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beensbaee · 15 days ago
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Toruk Makto's son, Neteyam Sully, is your secret lover...!
Neteyam—your dear boyfriend, has been staring at you all night.
It's another nightly celebration amongst the Na'vi, and the clan is gathered around various fires lit as family and friends tell each other stories and tales.
Neteyam was your secret boyfriend.
As the son of your infamous clan leader, he was expected to be perfect. Stay absolutely in line and make no mistakes. He had no time for distractions.
But for you, he made an exception.
And he couldn't be happier. Yes, stealing glances at you and sneaking away with your smiling face is worth it all. The thrill and happiness he feels with you will forever remain unmatched. It was like his heart was finally living. The dull thump inside now a lively drum that beats to the sound of your soul.
"Neteyam."
He pulls away from the kiss breathless, his braids tossed over his shoulder and a smile in his eyes as he looked at you. He loved it when you said his name like that—
"Hmm?"
He doesn't give you a chance to even try and respond, because he's pressing his lips all over your mouth and face as you squirm and squeal under him
"Neteyam—!"
He laughs, gently tugging you onto the green ground beneath him as you huff. He kisses your pouting lips before positioning you on his legs so you're comfortable.
"Yes. What is wrong?"
He's smiling softly even as his finger taps mindlessly against your hip, and you let out a quiet sigh—not wanting to speak the words but knowing you had to.
"It's getting late. Your family will notice you're gone." You scold lightly, gently tracing the stripes on his chest idly as he shifts under you with a rare grin that stretched over the entirety of his face
"So? They're all fine, I am not needed right now. I will explain later—"
"What? That you were busy with me?" You say, pinching your brows with a sigh as he laughs. You didn't want Neteyam to get in trouble, but he could be so stubborn sometimes.
He's quiet after a bit, and you realize he's in deep thought when he stares off into the trees, tilting his head up towards the darkening sky before he turns to you
"I... I'd just like to stay here with you for a while longer. Is that okay?"
Your heart melts at the sight of his hopeful smile.
"And you think I want to leave you?" You murmur against his lips as he grins, cradling the back of your head in the palm of his hand as he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead
"No."
You're leaning back onto his chest after a while, watching the sun's rays twinkle out of sight as the stars rise—the night comes slowly but surely, and there isn't a single other soul in the world Neteyam would watch the moon with rather than you.
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makoodles · 1 year ago
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ミ the mightiest
part one | part two
🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader
🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
notes: adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!
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It was just a fluke, you tell yourself. A moment of weirdness that had come about because… because…
Okay, so you can’t really explain it.
You don’t like Neteyam! You never have! The sight of him appearing while you’re mid-rendezvous with Txetyo (the same man he had interrupted you with only a few days before!) should have sent you into an angry tailspin. And yet, you can’t forget the pulse of excitement that had throbbed low in your belly when you realised that he was standing there watching you.
Really, you should have been the one to speak up. But it was like your brain had switched off, like all your rational thoughts had gone on a temporary leave of absence; why else would you have stayed silent instead of stopping Txetyo and drawing attention to Neteyam’s presence?
Just like after your last confusing encounter with Neteyam in the healing hut, you end up sticking close to the human outpost for the next week.
It’s probably a little cowardly to hide instead of facing your problems head on, but you don’t care. You avoid Neteyam, you avoid Txetyo, you avoid any of the guys you’ve had flings with before because even the sight of them reminds you of what had happened that night in the forest. Inevitably, that leads to you avoiding the village entirely.
The outpost is as boring as ever, but it’s better than facing the mortification that’s no doubt awaiting you in the village. But at the very least, it’s not lonely.
Spider is kind enough to keep you company in the outpost for the first few days, though you quickly wish he wouldn’t. There’s not much to do, and Spider never deals well with boredom.
“Quit that.” You grit out, your eyes sliding sideways.
Spider is sitting next to you, drumming his fingers insistently on his thighs. He sighs, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling and leaning back on the lumpy couch you’re both sprawled on.
“This is mind-numbing.” He complains, throwing his dirty bare feet over your thighs. “It’s so boring here. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time inside in my whole life.”
“You don’t have to be here.” You remind him, shoving his feet off you.
Spider sighs, swinging his legs back to the ground so he can sit up properly. “Right, sure. I could leave you here alone to mope all day by yourself in your dank little bedroom. Or you could tell me what’s going on with you.”
You grumble, and avert your eyes. Okay, so maybe your avoidance has been a little more obvious than you had intended. You’ve barely missed a day in the village your whole life, and yet in the last two weeks you’ve spent most of your time hiding out in the outpost.
“Nothing’s going on.” You say, and it rings hollow even to your own ears.
Spider purses his lips. He seems pointedly unconvinced, and stretches back on the couch with his arms across the back of the headrest.
“So it has nothing to do with whatever the hell happened when you went off with Txetyo during the hunt celebrations?”
You almost wince, but manage to keep your expression neutral as you stare at your knees. “Nope.”
Spider hums. “And I suppose the fact that Neteyam very conspicuously disappeared into the forest about ten seconds after you left is also unrelated.”
That cracks your composure, and you take a shaky breath as you glance sideways at Spider’s face. He doesn’t look like he’s judging you or anything; he’s just waiting patiently for your answer, a single eyebrow raised.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You mutter, avoiding his eyes.
There’s a long pause, and then Spider huffs out a sigh and tilts his head back to stare at the water-stained ceiling up above you. You feel a little bad about keeping secrets from him; usually you and Spider act as each other’s confidants by virtue of the fact that the two of you are humans the same age amongst all the Na’vi. But this whole mess with Neteyam is something that you’re struggling to wrap your own head around – you don’t want to start explaining the whole mortifying ordeal to someone who was as good as your brother.
“Lo’ak’ll get it out of you.” Spider says confidently.
You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please tell me he’s not coming over.”
“He’s worried.” Spider protests. “You’ve been acting super weird, dude.”
“He’s nosey.” You correct.
Spider shrugs, unable to argue that point. “Well, whatever.”
It’s as if speaking his name summons him, because the shoddy linoleum floor creaks behind you as a big nine-feet-tall body steps into the room. You catch a glimpse of bright blue skin out of the corner of your eye and groan, tipping your head back against the back of the couch and closing your eyes.
“Seriously, I am not in the mood to be interrogated by the Idiot Brigade today.” You complain. “Can’t you come back and bother me another time?”
There’s a pause. And then, a low voice filled with amusement says, “Am I a member of this “idiot brigade?”
That is not Lo’ak’s voice.
For a moment, you don’t even turn around. You just breathe slowly, your eyes shut tight. Maybe if you don’t turn and look, Neteyam will just vanish from your presence as if he had never spoken at all.
But instead of Neteyam’s spontaneous disappearance, you get Spider shifting on the lumpy couch beside you before climbing to his feet. Your eyes shoot open at that, and your head whips around to stare at him in disbelief.
“Where are you going?” You hiss, already reaching out after him.
Spider stops, hesitates, his eyes flicking between you and Neteyam. He looks as though he would rather be literally anywhere other than here; you know the feeling.
“Uh… I’m gonna go find Lo’ak.” Spider mutters, his eyes darting around cagily. “Seems like you two probably need time to talk some things out.”
Before you can even protest that, Neteyam is stepping forward, marching his way around the couch. You sit up, properly startled now, realising that your window for escape is rapidly narrowing.
“Tell Lo’ak not to come.” Neteyam says simply, stepping nimbly around the couch so that he’s in front of you. It’s like he knows that you were thinking of an escape, because he tilts his head as a subtle smile tugs at his mouth.
“Yeah. Got it.” Spider sounds a little strangled, sending you a look that you can’t quite decipher before turning and scampering out the door, letting it slide shut behind him with a quiet thud.
You stare at him for a long moment, your mouth hanging open like a moron. Neteyam just stares back, his expression even, as though he’s waiting for you to speak first.
You swallow thickly, then push yourself up so that you’re standing. It’s a weak attempt to put yourself on a more even level with him, but it fails as you find yourself eye-level with his damn belly button.
“What are you doing here?” You snap, though it comes out a little weaker than you had intended.
Neteyam doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he gingerly lowers himself down onto the ancient lumpy couch that you and Spider had commandeered for yourselves from the desolate wreckage of Bridgehead. He’s almost comically large for it, his knees bent awkwardly up as he settles back, the springs creaking ominously.
“You have been avoiding the village.” He says simply.
And… oh god, you can’t stop staring. It’s stupid, because you’ve known Neteyam your whole life, you know what he looks like. But it’s like your eyes are taking him in differently now. You hadn’t spent much time with him as kids; you were always chasing after Lo’ak, Kiri, and Spider, and Neteyam usually maintained a distance as he trained under the guidance of his parents. And then he was gone, departed for the reef villages, only to return after the worst of the war years had passed.
But it’s different now. He’s a man, his shoulders broader than ever and his muscles more defined than is typical of the Omaticaya warriors – no doubt thanks to his time in the reefs with the bulkier Metkayina.
Your mouth is a little dry; it’s not a good time to be reminded that you find big, muscly Na’vi men really, really attractive.
“Yeah.” You say, your voice scratchy. “Uh… I’ve been busy.”
Neteyam’s hairless brow raises in an unspoken gesture of doubt as he leans back into the couch. Your eyes dart down nervously over his abdomen. Each sculpted abdominal muscle speaks of his physical prowess and the sheer discipline and dedication to his training, and his slim waist is accentuated by the woven battle band around his waist. Fuck, you want to touch his belly.
You can hardly believe that you had this man’s cock in your hand, or that he had been grunting and fucking your fist. Maybe you had hallucinated that. Looking at him like this, taking in his big amber eyes and strong jawline and high cheekbones, you’re reminded rather harshly of just why he’s one of the most sought-after men in the village by the unmated Omaticaya girls. It seems unlikely that he’d ever lower himself to allow himself to be touched by you.
And yet, you know you hadn’t hallucinated him standing only mere feet from you in the forest, watching intently as Txetyo had railed you into the mossy ground.
As if he knows what you’re thinking, Neteyam speaks again. “Avoiding Txetyo? I do not blame you.
You almost choke at that. Good lord, the audacity of this man. He knows perfectly well that you’ve also been trying to avoid him, judging by the smug look on his face.
“No! He- he wasn’t so bad.” You protest, though the words ring unconvincingly in your own ears.
“Tawtute, you’re so tight!” Neteyam gasps mockingly, lowering his voice into a dude-bro register that decidedly does not sound like Txetyo. “Fuck, you’re so wet, I’m gonna cum—"
You squawk, hastily stepping forward to swat ineffectually at his shoulder. “Will you shut up, that’s not what–“
Neteyam grabs at your wrist when you smack his shoulders, his long fingers wrapping all the way around you before tugging. You stagger, pulled off balance as he tugs you onto the couch beside him. You end up with your limbs in an ungainly sprawl as you attempt to collect yourself beside him, flustered behind belief. He doesn’t let go of your wrist.
“And he– he made me finish, so.” You say lamely. You’re sitting next to him. Why are you sitting next to him? You should be trying to shove him up off the couch and shoo him out the door.
“I’m pretty sure you made yourself come.” Neteyam corrects, his head tilting. His glossy braids spill over his shoulders, colourful beads clicking together. “Which wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t there, by the way.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just pointing out the obvious.” Neteyam’s smug little grin is growing, and he leans in a little closer. “I don’t think you were enjoying it at all until I showed up.”
You gape at him, stunned.
“I- you-!” You stammer, your breath catching from the sheer swell of your indignation. Who does he think he is, showing up here all muscled and gorgeous like this only to embarrass you?
“Speak for yourself!” You finally manage to splutter, trying to sit up on the couch; Neteyam’s grip on your wrist prevents you from going too far, so you give up and resign yourself to being stuck beside him until he grows bored of tormenting you. “Txetyo was– That was pretty much par for the course. I mean– it wasn’t unusual, sometimes that’s just how sex goes–“
Neteyam sits up straight, so suddenly that it startles you. His brow is furrowed, his eyes flicking rapidly over your face as though he’s trying to assess if you’re being honest.
He’s… he’s leaning in rather close to you. You blink at him, but don’t move back. It’s so rare for you to be around Neteyam without your respirator mask acting like a shield over your face, and you feel a little naked now without it.
“That was a standard experience for you?” He asks, and his voice has… changed a little. That smug amusement on his face has vanished, replaced with what looks like bewilderment.
You scoff at his surprise, rolling your eyes. “Shouldn’t you know what my standard experience is? You’ve interrupted enough of them.”
He doesn’t respond to your snarky remark. He just stares at you as if he’s examining you, and you shift awkwardly on the couch, unsure in the face of his scrutiny.
“What, you’re surprised that all men aren’t sex gods?” You ask a little testily. “They want to experiment with a Sky Person, and I like sex with Na’vi men, so… win-win.”
Neteyam just frowns, pulling back a little. “No, that’s not… I don’t understand. Why do you spend time with them if they are not successful in pleasuring you?”
Boy, is that a loaded question. You don’t want to explain to Neteyam that it’s not really about sex, that it’s more about a pathological need for physical connection and comfort, especially when you try your very hardest not to think about it yourself.
“Maybe I’m just hoping one of them will really impress me.” You mumble, a little sourly. “I guess I’ll keep holding out hope.”
Neteyam’s ears flatten, pressing low against his head as his eyes widen a little. He shifts, his body looming over you like a big blue behemoth as the couch springs squeal beneath his weight.
“I could.” He says. “Impress you, I mean.”
You snort, glancing up at him with a wry sort of smile that falls off your face almost immediately when you see the look on Neteyam’s face. His expression is perfectly earnest, his jaw set and his pupils dilated with an odd sort of urgency that you’ve never seen from him. He… he doesn’t look as though he’s making fun of you at all.
“What?” You croak, blinking.
And then you realise what all this about. Neteyam is always so determined to prove himself, to be the best at everything. He’s always pushed himself beyond his limits and worked himself to the bone to be stronger and faster and wiser, to be a better leader and a better hunter and a better fighter. You probably shouldn’t even be surprised that now he’s decided to prove that he’s better than his peers at fucking you, too.
“This is just a competition for you, isn’t it?” You scoff, yanking your wrist out of his hand. He shifts forward on the couch then as though preparing to catch you if you move to run, but you’re not making any move to leave.
“No. They are not worthy competitors.” Neteyam scoffs as if the question is absurd. “This is to prove to you that you have been wasting your time with men who are not capable of pleasing you.”
You scoff again, but it’s a much weaker sound this time. “I–”
“You have bad taste in men, paskalin.” Neteyam murmurs, shuffling closer on the ancient couch.
You stare up at him, your breath catching a little in your chest. God, he’s so much bigger than you. You hate that it’s making your body heat up, and you feel yourself growing wet as he leans in close, smelling like fresh water and the forest.
“Are you going to let me?” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to trace a finger along your jawline. “Let me prove myself.”
You should say no. You should tell him to leave, to get out. You should absolutely not feed into his own ego by fucking him.
“Yes,” You breathe stupidly. “Okay.”
You’re expecting him to grab you immediately and flip you around onto either your back or stomach; in all your previous experiences, you’ve gotten right down to it with your partners. But to your surprise, Neteyam leans in and holds your hips with his big hands as he presses his mouth to yours in a kiss.
Kissing is not something that you’re used to; the Na’vi you’ve hooked up with have stayed clear of the human outpost, unlike the Sully kids who had paid frequent visits, which means that all of your sexual encounters have occurred in the forest or in empty corners in the village with your respirator mask firmly attached to your face.
Now your face feels naked and vulnerable, and you gasp shakily against Neteyam’s mouth when he leans in and kisses you firmly.
It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body.
Neteyam doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. He kisses with his hands, his whole body. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backward, your body pressing into the raggedy couch cushions.
At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Neteyam’s hands running over you, stroking your sides and clutching your neck and squeezing your ass.
“Hah,” You gasp out when Neteyam’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you’re embarrassingly wet already, just from a little kissing.
Fuck, he’s a good kisser. That’s so annoying.
You run out of breath too fast, and you have to gasp. Neteyam breaks the kiss for barely even a second, and shifts some of his weight to his elbows as he follows you down onto the couch, nuzzling and nipping at your jaw before returning to your mouth.
There’s a hand on either side of your head during that blink-and-you-miss-it break in the kiss, but then he moves his big hands to hold onto your face like they’re afraid you’ll escape, and now they don’t want to let go at all. One of his hands cups your jaw, the other clasping around the back of your neck and tilting your head farther back, deeper into the couch, opening you up. You think about the fact that he can thread his fingers together behind your head with his palms pressed to your cheeks and nearly moan like a whore into his mouth.
Neteyam’s eagerness surprises you. The kiss is messy and graceless and airless and greedy, frantic and full of teeth, and you can only roll your hips in reflex, in mindless desperation, in a feeble attempt to buck, your mind repeating a refrain of yes holy shit holy shit YES. You can’t even squirm, because holy hot fuck Neteyam is heavy, and he’s got every inch of you covered and owned.
God, have you always been this easy? Just kiss you, feel you up a little and want you enough and you’ll end up happily whimpering under someone on the couch? Even someone like Neteyam, who you’ve been so resentful of for so long?
You spread your thighs, and Neteyam’s narrow hips slot into place like a damn puzzle piece. Neteyam hums a small laugh and pauses, pulls back an inch or so, gazing steadily at your lips and smoothing the tips of his thumbs back and forth over your cheekbones. He takes a moment to fumble with his respirator and takes a deep breath before dropping it and leaning down to kiss you again.
“Oh, fuck.” You whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when his hips roll fluidly against you.
You pull back from the kiss, just enough to get a look at his face. His eyes are a little clouded, his lips puffy and spit-slicked. He looks dazed, and there's a thin line of saliva connecting your mouths together. His brow scrunches in a frown, as though you pulling away from him is a personal offence.
Oh god, you think. I'm so fucked.
The hand that had been cupping your cheek releases you, slides down your body as well. Your breath hitches when he passes over your breasts, drags down the plush skin of your belly, before reaching in between your thighs to cup at your pussy over your clothes. His hand tightens, grabbing you. Cunt, pubic bone, the whole shebang, all of it right there in the palm of Neteyam’s shockingly big hand.
“Bedroom.” You gasp, your head spinning as he just holds your cunt over your denim shorts. “Bedroom now.”
Neteyam grins, and wraps his arms around your waist to haul you into his arms before he lifts you off the couch and practically staggers down the hall. His excitement surprises you, and you cling to his neck as he ducks his way through the corridor.
Mercifully the outpost is quiet today, with most of its human occupants out in the forest or in the village – that means there’s no one around the witness the sight of Neteyam’s enormous blue ass squeezing himself in through the small doorway of the closet-like bedroom you’d claimed for yourself, with you dangling from his arms like a doll.
You’re still breathing hard when Neteyam clumsily gets the door shut before placing you on your squeaky old bed, following you down on it. He’s careful not to crush you with the bulk of his body, instead resting his weight on his forearms where they’re planted on either side of your head.
The consideration makes something squirm in your belly, and you reach up to intertwine your fingers at the back of his head and pull him down to resume kissing him.
Neteyam rolls his hips into yours, and you can feel the thick ridge of his erection pressing into the seam of your shorts, right over your clit. The sound you make is absolutely humiliating, and you will deny ever making it until your last breath, but you twitch as you try to catch that exact same friction again.
And fuck, kissing like this may be new to you, but you never want to stop. You didn’t even know that kissing with tongue could feel so erotic; Neteyam’s hands are on your face again, angling you this way and that way and however the fuck Neteyam feels like angling you, and goddamn he must be doing it just because he can.
You try desperately to remember any little kissing tricks you’ve learned and draw a pathetic blank. Luckily, Neteyam seems intent on showing off. His creativity is more than enough to occupy you both, and you’re too busy being excruciatingly horny to really be self-conscious anyway.
Besides, your next exhale is a chest-rattling groan, and if Neteyam’s immediate grunt of approval and slow thirsty grind against your trapped body is any indication, then you're doing just fine by his standards.
But then, to your absolute distress, Neteyam pulls away.
“Hhh — Shit! Shit, hang on. Shit.��� Neteyam hisses, turning his face away and levering himself up on his arms. He’s breathing hard, and the sound of the English curse words falling out of his mouth in that strained tone of voice has your thighs squeezing together pathetically.
“What?” You ask, your voice sounding dazed and stupid even to your own ears.
Neteyam huffs out a few centering breaths and then shakes out his head to clear it. He fumbles for the respirator, takes several deep gulps of air before dropping it again. He angles his hips away from you for a moment, breathing steadily.
“Why’d you stop?” You hate the way the words come out as a whine; you feel as though you’re losing your mind, as though you’re actually going to die if he doesn’t keep kissing you.
Neteyam breathes out a quiet laugh, sounding a little disbelieving as he drops his forehead down to rest on your shoulder.
“Fuck.” He whispers, but he doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he pushes himself down your body, sliding between your legs.
When he tugs your shorts, you lift your hips eagerly to help him shuck your pants off. As he’s tugging at your panties, you work on yanking your oversized pyjama shirt off you. It feels as though the two of you are descending into a frenzy, touching and kissing and tearing at each other like animals.
When you’re naked beneath him you shiver, staring up at him in eager anticipation. You wait for him to come back up and kiss you, to take his own loincloth off and stick his cock into you, but he doesn’t. Instead, his head bullies its way in between your thighs.
“No,” You whine, making a face. You don’t want him to waste time with eating you out when you’re ready now. “Just put it in.”
Neteyam shoots you a reproachful look as though he thinks you’re acting crazy. “You said you would let me please you.”
“But–” You frown, feeling a little ridiculous for having this conversation when his big head is blinking up at you from between the pudge of your thighs. “You don’t have to. I don’t enjoy getting head all that much anyway.”
But instead of changing his mind, that just makes him snort as though you’d told a damn joke.
“Let me show you, syulang.” He whispers, turning his head and brushing his lip over the soft skin of your inner thigh. He kisses you there, and then sucks a hickey-like bruise into the squidge there.
And damn, you can’t turn him down.
“Fine.” You sigh, a little irritated, and spread your legs wider so that Neteyam can muscle his way in.
He grins as if he knows something you don’t, grabs your legs and pulls them so your thighs are hanging off his big broad shoulders. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over you between your legs, and you prepare to lie back and let him lick you down there until he deems you’re wet enough to start fucking you properly.
But then he actually gets his mouth on you, and… oh. Oh.
You tilt your head back, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. That feels… better than you had expected, actually.
Each of Neteyam’s movements are calculated, precise. He laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks. You nearly yelp, but manage to tamp down on your reaction and merely wheeze instead. Neteyam points his tongue and presses inside of you, sucks and licks like he’s actually eating something. At one point, he even bites, and you jerk so hard that you accidentally grind against his face.
It’s not like any of the head you have ever received. You’ve enjoyed it before, sure, but it’s never felt like this, and it’s definitely never made you come. And yet, to your honest surprise, you can feel a familiar coil of tension beginning to build deep in your abdomen.
“Oh god.” You breathe, sounding a little bewildered.
You feel his tongue against your clit again, hardly noticing that his hands are gripping at your ass until he yanks you forward as he buries his whole damn face between your legs. His fingers return, delving into you, deep and searching. His mouth works against your clit and it feels like you’re being squeezed between the kinds of pleasure, worshipped and wrung out and attacked all at once.
“Neteyam,” You gasp like a fool. “Oh, what the fuck, it– Neteyam, hang on, it’s too–”
Neteyam is still devouring you, sucking hard and persistent until you cry out. You try to clench your thighs around his head as he laps at you like a man starved, but his hands are still on your thighs, locking you in an iron grip, keeping you spread wide for him, and you can hardly breath because every time you think to try and take a breath his tongue is moving over your clit again and he’s sucking against you.
Your head swims, and you wonder why on earth you had been so resistant to allow him to make you feel good like this. Fuck, have you just been getting really bad head this whole time? You didn’t even know it could feel like this.
Your heels are digging into his back, and the closer he brings you to the edge the harder your thighs clamp around his head. He barely seems to notice the force you’re exerting, merely groaning to himself everytime you squeeze tighter.
Your thoughts splinter and unravel, and you can do nothing but buck uselessly against his hold, desperately chasing more of his lips and his tongue.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” You chant, eyes squeezed shut tight as you whine.
He's just so good with his tongue, and you’ve never felt like this in your life. It feels as though you can't breathe properly, as though you’re melting from the inside out. None of those awkward, fumbling sexual encounters with those other Na’vi ever had you feeling like this.
Your breasts are heaving with the effort it takes just to breathe through the white hot pleasure crashing through you, and you stare down at him with wide eyes as he suckles again at your clit. When he sees you looking down at him, he throws you a cheeky wink as he laps at you.
You let out a helpless, gasping laugh at him, your hands clenching compulsively in his braids. Your giggle has him pulling back a little so he can look up at you properly; the grin he shoots you is extra shiny thanks to the fact that the lower half of his face is covered in his spit and your own slick, but he looks dopey and happy.
You manage one word, on a long and broken moan- “Please!”
Neteyam laughs quietly, the sound vibrating through his lips and into your pussy, but then his tongue is on your clit again, sucking you into his mouth, and you’re shattering around him as he finally pushed you over that edge you’ve been teetering on.
You keen and shake violently, spasming around Neteyam’s fingers and jerking into his mouth, coming so hard that you see black spots in your vision. Neteyam doesn’t let up, pulling broken moans out of you with tongue until you’re writhing.
You squirm and whimper until suddenly it’s too damn much, and then you’re reaching down to push at Neteyam’s neat braids to try to get away from his relentless tongue. Damn, he’s acting like he’s hungry for you, like he’d swallow you whole if he could. He doesn’t let up until you’re begging him to, albeit wordlessly — whimpering and shoving at his face, trying to arch away from the too-sensitive touch.
Finally, Neteyam relents. He lowers your legs from his shoulders and you practically crumple, going limp against your mattress. Neteyam’s face is wet and shiny, and he looks ridiculously smug. You’re still trembling, throbbing with the aftershocks.
“Mm, you sound so pretty.” Neteyam murmurs, his words coming out muffled and almost slurred as though he’s drunk.
“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you struggle to catch your breath.
Neteyam hums, pressing kisses all over your pubic mound and lower belly. He seems so damn pleased with himself, pushing himself up your body so that he can nuzzle into your neck, pressing sweet nipping kisses to your throat.
His breathing is a little strained, and you grab blindly at the respirator hanging around his neck before bringing the mask up to his face.
“Breathe, Neteyam.” You gasp out, still a little breathless yourself.
He grunts, as though irritated over something of secondary importance, and takes a couple of deep breaths before dropping the mask again. His pupils are blown so wide that his iris is barely visible, just a thin ring of gold around a pool of black.
You laugh, panting and overwhelmed at the sight of his shiny face, and reach up to wipe his slick face with the palms of your hands. He huffs a quiet laugh of his own, turning his face towards your hands and nuzzling against you like an oversized cat.
“That was… that was better than I expected.” You say, still struggling to collect yourself.
Neteyam’s smile turns a little sly, his teeth flashing as he kisses at your palms. “Impressed?”
And you can’t help but laugh at that, feeling as though this whole situation is spinning around far beyond your wildest imagination. Fuck, he’s really giving his all to this, just to prove to you that he’s superior to the other men of the clan.
“Not yet.” You whisper, biting your lip and hoping that he takes it as the challenge/invitation you mean it to be.
And luckily he does, his smile only growing.
“I should keep going then.” He murmurs, his hands stroking up your sides.
He gently caresses both breasts, a little knead of big, rough hands that can cover much more than just one tit and you love it. Your back arches as you shiver, revelling in how bizarrely gentle he’s being with you.
“Yes,” You whisper eagerly, your legs spreading further until the muscles of your inner thighs are burning with the strain of it. “You definitely should.”
You reach out to tug at the band of his loincloth, your fingers actually trembling a little as you try to unknot it at the sides. Neteyam’s own breath hitches, and his much more nimble fingers reach to help you untie it and draw it away.
And fuck, now he’s naked too. You sit up eagerly, peering down between your bodies to try and catch a look at him properly. You may have touched him that day in the healing hut, but it’s completely different seeing him.
He’s big. So big. All the Na’vi are big when compared to you, of course, but this just… it feels different, because this is Neteyam. His cock is the same pretty blue shade as the rest of him, decorated with darker stripes and pretty glowing tanhì. Your heart thumps recklessly at sight of it twitching towards his belly, and you reach out towards it eagerly.
Your small fingers wrap around the hard length of him — he’s too thick for you to comfortably hold in one hand, but that doesn’t seem to matter because he groans appreciatively anyway when you run your fingers down his length and then back up, feeling warm and sticky precome gushing from the tip to coat your fingers.
“Ah!” Neteyam groans breathily, his hips rocking as your hand slides up the long, velvety length of him. “Fuck… so good.”
You feel like you’re burning up, your skin sweat-slick and far too hot. The weight of his cock in your hand has your head spinning; you want him inside of you, stretching you wide and fucking you deep. If he fucks as good as he eats pussy, you feel like you’re in for a very good time.
“C’mon,” You breathe, writhing a little. “You– you promised me that you’d.. That you would…”
“Mm, I promised I’d make you feel better than Txetyo ever could,” Neteyam finishes for you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “You like ‘em big and stupid, huh? That’s why they can’t please you, syulang.”
You toss your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as his sharp canines drag over the sensitive skin at the side of your throat. Fuck, maybe he’s right. None of those guys have ever made you feel this good before; you don’t think you’ve ever been this slick and eager in your whole life.
“God, you have such a big head,” You huff, quivering. “Maybe you’re big and stupid too.”
He just laughs at that, a dark chuckle that has your nerves buzzing, and leans down to nip at your shoulder hard enough to make you jerk beneath him. “I am not like Txetyo, or Art’alak, or Pewalsku, or Urtiltey.”
You scoff, before reaching up to push hard at his shoulders. You’re not actually strong enough to shift him, but he pulls back obediently, falling back to lay on his back on the bed. You rise up on your knees then, looming over him as he lays flat.
The way Neteyam is looking up at you, it’s like he’s seeing god. If he could worship you with just a look alone, he is. It’s a little overwhelming, and you feel something deep in your stomach knot just at the sight of him looking at you like that.
“Prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to grip at your hips, guiding you into straddling his lap.
You don’t think anyone has ever talked to you like this, or looked at you like this. You hardly know what to do in the face of his attention, so you revert to what you’re familiar with; you settle yourself against his lap and grind there, feeling the length of his cock glide along the seam of your cunt.
It feels as though your belly has been set alight, and you take a slow breath as you rock against him. His lips drag from the base of your throat up the length of your neck, then he nips gently at the hinge of your jaw. The softness of his breath against the sensitive skin of your throat elicits a shiver from you, and Neteyam’s hands pull you closer when he feels your reaction.
You make a soft sound against his mouth when his fingers clench tight around your hips. His hold on you encourages you to grind down against him. It's not as though you really need the encouragement, but the way his eyes darken as he stares up at you is enough motivation for you to tilt your hips and grind down just like he wants you to.
"Fuck." He breathes, his eyes going half-lidded as he tilts his head back against your bed to watch you move above him.
Heat is growing alarmingly quickly in your lower belly and at the apex of your thighs, and you tremble over Neteyam as you use your grip on his shoulders for leverage. The soft sounds of pleasure that are pulled out of his throat every time you roll yourself against him send sparks through your entire nervous system; it feels as though you just can't get close enough to him.
Your patience runs out, unable to keep up the teasing; Neteyam seems to feel much the same. When you raise yourself up, chest heaving, Neteyam grabs at his cock and holds it still to allow you to settle against it, the head notched against your entrance. He glides over the opening again, pressing in the barest amount. You can already tell it’s going to be a stretch. Neteyam is thick, and you want it in you, want to feel it pressing you open.
You clench around the head of his cock, trying to pull him in, and Neyeyam groans.
“You’re—” He starts to say, his big hands clutching at your hips. “Shit. You’re tighter than I even imagined, paskalin.”
The idea that he might have imagined this is almost more than you can take, and you surge forward to kiss him again, your mouths clashing clumsily.
“You—you thought about it?” You manage to say, your words coming out a little muffled as he sucks at your lower lip.
He just rumbles a laugh, as though your question is ridiculous, and doesn’t even bother answering. Instead he places one hand securely under your ass, the other adjusting himself—there’s a short, sharp burst of pain as you felt him start to push in, just the tip and your head is spinning. Your nails are digging into his shoulders but if he feels anything it doesn’t show.
He kisses your cheek and then pushes in a little deeper as his mouth falls to yours once more—swallowing up your sharp cry as another inch sinks into you, and you feel like you’re splitting open.
Fuck, you feel as though not grabbing lube was probably a mistake; you were too cocky, too confident in your ability to take him, so sure that he’d be as adequately satisfactory as the other Na’vi men you’ve been with.
He goes in and in and in, pressing farther into you than you even thought was possible. The stretch and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him. His mouth is open, each breath escaping him quickly, and you can see your own amazement reflected back to you on Neteyam’s face.
You dig your nails into his shoulders to offset the pain radiating through your core as he shoves himself deeper into you, chased by another wave of warmth as his free hand move between you, thumb settling gently over your clit.
“Ohmygod,” You gasp, pleasure mixing with that burning ache. You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you try to rock your hips against his hand even as you try to ease the feeling of his girth inside you.
“Ungh..” Neteyam groans into you shoulder as he rocks another inch into you, until you’re sobbing and moaning by turns. “Oh. Fuck. Txetyo didn’t deserve this, syulang. Didn’t know what to do with you.”
You whimper in his grip as he just holds you there, buried to the hilt, thumb still working at your clit and sending frissons of electricity up and down your spine.
“Feels good,” You slur. “You feel good.”
Neteyam pulls out half an inch and fucks back into you from below, making your breath hitch. “Yeah?”
“So big,” You gasp. “I-I want—"
“I know, I know. I’ve got you,” Neteyam rumbles, his full lips brushing gentle kisses over your temple, right in your hairline. “Take what you want, lovely girl.”
And you do, rocking your hips and taking one of his enormous hands to pull between your legs so he can continue to rub at your clit with his fingers, so he can feel all the ways you’re leaking onto him as you lean forward to run your own hungry mouth along his collarbone, his pecs, as your hands grip his shoulders to try and lift yourself up and onto him over and over again.
It doesn’t take long for that coil in your belly to swell, sweet and hot. It’s as if Neteyam is intimately familiar with the way you want him to rub your clit, how you want it pinched but only just so between two fingers, as if he’s been taking fucking notes all those times he had walked in and interrupted you. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling and squeezing impossibly tight around him, taut like a violin string.
It’s like Neteyam is puncturing your lungs, and every time he fucks into you, you respond with stupid sounding little ‘ah’ sounds.
“Ah, ah, ah!” You gasp, teary-eyed and desperate. Neteyam’s mouth is parted, his eyes wide. They flick over you quickly, drinking you in as you ride him.
Your movements are slow to build, but gradually you establish a steady, desperate rocking. It doesn't take long for you to realise that grinding in his lap feels better than raising yourself all the way up and down. Distantly, you feel little guilty — you know that grinding and rocking in his lap in the way that you are feels better for you than it does for Neteyam, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's watching you with a rapturous expression, his arms urging you closer so that your sweat-slicked chests are pressed close together and your foreheads are resting against each other.
You find a rhythm that both satisfies and stokes you, riding him with abandon as your thighs clench tight around his narrow hips. Neteyam’s hands slide from your hips down over your lower back, worshipful as they drift lower to clutch at your ass and use his grip there to help lift you up and down.
You ride him with mindless intent. His fingers dig at the meat of your ass, his mouth dropped softly open as he fights to keep his own breaths even — it takes a long moment for you to realise that he's fighting to keep himself still and to stop himself from thrusting wildly into you. His restraint and the realisation that he's really allowing you to have all the power in the exchange strikes you hard. You’ve never felt any real sense of agency in sexual intimacy until now, and the realisation that he's being so considerate of how you’re feeling only contributes to the intensifying of those flutters in your belly.
The rush builds in you, relentless, mounting with every jerk of your hips. There would be no catching your breath until it broke.
You rock on him, hard, hard and fast and there, there it is, that’s it — that perfect deep unfurling. A moan rises from the depths of your chest as you gasp at it, your body trembling. Neteyam just stares up at you, mouth open, eyes gone wide and dark.
The wave crests, the world explodes around you, a kaleidoscope of sensation as you come undone in his arms, trembling even as he keeps sliding home into you. You keep moving over him through the ebb of it, through the helpless little sounds that break from his throat. You’re still shuddering when he reaches up to take a firm hold of your waist. As though he can't help himself, his hips thrust up into you.
“Yes,” Neteyam hisses, his flat nose all scrunched up in a feral sort of pleasure. “That’s my girl.”
You tremble, gasp-moaning as your joints turn to jelly. Your orgasm very slowly gives way to thunderous aftershocks that rocket through your body every few seconds, shuddering your whole frame in intervals.
"Fuck," He groans, his breathing gone ragged. "I'm going to-"
He doesn't even finish his sentence before he seems to lose some of that iron control he's been exerting; his hips jolt up into you, and then again, until he's thrusting up into you with a sense of urgency that's almost breath-taking. All you can do is cling onto his hair and bury your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to muffle the embarrassing little gasping sounds that you’re making into his skin as his fucking into you prolongs the breath-taking pleasure of your orgasm.
You don’t fuss when his big hands use his grip on your ass to lift you up himself, fucking up into you and letting loose. Then he's shaking, stilling, spilling himself inside you, and you watch eagerly as his face goes slack and relaxed.
You don't go still immediately. Your hips keep rolling slow and steady as you tremble against him, chasing that feeling of molten shivery pleasure that's still burning in your belly even as it starts to turn into almost unbearable oversensitivity. It's not a fully conscious movement, as you’re moving mostly on instinct, and after a few moments Neteyam takes a hold of your hips to slow you to a stop.
He stays inside you like this for what feels like an eternity, spent and nestled deep inside you as you sit in his lap, slumped against his large strong chest.
"Oh my god," You whisper eventually as another pleasant shudder jolts down your spine. It feels as though you’ve been kicked in the chest, as though the breath has been knocked out of you entirely to make room for the lovely floaty lightness that's beginning to fill the space between your ribcage”
"Mm." Neteyam hums quietly, his fingers tightening in the soft flesh of your hips as he tilts his chin up to brush his lips over your sweaty temple. "Alright?”
No, You think, with no small amount of panic. You’re absolutely not alright. Neteyam may have just been fucking you to prove a point, because it’s always been so important to him that he’s perfect at everything he tries his hand at, but it feels as though he’s just cracked you wide open. You don’t think anyone will ever make you feel as good as he just did.
When you don’t immediately answer, one of his big palms cups the back of your neck so he can tilt your head back, and he leans down to kiss you again. He sucks your swollen bottom lip into his mouth so he can worry at it while you whine, toes curled where you tucked them under your legs, balanced on his thighs.
"Impressed?” He murmurs into your ear, his warm, dry hands stroking soothingly over your sweat-dampened skin.
You laugh despite yourself, and it comes out breathless and broken. “Fuck. I—yeah. Yeah. I’m impressed. Asshole.”
Neteyam’s expression brightens, his ears twitch back as his smile grows. He leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, then three times in quick succession, and out of the corner of your eye you see his tail coiling lazily against your sheets.
“Feel like I need to lay down,” You say. “For a week maybe.”
Neteyam just chuckles as you slowly lift your hips; when Neteyam slides out of you a soft sound of loss escapes from his mouth. You sympathise — you feel uncomfortably empty now that he's no longer nestled inside of you, but Neteyam is already gathering you into his arms and flopping back onto your mattress with you all curled up ontop of his chest.
It all feels so natural — you’ve never cuddled after intimacy like this, and you never would have imagined that Neteyam would allow you to do this. But it seems like he craves physical touch as badly as you does, because it feels as though his hands are everywhere as he holds you.
"Don't look so pleased with yourself, dickhead." You grumble, though you’re already relaxing under the pleasant warm weight of his hands
Neteyam’s smile only grows. "Why shouldn't I be pleased with myself? Have I left you unsatisfied?
You groan loudly, before burying your face in the pillow. The worst part is that it's true — you’ve never felt so satisfied in your life. You think that you could close your eyes and cheerfully float away on a cloud, but you don't want to suffer the humiliation of admitting that.
“I’m satisfied.” You admit, mortified. “It— yeah. You won that stupid competition. Well done.”
That has exactly the effect you had expected it to have; Neteyam’s chest puffs up where you’re laying across it, his eyes crinkling up as he grins. God, he’s so fucking smug.
You manage to swallow down your embarrassment so that you can ask the question that’s been knocking around your head since the first time he had kissed you.
“Can we… do that again, sometime?” You mutter, keeping your face pressed into his chest so he can’t see the vulnerability on your face.
Neteyam’s chest rumbles in a deep laugh, and his large palm settles between your shoulderblades.
“Whenever you want, yawntutsyìp. We have all the time in the world.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Where ever you want. Here, the forest, my hut in the village—”
You laugh, blinking in surprise at his eagerness. You guess he must be absolutely pussy-whipped right now, which is pretty sweet.
“Next time we mate, we’ll do it in the forest so Txetyo can find us.” He says, and you can feel his teeth against the top of your head when he grins. “Let him watch as I make you scream again.”
"I did not scream!" You snap, embarrassed, reaching to smack at his chest. But then his words actually parse in your head, and you push yourself up quickly on top of his chest so you can look down at him, wincing a little at the ache between your legs.
Neteyam obviously catches your wince because he frowns and one of his hands reaches for your thigh, but you grab at his wrist as you gape at him.
“What the fuck did you just say?” You blurt.
That must have been a slip of his tongue. Every man you’ve been with before has been so damn careful to avoid the term mating, obviously terrified of you somehow getting the wrong idea; they made it painfully clear that it was just fucking, with no strings attached, because you were small and exotic and apparently the tightest thing they’ve ever gotten to put their dicks into.
Neteyam blinks owlishly, as though confused by your response. “What?” He asks, before his face relaxes. “Ah, it’s only the thought of me watching that does it for you?”
“No, it—” You blink at him. “You said… you said next time we… we mate.”
“Yes.” He says, wrapping one big arm around your waist to tug you back to him, as though he doesn’t like the fact that you’re shifting away. “I enjoyed mating here, where I can kiss your face, but it is very...”
He pauses then, and glances around your room. For the first time, you see it through his eyes; it’s small and dingy, the electric lights buzzing and flickering as they run on the ancient generator that Norm and a couple of the other older scientists had dragged from Bridgehead. Even though he’s gotten comfortable cuddling you on your bed, it’s far too small for him; his legs are hanging off the end of it, his feet flat against the floor. Compared to the fantastical natural homes of the Na’vi, your little bedroom seems like a shithole.
“You will be more comfortable in my hut in the village.” Neteyam says decisively, using the arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to his chest again. “I wish to take you in the forest, at Vitrautral, as is tradition.”
“Mating.” You repeat, just to check if you had heard him right. “We—that was mating.”
“Mhmm.” Neteyam’s hum sounds casual enough, but you can see the ridiculously pleased wave of his tail in the air behind him. “I told you that you were wasting time with those skxawngs, but I did not mind waiting for you. I did not like hearing them talk about you, about how you felt and how they pleased you, but… I knew I could prove myself a better prospect than all of them.”
“But—” You’re still struggling with this, staring at him with a bewildered expression. “But it—that was sex. It wasn’t—”
“I will take you to Vitrautral tomorrow, and mate you properly,” Neteyam murmurs, and you feel his big chest rumble beneath you in a pleased purr at the idea. “You do not need any other now. Yes?”
It feels almost too good to be true. Almost. Because damn, you want that so badly that it actually aches. After so many years of craving intimacy of any kind, it seems shockingly unlikely that it’s being offered by Neteyam, the very personification of an Omaticayan golden child. How have you gone from getting fucking in empty corners and deep in the forest to having the Olo’eyktan’s son talk about mating you?
You think of the herbs and plants he always brings to the healing hut, the bones and fibres he forages, the food he brings you after hunts. You had always thought he was just shoving how great he was in your face, but now all of that is starting to rearrange itself inside your head. Was he seriously just trying to impress you?
You laugh a little disbelievingly, and Neteyam’s arm tightens around you.
“I have a necklace,” He murmurs, nuzzling against your forehead. “Made with freshwater pearls from the ocean. I was going to give it to you earlier but—we got distracted. It is in my tewng—”
“Get it later,” You whisper, clinging to his chest. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move, just in case the moment slips away forever. He made you a necklace. Fuck, he made you a necklace! You’ve only ever seen Na’vi mating gifts from a distance; the thought of receiving one is beyond anything you’ve ever imagined.
Neteyam’s chest seems to swell, his expression brightening the moment you cling to him. He hugs you close, his purr now reminiscent of a damn chainsaw as he curls his whole big body around you.
Taking a chance, you do something that you’ve always sort of wanted to do, ever since you found out what it was; you reach behind him and take his kuru in your hand, feeling the thick, glossy protective braid in your fingers.
Neteyam shudders under you, his rumbling purr stuttering a little as his eyelids flitter, his eyes going dark. He doesn’t stop you, watching you with lightly parted lips as your hand closes around the most sacred, sensitive part of him.
“This is okay?” You whisper, your vulnerability clear in your voice.
“Of course,” He whispers back, as though the moment is a soap bubble that could burst at a slightly raised voice. “It is yours, syulang.”
Emboldened, you drag your fist down the glossy braid until you reach the end, where the glowing tendrils that make up the exposed manifestation of his nervous system. The fleshy pink tendrils writhe in the air, and you watch in eager amazement. You’ve only ever seen diagrams of this part of the Na’vi anatomy, and you want so badly to touch it.
“You can play with it all you want,” Neteyam murmurs, and his voice is breathless.
You breathe a laugh, glancing up at him with a little grin. His pupils are blown, his lips parted, his chest heaving. You want to gnaw on his ribs, swallow him whole; he’s so cute.
“I’ll save that for tomorrow,” You whisper, the words ringing like a promise.
Neteyam looks briefly disappointed, before his mood is promptly buoyed at the thought of mating you again at the Tree of Souls, as he had promised you. He buries his face happily in your neck as you pet absently at the protective braid covering his kuru. It’s a non-sexual touch, and yet he goes entirely boneless, purring up a storm as you stroke your hand over it.
“Told you those others could not please you, paskalin,” He murmurs, his words slurring a little as his eyelids flutter with every soft touch to his kuru. “Told you they did not know what to do with you.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the fond smile pulling at your mouth.
“Mm. You did. Guess I needed someone like you, huh? A mighty warrior?” You say, teasing him with that silly little nickname he always called himself when you were a teenager. At the time you had thought he was so annoying, but now, looking back… you’re willing to admit it was pretty adorable.
Neteyam’s drowsy face pulls up in a sweet smile, his flat nose brushing against your collarbones. It seems like he’s pleased you remembered, or maybe he’s pleased that you’re impressed with him.
He kisses your neck, then mumbles sleepily, “The mightiest.”
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sunofpandora · 4 months ago
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OFFICIAL AVATAR 3 ANNOUNCEMENTS
This just in guys, last night on D23, avatar 3 has an official title “fire and ash”
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We are so back guys 🤭💙🩵
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moonlightsolo · 2 years ago
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imagine sleepy neteyam being so clingy and cute 🥹
oooohhhh my god. yes. sleepy neteyam.
he probably stumbles into your marui after a long day of hunting. his eyelids are heavy and droopy, his shoulders are slouched and he is sooooo touchy. his large hands grip your soft flesh, pulling you into him as stands behind you.
his eyes would rake over your crouched position in front of the fire as you prepare food— but he’ll continue to pinch your sides and knead at your back like a cat. “stop, ‘teyam. i’m making you dinner.” you’ll say, but he doesn’t relent.
he’ll groggily drag you upwards to stand you to your feet, groaning from his tired muscles, “you’re really makin’ me do all the hard work, right now?” his voice is deeper than usual, and hoarse. the sound makes your belly erupt in butterflies.
you’ll finally give in, turning around to look up at your mate. “you’re so sleepy, my love. why don’t i get you to bed?” you gently push him backward toward your shared hammock. he obliges, and stumbles backward as you lead him to it. but not without a goofy lil smirk on his face.
he’ll sit down on the edge and tugs you by your hips to stand between his parted knees. he’ll lean forward to press soft kisses against your abdomen, while his hands grip the flesh of your uppers thighs. “come to bed with me. ‘jus wanna cuddle.” he tiredly murmurs against your warm skin. his tail will coil around your leg, urging you to come to bed with him.
the feeling of his hands gripping you, and the heat of his lips leaving kisses along your skin weakens your tough demeanor, “but the food…”
“‘m not hungry. i want you.”
his words make your lips part slightly. who could say no to that???? so obviously you do the logical thing— you put out the fire and crawl right into bed with him, letting him lay on your chest as your hand runs over his braids.
after a few soft kisses, he’ll instantly be out, slightly snoring and drooling on you…but you couldn’t care less. you have the man of your dreams in your arms.
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nqify · 2 years ago
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ok, then here we go!
how about jake sully during heat? and maybe he not only can't keep his hands off of you, but when he's not touching you he can't help but jerk off right in front of you.
maybe he's just so unbearably horny that he starts to hump his pillows, the grass, your leg, his hands, or even touch himself during important meeting and has to be excused.
like he's just a needy soft!dom who is feverishly grinding on everything or tugging his thick cock in thoughts of you; poor bby can't even stop it 🥺🤭
had to make my first Jake sully fic with ur request ofc!!! AHHH!! this is so good!!!
heat. — jake sully ☆
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Jake sully is the definition of needy!soft dom!! especially during heat!! this MF will find any excuse just to fuck you, like omg!! it’s a full moon we must fuck, or he made food without burning himself we must fuck!! he’s just so needy!!
so when his heat rolls around, omg get ready to be fucked and touch every single day. oh this fucker can not keep his hands off you.
lets just say, Jake starts to feel his heat coming on in an important meeting. during this meeting the only thing he could focus on was you, he’d be eye fucking you from across the room!!
his gaze was dark and lustful, his eyes were hooded and covered with little strings of hair. girl u are fucked!! you’d noticed, his posture straighten up, his arms all big and strong and his cock aching for you!! he will try everything and anything to get out of there. “baby, i need you now”
and now ur back is arched, pillow underneath you while jakes hands were gripping ur hips!! “f-fuck, pretty, this pussy f-feels so good!!”
this man would 100% get pussy drunk while he’s on heat. he’d be eating your pussy, tongue swirling around your clit while his fingers were spreading you out, “gimme more baby, want more of ur pussy, fuck so pretty for me” he loves u omg!! “such a pretty pussy baby, just for me right?? only me?? for daddy mm??” you’d be nodding, “wanna hear u say it, say this pretty pussy is mine, cmon, needa hear it” pussy is aching!!!
sometimes you’d be away from him, hunting for food or travelling with friends. you’d come home to this fucker humping the pillow, he’d be grinding, head thrown back while whines escaped his throat. “j-Jake??” this MF does not stop, he just looks at you and smirks, “aaahh, baby, daddy needs some help, you can help him right?? cmon be a good girl for me”
or whenever your away too long and you guys finally get into it, this fucker is so needy!! he’d be jerking off on top of you, “f-fuck needa cum, needa cum shit” but omg he was so hot. stroking his cock up and down to the sight of you?? pussy WET!!! “look at you baby, u want my cum?? u want daddy’s cum to make a mess of ur pussy?? yeah??”
now when he’s in heat bf will only do doggy style and missionary. he needs to have control over you when he’s in heat, or he’ll explode. this dude will have ur back arched and ur legs spread wide, gripping into ur tail for deeper thrusts.
“mmm, fuck pretty, look at this pussy, u need my cock don’t you?? u want daddy’s big cock to fill u up huh?” ur whining like PLS HELLO?? in doggy style this fucker is going deep!! like reaching every inch of u. bro is def hitting ur cervix. “yeah baby?? that feel good?? u like when daddy touches ur little special spot huh?”
now for missionary, oh boy. his veiny hand would be gripping your neck while the other was holding your waist. he’s pounding into you with everything that he’s got, “mmmm, my pretty girl likes this right?? fuck ur such a dirty slut for liking this” oh BOY!! “j-Jake!! need ur cum!!, pls fill me up daddy”
HELLO!! Breeding kink while on heat?? YEPYEP!! “yeah baby?? u want daddy’s cum? u want him to make u all full and stuffed right? yeah I can do that baby, just keep being a good girl for me” and oh my god HIS LOAD is THICK AND HEAVY!!! you could feel it in you and lord DO U LOVE IT!! and when he would see it pour out, “oh no baby, i gotta keep it in so u can have my babies!!” he’d just fuck it into you.
this dude has to be messy, spit and cum everywhere!!! you want a kiss? messy asf. he’s eating you out? messy asf. fucking ur pussy, MESSY ASF!! DEF has a spit kink!!!!!!
“cmon baby, open ur mouth for me, yeah that’s it, good girl” and BOOM SPIT!! cuz he’s on heat he feels some kind of control making you a mess
your drooling EVERYWHERE!!! and he’d make fun of u!!! “awe look at you, such a fucking whore and can’t keep herself clean can she?? she likes when daddy makes her all messy and dumb doesn’t she mm??” ur nodding bc DUH?? “uh uh babygirl, say it, say ur my dumb little slut” GIRL!!!!! “I-I’m ur dumb little s-slut!!” HSHFNJS
and ofc!!! when u guys are done he’d still keep his cock in you!! he loves having you so close, cock warming is def his fav thing to do. “baby, u still feel so warm” and omg “I love this pussy so so much”
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strongheartneteyam · 11 months ago
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A New Beginning.
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader/female!avatar!reader
cw: lots of fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, slightly sexual language, kissing, hugging, tsaheylu is mentioned, TRIGGER WARNING for brief talk of death (of Reader's human body), Jake and Neytiri being the best in-laws ever
@anika-rose-walker Here's your request after ages lol I'm so sorry, boo 😅
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I changed the plot from what you asked a little bit (Neteyam and Reader are already together, instead of confessing to each other throughout the story) bc I had already written the beginning of it when I went back and read the rest of your request lol I hope you don't mind. I love you sm and I hope you like it, my lovely Kayla 💕
PS: in this story, going through a transference of consciousness from a human body to an Avatar is not as dangerous as it used to be because it has been done many times before. I have no idea if it makes sense but pls just go with it for the sake of it being easier to write 🥲 my wrist hurts so bad 
na'vi words: tsaheylu (neural bond that the na'vi make with their mate), yawne (beloved), yawntu (loved one), paskalin (sweet berry), muntxate (female mate), muntxatan (male mate), oeyä (my, mine), sevin (pretty), tawtute (human)
Not proofread. Sorry if some parts are a bit off but I can't fix it rn lol
༉‧₊.
The suns of Pandora were shining bright in the sky that day but nothing was brighter than your smile. You were overcome with happiness as what you had been anticipating for so long was finally gonna happen: you were getting your own Avatar, a body that would let you experience Pandora without that damn oxygen mask that held you back, not letting you breathe the fresh air and worse, not letting you kiss your na'vi boyfriend Neteyam unless you two were inside the lab. You were the daughter of one of the best scientists of the laboratory so you always spent a lot of your time there, but Neteyam was a busy young man and he couldn't visit you at the lab everyday which sucked. You were so addicted to him that spending even a single day without feeling his plump blue lips on yours, his soft and wet tongue lapping and sucking on your tongue felt like a kick in the stomach. You truly felt lovesick whenever it happened. Talk about a strong love and being needy for someone.
You were walking through the Omatikaya mainland, where all the people's huts were, and looking for your boyfriend. You hadn't told him you were gonna get an Avatar. You wanted it to be a surprise. Your brain could not comprehend that you would finally be able to make tsaheylu with Neteyam. Tsaheylu, man! Imagining being able to feel his affection for you through the bond, his need and desire, feel the pleasure he was feeling as the two of you mate… that felt otherworldly and so incredibly exciting. It's a connection beyond what your human brain could comprehend, honestly. Only your na'vi brain would be able to fully understand it.
Neteyam ended up finding you before you could find him. There was a sea of tall blue aliens around.
“Sevin tawtute!” He called out to you loudly, his voice excited 
When your ears heard that beautiful voice and your eyes saw his large figure, you ran to his arms and held him tight, your head only reaching his waist, so much taller he was than your human frame. You wondered the height difference you two would have once you were Dreamwalking.
“Oooh! I'm glad you're this happy to see me, muntxate!” Neteyam put his big hands on your head and pet your hair softly.
“Teyam, I got something wonderful to tell you!” You looked at him, as happy as a kid who just got a gift they'd been waiting for ages to get
Neteyam got down on his knees to cut your height difference almost in half.
“What is it?” He smiled, his fangs charmingly touching his lower lip
“My father just told me earlier today that my Avatar is ready.” Your eyes shone like stars in a dark night sky 
“Your what?!” His striped blue face betrayed his surprise
Neteyam's heart started beating fast. Was his yawne truly telling you what he thought she was?
“Are you serious, princess? Why didn't you tell me about it? My Eywa…” he chuckled, still incredulous 
“I wanted it to be a surprise! I wanted to see this beautiful surprised look on your face, muntxatan.” You look so cute. I love you so much.” Your eyes started to water
Neteyam smiled even wider. He took your oxygen mask off and quickly used both his large hands to grab your face and crushed his lips against yours, before putting it back on again.
❦︎
You opened your eyes and your vision seemed to be better as you tried to get used to the bright white artificial lights of the Avatar first testing room in the lab.
“How are you feeling, (y/n)?” Your hearing was surely much sharper as you heard those words coming from a nurse's lips in a much louder volume than you would in your human body. 
You moved your fingers and raised your hands up next to your face so you could look at them. Your fingers were blue and your wrist had some bioluminescent freckles on it. God, your skin looked much more beautiful now than it did in your human body. You were afraid you were already liking this body much more than your original one.
Your focus was so much on your new experience in your Avatar that you forgot to answer Julia's - the nurse - question.
“Can you hear me, (y/n)?” You got out of your trance and finally looked at her 
“Yes. Yes, I can! Really well, by the way.” You smiled at her. Your fangs touching your lip was a new sensation, a really cool one.
After the scientists and nurses ran some tests with you on your new Avatar, you finally were able to change from your hospital like clothes and went out of that cold room wearing some dark jeans shorts and a simple white sleeveless shirt made of a cotton like material.
You saw Neteyam sitting in one of the brown sofas in the next room. His beautiful face looked tense.
All his tension faded away as soon as he saw you. His pretty yellow eyes shone as he took your appearance in. Neteyam didn't think he could ever fall even deeper in love with you but that had just happened.
“Oeyä muntxate… you look breathtaking. Oeyä sevin yawne…” he walked slowly towards you, still enchanted by the sight of your Avatar body
Neteyam held you by your waist, bring you close to him and gave you the most tender of kisses. You kissed him back, your lips almost trembling with happiness and affection. Neteyam tasted your mouth, his tongue licking not only your tongue but your fangs too, exploring your new na'vi body. He loved how similar you were to him now just as much as he loved the differences between the both of you when you were in your human form.
❦︎
Some weeks passed and you had never been more happy. A short period of time lived being able to Dreamwalk and kiss Neteyam in the woods, on the Sully's hut and in any other place you wished to brought you much more joy than all the years you lived before.
You and Neteyam were standing in front of the lab. You two were about to say goodbye and you would wake up in your human body. But there was a feeling inside of you that you had been haunted by for some time now and it was getting harder and harder to fight it. You finally spilled it out.
“I think I wanna leave my human life behind and become one of the people. If they will have me. If you will have me…” somehow you felt insecure, as if you forgot how happy Neteyam got whenever you were by his side
Surprise was all over his face.
“Are you sure of what you're saying?”
“Yes, I am. I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I know it seems sudden… I'm tired of being human… I'd much rather be your mate and learn archery, learn to cook na'vi recipes, worship Eywa, participate in the sacred rituals, run free in the woods instead of worrying about human social rules, live among artificial lights, eat junk food - don't get me wrong, you know I love some good hamburgers” Neteyam laughed at your remark “but fresh hunted meat, seasoned with herbs and wild spices tastes much better. Also…” You looked into his large feline eyes “I wanna spend more time with you, I wanna live in our own hut… I wanna be always by your side, my Teyam. I hope you don't find me too needy.”
“Of course not, yawntu. The more you need me, the better ‘cause I need you too. So much.”
He stole a happy smile from you with those words.
“And, yawne… How could you ever doubt if I will have you be na'vi and always be with me, live in our own hut? Darling, that's all I've ever wanted. Only Eywa knows how many nights I've talked to her, wishing that it could happen one day.” His voice was full of heartfelt truth
You breathed out, relieved.
“We can talk to my dad about it. He's been through it himself before, I'm sure he can be of great help.”
You nodded and smiled “Okay.”
❦︎
After Neteyam took you to talk to the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya tribe, his dad Jake, his tired face lit up and he smiled, showing no teeth or fangs at first.
“You sure of it, kid? It's a big deal. Your human body is gonna die and that can be really traumatizing to your head."
“I know, Mr Sully. I've thought about that. I can deal with it if it means getting to live as one of the people forever.” You said sternly 
“You're also gonna make a big commitment by becoming na'vi. You're gonna have to learn to use weapons, to hunt, to be fearless. You're gonna have to prove yourself worthy and go through your Ikinimaya before being truly considered one of the people. Are you up for it?” He looked like a mix of a father giving some life lessons to his kids, like a military chief of some kind and like a fierce leader. All three were indeed a part of him.
“Yes. I will do my best to prove myself worthy of becoming na'vi.”
Neteyam watched the two of you, some tension inside of him, as he felt like maybe his father was being too harsh on you, but he also knew he was doing what he had to as the Olo'eyktan and as someone who had once made the same decision you were making now and knew very well what he was talking about.
“Then you have all my support!” Jake finally smiled wide and opened his arms towards you “give me a hug, kid.”
You gladly walked until you got to where he was squatting - not that far from where you were sitting cross legged before - and hugged your father-in-law.
Neteyam smiled too.
“Thank you, Dad.”
When it came the time to talk to Neytiri, things went smoother than you had imagined. It seemed like a dream, in all honesty.
“You do whatever your heart tells you to do, paskalin.” Neytiri smiled at you “I believe Eywa herself chooses every human who decides to become one of the people. How could you say “no” to a request coming from the Great Mother?”
Your brain could not come up with words to describe how happy and relieved those words coming from your mother-in-law made you.
❦︎
Talking to your dad broke your heart a little. Your mother had died and you were his only family now.
“I just don't wanna lose my little girl.” Your dad was now sniffing. You felt bad as you never saw him cry.
“I'm not leaving you, Dad! I'm gonna visit you all the time! You're always gonna be my Dad. And you can always visit me when you have some free time, too.” You tried to comfort him by holding his hand as the both of you sit in your bed, in your bedroom
“I know. It's just not gonna be the same. And I'm gonna miss your beautiful human body. I'm gonna miss the girl I've raised since she was a little child.” You felt a stab in your heart. You honestly had not thought how much of a shock it would be to your dad to see your human body die. You felt a little selfish.
“She's still gonna be here.” You touched the place where your heart was, inside your chest “My soul will not change. I'm still gonna be me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to convince him of that
“I know. I just want you to be happy and if that's how you're gonna find your true happiness, I'd never try to be on your away.”
“Thank you, dad. I love you.” You hugged him and he felt a little better
You eventually broke the hug.
“I want you to come to my transferring of consciousness ceremony. Can you try and find some time on your busy scientist schedule to come and see your daughter wake up in her new body?”
“I wouldn't miss it for the world!” He gave you a supportive smile
The next step would be your transferring of consciousness ceremony. Mo'at seemed utterly happy to perform it. She wasn't that affectionate but you could read her feelings in her big amber eyes.
That night you slept in peace, knowing that the next time you would go to sleep again, you would be in your then permanent na'vi body and inside Neteyam's arms, your mate, the love of your life, probably making tsaheylu, as connected as you two could ever be. As one.
Taglist:
@criticallybella
@yeosxxx
827 notes · View notes
vampsywrites · 1 year ago
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just a scratch
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synopsis: while out on in the forest, you were busy foraging for healing herbs. everything was going well until you ended up getting hurt. and despite your best efforts to conceal and downplay your wounds, you end up failing miserably once you faint right in front of the entire clan.
characters: tarsem, tsu'tey + son! spider, aged up! neteyam, aged up! ao'nung x reader (all seperate)
tags: tsahik! na'vi! reader, hurt/comfort, warnings for blood, injuries, cuts, fainting, self-indulgent prompt, arguments, brief mentions of past trauma (tsu'tey), really overprotective mates, possibly ooc
son spider best spider, neteyam is about to have a stroke bc of his stubborn ass mate, ao'nung is an annoying shit but he's your annoying shit.
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It was just a scratch.
A faint trail of blood marked a delicate line across the expanse of your torso, a disquieting contrast against your azure skin. A burning sensation flared up on your sides and yet, in spite of it, you pushed yourself off of the tree's trunk, grabbed your basket of herbs and trudged back towards your village.
At your sudden movement, the scratch stung harder, sending a searing hot, white pain up your torso. Gritting your teeth, you bit back a hiss of pain.
You were fine. It was fine. You had probably just pulled it when you stood up.
As you approach the village, you notice how a few of your people turn and gasp at your state. A cool shiver ran up your spine as you drop your gaze—Was it that bad?
Then comes a startling onslaught of dizziness that engulfs your consciousness. Before you could comprehend what was happening, your cheek meets the coarse texture of the earth beneath you, a jarring impact that sends your basket tumbling from your grasp. With a grunt, you strain your head up to see the herbal leaves scatter about.
As you fall, a wave of panic ripples through the crowd. Faintly, you register multiple pairs of hands coming to your aid, hoisting your limp body onto a woven mat.
"Call for the Olo'eyktan!"
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TARSEM
"If we strike from here, the trees will provide us with ample cover," Tarsem remarked, his fingers gliding across the aged parchment of the map, tracing the landscapes with a keen eye.
Warriors and spotters encircled the table, their gazes fixed on his every move, minds soaking in every detail of the strategy unfolding before them. It was due time they began planning for their next attack on the RDA bases, it had been months since then.
Before the next words could be uttered, the room was thrust into chaos as a young girl burst through the door, her arrival punctuated by ragged breaths and a wild panic etched across her face. The warriors instinctively parted, creating a path through the sea of bodies, granting her passage toward Tarsem.
"Ma Olo'eyktan!" she panted, her voice trembling as she clutched his forearms tightly. "The Tsahìk was discovered unconscious deep in the forest. The healers are calling for you!"
"What?" Tarsem's expression tightened, a flicker of worry crossing his eyes. He swiftly surveyed the assembled warriors and spotters, his tone strung but composed as he addressed them.
"Continue the preparations," he commanded. "But be ready to adapt the plan if necessary. I will go and check on my mate. Until I return, Osek, you will be in charge."
Osek, a respected warrior renowned for his leadership abilities, nodded with a solemn expression. The rest of the group echoed their understanding, their voices hushed with concern. With the meeting taken care of, Tarsem turned his attention back to the young girl.
"Take me to her," he murmured, ears flat against his head as his posture turned rigid.
The young healer, with her face flushed and brows furrowed, nodded. Taking his hand, she began to lead Tarsem out of the tent, her steps matching his swift pace as they traversed the winding paths of the settlement.
As they ventured closer to the outskirts of the settlement, the ambient noises of the bustling camp faded away, replaced by the serene symphony of nature. Approaching the clearing where you had been laid to rest, Tarsem's steps grew cautious as he gently parted through the small crowd of healers, making his way towards your side.
"Ma'yawne," he whispered, his voice affectionate yet worried at the same time. The Na'vi knelt down beside you, brushing your damp hair away from your face. His gaze, a pool of tenderness, drank in the sight of you lying on the woven mat.
"What has happened?" Tarsem questioned those around you, only for them to shrug. They were just as clueless as he was.
Tarsem sighed, his frown deepening as he took in your appearance once more, noting the dizziness in your eyes and the pallor on your cheeks. However, it was the deep, crimson gash marring your side that captured his attention the most—a wound he guessed was inflicted by either a sharp branch or an encounter with Pandora's many wild animals.
"I…I am alright," you murmured, your voice a fragile reassurance, as you ran a hand over the wound, hissing at the touch. "It is not as deep as it seems. A few bandages will suffice. Return to your duties. The warriors need you."
"Nonsense," Tarsem shook his head, moving to tuck his arms beneath your back and knees. "I cannot leave you like this," he insisted, his voice firm yet gentle. "Your well-being is of utmost importance. The meeting can wait. Right now, you need proper care."
The look in Tarsem's eyes left no room for argument, reaffirming that his mind was made up.
Heaving a sigh, you gave in and nestled into his embrace, placing your weary head atop his chest, finding solace in the rhythmic beat of his heart. With ease, Tarsem carefully stood up with you in his arms, cradling you against his chest. Your mate began carrying you back towards the settlement, calling out for a few of the more experienced healers to follow along.
Once you had arrived in your shared kelku, he set you atop a hammock, staying close to your side but making sure to clear the way for the healers who would attend to you.
Turning your head back, you smiled up at him. "Thank you, Tarsem."
Tarsem simply hummed and lowered his head, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of your temple, lips a feather-light caress against your skin.
"Of course, yawne," he murmured, his voice a hushed vow. "I will always be here for you."
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NETEYAM
"Kiri, it's nothing," you sighed, pushing yourself off the hammock, arms trembling. "I swear to you, I feel much better now."
Kiri clicked her tongue disapprovingly, shaking her head as she pushed you back down. "I am not even finished with your bandages, and the healing paste hasn't taken effect yet. You must rest, tsmuke."
You wrenched a hand into your disheveled hair as you let out a frustrated sigh.
"The herbs I gathered earlier—moonflower, healing rose—they're all gone, they lay wasted on the ground," you lamented. "We need to restock our supplies before the ambush in two days. It's absolutely crucial. Without fresh provisions, we'll be ill-equipp—"
"I will have the trainees gather the herbs, and I will inform Neteyam about your injury so you can rest easy. I am very sure he will understand," Kiri interrupted your rambling, her tone firm as she began wrapping bandages over your torso. At the mention of your mate's name, a pang of apprehension shot through you.
Oh Eywa, how would Neteyam react? He was already so protective of you, and this injury would no doubt only amplify his vigilance. You won't be able to leave the house for a month without him tailing after you like a second shadow.
"There's no need to involve Neteyam," you hurriedly interjected, forcefully pushing Kiri aside as you mustered the strength to stand on your feet, despite the pain. "I'm fine."
Before you could take another step, the tent curtains were abruptly thrown open, and a figure rushed in. A pair of amber eyes widened with concern as they locked onto your limping form.
Neteyam.
As he approached, his typically composed and reserved expression cracked, revealing the deep worry etched on his face.
It seemed like he ran all the way here. The Na'vi was in a frantic haste, sweat cascading down his furrowed brows while beads of perspiration clung to his jawline.
"By Eywa, what happened?" Neteyam's voice quivered with panic as he reached out, hands trembling slightly while he steadied you.
You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but the pain coursing through your body made it difficult. "Neteyam, I… I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice strained.
"No, you are not fine." Neteyam's distress was palpable, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. "Look at you!"
Now he could properly see the swelling and gash on your torso, haphazardly covered by the unfinished leaf bandages clinging to your skin. A surge of horror washed over his face as he beheld the sight, eyes blowing wide open. Quickly, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to conceal the extent of your injury.
"'Teyam," you attempted to calm him, shaking off his iron grip. "It's not as bad as it looks. It's just a scratch."
"A scratch?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "What are you talking about, syulang? That is no a scratch. Why are you even up? You need to rest."
"I have responsibilities to fulfill, Neteyam," you huffed, stomping your feet in frustration, your actions mirroring those of a stubborn child. "You, of all people, should understand that."
Neteyam's tail lashed by his feet, a clear warning tinged with a touch of anger. Protective instincts, ingrained deep within, surged forth like a tempestuous storm.
"Do not argue with me," Neteyam's voice turned firm, his tone low. "I understand your position as Tsahìk is demanding, but this stubbornness will not aid your recovery. Do you really think you can heal in such a state?"
His stern words struck you hard, causing you to flinch involuntarily. The weight of his concerns settled heavily upon your heart, and yet your unwavering determination refused to give in to his protectiveness.
"I know why you're worried," you sighed, gently placing a hand over his chest, hoping to soothe him. "But I cannot remain here while important tasks await me. There is work to be done!"
Neteyam heaved a sigh, pushing you back down. His hands, roughened by countless battles, reached out to tenderly cradle your face. With a gentle motion, his thumb traced delicate circles onto your cheeks, the soothing caress speaking volumes of his love. His intense gaze then softened, those golden eyes losing their fiery edge as he allowed his anger to dissipate.
"I know you have an unwavering sense of duty, sevin," Neteyam murmured, the endearment rolling off his tongue like silk, a term reserved only for you. "And I love that about you. But sometimes, the best course of action is to prioritize your own well-being," he continued, peering deep into your eyes.
His warm, tender affections began to gradually chip away at the walls of your stubborn resolve. Though you initially resisted, deep down, you couldn't deny the truth in his words. Neteyam always knew how to get you to back down.
A bitter sigh slipped from your lips, laced with a hint of snark that thinly veiled the vulnerability simmering beneath.
"I hate admitting defeat," you grumbled, your tone tinged with reluctance, "But fine, you win. I'll rest."
As your words reached his ears, the corners of Neteyam's mouth curved into a grin, a blend of relief and amusement dancing in his eyes. In that moment, he couldn't resist the urge to draw closer, resting his large hands on your waist as he leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips.
"Thank you, yawne," he chuckled softly.
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TSU'TEY
(context: spider is your adopted son; although i decided to hint at him being an avatar in this scenario, you may also choose to perceive him as human instead.)
"Call for the Olo'eyktan!"
As you lay upon the bark floors of the Hometree, your mind spun, dots of black tainting your vision. With a low whimper, you attempted to raise yourself from the ground, only for a pair of hands to push down on your shoulder. You watched as your son's face came into view, twisted into a panicked expression as he took in your injury.
"Ma? Hey, hey, stay with me," Spider rasped, tenderly running his hand over your damp forehead. Eyes narrowing, you found yourself struggling to focus on his face, barely catching the look of worry in his eyes, and the lines of fear etched on his brow.
"Spider…" you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible. "I-It's okay. I can get up."
He shook his head, his grip on your shoulder tightening. "No, Ma, you need help. You can't push through this on your own."
You wanted to protest, to insist that you should be able to endure such trivial injuries, but your body betrayed you, the pain overwhelming and disorienting. As a healer, unlike your son and mate who were seasoned warriors, you weren't used to such levels of pain.
The stinging on your torso intensified with each shallow breath, making it difficult to form coherent thoughts or speak. Noticing your distress, Spider hurriedly reached a hand up to his communication device, paging for his father.
"Dad? You there?" Spider's voice cracked, laden with worry. "It's an emergency."
A familiar voice crackled through the communication device, filled with concern. Tsu'tey spoke, the rush of wind howling in the background. He must have been out on a ride with his ikran. "Ma'Itan, what has happened? Is everything alright?"
Spider's voice trembled as he responded, his distress palpable. "No, Dad, it's not alright. Mom is hurt. She fainted while gathering herbs, and she's in pain. There's a gash on her side. I…I don't know what to do."
Tsu'tey's heart plummeted, his entire being consumed by an overwhelming fear that gripped him to the core, seeping into the depths of his being. Reacting swiftly, his grip tightened on the reins of his Ikran, abruptly pivoting its course back toward Hometree. In the midst of his panic, he nearly forgot to respond.
After a momentary silence, his voice broke through, steady but laced with urgency. "I am on my way. Just keep her stable."
Spider nodded, ending connection before he moved to cradle your head in his hands. "Hang in there, Ma. Dad is coming. Just hold on a little longer."
As your consciousness wavered, the world around you seemed blurred and distant. Tremors of pain pulsed through your body, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on your son's voice. Soon enough, your strength fails you, and your eyelids grow heavy. Everything around you fades away, and your consciousness slips into oblivion.
.
As you gradually regain consciousness, the world before you seemed shrouded in a haze, the remnants of your unconscious state still clinging to your senses. Blinking away the drowsiness, you found yourself within the confines of a dimly lit tent, its earthy aroma intermingling with the soft flickering glow of a nearby fire.
"Tsmuke," Neytiri says softly, her voice filled with both relief and worry. The tenderness in her voice offering you solace, like a soothing melody in your ears.
"Thank Eywa," she grins, running her hand up your cheek. "Do not worry; you are safe now."
Before you could respond, a firm arm wraps around your center, tugging you into a sitting position. Spider frantically pulls you up and into his tight embrace, face twisted in relief as he sighed deeply. "Hey, Ma. I'm so glad you're awake."
"My brave boy," you hummed, a bittersweet warmth erupting in your chest as you pressed a tender kiss on his forehead. The familiar scent of the forest clung to him—a reminder of his untamed spirit as a warrior who roamed the jungles with no fear.
At that moment, your gaze shifted to Tsu'tey, who anxiously hovered by the entrance, tail whipping by his feet. Sensing the tension in the air, Neytiri quietly left the healing tent, granting you a moment of privacy. With her departure, Tsu'tey finally lifts his head and catches your gaze, taking it as a sign to approach you.
"Yawne," He calls out for you, his voice trembling like the leaves of a quivering tree. It's a plea and a rebuke, all at once, his tone a blend of protectiveness and affection.
Spider then releases you from his hug, allowing his father to take his place. Tsu'tey kneels down and moves to hold you, embracing you so tight that it was as if he was trying to merge your souls together, desperate to ensure your safety.
"What were you thinking?" Tsu'tey grumbles into your hair, "I have told you many times to never venture out into the forests alone. You know better than to endanger yourself."
Sighing, you leaned into the embrace of your mate, finding comfort in his presence. Your cheek finds rest against Tsu'tey's collarbones, the rough texture of his beaded necklace grounding you in the familiarity of his touch.
"I did not know the cut was that bad. I had a lot of work to attend to, so I thought I could handle it," you admitted, your voice weary.
As you nestled against him, Tsu'tey found his anger melting into something warmer, something softer. He draws you back slightly, hands cupping the sides of your face as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice now a caress against your skin.
"I know your work is important to you," he grunts. "But you must prioritize your safety."
"Tsu'tey—" you started, only to be interrupted.
"I cannot bear the thought of losing you. I have lost too much over the years," Tsu'tey took a moment to pause, his gaze searching the depths of your eyes for understanding. He needed you to understand. "This cannot go on like this. You must promise me that you will be more careful."
The vulnerability in his voice tugged at your heartstrings. A wave of guilt washed over you as you realized the fear you had awakened within him, causing old scars of his to resurface. With a sigh, you closed your eyes.
"I did not mean to frighten you. I will stay safer. I promise," you muttered, moving away from his embrace. "But things like this are inevitable. There will be times when you and Spider won't be by my side to protect me."
Tsu'tey and Spider exchanged glances, their expressions filled with concern. Without uttering a word, Tsu'tey enveloped both you and Spider in an embrace.
"We will come for you," he declared firmly. "No matter what. When you need us, we will be there."
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AO'NUNG
As your consciousness flickered in and out, you became vaguely aware of the commotion around you. The panicked voices of your clan members and the urgent footsteps only added to your disorientation. And yet, amidst the chaos, a singular phrase pierced through the fog of your mind with an undeniable clarity.
"Call for the Olo'eyktan!"
That sent a chill down your spine, and you knew that the situation had escalated beyond your control. With great effort, you managed to open your eyes, the vibrant blue hues of the sky and the crashing waves on the shore seeping into your vision in strained fragments.
It did not take long for, Ao'nung to arrive. He emerged from beneath the waves, propelled by his skimwing beneath him. A frown was etched onto his face as he waded through the shallow waters, gliding across the waves with unmistakable urgency.
Upon reaching the shores, he swiftly dismounted from his skimwing, leaping onto the sand with ease. Pushing through the growing crowd that had gathered around you, he cleared a path to reach your side.
Lifting you off of the mat, he cradled you against his chest. "Yawntu?" Ao'nung's voice cut through the haze of your mind, "Are you alright? Can you hear me?"
With utmost care, your mate then shifted your body to the side, his gaze fixated on the deep cut marring your torso. The gash, painted in a vivid crimson, created a sharp contrast against the mesmerizing azure of your skin. The sight of it made his jaw tense, frustration evident.
"I-It is just a minor wound," you managed to utter through gritted teeth, your mind clearing as pain began to pulse through your body.
"Tsireya has already been called...She will help, but for now, I need your help in cleansing this," you murmur, gesturing to your bloodied side.
With a disgruntled nod, Ao'nung hoisted you into his arms and ordered the crowd to disperse. Once the people had departed, he began to take steady strides towards the water.
As the water levels reached the height of his chest, he shifted his position to support your head in the dip of his arm, allowing most of your body to be submerged beneath the rocking waves.
"I knew I should have come with you," he sighed, his voice barely heard above the salty swirling winds.
After a few seconds of struggling to find your voice, you managed to respond, though the words emerged with a subtle undertone of discomfort. "'Nung, it's only a cut…I think I just scraped myself along against a tree."
"Ah, yes, just a scrape against a tree," Ao'nung scoffed wryly, his mouth curling into a mocking sneer as his fangs peeked out from his lips. "I didn't know trees had razor sharp branches."
Cupping water in his hand, Ao'nung began to wash the upper parts of your cut that wasn't submerged. As the sting of saltwater made contact with the rest of your open wound, a sharp hiss of pain escaped your lips. This caused him to furrow his brow, concern swimming in those looming teal eyes.
"The pain seems to suggest otherwise," he noted, a heavy dose of sarcasm dripping from his lips.
"Funny," you replied, rolling your eyes in response.
Despite his biting remarks, his actions betrayed him, revealing a tenderness beneath that arrogant façade. His fingers moved with an uncharacteristic grace, tracing the contours of your cut as he delicately cleansed it, each touch a testament to his natural instincts as a mate to alleviate your discomfort.
It was a softness that you had grown accustomed to, but you knew that if any of the warriors caught a glimpse of their rugged chief in such a nurturing and affectionate state, their jaws would hit the ground so hard, you'd think Eywa herself had caused an earthquake.
As Ao'nung tended to your wound, he used his other hand to gently turn your head, guiding your gaze to meet his. Confused, you raised your brow. "Yes? What is it?"
"I will accompany you to your forages from now on. And I will not take no for an answer," he declared, his voice flat and void of any mirth.
And there it was.
"Ma Ao'nung," you cooed, your voice a velvety caress that was laden with both affection and understanding. "You worry too much about me. I am not as fragile as sea glass, you know."
A flicker of raw emotion danced across his irises, momentarily unraveling his stoic guise before he swiftly masked it with a dismissive scoff. "You should know by now that I won't let anything happen to you," he grumbled, ears tucked back as he meets your eyes.
"You may not be as fragile as sea glass, but you are precious to me," he says, voice a gravelly murmur. "I know you're strong, but that doesn't mean I will stop worrying."
With an amused click of your tongue, you leaned back against him, enveloped in the comforting warmth of his embrace. The gentle lapping of the ocean against your skin provided a soothing respite, easing your troubles away as you allowed him to dote on you.
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yawne - beloved
syulang - flower
tsmuke - sister
yawntu - beloved one/loved one
sevin - pretty
kelku - house
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d0llcuries · 30 days ago
Note
HIIII 🫶 i wanted to ask if i could request a neteyam x omatikaya readerrr where she’s caring for him while he’s healing from the bullet so it’s like just a bit after the war (bc in my head he didn’t die 😔😔😔) and she’s checking up on him making sure he’s okay distracting him from pain/the situation hopefully that makes some sense just some cute stuff like that hehe. (im delusional 💓)
THANKS BABE
KISS YOU BETTER
pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader
summary: healing is a process. a slow, lonely and frightful one. you do what you can to be there for him, forever thankful to eywa that he still has breath in his lungs.
author's note: i am the world's fattest dillydallyer, i fear. bear with me folks please and thankss!!
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neteyam’s chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, his skin too warm under your palm where his heartbeat drums, faint, beneath layers of gauze and healing paste. the evening light, watery and red through the fibers of the marui pod, filters down over him, casting a glow that makes his blue skin look brighter.
a faint lustre of sweat lies at his temples. you can’t tell if it is the heat or the strain of healing that makes him look fragile, but it is unsettling. it feels like months have passed since that day. the bullet. the blood. the scream that ripped from your throat like you could tear the world in half with it.
he's been in and out of it for days. sometimes, he wakes with a shudder, his fingers twitching as if he’s reaching for his knife or his bow or something to hold onto before his muscles relax and he lays dormant once again. you wonder, not for the first time, what he dreams of now. if he’s still out there, somewhere between life and death, between the stars and the ground, or if he’s here, with you, feeling the soft pressure of your fingers on his skin, the warmth of your breath on his neck. you wonder if he feels the way your hands shake, if he knows how scared you are, even though you don’t say it.
“yawne,” he murmurs, voice raspy, cracking around the edges. it’s the only word he seems to have the strength for lately. my love. you could hear it a thousand times, and still, it would twist your insides in knots, the feeling churning beneath your ribs like roots digging into soil that’s too dry to give way. he says it like it is his only bind to the world.
the air inside the tent is sticky, thick, a little too sweet with the musk of old herbs and the iron tang of blood. you can taste it on your tongue as you breathe, cloying, like when you bite too hard into a mango and the juice drips down your chin, half-spoiled, but still too good to stop. the world is settling outside the night drawing in like a slow breath and inside, the hush of it, the weight of it, sinks into your skin, pools behind your eyes, heavy and aching.
his lashes cast long shadows across his cheeks, his lips chapped and parted as he pulls in uneven breaths. you move carefully, your hands trembling just a little as they skim over his ribs, up to his face, cradling his jaw in your palms. he feels fragile. your body aches in ways you can’t describe, the knots in your muscles from sleeping beside him, always curled up in awkward positions, always watchful. your knees are sore from kneeling too long, your neck stiff from leaning against the wooden posts of the tent. but all that discomfort it feels so small, so inconsequential, in the face of his suffering.
you stroke his hair back, letting the braids slip through your fingers one by one. the roots are damp, curls matted against his scalp. you hum a little under your breath, some half-forgotten melody your mother used to sing when you were small, when the days felt longer and the nights less lonely. the sound barely reaches your ears, swallowed by the thick air, but neteyam stirs, just a fraction, his lips twitching like he's trying to smile, trying to remember how.
dried blood like rust staining the fresh bandages you’ve wrapped around him. your hands know the routine now. the careful unraveling of cloth, the soft hiss of his breath when the cool air touches the wound, the gentle pat of the herbs pressed to his skin. you move like you’re in a trance, like this is a dream, and maybe it is. maybe none of this is real.
you press another kiss to his lips this time, barely more than a whisper of touch, but it feels like a promise. i’m here. i’m staying.
you trace the lines of his collarbone, the curve of his jaw, your touch light, as if you’re afraid he’ll shatter under your hands. you won’t leave me, you think, pressing your lips to the hollow of his throat, you can’t.
you kiss him again, soft, featherlight kisses that brush his skin like a promise, like a prayer. and with each one, you hope—this one will heal him. this one will be enough. but hope is like the wind, you think. it slips through your fingers no matter how tightly you hold on.
so you lie there, listening to the sound of his breathing, the faint rustle of the tent, the hum of the forest, and you wonder how many more kisses it will take before he’s whole again.
his presence is a tether, thin as it may be, binding you here. holding you together, even though the world outside feels as though it has unraveled completely. you sit beside him, legs curled under you, skin tingling with exhaustion. your bones feel like they might fold in on themselves, but none of that matters. wake up.
a sound escapes him. his lips move—just the faintest twitch, but it is something. he is here.
“neteyam,” you whisper. saying his name and it aches to let it out.
his lips part, a dry rasp of breath slipping through, and you reach for the gourd beside you, lifting it to his mouth. the water pools in the curve of his lips, slow and steady.
“drink,” you murmur, your voice catching on the word.
he drinks, the water moving down his throat in quiet gulps, each one easing the tightness there, smoothing the lines of strain from his face. you watch the way his throat moves, the tension softening just a little. when he is done, you lower the gourd, your thumb brushing against his lips, catching the drops that linger there.
your breath catches in your throat as neteyam’s eyes flutter open, the softest sliver of gold peeking through the lashes you have been watching so closely, day after day. your heart leaps before you can even stop it, a wild, untamed thing in your chest, and you do not know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. your hands hover above him, trembling with the need to touch him, to pull him into you, but you stop yourself, knowing how fragile he still is. every fiber of your being is vibrating with joy, your body a live wire of emotions, but you hold yourself back, afraid of overwhelming him, of hurting him.
“nete!” you breathe, the word coming out as half-laughter, half-sob, and you are trembling with the effort it takes not to throw yourself into his arms. your fingers brush his cheek, feather-light, as if he might disappear if you press too hard. the ache in your chest is too much, too bright, and all you can do is smile down at him, wide and breathless, blinking back the tears that blur your vision. he is here, really here, and you do not know how to contain it, how to quiet the storm of happiness that surges through you. you lean down, your forehead just barely touching his, and whisper, “you are awake!” your voice shaking with the weight of all the things you cannot say, all the joy you cannot express without breaking apart.
“you should be resting,” he says, and the sound of it makes your breath catch again. you have heard this voice so many times, but now it feels new, fragile.
you let out a soft laugh, half surprise, half relief, your fingers drifting through his hair, catching the strands that have come loose from his braids. “so should you,” you whisper, feeling the way his body hums beneath your touch, the way his presence pulls you in like the tide, slow and unrelenting.
he makes a small sound, something between a sigh and a hum, and it vibrates through your bones, quiet and deep. his hand tightens on yours, just a little, but enough. enough to remind you that he is here, that you are tethered to him still.
“i missed you,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them, too heavy with meaning. it is not just the missing of these last few days, these long, aching hours. it is the missing of something bigger, something that stretches across time. something that you cannot name.
he hums again, and you feel it in the space between your ribs, that soft agreement. you missed him too, even though you were never really gone. his breathing slows, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there is peace on his face.
“you are going to get better,” you whisper, as if saying it out loud might make it true. as if the words might stitch him back together, might pull him from the edge of whatever dark place he has been hovering near. you press your lips to his brow, kissing the smooth skin there, untouched by the pain that has tried to claim him.
another kiss, this one softer, to the tip of his nose, then his jaw, your lips trailing down to the place where his pulse beats steadily beneath the surface of his skin. he is still here.
you press your mouth to that spot, feeling the rhythm of his life under your lips, and you think, “you know,” you murmur against his skin, “if kissing you could heal you faster, you would be running by now.”
his chest moves with a low sound, something between a chuckle and a breath, and it fills the space between you like music. it makes you smile, makes your heart stutter and swell, and you nuzzle into him, your face pressed against the warmth of his neck, your hand splayed over his chest, trying to anchor yourself in this moment.
“you are doing a good job, then,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but it is full of something light, something playful.
your heart leaps at the sound, and you lift your head to look at him, to see the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. his eyes are still closed, but there is life in him now, a flicker of the boy you know—the boy who makes you laugh, the one who makes you feel like the world is not such a terrible place after all.
“then i will keep doing it,” you say, pressing another kiss to his cheek, your smile wide and soft, full of too much feeling.
“do not stop,” he murmurs, and it is almost playful, almost light, and you can feel your heart swelling again, pushing against your chest like it might burst.
you press your forehead to his, your body melting into his warmth, and the world outside feels so far away now, like it cannot reach you here.
“i will not,” you promise, the words slipping from your lips like a vow, like something sacred.
the silence returns, but it is full now, heavy with the weight of everything you have not said, everything you do not need to say. his breathing steadies, slow and rhythmic, and your body sinks into his, your exhaustion finally easing, replaced by something softer. something that feels like peace.
and in this quiet, in this small, fragile moment, you feel it—the hope that has been hiding in the corners of your heart. you feel it blooming, slow and tentative, but there, growing in the space between you.
because he is still here. and you are still here. and that, somehow, is enough.
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the sun was unforgiving, but you dug your fingers into the sand anyway, letting it gather beneath your nails, small grains cool against the heat that pressed down on your skin. the ocean sang before you, waves rolling softly toward the shore, brushing against your toes before retreating, almost shy in their touch. you tilted your face up toward the sky, letting the light cascade over you, trying to soak in its warmth, trying to let it chase away the heavy ache in your chest.
you didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but it didn’t matter. you came here often now, to this spot just beyond the village, where you could hear the water breathing, feel the sand shift beneath you, and pretend, for a moment, that everything was right. you dug your fingers in deeper, the sensation grounding you, pulling you back from the thoughts that threatened to drag you under.
neteyam was healing. slowly, carefully, but the wounds were still fresh, the memory of his blood staining your hands still too sharp. there were nights you woke with that same metallic scent in your nose, the image of him falling, so still and quiet, burned behind your eyelids. even now, as the sun beat down on you, your mind circled back to it—over and over.
you curled your fingers into fists, the sand slipping through them, leaving nothing but the feel of it sticking to your palms. you hated this. this waiting, this stillness. but you hated it more for him. neteyam wasn’t made to lie still. he was built for movement, for the hunt, for the wild freedom of the forest and sky. now, he was trapped. and in a way, so were you.
your eyes flickered toward the horizon, where the sea stretched out in endless blue. there was a celebration tonight—the metkayina’s way of welcoming a new season. you remembered the last one, how the village had come alive, vibrant and wild. you’d danced with neteyam then, under the stars, laughing as the ocean crashed around your feet. everything had felt light, easy. before.
now, the thought of going felt… wrong. how could you join in their joy when so much of yours was tethered to him, back in that marui, lying still and quiet? how could you celebrate without him by your side?
you pushed yourself up slowly, your body resisting the movement, as if it too was reluctant to leave this spot. you wiped the sand from your hands, shaking your head at your own thoughts. no neteyam, no joy. it was simple, really. without him, nothing felt complete.
the marui was bathed in soft light when you returned, the warm glow of the afternoon filtering in through the slats. it was quieter now, the village settling into the rhythm of evening. inside, neteyam lay where you left him, though his eyes fluttered open as you stepped closer. kiri and tuk were still there, but kiri shot you a small, tired smile, relief evident in the way her shoulders sagged.
“thank you,” she murmured, barely audible, as she stood, tugging tuk up gently. tuk looked up at you, her eyes bright as she offered a tiny smile, her fingers brushing your leg as she passed by. “he’s all yours.”
you nodded, giving her a grateful look before she slipped out of the marui, tuk trailing behind her, the sound of their soft footsteps disappearing into the distance. and then there was only the quiet. the kind of quiet that settled easily between you and neteyam, comfortable, familiar, as if it had always been this way.
you knelt beside him, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, studying the way the light played over his skin. his breathing was slow, steady, and for a moment, all you could do was watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers twitched slightly as if he was reaching for something just out of grasp.
“they are gone?” his voice broke the silence, soft and low, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“they are gone,” you confirmed, your hand instinctively reaching for his cheek, fingers brushing over the warmth of his skin. it was a simple touch, one you found yourself craving more and more, needing the reassurance of his presence, of his life beneath your fingertips.
he leaned into your touch, his smile widening just a fraction, though it didn’t quite chase away the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes. “good.”
for a moment, you just sat there, letting the quiet stretch between you, not needing to fill it with words. you had said everything already, in the days following his injury, in the long hours spent by his side, watching over him while he healed. the words weren’t important. this was. being here. being with him.
the soft hum of the village outside broke the stillness, the faint sounds of preparation for the celebration beginning to drift into the marui. laughter echoed from somewhere far off, the rhythm of drums picking up in the distance, the promise of festivity hanging in the air. but you didn’t care for it, not tonight. not when neteyam was still here, still recovering. the idea of leaving him behind, of being anywhere without him, felt impossible.
“the festival,” he murmured suddenly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. his eyes opened fully now, locking onto yours with a quiet intensity. “you should go.”
your brow furrowed in confusion, tilting your head slightly as you searched his face. “why?”
“because you should,” he replied, as though the answer was obvious, his gaze flickering with something you couldn’t quite name. “you have not been out… you have not done anything in forever.”
“i do not need to,” you said simply, shrugging as though the thought had never occurred to you. because it hadn’t.
he shifted slightly, discomfort flashing briefly across his face, though he hid it well. “you should nkt miss out because of me. it is not fair.”
you blinked, the frustration flaring just beneath the surface. how could he think that? how could he even suggest that any of this was his fault, or that you were missing out on anything at all? he was here. and that was enough.
“neteyam,” you began softly, your fingers brushing over the curve of his cheekbone, trying to soothe the tension you saw building there. “i have fun wherever you are. it does not matter what is happening outside.”
his frown deepened, like he didn’t quite believe you, like he was still carrying the weight of guilt for everything that had happened—for being hurt, for making you stay. but you didn’t press him further. you knew he needed time to understand. you weren’t missing anything. the world could celebrate all it wanted outside; you’d remain here, tethered to him, with him.
the rest of the day unfolded in small moments. the kind that didn’t need words to fill them. you stayed by his side, sometimes talking, other times letting the soft sounds of the village drift in from outside, the lull of the ocean a constant, gentle presence. he watched you in those quiet moments, his eyes following you as you moved around the marui, his gaze lingering as though he needed the reassurance that you were still there, still with him.
the sun was low in the sky now, casting everything in hues of gold and pink. the sounds of the festival had grown louder, laughter mingling with the rhythmic beat of drums, the clinking of shells as decorations were strung along the walkways. the energy outside was palpable, the village alive with celebration, but inside your marui, the quiet remained.
neteyam shifted again, his body protesting the movement, though he masked the discomfort as best he could. his eyes flickered toward the entrance of the marui, the faintest trace of music filtering through the air.
he turned back to you, his gaze more focused this time, more determined. “go get something to eat.”
you blinked, your brows knitting together as you stared at him. “what?”
“food,” he repeated, his tone light but insistent. “from the festival. go grab some.”
narrowing your eyes, you studied his face. he hadn’t let you out of his sight for more than a few minutes in the past days, and now he was practically urging you to leave. “what are you planning?”
“nothing,” he replied. “i am hungry. go. please?”
your lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unconvinced, but you rose to your feet anyway, giving him one last look before slipping out of the marui. the air outside was cooler now, the night settling in around you, and you could feel the pulse of the village as you made your way toward the center, where the celebration was in full swing. your mind already drifted back to neteyam, wondering what he was up to, why he was so adamant about sending you away. it wasn’t like him. not now, not when he needed you.
the food spread along the long, low tables is almost too much to look at, piles of bright fruits and roasted fish, grains and herbs twisted into fragrant shapes, everything vibrant and rich, as though the night itself has bloomed into this feast. your fingers brush over the cool surface of a carved bowl, feeling the delicate grooves, the weight of the work that went into every small detail. you carefully fill your basket, trying not to disturb too much of the display, slipping a few extra pieces of fruit between the flatbread and smoked meats, thinking of tuk’s bright eyes when she sees what you have brought back. the thought brings a smile to your lips, but it is fleeting, tempered by the pull of responsibility that sits low in your stomach. neteyam is still weak, and you know he will not eat unless you bring him something.
“you are not staying?” tsireya’s voice is soft but lilting, a note of surprise carried by the night air as she steps toward you, her hair catching in the lantern light, strands of it glowing like spun copper. her eyes are wide and kind, her arms laden with shells strung together on thin threads, swaying with the easy grace of the ocean. she leans in, “you are always leaving so quickly. you should enjoy yourself tonight.”
you smile at her, tucking the basket closer to your side. “i wish i could,” you say, and it is the truth, though it feels like a half-formed thing on your tongue, like something left out in the sun too long. even as you speak, you feel the quiet distance between you and the festival, like you are watching it all from the other side of a glass wall. tsireya’s face softens, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes, but before she can say anything else, tuk comes bounding up, her small hands tugging at the hem of your skirt, her face lit up with excitement.
“you have to stay for the dancing!” tuk’s voice is bright, her breath coming quick from her running. she looks up at you with such earnestness that it tugs at something in your chest, the way only a child can, her wide eyes reflecting the shimmering lights around you like she is holding the stars themselves. tsireya gives you a look, one that is all gentle encouragement, a soft nudge in the direction of the night’s festivities, and for a moment, just a moment, you consider it. staying. letting the music and laughter carry you for just a little while, letting the world slip away for a few hours. but then the weight of the basket shifts in your hands again, grounding you back to reality, and you know you cannot. not tonight.
“another time,” you say, your voice softer now, tinged with a quiet apology you hope they will understand. you brush a hand over tuk's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. “i promise.”
you returned as quickly as you could, stepping back into the marui with the scent of roasted fish and fruit clinging to the air. but the moment you walked inside, the food forgotten in your hands, you froze.
neteyam was standing.
his body was trembling slightly, one hand gripping the wall for support, but he was standing, his eyes bright with determination, his grin wide and boyish as he watched your stunned reaction.
“neteyam,” you whispered, barely able to speak, the shock freezing you in place. “what are you doing?”
“we are dancing,” he said simply, his voice soft but firm, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. as though this wasn’t a miracle.
you shook your head, taking a hesitant step forward, torn between wanting to scold him for pushing himself too far and being so overwhelmed with love for him you thought you might burst. “you should not be standing. you—”
but before you could finish, he reached for you, his hand catching yours gently, pulling you closer. “come on. just for a while.”
the music from the festival floated through the air, the soft, distant beat of the drums like a heartbeat, slow and steady. you let him guide you, your hands finding their way to his waist, careful not to press too hard, not to disturb the bandages still wrapped around his middle.
he moved slowly, his steps tentative but deliberate, and you moved with him, letting the rhythm carry you both, swaying gently in the small space of the marui. his breath was warm against your skin, his forehead resting against yours as you danced together, the world outside falling away.
“this is all i need,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “just you.”
you pressed your face into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the warmth of his skin against yours. your heart swelled in your chest, the love you felt for him spilling over, too big to contain.
“you are all i need too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, your arms tightening around him.
and as the faint music played on, you stayed there, swaying together in the dim light of the marui, the world outside forgotten, everything you needed right here, in this moment, in each other.
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7s3ven · 2 months ago
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WHY DON’T U LOVE ME? (pt 1) human! miles quaritch
[ masterlist ]
IN WHICH… jake sully becomes too preoccupied with the omatikaya to check up on his daughter. miles quaritch uses it to his advantage, luring you in with sweet words and caging you.
Notes: unstable! jake sully’s daughter! reader, daddy issues, toxic relationship, age gap, pet names (quaritch calls reader princess + sweetheart), manipulation, neglect, bi! reader, a little trudy x r if you squint, angst, LONG one shot, implications of sex, intense make out sessions, reader commits suicide, dark, angst, jake lowkey being a bad father, mental health issues, character death
part 1 | part 2
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You were the exact opposite of Pandora. With your wide doe eyes and shorter figure, it was a wonder how you had managed to survive the turbulent flight. As you trailed behind Jake, your father, giving his wheelchair a gentle push when needed, various soldiers turned their heads to peer at you.
You didn’t look like a marine. You didn’t even look like a scientist. Instead, you waltzed around in a daze, curious eyes darting to look everywhere. You had no idea where you were heading; you merely followed after Jake.
His heavy bags weighed you down, making every step a struggle. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment as you stumbled, and a group of men loudly snickered.
You held the heavy steel door for your father as he rolled into the large room. Honestly, you had no idea what you were even doing on such a strange planet. All you remembered was that Uncle Tom had been shot, and suddenly, Jake was swept into a mission that wasn’t his—forced to fill his brother’s shoes. Now, here you were, dragged along with him, feeling out of place on a planet that felt far too wild for someone like you.
You were supposed to be buying makeup, drinking, choosing outfits, and crying when dirt got under your nails. Instead, you were stuck on Pandora without any of your ditzy friends, relying on your father to keep you company.
You stared at the Colonel, who stood at the front of the room, his back turned to the new recruits. You slowly sat down on a stiff metal bench, fiddling with your fingers. You glanced at the marine next to you, briefly smiling.
"You are not in Kansas anymore. You are on Pandora, ladies and gentlemen." He turns, and you stiffen, feeling the breath suddenly knock out of your lungs. He was... handsome. His features were rough and rugged, and three long scars dragged through his cropped hair. "Beyond that fence, every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes." You could hardly hear his low voice, too enamoured by his looks.
"As head of security, it's my job to keep you alive. I will not succeed." He strode down the empty aisle, hands clasped behind his back as he paused. "Not with all of you." Your gaze followed him until he stopped in front of you. You stared up at him through your lashes, lips softly parted.
You could smell the faint scent of his cologne. It overpowered you, flooding your senses. He continued talking, but his words never fully reached your ears. He placed his hands on his hips, his elbow almost whacking you in the face.
"Class dismissed."
You were the first to stand up. The Colonel, out of the corner of his eye, saw you. He turned his head, eyes trailing down your figure. You picked up the last bag before lifting your head, your gaze locking with the Head of Security.
It was a brief moment of eye contact before your father called out your name. "Sorry, sir, excuse me." You brushed past the Colonel, hurrying after Jake.
The corridor was a mess, filled with luggage and crowded with people of all sorts. You squeezed past them all, struggling to breathe in the claustrophobic air.
"Hey! You're Jake, right?!" A scrawny man staggered under the weight of his overpacked duffel bag as he jogged to catch up with you and your father. "Tom's brother? I'm Norm Spellman. I, uh, went through avatar training with him." Norm glanced at you, "And you must be Y/N, right? Tom's daughter, I'm guessing? He talked about you a lot."
"She's mine, actually." Jake interrupted. "My daughter."
Norm's brows raised for a second before he smiled. "Right, of course. Sorry."
Your focus trailed off as Norm and Jake conversed. You merely followed after them. Your eyes widened in awe as you came face to face with Tom's, now Jake's, avatar. It looked just like your Uncle. You pressed a hand against the transparent amino tank, deeply inhaling.
"Grace Augustine is a legend!" Norm exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. "She's the head of the Avatar Program and wrote the literal book on Pandoran botany."
"So it's like the Pandoran botany bible?" You finally spoke up for the first time since arriving on the alien world. You heard Max, another scientist, let out a quiet snort.
"Yeah, you can say that. She wrote the book because she likes plants better than people." Max said over his shoulder.
You almost jumped in shock when a link compartment door was slammed open with a loud bang. Grace Augustine, a fierce woman, sat up. You watched as she stretched her neck, lowly groaning. "Okay, who's got my damn cigarette?!" She shouted as she stood up.
Grace's eyes were anything but kind as she watched the four of you approach her. She deeply scowled.
"Grace, I'd like you to meet Norm Spellman, Y/N Sully, and Ja"- Max attempted to introduce the three of you, but Grace abruptly cut him off.
"Norm. I hear good things about you. How's your Na'vi?" She practically ignored you and your father, her attention focused solely on the one person who actually belonged on Pandora.
"Grace." Max tried again, "This is Y/N Sully and Jake Sully."
"Yeah, yeah. I know who they are." Her lips curled into a frown as she turned to Jake. "I don't need you. I need your brother. The PhD who trained three years for this mission."
"He's dead, " you said. You had always possessed a sharp tongue, but in situations like these, you really needed to learn to bite your remarks back.
Grace looked even more unimpressed to see you. "This Tom's daughter?"
"Mine." Jake corrected for the second time in an hour.
"Funny. She looks just like Tom."
"What a surprise. It's almost like he was my twin."
Grace huffed in slight amusement. "Whatever. I guess we can use her for... something. A secretary of sorts. Let's hope Quaritch takes a liking to you. Maybe he’ll stop annoying the shit out of me with a new play toy.”
"Hey, no, no. You can't talk about her like that." Jake piped up, "She's a person, not an object."
Grace ignored his jab. "How much lab training have you had?"
"I dissected a frog once in high school chemistry," Jake answered. He glanced at you, "Y/N's better. She won a science award."
"In what, primary school?" Grace sharply retorted, rolling her eyes.
You scoffed under your breath. No, you won the state science competition.
"You see? They're just pissing on us without the courtesy of calling it rain. I'm going to Selfridge." Grace shoved past you, storming down the corridor.
"Parker, I used to think it was benign neglect, but now I see you're intentionally screwing us. I need a research assistant, not some jarhead. " Grace grumbled, furrowing her eyebrows in frustration.
Selfridge merely shrugged as he looked down at his golf ball, gently hitting it towards a cup. Grace kicked it aside, frowning in annoyance. "Actually, I think we got lucky."
Grace scoffed as Selfridge leaned down to retrieve the ball. "Lucky?" She groaned, " How is this in any way lucky?"
"Well, lucky your guy had a twin brother, and lucky the brother wasn't an oral hygienist or something. A Marine we can use. I'm assigning him to your team as a security escort." Selfridge folded his arms over his chest.
"The last thing I need is another trigger-happy asshole out there with a bimbo daughter!" Grace abruptly shouted, slamming her hand down on the table.
"She's smarter than she looks. You ever heard of that kid who won the US State Academic Award?" Selfridge flipped through a series of folders before pulling one out and showing the front paper to Grace.
The woman stared at the picture of you, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. "That... was her?"
"Yeah. Maybe you can, I don't know, teach her to become a scientist or something. She learns fast from what I've heard. Jake only dragged her along because if he left, there’d be no one else to take care of her."
"So? She’s an adult."
"Well, no. She was a teenager before leaving for Pandora. But anyway, she went a bit loopy after high school. Took a bunch of pills. If Jake left her alone, he’d only return to her grave."
“What, so we’re taking in suicidal kids now? We ain’t a help shelter, Parker.”
“I think she can offer us something. Quaritch took one look at her picture and accepted her into the operation. So, clearly, he sees something we don’t. But, whatever keeps him happy, I guess. As long as he gets his job done.”
Grace scoffed for what felt like the fifth time today. "Whatever." She muttered.
"Sully, Colonel wants to see you in the Armor Bay." Trudy Chacon, a pilot and former Marine, strode into the lab, still dressed in her flight suit. Jake lifted his head, sending Norm a puzzled look.
Nevertheless, he followed after Trudy. She led him past numerous planes and AMPSUITS. "He's down there," Trudy uttered, pointing to the makeshift gym where Jake saw Colonel Miles Quaritch bench-pressing massive weights.
"This low gravity makes you soft," Quaritch grunted as he pushed through the last rep. "You get soft; Pandora will shit you out dead with zero warning." He racked the bar and sat up, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. "I pulled your record, Corporal. Venezuela, that was some mean bush. Nothing like this here, though. You got heart coming out here. Especially with your daughter, no doubt."
Jake shrugged, "Just another hellhole, sir. And if I left my daughter, she'd practically be an orphan."
"You weren't planning on returning to her?"
"I'd probably be dead, sir. And if it takes six years to travel back, she'd want nothing to do with me. Even now, she almost despises me."
"She looks a lot like you, apart from the eyes."
"Yeah. Her mother had the same big doe eyes."
Quaritch only chuckled as he clapped Jake on the shoulder. "I was in First Recon a few years ahead of you. More than a few. Two tours in Nigeria, not a scratch. I come out here, and on the first day, I get this." He pointed to his scarred head, lips curling into a sneer. "They could fix this if I rotated back. But you know what? I kinda like it. Reminds me every day what's out there."
Jake listened attentively as Quaritch explained a proposition: "I take care of my own, son. Get me what I need, and I'll see you get your legs back when you rotate home—your real legs."
Jake let out a chuckle, not being able to suppress his wide grin. "That sounds real good, sir." He paused, "But what about my daughter?"
Quaritch raised an eyebrow as he watched Jake shake his head. "I can’t take care of her. I could barely take care of her on Earth. I need to make sure she ends up somewhere safe before I…" He trailed off.
“Before you run away.” Quaritch finished. “Don’t worry, Sully. I’ll take care of her if things get too tough.”
If only Jake noticed the crude meaning behind his words.
The first time Quaritch approached you was when your father was out on another mission. You were lounging around in the laboratory, tapping a pen against the table in boredom.
Norm was gone too, so was Grace. Trudy was with them as well. Max was… your eyes trailed around the room, searching for the friendly scientist. He was working on another project.
You sighed, tilting her head back. Your lips settled into a pout as you spun around in the chair, relieving your boredom for a few short sentences. You were interrupted when two hands slammed down on either side of you, effectively trapping you.
You looked up, eyes wide as you stared at the Colonel. You expected a scold to roll off his tongue. He merely grinned down at you. “We haven’t formerly met, Y/N.”
“You know my name?” You whispered. As far as you were concerned, nobody batted at eye at you. Sure, you were nice eye candy, a stark difference from the actual workers, but there was nothing else to you. You felt your cheeks heat up as he leaned closer.
“You’re Sully’s girl.” He grinned, “Plus, I read your file. You had a bright future. Early acceptation from Harvard law. What happened?”
You slowly swallowed. Right, you had forgotten about that. Your life had been going great until your high school graduation. It was the same day your Uncle Tom was shot. You didn’t turn up to graduation. In fact, you barely left your room after that.
Jake Sully was your father on paper but Tom Sully was everything else.
Your life fell into pieces after your Uncle’s death. You were already on the verge of a mental breakdown and his death was the breaking point.
You glanced back at Quaritch, silent for a moment. “An accident happened.” You murmured. “My Uncle died.”
“And I’m guessing your father didn’t help? He told you to suck it up?”
Yes, those were Jake’s exact words.
“Why are you talking to me, Colonel?” You muttered, fidgeting with your hands.
“I need you to do something for me, pretty.” His face was barely an inch from yours, his lips almost brushing yours. You had the urge to close the gap yet you remained still, waiting. “I need you to keep an eye on Augustine and her team. Can you do that for me?” His hands grazed your collarbones as he rested them on your shoulders. Your breath hitched. You hadn’t been touched so gently in years.
“Okay.” You whispered without thinking.
“Good. If that smart little brain of yours suspects anything, tell me.” He stood up straight.
“I’m not smart, Colonel.” You said as he began to walk away. You watched as he slung his jacket over his shoulder and turned to look at you once more.
A smirk pulled at his lips. “Oh? Then how come Harvard wanted you so bad?”
It had been days since your last interaction with the Colonel but his words seemed engraved into your head. You softly bit down on your bottom lip, jolting when Norm’s link suddenly opened. “Hey.” He greeted you. He was probably the only nice person to you. Him, Trudy, and Max. Grace didn’t like your presence looming around but she tolerated you. And Jake didn’t bother checking up on you; he wanted you to get settled in by yourself.
“Hi.” You replied, staring at him. You noticed his tired eyes. “Busy day?”
“Yeah. Decided to take a break. You doing alright?”
You silently nodded. Between you and Norm, there wasn’t much to discuss. You knew nothing about Pandora while he seemed to know everything, constantly spewing out knowledge in your face.
“You wanna grab lunch together?” Norm asked but you politely declined. You had already eaten after taking a short nap. Grace said she’d get you some work to do but she never did.
“Hey, Sully.” Another marine soldier whose name you didn’t know called out for you, “The Colonel’s asking for ya. Says he has a job for you.” You were secretly glad to have a task to do. Days on Pandora were so boring.
You scrambled out of your seat, following the Marine into a part of the base you had never been to. You mainly stuck to the science compound where Grace could keep an eye on you.
“Colonel, I got ‘er.” The soldier announced, briefly saluting. Quaritch turned away from Selfridge to look you up and down, nodding.
“Just make her file papers or copy. I don’t care.” You heard Selfridge hiss as he poked Quaritch’s chest and walked away. You felt self conscious standing in a room jam packed of soldiers. They all craned their heads to get a look at you, eyes flickering to your low cut top.
“Here you go, pretty. That’ll be plenty to keep you occupied. Just copy them and I’ll check back with you in an hour.” Quaritch shoved a pile of files into your arms, his hands grazing yours. You blushed at the sudden contact.
“Yes sir.” You squeaked. His gaze remained on your figure, almost scrutinising you before he turned his head.
You admired his side profile, your gaze not so subtly staring at his sharp jawline. He noticed but made no comment. You hurried off, almost crashing into people due to the files covering your vision. Quaritch watched you with an amused glint in his eyes. Oh, you were going to be fun.
You sat in front of the printer, your eyes drooping at its slow pace. You would have fallen asleep had Trudy not interrupted you. “Hey, mini Sully, what’cha doing?!” She ruffled your hair, jolting you awake.
“Printing papers for the Colonel.” You murmured, giving the printer a firm kick when it paused.
“You so bored that you started listening to the Colonel? Ha!” Trudy chuckled as she slung an arm around your shoulder. “Augustine really ain’t making it easy for you, huh?”
You simply shook your head. “She doesn’t seem to like me.”
“Oh, nonsense! She’ll warm up eventually!” Trudy slapped you on the back, leaving you winded. You lowly grunted, almost sent forward by the sudden force.
“Yeah, sure.” You muttered, still not believing the pilot’s words. The room was peacefully silent before Trudy swore under her breath.
“Sorry, babe, gotta fly some more avatars down. Duty calls.”
Her teasing pet name made your cheeks flare up. Somehow the RDA has managed to send the most attractive people to Pandora. You were stuck with the whirring printer as it paused again, clearly struggling. You gave it another kick, forcing it back into action.
“Whoa, slow down, sweetheart. Don’t need ‘cha breaking our equipment.” Quaritch leaned against the doorframe, gaze lazily trailing over you. You were sitting backwards on a chair, arms propped up.
“It’s too slow.” You complained. Though, your voice was quiet. Quaritch had to strain his ears to hear your words.
“Where’s your dad?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Out.” You replied, suddenly feeling bitter at how Jake was almost ignoring you.
“He plans to abandon you.”
You ceased all actions as you slowly turned your head to stare at Quaritch. “What?” You whispered.
Jake wasn’t the best dad, that was for sure. At least, not to you. But you could barely blame him. You were the result of a college hook-up, just another burden forced into his hands when your mother didn’t want you. He liked you at first. He treated you with care.
You were his precious little girl for a brief moment in time. And then you grew up into your own person, almost like a stranger to Jake. You looked so much like him that he seemed to hate it. He hated seeing another copy of him, reminding him of what his life could have looked like had he not lost control in his legs.
Deep inside, you were still his little girl who believed you were his whole world when, in reality, you were the last thing in his mind.
“Said so himself, sweetheart. He can’t look after you, not like this.” Quaritch stepped closer to you, softly tilting your chin up with a flick of his fingers.
You knew your presence made life difficult for Jake but he never complained. Hearing the Colonel’s cruel words was a snap back to reality.
“I suppose it’ll be easier for him…” You muttered, your tongue darting out to lick your dry lips.
“I told him I’d take care of you.” Quaritch muttered as he leaned down, his warm breath hitting your ear. “So don’t get into trouble, sweetheart.” He teasingly tapped your cheek as the corners of his mouth twitched into a sly grin.
You had a feeling that Quaritch wasn’t trying to act as a second father finger as his gaze lingered on your lips for a second too long.
Your theory was proven correct when one night, weeks after your arrival, Quaritch cornered you in the dim kitchen. It was late and you had snuck out of your room to retrieve a cup of cold water. You didn’t even know the Colonel had entered the room until he closed the creaky door behind him.
“Up for a late night snack, sweetheart?” He called out, using your endearing nickname. You stared at him through your lashes as you leaned over to grab a cup from the dishwasher.
“No, sir. Only some water.” You softly replied, never breaking eye contact. In one swift moment, he snatched the fragile cup from your hand and shoved you against the stone-top counter. The edges dug into your clothed back as you merely blinked up at him.
“You’re in my personal space, Colonel.” You said, lightly mocking him. He said nothing as he effortlessly lifted you onto the counter, grabbing your chin with his hand.
“It was easy to ignore those science pukes and my soldiers but you waltz around here in low jeans and cropped tops.” His brows furrowed together in frustration, “I can’t even remember the most beautiful woman I’ve seen because it’s always you in my goddamn mind.”
You tilted your head to the side, adjusting your shirt that was beginning to slow down your shoulder, showing a silver of skin. “I don’t understand, sir.” You murmured. What was the point behind his words?
He leaned in, lips brushing yours but never actually colliding. He seemed to hesitate but the doubt clouding his head vanished when you wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the distance between you.
You were moving eagerly, taking away his ability to breathe. Literally. He had to forcefully pull away to inhale some much needed oxygen to relieve his dizzy head.
You didn’t let him take a break for long. You tugged him forward by his shirt collar, muttering muffled words against his lips. “Don’t leave me, Colonel.” You whispered, tucking your face into his shoulder.
Quaritch pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, dragging out a low sigh from you. You allowed your head to loll to the side, granting him further access. He nipped and sucked on your exposed skin, listening to the quiet sounds slipping past your lips.
From that night on you, were obsessed with Colonel Miles Quaritch and you only drowned deeper into the guilty pleasure each time you shared stolen kisses in the empty corridors.
You barely saw Jake anymore, too preoccupied in keeping Quaritch company. You were sure Lyle Wainfleet, Quaritch’s second-in-command, could hear the squeak of his superior’s bed. Lyle had even caught you sneaking out of the Colonel’s room late at night a few times, hair messy, lipstick smudged, and your shirt barely covering the bruises that lay upon your collarbone. Yet, you didn’t really care and neither did he. Lyle had seen much worse things in his lifetime.
You were lying in your own bed when you heard a knock on your door. Begrudgingly, you crawled out from under your warm blankets and stumbled through the dark.
You opened the door, expecting to see your father, maybe Norm or Trudy, even Grace. You were expecting anybody else but the Colonel himself.
“Sir.” You greeted him. He brushed past you, entering your room without your permission but you let him. You were already closing the door behind you, locking it for safe measures.
“Felt lonely without you.” Quaritch sighed as he fell onto your soft mattress. You could faintly see him beckoning you over through the darkness. “Missed the smell of your perfume too.” As you lay down beside him, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, your perfume hitting him like an avalanche.
You thought he was merely here for sex, like he always was, but he grabbed your wrists when your hands travelled to the waistband of his pants. “Just wanted to see your pretty face and hear your voice.” He uttered, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You felt a warm, giddy feeling seep into your chest as he pulled you close. When had you last been touched so lovingly? Quaritch was so gentle. His hands rested on the curve of your back, thumb rubbing affectionate circles into your skin.
You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, leaning into his warm embrace. For the first time in a while, you felt safe. Quaritch shifted, his arms now wrapped around you as he pulled you close. The lingering smell of his cologne hit you, clouding your mind of every rational thought.
The effect he had on you was dangerous but you loved it.
You were aimlessly braiding Trudy’s hair when Grace stormed towards you. She grabbed you by the shoulder, practically dragging you towards the door. Trudy looked up, confused, but not questioning it.
“Ow! That hurts!” You exclaimed, trying to swat Grace’s hand away. She ignored you.
“Are you out of your mind?!” She hissed, harshly flicking your forehead. “Messing around with Quaritch of all people?”
“How do you know about that?” You didn’t bother denying it.
“Well, he isn’t exactly secret about it. Doesn’t even bother wiping the lipstick marks off his neck. And nobody here wears lipstick apart from you.” She poked your chest, her eyebrows furrowing. “You could do so much better. Why him of all the idiotic people here?”
You silently shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “He makes me feel… loved.” You whispered, lowering your head. You had never been ashamed of being involved with the Colonel but Grace’s judgemental glare suddenly made you feel self conscious.
“He isn’t capable of love, kid! And that’s what you are. You’re like a kid compared to him! There’s plenty of younger marine soldiers.” Grace paused, looking you up and down. “Unless… this has something to do with Jake. If you’re looking for anything resembling a father, you won’t find it in Quaritch.”
Tears glazed over your eyes as Grace said nothing but the truth.
“If you’re looking for stability, protection, and emotional support because your relationship with Jake lacks that, choose someone else. Not Quaritch.”
Your cheeks burned up. You barely understood yourself, but Grace was psychoanalysing you in a matter of seconds. You swallowed hard, your throat tight as Grace’s words cut deep. You wanted to argue against her brutal honesty, but she was staring right through you, her gaze sharp.
"I'm not looking for a father figure."
"Then what are you looking for?" She pressed, her voice softer but still relentless. "Love? That’s not in his arsenal, kid." Grace saw your trembling lips. She sighed gently, "I'm not trying to beat you down. Quaritch has his motives, and whatever feelings you have for him won't change his agenda. Trust me, I’ve seen men like him. They’re good at giving you what you want—until they don’t." Her voice was almost motherly, starkly different from how she usually spoke to you. She never talked to you like that, not with such tenderness, making the truth even more challenging to swallow.
Her words haunted you as she walked away. You felt vulnerable. Grace had peeled away a layer of you that you weren't ready to face. Your chest felt tight as you stumbled towards Quaritch's office, your eyesight blurry with unfallen tears. Grace's voice lingered in the back of your mind, attacking you.
She was right—you knew it deep down. But the ache of Quaritch's attention, his intense affection, felt too good to give up. It was intoxicating, in a dangerous way that clouded your judgment. He made you feel important and seen; it filled the hole in your heart.
The warmth of his presence, the subtle touch of his hand when no one was watching, the guarded smiles he flashed—it was enough to make you forget, even for a fleeting second, how dangerous your obsession with Quaritch could be.
His possessive gaze from across the room always made your stomach somersault. His attention was a drug, and you weren't sure if you had the strength to walk away.
You slowly lifted a hand, hesitantly knocking on his door. "Come in." He gruffly called out. You twisted the knob, gently pushing the door open.
"Hello, sir." You murmered.
He instantly noticed your distressed face and the way your brows creased together. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?" He asked, beckoning you forward.
"Sir..." Your mouth ran dry. "Is it true? Do you really view me as a..." You couldn't even finish your sentence. He played with the hem of your shirt, nodding his head to encourage you to continue. "Someone told me you don't care about me."
"Of course I do, princess." He caressed your waist. "Who told you that?"
"Grace." You murmured, kneeling in front of him and leaning your cheek against his knee. He softly stroked your head, bringing you a speckle of comfort.
"Don't listen to those science pukes, sweetheart." He told you, tilting your head up. "They don't know you like I do, baby." His thumb traced the shape of your lips. All your doubts flew out the window as he pulled you up, kissing you.
You peeked into Jake's room, searching for your father. You noticed how his bunk was almost empty, stripped of his belongings. The only thing left was a framed picture of you and him on his nightstand with a short note under it. You knew what the letter meant. He was leaving you all over over.
Suddenly, you were five again, begging your father not to go on another mission because you still wanted- no, needed- his love. You held the photograph of you together close to your chest, your emotions overwhelming you. You didn't even know he still had this picture, let alone kept it beside him while he slept. However, the fact that he had forgotten or purposely left it didn't sit right with you.
Your hands trembled as you removed the picture from the frame, delicately folding it and shoving it into your pocket. You grabbed the note, almost crashing into the wall with how fast you ran out of the room. “Sorry!” You exclaimed as you shoved past two scientists.
You frantically knocked on Quaritch’s door, knowing it was his day off. When he didn’t open it, you started wildly banging your fist against the surface. You even kicked the door a little, almost knocking it off its hinges. “I’m coming! I’m coming! Hold on, fucking hell!” You heard him shout. He angrily opened the door, raising his eyebrows when he saw you.
“My dad. He left.” You blurted out. You felt bad for snitching on your own father but that wasn’t enough to stop you. A part of you would always crave Quaritch’s approval and you knew you’d go to great lengths to prove it. “He left this.” You handed him the note Jake had placed on the nightstand, announcing his abrupt departure with Norm, Grace, and Trudy. As Quaritch’s eyes scanned over the note, you couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder when you heard a quiet groan.
Your heart almost stopped. There was a woman in Quaritch’s bed. All you could see was her brunette hair but you immediately knew it was. Paz Socorro. The marines liked her as much as they liked you. She was beautiful, much closer to Quaritch’s age than you. She was curled into a ball, the blankets softly draped over her undressed form.
Quaritch saw you stiffen but only raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘we weren’t exclusive’. He shoved the note back into your hands and closed the door on you, not even bothering to even utter a word. You stood in front of his room, frozen and shocked. Once you realised he had no intention of speaking to you, you slowly dragged your feet in the direction of your room.
Your body felt heavy as you forced it to move. You were sure you would have fully collapsed when your knees buckled if it wasn’t the person who swiftly caught you. “Thank you.” You murmured.
You barely got to your room in time before everything started collapsing. You slammed the door behind you, slowly sliding down it. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to wipe them away with no avail.
Your father had left you like he always did even though he promised he’d never do it again.
Norm and Trudy, your only two friends, were gone too.
And Grace, who you were beginning to view as a slight mother figure, left with them.
Not to mention Quaritch, the man who your twisted mind claimed to love, had another woman in his life. Grace was right. You should have listened but you thought you knew better.
You felt numb as you crawled into your bed, ignoring your given duties. Selfridge had knocked on your door hours ago, demanding you to file and copy some paperwork, but you tuned his voice out. Nobody except for you knew how to properly work the printer. What a bunch of idiots. Weren’t they supposed to be the smartest and toughest bunch?
Your hair stuck to your flushed face as you buried yourself deeper into the comfort of your blankets. You barely registered the sound of your door creaking open until the dim light from the hallway suddenly flooded in.
“Princess, I promise you she meant nothing.” You heard Quaritch call out into your dark room, “She was just a fling, that’s all. I missed you.”
A part of you didn’t want to believe his words, but as he leaned down to kiss the side of your head, you lost all common sense. You couldn’t resist his sickly sweet words, which made your stomach churn and your heart flutter.
He embraced you, and you let him, knowing there was no point in fighting when you would ultimately lose. You kissed him back as he crawled into your bed, cornering you without a chance to run.
You were tightly wrapped around his finger as he placed you on his lap, your lips never leaving his. You were barely inhaling any oxygen, sacrificing your need to breathe to spend more time pressed up against Quaritch.
Grace was right, but you were already in too deep to remember her words. It was your mistake, really. And you realized that when Quaritch's gentle grip became bruising, and it became impossible to escape his controlling gaze.
Quaritch watched the monitor in anger, staring at Jake’s avatar. His hands clenched into fists as he immediately spun around, searching for the one person who would give him the leverage he needed. You.
He burst into your room. You screamed out of surprise, papers flying everywhere. “Get up, princess.” He yanked you out of your seat, his tight grip enough to bruise your shoulder.
“Where are we going?” You asked, your gaze nervously darting around.
“To get your dad. You know where he is, right?”
You stared up at Quaritch, your lips sealed. Jake had briefly mentioned the location to you in his note, but you had scribbled it out before showing Quaritch the letter. He merely chuckled, leaning down to match your height. “Come on, sweetheart. Tell me where he is, and I’ll reward you.” He caressed your cheek, thumb gently stroking your skin. You leaned into his touch, your mind clouded.
“A reward?” You quietly questioned. “Anything I want?”
Quaritch smirked, “Anything.”
You thought for a moment, thickly gulping. Your eyes darted up to meet his and you parted your glossy lips. “The Hallelujah mountains.” You whispered, almost wishing he didn’t hear you.
“Good job, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you give you want you want when we get back.” He patted your head and you opened your lips to ask what he meant by we. Your silent question was answered when he tugged you towards an aircraft.
“Your dad’s crossed the line. It’s time he remember who he’s fighting for.”
You stiffened as Quaritch suddenly pricked your skin with a sharp knife. He held it against your throat. One wrong move and your blood would be everywhere. The blade dug into your flesh, cutting a thin line. Tiny drops of blood oozed out, staining your white-collar top.
You were scared for your life but you made no attempt in fighting against Quaritch. Because surely he wouldn’t actually slit your throat, right? He loved you too much… at least, that’s what you thought in your mind.
Quaritch, satisfied with your dormant state, slowly slipped the knife back into its holster. He held onto you securely, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. To you, it felt like a loving touch. To others, they knew it was a way of ensuring you didn’t run.
You looked foreign to your father. He hadn’t gazed at you in so long that he forgot what you looked like. He felt a small pang of guilt as he watched the way Quaritch took a step to stand closer to you, too close to be merely acquaintances.
Grace has warned him about the Colonel’s new suddenly interest in you but Jake was too stubborn to listen. Now he realised what she meant. Jake, after years of letting you fend for yourself, had officially lost you. And you had fallen into the hands of a greedy and cruel man.
You stood beside Quaritch as the recording of Jake destroying a bulldozer camera played on repeat. It suddenly paused on a frame revealing Jake’s angry snarl. “You let me down, son.”
You watched the scene with wide eyes. Grace, Norm, and Jake were thrown into a cell for siding with the Na’vi. You turned to Quaritch, tugging on his shirt to gain his attention. “Sir, is this really necessary?” You murmured, glancing at your father.
Quaritch wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you away. “He doesn’t love you, sweetheart. He doesn’t care about you.” He whispered in your ear as he stroked his thumb over your cheek. Your mind instantly believed any lie he shoved down your throat and you slowly nodded. “I’m here. I care about you, not him.”
You blindly trailed after him. You’d walk off a cliff for Quaritch and he knew it. He used your loyalty to his advantage because all it took was a murmur of sweet words in your ear for you to follow him.
You didn’t visit Jake until hours later. You adjusted your top to conceal the marks Quaritch had left on your body. The guard standing in front of the cell nodded in acknowledgment at you before walking off to give you some privacy. You halted in front of the cell, red eyes looking up to meet Jake’s. It had taken thirty minutes for you to stop crying after Quaritch convinced you that Jake wanted you gone.
“Quaritch said you don’t care about me.” You uttered, staring at Jake. You heard the quiet sound of Grace scoffing.
“And you believe him?” She asked.
“You left me. Why wasn’t I allowed to come?” Your brows furrowed. Jake was sitting right in front of you in his wheelchair, wanting to reach out a hand to comfort you but he knew you’d only pull away. His touch felt like hot iron on your skin.
“It was too dangerous.” He muttered, unable to meet your gaze.
You kneeled so that he was forced to lock eyes with you. “Why don’t you love me?” Your words came out as a whisper but when Jake didn’t answer, you grew angry. “Why don’t you love me?!” You reached through the bars, gripping onto his shirt. “You don’t love me! You don’t care about me! Why?! Why don’t you love me?!” You screamed.
Jake couldn’t answer. You leaned your head against the bar, tears rolling down the apples of your cheeks. It felt like you were a child again, crying into his arms about a scraped knee. Only, it was something bigger than that.
You sniffled, your tight grip on Jake’s shirt loosening. “Why are you leaving me for her?” You didn’t even have to say Neytiri’s name. You saw the look in Jake’s eyes when he spoke about Neytiri with Norm and Grace. It was the same way you looked at Quaritch.
After your short outburst, you were ushered away by the guard. Jake could only helplessly stare at your retreating form. You were his little girl and he had let you down.
The last time Jake ever saw you with his human eyes was when he jumped on a plane with Grace, Norm, and Trudy. You had been in the control tower with Quaritch when you heard the sound of a whirring engine. The moment you realised Jake was leaving you for good, you kicked open the door and rushed out without an oxygen mask.
Jake could still remember your teary eyes as you outstretched an arm, silently begging him to come back. You would have fallen over the metal railing if it wasn’t for Quaritch heaving you back. The Colonel swiftly lifted an oxygen mask to your face, forcing you to breathe.
You never saw your father again.
It was clear that Jake’s departure meant war. Quaritch barked orders at his soldiers and pilots with you hot on his heels. He only spared you a glance when you were in the safe confides of his office.
“You know I have to go, sweetheart.” He murmured against your skin. You shook your head.
“Don’t go, please.” With Jake gone, Quaritch was your last lifeline.
“I’ll come back, princess.”
Lies.
“We can start that family you always wanted.”
Lies.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
LIES.
“No, don’t leave.” You whimpered, a futile attempt to convince him to stay with you. “If you leave, that means you don’t love me.” You received no answer. “Do you love me?” You asked, “Or are you lying? I don’t like liars.” Your nails dug into his skin.
“I have to leave, baby.” Quaritch repeated.
You were on your knees in an instant, tugging aggressively on his shirt as you sobbed. It was an exact repeat of what had happened with your father. You were starting to notice a pattern. “Why don’t you love me?! Why are you like him?” You cried. “He left me! And you’re leaving me!”
You had given him everything. Why did he still not return your desperate feelings? Quaritch almost felt bad for you. He flattened out your tousled hair, quietly shushing you. “Princess, stop crying.” He wiped your tears and smeared mascara away.
“Do you love me now?” You whispered, your hopeful doe eyes staring up at him. You were beautiful, even with red eyes and tears streaming down your face. Quaritch hesitated. Would it be going too far to lie about such a thing to you? Especially given your current mental state.
You didn’t wait for him to reply. You forcefully pressed your lips against his, pushing him back into his seat. “I love you.” You murmured in between kisses. You were barely letting him breathe, suffocating him with your presence in hopes it would get him to reciprocate your feelings.
Maybe you were reaching for something unattainable, desperate for a connection in a place that would ultimately kill you. And yet, deep down, you knew this wasn’t love. It wasn’t even affection in the way you craved. It was something darker, but that didn’t stop you from wanting more. Every time Quaritch was near, you let yourself sink deeper into the dangerous game you were playing.
It all dawned on you as you watched Quaritch suit up. He looked handsome in his army uniform but a bitter feeling was still gnawing at you. He was leaving you just like Jake. He was abandoning you just like Jake.
You held onto Quaritch tightly, begging him once more not to go. Selfridge had to pry you off the Colonel as you sobbed and reached out your hands for him. “Why don’t you love me?!” You repeated in a loud screech, screaming at the top of your lungs. “You’re leaving me like him! You don’t love me! You lied to me! You fucking lied!” In anger, you threw your necklace at him. It hit the ground and you didn’t have a chance to retrieve it as you were dragged away screaming and swearing.
You never saw Quaritch again either. Nor Grace, Trudy, Norm, or Max.
Grace was dead. Trudy was dead. Quaritch was dead. You were under the impression that everybody was dead.
You had been forced into a dark room until you called down out of your maniac state, only seeing the light when a hatch opened to deliver you food. You didn’t know how long you had been sitting on the ground for. It felt like days had passed.
You slowly blinked, hands reaching for a gun hidden in the pockets of your cargo pants. You had taken it from your father’s room out of pure curiosity and forgot to return it. It was only loaded with one bullet but that was all you needed.
You pressed the gun against your head, biting down on your lip. You tasted metal in your mouth and it brought you an odd sense of comfort as your finger squeezed the trigger.
Nobody heard the loud gunshot ring through the air as your limp body fell to the side with a loud thud, blood staining the rough concrete floor.
The last time Jake truly saw you was when your dead body was being buried, the image of your bloodied hands engraved in his mind.
AVATAR TAGLIST (comment to be added/removed): @gruffle1
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musingmeaninglessly · 2 years ago
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In Deep ; Neteyam x Fem!Human! Reader
Summary: When Tuk gets stuck underwater, there's only one person who can save her...
Lil bit angsty, lil bit fluffy. If you're sensitive to matters related to drowning, I suggest you skip this story.
If not, then enjoy! 💙
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"Aaaand, I'm officially done."
Hands burning, you release the final inky braid of your boyfriend's that you've been working on.
Leaning his head back against your lap from his seat on the floor, Neteyam's glimmering eyes meet yours as he beams.
"Thank you, yawntutsyìp, what would I do without you?"
You don't get a chance to answer as he gently pulls your face down to meet his, the glass of your exopack chilly against his forehead. When he finally releases you, he's smiling wider than ever, but the same can't be said for the other figure present.
Sharpening her spear, Neytiri's glare never leaves you. Throughout the six month's worth of courting her son, you've never once been able to win her approval. Seeing her pride and joy be practically polluted by a damned tawtute was not her vision for the eldest Sully child.
And you felt that. Even without the prejudices against your species, what could you possibly offer her family? You lack the basic genetics that make the Na'vi so wondrous, not to mention the survival skills and intelligence. No matter how much Neteyam tells you otherwise, you feel inferior. And Neytiri's hostility doesn't help.
Yet in spite of it al, Neteyam had been defiant of his mother for the first time in his life. And it was all in pursuit of you; his star girl, his little love, his mate.
He catches your worrisome look and follows your eyes over to his mother's. With a sigh, he frowns at her silently, but her eyes remain the same, burning more ferociously than the campfire between you. No one says a thing; well, no one actually gets the chance.
"Help! HELP! It's Tuk!!"
The sound of Kiri's voice is the only thing that snaps Neytiri's attention away from you and her son. The teenage girl sprints over to where you all rise from your seats in a panic. She's gasping for breath and drenched from the ocean's waters.
Neteyam takes a step towards his sister, flashing you a worried, yet warm, look before he does so. Ever the level-headed communicator, he puts a hand on her shoulder, "Kiri, slow down. What's happened?"
"We- me, Lo'ak and Tuk- were free diving, and she spotted that new species of coral- you know, the one Norm told us about?"
Your eyes widened at that- you knew exactly which species she was talking about. A mysterious unnamed specimen with the ability to interact with the energy around it, not dissimilar to the Venus Flytrap plants you'd read about on Earth. Norm had told you all about this new discovery made by one of the botanists, detailing it's features and abilities. It was honestly quite fascinating; powerful, alive, dangerous.
"This new species, yes, I remember." Neteyam's green eyes transform with an amber hue just as Neytiri begins bombarding Kiri with a million questions.
"Well, we went to get a better look at it, and I told Tuk not to touch, but she didn't listen!" Kiri begins to cry, her face wracked with guilt. By this point, several overhearing Metkayina have joined the scene, "It's got her!"
"I can't reach her...the gap in the coral is too small..." Lo'ak suddenly appears on land, visibly exhausted.
"Can't we cut her free?" Neteyam sensibly suggests, but his siblings shake their heads.
"We tried, but whenever you cut a piece, even more grows!" Kiri wailed, prompting Lo'ak to put an arm around her. You make a mental note to suggest the name 'Hydra' to Norm once this is all over. "There's a gap in the coral-"
"-I will go!" Neytiri booms, ridding herself of her bow and spear. Lo'ak, however, stops her in her tracks.
"It's no use, mother! The gap is way too small, I couldn't fit through it..."
You squeeze Neteyam's hand sympathetically, and when his amber eyes meet yours, you get an idea. Amidst all the commotion, the panicked voices and desperate dives into the water, it all becomes crystal clear to you.
"I'll get her out."
Everyone's attention snaps over to you in an instant, not quite believing what you've just said.
"My love, it's far too dangerous! What if the water leaks into your mask?" Neteyam kneels down in front of you, sternness lacing his features. You simply shake your head.
"I'm the only one who can reach her and fit through the gap, I must go."
Neteyam exchanges a worried glance with his siblings, ignoring his mother's scornful expression. Lo'ak and Kiri nod to him, and he knows what he has to do.
"Then I will go with you."
"What's going on?"
Jake suddenly appears with Tonowari, presumably returning from some sort of meeting.
"No time to explain, Dad. Please could you fetch Y/N's spare mask?" Neteyam briefly requests, and is met with a nod of his father's head.
Meanwhile, you hurriedly rid yourself of your blouse. It's a flowing, loose fabric- certainly not appropriate for swimming. With no other choice, you're left in your bra before taking Neteyam's hand and diving into the water.
Lo'ak and Kiri promptly follow, helping you get down to the specific spot. Several other Metkayina follow you in, unable to help, but worried for the youngest Sully.
When you see Tuk, you have to do your best not to panic. She's more-or-less unconscious, limbs entangled in the coral's moving tendrils. Neteyam's grip on your hand tightens, but you place yours on his chest, wordlessly reassuring him, and he lets you go.
Lo'ak helps you over to the small gap in the coral. It's no wonder the siblings struggled, the opening is barely wide enough for a human to fit through. Yet, somehow you do, mindful of the fact that one wrong move would put you in the exact same situation as Tuk. With that in mind, you carefully make your way to her body after taking Lo'ak's knife from him.
There's really no other choice but to cut Tuk free, but you have to make quick work of it. Thankfully, your nimble fingers are up to the task as the Sully siblings watch on desperately.
But, amidst your hard work, you fail to notice that the suction lining of your exopack had come slightly free along your jaw, letting in a small trickle of water and, in turn, a whisper of oxygen out.
Neteyam goes to lunge towards you, noticing a small amount of water build up in your mask. But Lo'ak holds him back, signing that you're fine.
That's what you try to tell yourself as you hold your mask to your face tightly, cutting away at the last couple of coral tendrils. When you give Kiri the signal, she slashes an opening above you, and you haul Tuk's body out of the coral entrapment before the tendrils can grow back.
The rest of it becomes a blur. The Sully siblings are at your side in an instant, hauling you and Tuk up the surface. Your mask continues to fill with water and once it floods above your nose, you hold your breath. But, by some miracle, your head soon breaks through the water's edge above you.
Kiri and Lo'ak take Tuk from you while Neteyam wraps his arms firmly around your waist. "It's going to be alright, my love, we're almost there..."
He continues to murmur to you comfortingly through his own panic, finally reaching Jake and grabbing for the spare mask. "I'm going to take this off, alright?"
You have no time to acknowledge his words before your mask is swiftly swept off of your face and the new, dry, undamaged replacement is secured against your skin. You gasp in jagged breaths, only now processing it all as Neteyam bundles you against him.
"My brave, brave girl..." he whispers into your hair, cupping the back of your head as you both float in the water. For a moment, the both of you seem to forget about Tuk, and it's only when you hear her coughing back on the shore that you remember.
"Oh, thank Ewya!" Neytiri gasps, sobbing hysterically as she reaches to comfort her youngest daughter. "Don't you ever do that again, do you hear me child?!"
Tuk nods with a cry, before rushing over to you. "Y/N, you saved me! Thank you, thank you, thank you..."
The rest of the family smile at the two of you, Jake and Lo'ak thanking you profusely while Kiri joins yours and Tuk's group hug.
"Hey, hey, careful. She needs to breathe..." Neteyam protectively instructs, gently pulling his sisters off of you. You smile at them and mouth a silent 'thank you' to your boyfriend, before turning to hug him as he kneels to your height.
"My love," Neteyam's deep voice draws a soft smile from you as he tenderly cups your cheek, "you were so brave."
You can't help blushing at his praise, but grasp at his hand that's cupping your exopack-covered cheek and pull him closer. "You would've done the same if you could have, ma 'Teyam..."
The longer you hold him, the more pronounced the little sniffles heard from him become. Pulling back, you eye him worriedly, 'What is it, 'Teyam? Are you alright?"
Coaxing his eyes open by running the pads of your fingers beneath them, his tearful irises meet yours. "I could've lost you, little one..."
"But you didn't," you gently remind him, holding his hand over your heart, "I'm here, and I love you. Okay?"
Neteyam nods forcefully, almost as if an absence of the action would make you disappear. Yet, his eyes never leave yours. Not even for a moment.
"I love you...so deeply...even deeper than the waters you just braved for my sister..."
Now it's your eyes that overflow with salty tears and you throw your arms around Neteyam's broad shoulders. "I love you, 'Teyam...Nga yawne lu oer..."
"Y/N,"
The sound of your name breaks up the tender moment prematurely, and you spring away from Neteyam. In truth, you'd forgot that his family, and several people from the Metkayina tribe, were watching.
It had been Neytiri's voice that cut through the sweet moment like a knife through butter. You gulp, craning your neck to face the Sully matriarch, who's shrugging off her mate's hand from her shoulder.
You're surely for it now.
But to your pleasant surprise, she drops to her knees and hangs her head in..shame? Eyes wide, you look at her children and Jake, wondering what on Pandora you're supposed to do now. But they all smile softly.
"Forgive me. I've underestimated you, thought you like them. But you saved my child at your own risk. I was wrong."
You can tell that Neytiri's English isn't quite advanced enough to fully communicate her thanks. But it's there in her eyes.
"Please, forgive me..."
With a gentle nod of your head, you smile. You never expected Neytiri to see you as anything other than a Sky Person, but you really didn't expect her to grab at you and pull you into a hug.
Your arms raise to your side in surprise, and the look on your face is clearly comical enough to make Lo'ak burst out laughing- until Jake smacks him up the side of his head. Tentatively, you return Neytiri's hug. "I forgive you..."
"You are good for my son," Neytiri pulls back to look at you with a warmth you've never seen before, "thank you."
"Okay, Mother, let little Y/N breathe." Neteyam chuckles, gently pulling you back towards him. Neytiri shakes her head at her son's overprotectiveness, but fondly places her hand atop your head for a short moment before returning to fuss over Tuk.
You turn back to Neteyam and a soft hum leaves his lips and his eyes trail over your face, before he notices some Metkayina boys gawking at you. Only then do the both of you realise that you're stood in your bra and a pair of shorts.
"W-we, uh, let's get you back to the lab, get you some more clothes." Neteyam suggests, using his towering advantage to shield your body from prying eyes as his own glare at the intruders.
"Good idea," you giggle, desperate to be a little more concealed now that you're aware of your state, "I could do with a nap."
"I'm not surprised," Neteyam's face softens and he tilts his head, "may I join you?"
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justlillythinking · 2 years ago
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idk where to put requests bc i barely ask for stuff on here but basically my idea was this. neteyam x human reader that is hella funny. friends to lovers type thing where he feels his responsibilities and stress slip away when hes with them. kiss kiss love confession type thing. gn or fem would be cool mookie
neteyam x human!reader imagine
1.7k words
warnings- sfw, mutual pinning, soft fluff, a little angst ? love confessions
also while writing this it was inspired by in love with you by erykah badu and boogie nights/all night by erykah badu
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hanging out with the sullys is always interesting, from going on ikran rides to sneaking on missions. when lo'ak says that you should all go on a ride right before eclipse, neteyam is fast to object.
"come on bro, you know dad is going to slaughter us if we are out at eclipse, lets just go tomorrow."
spider huffs before jumping on lo'aks ikran. god, my brother is such an ass, sometimes i just want to slap him so hard he can't feel his face for a week. i give neteyam a look, us both understanding that the only way to keep our stupid brothers in line is to follow them and keep them safe. he helps me up onto his ikran and we take off after spider and lo'ak, soaring in the calm sunset.
after flying for 10 minutes, spider and lo'ak land somewhere in the floating mountains, neteyam and i follow after them. when we touch down, neteyam picks me up and sets me down; something he loves to do to remind me he’s 3 feet taller than i am.
“fucking skxawng”, i mutter under my breath. before i can even turn around to shoot him a dirty look, he picks me up by my waist with one hand, laughing at me kicking him.
“what was that you just said?” he asks, still laughing at me.
i shoot him the dirtiest glare possible, “ i called you a fucking skxawng, skxawng. now put me down before i rip your braid out.”
neteyam laughs and sets me down, walking away like i huff. we both eventually walk over to spider and lo’ak, sitting beside them and admiring the forrest. we all talk and joke around, laughing about stupid jokes and talking about rumors. we eventually get on the topic of crushes, me teasing spider about his growing crush on kiri, neteyam rolling his eyes like lo’ak complains.
“cuz, come on, that’s my sister i don’t need to know that you want to bang her bro. how would that even work anyways, a human and a na’vi??”
i sigh to myself, knowing what lo’ak says about a human being with a na’vi is true and that neteyam and i will probably never grow to something more than just being friends.
little do i know, neteyam is having the same thoughts, wanting and wishing we could be more than friends, when in reality he knows that kissing me is probably off the table because of my exopack.
the conversation between all of us dissipates as we quiet down, all thinking about different things. i stand up and brush my legs off before saying we should head back so we can be home before eclipse. neteyam agrees while our brothers sigh with “do we have too” and “just like 5 more minutes i swear.”
we eventually all start walking back to the ikrans, lo’ak and spider racing each other. neteyam and i trail behind, talking and shoving each other and laughing. i look at him, the sunset shining on his beautiful blue skin and as it gets darker outside his freckles start shining. i realize that my feelings are futile, but it’s hard to be around the most kind, loyal, protective, beautiful man and not get attached.
i sigh, realizing i have gotten caught up in my own head again. when i look back up at him i see him with a sad smile.
“what’s wrong?” i ask.
“it’s nothing.”
“well it’s got to be something, you’re not usually sad for no reason.”
he sighs and says, “really, it’s nothing. we should try to walk faster so we get back before eclipse.”
he starts walking faster towards the ikrans, making me jog to catch up. i grab his hand and stop walking.
“neteyam, please, don’t keep stuff from me. we are best friends, and when we first became friends you promised to always tell me what’s bothering you.”
“stop digging y/n, i don’t want to talk about it right now. i just want us to laugh and talk like usual right now.”
“just tell me so that i can help you and we can go back to normal.”
“i don’t want to talk about it.”
“nete please-“
“fucking stop y/n, i’m not going going to talk about this with you.”
i stand there shocked, not used to him getting angry. he walks off and i follow after him, confused as to why he’s so mad. i know i shouldn’t have pushed but it’s not like him to be so sad.
when we get back to the ikrans lo’ak and spider immediately notice that something’s off, seeing the look on neteyam’s face. when spider and lo’ak look to me i shrug and shake my head. it’s awkwardly silent before neteyam clears his throat and says, “ y/n, how about you ride with lo’ak and spider rides with me tonight.”
lo’ak and spider both whip around and look to me, about to complain about how it’s never been this way when i just shake my head. spider raises an eyebrow at me but walks over to neteyams ikran anyways. i walk to lo’aks, waiting for his to grab me by the waist to help me but he doesn’t. i climb up, and go to hold onto his waist, but i stop and hold his shoulders.
neteyam and spider take off first, lo’ak and i soon after. we sit in science for a little before he asks, “so what happened?”
i sigh, “he just seemed off. he’s been more distant and sad lately, but i guess that’s just a journey of him becoming a man.”
“yeah well he has been stressed out about the whole ‘becoming a man and choosing a mate’ thing. it’s not like there’s not 20 girls that would die for him to stick it in them,” he snickers.
“ew come on lo’ak that’s disgusting.”
“i mean, i know who im choosing when i become a man.”
“the hottest girl who wants me, duh cuz. i mean that’s skxawng has always been picky, but now it seems like he’s trying to always want what he can’t have.”
“what do you mean?”
“come on cuz, you can’t be that blind. did you notice when he started getting all whiny earlier?”
“no? i mean after we talked i guess?”
“and we talked about what...”
i pause, trying to remember.
“ummmmm we talked about how you wanted to bang that girl we saw that was healing you and neteyam’s dumb asses, we talked about how spider is never going to find a na’vi that wants his tiny ass but let’s be honest, him and kiri totally have something going-“
“no you fucking skxawng we talked about humans and na’vi, then neteyam got all whiny and shit.”
i pause, “so?”
“so who is the human that neteyam spends all his time with?”
i stop.
“you’re saying that neteyam likes me?”
“YES THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING AND YOU CLEARLY LIKE HIM TOO”
i blush and laugh, “ lo’ak, there’s no way he likes me. you said it yourself, he was like 30 hot girls lined up for him.”
“he totally does like you-“
“he totally doesn’t-“
“but you like him anyways. that’s the point, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not because we all know that you two like each other.”
we ride back home in silence, i think about what he has said. could it neteyam actually like me too? is that why he didn’t want to talk about it with me? i wonder what would even happen if he did, it’s not like we could mate.
when we land at home, i get of lo’aks ikran and thank him for telling me. i walk to my tent and lay down, thinking about how this could change everything. i should probably talk to neteyam about it instead of just mulling it over by myself.
i decide to get up and go talk to him, even though i’m scared that lo’ak could be wrong. i mean, what if i talk to him about it and tell him i like him when he doesn’t even like me back? i stand by his family’s tent, not sure if i should go it on not.
while i’m standing there thinking, i don’t notice that neteyam walked up behind me. he taps me on the shoulder and when i turn around i see that it’s him.
“hi.”
“hey?” he says, nervously scratching his neck.
“i think we need to talk, i was about to go in and ask for you.”
“i told you i don’t want to talk about it-“
“lo’ak told me you have a crush on me.”
he stares down at me with wide eyes. i can see his cheeks turn purple as he blushes and he opens and closes his mouth, trying to say something. i grab his hand, my small one grabbing on to 3 of his fingers. i walk us over to my tent, thankfully lo’ak must have gotten spider to stay away for a little.
when we go inside my tent, neteyam looks so nervous that you would think i’m trying to shoot him. he starts rambling, “ listen i don’t know why lo’ak would tell you that because i don’t have a crush on you i mean, you’re my bestfriend that would be kind of weird right? i mean not to say that you’re not funny or pretty, because you definitely are but even if i did like you, i mean how would that even work, i’m na’vi and you’re human and we probably would even be able to kiss because of your exopack and-“
i cut him off, “neteyam, i like you.”
“you do?”
“yeah, i do.”
“but why me, why not lo’ak? or anyone else?”
i look at the floor, “because i don’t want lo’ak. i want you. i want your smile and how funny you are. i want to talk to you and go on your ikran with you. you understand me like no one else. i see you nete.”
i feel a his hand on my chin, guiding me to look up at him. he hugs me, my forehead on his chest.
“i see you y/n,” he says, kissing the top of my head.
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beensbaee · 5 months ago
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𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
summary; neteyam visits his favorite healer after a hard battle
word count; 2.2k
BLOODIED, BUT BEAUTIFUL.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Neteyam staggered into the healers tent, gritting his teeth together as an attempt to keep himself from hissing due to the pain that was coursing through his entire body 
Y/n was speaking to one of her fellow healers, oblivious to Neteyam standing behind her in dire need of her tender hands
He waited patiently, leaning against the entrance of the tent as he took slow breaths to keep himself from passing out as Y/n let out a laugh at whatever the woman she was speaking with said
Finally - she turned around. Her face content until she saw Neteyam - her cry of surprise had him wincing as she rushed over to him, grabbing his arms immediately and leading him to a cot he could lay down on
"Neteyam - you skxawng! Why didn't you try getting my attention earlier! Oh Eywa look at these wounds!" She said mortified, eyes quickly assessing Neteyam's injuries as he managed a smile
"Hello to you too, Y/n. I like your hair today." He said, barely having the strength to lower himself onto the cot in front of him as Y/n sighed
"Thank you." She said angrily, eyes stressed as she quickly reached for her disinfecting ointments with urgent need
He grunted as he laid down in front of her - the injuries over his body were burning and painful - but the familiar smell of the soothing medicines surrounding him and Y/n's scent allowed his body to relax as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes against the cushion laid for patients to rest their head against when being healed
"Teyam, what happened?" She said quietly, looking over his injuries one last time with a sad frown before dipping her hands into the ointment in front of her as her hands lathered it gently into his skin
He sighed, eyes opening as he watched her work with knitted brows. She was looking at him expectedly as she continued applying the green paste onto his skin
"Bad day for the war party." Was what he finally settled on as he let a wince of pain slip through - Y/n's hands quickly stopping at his rare show of suffering as she looked towards him with a knowing look
"Neteyam. I hate seeing you so hurt." She finally whispered, her voice pained as he finally met her gaze - his eyes crinkled with an ache she wished to sooth.
He stayed silent for a few moments, letting her words settle as he slowly moved his hand towards hers. Seeing he was trying to hold her hand, she quickly moved forward and clasped his hands herself so he wouldn't try to move anymore and risk aggravating his wounds any further
"I know. I am sorry." He said quietly as Y/n let out a huff
"How dare you apologize to me! Take it back! You are hurt, Neteyam. Don't you ever try to say sorry to me again when you are the one to deserve it so much more." She said, her tone truly hurt by his words as both of her hands cupped his gently. He ran his fingers over her knuckles as he let out a breathless laugh
"Ok, ok. Sorry -" He started, but was cut off with her letting out a hiss at his use of the word sorry once again
Finally, he let out a laugh that bubbled all the way from his tummy at her reaction as she let a small smile find its way onto her face
"Now, let your body relax. Think of something peaceful to help you. Deep breaths, Neteyam. Understand?" She asked as he nodded his head, closing his eyes as his mind trailed to a certain someone
It was not hard to have her be the sole thing on his mind as she worked diligently - her scent consuming his senses along with her occasional humming as she worked easily eased the tension from his muscles.
He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep - but her gentle hands cradled his face as she whispered his name
"Neteyam, come on yawne."
He didn't open his eyes when he first heard the words - believing he was just dreaming until he felt her soft fingers trace over his eyelids and nose
With lashes fluttering open, he was met with her concerned eyes as she helped him sit up
He let out a groan as he adjusted, but relaxed quickly as he felt the previous pain from his injuries almost gone. Looking down, his abdomen and arms were wrapped lovingly with her signature style - the cloth warm against his skin as he sighed.
"Thank you. I am sorry - was I sleeping for too long?" He asked sleepily, eyes taking in the now empty healers tent and dark sky that loomed outside
"Yes. I did not want to wake you. Did you sleep well?" She asked gently, helping him stand as he held onto her arm for support - eyes blinking away his tiredness as he slowly nodded his head
"I think that was the best sleep I have had in a very long time." He answered, his hands moving from her arms and around her as he enveloped Y/n in a hug, resting his head against hers as she smiled against his skin
"Well, thank Eywa I didn't let anyone wake you." She laughed quietly as he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head
"Thank you." He said quieter now as Y/n's cheeks quickly tinted with surprise while she blinked, stunned and trying to process what he had just done
Seeing her surprise, he displayed a lazy smile as her ears perked up
"You're welcome. You know, I'd do anything for you." She said softly as he nodded his head
"And I'd do anything for you, Y/n. But you already knew this." He said as she finally rolled her eyes, her sweet smile peeking through as Neteyam grinned at the sight of it
"Tonight, I walk you home." She said, her voice gentle but firm as Neteyam shook his head
"But-" He started, but she gave him a look that had him quieting in a instant as she smiled
"Come on, now. You are in no condition to walk to even your own quarters, let alone mine. Let's go." She reasoned, her hand moving to his palm as she led him out of the tent and towards the familiar path of his families sleeping area
They walked through the resting na'vi silently, Neteyam's hand never leaving hers as the sounds of Pandora's distant night animals filled the silence
She stopped a few meters away from his families quarters, respecting the fact that they were sleeping inside and not wanting to intrude any further as she turned to Neteyam
He looked beautiful in the moonlight. His freckles glowed in the dim light, and she could see the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her.
"Now, you are going to go inside, and go back to sleep. No doing anything else, your injuries need rest." She instructed, his eyes never leaving hers as he listened - nodding his head along to whatever she said
"You see, the wounds you acquired from today were all over your body. To be able to make a full recovery - Neteyam! Are you even listening to a word that I am - " 
But she was cut off by him leaning towards her and pressing his soft lips against hers, his head tilting downwards as she was pressed flush against him - his palms holding her face so lovingly as any sound of surprised that left her lips was silenced by his mouth
Blinking away her shock, she leaned in to him as his arms came up and around her - holding her against him so lovingly that she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes and deepening the passionate kiss
Finally, she broke away from him - lips pink and cheeks alight as she blinked rapidly - her mouth was parted as she struggled to even form a single word. He laughed - a real laugh that had a slow smile creeping onto her face as she tried to look away from him and hide the growing blush she could feel creeping up her neck
But his hands grabbed her face and turned her towards him - his eyes so happy that she couldn't even make herself look away as he began speaking
"How are you going to leave after this? And you know I will not sleep soundly if I do not know you returned back to your bed safely." He whispered as she looked at him silently - eyes round with love as he smiled
"You said it yourself. I am in no condition to walk you to your quarters and back - and I cannot sleep without knowing you are safe - which is something I need to do, according to you, so my wounds heal." He added, a playful glint in his magnificent eyes
"Are you suggesting I stay with you tonight?" She questioned, and his grin broadened as he nodded
"It is nothing shameful. I am making sure my dearest friend is safe with me." He added, his fangs peaking through that same incomparable smile she was so infatuated with as she shook her head, trying to contain her giggles as he reached for her hand
"Come on. You can lay in my hammock, and I can sleep on the ground." He said, mumbling the last words quietly and hoping she wouldn't hear - but unfortunately, the gasp she let out as her eyes snapped towards his let him know she'd heard him perfectly fine
"You sleep on the ground? That better not have been what you said." She exclaimed, brows pulled together and concerned as he rolled his eyes and laughed whilst leading her into his families sleeping quarters
She entered hesitantly, Neteyam turning back to look at her with an encouraging nod of his head as she observed the peacefully sleeping Sully's. They moved quietly to ensure no one was awakened.
He moved to lay in his hammock - which was thankfully large enough for both of them to comfortably lay on as he moved over and outstretched his arm towards her
She laid down, tucking her hands under her face as she laid on her side to look at him. He whispered how pretty she looked and she smiled - swatting his hand away and telling him once again how important sleep was for him as he sighed contently - arms wrapping around her as Y/n rested her head against his chest gently
They'd never been this intimate before - but she loved how natural it felt as their friendship had always been one consisting of them being close to each other. 
She said she'd wake up before the sun was up to walk back to her tent, and Neteyam said he'd walk her there in the early hours of the nearing morning.
Normally she would've awakened in time - but she'd spent the night whispering and giggling with the boy who laid beside her. He was no better, laughing so much that the girl would have to press her palm against his mouth to quiet him. They must have fallen asleep hours later - enveloped in each other's warmth.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Jake stumbled as Lo'ak tugged him along, bouncing like a maniac with one of the widest smiles ever plastered on his face. Neytiri trailed behind the two, fuming at Lo'ak for waking them up - the boy had even been pulling on their hair to get them out of bed and insisting they had to come and see what he had to show them that second
"Lo'ak, boy this better be good or else you are in big tr-" Jake grumbled, but his own voice trailed off as Lo'ak stopped in front of his big brothers hammock 
"Look, guys." He snickers, poking Neteyam's cheek, who laid sleeping - a young girl tucked under his arm as the two slept soundly.
Jake's mouth only hung open as Neytiri stepped forward, carefully examining the two before letting out a pleased gasp once she recognized the girl
"What is Y/n doing here?" Neytiri asked, a smile on her face as she watched her son hold the girl close to him
Jake blinked, shaking his head before answering
"I came to the healer tent to get Neteyam - she shooed me away, said he was sleeping. She was gonna bring him to bed too, I guess she fell asleep here." He said, brows furrowed - confused but happy as he saw how peaceful Neteyam looked as he slept.
Lo'ak looked from his mother to his father, back in forth in disbelief as his mouth hung open
"Are you telling me he is not in trouble?!" He practically shreiked as Neytiri yelped, slapping the back of his neck and telling him to hush
But the two teens stirred, eyes peeking open as Y/n quickly sat up - her eyes adjusting to who stood in front of her before they widened - completely horrified
Neteyam lazily sat up beside her, a sleepy smile on his face as Y/n covered her mouth - shaking her head and muttering someone kill me as Neteyam looked towards his parents and brother
"Good morning." Were the words he'd said, stretching his arms as Y/n bowed her head and covered her face, mortified. Jake and Neytiri's laughter filled the air only moments later.
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makoodles · 1 year ago
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ミ the mightiest
part 1 | part 2
🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!
adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!
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The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.
It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.
Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.
It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.
Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.
“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.
You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.
“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.
Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.
“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.
He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”
“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.
“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”
Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.
“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”
Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.
“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”
You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.
“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”
There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.
“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”
God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.
“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”
That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.
You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.
And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.
Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.
“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.
You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.
“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”
Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.
“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.
His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.
Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.
If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.
In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.
Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.
And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.
His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.
“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.
It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.
“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.
A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.
“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.
You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.
You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.
He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.
“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.
“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.
Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.
Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”
Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.
“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.
Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.
For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.
“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”
As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.
Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.
You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”
He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”
And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.
“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.
Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.
“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.
But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.
You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.
Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.
Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.
“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”
He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!
“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.
You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.
But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.
As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Problem?”
His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”
You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.
The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.
In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.
In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.
You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.
You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.
Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.
But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.
He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.
God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.
Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.
You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.
“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.
You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”
There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.
“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”
Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.
“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.
“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.
You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.
You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.
Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.
Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.
You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.
“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.
You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.
“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.
Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.
Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.
You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.
"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.
In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.
"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.
The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.
Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.
Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.
“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”
Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”
You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”
Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.
“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”
Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.
When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.
"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.
"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."
You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”
“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.
You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.
But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.
His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.
It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.
You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.
“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.
“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”
“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”
You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”
Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.
If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.
You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.
“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.
You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.
“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.
“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.
“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.
Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.
“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.
He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.
Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.
The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.
Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.
“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”
You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.
“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”
Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.
“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”
Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.
“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”
And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.
And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.
Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.
Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.
“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”
“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.
Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.
This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.
His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.
It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.
You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.
You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.
“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”
He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”
It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.
“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”
Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.
“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”
Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.
“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”
Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?
“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”
Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”
Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”
You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.
“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”
Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.
“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.
“Hey–”
As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.
Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.
Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.
You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.
“Tawtute?”
You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.
“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.
Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”
You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.
You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.
But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.
You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.
Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.
You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.
Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.
There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.
The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.
When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.
“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”
You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.
“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”
“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.
Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.
“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”
“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”
You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.
Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.
You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.
You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.
“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”
You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.
“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.
His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.
“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.
It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?
Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.
“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”
“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.
It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.
“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”
Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”
“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”
Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.
“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.
You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.
“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”
Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.
You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.
“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.
“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”
You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.
“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”
“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.
When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.
Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.
You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.
“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”
“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”
Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.
“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”
The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.
Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.
You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.
You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.
All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.
But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.
“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”
Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.
Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.
“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.
Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.
“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.
There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.
“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.
This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.
Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.
You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.
At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.
“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.
He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.
“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.
“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.
You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.
Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.
“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.
“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.
Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.
It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.
Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.
Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.
Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.
He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.
You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.
“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.
Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.
You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.
It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.
Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.
Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.
Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.
You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.
You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.
Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.
Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.
Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.
He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.
Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.
It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.
“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.
“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”
“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”
You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.
“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.
“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”
Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.
“Y-yes.” You say.
Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?
“How would you like me to–”
“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.
Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.
The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.
What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.
“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”
“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”
And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.
Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.
“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"
You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.
Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.
“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.
Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.
“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.
You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.
Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.
“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.
What the fuck?
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strawberri-blonde · 1 year ago
Text
Spoiling the Prince - Neteyam
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Photo credits to the talented @cinetrix
Summary: You treat Neteyam to a picnic and something else😏
Warning: Smuttt just Neteyam getting the blowjob he deserves.
Masterlist
Happiness filled every bit of your body as giggles escaped your heart-shaped lips while tugging an excited Neteyam along. Your four-fingered hand intertwined with the Olo’eyktan’s oldest son, and you pulled him eagerly along the forest floor. "Yawne, calm down." As Neteyam’s voice rang through your ears, you didn’t pay him much mind as you were looking for the landmark that you carved into a tree to guide the both of you towards the little surprise that you had set up just hours ago. "Where are we going?" This time, you stopped in your tracks once you saw the tree.
Turning around, you grabbed Neteyam's other hand with your own and pulled it up towards your lips, littering his palms with kisses. Of course, his once-blue cheeks turned a slight purple from your affection. "Nete…" You pulled his hands into your chest and looked up to his golden eyes with so much love that it had the boy purring. "I know how much your training takes up your time." Hearing those words, Neteyam's ears flattened, feeling guilty that the two of you haven't had that much time together. Seeing this expression, you let go of his hands to cup his face into your grasp. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips against his.
Neteyam couldn't resist pulling you closer to his strong, lean body. This week had been tough because his dad had been pushing him hard during training, especially since he's next in line to be clan leader. But right now, as Neteyam deepened the kiss by parting his lips and running his tongue across your bottom lip, it took everything in you to pull away. "I have something planned for us," you trailed off to caress his face one more time before dropping your hands to your waist, where his hands were drawing small, intimate circles. "I really set this all up for you." This made Neteyam's tail sway back and forth with curiosity.
The young man didn’t protest as you pulled him towards the tree that grew near a rock wall. “Just trust me.”
"Always Y/n," Neteyam said with a smile, which made you smile too, as you both climbed up the tree with ease. His movements were confident and fluid, as if he had climbed the tree before, even though you both knew he hadn't. As you reached the last thick branch, you held Neteyam's hand while you both walked down it, feeling the rough bark against the souls of your feet. The branch was secure against the flat top of the rocks, which had been smoothed over time by the elements. You both jumped onto the tall wall of rocks, which had molded together over the years, forming a natural barrier. As you walked across the moss-covered boulder, feeling the softness of the moss under your feet, you still held Neteyam's hand, feeling safe and secure with him by your side.
“It's this way," you said, approaching what looked like a bed of leaves, but it was actually a covering you'd woven together to hide the large opening of the rock. Neteyam barely saw the bottom of the hideaway from the darkness. "I wanted to keep it a secret," you said, holding onto the blanket and motioning for Neteyam to venture through the cave.
The young man gazed at his mate, and seeing the excitement on every part of your face, Neteyam didn't second-guess his trust for you. He carefully squeezed through the narrow opening and used the existing rocks that resembled steps to enter the dark cave. Leaf litter, along with broken twigs and moss, covered the cave's floor. Surprisingly, a sliver of light hit the rock walls, giving the boy a nice view of you covering the opening with the disguise you had crafted so beautifully. Noticing the wet leaves that he somehow managed to avoid while entering the cave, he sprang over to you, gripping your elbow to help guide you down. This, however, had you swooning. "Ma Neteyam, I've been here before." Both of your laughs echoed in the cave as the boy watched you carefully as you hopped down from the last step, pulling him closer to you.
“Obviously.” His mocking tone had you giggling before mimicking him back.
“Obviously.” Pressing your face into his warm chest, you both took an inhale of each others scents that meshed so well together; tree bark and grass.
Neteyam inhaled your wonderful scent before pressing kisses onto your hairline. “I can’t believe you found this place.” This cause another giggle to escape your lips.
"Oh, you don't think this is it, do you?" you ask, making the boy look down at you with confusion. You smile widely as you pull back but still hold onto his hands. You love holding Neteyam's hands. They are so strong but so gentle with you. "Where do you think the light is coming from?" This has Neteyam tilt his head, making a huge grin appear on his handsome face, exposing his teeth.
"Yawne-" you turn around, reaching your hand behind you, not bothering to look back, knowing that he'll grab onto you. As his soft but calloused hand grabs you just beyond your elbow, you reach the end of the cave and press a hand on the dewy surface. Neteyam's hand caresses your skin as it slides down to your hand, entangling your fingers together, making it so your palms are touching.
"Look," you say, gesturing upward towards the corner of the rocky wall where a faint light illuminates his handsome features. “It looks like it's a hole by the way the light shines..." You pull the boy to your side as you begin to walk sideways with your front still facing the back wall. "But really," you both reach the end, and you squeeze through a small opening from where the wall doesn't meet the existing rock. With his tall height, Neteyam ducks through the oval-shaped hole, letting you lead him through. "It's just trying to hide this treasure." Neteyam's eyes first hit yours before trailing along the grove. His golden eyes widen in awe, and his thin lips stretch out in a small gap, causing you to immediately fill up with pride.
“Ma Y/n,” as you step in front of the boy and tugged him towards the beautiful pond, that’s when his words began to stumble. “Where did you find this?” He laughed in disbelief as he saw a woven mat that clearly had to be made out of razor palm leaves; near the sandy bank. Nestled on top of the beautiful woven art piece was a lovely picnic, set up with a vibrant color scheme with delicious, fresh fruits. The blanket is covered in flower petals arranged in the shape of a heart, creating a beautiful and romantic atmosphere. The fruits are arranged in a colorful display, with juicy yovo fruit, ripe lionberry seeds, and sweet spartan. The colors of the fruits pop against the green mat, and the sweet aroma of the fruits and flowers fills the air. The set up was quite beautiful and only adds to the magic of the moment. “And what is this about. I didn’t forget anything did I?”
You toyed with his fingers that were still intertwined with yours. With a playful shake of your head, you spoke, "No, my prince, this is for you like I said earlier." Your doe eyes caused the boy to visibly melt. "I wanted to surprise you and let you know how much I love and appreciate you." Your soft, velvety voice made its way through Neteyam's ears, rendering him speechless. Without hesitation, he brought your hands to his chest while keeping a strong hold on them. He kissed you with all the passion he could muster up.
Your brain short-circuited as you felt his soft lips against your own. When his tongue poked at your entrance, you slowly opened your mouth and lightly bit down on the muscular organ that made its way into your warm, wet mouth. Neteyam's hands dropped down to your waist, squeezing them in need, while his rough fingers slipped along the thin fabric of your loincloth. "Teyam," you moaned out, frustrated with yourself as you pushed him away, not allowing him to ravish you where he stood. This was about him.
"Ma'Y/n." His tone was teasing, but the desperation could be heard clearly. You nudged your nose against his, pressing tender kisses on his face out of your own selflessness. He had the best face to kiss.
“Ma’teyam let me feed you.” Neteyam’s cock hardened at your innocent words being turned into the dirtiest thoughts.
"Yawne, let me have my meal." You grab onto his strong jaw in your hands as he leans down to press an open-mouthed kiss on your neck, right in that spot that makes you lose control. Feeling your loincloth get damp, you shook your head, pulling yourself together.
After you said, "Neteyam, I'm serious," he mumbled a 'me too' that had you giggling like a young Na'vi chasing after a beautiful-winged insect. You pulled him towards the woven mat and immediately sat down on the bright purple evanescence flowers that were soft to the touch. You helped guide him down by criss-crossing his legs. Then, you stood on your knees to shimmy closer to him before plopping down, basically leaning all over his body.
Neteyam wrapped his left arm around your waist as you pulled away from him for a moment to grab the end-grain wood cutting board that shows all the beautiful tree-rings. The wooden tray displayed the various fruits, making Neteyam's mouth water for more than one reason. "It's all your favorites, yawne." You picked up the cut-up piece of spartan fruit, letting its sweet sticky juices run down your fingertips. "I gathered them all for you, even this spartan fruit. It was hard to find-"
"Since it's been too hot and the fruits have been drying up before they even ripe," he cut you off, with pure happiness and joy shining through his amber eyes. You smiled proudly as you pressed the purple and blue fruit to his lips, allowing him to open his mouth and consume the sticky sweet fruit. As his teeth sank into the juicy spartan, the nectar dripped down his chin. The sweetness of the fruit was almost overwhelming, and the stickiness of the juice made Neteyam's desire for you grow. Since you both mated just over a year ago, spartan had been his favorite fruit. Each bite was a burst of flavor that left him yearning for the nectar that resided between your legs.
"I looked for hours," you mumbled as you licked away the juices from his chin, only to place another piece of fruit into his mouth. This time, he licked your fingers clean, making your heat throb and clench around nothing but need. "Only the best for my big, strong mate," you said, and the growl that rumbled in his chest caused goosebumps to scatter across your blue skin.
After Neteyam said, "Yawne, you can't say such words and not expect me to kiss you," he pulled you into a kiss. Your lips moved freely against one another, but you eventually pulled away after lifting up a lionberry seed to bring it to his mouth.
"Patience Teyam, we have all day, even into the evening," you said. This caused the Omitikaya warrior to lift an eyebrow, letting you continue to feed him. "Lo'ak is entertaining your father while Kiri is with your mother."
“Yeah but-” you pushed another lionberry seed into his mouth shutting him up.
Speaking with nothing of pride you admitted, "I even bribed Tuk." Neteyam's eyes widened, and he let out a laugh.
“Not my little sister.” You let out a chuckle yourself, watching as Neteyam grabbed another piece of spartan then reached for the yovo fruit.
"All it took was agreeing to a sleepover next week, and I have to make another wooden Ikran, specifically a purple and turquoise one," you said while setting the wooden circular tray on the mat to grab Neteyam's hand, licking off the juices finger by finger. "But it was worth it," you added, looking into his eyes. Neteyam groaned in response, and you giggled, feeling a rush of affection for him. You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on his velvet lips, "because my prince needs to be pampered and a little spoiled."
Neteyam was overcome with desire as your words filled the air like a fog. His heart pounded wildly, and he felt an animalistic instinct surge through him. He wanted you, and he could feel his body responding to his desire. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his lap, pressing his hard, toned body against yours. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he held you tightly as he kissed you passionately. Your breathing became heavy as you circled your hips to meet his greedy thrusts, and you felt his tongue explore your mouth. Gripping his shoulders for support, you felt a sense of pleasure as he pulled away from your lips to leave open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
As he placed soft kisses on your neck, you let out gentle moans, feeling the pleasure of his touch. You yearned for more, but the reality of the moment reminded you that you both couldn't continue here. You wished to take care of him as he takes care of you every day, despite his busy schedule training to become the next clan leader. To him, making you his wife was the easiest job on the planet, and you felt grateful for his love and devotion. “Teyam.”
As you pulled away from the passionate moment, you felt a deep connection between you and him. You slid your hands from his shoulders down to his chest, and let out a soft moan. You looked into his eyes and said, "Come on." Gently pushing his chest, you took his hands in yours and led him towards the blue waters of the hidden cove.
"You're killing me, yawne," Neteyam said with a smile as you guided him to sit on the large, smooth rocks covered in soft moss that you had put in place to provide a worthy throne for the next in line.
"Who would have known that the mighty warrior is such an impatient child?" you asked. Neteyam's face heated up at your words, and his ears flattened against his head as he continued to settle into the soft, lime-green moss.
"Only for you, my mate," Neteyam whispered sweetly. His words made your heart soar, and your body throbbed with need. You pushed him back gently, as his legs were sprawled out with the water barely reaching halfway up his thick thighs. Without hesitation, you kissed his entire right thigh, loving the sound of his low grunts. "Thata girl," Neteyam said, using an English phrase that he must have learned from his father. Strangely enough, he never let it escape his lips until it was something intimate like this, and you loved it. If you weren't already a slave to his manly charms, you would have fallen under his spell like a woman in heat.
You pulled away from his legs and cupped his handsome face in your hands, giving his mouth sensual, open-mouthed kisses. "I'm gonna be your good girl," you whispered, the desperation and rawness of your voice making Neteyam's cock throb with desire. Kissing him again, you nibbled on his bottom lip and pushed into his chest, gliding down his body until your bottom half was covered in the warm water. "I'm going to be the prince's good girl, his most loyal servant," you said, your voice full of promise.
Neteyam's gaze was so intense that it felt like a bolt of electricity, sending shivers down your spine and making every nerve in your body tingle with desire. You were already on your knees for him, but his lustful look had you feeling like you could collapse at any moment. The intensity of his desire and need was almost overwhelming, and your body couldn't help but react with a surge of pleasure. The warmth of his gaze spread like a wildfire. You could feel your once blue skin turning a soft lavender hue. As your breathing became heavy and mind clouded with his fog, you felt myself melting into his embrace, completely consumed by his passion.
"I thank the Great Mother for you every morning," Neteyam rasped, his voice pulling you out of the fog of desire, but only for a moment. Gripping his thighs, you offered your mate a sweet smile before kissing, licking, and even sucking onto his skin that rested on his lower abdomen. You went so low that your chin was becoming irritated from the material of his loincloth. "Every evening," Neteyam moaned as his hips thrust forward, trying to find some kind of release, but you just kept going. "Every waking moment, my love," he continued, his confessions filling your heart with emotion.
"Teyam," you moaned against his warm skin, pulling away to capture his lips in yours once more. "Help me untie you." Without question, Neteyam leaned forward to begin untying his loincloth. As he did so, the pond's water began to form ripples which then softly turned to little waves that only managed to make the both of you wetter. Neteyam almost had his cock on display, but before he could reveal it to you, you pushed him back with one last kiss to the lips. As you returned to eye level with his crotch, Neteyam snuck in a sensual forehead kiss. "You're such a strong, loving mate who provides," you whispered, and the truth was that the boy felt like he could just cum from your words alone. You made sure to take your time as you kissed the junction of his legs that met his groin, trailing your act of love towards his abdomen. Meanwhile, your right hand couldn't help but stroke his covered member ever so slowly. "I just want to thank you," you said, lifting the material slightly and offering Neteyam your innocent doe-eyes. "Can I do that, Teyam? Can I make you feel good like you make me feel everyday?"
"Fuck," the Omatikaya warrior fell apart just like that. "You really are some angel, aren't you?" You didn't respond; you just pressed an open-mouthed kiss along his clothed cock. "Y/n, please," he begged. You squeezed his massive cock in your hands, pressing the still-covered tip to your lips. "Please, Y/n, touch me."
"That's my prince," you whispered, finally pulling away the soaked garnet that somehow managed to hide his massive size. "Soo big," you moaned, throwing the material on the dry side of the bank, then collecting his cock in your hands, making them look small. "I’m so lucky," you kissed the tip, wanting to have his taste in your mouth. However, this made the man jerk his hips from the sensation sending water droplets splashing your face. "Don't worry, Teyam." Twisting your hands in opposite directions around his pulsing member you pulled away to hold him in your right hand, then applied open-mouthed kisses along the whole length. "I promised, I'd take care of you."
You licked a straight line up from the base of his balls to the tip, making sure to give it the attention it so desperately needed. “Fuck.” You pulled back with a pop, only to go right back to work licking up and down his cock loving the taste of his pre-cum. Your hands scratched down his thighs while you took him in your mouth fully. Neteyam’s breathing became louder and more passionate making you want to hear more. So, you cupped his balls in your left hand, giving them a good squeeze, then jerked his cock in a steady motion. You opened your mouth, tapping his purple tip on your tongue a few times before taking him as far as you could until his thick cock touched the back of your throat. “Yawne, you’re so good at this.” You let out a hum, sending vibrations along his member, making Neteyam drop his head back, letting out low and throaty moans. “Great Mother.”
Humming again you pulled away with a load gasp but quickly covered it up with your words. “Praying for me Teyam?” You continued to jerk him off then leaned down to lick his balls. “Praying for this tight pussy.” Neteyam couldn’t help but reach forward to grabbed onto your braids, bring your face more towards him. You opened your mouth wider, swallowing around the soft but hard round skin.
You fumbled them only for a brief minute before licking up his shafted again to take his tip in your mouth sucking on it hard. ‘Oh yeahs,’ left his swollen lips as you took him as far as you could. “Thata girl.” Hearing those words, you stayed put swallowing around him, to only pull away in a gagging fit. Giving yourself a brief moment to recover you gave his cock long and hard tugs. You loved how wet his cock was from your salvia although some might say the pond water also played a big part in that factor.
Returning to work, you began to kitten lip his tip, then started to bob your head up and down his member. You felt the tightness of his grip in your hair and the way his legs were struggling to stay still, which would always have you thinking of this moment when you hear any kind of water splashing. He was enjoying himself, and if your bottom half wasn't in a pool of water, you're sure that your loincloth would've been soaked with your own juices. With hollow lips, you could taste his precum on your tongue, which sent your pussy clenching around nothing. "It tastes oh so good," you mumbled, taking him deep in your mouth again, making the Prince thrust into you a few times, then held you in place, letting you pull back with a gasp. "Fuck my throat so good, yawne."
“Do I?” This had Neteyam hold you down with both hands gripping your head as his eyes roll back at the feeling of you chocking on his dick. “Fuck, yawne you’re gonna make me cum.” Breathing through your nose, you could feel tears swell in your eyes but you didn’t care.
You pulled back with a choked moan and wrapped both hands around his throbbing member, twisting them nice and firm. "Give it to me," you said in a sultry tone, which made Neteyam tighten his fist and let out loud grunts that sounded like music to your ears. "I need your cum, Neteyam. It's so good." You kissed the tip of his cock one last time before taking him into your mouth, loving the way he bruised the back of your throat.
"That's right, baby," Neteyam moaned, feeling nothing but pure ecstasy as he was surrounded by the water of the pond. He could feel the tightness of your throat and the way your hands felt on the rest of his shaft and balls. "Don't stop," he panted out, feeling you moan around him, encouraging him to continue. "Right," he moaned, feeling the familiar tightness in his abdomen. "There." The strained, raw tone in his face had you still your movements, letting the blue man fuck in your mouth. And with just a few more thrusts, Neteyam had his goodness shooting down your throat, the passion of the moment almost too much to bear.
You didn't move a muscle until you knew your mate was done riding out his high. You popped off him with a satisfying moan, opening your mouth for your prince to show him the mess he made. "So good, Teyam," you said, jerking his sensitive cock, making him squirm. "Tastes like my favorite treat. Puffball tree leaves, salty," you licked him clean, making the boy caress the side of your cheek. "But sweet."
"Give me a taste." Without waiting for your response, Neteyam wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up out of the water until you were sitting on his lap, then he pulled you into a deep kiss. A cold breeze danced its way across your warm bodies, making the atmosphere humid. Through the tense and hot air, the boy let his hands roam your body, while yours remained on his jawline, closer to his neck. Neteyam slipped his tongue into your warm mouth, exploring the taste of himself on your tongue. Moaning at the taste, you felt vibrations shiver down your spine. "It's not as good as you," you moaned as his confession causing you to slowly starting to grind on his semi-hard cock. "Let me show you." Feeling him pull away to kiss down your neck, you almost let yourself be swept away in him, but you weren't done with your surprises. This was about him.
“Nete,” you let out a high pitch moan as he moved your decorative chest pieces out the way to suck on your tit. Why was he making this so hard?
“That feel good, yawne?” Your mouth opened wider not even being able to breathe properly.
"Wait, Neteyam," you moaned, slipping your fingers into the back of his head, pulling him slightly to signal him to look up. "I'm not done."
He smirked up at you. "Yeah, me neither." Then, his hot mouth moved over to the other nipple, making you squirm in his lap.
"But this is about you. I wanted to spear a fish to cook for you, to feed you, my prince." The man's desire was clear as he bit down on your mound, sucking firmly, then pulled off to press it an open-mouthed kiss. He felt lucky to have someone like you, who only wanted to take care of him, but he was hungry for something else.
"Y/n, you know what would make your prince happy?" Your breathing became irregular as Neteyam lifted you up with ease, then set you gently down onto the soft moss. He kissed down your neck, kissing your nipples again before continuing. "You not denying me for the second time on devouring my favorite meal." And who were you to deny the future Olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan?
Hoped you guys liked it!
~ Caroline
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moonlightsolo · 2 years ago
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Can you do one of neteyam and avatar reader you love art so he lets you paint on him and he’s really cute and interested in your passion <3
omg yes THANK U FOR THIS. i love to paint irl so i had so much fun writing this!
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your legs straddle neteyams hips, sitting atop of him as he lays down on his back against a bed of moss. it’s normal to sit on him like this when you’re simply having a conversation, especially when he comes back after a long day of hunting; he usually swoops you off of your feet and takes you somewhere private in the forest. mostly to catch up…
…and to do some other things you can’t usually do around camp. he knows you miss him when he’s away, so we wants to soak up as much of you during his free time.
your hands are currently busy illustrating your day as you talk, “so kiri and i made paints today, we went out and foraged for plants to create these super bright pigments!” you exclaim excitedly, “i have pinks, blues, reds, oranges, even whites!” you count on your fingers, “they’re all so beautiful. i just can’t wait to try them out.”
neteyam watches you in awe from his position, a permanent grin on his lips. he adores you so much, and hearing you passionately ramble about one of your hobbies fills his heart with joy.
“my love, you are sooooo beautiful.” he blurts out, his eyes sparkle under the sunlight that streaks through the trees towering above your bodies. he can’t help but let his hand knead at your thigh.
you can’t help but giggle at his compliment as you stare down at him, “did you hear anything i just said?”
the boy underneath you hums in response, the sound vibrates your body, “yeah… you made paints with kiri… blah, blah, blah, aaand now i wanna see you make somethin’ with them.”
your face brightens at his words, “wait really?!” you shriek softly from the pure excitement that fills you.
neteyam cackles and digs his head back into the ground, “yes, of course, ma syulang.” the little nickname makes your heart flutter in satisfaction. his flower.
“where? i can go back to camp real quick to grab some paper— or try to find something around here…” your eyes look around the expanse of the jungle around you, but the tightening grip on your hips makes you spin your head back to look down at him.
“no, i don’t want you to leave me.” he whines as his touchy hands slide up your sides. his fingers press into the flesh of your lower back to push you towards him, lowering your torso so your chests are flush again each other.
his lips ghost over yours teasingly, making you giggle into the very little space between your faces. “how about you just use me?” he mumbles.
“use you? what do you mean?” your face crinkles in confusion, slightly lifting up from his face by pushing your hands on his chest.
“to paint— ya know, on me.” his eyes flutter over your face with a sheepish grin.
“you want me to paint on you?” you almost gasp in shock, mouth falling open as you grin.
“i just said that.” neteyam rolls his eyes playfully with a cheeky smirk, which makes you swat at his chest. you finally fill the space between your faces by kissing him, giving him a long peck before sitting up.
neteyams lips chase after yours, following you up and leaning back on his elbows. you busy yourself looking through the bag that crosses over your chest and sits on your hip. you grab the containers of your paint, and push down on his shoulder to have him lay back down.
“fine..” he grumbles, giving up his advances to try and kiss you some more. you lay out the containers over the long expanse of his torso, using him as your easel.
you pluck a few brushes from the pocket inside your bag, smiling as your finger brushes over the soft bristles. “what do you want painted on you?” your voice is soft, almost nervous.
what if it turns out to be ugly and he has to walk around with an ugly painting on his body from his girlfriend?
“anything.” he lays back with his arms behind his head, slightly wiggling his hips under you to get comfortable. the subtle movement makes you blush from the heat that settles in your lower belly.
you pop open the bright fuschia color, dipping your brush inside of the container to soak the brush. your eyes dart over his smug face as you lean closer to his chest to focus.
the brush moves smoothly across the expanse of his upper body, swirling the paint over his collarbone and down his pectoral muscle, “ooh that tickles.” he jerks under the paintbrush, making you giggle and sit up to look at him with a joking scowl.
“sit still, you’re gonna mess up my art.” you slightly dip into the orange color to highlight the pink, flicking the paint to make little spikes around the swirl.
neteyam admires your face as you focus, almost cooing at you from your little tongue sticking out between your lips. he tilts his head to the side watch your tail sway in the air behind you. all he wants is to grab you and kiss all over your cute little face.
one of his hands unravel from behind his head to rest on top of your head, his thumb swipes across your forehead to smooth out the crinkle between your eyebrows.
you smile up at him bashfully while your hand continues to paint different colors across his striped blue skin. the pigments you picked out contrast greatly to the color of his skin, his chest slowly becoming a piece of art.
the brush pokes at his chest as you create random dots around the swirls, smiling when you sit back to admire your work. “i love it.” you mumble before hunching back down to continue with a different color.
neteyams eyes dart from between you and the blue sky that barely peeks through the canopy of the trees. he can look at all the beauty around him but all he can focus on is you. the girl who is straddling his chest and painting ever so softly across his skin.
he wouldn’t dare to tell you this though. he’s too scared to share his true feelings that he's falling for you faster than he thinks you're falling for him.
after about a few more minutes, and swipes of different colors you sit up to examine the painting that cascades down his chest. you add a few more dots with a triumphant smile, “i really outdid myself.” you laugh proudly as you pack away your painting supplies.
“oh did you?” neteyam chuckles, bringing his chin down to look over his colorful chest. his mouth drops dramatically once he sees it, “it’s amazing. seriously, you’re going to paint only me from now on. never will anybody else touch me with paint unless it’s from your hands.”
your hands cover your grin that seemingly seems like it will never falter, “stop it…” you breathe out, shaking your head from his silly words.
“no, you’re like magic. i’ve seen your other work, but i cannot grasp how your brilliant little mind works like this.” he sits up from his spot, now face-to-face with you; he’s careful to not crease the wet paint. one of his hands grip your wrists to pull them away from your face.
“‘teyam…” you sheepishly mumble, staring down at your lap with a shy smile. the feeling of heat travels from your lower belly to your upper extremities. it settles on your cheeks, and the tips of your ears with as a pink glow. he could praise you a million times, and you still wouldn’t be used to it.
“hhhmm? am i making you blush?” he teases you as his hand slides down from your cheek to your chin to angle your face up. his big round eyes look over your face, his smile mirroring yours.
“you aaarrrre.” you whine, leaning forward to press your forehead against his.
he continues to stare at you though his eyelashes, “good. i like making you blush.” he pecks your nose, “especially if it’s when i compliment my very talented girl.”
your hands swat at his chest playfully, “oh hush.” you grumble.
neteyam places his large hands onto your hips, his long fingers thrum against your lower back, “i think it’s time we go show off the beautiful art my gorgeous girl made. you'll make everyone in the clan jealous.” his knees angle up to press against your back, you're now sitting in the valley of his body.
neteyam stands to his full height, holding onto your hips as he rises from the ground. you let out a delighted cackle from the sudden movement, throwing your head back as you laugh.
neteyam's eyes dance over your face, unable to hold himself back from chuckling along with you; your laugh is contagious.
"i am so lucky to have you..." his voice trails off, his eyes try to take in every detail of you-- how your braids flow down your back, and the paint that is smeared across your forehead and slightly on your cheekbone...
your hands rest on the sides of his neck, your face brightening from his words. "neteyam... i love you." you whisper into the space between your lips.
the biggest grin spreads across his face from hearing her say those words; the first time you've ever said it to each other. her response only make his heart beat faster, and his breathing more intense. "i love you." he whispers back as he leans forward to give you another soft kiss.
it feels as if he's falling into an abyss surrounded by you, unable to crawl out. it's not like he would want to anyway, his senses are clouded by your lips, and your scent, and how your legs are wrapped tightly around his hips right now. he smiles into the passionate kiss, now knowing that his only purpose in life is to be alongside you.
-
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this is what i used as inspo for the painting on him :p i found it on pinterest
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nqify · 2 years ago
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AHHH I’m so happy I found ur quaritch account! I’ve been dying in lack of quaritch fics so tysm for ur service. I was fed. Also headcannon for quaritch w a shy/ naturally submissive reader? I feel like he be surprised to someone NOT being a brat against him. If u wanna, ty and have a great day?
GIRL U ARE ONTO SMTH AND I LOVE IT!! shy!sub s/o headcanons. — miles quaritch ☆
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pairings. na’vi!miles quaritch. fem!reader
content warnings. daddy kink. lil spit play. lots of dirty talk.
note. idk if this is good or not anon!!! so if you want me to change anything feel free to ask
this guys deals with so many brats on the daily!! his coworkers, his boss, the mf Lyle. He just hates having to put people in line all the time this guys deals with so many brats on the daily!! his coworkers, his boss, the mf Lyle. He just hates having to put people in line all the time
so when he meets you, it’s like a breathe of fresh air. Your naturally submissive, listening to everything he tells you to do, “hey, y/n, could you grab that for me?” And without complaining or whining you nod your head, “yes, sir.” This dude is pussy whipped already
even without all the devils tango, just doing what he says gets him going. He’s so used to ppl not following his orders, when u come along and start submitting to him, this GUY WILL NOW PREY ON U FR
when y’all start dating, he starts to notice how easily you get shy, especially with his words, “hey pretty, how are you?” your cheeks are burning up. This dude will find smth to make you flustered. he’ll give u little neck and forehead kisses to just to see how red you get from his touch. it’s fr driving him mad.
let’s just say your sitting on his lap in public, your horny asf and this guy will not give u attention. You begin to slowly grind your ass on him, he takes notice. As much as he would love take you right then and there, he wanted to test out if you’d rlly listen to him in a situation like this.
Miles pulls you by your waist, your back now hitting his chest. you could feel his hot breathe against your ear, he nibs at it a little before going in and saying, “uh, uh baby, behave”
And your ass listens. You don’t move or fight him in that matter. This guy is shocked. His ears perk up at ur submissiveness. He most def wanna fuck u more now. He’d try to keep his cool and move to ur ear again, “such a good girl for me, guess who’s going to get a reward when they get home” YOU ARE BITCH!!..
girls!! now we getting juicy!! just imagine miles pounding into you, his cock reaching every spot, making you an absolute mess!! This fucker wanna test out the waters again!! “open ur mouth for me, ma” and ofc, as a good girl U DID!! why is this guy so stunned. This most definitely triggers smth in him, you thought he was going hard before?? yeah girl no. He’s now drilling your shit, he’s reaching in deep. Not surprised if he touching your cervix now
he brings his pointer and middle finger to your bottom lip and slightly drags your mouth open a little. and then, BOOM he spits in your mouth. and ofc, you swallow it. THE FACT that he didn’t have to tell you to do that, his dick is twitching and aching for u girl.
since u submit to him so easily, this guy WILL praise you, and I mean it. You’d be taking his dick in your mouth and this fucker will not stop being so vocal towards you, “f-fuck, good girl, such a good girl” or when it’d be your first times together and ur taking his big dick he’d just praise tf outta you, “look at you mama, making daddy so proud and letting him stretch you out, s-shit” creaming as we speak!!!.
bc ur ass is so shy, he will try anything and I mean anything to get you all flustered in the bed room!! this means with his words, his touch, his movements! ANYTHING .
he’ll have u spread out on the bed, hair all messy and ur lips all puffy and pink. Your hands would be covering your face, hiding your embarrassment as you laid there, fully naked. And ofc, miles would be towering over you, this guy is 9’5 for god sake!! Even though he’s seen you naked so many times, He’d still find it so so cute how flustered you are.
He would grab both your hands and pin them above your head,“no need to be so shy baby, lemme see all of you” his tail is wagging like a dog at this point. He secretly likes how u get so shy, the fact that he gets to ruin it MAKES HIM BOOMBOOM baby making time.
bc this guy is a certified dirty talker, he will and I REPEAT!!!, he will say shit to make you embarrassed.
Y’all are literally in public and this fucker becomes behind you, grinds his bugle into your back and says, “can’t wait to fuck this pretty pussy when we get home” u froze. or when he’s annoying you a lil and you just can’t help whining out, “miles, ur so annoying” he be grinning. “that’s not what u said last night baby” get ready for him to mock tf outta you, “weren’t you all like, ah, ah, pls daddy, feels so good!!??” “want more!! ah! so big fuck” ur so fucking embarrassed now omg.
one last thing, eye contact. this fucker loves it - rlly gets the gears going. So when he’s eating your pretty pussy and looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, U GO CRAZY. you try to not look back at him, constantly dragging your gaze to smth else. But oh no, he will not take that
he pulls away from your pussy and grabs your chin, “look at me baby, cmon I know you love it - don’t you like it when daddy fucks you with his tongue?? you don’t want me to make u cum, huh?” your 100% looking at him now. like girl.
requests are still open!! don’t be shy, gimme ur fantasies rn!!!!
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