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growthhyp · 2 days ago

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The Garage Sale V

Days had rolled by, and Aiden and Abe had become the heartthrobs of the college football team. "Dude" and "Bro" had woven themselves into Aiden's vocabulary like threads on a jock's sweat-soaked jersey. Meanwhile, Abe remained the more submissive of the two, his voice still gentle, almost shy in contrast to Aiden's boisterousness. Their shared dorm room looked like a tornado had swept through a sports gear store, with the scent of musky men and the faint hint of victory hanging in the air.

Their days were a whirlwind of practices, games, and stolen moments of passion. Aiden's newfound confidence on the field reflected in his interactions with Abe. They were like two magnets, drawn to each other's magnetic pull. The whispers of the college crowd grew louder, but the couple remained unfazed. The chemistry between them was palpable, a volatile mix of sweat, adrenaline, and desire that seemed to fuel their winning streak.

One evening, as they lay tangled in their mess of a bed, Aiden turned to Abe, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Bro," he said, his voice low and dominant, "we're hitting up that garage sale again tomorrow. Gonna grab some gear for my old coding buddies, Carlos and Tamil."

Abe, his eyes glazing over with the thought of another day spent in the throes of their newfound jock lifestyle, nodded submissively. "Whatever you say, Aiden." He knew that Aiden had a plan, and while he might not fully grasp the intricacies of it, he trusted that it would somehow make their bond even stronger. The scent of sweat and musk filled the room, a testament to their passionate escapades that seemed to only grow more frequent with each passing day.

Aiden lay there, flexing his biceps absently, watching the play of shadows on the ceiling. He thought of Carlos and Tamil, two nerdy figures from his past that seemed so distant now. They were like the forgotten toys of his childhood, relics of a time when he hadn't yet discovered the raw power of his body. But he didn't feel guilty about it. In the dog-eat-dog world of college football, friends like Carlos and Tamil were just… well, they were bros. They didn't need his help to survive; they had their own nerdy ways of getting by. But Aiden knew that deep down, they envied his new life, the one filled with the cheers of adoring fans and the warm embrace of victory.

He felt a strange mix of pity and superiority when he thought of them. They were the kind of guys that would still be playing Dungeons and Dragons in their mom's basement while he was out here, scoring touchdowns and breaking hearts. But even though they were so different, Aiden knew he owed them something.

He rolled over to face Abe, whose chest was rising and falling with the rhythm of deep, contented sleep. Aiden's thoughts drifted to the garage sale, and the plan that had been brewing in the back of his mind. "Gonna show those bros what real power is," he murmured to himself, a smug smile playing on his lips. He knew that bringing them into the fold would be a challenge, but it was one he was more than ready to tackle.

The sudden rise of horniness took Aiden by surprise, his cock swelling against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Abe's, feeling the warmth and softness of his mouth. Abe stirred, a sleepy moan escaping his throat as he wrapped his arms around Aiden's neck, pulling him closer. They kissed passionately, Aiden's hands exploring the contours of Abe's body, tracing the lines of his abs and the swell of his ass.

Aiden's desires grew more urgent, and he sat up, tugging his shirt over his head. "You know what, babe?" he said, his voice thick with need. "Let's show each other just how much we've changed." Abe nodded, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He slid down the bed, his mouth finding Aiden's cock. He took it in eagerly, his cheeks hollowing as he began to suck, his tongue swirling around the head. Aiden's grip tightened on the bedsheets, his hips bucking as pleasure shot through him like electricity. "Fuck, babe," he grunted, his voice gruff. "You're the best."

The air grew thick with the scent of lust as Aiden's breathing quickened. Abe's mouth was a warm, wet heaven, and Aiden couldn't help but thrust deeper. "Take it all, baby," he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Show me how much you love it." Abe's eyes watered, but he didn't stop, his throat working to accommodate Aiden's growing need. The sight of Abe's submission sent waves of desire crashing through Aiden's body. He knew that once he was done with Abe's mouth, he'd claim his ass.

Finally, with a roar of pleasure, Aiden came, filling Abe's mouth with his seed. Abe swallowed it all, his eyes never leaving Aiden's. Then, with a smirk, Aiden flipped him onto his stomach, his hands reaching for the lube they kept stashed under the bed. "My turn to show you who's boss," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr. He slicked his cock, feeling the heat of Abe's ass pressing against him. He took a moment to appreciate the view: Abe's round cheeks, parted to reveal his tight, pink hole.

With one hand firmly on Abe's hip, Aiden guided his cock into him, feeling the initial resistance give way to the warm, welcoming embrace of his body. Abe let out a sharp gasp, his body tensing before he relaxed, allowing Aiden to fill him completely. "That's it," Aiden cooed, his voice thick with pleasure. "Take it all."

They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, Aiden's powerful thrusts setting the pace as Abe's moans grew louder. Aiden felt his climax building, the tension in his balls tightening. "You're gonna make me cum, baby," he grunted. "You're gonna make me fill you up."

And fill him up he did, his hot seed spilling into Abe as they both reached their peak. They lay there, panting, their bodies sticky with sweat and cum. It was a beautiful mess, a testament to their love and lust.

As their breathing evened out, Aiden leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Abe's shoulder. "You ready to show Carlos and Tamil what it's like to be on top?" he asked, his voice still heavy with arousal.

Abe nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Whatever you say, Aiden."

===

Morning had broken with the promise of a scorching day ahead. The sun had barely kissed the horizon as Aiden and Abe, both dressed in tight-fitting athletic gear that highlighted their newfound physiques, made their way to Jack's garage sale. The sight of Jack, still as muscular and mysterious as the first time they met, brought back a flood of memories. His heart raced at the thought of the transformation that awaited his friends.

Jack greeted them with a knowing smile, the same one that had sent a shiver down Aiden's spine months ago. "Back for more, boys?" he asked, his voice a warm rumble that seemed to resonate in Aiden's chest. Aiden stepped forward, his voice filled with the same confidence that now flowed through his veins. "Dude, I've got two more friends who could use a little… upgrade," he said, using air quotes to emphasize his point.

Jack's grin widened, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth that gleamed against his tanned skin. "Ah, spreading the love, I see," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He turned to a rack in the corner of his garage, where a rainbow of socks hung like a bizarre bounty. "Take a look," he said, tossing a few pairs in their direction. "I've got something that'll fit your friends to a T."

The socks looked like any other pair one might find in a gym bag, but Aiden knew better. He picked one up, feeling the warmth emanate from it, as if it were alive. "These will do," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. He tossed the socks to Abe, who caught them with a look of wonder.

Jack nodded, his muscular arms folding over his chest. "Remember, each pair is unique. The transformation will be as random as the day you stepped into my life."

"Cool, man, no worries," Aiden said, his voice now as smooth and self-assured as a seasoned quarterback. "Bros are gonna love 'em."

Jack nodded, his gaze lingering on Aiden's body before he turned to Abe. "You sure you don't want a pair too, bud?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Nah, I'm good, man. These are for my old pals, Carlos and Tamil. They're the brainiacs who could use a little… extra oomph," Aiden said, slapping Abe on the back with a laugh.

Jack nodded, his expression serious. "You're sure?" he asked, his deep voice resonating through the garage. "These socks… they can be life-changing. In more ways than one."

Aiden looked at him with a cocky grin, his confidence brimming. "Yeah, bro, I'm positive. They're gonna thank me for this. And maybe, just maybe, they'll finally get a taste of the kind of life we're living now." Abe nodded in agreement, his eyes wide with excitement and a touch of envy.

Jack leaned against the counter, his massive arms folded over his chest. "I've got a proposition for you, Aiden," he said, his gaze intense. "You've got the charm and the new look to sell these clothes like hotcakes. Why don't you help me spread the word? Maybe turn this into something… big?"

"You mean, like, promote your garage sale?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement. "Dude, I'm in. Let's make this viral."

Jack's smile grew, his eyes lighting up. "Exactly. I've got the goods, you've got the charm. We could turn this into a full-on operation. Think of it as a… life makeover service," he said, winking.

Aiden's mind raced with possibilities. "Yeah, like a secret society for the uncool," he chuckled, his newfound confidence making him bold. "But instead of nerds, we turn 'em into… bros!"

Jack leaned in, his eyes gleaming. "Exactly," he said, his voice a low purr. "And who better to spread the word than the king of the jocks?"

Aiden's heart skipped a beat. He had never considered himself a leader, let alone a life-changing one. But Jack had a point. His transformation had been nothing short of miraculous, and if he could help others find their confidence, why not? "Alright, bro, count me in," he said, his voice firm. "We're gonna turn this place into a nerd-to-stud factory!"

Jack chuckled, his massive chest rumbling with the sound. "Good," he said, his eyes gleaming with a hint of something Aiden couldn't quite pinpoint. "I'll leave the details to you. Just remember, the clothes are the key. And don't be shy about it. Sometimes, a little… persuasion goes a long way."

With a nod, Aiden handed over the cash for the two pairs of socks. They felt heavier in his hand than their size suggested, as if they contained the weight of destiny. Abe watched the transaction, nodding submissively, his eyes never leaving Aiden's face. Aiden couldn't help but feel a pang of something, a mix of affection and power that was both thrilling and slightly disconcerting. He was the one in charge now, the one making the decisions.

"Thanks, Jack," Aiden said, pocketing the receipt. "These are gonna be the best gifts ever."

Jack's smile grew wider, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent garage light. "I know they will," he said, his voice a seductive whisper.

The next day, Aiden and Abe found themselves at the local post office, the two pairs of socks neatly packaged and addressed to their unsuspecting friends. Aiden felt a strange sense of excitement and power as he slapped the shipping labels onto the boxes. He couldn't wait to see the reactions of Carlos and Tamil, to watch as they too were transformed by the magical fabric that had changed his own life so dramatically.

Weeks had past since their last encounter with Jack, and Aiden had thrown himself into his role as the team's star player with reckless abandon. He had become the life of every party, the center of attention, and the envy of every man and woman on campus. His newfound physique and confidence had even earned him the title of 'Mr. Popular', a title that was once as unreachable to him as the stars in the sky.

===

Meanwhile, Carlos, still buried in his fat body, sat in front of his computer screen, his eyes scanning through endless lines of code. The office chair groaned under his weight as he sighed heavily. At 30 years old, he was the epitome of a successful computer nerd, but the shadow of his diabetes loomed over him like a dark cloud. He glanced down at his bulging belly, wishing that he could find the motivation to join a gym and shed his excess weight.

Carlos had always been drawn to Aiden's youthful spirit, even when they had first met online. Back then, Aiden had been just another college kid with a burning passion for coding, asking questions on a random forum. It had been Carlos's quick and knowledgeable responses that had sparked their friendship. And when he had found out Aiden was also gay, it had felt like a sign. He remembered his own college days, the struggle of hiding his true self, and he had vowed to be the mentor he never had.

Don, his loving husband of five years, was a different story. At 32, Don was a construction worker with a heart of gold and a body that defied the odds. Due to his rigorous job, standing tall in the center of a bustling construction site. His tanned, muscular body is a testament to the rigorous physical labor that has sculpted him over the years. Carlos was a fantastic cook, always whipping up delicious, comforting meals after a hard day's work. The scent of Carlos' favorite carne asada wafted through the apartment, making it almost impossible for him to resist the temptation of seconds and thirds which fueled his muscles after a hard day work.

Their dynamic was clear as day; Don was the dominant one, the top in their relationship. He was strong, both in body and spirit, and Carlos loved him for it. Don's gruffness was a stark contrast to Carlos's gentle nature, but it was that very contrast that made them work so well together. They had met during the construction of the new programming offices, where Carlos had been the brains behind the digital layout, and Don had been the brawn that brought it to life. It was love at first sight, or at least it was for Carlos. Don had taken a little longer to warm up to the idea of a programmer being his other half, but the way Carlos could make a computer sing had eventually won him over.

Their marriage had been a whirlwind, full of love and laughter. They had faced their share of challenges, of course. There were the stares and whispers from those who didn't understand their love, the family members who had taken years to accept them, and the never-ending battle against the stereotypes that painted them as an odd couple. But they had persevered, their love growing stronger with each hurdle they overcame. They had made a home filled with warmth and acceptance, a place where they could truly be themselves without fear of judgment.

One afternoon, as the sun painted the sky with a palette of oranges and pinks, Carlos pulled into their driveway, feeling the familiar ache in his body from another long day of coding. He stepped out of the car and noticed a package sitting on the welcome mat. Curiosity piqued, he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. The return address was unfamiliar, but the excitement that bubbled in his chest was undeniable. He couldn't remember ordering anything, but that was hardly unusual given his penchant for online shopping.

With the box tucked under his arm, he shuffled into the house, his heart fluttering like a schoolboy's on prom night. The scent of home hit him like a warm embrace - the faint aroma of old textbooks, the lingering scent of Don's cologne, and the ever-present smell of electronics. He tossed the box onto the couch and began his usual routine of changing out of his work clothes, trading his stiff business attire for a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. His phone buzzed with a notification from Don, the screen lighting up with a message that said he'd be working late.

Carlos sighed, feeling the weight of loneliness settle in his chest. He glanced at the box, his curiosity growing. He tore open the packaging, revealing a pair of vibrant blue athletic socks. They were snug, designed for athletes, not for someone who hadn't seen the inside of a gym in years. He held them up, the soft fabric whispering against his fingertips. A note fluttered to the floor, and he read it with a furrowed brow: "Thank you for everything - Aiden."

Aiden? Why would Aiden send him socks? The last he heard, Aiden had disappeared from their coding group chat without a trace. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine. Had something happened to his friend?

But then he got a private chat from Aiden. The message was simple enough, but the content was… unexpected.

Aiden: Hey Carlos, hope you got my little gift.

Carlos stared at his phone, the screen glowing in the dim light of his office. The message was like a beacon of hope in the sea of code that had become his life. His heart skipped a beat. Aiden was alive, and apparently, into giving away random pairs of socks.

Carlos: Aiden! Oh my god, yes, I got the socks. They're… uh… very… blue. But why socks, man? We were worried about you.

He felt a bit like a teenage girl receiving a mysterious note from her crush, his thumbs hovering over the screen, waiting for the response.

Aiden: Haha, chill bro. Just thought you'd dig 'em. Football's been my jam lately. Crazy, right?

The revelation was indeed crazy. Aiden, the guy who used to live and breathe code, had turned into a jock? It was like finding out your favorite sci-fi writer had switched to romance novels.

Carlos: Seriously? Football? Since when did you start playing sports? Last I checked, you couldn't even do a push-up.

He couldn't hide the shock, but there was also a hint of concern. Aiden had always been the kind of person who liked his comfort zone, and this was a leap into the stratosphere.

Aiden: Oh, you know, bro. Life's full of surprises. Anyway, gotta bounce. The party's starting. Will hit you up later, okay? Tell Tamil I'm cool. And, by the way, make sure to rock those socks today. Let me know how they work out for ya.

Carlos nodded, even though Aiden couldn't see him. The conversation was strange, but at least Aiden was okay. And apparently, he was now into sports. Weird.

He turned his thoughts to Tamil, their third musketeer. Tamil, a man of intellect and wit, was the heart of their coding trio. His brain was a supercomputer, his fingers a blur over the keyboard. At 35, he had the body of a man who had never stepped foot inside a gym, his 300lbs frame a testament to his love for fast food and lack of physical activity. Despite his unassuming exterior, Tamil was a genius, his mind a maze of algorithms and coding languages that even the most seasoned hackers would find intimidating.

Their bond had grown strong over the years, especially since Tamil had met and married the love of his life, Kamala. A beautiful woman with a heart as vast as the universe, she had been the one constant in Tamil's life, the one who had accepted him for who he was despite his inability to give her the one thing she wanted most: a child. They had found joy in their travels, exploring the globe with the money their successful careers afforded them.

Carlos typed out a quick message to Tamil, his fingers flying over the keyboard with the agility that had once made him a coding legend. "Tamil, you're not gonna believe this. Aiden hit me up and sent me some weird socks. Says he's into football now." He hit send, and the message shot off into the digital ether, leaving him with a sense of unease.

With the house clean and the aroma of simmering chili filling the air, Carlos decided to take a break. The shower washed away the sweat and stress of the day, the hot water pummeling his body like a masseuse's skilled hands. He stepped out, feeling rejuvenated, and pulled on the t-shirt that clung to his curves like a loving embrace. The pajama pants were next, swaddling him in comfort as he made his way to the bedroom.

The bed looked like a cloud, inviting him to sink into its plush embrace. He grabbed the remote and turned on Netflix, scrolling through the endless sea of content. But as he settled in, his eyes fell upon the box of socks again. With a shrug, he decided to give them a try. They were indeed too large for his feet, but as he slid them on, they felt surprisingly comfortable, almost like a warm hand holding his ankles.

He laid back and let the cool air of the AC wash over him, but the comfort was short-lived. A strange sensation began to creep up from his toes, a warmth that was unmistakable. He glanced down, his eyes widening in shock as the blue fabric of the socks began to stretch and conform to his swelling feet. The heat grew, spreading up his legs like wildfire, and suddenly, he could feel his calves bulging, the fat melting away to reveal muscles that hadn't seen the light of day.

The transformation was relentless, marching upwards like a tide that wouldn't be held back. His thighs grew thick with power, the fabric of his pajamas straining against the unyielding pressure. He watched in amazement as his legs began to resemble the Greek statues he had admired during a trip to the museum with Don. The muscles grew more defined, each one a work of art that rippled and flexed with every movement.

The heat grew more intense as it reached his stomach. He could feel his fat cells screaming in protest as they were consumed by the fiery transformation. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his heart racing like it was about to burst from his chest. His shirt felt like it was made of lead, so he peeled it off, gasping at the sight of his new abs, the beginnings of an eight-pack poking through the sheen of perspiration. It was as if he was watching someone else's body, not his own.

The transformation continued upwards, his shoulders broadening and his back muscles expanding like wings unfurling. He reached behind to feel the new contours, his fingers tracing the powerful landscape of his new physique. It was a surreal, almost out-of-body experience. His skin tingled as his body rewrote its own destiny, sculpted by the very fabric of the socks that clung to him like a second skin.

His t-shirt was now a prison, stretched to the limits of its fabric. The seams groaned in protest as his chest grew, his pecs swelling like boulders and his abs tightening into a washboard. The warmth spread to his arms, and he watched as his biceps bulged, veins popping out like rivers on a map. The transformation was a symphony of sensations, a mix of pain and pleasure that had him gasping for air. His forearms thickened, his fingers lengthening slightly, each digit now wrapped in a layer of power that he hadn't known existed.

The room was a haze of heat, his breaths coming in ragged pants. The socks were like a living entity, molding him into a new form.

As the warmth climbed his neck, his face felt as if it was being reshaped by an invisible sculptor. His cheekbones grew more defined, his nose more aquiline, and his jaw squared off into a sharp, dominant line. His eyes grew wider, a blue so bright it seemed almost unnatural, and his teeth… oh, his teeth, they were straight and white, gleaming like polished marble.

Carlos felt his personality shift, a newfound confidence coursing through his mind like a river after a storm. The shy, insecure nerd he had been moments ago was now a distant memory. He strutted over to the mirror, flexing his new biceps, watching the way they bulged and danced with power. The cockiness grew with each flex, a sense of dominance filling him like a warm cup of coffee on a cold morning.

The thoughts in his head were no longer of coding algorithms and video games; they were of muscular men, their eyes wide with a mix of lust and submission. He pictured them on their knees, begging for his touch, his guidance. The images grew clearer, more vivid, and the heat between his legs grew with each passing second. The socks had not only transformed his body but had also rewritten the very essence of who he was, turning him into the top he never knew he could be.

The warmth grew more intense, focusing on his cock, which began to swell like a balloon filling with helium. He felt the fabric of his pajamas strain against the obscene girth, the seams popping like a string of fireworks. The bulge grew so large that his pajamas couldn't contain it anymore, tearing away to reveal his blue briefs. The head of his cock pushed against the elastic band, the fabric straining to hold back the tide of his newfound power.

Carlos was in a daze, his hand moving almost of its own accord to cup the heavy, thick shaft. The sensation was overwhelming, his new body demanding attention, and his mind a whirlwind of confusion and desire. He slid his hand inside the waistband, his palm fitting around the base of his cock like it was made just for that purpose. He began to stroke, the sensation of his own hand against the velvety skin sending waves of pleasure through his body. The transformation had not just given him the body of a muscular man; it had also unlocked a deep, primal urge that had been buried deep within.

As he stroked himself, his thoughts drifted to Don. The way his eyes used to light up when Carlos would cook his favorite meal, the gentle way he'd caress his stomach before they'd make love. But now, those thoughts took a darker turn. He saw himself not as the submissive partner he had always been but as the dominant force, the one in control. His hand moved faster, his strokes becoming more vigorous as he pictured Don beneath him, eyes wide with shock and lust as he took charge in the bedroom. The room grew hotter, the air thick with the scent of his arousal.

His cock grew so hard it was almost painful, the veins pulsing with the intensity of his desire. He could feel the testosterone flooding his system, turning him into a creature of pure, unbridled lust. The need to claim, to conquer, washed over him like a wave, and he knew he had to act on it. He couldn't wait for Don to come home; he needed to feel that power now. The socks had not only changed his body but had also unlocked a primal instinct that had been buried under layers of shyness and inadequacy.

With a final, powerful stroke, Carlos let out a roar that echoed through the house. The cum shot from his cock like a geyser, painting the walls with ropes of white hot pleasure. It splattered against the ceiling, leaving a Jackson Pollock-esque masterpiece of desire. The force of his orgasm was so intense that the cum continued to flow, creating a river that pooled on his chest and abs, then trickled down his sides to form a puddle on the bedroom floor.

As the last drops fell from him, exhaustion set in. His body, so used to sloth and inactivity, was now a battlefield of sensation, and it demanded rest. His eyelids grew heavy, the weight of his transformation pressing down on him like a warm, comforting blanket. He stumbled back to the bed, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him, and collapsed onto the cool, inviting mattress. The smell of sex and sweat mingled with the fading aroma of chili, a potent reminder of the power that now surged through his veins.

#muscle growth stories #jockification #personality change #male transformation #jock tf #nerd to jock #ai generated

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wheneclipsefalls · 11 months ago

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Ma Neteyam pt. 15

Pairing: Aged up Omega Neteyam x Alpha Male OC

Masterlist I Ma Neteyam Chapters I AO3

Warnings: swearings, violence, angst, trauma, oldest sibling syndrome, omegaverse, abo, power imbalance, dom/sub dynamics, stockholm syndrome, sexual content, etc.

Summary: It is time for Neteyam to face the music, or in this case, face Eywa.

A/N: This may have taken forever but I couldn't be more excited to finally post this! Thank you all for hanging in there. Let me know what you think<3

Neteyam idly ran his thumb over the curved carvings along the bow. It was pristine, beautifully mesmerizing with the hand carved designs running up and down the wood smoothly. He couldn’t have carved one better himself. His own bow back with the Omatikaya still had scratchings from his early teenage years where he hadn’t learned the art of wielding a knife carefully.

“I’m afraid I’ve been slightly negligent with courting gifts and this one took much longer than anticipated.” Kxolo admitted, watching Neteyam diligently as the boy observed the gift. “Hopefully it is up to your standards, my love.” Hints of a fond smile were laced with the slightest flinch of nerves.

“It’s beautiful.” Neteyam breathed.

It was everything and more that the omega could have hoped for in a courting gift. The type of gift that he had spent far too many nights dreaming about alone in his hammock to one day receive from a handsome alpha such as Kxolo. It was moments like these that he found it terrifyingly difficult to not pretend their situation was normal. To pretend that Kxolo was simply another alpha who had strolled in and stole his heart through charm and traditional courting.

And yet, that couldn’t be the case, because this bow symbolized more than love or desire to court. It showed that the Olo’eyktan was now officially trusting him with weapons. Were it a traditional courting such a trust would never need to be forged again.There never would have been a doubt in the first place that he would keep violence directed away from his lover.

Neteyam wished that this realization alone would have been enough to keep affection from spreading over his heart as he marveled at the tender care and effort that was put into the gift. It was disorienting and borderline painful that such conflicting emotions managed to cohabit his mind and heart.

“It’s a start.” Kxolo corrected. “You like it then?”

“I love it.”

“So then what is wrong?”

Neteyam could feel the radiating body heat coming from his mate as he shuffled to sit behind him, wrapping those muscular arms securely around his waist. Soothing pheromones came in gentle waves towards him, breathing in the musky scent that he knew only as Kxolo. It was no longer a thought that instigated his body’s reaction to his alpha’s face rubbing along his neck. Every reaction had become instinctual and impossibly difficult to go against.

That is if he wanted to.

Did he want to?

Silence hung as a heavy answer, enough to have Kxolo pressing further.

“Of course, I do not expect you to leave behind your Omatikaya bow. Perhaps I can send a good word over to your family and arrange for it to be brought over soon.”

The thought was almost laughable, especially with their reluctance to speak on the current trip Tamil was making over to the Omatikaya clan today. Neteyam didn’t need verbal confirmation to know that sending Tamil over specifically had been a strategic choice. And an even more strategic choice to keep Kxolo at home, far enough out of the range of his father's axe.

Neteyam could already feel the knot in his stomach tightening as he imagined the news being broken to his father. Neteyam had presented…and Kxolo had not stayed away. The only bright side Tamil could possibly present is still the lack of a mating bond. Even with Tamil’s calm countenance and measured words, it would not be enough to keep Jake from flying off the handle.

Would it be enough to have his father, Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya clan, breaking peace in order to storm the village and rescue his son? Kxolo seemed convinced that it would not come to that, but the alpha always had a way of finding confidence in situations that Neteyam himself could not fathom.

“No need…this one will do more than fine.”

“I would be more than happy to take you out hunting, baby boy.” Kxolo paused, head swaying from side to side as he internally deliberated his next words. “Although I do recall your father once telling me that you often insist upon hunting alone at times, against his best wishes. Promise to be careful and I may be inclined to do so upon occasion.”

Neteyam was nodding before the words had fully left his mouth. Promises of safety and caution rained from his lips and luckily Kxolo took them in stride with a chuckle and sweet peppered kisses.

A viperwolf scattered along an overhead branch but Neteyam ignored it. A perfect hunting target and yet this newly crafted bow had only served as decoration thus far. He couldn’t even bring himself to load an arrow. Kxolo had left him alone to hunt at his leisure with an implied promise of bringing back a less solemn Neteyam. However, Neteyam knew where he needed to go-what he had to do.

Every step on the path towards Vitraya Ramunong [Tree of Souls] felt weighted, the thumping sound ringing in his ears. He walked as if he could crumble under the true pressure of this impending moment, this occasion that could change his life. Neteyam was not one to underestimate the influence of Eywa’s conclusions. Amid his time here, however, the idea that Eywa was simply used as an excuse for this kidnapping had rooted itself deep into his mind. Never had he questioned her decisions because it had been obvious she played no real part in his current circumstance.

That idea had increasingly become harder to hold onto and although a part of him didn’t want to know the truth, it was the right thing to do. His parents could only be held at bay for so long and Neteyam needed to know whether or not this mating would truly be worth going against them.

A mating that strong could only be one fated by Eywa.

And yet when the shimmering vines came into view Neteyam could only feel a strong urge to bolt in the opposite direction. Perhaps there would still be time to get some hunting in after all.

He pushed the temptation aside and reminded himself that this was his responsibility. Framing tasks like that always made them easier to beckon because that was a concept he fully understood, one he was used to following ever since he was a small boy.

The Tree of Souls was everything beautiful and more.

How had he managed to stay away for so long?

Neteyam carefully lowered himself to his knees amongst the glowing roots. His bow was placed to the side and the omega spent more time than necessary putting it in the right place and fidgeting with his clothing. He even took time to bat away every stray hair sticking out from his braids.

His throat constricted, feeling as if he had swallowed a yovo fruit whole as he reached behind to grasp his kuru. The braid was heavy in his hand as he brought it over his shoulder. The tendrils danced and waved in the breeze without care but even the thought of connecting it to a vine made his stomach flip.

There was no turning back from this.

No matter the outcome he would no longer be able to sit idly in this gray area.

Fight his parents or fight the man who had captured his heart?

The dam broke. The last shreds of resistance keeping his emotions at bay burst at the seams and Neteyam could no longer fight the rising sob. The world mixed into a blurry mess as large tears invaded his vision without reprieve. HIs lungs contracted and ached until the only sound in this oasis was his garbled sobs.

It was complicated. Complicated and messy.

There was simply no path that would be without heartbreak and trials. However there was more than struggle that awaited him, something deeper that raked his trepidation higher.

Guilt.

Guilty for not trying hard enough to get home.

Guilty for pushing away a fated mate.

Guilty for waiting so long to seek the truth.

Surely even Eywa herself would look down upon his actions because Neteyam was raised better than this. He was the son of Toruk Makto, a Sky Person turned Na’vi legend. He was the son of Neytiri Te Tskaha Mo’at’ite who was only a young woman when she lost her sister and took her place in the clan only to then lose her father, home, and future role as Tsahik in one day. Neither had shirked away from the destiny Eywa had handed them. They had risen above their own expectations and became the people they were truly meant to be.

They took world shattering news in stride before jumping into action and now Neteyam couldn’t even get himself to communicate with the Great Mother.

This was not who he was supposed to be. Omega or not, Neteyam had always known he held the mantle among his siblings. What example was he setting for them?

The omega’s small hands covered his face in despair, foolishly hoping to hide his face from Eywa’s all-seeing eyes.

“Neteyam?”

His sobbing choked into a garbled mess in his throat as he desperately wiped at his tear streaked face. It took several swipes for him to recognize Tamil’s figure in the distance.

He was back already?

How long had he sat there crying like a child?

“I-I’m sorry. I was just about t-to get back. Lost track of time.” Neteyam tried to dart to his feet but Tamil stopped him with a calm hand.

“Mawey Neteyam. Stay.” Tamil’s voice purred forward with such tenderness and sincerity, Neteyam couldn’t help but relax back on his knees. Calming alpha pheromones radiated from him and although they smelt like stale dirt compared to Kxolo’s, the omega felt his muscles release tension.

It was only when a small gargle sounded that Neteyam finally noticed the squirming baby in Tamil’s arms. The small child flopped to and fro as the alpha slowly sat across from him. Her eyes were the size of moons as they glistened in the glowing lights, chubby hands already reaching towards any vine she saw.

Neteyam couldn’t pin down why if his life depended on it, but the sight of her made whatever resolve he had scrambled together break once more. The sobbing returned and no amount of self discipline could keep back is undignified crying.

Tamil placed a comforting hand on the omega’s shoulder as he cried.

The alpha didn’t speak. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t even urge the boy to calm his crying.

He simply waited.

Tamil’s daughter simply watched on with curious eyes. Once the crying had become old news, she started to reach for some of Neteyam’s loose braids. A pout quickly formed on her lips when her father pulled her back from tugging on them.

“Do you want to hold her?” Tamil asked softly.

Neteyam nodded frantically, unsure of why he craved to hold the small child so badly. Tamil handed her over with such gentle care, Neteyam felt as if he was carrying the rarest jewel as he placed her on his lap.

Although he tried to keep her neatly upright on his lap, she seemed to have other ideas. She could barely crawl but what she lacked in leg strength she made up for in her strategic scooting over his legs. Little huffs left her lips as she dug her nails in his legs and pulled herself forward. Those golden eyes never strayed from his swinging braids. She had a goal.

“What is her name?” He whispered, voice heavy.

“Vili.”

Finally her stubby fingers latched onto a braid and a delighted giggle escaped her as she tugged on it. Neteyam winced slightly but a surprised laugh replaced his sobs this time. Tears still rolled down his cheek but there was now something else to focus on. Her small body strained as she went for a specific blue bead in his hair.

“Apologies, hair is her current fixation. It is only by Eywa’s mercy that I am not already bald.” Tamil informed but there was anything but ire present in his tone. He laughed and tried to detach her vice-like grip from Neteyam’s braids.

“It is fine.” Neteyam barely managed to get out, other hands softly stroking her thin curls. The touch snagged her attention, doe eyes looking up at him suddenly. When he repeated the action, Vili leaned into the touch clumsily. She released the hold on his braids and suddenly she was slumping against his chest, snuggling close.

Another wave of emotion washed over him as he held the small baby close.

“You are troubled.”

“I…I was only…”

“It is fine, Neteyam. I would be concerned were you not.”

Surprise flickered through him, eyes snapping up to meet Tamil’s.

“I do not envy your position.” The alpha clarified, pulling Vili’s thumb from her mouth.

It felt silly to be surprised by the statement but there were days where it seemed everyone took the kidnapping situation in stride,seeing it as simply a small hurdle for the new couple. Kxolo always kept a strong face, reluctant to let on his own concerns about the tension with the Omatikaya clan.

“They are going to hate me.” Neteyam was startled to find what originated as a simple thought come out in whispered form, but since it was out, the words wouldn’t stop. “I was supposed to be finding a way to get out of here and yet all I have done is fail. No worse, I have gone against everything my parents have taught me and allowed myself to fall for the psycho that kidnapped me. I go to stop and back track….but then….I can’t. I’ve….I’ve betrayed my parents, my siblings, my clan! I’ve given over my own purity and now my parents will hate me. I am not the firstborn they deserve!”

Tears slipped down his cheeks so fast they began to drop on Vili’s head. Her nose scrunched in confusion before patting at her own head.

Sharp teeth sunk into his bottom lips as he tried to hold back more disgraceful sobs. Although he was on the verge of breaking into a million pieces, there was satisfaction in having the words said out loud. As if they were something he no longer had to hold on his own. They were shared.

Not daring to glance up at the alpha, Neteyam let the silence stretch between them.

“Vili had trouble breathing when she was first born.”

Neteyam quirked his eyes up finally.

“Those were longest two minutes of my life. When she did start breathing normally I would refuse to take my hand off her chest. I fell asleep to the rise and fall of her chest. I say with no exaggeration, it was the most terrifying day of my life.” Their eyes connected, a seriousness falling over them.

“And without a doubt the greatest day I shall ever know. I thank the Great Mother for her every night.”

The tension slipped and Neteyam found himself smiling down at Vili who wouldn’t stop kicking her legs at his arm.

“I do not expect you to understand, Neteyam.”

Neteyam brows furrowed.

“Only a parent can truly comprehend what it means to love someone unconditionally in the way we love our children. But hear my words when I tell you there is not a single thing that my daughter could do to make me love her a morsel less. That will never change.”

Neteyam gulped down the lump in his throat. Vili had found a new interest in the omega’s stomach, gummy mouth chomping down painlessly on his lower stomach.

“Your parents love you. If I didn’t know it before I surely know it after today.”

Neteyam perked up, hands already shaky in anticipation.

“What happened? Were they upset?”

“Naturally, but you need not over concern yourself. That is not my point.” Tamil, pursed his lips, lost in thought for a moment.

“Your parents love you and will continue to love you no matter what you do. You need not do anything to earn that love.”

The words turned over in his head on repeat.

“But will they forgive me?” He whispered after a long pause, barely more than a breath.

“That assumes you have done something wrong.”

“Haven’t I?”

“Only one being can answer that.” He responded, ever so gently removing Vili from his lap.

The Tree of Souls had never burned brighter, etching its presence into Neteyam’s consciousness until it could no longer be ignored. Biting his lower lip, the omega casted his eyes upwards as the sacred seeds cascaded down flawlessly.

“And if I don’t want to know?”

Already on his feet with Vili situated on his hip, Tamil paused and smiled warmly down at him.

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

And with that, Tamil silently began to walk away. Before leaving however, he turned once more.

“Neteyam.” He called, causing the omega’s attention to turn. “I see you.”

Emotion gripped at his heart as he quietly whispered the same back. Tamil smiled but left without delay.

Echoes of the forest surrounded him in a gentle ambience. Subconsciously, Neteyam thumbed at the designs along his new bow.

It was time.

Afraid his nerve would be fleeting, Neteyam hastily threw his kuru back over his shoulder and let the tendrils connect to the nearest vine.

He cleared his throat, expecting to follow his usual routine of addressing Eywa, but a light blinded him before there was a chance. The words were caught in his throat and the forest scenery melted away before his eyes. Panic went to a find a grip but then something new washed over him.

Peace flowed through him in ripples, the same pulsations of an active Tree of Souls. It thrummed through his veins in perfect time with his heart. Only blinding light could be seen but Neteyam was calm. More calm than he had been in years. A peace that he could only vaguely remember experiencing in early childhood.

Eywa’s love wrapped around him in the same way his own mother had held him close as a babe. There was no judgment, no retribution; just love. His worries took the back burner as he settled into the feeling, no longer letting his brain overwork itself to understand the situation. He accepted the light, accepted the peace, and opened himself up like a flower does to the sun.

Slowly his vision began to recover, revealing the familiar forest before him. However, this time Neteyam found himself no longer underneath the glow of glimmering vines. Slightly startled and confused, he took in his surroundings rapidly whipping his head back and forth. His gaze snagged on Kxolo’s form and although it was surprising to see him there, Neteyam couldn’t help but feel relieved.

“Sempu! He broke my bow!” A small girl bursted through the trees holding a piece of thin wood. She darted to Kxolo without hesitation, flinging her small body at his calf to cling to.

Neteyam blinked, heart racketing in his rib cage as he witnessed the events.

He expected Kxolo to be surprised, perhaps point the small girl in the direction of her real father and comfort her along the way but there was not a flicker of hesitation in his features. Instead, Kxolo let out a long sigh and fought back what appeared to be an amused smile.

“Alright alright, mawey, sweet girl.” He easily positioned her on his hip and the small child instantly tucked her face into his neck and sobbed. She was not easily consoled, despite his efforts to pry an explanation out of her. “Come now, show it to me.”

Finally the girl reared back to look up at Kxolo. Neteyam he had never seen a more perfected pouty face in his whole life. Her eyes were filled with tears and small lips so expertly set the omega was sure this particular expression was a familiar one to her. Kxolo, however, visibly softened upon seeing her distress.

He examined the small strip of wood with the other hand before smiling.

“It is not broken, my love. Simply needs some mending.” His voice soothed over her but the result didn”t last long.

“I told you!” Another child bolted from the treeline, this one at least a foot taller than her. The boy pointed an accusing finger at her. “She is always tattling on me but I didn’t even do it because it not even broken and-”

“Mawey mawey.” Kxolo reassured but that stern steel laced his voice.

“But sempu, she is always trying to get me in trouble!”

“I am not!” The girl wailed, tears coming back at full force.

“You crybaby!”

Neteyam jumped in surprise because that was not a Na’vi term, in fact it wasn’t Na’vi at all. The young boy had switched to English and to further his shock the tiny girl appeared to understand him perfectly as she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Stop it.” Kxolo accentuated each word with a pointed look.

Although it had a unique accent coating the sounds, there was no mistaking the truth. Kxolo was speaking English. Brows furrowing, Neteyam found it hard to compute the new information. It had become clear that this scene had to be in the future at some point but how? When?

“Now now no more of that.” Kxolo spoke again in Na’vi as he swiped away the girl’s tears.

“I want Mommy!” She cried out in English, already trying to find a way out of Kxolo’s arms. The boy on the other hand seemed to have already moved on with a simple eye roll before jetting past the Olo’eyktan. Kxolo caught him before he could slip away, hand gently holding him by the arm. The boy huffed and yanked back with all of his force but it was no match for his alpha father.

Neteyam felt guilty admitting it, but he was tempted to laugh at the scene before him. Both children trying to pull away and run off to get into trouble while Kxolo simply held them tight and patiently led them towards the lake’s edge.

“But then I hits em with a jet pack.”

Neteyam looked close to see which child had spoken but neither had stopped their whining for a second. Instead his ears twitched as he heard a different voice coming from the treeline, a strangely familiar one.

“That is not how a jet pack works, paskalin.”

It was a bizarre thing to hear his own voice out in the open air, different from the way it sounds in his head, however nothing could prepare him for seeing a clone of himself emerging from the trees. Exactly like him in every way but this time there were two children attached to his side, one in his arms while the other got a free ride by wrapping around his leg. Looking close he could see the difference in age slightly, along with a few new ornaments in his hair but there was no denying the resemblance.

It was him.

“Okays but mine specials.” The small boy cling to his leg urgently claimed.

“Of course, baby.” He heard himself respond, now switching over to Na’vi. In his arms was another small child but this one had to be barely old enough to talk, thumb in his mouth while that small tail tried to wrap around Neteyam’s arm.

“Daddy!” The tiny boy abandoned him to run over to Kxolo, thrusting a stick with a few feathers up towards him aggressively. “Look whats I mades.”

“Wow! That is fantastic.” The last word in English was barely discernible, the Olo’eyktan struggling more with this one in particular. Kxolo eyes shot to Neteyams and he saw himself shoot the alpha a small smile in approval.

“I knows.” The tiny boy agreed, already confident that this fact could be nothing but the simplest truth.

Kxolo didn’t have a free hand to commend the boy so his tail wrapped around him instead. A fit of giggle burst from the boy as the tuff of Kxolo’s tail tickled at his cheek. It appeared to be just the distraction needed as the Olo’eyktan was finally able to turn and face Neteyam with a grin.

“Yawntutsyip.” He greeted with a smirk but the small girl was already reaching for Neteyam.

“Mommy! My bow!” She whined, thrusting the piece out. Neteyam offered a few words of comfort before awkwardly taking the bow and managing to still keep a hold of the baby in his arms. It took less than a minute to slot the string back into place and hand it back. The tears stopped instantly.

“Time to bathe.” Kxolo purred but outrage broke loose. The older boy in his grip groaned and went to dart away causing him to set down his daughter so he could use both hands to bring him back. The girl took this opportunity to run over to Neteyam and cling to his leg, promises of never bathing again falling from her lips.

Meanwhile the smallest boy had already left behind his art and was sprinting straight towards the lake. Neteyam’s own heart lurched for a second in panic when those stubby legs hit the water’s edge but to his relief it appeared the boy was quite the swimmer. Future him seemed to know this too as he focused his efforts on swaying his daughter to get in.

Kxolo and their son were the last ones to get in. The Olo’eyktan had the older boy tucked under his arm, his legs dangling to the side as he pouted. Once his father had placed him in the water he went to make another break for it but Kxolo was already three steps ahead of him, shuffling back and forth to barricade the exit.

The smallest boy giggled as he watched his older brother and father interact.

“My turns! Catch me Daddy!” He shrieked before going to run away. The tiny boy ran straight into his older brother and bounced backwards into the water immediately. He surfaced with laughter and to Kxolo’s luck his older son had finally given up playing this back and forth game.

The Olo’eyktan chased his younger son through the rippling lake for several minutes until the tiny boy had to climb onto a rock for a rest.

It seemed that harmony had finally been struck as the kids giggled and chased each other through the lake. Kxolo took their smallest child and placed him into a makeshift leaf wrap by the lake, just enough water trickling in to allow the toddler to splash and play.

Even from a distance Neteyam could easily see the way Kxolo’s eyes scanned over his future self, hands quickly coming to follow the curve of the omega’s back.

Neteyam glared back at him playfully, tail swatting at his arm. The Olo’eyktan was neither swayed nor put out by the response. In fact, his smirks tipped upwards as he finally yanked his omega into his arms at last.

“And you question how we got so many children.” Neteyam said.

“I don’t recall you complaining last night, omega.” Kxolo whispered against his neck. Even watching the interaction Neteyam could feel his own body shiver with anticipation. His future self seemed to share the sentiment as he blushed. This time, however, that blush was not followed by shying away or trying to hide it but rather giving his mate a playful smile and reaching to connect their lips.

Kxolo cupped each side of his face tenderly, soaking in every swipe of their lips together like it was the last breath he would be allowed to take.

A glimmer of teeth shone through as neither was quite able to hide their smiles in the kiss. Even Neteyam’s tail lazily swayed back and forth in delight. There was not a hint of tension or stress present in his countenance. Neteyam’s hands hooked underneath the Olo’eyktan’s battle band for grip before rising up onto his toes. Kxolo’s responding laugh was more visual than audible.

“Ewww! Dad!” The oldest son groaned, nose scrunching up in disgust. Their daughter on the other hand began to giggle and sashay her way towards them, eyes wide and intent. When their son went to protest once more, Kxolo playfully splashed back at him and that was enough to start a full blown attack from the children.

Chubby little hands swatted at the water earnestly, hoping that their combined forces would be enough to take down their parents. When Kxolo’s head snapped in their direction they scattered, already anticipating his retribution. With a mighty roar he dramatically charged after them, gathering them up in his arms easily as they shrieked in delight.

The forest colors became saturated until light was blurring around him in every direction. That beam took him once more and Neteyam could no longer see the young family in the lake.

When Neteyam opened his eyes they struggled to make sense of the visual before him. Sparkling vines swung from overhead, bathing him in their glow. Limbs heavy and head pulsing, the omega finally realized he was now laying on his back underneath the Tree of Souls once more.

To say it was disorienting to come back to reality would be an understatement. His mind felt like it was suspended between two different times, the present and future. The real shock, however, was the deep aching in his bones as he realized this future had not occurred. At least not yet.

But that path would only form if he decided to accept a mating with Kxolo. Everything in that vision was nothing but an idea, one given by Eywa, but still just a speck of what could be.

However, there was one fact that still remained in the present.

One that was true and had been true for a while now.

He loved Kxolo.

He was in love with Kxolo.

No other person ran through his mind on cycle. No other person made him feel so safe and cherished. No other person had ever captivated his mind body and soul in the same way Kxolo had. Intentional or not, Neteyam had fallen past the point of no return.

He thought of his future self, the way he had radiated a happiness that Neteyam had never fully recognized in himself. A complete metamorphosis. Neteyam couldn’t deny that his future had never looked brighter than in that snippet of time.

Hope was a flame burning ever brighter.

For so long he had felt guilty for going against his father’s disapproval of Kxolo. He had wanted so desperately to become like his parents, who fought for their future. But now he could see that they too had to go against the expectations of the clan, mother’s parents, and the RDA all so they could pursue a future that others could not yet comprehend.

To honor his parents legacy he could only be true to himself.

Now it was his turn to fight for the future he saw.

“I really should be at communal dinner with Neteyam.” Vamai protested, fingers lazily shifting the cut berries back and forth.

“You are eating here.” Her father quietly reminded her. Her parents had insisted on an intimate family dinner for the night but were the tension to grow any higher Vamai was sure it would cut off her air flow until she suffocated.

“But Neteyam has been acting strange for a couple days so I really should be there to make sure he is alright.” She explained. “Olo’eyktan would want the same.” It never hurt to throw Kxolo’s name in for good measure.

Her father sighed before putting aside his half eaten fish.

“If Olo’eyktan is upset about your absence I will apologize myself.” He countered and her mother laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Vamai didn’t mean to be harsh towards her gentle mother but she couldn’t help but shrug the touch off. She was in no mood to be touched.

Reluctantly accepting her fate, Vamai strapped herself in for the rest of a silent awkward meal. She wasn’t sure what her parents thought this would accomplish. It was not going to fix what had been done.

“Epok says you are still not speaking to him.” Vamai’s father spoke in a smooth tone, even wafting calming pheromones her way. It was almost laughable the way they viewed her as a skittish prey ready to pounce away at any moment.

“Well I am not related to him so therefore I am under no obligation to talk to him.”

Her father’s composure cracked, brows knitted.

“I take it you are still mad then.” Came his reply.

“Oh am I? I didn’t think that option was still available to me.”

“Vamai,” Her mother tried to scold but it was more of a sigh to herself, a desperate plea to try and play nice.

It seemed too that her father was struggling to approach the situation without things escalating. His tail stood on point and those ears were already perky and alert for any shift.

“Settle, Vamai.” He warned but that spark of electricity was already vibrating through her. Sometimes that energy in her system flowed like a river, giving her the strength to push through physical bounds and explore to her content but other times it reacted like a live wire. It buzzed and hummed through her until she knew all those pent up emotions were going to fly out as lightning.

Trying to keep it trapped in a box would only sour her mood in a different direction. Either it was going to come out in rage or it would flow as endless tears. She didn’t want to accept either. Doing so would push her parents to worry for her more. It was that same worry which had put them here in the first place.

“Epok is a nice man, Vee.” Her father gently urged. “I was only trying to look out for your best interest.”

Lightning had always been her favorite.

“So you hatch up schemes to mate us together? Going to him behind my back like that, convincing him to secure my hand? How is that in my best interest?” She shoved the leaf of berries off of her lap.

“You have been stubborn. So unmovable from the beginning that you often get in your own way, sweetheart.” Her mother jumped in, her smooth voice such a harsh contrast to Vamai’s own distressed one.

“That’s right. I’ve come to accept that you most likely will not want to mate with an alpha, your need to push at authority is something that I don’t anticipate going away, but that is why Epok was the perfect choice.” Vamai’s father added.

Vamai’s jaw set so hard she could feel the aches settling into her back teeth. She fought the urge to grind them together.

“He is strong, responsible, reliable, capable, and already shares a friendship with you. Not to mention holds a respectable status among the clan.”

“I didn’t ask for his courting profile.” Her cheeks began to flush a deep purple, the blood rushing to her head at abounding speeds. Eyes flickering to the door, possible escape had never looked more tempting. “Why would you try to make that decision for me?”

It was evident that her father too was quickly losing his patience. Heavy breaths flared from his nostrils every time he prepared himself to speak. The civil temper in the hut was hanging by a thread and one that she was sure either herself or her father was going to snap.

“I mean what did you think? Let us fuck enough times and I would fall in love with him?”

It was her.

She snapped it.

And her father’s rage had boiled over. Once again her mouth had run away from her and had therefore put herself in the line of fire.

“Vamai Te Zehu Sehu’ite, you will watch your mouth!” He towered over them standing at full height.

It was only instinctive but Vamai still hated the way her ears pulled back and tears gathered in her eyes. Her omega was a whimpering mess and on the verge of surrendering to this fight. It didn’t matter though, she had dealt with worse.

Although her father’s hands were balled into fists and scent wafting with anger, it seemed he too could sense her shift in emotions through that betraying essence.

His voice softened, “I am less than pleased about the…manner of your relationship but once again Vamai it had only come to that because it was the only way you allowed Epok close to you. Every other suitor who has tried for your hand has been shoved away and rebuked by you. You must know that does not do well for a male’s willingness-”

“Poor babies.” She muttered, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door to their hut.

“What your father is trying to say is that we are worried about you. Finding a mate is a joyous endeavor, but also a very important decision. It can be…painful at times to go without one, especially as an omega.”

Vamai knew her mother was trying to speak from a place of experience but it was difficult to ever relate her own character to that of her mother. Her mother was gentle, soft spoken, kind and caring. Somedays Vamai felt as if she could not be further from the descent of her parents.

“You act as if I will never get mated. It’s not as if I have sworn off the entire concept. Just because I don’t have feelings for a few village alphas? So what? You just said so yourself that the choice is important.”

Her parents shared a look, one that made the electricity crackle in her veins.

“My child,” Her father crouched down and reached to cup her cheek. Those calming pheromones prowling once more but Vamai scowled back at him. “Your path thus far has been a rocky one. One that I would have never wished upon my only daughter.”

She reeled away from his touch.

“That’s what this is about? You know I will get mated but you don’t trust my taste.”

Her father’s gaze snagged her own and it took every fiber in her to hold the look.

“I made one mistake! One. Is that what you want me to admit? Tenatu was a mistake! I was young and foolish and let my emotions get the best of me. I know that, believe me, I will never forget it!”

“Vee” Her mother's soft voice cooed but Vamia was already pulling away from her gentle touch.Too scrambled and on the edge of a breakdown to think, she grabbed her small pouch and shoved the weird neck comm into it before her parents could see what it was.

“Vamai, do not be hasty.” Her father warned, but she was already parting the hut flaps.

Anxious for a quick retreat, she was not prepared to bump into a hard chest. Vamai stumbled backwards as two hands went out to steady her.

“Oh, Vamai. Are you alright?” Epok asked, trying to help the small omega get her footing.

She scoffed, ripping her arms from his grasp and turning back to her father.

“What a wonderful dinner you had planned, sempu.” She gritted out, face already turning a darker shade with rage.

She didn’t allow either male to speak, didn’t give them the time to persuade, justify, or defend their actions. It was clear that tonight she was in fact the fool.

So Vamai did what she knew how to do best.

She ran.

“I’m not in the mood, today.” Lo’ak grunted out, storming away from Amnu.

His father had been raging since that morning per the news. Lo’ak was surprised both of his parents didn’t jump the messenger Kxolo sent, no matter how soft spoken or gentle he was about delivering it. Regardless, that anger had shown through in training. Jake had run the warriors down to the bone, merciless with his corrections of every single infraction. Each screw up had come with a consequence, reminiscent of Jake’s military days and something Lo’ak was all too familiar with experiencing.

At the end of the day, he was exhausted, infuriated, and craving nothing more than to speak with his feisty omega. As tough as Vamai thought she was, her insults could do nothing more than brighten his day.

“It is true then.” Amnu said, ignoring his warnings.

Lo’ak grinded to a halt. With a bone chilling stiffness, he turned to face the other alpha male.

“What. Is.” He hissed, teeth already preparing to tear the male limb from limb. It had been too long of Amnu’s pursuing and nagging.

“What they say of your brother. He is mated with that psychotic Olo’eyktan.”

Their game of chase quickly flipped on its head, Lo’ak’s long legs carrying him towards the male in stomping fashion.

“It is not.” His five fingers splayed over the male’s chest, pushing him backwards until he stumbled slightly. “Watch your mouth.”

Amnu held his arms up in surrender, lips turned downwards.

“Fine. I do not protest. In fact that is good news, especially considering our deal.”

Lo’ak could already feel his sore muscles bunching up. This was not the conversation he needed today.

“What the hell are you on about, Amnu?”

“I’m talking about when I covered for your ass a few weeks ago. I was under the impression you would bring home a certain pretty omega. And yet, no Neteyam.”

“First of all, I never promised you anything. You were the one that wanted to help get Neteyam back. Secondly, your help was nonexistent considering I still got turned over within a few hours.” Lo’ak’s hands balled into fists tight enough to mark half moons into his palms. He was in no mood to be tested, even less so engage with some horny entitled alpha.

“You know that I would treat him better than that brain dead Olo’eyktan. You and I want the same thing.”

Lo’ak swore he heard his teeth crack from the pressure of his clamped jaw. Amnu’s confidence, however, appeared to know no bounds as he calmly pushed forward.

“Even if he has been,” Amnu paused, lips pursed while looking for the right term. “Sullied, you could say.”

The first swing was instinctual. Lo’ak neither needed to think nor decide to give him a right hook. The second, however, was more precise, more intentional. Both made his knuckles ache, but it was more than a worthy cause.

“You keep my brother’s name out of your filthy mouth!”

Amnu stumbled and poked at his now bleeding lip but his features too soon morphed in a display of fury.

“You seem to forget that before this whole mess I was courting your brother for months.”

“Oh really? Is that what those pathetic gifts were? Truly, I thought they were some garbage toys for Tuk.” Lo’ak sneered, ears pointed and alert for the receiving attack.

And it came.

The other alpha rammed into him, bringing them both to the ground in a tangle of snapping jaws and swinging hits. Admittedly, Amnu got his fair share of hits in, but Lo’ak’s restraint was quickly circling down the drain. It was true that Amnu had been relentlessly pursuing Neteyam but his desire was no match for the swirling emotions that had been spiraling in Lo’ak for months now.

So he channeled it.

Every jab, tug, and punch was fueled by that turmoil.

Every day that had been spent trying to keep that fire inside, trying to fill in as a good older brother was compacted into his anger. Amnu made some scratches, even managed to pounded in some deep bruises but Lo’ak was less than deterred.

He rolled them over, straddling the male and pushing him into the dirt violently. Amnu growled and squirmed but Lo’ak knew how to position his body so that escape was not his to be had. He pinned Amnu’s neck down with his leg, the pressure not enough to cut off the airway but still able to cause great strain.

“You think that beating me up is going to bring him back?” Amnu’s hoarse voice egged him on. Another hit to the jaw. “It’s not my fault you failed.”

And that’s when Lo’ak let the floodgates open.

Lip bleeding with scattered bruises along his stomach and face, Lo’ak stomped back to his hut. The fight had dialed his adrenaline to eleven and yet it still left him unsatisfied. In the end he had been triumphant but what did it really matter? Amnu was the least of his problems. His mother and father were sure to be fighting once more as they struggled to keep their emotions in check and find a solution. His older brother was swaddled in the arms of some asshole and his own love life was keeping him up at night until his training was suffering.

Settling into his hammock, Lo’ak had never been more grateful to have a place to call his own. It gave him the solace and time to think that he required on days like today.

“Lo’ak.”

He shot upright, eyes scanning the ground for the earpiece faintly making the sound. He tried not to dwell on how fast he scrambled to respond. It had been a hard day. He deserved to hear her voice.

“Little snitch, well well well. You do know how to start a comm link after all.” He struggled to keep the words light. Vamai had a knack for creating this playful conversation between them, however he was sure she would not describe their interactions in the same light.

“Yeah….guess so.” She responded and Lo’ak blinked.

“What are you up to?” He hesitantly veered forward, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Nothing really.”

Lo’ak brows furrowed as he winced and pressed on his bleeding lip.

“Nothing, huh? It’s kind of hard to do no-”

“Why are you talking strange?”She interrupted.

“Strange?” He mumbled while pressing the cloth against his cut.

“Yes, you sound different.”

He paused for a moment.

“Oh that. I have a cut on my lip, just a minor-”

“How?”

It wasn’t rare for Vamai to be so blunt, but Lo’ak couldn’t help but notice her sudden attention.

“I got into a fight. Nothing major, just the usual banged up cuts and bruises.” He shrugged, laying back down on his hammock. Talking to Vamai was meant to be his escape from the events of the day. The last thing he wanted was to get into the details.

“And you have seen tsahik.”

Lo’ak grimaced at the idea of facing his grandmother at a time like this. The last thing his family needed was to worry about the injuries his heated temper had bestowed upon him.

“Well, I don’t think now is a good time for that. My family is a little…disarrayed.”

The silence hung heavy for a moment and Lo’ak found the questions at the tip of his tongue begging to let loose. He didn’t want to think about Neteyam or the Olo’eyktan or any of his problems, but there was always a temptation to beseech Vamai. Surely she would know if the rumors were true.

“I can patch you up.”

His thoughts reared to a stop.

“What? What do you mean?” He sprung back up in his hammock, muscles aching from the sudden strain.

“Patch you up. Heal your injuries.”

His fingers ran over the neck comm, making sure there were no missing parts that could be distorting the signal.

“Yes I….you could.” He swallowed. “Are you offering?”

“I suppose so.” Came her reply and Lo’ak just about nearly fell on his face as he scrambled to unwind the hammock around his legs. What had gotten into her? Most nights he was lucky to get a ten minute conversation with her and now she wanted to see him? But not only that. Heal him, take care of him.

Although a primal part of him purred at the idea of his omega warming up to him, his suspicion couldn’t be ignored.

“Meet me at the bottom of the waterfall.”

Lo’ak hastily agreed but there was no reply.

The waterfall, the same waterfall he had jumped down after her. The same waterfall that at the bottom of he had tasted her essence for the first time.

The same place she had forbidden them of speaking about for weeks.

On the ride over Lo’ak struggled to suppress his urgency. He told himself over and over that it was sure to be a joke. Vamai had been…compliant with their comm conversations but any speak of meeting up again had ended with radio silence. He told himself that she was simply playing a prank on him and that the day would once again end with another disappointment.

It didn’t stop the flutter in his stomach, however.

A flutter that had burst into an avalanche when he landed to find her petite form sitting against a tree, arranging bowls of healing ointments.

It couldn’t have been more than two weeks since he had a waft of her perfume but a serge of primal emotion swept over him at the familiar scent regardless. It rolled forward memories of how that essence had complimented her taste perfectly, of how she had moaned out his name and squirmed against his gripping hands.

More than anything however, it brought forth the memory of her small form in his arms. The way she had slept so softly against him.

Now, however, that fleeting tinge of peace that had been present in her pheromones was nowhere to be found. In fact, Vamai sat still. So perfectly still and stiff that it had sent chills down his spine. He tried to get a read on her scent but there was a messy sprawl to it, like a tangled web holding what lied beneath.

“You showed.” He forced on a smile as he rounded the tree.

Vamai stiffened and nervously shuffled the bowls into a random order.

“I said I would.”

The anxious demeanor immediately put him on guard. When he caught her hand that was reaching for another bowl he spoke softly. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t do that.” She shoved him off. Weirdly the aggressive action felt more like her usual self. He leaned into it, hoping to press some sort of reaction or answer that would make sense.

“Why not?”

For the first time upon arriving her eyes met his. They burned with a formidable rage but there was a shimmer of waterworks lined over them as well. Her lips quivered and immediately, Lo’ak’s tail jerked up on alert.

“Vama-”

“Can you please just hold still so I can do this?” Vamai snapped.

And although a part of him stirred at her disrespectful tone, even his alpha knew how to detect an omega in distress. He sat back on his knees quietly.

She didn’t meet his eyes while preparing the healing balm, letting her wavy hair create a curtain to hide. Vamai was stoic as she began rubbing ointment into a cut on his collarbone, but there were tell-tale signs that Lo’ak couldn’t help but focus on. Her small fingers trembled with every motion over his cut. Although it stung, Lo’ak didn’t so much as flinch.

Her golden orbs dared a glance at his beaten features.

“You got injured like this how again?” She whispered, eyes intensely trained on the already treated cut in front of her.

“A disagreement.”

“Skxawng.” She huffed, but there was a waiver in her voice. “With who?”

“Just some moronic alpha that has an obsession with Neteyam. Thought it was his place to make swift judgments.”

Her hand paused and from his vantage point Lo’ak could just barely make out her sharp teeth nipping into her bottom lip.

“And he looks worse than this, right?”

“Of course.”

Vamai nodded, shrinking back into her hair once more.

“Good.”

Her touch became softer, increasingly more gentle when running over the bruises and cuts. She avoided his face, however, tending to every other area first. It tied a knot in Lo’ak’s stomach to see her this way. Quiet. Withdrawn. Small.

Vamai was often like a ticking bomb. On some days he couldn’t help himself from chasing to set her off, to get her to reveal something of significance. Their connection was real, he knew it and there was no denying that she must have felt it too, but he could never figure out what the big hold up was.

However, he knew on certain days that it was crucial to handle her with care. If he had learned anything about bombs from his father it was that the smallest and seemingly most inconsequential moves were that same that had them blowing you to bits.

Breath held in his lungs, Lo’ak ever so lightly rested his palm against her lower back. At first it was soft enough to be mistaken as a brush of wind but when she didn’t pull away, he allowed his hand to flatten across the soft skin.

He couldn't see her face, couldn’t get an accurate read on her but her scent shifted dramatically. Then suddenly she was resting her forehead against his chest. His other hand dug into the dirt as he fought off every instinct to brush her hair away and see what was really happening.

His patience was not tested for long however.

The shaking began and then came the sobs.

Tears rained down on his chest as Vamai crumbled against him.

His body reacted before his brain could catch up. She didn’t fight him as he pulled her to sit on his lap and latched his muscular arms around her. Calming pheromones drifted from him without thought but nothing could mask her own essence projecting sadness, longing, and…fear.

His brows furrowed, terrified for a moment that he had become the source of this turmoil, but then she leaned closer until her face was burrowed in the crook of his neck. A shiver ran down his spine as he once again experienced this long awaited contact.

Cheek laid against the top of her head, Lo’ak focused on keeping his breathing consistent and calm, something his omega could latch onto. It took considerable effort as his alpha was pulled between two different desires. To coddle and to protect. Surely this onslaught of emotions had to have an origin, one that his alpha was eager to exterminate.

How long had she been feeling this way?

Regardless, Lo’ak forced himself to remain calm and keep her bundled close against him.

He hated to see her so distressed and yet it had never felt better to have her in his arms, to finally express his adoration through a physical outlet.

Her wavy hair tickled at his nose as her sobs quietly rang through the air. One of her small hands found purchase along his battle band and Lo’ak’s heart fluttered in his chest. Daring to push the boundaries just a little further, Lo’ak carefully pushed a few curls away from her forehead.

Her face was still buried against his neck but he could see the tears streaks staining her gorgeously soft cheeks and lips. He took it as a good sign when she didn’t correct this action, but Vamai wouldn’t open her eyes either. He wondered what secrets hid within those golden eyes. What sorrows she held at bay.

When the tears had ceased neither Na’vi moved.

She fit so perfectly against his larger form, tucked away where he could protect her from these invisible dangers. Pride swelled in his chest when Vamai shifted to tuck closer and relaxed in his hold. Long fingers skated up and down her spine, fiddling with the feathered straps intricately woven there.

Incidentally his pinky brushed her curling tail.

To his utter shock and delight that thin appendage curled around his wrist.

He looked down but her eyes were still shut. Staring for a moment, he thought that perhaps she had drifted off but then golden eyes peaked up at him through slanted slits. Immediately they closed against and Vamai shuffled to hide against his shoulder.

He suppressed a chuckle, knowing she would bite back at him for finding the action cute.

Instead he allowed himself to breathe in the moment. Silence was not a common occurrence between them, something he was unfamiliar with in their dynamic but he found himself enjoying it. It gave him the opportunity to fill his lungs with her essence, allow it to imprint itself into his mind, because he was not foolish enough to believe this would last forever.

At some point Vamai would remember who was holding her and remember whatever reasons she had for keeping him at arm's length. Then he would be back to chasing her, back to wrestling the omega into facing her own feelings. It was a challenge Lo’ak was willing to face, but it came with lonely moments too.

It would be worth it though.

This he knew as he brushed another curl from her temple.

Kxolo believed he had a knack for patience and keeping a cool composure. That is, before he had met Neteyam and the omega had easily turned him inside out.

It wasn’t uncommon to hunt solo for a few hours. Two, maybe three hours was normal. But when hour four hit, Kxolo could no longer keep his nerves at bay. He raced through the forest, barreling through bushing and scaling overturned trees within his path.

Worst case scenarios tumbled and tangled in his mind, tormenting him endlessly as he ran.

Neteyam had been off that morning. His head had been far away from the present and Kxolo regretted ever letting the omega out to hunt alone in that state. The forests of Pandora were not for the faint of heart and definitely not for those distracted. He could only imagine what creature had found him as prey.

Kxolo’s hand was drawing up to unsheath his knife when suddenly a familiar figure came into view.

Instantly the Olo’eyktan sagged in relief.

“Neteyam.” He breathed. “There you are, baby boy.”

He sheathed the dagger once more and quickly went to embrace the omega. Neteyam fell into the hug easily but his tail flickered back and forth in anticipation. Kxolo’s own tailed pointed in alert.

Holding the boy back at arm’s length, Kxolo scanned his slim frame for injuries.

“You aren’t hurt, are you?” He asked with brows knitted.

“I’m not.”

Kxolo beamed, nerves finally washed away.

“Come, I will help you bring back your kills.” Kxolo urged, taking him by the hand.

“Kxolo”

“I must admit you had me worried, little one.” The alpha chuckled, hand squeezing the smaller one in his grasp.

“Kxolo.”

“Yes love.” He hummed, focusing on following Neteyam’s footprints back to his hunting grounds.

“Kxolo.” Neteyam firmly yanked on the male’s hand, causing the alpha to immediately spin on his heel to face him. The Olo’eyktan’s ears perked up.

“Neteyam, what-”

“Mate with me.”

Thank you all for the support and patience! As always, your feedback and comments not only mean the world to me but also motivate me to write more. Can't wait for Chapter 16!

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