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burning-midnight · 1 year

Note

Alright but what if your an artist of the clan! But you have like a secret stash of naughty drawings and one of the guys (can be anyone honestly) found it and was either like these are good or they’re like ohh so would you be down to try this position? AHHH ITS 5AM AND I NEED TO SEE THIS IDEA OUT

Work of art

Adult!Neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, thigh riding, praise kink, p in v, creampie

Notes: you guys are literally so creative omg thanks for this request I loved that idea!! Also I hope it’s fine that I’ve picked Neteyam for this? ☺️ (post is kinda glitching sorry I can’t fix it)

The omatikaya had many forms of art. Your clan had good singers, skillful weavers and wonderful dancers. And you were an artist, a painter. One of the rarest forms of art that the omatikaya practiced. The human scientists had introduced you to something they called pen and paper a few years ago and you couldn’t stop drawing ever since. Your favorite thing to draw were people, may it be humans or Na‘vi. You practiced drawing the human anatomy as often as possible, occasionally you even stole some of Norms biology books to do so.

But your favorite art reference when it came to drawing your own people, was Neteyam. The olo’eyktan’s oldest son and one of your closest friends. And the greatest work of art you knew. You had this little, secret crush on him, but in order not to put your friendship at risk, you never acted upon it. All you had were your little daydreams and fantasies and the drawings you made of him– they were obviously only meant to help you get better at anatomy and nothing else!

Neteyam often spent time with you when you were drawing. Most of the time, he was just laying beside you, taking a quick nap between his chores and duties. Sometimes he would just silently watch you, mesmerized by your talent. On other days, you could barely focus on drawing because the both of you were just too lost in a deep conversation about whatever topic you landed on today.

Today was no different.

"Tey, could you hand me another piece of paper please?" Not even glancing up from your current drawing, you point to the shoulder bag that was laying against a tree.

"Sure", Neteyam smiles, placing your legs, that were lazily swung over his own, to the ground before he raises to his feet and walks over to where you had pointed. Your bag was, as usual, full of non-essential stuff that made it hard to find literally anything in it. Neteyam rolls his eyes as he skips through several books, that you had once again only "borrowed" from the humans (without them knowing, of course), a few colored pencils and a handful of notebooks in various sizes. He glances over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the paper size that you would probably need and grabs the first notebook that was similar in size. It had a small heart craved into the front of its leather cover and given that he had never seen this one before, he only guessed that it must be a new one.

Knowing that most most of your notebooks were already full, he flips it open and searches for a blank page. Of course this one was filled to the brim with drawings, but these were… different kind of drawings, compared to the ones you usually made. Neteyam raises a brow as he examines them carefully, one in particular, before he turns back to you.

"Thats an… odd position. Did you learn that from the humans?" Neteyam flips the notebook for you to see and immediately, all color drains from your face.

The drawing he was showing you was one of your favorites and it was more than just obvious, that what you drew on those pages was supposed to be you and him….

"N-Neteyam!", you squeak and immediately stumble to your feet, "You weren’t supposed to see that, oh great mother—" You attempt to pry the notebook from his hands, but Neteyam only chuckles. He’s holding it over his head, too far for you to reach even as you stand on your very tip toes.

"It’s uhm, I uh– I just used it for anatomy practice, you know, it’s easier if you have a reference and you, uhm, you just happen to be there all the time so it was easier for me to draw you and, and—"

Neteyam grins as you struggle to explain yourself, all flustered and face bright red while he still holds the drawing out of your reach. He secretly enjoys the feeling of your soft hands clawing to his arms and how you unintentionally press yourself against him, because you try with all your might to get that damn book back.

"So you’re not up to try it?", he tilts his head, catching you off guard and you freeze.

"E-Excuse me?" You blink at him, internally questioning if you had heard him right. Finally, he lowers his arm, but all intentions to get your notebook back had left your mind completely.

"I said…", Neteyam bends forward, until his face is just inches from yours, "do you want to try that with me?"

You swallow thickly, your eyes narrowing as if trying to read him, to see if he was just joking. There was a smile spreading on his lips, almost innocently, as if he didn’t just suggest something so filthy that it made your belly tingle.

"I figured it could help you with your art, you know, if you didn’t have to use your imagination anymore", he explains nonchalant. You had to swallow down the next stupid thing that crossed your mind, ready to be spoken out, which was something along the lines of 'please fuck my brains out right now.' But instead, all that really came out was some sort of whimper, an almost pathetic and painfully embarrassing sound that even you weren’t sure how to describe.

Instead of answering him, you just sort of stood there. Staring up at him with wide eyes. Hands clenching into weak fists on your sides, because you really wanted to move them, touch him, respond in any way that didn’t embarrass you further because yes, you absolutely wanted to do that— but you just didn't have the brain capacity to tell him. Neteyam must have caught on on that, because you saw the little curl of a smirk pull at the corner of his lip and then he chuckled, "You’re so adorable."

For a moment, you think that he was actually just joking. That he had successfully managed to make a fool out of you, but then his hand finds the back of your head and he pulls you into a kiss. His tongue shot out immediately, loving the way you opened up for him and you let your eyes flutter closed.

"Okay, let’s see…", Neteyam murmurs once he breaks the kiss and then he sets the book down for both of you to see. For a moment, he pretends to study your drawing, pretends to think about what the first step to lead to this might be as if it wasn’t so obvious already and it makes you squirm in embarrassment. "I think we need to get you all nice and wet first", his voice is low and hot in your ear. You can’t help the very audible gulp that comes out of you when your eyes met his again, dark with want and mischief, almost as if he'd been planning to do this.

Neteyam leans over to dispense wet kisses up your exposed shoulder, until he reaches your throat. He covers your skin in dark, purple marks as he sucks and kisses and bites down softly, making you whimper. His hands slowly travel south, getting hold of your delicate wrists on his way and then he guides them to your loincloth. "Undress yourself for me", Neteyam tells you and your quick to obey, untying the piece of clothing and discarding it to somewhere on the ground. "Good girl", he praises and then wedges one of his thick thighs right in between yours, his hands now holding your hips.

His grip on you was firm, solidly guiding. You could feel the strength of his hands against your flesh, not really rough, but not exactly gentle either. He positioned you to settle on his thigh before he rocks your hips back and forth. You gasp as your core makes contact with his warm skin, the muscles of thigh creating enough friction against your clit to make you moan.

You whimper softly, the tips of your ears burning with an intense heat as you stare up at him through lidded eyes. You can feel the heat pooling rapidly in the pit of your stomach, heart beating hard against your ribs and pounding loudly in your ears as your breaths come out in short, rough pants.

Neteyam experiments with different paces and pressures, trying to figure out the best way to make you feel good and it doesn’t take very long to find out what works best for you. Your hips are rocking against his thigh, and he breaks the kiss he had just captured you in, with a muted gasp and a thin, glistening strand of saliva that connects your lips.

You were growing wetter by the second, so much so that a wet patch was beginning to form on his skin.

"You're dripping all over my thigh,” Neteyam notes amused and you shamefully try to hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. Every rock of your hips was bringing you a jolt of pleasure. It felt so euphoric that you find yourself never wanting it to end. Everything‘s being stimulated with each buck of your hips and small shivers shot up your spine every time you brush your clit against his muscles.

"Hmm, I think you’re wet enough now", Neteyam hums softly as he brings your hips to an abrupt halt, causing a whine to erupt from you. He takes another glance to the piece of paper laying right next to you both, as if he was reading an instruction. Then he swiftly turns you around so your back is flush with his chest, slightly arched and with your ass pressing into his crotch. You could feel his hard erection already pressing against your bottom and it made you wonder if you were really already so far gone, that you hadn’t even realized that he had pulled his own loincloth off too.

One of his hands snakes up your front and closes itself briefly around your throat, mirroring the position of your drawing. "This what you had in mind, pretty girl?", he whispers against the shell of your ear, right before he pushes the thick head of his cock between your folds. His free hand sets on your hip, holding you in place when his tip finally catches on your entrance and he pushes himself inside. "Fuck, yes", you breathe out and nod, earning a chuckle from him. You can feel the muscles in his arms tense, groaning when his pelvis was flush with your soft bottom and he was fully settled inside the tight heat of your cunt. You let out a long, uninterrupted moan at the full feeling of how deep he was.

Your hands reach back to steady yourself on his hips, but he’s quick to snatch them. He bends your arms to let them rest in the arch of your back, holding them together with his big hand. Now it was truly like the most detailed copy of the drawing that you made. The position you were in, it was straight out of your imagination, out of every wet dream that you ever had about this moment and then bought to paper by you, not long ago.

Neteyams pace is slow at first. Somewhat in a teasing way, but mostly to let you adjust to him. You were tight, your walls were heavenly, warm and constricting him and getting even tighter when he increased his pace. In no time, you were all but melting in his hold, moaning out nonsense that was music to his ears.

"Just as tight as I imagined. Oh, great mother– I won’t last if you keep squeezing me like that." Neteyam was moving even faster now and you were moaning, hot and loud, with your head rolled back in the crook of his neck.

It was the perfect position for him to let his tongue dart out and lick at the corner of your lips, to which you quickly turned your head and let him capture your mouth in yet another heated kiss.

He pounded into you then, using your arms as leverage as he thrusts his hips up and into you, the head of his cock rapidly hitting your g-spot in the process. Your jaw dropped and your fists clenched, but oh, that wasn't all that was clenching. Your breathing turned needy and higher pitched, struggling to keep steady as he was driving you over the edge faster than you could probably even process it.

"Tey", you whined the sweet nickname that was reserved for you and only you to use, "Tey, I‘m— I‘m gonna cum!"

"Be a good girl and squeeze my cock when you do, yeah? I want to– fuck, I want to feel you cum around me", he groans, sweating from his own exertion as he pushed right into your sweet spot. And who were you to deny him? You did as you were told, flexing your lower abdomen to squeeze the cock that was roughly thrusting in and out of your fluttering walls.

Neteyams head fell back at the sweet, savory feeling of your tightness, so wet that there was hardly any resistance at all as you finally reach your high. "That’s it, you look so pretty when you cum. Such a good girl for me", he breathes as you choke on a moan.

You keep flexing your inner walls as best as you can, until you feel him tremble with the change. Neteyam moans and it’s the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard and then his movements become jerky and you know he’s about to come. You try your best to keep your eyes open, turning your head slightly to not miss the look on his face when he does. His mouth is slightly agape, eyes half lidded as they land on yours and with one last thrust he stills inside you. His cum is hot and sticky and you can feel it fill you.

Neteyams hands finally leave your arms and they’re aching from the weird position they were in the whole time, but you’re quick to ignore the pain when his lips land on yours again. Your familiar with his kisses by now, relishing in the way he still kisses you so hot and open mouthed and wet, even after he just came.

Your panting heavily when you break the kiss to breathe and immediately, Neteyam lowers his head to continue with his very own work of art, that he had left on your throat earlier. Small love bites and hickeys were already turning purple on your pretty blue skin, making you especially sensitive there and a small gasp escapes your lips.

"Was that the reference you needed, my sweet girl?" He asks against your throat before placing another kiss there.

"Hmh yes", you hum, a small smile appearing on your lips as you let out a little chuckle.

"Good. Now show me what else you got in that little notebook. I’ve got plenty of time today."

"Hmh yes," You hum, a small smile appearing on your lips as you let out a little chuckle.

"Good. Now show me what else you got in that little notebook. I’ve got plenty of time today."

"Good. Now show me what else you’ve got in that little notebook. I’ve got plenty of time today."

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burning-midnight · 1 year

Text

— fly (me to your heart) •°. *࿐

pairing: Neteyam x f!reader, platonic!Lo'ak x reader length: 5.1k words ✧ genre: fluff, romance, slight angst warnings: mild language. summary: Lo'ak wonders if Neteyam knows that he flies the highest when he is with you. tags — childhood friends to lovers, reader is half omatikayan and half tawkami, kid fic (at the beginning), does not follow the events of atwow, sully fam stays at high camp and their lives continue peacefully (as they should be), golden child neteyam + ultimate middle child lo'ak + you = an inseparable lil trio, mostly bc kiri is off doing her own thing, grandma mo'at makes some appearances. a/n. that one scene where tuk is playing with the plants in the forest with the biggest smile on her face. that got me picturing how happy younger neteyam would look, exploring the wonders of pandoran forest, free of any responsibility and fear. could NOT get that image out of my mind. so here we are ♡

Neteyam is five years old when he learns the hard way that bringing his dad’s name into arguments does not always guarantee victory. Sure, his dad was toruk makto. He doesn’t even know what those words necessarily mean, but he knows that everyone in the village thinks his dad is the most powerful na’vi.

“You can’t fly, nobody can!”

“Except toruk makto, he is the only one who can fly.”

“I bet you can’t fly even though your dad is toruk makto!”

“Well, my daddy can fly, so I can fly too, just watch!”

He’s five years old with blood on his knees, and tears in his eyes and the horrible realization that, maybe, he can’t fly even though his mommy said he could do anything if he tried hard enough.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

Neteyam looks up through tear blurred eyes and sees a girl, not much taller than himself looking down at him worriedly. Before he knows it, there’s a huge leaf being used to wipe away the blood from his scraped knees and elbows (and nose too, apparently) with little care for how much pressure is being applied. The boys that encouraged him to "fly" are long gone, leaving him on the ground bloody and just a little upset with this new stranger that Neteyam wants to call friend.

“I’m—” He sniffs back a horrible mixture of blood and tears as he tries not to bawl something terrible. “I’m okay. Just wanted to fly but—“

It’s at that, the realization that he cannot actually fly like he thinks his dad can, despite his greatest attempt, that finally makes the torrent of tears tumble from his eyes. The bruises and cuts are nothing compared to the crushing realization that sometimes there are things that he can’t do. It’s a messy and ugly cry, and Neteyam is pretty sure that there is more snot and blood on his face than there is anything else, but it doesn’t matter to him at that point in time. All that matters is reality taking hold and crushing a childish, but very true, dream.

“That’s okay, my mama said we’re all good at something, maybe you just have to find what you’re good at.”

They are wise words for someone so young, but Neteyam likes how friendly you sound, even if he doesn’t quite understand what it is that you were saying.

You stay with him on the ground, holding the dapophet leaf against the wound on his knees with each of your hands and smile on your face. You are coaxing him gently and trying to make him laugh by telling him the story of the first time you fell from a tree as well, but Neteyam is too distraught to really remember it. He enjoys the soothing feeling of your palm on the leaf as it works its magic, and it nearly has him quieted down by the time his mom comes to bundle him up with warm hugs and quiet words of question.

His last sight of you is of you sneaking off into the bushes, mumbling something about washing his blood off your hands by the river, as he is carried away in his mom's arms.

Neteyam is five years old when he meets you for the first time, but he doesn’t even know what your name is.

—

He thinks he will catch you around, however as it turns out, the last time he would see you is the morning of the next day when your mother hauled you up onto her ikran. He remembers thinking it's strange how there were so many people gathered by the edge of the cave as he ran up to the crowd. Making his way to the front, he notices your hair—your face! and decides to join in with the others to wave goodbye to you (if a goodbye can count as a snot-faced child standing on the tip of his toes in order to appear taller so you'd notice him amongst the crowd. he isn’t sure if you saw him, but he can swear with his whole heart that your smile was directed to him).

He soon forgets about broken skin and blood on his teeth, though your kindness lingers in his memory for some time.

He still dreams of flying, every night. Draws pictures and tells his grandma about how he will one day have wings so that he doesn’t fall. “Like an ikran!” He says, cheerfully, chubby fingers pointing at his mom and her banshee, soaring about the sky that they can see from the outer edge of the high camp.

He tells Lo'ak about his dream, almost expecting the younger boy to tell him that there is no way to fly without an ikran, but his brother just thinks about it for a moment, face serious, before he looks at Neteyam very seriously and tells him that, when he does learn to fly, he has to teach Lo'ak because he would very much like to fly as well. They could go on their own adventures together.

Neteyam’s dreams of flying are crushed when, one day, sitting next to his grandma, his dad and some adults come in carrying a boy a few years older than him, injured and screaming in pain. It turns out he has failed his Iknimaya and plunged down into the heavy mist of Hallelujah Mountains. Lucky for him, he landed on one of the floating mountains, narrowly escaping death with some broken ribs, it seems.

The injured boy’s guttural screams of pain and agony is enough to scare him into contemplating his dream to fly. He crawls out of the tent and finds his brother, eyes wide, and fearfully explains that flying may not be such a good idea after all.

—

“My name is (y/n). What’s yours?”

They are sitting outside, laying on their backs under the tree and hiding from the warm summer sun when a shadow passes over them. Lo'ak immediately grumbles about it, but they both sit up in alarm, confused look on their faces. You are standing before them and Neteyam swears he has met you somewhere before.

“Um, Neteyam.” He pauses a moment, hand shading his eyes to get a better look at you. You’re tiny and almost fragile looking, eyes wide and cheerful as you hold out a hand to them. Neteyam takes it while nodding his head towards Lo'ak who is now standing up on the grass, eyeing you curiously. “That’s Lo'ak, he’s my brother.”

“I thought we could be friends, you look like you're around the same age as me.”

“No way, cuz you're a lot shorter than us.”

Neteyam kicks Lo'ak’s leg, a scowl on his face. The furrow of your brows makes him annoyed at his brother for some reason, he is only ten and he is quite sure no one should be that pretty. “ Don’t mind him, he’s the shortest in our family anyway.”

“Am not! Kiri’s hair is just poofy on top!” Lo’ak gestured to the top of his head before turning to you to explain, “Kiri is our sister, who is the same height as me.”

That makes you laugh, your whole face lighting up in a way that has Neteyam momentarily mesmerized. Yup, no one should be that pretty.

“I believe you,” you reassured the younger boy, seeing how he looks so defensive. “Anyways, you guys have the best place to hide from the sun.” There is that smile again, too bright and Neteyam has a trickle of memory but he can’t catch it fast enough, so he just shifts to make space for you and motions to the newly opened patch of shadow to you.

He offers you a smile of his own. “There is room for one more here.” He ignores the snicker from Lo'ak (the one that he got when trouble was going to abound) and instead focuses on the thank you and the smile from you as you plop yourself down to the grass. You stay there, sprawled on the ground under the tree, for the better part of the day. You are the same age as Lo’ak, a year younger than Neteyam. Your mother is of the Omatikaya people just like they are and your father is a young Olo’eyktan from the Tawkami Clan. You were born and raised in Greenhome, a village deep in the Pandoran jungle. Your father is no longer... (you trail off and your tone gets quite hushed there, and Neteyam knows well enough to leave that alone for now) so your mother brought you and moved back here.

By the end of the conversation, Neteyam has decided that you are going to be their new best friend, because he and Lo'ak are a packaged deal, and the younger one doesn’t fight it either (he seems to have fairly warmed up to you and your inviting smile, or rather, he is simply happy to have someone else around them who is shorter than him, for once). Besides, he knows you’ll get along well with Kiri. The more the merrier, right?

When you walk past their grandma’s tent later that night, the tsahik is surprised by the joyful shouts from Lo'ak and Neteyam, who both normally stick to the boys in the clan, barely interacting with other girls their age. She doesn't find it in herself to be annoyed at your bright smile that greets the shouts. She just hushes the boys and motions for them to keep eating, otherwise the food is gonna get cold and yes, yes you are allowed to join them for dinner tomorrow if your mother allows you to, now please get back to eating.

Neteyam doesn’t tell you about his dreams of flying, not yet, but he watches you move across the forest with a sense of wonder because, if anyone could fly, it is you.

—

The three of you become inseparable. You meet up with them almost every other day, whether it be exploring around the village or to play around in the science shack. Even when you quickly become friends with some older teenagers (Neteyam is not jealous of how Tarsem is always acting like your guardian and picking you up, nestling you on his shoulders without breaking a sweat, or how easily Spider makes you laugh. Nope, not even a little bit), you still see each other several times a week.

You play and study together. But Neteyam learns everything with a passion that nearly blinds anyone who sees it. The elders praise him for his skills and propose to his dad that he should start his training as soon as possible.

So when he breaks the record for the fastest time and the youngest hunter to complete Iknimaya, no one is at all surprised. What does surprise you, is his constant refusal to go ikran riding with the other hunter trainees every single time they ask him to. He simply smiles and says thank you, but he wants to hang out with you as his training lessons have left him with less time to spend with you, his best friend (despite you insisting that he go, so that he can be closer with the other trainees and form the friendship that is actually worth his time) and he is more than okay with that.

You call him a skxawng, but are secretly relieved because you are not sure what you would have done without the older Sully around. You still spend your days with Lo'ak, and Spider has been joining you guys increasingly frequently. With Neteyam not being around as much as he used to, Lo'ak gets you in trouble more than ever, especially with the human boy around. Those two can talk you into doing anything. Mostly though, it's because you have to keep your life amusing from the boredom that follows Neteyam's absence.

You wonder if you cross his mind. Ah, he must be too excited about training that you are probably forgotten by now.

For him, even just seeing you and having a quick ‘good luck’ whispered to him in the morning before his training session seems to be enough to get him through the day. And they can be long days indeed.

—

It is Lo'ak who starts to notice it first, the way that you and Neteyam circle each other like a star and a planet. He briefly wonders who is which and voices it out to Kiri, but she tells him it is pointless, and what is really important is the way you both light up around each other. The way the two of you seem to move together so easily and completely.

It is in the forest where you and Neteyam seem to come alive though. You compete, always racing each other—in a friendly way, with laughter and lighthearted teasing. What you don’t notice is that Neteyam likes to purposely fall behind sometimes, just to take in the sight of you in his young, curious eyes.

You are a natural in the rainforest, fluid limbs and inherent grace that reminds him of waves; something delicate yet full of vigor at the same time. All cresting water and powerful crash in the midst of something so calm. Whereas Neteyam is all strong steps and confidence in his beats, power and elegance as he brings so much life in his movements.

Lo'ak sometimes sits back and watches with amusement as his brother and best friend leap through the branches, synchronized footsteps like bass thrumming in the heart of the forest.

He remembers Neteyam telling him, when they were little, that he always wanted to fly. He wonders if Neteyam knows that he achieves that, fights against the gravity pulling them down, and achieves true flight in his happiness the most when he is with you.

He never mentions it to you, just lets the two of you be, literally, around each other. It’s not the wonder of the forest that is responsible for the change in dynamic between you and Neteyam like Kiri believes, because Lo'ak starts to notice it everywhere, like during your weekly dinner with the Sullys (how quickly Neteyam stands up to fetch you a cup of water when you choke on a piece of food, how you lean into his touch as he brings the cup to your mouth while rubbing your back to soothe your sputtering cough) and even in the science shack (the most unromantic place in the world, Lo’ak rolls his eyes). Sometimes he isn’t sure how neither of you have ever noticed it. How could you not feel a pull like that?

—

Sometimes Lo'ak wonders if his brother is a complete skxawng.

Actually, he doesn’t wonder, he knows. Because there is no way that two people so completely, obviously, and wholly enraptured with one another could possibly be so blind to each other’s feelings. And to their own, for that matter. It simply is not rationally possible.

“Where are you going with Spider?”

You blink and stare somewhat owlishly at Neteyam. “Um, we're going to the Utral Aymokriyä?”

The look on Neteyam’s face lets it be known exactly what he thinks of that plan of action. You cannot possibly be serious right now. Have you not spent enough time with Spider? That boy is always with you and Lo'ak whenever he is gone for training, already well on his way in replacing his spot in your little trio. Are you going to replace him with Spider too?

He walks up to you and stops right in front of your face, all the while staring down at you incredulously. “But Spider doesn’t even have a kuru.”

Lo'ak rolls his eyes and turns back to his book. Knowing his older brother, instead of being honest about his jealousy, Neteyam is going to make it all about the human boy’s lack of neural queue. He really wishes that he’s not here right now.

“It doesn’t matter! Spider said he’s happy to keep me company,” It is almost comical how small your voice gets when faced with a disapproving Neteyam, but there is still a defiance in you, a fire that is not about to be cowed by a furrowed brow and some anger. “Besides, you went there with Ro’ate last week!”

“That was different! That was a date!”

Lo'ak snorts and looks up just in time to see your eyes widen and you fidget somewhat uncomfortably. What does the skxawng think he's doing by saying that?

Adding fuel to the fire, that's what.

Neteyam is fifteen years old when he finds out what jealousy is, the dark yet haunting rage that consumes him for reasons that, at this point in time, he does not understand. He is fifteen years old when he has his first fight with you, one that lasts two weeks and makes everyone miserable (and the coldness doesn’t fade until nearly a month later, after he overheard you turning down a random Omatikayan boy’s invitation to go ikran riding together).

Neteyam is fifteen years old when he discovers that he might be better at falling than at flying, but he is too young to really understand what it could mean.

—

“You know, when I was five, my mom told me I could do anything I wanted to.”

You make a noise in the back of your throat to let Neteyam know you are indeed listening, eyes still on the sky, body warm next to his as the two of you lay on top of one of the floating mountains nearing eclipse.

You are seventeen and eighteen respectively, and it is time for you to return to Greenhome. Your grandparents have been asking for your presence for you are nearing the age of adulthood. Neteyam doesn’t really know what to do about it. It’s been forever since he has been with you (at least, to him it feels that way even if it has only been eight years) and he doesn’t know how he and Lo'ak are going to cope. Spider too, and Kiri and Tuk, for that matter. Or maybe it’s just him that feels like there is a hole opening up in his chest every time he thinks about your departure.

It feels like he's a toddler all over again, falling to the pull of gravity and knowing, mid-fall, that it is going to hurt like hell when he hits the ground.

And, like when he was five, Neteyam doesn’t really care until he realizes that he can’t really fight this force and, unlike what his mom said, he really couldn’t do anything he wanted to. He couldn’t figure out the tightness in his chest, or the fact that you are leaving, going farther away than you ever had in all your years together, couldn’t—

He must have been quiet for too long, because you finally turned your gaze from the sky to look at him, one eyebrow raised as if to prompt the other.

Neteyam finds it funny that he has known you for this long and has never told you his childhood dream. He laughs and sits up, and after catching a glimpse of your wide eyes questioning him, he tries his best to not look at you.

“You know what I always wanted to do?”

You pretend to think. “Be the best warrior in the clan?”

Neteyam shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Nah,” He tilts his head back to look at cotton candy colored sky, heart heavily lodged in his throat for reasons he can’t quite fathom. “I wanted to be able to fly.”

—

You leave with promises to come back and visit. And you are good with keeping your word, you visit them a lot, though not as often as Neteyam would like you to. Because whenever you came to visit, you are busy showing Lo’ak the special toys and weapons you brought with you, or you are too preoccupied with showing Kiri the different medicines and plants you had to learn during your lessons with the Tsahik of the Tawkami Clan (one who happens to be your grandmother, coincidentally. She is one gentle yet very fierce old lady).

Unbeknownst to Neteyam, you are most excited to see him, wanting nothing more than to share stories of your life at your other home, to tell him all about the wonders of Greenhome because oh, how much you wish he could come with you to see it for himself.

It doesn’t stop Neteyam from pulling away little by little, doesn’t stop him from fighting the force of gravity for a bit longer, just because he can. Because he wants to delay the pain of hitting concrete a bit longer.

He fails as he dismounts his ikran one day, after a hunting session with his dad that he set up on purpose in order to avoid seeing you one more time, only to see Lo'ak leaning against his own ikran, a scowl on his face.

Lo'ak walks up to him, just in time to hear the last part of their dad’s sentence: “... been distracted today. Dismissed.” The Olo'eyktan, upon walking away, turns around to yell to his sons, “And get ready for dinner!”

Lo’ak walks beside Neteyam without a word, but continues to scowl at his older brother as he puts his hunting weapons away. It is uncharacteristic of him to not make any snide remarks that it is making latter uncomfortable, for the silence is a little too loud. He finally faces the other and it takes everything in him to not roll his eyes, because he just knows that Lo’ak is up to something.

“What?”

Lo'ak scoffs. “Don’t give me that bullshit, you know what. Why are you doing this to her?”

Neteyam is silent, refusing to acknowledge that he even knows what Lo'ak is even talking about, despite it being on his mind since forever. He decides to feign confusion and puts on a puzzled face before shaking his head and trying to walk away.

He is stopped by a hand, stronger than he is expecting on his shoulder. “You're being a dick and you know it.” Lo'ak opens his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue, but he stops himself at the last second.

“Have you seen Neteyam anywhere?” you asked Lo’ak, breath short and puffy, an indication that you had been running around in a rush. And indeed you were, you had been all over the place in search for one boy in particular. You had not seen your 8-foot-tall best friend at all for the past several times you went back to High Camp to visit.

“Dad took him out to go hunting,” Lo’ak shrugged. The disappointed look on your face did not go unnoticed by the young boy. “Dude, you have the worst sense of timing to come visit.” he joked, an attempt to cheer you up a little. You laughed.

“It’s fine. Dealing with one Sully boy is already too much work for me anyway!”

“Bro what’s that supposed to mean?!”

He knew it was not a coincidence that his brother had been gone for nearly the entire day. The first time it happened? Sure, it was perfectly understandable given who their dad is and his strict training sessions. The second time around? Lo’ak’s suspicion started to grow, especially since they had just gone hunting the day before. This time? He was pretty sure he literally overheard Neteyam begging their dad to take him hunting further out from the Hallelujah Mountains.

Lo’ak internally sighed, praying to Eywa for Neteyam to get his ass back to the village as fast as possible before he hears it from Lo’ak himself. “They’ll be back soon though, don’t worry! You’ll get to see him today.”

You shook your head, “Maybe next time, I have to be back before eclipse.” Though the sadness that stemmed from your longing for Neteyam lingered, you were overtaken by the fear of getting home late. The thought of disobeying your grandmother’s stern words—you shuddered. You dare not risk arriving home late, for the consequence was that you would not be allowed to visit at all. And you absolutely had to be back for another visit, perhaps you would get to see Neteyam the next time you come.

Neteyam is unconsciously frowning, trying to get his wits together when Lo'ak’s words stop him cold.

“You do not fly as high without her, skxawng.”

Neteyam is eighteen and does not know reality could hurt this much without blood on his body.

—

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Neteyam is cornered, stuck in the confines of his tent (his bedroom, as he calls it), covered in sweat and bruises (he curses that his mom just led you here without question. so this is why she asked where he was and for him to get home immediately. he wanted to punch himself in the face for being so oblivious). She must’ve told you exactly where to go to find him as he throws himself into fishing to forget about your breathtaking smile and beautiful eyes.

He has not forgotten that you are back for a visit. Rather, he does not see a reason to lie to his mom of his whereabouts. He has been careful this time, no more training with dad as both the said man and his skxawng of a brother has now figured out that he is only doing so to run away from you.

He doesn’t want to answer your question, so he doesn’t. He sighs heavily and turns away from you, the perfect picture of his stubbornness that has you cracking a small grin.

At least certain things never change.

After a moment of silence you sit yourself in front of Neteyam and look more defeated than he has ever seen. It makes his chest tighten painfully, but this time he knows why; and it makes him feel even worse.

Neteyam is nearly nineteen when he admits to himself that he is in love with you, his best friend, and has been for far too long and it hurts because he doesn’t have words and doesn’t think he deserves you and doesn’t—

“You know, when I was really young, there is this little kid that I remember meeting,” You are not looking at him, instead you are focused on a photograph of you, Neteyam and Lo’ak, teeth blinding through smiles that are as wide as they can be, as the three of you struggle to hold a really big fish with your small hands. You remember that day like no other, Jake had taken you and his sons to the river and Neteyam caught a fish on his first try.

Neteyam, the Mighty Fisherman.

Neteyam, who excels in everything he does.

Neteyam, the golden child, who easily succeeds at doing just about anything.

“He was pretty banged up, blood everywhere because he tried to fly,” You try to stifle a laugh. “I thought he looked oddly strong, standing there covered in blood and trying not to cry. I helped him, got in trouble because I got blood everywhere on me and my mother got so worried, but—“

Neteyam feels like he can’t breathe, memories bubbling up of big eyes and a soft presence.

“He told me he wanted to fly.”

You finally look up then, a dreamy smile on your face courtesy of the sweet memories as you turn to face him. “I told you that you were good at something, remember?”

There are no words, so the only thing Neteyam can do is to settle with a nod, lump in his throat.

“Turns out you’re good at everything. I just… I just didn’t think you’d be good at making me—”

“I love you.”

It comes out of nowhere, spilling out of Neteyam’s mouth before you can finish whatever it is that you are saying. And he doesn’t know why he says it then, why he waits until you have started to drift apart before he tries to fix it. Maybe because he just realized it himself, realized that sometimes there is something more painful than hitting the ground. And that was hitting the ground all alone.

Then again, maybe he has already reached that point. He has inevitably crashed to the ground head first and it is painful.

When Neteyam looks up, he doesn’t know what to expect. You look stunned, mouth still open and eyes wide. It takes a moment for you to even blink, as he can see that you are processing his words. And you are taking forever—how hard is it to understand three simple words? He knows that you know what the words mean. His dad tells his mom those very same words all the time. It’s a phrase from the sky people, is what Neteyam was told, and it holds a great significance about your feelings for another person.

The smallest of smiles tugs on the side of your mouth.

“What do you mean, Neteyam?”

He sighs heavily and shakes his head. This is the point of no return, he realizes. He will have to try his best to explain what he means, make you understand that he is in—

“love, I mean uh,” Dammit, why is his brain and his mouth not cooperating right now? “With you, I just can’t. You make it hard for me to— you just—“

You laugh, light and free like heavenly bells ringing that makes Neteyam’s cheeks heat up and stomach churn. But if he thinks that is thrilling, like the feeling before gravity takes hold, it is nothing compared to the feeling when your lips crash into his, laughter smothered between the two of you.

It’s awkward and his lips are chapped and rough, and neither of you really know what you are doing, but that doesn’t stop it from being the best damn kiss Neteyam will ever experience. It’s falling and flying and soaring in the sky all at once and the exhilaration is overwhelming.

He has no doubt that he looks completely stunned when you pull away. Taking a deep breath, he decides to try again.

“I see you,” Neteyam whispers, very tenderly, as gentle as zephyrs blowing below the violet.

You look at him with unwavering eyes and your hand finds his, intertwining your fingers together. As if you’re enchanted by his whole being, his voice, his determined gaze looking into your own. “I see you, Neteyam.”

You have to resist the urge to lean in, because all you want to do right now is to kiss him, to feel his lips on yours again.

“And you know, I love you too.”

Neteyam is nineteen when he finally knows what flying feels like.

a/n. haven't written anything in like, over a year and a half. im rusty and i needed quite some brainpower (ಥ﹏ಥ) got this idea during winter break vacation but couldn't start writing until i got back. here we are 2 days later with this the outcome.

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burning-midnight · 1 year

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— TOUCHY

🖇️ char. Neteyam x Omaticayan! fem! reader

🖇️ warn. Spicy, jealousy, fluff

💭 In which Neteyam is an extremely affectionate boyfriend whose love language is physical intimacy, and when some Metkayinan boys start getting a bit too flirty with you, be gets jealous and sulks

❕a/n Requests are open! Just a short drabble. I always thought Neteyam was around 17-18, but I found out he was 15 😭 He’s 17-18 in my fics

Neteyam was your mate, and you were his. Ever since he first hooked his eyes on you a year ago, he had been obsessed with you in every way. The way you looked at him with loving eyes, or the way you never complained whenever he held your hand while you did whatever you needed to do. You understood Neteyam loved being physically intact with you.

When he was sitting next to you, even that wouldn’t be enough. He would lay his head on your shoulder, or hold your hand, or wrap his arm around you. Around his family, he would play with your hair—the tiny unbraided strands of your goddess braids, or he would just hook a finger around yours.

He had separation anxiety, though you would never comment on it. You didn’t mind, one bit. You thought that part of him was adorable, like a little puppy.

Because you were his mate, it was decided that you would move to Ao’walu with Jake and his family, leaving your family behind. You were heartbroken, having to leave your siblings and parents behind, but you said your goodbyes and left anyways.

When you arrived at the Pandora Reefs, Neteyam never let go of your hand, not once. But this time, it was to reassure you. When Au’nong and Rotxo stepped forward, he pulled you behind him, while they smirked.

At your new home, he huffed in displeasure. “They were looking at you.” He sulked, sitting next to you with his head on your collarbone, your body leaning against the wooden pillar, his pointer finger hooked to your pinkie.

You smiled reassuringly, shaking your head. “And I was looking at you, Neteyam.” You told him softly, playing with the bead on his braid. Your heart was full, your throat tightening at how adorable he was.

Another instance was when you were at the beach with Tuktirey, accompanying her and looking for seashells on the shallow waters. The two of you knelt on the sand, her laughing in joy. “Look, there’s one!” You laughed, pointing at a pink shell when you heard the water behind you splashing as if somebody was walking near you.

You turned around, seeing a stranger your age walking up to you with two of his friends. You furrowed your eyes. “Tuk, come here.” You whispered, ushering her.

She whimpered in fear as you grabbed her arm and pulled her behind you. You then stood up. “What’re you doing?” The boy asked, tilting his head. You gave him a dirty look. “Can I help you?” You asked, ignoring his question. His friend laughed. “We just want to get to know you, chill out.” He shrugged his shoulders, and you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes.

“I like your hair.” The third guy commented, running his fingers through some braids on your hair. “We should hangout sometime, I can show you some islands around here.” The first guy said, smiling. You huffed, frowning.

“Excuse me.” You mumbled, making sure to keep Tuk away from the guys as you walked past them, and away. “O-Okay! See you around!” The guy yelled after, and you shook your head in disbelief and sighed. Pathetic.

Unknown to you, Neteyam had seen it all. He had the urge to go in and just punch those guys square in the jaw, but after fighting the Au’nong and his friends yesterday, he was sure his father would skin him alive if he were to cause more trouble.

So instead, he stayed out of sight, and watched quietly as his nails dug into his palms. He was glad you quickly had left and even barely spoke to them, displaying your clear unliking to them, but still, he couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Later that day, when the sky was dark, you stood in your home, your back turned to the entrance as you were busy taking the leaves off of berries Kiri had picked. You heard Neteyam enter, turning your shoulder and glancing at him. “How was your day, Neteyam?” You asked, not having seen him all day. He stayed silent, which you ignored. If he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t have to talk. You respected that of him, because you had your moments too.

You heard him dropping his things on the floor, then walk up to you. Without saying a word, his hands slid around your waist, pressing himself against your back as he kissed your shoulder. You smiled, leaning your hair into him as you continued to pick at the berries. His butterfly kisses trailed up your shoulder, to your neck, and his kisses became longer. Your breath hitched as he started sucking softly on the skin on your neck, his thumb rubbing your stomach.

“Neteyam.” You whispered, turning your head slightly towards him, but he ignored you again. You were confused on why he was acting this way. His tongue pressed against the bruises on your neck, before he turned you around and kissed your lips. You immediately responded. “Netey- mm- What’s- Mmph!” You tried talking, but he kept cutting you off by kissing you, each kiss more aggressive than the last. “Shh.” He hushed quickly, before kissing you again.

You did as told, letting him pour his feelings out on you. Your fingers brushed his back, tracing his spine upwards, before lightly tugging on his hair. He pushed his lips against yours, trying to get as close as he could to you, his eyebrows furrowed. He felt goosebumps on his skin as your tail brushed up the inside of his leg. After leaving his final kiss on you, he hugged your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Surprised, you looked at him, before smiling softly and rubbing his back. “What happened, Neteyam?” You asked quietly, closing your eyes as you leaned your head against his. He was silent for a couple heartbeats, but then finally spoke. “I saw those guys trying to hit on you today.” He whispered, and it almost broke your heart—how cute he was. You laughed at his sulking sight, hugging him tighter. “Neteyam, you are too perfect for this world.” You told him, kissing his head.

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burning-midnight · 1 year

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running wild | neteyam

➳ pairing ✧ neteyam x reader (gender-neutral)

➳ genre ✧ soft enemies to lovers. angst + fluff. sfw

➳ word count ✧ 5.7k

➳ warnings ✧ mentions of blood + mild violence

✎ note(s)―leave it to avatar to bring me out of my writers block, lol. honestly, i walked out of the cinema, went home, sat at my desk, and then a few days later this existed <3 crazy.

synopsis―He’s lost his mind and Neteyam knows it, too. But he’s finally found something worth breaking the rules for.

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burning-midnight · 1 year

Text

eye on you

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ neteyam x reader

requested! - you’re being picked on by ao’nung and his friends, and neteyam comes to the rescue

word count: 2095

a/n: just as a side note, the two other boys ao’nung and rotxo were with are unnamed as far as i’m aware, so i gave them names - Yel'tam and Teyxll.

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burning-midnight · 1 year

Text

Burn So Fast, It Scares Me.

summary: gifted with intelligence, the Omatikayan war party relies on your strategies and tactics to guide them through the war with the sky people. unsatisfied with being left behind at the fortress, you jump at the offer to join them on an excursion. Neteyam is not as happy.

warnings: explicit language and sexual content, lengthy verbal argument, hurt/comfort, overprotective!neteyam, underage kissing, no explicit sexual content occurs when characters are underage

title from my (favorite) song: When the Sun Hits by Slowdive

word count: 9.1k

childhood friends to lovers pipeline supremacy

re-edited and retitled! SUPER AWKWARD. sorry about that! I had a minor breakdown about the first version while at work and deleted it in a haste. lmao. life is just like that sometimes. Thank you to everyone who sent in kind messages or liked/reblogged it! I took it down and edited it and am reposting a new and (hopefully) improved version of the story. hope you enjoy! __

Located in the depths of the forest, skeletal remains lay in a makeshift grave, overgrown with thick roots and bright flowers. Rusted metal, broken glass, forgotten arrows. Sometimes, when the enemy airships flew low overhead, the command panel flickered to life. A stuttering last breath of flashing buttons and alarms before falling silent again.

Hidden away in a pocket of the forest, the trees so dense sunlight caught in the leaves and barely touched the ground, it became a reprieve from the Fortress and the expectations of everyone inside it.

You’d found it when you were a kid, straying far from the fortress, curious about whether the rumors of untouched wreckage from the previous war with the sky people, crashed in the jungle, pulled under the foliage, were true.

We shouldn’t be out here, a nervous voice called from behind you. Neteyam, son of the clan leader. It’s forbidden.

No, you corrected, The Shack is forbidden. We’re charting new territory.

Giving you a look of disapproval, he didn’t argue, but slowed his steps.

You don’t have to come, you reminded him, though you knew he wouldn’t turn back. He’d caught you on your way out, despite your best efforts to go unnoticed. When you told him you were going exploring, he told you it was too dangerous to go alone, and that he should go with you.

Your friendship with him was fresh, like a glistening snowfall in the early hours of the morning, untouched and pristine. The war brought you together, in an odd way, him starting to venture to the battlefield and you locked away devising plans and strategies for attacks and counterattacks.

When you found the wreckage, you made him swear not to tell anyone else about it. Not his siblings, his friends, or his parents. He hesitated, especially when you told him he couldn’t tell Neytiri or Jake, but ended up interlocking his pinky with yours in a promise.

The wreckage became a hideaway for you and him, and you and him alone. Which made it the perfect place to have an argument without worrying about prying ears.

You’d been so excited to receive the invite. Considered to be War party adjacent, you never actually went on any of the excursions. Tactics was your assigned job. Jake and the other leaders conversed with you about military plans. The best routes to take through the forest. Ways to attack the enemy with minimal damage. As one of the brains behind their operations, you were offered a place in the room but never a seat at the table.

So, you stayed at the fortress, infuriated, anxious, running over each variation of the plan in your head while the warriors fought on the frontlines. Wishing you could be there to help them through any unforeseen obstacles.

I would be so much more useful, you complained as you watched Neteyam prepare his Ikran, if I could go. Then I could update plans in real time instead of waiting for everyone to get back.

You told him this proposition repeatedly, always met with the same negative response. Still, you’d beat this dead horse until your knuckles bled and the horse degraded into nothing but pounds of meat.

He laughed at you; he always did when you brought up accompanying him to the battlefield. Fixing you with a bright smile meant to distract you from the patronizing shake of his head.

It used to work, but not anymore.

Don’t laugh at me, sliding off the rock you’d been perched on, you offered his Ikran one of the sweet fruits it liked to eat.

I’m not laughing at you, he promised, though he couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. Narrowing your eyes at him, you didn’t say anything about it.

I would be so much more helpful if I could actually be there, instead of just waiting at the Fortress. Another thing you told him over and over, and each time, he said;

You’re helpful here. More than you realize.

With a sigh, you abandoned your futile efforts at convincing him.

You could always talk to my father about it. He came around the other side of his Ikran, leaning against it as he tilted his head down at you. He was teasing, again, and it made your cheeks heat.

Scoffing, you stepped away, putting distance between the two of you. You’d been doing that a lot, recently. Increasing distance between you and him. Something he noticed, his bright eyes flicking over the empty space between you before landing on your face again.

Settling for silence, you returned to your rock and watched Neteyam finish the last of his war preparations.

I’ll see you when I get back, he stopped in front of you.

You didn’t respond. Grabbing your chin, he lifted your face towards his, fingers digging into your cheeks. Come on, say it back. Slapping at his hands with a glare, they fell away.

When met with more silence, he groaned, tilting his head back towards the sky in exasperation. Don’t be like that.

I’m not, you said defensively. See you when you get back.

Staring at you expectantly, you did nothing but avert your gaze from his and went back to picking at the blades of grass.

He left without much fanfare.

Months ago, the two of you had a routine before he left for any battles.

Assisting him with packing his gear, the two of you petting his Ikran and taking breaks to share lunch up in the trees. A warm embrace before he left. You, rising on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Pressed chest to chest, he promised, I’ll see you when I get back.

And you always promised him the same.

Now, your touches were a lot less frequent. Something had shifted. The war hardened him, his once hopeful exterior solidified and became impenetrable, the result of a few close calls with death. Bullets lodged in his skin and deep cuts along his abdomen.

You patched him up, each time, stomach twisting as he winced and jerked under your hands.

A little more gentle, please, he turned his face over his shoulder, giving you a sharp look. He was sitting cross-legged in front of you, fists clenched in the rug underneath him, gritting his teeth and hissing in pain as you disinfected the wound on his back.

You were supposed to avoid them by going through the passage, you reminded him, though you lightened the pressure on the wound. You hated healing him. It was a job neither of you wanted anyone else to do, but you hated it, nonetheless. On the particularly painful injuries, the ones where he cried, you also cried. Seeing him like this was almost unbearable.

They blocked the passage, he defended himself, turning back to face forwards. I had no other option.

If I had been there, I could’ve—

Stop, he gasped, exasperated. I don’t want to hear it. It’s never going to happen.

Hands stilling, a beat of charged silence passed between the two of you. Pursing your lips, hurt, you didn’t respond and returned to tending to his wounds.

Back then, you always saved his face for last. A warm towel pressed to his jaw, to the bruises along his cheekbone, the blood from his nose. Practically in his lap, providing he had no injuries that prevented it, your faces only centimeters apart. If he wasn’t in too bad of shape, he’d tell you stories of the fight.

I could’ve killed Lo’ak. He’s always making my job so fucking hard.

(Whatever his little brother did that day must’ve been bad, because Neteyam rarely cursed, unless he was too frustrated to use his prim and proper vocabulary)

or sometimes he said other things to make you smile. Things like--

We should visit there when this war is finished. It’s beautiful, I think you’d like it

He’d always talk quietly, the words meant for just you two.

On the bad days, he’d just murmur a quiet missed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you flat against him as your fingers on his chin tilted his face back so you could finish fixing him up.

But the war impacted you, too. A dark cloud that cast an unmistakable shadow over your relationship, the promise of thick rain and rattling thunder.

When you two were fourteen, him fifteen, your friendship wasn’t a problem. Innocent affection. Afternoons swimming in the river, him teaching you how to use a bow and arrow, you teaching him the undefeated strategies of Omaticayan card and board games.

But you’d both grown. Him, into a strong warrior, and you, into nothing but an ordinary member of the Omatikayan clan, who was just smart enough to beg for scraps on the outskirts of his life, but not good for much else.

The warm feeling of his friendship burned too hot, scalding you, reminding you of the fragility of your relationship with him. You loved each other, he’d told you so, as the years stretched on. Not explicitly in words, but his actions said enough.

Once, the sky people sent a spy. Someone you worked closely with, and once they’d identified you as the brain behind the Omatikaya operation, they attempted to kill you. You had little combat training, hence why they forced you to stay at back at the Fortress, and could barely fight the spy off from wrapping their hands around your throat and pressing the tip of the blade through your heart.

You wished you could take the glory of protecting yourself, but the truth is, they painted the walls with you. Writhing enough to keep the knife from piercing any organs, but not enough to escape the cut entirely, you bled out.

Rather embarrassing.

Upon waking, it was Tuk’s face you saw first. Leaning so close, as if to check your breathing, she jerked back when you opened your eyes.

You smiled, or at least tried to. Lips spit, a metallic taste coated your tongue as you tried to speak but couldn’t. Neteyam’s fingers found yours, and interlocking them, softly squeezing your hand. I’m here, he promised with the action, I won’t leave. I love you.

And he meant it. Even after healing, you didn’t spend a minute alone. Neteyam drifted in your peripheral like a bodyguard. You cared for him, deeply, but you weren’t going to die any time soon, and he still acted like the grim reaper hovered over you, slobbering, ready to rip you from Neteyam’s arms at any moment and slash you with his sheath.

You need to back up, you told him one afternoon, hand pressed to his chest. I’m okay now, there’s no reason to be worried.

He drew his lips between his teeth, eyes trained on your fingers splayed on his skin, looking small compared to his broad frame, dwarfed when he takes your hand in both of his, holding it like a lifeline between you.

You almost died, his voice came out weak, almost carried away by the wind.

I know, I was there, he didn’t appreciate your levity about the situation. You softened, tilting your head as you looked up at him. Thank you for taking care of me. Let me breathe a little, okay?

It was hard to establish that boundary, you usually wanted him as close as possible. But it had to be done.

And as much as you cared for him, you knew he would inherit his title soon, have a family, prioritize others. And then you’d never see him except for military strategy meetings. After the war ended, if the two of you were even still alive, you’d never see him at all, unless in passing.

So, you decided it was best the both of you backtrack. No more embracing before he left for fighting, or anywhere. Occasionally helping with his injuries upon his return, though most of the time you made an excuse about how Kiri or his grandmother had skills better suited for his cuts and bruises.

No more arms thrown around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walked along the tree branches.

No more laying your head on your chest while star gazing, tracing constellations on his skin.

No more sneaking him inside your tent late at night, muffling his laughter with a palm pressed against his mouth.

And then there was this other issue entirely: Jake asked you to accompany them on a mission.

The both of you knew Neteyam wouldn’t be happy about it. Neither of you acknowledged that fact, but he did tell you it was a secret operation that very few even knew about, and you needed to keep it that way.

For the first time, you kept a secret from your best friend. Usually, he was the first one you told anything to, and vice versa. But now, you couldn’t even look him in the eye without the heavy burden of guilt sitting tight in your chest, like an anchor pulling you to the depths of the ocean, where the sunlight refuses to touch.

Your secret, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you would have to grow up and move on with your lives very soon, made being around him difficult.

You tried to be subtle about it. Wean yourself off the physical contact so that he wouldn’t notice. It was supposed to be easy, but Neteyam noticed everything about you. Especially the lack of touching.

But he never said anything about it, and you figured he understood your intentions. It’s for the best, you reminded yourself each time, hands feeling empty without his sinewy body between them.

A little heartbreak now to save yourself later. Microdose the sadness.

And it worked! for a time.

After a particularly rough excursion, where your battle plan spiraled out of control and resulted in many dead and injured, Jake called you into the War Room.

Panicked, you thought he was going to demote you. Blame you for the deaths, for the injured. You knew Neteyam got hit hard, saw him carried to the medic area. Usually, even on the worst days, he could at least walk there on his own. You watched from a distance, briefly considering throwing your personal resolution to put distance between you two into the wind and swallow your pride and help him, but you knew his family could take care of it.

You and Lo’ak stood outside the War Room, waiting to be invited in.

“Neteyam asked for you.” Lo’ak wasn’t looking at you, arms crossed over his chest, blood on his hands. He must’ve been there when Neteyam got hurt. Overcome with the urge to ask what happened, to scrounge for details like a desperate beggar, you bit your tongue. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but—”

“Nothing’s going on between us,” you rushed to assure him, but he gave you a flat look.

“It’s killing him.”

Lo’ak’s words made you shrink into the wall, longing for a black hole to direct its inescapable gravitation pull towards you. How were you supposed to explain your plan to him? You couldn’t, so you didn’t, opting for silence instead.

Finally, Jake appeared, a reprieve from the crushing weight of your conversation with Lo’ak.

“You, first,” he gestured towards you, holding the door open. You shot Lo’ak a worried look, and he gave you two thumbs up.

unhelpful.

Neteyam was the only other Na’avi in the room. Bandaged, torn up, but there. You locked eyes immediately, biting your tongue to keep from betraying any emotion on your face. The weight of his attention suffocated you, even after you glanced away. You took your place next to Neteyam, conscious to keep several feet between the two of you, facing his father and preparing yourself for the humiliation of the inevitable demotion

Instead, he offered you a place in the War Party. Actually in the Party, not just adjacent to it or sentenced to quiet, undercover missions only, but a carved out place for you on the front lines. Or at least as close to the front lines as you’ll ever be able to get. His reasoning was what you’d been saying all along. After the last plan went so wrong, it would be more beneficial if you were there, always, able to recalculate and redirect in real time.

Heart pounding in your chest, you fought against the wide smile that threatened to break loose. Parting you lips to accept, you were interrupted.

“No.”

Whipping your head to the side, you stared up at Neteyam, who was no longer looking at you but staring at his father. They were having some kind of silent conversation, betrayal written all over Neteyam’s face.

“Actually,” you interjected, stepping forward to put yourself between Jake and Neteyam. “What he means is ‘yes, I accept the offer.’”

“No.”

You shook your head. “He doesn’t speak for me. I want to go.”

“As the future Olo'eyktan, I won’t allow this.”

“Future Olo’eyktan,” you emphasized. “You don’t have that power yet.”

Jake looked between you two. “I don’t need an answer right now. Think about it until our next fight in a few days.”

Taking a step forward, Neteyam held his hands out in front of him as if brokering peace. Suppressing an eye roll, you stared at the tense muscles of his back. You were used to this side of him, the side that mediated fights where emotions overpowered logic. What you were not used to, however, was him talking back to his father, the man he admired and emulated.

“Respectfully, sir, I do not think she’d benefit us on the field.”

Lips parted, eyes wide, you stared at him. He wasn’t meeting your eyes, focused on his father, but his insistence that you were not fit for the job stung.

“She has no experience,” Neteyam reasoned, voice strained.

“I do,” you started talking before you could stop yourself, face hot from embarrassment and fury. “I never told you about it because I knew you wouldn’t be supportive, but I’ve actually gone on several missions that you weren’t even aware of.”

Jake looked wildly out of place, caught in a spat between his golden child and his son’s best friend. “Maybe the two of you should talk this out before—”

“Is that true?” Neteyam interrupted, and that’s how you knew he was truly out of his mind. In over a decade of friendship, you’ve never seen him intentionally disobey or interrupt his father. Ever.

Shooting you a long, sullen look, you regretted speaking about it at all. With a heavy sigh, Jake nodded. “Yes,” the hesitance dripped from his tone. “I enlisted her on a few missions that went outside the Fortress.”

Turning his attention to you (finally), you almost couldn’t stomach the look of betrayal directed at you. He wore his emotions clearly, another fatal flaw, and you’d purposefully taken his heart, ripped it from the seams connecting it to his sleeves, and crushed it between your fingers. Like a flower you’d left to wilt, his shoulders turned inwards, his face fell. “You kept that from me?”

“Why would I tell you?” You wanted to shove it in his face with a sneer, recount every detail of how you’d led the team to victory. But instead, your eyes watered. “You think I’m useless. You would’ve tried to talk your father out of it.”

“Of course I would.” he wanted to be angry, you could tell by the way his fists clenched at his sides, but his voice shook in a way you recognized from all the times you heard him cry (which you could count on one hand). “I thought we could trust each other.” He was looking at his father again, but judging by the shake of his head, you felt his statement was directed at you.

A part of you wanted to assure him that you could still be trusted. The part of you that knew he would follow you to the depths of the forest because he didn’t like you adventuring alone. The part of you that cleaned the blood from his face, his calloused fingers skimming the sides of your arms, your waist, along your face.

But he’d hurt you just as badly. He swore, over and over, that you did not have to prove yourself to him. Yet here he was, standing in front of his father, the leader of your clan, making you seem incompetent.

“If you only think of me as dead weight, then I wish you would’ve told me sooner. Would’ve saved us both a lot of time.”

Jaw clenched, Neteyam took in a deep breath. “You misunderstand—”

“Am I dismissed?”

With a nod, Jake let you go. Not bothering to look at Neteyam, you gave him the cold shoulder, exiting before your devastation made itself clear through hot tears and gasping breaths.

Tramping through underbrush and smacking leaves out of your face, you hustled towards the only place you’d get some privacy.

You were so mad, you could’ve given Neteyam a whole new set of injuries. If it weren’t for him, you’d have that position locked down, just as you’d always wanted. He knew how much you craved this opportunity, slobbered over it. Being close friends entailed baring your soul to him, and you did, and he used it against you.

A part of you wanted to be alone. To sit in the reeds and feel sorry for yourself.

But another part of you knew he would follow, and when a flash of blue caught your attention, you shook your head. “I have nothing to say to you.”

Lies. You had a lot to say to him.

Fuck you for ruining this for me.

Are you okay?

I miss you.

How dare you talk down to me like that.

I’m sorry for causing this rift between us.

“I have nothing to say to you, either.” Venturing further into the trees, he grew closer.

Scoffing, you stood, preparing to back away. “You can’t be mad at me.”

“Actually, I can. I am.”

Fists clenched at your sides. “For what? You’re the one that ruined—”

“I saved you.”

“I don’t need to be saved!”

Now, he was the one shaking his head. “I’m not letting you throw your life away.”

Frowning up at him, you said, “I don’t know why you think I’m so incapable. What do I have to do to make you think otherwise?”

“Nothing,” he countered. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me. But there’s also nothing you can do that will change my mind. You’re not going.”

Staring up at him, for the first time in months, you did not avert your gaze. He was angry. You could see it in his glare, in the tension in his shoulders, in the quickness of his chest rising and falling.

Upset body language you’ve seen directed at others, but never at you. It made your throat close, and your eyes burn.

“I’m not weak. I can take care of myself.” Cursing how childish you sounded, you grasped at straws. You used to know him so well, but now you weren’t sure how to get through to him.

“This is war,” he explained, “it doesn’t matter how skilled you are, sometimes all it comes down to is luck. I’m not taking that chance.”

“You take that chance,” you pointed out, eyeing him as he took a step forward. “Lo’ak takes that chance.”

“That’s different.”

“Your parents take that chance; your other friends take that chance—”

“That’s different.” He raised his voice. Something he never did with you, or anyone else. Maybe Lo’ak, but everyone raised their voice at him. So calm and collected, he was frayed at the edges, an unraveled version of your old friend.

“How! How is it different?”

Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath, jaw clenched. “Don’t go there with me.”

“Then, I don’t know what to say.”

It hurt, more than you cared to admit. His lack of faith in you. Yes, sometimes your plans went wrong, but most of them went right. It’s not like you were stupid, unable to think for yourself. You had good instincts. Made good decisions.

He sighed your name, something long and exasperated.

“Why don’t you have any trust in me?” you asked, demanding an answer.

“You lied to me.”

“I had no other choice.”

Displeased at your explanation, he rubbed his jaw. “You could’ve been killed. And I would’ve had to find out after the damage was already done.”

Pursing your lips for a moment, you tried to make sense of your thoughts. But they bounced around your skull, rattling into each other, blending. “Everyone else gets to give their lives for The Cause. I volunteered to do the same.”

“That’s my responsibility,” he gestured towards himself, and your eyes tracked the movements. After spending so much time distancing yourself from him, you wanted to feel his arms around you again, rest your head on his chest. But you’d destroyed any chance of that happening ever again. “I don’t want you to carry the same weight I do.”

With nothing left to say, you let him take the reins in the argument. His tone sharpened. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

The question caught you off guard. Your shoulders caved inwards. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

Scoffing with a roll of eyes, he said, “right. That’s why you can’t even stand to be around me for more than five minutes.” When he looked at you, it was accusatory, and you floundered for an explanation.

“We’ve been busy.”

It was insulting, how lame your excuse was.

His eyes narrowed. “We’ve been busy.”

“Yes.”

Laughing now, a quiet and cynical sound, he nodded to himself. “Okay. I’ve been busy trying to live up to my father’s expectations, and you’ve been busy lying to me and going on secret missions. You’re the mighty warrior.”

“I didn’t lie,” you corrected. “I just didn’t tell you something. I’m allowed to do that.”

“No, you’re not!” raising his voice again, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “You can’t keep things from me when they involve your safety. I’m going crazy, I’ve been going crazy, thinking about you.”

Deep down, you knew he was right. You’d be upset if the roles were reversed. A perk of being involved in tactics was being able to know the whereabouts of every soldier, of knowing where Neteyam was (or at least should be, if things were going right) at all times during the thick of it.

You’d go equally as crazy if you had no idea of his whereabouts.

“You’re backing away from me like I’m about to attack you.”

You didn’t realize you were doing it until he pointed it out, inching towards a far tree. It’d become second nature over the past few months, a habit you’d give anything to kick.

“We’re fighting,” you reminded him. “I’m sorry if I don’t want to be on top of you.”

A poor choice of words.

Because most of the time, you also craved the comfort of his skin against yours, whether it was your fingers interlocked or his arm around your shoulders or your hands pressed to the firm muscle of his back.

Running a hand down his face, he corrected you. “We’re not fighting. We don’t fight.”

It’s true. In the past, you never argued. Mostly because he could control his temper, or at least bottle his emotions for however long he needed to, and you shied away from conflict. The two of you had good communication before you started pulling away from him, opening up to each other and providing comfort. You’ve never had anything to fight about.

“We’re mad at each other and not talking about it. That’s fighting.”

Silence stretched between the two of you. Neither of you knew where to go from there, both brimming with unsaid words.

“I’ll tell you why I don’t want you to join the War Party if you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

Neteyam stood closer than you’d realized. He must’ve taken a few strides when you weren’t paying attention, distracted by a bug crawling on a branch, wishing your life was that simple. You forced yourself to stay put so you wouldn’t prove his point.

“I already told you.”

“Bullshit.” he was pissed again, you could tell by the way he moved his hands when he spoke, and the shadow that darkened his face. “Tell me the truth.”

“You first.”

He sighed, shutting his eyes. “When you’re here, I can keep you safe. I can’t promise that anywhere else.”

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m not your responsibility, you don’t have to watch over me like that.”

“I do. It’s my duty as your leader.”

“You’re not the leader, yet. And that’s all this is? You trying to do your job? Using that logic, no one would be allowed to leave the Fortress, ever.”

He was smiling again, though it didn’t reach his eyes, and resembled more of a grimace than anything else. It made your chest tighten. “You’re so smart yet you act so dumb.”

Fuming, you said, “forget it. Neither of us are going to change each other’s minds, we should just--forget it.”

“You’re not understanding me.” Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, he huffed. “I’m trying to keep you from being hurt. I can’t control what happens to you out there,” he gestured towards some hypothetical battlefield beyond the shack, “the thought of you getting hurt, the way that I’ve been hurt,” he pressed a hand to his chest. “or being killed the way my friends have been killed—” he swallowed, letting his arms fall limp at his sides. “I can’t do it. And if I have the power to stop it from happening, then I’m going to do everything I can to prevent it.” With a shrug, he said, “I’m sorry. You’re not going.”

“I understand what you’re saying. It’s not easy for me, either. Seeing you leave and never knowing if I’ll ever get to be with you again. That’s part of why I want to go so badly. I wouldn’t be so powerless. I could help, prevent you from getting injured or dying. I care about you, too.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

justified, but still hurtful.

“Neteyam.”

“When you first started pulling away, I could justify it. You were stressed about war. What did it matter if we weren’t spending time together outside of that. I told myself that, when the worst was over and we were done with living day to day, you would come back to me. And being injured didn’t seem so bad anymore, because then you’d have to spend time with me. But then you stopped doing that, too, and I realized your absence would be more permanent than I originally thought.”

There was nothing you could say that would reverse that damage. You were looking anywhere but at him, eyes shining, throat lined with apologies and confessions. A rough hand gripped your jaw, and for the first time in several months, the two of you were close.

Your chest brushed against his, your face in his hands, tilted back so you had to meet his eyes. Your hands grabbed at his wrists, pulling, but to no avail. He was a warrior, trained to withstand the physical challenges of the battlefield. Made of lean muscle and unshakeable resolve, now that he had you in his grip, you doubted he’d let you escape it anytime soon.

“Tell me why. You owe it to me.”

“I thought I was doing what’s best for the both of us.” Limp in his hold, you thanked the darkness for covering the flush on your face.

“How could being apart from each other be what’s best?”

“I started to realize that after you became the next leader, I would have no place in your life.” it sounded stupid, when you said it aloud, but there was no running from it now. “You’d have your job as leader, and find someone to spend your life with, and of course I’m happy for you, but I also had to look out for myself. You have this bright future ahead of you, and I’m a dead end, Neteyam. There’s no future for us together.”

You thought you were going to die with how fast your heart beat in your chest, certain that he could hear it. After a long stretch of silence, in which his face betrayed nothing, the hand on your jaw moved down to your throat. Your eyes widened as his grip tightened, cutting your airflow just enough to scare you but not enough to stop you from breathing completely.

He pushed you backwards, your feet dragging across the soil, trying to gain purchase but failing. Using his grip on your throat to lift you off the ground, you strained on your toes, your back against the trunk of the tree. Trapped, alone in forbidden territory, you wondered if you’d angered him so much he wanted going to kill you.

And then he kissed you.

You had kissed him once before, years ago, when you were sixteen and he was seventeen. Dark bruises littered his face, hung like ornaments on his cheekbone and jaw. A cut on his lip, still bleeding, and each time he reached up to wipe at it you grabbed his hand and shoved it back into his lap.

He winced when your fingers pressed down on one of the marks. "Careful."

Sitting back in your heels, you tossed the washcloth you'd been using to clean the blood from his nose. "What the hell is wrong with you."

Not looking you in the eye, his focus locked on something just past your shoulder, he said "nothing."

Suspicious, you narrowed your gaze at him. "You got into a fight."

A roll of his eyes. Slight, barely there, but an eyeroll nonetheless. "Lo'ak exaggerates. It was not a fight."

"You broke his nose. That's a fight."

"It was more like a brief physical altercation. Nothing is wrong with me."

Blinking at him, you waited for him to explain, to give any sort of context.

He didn't, though he did fidget, meaning he was hiding something from you. Gesturing towards the discarded washcloth, he said, "are you going to finish patching me up or am I going to have to do it myself?"

Taken aback by his sass, you did as he asked, rising back into your knees to reach his face. You resumed your work in silence, used to the way he stared at you when you cleaned the blood from his skin.

"I'm sure Ateyo will tell me what happened after he can speak again." You lifted your hand to mend the cut on his brow when he caught your wrist in his grip. His fingers dug into you, tight, pinching the surface. Movements paused, you met his eyes, your teasing gone.

"Don't talk to him again."

Occasionally, Neteyam ordered you around. Simple instructions that used to bother you. I'm older, he'd remind you whenever you refused to listen. One of his fatal flaws; he believed he knew what was best for everyone.

But he never flat out told you what to do like he was doing now. Never set boundaries on your life, like don't go there or don't talk to him.

"Why not?" you asked, voice quiet. You brought your other hand up to rest against his check, thumb tracing a deep bruise. He leaned into it, the grip on your wrist sliding away. Wrapping his arms around your lower back, he pulled you close. So close the tip of your nose brushed against his.

"He's a skxawng."

You smiled. "You think everyone is a skxawng."

But he wasn't paying attention anymore. His eyes were low, half-lidded, focused on your lips. You hadn't kissed anyone before, but your friendship with Neteyam had shifted into something more than what it used to be.

There was an expectation there. A knife through your chest when other Omaticaya girls got close to him. A threat in his eyes when he saw you with Ateyo, or any other boy. It was so fleeting, you weren't sure it was real at all.

Your free hand pressed against his chest, where his heart would be. It pulses under your touch, fast and erratic. But his breathing was slow, eyes unmoving. Your own breath skipped as his arms tightened around you, pulling your further into his lap, no space between the two of you.

"I mean it this time," he told you, distracted. "I should've done a lot more than knock his teeth out for what he said about you."

Tilting his head to the side, one of his hands brushed your hair off your shoulder, his fingers skimming your skin and then replaced with the soft touch of his lips. Not kissing, or pressing down, just brushing against your skin. Your grip on his shoulders tightened, breath hitching.

you couldn't think straight. the fact that he'd gotten into a fight, over what some moron said about you, warranted a knock upside the head to put some common sense back into him.

but he was truly kissing your neck now, his tongue sliding over the skin before the sharp point of his teeth bit down. When you gasped, he groaned, low in your ear, arms around your waist so tight you thought there'd be marks left tomorrow.

You wanted there to be marks left tomorrow.

"I let him hit me a few times," he confessed, pulling back from you to look you in the eyes again. You were having trouble focusing, which he noticed, judging by the faint and playful grin on his lips. "Just so I could be here with you."

In the end, you were the one to kiss him first. Eyes fluttered shut, tilting his face up to yours, you pressed your lips against his. He returned it, soft, slow, his body strong against yours.

You parted, once, but he followed your lips so closely, leaning forward in your space, you didn’t have a chance to speak before he kissed you again. Teeth scraping against your lower lip, tongue sliding against yours, one of his hands on the back of your neck to prevent you from pulling back, you were so distracted by the solid muscle he pressed against you that you almost didn’t notive the heavy footsteps approaching the door.

Pulling away from him, you stood, and fled the room before his father could walk in on something neither you nor Neteyam could explain.

"What the hell were you thinking?" echoed down the hall, but you were long gone by that point.

Neither of you mentioned the kiss, both caught up in insecurity and deciding that the friendship was worth more than that. Still, Ateyo avoided you like the plague and you didn't give him anything but small smiles, heeding Neteyam's warning.

You thought about that kiss, a lot.

And one time, drunk, Neteyam confessed that he thought about it, too.

But it never happened again.

Yet, here you were, his lips against yours. This time, he was the one to lean down.

Shocked, you did little more than stare up at him with wide eyes. It was a soft press of his lips against yours, but still intentional. He slid his leg in-between yours, the muscles on his thigh pressing upwards, and you gasped against him, rolling your hips down.

Prepared for the second kiss, you tipped your face back, meeting him halfway. This one was rough. His tongue slid against yours, licking into your opened mouth, hands still tight on your jaw, fingers still against your throat, not allowing you much movement other than placing your hands on his chest. You slid them over his shoulders, pressing down on the strength of them, then down the front of his chest, over his abs.

The hand wrapped around your throat pressed into the wall next to your head, and while you were distracted by looking at the muscles in him arm tighten, he gripped your chin in his fingers and turned your head to the side as his lips trailed down your jaw and onto your neck.

“Are you still mad at me?” you cursed the breathiness in your voice. Whimpering when he bit down on your soft skin, the sharp points of his skin nearly breaking the surface, he soothed the area with a. hot swipe of his tongue.

“So mad,” he huffed, pressing his thigh harder between your legs. Another roll of your hips and a whimper from you, followed by a groan from him. “Fuck, I can’t even think straight.”

Kissing you again, it was more of a punishment. Teeth against your lip, not allowing you to breathe, not allowing you to run from him anymore. His arms wrapped around you, pulling your body from the tree, and the two of you ended up on the ground. Him laying over you, forearms by your head, hips pressed together.

“Missed you,” he groaned into your ear when you hitched a leg around his waist, rocking up against him.

“Missed you, too,” you gasped, cut off by him pressing his lips to yours again. A few more fast kisses, and he pulled away again.

“You never had to miss me, we could’ve been doing this the entire time.” His lips were at the hollow of your throat, sucking the skin, making you dizzy.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, honestly, using your hands in his hair to pull his face to yours.

He smiled against you, shaking his head. “skxawng.”

Scratching your nails down his back in response, you couldn’t help but smile with him. The moment broke the negative tension, replacing it with an overpowering kind. His hips never slowed, each thrust making you bite back a gasp despite the layers of clothing between the two of you. The kisses slowed and blurred together, nothing but a slow press of tongue and lips and groans that made your thighs tense and your clit throb.

One of his hands toyed with your thin top. He kissed you again, so you were distracted. You pressed your palms flat against his back, feeling the firm muscle, tracing the scars between his shoulder blades. He palmed over breasts with his free hand, the other one working at the knot holding your top against you. The thin sheet of cloth that clung to you did little to protect your sensitive nipple from brushing against his chest, or his fingers pressing against them over your clothes. “Is this okay?” he asked, groaning in your ear when you trailed your lips down his neck, your tongue against his skin.

“Yes,” you were a little too enthusiastic in your response, lifting your shoulders from the ground so he could pull it off. He grinned against you, a gentle laugh pressed into the skin of your clavicle. Most thought Lo’ak was the arrogant one between the brothers, but in truth, you knew Neteyam could be just as cocky. You let it slide as he tossed your top aside, pulling you against him, not bothering to look down before kissing you again.

His hands slid over your stomach, thumbs indenting your skin, before he pressed his palms over your breasts. Leaning back, he pulled himself away from your body to stare down at you. Only for a few seconds, chest heaving, taking in the sight of you underneath him. Lips tracing over your shoulders, he trailed down until he took one of your breasts in his mouth, the rough pads of his fingers sliding over the other.

Arching into him, you bit your tongue to muffle your whimper, legs tight around his waist. The pleasure pushed you higher, the occasional scrape of his teeth against you making you press your fingers tight against his shoulders. He switched to the other nipple, roughly palming the other one. “Shit,” he cursed against you. “You’re making it so hard for me, baby.”

“Want you so bad,” distracted by his free hand sliding up your thigh, you didn’t notice him licking through the valley of your breasts until he reached your hip bone, fingers slipping from your tits to mess with your waist band.

“Can I take this off?”

For the first time, you hesitated. It was a split second, but he caught it, hoisting himself up so his palms were flat against the ground and he wasn’t touching you. Still trapped in the haze, you weren’t entirely sure how to voice your thoughts, but you knew he wouldn’t accept you shying away from him anymore. “Don’t you want to try it with someone else?”

Poor boy looked so confused, frowning, eyes flicking from your tits to your face, trying to stay focused. “What?”

You sat up, and he moved with you, holding your hand to help you up. Your face heated, and you reminded yourself that this was your best friend and not someone who wanted to hurt you. “It’s so permanent. Don’t you want to explore all of your options before committing?”

Staring at you, dumbfounded, his shoulders tense and his hands clenching yours. “Do you want to explore other options?”

“No,” you rushed to say. “I don’t want to force you to do anything. I’m trying to give you a way out, in case you want one.”

Sighing, he cupped the back on your neck, pulling you against him. He gave you another soft kiss, nothing more than a featherlight press of his lips against yours. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you.”

The two of you swapped a few more gentle kisses, him chasing your lips every time you pulled back to speak.

“I See you,” you whispered, kissing him again so you didn’t have to see his immediate reaction. “I was scared of it for a long time. But it’s true.”

When he whimpered against you, the noise sent another wave of heat between your legs. “I See you,” he spoke into your ear, pushing you down so your back met the cold ground and he hovered over you. “Can’t live without you. Don’t ever leave me again.”

The following kisses returned to a fevered pace, desperate. You couldn’t get close enough to him, his hands skirting over your front, tugging at your hair, your hands on his waist, against his jaw. His tongue slid into your mouth, his hips rolled down, and you could hardly keep up with how desperate you were. “Please,” you gasped, taking his hands and guiding them down your body.

“Yeah?” he asked, working at the knot holding your clothing over your hipbone. “You want this?”

“So much,” you confessed, devastated at the lack of friction against your core. “Do you?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “So gorgeous, you have no idea how much I’ve had to hold myself back from this.”

licking at your breasts again, he slid the cloth up and over your thighs, bunching it at your hips. “So hard to control myself around you.”

Propping yourself on your elbows, you watched him discard your skirt, sliding it down your legs, his fingers brushing against your thigh, making your hips rise slightly in search of him. The first touch of his fingers against you, gathering your wetness along the pads of his fingers had you laying back, unable to hold yourself up. When the rough pads of his fingers swiped over your clit, his thumb rubbing in slow circles, you had to remind yourself to breathe, eyes shut, face hot.

Other hand sliding up your calf and pulling it over his shoulder, you didn’t realize he spoke until he bit into your thigh. Gasping, you returned to the moment.

“Need you to be here with me,” he told you, making you look at him. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

“I don’t want to stop, it feels good.”

He nodded, biting back his grin at the praise. “Keep making those sounds, then,” he ducked his head, licking from your opening to the top, tip of his tongue pressed against your clit for only a second before disappearing.

you did as he asked, crying at the pleasure as he repeated the action a few times before sealing his lips over your clit and sucking, fingers pressing inside of you. Cursing, your nails scratched against the floor, hips rising to press yourself further against his face, back arching off the ground.

fingers curling inside of you, bullying a certain spot inside of you that made you cry out. the pleasure mounted, his hot tongue sliding against your clit over and over, occasionally replaced by harsh sucks. your eyes rolled back, and you could do nothing but stutter his name and gasp for air.

You were right there, on the precipice of snapping, when he pulled away. His fingers slowed to a slow thrust, and you tears brimmed on your lashes from the desperation of being edged like that. You wanted to ask him why, to yell at him for delaying this, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper and a wanton roll of your hips.

“I’m still mad at you, sweetheart,” his fingers returned to your clit, moving just as slow as his other fingers pumping in and out of you. “you ignored me for months.”

“I didn’t ignore you,” you managed to grit out. “I just put some distance between us.”

Humming, he bent down again, replacing his fingers with his mouth, putting you right back on that edge, only to stop you from falling over once more when he pulled back. You nearly kicked him. “Maybe I should put some distance between us now,” the teasing in his voice was almost enough to make you stand up and leave.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“I could be convinced to stay,” he winked at you, increasing the pace of his fingers thrusting inside of you. But the playfulness faded. “Tell me you’ll never leave me again.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Tell me you won’t lie to me again.”

“I won’t.”

He brought you to the edge, then backed away for a third time. This time, you couldn’t keep the tears from falling, sniffling. He made a mocking sound. “Is this hard for you?”

After you nodded, he increased the pace of his fingers on your clit, and said “don’t cum yet.”

Whimpering, you tried to think of anything else but his hands and lips on you but failed. You were tipping over the cliff, when he stopped again, pulling his hands away from you completely. He gripped your waist and flipped you over, hands on your hips to raise them off the ground, his other hand on your upper back to press your face into the ground.

And then his tongue was on you again, sliding through your folds, lips forming a seal around your clit and sucking, his hands holding your trembling thighs apart. You were no longer above begging, asking him for permission to cum. Drooling over it.

“Go ahead, baby,” he said after pulling away from you. “Say my name when you do it.”

Returning to you, fingers nudging that spot again, tongue hot and slick against you, you couldn’t hold yourself off the ground when you came. A whimper of his name, a moan that echoed, every thought in your head shattered by your orgasm, he eased you onto your back, kissing you before you even had a chance to come back to yourself.

It was a messy kiss, like the kind he’d given your pussy. You could taste yourself on him, and you pulled away for air, lips brushing against his ear. “You’re so good to me,” you said, pulling him closer, you used your own slick to wet your fingers before you pumped his dick a few times.

He groaned. “Don’t tease,” sitting back on his heels, he thrusted into your hand, eyes falling shut and face tilting back. “Waited long enough to have you. Can’t take it.”

Neteyam ended up hovering over you again, the head of his dick brushing your entrance, eyes trained on yours. “We can still stop,” he assured you, even though he could stop the movement of his hips, the tip of his cock hitting your clit with every slow roll.

“I want to do this with you.”

And with that, he used one hand to guide himself inside, the other was used to hold himself over you. The intrusion made you whimper and clench your eyes shut, lip drawn between your teeth. He made noises, too, desperate sounds that had your pussy clenching around him. You were wet and turned on enough that he was able to slip inside, though the stretch still stung and made your eyes water.

Muttering sweet nothings against your lips, once his hips were flush with yours, both of you paused. It was an overwhelming feeling, to be full of him. He brushed against every nerve, upset every balance inside of you, even when all he could manage were shallow thrusts, barely pulling back and pressing in again. He was overwhelmed, too, judging by the way he buried his face in your neck, cursing, begging, praising you. “So perfect,” he told you, pulling out further than he had before, but still not leaving you completely. When he pressed forward again, you moaned, the lewd sound of your wetness distracting you. “Don’t know how I ever lived without this, without you.”

Too overstimulated to return the words, you settled for pressing your lips against his, urging his hips to move. They did, the tip of his cock nudging somewhere so deep inside of you it blurred the pleasure and the pain and had you holding onto him as if you’d disappear if you didn’t.

He shifted your position. “Want to be closer,” he told you as he pulled your legs over his shoulders, leaning forward until your knees were by your head and he set a fast pace, hands returning to your breasts, pulling and tugging on your hard nipples as you met his thrusts, or tried to, before you gave up completely and just let him do what he wanted. Pressed down into you harder, battered that pleasurable spot inside of you, his hands unrelenting on your tits.

“With me,” he begged, hands moving from your body to find yours, interlocking your fingers and pressing them into the ground. “Cum with me.”

You reached that high together, groaning and gasping into each other’s mouths, dissolving into kisses once you both finished.

Later that night, after returning to the Fortress, you snuck him back into your tent, laughing the entire time.

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burning-midnight · 1 year

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THE ATTRACTIVE THINGS NETEYAM DOES

always touching you. he is protective. there is absolutely no way to sugar coat this, and it is clearly demonstrated in atwow. your presence grounds him, and knowing you're there, right next to him, skin against his, instantly eases his conscious. he likes being the bigger spoon and splaying a hand across the expanse of your lower back when he's around you…he will completely blanch, though, if you're the one initiating something more intimate (back hugs, small touches or kisses on his shoulders, etc). however he LOVES to do it to you.

he is incredibly patient. as the oldest of four, patience is a necessity. he's mastered the ability to keep relatively calm when a situation calls for it. this includes when the two of you have an argument or disagreement about something. additionally, he is the type to give you space post argument. won't approach you unless he realizes he was 100% in the wrong or it's been more than a day of not talking to you. and if you're still a little bitter, he'll continue to stick around and patiently wait for you to realize how much you miss him.

luring you in by doing absolutely nothing. everything about him is just attractive. he could just be standing there and your eyes would still be drawn to him. he isn’t exactly aware, per say, about how alluring he can be, but he is definitely aware when your eyes are on him. once he's certain your attention is completely on him he'll show off or do things that make your cheeks heat and stomach do flips. he's a tease, there's no point in trying to deny it.

puts his entire trust in you and the relationship. now while he'll still get jealous at times (it's quite rare but definitely still happens), he trusts you completely. he thinks it'd be pointless not to, especially when you're already with him. you tell him all the time how happy you are with him, so why should he have any reason to worry, right?

constantly makes small quips and teases you. he loves to see you flustered and giggly, smiling so wide your cheeks ache. and one of the easiest ways to do that is to tease you about something…like he does to lo'ak, but less with the intention of annoyance. he especially likes to pester you about your height, always finishing off his taunting with something super flirtatious like, "but don't worry, my love, i like being taller than you. it makes me feel like i'm your sworn protector." he'll also comment on the size difference between your hands (!!!), always going on and on about how your palm was made to be pressed against his. "you're so small."

he's naturally competitive. this will undoubtedly lead to races on your ilu's/ikran's. neteyam likes the rush of adrenaline he receives when he's messing around with you—it makes him feel like a kid again. he can and will turn anything into a competition (only if the situation calls for it though!), and every time he intends to do this he's silently repeating the words take the bait, take the bait, take the bait in hopes of seeing your infamous eye roll followed by an "oh, you're on, sully."

gives you nicknames. as much as he likes the way your name rolls off his tongue, he loves the reaction you give him when he uses a nickname instead. at first he called you them to see you get flustered, but it soon became a sacred thing between the two of you. examples include (but aren't limited to!) my love, pretty girl, and babe.

his tail reveals EVERYTHING. no matter what he is feeling and/or trying to mask, his tail will give him away. every. time. for example, if he has noticed another na'vi get a little too 'friendly' with your smiling figure—this includes getting in your personal space or even touching you out of excitement—he won't outright say that he's jealous. oh no, this man will just let his gaze flicker between you both until you eventually return to him. and, of course, you notice his stiff stature, locked jaw, and swishing tail as you approach an obviously jealous neteyam.

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burning-midnight · 1 year

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eye-opening (sfw)

neteyam x omaticayan reader

You and Neteyam have been instructed to go hunting together, and Neteyam is nervoussss AHHH

a/n: this is my first ever fic so pls be nice!! also feel free to give me feedback in the comments or through my ask button as well as ideas for new stuff :) this is in neteyam's POV and it's him realising he likes you 🤭 i'm just tryna ease into it so no dirty smut YET!! lmk how you feel!

The cool forest breeze Eywa provided was a sweet relief to the humidity of the atmosphere. With a bow and arrows slung over my back, y/n and i moved swiftly and quietly through the terrain. I took in all the beautiful flora of my home; it was becoming darker as we continued to hunt for our family's meals, and the enchanting bioluminescence became brighter.

Y/n was striding gracefully ahead, leading us. Glowing white freckles appeared on her lean body, like an artist flecked with paint. I couldn't help but stare at her, and something unfamiliar fluttered in my stomach. Focus I thought, after almost tripping over my own feet for the third time in a row.

"Hurry up, Neteyam! I don't have all eclipse to wait for your slow ass to catch up to me," y/n exclaimed, a teasing smile playing on her full lips.

Full lips?? What the hell is going on me with me?! This was happening more and more while I was around y/n and it was freaking me out. A look, a smile, a laugh from her that I caused had my cheeks burning and my heart pounding, that same unfamiliar feeling in my gut. This girl, that I had known for forever, that I had teased and chased and spoke with such lightness to. Were we the best of friends? No, I definitely was not her first choice for company, but we were instructed by our parents that it was our turn to go out hunting. Alone. Together. The thought had my palms sweating. She, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the same aversion to the idea, giving me an easy smile and handing me a bow.

We had been travelling mostly in silence, until the overwhelming feeling to fill it forced me to say: "Hey y/n I-"

"Shh!" she hissed, holding up a hand to silence me.

Excellent timing, idiot.

In two silent strides, we reached a shrub to hide behind, bows now off our back and in our hands. I followed y/n's gaze to the clearing, where a small body of water was occupied by a Hexapede. In a matter of seconds, y/n draws, aims and kills the animal with perfect technique, reminiscent of the years spent honing her skill. Her eyes had a deathly focus that only came out during hunting or flying. It was the only time her bright golden eyes darkened, eyebrow muscles slightly drawn together, lips pursed in a thin line. She was devestatingly beautiful.

She moved swiftly towards the dying animal, quietly whimpering with the poison-dipped arrow sticking out of it’s mid-section. I followed quickly behind her. A lock of long dark hair fell in front of her face as she drew her smooth knife from her belt and murmured the death prayer. “Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo,” I see you, brother, and I thank you. She gave a slight grunt as she pierced the Hexapede’s skin and the whimpering stopped. She continued:

“Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì,” Your spirit will run with Eywa, while your body will remain and become part of the People. She gently pulled the arrow out of the animal and sheathed her knife.

Even in conducting such a brutal task, she was so graceful, so perfect.

“The oh so scary y/n. You wouldn’t dare mess with her,” I teased, trying to ease the nervous tension that only I seemed to feel, but the words didn’t come out as naturally as they would have normally, if she hadn’t looked up with a playful smirk, the dark intensity now gone from her disposition, replaced by her natural entrancing way of being. It drove me crazy.

“There you are,” she said, grinning. “I was worried that you were mad at me by how quiet you were being on our journey.” Her smile wavered; was she was actually worried? Did she really care?

I quickly reassured her, “I could never be mad at you, y/n,” it felt like her eyes could see the hidden meaning behind my words. I scrambled to find something else to say, “who else would I annoy with my beautiful face and charming wit?” I forced a smile and tried to hold eye contact, it felt like my heart would explode from how fast it beated. She rolled her eyes and chuckled, still grinning. “That’s what you think, huh?” She nudged me with her elbow, and I thought I caught her glance down at my mouth.

“I don’t think this, y/n. I know,” I grabbed at her tail, causing her to jump back and squeal. A determined look came over her face as she said, “oh, you wanna play that game, huh?”

“So what if I do?” I challenged, absolutely knowing what I was getting myself into. She beamed and lunged at me.

We rolled around, giggling like children. It felt so good, even if I slightly shook with anxious energy. When we paused, I had y/n’s hands in my own, held together to stop her from retaliating as I was positioned on top of her, panting. The task we were assigned was forgotten. We were both still smiling as we looked at each other. She sighed. She smelled of citrus and earth and it intoxicated me as it filled my lungs. We were centimeters apart, so close we shared breath. Y/n’s smile was now gone, and I was worried I had made her uncomfortable. Let go of her and jumped up, stomach making backflips.

She stood up slower, something etched on her face that I couldn’t read. I turned around and picked up the dead Hexapede, realising that it was getting late and not wanting to toy with my father’s patience. “Let’s go,” I said, avoiding eye contact.

We walked back to our home without another word.

AHH I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

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burning-midnight · 1 year

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WHEN YOU SLEEP (neteyam!)

content — fluff tehe. idk this is short but i was in my feels and i wanna be loved and adored while i sleep peacefully >:( not proofread bc i just got off of work and im sleep deprived

you overwhelm him. every single thing about you sends him into overdrive and he can't stand it. he can't stand the effect you have on him, but more importantly? he can't stand the way he loves it.

this is a realization that has only hit him when you fall asleep next to him for the first time. minutes before you claimed that you were 'wide awake and listening to every word he said' but your efforts to remain conscious for the boy beside you went in vain. but you've blessed him with the sight before him so he will let it slide this once.

the way your chest rises and falls ever so slightly to the point where he rests his palm on the muscle to be sure that you are still breathing for him. the almost incomprehensible mumbles of his name that leaves your lips ever now and then. your hand that pats around to feel for him because even in a state of unconsciousness, you still search for your love.

neteyam can't even begin to wrap his mind around how it's possible to feel such things for someone. he's so irreparably and terrifyingly in love with you that it almost seems immoral. the confirmation alone makes his heart rate speed up and his breath hitch.

he comes to the conclusion that you don't belong here. there isn't a planet floating around in existence that deserves your grace upon it. you belong somewhere beautiful and unreachable. you should be amongst the stars, tangled somewhere in constellations to be adored by everyone.

even then, he closes his eyes every now and then and personally thanks eywa for blessing him with you. you as a person and your existence as well. without you, he is nothing because from the day you offered your heart to him, he's held it dear, combining every ounce of love with his own to the point that you feel like one. this reminds him to prepare for the day you ever disappear from his life as it will be the same day he disappears with you.

throughout your relationship, he's drilled quite a few things inside of that pretty head of yours, making sure that you won't ever forget, one being that you have a beautiful heart. one that was shaped, caressed and sent out into the universe by eywa alone. 'the epitome of a heart of gold' he says, to which you respond 'i only shine for you'. he calls you cringe and kisses you directly after.

he takes another good look at you, admiring the way the residence of sleep makes you look so innocent and pure. he doesn't realize that he's smiling until his cheekbones start to sting from the over contracting.

with one last glance, he allows himself to rest alongside you, pulling you impossibly closer to him, basking in the way your heartbeats synchronize and builds a rhythm, beating to the sound of your shared love.

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burning-midnight · 1 year

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untitled bc yeah

pairing jake sully x na’vi!reader (female coded)

warning(s) nsfw, minors dni, oral, kinda na’vi heat?

author note this was literally going to be in a fanfic i was writing, but then, i like scrapped it and wrote this in thirty minutes. lol, is kitty offensive? jake’s great great great grandparents x20 was gen z. think on that. this is actually like crack? like crack wit smut? idk. enjoy i guess. jake’s pussy whipped, sooo. lol accidental third person? well, its third person limited, bc it’s jake pov? that happened accidentally tho. soz <33 unedited … yeah <33 my descriptions are actually shit and i think i gave jake adhd? lowercase very much not intended. i spent too much words on fucking silk. that had no reason being there :) it was fun tho. somehow past tense but not? idk not edited so yeah. enjoy again ig.

that small area, filled with overgrown trees, bushes and plants, lush greens and illuminating purples, had already been claimed before jake stumbled into it. it was hard to find, and it had been a mistake on his part in finding it, he’d took a tumble from the tall trees, fell through some pretty hard branches, and landed before the slender covered entrance. at first, jake thought he was looking at cloth, that somehow the na’vi had created silk fabric. he’d touch it, shocked and slightly excited, only to feel as if he’d touched a spiderweb. the silk, he’d realized, was natural — made from a bug larvae, most likely. jake had pushed the silk aside to the reveal small area. the ground was the most softest marsh he’d ever stepped on, nearly tickling his feet when he dragged them. the plants, the bushes, the trees, everything was alive and glowing, the ground tracking his footprints, it was nothing short of amazing.

he’d turned to leave, wondering if neytiri had ever been here, when his ears perks up. the tall tale sound of a hiss. it sounds like bees in someone’s throat, and escapes in a bone-chilling sound that even now, as a true na’vi and could very much make the sound himself, leaves him nervous and admittedly a little weak in the knees. he could remember when meeting the clans with tsu’tey and neytiri, asking them to fight the humans, he would steel himself when hearing it. there were so many different sounding hisses, and yet jake thinks his clan took the cake for the scariest ones.

he shakes his head. the point being, the sound makes his hairs stand and his tail to swish nervously. he turns, looking up to see a na’vi woman, an omaticayan, squatting in one of the lower branches covered in illuminated moss. she holds a dagger carved from their newest hometree, after many months of searching, tsu’tey found one suitable for their many people. she hisses again, defensive, and he smells it then. it’s like a light switch goes off in his mind. the reason he hadn’t seen neytiri, or any of the unmated women, it was the change of the tide — they called it — and when that happens, unmated na’vi women go into heat.

it’s also the reason he hadn’t seen tsu’tey all day. it makes sense now, he honestly thought they were avoiding him. he wants to slap himself now. how disrespectful of him to stumble into a woman’s marked territory, during her heat no less. he holds his hands up and walks backward, barely withholding a flinch when she hisses again.

“uh, sorry, ma’am. so sorry, didn’t mean to … what’s the word? hm, uh, embark? no, definitely not the word. uh. sorry to invade your territory?” he backs away slowly, least he accidentally starts a chase he did not want. “i’m just gonna—”

“are you mated, toruk makto?” compared to her hiss, her voice is quiet nice, hm, like honey he thinks, smooth sounding, sweet tasting, almost like her scent—he snaps out of it. her words correlate in his mind.

he honestly forgot he was the toruk makto for a moment. the war had been months ago, and despite the fact that many people won’t let him forget that he was the sixth, it was easy to forget when people got over the awe. got over the awe and saw that he was really just a clumsy guy, with a too big heart, a little too smart mouthed, and great enough warrior. he takes pride in being the head warrior, just beneath tsu’tey.

“no…?”

“was that a question, toruk makto?”

“no?” he looks around for a moment, before back to the woman. he noticed it then, she was actually quite beautiful. huh. her hair wasn’t braided, and from the slight waves, he assumed she’d just taken them down. oh, he abruptly looks away. she wore the customary loincloth, yet only a single beaded necklace, with tiny beads extending from it like dripping water, covered her nipples.

“do you want a mate?”

now that he thinks of it. he hadn’t really been looking for someone to mate with forever. once he realized neytiri was destined for tsu’tey, and they had some odd partnership going on between them—he got over that crush painstakingly slow. not to mention, tsu’tey could be scary, and jake didn’t want to mess up his position as the next olo’eyktan. no, no, jake wasn’t looking for anyone, despite the obvious looks he was receiving. he looked back to the woman, she was staring at him with clear eyes. wait. . . was she offering?

“what’s your name?” he questioned, dropping his hands when realized he still hand them up like a idiot.

“(name) te tshaka de mo’at’ite,” she says, confidently. he blinks. now, why has he heard that name before? oh, oh! the mystery woman! he remembers it clear as day now. the younger sister of the three sisters, the deceased one, the next tsahik one, and the mysterious one. that’s what, he couldn’t even remember the dead avatar driver’s name now, had said, anyway. the avatar driver had thought he was being funny, until grace practically kicked his ass and nearly cut him off.

jake couldn’t for the life of him remember seeing her, he could remember hearing her name being called, her voice talking, but she was never in sight. “neytiri’s sister?”

“yes, neytiri is my older sister by a single cycle,” she grits her teeth, a hand briefly pushing at her lower belly. “you did not answer my question, toruk makto. do you want a mate?”

“uh, are you sure this isn’t your heat talking?” jake couldn’t help but wonder. what if it was someone else that barged in, would she say the same?

“i have seen you—”

“you have?” jake raises a brow.

“i have watched you—”

“you have?” jake raises both brows.

“i have followed you—”

“you have?” jake couldn’t help the voice crack or raise in pitch. he never noticed anyone following him. oh man, this shouldn’t be as flattering as he’s taking it.

“i decided that i will have you,” she finishes, not an ounce concerned with just how odd she sounds. she is confident, jake will give her that, to outright tell someone that you will have them is ballsy.

“you will?”

“I will. I am glad it was you who stumbled upon my thicket. otherwise, i would have injuried them.”

well, that settles it. jake always liked a woman who could kill him, and well, (name) looks fierce and ready to kill him. besides, jake’s a simple man, someone willingly to be with him? forever? hah, if his old buddies from earth could see him now. they were always saying jake would never find a girl or guy, he wasn’t the best at flirting.

“well, here i am, have me?” he understands his old buddies, now. he cringes, by eywa, did i really say that?

(name) gives a rich laugh, it causes a shiver to run down his spine, and he only has half a second to catch the lunging woman. they tumble through the soft marsh, nearly sinking into it as she settles quite contently on his lap. she brings her quene around, and jake does the same, watching in morbid fascination as the tendrils coil and link around the other.

it only takes a second for their minds to connect, emotions bursting full and richly around their interlinked minds. there’s no love there, not yet at least, but its overwhelming, heartwarming and thrilling all at once. he could feel her brushing against his mind, squeezing around his brain, settling into the missing blanks, melting into the crevices and nooks. it feels good, it feels right, and he’s suddenly heavily aware of the stabbing pain in her lower belly. amazing how she kept a clear mind with that amount of pain, geez.

he wonders, briefly, if this would have felt more special if they took things slow. but then, he’s struck by unbridled lust, and forgets his wonderings. well, it’s been years since he’s last did anything, really, and her scent was starting to coat the air thickly.

“so,” jake starts awkwardly. does this count as a one night stand, we just met, and now we’re about— his thoughts blank when she grabs his hands, pressing them against her tits. the beads dig into his skin for a moment, but they’re easily removed, and suddenly it’s skin on skin contact. he squeezes, instinctively really, and draws out a breathy whimper from (name). his eyes widens briefly, and he feels like inexperienced teenage boy again with his fast he hardens.

she must have felt him, there’s no way she hadn’t, her hips move upwards slightly, then back down. it’s his turn to whimper at the friction of the cloth and the pressure of her weight on him, practically suffocating his cock. he decides, last minute, to give her perky nipples a little twist and he savors her sounds. she really did sound good, like — his eyes caught the silk curtain swaying gently — like honey dripping onto silk.

her scent rolls around his nose, strong, thick, and heady. he rolls them over without a second thought, hands sliding down to her loincloth. his eyes meet her’s, and he raises a brow. “may i?”

she twists her hips a little, impatience nudges against his mind, “please,” she purrs, litreally, it starts in her chest and settles in her throat. like a cat. like a kitty. oh, he shudders.

he makes easy work to untie the strings, the cloth falling away aimlessly, and that is all it takes for her arousal to truly be smelt. he gulps, swallows harshly, gulps again. shit, is it hot? why does it feel like his control is breaking? her inner thighs were glistening and as she happily, and proudly spreads her legs, he couldn’t help the groan of utter pain. his cock throb painfully, his chest ache painfully, this has to be a crime. he’d never once in his life seen a cunt so pretty.

his mouth waters, and he swallows again, least he starts drooling everywhere. he knows that wouldn’t be an appetizing sight. he shakes his head, back on track. he clenches his fingers, before scooting himself back, settling on his belly, and eye level with this beautiful, beautiful cunt.

“pretty,” he unconsciously mutters, mesmerized. her pink bud peeking out between her puffy lips, his eyes catching sight of tiny droplets sliding down and disappearing into the marsh below them. “god, such a pretty pussy.” it felt wrong to call upon eywa, what if she heard? what if she saw? he doesn’t think the mother goddess needs to see this.

“hurry, jake,” she whines above him, twisting her hips again, and his eyes tracks the movements. she’s practically waving her cunt in his face. he groans.

“patience, kitty,” he mutters, debating if he should eat or finger, hm. shit, he really wants to taste her. “you want me to touch you?”

“yes, please,” she whispers, sounding shy all of a sudden. he chuckles at that, barely dodging the thump from her tail against his face.

jake uses his index and thumb to spread her puffy lips, his eyes flutter, his breathing is caught, he could die right here, he could die a happy man right here, right now. jake can’t even call it glistening anymore, she’s practically a river, so wet, dripping and dripping, her pretty hole clenching around nothing.

he leans forward, flattening his tongue, and giving her a generous swipe. her taste melts on his tongue, heady and sweet all at once, he swallows like a man starved and does it again. his tongue nudging against her hole, catching the juices that exit. “ooh, fuck, you taste so good, babygirl,” he groans. he really feels like praying.

“j-jake,” her whimpers and mewls were like music to his ears, and the moment she grips his hair, his hips jerk and he has no choice but to eat her like a man straved. he slurps as much of her juices as he could, before turning his attention to her neglected bud, swirling around the engorged bud slowly, eyes fluttering open to watch the way her body responded.

he swirls on the left side, her belly clenches. he swirls on the right side, her thighs shudder against his head, a true moan ripped from her throat. “so pretty, you moan so prettily,” he grins against her cunt and attacks that spot with vengence.

he uses his free hand to wrap around her thigh, prying it open as they begin to close around his head. she shudders above him, fingers tightening around his hair, pretty sounds trembling from her lips. he swirls and slurps, sucks and nips, and he could only feel himself growing harder by the second. “j-jake—haah!—m’gonna cum!” she warns, spreading her legs a little wider and practically shoving her cunt into his face, and he happily takes advantage of it.

he wraps his arms underneath her thighs, hands settling on her hips in soft grip, locking her in place as he brings her closer and closer to her release. she’s not quiet anymore, sounds ringing above them, her mind is blissful against his — thinking of nothing but the strings of pleasure. it only takes a well placed swipe of his tongue, a tiny nip of his fangs and—

“j-jake—m’cumming!” she cums with a sequel, thighs nearly locking around his head, but he grabs them in time. he’d seen what a na’vi women’s thighs could do to a head. he happily licks up the steady trail of white leaking from her hole, listening to her soft whimpers and satisfied purrs.

“good, kitty?” he asks, propping up on his elbows to get a good look at her. he nearly starts kicking his feet at the satisfied expression on her beautiful face.

“mhm, very good, jake,” she grins, fangs on display, and goddamnit, he’s going to burst from that image alone.

“you want some more, pretty girl?”

her cheeks bloom like anemones, eyes casting downwards, and her grin turning shy. she’s so fucking cute, it hurts, really. “i need your cock, jake.”

“oh?” he raised a brow, condescendingly, “you need it?” she nods, eagerly. “if you didn’t need it, babygirl, would you want it?”

“yes,” she shudders, “please, jake.”

“hm, let me see,” he mutters, dragging himself onto his hunches. he chuckles when she props up on her elbows eagerly, watching his fingers untie his loincloth with lustful eyes. he sighs when the cool air hits his cock, the tip an angered magenta and leaking clear pre-cum. air sucks through his teeth when she reaches forward, grabbing his cock in a tight grasp. “careful, kitty, don’t hold too tight for me, yeah?”

she leans down, mouth dropping open, and he stops her, index underneath her chin. “later, pretty girl,” he promises.

her lips pout, slick from spit and brusied from biting, “but, you—”

he gives a quiet tut, “i’ll train your pretty throat for me, later. right now,” he grabs her waist, forcing her on to her back. she gives a startled look, pretty eyes wide, and mouth popping open. “i need to fuck your fat cunt, until the only thing you remember is my name, hm?”

she shudders, hands reaching for his. “please,” she begs prettily.

ugh, he hopes na’vi can’t have heart attacks.

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burning-midnight · 1 year

Text

Jake Sully Is A Jealous Man

𓆩♡𓆪— avatar one’s jake sully x na’vi fem! reader

𓆩♡𓆪— synopsis: your boyfriend doesn’t like you talking to other men, especially when he knows that they want you. You’re just to oblivious to see.

𓆩♡𓆪— warnings: spelling mistakes, jealous sex, rough sex, jake wants you to know that you’re his, slight daddy kink, slight hair pulling, finger sucking, choking, a few praises here and there, a pervy oc, possibly bad writing cause tumblr ate half for no reason, but enjoy! ><

𓆩♡𓆪— note: I plan to write a second version of this but much rougher and with a way angrier jake

Okay let’s talk about Jake Sully and jealous sex. This man would be so calm as he walks up to you, making sure to rest his hand on your waist as he eyes the na’vi infront of you.

He tilts his head, harshly glaring at the man before you while you stood completely oblivious to the two males’ interaction. “Who’s this sweetheart?” His voice deep and gruff, leaning down slightly to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

You beamed, a wide smile on your face as you introduced your boyfriend to your new friend. “This is Aysus! Aysus, meet my boyfriend Jake.”

Jake smirked as he watched the young na’vi swallow hard, looking around nervously before he decided to speak up. “W-well uh, it’s nice meeting you Y/n” he stuttered, sending a quick glance in your boyfriend’s direction before scurrying away.

Watching as Aysus practically tripped over his feet in an attempt to get away, you turned to Jake with a frown, “look, you scared him away.” You crossed your arms with a pout, yelping when you felt Jake’s hand make its way to your hair, tugging your head back so that you were forced to look up at him, “good,” was all he said before letting his lips capture yours hungrily.

The kiss was rough. A soft moan emitting from your throat as it deepened. His hands moved from your hair to your waist, picking you up with ease. He was so much bigger than you, stronger than you, and he loved it. You were his to protect and his to ruin. You may have been tall like every other na'vi out there, but he was taller, and he took pride in that. Standing a good three feet above your height.

You were pushed up against a tree in an instant, your hands wrapping around your boyfriend's neck as his mouth kissed down yours, biting and sucking until your pretty blue skin was adorned with his marks. You mewled as he lowered his head to your breasts, sucking one into his mouth while his hot tongue toyed with your sensitive nipple.

Your head fell forward onto Jake's shoulder with a whine, hands reaching to tug at his hair with silent plead, breathing speeding up as he continued his torture to your boobs. Jake's hand squeezed your ass firmly, letting go of your soft breast with a pop as he groaned. "you belong to me baby, every single part of you.." his hands made their way back up your body, settling for gripping onto your hips tightly in order to keep you up, "..belongs to me, fuck."

With that your boyfriend had buried himself deep inside your tight cunt, guiding your hips up and down his cock as he thrusted upwards into you simultaneously. You began to moan loudly, letting out little cries of pleasure each time you felt him slam into you.

He was going so fast, your body moving rhythmically with the movements of his hips. His right hand leaving your hip, his left one being more than enough to keep bouncing you on his dick. You whimpered loudly when he looked into your eyes, his holding nothing but want and lust.

You felt Jake’s thumb brush against your lips, immediately parting them as he silenced you with his fingers down your throat. The na'vi man was filled with carnal desire as he sped his pace up, hips meeting yours mercilessly as you arched your back, the coarseness of the tree being of no bother to you. You were so intoxicated by his touch, heat taking over your body as your boyfriend fucked you into oblivion.

Jake watched as you finally began to lose control, his eyes never leaving yours as he gave you the most sinful smirk. You couldn't focus anymore, your eyes squeezing shut as you clenched your thighs around his waist, nails raking desperately down his back.

You were thankful for his fingers in that moment, successfully muffling all your moans and cries. “Aw poor baby” he husked into your ear, biting on your lobe before he chuckled “Look at how much of a mess you’re becoming for daddy. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, got it?”

Your brain was too fuzzy to understand any of his words, nodding your head lazily as you babbled an incoherent “yes d-daddy” around his fingers. You were too drunk off of the pure ecstasy and bliss you felt in that moment.

In less than a second, Jake’s hand relocated to your throat, applying little pressure as he left a sloppy kiss to your drool filled lips.

“C’mon, let them hear you. Let him know exactly who’s fucking you dumb right now. Let him know who fucking owns both you and your little pussy” His eyes darkened as he growled, changing his pace once again so that the sounds of both your hips colliding filled the once peaceful forest.

This time you were screaming, body shaking as you choked on your tears. God it felt so good. He felt so good. You were both sure that the entire village could hear your loud moans and sobs of his name.

Jake was pounding into you so franticly, his body becoming attractively sweaty as he nipped at your neck, grunting out little “good girl” ‘s before tightening his hold on your neck. “That’s it baby, taking me so damn well, gonna cum for daddy yeah?”

That was all it took for the coil to snap, body trembling uncontrollably as you dissolved into pleasure. You felt your legs instinctively tighten even more around his slender waist, your pussy clenching hard around his cock as you spasmed. And with eyes rolling back and toes curling, you fell apart.

“Fuck Jake- fuck,” you cried, vision blurring as you came, squirting almost endlessly onto him, the force of your orgasm threatening to make his cock slip out. Your boyfriend was panting as his jaw grew slack, his eye contact so intense that you clenched around him once more.

Jake moaned, head falling back while he let out a loud breath. “Fucking mine baby, you’re all fucking mine.” He made sure to match his thrusts with each word, trying to engrave his message into that tiny little brain of yours.

Jake sully was a possessive man. And he would gladly remind you of it every single day. So as he let out an animalistic growl, thrusting into you one last time before pulling out, letting his thick cum spurt onto your perfect tits.. it was a surprise that he didn’t cum in you instead, impregnating you with his seed and ensuring that you were his forever. But that time would come soon enough.

You were breathless, panting heavily as you felt yourself become light headed, sighing softly as you rested your head against his broad shoulder. Jake smiled at you, placing a kiss onto your sweaty forehead as he secured you in his hold, "always taking me so good, i love you so fucking much baby."

You nuzzled deeper into the crook of his neck, mumbling a small "mm, love you more." Your boyfriend laughed at those words, "sorry love, but that's just not possible" he held you tight before beginning to walk you guys back home, whispering sweet words of praises and admiration in your ear. Jake watched as you dozed off into his arms, completely missing the way he warned you to stop talking to your new friend.

He was going to take care of you, he was going to show you that he loved you like he always did. But he was also going to remind you again and again of just who you belonged to.

In the shadows Aysus stood, rock hard as he replayed the erotic scene in his head. He didn’t just want you.. he wanted Jake. But he knew that it was almost impossible to achieve..

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burning-midnight · 1 year

Text

The Songcord

Neteyam × female! Omaticaya! Reader

Some believe waiting is the strongest act of love one could ever do, for time is ever so ungrateful and cruel that it never hesitates to tear apart longing lovers. But when the pain of loss is too much to bear, perhaps one more glimpse at him could mend your broken heart.

Word count: 2.5k

Tags: angst, mentions of blood, mentions of death, soft Neteyam that dislikes killing and all that stuff.

A/n: Hello again! First of all, I'd like to thank you all for supporting the last post I made! I received a couple of requests, and I'll try to get to them as soon as possible! If any of you wish to make a request, I'd be glad to receive it! Anyway, remember reader's name is Zoraya, and also I would recommend you to listen to 'The songcord' by Zoe Saldana while reading this, it's a beautiful song :)

It had been a while since you last saw Neteyam.

Perhaps such a turn of events was for the best. Not knowing about him, not speaking to him, not touching him, not seeing him, made the whole situation more bearable, if only a little. Yet your mind couldn't help but wander everywhere but on the tasks you had to get done. Wander back to when you would look at him and smile without this pain in your woeful chest, when the two of you would laugh over his pitiful attempt at braiding your hair, when he would carry you around on his back because he knew how much you enjoyed it, back when your heart didn't seem to burn whenever you laid eyes on him.

He used to swear you two would stay together forever. Back in your childhood days, on the most distant memories your tired brain can still fathom, Neteyam often mentioned how he wished to be your loyal knight, like those his father used to tell him about in fairytales. Only the best of knights is suited for a princess such as Zora, he would repeat, before taking your hand and running off towards the forest. And as little time went on, Neteyam pronounced, now with a smidge more of common sense, that, rather, he wished for you to be his bride. For you to be his.

Perhaps neither of you understood the weight of such claims all those years ago, however, you would always answer with an enthusiastic nod, and a big smile on your face.

Since those days you knew you were betrothed to Neteyam. At least you felt like you were, even after he grew up and, little by little, stopped bringing up the idea.

In time, his eyes darkened, tainted and forever stained with burden, with responsibility and a duty that, one day, would abruptly befall onto his shoulders. And his hands –before soft and tender– dripped blood since youth, blood of his enemies, carrying on his palm yet another burden; the burden of murder. Of spilling the blood of those weaker than him, unable to stand against a trained warrior such as himself.

You still remember the first time he killed. A memory ever so vivid that you still carry it within your skin. You awaited his return, expectant, scared, for he always expressed with adamant regret how he wished not to rip out someone's soul out of their body, a brutal, cruel act that, according to him and his soft heart, he never wished to commit unless necessary. Yet he was commanded to do so. And so he did. For he was expected to do it, because he is Neteyam Sully, the firstborn.

That day, he returned to you first –before even reporting to his father– in the middle of the night, crestfallen, regretful, woeful and empty, oh so empty he could only look at you with those dark eyes of lacking color. Covered in blood that wasn't even his.

No words were exchanged that night. He wasn't even able to muster the strength of cleaning himself up, which is why you did, and with a wet, warm cloth, you wished to cleanse both the stain of blood on his skin, and the stain of pain in his heart.

He was always so gentle, so kind hearted and benign, that it hurt your soul to see him so utterly shattered. So delved in his misery, in a weight so heavy upon his back that made him crack.

That cold night, Neteyam held you closer than he ever had, as if you would get snatched from him for eternity. He placed his trembling, bloodstained hands on your waist, clinging to your warmth with such desperation that had you cradling his head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat being the sole anchor that refrained him from falling apart.

And such encounters continued for a long time, for Neteyam was strong at fights, yet weak at heart. A cursed man, so young yet so haunted. Burdened since birth, condemned since the day he opened his very eyes, all for being a Sully; for being the firstborn.

Thoughts about him swallowed you whole, flooded your brain and drove you mad, mad from love? Who knows. You were losing your mind, that's for sure. Maybe you wouldn't mind such a thing, if at least you had him by your side, if at least you knew he was still alive and well, and if at least you knew how his thoughts had been treating him as of late.

Little more could you do than to cling merely onto a hazy remembrance of him, promising the world to you once he returned.

Once he returned…

Then again… how long has it been…?

The Sully family had been away for more moons than you can count, perhaps even years, and with each passing day, the unbearable pain of getting left behind by your loved one left you dwindling. So much so that the image of Neteyam in your head started fading in time. The thought of forgetting his face terrified you, for it was tied to the idea of permanently losing him; of losing the hope of living the happy life he told you about before he left, a long time ago. It petrified you so much that you found it in yourself to try and draw him, draw what hazy details you remembered of him and of his kind features, to try and at the very least commit him into paper. Perhaps that way… you wouldn't forget. You attempted such portraits many times, yet upon glancing at the finished piece, you just knew something was missing, something was wrong, that is not Neteyam.

And then one day you finally realized. You forgot how he looked. Not only that, but the sound of his voice vanished from your memories. Finally, the only thing left of him you had was the songcord, which he promised would be the beginning of your story together just before leaving you behind.

Time never stopped, and as such, neither did your longing. Everyone knew this yet you were already of age, older, actually, for you were not betrothed out of respect to your decision and Neteyam's of waiting for his return to become his mate.

To your dismay, such an event never transpired, so you were soon to be betrothed to a good male of the tribe. A kind na'vi who knew beforehand that your heart already belonged elsewhere, in the hands of another man, despite the time that passed.

Yes. You hadn't seen Neteyam in a while. In years. Which perhaps made your betrothal more bearable. Yet, even then, you couldn't stop thinking about him. You started to believe you never could.

And one day, the sound of a foreign Ikran was heard.

"Zoraya!" A young girl approached you frantically and out of breath, tugging desperately at your hand with an unreadable expression on her face. "In the village, the Sullys, they…!" Your eyes widened. "They have returned!"

You left out an exasperated breath, feeling your heart quickly grow mad upon the news. Your chest started feeling terribly tight, as if concealed within iron claws, so much so that it felt as if you couldn't breathe properly.

Neteyam… he… he is back…!

You dropped the basket full of fruit you held without hesitation, to proceed to run desperately towards the village with little concern of your surroundings and without care of the cut and scratches you acquired while sprinting hectically through the forest.

Neteyam… Neteyam came back to me…!

Just the thought had you increasing your speed, ignoring the fleeting pain of wounds, disregarding whatever it was that got in your path.

I want to see him…!

Upon your arrival, you quickly made your way through the crowd, squeezing between the people surrounding the family that just arrived, and letting out quick apologies to try and reach them. Reach him.

Neteyam… finally, I can tell you one more time…

You locked eyes with Neytiri.

How much I love you…!

She looked at you with misery.

Your smile quickly vanished.

The whole family was silent, staring at you with narrow eyes, gazes so pitiful that had you taking a step back, embracing yourself in nervousness.

You couldn't see Neteyam.

"Where is Neteyam?" Your voice wavered, dwindling under sad gazes and the cruel realization that he was not there.

Jake appeared crestfallen, unable to look at you in the eye once more; unable to bear your helpless expression which still tried to seek out his son.

A son that was no more.

Neytiri was the one to look at you, strong face yet weak heart –just like her son– as she locked eyes with you. She choked on her words, obvious rage and sorrow coming out of her expression.

She could only shake her head at you in regret.

Your heart shattered.

A pain like none you've ever felt in your chest got you falling expressionless to the ground, water pooling in your eyes as you grabbed your heart in misery, clinging to the songcord he gave you as you felt your heart get ripped out of your chest.

You couldn't remember more from that day. Memories faded, yet pain lived vivid within you.

You felt empty, even if he left a long time ago and you knew nothing about him, it felt as though a part of you was violently ripped out of you along with his departure.

You often wandered off alone to the spirit tree. It made you feel close to him, even though death cruelly interfered. He finally went to a place you couldn't reach, a realm so far that your feet could never touch, not as long as your lungs drew air. He left, and this time, you couldn't follow.

The tree of voices felt quiet. Awfully quiet and dreadful, as if sensing your loss and the pain dwelling in your chest.

You sat down, taking deep breaths, trying to remain calm. You couldn't stop thinking about him; your mind, stained with love, would not let you rest, would not let you go a moment without wishing to see him one last time, to finally mutter what remained untold, to tell him how much love you harbored for him ever since you were kids.

You closed your eyes, feeling the wind envelop you in its cold embrace, a surge of emotions flowing through your body and a sense of vertigo coursing through your flesh.

And then you opened your eyes.

And he was in front of you.

You were no longer under the spirit tree, rather, it seemed you were between his arms, a wet, warm cloth in your hand, while he gently placed his hand on your waist.

You still remembered that night, the night he seeked you out, covered in blood. The night he murdered for the first time.

You left out a choked sigh, looking down at him, being met with his head, gently placed on your chest.

The both of you shared a burning warmth, sitting on the floor, with you sitting on top of him, seeking the contact of skin so fervently it hurt.

Your sight wavered upon meeting his form, a striking sadness making your eyes wet with tears. You could feel him, finally, after all this time, the longing within your chest felt less heavy, yet the sense of not being able to see him again lurked deep in your head.

He held you close, strong arms surrounding you with ease, as his big palms caressed your waist with care.

"Neteyam…" you cried out in a whisper, your voice heavy with pain, which had him looking up at you, at your hurt expression.

And then you saw him, his face, and it was as if your memory never forgot about him in the slightest. You placed both hands on his cheeks, smiling weakly through your tears at him and his concerned features.

He was still as handsome as you remembered.

And he was there. He was with you, and you could feel his warmth, feel his skin against yours and, this time, it was not a distant dream.

"Why are you crying…?" He spoke so softly, so tenderly and loving and it made you shatter, realizing how deeply you missed his voice. He removed his hands from your waist, placing them below your eyes to wipe your tears with his thumb, as he worriedly scanned your face for answers.

"I'm just happy to see you." You said, unable to stop the relentless tears from falling off your face, as with your palms you held his cheeks, trying to get this last moment with him ingrained in your brain.

You would never allow yourself to forget. Not again.

"I'm happy to see you too." He said, weakly smiling at you as his forehead connected with yours.

You embraced him like you never had before, knowing this would be the last time you were ever permitted to do so, placing your head in the crook of his neck as he protectively hugged you with the same intensity.

"Neteyam?" Your voice was worn out, tired, as with your hands you clung to his back, wishing to stay inside this memory for as long as possible. He merely hummed questioningly at the call of his name, and you sighed with delight upon realizing that, finally, you could say what you wished to confess ever since he departed. "I think I'm in love with you." You faced him, a sad smile on your face. "I'm terrible, am I not?" You laughed, further attempts to wipe your tears remaining fruitless.

He looked at you tenderly, his dark eyes regaining the color they lacked, shining under your gaze.

"Hardly," He mumbled, kissing your eyes, soft lips upon your eyelids. It all felt so terribly real it made your heart stirr. "I feel the same." He all but whispered those words, and you felt your world regain a little color. "You just said it before I could." You furrowed your brows in sorrow. He loved you as well, yet a timeless force separated you both in such a cruel way, that fate would never let you stay by his side.

You sobbed at the thought, and, once more, Neteyam grabbed your cheeks between his palms in an attempt to understand the cause of your sorrow.

"Why do you cry still, my love? I'm right here. Right by your side." He exclaimed with sageness, as water flowed down your cheeks, staining his hands with your tears. You could never achieve a shared future with the man you love, he would slide from between your fingers ever so gently, and you would get left behind once more. "I'll never leave your side, yeah? I'll stay for as long as you wish. So please, don't shed tears for me."

He lied.

You could only nod, clinging to him in desperation, as you felt him vanish from between your grasp. You tried to maniacally hang onto his memory, but before you knew it, he was gone. He was not by your side anymore.

You were left alone with your thoughts again.

A pained chuckle escaped your lips.

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burning-midnight · 1 year

Note

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 brining 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 cheap 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.

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