laced with suspicion.
Did he know? Had the threads of deception of that bitch unraveled further than I realized?
A grin split his features, slow and predatory, revealing the gleam of his fangs as amusement danced in his irises, tail curling possessively around your calf.
"I heard every word from your conversation with her earlier." He confessed, the admission rolling off his tongue like a secret long savored. "How she betrayed our clan, orchestrated the attack that brought death and ruin to so many. She sold us out for her own ambitions, your escape included."
The pieces clicked into place, stealing your breath.
When you'd risen that morning, believing him lost to sleep in the cot, he hadn't been. He'd lain still, eyes cracked just enough to watch you slip away, granting you a mere twenty seconds' head start before rising silently. His instincts had guided him through the underbrush, shadows cloaking his pursuit until he caught the murmur of voices.
Yours and Alayni's, sharp with accusation.
He'd lingered at the edge, ears attuned to every damning syllable. Alayni's confession, her gloating over the attack she'd ignited, the way she'd twisted your departure not as rejection of him, but as her calculated strike to claim what she coveted. Rage had simmered in him then but so had resolve, fueling his steps as he trailed you deeper into the wilds.
From there, he'd shadowed you to the Mangkwan borders, concealed among the vines as you faced Varang's cold judgment. Witnessing your banishment, exiled for the mercy you'd shown him had ignited something primal in his chest. His heart had burst with a twisted joy, not from your suffering, but from the irrefutable proof of your bond.
You'd chosen him over blood, over everything. No longer could you deny the pull between you.
He wanted to laugh at how successful his plan had worked.
It all stemmed from that fateful night, long before the ploy took shape. He'd woken in the dim glow of the marui, the haze of injury lifting just enough to catch his parents' hushed voices. Jake's gruff concern, Neytiri's soft recounting of your heroism.
You, the Mangkwan Tsakarem, his enemy, had saved him.
For weeks, his world had been a void, convinced you'd fled because you couldn't bear his touch, his clan's shadow tainting any future with you. But hearing of your sacrifice breathed life back into him, a spark that demanded action.
Right then, amid the quiet vigil of his family, he'd devised the selective amnesia. A performance to bind you to his side without the chains of duty or suspicion snapping shut. When morning came, he'd stirred with feigned confusion, clinging to you as his âmate,â weaving tales of a bond forged in secret. His grin had widened inwardly as belief took root. Lo'ak's wary glances, Jake's reluctant nods, even Alayni's frantic interjections when she knew, it all swallowed the lie whole.
His grandmotherâs counsel had sealed it, her wise eyes warning against stress that might fracture his fragile recovery. He knew his parents would honor that, allowing you unrestricted access under the guise of healing him. No forced mating with Alayni, not while he played the vulnerable son. And his mother... she'd softened, her fierce maternal love yielding to the sight of him animated again, how she saw the hollow shell of who he was weeks past was banished by just your presence.
She wanted her son whole and you'd become the key to that illusion.
He intended to exploit every fracture, every concession. You were his obsession, the fire that consumed his thoughts, and he would claim you fully. No matter the cost, the lies, or the darkness it demanded from him.
You breathed out shakily, the weight of his machinations settling over you like a shroud, chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm, the soft swell of your form molding against his as resignation flickered in your gaze.
"So you know." You whispered, not a question but an acknowledgment, the fight ebbing from your limbs.
He nuzzled your nose then, an affectionate gesture laced with possession as his breath fanned warm across your skin, the bridge of his nose gliding gently against yours in a promise of intimacy.
"She will pay for taking you from me." He vowed, voice husky with a blend of love and unbridled obsession, eyes half-lidded, the raw edge of his tone vibrating through you.
You heard it all in his voice, the devotion twisted into something fierce and unrelenting, the madness born of longing.
He was the architect of your chaos. The raid's echoes, Alayni's schemes, Varang's blade at your kuru, all traces led back to this pull between you. Yet, against the ache of loss, attraction bloomed unbidden within, a heat coiling low in your belly. Now knowing the depths he'd plumbed, the deceptions, and the risks just to ensnare you... it stirred something reciprocal. His love was a storm, dark and consuming, but genuine in its fervor.
Darkness wasn't alien to you. As Varang's shadow, you'd wielded cruelty like a blade, reveling in its sharp clarity. Your clan, your sister, they were ghosts now, severed by your choices. What remained? Emptiness or the shelter of his embrace? He'd toppled empires of tradition for you and in his arms, you could rebuild from the ruins.
Your gaze lifted, locking onto his with a newfound resolve, lashes fluttering once as you held his stare. Slowly and deliberately, you drew him down as your lips parted to capture his in a kiss. Hesitant at first then deepening with the surrender you'd long resisted.
Surprise flashed in his eyes, a brief widening before satisfaction curved his mouth against yours. Hands tightening on your hips, pulling you flush as he responded with fervor, tongue teasing the seam of your lips in hungry invitation. He kissed you back like a man starved, pouring weeks of pent-up yearning into the press of mouths and the tangle of breaths.
His body ignited, mind flooding with visions of you.
The plush give of your breasts against his chest, the rounded allure of your hips begging for his grasp. He craved to peel away the barriers, to uncover the dusky peaks of your nipples for it to harden under his gaze, to part your thighs and breathe in the musky essence of your arousal, to lap at the slick heat until you shattered in his mouth.
The kiss ignited like dry tinder under a spark, Neteyam's mouth claiming yours with a ferocity that left no room for retreat. His tongue swept in, bold and demanding, curling around yours in a slick dance. You gasped into him, a sound he swallowed by the deepening press of his mouth. Your hands fisting the straps of his woven belt as denial flickered one last time in your chest. But his grip on your waist tightened, thumbs digging into the soft flesh above your hips, pulling you impossibly closer until your curves molded to his unyielding frame.
"Mine." He growled against your lips, voice roughened by weeks of suppressed hunger.
He sucked on your tongue then, drawing it into his mouth with a wet obscene pull. His teeth grazing the sensitive underside, his low moan vibrating through you as saliva pooled and trickled at the corners. It was filthy and possessive, his obsession laid bare in the way he devoured you as if your very essence was the antidote to his torment.
You pulled back fractionally, breath ragged, the arch of your neck exposed as you tilted your head. Strands of dark hair cascading over one shoulder, catching the river's glow in silken waves.
"Neteyam... this is madness." You whispered, voice laced with lingering resistance, lips swollen and glistening from the onslaught of his hungry mouth. "We can'tâAlayni, your clanâthey'll never acceptâ"
His laugh was low and predatory, rumbling from deep in his chest as he nuzzled the curve of your jaw. Hot breath fanning your pulse point, fangs scraping lightly in a tease of possession.
"Fuck Alayni. Fuck the clan. You're the only one I see, the only one I crave." He captured your mouth again but this time his hand roamed lower, cupping the rounded swell of your ass through the thin fabric of your loincloth, kneading the flesh firmly eliciting an involuntary arch of your back. "Look at you. Soft, perfect, made for me. I've dreamed of this body every night, wanted to touch myself to the thought of burying myself inside you. Give in to me, baby. Surrender to what we both want."
His words coiled around you like vines, a manipulative silk weaving through your doubts. You were no innocent. Cruelty had been your armor but here, stripped by his gaze, vulnerability cracked through. And the heat building between your thighs betrayed you, a slick ache that made your denial ring hollow.
"I... I shouldn't." You murmured, even as your fingers traced the ridges of his abdomen, your nails dragging lightly, feeling the taut flex of muscle.
"But you will." He coaxed, voice dropping to a husky whisper as lips brushed your ear, sending shivers racing down your spine. "Because you feel it too, this pull, this need. Let me show you how good it can be. Just say yes and I'll make you forget everything else."
His free hand slipped under your top, callused palm gliding up your ribcage to cup one breast, his thumb circling the peak through the fabric drawing a sharp inhale from you as it pebbled under his touch.
Your resistance crumbled under the weight of his desire. You nodded, a small surrender, and he wasted no time. With deft fingers, he untied your top, letting it fall away to reveal the soft perky mounds of your breasts, nipples dusky and erect in the cool air.
Neteyam's breath hitched, eyes widening with reverent hunger as he stared with pupils dilating, a low groan escaping as he traced the curve with his gaze, committing every detail to memory.
"Eywa... so beautiful." He breathed, voice thick with awe leaning down to capture one peak in his mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud while his hand kneaded the other.
Pleasure shot through you like lightning, your head falling back and throat bared, a soft whimper slipping free as your fingers threaded into his braids. He lavished attention on your chest, alternating between sucks and gentle bites leaving faint red marks that bloomed like petals on your azure skin, his obsession evident in the way he murmured praises against your flesh.
"These tits... fuck, I've wanted to taste them since the first time I saw you. So full, so responsive. Want to watch how they bounce for me."
Your body responded traitorously, hips grinding against his thigh as arousal soaked through your coverings. He sensed it, a wicked grin curving his lips as he pulled back eyes dark with intent, trailing kisses down your sternum.
"Eager already? Let me see all of you." His hands worked at your loincloth, peeling it away to expose your core as your thighs parted instinctively, the cool air kissing your heated folds.
For the first time, he beheld your pussy. It was swollen, glistening with need, the musky scent rising like an intoxicating fog.
Neteyam inhaled deeply, nose brushing the softness of your inner thigh, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss, a shudder rippling through his broad shoulders. "Oh fuck, your scent."
He buried his face closer, tongue darting out to lap at the juices trailing down your thighs, savoring the tangy essence with a filthy groan.
You cried out, legs trembling as he licked a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, the flat of his tongue pressing firm, coaxing more of your arousal to drip in his awaiting mouth. "Neteyamâah!"
The sensation was overwhelming, his mouth relentless in sucking your folds, circling the bundle of nerves with expert flicks. His fingers parting you wider, exposing every inch to his voracious hunger. Your juices leaked freely now, coating his chin as he feasted, the lewd sounds of his slurps and your moans filling the air.
"Taste so fucking good." He rasped between laps, voice muffled against your heat, one hand pinning your hip while the other teased your entrance. "Dripping for me, aren't you? This pretty little cunt leaking like it knows it's about to be claimed."
He spat then, a deliberate dollop of saliva landing on your frothing core as he watched it mix with your slick before diving back in, tongue plunging deep to gather every drop.
Ecstasy built swiftly, your walls clenching around nothing, but he pulled away just as you teetered on the edge lips shiny, eyes gleaming with dark promise. "Not yet. I want to feel you come around my cock first."
Rising to his knees, he shed his own coverings, revealing his massive length. The flared head already beading with precum standing proud against his abdomen, the sheer size making your eyes widen in a mix of awe and apprehension.
You reached out tentatively, fingers wrapping around the girth barely encircling it, feeling the velvet heat pulse under your touch.
"It's... huge." You breathed stroking experimentally, thumb swiping over the tip drawing a hiss from him.
"All for you." He panted guiding your hand, hips bucking into your fist as he watched your face. "Gonna stretch you so good, fill you up until you're ruined for anyone else."
He positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the head along your slit, coating himself in your combined wetness, teasing your swollen clit with each pass.
"WaitâNeteyam, we can't... not fully." You protested weakly, even as your body arched toward him in anticipation.
"We can and we will." He murmured manipulatively, nipping your lower lip as his eyes locked on yours with hypnotic intensity. "Just the tip first then the rest of my cock, baby. Let me in, surrender this much and I'll make it worth it."
He pressed forward slowly, the broad head breaching you and stretching your walls with a burn that bordered on pain before morphing into exquisite fullness. You moaned, nails raking down his back leaving red trails that made him growl in approval.
"Too much... oh." You gasped but your legs wrapped around his waist urging him deeper.
"That's it baby, take me." He cooed inching further, watching your face contort in pleasure, his own features twisting with restraint. Once fully sheathed, he paused letting you adjust to the bulge forming low in your belly, his hand pressing against it feeling himself inside you. "Look at that, my cock making a home in your tummy. You're made for breeding, aren't you?"
You mewled at his words and he began to move then, slow thrusts that built to a punishing rhythm with his hips snapping in lewd slaps, the riverbank echoing the sound. Love bites peppered your neck and shoulders, his teeth sinking in just enough to mark, scratches from your nails mirroring on his skin, a canvas of mutual claim.
"Fuck, you feel so good. Gripping me like you never want to let go." His words were shameless as raw sweat beading on his temple.
Pleasure mounted coiling tight until you shattered as your walls convulsed around him, a cry tearing from your throat and body arching off the ground, stars bursting behind your eyelids.
He didn't stop, chasing his own release with frantic drives. "Coming inside you. Gonna flood this pussy, make it mine."
He spilled, hot ropes of cum painting your depths, sloshing audibly with his final thrusts, the excess leaking out around his base obscenely.
But one round wasn't enough.
He flipped you onto your hands and knees, re-entering with a single brutal stroke, hand fisting your hair gently, arching your back as he pounded deeper.
"Again. Need to feel you milk me dry." He demanded, spitting into your open mouth this time, watching you swallow with a filthy grin.
The second climax hit you harder, mind fogging as he filled you anew, your tummy bulging visibly now, a lewd testament to his claim. By the third round, you were fucked dumb. Limbs heavy, moans incoherent with eyes glazed, body limp as he rutted into you from behind, one hand rubbing delicious circles on your clit.
"So good for me. Dumb on my cock, just how I like you." He praised, nipping your ear, his free hand roaming to squeeze your breast and pinched your nipple.
In your haze, he moved with purpose. Gathering your kuru, he connected it swiftly with his own. Tsaheylu forming in a surge of connection that bound your souls, the bond electric, amplifying every sensation as he thrust through your overstimulation. You felt the gravity of his love and obsession with you. How he wanted to etch himself into your being until heâs all youâll ever know. How he was ready to defy everyone and leave his clan just to be with you. How he wanted to fill your pussy over and over again until you give him a big family. He burns for you and he will burn for you if he must.
You whimpered realizing too late but the pleasure drowned the protests bubbling up in you.
"Now it's real." He whispered triumphantly, voice laced with obsession and his eyes wild as the bond deepened. "Mated for life, no escaping me anymore. I'll take you home and no one can touch what's mine."
"Neteyam, what have youâ" You slurred but he silenced you with a deep kiss, tongues tangling as he drove toward another peak.
"I'll make you a mama." He vowed between thrusts, manipulative edge sharpening his tone as his hand splayed over your lower belly pressing the bulge. "Keep getting you pregnant every damn time. Swelling with my seed so everyone knows who you belong to. Your sister, Alayni, the whole damn clan, they'll see you're mine forever. You just have to give in fully baby, surrender yourself to me."
The words, the bond, the relentless pleasure, it broke you.
Or perhaps remade you.
As he came again, cum sloshing deep and overflowing in thick rivulets down your thighs, you clung to him, your denial shattered. You were mated truly now and escape was a faded dream. In his arms, you found a twisted peace. His darkness mirroring your own, binding you to him.
Your body trembled in the aftermath, every nerve alight with the echoes of ecstasy and the profound weight of the bond now thrumming between you. Neteyam's cock remained buried deep in your walls, a deliberate barrier sealing his cum within your tender overworked folds. The raw heat of your core clenching sporadically around him, holding back the warm flood that threatened to spill. A soft whimper escaped your lips as overstimulation lingered like a sweet ache.
"Shh, baby." He murmured soothingly, his voice a low rumble against your ear as one large hand stroking the sweat-damp curve of your spine. "You did so good. So perfect for me."
His tone wrapped around you like a cocoon, possessive yet tender, the darkness in his eyes softened by satiated affection for you.
Your vision swam in a haze of bliss, eyelids heavy as you gazed up at him with your lashes fluttering, the lines of your face flushed with exertion, a faint sheen of perspiration highlighting the subtle glow of your skin.
"Neteyamâ" You breathed, the word half-protest, half-plea, your voice husky from cries long silenced by his kisses.
He grinned then, a slow, predatory curve of his lips as he drank in the sight of you.
Naked and utterly claimed, scattered love bites blooming like violet bruises along your collarbone and the swell of your breasts, faint red welts from his nails marking your hips where he'd gripped too fiercely in the throes. Your beauty struck him anew, wild and unmarred by the world's judgments, every curve and stripes a testament to the obsession that had driven him to this.
Leaning down, he captured one dusky nipple between his lips again, suckling with gentle insistence as his tongue flicked the sensitive tip drawing a fresh gasp from you as sparks reignited low in your belly. He released it with a soft pop, only to claim your mouth in a lingering kiss. Lips molding to yours, the taste of shared passion still lingering on his tongue, his breath warm and ragged against your skin.
Without withdrawing, he shifted, strong arms banding around your waist to pull you upright with him. His cock still lodged deliciously inside, shifted angles that sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through you, your walls fluttering in response. You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into the firm muscle there, the stripes on his arms pulsing faintly in the dim light, a mirror to the bond's electric hum.
He stepped into the shallow river, the cool water lapping at your joined forms as he waded deeper. Cradling you against his chest, the current swirling around your thighs and teasing the sensitive juncture where you remained connected. Droplets clung to his broad shoulders, tracing rivulets down the defined planes of his torso as he began to wash you both. His free hand dipping into the stream to cup water over your marked skin, gentle swipes cleansing the evidence of your frenzy, though his eyes never left yours, still dark with lingering hunger.
All the while, he stole nasty smooches from your lips. Quick heated presses that deepened into tongue-tangling explorations as his fangs grazed your lower lip, a low hum of approval vibrating from his throat each time you yielded to his advances.
"My mate is so fucking pretty." He growled between kisses, voice thick with raw adoration as his gaze raked over you, from the tousled waves framing your face to the subtle sway of your hips in the water. "All full of my cum and marked. Look at you baby, mine in every way now."
You felt him stirring within you, thickening once more as arousal rebuilt. The lazy twitch of his hips pressing him deeper, sloshing the trapped seed inside you with obscene wet sounds that made your cheeks burn. A groan built in your throat, the sensation both soothing and igniting, your body betraying any semblance of fatigue.
"Do you not get tired?" You groaned, the words tumbling out as he mouthed at your nipple again, his teeth nipping the pebbled flesh, his hot breath fanning across your chest while the water buoyed your weight.
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending vibrations straight to your core as he lifted his head to meet your eyes, his own gleaming with unquenchable fire. "I'd fuck your pussy every day and still complain it's not enough."
The shameless declaration hung in the air, filthy and fervent, his hand sliding down to cup your ass, urging a subtle grind.
Your cunt pulsed at his words, a fresh wave of slick easing the way as desire coiled anew. Your inner muscles squeezing his cock involuntarily drawing a hiss from his parted lips. He responded in kind, fucking up into you with languid thrusts. Each roll of his hips deliberate, the friction building as your clit ground against the coarse texture at his pelvis, sparks blooming in your pussy with every press.
"You're so beautiful, baby." He whispered reverently, voice laced with awe, his free hand cradling the nape of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw as he held your gaze.
The water splashed softly around you, a rhythmic counterpoint to the deepening cadence of his movements.
Capturing your mouth once more, he parted your lips with his tongue, only to pull back slightly. Spitting a deliberate saliva into your open mouth, watching with hooded eyes as you swallowed, the act intimate and depraved. Then he dove in, sucking on your tongue with voracious pulls. Teeth grazing, saliva mingling in a messy heated exchange that left you breathless.
The pace quickened, his thrusts growing firmer despite the lazy intent. Your bodies rocking in the current, the bond amplifying every sensation until pleasure crested like a wave. You came first, a muffled cry against his lips as your walls clamped down. Stars fracturing your vision, limbs tightening around him in shuddering release. He followed moments later, spilling anew with a guttural moan. Hot pulses joining the existing warmth, the fullness overwhelming as it sloshed within you.
This time, he withdrew gently, the sudden emptiness making you whine softly. A trickle of his cum escaping to mingle with the river's flow. He cleaned you up for real then, thorough and attentive, rinsing away the remnants with cupped handfuls of water. Fingers careful over your sensitive skin, tracing the insides of your thighs before helping you into fresh coverings from his nearby pouch. He dressed himself swiftly, the woven fabric hugging his powerful frame, his kuru draped over one shoulder still tingling from the bond with you.
Scooping you into his arms, he cradled you bridal-style against his chest. Your head nestling into the crook of his neck, the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulling you. You snuggled closer instinctively, limbs heavy with exhaustion, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours like a balm.
He grinned down at you, that obsessive light in his eyes undimmed as his fangs peeked through before he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"Go to sleep, baby." He coaxed softly, voice a gentle command as one hand rubbed soothing circles on your back while he began the trek back towards his clan. "When you wake up, we'll be back in our marui as mates. Nobody can set us apart now."
Your eyes fluttered closed, the fight drained from you entirely. A quiet warmth blooming in your chest at the depth of his love, twisted as it was, mirroring the shadows in your own heart.
"You're still a disgusting demon to me." You mumbled, the words laced with weary affection rather than true venom you used to hurl at him.
He chuckled, the sound rich and fond echoing softly in the night, adjusting his hold to keep you secure as your breathing evened out. "And you're still beautiful to me."
As sleep claimed you fully, the world faded to the rhythm of his steps, the bond a unbreakable tether pulling you into his darkness.
His smile turned into a dark smirk as he continued to walk with you in his arms. He wasn't done yet. His plan still yet to unfold. He wasn't gonna rest until he's sure nobody will be an obstacle and he sure knows who to start with first.
Alayni will be an example of how far I'm willing to go for you, baby.
He laughed to himself as he realized, he really was obsessed with you.
the way his devotion gradually morphed into obsession and how his love is intricately intertwined with a darkened sense want is written so so so good, holy fuck.
Neteyam as a dad and his mate is attracted to to him being a good father and she wants more kids (breeding kink)
an insatiable man
another part to youâre beautiful (a short glimpse to their future where everything worked out in neteyamâs favor).
pairings: aged up oloâeyktan neteyam x female mangkwan reader
notes: neteyam really canât keep his hands off you he needs to find a hobby, you really fell in love with him despite the manipulation & darkness he turned to to get you, your kids are cuties, a mated life and a big family with neteyam, loâak and neytiri with exasperated disbelief at neteyam, neteyam being a sully through and through (he got it from jake). smut, breeding, neteyam a dirty talker, big dick neteyam, milk sucking.
prompt: loâak says neteyam needs to find a hobby but neteyam canât help it if his favorite sight is you all plump and pregnant every damn year by him.
word count: 3.8k
main masterlist | neteyam masterlist
credits to @uzmacchiato (dividers)
The rhythm of Neteyam's hips against yours was relentless, a deep unyielding thrust that filled you completely as he stretched your walls around his thick length.
You were pinned beneath him in the woven hammock of your marui pod, the soft glow of dying embers casting flickering lights across his broader and more muscled frame. The body of the once young warrior who pursued you so relentlessly without caring if itâs through deceit and manipulation had now turned into a devoted father and leader years later. His hands gripped your fuller hips, fingers digging into the plush curves that motherhood had gifted you, pulling you back onto him with each powerful drive.
The air was thick with the scent of your shared arousal along with the earthy aroma of the forest outside and every delicious slide of his cock inside you sent sparks of pleasure coiling through your core.
Your mind wandered even as your body arched into his, lost in the haze of sensation. Earlier that day despite the weight of his duties as Olo'eyktan, of being Jake Sully's successor and the fearless protector of the Omatikaya after defeating your old clan and punishing Alayni, you'd watched him with your four children.
His patience was endless despite your rough start, his love a quiet force that made your heart swell.
He'd knelt in the dirt with your youngest, little Tseyka, her tiny hands tugging at his braided hair as he explained the flight patterns of ikran with gentle enthusiasm. The older ones, Neteyra and the twins, had clamored for stories of his hunts and he'd obliged, his voice warm and steady, drawing them close with arms that could command a clan but cradled his family with such tenderness.
Even in the midst of council meetings and border patrols, he'd stolen moments to check on you. His hand brushing your belly still soft from the last pregnancy and whispering promises of more. Eywa, how you loved him like this. So strong, so attentive, the perfect mate who balanced the world on his shoulders without ever letting it touch you or the little ones.
A sharp tap against your thigh pulled you from the reverie, Neteyam's palm connecting with your soft flesh in a firm, possessive smack that made you gasp.
"Baby, focus on me." He growled low, his voice a sensual rumble that vibrated through his chest and into yours where your bodies pressed together. His golden eyes locked onto yours intensely, the slit pupils dilated with raw hunger. "You're drifting off in that pretty head of yours while my cock is reshaping your tight little pussy. Feel it? Feel how I'm molding you to me, making you mine all over again."
He emphasized his words with a deliberate roll of his hips, grinding deep until the broad head of him nudged against your cervix that sent a jolt of exquisite pressure through you. You whimpered, your fuller breasts heaving with each breath, nipples peaked and aching from the cool air and the building heat between you.
Neteyam noticed them, of courseâhe always did.
His gaze dropped to them, a predatory gleam flashing as he leaned down, his broader shoulders eclipsing the light. One large hand released your hip to cup the heavy weight of one breast, thumb circling the sensitive bud before pinching it just hard enough to make you cry out.
"These." He murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he squeezed, watching a bead of milk pearl at the tip. Your body still producing for the little ones, even now. "So full and soft, perfect for our babies. But tonight, they're mine. Gonna suck every drop from you, compete with our kids for this sweet milk. Make you leak for me while I fuck you full."
His words were blunt and direct, laced with that filthy edge that always ignited something primal in you. He lowered his head, lips closing around your nipple in a hot wet pull that had you arching off the hammock, the sensation shooting straight to your core where he was buried deep.
You moaned, fingers threading into his braided hair pulling him closer as he suckled greedily, the rhythmic tug mirroring the thrust of his hips. Milk flowed freely now, warm and sweet on his tongue which made him groan against you, the vibration humming through your breast.
"Taste so good, syulang." He rasped, pulling back just enough to let a trickle escape down your curve before lapping it up with a swipe of his tongue. "Our children get their fill during the day but at night? You're all mine. Gonna drain these tits dry while I breed you again."
His free hand manhandled you effortlessly, sliding under your thigh to hitch your leg higher over his hip, opening you wider for his relentless pace. The new angle let him sink even deeper, his thick cock dragging along every ridge inside you, the veins pulsing against your fluttering walls.
You could feel him everywhere, stretching and claiming, the sheer size of him making your body yield in ways that left you breathless. Motherhood had softened and rounded you, your hips wider and your ass plush against his pelvis with each slap of skin on skin. He reveled in it, his grip bruising in the best way as he pulled you onto him harder.
Your mind flickered back again to the morning.
How he'd gathered the children around the fire, teaching them to weave baskets with the same focus he brought to battle strategies. Neteyra had fumbled her fibers, frustration creasing her young brow, but Neteyam had only smiled that soft reassuring curve of his lips and guided her hands with his own.
"Patience, little one." He said, his voice like a caress. "Just like your mother taught me."
And you'd watched from the entrance, your heart aching with love for this man who led a clan yet made time to braid flowers into the twins' hair, to rock Tseyka to sleep when teething kept her fussy. He was insatiable for you, yes, but his devotion to your family? It made you crave him all the more, made you want to give him everything. More children, more of this life woven together. Itâs funny how you went from hating his demon blood to having four more of them with him, from being a cruel Mangkwan Tsakarem to a happy and cared for wife of the Omatikaya Oloâeyktan.
Another tap, this one on your ass as he shifted, flipping you slightly onto your side without ever leaving your heat.
"I can feel you slipping away again." He teased, though his tone held that sensual command, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw, turning your face to meet his gaze. "Thinking about how good I am with them? How I make time for our little ones even when the clan pulls at me?"
He thrust harder then, a punctuation to his words, his cock spearing into you with a wet obscene sound that made your toes curl.
"Good. Remember that while I fuck another baby into you. Focus on this, on how my big dick is carving out space for our fifth. Gonna make you a mama every damn year, baby. Fill this belly until it's round and heavy again."
You nodded frantically, lost in the haze of his words and the way he filled you, but your thoughts lingered on the tenderness of it all.
The way he'd come home exhausted from patrols, only to scoop you into his arms, kissing your forehead before checking on the children one by one. He'd tell stories of Eywa's gifts, his voice weaving magic around the pod, drawing laughter and yawns from the little ones until they slept. And then with you, he'd turn that same intensity into passion, his hands exploring your changed body with reverence. From the swell of your breasts to the curve of your waist like you were the most precious thing in his world.
It fueled your desire now, made the slick slide of him inside you feel like more than just lust. It was connection, a promise of forever.
Neteyam sensed it of course, his body attuned to yours like the beat of a shared heart. He released your jaw to trail his hand down your side, palm splaying over the softness of your belly, pressing just enough to feel the bulge of himself beneath.
"Look at that." He grunted, voice rough with need as he picked up his pace, hips snapping forward in a rhythm that had the hammock swaying. "See how I'm shaping you? Stretching this pussy for my seed. You're so full now, curves I can't get enough of. Gonna breed you deep and make sure it takes. Want you swollen with me again, walking around the clan knowing I put that there."
His mouth found your other breast, latching on with a hunger that bordered on feral, sucking hard enough to draw milk in steady streams. You keened, the dual sensations overwhelming as his tongue swirled, his teeth grazing just enough to sting sweetly while his cock pistoned in and out, the friction building that coil in your belly tighter and tighter.
He manhandled you further, rolling you fully onto your stomach now, his weight pressing you into the furs as he mounted you from behind. One arm banded around your waist, pulling your hips up to meet his thrusts, the other hand fisting in your hair to arch your back, exposing more of you to his ravaging mouth.
"Mhm, our kids always wanting your attention." He murmured against your skin, his breath ragged. "But their own father always win."
He nipped at your shoulder then soothed it with a kiss, his broader frame caging you in a way that felt protective and possessive. The tap came again, lighter this time on your hip as he adjusted, driving in at a new angle that hit that spot inside you relentlessly.
"Eyes on me when you cum, baby. Feel every inch of me, how I'm ruining you for anyone else, how I'm making you mine forever."
Your reminiscences blurred into the present, the image of him cradling Tseyka merging with the feel of him claiming you now. He was everything. A leader, father, lover, and your savior, the one who familiarized you with his overwhelming burning lobe and reintroduced you to a life believing Eywa. The thought pushed you closer to the edge, your body clenching around his girth.
Neteyam groaned feeling it, his thrusts turning erratic and deeper, the slap of his heavy sac against your swollen clit sending shocks through you. "That's it, baby. Milk my cock like you milk my mouth. Gonna flood you, breed you until you're dripping with me. Every year, more babies, more of us."
He flipped you once more, this time onto your back, hooking both your legs over his shoulders to fold you in half, his beefier arms bracketing your head as he loomed above. The position let him plunge impossibly deep inside you, his golden eyes never leaving yours, that soft dominance shining through the lust.
"I see it in your eyes, how you love me with them, how it makes you wet for this." A tap to your thigh, insistent. "So focus here, on how good I fuck you. On how I'll always come back to this, to you, fuller and perfect."
His pace built relentlessly, the hammock creaking under the force, your breasts bouncing with each impact with milk trickling from both peaks now.
You were lost utterly in the storm of him, the way his muscles flexed, the sweat glistening on his blue skin, the filthy promises pouring from his lips like prayers.
"Gonna suck these tits while our next one grows inside you. Make you a mama again and again. A big family just like we dreamed." His hand slipped between you, fingers circling your swollen clit with expert pressure, pushing you over as his cock throbbed inside you insistently.
The orgasm crashed through you with waves of pleasure ripping cries from your throat, your walls pulsing around him in a vice that pulled him deeper. Neteyam followed with a guttural growl, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside you with thick ropes of seed painting your depths, his hips grinding to push it further in you. He collapsed gently atop you still suckling at your breast, lapping lazily as you both came down, his hand stroking your curves with tender possession.
"My pretty baby." He whispered, voice softening to that sensual timbre you adored. "Now rest. Tomorrow, we start planning for more."
And in that moment with his warmth surrounding you, you knew you'd give him everything, again and again.
The soft hum of the Omatikaya village wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the bioluminescent flora pulsing gently in the twilight as the clan gathered for their evening rituals.
A month had passed since that heated night in your marui pod and already the evidence of Neteyam's insatiable claim bloomed within you in a subtle swell to your belly, a warmth that radiated through your fuller form and making your skin glow with the quiet promise of new life. You felt it in every step, the tender ache of early pregnancy mingling with a deep-seated contentment, your curves softening further under the weight of his seed taking root.
Eywa's grace. You thought, tracing a hand over the gentle curve, how he had a way of filling not just your body but your entire world with his devotion, of his love, of his belief to Eywa, everything.
Neteyam moved through the crowd with the effortless authority of the Olo'eyktan, his broader shoulders cutting a path as he nodded to warriors and elders alike but his golden eyes always found you, pulling you back to his side like gravity itself.
The clan rejoiced in whispers and knowing smiles at the sight of you two. Your growing family a symbol of strength and continuity for the Omatikaya. It has been several years and his people had truly come to love you despite being a Mangkwan. You had already proven yourself to them the day you chose their him and the Omatikaya over your sister during the last battle. It was a rough time but all of that led to this life you have now.
"Another blessing from the Great Mother." An elder had murmured earlier, her hand pressing briefly to your abdomen in benediction while children scampered nearby, mimicking the swell with exaggerated waddles and laughter.
It was a celebration woven into the fabric of daily life, the songs of fertility rising from the communal fires and honoring their leader's legacy in the most profound way.
But amid the joy, your own little ones were a whirlwind of excitement, their small bodies pressing close as you sat on a woven mat near the central gathering. Neteyra, the eldest at seven, knelt before you, her wide eyes shining as she placed a delicate flower crown atop your head.
"For the baby, Mama." She said softly, her fingers lingering on your cheek.
The twins, Aylu and Kiriak, five years of boundless energy flanked you, one hand on your belly, the other tugging at your arm, chattering about names and games they'd teach the new sibling.
Little Tseyka, barely two, climbed into your lap without preamble, her chubby fists clutching your kuru as she nuzzled against the swell that was already more pronounced to her innocent eyes.
"Baba." She cooed patting gently, her warmth seeping into you like sunlight.
You laughed, the sound light and breathless, overwhelmed by their affection as they fussed and clung, a tangle of limbs and love that made your heart ache sweetly.
"Easy, my loves." You murmured, stroking Tseyka's back while disentangling a braid from Neteyra's eager grasp. "Mama's here but the baby needs room to grow."
Yet they wouldn't let go, their joy an immense possessive thing mirroring their father's in its intensity.
From across the clearing, Neteyam watched with a soft smile curving his lips, his stance relaxed yet commanding as he finished a brief exchange with a scout. But the moment his duties allowed, he strode over, his presence parting the children like a gentle wave.
"Alright, little hunters." He rumbled, his voice that sensual timbre laced with playful authority. "Time to share your mother."
He scooped Tseyka up first, her giggles bubbling as he bounced her lightly on his hip, freeing your lap just enough for him to slide in behind you. With casual dominance, his arm banded around your waist, pulling you back against his chest until you were settled firmly on his lap, your swollen belly cradled by the heat of him.
The twins protested with dramatic whines and clambering to reclaim their spots but Neteyam chuckled, his free hand ruffling Aylu's hair while he held Kiriak at bay with a mock stern look.
"She's carrying our next warrior." He said, his tone brooking no argument though his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Papa gets first watch tonight."
It was effortless, this way he took charge. It was not harsh but it was unyielding, ensuring you lifted not a finger amid the chaos just like before when they captured you. He'd already seen to the evening meal earlier, arranging for fresh fruits and smoked fish to be brought to your pod and now as the children settled around you in a semi-circle, he reached for a nearby gourd of water, pressing it to your lips.
"Drink, baby. For you and our little one."
You sipped, leaning into his solid frame, the scent of his skin which was earthy and spiced with the day's exertions grounding you. His hand splayed protectively over your belly, thumb tracing lazy circles that sent shivers of warmth through you, a silent vow etched in his touch.
Neteyam had always been insatiable, his desire for you a constant flame from the first day he saw you and you held your blade to his neck but pregnancy amplified it, turning his passion into something firmer and more guarded. He hovered closer these days, his beefier arms a constant shield, manhandling you with care by lifting you onto perches during hunts' viewings and carrying you over uneven paths without a word.
"Mine to protect." He'd whisper in the quiet hours, his lips brushing your temple as he drew you near, unwilling to let even the simplest task burden you.
Lo'ak sauntered up then, his grin wide and mischievous, slinging an arm around Neteyam's shoulders in that brotherly way that always teetered on teasing. You remembered how he was wary of you but he had grown to care for you over the years, been a constant in your life and ensuring nobody in his clan messed with you for being a Mangkwan. He was always the favorite uncle he says, not that thereâs any more to choose from.
"Eywa bro, look at you. Olo'eyktan by day, baby-maker by night. Don't you ever get tired of yourself? Maybe pick up a new hobby, huh? Something that doesn't involve knocking up your mate every damn year." He dodged the half-hearted swat Neteyam aimed at him, laughing as he backed away but his eyes flicked to your glowing form with genuine warmth and fondness beneath the jest. "Clan's thriving sure but at this rate, you'll need a bigger marui just for the kids."
Neteyam snorted, his chest rumbling against your back but he didn't rise to the bait fully, instead tightening his hold on you possessively. "Jealous, skxawng? Find your own mate to build a legacy with."
His words were light but there was that edge of pride, his gaze dropping to where his hand rested on your bump. The sight of you pregnant because of him, his favorite vision, one that made his pupils dilate with quiet reverence. You felt it in the way he shifted you higher on his lap, ensuring your comfort, his body a throne of muscle and care.
Nearby under the shade of a massive tree, Neytiri sat with Jake, little Tseyka now transferred to her grandmother's lap for a story. The toddler babbled contentedly, tiny hands weaving through Neytiri's beads while Jake lounged beside them, his laughter lines deepening as he watched the scene unfold. Neytiri has been the first to accept your mating with her son out of the Sully family and eventually Jake had grown to care for you too. He sees himself and Neytiri whenever he looks at the two of you.
Neytiri shook her head, her expression a mix of exasperation and fondness, her sharp eyes tracking Neteyam's protective encirclement of you.
"Never thought our eldest would have such a big family." She sighed leaning into Jake's side. "He's not letting (Y/N) have a break from getting pregnant, Ma Jake. Oh Eywa, that child."
Jake's chuckle was deep and knowing, his hand squeezing Neytiri's knee as he glanced over to your family with pride evident in his gaze.
A Sully through and through.
"Tiri. He got that fire from me, couldn't keep my hands off you either remember?" He winked earning an eye-roll from his mate but the warmth between them mirrored the one you shared with Neteyam. "Neteyamâs just doing what comes natural. He loves her a lot."
As the evening deepened, the clan's rejoicing swelled into a rhythmic chant rising from the fires honoring the Olo'eyktan's growing lineage, their voices blending in harmony that vibrated through the air. Your children, momentarily distracted by the song, joined in with off-key enthusiasm, their small voices weaving into the tapestry.
Neteyam pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. "Hear that, baby? They're singing for us, for what our love made."
His fingers intertwined with yours over your belly, squeezing gently, that casual dominance threading through every gesture. The way he anticipated your needs, the subtle command in his touch that said you were his to cherish and to shield.
You turned your head catching his gaze, the emotional tether between you pulling taut.
In his eyes, you saw it all. The leader who balanced the clan's burdens, the father who played and taught with endless patience, the mate whose desire burned steady and deep enough to go through any lengths to keep you by his side, through blood and fire or not.
The glow of pregnancy amplified everything, your body humming with the life he'd planted and in quiet moments like this, with the village alive around you, you felt utterly complete. Neteyam's hand slipped lower, cupping the curve of your hip with possessive tenderness, a promise of nights to come when the children slept and his protectiveness turned to passion once more.
"They're happy." You whispered nodding to the kids who now danced in a circle, mimicking the clan's steps with clumsy joy. "All of them, our family."
"And it grows because of you baby." He hummed in agreement nuzzling your neck, his voice a low caress. "Because I can't stop wanting more of this with you. It was what I wanted ever since I first saw you back in the forest."
The words hung between you, intimate and charged, building that slow anticipation even in the midst of the gathering. As the chants swelled, he held you closer, his world narrowed to the swell of your belly against his palm, the beat of your heart syncing with his.
Every deceit, every darkness I became led to this. To you.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead grinning to himself as he held you and gaze at your children together by the fire.
random idea that popped in my head that i would love to see but i need reader (any clan) but idea is she always get whats she wants and she wants jake but also tonowari and doesnt care there mated?
i always get what i want
pairings: dilf jake sully x mangkwan female reader x dilf tonowari
notes: reader is a cunning bitch literally, themes of infidelity, jake & tonowari are cheaters, dilemmas in their mind as they feel guilt, big age gap between the two men & reader (reader is in her 20s), jake & tonowari are perverts in their own way. smut, voyeurism, masturbation, exhibitionism, humping, swallowing spit, big dick jake & tonowari (cmon we know itâs big), tummy bulge, underwater blowjob, threesome at the end.
word count: 11.1k
prompt: you, a mangkwan woman, asking for uturu in the metkayina clan ends up setting your sights on its oloâeyktan and toruk makto. you just loveee older men and you do not give a damn if they are mated. you know they wouldnât be able to resist you anyways because wherever you go, you always get what you want.
main masterlist | jake sully masterlist
credits to @uzmacchiato (dividers)
The sun hung low over the reef casting a shimmering veil of light across the waves as a Metkayina warrior burst into the marui of the TsahĂŹk and Oloâeyktan with urgency.
"Oloâeyktan." He said, voice laced with tension as his chest heaved in alertness. "Weâve found a Mangkwan woman wandering the fringes. She surrendered without a fight, claims sheâs asking for uturu in exchange for knowledge of their next moves against us."
Tonowari straightened from where he sat, his massive frame filling the space like an ancient tree rooted deep into the woven floor. His intricate tattoos swirled across his arms and chest in a map of battles won and alliances forged.
He turned his gaze first to Ronal, his mateâs beautiful sharp features etched with immediate suspicion as her tail flicked irritably. Then to Jake Sully, the Toruk Makto, who leaned against a post with that easy predatory poise, his yellow eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"Bring her." Tonowari commanded, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder, steady despite the undercurrent of caution.
Ronal hissed softly, her lips curling back to reveal pointed teeth, a warning glint in her teal eyes as she shot Tonowari a glare that could curdle the sea. "You invite enemies into our home?"
But Tonowari held her stare unyielding, the weight of leadership pressing on his shoulders.
You followed the warrior through the winding paths of Awaâatlu, your bare feet padding silently over the damp platforms. The ceremonial Mangkwan ash clung to your skin like a second hide, dulling the vibrant blue beneath to a ghostly gray but it did little to conceal the scant weave of fabric that barely draped your form. A thin strip across your chest and a low-slung wrap around your hips thatâs slightly frayed from your journey. The breeze off the ocean tugged at the edges, teasing glimpses of the curves you knew would draw eyes.
Your gold eyes, sharp and knowing, scanned the vibrant world around you. The swaying kelp forests visible through the water, the laughter of children echoing from distant pods. It was a far cry from the ash-choked skies of your clanâs territory. As you entered the marui, the air thickened with the scent of salt and herbs, the space alive with the soft glow of lights. You stepped forward letting your posture shift subtly, shoulders back and chin lifted in quiet defiance.
Your gaze met theirs one by one.
First, you raised your hand in the Naâvi gesture of greeting, fingers splayed. To Toruk Makto, whose lidded eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a warm thrill down your spine. To the Oloâeyktan, his broad face a mask of stoic surprise, the faint twitch of his nostrils betraying the scent of your presence. And to the Tsahik, whose wary stare bored into you like a spear tip, her body coiled as if ready to strike.
Ronalâs eyes raked over you, lingering on the ash-streaked expanse of your thighs and the way the fabric clung to the swell of your hips as disdain curled her lip. "What game do you play, ash-woman? Your kind brings only fire and ruin."
Tonowari couldnât tear his gaze away entirely, though duty anchored him. Your youth was evident in the smooth lines of your face, the grace of your limbs which was surprisingly untouched by the scars of endless war despite being Mangkwan. The scant clothing you wore left little to the imagination. The gentle rise of your breasts with each breath, the subtle dip of your waist flaring into rounded hips that swayed with natural allure. He felt a flicker of heat in his chest and shoved it down.
She is the enemyâs kin and you are mated, Tonowari.
He reminded himself focusing on the potential truth you offered. Beauty was a weapon after all and he would not be disarmed so easily.
But Jake... Jake was less restrained.
His head tilted to the side, a lazy wolf appraising prey, those golden eyes half-mast as they traced the ash-dusted curve of your neck, down to where the fabric strained against the soft fullness of your chest. He imagined the blue skin beneath, it was probably vibrant and unmarked. You were a vision of temptation, so young and ripe, your golden eyes holding secrets that stirred something primal in him. His tail flicked once, betraying the tension coiling in his gut.
Neytiri.
He thought of her, the guilt for looking at you twisting like a knife. He loved her fiercely, her fire and strength a constant in his chaotic life. But this... this was just a glance, just a harmless admiration for a pretty young thing. Nothing more.
You cleared your throat softly, your voice emerging smooth and steady, laced with a vulnerability you crafted like a lure. "My name is (Y/N) and I ask for uturu. I do not align with our TsahĂŹkâs ways anymore. She has merged with the Sky People and their demon ways, twisting our clanâs path into something alien."
Your words hung in the air, earnest on the surface but beneath them thrummed your cunning intent. These men, older and battle-hardened with mates, who commanded respect had drew you like moths to a flame right now. Youâd always craved the depth in the eyes of those older than you, the weight of experience that promised to overwhelm your young body and mind.
Ronalâs eyes narrowed further, her voice a hiss of frost.
"Your body is not meant for the ocean. Too slender and ash-bound, how can you contribute here? Youâll sink like a stone in our currents." She stepped closer, her presence a wall of authority but you held your ground letting your expression soften into wide-eyed determination.
You blinked slowly, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, your lips parting just enough to draw the eye.
"I will learn your ways no matter the cost." You replied, voice trembling with feigned earnestness, your hands clasping together at your waist to emphasize the plea. "And I will provide scopes on every bit of information about my clan. Their hidden paths, their weapons forged in fire. Everything to keep your people safe and stop the sky demons."
Internally, you savored the shift in the air from Tonowariâs subtle glance toward Ronal, her cold eyes unyielding as ice over the waves. You could feel their pull already, the older warriorsâ restraint fraying at the edges from the sight of you alone.
Tonowariâs gaze flicked to his mate, seeking her counsel in the silence but she offered none, her stare fixed on you like a predator sizing up an intruder. He turned then to Jake, who pushed off the post with a fluid motion, his muscular frame rippling under the movements.
"Their plans." Jake said, his voice low and gravelly, edged with the emotion of a man whoâd lost too much to threats like these. "Their tactics, their collaboration with the RDAâeverything?"
His eyes met yours again and you nodded, holding his stare with those pretty gold orbs that gleamed like buried treasure. The way his throat bobbed with a subtle gulp sent a spark of satisfaction through you.
"Everything, Toruk Makto." You affirmed infusing your tone with quiet reverence, the title rolling off your tongue like a caress.
He looked away briefly, jaw tightening as he conferred in hushed tones with Tonowari and the lingering shadow of Ronalâs disapproval. The information you promised could turn the tide against the Mangkwans and the RDA, it was a strategic edge they couldnât ignore.
You seized the moment as Ronal turned her back, her shoulders rigid with resignation. Subtly you arched your spine, pushing your breasts forward against the thin fabric, the ash-cracked material outlining the pert peaks beneath.
Let them see, let the sight burrow into their thoughts.
"Uturu has been asked." You murmured, voice a silken thread weaving through the tension.
Jakeâs eyes dropped to your chest, his jaw setting like stone, a flicker of hunger warring with the guilt that gnawed at him.
He leaned in to whisper to Tonowari, his words urgent and pragmatic. "It will be a help to us. We canât pass this up, not when victory hangs on knowing their moves."
Ronal sighed, a sound heavy with reluctant defeat, her tail lashing once before she strode away, weaving through the entrance flap without a backward glance.
"Do whatâs best then." She called over her shoulder, voice sharp as coral shards. "But I will not be the one to teach nor look over the Mangkwan female. Let her sins be yours to bear."
Tonowari watched her go, a pang of sorrow tightening his chest at the rift her words implied but his duty called louder. He turned back to you, his massive form casting a shadow that enveloped you. His eyes tracing the delicate line of your collarbone before snapping back to your face.
"Uturu is granted." He said, voice deep and resonant, carrying the weight of his authority. "Later, we talk in detail. Tomorrow, you start training with the ways of the sea and the life here."
You bit your lower lip, a small smile curving your mouth, soft and grateful on the surface but laced with a sick triumph beneath.
"Thank you, Oloâeyktan." You replied, letting your voice dip into a husky warmth that lingered in the air.
Tonowari nodded to the warrior who had brought you, his command brusque to mask the way his gaze followed the sway of your form. "Take her to an available marui. Let her rest, sheâll need her strength."
As you turned to follow, you made sure to let your hips roll with each step, the fabric whispering against your thighs, the ash flaking away in faint trails. You felt their eyes on you, Jakeâs bold and unapologetic, Tonowariâs more restrained but no less intense like twin flames licking at your skin. A shiver of anticipation danced down your spine.
Theyâre already hooked, you thought, your cunning mind spinning webs of seduction to get them.
The marui assigned to you was modest, perched at the edge of the platform where the jungle met the sands, a single woven hammock strung between posts, a cot if needed to sleep there instead of a hammock, and a low table for meals. The warrior lingered only long enough to point out the essentials before you turned to him.
"Is there somewhere to clean? To bathe away this ash?"
He nodded, leading you down a hidden path through the dunes to a secluded rock pool, fed by a freshwater spring that mingled with the seaâs edge. The water gleamed invitingly, steam rising in lazy curls from the warm shallows, surrounded by jagged black stones that shielded it from prying eyes.
"Here." He said simply then departed, leaving you alone with the whisper of waves.
You perched on the smooth top of a boulder, legs dangling just above the surface, not yet submerging. The breeze carried the tang of salt and blooming nightflowers tousling your hair as you gazed at the horizon where the sky bled into the ocean in hues of amber and indigo. It was breathtaking, so vibrant and alive, so unlike the perpetual gloom of Mangkwan lands that is choked with smoke and suspicion. A genuine smile tugged at your lips as you leaned back.
Life will be good here.
But the smile twisted into a sly smirk as your mind wandered to the two men who now held your fate and perhaps more. Jake Sully, the Toruk Makto, with his broad and powerful battle-scarred body, a softness at his midsection that spoke of hard-won peace rather than weakness. Those half-lidded golden eyes promising depths of experience you ached to explore. And Tonowari, the Oloâeyktan, a mountain of a Naâvi, his skin etched with swirling tattoos that begged to be traced by your fingertips or your mouth . So massive, so commanding, his presence alone could eclipse the stars.
Their mates were fortunate yes but you... you could be luckier.
A soft giggle escaped your lips, light and mischievous as you imagined peeling away their guilts layer by layer. Youâd always been drawn to older men, their wisdom mingling with raw strength in ways that made your pulse quicken. These two were perfection incarnate, mated or not. It didnât matter if they were though, you were a vixen who gets what she wants and youâd use every curve, every glance, and every whispered word to draw them into your tide.
The guilt they harbored only sweetened the chase as you could see it in Jakeâs lingering stare and the subtle clench of Tonowariâs jaw. They were attracted, pulled inexorably to your youth, your beauty emerging like a flower from ash. Tomorrowâs training would be the a thread that youâd weave tight, letting your words and touches linger until their resolve cracked like dry earth under rain.
With a contented sigh, you slipped from the rock, the warm embrace of the rock pool lapped at your ankles as you slid from the boulder, the water's surface rippling like liquid silk around your calves. Steam curled upward in lazy spirals, carrying the faint mineral tang of the spring mingled with the salty whisper of the nearby sea.
You paused there, letting the heat seep into your skin before your fingers hooked under the frayed edges of your top. The thin weave peeled away easily, exposing the gentle swell of your breasts to the humid air, nipples tightening into firm peaks from the sudden coolness of the breeze. You tossed the garment aside onto the rocks then tugged at the low-slung wrap around your hips, letting it slip down your thighs in a slow deliberate cascade. Naked now, you stepped deeper into the pool, the water rising to kiss the curve of your waist then higher until it buoyed your body with warmth.
Submerging to your shoulders, you tilted your head back, eyes fluttering shut as the currents worked their magic. The ash that had caked your form for so long began to dissolve, swirling away in dark tendrils that stained the clear pool like ink in milk. Layer by layer, it revealed the true hue beneath. A rich sapphire blue that gleamed with an inner luminescence, smooth and unmarred save for the faint scars of your clan's harsh life such as the subtle lines across your ribs from old scrapes and a small mark near your hip from a forgotten fall. Your skin drank in the moisture, coming alive with a subtle sheen. The water tracing rivulets over the arch of your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts and along the flat plane of your belly to the apex of your thighs.
You scooped handfuls of water letting it cascade over your arms first, watching how it beaded on the muscles there, honed from survival rather than the fluid grace of ocean swimmers here. Then your hands moved to your chest, cupping the soft weight of your breasts, thumbs brushing idly over the sensitive tips as you rinsed away the last gray remnants. A quiet sigh escaped your lips, the sensation grounding you in the moment. Lower still, your palms skimmed your sides, over the flare of your hips. Finally, you dipped your fingers between your legs, parting the plush folds of your sex with gentle care. The water rushed in, cool against the warmer heat of your core and you rubbed in slow circles cleaning thoroughly, the motion sending faint sparks of awareness through your nerves.
Unbeknownst to you, Tonowari had set out from the central marui with purpose etched into his every stride. The earlier discussion lingered in his mind like an unresolved current pulling him toward clarity. You weren't in your assigned pod when he arrived, the woven entrance flapping empty in the evening breeze. His expression furrowed, teal eyes scanning the sands. He sought out the warrior who'd escorted you, the young male pausing mid-task to bow his head.
"The Mangkwan female? She asked for a place to cleanse. The rock pool by the dunes."
Tonowari nodded once, a grunt of acknowledgment rumbling from his chest and veered toward the hidden path. The pool served many purposes, a lounge for weary hunters or a spot to meditate with the waves but he hadn't anticipated this. The jagged black stones parted like silent guardians as he approached, his massive frame moving with the stealth of a seasoned leader, broad shoulders cutting through the fronds. He froze at the edge, breath catching in his throat like a hooked fish.
There you were, bare and ethereal in the fading light, your blue skin aglow as if Eywa herself had painted you with the essence of twilight skies. Water clung to you in glistening trails, highlighting the pert rise of your breasts, nipples dusky against the azure canvas, rising and falling with each steady breath. Your waist nipped in delicately before blooming into hips that swayed subtly with your movements, it was looking so fertile and inviting. Your thighs toned yet plush, parting just enough to reveal the shadowed cleft between. Youth radiated from you, your skin taut and vibrant, curves unweighted by the years that had etched lines into his own body, a freshness that stirred something deep and forbidden in his core.
His heart thudded heavily, a traitorous heat pooling low in his belly.
Ronal.
The name echoed like a reprimand in his mind. His mate, fearless and beautiful, her belly swollen with their third child, their family a sacred bond forged in the reef's depths. Yet here he stood, transfixed by this intruder, this temptress whose form screamed vitality and sin.
Dizziness washed over him as your fingers delved deeper, parting the silken lips of your pussy with unhurried grace. The folds bloomed open, a lush bluish-purple hue that deepened at the center, slick with water and your own subtle arousal. Your clit peeked forth, a swollen pearl begging for attention, as you rubbed it clean. Your fingers circling with a tenderness that bordered on caress.
Tonowari's vision blurred at the edges as his eyes canât seem to pull away from your delicious body displayed to him like a feast.
Eywa, what sorcery is this?
He imagined his mouth there instead, his broad tongue lapping at those chubby folds, tasting the salt of your skin mingled with the pool's freshness, drawing out your pretty moans that would echo off the stones. His massive cock twitched beneath his tewng, thickening against the confines in an insistent ache that shamed him even as it demanded more than just looking at you.
You were moments from rising, the bath nearly complete when a shift in the air, a faint rustle of fronds and the subtle displacement of breath alerted you. Your gold eyes flicked sideways, catching the outline of his hulking form half-hidden behind a boulder. Inwardly, a smirk curled your thoughts like smoke.
Perfect. It seems as if I do not have to wait for tomorrow to start.
You mused, the cunning spark in you igniting. This was no accident of fate, it was an invitation wrapped in steam and secrecy. Pretending oblivion, you let your hand linger, thumb pressing firmer against your clit as a low throaty moan spilled from your lips. The sound of your sweet mewls carried on the breeze wrapping around him like vines.
Tonowari's breath hitched, his teal eyes darkening to stormy depths as he watched, convinced the rocks shielded him from your sights. You were a vision of unbridled sensuality, your body arching slightly as pleasure built and supple breasts heaving with each gasp. His erection strained painfully now, the fabric of his tewng tenting obscenely and Eywa, he wanted to bury himself in you. To pin those slender hips down and rut until your pleasured cries drowned the waves. The guilt clawed at him nonetheless, Ronal's trusting gaze, the laughter of their children, and the life they built. She carried their future even now, she was vulnerable yet strong.
What kind of man am I?
Yet his hand betrayed him, drifting to palm the rigid length of his cock through the weave, giving it a rough squeeze that sent jolts of need up his spine. He couldn't tear away from the sight of your pretty pussy, so creamy at the edges, the inner flesh a tempting violet flush that promised tight welcoming heat it would provide to his aching cock.
You were small compared to him, delicate in a way that ignited visions of dominance within him. His thick cock splitting you wide, stretching that tight entrance until it molded to his shape, your walls clenching him in desperate rhythm. He watched as your finger plunged inside you then, vanishing into the slick depths with a wet squelching sound that made his knees weaken. He bit back a groan, teeth grinding as he watched your pussy swallow your small finger greedily. His strokes grew bolder, hand working the bulge with urgent friction, the thrill of the voyeurism youâve given him twisting his shame into fuel of committing this perverted act.
The weight of his stare burned against your skin like sunlight and you fought the urge to laugh outright, reveling in the power of your unseen audience.
Let him squirm, this mighty Oloâeyktan reduced to a perverted filthy watcher touching himself to a young woman's forbidden display.
Your moans escalated, body undulating in the water as your hips bucked subtly, free hand kneading a breast when ecstasy crested. It hit you in waves, your core pulsing around your finger as a gush of creamy goop spilled forth, trickling down your thighs to mingle with the pool. Your cry was unrestrained, back bowing as shudders wracked you.
Tonowari shattered in the same breath, his rough palm grinding hard against his cock as his own release surged, hot seed soaking through his tewng in sticky pulses.
Fuck.
He felt the horror mingling with bliss with what he did, the evidence of his weakness seeping warm against his skin. Panic surged as he spun away, retreating through the fronds with hasty steps, putting distance between himself and the scene of his lapse. He stopped farther along the path, composing his features into stern neutrality as if he'd only just arrived and had not peeked at you like a horny teenager seeing a woman for the first time.
You lingered a moment savoring the afterglow then rinsed once more, the water soothing the flush on your skin. Emerging, you dressed swiftly with the top being retied over your still-sensitive breasts, the loincloth settling against your damp folds with a teasing friction. One minute ticked by in your mind before you followed his trail, footsteps light and feigned innocence in every sway.
He stood there amid the dunes, arms crossed over his massive chest, his tattoos stark against the teal expanse but you caught the tells of the subtle pant to his breaths and the faint sheen of sweat on his brow.
"Oloâeyktan?" You called softly, voice laced with polite surprise, golden eyes wide as if you'd materialized from thin air.
He coughed, clearing his throat with a rumble that betrayed the dryness within, avoiding your gaze for a beat too long.
"I was trying to find you." He said, tone gruff and edged with the strain of restraint. "We need to discuss the information from your clan... and your training tomorrow."
His eyes flicked to yours then but the memory of your body lingered making his pulse thunder.
"Oh, okay." You replied stepping closer, painting the picture of earnest cooperation.
You launched into the details without hesitation, words flowing like a confession. The Mangkwans' tactics, ambushes from ash clouds, feints with fire signals to draw out foes. How the TsahĂŹk Varang had bound herself to Miles Quaritch in a twisted mating for Sky People weaponry.
"Sky demon weapons that makes thunder." You described, gesturing with slender hands. "Ripping through flesh and bone from afar. They've been forging alliances in the shadows, arming Mangkwan warriors with these demon tools."
Tonowari absorbed it all, his expression hardening into focused intensity though the proximity of your scent stirred the embers he'd tried to douse. He'd relay this to Jake, especially about the thunder-maker weapons. The Toruk Makto's knowledge of such human abominations would prove invaluable.
"Jake will train you first tomorrow." He decided aloud, voice steady despite the undercurrent. "Teaching another will sharpen his own skills of the life here. You'll learn our ways under his eye."
You nodded, a sweet smile curving your lips, all wide-eyed gratitude that masked the predator beneath. But nothing escaped your notice, eyeing the way his chest rose and fell too quickly and the dark patch blooming at the front of his tewng. It was subtle to most but glaring to you, a telltale sign of his spilled desire.
Dirty old man.
You thought, a thrill zipping through you as your pussy clenched in response, your walls fluttering with renewed hunger.
He must have stroked that massive cock of his while watching me unravel.
The image flooded your mind of how his hand worked furiously, his tattooed teal skin flushed as he watched you. It made you bit your lower lip suppressing a shiver. Emboldened you reached out, fingers trailing lightly over the inked breadth of his arm, feeling the corded muscle tense under your touch. The tattoos swirled like stories etched in flesh, warm and textured against your palm.
"Thank you for granting me uturu, Oloâeyktan." You murmured, voice a velvet purr wrapped in sincerity. "Iâll make sure to be useful. You can use me however you see fit."
The words hung double-edged, innocent on the surface but dripping with implication, your golden eyes locking onto his with a flicker of heat.
He swallowed hard, the bob of his throat audible, teal eyes widening fractionally as filthy possibilities cascaded through his mind. Your body yielding beneath him, your soft cries echoing in the night. Heat flushed his cheeks, guilt warring with the spark you'd ignited.
She can't mean... no, it's just words.
You held the smile, pure and demure, letting him wrestle the ambiguity alone making Tonowari shook his head sharply as if to dislodge the thoughts, his tail flicking irritably.
"Rest now." He said brusquely, turning to lead you back to your marui, the path silent save for the crunch of sand underfoot. At the entrance he paused, dipping his head in farewell. "Tomorrow, at dawn. Be ready."
You watched him go, the broad expanse of his back receding into the twilight, a grin spreading slow and wicked across your face.
The game had begun in earnest, and oh, how deliciously it promised to unfold.
The next morning, the first rays of dawn filtered through the woven walls of your marui, painting the interior in soft golds and pinks that danced across the sleeping mats. A gentle knock echoed against the kelp-reinforced entrance, pulling you from the haze of sleep. You stretched languidly, arms arching overhead as your body uncoiled, muscles loosening with a satisfying pull that sent a shiver down your spine. The air inside was still warm from the night, carrying the faint scent of sea salt and woven fibers.
Pushing aside the flap, you blinked against the brighter light outside, your golden eyes meeting the familiar figure of Toruk Makto standing there, his broad silhouette framed by the rising sun.
"Toruk Makto." You murmured, voice husky from slumber, a subtle smile tugging at your lips as you took him in.
His scarred muscular form clad in simple hunting gear, the lines of experience etched into his handsome face, yellow eyes sharp and assessing. That delicious little pudge of stomach that you know would hit your clit just right when heâs plunging his cock in and out of you.
He tilted his head, a crooked grin breaking through his usual stoic demeanor as his gaze swept over you, lingering on the now-revealed contours of your face and the smooth expanse of your blue skin, free from the ash that had once obscured it.
"Just call me Jake." He said, his tone casual but laced with an undercurrent of appreciation.
Up close, without the ash soot dulling your features, you were a revelation. Your high cheekbones flushed with morning warmth, your full lips parted slightly, and those striking golden eyes that seemed to hold secrets of the deep earth.
You nodded, letting your eyes trace the strong line of his jaw and the way his kuru draped over one shoulder like a warrior's braid before gesturing inside.
"Do you want to come in? I'll just prepare really quickly and then we can go." Your words were polite and inviting but you caught the brief hesitation in his stance.
You noticed the subtle shift of his weight as if weighing the propriety of entering the private space of a young unmated female. After a beat, he ducked through the low entrance, his tail flicking once in mild uncertainty. The marui was compact, a single open area with a low platform for sleeping and scattered belongings from your arrival.
You turned away from him, suppressing the inward curl of your smirk, the thrill of the hunt igniting in your veins. Feigning innocence, you bent at the waist to retrieve your top from where it had fallen near the mat, your movements slow and unhurried. The thin tweng rode up with the motion, the edge shifting just enough to bare the left cheek of your pussy. A glimpse of soft bluish-purple folds, plump and inviting, the subtle sheen of morning dew catching the light.
Jake's breath hitched audibly behind you, a sharp intake that betrayed the rush of blood southward.
Shit.
His cock surging to life beneath his own coverings, thickening into a rigid bar that strained against the fabric. Heat flooded his veins as visions assaulting him of those legs parting wider, that hidden treasure you have yielding to his touch. He spun on his heel facing the wall, one hand subtly adjusting himself through the weave, willing the ache to subside before you turned and saw the evidence of his reaction. His heart pounded like war drums, guilt flickering at the edges with Neytiri's face flashing in his mind, their shared life, and the family they'd built.
But damn you were a vision, young and ripe for the taking, stirring instincts he thought he long tempered back on Earth.
Straightening, you slipped the other top over your head after removing the one you wore with swift efficiency, the material hugging your curves as you smoothed it down. Then stepping close, you placed a light hand on his broad back, fingers splaying over the taut muscles there, feeling the warmth radiate through his skin.
"I'm done. We can go." The phrase dripped with innocence on the surface but layered beneath was the promise of pursuit, of bodies entwined and breathless.
He imagined it then, your form stripped bare beneath those scant layers, your skin glowing like polished sapphire, breasts full and bouncing with each step, hips rolling in a rhythm that begged to be gripped. Clearing his throat, he nodded stiffly and led the way out, the path to the training cove winding through swaying palms and over sun-warmed sands.
The conversation flowed lightly at first, questions about your journey but curiosity burned in his eyes.
"You mated?" He asked finally, voice gruff as if testing waters he knew were treacherous.
You giggled, the sound light and melodic like wind chimes in a breeze, shaking your head as you walked beside him.
"No." Pausing for effect, you glanced up through your lashes, letting your gaze linger on the scars across his chest. "I like older men though. I want to be taken care of. I want them... experienced."
The words hung in the air, deliberate and teasing, painting pictures of his guidance turning carnal, of his strong hands teaching lessons far beyond the spear or swim.
Jake gulped, the sound thick in his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as a fresh wave of arousal tightened his gut. Your admission was a spark to dry tinder and he quickened his pace, focusing on the horizon where the lagoon met the reef.
The training began in earnest upon arrival, a secluded inlet with shallow turquoise waters lapping at coral-strewn shores, the air humming with the calls of distant ilu. He demonstrated the basics first such as balancing on a woven board, the fluid strokes of free-diving but it was the breathing techniques that demanded closeness.
"You need to hold longer underwater." He explained standing knee-deep in the gentle surf, water beading on his legs like jewels. "It's about control, deep inhales from the diaphragm, not the chest. Like this."
He inhaled slowly, chest rising minimally while his abdomen expanded then exhaled in a steady stream. You mimicked him but your breaths came shallow and erratic, the unfamiliar rhythm evading you.
Frustration creased your brow and you exhaled sharply. "It's not working."
Jake waded closer, the water parting around his thighs, his presence towering yet reassuring. "Here, let me guide you."
One large hand settled on your chest, palm flat over the swell of your breast, the other pressing warmly against your tummy, fingers splaying across the soft plane. The contact was instructional, meant to direct the flow of air but the sensation was electric. Your plush boobs yielding softly under his touch, the give of it like ripe fruit, warm and pliant through the thin top. His eyes dipped involuntarily, tracing the way the fabric clung, outlining the dusky peaks beneath.
You smirked inwardly, the heat of his palm sending tingles radiating outward, your nipple hardening against his skin.
Biting your lip, you met his gaze with feigned curiosity. "Do you like them?"
"Huh?" He blinked caught off guard, his hand still lingering a fraction too long.
Emboldened, you covered his hand with your smaller one, pressing down gently but firmly, making him squeeze the soft mound. The pressure molded your flesh around his fingers, a deliberate invitation that drew a ragged cough from him as he yanked back, water splashing in his haste.
Your breasts were unlike any he'd known. It was soft, almost human in their yielding bounce, a decadent contrast to Neytiri's firm ones.
How?
The question echoed in his mind, curiosity warring with desire. Na'vi women were lithe and firm yet yours carried this lush tenderness as if begging to be kneaded, suckled, and marked by him.
He wanted to, gods. The urge clawed at him, to cup them fully, to thumb the peaks until you arched but it was wrong, it was a betrayal to Neytiri wrapped in temptation. Clearing his throat again, he averted his eyes, his jaw clenched.
"Focus on the breathing." He muttered, voice strained, though the flush creeping up his neck told you everything.
You pouted, lips pursing in playful disappointment, lower body shifting closer in the water. "It's not working, Jake."
"It will. Just breathe." His words were clipped, restraint fraying at the edges as your proximity teased him with the scent of your skin, clean and faintly floral from last night's bath and mingling with the brine.
Tilting your head, you let a sly grin bloom, golden eyes sparkling with mischief. "I know how you can teach me to hold my breath longer."
"How?" The question escaped him before he could rein it in, his curiosity piqued despite the warning bells.
In a fluid motion, you closed the distance, climbing onto his lap as he sat in the shallows, your thighs straddling his hips with bold assurance. The water buoyed you both but the weight of you settled firmly against him, your core pressing to the hard ridge of his thigh. He grunted in surprise, hands instinctively rising to your waist to steady or perhaps halt the intrusion, your boldness a shockwave through his composure.
"What are you doing, kid?" His voice was a low rumble and laced with warning but his grip tightened, fingers digging into the curve of your hips, feeling the heat of you seep through the weaves.
"You want to teach me to hold my breath longer, right?" You whispered leaning in until your breaths mingled, your lips hovering inches from his. "This is the way."
Before he could protest, you captured his lips in a kiss. So softly at first with a brush of plush lips against his supple ones yet also insistent, your mouth sealing over his with a hunger that demanded response. He froze for a heartbeat, the world narrowing to the taste of you. So sweet and wild like sun-ripened fruit laced with salt. Then realization dawned in him with how you meant kissing without pause, denying you air until your lungs burned in a twisted lesson of endurance.
This is wrong.
His mind screamed that he was mated, bound to Neytiri in body and spirit. How you are not at the same age bracket, a forbidden fruit dangling before a man who'd sworn oaths. Yet you were deliciously young, pretty in a way that twisted his resolve with your glowing skin and golden eyes alight with knowing fire.
A mewl vibrated from your throat into his mouth, so soft and needy it shattered him. He devoured you then, lips parting to claim as his tongue sweeped in with a growl that rumbled from his chest. He was only a man, after all. He was a warrior tested by battles but vulnerable to the siren call of a pretty and young woman perched on his lap, grinding subtly as if scenting his surrender. Your hands threaded into his dreads pulling him deeper and he responded in kind, one palm sliding up your back to cradle your nape, the other anchoring your hip.
The kiss deepened into something feral, breaths stolen in shared gasps only to plunge back into the fray. You felt it then, the obscene tent of his cock rising against your pussy, thick and unyielding through the barriers of fabric, pulsing with the rhythm of his heartbeat. A triumphant wicked grin curved your lips against his. He was so big, the length promising to fill you to aching limits, to stretch and claim. Emboldened by his arousal, you began to grind and rolling your hips in slow deliberate circles, the friction teasing your clit through the cloth, sending sparks of pleasure coiling low.
Jake groaned into your mouth, the sound guttural and raw, vibrations humming against your tongue.
"Ah shit." He grunted breaking for a mere second before reclaiming you, teeth nipping at your lower lip as your humping grew bolder with your pussy lips parting around his bulge, slickness seeping to dampen both your coverings.
"So big Jake." You whispered against him, the words a hot puff of air, your voice breathy and laced with awe.
"Yeah?" He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his own darkened to molten gold, pupils blown wide with lust.
The question was rough, seeking affirmation even as his body betrayed him.
"Mhm." You hummed diving back in, tongues swirling in a lewd dance.
Yours tentative at first then bold, tangling with his broader one as he sucked on yours like a man starved, drawing it deep into his mouth with obscene pulls that made your core throb. Saliva mingled slick and messy dripping from the corners of your joined lips as he continued to suckle.
His big hands, callused from years of wielding bows and reins, guided your hips now, not restraining but encouraging, his long fingers kneading the flesh as he directed the grind. Each roll pressed you harder against his hard cock, the bulbous head nudging insistently at your entrance through the weaves and promising delicious invasion. The water lapped at your joined forms, cool against the fever building between you but it did nothing to quench the fire.
In a surge of dominance, Jake gathered saliva on his tongue and spat into your open mouth in a filthy possessive act that made you moan. The warm droplet landing on your tongue before you swallowed it down with a shiver, the taste of him salty and intimate.
"That's it." He murmured against your lips, voice a gravelly whisper. "Swallow me. Take it all."
His free hand roamed upward, cupping your plump breast through the top, thumb circling the hardened nipple in firm strokes that drew whimpers from you. The kiss turned more sloppy, breaths ragged between plunges of his warm tongue, your lungs burning already from the denied air but the pleasure overrode it all. His massive cock throbbing beneath you, your pussy clenching in anticipation, the world reduced to the slick slide of bodies and the pounding of hearts.
He broke away briefly as he panted, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked in a haze of desire and dawning regret. "We shouldn't... fuck, you're killing me."
But his hips bucked up involuntarily, grinding back, the friction eliciting a shared gasp that dissolved into another devouring kiss, deeper and hungrier as if to drown the guilt in the flood of want.
That stolen moment in the shallows marked the beginning of the unraveling between you and Jake. A secret etched in the salt of the water, your bodies pressed in illicit rhythm, his restraint crumbling under the weight of your bold advances. The days blurred into a haze of training and temptation, each session laced with the undercurrent of desire that neither of you could fully deny. Guilt gnawed at him with a shadow in his golden eyes but your youth and your allure pulled him back like the tide every damn time.
The following morning with what happened with Jake as the sun climbed higher over the reef casting shimmering patterns on the waves, Tonowari arrived at your marui.
His presence filled the entrance with his broad shoulders nearly brushing the kelp frame, his teal eyes scanning the space with a mix of authority and something unspoken. Perhaps the memory of what he did in that hidden rock pool where he watched you unravel in ecstasy, his own release a shameful echo of his betrayal. You greeted him with a soft smile, your body already humming with intent, the thin top and tewng clinging to your curves like a second skin.
"Good morning, Olo'eyktan." You said, voice warm and deferential, though your gaze lingered on the powerful lines of his chest and the way his arms flexed as he crossed them. "Ready for today's lesson?"
He nodded, his tail flicking once, betraying a flicker of unease. "The breathing exercises. We start in the deeper cove today. Follow me."
His tone was steady and commanding but you caught the subtle hitch, the way his eyes darted to your form before snapping away. Ronal's suspicions still hung in the air like mist and his mate's pregnancy weighed on him yet here he was, drawn to the very temptation he'd sworn to resist.
The path to the cove wound through lush foliage, the air thick with the scent of blooming vines and distant sea spray. You walked close to him, your arm brushing his occasionally, each contact sending sparks across your skin. Conversation flowed easily at first with his questions about your clan's tactics and the thunder-weapon's vulnerabilities but you steered it toward the personal side, your words laced with honeyed curiosity.
"You've led your people through so much." You murmured, glancing up at him through your lashes. "It must be... exhausting, carrying all that weight alone. Do you ever let go?"
Tonowari's jaw tightened, his steps faltering for a beat. "A leader doesn't have that luxury. But why do you ask?"
You shrugged lightly, letting your fingers trail along a low-hanging leaf, the motion drawing his eye to the sway of your hips. "Just wondering. Younger warriors like me... we crave guidance. Someone strong and experienced to show us the way."
The double meaning hung between you, unspoken but electric, and you saw the conflict flash in his eyes. The desire warring with duty, the memory of your moans in the pool fueling the fire he tried so hard to water down.
At the cove the water deepened into a crystalline blue, fringed by jagged rocks that sheltered it from the wind.
Tonowari stripped down to his loincloth as he removed his chest piece, his body a testament to years of training. His muscles corded and scarred, a slight softness at his midsection from the comforts of leadership yet no less imposing. His gaze lingered on you with heat blooming in his cheeks before he turned to the water.
"Underwater endurance is key for our hunters." He explained, wading in up to his waist. "You must control your breath, push past the burn. Watch."
He dove under, resurfacing after a long count with water streaming from his braids. You tried but the water closed over you too soon, your lungs screaming as you broke the surface gasping.
Frustration etched your features just like what happened with Jake and you swam closer, your bodies nearly touching in the waveâs embrace. "It's harder than it looks. Maybe... you could help me feel it? Guide me?"
His breath caught at the reference, the pool's secrets bubbling up. "Like how?"
You pressed nearer, your hand finding his arm, tracing the vein that pulsed there. "Close. Intimate. Make me hold it until I can't... until I surrender to you."
Your voice dropped to a whisper, gold eyes locking onto his teal ones, boldly and unashamed. The air thickened, charged with the salt and the scent of your arousal already stirring.
Tonowari's resolve cracked, his large hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your lip. "This is dangerous, little one. I have a mate, a family..."
But his words trailed off as you leaned in, your supple lips parting invitingly.
"Then just teach me." You breathed, sinking lower in the water until your face hovered near his waist. "Use me to learn control. Make me take it all, hold my breath on you."
A groan rumbled from his chest, guilt flickering one last time before desire overtook him. He untied his loincloth, his cock springing free which was already half-hard from the tension, the head flushed a deeper blue.
You licked your lips, heart racing as you wrapped your fingers around the base, feeling it twitch and swell in your grasp.
"Open." He commanded, voice rough, one hand tangling in your hair to guide you. You obeyed as your mouth happily enveloped the tip, your tongue swirling over the slit to taste the salty bead his pre-cum. He inhaled sharply, his hips jerking forward as you took more with your lips stretching around his girth. "Breathe through your nose first. Then... hold."
You nodded hollowing your cheeks as you sank deeper, the velvety length sliding over your tongue and filling your mouth until the head nudged the back of your throat. The water lapped at your shoulders, cool against the heat building between you. Tonowari's breath grew ragged, his free hand bracing against a rock as you bobbed slowly building the rhythm, saliva dripping down your chin to mix with the sea.
"Deeper." He urged pushing gently and you relaxed your throat, suppressing the gag as he breached you further, your nose brushing his skin. Lungs burning already yet you held, eyes watering but locked on his face, to the raw pleasure twisting his features and the way his abs clenched. Bubbles escaped your nose in tiny bursts but you stayed, your throat convulsing around him in rhythmic swallows that drew a guttural moan from him.
"Good girl... hold it." He panted, fingers tightening in your hair holding you flush.
The world narrowed to the delicious throb of him on your tongue, the ache in your chest, and the slick heat pooling between your thighs. When you finally pulled back gasping with strings of spit connecting you to his cock, he hauled you up crushing his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss, tasting himself on your lips.
"Again." He growled against your skin and you dove back, the lesson turning frantic. Deep throating him until stars burst behind your eyes, his praises filthy and encouraging. "That's it, take your Olo'eyktan's cock... learn to hold your breath for me."
Release came in waves as he spilled down your throat with a roar, your own fingers delving between your legs to chase the edge, both your bodies trembling in the water's embrace.
The next day dawned with Jake's return, his training shifting to the open lagoon where ilu and skimwings grazed the shallows. The memory of your kiss lingered like a brand, his eyes darker and hungrier as he watched you approach.
"Today, we work on riding since I think Tonowari polished your breathing lessons yesterday." He said, voice low, gesturing to a nearby ilu. "The possible bounces from waves, the rhythm, it's all about control. But I know a better way to prepare you."
You bit your lip, anticipation coiling tight. "Show me, Jake."
He led you to a secluded alcove hidden by overhanging fronds, he was shamelessly stripping you both with efficient hands. His body pressed to yours, his cock already rigid and massive, curving upward with promise.
"Straddle me." He instructed lying back on the soft sand, guiding your hips until your slick folds parted around his length.
How shameless he is now when he was resisting me the other day.
Yet you sank down slowly, inch by throbbing inch, a whimper escaping as he stretched you wide and filling you to the hilt.
"Fuck, so tight." He groaned, hands gripping your thighs. "Ride like you'd mount a skimwing. Bounce like thereâs massive waves, feel the motion. It'll teach you the ups and downs."
You obeyed rising and falling, the slap of skin echoing as your breasts jiggled with each descent. Pleasure blurred your thoughts turning you blissfully dumb with your golden eyes glazing, your mouth slack with moans as his cock hit that deep spot over and over.
He grinned up at you, feral and triumphant, his eyes fixed on your bouncing boobs, the soft flesh quivering enticingly.
"These... goddamn." He muttered sitting up to capture one nipple in his mouth sucking hard, his teeth teasingly grazing the peak.
The pull sent jolts straight to your core and you ground down harder, your fingers digging into the slight pudge of his belly. The warm and yielding give of it under your palms was a reminder of his lived strength and his maturity. It ignited something primal in you, your arousal spiking at the contrast to your own slender form, the way his tummy pressed against your abdomen with each thrust.
"Like that?" You gasped voice breathy and lost in the haze. "Your belly... feels so good against me."
"Yeah? Turns you on, huh?" He chuckled darkly thrusting up to meet you, the motion making you cry out. "Ride it harder, kid. Get dumb on this cock, let it bounce you like the waves."
His mouth switched to the other breast, lavishing it with wet obscene sucks while his hands kneaded your ass, spreading you wider for deeper penetration for his cock. You came undone, your walls clenching around him in shuddering release, his own following with a curse. His hot seed flooding you as you collapsed against his chest, the pudge a soft pillow beneath your body.
The encounters escalated in the days that followed, each man seeking you out under the guise of training. Their guilt a fragile thread against the pull of your cunning seduction.
With Tonowari, it was evenings by the fire pits where he'd pull you into shadowed alcoves, bending you over woven benches to fuck you slow and deep, his massive frame dwarfing yours.
"Quiet." He whispered, one hand over your mouth as he hilted inside, the other circling your clit. "Ronal can't know... but Eywa, you feel like sin."
You'd clench around him, milking his release, whispering back. "Use me, Oloâeyktan. I'm yours to teach."
His thrusts would grow erratic, his dialogues turning to grunts and pleas from the grip of your walls. "Take it all, little vixen... swallow every drop when I pull out."
Jake favored the midday hunts, dragging you into the underbrush where he'd pin you against trees with your legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded you relentlessly.
"You're gonna ruin me." He groaned nipping at your neck, the scars on his body pressing into your softness. "But fuck, this pussy... grips like it was made for me."
You'd scratch down his back, urging him on. "Harder, Jake. Show me how Toruk Makto claims his prize."
He'd laugh breathlessly, flipping you to all fours and mounting you like prey, the filthy sounds of flesh meeting flesh mingling with his praises. "Look at you creaming on my dick. Such a good girl, cum for your karyu."
One night, deep in the velvet darkness when the clan slumbered under a canopy of stars, a soft rustle at your marui's flap stirred you from restless dreams. You sat up, the air heavy with anticipation, your body already aching from the day's indulgences.
The flap parted and Jake slipped in first, his form silhouetted, eyes gleaming with familiar hunger. But before he could speak, another shadow followed, Tonowari. Broad and imposing yet freezing mid-step as his teal gaze met Jake's golden one.
Surprise etched their faces, a mirror of shock and dawning realization. Jake's tail lashed, hand hovering near his knife out of instinct while Tonowari's stance widened, protective yet conflicted.
"What theâ?" Jake started, voice a harsh whisper.
You bit your lip, a thrill racing through you and not fear but with wicked delight at the convergence.
Rising from your mat, the thin coverlet slipping to reveal the curve of your breast, you stepped between them, golden eyes flicking from one to the other. The air crackled thick with unspoken accusations but beneath it simmered the shared secret of their mutual fall to your temptations.
"Gentlemen." You purred, voice a silken thread. "No need to fight. There's... enough of me for both."
Your words hung an invitation laced with challenge as their gazes darkened, guilt fracturing under the weight of possibility.
Jake and Tonowari stood frozen, their massive forms filling the space, eyes locked in a storm of shock, rivalry, and reluctant understanding. The tension crackled but beneath it pulsed something deeper. It was a shared hunger that neither could deny, not after the weeks of stolen moments where you'd unraveled them both, piece by guilty piece.
Jake's golden eyes flicked to you then back to Tonowari, his tail coiling tight.
"This... this changes things." He muttered, voice rough with the edge of possession, his broad chest heaving.
Tonowari's teal gaze darkened, arms crossing over his scarred torso, the weight of his leadership warring with the fire you'd ignited.
"Indeed. But we speak of this to no one. Not Ronal. Not Neytiri." A pause, heavy and loaded, as their stares met yours. "She's ours now. We share... or we lose her."
You felt the thrill coil low in your belly, a sly smile curving your lips as you stepped closer, small and soft between their towering heights, your gold eyes gleaming with triumph. They were possessive beasts, these older warriors, their mates waiting in the shadows of their lives but you'd woven yourself into their desires too deeply.
Weeks passed in a delicate dance of secrecy and indulgence. When Tonowari claimed you in the hidden coves, his massive hands pinning you against slick rocks as he drove into you with measured, powerful strokes, Jake lurked nearby, ears sharp for any approaching footsteps.
"Ronal's asking for you." He whispered through the vines if she drew near, his voice a low rumble as he invented tales of council meetings or reef patrols to divert her suspicions.
In turn, when Jake pulled you into the dense foliage for his rougher lessons and hoisting you against a tree trunk, your legs locked around his waist as he rutted deep and unrelenting. Tonowari stood guard, his presence a silent shield.
Neytiri's sharp instincts had her circling closer those days, her questions probing like arrows but he'd deflect with calm authority.
"Jake's teaching the newcomer the ways of the ilu or scouting Mangkwan borders with her knowledge. It's for the clan's safety."
His words bought time but the real thrill came from the glimpses they stole of each other doing filthy things to you. The way Jake's eyes would burn watching Tonowari's thick length disappear into your mouth during a âbreathing exercise,â or how Tonowari's breath would hitch seeing Jake's hips snap against yours in the underbrush.
That voyeuristic spark grew, twisting their rivalry into something darker and more intoxicating. They'd linger in the shadows at first, silent witnesses to the defilement, their cocks hardening at the sight of your body arching under the other's touch.
Then came the turns, one holding your wrists while the other feasted between your thighs, their grunts mingling as they traded places, each praising the slick mess the previous had left.
"Look at her, dripping for us." Jake would growl, his fingers spreading you wide for Tonowari's inspection. "Our little secret, taking it so well."
And Tonowari, voice a deep timbre, would nod and sliding in slow. "She was made for this, for us to fill her again and again."
It evolved inevitably to simultaneity, their possessiveness yielding to the raw need to claim you together, bodies pressing in from all sides until you were lost in the heat of them. And now in the dim seclusion of your marui, the air thick with the musk of arousal and the distant crash of waves, it led to this.
You sandwiched between their colossal frames, so diminutive against their combined might, your form dwarfed by the breadth of their shoulders and the unyielding strength of their limbs.
Naked and trembling with anticipation, you perched on Jake's lap, his thighs like tree trunks beneath you, the coarse scars at their juncture tickling your inner thighs. His massive blue cock, rigid and veined, nestled hot against your folds and he gripped your hips with callused hands, grinding you back and forth in languid teasing slides. The friction built a slow burn, your slickness coating him with each pass dragging the swollen head over your clit until your breath hitched in soft whimpers.
Behind you Tonowari loomed, your back flush to his broad tattooed chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours like a living furnace. His lips captured yours in a deep sucking kiss, his tongue delving to tangle with yours, drawing out obscene wet sounds as he suckled greedily, itâs as if trying to devour your very essence.
One of his enormous hands roamed upward cupping the soft weight of your breast, thumb circling the hardened nipple in firm rolling presses that sent jolts straight to your core.
"Mhm, so responsive." He murmured against your mouth, voice a gravelly purr that vibrated through you. "These nipples beg for my touch, don't they yawne?"
You arched into his palm moaning into the kiss, the dual sensations of Jake's grinding insistence below and Tonowari's possessive fondling above overwhelming your senses, the air humming with the salty tang of the sea and the headier scent of your shared desire.
They manhandled you with effortless strength, their hands everywhere, shifting your body like a cherished toy. Jake's fingers dug into your waist, lifting you briefly before settling you onto all fours on the soft sleeping mat, the woven fibers cradling your knees and palms.
You faced Tonowari now, his towering form kneeling before you, that huge teal cock jutting proudly from his hips thatâs thick as your wrist, the length curving slightly and the flared head glistening with anticipation.
Behind you Jake positioned himself, his knees bracketing your thighs, the heat of his body a wall at your back. You felt the nudge of his blue massive cock against your entrance, the mushroom tip tapping insistently at your swollen clit, each light smack sending sparks up your spine, your hips twitching involuntarily.
"Open your mouth, yawne." Tonowari commanded, his voice laced with dark hunger, one hand fisting the base of his shaft as he leaned closer.
You obeyed eagerly, parting your lips and extending your tongue flat and inviting, a soft purr rumbling from your throat at the sight of him so close and so ready. He tapped the velvety head against your waiting tongue, the salty bead of pre-cum smearing across the pink muscle and you lapped at it greedily, the vibration of your purr drawing a deep guttural groan from his chest.
"Fuck, that's it... such eager little mouth." His free hand threaded into your hair, guiding you forward as Jake with a wicked grin splitting his face, aligned himself fully.
In one fluid powerful thrust, Jake plunged his cock into your walls, the stretch immediate and exquisite, your body yielding to his girth with a wet welcoming squelch. You cried out around the tip of Tonowari's length, the sound muffled as he pushed forward, filling your mouth inch by throbbing inch.
The sight was utterly obscene, a vision that made their pulses race.
Your throat bulging visibly with the outline of Tonowari's cock as he sank deeper, your lips stretched taut around him. Below, your pussy walls clenched visibly around Jake's invading cock, the delicate folds parting wide and your tummy distending slightly with the depth he reached, pressing against that sensitive bundle inside.
Jake's hips snapped forward in a steady rhythm, each plunge drawing out slick sounds, his balls slapping against your clit with every hilt.
"Our greedy little baby." He rasped, voice thick with lust, one hand sliding around to rub firm circles over your clit, the pad of his thumb slick with your arousal. "Needing two cocks to satisfy her equally greedy cunt... look at you, taking us both like you were born for it."
The pressure on your clit built the coil tighter, your walls fluttering around him and you mewled around Tonowari's length, the vibration making him buck deeper with his groans echoing off the walls.
Tonowari's teal eyes bored into yours, dark with possessive fire, his hips rolling in shallow thrusts that matched Jake's pace.
"You like older men lusting over you like this, yawne?" He growled, fingers tightening in your hair, holding you steady as he fed you more of his cock. "Using your delicious body like this, stretching every hole and marking you as ours?"
His words washed over you, filthy and affirming, stoking the fire in your veins. You nodded as best you could, tongue swirling around the underside of his cock, saliva dripping down your chin in messy rivulets. Your purrs turning to desperate hums as Jake's rubbing intensified, his cock dragging against your inner walls with lewd precision.
The rhythm built drawn out and relentless, their bodies moving in sync now with Jake's deep grinding thrusts from behind and Tonowari's controlled slides into your throat. Sweat beaded on their skin, mixing with the humid air, the marui filled with the symphony of flesh meeting flesh, your muffled moans and their ragged breaths.
Jake's free hand gripped your hip, pulling you back onto him harder, the obscene bulge in your belly more pronounced with each plunge.
"Feel that? That's me deep inside, claiming every inch." He panted, his thumb flicking your clit faster, the oversensitivity making your thighs quake.
Tonowari watched it all, his gaze flicking between your stretched lips and the way your body rocked between them, a low chuckle rumbling from him. "She's creaming on you, Sully... hear that wet slap? Our yawne's so full, so perfect."
You hollowed your cheeks sucking harder, your mewls vibrating along his length as the pleasure crested. Jake's cock pistoning faster, the base of his cock beginning to form a creamy white ring from your frothing arousal, the slick evidence of your need coating him in a glossy sheen.
"Fuck, gonna breed you." Jake snarled, his thrusts turning erratic, the hand on your clit pressing down in firm insistent strokes. "Fill this tight pussy up, keep every drop inside where it belongs."
He buried himself to the hilt one final time, a growl tearing from his throat as he came in hot spurts flooding your depths, his cock pulsing with each release. You clenched around him milking him dry, the sensation pushing you over the edge as your orgasm crashed through you in waves. Your body shuddering, mewling loudly around Tonowari as stars burst behind your eyes.
He followed seconds later, groaning your name like a prayer, his cock swelling in your throat before spilling thick ropes down your swallowing passage.
"Take it all, yawne... every bit for you." He urged holding you flush until you gasped for air, pulling back with a wet pop, strings of saliva and seed connecting you still.
Jake eased out slowly, a satisfied groan escaping him as he watched his creamy cum ooze from your well-used entrance, thick and pearlescent, coating your pussy lips in a lewd glaze. He pressed two fingers against your folds, pushing the essence back inside, sealing it with a thumb over your clit.
"Stay put baby... let it take."
They collapsed around you then, their affections a sure unyielding thing, no longer caring for the risks of discovery. Ronal's suspicions or Neytiri's watchful eyes be damned.
Jake pulled you into his chest, his slight pudge a comforting press against your side, while Tonowari spooned from behind, his arm draping possessively over your waist. You grinned in the afterglow nestled between them, your cunning heart swelling with victory.
You always got what you wanted, just like with Quaritch.
Seducing the older recom under your former Tsahikâs nose. His towering form rutting into you in stolen moments amid the Mangkwan camps, the thrill of betrayal heightening every thrust until Varang caught you, her rage a storm of fury.
But Quaritch, ever the opportunist, had freed you in the chaos, whispering promises as he let you slip away from her wrath.
"I'll finish Sully first then find you, darlin'." He growled, eyes burning with unfinished business.
He didn't know how soon he'd stumble upon you again but tangled in the arms of these two Na'vi warriors and one of them being the one heâs hunting.
And they had no inkling that this was why you'd fled the Mangkwans, seeking uturu here. Not just for survival, but to weave your web anew, drawing older powerful men into your orbit like moths to flame.
I always get what I want.
Your golden eyes fluttered shut, sated and scheming as their breaths evened out around you, the night wrapping you all in secretive bliss as you nuzzled deeper into their hold.
pairings: aged up neteyam x mangkwan female reader
notes: obsessed neteyam, gradual dark neteyam, reader is varangâs mean younger sister, manipulation, angst/comfort, miscommunication trope, forbidden lovers, neteyam is a literal yearner, reader is realistic, love at first sight for neteyam, selective amnesia, reader is disgusted by neteyamâs demon blood, betrayal, smut & suggestive themes, p in v sex, themes of noncon & dubcon, breeding, spitting, tummy bulge, big dick neteyam.
word count: 34.5k (i literally have no brain juice anymore)
prompt: from the moment you had your blade pressed against his neck, all he could think of was how beautiful you are. he does not care if youâre a mangkwan and he does not care if you are disgusted by him, you are what he wants even if he has to go to extreme lengths to get you.
The dense canopy of Pandora's forest filtered the midday sun into dappled shafts of light casting shifting patterns on the undergrowth as Neteyam soared above on his ikran. His form honed by years of vigilant scouting, blended seamlessly with the creature's sleek blue hide, his golden eyes scanning the perimeters of Omatikaya territory with unwavering focus. The wind whipped through his braided hair carrying the earthy scent of moss and distant rain but today, an unfamiliar tension hummed in the air like Eywa herself was holding her breath.
A flicker of movement below caught his sharp gaze. A cluster of Na'vi figures darting through the underbrush, their movements predatory and coordinated. He signaled his ikran with a subtle shift of his thighs and the beast banked sharply, descending in a controlled spiral toward a concealed ledge. Wings folded with a soft rustle as he dismounted, his bare feet silent on the mossy ground. Crouching behind a thick fern and bow already in hand, Neteyam peered through the leaves, his heart steady but alert.
What he witnessed chilled him.
A raiding party from the Mangkwan clan of fierce warriors painted in ritualistic ash, their bodies smeared with the dark residue of volcanic soil that marked their savage tradition. They had ambushed a small group of Olangi travelers. The Olangi clan, a peaceful foragers from a neighboring grove, were outnumbered and overwhelmed, their pleas echoing faintly through the trees. The Mangkwans moved with brutal efficiency, spears glinting as they subdued their prey but it was the figure at the center that seized Neteyam's breath.
You.
Leading the raid with an air of unchallenged authority, your form cut an intoxicating silhouette against the chaos. Ash coated your skin like a second hide, obscuring the true hue beneath in swirling patterns that accentuated the sharp angles of your jaw. Even veiled in grime, your beauty pierced through with full lips curved in a predatory smile and eyes like smoldering embers, scanning the fray with calculated glee. Your body was clad in minimal hides, a beaded top that strained against the soft perky swell of your breasts, rising and falling with each commanding breath, and a loincloth that hugged the firm curve of your hips revealing toned legs braced for action.
Neteyam found himself entranced, curiosity gnawing at him. What lay under that ash? Smooth azure skin perhaps, glowing with the vitality of your clan or something rarer, more alluring?
But beauty masked cruelty.
He watched as you circled a kneeling Olangi male, his kuru held taut by one of your warriors.
The victim's pleas tumbled out in desperate sobs. "Please, we mean no harm. Eywa, mercy!"
Your laughter rang out, mean and cutting, a sharp trill that sliced through the air like a blade. "Your goddess has no dominion here."
It wasn't joyous, it was mocking and laced with sadistic delight as you raised your obsidian knife, the edge catching the light. The Mangkwans deferred to you utterly, their eyes on you as if you were their spiritual guide yet Neteyam knew you werenât the clanâs leader.
During a prior scouting run with his father, Jake had pointed out Varang, the true TsahĂŹk of the Mangkwans. Tall and imposing with an aura of unyielding command. That wasn't you. So who were you? Varang's kin, perhaps her younger sister, wielding influence through blood ties? Or a favored enforcer, a prized weapon in her arsenal? The mystery only deepened his fixation, his gaze lingering on the way your ash-streaked arms flexed, muscles coiling like vines ready to strike.
The Olangi's kuru dangled vulnerably, the warrior presenting it for your ritual severing. A fate worse than death, severing one's bond with Eywa. Neteyam's jaw tightened, a surge of protectiveness igniting in his chest and he couldn't stand by. Nocking an arrow with fluid precision, he drew back the bowstring with the familiar creak grounding him. His aim was true, released with a whisper, the shaft flew straight and embedding in the hand of the Mangkwan holding the kuru. The warrior yelped dropping the kuru as blood welled while the Olangi collapsed in shock.
You hissed sharply in a venomous sound that reverberated through the trees, your head snapping toward the underbrush where the arrow had originated. Your ember eyes narrowed, piercing the foliage as if you could will the shadows to part. Though the leaves concealed him, your stare felt like it locked onto his golden ones, a challenge unspoken.
Neteyam held his breath, pulse thundering in his ears.
"How amusing." You chuckled lowly, the sound dripping with dark amusement a thrill of the hunt sparking in your veins, your lips twisting into a smirk that revealed sharp canines.
Shifting your attention, you glanced at the injured warrior clutching his hand, pain etching his features.
"Tend to that." You dismissed him with a wave of your hand, voice cool and authoritative boredom masking your intrigue.
No time for weakness in my ranks.
Grinning to yourself, a secretive curve of your mouth that hinted at games yet to play, you barked orders to your group. "Retreat! Take what we came for."
The Mangkwans obeyed instantly, their weaponâs clubs thudding against Olangi skulls to knock them unconscious, hands snatching woven satchels of herbs, glowing crystals, and carved totems as prizes of the raid. They melted into the forest like smoke but you lingered a moment, casting one final lingering look toward Neteyam's hiding spot. Your smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with promise of a predator sensing prey nearby before you turned, your form vanishing into the green.
Neteyam exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a heartbeat, muscles uncoiling as relief washed over him. Slumping against the fern, he berated his caution for being too close and too reckless. The raid's echoes faded, leaving only the rustle of leaves.
Then, cold steel kissed his throat.
His golden eyes flew open, meeting yours up close. Sadistic glee swirling in their depths like storm clouds over the sea. You had circled silently, a shadow among shadows, your blade now pressed under his chin, tilting his head back against the earth. The ash on your face cracked slightly with your predatory smile, revealing glimpses of smoother skin beneath, flushed with exertion.
The bow and arrows lay discarded beside him, the telltale fletching matching the one that embedded in your warrior's hand.
"Nice shot, forest boy." You purred, voice laced with mocking admiration and excitement bubbling beneath the snarl, your breath warm against his skin. "Had a good time interrupting my fun?"
He didn't answer, lips pressed into a thin line, inwardly cursing his lapse. How had you slipped past? His body tensed beneath you, but he held still, assessing.
You tsked, a sharp disappointed sound, your snarl twisting your features as you surged forward. With effortless strength, you pinned him to the ground, knee digging into his abdomen, the blade angling deeper. Its tip pricking his flesh just enough to draw a thin bead of blood. The metallic tang mingled with the forest's humidity, your weight settling over him dominantly, thighs clamping his waist in a vise of muscle and heat.
From this vantage, you were breathtaking.
The ash smeared across your cheeks like war paint but proximity unveiled nuances. The elegant slope of your nose, the way your braids framed your face, swaying with each controlled breath. Your body pressed against his firm one, soft perky breasts heaving through the scant hide while your thighs hugged him possessively, the firm ridges of muscle flexing. The loincloth rode up slightly in the struggle, teasing the shadowed juncture between your legs, a forbidden glimpse that stirred something primal in him.
Neteyam's gaze betrayed him, trailing downward despite the danger. Over the generous curve of your breasts, nipples faintly outlined against the fabric from the adrenaline rush, then to the powerful expanse of your thighs gripping him like you owned him already.
You hissed again, low and threatening as irritation flared hot in your being, the sound vibrating through your chest as you caught his wandering eyes. Leaning in closer, blade steady, your face hovered inches from his. "I'll cut your throat for that."
He stared up at you dazed, the world narrowing to the beauty before him. The cruel spark in your eyes, the subtle sheen of sweat tracing a path down your neck.
Words escaped him before he could cage them, voice rough with unintended awe. "You're beautiful."
Your eyes widened fractionally, the sadistic gleam flickering with surprise as an unwelcome heat coiled low despite yourself but you didn't falter. The blade nicked deeper against his skin, a warning as you ground your hips down experimentally, testing his resolve.
"Flattery won't save you, skxawng." You snarled, though your voice held a husky edge, curiosity warring with cruelty.
The pressure of your body against his sent unwelcome sparks through both of you, his cock twitching involuntarily beneath the confines of his own coverings, your breath hitching as you felt it.
Neteyam's hands, bound by instinct not to fight yet, flexed at his sides, golden eyes locked on yours now, unflinching. The forest seemed to hold its breath around you, the distant calls of ikran fading into irrelevance. He could smell the ash on you, mingled with the wild scent of your skin, earthy and intoxicating.
"Why do they follow you like that?" He asked, voice steady despite the blade, deflecting while his mind raced.
Attraction bloomed dark and insistent in him, a shadow creeping over his usual honor. You weren't just beautiful, you were a storm and he found himself drawn to the eye.
You laughed then, a mean throaty sound that vibrated against him, amusement laced with dark promise, tilting your head to study him like prey. "Maybe you're not as foolish as you look."
Your free hand trailed down his chest, nails scraping lightly over his toned abdomen, feeling the ridges of muscle tense. The touch was teasing and cruel, testing boundaries that doesnât seem to exist anymore. Your breasts brushed his chest with the movement, soft and enticing, the ash transferring in faint streaks to his skin.
He swallowed hard, your blade's edge a razor reminder, but his body betrayed him, hips shifting subtly upward, seeking more friction.
"Let me go." He murmured, though it lacked conviction as desire thread through the plea, eyes darkening as they traced the curve of your hip, the way your loincloth shifted, hinting at the heat of your cunt beneath.
"And miss this?" You countered, voice dripping with sadistic playfulness as the thrill of power surged, pressing the blade just enough to draw another drop of blood.
But your eyes, those ember depths, held his. A challenge, an invitation to the darkness you both sensed brewing. The raid's adrenaline still pumped through your veins, mingling with this unexpected tension, your thighs tightening around him as if to claim victory.
Neteyam's breath came ragged now, the softness of your form contrasting the hardness of your intent, igniting a fire he hadn't anticipated. In that moment, amidst the ash and threat, the future Olo'eyktan's resolve cracked, a darker hunger awakening for the woman who could lead with cruelty and beauty in equal measure. The forest watched, silent witness to the spark that could consume you both.
"Who are you?" He repeated, his voice a low rumble with frustration edged in fascination, refusing to yield even as the steel bit into his skin. "Why do they follow you?"
You tilted your head slowly, braids swaying like dark serpents against your ash-smeared shoulders, your expression an enigma. Your eyes were narrowed to slits, unreadable as the depths of a hidden cenote. The motion caused your torso to shift, the beaded strands of your top grazing his chest once again with a whisper of friction, your soft curves molding briefly against the hard planes of his warrior's build.
After a deliberate pause, you leaned in closer, lips parting to reveal the edge of your teeth.
"I am Varang's younger sister." You murmured, voice smooth as polished obsidian, a hint of pride sharpening the words. "Her Tsakarem."
The revelation hung between you like a taut bowstring as Neteyam's mind raced.
Tsakarem, the heir apparent, groomed to ascend if fate claimed Varang. High standing indeed, woven into the spiritual fabric of the Mangkwan with threads of power and ritual. Your authority made sense now, the way your warriors had deferred, eyes alight with reverence. But it also sparked unwelcome questions in him. Were you already mated? Bound in tsaheylu to some brutal consort, your being entwined with another?
A surge of fury clawed at his chest but he shoved it down, jaw clenching as he focused on the way your thighs still gripped his sides, their toned length flexing with subtle control. Your eyes flicked to his face, catching the flicker of turmoil, and you pressed the knife deeper, the edge singing against his flesh as the thrill of dominance coursed through you.
"What clan are you from?" You demanded, your breath ghosting over his cheek, warm and laced with the metallic tang of anticipation.
"Omatikaya." He answered, voice steady despite the sting, his gaze never leaving yours, golden depths locking with yours.
You threw your head back and laughed, the sound rich and mocking, echoing through the undergrowth.
"Oh, the clan of that tawtute turned Na'vi?" You sneered, lowering your face again, lips curling in contempt. "The clan of Toruk Makto?"
"He's my father." Neteyam replied, a quiet defiance threading his tone pride warring with the vulnerability of your proximity, his hands twitching at his sides, resisting the urge to reach up and trace the curve of your jaw.
Your grin widened, sharp and predatory, teeth flashing as you savored the revelation, a spark of malicious delight igniting. The expression transformed your features, cheekbones sharpening and full lips stretching over a sadistic curve making you appear even more alluring in your cruelty.
"Ah, so you're a filthy sky demon then." You hissed, voice dripping with revulsion, loathing twisting like a vine in your gut at his unpure lineage. "How disgusting."
His heart clenched painfully at the look in your eyes.
Pure unfiltered disgust as if he were tainted by his human heritage, unworthy of the ground you straddled. It stung deeper than the blade, a rejection that fueled the shadows creeping into his soul. Yet even as pain lanced through him, he couldn't tear his gaze from the line of your neck, the way sweat beaded along your throat, tracing a path down to the valley between your heaving chest.
"What is your name?" You pressed, the knife steady, your free hand now resting on his shoulder, nails digging in just enough to anchor him, curiosity sharpening your focus amid the hate.
"Neteyam." He said simply, the word escaping like a confession, resignation mingling with an undercurrent of longing.
You laughed again, meaner this time, a throaty bark that vibrated through your core.
"Neteyam, the filthy sky demon." You mocked, rolling the name on your tongue like a curse. "My sister would be pleased that I bring the kuru of Toruk Makto's son before her."
Your eyes gleamed with dark promise, imagining the trophy, his kuru severed, a symbol of Mangkwan supremacy dangling in your marui.
Panic flickered in Neteyam's chest but it warred with an unwillingness to harm you. If he fought back now, twisting free and overpowering you, his hands might mar that flawless skin, leave bruises on your arms or that captivating face. Eywa, he wished for a disturbance, anything to shatter this moment without violence. As if the Great Mother heard his silent plea, the air stirred with the powerful beat of wings slicing through the canopy, followed by urgent voices calling his name, echoing from above.
"Neteyam! Where are you?" Lo'ak's shout cut through the trees laced with worry, while Jake's deeper timbre joined in, commanding and steady.
Relief nearly escaped him in a breath but he held it, watching your reaction.
You heard it too. The approaching ikran, the unmistakable cadence of Omatikaya warriors. A snarl ripped from your throat, low and feral frustration boiling over like lava, your beautiful features twisting into a mask of fury.
"Interrupt me again next time." You growled, leaning down until your lips nearly brushed his ear, voice a venomous whisper rage simmering beneath the threat. "And I'll have your kuru hanging from my marui."
With a fluid motion, you dismounted him, your thighs releasing their grip, leaving a ghost of warmth where they'd clamped. Your body uncoiled, ash flaking from your limbs as you rose, knife still clutched in your fist. You shot him one last glare, hateful and disgusted, eyes raking over him as if committing his form to memory for future vengeance. Then without another word, you melted into the foliage, your form vanishing into the green shadows with the silent prowess of a seasoned hunter.
Neteyam lay there for a moment, staring at the canopy above, the imprint of your weight lingering on his hips like a brand. He missed it already, the press of your curves, the dangerous allure of your scent. A low groan escaped him as he shifted, arousal evident in the insistent throb beneath his loincloth, a betrayal of his body's response to your dominance.
Shaking his head to clear the haze, he sat up slowly, snatching his bow and arrows to drape across his lap, concealing the evidence of his desire.
"Bro, are you okay?" Lo'ak's voice broke the silence first, crashing through the underbrush with his usual reckless energy.
He skidded to a halt beside Neteyam, tail flicking in concern, while Jake approached more methodically, his gaze sweeping over the unconscious Olangi people sprawled nearby, their forms battered and queues mercifully intact.
"Yeah." Neteyam replied curtly, forcing composure into his tone as he adjusted his position, rising to his feet with deliberate slowness.
Jake turned to them, his broad frame casting a long shadow, eyes sharp with paternal scrutiny.
"What happened here?" He asked, voice gravelly worry etching lines around his eyes.
"Mangkwans raided the Olangi." Neteyam explained, slinging his bow over his shoulder, the wood cool against his heated skin. "They were about to cut off their kurus. I intervened from the brush, shot an arrow to stop it."
He kept the details sparse, omitting the blade at his throat and the intoxicating weight of you atop him.
Jake tensed visibly, muscles coiling under his blue skin like a predator sensing threat. "Who was leading the raid? Varang?"
Neteyam's mind flashed to your face, those ember eyes, the cruel tilt of your lips, the ash-veiled beauty that haunted him already.
"No." He said, voice even a shadow of obsession stirring. "It's her sister. The Tsakarem."
Jake and Lo'ak whipped their heads toward him in unison, surprise widening their expressions.
"You saw her?" Lo'ak blurted, brows shooting up intrigue sparking in his mischievous gaze.
Neteyam nodded once, curt and evasive.
He'd done far more than see you. He felt you, he breathed you but those truths stayed buried, coiling dark in his chest like a secret vow.
"Let's move." Jake commanded, already kneeling to check on the nearest Olangi, his hands gentle as he assessed wounds. "We need to help them. Bring them back to Omatikaya."
Neteyam inclined his head in agreement but as they gathered the dazed travelers by supporting limp arms and murmuring reassurances, his gaze drifted to the spot where you'd vanished. The undergrowth seemed to whisper your being, a siren call pulling at the edges of his honor. The future Olo'eyktan felt the first true fracture in his resolve, a darkness blooming not from duty, but from the cruel beauty who'd marked him without a touch.
As ikran cries heralded their departure, he mounted his own bond-beast last, the wind carrying him homeward yet his thoughts lingered in the ash-scented wilds, chasing the ghost of your snarl.
Meanwhile, you sprinted through the tangled roots and bioluminescent vines, heart pounding with a mix of fury and something sharper, more unsettling. The forest blurred around you, the towering trees with bark etched like ancient scars turned into the familiar scorched ones but your mind replayed the encounter.
Those golden eyes staring up at you unafraid, calling you beautiful amid the threat. Disgusting sky demon, you reminded yourself, snarling under your breath revulsion clashing with an unwelcome curiosity.
Your legs pumped with relentless energy, thighs burning from the raid and the brief wrestle, the loincloth chafing against sweat-slicked skin. Ash flaked from your arms as you vaulted a fallen log, landing with cat-like poise, your breaths coming in sharp bursts that made your chest ache.
Why had you let him live?
The question gnawed at you even as your marui came into view. Woven from volcanic fibers, perched on stilts over a steaming pool. Warriors milled about, tending stolen goods such as shimmering crystals piled in nets and herbs bundled for Varang's rituals. You slowed, straightening your top where beads had shifted, exposing a sliver of your midriff, the soft undercurve of your breasts rising with each calming inhale.
Your sister's voice called from within, authoritative and probing but you waved it off, slipping inside to wash the encounter away.
Water from a nearby basin splashed over your face, rinsing rivulets of ash to reveal the true azure of your skin, freckled with faint glowing spots that danced like stars under the dim light. You stared at your reflection in the rippling surface, cheekbones flushed from exertion, lips still curved in residual disdain, eyes smoldering with unresolved fire.
Neteyam.
The name echoed, stirring a heat you crushed down. He was the enemy, a filthy intruder on your domain. Yet as you traced a finger along the scar on your palm from past battles, you couldn't shake the memory of his body beneath yours, stirring instincts you hadn't anticipated.
Varang entered then, her taller frame filling the entrance, eyes narrowing at your disheveled state.
"Little tsmuke, the raidâsuccess?" She asked, voice like grinding stone, concern veiled in command.
You met her gaze, forcing a smirk. "More than. We took what we needed."
Omitting the details, the blade, the almost-kill.
She nodded satisfied but you turned away, mind already plotting the next border push. Deep down, though, a thread of anticipation wove through your thoughts.
Would those golden eyes seek you again?
The Tsakarem of Mangkwan didn't yield to weakness but this sky demon had cracked something open in you, a fissure where darkness and desire might mingle unchecked.
The air in the Tsahik's marui hung heavy with the scent of healing herbs, bitter yarrow and soothing aloe mingling in the steam rising from clay bowls.
Neteyam sat rigidly on a woven mat, his broad shoulders tense beneath the dim glow of suspended lanterns that cast flickering shadows across the curved walls of pandora vines. The shallow nick on his neck throbbed faintly, a reminder of your blade's kiss but it was nothing compared to the deeper ache gnawing at his core.
His grandmother Mo'at, the revered Tsahik, was occupied elsewhere in the communal space, her hands deftly tending to the battered Olangi refugees who huddled in clusters, their bioluminescent markings dimmed by exhaustion and pain. Murmurs of gratitude and soft chants filled the air as she moved among them as a pillar of calm authority.
Instead, it was Alayni who attended to him, the young healer-in-training whose gentle presence had long been a fixture in his life.
She knelt before him, her slender fingers working with practiced care, dabbing a cool poultice onto the wound. Alayni was pretty in a soft unassuming way, her eyes a warm amber that often darted shyly from beneath long lashes. Her braids were neatly bound with feathers, signifying her devotion to the healing arts and her movements were fluid, almost reverent, as she applied the salve.
She had always been kind to him.
Slipping morsels of fresh fruit into his training satchel when he pushed himself too hard under the midday sun or lingering after lessons to ask about his day with a blush coloring her cheeks. His parents adored her, Neytiri saw in her the quiet strength of a future Tsahik while Jake appreciated her steadiness, a counterbalance to the chaos of their family. She was one of the potential mates they urged him to consider, especially now, with his ascension to Olo'eyktan looming in just a year.
Neteyam had entertained the idea once.
Alayni would make a good mate. Loyal, nurturing, her shyness a balm to his burdens. She had expressed her interest subtly but persistently. A lingering touch during healings, invitations to walk the glowing paths at dusk, her voice soft hope trembling in every syllable as she suggested they share a meal by the river. He had even agreed a few times, out of duty, their conversations polite but devoid of the spark that now eluded him entirely.
But that was before you. Before the raid, before your ash-streaked form had pinned him down, your eyes burning with contempt that only fueled the fire in his blood.
Alayni was pretty, yes, but she paled against the vision of you. Your fierce beauty a storm to her gentle breeze, your cruelty a magnet to his unraveling restraint. He wanted you with a ferocity that bordered on madness, even after mere moments in your presence. He craved you despite the disgust twisting your lips when you spat "filthy sky demon," he craved you despite the enmity of your clans carving chasms between you. You were the enemy, a Mangkwan Tsakarem destined to lead raids that spilled Omatikaya blood, yet the thought of your thighs straddling him, your blade at his throat, consumed him like a fever.
It was absurd, this pull. A betrayal of everything he stood for as the future leader but he couldn't deny it. His heart raced at the memory of your scent and his body stirred unbidden, a low heat pooling in his core.
As Alayni's fingers brushed the edge of the wound, her touch feather-light and caring, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Her amber eyes searched his golden ones, wide with unspoken affection a flicker of longing softening her features. But Neteyam kept his stare fixed on the far wall, where woven tapestries depicted Eywa's embrace, his jaw set in quiet detachment.
His mind wandered relentlessly to you.
The curve of your hips as you dismounted, the snarl that bared your teeth, the way your laughter had vibrated through him like a challenge. How could he see you again? Touch you? The forest was vast, borders tense, but he would find a way. Scout the edges, risk the shadows, anything to glimpse that fire once more.
"There." Alayni murmured finally, tying off a thin strip of leaf bandage with delicate precision satisfaction warming her voice. Her hand lingered, sliding down to caress his arm in a gesture of concern, her palm warm against the corded muscle of his bicep. "Are you alright, Neteyam? That cut... it could have been worse."
Her fingers traced a subtle path, innocent yet hopeful, her breath catching slightly as she awaited his response. In her mind, visions danced. In a year, when Jake stepped down, she could be at his side, Tsahik to his Olo'eyktan, their kurus entwining in tsaheylu under the Tree of Souls. The thought made her pulse quicken, a giddy flutter in her chest.
Neteyam nodded curtly, his voice flat and dismissive impatience edging his tone as he rose to his feet, the mat rustling beneath him. "I'm fine. Thank you, Alayni."
He didn't meet her eyes, already turning toward the entrance, the weight of his bow slung across his back a familiar anchor.
"Neteyam." She called out softly standing as well, her form silhouetted against the herbal steam, disappointment tinged with persistence. "Do you want to take a walk later? The glowworms by the falls are blooming. I thought... we could talk."
Her hands clasped together, twisting nervously, the beads on her wrists clinking like a plea.
He paused at the flap of the marui, the humid air of the village filtering in, carrying the distant calls of ikran. His mother would beam if he accepted, see it as progress toward the merging they craved. But today, the will eluded him, drowned out by the echo of your mocking laugh.
"I have something to do." He replied over his shoulder, the words clipped regret buried under resolve.
"Oh." She echoed faintly, the syllable hanging like a wilted petal, a quiet hurt settling in her posture as she watched him go.
Neteyam stepped into the bustling heart of the Omatikaya village, the high trees weaving a cathedral of leaves overhead, but his thoughts plotted a solitary path. He would scout the borders at dawn, venture closer to Mangkwan lands than wisdom allowed. Risk be damned, he needed to see you again, to unravel the enigma that had ensnared him.
The next day dawned with a veil of mist clinging to the forest floor, the air crisp and alive with the symphony of awakening life.
Neteyam mounted his ikran early, the creature's leathery wings cutting through the canopy as they soared toward the contested fringes. His heart thudded with anticipation, golden eyes scanning the terrain below, rivers snaking like veins, clusters of ferns hiding potential threats.
Hours passed in fruitless search. There were no raiding parties, no ash-painted warriors, only the indifferent pulse of Eywa's domain. Disappointment settled heavy in his chest, a dull ache as he urged his ikran toward home, the wind whipping his braids like accusations of folly.
Just as resignation crept in, a flash of color caught his eye. A solitary figure by the river's bend, nestled in a sun-dappled clearing. His breath hitched, deep in his gut he knew it was you.
With a sharp command, he guided the ikran into a steep dive, landing silently in a thicket nearby, the beast's talons sinking into moss without a sound. Dismounting swiftly, Neteyam crept forward, his warrior's grace muting his steps, excitement pounding in his veins like war drums. The underbrush parted under his careful hands, leaves whispering secrets as he approached, heart racing with a mix of thrill and trepidation.
There you were, reclining on a bed of soft moss beside the lazily flowing river, the water's gentle murmur a lullaby. Sleep had claimed you, your body lax in repose, unguarded in a way that stole the air from his lungs.
For the first time, your face was bare, no war paint or ash to veil your features, washed clean by the river's touch. Your true azure skin gleamed under the filtered sunlight, smooth and unmarred, dotted with subtle bioluminescent freckles that shimmered like scattered stars across your high cheekbones and the bridge of your nose. Your lips, full and slightly parted, curved in the faintest hint of relaxation, a stark contrast to the snarls he remembered. Long lashes fanned against your lids, framing eyes hidden now but etched in his memory as embers of defiance. Strands of your dark hair, freed from the raid's bindings, cascaded over the moss like midnight rivers, framing the arch of your neck.
You were breathtaking, vulnerability wrapping around your fierce beauty like a fragile shroud. Out here, alone, with only the river as sentinel, you seemed almost ethereal. Chest rising and falling in slow even rhythms, the soft swell of your breasts straining gently against the thin weave of your top with each breath. No armor, no blade in hand, just you exposed to the world, to him. Anyone could stumble upon you like this. A hunter, a rival, a man like him and do... something.
The thought sent fury through Neteyam, his gaze lingering, possessive and hungry. His eyes trailed downward, drinking in the rest of you with unrestrained fervor.
Your arms were folded loosely beneath your head, elbows bent, revealing the toned length of your limbs, muscles subtly defined from years of wielding weapons and commanding warriors. The curve of your waist dipped invitingly where your top rode up slightly, exposing a sliver of taut midriff, the skin there flawless and warm-toned, inviting touch. Your legs stretched out languidly, one knee bent in sleep, the other straight, showcasing the powerful thighs that had pinned him so effectively, now relaxed, their azure expanse glowing faintly in the light. The loincloth rode high on your hips, simple yet accentuating the flare of your form, the fabric clinging to the subtle contours beneath.
Every inch of you spoke of strength wrapped in allure, a siren in repose, and Neteyam's breath grew shallow, his body responding with a surge of heat, fists clenching at his sides to restrain the urge to close the distance.
You stirred faintly in your slumber, a soft sigh escaping your lips as a breeze rustled the leaves overhead but your eyes remained closed, lost in dreams unknown.
Neteyam lowered himself silently onto the moss beside you, the soft earth yielding under his weight like a conspirator in his forbidden vigil. The river's gentle current whispered nearby, a serene counterpoint to the storm raging within him.
His golden eyes, sharp and unyielding, fixed first on the rise and fall of your chest then drifted upward to your face. His gaze lingered on those parted lips, plush and inviting, a stark vulnerability amid your warrior's form. They begged to be claimed and the thought sent a shiver through his frame, his tail flicking restlessly behind him.
Lower still, his eyes traced the delicate beaded necklace top that clung to your torso, the strands of iridescent woven fibers draping just enough to shield the peaks of your breasts from full view. Yet the swell of them was evident, they were firm and rounded, rising with each breath in a rhythm that mesmerized him, the azure curves peeking teasingly at the edges where the beads shifted. They were soft yet perky, a contradiction to the ferocity he knew you wielded and he imagined their weight in his palms, the warmth and plushness yielding under his touch.
Further down, the simple loincloth of supple hide and vines rested high on your hips, concealing the most intimate sanctum of your body, the place he yearned to uncover as selfish curiosity burned in him.
What secrets lay beneath that barrier?
The smooth contours of your mound, perhaps flushed with the same azure hue, the delicate folds he fantasized would glisten with your essence. He wondered at the scent. Maybe it would be musky and wild, like the forest after rain mingled with your unique fire and the taste? Maybe it would be sweet and tangy on his tongue, a forbidden nectar that would drive him to madness. His breath hitched, a low heat coiling in his abdomen as he shifted closer, the air between you thickening with unspoken tension.
Unable to resist any longer, Neteyam extended a hand, his callused fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that belied the darkness creeping into his soul. Your skin was impossibly soft there, like the finest moss under moonlight, and as he caressed the curve of your face, you nuzzled into his palm instinctively, a sleepy murmur escaping your lips.
The simple act undid him, it was a glimpse of innocence beneath your cruel exterior. He grinned, fangs peeking through his lips, a mix of affection and hunger lighting his features, marveling at how cute you were in this moment, stripped of your armor and snarls. This woman, who had threatened his life with such venom, now sought comfort in his touch without knowing it.
Biting his lower lip to stifle the growl building in his throat, Neteyam leaned down, his braids falling forward like dark curtains. He had to taste you, just once, to etch this reality into his being. His lips pressed softly against yours in a tentative peck, the contact electric. Your mouth yielding like ripe fruit, warm and plush, sending a jolt straight to his core.
And yet it wasn't enough, the hunger gnawed deeper.
Emboldened, he traced his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, lewd and deliberate, savoring the faint saltiness before parting your lips further and sliding inside. He explored with unrestrained greed, his tongue curling against yours, sucking gently as a groan threatened to escape him, pleasure rumbling low in his chest. The intimacy was intoxicating, as if you were already mates bound in tsaheylu, your flavors mingling in a dance that blurred the lines of enemy and desire.
You stirred beneath him, a haze of sleep fracturing as awareness flooded in. Your eyelids fluttered open, eyes widening in shock at the invasion.
There he was, the Omatikaya warrior from the raid, Neteyam.
His face inches from yours, his tongue delving deep into your mouth with shameless possession. The wet heat of him, the bold suction on your tongue, it was an assault wrapped in seduction, his breath hot against your skin. Disbelief warred with fury as you registered the intimacy, your body tensing like a coiled spring. Your hands flew up to shove at his chest, palms pressing against the firm planes of his pectorals, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath.
But Neteyam only groaned aloud now that you were awake, a sound of raw need vibrating against your lips, his large frame pinning you gently but firmly as he deepened the kiss. His mouth claimed yours harder, tongue thrusting to muffle your rising protests, swallowing your gasps in a fierce tangle that left you breathless. The world narrowed to the slick slide of him, the scrape of his fangs against your inner lip, the way his body heat seeped into yours like an unwanted brand.
Finally, he pulled back, a glistening thread of saliva bridging your lips, shimmering in the dappled light. He grinned down at you, eyes dark with triumph and yearning etched in the curve of his mouth.
"I've been searching for you." He murmured, voice husky and low, intensity lacing every word as if confessing a sacred vow.
Rage ignited in you like dry tinder to flame. With a feral snarl that bared your sharp teeth venom dripping from the sound, you lashed out, your leg snapping up to kick him squarely in the ribs. The impact sent him reeling sideways, a grunt escaping him as he rolled onto the moss. Your hands scrambled to your side, fingers closing around the hilt of your dagger, yanking it free in a blur of motion. You surged to your feet, blade glinting as you loomed over him, your form coiled for violence, breasts heaving with each furious breath that strained against the beaded top.
"You filthy demon." You hissed, voice laced with disgust, hatred sharpening your tone like your weapon, the dagger poised at his throat. "How dare you do that to me? Touch me like some lowly beast in heat?"
Your free hand wiped at your mouth as if to erase the lingering taste of him but the flush creeping up your neck betrayed a flicker of something else. Intrigue at the boldness of his claim, the way his words hung in the air like a challenge.
Neteyam didn't flinch even as the tip of your blade nicked his skin anew, a thin bead of blood welling up. He pushed himself up on one elbow, his muscular torso flexing under the thin straps of his chest covering, golden eyes locked on yours with unyielding fervor.
"I can't stop thinking about you." He confessed, the words tumbling out raw and unfiltered desperation underscoring his plea. "From the moment you pinned me down, your fire... it haunts me. Tell me your name. Let me know who has captured me so completely."
His gaze roamed your form again, not with shame but with open yearning, tracing the wild tangle of your hair framing your furious expression, the taut lines of your abdomen glistening with a sheen of river mist, the powerful stance of your legs planted wide in defiance.
Disgust roiled in your gut, hot and acrid, at this Omatikaya intruder who dared invade your solitude and your body with such audacity. He was the enemy, son of the sky demon Toruk Makto, a threat to your clan's dominance and yet, the memory of his tongue, the heat of his mouth, lingered like a poison you couldn't quite spit out. Intrigue twisted through the revulsion, what madness drove him to seek you out, to kiss you as if you were his destined one?
Your grip tightened on the dagger, knuckles paling fury warring with a treacherous curiosity in your eyes.
"You think you can waltz in here and claim what isn't yours?" You spat, stepping closer, the blade pressing harder against his jugular. "I should gut you here, leave your corpse for the viwiswasp to feast on. You're nothing but a pest, a filthy sky spawn with delusions."
But even as the words lashed out, mean and cutting, a part of you hesitated. The way his chest rose and fell, mirroring your own ragged breaths, the earnest plea in his voice that clashed with the warrior's resolve. You wanted to kill him, to end this absurdity with a swift strike, to reclaim the control he'd stolen in that kiss. Your arm trembled slightly, your beauty twisted into something lethal as your lips curled in a sneer, eyes blazing with the cruelty that defined you as Varang's sister, the Tsakarem destined to lead with iron will.
Neteyam's hand rose slowly, not to defend but to reach for you, fingers brushing the air near your wrist longing softening the edges of his gaze.
"Kill me if you must." He whispered, voice thick with emotion a dark passion fueling his defiance. "But know that even in death, I'd want you. Your fire, your cruelty, all of it. You're no enemy to me, you're the one who's awakened something I can't ignore. Your name... please."
He wanted to love you, to pull you into his world of shadows and bind you there, consequences be damned.
Your heart thundered in your ears, a war drum echoing the chaos of betrayal and unwanted heat that his touch had ignited. The dagger trembled in your grasp, its razor edge kissing the pulse point at Neteyam's throat, where his azure skin flushed with a mix of exertion and unbridled want. His golden eyes held yours unblinking, a predator's stare that refused to yield even in the face of death.
If giving him this scrap of yourself, of your name, would sever this madness then so be it.
"If I tell you my nameâŠ" You growled, voice low and edged with finality threat weaving through each syllable like thorns. "You must leave me alone. Swear it on Eywa or I'll carve your heart out here and now."
But you didn't wait for his oath, the words spilling from your lips like venom you needed to purge.
"(Y/N). Now leave me be or I'll make sure you die by my blade."
The name hung in the humid air, a reluctant offering that tasted like ash on your tongue. Your lips curled into a savage snarl, fury twisting your features and fangs glinting as you wrenched the dagger away and spun on your heel. Your bare feet sank into the cool moss, propelling you toward the river's edge, where the water's gleam promised escape from his suffocating presence. Every muscle in your body coiled with the urge to flee, your hips swaying in a warrior's stride, the loincloth brushing against your thighs like a reminder of the vulnerability he'd exploited.
"I can't do that." Neteyam called after you, his voice a rough timbre that cut through the rustle of leaves desperation cracking the edges of his resolve.
He rose fluidly, his form unfolding like a shadow detaching from the earth, broad shoulders rolling as he took a step forward, undeterred by the blood trickling down his neck.
You whirled around, disbelief flooding your veins like ice water, your wild mane of braids whipping across your shoulders in a dark cascade. The motion made your beaded top shift, the shells clinking softly against the curves of your chest, drawing his gaze for a fleeting heated instant before you jabbed the dagger toward him accusingly.
"Why do you keep insisting?" You demanded, your voice rising in incredulous outrage confusion sharpening into a blade of its own. "Are you stupid, forest boy? We are enemies, Iâm born of a clan that spills blood for sport and yet you want me?"
Your free hand gestured wildly between you, emphasizing the chasm that no words could bridge. Beauty radiated from you even in anger, the full swell of your mouth still tinged with the ghost of his kiss, a flush blooming across your collarbones like forbidden wildflowers.
"You and I could never be." You continued, the words lashing out with cruel precision, scorn dripping from your tone like poison. "My sister, Varang, would sooner see you flayed alive than accept you as the one to claim her tsmuke. She'd rip out your eyes for even dreaming it. And your precious Omatikaya? They'd never accept me. A Mangkwan, the Tsakarem who leads raids into your lands. What a fool you are, chasing shadows that will only lead you to ruin."
In your mind, he was a pathetic spectacle. This golden-eyed warrior, son of legends, reduced to begging at the feet of his foe. His persistence grated against your pride, a fool's errand that mocked the iron walls you'd built around your heart. You turned away again, shoulders squared, the dagger sheathed at your hip with a decisive snap, determined to outrun his folly.
"I don't care." Neteyam replied, his words steady and unyielding, a quiet fire burning beneath the surface, stepping closer until the heat of his body brushed the air at your back.
But you didn't listen, didn't let the plea sink in. You vanished into the underbrush, the forest swallowing you whole, leaving him with the echo of your name and the sting of rejection.
Ever since that day, he haunted your steps like a specter woven from Pandora's own mists. Neteyam followed you through the tangled wilds of Mangkwan territory, a silent shadow at times, his presence a prickle at the nape of your neck when you scouted alone. Other moments, he'd emerge from the foliage, voice soft yet insistent, murmuring words meant to chip away at your defenses.
"The way you move through the trees, it's like you're part of them." He'd say one afternoon, golden eyes tracing the graceful flex of your calves as you leaped across a fallen log, your frame twisting mid-air with effortless poise.
Or in the hush of twilight, as you sharpened your arrows by a flickering fire, he'd linger at the periphery, commenting on the stars reflected in your gaze, how they mirrored the fierce spark within you.
He was persistent, a relentless force driven by a singular goal. To soften you, to peel back the layers of cruelty until the woman he'd glimpsed in your sleep, the one who nuzzled his hand, emerged fully.
His approaches varied, sometimes bold with questions about your hunts, drawing out tales of Mangkwan prowess that made your chest swell despite yourself. Other times, quiet vigils where he'd simply watch, his muscular form leaning against a trunk, the scars on his arms catching the light like badges of battles fought for a cause, now fixated on you. Each encounter left you seething yet a treacherous warmth stirred in your core, his unwavering attention a balm to the isolation of your role as Tsakarem.
Weeks blurred into a tense rhythm, his pursuit weaving into the fabric of your days until one night, under a canopy heavy with the scent of night-blooming vines, you found yourself cornered.
Not by force but by the weight of his words.
You'd been tracking a hexapede through a secluded glade, the moon casting silvery paths on the dew-kissed ferns, when he appeared, blocking your path with a vulnerability that disarmed you. His braids were tousled from the chase, framing a face etched with raw honesty, the broad planes of his chest rising and falling as if he'd run for miles to reach you.
"Every duty, every breath I take without you feels empty." He confessed, voice a husky murmur, longing threading through like vines around your resolve. "You're not just an enemy, (Y/N). You're the fire that lights my darkness, the cruelty that makes me feel alive. Let me show you, let me prove that clans mean nothing when Eywa binds two souls like this."
His hand reached out, not to grab but to hover near yours, the calluses on his fingers speaking of battles and bows, his golden eyes locking onto your lips with an intensity that made your pulse stutter.
The air thickened, charged with the unspoken pull that had simmered since that first kiss. Against your better judgment, you stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until his breath ghosted your skin.
What was it about his persistence, the way he saw past your snarls to the beauty you wielded like a weapon?
Your body betrayed you, leaning in, the soft peaks of your breasts brushing his chest through the thin barrier of beads, sending sparks racing down your spine. His lips met yours in a tentative press then deepened as you responded, tongues tangling in a heated dance that tasted of forbidden fruit and shared secrets. Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, the world fading to the firm press of his hips against yours, the low groan he emitted vibrating through you like thunder.
But reality crashed in like a tidal wave. Images of Varang's disapproving glare, the blood-soaked raids between your clans, the impossibility of it all. You remembered who you were, the Tsakarem, Varang's unyielding sister, not some lovesick dreamer.
With a gasp, you shoved him back, your palms slamming into the unyielding wall of his abdomen, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath. He stumbled, eyes wide with shock and hurt confusion flickering in their depths but you didn't let him speak.
"Do not come see me again nor follow me." You commanded, voice breaking with a mix of resolve and regret steel hardening your tone to mask the tremor.
Your chest heaved, the beaded strands shifting with each ragged breath. You backed away, beauty sharpened by the pain of denial. Eyes stormy with unshed tears, lips swollen from the kiss, the lines of your body poised for flight.
"You and I... we could never be. Go back to your forest, Neteyam. Forget me or the next time I see you, my blade won't hesitate."
You turned and melted into the shadows, leaving him kneeling in the glade, the echo of your rejection a wound deeper than any dagger could inflict. "(Y/N), waitâ"
The night closed around you but his presence lingered like a scar, a persistent ache that neither distance nor denial could fully erase.
Weeks dragged on like vines choking the life from a once-vibrant tree and Neteyam hadn't caught even a whisper of your shadow flitting through the undergrowth. It was as if Eywa herself had woven you into the ether, erasing every trace of your presence from the tangled borders where your worlds collided. The forest, once a realm of purpose and patrol, now felt hollow, its bioluminescent glow mocking the void you'd left in his chest.
He patrolled the edges of Omatikaya territory with mechanical precision, his bow slung across his back, but his golden eyes scanned not for threats, but for the sway of a familiar form cutting through the mist-shrouded ferns.
Distraction clawed at him, a relentless predator that turned his thoughts into a storm of obsession. Training sessions blurred into forgotten commands. He'd miss cues from his father's strategies, his mind replaying the ghost of your lips against his, the way your body had arched into the kiss before rejection shattered the illusion. Your beauty haunted him, the elegant sweep of your neck as you snarled threats, the curve of your hips that spoke of battles won and raids led with unyielding command.
It consumed him, this dark hunger that twisted his once noble heart into something feral, nights spent pacing his marui pod, fingers tracing the air where your warmth had once pressed against him. Sleep evaded him, replaced by visions of your eyes flashing defiance, your full mouth curving in cruel dismissal.
His family noticed the fracture in their golden son, the way his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight, his once-sharp focus dulled like a blade left too long in the rain. Meals passed in silence, his portions untouched, until Lo'ak, ever the bold sibling, cornered him one evening by the central fire pit. The flames danced across their azure skin, casting flickering shadows that mirrored the turmoil in Neteyam's gaze.
Lo'ak dropped onto the woven mat beside him, his tail flicking with casual concern, lean muscles shifting under his arm bands as he leaned in.
"Bro, are you okay?" Lo'ak asked, voice laced with brotherly worry, a teasing edge softening the probe, his ears twitching forward. "You've been off lately like you're hunting ghosts or something."
Neteyam nodded absently, his jaw tightening as he poked at the embers with a stick, sparks rising like fleeting hopes. The motion was rote, his mind elsewhere, tangled in the memory of your scent.
Lo'ak wasn't convinced, his brow furrowing as he studied the distant look in his brother's eyes.
He nudged Neteyam's arm, the contact grounding but insistent. "Did something happen during the Mangkwan raid before Dad and I found you? Spill it."
Neteyam stilled, the stick snapping in his grip as the question yanked him back to that fateful clash. The ash-streaked warrior who'd pinned him with a blade, your body a taut bowstring of lethal grace. The memory ached like a fresh wound, your name a thorn embedded deep in his being.
He exhaled sharply, golden eyes darkening with the weight of confession.
"The Tsakarem of Mangkwan." He murmured, voice rough with longing, a raw edge betraying the storm within him. "I want her. (Y/N)."
Lo'ak's eyes widened, stupefied, his mouth parting in shock as he processed the impossibility. His golden brother, the perfect heir, ensnared by an enemy? The very heart of Mangkwan cruelty?
He leaned back, running a hand through his braids, disbelief etching lines across his face. "Bro... you know Dad and Mom would never approve. She's one of them. The ones who raid our allies, spill blood like it's water. What the hell, Neteyam?"
Neteyam's jaw clenched, the muscle ticking visibly under his skin, a fortress against the truth that echoed your own words like a cruel refrain.
He knew it, his Dadâs stern lectures on duty, his Momâs unyielding gaze on clan purity but it did nothing to quench the fire you'd ignited. Your rejection replayed in his mind, the push of your hands against his chest, the storm in your eyes as you declared your worlds irreconcilable. It only fueled the madness, making him crave the challenge of breaking through your walls.
As the brothers' tense exchange hung in the air, a soft rustle drew their attention.
Alayni emerged from the shadows of the surrounding pods, her steps hesitant, shy glances darting toward Neteyam like fireflies seeking light. Her frame was draped in healer's vines, the gentle swell of her hips swaying with quiet grace, her face framed by loose tendrils that caught the firelight, highlighting the soft blush on her cheeks. She carried a small pouch of herbs, a pretext for her approach, but her eyes betrayed the deeper intent.
Lo'ak spotted her first, a mischievous grin splitting his face as he clapped Neteyam on the shoulder, the pat teasing and knowing amusement dancing in his tone. "Looks like your admirer is here for you. Don't mess this up, golden boy."
With a wink, he rose and sauntered off, leaving Neteyam to the awkward solitude.
Neteyam rolled his eyes, a flicker of irritation crossing his features, but he schooled his expression as Alayni settled beside him. Closer than usual, her knee brushing his thigh in a tentative claim of space. The warmth of her proximity was gentle, unthreatening, her fingers twisting the pouch nervously as she met his gaze.
"How are you?" She asked softly, voice a melodic lilt shyness threading through like delicate vines, her full lips curving in a hopeful smile. "It feels like I haven't seen you around since I treated your wound. You've been... distant."
Neteyam shrugged, his broad shoulders lifting in a noncommittal motion, the scars on his arms flexing subtly under the fire's glow.
"Duties." He replied curtly, voice flat as an evasion masking the turmoil, his mind already drifting back to you, the one whose touch lingered like a brand.
Alayni leaned in slightly, her breath warm against his ear, preparing to bridge the gap with words of care, her hand hovering near his as if to offer solace. But before she could speak, shouts erupted from the treeline, harsh cries of victory and the thud of bound feet against the earth.
Neteyam's head snapped up, heart thudding against his ribs like a war drum as he spotted his father and the warriors returning, their forms silhouetted against the fading light.
The captives trailed behind, ash-streaked skins marking them as Mangkwan raiders, their bodies slumped in defeat. Five in total, wrists bound with sturdy vines, but one sight stopped Neteyam's breath.
You.
Unconscious, your form cradled in the arms of a warrior, head lolling against his chest, the ash paint smudged across your high cheekbones and the elegant line of your jaw. Your braids hung limp, framing a face pale from exhaustion, the resilient curves of your body draped in tattered raiding gear that clung to the subtle flare of your waist and the firm strength of your thighs.
The others were dragged roughly, but you were carried like a precious cargo, even in enmity.
He scrambled to his feet, abandoning Alayni mid-breath, her confused expression lost in his haste. Legs pumping, he wove through the gathering crowd, following Jake and the warriors into the large containment hut at the village's edge. The structure loomed, woven from sturdy branches and hides, its interior dim and partitioned for holding foes.
The captives were deposited inside. The four males shoved into a far corner, their glares defiant as their hisses of Mangkwan curses filled the air.
You were placed apart, in a secluded alcove screened by a heavy cloth drape, your unconscious form laid gently on a mat of woven reeds. The warrior who carried you stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow, as Jake oversaw the securing of the space.
"Dad, what happened?" Neteyam demanded, voice edged with urgency concern sharpening his tone like a drawn arrow, stepping into the hut's shadowed confines, his tail lashing behind him.
Jake turned, his massive frame blocking the entrance momentarily, eyes weary from the skirmish but sharp with command.
He wiped a streak of dirt from his arm, the muscles there corded from years of battle. "We were about to capture Varang. Had her cornered in the ravine but the female blocked it, took the hit meant for her. Bought enough time for their Tsahik to escape."
The female. You. The only one among them, your role as shield a testament to the fierce loyalty that bound you to your sister in fire and ash.
Neteyam's gaze flicked to your still form, hidden now behind the cloth, a pang twisting in his gut.
"She's the Tsakarem." He supplied, the words heavy, a mix of protectiveness and dread lacing his revelation.
Jake's eyes widened, surprise flashing across his stern features as he processed the implications, his hand pausing mid-gesture. "She's important to the Mangkwans then. Varang will probably come after her. Ransom or rescue, doesn't matter. We can't let that slide."
"She will." Neteyam confirmed, stepping closer, his voice low and resolute, the ache of your vulnerability fueling his words. "That's her younger sister. Varang won't rest until she's free."
Jake nodded at the confirmation, his expression hardening into strategic resolve, clapping a hand on Neteyam's shoulder in brief solidarity. "We will keep a tight watch then. I'll ask them questions later. See what we can pry loose about their next moves."
With that, he turned and strode out, the warriors filing after him, leaving the hut in tense silence broken only by the captives' low growls from the corner.
Neteyam lingered, the air thick with the scent of sweat and earth from the raid. He approached your alcove, parting the cloth with a steady hand, the fabric whispering against his fingers. There you lay, tied loosely at wrists and ankles to prevent escape upon waking. Vines that bit gently into your skin, marked by fresh bruises blooming like dark petals along your arms and the arch of your collarbone.
Still as beautiful as he remembered, even in captivity. Your lashes fanned against your cheeks, full lips parted slightly in unconscious repose, the soft rise and fall of your chest drawing his eye to the swell beneath your disheveled top, beads scattered like fallen stars.
He wanted to see you again, to clash words and wills in the wild freedom of the forest but not like this. Bound and broken at the mercy of his clan. Not with his family's eyes now fixed on you, a prize in their war. Kneeling beside you, the mat dipping under his weight, he reached out, callused fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, brushing away a smudge of ash to reveal the smooth glow beneath. Your skin was warm, alive with the pulse he knew so well, and the touch sent a shiver through him, desire warring with regret.
Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Gentle, lingering, tasting the faint salt of battle and the sweetness he'd stolen before.
"Foolish girl." He whispered against your mouth, tenderness laced with dark possession, his breath mingling with yours in the dim light.
The words were a caress and a claim, his thumb stroking the plush line of your lower lip as he pulled back, golden eyes devouring the sight of you, vulnerable yet unbroken. In this moment, with the world outside plotting your fate, he vowed silently to shield you. From his clan, from Varang's wrath, from everything but the bond that refused to die.
You stirred faintly under his touch, a soft murmur escaping your throat, but consciousness eluded you still. Neteyam remained, a sentinel in the shadows, his heart a battlefield where love and enmity bled into one.
Hours slipped by in the dim hush of the containment hut, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and lingering smoke from the raid. Flickering torchlight danced across the woven walls, casting elongated shadows that twisted like serpents in the undergrowth.
You stirred slowly, the haze of unconsciousness peeling away to reveal the ache throbbing through your limbs, a dull fire from the blow that had felled you, protecting Varang's escape. Your eyelids fluttered open, gaze sharpening as the world came into focus. The sturdy reeds beneath you, the vines binding your wrists and ankles in a loose but unyielding embrace, and worst of all, the two figures looming nearby.
Neteyam knelt close, his golden eyes fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on hunger, broad shoulders tense under his warrior's harness, the lean cords of muscle in his arms flexing as he leaned forward. Beside him stood Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, his massive frame radiating authority, scarred torso marked by battles long past, tail swaying with restrained impatience.
A snarl ripped from your throat, low and feral disgust curling your lips like a predator's warning, your body coiling against the restraints as you bared your teeth. The sight of them, your captors and enemies, ignited a blaze in your chest, your form tensing, the subtle strength in your thighs pressing against the mat as you tested the bonds.
Jake crossed his arms, his gaze steady and unyielding, a hint of weary respect in his tone. "Your warriors stabbed themselves refusing to talk. You are the only one left."
You met his eyes, a smirk twisting your full mouth despite the vulnerability of your position, the line of your jaw lifting in defiance. Ash still clung in faint traces to your high cheekbones, accentuating the beauty of your features.
"Their loyalties bind them to us." You replied, voice smooth and laced with pride, a mocking edge sharpening the words, your chest rising with a steady breath that drew attention to the swell beneath your tattered top.
Jake tsked, shaking his head, the sound rough like gravel, underfoot frustration etching faint lines around his eyes. "You're one stubborn clan."
You hissed at him, the sound sharp and venomous, hatred flashing in your stare, ears flattening against your skull as you glared at the legend before you, the human-turned-Na'vi who embodied everything your clan despised.
"You will remain here, captive." Jake continued, his voice firm, command underscoring the decree. "You'll be our leverage if your sister ever decides to attack."
A growl rumbled deep in your chest, directed solely at him. The Toruk Makto, the anomaly who dared threaten your bloodline. Your fingers curled into fists within the vines, nails digging into your palms, the taper of them drawing faint crescents on your skin.
Jake sighed, the exhale heavy with the weight of leadership, and clapped a hand on Neteyam's shoulder, the gesture paternal and trusting as a subtle nod of handover. "Keep watch on her. The responsibility is on you."
Neteyam nodded, his expression composed outward, calm masking the thrill surging through his veins, but inside, glee bubbled like a hidden spring. He alone would guard you, tend to you, unravel the fortress of your resistance. As Jake strode out, the flap of the hut falling shut behind him, the space shrank to just the two of you, the air humming with unspoken tension.
"Baby." Neteyam murmured, voice low and intimate, affection warming the endearment as he shifted closer on his knees, his warm breath ghosting over your bound form.
You recoiled, disgust twisting your features, revulsion flaring hot in your gut, your head snapping back as far as the position allowed, the cascade of your braids shifting across your shoulders.
"Don't call me with that filthy tawtute terms of yours." You spat, words dripping venom as anger sharpened each syllable, your torso arching away from him.
He ignored the barb, golden eyes gleaming with unshakeable resolve as he leaned in, the scent of forest and him invading your senses. "Why did you let yourself get captured?"
You snarled baring fangs, fury igniting your gaze like struck flint, straining against the vines that held your wrists above your head, the motion pulling taut the supple curve of your arms.
"I am protecting our tsahik." You hissed, loyalty a shield as unyielding as your will, your voice echoing the sacred bond to Varang.
His lips curved into a grin, wide and boyish yet edged with something darker, delight sparkling in his eyes, the sharp angles of his face softening in the torchlight. "I've missed you."
You rolled your eyes, the gesture exaggerated, exasperation warring with the unwelcome flutter in your chest, turning your face away, the slope of your neck exposed in the motion, beads from your disrupted adornments clinking softly.
"I've missed your lips." He added, voice dropping to a husky whisper, desire threading through like vines claiming a tree, his fingers reaching out to trace the plush contour of your mouth, calluses rough against the sensitive skin.
You shook him off with a jerk of your head, the touch igniting sparks of unwanted heat irritation flaring alongside a traitorous shiver.
"Do not touch me, demon." You commanded, tone icy, loathing masking the conflict stirring within you.
But he only grinned wider, happiness radiating from him like bioluminescent blooms, his joy unmarred by your barbs as he settled back on his haunches to simply watch you, the weight of his gaze a caress in itself.
The days that followed blurred into a rhythm of captivity and unwelcome intimacy, the hut your world narrowed to woven walls and the single guardian who haunted your every waking moment.
Neteyam was the only face you saw, his presence a constant. Bringing woven baskets of fruit and roasted meats, feeding you with deliberate care. His fingers would brush your lips as he offered bites of sweet berry, the juice staining your chin, and you'd snarl with defiance in every bite, snapping at his hand like a cornered ikran, yet he persisted undeterred, his touch lingering on the delicate skin of your jaw.
He touched you freely, hands roaming while you snarled and twisted as fury boiled beneath your skin, the vines holding you fast to the mat or a sturdy post when he deemed it necessary. Stolen kisses came unbidden, his mouth claiming yours in quick heated presses when your guards were down, tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you bit back with rage fueling the clash of teeth.
He was utterly smitten, golden eyes devouring every inch of you with the way your chest heaved with indignant breaths, the flex of your thighs as you kicked futilely, the wild beauty of your stare that promised retribution.
One afternoon, as sunlight filtered through the hut's slits in golden shafts, he untied your ankles just enough to pull you onto his lap, your back pressed against the solid wall of his chest. His arms encircled your waist, strong and unyielding with possessiveness in his hold, the heat of his body seeping through your sparse coverings.
You snarled writhing, disgust and something perilously close to anticipation warring within, but the bonds on your wrists kept you captive to his whims.
"Shh, just relax." He murmured against your ear, tenderness laced with command, his large hands sliding upward, cupping the soft perky mounds of your breasts through the thin beaded top.
His thumbs circled the peaks, teasing them to firm points, desire evident in the hitch of his breath as he massaged your breasts with slow deliberate strokes that sent unwelcome jolts through your core. The sensation was maddening, the rough pads of his fingers kneading the yielding flesh, tracing the alluring undersweep before pinching lightly, drawing a gasp you couldn't suppress betrayal in the sound.
Your body arched involuntarily, nipples hardening under his touch, the azure skin flushing with heat as he lavished attention, his lips grazing the curve of your shoulder.
"See? You like it." He whispered, smug satisfaction coloring his voice, nipping at the tender skin there, his hips shifting subtly beneath you, the growing hardness pressing against your lower back.
You growled low, humiliation burning alongside the forbidden pleasure, twisting your head to glare at him, but the fight in your eyes dimmed fractionally with each passing day.
Weeks wove onward, the passage marked by the changing light outside and the subtle shift within you.
The snarls grew less fervent, your body anticipating his arrivals from the brush of his fingers to the the warmth of his frame, though you'd never admit it, never let the fondness crack your armored facade. You'd avert your gaze when he fed you, lips parting almost eagerly for the morsels, or lean into his massages despite the huffs of protest, a secret thrill coiling in your belly.
His touches became a ritual with his hands exploring the lines of your sides, thumbs dipping into the dip of your waist, or tracing the strong taper of your legs, always pushing boundaries while you feigned outrage.
One evening, as the stars began their vigil beyond the hut, Neteyam had you straddled across his thighs once more, your bound hands resting on his shoulders for balance.
The air hummed with humidity, your skin glistening faintly, the elegant fan of your lashes lowered as his palms worked their magic on your breasts again. This time bare, the beads pushed aside to expose the soft rounded swells. He kneaded them with reverence, awe in the gentle pressure, rolling the sensitive buds between fingers slick with shared sweat. His mouth following to lave hot open-mouthed kisses along the valley between.
Your breath hitched, conflict evident in the stutter, hips rocking subtly against him, the friction igniting sparks that blurred the line between hate and hunger. He groaned against your skin as need roughened the sound, one hand sliding down to grip the firm curve of your ass, pulling you closer as his tongue flicked teasingly.
It was in this haze of intimacy, bodies entwined like mates in the privacy of the alcove, that Alayni slipped into the hut unseen, her steps silent as a healer's grace. She had come under pretense of checking the captives' wounds, her pouch of salves clutched tightly, but the sight that greeted her froze her in the shadows.
You and Neteyam, lost in each other, his hands worshipping your form, your head thrown back in a moment of unguarded surrender.
Fury ignited in her chest, hot and consuming jealousy twisting her features into a mask of rage, eyes narrowing to slits.
Neteyam was supposed to be hers. The shy glances she'd cast, the wounds she'd tended with lingering touches, the dreams of bonding under Eywa's gaze. And now, here he was, defiling that future with you. An enemy, a Mangkwan witch, doing filthy things that should have been hers alone. Her fingers tightened on the pouch, knuckles paling, as she watched his mouth claim a nipple, your soft moan piercing the air like a betrayal.
But anger birthed cunning.
Alayni's lips curled into a smirk, cold and calculating as vindictive glee sparked in her gaze, she backed away silently, melting into the night. She knew just what to do, whispers to the right ears, seeds of doubt sown in fertile soil.
Varang would come for her sister but before that, she'd ensure this forbidden flame was snuffed out, one way or another.
The days dragged on in the stifling confines of the hut, your world reduced to the flicker of torch flames and the relentless pull of the vines that bound you. Whispers from beyond the woven walls hinted at unrest, scouts reporting movements in the ash-choked territories but you paid them little mind, your thoughts a whirlwind of simmering resentment and the unwelcome echoes of Neteyam's touches.
Unbeknownst to everyone, Alayni moved like a shadow through the camp, her steps light and purposeful as she sought out a Mangkwan scout. With a healer's gentle facade masking her venom, she slipped him a message etched on a leaf. The location of the Omatikaya's hidden holding ground, the precise hut where you were kept. Satisfaction curled her lips as she watched him dispatch immediately after hissing at her.
Varang would come, of that she was certain, and once you were ripped away, the stain you'd left on Neteyam's heart would fade, leaving her path clear.
She bided her time with calculated grace, weaving herself deeper into the fabric of the Sully family.
Mornings found her at Neytiri's side in the healer's marui, her hands steady as she ground herbs for poultices, her voice soft with feigned humility, adoration shining in her wide eyes as she praised Neytiri's wisdom. Evenings brought her to Jake, offering insights on the refugees' wounds, her touch lingering just a fraction too long on his arm as she murmured concerns for the clan's future.
Approval warmed their gazes, nods of encouragement that fueled her ambition. Everything unfolded as she envisioned. His parents' favor solidified, pressure mounting on Neteyam to seal the bond before the shadows of war encroached further.
One humid afternoon, as the sun dipped toward the canopy in a blaze of amber, Alayni slipped into your hut unannounced, the flap rustling like a conspirator's whisper.
You lay there, wrists still secured to the low beam overhead, your frame stretched out on the mat, the faint sheen of sweat tracing the elegant hollows of your collarbones. Your azure skin glowed softly in the diffused light, the subtle freckles across your shoulders like scattered stars, and your chest rose in steady rhythms.
She knelt beside you, her posture demure yet predatory, knees folding gracefully onto the earth as her tail flicked with restrained triumph. Her fingers brushed the edge of the mat, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from your body.
"So this is where my soon-to-be mate has been occupying himself with." She said, voice honeyed with mock pity as a saccharine smile curved her lips, eyes glinting with malice.
You stared at her blankly, eyes narrowing slightly as you took in her features.
"Who?" You asked tone flat, your head tilting just enough to let a braid slip over your shoulder, brushing the firm flesh of your bicep.
Her grin widened, sweet as overripe fruit, revealing the gleam of her teeth as she leaned closer, the scent of healing herbs clinging to her like a veil.
"Neteyam." She purred, the name rolling off her tongue with possessive delight, triumph lacing the revelation. "We will be mated earlier than planned, as per his parents."
Something twisted in your chest. A sharp unexpected clench that stole your breath like thorns snagging delicate vines. Your heart stuttered, a betraying ache blooming beneath your ribs, but you schooled your features into impassive stone, the high planes of your cheekbones unchanging, your gaze steady as unyielding rock.
All this time, his whispers, his hands mapping your skin like sacred territory, his stolen kisses that left you breathless and conflicted, they were lies woven around another. A potential mate waiting in the wings while he toyed with you, the enemy captive.
Sick demon bastard.
"Put him on a leash then." You replied, forcing a grin that mirrored hers, malice flashing in your stare like lightning over ash plains, your voice dripping with feigned amusement. "So your future mate will stop coming to pester me."
The words tasted like bile but you held the expression as you met her stare head on.
Meanwhile, across the camp in the central marui, Neteyam stood rigid before his parents, the air thick with the scent of spiced tea and unresolved tension.
Jake's broad frame filled the space, his scarred arms crossed over his chest while Neytiri sat poised nearby, her fingers tracing patterns on a woven mat, golden eyes watchful.
The news fell like a stone into still water. A mating with Alayni, sealed in just one month's time, earlier than tradition dictated, a safeguard against the uncertainties of leadership should fate claim both Jake and Neytiri in battle.
"It's for the clan, son." Jake said, voice gravelly with finality, concern etching deeper lines into his brow, clapping a hand on Neteyam's shoulder, the weight meant to ground him.
Neytiri nodded, her tail curling supportively around her leg gentle resolve in her tone. "Alayni is devoted and strong, she is who we have chosen. She will stand beside you as Olo'eyktan's mate."
Fury burned through Neteyam's veins, hot and unquenchable, his jaw clenching so tightly the muscles bunched along his sharp jawline.
He didn't want her. Not her shy glances, not her dutiful presence, they were chains disguised as comfort. No, his thoughts raced to you. The fire in your snarls, the beauty of your form yielding under his touch, the forbidden pull that consumed him. You, with your pretty eyes that pierced like arrows, your body a landscape he longed to claim eternally.
He said nothing, golden eyes darkening with suppressed rage, turning on his heel without another word. The marui's flap snapped shut behind him as he stormed toward your hut, craving the solace of your presence, the one anchor in this storm of obligation.
He pushed through the entrance, the dim interior unfolding before him like a betrayal frozen in time.
There you were, bound and defiant, but your face. Oh, Eywa, your face, it was lit with a grin that sliced deeper than any blade. The malicious glint in your eyes was back, amplified tenfold, a savage spark that echoed the day he'd first seen you amid the raid's chaos, ash-streaked and commanding.
Beside you knelt Alayni, her expression a mask of innocence shattered by the scene.
"Look, your future mate is here." You said, the words laced with venomous glee as your grin widened, teeth flashing as you tilted your chin upward.
The coldness in your stare pinned him, stripping away the fragile warmth he'd coaxed from you over weeks of stolen intimacies.
Neteyam stiffened, his broad chest heaving with a sharp inhale, the lean planes of his abdomen tensing beneath his harness.
You knew. The progress, the softening glances, the reluctant leans into his embrace crumbled to dust before his eyes. Alayni had poisoned it all, her meddling a dagger to his desires.
His gaze flicked to her, fury igniting like dry tinder. Without a word, he lunged forward, large hand wrapping around Alayni's slender wrist in a grip of iron, frustration boiling over in the tremble of his fingers. He dragged her up and out, her body stumbling in his wake, the flap whipping shut behind them.
You watched them go, the grin on your lips turning colder and sharper, like frost on volcanic glass a hollow ache gnawing at your core despite the armor. They did look good together, her demure form tucked against his towering strength, a picture of clan-approved harmony. And that truth stung more than any admission, a barb lodging deep, twisting with the realization of your own foolish vulnerability.
Outside, in the shadowed alcove between huts, Neteyam released Alayni with a shove, whirling on her as a hiss escaped his throat, low and guttural rage vibrating through the sound, his ears pinning back flat against his braided hair.
"What did you tell her?" He demanded, golden eyes blazing, the sharp angles of his face hardened into lines of accusation, his tail lashing like a whip.
Alayni glanced up at him through her lashes, the gesture shy and fluttering, feigned innocence veiling the satisfaction in her depths, rubbing her wrist with delicate fingers.
"That we will be mated in a month." She replied softly, voice trembling just enough to evoke pity, a subtle pout forming on her lips.
Neteyam growled, the sound rumbling from his chest like distant thunder, frustration etching fury across his features, stepping closer until his shadow engulfed her.
"You ruined everything." He snarled, fists clenching at his sides, the cords of muscle in his forearms standing out in stark relief.
"I was just saying the truth." Alayni countered, chin lifting with quiet defiance, resolve strengthening her tone, eyes locking onto his. "Especially since it's been blessed by your parents. It's for the good of the clan, Neteyam."
He opened his mouth to retort, words of denial and desperation bubbling up, but the air shattered with a deafening roar. Explosions ripped through the camp, blooms of fire and ash erupting from the perimeter like vengeful spirits unleashed. The ground trembled, screams piercing the night as warriors scrambled, bows drawn and ikran screeching overhead. Mangkwans, fierce shadows descending from the shadows, their forms painted in war cries and fury.
They had come for you.
The chaos erupted like the fury of Eywa's wrath, the night sky fracturing with bursts of flame and acrid smoke that clawed at the senses.
Neteyam froze at the threshold of the marui, his hand outstretched toward the flap, every fiber of his being screaming to reach you, to shield you from the encroaching storm. But another explosion thundered closer, shaking the woven platform beneath his feet, the ground vibrating with the impact of Mangkwan ikrans diving from the shadowed cliffs. Warriors' cries pierced the air, sharp desperate calls to arms and he knew with a sinking dread, that duty bound him first.
His golden eyes lingered on the shadowed interior for a heartbeat longer, the pull toward you a magnetic ache in his chest before he spun away, muscles coiling like a predator's as he sprinted into the fray. m
Alayni stood forgotten in the dust, her form shrinking in his wake as he vanished among the leaping shadows of Omatikaya defenders.
Inside the marui, the world tilted on its axis. You had barely settled back against the mat, the vines around your wrists a familiar rasp against your skin, when the first boom reverberated through the walls, deep and ominous, like the rumble of volcanic depths stirring awake. Your eyes snapped open, head lifting as the air grew thick with the scent of scorched earth and distant blood.
What was this? Another raid? Or something far worse, born of the tensions that had simmered since your capture?
The flap burst open without warning, a silhouette materializing in the torchlight like a specter from the ash plains. Tall and imposing, her frame clad in the jagged armor of Mangkwan war paint, stripes of obsidian gleaming across her broad shoulders and down the powerful lines of her thighs.
Varang, your sister, the unyielding force of your clan, stepped forward, her presence filling the space with an electric menace, her tail lashing once in sharp triumph.
"Little tsmuke." She rumbled, voice low and edged with possessive glee, a fierce grin splitting her face, revealing the sharpened points of her canines as her amber eyes locked onto yours with predatory affection.
Your breath caught, a surge of relief flooding through you like cool rain on parched soil, your body shifting upright despite the bindings, the subtle flex of your toned abdomen drawing the loincloth's edges taut against your hips.
"Varang." You whispered, the word laced with raw vulnerability, hope flickering in your gaze, your full lips curving into a tentative smile that softened the sharp beauty of your features. "You came for me?"
She moved with purposeful strides, her large hands reaching for the vines with swift efficiency, slicing through them with a hidden dagger that flashed in the dim light. The fibers parted with a soft snap, and freedom rushed back into your limbs, a tingling warmth spreading from your wrists as you rubbed the faint red marks blooming on your azure skin.
Varang's grin widened, menacing and triumphant, her broad chest heaving with barely contained energy, the intricate scars across her collarbone catching the fire's glow like badges of conquest.
"Yes." She said, tone brooking no delay, commanding resolve in her stance as she gripped your arm, pulling you to your feet with effortless strength. "Come."
You followed her out into the night, the marui's warmth giving way to the chaotic symphony of battle.
The village platform teemed with motion. Omatikaya warriors leaping between branches, their forms blurring as they nocked arrows and unleashed volleys into the descending horde. Mangkwan fighters swarmed from the treeline, their ikran shrieking as they clashed mid-air, talons raking through flesh and wing. Explosions bloomed sporadically, grenades of volcanic powder hurled by your kin, igniting the underbrush in furious orange. The air hummed with the twang of bowstrings and the guttural roars of combat, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the earthy musk of sweat-soaked bodies.
Your bare feet padded softly over the woven walkways, heart pounding in sync with the frenzy, your unbound arms swinging freely for the first time in weeks, the cool night breeze kissing the exposed curves of your waist and the gentle swell of your breasts beneath the beaded strands.
Then, amid the turmoil, you spotted her. Alayni, huddled against a nearby post, her slender frame trembling in the flickering light, wide eyes darting as if seeking an anchor in the storm.
Varang strode past without a flicker of acknowledgment, her focus laser-sharp on escape but you couldn't hold back.
A snarl tore from your throat, low and feral fury igniting in your gaze, your lips peeling back to expose teeth in a vicious baring, the line of your neck tensing as you leaned toward her.
Varang's hand clamped down on your shoulder, firm and unyielding, halting your advance mid-step.
You glanced up at her, confusion etching across your face, the high cheekbones flushing faintly with the heat of your anger.
"She was the one who told us where you were. I would have cut her kuru off but we will be wasting time." Varang explained, voice a gravelly murmur as disgust curled her upper lip.
The revelation hit like a spear to the gut.
This fucking bitch, going to such depraved extremes just to claim Neteyam? Betraying her own people, inviting destruction upon them for a twisted shot at his bond?
Rage and amusement simmered in your veins, hot and unfiltered, but you channeled it into a smirk, slow and menacing, your eyes narrowing to slits that gleamed with cruel intelligence. You stepped closer to Alayni despite Varang's hold, your posture shifting into one of mocking poise, the graceful sway of your hips accentuating the lithe power in your legs.
"You became a traitor to your people just to have him?" You taunted, voice silky with venom as a low chuckle bubbled up, your head tilting to let a braid sway against the smooth plane of your shoulder. "Do you think you'd be mated with him once they found out you were the one who caused this destruction, their deaths?"
You giggled then, the sound cruel and crystalline, echoing like shattering glass amid the distant clamor, your laughter laced with derision as you watched her eyes sharpen, the shy facade cracking to reveal the venom beneath.
Alayni's features twisted, her soft mouth compressing into a thin line, but she forced a grin in return, brittle and defiant, her hands clenching at her sides, knuckles paling against her blue skin.
"No one will know." She hissed, the words dripping with false sweetness, a predatory glint flashing in her gaze, her chin lifting in haughty challenge. "Because you won't be here anymore to tell him."
You met her stare with a taunting calm, your smirk unwavering, the corners of your mouth quirking upward in serene mockery, your body relaxed yet poised, the subtle rise and fall of your chest betraying none of the storm within.
Varang's fingers dug into your arm then, urging you onward with a sharp tug, her massive form shielding you as she propelled you toward the edge of the platform.
"Enough." She growled, impatience sharpening her tone, her free hand gesturing toward her waiting nightwraith in the shadows.
Hesitation gripped you like invisible chains, heavier than the vines ever were.
Over those endless days and nights, fondness had crept into your heart for Neteyam. Unwanted and insidious, a warmth that bloomed in the wake of his persistent touches, his whispered promises that now rang hollow. You had grown accustomed to the way his golden eyes softened for you, the reverence in his caresses tracing the valleys of your spine, the heat of his body pressing close in the dim hut.
But to stay?
To linger as their prisoner, forced to witness him bound to this scheming viper in a month's time? No. The betrayal stung deeper than any wound. He had lied, omitted the truth of his impending mating while his hands roamed your skin, murmuring of futures intertwined, of desires that now felt like cruel jests. Your chest tightened, a sigh escaping your lips, soft and resigned, your shoulders slumping ever so slightly, the curve of your back arching as you drew in the smoky air you were familiar with.
You ran then, matching Varang's powerful strides, your legs carrying you with renewed vigor over the swaying bridges, the wind whipping through your hair and cooling the flush on your cheeks. The battle raged around you, but your focus narrowed to escape. The distant calls of your ikran, the path to freedom amid the chaos. Behind you, the marui faded into the night, a chapter closing with bitter finality.
Minutes stretched into an eternity of skirmishes before Neteyam could break free, his bow still humming from the arrows he'd loosed into the fray, his chest heaving with exertion, streaks of soot marring the defined ridges of his torso. He raced back to the marui, ignoring the sting of superficial cuts along his arms, his mind a singular blaze.
You.
Bursting through the flap, he scanned the interior, the empty mat, the severed vines scattered like discarded shackles. His heart plummeted, a cold void yawning in his chest, the lean muscles of his frame going rigid as denial clawed at him.
He whirled out, golden eyes landing on Alayni, who lingered outside, her posture a picture of feigned distress, arms wrapped around her slender waist as if to ward off the night's terror. He ignored the way she reached for him, her fingers brushing his elbow and fixed her with a glare that could shatter stone.
"Where is she?" He demanded, voice rough and edged with panic, his jaw clenching, the sharp planes of his face taut with desperation, tail flicking erratically behind him.
Alayni's expression crumpled into one of artful fragility, her wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears, lashes fluttering as she gazed up at him, her voice emerging soft and quivering, laced with sorrowful conviction. "She ran away, Neteyam. Her sister came and freed her. I told her you wouldn't want her to leave but she was happy to be free. Said she didn't want to be here... nor be in your presence."
Silence crashed over him like a tidal wave, his breath stalling in his lungs, the world narrowing to the echo of her words.
You really didn't like him. All those weeks,the stolen moments where your body arched into his, the fleeting softness in your gaze, the reluctant sighs that he mistook for yielding, they were illusions, born of captivity's coercion. You had endured him, nothing more, your responses a prisoner's survival, not a spark of true connection. The fire that had burned in his soul for you flickered and died, leaving only ashes in its wake, his heart turning to ice, numb and unyielding.
His broad shoulders sagged imperceptibly, the golden light in his eyes dimming to shadowed resolve.
Alayni stepped closer, her hand finding his arm again, this time with gentle insistence comfort threading her tone, a subtle smile curving her lips as she pressed the advantage. "It's okay, Neteyam. She is a Mangkwan, she's been wanting to escape. At least our people will have no problems anymore, and in a month, we will be mated."
He didn't pull away, the words settling over him like a shroud.
Acceptance seeped in, cold and inevitable, you did not want him, and perhaps it was time to let the obsession fracture, to forge ahead with the path laid before him by clan and kin. The battle's din faded to a distant roar as the warrior's mask slipped back into place, burying the remnants of his shattered longing for you.
Since then, weeks had slipped by like shadows fleeing the dawn, each day etching deeper lines of detachment into Neteyam's once-vibrant spirit. The lush canopy of the Omatikaya village hummed with its eternal rhythm, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant calls of ikran wheeling overhead, but for him, the world had dulled to a muted haze. His golden eyes, once alight with the fire, now stared out with a steely impassivity, scanning horizons not for wonder, but for threats to be neutralized.
The raid led by Varang had receded into memory, its scars healed on the village platforms, yet the wound it inflicted on him festered unseen, a quiet erosion of the warmth that had defined him.
Tuk, with her boundless energy and innocent delight, felt the chill most acutely. She bounded up to him one evening as he sharpened his blade by the communal fire, her small hands clutching a fresh weave of beads, iridescent stones and feathers intertwined in a pattern mimicking the bioluminescent vines that glowed at night. Her tail swished with eager anticipation, freckles dancing across her cheeks as she thrust the creation forward, her wide eyes sparkling with hope voice bubbling with excitement.
"Neteyam, look! I made this for you, it's like the stars we saw last eclipse!"
He paused, the whetstone halting mid-stroke against the obsidian edge, his broad shoulders tensing beneath the woven straps of his chest harness. For a fleeting moment, his gaze softened, tracing the delicate craftsmanship in her tiny fingers, the way the beads caught the sunlight and shimmered like captured fireflies. But the spark didn't ignite, no smile curved his lips, no playful ruffle of her hair followed.
Instead, he nodded curtly, resuming his task with mechanical precision, his jaw set in a firm line, voice flat and distant, devoid of the affectionate lilt she craved. "It's nice, Tuk. Put it with the others."
Her face fell, the joy draining like water from a punctured gourd, her ears drooping as she clutched the beads closer to her chest. She lingered for a beat, searching his profile, hoping for the brother who would scoop her up and declare it the finest gift Eywa ever bestowed. But he turned away, eyes fixed on the blade's gleaming surface, and she scampered off, shoulders slumped, the weave trailing forgotten in her wake.
The once-loving brother and son had hollowed into a shell, his movements efficient but soulless as if the essence that bound him to family and clan had been leeched away. All because of you, your escape a silent verdict on his delusions, a rejection that echoed in the empty spaces of his nights.
He threw himself into duties with relentless fervor. Leading patrols along the outer borders, training young warriors in the art of silent strikes, overseeing the weaving of new nets for the ikran handlers. His body moved with the grace of a predator, but his mind was a fortress, walled against reminiscence of you.
He avoided the routes where fate had first tangled your paths, the shadowed glades where Mangkwan raids had brushed too close to Omatikaya lands. No longer did he linger at the river's bend, where the water ran swift and clear, its banks lined with ferns that whispered secrets to the wind. Those places, once alive with the thrill of pursuit and stolen glances with you, now held only ghosts. He charted new paths, deeper into the heart of the forest, where the air grew thicker with the scent of moss and blooming nightflowers, forcing his focus to the tangible such as the snap of a branch underfoot or the distant roar of a thanator claiming territory.
Jake and Neytiri watched from afar, their concern a quiet storm brewing in stolen moments by their marui.
Jake's brow furrowed as he cleaned his rifle, a human relic he rarely touched these days, his massive frame leaning against a post, eyes tracking Neteyam's solitary figure vanishing into the treeline. The change had been stark, a full revolution from the son who joked with Lo'ak over shared kills to this impassive sentinel. It started after Varang's assault, the explosions that had torn through the night like Eywa's judgment, and though the Mangkwan leader had retreated with her forces, the aftermath lingered in Neteyam's silence.
"He's not himself." Jake murmured one evening, his voice rough with worry, arms crossed over his broad chest and the lines around his eyes deepening as he gazed at Neytiri.
Neytiri nodded, her braids swaying as she stirred a pot of herbal stew, the steam rising in fragrant curls that carried notes of healing roots. Her golden eyes, sharp and knowing, held a mother's intuition, tracing the invisible threads connecting her son's withdrawal to the captive who had slipped away.
"I think it is the Mangkwan tsakarem." She said, conviction lacing her tone, her tail curling thoughtfully around her ankle, fingers pausing on the wooden spoon as a memory of your face surfaced. "I believe she has woven herself into his thoughts. The attack... it freed her but it broke something in him."
Jake sighed, rubbing a hand over his braided mohawk, the weight of leadership pressing on him as surely as the humid air. They had suspected as much, the way Neteyam's gaze had lingered on the empty marui, the subtle flinch at mentions of Mangkwan scouts. But pushing him now, with the mantle of Olo'eyktan looming in a year's shadow, would only drive the fracture deeper.
"Let him be." He decided, voice resolute yet tinged with reluctance as be stood to clasp her shoulder, his callused palm warm against her skin. "He'll find his way. Duty will anchor him."
Alayni, meanwhile, bloomed in the vacuum of his detachment, her happiness a radiant veil masking the shadows of her deeds.
Two weeks until the mating ceremony and the village buzzed with preparations of fresh flowers woven into garlands and chants rehearsed under the great tree's glow. No one knew of her betrayal, the whispered coordinates she had passed to Varang's men, the calculated risk that had invited chaos to claim you and clear her path. To the clan, she was the dutiful future tsahik, her shy smiles and gentle hands a perfect counterpoint to Neteyam's stoic resolve.
She walked beside him now on a routine patrol, her steps light and synchronized with his longer strides, the sway of her hips accentuated by the fitted loincloth that hugged her slender curves. The sun filtered through the canopy in dappled patterns, gilding her azure skin and highlighting the subtle bioluminescent freckles dusting her collarbone. Alayni glanced up at him often, her dark eyes alight with unspoken triumph as a soft giggle escaped her lips, brushing a leaf from his arm, fingers lingering on the firm swell of his bicep.
"The forest feels peaceful today, doesn't it, Neteyam? Like Eywa is blessing our union already."
He nodded absently, his gaze fixed ahead on the winding path, the play of light and shadow across his chiseled features unchanging.
Accompanying her was duty, escorting his future mate through the clan's territories, ensuring her safety amid lingering threats from rival clans. His hand rested on his knife hilt, posture alert, the lean lines of his torso shifting with each measured step, sweat beading along the ridge of his spine from the midday heat. To him, it was rote, a task etched into the rhythm of leadership, devoid of the spark that had once ignited at your proximity.
But to Alayni, every moment was victory incarnate.
She had won, the enemy tsakarem fled, the obstacles in her way shattered, and soon his kuru would bond with hers under the eyes of the clan. Her heart raced with giddy elation, a flush warming her cheeks as she imagined the ceremony. His strong hands on her waist, the tsaheylu sealing their fates. She linked her arm through his pressing closer, the soft press of her breast against his side a deliberate intimacy, voice breathy with feigned shyness yet her eyes gleamed with possessive delight.
"I can't wait for the weaving of our kurus. It'll be perfect, won't it? Just us, forever."
Neteyam murmured agreement, the words automatic as his mind was elsewhere, on maps of patrol routes or on the warriors awaiting his command.
He tried with iron will to banish thoughts of you from the recesses of his soul. He would be Olo'eyktan soon, the weight of the clan on his shoulders, mated to Alayni in a union forged for stability and strength. There was no space for yearning, no indulgence for a ghost who had recoiled from his touch, who had fled at the first chance, eyes cold with disgust rather than desire. You hadn't loved him, your responses had been chains of circumstance, feigned to survive the cage of captivity.
The realization was a blade at his chest, twisting deeper with each suppressed memory.
Yet, in the quiet hours when the village slumbered and the stars wheeled overhead, your image weaseled in unbidden. He would lie on his mat, the thatch roof above him a barrier against the night's whispers but sleep evaded him. Visions assailed of the arch of your neck as you tilted your head in defiance, the silken glide of your skin under his fingertips during those stolen intimacies, the reluctant parting of your lips that he had mistaken for surrender. An ache bloomed in his chest like thorns embedding in its flesh, a hollow throb that echoed the void you had left.
He clenched his fists, nails biting into palms, forcing his breath steady as his eyes squeezed shut, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he willed the phantom away.
Duty. Clan. Future.
The mantra repeated, a shield against the erosion but the cracks persisted, widening with every heartbeat of his.
In the days that followed, the preparations intensified. Alayni flitted about with renewed purpose, her laughter ringing clearer as she helped Neytiri select ceremonial beads, her fingers deftly sorting the vibrant strands. Neteyam joined when required, his presence a steady anchor amid the festivities, but his smiles were rare, reserved for elders and children who demanded them.
Jake pulled him aside once, during a strategy session by the war council, his father's hand heavy on his shoulder voice gruff with concern, eyes searching his son's face for the boy he remembered. "Son, whatever haunts you, face it. Don't let it consume the leader you're becoming."
Neteyam met his gaze evenly, the golden depths unyielding as his shoulders squared with a nod crisp and final. "It's handled, sir. The clan comes first."
But as he walked away, the forest closing around him like a living shroud, the ache resurfaced again as a persistent whisper of what might have been, tangled forever in the undergrowth of his resolve.
Hours went by, the eclipse had long since painted the sky in deep indigo, the bioluminescent vines along the village platforms casting a soft ethereal glow that did little to ease the knot of worry twisting in Neytiri's chest.
She lay beside Jake in their marui, the rhythmic rise and fall of his broad back a testament to the exhaustion of leadership, his braided kuru draped loosely over the woven mat. But sleep eluded her, her golden eyes flicking toward the entrance flap, where the night sounds of Pandora filtered in.
Neteyam was late, far past the hour warriors returned from solitary vigils or patrols. Her eldest, the pillar of their family, had become a ghost in his own home, his steps silent and his words fewer than the stars above.
With a quiet resolve, she rose, her lithe form unfolding gracefully, the faint scars from old battles tracing faint lines along her arms like maps of survival. She draped a light shawl over her shoulders, the fabric whispering against her azure skin, and slipped out into the cooling air. The village slumbered, maruis dimly lit by inner fires, but her hunter's instincts guided her toward the outer platforms, where the great tree's roots intertwined with the earth.
There, perched on a low branch overlooking the valley, she found him. Neteyam with his back to her, broad shoulders slumped under the weight of invisible burdens. He stared upward, the starlight reflecting in the wet trails of tears carving paths down his cheeks, his golden eyes distant and shattered.
Her heart clenched like a fist around a thorn, a sharp ache blooming as she witnessed tears streaming freely from the face of her unbreakable son. In all her years, through battles and losses, she had never seen him cry. Not as a fierce young warrior facing his first hunt, not even when Kiri's visions had shaken the family to its core. These past weeks, he had been a hollow vessel, his laughter silenced, his touch withdrawn, but this vulnerability cracked the shell wide open, exposing the raw wound beneath.
She approached softly, her bare feet padding against the mossy wood, and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pulling his solid frame against her chest.
"My son." She murmured, her voice a gentle caress laced with sorrow, her chin resting on his shoulder, braids brushing his ear as she held him close. "What ails you? Speak to your sa'nok."
Neteyam sighed, a heavy exhale that carried the weight of unspoken tempests, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He leaned into her embrace, the tension in his neck easing fractionally, but words remained locked behind clenched teeth.
How could she understand?
The gravity of his love for you, a Mangkwan woman, an enemy incarnate had pulled at him like an undertow, drowning his sense of self. Each day chipped away at his resolve, the choice between duty to clan and the selfish pull of his heart a torment that left him adrift. He was losing pieces of himself in the effort to bury the ache, to forge ahead as the future Olo'eyktan.
"I am tired." He finally whispered, his voice cracking as he wiped at his face with the back of his hand, the muscles in his jaw flexing as fresh tears welled. "I cannot do this anymore, Mom. The weight... it's crushing me."
Neytiri's heart fractured further at his confession, the raw despair in his tone echoing the cries of a wounded ikran. She tightened her hold, her arms encircling his torso, fingers splaying across the firm planes of his abdomen as if to anchor him to the world.
She had suspected for weeks that this shadow over him stemmed from you, the woman who had been his captive, the one whose escape had coincided with his unraveling. Whispers of your name in council meetings, the way his gaze sharpened at mentions of Mangkwan movements, it all pointed to a bond forged in secrecy and strife. But she said nothing, offering only the silent strength of her presence, her tail curling protectively around his leg. In the quiet, she sent a fervent prayer to Eywa, her mind weaving pleas through the neural network of the land.
Great Mother, guide my son through this storm. There must be purpose in his pain, a path unseen amid the chaos.
The night deepened around them, mother and son entwined in shared silence, until exhaustion finally claimed him, his head lolling against her shoulder. Neytiri guided him back to the marui, her steps steady despite the turmoil churning within.
Soon, dawn broke with the first calls of prolemuris swinging through the canopy, painting the forest in hues of gold and green. Neteyam rose with the sun, his face a mask once more, his eyes hooded and expression schooled into impassive resolve.
Today, duty demanded he scout the eastern fringes, perilously close to the glades where he had first glimpsed you weeks ago, your form a vision of lethal grace amid the raid's fury. He had avoided those paths like a festering wound but intelligence from outriders reported Mangkwan activity stirring anew and evasion was no longer an option.
He joined Jake and Neytiri at the ikran roost, along with a cadre of warriors.
Neytiri watched him from afar as he checked his bowstring, the morning light catching the subtle sheen of sweat on his brow from the humid air. Memories of the previous night flooded her, the vulnerability in his tears, the plea in his voice and now, seeing him revert to this emotionless sentinel, her worry deepened like roots delving into soil. His movements were precise and efficient but there was no spark, no anticipation in his posture.
Alayni hovered at the periphery, her presence a flutter of nervous energy amid the preparations. She had risen early, her cheeks flushed with the thrill of impending union, and now she approached Neteyam with a sway in her step, the beads of her top clinking softly. Without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his cheek, the kiss lingering a beat too long, her hand brushing the curve of his arm, voice soft and adoring, eyes sparkling with feigned innocence as she pulled back slightly.
"Stay safe, Neteyam. Come back to me whole."
He nodded, the motion mechanical, his golden eyes sliding past her without warmth, fixed instead on the horizon.
Neytiri observed the exchange, her tail flicking in subtle disapproval, the contrast between Alayni's eagerness and her son's detachment a stark reminder of the fractures in his spirit and the duty they had handed to him.
The group saddled their ikrans, the massive creatures rumbling with impatience, wings unfurling like sails in the breeze. Neteyam mounted with fluid ease, his thighs gripping the creature's sides, the bond forming through their queues in a pulse of shared intent. With a collective cry, they ascended, the wind whipping through braids and loincloths as the forest shrank below, giving way to the vast expanse of floating mountains and vine-draped cliffs.
The skies were clear at first, the patrol weaving through thermal updrafts, Jake leading with hand signals sharp and commanding.
But peace shattered like fragile crystal, an ambush erupting from the clouds and the forest below, Mangkwan warriors on their own direhorses and winged mounts descending in a hail of fire-arrows and poisoned barbs. Flames licked at the air, ignited by incendiary tips, while the sharp whistle of shafts cut through the roar of wings.
Neytiri and Jake unleashed war cries that echoed across the valleys, primal and fierce, their ikrans diving into the fray. Neteyam clenched his teeth, the familiar surge of battle adrenaline sharpening his senses, but beneath it thrummed a deeper tension, his heart pounding not just from the clash, but from the scan of faces below, searching for yours amid the chaos.
No sign of you and the absence twisted like a knife at him. Disappointment that you weren't there for him to see once more and yet relief that you remained untouched by this violence.
He urged his ikran higher, bow drawn in a blur, arrows flying true to fell two attackers in mid-air, their bodies plummeting with guttural cries.
On the ground, Neytiri broke from the aerial skirmish, her ikran landing with a thud amid the underbrush as she spotted Varang, her form a whirlwind of aggression with war paint streaking her face in crimson patterns.
They clashed blades, Neytiri's movements a dance of lethal precision, her body twisting to evade a swipe snarling with protective fury, eyes blazing as she parried, the clash of metal ringing like thunder. Jake and the other warriors followed suit, dropping to engage the Mangkwan foot soldiers, the forest erupting into a symphony of grunts, screams, and the sizzle of flames devouring foliage.
Neteyam circled above, his ikran banking sharply to loose another volley, the wind tearing at his queue as he targeted a rider closing on Kiri's position.
It was going well, the Omatikaya numbers swelling as reinforcements crested a ridge until a shadow flickered in his periphery. An arrow, swift and unerring, punched into his chest just below the collarbone, the impact a searing bloom of agony that stole his breath. His grip faltered, the bow slipping from numb fingers, and he tumbled from his ikran, the world spinning in a vortex of sky and green.
Neytiri gasped, her head snapping upward mid-fight, horror etching her features as she saw her son plummeting as a dark silhouette against the sun. Jake's roar joined hers, raw and desperate as his face contorted in dread, fists clenching around his knife as he shouted orders to cover.
Neteyam fell far, the ground rushing up mercilessly as his body slammed into the earth with a sickening thud, head bouncing against a root, his vision exploding in stars before blackness edged in.
"Neteyam!" Neytiri's scream tore from her throat, a mother's anguish that pierced the din of battle.
The spot where he fell into was an inferno's cradle, flames from stray arrows encircling the clearing, vines crackling and popping as they fed the blaze. Smoke billowed thick and acrid and without intervention, the fire would claim him, his labored breaths already ragged from the embedded shaft and the impact of the fall.
You arrived on the fringes of the skirmish, the scene unfolding like a nightmare etched in firelight. Your eyes widened at the sight, Neteyam crumpled amid the chaos, his chest heaving around the protruding arrow, blood staining the azure expanse of his torso in rivulets that soaked his harness. Your heart clenched as a vise of unwelcomed emotion squeezed it tight, the pulse of it echoing in your ears over the clash of weapons. Torn, you gripped your bow tighter, gaze flicking to your sister locked in combat with Neytiri then to your warriors pressing the attack.
Aid them, your people and your blood or the enemy who had haunted your thoughts, his touch a ghost that lingered in fevered dreams?
He's the enemy. Let him burn, let the flames erase the complication he brought to my life.
You turned your back, the wind catching the loose strands of your braids, whipping them across your face like accusations. But your body halted, muscles locking as if Eywa herself rooted you in place.
You couldn'tâwouldn'tâleave him to this end.
The weight of what passed between you, the tangled web of resentment and reluctant pull, demanded closure. This would be the last, a one final act to sever the thread, to walk away unburdened. With a curse under your breath, you ran to him, your legs carrying you through the underbrush.
The heat battered you as you reached the flames' edge, the air shimmering with intensity but you plunged in, hauling his weighty form by the arms. His body was heavy, limp yet solid, shoulders broad and unyielding even in unconsciousness, the corded strength of his arms dragging across the scorched earth.
You pulled him free, grunting with effort, the muscles in your back flexing under the strain. Laying him on clearer ground, you assessed the damage. The arrow jutting from his chest, fletching charred at the edges, blood pulsing steadily from the wound, soaking the ground in dark pools.
You bit your lip, the sharp sting grounding you as concern warred with caution.
The severity was dire, his pulse thready under your probing fingers. But you were not just a mere warrior, you were also a healer and a tsakarem, healing coursed through your veins like the forest's lifeblood even with the violence in your being.
Kneeling beside him, your hands moved with practiced urgency, pressing woven leaves from your pouch against the entry to staunch the flow, murmuring ancient invocations to Eywa for mercy. The herbs' bitter scent mingled with the metallic tang of blood, your fingers smeared crimson as you worked, the curve of your neck arching forward in concentration, eyes fierce with determination.
Varang spotted you from across the fray, her snarl twisting her features mid-clash with Neytiri, eyes narrowing in disbelief and fury voice booming over the din, laced with betrayal as she parried a strike. "(Y/N)! What are you doing? Come, we have to leave!"
Neytiri, locked in the duel, glanced toward the sound, her gaze landing on you bent over her son, a flicker of stunned gratitude warring with the battle's rage in her.
More Omatikaya warriors surged forward, tipping the scales, forcing the Mangkwan to retreat.
You didn't turn, didn't acknowledge the call. Your focus absolute, hands pressing firmly to seal the wound, willing his life to hold.
Varang shot you one last glare, venomous and pained, before snarling at Neytiri with a guttural promise of unfinished business and then she signaled the fall back. Her warriors melted into the trees, their forms thundering away, leaving the air thick with smoke and the echo of conflict.
Your focus narrowed to the rise and fall of Neteyam's chest, each shallow breath a fragile tether to life, the arrow's shaft now crudely bound but the wound beneath pulsing with insistent threat. Sweat beaded along your temple, tracing a cool path down the arch of your cheekbone, your eyes locked on his face, the sharp angles softened in unconsciousness, the full curve of his lips parted as if in silent plea.
You didn't notice the delicate swirl of an atokirina, that ethereal seed of Eywa, drifting lazily on an unseen current, hovering above you both like a benediction unspoken.
Neytiri saw it, though. Her golden gaze catching the pale spinner as it lingered, a luminous point against the hazy sky, before floating onward. Her breath hitched, a profound shiver rippling through her frame, her shoulders seeming to pulse in quiet awe.
Eywa's will.
She broke from the fray with Jake at her side, their footfalls urgent through the trampled ferns, weapons still gripped tight but lowered in the face of this revelation.
You sensed their approach before you saw them, the rustle of leaves and the heavy cadence of warrior steps pulling your attention. Instinct flared of enemies closing in and you hissed low, a feral sound vibrating from your throat as you shifted away from Neteyam, your body coiling like a viper ready to strike. Your tail lashed behind you, the tip slicing the air with agitation, while your fingers twitched toward the knife at your hip, the leather sheath warm against your hip bone.
They were still foes, the Omatikaya who had chained you and humiliated you and you'd meet them with fangs bared, your toned legs braced against the earth, ready to spring.
Jake opened his mouth, his broad jaw setting with the intent to command, but Neytiri's voice cut through first, steady and resonant, her eyes fierce yet softened by gratitude, one hand extended palm-up in a gesture of uneasy truce. "You will come with us."
He paused, confusion flickering across his scarred features, but he moved without protest, kneeling to gather Neteyam's limp form. The future leader's weight sagged in his father's arms, head lolling against Jake's shoulder, the azure skin of his neck exposed in vulnerable slackness.
Other warriors converged, their ikrans circling low with throaty calls, assisting as Jake hoisted Neteyam toward the nearest mount, muscles bulging under the strain along his arms and back, the harness straps digging into his flesh.
You snarled at Neytiri, the sound raw and defiant, your tail flicking sharper now, brushing against the back of your calves as your fangs glinted in the dappled light. Your posture was rigid with suspicion as you rose to your full height, the beaded strands of your top shifting with the heave of your chest. "I will not be your captive again. Touch me and I'll carve my freedom from your hides."
Neytiri regarded you, her own tail curling thoughtfully at her side, the fire in your eyes mirroring the unyielding spark she knew from her own youth, the same blaze that had drawn Jake to her across clan lines.
Mercy stirred in her chest, unbidden and perplexing. Was it the debt of your aid to her son or the atokirina's silent sign that compelled her?
She straightened, her silhouette cutting a commanding figure against the fading smoke, voice firm and laced with an undercurrent of respect as she turned toward her ikran. "You will not be captive. You saved him, pulled him from Eywa's grasp. I believe the Great Mother has plans. Come, you waste time."
Suspicion coiled tight in your gut, a serpent ready to strike, yet beneath it hummed an inexplicable pull. A whisper urging yes, born of exhaustion, of the chaos you'd wrought by choosing him over your kin.
You hissed once more, baring your fangs in a final warning as your lips curled back, the sharp points catching the light as your ears flattened against your skull. "Lie to me and I will not hesitate to draw my blade even if it means my end."
She met your gaze without flinching, recognizing the kindred fire, the warrior's unbreaking will. With a nod, she mounted her ikran, the bond queue connecting in a soft neural sigh, wings unfurling with a leathery snap.
You approached cautiously, every sense alert. The warmth of the creature's hide under your palms as you swung up behind her, your thighs clamping around its sides, the curve of your hips settling against Neytiri's back. The ascent was swift, wind tearing at your braids, carrying the scent of singed earth and distant rain as the group soared towards their home.
The village emerged like a living tapestry below.
Jake dismounted first upon landing, Neteyam's body cradled securely in his arms, the young warrior's limbs dangling limply, blood crusting along the wound's edges. He ran toward Mo'at's healing marui, feet pounding the woven platforms, Neytiri and you following at a urgent pace.
Eyes turned as you passed, Omatikaya faces hardening at the sight of your Mangkwan markings, the ash remnants of war paint streaking your arms and thighs, whispers rippling like wind through reeds. You ignored them, chin lifted defiantly, your strides long and purposeful, the sway of your hips fluid despite the knot of unease in your belly.
Inside the marui, the air hung thick with the aroma of medicinal pastes and smoldering herbs, shelves lined with jars of glowing extracts. Mo'at moved with ancient grace, her wrinkled skin etched with the wisdom of seasons, drawing Neteyam onto a low pallet woven from supple vines. Her hands, gnarled yet precise, peeled back the hasty bandages you'd applied, assessing the damage with a cluck of her tongue as her eyes narrowed in concentration, fingers probing the inflamed flesh around the arrow's path.
You shifted uncomfortably near the entrance, arms crossed over your chest, the soft swell of your breasts pressing against the crossed forearms, your bare midriff taut with tension.
What madness had brought you here, into the heart of enmity? Why save this man, the one whispered to be bound to another in mating rites, his future woven without you?
Once assured of his survival, you'd slip away, beg for Varang's mercy, atone for the betrayal etched in your choice to heal, to drag him from flames.
Neytiri noticed the storm brewing in your eyes, the way your shoulders hunched slightly under invisible weight. She guided you to a woven mat beside her, her touch light on your elbow as she settled cross-legged.
"Sit. The weight you carry shows in your eyes."
Jake hovered nearby, his confusion etched in the furrow of his brow, arms still bearing faint smears of his son's blood as he glanced between you and Neytiri, tone edged with bewilderment. "Neytiri, why bring her? She's Mangkwan, an enemy blood in our home."
Mo'at's voice rose then, steady and authoritative, cutting the tension as she worked a poultice into the wound her movements rhythmic, the paste's earthy scent filling the space. "He is in critical condition. The arrow pierced deep, nicking the lung's edge. Without the temporary aid to stem the bleeding, he would have crossed to Eywa's embrace already."
Both parents turned to you, realization dawning as Neytiri's gaze held quiet thanks, Jake's a grudging respect.
"And the head trauma is severe, his skull bruised from the fall so visions may haunt him upon waking. He will recover but stress must be barred from his path. No extremes of anger or despair, lest the balance tip and fracture his spirit. Do not put him in situations where he will experience such."
Jake and Neytiri nodded solemnly, Jake's hand squeezing his mate's shoulder, resolve hardening his features. "We'll guard him like the tree itself."
You sat quietly, the breath easing from your lungs in a slow sigh of relief, your fingers unclenching from where they'd dug into your palms, leaving crescent marks on the soft pads.
He would live, the man whose golden eyes had pierced your defenses, whose touch lingered like a forbidden echo.
Neytiri looked at you then, not through the lens of a deadly warrior but as a mother whose heart swelled with gratitude, her expression softening, the lines around her eyes crinkling with unspoken emotion. "You have our thanks. Your hands brought him back to us."
Rising, you met her gaze steadily, your voice even despite the turmoil tail curling loosely at your feet, posture straightening with resolve. "He breathes. My part is done. I will leave now before your people remembers what I am."
She shook her head gently as her braids swayed, tone insistent yet kind, a hand gesturing to the marui's depths. "Stay the night. The forest paths grow treacherous after battle and dawn will light your way clearer. Tomorrow, go with Eywa's guidance."
Hesitation gripped you as visions of Varang's wrath flashed along with her snarl of betrayal but the offer Neytiri gave bought time, a buffer against the storm you'd unleashed. You nodded curtly, the motion causing a loose braid to slip over your shoulder, brushing the gentle slope of your collarbone.
Mo'at interjected, her voice carrying the weight of authority as she pointed to a partitioned alcove, the entrance draped in soft kelp weaves. "There is space in the marui for you. Rest there, no harm under this roof will fall upon you."
You inclined your head uncomfortably, the unfamiliar kindness chafing like ill-fitted armor, and retreated to the indicated area.
The partition muffled the outer sounds, but voices filtered in with familiar cadences of concern, perhaps Neteyam's siblings clustering with worried murmurs or that scheming Alayni's honeyed tones probing for weakness.
You sighed deeply, sinking onto the low sleeping platform, the woven fibers cool against your skin. Gazing at your hands, still faintly stained with his blood and nails chipped from the frantic extraction, you felt the weight crash down.
What have I done?
Varang's face loomed in your mind, her loyalty unyielding and yet you betrayed her, your blood for him. A traitor in your own eyes, cast adrift by a mercy you couldn't explain, the contours of your form curling inward as doubt gnawed at your thoughts.
The first light of dawn filtered through the woven walls of the marui, casting a soft glow that danced across the kelp partitions like whispers from the great tree itself.
You stirred from a fitful sleep, the platform beneath you cradling the subtle curves of your body with its resilient fibers, though no true rest had really come.
The air hummed with distant murmurs, low voices laced with concern, the rustle of movements that spoke of vigil. Neteyam's family, no doubt, gathered in their quiet desperation.
Your eyelids fluttered open, eyes adjusting to the dim interior, a stray lock of ebony hair falling across your forehead, brushing the high plane of your cheek as you sat up. The faint ache in your muscles from the previous day's chaos lingered, a reminder of the flames you'd pulled him from, your frame still bearing the subtle smudges of ash along your arms and the line of your neck.
Pushing aside the drape with a steady hand, you stepped into the main chamber, the cool floor mats yielding under your bare feet, toes curling slightly against the texture. There they were, clustered around Neteyam's pallet. Neytiri's poised form kneeling closest, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his azure skin, while Jake stood sentinel nearby, his broad shoulders tense.
The siblings hovered at the edges, Tuk's small hands fidgeting with a beaded string, Lo'ak's jaw set in watchful silence, and Kiri sitting to the side with a faraway look.
You remembered them from his stories when he was pestering you and you remembered how you tried so hard to tune him out as you rolled your eyes.
Neteyam's chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, his features serene in repose, full lips slightly parted as if dreaming of battles yet unfought.
Your gaze locked with Neytiri's across the space, her golden eyes holding a depth of unspoken understanding, the faint lines at their corners deepening as she rose fluidly. The others' stares prickled your skin. They were curious and wary, the weight of enmity pressing like unseen hands, save for Jake whose attention remained fixed on his son, oblivious or perhaps deliberately so.
You held your ground, chin lifting subtly, the soft undulation of your torso accentuated by the morning light as it played over the beaded strands draping your chest.
Her voice emerged, a hand extending in quiet invitation as she closed the distance, the warmth of her presence cutting through the chill of suspicion. "Are you about to head out? The paths await but let me see you safely beyond our borders."
You nodded once, the motion causing your braids to shift, one grazing the delicate hollow of your throat.
Before words could form, her fingers encircled your wrist, firm but not forceful, the calluses of a huntress brushing your smoother skin. "Okay, I'll take you with my ikran. The skies are clearer at this hour."
Together, you moved toward the exit, your steps synchronized in wary alliance, the chamber's herbal scents fading behind you. Halfway there, Tuk's voice pierced the air like a sudden arrow, high-pitched with unbridled joy as her tiny frame bounced as she pointed, eyes wide with wonder.
"Neteyam! You're awake!"
Neytiri gasped beside you, a sharp intake that reverberated through her body, her grip tightening momentarily on your arm before releasing as she whirled, long legs carrying her back in a blur of urgency. His family converged instantly, a protective circle forming around the pallet, voices overlapping in a cacophony of relief.
Jake's baritone cut through as his hand raised in caution, posture rigid as he scanned his children's eager faces. "Easy, give him space. Let him breathe."
You didn't turn, didn't allow the pull of curiosity to drag you back.
Relief flickered in your chest that he lived, that his spirit is unbroken but seeing him now, vulnerable and surrounded by their bond, stirred too much. Your tail flicked once, a subtle lash against your calf, as you fixed your gaze on the exit, the woven flap beckoning like freedom's edge.
A groan echoed from the pallet, low and pained, followed by Neytiri's voice, thick with emotion as tears glistened on her lashes then spilling down the curve of her cheek as she cupped his face, her thumbs tracing the strong line of his jaw.
"Ma Teyam, my child, you're awake. Eywa has returned you to us."
Neteyam's first words hung in the air, raspy yet insistent, freezing you mid-step as his voice threaded confusion and longing, golden eyes blinking open to search the faces around him. "Where's my mate?"
Your heart clenched like a fist around a thorned vine, a sharp twist that stole your breath, the muscles of your back tensing beneath the thin straps of your top.
He meant her, that conniving soft-spoken healer, the one fate had chained him to.
The betrayal you'd wrought for his sake soured further, urging you toward escape, but Neytiri remained entangled in the moment, her form a barrier you couldn't breach without drawing eyes.
He spoke again, urgency sharpening his tone as he propped himself up slightly on one elbow, the defined planes of his abdomen flexing under the strain, beads of sweat gathering along his collarbone. "Where is my mate? Why is she not here? Where is (Y/N)?"
Silence crashed over the marui like a sudden storm, thick and suffocating, broken only by the faint crackle of a nearby incense burner. You couldn't believe the words echoing in your ears. Your name on his lips like a claim, a delusion born of fever or fracture. His family still shielded him, their bodies a living wall, blocking any chance of his gaze finding you.
What madness gripped him?
Jake broke the hush, his voice measured, laced with concern as he kneeled closer, one large hand resting on Neteyam's shoulder, fingers splaying across the flesh there. "Kid, what do you mean mate? Talk to me, clear your head."
Neteyam frowned, confusion etching furrows across his forehead, his ears twitching slightly as he tilted his head, the kuru at his back shifting against the pallet as he scanned the circle of faces. "Huh? She's my mate. What do you mean what do I mean, Dad? We chose each other, it is done."
Neytiri exchanged a fleeting glance with Jake, her expression a mask of reassurance as she smiled gently, though her eyes held a storm of questions as she leaned in, her braids falling forward to brush his arm. "What's the last thing you remember, Ma Teyam? Tell your sa'nok, help us understand."
He groaned again, wincing as he pressed a hand to his temple, his fingers threading through his hair as his voice faltered, piecing together fragments like scattered leaves.
"We were together in the forest... deep in the glade, away from eyes. We mated, bound our kuru. I remember the warmth of her, falling asleep in her arms... then nothing. I woke up now. Why am I here? Where is she?"
Jake's mouth parted, words forming on the edge of his tongue but Neytiri's hand clamped onto his forearm, urgent and unyielding as her nails digged lightly into his skin, a silent reminder of her mother's grave warning, her gaze flicking to the tsahik for affirmation.
No stress, no shadows to cloud his fragile recovery.
Mo'at inclined her head subtly from her perch nearby, her weathered features serene, the wisdom in her eyes underscoring the peril of truths unspoken.
However, shock rippled through you like a current, your pulse thundering in your ears, the arch of your neck flushing with heat.
What sorcery had befallen this demon blood?
The forest encounter, the stolen touches, and the heated whispers had been a fever dream of his desire, not a true bonding. Yet here he proclaimed it as reality, your name woven into his delirium.
Your fingers curled at your sides, nails biting into palms, the soft pads whitening under pressure.
Jake rose then, his frame casting a long shadow as he leaned toward Neytiri whispering low, his jaw clenched in resolve. "I'll get Norm, let him scan the boy's head, figure out what's twisted in there."
He straightened, striding past you with purposeful steps.
You shifted sideways instinctively, pressing against the wall's curve, your body folding into the shadows to evade Neteyam's searching eyes, the faint scent of his blood still clinging to your skin like a ghost.
The drape parted again, admitting Alayni in a rush of hurried grace, her form halting abruptly at the sight of you lingering near the threshold. Her face fell, features draining of color, eyes widening in a flash of alarm as her lips parted in silent accusation, her tail coiling tight behind her as panic etched sharp lines around her mouth.
What is she doing here?
The enemy in their sanctum, everyone would know her schemes, the whispers of betrayal she'd sown.
You couldn't suppress the satisfied smirk curling your lips, a predatory glint in your gaze as you savored the tremor in her composure, the way her fingers twisted the hem of her wrap.
She glared daggers, a venomous spark in her eyes, before hurrying inside voice pitched with concern, dropping to her knees beside the pallet, her hand reached out to caress his cheek, nails grazing the smooth azure expanse. "Neteyam, are you okay? We've been so worriedâ"
He recoiled at her touch, jerking back with a hiss as his body tensed, shoulders hunching as if her fingers burned, golden eyes narrowing in instinctive rejection. "Don't touch me. My mate would not like that, keep your hands to yourself."
Alayni froze, confusion clouding her features as she glanced around the circle, her posture crumbling slightly. The gentle swell of her chest heaving with rapid breaths, seeking answers in their stunned expressions. First, you're here like some honored guest, unwatched and unchained and now Neteyam denying their bond, as if the ceremonies planned for days hence meant nothing.
"What do you mean? You have no mate, Neteyam. We will be mated in several days. It's all arranged, for the clanâ"
His stare was blank and unyielding as he leaned away further, the muscles along his arms corded with tension, voice flat with conviction that brooked no argument. "I am mated, Alayni. Do not disrespect me and her by saying that. I've chosen, Eywa witnessed it."
Alayni's mouth opened for protest, words tumbling forth in a desperate rush as her hands gestured wildly but Lo'ak's fingers closed around her wrist, firm and ungentle, his grip steady as he pulled her back with a warning growl low in his throat.
"Enough, let him rest. You're making it worse."
Neytiri forced a smile then, thin and strained as she rose to her full height, her frame interposing as she pried Alayni from Lo'ak's hold, guiding her toward the entrance with a maternal hand on her shoulder.
She had once favored the girl.
Her respectful demeanor, the sweet softness that promised stability for her son, the shy affections that bloomed like night flowers. It was why she'd championed the union, envisioning harmony in their future. But now, Alayni's invasiveness grated, a threat to the delicate balance of Neteyam's healing. What she'd once seen as endearing now loomed as disruption, especially with the girl's recent clinginess fraying nerves that are already taut.
Her tone remained even, laced with polite finality as she steered Alayni through the drape, the fabric whispering against their forms. "Go now, child, rest and prepare for the day's duties. He'll need quiet to mend, we'll call when he's stronger."
Alayni resisted briefly, a flicker of indignation in her eyes, but Neytiri's unyielding gaze quelled it. As she was ushered out, you caught her eye from behind Neytiri's shoulder, your smirk deepening into something triumphant as your lips curved wickedly, the sharp tips of your fangs peeking as you watched her retreat.
Stupid bitch, starting to pay her karma.
The satisfaction bloomed warm in your chest, a counter to the earlier ache at the unraveling the web she'd spun.
The marui's air thickened with the scent of medicinal herbs and lingering tension as footsteps approached from beyond the drape. The flap parted with a soft rustle, admitting Jake first followed by a figure that made your eyes narrow in instinctive distrust.
He was another of those sky people avatars, shorter and bulkier than the Na'vi around him, with blue skin stretched over an unfamiliar musculature, his movements jerky and mechanical as he hauled a satchel bulging with strange, gleaming devices. In your eyes, he was just another demon in disguise, his eyes too round and probing behind a mask of false familiarity.
Neteyam's family parted slightly to allow them access, his golden gaze widening in confusion propping himself up on his elbows despite the wince that tugged at his full lips, the cords of his neck straining as he tilted his head.
"Dad? Norm? What's all this?" His voice carried a mix of bewilderment and faint alarm, the sharp angles of his shoulders tensing beneath the thin covering draped over his torso.
Jake placed a reassuring hand on his son's arm, the gesture firm yet gentle. "Just a check-up, son. Norm here's gonna make sure everything's healing right, no big deal."
Norm nodded efficiently, unpacking his tools with practiced haste. A handheld scanner humming to life, its blue light flickering like captured bioluminescence, and thin probes that beeped softly as they connected to Neteyam's temple and chest. The warrior submitted with reluctant patience, his ears flicking at each unfamiliar sensation as his chest rose and fell in shallow rhythms, the bandaged expanse over his ribs shifting with each breath.
You remained unseen, a ghost in the periphery, gratitude coiling in your gut that he hadn't glimpsed you yet, sparing you the complication of his fractured gaze.
The assessment dragged on, Norm murmuring readings under his breath, Jake hovering like a sentinel. Finally, they withdrew, the group filing out into the humid morning air. Norm repacking his gear with a satisfied grunt, Mo'at gliding behind with her staff tapping rhythmically, Neytiri close at her heel, her posture a blend of maternal poise and veiled anxiety.
Curiosity tugged at you drawing your steps toward the exit despite the risk. You hovered just inside, the soft swell of your hips swaying faintly as you strained to catch their words, the faint breeze carrying snippets through the kelp weave.
Norm's voice filtered back, clinical and detached gesturing vaguely at the air as if diagramming an invisible wound.
"Selective amnesia, most likely from the trauma to his skull. Concussions like that can scramble memories, make him fill in gaps with what his mind wants to believe. It'll probably clear up with rest but no pushing him. Avoid contradictions, let it fade naturally."
Mo'at's response came sharp and authoritative, her aged frame straightening one hand raised in admonition. "Precisely. No stress, Jake Sully. His spirit is fragile as fresh-woven thread, negative winds could unravel it further."
Jake glanced over his shoulder then, his eyes locking onto yours through the partial drape.
You met his stare blankly, your expression a mask of cool indifference, the line of your jaw set firm, lashes casting shadows over your irises.
He sighed heavily, the sound rumbling from his chest like distant thunder as he rubbed a hand over his hair before nodding to Mo'at. "Understood. Thanks, Norm. Appreciate you coming out here on short notice."
He clapped the avatar on the back, steering him toward the path, their forms receding into the foliage.
Mo'at turned fully to you then, her wrinkled features softening into a knowing smile as she extended a gnarled hand in gentle summons, the beads on her bracelets clinking softly. "Come, child. He searches for you. Eywa's threads bind him still even in confusion."
Hesitation rooted you for a beat, your bare feet shifting against the mat, toes flexing into the fibers as doubt warred with obligation. But you moved forward, weaving through the siblings' loose circle, your presence rippling the air like a stone in still water. Neytiri observed from the side, her arms crossed over her chest, the arch of her back rigid with unspoken calculations.
Neteyam's eyes ignited at the sight of you, a spark of pure recognition and warmth flooding their golden depths as his face brightened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a boyish smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes. "Baby, where have you been? I've been calling for you. Come here, let me see you."
Words failed you, caught in the tangle of your throat like thorns. Your pulse quickened, the delicate skin at your wrists flushing as you glanced desperately at Neytiri. She stepped in seamlessly, her voice a soothing murmur kneeling beside him. "She was just helping Mo'at with some herbs, Ma Teyam. Nothing to worry over. You're safe now, all of us here."
He nodded absently, already shifting to rise as his elbows dug into the padding, his torso twisting with intent, the play of muscles along his flanks evident even through the strain. But a sharp hiss escaped him as pain lanced through his chest. He glanced down, fingers probing the white bandages wrapped taut around his ribs, tracing the edges where faint bloodstains bloomed, his brow furrowing in dawning alarm.
"What happened? Why am I... like this?"
Neytiri's response flowed quick and fabricated, her tail flicking once in reassurance as she pressed him back gently, palms flat against his shoulders. "A minor fall during a hunt, nothing more. You're mending well but rest is key. No straining this body of yours."
Lo'ak chimed in from his perch nearby, his tone laced with concern as he leaned forward, one hand hovering as if ready to steady him. "Yeah bro, don't push it. You've been out cold, give yourself a break."
Tuk, unable to contain her awe any longer, stared up at you with unabashed wonder, her small fingers twisting in her lap, round cheeks dimpling as she beamed, the innocence in her voice cutting through the heaviness.
"You're pretty like the glowing vines at night."
Neteyam caught the words, his grin widening into something radiant and possessive as he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest despite the wince it provoked, his gaze raking over you with unabashed adoration. "She is, isn't she? Eywa blessed me beyond measure with the most beautiful woman as my mate."
Heat bloomed across your cheeks, a traitorous warmth that clashed with the snarl building in your chest. Your fangs ached to bare but Neytiri's sharp glance pinned you, her eyes narrowing imperceptibly, a silent command as she rose.
"I'll speak with her first, important matters."
She drew you aside into a quieter nook, the privacy of the woven screen shielding your exchange, her sigh heavy with exhaustion as her shoulders slumped slightly, the taper of her ears drooping as she met your eyes. "Please, play along just until his memories return. It's a delicate weave we're threading here."
A hiss bubbled up, low and frustrated, your claws flexing at your sides, a flicker of resentment darkening your features.
This wasn't the plan. It was only saving him from the flames and slipping away into the wilds. But now pretending this farce of a bond?
It deepened the chasm with Varang, a blade twisted further into your sister's trust, your loyalty fracturing like dry earth under storm.
Yet you exhaled sharply, the breath stirring the beads at your throat. "Just for today then I'll leave. I've lingered too long already, debts are paid."
Gratitude softened Neytiri's gaze, her hand squeezing your forearm in quiet alliance. "Thank you. Eywa sees your heart."
Eywa, their false goddess.
You refrained from speaking it and returned to the pallet together, his siblings' eyes tracking your approach.
Mo'at interjected then, her voice carrying the weight of authority as she gestured toward the exit with her staff, the carved wood glinting. "He may leave the healing hut now. Rest in your family marui where care is close."
Neteyam's confusion creased his forehead anew as he tilted his head, his kuru swaying as he pushed to sit fully, ignoring the twinge in his side. "Why the family marui? I have our own, shared with my mate. That's where I belong, with her."
Neytiri froze for a heartbeat then mustered a feigned grin, her lips curving upward in playful conspiracy, though tension lined her jaw. "Oh yes, of course you can sleep there. Silly of us to forget."
Relief lit Neteyam's face, a grin splitting wide as he eased to his feet with Lo'ak's support, his brother's arm slung around his waist, the lean power of his legs steadying as he leaned into the aid.
You walked in silence beside Neytiri, your steps measured, the sway of your form guarded against his occasional glances.
She guided the group to a nearby empty marui, its entrance framed by dangling vines that swayed like welcoming tendrils, the interior sparse but inviting with a low cot piled with fresh furs.
"I'll bring your things later." Neytiri explained smoothly as she waved a hand at the empty space, her posture relaxed in fabrication. "You forgot them before, rushing off to tend to (Y/N). Always so devoted."
Neteyam nodded, his attention fixed on you. Golden eyes tracing the cascade of your braids down your back, the subtle glow of your skin under the filtered light, though you kept your gaze averted, fixed on the horizon.
Kiri approached then, her touch feather-light on your arm in a soft pat, wordless solidarity in her empathetic eyes before she stepped back.
Tuk waved enthusiastically as she bounced on her toes, her laughter bubbling. "Bye! Take care of him, he's grumpy when hurt!"
Lo'ak gave a curt nod and Neytiri mirroring it with a final meaningful look before they departed, leaving the marui's quiet to envelop you.
You lingered at the entrance, the woven threshold framing your silhouette, arms crossed over the gentle rise of your chest as Neteyam settled onto the cot, his form reclining against the bolsters, long legs stretching out, the bandage peeking from beneath his wrap as he watched you expectantly.
"Baby, what are you doing all the way over there? Come here. I've missed you too much already."
You restrained the urge to roll your eyes, the old grudge simmering within you. Alayni's shadow, the secrets he'd buried back then, it fueled a quiet fury that tightened your lips. With deliberate slowness, you crossed the space, perching on the cot's edge at a careful distance, the furs dipping under your weight, your thighs pressing together in restrained tension.
He frowned at the gap reaching out, his hand encircling your waist with insistent warmth, drawing you nearer until your hip brushed his, the heat of his body seeping through the thin barriers. "Why so far?"
Without waiting, he leaned in, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His breath ghosting over the sensitive skin there before his lips pressed soft lingering pecks along the column of your throat, tracing the pulse that fluttered beneath.
You shifted away slightly, a hand rising to his chest, gentle but firm against the bandaged expanse to halt him. "You must not move so much, your wound will reopen if you keep this up."
"I don't care, the ache is nothing compared to being without you." He dismissed it with a low hum undeterred, nosing deeper and inhaling your scent like a lifeline, his free arm looping around your midriff to anchor you. "You always smell so good."
Your eyes rolled despite yourself, exasperation sharpening your tone as you leaned back just enough to create space, though his hold persisted. "Do you not listen? Rest means rest, not this."
A grin curved his lips, playful and unrepentant as his eyes sparkled with mischief. He tilted his head, the sharp line of his jaw brushing your shoulder. "I do listen but my mate is just so irresistible. How can I resist when you're right here, pulling me like the tide?"
The words ignited a storm within you. The urge to drive your claws into his chest, to end this delusion with finality, to flee into the jungle's embrace, and beneath it all, a treacherous pull to lean in, to claim those lips and drown the betrayal.
Your breath hitched, eyes flashing as your voice dropped to a warning growl. "If you do not stop, you will sleep in your family's marui tonight, without me."
He chuckled, the sound rich and affectionate, as he tugged you flush against him now, his head resting on your shoulder, one hand tracing idle patterns along your arm, savoring the silken texture of your skin. "I don't want to be away from you, ever. Even for a night. You're my world, (Y/N). Tell me you feel it too. The bond, the pull. We've always been this way, haven't we?"
You stiffened, the weight of his touches pressing like chains, his body molding to yours, warm and insistent, nuzzling closer as if to weave your scents together anew.
"Neteyam..." It came out softer than intended, a conflicted murmur as your hand hovered over his, torn between pushing away and letting it linger. "Just... be still. For now."
He hummed contentedly and undaunted, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone, his fingers interlacing with yours, thumb stroking the back of your hand in slow circles. "As you wish but I'm not letting go of you."
The marui fell into a charged hush, his affection a balm and a burden, the line between pretense and peril blurring with every shared breath.
You spent the entire day ensnared in Neteyam's unyielding embrace, his body a constant insistent presence against yours. He was every bit the spoiled brat his amnesia painted him to be. Demanding, playful, and utterly oblivious to the storm raging within you. From the moment the morning light had fully crested the horizon, he refused to release your hand, his fingers interlaced with yours in a grip that was both tender and possessive, the calluses on his palms rough against your smoother skin.
"Feed me." He murmured during the midday meal, his voice a low rumble and laced with mischief.
He propped himself up on one elbow, the lean muscles of his forearm flexing as he gestured to the woven basket of fruits and roasted kelp strips. His golden eyes sparkled with expectation, the sharp angles of his cheekbones highlighted by the soft luminescence filtering in. You hesitated, the curve of your shoulders tensing beneath the lightweight shawl draped over them, but his pout, lips pursing in exaggerated plea, drew a reluctant sigh from you.
Slicing a piece of sweetfruit with your knife, its juice glistening on the blade like dew, you held it to his mouth. He leaned forward eagerly but paused just before taking it. His breath warm against your fingertips, eyes locking onto yours with feigned innocence.
"A kiss first." He demanded softly, tilting his head so his kuru brushed your thigh. "For every bite. It's our thing, remember?"
Irritation flared hot in your chest, your free hand itching to deliver a sharp smack to that smug jawline as the taper of his ears twitched in anticipation. Yet, beneath the annoyance, a treacherous warmth bloomed low in your belly, spreading like sunlight through mist. His affection, fabricated or not, wrapped around you like the humid air itself. You leaned in grudgingly, pressing your lips to his in a brief chaste touch, your mouth soft against the firm warmth of his, the faint taste of herbs from his earlier tonic lingering.
He hummed in satisfaction, finally accepting the fruit, chewing slowly while his gaze never left your face.
This ritual repeated through the afternoon. Bite after bite, kiss after kiss, each one pulling you deeper into the pretense. His laughter bubbled up between mouthfuls, light and carefree as his chest vibrated with the sound, though he winced slightly when it jostled his bandaged ribs, the white wrapping stark against his azure skin.
"You're too good to me." He said after one particularly lingering peck, his hand sliding up your arm to trace the delicate ridge of your collarbone. "How did I ever deserve you, baby?"
You only answered with an eye roll, willing yourself to calm.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the interior in hues of amber and violet, he grew more reflective, his clinginess evolving into quiet confessions. He pulled you onto the furs beside him, your legs tangling with his as he recounted the day he first laid eyes on you, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, fingers idly stroking the cascade of your braids that spilled over your shoulder.
"It was during that raid, I thought you were the most beautiful creature Eywa ever wove, all fire and grace in one breath. Even with your blade at my throat, I couldn't look away."
Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, your pulse thrumming in your ears as you absorbed his words. The memory twisted in your mind, the confrontation, the kiss that had ignited everything yet led to this tangled web. Finally, you broke the quiet, your voice steady despite the knot in your throat shifting slightly, the soft swell of your hips pressing into the furs as you turned to face him.
"What do you think of Alayni?"
He blinked, surprise flickering across his features, the smooth plane of his forehead creasing. "Alayni? She's... nice. She's been around since we were children, always helping with the young ones or joining hunts. Reliable, like a sister almost."
The answer hung there, innocuous yet loaded. You pressed further, curiosity sharpening your tone with your eyes narrowing, lashes casting faint shadows on your high cheekbones. "Do you like her?"
His eyes widened, golden irises flaring with incredulity, leaning back as if the question physically pushed him.
"Like her? How could you even ask that when I burn for you alone?" He shook his head, a soft laugh escaping him, though it carried an edge of disbelief. "She's shown her interest. Blushing around me, weaving extra beads for my gear but I don't see her that way. Never have. My heart's been yours from the start."
You wanted to roll your eyes, the truth bubbling beneath your restraint.
Oh yes, but you were set to mate her if fate hadn't intervened.
The words clawed at your tongue but you swallowed them, maintaining the fragile peace.
He studied your expression, a sly smile curving his lips as he reached out to cup your chin, thumb brushing the plush curve of your lower lip. "Are you jealous? Tell me baby, does it sting knowing others vied for me?"
A snarl ripped from your throat, low and feral as you bared your fangs briefly, the lines of your neck corded with tension as you pulled back from his touch. "No. Jealousy is for the weak. I'm merely curious about your tangled loyalties."
His smile deepened, brimming with adoration as his eyes softened, he drew you nearer, his broad palm splaying across the small of your back.
"Alayni was just one of the candidates my parents pushed before I met you. They thought her steady, a good match for a future Olo'eyktan." He paused, gaze distant, reliving the memory of when you left. "I came to the marui where you were that night, heart heavy because I'd just learned they'd chosen her. I didn't want it, I wanted you. So I went there to confess everything, to seek comfort in your arms but I saw you with her first. She told you, didn't she? But twisted it to make it seem like it was decided long ago, that I was playing you all along. She lied, (Y/N). It wasn't set in stone, I was ready to fight it from the moment I knew."
Your eyes grew wide, the revelation crashing over you, pupils dilating in shock as pieces clicked into place.
So he hadn't been deceiving you, not entirely. The betrayal you'd nursed, the fury at his supposed duplicity... it shifted, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.
"I almost went through with it, you know. Why you fled with your sister that night, she said you wanted nothing to do with me. I believed her, let the pain fester." He chuckled then, the sound bland and tinged with bitterness as his shoulders rolled in a shrug, the play of tendons in his neck visible as he tilted his head. "But then you came back, told me the truth... we mated, formed tsaheylu under the stars. It was perfect until I woke up like this with no recollection of why I'm bandaged."
The words hung false in the air, his mind's desperate weave to fill the voids. None of it had happened, the bond a phantom of his selective forgetfulness. Frustration boiled within you, a scream trapped behind clenched teeth, claws aching to rake through flesh, to lash out at the cruel irony.
But you schooled your features into neutrality, jaw setting firm as you met his gaze evenly. "I... see."
Undeterred by your reserve, he pulled you closer, nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as his nose traced the sensitive hollow there, inhaling deeply as if committing your essence to memory. With a gentle tug, he guided you both down onto the furs. Mindful of his injury. you positioned carefully at his side, your head resting on the unbandaged plane of his shoulder, the rise and fall of his breathing syncing with yours.
"I see you." He whispered fervently, lips brushing your temple in soft reverent kisses, each one a feather-light promise. "Since the day you held that blade to my throat, your fire called to mine."
You bit your lip, the sharp sting grounding you amid the whirlwind, teeth pressing into the tender flesh, a faint metallic tang blooming as you held your silence.
His affection enveloped you like a cocoon, warm and suffocating, lulling the day into evening's embrace.
The next morning dawned with a hush, the first rays piercing the marui's weave before Neteyam's eyes fluttered open. You stirred early, slipping from his arms with the stealth of a shadow, your movements fluid and silent, the contours of your legs uncoiling as you rose, bare feet padding softly against the cool floor.
Pausing at the threshold, you cast one last look back at him, his handsome features softened in sleep with his lashes fanning dark against his cheeks, the strong bridge of his nose casting a subtle shadow, lips parted in quiet breaths that stirred the air.
A pang twisted in your chest before you turned away, vanishing into the misty paths without a backward glance.
You wouldn't wait for Neytiri. By then, Neteyam would stir, his questions a net you couldn't afford to tangle in further. The jungle welcomed you back, vines parting like old allies as you wove toward the treeline, the weight of departure lifting with each step. Just as the clan's central paths faded behind you, a figure emerged from the underbrush.
Alayni, her posture rigid with venom, arms crossed over her chest as she blocked your way, her eyes narrowed to slits.
"Had fun playing mates with mine? Taking advantage of his amnesia like the snake you are?" She spat, her voice dripping with accusation as she stepped closer, the aggressive sway of her hips belying the fury in her clenched fists.
You grinned at her, slow and evil, letting the malice curl your lips as your head tilted "Just as much fun as he had. Clinging, kissing, whispering sweet nothings. You should thank me for keeping him occupied."
She hissed lunging nearer, her breath hot and ragged as her fangs flashed. "Why are you even here? Skulking around like you belong?"
Your snarl matched hers, a guttural warning as your tail lashing behind you, claws extending slightly as you held your ground, the poised strength in your stance unyielding. "Don't worry, I'm leaving and never coming back. You won't have to betray your people again, teaming up with my sister to raid your own clan just to dispose of me in your twisted way."
Her grin twisted maliciously, a flash of triumph in her eyes lips pulling back in a sneer, one hand gesturing dismissively. "It was worth it. Every scream, every flame because it means Neteyam will be mine."
You pouted mockingly, the expression dripping with sarcasm as you puffed your cheeks slightly, eyes rolling in exaggerated pity.
"You had your people slaughtered, homes reduced to ash, all to eliminate me and claim him? You're not just delusional, you're a traitor through and through. Soon, your clan will uncover your rot and they'll see you for the venomous wretch you are."
Disgust curled your features, a final withering glance raking over her figure, the lines of your face hardening before you spun on your heel. Without another word, you melted into the foliage, the jungle swallowing your form whole, leaving her seething in the undergrowth.
The jungle's embrace felt mocking as you pushed through the dense foliage, the vines brushing against your arms like accusatory fingers. Your clan's territory loomed ahead, the familiar spires of woven huts rising against the canopy but the air hummed with a tension that set your nerves alight.
Once, the gazes that met yours were filled with awe, reverent whispers trailing your steps as the Tsakarem, the chosen one destined to weave Eywa's will into the clan's future next to your sister. Now, those same eyes shifted uneasily, darting away or narrowing in suspicion, the subtle flinch of shoulders and the hurried averting of faces speaking volumes.
You had betrayed them, after all, by dragging that Omatikaya warrior from the flames, his blood staining your hands as surely as your mercy had branded you a turncoat. Just as Alayni had sold her own people to the shadows for a chance at Neteyam's side, so had you fractured the bonds of your kin. The weight of it settled in your gut like river stones as you stepped into the clearing.
Whispers rippled through the gathered figures. Warriors pausing mid-stride, healers glancing up from their herbs with lips pressed thin.
Dread coiled tighter when she appeared.
Varang, your sister, emerging from the central marui like a specter carved from obsidian. Her presence commanded the space, broad shoulders squared beneath the weight of adorned armor, the scars across her arms a testament to battles won. But it was her face that chilled you. Blank, devoid of the fiery rage that usually ignited her amber eyes or twisted her full mouth into a snarl. This emptiness was worse, it was eerie and calculating, a void where her vicious fury should have roared.
"Tsmuke." You murmured, voice cracking despite your effort to steady it knees bending slightly as you lowered yourself in supplication, the soft curves of your torso shifting under the thin straps of your top. "Forgive me. I... I couldn't let him die there. Eywa's willâ"
"Eywa's will? The boy had you believing that false goddess who abandoned us?" She approached, her movements deliberate, the powerful swing of her tail betraying nothing.
Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your kuru with a gentleness that belied the threat as her nails grazed the sensitive neural tendrils, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine as she caressed it like a fragile vine. The touch was almost tender for her being yet it carried the promise of something darker.
"You are a traitor to your people." She said flatly, her voice a low monotone that echoed unnaturally in the hush as her eyes locked onto yours unblinking, the sharp angles of her jaw set like carved stone. "To your own sister. I should claim your kuru for that, sever it clean, or perhaps your head to remind all of divided hearts."
Horror bloomed cold in your chest as she drew her blade, raising it with fluid precision, the metal glinting in the dappled light, her biceps flexing with restrained power as she looped the edge toward your kuru. You breathed out sharply, bracing for the pain, your muscles tensing along your spine as your heart pounded against your ribs.
But she halted, the blade hovering inches from you before she withdrew it, letting your kuru slip free from her grasp. Her expression remained a mask of indifference, shoulders rolling back as she sheathed the weapon, the beads in her hair swaying with the motion. "You are not welcome here anymore. I have no use for divided loyalties, there is no place for traitors among the Mangkwan. Leave this place and if you ever return, I will not hesitate to forget you are my blood."
The words landed like a spear to the core, your heart plummeting into the pit of your stomach as a wave of nausea churned, you rose unsteadily, legs wobbling beneath the strength of your thighs. You bit your lip hard, the sharp sting drawing a bead of blood that you tasted metallic on your tongue, and turned away without another plea. The clan's stares burned into your back as you walked, first heavy steps then a numb stride, your heart a leaden ache in your chest.
Exile.
You belonged nowhere now, a ghost adrift in Pandora's vast wilds, your cruelty once a shield now a hollow echo of your being.
Hours blurred into an endless trek, the jungle's symphony fading to a distant hum as exhaustion clawed at you. Your feet ached against the uneven terrain, the sway of your hips slowing with each mile. The sun climbed and dipped, painting the undergrowth in shifting patterns, until the rush of water drew you onward.
The river, the same crystalline vein where Neteyam had found you before, time and time again, his persistence a thorn in your side. It curved invitingly, fringed with glowing ferns but solace it offered right now was a lie.
You collapsed onto the mossy bank, knees buckling as the fight drained from you curling into yourself, silent tears carved warm paths down your cheeks. Sobs caught in your throat, muffled against your knees, the isolation crashing over you like the current's foam.
"This is what happens when you try to leave me."
The voice sliced through the quiet, low and resonant, startling you upright. Your head snapping up, braids whipping across your damp face, eyes wide with wary as you scanned the shadows.
There he was, Neteyam, stepping from the treeline in all his imposing glory, the sunlight gilding his azure form. But this was no vulnerable soft version, his face was etched with darkness, his golden eyes hooded and intense, the usual warmth replaced by a predatory gleam as his broad chest rose steadily. The faint scars on his arms standing out as he moved with purpose, his tail flicking like a whip.
"What are you doing here? How did youâ?" You stammered, scrambling back on your hands as your palms sinked into the cool mud.
He chuckled, a dark velvety sound that sent chills racing across your skin. He closed the distance with unhurried strides, his long legs eating the ground. Crouching beside you, he invaded your space effortlessly, his heat radiating like a forge. One knee pressing into the earth, forearm resting on his thigh as he leaned in, the sharp cut of his jaw tilting toward you.
"I followed you." He said simply, amusement curling his lips fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to touch you, eyes tracing the tear-streaked glow of your cheeks. "I wasn't asleep when you slipped away."
Confusion swirled with the resolve in your chest. You straightened, forcing firmness into your voice as your chin lifted defiantly, the subtle curve of your neck exposed as you met his gaze, refusing to cower. "Leave me be, Neteyam. This isn't your concern."
He tilted his head, a knowing grin spreading across his features though the shadows in his expression deepened the hollows of his cheeks. "You're mine. Why would I leave you alone? We've danced this evasion too long, it's time you accept it."
A snarl tore from your throat, raw and unrestrained. The culmination of betrayal, exile, and this relentless pursuit bubbling over. Your fangs bared, the muscles of your shoulders coiling as you lunged forward slightly, claws extending in warning. You didn't care anymore about Neytiri's pleas to play along, to shield him from stress or negativity. Your world had shattered and his delusions were the final straw.
"I'm not yours! We aren't mated, none of it was real. You're supposed to be with that woman, Alayni. You hit your head in that fall. It's selective amnesia twisting your memories, making you think we're bonded when we're enemies. Demon blood runs in you and you're tainting everything, leave me alone!"
The words spilled out in a torrent, your chest heaving with the force of them as your breath comes in sharp bursts, the soft peaks of your breasts straining against the fabric as fury flushed your skin a deeper hue.
You expected shock, denial, perhaps anger but he remained calm, face blank as a still pond, absorbing every accusation without a flicker. His arms folding loosely across his torso, the defined ridges of his abdomen shifting subtly with each even inhale.
"Are you done, baby?" He asked softly, the endearment laced with dark affection, voice dipping low, one corner of his mouth quirking as he watched you unravel.
Confusion made your lashes fluttered along with disbelief as you looked at him. "Did you not hear what I said? It's all a lie, your mind's broken!"
"I heard you loud and clear." He replied evenly, unfolding to rise slightly, towering over you even in his crouch as his shadow fall across your form. "You think I'm stupid? That I don't know the truth of it all? I know everything, baby."
Your mind reeled, questions piling like storm clouds as your pulse thundered in your ears, fingers digging into the earth for stability as you searched his face for deceit.
What game was this?
He leaned closer, grin widening with a flash of something primal in his eyes. It was dark and unyielding possession, his pupils dilating as the golden hue sharpened like a predator's stare.
"I do not have selective amnesia." He tapped the side of his head, the words dropping like stones into deep water.
"What?" The syllable escaped as a whisper, shock rooting you in place as your body goes still, the taper of your waist tensing as realization dawned.
"Do you not get it, baby?" His grin softened into something almost tender, hand reaching out to caress your face lovingly. His palm cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the high plane of your cheekbone with feather-light pressure, calluses rough against your silken skin. "It was all a ploy, (Y/N). The confusion, the clinging, the fabricated memories. I orchestrated it to keep you close without resistance from my family, the clan, or even you. I needed you unbound, willing in my arms, away from the barriers who wants to keep us apart."
Shock rippled through you, the extreme lengths he had gone to. For you. This enemy, this forbidden flame, leaving you breathless. Your eyes widening, the vibrant irises reflecting his intensity as your lips parted in stunned silence.
Insanity woven from obsession stared back at you in his gaze.
"You're insane." You breathed, shaking your head in denial trying to twist away, the sleek strands of your braids swaying as your shoulders rolled back, seeking distance from him.
He chuckled again, the sound rich and unrepentant, pulling you flush against him with effortless strength. His arms encircling your waist, his chest a solid wall of warmth pressing into your softer frame, tsking softly as you resisted. "You made me this way."
You pushed against his chest, not with full force but enough to test the boundary, your palms flattening against the firm planes of muscle there, feeling the steady thrum beneath azure skin marked by faint healing scars.
"You're still gonna be mated to Alayni." You insisted, voice edged with defiance lips pressing into a thin line, the subtle quiver of your chin betraying the storm within. "We are not truly mated. She's what your parents want, what the clan demands. This changes nothing."
Neteyam tilted his head, golden eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that bordered on reverence, but his gaze drifted inexorably downward, fixating on the full curve of your lips. His pupils darkening as he leaned fractionally closer, the sharp line of his nose nearly brushing yours, ignoring your protest like a whisper lost in the wind. He didn't flinch, didn't argue, instead a soft hum escaped him as if your words were mere ripples on the surface of his resolve.
"She won't be." He murmured finally, voice low and threaded with certainty as one of his hand sliding up your back, fingers tracing the delicate ridge of your spine through the thin weave of your top. "Once my parents and the clan know what she did, Alayni will be cast out like the poison she is."
Shock rippled through you anew, widening your eyes as you searched his face for any sign of bluff breath catching, the slope of your shoulders tensing beneath his touch.
"What do you mean?" The question tumbled out, laced with suspicion.
Did he know? Had the threads of deception of that bitch unraveled further than I realized?
A grin split his features, slow and predatory, revealing the gleam of his fangs as amusement danced in his irises, tail curling possessively around your calf.
"I heard every word from your conversation with her earlier." He confessed, the admission rolling off his tongue like a secret long savored. "How she betrayed our clan, orchestrated the attack that brought death and ruin to so many. She sold us out for her own ambitions, your escape included."
The pieces clicked into place, stealing your breath.
When you'd risen that morning, believing him lost to sleep in the cot, he hadn't been. He'd lain still, eyes cracked just enough to watch you slip away, granting you a mere twenty seconds' head start before rising silently. His instincts had guided him through the underbrush, shadows cloaking his pursuit until he caught the murmur of voices.
Yours and Alayni's, sharp with accusation.
He'd lingered at the edge, ears attuned to every damning syllable. Alayni's confession, her gloating over the attack she'd ignited, the way she'd twisted your departure not as rejection of him, but as her calculated strike to claim what she coveted. Rage had simmered in him then but so had resolve, fueling his steps as he trailed you deeper into the wilds.
From there, he'd shadowed you to the Mangkwan borders, concealed among the vines as you faced Varang's cold judgment. Witnessing your banishment, exiled for the mercy you'd shown him had ignited something primal in his chest. His heart had burst with a twisted joy, not from your suffering, but from the irrefutable proof of your bond.
You'd chosen him over blood, over everything. No longer could you deny the pull between you.
He wanted to laugh at how successful his plan had worked.
It all stemmed from that fateful night, long before the ploy took shape. He'd woken in the dim glow of the marui, the haze of injury lifting just enough to catch his parents' hushed voices. Jake's gruff concern, Neytiri's soft recounting of your heroism.
You, the Mangkwan Tsakarem, his enemy, had saved him.
For weeks, his world had been a void, convinced you'd fled because you couldn't bear his touch, his clan's shadow tainting any future with you. But hearing of your sacrifice breathed life back into him, a spark that demanded action.
Right then, amid the quiet vigil of his family, he'd devised the selective amnesia. A performance to bind you to his side without the chains of duty or suspicion snapping shut. When morning came, he'd stirred with feigned confusion, clinging to you as his âmate,â weaving tales of a bond forged in secret. His grin had widened inwardly as belief took root. Lo'ak's wary glances, Jake's reluctant nods, even Alayni's frantic interjections when she knew, it all swallowed the lie whole.
His grandmotherâs counsel had sealed it, her wise eyes warning against stress that might fracture his fragile recovery. He knew his parents would honor that, allowing you unrestricted access under the guise of healing him. No forced mating with Alayni, not while he played the vulnerable son. And his mother... she'd softened, her fierce maternal love yielding to the sight of him animated again, how she saw the hollow shell of who he was weeks past was banished by just your presence.
She wanted her son whole and you'd become the key to that illusion.
He intended to exploit every fracture, every concession. You were his obsession, the fire that consumed his thoughts, and he would claim you fully. No matter the cost, the lies, or the darkness it demanded from him.
You breathed out shakily, the weight of his machinations settling over you like a shroud, chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm, the soft swell of your form molding against his as resignation flickered in your gaze.
"So you know." You whispered, not a question but an acknowledgment, the fight ebbing from your limbs.
He nuzzled your nose then, an affectionate gesture laced with possession as his breath fanned warm across your skin, the bridge of his nose gliding gently against yours in a promise of intimacy.
"She will pay for taking you from me." He vowed, voice husky with a blend of love and unbridled obsession, eyes half-lidded, the raw edge of his tone vibrating through you.
You heard it all in his voice, the devotion twisted into something fierce and unrelenting, the madness born of longing.
He was the architect of your chaos. The raid's echoes, Alayni's schemes, Varang's blade at your kuru, all traces led back to this pull between you. Yet, against the ache of loss, attraction bloomed unbidden within, a heat coiling low in your belly. Now knowing the depths he'd plumbed, the deceptions, and the risks just to ensnare you... it stirred something reciprocal. His love was a storm, dark and consuming, but genuine in its fervor.
Darkness wasn't alien to you. As Varang's shadow, you'd wielded cruelty like a blade, reveling in its sharp clarity. Your clan, your sister, they were ghosts now, severed by your choices. What remained? Emptiness or the shelter of his embrace? He'd toppled empires of tradition for you and in his arms, you could rebuild from the ruins.
Your gaze lifted, locking onto his with a newfound resolve, lashes fluttering once as you held his stare. Slowly and deliberately, you drew him down as your lips parted to capture his in a kiss. Hesitant at first then deepening with the surrender you'd long resisted.
Surprise flashed in his eyes, a brief widening before satisfaction curved his mouth against yours. Hands tightening on your hips, pulling you flush as he responded with fervor, tongue teasing the seam of your lips in hungry invitation. He kissed you back like a man starved, pouring weeks of pent-up yearning into the press of mouths and the tangle of breaths.
His body ignited, mind flooding with visions of you.
The plush give of your breasts against his chest, the rounded allure of your hips begging for his grasp. He craved to peel away the barriers, to uncover the dusky peaks of your nipples for it to harden under his gaze, to part your thighs and breathe in the musky essence of your arousal, to lap at the slick heat until you shattered in his mouth.
The kiss ignited like dry tinder under a spark, Neteyam's mouth claiming yours with a ferocity that left no room for retreat. His tongue swept in, bold and demanding, curling around yours in a slick dance. You gasped into him, a sound he swallowed by the deepening press of his mouth. Your hands fisting the straps of his woven belt as denial flickered one last time in your chest. But his grip on your waist tightened, thumbs digging into the soft flesh above your hips, pulling you impossibly closer until your curves molded to his unyielding frame.
"Mine." He growled against your lips, voice roughened by weeks of suppressed hunger.
He sucked on your tongue then, drawing it into his mouth with a wet obscene pull. His teeth grazing the sensitive underside, his low moan vibrating through you as saliva pooled and trickled at the corners. It was filthy and possessive, his obsession laid bare in the way he devoured you as if your very essence was the antidote to his torment.
You pulled back fractionally, breath ragged, the arch of your neck exposed as you tilted your head. Strands of dark hair cascading over one shoulder, catching the river's glow in silken waves.
"Neteyam... this is madness." You whispered, voice laced with lingering resistance, lips swollen and glistening from the onslaught of his hungry mouth. "We can'tâAlayni, your clanâthey'll never acceptâ"
His laugh was low and predatory, rumbling from deep in his chest as he nuzzled the curve of your jaw. Hot breath fanning your pulse point, fangs scraping lightly in a tease of possession.
"Fuck Alayni. Fuck the clan. You're the only one I see, the only one I crave." He captured your mouth again but this time his hand roamed lower, cupping the rounded swell of your ass through the thin fabric of your loincloth, kneading the flesh firmly eliciting an involuntary arch of your back. "Look at you. Soft, perfect, made for me. I've dreamed of this body every night, wanted to touch myself to the thought of burying myself inside you. Give in to me, baby. Surrender to what we both want."
His words coiled around you like vines, a manipulative silk weaving through your doubts. You were no innocent. Cruelty had been your armor but here, stripped by his gaze, vulnerability cracked through. And the heat building between your thighs betrayed you, a slick ache that made your denial ring hollow.
"I... I shouldn't." You murmured, even as your fingers traced the ridges of his abdomen, your nails dragging lightly, feeling the taut flex of muscle.
"But you will." He coaxed, voice dropping to a husky whisper as lips brushed your ear, sending shivers racing down your spine. "Because you feel it too, this pull, this need. Let me show you how good it can be. Just say yes and I'll make you forget everything else."
His free hand slipped under your top, callused palm gliding up your ribcage to cup one breast, his thumb circling the peak through the fabric drawing a sharp inhale from you as it pebbled under his touch.
Your resistance crumbled under the weight of his desire. You nodded, a small surrender, and he wasted no time. With deft fingers, he untied your top, letting it fall away to reveal the soft perky mounds of your breasts, nipples dusky and erect in the cool air.
Neteyam's breath hitched, eyes widening with reverent hunger as he stared with pupils dilating, a low groan escaping as he traced the curve with his gaze, committing every detail to memory.
"Eywa... so beautiful." He breathed, voice thick with awe leaning down to capture one peak in his mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud while his hand kneaded the other.
Pleasure shot through you like lightning, your head falling back and throat bared, a soft whimper slipping free as your fingers threaded into his braids. He lavished attention on your chest, alternating between sucks and gentle bites leaving faint red marks that bloomed like petals on your azure skin, his obsession evident in the way he murmured praises against your flesh.
"These tits... fuck, I've wanted to taste them since the first time I saw you. So full, so responsive. Want to watch how they bounce for me."
Your body responded traitorously, hips grinding against his thigh as arousal soaked through your coverings. He sensed it, a wicked grin curving his lips as he pulled back eyes dark with intent, trailing kisses down your sternum.
"Eager already? Let me see all of you." His hands worked at your loincloth, peeling it away to expose your core as your thighs parted instinctively, the cool air kissing your heated folds.
For the first time, he beheld your pussy. It was swollen, glistening with need, the musky scent rising like an intoxicating fog.
Neteyam inhaled deeply, nose brushing the softness of your inner thigh, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss, a shudder rippling through his broad shoulders. "Oh fuck, your scent."
He buried his face closer, tongue darting out to lap at the juices trailing down your thighs, savoring the tangy essence with a filthy groan.
You cried out, legs trembling as he licked a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, the flat of his tongue pressing firm, coaxing more of your arousal to drip in his awaiting mouth. "Neteyamâah!"
The sensation was overwhelming, his mouth relentless in sucking your folds, circling the bundle of nerves with expert flicks. His fingers parting you wider, exposing every inch to his voracious hunger. Your juices leaked freely now, coating his chin as he feasted, the lewd sounds of his slurps and your moans filling the air.
"Taste so fucking good." He rasped between laps, voice muffled against your heat, one hand pinning your hip while the other teased your entrance. "Dripping for me, aren't you? This pretty little cunt leaking like it knows it's about to be claimed."
He spat then, a deliberate dollop of saliva landing on your frothing core as he watched it mix with your slick before diving back in, tongue plunging deep to gather every drop.
Ecstasy built swiftly, your walls clenching around nothing, but he pulled away just as you teetered on the edge lips shiny, eyes gleaming with dark promise. "Not yet. I want to feel you come around my cock first."
Rising to his knees, he shed his own coverings, revealing his massive length. The flared head already beading with precum standing proud against his abdomen, the sheer size making your eyes widen in a mix of awe and apprehension.
You reached out tentatively, fingers wrapping around the girth barely encircling it, feeling the velvet heat pulse under your touch.
"It's... huge." You breathed stroking experimentally, thumb swiping over the tip drawing a hiss from him.
"All for you." He panted guiding your hand, hips bucking into your fist as he watched your face. "Gonna stretch you so good, fill you up until you're ruined for anyone else."
He positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the head along your slit, coating himself in your combined wetness, teasing your swollen clit with each pass.
"WaitâNeteyam, we can't... not fully." You protested weakly, even as your body arched toward him in anticipation.
"We can and we will." He murmured manipulatively, nipping your lower lip as his eyes locked on yours with hypnotic intensity. "Just the tip first then the rest of my cock, baby. Let me in, surrender this much and I'll make it worth it."
He pressed forward slowly, the broad head breaching you and stretching your walls with a burn that bordered on pain before morphing into exquisite fullness. You moaned, nails raking down his back leaving red trails that made him growl in approval.
"Too much... oh." You gasped but your legs wrapped around his waist urging him deeper.
"That's it baby, take me." He cooed inching further, watching your face contort in pleasure, his own features twisting with restraint. Once fully sheathed, he paused letting you adjust to the bulge forming low in your belly, his hand pressing against it feeling himself inside you. "Look at that, my cock making a home in your tummy. You're made for breeding, aren't you?"
You mewled at his words and he began to move then, slow thrusts that built to a punishing rhythm with his hips snapping in lewd slaps, the riverbank echoing the sound. Love bites peppered your neck and shoulders, his teeth sinking in just enough to mark, scratches from your nails mirroring on his skin, a canvas of mutual claim.
"Fuck, you feel so good. Gripping me like you never want to let go." His words were shameless as raw sweat beading on his temple.
Pleasure mounted coiling tight until you shattered as your walls convulsed around him, a cry tearing from your throat and body arching off the ground, stars bursting behind your eyelids.
He didn't stop, chasing his own release with frantic drives. "Coming inside you. Gonna flood this pussy, make it mine."
He spilled, hot ropes of cum painting your depths, sloshing audibly with his final thrusts, the excess leaking out around his base obscenely.
But one round wasn't enough.
He flipped you onto your hands and knees, re-entering with a single brutal stroke, hand fisting your hair gently, arching your back as he pounded deeper.
"Again. Need to feel you milk me dry." He demanded, spitting into your open mouth this time, watching you swallow with a filthy grin.
The second climax hit you harder, mind fogging as he filled you anew, your tummy bulging visibly now, a lewd testament to his claim. By the third round, you were fucked dumb. Limbs heavy, moans incoherent with eyes glazed, body limp as he rutted into you from behind, one hand rubbing delicious circles on your clit.
"So good for me. Dumb on my cock, just how I like you." He praised, nipping your ear, his free hand roaming to squeeze your breast and pinched your nipple.
In your haze, he moved with purpose. Gathering your kuru, he connected it swiftly with his own. Tsaheylu forming in a surge of connection that bound your souls, the bond electric, amplifying every sensation as he thrust through your overstimulation. You felt the gravity of his love and obsession with you. How he wanted to etch himself into your being until heâs all youâll ever know. How he was ready to defy everyone and leave his clan just to be with you. How he wanted to fill your pussy over and over again until you give him a big family. He burns for you and he will burn for you if he must.
You whimpered realizing too late but the pleasure drowned the protests bubbling up in you.
"Now it's real." He whispered triumphantly, voice laced with obsession and his eyes wild as the bond deepened. "Mated for life, no escaping me anymore. I'll take you home and no one can touch what's mine."
"Neteyam, what have youâ" You slurred but he silenced you with a deep kiss, tongues tangling as he drove toward another peak.
"I'll make you a mama." He vowed between thrusts, manipulative edge sharpening his tone as his hand splayed over your lower belly pressing the bulge. "Keep getting you pregnant every damn time. Swelling with my seed so everyone knows who you belong to. Your sister, Alayni, the whole damn clan, they'll see you're mine forever. You just have to give in fully baby, surrender yourself to me."
The words, the bond, the relentless pleasure, it broke you.
Or perhaps remade you.
As he came again, cum sloshing deep and overflowing in thick rivulets down your thighs, you clung to him, your denial shattered. You were mated truly now and escape was a faded dream. In his arms, you found a twisted peace. His darkness mirroring your own, binding you to him.
Your body trembled in the aftermath, every nerve alight with the echoes of ecstasy and the profound weight of the bond now thrumming between you. Neteyam's cock remained buried deep in your walls, a deliberate barrier sealing his cum within your tender overworked folds. The raw heat of your core clenching sporadically around him, holding back the warm flood that threatened to spill. A soft whimper escaped your lips as overstimulation lingered like a sweet ache.
"Shh, baby." He murmured soothingly, his voice a low rumble against your ear as one large hand stroking the sweat-damp curve of your spine. "You did so good. So perfect for me."
His tone wrapped around you like a cocoon, possessive yet tender, the darkness in his eyes softened by satiated affection for you.
Your vision swam in a haze of bliss, eyelids heavy as you gazed up at him with your lashes fluttering, the lines of your face flushed with exertion, a faint sheen of perspiration highlighting the subtle glow of your skin.
"Neteyamâ" You breathed, the word half-protest, half-plea, your voice husky from cries long silenced by his kisses.
He grinned then, a slow, predatory curve of his lips as he drank in the sight of you.
Naked and utterly claimed, scattered love bites blooming like violet bruises along your collarbone and the swell of your breasts, faint red welts from his nails marking your hips where he'd gripped too fiercely in the throes. Your beauty struck him anew, wild and unmarred by the world's judgments, every curve and stripes a testament to the obsession that had driven him to this.
Leaning down, he captured one dusky nipple between his lips again, suckling with gentle insistence as his tongue flicked the sensitive tip drawing a fresh gasp from you as sparks reignited low in your belly. He released it with a soft pop, only to claim your mouth in a lingering kiss. Lips molding to yours, the taste of shared passion still lingering on his tongue, his breath warm and ragged against your skin.
Without withdrawing, he shifted, strong arms banding around your waist to pull you upright with him. His cock still lodged deliciously inside, shifted angles that sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through you, your walls fluttering in response. You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into the firm muscle there, the stripes on his arms pulsing faintly in the dim light, a mirror to the bond's electric hum.
He stepped into the shallow river, the cool water lapping at your joined forms as he waded deeper. Cradling you against his chest, the current swirling around your thighs and teasing the sensitive juncture where you remained connected. Droplets clung to his broad shoulders, tracing rivulets down the defined planes of his torso as he began to wash you both. His free hand dipping into the stream to cup water over your marked skin, gentle swipes cleansing the evidence of your frenzy, though his eyes never left yours, still dark with lingering hunger.
All the while, he stole nasty smooches from your lips. Quick heated presses that deepened into tongue-tangling explorations as his fangs grazed your lower lip, a low hum of approval vibrating from his throat each time you yielded to his advances.
"My mate is so fucking pretty." He growled between kisses, voice thick with raw adoration as his gaze raked over you, from the tousled waves framing your face to the subtle sway of your hips in the water. "All full of my cum and marked. Look at you baby, mine in every way now."
You felt him stirring within you, thickening once more as arousal rebuilt. The lazy twitch of his hips pressing him deeper, sloshing the trapped seed inside you with obscene wet sounds that made your cheeks burn. A groan built in your throat, the sensation both soothing and igniting, your body betraying any semblance of fatigue.
"Do you not get tired?" You groaned, the words tumbling out as he mouthed at your nipple again, his teeth nipping the pebbled flesh, his hot breath fanning across your chest while the water buoyed your weight.
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending vibrations straight to your core as he lifted his head to meet your eyes, his own gleaming with unquenchable fire. "I'd fuck your pussy every day and still complain it's not enough."
The shameless declaration hung in the air, filthy and fervent, his hand sliding down to cup your ass, urging a subtle grind.
Your cunt pulsed at his words, a fresh wave of slick easing the way as desire coiled anew. Your inner muscles squeezing his cock involuntarily drawing a hiss from his parted lips. He responded in kind, fucking up into you with languid thrusts. Each roll of his hips deliberate, the friction building as your clit ground against the coarse texture at his pelvis, sparks blooming in your pussy with every press.
"You're so beautiful, baby." He whispered reverently, voice laced with awe, his free hand cradling the nape of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw as he held your gaze.
The water splashed softly around you, a rhythmic counterpoint to the deepening cadence of his movements.
Capturing your mouth once more, he parted your lips with his tongue, only to pull back slightly. Spitting a deliberate saliva into your open mouth, watching with hooded eyes as you swallowed, the act intimate and depraved. Then he dove in, sucking on your tongue with voracious pulls. Teeth grazing, saliva mingling in a messy heated exchange that left you breathless.
The pace quickened, his thrusts growing firmer despite the lazy intent. Your bodies rocking in the current, the bond amplifying every sensation until pleasure crested like a wave. You came first, a muffled cry against his lips as your walls clamped down. Stars fracturing your vision, limbs tightening around him in shuddering release. He followed moments later, spilling anew with a guttural moan. Hot pulses joining the existing warmth, the fullness overwhelming as it sloshed within you.
This time, he withdrew gently, the sudden emptiness making you whine softly. A trickle of his cum escaping to mingle with the river's flow. He cleaned you up for real then, thorough and attentive, rinsing away the remnants with cupped handfuls of water. Fingers careful over your sensitive skin, tracing the insides of your thighs before helping you into fresh coverings from his nearby pouch. He dressed himself swiftly, the woven fabric hugging his powerful frame, his kuru draped over one shoulder still tingling from the bond with you.
Scooping you into his arms, he cradled you bridal-style against his chest. Your head nestling into the crook of his neck, the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulling you. You snuggled closer instinctively, limbs heavy with exhaustion, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours like a balm.
He grinned down at you, that obsessive light in his eyes undimmed as his fangs peeked through before he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"Go to sleep, baby." He coaxed softly, voice a gentle command as one hand rubbed soothing circles on your back while he began the trek back towards his clan. "When you wake up, we'll be back in our marui as mates. Nobody can set us apart now."
Your eyes fluttered closed, the fight drained from you entirely. A quiet warmth blooming in your chest at the depth of his love, twisted as it was, mirroring the shadows in your own heart.
"You're still a disgusting demon to me." You mumbled, the words laced with weary affection rather than true venom you used to hurl at him.
He chuckled, the sound rich and fond echoing softly in the night, adjusting his hold to keep you secure as your breathing evened out. "And you're still beautiful to me."
As sleep claimed you fully, the world faded to the rhythm of his steps, the bond a unbreakable tether pulling you into his darkness.
His smile turned into a dark smirk as he continued to walk with you in his arms. He wasn't done yet. His plan still yet to unfold. He wasn't gonna rest until he's sure nobody will be an obstacle and he sure knows who to start with first.
Alayni will be an example of how far I'm willing to go for you, baby.
He laughed to himself as he realized, he really was obsessed with you.
