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#my beautiful warrior ~ Cloud
wheneclipsefalls · 11 months
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Withered
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Beautiful Adult Neteyam photo by the wonderful @cinetrix
Pairing: Alpha Neteyam x Beta Fem Omatikaya Reader
Synopsis: You and Neteyam have opposite lives. He thrives in the daylight of possibilities while you are forced to the shadows. You are sure that the right course of action would be letting the future Olo'eyktan go. Neteyam is less convinced.
Based on a request from my 🥔 anon
Warnings: aged up characters, aged up neteyam, angst, health problems, explicit smut, dirty talk, crying, miscommunication, p in v, virgin reader, first time, omegaverse, alpha/beta relationship dynamic, heat, sickness, 18+ only MDNI
Tanhi: star/little star I Yawne: beloved I Sevin: pretty I Mawey: calm
A/N: I can't tell you all enough how grateful I am for the hype and many comments that have been around this story just from that small sneak peek I posted. This ended up being a lot longer than I ever anticipated but I had a blast writing it. Please let me know what you think. I love hearing from y'all!
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For many the sun is a symbol of warmth, peace, and solace. The bright rays enwrap Na’vi of all ages in the glow of Eywa’s love. The rise of morning light represents a new day, another chance for adventure and possibilities. When the illuminating glow of yellow sunshine transforms into streaks of vibrant purples and pinks, it indicates a time for families to come together and tuck in for the night. 
However, for you, your day truly begins at the first glow of bioluminescence. Eclipse is your time to explore the world.
You were born with an almost unheard of disease. It only took a few days of your infant body breaking out into abnormal rashes for Tsahik to realize something was wrong. Exposure of more than a few minutes to sunshine causes detrimental effects to your body. For this reason, you are forced to avoid the vibrant glow of the sun. 
From that moment on you have lived your life almost nocturnally. On lucky days the clouds protect you from the harmful UV rays. Rain has come to be your favorite weather as it allows you an escape from your hut. 
Despite these difficulties you have always strived to remain positive. You thank your parents for their gracious attitudes that inspire you to look for the silver lining in all situations. Sure you can not sunbathe or prowl the forest during sunny days but no one knows the forest at Eclipse as well as you do. Your knowledge has come in handy more than a few times, being asked to guide night hunts with some of the most notorious warriors in the clan.
This is where you met Neteyam.
The firstborn of the infamous Toruk Makto and your future Olo’eyktan, you originally assumed he would have no interest in interacting with you. You knew him from afar, hearing the word spread of his kindness and diligence when it came to helping those around him. His alpha status only served to bring a larger gaggle of girls practically falling at his feet. As a beta and suffering from a rare condition, you naturally took yourself out of the run up. You were confident he would choose some sweet and knowledgeable omega that would be the perfect tsahik. 
However, your assumptions quickly crumbled as he progressively paid attention to you more and more throughout these night hunts. Instead of joining the rest of the alpha warriors gathering to share a strong drink after a successful kill, he would opt to check in with you. You were shy at first, unsure of how to act around such an influential member of the clan. However, there was something about those golden orbs and soft smile that quickly set you at ease. 
You still remember the first time you had sustained a small injury during these hunts. It was nothing more than a shallow slash to your forearm, but Neteyam had insisted on carefully wrapping it himself. You gushed over him like an idiot, reminding him that it was unnecessary but  he showed his stubborn side that day. 
At first you thought it was your own overactive imagination noticing the frequency of night hunts he signed up for increase, but eventually it had become every single night. No matter how boned-tired he was from a day of full Olo’eyktan training, he would beam at the sight of your small form. His scent was something that seemed to constantly enrapture your senses. The heavy essence of pine and hormonal swings was so much stronger than yours. It took some getting used to. The first few nights you were bashful to come home and find evidence of your arousal dampening your loincloth. 
Still, you told yourself it was just a simple crush that you had to live with. It took weeks for you to even consider the possibility of Neteyam showing interest in you. He had been consistent in bringing you out of your shell, getting you to talk about everything from your family to the fondest hope and dreams in your heart. Oftentimes he would stay back behind after the hunt to help you join him sitting on an overarching thick branch (you were grateful for the darkness of eclipse that hid your blush each time he effortlessly hoisted you up with large hands gently holding your waist) and chat away into the night. 
It was only when the gifts began that you gave these interactions a second thought. It had started small with simple flowers and fruits he had encountered throughout the day. However, they slowly became more intricate. The first time he brought you a small woven bracelet of sparkling gems, you had been gobsmacked. 
“Like the night sky. The only thing appropriate for my tanhi.” He had said, making you almost choke on your own spit. Tahni- little star: a nickname he had coined for you after the first week. A fitting term for someone that only knew the night sky. Still, it was the first time he had ever called you his. The terminology was not lost on you. 
When the sun arose once more and you had retired back to your protected hut, those words had kept you up, your small fingers twiddling with the bracelet. 
Taking your acceptance of the small gift, Neteyam had become even more bold with his courting. Before you knew it he was bringing a meal with him for you before every hunt. You had tried to decline the thoughtful gesture but he would not take no for an answer. 
“Someone has to make sure you eat, tanhi.” 
There was no fighting the alpha on this, so you graciously took the meals each night. He smiled proudly as you moaned in satisfaction of the carefully seasoned meat he had killed and prepared for you. Another testament to the mighty warrior and beneficial mate he is. 
You started to think that the eldest Sully was simply a flirt, or perhaps such a kind person that his actions came off as romantic. However, there was one instance that finally tipped you to accepting his affections. It was a particularly successful hunt, dragging home a thanator, when he had slowed down to your pace. Talking about anything and everything under the night sky, your breath was practically stolen from your lungs when he reached out to tuck a strand of your dark hair behind your ear. 
However innocent the gesture was, it was the lingering of his hand running down your neck that caused your heart to bash against your rib cage violently. A simple brush that had left his scent to coalesce with yours. An essence that would keep other suitors away. Out of habit, you mentally went to play it off as a simple accident, but the crooked smirk plastered across his face did not allow you. There was a primal satisfaction seated in those golden orbs, one that caused a pool of arousal to gather in your core. 
He knew what he had done. 
Neteyam was proud of it. 
His affection was untethered from that point forward. Accidental brushes of fingers had turned into blatant hand holding. The alpha never missed an opportunity to press a warm hand to the small of your back, guiding you through the terrain, or wrap an arm around your waist in order to steady you when walking over uneven forest floor. 
“What kind of alpha would I be if I let you get hurt?” 
He had spoken in response to your inquiry, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.
Falling for Neteyam was easy. Too easy. It was keeping yourself back from jumping into his arms or melting into his embraces that was difficult. No matter how strange and suggestive his behavior had been, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. After all, there was no saying what he got up to during the day. For all you knew he could be taking omegas out every day and weaving sweet gifts for them too. 
So you had decided to do what was best for everyone and take yourself out of the situation before something embarrassing could happen. You declined the request to accompany the hunting party and instead went to spend some more time with your family. If your parents noticed the difference in your appearance they did not show it. They were always good at giving you space, respecting your independence as an adult (although your mother did go out of her way to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, a silent way to express her understanding and love). Neither of them knew about Neteyam at the time, it was easier that way. 
This fact only heightened their surprise when they saw Toruk Makto’s eldest son approaching their small gathering. You can still remember the intent gaze that Neteyam pierced you with. Your heart hammered out of your chest, hands fidgeting with the moss beneath you nervously. Neteyam signaled the traditional greeting to your parents before respectfully asking your father if he could borrow you for a moment. 
They were caught off guard, your dad turning back to send you a curious look, but naturally neither wanted to decline the Omatikaya prince. 
Once the two of you were finally alone, Neteyam immediately sprang into action. He grabbed your biceps and used that hold to turn you from side to side as he scanned your form. His intense inspection had blood rushing to your cheeks. 
“Neteyam, what are you doing? I thou-”
“Where are you injured?” You twitched when he reached a hand out to inspect your flicking tail too. Confusion swarmed within you. You had sputtered and struggled to put together a full sentence.
“It has been three days, Tanhi. I blew one day off as exhaustion or a fluke and the second as pure coincidence but surely only an injury would keep you away from the hunt for three days.” His eyes finally met yours again when there was no wound to be found. His tall frame had towered over yours as he reached out to cup your cheek. 
That familiar warmth and adoration you had for him had returned within an instant. 
You stepped back, successfully out of his grasp.
“I’m fine.” You replied simply. 
His tail swatted in the humid air and those golden orbs had squinted into slits. The focused attention of that look full of suspicion was enough to hold you down to your spot. You swallowed the lump in your throat and as you tried desperately to keep the fidgeting at bay. It was one of the few times you were grateful to be beta because surely an omega would shrivel under the pressure of his looming presence. 
“I don’t like when you lie to me, Tahni. Now tell me why I’ve had to go without my little star for three whole days.” Neteyam placed his hands sternly upon his hips, ears twitching forward as if preparing to take in your explanation. An explanation that you felt could not be shared. Doing so was bound to undermine your plans, completely destroying the efforts that had been made. 
“The group seems to be more than sufficient without my guidance.” You don’t dare to meet his eyes, your own orbs trained at the ground instead. In a moment’s notice his sculpted body was once again inches away from yours. His warmth came off of him in waves, along with the heady aura of alpha pheromones. 
You couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran down your spine when he placed heavy hands on your shoulders and bent over your frame till you could feel his calm breath against your ear. Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh. A part of your brain told you to run, understanding the alluring danger that awaited you, while the other yearned to curl up against his impressive physique. 
You couldn’t understand how any omega managed to be around this male without completely dropping to their knees.
Suddenly you had some sympathy for the girls that had always fawned over him. 
“Tell me the truth, sevin.” The heated words tickled at your ears and made your heart skip a beat. It was foolish to think that there was any chance of lying to Neteyam, the mighty warrior that walked with the confidence of the supernatural. 
So you did.
You had scrambled to messily explain how it would be best if the two of you spent less time together. Unfortunately this unrehearsed synopsis included an approach that painted yourself as the foolish beta with a crush on the Omatikaya prince and therefore unable to handle herself around him. It was not the perspective you had hoped for, but it was the only one that could have been presented in your state of jumbled thought. 
Neteyam shook his head, an almost fond smile upon his lips. 
“Tanhi, you really do not like to make things easy for me.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. The sound put you slightly on edge but there was no trace of anger in his expression. Amusement was easily perceivable in the raise of his hairless eyebrows. He had taken your humiliating and pathetic explanation in stride, in fact, he had found humor in it. 
“I thought I’ve made myself clear.” You were swooped into the encirclement of his arms in one quick motion. You squeaked and braced yourself against the warm muscles of his abdomen. “You are the mate I seek.” 
His words had thrown you into a spiral, your heartstrings plucking into rhythms of heightened emotion. It was almost too much to take in. A part of you still found security in denying these bold claims but there had been too much evidence at that point. Neteyam Sully had in fact been courting you. 
His head lowered, nuzzling at your face until you finally looked up at him. Your lips were only a breath apart. 
“If you’ll have me.” Neteyam whispered. 
There was no fighting the longings of your heart at that rate. That night you had agreed to his courting and within a month the two of you had been madly in love and preparing to officially mate. 
The process was faster, seemingly faster than anything else in your life. Night had always slowed you down from progressing in the normal rhythm of Na’vi milestones, but Neteyam had broken that pattern for you. 
You can still remember the vivid sensation of his tendrils connecting with your own. Those sparks of electricity that had created a direct line to his innermost feelings and thoughts. There was great solace to be found in the surging feelings of love and adoration he had for you, something you had been able to tap into. Still, nothing could ever compare with the way you felt for Neteyam. 
He’s your world. Your light. Your sun. 
Being with him feels like finally having a taste of those golden rays. You can see it in his smile. In the shake of his shoulders when his laughter trickles from soft lips. In the unashamed sparkle that overtakes his eyes in a coating whenever they land on you after a long day of training. 
Neteyam has become your world in only a matter of a few months. It is hard to imagine how you went so many years without this unbreakable connection between the two of you. Each night you wake up to the warm embrace of your mate who has come home from a long day of training. Soft kisses are placed along your eyelids, cheeks, and nose until your thick lashes flutter and you regain consciousness. 
The searing envious looks of other females can be felt at your back when the two of you join the rest of the clan for dinner each night, but it is only white noise in the presence of your handsome mate guiding you with a hand to the small of your back. In fact it becomes less than a passing memory when Neteyam goes on to share the events of the day in great detail, usually pulling out a tucked away gift he has found for you along the trails of his adventures. 
There is so much hidden beneath that emanating exterior of perfection that Neteyam upholds. He strips away those layers only for you, usually among the flowering meadow the two of you lay in while stargazing. The stories often end with your mate trailing off into a groggy murmur until the air fills with the sounds of his sleeping breaths. You prefer to stay tucked against him for a while longer, letting the moment last before you must wake him and shoo the mighty warrior back home for some much needed rest. 
While he sleeps you venture from the hut to forage and hunt, although Neteyam prefers to accompany you during dangerous hunts. You decide that what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. He is known to be an overprotective alpha anyway. Once food has been secured and your adventures have come to a close, you slip back into the darkened hut before the first break of dawn. Those specially made thick curtains are the difference between life and death for you. 
Although the tent has been sufficient for years, Neteyam continues to add to its layers. He is constantly worrying about the vulnerabilities of the hut, convinced that one slip could bring catastrophic consequences to his mate. So he works with his father to constantly rebuild and strengthen the exterior walls. There are times where you remind him of how unnecessary these actions are but Neteyam is undeterred by these conversations. So you let your mate continue his projects. If it brings him peace of mind to obsess over the structure then it must be doing some good. 
Things are great for the first month. Nothing sexual occurs during those first few weeks of being newly mated, out of respect to you. There is no denying that Neteyam has had experience in the ways of pleasuring females but you on the other hand have never been close to intimate with someone else. As a couple you decide to take things slow. However, you can not help but admire the restraint Neteyam shows when you catch the shift of his pheromones into that of lust or see the tightness of his loincloth after a particularly long make out session. 
Were it any other alpha you are sure that the time would have come for him to become impatient and work towards persuading you to go further with him. However, Neteyam knows that you are shy and nervous. He puts your needs before his own and constantly assures you that he is happy to wait so long as you feel comfortable when the time is right. 
Your apprehension has slowly been melting away. The soft caresses that travel along your form sends a burning thrill that is exotic to you. Moments where you are brave enough to straddle his lap while kissing, the friction of his groin against your core is electric. These new feelings have been quickly festering and building inside of you. The nerves have slowly morphed into alluring curiosity. It has been becoming harder to hold back.
For this reason, you’ve decided to tell Neteyam tonight that you are ready. Finally, the bond created through tsaheylu will be strengthened and confirmed by the intertwining of each other’s bodies. 
The last hints of sunshine have disappeared behind the moon. This time you wake before Neteyam has a chance to come wake you up himself. The nerves that bundle into a coil in your stomach have kept you from sleeping in so you decide to seek him out yourself. It shouldn’t be long till he is back from an exhibition with Jake. 
The village is lively with reuniting families after a prosperous day of duties. It's a familiar sight that has always brought a warmth to your heart, especially that of small children running to their mothers or fathers with grabby hands. There are times where you imagine sending your own child to wobble excitedly towards Neteyam, spun through the air by the mighty warrior that you are lucky enough to call your mate. 
High in the trees, hidden by the walls of a family hut you hear the familiar voice of Lo’ak. A smile tugs at your lips, confident that Neteyam is sure to be with his brother. However, that excitement is dampened slightly when the responding voice is not your mate’s but Unip’s. 
“I just don’t know how long he thinks this can go on.” Unip sighs.
“Well you know how Neteyam is. He will find a way to succeed and if not, he will die trying.” Lo’ak snorts, but there is a hint of concern in his nonchalant tone. It’s a timber that makes you halt in your tracks and ears twitch to hear the conversation. 
“It’s only going to get worse, you know. Once he is Olo’eyktan, half a night’s rest will not be enough anymore. He already looks half dead.” 
There is a silence that follows, only filled by the sound of your own heart thumping. 
“You’re never going to convince him otherwise, bro.” Lo’ak responds, amused tone faltering greatly. 
Stepping forward, you curve yourself around a thick tree trunk in effort to discreetly get a better look at the pair. Lo’ak’s back is facing towards you but even from this low vantage point, the lines of his tense muscle are easy to spot. Your golden eyes have become specialized for seeing in the dark after all these years, allowing a better image of his form and mannerisms. You are used to reading people’s expressions and body language with only the dim glow of eclipse. 
“Stubborn skxawng.” Unip shakes his head before leaning against the sturdy trunk. His scowl is illuminated by the soft red glow of a patch of sprouting flowers. The sight makes your stomach twist. 
Have things truly gotten this bad?
“Neteyam won’t leave her. You and I both know that. All that can be done is make peace with it.” Lo’ak shrugs his shoulders.
“And watch him turn into an old man in a few years. Those bags are sure to be bad for his pretty boy appearance.” Unip quips back, causing both the males to break out into laughter. 
The tension visibly eases between them but you are not laughing. In fact, you can feel the beginning of those twisting nerves pushing bile up your throat. All joyful anticipation has washed from your features, replaced with dread and horror. 
Your feet drum against the forest floor, stuck on autopilot and effectively taking you home. The beginning of streaming tears threaten to drop past your eyes. 
It’s true that Neteyam has been tired but it isn’t till now that you reply back your interactions and his recent appearance. Those dark circles aren’t as prevalent in the light of eclipse, perhaps they are more telling in daylight. Neteyam has a way of falling asleep in a matter of seconds once hitting the mat but you have always assumed that to be a part of his nature. Some people are naturally deep sleepers. 
However, now, all of these signs appear in a different light for you. Each conversation is played back in your head but of course Neteyam has never let his weaknesses show, especially ones that could be brought on by you. You know this and yet it is only now that you scold yourself for not being more perceptive, for not seeking advice and perspective from those around him.
His family and friends have an advantage that you can not achieve. Surely they would be the first to notice his changes in demeanor and health. They are the ones watching him work, train, and interact more closely with clan members. You have never been more envious of those walking in the sun in your entire life. This condition has always been a hassle for you but now it has turned into true heartache. 
This weakness that Eywa has given you is no longer just affecting you but now your perfect mate. This disease has spread to him in a way you scold yourself for not anticipating. 
How is he supposed to become Olo’eyktan, protecting and guiding the People all while being tethered to you? 
Eywa has destined your life to be forever restricted to the shadows, but that is not Neteyam’s path. 
You can spot the familiar dark canvases of your hut in the trees up ahead. No doubt Neteyam has already returned home at this point, if not then he will soon. Less than an hour earlier you were ecstatic to see him but now the thought of seeing those tired eyes makes you want to curl up into a ball. 
Needing more time to process, you opt to take a different route, one that leads to a secluded waterfall. Safe in the greenery and now sitting in the shallow area of the glowing water, you take a moment to breathe. Water trickles into a soothing pattern that has been associated with your memories in this found sanctuary. 
Truly, none of this should be a surprise. This ailment has been the driving course of your life thus far and you’ve grown used to it, letting go of certain aspects that are not meant for you. Neteyam is just another one of those. He is beyond your reach. Keeping him here would only hurt the clan. They need a leader that can be with them, present both physically and mentally. For the greater good it is time to let him become that Olo’eyktan. 
Perhaps you would have accepted this fact and stuck to it earlier on were it not for the great love you hold for him. Neteyam Sully holds your heart and soul effortlessly in his hands. There will never be another that lights up your life the same way he does and truth be told, you don’t want there to be. Forever your first and only love. 
Regardless, the time for being selfish is over.
Some Na’vi have the honor of dying a warrior’s death, going down in the name of protecting the People. Others sacrifice their time and energy serving the clan daily in the name of Eywa. You have been kept back from either of these duties so it makes sense that giving up the future Olo’eyktan would be your contribution. 
After all, how are you supposed to serve as Tsahik with your limitations?
This makes sense. Your brian tells you this is the logical solution. Life will go on. You will return back to a life that you have come to be content with over the years and Neteyam will find a proper mate that can serve The People by his side. 
Still, it is impossible to ignore the cracks that are slowly developing in your heart. It is difficult to imagine a life without your true love. The thought alone has a sob crawling up your throat. This sound however is morphed into a strange shriek when a pair of muscular arms suddenly grasp and pull you back against a hard chest.
The water splashes around the two of you and you can feel the rumble of Neteyam’s laughter as you are awkwardly shifted in his arms. 
“Baby girl, you are really off your game today.” He teases fondly before nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck. An efficient shuffle has you more familiarly settled between the corded muscle of his toned thighs. Instinctually you lean back against him. 
“What? Nothing to say in your defense?” 
“Oh yeah uh just tired.” You lamely respond. 
“Silly Tanhi, today has barely begun.”
For you. 
The day has barely begun for you and only you. Every other Na’vi enjoy the blissful alignment of the sun and their ‘days’. You are the outlier. 
Gathering up your courage you finally lift yourself onto your knees and turn to face him. Neteyam grins, but for once you aren’t focused on the gleams of those pearly teeth. Sure enough there are dark circles in a crescent shape beneath his eyes. You reach out to thumb at those dark contrasts. The alpha blissfully misreads this as cupping his cheek. He leans into the touch and his smile broadens. 
“My sweet sevin.” He mumbles. Your stomach tightens back into that knot. Finally, he seems to notice the shift in your demeanor. The smile falters and he places his hand over the one cupping his cheek. The large veined hand completely covers yours. 
“What’s wrong?” 
It seems an impossible task to go through with what you know must be done. A part of you considers holding off, letting it last a little longer before you lose him forever. However, that would only result in a more sleep deprived Omatikaya Prince and the suffering of future Olo’eyktan. 
The longer you take to respond the faster the amusement in those golden orbs declines. He calls your name softly and turns his head to gently peck your palm. 
“I just-” You steady yourself. The words feel like acid crawling up your throat and sitting pressed against him only makes it burn more. Cautiously you detach yourself completely and settle down on the colorful rocks lining the shallow river. 
Neteyam immediately stiffens. His tail curls up into high alert and his ears twitch back slightly, but still you can see the now fake smile plastered on his face. 
“You’re…tired.” It’s a weak start but they are the only words you can force out. 
There is a flicker of surprise in his features but it melts away into a mocking eye roll. The corners of his lips are back to being turned up in a more genuine manner. 
“Well of course I’m a little tired Tanhi. Every mighty warrior should be if he’s done his job right.” The alpha chuckles and you can almost taste the deviation of his pheromones. He confidently reaches out to take your hand in his. “But never too tired to spend time with my sweet little star.” 
The cool rush of water is a dramatic contrast to the warm grasp Neteyam has on your hand. It feels like fire that curls up your veins and pushes tears to the back of your eyes. It’s too painful to be close like this. To see him obliviously flirt and cuddle as if all is well when you know deep down that this will be the last time you feel his touch. 
“No, I mean exhausted. Ma Neteyam-” You shut your mouth tight. That phrase was so easily in your arsenal of vocabulary but it’s time to start training yourself to stop using it. You brush the circles under his eyes again. “You haven’t been getting enough sleep.”
Realization seems to dawn for him.
“Oh you mean my eyes. Lo’ak was teasing me earlier about it. Didn’t think it would bother you so much, sevin, but I’m sure my grandmother has some herbs to lighten the color.” He laughs lightly.
“No, Neteyam. This is bad for you. Staying up every night only to push yourself to the limit the next day. Living in that darkened hut. Spending every last fiber of energy you have spending time with me. Taking care of me-”
“That is what mates do, Tanhi. I don’t want it any other way-”
“I am bad for you!”
The words cut through the air and suddenly every remnant of the playful atmosphere has disappeared. 
“Don’t say stuff like that, Tanhi.” His voice is firm, stern enough to be considered reprimanding. Neteyam eyes darken onto a duller glow. The musky scent of your mate shifts into that of a stronger presence. It’s moments like that that you remember how distinct his second gender is. 
“Neteyam, you know I’m right. This condition is no longer just hurting me but you too. Playing this game of back and forth makes no sense.” 
He sits up straight, back stiff as a rod. It takes everything in you to hold that gaze without bursting into tears and backing down. The flicker of his tail has turned into frantic swatting as his lips curl downwards. 
“What are you trying to say, love?”
You gulp and prepare yourself to utter words that weigh heavy in your heart. 
“We have to end this.” 
Silence drags on. The rush of running water and purring wildlife is the only thing that fills the air. Your tail swishes nervously in the water, causing a slight splash. No matter which way you squint or tilt your head, Neteyam’s expression is unreadable. Even your enhanced night vision is not enough to fully understand or anticipate the brewing emotions beneath those golden eyes. 
“No.”
Your mind sputters to a halt at the snipped response. He’s giving you nothing to work with. 
“Neteya-”
“Where is all of this coming from, yawne?” He reaches forward to cup your cheek but you stand up before he can. This close proximity is becoming too much. Perhaps it’s cowardly, but you need a reprieve from his love-filled gaze and tender touches. Otherwise, there is no way you will be able to do what needs to be done. You wonder if he knows this as you are met with a toned chest at eye level blocking your path. 
“Did something happen?”
“No.”
“Then why are you so worried all of a sudden?” He pleads for an answer but you have finally managed to slip past him and wade out of the water. The drum of your feet rings in your ears, taking you to Eywa knows where. Neteyam is hot on your heels. 
“It’s not just worry, it’s logic, Neteyam. Can’t you see? You are going to be Olo’eyktan. The People need a leader that won’t be tied to some nocturnal Na’vi that drains the last bit of energy you have left.”
The alpha goes to interject but the words are flying out of your mouth at such a speed at this rate, he has no opportunity. 
“They will need a Tsahik that can do more than just work a night shift. Not to mention one that actually understand healing protocal-”
“My grandmother has already offered to teach you.” He counters, stomping feet practically nipping at your heels. It’s not that you mean to walk away from him, but the dam that holds your suffocating emotions at bay is starting to crack and crumble. One look at him could weaken your resolve. This has to be done fast, ripped off like an adhesive bandage. 
“You deserve to be with someone that can lead The People with you. A mate that can serve both you and the clan in a way I never can. An omega that is a proper mate.”
A strong hand clamps around your bicep and spins you around. Neteyam glowers down at you with an intensity that is borderline desperate. The tears are starting to leave a glaze over your eyes, even as you avoid his own at any cost.
“You are my mate. You are the woman that I choose to spend the rest of my days with.” He tries to gently tilt your face towards him by grabbing your chin, but you flick it off. “We are mated before Eywa.” The crack in his voice tears at your heart. 
“I shouldn’t have let it go on this long, I’m sorry. I foolishly let myself believe that you and I are meant to be but now it is clear that my head was simply in the clouds.” A sob thickens your voice until it is barely tangible. Words are failing you and you idly wonder how many more you will truly be able to manage in this state. 
You attempt to flee from his embrace once more, just a moment to escape that heartbreaking stare that follows your every move. Neteyam holds you gently by the biceps but there is enough force there to keep you in place. 
“We are, Tahni. All these other obstacles are just that, obstacles. Things we can overcome.” He slumps down, determined to finally have your eyes meet his. The curtain of your flowing hair is a weak shield against these efforts. You can feel the heat of his escalating breath tickle at your cheeks. He swoops in closer slowly, with the caution of closing in on a skittish prey. “It’s just you and me, little star.”
The flat of his nose finally rests against yours, lips only a sudden movement away.
There are promises of familiar comfort and happiness in this intimate position. Your nature keens towards his gentle touch. It prompts you to hide away every other concern, worried that it could break this moment of tranquility. 
However, that is exactly what you do.
“You have to break it.” 
There is a pause, a moment of shock that you take advantage of. Slipping out his hold, you watch realization slink across his features. It’s blood chilling, the look of horror that is clearly evident upon his handsome face. It’s a rare thing to render Neteyam speechless. He has grown up learning how to lead and command a room with confidence and grace. Seeing him now, mouth agape as his thoughts lag, it’s easier to see that there is simply a normal man behind the mighty warrior. 
A male that you have managed to strip away the light in his eyes, all evidence of excitement lost. 
It is now that you can truly see the aching restlessness and lost nights of sleep in his demeanor. He wilts before you. 
“You don’t mean that.” He insists, voice now hollow of its usual domineering confidence. 
“I do.” The timber of your voice shivers and shakes, doing nothing to strengthen your resolve. Still, the lost look that Neteyam sends you absolutely wrenches at your heart. “It’s what’s best for everyone.”
Words that are meant to reassure him at least slightly only make his tail halt movement, obvious that the phrase only digs the dagger deeper into his chest. 
“Everyone?” He whispers, hairless eyebrows drawing together. Hesitant steps lead you backwards, eager to begin your journey away from this tornado of darkened emotions. Away from the raincloud you have created between the two of you. “You…this is what you want?”
Want.
That small word is a palpable distinction. To change this argument from what needs to be done to the inner workings of your desires and dreams. To veer it towards the ever flowing river of devotion and love you know will always be in your heart for him. It’s the one move that leaves you completely defenseless.
This is the last thing that you want. 
He has to know that. He must know that. And perhaps that is why he faces you with this question head on, forcing you to say the words out loud. It’s a towering wall that you have no hopes of climbing. Lying is not your strong suit. Neteyam knows that. 
“Please Neteyam.” You send your final plea before turning on your heel and bolting. Vanishing into the trees before he has a second to form one syllable.
Lying isn’t your strength, but hiding is something you are familiar with. 
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“She’ll probably cool down.” Lo’ak reassures him, handing a leaf with larvae to Neteyam. 
“What did I do wrong?” Neteyam wonders out loud. It’s difficult for Lo’ak to tell whether or not that question is rhetorical. The eldest Sully’s eyes are focused on the horizon, he’s lost. Off somewhere else. 
“Nothing, bro! Not everything is that simple.” 
Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam sees the wooden cup of strong drink pushed toward him but he declines. Drinking is the last thing he needs right now, although it is tempting. These past two days have been pure torture and sorrow. Washing every clouding thought away with the swig of fermented fruit would surely keep his mind off of you for a while, but it would never stop the permanent ache in his chest. 
Although Neteyam knows he must look awful because even his father encourages him to drink, despite the duties he is set to carry out the next day. Most nights he is advised to keep his wits about him, but Jake has let up since the event. 
“There has to be something I could’ve said. Perhaps something I can say now.” 
“Bro, you’ve already said more than enough. If your constant notes and begging haven’t got her to let you into the hut, I don’t think words are the problem here.” A grimace is etched into Lo’ak’s features but Neteyam turns away from the sight. He can’t handle the look of pity that his family seems to constantly be shooting him. 
He looks miserable. He is miserable. Every Na’vi with eyes can see that much. However, he doesn’t want sympathy. He needs solutions. A plan that will set things right again. Anything to bring his littler start back into his arms. 
“Ma Teyam,” Neteyiri gently coos, haunching forward to tuck on the tangled braids behind his ear. “Perhaps it is time to give her some space.” 
Usually his mother’s presence has the power to soothe away the worst of his worries, but today all he can do is sigh at her words. Sitting in problems has never been his strong suit. Neteyam is used to problem solving. Coming up with a strategy and executing it until the issue is nothing but a distant memory. He prays to Eywa that this too will become just that. Something that can be laughed at down the road.
However, sitting here now surrounded by people and never feeling more lonely, it’s hard to imagine ever laughing at such a thing. 
Neteyam continues to pick at the grass next to the untouched meal. The sun has been down for over an hour now. Dinner is wrapping up and there is still no sight of you…again. Every crunch of a leaf or flitter of voices has him turning to search for your small frame in the darkness. It’s an effort that leaves him empty handed every time but, no matter the frequency of failure he can’t stop himself from whipping his head around anyway. 
“You know, there was a time that I was upset with your father. Livid, actually. And yet here we are today.” Neytiri almost purrs, trying to comfort her son.
“Yeah and did he wait around and give you space?” The words come out harsher than intended but Neytiri doesn’t tell him off like usual. Instead her ears pin back and she runs a thumb across his cheek. Jake and Neytiri lock eyes from across the fire, a silent communication that has Jake clearing his throat. 
“I’m not sure if I’m the prime example in this scenario, kid.” A deep chuckle accentuates Jake’s words. He goes to close his mouth and leave it at that but his mate sends him one fierce look that lets him know he is far from done comforting their eldest. “I mean uh truth be told, I was an absolute knucklehead before I met your mother.”
“Still are.” She corrects him. 
Jake doesn’t try to fight against the claim, but he does nervously clasp the back of his neck, searching for the right words to say. 
“Tanhi still hasn’t eaten. Must go.” Neteyam abruptly calls, on his feet within a heartbeat. He gently cradles his untouched meal in the palm of his hand as he navigates his way out of the circle of his family. Neytiri sighs and Jake sends her an apologetic look as they watch their son slither off into the night once again. 
Even Tuk sends sad eyes in the direction of her older brother as he walks away. 
Upon reaching the dark curtains of your hut, Neteyam is unsure whether or not you still reside inside. There is no sign of light emanating inwards. For a moment he is convinced that you have slipped out during his absence, but then there is a ruffle of covers that his ears manage to pick up. Stalking forward carefully, he leans in to pick up on every sound possible. 
Even with his alpha hearing, there is little to no noise coming from the hut. Or at least no sound that is useful to him in any way. He wonders what you are up to within those darkened walls. His hindbrain urges him to go inside and find out for himself, cradle you in his arms till there are promises of never leaving again. However, he knows better than that. 
Neteyam waits to be invited in. 
“Tanhi?” The sound echoes through the night air, but no response comes. With a sigh he kneels down by the entrance, cautiously pushing the leaf underneath the thick rim of fabric.
“You missed dinner again.” Neteyam knows he shouldn’t expect a response at this point, but his tail still naturally droops to the floor when one doesn’t come. “I brought some for you.” 
He waits once more, but silence hangs heavy in the air. Neteyam’s ears twitch to focus in on the minute sounds again. The shallow breathing is confirmation enough of your presence. A part of him almost wishes that he is talking to a blank piece of fabric. If you had left then he could have at least spent that anxious energy scouring the forest for your slim frame. If you had left it would give him hope that you’ve hunted, eaten, gone on a walk. Anything that isn’t sitting in your hut. 
“Do me a favor, baby. Please eat something. Maybe you have been when I’m not breathing down your neck,” He gives a humorless laugh. “But…I just want to make sure you’re healthy. I’m starting to get worried.”
When the silence continues he doesn’t leave immediately. The weight of the stress and heartache is tangible. He can feel it in his bones. He can sense it when in the lag of his maneuvers and movements during flight in his training. Truth be told, Neteyam is sure that it’s visible to others, shining through in his trudging walk to and fro. 
Sitting here in the grass, the same place he had spent that first night you started icing him out, he can feel the weight of sleep pulling him downwards. The muscles of his body scream in protest at every movement. Physically his body is ready to give way, but his hindbrain weaves together signs of distress all night long. 
His instincts yearn to be close to you again, close to his mate who he shares a special connection with that nothing can replace. At times it is painful, that bond between the two of you. Neteyam remembers many days where that connection has been physically fortified by your time together, binding tighter with every brush of his fingers along your skin. However, he did not anticipate the effects of the opposite reaction. 
Going to sleep alone and cold, leaves a heavy weight on his chest. At times it feels almost suffocating. Sleeping outside of your hut doesn’t erase these pains, but it does dull them slightly. He wonders if you’ve ever stepped over him during his slumber. Actively trying to or not, his senses remain on high alert throughout the night. He can wake at the drop of a leaf, false hope that it may be your small form finally stepping past those heavy curtains. 
“Neteyam.” His head whips around at the voice, but it isn’t your honey timber that flits through his ears. Instead it comes from behind him, where Kiri stands with her hands woven together in front of her. 
“What’s wrong?” 
Not bothering to answer, she instead motions for him to follow her. He glances back at the entrance of your hut, but one look at Kiri’s down turned lips has him groggily shifting back onto his feet. She doesn’t speak till the two of them are out of ear shot. 
“Mom and Dad sent you?” Neteyam guesses, tail already drooping between his legs. It bothers him that his parents are rushing to bandage things up, treating him like a child. Advice is appreciated at the best of times, but this is his life. He is an adult, and has been for years now. The rift that has been fortified between you two is his problem to solve and therefore his choice on how to fix it. 
“No, just thought I would save you from making a fool of yourself.”  She continues to effortlessly lead him away from the hut. 
“I’m just dropping some food off.”
“I know.” There is no hint of mocking or disbelief in her tone. She simply grabs his hand gently and guides him back along the path home. Neteyam braces himself for a spew of advice but it never comes. Kiri to his surprise is silent, no hint of tension lingering between them. Still, he knows what message is being conveyed. No matter how much it hurts, he can’t continue to barricade your front door. 
It’s moments like these that Neteyam comes to truly admire how much his younger sister has grown up. She prances through the forest with a humble confidence. Each step taken with the certainty of belonging. Kiri no longer needs others to tell her who she is. Similarly she feels no need to press her opinions on her older brother. She waits patiently. As if she knows that he will come to her when the time is right.
It is a quality he looks upon with great fondness and gratitude. 
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Life has thrown you more obstacles than you care to count. This condition has been a stumbling block your entire life, but you refuse to let it keep you from the finishing line. You consider yourself a persevering person, one that is not easily taken down. When things get difficult you have always been taught to gather your bearings and get to work. Some sacrifices are painful but meant to be left behind if they are keeping you from fulfilling a happy and purposeful life. 
So for the first few days, you try to get back into your normal routine. The first night was spent weaving baskets together through the blurred vision of your tears. The basket came out looking like it had been mauled by a Palulukan. Regardless you continued to attempt getting back into your old routine, however those were usually filled with night hunts, an activity you were terrified of seeing Neteyam at. So you declined. 
However, truth be told, it only takes twenty four hours to realize that this heartbreak is intruding upon everything you do. You open your eyes as sunset turns to Eclipse and the first thing that surfaces is the dread at needing to go to communal dinner. So, you push dinner off. Neteyam is persistent in bringing you a plate each night, usually saying a few apologies and begging once again for you to come out. 
Your lips are raw and sore from biting into them in order to keep sobs at bay every time he comes to visit. Those first few nights he spent laying outside your hut was an awful mixture of longing and agony. His potent essence was easily carried through the night wind, constantly bringing it to your senses. You had twisted in the thin blankets on your hammock to stop yourself from going out there and cuddling next to him. 
On the third night, he doesn’t stay. 
You expect to feel relieved when he silently sets the serving of food down and leaves.
And yet, there is a part of you that longs for the draw of his smooth voice, no matter how distraught and rough it has become over the past few days. A part of you seems to also intrinsically sense his presence, even in the midst of slumber. Now that he spends his nights away from your hut, the emotional turmoil has become too much to handle.  
Simple tasks pose as daunting accomplishments, ones that already feel like impending defeat. So, you slowly start losing those habits too. Your eyes run out of tears to shed so instead you spend more than a reasonable amount of time pondering on your life. You consider what it is that brought you to these circumstances, questioning whether or not you were the one to blame for this heartbreak. Perhaps, you were the one easily swayed into promises of fairy tales. 
Before you know it a whole week has passed and you haven’t stepped foot outside. Recognizing this fact makes you feel pathetic and helpless, something that you don’t take a liking to. So, with red rimmed eyes and a congested nose, you take up a new purpose. Wielding together weapons from the materials in your hut. 
Although they’re nothing to gawk at, the finished results are enough to convince yourself that you are contributing to the welfare of the clan. The steps are repetitive and allow your thoughts to wander while doing so. By the second week you have donated a fair amount to the hunting parties without having to leave your home, thanks to the kindness of your mother. 
Your parents drop in frequently, but it’s obvious that they too find these visits painful. It’s an emotional ball and chain to see you wither away into something different. Visits that used to be full of vibrant laughter and storytelling now consist mostly of their own updates and pleas for you to come outside. Each time you assure them that you will…soon. 
It’s not a lie, at least not to you. 
Despite the physical ache of your heart every time you think of Neteyam’s smiling face and the bond that is now nothing but dust between you, there is still hope in your heart. A hope that someday you will recover from these lovesick feelings and finally be able to look upon the Omatikaya prince as any other clan member would. Purpose will return to your everyday tasks and Neteyam will only reside in your mind as Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya. 
Still, you would be naive to ignore the weighted awareness of his presence that consumes you every time he comes to drop meals off. You can sense him before his footsteps are even audible. Occasionally, he will say a few encouraging words or promises of solution but some nights he simply places the food there and stares at it sadly before disappearing once more. Both instances strangle your heart in their grasp. 
You thought that his scent would lessen once the bond was broken, but you figure it is alpha status to thank for always sending his essence of fresh pine through your hut at each visit. In some ways it feels like the only full breaths you took. The woven walls still allow air in, but only breezes warped with his scent remind you of being outside. 
It’s on the two week mark that there is a shift in the miserable routine. No meal is brought to the entryway. Hours go by and Neteyam never comes by. You’ve been living off of those nightly meals and while one meal is not hardly enough to maintain a status of full health, its loss is even worse. At first, it appears that Neteyam has given up. He is tired of chasing after you and rightfully so you suppose. This is meant to be a step in the right direction, but you cry yourself to sleep that night. Apparently, your body had an extra storage of tears after all. 
However, when it happens again, your theories start to change. A small slice of fruit is left outside on a leaf by the curtains in place of a meal. It’s delicious with juice squirting along your tongue in a dramatic symphony of taste. It’s the type of experience that leaves one wanting for more. Initially you are disappointed when the small piece is gone, but you remember where this food comes from. It would only take a five minute walk to approach the communal fire and snatch some away for yourself. 
Only moments away from dipping outside that entry way for the first time in two weeks, you have another thought. 
Neteyam only put one piece.
Would it not have been easier to leave a whole fruit rather than take the time to cut and separate one morsel of it onto a leaf as an offering.
It wasn’t an offering, it was an enticement. 
You stay behind, trying to forget the sweet tang of the dessert. 
Sure enough the suspicion is correct when the next night one piece of wrapped chocolate is left outside with a note.
Found this during the raid this week. There’s a whole bag left sitting in my hut. Let me know if you want some more.
-Neteyam 
The chocolate is a tiny ball wrapped in a red textured material that is unfamiliar to Pandora. Chocolate is something you never knew of before Neteyam. However, now it has become one of your all time favorite delicacies, especially with the rarity of its availability. Neteyam took a great liking to showing you around the outpost and the stocked treasures they were stealing from the old Hell’s Gate post and the new trains they were constantly raiding. He would explain the random customs and stories of Sky People that he hears from his father while carefully unwrapping the delicious pieces for you. 
Some days you would even have him read some of the English text, whether from the wrappers or other books that are kept around the outpost for the human scientists to enjoy at their leisure. You never understand a word of what he says, but the sounds are fascinating to hear in Neteyam’s familiar timber. Although the Mother Tongue of the Sky Demons, you’ve always been fascinated by Neteyam’s ability to speak it. Something very distinctly attractive about his extra abilities. 
You sigh and thumb at the round ball of chocolate. It melts on your tongue, creating an explosion of sweet smooth sensations. Leave it to Neteyam to try and lure you out through your love of chocolate. That night you flatten out the wrapper, running your thumb over the English text that appears as nothing more than scribbles to you. It serves as a painful reminder of the golden memories the two of you have shared. 
It remains clamped in your fist the entire day.
Heavy eyelids blinking open slowly, you can still feel the strange texture of that wrapper between your fingers. Contrary to your lack of activity, your body feels sore. Every muscle seems to be wound the wrong way and the air in your hut feels moist and stuffy. Stretching out, your foot hits the food supplies basket you keep and knocks it over. You stumble to put the object away, or rather you try to before you realize that it’s empty.
The last of your supplies is gone. 
Regardless of your feelings and fears, you need to go outside today. It’s time to face the music. 
Your toes curl and feet flex before carefully shifting to stand. Pushing aside clusters of baskets and tools you finally breach the front entryway of your hut. Expecting the air to have cooled down by now, your skin prickles strangely at the feeling of heat against your back. You rush to throw off whatever blanket or item of clothing that must have stuck to you but then your eyes are blinded. Sheer light invades your vision, drenching every sight in white. 
Stumbling across the forest floor, it truly takes you more than a moment to understand what is happening. The harsh light, the foreign heat. This is sunlight.
A pure beam of sunlight that has not disappeared behind the moon yet. 
Your delayed reaction finally allows you to search for the entryway and try to scramble towards safety but it’s impossible to see with the brightness of the world turned up to one hundred. Your eyes can’t manage to stay open for more than a second, each time feeling a burning sensation that is unbearable. Soon, though, it seems to be too late as your limbs grow heavy and your skin heats uncomfortably. Even when that last ray of sunshine disappears, your body continues to torment you with a rising heat.
The sensations become too much. The weight of your own head drags you down. The world spins around you in disorienting directions. Only a glimpse of blue skin is caught before you collapse into someone’s arms and the world turns blissfully black again. 
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“Move before I kick you out.” Mo’at warns, but her tone holds a morsel of sympathy despite the strict instruction. 
You are laid out along the mat of her healer’s tent with half the Sully family gathered around. Neteyam can hardly keep his hands off of you, constantly checking to see if you have cooled down yet. Each time renders him disappointed, ears folding back against his head. Mo’at is quickly losing patience as she is constantly swatting the boy away in order to apply the series of healing balms. 
“She’s burning up.” He protests, but finally moves out of her way. His idle hands find a new place along his knees where the blunt nails dig into his skin. Kiri and Tuk surround their brother but are careful to not impede too much on his space. His panicked dread rolls off of him in waves, a palpable tension that can be felt by everyone in the tent. 
“How long was she exposed?” 
“I don’t know. Can’t be more than a few minutes maybe. She was hardly past the entrance when I found her…I….is she going to be ok?” His voice cracks as tears finally well up over his golden orbs. Tuk places her small hand on his shoulder. 
“Only the Great Mother knows that.” She pauses, looking up to see her grandson’s crumbling composure. “She is hot. Her temperature needs to drop significantly.” 
The message doesn’t seem to settle on Neteyam. His gaze continues to focus on your unconscious face.
“Neteyam.” His head finally snaps up at his grandmother’s stern voice. “Go fetch me cold water from the river.” A basin is handed to the alpha but she can already tell there is reluctance in his expression. 
“Now.” It’s harsher than Mo’at would like to be but she knows that getting the concerned alpha outside of the tent is essential for her to complete the healing rituals. His presence is a distraction that has her own emotions tugging her away from the work at hand. 
Neteyam purses his lips and sends one last glance towards you. He cradles your cheek and leans down to softly press a kiss to your forehead, whispering promises to return. Then finally, he rushes out of the tent, driven by the given task. 
The hours rush and drag simultaneously for Neteyam. It becomes difficult to believe that it has already been a full twenty four hours and yet every minute that your eyes are not open feels like a year to him. Jake recruits Norm and some of the other scientists to take a look at you in the outpost. Moat is naturally displeased by the change at first but even she can’t deny that the old metal portable is a safer place for you to hide from the sun. Thick blankets and rugs are hung over the windows to keep the rays of sunshine out. 
Between the expertise of the scientists with their modern technology and the healing powers of Tsahik, things begin to look grim when there is little to no change in your state. Neteyam becomes increasingly more tense with every passing hour that yields no result. At some point his family stops trying to convince him to take breaks. Tuk takes it upon herself to gather and deliver a good serving from the communal fire for her older brother at every meal. 
Kiri is constantly teetering between helping her grandmother wrap cooling salves of thick leaves on your skin and foraging through the forest for different materials that could be used to create various healing ointments. 
Lo’ak tries to provide his brother with some pleasant company. If not that, then at least an annoying younger brother that can keep his mind off the matter for a few minutes. He tells jokes and shares random stories, usually featuring young alphas and the things their idiotic pride leads them to do. He has a plethora of these events saved up, having been training the new batch of future warriors almost daily. Those stories shift to other couples’ drama and fights when Neteyam laments over the past few weeks, assuring his brother that rough patches are normal in relationships and that perhaps he is not the worst skxawng to be found in the forest. 
Jake and Neytiri watch the scene with sorrowful eyes, discussing in the privacy of their home what needs to be done for their son and you. 
At hour thirty six, you begin to squirm. Every muscle seems to creek with each movement, seemingly as rusty and worn as the door to the outpost that takes an extra shove to open. It’s the burning heat that you notice next. It seems to travel along your veins and cover you in a suffocating cloud. It brings on feelings of almost claustrophobic symptoms. 
Finally, the flutter of your lashes reveal your golden eyes to the synthetic lighting of the outpost makeshift hospital wing. Only one electric light is turned on down the hallway. The rest of the ambience comes from lit candles scattering the surfaces around you. Their flicker is soft and soothing, but it’s the familiar scent of timber and pine that has your muscles finally relaxing. 
The surface beneath your head is cool to the touch, you rub your cheek against it. 
“Tanhi.”
That soft makeshift pillow is his thigh. Your already burning cheeks seem to reach new levels of inflamed rose color as you drowsily look up at him.
“You’re awake.” His voice is thick with emotion, almost choking the sounds from his throat. On its own volition your hand shakily reaches up to swipe away the tear traveling down his cheek. His skin is cool to the touch, such a different contrast to the usual warmth that you remember radiating off of him in your nights together. Your thin arm shakes from the strain of holding it upwards, he grabs your wrist gently and reluctantly helps you lower it back to your side. 
“Yes.” The sound comes out more hoarse and gravelly than you anticipated. You clear your throat before continuing. “How long have I been out?” 
“Over a day.”
A few moments of sunlight and suddenly a day and a half has been taken from you. It’s a lot to process, especially with the hazy pounding assaulting your head with every moment. The usual strength and energy in your body seems to have greatly dissipated, leaving you feeling as nothing but a shell of your normal self. Your attempt at sitting up is not only hindered by the strain of your abs but also cut short by Neteyam’s large hands gently pushing you back down. 
“No no Tanhi, just rest. Don’t strain yourself.” It’s too easy to settle your head back onto his welcoming lap. A small voice at the back of your head warns you of reversing all the progress that has been made, but it seems insignificant when Neteyam begins to tenderly brush his fingers through your hair. Nothing can take away the ache of your body and heat of your blood boiling but his touch does finally stir your heartbeat into a steady rhythm. It’s as if a weight is lifted off of you as your senses become filled with his essence. Every point of contact between you is like fire and ice. He is the ice that you welcome greatly, the only thing that seems to relieve the burning along your skin. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, eyes almost closed once more. 
“Whatever for, love?”
“I don’t mean to trouble you. I should’ve been more diligent, tracking the sun’s cycle..” Your lungs seize into a painful invisible grip, forcing a coughing fit to begin. Neteyam is quick to shush your sentence away and help you get some cool water down. His large hand rests over the heat of your forehead. The eldest Sully frowns down at you, no doubt still feeling the evidence of your raging fever. 
“Hush, Tanhi. There’s no place I would rather be right now.” 
You watch the shadows dance across lines of his collarbones and sharp features as he prepares another cool wrap to lay across your forehead. The grip you have on conscious thought is weak, but even at your mental peak you are sure that there is nothing more beautiful than the man above you. His harsh and sharp features that frame those kind and insightful eyes. He has an ethereal beauty that has always captured you. 
 “You’re going to be ok.” It’s unclear whether or not the sentiment is meant for you or rather himself. His hairless brows pinch into those familiar clenched lines. You recognize them from days he would come home to, the evidence of his still racing thoughts clearly etched into his features. 
Through the constant ache of your body and heat that tries to lure you to sleep, it takes you a moment to recognize the pheromones drifting off of him. You’re surprised to find that you can still identify the shift of emotions through his essence. Supposedly your sense of smell is better than you thought for a beta. The curling sadness and anxiety that comes off of him in waves, however, is something you wish could not be so easily detected. It is foreign and strange when mixed with his calming perfume. Neteyam isn’t usually one easily frazzled. 
Neteyam settles a clear plastic over your mouth and it takes a moment before you recognize it as the Avatar oxygen masks. The air filtered through it is clearer and more readily accepted by your lungs. After a few breaths you nod at him and he pulls it away again. 
Silence ensues. You yearn to break it with some semblance of an apology or explanation, but the words never come. Your body has other ideas as it drifts in and out of consciousness. Several times you wake to see another member of the Sully family perched next to Neteyam. However, the oldest Sully child never leaves. The hold you have on time becomes almost nonexistent as you slip back and forth between reality and fever induced dreams.
 Eventually you begin to wake periodically in Neteyam’s arms, head laying on his chest or coddled in his lap. Each time you consider saying something, knowing that he is no longer your mate. You have no claim on him and therefore no right to use him in this way, but his skin is cool and calms the sizzling heat upon your own. The very idea of creating distance between you two causes a spike of anxiety to take hold. 
It would be all too easy to blame this on your fever and the aid he provides, even in your state of watered down thought you know the truth. There is a yearning to be close to him again. To feel the gentle caresses that line your lips and cheeks as you sleep. To fall into a fantasy where the two of you never split, convincing yourself that today is simply a small sick day where your mate pampers you. The natural instincts of your beta nature furthermore aches for the calming presence of an alpha. Even the simple actions of his rising and falling chest that contains a steady heartbeat lulles your nature into a submissive calm. 
It is such a dramatic contrast to the empty abyss that has replaced your heart over the past few weeks. Falling into Neteyam feels natural, as expected as the waves that crash against the shore. It’s an ironic feeling to have considering the most inconvenient and problematic characteristics of your relationship. He was never meant to be yours. 
You chant those words in your head, willing them to echo true. 
This time, your eyes flutter lazily open to the feeling of his slim tail wrapping itself around your upper thigh. With creaky drowsiness you look up to find him fast asleep, lips parted softly with shallow breaths escaping soundlessly. Sprawled across him, head on his chest, this position resembles that of your usual sleeping position together. Or at least, what it used to be. Before the first cracks of dawn you would slip back into the tent and gently fall into his dozing embrace. It was not uncommon to find his tail slink around one of your limbs possessively all while never stirring from his unconscious state. 
Looking around the dingy outpost, it’s just the two of you. The plastic material of the mask around your neck feels uncomfortable around your heated skin. You find a matching one around Neteyam’s own throat. Although showing no signs of struggling breathing, you gently place it against his lips. When the clear oxygen filtered through his lips, Neteyam stirs.
You contemplate faking sleep when his ears twitch and eyes slowly open, but they immediately land on you. 
“Yawne.” Neteyam groans, voice thick with sleep. The deep rumble of his morning voice always makes your stomach do somersaults. “How are you feeling, Tanhi?” 
His ears pin back when you veer away from his efforts to cup your cheek. 
“A bit better.” Your arms tremble as they push against Neteyam pectorals to try and sit up properly. Despite his gentle protests, you finally manage to remain upright for the first time in days. The room spins around you. It’s only by the grace of Neteyam’s hands supporting your back that you remain sitting. “What time is it?” 
It feels like night but then again the heavy blankets over the outpost windows would show no indication of broad daylight if present. 
“Middle of the night.” 
“Then I should go.” Your feet are barely planted on the ground before Neteyam is pulling you back into his arms. 
“You don’t really think I’m going to let you out there in this condition, do you?” His chest rumbles with a stern timber, but his hold is tender and gentle. You are tempted to roll your eyes at the protective behavior, but you’re worried that doing so would put the room back into orbit again. 
“You need rest.” 
“I can rest at home.” 
“Like hell you will.” Neteyam scoffs, using another phrase he so commonly picks up from his father. You can practically feel the protective growl that yearns to climb up his throat, but a sigh comes out in its place. “You’re shaking, Tanhi. Let me take care of you.” 
His knuckles graze your cheek delicately, sending a cool shiver along your shoulders. 
“I don’t think that is a good idea.” 
Neteyam’s hand stills before dropping heavily to his lap. The heated breath coming from his lips tickles at the back of your neck. Were it not for your already trembling form you are sure that his presence alone would erupt goosebumps and shivers along your body. The pressing weight of silence is dizzying, tempting you to lay back down. You can practically hear the cogs in his head turning at a rapid pace. 
“Please just hear me out for a moment.”
Turning around to face him takes more effort than you would like to admit. Seeing those sad golden eyes without melting takes even more. 
“Five minutes is all I ask.” You hesitate, biting your bottom lip. “And if by the end of it you are sick of hearing from me then I promise I will leave you alone. My grandmother will take over caring for you and I will…respect your wishes.” His words are strangled, that suffocating dread pulling his features into a deep frown. 
“Ok.” 
The shimmer of hope is barely visible in his shining eyes but it still wrenches your heart. 
“My entire life has been about being Olo’eyktan. I’ve watched my father lead the people since I could barely walk and since then I have always known that someday that would be me. I wake up every day and the first thought that comes to mind is what needs to be done in order to become the mighty leader that everyone expects me to be. For a long time I’ve thought that my path was already decided by Eywa. Find an omega suitable of being tsahik, settle down with her, and lead till my son can take over. I was ok with that, I’d accepted my fate.” Neteyam shifts to his knees, fingernails digging slightly into his own thighs. Apprehension spoils his scent, creating a new mixture you are unfamiliar with. It’s then that you realize you’ve never seen Neteyam nervous before. 
“Then I met you.” 
Your eyes dart to the laminate floor. 
“I…I’m usually a lot better with words.” He chuckles nervously while rubbing the back of his neck. “It occurred to me recently that I’ve been negligent in our relationship. I never truly explained why I chose you. Why you are the person I can’t live without. Perhaps if I had we wouldn’t be in this situation now.” 
“Neteyam it’s not-”
“Please let me finish, Tanhi.” 
You nod softly, careful to not increase the already blooming headache pounding at your skull. 
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” A weak snort transforms into a cough raking up your throat. “I don’t mean because of ailment, yawne.” He clarifies and you suddenly feel embarrassed for assuming so quickly. Neteyam pauses his little speech to reach behind and once again carefully bring a cup of water to your parched lips. Gratefully, you let the cool substance slink down your throat to soothe the scratchy ache. 
Once he seems to be sure that another fit is not about to come on, Neteyam continues. 
“You have this unyielding spirit, determined to forage through any storm. Eywa herself puts you in the shadows and you conquer the terrain. The air around you hums with a quiet confidence that is…” He searches for the right word. “Intoxicating.” 
A laugh escapes your lips and yet you feel nothing resembling humor. Your hairless eyebrows scrunch in disbelief. Neteyam shows no acknowledgment of your reaction as he instead puts the mask back against your mouth. 
“I’ve been drawn to you since that first night hunt. Surely, that isn’t a secret.” He laughs into his own mask that is raised to his lips. If only he knew how oblivious you were to his intentions those first few weeks. “You’re fiercely determined and independent yet hold a gentle empathy and kindness for those around you that I could only ever hope to imitate. And stubborn too.” Neteyam chuckles with a shake of his head. “Fucking stubborn enough to tell a dumb alpha like me off, consequences be damned.” 
Your lungs can only manage a simple huffed laugh, but the corners of your lips are already turning upwards subconsciously. 
“When I’m around you,” His eyes pierce through you. “I can finally bear that weighted pressure of expectations on my chest. You make it light.” Neteyam leans forward and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your upturned ear. “My little star.” 
Your cheeks are damp and it is only then that you realize tears drops have been escaping your eyes. Neteyam thumbs them away with tender care. 
“I’ve grown accustomed to sacrificing whatever it takes to become Olo’eyktan. I’ve written my life off as not my own. I’ve given everything I can and could in order to fulfill this role. You are the only thing that I can not sacrifice. And maybe that is selfish of me, but I also know that without you I’m simply a shell of the man I am with you.” 
“I could never be Olo’eyktan without you by my side.” 
“But how am I supposed to be beside you when I can’t even step a foot into the sun without falling apart at the seams?” 
“You truly think that I haven’t thought about that, yawne?” Neteyam’s lips quirk into an amused smile. “I guess now would be a good time to tell you that Lo’ak and I have been building a black out healers tent.” You gape at him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I suppose I should’ve known better than to think I could pull one over on you.” 
It’s foolish, you tell yourself. Another darkened tent doesn’t solve all of the problems. It doesn’t erase the strain this relationship would have on Neteyam or allow you to operate during the daytime hours, unless you are content to remain in the tent for all of your days. And yet, there is a sliver of hope growing in your bosom. 
“Nete, I don’t know what to say.” His braids swing over the intense eyes that focus on your every move. He’s tense, ready to jump in at the notice of resistance. “But, I can’t live my life in a dark tent.” 
“Of course not. I’m talking about a compromise. Lo’ak, he takes over in the mornings while you and I start the day in the midafternoons. Tsahik duties in the tent for a few hours and then the rest of the night spent together. Leading together. Hunting together.” The dopey grin that spreads upon his lips is fiercely adamant in capturing your heart once more. It takes everything in you to not reach out and pinch the mighty warrior’s cheek. A notion Neteyam is known to reprimand with a playful glare. 
“You make it sound so simple.” It’s too much to meet his gaze. You prefer the view of the worn down tiles as you take another calming breath from the mask. The pace of your heart is evermore increasing and part of you wonders if this conversation has the ability to make you faint. 
A hand beneath your chin gently prods you to look back up again. He whispers your name, soft but clear in the quiet outpost.
“We have a choice.”
The words weigh heavy in the air, drawing your ears to perk forward in anticipation. 
“I know that may sound like a lie to you. However, if there is anyone that understands their life being determined from birth, it’s you. You and I have been pushed and kept into our respective boxes, taught to dream of only the realistic paths ahead of us.”
You wish to say it’s untrue, but any other reality has been stripped away from you from your first breath and morphed into only that of fairy tales. 
“We get to choose whether or not we believe that. I’ve accepted my destiny, Tanhi, but I can not bring myself to see my journey walking besides anyone that’s not you. I’ve already chosen. You are what I will not sacrifice.” Neteyam’s calloused fingers weave into your hair, hands on the sides of your head. 
“It’s your turn, Tanhi. What do you choose?”
“Is that your definition of fumbling words?” Your chuckle is choked with tears. Neteyam’s short laughter joins your own, his lips already starting to spread into that smile you adore so much. 
The past few weeks have been a constant building of that fortress around your heart. You’ve tried to convince yourself over and over again that the two of you parting ways is for the best. These mantras have ripped your heart out and left you in a state of empty sadness, but they also have created a sturdy wall, one that is hard to crumble. Naturally, it is Neteyam that ever stands a chance at breaking through. Sweet Neteyam that knows you so thoroughly that he doesn’t require brute force to get through, he finds a hold from the inside, reading you like a book until there is nothing left for you to hide. 
This experience has been a draining uphill battle, but one that you have embarked on because you’ve been convinced that the right thing to do is often the hard thing. However, now, the story shifts. You are left wondering if perhaps this whole time, running away is not the hard thing at all. It’s staying that proves to be the most difficult battle to fight. It’s staying that requires your heart to be opened and at the mercy of failure and disappointment. Leaving Neteyam isn’t the noble cause you once thought it to be. 
It’s hiding. 
“You really have some nerve calling me stubborn.” You try to joke, but tears are already cascading down your cheeks at an alarming rate and you can tell Neteyam is seconds away from scooping you back into his lap. 
“Well I admit being stubborn has its reward sometimes.” He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Perhaps it’s paid off for me this time?” 
“Perhaps.” You smile coyly at him. It takes bracing a stabilizing hand against the floor to stop yourself from falling over when you lean forward but it’s worth the exhilarating feeling of his lips against yours once more. 
Neteyam is cautious and gentle, moving his lips softly in sync with yours, but you can feel the restraint it takes for him not to swallow you whole. However, you are still healing so Neteyam treats you the way you expect any alpha to: like a delicate flower. Your own tears wet the canvas of both of your cheeks and it takes a moment to realize that small droplets are falling from Neteyam’s eyes too.
The kiss is warm and tender. Relief washes through your body in a wave that makes you realize how much pain you truly were in. How even the very bones in your body finally lose their ache when Neteyam slips an arm around your back to bring you closer. 
You’re forced to break the kiss earlier than desired as Neteyam can feel the way your body lags to get air into its lungs. The soft pants that leave your lips are soon encased by the mask that the alpha slips over your mouth once more. The warmth of his gaze beaming down on you spreads across your chest and lights another fire along your skin. 
“Come home, Neteyam.” You whisper softly. His forehead leans against your own, those golden orbs still shimmering with unshed tears. 
“Always, Tanhi.” 
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The hours float by in a happily dazed dream afterwards. Neteyam’s touch starved state comes fully into the light as he is constantly keeping a point of contact between you two. It’s obvious that his alpha hindbrain has gone off the wall after being apart for so long and furthermore trying to care for you without going too far. Now that the green light has been given, Neteyam is constantly wrapping his body around your own smaller form till you are almost completely encapsulated by him. 
Truthfully, you have no objections. In fact, even your own instincts push you towards readily accepting and initiating any forms of affectionate touch. It further helps that Neteyam’s skin is cool to the touch in comparison to your own raging feverish skin. 
Within half a day your wellbeing has greatly increased after the constant nurturing of your overprotective alpha, who seems to be constantly slipping water, food, medicine, or mask given air past your lips. Mo’at is greatly pleased when your temperature begins to return back to its former state and there is a greater strength present in your body. Still, she instructs you to lay low for another day as a precaution. 
Neteyam is more than happy to keep you to himself for another day. Watching you come close to the brink of death has his primal urges dialed to eleven. You have to scold him every now and then when his younger brother comes to visit and Neteyam thanks him with an aggressive hiss and tucking you safely into his arms and away from the ‘threat’. 
It’s borderline shocking to see his strong reactions considering the severed bond between the two of you. That is, until you find the truth.
“I admit, it might’ve been selfish Tanhi but I couldn’t bring myself to cut our tie before knowing that I had tried everything possible to get you back.”
He had looked up at you with a guilty composure but after everything the two of you had been through you couldn’t hide your relief and joy in finding out that this bond had still survived the heartache. It also provides a greater explanation to your own body's willingness to melt into him with or without a resolution. Now, though, you are content to let him have his fun babying you for one day more and revill in the renewed connection the two of you share.  
This time when you awake in the newly hung hammock inside of the outpost (Neteyam had used every angle possible to convince the human scientists to let him temporarily take up the space) you’re surprised to find your mate’s skin hot against your own. His thumping heartbeat rickets in your eardrums but instead of rocking you to sleep, the sound sends shivers down your spine. 
Neteyam is blissfully unaware of your consciousness as your own heart starts to speed up. Shifting your leg, it’s a surprise to feel a sticky texture lining the inside of your loincloth. Blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize the source of this substance. Bashfully you’re relieved to see Neteyam is still asleep, allowing your arousal to remain a private humiliation. 
With the cautiousness of a sneaking Palulukan, you attempt rolling off of the hammock and out of his arms to take care of your little problem. It’s only halfway rolling over to your side when the Omatikaya prince shifts and spoons you from behind. All plans are immediately thwarted when his muscular thigh slips between your splayed legs innocently. However, the pressure it incidentally puts against your clit brings forth feelings that are anything but innocent. 
A veiny forearm easily clamps around your waist to pull you back against his chest. The act rubs his thighs against your clothed folds so suddenly, that it brings a whimpered moan from your lips. Breath hitched in your throat, you wait to see if Neteyam stirs. He shows no sign of waking so you try to scoot your heated core away from his thigh slyly. 
Not only are these efforts unrewarded but also bring a tinge of sadness coursing through you. It’s a strange wave of emotion that follows. Arousal quickly windles into full blown desperation within a few heartbeats. The sensations are overpowering, racing through every surface of your body until all that your mind can focus on is the need to be filled by a mate. 
Filled by Neteyam.
“Oh Great Mother.” You curse quietly. 
Your first heat.
A momentous milestone that your parents have talked to you in great lengths about yet still brings nothing to light on the reality of the experience. You’ve had smaller mini episodes of heat, normal in the beginning of adulthood for Na’vi betas, but it’s only a laughable comparison to the clawing desire taking over your body currently. As a beta you figured that your own heats would be miniscule compared to the laborious heats that plague omegas earlier in their years. 
Involuntarily rocking your clothed core against Neteyam’s thigh you now wonder how these Na’vi have ever survived such a demanding lust and lived to tell the tale. And that is what it feels like. Death if not satisfied. Pain if not satiated. 
Embarrassment is thrown out the window in favor of creating a pleasurable friction against your clit. Hardly ever having experienced touching yourself on the rare occasion, you have no idea what to do. The corded muscle of his relaxed thigh feels better than your usual small fingerings drumming against the bundle of nerves, so you continue to rock back in a desperate rhythm. 
The hammock starts to sway softly with your jutting hips. Some movements are rewarded with a spark of pleasure, only to then be absent on the next rock of your hips. Frustration is quick to brew as you can’t seem to find the right angle and pressure against your core. Shiny slick drenches through the thin fabric and onto the alpha’s thigh. It acts as a lubricant for your journey across his skin, allowing a faster pace to be adopted. 
Your pussy clenches around open air, beckoning for a worthy mate to finally fill and claim you properly. It’s an emptiness that you can only compare to the tingling you have experienced after especially long makeout sessions with Neteyam, but it’s worse. So much worse that it brings tears to your eyes. The only relief is found when a lucky thrust finally has the fabric pushed away from your core and lets your small clit peek out and press against his azure skin. 
Now without any barriers, pure ecstasy wracks through your body. It only amplifies when the muscles flex slightly beneath you, giving just the right amount of pressure against your clit. A knot forms and tightens in your stomach, quickly winding until it feels as if it’s about to snap. It feels almost dirty to realize that your slick has now coated the entirety of Neteyam’s thigh all while he is sleeping and yet it lures you further into a state of arousal than you have ever been before. 
Your own thighs clench harshly around Neteyam’s to trap it against your core. A release clear on the horizon, every effort is put into maintaining that delicious sensation of your clit being assaulted against the muscle. Legs shaking and small squeaks erupting from your throat you chase that feeling relentlessly. 
“Cum, Tanhi.” 
Neteyam’s raspy voice pushes you over the edge with a shocked gasp. His rumbling growl of satisfaction seems to pulse through you in sync with the overwhelming sensations of an orgasm. 
“Good girl.” He praises as your body trembles in the afterglow of release. Neteyam chuckles when a simple flex of his thighs has a whimper spilling your lips. Swirling patterns are drawn by the alpha’s fingers along your sides and arms. 
Mental clarity returns in a flash, allowing the reality of the situation to sink in. You hide your heated face against his arm underneath your head while groaning in humiliation. 
“Nete.” You whine.
“Hush, baby girl. It’s alright, no reason to get all shy on me now.” He coos while swiping your hair away from your cheek to finally have an unobscured view of your blushing face. “Especially not when you make such pretty noises.” 
The words crumble any wall of resistance against the impending heat. Your body yearns for another release, still screaming at you for not being filled with your alpha’s cock yet. A cock that you can feel hardening beneath Neteyam’s loincloth and poking at your lower back. 
“Neteyam, it really hurts.” 
“I know, Tahini, I know.” He soothes, softly kissing your temple while brushing the strands of hair away. “My poor little star. A bit stronger than you expected, hm?” 
When his thigh finally shifts away from your leaking pussy, despite the strength of your clamped legs, a noise of disappointment escapes you. 
“So much worse. Neteyam please!” It’s hard to say what you are begging for specifically, but the alpha is quick to calm your worries with sweet nothings. Your limbs kick out and try to wind around any of his, subconsciously finding ways  to trap his body closer to yours. 
“If you want help, all you have to do is say, yawne. I know how to take care of my girl.” He turns you by the chin to make direct eye contact with him, a silent second measure to make sure this is truly what you desire. Hesitating is far from your mind as you nod and whine out little pleas.
Satisfied with your consent Neteyam grins and begins to descend down your body. Confusion swirls in your eyes when he situates your legs over his shoulders. The sex talk from your parents may not have been that descriptive but you know enough to realize that his cock is nowhere near your drenched entrance. 
“How does that…” You trail off, head tilted to the side. 
“Just need to get your ready first, Tanhi. Want my baby girl to feel good.” Pointed teeth poke out beneath his lips in his open mouth grin. The pads of his fingers tenderly brush and tease along your outer thighs, slowly making their way to your inner. Tingles of anticipation and pleasure trickle up your body. It boggles you how such a light tracing heightens your lust to new levels. 
“How?” 
His face softens and Neteyam coos at you while tucking a strand behind your ear. 
“Just trust me, little star. I promise you’ll like it.” 
So you do, even when his face lowers to your partly clothed mound. Neteyam’s nose presses against your pussy and he sucks in air like a man on the brink of drowning. Your cheeks set aflame at having his face so close to your special place, something you had never considered before. The rumble of power in his hungry growl, however, washes away any insecurity that would plague your mind. 
“Smell so delicious, Tanhi.” He purrs.
Neteyam’s creates a path of wet kisses along your inner thighs. Careful grips on your knees allow him to maneuver your legs into whatever profane position he desires, easy access for his eager tongue and lips. His saliva and your slick become intermixed along the expanse of skin as he takes his time warming you up. Each time his lips come closer to your folds, you whimper needily. Heated lust entraps every thought you have, wondering how long it will be until the two of you finally become one. 
The first nips at your left inner thigh causes you to jump. His eyes look back up at you as the pointed tips of those canines teasingly scrape against your soft skin. 
“Just a little taste, yawne?” He asks, although the smirk along his lips suggests that it is less of a question and rather a warning. 
“A bite? T-there?” 
Neteyam chuckles at your clueless behavior. It’s been known among Na’vi to leave obvious hickeys and bites along one’s mate’s skin, but you’ve always assumed that to only be in places more visible and less…private. Your tail swishes anxiously as you think of those marks being so close to your heated entrance. 
“Yes, baby girl. A little mark to remember me by, hm?” 
A simple nod of your head is all the permission required for Neteyam to continue. He takes one last breath from the hanging mask before picking a spot on your inner thigh where the flesh is supple and tender, licking and kissing and the area in preparation. When his lips close around the plush skin and begin to suck, it sends tendrils of electricity straight to your core. Without even thinking you moan and grab at his hair. You’re stuck between the urge to push his head away and encourage him to suck harder. 
Once released, the skin is left with a pronounced purple mark. One lick is deposited on the spot before his teeth nip and tug at the skin. You squeal and arch your back dramatically, Neteyam moans darkly he has let it fall from between his teeth and begin to soothe the skin with kisses and licks. The entire act scratches a part of your brain that is primal, satisfied by the apparent claim he leaves for all to see. 
“Much better.” His tone drips with pride. “Thank you, Tanhi.” He kisses your knee in gratitude, as if you have given him some sacred gift, and perhaps for him that is true. 
It’s only now that it occurs to you how many times Neteyam has held back from staking his claim on you the way most alphas do. You vaguely remember the indented mark of his own teeth against his bottom lip that would draw blood, especially after you have shared an intimate moment or he saw another male eyeing you for too long. What you had originally shrugged off as a habit now transforms in your mind as an act of self control. 
Neteyam is quick but deliberate with his handy work of undoing the ties around your tail and hips. He slides the fabric away from your pelvis with an attitude of reverence. Cool air against your slick folds feels like a tickling touch that has your lust spiking dramatically. Burning eyes on your most sensitive area is like gasoline to the flames. 
You attempt to clench your thighs together to protect your dignity, but Neteyam hoists them apart and back on his shoulders sternly. 
“None of that, baby girl. Let me see how pretty you are.” 
And there’s something in that phrase and his undivided attention that makes your toes curl. It becomes blatantly obvious that if he doesn’t hurry up and get on with sticking his cock inside your pussy, you will fall apart at the seams before there is even a chance. 
“Neteyam, I’m ready. Please please I’m so ready.” You ramble, willing your legs apart to prepare easier access. Once he is inside everything will be better, although the thought of your virgin walls stretching around him causes a slight tinge of panic to break loose.
“Mawey, my love. It’s about to get good.” 
However, frustration and confusion bubble to the surface again when you see his face lowering back down. 
“No no, Nete. Enough kisses.” You whine. “I need you inside.”  
His brows push up at that, the corners of his lips perking slightly as if hesitant to fully grin.
“Are you sure, my love? We can still wait if you wa-”
“NO! No more waiting! I’m ready now. I need you right now.” 
He calls your name softly, but with a hint of unyielding sternness that lets you know it is important you listen. Even a beta can sense when the time to obey is present.
“You’re heat is a very powerful thing but also fleeting, Tanhi. I don’t want you to make such a big decision purely because of your primal instincts.” It’s a respectful and considerate gesture but your head is shaking before he is even close to finishing. If this man does not take you now, you’re ready to flip him over and sit on his member, inexperience be damned. 
“It’s not. I’ve been ready for weeks. W-was just waiting to tell you. Take me now, stick it in now.” The ringing in your ears, you realize is actually the accelerated blood thumping along the eardrums from your racing heart. It feels as if the speed will be enough to burst your ribcage open. “I’m ready.”
Neteyam watches as your eyes clench shut and hands scrape against the woven material of the hammock. You’re braced and ready for the pain that will ensue upon penetration. 
“Tahni,” Your eyes slowly peek open to see that the alpha hasn’t moved a muscle. “You love me, don’t you?” 
The question throws you off guard, but the answer comes easily.
“Of course.” 
“And you know that I love you?” 
“Yes Neteyam.” Your hips scoot against the fabric, pussy fluttering as it continues to wait for the incoming sensation. 
“And you trust me?” 
“Always, Nete.” 
The alpha hums happily at your response, muttering out a deep ‘good girl’. 
“Then I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing, baby girl. Trust that your alpha will take care of you.” He tenderly brushes his fingers over your soft stomach. “And trust me enough to say if or when something doesn’t feel good.” 
You nod hazily, keenly aware of the tickling sensation of his touch along your hips. 
“That’s my good girl. Now let me get you ready.”
It’s still confusing when you see his head lower towards your navel once more, but you don’t protest this time. He’s right, you do trust him and he does have far more experience with sex than you by far. Your upturned legs are spread even wider by his broad shoulders as he leans closer and lets the tips of his tongue drag over you from belly button to navel. The saliva line goes down further and further until…oh.
It takes his grip on your hips to keep them pressed against the hammock when his tongue brushes over your clit for the first time. It’s a pleasure that is completely foreign to you. Comparable to the spark of dopamine that comes from your small finger teasing the area and yet completely different in intensity. He draws sensual figure eights along the bundle of nerves several times before swooping down to collect more of your arousal between your folds. 
Neteyam is calculated with his exploring, performing in the way of someone who has crafted their art. When his tongue just barely swipes across your entrance your hands fly down to grasp his braids again. This time, however, the only thought on your mind is keeping him down there. His flat nose nudges at your clit with every swipe of his tongue along your pussy. 
“Oh my Eywa!” You screech as that knot is quickly being tied again in your stomach. 
Neteyam on the other hand becomes focused on another knot, tugging at the twine holding your top in place while still working on your pussy with zealous excitement. With your aid, the dangling top is released and falls to the side. His assault on your pussy pauses for him to trail upwards and lick along your quickly hardening peaks. 
“So pretty, Tanhi.” He murmurs against your right nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Meanwhile his fingers have taken the place of his tongue and expertly rub your clit. “My pretty little star.” 
Gleeful pride twinkles in his eyes as he looks up at you, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your chest. Your small hands grapple at any part of him you can reach, finding purchase on his flexed bicep that holds himself over you. 
The connecting lines of your thoughts are tangled into a ball of messy hunger and desperation. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined such strange things to be so exhilarating. A part of you wonders what else was not included in that sex talk. 
His head is found back between your legs again once your nipples are red and pointed proudly. Neteyam licks, nips and sucks at your pussy like a starved man. Every moan of pleasure releases vibrations that sky rockets through you. It becomes too much to handle. You’ve never felt more fragile in your entire life than when his eyes connect with yours, one eye winking at you, and you fall apart. 
Neteyam’s moan while licking up the white substance pouring from you goes completely unnoticed as the world around you spins and your ears ring. The gravity of this orgasm shakes you to the bones, floodgates of pleasure completely open in your brain. 
Although it feels as if Pandora has slipped out from beneath you, the recovery from this release is swift. Your skin prickles with goosebumps and your pussy hungrily clenches around open air once more. It seems that the monster of a heat inside you grows more insatiable with every second. So when Neteyam covers one finger in the remnants of your juices and starts to prod at your entrance, you’re relieved. 
“You’re doing so good, baby girl. This may feel strange at first, but let me know if it hurts too much.” It’s hard to focus on anything else besides the shiny slick that still coats his chin as he looks at you, but you manage a nod.
It does feel strange at first, your walls incredibly tight. Getting down to the first knuckle is easy but going towards the second proves to feel a little more strained. Regardless, you are happy to find that getting one finger inside is nothing near as painful as expected. Neteyam wiggles the digit and it makes you twitch. Such a strange sensation to be filled but, the longer he twists and curls his finger, the more you find yourself enjoying it. 
“How does that feel, yawne?”
“F-fine…a little strange.” 
Neteyam chuckles.
“I know. My girl’s pretty pussy is so tight.” It’s the pride and adoration in his voice that melts you from the inside out. The muscles of your cunt relax against him as he starts to slide another finger in. 
This stretch takes a little more time, effort, and praise from your alpha but otherwise it’s smooth sailing. He scissors and stretches your walls with due diligence, even as the dark pupils of his eyes overtake the gold color. By the third finger, you’re clawing at his braced forearm and begging for his cock. Neteyam doesn’t immediately give in, reminding you of the importance of being stretched out for him. Frustrated by his noble intentions, you aren’t beyond playing dirty. 
“Alpha please! Need your cock so bad, it hurts. Feel so empty.” The begging turns into sweet tones of whimpers. You can see the shift of his muscles as they tense. His pheromones take on a stronger hue, one that surrounds you like a cloud. Your small hand reaches down for him, fingers grasping in open air. Neteyam is quick to use the hand not half way up your pussy to hold your own, looking up at you. “You said you’d take care of me, alpha.” 
Perhaps in a situation not distorted by desperate lust and the sweet scent of your erotic perfume Neteyam would be tempted to put you over his knees for trying to manipulate him, but the clenching of your velvet walls around his fingers is enough to keep him focused on being balls deep inside of you instead. You can see the moment that his resolve crumbles to ashes, it’s accentuated by a deep growl and narrowed eyes. 
You watch with hungry eyes as Neteyam hastily claws at the strings of his loincloth. It’s a wonder that it doesn’t rip underneath his harsh fingers but it finally falls away and your pupils dilate at the sight. His length stands heavily against his stomach, curving slightly under its own weight. Saliva gathers in your mouth as you observe the freckled stars that glow under the dim light of the room and scatter over his shaft till reaching the tip. A bead of precum is settled there and for the first time, you understand the desire to put your mouth in such sinful places. 
Neteyam preens under your awed attention, his hindbrain purring in delight at seeing his little mate impressed with what he has to offer. His grin widens when he notices your hand hesitantly reaching towards it. You stop, however, before getting to touch. 
“It’s ok, Tanhi. You can touch.” The three fingers leave your entrance with a squelching sound. Neteyam confidently keeps eye contact while licking the digits clean with a soft purr, then that large hand is wrapping around your own and leading you towards his twitching member. 
Even with Neteyam’s guidance, you’re unable to wrap the entirety of his width in your grip, but he doesn’t appear to be bothered by it. In fact, a devious spark lights in his smile as he watches you struggle to hold it. Although, you will probably never admit it outside of heat, you too enjoy the dramatic size difference between the two of you. On more than one occasion you have let your arousal ruin your loincloth just from having his large body completely wrapped around your own, tucking you away so easily. 
A small gasp leaves your throat when his cock twitches in your hand. Neteyam can’t keep his cooing laughter in as he pets affectionately at your hair. He pauses to take a breath from the mask while still smirking. 
“You see what you do to me, baby girl?” 
The taste of iron erupts in your mouth and it is only then that you realize you’ve been crushing your bottom lips between sharp teeth. 
“Is it…uncomfortable?” It feels silly to be so bashful after having his lips along your pussy moments earlier, but you can’t help but keep your voice down to a whisper. You thank the Great Mother for the privacy that the scientists have allowed the two of you over the past few days. There would be no recovery for your dignity if they were to walk in on this scene. Heat or not, being whiny and oblivious is embarrassing. 
“Hm, sometimes my love. If relief is not given.” He guides your thumb to run over the head. “Mostly it gets my thoughts traveling to tempting places. Imagining all the different ways I can have you laid out for me.” The weight of your eyelids seem to increase with every word he speaks. His other hand running up and down your inner thigh only adds to the lust filled daze that has captured you. 
“Wondering what you would taste like.” Being the cheeky alpha that he is, Neteyam doesn’t let the opportunity pass by without reaching a few digits down to his soaked thigh and swirling the substance between his fingers. He simultaneously continues to help you jerk his thick member slowly while sticking the dripping fingers into his mouth profanely. 
“My imagination, however, doesn’t do it justice.” He hums with delight, his pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip to collect any escaping juices. “My thoughts are merely a facade in comparison to the real thing. They can’t do you justice.”
You subconsciously tighten your grip around him at the words, causing a low groan to rumble from his chest. Another trickle of slick coats your entrance. You’re in absolute awe at your body's ability to get close to cumming just from the dark noises and words that spill from your mate’s lips. Not to mention the twitching weight of his cock restrained in your hand. 
“Then stop imagining and come here.” You leap forward and capture his lips with your own. Neteyam’s hum of surprise morphs into a viscous growl as your tongues fight for dominance. The little gasps and groans that slip into the kiss as you pump his cock is electrifying. It’s borderline addicting to see that way the mighty Omatikaya Prince bucks his hips for you. A sense of power to know that you can get him melting like this. 
Never breaking the kiss, Neteyam shuffles your body forward and the two of you start to guide his cock towards your fluttering pussy. All forms of trepidation are gone. Your body screams from every pore that you can take it. You trust these instincts as the thick head of his member prods at your entrance. 
Your lips part against his mouth in a gasp when the head slips past your entrance. Slick walls stretch in ways that you couldn’t have imagined and it feels as if you are about to be split in half. Neteyam continues to kiss and nip at your lips gleefully while carefully continuing to guide himself in inch by inch. 
“You’re being such a good girl for me.” He coos as your eyes scrunch shut tightly. It feels as if the length will never stop, as if he is about to reach your chest from the inside, but Neteyam is patient. He takes his sweet time checking up on you with every inch and soaking his tone and words with constant praises. It does this trick, scratching at that primal desire to please your alpha. 
When his balls finally meet the curve of your ass, little whimpers rain from you consistently. 
“N-nete, so b-big.” You cry, forehead touching his own as you struggle to take in ragged breaths. He forces you to take a breath from the mask hanging from his neck. 
“I know, baby. So perfect and tight around me.” His own voice shakes slightly. “God damn!” The english phrase sounds like gibberish to your ears but you understand the sentiment nonetheless. 
Settled there to let you adjust, your head lolls to his shoulder.  When his cock twitches, you clamp your teeth down on his exposed shoulder to stabilize yourself. Neteyam encourages the oral fixation through  hissed words of praise. Tears spill from your eyes but it’s hard to say what the source of your crying is. The stretch is uncomfortable but you can’t deny the certain tinge of pleasure that courses through you when a slight shift reminds you of how full your pussy is. Eventually, your heat takes the edge off, rewarding your ability to secure a mate with a pulsing clit and dripping entrance. 
It takes a moment to realize that Neteyam is calling your name, you eventually snap out of it when his lips murmur it straight into your flicking ears. 
“Hand me your kuru, baby.” Your hands obey on their own accord. “Want you to understand how good you feel, Tanhi. How happy you make me.”
When those dancing tendrils wrap securely around one another, your eyes go from sleepy slits to dilated pupils of awe. It never becomes old being able to feel Neteyam so closely. To feel his breath and strength. To have his own emotions coalesce with yours. A vulnerable certainty of how he is feeling. In this state, neither of you can hide. There is no deceit. There are no polite formalities. You both have direct access to the other’s soul.
This time, a new current of sensation travels through the bond. It sparks into growing forms of ecstasy that makes you groan. It’s a strange thing to accept, but you can feel your own tights walls secured around him. Hugging him so tightly in the warmth of your cunt, velvety texture caressing him with every shift. Underneath that pleasure also grows an unyielding lust that pricks at his self control with every passing second. His hindbrain is screaming at him to move. To claim. To fill your womb with his seed until it drips out from you. 
It’s better than if the words had come from his own lips. It sets you into a feral need to complete these fantasies. 
“Can you feel me, baby girl?” His arms are securely wrapped around your middle to keep you tight against him. 
“Yes Nete, feel all of you. Need all of you. W-want you to move.” The ability to form coherent sentences starts to slip between your fingers. Neteyam, however, requires no further instruction. Your back hits the hammock once more as his strong grip clasps around the soft flesh of your hips. The mask is settled over your lips by the alpha before he continues. 
Slowly, but surely, he draws out with smooth and continuous thrusts. Your cunt clenches around him almost painfully, as if to keep him locked there. Once the tip is just barely past your entrance he starts to slide back in smoothly. The prolonged thrusts eventually angle in a way that hits a bundle of nerves inside you that has never been explored by you before. Neteyam moans in sync with you as he can feel your own pleasure every time the head of his cock rubs at the rosy spot. 
It spurs him forward. You don’t have to explicitly tell him to go faster because he can feel it straight through the bond. It allows you to focus the energy you have left on gripping his shoulders for dear life. A brutal rhythm begins to take place, your legs wrapped around his waist. 
“Oh Eywa!” You screech. The obscene noises of skin slapping fills the room along with Neteyam’s loosed growls and grunts. 
“That’s not my name, Tanhi.” The alpha teases, but you can feel the aching desire he has to hear his own name upon your lips. To have the auditory satisfaction of knowing he is pleasing his little mate.
“N-neteyam oh haa Nete!” 
His precision at hitting your g spot increases. Neteyam learns your body with an impressive speed. One hand comes up to palm and tease your breasts in his large hand. His eyes switching back and forth between watching his cock disappear inside of you and marveling at the nipple hardening between his pinched fingers. 
Everything starts to become a blur for you. The origins of sounds are unknown. Several times you are surprised to find that the high pitched screams are coming from your own throat. Your body shakes and trembles as if it is about to shatter into a million pieces. And that is what you come to truly believe as it overwhelms your senses. It is so consuming and new that you start to sputter little pleas of mercy to your mate, convinced that you truly will die from this overload of sensations. 
“It’s alright, Tanhi. You’re alright. Just let go for me. Let it all go.” 
Your hair tangles in the woven material of the hammock as you shake your head. Neteyam thrusts become ragged and less coordinated but he slips a hand down to fondle at your clit. You scream and arch, cumming harder than ever before. Neteyam is less than a second behind you, feeling the effects of your orgasm through the bond. Warm ropes of seeds paint your inner walls. 
The first normal sense that comes to you is the feeling of Neteyam’s heavy and warm body collapsed on top of yours. Heated breath tickles at your neck, intermittent with sweet kisses and nonsense murmurs. You let yourself bask in the afterglow. Your body is sore and motionless, but luckily Neteyam takes over. Only a tiny sound comes from you when he slips out.
“Come here, tanhi.” Your boneless body is pulled to lay on top of him. Soothing affection swims across the bond when you nuzzle your face against his chest. The swing of the hammock and rhythm of his heartbeat is quickly luring you to sleep. 
Neteyam grabs your hand and kisses it sweetly. You can vaguely make out the sound of his voice, but the words are like garbled noises which never compute in your brain. It’s hard to say whether or not it’s english or if you just can’t understand simple words now in your fucked out state. Still, you like the way it makes his chest rumble. 
“Neteyam.” The rumble stops, tail flickering as he waits patiently. 
“I see you.” Your words are barely more than a whisper in the stuffy room but they ring true. He gently places the breathing mask over your lips again before your eyes close. 
“You’re all I see, little star.” 
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Taglist @yurmomsawh0r @nilahsstuff @name-saken @luvv4j4ybe11 @stylishtoast @karateperson @henhouse-horrors @easy2004 @whisperingwillow0854 @whenercolorfulrainbowlol @neteyamtesuli
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avatarkv · 11 months
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EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (3)
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Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader.(wc: 5211)
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“You will make a good olo’eyktan.” 
Jake snorted, downing the last dregs of amber liquid from his worn wooden glass. He shook his head in amusement as he put it down on his lap– It must be the alcohol speaking, he thought to himself. Tsu’tey had been speaking vaguely; roughly in between asking where his loyalty lies and if he was willing to stay for the people. To say Jake was confused was an understandment, and he wasn’t a brick of a wall to not feel that something was wrong. 
“Don’t you mean would?” He asked, refilling his cup. “I would make a good olo’eyktan. A possibility.” 
Tsu'tey's merely shook his head as he finished his beverage, letting a few drops of liquid trickle down his chin. He didn’t bother to wipe it away, gaze far into the crowd of young warriors celebrating themselves. The festivity had gathered everyone and his eyes darted constantly to his lover– the one who rightfully had this heart.
And that was something Jake had noticed about Tsu’tey tonight, he realized. Tsu'tey was never truly looking at him. Although he had only spoken to him on this particular night, his eyes never once met Jake’s; it seemed as though he was constantly searching for something else– someone. 
Could it be Neytiri? His heart seized as the thought crossed his mind. He was selfish. Eywa knows just how impure his soul is; how cruel he is to love a promised woman. 
“What is that human word you use when you have not been truthful?” 
One of the things he became aware of as he continued to learn life in Pandora was that the Na’vi didn't recognize or understand the concept of lying; there wasn't even a word in their language for it. It was a revelation for him, that such an integral part of his motherland - dishonesty and deception - was nonexistent here. He feared he would be the one to taint their morals, to be the example to its definition. 
Jake was a liar. 
“You mean lie?” 
Tsu’tey nodded. “I fear I have done such a thing.” 
Jake furrowed his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes in thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to pry– not when his eyes seemed distant once more. He thought he looked at Neytiri, but standing beyond her was the figure his eyes desperately sought. Tsi’ewa looked like a vision in the firelight, her every gracefully swaying movement becoming alive in the mesmerizing glow of the large bonfire.
And she was just there– how could she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?
Jake puts an awkward hand to his shoulders, attempting to comfort him with a pat. “Eywa will forgive you– whatever you did.” 
But Tsu’tey only shook his head again. His steady hand made quick work of refilling his cup to the brim once more, as if he was trying to drown out the rising truth that was spiraling from his stomach. He paused for a moment before lifting it up to meet his lips, “No. She would have to ask for my forgiveness instead.”
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“We must tell the people now.” 
They continued to walk aimlessly, steps wide and quick. The night had seemingly stretched on for hours since the gathering had ended, and they were growing ever more irritable– both bodies awash with alcohol and both minds clouded with judgment. “Your thoughts are muddled, Tsu’tey. You’ve had a bit too much to drink.” She said in a dismissive tone, making it clear that she didn't want to discuss the topic further. Tsi’ewa was nothing but distant— tonight where Tsu’tey felt most painfully vulnerable. 
“I can think just fine, Tsi’ewa.” He carefully takes her arm, steering her to face him. “We have to tell the people now.” 
“And risk your place in the clan?” She quickly swats his hand away, her face twisted with a troubled expression. “I will not let you ruin your name.” 
They finally stand still, exhausted— bodies glistening in sweat. Tsi’ewa frantically looked around, perhaps for something to hurl or something to tightly squeeze'; anything to relieve the knot that churned deeply inside her stomach. Letting out another lengthy sigh, she finally looks at Tsu’tey. “I am but a songstress, Tsu’tey! Someone who people wouldn’t care enough to give two glances.” 
“And why do they matter?” He replied in the same tone, just as defeated as she was.
“Because I am nothing. I am unheard, I am not seen– but you. You are to become leader. The people need you, Tsu’tey.” She steps in closer, just enough to feel his warm breath fanning over her face. Her finger digs into his chest as she speaks, pressing harder with each word that spills from her mouth. “You have to choose.” 
“I do not have to. It is you who I want.” He answers, almost casually– like he had lost a screw or two to trade such a title for something so miniscule. Tsi'ewa releases a frustrated sigh, her posture wilting in defeat.
“You are being stubborn!” 
“And you think too low of yourself!”  
Silence envelopes their heaving bodies once more. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “I am unhappy with the union– it is against my will and most especially my heart. Do not make me choose the people.”
He finds promise in the crooks of her body, the warmth of her palms; a place of sanctity he wouldn’t mind kneeling to for hours. It was the kind of romance so tender, it would dissolve right on his tongue the moment he would consume it– he just knew he would love her for a very long time. Tsu’tey would let his title be damned if it meant having her for eternity. 
“We will be miserable.” She whispers. 
“Only if you push me away.” He answers. 
Who knew Tsu’tey was quite the romantic? Well– people would’ve known if they had given him the chance to truly love. The day he died, Tsi’ewa knew her heart was buried along with his. 
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The flickering firelight created a somber ambience as Jake sat motionless, lost in thought. The dancing shadows casted by its light created an indescribable feeling of unease– an overwhelming weight of dread settling on his shoulders. His mind raced endlessly, thoughts clamouring in his head to be brought to the forefront. 
The clan– the people. His family. Himself. Deafening, deafening sound.
Quartich was back and he had to think fast. Sure, they were far from where the old shack is, but it wouldn’t be long until they were eventually found. The thought strikes an indescribable fear, reeling him in and getting the best of him. 
To say Jake was tired was an understatement. 
Tired is a word used to describe how one feels after a busy day; one that promises a better tomorrow– a green light that lets you go ahead and continue once more. He fears this is more than just casual exhaustion, but something that threatens to bury him six feet under.
And then there was you; a particular voice desperate for a minute of his time. He hears your voice, even in mind. His stubborn eldest. You might as well be the reason for why his hair is turning white so early. He thought it was just a phase– he thought that every child would eventually grow out of their angsty-teenager stage. Heck, he went through one back on earth. Jake was once a little boy too, he’d know. 
But as time stretched on, he realized that your actions had rooted from actual hurt and not just some juncture in life. When you said you hated him, you actually did. When you said he was being a shit father, he actually was. He made you feel that way. 
Jake wonders when it happened– what had slipped through his fingers for everything to become so messy. He swears he hears you as much as you don’t think he isn’t listening. 
You’d make a great olo’eykte. He knows it. Somewhere along that line frightens him– makes him terribly uneasy. He doesn’t mean to tell you otherwise, but in his eyes, you will always be his little girl; the same kid who cried to him once because everyone had been too mean. Jake would burn the whole world if he had to; shed blood if it meant your safety. 
Being a clan leader meant exactly that. He knew you’d do everything to ensure everyone’s safety, even if it meant your life. Jake wasn’t ready for that– he wasn’t ready to hear that his little girl was capable enough to not need him. 
He wished he’d rather made that clear instead of severing your already strained bond. The gulf between you two has grown too wide for him to bridge the gap, and it's slowly eating away at him. 
There was just something so complicated between a father and a daughter’s relationship– a kind of complication that neither of you could tell what you really meant. He wishes he could understand you; take away the troubles that made you restless. Maybe then, your eyes wouldn’t feel so distant– maybe then, you wouldn’t look at him like he wasn’t your own dad. 
He numbly reaches for the machine gun– its surface still emanating heat from its earlier use. He can feel its weight in his grasp, a firm reminder of the violence that had just transpired. He clenches it in his hands, his sweaty palms pressing against its hard surface in an almost comforting way. 
“The children are fine and taken care of,” Neytiri gently announced as to not worry her already troubled mate. “Your mind is clouded, ma Jake, tell me about it. ” 
“Just thinking,” Neytiri sat in front of him, allowing the silence to linger for a moment longer while she awaited his response. “That maybe Tsu’tey had been hinting at his relationship with Tsi’ewa for much longer than we thought.” 
That wasn’t at all what her mate had expected him to say, thinking that he would likely talk about what had happened back at the old shack. The wrinkle between her eyes deepened as she questioned aloud, "Why is this being brought up now?" 
Jake released a lengthy exhale as he released the empty shell from his gun, letting it amble towards the fire pit. “Maybe I could have done something to save him from dying a warrior’s death so soon.” 
Neytiri straightened her leaning posture, clicking her tongue. “This isn’t about Tsu’tey, is it?” The way Jake's reaction was almost too subtle to notice only solidified her suspicions. His posture seemed to slightly change, his shoulders stiffening ever-so-slightly as if he was attempting to contain the emotions running just beneath the surface. “It’s about y/n.”
“Always about that daughter of ours.” He attempted to make light of the situation, stifling a chuckle. This demeanor was a thin veil for the obvious elephant in the room and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to make it known just yet.  “Hard headed and snobby, just like Tsu’tey.” 
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she got it from you instead?” Neytiri narrowed her eyes at him, mouth twisted in a slight scowl. When Jake only released a snort in reply, his gaze still fixated on the machine gun, she lightly swatted him on the nape of his neck with a hiss. “You are too hard on her– on everyone! Don’t you think that you’re being too harsh on them?” 
Jake winces before replying, voice firm and just as loud. “I am only doing what I can to protect everyone.” He flails his arms around, trying to emphasize his words. “Everything that I do is for them. You think I enjoy being like this? Being the mean parent?”
“Then stop!” 
Jake let his long fingers run through his hair, slightly tugging at the braids in exasperation. His eyes closed for a fleeting moment as he drew in a sharp breath, attempting to compose himself. “It’s not that easy, Neytiri. They had their knives right under our children’s necks– I’m only trying to keep this family alive and together.” 
“By pushing everyone away? By telling your eldest that she isn’t enough? Listen to what you’re saying, Jake! You aren’t hearing yourself!” Neytiri presses a finger into his chest. “This isn’t about war– it wasn’t always about fighting. It’s about you and the children.” 
Everyone falls silent, letting the weight of their words settle in the air. The only sound is that of the distant fire crackling, filling in the otherwise unbearable quiet. They took in each other’s heaving figures, eyes softening in mutual understanding. 
“You’re scared you’re going to fail her like you think you did with Tsu’tey.” Neytiri whispers softly this time. Jake’s ears flatten in response– stiff shoulders slumping in defeat. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Neytiri.” 
“Oh please– you are never this rough with Kiri and Tuk. Y/n is your daughter too, so why does she have to be on the receiving end of such hard affection?” She lets out an agitated scoff,   “You do not hear her, ma Jake. When she shouts, she does not call for Toruk Makto– ma’ite does not challenge the olo’eyktan. She yearns for just you, her father.”
And that was Neytiri for you; ever the wiser one. She always knew what to say. Jake looks at him with such tenderness– an admiration that was strikingly reminiscent of the first time he ever saw her. 
“You fathers always do not know what to feel– what to say. So you tend to be less understanding, because in that way, less words are spoken. Silence is better than talking it out, yes? Ma’sempul was the same. Only when he died did I realize– but will you take it to your grave before you let her know that she is loved?” 
A daughter is only a daughter once, not until you make her forget. 
“Make her understand. Your intentions are fair, but your ways are ill— they are ill, Jake.” Neytiri's words stung like a slap in the face, she might as well strike him straight to the chest. It rendered him speechless, yet he knew something shifted— and for the better. “She is your daughter. Not Tsu’tey’s.”
His daughter. 
“Am I a bad father, Neytiri?” His voice had cracked and she swore she could hear the faint breaking of his already fragile heart. The realization slowly seeped into the wrinkles of his weary face, accentuating the creases from fatherhood itself. He failed everyone and he knew it. He always thought his actions were justified– but it was the consequences that struck him the most: He didn’t know Neteyam’s favorite color, but he knew how odd he held his bow. 
He didn’t know his children.
“No, just misguided.” Slowly, Neytiri cautiously wraps her arms around his rigid form. She can feel the warmth of his skin against her face as she nestles her head into the crook of his neck. She swears he could hear the rapid beat of his heart and it pounds in sync with hers– they were both lost and terribly exhausted. “I know earth did not allow you to be soft, but you’re not alone anymore. Put your burdens at ease, ma Jake.” 
Jake returns her embrace, squeezing her body softly. He allows himself to bask in the moment of stillness, taking in the sweet smell of her hair and skin. With a shaky exhale, he attempts to savor the fleeting peace before it's gone. When did everything become so difficult?
After a while, Neytiri finally stands, feeling the exhaustion of all she has endured today seeping into every fibre of her body. “The children are staying over at Mo’at’s for tonight.” 
She stands there, lingering for a moment before finally turning to leave. “Just talk to her, Jake.” 
And there he was, alone with nothing but the warm glow of the flickering fire to accompany him once again. 
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Fruits. You love fruits, he thinks. 
Perhaps you didn’t get the memo that everyone was staying over at your grandma’s for the night; perhaps you were waiting for him to come home too. He carefully sliced the yovo fruits, placing them a bit too delicately on the bark bowl. 
Jake was undeniably nervous. His own teenage daughter made him nervous.
As he slowly trudged towards the hut, his toe lurched into one of the wicker chairs– a loud string of curses exploded from his lips as he clamped his eyes shut in frustration. Through gritted teeth, he peered down to the seat. immediately noticing its snapped leg which seemed to mock him for his carelessness. He exhaled deeply. crouching down to take a closer look.
Funny enough, it was yours– your name glaring right back at him.
If there was something that he learned best back on earth, it was to be handy— good with his hands. (well, considering the lack of legs, he had to make use of thereof.) He thought he had cracked the code back then; giving everyone gifts and crafting whatever they pleased. Jake failed to realize that it was not more toys the children wanted– it was him. Just him.
"Listen, I'm sorry," Jake visibly winces at his poor attempt at an apology. He takes a pause, deciding on the right words to say before continuing, “Let’s talk about it, kid– promise not to raise my voice." He waits for her response but only silence greets him in return. He releases a deep sigh and mumbles under his breath, “-- or maybe not. This is fine." He carefully slides in the bowl of freshly cut fruits under the flap of the hut after taking a few moments to rest against its wooden walls. He looks around, his eyes wandering everywhere, “You listening?” He waits again, “Your father– he was a good man. A very good man, in fact."
“Neytiri was promised to him and he was to become the olo’eyktan. I was only an outsider; barged in and made a mess of an already good clan.” he reminisced, “He had every right to view me as a threat– heck, he could’ve even greeted my approach with a spear right to the chest the moment I arrived. He didn’t. No one did.” 
“I’m thankful for that. Everything I have now is because of him.” He looks back at the entrance, hoping for even a flicker of light being lit by you– he thought maybe you were also leaning against the wall that separates you both. “I was wrong. Your father was far more than enough, and of all people, I should have known that better– should have known better than to talk shit about him to his very daughter.” 
He exhales a deep, heavy sigh for what feels like the hundredth time, his frustration evident as he rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “Look, what I’m trying to say is. I miss you, sweetheart. I’m growing old– and while you aren’t getting any younger either, I want you to understand that when I shout, it means I want you to listen. When I push you to your limits, I only want you to do your best.” 
He looked back at all the times where you and him argued– when he thought what he was doing was right. Jake wondered if he pushed you away everytime he raised his voice. He probably did.  
“Well– raising my voice probably never worked because you always shouted back.” he says, shaking his head with a snort of laughter. No matter how loud either of them got, the other always managed to raise their voice even higher. “Time is fucking with me– you all are growing so fast. One second I’m snuggling with everyone in the same hammock and then all of a sudden I find myself making everyone a separate one because we’re all too big now.” 
He grows quiet, a lump welling up in his throat that renders him speechless. “I’m not olo’eyktan– I’m no Toruk Makto. I’m just a father, baby. And I think that’s the most vulnerable I’ll ever be.” 
“Never wanted any of you to fight. Never wanted to put everyone on the line for war–” Another breathy exhale, “I was scared. Fine, there it is, out in the open. My star failed me, sweet girl. I know how humans worked back there and they worked ruthlessly. We killed our own land– our own mothers.” 
His stomach would lurch at the thought of it, an overwhelming pang of nausea stirring within him. Jake could barely survive back there– he truly was lucky to be chosen by Eywa. He could already be dead if not the past occurrences for all he knows. 
“I wasn’t allowed to be gentle back then and I’m glad eywa is a lot more merciful here.” He looks up, staring at the starry sky. Earth had taken too much from him and ironically, it was also humans who kept ruining him here in Pandora too. Jake was always one step behind no matter how hard he tried. “But you got to give me a bit of recognition here, baby girl, I'm trying. I didn’t automatically become a father after having children. I think I’m forever learning. I still have a lot to go.” 
“I did what I thought was right; I had to ensure that my family was safe, no matter the cost, and I didn’t even realize I put a damn war over everyone’s head. Sweetheart, I never wanted any of you to fight– I never wanted to put everyone on the line to battle. I would never wish for anyone to experience what I went through back on earth and funny enough, I brought it right to our doorstep.” And he felt his voice break as words tumbled out of his mouth in an incoherent pace, desperately trying to release all these emotions that had been clogging up his throat. He brought a hand roughly to his face in an effort to hold himself together, fingernails digging lightly into the delicate skin around his eyes. “I’m scared, babygirl.”
“Eywa was kind enough to give me children in the image of people I’ve already lost; Tsu’tey, Grace– hell, I even see Tommy on Lo’ak. That knucklehead is just too curious for his own good.” He didn’t know if it was a curse rather than a gift; every corner of his house was haunted and grief had made a home right on his very lungs. 
He looks back at the flap of the hut and still no sign of you– even the bowl of fruits was left untouched. “Tough crowd.” He murmurs to himself before finally deciding to stand, his legs stiff from sitting still for too long. He awkwardly pats his thighs, shaking away the dust he collected. “Everyone is staying over at Mo’at’s. You can have the hut to yourself for the night.”
Space. Maybe you needed space.  (And he was terribly wrong. Space was all that remained between you two.)
Jake starts to slowly walk away, yet somehow he feels like his troubles remain firmly on his shoulders. The guilt was there— all of it. He looks back one last time, praying. Eywa, give me one last chance. Let my daughter come running to me in an embrace and I’ll swallow my pride. 
Nothing.
He felt his heart slowly breaking, the pieces of it slipping lower and lower down his stomach with every passing second. His mind was a mess; he could feel all his doubts and insecurities swirling about inside his body, each one vying for center stage. I am no better than my own father. I am no better than my own father. I am no better than my own father.
Unbeknownst to him, you were never in the hut to begin with. It was sick– such a cruel joke for the words you’ve been desperate to hear to be left unheard. 
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“Give me strength, dear mother. Tell me what I’m doing is just.” 
You were kneeling on the damp, mossy ground close to the roots of the tree of souls, your hands tightly gripping onto your queue. The thick foliage that surrounded you was awash with the lavender hue that emitted from the vine-like leaves, lending you warmth from the chill eclipse. Woodsprites floated nearby, swaying close as if to welcome your presence. 
Inching closer, you stretch out your arm before allowing the tendrils of your braid to coil around the hanging threads. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself feel– taking in the presence of Eywa. 
Your mind was clouded. Once a dark space turned into something light– too light, it was almost blinding. Everything was blurry, almost like a dream, but you knew it wasn’t; knew well where you stood and why you were here to begin with. 
Slowly, a vision emerges - a woman standing just a few paces from you. She feels something in the air and her ears perk up, as if she is trying to figure out the space she’s in too. Her head turns from each corner, cautiously checking the blurry surroundings. After a few moments of searching for something visible to the eye, she turns and finally spots you. A sudden shock passes through her body, evident by the way her eyes widen in surprise. She stands there for what seems like eternity, you can almost see the gears starting to move and click within her mind.
“Oh, my sweet child–” 
She reaches out to envelop you in an embrace, but you take a step back in response. Her arms remain open– still hopeful that you’d run to her like how a child would to her mom, but you were just there, staring incredulously. 
“I don’t know who you are.” 
This couldn’t be Eywa. You would’ve known. 
You two stood still, eyes drawing over each other’s lines and curves, trying to etch it in memory– then it dawned to you– could this be your mother? 
“I knew Tsu’tey had the stronger genes, I just didn’t expect him to take up most of the space in your face.” She lets out a breathy chuckle, “Come close, child, let me see you.” 
And you shouldn’t.  You haven’t seen this woman all your life nor did the people provide enough stories about her. She was nothing but the person who had birthed and given you life– that should’ve been enough for you to run straight towards her, but you stood there, gulping down a familiar grief. 
It’s weird for mothers and daughters to just coexist like she had not brought you upon the world at all. Sure, you have her eyes and you might grow to have her exact physique, but the word ma’ite sounded distant on her tongue– cold and unloving. Her arms weren’t inviting. 
This wasn’t your mother. Mothers are kind and warm, like Neytiri.
Your legs moved forward in a hesitant pace, as if you were being pushed against your will. You stood closer, enough to let her cup your face. She lets out a choked sob– or was it laughter? You couldn’t follow. She lets her thumb mindlessly brush against your soft cheeks, eyes filled with so much love, you feared it would be too heavy. That love was reserved for you and only you– for all the ages you’d grow to be.
But all energy is borrowed. She has been carrying this longing tenderness for years in the afterlife. 
You had Tsu’tey’s eyes, his lips. She’d argue that the nose is debatable, but surely if you rip open your heart, you’d find your mother’s own. Sweet, sweet child, forced to grow up too quickly. Tsi’ewa was sure you’d be the kindest soul. 
You ponder deeply– what kind of life would your mother have had if you had never been born at all? Would she still be here, with all her vitality and vigor, relishing in the gift of her youthful years? Would she perform to the children, singing them lullabies they drift off into a peaceful sleep? The thought causes you profound anguish– your mother was just like you; full of life and once was a little girl too.
You wish you knew her enough to let the grief prolong.
“Time has been unkind to you,” She said softly, her fingers tenderly sweeping the loose strands of hair away from your face.
“You are not my mother.” 
“I know.” She replies. Tsi’ewa doesn’t take it to heart how harsh your responses have been– you were just her little girl, lost and terribly misguided. “For all we know, I’ve only been one to you right now, so just this once– let my words bear meaning.” 
You chose to wait; giving her the opportunity to slowly get acquainted with you, taking in every little detail of your face - from the stars of moles to the creases around your eyes. You were patient with her, allowing her to digest all that made you who you are – beyond just looks. She was just a mourning mother that grieved her little girl. 
“You do not have to stay.” She whispers and her words hit a little too close to home, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut and suppress a sob. “A boy would be Olo’eykte of the Omatikaya– but you, ma’ite, shall be mine.”
As the words slipped her mouth, you had finally granted her an embrace. You swear you had felt yourself turn smaller. Your head rests against her stomach, letting your ear listen for whatever you might hear. This is where you came from, you thought. Who knew a mother could bear a stranger? She clings to you with a desperate grip, preventing you from falling apart— as if it's her own way of trying to hold you together. 
Just a bit more, Eywa. She begged. Give me a minute more to hold my girl.
I wish you’d give birth to me again, you cried, maybe then I’ll turn into something better. 
You open your eyes, feeling beads of tears roll down your face. You mindlessly wipe them away, not truly grasping what had transpired or how the weight on your shoulders lightened. Woodsprites quickly flutter away once you regain consciousness. Your head shoots up, and a silent thank you escapes your lips as you bask in the warm glow of the light that touches your face.
Forgive me Eywa for leaving. Your ikran lets out a sharp shriek as you climb onto her back, taking steady steps up her body while gently caressing her back. The animal quiets down at your touch, eager to fly once more. 
A heart is meant to be cupped by unscathed hands and if you cannot find palms big enough for yours, then you fear home is somewhere else.
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finally posted a new chapter, how is everyone doing ! i honestly don't know what to feel about this part just yet, but i had to write through a writer's block so it might be ass. had to fight it or else i'd be stuck in a rut on god
very important ! i've decided not to take any more tags ;( i'm really sorry, but they take up most of my time and it bugs my posts because it only lets me tag to an extent? so if your name isn't mentioned, do know that i had to take out a few (or because your user didn't pop up when i tried) please turn on your notifications instead ;(
already proofread but please don't be hesitant to point out mistakes, i tend to be blind when it comes to editing teehee i listened to jacob and the stone by emile mosseri while writing this so you might want to do so too to set the mood !
love everyone so bad, thank you for being patient w me. smooch !
tags: @reyalvr @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @lunyyx @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch @pinkeroppi @mellowdiy @jimfiqs @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ayra2452008 @vodoo-heart @rose-brulante @starxao @bluevenus19 @entertain-my-lvst @wwwellacom
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dilfs-bitch · 1 year
Text
Ralnga' | Neteyam (NSFW)
Pairing: Neteyam Te Suli x Fem Omatikaya reader
Word count : 5k
Summary: You do everything in your power to get out of an arranged marriage, but it ends up arousing the fury of the Omatikaya prince.
Warnings: Characters inexperienced, p in v sex, degradation kink, angst, arranged marriage, dom Neteyam (slightly) rough sex, hair pulling, biting, some mentions of blood, use of the word bitch in a derogatory sense, choking, aged up Neteyam ( 22) dirty talk, nsfw.
Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. English is not my first language.
Image its not mine, credits to the ower.
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The golden child of the Sully family.
The prince of the Omatikaya clan who left unmated females breathless every time he strutted through the village with the swagger of a future chief.
The passionate gazes and sighs of many who once dreamed of being his future Tsahik, yet that fate has been forced upon you since you were a child.
Everyone in the clan knew who his future mate would be, and yet many didn't seem to care especially since he reached adulthood, his slender body now had so much muscle, his voice was much deeper and more authoritative, his once youthful face now had features of a man, who was wanted wherever he went except for you.
That wanted since the day your parents decided that arranged marriage would be good for the clan, that before the ceremony, Neteyam would fall in love with someone who would make him give up that engagement.
But a warrior as noble as he would never do that.
That's how that ugly feeling grows inside you towards him, it was no longer enough to be forced into an arranged engagement, your hopes of getting rid of it slowly died every day because he never seemed to be interested in anyone, because he was always focused on perfectly executing every task he was given, focused on being so kind and affectionate whenever he was with you.
Just the thought made you snort impatiently rolling your eyes, such a human gesture learned from Kiri having your whole life been so close to the Sully's, adoring each one of them like your own family, except the eldest son.
Maybe that was even why the elders thought that arranged marriage would be profitable, but did that have to be him? Even Lo'ak being your future mate seemed like a better idea, it sure was, the boy was much more fun, cheeky, cocky when he needed to be, butted heads with anyone just like his father, but Neteyam? He was so dull, always serious and moody, taking anyone's orders without hesitation, always so kind and what fun was that?
Certainly none for you who never wanted a mate and much less a man like him.
Sometimes you even wondered if you were the problem considering how many Na'vi wanted to mate with him. Maybe Neteyam even had its attractions, but that anger you've felt since learning you'd be mated to him clouded your judgment of him.
“ Yawne ? ” Are you listening to me? “. He says, his big hand squeezing your shoulder gently.
“ I was lost in my thoughts, what did you say? “
Neteyam's brows furrow, and his ears flatten, his gaze lingering on your face which has a visibly annoyed scowl and he swallows hard at the thought that this was his fault, although now a gentle smile adorns his face when he pushes those thoughts away by convincing himself that the day has just been tiring so far.
His heart flutters in his chest at the familiar warmth of your hand now against his, so small in comparison to his own. “ Meet me today, at our spot after the eclipse Yawne ”
Our spot was a small waterfall he found a few years ago, deep in the forest, the place is breathtakingly beautiful, one of the most beautiful places you'd ever seen in the vast forest that surrounded you since was a child, but spending time with Neteyam there it was almost torturous and yet you smile nodding satisfied the man in front of you who smiles proudly leaving a soft kiss on the top of your forehead before walking away from the area where you collected herbs to Tsahik.
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His breathing is heavy with each agilely step he takes, his braids swaying back and forth clouding his vision for mere seconds each time his heels hit the sandy ground beneath his feet.
His fist is clenched so tightly that his knuckles are almost white with anger, which bubbles up in his chest at once again being left waiting.
Because he waited during the entire eclipse until the rays of sunlight began to illuminate the running water that flowed down from the great mossy rocks of that waterfall that day he found deep in the forest.
Neteyam still remembered exactly how he found that place
Sweat trickled from his hairline in Pandora's heat, his mouth was dry and his body begged to go back to the village.
The soft moss that grew on the ground gave some kind of comfort to the soles of his feet that ached for he had been going deeper into the forest for so long clinging to some thread of hope that that day he would finally find a special place so that he could take his mate there.
Just the thought of her made a genuine smile appear on his face and his heart pounding in his chest that suddenly seemed to beat at a much stronger frequency when he saw the waterfall in front of him, it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen, on the rocks grew species of plants he had never seen, such an intense blue was the perfect contrast with the green of the plants that surrounded the lake of warm water that was drunk by several hexapedes, it was as beautiful as Y/n and he was sure she would love that place.
After so many days, it was worth get in deeper into the jungle just to find the perfect spot for her.
The thought made his stomach churn, his anger now redirected towards himself.
How could he have been so foolish all these years? Always pushing himself harder than he should, always hunting the biggest Sturmbeest and cooking for you the best meal, weaving the prettiest jewelry and clothes and all that to be thanked with a not-so-convincing smile and yet, he pushed those feeling away of ingratitude that sank his chest settling for whatever you gave him.
There were so many nights where he waited in that place only for you to apologize the next day saying you were too busy at Tsahik's tent, and each time he forgave you with a smile on his face, but the lack of apologies this time in the next morning left him fed up with everything.
The words were stuck in his throat, stealing his breath, begging to be said when he stepped in the entry of your tent.
His ears twitch at the sound of your familiar laugh, on other days it would warm his heart, but now the sound of your laughter curls inside him conjured daggers so sharp that left his heart bleeding, sunk in the sadness of your coldness of not even caring if he was still alive, the rage now succumbs to his body dilating his nostrils leaving behind any trace of that kind and attentive Neteyam that now disregards any kind of education entering your hut abruptly without bothering to greet Ya'nut and Tun'ti who quickly feel the tension in the air leaving you two alone the.
“ I'm so- ”
" Be quiet " He snaps before you can finish your sentence, close the flap of your tent and turning to glare at you, his lips a thin line. “ I'm tired of you looking down on me even when I've tried all these years to make myself a good potential mate, but that stops today”.
Your hands stop arranging the herbs and medicines along the shelf that Neteyam himself had made, the words have barely left his lips, and your heart is racing, beating desperately in happiness against the chest, the corner of your lips has a smile from the sudden relief that takes over your body it's like Eywa has finally heard your prayers all those years getting you out of that arranged marriage.
The feeling of freedom flowing through your body is so addictive that suddenly confidence rises in your body, quickly abandoning your good girl act that you so graciously pretended to be in front of the entire clan, who was happy with an arranged marriage that barely couldn't wait to mate with the future Olo'eyktan before Ewya.
“ Come, we should tell our parents that you give up then ”
You pass by him trying to hide the smile on your face, but before your hand can reach the knots that close the flap of your tent, your eyes widen and your body is pulled back, an almost desperate scream comes out of your now parted lips with the strong tug on your braids hair.
The sound perked up Neteyam's ears as he smiled, not the gentle smile he always had on his lips it's a sneer, a different kind of smile just like his own features that although he couldn't see it, he swore it was dark, because the cry of pain that leaves your lips ignites a flame in his heart that clouds his own thoughts as he drags you deeper into the hut by your braids, nearly undone by how tightly he's gripping a handful of hair.
His eyes light up and his ears twitch at the sound of your whimpering voice as he stops, forcing your body to kneel on the mat and Neteyam squats down, his muscular body towering over your that seems so small, the sight makes his heart felt like it was crumbling, being crushed under the happiness of finally feeling in control of the situation because now you were the one feeling inferior under his sneering gaze that had his brows furrowed and teeth clenched.
" Give up? No, today I'm going to teach you a lesson Yawne "
You sigh at the sound of his voice, as you take a deep breath through a wave of nausea, swallowing the saliva that pools in your mouth at how suddenly the endearing name now sounds strange on his tongue, it was more like a threat and your body shivers with instant regret for keeping him waiting all night.
An irritated snarl escapes his lips as you try to stand up only to suddenly have your back bumping against the treadmill mat, and your eyes widen at the grip on your throat of his hand making it difficult to breathe, his body muscled now hovering over yours who is cowering from the intense sensation that makes your head spin, the words are stuck in your throat though your mouth opens nothing comes out it's only Neteyam's chuckles in a low, gravelly echo as he loosens his grip on your throat that coughs as you breathe in the air so eagerly.
" St-stop it ". You swallow your saliva, fighting your words, crawling away from him.
But your body quickly goes still, it's a single tear that rolls from your amber eye at the sting that leaves the skin on the back of your thighs itching, your pointy ears ringing from the pain that shoots up your spine with a shivering itch every hair on the back of your neck and you choke on your own spit at the realization that he's given you a few smacks on your thigh.
Your thoughts is clouding as yout body shivers as you feels his hand quickly circling your thin tail, it's an intense sensation of heat flowing through your lower belly as Neteyam lifts the fist that he's curling with your tail lifting your hips up and the scream that was trapped in your throat comes out more like an inaudible moan at the strange but pleasurable sensation that flows through the base of your spine when he growls, his nostrils flaring breathing in your natural scent that suddenly flows throughout the tent, it's so intense that his own pupils dilate leaving only a thin layer of amber in his almost completely black eyes, his heart pounding in his chest as his muscular body curves over your.
" Oh, yes " He hums rubbing his face against the sweat-wet skin of your arched back. “ This whole time and you only feel this way when I'm being rude? ”
You shake your head deny more to yourself than to him, trying to convince yourself that your body's reaction was just the instinct of Na'vi females sensing his potential as a mate, submitting to the urge to breed, nullifying all contempt that you've felt for him your whole life.
However, your breathing is breathless feeling his body pressed so close to yours in that position that felt so intimate, like the intense desire that puts you in a trance to mate with him, it's overwhelming in how suddenly the scent of wet forest that radiates from his body leaves little noises coming out of your parted lips, begging for something you don't know what it is, and the thought of it makes your body tense, trying to slowly pull away from Neteyam's body heat only for him to pull your body back by your tail, your heart pounding in your ears with the shivers of your body totally stunned by the way he keeps his grip.
" Let me go, it hurts " You hiss.
" You're sure? ” He chuckles huskily pulling the base of your tail arching your back even more. " This your bitch in heat scent of yours tells me otherwise "
He sneers, repeating the english words he once heard his father say, but he gasps slightly when he feels you forcing your ass against his groin and he lets out a guttural growl, sliding his hand to your hips to squeeze them hard moving his hips against yours who sighs looking over your shoulder watching his sweaty skin, flushed cheeks, ears down and his facial expression, dark, lustful, that makes your sex clench around nothing begging to be filled by Neteyam that slides his tongue against the skin of your back bucking his hips into yours harder.
And you bite your bottom lip to try to contain the moan stuck in your throat, afraid to admit your own thoughts aloud regarding your future mate who seems so different from the other times turning you on with his overpowering pheromones almost putting you in heat , because now your nipples are hard rubbing against the colorful feathers of your top and it pisses you off, the idea that he's the one making you feel like this makes your stomach churn, not understanding why until a few minutes ago you were beaming with happiness that thought he was going to back out of that engagement, but now the mere thought of it makes the jealousy cloud your vision at the thought of him claiming another woman as his other than you.
“ Teyam please ”
It's with that thought that you give in to your animalistic urges, to want to be claimed by him, to cover your body in his scent and you do this by rubbing your clothed pussy against the growing bulge under the thin wet cloth of his loincloth for his own pre cum, but Neteyam just growls, his hand that was on your waist comes down hard on your ass making that side of your hip tingle and the corners of your eyes water, and he repeats this movement again and again until the blue skin turn an almost purple color, until tears rolls over your face contorted with pain, pleasure and frustration for not understanding why he continues to be so rude, but that's the point.
Neteyam is so bothered to the point of continuous grunt because can't understand why all those years he could only get the pet name to come out of your lips now, when he was being rude, mistreating you, but it leaves him… -so horny that his throbbing cock is begging to be released now from the uncomfortable tightening of his own loincloth.
“ Say that again ” He sighs finally loosening the grip on your tail which is now swinging from side to side.
You say through groans, rubbing yourself against the hardness under his loincloth. “ Please Teyam, please mate with me.”
He closes his eyes, his breathing now heavy still trying to assimilate the fact that his future mate not only repeated the words he order but also said those words that he dreamed so much of hearing from your lips, damn it he dreamed awake so many nights while he waited in that spot.
Neteyam could even imagine it perfectly, the noise of the waterfall and the nocturnal animals of Pandora while you were dressed in that top he had woven for you that only covered your nipple, he could even perfectly imagine the sight of you looking at him through your eyelashes smiling shyly asking him to mate with you, maybe that was even why he got so angry because the last night he planned everything, the place, the fruits and flowers that you loved so much because he felt ready, ready to finally move on that phase of just gentle kisses on your lips, he wanted to mate, wanted to know what it would feel like to be buried so deep inside a woman, inside you.
But now everything looks much better.
" Yes " He growls, shoving his hand between your legs covered, slick with your arousal. “ I'll mate with you here and now, would you like that? ”
“Yes, Teyam, mark me as yours”. You moan, tugging at the band of your loincloth.
Impatient, he groans giving in to his primal desires, tearing the fragile fabric that covers your breasts, the beads that adorned it fall spreading across the mat, your ears twitch feel his warm, large and callused hand on your soft skin, when he starts fondle your right breast. His length twitch uncontrollably with the desire he's always felt to touch them finally come true, it's soft, warm and wet from the sweat trickling down your hairline down your neck disappearing between the valley of your breasts, your cheek now resting against mat, trying to control the sighs that come out of your lips from the pleasure that flows through your belly as you feel him rolling your hard nipples between his fingers, you moan softly pushing your ass into his groin .
Your core pulsing, your neglected clit is aching begging for something more as he tries to pull away, but your tail coil his muscled thighs that makes him cocky, assuming you really are lusting after him to the point your body doesn't want to stay away from his heat even for mere seconds.
" I want more ". You purr, your cunt clenching in anticipation.
He moans in wonder at the purr that vibrates from your chest, his animalistic thrusts clouding any sober thoughts of him as he rips off your loincloth, throwing the tattered cloth to the side, his hands now squeeze your hips as Neteyam rubs his now covered cock hard on your bare cunt making you gasp, whimpering in desperation to feel him inside because just the friction on your clit doesn't seem enough, not enough to control your arousal it seems leave his head spinning, as the room moves swiftly around him, he feels intoxicated by the scent of your, by the moans that come out of your parted lips, you want him as much as he wants you it's with that thought he digs his nail into your hips when he undoes the knot of his loincloth in the base of his tail.
He jolt at the raw friction on his sensitive cock as it springs up slapping against your ass, his stomach churns at the heat flowing through his belly at the sight of his pre-cum leaking the bulbous tip that's the perfect contract with your skin almost purple blue from the smacks.
It's at that moment Neteyam forgets why he was there in the first place, to teach you a lesson, make you respect him, desire him as your future mate, but now he's lost in his own pleasure, watching with his mouth open as the you crawl forward just enough for his cock to now sit between the heat of your thighs, rubbing against your clit as you bucks into his hips back and forth.
He is in pure ecstasy, tilting his head back slightly concentrating on the pleasure that although not what he so badly desires is still better at his own hands, his ears are flat against his head in embarrassment at the memory of all the times he has toched himself in the solitude of his tent after a hard day, relieving his frustrations stroking his cock thinking about what it would be like if it were your small, soft hands doing it, but now he swears this is so much better.
“ Is it good Teyam? “ You ask between moans bringing him back to reality.
He growls between moans and breath breathless" Could be better "
Your heart feels like it's caving in, being crushed under the pressure of the weight of his single word, 'could be better', and he looks at you with furrowed brows, big eyes shining, chuckles in reaction at the mean words that came out of his lips. Neteyam now curves his body over yours once more, rubbing his face against your shoulder before biting hard, making you cry out in pain beneath him stopping your movements because it feels so good your sex tightens around nothing, the moisture trickling down your thigh mixing with his precum making your thighs sticky.
His fangs finally leave your bloodstained skin, his hand finds the base of your tail, gripping it tightly, lifting your hips again, the wetness of your arousal now against the hot skin of his groin, his fingers prods at your slick entrance.
“Clenching so tightly around nothing, did I make you feel like this? “ He asks, a smirk playing on his lips before quickly sliding two fingers into it.
Groaning at your wetness the feel of his fingers inside you that had your brows furrowed trying to crawl, running away from the discomfort, pain his fingers bring and his smirk drops quickly, his heart racing in his chest at the thought that you still haven't had mated to no one, perhaps waiting for the day of the ceremony where you two would become one before Ewya.
“ Who would have thought that you would be waiting to mate only with me ”.
He teases, looking at you with piercing eyes, ramming two fingers even deeper into your slippery cunt which clenches with the pleasurable sensation that replaces the pain before, mixed with the tone he uses to make your back arch even more when you feel him curling his fingers, stroking the inside in a torturously slow rhythm that has all four of your toes curling as a moan escapes your lips, your eyes rolling back in the pleasure that races down your spine as he growls pulling your tail.
“Oh, I-I… it's so good, b-you… fuck, aren't you too? “ You babble, feeling your eyes fill with tears at how good his fingers are.
A high confidence fills him as he hears you say those words, his mind clouding with your loud, desperate moans each time he continues a few more times he pulls them out of you cunt taking his fingers to his mouth, savoring the last of your taste in his tongue. Lifting your hips enough by the grip on your tail lines himself up with your slick entrance so that the tip of his cock against your entrance, instantly thrusting almost his full length into you when that dig your nails into the mat trying to get used to the sensation to finally be filled.
“ You don't think it's that important, do you? ”
For a minute you feel something new blossom in your heart, something that Neteyam has never made you feel before, something like jealousy that makes a snarl leave your lips at the thought that he had become intimate with a woman other than you, the possessiveness has you gripping his forearm scratching his sweaty skin so hard he hisses in pain and pleasure as he starts to thrust into you, setting a lazy rhythm to his thrusts, pushing his pelvis against your ass burying himself deep inside you as possible, before halfway out and filling you up again with his cock.
Just as he remembered listening at that conversation from years ago hidden behind a tree, listening to the things his father and the most skilled warriors talked about when they were drunk, Neteyam committed every word to memory for the day he finally mated with a woman who he was in love, he yearning to gave her as much pleasure as he felt, exactly as he was doing now.
The hard slaps of skin against skin resonating throughout the hut mingled with the pathetic moans of your lips as you grip his forearm tightly shoving your hips into his, he's startled, lips between his teeth to keep from escaping a moan stuck in his throat at your obscene, insistent body language, grinding against him, the squelching noises of your cunt permeating the air.
“ Mmnh… ah, deeper, please Ma' Teyam”. You beg, sighing breathlessly between moaning.
He moans as he feels his cock bumping against your cervix, your body writhing beneath his, his tail swaying back and forth content with the words coming out of your mouth, it seems unreal to hear you call him that while begs him to go deeper, it's so overwhelming that he feels like his heart is going to stop beating any minute because suddenly everything seems too much, its too much to feel you pressing against him sighing between moans that consists only moaning his name when he thrusting into you like the sweetest of songs, mating with him because you want to it and begging for it and so good that his legs almost give out, as he purrs frees his hand from your tail only to bring it down onto your ass in a hard slap.
That screams with the tears that form at the corners of your eyes as the sensation of his now wildly, falter thrusts the walls of your cunt clench around him tighten around him almost becoming too much for him.
“You are mine now”. He whispers in you ear as his hand snakes around to your front so he can grip onto your throat, feeling your breath hitch underneath his fingers when he squeeze down, you whimper in a pathetic display of submission. " Say it "
You shake your head weakly, that would be too much, it would be too much to say when you still didn't want that arranged marriage, you still didn't want that Nateyam, who suddenly seems so attractive, so handsome that the irrational part of you desperately wanted him to be only yours. Tears well up in your eyes from the lack of air, which causes a strange feeling inside you, and you let out a silent cry as your body approaches orgasm with the stimulation of his fingers on your clit.
“ I'm yours, your vonvä ” You gasp. “ Only yours Teyam”
A sick satisfaction washes over Neteyam at your words. Ewya, he knows you'd hate it if he actually knocked you up, but your submission takes him totally over the edge. His hand releases your throat as he fucks you a few more times, a guttural growl coming out of his chest groaning as his his cum paint the slick walls of your cunt which are so sensitive in search of your own orgasm and he smirk watching you try when his fingers stop the stimulation on your clit, the lewd sounds coming from your used pussy seeps his cum.
He circles your clit a little more precisely, the pressure in your lower belly becomes immense, it's like ecstasy, flooding your body as it shudders beneath his, screaming you let out a hoarse moan, throwing your head back as your entire body shudders under his control finally succumbing to the orgasm that leaves your vision dark, your body relaxing at the pleasurable sensation.
A silence falls as you both pant, his muscular body slumping as his knees give way, putting all his weight onto your body that is now lying on the mat, eyes closed and heavy breathing trying to establish the normal rhythm of your breaths heartbeat that now seems to beat at a much stronger rate than normal with the thought that even without tsaheylu, even without being in front of Ewy you are now mated.
With a man you're now not so sure would still prefer you over all those Na'vi who practically begged to be mated, however that fate has naturally been accepted by you now.
“ Will you mate with me now? “. You hold his hand, wrapping it in yours. “ I mean before Ewya”
“ You're mine, aren't you ?” The words roll off his tongue before he even has a chance to process them. “ I'll mate with you before Ewya and make the bond for life, I'll make you my Tsahik, but only if you want it ”.
You take a moment to answer, not out of uncertainty but because the words are stuck in your throat, his warm breath blowing against your neck now that he's nuzzled his face there, inhaling you natural scent, licking the pulse point until you moan softly.
“ Yes Ma'Teyam, I want to ”
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st-eve-barnes · 21 days
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By your side (Aemond x wife reader)
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I haven't written anything in a while but of course I had to write something inspired by that gif (it's a little different in the fic though). This was written quickly, feel free to point out any mistakes, I just had to get this little thing out.
Summary: Aemond is in need of comfort and reassurance and his wife is there for him.
Word count: +1240
Warning: none, this is just some angsty fluff
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All my fics are also on AO3
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You found him in his favorite spot, his comfortable chair by the fireplace, where he loved to read at the end of a long day or have a drink to forget about his worries before going to bed. Tonight was the latter, minus the drink.
He had barely greeted you when you walked in, in fact he barely looked up. Not even when you had taken off your coat and revealed your favorite green night gown, the one Aemond loved the most. His lack of attention for you was enough to tell you your husband was preoccupied and distracted.
“Council didn’t go as you had hoped?”
Aemond was quiet for a while and you didn’t push, allowing him time to resurface from wherever his mind was right now. It took a few minutes before he answered, his voice weak. “They laughed.”
You turned to look at him but Aemond didn’t meet your gaze.
“Every time I tried to bring up these undeniably pressing matters they just laughed at me. They are fools, all of them.”
You sat down on the side of the bed, facing the fireplace and him. He was down to his undergarments, his leather discarded on the floor, his eye patch on the bedside table and his hair loose, framing his long face. He looked more vulnerable than ever in the dim light of the fire and your heart bled for him.
“War is imminent and they just choose to ignore it, am I the only one with common sense in this entire bloody realm?”
He tried to raise his voice but it came out more broken than before.
You didn’t speak, instead you rose from the bed and walked over towards his chair. Not wasting any more time you took your rightful spot in Aemond’s lap, your hand cupping his cheek gently, bringing him back down to the warmth and solitude of the room instead of his loud, intruding thoughts.
Finally he looked up to meet your eyes, his hands coming to rest on your hips, his good eye was clouded with emotions.
To the outside world Aemond seemed calm and stern, always in control and always confident. But anyone who truly knew him, knew better than that and you had gotten to know him a whole lot better than anyone else during your two years of marriage.
Your husband was stubborn, protective, kind or cold depending on who he was dealing with. A warrior and a scared boy all in one. The smartest dumbass you had ever met. His beauty still amazed you every single day and his devotion to you was unlike anything you had ever dared to hope for or dream of in a husband. 
But there was an undeniable dark side to him as well. Aemond held so much unresolved anger in him, always right there under the surface. Ever since Lucerys, and even before that, Aemond was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off and you were never not aware of it. 
Despite that he had been nothing but kind and loving to you and you had never felt any kind of fear in his presence. On the contrary, the longer you had been married to him the softer he had become with you.
He closed his good eye and pressed his cheek into your hand, letting out the breath he’d been holding all day. Your comforting touch gave him the much needed solace he couldn’t find anywhere else. Your hands moved to caress his hair and his cheek, pulling more soft sighs from him. You didn’t have the words to heal all his wounds but you knew Aemond didn’t need them at this time. All he needed was your comfort, your loyalty and love.
You placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and felt him pull you deeper into his lap. You followed willingly, as you always did with Aemond.
You both sat in silence for a while until finally he spoke again.”When they laughed…I was right there again, that little kid who everybody hated and ignored….he had the entire world against him but he was so brave.”
“You are still brave, Aemond,” you whispered, caressing his long silver hair.
“And I’m still hated and ignored,” he added with a sigh.
“I don’t hate you, and I would never ignore you, my sweet husband,” your lips curled up into what you hoped was an encouraging smile and much to your relief Aemond responded, although it was weak the little hint of affection in his eyes was a clear sign his anger was already fading.
He leaned in to place the softest, lingering kiss on your lips making your heart flutter.
“I am not deserving of any of this,” he then whispered.
“What do you mean any of this?”
“You,” he breathed,” I am not deserving of you.”
You cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to look at you,”I chose you. Have you forgotten that? I’ve gotten plenty of other offers but I only wanted you, Aemond.”
“You chose me before…before I…”
“I would still choose you today,” you reassured him and Aemond looked at you with surprise and a hint of tears in his eye.
“You would, wouldn’t you?” he realized,”Even after…what I’ve done.”
“What you’ve done isn’t worse than what half the men in Westeros have done.”
You hesitated for a moment.
“I know we’re on the verge of war and you’ll have to do much worse things than that,” you then added,”I am not naive, Aemond, I know the dark world we live in and I know what’s ahead of us but...it does not change how I feel about you.”
His eye seemed to be locked on yours now, looking at you in awe as a tear ran down his cheek but it wasn’t one of sadness this time.
“You will be by my side, through all of it,” he realized again, even though his words sounded like a question.
“Of course. I have sworn my loyalty to you, my prince, I do not take such things lightly.”
Aemond nodded at your official choice of words and you quickly added,”Besides that I…I love you. No matter what happened in the past or what the future may throw at us, I am on your side, husband, always.”
You gently wiped the tears from his cheek and Aemond breathed a sigh of relief.”Avy jorrāelan, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys.”
I love you, my sweet wife
HIs hand traveled up your back to drag you closer to him and capture your lips in another kiss, this one more heated and urgent than before but after a while he hesitantly pulled back. Worry was still clouding his beautiful features, making him look beyond exhausted. You lovingly cupped his cheek and gave him an understanding smile.
“Can we just rest tonight?” he requested quietly. You were quick to nod and pull yourself out of his lap, reaching out your hands to take Aemond with you. He followed eagerly, the both of you seeking refuge under the covers of your marital bed, the silence of the room and the comforting crackling of the fire adding to your own exhaustion.
Aemond’s arm snaked around you in a protective pull to have you closer to his chest, needy and warm.
The impending war would have to wait for now, the only thing that mattered tonight was holding your husband.
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gtgbabie0 · 1 year
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✧My precious boy✧
{Your son is an ugly reminder of the boy Aemond used to be}
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Aenys wasn’t like his brothers, he was more reserved preferring to sit by himself in the library reading about dragons and old Valyria, the boy was only seven yet he knew more about the histories of Westeros then than his siblings.
He had an impeccable talent with the brush, painting beautiful pictures of whatever was on his mind, he often spoke through them more than actual words you found.
Aenys however was dragon-less and often missed out on sword practice much to Aemond’s dismay, “He is seven and has yet even tried to acquaint himself with a dragon let alone even visited the dragon pit” your husband sighs in frustration his arms wrap around your waist bringing your back into his chest.
He stands behind you in contemplation taking in the warmth of your soft body, eye patch discarded somewhere within the room, “Perhaps you should talk to him” you smile taking one of his hands and pressing a meaningful kiss to his knuckles before he moves away from your warmth.
The horrible truth is that Aemond doesn’t know how to talk to Aenys, his youngest son, he doesn’t know to stop seeing his own reflection deep within his child how to stop the burning hate that seems the spread across his skin whenever he looks Aenys in the eyes, the remainder of himself almost taunts Aemond in ways he couldn’t describe, and he hates himself for it.
A horrifying reminder of all Aemond used to be, a fragile, scared little boy who was in desperate need of a gentle loving mother, clinging to her side whenever he felt less than others, and a father that he needed who could show him right from wrong teach him how to be strong so he needn’t clutch at his mother’s dress.
He hates the guilt that drowns his heart whenever he looks at his youngest son, how he wishes he didn’t feel such anguish towards his boy.
He doesn’t reply to your suggestion instead he hums quietly, “Mother!— Mother!” You smile at Aenys who comes running around the corner with a very tired knight following behind him, “Look! I painted this for grandsire” he beams with a huge smile splayed across his face small specs of paint staining his hands and cheeks.
He shows you a beautiful painting of Balerion flying amongst clouds during sunrise, “Oh my precious boy, this is wonderful” a sense of pride blooms in your chest as you look down at your son holding his artwork, “I’m sure Viserys would love this my dear” you smile pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
You glance back at Aemond who isn’t even looking, “My dear isn’t this amazing?” You tug on Aemond’s sleeve trying to catch his attention but you get nothing just a simple ‘hmm’ before he walks away leaving your son with a disappointed smile.
“Don’t worry sweetie, I’m sure your father is very impressed” you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, “Let’s go take this to Viserys, Hmm?” You suggest as Aenys nods his head enthusiastically, you take his small hand in yours leading him to the king's bed-chambers.
“Aemond, would it kill you to at least try and talk to him? He is your son— he is your blood” you beg, the hour is late and you’re tired but you can’t let another day go by where Aenys is met with isolating silence from his own father, “Please Aemond” it’s a final desperate plea, looking at him as you thread your fingers through his soft hair.
He looks at you with a concern painted over his sharp face moving from your gentle touch, “My sons will learn how to wield sword and shield, my sons will ride dragons, they will become warriors”
Frustration creeps up on you lighting your skin on fire.
“Aenys is no son of mine” it’s a painful thing to say, and the words catch in Aemond’s throat leaving a horrid taste in his mouth.
You look at him with disgust in your eyes and it sends a cold shiver through Aemond's lean body, “How dare you.” You whisper through gritted teeth your nails digging crescent shapes into your palm, “He looks up to you Aemond, it would break his heart to hear you speak like this— talk to your son” you sigh in frustration and there’s an uncomfortable feeling that wedges itself between you and your husband.
“TELL ME HOW!” He screams desperation straining his voice as his eye well up with tears that carry a mean mixture of guilt and anger, “Tell me how— how can I talk to him without feeling hate coursing through my body” his voice trembles, and you’re left in shock.
“And what exactly do you mean by that Aemond?— I would be very careful with your next words if I were you” he looks at you hurt very evident on his face.
Aemond sighs heavily sitting by you on the bed you move away from him slightly, “When I look at him all I see is myself— I am reminded of the things they used to say about me, their laughter mocking me-“ he trails off hands running through his hair, “- I can not stop seeing myself within all, all the terrible memories” he doesn’t make eye contact with you far to scared of your reaction.
“Aemond, you fool— of course, you will see yourself in him, he is your son” you shift closer to him, “Aenys thinks that you hate him for no good reason, and you need to fix that Aemond because I will not stand by and watch anyone, especially his own father treat him with anything other than kindness and respect” You kiss his cheek before standing from the bed.
Aemond looks up at you with curiosity, “There is more to bond over your son with than swords and strength, talk to him about old Valyria, teach him high Valyrian take him to see the dragons, you have more in common than you allow yourself to believe. Talk to your son Aemond, do not take after your father" And with that, you walk out of the room leaving your husband confused and hurt with much to think about.
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☾⋆AN// another piece I found in the depths of my notes app that I’m currently trying to clean up, anyway I hope you enjoyed it!! <3
Requests are open btw! <3
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whereireid · 1 year
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
series masterlist | avatar masterlist
pairing: tonowari x omatikaya!fem reader
Summary: After mating with Tonowari, you experience a glimpse of domesticated bliss. Grateful that you’ve chosen a doting mate, you bask in your relationship, despite the insecurities that plague you regarding his old mate, Ronal. After you confess this to him, he decides to show you just how over her he truly is.
— warnings: age gap (21/yo reader) mutual pining, plot, family drama time oops, mentions of insecurity, reader doesn't feel worthy of being tonowari's mate, fluff, smut, dead ronal, bathing ! nsfw content (bc this wouldn't be a sex pollen fic if it was sfw 🙄) nipple sucking, brief mention of tonowari having lactation kink, fingering, orgasm denial, oral sex [f recieving] p in v, mating, breeding kink.
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There is no longer a fire which blazes within you.
You wonder how there ever even was to begin with. Surrounded by water, your flame should have been snuffed out the minute that it was sparked. The cool breeze of the reef should have blown out the flicker before it began to burn wildly.
The irayo flower — a token of your homeland, beautiful with its lavender purple and tulip pink hues — had a side effect so dangerous that it caused a sickly fever to pulsate through the Metkayina leader. A fever that no medicine could cure. A fever, cooled by only your touch and your touch alone.
Inside of you, there is silence. Despite the fact your face no longer burns with heat whenever you gaze at the Metkayina leader, you still drown in desire and want. Tonowari is sleeping, cocooned by his hammock, a peaceful expression clouding his face as his chest rises and falls slowly, soft breaths leaving his mouth.
You wonder if the sea had claimed you before you had claimed it. You knew your sisters and brothers had no trouble adapting — Lo'ak felt more at home here than he had in the tribunal forests of your homeland, and Kiri felt comfortable and in touch with Ewya wherever she went. Neteyam, the mighty warrior, had adapted quickly to the new hunting rituals, bringing home many pounds of fish, and Tuk had impressively learnt in days how to weave items of clothing by using Metkayina flora.
They'd adapted properly, using their labour to find a way to fit in, and though your family would always be outcasts — with your five fingers a contrast to their four, a constant reminder that you are alien — their labour proved their worth. They were accepted.
Though you're smiling at the thought of your brothers and sisters, your heart tugs — how would they react to the news? When your father had hounded you to find a mate, he surely meant someone more... age-appropriate. Your father certainly did not mean that he wanted you to mate with someone whom he often drank Pongu Lumpia with.
Shaking your head, your fingers close around your robe. It's a maroon red, woven by Tuk with flora she'd found in a cave on the reef. It cocoons you into a shield of warmth, hiding you from the cool ocean breeze which rustles throughout Tonowari's marui. The cold air causes him to stir in his sleep, the coolness a sharp contrast to his heated body.
You watch as he grumbles in discontent, his ears twitching in annoyance, your own flittering upwards in anticipation. "Tonowari," you whisper, edging towards the Metkayina leader, your fingers darting over his thighs when you reach his hammock. "The sun is rising. You must wake soon."
"It has not risen, yet. Come to bed, little one. I miss your warmth."
Tonowari's voice is groggy, ridden with sleep, and you hesitate, your fingers lingering on his strong thighs. "We must tell my parents—"
"—We will tell them later. Join me, for now. We will do whatever you wish when the sun has risen."
You pout in disproval, though you listen. The hammock is comfortable, adapting to your weight as you sink inside of it, and you squeak slightly as Tonowari's strong arms wrap around your frame. "You're so warm, little one," he grunts, his voice rumbling in his chest as he speaks, his nose nuzzling against your own. "It must be because of that robe."
Goosebumps flicker up your skin as Tonowari's hand begin to sneak underneath your garment. His fingers make lewd movements, darting from your abdomen up towards your chest, a shiver ghosting up your spine as his thumb flicks over your nipples, which harden as the cool breeze begins to wash over your frame.
"Would you like for me to take it off?" You moan, and it sounds so sweet that Tonowari's cock throbs with need. Your heart hammers in your chest as his deep blue eyes bore into your own, his finger gently begging to roll your nipple between his fingers.
"I do not want you to get cold, little one," Tonowari mumbles, his breath flittering against your chest as he dips his head, his lips peppering gentle kisses against your skin. "Keep it on."
There's a foreign sensation that crackles through you once Tonowari's lips wrap around one of your nipples. As he gently begins to suck, you gasp, your body jolting towards his as an overbearing feeling of electricity pulses through you. It bites at every nerve, making your body throb with electricity.
"Oh." You mewl, your face growing insatiably hot as Tonowari hums against your nipple, your eyes shutting tightly as he purrs against your skin. "This feels—"
"—Good," he finishes your sentence, pulling away from your breasts, a lewd trail of spit following him. Your gaze flickers down towards him, and you wishes you hadn't even bothered looking, because a moan catches in your throat when you see his swollen lips and lust-filled eyes trailing over your body.
Tonowari's tongue wets his lips, before he dips his head to latch his mouth around your nipple again. It's a strange sensation, to say the least. You've never really explored yourself there before — but now you're really wishing you had.
You squirm under Tonowari's touch, and a moan catches in your throat, but you're unsure of whether or not it actually escapes your lips or dies before it gets to do so. His lips wrap around your sensitive nub, careful as his sharp teeth begin to graze softly against the bundle of nerves, and your hands instinctively fall down to his head, your fingers running over his braids as he laps at your nipple.
Tonowari's tongue skilfully swirls around your nipple, and warmth pools in your lower belly as he begins to grow eager, his hands darting down towards your loincloth. "Please," you beg, though you're not exactly sure what you're begging for. Warmth curls at every nerve inside of you as his fingers disappear under your loincloth, your breath still in your chest as you try to anticipate his next move.
“Breathe, little one,” Tonowari utters, his fingers gently brushing over your slits, the sensation making you melt with warmth.
You nod and try to steady your breathing. Tonowari is still and it's driving you crazy — your hips instinctively buck against his fingers, and a breathy whine escapes your mouth. He shoots you an unimpressed look, and you blush. Once your breathing is even, Tonowari continues. Though the soft flickers of his brows are knitted together and his eyes are somewhat narrowed from your eager bucking, his touch is gentle, his wet, warm mouth wrapped around your nipples, his tongue beginning to flicker again.
Every nerve inside of you is lit, blazing and burning wildly. His fingers gently part your sticky folds, electricity crackling up your spine as he sucks at your sensitive nipples, his eyes lulling shut soothingly.”
"You are going to be even more needy for this once you're carrying our child," Tonowari says, his fingers gliding up and down your slits, satisfied with how wet and needy your cunt is. "Is this your first time being pleasured in such a way?"
"I've never touched myself there before," you admit hoarsely, shivering as Tonowari nibbles at your bud in response, the sensation sending butterflies fluttering through your stomach. "Just my — my, uh—"
"—Just your cunt. I know, little one. I saw everything when we committed Tsaheylu."
Your face blazes with embarrassment, but Tonowari does not falter. You swallow thickly, a whine catching in your throat as Tonowari's fingers press into your cunt, the curling of his digits making you jolt. The unexpected intrusion makes you mewl in appreciation, your hands pressing eagerly against the back of his head, encouraging him to keep sucking.
It's all you want. The sensation feels electric, and it makes you drown in heat. The air in the marui is scorching, making it difficult to breathe, but you focus on the rising and falling of your chest, not wanting him to stop again.
"I forget how new you are to all of this," he chuckles lowly, the sensation vibrating against you, making you mewl. Insecurity tugs at your heart, because you are new to this — but your mate seems so delighted. "You're so reactive. Tell me, little one, do you like this?"
Tonowari bites at your nipple, and you gasp, rutting into his hand like you're in heat. The sensation makes tears bubble in your eyes, because it stings to have your sensitive bud pressed between his two, sharp canines, but you're so wet that it doesn't matter, a sultry twinge shooting through you at the lewd action.
"Yes, I like it," you mumble drunkenly, your eyes blown and dark, your body craving him. His fingers curl inside of you appreciatively, a soft squelch echoing around the mauri, and he grins against your chest.
"Mmm. You're going to love it once you're with child," he states lowly, his fingers slowly working at your cunt, scissoring you open. "If you're this sensitive now..."
He trails off, unable to finish his sentence, and you let out a breathy moan. Between the lewd curling of Tonowari's fingers and the feeling of his hot mouth suckling at your chest, you feel yourself growing blind. Heat flashes through your body, an insatiable warmth pooling in your stomach as your thighs begin to tense, locking his hand in place as he fingers your cunt.
It feels so good. Tonowari devours you; his entire presence sending shocks shooting through your body. It's so deliciously wrong to have the Metkayina leader sending you into oblivion with his sharp teeth and gentle mouth, and you gasp as you squelch and squirm and clench down around his fingers, your moans mortifyingly loud.
"I need to — Tonowari, please, I need to —" you plead, your eyes beginning to grow heavy and your body edging towards numbness as his teeth catch your nipple again, rolling his rough tongue against the bud gently.
"Breathe." He says, tone so sharp that it feels like a knife, your body prickling with heat as your orgasm approaches; hard and fast and heavy, weighing your body down as you begin to tremble and shake against him.
Your eyes are closed so tight that you see stars. Tonowari's fingers curl inside of you as you attempt to take a deep breath, and you wail, the feeling so overwhelming and good that you begin to cry. Your chest is heaving — really heaving, and your lungs burn with the urge to breathe but you just can't, and despite Tonowari's reminder earlier, you’ve forgot.
Your body writhes beneath him. You wriggle, pleading for air because each stroke of his fingers and flicker of his tongue makes it impossible to breathe. You can't even think anymore, so dumb from the hot sparks which shroud your body into what you thought to be unattainable bliss that your nerves grow numb.
"Little one, you need to breathe," Tonowari repeats, but your ears are ringing and you can't hear him because his teeth are rolling over your nipples and he's sucking so good and his fingers are curling inside of your cunt so tortuously. You can't hear anything except for your own blood pumping inside of you and the shameful squelching of your cunt, and you hump against his fingers eagerly.
Just when you're on the brink of cumming, just as you suck in air and begin to shake and convulse, he stops.
You begin to gasp for air, writhing against his chest, your eyes tired and heavy as all of his movements stop. Tonowari pulls away from your chest, his look of disapproval burning through you.
"You forgot to breathe," he says accusatory. Your eyes peek over him, and your breath stills in your chest again. Tonowari's eyes are so blown that his irises are being swallowed, leaving just a thin ring of the aqua-blue around the edge.
"I'm sorry. Felt too good," you mumble breathy, your fingers splayed over Tonowari's head, pushing him eagerly towards your chest. "Please?"
He frowns, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I cannot please you if you do not breathe."
"I will breathe, yawne," you utter desperately, beginning to hump at his fingers. "I promise you I will breathe. Please, Tonowari, I need to feel good."
His lips press against your neck. His mouth is warm and wet, and he suckles slightly, a shiver spreading throughout you as he laps at the skin. Tonowari begins to pepper his kisses down towards your chest, leaving gentle bruises in the wake of his lips, and your body instinctively presses against him as his mouth brushes against your nipples.
"You're so good, yawne," you praise, your eyelids growing heavy as his lips reattach to your nipples, hot sparks exploding throughout your body. "So good to me."
You focus on your breathing this time — in, out, in out, in out. Tonowari's fingers curl inside of you again, and it's back to square one. Except, not really. You're so hypersensitive that as his teeth graze against your nipple, teasing and deliberate, you cunt clenches, and Tonowari grunts.
He's so hard that it physically hurts him. The lavender tip of his cock is leaking with pre-cum, but he doesn't even bother to move in an attempt to fist himself free of the shackles of his own desire for an orgasm. Tonowari is so focused on you and what makes you feel good, which just so happens to be anything he does.
You're appreciative of the fact that he's focusing on your pleasure rather than his own. Tonowari explores you, his tongue darting across your skin, goosebumps rising in it's wake, before returning back to your sensitive, swollen nipples.
Your chest feels so tight. Your heart hammers, pounding, and you focus on your breathing, making sure to satisfy Tonowari. You feel his cock, hard and rigid, pressed up against your thighs, as you try to brush against him but it's impossible. You can't move, pinned under his weight, under the feeling of his delicious tongue which swirls skilfully around your nipples and the curling of his fingers.
"I'm going to —"
"Do it."
You whimper, nodding eagerly at his words, dragging your lips between your teeth. It all feels too good, too much, and you begin to convulse. Warmth spreads throughout your abdomen, your cunt growing even slicker as he fingers you, rolling into the spongy spot inside of you with ease.
It feels like a knot is violently unraveling inside of you. Your breathing becomes unsteady, uneven; manic and quick. The knot feels like it's being ripped apart. Snapped and torn and frayed.
You let go of everything. You feel nothing but him. His touch is ecstasy, and you feel divine, holy as you cum.
The rays of the sun blind you as you come undone around him. Twitching, jolting, shaking. You're blazed with pleasure, dumb with need, and Tonowari's ears twitch eagerly, listening to every moan and cry that spews past your lips.
You blink, hazily, your breathing uneven as his fingers pull out of you, his mouth still suckling on your breasts. Tonowari groans, his hands grabbing at your skin, squeezing your hips tightly.
Confusion clouds you as Tonowari’s hips judder against your thighs, a gasp of realisation slipping past your lips as his hard cock pulls away from your plump flesh. He’s came — his own breathing is uneven and steady, and he’s left a painting of sticky cum against your skin. His ears pin tightly against his head, but he doesn’t seem embarassed at all. It’s like this is a totally normal thing for him.
And maybe it is. But it’s not for you. Your eyes are wide in shock, your fingers still as they press against Tonowari’s chest. His face is now inches away from yours, and he has a satisfied, smug grin plastered across his lips.
“Was that good, little one? Did that satisfy you?”
“You came.” You say, bewildered, your hands shaking as they press against his chest, your brows knitted together in confusion. “How — Why did you —“
“Your pleasure is my pleasure, yawne.” Tonowari mumbles, and the term of endearment makes your heart soar. “This is not unusual for me.”
As always, you frown. Tonowari is referring to his previous encounters, with his previous mate. Jealousy pricks at your heart and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to fill such big shoes. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers pinching you cheek, and you scowl, your tail thrashing behind you.
“You like making me feel good?” You ask timidly, eyes crinkling as the sun blinds you, hiding yourself in Tonowari’s chest.
“It is what I enjoy doing the most. Pleasuring my mate is my greatest pleasure.” Tonowari affirms, shooting you a loving smile before his head turns to the entrance of the mauri, his eyes squinting from the sun. “I wish we could continue, little one, but the sun has risen.”
The sun has risen. You pout, somewhat disappointed that it can’t continue, because your body still feels electric from where he’d been pleasuring you. “It’s time to tell my family about us,” you say breathlessly, and Tonowari grins.
“Yes, it is.”
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The walk back to Tonowari's marui is solemn. Whilst your father had disapproved, at least at first, he'd shrunk into himself once you'd told him that you and Tonowari had committed Tsaheylu, now bound together for life. It's somewhat ironic — Jake Sully cannot criticise you for who you'd chosen your mate to be. Your father had not only stolen your mother from Tsu'tey, a mighty warrior of the Omatikaya, he'd also been actively working against your community and your culture when doing so.
Eventually, your father accepted. Although he almost keeled over in the process, he'd accepted.
Tonowari didn't celebrate the way you thought he would. He just nodded his head and thanked your father for approving, and then turned heel and left.
And you'd followed him.
That's how you've ended up here.
The floor is almost scorching, and you shuffle forwards in discontent. Despite living in Awa'atlu for a few months, you still haven’t quite gotten used to the insatiable heat. You feel sweaty, uncomfortable, and your heart tugs as your mate pulls you towards his marui, your eyes flickering over towards him.
He hadn't even celebrated. Maybe it was because he knew your parents couldn't exactly deny you of him — Ewya had approved of your bond, and he is also Olo'eyktan. This is his clan, and you are his mate.
But... maybe that wasn't the case. And you don't want to think this way, you truly don't, but a little voice is in the back of your head is telling you that he didn't celebrate because he'd been through all of this before. Tonowari, perhaps, didn't celebrate because he had no need to — he'd been mated before, with Ronal, and he'd probably went with her to tell her parents, also. And he'd probably celebrated then, because she was the love of his life and she was supposed to be his mate forever.
You grimace, pushing your doubtful thinking away. You know of Ronal. She was a strict Tshaìk, yet a loving mother. A fierce leader. Her connection with Ewya was strong, and your heart pulls in your chest as Tonowari's fingers intertwine with yours.
There's an ounce of comfort in the small gesture. Safety. Your ears pin backwards and you look away, your eyes fleeting over every grain of sand as an excuse to not look at him.
The reef is booming with life. Children run, and parents chase them. Nobody even looks your way — Tonowari had promised you that they wouldn't. Until your bond is announced, nobody would think that you were both seeing each other, rather just assuming that he was just guiding you somewhere.
When you see the familiar, curvy triangular shape of the marui, your ears prick upwards. You try to stop at the entrance, needy for rest, but Tonowari's strides don't falter, until your hands slip from one another's grasp.
"Why have you stopped, little one?” Tonowari asks, his voice gentle as he eyes you suspiciously.
You hesitate under his pointed gaze, shuffling on your feet. "I thought we were going back home."
"I have something I want to show you," he utters, offering out his hand. "Come on, little one.”
"Where are we going?”
"I will show you. Come on."
You pause, eyes flickering from the marui to your mate, before you begrudgingly accepting his hand. Despite the two of you both being Na'vi, the size difference is overwhelming — Tonowari towers over you by a couple of feet, and his hand is so big that it sheathes the both of yours.
Minutes pass, and there is only silence. There is no conversation shared between the two of you. Tonowari holds your hand proudly, guiding you towards the rocky reefs. The slippery surface of the rocks makes your heart patter in your chest fearfully — you still hadn't quite gotten used to the feeling of slimy seaweed on your feet, and your hesitant steps are proof of that.
"You have not yet adapted," Tonowari chuckles, his grip on you strong as he guides you between two rocks, that stand tall and mighty.
"It's not that easy." You mumble, shivering as cold washes over you as the rocks begin to hide the sun.
He smiles. "You will learn soon, little one."
As your eyes adjust to the loss of sunlight, you can't help the awe that tugs at your heartstrings as you realise where Tonowari has taken you.
In your homeland, there was no such thing as a private, docile place to clean. All of the Omatikaya, including the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk, used a communal lake to bathe. Although the clan leaders were allowed to bathe alone, the others bathed together. There was just simply not enough water in the forest for the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk to have a personal, intimate area to clean and bathe together.
But here — in the reefs — there is nothing but water.
"What is this?" you whisper, your skin crawling with goosebumps as Tonowari presses his lips to your forehead gently.
"What do you think?" Tonowari quips back, watching as your nose crinkles as you breathe in the husky, earthy smell, your eyes scanning over the deep, pear-shaped entrance of the shelter.
There's something so intimate about how Tonowari guides you. His hands are resting on your shoulders, eagerly pushing you towards into the cave, your eyes falling on the downwards curve of the floor, which transcends into a pool of milky, steaming water.
"Is this yours?"
Your mate smiles, his nose nuzzling into your neck, his fingers slipping down towards your loincloth, gently beginning to untie its knot. "It is ours," he states, his face illuminated only by the blue and green bioluminescence moss which laps at the sides of the pool. "I heard from your father that in your homeland, the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk did not have their own private bathing quarters."
"When did you hear that?"
"JakeSully loves to complain when he's intoxicated. Pongu Lumpia makes him even more insufferable than usual," Tonowari grunts, smiling as your loincloth drops to the floor, leaving you bare in front of him. "He feels that as Toruk Makto he is worthy of privacy."
Tonowari's freckles are glowing in the dim light of the cave. “I say that he gave up the title of a mighty warrior when he fled his home.”
You try not to giggle, but it’s really, really hard. Tonowari has always been critical of your father, and his small joke actually allows you to bask in a sense of comfort.
Warmth cocoons you as he ushers you into the pool of milky water, watching as you submerge yourself. The silky hot water is perfect, and your face flushes with a light sheen of sweat and embarrassment as your mate begins to undress himself.
He stands so proud as he shows himself to you. You feel warm and gooey as he traipses into the water, and you try to focus on anything but him. There’s a slight lingering feeling of dread which pulses through you, ruining the slightly intimate moment, because you know deep down that Tonowari had shown Ronal this exact cave before.
The cool, fluorescent algae illuminates the cave, and there's a low, bioluminescence glow shining from beneath the milky substance in the water. It's beautiful in the cave, and pieces of moss glow like stars above you.
Your heart tugs in your chest as Tonowari's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer towards him in the water. "What is on your mind, little one?" He asks, pressing a soft kiss to your wet temple, his lashes long and damp, soaked from the water. "You have been quiet ever since we left JakeSully’s marui."
The blissful solitude shrouds you, and you let your head hang on his chest, which has a shines turquoise from the water. "Nothing. I'm fine, Tonowari," you mumble, shooting him a gentle smile as he embraces you, his braids sticking to the wet skin of his back.
"You do not seem fine," he grumbles, careful as he picks up some circular moss which resided on the rocks. He squeezes the soft green plush, gentle as he begins to excrement soap from it, rolling it between his fingers. As soapy duds begin to form, he hums, rolling the moss against your skin, using gentle circular motions when he washes you. "Do you wish to tell me what is bothering you, little one?"
Tonowari's interaction with your father keeps replaying inside your head. Everytime it repeats, your heart pulls, cracks in half, and you can't tell if you're being dramatic or emotional or what. Tonowari hadn't reacted, he hadn't celebrated, he hadn't even smiled when he got your father's approval.
Because he'd been through it all before. With Ronal.
As he's washing you, soft in his motions as he rolls the soapy moss against your skin, all you can think about is how he's done this before with someone else. It plagues you. It's like a sickness.
"Yawne, I cannot help if you do not say anything," he says softly, beginning to cup the milky water in his hands, his ears twitching as the water trickles your skin.
“How are you over her?”
“Over who?”
“Ronal.”
Tonowari pauses for a brief second, before continuing to wash the duds off of your skin. Your voices echo around you, bouncing off of the cave walls, and your face flushes when his hands gently begin to massage your shoulders.
“She died a long time ago, little one. I cannot live in solitude and mourn any longer. She is with Ewya now.”
“But you’re supposed to mate for life. You’re — you’re still here. She’s still your mate.”
Tonowari frowns, his motions gentle and circular, his thumbs riding down to your back, focusing on a tight knot between your shoulder blades. “You are my mate.”
The silky hot water mixed with Tonowari’s fluid motions is an incredible soother. You feel like all of your tension is melting away, and despite the self-doubt and insecurity which flitters throughout you, you find yourself relaxing.
“But so is she.” You’re exasperated, confused.
You knew Tonowari had been mated before. You knew all of this before you chose him.
So why now, when you’re in too deep, are you having second thoughts?
“You are my mate.” Tonowari’s voice is soft, fleeting against your ear. “Do you need me to remind you of just how badly I want you, little one?” His breath fans against your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine and your stomach flips at his words.
You shake your head, a gentle gasp slipping past your lips as Tonowari turns you, his grip on your shoulders harsh as he does so. His palm squeezes your skin uncomfortably, and your breath hitches in your throat as his eyes bore into yours, so black and blown that the ring of ocean blue is barely visible.
“No, Tonowari. I don’t need a reminder.” Your voice is hoarse as you speak, wavering slightly as Tonowari’s nose nuzzles against your shoulder. “I know I’m your mate.”
“I do not think that you’re aware of how badly I’ve wanted you, little one.” His fingers dance against your skin, and his arms become submerged by the hot, silky water. Tonowari's hands cup your thighs, his body ushering you to the edge of the pool, and you squeak as you feel mossy rocks press against your back. "Ever since you came to the reef, I have not been able to keep my eyes off of you, and the second you gave me that irayo flower... it was the greatest excuse to get close to you."
"Excuse?" you murmur, breathless as his strong arms sit you against the rocks, his nose rubbing against your inner thighs. "What do you mean, excuse?"
Tonowari's teeth graze against your skin and you whine, your heart pitter-patting in your chest as his rough tongue laps at your skin, leaving dark-coloured bruises in its wake. “It hurt, yawne, more than you’d ever know. And like I told you — I was rutting like a newly mated Na’vi, and the only relief I got was when I would see you, and that is when I knew you were sent to me. From Ewya.”
“Oh,” you breathe, your heart tightening in your chest as Tonowari’s lips press against your cunt. His tongue laps at you eagerly, the rough muscle parting your slits, and a gentle whine slips past your mouth as he does so. Hot, electric sparks shoot up your skin, and your legs jolt slightly as his tongue swirls gently around your clit. “Tonowari.”
“You wonder why I chose you,” he purrs against your cunt, the vibration sending shockwaves through your pussy. “I wonder how you could ever choose me.”
The intimacy of Tonowari between your legs makes your stomach clench. Despite being recently mated, he hasn’t had an incredibly high libido — you haven’t snuck off to rut at every possible chance, rather having an even and steady sex life. But this — the way he’s nuzzling against your cunt, licking and lapping and sucking at the heat sloppily shows something different a
A primal side to him you haven’t seen before.
He's grunting, and you look down for a second, confused as to why he’s making noses. Then you notice his hand, which strokes up and down his cock in a steady motion. Tonowari is pleasuring himself whilst pleasuring you, and you moan, so conflicted to how a man can make you feel so horny.
Tonowari's tongue draws patterns on your clit, and his breathing becomes heavy as he strokes his cock, his eyes lulling as he laps at your cunt. He's so eager to please, kissing your heat softly, listening to every mewl and whine, and your stomach begins to twist, growing insatiable with every roll of his tongue.
And then you feel it — the knot inside of you begins to break, twist apart, fray at the hem. It's so peaceful this time, so satisfactory, and your moans bounce off of the cave walls as you cum, your hands behind Tonowari's head, pushing his face into your cunt needily. You hump against him like you're in heat, the feeling of his rough tongue stroking you through your orgasm making you shake.
"I must show you how much you mean to me, yawne," he comments, his voice shaking slightly as he strokes his uncomfortably hard cock with need. "Can I breed you?"
"Breed me?" You ask, exasperation lacing your tone as Tonowari joins you on the rocks, his strong hands pinning you underneath his body.
"That is what I asked, is it not?" He utters, his body sheathing your view of the bioluminescent moss which litters the top of the cave, shrouding your vision with black. The only light you have comes from the light-blue specks on his face, and a breathy moan leaves your mouth as Tonowari's cock glides through your slits, an unexpected jolt of electricity shooting up your spine.
"I'm just confused as to why you asked. We've done this before."
"I want you to carry my child, little one," he grumbles, a low groan sliding past his plush, sapphire lips as his tip rolls against your clit. "This is not just making the bond. I will be doing this with the intention of you growing plump with life."
You literally can't imagine anything hotter than being swollen and filled with Tonowari's children. You can't speak, the feeling of his tip rolling against your clit sending electric sparks fluttering through your nervous system. "Please," you squeak out, your heart burning with desire as his girthy tip presses against your entrance, your tight cunt beginning to sheathe his lavender tip.
"You are going to look so beautiful when I'm finished with you," Tonowari hisses, his stomach tight as his hips begin to roll into you, even and steady. "So beautiful, carrying our children, whilst practicing to become Tshaìk. I chose well."
Everything feels raw and sensitive. Your cunt clenches down around him, your senses somehow heightened in the dampness of the cave. Steam from the hot pool of milky water begins to evaporate, your skin covered with an aqua blue sheen from the condensation. Pressure pools in your lower belly, your ears twitching with every roll of his hips, your cunt tight when the tip of his cock brushes deliciously against the sensitive spot inside of your cunt.
It feels so liberating, knowing that he wants you. Truly wants you. You're not just a replacement — each needy thrust of his hips tell you that. Tonowari's fingers desperately grab at your queue, and you whine at the uncomfortably tug, but hot white flashes spark through your nerves system when his tendrils connect with yours.
Holy shit. This feels so much better than when he first ever bonded with you, and your legs shake as he stretches you thin. It's so painful but so amazing. His cock is nestled deep inside of your cunt, and you're so slick, so wet, droplets forming on your skin from where the reside of the water is beginning to dry. Tonowari's movements are smooth, easy, and your white ring of arousal paints the bottom of his length, coating his balls, and he groans as he fucks into you, his lavender tip throbbing as you clench around him tighter.
"You're made for me," he breathes out, "I cannot believe you ever doubted my love for you."
Through your connection, you can feel his pain. You can feel everything — the pull of his heart as he thinks about how insecure you'd been, and you scold yourself for ever being so silly. Tonowari, your gorgeous, loving mate intertwines his fingers with yours, and you swear you've never felt so good in your life.
You're intertwined with Tonowari in every way possible. Your cunt pulses around him, throbbing with need, and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your shoulder. "Oel ngati kameie," he mumbles, his eyes boring into yours, the black of his pupils so wide and blown you can no longer see any part of his irises. "Yawne, please, talk to me."
"Feels good, Tonowari," you blink, chest heaving as he fucks into you, being careful to focus on your breaths as your body begins to tingle with lust. "Almost ready for you to fill me up."
"Pxasìk," Tonowari curses, his accent thick, drawling in your ear and sending goosebumps exploding on your skin. "I'm ready. You're so — so tight, I can't hold back."
"Earlier all you did was hold back," you tease, moaning as the lewd squelching sounds of your cunt echo around the mossy cave. "Not — not letting me finish because I didn't breathe."
Tonowari is gentle as he slaps your thigh, warningly, a dangerous look painting his face, but it crinkles into something different as you purposefully clench down around him. You're so tight that it's like you're milking him, and you're so wet and warm, it's driving him crazy. "You were being naughty, yawne," he comments, his voice wavering as your eyes begin to flicker shut, your moans hitching in your throat as his hips roll into your sensitive bundle of nerves.
It's the most perfect thing you've ever felt. Neither of you speak as it happens, your orgasm crashing over the both of you in a perfect, delicious wave. You shake, jolt against him, cry out as your vision blackens with white stars, heat exploding through your body, your cunt tightening around him as you feel his seed begin to spurt inside of you. his own cum in you, your walls so tight and wet, the sound of his balls slapping lewdly against your cunt echoing throughout the cave, your moans merging with them to create an orgasmic mixtape.
You're so warm, the steam from the pool mixing with your insatiable heat from being crowded by Tonowari for so long, and he embraces you proudly as you twitch beneath him, your cunt feeling raw and full. He holds you, and his strong presence makes you feel so safe, the feeling of his cum painting your walls making you shiver.
"You are everything to me," he utters, his teeth grazing your neck as his tongue laps at your skin, basking in the slight, salty taste of sea water and sweat. "Please do not doubt that again."
"How can I?" you whisper, grumbling as Tonowari rolls over, positioning you atop of his chest as he lays on the mossy rocks. The blue and green glow from the algae and moss reflect on his face, painting his features, and you smile as you lean down to brush your nose against his, your finger splaying over your belly. "I'm going to have a constant reminder."
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eywaite · 4 months
Text
Tìkin
Romancing Pandora Day: #1 ~ Somnophilia
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Pairings: Adult Neteyam x human fem reader
Words: 2K
Summary: Neteyam can never control himself, he needs you, craves you. And no hour of the night will stop that need.
Warnings: Aged-up character, NSFW, somnophilia, needy Neteyam, P in V, size difference, human x Na'vi.
Notes: I adore needy Neteyam, he's the sweetest baby.
Credits: Credit to @world-of-pandora for the beautiful Neteyam gif. Credit to @cafekitsune for the MDNI and Support banners.
Na'vi Translation:
Tìkin: Need
Tewng: Loincloth
Ikran: Mountain banshee
Mawey: Be calm
Ma: Vocative marker used to indicate whom the speaker is addressing. Can be used with a name.
Sìlpey: Hope
Irayo: Thank you
'Eylan: Friend
Kelku: Home; place of dwelling
Talioang: Sturmbeest
Oel ngati kameie: I See you
Oeyä: My (possessive)
Tamsiyutsyip: Little warrior
'Itan: Son
Kelutral: Hometree
Yawne: Beloved
Eywa, tìtxur oe ting: Eywa, give me strength
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The cool night wind is gentle, calming as it whips around Neteyam, soothing the burning ache running through his veins from being away from you for so long.
Neteyam promised it wouldn't be long, a couple of days max. He reassured you that he wouldn't let it go any longer, soothing your growing pout with a kiss, sealing his promise with deep kisses and bruising thrusts the whole morning before he left.
One week; seven days of being seperate from you. Neteyam craved you, need you, desired your touch and scent and taste so badly that his tewng has been tented for days, cock yearning for your warmth even after he's made himself cum. Neither of you have been apart from each other since your first mating, always by each other's sides for months now.
His thoughts run wild with images of you, your soft lips and silk hair, satin skin on his, blunt teeth nipping at him. He images you under him, over him, holding him, on your knees for him. Neteyam grows more desperate as his mind reminds him of your pretty noises and addicting taste, what he'd give to be in between your plush thighs, drinking in your heavenly taste as you grace his ears with your sweet voice.
His ikran shriek shakes him out of his daze, dodging a mountain he was steering them into. Neteyam steads his mount, petting her side, "Mawey, ma Sìlpey." he calms her, clearing his mind to ease her. "I'm sorry, my girl, I just miss her."
Sìlpey lets out a soft purr, her eyes looking up at Neteyam, a wave of pity flooding his chest from their shared bond. He chuckles, petting her head, "Irayo, ma 'eylan. I know you miss her too."
The loud yips and yelps from his fellow hunters ring around him as they emerge from the clouds under him, excitement buzzing the air the closer they got to home, the soft glow of far off lanterns causing a silhouette of the kelkus coming into view. If Neteyam squints, he can see his family's home in the middle of the village, his mother probably waking up from the horns blaring, signalling their arrival.
Neteyam follows behind his father and brother, moving aside to allow the hunters carrying the talioang he brought down to land first. Ka'ani drifts his ikran closer to his, attempting to bump him off course, Neteyam quickly dodges him, glaring at his friend as Ka'ani cackles to himself.
Steering clear of everybody, Neteyam lands in line with his brother, dismounting and releasing Sìlpey to go to her nest with the other ikrans. A loud squeal pierces his ears, laying them flat against his skull as the shouting continues.
"Teyam! Teyam! Teyam! Teyam!" Tuk screams over and over again, barreling into his side, squeezing the life out of his ribs as she giggles.
"Oel ngati kameie, ma Oeyä Tamsiyutsyip." he greets his overly energetic little sister, hugging her back while wondering how she has so much energy hours after her bedtime.
"Tuk! Let your brother breathe." Neytiri scolds her youngest, prying her daughter off her son long enough for her to wrap him in a tight hug. "Are you doing well? You look tired, 'itan." Neytiri pulls back enough to examine the dark circles under Neteyam's eyes.
Neteyam steps back from his mother, giving her a soft smile while giving Tuk over to her. "I'm fine, Mother, just glad to be home..." he pauses to look past his mother's shoulder, trying to find any glimpse of you. "Have you–"
"And Neteyam!" Lo'ak yells directly into his ear, furthering the ringing Tuk started. "Neteyam saw it! I took down the talioang and–"
"And just barely missed the second one before Ka'ani shot it first." Neteyam rolls his eyes, ruffling Lo'ak's braids as he tells the same story for the hundredth time in the last two days, justifying why he didn't catch his second kill.
Kiri comes out from behind Neytiri, smiling at Neteyam before rolling her eyes with him at Lo'ak's antics. Taking the distraction of her presence as Lo'ak begins his story again, Neteyam slips out of the growing crowd, walking out from the comfort of Kelutral to the tallest tree standing right next to it where your shared home is, hopefully with you waiting for him inside.
Ka'ani snickers at him as he passes, "I wonder why you are in such a rush to get home?"
Neteyam wrinkles his muzzle in playful annoyance at his friend, "For the same reasons you haven't shut up about Etia." he bites back, slapping Ka'ani's shoulder before running off.
Every step closer to home, closer to you drives Neteyam to move faster, practically sprinting to the tree, hauling himself up the worn branches faster than his mind can comprehend, a jolt of pure excited lust running through his body when his hand makes contact with the small porch he had made for you, swinging himself onto it so gracefully the wood under him doesn't even creak.
"Yawne!" he calls out eagerly, slipping under the gap of the blanket covering the doorway, "Oeyä Yawne?"
The room is dark, only the natural light from the glow of the small glowing flowers you've decorated your home with light up the space, a beautiful show of purples, and pinks, and blues color the night, your favorite night light. And tucked in the corner, under the blanket he wove for you is your little form, sleeping soundly in your shared hammock. The slow, deep breaths you take echo across the room as your breathing mask amplifies the sound.
Quietly, Neteyam removes his hunting gear, putting it in it's place so if you woke up you wouldn't trip over it in the night. He stops short of the hammock, leaning his arms on the wall behind you so he can look at you without disturbing your sleep.
You look so peaceful, soft lips open as you take slow breaths, your skin looking softer than ever under the glowing lights, your hair like a halo around you, still adorned with the beads he braided in for you.
Neteyam's ears shift at your every small noise, tail swaying behind him as he watches you react to your dreams through the small twitch of your nose and clenching of your fingers. You roll over, shifting the blankets, letting a wave of your intoxicating scent filling the air and flooding Neteyam's nostrils.
Your scent is Neteyam's favorite drug. His favorite thing to bathe in, to drink in your scent while he buries himself in your heat, feeling like his mind shortwires everytime he catches your sweet scent in the wind. And now your scent and phantom taste is clouding his mind, spiking the ache he has for you.
Neteyam unties his tewng, slipping into the hammock behind you, using years of training to move his body slowly and with enough precision to not wake you, wrapping his long arms around your small body, pressing your soft, warm skin against his. Burying his nose into your hair, a long sigh of relief leaves him as your essence fills his lungs, your softly curved body hugging his perfectly.
"Missed you so much, Yawne." he whispers into your hair, dragging his nose down to your neck, feeling your pulse on his lips. You shift again, your body naturally moving to lean into the big, warm body of your lover, your small hands wrapping around his wrists, holding him closer.
As you shift, you ass pushes back into Neteyam's raging erection, the movement causing a delicious friction that drives Neteyam just a little closer to insanity, fighting the urge not to shake you awake and beg for your attention.
He wishes he could satisfy his desire for you, kissing your small, soft lips until they're swollen and raw, but that damn mask that keeps his beloved alive is always in the way.
Testing his luck a little, Neteyam lifts your leg, hooking it over his thigh, allowing enough space for him to slip his cock in between your thighs. Your soft, wet folds are heavenly against his leaking tip, you're soaked, absolutely dripping for your mate's thick cock. Neteyam feels a prideful smirk pull at the corner of his mouth, thrilled that you've missed him as much as he's missed you.
Neteyam can't control the aborted little thrusts he does against your core, biting his bottom lip to hold back his groans, watching your every breath to make sure his hormone induced movements aren't waking you. Every drag on your slick folds sends a shiver down his spine, he mouths at your neck to keep his noises at bay, praying his heavy panting doesn't annoy you awake like many times before.
He craves more; needs more, but refuses to wake you from your sleep. It isn't fair, you deserve your sleep, no matter how badly Neteyam wants to get his cock wet.
Your small body twitches at every drag, breathing picking up as you whine, burying your mask covered face into the blankets, squirming away from whatever is disturbing your sleep.
Neteyam forces himself to stop, watching you for a long moment as you settle back down, the fog built up your mask dissipating as your breathing goes back to normal. Pulling your leg up just a little higher, Neteyam presses his tip on your entrance, biting his knuckle to stop his whines threatening to wake you, drunk off the feeling of your slick rolling down his shaft and onto his swollen balls.
The push into your tight, wet, warmth is agonizingly slow to not wake you, his sharp canines drawing blood from his swollen lip as he fights to not praise you for the blessing that is your pussy.
Neteyam hides his face in your hair as the swell of your ass meets his pelvis. "Eywa, tìtxur oe ting..." he groans, feeling your gummy, inviting walls flex around him, sucking him in impossibly closer. Your hips shifting as you moan, your brow furrowing as your body tries to understand this overwhelming feeling of fullness while still staying asleep.
You whine as Neteyam thick cock drags against your sensitive walls when he pulls out, sinking back into your heat immediately, hating the cold feeling that runs down his spine from being even an inch away from you.
In and out. In and out In and out. A building rhythm of thrusting, grinding his cockhead into your sweet spot just to hear your sweet moans grace the night air, a thin layer of sweat covering his body sticking you together, making every outward thrust torture as the cold air tickles his skin.
Neteyam can feel his balls tighten, the heat in his lower stomach traveling to the rest of his body, numbing his limbs as your walls flutter around him, signaling your approaching orgasm. His hand quickly drops to your little clit, using your slick to smoothly rub tight circles into the bundle of nerves, causing the most satisfying moan to fall from your sweet lips as your orgasm washes over you, your body beginning to tremble in Neteyam's strong hold.
Neteyam moans as your cunt tightens impossibly around him, pushing him right over the edge, his thick, hot seed painting your greedy pussy white until you're full and it's spilling out around the small space between the two of you. Neteyam squeezes your small, satin body in a comforting hug as he pulls out, leaving a dark mark on your neck for you to show off tomorrow.
Climbing out of the hammock, Neteyam fetches a rag and water, cleaning you before cleaning himself. Putting everything away, Neteyam crawls back in, facing you so he can nuzzle at your chest, resting his head on your breasts as he cuddles you close.
Your small fingers tangle in his wind blown braids, hugging his head against your chest as your body relaxes to sleep. "It's good to see you too, baby."
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©️Eywaite2024 | All rights reserved. Do not republish, steal, repost, modify, translate or claim any of my work as your own.
𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼: @tallulah477 @eyweveng @neteyamsoare @blue-slxt @sulieykte @puddle-nerd @softsnowydreamer @fadedpetal @xylianasblog
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foxylady13 · 4 months
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"A thing of secret, lovely beauty"
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Artist: Kloartz over on IG!
~Gwyn nimbly rolled to her feet, grinning so broadly that Nesta was momentarily taken aback by it. The priestess had been pretty in the library, but with that joy, that confidence as she aimed for the three priestesses, she had emerged into a beauty to rival Merrill or Mor.
~Gwyn’s fingers slid into hers, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up to find her holding Emerie’s free hand as well. Gwyn smiled again, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”
~Gwyn let out a high-pitched noise that was nothing but pure excitement. Azriel, on the other side of the ring with the rest of the priestesses, half-turned at the sound, brows high.
~Azriel had winnowed her and Cassian here after training, but hadn’t lingered. Apparently, Gwyn wanted him to go over dagger handling, so he’d left them with a promise to return in an hour.
From the bonus chapter: Which happens inbetween Ch. 58/59 of ACOSF
~His shadows peered over his wings at her.  The young priestess smiled--and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows.
~“Aren't you cold?" His breath clouded in front of him.  Gwyn shrugged. "Once you get moving, you stop noticing it."  He nodded, silence falling. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. He blocked out the bloody memory that fashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now. Her head ducked, as if remembering it too. That he'd been the one who'd found her that day at Sangravah. "Happy Solstice," she said, as  much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing.  He snorted. "Are you kicking me out?"  (He's showing concern about her being cold and we have proof from Azriel he was there at Sangravah and Gwyn isn't making things up like the other side tries to say)
~Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he'd spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. "I can't  sleep without my favorite dagger."
"A comfort to every growing child."  Azriel's lips twitched. He refrained from mentioning that he did indeed sleep with a dagger. Many daggers. Including one under his pillow. (Azriel shows more positive emotions with his interaction with Gwyn than seemingly around anyone else)
~How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.
~She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Do you, though?" she pressed. "Sing?" Azriel couldn't help his soft chuckle. "Yes."
~Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her  self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. "I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days." Azriel laughed. "I’ll give you that."  Gwyn smiled broadly. "Thank you." Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.  
~"Happy Solstice," Azriel said before aiming for the archway into the House. "Don't stay out too much longer. You'll freeze."  Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer. (Again, Azriel is showing care/concern over Gwyn possibly being cold/out too long and just look at the wording used here)
How the bonus chapter ends:
Clotho's pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her.
Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to  the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it.  
But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. 
A thing of secret, lovely beauty.
These scenes take place after the bonus chapter:
~Cassian glanced over at Az, but his attention was fixed on the young priestess, admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face."
~The world seemed to pause at the words. As if it had been following one path and now branched off in another direction. In a hundred years, a thousand, this moment would still be etched in his mind. That he would tell his children, his grandchildren, Right then and there. That was when it all changed.
~Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved.
~Azriel clapped his hands, and all the females straightened. “You’ll work in groups of three.” Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.” Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.”
~Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. “You have no idea what you just started,” she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. “Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?” Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. “You’re the new ribbon, Az.”
~“The first had just unbuckled his belt when Azriel arrived.” Silent, unending tears streamed down Gwyn’s face. “Azriel slaughtered all of them within moments. He didn’t hesitate. But I could barely move, and when I tried to get up … He gave me his cloak and wrapped me in it." (Without hesitation, Azriel slaughtered all the soldiers and gave Gwyn his cloak.... similar to Lucien breaking free of his restraints without hesitation to get to Elain and give her his cloak)
After reading all this.... how can you NOT think Gwyn and Azriel are endgame? And this is what you missed on Glee......
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little-diable · 6 months
Text
Always have, always will – Dean Winchester (smut)
This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa fic for @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior <3 I hope you love this little story as much as I do! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: It's been years since Dean and (y/n) have parted ways, but perhaps this year's Christmas season is finally the right time to find their way back together.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, very fluffy, only a tiny tiny bit of angst, but full of love and nostalgia
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.2k words)
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“Sam?” Dean’s gritty voice echoed through the bunker, eyes focused on the neatly wrapped box that had been placed on his bed. He waited for his brother to answer the call of his name, waited for the sound of Sam’s boots meeting the cold ground, but nothing could be heard, leaving Dean engulfed by a thick blanket of silence. 
He approached the box with caution, as if it were a dormant trap waiting to pull him in. Gingerly Dean picked it up, turning it in his hands. The wrapping paper crinkled beneath his touch, curiosity mingled with suspicion in his piercing eyes. Slowly he unpacked the box, freezing as his eyes fell upon an all too familiar leather bound book. 
Dean sank down on his bed, holding the photo album in his hands, eyes taking in the old leather, letting his thumb stroke the fabric with a smile tugging on his lips. Memories, frozen in time, spilled out before him like an ancient tome of secrets. His heart skipped a beat as he leafed through the pages, images of laughter and shared glances filling the spaces between the faded photographs. It had been years since he had last seen this book, back at Bobby’s where he had reached for it whenever he could, with her pressed to his side. 
It took Dean a few moments to notice the neatly folded paper that had been attached to the leather, reaching for the letter with trembling hands. He’d always recognise her handwriting, the slightly cursive words pressed into thin paper like ink tattooed into his skin. Dean couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes, having to blink a few times before he could focus on the letter she had written to him. 
“My dearest Dean, 
It has been years since I’ve last allowed myself to even speak your name. A name I’ve hated for longer than I’d like to admit, well perhaps not the name, but the memories tied to it. But the truth is, Dean, as much as I told myself to hate you for breaking my heart, for pushing me away, I can’t help but long for you. But now I think I finally understand why you did it, at least I like to think I do. 
I’ve been holding onto this photo album for a while now, but it’s only fair you also get to have it for some time. Sam told me you’ll be around for the Christmas days, I’d like to see you, catch up on the past years. I’ll be at Suzie’s this afternoon. 
I'll be the one trying to figure out how the hell I got so sentimental all of a sudden.
I love you, Dean
Always have, always will.” 
……
The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled his nostrils, hanging in the air like a thick cloud of smoke, a pleasant scent Dean would long for whenever he was away with Sam, dreaming of this very café. It took him a few moments to find her, hiding away in a booth in the back, the same one he and Sam always sat in. (Y/n) had her eyes focused on her phone, cuddled into the big knitted sweater she wore. 
Dean ran a hand through his snow covered hair, shuffling out of his jacket as he slowly approached her. Like a thunderstorm about to strike it seemed she could feel him before she saw him, slowly lifting her gaze, unable to bite down the smile tugging on her lips. She had always been beautiful, a rare kind of beauty Dean had been in love with ever since he had been a young boy, but now she was even more beautiful, at least to Dean she was.
“You came.” Her whispers were drowned out by the laugh leaving Dean, hand stretched out to pull (y/n) to her feet and straight into his arms. He felt her deeply inhale his familiar scent, clinging to Dean as if he was an old memory about to fade, unable to hold on for long. The two parted only slowly, eyes wandering over one another’s features before they sat down, vis-à-vis from one another.
Their hands stayed connected, resting on the table with their fingers interlaced, falling back into their old pattern all too easily. Neither of them dared to look away, needing to take in every inch of the face they hadn’t seen in years, needing to etch this very moment into their minds. 
“I missed you, thank you for the album.” Dean’s voice carried something calm, something awfully comforting (y/n) had been longing for ever since they had parted ways. The mere memory of that very day had haunted the two, replaying in their minds every single night, wondering where they had gone wrong, wondering why Dean had pushed her away for reasons she now only slowly began to understand.
“I missed you too, even though it took me a while to accept that. And like I wrote in the letter, it’s only fair you get to have it too. Sammy told me how much you talk about it.” For a second Dean froze, wondering if Sam and (y/n) had been in touch all these years. Not once had his brother mentioned (y/n) – perhaps he had simply tried to protect Dean and his broken heart, but yet Dean couldn’t help but doubt his brother’s motives. 
“I didn’t know you and Sam kept in touch.” Suzie, the owner of the café approached the two with her coffee pot, filling their cups. 
“(Y/n)’s a regular here, she and your brother meet almost every week, don’t you?” The woman was all too oblivious to the tension now sticking to Dean, slowly pulling his hands from (y/n)’s warm ones. She tried to chase his touch, just for a millisecond, before she began to realise that they had just entered a rather uncomfortable territory, no longer sticking to the nostalgia this place offered to Dean. 
“He was there for me after, well, you know. Sam tried to make me understand why you pushed me away, I needed somebody to talk to after you were no longer in my life.” Dean reached for the coffee, momentarily watching the steam rise like souls rising from their graves, leaving their decomposing bodies behind. Pain thumped through his system, clinging to his every muscle and bone. 
“I,” he placed the cup back down, letting his calloused thumb stroke along the rim. “I needed to protect you, I couldn’t concentrate with you around, could only worry about you, not on our hunts. And just the thought of something happening to you because I was too distracted was a risk I didn’t want to take. I knew you’d be safer without me around, in some fucked up way.”
He watched tears well up in her eyes as his throat began to tighten up, struggling to keep on speaking. (Y/n) averted her gaze, watching the snow fall from the sky in never ending streams like tears dripping from her eyes. For years Dean had imagined this very moment, with her sitting close to him, allowing him to share the dark thoughts he had struggled with, the thoughts that were his own, personal hell. 
“It took me a while to understand it, but I think I get it, you hurt me, you broke my heart. But I guess that’s the price we pay in our profession, isn’t it?” A teary laugh left (y/n), hands rubbing her eyes to get rid of her tears. Dean reached for her hands once again, thumbs stroking the back of them. 
“I never stopped loving you, if that still means something to you.” He watched her pupils dilate, growing wider as if he had just shared his darkest secret with her. And yet it had never been a secret, the one thing he had always been honest with, the love he fostered for her. Dean was too slow to realise what she was doing, shifting her weight to lean over the table, lips finding his slightly parted ones. 
Dean instantly gave in, lips moving in sync with hers like they had done all these years ago. One of his hands found her cheek, cupping the soft skin to keep her close to him. The soft hum leaving (y/n) broke the two apart, allowing them to catch their breaths, looking at one another with irrevocably love swimming in their pupils. 
“Do you want to come home with me, sweetheart?”
……
“Are you sure Sammy’s not home?” She panted her words, pressed against the mattress of Dean’s bed with her naked chest exposed to his wandering eyes. Dean could only hum, lips kissing their way down to her stomach, hands already fumbling with her jeans. It hadn’t taken the two long to end up like this, searching their closeness like magnets made to fit, desperate to feel what they had been aching for since they had parted ways.
“Fuck, I missed this, missed this so much, Dean.” An almost boyish grin began to widen on Dean’s lips as he lifted his head, rising from the bed to tug his shirt over his head. He felt her eyes on him as he stepped out of his jeans, only left in his dark boxers as he helped (y/n) out of her remaining clothes. 
“Let me take care of you. You’re mine, and only mine, I hope you remember this, (y/n).” No matter how many people the two have searched comfort in, none had ever managed to make them feel like one another managed to, made for one another like puzzle pieces fitting together. His touch burned itself into her body, kisses forever lingering on her skin as Dean settled between her naked thighs, tongue swiping over her arousal covered folds.
Her moans guided him on, a sound he hadn’t heard in years, and yet he had never forgotten about it once. Late at night, when he had been aching for her, hand taking care of his desperation, he had thought back to all these nights they had shared, long faded memories Dean clung to. (Y/n) kept moaning his name, eyes fluttering close, hands tugging on his roots, hoping that he’d add more speed to his movements.
His thumb rubbed her pulsing bundle, tongue dipping into her tightness with excitement laced in his gaze, set on teasing her till she’d cry his name. He ate her out without holding back, without paying much attention to the incoherent words leaving her parted lips, high on her taste. Only as Dean felt her spasm around his tongue did he slow down his pace, letting go of her seconds before she could tumble over the edge. 
“How dare you-” her sentence was cut short by the kiss Dean pressed against her lips as he reached for a condom, only parting from (y/n) to roll it down his length. The two kept holding eye contact as he aligned himself, pushing into her after a small nod was thrown his way.
It took the both a few moments to adjust, no longer used to feeling one another like this, needing to fully relax before they could tumble over the edge together. Dean moved slowly at first, wanting to take his time with her, wanting to relish in the now unfamiliar closeness he had been dreaming of like a starving man in need of food. 
Curses left the two, echoing through his dark bedroom, alighted just enough for them to look at one another. Their moments together had always been intense, urged on by their longing, by their lust thumping through their veins like drugs, but tonight their time together had something to it neither of them could pinpoint.
“Dean,” his name rolled off her tongue all too effortlessly, a sound that would push him into his grave, Dean was sure of it. She wanted to keep on talking, wanted to express her love for the man she had unsuccessfully tried to forget these past years, forever tied to him. He dipped his dead down to kiss her, using her distraction to add even more roughness to his thrusts.
Dean fucked her into the mattress, eyes set on her naked frame, on the body he had thought of whenever he had grown lonely. She had been the one thing on his mind, the one thing Dean had been able to cling to. Both their moans guided them on, pushing them over the edge in unison. 
He clung to her, not daring to let go as they rode out their highs, desperate to prolong the moment for as long as possible. Dean dipped his head down to press a soft kiss against her swollen lips before he pulled away. She watched him disappear and reappear moments later with a towel, carefully cleaning both. 
“Will you stay?” Dean’s whispers echoed through the room, making a smile tug on (y/n)’s lips as she let go of a soft though loving “Of course I will”.
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s10127470 · 1 year
Text
My Ideal Revival of the Disney Heroes Franchise
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What you’re looking at is the official logo for a now defunct franchise known as Disney Heroes.
Disney Heroes was basically meant to serve as the sister…..or more appropriately, the brother franchise of the Disney Princesses, with the focus being placed on the male heroes of the Disney pantheon.
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The franchise initially started back in 1999, but under the name of Disney Adventurers. Not only that, but the line-up was rather small, consisting of the titular protagonists of Hercules, Aladdin, Peter Pan, and their most recent film at the time, Tarzan.
The franchise mainly existed through toys, with some notable merchandising besides that here and there.
The franchise remained this way until about 2003, when it got a notable revamp.
The franchise would get its current name and it would expand the roster quite a bit. The new members included Merlin and Arthur from The Sword in the Stone, Robin Hood, Prince Phillip from Sleeping Beauty, and Li Shang from Mulan.
I also think Simba from The Lion King was a part of the roster as well, I think I remember seeing him on a backpack done for the franchise.
But in 2005, the Disney Heroes franchise had a another revamp…this one notably different from the previous ones.
Although the franchise mainly existed through toys and play-sets that more or less stayed faithful to their respective films, these however…..
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Your eyes are not deceiving you….these were actual action figures created and designed by Disney for the Disney Heroes franchise…..and I couldn’t be anymore happier.
Hercules looks like an ancient Greek warrior with the golden armor, plus he’s carrying a big xiphos and a golden shield with the face of a lion.
Peter Pan is now sporting some tan gloves, boots, and ever a mask, carrying a bow and quiver of arrows alongside his trusty dagger.
And Captain Hook has a more swashbuckling look, and his rapier has been replaced with a big ass cutlass!
Prince Phillip and Maleficent were also apart of this line-up of action figures as well.
Phillip had a more knight-like appearance, even having a helmet with a golden falcon on top.
And Maleficent…well, she was in her dragon form.
Sadly, only five action figures were made in this style….
And it’s a shame, given that there were plans to revamp the franchise with a more action-oriented style.
These designs by Disney animator Ruben Procopio for planned future figures for the franchise really highlight this…
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Aladdin was gonna look like an Arabian Knight, complete with a dagger and a huge ass scimitar that would make Cloud Strife impressed.
Tarzan was gonna go for a Conan the Barbarian-esque look, complete with a headband, a vest, a tooth necklace, boots, and even a quiver filled with spears, knives, and arrows.
And as you could see, they were even gonna introduce The Beast from Beauty and the Beast as a new member of a roster, with the appearance of a warrior prince and a mace as his weapon.
Unfortunately, these figures never came to be....
Although Disney Heroes franchise was doing decently fine, it was nowhere near the level of success of the Disney Princesses.
As a result of that, Disney slowly but surely phased out the franchise over the next three years.
By 2008, the Disney Heroes franchise silently ended, only merchandising through coloring books and their only new addition since 2003 being....of all characters....Milo Thatch from Atlantis: The Lost Empire.
So yeah....that's pretty much the story of the Disney Heroes franchise.
It's honestly a shame because I could totally see this franchise being pretty successful today.
And given the rise of nostalgia and crossovers in media over the last decade, I could see this being an absolute goldmine for all parties involved.
And today, I'm gonna share on how I think a revival of the Disney Heroes franchise should play out.
.It would aim more towards a older audience, mostly teenagers, similar to the Disney Villains franchise. It wouldn't really focus all that much on toys like the Disney Princesses, though there would be some figurines here and there, instead focusing on media that's more accessible with a older crowd like novels, comic books, video games, and even animation.
.Unlike it's previous iteration, and to that extension the Disney Princesses, it would be more gender-neutral, featuring male and female representatives of most of the represented films as members of the roster.
.Also unlike the Princesses, this franchise has its own backstory. Various Disney villains have joined forces in other to further their respective goals. In retaliation, a group of various Disney heroes, led by Merlin, have united to fight against the villainous alliance and protect their respective realms. I know it's a pretty simple premise, but I think it's the perfect that way.
.The franchise will have a major focus on action and adventure....which for a franchise like this, should be expected.
.Many of the characters will be receiving redesigns in the veins of the ones done for the franchise back in 2005, which give off a fantasy warrior, almost Dungeons n' Dragons vibe. While these wouldn't be to the extent as say, Disney Mirrorverse, they would clearly by different from the characters' usual attire and makes them come off as more like warriors ready for adventure and battle.
.The series will essentially expand on the worlds of the films and bring in elements from their original source materials, official continuations like the TV shows, and even the cultures they represent.
Okay, now that we got the major elements out of the way, I'm gonna briefly share who would be apart of the roster for this new franchise, and list them in chronological order of movie release.
.Alice
.Peter Pan
.Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip
.Merlin and Arthur
.Mowgli
.Robin Hood
.Ariel and Eric
.Belle and Beast
.Aladdin and Jasmine
.Simba
.Pocahontas and John Smith
.Quasimodo
.Hercules and Megara
.Fa Mulan and Li Shang
.Tarzan and Jane Porter
.Milo Thatch and Kida Nedakh
.Jim Hawkins
.Tiana and Naveen
.Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzherbert
.Merida
.Anna and Elsa
.Moana and Maui
Just imagine.....seeing this iconic heroes going on various adventures, from the hottest deserts to the deepest jungles. Fighting against mythical monsters, thieves, wild beasts, villainous knights, deadly invaders, mysterious spirits and swashbuckling pirates!
Anyway, that's all for now. I'm planning to go more in-depth on this idea, fleshing out the characters and their worlds.
If you have any ideas for this franchise, let me know.
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
Note
Hiiii wanted to request Dark Aemond x Mermaid reader.
Reader is from house Manderly [ their flag had a merman in it ] and Aemond finds our her secret so he blackmails her father into marrying her.
Also some smut too maybe breeding kink of sorts.
even the whales fall prey to men.
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pairing: dark!aemond targaryen x fem!mermaid!reader
warnings: very much nsfw. explicit language. blackmailing on aemond's part. forced marriage. dubcon. breeding kink. allusions to violence and death. mentions of pregnancy.
notes: dark & obsessive!aemond targaryen makes my head go brrr. also this smut will totally suck and i take full responsibility for it.
masterlist
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The sea is much colder than usual, and across the winter sky hangs a thick blanket of clouds, dark as smoke.
It will snow soon, your mother had said at breakfast, bundled up in all her warm furs while you broke fast together. Today may be the last day we are able to swim for a while, so do make your peace and say all your goodbyes to your grandfather.
You sit on the jagged rocks that stand strong in the waters, watching as your mother and sisters finish with their own wreaths. Yours lays draped across your lap, weaved from rosemary and sea kale and the pretty blackthorn that bloomed on the nearby cliffs. The whales were making one final visit to White Harbor before leaving for warmer waters, and it was tradition to see them goodbye, and to flower them with the newly made wreathes and long garlands. It would not be until the early summer months that they would return.
“Little fish,” your mother calls out for you, already knee-high deep in the bitter sea waters. Your sisters did not wait for neither you nor her, deciding on a small race between each other. “Lost in thought, my little love?” Her face is soft and sweet, with two dimples on both cheeks, “Come or we’ll miss them!”
You were born a Manderly, under the cold moon, on the White Knife. On your first nameday, a great storm wailed outside the New Castle, crushing your lord father’s fleet to kindle and drowning the port city. Some said it was the Stranger waging war against the Father and the Warrior, high in the heavens, while others claimed the old sea god Caraxes was celebrating the birth of a new granddaughter.
Your father claimed direct descendance from the First Men, while your mother was of the true goldenblood of Old Valyria, a daughter of Caraxes himself. His mermaids, women with silver crowns and dark violet eyes and a fish’s tail for legs. The seamen swore you existed, but the rest of Westeros refused to believe.
Perhaps that was why you never strayed far from the White Knife, and from your mother’s side too.
Then again, your lady mother never faltered in warning you and your elder sisters of the myriad of dangers that came with your blood, and of people finding out the truth of such. She was a protective woman, prideful and beautiful, and a great warrior too. The magic she practiced since girlhood allowed for her to shift her appearances, and when you grew of age, she taught you the different spells and rituals, the small incantations to mumble under your breath, and the ways of honoring your grandfather.  
“Be smart about it,” she cautioned, though not sternly. With a gentle palm resting over your cheekbone, she kissed the tip of your nose, smiling down at you, “always be mindful of one’s eyes and ears, my little one. The whales know no true safety, not even in their own home.”
Oh, how you wish to go back and believe her words a little more
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It came as a great surprise that, while you were gone, your lord father had welcomed in a guest.
You had not been made aware of such, and neither was your mother, who took it as quite the insult. She immediately sent you and your sisters to your personal chambers, to wash up from the heavy sea salt that clung to your skin and hair, and to dress nicely. “The blue velvet, please,” she said, with a smile that did not reach her purple eyes. “We must look our best.” You had not the slightest clue of who the guest might be, and you ask your eldest sister if she caught a whisper. But she just shrugs. “A Stark, maybe? Or perhaps a Baratheon.”
“But what would they want with us?”
“Maybe a marriage pact is finally being proposed between our houses,” she replies with a sigh, a stupid lovesick grin twisting on her pink lips. She is a maiden of twenty and two, tall and slender and beautiful like your mother, and beyond ready to become a lord’s wife. You make a face at that but say nothing more. Would your mother even allow for that to happen? Perhaps for your sisters, but not for you.
You were still too young, a pretty daylily not yet ready for plucking.
In the Merman’s Court, you find your mother pacing by the castle’s throne, biting at her nails. She looks nervous, with eyes darting between the doors and the households that stood around the hall, cloaked in wools of blue and green. When she finally takes notice of your presence, she drops her hand and draws you into a hug. “Little fish,” and she studies you over, at how you brushed out your silver hair till it shone, and wore your nicest silks. “Very pretty, my little one. Very pretty, indeed.”
You remain by her side, clutching tightly her hand as your sisters soon step inside the hall, all clad in their prettiest gowns, in bright colors of green and navy and white, and giggling amongst themselves. Then come the court ladies and lords, the few maesters that lived in the New Castle, and your father, the Lord Manderly, followed by-
“Prince Aemond of the House Targaryen, son of King Viserys II and the Queen Alicent.”
Your eyes grow wide at the sight of Aemond One Eye, and you subtly shift closer to your mother. He was terribly handsome, you think, shrouded in black riding leather and a long cape that pooled around his dark boots. At his waist hangs a sheathed long-sword. Both his hands are tucked behind his back, shoulders straight and proud, and he wears a smirk. And his hair, every bit the same silver as yours, long and straight and neatly combed.
“Ah, Prince Aemond,” your mother greets. She curtsies, low and graceful to her knees, and you do the same. “Your visit is quite the unexpected one, but we welcome you into our home. Is White Harbor to your liking, my prince?”
He hums. “There are many seamen that dock themselves at King’s Landing, and almost all of them have spoken of the White Harbor, and the beauty that it possesses, particularly during these winter months.” His voice is deep, almost a purr, with a crownlands accent. “Although, my lady, now I cannot help but wonder if your daughters are the reason for that.”
Your mother clicks her tongue, and ever so slightly her eyes narrow. “You honor me, my prince,” she said, “and my daughters.”
Prince Aemond grins at that.
It was your father who spoke next. “My love, the Prince Aemond has arrived with a most equitable offer from the King and Queen themselves.” He sounds quite proud, and incredibly happy at whatever that offer might be. “They are asking for an alliance to be made between our house and House Targaryen,” but he pauses, holding his gaze on your mother, “-through marriage. Prince Aemond is here to choose one of our daughters to wed.”
Your face snaps to your mother, who stood speechless.
“Our eldest is twenty and two, and a fine lady,” your father adds, nodding to your sisters that stood to your left, “and our second-born daughter just celebrated her twentieth nameday. She has no current betrothed, though she is not without suitors, of course.” Your mother holds her tongue, it seemed, choosing to keep you tucked by her side.
But Prince Aemond shakes his head. “Your two daughters are very beautiful, Lord Manderly, I speak nothing but the truth with that, but I have no interest in having their hands,” he says, before focusing his one eye on you. “It is your youngest I wish to have.”
Your mind goes blank.
“My youngest?” Your father sputters. “Forgive me for my words, my prince, but we have not planned to wed her off yet.”
Aemond shrugs. “I do not care about that; it is she who I desire the most.” He looks at your father, tilting his head, sounding curious, “Did you not promise to me any choice of your daughters, for an alliance with my family?” Lord Manderly appears nervous now, and embarrassed as well, with cheeks and a forehead flushing a bright pink. “Well…I suppose so…”
“Mama?” you whisper, tucking yourself behind her. Your fingers tremble greatly, and it soon feels too difficult to breathe. You could feel your sisters’ eyes on you, along with your father’s and the eyes of the many court lords and ladies, and the household guards too. They all feel too judgemental, pitiful and sympathetic. But your mother, she fought back. “No,” she says, loudly. “No, you shall not have her.”
“You deny your own prince?” Aemond asks, incredulous. “Such boldness, my Lady Manderly. But alas, I came to retrieve my bride, and I shall leave with her, make no mistake in believing that.”
“No,” your mother repeats, much louder than the first. Her voice, strong and willful, echoes across the Merman’s Court, sounding every much a crack of thunder, or perhaps even a roar of a she-dragon. “She is still too young, my prince, you must understand that. I will not be separated from my youngest, she is not ready to become a wife-”
“She has celebrated her eighteenth nameday, has she not?” Your mother stays silent, and Aemond grins. “She is well old enough to be my wife.”  
Your mother shakes her head. “Please, you can have my two other daughters, but not her. I refuse it! I refuse it!” She turns to your father, “My love, see with reason! She is not ready! The ocean still needs her, I still need her! Refuse it! I will not allow it! No, I will not-” But Prince Aemond cuts her off, “Refuse it?” He laughs, and you flinch at it.
“You have no power to do such a thing, least you wish to die of treason, a bloody traitor to your crown. To your King and Queen!”
He takes a step forwards, to you and your mother. “I know you, Lady Manderly,” he says, slowly, carefully, as if approaching a wild forest beast, “I know the sort of mother you are. It is very honorable, very admirable, and I thank you, from the bottom of my own heart, for raising my new bride well. But I also know you are very protective of them, and I understand.” Prince Aemond then leans his face close, until his lips linger over your mother’s ear, “-after all, dangers do tend to follow the daughters of Caraxes, do they not? And his granddaughters too. His pretty mermaids.”
He pulls back, a dark grin curling on his lips, his tone seeping in false concern. “What might happen if the world found out the truth of you? And your daughters? How you are not just liars, but neither full humans as well. The creatures the seamen lust after, alive and flourishing on the White Knife…”
Prince Aemond then peers at you from where you stood, his face softening. You timidly meet his eye. “Come, my lady, allow me a better look at you.” You swallow but do as he asked, moving to stand in front of him. “Look at you, a vision of pure beauty. You are so much lovelier than what I imagined when coming here,” and you could not figure out what hurts more: his grip on your upper arm, or the way your mother did nothing.
When you turn to glance back at your lady mother, she looks more a stranger than the woman you knew- weak and humiliated and defeated, almost in tears. It reminds you of something she told you, so many moons ago, back on the beachside. There was a dead whale carcass, fat and bloated, drifting back and forth in the harbor. In its side was buried a harpoon. Your mother shook her head at the sight.
“Even the whales fall prey to men.”
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Five days later, Aemond One Eye claims you as his wife.
He allows the wedding to partake on the beach, alongside the ocean where you grew up and loved so dearly. Your mother had pleaded with him to agree on his part to wed you in the customs of Old Valyria, and he could not say no.
I, too, am of the blood of Old Valyria, he said, quite proudly. It will be an honor to both our ancestors, may they bear down on us as we continue our bloodline.
But afterward, he was quick to whisk you away to King’s Landing, to the Red Keep where he swore you rightfully belonged. You only caught a short glimpse of the Queen Alicent Hightower and her father, the Hand, before you were locked you in his royal chambers. And now, you lay across his bed, a flood of whimpers and moans spilling from your pink lips as he squashes his face only deeper between your thighs. “You have the sweetest cunt,” he groans, sucking on your clit as your head thrashes around, and your hips buck against his mouth.
“I knew I had to have you,” he says, while running his tongue along your wet folds. Your taste, it is like no other, and he swears himself a new and addicted man. He will spend the rest of his days worshipping you if the gods allow it. “The moment I saw you, you were mine. The gods could not even deny me of you. Your lips, my sweet girl, they looked so sweet, and I wondered if your cunt would be the same.”
Both your breasts sit in his hands, and he palms at them, sliding his face up to yours, peppering kiss after kiss across your hipbones and stomach. You are so beautiful, he thinks, while pressing his face against your belly. It should be a sin that you are not with child. “I cannot wait till our firstborn sleeps here,” he mumbles, kissing it, “I will make you the most beautiful mother known to the world, and men will envy me for the rest of their damned days.”
His words make you whimper, chewing on your bottom lip as his mouth soon hovers over yours. “Tell me you want my seed,” he demands in a whisper, gripping your chin between his fingers. “Tell me how bad you need it…and I promise you, my love, you will have it.”
“Please…”
His eyebrow raises, and he chuckles. “Please, what?”
He wishes for you to beg for him- for his seed and his love and soul, to plead with him for everything, to come undone and submit yourself- as his woman and wife and the mother of his children.
But you shy away, choosing to hide your face within the pillows, a bit too embarrassed to answer him properly. It is cute until Aemond grows too impatient. His craving for you spanned over too many moons, ever since he took first sight of you swimming in the waters of the White Knife. He toasts to both the Mother and the Maiden, perhaps even the Crone, that you never saw Vhagar flying in the sky above.
“It does not matter,” he says, kissing your forehead softly before moving to your lips. The kiss leaves you breathless, trembling and hungry for more. He flings your legs over his waist, pulling you down to where you lay completely underneath him, “I do not need your permission to seed my wife, and to make her a mother,” and against your lips, he mumbles, “you belong to me, do you understand? You are mine, from this day till the end.” And within a minute, his cock is stuffed deep inside you.
“It is too big…!” you cry, grasping onto his shoulders as he fucks you hard and deep, his thrusts seeming too unforgiving.
Perhaps he is punishing you, though you had not the smallest idea as to why.
“Please! Please, husband- please, slow down!” You bounce beneath him, fingers finding your own nipples as you twist and tweak them. It felt right in the moment, having remembered him doing it only several minutes ago.
“I do not give a shit,” he grunts, his hands resting on your hips, “you were fucking made for me. This body was made for my seed, for my children, now you will take it.” Sweat beads along his forehead as he moans and grunts some more and whines, feeling the way your cunt tightens around his cock. It is perfection, a feeling that was made just for him. “You have evaded my hands for too fucking long, now you suffer the consequences.”
You feel as if your eyes might roll to the back of your skull. Your pants are heavy and hot, and you cannot help the shriek when his fingers pinch your clit, before rubbing his thumb over it. He laughs, quickening his thrusts. “And to think, your mother would have kept this from me, kept you away from me. Ah, should I speak to you the truth, my love?” It is a cruel taunt, as you cannot answer, too overtaken by this pleasure. “I would have burned the White Harbor to the ground if I was denied you. Burned your entire fucking family to ashes if they dared keep you from me. House Strong has gone extinct because of me, maybe they will come up with a new nickname for that. Aemond Targaryen, kinslayer. Aemond Targaryen, house-destroyer.”
He shakes his head, snickering, “No, those are too silly, are they not, my love?”
Your face twists up, all in utter pleasure, and your body tightens too as you cream all over his cock. Soon after, he fills you with his cum, so much it trickles down from your cunt, staining the bedsheets along with your blood. But Aemond is quick to gather it with his fingertip, though, and shove it back in you. “Every bit of it matters, my lady, especially if we wish for you be with child by the next moon.” You try to smile, but you are so exhausted and ruined and all you yearn for is sleep.
“Did…did I do good?” you breathe.
Aemond smiles, and kisses your lips, soft and sweet and loving. He strokes your hair, twirling a silver strand around his finger. You are gorgeous, his beautiful wife, this sweet granddaughter of Caraxes. All his. You and the babe that you will carry soon.
“You did perfect, my little fish.”
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the-travelling-witch · 6 months
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𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄
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summary: /ˈɔːrɪeɪt,ˈɔːrɪət/  “of a golden colour or brilliance”
pairing: xiao x gn! reader
warnings: just fluff in the form of my belated new years drabble
genshin impact masterlist
prosperous year of the dragon!! ♡
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The sky over Liyue was clear once again, the last lanterns’ glow already a distant memory as the twinkling of stars filled the remnants of the night once more. On the horizon the first sunlight of the new year coloured the wisps of clouds golden and amber, reminiscent of a shooting star’s tail or elegant dragons winding in the dawn of a new day.
For Xiao, it was the cue he could finally rest after defending the nation and its citizens from those that seek to harm them, clinging to the shadows of the night to crawl into the coming year unnoticed. There were no exceptions to his god-given duty, not even as the festive sounds of the harbour drifted up into the mountains and colourful explosives decorated the night. 
No, it was especially because of this that the ghosts of days past could not be allowed to get ahold of the mortal realm.
Green fog parted along the wooden panels of the room he occupied at Wangshu Inn before the soles of his shoes quietly made contact with the solid ground; first his toes before rolling down to his heel, one foot after the other, with a grace befitting that of a dancer, rather than that of a warrior.
What he did not anticipate as he set down his spear, however, was the soft call of his name before a familiar weight flung itself into his arms. Like a warm breeze, your arms wrapped around his neck in a gentle embrace and when he buried his head in the crook of yours, he deeply inhaled the scent of home.
“Happy New Year, Xiao,” you whispered against his skin, your voice melting the tension of his shoulders as it enveloped him, looping around your connected figures like butterflies circling a flower.
“A prosperous new year to you too,” he replied tentatively. As an adeptus, both the concept of time and the importance of this tradition was different to him and he’d never had much reason to celebrate the passing of time in such short intervals. But since he’d met you, you’d not only intertwined both your hands and fates to show him more of your world, Xiao also learnt to cherish what time he could spend with you, no matter how short it may be.
Pulling back just a little, your hands came to frame his beautiful face with delicate care, as if he was not someone to be feared but someone to be loved. You’d watched all night as lanterns had risen into the sky, carrying the wishes and hopes of the people towards the heavens. Yet none of them compared to the amber glow of Xiao’s eyes as they sparkled at you with such fondness it should weigh you down; instead, you felt like you and your heart were light enough to soar high on golden wings, no fear of falling chaining you down if you were with him.
As the sun continued further on its eternal round, aureate rays framed his head in a radiant halo and you didn’t question for even a second that the man before you could be an angel. Risking the accusation of defiling something sacred, you pressed your lips against his plush ones and tasted a piece of heaven for yourself.
When your eyes fluttered open again, Xiao looked as dazed as you felt, fingers brushing over his lips. Then, equally as reverent, his knuckles grazed your bottom lip and you took ahold of his wrist to keep him steady as you pressed a languid kiss to the back of his hand, dusting his cheeks with a light flush, like a painter perfecting their magnum opus.
“I’ve waited quite a while for my new year’s kiss, you know,” you hummed, so entranced by the adeptus in front of you, it was as if time and space around you stood still enough to count the dust particles in the sunlight. “It was worth it though.”
“I see, you are still set in your ways of dragging me into your mortal traditions,” Xiao scoffed, though there was not a single tint of malice in his voice, only teasing affection. If you couldn’t tell by his amorous cadence alone, his actions spoke even louder of his devotion. “Not that I mind in the slightest.”
With practised precision, his lips found yours again as one hand cradled the side of your face and the other pulled you in closer by the waist, as if there was a way to become physically one the same way your hearts had already done. With your attention bound by the flutter of your own heart, you didn’t notice how dexterous fingers discreetly tied a protective charm to your clothes for you to find at a later point in time. 
“What was that for?” You smiled, the distance between the two of you nearly insignificant yet too far all the same.
“I had to get my own new year’s kiss too, didn’t I?” A hint of a smugness tugged the corner of his lips upwards as the corners of his eyes softened downwards while tracing the movement of his thumb against your cheekbone. “Traditions should be honoured after all.”
Your laughter invoked the iridescence of a pearl to brighten his view as you led him over to the balcony railing so you could welcome the dawning year with all its pink and orange hues, arm in arm as the waking birds filled the morning hours with their chirping.
“Speaking of traditions,” you started, transfixed by the sight of the sun rising over the mountains in a vibrant crimson, “there is the belief that the first song you hear in the new year will predict how yours is going to go.”
“Is that so?” Xiao inquired, watching as a small bird hopped onto the wooden railing, careful but curious as it inched closer to the two of you. “It appears nature blesses us with hope and freedom this year.”
“How beautiful,” you mused, as you leaned further into him. 
Turning his head, Xiao studied the way you shone in the morning light before placing a gentle kiss against your temple, light enough you could believe it was the wing of a crystalfly brushing your skin. “Beautiful, indeed.”
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monthlymanga · 3 months
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Soldier Poet King - One Piece ver.
There will come a captain whose smile is bright and free with a hat that's made of straw and stretch as vast as seas for fun and adventure he'll do as he please and if you want a savior give him something to eat
There will come a swordsman who wields not one but three the first mate of our captain dear and made of loyalty senses sharp and a goal to reach from a fight he never runs to win he is ready
There will come a burglar as pretty as can be with her maps all drawn by hand she'll navigate the seas her eyes on the clouds and royalties she'll command the ship they sail and guide them to safety
There will come a liar who's always quick to flee a marksman whose eyes are clear and hands that are steady a sniper, a warrior and fights bravely listen to his tales so tall he'll stand for his friends' dreams
There will come a chef with a deep love for the sea a dreamer and a fighter but flirtatious he can be has flaming kicks and a love for ladies and if your paths they ever cross you'll never leave hungry
There will come a reindeer who might look cowardly a doctor who has a heart bigger than his body a child named a monster and slightly naive but if you look one final time he's more human than he seems
There will come a scholar a flower-like beauty has a love for reading and archeology with limbs that blossom unnerving is she for her nation she'll explore and answers she will seek
There will come a cyborg a proud shipwright is he a little shameless and he wears his feelings on his sleeves works filled with passion and creativity he will build a ship for us to sail on every sea
There will come a skeleton who's gifted tunefully a lonely life he has led existence a mystery a promise to fulfill and a lifetime of memories the musician will play a song and sing with joy and glee
There will come a helmsman the first son of the seas like a calm before the storm he fights powerfully he's gentle, he's righteous and pushes equality the fishman steers with a smile and laughs wholeheartedly
There will come a pirate crew 'The Strawhats' namely the world will hear their laughter as they go on this journey with hopes and dreams and desires to achieve come and join as they travel the Merry and Sunny
With hopes and dreams and desires to achieve watch and read the story of how they find the~
One Piece.
breaking out of my manga posting for the sake of this idea I had. The world needed to see this.
READ TAGS BELOW (only if you want to tho)
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daisychainsandbowties · 10 months
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what is it about that season one shoulder pat you love so much??
i have a bit of a fascination with what i call character thesis moments. they’re… these sort of pivotal, revealing scenes or even just (as in this case) a gesture that makes me fall head-over-heels for a character. and also understand them.
with ava, it was the beach run scene. for lilith, the grey hoodie scene where she asks ava “can you forgive me?” for mary it was the first scene, cradling shannon’s head and shutting her eyes and the love in every inch of every gesture. (that’s the first sign i think that warrior nun is a story about love, and survival, and in not surviving but loving anyway).
now, i’ll admit that i adored beatrice from “i thought she’d be a handful” and “faith is my business” but frankly… neither of those scenes show us who she is. i think the closest we get to HER is at the bus stop, where you watch her choose her friends over her duty, choose love over sacrifice (for the first, but not the last time).
and then… god, that shoulder slap. i can’t explain how it made me feel.
up until that point, beatrice is such a whirlwind of a character. she’s lethal, she faces down a gun with frightening disregard for her own life. she drops a tear onto shannon’s cheek as she gasps out a very rehearsed goodbye. she catches ava when she slips out of that wall, she cries over an old journal and in all that time she’s fighting so hard to remain unseen.
and then, in one gesture, she reveals who she is. if you look closely, you see how fiercely beatrice fights to hold herself, but especially her hands, in check. they are either weapons or they’re things she lets out with the greatest care. they are caring but also tentative, like moths desperately trying not to touch the flame.
if you look carefully you also see that beatrice can’t help but touch ava. she tries and tries, but then they’re in the vatican and she’s suddenly this young, smiling creature trading puns, rushing through a cloud of dust to pry ava from the wreckage of her faith, from the arms of an angel. i just think, when i saw that shoulder slap i realised how much there was to beatrice.
she’s this… ball of contradictions. she’s a nun, she came up with Cruella de Jesus. she’s faithful, she’s queer, she’s resigned to the death of everyone she loves. she’s a weapon, and yet… you look at her doing that slightly goofy shoulder slap and it betrays a sense of ‘i want to touch you and i don’t know what to do about it.’ and in that you realise that she’s everything you thought and she’s also… mischievous? slightly boyish? a fool who is already more than half in love.
i remember feeling so fond of her, so suddenly, because out of the clear blue you realise that she’s drawn to this, to this girl who told her not to hate what she is, not to hate what she craves which is touch… a certain something she doesn’t dare to name, but still she reaches out and THAT is beatrice to me.
she’s a pair of empty hands, a bottle of lightning, and for all her confidence, for all that she is undeniably so cool and calm under pressure, so absolutely lethal; she’s also young, and she doesn’t know what to do about what she feels. it terrifies her, fascinates her, makes her hands move almost of their own accord.
there is ava, who is the point around which she is supposed to rally. halobearer, holy, doomed. that little pat in the shoulder… when i take it from ava’s perspective i’m in awe, because they don’t quite understand each other yet. it’s a candleflame to the incandescence of their kiss but it’s the first time bea reaches out not to catch her, or capture her, or carry her, but simply to touch.
it’s a very blunt and beautiful reassurance and that’s what they are to each other; they’re comfort, safety, acceptance. and that throwaway moment to me is the thesis of bea’s character arc. it’s the choosing to touch, to reach out, to hold onto what she loves.
and for ava it’s sacred too. how many times in her life do you imagine she’s been touched the way beatrice touches her? the way she balances ava’s jaw in her hands when she falls from the wall, smiling at her like she’s a miracle. beatrice who is the voice in the dark and the cold, who tears down a wall to reach her because she promised and she kept it. touch is everything to ava, and i think there’s just something so special about that moment; beatrice just saying, wordlessly, ‘you’re good, you’re here, i’ve got your back.’ it’s not condescending it’s a gesture that i think demonstrates to ava that she’s not alone anymore, and it kindles the hope that she never will be again.
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teratosubmission · 12 days
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Your father, the King, had been pushing for you to join more diplomatic meetings. You needed the experience, of course, and what better way to get some than to accompany your Royal General to various meetings and discussions?
You dressed your best, of course. A light, silky skirt that barely covered the top of your thighs. Formal upper clothing without sleeves and a bottom cut that exposed your left hip and midriff. Your long flowing blond hair was freshly combed, adorned with a tiny rose sculpted from ruby. You were ready to receive this important dignitary and help lead the talks that would secure further peace between your kingdoms. Though as you had little taste for the initial boring pleasantries that go around every single staff member and noble at the very beginning, you were encouraged to wait a bit before entering the room. As your presence is announced by the door guard, you eye the General and make your way towards him, who was conversing with who you assume was the foreign dignitary… holy shit, he’s attractive? You can hear the general introduce you to him, the Formal Diplomat of the Western Kingdom, but his fanciful words sorta get lost on you as your eyes eat up his features.
God, his rippling muscles, his beautiful coat of fur, he was just… handsome. The neighboring kingdom could have scarcely found someone more attractive. You close in and gently touch his biceps and chest, gazing up at him in awe and lust. Oh god, he towered over you even more in person. Holy fuck. “Are all the wolves in the West as handsome as you?” you coo, biting your lip. You bring your knee up his thigh to subtly gauge his size by feel… oh, god, hes packing. He smirks at your comment, and he flexes for you, letting you feel just how ripped he was under all that fur. Oh my… You wanted him to devour you.
"Ahem, my lord, I know you wish to extend formalities in full,” your general interrupted, “but we have some serious business we need to discuss.” In the corner of your eye, you could spy the general adopting a stone face you’ve become all-too-familiar with when he gets irritated. Maybe he should get laid sometime, too. You’ve offered him some pussy in the past, you knew girls who would love a chance to bed a powerful warrior like himself. But he always droned something about duty and professionalism. What a bore.
“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” the diplomat replied, enthusiasm dripping in his deep voice. You start murmuring an apology but he cuts you off by tipping your chin up, gazing deep into your eyes with a roaring hunger. You salivate at his gaze, silently begging for his undivided attention. Please please please fuck me.
“I’m sure we could discuss this policy while paying my respects to His Highness.” His powerful hands grip your hips, swinging you around to face the war room table, and sets you firmly against it. You squeal in excitement, thighs trembling, as you spread your legs apart for him. God, you loved diplomacy. “Eager, are you?” he chuckles, pulling up your skirt to cup your cheeks and play with them, as the head of his cock slowly pushes against your quivering hole. You glance back at him with, happy groans escaping your lips as you beg for more. “Mmm… please…”
“Yes, please enjoy our hospitality.” His curt unfun words slice through the air, but its getting dulled by the electrifying current of pleasure sweeping through your clouded mind. “Now, you carry a proposal from the West?”
The diplomat doesn’t even skip a beat in his speech as he rhythmatically pounds into your bussy, his words getting huffy and labored as he struggles to keep his volume above your pathetic moaning with each plap. Your slender hands struggle to hold onto the table, your flowing locks knocking over some wood pieces representing some distant army. It was all distant, really. You couldn’t really hear the conversation anymore, you couldn’t focus on any part of the map on the table, you couldn’t even put two thoughts together about this whole affair. All you could do is let him slam into your hole and moan like a good boy. Let your drool pool out onto the map, let him raise you high enough your feet don’t reach the ground anymore and you’re solely leaning forward and pound you harder. Let your little cock throb and cum between your belly and the table, then just leak again and again as the waves of pleasure overwhelm you. Let him push as deep inside you as he wants and fill you up with his own cum, before pushing you further forward and letting you lay there, legs dangling off the edge with cum dripping out. You were in Euphoria.
“...And what does the prince think of this action?”
Wait… what? How long were you laying there basking in the afterglow? When did the werewolf quit fucking you? How long were they talking? There’s no way they finished their talks and were ready for royal approval. Was he really that good? Fuuuck…. You’d agree to anything just to feel him fuck your brains out again. Maybe you’ll invite him to your chambers immediately after this.
"Uh… yeah…” came your words, slurred and disjointed, as you struggled to lean your head up to gaze at the circled group of men in the room. “Sounds… good…. Someone gimme a… pen…”
One of your knights picked you up with ease, and set your toes down on the floor so you could prop yourself with your hands. You couldn’t bear to sit, anyway, not after what undignified things that foreign dignitary did to your ass… mmm, fuck… where is he? Somewhere behind you? Niice… You poke out your ass absent-mindedly and wiggle it at him teasingly.
“Your highness? The signature.” The curt words of your general snap you out of it, and realize the document had been sitting in front of you for some time. Everyone was watching you expectantly. The general in particular had that impatient look of mild disdain whenever he asked you for your permission. You got the feeling he didn’t like you much.
“Oh… sorry…” With a few strokes of your pen handed to you, the document is signed with the sloppy handwriting of a boy who still was suffering from a good dicking. Not your best handiwork, but it’s a document, not a work of art. You barely finish the last stroke before document and pen are snatched away, and the general shoots a hurried final greeting to the dignitary before exiting the room with his staff.
You can feel the weight of the dignitary press against your back, his hands reach forward on top of yours, and his muzzle presses against your ear. “You made an excellent decision this day,” he whispers, and his tongue suddenly drags up your earlobe to the pointy end. “I was hoping perhaps we could discuss more… private matters in your chambers? For the good of our kingdoms, of course.”
As you were being bridal carried by him all the back back to your bed, you kept thinking about just how much you were making your father proud. Just wait till he hears how important you were to governing favorable terms with the Western Kingdom. Or how well you're cultivating new relationships with them.
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cream0fwheat1998 · 3 months
Text
Captured
Thanks to @livingdeadgirly for giving me the idea.
(Yandere!BihanxreaderxYandere!Tomas)
It's long. Sorry.
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I have built on this idea to my own liking/ to fit the idea I have so this is MY interpretation of the idea. Please be aware that I have never played any Mortal Kombat games just watched movies & lore videos.
After the events of MK1 (2023)
Summary: Tomas and the woman he's trained have grown closer over the past few years. However a threat from the Lin Kuei (minimal use of Y/N) puts their relationship on hold as his darling is abducted by them during an attack.
WARNINGS: Dark/yandere/noncon/violence/forced relationship.
-You were a young woman residing in a rural village within Earthrealm
-You enjoyed your schooling because your family was privileged enough to afford you an education but you weren't wealthy either
-You favorite pastime was reading/learning about the other realms however your priority was mapping out Earthrealm first since you lived there
-You attempted to educate young children in your village by reading to them in your spare time and teaching them about the beauty and dangers that co-exist within the multiple realms
-A danger that you only had heard whispers of became a reality late summer when these assassins sporting Blue and Black garments stormed your village in search of those who supported the Shirai Ryu
-Houses were cased in ice, schools and hospitals demolished
-It was a picture right out of a book about the Netherrealm. Grey/green clouds, sharp winds and endless screams of innocents being slaughtered
-In the midst of chaos, you'd been hit by a dagger as cold as a winter storm and fell to the ground
-With the little strength you had, you crawled your way to cover
-The heat of your skin had bullet sized sweat drops running down your body, the amount of blood you felt leave you put your mortality in a sharp perspective and you assumed you wouldn't make it
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-The next 3 years were something of a miracle
-You were saved by soldiers from the Shirai Ryu scouring the land for survivors and hours after the attack, your lifeforce was hanging by a thread but you were still alive
-You spent your time learning their discipline, their training and forming the strength to become a fight
-Fighter in loose terms of course, you weren't good
- you refused to take part in the same carnage and devastation you were put through, you held your own fire back
-But you remained optimistic much to the chagrin of the more serious members when your academic skills aided them to victory
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-Another unforeseen occurrence has recently distracted you
-The handsome, grey-eyed and soft silver, short-haired warrior Smoke was your instructor
-The way he and his brother lead their clan in unison reminded you of the family and friends you'd loved and lost over the years
-You were told by Kuai Liang that Smoke had saved you from death and carried you to safety
-Over the few years, you felt some sense of debt to him and he clearly did not see it that way himself, your persistence to prove something to him added to his ego
-His dedication to train you started from a sense of duty but overtime he couldn't help but think if he saved you for himself rather than the Lin Kuei
-You were an attractive woman and he attempted not to stray from his purpose of serving his master (Kuai Liang)
-Yet you looked up to him in a way that made him feel special; he was second and his days under Bi-han he was third if anything at all
-But you went to him first, you called his name first when you had an issue
-Tomas couldn't help but feel like he was more of a man because of you, a pretty girl, coming to him for help
-Using the moral guide of the Lin kuei and the Shirai Ryu, he knew being humble was the key, however....
-The way you looked at him when he was giving instructions, the shy smile you gave him in the morning or in passing
-Especially, the way you'd let him adjust your form during training
-Deep down he knew he wasn't entitled to you but the prestige of being the second in command in the Shirai Ryu had been manifesting in his head
-Tomas knew he wanted his legacy to continue but the years of Bi-han's abuse had convinced him he wasn't good enough
-He felt ashamed when his thoughts of pinning you down and having his way with you occurred during training
-His fantasy was you admitting that you werent good enough to fight but that you could be useful in otherways
-He'd pin you down on the nearest surface, well first you'd suck him off THEN he'd force you down and probably spank you and when he was hard from hearing your cries, he'd force himself inside you
-His deepest desire is you submitting as a thank you for saving your life several years ago
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-But all the changed when the Lin Kuei attacked......
-Kuai Liang and his wife Harumi commanded their assassins into position, somehow that Lin Kuei had infiltrated their land
-Tomas immediately found you and demanded you hide inside the compound but you insisted you fight with your group
-The defiant attitude had Tomas growling, this was the first time he'd be forceful with you beyond training
-"I'm not asking. I'm telling you to HIDE or there will be punishment." Tomas said, no room for argument
-Once Tomas was out of sight, you ran to an opposite area of the compound, determined to prove you can fight for Tomas just as he has fought for you
-You'd met with the most intense scene you'd ever witness. Kuai Liang and a large man in a Lin Kuei uniform facing off using their powers
-After blow to blow, the man using sharp, ice daggers subdued Scorpion and chuckled at his brothers downfall
-You gasped, never witnessing Scorpion lose to an opponent causing the large man with the gravely deep voice to glance at you
-His eye brows furrowed and he go into a fighting stance and you knew you'd be no match for this warrior
-You attempted a fighting stance yourself, but you slipped causing the Lin Kuei-man to laugh at you
-He was about to strike when smoke appeared out of nowhere and Tomas angrily appeared
-Tomas and the man he called Bi-han shouted at each other until fists were exchanged
-In a spur of the moment decision, you ran in-between Tomas and Bi-han and a force unknown to you knocked you to the ground and everything went dark
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-A throbbing headache hit you as you came through, your blurry eyes trying to focus on the comfortable surroundings
-You were on a bed and a heavy chain was on your ankle
-While yanking on the chain with all the strength you could muster, the door swung open to a man who took up all of the door frame
-It was bi-han wearing a mask, his outfit still stained with the blood of the fallen members if Shirai Ryu
-Immediately you remember Tomas, your heart races as you look at all the dried blood
-"Those fools are still alive, they are lucky we held back. Somewhat." Bi-han says, crossing his arms
-You ask why are you here, tugging on the chain as Bi-han steps forward
-"What are you to them?" He asks.
-You explained that Tomas and Kaui Liang saved you from dying and allowed you to train within the Shirai Ryu
-Bi-han raised a skeptic brow, eyeing your muscles (or lack thereof) indicating his disbelief
-"Whose Concubine are you?" Kuai Liangs?" He suggested, slowly removing his mask and tossing it aside
-You stopped pulling while the heat when to your face. How dare he think that's your purpose with them AND that one of the most honorable men you've met would behave in such a manner. Kuai Liang would never betray Harumi in that way and the slander of him made your blood boil
-Without a response, Bi-han went on "So you belong to Tomas then?" He didn't smile, waiting for an answer
-You reaffirmed that you trained with them, scared but not backing down
-Bi-han stepped closer you, confirming that he commanded dominance at all times
-"You may not think you belong to him but does he know that?" Bi-han crouched down to your eye-level, his icy breath hitting your face
-For the first time, you make direct eye contact which seemingly surprises him for second before his eyes darken again
-"You want to be his? He is weak and why my brother tolerates his incompetence in their new era shocks me." Bi-han says, clutching his fists.
-"Unlike you, Tomas is a good man who fights to protect the innocent not glory." In a surge of confidence, you try to push away Bi-han but he catches your wrists.
-"Is that so? Well then maybe I should show you how much of a bad man I am."
-Bi-Han quickly removes his garments and moves to get rid of yours. You thrash around, limited by the chains so Bi-han easily covers your entire body with his much larger one.
-He caresses your skin in a gentle contradiction to being pinned down with force. You attempt to push him off of you to no success. He smiles, knowing your resistance is useless.
-"Did Tomas ever touch you like this?" Bi-Han asked while thumbing your nipples and fondling your breast.
-You mewl at the brand new sensation of being felt so intimately and for a second Bi-Hans eye went soft at the sight beneath him
-The gentleness didn't last when Bi-Han realized that you and Tomas had never been intimate; you had never been intimate and that made Bi-Han delighted. This would be one of his many flawless victories over the Shirai Ryu.
-"I'll have to open you up a little." Bi-han reached a long, thick finger down to your intimate area and began playing your lips. His finger ran down your slit slowly; he wanted you to feel and remember him. You'd end this day as claimed territory of the Lin Kuei. It didn't matter what you wanted.
-Your brain had stopped. Your reasonability drowned out by the fast pace of your beating heart.
-His attention back on your face and without warning, shoved one finger inside you. He began jerking it in and out; he made sure to hit every spot he could. He grew harder thinking about the idea that you'd be able to feel him hours after this night.
-With every thrust, your hand that was wrapped around Bi-Hans arm squeezed his bicep. Something about you responding to his assault by holding on to him harder caused him to spur.
-You felt yourself getting closer to what you knew to be the climax of your enjoyment; a coil of warmth began and you clutched on Bi-Han for dear life.
-Bi-Han quickened the pace seeing your reaction. You squirmed and let out a loud moan at your release.
-You slowly sat up as Bi-Han closed in on you. Catching your breath, you asked him to please not do anything more with tears pricking in your eyes.
-He had no intention of stopping; he was belated to have you bending to you will, underneath him. Now it was your turn to give him his prize.
-He pulled up right to his erect penis and looked down on you expectantly.
-You shook your head, turning away until he grabbed the back of your head and forced your open mouth down on him.
-"Do as your new grandmaster commands." He said in a low voice.
-You swirled your tongue around, unsure of how to do what he wanted you to do. You dragged your tongue up and down his shaft, targeting the vein. You blushed because you had the thoughts about Tomas in the past but knew they weren't appropriate.
-Bi-Han started bobbing your head up and down on his cock, using both his hands.
-This is the only time he'd allow himself to be sloppy. His moans and sighs filling the room.
-Abruptly, he shoved you down and once again his large body was completely covering yours.
-"No more resistance? Good girl." He adjusted himself to be at your entrance before grabbing your face and smashing his lips on yours.
-There was no adjustment period. He shoved himself inside you and began to thrust. He held you down with super strength while peppering kisses on your neck and chest.
-Bi-Han sped up his movement and kissed you again. "Kiss me back" he growled.
-You obliged; just wanting the nightmare to be over.
-His tongue danced for dominance in your mouth and of course he won. He smiled into the kiss.
-He began growling as his thrust became sloppy. He gripped your hips with intense force and released his seed deep within you; not moving until every single drop was inside you.
-"You are officially property of the Lin Kuei. You will be under my particular command and I suggest you keep your mouth shut and do what I say. I can give you alot.....if you earn it."
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