#bully!kiri

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Me again😗 I wanted to request a bully BakuKirix cubby reader. I’m more than sure it’s been done BUT like I’ve said I love your writing and can’t wait to see what you do with it (if you choice too🤍)

Smile, Sl*t! (Bully!KiriBaku x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Kirishima Eijirou x Black!Fem!Chubby!Reader

Synopsis: When your friend drags you out to a costume party in a slutty angel costume that you reluctantly agree to wear, she doesn’t tell you that it’s a party thrown by the same two frat boys that you can’t stand…who also happen to be your longtime bullies. When they take notice that you’ve decided to attend their party, they’ll definitely make themselves known and give you a Halloween that you’ll never forget…because it’s all on camera.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Bully!Fratboys!KiriBaku; Nerdy!Reader; College AU; Semi Public Sex; Sex on Tape; Mean Dom!KiriBaku x sub!Reader; Noncon/R*pe; Dubcon (later); Oral (Giving & Receiving); Reader Cums 2x; Creampie + Throatpie; Facial; Cum on Ass; Slutty Angel Costume; Chucky!Kiri; Ghostface!Bakugou; Namecalling; Teasing; Big Ol’ Dicks; Spitroasting; Cumming on Camera

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Thank you so much for your patience & for requesting this, @po1sonn! I really hope you enjoy this one! I had so much fun writing it. For those reading, PLEASE read the warnings. Kiri & Bakugou are VERY mean in this one shot. I was shook even writing it lol. Enjoy! -Jazz 🥰

T/W: THIS ONE SHOT CONTAINS NONCON/R*PE & DUBCON. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. I DO NOT PERSONALLY CONDONE ANY OF THE ACTS WRITTEN IN THIS ONE SHOT. IT IS ONLY A WORK OF FICTION & FANTASY.

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“Well, well, well…look at what we have here.”

The tall, buff, sexy redhead deviantly smirks at you, his fake bloody scars, ripped overalls, and striped, blood-soaked “Good Guy” shirt giving him a menacing feel. You never knew a Chucky costume could be so damn terrifying. The long, spiked red locks he sports brings out his crimson eyes that are trained firmly on you and your tight, slutty costume that you instantly regret wearing.

“Would ya look at what we’ve got tonight, Bakugou,” Eijirou Kirishima aka Kiri cackles, a menacing look in his eyes. “An angel has come to bless us! Wonder what good deed we did.”

Bakugou Katsuki turns to look at his longtime boyfriend behind his Ghostface mask. Seeing the ghostly mask makes you shiver in fear, but nothing scares you more than when Bakugou reveals his hardened vermillion eyes and unfortunately handsome face as he takes off the mask. “Hardly good,” he huffs. “I don’t remember puttin’ you on our guest list. What, you sneak in?”

He cocks his head to the side as he sizes you up, staring you down like you’re no more than an ant. Kiri stares you down too, his pierced lip caught between his teeth as his eyes crawl over your body.

You look between the two men, so tall, big, and buff, your nerves frazzled. You never would’ve expected a night of fun for Halloween to turn into one of terror when you’ve found yourself stuck in a locked room with the two most popular athletes and frat boys on campus...

Who also happen to be your high school bullies.

God, how you hate them! They used to poke fun and pester you any chance they got back in high school. They’d pull at your skirt and try to lift it in the hallways. They’d steal your books and write dirty notes in them. They’d laugh at your embarrassment and humiliation when they’d call you in gym class and tell you how tight your uniform was on you.

They seemed so hellbent on making the four years of high school a living hell for you. It got to the point where you’d skip classes they were in or hide in the bathroom at lunch to avoid running into them. You were so happy when you finally graduated. Now you can go to college and be away from them!

However, you were wrong. So, so wrong. You should’ve known they’d apply to the same university to continue their education. You should’ve known they’d form their own fraternity with Denki Kaminari and Sero Hanata, your friend and roommate’s boyfriend. While they were kind to you, Bakugou and Kiri were anything but.

You made it your mission to avoid them at all costs. You thought that you were doing a pretty good job until your friend decided to drag you out of the house for a costume party and decided not to tell you that it was being thrown by her boyfriend’s fraternity. You could choke her!

You stare down nervously at your high-heeled boots, black and sexy. “N-No,” you whisper.

Bakugou slams his hand against the door above your head, nearly knocking off the fake, glittery halo attached. “Huh?” He barks. “I can’t hear you, girl. Speak the fuck up! We’re the only ones here!” You flinch at the aggression, your pulse jumping wildl.

“Chilllax, Bakubro,” Kiri chuckles, pulling the blonde back. “She’s just a little nervous. It ain’t everyday she’s in one room with two guys, I’m sure.” A sly smile appears on his lips, his sharp teeth glinting menacingly. “Or am I wrong?”

You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to be here. Oh, God, why did your friend have to bring you here? Why did you have to venture off to find a bathroom and walk into the wrong room? “No,” you softly repeat.

Kiri’s eyebrows, one of them pierced, raise in interest. “No, I’m wrong?” He cackles, nudging Bakugou in the side. “Damn, sweetheart, you get down like that?”

Your face flames and you quickly shake your head. “N-No, I mean…I didn’t sneak in. My friend brought me here.” You revert back to your high school self, shy, awkward, and nervous. Just wanting to go through each day without any trouble.

Bakugou’s brows narrow. Like Kiri, one of his brows is also pierced. Both frat boys are littered in piercings and tattoos that ink their muscles. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he growls. “What, you didn’t wanna come? You too good for us?”

Your eyes, framed by faux lashes and glittery silver eyeshadow, widen at the assumption. “No!” You immediately reply.

Kiri tuts, crossing his beefy arms over his broad chest. “Ooooh, I think she’s lying,” he sing-songs. “I think she thinks she’s a lot better than us. A lot more…innocent.” He says the word in a lecherous fashion that makes your skin crawl. “Why else would she dress up in this? Damn, can this skirt get any tighter?”

“And shorter,” Bakugou adds. “Bend over just an inch and you’ll be flashin’ the whole party. Little slut. Just like all the bitches in here.”

Referring to the guests at their party, you were met with dozens of slutty cats, devils, schoolgirls, and cheerleaders when you arrived. Your friend came as an angel, similar to you, and made you wear a skimpy white corset top paired with a mini skirt that barely covers your ass, white pantyhose, boots, and fake angel wings that track glitter everywhere.

You knew this costume was a mistake. You never should’ve worn it. You don’t wear “barely there” outfits or even go out of your dorm unless you can help it! Why’d you have to listen to your friend’s “YOLO/you deserve to let loose” speech?!

“I-I’m not a slut,” you whimper, looking away from your bullies. Bakugou’s jaw clenches at your back talk and he leans in, getting in your face. “What’d you say, extra?” He growls, using that insult you always hated. “You wanna argue about it? I hurt your little feelings?”

You press yourself further against the locked door, your heart pounding like the bass of the music downstairs. “I know all about your kind,” he scoffs, a dry smirk on his lips. “You act all innocent and prudish, but in reality, you’re just a sick, nasty little pervert. Who else wears an outfit like this?”

He tugs on your skirt, nearly pulling it down. You squeak, snatching it away from him. “It wasn’t my idea!” You protest, unshod tears stinging your eyes. “M-My friend made me—“

“Uh-uh, don’t blame your friend,” Kiri interrupts. “You’re a big girl. You could’ve said no…but you didn’t want to. You wanted to come here and get the eyes of all the boys.” His vermillion eyes narrow at you. “Didn’t you, you slutty bitch?”

You flinch at the insult, the tears rising. You cannot cry in front of these two. You won’t!

“Speakin’ of that guest list, Bakugou is right: we didn’t put you on the list. Your friend, yeah, ‘cause she’s dating Sero, but not you.” Kiri laughs to himself, his eyes glazing over your body. “I’m shocked you even came out of your boring little dorm and got your nose out of them books.”

Bakugou sniggers, his eyes also grazing over every part of your body—your legs; your stomach peeking out from under your corset; your soft breasts; your thighs. You’re not sure if you like it or not.

You’re not sure if you like being the center of attention of these two hot and powerful yet menacing forces. You’re not sure if you like how they’re making your body feel either—tight nipples, tingly skin, pounding heart, and wet pu—

“I-I’m sorry, okay?” You stammer, putting your hands up in defense. They’re shaking. “My friend dragged me here and Sero let me in, but I can leave.”

Quickly, your hand moves to dig into your sparkly silver bag for your phone. You need to text your friend. Sero. Anyone. “I’ll just go and—“

“Whoa, whoa!” Kiri says. His big hand shoots out to snatch your phone away, holding it out of reach of you. “Hold up, sweetheart. Just where do you think ya goin’?” You try to reach for it, but he holds it up and dangles it, grinning down at your short stack self.

Distracted, Bakugou takes the opportunity to snatch your bag away, holding it hostage . You panic, your breathing coming out in puffs. The door is locked. Your phone is gone. And now your bag is in your bully’s clutches too!

Can you scream? Are you brave enough to do that? Would anyone even hear you?

Bakugou’s narrow, sharp eyes stop you short from trying. “You think you can just walk into OUR house, into OUR party, drink up OUR booze and then leave?” he snarls. “You’re not even a guest…more like a trespasser.”

Kiri slowly nods in agreement, sizing you up like a wolf about to pounce and eat you alive. “And we don’t like trespassers,” he hums. “We teach people like you a lesson.”

Like a deer caught in headlights, your eyes widen. What are they going to do to you? Suddenly, Bakugou grabs your arm and snatches you away from the door. You gasp, nearly tripping over your boots, but you manage to steady yourself. You now stand in the middle of the room with both of your bullies surrounding you, Bakugou’s big body blocking the door.

Now the tears begin to rise. You can’t stop the stupid, fat, salty things from dripping down your cheeks. Bakugou laughs at the sight. “Oh, she’s cryin’!” He guffaws. “Damn, it didn’t take much, did it?”

The two surround you like predators. You’re a gazelle in the Savanna, weak and fragile—just what the big, bad, vicious animals hiding in the jungle want. “Please,” you whimper. “Stop it.”

Kiri coos, gripping your chin to force you to look at him. “Stop what, mama?” He teasingly asks, smirking at you. “We ain’t even do anythin’ yet and you’re shakin’ like a leaf. C’mooon, don’t be like that.”

His hand drops from your face to hold your hand, his grip tight and firm. “Show us that pretty costume, huh? Give us a twirl.” He grins at you, flashing you his sharp, pearly whites.

You turn to Bakugou who stares at you like he’s deciding whether or not to slice and dice you. “Do as he says,” he demands.

Sniffling, you do as they want. Kiri twirls you around slowly, showing you off to himself and Bakugou. He makes a show of flipping up your skirt and smacking your ass, moaning at the sight of your red thong underneath. “Nice undies, baby girl,” he condescendingly comments. “And here, I thought you decided not to wear any panties.”

He continues to show you off, both him and Bakugou laughing at your expense. You silently cry to yourself, feeling humiliated. You’re standing on the auction block now, about to be sold to the highest bidder and—

Click.

You abruptly turn to Bakugou who is holding his phone up, a bright light washing over you from the camera “W-What’s that?” You gasp even though you already know. “No, please! Why are you recording me?”

You race to stop him, but Kiri roughly pulls you back. “O-Ow!” You shout, his fingers digging into your arm.

“Ah-ah, hands off,” he tuts, his crimson eyes narrowed. “That isn’t a very angelic thing to do, baby girl. This is just your apology to us for not followin’ our rules.”

Bakugou tsks, finally stepping away from the locked door still holding his phone. “Nah,” he grunts. “She needs to be serious. I want this slut to really regret her decisions.” He shoots a look at Kiri who returns it with a wide, lecherous smirk.

You think you’re scared now? Girl, you’ve never been more terrified than when the two men begin to strip. You watch them with wide eyes, drinking in their naked bodies. They truly are big.

Big pecs. Big forearms. Big thighs. Big shoulders. Big everything, including those big, fat cocks hanging between their tree-trunk legs. You gape at them, unable to process what you’re seeing. You can’t believe it! Your bullies are naked and hard for you!

Bakugou stares at you with a lustful, dark expression that makes your stomach flip, his camera still on you. “Get on your knees and suck us off,” he demands. “And if you make us nut real good, maybe we’ll let ya go and forget all about this little video…unless you wanna become famous.”

A large smile appears on his lips, indicating that he has very bad intentions. “We can airdrop what we’ve got to our brothers and every single person at this party right now. I’m sure they’d think you look sexy too. The girls would even be jealous that you’re here with us instead of them.”

Fear bubbles inside of you. They wouldn’t…they couldn’t! ”No!” you beg. “No, please don’t! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Your two bullies stare at you expectantly, smirking. “Anything?” Kiri asks. Defeatedly, you nod.

The redhead then wraps a hand around his thick cock with its heavy balls and starts pumping. “Then start by gettin’ these cocks in your pretty mouth. Let’s give that mouth somethin’ else to do.”

Despite everything in you telling you no and the tears refusing to stop falling, you do as he demands.

You’ll find yourself on your knees minutes later pumping, stroking, slurping, and sucking your bullies’ thick cocks for what feels like hours. As they moan and voice how good, wet, and sloppy your mouth is, feeling pleasure, you’ll feel discomfort.

You wince as they grab your hair, knocking off your halo, forcing you back and forth between them. Your jaw aches from the constant stretching as they fuck your throat, filling it up with their length and girth. They use your mouth like it’s a fleshlight, sloppily and roughly fucking it until your throat is raw and your gag reflex nearly kicks in.

“Nicely done, angel,” Kiri chuckles as he watches Bakugou pound your throat. He holds Bakugou’s phone up, recording you getting your throat fucked. “I think she’s done this before, ‘Suki. She’s waaaay too good at suckin’ cock.”

Bakugou grunts in response, his hips pistoning away. You do your best to avoid grazing him with your teeth, not wanting to find out what will happen if you do. “Nice fuckin’ mouth,” he groans, his balls slapping against your chin. “You have done this shit before, haven’t ya, princess?”

“Mmm-mmm!” You protest, mumbling around his cock. Bakugou grips the back of your neck and forces you off of him before slapping you in the face with his cock. “Ya lyin’ little bitch,” he growls. “Don’t play with me. You know you’ve sucked dick before.”

Kiri begins to slap his big cock against the other side of your cheek, both of them coating your lips in pre-cum and spit. “Open wide, angel,” he teasingly coos, the camera in your face. “C’mon, give us somethin’ for the camera. Give these dicks a kiss and a nice suck.”

They continue to slap and tap their cocks against your cheeks and tongue, laughing cruelly at your trembling lips and mascara-stained cheeks. “You look so pretty like this, angel,” Kiri groans as he sinks back into your mouth.

“Such a good little slut, ain’t she?” Bakugou asks, taking his phone back to shove it in your face. “Wonder if she’s wet from all of this.” Kiri smirks at his boyfriend, a glint of interest in his red eyes. “Wanna find out?” He whispers. Bakugou smirks back and you know what you’re in for.

Minutes later, you’re spread out on the floor with your thighs forced apart, Kiri and Bakugou’s hands gripping either one to make sure you don’t close them. Kiri is between your legs first, slurping greedily at your pussy and nibbling at your thighs with his teeth. “Mmm, you taste so sweet, angel,” he mumbles into your cunt. “You’re givin’ me so much.”

You whine in response, trying not to writhe under Bakugou’s grip on your soft, fleshy thigh. “That’s ‘cause she’s a little slut,” he growls. “Just look at that expression. She’s so fuckin’ cumdrunk.” He looks down at you, his phone recording all over your lewd expressions. “Does it feel good gettin’ eaten out by your bullies?” he asks. “Tell the audience, princess.”

You open your eyes, looking into the camera lens. Bakugou shut off the flash so it’s easier on your sight and he can get the perfect shot of your pretty face. “Y-Yes,” you whimper just as Kiri sucks on your clit. You moan louder, unable to stop yourself. “Fuck, Kiri, please!”

Kiri laughs as he sucks on your clit with his soft lips, pulling away to give you a grin. “You beg so pretty for us, angel. Almost makes me feel sorry for pickin’ on ya.” His tongue gives you a long lick from your clit down to your asscrack and back up again to slurp on your clit. “Almost,” he adds, making Bakugou laugh.

While Kiri is still gentle with his pussy-eating, he is also merciless. Playful. Teasing. He knows just what spots to tease and stimulate until your body is writhing and twisting in pleasure, your core too tight and too warm. You feel like you’re about to burst, a sensation similar to needing to pee overtaking you. “W-Wait, Kiri!” you plea. “You’re goin’ too fast! I-I don’t wanna—“

Bakugou grips your throat, squeezing the words out of you. “You’d better not cum,” he demands. “I haven’t even gotten my tongue in there yet. Shitty hair, ease up and switch with me. She won’t be doin’ shit when I’m tongue fuckin’ her.”

Kiri pouts, but stops anyway and lets his boyfriend take his spot. Bakugou delivers on his promise as he sits between your thighs. He has them hiked up over his broad shoulders, his fingers digging into your ass as he greedily slurps at your gushing pussy. He doesn’t allow Kiri to touch any part of your cunt, rubbing your clit with his nose himself while he tongue fucks you.

“Katsuki,” you moan. “F-Fuck, please! Slow down!” Bakugou smacks your ass in response. “Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles. “Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do.” The blonde continues to greedily and evilly eat your pussy, his tongue moving quick and his lips so soft that they feel like silk against your clit.

Kiri cackles above you, one hand on one of your juicy tits while the other is holding Bakugou’s phone to record you. “Don’t talk back to him, mama,” he sniggers. “Bakugou gets reeeeal mad when someone talks back to him. He’ll edge you for hours if you’re not a good girl.”

He stops groping your tit at the same time Bakugou pauses in his pussy-eating, staring at the redhead. They both share the same devious expression before looking down at you with lust and evil in their gazes. They’re like horror movie villains to you now. Demons. They are who to be afraid of.

You know exactly what comes next, but no mental preparation does much to prepare you for your bullies putting you through the wringer…and all on camera. But not before they make you cum with their tongues. They do it back to back, taking turns playing with your pussy and clit with their tongues until you have no choice but to gush all over them.

“That’s a good slut,” Bakugou moans into your cunt. “Fuckin’ cum for us. Cum for the camera, ya little whore.” He continues to eat you out as you moan and sob, tears once again pricking your eyes. The orgasm is explosive, drawing every ounce of energy out of you.

Kiri pulls away from sucking your clit to shine the light from the phone in your face and on your cum-slick pussy, moaning in appreciation at the sight. “So pretty,” he cackles. “Betcha needed that, didn’t you, angel?”

You only whimper in response, unable to speak. You feel so humiliated. But your humiliation only increases when your bullies scoop you up and finally use you as they intended while the embarrassing sex tape continues to record on Bakugou’s iPhone.

Bakugou props his phone up against the wall so he doesn’t have to hold it while he fucks you from behind. His cock is bigger than you thought just by looking at it and sucking on it. When it’s inside you, the pleasure mingles with the stretching sensation you feel as he pushes himself deep, deep, deep inside of you.

So deep that you feel his balls slap against your clit every time he pistons his hips against your ass. “Fuck!” you cry out, unable to hold back. You struggle to hold yourself up on your arms. Your body grows the weaker the rougher Bakugou fucks you, grunts of pleasure escaping through gritted teeth.

He uses you as he would use a toy, slamming into you with abandon. His rough thrusts cause embarrassingly wet noises to drift through the sex-scented air and your entire body to jiggle with the force of them—your ass, your tits, your thighs, your stomach.

Kiri grips all of you with his greedy hands, his cock surging at the sight of you getting fucked. He kneels down in front of you, making sure he is in the camera frame too. “C’mon, angel, you can take him,” he coos. “You can take both of us.”

He wraps a hand around his fat cock and you stare at it, wide-eyed. His dick piercing glints at you the same way his teeth do, almost mocking you. “Open up for me while Bakugou fucks that slutty pussy.”

You have no choice. You do as he demands and nearly choke as he shoves himself deep in your throat. Together, he and Bakugou begin to fuck you at each end in both of your holes, their moans and grunts filling the dark bedroom and all on camera footage.

He spreads your asscheeks apart as he pummels into your wet heat, forcing you into a deeper arch. “Yeah, that’s right,” he growls, smacking your ass. You wince at the sting. “Take that fuckin’ dick, princess. You needed this so badly—just some cock for a nerdy little slut.”

“Oh, you know she did,” Kiri chuckles, hissing in pleasure at the way your throat clenches and flexes around his shaft. “She was just hopin’ and prayin’ we’d see her in that sexy little costume and wreck her.”

“She ain’t been wrecked yet.” Bakugou suddenly pulls out of you, making you whine at the sudden feeling of being full and then not. He gives your ass a hard smack, the video definitely catching the sound. “Take shitty hair’s dick now,” he orders. “I wanna see your eyes this time. I’m gonna fuck your throat till I cum and you’re gonna take all of it.”

This isn’t a suggestion. This isn’t your decision. He is telling you exactly what you’ll be doing. Kiri laughs, delighted. “Handin’ me over her pussy? You must be feelin’ generous, babe.” He playfully kisses Bakugou on the cheek before the two switch, their attention back on you.

They both slap their cocks against your holes, laughing at your agonized expression. “Please,” you whimper, the only word in your blank mind. Blank from the constant fucking. Blank from the orgasm. Blank from the situation.

“Please what, slut?” Bakugou asks, tilting your chin up. “You want us to go again? You need us to fill you up?”

You don’t know how to answer him. You want them to stop, but you also want them to keep going. You need to cum like you need to breathe air. Like you need to eat. Like you need to blink.

Unfortunately for you, your hot, sexy, and extremely malicious bullies take your pathetic whimpering for a yes and slide in at the same time. Their moans of unison as they sink into your wet pussy and hot mouth are worthy of the best porn ever made.

“Fuck, angel!” Kiri moans, wasting no time pounding your pussy like there is no tomorrow. “You’re probably the best fuck I’ve ever had…no offense, ‘Suki.”

He grins toothily at the platinum blonde who is too busy watching the way you take his cock in your mouth to look up. “You say that now till I’ve got my dick in your ass,” he growls. “Now shut up and keep fuckin’ this slut. We need some good shit for the camera.”

Kiri’s grin widens as he grips your fleshy hips and smacks your ass in between his thrusts. “Riiiight,” he draws out. “A nice scene for our movie. You’re the star of the show, angel.”

He leans over you, sinking his cock in deeper and drawing a muffed moan out of you. “This is your big break, baby girl,” he whispers, nibbling at your ear. “Now take these fuckin’ dicks like you’re about to win an award.”

The two begin to fuck you in unison—rough, hard, and fast. They use your body and holes like you’re nothing but a sex doll to them. A toy to be used for their pleasure alone. Kiri grips your skirt as he fucks you, nearly ripping it apart, and Bakugou yanks on your hair, knocking the fake halo off of your head.

You feel a mess. You are a mess. Your costume is destroyed, your makeup is ruined, and you know that you’ll feel every inch of this in the morning. You would’ve preferred they steal your books or pull at your clothes in the hallway than this.

Because you can’t live this down. You can’t push this memory to the very far back of your mind. You can’t escape it through self growth, partying, or studying. Because it’s all on camera.

Your eyes shift to Bakugou’s phone screen where, sure enough, you see yourself. All of your soft, chubby body is being groped and gripped by big, rough hands calloused by endless training and sports. Two thick cocks piston in and out of your dripping pussy and mouth dripping in saliva. All for the camera.

If anyone else saw this, they’d see nothing but a slut.

A slut who is soon about to meet her end. You can feel the cocks inside of you swelling, signaling that your two bullies are about to peak. “Fuck, angel, I’m about to cum!” Kiri warns, gripping your ass and stroking your stretch marks. “You gonna cum too, aren’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm!” You hum around Bakugou’s thick cock. You don’t know if you’re saying yes or no. But your body betrays you regardless, your pussy squeezing around Kiri’s cock that continues to bully your insides.

“Not yet,” Bakugou growls, pulling his cock out of your mouth. He grips your chin and forces you to face his phone. You look back at you, mascara running and lip gloss and spit all over your mouth. “Look at the fuckin’ camera,” he snarls. “Say you like bein’ our slut. Say you like bein’ fucked on camera.”

Pants and moans leave your lips as Kiri continued to fuck you, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Smack! Bakugou leans forward to smack your ass, leaving it stinging. “Say it!” he hisses. “Say it if you wanna fuckin’ cum or I swear to God you won’t.”

“I…I…” Tears spring into your eyes as the embarrassing, betraying words leave your lips. “I love it!” You shout. “I love being your slut! I love getting fucked on camera by you! I want your cum!”

“Yeah?” Kiri teasingly asks. “You want our cum? You gonna take these loads in both of your holes like a good little girl, angel?”

“Yes!” you wail, getting closer and closer. “Yes, I promise! Please give me all of your cum!” Your two bullies grin devilishly, happy and satisfied with your pathetic answer. The two begin to fuck you like their lives depend on it, chasing their highs with rough thrusts and rutting that pushes you to your end.

When you cum, you cum HARD. It takes you a moment to make any noise as it takes over your body, making you shiver, shake, and tense up as each wave of pleasure overwhelms you. Your pussy tightens around Kiri’s cock and strokes it with your walls as you cum all over him, dripping down his heavy balls and your thick thighs.

“Oh, fuck!” He groans, still pummeling into your heat along with Bakugou. “Gonna cum! Gonna fuckin’ cum!” Finally, with a loud moan that rings in your eardrums and bounces off of the walls, he shoots a warm, creamy load deep inside of your pussy.

Bakugou follows, cumming deep down your throat with a guttural groan as if he’s an animal. He tilts his head back as his thrusts become sloppy and slower, still pumping rope after rope of cum along your tongue. You weakly moan as you’re filled to the brim with their spunk, feeling wet from both ends.

“Not yet,” Bakugou growls. “We ain’t done with you yet.”

He and Kiri pull their cocks out of you and begin pumping them on your face and your ass. You gasp as you feel Bakugou’s warm droplets of cum splash onto your face while Kiri enjaculates on your asscheeks, spreading his cum around the soft globes.

Once they finish, the two pant and sigh in satisfaction and exhaustion. Their toned bodies glint in sweat and their cocks are still semi-hard, but you’re sure they won’t want another round…or you hope not.

“Whew!” Kiri whistles, placing his hands on his hips. “That was…so, so fuckin’ good.” Bakugou wipes sweat from his forehead, breathing heavily. “I haven’t cum that hard in forever,” he chuckles. “Consider yourself lucky, princess.”

You lie on the floor between them, semi-naked and coated in cum. You are wrecked. Totally and completely. Kiri cackles, patting you on your ass. “Guess this she couldn’t handle it,” he jokes. “We ruined her.”

“Good,” Bakugou growls. “That’ll teach her not to go snoopin’ around our house without permission.”

“Oh, hold up!” Kiri suddenly walks over to pick up Bakugou’s phone and comes back, kneeling down in front of you. Bakugou forces you up and onto your knees, and like a rag doll, you allow it.

“Look up for me, angel,” Kiri coos. Despite the cum dripping off of your face, you do so and stare up into your bullies’ grinning faces and the white light of Bakugou’s phone.

“Smile, slut!” they both shout in unison. They broke your mind just enough where you do, flashing a wobbly smile at the camera.

THE END.

[sugawara--san]

class A standing behind bakugou in the rain: wait he's apologizing for WHAT

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Keep scrolling if you blame Spider

Spider, who is literally still a child by human standards.

Spider, who never gave away Jake's or the Omatikaya's location.

Spider, who cares about the Sullys' safety over his own.

Spider, who didn't want any blood on his hands or a guilty conscience if he left someone to die.

Spider, who just didn't want anyone else to get hurt.

Spider, who never betrayed the Na'vi (unlike Jake but hey, who's counting that, right?)

Spider, who had to fend for himself to survive the toughest events because he didn't have an adult who would tear the world apart for him like the Sully children do.

Spider, who loves Pandora and Eywa.

Spider, who just wanted to be one of Her children because he never knew what it was like for a mother to love him.

Spider, who probably understands Eywa's whole "balance of life" meaning more than others.

Spider, who already lost Neteyam but he couldn't afford to lose anyone else in his life, no matter how terrible they are as a person.

Spider, who helped Jake save Kiri and Tuk when everyone else was still too shocked to move.

Spider, who chose mercy over violence/death.

Spider, who did what he could to survive (I'd like to see how YOU would react under such pressure. It all seems obvious and easy watching from the other side of the screen, right?)

Spider, who was likely being misled, brainwashed, and gaslit by the Recoms.

Spider, who is clearly a victim but hey, let's blame him for simply being a decent human being, right?

Spider, who likely thought he owed Quaritch after he saved him from being tortured.

Spider, who likely thought he owed Quaritch for giving him life.

Spider, who just wanted a father who was proud of him.

Spider, who has been clearly neglected by the heroes (Jake and Neytiri) but doesn't openly or verbally blame them.

Spider, who doesn't purposely threaten children's lives like Quaritch and Neytiri do.

Spider, who just wanted to be one of the People.

Spider, who wouldn't have made those difficult choices had he been properly loved and raised.

Spider, who is as easy to blame as Lo'ak for endangering the people they love (but again, no one's counting, right?)

Spider, who is clearly not a villain, just misunderstood.

Spider, who wasn't raised by the village but didn't burn it down to feel its warmth because he's not petty, not vindictive, not evil, and not a killer.

Spider, who is. A. Child.

[lesbiankirisully]

Kiri: I would DRINK ACID if norm was my dad

spider & Lo’ak: lmao I know right ew

Norm somewhere down the hall: Jesus Christ 🥺😭

[crystalskies42]

Human au headcanons pt. 4

LMAOO THESE JUST SPAWN IN MY HEAD I LOVE THEM

~Grill day

Jake and Tonowari: *At the grill*

Neytiri and Ronal: *Sunbathing cause the girlies are t i r e d*

The kids: *doing illegal things, but it's fine since it's the day for freedom.*

Lo'ak: Wait, guys have you seen my hamster?

Ao'nung: What hamster-

Neteyam: DAD THE GRILL IS ON FIRE

Jake: Don't worry my child it's c r i s p y

Neytiri: Ma'Jake, that is a fire hazard.

Jake: DO NOT QUESTION MY--oops

*Insert a plume of flames*

Tonowari: *extinguishes the fire cause he's preppy like that*

Ao'nung: *Leans towards Lo'ak* See, this is why my dad is better than yours

Tuk: *Banshee screeches*

[autisminfiction]

Just watched Avatar: The Way of Water. I for one think it’s much better than the first film because it explores much deeper themes. Among these themes is how different cultures interpret neurodivergence differently. One of the lead characters, Kiri, is canonically neurodivergent - she is diagnosed with a form of epilepsy after having a seizure underwater. Importantly, humans attribute her spiritual experiences to frontal lobe seizures. The fact the movie embeds us in the Na’vi culture causes the audience to take their spiritual interpretation as granted for truth, but there is some ambiguity to it, and many real world cultures regard neurodivergent individuals as sacred. It’s the same phenomenon here, but our perspective is being inverted from what we are used to. This is also the reason I’ve always had some degree of dislike towards the term neurodivergence - it’s a reflection of our cultural bias to reduce personality and other cognitive differences to neurology. By inverting our biases, the film exposes us to them, though people may still overlook them anyway, just in the opposite direction.

Beyond her explicit neurodivergence, Kiri has other elements to her character which are neurodivergent-coded. I hesitate to say autistic-coded specifically at this point, but I have seen other people make the claim. One particular moment that stood out is when Kiri is bullied for her neurodivergent behavior. She also belongs to a different culture and subspecies from her bullies, but her neurodivergence was the impetus for their harassment, and the reason she was targeted over her siblings. This is a common experience for neurodivergent children, especially autistic children. While she struggles socially, she exhibits autistic hyper-empathy where she is closely connected to animals and aspects of nature. She also appears to visually stim frequently as she observes her environment, which is reflected in the movies visuals, and has a close attention to detail. These features lend to the impression that she neurodivergent, and possibly autistic - should also point out that epilepsy is a common comorbidity of autism as well.

The last thing I’m going to note about her character is that due to the circumstances of her birth some people believe her to be a Christ figure. The plausibility of this is increased by how circumstances of her mother’s death could both provide a pseudo-scientific explanation for how her mother could have underwent parthenogenesis and a spiritual explanation for how she could be the child of the god of their culture. This is fine and all, but I hope that if this is the direction the show ends up taking that they don’t skew so hard in that direction that her nuances as a relatable neurodivergent character are lost. It’s clear that there are going to do with more her character in the future, and I hope she remains the most interesting character in the franchise so far rather than a plot device as we see more of her.

[k-roi]

“Why don’t you ship Aonung and Neteyam?”

RESPECTFULLY, I dont ship a*nunete simply because someone getting with their bully is a popular dynamic (think drarry), which makes sense for Lo’ak and Aonung, or Kiri and Aonung, but for the older brother of the one being bullied, as protective as Neteyam? Have you seen Neteyam interacting with Kiri and Lo’ak, not to mention Tuk?

Realistically, it’s impossible to convince someone in real life that Neteyam would ever get a crush on Aonung because of this flaw. He might be friends with him as a sense of duty or respect for his abilities, yes, but it would be a character flaw for him to fall in love with his precious sibling’s bullies. Neteyam looked so angry when he found out what Aonung did to Lo’ak, he was probably beside himself with worry if he would survive, knowing his younger brother is kind of a klutz and a little bit dumb about when to retreat.

The scene where Neteyam drags Aonung by his queue is actually a great threat against na’vi, because it’s one of the most important places of their bodies/can cause brain damage/if damaged won’t be able to connect to animals or eywa again. It wasn’t a cute walk-you-like-a-dog moment, it was a threat against his life for the threat against his little brother’s life. He would also be disgusted/annoyed that Aonung only respects him because he has normal na’vi four fingers anatomy. Neteyam highly respects his dad, taking pride in him being so important, ex. Toruk Makto, and loves his siblings whole-heartedly with the same features as his father. He’s no traitor.

also something to note

[windup-dragoon]

sorry I have another unused picture of Estinien and Kiri

[akihatohnoofficial]

Forcefems you but gently because you hate it more that way

FUCKED UP…

[jessiegerl]

Also this 100%! I love so many of these!

Y’all don’t make use of funny character traits enough.

Guys!!!!

Bakugou is the nosiest kid I have ever seen. Put it in your fics. Make use of him constantly coming to incorrect conclusions.

Midoriya is actually a really violent kid, he just has the patience of a patron saint. The entire world is lucky he’s too sweet to act on his anger. (Go look in his notebook)

Iida is so shady. “One is my friend and the other one is Bakugou.” COME ONNNNN

Kaminari is such a girly pop y’all. Y’all don’t give him enough silly gen z slang. Please go listen to how he speaks in dub. Sounds like he has 6 sisters.

Uraraka is so unreasonably chill. Almost nothing bothers that girl. Please make her more vulnerable to things because she just can’t be assed to care.

Kirishima is a shit talker, and regularly puts people in their place. Y’all keep writing like him like he’s some little puppy. This man is a Doberman.

[gamblersdoll]

brat taming kirishima with his bratty tsundere girlfriend.

idk thinking that kiri can be such a soft but hard as fuck dom and it always come to a head when you get snarky, like he knows how you are, almost as bad as bakugou.

but god, does he love when you subconsciously act out.

in this sense, you had completely forgot the rule about not allowing kiri to help you with the heavier things. he hates when you get too independent. sure, he knows you carry yourself so, so good. but hes trying to make you not be so defensive, so independent where you cannot be helped because you wont let the thickest walls down.

and on top of that, you shooed him away. biggest mistake for you.

“you know youre not supposed to be carrying these heavy things, right baby?” he tries to take the big box of a black grill out of your hands, but you pull away and swat your hand.

“i can do this shit by myself, kiri.” you grumble, sitting it in the garage with a standing kirishima.

none of that mattered now, not the way he has you folded up on your back to mattress and spread eagle.

the sheer force of his body always knocked you into oblivion, thrusts making your voice so high and ragged.

“i’m sorry, im so sorr—y!” you squeal, moans just bubbling out and a thumb circling your clit.

“oh, i know.” he coos, thrusts becoming meaner by the second. oh, he was pissed. pissed because, the fuck you thought this was? let him lift heavy things for you! youre not single anymore.. and your exes were some punk ass bitches. “bet you wont do this shit again, huh baby?”

you nod, tears starting to bubble up in the corner of your eyes and trying to keep the hold of the back or your knees.

he slows, keeping that motion on your clit and thrusting once really hard. “words, baby.” he growls, pointed teeth gritting.

“yes! yes!” you hiccup, feeling his hips go back to bullying your cervix.

“such a fuckin’ brat you know?” he groans, soft slaps against your cheek. “need’a real man to fuck into you like this, huh?” he coos again, rolling his eyes at a certain tightness. “always gotta be so mean to me.”

you nod, babbling incoherent words and sentences as he circled your over sensitive clit and push his cock deeper. “igunnacum!”

“there you go, just let go and cum, ‘kay baby?”

you hate how gooey he makes you feel. how patience is his strongest suit and making you feel so pathetic in his hands. he was right, needed a big bruly man to fuck you so deep you forget to rebuild that wall you made to protect yourself.

“you going to be mean like that again?” he asked, thrusting in his needy tip that pushes and traps you into the corner of the bed that is against the wall. “hm? cmon, say something, love.”

one thing about kirishima, you know hes pissed when hes drilling you like this, and he’s mocking and laughing at you.

his hands grips your hips hard, all two eighty five hundred pounds of him loving you. “fuck— fuck! yeah, cum!” demanded, and starved. finally, he hits that gummy spot hard enough, and your clit throbs and feels like it clenches on its own, creamy translucent fluid just dribbling from your walls and he laughs out.

“oh, thats my girl.” he shushes, wiping the tears and kissing your cheek. he groans, pulling himself out from your confinements and stroking himself, looking down as he growls from his chest meanwhile his own essence drools to the couch.

you just lay there, a twitching mess as he presses your legs up. he takes the discarded shirt of his to wipe up your cream and then his own. “you okay baby? did i go to hard, again?” he thickly swallows, feeling the pat of your hand against his large bicep.

[literarydumpinggrounds]

Minors DNI 🔞 This is some depraved, freaky deaky shit.. Literally just porn without plot, because I love me some mean Kiri — anyways, come get ya juice!

You were practically panting out your moans, breath fogging up part of your reflection as his hands pawed at your chest. The fabric of your shirt bunched around your collarbone, and the cups of your bra haphazardly folded down to reveal your breasts while he fucked himself into you from behind. His pace merciless, fat cock bullying its way in, and it felt all too delicious with the feeling of his crimson gaze watching you bounce in the mirror.

Your hips are digging into the ceramic edge of the sink, making you push your ass back into him just to escape the sharp sensation of it. The sound of his skin against yours, and the indecent squelch of your weeping hole was setting your skin alight. Maybe thats why you couldn’t stop the sounds from escaping you, eyes lulling back at the way he knew all the spots to make you feel so fucking good.

The feeling of his big, manly hand on your throat brings you back to reality. Your upper half pulled back into him, pressing the entirety of your back flush against his chest while he rails you. Pins you in place with sheer strength. The new depth makes you yelp, letting out mumbled ramblings about his cock being too big.

“You can take it.” he’s nodding at you in the reflection, eyebrows drooping in faux pity as he flashes you that shark tooth grin. “You can fucking take it for me, angel.”

Tongue starting to loosen with your approaching bliss, you can’t stop yourself from nodding along. Delirious on that dick. That familiar coil was winding in your belly, burning hotter by the second until you were cumming around him hard enough to make him stall his hips with a drawn out groan of approval.

It was too good, too much.

The tears rise up, a glistening threat at your lash line as he starts a pace of hard, deliberate thrusts. “Eijiii~.. fuck!” a feral noise tears out of your throat, starlight twinkling and fizzing at the edges of your vision. “s’too much!”

The redhead dips his head back, and laughs at that - so full of jovial warmth and venom. “Awww..” he tuts, a mocking sound, tongue pressed to his teeth as one hand slides from your throat to hold your jaw, the other landing a sharp smack to your ass. “No tears, baby.. nuh uh~..”

“You don’t want our friends to know what a nasty fucking girl you are, do you? Huh, pretty baby?”

He was getting close, balls heavy and aching to do the only thing on his mind. To fill you up, and send you back to the table of your friends as it leaks out of your tired little hole.

“Gonna have to make up some excuse for why that makeup is all over your face..” he moaned, smiling mirthfully as your sloppy cunt grips down at his words, earning you another swat to the ass. Fucking into you with the primal dedication that nature intended, he’s wrapping a thick arm around your neck to hold you in a loose chokehold. Depraved, and unrelenting as he crushed you against the sink with his weight. “You’re such a bad girl, baby. I can feel that pussy milking me, fuck..”

You thanked your lucky stars that the music from the party was hiding your moans, incoherently raving about how good he was fucking you, because you were far too gone to control yourself.

Scattering wet kisses along the side of your face, sloppy and hot with the feeling of his breath, he flexes that strong bicep slightly to give your neck just enough pressure. Just enough that you have to gasp a bit for each breath, soft lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“You love the idea of everyone knowing who owns you, don’t you, honey? Whose pussy is this?”

His thoughts run rampant at his own words, chasing that high as he uses his weight to keep you from wriggling free. Pressing himself all the way into you, grinding against your cervix with slow, decisive thrusts as he lets out a whining growl. You can barely think as he runs the rough pads of his fingers along your thigh with his free hand, enunciating his question by circling your clit until you’re both coming undone.

“It’s yours. Always yours.”

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Never a Burden

Neteyam x Reader Mate

Summary: You don’t want to bother Neteyam with your issues but things keep getting worse with another clan member won’t leave you alone…

Warning: Mentions of injury, cursing.

***************************************************

“Don’t cause trouble” was a line Neteyam constantly said to his younger brother over the years, and now that mantle of troublemaker had been passed over to you, his mate.

Neteyam loved you more than life but by god you were a handful and then some. You were like a magnet for sticky situations and more often than not Neteyam had to come to your rescue.

Like the time some visiting Navi from a neighboring clan were bullying a harmless forest creature so you “intervened”. He yelled at you for being careless and putting yourself in danger.

Or the time your necklace flew off during a flying session so you promptly dived and searched the waters for hours until you found it. You came back soaked and shivering late into the night with the beads in your hand.

“What were you thinking!?” He scolded quickly wrapping you up in a warm blanket.

“B-b-but it’s the necklace you gifted me…” you chattered and he let out an exasperated sigh.

These situations were a frequent occurrence since he met you however he realized soon on that that was a package deal with being your mate. He’d take that deal any day.

Your husband had been endlessly busy on raids the past few months, only coming home to regroup and head back out. He was beyond exhausted most of the time, coming into your tent and falling asleep in your arms almost instantly

Usually Neteyam had patience and a level head but these past months proved to be a heavy challenge. Which made sense since so much was riding on his shoulders.

You felt bad for him which Is why you didn’t want to bother him with your troubles. Even if this situation wasn’t exactly your fault…

Recently a nearby clan had teamed up with yours to battle the sky people. This clan was different than yours, hard headed, brutal, our clans didn’t usually get along but they had a common enemy which made them a strong ally.

However some of the clans males had been targeting you. It started off small at first, taunts here and there. You weren’t a warrior which is why they criticized you as the oleyektens mate. But lately they’ve been getting more bold, one male in particular, Tu’Mey, their ring leader had been degrading you, commenting on your body and how neteyam must hate rutting with such a skinny female.

Today was when he finally crossed the line, you were gathering herbs in the forest with Kiri when she left early because of a headache.

You didn’t think anything of being alone until a familiar voice had you cursing.

“What are you doing out here all alone huh?” Tu’Mey emerged from behind a tree with a grin. He was alone which you didn’t know was better or worse.

“None of your business.” You snatched your basket up and threw him a glare as you went to move past him back to camp, you let out a little gasp when he grabbed your arm instead. That was the first time he had touched you.

“Let go of me!” You hissed and pulled but he didn’t relent.

“Heh so weak, what does a great warrior like your husband see in you huh?”

His grip was strong and you felt a moment of panic.

“Enough, let go asshole!” You punched at him with your other hand but it was like hitting a boulder. He easily grabbed your other hand and pulled you closer. Your eyes widened as he brought his face closer to yours.

“Hmm you may be no warrior, but you do have a pleasant enough face I suppose.”

“Let go before I-“

“Before you what? Hurt me?” He laughed and pulled your arms up high pulling you up right to his body.

You panicked a lot more now feeling his skin touching yours.

You start kicking at him and he clicks his tongue in annoyance, and backs you up into a tree roughly. The bark digging into your skin painfully.

“Oh I’m sorry did that hurt?” He asked mockingly.

“Go on cry for me little forest girl”

You refused to shed tears but you were definitely afraid.

Suddenly you heard a rustling up ahead followed by several Navi voices.

Tu’Mey pulled you deeper in the forest away from prying eyes, his mistake was leaving one hand open.

As he pulled you away you caught a glint of a knife at his waist, it was probably a bad idea but you didn’t really have a choice.

In moments you grabbed at the knife and swiped at the arm holding you.

You were successful but the moment Tu’Mey realized what you done his eyes were full of fury.

You turned to run but were abruptly yanked back by your braid.

“Oh now you wanna fight little girl? Cmon then let’s fight.” He used your hair to propel you forward roughly. You rolled several times before hitting a tree. You gasped in pain.

Suddenly he was above you again and you saw his leg go out and in straight to your stomach. You cried out in pain. Great mother help me.

He kicked the same place again and then roughly pulled you up by your arms.

You slumped in his hold but still managed a hiss. Not that it really did anything.

He opened his mouth to say something but the voices were nearing again. He cursed and threw you back down.

“This isn’t over”. And just as fast as he came he disappeared in the trees.

You coughed a couple times on the ground clutching your stomach. With much pain you stood up and limped into the trees away from the scene, you didn’t want anyone to see you and say anything to Neteyam.

The truth was most Navi could hold their own but you were different. You healed, not hurt, you didn’t even like to hunt because of your sweet nature. Neteyam was drawn to your heart he said, but your weakness was becoming an issue now that war had come. You didn’t realize just how useless you really were.

After much struggle you managed to sneak back into your tent unsuspected.

You collapsed on the ground next to your sleeping mat. The tears flowed freely now that you were alone. You missed Neteyam now more than ever, wanting nothing more than for him to hold you in his arms.

With tears still running down your face you moved your netted top out of the way to see the damage. A large nasty bruise had formed along with a couple cuts. Your back ached too so you could only imagine the scratches there as well.

Sniffling you applied some salve.

Good thing Neteyam wouldn’t be back for a few days, you didn’t know what you would do if he saw your state. He would probably kill him and start another war.

Little did you know the war party had returned while you were gone..

“Yawne? There you are, I didn’t see you when I landed.”

Your eyes widened hearing Neteyams voice and the familiar flapping of the tent beads.

Quickly you wiped at your eyes and slid the salve under the blanket.

“N-Neteyam, welcome back my love.” You thank Ewya that the tent is darkened by the night.

He rushes to you and you embrace him.

“I missed you so much, couldn’t wait to get back..” he held you tightly and you did your best not to wince.

“Me too..” you released from each other and he gave you a loving kiss.

“Come, change and I’ll prepare you something to eat.” He nodded and went to remove his armor. Luckily he hadn’t seemed to notice anything was off.

He ate and talked about the successful raid, you nodded along but your mind was on the blossoming pain all over your body but especially your stomach.

“Are you alright? You’ve hardly said a word..”

“Yes, just tired is all, I was collecting herbs and other things for most of the day.”

He nodded and smiled, “then come let us sleep, I am exhausted as well.”

You nodded and followed him to the mat. You grabbed a longer top and threw it on. Come morning, you would not be able to hide it in the light so you needed to cover up, at least until he left again for the next raid.

Sleep came easy for the both of you, despite your pain, being in Neteyams arms always lulled you quickly. You hoped the morning would go smoothly. Although you rarely ever got what you wanted these days..

***************************************************

“-at is this?” Mm your dreams were beginning to fade away at the familiar voice calling out to you and bringing you back to reality.

“Y/n!” Your eyes abruptly flicked open hearing Neteyams urgent voice.

Oh great mother help me..

Your gaze focused on Neteyam who was sitting up beside you with a hand on your waist and another pulling aside your netted top.

You were an idiot to think that flimsy material could hide anything.

“What is this, what happened??” He asked again voice full of concern and seriousness.

Your eyes followed down to wear a nasty bruise had doubled In its darkening since last night.

“I-I It’s nothing teyam, I fell from a tree in a bad way is all.. I didn’t realize it had caused such a bruise..” you sat up and tried to cover up again but he wouldn’t let you.

“This looks bad, what did you fall on?” He grimaced tracing the cuts with his fingers.

“Some large rocks..” you hoped he would buy that. You never really lied to him before, you hated the feeling..

He looked you over now from head to toe and caught sight of your back.

“Your back is scratched up too… come let’s see Grandmother-“

He moves to gently pull you but you refuse, “It’s fine my love, I can apply medicine here, your grandmother is no doubt busy with warriors from yesterday…”

He looked reluctant, “but..”

“Really I’m alright” you pulled him back down and hugged him. You were actually in a lot of pain but Moat was smart and would see through your lie easily so you couldn’t go.

Neteyam pulled away and moved to grab your basket that held all your medicinal supplies.

He pulled the cover off and frowned, “I thought you picked herbs yesterday, there’s barely anything here..”

You idiot- you left your basket in the forest!

“Ah I can’t believe it, I forgot my basket in the forest..”

He raised a brow then furrrowed it, “you didn’t hit your head did you?” Suddenly he was near you again inspecting your face.

“N-no I didn’t I must’ve been just a little flustered is all”

Neteyam pulled back and looked you in the eye, “Yawne…is everything ok? You seem…strange”

“I-I” what should you say?

Luckily a familiar voice outside the tent called interrupting you.

“Bro you in there? We need to talk about the next mission, everyone’s waiting” Neteyam reluctantly pulled away giving you a wary look. You smiled hoping to ease his worries.

“I’ll be back later , go to Kiri for help at least ok?”

You nodded not meaning it and watched him leave the tent.

You let out a sigh once you were alone. Perhaps you could sneak into your mother in laws tent since everyone would be at the meeting. She would have herbs. At least that way Neteyam would assume you went to Kiri.

Slowly you stood up and readjusted your clothing, not that it really covered anything..

Luckily when you exited the tent, everyone was either at the meeting or busy preparing for the next raid.

You went behind the tents as swiftly as you could and finally arrived at your destination.

You called out but just as you suspected they were gone.

You felt guilty basically stealing but you didn’t really have many options.

You gathered what you needed and left, you nearly let out a scream when you bumped into the large body of your father in law.

“Woah easy- y/n?” You quickly schooled your shock with an uneasy smile. “I came to ask to borrow some herbs but no one was here.. I hope you don’t mind?”

Jake shook his head, “of course not, go crazy” he reached beside the door grabbing a map before moving to leave again when he happened to catch sight of the bruise.

“What happened?” He asked concerned.

“O-oh nothing really, I just had a bad fall..”

He eyed your face for a moment before nodding

“That looks bad, make sure you get that looked at ok?”

“I will” you smiled and sighed as he left the tent.

Luckily on your way back you didn’t run into anyone.

***************************************************

“Alright dismissed” warriors turned to prepare for the next raid and Neteyam was about to follow them when his father held him back.

“Wait there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

Jake looked a bit uneasy but continued on, “it’s about y/n.”

Neteyam perked up at this, “Why? did something happen?”

“I saw her just now in our tent getting herbs, she was…skittish and I saw really nasty looking bruise.”

Neteyam nodded, “She fell in the forest…on some rocks she said...”

“She’s one of the best climbers in the clan Neteyam”

“I know this…do…do you think she was lying?” He furrowed his brows. His mate never lied to him before. Even saying it out loud sounded weird.

Jake tilted his head, “I’m not saying that but…” Neteyam nodded as if coming to a decision.

“Yeah ok… I’ll talk to her”. He thanked his father and went about his duties. He was definitely going to have a talk when he got home.

****************************************************

You had been resting in your tent for most of the day when you realized you had nothing prepared for dinner. Neteyam mentioned he would stay a couple nights so it was only right he had a nice hot meal while he was here.

Sighing you stood up and exited the tent. You could at least catch a couple fish for the both of you.

You grabbed your fishing net and made your way towards the river.

It was evening time but there were a few Navi around.

Good, you didn’t want to be alone..

Throughout the next hour you kept glancing around but luckily you hadn’t seen him so far.

It was dark now everyone had mostly gone so you decided to call it quits as well. you managed to catch a couple small fish but just needed to check your last net tied to the tree.

Slowly so not to aggravate your wounds you climbed ontop of a giant rock. This net was along the river edge but from higher up.

Due to the weather getting colder it was better not to get into the water.

You kneeled on the rock and bent down to pull up your net.

The sudden screech of an Ikran roared behind you. It happened within seconds, you turned only to have a wing smack into you propelling you forward.

You gasped then were suddenly choking and spluttering on freezing water.

You whipped your head around to face the Ikran. You mentally screamed realizing it was HIS Ikran. And the devil in question laughter heartily from the tree line. He whistled and his Ikran flew towards him.

You didn’t wait to see what he would do next, you scrambled out of the river shivering and ran back as fast as you could.

Cold so cold, the night wind only made it that much worse.

Your teeth chattered violently. Hot tears pouring down your cheeks.

You slammed the tent flap open and clambered inside.

“Y/n?” Neteyam sprung up from his sitting position and practically sprinted to you.

Oh great mother not now! You thought he would be out still with the warriors!

“Y/n?! What happened?? why are you soaking wet?!” Neteyam grabbed your shoulders looking you up and down.

“I-I” your voice came out in a cold stutter. The temperature settling in deep into your body.

Neteyam pulled you closer to the fire and helped you remove your wet things before handing you a woven blanket.

“Yawne please, tell me what happened” Neteyam pulled you closer to him, hoping his body heat would help.

He wiped away your tears but they flowed like an endless river.

“I-I....I fell in the river.” Neteyam tensed, he could see your hesitation and how you wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“And how did that happen hm? What aren’t you telling me?” His voice was more firm now.

Should you tell him? But you didn’t want to cause trouble and disturb the alliance. It was your fault you were weak…

“Y/n!” You gasped, Neteyam hardly if ever raised his voice at you.

You couldn’t even answer as your sobs and distress grew louder. Now the love of your life was angry with you. Why could you never do anything right?!

Neteyam softened completely seeing your distress, “Alright alright, mawye my love, it’s alright, mawye…I’m sorry, please don’t cry” he hugged you tightly, bringing your head to his chest. He held you like that soothingly stroking your back until your sobs quieted down.

You slowly pulled away still not meeting his eyes.

Neteyam brought a finger to your chin and slowly pushed it up.

His heart broke seeing the puffiness. He followed the finger to your cheek and splayed them out. You leaned into his warmth.

“Whatever it is, you know I am with you my love.”

You let out a shakey breathe. “I know…” you whispered brokingly.

“And I will always be there for you… no matter what it is but I can’t help if I don’t know what is wrong.”

You reached up to hold the hand caressing your face. “I am always causing you trouble Neteyam.”

He blinked at this, “what?”

“I’m always causing you trouble…I don’t want to burden you…”

Neteyams brows furrowed, “Yes you are trouble but you are never a burden to me- where is this coming from?” He asked still confused.

“I’m weak Neteyam..”

“Y/n you’re not-“

You gulped and said it again, “I am weak. You shouldn’t have to protect me, I should be able to defend myself like everyone else but I just…I’m not a fighter Neteyam.. it’s never been an issue but now…” you sniffled trying not to break down again. “I-I didn’t want to bother you with this… you have way more important matters- I just- it’s getting worse and he isn’t stopping I-“ you were babbling out what you could, your mate trying to piece everything together but once he heard the word “he” he froze.

The wheels started turning in Neteyams mind, he didn’t know what he thought actually happened to you but the second he realized it was another person who hurt you a hot surge of anger coursed through him.

The grip on your face tightened but not painfully. “Someone did this to you? His eyes motioned to your bruises, voice dangerously calm but brimming with unleashed rage. He kept calm for your sake.

You nodded looking away in shame. Well you tried but he brought your face back to his glowing eyes.

“Tell me”

You bit your lip nervously.

“Tell me who dared to lay a hand on my mate…”

You hesitated, “I… I’m afraid it will damage war relations…”

Neteyam held back a snarl. So it was one of the other clans men then..

“Tell me”

You were about to protest again but Neteyams eyes made you pause. They held so much emotion. Love, anger, but most importantly in this moment they promised you safety.

With a deep breathe you closed your eyes then opened them again, “…Tu’Mey…”

Neteyam clenched his fist to keep himself from bursting just quite yet.

“Listen carefully y/n” you nodded.

“You will tell me everything and leave nothing out do you understand?” His tone left no room for arguing.

So you listened and told him everything.

And when you finally finished, you were taken aback at the speed Neteyam removed his hand from you. In all of 3 seconds he had grabbed his knife and ax and stormed to the door.

“N-Neteyam!”

“Stay here Mate” before you could protest he was gone.

You slumped down in a heap. Oh great mother what would happen now?!

Part 2

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Thanks for reading! Part 2 is up now🥰

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 4

summary ;; A father protects, that's what gives him meaning. Jake Sully has failed. PART 3 | PART 5 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; PLEASE READ AUTHOR NOTES. I explicitly said in the previous chapter I would NO LONGER BE TAKING TAG REQUESTS. You're just going to have to check my profile every now and then. I also will not be re-tagging the peeps I did in the last chapter’s replies, it’s just a lot 😭 I'm sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your understanding! Now I present you, the long awaited angst and groveling of Jake. Enjoy! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any. Thank you so much for the lovely comments and support, I hope the angst hits the way you wanted it / was expecting HHHHH

It’ll shine better, Jake mused to himself, rotating the lumpy amber around in his fingers to better reflect the sunlight streaming in thin rays from the hands of the dense flora above, once I dip this in that polish oil. It’s not entirely unsalvageable. 

At least he hadn’t scraped too much in attempts to give it a rounder shape, the bug at its core you were gushing about to the point of waking him up at zero dark thirty was still intact. He had been summoned from his dreams to look at a cool rock. 

Jake couldn’t not gift it to you as something to be permanently worn after that.

The problem? He was ass at this. Always had been. No drop of craftsmanship in his bloodstream at all when the Na’vi were particularly fond of their ornaments and accessories, making it themselves, in fact. 

Songcords were put together from beads, bones and stones, virtuosity was a must intrinsically woven into everyday life, methodized and irreplaceable since it wasn’t as if mass production could ever be a thing in Pandora. Everything was handmade. 

Jake’s worst enemy beadwork was in their clothing, for example, even in braids — his maladroit at it may or may not be why he wore his hair in plain dreads now. 

He wasn’t an artist or a creator, his hands were more comfortable being fit around a gun or a knife than slipping effortlessly in the rhythm of weaving or the act of making. All his end results were dreadful enough to be bullied relentlessly by his kids — except for you, that is. You absolutely loved them for reasons your mother or none of your siblings could understand. 

Jake’s blundering conscience would melt at the sight of your eyes shining and the biggest smile almost splitting your head in half as if he had just handed you the world every single time he gifted you the newest of his clunky handiwork. He didn’t know why that made you the happiest. You’d been that way ever since you saw him carving and personally adding a bead to his songcord about how he got his firstborn daughter to utter her first word: dada. 

It was important to him, so, down it had gone into Jake’s life story; putting official significance to the moment he never wanted to forget in the same thread that carried the story of him becoming Toruk Makto, just beside Neteyam’s first word, which was also dadada. (Neytiri had Lo’ak’s mam, and Kiri’s perfectly articulated mommy.)

Ever since that day, you had made grabby hands at the bead all the time when he picked you up, teethed at it like a puppy trying to grab a toy, tried to rip it off to make it yours — anything, until Neytiri made you one, but no, you wanted it from dada. 

So dada started making you little trinkets. 

He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing you never grew out of receiving gifts from your dad he himself cringed at. Jake wasn’t one to complain, not when someone in this life would feel such enough joy to purify thousands of blighted souls upon receiving his ugly personal work. It made him happy, stroked his ego to high heavens that his sweetheart was doting on dada to see the imperfect as the most fascinating. 

That’s why he had taken on the daunting task of making a bead for you out of the amber you’d fixated on, rasp in one hand, sitting on a thick log that cut into the little stream he and his family were spending leisurely time that day, one leg pulled to himself and one feet in the water up to his ankle. Even though he had half an ear on his four children playing around in the shallow water of the creek, all the screams and squeals of joy felt weak compared to the contained huff of amusement that escaped from his mate who had come up to Jake while he was way too engrossed in his task. 

His eyes shifted to Neytiri, watching her hop on to the log in one agile move. “Don’t laugh.”

“I am not laughing,” Neytiri said, crouching to sit, her mouth twitched upwards as she looked at the amber in his hand.

“I have eyes, Neytiri, I literally see you laughing.” His face used to burn at her openly teasing about beadmaking, but his oldest daughter’s attentions had restored his bruised confidence over the years. The slander wasn’t taken lightly these days as Jake had proudly relabeled the odd shapes of his work as a creative choice. “Right to my face.”

“You’re mistaken.” 

Jake made his jaw drop, overacting his bafflement. “Wow, gaslighting? Really?”

Neytiri hit his arm lightly. In her terms, it was light, at least. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s something you shouldn’t do to your mate.” He turned his back to her, giving a look over his shoulder. “You’re abusing me. I’m being abused.”

“Baby.”

“No amount of pet names are gonna fix my broken heart.”

“No. You are a baby. I’m insulting you.” Neytiri hadn’t even laughed, but the uplifted timbre of that sentence sure did make Jake snicker in disbelief. “If you can’t take it, maybe you should leave beading to me.”

“I would say they are fashionably off,” he defended. You carried them with delight, so why shouldn’t Jake take more pride in his work? “And you said practice makes perfect years ago, I remember the exact words—”

“Years ago. You still haven’t gotten any better at it.” Neytiri was his biggest supporter and criticizer at the same time. “And you became a part of the clan back in the day in three months Jake. Never a more unbelievable thing to me than this.” 

“I’m trying alright?” He turned back to the bead, or, vaguely bead-shaped amber, if technical terms were involved. It still had a whole adventure to embark on until it could receive the noble title of a bead. “She likes what I make, at least.”

“It’s because she’s your daughter and anything you do is out of this world. Beauty in the most unlikely places. A child’s love is pure that way.” The unexpected hypnotism of poetry in that sentence alone pulled Jake’s gaze to Neytiri’s, and for a moment, he could physically feel his heart within his ribcage being squeezed, tethering on painful, but with a joyful tinge. “She doesn’t have standards yet.”

Well, that hurt. “Damn.”

“Damm!” A pair of small and branch-thin arms wrapped around his neck from behind, and something, or rather, someone, latched onto his back. “Rahh!” 

Jake should have been suspicious of how silent it had gotten halfway into his talk with Neytiri. Turns out, you had swam underneath the log to get out of his line of sight, climbing with the stealth of a bug to come up undetected. 

Well, mark Jake down as impressed, you weren’t able to do that without being spotted until today, this was another wonderful milestone for you — you had learned impressively, taking advantage of his distraction, avoiding making noise and using water to your advantage. Neytiri must have given you some pointers. 

And now he was wondering if his mate was in on this all along, purposefully disturbing his peace so their kids could see an opening to pounce on him.  

“Oof!” Your hold on him was something he could break out of any minute with how adorably strong you were exerting yourself to make it, but he wanted to play along more than anything. Jake was acting panicked, swinging his body left and right from the waist, but really, it was just a light warm-up exercise with the easiest deadlift possible. “I’m being ambushed!”

“I got you now, Toruk Makto!” You wrapped your legs around his torso, and he felt like this was just a piggyback ride with extra steps. “Watch this, mom!”

Oh, it’s on. 

Discreetly handing Neytiri the amber, Jake stood up, bringing you up with him and fighting a smile at your clipped squeak as the height became too much too quick, causing you to cling onto him stronger. He reached behind, and within seconds, he had you in his hands, holding you from the armpits and dangling you above the stream, your kicking legs beating the air, and he cackled like a villain threatening to fling the hero from atop of a skyscraper. 

“You got me? Please.” He loosened his grip the slightest amount to give you the illusion he would let go, and you stopped struggling to scream, catching his forearms. “A measly thing like you? Conquering me? I’ll show you why I’m the king of the skies! Here I come!”

Making sure you wouldn’t get hurt, Jake threw you into the water as gently as possible, but made the angle entertaining enough so you would go flying. He wasn’t sure who’d screeched the highest, your three siblings who had you spearheading this little operation with full trust in your capabilities, or you reacting like you were falling down from an ikran midair. Either way, he was enjoying bullying his kid a bit too much. 

Emerging from the stream and shaking the water off too akin to a wet dog, your first action was to shield your siblings, open arms and whole body and all. “Nete, run! Protect Lovak and Kiri, I’ll save you!”

Jake’s evil smile looming on his kids wavered at that. 

You had problems with some letters even at the big age of eight, two vowels next to each other in one word was one of them, along with the confusion of “f” and “b”, and sometimes “p” — it made for hilarious misunderstandings Jake had to fight to be a parent about instead of busting a lung from laughing. 

One of the many unforgettable events was deemed “The Fish Incident” between Jake, Max and Norm. He had been recording Neteyam’s first catch on his own to add it to the cute memory pile he and his mate would watch in the future after all their children eventually moved out to pursue their paths. You happened to be present that time, watching intently as your big brother shot a particularly giant yellow fish, eagerly jumping down to the pond to get it and showing it to the camera with a shy, yet proud grin on his face. 

“Good job, boy!” Jake had cheered. “Say I got that fish!”

Out of the camera’s frame and making little jumps on your toes, you’d blithely yelled. “Yeah, you got that bish!” 

The rest of the footage was shaky and out of focus, the microphone hadn’t picked up any sound but Jake’s uncontrollable laughter, kicked off by an exploding snort of shock. 

You and Neteyam had no idea why, but after he’d stopped recording with tears streaming down his face, wheezing because he couldn’t stop laughing, you’d joined to laugh and play with him regardless, mirroring his excitement. 

Later though, Jake had to actively make it so you wouldn’t have to say the words kitchen and pitch (and obviously, fish) out loud, at least, in front of Neytiri. He didn’t want to abstain from having a little fun himself, so under no circumstance was she allowed to find out and correct you. And he had it going strong for a while until it slipped when he was talking about a scientist friend over at Hell’s Gate called Richard and you repeated it as “Bitchard”. The word had somehow weaseled into your English lexicon as well, and Neytiri wasn’t illiterate enough to be oblivious to what you’d merrily blurted. 

Good old days. Jake sometimes missed hearing you curse innocently. Neytiri had to take that source of joy away from him. Discouragement and warnings would be given to his kids if they knowingly cussed, of course, Kiri calling Lo’ak penis face was something he’d immediately shot down, but this was harmless, he thought. He could have let you be blissfully unaware until the day you learned the meaning of the words, or gain consciousness of the articulation errors as you grew up and naturally fix it yourself. It was only a natural part of a child’s growth.  

But he had other entertainment. The obligatory consonant you had to sometimes add to two different neighboring vowels if it was too difficult for you to pronounce, for example. Your little brother was a victim to this. Thankfully, Lo’ak wasn’t bothered to be called Lovak by his older sister, somehow thinking of it as a nickname, but Jake could bet his ass the boy would use this as infinite ammo against you once both of you were older. He would of course forget how you always protected him in play fighting like right now, of course, maybe you would remember enough to accuse him of ungratefulness, and perhaps Lo’ak would declare he didn’t recall anything such as that. 

How bittersweet of a thing it was to drift into imaginations of how his kids would be like when they grew up. Like the stinging ache Jake always got when he was confronted with the sadness of losing his children forever one day — the need to put every minute with them in a bottle, and the feeling of time slipping through his fingers, the same old melancholy each time: when it first dawned on Jake that you’d successfully sneaked up on him just now, when Neteyam had captured his first fish all on his own without assistance, when Lo’ak showed him the knife he had successfully carved by himself to get his approval, and when Kiri had tended to a scratch wound of his better than her grandmother did with precocious wisdom on her face. 

Jake was making every moment count. Just like this one. 

“Nobody is safe from me, I’ll huff and I’ll puff and blow your house in!” He jumped down from the log with the grace and intimidation of a leopard who had been disturbed while eating up the tree he’d dragged his meal on, splashing water everywhere. “What will you do, o’ mighty hunter?”

You loved being called mighty hunter by him, he saw the sparkle in your eyes. 

“Noooo!” Kiri cried, pulling on both Lo’ak and Neteyam’s arms huddled behind you. “He’ll get us!”

Your thought process, completely spooked by Jake, was painfully visible. But surprisingly, you yelled, “Scatter!” with the experience of a rave addict who would take a forty and smash it on the ground as the police closed in on the party grounds. And his kids ran in different directions, like a group of cockroaches when someone approached them, they all ran in different directions. 

Sloshing water all around to make it more terrifying, he got Kiri first, hauled her right over his shoulder when she made for Neytiri, thinking her mother could protect her, but no. Jake was inevitable. Lo’ak gave him a weak challenge trying to step around him, getting Jake to confuse his steps as if they were playing basketball, but this was his dad he was facing and not Spider, these tricks didn’t work on veterans, so now he was flush to Jake’s side, tail facing forward, carried like some strapless bag, it didn’t even put any strain on the man’s bicep. Neteyam was the last, hiding beneath the water level and holding his breath, but the little nose peeking out for air gave him away, and Jake had him up the other shoulder in seconds, the boy didn’t have enough time to run away even though he’d spied from underwater that Jake was coming for him. 

Three out of four. That left only his eldest daughter. 

You were nowhere to be seen. The delighted and struggling giggle-cries of the three kids in his arms and shoulders didn’t help at all to Jake taking his surroundings in with a keen ear, all senses attuned to spotting the stray. 

A rustle from above. 

“Attack him!” 

He didn’t have enough time to see just which branch of the trees cocooning the creek you had climbed on before all three in his arms turned on him, flailing around together in unison to get Jake to fall down and kneel, and it surprisingly worked, he couldn’t even recover between the blink of a time between them getting off the way and you jumping down on him. The height at which you did that knocked all air off his ribcage for a second as he tried to retain balance, and you took that chance to sit on his shoulders, your legs dangling from each one, grabbing onto two dreads on his head as if they were the tails of Toruk he once had held onto like leashes. 

Jake had to give this one to you, damn. When had you become a student of the art of strategizing? 

But, defeat was defeat. He had to play his part. “This can’t be!” He opened his arms, making it seem cartoonishly like he had been incapacitated. “I’ve been… bested?”

“That’s right!” The cockiness was dripping from you as you pulled on his dreads. “I’m Toruk Makto Makto now. The first of my name!”

Your siblings started cheering battle cries, repeating the word. 

Don’t laugh, he ordered himself. Toruk Makto Makto, what a title, oh Jesus Christ. 

“Alright, alright, you got me, mighty hunter.” 

“So I win?”

“Yes, you win.”

He was going to have two less dreads on his head if you kept pulling on them like this. “Hell yeah!” 

After hearing the declaration, his other children also joined in on the ‘Hell yeah!’ train. Jake supposed he could let this slide for now, you guys were too happy, he wouldn’t sully it. 

“You’re gonna rip my hair off, get down now.” You understood play time was over from his tone, and obeyed, hopping down his shoulders when he lowered you into the water, immediately attempting to rush to your siblings’ side to be celebrated, but Jake had something else in mind. “C’mere for a sec.”

He pulled you to the edge of the stream where water met grassy land, dipping his hand into the wet soil under your confused gaze and bringing his fingers up to trace a pattern on your face.

The reaction was instantaneous. You pulled back. “Ew, mud!”

“Hold on,” he gently warned, or rather, encouraged.

You let him continue whatever he was doing then, albeit not losing the laughable concern along the way. “What’s this?”

“Well, you’ve tamed Toruk Makto before an ikran. My mighty hunter should be painted accordingly, no?”

He pointed down and you followed it with your eyes. Seeing your reflection and the ‘V’ shape with a dot on your face in the water, you stopped yourself from touching it with the impulse control that kicked in at the last second, looking up at Jake, jumping up and down, unable to contain the energy, knowing exactly what he did just now. He’d recognized you as a prospective hunter candidate. “Thank you, dad!”

Jake could swear his insides liquidized at that. “Always, sweetheart.”

“Will you paint me like this when I finally get an ikran, too?”

“Of course I will.” He actually wanted to cup your cheeks and plant a little kiss at the adorable flat of your nose but the mud would be ruined, so he pet your braids instead. “As will your mother. It’s what family does.”

At the time, Jake didn’t have the slightest inkling that the paint would end up being your own blood. 

Neytiri’s bloody hands — your blood, his child, his child, his baby Jake’s entire day would stop at seeing one tear on her face — had been stroking your face, trying to hold on to you anywhere she could to soothe your flaming pain as you were squirming like a dying animal fighting for the next breath. His heart beating right behind his eyes in a massive pulsating headache, Jake was too desperate fighting his swelling panic with each noise that ripped from you to notice they had left the vague pattern of Iknimaya paint pattern in their wake. 

She did. 

And her following anguished, gasping shudder as her shaking hands hovered above your contorted face, tracing the air along the lines the blood had left on your face ended up hitting him right in the gut. He couldn’t dwell on it. He couldn’t let this random twisted sign sweep him into the roaring waterfall of torment, your life was on the line.  

Jake didn’t have any coherent memory of running back to the mouth of the cave from the family tent. One moment, he was back with his brain fried from thinking about Quaritch in the aftermath of an hour that had just taken twenty years from his lifespan, avoiding the inquisitive silence of his kids who hadn’t gone back to bed yet; and the other, Neytiri was screaming in the distance with terror worse than the anguish he’d heard her go through upon losing her father and her home. Jake had all but flown there, mind blank in swirling, spasming panic. 

Neytiri had told him he had a strong heart the first time they’d met. No fear. Even though Jake was aware he was being disliked strongly, this quality of his she had remarked on, honest to her soul. 

But she was wrong. 

That fearless fortress heart of his had begun to crumble the moment he learned of Neteyam’s existence. And with each and every new addition to their family, Jake had been rehabilitated on what fear truly was, like a baby learning a language. 

Losing. It was all about losing. 

He would wake up from terrorizing, choking nightmares with the sensation of his family being violently taken away from him when his children were in his arms, sleeping peacefully all along. He couldn’t stop it. It had spiraled out of control after the sky people came back, turning him into a paranoid, angry man who was ruled by fear. He worried for the safety of his family every day, obsessed over it — beneath the impenetrable iron mask of a leader his whole clan was leaning on, Jake was nothing more than a weak, emotionally crippled father who would lose it the more his children grew up to take reckless actions he made worse by the inability to govern his fear-curbed anger. He called it tough love. 

That tough love had resulted in this. Loss. Loss. Loss he had tried his damnedest to prevent. It was blood slipping through his fingers from a wound he had no way of stitching back together. 

The more he pushed to block the bullet entrance point, the more you fought Jake, making feral yowls that weakened into animalistic whimpers and throaty whines that all but ripped his heart off muscle by muscle, your hits and scratches didn’t faze him, but the noises. Eywa, the noises. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know you’re in pain, I know, I know, I’ll make it go away, please hold on, c’mon.” The droplets of sweat that had formed in the matter of seconds rolled down his face. You had begun to hyperventilate from the accelerating pain because of his efforts. “C’mon sweetheart. Breathe for me, breathe for dad, okay? You gotta breathe. Breathe!”

You were unhearing, lost in the overwhelming, blinding, deafening agony he couldn’t anchor or shield you from. The grunt of desperation that escaped his sore throat rattled his carbon fiber infused bones.  

Jake didn’t have time to think. His reason had flown out the mountains to be able to force one single word to form in his mindscape. He just knew he had to stop the bleeding, propelled by concentrated instinct. You were struggling too much for him to have a solid hold on you. Everything, too slippery. Too much blood. Too fucking much. The sickening smell of iron bit at his senses. 

(Was it the liver? The spleen? Pancreas? One of the major arteries? But Na’vi biology wasn’t the same as humans. Fuck.) 

Then, you were being restrained by a third party, Neytiri was too devastated to make that reasonable decision, and in his peripheral vision, he saw it was Neteyam who had sat down on your legs, restricting your movements with incredible strength. Jake couldn’t even bark at him to go away with how much Neteyam looked in control, a rock he and Neytiri both could draw strength from. Behind him, Lo’ak was a stone statue just standing there, frozen, his eyes not leaving your bloody abdomen. 

When you let out a yelp his heart could no longer stand, he yelled, “Bring a stretcher!” to nobody in particular, out of his goddamn mind. Lo’ak jumped at it, coming back to his senses, hesitating what to do for a second before he was off to god knows where. He had to take you to Norm’s, and then a doctor—

A tiny, trembling voice he couldn’t recognize as Neteyam’s reached his ears. “Dad…” 

The boy was looking at you, blown eyes shining with unshed tears, upper set of teeth sinking in his shaky bottom lip. 

You had gone slack in his arms. 

He hadn’t even seen the moment, didn’t stop putting pressure on the wound as the dread assaulted his body. And a biting shiver went down his spine before Jake also looked down on his eldest daughter. Your eyes weren’t closed all the way, halted gaze focused on something to the side, one tear rolling down your temple. 

“Don’t do this to me.” Jake couldn’t breathe as he shook his head, he was about to lose it, about to tumble down the edge he could never climb his way up from. In denial, he didn’t lift his hands, losing all strength in his upper body and gradually collapsing forward as his forehead found yours. “Don’t do this to me, sweetheart, not like this. Please, not like this.”

The last thing you were looking at was the ikran you’d gotten.

Jake didn’t feel that very ikran making its way to their side, flapping its wings, didn’t feel anything to react when a snoot reached down and ever-so-gently nudged you, like you were asleep and it was given the duty to wake you up in the morning that day. 

Your ikran nudged you once. Twice. Thrice. Each push was harsher than the other. 

You didn’t wake up. Your eyes didn’t get their light back. 

A paralyzing numbness took over Jake’s body, all his neuron ends stunted. The moon stopped spinning, time stopped moving, he ceased existing, all at the same time. 

A piercing ringing stabbed his ears, took away his hearing. He didn’t hear Neytiri scream louder than the ikran, you were ripped from his arms, and he couldn’t move to do anything about it, just staring into the distance, at nothing, bloodied palms facing upwards in his lap. 

It was Neteyam who tried to stop his wailing mother from going mad with grief, trying to get her to set down your body from her crushing embrace even though he couldn’t take his misty eyes off your body. It was Lo’ak, frantic in his run even though his panic-frozen face gave away nothing, who had rushed back with Mo’at and Kiri. It was Tuk who had thrown herself into his arms for a hug Jake wasn’t in his body to reciprocate, his seven year old child, in tears, comforting him when Jake, as the adult and the father, should have had his shit together and be the provider of comfort. 

Instead, all he could feel was the blood on his hands, one small part in his mind making him focus on that one amber with a bug inside he’d carved for you, years ago, now in your hair.

The tears didn’t come. His world was shattering all around him, but not one tear made it to the surface. 

Someone was talking to him, but Jake wasn’t there, experiencing the moment behind a thick veil of silencing glass. 

“Open her mouth, Jakesuli.”

He looked at the source of the muffled sound breaching the ringing in his ears, painfully empty and unfeeling. It was Mo’at. In her hand, a woodsprite gently floated in the air and landed before it repeated the motion again. It was as if his brains had been emptied from his skull. He didn’t understand. He didn’t see. Tuk was clinging to him, Neytiri doubled down in waves of cries in Neteyam’s arms. Jake wasn’t there. 

“Open her mouth so I can keep her spirit here longer,” Mo’at said. “Do it now. We do not have much time.”

And Jake could breathe again, his soul slinged back into his body, feeling returning to the tips of his fingers, kicking into action. 

He cradled your body from the cold ground you were lying on, bringing his shaky hand to your tightly shut jaw. Your body couldn’t have been experiencing rigor mortis, so you must have been clenching your teeth to the point of your jaw locking to fight the pain, and he was nearly blinded from the sheer strength with which he had to hold back from hugging you. But he eventually opened your jaw with a sickening pop that made him visibly grimace, and Mo’at guided the woodsprite to slip inside the cavity of your mouth.

The bioluminescent dots on your body began to flicker the moment your mouth was closed again. Jake gave a shuddering breath at the sign of life, hands unsure if he should continue to cover the wound again. 

“Eywa has allowed her to remain. For a while.”

“Oh Great Mother, thank you!” Neytiri took one of your hands, pressing it against her cheek and kissing it over and over again. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Bring her to my tent,” the Tsahik simply stated, and Jake didn’t even stop to consider how he should be taking you to the science guys, how they were probably going to say you needed a blood transfusion and surgery right after they got the necessary tests such as MRI and blood analysis out of the way. Kiri, sniffling weakly, took the crying Tuk away so Jake could carry you. He couldn’t comfort his girls the way he wanted to, couldn’t attend to Neytiri as their sons consoled her and got consoled in return in a tight hug together; he was on the move, heart about to beat out of his chest.  

He took you in his arms and clutched your unconscious and ashen blue body tightly to his chest, your head lolling in the crook of his arm, arriving to Mo’at’s tent faster than she did — and oh, how small you were compared to him, how fragile and vulnerable. The attitude made you appear bigger than you actually were, and Jake was reminded how you were still a child from how light his daughter was, like a fleeting bird. He’d forgotten. It had been forever since he last held you like this that he couldn’t bear to lay you down on the mat. If only he could hide you away within his ribcage, away from the pain and the suffering, forever.

“Everything in this world is borrowed,” she told him, an incense was burned, salves were prepared, tools he had no idea on what they were used were brought out. Plants, herbs. Jake stood there, helpless. “Even this child, Eywa has lent to you. She is borrowed from the bosom of our Great Mother, entrusted to you. Entrusted.” Your freckles were still flickering, and Tsahik’s tone, clipped. “I will converse with her. Ask if she plans to call her daughter back home today.”

Ice washed over Jake. “No, you gotta heal her, Mo’at, I can't lose m—”

“Everything in this world is borrowed. Each breath. Each heartbeat. All children. All gifts from Eywa.” Her eyes bore into him. “I can only ask.”

Neytiri pounced on him as soon as he stumbled out of the tent, beaten and spent despite not having one scratch on his body, upon Kiri’s entrance to assist her grandmother in tending to you. 

“Your fault!” He was violently pushed back, only able to take in the woman’s bloodied, wrathful face, tear tracks freshened with saltwater she couldn’t stop shedding. “This is your fault! I told you! I told you to fix this!”

Jake was aware other clan members were watching even if they weren’t out of their homes, he was Olo’eyktan, their leader, his pride would have taken this to their own tent had this been any other debate, but now, he couldn’t give a flying fuck. Bruising his back was the weight of a failed father instead of the ornamental piece of the clan leader, it was unbearable enough. She was right. There was nothing else to be said. His mate was right. 

“Mother, please,” Neteyam was right beside them in a flash, holding Neytiri back and shielding his father from her. His sunken eyes found Lo’ak and Tuk crouching at the edge of the tent, huddled together, the youngest having the crying hiccups as her older brother had an arm around her, himself looking traumatized enough. 

“Don’t, boy.” Jake put a hand on his stone-hard shoulder, moving him aside. Neteyam took one hard look at Neytiri half-circling his father in long strides, and decided it was best if he took care of his siblings instead even if he wasn’t told outright. He ushered Tuk and Lo’ak up and away, to the other side of the tent where they wouldn’t disturb their parents by staying in the field of vision. 

Jake should have been the one to take control, but Neteyam had stepped up for it — he was a kid, too, eldest child or not. What the fuck am I doing? 

In his tumultuous sorrow, every piece of the fortress Jake had put together was coming down, every decision re-evaluated, emotion overtaking what he once thought as logic. His fault. His fault. He had ruined his children, all of them. He had thought embracing the iron will of a war chief would allow him to be a strong father figure, but it had only alienated his family. 

You had died in his arms. 

Jake contained every storm in a box inside his body, Neytiri lived those storms, she was strong that way. He would take it. Her eyes were only seeing red at the moment, the grief and wrath of a wronged mother. “Yeah, it’s my fault,” he told her, something between a whisper and a sigh. His kids deserved to hear it. “I know.”

“She is dying because of you!” Jake couldn’t escape the truth by closing his eyes, but he did anyway, like an automatic body reflex against detecting something would be hitting him. He swallowed, his mouth was drier than a desert, no relief was found in the action. “My daughter! My child! Your child!” She pushed him again, hissing. Jake didn’t do anything to stop it. “All because you told her to go today—everything, everything… All because you didn’t reach out to her. She hid that.” A shiver shook her voice. “That… because of you. You! She thought you would be angry!”

Violent horror seized his heart, ears pinning back on his head, knuckles clenching so light blue they were almost white. “I would… I would never—how could I ever—?”

But it was in character, wasn’t it? Jake always getting angry over worry for his children. Going crazy because they could have gotten hurt. Fear grows into anger, worm eating away the bark of a tree into poisonous snake. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, chest rising and falling in big breaths, there was no air.  

“She said you hated her. Over and over again, she said you hated her. Not to call you because you would hate her for it, Jake!”

Bitter guilt and glacial shock rose from his stomach, choking him, his eyes looking at anywhere but Neytiri’s blazing golden eyes, to his children who sat together seemingly away from them but blatantly listening, to the tent flames were barely illuminating the shadows inside. His legs were weak. All that he had been breaching behind a wall to prioritize your safety flooded rancid to his mind. 

Jake got angry at you all the time that you’d expected it at your most vulnerable. That he would blame you, reprimand you for his enemy’s actions.

His memories were attacked by all sides. That you had gone off on your own for the Iknimaya everybody should have been there for, he should have painted your face personally for. That you have been hiding the bleeding out from the moment Jake had found you pinned down by the dead body of an avatar, from the moment you’d answered positively to the question of if you were hurt or not, with that rifle he’d thought you didn’t let go because of how the events had shaken you. He opened his mouth, a gaping fish, but no words came out, mute and voiceless. 

Hate you? Hate you? Hate his own child he would burn the whole world for?

His child. Suffering in silence when her nature was anything but silent. Afraid of her father when she was the most fearless of his kids when facing him.

You thought you weren’t loved.

“What have you done to our children? What has this family become? What are we if our children are too afraid to come to us in their darkest hours?” Neytiri was snarling, both fury and grief battling inside her, teeth gnashing so hard they could sharpen a knife. “What child does not seek her parents when she is hurt?” 

Unseeing, Jake couldn’t stand anymore, staggering towards a particularly large rock and sitting on it, he raised his hands to rub his face but stopped when he saw the blood. 

All yours. All his daughter’s who he had failed. Who had died in his arms thinking she was hated because Jake was a shit excuse of a father you couldn’t trust to say you were hurt that you would take the risk of dying so he wouldn’t find out. 

His daughter’s blood, on his hands. 

He put his elbows to his legs, crossing his wrists to lean his forehead on, yet unable to hide his shaking hands even if he managed to hide his face. Jake couldn’t comprehend any of this, crushed beneath the skyful of burning hot shame and the guilt dwarfing him — tears he couldn’t seem to shed found life in his eyes at him trying to blink away the memory of you clinging to your ikran at the flight home. You had been suffering the whole time and all he could think about was Quaritch when he should have been thinking of you.

“What child would rather hide her injury than let her father know?” It shocked his spine like lightning, and Jake visibly flinched, fists clenching and unclenching. “Explain this to me!” 

Shame. Shame. Shame. Jake was about to throw up, rocking back and forth.

He had nothing to say. Nothing could ever excuse this. He couldn’t wash away all your moments from this night, all a cursed film strip haunting his every breath accompanied by thorns that ripped apart his insides. 

“If she lives,” Neytiri said, pointing a curled hand at him, slowly, scarily calm, but shaking with mastered rage. If she lives destroyed Jake.  “We would be lucky if my mother doesn’t decide to perform Stxel’eveng as Tsahik!” 

Jake’s head shot up at the word, his arms dropping altogether and meeting his mate’s tortured stare. As Olo’eyktan, he had to be taught the traditions and ceremonies to the point of talking in his sleep from overlearning — this one was a long lost one the clan hadn’t performed for a long time, as the Omatikayan were faithful and loyal to Eywa and her teachings. 

Stxel’eveng was the shortened word for ‘Gifting of a Child’ — an adoption ceremony within Na’vi that didn’t even have the word ‘adopt’ in their vocabulary, simply because it was almost non-existent, most Na’vi didn’t even know the existence of such a tradition. If the parents were unable to care and provide for their child, mistreated on purpose or neglected them to the point of no return, they were to be publicly dishonored by the gifting of said child to another willing family. A knot would be formed between the three, one thread bound around the waist of the mother signifying the womb, one thread fastened to the queue of the father, and the final thread to the wrists of the child as if they were captive. The knot, then, would be severed by Tsahik to symbolize the dissolvement of the familial relations in Eywa’s eyes.

The biggest shame a Na’vi could bring upon their name. 

“No,” Jake muttered, his mind going blank yet again. Fuck the shame. Damn his name. He couldn’t lose you. It’s a stone in his throat he can’t swallow, whales on his tongue he can’t speak to save himself.

“Pray to Eywa it doesn’t happen. Because if I was Tsahik, I would do it.” Neytiri turned away from him, pushing the heel of her hands on her damp eyes. “I cannot bear this shame, Jake. I can barely breathe.”

He quivered like a baby leaf caught in a storm, a couple more tears rolling down his cheeks. “Neytiri…” 

“I lost my daughter today. She slipped from my fingers. I watched her die.” He lowered his head at her grief, vision swimming. “How am I a mother when I can't feel her pain? How am I worthy of being her mother when I saw my child’s pain and just sat there helpless? Why would the Great Mother ever want to send her back?” She just kept going, not having any mercy on Jake’s soul. “Where was I when she won against her ikran? Where was I when she had her first flight? Where was I to protect her from those demons?”

A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning.

Who was Jake Sully?

“Lo’ak, come back here!” 

Both of them turned just in time to see their youngest son running away from the back of the tent they’d been hiding, Neteyam following a couple steps before he stopped to look back, probably at his sister. 

“I’ll get him,” Jake said, soulless and absentminded. Neytiri didn’t respond, stalking back to Mo’at’s tent, just kneeling in front of the entrance, wrapping her hands and tail around her knees. Tuk turned the corner, scampering towards her and finding refuge in Neytiri immediately wrapping around her protectively. 

Jake wasn’t allowed to comfort his mate. 

But he could get to his children who needed it. Trust, Neytiri had said. Honesty. 

Walking up to Neteyam, he put a warm hand behind his rigid back, and felt the taut muscles relax underneath his touch, another wave of shame hitting at the inability to recall just when he had last comforted his boy. 

“Get Tuk. Go home. Rest.”

Neteyam turned to him, scandalized. “We will stay.”

“Neteyam—”

“Dad—sir, please. I can’t leave my sister.”

That sir was a splash of acid on his already weeping heart. 

It dawned on Jake that Neteyam was the one witnessing your moment of death. Death. A surge of nausea shot up from his esophagus, and he didn’t stop himself from hooking an arm around the boy, careful of using his hands not to get blood on the eldest, pulling him into a much awaited embrace. He hadn’t allowed him to be a kid.

“It’s okay, Neteyam,” he croaked. “She’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Neteyam’s arms didn’t wrap around him, unfamiliar to the gesture — crumbling Jake’s already broken heart into dust, but he did shiver, fighting the tremble. He simply said, “I pray so.”

He was still trying to hold it together — for everybody’s sake. 

Jake felt the boy’s tears on his skin, and didn’t let him go when he tried to step back to wipe them, letting Neteyam cry silently as much as he wanted. He owed the boy that much, as his father. It was the least he could do. 

Jake would stitch this family back together. He had to.

Washing the blood off his hands had taken a while. Jake wasn’t let off easy, cursed by the remaining line of bloodied dirt in his nails. 

He found Lo’ak at where it all began. The mouth of the cave where your ikran was disturbing the other ones with restless chittering, reminding Jake of a wolf howling all night at the full moon. 

His youngest son was transfixed by the blood staining the ground. Just standing there, looking at it. Jake couldn’t protect him from the sight. Not anymore. He himself could barely stomach it.

“Is sister going to be taken away?” was the first thing he asked Jake, not looking at him still. 

Jake didn’t know if he meant death, or Stxel’eveng. 

“I pray not,” he told Lo’ak, honest for once. 

And like him, the boy wasn’t sentimental or emotional enough to bear his wounds to another, even to a family member, and fell silent. “It has Toruk’s colors,” he said instead, referring to your ikran’s red, orange, yellow and black patterns. Looking at the creature, Jake tried his hardest to stand up straight when he discerned all the blood coating its neck and back from the natural red color disguising it. “I wanted to fly with her.”

Pulling him into a side-hug, “I’m sorry, Lo’ak,” Jake admitted, causing him to finally break the trance he had on the blood. Speechless at his father, proud and strong, admitting he was wrong out loud and that he was being hugged when it wasn’t like his father at all to show them casual physical affection. Jake knew what must be going through his head, he would be thinking the same if his own father had ever taken responsibility for wrongdoings, as well.  “It’s my fault you didn’t get to.”

Lo’ak’s mouth was hanging low. “Dad…”

“But you will,” he said, determined and full of hope. He had to be. For his children. 

“You think so?”

“I pray so,” he quoted Neteyam. “Your sister is stubborn. She will pull through. Don’t lose faith in her.”

Lo’ak’s grip on his forearm was painful. 

“That ikran’s lost the half of its tail fins,” the boy sniffled, thickening his voice to hide the tears. “How did it get all the way here?”

It stung in Jake’s chest. The same way you’d hidden that injury. Your ikran was fueled only by the desire to get its rider to safety, it seemed. 

It would never fly again. 

Jake looked down at Lo’ak, only to be met with him avoiding his look, still concerned with hiding the tears. “Loyalty,” he said. “Devotion. Sometimes you don’t want to lose the things you love no matter what, that desperation gives you enough strength to push through any trial by fire. You would do anything. Anything.” 

And sometimes it was fear that did it, but he didn’t mention that to Lo’ak to not put salt on their family’s injury. Jake didn’t want to think about how terrified you must have been, or he would actually go insane. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of you not making it in the end. He had to keep going. He had to push forward. Be the father this family needed him to be. 

“Come on, boy,” he pulled Lo’ak gently. “Let’s go back.”

Your ikran whined at this pitifully. Jake tried not to think. He tried not to imagine what your reaction would be upon learning you would never fly together again, and had to put down this ikran that had been devoted endlessly to you if you wanted to get a new one. 

Jake didn’t think. Because if he did, he would actually go insane from the pain. 

Mo’at and Kiri emerged from the tent only in the morning, by which the whole family was cocooned in Jake’s embrace for the first time in years before the sky people had come back. They all had scrambled to get up, waiting with bated breath for one syllable of good news as Kiri slipped into Jake’s arms, one wink from falling asleep while standing. He kissed the girl’s head, soothing her, hoping this could be you eventually. He had been praying for it like a madman. 

“Eywa has accepted to bestow your daughter back to you, Jakesuli,” was the only answer Mo’at had for them, no word about your physical wellbeing. “But only if she accepts as well.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“You must go speak with her. At the Tree of Souls.”

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

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[moonpetrichors-blog]

hiii! i love ur avatar writing and i was wondering if u could write something about neteyam x reader, where they're childhood best friends but then some na'vi guy start to show interest in the reader and neteyam gets all jealous and realize than maybe he's in love with them? idk if this make sense, english is not my first language, sorry :((

All Mine

Tags: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader, Aonung x Omaticaya!Reader (Only Slight), Fem!Reader, Childhood Friend Romance, Friends To Lovers, Jealousy, Anguished Declarations Of Love, Neteyam Loses His Cool For Once

Warnings: Neteyam Daydreaming About Punching Aonung LMAO

Neteyam was walking along the beach with his siblings when he spotted you, talking to the Olo'eyktan’s son. It had never crossed his mind before that you, his childhood best friend, would eventually find someone to romantically pursue. Was it wrong to realize he wanted you to himself, and not in the arms of another boy?

OMG IM SO OBSESSED W THIS IDEA!!! If theres one trope I love, its a jealous love interest 🤭 also, trust me when I say ur English is perfect!! Fun fact but English is also my second language and growing up I was ass at speaking it LMFAO so ur not alone 😭☠️

Yellow Hyacinth - Jealousy

* ˚ ✦ 1663 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [02/01/23] ❞  

It had been roughly a week since you arrived on the Awa'atlu village's shoreline. When you initially arrived, the Olo'eyktan's son harassed you relentlessly.

There were many things he liked to call you. Freak, weirdo, dimwit, you name it.

There was nothing freak-like about you, per se, but the fact that you were from the forest made you a target to Aonung's bullying. What skills could a woodland girl teach sea people? It was dreadful that you had to hide among them in the first place.

Technically, you had no obligation to go into hiding with the Metkayina clan, but you felt as if the Omaticaya had nothing left for you when your childhood best friend, Neteyam, informed you that he and his family needed to flee.

When Neteyam initially told you that he had to abandon your clan, including you, you wailed into his arms as if he had just perished. You couldn't bear the thought of not being with Neteyam, even if it meant compromising your clan's safety.

The truth is, you overreacted so harshly because you’ve had feelings for Neteyam for years now. You’ve always been unsure if he reciprocated, but there were moments between the both of you where he’d send mixed signals; you didn’t know what shifted or when, but there was just something between you both that felt like you were more than just friends.

And now he wouldn’t be able to stay and see how your relationship would unfurl.

Maybe you were foolish to persuade Jake Sully into bringing you along, but he eventually agreed (albeit reluctantly), since you and his son made each other happy. Neteyam was pleased when you told him you were departing with him.

So there you were, well acquainted with the Metkayina, and accompanied by your dearest friend. Aside from Aonung's pestering, you could put up with it since you knew Neteyam would safeguard you.

However, the more time that you spent with the sea people, the more you began to suspect that it was only you who had detected something between you and Neteyam. You stopped sending hints, even if he overlooked them unintentionally, as it stung too much to persevere.

Aonung eventually stopped attempting to harass you, and you even developed a pleasant friendship with him. Tonowari, his father, had him apologize for his poor behavior; after that, he was actually fairly delightful to converse with.

This was your life now.

...

Neteyam sauntered along the coast, followed by Kiri and Lo'ak. He couldn't take his mind off you; were you safe? Was Aonung bothering you yet again? His father had chided him that he didn't need to be at your side all hours of the day, but he didn't quite understand why his father was amused when he talked about how Neteyam behaved with you. You were his best friend, of course he’s worried!

Regardless, Jake instructed him to keep an eye on his siblings, so he didn't have much of a choice in abandoning them and running to your rescue. Not with Lo'ak prowling behind him in search of trouble.

Neteyam maintained his walk, thinking to himself that he was exceedingly fortunate that you had left the clan for him, and although he wouldn't say it, he was overjoyed.

What he wasn't so thrilled with was how he'd discovered you'd grown closer to that jackass Aonung. You could talk to anybody you pleased, and he knew you were far too pure-hearted to entirely dismiss the Olo'eyktan's son, but why did he feel so bitter whenever he saw you together?

Speak of the devil.

Kiri pointed you out, but when she saw who you were with, she shuddered. “Look, it’s Y/N! And... Aonung.” She deadpanned.

Neteyam was paying little heed to what his sister was saying. No, he was paying close attention to how you were giggling at whatever Aonung said.

What the fuck?

Lo’ak nudged his shoulder. “Bro?”

Lo'ak waved his hand in front of Neteyam's face, which he instantly swept aside. What exactly did Aonung say to make you laugh that hard? You only laugh when you're with him!

Neteyam was practically seething, his fists clenched into balls, as Kiri and Lo'ak snickered to each other out of his earshot. If Kiri didn't know any better, she'd suppose Neteyam was thinking about the finest ways to strangle a (what might as well be) merman.

And truly, he was.

Lo’ak held his fist to his mouth to stifle his laughs. “Dude, are you jealous?”

Kiri placed a hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder, and looked away with a smile plastered to her face. “He totally is.”

Neteyam’s rage was now being directed towards his siblings. “What? No I’m not! Why would I be jealous?”

Lo’ak was still chortling when he pointed behind Neteyam, motioning that he should probably look. He turned around indignantly, and saw that Aonung had a hand on your arm. He was close. Too close for his liking.

And that look. Anyone could see that Aonung was flirting with you. He was maintaining direct eye contact with you, narrowing his gaze. He appeared to be listening carefully to what you were saying, but his smirk paired with his eyes passing over your lips indicated otherwise.

Neteyam just wanted to pummel his stupid, blue face in.

Kiri and Lo'ak burst out laughing as they witnessed Neteyam storm over to where the two of you were. He aggressively inserted his own hand where Aonung's own had originally been, shoving your body into his own by the shoulder. The unexpected intrusion caught you off guard.

“Oh! Neteyam!”

You beamed at his arrival right away, but Aonung frowned. Before you could enquire what Neteyam was doing, he stared daggers into Aonung's head, and hauled you away from him by your bicep. Aonung remained there stunned, staring at your back as you walked away.

“What the hell?”

Kiri and Lo'ak tripped over themselves on their way over to Aonung, howling with laughter, and Lo'ak smacked his shoulder in amusement.

“Sorry cuz, you never stood a chance!”

Aonung’s cheeks darkened deeply. He was thoroughly mortified; he had no idea you were and Neteyam were like that! (You’re not.)

...

Neteyam began to lose confidence throughout the walk once he had pulled you much further away. While you shouted at him to let you go, he inwardly cursed at himself, wondering why he had just done that.

Does he like you?

Your vehement protests about how Neteyam was causing you pain eventually ceased falling on deaf ears. His rage vanished when he realized he'd been treating you like a ragdoll for the entire walk, and he immediately felt horrible. He let go of your arm and buried his face in his hands, ashamed that he had done such a thing to you in the first place.

You rubbed your sore arm, and nudged his shoulder gently. “What’s wrong?”

He looked way too upset, and you rarely saw him like this, if ever.

“Why was Aonung looking at you like that?”

That struck you with irritation. “Are you serious? That’s what this is about?”

His eyes darkened at your words. How could it not be?

You started to raise your voice. “You cannot be for real. You’re just my friend, why are you being so overprotective? If Aonung likes me, that’s my business! Not yours!”

Neteyam snatched your wrist again, evidently upset by what you just uttered. He didn’t know what he was saying anymore. “The only person that can look at you like that is me!”

You went quiet for a time, then realization dawned on your features. “Hold up... do you like me?”

Suddenly, Neteyam’s gaze softened, and he could no longer be furious with you. “How could I not?”

He released your wrist, unsure of what to say next. When he noticed your prolonged silence, Neteyam whirled around, prepared to walk back to his home and cry his frustrations out. He was fighting back tears already; what was the point of telling you this anyway?

You gripped his shoulder and forced him to swivel around and face you. Neteyam could not cover his face, and he felt humiliated because he didn't know why he was acting in this manner. Why was he weeping over a silly look?

He was caught by surprise when you cupped his face in your hands, and wiped the stray tears away. Your irritation had completely dissipated. “You have nothing to be worried about.”

He sniffled. “Why?”

“Because I’ve liked you since forever, but I didn’t think you liked me back. There were so many mixed signals, and you never picked up on my hints, either!”

Neteyam was taken aback. He was at a loss for words.

You rolled your eyes. “Just kiss me, you big idiot.”

Your hand that was on his shoulder was now suddenly imprisoned in his grip, and he jerked you towards his body, lips crashing into yours. He pressed against you with ardor, as if you'd vanish if he didn't embrace you like you were the last Na'vi on Pandora.

Your nimble fingers found purchase in his braids. His hands slithered around your waist, drawing you flush against him, effectively deepening the kiss. He needed you so near that he could only sense your lips against his. When you would try and pull away, his desperate kisses would follow.

You feared Neteyam had forgotten you needed to breathe, because you had to roughly pull his head back by his braids to eventually get him to halt his feverish actions. The minimal bit of pigment on your lips had now smeared, a mark left by Neteyam that claimed you as his. Who the hell taught him to kiss like that?

As you both merely stared at each other, stunned, Neteyam spoke through labored breaths. “All mine?”

“I’m all yours.”

Bonus!

Lo'ak sipped his fruity iced drink, having witnessed the entire exchange from a distance. He patted Aonung's back.

“You wish that was you, huh?”

Aonung punched him.

[meowcatsposts]

Necklace [Ao'nung]

✎⁾⁾⁾ note: reader is metkayina & Ao'nung is probably OOC

Overview

Boy is jealous (not good at hiding it, either-)

Why? The Sully kids.

He has a necklace he wants to give you, but he just can't

You hissed in Ao’nung’s face–baring your teeth just a little bit–hoping he’d get the message. Your eyes burned. Your tail swished. The Sully kids looked at you in awe. How were you, a mere Metkayina, able to stand up against the Olo’eyktan’s son? 

Ao’nung and the rest of his gang remained silent–awestruck, even. No one dared to oppose him, really, let alone hiss in his face! You were a bold one, for sure, to do something like that. 

“Leave them alone,” you said. It struck ice into everyone’s hearts but you felt calm, unlike the blood roaring in your ears; perhaps it was Eywa who was soothing you. “We’re all equal. Get that into your thick skulls.”

From that day on, the Sully kids stuck to you like glue–even dragged you around so they wouldn’t get bullied.

Great timing. Absolutely perfect.

Ao’nung couldn’t shake off this…sting from earlier. He thought you’d react like him–not like his sister Tsireya. He thought you didn’t like outsiders; you even said you’d only accept a Metkayina mate! You and Tsireya were too warm to the Sully kids–who had five fingers, lanky blue bodies, and thin tails–helping them and cheering them on in the ocean. What were you–a freak, too? 

Ao’nung looked down at his hand. Resting on his palm was a necklace, hand-made by him–for you. He wove the cord by hand, always doubting if it would be too tight or too loose. He hand-picked every shell; they had to be the perfect size. He even waited until nighttime to pick out the ones that glowed the prettiest, the brightest. And the clasp–the hardest part. He hand-carved a small conch into a clasp, so you needn’t go through the trouble of tying the necklace. It took him hours to complete. Sometimes, his hands got so tired he had trouble feeling his fingers the next day. (But he’d brush it off; he was Tonowari and Ronal’s son, after all–the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik.)

Ao’nung’s blood boiled. To think that all his efforts would go to waste! 

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Tuktirey squealed. She latched onto your leg and gazed up at you with her gleaming, glowing eyes of childish glee. 

“What is it?” you asked, wondering what the youngest Sully kid wanted. Tuk was cute, always running around the marui and playing with the sea life. 

“Can you take me to the ilu again? Please?” she pleaded. It was almost every day she asked you to take her to feed the ilu, watch the ilu, or ride the ilu, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say “no” to that cute little face. 

Taking Tuk’s smaller hand into yours you replied, “Ok,” with a smile adorning your lips. 

Ao’nung gazed at you from afar, blood pumping hotly. His heart was beating fast, even he could tell. Like Tsireya, how were you able to treat the Sully kids so nicely, like they were Metkayina? He was supposed to be kind, respectful, but right now, he just couldn’t. Especially when you were being so cordial and smiley–even defended them! What were you thinking?

He saw you and the little Sully girl ride an ilu, giggling and laughing. And it wasn’t the first time, either. On other occasions he saw you mingling with Neteyam, Lo’ak, or Kiri, helping them with their breathing, ilu riding, diving…way more than necessary, in his opinion. Heck, you even touched them!

A burning scar lingered in Ao’nung’s mind. Your teeth, bared at him. Your eyes, boring through him. Him! Him! Not the outsiders! 

Ao’nung gripped the hilt of his fishing spear. Hard. So hard until his knuckles turned bluish-white.

You, Ao’nung, Rotxo, and other young Metkayina were to fish along the reefs, so you left Tuk under Kiri’s care. The little one would be safe with Kiri, you knew.

“Thank you,” the older Sully girl said, bobbing in the water with Tuk. 

The water, glistening off your skin. The sun, shining on your hair and your eyes, lighting them up like halos. The ocean, hugging and caressing your body that cut through the gentle waves so fluidly.

“Ao’nung,” Rotxo whispered, throwing glances your way; he easily guessed what his friend was thinking. “Your fish swam away.”

Seeing that his prize was nowhere to be found, Ao’nung clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing in disgust. He was supposed to be a skilled hunter and diver for his age–not staring at some freak-lover.

“You caught enough, though,” Rotxo added quickly, hoping to quell his friend’s frustration. It seeped through his entire being, Rotxo could tell, and it unnerved him. Why was Ao’nung acting so prickly?

“You good?” Rotxo asked, looking into Ao’nung’s eyes. They’ve been cloudy for the past few days. 

“I’m fine,” Ao’nung replied curtly. He didn’t dare look into Rotxo’s eyes. Or else he’d crumble and tell him everything. 

Everyone had returned from fishing, and you were nowhere to be seen–probably with the Sully kids again. That thought alone had Ao’nung’s blood boiling mildly.

Rotxo snorted and rolled his eyes. Ao’nung wasn’t fine, duh. 

Ao’nung snapped, and he snarled, “What?” 

“Just making sure you’re not going to pick a fight with Lo’ak again,” Rotxo teased. After a short, uncomfortable silence he whispered, “You know you can tell me.”

Ao’nung just grunted. 

“It’s about (Y/N), isn’t it?” Seeing that his friend’s ears perked up a little, Rotxo continued, “Just give your gift. At least you’ll be able to confess.”

At first you thought Ao’nung gave it to the wrong person, but it wasn’t so. His eyes were way too shy, way too genuine. They were soft, reflecting the moonlight, not hard like obsidian. And they darted around like fish.

A necklace, handmade, lay in your palms. Woven delicately into the cord were several small shells, each placed an equal distance from each other. In the day they would reflect the sunlight, glimmering softly. At night they would glow prettily, almost like the sky–purple, blue, a tinge of pink. At the end of the necklace was a clasp, carved out of a conch. Speckles of pink dotted the glossy ivory. You remained silent the whole time, out of words; words just couldn’t express the feelings swirling in your heart. 

Ao’nung, on the other hand, was growing agitated, quietly wondering if you’d reject his gift. His eyes flitted from your wide ones to the necklace as he fought the urge to jump into the ocean. (The necklace took him ages to craft, though, so he prayed to Eywa you’d accept it with a smile, at least.) 

Finally cutting the thick silence he asked bitterly, “What, you hate it?” The poor boy tried to hide the hurt gurgling in his stomach. “I can take it back–”

Before Ao’nung could snatch the piece of jewelry from your hands you pulled it back to your chest, replying with a defiant, “No!”

“What?” Ao’nung’s ears flattened slightly; he was confused. “Then why were you quiet?”

“I…I like it,” you said shyly–so softly that Ao’nung doubted his ears. “I like it a lot…I just don’t know what to say.” After a brief pause you found the words you were searching for, and gazed earnestly into Ao’nung’s eyes. “It’s beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Thank you.”

You accepted his gift! Bitter feelings washed away, Ao’nung nearly melted right then and there. He thought he could get sucked into those sweet eyes of yours. 

“...Here,” he mumbled. “I’ll help you put it on.”

Ao’nung, with a gentleness that even he was surprised at, parted your hair. It was his first time touching you like this, so tenderly, so affectionately. With trembling fingers he brought the cord around your neck, and clicked the clasp shut. After huffing (more out of stress-relief than frustration), he stood in front of you and eyed the necklace that rested beautifully against your collarbones. Then, a beaming, prideful smile creeped up his lips.

It fit perfectly.

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