You never expected to see him again – but if it had to happen, you never expected it to be here. (PREVIOUS FRIENDS -> STRANGERS/ONE-SIDED ENEMIES -> FRIENDS AGAIN -> LOVERS)
tw: mentions of blood, a knife, hospitals, references to mental illness, mentions of psychiatric care, mentions of non prescription meds LOL, metaphor of an injury, it’s set in squid games so that is kinda expected.
(WHERE ARE MY FREAK NASTY TOUCH STARVED BITCHES. MENTALLY ILL POS DRUGGIE LOVERS RISEEEEE)
Chapter 1: 2.6k words
The stinging, antibacterial smell of tile was something you were all too used to. You couldn’t even find it in you to feel surprised, at first, waking up in that godforsaken room; encased by beds all around you, the walls a white and green pattern that was far too cheerful for the situation.
Even here, with all these other losers, you scoffed at their stupidity as they stood, looking around in shock. Anyone who thought that signing up for an undisclosed game for money was going to put them in a safe situation is deluded, you thought. Anyone who didn’t feel a sense of dread upon seeing the gray van pull up to the meeting point, in the dark, alone, their breath freezing in the air…was an idiot.
The same numb feeling encased you now, seeing that your clothes had been stripped of you and replaced, along with your belongings, as it had encased you when you saw the narcoleptic gas billowing from the car vents last night. Maybe it was the all-too-sterile environment around you that comforted you, knowing that blood had been spilt already, and you would not be the first. All in all; you weren’t surprised by anything that had happened in the last 24 hours. Playing stupid games, winning stupid prizes, it all didn’t matter when the only other alternative was to end it all.
Curiosity pricked your mind, however, when personnel emerged, wearing masks, each adorned with a shape. The shapes differed – some had a triangle, some a square – but all of them wore the same, uniform, pink tracksuit.
You climbed down from the bunk bed, eyes squinting from the light bouncing intensely off the bright white and green walls. You knew you should focus on the personnel, but their pink clothes hurt your eyes the worst. Everything was in too much color.
“Hello, everyone, and welcome,” the front guard, wearing a square mask, began. As he tried to begin, shouts of dissent erupted from the crowd.
“Hey, where are my clothes?”
“Did you drug us? In that van?!”
“Where are our phones? I need to text my parents - they don’t know I’m here…”
If you have a family, why be here? Why resort to something as hopeless as this? You thought. You focused on the ground, trying to avoid the color bursting from around you - but even your sneakers were squeaky white and clean.
Out of the sea of people, a complaint stood out to you from them all.
“What about my shoes? Those were limited fucking edition!”
For the first time, from the time you were smacked in the face by a man in a suit who offered you money to play a children’s game, to being drugged in a van and waking up in this sterile bell-jar, a shudder of shock ran down your body, freezing to the bottom of your spine.
“All of your belongings are being kept safely. They will be returned to you once the games are over.”
“And what if something happens to them, huh?! You gonna pay for them?”
“Like I said, all belongings, including clothes, shoes, electronics, and anything else, will be returned after the games.”
“You motherf—”
The screen above the guard flashed to life, showing a video clip of that violet-haired idiot staring at the screen with challenge flashing in his eyes, taking a hit from his blue and yellow vape.
It really was him.
“--Player 230, Choi Su-Bong, debt of 1.9 billion won.”
Your shock had faded slightly from that point, and resignation had taken its place. It was unlikely to see him here, but yes – very like him to do. That fucking idiot.
“Kim Hyun Ju, debt of 1.2 billion won. Kang Mi-na, debt of 850 million won.”
As the guard continued to name and berate each person who had spoken up, you turned your head in the direction of where that idiots’ shout had come from.
A shock of violet carved into your vision through the sea of brown and black hair. You couldn’t help it - you stared. Even after being humiliated, his eyebrows raised sharply in challenge, his lips somewhere between a pout and a grimace, like a petulant child. His hand messed absently with the zipper at the top of his green tracksuit, and – as if the amount of color wasn’t enough – his nails were painted an array of bright colors.
You studied his hand as it twitched absently on the zipper. You could recognize his hands just as easily as his face. They were hard to miss, as he never talked without waving them around in ridiculous, emphatic expressions, or without holding a substance to his mouth. The vein that trailed up the back of his right hand disappeared into the green cuff of his jacket, and you knew – you could picture – where it continued to go, and where it ended, under the fabric.
His hand stilled. You shifted your gaze back up to his face, to find him looking back at you.
You fixed your expression into one of indifference as fast as possible, but you knew your eyes had given you away. You turned your eyes back to the front as naturally as possible, forcing your neck to slow the movement and appear natural. Your heart rate raised slightly, and you knew Su-bong too well to doubt that his eyes were definitely burning through the back of your head.
The guard began to talk about the games themselves, drawing your attention back to the front. The guards ordered people into lines to sign the consent forms, and you shifted idly to your right to suit a line. As you crept up to the front, you saw out of the corner of your eye the same unkempt violet hair swaggering to the front of the line, as player 124 grabbed player 333 by the shoulder next to him.
“The amazing Myung-gi from MG Coin? Right?” 124 spoke.
“...Who are you?” you heard 333 ask him nervously.
“You may not know me, but I know you, MG Coin,” Thanos spoke up. “I was subscribed to your channel.”
You can see Su-Bong shift closer to 333, who backs nervously away by a step.
“And I lost a shitload of money, asshole,” Thanos’ voice drops as he sidles closer to 333.
“As did I,” 124 chimed in.
You couldn’t help but have the edge of your mouth quirk up a bit. It made complete sense that Thanos would lose everything to something as brainless as a crypto scam. At least he wasn’t the only one – his new groupie was now eyeing the scammer with the same predatory smile.
“...You’ve got the wrong person,” 333 responded unconvincingly, trying to walk past them. Thanos pressed a large hand firmly to 333’s shoulder, holding him in place.
Good fucking luck, dude, you thought out to the scammer – player 333. Not only was he the smallest of the three, but it was clear from Su-bong’s body language that he was still as apt to pick a fight as he used to be. In highschool and college, he only ever won fights more than half the time – and usually, that had been from enlisting more groupies, as player 124 had turned into now – but whether he lost or won, he never lost the pettiness and gall needed to elicit one.
“I watched your content all day, every day,” Thanos continued. “Now I even see you in my dreams, motherfucker.”
He set his elbow on 124’s shoulder.
“Your name is Nam-su, right?”
“-Gyu, Nam-gyu, remember? From Club Pentagon.”
“Ah, right, right,” Su-bong responded airily.
You jerked your attention from them, read the consent form diligently, and quickly marked your name. Forcing your head away from the child’s fight Thanos was picking, you hung at the back of the room, waiting for new directions. You thought about how he had met your eyes earlier, and couldn’t help the stab of bitterness you felt that he hadn’t indicated his recognition since.
You took a deep breath of the sterilized air, and closed your eyes. For a second, you were happy to imagine yourself back between those white walls, the beeping of machines, the creak of those old hospital doors opening and shutting. When you wiggled your toes, you could almost imagine the feel of the tile on your sock-clad feet. The only sort of freedom you got in a place like that – to walk around in just socks.
“Señorita, excuse me,”
Your head snapped up, meeting his eyes. Close. He was so colorful, and so close. He raised his hands to his chest, pressing his palms against himself.
“Not gonna say hi?”
“You didn’t,” you reply as evenly as possible. He hadn’t really done anything, and he already felt like a thorn lodged under your skin.
He scoffed, switching back to Korean, his voice taking on his usual air of petulance.
“Hey, you saw me first. You were watching me pretty hard…” he dipped his voice, and you made yourself stay still as he leaned closer. The scent of his body hit you like a ton of bricks, carved through you like glass. Just how it used to be. The faint, sour scent of man-made stimulants and hallucinogens. A cologne far too macho and expensive for his style, or his bank account. Coupled with the perfumed smell of hair product, he travelled coolly through your sinuses, filling your head with the heady scent of him, him, him.
“It’s hard to miss you with that nauseating fucking dye job,” you say bitterly, and he laughs.
“Wow, so mean,” he says, clutching his chest and bending his knees so his face is level with yours. “You’re not still hung up on-”
“--Attention, players. Please line up and follow the path into the hallway as marked. Player identity photos will be taken before the first game begins.”
You brush past him, clipping him with your shoulder as you do so. You hear player 124 ask him a question, but if Thanos responds, you don’t hear. You file into the middle of the line, away from the way he overwhelmed every sense you had.
…….
The hallways were even worse than the dorm. You reminded yourself to feel grateful for the white linoleum when you went back later as you messed with the end of your braid. As you observed everyone lining up to take their photos in a line of booths, commotion and grumblings of discomfort arised from over your right shoulder. You turned your head to see Thanos and Nam-gyu pushing their way ahead in line.
He stopped when he pushed far enough to be in line with you, rolling his shoulders back as he swaggered. You saw him look at you from your periphery – you could even see his jaw work and roll. God knows how much dental work he’s gotten from substance abuse at this point. His underbite was definitely slightly worse than you remember. You ignored his gaze.
“What’s going on with you? No hello for your old frie-”
A lanky, sharp-featured man appeared from a line over from Su-bong, peeking over his shoulder.
“You’re Thanos, the rapper,” the man said lowly. Thanos looked him up and down in surprise.
“Oh, shit!” the man said in surprise, bursting into one of Thanos’ verses. He pointed at Thanos knowingly. “The runner up from the Rap Battleground Final!”
Thanos’ expression turned to face forward, closing off from you. As everyone shuffled forward in line, you stole a glance at him. His expression was pained, distant.
The man persisted. “I’m Gyeong-su, big fan. I’ve been to several of your concerts, please take a picture with me…” the man begged quickly as Thanos started to step towards the photo booth. Many other people felt comfortable approaching after Gyeong-su had, and they chimed in.
“Me too!”
“Me too, please!”
It didn’t take any sort of feat to see the way Su-bong’s expression brightened with confidence and ego, but it made your heart twist all the same, seeing him try to fix his face and pretend to be irritated by their request instead of elated. It reminded you of who he was before, when he’d been himself, not this caricature of Su-Bong – Thanos – standing before you.
Nevertheless, nostalgia hit you seeing him not-so-humbly accept a photo with the players, and you felt faint surprise at how many people continued to push past you to join in, even more that young adults still remembered who this washed-up rapper was.
Suddenly, Su-bong’s head turned, his cool brown eyes meeting yours. He extracted his hand from the herd of crowded bodies, beckoning towards you with two fingers curling towards himself. He jerked his head to the space next to him.
“Hey, I don’t mind having one more person.”
You raised your eyebrow in slight offense.
“Come on,” he encouraged again in English, turning his fingers up and back to the floor, as if he expected you to comply with ease.
A ding sounded from in front of you, and you released the end of your braid, turning to see a guard beckoning you in to take your photo. You rolled your eyes at Thanos’ offer and walked into the booth, missing his slightly deflated expression. As you emerged a moment later, you caught the end of 124 ushering the other players away from the rejected photo, just soon enough to catch Thanos raising his hands to flip off the camera. The way his lip curled was so reminiscent of his stage mannerisms, you had to look away.
Was it bad, you thought to yourself, that he was throwing you off more than the scent of antibacterial liquid masking blood had in that dormitory? That his voice set you more at unease than the modulated ones behind masks? Or was it simply your body adjusting to the whiplash that was experiencing someone again that once had been normal, and yet had long ceased to be?
“I’ve got five days to bother you, I’ll get you to talk,” he commented as he sidled up to you, running his palms over the flat sides of his bright hair. You glanced up, catching his profile as he fell into step with you. For once, he didn’t turn to face you, instead pretending to be fixated on seeing what lay ahead in the hallway. Although, he didn’t need to look back at you; the sight of his upturned smirk told you enough. It nauseated you. Or, maybe it was just the sickening amount of color and detail about him that sickened you. His violet fucking hair, spiked like he’d rolled out of bed – the thick black tattoo that ran from his neck, to his hand, and disappeared down his back – his fingernails, painted neon, individually, with care – that heady scent of powdered drugs and rich cologne – even his pooling brown eyes that threatened to fool you, weaken you. If anyone was to make someone feel sick through experience alone, it’d be him, you thought bitterly. He cut through reason like a knife, and carved his name on you like he deserved to own everything. After all of these years, you felt him again, in the last place you wanted. Running a blade over the long-faded scars of where his name was once etched into your traitorous, weak soul.
(I’ve written fics for YEARS but never posted on tumblr! Sorry the format is jank - but if literally one person reads this I’ll die happy. THANKS LOVE Y’ALL)
i love you gothic literature. i love you doomed romance. i love you ghosts and decay. i love you vampires and blood. i love you manors and crypts. i love you cemeteries and haunts. i love you unsettling themes. i love you cynicism of the human experience. i love you monsters unaware of their horrors until confronted with them.
3.7 k words | Choi Su-Bong (Thanos) x fem!reader |
You never expected to see him again….but if it had to happen, this was the last place you thought you’d find him.
Note: haven’t read part one? It’s pinned on my page!!
tw: mentions of psych wards, suicide, drugs, violence, death, basically the usual content of squid game
You filed along with everyone else into a large room with 3 massive sets of double doors, which quickly opened as soon as everyone was inside. You raised a hand to cover your eyes as the horde of people were ushered out into a field, hot with sunlight. There was something at the end of the field, not completely discernable, but it trumped the guards standing next to it in size.
“The first game is Red Light, Green Light,” a voice echoed from the loudspeakers.
“Red Light, Green Light?” you murmured to yourself. Thanos looked around, unconcerned.
“Seems easy enough,” he bent and whispered to you. You ignored him.
As the directions from over the loudspeaker quieted, a player broke from the crowd, waving his arms and yelling. The number on his back read 456 – one of the first people to speak up earlier that morning.
“Everyone! Listen closely! This is not just a game! If you lose, you die!” the player, a severe looking man in his early fifties, bellowed.
“We’ll die?” someone around you scoffed, leading the crowd into a cacophony of dissent towards the player. Your gaze pierced 456’s expression. Genuine terror and dread marred his face. You could see how his hands shaked with the emphatic quality of his gestures. These games were clearly sinister, that had already been apparent; it didn’t surprise you to hear this man ardently warning the players of something so dire, and yet, a prick of dread bloomed in your stomach at the sight of 456’s expression. Su-bong glanced over at you.
“The old man is just trying to get under everyone’s skin. It’s a competition, isn’t it?” he said with ease written on his face. You glanced at him absently, your mind working a million miles an hour to keep up with the possibilities of how these games began to play out. You were nonplussed at the fact that Su-bong could be so casual.
However, Su-bong’s ease was beginning to falter, as did the crowds’ while 456 explained the figure at the end of the field. A large, uncanny looking robot doll-child.
“The doll’s eyes are motion sensors! If they see you moving after Red Light is called, you’ll die!”
A saran wrap of dread began to suffocate the players as 456 continued to warn and instruct the horde.
“The game will now begin,” the voice echoed over the loudspeaker. The mechanical whirring of the doll turning its back smoothly to the crowd unnerved you. Even when these games had been the last choice you had met yourself with at the end of your life, your weak human heart was beginning to kick into self-preservation.
You poised yourself to move, Thanos mirroring you.
“Green light!”
The horde advanced as one, everyone keeping their eyes trained on 456.
“Red Light!”
“Freeze!” 456 roared, his hands poised out in caution. “Stay still!”
Silence from the crowd followed his words, making Su-bong’s faint breathing seem deafening. Out of your periphery, his cocky, easy smirk was still visible.
“Green Light!”
The crowd continued to advance as 456 urged everyone to freeze each turn. His ardor was matched by the now cautious crowd, and after six rounds, no one had been eliminated.
As everyone froze again and the doll, now more in focus, whirred to face the fake tree, something caught your periphery. Looking ahead to your left subtly, you saw a bee buzz and land near the back of Player 196’s neck. Thanos’s eyes flickered to her, a subtle smile curling his lips.
“What’s on me?” you heard Player 196 whisper into the crowd.
“It can tell a flower when it sees one,” Thanos whispered. “There’s a bee on you.”
“A bee?!” Player 196 shrieked, making you tense. She let out a yelp as she waved her hands erratically, and you felt a chill run through you. The seal had been broken.
In her fervor, Player 196 had spun to face you and Thanos. She smiled at him, her eyebrows drawn together in both relief and amusement.
“Oh, I moved….I guess I’m supposed to die now…” she let out a breathy laugh, her eyebrows cocked in amusement.
A pop sounded from the far wall of the arena, but it reverberated like it was coming from everywhere. Something wet smattered across your cheek and all over Thanos’ body, decorating his face in tiny, red pinpoints, his shoulders and neck with errant splotches.
Player 196 crumpled to the ground, and your body, whether from shock or desperation to stay alive, stayed icily frozen – as did Thanos’.
Ahead, another player moved so slightly, and caught sight of the body. An ear-piercing shriek of terror reverberated as loud as the gunshot through the arena, and you willed your legs not to shake in terror as bodies began to move around you and more shots resounded throughout the room. The cacophony could not have lasted more than one minute, but it felt like eternity holding still, willing yourself to hold your head above water, even as the rush of terror threatened to make you pass out and lose. You focused on the thought that Thanos, painful and cutting, was next to you, your only tie to anything normal outside of this arena – the first time in at least a decade you’d ever felt relieved by his presence.
Green Light was called, and you advanced even quicker than before, thinking to endure as few rounds as possible to ensure survival. You couldn’t remember the last time you had fought for life like this, though you knew it was the last time you were faced with only death in front of you. But that had been many years ago yet.
You knew this was going to happen, you soothed yourself as your heartbeat rushed through your ears and everyone advanced. Noticing Su-bong wasn’t moving, you turned your body over your right shoulder slightly as Red Light was called. He was poised delicately, his facade finally gone as his eyes, wide and afraid, settled unblinkingly upon the large rosary in his hand. You hadn’t even noticed it under his tracksuit until now. His fingers held suspended as if he was about to open it, and you could see the perspiration gathering on his sunlit cheekbone.
Green Light was called again, and you walked forward, your head still cocked over your shoulder. With an air of desperation, Thanos deftly opened his huge cross necklace and plucked out a small bright pill, popping it in his mouth. You saw his shoulders relax and his eyebrows drop, as if the high had already kicked in just from the oral fixation.
“Fucking junkie,” you murmured as you fixed your gaze back on the doll.
By the next turn, Thanos had caught up to you, his cocky smirk replaced by a manic, mischievous smile.
“Feel better?” you mocked, the bitterness rising in you. He cocked an eyebrow at you, raising his eyebrows in challenge.
“Everyone!” Player 456 yelled again, his arm bent against his face to cover the motion of his speech.
“Get behind someone bigger than you! The doll can only see what is directly visible to it!” he implored, demonstrating by opening and closing his fist behind his back.
“Grab on, señorita,” Thanos teased you, getting behind a line of people as the dwindling horde advanced. You crouched behind him, using all six-feet-plus of him to your advantage. Self preservation had officially won over your pride.
Two more turns passed with little incident, when Thanos’ voice bloomed in a whisper from in front of you.
“This is getting boring,” he said airily. You didn’t deign to give him a response, unsure if he was even speaking to you. His voice had taken on the light tone of someone who was beginning to float too high from Earth, and you had learned a long time ago that it didn’t really matter if you responded to him at this point.
“Red Light!’ the doll called. Your eyes were tracking up over Thanos’ head, looking for where the shots could be firing from, when you saw him subtly cock his head towards you, concealed by the back of the person ahead of him. He flashed you a smirk, and you nearly opened your mouth, when his arms extended, sending the whole line of people ahead of him yelping and toppling. Your whole body locked up, but your eyes flickered to his face as a smattering of shots rained on the fallen forms.
“Ding!” he smiled, raising his eyebrows at the fallen bodies. A manic smile had overtaken his face. Oh, how many times you’d seen that look on him – and not the first with blood smattering his sharp features. In his high, did he understand what he was doing? There were way too many times it had gone one way or another, and sometimes it was impossible to tell. But seeing the sort of people that made up this group…you weren’t as sad as you could be. It was already every man for themselves, and if you lived through this, you had no doubt it would get worse.
“Crazy bastard,” you whispered as Green Light was called. Thanos started running ahead of the whole crowd, dancing and hollering and making a fool of himself, as always. You focused on the finish line, blood rushing to your brain now that he was past you and you were completely exposed.
Within 3 more turns, you had crossed the line.
A cold embarrassment washed over you as the adrenaline started to subside. After years of thinking you were slowly ticking towards a death at your own hands, you still found yourself floundering for survival in a game like this. You licked your clean sleeve and smeared away as much of the blood off your cheek as you could sense.
Thanos nudged your shoulder. His face was back at ease, but a wide-eyed, drug-induced detachment now came from them. You took a step away from him.
“Aw, what’s the stonewalling for, huh? I haven’t heard from you in years and you’re going to pretend like we’re strangers?”
“Aren’t we?” you cut coldly, looking away from him. From your periphery, his expression seemed downcast for a split second, making your eyes dart to meet him in curiosity; but by the time you looked at him, he had schooled his expression again. It made you question if the crack in his mask had even been there to begin with.
“No, we aren’t,” he said decisively, his voice even and calm. He bent down, looking into your eyes a little closer. “I still know exactly how to get to you,” he said slowly, his eyes flicking down, as if assessing any changes to your person he hadn’t yet seen. He looked away from you, something thoughtful in his expression, then turned on his heel and went to harass Nam-gyu.
That’s one of the things you used to hate the most about him; quick to latch on; quick to leave. But now, the sight of him leaving puts a little more ease into your shoulders. You weren’t sure if disbelief and shock were the reason for your calmness, or if life had simply shocked you one too many times to leave you disillusioned at anything.
As you walked back to the dorms with the rest of the horde who were chittering and walking nervously following their near demise, your brain had started to sift back through old memories. The bright, even colors on the hall walls reminded you so clearly of the children’s ward where you spent as many hours as you could spending time with the kids in even shittier situations than you. Seeing one of them go was always the only thing that could shake you. And even then, that lost its edge on your emotions over time as you got used to it.
Su-bong, though, never lost that effect on you. He was always just too much.
It wasn’t very often that you saw someone else like that in the psychiatric care ward. Although at the time he was just a combative 20-something with an awkward, grown out black buzz cut, he had every bit of the makings of a shit-talking fight-starting rapper even back then. You still remember how he sidled up to you while you were sitting against the wall, running his hand over the fluff sticking out of his head.
“Psst, hey, girl,” he whispered. “Where the fuck do they keep your shit once they take it?”
“No clue,” you had answered flatly.
“Aw, c’mon, I know you know,” he smirked. “That look on your face tells me exactly how long you’ve been here. Or at least, how many times you’ve been here. What is this, your fourth rodeo?”
Your eyebrow quirked, eyes shooting his direction briefly as you toyed with your plastic cup. “I thought you said you knew exactly how long I’d been here.”
He laughed, tightly, almost like it was in spite of himself. “I do. A You-know-where-our-shit’s-at amount of time.”
You chanced a real look at him. He was still looking expectantly at you. You sighed and stood up, leaning against the wall.
“I’ve tried,” you said after a moment. “You won’t get in.”
“Aww, you underestimate me, girl. What’s your name?”
“What are you even doing here? They let you in the children’s ward?”
“Let is a word, I don’t know if it’s the word-”
You slammed a forearm across his chest, pinning him to the hallway wall.
“Ow, you bitch-!”
“If you’re thinking of causing trouble down here-”
“-I never said that! I’m just looking for my stuff!”
You let him go.
“-Christ, you fucking bruised me…”
“I hope I did. And I’ll tell you right now it’s not here.”
“-Damn, girl…the fuck…”
You eyed him a bit. “I care a lot about them. Lots of them have drug problems like I can already tell you do. I won’t let you even think about being friendly with them.”
He looked offended. Hurt, even. “I’d never- coercing kids is just….you don’t know me.”
“No?” You challenged. You stared at him in his brown eyes. He stared back, still rubbing his chest where my elbow dug in.
“No. Why in the fuck would you get the idea I was trying to give drugs to kids? Especially here? Where am I getting those?” He questioned, throwing out an arm in a gesture of exasperation.
You sighed. “Obviously not giving them drugs, but…seeing older users who clearly aren’t on a road to recovery makes it easier to stay in the cycle.”
“Oh, and I bet you’re a perfect role model, huh?” he murmured.
You nodded in response, curling your lip in acknowledgement. “That’s fair. But I’m not a druggie. Never have been.”
He laughed. “You’re not living, girl.”
“No, and doing drugs won’t change that. I haven’t been alive for a long time. Neither have you,” You looked at him. The sparkle in his eye wavered. You felt a pang of disdain at yourself. In a way, this guy was a kid too. Maybe your same age, but for whatever reason, still a child. You sighed.
“What’s your name?” You asked.
“Oh, now she wants to know….” he offered his hand up high, for a dap-up. You didn’t take it. “I have my stage name, but my civilian name is Su-bong. Choi Su-bong. Rapper, performer, ladies’ man.”
“You have a stage name?” You asked drily.
“Yeah. Thanos,” He smiled. “It will make a lot more sense once I get out of here, and can look right. This,” He gestured at himself in his beat up gray sweatpants and black t-shirt. “Is not me. I got 30 million won in clothes and jewelry they took off me!” He pointed to his body and ears, devoid of all accessories except for black rubber spacers for his gauges.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You said after scanning him. This guy doesn’t have a buck to his name.
“Trust me, when I get my shit back, I can show you who Thanos really is.”
Your lip curled in irritation. “I’m good.”
He never did get his shit back – not until he left, at least. Which was after you did, surprisingly. But after that, he just sort of became part of your life after tracking you down, which was a whole other story. Those were the better days.
Once you were back in the huge communal bedroom, you went to sit back in the cot you woke up in, and the change in scenery broke your reverie. It wasn’t long after that attention was called for some sort of ‘vote’, and you all gathered in the center of the room.
You felt without looking that Su-bong had situated himself behind you. His weight, his smell, his presence, you would know it anywhere. You felt him lean in behind you, poised to say something. He really did smell the same, even in this unfamiliar environment, in this random tracksuit. Even after the air of cheap cologne was gone, he remained.
“What do you think is going on now, lady?” he whispered.
Your breath stuttered as memories flooded your brain and pushed at the edges of your skull.
“I will lay you out on these tiles, Su-bong, if you call me that again.”
“Why? Feel special hearing your nickname again?”
A masked red guard came out. “Attention players. You will now be voting on the choice to continue or terminate the games. If the majority chooses to stay, you all stay, and have the chance to continue to play and win more money. If the majority chooses to terminate, you will all be returned to your lives, with no payout. You will be called up by number. Blue circle button for continuing the games, and red triangle button for terminating the games. After voting, please put your respective voting badges on and stand in the labelled boxes according to your vote. But first….we will fill the winning bank.”
Music suddenly kicked from overhead as the ka-thud of machinery began to whirr. A huge, clear mold of a piggy bank was illuminated overhead with golden light, and dinging began to sound as wads of cash cascaded into the bottom of the bank. You looked at Thanos’ face, illuminated by the light, his eyes sparkling.
Once the money halted, the guard spoke again. “Remember, 100 million won is added to the bank for every terminated contestant in the squid games. With that, we will begin voting. Remember….” The guard went over another brief explanation of the instructions, and your stomach sunk. You hadn’t even thought yet about whether you wanted to leave or stay. It should’ve been clear, but you quickly assessed that you could go either way. Your life was over on either side of the line. The only place you had odds….was here.
“What do you say, senorita?” Su-bong asked again. “Going to stay and party with me? Imagine, we’re the last two standing. 4.56 billion won, for you and me. Huh? Who are all the rest of these people in the way of us? They’re nothing.” He put a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged him off in disgust.
“And why do I get your loyalty? When have you ever given that to me? What about your friend? You’re so ready to joke about letting him die?” You gestured to Nam-gyu, who had been watching your exchange, smiling and chewing his thumb. At the mention of Thanos leaving him behind, he’d perked up a bit to listen intently.
“Yeah, hyung, what about me, I’m a better teammate. This girl doesn’t even want you man, she ain’t worth your time, hyung,” he insisted, smiling. Thanos worried his bottom lip, for once in his life holding back the urge to spew from his mouth.
“Hey, Nam-Gyu, once this guy disappoints you….we can make a club,” you murmured, turning your back to them.
One by one, people approached to vote as their numbers were called. Overall, it was looking close. Thanos voted to stay, to no one’s surprise. As he skipped to the blue box, he turned and waved to you.
You were going to do this. But not for him. Not for anything really. But like you’d already thought, this was the only place with any more prospects.
“Player 111.”
Your turn.
You voted noiselessly and pressed the voting badge to the velcro strip on your tracksuit. It didn’t matter that you avoided Thanos in the blue box, he still sidled up to you and got up in your face.
“Must not be that tired of me,” he breathed.
“What is your deal?” You growled, irritated, beyond the capacity for composure.
He blinked, smiled. He said something, but it was drowned out by the next number being called. Spared his response, you set your brain back to idle and tried to drown him out.
“Lady, you heard me?” He asked, breaking through stubbornly. You turned and moved to shove him back by his stupid, smart mouth. He caught your wrist, holding it as he leaned in. “I said you’re my deal.”
“Fuck off,” you spat, buzzing with anger. You smacked his grin off of his face with your free hand, finally getting him to clutch his cheek and let go of you, but he didn’t retreat. When Nam-gyu cussed and made a move towards you, Su-bong stopped him with a hand to the chest.
Chest heaving, your rage spiked again when you saw Su-bong stand and laugh, making the players around that had stepped away from your exchange make even more distance.
“Lady, you haven’t changed.” he chuckled. “There’s life in you yet.”
You tuned him out again, your only option. You knew better than to feed his flame, but it didn’t matter. Fed or starved, he just. Kept. Going.
“The voting process is now over. Majority vote rules. The games shall continue. Another vote will be taken for the same process after the next game. For now, eat and sleep.”
The guards retreated as a cacophony of mixed wails and cheers mixed from both sides of the room. You endured only long enough to eat, rinse the rest of the blood off of your face, and immediately retreat to your cot, which had been absorbed as part of the yay-sayer group’s side. You laid down, thanking whatever was left to thank that at least Thanos, who was surely nearby, left you alone to do so.
With closed eyes, he haunted your memories, and therefore your dreams. No sleep was had.
.
.
Here it is sooo long after the first chapter,,,,I’m still just as bad at using tumblr format LOLLL so I apologize for how shit the heading and everything looks, hopefully the quality of writing and the fact it’s 1000+ words longer than part one will make up for that…I hope anybody who enjoyed chapter one enjoys chapter 2! More coming! Might work on a new fic in the meantime…
pairing aged-up!neteyam x avatar driver-scientist!reader
notes reader is a human avatar driver, captive romance, reverse stockholm syndrome 😭, grumpy neteyam, reader is that captive who is sooo talkative she makes her captors want to free her, smut (p in v, interspecies), oral (f&m receiving)
word count 26.8k
synopsis a botanical expedition with your fellow scientists was supposed to be nothing short of a fun field trip, except that it turned into something entirely unexpected. now, you find yourself held ‘captive’ by the omatikaya. granted, it’s not exactly a brutal imprisonment if you’re enjoying every single minute of it. the only problem is that your enjoyment has become the absolute bane of someone else’s existence—the incredibly grumpy eldest son of toruk makto.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
The helicopter’s rotors beat a deafening pulse as it lowers itself down the thick rainforest canopy. You couldn’t believe your eyes, even though this wasn’t your first outing. From the point of view of a scholar who had spent her entire academic life studying everything about this world, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were actually here, studying it firsthand.
As soon as the helicopter touched down with a heavy thud, the two recombinant soldiers you were with jumped out to check the parameters. You unbuckled your harness, stepping out onto the damp, glowing soil and smelling the sweet air but rolling your eyes immediately when your avatar’s heightened sense caught the strong smell of gas from the helicopter behind you. Its rotors were just slowing to a deep thrum that finally allowed you to hear your own voice.
“Look at this,” you looked down at where your boots were sinking slightly into a carpet of bioluminescent moss. “They don’t want to believe Dr. Grace Augustine’s study on how this glowing moss is hardwired to a planet-wide neural network, but that was definitely real.”
Marco unbuckled his harness shortly after, following your lead and stepping out right behind you. “Y/N, please. Let's not start the ’Grace Augustine was an unappreciated prophet’ monologue again,” he groaned, scanning the immediate perimeter nervously. “Her data on the electrochemical transduction between the roots was purely theoretical. The RDA board members back at Bridgehead call it ’tree-hugger mysticism’ for a reason. There’s no hard evidence of a literal collective consciousness.”
“That’s because the RDA board members have the intellectual capacity of a wet sponge, Marco,” you snapped back playfully, already dropping to your knees in the dirt. You dug a trowel into a patch of violet ferns, unbothered by the dampness seeping into your avatar's uniform. “They want everything to be quantifiable in tons of unobtanium. They can't handle the fact that the grass beneath their boots has a higher IQ than their entire legal department.”
Dr. Danel stepped out of the helicopter last, looking down at you with a fond, albeit tired smile. “Now, Y/N, science requires skepticism. Dr. Augustine was brilliant, but mapping a planet-wide neural network through a handful of localized root samples is a massive statistical leap.”
“Oh, come on, Doc!” You looked up, a massive grin breaking across your blue face as your tail flicked with pure excitement. “Look at the signal delay when I do this.”
You tapped the handle of your trowel sharply against a thick, exposed root of a nearby tree. Instantly, a wave of faint cyan light pulsed through the moss, rippling outward into the dark underbelly of the forest like a fallen domino.
“See that?” you pointed, leaning in so close your nose almost touched the dirt. “That is not a localized reflex. That is a synapse firing! If Earth’s neurologists weren't so incredibly arrogant, if they just believed in something beyond what can be explained by their rigid Earth science, they could easily get a PhD in neurology just by studying the damn grass here!”
Marco snorted, shaking his head as he maneuvered his datapad. “Sure. A course about advanced synaptic botany, taught by a blade of grass, would be so loved by Ivy Leaguers.”
You rolled your eyes. “Who cares about what they love? We’re on Pandora!” you said. “And I'm serious!” you insisted, scooping a pristine sample of the glowing soil into a sterile jar. “Back on Earth, human neurologists spend decades slicing up organic brains, trying to figure out how a hundred billion neurons create a thought. Meanwhile, out here, Pandora just grew a giant, macroscopic brain and let us walk around inside it. You don't need a scalpel to study this mind, Marco. You just need an open mind.”
Dr. Danel chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “It’s a beautiful hypothesis, Y/N. But until we can map the exact neurotransmitter equivalents traveling through those roots, the military heads at Bridgehead are going to keep treating this world like a parking lot waiting to happen.”
“Then they're fools,” you muttered, sealing the jar as you looked at the back of a recombinant soldier. “Because you don't fight a brain this big. It’s going to outsmart them just as it did in the First Pandoran War with Jake Sully.”
Before Marco could counter your argument with another dry, skeptical remark, all of you grew silent as one of the recoms threw a fist in the air. Dr. Danel looked at them with a deeply worried frown. “Keep your weapons low, Corporal. We are here strictly for ecological sampling. If we trigger a political incident with the Omatikaya, the General will have our heads.”
“Relax, Doc,” the soldier smirked. “We’re just keeping our eyes peeled for the blues.”
Your head snapped to the side, your large, sensitive ears twitching violently backward, catching the unmistakeable sound of footsteps against the moss. The recom near a foliage clutched his heavy assault rifle and pointed it into a void before shooting in the air.
“Stop! What are you doing!” Dr. Danel shouted over the gunfire.
You heard another sound, sharp and cutting, and the next rhing you saw was a massive arrow tearing through the air, embedding itself directly into the chest of the soldier who fired the shots. He didn't even have time to scream before the sheer force threw his massive body backward into the dirt.
“Ambush!” The other recom roared, instantly raising his rifle and blind-firing into the dense thicket. The thunderous crack of gunfire shattered the peaceful morning.
“Get back in the chopper! Now!” Dr. Danel screamed, struggling to reach out from the open bay door, his blue hands outstretched toward you. “Y/N! Marco!”
Everything dissolved into a chaotic blur and from the branches above, massive shadows dropped with a swift, terrifying grace. You saw a massive Na'vi warrior collided with the uninjured recom, sending both of them crashing into the underbrush.
“Y/N!” Marco shrieked. He tried to jump out of the rising chopper to grab your arm, but he was hauled back when the pilot panicked and pulling the chopper upward to escape the hail of arrows. “No! Y/N!”
You scrambled backward on your hands and knees, your specimen jar shattering against a root. Before your brain could even choose between flight-or-fight, a massive, muscular arm strongly wrapped around your waist. You let out a high-pitched shriek as your body was effortlessly hauled up in the air, your feet kicking.
“Stop moving!” A harsh voice barked in your ear.
You blinked through your panic, looking around the clearing. The second soldier was dead, but the other was severely wounded on the ground, surrounded by three Na'vi warriors who had his arms pinned. And holding your by the arm now was a fiercely built Na'vi with striking golden eyes, a stern jawline, and a beautifully crafted bow slung over his shoulder.
“Okay, first of all, ouch!” you gasped, wiggling your arm against his iron grip. “Second of all, we were literally just collecting dirt! Do you see this? It's a trowel! It’s for digging, not for conquering! We are peaceful academics!”
The man narrowed his eyes at you before his head jerked to the nearest man. “Bind her. And secure the recom. We take them to my father.”
You understood that Na’vi and you panicked. “Bind me?! No need! I will go peacefully. I mean, my companions are gone and I might not survive alone here, honestly speaking,” you rambled. “Tell me, which people are you? See, I know a few clan names, just from what I’ve read, but the most famous one was the Omatikaya. Jake Sully’s clan. Oh, Jake Sully, my fellow. You know him? And Norm Spellman? I know them both. Parasocially, of course—”
The man yanked your arm, forcing you into a march. “Keep moving.”
“Ouch! Be careful with me!” you said, only to shriek again when you were hauled up by your waist and flopped down on the back of a huge direhorse. “Wow, you are so nice!”
The man mounted behind you, his hand gathering your hands so fast you haven’t even able to get a word out and your hands were bounded. You turned your head to look at the man with a glare.
“Oh, this was unnecessary!” you complained.
You felt his large hand on your head, forcing it to turn back to the path and you groaned in annoyance. The march back to the Omatikaya stronghold was an absolute nightmare, but mostly for Neteyam. Not you. For a captive who had just survived a lethal ambush, you possessed a completely infuriating trust and hope for your captors. Your legs were swinging on the direhorse as if it were just an ordinary ride and he had never met someone so talkative.
Once, during the ride, you leaned back toward his body and produced a very inappropriate sound. He suddenly regretted knowing your tongue, because it was torture. You even managed to speak in minimal Na’vi to make sure you were including his warriors to your pep talks.
“You know, you have an impressive wall of muscle. The muscular structure of your quadriceps is fascinating,” you chatted amiably, touching his thigh with your pointing finger and removing it before he could even swat your hand away. “You have a distinct body structure from the other dudes in general. Jesus, what are they feeding you? I bet you’re their strongest warrior. Like Achilles to the Greeks or something. And that stunt in the tree you did? Oh, my femurs would literally turn into chalk. Crack. Just dust.” You nodded at him. “By the way, my name is Y/N. What’s yours? You look like a... Nathan. Do you have a Na'vi equivalent for Nathan?”
He didn’t answer and he hated how curious he was. What’s a Nathan? He’d have to ask Jake about that.
“And you!” You pointed to another warriors. “Wow, the braids. Did you do those yourself or is there a designated hair-stylist in your clan? Because the symmetry is immaculate. Truly. I tried to braid my avatar’s hair three days ago and I looked like an electrocuted direhorse.”
Neteyam kicked his direhorse to a halt, stopping it dead in its tracks. The entire column of warriors halted behind him. You turned to him curiously.
“Uhm, why did we stop? Are we finally here—”
“You do not stop speaking,” Neteyam hissed, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “You are a prisoner of war. You should be weeping. You should be praying to your false gods.”
Your jaw dropped. He is speaking your tongue, and his voice is sexy. “Oh, you have a sexy English voice. Did you know that? Just deep and gravelly, so hot,” you flashed him a smile. “And honestly, crying burns calories, and I’m already hungry so—”
With a swift, fed-up motion, Neteyam snatched a thick strip of a woven strip from his satchel. Before you could move, his massive hand put the strip into your mouth, tying it securely behind your head.
“Mmph?!” you protested, your eyes widening.
“If you make another sound, I will tie you to my direhorse backwards,” Neteyam warned, his face inches from yours.
Oh, you are lucky to be so handsome right now, you groaned. You’d claw his face if you could! You rolled your eyes, giving a muffled, sassy huff through your nose, and sat properly.
“There,” he said in a low voice near your ear, sending a weird electricity throughout your body.
You felt a weird tingling between your thighs and looked down as if you could see the biological mechanisms of what’s happening in your avatar body. Your eyes narrowed and your jaw dropped. Oh, absolutely. You didn’t know that an avatar body could feel turned on, too, and that it has mechanisms at all for that. You wondered if it works just like a human body.
When the hunting party finally broke through the dense foliage, you were treated to a view of a massive tree. A hometree. “Whoa... This is your home?” you uttered in a muffled voice.
“What? Can’t understand you,” the man behind you said, and when you turned to him, you saw a satisfied smirk on his face.
You groaned, but the shift in the atmosphere already got your attention. The Hometree was massive, it was insane, and in front of its hollowed out entrance stood a large man whose physique differs from those around him. Your gasp was muffled, but you realized that tha was Jake Sully. Looking every bit the legendary, battle-hardened resistance leader he was painted to be in every news you’ve watched about him.
The man behind you dismounted, lifting you off the direhorse in a swift move just as the other warriors were shoving the wounded Recombinant to the ground.
“Sir. We found them near the eastern borders, accompanied by a Samson. One is dead, the others escaped, and we brought this one alive.”
Jake's eyes immediately locked onto the wounded Recombinant before looking at another warrioe. “Get him treated, we need him alive. He’s an asset.”
You, however, were completely ignoring the political drama. Your eyes had landed squarely on Norm Spellman. Your muffled “Mmmph!” becoming incredibly loud.
Norm, noticing your eyes on him, blinked. “Uh, Neteyam. What's up with that one?”
Neteyam sighed heavily. “She has a sickness of the mouth. She does not stop.” With an irritated jerk of his hand, Neteyam reached out and untied your gag.
The moment the leather cleared your lips, you took a deep breath and gasped, “Norm? Norm Spellman?”
Norm froze. “Uh... yeah?”
From the shadows of a nearby rock, you heard someone saying, “A Norm fan? Wow. That's a first for Pandora.” And when you whipped your heard, you saw a grown white man wearing only a loincloth.
You ignored him and looked back at Norm again. “I’ve read every single one of your published papers on the exoflora of the Western Frontier!” you blurted out, your tail swishing with genuine euphoria. “Your study on how Pandoran trees use electrical pulses to communicate with each other was foundational to my entire master's thesis! I can't believe it! You're a legend!”
Norm’s chest instantly puffed out. He looked over at Jake with a smug, self-satisfied grin. “Oh, a small thing. Wait, are you working for the RDA?”
“Not really working working for them, but I’m a scholar. I only really care about the flora and fauna, nothing else,“ you replied.
Norm shared a meaningful look with Jake who shifted his gaze to you. Before he could even speak, you jumped right at it again.
“And you! You’re like... the ultimate legendary villain back on Earth. They literally have a three-hour documentary about how you single-handedly ruined humanity’s chance for a brand new life in a brand new world. I am so incredibly honored to meet you,” you offered him your bounded hands.
He looked down at it, his hand politely holding your jutting out fingers and shaking it lightly before letting go.
“But honestly, I understand you. Humanity doesn’t really mean humanity, anyway, right? They won’t be transferring everyone. At least not the billions of humans on Earth. Only those who have billions. So, seriously, the battle of the Hallelujah Mountains? Masterclass.”
Jake was utterly dumbfounded. He looked at Neteyam, then back to you, completely unsure of how to process everything you’re saying. Neteyam placed a hand over his face, shaking his head.
“I apologize, Dad. I should have left her in the woods. I will put her in the upper cells.” The man beside you said, and your jaw dropped.
“Dad?!” you echoed, your head snapping to the man and looking at Jake. “You are Jake Sully’s son? No way! That’s why you’re built different, huh—”
“Get that man to the underground cells,” Neteyam’s deep voice cut your rambling off, and you saw the warriors drag the Recom by his shirt. “And you, if you don’t shut up, I will put you underground, too.”
“Is that a euphemism for burying alive? If so, then no, you don’t need to do that! I will shut up, now,” you nodded at him with a serious look on your face.
“Good,” he replied, his large hand wrapping at your forearm and started dragging you into the Hometree.
The hollowed-out trunk spans upwards and an intricate winding ramp was so beautiful, you couldn't wrap your head around the fact that it was definitely made by hands. The upper cells were situated three levels up and your cell was a naturally hollowed-out alcove with thick, curling wooden bars to close off the entrance.
Neteyam removed your bindings, his eyes narrowed as he watched you with deep suspicion, gently pushing you inside. To you, it didn't look like a jail cell. It looked like something out of a fairytale. There was even a window-like hole to let in air which also allows you to look at the surrounding verdant bush outside.
“This is gorgeous,” you muttered, running your fingers along the smooth, glowing moss on the root wall. “It’s like living inside a luxury treehouse. It reminds me of those storybook rabbits!”
You turned to him when you heard the door close. You put a hand on your hip, watching him secure it by a heavy leather latch on the outside. Your eyes narrowed.
“No need for that though, even if I wanted to run away, I wouldn’t have known how to go back to Bridgehead.” you said, sitting on the woven hammock, removing your boots.
He stood outside the bars, watching you do a yoga easy sit on the hammock.
“Neteyam, right?” you asked, putting your palms together. His eyes dropped to your hands, his forehead creasing. “Quick question. The Recombinant soldier. Is he going to live? Because from a scholarly standpoint, seeing how his synthetic Na’vi biology handles physical trauma under stress is a once-in-a-lifetime research opportunity for me—”
You were cut off when he simply turned on his heel and walked away into the shadows of the upper tunnels. Your lips parted, pointing a finger to where he disappeared. You stood up, walking to the bars.
“Wow! The nerve of this man!” you yelled after him, throwing your hands up. “A simple ‘I don't know,’ would have sufficed! Oh, you rude, rude man! Super rude!”
You turned around, letting out an annoyed sigh, and banged a closed fist against the wooden bars. The sounds of footsteps nearby reminded you that you weren't alone, though, because standing a few paces away were two young warriors assigned to guard duty. They were gripping their spears tightly, looking all fierce and imposing.
You smirked. Target acquired.
“Hey guys,” you said in Na’vi, sliding down the bars until you were sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking up at them through the gaps. “So, since you’re going to be my best friends for the foreseeable future, we might as well chat. I’m Y/N. What are your names?”
The guards exchanged a tense glance. The taller one muttered something in rapid Na'vi to his companion.
“Oh, I caught that! You don’t need to be afraid. Surely, they won’t punish you for talking? Unless the Olo’eyktan of Frown Town called Neteyam will get mad about that,” you said. Your accent was a little clunky, but your vocabulary was shockingly vast. “My grammar is bad, but I have a big heart. I’m going to tell you right here, right now that I do not like the RDA. They are... how do you say... greedy parasites who smell like burning gasoline?”
The shorter guard's mouth twitched. He quickly bit his lower lip to hide a smile.
“Seriously!” you pressed on, leaning your cheek against the wood. “I am a scholar! I do not support their violence and destruction of your world.”
A snort escaped the taller guard. He quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but the dam had broken.
“You... speak our tongue,” the shorter one said, stepping a bit closer. “Though you sound like a seven-year-old who isn’t sure of her words.”
“I'm doing my best here,” you laughed, your tail flicking playfully behind you. “What's your name, short-and-judgmental?”
“I am Si’an,” he said, a reluctant grin breaking across his face. “And this is Aleto.”
You nodded. “Nice names. Does it mean anything?” you curiously asked and they moved closer to properly chat with you.
When it was time to sleep, you pulled the soft blanket Aleto had smuggled for you up to your chin. You closed your eyes, the bioluminescent glow of the walls fading into a flash of sterile, blinding white light. A harsh hiss echoed in your ears as the pressurized seal of the link pod broke, replacing the warm, rich air outside by the synthetic, recycled chill of Bridgehead’s tech-bay.
You coughed slightly as your throat adjusted to the atmosphere, holding onto something so you could sit up. There was a crowd of tech-assistants and scientists around you, at forefront being Dr. Danel and Marco, their faces pale. Behind them, standing like a dark cloud, was the military division head, General Ardmore's deputy, alongside a couple of armed security guards.
“Y/N! Shit! Oh, thank goodness,” Marco blurted out, helping you up. “We thought you were dead! The chopper pilot said the whole clearing was crawling with hostiles!”
“Where is your avatar?” Dr. Danel asked, his voice worried as he checked your vitals monitor. “Is the link stable? What happened?”
You swung your legs over the edge of the pod, looking around the crowded lab and taking a deep breath. You delivered the news with complete, deadpan gravity.
“I’m in jail.”
Their faces looked like a cluster of colorful balloons had just been violently popped. The entire room went dead silent.
“Jail?” Dr. Danel echoed, his jaw dropping. “The Na'vi have... a penal system?”
You shook your head. “No, no. It’s more of like a dungeon, honestly,” you lied, your eyes sliding over to the military official who was now pushing his way through the scientists.
The soldier leaned over your pod. “Where is Corporal Jeong? The Recom soldier who was taken with you.”
You immediately schooled your face into an expression of vacant, traumatized innocence. You shook your head slowly. “I don't know, sir. The moment the Na’vis dropped from the trees, everything went completely sideways. I was blindfolded almost immediately. I couldn't see a thing.”
“Did you catch on to who got you? Which clan? Where their base of operations is?” the commander pressed, his eyes narrowing
You glanced briefly at Dr. Danel before looking back at the officer, widening your eyes. “N-No. Like I said, I was blindfolded the entire time and the next thing I know, I’m at the bottom of a dark, wooden hole. I haven't seen a single tactical layout.”
The commander gave a tight, deeply unsatisfied nod. “If they bring you out for interrogation, or if you catch any geographical markers through the link, you notify us immediately. Understood? You are our eyes inside the enemy's perimeter.”
“Understood, sir,” you lied flawlessly.
The moment the military detail cleared out, Dr. Danel and Marco practically dragged you by your arms into the break room, giving you a bottle of water and a heated bowl of food.
“Alright, what’s really going on?” Marco hissed, handing you a cup of hot coffee now. “Was that true? You don’t know where you are?”
You took a slow sip of your coffee, keeping your mouth firmly shut. You had made a decision the moment Neteyam dragged you into that spectacular tree trunk. If the RDA found out you were sitting in the literal heart of the Pandoran resistance, they would turn your link pod into a military tracking beacon. They would use your eyes to map out a strike zone and to kill Jake Sully, once and for all.
You were a scientist of life, not an asset for a corporate war machine. Your sole purpose now was to earn the trust of the Omatikaya, to get them to open that wooden door so you could study the magnificent, interconnected mind of this world.
“It’s true,” you said quietly, looking Marco dead in the eye. “And if I know anything, I'm not telling the military a damn thing. I am here to continue my PhD. I am not a spy.”
Dr. Danel let out a long, heavy sigh, but to your surprise, a small, proud smile touched his lips. “Good. Keep it that way. If the General's office smells even a whiff, they will take over your life completely. Just like what they tried to do with Jake Sully.”
“Just be careful, Y/N,” Marco warned, though he looked relieved even as he rolled his eyes. “Wherever you are.”
Because of the immense pressure, you became incredibly strict with your schedule. You spent your human hours locked in the Bridgehead labs, meticulously analyzing the soil samples you had managed to bring back, utilizing the high-tech RDA equipment to catalog data before swiftly diving back into the link pod. You couldn't afford to waste time. Every hour your avatar slept was an hour you could be earning the trust of the Omatikaya.
The next morning, Si’an and Aleto were joined by another young hunter and by noon, you had taught them the universal, high-stakes psychological thriller known as Rock, Paper, Scissors.
“No, Aleto, listen,” you explained patiently, your face pressed against the gap in the wooden bars. “The stone smashes the scissors. The scissors cut the paper. The paper covers the stone. It is a cycle of inevitable destruction.”
“But why does paper defeat stone?” Tseru asked, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. “A stone can tear through a leaf easily.”
“It blankets the stone, Tseru! It smothers its power!” you argued dramatically, throwing your hands up. “Don’t question the ancient lore of Earth. Now, on three. Rock, paper, scissors... shoot!”
You thrust out a flat hand for paper. Aleto threw out two fingers for scissors. He let out a triumphant, booming warrior cry that echoed through the upper canopy of Hometree, thrusting his spear into the air. “I have cut your paper!”
“Ah, a worthy adversary,” you sighed, shaking your head. “You win this round. Now hand over that blue fruit you’re hiding behind your back.”
As Aleto happily passed the sweet treat through the bars, you felt a familiar cue at the back of your consciousness, the digital tether of the link gently pulling you back for a scheduled maintenance cycle.
“Alright, boys, the link is pulling me back for a bit,” you warned them, shifting back onto your woven hammock and pulling up a blanket to your chin. “Don't miss me too much. Practice your tactics.”
“We will guard your cell, Y/N,” Si'an promised solemnly, puffing out his chest.
You spent the rest of the day working in the lab, letting the military guards see you conscious in your human form to show them that there was indeed nothing you could do with your avatar confined in a dungeon somewhere none of you know. You keep up at this, living your double lives seamlessly.
By week two, your cell had ceased to be a prison. It had officially become the hottest social club at Hometree. Word of the many Terran games you were teaching your guards had spread through the adolescent hunter ranks like wildfire. One day, when you linked back into your avatar form, the cell was practically buzzing.
You opened your eyes not just to the usual thrre guards, but seven young warriors huddled outside your bars, arguing heatedly over their hand positions.
“No! Tseru is cheating! His hand was a stone, but then he changed it to paper when he saw my scissors!” Si'an shouted, his tail thrashing in high-stakes frustration.
“I did not! The stone simply unfolded due to the wind!” Tseru countered defensively.
You sat up on your hammock, stretching your long blue arms, a massive grin breaking across your face. “Well, well, well. Look at this. A regular tournament of champions.”
The warriors instantly turned to you, their faces lighting up. “Y/N! You are awake!” Aleto cheered, rushing to the bars. “Teach us another. The finger-game has caused three arguments and Tseru owes me his favorite hunting knife.”
“Alright, alright, settle down,” you laughed, sliding off the hammock and sitting cross-legged at the gate. “Since you guys like tactical competition, let me introduce you to a little thing called Charades.”
For the next two hours, the upper cells of Hometree became a theater of absolute, unadulterated chaos. You had fierce, deadly Omatikaya warriors, men who could take down a large Samson with a single arrow, frantically flailing their arms, hopping on one foot, and mimicking the movements of various forest creatures while the others screamed guesses at the top of their lungs.
“An ikran! No, a sturmbeest! Why are you shaking your hips like that, Aleto? Is it a sick direhorse?!”
“It is a viperwolf catching a bug!” Aleto yelled, exasperated, collapsing against the wooden bars while you wiped tears of laughter from your eyes.
“No, no, he was clearly a very dramatic prolemuris,” you corrected, leaning your head against the bars. “You guys are terrible at this. I love it.”
Si’an smiled warmly, handing you a beautifully carved wooden cup filled with sweet water. “The sky people must have a very strange world if this is how you spend your days. Do you not have forests to run through?”
Your smile softened, your tail giving a quiet, reflective twitch. “We used to, Si’an. Earth was a beautiful planet once. Green, vibrant, full of life. But humans... Well, humans thought a concrete jungle was better. We built too many metal boxes, burned too much black oil, and we choked Terran.”
And that’s what this world needed protection from. Humans don’t know when to stop.
The young warriors fell silent and you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, and telling them about reality television and explained the concept of a cat instead. You were completely unbothered by your captive status and was endlessly entertained by the warriors guarding your cell. They brought you the softest bedding, the sweetest fruits, and would literally sit in front of your cell to talk to you about Pandora and your life back on Earth.
Meanwhile, Neteyam has been having terrible days.
It started at the training grounds. He had been trying to instruct the younger hunters on aerial tracking maneuvers, only to find half of his squad huddled in a circle, giggling. When he demanded to know what was so amusing, one of them had blurted out, “Neteyam, did you know that on Terran, they have tiny glowing boxes where people pretend to be animals for currency?”
He had traced the source of this sudden intellectual corruption directly back to your cell.
Neteyam marched down pathways leading to the cells and as he rounded the corner, his lips parted. There were no less than eight warriors sitting in a semi-circle outside your bars. You were leading them in a clumsy, boisterous rendition of an unfamiliar song, conducting them with a piece of kindling wood.
“What is this gathering?”
The deep, gravelly, instantly recognizable voice cut through the warm atmosphere. The warriors froze. Slowly, every single head turned to find Neteyam standing a few paces away. You pressed your head against the bars, trying to see him. You saw him with his arms crossed over his broad, muscular chest and his golden eyes were flashing with thunderous fury.
You blinked, totally unbothered, and offered him a cheery wave. “Hi, Commander! Perfect timing. Grab a spot on the floor, Aleto is up next and—”
“Everyone, OUT!” Neteyam roared.
The warriors scattered like wood-sprites caught in a flash of lightning. Spears were grabbed, apologies were muttered, and within three seconds, the corridor was empty, leaving only Neteyam standing outside the bars, his chest heaving with irritation.
You blew a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, leaning against the bars with a heavy pout as you looked up at him. “Wow. You really know how to kill a vibe, Neteyam. We were right at the chorus.”
“You are a plague,” Neteyam hissed, stepping right in front of you, his golden eyes blazing down at you. “You are a captive of the Omatikaya, yet you have turned my warriors into simpletons. They speak of stupid games and stupid animals—”
“Oi, communication bridges the gap between warring factions!” you argued, crossing your arms. “Besides, your warriors were stressed. A little cultural exchange is good for moral support. You should try it sometime. You look like you haven't smiled since the turn of the century.”
“Stop,” he commanded. “You will stop distracting them. You will sit in the dark, and you will be quiet. You are an enemy.”
You stared at him, your playful demeanor vanishing, replaced by a sharp, stubborn glint in your eyes. “An enemy? I haven't done a single thing to hurt your people. But fine. If you want a dangerous, silent prisoner so badly... you got it.”
You crossed your arm and hissed like a kitten, showing him your fangs before you turned your back on him. His head reared back a little, watching you lie on your sleeping mat in the furthest corner of the cell, and went completely still. His forehead creased at how his chest fluttered, making him almost smile for whatever reason.
But he caught himself immediately, pushing against the wooden bars and walking away.
For two full days, you did not say a single word. But that was simply because you didn’t link back that much to yout avatar so you won’t have to suffer. When Ateyo brought you fresh fish and roasted fruits, you didn't even turn back. You remained curled in a tight ball, staring blankly at the root wall. You didn't eat. You didn't drink. In your avatar form of course, because as a human, you were eating good.
Because of this, the warriors were in a state of absolute crisis. They were so dramatic about it at the training grounds, you’d think they’d lost their grandmother, but when Neteyam tried to eavesdropped, it was just them talking about how you look so weak and how you’re probably suffering from the fact that you’re not eating and socializing.
“The poor girl is fading,” one of them sighed.
“Is there something we can do to put a stop to Neteyam’s cruelty toward her?”
Cruelty? Neteyam protested in his mind. When he told you to stop talking to his warriors days ago, he didn’t expect you would go on a hunger strike! Now, his warriors are turning against him in silent protest for his cruelty toward you. You could literally create your own army of warriors who would do your bidding for you, and that’s what’s clear to him.
He went to your cell by nightfall, seeing you still curled up to your mat. “Hey,” he called out, waiting for you to move but you didn’t. His eyes narrowed, unfastening the lock.
He went inside, walking toward your mat and putting a hand over your arm to nudge you. Your dead weight surprised him, your body getting carried by his nudge. His heart fell to his stomach, his eyes widening a little as he gently shook you.
“Hey,“ he nudged but to no avail. “Fuck.” he whispered, squeezing your arm.
You’re warm and your flesh isn’t rigid, but what’s with the dead weight? He scooped you into his arms, walking out of the cell. Your warrior friends who saw him locked in right away when they saw you in his arms as he was walking down the pathway.
“Oh, Great Mother, what happened to her?” Aleto asked.
“I knew it, she’s going to die anytime soon because of this!” Si’an said with a shaky voice, both of them following Neteyam as he stepped up the winding ramp to the healing pavilion.
“What’s going on?” Another warrior asked when they passed by.
By the time they reached the pavillion, there were at least nine warriors tailing him, all of them worried. He turned to them before he went inside though, snarling, “Go back to your posts.”
They reluctantly scrambled away, but still looking back to see what they could before he entered the pavilion. Kiri looked up as soon as he did, her brows furrowed. “What happened?”
“She’s not... waking up. She refused to eat for days and now, she’s just... this,” he said, pulling your body closer to his body.
“Put her down there,“ she gestured on a mat. “Is she the avatar brought in weeks ago?”
“Yeah,” he croaked.
Kiri checked your vitals. “You’ll have to call Dad, we’ll ask him,” she said.
Neteyam did. While Jake already knew that it was just a case of the driver not linking to the avatar, his son’s uncharacteristic panicking is suddenly too entertaining to not witness further. He stood in the pavillion, watching Kiri show him how dead you are.
Once Jake assured him that your avatar body was perfectly healthy but simply throwing a massive, stubborn tantrum, Neteyam took matters into his own hands. He brought in a tray of food in the pavilion and waited for you to wake up, if you will. And you did. Your eyes peeled open suddenly, your head swiveling until your eyes landed on the man sitting a few feet away.
“Great. She’s awake,” he says. “And the food’s still hot. Eat,” he ordered flatly.
“Whoa, he goes straight to business,” you mumbled but you didn’t move.
Neteyam crouched down, his shadow looming over your form. “Y/N. Stop this foolishness. Do not do this to punish me,” he said in a deep voice.
You rolled on your stomach. “I am not punishing you!” you said in a small voice, giggling.
Your face was noticeably pale, and your lips were dry, it was all starting to tug at Neteyam’s heartstrings until a wicked spark flared on your face. He threw his head back, knowing you’re about to say something crazy again.
“But do you feel punished?” you asked, smirking at him. “Is that why you came crawling back for me to forgive you?”
Neteyam clenched his jaw so hard a muscle leaped in his cheek. “I just don’t want your death on my hands,” he said.
You pouted. “You’re sooo concerned, it really flatters me,“ you teased, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, leaning dangerously close to his space.
Neteyam stood up so fast he nearly hit his head on the low ceiling root. “You are insufferable,” he growled, turning on his heel and storming out of the tent.
You burst into a loud, echoing laugh that followed him all the way to the pathways. He spinned on his heels again, barging back into the tent and seeing you dragging the tray to eat.
“Good. Eat, because I’m bringing you back to your cell,” he said.
You groaned, your feet kicking in protest. “This isn’t my new room? I could really get cozy in here!” your fingers grabbed a cut up roasted meat and brought it to your mouth.
“This is the healing pavilion,” he replied seriously, standing rigidly by the entrance.
“Can I request something?” you asked. “I seriously need an outfit change and a bath. You know, back on Earth, prisoners have rights. They get bath time and outfit changes—”
“I’ll take care of that,” he said before walking away.
You narrowed your eyes. “So rude,” you smirked, munching on the meat.
He returned just as you were cleaning your leaf off, carrying a bundle of soft, woven fabrics. His eyes tracked how you were reclining on the mat, your long legs stretched out and your upper body propped on one elbow. You licked your fingers off, smiling at him and his lips pulled back in what looked like a snarl before he dropped the fabrics on a nearby low table.
“Here.“
You moved to inspect it, blinking as you realized that they were going to complete your whole Na’vi experience. There was a yellow beaded top and a soft purple loincloth.
“You really made sure I will look like a stunner with my new outfit. I love these,” you smirked.
Neteyam let out a low, visceral groan of pure regret. “If you do not shut your mouth, I will throw you back to your cell without the bath.”
You moaned, standing up as you held the fabrics under your arm. “These threats are starting to sound like flirting to me, Commander, so maybe pipe down.” You widened your eyes at him.
He didn’t respond but you saw how his whole face protested against that, making you chuckle as he led you down the pathway toward the winding ramp. You waved a hand to the warriors you know, seeing them perk up knowing that you’re alright.
The walk to the lower root pools was a masterclass in psychological warfare. For Neteyam, at least. You were unbounded, walking freely beside him, and you did not let up for a single second.
“You know, for a high-ranking commander, you walk very stiffly,” you noted, tilting your head as you matched his long strides. “Are all Na’vi men this tense, or is it just the specialized training for the grumpy ones?”
Neteyam stared straight ahead. “I am tense because you are currently walking next to me instead of being in jail.”
“Ouch,” you gasped, placing a dramatic hand over your chest. “But seriously, look at the view! Everything is gorgeous today. Don’t you ever just want to stop and smell the flowers, Neteyam?”
“No. It’s my everyday view.”
“What about a song? Do you enjoy songs—”
“We’re getting closer to the pools,” he cut you off, his voice dropping an octave as he finally snapped his gaze toward you. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll change my mind and really bring you back to your cell without bath privileges.”
You grinned, entirely unfazed. “See? Look at us, communicating! Building a rapport! This is just great!” You raised both hands.
By the time you reached the secluded lower root pools, Neteyam looked like a man who had survived a war but wasn’t sure he’d survive the peace. The area was beautiful and the sunlight provides a dappled glow over a deep natural basin. Neteyam stopped at the edge of the clearing, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You have ten minutes. I will be standing right here. Face the other way, do your business, and do not make a sound.”
“Ten minutes? For a bath and an outfit change?” you scoffed. “I am an Earth girl, Neteyam. I need a longer time than that! Plus, I have to figure out how to put this loincloth on without accidentally flashing the entire clan.”
Neteyam’s ears twitched violently. He immediately turned his back to you, facing the pathway. “You have nine minutes now. Start scrubbing.”
You chuckled, stepping down into the warm, soothing water. The relief was instant, washing away the grime and stiffness of your avatar’s dramatic captive activity. You splashed around a bit, entirely on purpose, listening to the sharp, annoyed sigh that escaped Neteyam’s lips every time a droplet hit the bank near his feet.
“Neteyam...” you called out.
“What?” he grumbled, refusing to turn around.
“How do you guys get your hair so shiny? Is it a specific leaf? Give me the secrets.”
“I am not giving you hair care advice. Five minutes.”
“Boo. Selfish,” you teased, doing a thumbs down behind his back.
After thoroughly rinsing off and using the saps he gave you, you stepped out of the pool, shivering slightly as the cool breeze hit your damp skin. You grabbed the woven fabrics and began the highly ungraceful process of figuring it out.
The beaded top was simple enough, but the purple loincloth presented a serious problem. “Neteyam...” you called again. “We have a tactical error.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything! But this loincloth did. Are there instructions for this? Because right now, if I tie this the way I think I'm supposed to, one strong gust of wind is going to ruin your day.”
Neteyam pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders dropping in sheer exhaustion. “It is a standard wrap.”
“Easy for you to say, you’ve been wearing them your whole life! Come here and help me. I promise I won't bite. Unless you want me to...” You made him hear the clank of your teeth biting.
He spun around, a snarl ready on his lips, but as soon as he saw you, he froze. You were holding the fabric securely against your waist, looking thoroughly confused... and so adorable with the little pout that a hot flush creeped up the back of his neck.
Marching over to you with determined steps, he took the ends of the fabric from your hands. You grinned and clapped without a sound, while he focused entirely on the knot, trying to ignore the fact that he was so close to you that some droplets from your hair is on his arm.
“You’re actually really good at this,” you spoke, breaking the moment of tensed silence. “This should be your side hustle. Personal stylist to the prisoners.”
Neteyam pulled the knot tight, a little harder than necessary, making you huff. He stepped back instantly, his expression locking back into a stern mask, though his ears were still pointing out to the sides in clear fluster.
“It is done,” he said flatly, gesturing toward. “Now, back to the cell.”
You looked down at yourself. The yellow beads and vibrant purple looking surprisingly striking on you. You gave him a little twirl and he hated that he liked how you look like in a traditional Na’vi clothes a little too much.
“Honestly? 10 out of 10. I look fantastic,” you declared, confidently walking past him and taking the lead on the path back. “You can walk behind me now, Commander. I know you want to admire your handywork.”
Neteyam let out a sound that was half-growl, half-laugh, shaking his head as he followed you. “May Eywa give me strength,” he whispered.
“She won’t!” you called back cheerfully over your shoulder.
As you two walked up, you spotted Tseru from a distance and he immediately smiled at you. You raised your arm, making a huge wave of your hand, almost walking up to him until you felt Neteyam’s hand on your elbow.
“Another thing. From now on, the guard rotation is canceled. The warriors are completely forbidden from speaking to you. You distract them.”
You gasped dramatically, “You can’t just cut my social life off! Isolation can kill!“ you reasoned, but he already started walking. A slow, Cheshire-cat grin spread across your face as you jogged up behind him, playfully pointing a finger at his back. “But oh, I know this game!”
He stopped abruptly, making you jump. “What game?”
You laughed, your voice echoing in the cavern. “You want me all to yourself?”
He blinked. You saw his ears pin back against his head, like a cat backed in a corner, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve heard that my games are fun and you’re curious, and you—”
He sighed heavily, cutting you off. “Jail.”
He grabbed your wrist and marched down the pathway, bringing you back to your cell. You bounced on your heels, probably the happiest prisoner he’s ever going to see. He pulled the bars shut, and the absolute moment his back was turned and he was out of your sight, Neteyam closed his eyes, a breathless, helpless laugh bubbling up in his chest that he had to bite his own lip to suppress.
A seasoned Omatikaya warrior, not one of your minions, was standing a few paces away, guarding the main thoroughfare, looking at Neteyam with a highly raised eyebrow.
Neteyam instantly wiped the smile from his face, jerking his head toward the man with an authoritative air.
“Don't talk to her.”
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
The hum of the tech-bay at Bridgehead felt colder than usual as you slid out of the link pod. You didn't even have time to shake off your phantom tail before a shadow fell over your pod.
It was the same grumpy military official from before. He at least waited for you to sit on your swivel chair and drink water before he spoke. “Over a month in a hole and you’re telling me you still haven’t heard a single name? No geographical markers? No anything?”
You blinked up at him, your expression a masterclass in exhausted trauma. “Sir, with all due respect, I am a scientist, not a human GPS. They keep me underground. It’s dark. The only thing I hear is the occasional terrifying growl of whatever alien megafauna they have guarding the perimeter. I am already doing my best to keep a billion-dollar worth of avatar body alive.”
The commander sneered, clearly unsatisfied, but muttered a warning about “withholding operational data” before storming out of the tech-bay.
Once the doors hissed shut, Dr. Danel stepped forward, waving the rest of the lab staff away until it was just you, him, and Marco by the centrifuge station. “Kid. Look at me. You’re a brilliant scholar, but you are a terrible liar to people who actually know you. Where are you really?”
You glanced at the security cameras, then sighed, leaning against the steel counter. “The Omatikaya,” you mouthed subtly, letting out as little voice as possible.
Marco choked on his coffee. “That clan? As in Jake Sully’s clan? Jesus. If the military finds out—”
“They won’t,” you cut him off, your voice fierce and resolute. “Because I’m not telling them. Doc, you should see it. They live inside a massive, perfectly engineered ecosystem. We know they are intelligent, but the entire culture is a blueprint for planetary harmony. If I give the military even a hint of where I am, they’ll bring down Samsons and carpet-bomb the entire valley on the virtue of that useless Recom being held captive.”
Dr. Danel stared at you for a long, heavy moment. Slowly, the tension left his shoulders, and he placed a comforting hand on your arm. “I’m proud of you, kid,” he says. “We hold no loyalties to a corporate flag, our only loyalty is to life itself. I’ll see what I can do on the administrative side to push the investors to allow us to have an independent outpost. We need to get out from under the military’s thumb.”
You nodded, sighing heavily. When you linked back to your avatar the next day, you expected to wake up to the now boring and miserable jail with warriors who refuse to talk. Instead, your eyes cracked open to find the soft, dappled light of what looked like a longhouse.
Even more surprising? Norm Spellman was hovering over you, alongside Jake Sully, who was holding a piece of salvaged RDA technology—a damaged emulation device that had been recovered from a scouting raid.
“Finally,” Norm said, glancing at Jake before he looked down at you. “I’m wondering if you know this?”
You squinted, pushing yourself up into a sitting position on your mat. “An emulation device?” you answered.
“What kind? I mean, this was in a secured brief case. I know it is something very important, but this is a new-generation RDA tech, and we’ve been trying to figured it out. You’re the last resort.”
“That’s a new generation firmware emulator. They use these in the field to spoof localized military frequencies. Basically, it mimics the digital signature of a standard SecOps patrol chopper or armored vehicle so the automated perimeter turrets and scout drones don’t accidentally fire on them,” you said, your voice entirely devoid of any corporate loyalty.
Norm’s jaw dropped. He exchanged a wide-eyed look with Jake. “This is great,” he whispered.
You nodded and yawned, “It is.”
“You know how this works?” Norm followed up and you shrugged.
“Well, you know, before I was thrown into this lovely root cell, I spent months sharing a workspace with the Bridgehead engineers. Let’s just say I know exactly how this new telemetry hardware works. In theory. The tech guys love to brag when they're bored. I know the whole architecture of this thing. If we can manipulate this, you could practically walk a strike team right past their automated scanners. It would be great for you.”
Jake tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Can you crack it? Can you make it work for us?”
You yawned, “I’d love to but I’m in this cell and I don’t have any connection to the outside world, some people would have died—”
“I’ll decree your freedom,” Jake cut you off.
You looked at Norm, “Give me a stylus and I’ll look at the diagnostic layer, I can bypass the standard encryption using an open backdoor. The RDA is cheap. They never rewrite the core code on their hardware.”
Within fifteen minutes of clicking, tapping, and completely exploiting a loophole, the datapad beeped, its interface cascading into a clean, unencrypted stream of decoded frequencies.
“We can work on this, Norm,” you said.
“And you’re free. You’re a guest of the Omatikaya now.”
“I’m free?!” you gasped, a genuine grin breaking across your face.
By midday, you were officially allowed a free woman, given a small, cozy kelku, and granted permission to move about as free as a bird.
Which brought you to your favorite activity: teasing Neteyam.
You spotted him near the lower training ground, checking the tension on his bowstring. You practically bounded over to him, your tail swishing with obnoxious joy.
“Guess who’s a free woman, Commander!” you sang out, sliding into his peripheral vision and waving your hands excitedly. “I’m free! Officially released. No more jail time for this girl. Aren’t you just thrilled?”
Neteyam’s face locked into a deadpan mask. “Considering that I was the one who put you in jail, I couldn’t have been more thrilled,” he answered.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Neteyam,” you teased, leaning down to peer up into his golden eyes. “I know you’re secretly ecstatic that you don't have to break your own rule just to come see me anymore.”
He threw his head back, annoyed but still so handsome. “Do you not have chores to do? Surely, my father freed a high-risk prisoner for an important reason. Members of this clan work. They do not spend their days loitering and harassing warriors.”
“Nope, no chores yet. I’m still in my onboarding phase,” you chuckled, following him step for step as he tried to back away. “Besides, I think my new official job should be your personal shadow. You know, to make sure you don't miss me too much.”
He let out a sharp breath, but before he could snap back, Jake Sully walked by, seeing his son with you. He perked up, making his way to the two of you.
“Neteyam, son,” he clapped a hand on Neteyam’s shoulder. “Y/N is going to be doing an important work with Norm and Max at the human facilities...“ Jake told him.
Neteyam was still looking at you as Jake speaks so you grinned at him. “Important work,” you mouthed, winking.
“...She doesn’t know her way there and we can’t trust that she will live when left unattended outside Hometree, so you’re on guard duty. Every day. You told me yourself that she has a habit of forming her own personal army, so I want an experienced commander keeping an eye on her.”
Neteyam’s ears pinned straight back. He looked at his father in absolute betrayal. “You can’t do this to me...”
“Get to work, son,“ Jake smirked, walking away.
You turned to Neteyam, flashing a brilliant, wide-eyed grin. “Looks like you’re my personal shadow instead. Do you see how me and Eywa are literally like this?” you intertwined your index and middle finger together in front of his face.
He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath out of his nose. The distant human research facility is located a few kilometers away through a dense jungle. While you’d like to think that you can actually traverse this alone, some company from a very grumpy warrior is a great thing for a menace like you.
Neteyam marched ahead, his posture so rigid you were convinced a single well-placed twig could snap his spine. His long tail gave tight, irritable twitches every time your bare feet loudly crunched a leaf behind him.
“Neteyam...” you called out and he snapped his head at you with a raised brow, not breaking his stride. “How can you walk like that?”
“Like what?“ he asked.
“I mean, you walk like you’re trying to avoid stepping on bugs,” you said cheerfully, jogging a few steps to catch up to his massive stride. “But it’s impressive! This specialized training is what made it possible for you guys to ambush us and that’s just great, you really showed those Recoms what they are missing—”
“Are you happy you got ambushed and now you’re here as a captive?” he asked.
“I guess so. Bridgehead isn’t really the best place for this,” you twirled. “I deserve this freedom, don’t you think? To plant my feet on this soil, to smell the flowers, to talk to the people, to smell this sweet air—”
“I get it the first time,” he cut you off. “You go back to your human body at Bridgehead, anyway, right?”
“Yes, but I didn’t tell them anything, I swear,” you told him, nodding. “They don’t know where I am.” You made a zipping motion on your lips.
His gaze dropped down on your mouth and his forehead creased. “Why did you do that?” he asked.
You beamed, “Well, err, there’s this thing humans call as zipper. It closes an opening,“ you told him. “So when someone does that, it means their mouth is zipped. They are never going to talk.”
His head tilted, “Well, can you do that? Zip?” he did the motion on his lips.
Your lips pursed, nodding and excited that he’s keeping up. “Yes,” you mouth.
His face visibly smooths over, pointing at the path. “Great. Now, let’s go.”
The daily walks to the human research facility quickly became the highlight of your double life. You link back to your avatar for the important work you do with Norm and Max, but you still spend a significant time in your human body to work on your own study and to ward off military suspicions.
At first, if Neteyam isn’t grumpy, he’s silent. But you were relentless. You ranted about the RDA, you asked him deep theological questions about Eywa, and you taught him incredibly bad Earth puns. Slowly, beautifully, the reverse Stockholm syndrome claimed its highest-ranking victim.
“You know, Neteyam,” you trotted backwards in front of him, looking up at his towering frame with a playful smirk. “I’ve noticed you haven't threatened to tie me to a direhorse backwards in like two weeks. Are you getting soft on me? Am I finally breaking through that thick, grumpy exterior?”
Neteyam stopped walking. The dappled sunlight hitting his sharp jawline and broad shoulders. “You think you are very clever, sky girl,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that deep, gravelly register that made a weird, exhilarating warmth rush straight to your thighs.
“Admit it. You like having me around. You think I’m delightful,” you shot back cheekily, stepping closer before your eyes got snagged by a nearby flower. “Look at that flower over there! Isn’t that called pxuyo? There was a similar plant back in my world—”
“If you touch it, it will shoot thousands of tiny hairs into your face. You will not see the Great Mother, but your eyes will swell shut and you won’t be able to see anything for days.”
“I know! I was saying there was something like that back in my world, and someone made the mistake of wiping their butt with it—”
“What?” His face crumpled in visible distess.
You stared at the beautiful flower, then back at him, nodding solemnly. “Yes,” you said. “But this one’s crazier, because it shoots people. Beautiful and deadly.”
“Like some people,” he murmured, a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth giving him away.
“Oh, did you just smile?!” you cheered, bouncing on your heels in front of him.
As the weeks bled into a routine, the frosty wall between you has completely shattered. You were a walking encyclopedia of useless Earth trivia and hyper-fixated xenobiology facts, and Neteyam, to his own absolute horror, was actually starting to listen. You’d be dissecting the cellular structure of a glowing root, and he would chime in with the practical applications of its sap.
“And then, the humans just sit on a couch and scream at each other for money! It’s art, Neteyam, truly—”
Your foot hit a slick patch of moss. Your arms flailed, your tail whipped around seeking balance, and you went down hard, sliding flat on your butt into a pile of thick, squishy mud.
You sat there, looking utterly ridiculous.
Neteyam froze. He looked down at you. His chest heaved once. Twice. And then, a sound escaped him. A deep, booming laugh that echoed through the canopy. He threw his head back, his white teeth flashing, his entire face lighting up in a way that genuinely took your breath away.
“You’re laughing!” you shrieked pointing a muddy finger at him. “There’s no way! Someone write this down in the ancient lore!”
“Shut up,” he gasped, coughing to clear his throat as he tried to pull his stern commander mask back on, though his eyes were still dancing with pure amusement. He stepped down the slope and extended a hand to haul you out of the muck. “Look at you. You are a disaster.”
“I’m a xenobiologist, Neteyam, I’m all good with mud,” you huffed, deliberately wiping a streak of mud onto his forearm as he pulled you up.
“Well, now, you’re going to a field trip to the nearest river because you can’t go home like that,” he said and you squealed.
Your closeness have grown exponentially that instead of dumping you off at the facility as soon as he has successfully walked you there like he used to, Neteyam started to linger. He would come inside, to the surprise of Norm and Max who weren’t really used to him coming here as much as Lo’ak and Kiri who practically spent every waking day here with Spider.
Neteyam had always preferred spending his days training in his archery and flying on his ikran. Now, he’s sitting cross-legged on a metal crate watching you work with Norm and Max.
“Who is Lo’ak?” you asked when Max mentioned him in passing.
“My brother,” Neteyam answered from where he was sitting, carving on a wood.
“Your brother?! You have a brother I didn’t know about? Where is this man this entire time—”
“He’s mated,” he cut you off. “Not available.”
You choked on your own saliva, your tail giving a violent, shocked flaught. “Mated?! Already? Dang, the younger generation moves fast around here. What about you, big brother? You got a secret mate hidden in the trees that I should know about?”
He slowly raised his head, his eyes locking onto yours with a sudden, heavy intensity that made the playful words die in your throat.
“No,” he said softly, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that did wild things to your heart rate. “I do not.”
“I—I was just asking...” you smoothly looked away, suddenly finding the dirt under your fingernails fascinating. You cleared your throat, frantically trying to focus on your work, but your hands were shaking.
You could feel his gaze on you, heavy and lingering. Over the last moon and weeks, something had shifted. The way his hand lingered just a second too long when he helped you cross a puddle. The way his ears pointed directly toward you the moment you entered a room. The way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention, not like a security risk, but like something fascinating he was trying to understand.
And it terrified you.
You looked down at your blue hands. This wasn't your real body. Your real flesh and blood was sitting in a metal city miles and miles away, owned by a corporate war machine that you were actively betraying. Your life was a ticking clock of lies, military interrogations, and double-dealing. You were a ghost inhabiting a fake body
Falling for Jake Sully’s son would be a catastrophic complication. But as you stole a glance at Neteyam, who had gone back to his carving with a small, quiet smile on his lips, you realized with a sinking feeling that your stupid, traitorous heart had already crossed the line.
To mask the deafening alarms blaring in your head, you did what you always did when a situation became entirely too real: you turned your internal volume up to a solid eleven.
On the walk back to Hometree, you practically performed a one-woman theater show. You jumped over roots with dramatic flairs, ranted about the nutritions of Pandoran berries, and attempted to teach Neteyam the entire baseline plot of The Matrix using wild arm movements. You didn’t know when it started, but this tension in the atmosphere between you two had only grown thicker and more charged day by day.
And you know that if you stayed silent, it would be awkward, so you talked over it like your life depended on it.
“And then the guy chooses the red pill, Neteyam! It’s an allegory for waking up from corporate brainwashing! Honestly, I think you’d really relate to the main guy—”
You whipped around to face him, walking backward to gauge his reaction, but yoy heel caught the edge of a slick, rain-soaked stone.
“Whoa—!”
Your arms flailed, preparing your body for another ungraceful landing in the mud, but it never came.
A heavy, calloused hand shot out, wrapping securely around your waist. Neteyam hauled you forward against his chest with dizzying force, his other hand anchoring firmly on your shoulder to steady you.
The forest around you seemed to hold its breath. A sudden, gentle breeze rustled the canopy above, sending a flock of fan lizards spiraling down into the clearing. They unfurled into brilliant, spinning wheels of bioluminescent purple and gold, casting an ethereal glow over both of your faces.
Your breath caught. You were pressed completely against him, his chest rising and falling in a rapid and uneven way. You swallowed hard. He’s so handsome. Neteyam’s eyes flickered down, his intense gaze dropping entirely to your lips. You were scrambling for a witty thing to say, beating him from what you know would be a reprimand on walking backward.
But a reprimand didn’t came.
Because he leaned down, and you felt his soft lips pressing against yours, catching your lips in a deep, sudden, breathless kiss.
Now, it would be a lie if you claimed you’ve never imagined kissing him in the past weeks, but you certainly only imagined a gentle, polite kiss. Knowing how he’s this proper and refined gentleman who won’t go up to you at a club and ask you to come home with him.
The kiss was possessive. It was hard and consuming, and made you feel that the hidden glances and accidental brushes of his fingers against yours mean more than what you thought they were. You felt the this is long overdue message he was sending through the kiss as you kissed him back, your hand tightening around his large bicep.
His grip on your waist also tightened, pulling you completely flush against his warmth, emboldened by the fact that you want it, too. When he finally pulled back, his breath was a warm puff against your cheek. Your eyes were wide, your lips parted and your mind was completely blank. He pulled you up to your feet and you had to run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to smooth down your mind.
But still, you couldn’t say a single word for the rest of the walk.
Your zipped-mouth rule was enacted without any request from outside parties, it was simply driven by pure, unadulterated shock for what happened. What you allowed to happen. But Neteyam? The universe apparently loved a comedy of roles, because the moment you shut up, a brilliant, smug smirk broke across his face, and he took it as his personal cue to become the talkative one.
“What’s wrong, sky girl?” he asked, his voice dripping with an insufferable amusement as he matched your stiff stride. “I don’t remember you from my stiff walking classes for the grumpy ones.”
You glared at the path ahead, your tail twitching stiffly behind you.
“You walk very fast when you are quiet,” he noted, jogging a step to lean into your peripheral vision, his ears perking in absolute victory. “I thought you wanted to smell the sweet air? To plant your feet in the soil?”
“Sh...” Shut up, you snarled. You face was already burning a violent shade of deep purple.
So when you two finally reached Hometree, you headed straight for the communal eating areas, desperately seeking refuge. Normally, you sat with your warrior friends, gossiping, playing Earth games, and being loud enough to be a little disturbing. You sat down on a woven mat, grabbing a leaf of roasted fish, hoping the crowd would buffer you.
But a heavy shadow fell over your mat and Neteyam sat right next to you, his long legs crossing comfortably as he reached for a piece of fruit, his arm circling around you instead of reaching in front of you, which made it feel like he was hugging you.
You looked at him, then at your friends who are awkwardly looking at their leaf plates. “What are you doing? Your spot is over there with your family.”
“It just seems more... interesting here,” he said smoothly, a wicked spark dancing in his eyes before he turned to your friends. “Why are we silent?”
You stammered out a clumsy, non-committal noise before shoving more food into your mouth as Aleto scrambled for something to say. It was infuriating. It was like a switch had been flipped in his brain. He had completely adapted to your antics and was now weaponizing them against you. You tried to fight back with narrow glares and sharp elbows, but every time he chuckled, your traitorous heart did a pathetic little flip.
The next morning, the hum of the tech-bay at Bridgehead felt colder and more jarring than ever. You sat at your desk, staring blankly at a centrifuge of soil separation, completely distracted. You had been spinning the same vial for ten minutes without hitting start.
“Hey, little bird,” Marco’s voice cut through your daze. He leaned over your workstation, holding a data pad. “You’ve been staring at that soil like it owes you a worm. Dr. Danel asked for the mineral breakdown an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”
You let out a massive sigh, burying your face in your hands. “Marco. I have a problem. A huge, complicated, multi-layered problem.”
Marco pulled up a rolling stool, eyebrows raised. “Alright, spill. Is the military digging into your field logs again?”
“No, no. Let’s play a hypothetical game,” you said, spinning your swivel chair to face him. “Hypothetically, let’s say someone is in a foreign world. And hypothetically, there is this foreign person. He’s a local inhabitant of that world and... Well, he’s very handsome. But he happens to be, uhm,“ you cleared your throat. “Let’s just say there’s a Romeo and Juliet stuff going on.“
Marco’s brows rose. A slow, knowing grin began to spread across his face. “Uh-huh. Go on.”
“And hypothetically, this local inhabitant has spent weeks being an arrogant, grumpy jerk, but then he suddenly has a personality breakthrough, laughs like music, and then... hypothetically this Romeo kisses Juliet’s brains out under a cloud of glowing fan lizards. Very romantic, very tragic.” You groaned, dropping your head onto the metal desk. “What does Juliet do in this completely crazy scenario?”
Marco let out a low whistle, clapping his hands together. “Jesus, Y/N. Are you in love with Jake Sully’s kid?”
You lifted your head, “I didn't say it was me!”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Marco laughed, but his expression quickly sobered, turning gentle and cautious. “But look... You know how messy this is, right? You can't... be with him. Even if we ignore the fact that his dad is public enemy number one to the corporate suits upstairs, you're an avatar driver. You live in a metal box. Your real body is here, you, a human. How does that even work long-term?”
You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “I know,” you whispered to the cold metal desk, the reality of his words heavy and suffocating. “I know it's complicated. I know that.”
The harsh reality of exactly how complicated it was arrived three days later, during a festival.
The main comnunal area of Hometree was alive with a vibrant, rhythmic energy. Drums boomed through the wooden pillars, and the tapestries glowed in deep red and orange. You were sitting near the back, nursing a cup of sweet water, looking for Neteyam’s familiar silhouette in the crowd.
You found him near the central hearth. But he wasn't alone.
A striking huntress was standing beside him. She was one of the warriors returning from a long journey trading with the southern clans, her posture proud and fierce. She laughed, a bright, clear sound, and playfully shoved Neteyam’s shoulder. Neteyam smiled back, a polite, warm smile, listening to her talk animatedly about something.
A cold, heavy knot twisted violently in your chest.
You nudged Si’an, who was sitting nearby stringing a bow. “Si’an. Who is that? The girl talking to Neteyam.”
Si’an looked over, his face instantly brightening. “Ah! That is Maneya! She has finally returned from Zeswa. She and Neteyam were batchmates. The elders have been speaking to the Olo’eyktan about their arrangement for a looong time. Everybody knows they are to be betrothed before the turning of the next season. They will definitely be mates.”
“Oh. I see. Good for him.”
But deep inside, the words felt like a physical blow, knocking the air clean out of your lungs.
Betrothed. Mate.
You stared at them across the firelit cavern. The woman was perfect. She belonged here. She didn't have a fake body, she didn't have a corporate countdown hanging over her head, and she didn't spend her days lying to a military division to keep the people alive because she is not the enemy. She was part of his world, entirely and without compromise.
A wave of bitter, stinging humiliation washed over you. You had actually let yourself believe that a kiss and some shared banter meant something in a world you were only visiting. He had a whole life mapped out, basically a fiancée waiting to walk down the aisle, and he had treated you like a fun, temporary distraction. Some sky girl to pass the time with.
You put your bowl down on the nearest table, your tail giving a sharp, defensive lash. You didn't stay for the rest of the music. You walked straight back to your kelku, your heart aching with a sudden, sharp clarity. You were a fool to think you could belong here.
You slept early. You shed your tears in your cold, metal room at Bridgehead, wiping your face, staring at the white ceiling, and deciding right then and there that nothing will come out of this.
This was what you actually loved about yourself. You were a masterclass at adaptability. You had a PhD in accepting things you cannot control. You didn’t let things trip you up for long because life kept moving, whether you were crying or not. Falling for Neteyam was a dead end. It would be an agonizing, impossible mess for both of you, and clearly, he wasn’t even looking in that direction anyway. He had a whole damn fiancée.
You had absolutely zero respect for lying men who went around kissing other women while being fully committed to someone else. You hated that despite being over a nine-foot-tall, majestic blue alien warrior, he was acting just like any trashy guy back on Earth. Nothing turns you off more than that. He’s a loser!
When you linked back into your avatar the next day, just in time for your work with Norm and Max, you took extra care braiding your hair. You made sure you looked sharp, and you felt like a brand-new person with a heavily reinforced wall.
The moment you stepped out of your kelkua and saw Neteyam already standing by the pathway, you almost frowned. See, you were a cool girl, but even the coolest girls needed a grace period after finding out they were accidentally the other woman.
“You’re finally awake,” he said, his voice almost breathless, his golden eyes instantly tracking your face. “You slept early. You left the feast.”
“Ah-ah, correction: I don’t sleep, I log out,” you said, your tone breezy, entirely devoid of yesterday's vulnerability. “I’m not a real Na’vi whatsoever. Remember when I was in my cell and I was just a limp, dead body on the floor? That’s what happens. Spooky, isn’t it?”
Without waiting for him, you started walking down the pathway.
He blinked, rushing a step to follow you. “I remember, and it is not spooky. My father told me that is just how it is with avatar bodies.”
“Yes, totally unnatural, because I’m basically like a remote-controlled toy,” you said, letting out a sharp chuckle. “And I needed to leave the feast early because I had to log out and live my real human life.”
“I tried to find you,” he said, his voice dropping into a lower, tighter tone.
You turned your head, flashing him a bright smile. “Well, I have a strict schedule to make sure my real body won't weaken and die, you know,” you replied casually. “Prolonged time in a link unit can literally kill a human. My real muscles will harden and weaken, I could die of dehydration... and I really need my human body to stay alive. She’s going to get married one day, have kids. She can’t do any of that if I keep stealing her consciousness to play avatar in the woods.”
You glanced at him and laughed, but he only looked visibly pale under the azure. He looked entirely struck dumb by the sudden bombardment of information.
He didn't know what to process first: the terrifying realization that your vulnerable human body was at constant risk of dying if you stayed with him too long, or the sudden, jarring mental image of you married to a human man, having human children, entirely out of his reach. That can’t be possible.
His mouth opened, then closed. He opened it again, clearly trying to find the words to ask you what the hell you meant by that, but the heavy hesitation caught in his throat. He closed it again.
Seeing the hesitation on his face was exactly the window you needed. You loudly clapped your hands together, instantly changing the subject.
“Anyway! Did Norm say if we’re processing the frequency modules today? Because I swear, if Max messed up again, I’m going to lose it.”
You kept up a relentless barrage of small talk, chattering about soil samples, weather patterns, and anything that wasn't personal, leaving him absolutely zero time to process his thoughts. It worked perfectly. Neteyam remained dead silent for the entire walk to the facility, his jaw set so tightly you could see the muscle leaping in his cheek.
You expected him to leave once you reached the shacks, but to your secret frustration, he still stayed. He sat on his usual metal crate, but he wasn't carving wood today. He just watched you with a dark, brooding intensity that made your skin prickle.
Right on the dot, the moment the digital clock on the lab wall clicked over to your designated departure time, Neteyam stood up.
“It is time,” he announced, his voice serious. “You cannot stay any longer. Your schedule.”
You couldn't help but chuckle. “Look at you, playing the schedule police,” you grinned, winking at Max who chuckled. “Alright, alright, keeping me alive. Good job, Commander.”
You were a complete chatterbox, too, on the way back, filling the jungle air with meaningless noise so the silence couldn't breathe. But as you approached Hometree, the welcoming view wasn't the only thing waiting for you.
Maneya was standing right at the entrance. The moment she spotted Neteyam, a bright, beautiful smile broke across her face. You made sure to stop yourself from feeling bitter about it. You need to be happy about this. Happy, happy, happy, you chanted in your mind
You stopped in your tracks for a fraction of a second, then turned to Neteyam with a slow, heavily teasing purse of your lips. He froze, looking at you with wide, panicked eyes, looking exactly like a little kid who had just been caught stealing from the cookie jar.
“Well, it’s sleep time for me, and date time for you,” you teased, your voice dripping with artificial cheer as you showed him a closed fist. “Good luck, lover boy.”
“Y/N—”
You walked right past him, offering a polite, breezy smile to Maneya. Maneya’s smile faltered slightly, her eyes narrowing with a quiet calculation as she watched you pass.
You hated this. You absolutely loathed being caught in this kind of trashy dynamic. It felt like being a guy's ‘girl best friend’, the one he was definitely crossing physical lines with behind closed doors while maintaining a perfect, public relationship with his girlfriend. It was cheap, it was messy, and you wanted absolutely no part in this anymore.
The next morning, when it was time to head to the human facility, Neteyam wasn’t outside the kelku. You were told he was caught up in an early council meeting but asks for you to wait for him. You won’t do that, considering he’s still not here and you were going to be late, and you love being punctual. You walked straight up to Tseru instead.
“Hey, Tseru, do me a favor and walk me to the lab today? Commander Grumpy is busy, and I’ve got a lot of data to run,” you said, your voice clipping with fake authority before you laughed it off.
But still, Tseru blinked, looking around nervously. “Uh... Neteyam said no one else is allowed to—”
“Neteyam is busy with his actual life,” you said, your tail lashing behind you. “Let's go.”
Reluctantly, Tseru escorted you. When you arrived at the facility, you threw yourself into your work with a terrifying, hyper-focused vengeance. You ran data with Norm and Max all day, completely ignoring the passage of time, yet you kept glancing at the windows anyway. So, he’s not only late, he wouldn’t have come if you waited for him.
“Whoa, slow down, Einstein,” Norm laughed, watching you aggressively type into a console. “You’re gonna burn out the processors.” he said, biting on his sandwich.
You chuckled, “Sorry. I’m just that way when my mind’s working fast.”
He shrugs, his human body leaning against a table. “Hey, Max and I were actually talking... have you thought about staying out here permanently? I mean, you can’t go back to Bridgehead. We could really use your brain out here full-time.”
You paused, your shoulders dropping as a wave of exhaustion hit you. You’ve though of that many times, and many times, you have been disappointed to know that it’s just not possible.
“Logistically, Norm, I can’t. My human body is sitting in a high-security sector back at Bridgehead. The link pods are massive, heavily monitored corporate property. I can’t exactly pack it into a backpack and walk out.”
“Do you have any friends on the inside who could help smuggle it out?” Max asked.
“No,” you chuckled. “No one with that kind of clearance. It’s just not possible. I’d have to give up one if I want to stay here, you know? Escape Bridgehead as a human, which is also high risk, because the military is hot on me. I lied to them about where this avatar is, remember? And if I escape as a human, I will lose the link unit, and this avatar will be useless.”
Norm closed his eyes and shook his head, defeated, while Max sighed heavily. All the brightest minds on Pandora had no solution to your problem and it just makes it all feel worse.
What you didn't know, however, was that back at Bridgehead, Dr. Danel had been silently moving mountains. Armed with the truth you had trusted him with, he had spent the last weeks aggressively lobbying the main corporate investors, convincing them that your research was too valuable to be compromised by the ongoing political tension with the military.
Now, he had managed to get the ultimate green light: a covert relocation authorization to establish an independent outpost deep within the Hallelujah Mountains. Out of the military’s eyes.
That night, emotionally exhausted from everything and physically drained from your research, you decided not to return to Hometree. You curled up on a cot in the human facility and let your consciousness fade, pulling your mind back to your human body to assist Dr. Danel with what you thought was just standard lab data cataloging.
You had no idea of the sheer, unmitigated chaos you had left behind at Hometree, though.
The moment the council meeting was over, Neteyam had stormed into the human facility, but when he arrived, he found your avatar completely out on the cot. He had tried to shake you, to wake you, but he knew you were entirely gone. He hated that the council took too long, that it had taken so much of the day, and now he wasn’t even able to talk to you about all the things he arranged in his mind last night.
And then, you didn't wake up the next day. Or the day after that.
For nearly three full days, your avatar remained a completely unresponsive shell. Back at Bridgehead, Dr. Danel had initiated a sudden relocation of the link pods. The physical logistics of disconnecting your human pods, loading them onto independent transport, and flying them deep into the floating mountains took many agonizing hours. Because of the system reboots and physical transit, you were forced to stay out of your avatar.
To Neteyam, it was a three-day nightmare. He had spent those three days in a state of absolute, paralyzed terror. Now, he’s sure you had died. But Norm, in his desire to console him, reasoned that the avatar is not dead, but that there is definitely something wrong with you, the human. They mentioned that the military was hot on you for withholding secrets about where the avatar really is, that they have probably learned you were lying about it.
It had taken Norm begging on his knees to stop him from the suicide mission of going to Bridgehead and see for himself what’s really going on. He had hovered over your sleeping avatar body, refusing to go on patrol, his heart crumpling every time he thinks of his absolute foolishness. He should have talked to you. It's only that he didn’t know if you were on the same page with him.
He likes you very much. Probably even more than that. You are an amazing woman who can get anything, anyone, you want, and he refuses to believe that you will settle for someone... like him. He wants you and he had never been more sure of anything in his entire life, but he didn’t know if you would ever entertain that.
He kissed you, and you kissed him back, but does that mean anything to you like it did for him? You have a whole life outside of this avatar. Heck, you have your own world, and this was just what he has. When you said you were going to marry and have a family in your human form, you couldn’t have made it clearer that you do not see your future locked up in this body.
And now, he could lose any chance he could have had because he was too scared to take a risk. So what if you happen not to like him the way he wants you to? It doesn’t matter.
On the afternoon of the third day, you linked back to your avatar as soon as the outpost systems in the Hallelujah Mountains were settled. The cold, sterile air of the facility rushed into your lungs, but before you could even adjust to the light, a heavy, trembling force slammed into you.
Two massive, muscular blue arms wrapped around your shoulders, hauling you upright from the cot and pulling you fiercely against a broad, solid chest. You gasped, blinking in shock as you smelled the distinct scent of mint.
It was Neteyam. He was disheveled, his breathing ragged, holding onto you with a terrifying, desperate strength as if he were trying to fuse your body into his own.
Norm and Max rushed into the room, looking exhausted but small smiles were written on their faces. “Kid, what happened to you?” Max asked. “Got trouble with the military? I almost got war flashbacks, you know. With Jake and all.”
You were grinning at them. “No, no, quite the opposite. It was a long story,” you said, bringing your hands up to push against Neteyam’s chest so he would release his grip.
“What happened to you?” he asked when he finally pulled away.
The vulnerability in his voice tugged at your heartstrings. It’s not something you’ve ever heard from him and it broke away at the wall you tried to put up. Norm glanced at Neteyam and smirked at you knowingly.
“Just to let you know, he has been here for a record-breaking duration of three days and a half,” he said.
Your brows furrowed, rearing your head back to look at him. “You didn’t go home?”
Like a chastised child, he threw you a sharp look through the fringe of his lashes. “You were not waking up.”
“And you know that’s simply me not linking to my avatar,” you pressed your palm against his shoulder.
He caught your hand and didn't let go. “And what of your human self? Are you alright, were you hurt, were you barred from linking to this body?” he asked, his voice hard and heated.
You blinked, your panicking eyes flitting to Max and Norm who are slowly backing away. “Uh, yes, she’s alright. Not hurt. And no, not barred from linking,” you said.
His face smoothed over, looking calmer than ever. “Then why...?”
You pushed your lips forward, stopping yourself from flashing a menacing smile. “I was on a date and then I got married—”
“What?” he asked, his voice rising. “You got married?”
You pursed your lips, looking at his face fall like you just told him he didn’t pass a test. “I’m just kidding,“ you said with a deadpan face. “We did a major relocation. Dr. Danel managed to snag a life-changing opportunity—”
You weren’t able to finish your sentence when his lips came crashing down on yours. His large hand was clamped at your nape, too, deepening the kiss. You closed your eyes and kissed him back for what felt like forever, just savoring the fact that you are kissing again, and then you remembered.
You pushed against his chest, moving away from him. “No, no, no,” you said, pointing a finger at him. “You cannot do this. To me and that huntress who would be your mate. I don’t know if there’s a concept of being a playboy in this world, but that’s you. You can't just kiss me whenever you feel like it—”
“Huntress who would be my mate?” he echoed. “Maneya? She is not going to be my mate—”
“I didn’t strike you for a liar, but I guess you also are—”
His large hands held either of your upper arms to make you face him properly before he looked in you in the eyes, dead serious. “I'm not. I am not betrothed to Maneya. The council wants that; the council wants her to be my mate, but I don't. I never did, and I honestly never knew what I wanted in that area of my life, but I know now. In fact, I have a ten-year plan that involves this avatar that only links back to her body when she feels like it. I never knew Eywa to be this cruel, but to have me fall in love with someone I can't have is a cruel thing to play at.”
You blinked twice and then thrice. For the second time in your life, and because of the same person, you couldn’t find your words, and you are acting the way you never want to: stupid. You watched his face go from emotionally charged and deeply romantic to that of acceptance.
He nodded once, looking down at your hand, linking his lips wet. “I know you don’t see me that way, but I wanted to get that out,” his eyes snapped up to you. “I don’t want to be just friends with you and I want you to know that.”
Your heart felt like it had stopped beating, then jumpstarted only for it to feel like you’ve ran a marathon. “Was it... necessary to say all that looking extremely handsome... Or?” You drew a circle on your face in the air using your pointing finger.
It was his time to look like he couldn't find the words. “I...I don’t—I don’t know...” he stammered, bringing a hand up to touch his side braid.
You smiled at him, raising a hand to cup his jaw and cheek. “I appreciate that, Neteyam...” you mumbled, hating that you had to wipe off the hope on his face. “But it’s... It’s complicated—”
“Because you’re not like me? I don’t care—”
“Yes, and more. I’m living a double life. I’m a human and this is not me. This is not the real me—”
“So what? This,” he motioned at your body. “is just a vessel. Who you are is whatever you have shown me, shown us. There’s a human version and I like her, too, because that’s still you. It doesn’t matter to me, Y/N.”
“It matters to me,” you said, emphasizing your point. “It matters to me that you will be in trouble for being with me. It matters to me that you will find it hard to live a normal life because you’re with me. It’s not as easy as you think it will be. What you feel for me—”
“It’s not going away. I know myself. It will happen only once and I will never feel this way again,” he vowed. “All of those things you were saying, I can live with that. Don’t worry about me. I’ll worry about us. I’ll handle my people.”
You bit your lip, you gaze dropping down. “I... I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll help you.” he said.
Your eyes snapped up, your brows furrowed. “Help me how?”
He looked at you seriously. “Think.”
By helping you think, it means an unyielding, high-frequency presence. He walks you back and forth from Hometree to the facility, he materializes in front of you whenever you so much as need a heavy crate of stabilizers moved, already lifting it before you could reach for a hoist. If you were sitting in front of a terminal to analyze data, he would be sitting in a corner, sharpening his tools, but still having his eyes locked onto you with a steady, quiet intensity that made it completely impossible to focus on a single string of code.
Eventually, you needed to do something about that. Which is why you pulled Norm and Max for a talk one afternoon, explaining the massive administrative change Dr. Danel had pulled off, the relocation authorization that had successfully shifted your human pods entirely out from under military surveillance and into the hidden sanctuary of the Hallelujah Mountains.
Norm scratched the back of his head, a stunned look passing over his features. “Boy, if this isn't familiar. It's like history repeating itself with better hardware. So, you’re staying here... for real?”
“If you’ll have me,” you nodded firmly, crossing your arms. “I need you to talk to Jake, Norm. I want to stay based at this facility permanently instead of trekking back to Hometree. It’ll save me time every single day, and I can just dive straight into work once I link back to this body.”
You didn't mention the real reason, but you were secretly hoping the distance would act as a natural deterrent. If you weren't at Hometree, maybe Neteyam’s intense focus would naturally drift back to his actual duties.
“Done,” Norm nodded, clapping you on the arm. “I'll clear it with Jake. He'll understand.”
But your master plan failed spectacularly. The distance wasn't a deterrent at all; if anything, it only made Neteyam more deliberate. He was a man of his word and entirely a man of action. The moment he learned you were staying at the facility, he simply adjusted his patrol rotations. He began showing up during the exact blocks of time he knew you’d be in your avatar to work with Norm, silently stepping in to assist with manual labor, his quiet devotion remaining completely unbothered by the miles of jungle between you.
The internal conflict grew so loud that it bled right into your human shifts. Back at the newly settled outpost in your real body, Dr. Danel noticed your distraction. You were aggressively cataloging plates with a tense, exhausted look on your face.
“Why don’t you sit and rest for a moment, Y/N?” Dr. Danel’s leveled voice said behind you. “You seem distracted. Are you doing too much work in your avatar?”
You shook your head. “No, not really. It’s nothing I can handle, Doc. It’s something...” you fell back on a rolling chair, sighing as I looked at the pink pads of your fingers.
“Jake Sully’s son...” he trailed, making you snap your eyes up at him. He had a humored look on his face, “Marco had a slip-up.”
You glared at Marco’s link unit, knowing he’s there because you saw his avatar making his way out earlier. “Oh, I don’t believe that! He snitched on purpose!”
He laughed, still busy working in the bay area. “I wouldn’t have repeated it to another soul, kid.”
You sighed, propping your cheek on your palm. “It’s just that... Doc, have you ever thought of falling in love... here? I know what you’re going to tell me. It’s complicated, it’s hard to make it happen, but... He likes me. And he’s really showing me that he wants me. It would have been better if he didn’t, you know? That it’s just me harboring an unusual class on a very handsome blue alien, but no...”
He listened to you rant the entire saga. You told him everything. How Neteyam sent you to jail, how he became your grumpy, jerk bodyguard, how he softened over time, the kiss under the fan lizards, the weight of your double life, the fiancée that isn’t really a fiancée, and how absolutely terrified you were that you were in deep, irreversible trouble with Jake Sully’s oldest son.
Dr. Danel listened quietly, letting out a soft, amused chuckle as he leaned against a sterile lab counter. “What is there to be scared about, kid? It’s love. I’ll actually give you some credit for thinking this through so thoroughly, because heaven knows Jake Sully didn't think for a single second when he crossed that line.”
You pushed your lips forward into a pout, staring down at your human hands.
“You are incredibly lucky to find something like that here, Y/N,” he said gently, his expression softening. “When we left Earth, we know what left behind. The opportunity to just... be human. We gave up everything in pursuit of science. To find love, hope, and real life, something completely separate from what is strictly necessary for survival on another planet, is an incredible stroke of luck.”
You looked up at him and slowly nodding as the truth of it settled into your chest.
“You are a scientist, Y/N, and I know it is your job to analyze and think,” he added, giving you a reassuring smile. “But try not thinking when it comes to this.”
That was the exact, final push you needed to leap straight off the cliff.
Neteyam had absolutely no idea, but your choice was made.
Later that afternoon, back in your avatar, you asked to him to go down the nearby river under the guise of collecting aquatic plant specimens, which you won’t really need that much on the work you’re doing with Norm and Max, but you could study on it separately.
Now, you’re watching the water rushed softly over the smooth river stones, casting dancing reflections of light against the canopy. You sat on the riverbank, watching him walk over to stand directly in front of you.
A familiar, wicked smirk tugged at your lips, your tail swaying mischievously behind you that his eyes dropped down there as you were reaching out, you caught his large hand and pulled him firmly toward you until his massive torso was securely caged between your thighs.
Before he could even ask what you were doing, you leaned up and caught his lips in a deep, deliberate kiss.
You could tell it completely caught him off guard. Neteyam’s ears twitched in surprise, his head rearing back slightly as the kiss broke so he could look down into your eyes. The sudden, brilliant flare of pure happiness in his golden gaze made your heart soar. You leaned right back in, kissing him a second time, but he was far too wise to let you off that easily. He held his position, withholding the full force of his response, his hands anchoring gently on your waist.
“Tell me you are giving me a chance, and we will kiss more,” he whispered, his voice thick, gravelly, and intense.
“I am giving you a chance,” you whispered back, your fingers tangling in the beads of his braids. “In fact, it’s a really huge chance. Whatever you’re thinking about, Neteyam, I’m right beside you.”
He let out a shuddering breath of pure relief, his shoulders visibly dropping as he grounded himself in your words. Both of his large hands slid up to cradle your face, and he kissed you. Hard, deep, and possessively, before pulling back just enough to stare directly into your eyes.
“You will never regret that. I will not let you.”
You smiled at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him back down. There was an understanding.
Or so you thought. Because there was an obvious cultural barrier at play here, because to you, you two were officially in a relationship now. Dating, plain and simple. But to him, he was still technically in the formal phase of courting you.
The very next day, you stepped out of the facility, stretching your arms and fully prepared for work, and to seeing your new boyfriend by midday, once he comes after his patrol, only to find Neteyam already standing by the path holding a giant, freshly killed hexapede. It was slung over his broad shoulders while his other hand was holding a basket of something.
You stopped dead in your tracks. You blinked once. Twice.
“Uh... good morning to you, too, hunting god,” you stammered, pointing a finger at everything. “Are we... having a very aggressive breakfast, or did you bring me a giant, heavy prop for our walk?”
Neteyam walked forward, his expression deadpan but his ears held exceptionally high. He dropped the carcass right at your feet.
“I have brought you the first kill of my current rotation,” he said, his voice deep. “It’s what we do to show our intended that we can provide. I will provide for you from now on.”
You stared at the dead animal, then up at him, your lips twitching as you tried to process the cuteness of this all.
“Neteyam, sweetheart... I live in a metal shack now with a microwave and a bunch of scientists who eat synthetic protein bars,” you said slowly, peering up at him through your lashes. “But... I guess I can force them to eat what I do with this. Or we could bring this back to the cooks back at Hometree?” you bit your lip, your eyes snagging to the basket full of fruits. “Oh, this, however! I would very much love to keep.”
“Bring back to Hometree? This is traditional. A warrior brings a tribute to the woman he courts to show he can sustain her,” his ears pinned back against his head.
“Courts?” You echoed, stepping right into his space and boldly grabbing his face, pulling him down into a quick, smacking kiss on the lips that entirely shattered his stern warrior posture. His eyes went wide as you pulled back, grinning like a menace. “Baby, we kissed really crazy under a cloud of glowing bugs and I told you I'm riding shotgun on your future plans. The trial period is over. You passed. We’re dating!”
“Dating?” he echoed, the human word sounding completely foreign on his tongue. His forehead creased in confusion. “What is day-ting? Is it a human ritual where you do not accept food?”
“It means you don't have to carry a hundred-pound carcass through the jungle just to prove you're a catch,” you chuckled, reaching up to playfully tug on one of his ears, making it twitch. “It means we are together. It means instead of giving me dead meat, you can just do this.”
You leaned in again, your hands sliding up his chest before wrapping around his neck, pulling him into a long, slow, dizzying kiss that had his hands dropping the basket he had been holding. He melted instantly, his large hands clamping onto your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
When you finally broke away, you were both breathing a little heavier. You winked at him, tapping his nose with your finger.
“See? Way less heavy than a yerik, and arguably much better for morale,” you teased. You patted his muscled chest, “I’m keeping the fruits and the yerik goes to Hometree communal kitchen. I’m eating dinner there tonight so I’m still eating what you hunted for. That okay with you, lover boy?”
You pursed your lips and watched him bite his lower lip. “Yeah,” he mumbled.
“Okay. I’m going to work! I have data to run, and my boyfriend is making me late!”
Neteyam stood in the middle of the path, looking between the dead animal on the ground and your retreating form, his face a spectacular mix of utter bewilderment and absolute, smitten defeat.
“Humans make no sense,” he muttered loudly, though a massive, helpless smile was finally breaking across his face as he hauled the kill back up.
Since you have already made him understood the concept of dating, you have instituted an intense making-out policy that definitely shouldn't have been part of the official manual, but you casually told him you were merely ‘exploring your avatar body's sensory responses to external stimuli,’ and giving him an absolute green light to do whatever he wanted.
But of course, the pretense didn’t mean anything at all, now that you were deep in the woods, sitting directly on his lap, straddling his waist and devouring his mouth. His large hands were everywhere, squeezing your waist with a firm, desperate grip before sliding up to fondle your breasts, while your hands locked around his neck, pulling him closer. You were kissing like you wanted to completely consume each other, your breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps.
You shifted your hips against him, a loud, breathless moan spilling from your throat as the solid, heavy ridge of his arousal pressed firmly against your softness through the thin fabric of your loincloth. You have known that being in your avatar and experiencing this kind of sheer intensity from a physical friction makes your body react exactly as you would have as a human, and it was incredible.
“Yawne...” he groaned deeply, allowing you to hump against him, but the sheer stimulation obviously weakened him.
Neteyam leaned his back heavily against the trunk of the tree, throwing his head back as his eyes closed in pure bliss. He kept his mouth glued to yours, but his entire focus had zeroed in on the spot where his hardness is repeatedly meeting your soft mound.
You pulled your mouth away to catch your breath, and a low, needy moan escaped his lips. You smiled, sliding your mouth down to kiss his sharp jawline, nipping at the exposed skin of his neck, and enjoying the way he’s whimpering. You shifted your hips again and again, a sudden, shivering wave of a climax ripping straight through you. You hugged him tightly, hiding your face in his shoulder as your kisses against his neck became wet and sloppy.
He held you firmly, his grip tightening as he maneuvered your body down onto the soft grass. Your sight spun for a moment as you looked up at the canopy, your breath hitching as Neteyam leaned down to kiss and suck hungrily at your breasts. You reached up to grab his shoulders, but he caught your hands, intertwining his long fingers securely with yours, using his other hand to firmly slide your loincloth aside.
The cool air made direct contact with your slick wetness, causing you to shiver, but the chill vanished instantly as you felt his warm mouth press directly against your center.
“Oh!” you moaned aloud, bringing your free hand up to bite down on your knuckles as his tongue began to rhythmically lick and suck at your sensitive flesh.
Your chest heaved rapidly, your mind completely spinning as he continued to pleasurably devour you. The sensation was so intense you were literally shaking, your hips bucking instinctively against his mouth. Neteyam squeezed your thighs tightly, holding you perfectly in place, refusing to let you pull away until it left you completely limp and breathless.
He slowly kissed his way back up your body, hovering over you with a soft, triumphant smile as he caught your lips in a gentle kiss.
“Come back to Hometree with me tonight,” he whispered against your mouth, his thumb tracing your cheekbone.
You blinked up at him lazily, your tail twitching as shivers ran down your spine. “What are they cooking tonight?” you asked, your voice a breathless rasp.
When he told you they were roasting the exact sweet-root and river fish dish you had obsessed over the week before, your resolve crumbled instantly. You smoothed down your hair, adjusted your feathered top, and walked back to Hometree right beside him.
When you arrived, the communal area was already humming with its usual evening life. Over the last moon, the people of the clan had slowly gotten used to the sight of you walking side-by-side with Neteyam. At first, the warriors had kept their distance, watching with guarded eyes, knowing how Neteyam is with you. But seeing how you still have your relentless, bright energy with you, and that Neteyam isn’t really barring any of them from speaking to you, your friendship with them became more permanent.
That didn't mean the council was happy, though.
As you and Neteyam walked toward your seats, you could feel the heavy glares radiating from their circles. You know from the warriors that Maneya’s parents deeply disapproved of this. For generations, traditional arrangements kept the clan’s bloodlines strong and predictable. The elders had been aggressively pushing for Maneya to be his mate before the next season turned. To them, an avatar, a dreamwalker who isn’t even real, was an insult to their customs.
And let’s not talk about the fact that their Olo’eyktan was once a dreamwalker himself.
Neteyam felt the weight of those stares, but his jaw only set firmer. He guided you to the table of warriors he knew would defend you when he’s not around, ensuring you got the best cut of the roasted river fish before he excused himself, noting that his father had signaled for him near the upper dais.
Neytiri sat beside Jake, her sharp eyes tracing the silhouette of her eldest son as he approached.
“Neteyam,” Jake said, his voice quiet but carrying the heavy weight of a man who had just spent two hours listening to old men complain. “The council is still talking. Maneya’s family is pushing hard for the betrothal announcement. They want a firm answer before the next hunt.”
Neytiri stepped forward, her hand resting gently on her son’s shoulder, her gaze searching his face. “Son... are you entirely sure of this? The path you are choosing is not walked on smooth stones. She is... She does not belong with us—”
“Like Dad used to not belong?” Neteyam asked.
Neytiri tilted her head. “That is different,” she replied.
“Mother, it’s not,” he looked down at his mother, his expression softening but remaining completely unyielding. “And I am sure of her,” he added, his deep, gravelly voice carrying a profound certainty that made both of his parents still. “My whole life, I have done exactly what was expected of me. I trained until my fingers bled, I flew the sky lines and led the patrols before I was a boy of thirteen years. I was willing to follow everything you, the council, and the elders told me to do because I thought that was what a leader must be.”
He paused, his eyes drifting across to where you were sitting. You were currently mid-sentence, aggressively gesturing with a piece of sweet-root while your friends laughed loudly at whatever ridiculous story you were telling. A soft, breathless warmth passed over Neteyam’s features.
“But until her, I never chose anything for myself,” he continued, turning back to his parents. “I realized that if I allow people who do not understand my heart to decide my future, I will never be the leader this clan needs. I cannot lead a people with a hollowed being. She is what makes my heart happy. She is who I see in my future, and even if it is difficult, even if it is a mess of two worlds... I would not have it any other way. I want her, and I will keep her. I already have her, and I will not let anyone take her away from me.”
Jake let out a low breath, a small smirk of pure pride cutting through his mouth. He clapped a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. He recognized that exact, stubborn reckless look. He had worn it himself years ago. Neytiri herself had a streak of it years ago.
Neytiri watched her son, her ears twitching slightly. She looked at the determination in his posture, the fierce fire in his eyes, and despite the lingering complications, her own heart swelled with an undeniable pride. He’s no longer a boy. He was a man taking his destiny by the throat. He was a true leader.
“Go to her, then,” Neytiri murmured softly, the corner of her lips pulling into a gentle smile.
Neteyam nodded respectfully to his parents and turned, walking back down toward your table. The moment he stepped back into your peripheral vision, you looked up from your meal, flashing him a smile so bright, so full of life, that his heart did a violent, fluttering flip against his ribs.
From the dais, Jake reached out and took Neytiri’s hand in his own. Neytiri turned her head to look at her husband, squeezing his hand as an understanding smile passed between them. Her son had made his choice, and she believed in her son.
Neteyam slid onto the mat right next to you, his long arm immediately circling around your waist to pull you tightly against his side, entirely indifferent to the whispering elders above.
“Miss me, lover boy?” you teased, nudging his ribs with your elbow.
“Always,” he murmured against your ear, his grip tightening as he stole a piece of your sweet-root, his heart completely at peace.
After the feast, while you were contentedly wiping your hands, Neteyam stood up and smoothly announced, “I am walking her back to the facilities.”
He did walk you. But along the way, his hand tightened around yours, and the path you were taking led to a different one.
“Remember when you asked me about... the collective consciousness of our people?” he asked, but you were already too mesmerized by the bioluminescent weeping willow glowing purple from the distance.
“Yes,” you breathed. “That is the Tree of Souls, right?”
He held your hand and pulled you closer until you two were under its tendrils. “The collective consciousness you were talking about... I don’t understand the technicality, but it is true. Everything we are, everything we know... is in this tree,” he touched a tendril. “Our ancestors and our dead, they are here and they are never gone. They live with us in every plant and every leaf. This tree has witnessed every moment in our lives since we were born and it will keep them in this world long after we are gone.”
A soft smile cut through your lips as hot tears pricked your eyes. “That is beautiful, Neteyam... Dr. Augustine was right. She was right about everything,” you breathed, touching a glowing tendril before you turned to him.
Neteyam stepped closer, the pulsing light from the hanging tendrils illuminating the profound, worshipful softness in his eyes. He reached out, his thumb gently catching the stray tear that escaped your lashes.
“I brought you here because I want Eywa to know I am grateful that she heard me,” he whispered, carrying a solemn weight that made your breath catch. “I want my ancestors to know that my heart belongs to you. No council, no tradition, not even who you are will change that.”
Your face crumpled as your heart swelled with raw emotion, his words completely shattering whatever remaining inhibitions you had. You smiled through the tears, gathering him in your arms and wrapping them tightly around him. “My heart belongs to you, too, Neteyam. This heart and the human heart,” you chuckled, making him smile.
You leaned up and caught his lips in a deep kiss. Neteyam let out a low, gravelly rumble, his hands instantly locking onto your waist and lifting you up slightly, pinning your back flat against the massive, smooth root of the glowing tree.
“Oh,” you gasped, a wicked little smirk flashing on your face despite your breath hitching. “Look at you. Someone’s getting aggressive...”
He groaned as his head dipped, his lips abandoning your mouth to trail a path of hot, heavy kisses down your jawline and into the dip of your neck. He nipped playfully at your skin, making you shiver and giggle all at once.
His hands slid from your face, down your shoulders, his long, deft fingers untying the bindings of your top, making you raise a brow. The soft fabric fell away, exposing your breasts to the cool air and his incredibly dark, hungry gaze.
“Okay,” you whispered as his mouth closed over one peak, suckling hungrily. You arched into his touch, your fingers tangling in his thick braids, pulling him closer. “Okay...”
He pulled back, his golden eyes burning. “Tell me what you want, my love,” he commanded gently. “Tell me how you want it.”
“I want to feel all of you inside me,” you breathed.
He smirked, standing up straighter and reaching behind him. You blinked and swallowed, watching the pink tendrils of his kuru dance as he held it up. His head tilted.
“Not happening without this,” he murmured.
You looked at him with wide eyes. “The bond... We will be—”
“Mates. I will be yours, for life,” he licks his lips. “and you will be mine. For life.” This time, his eyes darkened significantly.
A soft smile cut through your lips, reaching behind you to grab the thick plait of braid and bring it between you. “I think I want that...”
He swallowed and nodded, but he looked like he was going to melt. He held your hand and pulled you down, and once you were both kneeling under the purple glow of the Tree of Souls, he brought his kuru to bind with yours, sending an instantaneous jolt of electricity down your spine that spread through your limbs.
You have never made a bond with any creature on Pandora. You didn’t know what your kuru could do or give you if you connected it to any living being, but the rush of emotions through the bond is an unexplainable phenomenon that not even a scientist like you could come up with words for. You were feeling the absolute weight of his devotion, how you now his entire world, anchored to his soul forever.
You stared up at Neteyam and watched the gold of his eyes got nearly swallowed by the black. You smiled as the warmth of the memory of the first time he ever saw you surged through the bond, his secret admiration, and the quiet moments he spent hoping for this exact night.
This is insane, you thought. This is more than what any human would ever experience. You moved closer to him, reaching for his face and he leaned down to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you while his other hand fumbled with the ties of your loincloth around your tail. Once it’s off and you’re naked as the day you were successfully-made-and-put-in-an-amnio-tank, he lowered you down on the grass.
With a primal glint in his gaze, Neteyam pushed himself up over you, and you were treated to the view of the broad expanse of his shoulder and chest. You bit your lip as you watched him strip his own loincloth away. Your eyes snapped down when his cock sprang free, a powerful and thick column of dark indigo, engorged, and pulsing with heavy life.
Your jaw literally dropped as you stared down, your brain temporarily short-circuiting at the sheer scale of it. “Oh, sweet Lord,” you blurted out, your eyes widening as his large hand grabbed your thigh. “Hold on, timeout!” He stopped and looked at you. You bit your lip, “We need to slow down. Neteyam, honey, this body is technically a virgin and she has not trained to take an absolute monster like that! Are you trying to split her in half?”
Neteyam blinked, a sudden, hilariously confused expression fracturing his fierce look. “A... monster?” He looked down at himself, then back at you, his ears twitching in genuine bewilderment. “Yawne, it is... normal. I am normal.”
“For a nine-foot-tall, maybe!” you chuckled, though you were already biting your lip, your tail thumping against the grass excitedly as you spread your legs for him, “Alright. Go big or go home!”
He let out a breathless laugh, the sweet, adoring man returning for a fraction of a second as he gently pushed you back onto the soft grass. He hovered over you, positioning himself between your legs, his cock brushing against your slick folds and making you gasp.
“Look at me, baby,” he rough-whispered. Slowly, he began to push.
The thick head found your opening, and he pressed with a gentle, patient insistence. You whimpered, your hips arching instinctively to meet him as his shaft slowly stretched you inch by inch until he was buried completely to the hilt.
You trembled, a deep, incredibly satisfying fullness making your head spin. He paused, letting you adjust, his eyes never leaving yours as his large hands tenderly cradled your face.
“Good?” he murmured, kissing you softly.
“Yes,” you panted against his lips, your nails digging into his muscular shoulders.
He began to move with slow, deliberate thrusts, pulling almost entirely out before plunging back in. Your hips rose rhythmically to meet his, his hand locked around one of your thighs to spread you wider.
“Oh, baby,” you commanded, your voice raw. “Faster.”
He obeyed instantly. His thrusts gained a powerful, forceful momentum, his hips slamming against yours. Your breathless moans mingled with his deep, guttural grunts of pleasure. He picked up the pace, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, his entire body straining with the sweet effort of pleasing you.
“I’m going to come,” you cried out, your vision blurring with white sparks.
Neteyam smiled, a primal, satisfied grin breaking across his face. He pulled back just enough to torment you, then drove back in with a powerful, precise angle that hit your sweetest spot dead-on. A loud whimper tore from your throat as your body completely seized. A violent orgasm ripped through you, your walls clenching tightly around his cock, milking him fiercely. You bucked and writhed beneath him, completely undone.
Holding you tight, Neteyam rode you over the wave of your climax, his own release building rapidly. With a final, guttural roar, he emptied his heavy warmth deep inside you, his body shuddering violently as he collapsed gently onto you, his chest heaving, his heart hammering wildly against your own.
You lay there for a long time, completely breathless, the scent of the jungle and sex heavy in the air. His cock, still buried inside you, pulsed gently as you felt the warm wetness of his seed filling you.
You let out a weak, shaky giggle, your fingers weakly patting his arm. “Okay... experiment concluded. Avatar structural integrity successfully maintained. Ten out of ten, Commander.”
Neteyam let out a soft, exhausted chuckle against your neck, kissing his way up to your lips to give you a tender, deeply sweet kiss. “Glad to hear that,” he mumbled. “I love you so much.
You stared up at him with bright eyes, grinning at him. “I love you, Neteyam.”
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
The link unit let out a loud, sharp hiss as soon as you are back in your body. You breathed in the slightly metallic air, your heart beating rhythmically against your ribs as you let what just happened sink in. You mated with Neteyam. You are bounded to him forever, and you know it.
Before you could even fully stretch your cramped limbs, you heard the heavy footsteps of what you know belong to the military. You rolled your eyes when three soldiers, clad in full tactical gear, appeared near your link unit.
“Jesus... do you guys ever knock? Or do they just teach you how to kick down doors at Bridgehead basic training?”
The soldier in the center stepped right up to the edge of the link bed. “You've been under for fourteen hours straight, brainiac. For someone who claims to be locked up in a dungeon by the local savages, we've noticed you log into your avatar for an awful lot of hours. Day in, day out. The data logs from this shack are lighting up the grid like a Christmas tree.”
You pulled yourself to sit up, looking at him and letting your face twist into an expression of sheer, unadulterated exhaustion. A mask you had perfected over the last months.
“Yeah, Miller, it's called survival,” you snapped, your voice raspy as you reached for a bottle of water on the side table. “I'm trying to keep the avatar alive. Those people are still feeding the damn thing, alright? They haven't chopped its head off yet because they think it's a harmless and pathetic. If I don't log back in there regularly, if I don't keep up the act of being their perfect captive, it's going to die. And then this multi-billion-dollar asset becomes completely useless to the company. Do you want to explain that loss to the board?”
Miller narrowed his eyes, leaning down until his exopack hissed near your face. “Then why the need for this relocation? If you're not hiding anything, why did you insist on moving your entire setup out to the mountains? This shack used to be within standard radius. Now you're out here in the fog.”
“Because your surveillance is loud, stupid, and they do nothing but intimidate the ones who are actually working to advance what Earth knows about this world,” you replied.
Miller sneered, but before he could step any closer, Dr. Danel stepped forward, his sharp, weathered face set in a furious glare as he planted herself directly between the soldiers and your link unit.
“That is enough, Corporal!” he said. “πou have no right to come into this facility and strong-arm us. The research division is not under the jurisdiction of General Ardmore's immediate military arm. We operate under a separate corporate charter, and I am reminding you,right now, that we are here to research, not submit to your paranoia!”
The two soldiers behind Miller shifted their weight, but Danel didn't back down an inch. He pointed a finger directly at Miller’s chest.
“Other scientists have also requested independent outposts precisely because of this toxic, suffocating surveillance from the military,” Danel continued, her chest heaving. “You are disrupting research critical for the corporation. Now, back off.”
You took the cue, leaning forward and putting on a sad face. “And that recom you guys keep talking about? He's probably dead. I've never heard of him again. In fact, the last time I saw the Na’vis pass through the lower cells, they were carrying his gear. He was shot by a heavy arrow directly to the chest. He definitely couldn't have survived that.” You let your voice crack, squeezing your eyes shut as if the memory was too painful to bear. “My avatar is surviving in a hard, cold, dark, and lonely place, Miller. You don't know what it's like for me right now. Every time I open my eyes in that body, I am surrounded by nine-foot-tall killers. I'm doing my job. What are you doing besides giving me a headache?”
From the corner of the lab, Marco immediately stepped up, patting your back with massive, exaggerated sweeps of his hand, nodding at Miller with an expression of deep, solemn sympathy. “Yeah, man. Leave her alone. Cut her some slack.”
Miller stared at you before finally letting out a harsh breath through his nose and took a step back.
“We'll be back to check the logs again next week,” Miller said, his voice dropping into a low threat. “If we find out you're doing anything other than counting leaves out here, General Ardmore will have you back in a brig at Bridgehead before sunset. Let's move out.”
The soldiers turned on their heels, exiting the shack with the same aggressive energy they had entered with. The heavy metal door slammed shut, the lock clicking into place with.
Marco immediately dropped his hands from your shoulders, letting out a massive breath. “Holy shit... that was an insane clutch, Y/N. Seriously, my heart was in my throat,” he said. “What took you so long out there? You know you can't keep this lie up for long, right? They're going to cross-reference the log feeds eventually.”
You dropped your head into your hands, your messy hair falling over your face. A deep, heavy sigh racked your small frame. “I know, Marco. I know, and... and... and...“
Dr. Danel adjusted his glasses, his eyes sharp as he looked down at your confused face. “What's going on, kid? You look like you're about to throw up.”
You bit your dry lip, slowly raising your head to look at them sheepishly. Your face felt hot, a deep flush spreading across your cheeks that had absolutely nothing to do with the link. “I... I mated with Neteyam.”
You watched their faces at the silence stretched
Marco blinked, then his jaw dropped low. “Jake Sully’s son is named Neteyam?!” he yelped.
“Jesus, what?” Dr. Danel said at the exact same time.
“Yes, his name’s Neteyam,” you told Marco, your voice squeaking slightly as you tried to look anywhere but at Dr. Danel’s gaze.
Marco burst into a sudden, loud chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s probably a Na’vi version of Nathan—”
“Right?!” you laughed, the sheer absurdity of the situation breaking through your panic. “I told him once that he looks like a Nathan! And his brother’s named Lo’ak. That's like Luke or—”
“Kid, listen to me,” Dr. Danel interrupted, his voice cutting through the laughter you were sharing with Marco, and he didn't look amused. In fact, his face had gone completely pale. “You mated with Jake Sully’s son? The firstborn?”
“Yes...” you said, your voice dropping into a small, sheepish whisper. You rubbed the back of your neck. “We... we made the bond. Under the Tree of Souls.”
Dr. Danel took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a look of profound gravity. “We can't stay here,” he said flatly.
“W-why?” you asked. “We're safe out here in the ridge, aren't we? The military barely wants to fly through the vortex fields.“
“Y/N, the Na’vi mate for life. You are his wife,” Dr. Danel said, looking at you with an intensity that made you realize the full weight of what you had done. “You cannot be his wife for only half a day and be here in a tin can for the other half. The military is out on your tail. One day soon, they will find out where you really are. And when they realize who you are to the Omatikaya now? They will use you. Or they will kill you to get to them. And that boy will not give you up.”
You bit your lip. “I really brought him trouble.”
“It could be the other way around, too. That boy has given the military a huge headache since we got back here,” he said. “He will bring them trouble. Because of you.”
You bit your lip so hard you tasted copper, your cheeks burning a violent, deep pink as the memory of Neteyam's heavy warmth and the sheer mind-melting intensity of the bond flashed through your mind. He’s so hot.
Marco narrowed his eyes at you, a teasing smirk spreading across his face as he noticed your furious blushing. He opened his mouth to make a horribly inappropriate joke about Na’vi anatomy, but he caught the look on Dr. Danel's face and remembered the severity of the situation.
“Doc, what do you mean about not staying here?” Marco asked, his tone turning serious. “Where are we supposed to go? We have tons of delicate equipment in this shack.”
“Right. Does that mean you want us to relocate directly to the Omatikaya?” you asked, your heart hammering
“Yes,” Dr. Danel answered without a single shred of hesitation. “Because you chose your life, Y/N, and we’re going to make it easy for you. We are your team. We aren't going to let the RDA turn you into a political prisoner.”
The sheer, unconditional protection in his voice brought a sudden, fierce prickle of tears to your eyes. You swallowed hard, looking at the two scientists who had become your real family on this moon.
“We need to get out of the military’s eyes altogether,” Dr. Danel continued, pacing the small width of the lab. "Disappear. I don’t see why we can’t work with Norm and Max if they'll have us. Besides, this needs to be done before the military sets their foot on our necks and keeps you hostage, which I bet will turn into something unimaginable.”
“But how?” you reasoned, gesturing around the space. “The link units are here. Our labs are here. We need everything inside this shack, we can't just leave it behind. If we disconnect the main trunk, the data will corrupt.”
“We can... we can have it airlifted,” Marco suggested, snapping his fingers. “I can ask a favor from Jason. He flies a Samson. I can bribe him with some of that real coffee we smuggled in.”
“No, we can't do that,” Dr. Danel countered immediately. “The RDA radar grid around Bridgehead tracks every single aviation signature. If a Samson flies into Omatikaya territory, they’ll trace the flight path instantly. They'll follow it right to our new doorstep.”
“Well, we can't lift a these reinforced steel container on our own, Doc,” Marco muttered, throwing his hands up. “Unless you've grown some super-strength over the weekend.“
“Wait,” you said, raising a hand, a sudden spark of an idea lighting up your brain. “I... I can talk to Neteyam. Norm and Max were already asking me to stay permanently at the human facilities. I think they'd like more brains there anyway.”
By the morrow, you’re back lying down onto the soft gel pad of the link unit and the smell of sweet, crushed moss of the forest rushed into your lungs. You opened your eyes to the sight of the crystal-like long tendrils of the Tree of Souls gently swaying above you. You felt insanely warm, feeling the heavy arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling your back flush against a broad, smooth chest that rumbled with every slow, deep breath.
Neteyam was still asleep, his nose buried deep in the crook of your neck. His tail was loosely coiled around your thigh, a subconscious anchor that held you tight even in his dreams. You shifted slightly, a breathless sigh escaping your lips as the movement instantly woke him.
Neteyam’s ears twitched, rising slowly as his golden eyes blinked open, dark and heavy with sleep. The moment he realized you were awake, a soft, incredibly tender smile broke across his beautiful features. He didn't say a word at first; he just tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you so close that there wasn't a single inch of air between your bodies. He dipped his head, pressing a warm kiss directly against your jawline.
“Morning,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated straight through your skin. Through the bond, you could feel the huge ball of warmth in his chest as he hugged you closer, but he also felt the sharp prick of your anxiety. He pushed himself up on his elbow to look at you. “What’s wrong?”
You turned around in his arms so you could look at him. You reached up, your long finger gently tracing the strong line of his jaw. “The— the soldiers. They came to the shack... They are uspicious over the time I'm spending in this body.”
His eyes darkened instantly, the sleepy softness vanishing, replaced by a fierce, cold steel. He sat up, his back muscles flexing. “Did they hurt you?”
“No, no,” you quickly reassured him, pulling him back down by his neck until his forehead rested against yours. “Dr. Danel and Marco stopped them. But Dr. Danel is right... we can't stay there anymore. If we stay, they'll find out I'm with you. They'll use me to get to you.”
His hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “I will not let them touch you. They can’t just do that, they can’t threaten you like that anytime they want. We will relocate your outpost near here.”
“That's the problem,” you sighed, your tail twitching nervously against the grass. “If we relocate, we can't use a human helicopter. The military will track the flight path.”
His head tilted, an amused smirk on his lips. “A Samson is not the only thing that can lift a metal box, yawne.”
You blinked, your own head tilting in question.
“Toruk,” Neteyam said simply. “We must talk to Norm.”
So almost an hour of walk later, you were back at the human facilities with Neteyam standing behind you as you talk to Norm.
“The military just raided our outpost last night. They saw my log-in hours and apparently, it doesn’t look like the log-in hours of someone locked up in a dungeon,” you told him. “Dr. Danel wants to pull the plug and relocate us... here. But we have no way to transport the link shacks without the RDA tracking the Samson’s flight path..“
Norm’s expression shifted from tired to completely alert in a split second. “I knew Ardmore was going to tighten the leash. If they catch you—”
“They won’t,” Neteyam cut in. “We have a way to move their shacks.”
“But, Norm, I need to know if you have space for two more scientists... Danel and Marco are coming with me.”
“The demon we had the day Y/N came in was dead. He did not survive his wound. But the soldiers will use his ghost to hunt my mate. We must bring her people into the safety of our lands."
Your brows furrowed when Norm’s jaw dropped, his eyes darting between you and Neteyam. “Did... did he just say mate?” Norm sputtered. “Y/N... you are mated with Neteyam?”
Neteyam’s hand snaked around your waist. “Yes. She is my mate,” he confirmed.
Norm let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Wow. Okay. Holy shit, Jake is going to have a stroke... wait, no, Jake actually predicted this, didn't he? Alright, all the more reason you need to be relocated immediately and you can be relocated here. I’ll talk to Jake.”
You let out a massive sigh of relief, your shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry for all the trouble, Norm...”
“There is no trouble to forgive, kid,” Norm said, his expression softening into something genuinely protective. “You’ve been part of this family since you got those neural emulation codes working. Now that the tech is almost replicated, we’ve tested it for defensive patrols and it’s brilliant. You are as much a part of this resistance as any of us. And I bet you got some sweet new tech at that outpost?”
You grinned, your tail swishing with a sudden spark of pride. “Oh, we do, Norm. A whole shack of it. State-of-the-art RDA research tech we ‘forgot’ to catalog during the evacuation.”
“Perfect,” Norm grinned back. “Get your people ready. I'm going to find Jake.”
The longhouse of the Omatikaya council was an intimidating place.
When you and Neteyam entered, the atmosphere was already thick with tension. Jake Sully stood at the center, while Neytiri stood just behind him, her arms crossed over her chest. The clan elders, including Maneya's father, were gathered in a semi-circle, their faces hard and unyielding.
Norm had already briefed Jake, and the Olo’eyktan didn't waste any time.
“Y/N’s people are coming here,“ Jake announced, his eyes sweeping across the elders. “She provided us with critical intelligence, and their new technology will help us protect our borders even further. We are going to move their shacks near the human facilities.”
Instantly, an older, scarred warrior named Elder Karin stood up, his tail lashing with anger. “Toruk Makto... you allow too much sky people presence in this clan! First your dreamwalker friends, then this one who wanders our camp like a pet. Now you wish to bring more of their metal boxes into our grounds? It will put our people in jeopardy should these sky people decide to betray us to their soldiers!”
You took a step forward, the urge to defend your people fiercer than your fear. “We won’t do that, Elder Karin. We resent the military—”
“And who allowed you to speak here, dreamwalker?” a harsh voice boomed from the side of the circle. It was Maneya’s father, a warrior whose chest was covered in scars. He glared down at you as if you were an insect. “You have no voice here.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Neteyam stepped in front of you, his entire posture shifted, his broad shoulders blocking you from the warrior's view with his towering height.
“She is allowed to speak,” Neteyam said, his voice dropping into a calm, gravelly register. He looked directly at Maneya’s father, his eyes flashing. “Y/N is my mate.”
Several elders gasped, their ears twitching violently in shock. Maneya's father stiffened, his hands clenching into fists as a low, furious hiss started in his throat. You turned your head slightly, your eyes widening in sheer panic as you stared up at Neteyam. You hadn't expected him to drop the bomb right now, in front of the entire governing body of the clan.
“I will vouch for her and her people,” Neteyam continued, his voice ringing through the cavernous space with absolute authority. “If she or they happen to betray the clan... you’ll have my head.”
“Neteyam!” both you and Neytiri shouted at the exact same time.
Your hand shot out, pressing flat against his warm chest, your fingers trembling. “Neteyam, stop, don't say that—”
He kept his eyes locked on the elders, though, his chest expanding under your palm as he took a deep breath. “I’m going to put it out there, and I mean it,” he said, his voice softening just enough for them to hear the absolute, unyielding devotion behind it. “I am not an idiot who made my choice based on petty reasons. I know who I mated with, and I will stand by my decision. Even if it costs me my life.”
Your shoulder slumped as you let out a shuddering breath. You hated the fact that your presence, your identity as a dreamwalker, was bringing this much turmoil to the man you loved. You felt like an anchor dragging him down into the mud of clan politics.
But before you could spiral into your own head, a hand covered yours where it rested on Neteyam’s chest.
You looked up, startled and saw Neytiri’s eyes on you. She squeezed your hand against her son's chest, making your heart leap into your throat. She looked back up at the council, her spine straightening as she stood by her son.
Jake Sully looked at the council. “My son made his choice.”
Jake’s decision and order were rock solid, and a few hours later, you were already riding behind Neteyam on his ikran, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso. But as you broke through the cloud cover, a massive, towering shadow loomed over the entire valley.
You looked up and saw the massive, red-and-orange beast flying through the mist, its wingspan wide enough to shadow an entire valley. Perched atop it was Jake Sully. Toruk had lifted heavy equipment before, back when the clan evacuated to High Camp years ago, and Jake knew exactly how to rig the cargo straps to the container's reinforced corner castings.
Neteyam landed his ikran smoothly on the cliff edge outside your shack. The moment his feet touched the ground, the door to the outpost opened, and Dr. Danel and Marco stepped out, both wearing their exopacks. Dr Danel stopped dead in his tracks, his lips parting slightly as he looked up at the massive form of Toruk settling onto the ridge above them. “My God... I read the reports, but seeing that thing in person... it's terrifying,” he whispered, completely starstruck.
Marco, meanwhile, was looking at you. He walked up to you, a massive grin on his face. “Oh, thank God, your avatar’s really safe," he said, reaching out to give you a huge hug. “You talk to us every day from the box, but seeing the blue version of you here is great!”
Before he could reach you, though, a large hand gently but firmly pulled you back by your elbow by just half an inch. You looked at Neteyam and saw his ears tilted slightly back, his eyes tracking Marco with a quiet, possessive intensity.
You burst out laughing, holding Neteyam’s hand. “He’s one of the scientists I’m working with. He’s like Norm,” you told him, giving him a reassuring smile.
Neteyam’s ears came back up, though his hand is now firmly anchored to your waist. He nodded once to Marco. “I am Neteyam.”
Marco looked up at the nine-foot-tall warrior, his eyes tracking from Neteyam’s broad chest down to where his hand was squeezing your waist. “N-Nice to meet you, man. I’m Marco.”
“We need to move quickly,” Jake called. Dr. Danel was already talking to him and the warriors who were in company.
They all worked together to tie the heavy cables around the container's main chassis, while you stepped inside the shack log out of your avatar, laying down on your designated bed and closing your eyes as Marco initiated the remote sleep sequence. Within minutes, the world faded to black.
A sharp hiss echoed in the shack as it depressures and you opened your eyes to Marco pulling the neural cap off your smaller head. You moved your fingers and toes, pulling yourself up. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of a dark monitor screen. Your hair was a mess and your skin looked slightly pale from the lack of sunlight.
“Marco,” you muttered, fixing your top. “Do I look okay? Or do I look like a swamp monster that's been living in a basement for three weeks?”
Marco rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might clip into the back of his skull. “I don't think that man out there is going to care about your split ends, Y/N. The guy is completely head over heels for you.”
“Yeah, he's head over heels for the avatar,” you sighed, finger-combing your hair before wearing your own exopack. “He hasn't seen this version. The human who needs a plastic bubble just to breathe his air.”
“Oh, please. If he survived your personality in the blue body, he can handle your hair in this one,” Marco scoffed, punching the final release valve on the container's seals. “Let's go. They're waiting.”
The heavy metal door hissed open, and you stepped, the wind whipping around your hair as you clutched the straps of your exopack. Dr. Danel and Marco were already walking toward the two Omatikaya warriors who had volunteered to carry them on their ikrans. Neteyam, however, was standing right near the edge, finishing a quiet conversation with his father.
But the moment the door shut behind you, his eyes were on you. You stopped walking for a moment, feeling small standing there in your human clothes and the clear plastic mask covering your face. You raised your hand and gave him a little wave as you grinned mischievously.
Neteyam didn't move for a long moment, just standing there, his eyes wide, his gaze trained entirely on your face even as you walked up to him. He looked like he had just been dropped into a trance, peering down through the dark fringe of his long lashes, his eyes scanning every single detail of your features.
You cleared your throat. “Look at that height difference. It's ridiculous. Are you going to need a magnifying glass just to talk to me now, Commander?”
Jake Sully let out a loud laugh as he adjusted Toruk's harness. “That we can agree on. The height difference is a killer. Thankfully, my time only lasted like three seconds.”
Dr. Danel called out your name, waving you over to where the other warriors were preparing for takeoff. He and Jake walked toward the edge to supervise the final cable tension, leaving you and Neteyam alone on the platform.
“Why are you so silent?” you whispered, looking up at him. “Is it weird?”
Neteyam blinked, as if finally snapping out of whatever spell he was under. He shook his head, his ears tilting forward. “It is not weird,” he whispered, his deep voice carrying a soft, breathy reverence that made your stomach do a violent flip. “It is just... y-you are so beautiful, Y/N. In this body, too.”
A massive smirk broke through your face. “Will it be too cocky of me to say I already know that?” you whispered back.
Neteyam’s eyes narrowed playfully, a familiar, beautiful warmth returning to his expression. “Since when did you ever care about not being cocky, my love?”
You giggled, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his hand. He pulled you gently toward where his ikran was waiting, the large mountain banshee tracking your small movement with its sharp, intelligent eyes.
“Wow... everything out here is just so incredibly big,” you muttered, looking up at the towering wings of the banshee, then up at Toruk hovering above. Then, your head snapped back to Neteyam. “didn't specifically mean you, by the way! But... I mean, you're included in that observation.”
Neteyam let out a low, gravelly chuckle, and before you could even register what he was doing, his massive hands spanned your waist. With a single, effortless lift, he plopped you right on top of the ikran’s leather saddle.
“Oh, no! Neteyam, wait!” you shrieked, your hands scrambling for purchase on the smooth leather. “What if he decides to fly off with just me?!”
“I am right here,” he murmured, mounting behind you as he made the bond. He leaned forward, his massive chest pressing flush against your back, completely enveloping your smaller body in his warmth.
Above you, Toruk shook the rocks beneath the ridge with a massive sweep of its wings, surging upward into the fog, effortlessly lifting the metal shack into the air like it was a children's toy.
Neteyam’s ikran leaped off the ridge, plunging straight into the open sky. Your hands clamped onto Neteyam's thick, muscular forearm as it wrapped around you like a seatbelt.
“Is it tight enough?” he whispered, his deep, gravelly voice buzzing directly against your ear.
You felt a sudden, hot shiver run straight down your spine. Your mind instantly went somewhere incredibly inappropriate, remembering the way that exact same voice had sounded against your skin under the Tree of Souls the night before. You internally scolded yourself, but it didn't change the fact that your heart was pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with gravity.
“Y-yes...” you muttered, leaning back into his massive chest.
He pulled your significantly smaller body completely against his torso, shielding you from the crosswinds. The flight into the territories of the Omatikaya was fortunately uneventful, with Toruk delivering the link shacks safely into the deep part of the forest, right adjacent to the human facilities.
The moment you arrived, Norm and a handful of other scientists were waiting on the reinforced catwalks. Dr. Danel immediately stepped off his warrior's ikran to greet Norm. The two of them had worked in parallel branches of the RDA research sector years and years ago, and within five minutes, they were already animatedly talking about what could be done to hasten the project you were currently working on with them.
While they were talking, you walked toward the entrance of the newly placed container shack to prepare for your log-in. Neteyam followed you, his large hand never letting go of yours as you guided him through the narrow, heavy steel door of the shack.
“This is where I live whenever I'm back in my human body. It's not exactly Hometree, but it has good air conditioning,” you grinned, gesturing around the cramped, highly advanced laboratory space.
You showed him the primary link unit, pointing to the soft gel mattress where your human body spent hours every day. You reached up, unbuckling your human exopack and handing him a recon breather mask just in case he needed to breathe his own air. He held the it with immense curiosity, his large fingers turning it over like a puzzle, telling you he really wasn’t one to spend a lot of time in the human facilities.
Neteyam walked around the small lab, his long tail sweeping carefully behind him to avoid knocking over any glass beakers or computer monitors. He was fascinated by everything, his golden eyes wide as you excitedly rambled on about your job.
“Alright, let me show you how I link back to my avatar,” you grinned, taking a step toward the link bed.
But before your foot could even touch the frame, Neteyam’s hand caught your elbow. With a gentle, effortless tug, he pulled you back toward him. He leaned against the heavy metal workbench, his massive form still towering over you even while semi-reclined.
“Don't link back yet,” he whispered, his voice dropping into that quiet, possessive register that always made your knees weak. He looked down at your small human hands, his long blue fingers gently weaving through yours. “Besides... isn't this the time allotted for your human body? The time you must rest?”
You bit your lip, looking up at him. “Yeah... it is. I just thought... well, I thought it would be better if I logged back in so I could be almost as tall as you again.” you rolled your eyes.
Neteyam let out a soft, low chuckle. His large hands moved from your fingers to your waist, his grip warm as he pulled you directly between his long legs. You stood there, completely bracketed by him.
“It does not matter,” he said softly. “I really like this version, too. You are... very cute.”
“Cute?!” you gasped, your eyes as you let out a defensive chuckle. “Excuse me, Commander, I am not a puppy! You just don't know, but for humans? I'm actually considered really hot. Like, premium tier.”
Neteyam’s playful smile faltered for a fraction of a second, his eyes darkening. “I can see that...” he mumbled, his voice turning hoarse as his hand on your waist caressed your curve against the fabric of your tank top. “Did... did any man back at Bridgehead tried?”
“No,” you whispered, looking directly into his intense gaze. “I'm not really fond of soldiers.”
His brow raised, his head tilting slightly in question. “No?”
You pushed your lips forward into a little pout, your small human hands pressing flat against his hard, heavily muscled abdomen. “No. But... I find I have a massive thing for nine-foot-tall blue warriors who can hit a bull's eye with a longbow even with his eyes closed. Which is so much cooler than being a trigger-happy moron with a rifle.”
Neteyam’s chest rumbled with a deep purr. You leaned your head all the way back, reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss him, and he lowered his massive head instantly, his lips crashing down onto yours with an explosive, hungry heat. He pulled you flush against his frame, his large hands anchoring you to his hips as the kiss deepened, your small human mouth completely consumed by his.
Suddenly, the heavy pneumatic door of the shack hissed open with a loud rush of air.
“Hey, Y/N, we need to calibrate the secondary—” Norm’s voice cut off instantly.
He and Dr. Danel stood in the doorway, both freezing mid-step. You immediately pushed against Neteyam’s chest, breaking the kiss and stumbling back a step, immediately starting to talk about the project. Neteyam just stood there, entirely unbothered, a smug, deeply satisfied smirk gracing his lips as he looked over your head at the two older scientists.
They had definitely seen everything they needed to see.
For the next two weeks, the human facilities became a furnace of pure, collaborative energy.
You lived with Neteyam in the hut you two share as a mated couple, slowly integrating as a member of the clan now. You sleep wrapped in his arms every single night on the soft woven mats, but during the days, you, Dr. Danel, and Marco worked tirelessly between the link shacks and the main human labs.
You stretched, waking up slowly to the sight of golden light filtering through the kelku, dappling inside the room. Neteyam's chest vibrated against your shoulders. He was holding you tightly, his arms locked around your waist, his long tail resting over your hip.
You craned your neck, pressing a soft kiss to his chin as your own tail gently curled around his thigh. “Wake up, lover boy...”
Neteyam buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he pressed a kiss against your soft skin. He pulled himself up, pulling you in for a deep kiss. “I’ll walk you to the shack.”
You pushed your lips forward, “You have morning patrol,” you reminded him.
“Which wouldn’t be for an hour,” he reasoned, grabbing your loincloth near you and pulling the soft covers off your naked body. “Do we have time?” he asked, dipping his head low to start kissing your jaw.
“No, Commander. No, we don’t,” you said sweetly, kissing his cheek as you grabbed your top.
He groaned, pressing his nose against your neck as he hugged you. “If they want me out there, they’ll need to perfume the air with your smell because I’ve been needing a day with just this,” he drawled, kissing your neck.
“Other things can be done, you know...” you whispered, pushing yourself up on your elbow and gathering your hair.
He lifted his head up, his hot gaze dropping down to you licking your lips.
An hour later, you were standing in the lab with Dr. Danel, Norm, Max, and the other scientists. Jake Sully came the moment Norm called him to see the finish product of what you all have worked on in the past months. Jake held up a small, heavily modified metallic strip between his fingers.
“Alright. I understand that the emulator we brought Y/N months ago will help us hide our tracks during raids... This will do that?”
Norm nodded, “Yes. We managed to reverse-engineer the emulation codes. The raiding party could wear these tags, and when they hit the weapon’s transports, the sensor perimeters would send out a false-positive loop back to Bridgehead. To their automated automated tracking systems, we will be friends, not foes.”
Jake nodded. “This is a game changer, Norm, Y/N, Max,” he said. “We’ll try this in the next raid.”
“Jake, there isn’t a hundred-percent guarantee that it would work but we have tried running tests,” Max told him.
Jake shrugs, “It could make a difference or it could not. Besides, we’ve been doing the raids without this for so long, but if it works, it will be great.”
The rest of that day and the following one were spent in a whirlwind of intense preparation. The war party was mobilizing for a massive raid on an RDA weapons railcar, while Neteyam stayed back at the lab with you that evening to finalize the deployment coordinates. With Dr. Danel and Marco asleep in their own modules, you two spent the night tangled together in your avatar’s cot.
Your avatar was back at Hometree though. It’s you in your human form that he’s holding with an incredible, fragile tenderness, his massive hands mapping every curve of your smaller body as you made out in the quiet dark.
You pressed your palm against his solid chest, moaning as he deepened the kiss, sucking at your tongue. You caressed the braids on his nape, caressing his soft skin as you moved your hips against him. You two eventually fell asleep, you with your head nestled perfectly into the crook of his collarbone and him with his arms wrapped around you tightly.
The next morning, you woke up with your hair completely messy and wild. Neteyam sat up beside you, looking down at your birds-nest hair and bursting into a sudden, booming laugh.
“Oh, shut up!” you huffed, throwing a pillow at his chest. “I did ask you for a haircare secret and you didn't give me anything! You just naturally look like a supermodel while I look like a troll!”
Neteyam laughed even harder, his massive arms reaching out to scoop your body back against his chest. He buried his large face into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing warm, heavy kisses against your skin as he held you tight. “You are beautiful,” he mumbled happily. “Always.”
You prepared for the day, sitting on the soft gel of your link unit and leaning up to kiss him. “See you at Hometree, Commander,” you murmured.
“See you there, my love,” he replied.
You lay back down onto the link unit, pulling the neural cap over your head and sliding into the dark.
When your avatar opened its eyes back at Hometree, your ears picked up on the buzzing sound from the lower branches humming with intense energy. Before you could even stretched, someone suddenly bounded into the kelku, and when you looked up, you saw Tuk with her tail swishing with frantic excitement as she grabbed your large hand.
“Y/N! Come on! Come on! The war party is assembling downstairs! You have to be there!”
“Why should I be there, Tuk?” you mused with a grin, letting the young girl drag you down the winding root pathways of the tree. “I'm just the tech support.”
“Because!” she beamed, pulling you right into the center of the clearing.
The moment you stepped into the communal clearing, you saw the warriors sharpening their arrows, checking the straps on their bowstrings, and preparing their war paint. Your eyes caught Neteyam who just entered the clearing, too, his knife sheath secured in his chest and his longbow strapped across his back. The second he saw you, he walked straight through the crowd, ignoring the lingering stares of the elders. He caught your waist, pulling you tightly against him, and dipped his head to kiss you hard and deep.
Tuk giggled loudly, running up beside you two with two small clay bowls filled with thick yellow and turquoise paint. “Here! His war paint!”
You chuckled, taking the bowls from her. Neteyam pulled you into a quiet, shaded corner of the clearing, sitting down on a low ledge. You dipped your fingers into the cool, turquoise paste, carefully drawing the sharp, traditional lines across his high cheekbones and down the powerful expanse of his chest.
Neteyam watched you the entire time, his golden eyes filled with an intense, quiet devotion. As you finished the last line on his shoulder, he reached down, pressing your hand into the bright yellow paint. His eyes locked onto yours as he pressed your painted palm directly over the center of his chest, leaving a perfect yellow print of your five-fingered hand on his skin.
“My heart is your,“ he whispered.
Your chuckled, you ought to tease him for being too cheesy, but your throat tightened with emotion. You leaned up and kissed him hard. “Come home to me safe, Neteyam.”
Turns out, the raid was an absolute success.
The RFID tags worked perfectly, completely blinding the RDA’s automated sensors as the war party swooped down on the railcar, securing several crates of advanced weaponry and medical supplies without a single casualty.
That evening, the celebration at Hometree was wild and loud. Fire blazed in the center of the clearing and the sound of drums and laughter echoed through the canopy. Even Dr. Danel and Marco had come up from the labs, wearing their exopacks and socializing with the other scientists and warriors.
You danced and drank with Kiri and your friends, laughing until your sides ached, completely lost in the joy of the victory.
Suddenly, a large hand slid around your waist from behind, stealing you away from the group, his arm pulling you into a slow, rhythmic sway near the edge of the firelight. You looked up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you moved together to the beat of the drums.
“Aren't you going to police my schedule, Commander?” you whispered teasingly, your eyes sparkling. xAren't you going to talk about how I've been in the avatar for too many hours and need to log out now?”
“No,” Neteyam mumbled, his head dipping down until his lips brushed against your ear. “Because we are still having fun... and I want to hold my wife.”
You smirked, a wicked, playful thought lighting up your brain. You leaned up, your tongue darting out to lick at your lips. “Except... we could also have a different kind of fun back at the shack, Neteyam... with my human body.”
Neteyam’s head reared back instantly. His golden eyes widened, a sudden, intense heat flashing across his face as his ears twitched violently. “What... what are you talking about?” he mumbled, his voice dropping an entire octave.
You narrowed your eyes playfully, raising a brow. “What, you've never thought about it? Doing it while I'm in my real skin...”
“I... I did, but—... but— but I—" Neteyam stammered, his usual cool, commanding demeanor completely fracturing. He swallowed hard, his jaw tight. “No. Y/N... you are so small. I—I would not want to hurt you.”
You pulled him closer, leaning up to let your lips brush teasingly against his jaw. “Oh, we are so going to the shack right now.”
You squeezed his shoulder, brushing your fingers down his arm before intertwining your fingers with his. You pulled him toward the exit, chuckling softly when he let himself be dragged without a single shred of resistance.
You two walked down the winding wooden ramp that led down to the forest floor, and you were about to start the trek toward the human facilities on foot when Neteyam gently steered you in a different direction toward the direhorse stables.
“Wow, someone's excited,” you teased, your tail swinging in wicked loops as he swiftly freed his direhorse out from the tether.
Before you could even finish the sentence, his large hands clamped onto your waist and plopped you effortlessly onto the back of the beast, making you shriek in surprise. He then mounted the direhorse behind you, his powerful chest locking you into place as he made the bond. With a sharp command, the direhorse surged into the jungle, sprinting toward the human facilities.
When you arrived, you went into the shack and he tailed behind you. He helped you initiate the log out by depressurizing the link unit. The moment your human eyes opened, you pushed the neural cap off and sat up. Neteyam was already standing right beside the link unit, his massive, nine-foot-tall frame making the small room feel even smaller.
You grinned up at him, sliding off the gel mattress. “Oh, I can see those gears turning in your head...” you teased, stepping closer to him. Your smaller hand reached out, sliding down the smooth skin of his muscled abdomen, tracing the line down toward the lower part of his waist.
Neteyam’s hand shot out like lightning though, his large hand gently but firmly catching your wrist, stopping it. “No...” he rough-whispered, his chest heaving. “It won’t be involved, Y/N,” he widened his eyes. “It’s too dangerous for you.”
You rolled your eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Boo! Coward,” you teased, leaning your head all the way up.
Neteyam immediately leaned down even as he was still chuckling, his lips crashing onto yours with a fierce, burning intensity. He wrapped his massive arms around your back and hauled your small body clean off the unit. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs tightly around his massive, muscular torso, your fingers tangling in his thick braids as the kiss deepened, turning hard and desperately hungry.
He started walking blindly toward your curtained nook in the back of the shack, his eyes closed as he consumed your mouth. A loud noise echoed as Neteyam’s head hit the corner of a storage cupboard. He winced, letting out a sharp grunt as his ears pinned back in irritation as he lowered you down onto your mattress.
You broke the kiss, your brows furrowed in worry as you caressed his head. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking at the cupboard. “Be careful, baby...” you leaned up to press soft kisses on the side of his lips. “Hm?”
His groan vibrated in his chest as he hovered over you, his massive frame blocking out the light for you as his head dipped back down. He kissed your jawline, his lips trailing down to nip playfully at the soft skin of your neck, making you squeal and squirm beneath him.
You two kissed and kissed, the heat between you rising rapidly. You reached down, catching his massive hand from where it rested on your waist, and guided it upward, placing his large palm directly over your breast.
“When are you going to touch them?” you mumbled against his lips.
Neteyam let out a deep, guttural groan. His massive hand, which easily covered your entire breast, cupped the ample curve through your tank top. He squeezed it with a careful pressure and a moan escaped your throat, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you kissed him harder.
Suddenly, he pulled his head back, his eyes wide with genuine awe as he kneaded your chest. “It... it is so soft,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse. He brought his other hand up, carefully cupping and kneading both of your breasts through the fabric. “Your skin...is like silk.”
You smiled, your hips arching slightly as you reached down, pulling the hem of your tank top up and sliding it over your head, tossing it onto the floor. You heard Neteyam take in a ragged breath, his eyes locking onto your chest before he kissed the swell of it
“Come on!” you whisper-shouted. “You didn't even appreciate my lace bra! I wore the fancy one!”
Neteyam blinked, his head tilting in complete confusion. “Your... what?”
You pushed his massive chest back gently, sitting up slightly and arched your back. A hungry, predatory look were on his eyes as his gaze caressed your body.
“This is the equivalent of a really banging top right now. It’s really sexy,” you mumbled.
A low, dark chuckle escaped his lips. You reached for the latch in the center of your chest, unclasping it and freeing your breasts completely. You watched him lick his lips wet, his ears pinning flat against his head. He lowered his massive head, his warm mouth enveloping one peak as his large fingers gently fondled and squeezed the other.
An intense, scorching rush of liquid heat gushed out between your thighs as he suckled and fondled on them, making you let out a breathless whimper, your hands cradling his head as he enjoyed you.
After what seemed like hours, he left your breasts with their pebbled tips swollen and red, his lips trailing down your abdomen. You reached down, your thumbs hooking on your sweatpants and underwear to roll it off your hips. Following your lead, he pulled it further down and you kicked it off your legs. Neteyam shifted, his massive hand coming down to grip your thigh, his calloused fingers firmly spreading your legs wide on the bed.
You saw him lick his lips as he looked down at your pussy, his hand reaching down to gently caress your velvety, slick folds with his thumb. His golden eyes peered up at you through his lashes, burning with an unadulterated, primal hunger. You bit your lip, nodding to him. Neteyam then leaned down, his mouth pressing directly against your pussy.
You took in a sharp breath, your fingers clutching the bedsheets as his tongue began to lick and kiss you with an incredible devotion he’s already showed you in your avatar body. He ate you out like you were his absolute favorite meal, his deep groans vibrating directly against your core as he licked and suckled at your soft nub. Slowly, carefully, he slid one finger inside you, testing your slick warmth.
“Neteyam...” you panted, your hips instinctively bucking against his mouth. “More...”
He added a second finger, his mouth and hands working together in a flawless perfect rhythm until your legs were shaking violently and your entire body seized in a shattering orgasm. You bucked against his hand, completely undone.
Once the waves settled, he hovered back over you, his chest heaving. Your hand shot out, reaching down between his legs to palm his hardened cock. He let out a loud groan, his knees buckling slightly against the frame of the bed.
“Take it out, baby...” you mumbled, your voice thick with desire. “I'll take care of it.”
You reached behind him, helping him untie the bindings of his loincloth. The moment he shed the fabric, his cock sprang free. An impossibly long and thick column of azure, engorged and already licking at the tip. You swallowed hard, pushing yourself up on your elbows. You leaned forward, placing the wide head of his shaft against your lips. You peered up at him through your lashes as you began to lick the sweet essence from the tip, your small hand working the incredible length of his shaft as far down as you could reach.
You tilted your head, moving your mouth to take more of him in, but you could barely get half of it past your lips before your mouth felt completely stuffed. Neteyam let out a loud moan, his hand coming up to grip your hair gently as he carefully moved his hips against your mouth, dragging his length in ths slick warmth of it before gently pulling it out.
His breath was ragged as he started pumping himself with his hand, his other hand firmly keeping your thighs spread wide on the mattress.
He grunted, his body trembling. You reached up, wrapping your small hand around his heavily muscled forearm.
“Put it inside me, Neteyam...” you whispered, your eyes locked onto his. “Please...”
Neteyam bit his lip, his expression fracturing with conflict. He looked terrified of breaking you, but the burning desire to be inside you was written across every inch of his face. You squeezed his forearm when he lowered his hips carefully between your legs.
“Hips up, beautiful...” he said in a low command, his large hand sliding under you to lift your hips off the bed.
You bit your lip as the massive, wide head of his shaft began to nudge against your sensitive, aching folds. You knew there was absolutely no mathematical way his entire length would fit inside you, but you didn't care. You whimpered as the head pushed past your opening, stretching you incredibly wide, while Neteyam let out a deep, guttural grunt as the intense warmth and tightness of your walls embraced him.
You looked down, watching in sheer pleasure as his thick blue cock spread your pussy lips so wide that a huge amount of your own wetness was coating him. His calloused thumb reached down to softly rub your clit as he gently eased himself. His other hand kneaded your soft breast before lowering his head to kiss you deeply.
He stopped pushing in just right, knowing your body's limit. Then, he began to move, dragging his cock in and out of you in a careful, agonizingly slow pace. You kept your back arched, offering your breasts to his mouth. He caught one peak between his lips, suckling hungrily as his hips thrust rhythmically against yours.
“You are... so tight...” he groaned against your skin, his bites turning hard and nipping at the flesh of your breast. “So fucking good, baby.”
“You're just... so big...” you whimpered, tears of sheer pleasure pricking your eyes as you felt every single ridge and vein of his cock molded perfectly against your soft walls.
The intense friction was too much for him to withstand in your tight core that within a few more deliberate thrusts, he let out a loud, primal grunt, his entire body shuddering violently as he spilled his heavy, warm release deep inside you. He carefully pulled out, gripping his throbbing shaft tight as he shivered, painting your pussy with the warmth of his release.
You lay there panting, your fingers caressing his lower abdomen before you u reached down to scoop a dollop of the warm, thick fluid onto your fingers and bring it up to your mouth, licking it off with a playful smirk.
Neteyam let out a low purr, his large hand reaching out to give your breast a squeeze as he smiled down at you. He lowered his head, catching your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he groaned happily.
Suddenly, your eyes snapped wide open. You gasped, aggressively pushing his massive chest away.
Neteyam blinked, looking entirely confused as he sat back on his heels. “What? What is it, my love?”
You scrambled across the bed, your hands frantically grabbing the calendar pad off your nightstand. You stared at the glowing green matrix on the screen, your face turning completely pale.
“What?” Neteyam asked again, his ears tilting forward in concern.
“I'm fertile,” you mumbled in English, blinking up at him with wide, bewildered eyes.
Neteyam’s brow furrowed, his head tilting in confusion. “Fertile? As in good soil?”
“No, me. I’n fertile. I could get pregnant," you said, your face a mix of pure shock and panic. “Like... baby pregnant.”
Neteyam’s head reared back instantly, his ears pinning completely flat against his head. A look of genuine alarm flashed across his face, and he immediately pressed his massive hand flat against your soft belly, as if protecting it. “Baby... no. You won't survive it.”
“I know, oh my goodness,” you said, biting your lip, but as the panic subsided, a sudden realization began to click in your brain. You let out a small, breathless chuckle, patting his massive hand. “But wait... don't worry. It's actually highly impossible for it to happen.”
Neteyam blinked, his ears perking up slightly. “Impossible? Why?”
“Because science,” you nodded at him. “My human immune system will immediately recognize your biological material as a foreign, alien pathogen. The moment it enters my system, my white blood cells are going to launch an assault and attack it. Your little soldiers don't stand a chance against my white blood cells.”
Neteyam stared at you for a long three seconds, processing the complex jargon, before a look of profound, worshipful adoration washed over his beautiful features. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle, leaning down to press a deep, tender kiss right where your forehead met your messy hair.
“You are such a genius, baby,” he murmured against your skin.
You pursed your lips, grinning up at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Small thing, Commander. That's exactly what brought me to this world in the first place.”
Neteyam smiled, his large arms wrapping completely around your small frame, pulling you close against his chest as the rain began to patter softly against the reinforced steel roof of the shack. “I love your brain,” he whispered adoringly, his golden eyes shining in the dark. “I love you. I love you very much, Y/N.”
You grinned, burying your face into his warm chest, your heart completely at peace. “I love you too, Neteyam.”
