ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
LITTLE CLOUD !
Where Neteyam gets accidentally thrown in a rut due to a mysterious flower and all he can think about is you.
ᯓ★ C/W: MDNI, smut, p in v, aphrodisiacs mention, rut/heat terminology, yearning, lots of it, size kink, tummy bulge, olfactophilia, fem!reader, sub space (sorta), gentle dom Neteyam, pussy drunk Neteyam, pet names, creampie
ᯓ★Pairing: Adult!NeteyamxChubby!Human!Reader
ᯓ★Word Count: 4k.
ᯓ★ A/N: Based on this post. This is my first actual smut fic so pls be nice! I hope y’all enjoy!
You heard the decompression chamber activate. The distraction was immediately appreciated, pulling your eyes away from the microscope, the burn from the artificial light finally easing as you pressed the heels of your palms into your sockets, blinking away the stars.
When you turned around, towards the chamber, your eyes took a second to adjust to the harsh white light around you, and you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face when you saw the tall figure looming at the entrance.
Neteyam.
Odd, considering the time. You knew he should be on patrol with Jake and Neytiri.
He stepped forward, into the light. Cuts and bruises marked his face; his breathing was ragged, like he’d run the entire way. Panic settled into your bones; you moved without thinking, medical kit in hand.
“Neteyam, w-what happened?”
Your brows furrowed, setting the kit on the empty desk next to you, your hands quickly reaching out to the taller man, settling on his shoulder, motioning him to sit.
The man winced when your hands met his skin, as if you were made out of lava, and your stomach dropped. He mutters your name, something else too, but you can’t make it out through the blood rushing in your ears, “I’m sorry, what was that? Neteyam? Do you know where you are?” You noticed how his pupils were blown out, the iris almost swallowing the amber color of his eyes.
“I was scouting and…I am sorry, I should not have come here.”
You frowned, shaking your head at his words, “You Skxawng, of course you can come here, there’s a reason you came to me, I know you think I’m the best healer, no need to try and play it off.” You teased even as anxiety filled your every thought, trying to ease the tension.
You used a light pen to check the retraction of his pupils, making sure he didn’t hit his head or anything, but you weren’t able to find any visible wounds, aside from the minor cuts and bruises. He growls when you start to touch his chest, fingers slightly tracing his ribcage, feeling for any sort of fracture. At his growl, you stop, eyes flickering up, meeting his gaze, though you can’t help the warmth from seeping into your cheeks at the intensity of his gaze on you.
“Does that hurt? Did you fall? I can’t feel anything broken, and the cuts on your face are surface-level. Let me call Max so we can get some internal imaging.” You were already going to turn around and call him, but a large, three-digit hand came up to grab at your wrist, keeping you at his side.
You stop.
“It’s not… needed, I am not hurting.. ma tute..” He let go of your hand, balling it into a tight fist. His eyes traced your face, the curve of your cheeks, down to the songcord that hung around your neck, a bright purple bead settled between the valley of your breast, it drew his attention, and you saw how his ears flattened against his skull, shutting his eyes tightly.
You were not amused.
“Neteyam, you need to tell me what’s going on. Why are you acting like I’m made out of Hängrr?” Your brows furrowed as you noted how his breathing picked up; his ears flickered with each of your words. Then you noticed his tail, the way it flickered behind him, twitching, as if it had a mind of its own.
Blown pupils. Restless tail and ears. He was hot- clammy even- irritable.
He licked his lips, swallowing thickly.
Excessive salivation.
It suddenly dawned on you, connecting each dot.
Neteyam wasn’t injured. He was in a rut.
It was textbook Na’vi heat symptoms.
But he was too old to go through random rut cycles, which meant—
You took a little step forward, hesitating. Is that why he was here? Hoping they might have something to counteract the effects?
He knew you’d figured it out; you were much too smart not to connect the dots, and embarrassment was evident in his face; his cheeks were a dark purple. Your chest tightens up, you wish you could help him, you wish you could ease his pain.
He breathed out your name, like a mantra, as if that focused him to the present, “I was scouting, and I ran into a pretty flower, it was purple, I-I thought I could pick it, and you would like it…” His eyes flickered up to meet yours, shy, embarrassed. He knew better, he knew better than to stray from his trail, but the flower was the same color as your welcome bead, the first one you had added to your songcord, the songcord he had taught you how to craft.
Neteyam could all but hear his little brother teasing him; he would never be able to live it down. But right now he was trying to not lose control, he didn’t want to hurt anyone, even less so you, you were so soft, so small… So precious.
“‘Teyam… I think, if my research and diagnosis are correct, you encountered some natural aphrodisiac, a very aggressive strain. It’s making your pressure go up, you probably feel really hot and anxious right now, right?” Your gaze softened at his tight nodding.
This was going to be awkward.
You moved to start closing up the kit, your own cheeks filling with hot blood at the sudden tension that now filled your lab. You both knew what was going on, and for some reason, now you were the one struggling to breathe.
“U-unfortunately, we don’t have any… antidote.. I-I have no idea what kind of flower it was, and even if I did, we would need to collect samples and develop the cure; it could take up to a week—“ Neteyam nodded, his jaw clenching, tight. You could feel the way his eyes almost burned a hole through you.
He was slipping. The longer he was with you, the harder it was to breathe in anything but you. His thoughts were fuzzy; nothing was very clear, but you were right there, the clearest thing he could think of, if he were capable of thinking about anything else.
Neteyam didn’t even know why he’d run to your lab; he didn’t even think you’d still be there. That’s a lie; he knew you always stayed in late, a workaholic of sorts. The moment the toxins entered his system, it was like you were a magnet.
To go a whole week with this feeling, this desire? Eywa help him, he would not make it, he would go insane.
“The only way to actually get rid of the toxins from your system without an antidote would be to… u-uhm… release.” Your high-pitched voice snapped him out of his thoughts, once again focusing on you.
Release.
It was quiet now.
Neteyam noted your awkwardness, the tension around you, how suffocating it felt to be in the small room, the way your eyes couldn’t meet his anymore.
“What might help would be if we bring your temperature down, I just have to…” Still not meeting his eyes, you reached up, carefully hovering over his slightly slumped form. He was leaning against the edge of the desk, and when he saw you trying to help, instinctively, he lowered his frame even more.
Your hands carefully reached up to clear the back of his skull, trying to get a reading of his hypothalamus. You carefully lifted his Kuru at the base.
You clearly weren’t thinking.
The next thing you heard is a hiss, followed by the feeling of his large hands coming up and settling at your hips. They not only rested there, but you could feel the shaky grip he had on you, as if you were made out of porcelain, any wrong move and you’d break. He’d break you.
“Sorry..” You lifted your head a little and were shocked at how close you two were. From his reaction, you had ended up all but pressed up against him, his face hovering only a few centimeters away from yours.
You could feel your heart at your throat, beating at Eywa knows how many miles a minute, you aren’t able to trust your voice, so you just watch the man as he struggles with himself.
“I can’t… I have been denying myself but I don’t think I can for longer.”
You don’t think, your hand moved on its own accord, coming and cupping his cheek. You felt the tension in his muscles, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly, your companion letting out a pained sigh as his head finally dropped at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.
A shudder ran down your spine, eyes widening slightly, blotches of crimson sitting at your cheeks, your eyes fluttered closed, gasping ever so slightly as his cold nose touched the side of your neck.
Was it bravery? Desire? You weren’t sure, but it didn’t stop you from speaking out. Your gentle fingers came up to trace his shoulder and came to rest at the back of his head, “you don’t have to…Deny yourself I mean…” You breathed out, your own breathing now heavy, as if the density of the air itself changed.
It was like a thick fog.
Neteyam’s body stilled completely at your words. And then you felt it.
It was as if he had dropped an anchor. The restraint he so desperately clung to whenever you were around. You could feel it in how his hands moved from your hips and up your waist, the size of his limbs dwarfing your frame.
His breathing picked up, he inhaled deeply, nuzzling the crook of your neck, pressing his nose firmly to your skin. A groan left his lips.
You were thankful he was holding you up, because your legs suddenly felt like jelly.
You could feel the hot puffs of air that left Neteyam’s lips, and you felt dizzy. He held you tightly to his body, a mantra of ‘pum oeyä’ bubbling from his lips, quietly.
He was claiming you as his.
Your hands came down to trace his large biceps, fingers dragging against the rippling muscles, tracing the veins under the skin, he was so warm, his skin was the softest hint of purple from the effects of the toxins. He turned his head slightly, pressing his forehead against the side of your head, his eyes shut, tightly.
“I have been craving you, Ma Sevin. For so long.” He reached back, cupping your supple ass. He groaned at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands, the warmth, the way you molded to him.
He couldn’t help but grip you tighter, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
“Ma’ aungia tipawm… tell me to stop. You should not do this just to help me— you don’t know much I am holding back.” His words made your heart skip a beat, heat pooling behind your navel.
“I don’t want you to stop, it’s okay, Neteyam, I want this… I-I..” Your cheeks feel like they are glowing with how hot they feel, but you manage to beat your shyness, you manage to win over the little voices telling you it would never be you.
“I want you.”
And that’s the moment the eldest Sully snaps.
You blinked, and suddenly you were sitting on the desk he’d been leaning against. He’d turned you two around, your legs hiked up around his hips loosely. One of his hands left your ass and reached up to pull you from the back of your head, fingers burying in your hair, as he guided you towards his mouth.
You could not meet his lips fast enough,
The kiss was hot, needy, wet. It was a kiss that proved to you that all those times you thought you'd seen something, you had. The little gazes through screens, the brushing of your hands when he would help you gather.
His tongue dragged across your lower lip, and immediately you granted access. The hand not in your hair, slipped up to rest at the small of your back, pushing your soft body against the hard planes of his own, you all but mewled at his touch.
He pulled away from the kiss only to move to your neck, rubbing his nose against the soft skin, his pink, hot tongue came out and traced your hammering pulse at the juncture of your neck. When his pointed teeth brushed against the skin, you felt your heart skip a beat, shuddering at the rush.
You heard him laugh softly at your reactions, pulling away. His grip on your hair tightened, lifting your gaze to his. It was like a mirror, the same blown out pupils, the dark flush of your skin, lips bruised and wet. He traced your bottom lip, it was his turn to lose his breath when your tongue came out to meet his finger teasingly.
His grip tightened.
He needed to taste you.
Your hips twitched when you felt his hand trace the hem of your skirt, the fabric ever so slightly pressing against you, highlighting the soft and suppleness of your legs. He slipped between the fabric, strong hand tracing the soft skin of your thighs until he felt the heat radiating from your cunt. He slipped his finger under the fabric of your panties, and traced your slick, you were so wet already. His hips rutted against the desk, desperately pulling on your underwear, tearing the fabric as if it were made out of tissue paper.
You let out a whimper when you see him lower himself to the ground, settling himself between your legs. He didn’t bother to take your skirt off, the way he spread you open had made your pencil skirt ride up, your sex laying bare for him. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh, inhaling deeply, he smelled you, your desire for him, it made him feel borderline drunk, he couldn’t help it, he was salivating the closer he got.
“‘Teyam!” You gasped out when his tongue pressed against your slit, eager to find the little bundle of nerves that nested between your lips. He lapped at your heat, delighted to finally be able to see if you tasted half as sweet as you smelled.
You tasted even better. His nose buried between your folds, his tongue pressing against your opening, rolling his tongue, savoring you. There was nothing in Pandora that could compare.
You couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way his mouth moved against you, his hands firmly placed on your inner thighs, keeping your legs apart, drinking from your core. You felt a familiar warmth pooling just behind your pelvis, mouth agape, soft whimpers and gasps falling from your lips.
He pulled away slightly, his eyes meeting yours as your hands fell to grip at his braids, hips stuttering at the sudden loss of his mouth. His lips, chin and nose shimmered with your slick, and you let out a breathless giggle when he licked his lips, relishing in your taste.
“I don’t think I can ever get enough, Ma’ Paskalin…” you heard him mumble, his own gaze cloudy, he pressed a soft kiss to the little button that made you jump, gasping at the intensity. He chuckled, “you’re so open, so good…”
Your hips rolled against him, shuddering when you felt the tip of his index push against your entrance, a groan left your lips when you felt the digit push into you. Neteyam groaned as he felt your velvety walls clamp around him, the pad of his finger brushing against your spongy walls, making your hips buck in pleasure. “You’re so tight Yawne, are you sure you can take me?”
You mind was spinning from the way he was touching you, the way he softly suckled on the bundle of nerves, slipping a second finger inside you, “you’re taking me so well, I think you can take me… “ He curled his fingers inside you, pushing against the little sponge behind your pelvis, his tongue pressing flat against you.
“‘Teyam, I’m so close.” At your words, he softly grazed his sharp fangs against your core, rubbing his nose against your clit. You saw stars. The heat that had been building behind your navel finally burst. Your eyes rolled back, your whole body twitched, hips stuttering against Neteyam’s mouth, gasping in pleasure as the latter greedily lapped and suckled at your heat, not wasting a single drop of his precious nectar. He purred in approval, his own arousal straining under his titseng, but he could not get enough, his head felt lighter, he wanted you all for himself.
He began to pepper your thighs with soft kisses, smirking against the skin as he watched your body twitch with the aftershock of just how good he’d made you feel.
He relished in the fact he was the only one who got to see you in such a way.
He towered over you, leaning on his forearms, watching you with hazy, darkened amber eyes. The eyes of a predator. You met his gaze, shuddering when he slowly began to undo the buttons of your shirt, his gaze hungrily tracing every inch of skin.
When he finally undid the last button, you watched his ears twitch, sitting alert on the top of his head, his tail flickering behind him. His pupil consumed the iris, a golden ring barely visible as he took his time to admire your nude form.
He lowered himself down, brushing his nose against your collarbone, his lips ghosting over your skin, taking in your scent. His other hand came up to trace your side, thumb ghosting over one of your pebbled nipples, his cock twitching at every little whimper.
“You are beautiful, Paskalin, Ma’ Eywa has truly blessed me today..” He spoke in almost a reverent tone, as if he was praying to you. His lips pressed against your skin, leaving soft kisses against your soft skin, his hand moving to free his arousal from under his titseng. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking on the tender flesh softly. Your head rolled back, your back arching from the desk, hips rolling, seeking him, you could feel your insides ache, begging to be filled once more.
“Please, ‘Teyam…” you beg out, whining, and he doesn’t want to make you wait any longer.
One of his hands reached out and pulled one of your legs over his hip, lifting your ass from the edge of the table, his other hand guided the head of his weeping cock, lining himself up, “do not worry Yawne, I will make you feel good, be good and take it okay?” He whispered breathlessly, the toxins of the flower now clouding his mind, the only thing he was able to think about, was fucking you.
When you felt the head of his cock push against your entrance, finally splitting you open, you nearly sobbed. Neteyam’s grip tightened on your leg as he felt how your walls clamped down on him, sucking him in closer, he let out a shaky groan, head shaking, as if not believing how tight you are.
His forehead rested against yours, the lewd sound of his cock pushing into you loud in comparison to the heavy breathing and little gasps that came from the both of you. When he bottomed out, you felt the tip of his cock kiss at your cervix, a grunt came from the elder Sully, his hips stuttering, holding back the urge to want to pound into your heat.
No, he wanted you to feel every inch, he wanted to mark you as his.
“Are you okay, ma’ aungia tipawm? Talk to me, pretty.”
At his words, you looked up at him, you shook slightly, gasping when his hips rolled ever so slightly against yours, “ ‘m so full… ‘nteyam… it’s so good.” You managed to moan out, earring a grin from the Na’vi man. He was doing his best to stay in control, to not give in, the way you looked at him, with your eyes all big, the little noises that came from you each time he moved, the way your pussy clenched around him.
His hips began to move, each thrust was heaven, you were so unbelievably tight, dripping with slick as he moved, your body adjusting to his size, but it was like you were made for him. He pumped his hips, snapping them against yours, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass, slipping under the fabric of your skirt that sat at your hips, hard enough to bruise, but you could not find any traces of pain, you could only think about the way his cock kissed your cervix with every thrust.
Neteyam’s moans echoed around you, the room filling up with the lewd sounds of wet skin slapping against skin, “so good, so pretty… you’re taking me so well, were you made for me, pretty girl?” The praise made your head spin, feeling the same pressure as before building in your tummy.
You looked up at him, heart skipping a beat as you watched his lips break out into a grin, sharp fangs flashing as he growled with each thrust, feeling himself closer and closer to release. His hand reached up, laying flat on your stomach, and he groaned.
“Fuck, do you feel that? Do you see that pretty girl?” You could barely understand him, the sound of his hips snapping against yours almost leaving you deaf. He grabbed your hand pressing it against your tummy just like he had. You felt your walls fluttering. “Oh my god…” Under your hand, you could feel the push of his cock straining against your stomach when he bottomed out, over and over with every thrust, “you really were made for me, how else would ma’ aungia tipawn be able to take me like this, look.”
He reaches down, hooking his arm around your waist, lifting you up, gravity somehow letting you take him even further. He grinned at you, his blue skin a dark purple hue, coated in a thin layer of sweat, he was close, you could tell by the way his thrusts suddenly became erratic. “Come on, Yawne, give me another one…. I know you can.” He encouraged, his eyes shinning with adoration.
“Mmm— ‘Nteyam- Fuck! Fuck!”
You gasped, letting out a loud moan, your entire body shuddering as your second orgasm hit you like a wild Hammerhead, knocking the wind from your lungs.
Neteyam’s own climax followed yours, you watched his brow furrow, his jaw hanging slack as his hips stuttered, “so pretty, so good.. thank you….thank you…” he whimpered out, shooting his seed impossibly deep inside you. Your hands came up, holding yourself steady as you held on to him, his own arm pulling you close to his hard chest, letting your body milk every last drop of his essence into you.
When he was done, he did not pull out, instead, he dropped his head to press soft kisses to your forehead, down to your lids, cheekbones and finally, a soft kiss to your lips.
He cradled your head in his hand, laying you back down on the desk carefully, “Ma’ Yawnetu are you with me?” His thumb traced your cheek, his gaze softening when you blinked up at him, exhausted, sore, dazed. “Neteyam—-“
He cut you off.
“This was not just because of the flower, Ma’ Sevin. I want you to know that. I long to be with you, to see you, to talk to you, I have for a very long time.” His tone was honest, earnest. You reached up to cup his cheek, tracing the bioluminescent freckles dusted across his face, before you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “I see you, Neteyam.”
He flashed you a grin, eyes sparkling before he buried his face into the crook of your neck, smelling himself on you now, “I see you, Ma’ Aungia Tipawm.”