avatar reblogs

[oneheda]

ECLIPSES. | ➶ neteyam sully

── .✦ part 3 of: DECLASSIFIED.

DECLASSIFIED (SERIES): READ ON AO3

READ PT. 1: BRUISES | 2: ECHOES | 3: ECLIPSES

wc: 7.7k

pairing: neteyam x fem!warrior!na’vi

story description: somewhere between childhood and now, the past began pressing closer, leaving marks that did not belong to you and neteyam’s shared training.

warnings: ANGST x99999999, major character visceral injuries (so much worse TW), fighting, nete & y/n are SO avoidant GBYE, CHOKING, blood like so much more, HUGE impact of grief, secrets, miscommunication, mentioned character death, childhood friends to ENEMIES (strong in this chapter) !!! to lovers, hurt/NO comfort. LIKE. mutual pining, both think it’s unreciprocated. we are just screwed in this chapter because… why don’t you find out?

a/n: holy crap guys, did not expect this chapter to turn out the way it did even if i planned its ending. this, irrecoverably… um… lowkey took a mental toll from how much ANGST i was imagining and coming up with but it was so so worth it. might take a break after this part, but it’s certainly not the last part!!not perfectly proof read because im tired of perfectionism getting to me… so here it is. i had to rummage through my mind to emotionally connect with it to write it in the most gut wrenching possible way that didn’t feel so melodramatic but matched the psychological realism… yeah this whole chapter is just psychological realism and i have no clue how it ended up the way it did. it gets kinda crazy. but anyways, i need to start reading again because i feel like im running out of words despite still having a whole plot ahead of us! ain’t that great!

if y’all felt last chapter was angsty………. OOPS. wait till you read this one. good luck everyone to reading this chapter and feel free to ask for tags once again. hope y’all’s enjoyyy!! :)

CHAPTER SUMMARY:

The war takes more than bodies. It takes the edges of who you are, the moments you cannot reclaim, and the people you love, leaving only the version of yourself you’ll sacrifice in choked silence.

Drifting in the soft golden glow of your kelku (home), the familiar folds of the marui cradled you like a newborn, the fabric warm against your skin and the scent of resin and smoke wrapping around you like a memory. Your father knelt nearby, the sunlight catching the edges of his hair, his smile steady and calm. “You’ll make sure your sa’nok (mother) doesn’t do anything naughty while I’m gone, right?”

At the far corner, your mother crouched with a radio in her hands. Her fingers brushed the dials with delicate care, like threads of sunlight slipping through the canopy, humming a tune that carried a weight you couldn’t name.

Grinning, heart light, you replied, “I’ll call out to you if she tries.”

A gentle kiss pressed to his cheek, the warmth of it lingering in the space between you, shimmering in the air like golden dust.

Then the walls rippled, folding and stretching as if the world itself had melted. The sunlight dimmed and warmth drained from your skin, leaving the air thin and trembling. Your mother appeared again, trembling, her face half-shadowed, tears catching the light and glowing faintly, whispering the same words over and over.

“Your father… your father…”

Hands reached out, first to her, then to the radio, but met nothing. The air held your wrists, suspended as if invisible threads of wind and light were holding them back. Pressure bloomed in your throat as the air thickened, twisting words into silence while the edges of your vision darkened.

The echo of your father’s smile, your mother’s whisper, floated around like they were about to drift away.

Forever.

Then, with a sudden jolt, you awoke, sweat soaking your skin, the memory of warmth and sorrow lingering as if the past had never fully left.

One year later…

The operations table glowed beneath the low ceiling of a trailer in High Camp, its light casting long shadows across the stone walls. The projections shimmered over the table’s surface, rivers and ridges traced in red, marking paths that stretched from the eastern frontier toward the western valleys.

Jake stood at the center, hands braced against the edge of the table, shoulders squared, jaw set. His eyes didn’t leave the creeping red lines that pushed slowly west, as if testing the strength of the defenses in its path. Around him, captains and vice-captains murmured, shifting in their seats, the subtle hum of tension threading through the room.

Neteyam’s hand hovered over the projection, tracing a thin line eastward before he lifted his fingers and let them hover just above the glowing terrain. His eyes didn’t leave the map.

“They crossed the eastern boundary at first light,” he said, voice careful, measured. “Small units. Engineering crews.”

Jake didn’t lift his gaze. He tapped twice on the table’s surface, a faint rhythm that punctuated the warning, as if each tap counted the moments the enemy had gained.

“Say it straight,” he said. “Are they settling or passing through?”

“Settling,” a strategist answered. “Slow enough to build. Fast enough to matter.”

A murmur ran through the table. Not disagreement. Calculated concern.

“If they establish themselves there,” another voice said, leaning closer, “they split our movement corridors. Air coverage follows. We lose the canopy passes.”

Jake dragged a finger across the projection, stopping the red line short of the river. “They don’t get this far.”

“But if they push anyway?” Keyra asked, tone sharp.

“They won’t.” Lo’ak said quietly from Jake’s right.

Jake’s gaze flicked to Lo’ak, catching him leaning over the projection with a casual tilt, fingers skimming the glowing terrain as if it were a game board rather than the frontier itself. There was a spark in his eyes, sharp and unrestrained, a restless energy Jake had seen since Lo’ak’s first flights.

He looked confident, too confident perhaps, moving like he owned the space. Even here, where stakes were measured in lives, not bravado. And Jake had no doubt he could pull it off. But instincts whispered caution; Lo’ak had a habit of pushing limits, of trusting the roll of his own wings more than the plans of anyone else.

Jake let his eyes linger for a beat, a silent check, measuring impulse against experience.

Lo’ak met it, steady. “Not if we slow them before they realize what they’re doing.”

Jake’s jaw tightened slightly as he crossed his arms to face his son. “How?”

Lo’ak didn’t pause, tracing a narrow stretch of projected terrain with a finger. “Cut their supply. Force a turn back east. Make them think twice before moving further. Quick and messy if we have to. I’ll cover the pullout. It’s Support’s job, anyway. My job.”

Neteyam’s eyes followed the line of Lo’ak’s finger, flicking up briefly to the boy’s face. His lips twitched just enough to form a silent curve, the barest movement that said it all.

“Okay… Good, that’s— that’s quite smart actually.” Jake cleared his throat, subtly surprised. Meanwhile, Lo’ak smiled to himself softly, like he’d earned a nod he’d been chasing for this moment his whole life.

Yet, among the crowd, a few faces were missing. It caught the eye, not because they were oversighted but because some of the most important eyes and ears from Intelligence were elsewhere, moving unseen through the eastern frontier.

“They’re still in the field,” Strategy’s captain spoke. “Undercover. Getting eyes on the expedition before it solidifies. That’s why they’re not here.”

A vice-captain leaned forward. “So whatever intel comes back, we don’t have it yet.”

“No,” Jake said, his eyes scanning the table. “And that’s why every decision we make now has to account for the unknown. They’re the only ones close enough to confirm movement or intent inside the corridor. No one else is seeing what they see, no one else knows what they know unless Comms comes through.”

The other captains and vice-captains shifted, exchanging subtle glances, their expressions a mixture of unease and calculation, the weight of unseen eyes pressing on them from where their absent teammates should have been. Jake’s eyes flicked toward the empty spaces at the table, ghostly gaps that made the room feel hollow, then returned to the map, his jaw tightening as he traced the thin red lines creeping across the terrain.

“We move without them. For now, I don’t want anybody near Bridgehead, except One. They’ll slow down the operations at the frontier remotely from the inside. Do we copy?”

The room absorbed the command as one, tension taut in the air as if even the smallest hesitation could cost lives.

“Yes, sir!”

The forest thinned, then dropped, as if something enormous had pressed its fist into Pandora and never let go. What stretched ahead of you was not just cleared ground but a vast depression carved into the earth, a basin of dead space so wide it felt unreal from the air. The sun sat at your ten o’clock, its dying light pouring straight into the basin, catching the glow and turning the clearing into a wide, smouldering canvas of rusted orange and dull gold.

Ahead of you, Bridgehead City rose.

The city’s stone walls cut through like a blunt answer to the barren land itself, vertical and absolute. The scale stole your sense of proportion; aircraft that should have looked imposing were reduced to moving flecks, and ground vehicles crawled like insects, too open to hide anything that still dared to move.

Every line of fire funnelled outward from those walls, every silent weapon already aligned.

This was the kill zone.

Three point two kilometres in diameter, in every direction, measured not just in distance but in vulnerability. No cover. No height advantage. No shadows that lasted longer than a breath.

Anything that entered this bowl was visible, trackable, and already accounted for.

Your hand closed around the RDA dog tag.

Recom units passed beneath you, tiny against the scale of the pit, their formations rigid and rehearsed. You slotted in above them, another sanctioned shape crossing an expanse designed to erase anything unsanctioned.

You were not remarkable.

You were just another dot moving across too much empty space to matter.

“[Y/N].”

Static crackled through your jaw, a thin vibration that crept up into your eardrums before resolving into a voice you had not expected to hear. Instinct snapped your hand to the throat mic, fingers pressing hard as if that might keep anyone on the other side from hearing the tremor in your voice.

“Mä’ko?”

“Make a one-eighty. Right. Now.” His tone cut in cleanly, sharp enough to override the crescendo hum of wind. “I am not asking.”

“How are you in range—?!” You whipped your head behind you to see beyond the thinning treeline, a familiar ikran breaking from the forest’s shadow. It glided out into the open air, wings catching light as it entered the basin.

Your eyes widened.

Shit.

“Mä’ko! You’re gonna die—!”

You were already bracing for it. For the flare of weapons. For the sudden violence of anti-air fire from the city lines, for the slightest misstep that would turn him into a falling shape against too much sky.

But, nothing happened.

No alarms. No targeting shifts. No break in formation.

He, too, flew the pattern.

He, too, wore an RDA dog tag.

“Remember. You die, I die.”

You turned forward and exhaled, unable to look at him any longer.

Damn.

“Capt-to-Vice,” you said, voice clipped, sarcastically professional. “That’s a negative. That won’t be happening today.”

With a subtle shift of weight, you peeled back from formation, drifting just enough to be absorbed into the stream of recon units veering away from the city, their silhouettes shrinking as they exited the basin.

Mä’ko appeared ahead, weaving smoothly through the thinning light, wings steady, his ikran moving as if the basin below did not exist. You closed the distance, muscles taut, every adjustment of your reins deliberate, keeping pace with him without drawing attention.

The basin below was now a shadowed scar on the land, the kill zone now silent, empty, but still echoing with the danger you’d skirted only minutes ago. The wind whipped against your face, carrying the tang of smoke and metal from Bridgehead, biting your lungs and rattling your fingers on the reins.

Once it was safe enough, the words tore out of you. “What the hell are you doing here!?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” Mä’ko glided just above the treeline, his ikran’s wings catching the last amber light as he turned his head back sharply.

“You weren’t cleared for that airspace!”

“And you weren’t ordered to be in it, either!” he shot back. No humour. No edge. Just flat, controlled anger. “You broke command. Why?”

“I had to adjust,” you said, immediately.

Too immediately.

“No!” he said. “You went dark. You altered the trajectory. You crossed into a kill zone without clearance and without backup. You could have died!”

You stared forward, fingers tight around the reins. “Trust me, I had it handled.”

“That’s not the point!” he snapped. “You don’t get to decide that alone.”

You flew faster to reach beside him, eyes sharp. “I’m your captain.”

“And I’m your vice,” he said. “Which means when you disappear into RDA airspace, I don’t sit and hope you come back in one piece.”

You swallowed, forcing your voice steady. The wind rushed past, harsh against your face as Mä’ko stayed beside you, precise and controlled — his ikran wings cutting through the air with perfect rhythm. The forested ridges of kelku grew closer, shadows stretching long and dark beneath your ikran as you passed through the Hallelujah Mountains.

Ahead, a jagged rock broke the skyline, dusted with moss and catching the dying light like a beacon. Mä’ko’s gaze lingered for a heartbeat, then he banked sharply, spiralling down with a controlled dive before rising again. You registered it instantly, the angle, the size of the ledge, the way the wind would curl around it.

Without hesitation, you guided your ikran to follow, riding the turbulent currents with measured care before the two of you eased your ikrans onto the same rock. Claws scraped the stone with soft, grounding thuds, and the floating mountain, small yet stable, welcomed you both.

Mä’ko tugged the comm frustratedly from around his neck, the metal cool against his fingers, and took it off. The static hissed to life for a moment before he shut it off again, clipping it to his belt and letting it hang loosely. The sun ahead of you had dipped lower, the last amber streaks bleeding into deep indigo, while the first pale stars began to prick through the darkening sky.

Mä’ko’s eyes flickered to you.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You avoided his gaze, the rock beneath you suddenly seeming interesting. Mä’ko shifted slightly, tail flicking once. He didn’t move closer, didn’t push, but the stare was enough.

He was waiting.

Expecting.

“You went in alone,” he said finally, voice low but tight with tension. “Why?”

Your fingers tightened, knuckles whitening. The question was simple, but loaded. Every instinct screamed at you to explain, to justify, to let him see reason. But at first, you stayed still, allowing the quiet stretch, letting the air between you carry the weight of the choice.

“I had to,” you said, voice tight, clipped.

“That’s not an answer,” he said, tone flat, almost eerily calm. He stepped closer, slow, deliberate, each movement calm but carrying weight. The wind tugged at his cloak, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes fixed on you, unblinking.

“I…” You started.

He tilted his head slightly, like he was waiting, patient, predatory. But then, he pursed his lips in a straight line at your silence, about to leave. “Okay, explain it to Jake, then.”

“Wait!” you blurted, breath catching. Mä’ko turned his head back slowly and slightly, hairless eyebrows raising in anticipation of your response.

With a certain kind of heedfulness, you reached into your side-pouch and pulled out your data pad before he could say anything. The glass screen lit beneath your thumb, smooth and cool, and with a practised motion you expanded a saved file. Light unfolded upward from the surface, a translucent projection hovering between you.

Mä’ko’s eyes dropped to it. He stayed where he was, studying the projection like it might shift if he blinked.

The first beeps came immediately. Short bursts. Long bursts. Precise. Methodical. Unmistakable.

Not interference. Not static.

A recording.

Morse code.

You held your breath, grabbing a small radio from your back pouch. The beeps repeated, steady and measured, looping back to the beginning. “This radio… it only has one transmitter for one frequency. Every time it nears Bridgehead, it picks this up.’

He then closed his eyes. “L…”

“O…” He traced the rhythm aloud, slowly, each letter forming.

He murmured. “R…”

The boy opened his eyes, stepping back slightly. “I don’t understand… Lor? What’s Lor— Whose— Whose frequency is this?”

You stared at him, the sound of the beeps still echoing in your chest, a rhythm that matched your own ragged pulse. Your hands hovered uselessly at your sides, fingers twitching, itching to do something. Anything. But nothing could bridge the distance between thought and action.

The words pressed against your tongue, demanding release as your throat went raw.

“Lor’itan is my father’s last name.”

- ➶ -

“Wait, Neteyam.”

A smaller Hallelujah mountain hovered just ahead of them, its underside veiled in trailing vines and mist. It was far enough from the others that the sounds of wings and voices faded into nothing. Just wind, stone, and the low hum of Pandoran air.

Keyra landed on its narrow ledge, roots curling along the rock like fingers holding the mountain in place. Her fingers fumbled at the wrap around her calf. The fabric had loosened, darkened where it pressed too close to skin that had not finished bleeding beneath it.

She swung down and Neteyam was already there, hands catching her waist, steadying her before her leg could give.

“Easy. Easy,” he said, hands catching her arms before she could steady herself. His grip was firm but careful, thumbs braced like he was afraid she might tip over if he let go. “You sure you’re okay to still fly?”

“Probably not,” she admitted. Then, quieter, “But I think I can handle it.”

He did not let go.

His grip stayed firm on her arms, thumbs pressing lightly as if he could feel the tremor running through her body before she admitted to it. His eyes dropped to her leg first, tracking the uneven way she was keeping her weight off it, the way her stance favoured one side without her meaning to. Then his gaze lifted back to her face, searching for the strain she was trying to smooth over.

“Which part hurts?” he asked.

Keyra inhaled, sharp and measured. For half a second, Neteyam thought she would brush him off, the way it had always gone before. A familiar instinct. A half-smile, a deflection, a careless joke meant to soften the truth. Pain turned into something manageable if it was never spoken aloud.

But instead, she reached down and tapped just below her knee, fingers lingering where the wrap was tightest. Plain and honest and tired, without dressing it up as something smaller than it was. Without pretending she could outrun it.

“Here,” she said. Her hand drifted higher, pressing briefly against her side, just under her ribs, where her breathing had been shallow since they landed. “And here.”

The difference landed quietly in his chest. Just the strange, aching sense of being opened up to. For once, someone had not turned away from his concern.

She dropped her arm with a small, tired huff of a laugh. “And kind of everything, if I’m honest.”

Neteyam let out a slow breath, not frustrated, just worried. “Come on,” he murmured. “Sit.” His hands stayed gentle as he guided her down onto the woven edge of the platform, leaving no room for protest.

She obeyed, leaning back on her hands while he knelt. He waited, watching her carefully, then paused.

“Can I?”

She nodded.

He loosened the wrap slowly, unbinding it layer by layer. The bruise underneath had spread wider than before, a deep blue blooming into green at the edges. His jaw tightened.

“That’s worse than earlier,” he said.

“It’s been a long day.”

He glanced up at her. “We can still turn back to High Camp, it’s not far back.”

She smiled faintly, tired. “It’s fine, Neteyam.”

He reached for the salve pouch at his hip anyway, pressing the paste into his fingers before applying it gently. When she flinched, his hand stilled.

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

“I will,” she said, and she meant it.

They stayed like that for a while. Neteyam working carefully, Keyra letting him. The air felt muted, like the world had pulled back to give them space.

“You don’t have to keep pushing through it,” he said quietly as he looked up at her. “You know that, right?”

She looked toward the darkening sky. “I know.”

He did not argue. He just nodded once, accepting it the way he always did, even when he hated it. When he finished, he rewrapped her leg tighter, more secure. His fingers lingered for a moment, then pulled away. Neteyam stood and offered her his arm without comment. She took it, leaning just slightly into him as they walked toward the ikran roosts.

Bridgehead lay far beyond, unseen but waiting.

As they mounted up, Neteyam glanced at her once more. “If it gets worse, you tell me.”

She met his eyes. “I promise.”

Their ikrans lifted into the air, the Hallelujah mountains falling away beneath them. The forest stretched endlessly below, shadows pooling between the trees.

They flew side by side, close enough that Neteyam could still see the tension in her posture, the way she held herself together through pain. He adjusted his pace to match hers without saying a word.

- ➶ -

“What?”

Shock crossed Mä’ko’s face so fast it was almost ugly. Disbelief twisted through him, raw and unfiltered, before he could rein it in.

“That’s impossible, Lor could mean anything,” he said, flat and certain, like stating a law of nature.

You shook your head. “A week ago,” you said, the words scraping painfully on the way out, “I found out, in the forest— I found out from Sky People that he was experimented on.”

“Experimented?!”

Your eyes never left his. “That’s what his status says. It’s what it’s always said.”

Mä’ko shot a sharp look, “So what, you’re saying he’s alive? [Y/N], you can’t risk knowing that. We have to find out with the others—”

“—No!” You stepped closer, almost reaching for him as he turned away, as though ready to leave. “We can’t involve more people! Our people are handling enough missions already!”

“It is our job! To tell!” He spun back, frustration flaring hot across his face. “We could save more people this way, including yourself. We plan it properly. We bring everyone in.”

You stopped.

Really stopped.

You let him turn to face you fully, shoulders tense, chest heaving slightly. You looked at him properly, the way one looks at someone who does not yet understand the weight of the ground they are standing on.

“What?” He blinked. Once. Just once.

A reflex. Confusion before fear.

“You… you need to be within Bridgehead walls to pick this up…” you said quietly, looking away as you took a breath that did not quite reach your lungs. The words were measured, almost careful, as though speaking too quickly might shatter what little control you still had. “Inside the perimeter. Past patrol lines.”

Mä’ko took a slow step back, as if the space between you might help him sort what was real.

“I broke command,” you went on, your voice lowering, flattening. “Over and over. For months. Just for this.”

His eyes widened, unfocused, caught somewhere between the meaning of your words and the person saying them. You could see it happening, the recalculation, the quiet what-ifs adding up in his head.

How did no one know?

How did you survive the Kill Zone alone?

“I was sixteen,” you continued, forcing the memory from the edges of your mind. “I— I…”

Sixteen?

“—[Y/N].” Mä’ko’s face fell as if he had seen a ghost. He suddenly gripped your shoulders, firm and grounding, before bending his knees slightly and lowering himself to be eye-level with you now. “Do you know what this means?”

You nodded, because you knew. You always knew this whole time.

Every rule you had bent came back to you in pieces.

Not as neat infractions or cleanly justified decisions, but as moments. Split seconds. Choices made in the dark, with no witnesses except your own heartbeat.

Every command you had ignored replayed itself in flashes. Turning your comms down. Altering routes after orders had already been given. Flying lower than sanctioned, closer than allowed, trusting instinct over protocol because instinct had kept you alive when protocol never would have.

Every risk you had carried alone cut sharper now, because you had carried them knowing exactly what they would cost if exposed.

It was not just punishment you feared.

Anyone finding out meant losing everything you had built, piece by careful piece.

Rank.

Faction.

Trust.

And beneath all of it sat the knowledge you never said aloud.

You had not broken the rules because you were reckless.

You had broken them because you were necessary.

And necessity was never a defense that survived daylight.

Mä’ko knew that.

“The beeping gets slower every time I go back. Like a countdown. I don’t think we have much time.” You pressed on before he could interrupt, breath hitching. “I was going to—”

“—If you’re going,” He caught your wrist before you could step back, firm and unyielding.

His eyes locked on yours, unflinching. “You’re not going in there alone.”

- ➶ -

Recom units weaved in and out of the city like careful shadows, while a few Mangkwan lumbered in the air across the open ground. Helicopters roared past in tight formations, their searchlights cutting sharp streaks through the deepening dusk. Darkness was pooling fast, swallowing details and edges

Keyra’s sharp voice broke through the tension, alerting headquarters. “We’ve entered enemy airspace.”

Neteyam’s chest tightened at the words, a cold knot settling low. He forced his breath even, counting it out, letting the hum of the city and the thrum of helicopters fill the silence.

For a moment, his mind lingered on the units of Two and he refused to name why. His hand shot up to his throat microphone, “Is all of Intelligence back yet?”

A crackle responded. “All of Two is back.”

Relief flickered in him for a heartbeat, shoulders easing, before the next words cut through the moment like ice.

“Except… Mä’ko and [Y/N].”

His stomach dropped.

Fuck.

“Where are they?” he asked, jaw tight as heart hammered against his ribs; each beat loud enough to echo in the spaces between the hum of helicopters and the distant clang of the city.

“Some of Two say they got held up somewhere. Some… don’t know,” came the reply.

Keyra’s eyes widened, shock mirrored in her sharp intake of breath.

Neteyam ran a hand over his face, teeth clenched. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Should we go looking for them?”

“Two will look for them,” the voice said firmly.

He exhaled sharply, eyes snapping shut for just a moment, as if the darkness behind his lids could block the chaos pressing in from all sides. Keyra glanced at him, unease flickering across her face, but he barely registered it. Every instinct screamed at him to abandon the mission, to tear through the streets and find them himself.

The warrior finally said at last, a final call before entering the city’s cold stone walls. “If they’re not back next signal…”

Neteyam guided his ikran in a sharp swoop, hand steady on its throat strap, soothing the beast as it folded its wings and touched down on the stone. With a controlled shift of weight, he swung a leg over, landing solidly on the wall, boots scraping the rough stone. He straightened, eyes sweeping the darkening city below, jaw set, every muscle coiled, ready to kill anything that was in his way.

“All orders would be on finding them.”

- ➶ -

The laboratory was quiet at this hour, its usual hum of activity reduced to the faint whirring of machinery and the occasional beep from one of the monitors. The space smelled faintly of antiseptic and earth, a strange blend of human sterility and the natural world outside its walls. Outside, the faint whispers of the forest echoed with an eerie sense of continuity, yet it was more alive than this metallic space could ever be.

In your hand was a keycard Mä’ko had swiped from one of the military during a raid earlier that day. Like the RDA dog tags you’d taken before, it granted the two of you instant authority. Everyone here assumed you belonged. Everyone assumed you were one of them. 

You two were wearing the full kit: reinforced bulletproof suits beneath crisp white lab coats, the heavy texture of Kevlar pressing against your chest and shoulders, the lab helmet tight against your jaw and temples, black tinted visor fogging slightly with each breath which made it hard for your faces to be seen. Underneath it all, you had a mask which recombinant Na’vi use to breathe in human air, otherwise known as oxygen.

Mä’ko crouched beside a terminal, fingertips brushing across the smooth glass of a data pad. Even through the helmet, the tension in his shoulders was visible. “You sure about this?”

From your past infiltrations, you felt sure of this.

Rows of glass terrariums cradled glowing fungi and spindly plants that pulsed faintly with light. Bioluminescent vines coiled around steel frames, leaves shimmering with unnatural iridescence, water dripping from delicate tendrils into shallow trays below. Some plants seemed engineered, hybridised with a careful hand; others twisted unnaturally, their tendrils curling in ways that no natural seed should have produced. You weren’t sure what they were looking for — whether Na’vi DNA had been introduced here, or if this was purely recombinant botany — but the smell of wet soil mixed with antiseptic and ozone was heavy, almost dizzying.

Your eyes traced the lab, noting how the terrariums were arranged like they were being watched, each plant labelled with a barcode and a handwritten notation in a neat, clinical hand. Outside the reinforced windows, a convoy moved along the road. Armoured skel units, APCs, and transport vehicles gliding in formation, some carrying crates of unknown materials, others personnel. The convoy made sense in context: if this lab was truly recombinant, these were the people and tools that kept it running.

“The signal was strongest here,” you murmured, pointing at your HUD, a faint spike pulsing steadily. “This is it. If there’s intel on my father… or on what they’ve done… It might be here.”

Mä’ko didn’t move immediately. He shifted his weight in the suit, plates clicking softly under the lab coat, fingertips grazing the edge of his helmet as though he could feel the room through it. “Okay. But once we’re in, stick to the shadows. Eyes on the convoy. Don’t do anything more reckless.”

You nodded, gripping the keycard tighter. Swallowing nervously, you stared at the bold red letters on the door: ‘AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.’ Your gloved fingers curled around the cold metal frame, pressing your ear against it for any hint of movement beyond. Silence answered, flat and unyielding, and a flicker of relief ran through you.

“Let’s move.”

With a quick tap of the keycard, a red laser flickered to life, scanning the card’s flat surface from top to bottom with meticulous precision. Almost immediately, the door let out a mechanical whir, panels sliding apart with a hiss that seemed louder than it should be in the thick silence of the lab. A faint cloud of smoke drifted from the hinges, curling upward in the dim light.

You and Mä’ko froze, eyes narrowing through the haze, squinting toward the shadows beyond the doorway. Every muscle tensed, every instinct screaming that something could be waiting on the other side.

Mä’ko sighed. “More doors.”

- ➶ -

The corridors of Bridgehead cut through the city like veins of steel and concrete, harsh lights reflecting off grated floors and slick walls. The smell of machinery and ozone hung thick in the air, mingling with the faint tang of coolant and scorched metal from distant fires. Every step echoed sharply, boots clanging against metal catwalks, the sound bouncing off walls that had long ceased to be friendly. Shadows pooled in corners where sparks from exposed wiring danced across walls, painting flickering shapes that threatened to move of their own accord.

“We need to get to the west wing,” Neteyam said, voice low but firm, cutting through the mechanical hum. “Short-circuit their electrical supply. That’ll slow down their expansion. You have the knife?”

Keyra limped slightly, her bulletproof vest digging into her shoulders with every step. She pressed a hand against the railing for balance, forcing her gaze ahead even as her breathing hit shallow and sharp with each uneven stride.

Neteyam noticed immediately the subtle hitch of her hip, the way her weight shifted, the faint tremor in her forearms. Each motion screamed exhaustion, each faltering step a reminder of how little margin they had left.

How did it get this bad, this quickly?

Keyra’s jaw tightened, teeth catching briefly on her lower lip as she grimaced, dragging her good leg with effort. “Yup… I have the knife.”

No time for questions, a side passage caught his eye, the faint glow of emergency lights spilling from a dented doorway. A med bay — partially intact, not destroyed, not yet claimed by fire or collapse.

Without hesitation, he made the decision. She comes first.

“Stay close,” he muttered, guiding her toward the side corridor. Keyra’s boot caught on a stray cable, and she stumbled. Neteyam’s hand shot out instantly, brushing against the fabric of her vest, the clink of armour plates rising with the motion as he steadied her.

“I haven’t heard anything from comms,” Keyra admitted, voice rough around the edges.

“Me neither,” he said, scanning the corridor ahead, noting the occasional flicker of hazard lights and the distant metallic crashes.

Every decision, every move, was filtered through the pulse he could feel thumping beneath his fingers, a faint, irregular rhythm that threatened to falter at any moment. He shifted her weight, brushing a strand of damp hair from her temple. He could feel every shallow breath rattling her chest, every tremor of exhaustion threatening to pull her to the floor.

“We should have stayed back…” She murmured.

Ahead, the med bay flickered with dim green emergency lights, dented doors half-hanging on their hinges. They could not simply leave. Every corridor behind them led deeper into the city, and the alarms had already drawn patrols closer. The slightest delay, the smallest falter, could trap them in a dead end, cut off from any safe exit.

The west wing, their objective, their mission, it could wait.

Not now.

Not while her legs dragged like they were made of lead, her vest pressing harshly against her shoulders with every uneven step.

- ➶ -

You and Mä’ko moved quickly down the lab’s narrow corridor, the reinforced soles of your boots clanging softly against metal grates. The hum of the ventilation system mingled with the faint hiss of coolant, and every shadow seemed to flicker in the dim overhead lights. Your gloved fingers brushed along the slick wall, textured with condensation that made the metal almost cold enough to bite.

“Wait— Never mind,” you muttered, tapping your radio. “We’re losing the signal. It’s fading too fast.”

Mä’ko glanced back, eyes sharp behind his lab helmet, reading the weakening spike. “Then we recirculate?”

You nodded, every muscle alert. “Yup.”

The corridor twisted into a narrow service shaft, and your transmitter suddenly flared. A strong signal pulsed from an overhead vent. You and Mä’ko shared a quick glance, then reached up, pressing into the shadows. The metal grate above shimmered faintly, the mesh vibrating from the ventilation.

“This has to be it,” you whispered. The edges of the panel were slick and cold under your fingertips, the small screws biting against your gloves as you pried it loose. Mä’ko’s eyes hovered near yours, ready, the servos of his suit humming softly as he helped you carry it down.

Then, a steel barrel kissed your helmet’s back.

“Don’t move,” a voice hissed, flat, mechanical, from directly behind you.

The second barrel pressed against Mä’ko’s spine, and you felt his breath tighten as he ground his jaw, stabilising himself.

Your heart slammed against your ribs as you froze, chest tight, eyes darting in panic. Mä’ko’s shoulder pressed just behind yours, his weight a silent anchor, his hand twitching toward his own concealed sidearm, servos whirring faintly.

“Hands where I can see them.” The barrel doesn’t move, only pressing harder, pressing closer.

Then it happened. A sudden, coordinated shift in the attackers’ stance, metal clanking, boots scraping. Your heart jumped. The first shot of a stun round, or maybe a warning spark, ricocheted off the far wall, vibrating the metal beneath your gloves.

“Now!” you hissed, ducking low and rolling to the side, dragging Mä’ko with you. Sparks flew as the attackers reacted, firing blindly into the smoke curling from the vents. Your hands closed over your weapons, tactile feedback crisp against your gloves.

The first RDA soldier swung at you with a baton; you sidestepped, pressing your weight into the motion, elbowing back, sending him sprawling. Mä’ko moved like a mirror, precise, calculated, cutting the space between you and the next threat.

Every shot, every impact, every vibration of gunmetal on metal pressed into your senses as the corridor shrank with every movement, the smoky haze making shapes flicker and jump.

You and Mä’ko sprinted back to the door you swiped open, the way you came, boots clanging against the long corridor where smoke swirled around your ankles, curling like living shadows.

The laboratory doors you had passed moments ago glimmered faintly in the haze, a promise of safety. Or at least, temporary refuge. You reached the intersection and spun around, expecting the attackers to trail close behind.

Nothing.

The corridor behind you was empty, swallowed by smoke. The RDA soldiers who had been pressing in, who had moved with the precision of a single unit, had vanished. Their boots, their metal, their weapons.

Gone.

Your mind tried to reconcile it. You had been firing, diving, ducking — hadn’t you taken most of them out? Yet now the space seemed untouched, unbroken, as if the fight had been a dream.

“Mä’ko?” Your voice cut through the fog, tense and sharp.

No answer.

Then the smoke shifted, curling low along the walls, thickening into shapes that seemed to stretch and condense with every pulse of your heartbeat.

A movement at the edge of your vision.

Tall. Controlled. Silent.

A figure stepped out of the haze.

Neteyam.

You backed instinctively, lab boots sliding against the metal floor, pulse roaring so loudly it drowned out everything else. Your grip tightened around nothing, you had no weapons on you, after letting your gloves drop.

He did not speak.

Did not hesitate.

He did not recognise you.

That meant worse.

You barely blocked the first strike.

Metal screamed as your forearm caught his blade, the vibration ripping straight through bone and tendon. Your fingers went numb instantly and in the same breath, the memory hit. Dirt under your palms. The same jolt. The same failure to absorb the impact properly.

Again, Jake’s voice had barked.

The second strike came before you could reset. It slammed into your shoulder, snapping your body sideways. Pain bloomed hot and deep, your arm buckling as you crashed into the wall, your helmet ringing against steel.

His forearm drove into your chest, pinning you there for a heartbeat, the impact rattling straight through your ribs as the air tore from your lungs. Your back scraped down the wall, boots skidding uselessly for purchase.

He had always hit like this. Clean. Economical. No wasted movement.

His elbow drove deep into your ribs. The impact punched the air from your lungs in a raw, choking sound. You folded instinctively, hands dropping for half a second too long.

Half a second had always been more than enough for him.

Then you rolled, barely avoiding the next strike as it shattered sparks from the glass cabinet where your head had been. You came up on one knee, muscles screaming, arm trembling as you raised your hands to square up again.

“Fist fight?” You had offered.

You ducked under the next punch, the rush of air brushing the top of your helmet as his fist cut past. You twisted with the motion and drove your elbow back. It clipped his side, hard enough that you felt the impact jolt up your arm.

For a heartbeat, satisfaction flared.

Then his knee slammed into your thigh.

Pain detonated, sharp and immediate. Your leg folded beneath you, balance gone in an instant as your fingers scraped blindly for purchase, catching the edge of a steel table and spilling its contents on the floor, fragile glass breaking.

His fists then came in relentless succession, each strike precise, economical, forcing you to give ground. Your counters grew smaller now. Short, desperate motions meant only to create space.

To breathe. To stay upright.

Your chest burned with every breath, lungs scraping raw as pain stacked upon pain.

You were not trying to take him down.

And yet beneath the chaos, beneath the blur of movement and half-remembered training, the truth settled cold and heavy in your chest.

You had never beaten him before.

Then, before you could react, his knee swept your legs out from under you.

Reset.

Your boots left the floor and then you were down, spine slamming against metal so hard your vision flashed white.

Sweat on your neck. Dust in your mouth. You remembered Neteyam standing over you, breathing steady, offering you his hand.

You never took it.

His hand slid down to your throat.

Fingers locked in with ruthless precision, thumb pressing beneath your jaw as his palm sealed your windpipe and pressed you down to the cold laboratory floor. His grip was crushing, unrelenting as you twisted and kicked, your heel slamming into his side with a dull thud. It barely slowed him as the edges of your vision began to darken and blur.

Neteyam, It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s m—

The words screamed in your head, clawing to get out. You could end it. One sound. One syllable. Your name on his tongue and everything would shatter to his horror.

But you stayed silent.

You closed your eyes and let a single, hot tear fall alongside your cheek. Because you had realised then, that you were going to die.

Here, on the floor, in the hands of the person who had always known exactly how to take you down.

Your training partner.

Your childhood friend.

Someone you love used to love.

A sudden wet, brutal sound cut the air.

Neteyam’s body jerked above you. His breath punched out of him in a sharp, involuntary sound as a blade drove into his abdomen from the side. The blade disappeared through his body as it was wrenched free just as fast, blood darkening the front of Neteyam’s vest.

His grip on your throat loosened.

Air rushed back into your lungs in a violent gasp as his weight shifted, his hand slipping from your throat. You rolled instinctively, coughing hard, vision swimming, throat burning as you sucked in breath after breath.

Neteyam staggered, one hand flying to his side, fingers coming away slick and red as he reached for the edge of the table above.

The Mangkwan raised his weapon again.

You did not think.

Your body moved on instinct older than fear. You surged to your feet and threw yourself between them, catching the next strike on your grip and driving your shoulder forward. The impact sent pain screaming through you, but you held, twisting, forcing the Mangkwan back just long enough to knock his aim wide.

Neteyam was hunched now, breathing shallow, teeth clenched as he fought to stay upright. His eyes flicked to you, sharp even through the pain, confusion flashing across his face.

Another step. Another shove.

What the hell?

Through the blur of the fight, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neteyam. His armoured form shifted smoothly through the smoke, careful, deliberate. Even now, in the chaos, he was making his way toward the lab’s exit. Feet clanging softly against grated floors, hands brushing walls to steady himself, body twisting past overturned tables and shattered equipment.

And then, with a final shove against the Mangkwan, you slammed their body against the door button. The hiss of steel filled your ears, reverberating through your chest, cutting the lab in two.

Your eyes did not leave Neteyam’s. His gaze was searching, questioning, scanning for what he couldn’t understand.

Then finally, the door slammed shut.

The lab fell into muffled chaos behind you, smoke curling like ghostly fingers. Your chest heaved as you pivoted, boots clanging against metal floors, adrenaline and guilt squeezing your lungs. The door between you and the one person you could never let know the truth was now a wall of steel.

Mä’ko.

The thought cut through the haze, urgent and sharp. You ran to find him, vision blurring and tears prickling under your eyelids leaving blood and questions behind, suspended like smoke that might never settle.

Mats and blankets were stacked in corners, makeshift supplies lined along the Marui’s edges, and a faint metallic tang of blood hung in the air. The murmurs of the rest of the clan drifting past and some praying outside found themselves through the thin walls, low and rhythmic, punctuated by the occasional shuffle of someone kneeling or adjusting a mat.

Inside, the medics had finished stitching and bandaging Mä’ko’s roadmap of wounds. The vest had been cut away, revealing long, ragged gashes across his ribs, some deep enough to catch the light, the edges raw and red. One cut ran diagonally across his shoulder, partially hidden beneath the bandages, a thin trickle of dark blood still seeping through. Gauze straps and crude splints held him in position; he was stabilised, but the rise and fall of his chest was slow, uneven, like a fragile rhythm that could falter at any moment.

The weight of guilt pressed down on you heavier than any armour ever could. Every failure, every misstep, every choice that had led you here — it coiled around your ribs and tightened with each shallow breath.

Every pulse under your fingers felt like a hammering reminder that he had been on the edge, and you had been powerless to stop it.

The tent flap swished open and Neteyam stepped in, supported by two healers. His eyes hit the mat instantly, and the world seemed to narrow to a single, unbearable point.

He froze at the entrance.

Your head was pressed to Mä’ko’s chest, ears picking up the faint, uneven thrum of his heartbeat. Each pulse was small but insistent, a fragile life force that demanded attention, and it made your guilt twist tighter in your stomach. His eyes were closed, lips parted slightly, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was unconscious, slumped against the mat, yet pulsing with a presence that felt impossibly real, impossibly fragile in your hands.

Tears streamed freely, soaking your hair and the front of your chest, slipping between your fingers as you clutched him, shuddering violently. Your breath came in sharp, wet bursts, muffled against the fabric of his chest. You whispered apologies you couldn’t even make audible, soft, broken fragments that dissolved into more sobs.

It was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you in years. All the careful armour, the sharp edges you wore around the clan, the walls you built between yourself and everyone — you had let them crumble here, in the dim light of the tent, pressed to Mä’ko’s side. You were unravelling, each sob, each shudder, every ragged breath a thread pulled from the fabric of control you had spent so long weaving.

For a moment, he wondered if the roles were reversed, if it had been him lying here, wounded and fragile, would you have ever let yourself feel for him like that? Would he ever see those cracks in your armour, those tears you so carefully hid from everyone else?

And yet, even in that moment, as he watched, something lodged inside him. An understanding, a fear, a longing. Seeing you like this, so breakable, it was proof of how fiercely you carried the people you loved, how much you had survived in silence.

And yet, as Neteyam stood there in the doorway, watching you collapse over Mä’ko’s battered body, he realised something that hollowed him out.

You would bleed for him. You would die for him.

The question was not whether he would ever be privileged enough to deserve your pain.

But if you would ever break for him the same way you were breaking for another man now.

Neteyam stayed where he was, silent and unmoving, letting your cries swallow the sound of his shaky breaths.

i’m lowkenuinely evil……. here’s an ending apology for what i put y’all’s through… hehe 🤍 7.7k words and still so much left unsaid and unresolved. neteyam and y/n are such avoidant people WHAT THE FAWK. give me all of it. if you guys have any questions, please feel free to ask! i could talk about these characters for hours, the foils of neteyam and keyra versus mä’ko and y/n, y/n and neteyam, neteyam versus mä’ko, their relationships to loss, the impact of war. if you guys noticed any of the comparisons between characters, their personalities, how they carry themselves, how neteyam and y/n both found partners they need but still aren’t the other…. spill it in the comments down below!! i would love love to talk more to you guys since my last part blew up in tags and comments!! oh, and…

taglist !!!! (btw thank you guys so much for being here, it rlly keeps me going and writing): 💕

@odiodina @junyrosess @jellykitti @aryasasas @imsojuliaaaaaa @moonlitpagess @eternal-ems @angxedxtz @pussmunch @neteyamwife4life @automaticpatroltragedy @koogiix @danilovesangst @arkhamknight-47 @mfreader @nightmaredressedlikeadaydream57 @i-simp @tootstoots @stomach-bugg09 @ecstqzy @theinkofyourfeather @ahhhhhhh83 @evelynstanmarvel123

[feyhunter78]

The Dreadful Need in the Devotee Masterlist - Completed

Summary - During your Uncle Robert's Royal Procession, you find yourself enraptured with Ned Starks' bastard son. While Jon has never dreamed so vividly until your arrival, a thread seems to exist between you and him, pulling you together.

Luckily for you both, your father Tyrion has decided you need a sworn sword.

I’ve messed with canon and aged everyone up, so we start our story off with y/n being fifteen and Jon being sixteen, then go from there!

Ch 1: The Little Lion Ch 2: The Bastard Son Ch 3: Cyvassse Ch 4: Greensight Ch 5: The Tourney of the Hand Ch 6: The Chamber of the Little Lion Ch 7: Within Lannister Grasp Ch 8: Secrets Revealed Ch 9: Enter Stage Left: House Tyrell🔥 Ch 10: Aftermath Ch 11: Roseroad Ch 12: Weirwood Ch 13: The Queen's Nameday Ch 14: The Son of the Morning Ch 15: Duality of a Lioness Ch 16: The Young Wolf Ch 17: Northern War Camp Ch 18: The Fall of the Lannisters Ch 19: Post War Revelry Ch 20: The Lion and the Star🔥 Ch 21: As Time Unfurls🔥

[pandoraslxna]

— ❝ Who's the mighty warrior? Come on, say it. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ The heat that spreads

Neteyam is more than happy to help you out when you are in heat.

⋆｡° ✮ Lost and found (mini series)

Neteyam hates humans. One day, he finds you all alone and lost in the forest, but quickly decides against killing you. What might be the odd reason for that?

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

⋆｡° ✮ Three is always unfortunate

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) Neteyam is ready to do everything in his might to protect his precious little sister. Especially from mean boys that can't keep their hands to themselves.

⋆｡° ✮ Not good enough

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) Neteyam isn't happy about the future mate his parents have chosen for you. Afterall, no one can compare to him.

⋆｡° ✮ Work of art

You're an artist and Neteyam accidentally finds your secret notebook, full of filthy drawings you've made to cope with the little crush you had on him.

⋆｡° ✮ Special friends (mini series)

Neteyam was so used to being the golden child of his family, always doing as he's told... he wanted to be bad sometimes too. He wanted to be the one that would teach you all these filthy things. All the things you were never allowed to do, talk or even think about.

Chapter 1/ Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

⋆｡° ✮ Competitive hate

When you compete, it's always a battle to see who will get the upper hand. And when you fuck, it's the same struggle.

⋆｡° ✮ Drunk words, sober secrets

Getting drunk with Ao'nung was probably not the best idea you ever had. Good thing a certain someone always makes sure you'll get home safe and sound.

⋆｡° ✮ Infected

(Stepbro! Neteyam AU) While on a hunt with your stepbrother Neteyam, he comes in contact with something that makes him act... strange.

⋆｡° ✮ A lesson on concentration

(featuring Neytan) Lately, you can't seem to focus on any of your training lessons in preparation for your upcoming iknimaya and your karyu [teacher] are determined to find out why.

⋆｡° ✮ Unwinding together

Neteyam seems quite tense lately, and like the good friend that you are, you offer him a way to relief all of his stress.

⋆｡° ✮ Feral hearts

There is always a thrill to the chase.

⋆｡° ✮ Sweet dreams

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) It's date night, the marui is quiet and Neteyam has you all to himself.

⋆｡° ✮ A mighty warriors need

The only trouble Neteyam allows himself to get into, is you.

⋆｡° ✮ Quid Pro Quo

You owe Neteyam a favor. Luckily, the olo’eyktan has just the idea how you could repay him.

⋆｡° ✮ Smells like trouble

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

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Neteyam loves when you wear short dresses

Some sneaky under the table action

Dom!Neteyam edging himself

How he would celebrate your birthday

Discovering that the word "sir" turns him on

He makes you squirt for the first time

Neteyam learns what a lollipop is

Stepbro!Neteyam + cockwarming

Distracting him when he's grumpy

Possessive / toxic Neteyam

Public make out session with Neteyam while your mate is busy looking for you

Free use kink

Forming an alliance with So’lek

Sub!Neteyam

Size kink

Dominant and vocal

Age gap

Neteyam in rut

Forbidden love

Best friends to lovers x breeding kink

[kazekagevi]

Bonds Beyond Words: If Eywa Wills It

PART ONE PART TWO

Pairing: Aged-Up!Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k 

Tags: dark themes, indirect mention of r*pe, suicide attempt, eventual NSFW, aged-up! Neteyam, reader has PTSD, Neteyam dislikes humans (except for you), eventual jealous/possessive Neteyam, future Olo'eyktan! Neteyam, interspecies slow burn, angst, fluff, probably OOC, POV’s all over the place, forgive the inconsistencies. 

Summary: You, a competent researcher and writer, awoke from cryosleep a year ago, only to be imprisoned by the RDA—they intended to force you and many other women into a selective breeding program to kickstart human repopulation. However, you, the other prisoners, and allied wardens formed an escape plan; it was carried out, but you are the lone survivor. 

A/N and Disclaimer: This is my first x reader fic! This is also my first fic on Tumblr in years! I've been reading a lot of ATWOW fics and thought I would write my own. I am also challenging myself to write in present tense (I'm a past tense girly), so please forgive any grammatical errors. Hope you enjoy <3

This story contains explicit content and is only appropriate for audiences 18+. MDNI. Please do not repost my work. 

The tracking device beneath your skin feels like a ticking time bomb—although you’re certain it doesn’t have the power to detonate, should the RDA find your location before the prison sector’s power unit comes back online, it could still bring mass destruction to this region of the extrasolar moon. As if the RDA hasn't done enough of that already. 

As you walk barefoot through the unfamiliar forest of Pandora, you wonder if this is heaven. Surely, you must have died along the way—you survived the initial jailbreak, then the evasion at dawn, and managed to remain mostly unscathed from the chopper accident. On Earth, you’d feel compelled to buy a lottery ticket. The thought alone makes you chuckle, and your mask fogs in response. Your laughs, albeit quiet, turn maniacal. Maybe you hit your head hastily fleeing the first bunker, or got thwacked by metal shrapnel in the crash. 

If you live, the escape will count as a partial success. Living would make you a hero; but as darkness falls on this foreign planet, you silently wish you had become a martyr like the others instead. 

You’re completely defenseless. You have nothing more than your respirator mask that won’t stop fogging due to your panicked breaths, and the clothes on your back. You adorn an oversized jacket that you stole from the valiantly deceased helo pilot, and your prison uniform—it’s nothing more than a flimsy, green hospital gown. 

You should know more about this place. You were chosen among an elite class of writers to research alien life on Pandora. You loved traveling and writing about new cultures—studying language, customs, and history. It was your pride and joy, your life’s work. Yet, the nightmare started the day you woke from cryosleep and you were forced into a tiny cell with three other women. In your year of imprisonment, two of them had already been selected into the breeding program, while you and the other, Claudia, were awaiting that same fate. 

You almost slip on a patch of sludge and break your fall by grabbing a tree stump. 

You do know, however, that this hostile environment will kill you if you don’t find the tribe you’re searching for. Certainly, your luck will run out soon. 

So, you stop laughing, blink away the tears in your eyes, and regain your focus. You’d slap your own cheeks if you could, but your mask renders the act impossible. You have to survive, or else the girls’ and allied wardens’ deaths will be meaningless. 

As you continue on your path, the mud starts to dampen, coating the soles of your feet. You presume this is from a recent rainstorm, or perhaps you’re nearing a water source. You swallow hard—inevitably, you’re thirsty. But if breathing Pandora’s air will kill you, the water will likely do the same.

As you carefully wade through the soppy terrain, you repeat the same phrases under your breath like a prayer or mantra. Even if you suffered amnesia and lost all your memories like a slate wiped clean, you could suffice to lose it all, except a few words which you memorized in Na’vi. 

Using these phrases would determine if you lived or died, assuming you weren’t slain with an arrow on sight: after introducing yourself in the language, you must tell them you seek asylum with the Omatikaya clan at High Camp and Max knows you’re coming. Lastly, you needed to say there is a tracking device under my skin, please cut it out. 

You recite these phrases again, except this time you mess up the grammatical structure on the last part. You winge, correct yourself, and continue on your course.

The planet begins to dim as time passes. As you avoid tripping over tree roots and crushing delicate flowers, you notice Pandora’s subtle glow. The bioluminescent spots that dot the terrain look like freckles on skin. It’s the first time you’re seeing the real thing up close, instead of in a tiny photograph. You’re as enamored as you are terrified. 

Your feet hurt and your shins ache when night fully settles. You’ve been traveling by foot for hours. Imprisonment and preparation for forced motherhood meant there was little opportunity for exercise in the compound. Your body isn’t used to lifting heavy things or globetrotting long distances. 

As you use the last of your energy reserves to think—to consider stopping in a safe area for a break—a tremendous force stops you first. 

This is it, you think. You know you're going to die. 

The force is a Na’vi, whom you cannot see. From their position behind you, an arm wraps around your abdomen, lifting your smaller body off the ground like a doll. The Na’vi lodges their elbow into your stomach, knocking the wind out of you, all so they can wrap their large blue hand around your small, human neck. Despite the panic, you notice how controlled the Na’vi’s grip is—just enough to hold you still without choking you. It feels like a strange paralysis. Your oxygen mask fogs as you pant in distress. 

“Why I should not kill you?” The Na’vi asks in broken English. The timbre of the voice leads you to believe this one is male. 

Say the thing! your mind reels. You resist the urge to flail your limbs. The slightest movements make the Na’vi tighten his grip—at this very moment, you notice his other hand holds a dagger to your throat. The space between your skin and the blade is miniscule, as is your proximity to certain death. 

So you do it, you say the thing. Except, it comes out all wrong:

“My… My name is Asylum at High Camp,” you stammer in Pandora’s native language. 

The Na’vi makes a sound of confusion. You won’t know until later, but Neteyam thinks your pronunciation is mechanical, unpleasant, and downright horrible. 

Your chest heaves wildly and your heart thrums in your chest like a drum. The realization hits like a truck. “Wait… No, that’s not right,” you say in English. Your jagged breaths aren’t allowing oxygen to circulate in the mask properly—the same goes for your brain. 

The Na’vi growls against your ear. You’re running out of time. You gather the last of your composure. 

You tell him your name, properly this time, then continue with your monologue. “I-I seek asylum at High Camp, Max knows I’m coming,” you sputter like a dying engine. 

The Na’vi makes another sound of confusion, yet still seems dissatisfied. He gently presses the tip of the knife to your throat. 

“No! Please!” you beg. Your hands instinctively wrap around his glowing-freckled forearm, but you don’t tug. 

The Na’vi freezes. You can’t see it, but something is happening. 

Neteyam’s hairless brows furrow when a woodsprite lands on the edge of the blade he inherited from his maternal grandfather. The woodsprite lingers there, teetering on the edge. Then, it slots itself into the small space between your skin and his knife. You can’t help but cringe at the slight tickle of its tendrils against your collarbone. 

“Eywa,” Neteyam whispers to himself. His voice is so quiet that you cannot hear. 

The woodsprite travels over your clavicle and settles against the skin just below it. The woodsprite glows with vibrance. The light winks at Neteyam. He knows it's a sign. The tip of his knife drags gently against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. The woodsprite flutters away once his knife is over the spot where the tracker sits beneath the surface. His lips part—the area feels hard when he knows it shouldn’t be. 

Your eyes widen. You remember your lines, like an amateur actor taking the stage for the first time. 

“There’s a tracker!” you shout in English. Your shrill voice catches even Neteyam—the future Olo'eyktan—off guard. 

“A tracker?” Neteyam retorts, his voice laced with aggression and uncertainty. He doesn’t recognize that word, but your tone implies grave danger. 

You nod. “There is a tracking device under my skin,” you say in the Na’vi’s native tongue. “Please, cut it out!”

Fright flashes upon Neteyam’s face. Mentally, he’s reeling—were you sent here as bait from the sky demons? Is he falling into another one of their traps? Images of the tracker the Sky People lodged into the tulkun’s fin on the reefs of Awa'atlu flood his mind. His heart feels heavy when he thinks of Ro'a and her cub. 

Physically, however, Neteyam does as he’s told. He would never willingly take orders from Sky People, but he knows in this instance, it’s the only way to protect himself, his family, and his clan. He must abide by these orders for the greater good. 

Neteyam moves swiftly as he pins you against the nearest tree. He holds you there by your neck. Your eyes meet for a brief moment, then he zeros in on the neckline of your hospital gown. He uses his thumb to feel for the tracking device, raises his knife, and cuts. 

Pupils blown wide, you study his face in the moment of reprieve before he slashes at your skin. His eyes are bright yellow, like tiny suns or egg yolks. His lips are full, and as he grimaces, he reveals a shiny set of white teeth. His ears point backwards: he’s agitated. His tail swishes from side to side. He wears his hair in braids. Around his neck, he adorns an ornamental choker necklace. 

You howl through your teeth. Your jaw is clenched. The pain is unbearable, but at the same time, it’s the best kind you’ve ever felt. Even if this Na’vi should kill you right after, at least in your last moments, you’ll feel free. 

Blood pools around his knife as he cuts through the first layer of skin. He tries to ignore your cries as he presses his long fingertips into the open wound. He pulls when he feels a small piece of plastic; with a bit of effort, he dislodges it from your body. 

You sigh in relief when the Na’vi removes it, but the pain lingers—it worsens when you press your fingertips against the wound to stop the bleeding. Your eyelids are heavy. You feel lightheaded. 

The Na’vi removes his grip from your neck, only so he can destroy the tracker. Neteyam notes that trackers he’s encountered in the past tend to beep, light up, or some combination of both—this one has neither of those attributes. The uncomfortable knots in Neteyam’s stomach begin to untie, but he cannot give up his resolve. His work is unfinished. 

He presses the tracker against the tree bark, grunts, and he hacks away with his weapon.

Even as you’re bleeding—potentially to death—you continue to study the Na’vi’s physique and stature. This one in particular is muscular and athletic, and presumably taller than average. The way his muscles move under his blue skin is enchanting, and the way his freckles glow, you might as well be looking up at the night sky. You’re certain this will be your last chance to witness life on Pandora, or life at all—might as well bask in it. 

The tracker is chopped and diced into small pieces, like how you used to cut vegetables back on Earth. The Na’vi looks pleased with his work. Then, his hairless brows furrow again, he spits into his hand, and throws the pieces as far as he can into the Pandoran wilderness. He hisses. You think it’s some kind of power move, but you’re not quite sure, and you definitely don’t have the gall to ask. 

Neteyam stands still for a moment, bloodied hands on his hips. He has yet to face the elephant in the room—or in this circumstance, the tawtute against the tree. 

That blood is only yours. Your eyes roll into the back of your head; you see stars upon realizing just how much you’ve lost. 

---

You wake to the sounds of beeps and whirrs.

All is quiet. You’re in a small room with white walls. The lights are dimmed. Your breaths are slow and relaxed—but as the cogs start to turn, you begin to question if you’re safe or not. 

Pain shoots through your shoulder like a strike of lightning as you sit up in the cot you’ve been sleeping in. You wince loudly, and the noise echoes. 

Your mind briefly recalls the events of the last twenty-four hours, leading up to the encounter with the Na’vi. Evidently, it wasn’t a dream or figment of your highly active imagination. 

Your clavicle has been wrapped in a thick bandage. When you pull back the thin blanket that covers the rest of you, you realize the dirt and grime that covered your feet and legs has been washed away. 

You sigh in relief. You think you’re safe, until you discover that your old hospital gown has been replaced with a brand new albeit identical one—one with the Resource Development Administration’s logo on the tag. 

Your heart feels heavy. 

The escape was unsuccessful. The mission failed.

It makes sense now, as your vision swims through the confined space. This must be it—this must be where they took Seraphina, and Leah, and Clover. This must be where the girls who get picked go. Where they are prepared. Where they are taken. 

You sit there for a few moments, then begin to hyperventilate. The Na’vi male must have left you there to die, and the RDA must have tracked you down anyway. Given that they lost all of their prisoners in the jailbreak, it made sense. They would do anything to get you back. 

You shatter like glass.

Tears prick your bloodshot eyes like thorns. You pluck each wire from your arm like guitar strings, separating yourself from any machines. They continue to beep, but at a different pace, like a sounding alarm. 

You search the room for an escape. You spot a pitcher and sponge on the counter adjacent to the bed. 

In the laboratory across from the infirmary room, Max looks up from his microscope when he hears a loud crash. He jumps up from his swivel chair and dashes across the hall, opening the infirmary door. 

Max has no choice but to undertake—you have a large shard of glass in your hand, and you use all the force in your tired body to resist. He grimaces as you continue to aim for a critical slice on your opposite wrist. His words fail to soothe. 

“Norm!” the unfamiliar man calls. “We’ve got a cutter!” 

Footsteps thump down the hall, then another man enters. “Holy shit,” he says. “What the hell is going on?!”

“I don’t know!” Max shouts back. 

Norm, in his human form, hops over the pile of broken glass, and crouches to meet your bleary, downcast eyes. “Hey… Hey! Stop! You’re safe here!”

You can’t stop the tears from coming. You shake your head and continue to thrash in Max’s arms. “To hell with you RDA fucks!” you spit at him. 

Norm’s eyes fall shut when a glob of saliva hits his left cheek. He counts to three before responding. “We’re not with them!” He grabs your wrists. “Calm down! You’re at High Camp!”

You freeze. You choke on a loud sob. “What?” you ask weakly. 

“I’m Norm,” the one crouching before you says. “That guy, behind you, he’s Max. We’re scientists allied with the Na’vi. This is the stronghold. You’re in our laboratory.” 

You sniffle. The room goes silent. “But this gown?” you croak, showing him the logo.

Norm sighs. “We loot supplies from RDA… That’s all.” 

“Take a deep breath,” says Max. You do as you're told, and your muscles relax. Max docks the glass shard from your hand and eases his grip. Norm nods in approval. “One more,” Max adds. Inhale. Exhale. “You’re alright now.” 

Inevitably, you start crying again. But this time, your tears are joyous. The tension breaks like ice—it’s melting. You’re awash in relief you thought would never come. It’s euphoric. It’s blissful. You’re free. 

A year of suffering and imprisonment is released in your loud sobs. Max catches you before you can fall to your knees on the remnants of the broken pitcher. Neither of them know what to say, so they say nothing. 

Norm, the one on the floor, wipes his cheek with the collar of his shirt. Then he reaches into one of the infirmary cabinets, procuring a dust pan and small sweeper. He does his best to clean the porcelain shards quickly and quietly. “Get her an Ativan,” he mumbles to Max on his way to the disposal bin. Max swallows his nerves. 

---

You’re moved into another room in the facility after your incident in the infirmary. When you come to, you feel slightly embarrassed. You didn’t even check to see if the door of that room was unlocked, which it was. 

“I’m sorry about your pitcher,” you tell Max as he returns from the linen closet with the blankets you asked for. 

Max chuckles. He wants to say he’s more than sorry about all that’s happened to you. He was aiding and abetting the lead warden—the one who came up with the masterplan. “Don’t worry about it. That pitcher meant nothing to me,” he assures. 

You crack a crooked, uneasy smile. The Ativan is starting to take its effect. Max smiles back.

You feel grateful. The scientists here have been nothing but kind and patient. 

You can’t help but also feel grateful to the Na’vi male who presumably saved your life. You don’t know where he is, how to find him, or if you’ll see him again, but you feel indebted. You want to ask Max how you can show your gratitude, but that will have to wait. 

“Thank you,” you say. “For everything.” 

Max nods with a crestfallen smile. “If you need anything else, I’ll be around in the lab all day. Norm will be spending some time as his Avatar, so he won’t be around until later,” he says. “You were out for two entire days, I’m sure you’re hungry. Feel free to have anything in the walk-in or pantry. We don’t always have meals together as a crew, but tonight we’ll have dinner together,” Max explains. 

You’re left alone once Max is sure you’re settled and calm, and won’t break the vase on the coffee table that he does care about. 

---

A/N: Feel free to leave any and all feedback on this chapter! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciate. In part two, Norm and Max will discuss your arrival with our king, Jake Sully. <3

NEXT CHAPTER: PART TWO

[vampsywrites]

IV — i remember her hands, and the way the mountains looked.

Synopsis: In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.

Tags: Female! Mountain Na'vi! Reader, Arranged Marriage, Strangers to Lovers, Neteyam is whipped, Making out, Mentions of blood, Arguments, Physical Fights, Protective Neteyam, Slight Jealous Neteyam

Word Count: 5k | AO3 LINK

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

"Control your breath, like a soothing river finding its rhythm."

Today's lesson was a departure from the usual climbing sessions you've had the last months. Neteyam had proven himself more than capable of scaling the heights with ease, showcasing his prowess as a skilled and agile climber. It was time to advance his training further and introduce him to a new and essential skill: the art of breath control.

As Omatikaya, he lacked the enhanced lung capacity that your own physiology provided. Over generations, your people had adapted to the challenging conditions of Pandora's higher elevations, making your lungs incredibly efficient at utilizing the limited oxygen resources available. This biological disadvantage of his made it all the more crucial for Neteyam to learn proper techniques.

Sitting cross-legged opposite each other, knees touching, your hands gently pressed against his diaphragm and chest as you began the lesson.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose," you instructed softly. "Fill your lungs to their fullest capacity, and feel the air spreading to every corner, energizing your body."

Neteyam followed your guidance, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled deeply through his nose. His chest rose, and you could feel his abdomen expanding under your touch as he took in the breath. His inhale was steady but not as deep as you wanted it to be.

"Remember to ease your body," you pointed out gently. "Try again. I want you to hold that breath for a moment, just a beat longer than you're used to. Then release the air slowly through your mouth. Let it flow out like a gentle stream, not a gusty wind."

Neteyam complied. He closed his eyes once more and took a deep breath through his nose, following your guidance carefully. His chest expanded further this time, and you could feel the tension in his body as he held his breath for a moment before exhaling slowly through his mouth.

"You are doing well," you beam.

Despite appearing as though you were focused on teaching Neteyam, your gaze occasionally shifted to the others around you. In the distance, Lo'ak, Tuk, and Kiri were having their own lessons, led by a skilled warrior-hunter from your clan. It seemed as though they were learning well, albeit still displaying moments of clumsiness.

These past few months, normalcy resettled itself in the Sully family rather quickly, like a piece of a puzzle that’s been jostled loose slotting seamlessly back into place.

Kiri, in particular, seemed to be in her element — lost in a world of her own. The girl had long wandered away from her group, traversing the slope of the rock with a skill that far surpassed her experience. She was completely absorbed in the breathtaking views the mountain provided and the wild flora that adorned its sides.

Tuk, on the other hand, was having a blast with a group of younger kids. They were energetically bouncing off the lower parts of the rock wall with their ropes, playing and laughing together. Their youthful enthusiasm was contagious, and it brought a nostalgic smile to your face, reminding you of your own childhood.

Lo'ak had also adapted smoothly, effortlessly climbing higher peaks with a few Na'vi your age. He appeared at ease, his initial apprehension towards the heights now gone as he engaged in friendly banter and conversations with your people.

“I think you’re just using this as an excuse to feel me up, syulang.”

Neteyam's voice draws your attention away, his calloused hands cupping over yours and pressing them flat against the planes of his chest and abdomen. His dark azure skin was smooth beneath your touch, the defined muscles firm and sculpted, evidence of his disciplined training and physical prowess as a warrior.

A cross frown danced on your lips as you retorted, "It is you who is placing my hands over your skin. I am just making sure you're learning properly. “

Neteyam's lips curled into a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I don't see you removing them," he quipped, his fingers lightly brushing against the back of your hand.

With a shake of your head, you slap at his side of his ribs, eliciting a grunt of surprise from the man.

"Enough. Show me the form I taught," you instruct, shifting back into your role as his teacher.

Neteyam does his breathing exercises accordingly, and you watch with a keen eye, pleased to see his improved technique.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

"Yes," you nod approvingly, genuinely impressed, "that is good."

As the lesson continued to flow smoothly, you instinctively moved closer to Neteyam, wanting to better feel the rise and fall of his chest as he practiced his breathing. In response, Neteyam couldn't resist the impulse to pull at your arms, playfully coaxing you into his lap.

"Skxawng! " With a laugh, you surrendered and settled into his embrace.

Fronts firmly pressed against each other, the closeness between you felt comforting and familiar. It was like two halves of a whole coming together, bodies fitting together so naturally that it was as if they were meant to be in this position.

Neither of you made a move to break the embrace. There was no rush, no need to move on from this moment of connection. Instead, you found yourself cupping his face in your hands, a rare smile gracing your lips as you gazed down at him. Neteyam's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, fiddling with the back of your woven chest piece, causing a delightful shiver to travel down your spine. The simple touch spoke volumes, conveying a level of intimacy that went beyond words.

"I am still so impressed at how fast you have learned," you whisper softly.

"I have a great teacher," Neteyam laughs, his tail coiling around your thigh in an affectionate manner. Mirroring his actions, your tail trails up his torso, exploring his rugged skin before wrapping itself around his forearm.

As your hands move to his sides, intending to trace comforting circles, you notice a sudden jerk from Neteyam, followed by a low hiss slipping from his lips. In an instant, worry floods your senses, and you draw away from him, giving him space.

"What is it?" you say in panic, your eyes quickly scanning his figure for any signs of distress. They land on small, bloodied scratch marks by his ribs, and realization washes over you.

"Ah," you grimace, a hint of shame in your voice as you hastily reach into your medicinal pouch, your fingers searching for a specific bottle. "I apologize. I did not realize my claws were digging into your skin."

Neteyam offers a reassuring smile, though you can tell that he isn't blaming you in the slightest. "It's alright," he says. "You are acting like I was just maimed. These are little scratches, nothing serious."

You appreciate his attempt to alleviate your concern, knowing that he is not blaming you in the slightest. Still, you find the bottle you were searching for and carefully apply the healing ointment to the scratch marks, your touch featherlight. Neteyam observes your hands move swiftly, appreciating the skill with which you handle the situation.

As Tsahìk, you were used to being gentle and careful with your touch, but there were moments when your physical attributes could unintentionally cause harm. At the tips of your slender fingers were rugged and curved structures resembling claws. This unique feature was a defining characteristic of your people, granting you a remarkable advantage in navigating challenging terrains with ease.

Once you finish applying the ointment, Neteyam takes ahold of your hands, dragging them up until they are eye-level. The warrior's touch is tender as he begins to trace his finger along the curve of your claws. His eyes study the intricate detailing, admiring the look of your unique appendages.

When relaxed, your fingers appeared deceptively normal, concealing the sharp daggers within. But with a simple flex of your hand, the claws emerged gracefully. During his lessons, you would usually keep them out, ready to demonstrate and assist him at any moment.

"I should have been more careful," you murmur, withdrawing your claws.

Neteyam shakes his head, his expression gentle and reassuring. "It's not your fault." He then holds your hands in his, his large palm practically engulfing yours. "Your baby hands did not cause much damage anyways."

In offense, you playfully slap his shoulder, your mouth dropping open in feigned shock. "I will have you know that these 'baby hands' have scaled mountains and traversed terrains you cannot begin to imagine!"

Neteyam raises an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed, but a mischievous grin tugs at his lips. "Oh, I am sure they have."

The carefree scene is abruptly interrupted as a shadow suddenly looms over you. Lifting your gaze, you find a familiar face twisted into a stern expression, the lines of displeasure etched across his edged features.

"Tserat," you spat the name out as if it were a poison lathered on your tongue, your disdain for him evident in the sharpness of your tone.

Throughout your life, this man had been a constant thorn in your side, always critical of your choices and quick to engage in arguments.

Among many, his vehement disapproval of your sudden engagement with the eldest Sully boy was no secret, and you were well aware that he had something to say about it now.

The Na'vi acknowledged you with a forced smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was a flicker of malice in his gaze as he shifted his focus to Neteyam, sizing up the warrior with a critical eye.

"Forest boy, I see you're enjoying your little lesson," Tserat quipped with a mocking tone. "Didn't know you needed such close instruction."

"We were just practicing some breathing techniques," Neteyam replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he maintained a remarkable composure despite the charged atmosphere. The venomous tone with which Tserat addressed him was not lost on the Omatikayan, but he chose not to acknowledge it — avoiding any unnecessary conflict.

And yet, Tserat's taunts only continued as he stepped closer, trying to provoke a reaction. "A lesson on breathing techniques?" he scoffed. "Those are only given to little children."

Your patience was wearing thin, and frustration seeped into your voice as you snapped back at him, "Why do you come to us? What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want to know why you are allowing him to seduce you like this," Tserat hissed, his glare intensifying. "This vrrtep—"

The derogatory word hit a nerve, and anger surged within you. Snarling in response, your tail whipped around angrily, "You speak to future Olo'eyktan, Tserat!"

"Future Olo'eyktan?" Tserat scoffed derisively. "The halfbreed can barely scale up a hill! A forest dweller like him wouldn't last a day with our mountain-born warriors, let alone dare to lead them."

"You would do well not to underestimate him," you spat back with a fiery edge, warning firm as you stood your ground, defending Neteyam. "He is embracing our ways with utmost respect and honor, more than some who were born into it."

"This outsider can learn, but his roots are deep in the forest. He will never truly understand the heart and soul of our people." Tserat remarked, face twisted in a hateful sneer. Then, his attention shifted to Neteyam, words dripping with scorn, "You should just go away!"

"Tserat—" you interject, but your words are cut short when a strong hand latches onto your elbow, shutting down the stream of your furious thoughts.

Neteyam steps closer, his hands now moving to gently grip at your waist, seeking to ground you.

"Leave it," he urges softly, trying to diffuse the tension. "Leave it, tìyawn."

You oblige, trying to shift your focus to Neteyam, desperately wanting to tune out Tserat's jeers, to let them fade into the background like distant echoes. But you knew him all too well; if he was anything, he was relentless.

"Stupid girl," the hunter hisses, his words laced with venom, as he whips his head back in agitation. "Always going head first. Never thinking!"

"Watch your tone," Neteyam growls under his breath, the low rumble vibrating through his chest like distant thunder, as his tail wraps itself around your hips protectively. Though his eyes remain fixed on Tserat, Neteyam's senses are on high alert, attuned to every nuance of your body language—from the subtle shift of your ears pinning back against your head to the coiling of your tail low by your feet.

At the sight of your clear discomfort, his other hand itches at the side of his hip where his blade was, instincts screaming for him to act.

"Hey!" The loud voice of Lo'ak booms across the clearing, announcing his arrival. His eyes narrows as he strides forward, each heavy step accompanied by the rhythmic swing of his braids and the clicking of beads.

"Fuck is your problem?" Lo'ak scowls, his tone laced with anger and disdain. He forcefully shoves Tserat back, nearly knocking the man off balance. The grin Tserat flashes at the Omatikaya in response is nothing but a display of teeth and pure viciousness.

"Look who's here, another half-bred freak," Tserat bites back as he pushes against Lo'ak's shoulders, attempting to regain some ground.

Kiri, appearing in a disheveled mess but fierce as ever, storms into the scene — anger lacing her features. Without hesitation, she raises her voice, directing her anger at Tserat.

"Leave us alone!" Kiri shouts as she takes hold of Lo'ak's arm, preventing her younger brother from making any rash moves. But before she can persuade Lo'ak to calm himself, he wrenches his arm free from her grasp.

Without a second thought, Lo'ak hurls himself forward, his fist colliding with Tserat's jaw in a sickening thud. The hunter's head snaps to the side, blood spewing from his split lip as he's left momentarily stunned. After coming to his senses, Tserat snarls, eyes filled with rage as he hits back at Lo'ak with an equal measure of force.

Both of them grapple each other, bodies locked in a struggle. In the chaos of the crossfire, Tserat unexpectedly knocks into you, catching you off guard. Your feet tangle, and you stumble backward, unable to maintain your balance. With a harsh thud, you crash onto the unforgiving dirt ground, pain flaring through your body.

"Tserat!" you shriek, a mixture of anger and pain lacing your voice.

Before you can fully gather your bearings, Neteyam is already in action. In one fluid and furious motion, he lunges forward and shoves Tserat away from his brother, the sheer force of the push sending the hunter hurtling back into the rugged rock face of the mountain. The impact reverberates through the air, a loud thud echoing in the clearing, followed by the rumble of loose stones tumbling down the slope.

Dust billows up around Tserat, momentarily obscuring his figure in a haze of grit and debris. As the cloud of dust clears, Tserat emerges, his eyes burning with a dangerous glint, his rage undeterred by the impact.

Neteyam's lips curl back into a snarl, fangs bared in an unmistakable display of aggression. A guttural hiss then erupts from his lips, a growl that emanates from deep within his chest. It's a primal warning, a clear message that he will not tolerate any further harm directed towards you or anyone else he cares about.

"You—!" Tserat, refusing to back down, meets Neteyam's hiss with one of his own, his fingers tightening around the hilt of the axe at his hip.

Neteyam's response is swift and decisive. He too arms himself, unsheathing his knife. Its sharp metallic sound rings out like a battle cry, slicing through the air with a deadly "shhlck!" The blade gleams in the dappled sunlight, its edge honed and ready for any threat that may come his way.

As the pain from the earlier shove courses through your body, you grit your teeth and rise to your feet, adrenaline fueling you. You rush to Neteyam's side, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath your trembling hand as you press it against his chest.

"Ma'Neteyam" you hush. "Mawey. It is alright. It is alright."

Tserat's eyes burn with envy and resentment as he watches the bond between you and Neteyam, a bond that he can't comprehend, much less accept. To him, it's a betrayal, a disloyalty to your people.

The way your touch traced the outlines of Neteyam's skin, the concern in your eyes, and the unwavering support you offered—it all but intensified his misplaced fury. The sight of your closeness with this outsider feels like a knife twisting in his heart, fueling his anger and pushing him to the brink of it all.

Driven by a whirlwind of emotions, Tserat lunged toward you both with a roar of anger. But before he could reach you, a commanding voice cut through the air like a thunderclap, halting him in his tracks.

"Ftang!"

As you turn around, you see your mother landing with a mighty thump, her ikran letting out a shrill, piercing cry. The elderly chief dismounted and approached your group with a stony expression, her fur coat still adorned with remnants of snow.

With every step, your mother shed away her usual warm and caring persona as Iumayi and slipped into the familiar face of Olo'eyktan. Ruthless, cold, Olo'eyktan.

"Why are you here, boy?" she hissed, her icy gaze remaining fixed on Tserat. He looked away, clearly disgruntled and tense under the weight of her scrutiny. ”You disobeyed direct orders! You are supposed to be on patrol! Instead, I see you stirring up a fight!"

Amidst her tirade, your mother's gaze locked onto yours. Her stern expression softened momentarily as Neteyam rushed to help you up, his touch tenderly tracing the outlines of your bruises. The sight of her child in distress stirred her maternal instincts, but she swiftly composed herself, tearing her gaze away from the display of care between you and Neteyam, refocusing on the matter at hand.

"Olo'eykte," Tserat gritted his teeth, his words now flowing in the Iuva'rian dialect, knowing that Neteyam couldn't understand it, "Can you not see this mockery of a union? Y/N was promised to me."

"It doesn't matter what you believe was promised," your mother stated resolutely, switching her language to match his. "Eywa did not will for your union to happen. The Great Mother guides us all, and sometimes our paths lead us in different directions."

As his ears pinned back, a hint of vulnerability flashed in Tserat's eyes. Frustration, resentment, and envy tangled together, gnawing at his heart.

The memory of your father's vision surged in his mind, a painful reminder of what could have been. He recalled how the Olo'eykte had approached him, believing it was he who was in the vision. "A mighty warrior, fierce and protective of his people," she had said, her eyes ablaze with belief in his destiny.

With those words echoing in his ears, Tserat had undergone rigorous training, honing his skills and preparing himself for the role he believed was his birthright. But all of that changed when the Sullys arrived. With Neteyam's emergence as Toruk Makto's son, everything shifted.

The vision, once meant for Tserat, was now directed toward Neteyam, a forest dweller with no ancestral ties to the clan. The mantle of leadership, which he had longed for and devoted himself to, was abruptly snatched away, as if it had never truly been within his grasp.

"Everything is changing," Tserat spat out, hurt etched across his features. "This family brings destruction and war wherever they go. What's to say they won't bring it here?"

"This warrior," Tserat turned to look at Neteyam, his expression brimming with disdain."—does not even know how to breathe our air properly. And you want him to lead us?"

"This is not the time or place for a challenge," Iumayi scorns. "If you believe yourself more worthy to lead, you will have your opportunity to prove it in a ritual battle after he completes the coming of age ceremony."

Tserat ran his tongue over his lips, his emotions carefully hidden behind a neutral mask. With a sigh, he averted his gaze, locking onto the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the chief.

The tension in the air was palpable as the confrontation reached its conclusion. Tserat eventually turned and left, his departure marked by one last glowering look directed Neteyam's way.

Neteyam, still holding you close, sensed the lingering unease and decided it was best to move away from the scene. With one arm wrapped protectively around you, he bid a goodbye to your mother and led you toward Seze.

The Omatikayan carefully lifted you up and secured you onto her back, ensuring your safety as he climbed on behind you.

"Irayo," you whisper. Neteyam's strong arms encircled you, and you leaned back, resting against him

"Kea tìkin," Neteyam hums.

Neteyam had led you to a secluded green clearing hidden deep in the heart of the valley. The tall, ancient trees stood as protective guardians, shielding you both from the prying eyes of the outside world. The rustling leaves and the distant songs of wind created a calming atmosphere, offering a private haven for you and Neteyam to grapple with the emotions that had been swirling between you.

Approaching the dense thicket of trees that hovered over the peak, your steps faltered when Neteyam's rough fingers wrapped around your elbow, gently pulling you back. His hand then rested softly on your hip, thumb tracing soothing circles on your striped skin.

The weight of moodiness still clung to you like a stubborn fog, but his touch and tender words began to penetrate that cloud, slowly lifting the veil of uncertainty that had settled.

"What's wrong? Talk to me, baby," Neteyam murmured, the foreign English endearment slipping off his accented tongue as smooth as the cascading waters of a tranquil stream.

Despite his plea, your lips were sealed shut, teeth biting down on the plump flesh, eyes refusing to look away from the blooming purple bruises on your skin. Faintly, you felt a burning sensation building up on your waterline, an all-too-familiar sign of tears threatening to spill over. It was an emotion you had long tried to suppress over the years, but the events of the day had taken their toll on your strength.

"Sweet girl," Neteyam soothed, his thumb pressing onto your lips and gently easing it away from your fangs. He then reached out to brush a reassuring hand against your cheek, guiding your watery gaze to meet his. The sight of your unshed tears pierced through him like a spear, striking a chord deep within his heart.

"Tserat is a fool," you drew in a shaky breath, the frustration evident in your voice. "Stubborn. Resistant to change!"

"I saw," he acknowledged with a low chuckle, but his expression softened with understanding. "People like him hold on to old ways out of fear. But change is the natural course of life. Do not worry, they will come to understand soon. Give them time."

Neteyam then paused, his eyes taking you in, a rugged hand running up your back in a comforting gesture. The forest around you seemed to grow quieter. "You two seemed to know each other…"

You nodded, a mix of emotions welling up inside you as memories of the past flooded back. "Yes," you replied, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "We were once very close. Me and him were promised."

"Oh," Neteyam breathed out, his voice tinged with a deep, rich green envy that simmered just below the surface. The intensity in his eyes blazed, and a hint of possessiveness seeped into his tone.

His hand on your waist tightened slightly, drawing you closer to him, and you willingly leaned into his embrace, finding comfort in his protective hold.

The lithe form of his tail swished from side to side, revealing the restlessness he felt, while his eyes remained fixed on yours, guarded yet filled with a yearning for understanding. You could tell the man before you bled with questions, but he was treading carefully, respectful of your boundaries and not wanting to intrude.

It was something you had noticed over the past few months spent together. Neteyam, a warrior at heart, was skilled at concealing his emotions. He had a way of pushing down his feelings, riding out pain - both emotional and physical with a stoic determination until they dissipated. His strength and resilience were admirable, and you respected his ability to handle difficult situations without faltering.

But as the days turned into weeks and then months, a part of you longed to see more of his vulnerability, to understand the layers beneath his tough exterior. You wanted to know the man beyond the warrior, the man behind the title of future Olo'eyktan, the person he was when he let his guard down.

In moments of quiet intimacy like this, you caught glimpses of tenderness in him, emotions he carefully kept in check. It made you feel that you were so close to understanding him on a deeper level, yet there was still a distance that kept you from fully unraveling the complexities of his heart.

"I said once," you reiterated gently, wanting him to know that the past was merely a stepping stone that led you to him. "I did not go through with the ceremony."

His grip on your waist softened, and he pulled you even closer, intertwining his fingers with yours. It felt as if the world around you had melted away, leaving just the two of you in that secluded green clearing.

"Why did you not?" Neteyam's question hung in the air like a delicate thread, his voice barely above a whisper, brimming with vulnerability.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the topic of conversation causing your heart to race. The freckles upon his nose and forehead caught the golden rays of the setting sun, making him look even more mesmerizing as his eyes languidly traced your face.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you found the strength to answer honestly. "I did not want him," you stated firmly, making it clear that your heart had never truly belonged to Tserat.

Ears pulled flat back, he stepped closer and found his hand reaching out to take a hold of his your hip. His gaze was dark, untamed like the forest as flickers of emotion flashed across the specs of gold, brown and green in his eyes. The tension between you and him thickened, fueled by a potent mix of jealousy, desire, and the simmering anger from the confrontation.

"And who do you want?" Neteyam's voice was a husky murmur, tinged with longing. He searched your eyes for an answer, almost as if he feared what would come out of your lips.

And you knew that this was the moment of truth, where your confession could either bring you closer or drive you apart.

In the past few months, both of you had danced around the touches of affection, tiptoeing around the unspoken feelings that had quietly but intensely grown between you. On the surface, it seemed as if you were merely fulfilling your duties, following the paths arranged for you. But beneath it all, there was something deeper, a bond that had become undeniable.

Standing before Neteyam, you could feel the tremor in his touch, the unspoken fear of rejection. But there was also a glimmer of hope shimmering in those golden pools, a belief that maybe, just maybe, you would choose him.

Without skipping a beat, you looked up into his eyes, your own gaze unwavering. "You."

"I want you, Neteyam."

Neteyam felt his heart leap to his throat at your words, desire chipping away at was left of the walls he had built up. His grip on you tightened and he looked into your eyes, seeking permission for what he was about to do, gaze gliding down to your lips.

Without words, you both knew what you wanted, what you needed. You understood the unspoken plea in his eyes and nodded, granting him permission to close the distance between you.

Neteyam's hand moved from your hip to your lower back, pulling you closer as he drew you into a deep kiss. Your fingers threaded through his dark hair, and you felt the roughness of his braids against your skin. The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of earthy warmth and a hint of something uniquely him.

"I want you too," he breathed out against your lips, attempting to pull you even closer, molding his body onto yours. "More than anything."

Minutes pass and the intensity of your passionate kiss gradually subsided. Finally, you both drew away, finding yourselves breathless yet exhilarated. The rush of emotions still coursed through your veins, leaving you both trembling with the weight of the moment.

Neteyam's forehead pressed against yours, his warm breath mingling with yours as you gazed into each other's eyes, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

"I see you," you finally gasped out, your voice hitching. Those three simple words carried the weight of all your feelings, a declaration of your understanding and acceptance of him, flaws and all.

Neteyam froze, his breath catching in his throat. The exhale from his lips was entirely broken, as if you had stolen his last remaining breath from his lungs. Slowly, he found himself giving in to the overwhelming rush of emotions, the walls he had built over years finally falling down in ruins.

"I see you," Neteyam returned, accent thick, voice breathless and guttural. He leaned in to kiss you once more, sealing his emotions with the tender touch of his lips against yours. Those three words were repeated over and over against your lips, a desperate show of his affections.

Neteyam bared everything he had inside, his deepest desires, fears, and dreams, pouring his heart before you like a crimson offering as he hoped beyond hope that you would handle it with the utmost care.

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

the relationship is established! now its time to plan on how to destroy it. /hj

TAGLIST: @rainbowsocks @milktealvrr @strawberri-blonde @dark-mark @v4mp1rr3 @xylianasblog @piceous21 @celi-xxmoon @corpsebridenightamare @ducks118 @xylianasblog @bluealiensimp @tyongluvs @theyoungeagle @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @nerdfacesposts @isnt-itstrange @smile-skxawng @eywas-heir @mochiivqi @wavesarchive @wavesarchive @simpforramenboy @crazy4books @jamie-poopoo @gg-trini @dollyplayhouse @couragemydearheart @lynbubble @pinkpantheris @northsoulss @queer-griffin @lexasaurs634 @melllinaa @maki-z @crazyforteyam @rose-brulante @ladylokilaufeyson5 @lunarangelxo @rexorangecouny @thepineapplesimp @moneyoverl0v3

If you can't see your blog, that means I could tag you! :( Also, if any new people want to be tagged - please send me an ask in my inbox or reblog instead! Bc sometimes I can't see the comments ^^

[byunpum]

Safe heaven

Pair: Neteyam x Human!reader (sully family, others na'vi)

Warning: Neytiri being a bit(a lot) controlling, forced pairing, cozy moments, comfort moments, All characters are adults.

Note: I had this draft half done, and decided to finish it today. Let's see what you think, I left it open ended. If it's received good feedback I'll continue…it's a short story. But how did you find it so far?

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Ko-fi

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4[final]

Returning to the Omaticaya clan, where Neytiri was born, grew up and raised her children, was the best thing she could have done. After the confrontation with the RDA, things seemed to calm down. After a year of living in the Metkayina clan, the Sullys returned to their clan in the jungle. They were accepted immediately and things seemed to be running smoothly. But lately something was making neytiri anxious, and it was the future of her children. Tuk and kiri were still very young, they were just starting to live, lo'ak was still in training, he was not far away from becoming a man. But neteyam was already a man, he was at the perfect age to find a mate and make a family of his own. And neytiri was going to handle this. She wanted neteyam to make a good choice, neteyam was next in line to be Olo'eyktan. As the son of toruk makto, that was a position he had to take, and he had to have a good partner by his side. The mate neteyam chose also chose the position he wanted to belong to, and neytiri wanted him to have the best place in this clan.

Neytiri was given the task of introducing them to the best women in the clan, and with the best references. Many girls were after neteyam and she knew it…she had heard how the girls talked about how amazing and handsome her son was, but neytiri had to find the girl she found perfect. But whenever she introduced a new girl to neteyam he would just say hello…talk to her for a few minutes and that was it. He showed no interest in them, it was as if another ordinary clan member was talking to him. But this did not stop neytiri, that was until she met Lekka. She was a majestic na'vi, she was very beautiful. Not to mention how skilled she was at hunting, a true warrior. Neytiri thought that this girl would be the perfect match for her eldest son, besides the girl had told him that she was very attracted to neteyam and that she was interested in him. So neytiri took this sign as a good opportunity to introduce them both to each other.

Today was a hunting party, neteyam with the Na'vi hunting party had a good day. The hunt had been a success, and they were having a small celebration in the clan, just outside the hallelujah caves. A nice hidden place and perfect for carrying on the omaticaya traditions. The whole clan was there, including some humans. Of course, the Omaticaya clan already had to coexist with the good humans, who had helped them fight this battle between species. The laughter, the dancing filled the atmosphere with peacefulness…neteyam was with his group of friends, moving away for a moment to get a drink. It wasn't until he bumped into his mother. -"Neteyam I glad you're here," said neytiri, next to her was this girl, lekka. Neteyam had to admit she was very pretty. But… he wasn't impressed. -"Hi mom…" neteyam speaks nervously, he already knew where his mother was coming from. It wasn't the first time she introduced him to a na'vi girl. Neytiri laughs a little, taking the girl's arm to bring her closer to Neteyam. - "May I introduce you to lekka, she is the daughter of telup" speaks neytiri. Neteyam makes the 'I see you' sign waving to the girl.

Neteyam could see how nervous the woman was, she was shaking a little bit. And she was looking down, he felt a little sorry for these girls. Her mother always put them in this embarrassing situation. -"Nice to meet you… it's a pleasure. My name is neteyam" neteyam speaks. -"Yes… I've heard a lot about you," says Lekka with a trembling voice. Neytiri apologizes to the couple of guys, telling them that she was going to go get more food, but it was a pretend to leave them alone. According to her everything was going as she had planned. Neytiri proudly approaches the group that was waiting for her and watching from afar. Mo'at, Tsu'tey, Jake were looking at her walking towards them, with a big smile on her face. Neytiri approaches and sits down next to Jake. -"And what do you do now?" asks Mo'at, the woman didn't have to look at her daughter to know that she had done something. -"Me? nothing…the essentials," says neytiri, she is proud of her work, she has just introduced an amazing girl to her son.

"You know that's not going to work, right?" says mo'at. Listening as neytiri chokes a little on her drink. "Mother what are you talking about, of course I do" says neytiri, looking to jake for support. But he just shifts his gaze, trying not to be included in the conversation. On the other hand tsu'tey looks curiously at the two women. "You're trying to get neteyam together with that girl…you can tell he doesn't like her. Besides…this trying to get together never works, look at you," says mo'at. Now it was jake's turn to choke, but from laughter. He knew mo'at was referring to how he and neytiri met. Meanwhile tsu'tey made a groan of annoyance and leaned back on the log behind him. - "I witnessed that, and I agree with mo'at" complains tsu'tey watching as jake continues to laugh.

"Hey…but this is different. Neteyam is different, I know what I'm doing" says neytiri, sitting up more in her seat. She was getting upset, no one in her family understood her. But she wanted neteyam to make the right choice and take her rightful place again. "Love…I know why you're doing this, but it's not necessary. Neteyam will eventually find a girl he likes, you should leave him alone" jake says, but he can see how neytiri is looking at him with a pout. Grimacing for him to keep quiet, jake just laughs a little and keeps drinking. he knew neytiri was stubborn and didn't care what anyone else thought, she was going to do it. Jake watches as neteyam is talking to the girl. You could see how uncomfortable he was, fidgeting a little. His tail was curled up at his heels and he glanced at the group of friends from time to time. - "He looks very nervous," says tsu'tey, he was also looking at the boy. - "Why is he…neytiri" speaks mo'at, looking at his daughter. Neytiri rolls her eyes, and now looks at her son. She clearly noticed how uncomfortable the boy was, but she supposed it was normal. He had never talked to that girl before, he might be nervous because of how cute she was. -"They look good together," says Neytiri. - "Yes they look good…but he doesn't look good" jake grimaces, the interaction his oldest son was now having with that girl was horrible.

"Mo'at?" y/n taps the woman's shoulder, getting her attention. - "Oh, what's wrong?" says mo'at, turning to look at you. All the group's attention was now on you. -"I'm going to go rest, I've finished doing the chores you told me to do," you say, laughing a little.

You had been one of the human children born here in Pandora, just like Spider. And it was normal for you to have interacted with the na'vi from an early age… but while spider preferred to be playing with the sully children, you preferred to go look for fun elsewhere. And that's where you met mo'at, the woman noticed how every day you would go to her hut and watch her in awe as she worked. Or when she was doing her daily chores, you always followed her. She never complained about you, you were quiet and calm, so your presence pleased her. One day mo'at invited you to approach her, and that's when you started asking questions. Which surprised mo'at, you were a very intelligent child, for such a young age. Something told mo'at that she had to help you, and accept you. So she dedicated herself to become your guardian…she would teach you, take care of you and make you join the clan. She would never be your mother, but she would care for you like one.

"Oh thanks, I'll look at the results later" says mo'at, stroking your hand a little. -"Hey, why don't you stay a bit to celebrate… kiri is over there," says jake, waiting for you to accept. You had grown up with his children, you were practically a daughter to him. For some reason, neytiri had no problem with you when you were around his children, she thought you were good. But only that. -"mmm no thanks, I want to go rest" you apologize, and say goodbye to everyone. Starting your way to the lab. -" She has helped you a lot, hasn't she?" speaks tsu'tey, looking at mo'at. The woman was still looking at you from afar, with a proud look. - "You know…she has a great future. She's smart and a quick learner," mo'at says. -And not only in the medical field…in technology she is amazing, you have to see how she helps norm, she is very smart" says jake. Everyone is silent for a moment. -"Besides…she's a very sweet girl, she's good" says mo'at while he continues eating. Neytiri doesn't say anything, she just listens curiously and then turns all her attention to her son neteyam. When she looked, she saw that the boy was no longer there. Instead there was a lekka alone, waiting for the boy to return. Neytiri stood up quickly, approaching the girl. "Where is neteyam?" asked Neytiri, looking around to see if she could find her son. -"I don't know…he said he was going to look for something, and he hasn't come back," says Lekka. Neytiri was going crazy, she didn't know what she was going to do with that boy.

After talking to mo'at, you decided to go to your favorite place. You knew you had told mo'at you were going to rest, but you didn't dare tell her where you were really going to go or do. Walking secretly, as you went deeper into the jungle, you thanked Pandora's nature for being so bright. It was a spectacle for your eyes, walking faster to get to your secret place. Not far away, about 20 minutes walk, there was a crashed plane. You were sure that it was from the first war that the RDA had with the clan, because it was very deteriorated, and the first time you had found it you had to clean some skeletons that were still inside. After a while this had become your secret place. You reached the entrance of the plane, opening it carefully… pushing open a door you had made out of metal. Entering and pointing at it as you closed the door. Approaching a machine you had created not long ago, stretching the rope so that it would turn on and start doing its job, oxygenating the area. This machine allowed the air around it to be clean and safe for you to breathe, at least 10 feet away. The plane had some closed areas, so that the good oxygen didn't get out, but still the pandora's air came in. But still, it was safe for you.

This was the best thing you did…invent. As Norm used to say, you were a little box of surprises, always inventing things and improving others. Since you were little you had been like that, your head was full of ideas and this hideout was the representation of that. Although it didn't have the best structure and your goal was to sign it completely, you were still working on it. Taking off your oxygen mask, placing it on the wall. To start getting more comfortable, he had to be here before long. Or so you thought, looking out the broken window a little. Not getting too close, without leaving your safe zone. You see that no one is around. You sit down near a small table you had down at night, starting to work on the new oxygen mask prototype you were making. You were so busy, you didn't hear the first knocking on the front door. Knock, knock, knock… the knocking got louder and you panicked. Keeping silent, and turning off the lights you had on.

Carefully approaching the door, to see who it was. -"Hey…baby it's me" you hear his voice, and smile a little relieved that it was him. You turn on all the lights and open the door quickly, meeting the boy. Neteyam was at the entrance, looking around, making sure no one was watching him. -"Hey get in quick…the air is getting thinner," you say, taking his hand and pushing him into the plane. Neteyam laughs as he enters carefully, lowering his head as he passes through the door. As soon as he enters, he can feel you wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him in a soft kiss. Giggling against your lips, as he holds you around the waist. Sitting carelessly on the floor. - "Y/N…love" neteyam was laughing, as you pull away caressing his face. Arranging his hair, looking at him carefully, studying his mood. He looked somewhat exhausted and overwhelmed…something seemed to be bothering him. -Are you upset?" you ask, watching as Neteyam lays his head on your chest.

He was sitting on the floor and you were standing between his legs. This allowed a perfect height for him to lie on top of you. -"I am… but it's not you," says Neteyam, as you hug his head closer to your chest. - "Well…anytime you want to talk about it, I'm here," you say. He closes his eyes for a moment, then pulls away from you. "hey, take this," neteyam pulls out of his small pouch, a piece of food that he had wrapped in a leaf. -I saw that you left quickly…you haven't eaten anything," says Neteyam, watching as you take the piece of food and walk away from him, sitting down right in front of him. "Mmmm yeah…I was going to eat with you, but…you looked busy" you open the leaf, but neteyam could see your raised eyebrows. -"Oh, that…this is lekka…you know how my mom is about introducing me to girls" says neteyam, taking your foot in his hands to start massaging it. He didn't want you to bother with him, he wasn't to blame.

"mmm she's very beautiful, I've heard how good she is" you speak, taking a bite of the meat. Now looking up to see neteyam, he was looking at you with a soft smile on his lips. His little eyes are sparkling, as if he is looking at the most beautiful thing in this universe. -"But she's not as beautiful as you…you know that," says neteyam, watching you grimace. Trying not to laugh or choke. Neteyam reaches out his hand, to wipe some sauce from your lips. - "I'm serious… you are so beautiful in my eyes" says the boy, leaving you speechless. He always left you speechless.

You two had grown up together, although you preferred to be with mo'at. You also went to play with spider and the sully boys. Even when you were growing up you preferred to be with neteyam, nothing ever happened. You were just good friends, it wasn't until neteyam had to leave the clan that you noticed that your feelings for him were much greater. Just like neteyam, you promised each other that you would see each other again. And so he kept it, when he returned to the clan the first person neteyam went to look for was you. From then on you had not separated, starting this relationship on the quiet. You used to meet here on the plane, and only here you could be together. Outside you were just good friends…but here is your secret hiding place, you were yourselves. This situation was time consuming, and sometimes it could be exhausting for the two of you.

After eating, and making jokes about hunting neteyam. You both decided to lie down and talk for a while. Neteyam was leaning back in a rather large chair in the plane. While you were lying between his legs, with your back against his chest. Netayam was holding your hand, playing with your fingers, looking at how strange and beautiful they were at the same time. - "Hey…did you notice that now the walls of the plane are sitting more" you speak, listening as Netayam answers you with a 'hmm'. - "I won't close all the windows though, so you can still get your air in and be comfortable in here" you speak. - "you're great baby… I don't know how you have all these ideas" says neteyam, kissing your hair. "I don't know, it's just natural" you laugh, feeling Neteyam wrap his arms around your torso. To pull you closer to him, kissing your shoulder. Lately you had been wearing the na'vi outfit that kiri had given you, and neteyam loved it. He could feel you better this way, without the horrible human clothes you used to wear.

"Baby… how about if you stay to sleep with me here…today?" asks neteyam, you can feel how his tail gives you some taps on your feet. He felt nervous about your answer, it wasn't the first time neteyam proposed this to you, but you always denied it. Saying that norm was waiting for you in the lab. It was partly true, but not that much. -"Mmm I'm not sure" you start to speak, but neteyam interrupts you. -"It would only be today… I don't want to leave you" neteyam hugs you more tightly. Norm wasn't necessarily expecting you, but you knew he was going to ask a lot of questions the next day. Just like neteyam, he knew what he was expecting and even more so coming from his mother. But he didn't really care, he wanted to rest with you, to spend more time with you.

You think about it for a moment… it would be fine if you stayed here. This place was perfectly equipped, besides… you also wanted to stay with him like this. - "Well… it's okay. But we have to get up early, ok" you look up, seeing how neteyam was giving you a big smile. In one swift movement neteyam, grabs you by the waist and lifts you up to get on top of you. You were all giggles, feeling him start to kiss your neck, and chest. "I'm at your service sweetheart" neteyam says excitedly, lying on top of you letting his head rest on your breasts. Breathing deeply of your scent, wrapping his arms all over your body. Sometimes he could forget that he was almost twice your size, and that lately he had grown muscularly. -"You're crushing me," you tease, feeling him release you. -"I'm sorry" he laughs, kissing your lips one last time before settling back. You were his safe haven in this world.

In the hut…

"Hey, have you seen neteyam?" neytiri asks jake. They had gone to sleep very late, noticing that they had never seen neteyam return. Neteyam was still with them in the family hut, although he could go and do whatever he wanted. Noticing that all the kids had arrived but him. "No, maybe he went off to do something else, or he's with someone else," said Jake, not really paying attention to what he said, he was too busy sharpening his knives. But this made neytiri even more curious and she started to think. Maybe neteyame saw lekka again, and she told neytiri that she hadn't seen him so she wouldn't be embarrassed. Or was neteyam with another girl? Or he was getting tired. Neytiri didn't want to look like a stalker mother, but she had to know what was going on in her eldest son's head.

P.S What do you think of this story? I would like to know what you think. <3

[tallulah477]

Hunting the Tawtute

Kinktober Day 19: Threesome

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader x Lo’ak

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Neteyam, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Primal Kink (Hunter/Prey Kink), Oral (female receiving and male receiving), P in V, Fingering, Handjob, Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Alien Genitalia, Slight Knife Play, Multiple Orgasms, Bukkake, Hair Pulling, Slight Humiliation, Slight Thigh Riding, Knots/Knot Play (but no actual knotting), Marking Kink/Biting

Word Count: 5.4K (of pure self-indulgent fantasy)

A/N: I don’t even know what to say about this. This one kinda like so fucking much got away from me. It’s like I went crazy, blacked out, and this happened. Hopefully some of you guys will like it too as much as I liked writing it.

Summary: When the Omatikaya raid an RDA outpost, you just barely escape the carnage with your life. You're stumbling through the forest when they find you, and the dark grins on their faces make shivers run down your spine. You try to run, but they’ll catch you - they’re little beautiful prey. 

Extra: Pretty, But Not Stupid

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Tawtute -  Human

Mountain Banshee - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Sevin - Pretty

Vrrtep - Demon

Paskalin - Sweet Berry (term of endearment)

The ground is shaking underneath you as you run, booming with the force of the explosions and gunfire racking the now nonexistent RDA outpost. You can still hear the screaming, both war cries and cries of terror, echoing through the forest as your tired legs carry you further and further away. 

You’re gasping for breath, heart feeling like it's going to pound out of your chest as you sob. You hated the RDA, they were mostly all power hungry assholes anyway, but some people in the outpost were good - innocent people who fled Earth just to get away from the horror there, only to be met with a fate possibly crueler here. All the cooks, cleaners, and medical professionals who just wanted a chance - all dead within minutes of the start of the emergency alarm that blared through the base. If not by the explosions, then currently being picked off without mercy by the Na’vi. 

You’re lucky to even be alive right now. 

You shake your head, trying to ignore how your heavy, panicked breathing is fogging up your mask and how you can barely see through your tears. You need to keep going. You can’t think about it now. Can’t think about the carnage you're running from and the people you’re leaving behind. You need to find safety. 

You run a little further, trying not to trip on any more upturned roots. You fell over one a little ways back, and your ankle protests the more weight you put on it, but the fear of being found and killed keeps you going. You quickly round another tree and stop, bracing your hand on the bark of the massive trunk and lifting your hurt ankle up a bit just to relieve the pressure for a moment. Your eyes hurriedly scan the area, trying to keep an eye out for danger you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself against. Even if you did have some kind of a weapon (which you don’t, you barely had enough time to sprint away with your life as it was, let alone grab any kind of form of defense), you wouldn’t be able to win against the strength and prowess of one of the natives anyway.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips when your eye catches movement a few trees down from you. There’s a male Na’vi standing there, long braids still swinging around his shoulders from his abrupt movement, and he has an arrow notched and pulled back, strong muscles and chest bulging behind the bow as he steadies the arrow - the arrow that’s pointed directly at you. 

“Wait!” You yell, hands instinctively coming up to protect your face as if they could ever stop the Na’vi sized arrow. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot!”

The male stops, curious amber eyes locked on your trembling figure, and to your complete shock, he lowers the arrow. Why isn’t he killing you? The Na’vi kill humans on sight, they don’t hesitate. You should have been dead the second he saw you. But you’re not. He lowered his arrow, and for a brief moment relief and hope flood your chest. 

“I mean you no harm,” You call, voice shaking. “Please, don’t k-kill me,”

The male tilts his head at you and you watch cautiously as he puts his bow away, reattaching it to his back, before reaching up to touch his throat. From this distance you can just see the outline of a necklace. A throat comm, you think. He has his fingers pressed against the buttons and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but you see his lips moving as he talks to whoever is on the other line. 

A dark smirk curls at his lips as he speaks. He’s looking directly at you and whatever hope you had disappears as dread fills your entire being. 

You are going to die. 

You can’t stay here, staying still even as he’s watching you is a risk. If you’re going to die, you’re at least going to go down trying to live. 

You turn to run, making it just a few steps away from the tree before the canopy bursts above you, a roaring shriek piercing your ears as a large blue and purple mountain banshee descends down towards the forest floor. You scream, falling back on your ass as the dragon-like animal lands just feet from you, the wind from its strong wings beating over your body and making your hair whip around your face.

The banshee’s rider descends from its back, landing on the ground with a thud and disconnecting his neural queue from the animal. He stalks towards you, golden eyes gleaming behind a few loose braids falling in front of them, and he grins, long pointed canines biting into his bottom lip.

“Where you running to, sevin tawtute?”

With another terrified sob, you scramble to your feet. The second Na’vi’s low chuckle, despite being fairly quiet, rings loudly in your ears, and you can hear the footsteps of the first’s getting closer and closer to you each second. 

“Don’t do it,” The second warns, and you don’t even have the mental capacity to realize that he’s speaking to you in English. You’re already spinning and darting away in the opposite direction. 

You run as fast as you can through the dense Pandorian forest. They’re chasing you, you can hear their footsteps pounding against the forest floor behind you. They mock you, first just making quick yipping and whooping calls, communicating with each other in a way you would never even begin to understand. And then they switch to your language.

“Better run faster, human!”

“Getting tired already, baby?”

“Can you feel my breath on the back of your pretty neck?”

“We’re going to get you!”

Your sobs get louder, terrified as you try to push yourself harder. They sound so close, like they’re right behind you, like they could just reach out and grab you. But they don’t. They’re playing with you. They’re faster than you, their legs significantly longer than yours and more adept at running and navigating the forest terrain. They’re letting you keep going on purpose, finding glee in your terror and enjoyment in chasing their prey. 

Your ankle is aching, pain shooting from the twisted limb, and your running is quickly turning into panicked hobbling. You can’t do it anymore. Can’t do it - they’re going to get you. Without thinking, you dive under a slightly uprooted tree - the tilt of the base giving you just enough room to crawl under the trunk, thick roots caging you in and separating you from the two male Na’vi. 

The second you make it through, there’s a burst of movement as the long haired male slides in front of the opening, long arm sticking through the roots and reaching for you. You whimper when his fingers brush your mask and you try to scoot yourself further back against the dirt, but there isn’t much room. 

“Come out of there,” He says, voice soft like he’s trying to coax you out, but the underlining reverb of a growl taints the attempt. “It’s dangerous under there,”

“Yes, tawtute,” The other says, long legs visible from behind his brother’s upper body. “Much safer out here with us,”

You can’t help the anger and frustration that wells inside you as you hear the absolute lie they are trying to tell you. 

“Bullshit,” You spit.

The long haired male removes his reaching arm and peers at you through the roots, eyes alight with mirth. “Oh, you hear that, brother? Our little vrrtep has a mouth on her,”

The other male chuckles and squats down to peer at you through your self imposed cage. “And what a pretty mouth it is. Can’t wait to see what else it can do,”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. That sounded . . . suggestive. That couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like, right?

“What do you say, sevin? Want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?” He asks, playful fingers lifting up the front of his loincloth slightly as if to tease you. And then, suddenly, there’s a new fear taking over. 

They don’t want to catch you to kill you - they want you. 

“My name is Lo’ak,” He continues, lifting his hand from his loincloth to wiggle his fingers at you in greeting. Five fingers, you notice. “You know, just so you know what to scream out later when I’m fucking you,”

More tears well up in your eyes, cascading down your flushed cheeks. “P-please. Don’t hurt m-me,” You beg, wide eyes pleading with the large blue men holding you hostage to show you mercy. “I’ll leave! I promise! You’ll never see me again,”

“She begs so beautifully already,” The other male says, nudging his brother’s arm. “She’s gonna sound so good when she’s crying in pleasure. Go ahead and try it out for me, paskalin. Let me hear you say it: Neteyam,”

Neteyam looks at her expectantly, golden green eyes dark from where his pupils have nearly completely taken over. 

“Fuck you,” You hiss. You try to put as much malice and ferocity in your words as you can muster, but Neteyam only grins at your curse.

“Yeah, tawtute. That’s the idea,”

Lo’ak suddenly moves, shifting over to the side of the tree and you panic at the abrupt movement, scrambling over and pressing your back against the roots on the opposite side just to be as far from him as possible. 

“Come on out, baby,” He purrs, eyes hooded as he stares at you. “Don’t you want to take a ride? Feel some big alien cock in your pretty, tiny pussy?”

You open your mouth again to shoot some more choice expletives at him, but all that comes out is a scream when the roots behind you rip and a large hand grips at your hair, dragging your body from its hiding spot and into the dimming light of the forest.

Neteyam hauls you up on your feet, fist tangled in your hair keeping you from running and grabs one of your swinging arms, pinning it behind your back. Lo’ak steps in front of you, tall and imposing at nearly twice your height, but you still try to fight, fight for your life and your freedom, and your hand smacks as hard as it can against his hip.

It doesn’t do anything to him obviously, you’re not even sure if he felt it, but all the fight leaves you in an instant when the large knife the size of your forearm waves in your face.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for us now, okay?” He says, tapping the glass of your mask with the tip of his knife as if he were trying to boop your nose. The tip of the knife travels down your neck, over your collarbone, and towards the center of your chest. If you were able to think correctly, you would be amazed at the control he has over the blade to not let it cut you despite your chest heaving with your frantic breathing. “Stay still now,”

The knife travels towards the valley between your breasts, taking the neck of your t-shirt with it and pulling it down and down until Lo’ak just cleanly slices through the whole front of it. Neteyam releases your arm now that you're not fighting against them anymore, but still keeps a firm grip on your hair. The ruined shirt slips from your shoulders and Lo’ak brings the knife back up to hook underneath the band of your bra, slicing through the material like it was paper and pushing the remnants of that off of your body as well. 

“Such a pretty little thing,” He muses, running the flat of the blade across one of your exposed breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as it presses against your heated skin. Lo’ak twists the knife and places the very tip of it at your nipple. The sharp edge makes you gasp, the bud starting to harden immediately at the feeling and you can’t help but feel mortified when you feel wetness pool in your panties. 

Lo’ak’s nose twitches, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as his large amber eyes catch yours, but it’s Neteyam that digs the metaphorical knife deeper, furthering your humiliation and making your face burn.

“Aw, is the cute little tawtute getting wet for us? We can smell you,” Neteyam laughs, dragging your head back further so he can get a good look at your face. “Look, brother. Look how flushed she’s getting,”

“You think that flush is going all the way down here?” Lo’ak asks, the tip of the knife leaving your nipple to tease your clit over your shorts.

“Rip them off and find out,” Neteyam suggests, and you start to wriggle again in his unrelenting grasp. 

“Wait!” You shout. Your neck is still craned up towards the sky, so you only feel rather than see Lo’ak undo your button and zipper. “Wait, please. I’ll do anything,”

“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, looking down at your pleading face. His fingers latch onto one of your hard nipples and pulls on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from your plump lips. “You will,”

In an instant, Lo’ak yanks your shorts and panties down and Neteyam moves behind you to kneel on the forest floor, one knee pressing into the ground while the other acts as a stabilizer, foot flat against the ground. Neteyam’s grip on your hair is released as he grabs you by your hips instead, pulling you up to sit on his thigh, bare pussy pressing against the bulging muscles. 

The feeling of his muscles tensing under you makes more heat pool in your stomach, and your pussy is wet and sticky already as you squirm against him. Your legs fall on either side of his and even with him kneeling your feet still can’t touch the ground, toes just barely brush against the grass and only if you’re actually stretching to reach it. But the additional stretch just makes you push your cunt harder against his thigh and you whimper, not knowing what to do or how to move.

Neteyam wraps a restraining arm around your chest, trapping one of your arms under his and grabbing onto your other bicep, his large hand practically spanning the entirety of your upper arm and pinning it down. His other hand moves up to his mouth, long middle finger sliding between his lips, licking the long digit and pulling it out when it’s wet and glistening in the setting sunlight. He brings his wet finger to your core, dipping it between your folds and circling your clit. 

“So wet already, tawtute,” He whispers, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.

You whimper as he rubs you, dipping his finger down lower to gather more of your wetness and dragging it back up to tease small circles around your pulsing nub. When his fingers trail down again, it's to press at your entrance, and you can’t help the whiny moan that escapes you as his finger slips easily inside your leaking hole.

Lo’ak’s been watching you this whole time, crouching down to get a good, clear look at your glistening pink cunt, and the sight of his brother’s finger sliding inside of you prompts him to have some fun of his own. He stands, fingers moving quickly to untie his loincloth, the material loosening and sliding down his legs, flittering to the ground below him.  

You’re distracted, Neteyam’s finger is rubbing against your gummy walls, sliding in and out effortlessly while his thumb plays with your clit, so you don’t realize what’s so wrong with Lo’ak’s body until he’s directly in front of you - naked pelvis and even more naked center only a foot away from your face. 

Your eyes widen as you look at it, confusion written all over your face as you stare at the empty, flat space where his member should be. Lo’ak laughs at the bewildered look on your face and Neteyam mouths at your shoulder to hide his own grin. 

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Lo’ak says. “I’ve got plenty of cock for you. It’s just hidden. I’ll get it out for you since you're a little tied up.”

His fingers reach down to rub at the empty space and you watch in fascinated awe as he plays down there, fingers pressing in harder and sliding against the hidden slit you hadn’t seen before. His fingers dip inside, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment before they flick back open, sultry hooded orbs locked on your own. 

“What the f–ahh!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut, back arching in pleasure against Neteyam as another of his fingers pushes inside you. They’re long enough on their own, the combined thickness enough to feel like a cock inside you already. 

When your eyes open again, they lock immediately on what’s happening between Lo’ak’s legs. There’s something poking out from the slit and it takes your scared and pleasure hazed brain way too long to realize it’s his cock. It’s just the head peeking out, the mushroomed lavender tip like a bright, slick beacon between his dark blue thighs. He grins when your mouth falls open at the sight, fingers dipping back into his wet slit and pulling out another inch.

Every inch of his cock has your eyes widening, the long and hard length now fully unsheathed and bumping against his belly. Blue skin and even darker stripes litter the shaft, small bioluminescent freckles scatter towards the top and lead to the light purple tip. A fleeting thought has you thinking it's pretty, the colors blending in beautifully with one another, but when you see the textured bumps decorating the entire length, the panic hits you again.

“Let me go!” You scream, fighting against Neteyam’s hold, but hold is firm. “It won’t fit! You can’t! It won’t fit!”

“That’s why we have to stretch you out first,” Neteyam mutters, mouth pressed against your shoulder. His third finger nudges at your entrance and you stop breathing when it pushes against your already stuffed hole. The stretch is intense, your small body struggling to take the invasion as his long finger pushes in beside the others. His thumb rubs lovingly at your clit, distracting you from the stretch and working up the pressure starting to build in your belly. 

Lo’ak strokes at his cock, shuffling forward until the weeping tip of it is inches from your face. 

“You wanna taste it?” He asks, his other hand gripping onto the bottom of your mask. 

You whimper, terrified at the prospect of him pulling your mask off, but can’t get out anything more than a stuttering, “P-please,”

“Be a good girl and hold your breath for me,”

There’s a loud hiss of air as the seal around your face breaks, and then you can’t breathe. Can’t even make a sound when he pulls the mask halfway up your face to free your mouth, letting the bottom of it sit below your nose as he pushes his fingers into the hinges of your jaw to pry your mouth open. 

The lavender tip of his cock pushes between your lips, the underside dragging along your tongue. You can feel every bump and ridge as it pushes in further, the texture both unusual and intimidating as it slides against the warm wet muscle. 

And then it’s gone, your mask replaced and the burst of oxygen rushing into your lungs makes you feel even more lightheaded than without having any oxygen at all.

“Good girl,” Lo’ak coos, hand once again gripping the bottom of your mask and leaning down to press a sweet kiss against its glass. 

Neteyam’s fingers are still working themselves in and out of your stuffed pussy, and you see Lo’ak’s ears twitch a second before you even hear it: the horrible squelching sounds your pussy is making as it rocks against his three fingers.

“Such a good girl,” He grins. He stands up, holding his cock steady and pulling your mask up again, the hiss of air mingling with the wet sounds coming from your drenched cunt. “Let’s go again,”

His cock pushes inside of your mouth again, barbed length sliding against your tongue and nudging the back of your throat. You gag, choking from both lack of oxygen and Lo’ak’s thick cock, and you can barely register the light and strangely sweet taste of his precum as it coats your tastebuds. 

Neteyam’s fingers are ruthless inside of you, curling and dragging against your gummy walls with skilled expertise and his thumb is practically a blur on your clit. When Lo’ak replaces your mask and air once again fills your lungs, it's only there for a second before you’re screaming and gasping, the coil in your stomach almost too much to bear as it tightens, threatening to rip you apart when it snaps.

Your screaming is cut off again when Lo’ak lifts the mask away, shoving his cock harder and deeper into your mouth until the glass of your mask is pressing against his pelvis and his cock has slipped down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take it, legs shaking against Neteyam’s thigh. When it's replaced this time and air is once again allowed into your lungs, Neteyam’s teeth latch onto your shoulder, sharp canines digging into the tender skin. The bite brings about a sharp pain immediately followed by a flood of intense pleasure - your body jerks in his hold, shaking violently as the coil in your belly snaps. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, gushing against his hand as your orgasm rips through you without mercy. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Lo’ak grunts, fisting his cock with one hand while checking to make sure your mask is secure with the other.

You mumble a weak reply, but the words don’t make sense, they don’t even sound like real words to your own ears - and your ‘not words’ turn into a forlorn whine as Neteyam pulls his fingers from your still pulsing pussy. 

He tilts your upper body to the side, sliding most of you off of him except for your leg still draped over his thigh at the knee while your other foot presses onto the ground, leaving you spread wide. His free hand falls behind you, somewhere around his hip where you can’t see, and then something large and round shaped is nudging between your folds and prodding at your entrance.

“No,” You mewl. “Won’t fit,”

“Shh, be quiet, ma sevin tawtute,” He grunts, pressure pushing at your hole as he starts forwards. “It will fit,”

You take in gasping breaths as the pressure intensifies, dripping hole resisting the push as much as it can before relenting to the large male Na’vi’s wishes and the thick mushroom head of his cock pops inside. Neteyam groans when he breaches you, unwrapping his arm from your upper body and gripping both of your thighs with his large hands, hauling you up and in the air as he stands up.

Your back is pressed tightly against his chest, thighs spread open and vulnerable to Lo’ak’s hungry gaze as gravity pushes you down further on his brother’s cock. You whimper loudly, hands desperately gripping at Neteyam’s forearms as he impales you on him. The bumps on his cock drag without mercy against your sensitive walls, and your right leg shakes in his grip from the overwhelming intensity. 

It feels so good, so devastatingly good inside of you, the barbs and ridges sliding just right against your gummy walls and you toss your head back with a silent scream as he bottoms out, tip nudging against your cervix.

You’ve never felt so full before. It feels like he’s all the way in your stomach, cock barreling through your important organs and rearranging your guts just to make enough room for him to fit. You chance a look down, letting out a wailing cry that’s half pleasure, half horror when you see the large bulge protruding from your abdomen. 

“Fuck,” Neteyam moans. “She’s so tight,”

Lo’ak grins mischievously as Neteyam lowers his mouth to the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses there as he starts to rock into you. One moment he’s in front of your face, sending you a cheeky wink when you gasp as the cock inside of you hits just the right angle to brush against your special spot, and then the next he’s crouching down, textured tongue lolling out of his mouth and licking against your swollen clit. 

You squeal at the feeling of his rough tongue, textured similarly to that of a cat’s, lapping at the sensitive nub. 

“T-too much!” You cry. You can’t close your legs, Neteyam’s hands holding them firmly open as he thrusts harder inside you, and your hands push against Lo’ak’s head, but he doesn’t budge - large head staying put while his tongue continues to swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

When Lo’ak decides he’s had enough, he lifts his head, trailing kisses up your stomach starting just above the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your belly and up your chest, tongue laving over the swell of your breast and latching onto your nipple, sharp teeth nibbling on the hard bud as you yelp.

His lips wrap around it, suckling on it for a moment before pulling off with a pop. 

“You taste so good, baby,” He murmurs, reaching down to play with your clit. “Like the sweetest little treat,”

“Feel so good, paskalin,” Neteyam grunts, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock to fuck into your harder. “Snug little pussy squeezing me so well. You were made to take Na’vi cock, weren’t you?”

“Oohh my goooooood,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming stimulation. “C-can’t t-take i-itt,”

“Sure you can,” Lo’ak teases, face so close to yours that in your haze all you can see is his bright golden eyes. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”

Neteyam’s thrusts are getting sloppy, moans and grunts a constant source behind you, and he hisses a quick “Fuck, take her,” at his brother. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pressed against Lo’ak, chest pressed tightly against his and Neteyam releases one of your thighs in favor of gripping your hip. Lo’ak’s hand cradles your released thigh instead, keeping you steady against him as his brother uses his new found leverage to pound into your tight cunt. Your arms instinctively wrap around Lo’ak’s neck, holding on for dear life as you moan and whimper loudly with the cool glass of your mask pressed against his collarbone. 

You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, and you can’t think about anything other than how impossibly full you feel and how good the ridges and bumps on his cock feel as they scrap and drag inside of you. Neteyam’s grip turns bruising, fingers digging into your hip and thigh as he fucks you harder. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” Neteyam growls, mushroomed tip pounding into your cervix. “Go on, tawtute. Say it!”

“Neteyaaamm,” You moan. “Please, please, please,”

Distantly, even through your hazy, fucked out brain, you can feel something thick and round prodding at your entrance, bumping and stretching you out even more with each thrust. You cum, sobbing as you contract tightly around him, body shaking in Lo’ak’s hold as his large hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. 

Neteyam pulls out of you with a tortured groan and your eyes flutter shut, pussy still contracting and squeezing and wanting - wanting his long, hard length inside of you again, wanting it splitting you open, and now that it's gone, you can’t believe how empty you feel.

Lo’ak lowers you gently to the ground, resting your exhausted body on the soft moss. You feel the way he pulls your thighs apart again, settling himself between them, what’s left of the setting sunlight filtering in behind your eyelids getting blocked as he hovers over you. 

“Stay awake, vrrtep,” He says, smacking your thigh lightly to wake you back up. Your heavy eyes peel themselves open, watching as Lo’ak braces one hand above your head while the other guides his cock to your core. You whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds, teasing the tip against your clit before running it down your slit and lining it up with your entrance. “It’s my turn,”

The slide is easier this time as he pushes in, but still no less intense. Your tired and overstimulated body tenses at the intrusion, tightening around him as he spears you open with his thick girth. 

“Such a pretty demon,” He moans, pleasure shooting through his veins at the feel of your tiny body hugging his cock like it never wants to let him go. “Tempting us the way you did,”

His hips start up a gentle tempo, rocking inside you to help you get used to his size and letting you feel the pleasurable drag of his barbs against your oversensitive walls. 

You whine, denying his comment. “D-didn’t do anyth–”

He silences you with a sharp snap of his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts and leaning down further so his pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust. Already you can feel another orgasm barreling towards you, threatening to rip you apart the same way his cock is splitting you open. 

“Fuck!” You squeal, back arching as your pussy squelches between your bodies. “Oh my god, fuck!”

“Say my name, baby,” Lo’ak grunts. “Wanna hear you moan it,”

“Looo’aaaaak,” You moan, bliss clouding your judgment as your hips buck into his in return. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam, standing just to the side, watching as his brother fucks your very soul from your body as his hand strokes along his raging length. Your eyes catch on something unusual towards the base of his cock -  a thick, round bulb that shouldn’t be there and he smirks as he sees you gaping at it, hand stroking down to the base and squeezing the thick engorged knot of tissue tightly, moaning at the sensation.

Lo’ak thrusts in you harder and you feel that same thick, round ball bumping at your entrance that you felt when Neteyam was fucking you. The same bulbish ball of tissue that must be the same as the one you're looking at right now.

“Great Mother,” Lo’ak groans, face scrunched up in pleasure. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad,”

“Don’t,” Neteyam growls, jerking forward as if to pull his brother away from you, but Lo’ak curls his body around yours protectively, a deep hiss of warning ripping from his throat as he bares his teeth at his brother. 

Neteyam freezes, hands up in surrender but he glares at the brother inside you all the same. “Don’t. We don’t know if her body can take it yet.”

Lo’ak grunts, resuming his thrusts. “I know. Just back off,”

His cock pounds you relentlessly, kissing your cervix and his hand reaches down to caress the bulge in your belly. He presses down on the bulging bump firmly at the same time that his teeth sink into the still unmarked side of your neck, making you scream, the blissful agonized cry echoing through the forest as you cream all over his cock.

He pulls out, groaning woefully like his brother did, and fists his cock furiously, aiming the leaking tip directly at your puffy, spent pussy. Neteyam does the same, crouching low and close, stroking his cock beside you as he aims for your chest. 

They cum within seconds of one another, shooting hot, thick stripes of pearly bioluminescent cum all over your body, covering your chest and lower half with their release. 

You can barely feel your body anymore, can’t move a single limb on your own, and, despite not having any use of anything, your body won’t stop shaking - oversensitive and overstimulated and completely satisfied in a way you never thought you could be. 

“Ready to head home, sevin tawtute?” Neteyam asks, breathing heavy as he recovers from his orgasm. He just came but his eyes are still dark and sinful, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Your exhausted eyes flick to Lo’ak only to see the same desirous expression. 

There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach as you close your eyes, listening to their dark chuckles as your body forces you to rest. The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is a low, deep voice say . . .

“You’re ours now,”

Extra>>>

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife

[askinkiskarma-deactivated202506]

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

Word Count: 50k words (completed 25 july 2023)

Warnings/notes: enemies-to-lovers, arranged mateship trope, angst, smut, fluff, the works

Synopsis: Neteyam wants to be the best at everything. Unfortunately for him, so do you. You and him have competed all your life for the title of Omaticaya's best warrior, for validation from the tribe's leaders, for your peers' respect, but most of all, to finally settle the lifelong simple question plaguing you both: who's best? The oldest Sully boy hates you for taking his parents' attention, you hate him for every bruise, cut and scrape you suffered at his hands, and when Mo'at announces you are to be a mated pair, the hatred is bound to explode and leave a few victims behind, including both your hearts.

➺ Chapter I: Why You Gotta Be So Vicious ➺ Chapter II: Hiding Our Sins From the Daylight ➺ Chapter III: I am Lost, But Not In You ➺ Chapter IV: It's In Your Image I'm Made ➺ Chapter V: This Stupid Thing Called Love ➺ Chapter VI: Something's Made Your Eyes Go Cold ➺ Chapter VII: Maybe We've Had Enough ➺ Chapter VIII: Sorry For Not Making You My Centerfold

[suimon]

forcedhusband!simon

tags: afab!reader, reader referred to by feminine terms, marriage of convenience wc: 862

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

There’s a dream that visits without warning, between thunderclaps and rain showers outside. 

It leaves you waking up feeling all misty and fuzzy. Makes your clothes stick to your skin, damp with perspiration. Your memory of it is already weak, everything leading up to that squeamish part blurred by insignificance. 

The only thing you remember is a kiss. 

The kiss within your dream that your subconscious made up because you must be getting sick, a kiss shared between you and the man who’s sleeping in the room across from yours, to be specific. You’re unwell, you must be. The dry crack of your throat agrees.

You feel a cold sweat coming on when you think about how real it felt – pink, wet, sandpaper tongue sliding over your own, a mouth that had a grasp on yours, the heat—that fever-hot warmth—passing between your lips like a game of catch. Making fists in your blankets, you stuff your face in them and take a deep breath, doing all you can to not wail out of embarrassment.

When you finally feel the uneasiness slip out of your gut, you manage to leave your bed for a glass of water. Ready to take ten minutes to silently tiptoe toward the kitchen, you slowly pull your door closed to avoid creaking—

“You goin’ somewhere?”

The voice makes you jump, adrenaline purging your veins. 

Whipping your head around the same time he flicks the hallway light on, you see him standing there, mug in hand. He must’ve been heading back into his room. You glance at his closed door, straightening your back.

His brows knit. “Sorry. Didn’t mean t’scare ya.” 

“It’s,” you gulp, a vast flurry of nerves pouring over you when you look at his lips. You hope with everything that he doesn’t notice how sickly you feel, lightheaded with the lingering memories of your dream. “It’s okay—and no, I’m just… thirsty.”

Like a reflex, he extends his arm and holds his mug out. 

“Here.” He nods to his hand. “Was goin’ to pour it out. S’jus’ water.”

Something fizzles and twists in your belly when you see a moist spot on the rim of the mug, glinting in the light, where his lips have been. You mindlessly take the mug into your hands, skittish hands careful to not touch his as you do so.

You both stand there for a moment, not returning to your respective rooms. Silence replaces the space where conversation belongs. 

Until he speaks, clearing his throat. “Storm botherin’ ya?”

“Storm?” You’re brought back to your senses, the cloud of your thoughts clearing out to let in the sound of rain falling outside. It falls on the roof like tears, thunder accompanying lightning, the rumble strong and dragged out. “Oh—no, no, it’s not. I don’t mind it.”

He hums. 

You awkwardly thank him for the water before you take a sip—making sure to drink from another spot on the rim—and he only nods.

“I’m… gonna go back to bed now.” You offer a smile, stepping back toward your room. “Goodnight.”

To your surprise, he follows your step. He’s a long way from being done with this conversation. The words have been bouncing around in his throat, and he despises how utterly difficult it is to ask you such a simple question.

“You free t’morrow?”

When you swivel around and meet his eyes, his gaze flits to how moist the water has made your lips. His jaw ticks. 

“Tomorrow?” you ask. “As in ‘in a few hours’ tomorrow?”

“Yes, as in that tomorrow.”

“For what?”

His brows go heavy, grimacing because you’re making this harder than it needs to be.

“M’askin’ if you want t’go somewhere with me, love—d’ya ‘ave to make it so difficult?”

You scoff a wordless sound and eye him, warmth dousing your face. 

“I’m not trying to make it difficult, I was just asking.” you grumble, “Like what, a date?”

He looks strangled. Tries to not roll his eyes at the sappy and childish word that you suggest in half-seriousness, but, “Sure. A date.”

The air in your lungs deflates like a stomped balloon. “O-oh, seriously?”

A harsh sigh. “Ne’ermind, it’s alright. Don’t have to—”

Your hand shoots out and grabs his arm, the mug of water in your hand almost spilling over in the process. 

His skin is hot to the touch.

“Hold on, I didn’t even answer—yes! Yes, I’m free tomorrow. We can go.”

Simon hates the man he’s become – tasting something sweet on his tongue and feeling his cheeks itch to lift when he watches you fight back a sheepish smile as you remove your hand. The damning sight makes him wish he were blind. It breathes him in and breathes out a clumsy-feeling fool. By the time you turn around to your door, attempting to hide the full-blown grin, he’s already carved the sight of it into memory. 

“Don’t get your hopes up.” he adds as you step into your room. “It ain’t anythin’ fancy.”

With poorly-concealed anticipation, you murmur a small ‘I won’t’ before closing your door. You go to bed after downing the entire mug, the heat on your cheeks stuck there with wait.

[nervousd]

→ Infatuation — m.list

━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

#SYNOPSIS— Recom! Miles Quaritch is tasked with a mission to reunite you with his predecessor in his grave

#WARNING(S)— This will be a dark fic. unhealthy obsession, unhealthy fixation, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, implications of dubcon/noncon, noncon/dubcon, sexual harassment, implications of forced mating, implications of unwanted pregnancy, implications of baby trapping, abuse of power, stalking, authority kink, physical abuse, age gap, Older male/younger woman

#CHARACTER(S)— Colonel Miles Quaritch, Recom! Colonel Miles Quaritch

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chapter Index

→ PROLOGUE

Recom Miles gets a briefing from his predecessor

→ CHAPTER ONE: Reminiscence

Recom! Miles remembers his infatuation for you

→ CHAPTER TWO: Settle For A Ghost

Out in the forest the recoms find high value priosners

→ CHAPTER THREE: Unexpected Visitors

The dead come back to visit

Side Stories

→ unwelcoming touches

→ Decisions

→ Punishment

→ unexpected

Drabbles

→ settle for

→ longing

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

╭─────────── •

˗'ˏ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ˎˊ˗

The other side of paradise - Glass Animals

1:13 ━━━══════ 3:21

↻ ◃ || ▹ ↺

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

╰───────────────

[tsireyasluvr]

Desperation

Neteyam x Human fem!reader

Authors note: i’ve been debating making this a mini series, let me know what you think! <3

Summary: you and neteyam have been fascinated by one another and each others cultures, spending every possible minute together. neteyam adapts a habit of sneaking out at night to see you, tonight being no different.

Warnings: 18+!! minors DNI!, aged up neteyam, neteyam is a munch, soft dom neteyam, praises, oral (fem receiving), grinding, whining, size difference, talk of first time (p in v) doesn’t actually happen tho, i think that’s it?

ever since neteyam met you, he’s been stuck to your side like glue. finishing his clan tasks and chores as quick as he possibly could to get back to you, and frankly he’s been spending more time in the lab than he ever thought he would. truthfully, he hated the place. he hated how it smelled so unnatural and how things were so colourless, almost un-life like. humans were fine, but he could never understand the way they lived. he never understood his brothers’ fascination with them either, he never did feel in touch with his human side. until he met you of course, you changed his perspective on a lot of things.

he still didn’t love the lab. but he liked the books you showed him, he liked the assortment of blankets you had and he liked how he could watch you scribble down your thoughts on paper at any moment. he liked the little things, that was undeniable.

he also liked you. granted, most of the human things he likes it’s really only because of you. but it was all incomparable to how he felt about you. everything about you was appealing to him, enticing and captivating. you were exciting, in an entirely different way than his reckless brother was. you were introducing him to new things every day, teaching him the way of your people and culture while he got to give you a personal look on his. the relationship between the two of you grew, and eventually you were spending practically every second together. innocent touches turned into lingering ones, and he couldn’t keep himself from going further.

he started breaking curfew for you, sneaking into your room at odd hours of the night, starting out with just kisses on top of kisses escalating quickly to him on top of you grinding his hips into yours for a little bit of friction. it was embarrassing really, how much he craved to be as close as possible to you even if it was just a kiss or your something as far as your hand wrapped tightly around him.

you were now sat on his lap, late into the night after he once again crept into your dorm within the lab, his large hands holding your waist firmly as you grind your hips against his.

“princess, slow down a little for me” he groaned against your lips as you kept speeding up your movements. even while on top of him, the size difference still had him towering over you, making it easy to lean in and trail your lips on his neck.

his breath catches at that, his face flushing as he takes a deep breath in. “i don’t wanna slow down. i want more” you whined, keeping your legs straddled around his waist. the truth is, you craved the man just as much as he craved you. neteyam consumed every single one of your thoughts, and the desperate grinding and touches have hardly been covering it for you lately. you craved something more, to take things further. you felt his cock press just right against your covered clit, your body feeling warm all over from the sensation, only becoming more desperate for him.

he chuckles a little at your whining, leaning over to look down at your furrowed eyebrows and parted lips. “you enjoying this that much?” he whispered, his voice soft and teasing as he pressed a kiss to your temple, holding your hips tighter as he ground you harder against him. you nodded frantically, hiding your face in his neck as you quietly asked him “can you go faster?”

your voice made him melt, he found your shyness around him so endearing. “yeah baby, whatever you want.” he whispered sweetly, his breath hot in your ear as he did as you asked, pulling back slightly to keep looking at your reaction. he was so obsessed with seeing your blissed out expressions, feeling proud that it was him who made you feel that good. he never was shy with you when it came to his sexuality, getting off on pleasing you and always chasing the euphoric feel of seeing you unravel for him, because of him.

the way his hips were angled had his cock brush up again your clit with every movement, making you moan out his name. he feels your fingertips trace down to his loincloth, fumbling with the strings holding it together, as if asking for permission. “go ahead, princess.” he lifted you up and off his lap like you weighed nothing, keeping you off momentarily so you can pull the loincloth off of him.

you did hurriedly, tossing it as far as possible from you once you finally got it off. he hissed as his cock was freed, feeling the tiniest bit of relief as the cold air hit it. you looked down anxiously, realizing just how big he really was and wondering if that’d ever fit inside of you.

you haven’t had sex yet, but you’ve talked about it. you’ve also been naked around each other plenty, even during innocent moments like cuddling under your mountain of blankets and quilts. you liked to claim it was for research purposes. it felt like now, and this moment, that’s what it was leading up to. the desperation and urgency felt different today, the air between you feeling thicker. it was unspoken, but acknowledged between you both. sometimes you felt like you shared one brain from how often his thoughts reflected yours.

he placed you down gently, cupping your face with one hand and holding your waist with the other, leaning in to kiss you hotly. he rubbed your cheek with his thumb, trying to soothe you as he felt you become nervous. “it’s just me, pretty girl. we’ll take it nice and slow, always” he said gently, looking into your eyes with his warm amber ones.

once you nod and grant him permission, he cradled you in his arms and laid you back on the cot, hovering over you. he pressed his lips to yours again, licking into your mouth as he trailed his fingertips down your abdomen and to your shorts, unbuttoning them with one hand and pulling them down your legs. his breath becomes heavier as he moved his hand over your core, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. you gasped at the feeling, your lips parting as you looked up at him. he’s used his hands on you before, but his touch sent a jolt of electricity through you every single time.

“are you okay, syulang?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he locked eyes with you. his pupils were blown, the warm amber colour barely seen now. “good, i’m good, really good” you panted, your fingers shakily reaching up to brush against his jaw. the eagerness from before was still there but slightly wavering, you realizing this was a lot more.. intense than you anticipated. he smiled down at you, chuckling softly. “you’re shaking” his voice laced with a bit of concern, but still smiling at you reassuringly. “yeah, well, maybe i’m slightly nervous.. can you blame me?” you say, gesturing down to his member, referencing the size.

“i want you comfortable, sweet girl. you know we can always wait, right?” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, looking up at you with a gentle look in his eyes. you let out a breathe, trying to wipe your sweaty palms against your legs. “i know..” you look over his face, taking in his features and feeling your heart melt over the warmth in his expression.

“why don’t you hold my hand and try to relax, okay?” he lowers his hand down to yours, feeling you interlace your fingers with his as he smiles down at you again. you hold his hand tightly, bringing it up to rest against your chest as you press a kiss to his knuckles. his hand practically engulfs yours, reminding you of the size difference that strangely only made you feel more safe and protected now. he noticed the change in demeanour, leaning down to trail kisses from your ear to neck again, whispering “that’s a good girl”, his breath hot against your neck.

you mewl from the praise, him making you get more and more excited as you try grinding your pelvis against his, skin against skin causing you to whine and squeeze his hand tighter “Teyam, more”.

the words send a flush through him, growling slightly into the crook of your neck from your pleading tone. he licks a stripe up your neck, you feeling just how big the wet muscle alone is compared to your body, his tongue practically covering half your neck. he looks at you with his head tilted, his eyes meeting yours slowly. “you want more?” he says quietly with a slight smirk, his voice sounding a lot more sultry as his eyes rake over you, his fingers thumbing over the hem of your shirt. you nod at him, your big wide eyes looking at him with a slightly nervous but trusting sense. he let go of your hand, taking off the shirt and leaving you bare beneath him. he leaned in to capture your lips in his once more, making sure you didn’t have time to over think your appearance to him as he trailed his hand to your chest, lightly squeezing your breast. you moan into the kiss, your hands reaching to rest in his hair as you lightly tug at the braids.

he trailed his hand back down to your core, two fingers running through your slit, collecting your slick as he found the sensitive nub. he gently massaged circles into it, drawing another moan out of you. “n-nete..”

“shhh” he cooed, moving his fingers a little faster. “s’okay. feels good, yeah?” his voice sounds slightly hoarse as he admires your blissed out expression, smiling at your little squirms and mewls. “mhm..! yeah, just.. a little faster” you pant, bucking your hips into his palm, his hand covered in your wetness. neteyam chuckles at your eagerness, speeding up his movements before trailing kisses down your chest, lower and lower as he licks and sucks along your stomach before reaching your sensitive spot. he looks you in the eyes as he removes his fingers from your clit and replaces them with his tongue, the large muscle practically covering your entire pussy.

“oh god- Neteyam!” you yell, throwing your head back as your lips stay parted and your hand grips at his hair. he growls into your heat, lapping at your juices enthusiastically as he holds your legs open for him. “fuck, you taste so sweet, princess. so fucking delicious” he groans, slurping loudly at your cunt. you kept bucking your hips into his face, your face turning red as you mewl.

he keeps his eyes on you, not looking away for even a second as he swipes his tongue through your heat, beginning to suck on your clit as he slowly brings his finger to circle your pussy, slowly pushing it in. you gasp softly, your eyes widening as you looked down and gazed into his eyes, seeing the predatory look behind them as he started thrusting it in and out. you let out a silent moan, squeezing your eyes shut as you clutched the sheets beneath you, whimpering as you locked your legs around his head. he grinned, sucking more enthusiastically when he felt your thighs tremble.

“teyam, teyam, teyam!” you’re practically screaming now, feeling the knot about to unravel as your brows furrow in pleasure.

“what is it, beautiful?” he asks, pulling away momentarily to talk before delving back in. “i-i think.. i think i’m close” you whine, writhing beneath him. “yeah? gonna cum for me sweet girl?” he spoke into your cunt, tongue beginning to circle your clit as he keeps sucking. “mhm! y-yeah, fuck!” you squeal, panting before his movements get more intense, finally coaxing you over the edge as he grips your legs tightly. “that’s it sweetheart, always so good for me” he murmured, crawling back over you gently once your shaking body stills.

he laid next to you on your tiny bed, reaching an arm out for you and pulling you into his chest. you felt your body melting into him when you rested your head on his chest, breathing in deeply and relaxing in his hold. “feeling okay?” he whispered softly, running his hand over your back in soothing motions. you only nod your head, your eyes starting to close a little as you fought to stay awake, not wanting the moment to be over yet. he noticed this, chuckling softly as you felt the rumble of his laugh beneath you in his chest. “i can see that you’re tired, y/n. why don’t we just enjoy each others presence for tonight, hm?”

you looked up at him with a pout, your brows furrowed adorably as you lifted your head slightly to see him better. “you didn’t get to finish though. i wanna make you feel good too” you say, starting to lift your body up slowly and throwing a leg over his hip, propping yourself up to sit on top of him. he only pulls you back down to him, your legs still straddling his hips. “believe me, that was REAL good for me too. we’ll focus on the rest another night, okay?” he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, you absentmindedly tilting your face further into his palm as you looked down at him. he smiled at you, thumbing at your adorable pout. “rest. i’m getting tired too here, and i only have a few more hours with you until i have to go back”

with that, you let your body relax and rest against him, feeling him press a kiss to your temple as you prayed for the time to go by slow, not wanting to let him go back home just yet.

[velvetciders]

visit | jack champion

- "your more important than a movie."

↳ jack!actor x reader

↳ warnings : make out, fluff, sitting on lap

↳ summary : you visted jack at work, only to find him missing you so much. eventually you guys start to make out and all that spicy stuff, relation to smut (if u squint)

↳ a/n : yall liked the ethan landry one so heres a jack one! yall are gonna like this one 😉

------------------------------------------------------------

jack was working on his new movie after scream 6. hes always been busy, although he's tried to do his best to spend as much time with you.

you wanted to suprise him while he was at work, because he was texting about how much he misses you.

you walked into the parking lot, and saw the hair designer. you walked up to her.

"hey! do you know where jack is?" you asked.

her face brightened up as she realized that you were his girlfriend. "oh y/n! thank god your here, he's just been talking about you the whole entire time."

you blushed at her words. even if you guys were a couple already, his actions and looks make your tummy fluster.

"he's just in his trailer." she pointed.

you said thanks and walked over. the door was labeled 'dereck', which was the character name. you could hear that he was blasting music in the trailer.

thats when you realized that it was the same exact playlist you made for him for when you two were crushing on each other.

your heart skipped a beat as you walked in slowly. he couldn't hear you since of the music, but he was shirtless. youve seen him shirtless before, but for some reason, it twitched your brain.

he was grabbing his shirt, until you ran up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. he flinched until he saw it was you.

"y/n!!" he squeled. he turned to you with the huggest smile ever.

"oh my gos- wait.." he walked over to his phone and lowered the volume.

he turned to you and smiled again. "your here!!" he ran up to you and lifted you up from the ground.

you wrapped your legs around his waist. he took his face out of your neck and just stared at admired your face.

"ive missed you so much baby oh my gosh i still cant believe your here i was totally not expecting it and-" he paused, "oh my gosh im talking to fast arent i?" he blabbered.

"yes but, i dont mind pretty boy," you pouted. "ive just missed your lips forever."

"well.." he smirked. "your wish is my command."

he placed you down at sat on the couch that was inside the trailer. he manspreaded, something that he knew you loved. you walked over at sat on his lap. you straddled him and stared into him lovingly.

he placed his arms around your waist, his thumbs rubbing the side. "look at you y/n.." he whispered.

"your so gorgeous, i can puke right now." he chuckled softly.

"theres no one i would rather spend the rest of my life with.." he said softly, his cheeks turning pink.

"me too pretty boy." you said before leaning down to kiss him.

he accepted the gesture gracefully. he took a deep breath before giving you the most sloppiest kisses ever. his breath hitched as you ran your hands down his abs. you then ran your fingers through his hair while tugging it. it made him groan into your mouth, causing the vibrations to shiver down your body.

you gripped his hair even tighter as you started to rock your hips back and forth on his lap. he pulled away fron your lips to whimper softly, eyes rolling behind his head.

"fuck y/n-" he shivered, "your gonna have to stop or else.."

you pulled away, each other saliva creating a string. "your right, you have to focus on your movie." you started to get up before he slammed your hips into his lap.

he tutted. "oh no no sweetheart, your more important than a movie."

you opened your mouth to say something before his lips attached to yours. this time, he was more open to the kiss. he entered his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan. he responded back with a groan as he bit your bottom lip softly. you grazed your tongue on his bottom lip, which made him to feral.

you could feel his whole chest and body heat up from this. he started to breath heavy, and so did you. his hands were roaming all over you now, like creeping up your shirt with his hands.

after another 10 solid minutes, you two pulled away. you had to catch your breath after this occurence with jack. man, he was a good kisser.

you two stared at each other lovingly as you took in each others features.

"i love you baby."

"i love you more jack."

he smirked, "hmm not possible." he teased.

you gasped playfully, "how is that not possible?"

"wellll.. i fell in love first."

you tilted your head and smiled. "that doesn't count dingus." you poked his chest.

"ow!!" he laughed and smiled, "yes it does."

"says who?" you said while massaging both his arms.

he hesitated, "me, of course."

you both laughed as you fell on the couch. you were now laying down, facing each other.

"i love you y/n l/n.." he whispered as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

"i love you two jack champion." you smiled, knowing that you were about to spend the rest of your life with the best man ever.

[hotdsworld-deactivated20240920]

"Queen"

Mafia!Modern!Neteyam Sully x f!Reader (Quaritch's daughter)

a/n: I really wanted it to be good. It's the first and not the last fic of mine with mafia au! Credits to @cafekitsune for dividers/gifs.

Beautiful pic on the right of adult Neteyam belongs to talented cinetrix

@criticallybella here you go sweetheart

Word count: 4k

Summary: life as a daughter of a police officer was never easy, but it seems like you were the target the whole time.

Warnings: dubcon (?), power imbalance, threats (not about death or injury), mentions of stalking, mentions of torture (not about Reader), oral (both receiving) fingering, virginity loss, size difference, tummy bulge, p in v, unprotected, breeding kink, choking

Sevin - pretty (one)

Tanhì - star

Life finally began to treat you well. After you were fired from your previous job because your manager did not know how to keep his hands to himself and the boss didn't believe you, you weren't sure how you would be able to move on, but you did. The job offer that you got was great and people there were really treating you well, unlike in your previous job. The company was rather prestigious, selling mostly sports cars. You had to learn about them before you began to work, but not everything was going smoothly and you actually felt complete. Selling cars maybe wasn't the job of your dreams but it was definitely a good start, and it was paying the bills.

“Miss Quaritch, the boss wants to see you,” Nora, a really nice secretary informed. During the four months that you worked here, Nora proved herself to be kind and helpful. You trusted her fully, that's why you believed when she said that the boss is a very busy man. You haven't seen him before, only his assistants.

“Boss? Did I do something?” For some reason, everyone in the company feared him. It would be quite normal, most employers think that they can gain respect through fear, but in this case, these people were really terrified.

“I don't think so, but you never know. Maybe he saw you and you caught his eye?” Nora moved her eyebrows suggesting something. You shook your head, giggling. Nora has been trying to set you up with someone for a date for weeks now.

“Looking at this company, he's either an old man or an arrogant young bastard,” you were assuming, but it was most likely for the boss to be one of these two. Nora just smiled not wanting to reveal too much.

“Top floor, Y/n” was all that she said. You sighed deeply stepping inside the elevator. You weren't ready to be fired. This job was too good… you began to think of what you could have done wrong. Surely, you made a couple of mistakes in the beginning, but it was normal. You were playing with your fingers nervously, what could he possibly want after four months? Maybe he was so busy he found time just now to meet you? The elevator reached the top floor, and it opened revealing the office. You looked around, everything here was so fancy… You didn't grow up in a rich family, so for you it was new and you were curious.

“Y/n Quaritch, it's good to finally meet you in person,” his voice reached your ears. You looked at him immediately, you knew who he was. You wanted to go back to the elevator but it was blocked… “Sit,” he demands calmly. You didn't want to, but maybe it was just a coincidence? You sat on the luxurious chair, which looked incredibly expensive, and it wasn't even that comfy. The boss got closer to you, he was tall, taller than anyone you have ever met.

“What do you want?” You asked harshly. You didn't want to take part in this game. Neteyam was towering over you, that alien man towered over almost everyone. He was wearing black pants, they were rather tight with an expensive belt and a black turtleneck. His presence was demanding respect, respect that you weren't going to give him so easily. You met him a few times, mostly when your father was trying to arrest him but somehow, it never worked out. Other times you were on the street or he came to your job. Neteyam was smirking, it was his usual smirk that was annoying you so much. He caressed your cheek softly, his fingers decorated with expensive rings. Beneath them he had tattoos. His hand was cold, a contrast to your warm body. You frowned, his touch wasn't welcomed.

“Your virginity… for your father’s debt, little dove,” Neteyam moved his hand away. His eyes scanned your face, taking every little detail of your expression. The way your eyes widened and lips parted slightly, he enjoyed surprising you. It was such a hard thing to do, to surprise Quaritch’s bratty princess, and yet… Neteyam succeeded. You snapped back to reality quickly, you weren't going to let him affect you like that.

“My father doesn't have debts.” Neteyam chuckled, enjoying your resistance. The way you were looking at him angrily, it did nothing but amuse him. A little human like you trying to scare someone powerful like him.

“He does. Every time he fucks with my and my family’s business we lose lots of money… and what is the most precious thing to him?” Neteyam made a dramatic pause. “You, princess. The best revenge would be getting my hands on you.”

“What made you think I would agree?” You stood up. You had enough of your father and the Sully family. You weren't going to be a part of this game. 

“I don't think I gave you a choice, little dove,” he cornered you, your lower back pressed against his desk. “If you don't. I will fire you and make your life a living hell….but if you do let me, then I promise I won't harm you or your family,” that damn smirk. You wanted to rip it off his face. Why has Neteyam always had to win? Why was he always one step ahead?

“I will scream for help,” you warned. It was a huge company with many workers, someone would hear for sure.

“My office is soundproof. I like to keep my things private,” his fingers tracing along your collarbone. Your breath hitched, feeling the weird electricity between your bodies. He was your enemy and he was standing too damn close.

“You wouldn't dare to do something to my father,” you looked up into his eyes. You, ever defiant Y/n intrigued Neteyam Sully himself. Neteyam considered you as a weakness, he never cared about women so much. He had flings for sure, with his looks? But there was something about you… he couldn't put his finger on it. Neteyam leaned closer, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I can turn him into an angel… cut his chest open and take out the ribs,” Neteyam whispered into your ear, brushing his teeth against the earlobe teasingly. Despite his cruel words, your breath grew heavier, he knew your sensitive spots. You needed to stop, you couldn't yield to that arrogant fucker. You didn't think much, before slapping him. Neteyam leaned back a little, clearly amused by your behavior. He licked his lips and as much as you hated to admit, it was a pretty sight. Neteyam was looking at you for a moment… you were beautiful, he just wished you weren't such a brat, but all humans are… Neteyam massaged his cheek gently. “Ouch,” he pouted. Neteyam was mocking you, your human hand couldn't cause him pain.

“Your family is a bunch of criminals. I won't let you-” Neteyam showed you a tablet, someone was spying on your father, walking behind him without him knowing. 

“Just one call and my man can get rid of him. Are you sure you are in a position to refuse?” Neteyam chuckled, seeing your expression. You didn't know what to do… you loved your father more than life itself.

“I will do it,” it felt bad. You wanted to do it with someone who cared about you, not with some mafia future boss to get rid of imaginary debt. 

“Undress for me, sevin. I want to see the pretty little body of yours,” Neteyam was watching you like a predator when you undressed. You were doing it slowly, your hands were shaking a bit.

“Just one time, right? And then you will leave me and my family alone?” You

“I will treat you like the Queen that you are,” he took a pillow from the couch and put it on the floor. “Kneel on it, I wouldn't want your knees to get hurt.” You looked down unsure, you didn't know how to Quetouch a man, did he expect you to be good? You felt so… vulnerable. No one has seen you naked before. You got on your knees, looking at him with hatred and fear. Neteyam was amused, he knew he was breaking your pride and he was taking pleasure in it, to see you submitting to him. It was all for something greater.  

“No one will know about this, right?” You bit your bottom lip, taking deep breaths.    

“Of course, no need to get nervous, sevin. I told you that I would treat you like a queen,” he caressed your cheek before unbuckling his belt. His moves were so smooth that he took the belt with one hand. Neteyam put it on the table before taking care of his turtleneck and pants, revealing the gorgeous tattoo on the side of his neck. His body was shaped by the god himself… perfect lines, muscles, the pretty shiny skin. His clothes were made by a tailor, probably he had a private one or maybe two? Neteyam could afford it, and no one was making clothes THAT big. “Do you like what you see?” Neteyam got rid of his boxers and your lips parted. You have never seen something like this. His cock was standing proudly, pressed against his muscled abdomen. It was bigger than anything you have seen before, he was pretty thick, and the veins defined. 

“It's nothing special,” you shrugged, but he could see how your eyes sparkled. Neteyam approached his gaze not leaving you even for a minute. 

“We will see. Wrap your fingers around it, firmly but gently.” You did as he said before slowly stroking him. Neteyam let out a sound of approval. “You won't take all of it tonight, but I'm sure half of it will fit. You are such a brave woman, aren't you? Try sucking on the tip.” You didn't know why you were so nervous, it's not like you wanted to impress him. Maybe a little… your hand stayed wrapped around the base of his cock as you began to suck on his tip. The salty taste of precum lingered on your tongue. Neteyam groaned, it was only the tip and yet it felt so good. “Good, learning to handle your duties quickly. Slowly take more of it into your mouth. Stroke what you can't fit.” You focused on the job, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth, sucking and twirling your tongue around the length. Neteyam was letting out little grunts and groans, he didn't expect you to get it so fast. His hands on the back of your head, helping you to move. You were ashamed, you could only fit a half of him and you were already gagging once in a while. “Keep your mouth open for me, alright? Breathe through your nose, I need to fuck this gorgeous bratty lips,” his grip on your hair tightened. You kept your mouth open as he began to thrust in and out, getting slightly deeper than you were taking him before. At first, Neteyam was taking it slowly, but as time passed he became rougher, increasing the pace. You were gagging, your eyes watering, but he liked that sight. He liked that sight of Quaritch’s little princess on her knees, taking his cock. As much as you hated him, it felt good… Neteyam’s cock fucking your mouth felt good. “Good girl, you’re doing such a great job, tanhì. Taking my dick so well, such a pretty girl. You are doing so great, baby. Are you going to make me cum? Yes, you are going to make me cum… and swallow every fucking drop,” he hissed the last part of the sentence. The tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. Neteyam groaned as his body became stiff, his cum pouring into your mouth. The salty taste on your tongue, there was so much of it… you felt like you were going to drown. You spat his cum out, it was too much. It dripped down your chin, to your breasts. “Come on, didn't your father teach you to swallow? We don't spit, my queen, we swallow,” Neteyam was clearly displeased. “If you weren't a virgin I would fuck you now senseless, so you would beg for me to stop. I'm going to do it anyway but luckily for you, I really need to prepare you for my cock, my queen,” he picked you up easily and laid down on his desk. It was huge, like everything in this office. Neteyam spread your legs, immediately leaning down, you weren't sure what he was going to do.

“What are you going to do-” you gasped, feeling something wet against your slit. Neteyam licked a stripe from your slit to your clit, repeating it multiple times before sucking on your clit.

“Seems like sucking my cock got you a little wet, sevin. Born to be a slut? You seem to like to get your mouth used. Will it be the same with your pussy?” he teased, before sucking on your clit. You were tense, but you couldn't deny the pleasure you were feeling at this moment. The way his tongue was dragging up and down your clit…his finger sliding inside of you. It felt weird and new. You masturbated before but your fingers were no match to his. His fingers were much bigger and longer. “So fucking tight. I can't wait to feel those walls wrapped around my cock, my queen,” Neteyam moans against your clit. As he worked you open enough, he pushed another finger in, filling up you even more. Your hands were pulling on his braids, you couldn't help it. You hated him, you hated the situation you found yourself in, you hated that he degraded you… but you didn't hate the way he was touching you. The tension building up in your stomach, you knew that feeling… but now, it was much stronger. Your spine curving against the desk, it was surprisingly comfortable. “Cum for me, sevin. Cum for me so I can fuck you properly, like the Queen that you are,” his voice was sending vibrations against your clit and you lost it. You closed your eyes, the orgasm was overwhelming, your thighs trembling. You wanted to sit up, but Neteyam stopped you. 

“What is it?” Was he really going to take your virginity? Neteyam placed himself between your thighs, his tip pressed against your entrance, but he didn't move yet.

“Relax, tanhì. I promise to be gentle, alright? You can hold my hand,” the very same hands were killing people every single day. The very same hands tortured many people, but for you, the scary mafia man forced himself to be gentle. You were his weakness, but he wasn't going to admit it yet. You were too prideful, you didn't grab his hand. It's not like you have chosen to fuck him, he was the one who made you agree. “Alright, as you wish, sevin,” Neteyam pushed inside slowly. You whined in pain, that stretch hurt. It felt weird, like an intruder, your fingers immediately intertwined with his, and you focused on the feeling of his rings, playing with them. Neteyam chuckled seeing how quickly you changed your mind. “Such a tight pussy. I knew you would be perfect. Yes… I knew, I fucking knew,” he continued to push inside until he bottomed out. He caressed your hand with his thumb, trying to soothe you as he noticed the tears in your eyes.

“That hurts,” you whisper. Neteyam nods slowly, he knew you being a virgin was making it very different. 

“I know, I know,” he wiped your tears gently, admiring how soft your skin was. “I won't move, alright? I will wait,” he traced his hand down, to your stomach, where the bulge was. Neteyam traced his fingers on the outlines of his cock, it felt quite pleasant.

“Okay, alright,” you were taking deep breaths. Despite him being such an asshole, you were grateful that he didn't rush it. You didn't know how much time passed, he was slowly caressing your body, but you looked into his eyes unsure. “You can move. I think I can handle it,” you bit your lip. Neteyam nodded before moving out of you to push inside again. The pain was still there but you were getting used to it as his moves became rhythmical. Neteyam was watching your expressions all the time. Maybe he was a monster but he would never hurt a woman like that… not you. Neteyam was playing with your sensitive breasts, squeezing and massaging. Soon enough, the pain was turned into pleasure, and the office was filled up with your sweet moans. You couldn't believe how deep he was, you could are almost every single vein of his cock on your stomach. Your fingers gripping the desk desperately. Neteyam was getting rougher, losing himself in the feeling of your tight cunt clenching around his monstrous cock. He was sucking and kissing on your neck, leaving marks. You were going to be his.

“Yes, oh fuck. See how good you’re taking me? How your pussy is wrapped around my cock? Can you see me in your stomach? Can you?” Neteyam groans, pounding into you faster. He was like an animal. “I'm going to breed this pretty pussy, make it mine,” his hands moved to your keeps, using them as leverage. 

“F-fuck you, it's the one time. I'm here on accident,” you whimper. The feeling of his cock rearranging your guts was overwhelming. You couldn't help the moans leaving your lips. He was a fucking asshole but his dick was fucking you so good… Neteyam smirked, you were fucked dumb, it was time to te you the truth. Neteyam wrapped his hand around your throat, his tattoos looked so beautiful. You began to wonder about their meaning… but only for a minute, his cock not only knocked out the air out of your lungs, but also, thoughts out of your head.

“You’re here because I made it so, little dove. Wasn't it weird to you? The way you got your job,” Neteyam was moving his cock even faster in and out of you, enjoying every little moan coming out of your lips. The way your walls were squeezing him tightly like you wanted him to remain inside forever. “You are here because I made it so. I saw such a pretty little thing three years ago… I decided to observe it, everywhere…” his grip on your neck tightened. Neteyam chuckled, pushing his cock deeper. “And I decided that I wanted it, so I got my men to bring you here somehow. Offering you a nice job with a nice salary. You were so easy to convince… and I thought that you would be smarter after being such a brat. I couldn't hire you to one of the companies with my family’s name, you would figure it out too soon. Now you’re my private slut, little dove. I wanted you, so I took you. I didn't want someone to take care of you. Those men interested in you? I paid some of them to stop talking to you… others… I had to get rid of them. That's how it works, I have all of the power,” Neteyam grunts, his thrusts becoming rougher. Your head was empty, you couldn't even focus on what he was saying. Neteyam admitted to stalking you and getting rid of potential partners, and you did not even care. All you cared about was his cock inside of you. Your fingers gripping the desk tightly. “My little pretty wife. All mine to use and abuse… and you will love it, won't you? You will be my queen around others… and my little private whore in private. It's what you’re good for, isn't it? Your pussy was always meant to be mine, to be filled up by my cum. Your tight walls perfectly molded to the shape of my cock. The pain was now a forgotten memory, you were melting in his arms. Your body was so hot that you felt like you were burning. His other hand moved to your clit, he knew it was sensitive so he was rubbing against it gently. Your eyes rolled back, body arching, legs trembling. You began to feel the effect of his hand around your neck, but you were also getting closer. “You were meant to be mine, that's why you kept your innocence so long. That worry, your husband is here to claim you, tanhì. Your husband is here to breed you, to pump you full of cum. My little mafia queen,” his balls felt like they were about to explode. Neteyam began to hit your G-spot and you couldn't hold yourself anymore.

“Please, harder. Please, Nete,” you moaned, and he had never heard something so beautiful. You, saying his name like that… if it was someone else, he would have killed them, but you? You had privileges, as his wife… his queen. 

“Do you want me to breed you? Perhaps it would result in a child. Dump my load inside your tight pussy. Is that what Quaritch’s innocent daughter wants? To have the big scary mafia boss fuck her full of his evil seed? Your pussy feels so good around my cock. It begs me to cum inside, I will. I will breed this tight cunt,” Neteyam was close to whimpering. He loosened the grip on your throat, just to let you breathe and talk.

“Yes, please. Pump me full of your cum, please I just want to come. Can I?” Your whimpers were so pleasant… 

“Do it then. Come on my cock, show me just how much you love this. Me fucking you full, stretching you out on this dick,” his expression was smug. He tightened the grip around your neck again. Normally, you would have said something back, but you were falling apart. Your body almost shaking, as you came undone. “Oh, fuck. You clenched so much. I can't hold back anymore, my queen. I'm going to breed you, breed this fucking pretty pussy,” he moans. Neteyam squeezed your neck tightly as he pushed deep inside of you, his balls meeting your asshole as he came inside of you. It was new, like everything you did today… but it was so pleasant and warm. It felt so right and wrong at the same time. Neteyam let go of your neck, leaning down, your foreheads pressed together. You closed your eyes, your body was covered in sweat but you didn't mind it now. You were catching up your breath. Neteyam pulled out and picked you up, he moved you on the huge couch and lay beside you. His cold hand caresses your hair, brushing it off your face. You let yourself catch your breath, you were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to walk. Your body hurt, and neck? Covered in marks.

“Gods,” you groaned. It was so wrong and you were so… you gave up so easily.

“What is it?“ Neteyam looked at you with curiosity. Now, he let himself to be soft but as soon as you were going to be out of sight, he would go back to his cold demeanor. It's the way of being the boss.

“You called me a queen. A queen of what?” Your eyes were closed. You were exhausted and conflincted. You weren't sure why did you submit so easily, why did you enjoy it? He was a fucking creep and a stalker, not to mention he was in the mafia.

“Because you conquered,” his voice was a little raspy.

“Conquered what?” You opened your eyes, confused. Was he high? It wouldn't surprise you, he had money and contacts.

“My soul. You’re the queen of my soul, I love you,” Neteyam smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Cheesy,” you rolled your eyes. How could someone like that be a mafia boss?

“But you love it,” Neteyam chuckled, massaging your shoulders. You were his, and he wasn't going to let anyone take you away from him. “You are mine, sweetheart. I'm never going to let you go. Mine,” his expression became stern once his phone called. It's going to be interesting.

[ma-yawntu]

mine, all mine.

chapter one: paradigm

pairing: neteyam x female!metkayina!reader

summary: You had your routine down to a fine art until he and his family threw a wrench in the works.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: mentions of injury, weapons, sneaking out, you're a menace fr. NO USE OF Y/N!!!

now playing... home by good neighbours

metkayina face claims

chapter two

It was early in the morning, long before the sun peeked over the horizon and bathed the village of Awa’atlu in a soft golden hue. You were silent as you crept toward the entrance to your family’s marui, placing your feet ever so carefully as to not disturb your siblings and parents and undoubtedly cop a string of questions as to why exactly you were up so early. You’d lie your way out of it, as usual, but you would remain under suspicion for far too long. But by now, you had this sneaking out business down to a fine art. Your mother’s duties as Tsahik had her awake fairly early most mornings and your father– well, you were sure the entire village knew when he was asleep given his occasional thunderous snores that you heard even in your dreams (or nightmares depending on your persuasion). 

There was a short expanse of time when both your parents slept soundly and you could get away uninterrupted and unsupervised for secret little training sessions with one of the village elders, Teyoa, who was a total thorn in your side but he was the only one who agreed to train you. Your father was sure there was no need for such things as learning to fight or use an array of weapons for anything other than hunting– the Metkayina were not at war. But even from a young age, you were fascinated by the stories of warriors and the battle with the great Toruk Makto that the elders would secretly tell the children. You were sure you wanted to be a warrior, fight to defend your people. But being the oldest daughter of the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan meant there was a heavy responsibility on your shoulders. You were the tsakarem, destined to be the Tsahik one day– a far cry from your dream of being a warrior.

Then there was the total mess of having to be mated one day, you considered that to be absolutely appalling– of course, your mother would scoff and tell you off for being dramatic– but you did not want to be mated to some random boy in the village, all of which you had the utter displeasure of growing up with for the most part. You dreaded the day you passed your Iknimaya– which was a breeze by the way– but it also meant you would be an adult, able to be courted and approached by the absolute meatheads that lived in your village.

“He’s a nice boy,” your mother would comment as you rolled your eyes so far back you saw your equally displeased brain.

“He also gave Ao’nung a bald patch when we were children,” you scoffed, pulling on the intricate and almost suffocating neck piece your mother insisted you wear when boys began courting you. 

“Must you have an excuse for everything?” Ronal would sigh, pressing her hands together as if praying to Eywa for the strength to not throttle her eldest child.

“Mother, A’tok is boring at best. Father would not approve of him being the next Olo’eyktan,” you would reply with a shrug, finally untying the neck piece and replacing it with the simple beaded one Tsireya had made for you many eclipses ago. 

“Eywa, give me strength,” Ronal would mutter, eyes glancing up at the sky as she returned to the healing tent to tend to the wounded hunters. 

Your parents were sure you made it impossible on purpose. You would avoid courting boys from the village like the plague, using your sister or tsakarem duties as an excuse almost every time. But Tsireya loved love; she would point out some of the cute village boys that came to court you, noting the gifts they had bought or their kind demeanour– she was too sweet for her own good. You had dirt on almost everyone, noting the times some of the older boys had bullied Ao’nung or bad mouthed your sister or parents– you held a grudge. 

Your mother tried to busy you with tsakarem duties if you were so adamant on borderline bullying the Metkayina boys into leaving you alone. You found it boring at times, wishing you were out hunting or practising your weaponry skills with Teyoa. Of course, you wanted to honour your family and your clan, but you wanted to learn to defend the land and your spirit brothers and sisters the tulkun too. Interpreting the will and Eywa and being a healer wasn’t exactly where all the action was. Tsireya would have been a better tsakarem than you. You had heard of villages where sisters lead their clan alongside each other as Olo’eyktan and Tsahik– you would lead them in flesh and your sister could lead them in spirit. But that’s not how the Metkayina did things and Eywa forbid you mess with tradition. 

So you paid attention for the most part, learned to look for ripe fruits, herbs and created healing balms and practise healing techniques. But you found it so uninteresting and boring, but you loved your people and your parents, so biting your tongue and carrying on would be enough for now. 

But it only lasted so long before you wanted to sit at the bottom of the reef in an act of protest and ignore your never ending list of responsibility as the tsakarem. When you went around begging some of the elder warriors to train you, they feared the wrath of your parents (mostly your mother) and told you to stop behaving like a child. Teyoa thought you were amusing and decided to teach you, but his teaching methods were weird and required the patience you simply did not have.

“I do not see how hitting this poor defenceless bag of sand is effective,” you would grumble, burying the end of your staff into the sand, leaning on the thick weapon. Teyoa circled around you as you ‘fought’ this bag of sand, not even using a ‘real’ weapon as you so eloquently put it.

“You must be patient, child. A good warrior and hunter is patient,” he lectured, picking the staff up out of the sand and handing it to you. “Again.”

You let out a sound of annoyance before you forced the stance Teyoa had ingrained into the fabric of your soul, holding the staff toward your enemy (bag of sand) and beginning your usual fighting techniques. Teyoa had his arms crossed as he watched you, studying your form. You had a strong heart and will, always wanting to prove yourself and while he had never seen someone with such a keen heart, you were impatient but he was sure you would see it one day.

Your hands were always covered in blisters and small bruises from your training with Teyoa. He told you that warriors had tough hands, they needed the strength to wield any weapon and battle any odds. Your eyes would sparkle at the thought and you were always proud of the injuries from your hard work– though hiding it from your parents proved to be a challenge in itself. Teyoa knew he could probably get into trouble for teaching the Olo’eyktan’s daughter to fight, but you were so adamant and protective of your people, it was hard to say no.

That was the routine most days– rise early to train with Teyoa and be back before your parents even realised you were gone. You had gotten better at fighting, you would easily hold yourself in a fight and wanted to prove yourself to your father but seeking out a fight wasn’t exactly the mark of a good warrior.

“Where are you going?” Tsireya asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and you stopped dead in your tracks, turning painfully slowly to face your little sister.

“Nowhere,” you replied pathetically.

She gave you a look of confusion as her gaze shifted from your head to your feet. Your tail twitched anxiously as she watched you, “it doesn’t look like you’re going nowhere.”

“Go back to sleep, Reya,” you whispered, heading toward the entrance of your family’s marui. Tsireya stood up from her mat, wrapping her arms around herself as she met you in the middle of the marui. 

“I see you do this every morning, sister. You’re worrying me,” she pouted. You sighed softly in defeat, turning to face your sister.

“I’m seeing a boy–”

“Lie.”

“I do not lie,” you replied, offended. 

“You lie all the time,” Tsireya retorted, “and you do not like any of the Metkayina boys. I see through your lie and I demand you tell me the truth,” she said a little louder. 

You sighed, running your hands down your face. It was impossible to lie to your sister, she knew you too well. “I’ve been training with Teyoa.”

Tsireya battled with the confession for a moment, “the old warrior?” she questioned.

“Yes, he’s been teaching me,” you replied.

“Mother and father will not be happy,” Tsireya commented, folding her arms over her chest.

“I’m aware, hence the leaving at stupid times in the morning,” you said with a huff. Tsireya gave you that look she always gave when she was worried and you felt your heart squeeze. “I am careful, Reya. He has taught me many things, I feel I can defend our people and– and the tulkun.”

“We are not at war,” she quickly said, grabbing your hands and squeezing them in her own. “You do not need to fight. We are safe here–”

“The tulkun go missing, Reya. The other clans speak of their spirit brothers and sisters disappearing, I cannot let that happen,” you replied, holding Tsireya’s hands tightly. She looked at you with such worry in her eyes. “I feel it,” you said quietly, “I feel something is wrong, that something is coming.”

“You cannot be sure,” Tsireya sighed, shaking her head.

“I am the future Tsahik, sister. I think I know when Eywa speaks,” you teased. 

“You would be a good Tsahik,” she said after a beat, knowing how you felt about your duties as tsakarem. You smile at her words, cupping her cheek softly. She knew how you felt about your tsakarem duties, wishing so desperately to be a warrior instead of a healer. But you were soft when you wanted to be, she was convinced you would be an excellent Tsahik one day. 

“I must go,” you whispered, letting go of her hands. 

“Be careful,” Tsireya sighed, “you cannot be so sneaky forever.”

You turned around just before stepping outside your family’s marui, “watch me.”

You sat on the beach of the neighbouring island of Awa’atlu. Your legs were covered in sand as you worked on crafting your heavy bow. Metkayina preferred to use spears, but Teyoa taught you how to make a bow, a dying art in his opinion. You had been working on it for a couple of days in secret, not wanting your parents to find out you were spending your time making weapons instead of learning to perfect your healing techniques.

“Looks good,” Teyoa commented, holding a spear and woven basket of fish in his hands. You glanced up at him and let out a sigh.

“I cannot get the string tight enough, hardly a weapon for a warrior if you ask me,” you huffed, your fingers red and tired from the thin string that was steadily starting to wear at your poor fingers from how hard you’d been trying to pull it taut. 

Teyoa silently sat beside you on the sand, the heavily tattooed elder Metkayina fixing your sloppy handiwork in a matter of seconds. “Now it is a weapon fit for a warrior,” he grinned as he handed it to you. You stood up, feeling the weight of it in your hand. “It will take some getting used to–”

You lifted one of your crafted arrows, pulling the string taut before releasing it on an unsuspecting fish in the shallows of the reef. You ran toward the water, pulling the fish out with a grin on your face. Teyoa began to laugh softly.

“You overachieve,” he shook his head.

“Was that a compliment?” You teased.

“Hardly, child,” he chuckled. 

You practised your aiming skills in the shade of the forest, Teyoa occasionally correctly you but leaving you to practise for the most part. You definitely lost track of time because by the time you returned to the beach, the sun had risen over the vast horizon of Pandora, a grim reminder of the fact your parents were definitely awake and you were definitely not in the village.

“Oh, Eywa, no!” You almost yelled as you started running toward the beach, clicking your tongue to get your ilu’s attention. Teyoa stayed behind, picking up his woven basket full of fish he had caught earlier and watching as you scrambled through the water.

“I’d like to see you lie yourself out of this one!” Teyoa sang from behind you. He never took much seriously, he was too old (his words) to care much about ‘getting in trouble’. You, however, cared a lot. 

You dipped into the water with your ilu, quickly making tsaheylu as you tore through the water back toward your village– you were so dead and while your sister would try to cover for you; Tsireya was a pretty bad liar. Your ilu zipped through the coral reefs, pushing itself as hard as the poor animal could for your sake. You quickly surfaced, taking in a deep breath of air when you heard it– the loud horn you knew all too well.

That horn meant a few things: the tulkun were back, a ceremony was beginning or someone was missing, and given where you were and the fact that your parents had no idea, you were sure it was the latter. You dipped back before the surface, hoping and praying to Eywa your mother wouldn’t skin you for this one. 

You swam in through a small opening in the twisting branches around the reef, watching as your village gathered on the sandbank, probably copping a not-so-subtle interrogation from your father about your whereabouts before he sent out the search party. 

You definitely couldn’t lie your way out of this one.

Tsireya shifted anxiously as she stood by her brother, glancing around the crowd for you. She only half listened to her father as he spoke to these strangers from the forest, their sudden appearance in their village frightening the Metkayina. They were seeking uturu and while your father seemed to consider the idea, your mother scoffed at such an ask. 

After a few uncomfortable minutes, Tonowari made the decision to let Jake Sully and his family stay in their village. Tsireya knew it would be difficult for them as forest Na’vi learning the way of water, but she was eager to teach.

“Our children, Ao’nung, Tsireya and…” Tonowari let out a sigh as his eyes fell on only his two youngest, with you nowhere to be seen. Tsireya winced uncomfortably at her father’s gaze. He looked around for a moment before finishing, “they will teach your children our ways.”

“Where is your sister?” Ronal asked, pulling on Tsireya’s arm. Tsireya felt like she was going to explode, unable to form a single coherent thought that wouldn’t totally expose your little routine.

“I am here!” Your voice broke out across the beach, the crowd parting for you as you made your way toward your parents. You were out of breath, your chest huffing up and down and your hair a soaked mess from your panicked race home. “Mother, I am sorry, I–” You trailed off at the sight of foreigners in your village. You recognised them as forest Na’vi– why would forest Na’vi be here? There were six of them; a family. 

The forest was exceedingly far from your home in the reef and the family before you looked noticeably tired from their journey and you could only imagine how out of place they felt in your village. The youngest forest Na’vi looked at you curiously, hiding behind her father’s leg as she watched you, you smiled softly, the little Na’vi grinning back and holding her father’s leg. 

“My daughter,” your father said, your attention snapping back to him, “how nice of you to join us.”

You winced at the comment, some of the younger Metkayina snickering at the comment, your brother doing the same. Tsireya swatted at his arm, effectively shutting him up. You stepped toward your father, “Father, I–”

He held his hand up, silencing you. You were going to hear about this later, you were absolutely sure of it. “Help your sister move Jake Sully and his family into their marui,” he said lowly, to which you nodded, not daring to argue with him. “I want you to teach their children our ways,” he looked at Jake Sully and his family, “so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

Your father gave you a look, a look that silently asked you where you’d been while simultaneously telling you he didn’t want to hear it. Tsireya came to your rescue, quickly grabbing your hand and turning to smile at the forest Na’vi. “Come. We will show you our village.”

You walked alongside Tsireya through your village, watching as she peaked behind her occasionally at what you assumed was the youngest of Jake Sully’s sons. You followed her gaze, grinning softly at your adorable sister. She caught you watching her, becoming embarrassed. 

“What?” She questioned, completely unprompted.

“I said nothing,” you replied, trying not to laugh. You carried a few of the Sully’s belongings to the empty marui near the edge of the village, at least you could give them a little bit of privacy while they adjust to their new home. 

Tsireya shuffled into their marui, placing their things down, “this will be your new home,” she grinned sweetly. You trailed behind her, finally getting a good look at the entire forest family. You stared at them curiously, noticing their thin tails and arms, their darker blue skin and piercing yellow eyes. You had never seen Na’vi like this before and it intrigued you.

“Thank you, this is nice, right?” Jake turned to his mate and children, smiling through his wince as his mate dropped the rolled hide on the floor with a huff. Jake turned to you and your sister, “Thank you, Tsireya and… I’m sorry I don’t think I caught your name.”

Your ears perked at the sudden attention on you and you quickly told him your name, bowing your head softly. Your tail swished behind you as Jake introduced his family to you and your sister, “my mate, Neytiri,” she seemed displeased with the arrangement and was rather… intimidating. “My daughters Tuk and Kiri.” Tuk waved happily at you, to which you returned with a small smile while her sister Kiri seemed uncomfortable, pulling on the corners of her shawl. “And my sons Lo’ak and Neteyam.”

Tsireya smiled at the ground as Lo’ak caught her eye, smiling softly at your sister. But your eyes lingered on his oldest son, Neteyam. He watched you curiously and he was hard to read, he looked you up and down and you almost frowned. You stared back at him for a fleeting moment, wondering what his problem was.

“Right, well,” Tsireya said, pulling your attention to her, “we will leave you to settle and get some rest, we can go swimming in the reef later on,” she smiled politely, nodding her head as she grabbed your arm, pulling you out of their marui. 

You felt Neteyam looking at you as you left, turning your head to peek back at him. Eywa, what is his problem? You thought, making a face of disdain as you caught up with your sister. 

“What’s his problem?” You grumbled. You walked shoulder to shoulder with her as you made your way back to your parents in the middle of the village.

“You mean Neteyam?” Tsireya asked. You gave her a look and she giggled, “he was checking you out!”

“What? No, he wasn’t,” you frowned, a feeling of disgust pooling in your chest. Tsireya nudged your shoulder with a laugh.

“Oh, my sister. You may be a great warrior, a Tsahik in training and have a gift for scaring boys away, but he was definitely checking you out,” Tsireya babbled on and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t exactly unpopular when it came to boys wanting to court you, if anything, you did pretty well for yourself. But you simply weren’t interested in finding a mate any time soon, you were only sixteen, it felt ridiculous to rush into things (even though your parents pestered you about choosing a mate). 

“How ridiculous,” you retorted. “He is a forest Na’vi, we are reef Na’vi, I’m sure he was more preoccupied with our staggeringly different appearances,” you attempted to explain the reason for his lingering gaze but your sister really wasn’t having a bar of it. 

“Are you saying you didn’t think he was cute?” Tsireya asked, quirking a brow at you. You stopped in your tracks, giving her an unimpressed look. She let out a dramatic gasp, “you do think he’s cute!”

“I do not,” you retorted childishly.

“Do not lie!” She squealed. “I never thought I would see the day!”

“You pain me,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“My sister likes a boy!” She sang.

“I do not like him,” you grumbled as Tsireya danced circles around you with a grin on her face. She tugged on your arm as she jumped up and down with excitement. You would admit that he was cute but you were allowed to admire and ignore– that’s what you did best, because boys are usually cute until they open their big dumb mouths. 

a/n: hi! this is my first time writing for avatar, i hope you like it! i know there wasn't much of our teyam in this but there will be more! only if this does well tho :3

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[ma-yawntu]

mine, all mine.

chapter one: paradigm

pairing: neteyam x female!metkayina!reader

summary: Being the oldest daughter of the Olo'eytkan and the tsakarem meant you had a lot of weight on your shoulders. You had to be perfect, well-behaved and set an example for your clan, so sneaking out wasn't exactly checking any of those boxes. You had to pick a mate and honestly you couldn't think of anything worse– and to you, he was no exception.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: mentions of injury, weapons, sneaking out, you're a menace fr. NO USE OF Y/N!!!

now playing... home by good neighbours

metkayina face claims

chapter two

It was early in the morning, long before the sun peeked over the horizon and bathed the village of Awa’atlu in a soft golden hue. You were silent as you crept toward the entrance to your family’s marui, placing your feet ever so carefully as to not disturb your siblings and parents and undoubtedly cop a string of questions as to why exactly you were up so early. You’d lie your way out of it, as usual, but you would remain under suspicion for far too long. But by now, you had this sneaking out business down to a fine art. Your mother’s duties as Tsahik had her awake fairly early most mornings and your father– well, you were sure the entire village knew when he was asleep given his occasional thunderous snores that you heard even in your dreams (or nightmares depending on your persuasion). 

There was a short expanse of time when both your parents slept soundly and you could get away uninterrupted and unsupervised for secret little training sessions with one of the village elders, Teyoa, who was a total thorn in your side but he was the only one who agreed to train you. Your father was sure there was no need for such things as learning to fight or use an array of weapons for anything other than hunting– the Metkayina were not at war. But even from a young age, you were fascinated by the stories of warriors and the battle with the great Toruk Makto that the elders would secretly tell the children. You were sure you wanted to be a warrior, fight to defend your people. But being the oldest daughter of the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan meant there was a heavy responsibility on your shoulders. You were the tsakarem, destined to be the Tsahik one day– a far cry from your dream of being a warrior.

Then there was the total mess of having to be mated one day, you considered that to be absolutely appalling– of course, your mother would scoff and tell you off for being dramatic– but you did not want to be mated to some random boy in the village, all of which you had the utter displeasure of growing up with for the most part. You dreaded the day you passed your Iknimaya– which was a breeze by the way– but it also meant you would be an adult, able to be courted and approached by the absolute meatheads that lived in your village.

“He’s a nice boy,” your mother would comment as you rolled your eyes so far back you saw your equally displeased brain.

“He also gave Ao’nung a bald patch when we were children,” you scoffed, pulling on the intricate and almost suffocating neck piece your mother insisted you wear when boys began courting you. 

“Must you have an excuse for everything?” Ronal would sigh, pressing her hands together as if praying to Eywa for the strength to not throttle her eldest child.

“Mother, A’tok is boring at best. Father would not approve of him being the next Olo’eyktan,” you would reply with a shrug, finally untying the neck piece and replacing it with the simple beaded one Tsireya had made for you many eclipses ago. 

“Eywa, give me strength,” Ronal would mutter, eyes glancing up at the sky as she returned to the healing tent to tend to the wounded hunters. 

Your parents were sure you made it impossible on purpose. You would avoid courting boys from the village like the plague, using your sister or tsakarem duties as an excuse almost every time. But Tsireya loved love; she would point out some of the cute village boys that came to court you, noting the gifts they had bought or their kind demeanour– she was too sweet for her own good. You had dirt on almost everyone, noting the times some of the older boys had bullied Ao’nung or bad mouthed your sister or parents– you held a grudge. 

Your mother tried to busy you with tsakarem duties if you were so adamant on borderline bullying the Metkayina boys into leaving you alone. You found it boring at times, wishing you were out hunting or practising your weaponry skills with Teyoa. Of course, you wanted to honour your family and your clan, but you wanted to learn to defend the land and your spirit brothers and sisters the tulkun too. Interpreting the will and Eywa and being a healer wasn’t exactly where all the action was. Tsireya would have been a better tsakarem than you. You had heard of villages where sisters lead their clan alongside each other as Olo’eyktan and Tsahik– you would lead them in flesh and your sister could lead them in spirit. But that’s not how the Metkayina did things and Eywa forbid you mess with tradition. 

So you paid attention for the most part, learned to look for ripe fruits, herbs and created healing balms and practise healing techniques. But you found it so uninteresting and boring, but you loved your people and your parents, so biting your tongue and carrying on would be enough for now. 

But it only lasted so long before you wanted to sit at the bottom of the reef in an act of protest and ignore your never ending list of responsibility as the tsakarem. When you went around begging some of the elder warriors to train you, they feared the wrath of your parents (mostly your mother) and told you to stop behaving like a child. Teyoa thought you were amusing and decided to teach you, but his teaching methods were weird and required the patience you simply did not have.

“I do not see how hitting this poor defenceless bag of sand is effective,” you would grumble, burying the end of your staff into the sand, leaning on the thick weapon. Teyoa circled around you as you ‘fought’ this bag of sand, not even using a ‘real’ weapon as you so eloquently put it.

“You must be patient, child. A good warrior and hunter is patient,” he lectured, picking the staff up out of the sand and handing it to you. “Again.”

You let out a sound of annoyance before you forced the stance Teyoa had ingrained into the fabric of your soul, holding the staff toward your enemy (bag of sand) and beginning your usual fighting techniques. Teyoa had his arms crossed as he watched you, studying your form. You had a strong heart and will, always wanting to prove yourself and while he had never seen someone with such a keen heart, you were impatient but he was sure you would see it one day.

Your hands were always covered in blisters and small bruises from your training with Teyoa. He told you that warriors had tough hands, they needed the strength to wield any weapon and battle any odds. Your eyes would sparkle at the thought and you were always proud of the injuries from your hard work– though hiding it from your parents proved to be a challenge in itself. Teyoa knew he could probably get into trouble for teaching the Olo’eyktan’s daughter to fight, but you were so adamant and protective of your people, it was hard to say no.

That was the routine most days– rise early to train with Teyoa and be back before your parents even realised you were gone. You had gotten better at fighting, you would easily hold yourself in a fight and wanted to prove yourself to your father but seeking out a fight wasn’t exactly the mark of a good warrior.

“Where are you going?” Tsireya asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and you stopped dead in your tracks, turning painfully slowly to face your little sister.

“Nowhere,” you replied pathetically.

She gave you a look of confusion as her gaze shifted from your head to your feet. Your tail twitched anxiously as she watched you, “it doesn’t look like you’re going nowhere.”

“Go back to sleep, Reya,” you whispered, heading toward the entrance of your family’s marui. Tsireya stood up from her mat, wrapping her arms around herself as she met you in the middle of the marui. 

“I see you do this every morning, sister. You’re worrying me,” she pouted. You sighed softly in defeat, turning to face your sister.

“I’m seeing a boy–”

“Lie.”

“I do not lie,” you replied, offended. 

“You lie all the time,” Tsireya retorted, “and you do not like any of the Metkayina boys. I see through your lie and I demand you tell me the truth,” she said a little louder. 

You sighed, running your hands down your face. It was impossible to lie to your sister, she knew you too well. “I’ve been training with Teyoa.”

Tsireya battled with the confession for a moment, “the old warrior?” she questioned.

“Yes, he’s been teaching me,” you replied.

“Mother and father will not be happy,” Tsireya commented, folding her arms over her chest.

“I’m aware, hence the leaving at stupid times in the morning,” you said with a huff. Tsireya gave you that look she always gave when she was worried and you felt your heart squeeze. “I am careful, Reya. He has taught me many things, I feel I can defend our people and– and the tulkun.”

“We are not at war,” she quickly said, grabbing your hands and squeezing them in her own. “You do not need to fight. We are safe here–”

“The tulkun go missing, Reya. The other clans speak of their spirit brothers and sisters disappearing, I cannot let that happen,” you replied, holding Tsireya’s hands tightly. She looked at you with such worry in her eyes. “I feel it,” you said quietly, “I feel something is wrong, that something is coming.”

“You cannot be sure,” Tsireya sighed, shaking her head.

“I am the future Tsahik, sister. I think I know when Eywa speaks,” you teased. 

“You would be a good Tsahik,” she said after a beat, knowing how you felt about your duties as tsakarem. You smile at her words, cupping her cheek softly. She knew how you felt about your tsakarem duties, wishing so desperately to be a warrior instead of a healer. But you were soft when you wanted to be, she was convinced you would be an excellent Tsahik one day. 

“I must go,” you whispered, letting go of her hands. 

“Be careful,” Tsireya sighed, “you cannot be so sneaky forever.”

You turned around just before stepping outside your family’s marui, “watch me.”

You sat on the beach of the neighbouring island of Awa’atlu. Your legs were covered in sand as you worked on crafting your heavy bow. Metkayina preferred to use spears, but Teyoa taught you how to make a bow, a dying art in his opinion. You had been working on it for a couple of days in secret, not wanting your parents to find out you were spending your time making weapons instead of learning to perfect your healing techniques.

“Looks good,” Teyoa commented, holding a spear and woven basket of fish in his hands. You glanced up at him and let out a sigh.

“I cannot get the string tight enough, hardly a weapon for a warrior if you ask me,” you huffed, your fingers red and tired from the thin string that was steadily starting to wear at your poor fingers from how hard you’d been trying to pull it taut. 

Teyoa silently sat beside you on the sand, the heavily tattooed elder Metkayina fixing your sloppy handiwork in a matter of seconds. “Now it is a weapon fit for a warrior,” he grinned as he handed it to you. You stood up, feeling the weight of it in your hand. “It will take some getting used to–”

You lifted one of your crafted arrows, pulling the string taut before releasing it on an unsuspecting fish in the shallows of the reef. You ran toward the water, pulling the fish out with a grin on your face. Teyoa began to laugh softly.

“You overachieve,” he shook his head.

“Was that a compliment?” You teased.

“Hardly, child,” he chuckled. 

You practised your aiming skills in the shade of the forest, Teyoa occasionally correctly you but leaving you to practise for the most part. You definitely lost track of time because by the time you returned to the beach, the sun had risen over the vast horizon of Pandora, a grim reminder of the fact your parents were definitely awake and you were definitely not in the village.

“Oh, Eywa, no!” You almost yelled as you started running toward the beach, clicking your tongue to get your ilu’s attention. Teyoa stayed behind, picking up his woven basket full of fish he had caught earlier and watching as you scrambled through the water.

“I’d like to see you lie yourself out of this one!” Teyoa sang from behind you. He never took much seriously, he was too old (his words) to care much about ‘getting in trouble’. You, however, cared a lot. 

You dipped into the water with your ilu, quickly making tsaheylu as you tore through the water back toward your village– you were so dead and while your sister would try to cover for you; Tsireya was a pretty bad liar. Your ilu zipped through the coral reefs, pushing itself as hard as the poor animal could for your sake. You quickly surfaced, taking in a deep breath of air when you heard it– the loud horn you knew all too well.

That horn meant a few things: the tulkun were back, a ceremony was beginning or someone was missing, and given where you were and the fact that your parents had no idea, you were sure it was the latter. You dipped back before the surface, hoping and praying to Eywa your mother wouldn’t skin you for this one. 

You swam in through a small opening in the twisting branches around the reef, watching as your village gathered on the sandbank, probably copping a not-so-subtle interrogation from your father about your whereabouts before he sent out the search party. 

You definitely couldn’t lie your way out of this one.

Tsireya shifted anxiously as she stood by her brother, glancing around the crowd for you. She only half listened to her father as he spoke to these strangers from the forest, their sudden appearance in their village frightening the Metkayina. They were seeking uturu and while your father seemed to consider the idea, your mother scoffed at such an ask. 

After a few uncomfortable minutes, Tonowari made the decision to let Jake Sully and his family stay in their village. Tsireya knew it would be difficult for them as forest Na’vi learning the way of water, but she was eager to teach.

“Our children, Ao’nung, Tsireya and…” Tonowari let out a sigh as his eyes fell on only his two youngest, with you nowhere to be seen. Tsireya winced uncomfortably at her father’s gaze. He looked around for a moment before finishing, “they will teach your children our ways.”

“Where is your sister?” Ronal asked, pulling on Tsireya’s arm. Tsireya felt like she was going to explode, unable to form a single coherent thought that wouldn’t totally expose your little routine.

“I am here!” Your voice broke out across the beach, the crowd parting for you as you made your way toward your parents. You were out of breath, your chest huffing up and down and your hair a soaked mess from your panicked race home. “Mother, I am sorry, I–” You trailed off at the sight of foreigners in your village. You recognised them as forest Na’vi– why would forest Na’vi be here? There were six of them; a family. 

The forest was exceedingly far from your home in the reef and the family before you looked noticeably tired from their journey and you could only imagine how out of place they felt in your village. The youngest forest Na’vi looked at you curiously, hiding behind her father’s leg as she watched you, you smiled softly, the little Na’vi grinning back and holding her father’s leg. 

“My daughter,” your father said, your attention snapping back to him, “how nice of you to join us.”

You winced at the comment, some of the younger Metkayina snickering at the comment, your brother doing the same. Tsireya swatted at his arm, effectively shutting him up. You stepped toward your father, “Father, I–”

He held his hand up, silencing you. You were going to hear about this later, you were absolutely sure of it. “Help your sister move Jake Sully and his family into their marui,” he said lowly, to which you nodded, not daring to argue with him. “I want you to teach their children our ways,” he looked at Jake Sully and his family, “so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

Your father gave you a look, a look that silently asked you where you’d been while simultaneously telling you he didn’t want to hear it. Tsireya came to your rescue, quickly grabbing your hand and turning to smile at the forest Na’vi. “Come. We will show you our village.”

You walked alongside Tsireya through your village, watching as she peaked behind her occasionally at what you assumed was the youngest of Jake Sully’s sons. You followed her gaze, grinning softly at your adorable sister. She caught you watching her, becoming embarrassed. 

“What?” She questioned, completely unprompted.

“I said nothing,” you replied, trying not to laugh. You carried a few of the Sully’s belongings to the empty marui near the edge of the village, at least you could give them a little bit of privacy while they adjust to their new home. 

Tsireya shuffled into their marui, placing their things down, “this will be your new home,” she grinned sweetly. You trailed behind her, finally getting a good look at the entire forest family. You stared at them curiously, noticing their thin tails and arms, their darker blue skin and piercing yellow eyes. You had never seen Na’vi like this before and it intrigued you.

“Thank you, this is nice, right?” Jake turned to his mate and children, smiling through his wince as his mate dropped the rolled hide on the floor with a huff. Jake turned to you and your sister, “Thank you, Tsireya and… I’m sorry I don’t think I caught your name.”

Your ears perked at the sudden attention on you and you quickly told him your name, bowing your head softly. Your tail swished behind you as Jake introduced his family to you and your sister, “my mate, Neytiri,” she seemed displeased with the arrangement and was rather… intimidating. “My daughters Tuk and Kiri.” Tuk waved happily at you, to which you returned with a small smile while her sister Kiri seemed uncomfortable, pulling on the corners of her shawl. “And my sons Lo’ak and Neteyam.”

Tsireya smiled at the ground as Lo’ak caught her eye, smiling softly at your sister. But your eyes lingered on his oldest son, Neteyam. He watched you curiously and he was hard to read, he looked you up and down and you almost frowned. You stared back at him for a fleeting moment, wondering what his problem was.

“Right, well,” Tsireya said, pulling your attention to her, “we will leave you to settle and get some rest, we can go swimming in the reef later on,” she smiled politely, nodding her head as she grabbed your arm, pulling you out of their marui. 

You felt Neteyam looking at you as you left, turning your head to peek back at him. Eywa, what is his problem? You thought, making a face of disdain as you caught up with your sister. 

“What’s his problem?” You grumbled. You walked shoulder to shoulder with her as you made your way back to your parents in the middle of the village.

“You mean Neteyam?” Tsireya asked. You gave her a look and she giggled, “he was checking you out!”

“What? No, he wasn’t,” you frowned, a feeling of disgust pooling in your chest. Tsireya nudged your shoulder with a laugh.

“Oh, my sister. You may be a great warrior, a Tsahik in training and have a gift for scaring boys away, but he was definitely checking you out,” Tsireya babbled on and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t exactly unpopular when it came to boys wanting to court you, if anything, you did pretty well for yourself. But you simply weren’t interested in finding a mate any time soon, you were only sixteen, it felt ridiculous to rush into things (even though your parents pestered you about choosing a mate). 

“How ridiculous,” you retorted. “He is a forest Na’vi, we are reef Na’vi, I’m sure he was more preoccupied with our staggeringly different appearances,” you attempted to explain the reason for his lingering gaze but your sister really wasn’t having a bar of it. 

“Are you saying you didn’t think he was cute?” Tsireya asked, quirking a brow at you. You stopped in your tracks, giving her an unimpressed look. She let out a dramatic gasp, “you do think he’s cute!”

“I do not,” you retorted childishly.

“Do not lie!” She squealed. “I never thought I would see the day!”

“You pain me,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“My sister likes a boy!” She sang.

“I do not like him,” you grumbled as Tsireya danced circles around you with a grin on her face. She tugged on your arm as she jumped up and down with excitement. You would admit that he was cute but you were allowed to admire and ignore– that’s what you did best, because boys are usually cute until they open their big dumb mouths. 

a/n: hi! this is my first time writing for avatar, i hope you like it! i know there wasn't much of our teyam in this but there will be more! only if this does well tho :3

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[sage-green-matcha]

MASTER LIST <3 ☆

☆ <3 ETHAN LANDRY <3 ☆

MIRRORBALL - Ethan Landry x Swiftie reader LIGHT SMUT (kinda)

HANDS ON YOUR KNEES - Virgin! Ethan Landry x Experienced Fem! reader SMUT

OBSESSED - Ethan Landry x Obsessed GF SMUT

SPARE ME - Ethan Landry x Reader SMUT

SWEET LIKE CANDY - Ethan Landry x Victim reader SMUT

JEALOUS GIRL - Ethan Landry x gf! Reader

WE’RE NOT REALLY STRANGERS - Ethan Landry x Reader

PRINCESS TREATMENT- Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader SMUT

OUIJA - Ethan Landry X Reader playing with a Ouija Board

TIED UP - Ethan Landry X Fem! Reader bondage SMUT

TAKE IT- Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader SMUT

THINGS I WISH YOU SAID - Ethan Landry x Reader

THE PERFECT PAIR - Ethan Landry x Reader

WORLD IN COLOR - Ethan Landry x Reader LIGHT SMUT

NEIGHBOR - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader SMUT

CRULE SUMMER - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader LIGHT SMUT

PICTURE ME IN THE TREES - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader SMUT

KILL FOR YOU - gf!Ethan Landry x Fem!gf! Reader SMUT

FRIEND - gf!Ethan Landry x Reader

CAM BOY - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader SMUT

☆ <3 SHORT N SWEET <3 ☆

GO TO SLEEP - Ethan Landry x Reader

SWIFTIE - Ethan Landry x Reader

HAIR TIE - Ethan Landry x Reader

TOO GOOD FOR ME - Ethan Landry x Reader

LOVE LETTERS - love letters from Ethan! Ethan Landry x Reader

SMOKE SLOW - Stoner Reader X Newbie Ethan Landry

PRETTY IN PINK - Ethan Landry x coquette reader

NEW YEARS DAY - Ethan Landry x Reader

VAMPIRE- gf! Ethan Landry X Reader

SHAMELESS - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader SMUT

WHAT WAS I MADE FOR? - Ethan Landry x Reader

DESPERATE - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader SMUT

CUFFED - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader SMUT

LICK IT - Ethan Landry X Fem! Reader SMUT

DETENTION - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader SMUT

MOON CYCLE - Ethan Landry x Reader SMUT

PROUD OF YOU - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader

I HATE YOU - Ethan Landry x Reader LIGHT SMUT

MARK ME - Ethan Landry x Reader

TOUCH - Ethan Landry x Reader

FIGHT OR FLIGHT - Ethan Landry x Reader

STAB - Ethan Landry x Fem!Gf!Reader

BAD IDEA RIGHT? - Ethan Landry x Reader SMUT

AFFECTION - Ethan Landry x Reader

MORE - Ethan Landry x Reader SMUT

MAROON SERIES - Ethan Landry x Reader (Based on "Maroon" by Taylor Swift) 🥀

MAROON PT. 1 MAROON PT. 2 MAROON PT. 3

MAROON PT. 4 MAROON PT. 5 MAROON PT. 6

☆ <3 ZACH TURNER <3 ☆

RETRIBUTION - Zach Turner x Fem! Reader

☆ <3 JACK CHAMPION <3 ☆

SPILL YOUR GUTS OR FILL YOUR GUTS - Jack Champion x Fem! Singer Reader

NO TIME TO DIE - Jack Champion x Fem! Singer Reader

MEAN IT - Jack Champion x Songwriter GF is a

[iwritefandomimagines]

MORE THAN ENOUGH — ETHAN LANDRY

masterlist

pairing: ethan landry x f!reader

description: you’ve been hanging around the group more often lately, and they haven’t clocked the way you always end up leaving with ethan. when you overhear them doubting you’d ever date him, you decide to make a show of just how much your boyfriend means to you.

warnings: swearing, mindy is kinda being an asshole but i love her it just fits the plot, also they make popcorn like … impossibly fast at the end but i was not wasting time on popcorn making when i had FLUFF to write huh. no gf mentions !!!

author’s note: this has been almost finished for so long and i finally finished it today lmao. hope you enjoy!

“Hey E, when did Y/N say she was getting here?”

“What’re you asking him for?”

“Because obviously it’s him who’s going to know?”

You rolled your eyes at the argument between Mindy and Chad as you quietly paced down the hallway towards the lounge.

“Why is that obvious?” Mindy countered, and you could practically picture Ethan’s pout as he butted in now, “Why are you so sure she wouldn’t tell me?”

Mindy scoffed, “What, you know everything just because you have a massive crush on her? You probably just, like, stalk her or something.”

“I don’t stalk her—,”

“Okay, you just follow her round like a lost little puppy she has to deal with all the damn time,” Mindy snorted, “I’m just saying she’d have text the group chat, not just you.”

“Hey, that’s harsh,” Tara interjected, “Whether she’s out of his league or not, that’s not what the deal is here. They’re just as close as she is with you, if not closer. It makes sense she’d text him.”

You shook your head even though they still couldn’t see you, lingering just past the doorway and listening in as they talked.

“Why is this whole thing being blown out of proportion? He only asked when she’d get here, not for you to all talk about me like I’m a total loser she’d never be seen with,” you could hear that he was taking their words to heart as he tried to stick up for himself for once.

“Nobody said total loser,” Mindy shrugged, “But we’re just speculating. Chad talks about you two like a couple, and I’m simply reminding him that you’re obviously not.”

Anika put her hand on her girlfriend’s arm for a second, “Mindy, c’mon. You’re just being mean now.”

“I know she’s out of my league and I never said any different Mindy,” Ethan groaned, “Could we shut up about this already? She’ll be here any minute and I don’t need her hearing you talking about how pathetic I am.”

Mindy huffed, raising her arms in feigned surrender, “You said it, not me. Look, sorry, I’m not trying to be harsh I swear. Just no point in you getting your hopes up, is there?”

You took that as your cue, striding into the room and heading straight towards your boyfriend.

“Hey guys,” you hummed, throwing down your bag and plopping yourself down onto Ethan’s lap and curling your arms around his neck.

He looked perplexed, unsure why you waltzed in and made such a show of PDA all of a sudden, but his tense body relaxed under your touch regardless.

His hands curled around your waist as he shuffled back in his seat to make you both more comfortable, his voice shy as he responded, “Hey.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Mindy rose to her feet, “What?”

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the thousandth time, turning your head to shoot her a sickly sweet smile, “What?”

You could see Chad stifling a laugh, because he’d seen you sneak out of their dorm one too many times not to have figured out you were actually dating by now.

“Why are you—,”

“Sitting on my boyfriend’s lap? There’s no other seats, Minds,” you shrugged, fighting back a smirk as she went bug-eyed, “Oh, shit. I forgot we still hadn’t told you guys. My bad!”

Mindy fumbled over her words for a moment, still staring at you as your fingers twirled Ethan’s curls at the base of his neck and his fingers danced over the waistband of your jeans.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling warmth radiate from his skin as his eyes darted around the room for everyone’s reactions.

“Boyfriend? You’re together?”

Tara was grinning, “Nice!”

“Aw you guys,” Anika grinned, “That’s so cute. We can double date!”

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe if Mindy apologises for talking to Ethan like he’s the shit on the bottom of her shoe, yeah.”

“I’m sorry, I just—,”

“It’s fine, Mindy,” Ethan shrugged, nuzzling his face into your neck to hide away from the attention, “Can we just move on? At least you all know now.”

You frowned, pressing a kiss atop his curls as he remained close to you. You watched Mindy frantically search for the right words to say, before deciding to stay quiet.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, tension evident as Ethan’s grip on you seemed to tighten.

“It’s Ethan who’s been asking to keep things quiet, so thanks for the reminder of why,” you huffed, “Because you make him feel like he doesn’t deserve me. It’s not fair, Minds. At all. And you’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“I am your best friend!” Mindy replied, “I just didn’t expect this, that’s all. I’m sorry, okay? I’m happy for you guys. I really am.”

You scoffed, “Well maybe if you spent a little more time treating Ethan like an actual person and not some pointless side character in a, like, movie or whatever, you’d realise he’s a good person and that it’s me who doesn’t deserve him.”

You felt guilty for your outburst, and you could see that it had really driven your point home to Mindy, who was now staring at her feet shyly and snuggled in close to Anika.

You snuggled in closer to Ethan’s lap, interlacing your fingers as you did so. His hands were as warm as his face had become as a result of all of the attention, and you could tell he felt uncomfortable.

He did, however, enjoy the fact that everyone knew you were together now.

A sudden bout of confidence sparked in him as he pulled your joined hands up to kiss the back of yours, “Whatever. Whether she’s out of my league or not, she’s my girlfriend. Now let’s just put the stupid movie on, yeah?”

Everyone nodded silently, tension still thick in the air as Mindy picked up the remote control, but before she could press play you hopped back up out of your boyfriend’s lap.

“Oh, I brought popcorn,” you exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him up as you picked up your bag again too, “We’ll go make it really quick. Won’t be long.”

Ethan followed you into the kitchen, your hands still interlocked, and smiled confusedly at you as you hopped up onto the counter beside the stovetop and quickly began preparing the popcorn.

“Sorry about that,” you bit your lip, watching him carefully as he sauntered to your side and placed a palm on your hip, taking control of the popcorn making, “I overheard the conversation and got really pissed off. Also just missed you and wanted to be annoyingly PDA’y… Is that alright?”

He scoffed, “Are you kidding? I only wanted to keep it from them because they don’t think I deserve you and I didn’t want you realising they’re right… I’m like, so happy, that I can kiss you around them now. So happy.”

You pouted, “I hate that you think that too, though. You more than deserve me, Eth. And I’m really lucky to have you.”

His thumb rubbed at the skin of your waist just beneath your top as his other hand shook the popcorn as it heated up.

“You’re the best, Y/N,” he hummed, pecking your lips quickly before refocusing on the popcorn, “I kinda wish we could just go to mine or something instead. I’m not in the mood for anyone else’s company anymore.”

You leaned in to kiss him, a hand carding through his curls briefly as he took the popcorn off the heat and set it aside, turning off the hob. His hands then flew back to your waist, settling himself between your parted legs to kiss you properly.

“I wish we could just go to yours too. We’ll dip as soon as the movie ends, yeah?” you grinned, biting your lip as you pulled back from the kiss, “We can deal with them asking questions another day. ‘M more in the mood to just curl up with you.”

He nodded, “Me too. Sounds like a plan. And thank you, for tonight, seriously. I’m not exaggerating when I say how lucky I am to have you.”

You shook your head, “You’re my boyfriend, and I’m proud of that fact. Mindy just needs to get her head out of her ass sometimes. I’m sorry they’re so shitty to you sometimes, it’s pathetic.”

He kissed you quickly again, scooping your waist to pull you down from the counter to stand beside him.

“Honestly at this point I don’t care anymore,” he shrugged, “I’ve got you. Oh, but please don’t agree to any double dates without me. No offence, but a double date with Mindy and Anika would be, like, my personal hell.”

You giggled, shaking your head again, “We’ll work on her weird unnecessary disdain for you, babe. But of course, I understand. C’mon, we better get back in there.”

“Can’t we just stay in here instead?”

“I wish.”

“Ugh,” he huffed, an adorable pout gracing his features that almost made you give in and make up an emergency reason for you both to leave, “At least we get to cuddle this time. I’m sick of you always having to sit away from me.”

You chuckled, “You do tend to watch me from across the room like a lost puppy. It’s adorable. In fact, I’m surprised nobody ever notices me doing the exact same thing back. We’ve been totally obvious this whole time.”

He kissed you again, briefly and feverishly like he couldn’t stop himself, “Our friends are idiots, huh.”

“Absolute morons,” you smiled, kissing him one final time before grabbing the popcorn and his hand.

“Let’s go get through a movie, hey?”

———

thanks for reading !!!

i hope this was okay, it felt a bit messy and shit when i was editing but i’ve been stuck on it so long so thought i’d post and then maybe come back to it? let me know what you thought!

feel free to request more, i’ve been chaotic with which old drafts i’m finishing lately but my requests are still open — and here’s my masterlist!