#ave.neteyam

[avesque]

hii! would I be able to request a fic about neteyam? just pure fluff? but aged up if that makes sense like neteyam would be 19 and the reader would be the same age as well!🫶 hope you’re having a beautiful day!🫶

in the quiet of the night — neteyam

— you find out the remedy to a headache is a slow dance.

INCLUDES fem!reader, omatikaya!reader. established relationship, fluff. 1.0k words.

NOTE i love writing characters slow dancing; thank you for giving me an excuse to do so!

it is past eclipse when neteyam and the other hunters finally reached the village with a plentiful catch. the weather had drastically changed throughout the whole day, the wind biting at his face but the sun harsh on his skin. it had started a blooming headache on the back of his skull.

he would love nothing more than a peaceful rest and to come home to you but the people await, the feast just starting as the night grows deeper.

you are by his side, fixing the necklace you have weaved for him many moons ago. the place is starting to fill up as your fellow people gather around the bonfire.

he winces as a group of kids run past you, squealing in delight. it makes his head pound harder and he closes his eyes to try and ease the feeling.

“is something wrong?” your voice is like music to his ears, palms delicate against his skin as you feel his forehead.

neteyam shakes his head. “nothing bad, just a little headache.”

he cracks his eyes open to find you frowning, a worried dent in between your eyebrows. he smiles just to reassure you, cupping your face and gently rubbing away your worry.

“i am fine, tìyawn,” he promises. “it will go away soon.”

the olo’eyktan first pays gratitude to eywa for the clan’s blessing and the feast starts. the night is alive, bright yellows and orange dancing in the night, filled with laughter and the chatter of people you have known all your life.

there are girls dancing as other na’vi taps away on their instruments. a quiet laugh bubbles up your throat that has neteyam turning his gaze to you.

when you meet his curious eyes, you point somewhere a few feet from you, where lo’ak is getting dragged by a familiar girl, one you’ve heard is interested in him.

you both watch as his brother clumsily moves to the music, tripping over his feet in the process. a little ways behind them is the chief and his mate, twin smiles on their faces as they watch their youngest son. when their gazes flit in your direction, you make a decision to drag neteyam up there.

you make some flimsy little excuse to save neteyam from his agony. the tsahìk sends you and her son a worried glance but you reassure her you will take care of him as best as you can, and will call her if it ever worsens.

the walk back to your shared tent is quiet. your hands are clasped so tightly in his, snug and perfect like it was meant for him to hold all along.

“thank you,” he says into the night. you look at him, so pretty under the moons’ light, the beads in his braids reflecting the faint glow from above.

there’s a funny little smile playing on your lips. “what for?” you squeeze his hand one, two, three times.

neteyam shrugs. he squeezes your hand one, two, three times and tugs you closer. you place a palm on his chest, the other still holding his hand. a cold breeze flutters by as he rests his forehead on yours.

though this is an unusual act from your mate, you do not question him. the people are too busy and caught up in the feast, you suppose no one will come back out here this early and maybe that’s why neteyam decides to let his guard down.

you don’t notice it at first, too focused on the feel of him this close to you, but you’re moving — neteyam is moving, you realize. slowly, back and forth, a mess of feet and a shy giggle from him.

“what are we doing?” your question is laced with equal parts fondness and mirth. unsure as you are, you follow him, just as you always do, in anything and everything.

“dancing.”

you pull away, a confused little pout on your face. “this is dancing?”

he hums. your confusion doubles as he raises one arm with your hand still in his.

“turn,” he says, and you do, movements clumsy and unsure, but when you’re facing him again and he has a big smile on his face threatening to split his face in half, you will your worries away.

“this is dancing?” you reiterate.

“yes,” he muses. his smile is boyish, a little sharper on the other end, a light smirk. it is so reminiscent of the fourteen-year-old neteyam that stole your heart. “dad dances like this with mom. he says it is a sky people thing.”

“just like this?” neteyam prompts you to turn again, and you do, though he does not let go of your hands. his left arm goes over your head and, once you’re facing forward with your back to his, he pulls you closer. “without music?”

“there is music. he sings it.”

“the olo’eyktan sings?”

his chuckle is right by your ear. “hums it,” he explains.

it’s kind of awkward, lumbering away with your moves unpracticed. his hands let go and you think it’s over, but then his arms are around you, hugging you to his chest. his warmth is welcomed, body melting into his own. you lean back and rest your head on the juncture of his neck, a space you believe was molded to fit you in all ways.

it’s ironic how you were laughing at lo’ak earlier yet tripping over neteyam’s feet every now and then.

you hear him right by your ear — a deep hum, coming straight from his chest. it vibrates against your back, a soft buzz that tickles your spine.

your pair turns in a slow circle to the song he’s humming, backed by the faint hubbub from the gathering and the noise of insects around.

“is that the same song your father hums?” you tilt your head back a little.

a faint kiss is dropped on your temple before he rests his cheek there. “yes. he’s been humming it ever since i can remember.” he pauses, then, “i’ve always dreamt of doing the same someday… with the person i love.”

“well,” you nuzzle closer to him, gently nosing under his chin, “how is that dream going?”

neteyam exhales a content sigh, headache forgotten. “like i can stay like this forever.”

[avesque]

Hi can I request a Neteyam with his female mate where she goes off to explore the forest alone for ages and forgets to tell him and he can’t find her for a long time and when he does he pulls her to him in a tight hug not wanting to let go and she asks him what’s wrong, he is reluctant to tell her that he was worried about her so she comforts him by rubbing his back and cheeks and pressing her forehead against his. When they go back to their home together he doesn’t let go of her and his protective nature comes out and just wants comforting touches and soft kisses? Thanks 😊

in these arms — neteyam

INCLUDES fem!reader, omatikaya!reader. established relationship, fluff. 1.5k words.

NOTE my first request omg 🥺 i added a lil detail to emphasize neteyam’s worry for reader, i hope you don’t mind! i may have gone a lil overboard haha this was so fun to write. thank you for requesting! <3

sunlight dawns upon the tent you share with neteyam, carving shadows into corners. your eyes flutter open as light settles on your eyelids, immediately reaching over for your mate’s warmth. to your disappointment, you’re met with only his blanket.

the day has barely started yet your lover is already out and about. he probably joined the hunters for their early morning hunts. groaning, you get up and ready yourself for the day, getting giddy at the thought of greeting neteyam the moment he comes back.

you’re in the middle of weaving another bracelet for neteyam when the party arrives. you hear them first before you see them — a group of direhorses galloping, stomping across the forest floor. your beads rattle lightly in its container.

“that’s them,” neytiri says, not taking her eyes off her beadwork. a smile graces your face as you eagerly stuff your unfinished accessory in a pouch to greet neteyam.

you smother him in a hug the moment his feet hit the ground. neteyam huffs out a startled breath before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“you weren’t there when i woke up,” you complain lightly against his skin. his hold on you tightens.

neteyam pulls back slightly to look at you. soiled hands brush away stray braids on the side of your face but you let him do it anyway.

“i’m sorry, my love,” he whispers. his gaze is so soft you might melt right on the spot. “duty called.”

you let out a laugh. “i know.” then you pout, thumbing away the dirt smeared over his cheekbones. “would have liked it better if you woke me up and bid me goodbye.”

he hums. “you’d like that?”

“i’d love that.”

“okay,” he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead. “i will from now on.”

your smile is nearly blinding and neteyam thinks you have never been more beautiful. his chest floods with warmth at the light in your eyes, the bounce in your movements. he did mean to wake you up earlier but decided against it. you had looked so peaceful he did not have the heart to disrupt your much needed rest.

it has been a week of recovery for you, after all. he aches just thinking about how you’ve been bedridden the week before that due to the virus you miraculously caught. it was so severe that his father had to call his friends at the lab to help you.

neteyam had never been so helpless as he watched you moan and cry, your appetite gone and energy so depleted you cannot even sit up without support.

he opens his mouth to say something but gets interrupted by another hunter. he squeezes your waist once before letting go though still keeping you close.

“did we catch enough?” ray’ui, an omatikaya boy the same age as him, asks.

neteyam looks around. they didn’t have the usual men come for hunting this morning; some preferred to hunt in the afternoon for supper. “i think so. until for lunch, at least.”

“will you join this afternoon?”

“yes,” he nods thoughtfully. he plans to make some good dinner especially just for you to gain back the health and weight you’ve lost the past two weeks.

neteyam is called again by another na’vi before getting caught in a conversation with an elder. it’s nearing midday when kiri comes up to him with scrunched eyebrows, her hands irritatingly placed on her hips.

“have you seen y/n?”

the question makes neteyam stagger a little. he’s seen you, yes, but that was hours before. the sun is so high up in the sky now, the weather bordering on sweltering hot.

“i did… earlier, after we got back.” his eyebrows furrow. “why?”

“mother is looking for her.” kiri looks around. “you sure you haven’t seen her?”

neteyam shakes his head. an irrational fear stabs at his chest but he tries to shut it down, convincing himself you’re around here somewhere. he makes an excuse of looking for you since it’s nearing lunch. when afternoon comes and he has not seen even your shadow, he goes running to his father.

“what is it?” jake asks, eyes trained on the branch he’s buffing.

“i haven’t seen y/n since this morning.” the worry and fear bleeds into his every word, enough so that jake puts away his things. neteyam can only wonder how distressed he looks.

“i’m sure she’s—”

“neteyam!”

neteyam looks over to see ra’yui. he greets the olo’eykran before turning to him. “i’ve been looking for you. we are preparing for the hunt.”

he runs an aggravated palm over his face before sighing. “i’m sorry, i won’t be able to join you today.”

though his friend senses his frustration, he doesn’t press any further. once he’s gone, neteyam once again face his father.

“i’ve searched everywhere and i have not seen her. not even a trace. dad, please.”

he watches as his father’s resolve crumbles. he doesn’t even care how despe he looks right now as long as he can find you and make sure you’re alright.

his father has already arranged a search party for you, including the sully boys and other men. neteyam’s heartbeat seems to bleed through his eardrums the deeper they reach in the forest and still not getting a sight of you.

it’s nearing eclipse when they reach the old shack, a place his father always warned them to stay away from. his hold on his bow tightens at the realization: you aren’t here, which means you’re somewhere farther and more dangerous.

“how certain are you that she could have gone this far along?” lo’ak asks.

neteyam has no idea. his brother’s question was so stupid it made him want to lay a punch on his face.

something snaps and ruffles. the party stills. the chief raises a hand before readying his bow, aiming in the direction of the noise. the sound of leaves crunching grows closer until the bushes spit out… you.

the party simultaneously releases a big, heaving sigh of relief. neteyam almost drops down to his knees. instead, he drops his bow, surging forward and immediately cupping your face in his hands. the group slowly walks back to give you both some privacy.

“where have you been?” his question comes out much harsher than he intended. your ears fall back in your hair and it’s then he notices you’re dripping wet. your braids are drenched and rivulets of water are still caught in your skin. one slides down your temple and into his thumbs.

“what—?”

“i’m sorry, ‘teyam, i fell asleep.” your admission has him further confused.

“fell asleep?”

you nod, unable to meet his eyes. he feels you grip his arms, fingers cold against his skin.

“in the pond…”

he has so much questions but decides it can wait at home. he needs to get you warmed up fast. your company makes it back to the village just as the people are setting up the bonfire. neteyam excuses you both, heading to your shared shut.

he is quiet as he gingerly gestures for you to undress, fetching you a new top and loincloth. he helps you put them on, warm fingers leaving behind goosebumps on their wake. he then takes both of your blankets and drapes it over your shoulders.

“are you mad?” you ask meekly. it almost breaks his heart.

“i am not mad, tìyawn.” he cups your face again and your eyes flutter closed, melting into his touch. “could never be mad at you.”

“why aren’t you saying anything then?”

neteyam tries to say it, tries to articulate his thoughts. his worry, his fear. he thought of the worst things that could have happened to you. what if they weren’t able to find you? the idea alone makes his stomach curdle.

two weeks ago, you were nearly unconscious in the laboratory. and now, this?

sensing his distress, you make your way over and climb in his lap. it’s a little awkward with the blankets weighing you down but you manage to settle just right, sighing happily at the warmth emanating from neteyam’s body.

you hook your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck. his body relaxes under your touch.

your palm takes its time feeling every ridge of muscle on his back. you absentmindedly rub circles on his skin while the other caresses the back of his head.

“i am sorry for making you worry.”

lately, it seems all you do is make neteyam worry. aside from his duty to the clan, he has to deal with you on the side. the guilt makes your stomach turn.

“some kids were running,” you start explaining. “i followed them to the forest. there were these helicoradian plants and i got distracted… and then i walked some more until i got to the pond.”

“where you fell asleep?”

you nod against his shoulder. neteyam sighs.

“you were gone all day.”

“i know, my love. i must have worried you to death,” you laugh lightly. when neteyam doesn’t say anything, you try to pull him closer; to etch your apology on your skin to his. your love has never been good at expressing himself but you know him like that back of your hand.

when his arms around you tightens in answer and a delicate kiss is placed on the side of your neck, you know you’re forgiven.