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theblueflower05 · 1 year

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Fxtavang(passionate) | Part One

A/N: So this is the accumulation of multiple different ideas that I’ve had cooking since December- I somehow managed to roll them into one giant clusterfuck. Enemies to lovers(ish), A/B/O, Warrior! Reader. All of it. I hope ya'll enjoy the filth.

Word Count: 10 k+

Warnings: Talks of secondary Gender. Sexual tension. Alien Sex. Alien Genetalia. Bottom Neteyam. Subby Neteyam. Femdom. Oral sex(male recieving) Fingering(male receiving)

Summary: Neteyam can't stand you. Or at least that’s what he tells everyone else. It's getting harder to force himself to believe the lie. Omega Neteyam x Alpha! Female! Reader

Series Masterlist

Part Two>

We do not exist in

Any other instant

Here in this dimension

You and I are meant to be- Stay Ready(What a Life) Jhene Aiko, Kendrick Lamar

Life in Awa’atlu starts early, even before the rays of the sun touch the crystalline waves, the village is stirring with life. Fishermen casting their nets, sails being pulled taut. The fkio(bird-like creatures) caterwaul between each other in the Sherbert sky; the only sounds piercing the still quiet of the morning eclipse.

Neteyam had thought the forest awoke early, but no. It was no comparison to Island. The ocean never slept; the waves consistent in their movement. Rhythmic like a beating heart. He still hasn't quite gotten used to it.

This particular morning was no different.

He awoke in his corner of the family Mauri, rubbing at his sleep crusted eyes. His siblings were still asleep, tucked soundly in their blankets. His mother is molasses slow, only his father truly awake. “Too many years in the military” Jake had always claimed. He could never sleep much at all- was the first up and the last down.

Jake offers a molded clay cup full of strong, dark violet leaf tea to him, as he does everyday. Brews a pot for the family as soon as he awakes. All of his children are caffeine addicts, much to Neytiri’s chagrin.

Neteyam grumbles his gratefulness before taking it and chugging at the bitter contents. Needing the energizing boost before he starts his daily duties.

“Tonowari’s girl still riding you hard?” Jake wonders and Neteyam almost spits out his tea at the mental image it conjures.

The vulgar dreams he had just woken from.

How he wishes that you were riding him. Hard as you could. As often as possible.

He doesn't tell his father that of course, instead keeps it easy and casual. The older man is a soldier through and through and training is one of his favorite topics to discuss.

“Y/N’s not an easy mentor, no. But I enjoy the fact that she doesnt baby me”

“Yeah, she wouldn't. Her dad’s Omega, they’re not held back with kiddie gloves here. I just wanna make sure she’s not being too hard on you. I know that you didn't get along with her when we first got here-” Jake is working on repairing Tuk’s tweng, the kid is growing so fast these days. He’s not watching his eldest son's face, if he could he’d be able to see the deception clear as day on Neteyam’s expression.

“She’s fine. Our sessions are almost over. I can't say that I’ll miss them much.”

Lie. Biggest fattest lie. The words taste acidic in his mouth.

“Yeah, her and that brother of hers have an attitude, that’s for sure. Make sure to stay on her good side. She’ll be the next chief” Jake gives his eldest a pointed look and Neteyam nods.

Yes sir, noted.

Neteyam completes his morning tasks quickly. Makes sure his bed roll is tucked away, that the loincloth he selects for the day is clean and the leather straps are secured tightly. His face is washed, and braids are neat- desperately in need of maintenance, but neat. He wonders if Kiri would fix them for him, the process of it is long and grueling and she did only sort him out weeks ago-

But the saltwater is rough on his hair. He wonders if it will ever acclimate.

Lo’ak would give him shit if he was awake- not that that skxwng was ever up before the horn for communal breakfast was sounded. His little brother liked to tease Neteyam about his vanity-

“We get it. You’re pretty, bro. Why don't you put on some lipstick while you’re at it”

It had caused many a scuffle between the two, and usually ended with Neteyam pinning the younger to the ground, face down, demanding that he took it back. Lo’aks arm’s bent behind his back at precarious angles- not released until he groveled for mercy.

It was no secret that Neteyam could be…prickly about his secondary gender. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his designation, no. There was no shame in being an Omega. It was all of the stupid societal stigmas that came with it. Omegas are supposed to be soft and docile. Family oriented and submissive-

Neteyam had rebelled against it for as long as he could remember. He wasn't going to sit at home and weave blankets(although his weaving skills were admittedly par excellence). From the moment he could get his hands on a bow, he knew what his role in the clan would be.

Hunter. Warrior. Protector. Future Olo’eyktan.

He’d fought, tooth and nail, against any doubts that were thrown his way.

Dubbed the youngest Omiticaya to ever make a clean kill, his prowess on ikran back unmatched. His Iknimaya had almost been uneventful, for he’d completed any tasks thrown at him with the ease that even some twice his age didn't possess. Then, when the humans came back, resuming their reign of terror on the planet of Pandora, he’d shocked everyone again. War was not easy, but battle strategy was something that came naturally to Neteyam- he was dangerous. A weapon made of flesh gliding amongst the clouds.

All of that seemed so futile now.

Having to start fresh was painfully unfair.

It meant having to work twice as hard as any Beta or Alpha, again, to prove his worth.

He tried not to be too bitter about it, the vicious uprooting from The Forest was something that would sit in his belly like stones forever, but he couldn't dwell on it if he wanted to build a life for himself here.

“Neteyam, shouldn't you be ;eavomg soon?” Neytiri’s soft, accented voice breaks him out of his thoughts “The dawn has broken, you’ll be late for training.”

Fuck.

He snatches up his borrowed spear in a flurry of movement, eager to get down to the beach, He can't be late again.

“Eat something first, Ma ‘Itan! Where will your strength come from? I’ll make you a meal” She insists, pan searing a slab of meat from a recent hunt. Her eyes are sharp and usually he wouldn't deny her.

He’s always gone these days, before the sun fully shines. Back when the sky has broken out into stars. Keen to be on his way.

More preoccupied with training then anything else.

“I will grab something on the way, do not worry. Be back before evening eclipse, promise!” He slips, lithe and easy, out of the Mauri. Ignoring his mother's protesting hisses and his father's low chuckle.

As much as the parental love was appreciated- he always has to bite his tongue. He’s not a child, he’s nearly twenty for Christ's sake.

The netted pathways that interconnect the village had once confused him, but now he walks them surely. Knowing he wont get lost as he had in the past. Almost no one gawk's at him anymore which is admittedly nice. He’ll never quite fit in, dark indigo in a sea of teal, but he’s a familiar oddity now. Mothers no longer pull their children away when the Sully’s pass, and he even gets a few off handed waves.

He supposes it’s probably your doing.

He’d never forget the day he’d watch you tackle a warrior twice your size to the ground, your blade gleaming dangerously as you pressed it against his throat. “They are our people now! Why do you mock your own, you ignorant swine. Do you need me to teach you the meaning of Uturu? Or should I find my father and let him know that you disregard the word of Olo’eyktan?”

Neteyam’s stomach flops as he thinks back on the memory, on the look in your eyes. On the efficiency in which you commanded respect.

He both hated and admired it about you. That spitfire attitude and silver tongue.

Alpha’s like you have always turned him off; too loud and obnoxious for his taste. When you’d first met admittedly, he’d turned up his nose. Uninterested in the Alpha daughter of Olo’eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal. Even during group training, he was polite but obviously uninterested in forming any kind of friendship with you.

When you’d offered him one on one’s he’d almost declined. Only the promise of teaching him the ways of the reef warriors kept him from saying no. You’d help him pass his Metkayinan Iknimaya, that was the only reason he’s spending so much time with you.

That’s what he tells everyone.

And definitely what he tells himself.

Because surely Neteyam can't admit that he awakes in the morning over eager to see your pretty face.

That he sneaks away at night to hide among the tall overgrown palms behind the village. Biting his lips bloody as he plays with his slit until his hard cock slips free from the protection of his body…the whole time he brings himself closer to that pleasured edge all he can think about is you. Chokes on your name as he comes all over his own hands.

He forces all of that down.

He’s always been good at pretending that he doesn't have room for feelings, and between the spray of bullets and the pressure of becoming the future leader of his clan, that had been his truth. There had been no time for courting, much less mating, back home. Yeah, since he’d noticed his affinity for female Alpha’s he’d been attracted to many Omiticayan women- but nothing like this.

You’d wormed your way under his skin.

He has a terrible crush on you.

You’re waiting for him on the beach, at the edge of the village. Peeling apart pieces of a fruit, eating distractedly. When your eyes land on him they brighten with interest.

You’re gorgeous, though not at all what he was used to when it came to Alpha women.

The ones back home were tall and hard. Their beauty almost severe. At the other end of the spectrum lies you. Short and thick, your shoulders and hips wide. Your body built for the waves, the layer of blubber giving you a softness that fascinated him to no end. Your face is extremely similar to that of both your mother and sister Tsireya, features delicate and feminine. Full cheeks, plush lips and giant green eyes.

You could pass for an Omega yourself, if it wasn't for that cocksure way that you held yourself and your distinctly Alpha scent. Potent and musky. He wants to sample it from the source, press his nose against one of your scent glands. The one in your neck. Or maybe the one in your inner thigh, right between your legs-

“Good morning” he greets good naturedly as approaches. Neutral. Like you don't send him into pre-heat every time you’re around him.

You huff a little, rolling your eyes. Expression bored. Your resting bitch face rivals your mothers. “Mhmm. You’re late, again.”

“I-uh I apologize. We can train longer into the evening, to make up for it, if you wanted to” He doesn't like making excuses, but he can't exactly tell you that he was up all-night think about how well you’d fuck him. “I didn't mean to waste your time.”

You're silent for a moment, appraising him. He catches you doing it all the time, but it never gets any less nerve wrecking.-

You’d been a lot more lenient with him lately, the months of getting to know each other softening you, but still. He probably pissed you off. He needed to get it together, you were taking the time out of your busy schedule to take care of him. He’s about to tailspin into more frantic apologies when he notices your shoulders shaking.

A smile breaks across your pretty face, fangs sharp. Coy and playful- your true nature coming to the surface.

“I'm just teasing!” you laugh, eyes rolling “Come on, Tey. We spend nearly every day together and you still can't tell when I’m playing with you?”

The worst part about Neteyam’s not so little crush?

He’s pretty sure you’re aware of it.

“Ha-ha very funny Y/N. I’m barley awake, give me a fucking break” Neteyam drawls back, as he makes a start for the small sailboat that's tied to the docs.

You’d taught him how to sail early in your training, he enjoys it. It’s all muscle memory, learned skill that he’d honed after days full of island hopping. Hunting in the shallows and the deep alike, coming back with abundant hauls for the people. He wouldn't even be allowed outside the reef without you.

“Did you eat breakfast today?” You inquire, and his hands freeze mid knot.

“Not really, but I figured I’d catch something. It’s fine-”

“Here. No wonder you forest people are so damn skinny, you never eat!” you offer him the other half of the large fruit that you’d peeled. It's a simple gesture. You do it without even thinking much of it.

“Irayo ”Neteyam is sure that he’ll think about it non-stop. He takes a big bite of the sweet fruit, if only to hide his warm cheeks for a moment.

“I thought we’d work more with the Tsurak’s today. You mastered the bond, but your riding underwater still rough” You chatter mindlessly while he desperately tries not to stare at the side of your face. At the gorgeous intertwining ink of the tattoos that swirl around your cheekbone.

He’s so fucked.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The open ocean is unforgiving. There's no cover from the blistering sun as there was in the forest, no shade to hide behind. Just the wide expanse of never ending blue.

Training with you is intense. Long hours bleed away as you mold him into perfection. Correcting his form, teaching him how to move with the crests of the waves instead of against them. Tsurak riding is different from Ikran. It's more physical, he has to use every part of his body to control the squawking beast. By the end of the long day his muscles are screaming in protest.

You call it after he hits the water at an odd angle, completely knocking the breath out of himself. He can't even protest too much, instead gasping for air to refill his tired lungs.

“That was the last one, come. We’re done for the day, let's go find somewhere to do our decompressions”

There are endless islands that dot the Eastern Seaboard of Pandora. Some large with dense flora and fauna, others small barely there things that get swept away with the changing tides.

With your guideship the two of you make port on one of the smaller ones. On decent sized white sand beach with a tree line full of fruit trees. He's more than happy to plop down on the soft ground, watching as you secure the boat, throwing his arm over his head to block out the bright sun,

“Get your lazy ass up” you command him with a smile.

He groans in protest, not removing his arm.

“Build us a fire, maybe gather some fruit. Those are Yovo trees- I’m going to go hunt us some lunch” You continue not at all phased by his dramatics.

His head perks up at that, ears swiveling as he gives you a pointed look “I can hunt for myself, you know.”

He doesn't want you to think he’s useless, that he’s a needy Omega who needs an Alpha to feed him or else he’ll starve.

“I know” you respond simply. Easily. It wasn't even on your mind. “You can build fires faster than I can and those fruit are high in the trees. You know I’m shit at climbing.”

You’re not afraid to say it; that he's better at certain things. Your designation usually comes with a supersized ego. Alpha’s can do no wrong, or so they think.

It’s refreshing. Being around you is so different from anything he’s ever known.

“You’re right, your absolute shit. Go get us some lunch, I'll do the climbing so that you don't break your neck” He grumbles as he sits up and you pat his head fondly as you pass.

He can't help but watch as you go back to the water, spear in hand. The ever seductive swing of your hips. The way your wide tail sways. His fingers clench with their need to touch. He decides to put them to use elsewhere and starts on getting a fire going.

After training you always make sure the two of you decompress. It’s an important part of the day. At first it had been an oddity to him- that you were willing to waste anymore of your time on him. An hour or two of eating, and meditating. Working on breathing techniques and weaving Metkayina lore.

The closer the two of you had become, the more he looked forward to this part of the day. It felt sacred and he reveled in the intimacy of it all.

He debones and grills the succulent fish that you caught over the flames and you prepare the fruits, skinning them and cutting them up nice and small. It’s grossly domestic. He wonders if this is what life would be like with you in your Mauri. Every hour of everyday a little piece of bliss just like this.

He forces those feelings away. Or at least tries to.

The late lunch you share is delicious and Neteyam feels heavy and sated after it. You let him laze like a cat while he digests.

“Neteyam!” you suck your teeth, disapprovingly as you look over him.

“Hmm?” His yellow eyes search yours, following your line of sight. The side of his body is covered in tiny bleeding little cuts, rubbed raw and more annoying than painful. He’d had far worse. “Oh that? It’s fine, I hit the coral a couple times when I fell off Xtrala. No big deal”

The female Tsurak he’d bonded with had a bit of a wind streak. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed the challenge.

You flash your canines at him as you hiss in displeasure, reaching for your satchel. “No big deal, huh? Most of the coral out here is poisonous, you idiot. Do you not listen to a single thing I say?”

You rummage around in the bag, pulling out a jar of thick pale yellow paste. Your mother's creation, he assumes.

“They barely even sting” he insists, trying to keep the cool, calm and collected front going. You ignore him of course and dip your fingers in the mixture.

“If we don't get this on them they’ll get infected. Then my parents will give me flack for letting you get such a stupid injury” you gesture for him to come closer, to scootch right into your personal space “Come here”

Isn't it pathetic how fast he does?

Instantly maneuvering his body right to yours the moment you ask. You're sitting crisscrossed, and he falls in until his shins are almost touching your own.

You tut, eyes rolling as your hands go to his shoulders, pushing him to lie down before turning him on his side, the scratches facing up and towards you as you lean in close to inspect them. Its casual dominance, man handling him in the most gentle way.

His heartbeat starts to flutter in his throat. His tail swaying eagerly behind him, completely out of his control.

You're efficient with your fingers, smearing the concoction in a thick layer over his marred skin. It's supposed to be completely medical, friendly. Platonic.

To him it's anything but.

He can't tell if the tingles erupting all over the his skin is from the numbing effect of the cream or from you being so close to him.

“Your mom teach you how to do this?” Neteyam’s voice is low, like he doesn't want to break your concentration. That cute little crease between your brows doesn't falter, your nose scrunched up as you attend to him.

He wants to be the object of your attention like this all the time. It feels so good to have you fretting over him and only him.

“Mhmm, a good Olo’eykte knows a bit of everything. Healing has always been my sister's forte, but I can do a small amount of it here and there” you hum, your voice so sweet.

He wonders if the rest of the clan knows how soft you can be. You are the daughter of the chief, the next leader yourself. You don't let your guard down like this when the two of you are back in the village. Never, all those months ago when him and his family had arrived, would he have expected to be blessed enough to be let into your inner circle. Trusted enough to see you as you truly are.

Its hypnotic, your caring eyes. The way that you dote on him. He falls under some kind of a trance, pushing his body more into your hands. Becoming putty like as you run the tips of your fingers all over-

They stray away from his side, sprawled over his ribs. Tracing the hard lines of his strong abdominals, his sternum. Exploring with firm massaging touch. Both of your breaths hitch when you run your thumb nail over his pert nipple-

“Neteyam” you whisper, desperation laced. Your gnawing on your full bottom lip and staring down at him as though he’s one of the ocean deities you loved to talk about so much.

“You were taught well. You’re making me feel so good” He encourages you, leaning even closer, his head resting against your knee, his breath fanning against your strong calf.

This position isn't new for the two of you.

It's been happening for weeks.

You find any excuse to touch him; and he finds any to let you.

You’d always been hands on during training but your touch had started lingering on his broad shoulders, skimming down his waist. Holding him just for the sake of it- claiming you were correcting his form when really you just wanted an excuse to squeeze his supple flesh in your palms. Most days he returned to the village shivery and disoriented, throbbing between his legs.

“I make you feel good?” you inquire, a smirk marring your features. You look like your little brother. A mirror of Ao’nung. Same small mole above your lip and all.

Neteyam scoffs, turning his head before he replies “I think you know exactly how you make me feel. It’s not really fair”

He can't look at you while he speaks, instead he stares at the sky. It's getting late in the day, you’ll need to head back soon if you want to make it back to the big island before the eclipse.

“Look at me, Forest boy” you call for him, and he stubbornly keeps his gaze avoided.

He’s still pressed so close that he can feel your body warmth, your small fingers have stopped dancing along his torso. Have settled on the center of his chest, tracing mindless patterns into his dark skin.

“It’s just cruel; I know it doesn't mean anything. You don't have to worry about me getting…confused or anything” he continues, “I’ve seen you flirt with everyone like this. I know I’m not special…so you should stop distracting me”

“It’s actually you who’s distracting me. How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re so gorgeous? I promise there is no one else on the Big Island that I think is even a fraction of how special you are” it's a saccharine croon and he hisses at it. Stupid Alphas and their flirty nature. It’s maddening.

“Just on the Big Island?” comes a muttered response, low under his breath.

You giggle “Has anyone ever told you that you’re extremely dramatic?”

He sputters, eyes finally meeting yours. Challenge burning in is golden orbs “Why do you say that? Because I’m an Omega?”

A bit of the mirth leaves you, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek. Cupping it firmly, meaningfully, before you speak.

“The only one who really cares about your designation here is you. How many times have I told you that it doesn't matter to me?”

He chews it over. Your words are sincere, or at least he thinks they are. But the long decades of fighting against his inner nature won't be broken down in a matter of what? A few months with a pretty Alpha who spins pretty words?

Your tumb runs along the delicate skin under his eye before you pull away with a sigh. He chases your touch, just a little. Upset with himself and his treacherous mouth that had made you pull away.

“I know that the Omiticaya are more traditional- and I respect that. Really. But here being an Omega does not mean anything less. You are no less a warrior.No less clans member, No less a man. My father is the greatest Olo’eyktan we Metkayina have ever seen, no one undermines him just because he is Omegan. He is beloved by all” There's a fire that burns inside of you, a constant simmer. It reflects in your eyes when you speak of things your passionate about.

Your favorite hunting spear passed down from your Grandmother. Your family. Your Tulkun spirit sister that he’s yet to meet.

And him.

That passion burns bright when you talk about him.

“If anyone disrespects you, I'll slit their throats, Neteyam. You know I would” You whisper conspiratorially. The cherry on top of it all.

Is it horrible that it’s that statement that turns him on the most?

Maybe because he believes it. You’d take care of him, wouldn't you? Isn't that what you’d been trying to do since he and his family arrived?

That day you’d tackled that knothead in the middle of the village, demanding that he treat the Sullys with decency. The timbre of your screams as you berated your baby brother for leaving Lo’ak beyond the reef. Your encouraging nature, the cheers you give him and his siblings when they accomplish any small Metkayinan lesson

“Let’s not get hasty and commit murder” Neteyam starts, scared shitless. Because if you’re yanking his chain, it will hurt something fierce. He wants to let you in, if just a little “I’m still getting used to the fact that I don't have to fight so hard for respect here. I get really in my head about it sometimes,”

“No shit”

“Hey. I'm trying to thank you. For giving me some perspective”

“Hmm. Try harder, Forest boy”

Theres a moment of stillness before Neteyam reaches out slowly and grabs your hand, the one that had retreated, and places it back on his skin. Your warm palm against the smooth planes of his pec once more feels so nice.

He’s not good with his words, they get jumbled. Always had. He’d get nervous and anything he’d meant to say would come out odd and skewed. He hadn't had many real friends back in the jungle for this very reason. His awkwardness could easily be mistaken for standoffishness.

He hopes his body language is better.

You resume your exploration as though he’d never stopped you. Your fingers assaulting him once more. Slow this time. Savoring it, as though you’re scared, he’ll push you away once more- even though it’s quite the opposite really. He wants your touch back on his nipple, the nub still hard and pulsing for attention. Or maybe you’ll be bold, as usual, and trail lower…

Your fingers grasp at his jaw instead, holding his head still and at just the right angle before you lean down, so close the flat of your nose runs against his own. He prepares for your kiss, his eyes sliding closed and his lips pursing in obvious offering. He cant help but hold his breath-

The kisses he’d had in the past were messy and inexperienced, hurried and left him feeling jipped and confused.

Your mouth presses to his, moist and plush. The kiss is slow, your lips brushing his in soft little bursts, sending jolts of electricity down his spine, the possessive grip you have on his jaw unwavering. When your tongue swipes at his upper lip at the same time that you tighten your grip- his little sighs are something he can’t control. You taste good as you dominate his mouth, unhurried as you steal the air from his lungs.

Giving him just a moment to catch his breath, to push you away if he pleased, you lick at his semi chapped bottom lip, before going back in for more.

The two of you get lost in each other.

His well-built arms twine around your neck, pulling you closer, tugging you down on top of him. All that warm sun baked teal skin on his feels so nice, he hums little sounds of appreciation in between the wet smacks. Your hands aren't still for more than a few seconds at a time, they’re everywhere. Too much uncharted territory to map out. Leaving hot scorching trails all over his body. Greedy, like you can't get enough of the muscle and sinew under your fingers. When you reach for the leather straps of his tweng, he gasps, but raises his hips anyway. Fully intending on helping you get it off of him-

The com, ever present around his neck, crackles to staticky life.

“Devil Dog to Pathfinder, you read me? Over.” Neteyams fathers electronic voice breaks him from his reverie, and with a heavy sigh, he pulls away.

You grunt, moving from his mouth down the hinge of his shap jaw, nipping at the hypersensitive place behind his ear-

He can barely breathe. His head’s spinning. He’s torn, knows he needs to recompose himself enough to reply to his dad and he can't do that when you’re licking at the place behind his braids- and yet he has his hands twined in your hair. Pressing you closer. His thighs falling open, letting you slip a firm leg between them-

“Pathfinder, do you read me? Over.”

“Ugh” You groan, wrenching yourself from him, and he mourns the loss of your scorching body heat instantaneously. The breeze that runs along his form once your sticky skin leaves his makes him shiver.

His chest is heaving erratically, and he wonders if he looks as out of control as he feels. Lips swollen and spit slick and golden eyes low and fluttery.

“Answer your dad” you command, voice husky and he reaches for you again. You avoid his grabby hands, backing up on your knees with a strained giggle “Answer your dad before I spread your legs and fuck you right here, Neteyam. I’m serious”

He chokes on a groan, his teeth gritting at your vulgar words. He wants it so desperately. His cock is hard under his loincloth, he can feel it poking out from his slit. It would be so easy for you to pull it out and sit on it. His eyes slam closed, no longer able to even look at you if he has any chance of calming down.

Rotting flesh. Blown ear drums from explosions. His grandma.

He thinks of unpleasant things to get his erection to go down and wills all of his blood to stop rushing south . Musters all of the composure he can before he presses his fingers to the device on his throat and replies. “Pathfinder to Devil Dog. I read you. What do you need? Over”

“Your mom wants you to come home, she spotted a small herd of Yerik on her flight. We’re hunting tonight. Over”

Fucking hell. It’s not fair.

“On my way. Over” Neteyam wants to stay on this secluded little island with you forever. Wants to throw his com into the ocean. Instead he assures his family that he’ll be home soon.

“See ya soon, son. You sound winded. Make sure to stay hydrated. Over”

Your laughter is chiming at that last bit and Neteyam cant help but crack a smile of his own.

When he can breathe semi normally and take in his surroundings, he realizes just how much time had passed. The sky is starting to streak with darkness, the sea choppier as the nightly tide starts to roll in.

“Come on, Pathfinder. I better get you home” You taunt as you start to stand and Neteyam knows his face falls, the frown that pulls on his lips deep. He can't believe that he finally got to kiss you- and that somehow, as usual, his family stood in the way. He’d been cockblocked by his dad for fucks sake.

“I’ll never understand that blasted tawtute(human, derogatory) sorcery” You grumble, eyeing his neck suspiciously and Neteyam reaches up to run his fingers along the choker like com.

“It’s not socery, Y/N. its tech. It comes in handy…sometimes ”Not now, not when he’d finally had your tongue down his throat and your body on top of his.

“Hmm. If you say so. Let’s head out, I’d hate to face the wrath of Toruk Makto” you reach out your dainty hand, helping pull him up with a smile. Your body is small but compact, far stronger than it appears. You pull him up with ease before fretting over his skewed braids.

He tries not to preen under the attention. It feels so innocent after the way that you had been touching him just moments ago-

“Ugh. Y/N. What are you-?” He hisses as you reach between his thighs and grab his flagging bulge firmly. He’s still hot and pulsing there and the surprise pang of pleasure is almost painful.

“This is mine, huh? All because of me?” you look up at him with that smirk of yours. He can only nod, not trusting his voice. Shocked at the blatant claim that you’re lying on him.

You massage the tweng covered flesh between his legs and Neteyam just winces, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. He doesn't know if he’s going to push you away or pull you in again.

You don't say anything for a long moment, just stare into his eyes as you stroke him back to nearly full hardness before abruptly stopping. “Can I be blunt?”

He almost splutters. How much blunter can you be? You’re literally holding him by the most sensitive, secretive part of himself “Um, yes?”

“I will help you pass your Iknimaya, and then I want to court you. I can't start the courting until your rebirth from the oceans. Would that be okay with you? Because from the way you feel in my hand, I think it’s okay”

What?

Court him?

But you’re going to be the next clan leader and he’s some outsider from halfway across Pandora-

“Y/N-”

“Mmm. No. I don't want one of your lectures or for you to go into big brother mode on me. I’m simply letting you know my intentions. I’m going to shower you in gifts and knot you until you let that great big chip on your shoulders go” You promise. It’s a simple one, or at least that’s how you make it sound. He knows better. He should know better.

And yet the very idea of wearing pretty jewelry you’d crafted for him or being knotted and locked inside your tight pussy is enough to have releasing of all sense of rationality.

Neteyam can feel his ears burn and lie close to his head with embarrassment, completely flustered. “You're too much” he tries to laugh it off but that intensity about you makes his skin crawl.

“Stop pretending like you don’t enjoy it” you taunt before letting go of his hardness and bringing the warm hand up to pat at his cheek, almost condescendingly. “Get freshened up and help me cast the sails. I’ll have you back before the eclipse. I’d hate to face the wrath of Toruk Makto”

His head feels heavy and he can't quite break out of the haze you’d put him in.

He follows you like a viperwolf pup.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The daze doesn't let up.

Weeks go by and his heart can barely take it.

You do exactly what you said you would; continue to prep him for his rites, you're training more vigorous than ever. His shoulders were broader than ever, leading to a tapered waist, his form agile and efficient in the water. He’d all but mastered riding

You also shower him in gifts; ones that leave his eyes wet with grateful tears. An intricately crafted armband that drips with multicolored sea glass and looks like it took ages to make. Baskets of Melon Tree fruit and beautifully weaved blankets. His favorite gift being a new spear. The weapon much sturdier and more ornate than the hand me down, borrowed one he’d been using. He’d almost not been able to accept it, he’d shook his head and gaped at it until you kissed him silly and told him he’d need it. A true symbol of being a Reef Warrior.

Jake and Neytiri watch it all with knowing eyes. The gift giving, the looks the two of you share. The way that Neteyam sneaks away late at night and doesn't return until just before morning eclipse.

“The girl is courting you, yes? Your karyu(teacher)” Neytiri asks one night, the statement seemingly appearing out of thin air. It’s just the two of them, maintenancing the Ikran. He’s not even all that surprised at her sharp tone and knowing gaze.

He thinks that’s why your frank nature doesn't alarm him the way it might do so with others. His mother is Beta, and yet her straightforwardness rivals that of any Alpha. He’d been conditioned to headstrong women since he came out of the womb.

There’s really no point in lying “She is, yeah”

“And you are accepting it?” It’s not really phased as a question. Neytiri says it as though it is a fact, her observation skills keen.

Neteyam just shrugs, the tips of his feline ears feeling hot as they twitch.

“I thought you didn’t get along with her? You spoke of her with much disdain” his mother continues. To any it sounds like an interrogation. She hopes he knows that she just wishes to understand him better.

Neteyam feels a little guilty about that. About all of the times he had told everyone who would listen that he wanted nothing to do with you. He had been so confused about his feelings for you- had lashed out in the only way he knew how.

“I was wrong about her. She has been nothing but kind to me, and our family- . I…I didn’t know how to trust anyone here. Especially not an Alpha” Neteyam focuses on his task of oiling the leather of his Ikran riding gear as he speaks “She never makes me feel less. For being Omega”

Neytiri mulls that over. Nodding. Before responding after a moment “I know that Metkayina traditions are different but please, if you are being intimate do not feel like you cannot come to me. If you are not ready for children, I can assist with contraceptive tonics-”

It is not that he is embarrassed of these talks. Na’vi are freer with their sexuality, he wasn’t adverse to discussing it with his mom. His earthly raised father might be more hesitant, but Neytiri had raised her children to be open with her about all things.

Sex is nature, and nature is Eywa. The great mother encourages love and pleasure.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Neteyam groans irately.

That was the one promise you had yet to keep- and to be perfectly honest, it was driving him fucking crazy. You hadn't slept with him. Were trying to respect his fragile Omiticayan laurels. You wouldn't take him, no matter how much he threw himself at you.

He’s way past thinking it’s sweet that you’re trying to be respectful. He hates you for teasing him half out of his mind. “If that problem arises, I will let you know. As of now, I fear she is torturing me. And claiming it’s respect”

Neytiri laughs, wheezy and hard at her poor eldest sons predicament. In the back of her mind, she notes it. A little more open to the idea of welcoming you into her close family unit. Neytiri had been huffy that you, the daughter of the Olo’eyktan, had not begged permission to court her son to which Jake reminded her that she herself seduced him under the tree of souls all those years ago- Mo’at and Eytukan’s blessings nowhere to be found.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It had become almost a nightly routine; sneaking out as the moons hung heavy in the dark sky. The glittering stars the only light illuminating his path.

Neteyam has to wait until everyone in the pod’s asleep, the cacophony of snores his tell. Once he’s sure his family has settled into REM, he slinks out of the front entrance. Years of finely tubing his hunting skills make him silent and quick on his feet. It’s all too easy to nimbly navigate the village and escape, unknowingly, into the tree line beyond the mangroves.

It’s not far of a walk, but deep enough into the tropical trees that he wasn’t too worried about being followed. The forest is familiar to him, even though the trees are different than the ones from home. He should feel a sense of peace along all of the familiarity- and instead his stomach is filled with shimmyflies. The excitement bubbling up into his throat.

It didn’t matter how much you guys did this, snuck away to hide in the shadows, the promise of your hands on his body and your lips on his made him dizzy with want.

He finds you in the clearing that the two of you had dubbed your own; surrounded by the thickest shrubbery that acted like some sort of privacy hedge. The Pandoran flora and fauna made the space glow iridescent and neon purple in the dark night. The reason why the two of you spend so much time there is because of the patch of plush grass and sand. Perfect to lie in-

You’re lounged there. Waiting for him. Curvy body sprawled out on a crocheted blanked, looking beyond ethereal in the glow.

You stare at the stars as you often do. Powdery eyes distracted and far away, deep in your own thoughts. He wonders, as he regularly does, if the stress of it all gets to you. It certainly used to get to him back when he was being groomed to be heir of his clan. You handle pressure so well that he forgets that you’re under it constantly.

That won’t do.

They can have you in the sunshine, under the harsh glare your responsibilities are clear and you tend to them.

Under the moonlight you’re his.

He creeps, feline and silent, ever closer-

“-Forest boy!” You exclaim in alarm, trying to sit up futilely. “What?!-“

He’d leapt from the shadows lighting quick. Using your distraction against you, before you even realized he was close he was already on top of you. Pinning you to the ground. His big hands around your finned wrists.

He giggles silently, amused and smug as he sits atop your legs. “Who’s the mighty warrior, hmm?”

The snarl you give him is reactionary. Your body arches under him, iris’s gleaming dangerously. You’re all Alpha. All apex predator, hardwired to fight anyone and anything that threatened your need to be in control-

And yet you relax a moment later. Sagging underneath him.

Neteyam’s core tingles, his tail flicking behind him, exhilarated at the obvious submission.

You stare up at him, arms pinned above your head, thighs spread and as he sits between them and he tries to imprint the sight somewhere deep. You’re so gorgeous, hair in flowing dark waves around your behind your shoulders and lips parted, a pink tongue running over them repeatedly.

“Say it” it’s supposed to be a demand, but instead it falls from him in a plea.

You smirk, your features going sharp and mean and he presses down on your wrists. Leaning further down.

“Say it” it’s a hiss, his nose against yours. Spit landing on your face.

There’s a tense moment- the forest quiet and atmosphere heavy. You’re a predator but so is he. One of a different kind. Underestimated- but no less deadly.

You acknowledge that in him. See it. Stroke that vicious creature in his chest the way that no one else ever had.

“You’re my mighty warrior, Sayrip(handsome). The mightiest I’ve ever come across” you reassure, about rubbing affectionately against his own. “I have the bruises from earlier to prove it”

Neteyam’s grin is shit eating. The cat that caught the canary. You always tell him exactly what he needs to hear. He’d known that he had done well earlier in group training with the other warriors, but it’s nice to hear you say it.

Lately he’s found that yours is the only opinion that he cares about.

“Sorry ‘bout that” he speaks right into your mouth, lips grazing your own.

“I’m sure” you snort- but before you can make any other retorts he closes that barely there distance. Slotting in between your legs perfectly and leaning his weight down on to you.

Kissing you feels like soaring. Like he’s flying amongst the Hallelujah Mountains.

It’s slow at first, like it always is. Both of you just want to taste and savor- but then the hunger sets in. He’s eager with his tongue, wants to taste the sweet cavern of your mouth. Once you let him in he’s sighing, keening as he sucks on your tongue, licks at your sharp teeth.

You’re truly starting to struggle. Wiggling underneath him, hands straining against his hold.

“Tey” you grunt as you pull away. He tries to recapture your lips but you turn away from him- instead he presses his face into your throat.

Your scent is concentrated there, pheromones free flowing from your scent gland with every beat of your heart.

It’s the salty sea. And jungle flowers. The herby musk of the beans that make his favorite tea. You smell like cozy nights when it’s raining and the sky is full of electricity. Both comfort and unchained freedom in one.

He moans and runs his wet tongue along your skin, licking the gland needily. It explodes on his tastebuds.

The loud, shocked squawk, unlady like and certainly unAlpha like.

And then you’re breaking his hold,so fucking strong. He doesn’t put up a fight and lets you go. Welcomes the feeling of your hands on his body like they’re supposed to be.

You paw at his broad back, appreciative of the tensing muscles there, all the while he’s suckling at your neck. Your pheromones are addicting as he swallows them down. Breathes them in and fills his lungs with them- drowning in you.

He wants to roll in your scent. To bathe in it. To wake up with it every morning surrounding him and isn’t that a revaluation all in it’s own.

He chokes as your small fingers begin to massage the base of his tail, rubbing on smooth little circles at the bottom of his spine. It sends tingles all the way up his spine, strumming against every vertebra- making his kuru ache.

It’s good enough to make his eyes cross, his slim hips thrusting roughly, bumping his covered cock into the warmth between your thick thighs. Ones he starts, he can’t atop. It feels too good, stimulating himself roughly with your own body while you play with his over sensitive tail.

“Hey. Slow down-“ you start, your touch leaving him and voice hesitant.

No.

Not tonight.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

He was pretty fucking sure at this point that you were this close to triggering his heat- months early. He was in a constant state of arousal, his crotch aching on and off throughout the day.

You were going to help him. Do something about what you’d caused. You had to.

He keeps thrusting, short little bursts, into your tweng covered cunt. He’d rather it be bare, rather be inside of you, but he’ll take what he can get. You’re hit and humid at the apex of your body, he can feel it between the layers of clothing.

“Neteyam-” that snarl in your tone coming back. And it’s not teasing anymore. It’s warning.

Your strong legs come around his waist, your calves trying to lock him in place. Take control of the situation.

He just nuzzles his face deeper into your shoulder, his knees digging into the earth as he grounded himself- giving himself the leverage to keep fucking between your thighs as hard as he possibly could.

He’d always hated begging. Was so far above it. Back home he’d been royalty- had spent his life wanting for nothing. And even so, even here where is status was low standing he would rather die then grovel. His pride was too great.

“Please Y/N” he whispers and once he starts, he can’t stop “please, please, please”

Your legs loosen from their hold and he thinks you might take pity on him. Might let him get what he needed.

Of course things can never be easy with you.

One moment he’s sloppily chasing his high, the next there’s vertigo, the confused feeling of being moved without his permission- before he lands on his back with a huff.

You’d managed to roll the two of you over, and you sit on top of him. Your thick thighs a cage around his middle. You gaze down at him with a look that’s filled with concern, wearing a frustrated frown frown

He groans, slamming his head back into the grass. Hopelessly.

“What the fuck was that?” You inquire sharply. When he doesn’t look at you grab his face, his lips purse as you squeeze his cheeks.

“Maybe I’m sick of being teased” he sounds like a petulant child. His smushed cheeks make it all the worse.

You sigh and release his face and he doesn’t know what to do. How to get you to take him. You want him- he can tell- so why are you torturing you both?

His hands go to your thighs, squeezing. It’s all pillowy flesh and hard muscle underneath. He wants them to smother him. He distracts him self by digging his fingers into them, watching them jiggle as he releases.

“I’m not meaning to tease you. Come on, you know that”

“So working me up until I feel like I’m dying every night isn’t teasing?” He scoffs “yeah, whatever”

“I’m trying to take it slow. Be respectful”

He doesn’t want to be respected, not like this. Not by you. “Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why do we have to go so slow? Is this how you’ve been with all your partners?” He spits that last bit. Defensive and jealous over thinking about you with anyone else… “Or is it because I’m a virgin?”

You look a little dumb. Sitting on top of him with that half-baked expression. Like you’re trying to figure out what it is you want to say. “Well yeah. Obviously”

A flash of anger surges through him. He doesn’t need an Alpha trying to control his decisions. He's not some saint-like virgin who doesn’t want to be touched. He’s just someone who’d managed to go into adulthood without being fucked.

He maneuvers you off of him.

“I don’t get what I’m doing wrong” you’re woeful as you sit next to him in the grass.

“Do you want to know why I haven’t slept with anybody?” He starts. This conversation is going to be embarrassing for him. He doesn’t want to have it, but feels it’s necessary. You’re an asshole for making this necessary.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” you’re trying to be reassuring and calm but can smell your confused, semi hysterical hormones. There’s an Omega in distress and all you want to do is help.

You could sort all of this out by knotting him until he didn’t know his own name anymore, but alas.

“It’s not because I’m some pious freak. Yeah, the Omiticaya are more traditional but they don’t shun clans members that have pre-bonded sex, Y/N” he’s not happy as he speaks. You can tell by the way he wrings his hands, by the way his ears sit close to his braids “I’ve always had a lot going on. With my family. Even when I was younger I was always running after one of my siblings…and then the Sky People came back. It was- chaos. I barely had a moment to think, much less find anyone to mate with. And back home people only wanted to be around me because I was Olo’eyktan in training. Toruk Makto’s only Omega son”

He’s never seen you so quiet. You’re usually the loudest person in the room. Filling up any and all space with your musical voice and chiming laughter.

You give him the space to say what he needs to.

“I don’t trust easily. I knew what people wanted me for. No one cared about getting to know me, not really…and I’m not good at talking to people anyway. Ah” he’s frustrated. Tongue tying into knots as he tries to articulate the thoughts in his head.

How does he tell you that he’d been so introverted that he hadn’t had his first kiss until just after his 17th birthday?

That war had consumed his every minute and he hadn’t really been all that concerned about losing his virginity. Not until he met you.

Your hand slips into his lap, fingers interlacing with his as you wait for him to finish.

“You think that I’m a virgin because I wanted to be. I’m not. I just didn’t trust anyone enough to be with them that way” as he finishes his long-winded rant, something hangs in the air.

Something unsaid.

He didn’t trust anyone before.

But he trusted you.

You squeeze his hand tight and bring it to your lips. Kissing the top of it over and over.

“I don’t want to fuck this up. I want to do right by you” you admit. It sounds as vulnerable as he feels.

“Then stop trying to control this. Just be with me”

A lot of decisions in his life were taken from him, ripped away while he watched and mutely grieved. He wanted you, as close to him as possible. That was his, his desire. His prerogative. His choice.

You tug on his hand, bringing him back close, and hold him as you kiss him. Your tongue soothing, making him sigh. He’s so easy for this. For you.

Your bodies seem to fit together without thought, you roll atop of him and settling between his strong svelte legs happens seamlessly. Your lips never disconnect.

When you pull away, leaving him slick lipped and panting, he’s ready to admit defeat.

Instead, you hold his honeyed gaze as you reach behind yourself. Fiddling with the ties of your top until it falls off, your chest bare and on display.

Your breasts are pretty, full and topped with hard little nipples. He yearns to rub his cheek to your skin and can feel his erection stirring again.

“I can’t have sex with you yet- and that isn’t about you. It’s about me” you start as you slowly reach for the carob colored leather of his tweng. Giving him ample time to push you away if he pleases “You are not yet recognized as a fully fledged member of the clan. Soon, my sweet. But not yet”

He shivers as your fingertips trace his sensitive hips, tugging on the knots “W-what?”

“Just because I can’t fuck you doesn’t mean that I can’t make you feel good. I’m sorry for teasing , I won’t do that to you anymore” you coo apologetically, nimbly loosening his cloth until its pooling under him “Is this okay with you?”

Neteyam can only nod. Too nervous speak, not wanting to spoil this moment.

You tug the garment down his long legs and he fights the instant urge to close them, to shield himself. Instead, he takes a deep shaky breath, trying to ignore the heat flaming across his face.

“Shh” you smile, cupping his jaw and kissing him “It’s only me and you here, and I want to make it up to you”

And make it up you do.

Neteyam didn't think that anything could feel better then kissing you, then your lips on his, then you consuming his mouth. But as the kiss grows voracious, your hand slips down his body. Over the hard lines of muscle- and in between his spread legs.

“Oh” he hisses at the foreign feeling of you touching him where only his own fingers had been. His slit is swollen and puffy, his cock already peeking out. Tender and hypersensitive as you coax it all the way out from inside his body. “Oh, that feels. Ah-”

Male Omega’s have different anatomy and it’d never been anything he thought twice about. Just what he was born with, but as you work him over with your fingers, he thanks Eywa for all that he’d blessed him with. His long, hard cock. The way that you pump it slowly, paying special attention to the mushroom tip feels so nice. The slick that leaks all around, making his gash and puffy lips slippery and smooth. There’s so much stimulation.

He’s gasping wildly within minutes, clutching at desperately at the ground.

It's all so new. All so much better than he thought it would be.

When your head starts to follow that same path down his body, tongue dragging over his nipples. His ‘X’ shaped sternum. His concaving stomach and belly button- he can't bare it. Can't watch as you take the tip in your sinful mouth.

It doesn't matter how much he shrieks and writhes, you don't stop. The crude sloppy sounds of you choking yourself on his wet member echo around the trees, only interrupted by his wheezes. It’s not sweet or kind, the pleasure you give him is almost violent. It’s shameful, but he doesn't last very long at all, how could he? He’d wanted this so badly, and his untouched body had been on the brink of orgasm ever since you’d kissed him all those weeks ago back at the beach.

When your tricky fingers run over the tight ring of his hole he whites out.

His body goes tight as his orgasm washes over him in mind numbing waves. Your mouth fills with his cum. He grabs your hair firmly in both fists, holding your face still. Fucking your throat as he empties his entire being into you.

This feeling is transcending. He was a changed man, never to be the same. Floating somewhere above his body there's only one thing he can think of.

That he wants.

His turn to taste you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okay so I literally have so much more of this written but handle but this first part already is 1100 words long. I had to cut it there. Fear not, I’m hella inspired and am planning to not only update but get this little three parter done in the next week or so!

Okay, I thought I’d give you some background on the A/B/O aspect of this story. Secondary gender is something that all Na’vi have- and although Male Omega’s and Female Alpha’s aren't as common, they’re far from rare.

Male Omega’s have an anatomy that looks similar to this. I’ve been obsessed with this artwork since I saw it. Alien biology is too fun not to play with. In my head they can both fuck and be fucked

A Female Alphas knot is actually internal and is able to lock down and keep things inside.

Still plotting and feeling this world and its rules out! Let me know what you guys think and any ideas you have. You know I love to brainstorm.

A List of the Avatar Characters and the Secondary Genders(in this story)

Jake- Avatars don't have secondary genders.

Neytiri- Beta

Lo’ak- Beta

Kiri-Beta

Tuk-Alpha

Tonowari-Omega

Ronal- Alpha

Tsireya- Alpha(shes actually my fave Alpha tbh!)

Ao’nung- Beta

Gonna take a moment right at the end here to talk about some of my favorite authors and creators that inspire me to not only hone my craft, but continue post on here at all! Give them a read if you need something beyond good to tide you over until the next chapter.

@tiredmamaissy is the literal blueprint for Na'vi ABO.

@hinataashoyos writes the best damn porn with plot in this fandom

@justasimps-blog literally writes my FAVORITE near canon version of the Avatar characters

@cinetrix YOUR AI ART INSPIRED ALL OF THIS. Got me frothing at the mouth and shit. Also her Ao'nung story has a great Dom! Female in it.

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #aged up neteyam #neteyam x reader #omega neteyam x female alpha reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #minors do not interact #bottom neteyam

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