#evvrloree

[evvrloree]

quite literally

[evvrloree]

one shot

neteyam sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: the omatikaya have a one in a while tradition that encourages couples of all kinds to participate in a special game of "hide and seek." after a bad argument with your mate neteyam, kiri suggests that both of you two join in. rekindle that spark. however, that's sweet innocence is quickly replaces by something hungry.

tags: NSFW , 18+ , MDNI , smut , primal / prey , hunting , feral , overstim kinda

a/n: gawd I really gotta finish all my series broooo. this isn't the best but I had to spit something out before the end of this week!!! would u believe me if I said I get 90% of my ideas from songs?

theme: runrunrun

Three days. Three days since you had refused to speak to Neteyam. The silence between you had grown heavy. The argument had started small. Something so small you didn't even care to remember. But it had spiraled fast. Words like reckless and controlling had entered the fight. You'd stormed off to your family's marui, refusing his attempts to follow. He hadn't pushed any further after the second night. That hurt worse.

Now the annual Rekindle Ceremony had made it's return once again. Every mated pair in the Omatikaya participated if they chose to. Hide and seek through the glowing forest at dusk, meant to be playful, intimate, a reminder of the chase that first bound you. That was the tradition.

Neteyam's sister, Kiri, had found you at the gathering near the fire, stopping you in your tracks. "You two need this," she'd said. "The ritual isn't just games. It's… remembering why you chose each other. Even when you're angry." She raised her brows with her ears at the last statement.

You'd wanted to argue and tell her you weren't angry but the words stuck. Kiri's certainty had a way of slipping past defenses. So you'd nodded and reluctantly agreed. "Fine."

Now dusk painted the canopy. Torches flickered along the ceremonial clearing. Mated women stood in a loose circle, tails swaying with nervous excitement, while their mates waited at the far end. Hunters trying to look casual.

Neteyam was the only one not pretending. You were unsure who convinced him to be here. Probably also Kiri.

He stood apart, arms crossed over his chest. No smile. No teasing tilt of his head. Just that steady, burning yellow stare that said he'd already mapped every escape route you might take.

One of the elders in charge of the ceremony stepped forward, arms raised, voice carrying over the excited whispers.

"Tonight Eywa reminds us: love is not gentle possession. It is pursuit. It is surrender. It is the chase that never truly ends." She lowered her hands towards the bundle of women. "Women-run. Let your mates remember what it means to earn you."

A ripple of laughter and delighted squeals as the other women scattered. Light steps, playful shrieks, darting between ferns and curtain vines. Most of them glanced back once or twice, giggling, teasing their pursuers with a sway of hips.

You didn't. You bolted. Full sprint. No glance back. Vines whipped your arms, moss burst under your feet. You didn't care about looking cute. This wasn't a game anymore. While others skipped and pranced around in hopes of being caught early, you tried to get as far as possible from the starting point. Maybe Neteyam would never find you and the forest would eat you.

One by one, you lost sight of the women in front of you and at your sides. They scattered easily, scurrying through the bushes and tangled roots. To give it an extra measure, you didn't stop till your calves burned. You stopped at a tree that had extra long vines to drape your figure. Catching your breath, you tried to listen carefully for the signal your time was up. The elders explained you had very little time to "hide" before the men would be allowed to start seeking shortly after.

Then you heard the signal: a single blow of a tusk horn. The hunt was on. You pressed deeper into the shadow of the hanging vines, heart hammering so loud you were sure it would give you away. You forced your breathing shallow, tail tucked tight, ears straining. It would be a while before Neteyam would find you. If he even could. Surely.

After a few minutes, you heard rustling which made you whip your head and ears in the exact direction. Laughter and the sound of crashing to the ground. People were already being caught. You started to wander around, slowly, cautious to not make much sound.

Another minute went by and you heard calling taunts of a man, possibly his mate's name. Then the forest went quiet again. Too quiet.

Your ears swiveled, searching. That's when you felt a sudden wave of impending doom fall over you. Like overwhelming dread that you couldn't quite pinpoint the cause of. Your breathing started to become rapid again, and you whipped your head in all directions. You were debating flight or fight. You could feel eyes on you. Not just watched. Hunted.

The dread coiled tighter in your gut. Primal instinct screaming that the predator had already closed in. Then the silence broke.

The rushed sound of someone running past as quietly as possible.

You spun around. Nothing. Just vines swaying gently where nothing should have moved. Then your feet started moving before you could think. So you ran. No thought. Just instinct. Legs pumping, vines slapping your thighs. You didn't care about direction anymore, only distance.

Then you heard the sound of footsteps just on your heel. You didn't dare look back. Because you already knew.

Your lungs burned. Thighs screamed. Still you pushed despite giving it all earlier. You lept across logs, ducked under tall roots. Before you realized it, the forest path you were running began to narrow and get tighter. You burst into a small, sheltered hollow: a natural cradle of roots and stone. No exit.

Just perfect.

You spun. Chest heaving. Ears pinned. Tail lashing. You waited for him to appear, like a shadow in the night.

Neteyam stepped into the hollow slowly. His chest rose and fell steadily, odd considering he was chasing you. His tail flicked, ears forward, eyes dark and predatory.

You backed up until your back met stone. No more running. Nowhere left.

"Got you," he said, voice low. Not playful. Not teasing. Contrast to the couples you heard earlier.

Your heart slammed against your ribs. "This was supposed to be a game."

He tilted his head, a slow, dangerous smile curling one side of his mouth. "You ran like it wasn't."

You sucked in your breath, caught in your own trap. Neteyam didn't move closer right away. He simply stood there, letting you take it all in. The sunlight that peeked itself through the cracks of the hollow traced the hard lines of his body.

"You think you can run from me?" His voice was quiet, almost conversationa. "After everything?"

Your tail lashed once, hard enough to brush the stone wall. "This isn't about us. This is just... the ritual." You jerked your chin in his direction.

He laughed. "Don't lie to me, yawne. Not tonight." He took one step. Then another. Slowly, like he had all the time in Pandora. "You didn't run like the others. You ran like someone that knows exactly what's coming."

Your ears flattened. Heat flooded your face, your chest. Anger, shame, something too close to want. "Maybe I just didn't want to be caught by you." You crossed your arms, turning your head away, but never tearing your eyes away from him.

Neteyam's eyes narrowed. He closed the last distance in one stride, caging you against the stone without touching you yet. His scent enveloped you. Sweat, forest, just him. The same scent that used to calm you now set every nerve alight.

"Too late for that," he murmured. One hand lifted, fingers brushing the underside of your jaw, tilting your face up. Possessive. "You ran. I chased. That's how it works." His thumb dragged across your lower lip. "So what's my next move?"

Your voice came out smaller than you wanted. "You tell me."

Neteyam's gaze dropped to your mouth, then lower. Eyeing the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way your thighs pressed together like that could hide how turned you already were.

"My next move," he repeated, voice dropping, "is reminding you who you belong to."

He didn’t give you time to answer. His mouth slammed over yours. No asking permission. Just the taste of fury and three days of pent-up everything. You shoved at his chest once, half-hearted, and he caught both your wrists in one massive hand, pinning them above your head.

The other hand slid down your side, fingers catching the tie of your loincloth and ripping it free in one sharp tug. Cool morning air kissed aching skin. You broke the kiss with a protest. "Neteyam-"

"Quiet." His head hung next to yours, breath hot against your cheek. "You don't get to use that pretty mouth to argue anymore. Not after you shut me out for three fucking days."

He shoved a thick thigh between yours, forcing your legs apart. The muscle pressed right up against your cunt, and you couldn't stop the broken whimper that escaped.

"Look at you," he growled, dragging the hard length of him along your slit through his own loincloth. "So wet you're dripping on my thigh already. And you still want to pretend this is just a game? Huh?"

Your hips jerked forward before you could stop them. Shame burned hot in your cheeks. "I hate you right now."

"Good." He spit the word against your throat, teeth scraping over it. "Hate me while I fuck the attitude out of you."

He spun you around quickly, your hands flying flat against the stone wall, so your ass backed up perfectly onto him. One hand had a hold on the base of your kuru. The other quickly tore his own lion cloth away.

You felt him, thick, heavy, warm. Just nudging at your welcoming entrance. "Say it," he ordered. "Tell me you want this."

You clenched your jaw. Refused.

He spanked you. "Say. It."

Your nails scraped stone as you let out a harsh groan. "I want it," you hissed in frustration at your resolve breaking.. "I want you."

He forced himself inside with one hard stroke. A cry tore out of you. Too full. Too deep. Perfect. He didn't give you time to adjust. Just pulled almost all the way out and rammed back in, setting a rhythm that jolted your whole body forward with every thrust.

"You think you can run from me?" he snarled into your ear. "Think you can hide this tight little cunt from the man who claimed it?"

You couldn't answer. Could only moan. Shamefully.

His hand slid around to your front, rough fingertips finding your clit and circling hard. "Answer." He growled.

"I-I can't—" Another thrust, meaner. "I can't hide from you."

"Louder." His fingers pinched your clit, enough to make your knees buckle. Only his grip on your kuru and the arm banded around your waist kept you upright. "Let the whole fucking forest hear who owns this pussy."

You sobbed once. You mentally cursed yourself then forced the words out between gasps. "I can't hide from you! You own it-you own me-fuck-Neteyam!"

He rewarded you with a slow roll of his hips that dragged the thick head of his cock over that spot inside you craved. "That's right," he growled against your ear. "Say it again."

"You own me." The admission tasted bitter and relief all at once. "I'm yours."

"Good girl," he rasped. "My good, dripping little slut." Your walls fluttered helplessly around him, greedy despite the sting, despite the anger still simmering under your skin.

His fingers never left your clit. Ruthless little circles. Forcing pleasure higher until your thighs shook.

"You ran so hard," he murmured, lips brushing the tip of your ear. "Made me hunt. Made me earn it." Another deep, grinding thrust that punched the air from your lungs. "Now you're going to take every fucking drop I give you." You tried to nod. Couldn't quite manage it with his grip locked on your kuru.

He sped up. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed obscenely in the small hollow.Somewhere far off other couples were probably still laughing, still playing. Not you. Not him. This had turned into something different. Hungrier. The kind of claiming that left marks no one else would ever see.

Neteyam yanked your kuru back sharply, arching your spine, forcing your chest off the stone wall so your breasts scraped rough bark instead. You yelped, from pleasure or frustration, you weren't quite sure.

He felt the warm feeling pool in his stomach. Feeling his closeness, he needed to hear you to reach the finish line. "Again," he demanded against your mouth. "Tell me."

"You-own-me-" Each word was a gasp between his thrusts. "Yours-fuck-yours-" The hand that held your kuru tight released to grip your throat. "Louder."

"I'm yours!" You sobbed out. "Neteyam-please-need to-need to come-" Your nails scraped lines into the stone. Heat coiled viciously low in your belly, tighter and tighter until you were shaking apart.

"Come," he snarled. An order. "Come on my cock like the needy little thing you are. Show me you still know who you belong to."

And so you did, locking up into an arch to focus on the feeling. And then it exploded into a beautiful wave of pleasure that left your cheeks flushed. "Ohhh fffuck!" You cried out, jaw slack.

Your walls were desperately clamping down on him, encouraging him to spill out what your womb craved. So much so his rhythm stuttered. He fucked you through the heat of it, chasing every last tremor until your legs gave out completely and only his arm around your waist and the grip on your hip kept you upright against the stone.

"That's it," he rasped. "That's my good fucking girl-milking me like you need it."

You could only make noises in response, still involuntarily clamping down. He was still fucking you through it, getting closer and closer to his own release.

"Fuck-" he moaned right into your ear. "Gonna come-" And so he spilled into you, painting your insides a creamy white. He thrusted inwards, deep and hard slow strokes to ensure you were filled. He stayed seated, chest heaving against your spine. For just a second, as you both were regaining your breath, thinking he was done, he grabbed your kuru again, yanking you upwards. "You think we're done?"

You let out a shaky laugh that turned into a whimper of defeat. "Neteyam-" you whined.

"You ran," he reminded you, "Three days of silence. Three days of acting like I don't get to touch what’s mine." He gave a small roll of his hips. You hissed at the sensitive sensation. "We're not fucking finished until I'm sure you remember." He finally eased out, slowly. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, thighs trembling.

Neteyam spun you around again, rough, your back met stone once more. He dropped to one knee in front of you, hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, and buried his face between your thighs.

A choked moan escaped from you. His tongue was merciless. Lapping up the mess he'd just made, sucking your clit into his mouth, then fucking back inside you, hungry, like he was satrved. Claiming you twice over. You threaded shaking fingers into his braids, trying to pull him closer, trying to push him away because it was too much.

He growled against your cunt, the vibration shooting right into your spine, doubling you down. Your high was building up again, faster, and more rushed, but still equally as pleasurable. It exploded through your body, and right into his mouth. You cried, hips bucking helplessly as you rode out your orgasm. He graciously drank down everything you gave him.

When he finally rose, lips glossy, he didn't give you time to recover. He lifted you like you weighed nothing, hands under your thighs, pinning you against the stone. He entered you slowly, gently. This time he fucked you slower. Deeper. So slow you felt everything until your eyes rolled back.

"Look at me," he ordered.

You tried. Could barely focus.

He caught your chin. Forced it. "Eyes on me when I fill you again."

You obeyed.

He watched your face the entire time he built you both back up. Watched every flutter of your lashes, every hitch in your breath, every time your lips parted on a plea. When the third climax started coiling low in your belly, he leaned in until your foreheads touched.

"Say it one more time," he rasped. "Who do you belong to?"

"You," you whispered, voice cracking. "Only you."

He kissed you then, tasting of both of you, and thrust hard once, twice, and spilled again. His growl resonated deep in his chest.

You were unsure how long you would be in this cave, but you weren't complaining.

taglist: @queefmasterr @naveaian @thel0v3hashira143 @ynniksslirg @yumyumyumsworld @akaakari @ivarasite @simpingoveredmundbrb @sleepygirl-inc @bunnyredgirl @zzma-rs @starmylife4ever @pinkdestinytaco @scenic236 @hiyik @haunted-haven @fizzywizzyglizzy @celestialsonglines @char-izard3 @pitypinkabyss @marinefreaakk @nicaur @artfulthoughtsblog @trashyandtiredsol

[evvrloree]

one shot

jake sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: in the next step of your bond with your husband comes children. after some failed attempts, he decides the only way to make it work is to be on you day and night.

tags: 18+ , MDNI , NSFW , smut , breeding , overstim kinda , not proof read

a/n: i wrote his during my chem lecture i lowk hope no one saw my laptop screen !

theme: freek'n you

Ever since your husband, Jake Sully, Toruk Makto sent every sky person back to their dying planet, your life couldn't be better. Yourself and every other na'vi were free from the fear they held every day and night from the RDA.

Peace fell over the people of the Omatikaya. No fear. You and Jake had claimed your place fully now, no more hiding, no more war. And with that peace came the next step to your better life.

You both wanted it. Children. Little ones with Jake's bravery. Your grace in their movements. Everyone seemed to know the determination you both had to make it happen. The clan elders smirked knowingly when you two disappeared for longer hunts.

Old aunties whispered to you with remedies. Drink this tea from crushed atokirina petals at dawn, lie with him under the Tree of Souls when the pollen is thick, eat the sweet fruit that readies the belly.

And Eywa knows just how many times he laid you down before Her.

The first time was gentle, with promises of a family. Jake worshiping every inch you, slow rolls of his hips, whispering promises into your skin as he filled you deep.

The second was hungrier, him pinning your wrists above your head, growling low in that voice, "Gonna put a baby in you, babygirl. Gonna make you swell for me."

But the days passed. No sign of any hope. Almost like the elders lied to you. So your husband had decided the only remedy that mattered was more of him. And he makes it a mission.

He was insatiable. Every little chance. Every off-second that the both of you had, you were glued to each other instantly.

The dawn light barely filtering through and he's already behind you. Chest pressed to your back, one big hand splayed over your stomach while the other guides his aching cock between your thighs. "Feel that?" he rasps. "That's for you. All for you. Gonna breed this pretty pussy till I see you show."

You gasp, arching as he sinks in slow but relentless, stretching you open the way only he can. He doesn't rush at first. Just deep, grinding rolls that make your toes curl. But then the feral edge creeps in. His grip tightens on your hip, fangs grazing your shoulder. He fucks you harder, the wet slap of skin echoing in the marui.

"Gonna fill you up again. Gonna pump you so full you'll be dripping me for days. Can't stop thinkin' about it... Your belly round, tits heavy, all mine."

You whimper his name. He flips you onto your stomach, yanks your hips up, and drives back in. Rough now. The way he pins you down, one hand fisted in your braids, the other rubbing frantic circles over your swollen clit until you clench around him.

He follows right after, hips stuttering, flooding you with heat until it spills out around where the two of you meet. He stays buried deep after, panting against your neck. "Stay like this. Let it take."

But there are no breaks with him.

Midday, gathering herbs near the river, he spots you bending over, loincloth riding up your thighs, and he's on you in seconds. He drags you behind a curtain of vines, shoves you against the bark, takes your leg around his waist. "Can't wait," he grits out, already hard. This time it's fast. Desperate and short brutal thrusts that make your breasts bounce and your breath catch at a loss for words and sounds. "Fuck. Look at you. Takin' me so good. Gonna give you what you need."

You claw at his shoulders, moaning into his mouth as he kisses you sloppy and deep. He comes with a groan, grinding in slow to push every drop deeper. "That's it, baby. Take it all."

Night falls and he's no better.

The clan is gathered around the ceremonial fire, sharing stories, but Jake's hand is already under your loincloth. Fingers teasing your slick folds while everyone seems not to notice. You bite your lip to stay quiet. He leans in against your ear. "Later. When they're all sleep. I'm gonna eat this pussy till you cry, then fuck you on all fours till the stars spin."

And so he keeps his word. In the darkest hour of the night, Jake wakes you with his mouth. Just the warm, wet slide of his tongue parting your folds like he's starving and you're the only thing that can feed him.

You stir awake with a gasp, thighs instinctively going to close around his head. He's got your legs hooked over his broad shoulders, strong hands pinning your hips so you can’t squirm away. Not like you wanted to anyway.

He groans against your cunt like the taste of you is better than anything he has tasted. Long licks from your entrance to your clit, then he sucks, drawing the swollen bud between his lips until your back bows off the sleeping mat.

"Jake-!" You cry, head tossing back as you try not to jerk your hips away.

He pulls back just enough to speak, lips glistening. "Shhh, baby. Don't wake the whole damn clan. Not yet." Then he dives back in, tongue spearing inside you, fucking you with it while his nose grinds against your clit. One thumb circles the tight ring of your ass. Just teasing, just enough to make you clench. You're shaking. Already so close from the way he's ravishing you. He knows exactly when you're about to break.

He pulls off with a lewd pop, climbs up your body in one motion, and notches himself at your entrance before you can even catch your breath. "Look at me," he growls.

Your eyes find his in the dim moonlight that fights its way through the sheer netting of your tent. He's beautiful like this. Completely fucked up for just you.

He sinks in slow. So slow you feel every part of him as he stretches you open again. Your walls flutter around him, still sensitive from earlier. Still slick with his come and your own arousal.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes, head dropping to his chest. "You're so goddamn wet for me. Still full of me from this morning. Feel that? How slippery you are? That’s my come still inside you. Gonna add more. Gonna keep you so full you'll never be empty again."

Your body has a reaction to his dirty words, and you feel yourself clenching around him with need.

He starts moving. Long strokes that drag every self of him along your fluttering walls. Loving the way your body sucks him back in like it never wants to let go.

"Goddamn, baby," he groans, voice rough and, hips rolling in deep. "This pussy's greedy for me. Grippin' me so tight-like she knows what she wants. Knows I'm gonna breed her full again."

You whimper in response, nails digging into his biceps. He's so deep it feels like he's touching something sacred inside you.

He leans down, teeth grazing your throat. "Say it," he murmurs against your skin. "Tell me, baby. Tell me what you need."

Your voice comes out breathless. "I need-you-Jake-need you to fill me. Need your baby in me. Please-breed me-make me yours like that-"

He groans at your words and he pulls out almost all the way, then slams back in so hard your whole body jolts. That's when his gentle facade falters.

He flips you onto your knees, chest to your back, one massive arm head locking you to keep you arched just right. His other hand grips your hips. This position has you right pressed up against him.

"Fuck yes," he growls, hips snapping forward. "That's my good girl. Takin' it so deep. Gonna fuck a baby right into this tight little cunt. Gonna make sure it sticks this time."

The wet sound of him pounding into you fills the void. Skin slapping skin, your slick coating his thighs. He's vocal, so fucking vocal, every thrust punctuated by his dirty praise.

"Look at you, baby-fuckin' soaked. Drippin' down my cock. You love this, don't you? Love when I use you like this. Love knowin' I'm gonna pump you so full you'll be leakin' me for days."

"Jake-oh Eywa-Jake-!" You cry, arms hanging loosely at your sides.

He reaches around, rough fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, merciless circles. "Come for me, baby. Come on my cock. Milk me. Squeeze every drop out."

Your body obeys his command before your mind can catch up. Your walls spasm hard around his thick length, clamping down in tight, pulses that drag a guttural curse from deep in his chest.

"Fuck-yes-there it is-fuckin' milk me, baby-take it all-" He doesn't slow down a second. If anything, he fucks you harder through your climax, chasing the way your cunt squeezes, milking him dry. His fingers never leave your clit.

You're a mess. Tears streaking your cheeks, tail lashing wildly. Every snap of his hips forces more slick out around his cock, dripping hot down your thighs.

"Gonna come-shit-gonna fill this greedy little pussy again-gonna breed you so deep-!" His rhythm stutters, hips slamming forward one last time as he buries himself. You feel the thick pulse of his cock as he unloads. Heavy spurts flooding, painting your insides until there's nowhere left for it to go. It spills out around him, marking you from the inside out.

He keeps rocking slowly, pushing it all in while he pants against your neck. "Stay-fuck-don't move, baby. Keep it all in. Let my seed do its job."

You're trembling, still unintentionally clenching weakly around him like your body refuses to let go. His arm loosens from around your throat, sliding down to cradle your stomach instead. Big palm splayed wide.

"Feel that?" he whispers. "That's me. Still inside you. Gonna stay like this till morning if I have to. Till you're so full it's leaking out every time you move."

"Mamaaaaa! I asked you a question!!" Your daughter Iska tugged on weaving you were working on disrupting your thoughts.

You shook your head, looking back down at her. "Uh, what was your question again?" You said, giving a sheepish smile.

She puffed up her cheeks and crossed her arms. "I said, where did I come from?"

"Well…" you started, patting the woven mat beside you so Iska could climb up into your lap. She climbed in eagerly, settling against your chest, little hands clutching the beaded necklace Jake had made you years ago.

"You came from me and your daddy," you said simply, brushing a braid behind her pointed ear. "From the love we have for each other. From the way Eywa braided our souls together."

Iska tilted her head, clearly not satisfied. "But how?"

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. "Ma 'ite, I'll tell you when you're ready."

taglist: @queefmasterr @naveaian @thel0v3hashira143 @ynniksslirg @yumyumyumsworld @akaakari @ivarasite @simpingoveredmundbrb @sleepygirl-inc @bunnyredgirl @zzma-rs @starmylife4ever @pinkdestinytaco @scenic236 @hiyik @haunted-haven

can we talk abt the picture of him for a sec cus oh my

[evvrloree]

one shot

part 2

aged up!olo'eyktan!aonung x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: it's time to deliver the first heir of the olo'eyktan.

tags: childbirth (NOTHING GRAPHIC) , kinda emotional , comfort

a/n: not my best work, but I really felt like I wanted to write something like this knowing how aonung is a bratty kid and just wondering how he'll be as a father.

theme: beautiful boy & tough little boys

Your sleep was cut short in the very early morning much to your dismay. You rose from your sleeping mat and clutched your swollen stomach, letting out a quiet sigh. However, not quiet enough to not stir up your sleeping husband.

Aonung blinked to life, rising up slowly next to you. "Is everything okay?" He groggily reached for the hand that you had covering your stomach. The panic in his voice was evident despite how sleepy he sounded.

"Yes." You whispered starting to get up. "I just need... to breathe..." You walked over to the open entrance of your marui, the dark night sky dimly illuminating your teal skin. You were just about to walk out from the entrance when you stumbled, and caught yourself on the frame of the doorway.

Aonung didn't hesitate and immediately jumped up from the sleeping mat to balance you, one hand on your lower back and the other at your stomach. "What is it? What's wrong? Is it the baby?" He rambled on, the panic in his eyes getting worse every second you didn't respond.

"It's fine I just..." You folded over yourself a little, the sharp pain digging into your lower stomach far back into your spine. A loud groan escaped from your throat as you struggled to find words to say. "Okay... yeah, maybe it is the baby." You mustered a small smile, looking at Aonung.

Aonung released his hold on you immediately. "Okay. Great." Aonung turned around, digging around the baskets in the marui as if he knew what he was looking for. "What do you need? Does it hurt a lot? Do I need to get the midwives? I should probably bring this. And this. And this. And what do you need? I think I need this. I need-"

"Aonung," you whispered, walking over to where he was crouched over, "Relax, please. It will still be a little longer before the baby gets here." You placed a hand on his tense shoulder.

"You're right." He sighed, dropping everything. "I'm just a little, nervous I guess." He shook his head.

"It's okay to be. I sure am." You said, tenderly massaging the area on his shoulder.

A couple of hours later, the village was finally awake. Every village woman, old and young, worked hand in hand to ensure you're comfortable. They walked you around the village, and escorted you to every spot you desired. Others helped prepare the sacred cave pool in which you would be having your delivery.

Aonung was never too far behind from your group of escorts, awkwardly trailing behind the focused ladies, unsure whether he should be here with you at all. You insisted that he come with, that you didn't want to go through this alone. And he did his best to stick to his promise that he would be there through it all.

Your painful contractions came in quicker now, longer, with shorter breaks. The village women prepared you quickly for your birth. They dressed you in a massive beautiful woven top that draped over your shoulders, and expanded in the water. They decorated your curls with sea shells, and dried starfish, all in beautiful iridescent colors. They had woven long strands of glowing sea fans and pearl-strung vines into your gown to symbolize each milestone in your life. One shell in particular, came from Tsireya herself. One that her mother wore when she gave birth. And last but not least, a large red shiny scale Aonung gifted you when he first courted you.

The time to deliver came shortly after. The midwives helped you into the shallow warm water of the cave. The woven ceremonial top floated around you like petals in the water. Aonung's red scale hung loosely near your chest, right on top of your heart, like a talisman of Aonung's first promise. Your hair floated gently behind you, like rich seaweed rolling in from the tide.

The whole clan had arrived to watch the birth of the Olo'eyktan's first heir. Many midwives of all ages knelt next to you in the water, some holding your legs back, and others holding various instruments and woven blankets. Aonung was not far behind, infact he knelt right at your side, still unsure of his placement, and what he should be doing at this moment.

The midwives chants and gentle words of encouragement filled the atmosphere like strong confidence you needed. The resonant songs of the nearby tulkun sent vibrations through the warm water, like a living blessing from Eywa herself.

Aonung watched intently, searching your face for discomfort, and also trying to steady himself and keep from panicking. The last thing he wanted to do was freak you out with him. The water lapped at his chest, and his tail flicked anxiously under the water.

You let out a pained groan, hunching forward. The midwives encouraged you to breathe again, take a moment to collect yourself. You instinctively turned to face your husband, and reached out a hand for him to take.

He didn't hesitate a second, instantly taking your hand in his, letting you squeeze it as hard as you needed, and the other placed behind your back. "I'm here." He spoke, a slight waver in his voice. "Whatever you need, I'm here." His eyes were full of plea and excitement, kind of like he was on the verge of crying.

"Just- be here, please." You gasped, clutching his hand harder. "Of course. I won't go anywhere." He scooted closer to you, the water sloshing around him and in the process splashing the midwives, in turn they all gave him a hard stare.

Ronal, standing just in front of you led the prayers and invited others to join her. The midwives around you: some holding your legs with gentle firmness, others ready with woven cloths and beads, all moved with you, at your own pace. An elder woman whispered encouragement to you, reminding you that the sea carried every na'vi child from the womb into Eywa's embrace.

The pain sharpened once more, more than ever before. You hunched over again, a guttural moan escaped your throat. Your tulkun sister returned your call with a gentle vibration deep within her heart. Her own calf swam idly under her motherly fin.

You squeezed Aonung's hand with such intensity he almost cried. You then turned to look at him. "I-I can't... Aonung, im scared." You whispered, almost crying.

His heart pinched at your silent confession. The fear in your voice was enough to let the tears roll down his face, but he had to be strong, for himself, and for you. He shifted closer to you, so much so that his chest was pressed up right to your shoulder, and he brought your joined hands right up to his heart so you could feel how fast it was beating.

"Hey." He murmmered, his voice was low and steady despite his own anxiousness he hid. He tilted his head downwards to touch foreheads. "Look at me." He whispered.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to meet his. Yours glassy with pain and unshed tears that threatened to fall. "You're not alone. I'm here. I'm scared too, terrified even." He gave a small smile. "But we are doing this together, for the baby. You've carried them this far. If anyone can bring them into the world, it's you."

A fresh contraction rolled through your body again before you could answer him. You curled forward again with a sharp cry, ears pinning and fangs peeking through your lips. Aonung moved with you, supporting you through loving kisses and a firm hand on your back.

You groaned, letting your head fall back onto your shoulders. "Wow, you make it look easy..." Aonung commented, but stopped himself short when you shot him the hardest glare you could.

You rode the pain down, trembling, and when it stopped, you slumped on Aonung's chest, ragged breathing tearing through your tired lungs. "I've got you." He trembled, "I've got you."

Another contraction built up again, faster, and fiercer this time. The midwives gathered closely once more, and gave gentle commands. Push when you felt it, and rest when you didn't. Aonung whispered sweet nothings into your ear, never letting you go, like you might drift too far if he did.

The final surge of pain hit like nothing before. So you gave it everything you could. You keeled forward, clutching the backs of your thighs and letting a powerful cry tear from your throat.

Then- relief. A warm rush of lightness fell over your body. Ronal caught your baby gently in the water before lifting him just enough to breach the surface for his first breath. He broke the surface with a fierce and startled cry that hushed any who spoke.

The cave then erupted in joyful sound, utliating sounds coming from each person, and the welcoming trill of the tulkun that surrounded the pool. Your own tulkun sister singing her own heart song to welcome your new baby.

Aonung just stared, frozen in place. Ronal placed your baby in your arms, connecting both yours and your son's kurus. You felt the thumping heartbeat of your tiny son through the shared connection, all his fear simmered down the moment he felt your warmth and love through the shared bond. Tears rolled down your face as you smiled down at your bundle of joy.

Aonung still hadn't moved. His hand that held you now trembled. Slow tears spilled from his eyes. He was no longer that boy that teased you, that you used to sneak out to see late at night. He was a man, a father. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and opened it again after swallowing. Finally he managed to speak, "...ours?"

"Yes." You whispered, taking your baby's hand in your finger. "Ours."

Ronal smiled after letting out a sigh, pressing a hand to your arm, whispering a sweet blessing, letting you enjoy the tender moment.

Aonung reached out slowly, cautiously as if he might break him if he moved the wrong way. His palm engulfed almost the entirety of his son, who wiggled at the feel of his warm hand. Aonung drew in a shaky breath to stop himself from sobbing. "I... I was so scared. I'm so proud of you. You did this, all by yourself." He spoke, hand trembling over his baby.

"No." You whispered. "You had just as much of this as anyone here. I am thankful." You grabbed his hand with your free hand, stroking it with your thumb.

Aonung smiled, placing a small kiss to your temple. "He's got your eyes." He said, idly tracing circles on your lower back. Those sea-glass eyes Aonung got lost in the moment he first laid eyes on them. "He's got your cute nose. I think he looks a lot like you." You booped the baby's nose softly, earning a little babble from him.

Aonung gave a small laugh. "Great. Another one of me. The reef is doomed."

You giggled, holding your son closer to your chest. "Yue." You whispered. "His name is Yue (meaning "inner beauty")."

"Yue. My beautiful boy." Aonung then leaned in to kiss you and Yue on the head. "I love you." He whispered. "I love you both."

You lifted Yue enough for Aonung to get the intention you wished for him to hold his son. And Aonung finally found the courage to lift his son into his arms. He did it with the same tenderness and gentleness he first did when he placed that red scale into your hair.

Yue fussed a little, then calmed again once he felt the warmth of his father's chest, placing a tiny palm up against the warm skin. Aonung shuddered, fighting back tears, but failing miserably to do so. He had never felt such emotions before. "I don't know how to be a father," he admitted in the smallest voice you'd ever heard from him. "I've led hunts. I've faced akula. I’ve stood before the entire clan and spoken words I barely believed myself. But this…" He swallowed. "This is bigger than all of it."

You smiled, tearing up yourself at Aonung's heartfelt confession. "It's okay." You whispered, bringing a hand to his arm.

"I promise you," he whispered to his son, "I will protect you. I will teach you the currents and the songs and the names of every fish in the reef. I will embarrass you in front of your friends when you're older, and I will hold you when the world feels too big. And I will never, never, let anything take you from me. My beautiful boy."

Yue began to doze off at that, nuzzling his head deep into his fathers arms. "Goodnight Yue. See you in the morning. Bright and early."

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[evvrloree]

one shot

aonung x fem!sully!omatikaya!reader

summary: when moving to awa'atlu with your family, It was like leaving your culture behind. you had to get used to the materials provided for you there. it got harder and harder to maintain your hair, jealous of the other native women here and how they were just able to let their hair loose. your boyfriend decides to take it up on himself to learn how to do your hair despite having a completely different hair type.

tags: sfw , fluff , comfort

a/n: i love this sm it made me so happy proof reading teehee

theme: the blonde

Getting accustomed to the ways of the Metkayina was easier said than done. You had to be an excellent diver, a master breath holder, able to tame and ride any ocean mount, learn the ways they knotted their fishing nets, which coral was venomous and which ones weren't. It was all too similar to learning the forest as a baby. But you weren't. You were an adult. Relearning the world.

Worst of all, it was a challenge to do your hair. Sure, it was kept in braids, but as your time here on Awa'atlu grew longer, so did your hair, which meant rebraiding once in a while. Unfortunately for you, the village women were not too knowledgeable on how to tame your small spirals and coils your head sprouted. Some tried. It ended with a shell comb tangled in your head for six hours and a painful scrub of sea salt to get it out.

They did not have the special tools the Omatikaya had that was just right for their hair type. Special salves. Picks to comb through the dense hair. You always complained to anyone who listened.

"Why is it fair for them to let their hair loose while mine remains messy and untamed?" You sulked, crossing your arms. You were admiring a woman who had her long loose curls cascading down her back with delicate shells laced through different strands.

Kiri sighed. "You are perfect the way you are, sister. Who do you need to change for?" She placed a hand on your shoulder with a smile.

You narrowed your eyes. "Nevermind." You said, upset at her lack of understanding. How could she? Her hair was perfectly straight and wavy in all the right places. Perfect for every hairstyle possible.

Aonung always had an earful about it. There was never a time you two were alone together that he didn't hear you complain about your hair. And how unfair it was that he could have both braids and loose curls. Or how his mother's and Tsireya's hair looked to full and beautiful in their delicate hairstyles.

"You're still sulking about this?" Aonung rolled his eyes for the one millionth time.

"Yes," you said quickly, "And I'll never stop."

While he did find it annoying, he admitted it was a little heartbreaking the way you tried your best to mimic the common hairstyles the women in Awa'atlu flaunted. It wasn't horrible. It just wasn't you.

"Why must you wish to be like the rest of them? You are special, uniquely you." He said softly, reaching a hand to one of the intricate beads in your hair, twisting it between his fingers.

You turned your face away from his to hide the blush that was creeping up on you. "What if I wanted to be traditional for you?" You mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. Innocent, adorable.

Aonung's fingers paused on the bead he'd been toying with. He let out a slow breath, almost a laugh. "You think I want you to change?"

You both stopped walking since he placed both his hands on your upper arm and crouched to your eye level. You started to look away again, but he tilted your chin back up.

"I don't want traditional. I like you." He said, eyes scanning your face.

"But..." you started, voice small. "The other women-"

"Are not you," he cut in. "I won't hear any of it."

You sighed angrily, but your smile said otherwise. "Skxawng." You pushed him away with your hand to his chest.

Aonung took into account every word you said. He saw how desperately you truly wanted to fit in to his culture. He knew that if it were the other way around, he would do exactly the same. So he did the next best thing.

The Sully marui was calm with just the distant chatter of Neytiri, Tuk, and Kiri. Yourself and the boys went adventuring somewhere on the reef. Lo'ak insisted he found something interesting he just had to show you the second he saw it.

Aonung stopped just short of the entrance of the marui, sucking in a deep breath. More than half of your family had thought he was a big jerk after the whole scandal with Lo'ak. And when your family first found out Aonung had been courting you behind their back. Well. Let's say they weren't too overjoyed. He exhaled sharply through his nose. This was going to be awkward. But he wasn't here for their approval today. He was here for you.

He ducked inside, keeping his posture respectful. Tail low, ears slightly back in deference. Neytiri noticed him first. She paused mid-motion, herbs in hand, golden eyes flicking up to meet his.

"Aonung," she said flatly. No warmth, no welcome. Just his name.

He dipped his head. "I come to ask for your help, Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite."

She didn't move. Tuk peeked around her sister's leg, while Kiri glanced up from her weaving.

"Help?" Neytiri echoed. "That is a first." She turned back to the cooking fire, dropping herbs into the pot before standing up to greet him properly.

Aonung held his ground, though every instinct screamed to back away from the storm that was Neytiri. He swallowed once, then spoke clearly. He hated every second of this. He was glad it was only your sisters and not your brothers. They would surely skin him. "I would not come here if it were not important."

Neytiri crossed her arms, waiting. Aonung took a short breath. "It's about your daughter. Her hair... She tries to wear it like my people, but it never holds the way she wants. She complains about it everyday." He shaked his head with a smirk, but after seeing Neytiri's unchanging expression, he immediately straightened.

Kiri set her weaving aside completely now, turning to face them. "It is true, mother."

Neytiri said nothing for a long beat. Then she exhaled through her nose. "You think you can do better?"

Aonung barely met her eyes. "I think I can learn to do it the way she needs. The way it was done in the forest. For her."

Another silence. Tuk rocked forward onto her knees. "Can he do mine?" She tilted her head, braids falling onto her face. Neytiri glanced down at her youngest, then back to Aonung.

She walked to the storage mats without another word and knelt. From a small sealed basket she withdrew the bone pick, and the familiar clay jar of salve, still carrying the faint scent of forest herbs. She set them down in front of her

"Tuk," she said simply. Tuk scrambled over and sat cross-legged between them, back straight, tail flicking in excitement. Neytiri knelt behind her daughter and motioned for Aonung to sit.

"Watch closely," she said. "And do exactly as I show you. If you hurt her, even just a little, I will know." She didn't even turn to look at him as she said it. Aonung just swallowed down his fear.

She began. Her movements were slow, almost meditative. "Never pull from the root first. Always start at the ends." She spoke, instructing with her fingers. "Feel with your fingers before the pick touches. If it resists, stop. Back out. Section smaller." She demonstrated on a small tangle, teasing it apart with the pick. Then she handed the pick to Aonung. "Show me."

He glanced at Neytiri, nervous, but he took it carefully. The first attempt was clumsy, too much tugging, a small wince from Tuk.

"Too hard," she complained instantly. She let out a "gah" and ripped the tool from Aonung's hands who looked absolutely dumbfounded. Neytiri corrected his mistake, then handed him back the pick. "Lighter."

He adjusted. The second attempt was better. By the fourth, his fingers moved with more confidence in what he was doing. Still not perfect, but careful. Neytiri watched every motion. When they reached the salve, she scooped a small dollop into her palm, rubbed her hands together, then worked it through Tuk's hair in slow circles.

"Too much weighs it down. Too little and the strands fly loose. Feel the texture change. It should soften, not slick." Aonung copied her exactly. Tuk sighed happily, sinking into the touch. "That feels nice." Neytiri didn't smile, but she didn’t stop him either.

When Tuk's hair was half-finished, she finally eased and sat back to let him work. "You have patient hands when you choose to use them." Aonung let out a sheepish smirk, then continued his work without word.

"Practice more. On Tuk." She tilted her head to the side, watching his careful hands.

Aonung finally looked back at her, "I will honor what you've taught me. Thank you, Neytiri."

The next few days blurred into routine practice. Tuk turned into a demanding teacher insisting on, "looser twists," "no boring braids." Every mistake was an immediate "Ow!" or "Do it again!" But each lesson made his hands surer. He learned the rhythm: section, detangle, salve, braid, bead.

Soon enough, he was confident enough he didn't need feedback. So when he saw you sitting on the lifted pathway of your marui, struggling with a large dollop of salve in your hair, pick between your teeth, he decided to show off his hard earned skills.

"Still struggling?" Aonung sat beside you, feet dangling below where yours did too. You turned to look at him, a handful of your hair in one hand, the other reaching for more salve. A large whiny exhale left your throat through your teeth. You looked on the verge of crying because your hair wouldn't cooperate. Taking the pick out of your mouth you spoke, "I'm so close to just going bald at this point."

Aonung gave a small laugh. "Amusing as that would be, no." Aonung reached over, plucking the pick from your fingers before you could stab it back into your scalp. He set it aside with the jar of salve.

"Stop fighting for one minute," he murmured. "Let me."

You let him take the lead, puzzled. "Let you?" You turned your head so he could work on the coils. "I'm surprised you know anything about hair."

Aonung scoffed, parting your hair gently, already sectioning off some pieces. "Have you seen these curls?" He accentuated, tossing his head back, his own beautiful hair swaying gently with the movement.

You giggled. "Whatever. Try if you must, but if you pluck even one strand off my head, you're going in with the akula."

Aonung puffed out air. "Impossible but noted."

You immediately tensed your shoulders, preparing for tugging and brutal pain to your scalp. But interestingly, he was gentle, careful, and detangling from the bottom, not the top. Not to mention, expertly sectioning off your hair. "How...?" You said, holding the parts of your hair he instructed you to hold as he parted the rest.

He didn't answer right away. Instead he scooped a small amount of your salve, rubbed it between his palms the exact way Neytiri had shown him, then worked it through your hair, gently. Then he stopped to face you, pulling your head gently to the side, "What do you want tonight?" You blinked. "What?"

"Hair style," he clarified, ears flicking back slightly. "Half-up? Full braids? Loose with beads? Tell me." You stared at him for a long second, processing. After you took a few seconds too long to answer, he pulled out a pouch from beside him. "I also collected these." He poured out a handful of pretty shells into his palm.

Your ears perked forward as you caught the sight of the beautiful iridescent shells. You looked from the shells to his eyes. "You... gathered these?"

"I collected them," he said simply. "Thought they might look good. With your hair." He glanced at your face, gobsmacked. He cleared his throat, ducking back from your view. You closed your mouth, and replied. "Half-up," you whispered, returning neutral, but still skeptical. "Small braids along the top... use the shells. The rest loose. Please."

He nodded and got to work. His hands moved with confidence now sectioning the crown into neat rows, braiding each one small and tight enough to hold through a swim but loose enough not to pull at your roots. Every few braids he paused to thread in a shell and bead. The rest he left free. He used his fingers to coax the coils into definition. Gentle scrunching, light separation, so they bounced and framed your face instead of sticking outward. When he finally leaned back, he let out a slow breath. "Done."

You leaned toward the water, the surface calm enough to mirror you perfectly. The reflection made tears prick into the corners of your eyes. Your hair was perfectly styled, slick braids going down the top half of your head, laced with tiny shells with beads, then perfectly poofed out at the ends. Not forced into something new. Just uniquely yours.

You turned fast, and threw your arms around his neck before he could brace himself. He caught you with a grunt of surprise, arms coming around your waist to steady you both.

"Thank you," you mumbled into the crook of his neck. "You have no idea-"

"I do," he said quietly, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. "I understand now. And I wanna make you happy."

You pulled back just enough to look at him. He looked softer. Not tense. Not afraid of what anyone had to say.

"So you went to my mother," you said, laughing. "You let her threaten you. For hair."

"For you," he corrected, thumb brushing your upper cheek. "Hair's just the start. I want all of you comfortable here. Happy here. Nothing I want more than that."

You hugged him again, tighter.

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[evvrloree]

one shot

lo'ak sully x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: lo'ak says something he shouldn't have, do you forgive him?

tags: sfw , hurt , comfort

a/n: we all need some angst in our lives. IM SO BUSY WITH WORK UGH I JUST WANNA WRITE

theme: little talks

Lo'ak let out a loud groan and pulled himself free of his father's grip. His tears were now spilling freely from his eyes, he didn't care who saw them. You bit your lip, contemplating your next move, before ultimately deciding to follow quickly after him. From what you overheard, Lo'ak's father, Jake, had said some pretty degrading things to him.

Lo'ak stormed off the beach, his tail lashing behind him violently. The night waves crashed harder than usual, as if Eywa herself felt the storm inside him. "Lo'ak," you called softly when you caught up.

He spun around, eyes red-rimmed. "What do you want? To tell me I'm a screw-up too? That I should've stayed out of it? That I'm not worth the air I breathe?"

His words hit like a slap, sharper than anything Jake had said. You flinched but didn't retreat. "No. I just... I wanted to make sure you were alright. I want to be here." Your face expressed one of worry.

Lo'ak scoffed. "Here for what? To watch me fall apart? To pity me?" He stepped closer, towering in his anger. "You don't get it. None of you do. He looks at me and sees a mistake. A disappointment. And maybe he's right."

You grabbed his hand in yours, "No, Lo'ak-"

"Stop." His voice cracked, yanking his hand free from your gentle touch. "Just... stop pretending like you care. Everyone pretends until they realize I'm not Neteyam. I'm not the golden son. I'm the one who gets people hurt." His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Maybe you should go back to your perfect little life. Leave me alone."

The hurt in his tone twisted into something uglier. "Go! Before I say something worse." The guilt consumed him the second the words left his tongue. He wanted to take it back, tell you he didn't mean it, that he was sorry. But he made his bed, and now he has to lie in it.

You throat tightened. You felt the tears build up in your eyes, and you tried your best to bite them back. You wanted to reach for him, wrap him in your arms and ensure him that he was more than enough, and you loved him the way he was.

You didn't cry until you were far enough that the waves drowned the sound. The tears came hot and fast then. Not just from the sting of his words, but from how clearly you saw the hurt behind them. The hurt that made him lash out instead of lean in. You loved him too much to force your way through to him, so you let the distance grow.

Your days followed with a dull ache.

You threw yourself into village duties: tending to the ilu, harvesting sea grapes with your friends, practicing new knotting techniques till your hands cramped. When you noticed Lo'ak, you avoided him like a sickness, fleeing any interaction that might happen. He needed his space, and so did you. His words cut you like a dagger, and you weren't so sure you could forgive him easily.

He suffered in his own way. Putting on a face for others, showing up when needed, and hiding in the ocean with his brother, Payakan. Each time you avoided his gaze, or completely disregarded his presence, it felt like a large crack splitting right in the middle of his heart. He replayed the look on your face endlessly: the way your ears flattened, how your eyes turned glassy with each hopeless blink. He'd wish he'd done better, run out and catch your hand, beg on his knees right in front of you that he didn't mean it.

But this was his doing. And he had to face those consequences.

Tsireya questioned why you hadn't been with Lo'ak as much recently. "Where is Lo'ak?" She asked when she saw you alone doing your favourite thing: diving the reef to search for shells. You always loved Lo'ak's company during your favourite pastime. He flowered you with compliments each time you commented on a pretty shell, reminding you that you were the real treasure.

"He's... dealing with things," you said quietly, hiding your face. "Family things."

"Lo'ak has not been the same since that night on the beach. He dives alone now, or with Payakan." She trailed off, ears lowering a fraction. "He misses you. More than he says."

The words stung. You looked down at the rippling surface, watching your reflection. "He told me to leave him alone. Said I should go back to my 'perfect little life.' Like I was just another person pretending he mattered." Your hands curled into fists, although you weren't angry.

Tsireya reached out, touching your arm lightly. "He didn't mean it. You know that. The hurt in him speaks louder than his heart sometimes." You nodded, throat tight. She squeezed your arm once before letting go. She swam off after that, leaving you with the quiet hum of the reef.

Tonight the bay glowed brighter than usual, as if Eywa had lit her own lanterns especially for you. You sat and stared out into the vast horizon, unsure where the sea ended and the skyline started. Your knees were drawn up, arms wrapped around them, staring at the glowing waves the tide drew in.

Soft footsteps approached, hesitant, familiar. You didn't look up, but your ears flicked toward the sound. Lo'ak stopped several steps away, tail low, ears flattened in shame. He looked smaller somehow, stripped of the anger that had armored him before.

"I know I don't deserve to be here," he said quietly.. "I know I hurt you. Badly. And I... I can't take it back."

Silence answered him, thick and expectant.

"The second you walked away, I wanted to chase after you. Tell you I didn't mean any of it. That you're the only one who ever makes me feel like I'm not just... broken spare parts." His breath hitched. "But I was scared. Scared you'd see exactly what my dad sees. Scared if I let you in, I'd ruin you too."

You finally turned your head, eyes meeting his. They were glassy, rimmed with exhaustion and remorse. Your own eyes were filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill over.

Your expression pained his own. He hated to see how his actions continued to hurt others.

He swallowed hard. "I miss you. Every second without you feels wrong."

You hugged your legs tighter to your chest, and turned away again, dipping your head in the space between your arms. "There's a voice in my head that keeps telling me to stay strong and ignore you." You said, voice on the verge of cracking.

"Well tell her that I miss our little talks."

You kept your face buried between your arms for a long moment, breathing in the salt and the glow, trying to steady the tremor in your chest. His words felt heavy as they left his mouth. They weren't grand declarations or excuses. Just the truth, the way the two of you used to speak when no one else mattered. When you'd float together above the reef, pointing out tiny glowing creatures and trading stories until the stars came out.

You let out a shaky breath, uncurling just a bit. "You really hurt me, Lo'ak. You made me feel like... like I was nothing. Like my care was just pity."

"I know. I know I did. And I hate that I did it to you. You were one of the only people who never viewed me less than I was." He dropped to his knees in the sand beside you, close enough that his shadow merged with yours. "I was drowning in my own head. My dad's voice... it got so loud. And instead of letting you help, I pushed you away. Because if I let you see how badly I ruin things, maybe you'd finally agree with him."

You turned fully toward him then, searching his face. His eyes looked tired, heavy, exhausted possibly from crying too much.

His heart pinched at your teary eyes, glassy and puffy. He just wanted to wrap you in his arms and give you the tightest hug and never let you go. It killed him to see how badly his actions hurt you.

"Lo'ak." You said, scoffing. "You are everything to me and more." You uncurled yourself fully, body facing him fully. "I don't care what anyone else thinks of you. I care only about you and nothing else. What matters now is who you want to be. What they tell you you are, or who I see when I look at you." A teardrop rolled down your cheek, falling into the sand.

Lo'ak's ears lifted slightly, the first small sign of hope breaking through the shame that had weighed them down for days. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and opened it again. Thick tears welled in his eyes, and a sob tore through him. His head hung low as he tried to fight the feeling.

Your ears flattened at his reaction, instinctively pulling him into your arms. You held him just as tightly, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other wrapped around his shoulders, rocking him ever so slightly the way your mother used to when you were small and the ocean felt too big.

His face buried itself below your collarbone, and he hugged your lower waist tightly. Lo'ak clung to you like you were the only solid thing left in his world. His shoulders shook with each muffled sob against your skin. He spewed out "I'm sorry's" and other incoherent words you really couldn't understand.

"It's killing me to see you this way..." You mumbled, your own voice becoming wobbly.

"I hate that I made you cry. I hate that I made you think you weren't enough. You're everything. You're more than I deserve." His voice was small, just above a whisper.

"Don't say that." You shook your head. "You deserve more than you think." You stroked his back lightly, reassuring him.

"I don’t know how to believe that yet," he admitted, voice barely carrying over the tide. "But I want to. For you. Because you keep saying it… and you keep staying."

You brushed a stray braid from his face, tucking it behind his ear. "Then let me keep saying it," you murmured. "Until it drowns out everything else. Until it's louder than your dad's voice, louder than everything bad. I'm not going anywhere, Lo'ak. Not unless you tell me, with your whole heart, that you really want me gone."

He let out a shaky exhale. "Never. Not again. I was an idiot. A stupid-" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "I won't." His hand found yours in the sand, fingers threading together slowly, like he was re-learning how the touch was supposed to feel. Safe. Wanted. Loved.

taglist: @queefmasterr @naveaian @thel0v3hashira143 @ynniksslirg @yumyumyumsworld @akaakari @ivarasite @simpingoveredmundbrb @sleepygirl-inc @bunnyredgirl @zzma-rs @starmylife4ever @pinkdestinytaco @scenic236 @hiyik @haunted-haven

ily lo'ak don't listen to them

[evvrloree]

one shot

loak sully x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: lo'ak is always complaining about his 'alien' features. you decide to prove to him that it's all in his head.

tags: 18+ MDNI NSFW , smut , fingering , overstim , hand hyperfixation

a/n: well this was kinda 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 guys pls comment I feel like I'm writing for bots here </3

theme: not around

You can't count the amount of times Lo'ak complained to you about his "alien" or "demon" features. His extra finger, the hair on his brows, his slightly smaller features.

You couldn't understand why. You explained to him multiple times already that you didn't care where he came from or what he looked like, you loved him for him.

But boy did you love his hands.

The way his veins popped out when he gripped his knife. Or how his long fingers, five of them, not four, curled so perfectly around the handle of an ilu rein, knuckles whitening with focus as he cut through the water beside you. You'd watched him for months now, the way he flexed those hands unconsciously when he was frustrated, or how they trembled just slightly after a fight with his father.

He hated them. Called them proof he'd never belong. But to you, they were beautiful. More capable. And Eywa help you, they made heat coil low in your belly every time he touched you.

Tonight was too much the same. Lo'ak sat on the woven mat you'd dragged out here, knees drawn up, staring at his open palms like they'd betrayed him.

"I just wish I fit in more. That I was normal." He grumbled.

You shifted closer until your thigh pressed to his. "Nothing is wrong with you, Lo'ak." You said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He sighed, shoulders slumping as he flexed his fingers again, spreading them wide, then curling them into a loose fist.

You reached for his hand, the one closest to you, and lifted it gently between both of yours. His palm was large, warm, roughened in all the right places. The faint raised lines where veins threaded beneath the surface like rivers under moonlight.

You turned his hand over slowly, cradling it like something sacred. "I love this hand," you murmured. You traced the longest vein first, the one that ran from the inside of his wrist, up the center of his palm, branching toward the base of his middle finger.

Lo'ak flicked his eyes from your face, back down to where your fingers were caressing him.

You kissed the center of his palm first. Open-mouthed, slow. Then you moved to the base of his thumb, pressing a wet, lingering kiss there before dragging your lips along the thick pad. When you reached the tip, you sucked the pad between your lips, tongue swirling once.

His fingers twitched hard. He exhaled heavily through his nose.

You didn't stop. You kissed each knuckle in turn. Index, middle, ring, pinky. Letting your teeth graze the skin just enough to make him intake a breath each time. When you reached the extra finger, the pinky he despised, you lingered. You circled the tip with your tongue, then took it fully into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked like you were savoring the very thing he hated most.

"Fuck-" His voice cracked. "You're-"

"Appreciating." You whispered against his skin. “The part of you that makes you different. I love it."

You guided his hand down. Past the beaded necklace that rested between your breasts. Over the curve of your ribs. Lower, until his fingertips brushed the thin strip of your loincloth where it tied at your hip.

You tugged the knot loose with trembling fingers. The cloth slipped away. You spread your thighs wider, hooking your left ankle over his right shin so he had no choice but to see everything.

His golden eyes dropped. Pupils blown so wide the iris was only a thin ring. He stared at where you glistened for him.

"Touch me with it," you said. "With all of it."

He hesitated for half a second, then something else took over. His hand slid between your thighs, palm cupping your entire sex in one possessive hold. The heel of his hand pressed firmly against your clit, rocking in a slow, grinding circle that made your hips jerk up off the mat.

"So wet," he rasped. "Just from touching my hands?"

"Always," you confessed, shameless. "Everytime I see them, I think of how badly I want them inside me. It pains me to see how much you hate them. So I want to show you how badly I love them. And you."

A growl rumbled in his chest. He decided he was going to give you the best fingering you've ever had.

He parted your folds with his index finger first, dragging his fingertip up and down, gathering your slick, and pushing inside. He did it all watching your face, cataloging every flutter of your lashes.

Your walls fluttered around the intrusion immediately. Lo'ak exhaled through his teeth, eyes locked on your face memorizing the exact shape your lips made when they parted.

"Good girl," he murmured, voice low and velvet-rough. "Look at how easily you take me already."

He didn't rush. Instead he curled his finger upward, dragging the pad along your front wall until he found that spongy patch that made your thighs twitch. He pressed there gently, while his thumb drifted up to rest feather-light over your clit, barely touching.

Your hips rolled instinctively, chasing more. He smiled. Dangerously pleased, and added his middle finger.

The second digit slid in alongside the first, stretching you wider. You felt every detail. He scissored them once, spreading you open inside, then curled both fingers together in that same hook, pressing harder against that perfect spot. Your back arched off the mat. A whimper slipped out before you could catch it.

"There she is," he whispered, thumb finally circling your clit. "That's my girl. Let me hear you."

He pumped them now. Long, measured strokes. Pulling almost all the way out then sliding back in deep. Slick sounds filled the quiet night. Each time he bottomed out, the heel of his palm mashed gently against your clit.

Your breathing turned ragged. Heat coiled tighter in your belly with every careful, worshipping stroke.

He watched you the entire time. Golden eyes dark, focused, drinking in every flutter of your lashes, every tiny roll of your hips. "You're so beautiful like this," he said softly. "Trusting me. Letting me feel how much you want this. Want me."

Without breaking rhythm he added his ring finger. Three now.

The stretch burned sweetly. Fuller, more overwhelming. Your walls clenched hard around the added width. He groaned low in his throat at the way you sucked him deeper.

Then he moved again.

Slower this time—deeper—curling all three fingers upward on every upstroke, battering that spot with relentless, patient precision while his thumb never left your clit, rubbing in perfect, tight circles that made sparks dance behind your eyelids.

Your thighs trembled. Your hands flew to his forearm, nails digging in, not to stop him, but to anchor yourself as pleasure built.

"Lo'ak-" His name came out pleading.

"I've got you," he promised, voice soft. Every touch controlled, every movement for your pleasure. "Just feel it. I'm not stopping until you come apart for me."

You felt his fingers spreading slightly inside you on the downstroke, stretching you open, then curling tight on the way back in.

And then finally, he gave you the fourth. His pinky, the one he hated, the one you adored, slid in alongside the others.

The stretch was intense. Borderline too much, and yet your body opened for him like it was made to. You cried out, hips bucking up to meet his hand.

"Shhh, yawne," he soothed, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead. "You're doing so well. Taking all of me. Look how pretty you are. Stretched around my fingers, dripping for them."

He kept the rhythm steady, controlled. Each stroke dragging every every knuckle, every vein along your sensitive walls. His curled fingertips pressed and rubbed that spot relentlessly while his thumb worked your clit, just enough to keep you climbing, climbing, climbing.

Your whole body began to shake. The coil in your belly pulled so tight it hurt. "Lo'ak-please-I'm-"

"I know," he murmured against your temple. "I can feel it. You're clenching so hard around me. Come on, baby. Give it to me. Let me feel how much you love these hands. Come all over them."

You were bucking your hips up wildly know, chasing the friction, trying to reach your climax. Your fingers dug so hard into his forearm, it might as well have left bruises.

Your orgasm slammed into you like a storm surge over the reef. Your walls clamped down around his fingers in rhythmic pulses, spasming so hard it forced a groan from Lo'ak's throat. You arched your back so hard you had to prop yourself upright with your free arm.

He didn't pull away. He didn't even slow. Just as it seemed like your climax had washed over, Lo'ak began to piston his fingers in and out of you with grave intensity.

Your walls, still fluttering and twitching from the first release, were forced to stretch and clench around the relentless intrusion again and again.

You gasped, almost pained. "Lo'ak-wait-too-too much-"

"Shh," he soothed even as he drove harder. "You can take it, yawne. You're so strong for me. I want to feel you come undone one more time…"

You cried, trying to clamp your thighs shut, but he used his other hand to pry them open and keep them there. His fingertips battered that swollen, abused bundle inside you relentlessly, no longer patient circles.

"Lo'ak-please-I can't-gonna-" The words dissolved into a high, broken whine. Your second climax followed quickly, sending sparks up your spine. You fell back completely on your back, pinned where he kept you, hips jumping up from the mat and back down.

"Fuck-!!" Your cries could probably be heard all throughout the village but you couldn't care right now. Another hot rush of slick flooded his palm, gathering down underneath where your ass was. Your thighs shook so violently they threatened to close despite his hold. Lo'ak groaned low in his throat at the feel of you.

This time he finally, finally, eased off. His fingers slowed, dragging out every aftershock of your orgasm to let it last. When the last tremor left your body, he eased out, eyeballing his soaked fingers, then taking them into his mouth.

He didn't rush. He sucked each finger clean one by one, starting with the pinky, the one he used to hate most. Lips wrapped around it, cheeks hollowing as he pulled it slowly from his mouth.

You watched him through lazy lids, trying to regain your sanity. He leaned down and kissed you slow and deep. You tasted yourself on his tongue.

When he pulled back just enough to speak, his was full of emotion. "Look at what you did," he murmured against your lips. "You came all over these 'alien' hands."

"They're perfect," you shuddered. "You're perfect. Don't… don't ever doubt it again."

Lo'ak exhaled a long, shuddering breath like something heavy had finally lifted from his chest.

taglist: @queefmasterr @naveaian @thel0v3hashira143 @ynniksslirg @yumyumyumsworld @akaakari @ivarasite @simpingoveredmundbrb @sleepygirl-inc @bunnyredgirl @zzma-rs @starmylife4ever @pinkdestinytaco @scenic236 @hiyik @haunted-haven @fizzywizzyglizzy @celestialsonglines @char-izard3 @marinefreaakk @nicaur @artfulthoughtsblog @trashyandtiredsol @erenjaegerwifee

[evvrloree]

one shot

jake sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: jake and reader are first time parents , reader is doubting herself and her ability to take care of both herself and her baby , jake does his best to comfort

tags: fluff , first time parents , comfort

a/n: got me shedding a tear

theme: my little love

The forest hummed softly around you, distant ikran calls fading into the dusk. You were sitting under a canopy of forest trees; a giant woven hammock sat under you. You cradled a small baby in your arms. His breaths are quiet and slow, deep in his restful sleep. His tiny fist stayed closed around the bead necklace you wore, the one your mother had given you the day you became Tsahìk’s apprentice. Now it felt heavier.

He was so small. Too small. Every shallow breath he took made your heart stutter. What if it stopped? What if you held him wrong? What if the weight of being his mother crushed you before you even learned how to carry it?

You pressed your lips to the top of his head, soft dark hair, and tried not to cry again. But the tears came anyway, silent.

Footsteps. Quiet ones. Jake.

He appeared through the vines, braid swinging, shoulders tense like he'd been searching for you. When he saw you, his face softened. He crossed the moss in three long strides and dropped to his knees beside the hammock.

"Hey," he whispered. "Been looking everywhere."

You couldn’t look at him. "I'm sorry. I just… needed air."

Jake reached out slowly, like he was afraid you’d bolt. His big hand settled over yours, where it cradled the baby’s back. Steady. The way he always was when everything else felt like it was falling apart.

"Talk to me," he said. Voice low, rough from lack of sleep. "What's going on in that head?"

You swallowed. "He's so fragile, Jake. I keep thinking, what if I’m not enough? What if I mess this up? I’m barely more than a girl myself. My mother… she made it look easy. She knew everything. I don't know anything. I'm holding on... barely." You pressed the heel of your palm to the bridge of your nose.

Jake's thumb brushed over your knuckles. He didn't interrupt. Just listened.

"I carried him for months," you went on, voice cracking. "I thought when he came out I'd just… know. Like instinct would take over. But I look at him, and all I feel is terror. What if I fail him? What if the forest takes him because I wasn't strong enough?"

Jake exhaled long and slow. His other hand came up, cupped the back of your neck, and his thumb stroked the base of your neck like he always did.

"I get it," he said quietly. "More than you think."

You finally met his eyes. Blue. Still so human sometimes, even after all this time.

"I came from a place where babies died in hospitals with machines and doctors and every damn thing science could throw at them," he said. "And still they died. My brother, he never got to be a dad. I never thought I would either. Then you. Then this little guy."

He looked down at his son.

"I'm scared too," he admitted. "Every time he cries, I think I’m doing it wrong. Every time he sleeps this long, I check his chest like ten times to make sure he’s still breathing. I’m from Earth, baby girl. I don’t know Na'vi lullabies. I don't know which herbs stop a fever. I'm winging it the same as you."

Your lip trembled. "Then why do you look so calm?"

Jake gave a small, broken laugh. "Because I look at you holding him, and I remember why I stayed. Why I fought. You make me believe we can figure it out. You're his mom. You grew him. You brought him here. That’s not nothing; that’s everything."

You let a sharp intake of air fill your tight lungs. He stared right into your glassy eyes.

"Listen," Jake murmured. "We're going to be scared. Probably for the rest of our lives. But we’re scared together. And I swear to Eywa, to whatever's listening, I'm not going anywhere. We'll learn the hard stuff. We'll probably cry. We'll screw up. But he's got us. Both of us. And that's enough."

He placed both of his hands on your shoulder, more so to ground himself, before taking the both of you in his homely arms.

You closed your eyes. Let the tears fall freely now. Jake pressed a kiss to your temple.

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